#thought I’d throw them on here anyway

[cuttyflammm]

yes yes, more self indulgent garbage

[transzsonix]

[writingfreezer]

you had been curious about his horns and tail, and dan heng was kind enough to let you touch them. what he didn’t anticipate was how intense the whole situation was about to become.

as your fingers delicately gracing his tail had slowly moved up to his base, his self-control had faltered with it. even though his tail was made out of mostly water, you somehow had found a way to squeeze around it to make dan heng shiver from the contact. you could see how he was biting his lower lip in order to keep the slutty moans that wanted to spill from his mouth to himself.

”does this feel good, babe?” you asked, voice sultry. your inner cheek was almost bleeding with how much you had bitten it in order to keep yourself from smirking at the sight in front of you. dan heng, the usually composed and quick-witted member of the astral express, had been reduced down to a pleading mess.

dan heng opened his mouth to speak but right before he was about to respond, your fingers curled and started scratching the base of his tail. the action made his back arch and he let out a high gasp that soon turned into a drawn-out moan. his eyes lulled to the back of his head and he flooped his head down on your shoulder.

panting, he tried to speak in his usual tone, ”plea- hah…. please, just, um… c-continue, please….” was all he could muster. the absolute desperation in his voice made a shiver run up your spine, and now both of you were biting your lips.

”oh? you like getting touched like this?” the answer was obvious enough that dan heng just settled for letting out a series of quiet moans. his forehead was still planted to your shoulder as he panted, and you snaked your free arm up to pull him close. he quickly pulled you into an embrace, snaking his tail around your waist, earning a soft chuckle out of you. his grip was tight, but not hurting. just perfect.

slowly, your hand left his back in favor of finding purchase at the hem of his pants. you tugged gently at it, giving him a warning, before diving your fingers under the fabric.

dan heng gasped and whimpered at what was to come. his hand moved down to hold your wrist as your fingers moved down, and more down, until you found the hem of his underwear. your scratching increased in pressure as your fingers dived under the next layer of fabric to meet his warm skin.

”please, be ge-” dan heng was cut off by a deep moan as your hand grabbed his cock and started pumping it without warning. this, combined with the scratching, made dan heng louder than he ever has been. it was a surprise no one on the express came barging in.

”i am gentle, now hush. let me take care of you…” you cooed softly into his ear as your pace on his hard appendage quickened. dan heng’s moans increased in pitch and his back arched into your chest, his grip on you tightening as much as he could. you could even feel his tail squeezing your waist, but that was irrelevant now.

as the vidyadhara in front of you continued to moan and plead, you couldn’t help but smirk. seeing dan heng so submissive kindled something inside of you, something that had never been kindled before in the span of your relationship. perhaps you should do this more often.

[usernameyettocome]

Hey fellas. Piece of advice, never get lost in trying to make a fourteen sided die with nothing but scissors, a protractor, tape, paper and a determination to make someone a fourteen sided die for their birthday. Just don’t.

[augustinewrites]

when your boyfriend is the duke of the fortress of meropide, there's nothing harder than finding time to run errands together on his rare days off.

“wriothesley!” you scold as he crowds you up against the wall with a smirk. you keep your gaze locked onto his face, doing your best to ignore the fact that he was clad in nothing but his boxers. 

your attempt at being strict is quickly waylaid when he leans in to press an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. “can you focus, please?” 

“can’t help it when you’re so close to me…not to mention we’re finally all alone–”

“how is it going in there?” chirori calls from the other side of the curtain. 

you tense and your boyfriend groans, head hitting the wall of the stall with a dull thud.

“it’s going good!” you call back, unlatching his hands from your hips and walking him back as far as the stall will allow. “now try the pants on,” you order. 

“why do i have to get all dressed up for some party?” he grumbles, complying anyway and stuffing the tree trunks he calls legs into the expensive material and buttoning them up.

“it’s not just some party. it’s being hosted by the chief justice.” 

“ah, right. neuvi is throwing a rager to celebrate his hostile takeover.”

you help him into the dress shirt next, admiring the way his muscles strain against the fabric as he turns to the mirror to button it up. “he’s hosting a ball to announce his becoming the interim leader of fontaine. smooth over the transition of power and all.”

“and you’re dressing me up to show me off?” 

“of course,” you grin, staring at the two ties you’d picked out and wondering which would match your dress the best. “can’t have you go in there looking anything less than a million mora.” 

he turns around to face you, shirt still undone. “mind helping me out here then?” 

“i knew it,” you mutter, trying and failing to close the buttons of his shirt yourself. 

“knew that my impressive physique would be hard to contain?” he asked cheerily, proudly puffing his chest like a bubbler seahorse. 

you toss a different shirt at him with a roll of your eyes. “just try the bigger one on, please, if you go in like that they might mistake you for late night entertainment...”

he slips the shirt off, shooting you a wink and popping his pecs. “only for you.”

once he’s dressed, you pull him out of the change room to stand in front of three-way mirror. you step back to admire him, greatly appreciating the way his slacks hug his rear…

“shoulders look good…” chiori notes. “how do we feel about the lapels?”

“i like them,” you hum. “could we get him some gloves as well?” the stylist nods, heading off. you take the chance to step up to where your boyfriend has already slipped off his jacket and is rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. 

“wow,” clorinde - who’d been shopping around with navia -  says, impressed. “never thought i’d see you with a fully buttoned shirt.”

“hey, sometimes i can dress like a duke.” 

“when properly motivated, yes he can,” you agree with a proud smile.

“so gloves, huh?” he smirks, running his hands over the curves of your hips. “sounds like you’re planning on us sneaking away to have some real fun…”

“oh no,” you warn. “we’re going to be on our best behaviour tonight. important people from all over teyvat are going to be there.”

“best behaviour? you know i'm a convicted criminal, right?” 

you roll your eyes as he laughs, pulling you into his chest to wrap you in a loose hug as chiori returns with gloves and a garment bag.

“here you go. and for you, your dress for tonight.”

wriothesley pulls the gloves on, peeking over your shoulder as your friend unzips the bag. 

he’s already imagining it on you. the way the fabric would sit against your body, the way it would sway as you moved…

“yeah, screw best behaviour,” he scoffs, flexing his fingers in his gloves. “if anyone even looks at you too long, i'm breaking their kneecaps.”

“doctor, call off your guard dog,” clorinde says, clearly amused.

you only sigh, pressing a kiss to wriothesley’s lips in an attempt to smooth the scowl they’re set in. “his leash is only so long.”

[lillotte17]

*throws more Veilguard Banter into the gaping maw of Tumblr and then flees*

~~

Solas: “I have another question, Varric. If I may?”

Varric: “Just the one?”

S: “For now. I must admit, I was surprised to see that you were the one they asked to make an attempt at dissuading me from completing my mission. Not to belittle our prior bonds of friendship, but if the intent was to send an agent who might presumably hold some power of persuasion over me, I…would have thought another candidate might have seemed like the more obvious choice.”

V: “Would it really have changed anything if she had been the one telling you to stop?”

 S: “I…do not know. I should think not.”

V: “But at least you would have gotten to see her again, right?”

S: “Perhaps.”

V: “Heh, don’t you worry, Chuckles, I’m sure you’ll get your chance. The fact that I was here instead of her is more of a fluke than anything else. She was more than eager to follow up on the tip that led us to you, but then the kid insisted on tagging along, and you know how it is.”

S: “…kid?”

V: “Right, the kid. You probably haven’t seen him either.”

S: “…No. I have not. Although, I would have thought that there would have been news if the Herald of Andraste had… Well. I suppose there is wisdom in striving to keep such affairs private. I certainly have no right to voice an objection.”

V: “Why would you object to seeing the kid again?”

S: “Again? I… You are referring to Cole.”

V: *snorts* “Well, yeah. Who’d you think I was talking about?”

S: “Never mind.”

~

Rook: “So, Varric, do you really think the Inquisitor is going to show up?”

Varric: “Oh, don’t worry, she’ll be here. She’s been searching high and low for Chuckles for nearly a decade.”

R: *whistles* “And she never caught up to him in all that time?”

V: “Once. It…didn’t end well. After that, a few of our agents came close over the years, but it turns out that the world is a pretty big place, and tracking a lone elf with a network of magical transportation mirrors on his side is about as tricky as you’d expect. It’s even harder when you’ve got a notorious reputation and half of Thedas has seen portraits of your face. One whisper of the Herald of Andraste entering a city, and all our leads would vanish overnight.”

R: “But…I thought the two of them liked each other?”

V: “I think that made it worse, actually.”

Solas: “You do realize that I am standing right here?”

~

Solas: “For what it is worth, I am sorry about your Bianca, Varric.”

Varric: “Oh, you know, what’s an irreplaceable keepsake from the woman I can never be with in the grand scheme of things, anyway? At least you didn’t turn me to stone.”

S: “Your anger is justified. I do not expect your forgiveness, but I would apologize for my actions, none the less.”

V: “Look, if I were you, my forgiveness isn’t what I’d be worried about right now. Someone else has a much bigger bone to pick with you than I do.”

S: “I am not expecting her forgiveness, either.”

V: “So, you’re not even going to try?”

S: “And what, precisely, should I be trying, Master Tethras? This is hardly the sort of situation to be solved by a bouquet of flowers and a well-constructed poem.”

Rook: “Maybe you could send chocolates?”

V: “I was going to suggest groveling, actually.”

[solbaby7]

Still Your Best

pairing: azriel x reader

inspo: Still Your Best - Giveon

warnings: jealous azriel, some teasing, sexual tension, misogyny, this some toxic relationship shit so don’t expect the right decisions to be made here

summary: You’re trying to move on after years of pining over a certain Shadowsinger but he’s not ready to let go

—

Damien was—nice.

A little predictable but he tried to be a gentlemen; held open your doors and pulled out your chairs at every dinner. He remembered the little things, was a decent cook, clean enough and worked hard.

But, you didn’t feel the spark.

Even after weeks of planned lunches and candlelit dinners accompanied with fine wines and good conversation but you couldn’t see yourself falling in love—at least not yet; not without effort. It’s partially why you’d never brought him around the Inner Circle; slightly worried about making your private life public in fears that it was moving things along too soon.

Was it normal to invite someone you didn’t love to meet your family?

There’s not enough time to really figure it out, to work out the kinds and tie lose ends before Damien is asking to meet them. “You’ve met mine.”

It was true; his family was—nice. A kind enough mother and a father who wasn’t exactly present but he was a good provider and Damien insisted that even without his dad around much, he still had a good life. You don’t think much of it until you start noticing little things; condescending responses when you tell him you’re leaving to go train with Cassian. “Enjoy it—a wife of mine will be too busy with our children to be running about playing with swords.”

You bite your tongue, deeming it too soon in the relationship to give him a piece of your mind and falling into a placating role is anything but love inducing. “You’re entitled to your opinion. It’s awfully early to be talking about that sort of thing anyway.”

Damien shrugs it off, already bored with the conversation and moving onto another. “Either way, I’d still like to meet them—your family,” Your eye twitches at the way he says it; like just because it wasn’t by blood that it wasn’t something real. “Get to know the people who’ve been stealing you away from me all week.”

You comply with a strained smile, dread beginning to settle in when you bring it up to Rhysand a few days later. You downplay it, reiterating multiple times that it wasn’t obligatory in hopes that he and the other would be busy for now and the foreseeable future.

Of course, that’s not the case.

“Don’t be silly, we’d love to meet your new boyfriend.”

He doesn’t miss the way you cringe at the title. “Oh, that’s just—that’s just wonderful. Great.”

Your mood is no less sour three days later when you’re getting ready for said gathering, form stuffed in a little black dress you’d been saving for a special occasion and you figured now was a better time than ever. Plus, the confidence boost would help sooth the nerves that wouldn’t stop swarming beneath your skin.

“That’s a little short, Angel.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the pet name—soft and sweet and completely non-threatening. As if you hadn’t spent the entirety of your life beating your knuckles into the bones of men five times your size in a ring meant for close combat.

Still, your hands slide over the fabric, staring at your figure in the mirror when you murmur, “Not too bad though right? I thought it was really pretty.”

“Very pretty, just not for other eyes.” Damien gives you a small smile, warm palms cupping at your arms when he continues as if he’s doing you a favor. “I’ll let it slide though, just this once.”

“How generous.”

It takes everything in you not to scream when he makes a point to throw a long cardigan over his arm before you leave; trying to distract you by asking for a full run down of everyone and you’re quick to skip over the fact that maybe, once upon a time, you and Azriel were more than just friends. But the steaming, boiling anger subsides when you winnow him to the Night Court, his cheeks green as he struggled to keep his breakfast down.

Damien hated winnowing and for some reason that made you love it.

Even as you soothing rub his back, acutely aware of the eyes staring into your back from the entrance doors. Damien composes himself fairly quickly, sparing you a look when you’d promised he’d get used to it after a while. “It happens,” The High Lord of the Night Court greets, a friendly hand patting at Damien’s shoulder and you don’t miss the way Azriel’s eyes roll at the gesture. “Welcome, I’m Rhysand and this is my wife Feyre.”

Damien’s eyes go wide, making a move to bow to his knees but you stop him with a gentle smile. “I apologize, I’ve never really met a High Lord before.”

“He’s just Rhys right now,” You soothe, tugging him along to introduce him to the others and they can tell it’s a little overwhelming so you’re both quickly ushered to the sitting room. “The same Rhys who always splurges on the good shit—“ You cringe at the way Damien clears his throat, a brow raised at the profanity and you have to hide the burn of embarrassment for being checked in front of your friends. “Stuff. He always gets the good stuff.”

Nesta and Mor share a glance, watching you pour up a glass just for it to be swiftly snagged by your date who offers you one too but it’s significantly smaller. “Should take it slow, Angel. It’s not ladylike to get drunk when you’re being hosted.”

Your friends watch you nod with a tight smile, quietly thanking him for looking out before taking a slow sip.

Azriel scoffs in the corner, eyes rolling as he fills a glass of his own and your jaw clenched in response, an arm looping through Damien’s to show him around. You point at art you’ve seen a million times and nod every now and then when he runs off into a winded explanation of a vase he was sure was a prized possession but you were certain Rhys had gotten it from Mor as a gift three Winter Solstice’s ago.

Cassian wanders over, striking up casual conversation that you use as a chance to slip away, re-filling your glass much higher than respectable and took it back in one go with a glance over your shoulder. “Where’d you find this guy?”

“Do you actually care or are you being a prick?”

Rhysand lets out a laugh, hands tucked in his pockets as violet eyes scan the room. “Are you even allowed to say that word?”

You scoff, a hand swatting at his arm but you can’t smack away the embarrassment that appears. “This is exactly why I didn’t want you guys to meet him.” You lower your voice, fingers toying with the stitching on your dress. “We’ve only been seeing each other a few months. I didnt have enough time to—“

“To dump him before we found out about him?”

A pause, your lips purse and your fingers twitch for something stronger than whatever had been filling the decanter. “Fuck off, Rhys. Not everyone gets to have a fairytale ending like you do.”

His voice is softer, more careful and it takes effort to even hear what he’s saying. “Why don’t you just talk to him? I know you’ve seen him brooding in the corners.”

“Azriel made himself perfectly clear,” You hiss, no longer caring who saw when you reached out to grab a whole bottle of wine and all out ripped the cork free. “He can brood in the corners for the rest of our lives for all I care.”

Your form radiates agitation, positivity seething over a nearly overflowing glass before taking hefty gulps to quench the rage but it only seems to fuel it. Taking you back to that night, the cool breeze sifting through a dragging duvet while standing on the balcony with Az. You could still feel the afterglow, body radiating perfect health and contentment when he finally faces you, a grimace on strong features. “I think I have feelings for Elain.”

It hadn’t even amounted to much, grazing fingers and hushed conversations; strolls in the garden and hours hunched over a table putting together puzzles.

But Elain didn’t want more, barely grasping at the strings of her life as she knew it and more anger burns when you’re robbed of the ability to enjoy it. Enjoy him being hurt a fraction of the amount you’d been but the feeling never comes, just breathtakingly aching love—the need to hold and cradle him close and make promises you weren’t positive you’d be able to keep. “I’m sorry,” Rhys rests a hand on your shoulder but you’re quick to shift away from it.

“Forget it, can we just hurry this night along?”

He nods stiffly, lips pursed at your agitation but it doesn’t stop him from swiftly blocking you from sight when Damien begins walking over, offering enough time for you to finish your glass and ditch the bottle. “Anyone hungry?”

Nesta grins beside her mate, a knowing look in her eye when she sits down, tugging Cassian along with her and it takes a moment too long to realize that she’d directed every seat be filled—except the one before you. Teeth grind against each other when the shadowsinger sits down, chair creaking against the hardwood as he scoots in until you felt the tips of his shoes against your own. “Absolutely ravenous.”

Azriel doesn’t play nice, smirking to himself over his mashed potatoes when those familiar shadows creep under the table, licking up your ankles and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You tense, grip slipping on your fork and Damien raises a questioning brow. “You okay?”

You refrain from looking at the dark haired man across from you and force a smile. “Perfect,” You lean in for a kiss, lips millimeters away when Damien’s head turns to the side, choking on nothing but air. It passes rather quickly but your hands curl into fists under the table, swatting away the shadows curling around your knees, teasing at your thighs.

“Damien, do tell us how you two met?”

Mor doesn’t acknowledge your grateful stare but you’re certain she’d noticed it, biding you just enough time to swiftly throw Azriel a look that could kill—but it only seems to spur him on further. “I ran into her in the city, asked her out to apologize.”

“Clumsy, are you?”

Az doesn’t even acknowledge your heels stomping at his foot, smirk growing over the rim of his wine glass and you straighten in your seat. “I try not to be but when in the presence of such beauty,” Damien grazes his knuckles against the curve of your cheek, watching as you pile food on your plate. “She didn’t have such an appetite back then though—slow down it’s not going anywhere.”

A brow raises, hands freezing in their place, serving spoon hovering in midair as his words settle but you’re quick to recover. Offering a smile, you put the spoon back, returning the dish to its place.

A beat of time passes in complete silence.

“Excuse me?”

“Az, don’t.” Maybe it’s the nickname that slips—one Azriel hadn’t heard you use in months—that forces him to clamp his mouth shut but the way golden eyes go dark is unmistakable. The others are staring; more so at your date than you but ever so gracefully you take control of the situation, resting a hand lovingly on Damien’s shoulder, sparing a quick kiss there over the cotton of his shirt. “It’s fine, he’s right, I had a big lunch.”

Rhys takes over, directing small talk and grilling Damien with subtle questions. Where he was from. His parents and their lineage and you wince slightly at the way he describes the relationship between his parents. “I suppose my family is like any other. My father always raised me to be a strong male who provides and instills order within his home and my mother handles the other duties—certainly none of this fighting mess my angel seems intent on participating in.”

Nesta perks up in her seat, fork scraping against her plate. “She’s actually really good—taught me when I first got here.”

“Be that as it may,” Damien doesn’t even seem to notice the displeased looks directed at him, the shared glances and mental conversations about just how fucking awful they thought he was. But, none of them say a thing, intrigued by your lack of irritation. In fact, you looked quite pleased with yourself, sparing the spymaster quick glances after each degrading comment—like you were getting off on his growing anger. “It’s just not how I was raised. Playing with swords isn’t where she belongs.”

“And where exactly do you feel she belongs?” It’s a loaded question and judging by the low growl that laces Azriel’s words you know Damien’s answer will dictate how the rest of the night goes. If he’d be able to leave the house in one piece.

Damien shrugs as if the response is as easy as breathing, not aware in the slightest of the cobalt glow beginning to push through the thickness of Azriel’s leathers. “In the—“

“Dessert?” You sharply interject, standing abruptly and smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. “Come help me carry it out.” You don’t even look back, ears catching on the linen cloth smacking against the table before the gentle scratch of the chair. You don’t make a sound until you’re behind the kitchens double doors, fingers raking through your hair when you spin around.

Damien is not behind you.

Azriel is, and he’s entirely too close, stalking forward with a growing snarl on god-like features. All sharp cheekbones and a dark brow, even darker hair that falls over his forehead and tickles at the nape of his neck but your eyes are caught on the shape of his mouth. The ripple of his nose and the tightly strung cord of his jaw as he cages you to the counter. “Dump him.”

The smell of his cologne nearly knocks you clean off your feet and your body’s reaction to the proximity was steadily becoming the ultimate betrayal. “What?” He watches you shake yourself from the momentary stupor, a hand smacking at his chest but Azriel doesn’t so much as flinch. “Are you crazy?”

“I will go fucking batshit if you keep throwing yourself all over that sorry excuse of a male.”

It’s the promise coating each syllable that has your thighs clenching but it’s the large hand that ghosts over your silhouette that has arousal pooling in your underwear. Azriel tracks the slow swallow you take, the roll of your throat and it’s like you’re catapulted back in time. Back when it would’ve been your right to lean forward and press your mouth to his, to let those hands roam wherever they pleased as long as he was planning on reciprocating the pleasure. Your fingers clench at your sides at the very thought and there’s no hiding your scent in the air. “You don’t get to do this. You wanted her—you chose her.” Your heart slams against your chest so hard you feared an imprint would begin to form. There’s nowhere to run; nowhere to go that wasn’t completely engulfed in everything Azriel and you have to close your eyes as to not get lost in the familiar touch of his shadows on your skin. “We are over.”

“No, we aren’t.” He noses at your cheek, free hand curling at the side of your neck to make room and you swear at yourself for allowing it. For falling victim to his fucked up game and the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch; plush lips pressing the softest of kisses along your racing pulse and he fucking groans. “It isn’t over—we’ll never be over.” So low and deep, hand tightening ever so slightly at your neck in such a claiming gesture that you have to rip yourself from the delusions beginning to set root. “You will always be mine.”

“You’re insane if you really think that’s true.” Hopefully it sounds more sure than it felt coming out and it takes every ounce of strength you have to pull away, to push through the thick cloud of darkness surrounding you until the glow of the lights were visible again. Fluffy cakes and neatly iced cookies rest on elegant trays and you can’t seem to stop yourself from grabbing one and retreating as far away as possible. “Absolutely insane.” A choked yelp escapes when you bump into the wall, mouth stuffed full of sweet dough and light icing to occupy from the grating thought of dropping to your knees and letting him shove his cock as far back as your throat could allow.

“I can be,” He nods, a smile pulling on his handsome features and your gut clenches. “I’ll be nice and ask you one time to break up with him.”

“And if I don’t?”

Shadows slink up the back of your legs, over your ass—higher and higher until they wrap ever so delicately around your neck. “Then, I’ll kill him.”

[fastandcarlos]

Baby On The Cards : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: with so many children all around him, george can't help but wonder when one of his own might arrive. but are you on the same page as george is?

Your smile was wide as you waved goodbye to the young fan who had joined you in the Mercedes garage, watching as George led her away to where her parents waited before returning back to your side. “She was adorable,” George chuckled as he took a seat beside you. 

“I think you might have a new biggest fan.” 

“No way,” George shrugged, throwing his arm across your shoulders, keeping his eye on her as her family walked away. “There’s something about young kids when they shout out at me, I just can’t help but pay attention to them.” 

“That’s because you’re such a lovely driver,” you smiled, resting your head against George’s shoulder. “There’s a reason why so many kids love cheering you on.” 

George nodded as the two of you fell silent. His mind began clouded, staring down at the floor as he heard the yells of several other children across the paddock as they bumped into their favourite drivers. It was part of the job that George loved, he couldn’t get enough of interacting with young fans and making their dreams come true. 

“I’d love to know what skills you’ve got that make you so charming with kids,” you remarked. 

“I guess I just love spending time with them, that’s all.” 

“I can tell,” you noted, unable to deny how much George loved being around them. “I know you hate always having to say goodbye to them though, don’t you?” 

George nodded once again as he remained quiet, slightly lost in his own little world. Your eyes studied him closely, noticing just how lost in his thoughts he seemed to be, knowing exactly what was going on through George’s mind as you watched him too. 

There had been little secret made from George that he saw his future filled with children, and as he found himself getting older, and seeing some of his friends begin to settle down too, George couldn’t help but wonder when his own dreams would start to come true. 

After a few moments, your hand rested on George’s thigh to get his attention. “Do you want to tell me what’s suddenly got you looking as if you’re about to spiral into some deep thoughts?” 

George’s eyes flickered to look at you, “it’s no big deal, just having a bit of a daydream.” 

“George,” you softly spoke, sending a glare across at him. “I know you better than you know yourself, tell me what’s on your mind?” 

You could see him wondering, weighing up whether he wanted to open up to you or not. Out of the two of you, George was absolutely the one that voiced his desire to have children a lot more than you did, almost leaving him wondering sometimes whether you wanted it at all. 

“If you don’t talk to someone, you’re just going to be thinking about it in the car later,” you added, knowing the effects his thoughts had had on his performances before. 

“Let’s move on,” George suggested, trying to stand, only for you to pull him back again. “It’s not something that we need to talk about right now anyway.” 

Your head shook as George continued to speak, “you’re worrying me George, why does this feel like it’s something pretty important that’s bothering you?” 

“Because in the long run, it is,” he admitted, “and I don’t want to sit here and hear things I don’t want to hear.” 

You reached across and took a hold of George’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, silently asking him to open up to you. 

“I spend all this time with young children, but they’re not mine,” George finally confessed, “and I know it’s not an easy thing, but I guess I just can’t help but wonder what these days would be like if the children around me were mine.” 

Your smile turned up as George spoke, leaving him confused beside you. “You know, I think about those moments too and how cool they’ll be one day.” 

“You’ve thought about it?” George asked in surprise, his eyes going wide. “You’ve never really spoken about children, I thought they were something that you weren’t too interested in having.” 

Although you didn’t make it quite as well-known as George, a family with him was high on your list of priorities. When you watched him with all of the fans around the paddock, you couldn’t deny how heartwarming it was and how much you loved seeing the way he made so many of his young fans smile so wide.  

Your response sent a wave of relief over George, your response was completely unexpected for him, but unexpected in the best possible way. To hear you were on the same page as him was all that he had ever wanted. 

“I think about it a lot,” you smiled, “I think it’s only natural to think about these things with where we are now.” 

“But you’ve never told me.” 

Your smile was soft as George shifted so that he was sat facing you. “It feels like it’s an expectation to have a family now, but I want to do all of this in our own time, not when people constantly pester and want to know when we’re settling down.” 

“I get it, the questions are constant sometimes,” George agreed, “I’ve never made you feel like there’s a pressure for us to have children, have I?” 

“No, no way. I know it’s a huge dream for you George.” 

“I guess part of me has always worried about how we’d ever make it work,” you confessed, glancing down to the floor. “You’re hardly ever home and I would never be able to do it by myself.” 

It was George’s turn to take a hold of your hand as he noticed the panic in your voice. “We’d make it work, whatever sacrifices I’d need to make when it comes down to it, I’d absolutely do it.” 

“You make it sound so easy,” you chuckled, “as if you could just walk away from a race and say you’re not doing it that weekend.” 

“Why not? The race would never be my priority.” 

“Racing is your life George,” you reminded him. 

His head shook as you spoke, “racing is my job, but my family is my life. You, everyone back at home, and any future additions that we might welcome into our family. You know that nothing else would ever come before all of that.” 

George had worked hard to make sure that you were the most important thing in his life, to make sure that you were looked after and make sure that you had all of the things that you needed to live as comfortably as possible. 

“I’m not saying that we should have a baby tomorrow George, there’s a lot we need to think about, but I definitely think there might be one, or maybe more, in our future,” you told him, watching his eyes light up. 

“That’s all that I’ve ever wanted to hear,” he responded, offering you a wide smile. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about how our future plans out, the only people that matter are the two of us.” 

You hummed in agreement with him, “throughout all of this, however long it takes us to one day settle down, we’re a team, always.” 

George leant forwards and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “whatever we do, we agree to do it together.” 

“Exactly, and hopefully one day we’ll be able to be mum and dad.” 

“And have baby Russell?” 

“Yes George,” you laughed, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. The excitement in his voice unlike anything that you had ever heard from George before.  

“I’m so happy we had this conversation,” he added, “you have no idea how much you’ve just eased my mind.” 

“See,” you sniggered, “all you had to do was talk to me.” 

“You’re right, as painful as it is to admit it.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[fanfics-with-coffee]

Wants

More ramblings of an insomniac, still not proofread but i wanna throw this out here. We're back on our smut roll as well!

No one really cared what Astarion wanted or didn't want to do. He'd stopped resisting at some point, just letting whomever had higher status overrule him even when it came to his own body. But you, you didn't do that. You never asked him to do something he didn't want. So he asked himself; what did he want? You. He wanted you. Could he have you?

Genre: Smut Pairing: Astarion x (fem)reader Kinks: PiV, little bit of orgasm control, biting, marking, dirty talk Words: 7400+ Need something to listen to? This is what I listened to while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4XkxtmnNB3RI55o414xpdx?si=ef01f7ab913f4a26

Astarion wouldn’t say that you liked him per se, it’s doubtful you even enjoyed his company unlike how you enjoyed the company of say Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet you couldn’t possibly dislike him either, after all; who let’s a vampire drink from them if you didn’t at least tolerate him. 

“Is he yours? He’s quite handsome, that can’t be a coincidence, you know how to pick them.” Her eyes scanned him, a smile tugging at her lips as he seemed to evaluate his very existence.

“...You mean Astarion? I didn’t pick him, he’s here ‘cus he wants to be. Besides, if I knew him beforehand it’s doubtful I’d pick him anyways.” You replied, arms crossed over your chest.

“Hah! You’re funny, well he’s clearly under your command anyways. Won’t you let me borrow him? I’ve always wanted to be bitten by a vampire you see…” She drew closer, her eyes still looking him up and down. Nausea grew in his belly, his throat closing up.

Astarion wouldn’t say he liked you either per se, you didn’t make yourself the most personable exactly. You were blunt, which he enjoyed, as long as it wasn’t directed at him. Yet you weren’t afraid to speak your mind when he tried to play with you. Every and all attempts to get under your skin was answered with distinct indifference, not full rejection but without skipping a beat you continued whatever line of thought you had started. The most he could pull from you was the occasional laugh at his antics, mocking his clearly practiced recitals of lines he’d used dozens of times on hundreds of other people. You often replied with your own dry sense of humor. Sometimes though, he could swear that your cheeks flushed ever so slightly, but it was hard to tell since these few times were also those when you promptly turned your face away from him, suddenly a lot more interested in a bird or bush. And if he pushed, you were suddenly convinced you heard Karlach break something or Gale needing help with supper. He considered giving up, treating you with the same distance he kept to the other companions, yet you always seemed to gravitate back to his tent, to the spot next to him or simply to wherever he was. He wouldn’t say he liked you, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company.

“Well, I’m a spawn technically so you know, not a true vampire.” He managed to keep his voice light and comical, a half-hearted attempt at dissuading her, to keep her hands to herself. “Besides, I think I’d like to keep my teeth to myself this time.”

“Mh… Well no matter, you’re pretty enough to make it an overseeable difference. But I didn’t ask you, spawn.” The word was an insult. “I was talking to your commander here, or is it master? I can make it worth your while.”

The bite in your words and the general lack of give to his pushing and pulling gave him a weird sense of comfort. He could spew whatever lines he’d used before, chewed up and spit back out over and over again and you just… moved past them. You were bored by them, but not by him. He felt comfortable telling you about Cazador, about his scars, both physical and mental. You’d never gone too deep, but you had listened and you hadn’t let it color the way you treated him. There was a certain respect to the way you kept him at a distance, he couldn’t trap you under his thumb even if he tried. Yet you stayed besides him.

“Why in the nine hells are you asking me? I told you, I don’t own him, he can do whatever he wants. Mostly anyways. But he seems to be disinterested in whatever you’re offering so.” You didn’t spare him a glance, instead keeping your eyes on the drow woman. You were cautious too.

“Tsk, well if you’re unwilling to barter, I guess I’ll just have to go directly to the source.” She looked annoyed for a second before putting a face of seduction, temptation. She sensually moved her hair away from her neck, draping it over her opposing shoulder and tilting it towards him. She began to walk closer. Astarion could feel panic rise in him, instinctually taking a step back, unsure of what to do. “Come on, spawn, isn’t this what you were born to do? Feed?”

And when he was desperate, hungry and weak that night in the forest, his first instinct was to feed from you. Not because he hated you, far from it. But because he respected you and because he knew that if you found out; you might not judge. He hadn’t been careful enough when he hovered over you, accidentally waking you from your slumber. He had scrambled, fearing that this was it for him. He had slipped up and now any and all trust he had accumulated, though perhaps unfounded, would be wasted and he’d be banished if not worse. Yet you understood. He doesn’t know why, but it seemed like you did. And that night you let him feed from you, despite the pain it undoubtedly caused. And in the morning, you pretended like nothing had happened, like last night was as peaceful as all the others.

Maybe he did like you, just a little bit. You’d at least earned that much. But he had done nothing to earn that same sentiment. 

Yet…

“One step closer to him and I will be the one to spill your blood instead. He said he didn’t want you or whatever it is you’re offering.” 

You had taken a single step to place yourself between the woman and Astarion, keeping her from getting any closer to him. It was doubtful that you’d actually do anything against her in the very center of Absolutist territory. But he wasn’t certain, the way you firmly placed your feet on the ground and the way he could see your muscles tense beneath your armor from this far away told him that you just might. There’s the distinct tension of magic in the air, crackling just beneath the surface of the weave but enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand. It lasts only a brief moment before the drow relents.

“Fine, do as you wish. What use do you have for a vampire that won’t even do something as simple and natural as bite a willing victim? Even if he is a spawn.”

“What reasons I have for keeping him around is none of your damn business. Now did you have anything more interesting to say or are we done here?”

There was nothing else you needed from her and as quickly as things had escalated, it had passed. It was still a couple hours before you decided to call it a day and lead them back to the camp to plan your next move and eat dinner. Astarion hadn’t brought up what had happened with Araj the whole time, yet it kept replaying in his head. If he could dream, he would’ve assumed this was the pleasant relief of sleep. But it wasn’t, you had stood up for him. Not only that, you had kept him from doing something he would regret, because he knows that if you hadn’t stepped in or even asked him to do it… He would’ve. Weak willed as he was after all the times he had broken his own boundaries for others. 

Night in the Shadowlands was somehow darker than the days, despite the lack of sun no matter the time. And as if the darkness could swallow any sound, silence lingered in the camp. Everyone either occupied with their own issues or idly putting their hands to work managing their gear. Astarion had wandered away from his tent and from the campfire, safe thanks to the pixie’s blessing and comforted in the shadows. It was a sense of familiarity that was bittersweet after todays events. 

The air was cold, the breeze rustling the blood red leaves of the few trees that could survive this darkness. The temperature didn’t bother him, he had long ago forgotten how cool the nights got. He could smell the dampness of the earth and of the rotting trees, the smoke of the campfire a vague note beneath it all. He surely smelled of smoke as well, it stuck to his clothes and hair despite how much he tried to cover it. ‘Rugged’ had never been a good look on him, he much preferred the sweet notes of incense and wine. But the worries of everyday issues were forgotten as he let himself fill his lungs with the fresh air.

Crack

The sounds of footsteps brought him back to the moment and he quickly turned around, the thought of a shadow cursed boar or harper still a relevant danger. Instead he was met with a friendly face. A friendly frowning face.

“What are you doing out here? You didn’t even bring a torch or anything, no one knew where you had gone.” You stopped a few meters away from him, half expecting to be able to return to the warmth and glow of the campsite since you had found the lost vampire. A light cantrip had been cast on the crossbow you kept strapped to your back, you always kept it within reach.

“Oh it’s just you, hah I thought I was about to be ambushed for a second. Were you looking for me? Awh you even asked the others where I was, how cute.” He teased, giving you a playful smile before turning his back to you once again. He heard you sigh before your footsteps grew closer.

“You shouldn’t wander off while we’re here.” Your words held no weight, you knew you couldn’t stop him if he was to actually wander away from camp. They were more like an attempt to keep any guilty conscious from getting to you if he did get hurt. But he still liked the thought that you might actually have been worried. “...Are you looking for something to feed on?”

“Around these parts? Gods no, I wouldn’t even touch a dead squirrel with a ten foot pole around here, not after that damned raven. I’ve accepted that I’ll just have to make do until we’re in sunnier parts.” He could feel his stomach writhe at the thought of something to dig his fangs into. He knew you had let him feed from you before but he had never been the one to ask, it’d feel like breaking an unspoken rule.

“Makes sense, those things came out of nowhere. Even the corpses have been cursed…” There's a pause and hesitation to you, an abnormality in your conversations. “Why didn’t you drink from the drow?”

He knew you’d ask, yet his face grimaced at the mere thought of her and her blood.

“Bah, she’s a blood alchemist, who knows what kind of stuff is running through her blood? I’m sure I wouldn’t be allowed to keep anything down if I drank from her.” He quickly recovered from the unintentional show of genuine disgust. “Besides, what’s the fun in a willing victim?” He turned his head to look at your face finally, putting on another playful smile and hoping you’ll take his joke as a response.

You don’t. Instead you cross your arms and raise your eyebrows ever so slightly at him, waiting for the real response. He’s unwilling to give it and instead looks away, gazing down into the valley beneath the cliff you both stood on. 

“C’mon, give me a real answer Astarion.” You lightly bounced your shoulder against his, the casual touch a surprise but not an unwelcomed one.

“Ah, you always have to dig your nose into things, don’t you… Fine, I simply didn’t want to. But that’s no reason to turn down whatever aid she might’ve had…”

“It’s as good a reason as any.”

Silence.

You hadn’t judged him. You just… took his choice at face value. Did you really nearly spill blood on the floor of Moonrise towers simply because he didn’t want to bite her?

“That’s it?”

“...What? Is there another reason you didn’t want to? You should’ve just told me from the beginning then, but go on.”

It’s almost funny how seemingly clueless you are. A dry laugh escapes him.

“No, it’s true. I simply didn’t want to. But you’re just so casual about it! Who knows what kind of powers she could’ve given us? But you decided to threaten her instead, it’s highly unlikely she’ll sell us as much as a health potion or even an antidote from now on.” He waves his hands around, frustrated by your seeming lack of care.

“You said no.” You shrugged.

“I-” He pauses, dumbfounded. “I said no… I didn’t want to bite her and you respected that… You even stood up to her for me, even though you don’t like me. I just can’t seem to understand you.”

You suddenly look just as confused as he did a moment ago, turning to fully face him for the first time since you joined him in the dark.

“...Who in the hells said I didn’t like you?”

“Well… Well no one said it, but I mean it’s not like you enjoy my company. It’s obvious everytime we talk. You don’t even give me as much as a smile when I tell you you’re beautiful, and when I try to playfully ask you to bed you just mock me. Yet you always come wandering over to me and so I try again, I mean why else would you want to talk to me? I may not be a mindreader, darling, but you’re sort of sending mixed signals here. I thought we just acted on the basis of respect here.”

Did you want him to try harder? Or stop fully with his advances? He really didn’t know what you wanted.

“I… Well…” In the darkness, with you backlit by your crossbow, he might be mistaken but there seems to be a blush creeping onto your features. “Didn’t you ever think that maybe I just don’t know how to respond?”

Oh.

Oh.

Aren’t you just adorable? Smugness builds in his chest and he opens his mouth, about to speak but you’re quicker.

“Besides, it’s obvious you’re just a flirt and I… I didn’t like being so affected by someone who isn’t serious. It’s embarrassing falling for something that's so fake, so practiced. So I ignored the flirting, I knew it was just lighthearted fun after all.  And I still like you outside of the compliments and teasing.” You hold your crossed arms even tighter together, unable to look at him. Instead you watch the slow fog rolling across the barren land. Your face lit by the soft glow of the moon just above Last Light Inn.

Astarion hadn’t even had the thought that you simply hovered around him because you… liked him. It was such a simple answer and yet it would’ve been the last thing he could’ve guessed. 

He liked you too.

A lot.

A lot more than he had previously allowed himself to feel. Could he even allow it now? What if he had ruined his chances of something more than… than what already was. The status quo had grown comfortable, predictable.

“I see…”

It’s all he can say. He can see that it wasn’t what you had hoped he’d say even if you weren’t looking at him.

A moment passes in silence.

There’s a look on your face suddenly, it looks almost pained or embarrassed, maybe it was both but just as quickly as it had flashed over your features it was gone. You let out a sigh and let your arms fall to the side, turning away from the outlook, clearly about to leave.

“Well that was… the worst. Anyways, I’m heading back to camp. Take your time, I’ll make sure there's supper left for you when you come back.”

Astarion realizes in a heartbeat that he was allowed to want something more.

You don’t even get one step away from where you stood before a hand grabs your arm with unnatural speed, holding you back from moving any further away. You nearly jump out of your skin by the motion, staring at the rogue. His face and eyes now lit by your crossbow, his eyes are wide as he watches you like prey. A shiver runs up your spine, he’d never looked at you like this before.

“Earlier today, when Araj asked you to let me bite her, you said I could do whatever I wanted.” His eyes don’t leave yours and there's something about their intensity that makes your cheeks heat up.

“Mostly, anyways…” You repeat what you had told Araj.

That seems to have been all the confirmation Astarion needed, suddenly closing the gap between you as he takes a step closer and pulls you into him. You catch yourself on him, the sudden movement taking you by pure surprise. Before you can register what has happened properly, his other hand has grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger with a firm grip and tilted your head up to face his. His unnaturally cool breath hits your lips as he’s leaned in, inches from yours but he stopped there. You’re trapped in his presence, it’s overwhelming in a way you always tried to avoid. But you wouldn’t dare move now, afraid to ruin whatever was happening.

“Then I want to kiss you…” His words are low, soft even.

“...I’d like that…”

In an instant his lips hit yours, soft and velvety. They feel just like you had thought so many times when you’d watched him talk. They’re cool compared to yours, something you hadn’t thought about but it somehow made everything feel so much more alive. Every soft stroke of his lips against yours was vivid as they parted and pushed up against each other, over and over again. The hand that had grabbed your face had smoothly slid to the back of your head, making sure he had you where he wanted you. The other hand had left your arm and was pulling your body against his, keeping you as close as he could physically keep you.

Astarion pushed into your body with a want, a need and a hunger you hadn’t ever seen him exhibit before.

He pulled away from your lips too soon. You didn’t realize how much you needed air before it filled your lungs abruptly in a labored breath.

In the glow of the moon and your makeshift light you could see his face. He was smiling at you, his fangs just barely peeking out from behind his lips. His eyes weren’t as wide anymore, instead crinkled at the edges from his smile but the look of predator remained in them still. He needed you.

“You taste divine, my dear.” You try to scoff, the comment was stupid in relation to simple kisses after all. But you don’t get much of a chance to react to his flirtatious attitude before he’s leaned back in, this time hovering over your neck with his mouth. His nose nudges the underside of your ear as he keeps your head still with the hand still firmly holding the back of your neck.

“But I want to taste your blood, if you’ll let me.”

Goosebumps spread down your arms and your breath catches in your throat. The hidden meaning of what he’s asking of you isn’t lost, not after today’s events. He wants your vulnerability, your submission, your blood. You had always been the one to tell him when he could feed from you, now he’s asking directly to do so. He wants to see your trust in him. That even when he’s a starving animal, he won’t hurt you, won’t take more than he needs. 

And he wants to show you how much he wants you.

His teeth graze over the soft skin of your neck, waiting for you to give him the sign. You nod.

His teeth pierce your skin, familiar pain shoots from the bite. You clench your teeth for a second before you relax, letting out a shaky breath. The pain dulls with his hands slowly starting to roam your body, one carefully tangling in your hair as he brings it up. He takes a soft grasp on it, using it to meaningfully guide your head to the side and giving him more space to drink from you. You don’t provide any resistance, all hesitations towards his advances were being washed away with each wave of pleasure and pain.

There’s no rush to him, no tension as he takes his time to enjoy you. Instead of the usual controlled and precise way he usually fed from you, when you both believed it to simply be an act of survival. Now he lets his tongue lap over the wound, the odd feeling of your hot blood and his cool tongue intermingling against your skin. He momentarily leaves the spot to kiss up your neck, intentionally letting your blood drip down and leave a trail as you shudder from the pleasure. His body is still firmly pushed against yours, his free hand carefully sneaking under your shirt to push against your bare skin. He’s pulling you against him and you've realized there's a rhythm to it, a slow and teasing tact to his grinding. It feels good, being so enveloped in him. When he feels ready again, he dips down to lick up the strip of scarlet that had formed, finishing with an open mouth kiss back where he started. The sharp inhale you make is punctuated by a soft moan, giving away your feelings and you realize you’ve been caught enjoying this maybe a little too much.

Embarrassment burns through you as Astarion pulls back to watch your face, a chuckle rumbling in his chest and spilling out between his lips, putting fuel to your fire.

“Now wasn’t that just adorable, I never expected you to make such cute sounds. Why haven’t you let me hear those when I’ve fed from you before?” He’s messing with you, a playfully mean glint to his eyes.

“You know why.” You say defiantly.

“Maybe…” He pretends to think about it, leaning back into you to place soft kisses along your jawline. The hand in your hair keeps you in place as he does. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“It feels good… this time…” You whisper but you know he’s heard you by the way you feel him smile against your skin.

“Is that so? I didn’t know you were such a masochist but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, who else would be so turned on by being bitten by a vampire.” He mocks you, the way he laughs leading to even more embarrassment and frustration coursing through your body. Partially by the way his laugh makes desire shoot right to your core.

He’s mean but it somehow turns you on even more, though you’d never tell him that. This is what you were trying to avoid after all, being so easily wrapped around his finger and put under his control. A part of you is still fighting his control and you try to step on his foot as payback.

Your foot only hits soft dirt as he quickly moves his own. Suddenly the grip in your hair is tightened and he pulls your head back further, forcing you to stare into his eyes directly. You’re scared that you were going to be met with anger or even hurt over your sudden and involuntary rejection. Yet all you’re met with is delight when you look into his eyes, his heavy breathing filling the night air with the smell of blood. 

“There it is, I always did enjoy the way you pushed back. I was worried you’d have gone soft on me.” He seemed ecstatic by your actions and you flushed again, he really did like it. “But just to make sure, darling… What do you want?”

For a moment you’re frozen, your head spinning from everything happening and partially from the blood loss. Not to mention the blood that had pooled somewhere further below. Yet worry brewed in the back of your mind and without thinking you blurted something out.

“What do you want, Astarion?”

You needed to know that this was what he wanted, despite him having taken the main lead, you wanted to make sure he had an out and that your own desires wouldn’t shackle him too.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re too considerate. But I strongly believe we want the same thing right now.”

“I want you.” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could think again and Astarion drank them up like wine spilled from the bottle.

“That’s what I thought,” he kisses you again, the taste of iron still fresh on his lips. “I want you too, afterall.”

His kisses distract you as his skillful fingers leave your hair and skin, instead grabbing the buckle of the crossbow holster that was strapped across your chest. He can't seem to keep his mouth quiet while he does it though, not that you should expect Astarion to be able to keep his mouth from running.

“I want you below me, I want to hear you gasp and cry out in pleasure…” He’s breathless, wrangling the strap of leather over your head, mindlessly chucking the crossbow somewhere nearby. The light still reaches you two, if just barely. Darkness claws it’s way closer, you pray it’s enough to keep you hidden away from wandering companions who wonder where you’ve gone. “I want you exposed and naked, darling, I want to dig my teeth into places only you and I will see.”

His fingers dig the rest of your tucked shirt out of your pants, his nails pleasantly scratching against your skin as he grabs bunches of the fabric and pull it up over your head as well. The cold air is suddenly intruding on your warm skin and you gasp. Astarion is quick to place his lips onto the newly exposed skin, placing kisses across your collarbone and to your shoulder.

“I want to feel your warmth against me, I want you to take me as you dig your nails into my back. I want to push you down just to feel you push back.” Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as his own hands grab your behind, using the leverage to once again pull you in close. You can feel the hardness that had grown between his legs. He keeps going, talking in a daze in between the kisses. You don’t know if he’s drunk on your blood or just aroused, maybe it’s a combination of the two. He’s grown warmer to the touch thanks as your blood reinvigorates him. “I want you to feel me, feel every thrust as I ruin you. I want to tease you until you cry, I want to punish you for holding back on me this whole time. I want you to feel what you’ve done to me.”

You don’t get a moment to respond to him, you don’t even know what you could say. He takes your hand in his as he helps you both lower yourselves to the ground, the grass tickling the palm of your hand as you find purchase. He pushes himself over you, his knees firmly placed between your thighs, still holding your hand to push you down until you're laying below him.

“I want you to want me, just as I am.”

There’s a vulnerability to his voice and his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly as he takes a moment to take you in. You look up at him, his white curls a little more messy than when you arrived and his lips a little more flushed. The moon is still high in the sky and though not as bright as usual, it’s enough to shine down on him and he looks… Ethereal. 

You take the pause in the flow to heave yourself forwards, pushing back and he lets himself fall back to sit on his knees as you kiss him again, slightly surprised. 

“I do, Astarion, gods be damned I do.”

You can’t take it anymore, he’s still fully dressed and you're desperate to see more of him and tired of being the only one exposed. Your hands grab at his shirt, messily working it out of his pants with a furrowed brow. A smile grows on his face and he laughs at your clumsiness before deciding to help you out. It only takes a moment for his own shirt to be discarded in the grass somewhere nearby. 

“You’re so forwards, did I really rile you up so much? I thought you didn’t like it when I ran my mou-” You interrupt him with a forceful kiss and he doesn’t hesitate to lean into it. Your hands finally touch his bare chest, letting your nails lightly scratch his skin as you run them further down. You feel him shudder.

“I like hearing you talk and you can run your mouth for hours but…” Your breaths are heavy as your hands reach his thighs, softly grabbing his legs. “I need you to touch me while you do it…” You’re trying to be bold but the desperation seeps through your voice and you look up at him through your eyelashes, unable to fully face him.

“Shit… Aren’t you just perfect? Who am I to deny you what you need…” He gives in to you, pushing you back enough to let him untie the lacing on your pants. It only takes a moment of shuffling until he’s rather expertly slid your pants off of you, leaving you in your undergarments. His hands grab your knees and part them enough for him to settle back inbtween them before they slide up your thighs. You're already working on the lacing at the front of your bra, pulling and tugging on the ribbons hurriedly. It gets even harder when Astarion decides he wants to taste you again, his lips finding your neck and hungrily licking for the taste your blood as left. He’s sucking hard enough that you’re rather certain there will be a bruise in the morning but you don’t care enough to reprimand him now. 

“Having some issues there, darling?” He teases as he feels you continue to loosen your bra, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

“No, it’s fine, ah! There, I got it!” You finally get it loose enough to pull over your head but Astarion doesn’t waste any time. As soon as you’ve managed to get it above your chest, his mouth has found your breast and taken a nipple inbetween his lips. Your reaction is instantaneous as you arch your back into him with a loud gasp, your arms freezing above your head with the bra still tangled between them. 

His cold tongue swirls around the bud skillfully and you're sure you can almost feel his fangs grazing against the sensitive skin. You're unable to keep quiet and even when you purse your lips together, the sounds betray you. But Astarion prides himself on his multitasking, one hand finally reaching below the edge of your panties. You’re already drenched thanks to his previous actions.

“My-my, you’re soaked. How often have you imagined this? Everytime you’ve let me feed from you? Everytime we’ve been alone together? Or just when I’ve put the thought in your head, hm?” His fingers slide between your wet lips, slowly spreading them as a finger found and began to circle your clit, not quite touching it.

“It’s not like tha- ah!” He doesn’t let you finish, instead taking the moment you opened your mouth to slide two fingers into you, curling them ever so slightly.

“What did you say?” He mocked confusion, continuing to slowly thrust his fingers into you.

“I… I haven’t…” You manage to get out between moans and heavy breaths, your brain going into overdrive trying to focus on what you’re saying. Astarion clicks his tongue and suddenly his free hand has pinched your nipple inbetween two fingers and his thrusting has gotten quicker.

“Lying is a sin, didn’t you know that my dear? Are you afraid of hurting me? Here I was, hoping you’d think of me daily. The thought of you touching yourself just because of my bite would simply delight me.” He rolls your nipple inbetween his fingers and you can’t think anymore, all you can do is roll your hips against his hand and writhe underneath him. “Come on, confess to me, beautiful.”

“I…” You struggle to formulate any sentence but his attention doesn’t falter, instead he looks like a cat whose playing with a mouse. He shifts his body so your leg hooks over his thigh, pushing further up as he keeps pumping his finger into you. The new angle lets him hit that spot you can never quite reach yourself. The closer you get to formulating words, the quicker he goes until the lewd sound of his hand hitting your soaked pussy is all that can be heard. You’re getting so close. “Fuck- I have, I-I’m sorry-”

Suddenly he laughs, loudly and with a sharp edge of ridicule. His hand slows to a near stop, simply pushing and curling his finger as he grinds the palm of his hand into your clit, keeping you close to that edge of cumming. You’re dazed and confused when you look at him, why is he laughing?

“Oh you are simply a riot, you sweet thing.” He smiles too kindly as he pulls his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing. He leans back as he sucks your juices from his fingers and push yourself up on your hands.

“Did I say something wrong?” You’re nearly panicked, worried you messed up and told him too much.

“No, no, not at all. The opposite actually.” He gives you a grin that clearly shows off his fangs.

“T-then why..?”

“You were close to cumming on my fingers, right?”

You nod, dumbfounded.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Huh? W-what, why?” Your brain is still hazy and you can’t think straight, his confusing answer didn’t make it easier for you either.

“Simply didn’t want you to.” You consider that maybe you did this to yourself, teaching him the power of simply refusing. You wanted him to have agency, but in this very moment you also wanted to cum. You wanted him to want you to cum. You can only guess that you looked especially conflicted because you were pulled from your thoughts by Astarions laugh again. When you look over to him, he’s untying the lace of his own pants. “Okay, no, I didn’t want you to cum on my hand because I want you to cum on my dick, simple as that actually.”

“Oh you’re such an asshole…” You mutter under your breath but his grin tells you he heard you as he pushes his pants and underwear down his legs. You take the moment to pull your own panties off.

“Ah, did you want to cum at all tonight, pet?” He threatens playfully as he finds his place between your legs but whatever reply you had died in your throat as your eyes land on his cock. You had imagined it before yet embarrassment had kept you from thinking of any details, yet there it was. Hovering over you, Astarion used one hand to hold himself up, the other softly tracing up your thigh as he took in your reaction and in turn observed your beauty. You laid beneath him, bare and vulnerable. Trusting and turned on. Just like he had wanted you. “Hm? Cat’s got your tongue? Come on now…”

He leaned in, kissing your lips once before once again lavishing the skin of your neck in open mouth kisses and playful nips that had you jolting under him. His cock just barely rested on your pussy lips as he slowly and softly moved back and forth.

“Fuck… Ah…” You sigh in pleasure but it’s not enough to satisfy Astarions ever growing need to embarrass you.

“Words, darling, use them. What do you want?” he whispered against your skin, pressing his cock further into the softness of your cunt with the base of his thumb, slowly fucking the space between you and his hand. Your slick coats him and he can’t help but sigh in relief. “Tell me, or I’ll just use you like this until I cum and leave you as you are.” It’s a threat without any truth, but it’s enough to push you to speak up.

“Maybe you should just… Shut up and fuck me, Astarion.” Your hand grips his hair, pulling it enough to guide his head back up to meet your eyes. The spark of your rebellion to his teasing thrills him to no end. “I want you to fuck me, is what I’m saying.”

Lips and teeth and tongue suddenly clash as he presses his mouth to yours. It’s messy and rough, you bite his lip and he moans. Your arms wrap around his neck. He finally guides himself to your opening and pushes the tip in. You both shiver, momentarily pulling away to whimper. And then all at once, Astarion pushes the rest of himself into your heat and you feel divine. You're forced to pull away and the feeling makes you drop your head back as you take a sudden, sharp inhale. Pleasure crashes over you and just as you feel like you can recover, Astarion is already ahead of you and starts to thrust. Whatever recovery you thought you could get is quickly washed away as moans and whimpers are all the things you can utter in that moment. His desire and desperation can be felt in the pace he quickly falls into, his mouth finding your breast once again but this time his earlier control seems to be gone. He bites into the soft flesh, his fangs sinking into your skin and you gasp. The pain and pleasure is overwhelming, the signals getting mixed up and all you know is that he feels good.

You lost count after the first three bite marks Astarion leaves on your body, you weren’t even sure if all of them broke skin or would leave any marks but surely some were. The thought crossed you, of meeting your companions when morning light comes and the view of the marks up and down your neck. And you, who had worked so hard to keep your attraction to Astarion pushed so far down, suddenly it’d be obvious you’d become his plaything. And yet the thought made you clench around Astarions cock, ecstasy taking over whatever shame you had just felt. 

Your peak was quickly building back up, and you repositioned your arms to grab around his shoulders and up his back. Letting your nails dig into his marble skin just like he had wanted.

“Hah, to believe you’d take me so well… Especially after all that grandstanding about- hah, fuck… not falling for the sweet things I say.” The smugness in his voice was annoying yet you felt your core tighten even harder at them. You dug your nails even harder into his back in response and you felt him stutter in his pace, a pleasured whimper slipping out from under his breath. “Shit,  yeah just like that, sweet girl.”

Of course he’d like it. You hide your face in his neck, unable to do anything else. You’re getting so close again.

A hand pushes inbetween you two as Astarion slips his thumb where you two are connected. He quickly finds your clit and presses down.

“Come on, I want you to cum on my cock… I want to push you over the edge, watch you cry out in pleasure…” You’re both dazed as he starts to rub your clit. Your back curves and you gasp, letting go of Astarion as you push your hands into the grass over your head, gripping it. “That’s it, cum for me, beautiful.” 

The last thing you register is his smile and his fangs glinting in the moonlight as you finally tip over the edge. You're flooded with white, hot pleasure as you screw your eyes close and arch your back off of the ground. Astarion doesn’t stop, his thumb relentless as he rubs you through your orgasm. He’s pounding into you, fast and rough but as you keep clenching around him he can feel how he’s losing himself. You’re still riding your high when his hands hit the ground on either side of your head and you can barely register his face as it hovers above you. He’s breathtaking, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows scrunched together. You see his white eyelashes as he closes his eyes, fully focusing on how good you feel around him. His pace becomes an uneven mess fueled by a frenzy and his feral need for you. Each hit of his cock against your inside sends another intense wave of pleasure bordering on pain and you take it, whimpering.

And as he pushes into you as far as he can the scales finally tip and he cums, flooding your insides with his cum. You can feel the pulsing inside you as he collapses over you, you both breathing heavy and slowly coming back down from your highs. 

It takes a minute before you're both in any condition to move, using the little energy you had gathered to roll over to your sides, facing one another. There's a comfortable silence as you let whatever happened to tonight soak in. Astarion is carefully watching your face, looking at the myriad of marks he’d left on your neck without even thinking. He never left marks usually, the proof of the nights spent with others made him nauseous. But his brain had been telling him that he should… that he needed to. He wanted you, after all. Reaching out with his hand, he carefully traced one of the bite marks. Your eyes suddenly widened.

“By the gods- What in the hells am I going to tell Shadowheart…” You groaned and hid your face in your hands. Astarion raised an eyebrow.

“...Was there something between you two I had just missed? Cus in that case I might not be able to come back to camp for a while.” He joked.

“No, no not that. I had just… mentioned to her that I wasn’t falling for your stupid flirting and how it was obvious you liked to fuck around and I just… Didn’t want that to be me. I’m pretty sure I called you annoying as well.”

Astarion once again laughed at you, the fact that you would both be facing a very judgemental Shadowheart was very amusing to him. He’d rub it in her face if he could, but the hickeys and bitemarks on your neck was probably enough.

“But now that is me… Ugh.”

“... You know I didn’t bed you just because I could, right?” Astarion spoke up, awkward in his approach.

“Well yeah the whole ‘I want you’ thing was pretty consistent. But what do you want with me?” And there was that straightforwardness he always found a little intimidating.

“I… I don’t know, but I want you. That’s all I know.” He studied your face before turning to lay on his back and look into the starless night. “Do I have to choose what that means now?”

“...No. Just… Tell me when you know I guess.” You shrug and turn to look at the sky as well. 

“Can I want you to come closer?” Astarion spoke into the night, his voice barely heard over the breeze in the trees.

You don’t answer, just shuffle closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. He smiles, it felt nice having someone close even after you were… done.

“Though we shouldn’t stay here too long, I’m pretty sure I have grass up my ass crack and it’s colder than the hells out here. Sorry but you don’t exactly help either.”

“Oh aren’t you just charming, didn’t you ever learn some manners?” You both laugh and the shadowlands feel a little less… bleak, at least for tonight.

[coryosbaby]

— ɪ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀɴ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ, ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ !

cowboy! Coriolanus snow x fem! Reader

synopsis: you meet a handsome, mysterious cowboy at a carnival.

content warning . western au, dumb choices, handjobs, cunnilingus, age gap if u squint ig

When you first lock eyes with him, it’s at a county fair.

How cliché it is, but in a small southern town of Kentucky it’s not that uncommon to meet your lover at such an event. Everyone from your town knows each other, knows every name, face, and house. It’s a wonder that anyone has any privacy at all.

But the man you’re looking at, you’ve never seen him around these parts before. His brown curls are hidden— you know he has brown curls because of the way the brunette locks peek out from underneath his cowboy hat. He’s wearing a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders, and the usual pants you see on every other man. But he wears all of this so exceptionally well that you can’t take your eyes off of him.

And he’s looking at you.

You shiver as you watch him watch you. Your momma stands beside you and gossips with her church going friends, and you hope she doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving this perfect stranger. She’d pound your hide for sure. You smooth down your dress, your eyes wondering to the man’s muscle-ey arms. He must be very fit underneath that outfit.

He moves, walking towards a ring toss game and winks at you. Heat creeps down from your fingers to your toes, your bloomers become drenched with arousal. You want to talk to him— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Your momma is busy, anyway, so what harm could it really do? You say goodbye to her and tell her you’re going to go play a few games. You’re not exactly lying about that. Your heel clad feet make their way across the dirt as you subtly take your place beside the man. He smells like soap and cigars, and you’re thankful that he isn’t like the smelly men that plague your location. He turns to look at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“Do you wanna play?”

His voice has a soft southern drawl, not as vibrant as yours but still there. He must be from somewhere more up north.

“I’m not that good at these games,” you sheepishly reply. “But I’d like to watch you, sir, if that’s okay.”

“Sir, huh?” He seems amused, and his big hands toss a ring that lands around an old milk bottle. “I’m not that old, y’know.”

You nervously fumble on the balls of your feet.

“I jus’ turned twenty.”

He looks at you again, taking in the sight of your lipstick smeared lips.

“Thought you’d be younger,” he teases, and you smirk.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not for me,” he laughs, throwing another ring and once again, landing it onto the milk bottle. You wonder what else his hands can do besides play carnival games. “I’m twenty five, sweet thing.”

A slight age gap, but nothing you can’t handle. He tosses the last ring towards the bottles, and it lands again. The man who’s monitoring the tent lets out a loud whistle.

“First winner of the night,” he says. “Which stuffed animal d’ya want?”

At the mention of the wall of prizes, your eyes dart to all of them. They land on a brown bear with a pink bow wrapped up around its neck, and you frown when you realize that you weren’t the one to win the game.

But to your surprise, the man beside you smiles with his shiny white teeth and points at the bear.

“That one, right there, for this pretty lady.”

Excitement floods through you as the man grabs the bear from the shelf. He hands it to you and you squeal, hugging the bear to your chest.

“Thank you, sir!”

You’re talking to the one beside you, not the vendor, and he chuckles.

"Coriolanus,” he says, and it rolls off of his tongue like honey. “My name is Coriolanus Snow.”

You smile at him as you reveal your name. His hands are cold against your skin when they brush against your shoulder.

“Well, [y/n],” he starts. “Do you wanna get out of here for a little bit?”

It’s against your better judgement to go off from your family for the comfort of a stranger. But this man— Coriolanus— he’s different. Your undergarments are soaked, too, you know they are.

“My momma told me I shouldn’t be alone with strangers,” you chastise. “Promise not to hurt me, Mr. Coriolanus?”

He leans in close to you, something dark drawling in his voice.

“I’ll do my best to take care of you.”

—

You didn’t tell your family where you went. They were probably going to be occupied for the rest of the night, anyway. Your feet pad against the ground as Coriolanus leads you out to his pickup truck. It’s a bit rusty, but it’s a lot better than the vehicles you’re used to. He opens the door for you— a gentleman— and you climb into the passengers seat with little struggle. You lean back in the seat and place the stuffed bear in between the both of you as Coriolanus takes his place beside you. The ride to this mysterious destination is shorter than you expect. He turns into the woods— a little creepy, but you have a switchblade in your corset so it’s fine. When you arrive in front of an opening in front of a lake, your eyes light up.

“You can swim, right?” Coriolanus asks you.

“Of course.” You reply, opening the car door. You skip over to the edge of the water, dipping your hand in to get a feel of the temperature. It’s a bit cold, but nothing you can’t handle. You’re so distracted by the scenery that you hardly notice the sound of Coriolanus’ belt buckle until you turn around. He’s unzips his fly and begins to unbutton your shirt. A humored smile spreads across your lips.

“Skinny dipping? Really?”

“Don’t do it if you don’t want to,” he shrugs, pulling his pants down past his thighs. “Unless you’re a coward.”

You gasp, lifting yourself back up and putting your hands on your hips.

“I am not a coward, Coriolanus Snow. I’m just a lady.”

“A lady who snuck off from her momma to be with a boy she barely knows?”

He has a point with that, and you let out a frustrated noise. You try not to blush as he slips his shirt off, left in nothing but his underwear. He takes his hat off, too, and his hair is just as perfect as you imagined. You finally give in, beginning to unbotton the top of your dress.

“You’ll have to help with my corset, I hope you know. This thing is such a hassle to unlace.”

“I’d be happy to.”

He seems smug when you pull your dress over your head, your bloomers and corset being revealed to him. You pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail and turn around so he can undo the laces on your corset, and his fingers strategically remove the strings in a matter of a few minutes.

“Seems like you’ve done this a lot, Coriolanus.”

He hums. “I guess you could say that I don’t lack experience.”

You scoff, turning around and sliding the corset off of your shoulders. Coriolanus gapes at your now bare chest, your hardened nipples on full display and your chest full and inviting.

“Neither do I.”

You move towards the water, and like a puppy dog Coriolanus trails in after you. The water goes up to your chest by the time you’re done moving, and Coriolanus pulls your half nude body close to him. You giggle, feeling like a giddy child, feeling free. He presses a kiss to your neck, then another, and another. It’s like you’ve known him your whole life. His lips brush over yours, not quite touching but just enough to give you the impression of his desire.

“Can I?” He asks, sweet and gentle. You nod, your head spinning, and his mouth molds to yours perfectly. His hands wrap tightly around your waist to hold you to him, and your arms come up to grasp the locks of his hair. He breathes heavy, pushing his hips against you, and you laugh against his lips when you feel his hardness press against you.

“You’re a filthy man, Coriolanus snow.”

He rolls his eyes, his palm coming down to rub over your breast. You gasp against his mouth, your mound pressing against his bulge, and he chuckles.

“Me?” He chastises.

“Mmm..”

Your hand reaches down, not shy to a man’s body as you move past his waistband. Your hand grips his cock, your tongue coming out to lick your lips when you feel how thick he is.

“Big boy, aren’t you?” You say with a throaty breath. He groans, his face burying itself in your neck as you begin to stroke him.

Your hands are like magic, your skill magnified tenthfold because it’s been a while since Coriolanus has been touched by a woman’s hands. His hips buck against you, precum dripping out of his swollen cockhead, and when your thumb brushes over the underside of his cock he lets out a deep, gravelly moan.

“You’re so good at this,” he breathes out, his grip on your waist the only thing keeping him up. “So good, darlin’, Fuck.”

You whine against him, his praise making your knees buckle. The water around you is still cold but it’s warming now because of your adjustment and your shared body heat. You can feel a few rocks poke at the bottom of your feet, but you can’t think about that right now. Coriolanus’ pleasure is like your own, and with the way he’s feeling… you don’t know how you’re still standing.

You reach past his cock for a moment to feel up his balls, soft in your palm, and the sound he makes is so guttural it’s almost as if you have killed him. His cock kicks, you can feel it and hear the water below you splash as your hand moves faster and gets him closer. He keeps spilling precious moans from his mouth, and you think you could spend everyday with him like this, even though you’ve only known him for a few hours.

“Gonna cum…” he whimpers out, his legs shaking. “Gonna cum all over your hand, baby.”

And you’re perfectly fine with that. You bite down on his earlobe, letting out a tiny giggle.

“Cum for me, Coriolanus. Cum.”

It’s an automatic command that has the boy thrusting one final time against you before he spills inside his underwear. Thick ropes of cum squirt against your hand, sticky and hot. You let him ride out his high before you press a wet kiss to his neck. He sighs against you, and he knows his body would be nearly limp if he wasn’t so fit. After that sigh he lets out a laugh, serotonin flooding his brain as you pull your hand out of his underwear. You smile at him.

“How was that?” You ask him. He tilts his head, biting teasingly against your cheek.

“So amazing that I need you up on that shoreline, darlin’. I needa touch you, too.”

You bite your lip, nervous as you reply.

“You don’t gotta do that. I know some men don’t like to.”

Coriolanus’ brows furrow, a look of disgust crossing his features.

“No man hates eating pussy. What kind of boys have you been hangin’ around?”

You stutter, trying to come up with a response but Coriolanus just shushes you and guides you back to the shoreline with his hands. His back muscles ripple as you watch him from behind, and you wonder what a wanderer is doing with muscles like that.

When you both get back to shore he tells you to stand and wait. He comes back soon with a blanket in his hands and spreads it out on the shore. You lay down on it, trying to calm your beating heart. Coriolanus takes a spot in front of you, sitting on his knees in between your legs. He smiles at you, his thumbs moving to the waistband of your bloomers. You nod to him, and with callused hands he pulls them down past your ankles. He throws them in the sand, the smell of your pussy hitting his nostrils and making him groan. His nose scrapes against your inner thighs, his hands holding your legs open as he begins to mouth closer and closer to your pussy.

“Coryo,” you whine, the nickname making his cock twitch. “Please? Y-You don’t have to, but I.. I really, really want you to.”

“Want me to do what, honey?” He says, his mouth hovering over your dripping slit. “Eat this pretty little pussy? Is that what you want?”

You cry out, nodding your head, begging for it now, and finally Coriolanus licks a long, wet stripe up your juicy cunt with his tongue. His eyes roll back at the taste of you, and he dives into your pussy like a man starved. His tongue moves up and down before probing your hole, slipping just the tip in as his nose rubs against your clit. You desperately hump against his face, riding his strong nose and squeezing around his wet tongue. You’ve never been eaten out before, never in your life. Not even with the handful of men you’ve lain with— none have ever wanted to do this or try to. You’re practically in heaven right now.

“Nghhh..” you moan, tears beginning to pool in your eyes. You jump when his finger brushes up against your entrance, slipping it inside next to his tongue and scissoring, and fuck, you never knew this could be so good. Your legs try to close around Coriolanus’ head but he grabs one of them with his free hand and pushes it down. Your legs hitch up, a sob spilling from your throat, and the man below you can’t stop humming and making precious sounds. Slurping noises echo throughout the empty, wooded area, and you can’t help but fantasize about being caught. How hot it would be, someone walking in on this, on this hot cowboy devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal, your fingers gripping his curls like your life depends on it as he drives you closer and closer to the edge like no other man has.

Coriolanus slips another finger inside you, removing his tongue from inside you and making his way up to your puffy clit. He captures it in between his teeth, suckling with everything he has, and without warning your body is seizing up and you’re cumming, a sob escaping you, your hands yanking on his hair, your legs shaking. Coriolanus drinks up your spend, his chin dripping with your release as he pulls away and wipes his mouth on his wrist. You look down at him, and a grin spreads wide on his face. You grin back at him, the post orgasm clarity overtaking you as gets up and digs in his pants pocket. He lays down beside you, taking out a cigar and a match as he lights it up. He takes a long drag and a silence overtakes the lakeside, the only sound the light summer breeze and the crickets in the woods. You turn on your side, the moonlight reflecting off of Coriolanus’ jawline. He turns to look at you too, passing the cigar off to you. You take it, trying not to cough or embarrass yourself because this is your first time ever touching one of these things. When you clumsily inhale and exhale, you give it back to him with curiosity on your face.

“What’s a man like you doin’ around here anyway?” You ask him. “You some kind of outlaw?”

He chuckles, his fingertips grazing your thigh as he looks up at the full moon in the sky.

“If I was, would you tell on me?”

He knows you wouldn’t, but he teases you anyway. You shake your head.

“I wouldn’t. It ain’t my business.”

He sighs.

“Maybe I am. And I think that’s why I need to tell you to stay away from me from now on.” He explains. His finger grips your wrist, tickling you. “I’m bad news, sweetheart.”

“I can handle it, cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans back again and closes them. He changes the subject.

“Do you need me to take you home?”

You shrug, grabbing the cigar from him.

“It can wait a few more hours. My momma’s gonna be livid when she sees me.”

And it’s true. Because when Coriolanus drops you off in his pick up truck with a promise to see you again (after your persuading), you show up at your front door barefoot, the teddy bear in your hands, and without a corset— Coriolanus had taken it from you as a souvenir, and he said he didn’t intend to give it back. In return, you had taken his hat and perched it on your head as a reminder of his touch. You give him a small thumbs up when you watch him get the hell out of dodge.

Your momma is furious when she opens that door, but you don’t regret this night one bit.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Family? Assemble!

Reporter: Gotham News, and we have a new supervillain on the line. Mr Phantom, what are your demands at the moment? Phantom with lack of sleep and with tears: I..I want a titanium model of a spaceship! And to get a good night’s sleep and to go to the local school…and some fudge and.. Reporter: Oh, my bad. Just one question for clarification, are you by any chance an orphan or are your parents villains? Phantom: I prefer the term mad scientists Reporter: Okay. So, Gotham news! And with me on the line is the new potential child of Wayne or Batman. Want to know how two serial adopters will share a child leading a double life? Stay with us and find out. Now let's check in with Jessie for our weather report. Phantom: Wait, what?

~~~~~

Danny spends the night running from the Red Hood with a bag of fudge, Red Robin with a pot of coffee, Batman with the adoption papers and, for some reason, Brucie Wayne with an idea of internship at a space station. Ha! The Justice League will never let a ghost into orbit. Not that Wayne can blackmail superheroes or smth. Danny: Fuck you all! I’m done with vigilante activity, I’m not your competitor! What do you want from me? And I’m done with crazy billionaires too. I swear, I’d rather be adopted by a local mob boss just to piss you off! ~Later~ Danny *sees peering out of the corner Matches Malone*: Are you kidding me?! Robbie *jumps off the roof and lands right behind Danny*: Stop running, lil brother, No one’s left the family yet. Minnie: What about Neal? Robbie *shakes a knife with a bow on the handle negatively*: He’s on sabbatical, that doesn’t count. Anyway, it’s a gift for you, cub. Danny: Um, thank you, but my lab scalpels are definitely sterile, and your blade was in who knows who before you brought it here. Robbie: It’s brand-new! And Archie decorated it with a ghost on the handle. Look! It's cute! With a smile and… Dick: Hands up! You’re under arrest for trying to steal our new member! Minnie: Why is he yours, damn cop? Selina: Boys, don’t fight. He’s mine. Schrodinger’s cat is still a kitten. Killer Croc: No way, my niece is staying with me. Danny: Uncle Waylon? Long time no see. Ra's: My grandson needs steady access to ectoplasm. Danyal, come with me. Danny: Over my dead body! Oh shiii…I mean no. Anyway, don’t you think the alley’s getting a little crowded?

~~~~

Killer Croc: Is he still mad at me? RR: Danny doesn’t talk to uncles who tried to eat his beloved brother Red Robin. Killer Croc: He wasn’t even your brother then. What do you want? An apology from me? RR: That would be nice.

~~~~

Danny: I didn’t think the GIW agents would really fear the reputation of Gotham and not follow me. What a relief! Jason *quickly throws the knife into the sink*: Wow, you got lucky. Alfred: Master Jones, why don’t you eat your steak? I thought last week you were complaining to Batman that 'cause of him you got not many prey. Croc *pulls a piece of white robe from the teeth*: Well, now there is a lot of it. Bruce *gives Jason and Croc the side-eye*.

~~~~

Ra's: You do realize that Malone, Wayne and Batman are the same person, right? Boy, you were born into a family of geniuses, don’t disappoint Grandpa. Danny: Triple pocket money, triple gifts for the holidays, the opportunity to complain about the same family member three times. No, Grandpa, I definitely don’t understand. Ra's: Smart little weasel.

~~~~

Selina: Okay. Purely theoretical. Do you like to steal? Danny: I wouldn’t say that. But somehow I stole the sword from the fright knight. And also stole few jewels but then I was under the mind control. I returned them. Well, the crown and ring of the king of the ghost zone I also took without permission. Oh, and the answers to the test once. And I’m really sorry about the last one. Neal: I feel the story behind it but I prefer to know nothing about it.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry Pie. aka - Cherry, Part Three.

There are certain things in life that can’t be denied. You’re starting to think maybe you and Steve are one of them.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - part three has arrived!! thanks for your patience, angels. thank you for all your continued enthusiasm and support for this series. I love them and I love you <3 as always, please reblog if you enjoyed!! it’s the only way to circulate my fics <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“The prettiest girl in the world just walked in.”

“Your mom?”

“Funny, Harrington. Try again.”

“My Cherry?”

Robin smiles knowingly, nodding her head. Not only did Steve automatically associate you with the phrase prettiest girl in the world, but he called you his. Some days, she wished she could slap him square across the face in hopes of waking him up to what everyone else could see so clearly.

“Hi, you two. Working hard, or hardly working?”

You giggle, and the sound bounces off the metal shelves of the Family Video Store. Steve’s mesmerised, stood unmoving with a beaming grin on his face.

“I’m the first, Steve’s the second.”

The boy kicks his coworker in the shin, laughing when she pinches the bare skin of his arm in retaliation.

“Not true.”

Steve takes you in for a second, stuck still in his place. You’re wearing his favourite sundress, all patterned and pretty in front of him. Your lips are glossy and skin glowy, sneakers on your feet a perfect white. The perfect picture of a summer day.

“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, breaking him out of his haze. He snaps back to reality and throws an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple sweetly.

“I was nearby anyway, thought I’d come in and see if you were busy. And I had to remind Steve to pick a movie for tonight.”

“We’re not watching a romcom.”

“We’re watching a romcom,” you say at the same time as Steve while Robin laughs.

“I better grab the new stock from the back. See you later,” she says, winking at the boy who still has you pulled tight into his side.

He rests his chin on the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your cherry conditioner and vanilla body wash. If Steve gets to heaven, he’s convinced this is what it’ll smell like.

“I finish here at 6, so I can come and get you, or you can wait for me at my place? Your choice, Cherry Baby.”

“I’ll wait for you. I was thinking I’d make us some dinner anyway, ready for when you get home.”

Home. Steve’s brain short circuits, a vision of a domestic life with a white picket fence flashing across his mind. He cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Sounds perfect,” he whispers.

You’re a little confused by all this sudden affection, but the last thing you’ll ever do is complain. If he wants to kiss you until you’re dizzy in the middle of this Family Video Store, then so be it.

“I should leave you to get on with stuff.”

“You could stay all day, if you wanted. We could make you wear the uniform and everything - no one would suspect a thing.”

You laugh, nudging his foot with yours.

“As tempting as that is, I have a little more shopping to do. And I have to get ingredients for later.”

You pick up your bag, swinging it over your shoulder as you look at him.

“See you later, Stevie.”

“See you later, Cherry Pie.”

You’re halfway out the door when he calls your name, head whipping around to face him.

“You’re so pretty. You know that, right?”

You look at your shoes, suddenly bashful at his boldness.

“You too, Stevie. Prettiest boy I know.”

You both go about the rest of your days floating on air, high on the giddy sweetness of it all.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Steve almost passes out when he unlocks his front door.

There’s candles lit and music playing softly, the kitchen alive with movement. Something smells delicious, and he can hear you humming along to a song he thinks he recognises as you chop and stir. He can picture it perfectly before he even enters the room, but the sight still knocks him off balance when he finally gets a good look at you.

“Honey, I’m home!”

You spin from your place at the stove to grin at him, petticoat trimmed apron tied around your waist to protect your dress.

“Darling! I’ve been waiting all day for you!”

You curtsy in mock greeting, which makes Steve laugh much harder than it should. He strides over and gathers you in his arms, squeezing you a little tighter than necessary.

“Steven, I saw you a few hours ago. You’re acting like you’ve just returned from war.”

“Forgive me for missing you,” he mumbles into your hair.

You sink into his embrace anyway, tangling your fingers into the back of his shirt and inhaling the familiar scent of it.

“Something smells really good.”

“It’s my famous cherry pie,” you grin, pulling back to look up at him. “Made it just for you.”

“You’re an angel,” he exclaims, spinning you around on the tiled floors. “An angel sent just for me.”

You try to ignore the way heat rises across your chest, his compliments warming your skin.

“Let me take it out of the oven, and then we’ll eat. You must be starving.”

He laughs, because you know for a fact he’s always hungry. You know everything about him. It should scare him, spook him, make him nervous. Instead he hums with the excitement of it, body alive with the anticipation of it all.

Steve changes out of his work clothes as you plate up dinner. He comes back downstairs to see you sat at the table waiting for him, all patient and pretty. He wonders momentarily what he’s done so right in life to be rewarded so greatly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“So you totally brought me a romcom, right?”

Steve wants to deny it, wants to tell you that actually he stood his ground and stuck to his word. Instead, he says,

“Of course I did.”

And you laugh, all silvery and melodic, because you knew he’d cave. He can’t say no to you, even if he wanted to. You don’t use it to your advantage as often as you should. Steve wishes you did a little more.

“I’ll make popcorn if you get the video set up.”

Snacks made and movie ready, you settle in next to Steve on the couch. The two of you always follow the same routine - you sit separately, a fair distance between you, watching the movie with your hands to yourself. Then, slowly, you migrate towards each other, until you’re pressed together without an inch of space to be found.

The same thing happens tonight.

You end up being spooned by Steve, both of you laying across the couch cushions. Your back is pressed to his front, legs tangled together, his arm keeping you bracketed in to him. He’s hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch the TV, pressing kisses into the skin of your neck absentmindedly every now and again.

The film Steve picked is one you’ve seen before, but you’re not about to tell him that. Instead, your eyes slowly slip closed, the steady rhythm of the boys breathing lulling you into a sleepy haze. He traces patterns over the exposed skin of your stomach with his fingertips, chuckling slightly when you flinch as he brushes a ticklish spot.

Your hips roll back into his as you try to adjust your position, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He inhales deeply, waiting for you to settle back down.

You don’t. You keep wriggling, clearly uncomfortable as you sink further into the couch cushions. Steve tries to help you, strong arm pulling you up and into him. You jut your hips once more, and he can’t help the small groan that leaves his lips.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the flashing lights of the TV illuminating the room. The movie is still playing, but you know it’s almost finished. Steve’s arm is tight around your waist, his breathing heavy against your shoulder. You shift your hips to alleviate the pressure on your tangled legs when Steve sucks in a harsh breath, startling you.

He’s warm behind you. So warm. His chest is moving ragged, panting against your bare skin. His fingers grip your thigh tightly for a second, before letting it go and soothing over it.

Oh. Oh.

You’re wide awake, suddenly. Liquid heat spikes its way up your spine, all prickly and electric. You’re not sure what your next move is, but lust is clouding all five of your senses.

“Steve.”

“Cherry.”

“Steve.”

You try to say his name more firmly, but it just comes out as a whine. The sound shoots straight to Steve’s core, his hips bucking into your ass involuntarily.

“You okay?” he mumbles into your ear, grip on your thigh tightening. His fingertips dig into your skin, and you pray you’ll still be able to feel it tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you breathe, but it’s a lie. You’re not okay. You’re on fire, every nerve ending in your body alight with molten heat. You think you might be shaking with it, hoping Steve doesn’t notice.

His hand smooths up from your thigh to just under your breast, resting gently on your ribs. Your heart is fluttering like a hummingbirds wings, frantic and delicate. He can feel it through his fingertips.

“I love you, Cherry Baby.”

You lose your breath momentarily, reminding yourself how to inhale. He always does this, always catches you off guard by telling you he loves you in the moments you expect it the least. It always means more, in times like these. He could have said anything to you just then, but he chose I love you. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or neither or both.

“I love you too,” you choke out. “So much.”

You grind your hips back into his, grinning when he groans all low and buttery. His hand glides up to cup your chest, squeezing gently as you arch into him.

“What do you want?” he asks slowly. “Tell me what you want, babe. I’ll give you anything. Need to hear you say it. Wanna hear you say the words.”

You let him ramble for a minute, trying to put your thoughts in order. You try as hard as you can, but all you can say is,

“You.”

Steve buries his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss into the space behind your ear gently.

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“Want you so badly, Steve. Please.”

The hand that’s on your chest dances down to your stomach, slipping underneath your sleep shorts. He traces his fingers over your underwear, moaning when he feels them completely soaked through.

“Shit.”

“Stevie.”

He strokes you gently, hips rutting into your back when yours jolt into his hand. Eventually, he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat before slipping two inside.

You keen instantly, back arching into him. His lips find home in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, teeth biting down occasionally to try and stifle his desire. You move your hips in tandem with his rhythm, grinding down to try and find the right spot.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Atta girl. Ride my fingers, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

His voice is like melted honey, all golden and warm. It’s making your bones turn to liquid, sinking further into the hold he still has on you with his other arm. Every inch of you is plastered to every inch of him, not a millimetre of space between you. You’ve never been so connected, both physically and emotionally. It’s like the tectonic plates are shifting, the very foundations of your lives changing right in front of your eyes.

Your chest is heaving, panting like you’ve just ran a marathon. All you can focus on is the white heat building in the pit of your stomach, volcanic and bright. When Steve crooks his fingers, you cry out, tumbling over the edge into a blind freefall with no parachute.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.”

“You’re so good f’me. Doin’ so well.”

“Ride it out, pretty girl. Fuck.”

“Make a mess, there we go. Just like that.”

You’re not even registering his words, but you know that he’s praising you. He always is. He thinks you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to teach him what love is.

Steve ruts his hips into your back, groaning as he finishes. He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed. The feeling of you writhing in his hold as you tightened around him was his undoing, whether he wanted it to be or not. He doesn’t mind.

You go boneless, head dropping back into his shoulder. He presses kisses onto your temple, your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can reach. You sigh in contentment, and Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and take it like a shot of espresso every morning.

“You okay?”

You nod and then giggle, dopamine rushing through your blood. You’re almost lightheaded with it, floating on cloud nine.

“Steve?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You turn in his hold to finally face him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair. You rest your sweaty forehead against his, panting into his mouth.

“Want it to be you.”

He pulls away slightly to get a good look at your face, eyes a little wide with shock.

“You mean…”

“Yeah. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but if you do, I guess I, um… there’s no one I trust more than you.”

“You know you can only lose your virginity once, baby.”

“I know. Which is exactly why it should be you.”

He grins at you, all giddy and love drunk, bumping your nose with his.

“You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Steve leans in to press his lips to yours, all slow and tender, kissing you as if you have all the time in the world.

Perhaps you do.

“Not tonight, obviously,” you murmur, chuckling under your breath. “Don’t think you could handle that.”

He scoffs, pulling back from you in disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just came in your pants and I didn’t even touch you. Who even knows if we’ll make it to actual sex.”

Steve pinches your sides, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape. You laugh, trying to squirm out of his hold without luck.

“You’re gonna be eating your words, Cherry Baby.”

You shake your head, blinding smile still etched on your face.

“You know what I am gonna eat? My cherry pie. I’m starving.”

Steve groans at the thought of the dessert sitting on the counter in the kitchen. No one does a cherry pie quite like you.

“Hell yeah. Let’s do it. There’s ice cream in the freezer, too. That vanilla bean one you like.”

You peck his lips before standing up on shaky legs, wincing as you do it.

“You good?”

“I’m gonna need a new shirt. This one’s sticky.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow and he can’t hold in his laughter, the sound of it booming around the quiet room.

“Shut the fuck up,” he jokes as he throws you over his shoulder. Despite your protests, he carries you up the stairs, smacking your ass a few times on the way for good measure.

When he puts you down, he cradles your face gently, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

“It’s me and you forever. You know that right?”

You know what he’s trying to say. I love you. You’re it for me. There never has been and never will be anyone else.

But neither of you are quite ready for those words. So instead, you say,

“I know. I’ve always known.”

And that’s enough, for now.

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss

for some reason I didn't tag some people from part one in part two... no idea why. sorry!

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : podcasting

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary: based on this ask!!! little blurb of the times you pop up on the ooc podcast

mickey speaks: this was so funny to write!!! also i need to be hamzah's gf yesterday bitch

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

hamzah having you in an episode with mandy and martin

“oh wow this couch gets kinda tight when four people are squeezed on here” hamzah says while adjusting a few pillows

“yeah,” martin starts before addressing the audience, “and, well, you’re probably wondering ‘who the heck is that?!’” he gestures his hand over to you, beside hamzah with your legs folded and knees lying against his thigh

you can’t help but smile as hamzah introduces you, “and, yeah, believe it or not i have a girlfriend.”

“i��m right next to you so i’d hope they believe it” give a soft giggle

“only hamzah would announce he has a girlfriend with ‘believe it or not’” mandy adds and hamzah throws a hand up in the air in defeat

★

martin: “i can’t help but think this feels like in middle school when people were just group dating all the time”

hamzah: “was group dating that common? i don’t remember that”

you: “i remember certain friend groups at my school doing that but i definitely wasn't participating”

mandy: “this isn’t really a group though martin, more like a double date? there’s four of us”

martin: "it's not all about numbers mandy sometimes there's just a vibe"

★

martin: “but you two have been dropping hints about dating for a while now”

you: “yeah, we’ve been doing a little soft launching here and there”

martin: “i like that term a lot actually”

mandy: “i think it’s cute, but i've seen a lot of people online that don't use it properly”

you: "i agreeeee, like you didn't soft launch by posting the back of his head if we already saw the front of it a week ago- we know who he is!!! there is no mystery"

martin: "oh so the appeal is the mystery... almost like scooby doo?"

hamzah, nodding his head: "mhm... exactly"

you: "it's always two dumb bitches telling each other-"

you and hamzah together: "exactlyyyyy"

martin looks over to mandy as the two of you laugh: "oh come on this is their first episode together and look at them mandy! we have to be cuter, come on. lock in."

hamzah: "hey no need to be jealous, my friend."

hamzah pats martins thigh

mandy: "so what was that right there?"

hamzah: "you wouldn't understand..."

martin: "no but seriously mandy you never soft launched me- only hard"

mandy: "there was no need to??? next time i'll do it i guess"

you, laughing: "next time???"

hamzah is sat in thought for an extra second before he replies to martin, making them both laugh

hamzah: “okay martin you said like that term so much? boy, now imma soft launch these nuts in your mouth”

you: "and i know you were thinking on that joke for a minute"

martin, through laughs: “okay, okay, enough”

hamzah, wiping his eyes: “well, now the jig is up. you know it's all aired out and public”

martin: “yeah... a hard launch on the podcast, that’s crazy bro”

you and mandy, mocking: “that’s craaazzyy brooo”

★

hamzah answering your call during a podcast

martin: “hamzah whenever you buy clothes from the store or get it shipped in the mail always wash your clothes!”

hamzah: “i do wash my clothes but if it’s new that doesn’t make any sense”

martin: “so you’re just gonna open it up and put it on?”

hamzah: “yes!”

hamzah’s phone starts ringing

martin: “and wow. now look who’s breaking the phone rule!”

hamzah: “stop shhh. it’s y/n”

he answers, hamzah: “hey what’s up?”

you see the mic in his hand and widen your eyes, you: “oh shit, i’m sorry to interrupt”

hamzah: “it’s okay i have something to ask you now anyway.”

you: "okayy.. do you wanna go first or me?"

hamzah: "you go ahead"

you: "okay quick- is this business casual enough for an event tonight?"

hamzah: "nobody is doing business lookin' that hot, you can't be serious"

you: "kay thanks"

hamzah, jokes: "you are not anyone's office siren, girl"

you: "i'm gonna hang up"

hamzah: "no!!! i need to ask if you wash your clothes after you buy them."

you: "if they smell like stale water and factory chemicals, yes"

hamzah: "martin is educating me on the importance of this unimportant thing right now."

you: "and you should listen to him, stinky"

martin: "thank you!"

hamzah: "oh nahhh, now i'm gonna hang up"

you: "mkayy bye, sorry for interrupting! bye martin!!!"

martin: "byee"

★

you drop something off at the warehouse studio while they’re filming

hamzah: "what was that noise?"

martin: "i don't know..."

hamzah: "it sounds like someone's actually trying to break in, what?"

martin: "were you expecting company?"

hamzah: "no, were you?"

martin: "no...i mean let's ask the audience"

martin turns to the camera, concerned

hamzah: "okay i'm actually about to go check. this is weird."

it cuts to a clip of hamzah sat again and you peeking your head in the frame to wave

hamzah: "nevermind. it was just my sweet girlfriend bringing us lunch, sorry if that scared you guys."

martin: "should we make like a super artifical thumbnail for clickbait? somethin' like; 'someone tried to kidnap us in our studio!'

hamzah: "no"

★

they have a trolling episode where you and mandy both sub in and act as martin and hamzah for an entire episode

mandy: "you know i find it crazy how we manage to talk about nothing for an entire hour"

you: "this is the talent people expect from us bro! and if we ever get too boring we can always discuss the state of sabrina and barry's relationship."

mandy: "true. and don't make fun of me but everytime man-crush monday comes around i'm always picking barry..."

you: "well if i can't make fun of you then i'll just stay quiet for your sake."

taglist -★ (some of u didn't ask to be tagged but have frequently liked my hamzah content lol, just lmk if you'd prefer not to be tagged!!!)

@sirenedeslily @333michelle @thatmartinkitten @@maybankfr @imsosillygoofylol @certainfestivalnerdshepherd

[rosenclaws]

Pride & Prejudice || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader

Summary: You're an actress auditioning for theatre production of Pride & Prejudice and Leopold finds you practicing your lines.

a/n: Okay so, I need more leopold being an actor and cute moments so this was born. Full confession. I have never watched or read Pride & Prejudice so I am very sorry if I messed up anything aksdfhl. Anyways i hope u like it!!!

The fire escape has to be Leopold's favorite place. He sits on the small chair and watches the bustling city below him. Overwhelming is an understatement when it comes to the last couple weeks.

Falling into the future sounds like a work of fiction, yet it was his reality. Adjusting hasn’t been the easiest but he’s lucky to have Kate and Charlie and well, you. 

“Do you think I could have ever considered marrying the man who has ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of my beloved sister?” Leopold perks up at the sound of your voice. 

You’re Kate's neighbor, kind of. You live below her. Leopold has seen you a few times, mostly when you lock yourself out of your apartment and need to climb through Kate's fire escape. He knows you’re an actor like Charlie but in the day time you work at a coffee shop. 

You served him once or twice when he came to visit you. Your knowledge of theater is extensive and Leopold always had an interest in the stage so conversation came easy. You also loved movies, something he was completely unfamiliar with. He remembers your eyes lighting up at the very idea of showing him your favorite films. A soft smile across his face as he recalls your many movie nights. Though he didn’t quite understand every movie, he could care less when you were so passionate about each and every one of them.

“You arrogantly and unjustly maneuvered Mr. Bingley away from Jane. Can you deny it?” The dialogue catches his attention, you must be practicing for a show. He climbs down the fire escape to your apartment. 

“Your manner…Ugh!” You fall back onto your couch as you throw the sides onto the coffee table. 

“I’m never going to get this right.” You groan helplessly. 

“I thought you sounded lovely.” You let out a small scream as you hear another voice. Turning your head you see Leopold sitting on your fire escape. 

“Leo! What have I said about knocking?” 

“My apologies.” He climbs through the window and walks over to you. He looks at the pieces of paper and reaches down to pick it up. 

“Pride and Prejudice, I had no idea they turned this into a play.” He flips through some of the pages. He remembers reading the book and enjoying it quite a bit. 

“Have you gotten the part?” You scrunch your face as you shake your head. 

“No. Auditions are next week. I…” You hesitate to continue but he smiles softly and you cave instantly. 

“I wanted to audition for Elizabeth but a couple friends told me I’d probably be a better Charlotte.” 

Not that you had anything against the character and a part is a part no matter how small, but you wanted to play more than a side character. Leopold's brows furrow as he sets down the script. 

“Nonsense, do not listen to them. I think you would make a perfect Elizabeth.” He compliments sincerely. Of course you would, he thinks. You’d be perfect in any role. 

“Thanks.” Your eyes drift to the sides on the table. Leopold stands with his arms behind his back, even in casual clothing he radiates this aura unlike anything you’ve seen. 

“You know Leo,” You smile as an idea pops into your head. “I think you should audition too.” Picturing him as Mr. Darcy is easy. After he did his butter commercial, you realized he was a natural for acting and with his background, he’d be perfect for period pieces. Not to mention how handsome he is. You’re sure the director would be tripping over himself to get Leopold a role. Leopold seems uncertain at your suggestion. 

“Here,” You pick up the sides and hand him the one for Mr. Darcy. He skims over the lines and frowns. 

“I do not recognize this.” 

“Oh yeah, they’re from the movie. The director wanted to include his big monologue and the kiss.” You explain, making a mental note to show him the movie later. 

“I understand wanting to take creative liberties and all but…” Maybe he’s a stickler for the classics but he isn’t exactly fond of changing such a well written book. 

“Just give it a try.” He sighs and stands a bit taller. 

“You are too generous to trifle with me. I believe you spoke with my Aunt last night, and it has taught me to hope as I had scarcely allowed myself before.” He looks up from the script and you give him an encouraging smile. 

“If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me forever.” You want to melt under his gaze. It’s not fair how easily the words flow out of his mouth. How naturally charming he is. 

‘“If, however, your feelings have changed…” To your surprise he sets down the paper and walks closer to you, holding out his hand to you. Hesitantly you take his hand, unsure of where he was going with this. He pulls you up, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“I could, I would have to tell you, you have bewitched me body and soul,” His hand gently grabs your chin as he steps closer to you. You stand frozen in complete shock. The script is long forgotten, the pages having fallen from his hands. 

“And I love and love and love you. And never wish to be parted from you from this day on.” He finishes his monologue as a whisper. You part your lips but no words come out, wanting to hold onto this moment for longer. 

“I believe you mentioned a kiss,” He mumbles. 

“It’s uh, towards the end…” He hums and without another word he gently kisses you. 

Your eyes flutter closed as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips are so soft, so gentle yet so passionate. One of his hands snakes to your lower back, guiding you even closer to him. The kiss breaks and you’re left breathing heavily, smiles on both of your faces. 

“You’re really good at this. Maybe you should become an actor.” You say jokingly. He chuckles and brushes his thumb along your cheek. 

“I was not acting,” He admits. 

“You are truly, utterly, bewitching and If you were to accept, I would die a happy man.” Jesus, he knows how to talk. 

“I would be an idiot to say no to you.” You grab his face and crash your lips onto his. He steps back but quickly matches your fervor. 

“Join me for dinner tonight, so I can court you properly.” He says breathlessly, his face slightly flushed. 

“Properly? So you don’t normally kiss a girl before dinner?” You say teasingly. 

“No, But for the sake of theater, perhaps I can make an exception.” That’s as forward as you’ve ever seen from Leopold, an innocent smile on his face but a clear spark in his eyes. Smirking, you glance at the scattered pages on the ground. 

“Good, because I think we need to run the scene again and again.” 

[saerins]

𝐒𝐀𝐄 // 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓

+ sae x f!reader | wc 5k | content: angst to fluff, breakups, exbf!sae, exes to lovers

notes: this is the alternate ending to conversations ! (requested by one of my anons) i’m so sorry this took so long !!! and i’m 100% sure you did not expect me to write anything this long but i’m sorry my hand slipped >_< again … i’m super rusty but i hope you guys still like this ^_^

summary: sae’s willing to throw everything else away to prove that out of everything in his life, you’re the one sure thing he needs. problem is, will you accept him after what he’s done?

he’s sorry.

he repeats it in his head, over and over again, his fingers almost numb from repeatedly pressing the call button on your number—over and over and over again.

sorry, sorry, sorry.

it’s no use, he knows. it’s why he’s here—why he’s taking a flight, bare-handed, back to japan, back to home, back to you.

“please switch off your phone, sir,” the flight attendant says politely, dutily, as the plane starts to move.

begrudgingly, he resigns, but the moment he starts hearing your voicemail message play, he sighs, speaking into the receiver.

“look, i know i fucked up and it was stupid of me to keep it from you. i’m sorry, okay? and i know you don’t want to speak to me right now but i can’t just sit around and do nothing. i love you, so i’m coming back home, and we’ll talk, and then… i promise you, nothing like this will happen again.”

yes, because he’ll make sure of that. he’ll make sure he doesn’t make decisions like a stupid teenage boy and he’ll make sure to trust you at every turn instead of trying to hide anything from you because you’re right. never in the course of your relationship did you ever doubt sae.

which is a feat. because given his profession and status, any number of girls would’ve been distrusting had they been in your position. not that sae knows, what can he say he knows about girls? nothing, apparently. after today, that much is sure.

as he turns his phone on aeroplane mode, he throws his head back and looks out of the plane window. less than a day till he’ll be there to see you in person. he’s not sure if you’re going to even want to see him, but he’ll try. you deserve that much, at least.

in his head, the same words repeat over and over again.

i’m sorry.

i love you.

you’re all i ever want.

by the time sae’s plane touches down, it’s night time in japan, close to midnight. you should be resting, probably tired out from crying; he can imagine, because stupid as he may be, he can at least say he knows you this much.

your words can be hard, cold, cruel, but you never are. you’re all soft inside, and you’d rather face your emotions alone than let anyone know how you feel. at least, when those emotions concern sae. you’ll keep them to yourself and keep crying, day after day, until you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

passport in one hand, his phone in another, he whisks off toward the taxi stand, mind in a mess because his phone’s now ringing with messages from everyone that isn’t you, probably concerning his absence from the last match of the tournament.

fuck the final match.

you probably thought he’ll play anyway. that he’ll play the match, and only afterwards would he attempt things further with you.

funnily enough, that’s what sae used to think too. before any of this happened. never in his life did he think he’d sooner rather sabotage his own career than lose you. it’s laughable, really, how much he’s so afraid of losing you that it clouds his judgement.

he should’ve been honest with you from the start instead of letting you find out on your own. it was that easy.

“could you step on it, please?” sae sighs, irritated at everything keeping him from you; the distance, the traffic, the stupidity.

the taxi driver narrows his gaze at sae through the rear view mirror, clearly annoyed. “i’d rather not get a ticket,” he replies monotonously, and sae sees that he’s driving at the speed limit. “wouldn’t want to get into an accident, would you?”

well, if he did, that would put a real hamper in his plans, so sae just shuts up and switches off his phone. none of them are you anyway. there’s no point.

as he stares out the window at the now-quiet city, he finds that, for the first time, he’s afraid of losing everything.

mira [7.28pm]: make sure you get enough rest! bought some soup for you in case you haven’t eaten :)

you look at the time now—12.14am. fuck, did you really sleep the entire day away?

the sliver of moonlight that shines through your blinds is all you see next to the pitter patter of the heavy rain against your window. it’s pathetic, really, for you to take a day off just because of that argument (if you can really call it that) the night before. you couldn’t bring yourself to even watch his game like you’d promised him you always would, once upon a time.

something tells you that he should expect that, though. even without watching his game, you know they’d win. sae has always been magical like that, being the playmaker he is. you imagine he’s probably with his team now, celebrating the win. or are they asleep right now? you never could get used to the time difference. it’s too much of a headache.

aside from mira, you see a voicemail message in your inbox. from sae. it makes your heart skip a beat. are you even ready to hear him and whatever he has to say? it’s why you’d been avoiding him since yesterday—you’re afraid you’re just going to crumble and forgive and get taken advantage of. it threatens to spin the same old story you’ve always known.

you click on it anyway.

“look, i know i fucked up and it was stupid of me to keep it from you. i’m sorry, okay? and i know you don’t want to speak to me right now but i can’t just sit around and do nothing. i love you, so i’m coming back home, and we’ll talk, and then… i promise you, nothing like this will happen again.”

will it though? how much can you trust his words after he already failed once? it makes you think twice, no matter how badly you want to forgive him because you do believe him. it’s most likely nothing, and what he said is most likely true, but it makes you upset that he thought of hiding such a thing from you.

just as you toss your phone aside, you hear a series of urgent knocks on your door, the thunder ruthless outside. slowly, you get up, dragging your feet against the hardwood floors and flinching a little as you hear how loud the banging is. you’re half afraid and half agitated, halfway between hiding yourself under the covers and threatening to kill whoever it is outside.

but then you swing the door open and you’re met with that pair of teal eyes you’ve always loved, his bangs matted against his face as he pants, the rainwater drenching him from head to toe.

“y/n,” he calls out, as though it’s been ages since he last heard from you. it’s only been a day, but it’s enough to make sae feel as though it’s been forever.

you’re a little shocked, your brain trying to process every single question that comes to mind.

is that really him? why isn’t he in spain? if he played the game, the timeline doesn’t add up—how did he get here so fast? is this actually a dream? holy crap it feels so real, though? why isn’t he saying anything?

“s-sae?”

you’re not even sure if you said that out loud—you’re a little too shocked to make sense of anything right now. but the moment the corner of his lips tug upward, revealing that lopsided smile you love, you know it’s real.

he’s here.

“i… came to talk,” is all he can say. he’s tired from running up the stairs. apparently tonight, everything was against him. there was an accident right at the street before the corner of your apartment, so he’d had to end the trip early and start running for it. by the time he got here, the elevators for your block were all undergoing maintenance and unusable. but fuck if twenty flights of stairs are enough to make him turn away.

you’re blinking a lot, as if you find it unbelievable that he’s here in the first place, but you nod anyway and step aside to let him in, wet clothes and all.

“how was work today?”

it’s definitely not what he came here from spain to talk about but you entertain it anyway.

“didn’t go,” you tell him, a little coldly, but you think he deserves that much, at least. “how was the game?”

“don’t know, didn’t go.”

you two are similar that way.

“why not?”

“i had other important things to do.”

“you do? pray tell.”

it’s the first time sae’s hearing you like this and he’s sure now that he never wants to make you like this ever again—going against your nature.

it’s lame, and overused, and you deserve an essay for why he shouldn’t and wouldn’t ever do this again to you but it’s sae and he’s never sure what’s good in these situations so all he can manage to say is, “i’m so sorry.”

you cross your arms as the both of you stand in your dimly-lit living room, the storm raging on outside. it’s not like you don’t know that. that aside, you’re pretty sure he’s the most sorry he’s ever been. and if you were still the same naive girl you used to be ten years ago you probably would’ve forgiven him by now.

but you’re not.

“okay, is that all?”

it’s not what you really want to say. you kind of just want this to be a dream; that picture of him and that random girl with their lips locked, that fight that you had that made you cry to sleep. you wish it was some sort of stupid nightmare that didn’t make him ruin your trust but it did.

sae, on the other hand, seems restless. he’s taken aback, not quite sure how to get through to you because he’s never made a mistake like this before. “just- could you… forgive me?”

the ache you head in his voice breaks you, and you’re sure he can see the tears threatening to spill, but you stand with your choice. “can i? i don’t really know, to be honest,” you respond, voice soft and low, not quite daring to meet his eyes in case you falter.

the contrast between how you were and how you are kicks him in the gut and he has no one to blame but himself. he doesn’t want to, but he can sense where this is going. he’s not stupid, he just… doesn’t want to believe it.

“please… don’t do this?” sae swallows the lump in his throat, the foreign way his heartbeat quickens out of fear stumping him. there’s probably more he should say, but maybe that just wouldn’t be enough anymore. his words can’t find him and he can’t find it in himself to reach out to you. not when he realises you out of all people hate the most for having to do this.

if you just blindly follow your heart, you’d leap in his arms right now, fuck how soaked he is. because you still love him. you know that, and you think maybe he knows it too, but judging by the perplexed look on his face, he probably doesn’t realise it. that’s why your brain does the deciding for you. it had already made its choice the moment you saw that picture, the moment you saw the headlines on that gossip rag.

“i… think we should break up, sae.”

before today, if you’d told yourself that one day, you’d say these words, you wouldn’t believe it. but here you are, breaking up with the love of your life.

sae is just standing in front of you, staring at you, the happy picture of the two of you during your second year anniversary hanging on your wall haunting him this very second. the command he gave his assistant to help him get that ring for you sending him into the pits of despair. he’s so stunned he doesn’t know what to say or do.

“you’re… serious?”

there’s no expression in his eyes. they’re just dull, and dark, and nothing like how you’re used to.

this time, you’re the one trying to force the words out of your mouth, calmly, because you’re afraid that the tears will just spill out. “you’re… you’re the one who told me to be kinder to myself, right?”

sae chuckles softly, helplessly, as he realises you take every word he says to heart.

EIGHT YEARS AGO

it was beyond him why you let yourself be subjected to this. nobody was a saint, but surely you deserved better than to be treated like trash?

sae understood a little of where you were coming from. it was hard to let go of a three-year relationship, but having you visit him crying in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly what he would condone.

“you can do better than him, you know that right?”

the words slipped out of his mouth before he knew it. he’d once sworn that he wouldn’t meddle in your relationship, that he’d let you figure it out on your own, but your heartaches were getting too often those days that sae just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

it probably wasn’t the best thing to say to you, considering how you were bawling your eyes out and staining his entire jersey with your tears, but sae was never one to filter his words.

“everyone says that.”

which tells sae you didn’t believe that.

“which means there’s some truth there,” he sighed, leaning back against the couch as you continued to bury your head in his chest. sae saw rin from the corner of the room, peaking out of the hallway and gave him a quick wave to signal him to leave them alone.

“i… don’t know what to do.”

you rarely ever did. having been your friend for the past four years before this taught sae two things: one, you gave your all for your relationship, and two, you were one of the kindest people he’s ever known. (and by extension, it simply meant you knew what had to be done, but you refused to do it.)

sae took a deep breath, eyes gazing up at the ceiling before he resumes, “i don’t know why you let people treat you like that.”

you stayed quiet, sniffling, though it’s getting softer now, so sae continues.

“you know, you’re one of the nicest people i know,” sae told you, fingers absentmindedly stroking your hair—the way he always wanted to but never let himself admit. “which is why it kinda sucks that you’re so stupid to let yourself be hurt by that asshole over and over again.”

the both of you chuckled at that. sae was glad to know you understood he meant only well.

“stop… letting people hurt you and then letting them get away like that, okay?” he said it softly, but you definitely caught it. “be kinder to yourself, fucks sake.”

he felt your fingers curl, gripping at his shirt as you stopped yourself from crying. you looked up at him that night, smiling as your tears dried, and sae remembered telling himself that he’d never want to be the reason you had to feel upset.

“when you say it like that, how can i say no?” you joked, laughing, wiping the last of your tears away. “besides, even if i was still being stupid, i’d always have you with me, right?”

sae remembers.

he remembers not answering you, but he remembers thinking yes, always. and he has a feeling you knew back then too, that sae would always be there for you regardless.

only if it’s you.

maybe even back then, you already knew how he felt for you. and you would always listen to him. you’d always believe in him. now he feels even more stupid for everything that transpired. with his words thrown back at him, he finds himself speechless.

“you’re right,” he replies, voice hoarse, his gaze dropping to the floor. sae was being stupid, and he’s crazy if he thinks he’ll be let off that easy.

you’re sniffling a little, and he does you the courtesy of not looking at you even though you’re already turning away. “i’ll mail you your stuff.”

“it’s fine, i’ll get rin to help me take ‘em.”

it’s a diplomatic breakup. polite, nothing out of line, just two adults deciding that maybe now just isn’t the time.

after a long pause, sae gets the guts to speak. “you know you’re the only one for me, right?” because he feels like maybe you’d been doubting it recently and he doesn’t want you to feel worthless. maybe it has the adverse effect and maybe it’s selfish but he needs you to hear that.

you don’t acknowledge it, and you barely acknowledge him, even as he turns to walk out the door. this time, you’re the one not giving the answer, but sae feels like he knows how you feel anyway. you need time away from him. a proper break from him. so sae leaves wordlessly, clinging on to hope that maybe one day, he’ll be deserving of you again.

the moment sae closes the door, you fall to the floor, wailing into your cushion pillow, having one of the worst nights of your life.

THE NEXT WEEK

annoying jr [10.48am]: oi stupid, i’m here.

—followed by an incessant ringing of your doorbell.

when you groan and swing the front door open, you’re greeted by a smirking rin. at least he hasn’t changed one bit since you’d known him when he was a kid. well, at least not to you.

“did you have to ring it so obnoxiously?” you whine, plopping down on your couch, burying your head in the leather seats.

rin shuts the door behind him, scoffing. “you’re the one who always used to wake up late,” he quips, rolling his eyes (you don’t have to see it, you just know how he’s going to react).

“and someone was always the third party on dates,” you snap back, sticking your tongue out at him.

he deadpans, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “hey, wasn’t my fault my stupid brother kept using me as an excuse to go out.”

right, because back then his parents were a lot more strict than they are now, back before they didn’t know you.

realising that the mood had grown a little somber, rin clears his throat, changing the subject. “how’s work so far?”

you chuckle under your breath, finding it funny how both the brothers’ go-to question is to ask about your work. though, they’ve never been that good in conversations so you can’t blame them.

“it’s fine, promotion period’s coming up so i’m preparing for that,” you respond lacklustrely, getting up off the couch, dragging your feet to your bedroom before resurfacing just ten seconds later, carrying a box full of sae’s things.

it’s full of his clothes, care products and the like, but mostly clothes, because you’d realised you liked to steal his jerseys, wear them like they’re your own, but mostly because they smell like him, remind you of him when he’s not physically around and makes you feel better.

doesn’t make you feel good when you have to pack them up, though. you cried all the way again. pathetically. but rin doesn’t have to know, so you keep up your unbothered facade.

rin takes the box from you, thankfully not mentioning his brother. “hope you get that promotion then,” he says politely, though you sense he might have something else to say that he doesn’t know if he should.

you sigh, because sometimes rin looks like a neglected younger brother and you don’t have the heart to ignore him like sae does sometimes. “go ahead, say what’s on your mind.”

it takes just a moment of hesitation before rin heeds your words. “did you see sae’s interview last night?”

part of you doesn’t want to think about anything related to sae, but most of you still misses him, so it’s a canon event that you still look out for any and every news of him. it’s sad and pathetic and that’s why you make extra care not to mention any of that to anyone.

“nope, was it about their recent win?”

you try to go on as per normal, like sae isn’t just the love of your life that you still wanted.

“mhm.” rin, at least, doesn’t tease you about it. whether he means to or not, you’re grateful for that. “they asked him, though. about that game.” (but of course, you knew that already.)

ah, that game. the game that he abandoned to come find you. the game that led up to your breakup. the game that sae probably had to pay dearly for for knowingly ditching.

“oh, i see. what about it?”

a resigned sigh leaves rin’s lips as he looks at you with the full sincerity of a younger brother concerned with his older brother’s fuckup. “he… really loves you, you know? he’s just… stupid.”

you snort at his last remark, both of you breaking out into a small laughter. it’s bittersweet, thinking about how this might be the last time you see rin, but you’ll probably get over it. you’ll get over this, and sae, and move on someday—now if only you could get yourself to want that.

“i know,” you mutter quietly, deciding that it’s best not to speak too much about it. it’s dumb, considering everything that happened, but his words made you feel relieved, even if just for a second.

just before he leaves, you give him one last hug. “thanks, rin.”

THREE MONTHS LATER

“please don’t give me another heart attack like last time.”

sae huffs, annoyed, although he knows he probably deserves that. his poor assistant went through hell trying to appease everyone on the team due to sae’s last stunt. luckily, there are exceptions made for the best soccer player on the team, so no punishment was dire enough that he had to get kicked.

“i’m just going out for some air.” sae leaves before his assistant can get any words out, entirely too tired today to listen to anything anyone else has to say.

besides, today is a special day.

the moment he’s out of earshot, he calls one of the only contacts on his phone. for some reason, his heart is thumping wildly and his fingers are fiddling with the hem of his windbreaker. the weather is nearing negatives but somehow, he doesn’t feel it.

“hello?”

sae nearly gets a heart attack of his own when a deep, low voice is what he hears, until he realises that he recognises it.

“rin, what’re you doing there?”

he can make out the sadistic chuckle from halfway across the world. “what, disappointed?” (if sae could punch him right now he would.) “relax, we’re just at her birthday dinner and she’s busy,” he explains, though sae doesn’t nearly care about any of that other than the fact that he wants to talk to you.

“where’s y/n?”

“she’s the birthday girl, people are lining up just to take pictures with her,” rin raises his voice over the background, and sae’s never been more frustrated. “she’s taking pics with some handsome guy right now, and he’s got his hands around her waist,” rin whistles right after, and sae can just sense his smugness through the phone.

whether what his brother said was true or not, sae is in no position to be jealous anyway. (even though he is and he’s sporting an unamused frown that’s enough to scare the living daylights out of anyone watching him.)

“wish her happy birthday for me then.”

rin snorts. “sure. disappointed you didn’t get to hear her—” sae hangs up before he can be subjected to anymore of his brother’s nonsense. all he really wanted was to just hear your voice, but he won’t be greedy.

staying friends was already a miracle. that’s only possible because you have a heart of gold, and he knows that if he ever pushes it too much, he might just risk losing you forever and he knows he can’t have that. so for now, this’ll do.

he’ll wait, no matter how long he has to.

later that night, when the moon is high up in spain, sae receives a notification from you. there, attached in your thread is an audio message.

“itoshi sae… thank you.”

the little laugh you leave at the end is enough to make him smile at his phone. he counts his blessings for you, and starts counting down to the days he has left in spain. if he wants you, he needs to go all in.

ONE YEAR LATER

“you ready yet? i’m at your lobby.”

sae can just barely make out your panicked state from the other line. you’re late, and you know he’s fine with waiting, but because you’re a perfectionist, you really really don’t want him to have to.

“yeah, just gimme like, five minutes!” which sae knows translates to i actually need twenty but i’ll rush. there’s a certain satisfaction it gives him—knowing that he knows you in these ways that nobody else can.

“take your time, i have to pump some gas anyway, running low,” he tells you, an excuse which you accept right away because it’s convenient.

sae doesn’t even need any gas. it’s full, so he parks his car by the entrance and waits inside, turning up the air conditioning because he knows you’ll be sweating a little by the time you inevitably still choose to rush down.

it’s exactly one year since the last time he wished you happy birthday (through rin). and this year, he’s happy enough he gets to actually take you out. the past year’s been filled of sae restarting the relationship from ground zero—back to being friends and gradually coming back again to where you are now, dating. sure, it’s taxing having to do it all over again, but he’d do this however many times you want him to.

SIX MONTHS AGO

“hmmm, i dunno how to feel, i kinda like this.”

sae had been calling you up often, and he feels good inside knowing that you might miss him as much as he misses you.

“kinda like what?” he asked, wishing that he could see your expression right now.

“kinda like you chasing me all over again,” you giggled, shameless with your words. “what if i just never agree to be your girlfriend again? what if i just make you chase after me forever?”

he knew for a fact that you weren’t that sadistic, but even so, his answer would still be the same. “then i’ll stick in this phase with you. forever.” although that would render the ring that he bought for you useless.

“oh really?”

sae hummed in faux contemplation. “nah, maybe not. maybe i’ll just ditch you and run off with ryusei or something.”

he got a laugh out of you for that.

“ryusei? not even some other girl, but ryusei?”

sae chuckled—he still remembered his mistake. and he’d never put you in a position to feel that way again. even if you two were just joking around.

“y/n, there’s no one else except you.” he was rarely ever serious like this, especially considering how you bantered as friends, but sometimes, he knew he had to. nowadays, more than anything, he just wanted to know that you had no doubts about how he felt for you.

you didn’t give any response to that, but considering how you started to ease up around him even more after that, sae felt like maybe there was a solid hope there of reviving this after all.

the knock on his window brings him back into the present, your pretty face doing wonders in lighting up his mood.

as you get into the passenger seat, sae steals a glance at you from head to toe—you’re so beautiful and so worth the wait and you’ll always be.

“so, where are you taking me today, mr itoshi sae?”

he leans back against his seat, tilting his head as he looks at you, feigning contemplation. “depends, ms l/n y/n, do you trust me?”

you press your lips into a line, the corners threatening to tug upwards. you’re so adorable that sae’s actually going to go insane but he dons a straight face like he always has because letting you know the power you have over him is more than you need to know.

“i think it’d be a little weird if i couldn’t trust my boyfriend.”

suddenly it’s like time stands still and sae’s hands are stuck on the steering wheel and he’s left staring into space wondering if he heard you right. boyfriend? he turns around to look at you, teal eyes searching your own for answers but all he sees is a smirk on your face—you definitely know the power you have over him.

“wow, want me that bad, huh?” you joke, giggling as you tell him to hit the gas. “i… wasn’t kidding though.”

and as he pulls out of the parking lot, he thinks about the little velvet box that sits in his jacket pocket, thinks about the fact that he’s one of the luckiest people in the world thanks to you. heat rises to his cheeks, and he has to look away from you.

“you know one day you’re still gonna be mrs itoshi, right?”

this time, you laugh—but not like you think it’s a joke, more like the kind where you think was there even any other option? and even then, you offer him assurance.

“there’s nothing i want more.”

[m0llygunn]

the alligator and the weirdo (eddie munson x fem!reader)

eddie shares some of his imaginative thoughts that he has during intimate moments

cw: 18+! mature language, smut, oral (f receiving), eddie being an absolute weirdo (affectionate) an: i was reading comments on an ig post months ago and there were so many guys who were talking about the alligator thing so yeah thanks random instagram guys for this idea wc: 2.2k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Wanna hear something that you’ll hate?” 

Turning your head, you look at Eddie laying the short distance away from you in the bed. The rubix cube that was keeping him busy has been tossed to the side and he smiles toothily at you, brows wiggling as he awaits your answer. Bad news— abort immediately.  

“No,” you answer flatly. You move your book to block his view of you but he quickly tugs it away, tucking it under his arm. 

“Well, apple of my eye, love of my life,” he starts, smiling wider than ever. You don't even bother trying to get your book back, you know it's no use. Mawkishly corny, he takes your hand, pressing his lips to the back of it and you know whatever he's about to say is going to be awful with the way he's working up to it. He looks up at you, “Today is your lucky day, because I’m going to tell you anyway,” he finishes. 

“Is it actually something I’m going to hate?” you sigh.

“Yes,” he smiles, thumb rubbing back and forth on your hand that he continues to hold, keeping it hostage in his grip.

You pause, desperately trying to read him. He doesn’t give much away, just that he’s up to no good. 

Unsure and honestly afraid, you tilt your head, “but is it going to piss me off?” you ask, needing a sincere answer. 

“You won’t be angry, per se” he replies, voice pitching up with his dramatics.

“Then why would I hate it?” you retort. 

He shrugs so boyishly you almost forget to keep up your attitude. “You’re just going to hate it,” he sings matter of factly. 

“Eddie,” you whine. He squeezes your hand to his chest, rolling his eyes at you playfully. 

Tonight was supposed to be a relaxing night, he promised you that. It was supposed to be quiet and chill– you were going to read, and he was going to… do something? Anything that he could do quietly. Obviously, he's changed his mind and has now resorted to teasing you. 

“Fine, fine, you got me— I’ll tell you,” he huffs as if you’ve threatened him. Dramatic, dramatic, dramatic.  

Speaking of dramatic, you swat him lightly for his antics, smacking your free hand to his chest and he overreacts, throwing his head back into the pillow with a pained howl. His face, scrunched up in faux pain, quickly changes to a desperate plea, eyes wide and brows turning up. 

“No! Please, I already said I’d tell you. Please, no need for violence— I’ll tell you!” he rushes out, putting his hands together in a prayer to you. With a shake of your head, disapproving his boisterous behaviour, you hold back your smile by biting your lip. 

“I’m going home,” you threaten. With your hand free from his grasp seeing as he has resorted to pleaing prayers, you move to roll over him to get off the bed. 

“No, you can’t!” he reacts quickly, grabbing both your wrists and pulling them to his chest, keeping you pulled taut against him. “You can’t go, I haven’t told you yet.”

“So spit it out,” you whine. 

“Fine,” he huffs with a played up annoyance. He rolls his eyes and you purse your lips in disbelief. Disbelief for the moment, disbelief for the mood he's in. 

“Just sit here, and I’ll tell you, okay?” he smirks, dropping his grasp on your wrists but quickly grabbing your legs, pulling at you until your knees bracket his hips and you’re straddling him. You don't resist, figuring that if it truly is something you hate, you'll have the extra leverage to throw yourself off the bed and book it out of his room. 

Shooting him a quick warning look, he finally gets to telling you his oh-so-anticipated thought. 

“So,” he begins. “You know when I’m eating you out?”

Blinking your eyes slowly, you resist throwing yourself off the bed already. Definitely not the direction you thought this was going in.

Eddie smiles up at you, waiting for your answer. 

“Yes, I think I’m quite familiar with that, thank you,” you respond, keeping your voice purposefully flat. 

“Well, you know when I’m eating you out and I’m just doing such a good job that you can’t stay still?”

“Eddie,” you laugh. He raises his brows, awaiting your answer yet again to continue. “Yes. Yes, I am also quite familiar with that.”

“And when you can’t stay still, I hold your hips?”

“Eddie, I swear to god you better spit it out,” you huff, trying to hold back your laugh as you smack a flat palm to his chest again. He grins at you, eyes excited and filled with amusement. 

“So, I’m eating you out, holding your hips, and then you’re still squirming around everywhere so I’m like, wrestling you?”

“You’re not wrestling me,” you laugh.

“But I am,” he smiles, raising a brow at you. 

“You’re not… you’re just holding me,” you offer abashedly. He shakes his head with verve, and you nod your own head contradictingly. With a small wave of his hand, he continues. 

“Well, just wait for the next part,” he smiles. “So I’m wrestling you, and then your legs start closing around my head—”

“Okay.” you interrupt. “I think that’s enough,” you say, feeling your cheeks start to heat up from his brashness. Obviously you know how the whole event goes, you don't need him to break it down for you in a play by play. 

“No, I’m finally getting to it!” he laughs, hands squeezing at your hips. 

You flash him a forced annoyed glare, prompting him to continue with a lift of your brows. He dips his head in a nod, smirking, and he finally delivers his punchline, words dripped in glee and an air of proudness. 

“Whenever your legs start squeezing my head, sometimes I pretend I’m holding open the jaws of an alligator.”

“What?” you scoff, eyes narrowing in confusion. Surely you heard him wrong. 

“It’s true,” he nods matter-of-factly. “I imagine a big ol’ alligator trying to clamp my head in it’s jaw, and I’m fighting for my life, trying to hold its mouth open,” he repeats, holding his arms out wide, energetically miming the struggle of keeping an alligator's jaw open. 

So you didn't hear him wrong?

That’s what he’s thinking about when he’s giving you head? 

Mortifying. Shocking. Not surprising— it is Eddie after all. 

He finds your right hand, laying it down flat to his chest, pressing it firmly with both his hands overtop of it. Grounding you to him— nope— making sure you don’t leave is more like it.

“You’re strong, you know that?” he says with wide eyes. “You prance around here, needing me to open jars, and carry your bags, but I swear to god you’re stronger than me. Super-strength,” he says with a wiggle of his brows. 

“You… you are so…” You’re at a loss of words. All you can do is shake your head, and feel your mouth go dry as you stare at him, astonished that this is what he decided to tell you. Never in a million years would you have guessed that’s what he’s thinking.

He opens his mouth and it only gets worse. “Sometimes I pretend it’s a bear trap too,” he adds.

“Stop.”

“Or it’s like Excalibur. You know Excalibur don't you? Its like I’m King Arthur and keeping your legs open is like I’m pulling the sword from the stone—”

“Stop,” you say with a more bewildered urgency, pressing your palm to his mouth. You feel his lips curl into a smile, crows feet deepening as he looks at you, eyes squinting with his amusement. 

He mumbles something under your hand but you can’t make it out— you don’t want to make it out. 

“Weird. You’re weird. You’re so weird.” you finally spit out through your shock. He licks your palm and you pull away with a repulsed squeal, wiping the dampness onto his shirt. 

“I make you cum, don’t I?” he asks, smug as ever. 

“But why are you thinking of that while you’re doing it?” you ask, riddled with mystified shock. 

“I don’t know… just kind of thought of it one day and went with it,” he shrugs. “It’s kind of good though– distracts me from blowing my load before I’ve even got it in.”

With heavy blinks, you give yourself a minute to absorb what he’s just told you. Closing your gaping mouth, you swallow back your bafflement. This was supposed to be a relaxing night– not Eddie baring his weird soul night. 

“Well… you were right, I hate it.”

“You love it,” he grins. 

“Hate it,” you emphasize. 

“Oh, but you love me, don’t you?” he retorts with his un-wipeable grin.

“We’re getting divorced.”

“Is this you saying you wanna get married? ‘cause we gotta get married first if you want a divorce,” he smirks, grabbing at your sides, tickling you. Taking his hands in your grasp, you stop him before he can really get started with the tickling, pushing his hands away and returning them to his chest with your so-called ‘super-strength’.

“I’m giving you two choices Munson– you take me home right now, or we stop talking about this,” you say with the best sternness you can muster. Oh to be reading your book peacefully, cuddling in the quietness of the room that was once promised to you. 

He doesn't like your ultimatum, you can tell right away with the way his face drops. 

“But you were gonna stay the night,” he pouts, purposefully over-jetting out his lower lip.

“Yeah and I want to stay the night,” you respond, tilting your head at him. 

“So stay the night,” he nearly whines. Like a punishment, you let him sit in his pout for an extra moment. You could hope that he's thinking over where this all went wrong, but you know he's not. Under all that pout he's still smug as hell, it's in his nature. 

“Are you going to keep talking about your weirdo imagination?” you finally break the silence.

“I thought you liked my imagination?” he says, lower lip pushing out even further, trembling slightly as he continues his overdramatic pouting, his eyes round with an innocence that he could never possess.  

“I do,” you promise. “But not when it’s working overtime while you're going down on me. I’m not an alligator or a bear trap… or some magical sword and stone— Eddie literally who thinks of that?” you can’t help but smile, shaking your head with a regrettable mirth. 

“See, I’m funny. You’re laughing.” Smug.

“You’re weird.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Later that night…

His tongue flits back and forth, sending shock waves of pleasure through your system. 

“You like that?” he hums against you. 

“G-good. Really good,” you reply through huffed breaths. Your stomach tenses, breaths staggering as you feel your impending orgasm approaching. 

You stayed the night, no surprise to you or Eddie. One thing led to another, and hours later, your earlier conversation long forgotten, Eddie was between your thighs, racking pleasure throughout your whole body with his tongue on your clit.

His fingers pushed deep inside of you, massage upwards, stroking against your walls, rubbing perfectly at that euphoria inducing spot— you can’t take it, it feels too good, too much. 

Your hands, weaved into his hair, resort to an odd combination of pushing him away and pulling him forward. Running from the pleasure but chasing it at the same time. 

His lips seal over your clit, sucking, mimicking the throb that trembles through your body. You go ridgid, sliding over your tipping point. Your legs tense, closing inwards as your body gives in to instinct, not having a single thought in your brain at the moment. Every muscle tenses harshly before your spasm begins, limbs shaking and moving all at their own accord.

Hips stuttering, jolting back and forth with your release, a heavy hand closes around your thigh, pinning it to the bed.

“The alligator! She’s back,” Eddie exclaims but you have less than a microbe of steady consciousness to parse his words properly. His fingers continue wiggling inside of you, thumb moving itself to your clit as he continues busying his mouth with his ramblings that you’re too foggy headed to understand. You think for a moment there might have been a pirate impression with an argh, but that can't be right. 

A deep, sputtering inhale, your lungs fill, clearing your lust filled brain. His movements slow, and your body relaxes little by little, melding into the mattress until you’re just a puddle of a person. 

“And that’s another win for me,” Eddie announces smugly.

“Hm?” you hum, still in a daze.

“I defeated the alligator— yet again.” he says boisterously.

You blink your eyes open to see Eddie smirking from cheek to arousal glistening cheek. At first, what he said doesn’t make sense, but then it all clicks.

An absolute loss of words. You’ve never been so dumbfounded to not have a single word— not even earlier when he first brought up his colorful, unusual thoughts. Never. 

Eddie recognizes this because he lets himself fall to your side, pulling you into him, maneuvering you like a rag doll until you're halfways on his chest, face to face, wrapping his arm around your waist.  

“You know I’m funny,” he teases, stealing a kiss from you. He pulls back, looking beyond pleased with himself. “You love me,” he sings with a cheesy grin, pressing another kiss to your lips.

Full of mortification and disconcertment, your love for him is undeniable. You love him through and through, and unfortunately that includes his inopportune imagination. 

“I’m in love with an absolute weirdo,” you confess. 

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ty for reading!