#trigging warnings
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shatteredpaths · 1 year ago
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This project is home to many themes that aren’t the most faint of heart and triggering to some. Proceed with caution and only handle what you can.
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Abuse (Physical, Emotional, Physiological, Domestic, Familial, Neglect)
Murder (both adult and child)
Child Abuse
Politics
Miscarriage
Famine
Graphic depictions of violence and death.
Bullying
Fire
Drugs
Pedophilia/Grooming (not graphic, only mentioned, and not treated as acceptable)
Depictions of Trauma and Mental Illness
Torture (of adult and child)
Harrasment
Cheating
Xenophobia
Specism/Racism 
Pregnancy (as well as trans pregnancy)
Queerphobia (transphobia, homophobia, enbyphobia, acephobia, arophobia)
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dragonairice · 2 years ago
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I’m curious
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feisaru · 2 years ago
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I really wanna settle on a name for people to call me actually but I'm so unsure. That would also influence my talking tag, because maybe then I'd finally make myself one... but like because of my trashfire brain it's so hard to settle on anything.
I'm okay with my given name. The connotations of it fit me. But sometimes it still makes me feel as though I'm being treated with distance. The short form is okay too, that's what my people on insta have agreed to call me. But sometimes it goes on my nerves because of how cutesy it is.
Then there's Zefyrinus, which I'd probably just shorten to Zef. That's the name I chose for myself for my confirmation. Choosing it made me feel powerful because it defied their expectations
Then there's Cain... it really resonates with me but I first conciously registered the name through a webcomic character. Which makes me a bit embarrassed about using it.
Simon or some variation of it would be possible as well, or something like Nathaniel.
Shiny... one of my oldest nicks, because of how I used to do shiny hunting as a hobby, and it's becoming increasingly harder for me to hear because there's so many bad memories attached to it and more are added to the pile with each passing day. It's gonna stay with me, but unless I change my mind I don't want people to call me that anymore.
There's also the possibilty of using Saru as a name, but the question is, do I REALLY want that...
This is all. In conclusion I don't think I'm settling this dilemma any time soon. Maybe getting called Feisaru is good enough after all
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adhdaxolotl · 2 years ago
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Republicans who complain about there being too many identities need to turn that energy away from queer people (humans just living) and towards trigonometry (evil, wicked)
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sutorus · 2 years ago
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✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS
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DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe
FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!
A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys
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GOJO SATORU
has way too many hoes. way too many
so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”
has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper
says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it
throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you
takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad
pays for your ubers everywhere every time
into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed
lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further
very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d
gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something
fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!
GETO SUGURU
keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience
too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck
even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble
answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers
he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(
cleans you up after sex and brings you water
has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag
lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you
never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy
genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky
in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are
not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you
likes to make you cum over and over and over again
fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it
NANAMI KENTO
a professional in every sense of the word
uses sex as stress relief
thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you
invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up
can actually have very nice conversations with you
never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship
lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics
does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”
texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is
gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to
eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you
the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot
has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings
fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right
FUSHIGURO TOJI
broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him
absolutely nasty sex
you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you
dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom
wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity
eats his cum right out of you
ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles
loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep
doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics
has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why
has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after
no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit
loves it if you cry on his dick
doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own
has never told you his last name
one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes
fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much
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a/n sorry
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Sweet Like Wine
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Your monthly bleed is over—just in time for you and Astarion to find yourselves with a bit of alone time. You might not be able to feed your vampire as easily, but there's another hunger for the two of you to satiate.
Word Count: 9,154 words of filth
Warnings: sexual content (18+), soft Astarion, vulnerable Astarion, slightly insecure Astarion, mention of past sexual trauma, pet names, Astarion still doesn't realize he's loved for more than his body,
18+ Warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, oral (f receiving, m receiving), touching over clothes, naked grinding, bite kink, blood kink, soft sex, creampie, aftercare, use of the words pussy, dick, cunt & cock, mentions of reader's period
Burns Like Rum (part 1) found {here}
Epilogue Cherry Blush coming soon!
Note: Thank you for all the love on the first part! I'm glad everyone loved it! Here's the second part :)
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Rain was coming. You had smelled it on the air for several days now, an altogether pleasant scent that reminded you of fast-flowing rivers in a pine forest, distinctly earthy and cold.
The first day you'd smelled it, so had Astarion, stopping every few seconds to sneeze and then complain about his heightened sense of smell being trigged by weather.
You had taken to sleeping in Astarion’s tent with him over the past few days, enjoying each other’s company while you waited for your period to end. He was enjoying getting fed nightly, and you were enjoying learning about him after he gave you the night of your life.
Well, enjoying was perhaps not the right word for your experience. You were glad he trusted you enough to tell you about the things Cazador had made him do. You were grateful he felt safe enough to be vulnerable with you. But your heart broke every time he told you a little more, his voice low and tired and broken, reciting his past like it was a crime he was ready to be locked up for. And, by gods, how your hatred for Cazador grew.
It wasn’t like you had ever liked the thought of Astarion’s vampiric master. Anyone who had killed this man (who you weren’t quite sure how you felt about but knew you cared for more than anyone else you’d ever known) was evil in your book. But Cazador... Cazador made devils look like saints in your eyes.
You packed up the last remnants of your camp the morning after Astarion had whispered to you about his year encased in stone, slight trembles in his body and growing more violent the longer he'd talked. You'd held him close that night, holding his hand and sliding your fingers through his hair to comfort him. But now you were brooding in the weak morning sun, contemplating which way you'd most like to kill Cazador.
Not that you would—that right was Astarion's, should he wish it. If the time came and he decided he couldn't do it alone, well, then you'd employ one of your many planned strategies to make that bastard suffer for everything he'd done to Astarion and his siblings.
You had decided last night to move on from the place you'd been camped for over a week. You'd been there too long; people had begun to stumble upon your tents, and it was only a matter of time before someone realized Astarion was a vampire or that Gale had a weapon in his chest and decided to try and kill them.
Wyll had gone scouting last night before the sun had set and had reported a town in the distance—near enough to reach before sunset, but only if you got moving as soon as dawn broke. So, you got up early, woke up your grouchy companions, and started breaking down camp. You were on the road less than an hour later.
You walked beside Astarion, both of you weighed down by your packs, your hands swinging beside each other. The backs of your hands kept brushing. You were so distracted by it and the thought that maybe, just maybe, you would take his hand the next time they brushed, that you didn't notice the others watching.
A twinge in your side made you hiss and bring your other arm to it, on the place of an old scar. The pain was a familiar, soft throb—a telling sign that the storm you'd been smelling was getting closer.
"Is your wound still alright?" Shadowheart asked you, shocking you out of your mind, and gesturing to your abdomen. The gash had healed up nicely, little more than some light, pale scarring now, but the phantom pains lingered. They struck at random and had become a cause of concern amongst the entire camp.
You nodded. "It's fine. I haven't felt anything yet. It's just...old wounds acting up."
"Let me know if you need anything," she said, which was a phrase you'd heard at least three times a day since the day you'd gotten the wound. This time, though, she sounded even more worried than normal.
You supposed she had more than enough reason to be worried—this was the first time you'd done this much moving since you'd been injured. You hadn't had to travel or hunt since then, and even your nights with Astarion between your legs kept you on your back with your calves thrown over his shoulders.
Not that Shadowheart knew that, exactly, but she had extracted a promise out of him not to let you do anything that might reopen the wound, which also meant Astarion had refused to let you take him in your mouth, afraid that such a position would be too much for you.
"I'm okay," you promised her, trying to keep the exasperation out of your voice.
You must have failed at doing so, because Astarion whispered a moment later, "She's just trying to keep you safe."
You deflated a little. "I...I know. I'm just...tired of being treated like a glass doll. I'm healed. I can handle myself."
"I know, she's just worried... We're all worried," he added, and you knew that 'we' included himself, a recent development when it came to any kind of emotion.
"I'll be okay," you promised.
"You better be," he said, finally taking your hand in his. Giddiness spread through you like wildfire. Astarion smiled at you and you got the feeling he knew you'd been dying for that to happen. "You're too cute to die on me now."
You rolled your eyes. "Well, I'll try my best."
Astarion looked at you with a fondness that had recently appeared in his eyes; it was a look you loved, one that made your entire body grow warm every time you caught him looking at you like that. You leaned into his side, letting him kiss the top of your head gently. You smiled up at him, ready to thank him for the open display of intimacy.
And then something in his eyes changed, a sparkle in the crimson. A smile twitched on his lips. For a moment, it looked like he might say something—only for his gaze to slide to the others, walking just ahead of you as if they knew to give you privacy. The sparkle to fizzled out.
"What is it?" you asked quietly.
"Walk faster, friends!" Gale called back to you. "The clouds aren't promising, that storm you've been complaining about will be upon us soon!"
"Later," Astarion said to you. "I'll tell you later."
He squeezed your hand and quickened his pace to catch up with the rest of your companions.
~❊~
Mercifully, the long day of traveling wasn't made longer—or more painful—by a fight of any kind, only by the miserable weather. Halfway through the day, the rain had begun in the form of slow, fat raindrops. By now, it was coming down fast and hard, almost painful when it hit your body, even with your many layers of clothing.
Wyll's estimation had been a little generous; the sun, though you couldn't see it, had already set by the time you got close enough to see windows in the buildings of the town, almost every one with a candle glowing on the windowsill.
"Isn't that just quaint," Astarion murmured as the muddy river of a dirt road beneath your feet slowly transitioned into cobblestones covered in at least an inch of water. "Gods, I hope this place has a good tavern."
"I hope it has an open inn," you said. "Everything hurts."
"Your wound?" he asked, frowning and automatically putting a hand on your abdomen.
You shook your head. "No—that's fine. Just my muscles are killing me from all this walking, and old injuries are acting up. It's the storm, I knew it was coming."
Lae'zel frowned. "Are you capable of sensing the weather? Why haven't you used this trick before?"
Shadowheart giggled behind her hand and got control of herself only when the gith's head snapped toward her.
You blinked. "It— I'm not actually able to do that, Lae. It's just that old wounds ache before storms. Lots of people have that. It's...kind of an old wives' tale, I guess?"
"She was right, though," Gale said, squinting up at the sky. His hood fell from his head. "The storm came when she thought it would."
Astarion sidled closer to you, smirking, and curled a hand around your waist. Under his breath, he teased, "Perhaps I...kept you awake too late last night, didn't I? Feeling a little soreness between those lovely legs?"
You rolled your eyes but leaned into his touch. "Don't you start."
The group walked further down the main thoroughfare, slowly spreading across the street, each one looking up at the signs on the buildings. Almost everything was closed: a few tailors' shops, a perfumery, an outdoor food market with empty vendor stalls.
Music drifted from one of the few open storefronts. Warm golden light spilled out onto the cobblestone street through the windows. Raucous laughter joined the jaunty sound of a bard's music. Inside, you could see tables packed with patrons, all singing in various states of drunkenness—and all safe from the storm outside.
Wyll gestured forward. "There's your tavern, Astarion."
Astarion grinned, his fangs flashing in the low light. "Who's up for a drink?"
"Maybe later," you said.
Pointedly, Wyll added, "Once we find an inn and rooms for the night. I'd rather not make camp out here in this damp."
"What, the Blade of Frontier's doesn't know how to rough it through bad weather?" Astarion teased.
"Stop taunting him and let's find an inn," you said, nudging him gently. "I just...want to go to bed, really."
"Alright," Astarion said, that sparkle back in his eyes again. "A good, long night's rest it is, then."
You moved further down the street. Karlach spotted the inn a few doors down and the group filed in through the door, just as thunder clapped overhead. You dragged Astarion into the building with you just before the rain could get worse. The clerk at the desk looked a bit annoyed to see you.
"We don't have enough rooms for all of you," they said, counting the seven of you.
Karlach pulled a face. Before she could say something accidentally indelicate, you pushed to the front of the group.
"How many rooms do you have available?"
"Just three," they said after a quick glance down at the open guestbook in front of them. "And they're not all next to each other."
You glanced back at the others.
"We could take two," Gale suggested. "Split us the old-fashioned way of ladies in one and us gents in another?"
Automatically, your gaze slid to Astarion; both of you appeared to have deflated at the idea of being separated. Wyll, of course, noticed.
"We'll take three and give the third to the lovebirds," he said, teasingly nudging his elbow into Astarion's side. "I don't think I have the heart to separate them."
"I find it agreeable," Lae'zel said with a decisive nod. She turned back to the clerk. "We'll take all three."
"It'll cost you," the clerk warned.
Astarion pulled out a money purse—no doubt stolen the last time you visited a merchant. "We can pay," he promised with that charismatic grin of his that made your stomach do flips.
He moved to the desk, sneakily grabbing your ass and squeezing as he walked by, and counted out the coins for the clerk. They counted it again and stood up only when they were satisfied.
"Come with me," they said. "I'll show you to your rooms."
~❊~
After saying goodnight to the others, escaping their teasing about keeping it down in the night for the sake of your poor neighbors, Astarion held open the door to your room to you. You got inside and glanced around; as far as rooms went, it wasn't awful. It was sparsely furnished and a tad cold, but there was a recently lit hearth and plenty of blankets on the beds. It was on the uppermost floor and you could hear the rain pounding on the roof, a brutal sound that made you agree with Wyll's earlier sentiment about staying out of the weather.
Both of you took off your soaked cloaks and hung them on the hooks next to the door to dry off. You set your stuff down on the ground, pulled the blankets off of one of the beds, and dropped them onto the other.
"Sharing a bed, are we?" Astarion asked with a little giggle, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into the back of your neck.
"Don't act like you don't want to," you said and leaned back into his chest. "I know you, Astari."
He hummed happily into your neck. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed the place where your neck and shoulder met. The nickname always made him happy, often bringing a pleasant blush to his cheeks after he'd fed.
If you had reached that point yet, this would have been the perfect time to say "I love you" and turn to kiss him over your shoulder. But you hadn't said it yet, and he hadn't said it, and you knew it wasn't time yet. You didn't know much, but you knew Astarion wasn't ready for that just yet.
You relaxed into his arms even more, practically melting against him. He planted soft, dainty kisses on your neck and shoulder. "What were you gonna tell me earlier? You had this look in your eye, like you were really excited."
Astarion's grin was audible in his tone as he whispered in your ear, "Your period's gone."
You frowned. "How do you know that and I don't?"
"Your scent's changing. I smelled it this morning, a weak scent of your menstrual blood, nearly gone. We've been traveling so you haven't been able to check recently, but once we got to the town I knew it was gone."
You shook your head. "Smell alone and you already know me better than I know myself."
Astarion scoffed. "Smell alone? Darling, I know your body better than anyone after this past week." His hand drifted down and slid between your legs, cupping you gently. Instantly, warmth flooded you and pooled in your cunt. "I know your shape...your taste...your smell..." He kissed your neck, pressing down on your clit through your clothes. You whimpered lightly. "I know exactly how to make you moan for me and I know what every moan means."
With every ounce of self-restraint you possessed, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Let's get settled in first, Astari. I need to get out of these wet clothes and I really should wash the grime and rain off me before we do anything and—" You stopped suddenly and turned in his arms, resting your hands on his biceps. "I don't have my period anymore."
Astarion blinked at you. "Why do you sound so sad? You've been in pain for the past week! Shouldn't you be glad it's gone?"
"Well, I suppose," you said, shrugging. You toyed with his collar, playing with the fabric between your fingers. "But I...I can't..." You sighed. "You can't feed from me."
His face softened. He gently took hold of your neck, brushing his thumb over the place he usually drank from. "Of course I can still feed from you... It just...takes a bigger tole on you now. Ah." He paused. "I see what you mean now."
You nodded. "It's back to being bloodless, and our fun's done."
Astarion chuckled deeply. "Oh, is that what you're sad about? No more loving little kisses between your legs from your vampire?" He wrapped his hands around your hips, squeezing them and pulling you flush to his body. "We can have a different kind of fun, my love, and it doesn't take your period to convince me to eat you out."
You heard him dimly, but didn't process anything after— "My vampire?"
Something in his face changed. A little bit of the light in his eyes seemed to fade. After a moment, he turned his face away. His body tensed in your arms. "Well, I...I thought that.... M-maybe after..."
You cupped his cheeks and turned him back to you. You kissed him softly, wanting to chase away every ounce of the self-doubt on his face. "I like the sound of that, Astarion." You brought a hand down to clasp his. "As long as I get to be yours, too."
"Darling," he murmured against your lips, seconds before kissing you again. His tongue pressed against your lips and you opened them to let him in. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he moaned softly into your mouth. His relief at your answer slowly relaxed his muscles and made his kiss incredibly tender. You returned his quiet moan with a soft, content sigh into his mouth.
When the kiss broke a few moments later, though it felt like an eternity, you immediately laid your head against Astarion's chest, hugging him tightly. He smoothed his hand over your hair, holding you close to him. He kissed the top of your head in a way that seemed almost domestic for him.
You closed your eyes, settling against his chest. The smell of him and the feel of his body against yours and his hand in your hair was enough to nearly lull you to sleep. And yet...
"I'm in wet clothes, and I'm very tired of being wet—unless it's you making me wet," you said, only half-aware of what you had said until you felt Astarion giggle into your hair.
"You're right, we should change and clean up," he said quietly, though he seemed just as reluctant as you to let go. "Then we can have our fun...and you can get all of me, like I promised you a week ago."
You hummed. "Gods, I'm looking forward to that."
"See? It's not all bad that you're not bleeding anymore," he teased, kissing your cheek.
You finally separated. Astarion dug through his pack until he found his usual shirt and pants. He closed the window's curtains and then you stripped where you stood, peeling the wet clothes off your skin. You walked over to the washroom, aware of Astarion's appreciative gaze on you, and scrubbed the dirt off your skin. You dried yourself off and Astarion joined you. It felt strange to watch your own reflection in the mirror but not see him standing next to you, even though you knew he was next to you, staring at you as he was apt to do.
You kissed his cheek and let your hand rest on his hip as you walked back toward the beds. You bent to rummage through your pack, only for his arms to circle your waist and pull you back up against his chest.
"Oh, darling, you're not going to need clothes for what I have planned," he murmured in your ear. He gently teased the shell of your ear with his teeth. You shuddered in his arms.
"Just jumping straight into it, huh?" you teased.
"I never waste time when I could be spending it with you," he breathed, letting one hand come up to cup your breast. You stumbled backward, sighing contentedly. "You like that, don't you?"
You whimpered. "More... Please darling, I..."
He chuckled and cupped both breasts in his hands. He squeezed them lightly and rested his head on your shoulder, looking down at your cleavage. "Hells, I love these tits, darling. So soft, like all your skin. So sensitive to my touch..."
Astarion began thumbing at your nipples. They perked up at his touch. He rolled them between his fingers, kissing your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. You whimpered under his touch.
"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" he asked, squeezing your tits a little harder. He massaged them in his hands, contentedly watching from his perch on your shoulder.
You nodded, leaning your head against his. After a moment, you asked, breathless but still forming words, "Can you suck on them?"
He moved around to the front of you, grinning happily. "Of course I can, darling." He gently sat you down on the bed's edge and kneeled before you, a beautiful sight. He spread your legs to sit between them and get as close to you as possible, glancing down at your exposed cunt as he did. "Gods, I can't wait to be inside you," he muttered, just seconds before he took one of your nipples in his mouth.
Astarion's mouth was an absolutely wonderful thing. You'd figured that out the first night and for the subsequent week that he was skilled with his lips and tongue, far more skilled than his kisses let on. His mouth around your breast was heavenly as he sucked on your nipple, lightly at first and then slowly adding pressure. You'd be lucky if your tits weren't bruised come morning. His other hand held your breast, kneading your flesh, rolling your nipple in his fingers. The coolness of the skin of his fingers was a relief against your hot skin.
He moaned as he suckled on you. He flicked his tongue over your nipple and then kissed the fat of your breast. You brought your hand up to his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails, and he moaned loudly. You whimpered as his sucking grew to be almost too much. He understood your sound and switched breasts, licking and kissing the one he'd just been groping.
You stared down at the beautiful man happily sucking on your tits: his eyes closed and his long lashes fluttering every so often, his pretty lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking your breast into the heat of his mouth. You carded your fingers through his hair, delighting in the way it curled around your fingers and around his ears.
A sudden idea had you moving your hand down to his ear. You touched it gently and he moaned loudly. You giggled and began lightly caressing his ear. His moans turned into whimpers as you neared the pointed tip. At last he popped off your breast and his head fell against your stomach.
"Oh, gods, darling," he whined. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, that feels... Ohhh, that feels wonderful."
His little moan brought a rush of wetness to your core. You kept playing with his hair, hoping to draw another one of those weak whimpers out of him.
Astarion shuddered into your touch. He was panting heavily and moved shakily, but he still managed to get his hand between your legs. He slid two fingers inside of you with ease.
"Ohhh, sweet girl, you're so wet for me," he breathed. "Can I—?"
"Yes, please," you gasped, knowing instantly what he wanted to do. Your fingers left his ear and he ducked his head between your legs. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit. "More."
Astarion chuckled into your pussy. "Patience, dear." He began to suckle on your clit, the pressure alone enough to make you see stars. Then his tongue flicked over you in the way he'd learned you licked and you fell back against the bed, arching into his mouth. His hands came up to grip your hips and pull you closer to him.
He moved lower and pushed his tongue into your entrance. The two of you moaned in tandem and Astarion's fingers dug into your hip, hard enough to leave bruises come morning.
The sounds of Astarion's slurping became obscene, but you couldn't find it in you to be embarrassed. You only moaned louder as his nose bumped your clit.
Without warning, Astarion slipped his fingers back inside you. You arched into his touch, gasping as his fingers curled inside you.
"Astarion!" you groaned, grinding down on his face and fingers. He chuckled into you.
"That's it, my love, you're close," he murmured, staring into you and watching your walls clench around his fingers. "Just let go for me, you're almost there."
You moaned, writhing as he went back to sucking on your clit. His fingers found the right spot and you covered your mouth with a hand to muffle the near-scream that came out of you—a sound you had no idea you could even make.
"No, no, no," Astarion chided, fixing you with a look. "Don't you muffle those sounds. I want to hear you scream for me, darling."
You whimpered. You panted as your orgasm slowly crept up on you. Your hips stuttered and lifted off the bed—Astarion took advantage and slipped his arm underneath you, dragging you back to him and pressing his mouth back to your clit. He kissed it gingerly, occasionally flicking his tongue over it in the circles you liked so much. Sometimes it amazed you how well he remembered your body and your likes, even if you'd only told him once.
"Astari," you whined, the tight ball in your core very close to snapping.
"I've got you," he whispered. "Come on, sweet girl, it's alright. Cum for me. Cum on my face, darling. I want it. I want to taste you. That's it, that's it, that's it!"
You finished with a loud cry, your back arching, Astarion moaning into your cunt and his tongue lapping quickly to catch every drop of your release. He kept curling his fingers even as your walls tightened to the point of being difficult to move them.
Astarion leaned back, grinning up at you. His face shone; it was almost weird not to see blood on his face. He looked back down at your pussy, staring eagerly, licking your cum off of his lips. "You're so wet, darling. Gods, you'll be a tight fit, but I could slide in right now if I wanted to..."
You nodded very quickly, whimpering. "Please, Astarion, please, I want you to."
He raised an elegant brow at you. "Oh, do you, now?" You nodded, whining. "Say it, darling."
Your body twisted in a way that seemed impossible as you said, a tremendous blush on your face which you were trying to hide in the bed, "I want you to fuck me, Astarion."
He grinned toothily, his fangs shining. A deep sound that neared a growl emanated from his chest. "Again. Say it again, louder."
"Fuck me, Astari," you whined, a little louder than the first time.
Something in Astarion snapped. He pulled you back onto your feet and flush to his body, kissing you fiercely. It was almost harsh, his fangs nicking your lips. You hissed and Astarion pulled back. The desire—a mix of bloodlust and arousal—was clear in his eyes, but he paused to ask, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine," you promised. "It's not like you haven't nicked me in more sensitive places."
"And you like it, every time," he teased, briefly kissing your forehead. He wiped away a small dot of blood on your lips with his thumb and licked it off.
You smiled at him. "What can I say, you've given me quite the biting kink."
Astarion chuckled. "Cheeky little pup," he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face. "Ready to continue?"
You nodded, unable to stop the happy grin that overtook your face at the idea of him finally taking you. A thrill ran down your spine as Astarion laid you back on the bed and crawled up to you, kissing you harshly. You were dimly aware of him pumping his cock between you.
He pulled away suddenly, glancing down his body. "Shit."
You frowned, trying to catch his eye again. "Darling? What's wrong?"
Astarion sighed. "In my...excitement, I may have forgotten a very important detail." He looked down at himself and you sat up and followed his gaze. His cock was half-hard, but not nearly enough to slide into you. You whispered a quiet "oh." In his embarrassment, Astarion refused to meet your gaze. He looked much smaller, like he'd curled up into himself. "Unimpressive, huh?"
The half-disguised anger and humiliation in his voice made your heart ache. You cupped his face, turning his face toward you. You kissed him softly. "Oh, Astarion... No, you're not. You are impressive, you're just not quite ready yet. You forget I've seen you before, fully hard after you feed."
"I think you're missing the point," he said weakly. He pulled his legs up to his chest, effectively hiding himself. "I can't fuck you like this, darling."
"You can once you've had some blood, but that's beside the point." You kissed his cheek, rubbing a hand through his hair. He leaned into your touch. "You're more than just sex, Astarion. Damn good sex, sure, but that's not all you are, no matter what anybody else—and especially your master—told you."
He turned to you, a strange look in his eyes. You took his hand, raised it to your mouth, and kissed the back of his hand. He leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder.
"This is the second time you've had to say this, something like this, to me during sex," he said with a humorless giggle, a shadow of his usual one.
"And I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it," you promised, kissing the top of his head.
For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he just blinked until the teary glaze in his eyes went away. "Thank you," he whispered, and he adjusted to kiss the spot on your neck he always drank from. He lightly scraped his teeth against your skin. "Do you want to do this?"
You hummed, leaning into his affection. "Yes, sweetheart. I want this. I want you. I want you very, very badly."
He smiled. "Lay on your side, darling. Let me lay behind you."
You did as he asked, relaxing into his hold and letting him manhandle you into the position he wanted. He pulled you flush against his body, his length pressing into you, his arm around your waist and holding you against him as if he was afraid you'd try to escape the moment he bit you. With his free hand, he brushed your hair off your neck.
"Are you ready, darling?" he whispered, dragging his teeth across the shell of your ear.
You nodded. "Mhm."
"Just relax for me," he breathed. He nuzzled into your neck and kissed the spot he was going to bite. "Right here? Your favorite spot?"
"Right there," you whispered. You put your hand over his and both of you (you weren't sure who moved first) twined your fingers together. He squeezed your hand gently before he sank his teeth into your neck.
Quiet filled the room, except for the rain on the roof, your steady breathing (only steady for now), and Astarion's sucking.
It had been just over a week since he'd fed from you this way, and the sensation was just as alien as it had been that first night you'd let him drink—two tiny shards of ice, the cold numbness spreading slowly through the surrounding area, preventing you from feeling any pain in his bite. Slowly, you acclimated to the sensation and it faded into a dull, throbbing pleasure.
He slid his free hand under your head, holding your head up and your neck steady. He gently scratched your scalp.
"Astarion," you moaned, squeezing his hand. He grunted, continuing his sucking. You focused less on the sound of it—which reminded you vaguely of sucking juice out of a dripping fruit—and more of the feeling of his body against you. "Enjoy this, sweetheart. Please, just for me."
He cuddled closer to you, humming, and you smiled as he let go of your hand to briefly squeeze your hip. Your smile widened when he took your hand in his again as quickly as he possibly could.
It didn't take long for Astarion to start getting into it. He began whimpering softly, so unrestrained you were certain he had no idea he was doing it. Slowly, his hips began rolling against you, gentle motions at first that grew more noticeable and more desperate the longer he drank.
His teeth still in your neck, Astarion began grinding his hardened length into the swell of your ass. His whimpers became moans and then animalistic grunts. He drank in time with every thrust against you and slowly you were reduced to those two sensations.
Throbbing overtook you. Your head was pounding, just slight enough for it to be ignored, and need pulsed in your cunt. You could feel your juices coating your thighs and the dull throbbing in your clit. But the rest of your body was growing pleasantly numb. Your extremities began to tingle.
Astarion's gulps slowed down and his thrusting became feral. You moaned once, very loudly, as his cock slid briefly between your legs and rubbed against your pussy. Your moan spurred him on and he adjusted to keep grinding himself on your thigh.
A few more swallows of blood was all it took for the edges of your vision to get blurry. Your eyes fluttered shut; you didn't have the strength to open them again. You could no longer feel your fingers and you were only partially aware of your hand slipping out of his. But Astarion was incredibly aware of it; he stopped drinking and twisted around you to lay in front of you to check on you.
Your head dropped to the mattress without Astarion's hand holding you up. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook you and you groaned quietly.
"Hey, hey, hey, look at me," he said, cupping your cheek. You opened your eyes. "There's my girl. How are you doing? Feel okay? Did I take too much?"
"Slow down on the questions," you said, "and hold me."
He chuckled and scooted closer, pulling you into his arms. He kissed the top of your head. "But are you okay?"
You nodded. "Give me a minute and I'll be right as rain."
He giggled. "Right as rain..."
You rolled your eyes. "What can I say, the storm's got me thinking." You tucked yourself into his arms, your lips against his chest. You kissed his skin softly. He hummed happily and you continued, nipping at his skin. Now that he'd fed, bruises started to form under your lips.
"I'm okay now," you said after a few moments. The throbbing in your head had eased up and you no longer felt like you were about to pass out.
"Not dizzy anymore?" he asked.
You shook your head. "I'm alright."
He smiled at you; gods, that smile was gorgeous. "Well, now, dear. Let me return the favor..."
You blinked at him. "Favor—? Oh!"
Astarion's mouth was back on your breasts, this time leaving hickeys all over your skin—and tiny, bloody pinpricks from his fangs—that matched the bruises you'd left on him. You whined, gripping his hair tightly.
He grinned against your skin. "Oh, darling—I know. I know you want me. Your body and I have kept you waiting long enough, haven't we?"
You put your hand on his chest. "Wait, darling. Let me..." You slid down his body and gripped his cock in your hand. He groaned loudly, bucking his hips into your hand.
"Oh, darling, that feels..." He moaned. "Gods."
"It's about to get better, if you'd like?" you asked. You kissed his thigh. "Do you want me to?"
Something in his face changed, his features softening. You fancied that you could see some of his walls come down in his eyes, but you chalked it up to your hopeful imagination. But then he was nodding and whispering, "Yes."
You kissed around his base, watching him shudder every time your lips touched his skin. You locked eyes with him and pressed your lips to his base. He whined, high and needy, throwing his head back. You smiled; you'd never heard him make that sound before, but I wanted to hear it again.
You moved up to kiss his tip. A groan came from the back of his throat. You gave his head a small lick and watched his entire body shudder with pleasure.
"Ready?" you asked him, placing another kiss to his length.
"Yes," he breathed, looking down at you. "Yes."
You licked the underside of his cock, from base to head, then took his head in your mouth and sucked lightly. He whined the entire time, growing steadily louder until he was moaning. You took him deeper and he threw his head back again, swallowing harshly. Gods, he's so pretty when he's losing control... You reached up and took his hand, squeezing gently.
He bucked his hips into your mouth. You made a soft sound of slight complaint, surprised by the motion. "S-sorry," he breathed, his chest heaving. His voice was tight, the muscles of his abdomen tight. "You just... Gods, you're good at this. You are...amazing."
You squeezed his hand until he looked down at you, your question was in your eyes: are you alright?
"Keep going," he urged. "I'm— I'm more than alright, darling."
You sank down further until he hit the back of your throat. You moaned to feel him twitch in your mouth; you weren't expecting the breathy gasp that came from him. You did it again and his hand left yours to thread through your hair, putting the slightest amount of pressure on you.
"Is this okay?" he asked shakily, struggling to get the words out through his heavy breaths.
You winked at him and he groaned, the sound feral. He held onto your hair for dear life and you kept sucking, licking the underside of his cock every chance you could. Occasionally, he bucked his hips desperately, alternating between gasping for breath and whimpering your name between moans that verged on sobs.
Astarion jerked his hips, his cock kicking up. You took advantage to swirl your tongue around his tip, tasing his pre-cum. He leaned up on his forearms and you saw the tears on his waterline. Concerned flooded through you. His face was relaxed into an expression of pure ecstasy, but...
You pulled off of him. "Astarion? Are you okay, sweetheart?"
His chest heaved, glistening with sweat, while he gasped for breath. "I— I'm okay. You're wonderful, darling, absolutely..." He beckoned you up to him with two fingers, that dominant look back in his eye. You did as he ordered without question. "Come here. As much as I love this, I need to fuck you."
You whined. "Astari, please. Please. Please, I want you."
"Look at you, begging for me," he cooed, his hand sliding between your legs. He rubbed your clit and you arched into his touch, moaning wantonly. "There she is. That's it, darling, just feel good for me."
You leaned into his chest. "Astarion! I need you. I need you to fuck me, please, gods."
Astarion chuckled and pulled his hand away from you. He gently laid you on your back and crawled over you. He kissed you deeply before sitting back and lining himself up with your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. Anticipation and excitement mixed in your stomach.
Astarion placed the head of his cock against you and then looked up at you. His face was fond as he met your gaze. "Are you ready for me, darling?"
"Yes," you breathed. "I— Oh, gods, yes!"
"Tell me if it hurts," he whispered. He kissed your forehead briefly.
You watched him move, slowly bucking his hips forward to push his cock inside of you. His eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. You forced yourself to remember to breathe as he bottomed out, your walls stretching to accommodate him; he finally let out a deep groan from the back of his throat.
"Darling," he moaned, leaning down to you. You reached up, putting your hand in his hair, and brought his head down to you. Once again, you weren't sure who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on yours.
It was a gentle kiss that was fitting for his slow, shallow thrusts. The two of you panted into each other. He put his forehead against yours, glancing down and watching him slide in and out of you, whispering in Elvish at the sight.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "Astarion... Oh, gods..."
"You feel so good," he groaned. "Darling, I— Ohhh, sweet girl." He bent down to lick the small blood spots off your breasts. He moaned sweetly. "You taste even better when I'm inside you, my love. You taste sweet—like a delectable wine."
You whimpered. "I don't mean to deprive you of my blood, dear, but please please kiss me."
He chuckled and kissed his way up your neck, stopping briefly to lick your already-closing puncture wounds, before he kissed your lips. His mouth tasted vaguely of iron.
Your walls tightened around him. He was rubbing inside of you in just the right ways, hitting pleasure spots that his fingers had already made tender. His thrusts were still gentle, not enough to make you see stars but enough to make your entire body relax and give in to the pleasure.
"You're wonderful, darling," he murmured. He reached up to roll your nipple in his fingers. "You feel so perfect around me. So tight...so wet...so eager... Gods, darling, yes, just clench around me like that."
You threw your head back and he immediately descended on it, kissing and licking and nipping at your skin. You could feel the bruises that you would find in the morning.
"Faster," you told him. "I can take more than this, Astari."
He grinned and you were moaning seconds later as he sped up, his hips snapping into you.
"Can you take it harder? Deeper?" he asked. "You have no idea how hard it is not to ravish you, darling."
You cupped his chin and brought him back up to your face. You kissed him hard, more tongues and teeth than anything. You met his gaze and whispered, "Then ravish me."
Astarion pushed his lips back to yours, grunting animalistically, and slammed his cock into you. You cried out, clinging to him desperately as he fucked you relentlessly, his hips snapping against yours, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every thrust. The head of his cock kissed your cervix every time, making your entire body shudder. You began meeting his thrusts and he chuckled, one hand gripping your hip to help keep you up.
You threw your legs around his hips and both of you groaned at the new angle. Astarion muttered to himself in Elvish, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You kissed him, bringing him back to you. He smiled, kissing your forehead.
"Aren't you gorgeous?" he whispered to you, staring deep into your eyes. There was an alertness there that you hadn't noticed the first time he'd fucked you like this, out in the woods that night.
You reached up to cup his cheek. "You're quite handsome like this, Astarion," you murmured. "You always are."
He smiled softly at you and turned to kiss your palm, his hips stuttering for a moment. He grunted and pushed deeper into you, making you cry out again. He glanced down your bodies and watched the two of you thrust into each other.
"Gods, that's a pretty view," he murmured, his voice breathy. "Your slick shining on my dick...and, oh, look at that... The outline of my cock in your tummy. Gods, that's hot." He placed his hand on your lower abdomen where the bulge was and he pressed down. You whined, clenching your teeth and trying not to scream. He, of course, noticed. "Oh, that feels good, does it?"
You whimpered out a weak, "Yes!" He grinned and began pressing down on every stroke into you.
You gripped his shoulder, your nails digging in; you knew there would be scratches on his back and shoulders come morning and you were careful to avoid his scar, knowing just how painful that would be if scratched.
He kept losing his rhythm every so often and you knew he was getting close; thankfully, so were you.
"I'm close," you whispered. "I'm so close, darling."
On the next thrust in, he adjusted the hand pushing down on your abdomen so that his thumb could circle around your clit. "Does this help?"
You whined, nodding frantically. "Oh, Astari— Don't stop, please don't stop, I—" Your words faded into moans. He giggled.
"Don't worry, darling, I don't intend on stopping until you've finished around my cock," he whispered in your ear. Your entire body shuddered.
Astarion's thrusts grew a bit sloppier, but his thumb on your clit remained dedicated to making you cum. You were half-convinced the way he spoke as he gazed down at you adoringly would be enough even without the cock thrusting into you or the thumb stimulating you.
"Gods, look at you," he murmured. "Look at that body, responding to me so eagerly! Those beautiful breasts, perky nipples, all covered in my bite marks... That lovely neck, marked and still just barely bleeding..." He bent to lick the thin trail of blood. "These legs, wrapped around my waist, and that pussy just sucking me in." He brushed your hair out of your eyes. "And I could never forget this darling face, those beautiful eyes just staring up at me like I hung the moon and stars..." He pressed his forehead to yours. Softly, he said, "Come on, darling, cum for me. Cum on my cock. Let me feel you clench around me and lose yourself in me."
The thread inside you snapped. You arched off the bed and into his body. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you to him, whispering words of encouragement. You screamed as you came, clenching so hard around him it was a miracle he kept fucking you through it. He pulled his hand off your clit as soon as the feeling became too much, reading your body with ease.
"That's it," he whispered to you. "That's my girl. Easy, darling, breathe. You did so well. Do you mind if I—" He groaned, hips faltering for a moment. "Do you mind if I cum inside you?"
You whined. "Oh, gods, yes, please do! Cum inside me, Astarion, cum inside me, I want it!"
He moaned happily, kissing your neck fervently. He began rambling. "Hells, darling, you spoil me. Feeding me with your bleeding cunt for a week? Taking my cum the moment it's over? You needy, heavenly little thing." He kissed his way up to your jaw. You put your fingers in his hair. "Oh, you're so wet now, sweet girl. You've soaked me. You look so pretty around me. Oh, gods, you're so much tighter now— I'm not going to last much longer, dear. You're good, you're too good. My love, oh my love!" He lost his rhythm entirely, fucking you only with the need to cum. "I love this. I love every bit of this. I love—"
He cut himself off. He cried out, burying his face in your neck and his cock in your cunt. Warmth flooded you as he spilled himself deep inside you. His hips stuttered and flexed a few more times, his cock twitching inside you, before he finally let out a long breath and collapsed on top of you. Immediately, your arms wrapped around him and you held him tight to your chest.
As the two of you lay panting together, your mind was working on overdrive. He hadn't said it, but you'd heard what he wanted to say: I love you. The very same words you were dying to say.
At last, Astarion lifted his head. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
You combed your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered. "Not one bit, darling. I'm perfectly fine." You kissed his nose and he giggled. You stared at him, your beautiful boy, for a moment, enjoying the feelign of his body actually being warm against yours for once, before you asked, "What about you? Are you feeling alright? Good, even?"
Astarion giggled. "Don't sell yourself short, my love, you're absolutely wonderful. I feel amazing. Content. Cared for. Loved." With every word, his voice got smaller, quieter. He seemed to retract into himself. You frowned.
"Where'd you go? Come back to me," you whispered.
He looked back up at you and the tears were back in his eyes, but this time you doubted they were tears of pleasure. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to..." He sighed. "I didn't mean to disappear on you. It's just...I'm used to that. I'm used to disappearing during sex, after sex... But I didn't do that this time. It was...different with you. It was nice. You've cared for me like no one else ever has. You...you paid attention to what I wanted, how I felt, what I liked. You weren't just using me for your own pleasure. I... It was like...you cared about me. I don't even know what to say! But, ah, you made me feel good, in a lot of ways. So... Thank you, darling."
You cupped his face and kissed him softly. "Of course I care about you, Astarion, I— I...love you."
He tensed up in your arms. A flash of panic passed through his eyes. You shook your head quickly.
"You don't have to say it back," you said hurriedly. "Not until you're ready. But I want you to know exactly how I feel about you. And...I love you."
He smiled and relaxed, melting into your embrace. "Thank you, my love. I...I'm not ready, not quite yet, but...thank you for respecting that. Here—let me cuddle you, I know how much you like that."
The two of you adjusted so that you could lay on your sides. You curled up in his arms and nestled your head into his neck. He carded his fingers through your hair, a gentle movement that was well on its way to lulling you to sleep. You reluctantly pulled yourself away, and only because you had adjusted and suddenly felt the cooling, sticky liquid between your thighs.
"We should get cleaned up," you murmured.
Astarion hummed. "Oh, yes, let me—" He reached for his shirt on the floor and brought it up to himself.
"No, no," you said. "Let me do it."
You took a towel and dampened it in the bowl of lukewarm water on the nightstand—probably there for this exact purpose. You squeezed the excess water out and gently wiped your mixed, drying releases from Astarion's thighs, abdomen, and cock. He sighed softly, relaxing as you cleaned him off.
"No one's ever done this for you before, have they?" you asked. He shook his head. You kissed him softly. "Get used to it, darling, because I intend to do this for you every time."
He grinned, a pleasant blush on his cheeks. "I could get used to this." He took the towel away from you. "Here, let me do it for you."
You laid back and let him slid between your legs. He groaned softly. "Oh, my sweet girl, you look so delicious with my cum dripping out of you."
You blushed fiercely, groaning. "Stop talking like that, or I'm going to demand we go again."
He perked up. "I'm up for a second round—if you can handle it, that is," he added with a cheeky grin.
You considered it for a moment while he wiped your thighs and entrance clean. "Give me an hour and maybe we can."
Astarion smiled and placed a dainty kiss just above your clit. "That's my girl." He laid back down beside you and pulled you into his arms. "Get some rest now, darling, you need it after today."
You wrapped your arms around him and rested your cheek against his chest. "Thank you, Astarion. For everything."
He hummed and kissed the top of your head, stroking your hair. "You're welcome, my love."
~❊~
You were ready to leave the next morning, and you and Astarion met the others in front of the clerk's desk on the first floor of the inn. Astarion handed back the key while you limped over to the group.
Unsurprisingly, Astarion had left you with quite the limp, even more severe than the first time he'd eaten you out at camp. Karlach didn't even try to contain her laughter at the sight of you.
"So you did fuck her last night!" she said to Astarion as he joined you. You blushed heavily. "We had no idea, couldn't hear a thing!"
Astarion raised an eyebrow, then looked at you with a grin. "They couldn't hear us, even with all the noise you made? We're getting a room at an inn every chance we can get from now on!"
"Not so fast," Gale said quickly, "they might not have heard you, but Wyll and I did!"
You squeaked. "You did?"
Wyll nodded, somewhat amused and somewhat apologetic. "You made noises I didn't think were possible. Or meant pleasure."
You turned immediately to Astarion, who was grinning like a cat, and buried your face in his chest. "Hide me."
"It's alright, darling," he whispered to you. "Gale and Wyll were across the hall from us. Next time, we'll just get a room as far away from the others as possible and I'll make you scream into the wee hours of the morning."
You blushed very brightly and the others groaned.
"Don't break her," Shadowheart chided. "Is your wound—"
"It's fine!" both you and Astarion said before she could continue.
"She's all healed up, no more scarring," Astarion promised. "Believe me, I wouldn't have gone as hard as I did if I thought she would get hurt by it."
"Okay, that's enough!" Gale said quickly. "Let's leave, please, and keep going. We've got important business to attend to!"
As you left the inn, Astarion took your hand and kissed the top of your head. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you? That limp's quite noticeable, dear."
"I'm fine," you promised. "You were quite good last night."
"Good. I'd be inconsolable if I had hurt you," he said. He brush your hair behind you ear. "I mean that, you know."
You leaned into his side and kissed his cheek. "I know, darling. And thank you. Now, come on, help me walk. It will be your fault if I fall."
He snorted. "Because I have you a good orgasm? No, wait, how many did it end up being last night? Two the first time...then another three?"
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, stop bragging! Come on, Gale's right: we've got work to do."
Astarion kissed you one last time, then pulled you against his side and followed the others out of the village.
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin
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honeyryewhiskey · 4 months ago
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄
— dean accidentally opens the box of a familiar, and you're not exactly thrilled to have been bound to a hunter. — not much for warnings, gross witchy scenery? 3k words
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The hunt should have been over the second Dean sent a bullet through the witch’s heart. That should have been the final act, clean and simple. But Sam—of course—was adamant about raiding her lair for books to add to the their archives.
Dean could handle hunting a witch just fine—gross as hell, but manageable. A coven? Sure, stomach-churning, but he’d get it done. A witch’s lair, though? That was where he drew a hard line.
The house itself had looked deceptively normal, an old Victorian tucked amongst a dense forest of willow trees. As the witch’s body turned to ash in the backyard, Dean followed Sam into the basement. Cool, damp stone walls seemed to absorb every bit of light, the beam from their flashlights swallowed by shadowed corners as though the darkness itself were alive. 
Dean lingered near the stone steps as Sam meandered around, not nearly as phased by the chaotic graveyard of horrors stored on every rotting wooden shelf.
The space was small, unease creeping up Dean’s spine as he stood between the shelves and tables that buckled under the weight of dozens of glass jars. Each filled with murky liquids or splintered bones, some crammed with grotesque chunks of something—hair, teeth, both. A viscous, questionable goo dripped from the edges of the shelf near his head, pooling onto the cold stone floor. In the corner, an ominous object shrouded in swirling fog pulsed faintly, as if it were breathing.
Every fiber of Dean’s being recoiled in protest.
His grimace deepened as his eyes flicked between the copious amount of jars, trying to find the least disgusting focal point. But the cauldron on his left was impossible to ignore, its grotesque contents bubbling and hissing as steam curled into the air. The smell of rotting flesh wafted through the air, sharp and cloying with each pop, hiss, pop. It burned his nose enough to bring tears to his eyes.
Dean squinted at the rancid brew, his brows drawing together in disgust. “Is that—blood?” he muttered under his breath. “Oh, hell no.” He thought he saw something floating in it—a hand, maybe. Pointing his flashlight at the pot, a small pale patch of skin gleamed in the light. Definitely a hand. 
He swallowed hard, forcing down the rising bile, when Sam’s voice rang out like a gunshot, sharp and urgent.
“What the—Dean!”
The urgency in Sam’s tone trigged every sensitive nerve, turning over into adrenaline that surged through Dean’s veins. His body moved on instinct, rounding the corner with his ivory Colt raised, his heart pounding in his ears.
“What?” he barked, his voice sharp with a dreadful medley of fear and irritation. Clearing his throat, he tried again, steadier but no less on edge. “What is it?”
He skidded to a stop, the sight before him turning his stomach anew. Sam stood frozen, wide-eyed and pale, staring at an altar of what Dean could only recognize as archaic dark magic.
The altar dominated the room, massive and ominous. Carved from dark, weathered stone, it looked ancient, as though it had been forged centuries ago in a time best left forgotten. Symbols and figures sprawled across its surface and the surrounding walls, their etched edges worn smooth by the passage of time. The carvings seemed alive in the flickering light of dozens of candles arranged in a deliberate circle around the altar’s platform. The golden glow casts eerie, dancing shadows that seem to twist and shift like living things.
At the center of the altar sat a sleek, coffin-shaped box, the soft brown wood a stark contrast to the horrors of the stone above. A massive steel lock secured it, its design intricate, almost ceremonial, and clearly ancient. From the edges of the box, faint tendrils of white mist curled outward, drifting like restless spirits.
Dean’s gaze narrowed as he approached the box, his instincts prickling. A glass window gave view to the inside, something like a face looked back at Dean, obscured by the swirling mist. But as he leaned closer, he could just make out the curves of a woman’s face. He couldn’t if he was looking at something dead or alive, the haze and stillness disorienting any semblance of life.
“Dean,” Sam whispers, a silent plea in his worried eyes as his chin jerked toward the box sitting ominously in the middle of the room. Faint glints of magic pulsed a glowing green in the veins of the woodwork, as if the box itself contained more life than the body inside. Dean couldn’t ignore the slight hum emitting from the cursed thing, oppressive and low like a growling predator—bowed and ready to lurch. 
Dean turned to him, incredulous, his expression a mix of defiance and disgust. “I’m not touching that thing.” He straightens his back, but can’t help glancing back. The humming invaded his senses, seeping into his ear drums and beckoning his attention. 
Sam’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening as he shot Dean a look. “We have to check if she’s alive.”
Dean crossed his arms, glancing between Sam and the coffin. “Okay, great. You do it then.”
“Oh, come on—” Sam started, exasperated.
“No. Absolutely not. You do it,” Dean cut him off, taking a step back for emphasis.
Sam rolled his eyes, his shoulders tensing with irritation as he mimnicked Dean’s retreat, but the advantage of his longer stride puts far more distance between him and the entity. “You’re closer.”
Dean scoffs, “I’m also smart enough to not mess with whatever that is,” Dean shot back, jabbing a finger toward the box. 
The tension hung thick in the stale, musty air of the room. Their argument devolving into a silent battle of glares and clenched jaws, the kind of stubborn standoff only brothers could maintain. The faint sound of something dripping—water or something far worse—echoed from the shadows, an eerie rhythm pattering to their exchange.
Finally, Sam huffed and threw his hands up, his patience wearing thin. “Fine. Rock, paper, scissors.”
Dean groaned loudly, the sound echoing off the cold stone walls. He rubbed a hand down his face as if physically preparing himself for what was to come. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, but Sam’s determined look left no room for argument.
With a resigned sigh, Dean tucked his colt behind his back, exchanging it for a fist in one hand, the other opened flat beneath it. His lips curled in a reluctant grimace. “Fine, let’s do this.”
They counted together, the rhythm of their voices tense and clipped between the echos of dripping water and magic’s hum. On the third count, Dean groaned, his shoulders sagging as Sam’s paper crushed his rock.
“Damn it,” Dean muttered, punctuating his frustration with a string of colorful curses. Sam smirked faintly as he handed over his sawed off shotgun, clearly enjoying his victory a little too much. Dean snatched the weapon with a scowl.
“She better not bite me,” Dean grumbled under his breath, rolling his neck as if psyching himself up. He flexed his fingers around the gun, shaking out his hands before turning his full attention to the box.
The object loomed in the dim light, taunting him. The faint metallic tang of old blood mixed with the musty smell of decay hanging heavy in the air. Dean’s lip curled in distaste as he stepped closer, shotgun poised.
With a muttered curse, he raised the weapon and brought the butt of the gun down hard on the rusted lock. The sharp crack echoed off the stone walls like a gunshot, the steel clasp clattering to the floor with an ominous finality.
The lid creaked open with an almost deliberate slowness, releasing a thick plume of white fog that hissed as it spilled out, curling unnaturally across the floor. The fog carried a potent floral scent, one that would be sweet had it not come billowing out with an offensive invasion of every sense. It clings to their throats, earthy and rich on their tongues. Both brothers cough and sputter, trying to expel the heady fragrance. 
Dean swatted futilely at the cloud as he shoved Sam’s gun back into his brother’s grasp, his face twisted in irritation. The air felt suffocating now, thick and almost alive as it pressed against their skin.
“Fucking witches,” Dean grumbles, gagging on the fog’s assault. 
“Check for a pulse,” Sam said, his voice muffled by the sleeve pressed to his face as floral notes lingered stubbornly in the air.
Dean shot him a withering glare, his jaw tightening. “What do you think I’m doing, sightseeing?” he snapped. His nose wrinkled as he steeled himself, reluctantly extending two fingers toward the ridgid figure.
The carved wooden edge bit into his arm as he reached inside, his fingers brushing against skin that was far too warm for someone who looked so deathly still. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before pressing his fingers to the wrist, his touch tentative against the unnerving softness.
A single thud of a pulse reverberated beneath his fingertips, firm and slow. Then, without warning, a sharp, electric jolt shot up his arm, stinging like a live wire.
“Son of a—” Dean hissed, yanking his arm back as if burned. He stumbled a step, cradling the assaulted limb against his chest. His glare darted toward the box as if it had personally insulted him.
The altar around them seemed to shudder in response, emitting a deep, reverberating hum that thrummed through the room like a living heartbeat. The vibration rattled the shelves and sent a few jars tumbling, their contents splattering across the stone floor in a sickly mess.
“Whoa,” Sam breathed, his eyes wide as he leaned in. “Dean, look—her wrist.”
Dean’s gaze snapped back to the figure, narrowing as he focused on the exposed wrist. A faint marron glow illuminated the dim space, drawing his attention to the intricate mark now etching itself into skin. It twisted and spiraled inwards like a labyrinth, a perfect circle of maze-like lines leading to the hexagram at its center. 
“What the hell…” Dean muttered, his voice low and uneasy. The symbol pulsed faintly with an eerie, otherworldly light, each flicker sending a fresh wave of unease crawling up his spine until the glow simmered into an angry red scar. 
“Wait—” Sam’s voice cuts sharply through the tense air. His hand shoots out to grab Dean’s wrist, drawing a startled groan as Dean instinctively jerks back, cradling his arm to his chest.
“What the hell, Sam?” Dean snaps, his glare fierce.
“Uh, Dean…” Sam’s voice wavers as he nods toward his brother’s wrist.
Dean follows his gaze, his irritation draining into a nauseous unease. On the inside of his wrist, a faint red symbol begins to glow. The intricate maze-like lines twisting in the same fashion as before.The pulsing light feels alive, like claws sinking deeper into his skin, its rhythm uncomfortably in sync with something else.
You.
A soft, languid yawn escapes your lips, and both men startle, their weapons drawn in unison as your body shifts against the confines of the box. You twist and turn, your spine stretching almost unnaturally as you work the slumber from your body. Your eyes blink open slowly, heavy with drowsiness. The room is dim as you sit up, but even in the low light, you can see the tension etched into the brother’s postures.
Flexing your fingers with a deep, patient breath, you glance between them, taking in the guns pointed at you without a flicker of fear. Your gaze drifts lower, catching sight of the faint glow on Dean’s wrist. Your expression hardens, any hint of lethargy vanishing.
“You killed my witch,” you say flatly, your tone devoid of warmth, cutting straight through the silence.
Dean’s jaw tightens as his grip on the weapon steadies, his green eyes narrowing. “Don’t move,” he orders, his voice devoid of care.
Your lips curl into a smirk—a slow, mocking thing that dances at the corners of your mouth. You rise to your feet slowly, stretching your neck with the causal grace of a predator. Your movements are smooth, deliberate as your eyes dig into his.
“What are you?” Sam asks, his voice tight but undoubtedly curious, his brow furrowed in cautious concern.
You tilt your head, your gaze flicking to him briefly before settling back on Dean. “What am I?” you echo, the corner of your mouth twitching upward, but the slit of your stare drowns your smile in mockery. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before binding my soul to his.”
Dean’s frown deepens, his confusion plain, but his voice sharpens like a blade. “What did you just say?” Dean demands, his voice low and sharp, a dangerous edge that matches the glint of the gun in his hand.
Sam’s face drains of color as he lowers his weapon, a soft, horrified “Oh, God,” slipping past his lips.
Your eyes flash, an unnatural luminous green light flaring briefly before fading back into something more human. You sigh, exasperated, as if their ignorance is almost too much to bear. “I am not going to spell it out for you,” you spat, each word cut with your impatient disdain. You cross your arms, turning your focus to inspect your nails, waiting for the brothers to put two glaringly obvious puzzle pieces together. 
Dean’s eyes narrow, his scowl deepening, but before he can snap back at you, Sam’s voice cuts through the tension, cautious yet tinged with realization. “Dean, uh… I think she’s a familiar.”
Dean’s frown deepens, you can physically see the wheels turning in his head. Finally, he tucks the colt back into his waistband as his head snaps toward Sam. “A what?”
Sam’s gaze flickers nervously between you and Dean. “A familiar. Y’know—like a witch’s magical companion.”
The disgust on Dean’s face is immediate and unfiltered, his lip curling as though the words left a bad taste in his mouth. “You’re saying she’s some kind of… pet?”
You whip your head toward him, eyes narrowed into slits, the sharp retort escaping your lips before you can stop it. “I am not a pet, you Neanderthal.” Your voice is as tough as steel, every syllable cutting through the room with precision.
Dean’s brows lift, his dismissive smirk only adding fuel to the fire. “Oh, relax,” he shoots back, waving you off like an annoying stray hissing pathetically at his feet. “Sammy, tell me you can fix this.”
“I—I don’t know,” Sam stammers, clearly out of his depth. His eyes dart between you and Dean like he’s watching the beginning curls and clashes of a cat fight. “I’d have to—”
“Research!” Dean interrupts, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “Because that’s always the answer.” His voice is practically vibrating with frustration as he pivots back to you, green eyes narrowing again. “Alright, familiar-lady, let’s go.”
You tilt your chin up, tightening your hold on yourself with an air of defiance, your posture radiating every pulse of your obstinacy. “No.” The single word is crisp, final, and as razor-edged as the glare you toss over your shoulder before turning away entirely.
Dean exhales slowly, the sound heavy with a barely contained vexation. His jaw tightens like cement setting on top of earth. As he speaks again, his octave drops, dangerous, each word laced with displeased command. “Let’s go. Now.”
The words hit like a shove, heavy and unavoidable. The edges of his piercing tone dig into your throat like iron spikes anger pooling from your glowering eyes with pure venom. Teeth clenched, you step out of the box reluctantly, your movements stiff with rebellion as you stalk towards the door.
Dean watches your retreat, the muscles in his jaw tensing and popping as if he’s trying to bite back every curse in the book. His stare snaps to Sam, eyes fierce with confusion and frustration. “What the hell just happened?”
Sam shifts uncomfortably, his lips pressing into a thin line as he pats Dean’s shoulder. His expression teeters between unease and a forced attempt at reassurance. “I think you just gave your first command,” he tries apprehensively.
Dean groans, dragging a hand down his face. “This is so messed up,” he mutters, his boots already thudding heavily as he starts after you.
Sam trails behind him, casting a wary glance at your retreating figure before leaning in toward Dean. “Yeah,” he interjects under his breath, his voice edged with genuine concern. “And for the record? I don’t think she likes being told what to do.”
Dean shoots him a withering scowl, his bitterness simmering just below the surface like a fire ready to ignite. “Yeah, ya think, Einstein,” he grumbles, quickening his pace.
Sam lingers for a moment, his brow furrowed as he watches you stride ahead, your defiant posture radiating silent fury. He sighs, falling into step beside his brother, his voice quieter this time. “Dean… if we can’t figure this out—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Dean cuts him off, but there’s a crack in his armor. His shoulders are rigid, his steps heavy, every muscle in his body coiled tight with anger.
They walk in silence for a beat, the question hanging between them like the dark thundering skies of a brewing storm. Both brothers, lost in their own thoughts, feel the weight of the situation pressing down—a bond they don’t understand, but know enough to see the problem without an easy fix.
Sam finally breaks the quiet, his voice tinged with reluctant worry. “How do we even start breaking the bond without… you know…?”
Dean’s jaw clenches, his lips set in a grim line as his gaze flicks toward you ascending the basement’s stone stairs. “I don’t know, Sammy,” he mutters, his voice low, almost defeated. “But we’re gonna figure it out. We have to.”
Ahead of them, your darkly dressed silhouette looks almost ghostly against the light of day. And as they follow, both brothers are haunted by the same question: how do you undo a bond like this without killing the human who holds it?
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hiii this series will be very dark whimsy fun, derived from the story of hecate and her familiars
tagging ( i always forget to do this ) my mooties but lmk if u wanna be added <3 @titsout4jackles @floralscented @ultravi0lence14 @deansbeer
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ldysmfrst · 8 months ago
Text
American Mate (14) - Does it Always End in Ruin?
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Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader
Status: Ongoing series
Chapter number: 14 of unknown
Word count for Chapter: 11,223
Work count for Story: 112,695
Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine
A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.
Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, Alphas fronting, a scenting session with hints of a panic attack, comfort, possessiveness, angst, and mentions of giving aphrodisiac-laced chocolates to Jungkook without his knowledge. There are also nightmares containing mentions of past trauma, violence, abuse, and threats of death.
BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit
AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST
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You can scent me in the car.
You… can… scent… me… in… the… car…
It’s not like he is gonna do anything untoward– right?
Your body flushes with thoughts of the many ways the scenting session could go “wrong,” like pinning you in the corner against the door and backseat, ravishing your neck in a way that ensures you have a mark that anyone can see.
Following the hyper-focused Prime Alpha of Bangtan Pack to allow him to scent you in a car like you both were some horny teenagers with no control makes the walk through the Gala a blur.  With how firmly Namjoon holds your hand and guides you with determination, you aren’t the only one feeling it, right?
Your mind was going from things that were not safe for work while simultaneously trying to find ways to throw on the breaks. You were too much in your head battling away the thoughts you shouldn’t be having for a mated man, much less a mated man at a public event with other hybrids that you were 100000000% could smell just what you were thinking of. 
What would the rest of the pack think? Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jungkook had already scented me in bed, as bad as that sounds, but why did getting scented by the Prime Alpha in the back of a car sound so much more… intimate? It's like something that he should be doing with his bonded mate, not you.
Your mind is yelling at you, coming through like a spotty radio, while your body is thrumming with the charged atmosphere that now encapsulates the two of you.
Then again, you could be making this up and reading into things too much. That must be what is happening, right? The after-effects of being tangoed with by Lee Minho… you were still starstruck, and emotions were running high. You did that in high school, letting your emotions get the better of you, which is why you started shying away from skinship. Who wouldn’t after getting humiliated day in and day out about being an attention-seeking fat whore in the cafeteria with no help from the staff?
Whatever, back to the issue at hand. He has bonded mates waiting for him to come home. You should excuse yourself to the bathroom and call one of them. 
Jin would be a good phone call, and he is the oldest.
Then there is Yoongi, who is almost powerful enough to be the Prime himself. 
Taehyung is supposed to be helping right now; maybe he… he can… Agh! What teleport to the Gala and leave with Namjoon instead of you?
No, you already let Jimin’s Alpha, Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook intentionally scent you, which means Namjoon should be able to scent you… in a car. 
They all have said they want skinship, and you said you would be willing to try. Now get it together, woman! Besides, you told Hoseok that everyone deserves a second chance.
This is Namjoon’s second chance.
You have never turned away someone in need before, and clearly, whatever Lee Min Ho did triggered Alpha Joon to come out, and he needs the scenting session to calm down. You were their Playmate, which meant supporting the emotional needs of your assigned hybrid(s) was also part of your job.
The next thing you feel is Namjoon letting go of your hand, which brings you out of your internal argument as he drapes your cape over your shoulders. You watch him as he secures the closure and fusses with it to make sure it is lying correctly.
You are searching for anything to tell you exactly where he is with any of this. You notice the rigid set of his jaw, which hasn’t relaxed since you saw him at the start of the dance with Min Ho. His breaths are almost a perfect count of seven in and seven out, which means he is doing that for a reason. 
When he looks at you again, those forest green eyes are dark and piercing. It’s like time freezes; unlike his even breaths, yours seems to be caught. You can see so many emotions moving behind those eyes, but they are flashing so fast, and you don’t know him well enough to tell what they are before they are gone. 
“Prime Alpha, sir, ma’am, your car is here,” says Jen. Startling you like she came out of thin air. Smiling at Jen and moving towards the car, you hear Namjoon speak with her in hushed tones. 
Now that you can breathe again, you take some cleansing breaths before you climb into the car and buckle up. Scenting is simple. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. 
You are in a car, for god’s sake. 
As you smooth out your skirt, Namjoon gets in on the other side of the car. Careful not to touch you, he turns to face you, his calculating eyes searching your form. You can hear Jen get in the front, but the partition is up.
Licking your lips out of nerves, you hear a low growl next to you. Suddenly, the world outside the car looks fantastic as the car starts the drive back. 
“Y/n.”
Hearing your name said in Alpha Joon’s deepened voice causes your heart to flutter and your eyes to close. You said scenting was okay, and YOU offered to do it in the car. You weren’t raised to go back on your word, nor have you ever left someone in need. 
Since Namjoon is a temporary pack for you, you couldn’t deny a packmate a scenting session. It must be the Luna part of you that wouldn’t let you.
“Alpha,” you breathe out, finally looking at him. 
The stillness in his body and the focus of his attention is something that only a predator hybrid like him can have. It almost pains you to see him so closed off and far away.
“Bergamot and sugar waves,” he says with a slight tilting of his head. “You want to scent but are scared of me.”
At his words, you realize just what you have had to have been putting him through while walking from the dance floor till now. Your scent must have been a swirling chaos. 
“Not exactly, Alpha,” you vaguely answer the nonexisting question. “I am not scared of you.” 
While his shoulders drop as his tense leaves his body, his eyes narrow in further contemplation as he asks, “What of?”
“None of it is something you have to worry about, Alpha,” you smile, trying to convey that you are physically fine even if your scent says otherwise. 
“Mine,” Alpha Joon says, closing his eyes, tilting his head back and swallowing. “Worry for mine is my job. Now, what of?”
Mine. Mine. He keeps calling you “mine,” which sends a shiver down your spine every time he says it. You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to not fall into the delusion that you are his, but you want to not argue with someone as powerful as a Prime Alpha. 
“I don’t know how to give you what you need,” you answer his question in the most roundabout but truthful way possible. Your answer seems to bring his attention back to you, but it is laced with confusion this time. 
“Jungkook scents with his chin, Yoongi scents with his cheeks, but Jin and Jimin seem to do it with touching. I don’t know what you need,” you try to clarify.
Realization dawns on his face. You can practically see the times the two of you have been near each other flash in his mind’s eye before his face falls into a pout. You can’t help but giggle at his pouty face, which draws his attention to you again, and he pouts harder. 
“I am sorry, Alpha,” you say, then clear your throat. “I, ah, thought that there might be a certain way a Prime Alpha or a wolf may need to scent. I am still wrapping my head around all the different ways. As a Luna of my pack, I typically scent the others.”
“Wolf scenting wrist and licks,” Alpha Joon says, looking down at his own wrists.
“Oh! Jin licked me!” you exclaim. “Well, he licked then bit me,” you continued, looking at the inside of your wrist to see if there was a mark. 
Rubbing over the area where Seokjin licked fills the air with more of your scent. The bergamot is still present but lessened, alerting Alpha Joon that you are starting to relax into the present. 
Moving slowly, telegraphing his goal, Alpha Joon takes hold of the hand you were inspecting. He rubs your wrists together with his free hand, causing his leather and vanilla to join in the mix. 
He can tell when his scent hits you because your whole body loses its tension. The hand he is holding becomes weightier in his grip. A soft smile plays on his lips with pride that you are not rejecting his skinship, scent, or bond as he says, “Wolves satisfied with this. Alphas need more. It’s our nature.”
“Alphas? Or Prime Alphas?” You swallow before also asking, “More how?”
His eyes trail up your arm, and it feels like fire is licking your skin. They still at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before continuing, pausing along your jaw, then settling their journey when they lock with yours.
“Alphas prefer other areas. Only ours allow intimate,” says Alpha Joon.
Heat flashes through your body and pools low in your abdomen with the memory of Alpha Kook and his ministrations to your neck. 
Breaking eye contact, you blush as you say, “I see. It makes sense.”
“Prime Alpha, more demanding. Addthreat of taking mine,” Alpha Joon growls out. 
Your eyes snap back to him with a furrowed brow as you question, “Taken from you? No one in their right mind would do that right now, would they?”
“Bobcat, try tonight,” says Alpha Joon, his voice dripping with a possessive tone.
Oh. OH, that is right. This whole scenting thing was because Lee Min Ho danced with you. You mentally smack your forehead against a wall. 
“Min Ho, he would not actually do anything. He was being a good sport and dancing with me,” you try to brush off his concern.
“No,” he says sternly. “Friends with Tae-ah… must be nice. Bobcat natural wolf enemy.”
This information, combined with the newly understood gravity of the game Lee Min Ho was playing with Namjoon while using you as the pawn, changes everything. 
Your scent changes from the bergamot of fear to the mint of anger, distinguished by the look on your face and the clench of your jaw. 
“Mad now?” Alpha Joon says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. The change in your demeanor shows him that you, at best, want to be his and, at least, don't want others to play around like that.
“Yes, I am mad now. How can someone do that to you?” you say with an attitude-driven shake of your head.
Your response wasn’t what he was expecting. He wasn’t quite sure how to take it. He wanted to be proud because his newest mate was looking out for him, but she wasn’t necessarily looking out for herself.
“Wonder what Taehyung will think of his friend’s actions. I don’t think he will like them, but that is to be dealt with later,” you say with resolve. 
Looking back at the man beside you, the resolve shows as your scent changes, yet again, with a hint of lemon: “What do you need to fix what he has done?”
His eyes are still set on your form, and he says, “Cover.”
“Cover? I thought you said he didn’t leave anything?” you press, leaning forward, trying to figure out what he needs to feel like his personal world is safe again. “Tell me, Alpha. What exactly will you cover?”
The direct question of a dominant feeling mate has Alpha Joon squirming a little. 
He wants to put you in your place as Prime Alpha, show you, and not tell you what he needs. He also wants to kneel at your feet and let you lean into your Luna so that he can let go of the tension he is holding because he trusts you to care for him—the dominant leader versus the submissive lover.
Maybe he can be both?
“Cover his touch,” Alpha Joon clarifies. A flash of shock or fear or nerves flash across your face as he continues, “I saw some, not all.”
“Oh, I see.” Thinking of all the places the sneaky bobcat touched, your hand pulls out of Alph Joon’s as you say, “That is going to be hard to do in a car. That and you don’t know how to tango, Alpha.”
Quickly, Alpha Joon shakes his head, “No dancing. Only scenting touch.” He looks around the back of the car, thinking of how to put what he has to say.
“Dress scented at Gala,” he says with a slight hilt to his voice. You nod, trying to follow along with him. 
His eyes flick between your neck and thigh, “Now skin scent happens.”
It’s like you get doused with water and lit on fire simultaneously. Touching like one does in the Tango feels astronomically different when the same touch is done while not dancing. There is no way that you will not vibrate out of your skin and panic if Alpha Joon continues to look at you like prey while touching you in all the places Lee Min Ho did. 
You will lose yourself and not in a good way. 
What did your therapist Ryan say to do when this happens? What would Derek and Evie say to do?
Control it. Take the reins and drive the motions. Find ways to grant permission for the next step, next touch, and next level of scenting, but will a Prime Alpha accept that? 
Can you control a Prime Alpha?
“Overthinking,” Alpha Joon interrupts your thoughts. 
“Sorry, Alpha,” you quickly say.
Taking a breath, you calm your thoughts and focus on the you who can be in charge of hybrids. The you that allows your family pack to feel safe and cared for. The you that loves hybrids more than most humans. 
“Luna,” Alpha Joon states when your sweet pea, bergamot, and vanilla scent starts to weave in the car with a more pungent tang of lemon. 
“Yes, you may call me that. I won’t go back on my word. I will allow you, Alpha Joon, to calm yourself and settle your instincts by scenting my skin,” you inform him.
Smiling, the Alpha makes to pull you to him. However, you stop him with a single click of your tongue. Unbuckling yourself, you unclasp your cape, then angle your body toward him and settle your gaze on him, “Do we have an understanding, Alpha Joon? If not, you will have to wait until the pack can help settle you.”
Shaking his head almost violently, his eyes widen in panic at the thought of you not being the one to settle him. Rubbing his palms on his pants, he looks away from your eyes and turns slightly to show his neck. 
He is submitting to you. It's not a complete submission. Still, it’s a step that makes you feel safe and allows you to be bold enough to keep going. Taking his hands in yours, you squeeze them in reassurance.
Shifting to the middle seat, the split in your dress widens. Flashing skin from your mid-thigh down, which draws his attention. It’s the same leg, the thigh and knee, where the bobcat hybrid held you in the dip as he trailed his nose along your skin at the neck.
“Eyes on me, Alpha,” you command, snapping his attention back to your face. 
“Min Ho held me in a classic hold, starting with a hand on my upper back while cradling my braced hand in his,” you inform as you slide your hand up his arm to his shoulder. “You may hold me that way as well.”
You had thought the Alpha would jump with permission to touch you. This is where you were mistaken. You may be calling the shots, but he was and is a Prime Alpha. 
Changing his grip on your braced wrist, he brings it up like he remembered from watching you. Slowly, his other hand reaches your side and slides around your waist to trail up your spine, then rests between your shoulder blades. The movement brings your body closer to him. 
You wait.
Nothing happens.
You smile gently. “Good Alpha, you are following directions,” you praise him before you lean forward, entering his personal space even more. 
“Classic Tango steps don’t have as much body contact as one would think. It’s all about flashy steps with kicks and flicks. But Lee Min Ho told me he was putting on a show, which changes things.”
Alpha Joon's face is full of confusion as he tries to hold you just as instructed, but you keep coming closer. Your scent is invading. Mixing his scent with yours settles something profound within Alpha Joon’s soul. 
The words ‘keep in control’ repeat in your mind, almost creating their own tune as you try to maneuver yourself into the next hold used by the bobcat hybrid. As you lean in, you run your arm back down Alpha Joon’s and push it against the seat's backrest.
“Don’t move,” you instruct him.
“Yes, Luna,” he agrees, hinting a slight rumble. You pause momentarily, waiting to see if that rumble becomes something more. You continue when nothing happens, and his eyes remain on your face. 
Shifting to an angle facing you away from him, a whimper sounds but is cut off quickly. Glancing back up at the Alpha, his cheeks are dusted pink. It seems the Prime Alpha shocked himself with that sound.  
Now, you are sitting with your back to his front but not touching. You clasp his free hand in yours and lock your fingers with his. Your braced hand grabs the wrist resting against the seat and guides it to your stomach. 
Thank heavens that he cannot see your face now. Maintaining your posture is one thing, but not reacting to the heat emanating from him while his hand softly glides into place over your dress is not something you can control. 
It feels nerve-racking but in the best of ways. Wait…what is going on with you? You shouldn’t be reacting like this. He is mated. You didn’t act like this with Jin, did you? 
You know what it is… it’s because of this morning. That’s right, with the shirtlessness, the feeding, the nesting room, all the suits… it’s that. 
There is nothing wrong with you. 
Nada.
You just happen to be stuck in a packhouse with wildly attractive younger hybrid men who know they can make almost every woman, even some men, creme their jeans with a savvy smile. They are just flirty, like Derek and Lily. That’s all.
“Wrong,” a deep voice comes close to your ear as you are pulled backward, making your body fall against the wolf behind you and stealing your breath. “Hold like this, he did.”
“Yes, that is correct, Alpha Joon,” you agree with your eyes closed. His firm chest against your back has a warmth that is encompassing you. Your control of the situation is slipping; maybe you never had control in the first place. 
“Next touch, Luna?” he asks with his breath brushing your skin. 
Right next touch… next touch… what was next. Oh. Your eyes open and dart to your knee. Min Ho took you into a dip with his hand on your thigh near your knee. Well, there are two ways to do this. Robotically and cold or intimately and warm. Again, it’s about keeping control.
“I don’t know, Alpha. Can you be good and follow directions, or will you move Luna as you wish, like you just did?” you question.
Almost immediately, Alpha Joon tries to retreat but has nowhere to go. You are still holding his wrist and interlacing your fingers. He has become trapped between you and the door. 
“Ah, uhah! Words, Alpha Joon,” you chide softly.
“Sorry, Luna,” the trapped Alpha says. “No more. I will follow.”
“Good, now only touch where I guide you, got it?” you ask to get the extra reassurance that you are again back in some semblance of control.
“Yes, Luna,” agrees the wolf hybrid.
Leaning against him more, you bring your knee up through the slit in the dress. Breathe in and out, staying in control. Covering the hand on your stomach with your braced hand, you tap it twice and move back towards your waist. You smile when his hand moves to stay under yours. 
Once at your waist, you slide both of your hands down to your hip and over the top of your thigh– slowly. Basking in the warmth of his hand over the dress felt terrific, but you practically melted when the heat of his hand graced your bare skin. 
Your body automatically responds with a blanket of goosebumps and a pool of dampness between your legs. It’s tantalizing and something you haven’t felt in years. 
Behind you, a soft, almost growling purr kicks up in Alpha Joon’s chest at being able to feel you without a barrier. 
You continue to guide his hand to the bend of your knee, and as firmly as you can, you say, “Min Ho sent me into a dip and secured me by holding my thigh near my knee.”
In a gravel-filled voice, Alpha Joon says, “I saw. May I?”
“Yes,” you say, a bit breathier than you would have wanted.
Keeping at the pace you had set, Alpha Joon’s hand slides out from under yours, farther down your leg, and to the outer side. His fingers are splayed out as they clasp under your thigh at the back of your knee and squeeze. 
You, luckily, were able to control your body from jerking at the electric zing of arousal that courses through your system like his is cupping and squeezing something much more private. 
However, luckily for the hybrid behind you, your scent flashed into a heady mix of sugar, sweet peas, and vanilla. If Alpha Joon hadn’t already been affected by the scenting up to this point, he was now. His mind reeling with thoughts of what you would smell like on a night of passion.
Buzz Buzz
A huff leaves the Alpha as he answers the intercom from Jen, “Yes, Jen?”
“Sorry to interrupt, Prime Alpha, but we have been sitting at the packhouse for a few minutes,” she says timidly. Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t know if you wanted the others to know you are here. However, someone keeps peeking out one of the windows.”
“Thank you, Jen. We will head inside now,” Alpha Joon informs her, releasing his hold on your leg and letting go of your hand. A blush comes over you as you realize just how into the moment the two of you had become.
Alpha Joon exits the car as you return to your original side and put on the cape again. As you are reaching for the door, it opens. You smile at the gentlemanly act Alpha Joon is showing you.
Getting out of the car, you accept his hand to help you keep steady. Smiling, you turn to thank him, “Oh. Namjoon, Thank you. I take it Alpha Joon was satisfied with the scent and stopped fronting?”
Pulling you softly and guiding your hand to lock around his arm, he leads you towards the pack house. Shaking his head, he says, “Not exactly. We are in our territory now, and no one can take you from us here.”
“Ah, I see. I am sorry the scenting wasn’t enough. I promise I will learn more to improve,” you rapidly reply, your heart sinking at the thought that you failed to comfort the Prime Alpha. 
He stops at the front door, your words halting him. “You misunderstand, Angel. You were scenting and allowed our scenting just fine. However, due to arriving at the packhouse already, we could not complete the covering, and he, well we, didn’t think you would be comfortable enough to continue.”
“Couldn’t complete?” you question as you try to replay the dance. Your eyes widen when it hits you: “My neck. Wait. Why would I not be comfortable after the whole car ride?”
“The packhouse is where it went downhill, and I could have lost you. I could have lost you for the pack. I don’t deserve your attention here, Luna,” answers Namjoon, not once looking at you during his explanation. 
He is avoiding being himself because of that one misstep. You still haven’t forgiven him… entirely… but you aren’t mean-hearted. It may take a while for you to be comfortable with him regarding unannounced scenting sessions or the random hugs that some others do, but it is planned right now.
“I umm… I know you are one and the same, so he is always there, and I don’t know if this is possible, but can I talk to Alpha Joon, please?” you ask tentatively, trying to regain his attention.
He finally looks at you, his eyes curious and cautious. Slowly, they bleed from the outside in with the forest green of Namjoon’s hybrid side. 
“Hello again, Alpha Joon. Your presence has been frequent tonight, and I am glad you fronted at my request. Thank you, Alpha,” you begin, trying to convey that you are in a good mindset and not panicking or upset. He nods; his curiosity and nervousness are evident in his face and body tension. 
“I may not be happy with how my position was proposed, but I will not let that affect your ability to be who you are– the Prime Alpha Wolf-Hybrid of Bangtan Pack.” 
He shakes his head, starting to deny that any further action is required when you step closer. You tilt your head to the side and back, barring the area that Lee Min Ho had traced.  You watch his attention drop to your neck from the corner of your eye, and a sneer flashes on his face before he closes his eyes to collect himself.
You will for whatever calming, reassuring scent you have to push out, not that you even know what you are doing. Softly asking, “Please finish, Prime Alpha.”
Unknown to you, your scent follows your wishes as the vanilla of the mate bond blooms with your sweet pea. It washes over the Prime Alpha as your bond solidifies more. His vanilla and leather respond in kind and blanket you. For a moment, you both bask in the scents surrounding you. The natural reaction of being near one’s fated mate unfurls. 
Driving on almost pure instinct, Alpha Joon closes the gap. His warm, large hands grip your waist and hold you in place. His eyes are sharply watching each and every micro-expression on your profile.
It was like your brain went offline the second you became physically connected. Your arms find their place around his shoulders, sinking your good hand into the locks of silky hair at the base of his neck. Your body tingles at the feel of your front pressed with his, making every breath like a soft caress. 
The soft puff of breath on your jawline causes you to pause. The first touch of his lips on your skin releases you from your hold. His soft, measured kisses trailing your jaw to the base of your ear feel like nothing you have felt before. 
Somewhere in your mind, alarm bells go off because this feels like more than just a scenting session. The rest of you, the part with the control now, is letting go and basking in the moment.  It feels like so much, but not enough at the same time.
A gentle flick of his tongue on your earlobe triggers a shiver down your spine and a soft, almost inaudible but needy sound to escape you. 
Whispering in your ear, Alpha Joon says, “I have you, Luna. Always will.”
Those simple words feel like a world of promises. 
Adjusting his hold on you, one hand going to the back of your head to angle you into a deeper bend while the other is securing you around the waist, Alpha Joon continues his scenting of your neck. 
His plush lips feel like feathers gliding along tantalizingly. Warm and playful kisses leave a trail of embers in tandem. Nothing lasts as every movement, marking, and pressure point is brief. 
Your mind battles between wanting to stop before you go too far, angering his bonded mates, and needing something more but what you don’t know. You are in uncharted territory now. Scenting your family pack NEVER felt like this. Hell, making out with Eric never felt like this. 
“Alpha,” you whine, not entirely sure you know what you are whining for.
THUD
Muffled scuffling is heard with pained noises and an “Ow, that was my tail!”
It’s like a bucket of ice gets poured over you, snapping your senses back into reality. The once comforting and secure hold you were relaxed into becomes a cage. The lingering feel of his kisses now burns like a hot branding iron. Within seconds, your skin pales, and your scent disappears. 
Looking up at Alpha Joon, you see him glaring at the door. Taking advantage of his distraction, you push out of his hold. Stumbling back against the front door. Even more scampering is heard, along with a few colorful words, as your unknown audience races to hide somewhere inside the pack house.
His glare softens as he looks at you; his jaw is still set, and his fists are clenched at his sides. As the seconds pass, it registers with the Alpha that you have closed off everything. Silently, he curses whoever was just behind the door.
“Y/n,” he says, stepping forward, unclenching his hands, and reaching for yours. His eyes blend back to their deep brown as he scrambles to find a way to fix this.
“Thank you for tonight, Alpha. It seems your mates are waiting for you,” you say. Taking one last look at the man who stole your inhibitions and released the ardor you thought you had lost, you grab the door handle. Bowing, you feel your heart clench, and your throat tighten as you whisper, “Good night, Namjoon.” 
Before he can say anything or do anything, you are inside the packhouse and in your room. You close the door with a slam and fall against it. 
For the first time in forever, you allow yourself to cry. No, not cry, but weep. Weep for what you don’t know. Was it getting caught with Namjoon? Was it for falling out of a position of control? Was it for the child you lost? Was it for every heartbreak you have experienced?
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The packhouse is silent.
You know the pack must have heard you, but you don’t have enough left to acknowledge that right now. With stiff limbs, you stand up and make your way to the bathroom, taking off your heels along the way and leaving them wherever they land. Your earrings end up on the bathroom counter, at least. 
Getting ready for bed, washing your face, and the rest of the routine are robotic. Walking back into the bedroom, you make to climb into your bed, but what you see stops you in your tracks. There is a carefully made nest against the wall– Jimin. 
He mentioned that he might make a nest for you to come home to. You sit on the edge of the mattress to observe the time and attention that went into making it. The center is filled with pillows of different sizes. The wall is covered with even more to protect you from its hardness. You note the intricate weaving of blankets around the edge in seven colors. 
It’s a clear representation of their mate-bonded pack. It’s perfect, just like they are. Crawling in the middle of it will ruin it. 
You already have ruined enough tonight. 
Looking around the room, you decided to sleep in the sitting window. Curling into yourself, making yourself as small as you can, you cry again, but this time, the sobs are silent, and the tears are dry.
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Constant commentary flowed as they watched others on the carpet before the two of you were first spotted. The world seems to slow once they see you– their newest mate. You looked every bit the perfect mate they knew you were. 
You were wise with your choice of words. You knew when to speak up or let Namjoon guide the conversation. Your smile and giggles made each one wish they were with you instead of their Prime Alpha. 
It wasn’t left unnoticed how you seemed to charm everyone, gaining flirtatious comments from interviewers and even the occasional unwarranted extended hugs from other stars. How Namjoon kept his cool was beyond everyone else. 
Maybe it was a good idea that he was the only one there. 
Taehyung was already making a mental list of all the people to disregard in future interviews for disrespecting their claim on you. He wasn’t the only one. As a pack of Alphas, it was nearly impossible for them not to want to bite off anyone’s hand that touched you. 
“She is doing really well,” comments Hoseok. He was worried the most because of your insecurities about being photographed. Having experienced self-image issues in the past, he knows how hard they are to deal with.
“I think her team was constructive with that aspect. They made getting ready for this event so much fun for her,” Yoongi says. 
Jungkook nods in agreement, “They were talking about trying to find a way to make Bethany Ann’s team her permanent prep team for events and such.”
“Really? She liked them that much?” asked Seokjin, grabbing his phone and texting Manager Sejin to demand this assignment happen ASAP if it hasn’t happened already.
“Yeah. How long do you think they will be there? Joonie-ah normally only stays long enough to let everyone know he was there and then comes home,” Yoongi asks.
A chorus of replies came, all pointing out the same fact– no one had a clue. 
This prompted Jimin to bolt out of Hoseok’s arm, yelling as he went, “Everyone, get me a heavily scented blanket and whatever pillow you want Y/n to have in her nest!”
Confusion fell over most of the remaining pack. Taehyung and Jungkook were the only ones to get up as if they knew what was happening.
“Jinnie-hyung, can you grab the stuff in the dryer?” asked the youngest mate.
“Sure, as soon as you tell me what Jimin is doing with Y/n’s nest,” responded Seokjin, as everyone stopped moving to listen. 
Looking around, Jungkook could see that the hyung line was all clueless. “Oh, Y/n was breaking down her nest this morning and wanted to return our items because it didn’t feel right anymore.”
Yoongi moved forward, asking, “What do you mean to return them? She doesn’t want our scents?”
“Nooo, that isn’t it. She… her mom wouldn’t let her keep up her ‘blanket fort,’” he said, using air quotes. “So, she was tearing it down at 7 am. Tae Tae-hyung and Jimin-hyung, we all talked to her about it. Turns out, she was giving it back because she thought they needed to be cleaned and didn’t smell right.”
“But what is Jimin doing?” prompts Seokjin, still looking for the answer to his question.
Bouncing on his feet, Jungkook says, “She said Jimin could build her a proper nest to come home to because she might be too worn out to make it herself.”
A mixture of shock and giddiness spread across the rooms, followed by chaos. Everyone was practically running upstairs to find and scent the perfect blanket. Seokjin got the drying and called everyone to get what was theirs. 
Meanwhile, Jimin took the regular bedding down to your den and started getting to work. It was typical for Jimin to take the lead on making the nests for the pack, but what wasn’t expected was for Jimin to prevent anyone from helping. Anytime one of his mates came near the bed, Jimin would growl. 
“Jimin-hyung, I was the one who figured it out in the first place. I can be here and help,” whined Jungkook. 
Jungkook had heard your restlessness the first night and fixed it with little help. By all means, Jungkook was now the Alpha responsible for ensuring your sleeping needs were being met. 
With a deep growl, Jimin refused to let him come any closer. By now, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok had all gathered to watch the exchange. Curiosity peaked at the unusual behavior of their normally docile tiny mate. 
“Jimin-ah, Kookie is right. His Alpha has taken this responsibility, and you really shouldn’t deny it,” Yoongi says, trying to inject some logic into this situation. 
The increased intensity of Jimin’s growl was unexpected. Not only was growling difficult for a Red Panda hybrid to make, but it was also typically saved for dangerous situations. The room fell silent, aside from Jimin, and the Alphas stepped back. None of them wanted to challenge Jimin regarding his drive to make a nest for their new mate, but his actions were not welcomed or appropriate as far as the rest were concerned. 
After a stalemate of what to do, a bouncing Taehyung joined them. “Hey, are we gonna keep… What’s going on here?” asked the tiger as he took in the tenseness of the room. It is clear to him that it’s everyone against Jimin right now, but why?
“Hyung won’t let me help get Y/n’s bed ready when she comes home to sleep. It’s my area to care for,” whines Jungkook, his ears drooping low with sadness. 
Walking into the room further, Jimin’s growl lessens as his attention is now on the tiger, but it still hasn’t completely gone away. Raising his eyebrow at Jimin, Taehyung sees that the nest isn’t complete, and Jungkook still holds his scented blanket.
“I think you guys are getting it wrong,” comments Taehyung, turning his back to Jimin and pulling everyone else’s attention. “Hoseok-hyung, you were there when Y/n agreed to build a nest for her. What did you offer?”
Scrunching his brow, Hoseok answers, “I said we could replace what she needed, and Jimin could build her a nest.”
Taehyung waits to see if they catch on, but when seconds go by and no one connects the dots, he says, “You offered her a nest built by Jimin. Only Jimin. She said she would love to come home to a nest built by Jimin.”
“It’s a charge,” says Seokjin with understanding. “Jimin is charged with making a nest for Y/n before she gets home. Jungkook, give Jimin the blanket, and then we all need to leave.”
Thumping his foot in protest, the bunny hybrid whines, “Buuut Hyung…”
“No. This isn’t about sleeping. It’s about a nest. Jimin has always been responsible for the pack’s nest, and that won’t stop now,” corrects Seokjin.
“Wait, Jungkook, look at the nest Jimin is building. Is there anything you or Jimin think the nest could need more of to help provide a proper nest and comfort for sleeping?” offers Yoongi.
Jimin and Jungkook take in the nest as the youngest hands over his blanket, taking in the number of blankets and pillows. Jimin starts to weave the new blanket into the rest around the edge. 
“Namjoon’s scent is not as strong as the rest of ours,” says Jungkook. Looking at Jimin, he waits for his thoughts on the comment to which Jimin starts counting. After double-checking that he is only counting six blankets, Jimin nods at Jungkook.
“Will you be okay if I got you his blanket and maybe another pillow of his for the nest you are making for Y/n, Jimin-hyung?” tentatively asks the youngest Alpha. 
Jimin makes a squeaking noise as he undoes the nest wall to make it better once the Prime Alpha’s blanket is brought down. Noticing that no one has moved, he jumps off the bed and pushes everyone out. His antics are met with laughing and teasing by the hyungs.
It takes Jungkook and Jimin almost two hours to complete the nest. Well, actually, it takes Jimin two hours to make it while Jungkook turns into his personal errand boy. Jungkook has been sent to have different mates at more scent to items or change it out for something different because it feels wrong.
All of the mates don’t complain or argue about the requests. They are grateful that their Jiminnie is slowly returning to himself, and their new mate is the only one to thank for this change.
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Seokjin, having already had a date with you, retired for the night. He had seen you in a dress, felt your skin against his, and basked in your body's heat.  While he would love to experience those all again, he would be patient and wait his turn.
That patience was nowhere to be found in Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung. Each of them took turns checking the driveway for some indication that you were almost here. When the car had pulled up, the three of them were practically glued to the window. 
It wasn’t until Yoongi yelled at them to stop being creepy and wait for you to make it inside the door that they stopped their window-watching. Chuckling at their actions, Yoongi and Jungkook left them to bombard you as they also turned in for the night. 
However, when some time passed, and you both were not in their presence, they grew restless again. Using their hybrid skills of being sneaky and light-footed, Hoseok and Taehyung make it to the door. Leaning against the door, they catch the conversation on the other side. 
Doing their best to tamp down their scents and not interrupt, the two of them listen to the rustle of clothes, the sounds of increased breathing, soft and uncontrollable moans of desire, and the smell of an intimate scenting session. 
They are giddy at their Prime Alpha's progress with the newest mate. Taehyung’s tail curled and uncurled on the floor in anticipation of being able to elicit the same reactions from you. 
THUD
A sharp pain flies up Taehyung’s tail as he hisses, turning around to see that Jimin, in all his clumsiness, has fallen off the hall bench and landed on Taehyung’s tail, crushing it with his knee. Jimin freezes while Hoseok scrambles from the door and hurdles upstairs, taking multiple steps at a time. 
“Ow, that was my tail!” Taehyung screeches. 
THUMP
The front door rattles.
“Shit. 빨리 가다,” bitingly says Taehyung, pulling Jimin along the way, who is whispering apologies the whole way. Meanwhile, Tae curses in every language he knows because he caught you turning off your scent.
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Namjoon scent could be smelled down the hall. It was a mix of anger, annoyance, lust, and despair. Your scent was nowhere to be found. Jimin had tried to find comfort with Hoseok, but he only said to wait till the morning to see what repairs were needed. 
That wasn’t acceptable.
He tried to peek into Jungkook’s bedroom to see if he knew what to do, but the youngest Alpha was nowhere to be found. Jimin went to your den’s door to see if he could hear anything. Maybe if he knew you were slumbering away, he could calm down. However, he did not hear the even, slow breaths of someone sleeping. It was the staccato breaths and sniffles of someone crying. How did he not hear them until now? 
Were you a master of hiding your tears as well as your scent?
What does he do now?
With how the shadows moved along the bottom of the door, Jimin knew you were leaning against it. He couldn’t open it, or he would hit you. Did you want someone to come and comfort you? 
Why had you just crumpled at the door? 
Did Taehyung and his actions at the door bother you that much? 
Not knowing how to make anything better but unwilling to leave you alone, Jimin sat against the wall next to your door. He sends out his calming orange scent with a hint of vanilla, hoping it will slow your tears. 
He is reserved to stay there all night if he has to.
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Should he knock now? 
What are you doing?
Will you finally seek comfort in the nest he carefully made for you?
After hearing the sounds of water and more rustling of clothes, Jimin realizes that you are getting ready for bed. You shuffle around the room for a moment. Then he can hear you get on the bed… wait, you walk again.
Where are you going?
What’s on the other side of the room?
At the sound of your renewed staccato breathing far away from his nest, Jimin joins you in your silent cries from the hallway. Thoughts of failing to build a proper nest, thoughts of ruining things for you with Namjoon, and thoughts of you rejecting the mate bond taunt him behind your closed door. 
He will fix this. 
He will be the first mate you see when you wake up. He will find out what is wrong and correct it. He has to, and he will make Tae help.
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“Of course, Mama. I won’t make it again,” you say with tears in your eyes.
“You are just an attention whore,” a male voice says.
You shake your head, “No, no! I thought if I did it… I just wanted you to like me.”
Another female voice sounds off. “He only keeps you around because you are easier and warmer than a blow-up doll. " 
Wiping off your face from the lunch they just dumped on you, the sounds of the cafeteria’s laughter making you dizzy. “He said he loved me.”
“Just act like a normal human being, Y/n. Then maybe you won’t be so pathetic,” the older woman says, pulling you by your hair and throwing you in the closet. “Now, stay there and reflect. Don’t you ever tell a soul.”
“Meemaw! No, let me out, please! Don’t leave me here!” Your cries go unanswered for days, all because you cuddled on the couch with Evie and three of her brothers in a Kitty pile.
“Why would I want a child with you? I’d rather you die.” Eric’s voice goes on repeat.
That’s when the pain starts. 
You feel the slaps across your face, the kicking of your stomach, the snapping of your ankle, your lungs filling with water, and the never-ending feeling of falling down the stairs.
“Y/n!” You hear your voice being called and know that more torment is coming. Your body starts to shake.
“Y/n, baby, 내꺼. Please, wake up. Naekkeo,” a pleading voice breaks through the hazy of the nightmare you are having. 
Still being shaken by someone’s hands, you sit up like a shot, and panic that you are going to get hurt floods your system. Your eyes are wide, unseeing of what is around you, causing your eyes to dart around the room, looking for danger. It isn’t until hands hold your face and force you to look at the person sitting next to you. You see Jimin with worry, pain, and so much more etched on his face. 
“Y/n, Naekkeo, you are safe at the packhouse. I have you,” he says gently but with surety. His eyes never leave yours, the orange and vanilla scent falling over you like a blanket. 
“Ji..Jimin?” you clarify, grabbing his hands to ensure he is real. Tears falling again, you launch yourself into his arms. “Jimin, it was a nightmare, right?”
Caught off by suddenly having his new mate in his arms, he is lucky that the instinct to protect you is so strong, or both of you might have ended up on the floor. Scooting to sit correctly in the window seat, he pulls you into a more secure hold. Wrapping his arms around your trembling form, he puts your head on his shoulder and rocks slowly.
“Yes, Naekkeo. It was all a nightmare. You’re not hurt,” Jimin reaffirms by pulling you a faction closer. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble against his neck as tears wet his pajama shirt. 
“No, nightmares are not something to be sorry about. Something causes them to happen, and it is beyond your control. Do you have them often?” he asks.
“Not really. I haven’t had them in a while, but they still come,” you answer. “They usually last a lot longer than this.”
“Not anymore. We won’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.” He hears you take a breath to say something, but he cuts you off, saying, “Don’t worry about us missing out on sleep or something like that. We will lose more sleep if you know you are going through this without us helping you.”
He feels you relax more in his hold. Brushing your hair out of your eyes, Jimin looks at you again with a soft smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You shake your head and clarify, “I think I should tell Bangtan pack together. I already explained some to Namjoon, but…”
“You only want to say it once,” Jimin finishes your sentence. “Makes sense, but can I ask you a question?”
Sitting up more and attempting to pull slightly out of his hold only gets you held in place firmer. Surprisingly, you don’t feel the need to tense up. Instead, it warms your soul that your nightmares aren’t detouring him and that he still wants to be the friend he promised initially. 
“What is your question?” you prompt.
You see his eyes flick up and then back down to you, his eyes distant, like he is trying to find the right words. A moment later, he looks you dead in the eye, alerting your mind, and asks, “Why did you not sleep in the nest I made for you?”
“The nest?” you asked, still slightly out of it because of the nightmares.
Timidly, Jimin bites his bottom lip and nods to the bed, “Did I not make it well enough?”
Glancing to the bed, you see the nest again. It’s then your scent comes crashing back. Your sweet pea is slightly moldy, hinting at perfume tones and a splash of bergamot.
Jimin instantly sends soothing scents and rubs your back, saying, “It’s okay if you don’t like it. Everyone likes them in different ways.”
“It’s not that, Jimin. It’s lovely,” you say looking back at the Alpha holding you with a smile filled with sadness and longing. “It’s perfect. I didn’t want to ruin it.”
Confusion fills Jimin’s face, looking between you and the bed. His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he huffs. Without another thought, Jimin stands, cradling you to his chest, one arm across your back and the other hooking under your knees.
“Jimin! Jimin, put me down. I weigh like 1,000 pounds,” you say in high-pitched but hushed tones, trying not to wake up the rest of the house. 
It's like your mind wants to get out of his grasp, but your body never wants to let go, which is why you have a vice grip on his shoulders despite your words.  
A soft but low growl comes from him. Looking down at you, with a now deadpan face, he says, “I am an Alpha. I was made to pick you up no matter what. How would I be able to protect, hold, and comfort you if I couldn’t?”
Stilling in his arms, you take in the feeling of his engaged but not straining shoulder under your grip. Finally, he starts walking again towards the nest. You watch his face in slightly shocked awe. There is no trembling, no sweat on his brown, no indication that you are too much for him. You are dropped inside the nest before you can question and unpack this new information.
“Jimin,” you whine, only for him to sit outside and level you with a firm look.
“I made this for you. Jungkook helped a little, but each Bangtan packmate contributed a blanket and at least one pillow to add to your nest. Do you want to know why?” asked the red panda hybrid.
Still, in a semi-balled-up fetal position, you are covered in a multitude of scents. You want to know, but you don’t, “Jimin, thank you for making this, but I think… I think…”
“You think we are taking it too far? Think that if you start accepting your situation more, we will hurt you like others in your past?” he questions.
Breaking eye contact, you look at the woven blanket wall of the nest again. Finally, you answer his question, saying, “The seven of you are so tightly woven together that the world knows who all of you are. Most people who dislike K-pop will at least have some idea of who BTS is. I don’t want to ruin anything.”
A chuckle comes from the red panda, “You won’t. It’s impossible.”
Now it's your turn to chuckle: “Oh yeah, sure, that is why you guys had a whole new contract written up. If I were a regular Playmate, I could see you saying that, but…”
“But you are not,” Jimin cuts you off. “That is why nothing will be ruined.” He scoots closer to the wall of the nest and tilts his head, asking, “May I come in? I want to see something.”
You glance at him before looking around again, noting that the nest he made is, technically, big enough for at least one, maybe two more people.
“You can say no. You can say no to all of us. You could have said no to Namjoon-hyung tonight as well,” Jimin states again with total seriousness. 
You can say no, but is it improper to say no?
You can say no, but will you always say no?
You can say no, but did you want to say no? 
With the look in Jimin’s eyes, the scents surrounding you from the nest, and the little voice inside your heart, the answer is No. 
No, it's not improper to say no. 
No, you won’t always say no.
No, you want to say yes.
“You can join me,” you say just above a hushed whisper.
Carefully, with his eyes still locked with yours, Jimin carefully climbs over the nest wall and finds space between the nest wall and you. He lays with his back to the door, facing you. 
Once Jimin settles, your body uncurls and relaxes instinctively. Your braced hand finds the hem of his shirt and holds on as you turn to face him. The other hand bounces between resting on your side to the bed, under your head, and back again.
Telegraphing his intention, Jimin clasps his hand around yours and settles it between you. The breath you had unknowingly held releases, and you breathe in the pack again, this time with Jimin's more robust, fresh scent. 
“There she is. My Naekkeo smells like sweet peas and vanilla again,” smiles Jimin. 
You blush this time at the name Naekkeo. It clicks that Jimin is calling you sweetheart in Korean. He had said it before, but you were so panicked from the nightmare that the translation part of your brain was offline. 
“Y/n, I will be as honest as I can with you. Please listen to everything I have to say before you say anything, and know it is okay not to say anything,” Jimin states with a questioning look. 
You snuggle down into the comfort of the nest and nod at the Alpha. Jimin smiles fondly at your actions as he tries to figure out how to tell you enough but not too much.
“Playmates were forced on Bangtan Pack at the beginning,” he reveals. “PD-nim said if we accepted them, the rest of the industry would accept them. It would save the lives of hybrid Idols from turning feral or losing them to suicide.”
You sucked in a harsh breath but kept quiet, letting him continue.
Swallowing, he says, “We didn’t say no. We didn’t think we could. Our first Playmate came with all the bells, whistles, and services included. She got mad when none of us would touch her. None of us wanted to. She repulsed us with her outright desire that stunk up a city block.
“She even tried to use some of those aphrodisiac chocolates on Jungkook-ah. Once Namjoon-hyung found out, it was war. He went after the Playmate’s company, PD-nim, and even threatened to break our contract with Hybe and BigHit.
“After that, all of our Playmates had the contracts you saw. In fact, most of our playmates were homosexual female-identified, which made it easy because, well, we are all males. Contrary to popular belief, even though we are a male mate-bonded pack, most of us still appreciate the female body and have experience with it.”
You giggle at the random fact. You had figured the pack wasn’t opposed to being with either gender after a few of the songs that Lily showed you. Jimin just raised his eyebrow in question, but you waved him to continue.
Pulling your hand to his chest, he continues, “When you came crashing into our lives, everything changed. Yoongi, Jungkook, Seokjin, and I were the first to realize that you were different. It wasn’t long after that the rest understood that, too.
“We wanted you in our lives before your hand got broken. Actually, Yoongi wanted away from all the Playmate scents so badly that he left the observation room to run right into the reason why.”
Pulling your hand up, he kisses the back softly, then looks at you again before clarifying, “You. None of us see you as a Playmate, Y/n. There is a reason why the contract we took on says there is the option to integrate you into the pack. We are just trying to explore what that means during this time.
“At the end of the contract, we all may better understand what has happened or is happening. Then, together, the eight of us will discuss what happens next. Just remember, you always have the right to say no.”
The silence following is not deafening, but it is heavy. 
You were given so much information all at once. Mostly, you wanted to punch their first Playmate while praising Namjoon for being an incredible Prime Alpha and protecting the pack. That is two Playmates now that you understand need a good old-fashioned ass-whoopin’.
Jimin’s words confirmed what Taehyung and Hoseok had said before you signed the contract. He was there then and agreed, but you still had doubts. How much you want to trust them frustrates you, but you question everything you do.
Maybe it’s not them that you don’t trust.
Maybe you don’t trust– you.
God, your brain has too much going on right now. The plethora of information, the adrenaline of the nightmare wearing off, and the comfort of the nest with Jimin makes you sleepy. Stifling a yawn, Jimin chuckles. 
“I have so much to think about now. Thank you for sharing everything, Jimin,” you say. “I think… I think I want to talk to the pack tomorrow if I can. I need to tell them about my nightmares and my ex and let them know what you told me. Maybe we can all clear a few things up.”
The red panda lets out a quiet, pleased series of little barks, and a bright smile graces his face. “I think that is a beautiful idea, but right now, Naekkeo, you need more sleep,” he agrees and moves to get out of the nest, pulling a whine from you.
It shocks both of you. Jimin looked around to ensure he hadn’t knocked over anything in the nest. Meanwhile, you are blushing at the fact that you literally whined at the thought of Jimin leaving you alone in the nest. 
“Naekkeo?” questions Jimin, still frozen in mid-climb.
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean, I shouldn’t,” you blabber.
Turning back to you, Jimin cradles your face, drawing your eyes to his, prompting, “What do you need? You can ask me anything.”
“Can you… can you stay… in the nest… with me?” you hesitantly question. “I mean, you can also say no. Youhaveyourownbedanddonhavetostay.”
“May I answer before you decide for me?” questions Jimin with a soft chuckle.
“Ah yeah, sorry. I tend to keep…” Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you open them again and say, “Yes, sorry.”
“I would be honored to share your nest tonight,” Jimin says with a heart-melting smile, bringing his hand away from your face. “Where do you want me?”
That paused you… Where did you want him?
Looking at where he was, then where you were, you weren’t sure where else he could go besides where he was now. The confusion must have shown either on your face or your scent because Jimin was trying to hold in his laughter.
Glaring at him playfully, you ask, “What is so funny? Who asks that kind of question? You just lay there and sleep. It’s not me to tell you where you will be comfortable.”
“That isn’t what I meant, Y/n. I meant, like, do you want me against the wall or between you and the bedroom door? Under the covers or over the covers? Big spoon, little spoon, no spoon?” Jimin informs you, watching as each option is said and his heart fluttering at the blush that covers your cheeks at the last three options. 
“Ah… well. You are the Alpha and the protector-ish one between us, so maybe you stay between the door and me where you are now. Not that anything would come to get us in the packhouse, but on principle,” you stammer out.
“Alright, Protector-ish Jimin in place,” he says jokingly as he puffs out his chest. “Now over or under?”
Giggling at his actions, you pull the covers from under you. Snuggling in them, you say, “I can’t sleep without a blanket because I get cold easily. Do you?”
Jimin thinks about it for a few seconds. “Well, I do like to sleep with blankets, but I don’t have to sleep that way if it will make you uncomfortable. However, if I sleep under the covers, it will help warm them and, in turn, warm you.”
Your face drops in a flush of heat as you remember Taehyung’s words, ‘I am sure someone would be willing to warm you up,’ and you warm up all on your own.
“Ah well, I do get cold, and Taehyung said that Alphas were good at keeping warm. … you can be under them if you want,” you say timidly.
Nodding slowly, Jimin slips under the covers. His Alpha pushes him to find ways to keep you comfortable. Since you didn’t give a no and didn’t say anything that could indicate you hated the idea, he would do just as you said. Besides, as Protector-ish Jimin, he couldn’t stand the thought of you being cold while he was this close to you.
Watching you, he can tell you are waiting for him to ask about the last part. So he complies, asking, “Big spoon, small spoon, or no spoon, Naekkeo?”
Your eyes drop to the space between the two of you. Your meemaw’s words hit you again, but then the comfort you felt when cuddling with Evie and Derik followed and finished with the security you felt in Jimin’s arms on the sitting window. 
“You can say no spoon, Y/n. I won’t mind,” he says, a gentle reminder that you have a choice.
“I used to be a big cuddler, but I… I don’t do that much anymore,” you admit with sadness in your tone. “Um, typically only with my family pack. Can we just lay like this for now?”
“Of course. I will always respect your wishes,” smiles Jimin. You search his face for a hint of disappointment or anger but find nothing but his smile of contentment. 
You return his smile, which quickly becomes a rather large yawn. Giggling, you snuggle down farther, then reach out and take his hand with yours, asking, “Is this okay?”
“Y/n, I had you in my lap and offered to be any spoon you wanted. I think I am fine with holding your hand while we sleep,” he teases you. 
“You’re right,” you giggle. “Well, so you know, I am a wiggler and a traveler. I have been known to end up with my head down and my feet up. So, if I get too much, you can wake me up or hold me in place until I stop. Or whatnot. Evie always ends up sleeping on my chest to pin me in place.”
“Hmm, I see. Well, if you turn into a human tornado, then I may have to find a way to tie you up,” he says with his eyes closed, completely missing the shocked look on your face. However, he does take note of your scent turning to honey with arousal. 
Jimin thinks of all the ways Hoseok used his kinbaku and shibari skills as a form of meditation, relaxation, and trust-building practice between them. Maybe Hoseok can use them on you and help you in the same way he helped Jimin with his anxiety and trust issues. 
Either way, the imagery of you in intricately knotted silk or hemp rope makes Jimin very happy that you didn’t choose him to be the big spoon right about now.
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tatoda · 2 years ago
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Seeing you | college!conrad x fem!reader
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!!MINORS DNI!!
request
masterlist
summary: you come to surprise conrad at college on a rainy night
pairing: college!conrad x fem!teader
warnings: SMUT!! fem receiving, piv, conrad pleasing reader, soft sex, male receiving CHARACTERS ARE 18
wc: 2.1K
sorry if it's not really put together but I did try my best sorry if there are any mistakes
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The drive to Brown was horrible tonight. It’s as if it was raining cats and dogs. But you told yourself nothing would stop you from seeing your boyfriend. You had a horrible week back at home. Your sister Belly was making you help her with trigonometry, and the only person you learned from was Conrad but he was busy this whole week with finals. Belly would take up all your free time when you weren’t doing your classes online. You decided to stay home your first 2 years and do online to help with Susannah and your mom as they both were going through a lot. But to your siblings, that just meant you’re always home for them to ask you for anything.
The rain calmed down as you entered the campus. He didn’t know you were coming but he did text you and tell you he has the weekend free to rest until his next final on monday. You wouldn’t be lying if you said that you cried the 3 hours of driving you did and all of connie’s texts were going unanswered so he became worried. He called Steven who told him you were sleeping— he was in on the surprise.
Pulling up to his dorm building you parked the car and grabbed your bag before running through the rain to the entrance. You tried to use the backpack as an umbrella but it didn’t work as your clothes got damp. Walking to the elevator it opened and you clicked the top floor. It felt like the machine was taking forever because he was just a few feet away. And it’s been almost 3 weeks since you saw him last. The sliding doors opened and you speed-walked to his door. Standing in front of it, you knocked breathing out of your mouth.
“coming!” the familiar voice yelled out and the door opened to his beautiful face
“hi.” you softly spoke scared he didn’t want you here but he didn’t say anything just ran and picked you up holding you close to him
“oh my gosh.” his head was in your neck breathing in your scent “you’re here.” he looked back at your teary face
“i missed you.” he wiped a fallen tear
“don’t cry.” he kissed your forehead running his hands through your damp hair “you drove in this rain?” worry struck his face
“i needed to see you.” both his hands cupped your face
“i was so worried when you didn’t answer and then steven said you were sleeping, i didn’t believe him.” he laughed and you shook your head at your young brother
“can i come in?” he moved and let you into the dorm room. his roommate was gone and conrad’s side of the room was neatly made just like he always did in cousins
“my roommate finished his finals so he’s gone.” the door closed behind you as you dropped your bag pealing off your jacket before flopping on his bed “dork.” he chuckled and climbed behind you bringing him towards you. “missed you,” he mumbled
“not possible i missed you more.” you turned around in his arms taking in his face. his thumb slowly drifted across your face
“i’m sorry that i was so busy, i know you were having a hard week.” you shook your head
“just had no time to relax. Belly needed help with trig and it got to a point i couldn’t understand, and then steven called me one night at like three am drunk asking for a ride when i had work at five. my mom was all over the place with your mom and it was a mess.” he didn’t interrupt you he just listened
“i’m sorry i couldn’t be there, you know jere can help too.”
“jere was drunk with steven.”
“of course he was.” conrad laughed “well i’m almost done with finals so i’m gonna be all yours.” he sighed bringing you closer to kiss you softly and you brought your hands up to his soft hair that you missed so much. the kiss depended as he moved to get on top of you putting his weight on you “missed you so much, gosh,” he whispered against your lips
“show me.” his eyes darkened as those words came out of your mouth.
“baby,” he mumbled looking down at you
“con, i’ve missed you so much, please. it’s been forever since you touched me.” a small smirk grew on his face before he leaned down to kiss your lips softly and then slowly descend down to your neck, but his lips stayed there as his hand drifted down towards the waistband of your sweatpants “please”
He didn’t have to be told twice by you. Conrad let his hand slip under your underwear and finally makes contact with you feeling the effect he has on you. His fingers started slowly circling your clit and it made you buck your hips into him feeling the hard pressure from him against you. He didn’t focus on that. Only you. He wanted to make sure you were satisfied. He could wait. As he teased you around your entrance his lips stopped kissing your neck and he looked into your eyes lovingly.
“hi,” you breathed into him as he ran a finger over you again
“hi baby.” he smiled down at you and slipped a finger inside of you catching your mouth in a gasp he kissed you “like that?” you nodded fast against him as he slowly moved in and out of you “so pretty.” he kissed the tip of your nose as he moved his thumb to play with your clit again circling it just how you liked it
“con.” you bucked into him again
“i’m not gonna let you cum, don’t you worry we’re gonna do that together.” he moved faster on the spot you needed him most before pulling out of you when he knew you were getting close
“yeah, yeah.” you sighed and conrad peeled off his shirt over his head and then helped you out of yours to see the lace bra you were wearing
“for me?” you leaned back on your elbows giving him a nice view
“the one and only.” he chuckled before you grabbed the side of his face and brought your lips back together. you slightly lifted yourself and unclipped your bra letting it fall between the both of your bodies. conrad sighed as he looked at your tits wondering how he got so lucky. he then moved both his hands to your waistband and separated from you
“you sure? i just thought you would be tired from the drive.” you couldn’t help but smile at him as he was the most caring and loving boy you have ever met
“for you, always.” he didn’t need another word before dragging both your underwear and pants down and tossed them off the bed to the floor
“careful connie gonna get your room dirty.”
“i’m only fine with that if you cause the mess.” he connected your lips once more as your hands drifted to his jeans. you could do this blindfolded anytime any day of the week. the button popped and you rolled the zipper down and pushed the fabric past his thighs, conrad groaned as it went past his hard erection
“fuck.” he fell to your shoulder
“seems like someone missed me,” you said kissing the side of his head
“give me a break, there’s so much phone sex with you can do.” you couldn’t respond as he bit down on your neck. next thing you knew his boxers were off and he was reaching into his side table for a condom. you designed the box where he kept them as it said ‘for y/n use only’ which you loved and conrad laughed as you gave it to him for his birthday. he ripped open the package and you relaxed on the bed as he slipped the condom on “soft tonight okay? missed you too much.” biting your lip you nodded as he breathed out lining up to you before pushing in little by little getting used to you again
“conrad.” you gasped digging your nails into his back
“i know baby, we have to get used to it again.” he moved a little more as a small whimper came out of you
“just go all the way. this is too much.” he listened to your words and pushed more into you
“fuck!” he bottomed out catching his breath and looked down at your closed-eyed figure “look at me.” he moved your hair from your face and your eyes opened to his pretty face “if it becomes too much, you let me know.”
“okay, i promise.” he relaxed onto you and moved his hips out before pushing them back into you causing both of you to groan
“j-just don’t moan too loud, i got neighbors.” he breathed out. last time you both had sex here conrad got a noise complaint and if he got a second one it would be his last warning for any visitors
“sorry.” you whispered against his lips and his hips slowed movements letting you feel him “don’t slow down.”
“just needed to feel you.” he dipped his head into the crook of your neck holding you close as if he wasn’t inside of you close enough already, you squeezed around him and his body jolted “if you do that again i will cum, and i really don’t want that.”
“then fuck me conrad.” he lifted his head as his eyes darkened over yours
“yes ma’am.” he pulled out all the way and slammed his hips back into yours the sound of skin slapping echoed around the room, he did that multiple times. it wasn’t hard it was telling and passion
As your breaths mixed you both slowly started to lose control. His hips got sloppy and that was a sigh he was getting closer to his edge. But something about conrad is he never wanted to finish first, he wanted you to have to spotlight before he finished after you.
“cant last much longer.” he grabbed one of your hands bringing it above your head and interlocking your fingers together as he looked down between the both of you and where you were connected
“me too.” you arched your back as he hit a spot like never before “fuck.” the man above you continued to hit that g-spot and you started to shake uncontrollably “con-“ he brought his lips down to your mouth and dragged one more thrust before you came, he slowed his movements letting you relax.
“i got you.” he pushed some of your hair away from your face
“did you finish?” the answer was no. he wanted you to feel special even before he could ever
“no it’s okay, i wanted it to be about you-“ you cut him off flipping both of you over carefully as the twin bed didn’t have much room. you slipped the condom off tying it and tossed it in his trash can
“y/n.” he sighed laying back on full display for you
“let me take care of you now.” leaning down his hard erection stayed up, red at the tip wanted to release
“do something baby.” you nodded before taking him all in your mouth
“god i love it when you do that.” using your hands you stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and he bucked into your mouth hearing a gagging sound come from your throat “sorry.” but you ignored him coming up and sucking on the tip before going down again “cumming.” he groaned out and the warm texture filled your mouth some falling out past your lips “fuck, fuck” he held your head in place slowly pumping to get the rest out “good girl.” he sighed and fell back onto his pillow as you swallowed what you could then grabbing his shirt to clean the both of you
“good?” you wanted to make it everything he wanted
“amazing, come here.” he reached for you and you grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed before cuddling into his side covering the think texture over the two of you “i love you.” he looked down at your face
“i love you.” leaning up to kiss him softly he could taste himself on you and he knew there would be many more rounds tomorrow “thank you for visiting.”
“of course, i’d be lost without you conrad fisher.” and you closed your eyes driving off to sleep as he realized, he was gonna marry you one day.
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msfantasy-comics · 2 years ago
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The Perfect Match
Jason Todd x Reader
Summary: A head cannon on how Y/n is the perfect match for Jason.
Warning: this contains references to heavy topics, so if you are easily trigged, then please read at your discretion.
Masterlist - Tip Jar
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Jason is one of the most complex people.
His life experience has set him up for some incredible challenges.
By the grace of god for everything that is good, you walked in and made him whole.
You were, Jason’s perfect match.
Understanding and Reliant
Jason has had an incredibly traumatic past, the death of his father and loving step-mother, becoming homeless, feeling rejected by his adoptive family, having his birth mother sacrifice him, being killed by the Joker… seriously… what HASN’T this poor man been through?
With that, Jason needs a partner who can at least, understand that he has a lot of pain to bare, and that Jason had his own unique way in processing that trauma.
Dick: “He tried to force Bruce into killing the Joker.”
Y/n: “Was it wrong of him to get someone else to do his dirty work? Yes, absolutely, however, the Joker did kill him and his mother… need I say more?”
Damian: “He kills criminals- not turning them into Arkham as we are required to.”
Y/n: “Firstly… hypocrisy. Secondly, Arkham is fundamentally broken and objectively not effective as we have established numerous times. Jason has found a permanent solution to criminals who hurt without cause or resolution.”
Tim: “You’re literally excusing his actions.”
Y/n: “I’m not saying I agree with everything Jason has done, but I can understand why Jason has done what he did and why he thinks that way. Agreeing and understanding are completely different words.”
Jason sitting smuggly with his arms crossed.
Jason: “Yeah! Tell them off babe.”
Jason at times feels like you’re the only person who understands him.
But even more so, Jason loves that you defend him in front of others with unwavering support.
But in private you reason with him gently.
Y/n: “Baby, I see why you feel Bruce should’ve avenged your death, but it’s just not part of his philosophies, punishing him for someone else’s crime wasn’t fair… you really should apologise for torturing him, I truely believe Bruce was doing what he thought was best.”
Jason: “… I’ll think about it.”
Loyalty
Jason has severe abandonment issues.
His father and step-mother dying in quick succession, with no extended family willing to take him in.
Meeting his bio-mother, who bargained her own life in exchange for Jason’s. Which Jason graciously accepted despite how undeserving it was.
Bruce ‘replacing’ him quickly after with Tim.
Bruce not avenging his death with the Joker.
Jason was constantly making sacrifices for others and as far as he was concerned
No one returned the favour.
So Jason really values loyalty to the highest degree.
As he believes it’s a rare trait.
Your unwavering love and support is everything Jason could’ve asked for and more.
However…
Jason: “Would you leave me if I ever cheat on you.”
Y/n: “Yes, absolutely.”
Jason: 😲
Y/n: 😐
Communication Skills
Jason, is generally, horrible at communicating his feelings and needs.
His feelings are expressed through action. Not words.
This can often be frustrating but this just means you have to come up with creative ways in which Jason can express himself.
Jason: “Fuck, fuck, fuck everything is fucked!”
Y/n: “Common grumpy pants, let’s go for a drive.”
You’ll often drive Jason to scenic places and you’ll both wonder around in silence before you take him home snuggle up and just watch a movie.
You do all the right things without being asked.
You know what he’s trying to say without him saying a word.
You know that the last thing Jason needs, is to explain himself.
All he needs is reassurance.
Which you do perfectly.
Supportive in his Endeavours
Jason has a … unique take on justice.
He is the lawyer, judge and executioner.
If he finds a criminal guilty of a heinous crime and said criminal is not sorry.
Then that criminal is typically never heard from again.
Whilst you may or may not agree, you both have a burning passion for the betterment of your community.
Don’t forget you both call Gotham your home.
Jason just loves how passionate you are at making the city better for everyone.
His focus is on cleaning up the crime whilst yours is to build a better foundation to better your community and home.
Jason loves that you hold the same values as his own.
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eoe-1379 · 2 months ago
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Avalanche Part 1
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(Trying to get used to 2nd person, while continuing the story. Bear with me. I also put a lot less work into this. Writing it in tumblr drafts and doing only the most basic of editing. I've given up trying to make it perfect I just want the ideas out of my head.)
Link to Part 2
This one is all fluff and fun! Not explicit, but the next part will be, which is why I'm leaving the 18+ warning up on this one.
A small warning for mentions of drugs and alcohol
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The year was 1986. You’re in college now, just trying to get through your preliminaries before you have to finally pick a major. Unlike you, Caleb had everything planned. He was almost done with his degree and already had a job lined up at the DAA for when he graduated. It was different for you. You didn’t excel at school, at anything, the way Caleb did. He was a born natural at whatever he tried his hand at. Meanwhile, you needed a tutor to pass entry-level trig.
Caleb wasn’t happy about your choice, but Zayne was the smartest person you knew. Book smart, at least. Plus Caleb was so busy now with graduation prep and getting in his hours on the simulator he didn’t have the time to teach you the principles of imaginary numbers. Zayne did.
Zayne was going for his PhD, and he too was almost finished with his schooling. Next would be his residency, and he wasn’t looking forward to that. Mingling around with the other young doctors and nurses had never been where he felt comfortable. He wished he could just skip to the end where he was established in his career, but that wasn’t the way things worked. He was all too pleased when you asked him for help with something basic like Trigonometry. Math, and you, were definitely his comfort zone.
“I just don’t understand where I’m even going to need this.” You groan, pushing the textbook away with an air of disgust.
“You likely won’t once you graduate, but you will if you want to cross that stage.” Zayne put his pencil between his teeth as he pulled the book back to rest in front of you on the dining table. “One more try, then we’ll take a break. Let’s focus on this equation…”
“Ugh” You toss your head back and sink into the chair like a toddler. “Couldn’t we take a break now? We’ve been at it for hours, doc.”
Zayne can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He liked that you called him Doctor, even though he was still years away from being one.
“Alright, but not too long.” He leaned back, relaxing. “Your breaks have a habit of hijacking the day.”
The sound of keys at the door makes both of you turn. Caleb is home.
He enters the apartment with his head bowed, a sack of groceries dangling from his wrist as he wriggles the keys from the lock. When he looks up and meets your gaze, his brow furrows.
“Another study sesh?” He asks, walking into the kitchen to set the groceries on the counter.
“We’ve almost solved one equation.” You jest.
“That so?” Caleb says absently, stocking the fridge. He seems distracted, avoiding your gaze.
You get up from the table and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.
Behind you, Zayne takes a long sip of Dr. Pepper and watches the wall.
“Welcome home.” You muse, snuggling into Caleb’s chest. “I missed you.”
Caleb softens, wrapping his arms around you as he presses a light kiss to the top of your head.
“Missed you too, pipsqueak.” You watch his eyes flick across to the dining table before settling back on you. “I thought we could celebrate tonight, just the two of us.”
You glance over your shoulder to where Zayne is awkwardly trying to look occupied.
“What exactly are we celebrating?” You ask in a softer tone.
“I finally finished my hours on the simulator.” Caleb’s prideful smile breaks through his demeanor. “I bought us some champagne to share, and I was going to cook a special dinner but…” he trailed off before raising his voice to include Zayne in the conversation, “I only got enough for two. Sorry man.”
“That’s alright.” Zayne went to stand, brushing off his shirt, “We can finish studying later.”
You move away from Caleb, feeling guilty for making Zayne feel so unwelcome. You turn back, eyes pleading. Caleb sighs.
“No, wait,” he gives you a stern look, but when you don’t relent your pouting he continues, “Stay. I heard you’ve got something to celebrate as well.”
You whip around, finding Zayne frozen in the tiny apartment foyer.
“What’s he talking about?”
Zayne sighs. He’d been hoping to avoid this.
“Oh, nothing extravagant.” He breathed, bashfully rubbing his neck.
“That’s not what I heard.” Caleb went on, “I heard you saved some chick's life in the food court.”
Your eyes widen in awe.
“What?! Zayne! Why didn’t you say something?”
He winced slightly as you tugged on his sleeve, making apologetic eye contact with your boyfriend over your shoulder.
“It isn’t a big deal.” He shrugged, “She choked, that’s all.”
Caleb looked at Zayne knowingly but did not correct him further.
“Either way, you’re welcome to celebrate with us. This one hardly eats what I make her anyways, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of food for you.”
You shoot Caleb a glare.
“It’s not my fault I can’t keep up with your portion sizes, I don’t have that kind of metabolism.” You turn back to Zayne, grabbing his cold hand in yours. “Do stay.” You plead with a smile. “I promised you a break, after all, and if you go home you’ll just start working again and you know it.”
Zayne exhaled heavily through his nose, holding his coat in one hand, you in the other, one foot still pointed toward the door. You watch as his brow creases and relaxes with thought as if he’s weighing every outcome in his mind. Finally, he speaks.
“I suppose I could stay for dinner.” He set his coat back on the rack and moved away from the door.
“Bitchin'!” You shake him a little with excitement, planting a kiss on his cheek. The action wasn’t planned and startled you almost as much as it startled him, but nothing prepared you for Caleb’s burning stare. “Sorry.” You say, backing off. “I get too enthusiastic sometimes.”
“No worries.” Zayne hums, rubbing the spot on his cheek with a barely concealed grin.
“Who wants a drink?” Caleb interjects from the kitchen, already pouring a glass.
“Me!” you and Zayne say in unison.
Night sneaks up on all of you. The dining table was littered with messy dishes and dirty napkins, two empty bottles of champagne, and three half-full glasses remaining.
You twirl yours between nimble fingers, watching the golden liquid swirl. Your head feels heavy, your cheeks warm, and you aren't wasted but you're buzzing.
Zayne is also flushed, leaning back in his seat laughing at another one of Caleb’s anecdotes. The two men warmed to each other rather quickly once the alcohol started flowing. Laughing and joking in the way that men do. You cherished seeing them together like this, your two favorite people in the whole world. You couldn't wipe the smile from your face if you tried.
Caleb took another sip, still humming in amusement.
“I tried to tell Patrick he couldn't handle the altitude but he just wouldn't listen.” the pilot-to-be shook his head, “I've never seen anyone vomit that much in the simulator.”
“Sounds like a classmate of mine.” Zayne mused, “He gets sick at the sight of blood, yet wants to be a doctor? I don't think I will ever understand.”
Both men reach for the bottle, their hands colliding on the glass before pulling away clumsily.
“Sorry, you go ahead.”
“No, it's all yours.”
You sigh, grabbing the empty bottle and giving it a shake for their benefit.
“It's empty, dinguses,” you say with a sloppy grin. “Should someone go to the store for more?”
“No need,” Caleb grunts a bit as he stands, heading to the bedroom for a couple of confusing moments before reappearing with an ornate glass bottle of brown liquid. “I keep this for rainy days. Pip can't handle it, but what about you?”
Zayne smirks, sliding his glass over.
“I do have a fondness for whiskey,” he replies.
You fold your arms in a pout.
“What? And I'm just expected to sober up?”
Caleb smiles, pouring Zayne a shot.
“Check your bedside table.”
You smile at him in question, but he gestures you off with a nod of his head. “Go on.”
With an excited leap, you lurch from your chair, skipping to the bedroom to hunt for your present...whatever it is.
After some glancing around in the dark, you spot it. Illuminated by the smallest sliver of moonlight, near the shadow of your lamp, is a crinkled stick made of paper. You can smell its contents the moment you lay eyes on it, a heavenly sour blend of earth that you knew all too well. You snatch the joint without hesitation and fish a lighter from the drawer. Caleb always got you the best Kush. You didn't know where from, and you didn't care a wink. His little gifts were the only thing getting you through college free of a mental breakdown.
After blazing up and taking a couple much much-needed long hits, you saunter back into the living area with a more relaxed gait. The tension in your shoulders melts as the herb stings your lips, smoke trickling from your nostrils as you plop back down happily in your seat.
Caleb smiles over you in that warm, endearing way that makes your insides dance. He looked so handsome in the dim light. His purple eyes sparkled with mischief as he tossed back another shot.
You can't restrain your affections any longer.
Once Caleb was back in his seat, you moved to his lap, straddling him with a grin and a kiss. He welcomes you with a warm hand cupping your ass, squeezing just hard enough to hurt a little, and you loved it.
“Let’s all play a game.” you giggle, turning around on top of him so your upper body weight is supported by the table while he still cradles your hips. You look at Zayne with a warm smile, one he can never say no to. “It will be fun.”
Zayne looks at Caleb for a long moment before he looks back at you.
“What do you have in mind?”
You sit up, taking another long drag on your joint.
“Truth.” You lean forward again, breasts almost spilling from the top of your shirt. “Or dare.”
“Pipsqueak,” Caleb utters your name like a warning, his thumb stroking circles over the denim of your jeans. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“Oh come on!” You whine, throwing your head against the polished wood. “It’s not a true celebration unless we do something silly.” You look at them both with doe eyes. “Please?”
“Fine, but let’s move to the couch.” Caleb picks you up, and drops you on your feet, patting your ass playfully as you skip toward the sofa.
Zayne follows, drink in hand.
Once the three of you are settled on the cushions comfortably, Caleb and Zayne share another shot over your head, cheering their glasses with a clink.
You pull your legs up, curling them underneath you so you don’t have to crane so much to see their faces.
“I’ll go first. Ask me.” You turn to Caleb expectantly, batting your lashes as he tucks your hair back.
“Truth or dare?” He hums, still gazing deep into your eyes.
“Dare.”
Caleb grins.
“I dare you to take a shot with us.”
Rolling your eyes, you smile. You saw that one coming a mile away. Caleb offered you his glass as he picked up the Jameson, pouring one out for you and Zayne and keeping the bottle for himself.
You hated whiskey. It was too rich, too strong, and the bittersweet sting of it lingered on your tongue for hours to come. Yet, you tossed it back without a single complaint, handing the glass back to your boyfriend with a superior smirk.
“My turn.” you shift, spinning on the cushion to face Zayne. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth, I suppose.” Zayne wipes a drop from his lip with a calculated swipe of his fingers.
“What happened with the girl in the food court?”
He smiled, almost laughing. He should have expected the question from you.
“She choked, that was true. Only, I wasn't present for that. The man who gave her the Heimlich punctured her lung. He couldn't have known, but she had dislocated a rib earlier at her rugby game. The resulting pressure from him trying to save her ended up putting her at even more dire risk.” His brow knit together as he recalled the events, his smile fading, “When I got there she wasn't breathing. I had to perform emergency thoracentesis to remove the excess fluid while we waited for paramedics.”
“Shit.” Caleb hissed under his breath, taking another drink.
“Whats, Thora-cent..ysis?” you ask, clumsily fumbling over the word.
Zayne lights up just slightly, inching closer to you to explain with his hands. He touches a spot between your lower ribs, and you twitch as it tickles.
“I poke a hole right here, to release the fluid buildup. Once she could breathe again, I kept the pressure on the wound until the medics arrived.” he removes his cold hand from your side, reaching for his drink again. He was starting to look red in the face. You wondered how drunk he was.
“That's incredible Zayne.” you breathe in awe, “They really should just make you a surgeon already.”
He chuckled.
“I still have a ways to go before I get there.” his green eyes flick up to Caleb over your shoulder. “Truth or dare, captain?”
The word hangs for a while in the air between them. An old taunt from childhood, in those formative years before Caleb matched Zayne in size, and could still be teased without consequence. You feel Caleb tense beside you, but his expression remains playful.
“Dare,” he commands.
“How predictable.” Zayne scoffs, tapping his chin as he thinks. “Alright. I dare you…to let me kiss your girlfriend.”
“Zayne!” You gasp, covering your mouth both from the shock but also to hide your unshakable grin.
Caleb, to your surprise, laughs.
“Trying to get me out this early in the game? Nuh-uh.” he chided, pulling your face forcefully into his lips as he planted a passionate, slobbering kiss on you. When he released you, he smeared his spit across your mouth with a wicked grin, practically pushing you into Zayne’s arms. “She's all yours.”
Zayne raised an eyebrow. He hadn't truly expected Caleb to allow this, he just wanted to win the game. Though, as you look up at him patiently, he wonders if he maybe had ulterior motives after all.
Zayne’s cool fingers brush your cheek before gently pulling you toward him. His arms wrapped around you, and he shifted to let you settle in his lap as he bent to meet your lips. Your breath catches as his tenderness soaks into your bones, the kiss light and sensitive. He doesn't stop after one or two. No. He holds you firm until he's had his fill of little kisses, passionate in his quiet way.
By the time he's done with you, your chest is heaving, and your face is red. You're afraid to look back at your boyfriend, who undoubtedly regrets his decision to stay in the game. Yet when you finally look at Caleb again, he seems unphased, tossing back another shot with only a subtle flush under his eyes.
“Truth or dare?” he asks you bluntly, keeping his eyes locked on Zayne.
“Truth.” You whisper, wanting to steer the game in a different direction - though the palpable tension in the air suggested it was much too late for that.
“Did you like him kissing you?” Caleb asks immediately.
“Caleb…” you move toward him, but one strong hand grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from touching him.
“Answer.”
“…yes.” your reply is scarcely audible over your heartbeat, pounding like drums against your skull.
“Zayne? Truth or dare?” Caleb continued, letting you go.
Zayne’s brow tightened, he knew he was being backed into a corner. Caleb always did this, even when they were kids. Zayne might've been the oldest but Caleb was always the one in control, and neither of them cared to lose. Not then, not now.
“Dare.”
You sank back between them, just praying things didn't escalate the same way they did on the playground all those years ago.
“Kiss her again.” Caleb's tone darkened as he took another shot.
You sit up, shocked.
“Caleb!”
Zayne wasted no time, he cupped your face and pulled you into another deliciously tender kiss.
You push him off with a grunt, fighting the pleasure back into its hiding place deep inside you.
“Enough!” you snap, standing from the couch in a huff, “I’m not a stick to measure your dicks with!”
Silence.
What had you just said? Was that what you meant to say? “No, I mean,” you stutter, a smile cracking your serious expression, “The stick isn't me, just that you two - stop -” you chuckle despite yourself “I'm not a toy, is what I mean!”
You look up, your cheeks burning from embarrassment. The two young men share a look of confusion before they too break into laughter.
“Come’ere Pipsqueak,” Caleb opens his arms in wait, and you happily fly to him. He wraps you in a comforting embrace, stroking your hair. “We know what you meant. I'm sorry.”
“Me too.” Zayne agreed. “I'm so very sorry. That was…childish of me.”
“Of both of us,” Caleb adds, kissing your forehead. “Forgive us?”
You rub your eyes with a grin, nodding. You couldn't stay mad even if you wanted to, the weed saw to that.
“You were right. This game was a bad idea.”
“No…” Caleb hummed reassuringly, “To be honest, watching you two was kinda hot.”
Zayne chuckled, thinking Caleb was joking, but you knew better. His tone was sincere, aroused even.
“Really?” you ask, surprised.
Caleb shrugs and nods.
“What? I can't have kinks?” He tickles you, making you laugh and wriggle in his arms.
“Of course you can!” you exclaim, trying to break away. “I just would never expect that to be one.”
“Wait, are you serious?” Zayne asks, finally catching on. His cheeks were bright red.
“Relax Doctor,” Caleb said, nuzzling your neck as he crawled over you. You giggled, scooting back until you were in Zayne’s lap again, Caleb still nibbling at your throat. “We don't bite.”
He pulls off of you, his violet eyes lidded with lust. You look up at Zayne, who is in a similar state of distress.
“Truth or dare?” you ask the green-eyed boy behind you, your voice shaking with excitement.
He lets out a stuttered gasp.
“Dare.”
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hidden-poet · 1 year ago
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Commander Snow
Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.
Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns.
Next chapter
When Dr Gaul suggested Coriolanus return to compete his officer training, he was mortified. But she had made a valid point about his presidential future.
A man who served his country was easier to sell than a spoilt rich boy who deserted his post.
She would bring him back for the lavish parties and important ceremonies to shake hands with the right people. They all told him what a fine young man he had become. Following his fathers footsteps, despite his down fall.
He would smile and tell them it was an honor to serve Panem. An honor to fill the shoes of Commander Hoff and restore order to district 12.
Commander Hoff had been killed by rebels. A bomb went off during a hanging, hidden under the floor boards and trigged by flex of the rope. Commander Hoff had been standing directly above it and left district 12 with a dire need for a leader.
Coriolanus had only started to settle back into capital life. Before he was torn from his riches and thrown back into the dirt.
He was still bitter about returning, but his opponent, Augustus Bloom, for the presidential run was highly well known, and a few years older then him. He was a well established business man, and Coriolanus still had a school boy image.
Still, as Dr Gaul reminded him, Augustus had only known the spoils of war. Which made him fine company for dinner, but for a leader of Panem people would be looking for a man who would not shrink in the face of violence. A man who kept the scum of the districts at bay.
When President Ravinstill finally breathed his last breath Panem would be looking for a new leader and Coriolanus wanted to be the only one they turned to. With Dr Gaul's help it was a possible goal.
The first thing he did as commander was out up a electric fence around the district so there was no chance of lucy-grey returning or her covey sneaking out to help her with supplies.
He ruled district 12 with a harsh fist. It was good practice for when he would rule Panem. He experimented with ways to control people. He found that the best way was the hardest.
Fear was a great oppressant but also a great motivator. He had to balance it with small pockets of relent. The tiger won't bite you if you don't pull it's tail.
Keep in line, and the Capital would provide for basic needs. Coriolanus knew first hand what people would turn into when their basic needs were not met. So feed them, clothe them, offer the occasional entertainment to distract them from their miserable existence.
It would keep the majority at bay. And for those who knew better than to be lulled into compliancy, cruelty would be unleased into the district. Food shipments cancelled, mandatory public executions, Peacekeepers given free rein to take what they liked and flog anyone who protested. The people of district 12 would grow to hate rebels.
However, his tyrannical rule left him isolated from his army. The men kept out of Coriolanus way. Even those directly below him offered no familiar way of talking.
Only in his weekly call with Tigress and Grandma'am could he talk about something other than strategy.
He took to walks on sunny days to break up his day between work and sleep. Most of the men in his camp had taken to the district looking for their fun. Coriolanus wasn't invited out.
So he walked around the facility. Weaving through the large buildings and metrically kept gardens.
He was just about to head back to his apartment and settle himself down with documents awaiting approval when he heard quite yelling and whispers coming from the prison windows.
It was located at the far end, hidden between a tall brick wall and link fence.
He pressed himself to the wall.
"here! Here!" he could hear the quiet demands.
A traitor was interfering with Capital business. Coriolanus would make sure this rebel would met a fate worse than those imprisoned.
He peaks from behind wall not to see a ill fed man who dreams bigger than his station but a women overcome with compassion.
You're standing up on your tippy toes on the prison cell window. A basket over your elbow while your hand clung to the cell bars to keep you up. You were passing oat squares from your basket to blind hungry hands.
You had an air of vulnerability about you. A doe eyed looked that invited predators. Come eat me you seemed to cry. Coriolanus planned to do exactly that.
he walks over, trending lightly so he made no noise and picked you up by the waist, putting you down on the ground.
You stilled underneath his touch, frozen from fear. You slowly turned to see who's chest was touching your shoulder to see Coriolanus, the Commander of district 12.
You looked like Tigress had during the war. A quite braveness about you shun in your eyes. A willingness to do anything to protect those who you held dear.
Coriolanus had wanted to invite you back to his office where he would offer you a drink, and inquire about you.
But you had taken off before he could part his lips. Ran back to the broken linked corner of the fence and pulled your body along the ground and through the metal. You had dropped your basket at his feet and he kicked it as he ran.
He chased after you, grabbing your ankle and pulling you back towards him.
"Wait!" he implored. Something about you drew him to you.
It could have been his desire to protect Tigress all those years ago. Tigress had looked after him all his life and he had a large debt that he only started to pay back. Part of him held on to the disgust that he had failed her for so many years. You had the same loyalty as her, he could tell. Perhaps you could play a role in healing history.
Or perhaps it was your evident kindness that he wanted to trap like a butterfly. District life here was cold and lonely. He longed to be looked after like he was back home. He was a great and powerful man but with no one dotting on him he felt no better than a lowly peacekeeper. At least they had each other. Commander Snow had no one but his reflection to boast praise upon him.
Maybe it was a mixture of the two.
Your cry out as the sharp metal dug into you as he pulled you back through it. It was enough for him to release you. If you were hurt that's all you would be able to focus on. For all one knows, it might be all he would be able to focus on.
He stood up and watched you flee in the distance until not even a shadow of you could be seen. He committed your image to his memory, picked up your basket and walked to the entrance of the prison where the clueless peacekeepers standing guard greeted him.
He sent two to fix the hole in the fence, and demanded one other to bring him the prisoners facing the west wall one by one.
Hours of interrogation later and Coriolanus gave up hope that one of the prisoners actually knew you.
Some could describe you from what they saw but that was no good to him. He already burned you into his brain.
----------
Instead he issued mandatory vaccines. Sections were given time allotments to avoid overcrowding so he didn't miss you amongst the people and secondly so he knew which part of town you resided in.
It must have been the outer part as it was late afternoon of standing between each line for Coriolanus before he could finally see you in line. He had taken to eaten the rest of the oat bars in the basket after a nightfall of interrogation. Sat at his dinning room table in nothing but his underwear and devoured the small bars.
With acknowledgement that your resources were limited, they were quite good. Even after he was full he kept eating, hating the idea that anyone but him would taste or touch your cooking. You cooked with love he could taste it.
It reminded him of Tigress fried potato. She would always leave the best pieces for him. He imaged you both would be good friend's. Bonding over Coriolanus.
Despite his romanticizing of you last night, he didn't move, choosing to act as if he had forgotten you.
You had not forgotten him. You kept your head down, wore different clothes than yesterday and a scarf covered your hair.
You didn't really have much of a choice. peacekeepers were searching each house and surrounding areas to ensure all members were present. You also needed your vaccine booklet stamped. One missing stamp meant serious trouble.
He tried not to be obvious as he watched you get your vaccine. you moved quicker then the rest, rushing to the back as soon as your book was stamped.
He reached under one of the covered desks to retrieve your basket and followed pursuit.
He followed you as you moved through the people. Several peacekeepers had been instructed to help herd the women Coriolanus followed into a nearby ally way.
You attempted to turn right through the buildings but a Peacekeeper appeared out of thin air. You retracted froward but a looming peacekeeper at the gate squared his body to you.
You took of running to the right were another peacekeeper pushed his way through the crowd to you. You turned back to see Coriolanus walking through parted people. You see the ally and make way for it.
The plan had worked perfectly, and he nodded to the Peacekeeper still making his way through the crowd to say your work is done.
He sees you banging against the gate he had locked, trying to shove it open.
He fiddled with basket under his hand. Rubbing his thumb up and down the threaded wood as he made his way towards you.
You turn around to face him upon hearing his footsteps. You weren't sure if you were backed into a corner or if your body moved itself.
"You forget your basket yesterday" he held it out towards you but you didn't accept it.
"It ain't mine" you reply. You eyes don't even look at it. Keeping them on your shoes.
"So if i was to arrest you until the DNA testing came back on it you wouldn't mind?". He could feel your body tense.
"There ain't no rule that we can't feed em'".
A confession so quickly. Yet you still refuse to look at him.
"There is a rule about associating with rebels".
He steps closer, his shoulders lean forward almost over you.
'i was just feeding. Not associating".
Coriolanus sucks his teeth. He would feel almost disappointed having given the basket back. He would like to keep a piece of you.
"I could hang you for this, or..."
Your eyes flick to his. There was a lightness in them that you weren’t expecting.
“Or we could keep this to ourselves” he leans in close to whisper. You could feel his soft breath on your cheek, “our little secret”.
He swings the basket just outside of your hand. You reach for it but he swings it back.
“It would make us partners in crime” he warns.
He was playing. His eyebrows raised in a playful way and a slight smirk played on his lips.
You didn’t share in this playfulness. Too many of your friends had been killed by peacekeepers to find any of them amusing.
“What do you want from me?” you ask. Your eyes still at his. He saw the same fire for survival as his.
Coriolanus steps back from you allowing some distance.
“I want to help you” he swings the basket into your hand, “will you let me?”
You don’t answer. Just yank the basket away from him and turned to run out back from the ally. Taking the opportunity of him being back from you.
You turn as you wedge yourself back into the steam of people to see Coriolanus watching you as you as you try and disappear.
You knew it wouldn’t be the last time you saw the Commander.
You run home with a peacekeeper tailing you. Or at least when the basket of food appeared on your doorstep the next morning that's what you assumed.
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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year ago
Text
NOTES — JESS MARIANO
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based on a request
masterlist
pairing: jess mariano x reader
description: after months of mutual pining, jess arrives at luke’s having read your favourite novel. oh, and he has some notes.
warnings: swearing, jokey sexual reference, other than that just tooth rotting fluff vibes
author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i loved it sm i had to immediately start writing!!! i hope it does jess justice — i love writing him so much. i may go back and edit some bits im not 100% happy with — but i hope you enjoy!!!
pleaaaaase let me know what you think — i love love love reading you guys’ feedback <3
———
“I finished it.”
If you were anyone else, you’d have jumped out of your skin at the sudden, and rather loud, appearance of someone beside you.
But this was you, and it was Jess, so you were more than used to your ‘peaceful’ study sessions at Luke’s being interrupted by his ever-present smirk, his flirting and his endless supply of smartarse comments.
Not that you could complain.
You’d grown used to his omnipresence over a year ago. And it had been months now since you’d realised that you no longer just tolerated his company — you enjoyed it a ridiculous amount and instead longed for it when he wasn’t around.
You eyed him quizzically, noting how proud of himself he looked for reading your favourite book, but also noticing an unusual lack of self-assurance glimmering through his expression.
“I would ask if you mean this trig stuff for Mr Elton,” you gestured down to the homework you’d been painfully poring over for the past hour, “But I know you too well to expect you to actually do your homework, so what are you talking about?”
He didn’t mention that the real reason he never studied in your trig study sessions was because he was more often than not too busy staring at you and coming up with things to say to make you laugh.
Jess raised his eyebrows, but then shook his head and cleared his throat to do a godawful impression of you, “Oh Jess, I can’t believe you’ve never read it. My favourite novel in the whole world and you’ve never read it!”
You scoffed, “If that was supposed to be me, get out of here.”
“Please, like you really want to get rid of me,” he teased, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you, “Then you’d be miserable and heartbroken and, even worse, have to actually finish your trig homework. Besides, I enjoyed it.”
Your eyes brightened up at this, and you could tell he noticed, “Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. Your taste isn’t that bad… I mean, you hang out with me don’t you?”
“For some reason, yes,” you pretended to grumble, feigning ignorance of the butterflies in your stomach at his usual smug smile, “But you really liked it?”
He sat down in the seat opposite you now, pulling the book from his bag and slamming it down in front of you, “Well, I have notes of course.”
You rolled your eyes, at which he couldn’t help but laugh, “Hey, it wasn’t terrible. I did say I enjoyed it… Some of the notes are nice.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure.”
“You wound me,” Jess feigned a pout, “Romance isn’t usually my genre and you know that.”
“Of course. Hemingway fanboy is too cool for my sappy romantic books, huh,” you joked, heart still racing wildly at the notion he’d even started reading it, let alone finished it.
“Pfft. Austen fangirl should be less rude and give more Hemingway a try, I say,” he quipped back, tongue in cheek.
“Hey, I like Hemingway,” you shook your head, “I just don’t go to bed and jerk off over how great I think he is like you so obviously do.”
He shook his head and pulled a face that faked shock, “And how much time in the day, on average, would you say you spend thinking about what I jerk off over, huh?”
“You are such an ass,” you tutted, swatting his arm, “Approximately none, thank you very much.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
“Anyway, if you’re done being gross, let’s get back to the important thing here. You read my book,” You reached to pull the book towards you, only for him to snatch it back and rest his elbows on it.
You furrowed your brows at him, “What’ve you got to hide in there?”
His eyes narrowed, his lip between his teeth now as though he was thinking hard about something.
“C’mon, Mariano,” you leaned forward, “I assumed that since you brought the book with you, I’d get to see at least some of your notes.”
His fingers were picking at the edges of the book’s cloth sleeve, his toes drumming on the floor anxiously like they’d recently begun to do more often when he was around you.
He heaved out a deep sigh, “Look. I’m going to give you this, and then I’m gonna leave the diner, alright? And then, and only then, you can open this book up, and you can read what’s in there. And if you never see me again it’s ’cause I’ve died of embarrassment or something. Got it?”
You rolled your eyes, chin on your palm.
He slid the book in your direction now as you watched him swallow thickly and cocked your head to the side like a curious puppy, “Ever so cryptic, aren’t you?”
“You’ll figure it out, Miss Marple.”
With that, he rose to his feet and darted out of the diner before you could even say another word.
You briefly made eye contact with Luke behind the counter, who watched you carefully for a moment before looking down at the book now carefully clutched between your fingers.
You wasted no time then, pulling open the book and desperately skimming for whatever the hell he was talking about.
You weren’t sure what on earth you expected to find when you flicked through its pages, but it most certainly wasn’t a plethora of sticky tabs with scrawled notes on about how the protagonist reminded him of you.
You expected even less, then, to find a note in Jess’ handwriting at the very back of the book declaring that he realised halfway through — when the two love interests whose relationship bore a crazy resemblance to your own, realised that they were in fact in love — that he’d been stupid to deny that he even liked you, let alone that he’d quite obviously fallen stupidly in love with you.
Shock coursed through you, your heart racing at the uncharacteristically romantic and yet somehow still so incredibly Jess gesture.
You stood up, almost knocking over your chair as you placed the book under your arm and turned to leave, “I’ll be back—uh, soon.”
Luke nodded, “Go get him kiddo.”
You smiled, butterflies whirling in your stomach as you left the diner almost as quickly as Jess had just minutes ago.
You knew exactly where you’d find him — perched on the bridge swinging his feet and letting his mind convince him you wouldn’t in a million years feel the same.
When he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching, you saw him clench his eyes shut as if in hope that he was imagining you and that you’d soon disappear.
“You can’t confess your love for me and then run away, Jess,” you bit your lip as you teased him softly, “It’s not fair not to give me a chance to say it back properly. You do get bonus points for how much of a romance novel cliché that move is, though.”
He sighed, a deep heavy sigh of relief, and it was as though suddenly he reverted to his usual self, “Technically the book confessed my love for you, actually. And the window for reciprocating hasn’t quite closed yet. I’m all ears, pretty girl.”
You loved this.
You loved how easy things always were for you with Jess.
Everything that went unspoken still never went unsaid — sure, you’d been flirtatious friends for a while now, uncertain of quite how seriously he reciprocated your feelings, but deep down you always sort of knew.
You loved that ever since he’d come to Stars Hollow, he’d shown that he cared in his own silly little ways.
And he loved you.
And you loved him.
You sat down at his side, still clutching the book tightly as he finally looked across at you with a small smile.
“You’re such a romantic, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you,” you nudged his side teasingly, “But I— Jess I do love you, and I’ve probably loved you for a long time even though I didn’t want to let myself admit it.”
“Wow, okay Mr Darcy… Wait ‘til Luke hears that the real reason you’ve only just told me that is because you think he’s embarrassing,” he mocked, but you felt him shuffle closer, “I’ve definitely loved you for longer than I thought I had too, if it makes you feel any better.”
“Much better, Miss Bennet,” you laughed, linking your arms and leaning against his shoulder as he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head.
You felt Jess’ chest rise and fall as you closed your eyes and let the sound of the stream beneath you wash over you.
“So, like, I don’t know the protocol with the whole ‘best friends to lovers’ trope like you do, so you’re gonna have to help me out here,” Jess chuckled.
You sat back up to look at him whilst still keeping hold of his arm, “Hmm, I think what’s meant to happen next is you kiss me and ask to take me on a real date. Pretty sure that’s right.”
“Right, everyone’s favourite cliche moment,” Jess rolled his eyes jokingly but cupped your face with his palms, “God, what have you done to me?”
“You looove me,” your response was muffled as he pressed his lips to yours to shut you up, at first gently and then with a touch more urgency.
When you pulled away, he let go of your face and smiled softly, “So about that date?”
“You got it, Mariano,” you grinned, kissing him quickly once more as you paused, “But you’re going to have a tough time doing anything as romantic as annotating my favourite book and writing me a love note, you know.”
He scoffed, “Oh I’ve got plenty more where that came from, Y/N.”
“Is that a threat?” you giggled, leaning back into his side.
“Just you wait and see.”
———
ok so i kinda lost my way with this a bit eventually and i’m sorry it’s quite short but i had sooooo much fun writing it. i love jess so fucking much and i’m so grateful for all the jess requests i get — trying v hard to work through them asap because it’s so fun.
thanks for reading! here’s my masterlist for more <3
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spinningwebsandtales · 1 year ago
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Imagine Vergil Protecting You After You're Injured
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Vergil X FemReader
Rating: T+
Warnings: Blood, violence, reader is wounded
Word Count: 767
(A/N:) Sorry I have been MIA folks! But I'm back and hopefully will be writing more and getting back into the swing of things. I've been wanting to write, but every time I sat down the words alluded me. So I took a little bit of a break and focused more on my artwork. Now I hope to continue to give attention to both my hobbies. So keep an eye for more stories in the future! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess
Vergil never felt that having back-up in fights was necessary, as he felt perfectly capable of taking care of business on his own. Power was his only goal in mind as he fought. Becoming the best, becoming stronger. Leaving himself unquestionably the best and most powerful being in existence. Leaving his brother Dante in the dust, like the vermin he is. Then Vergil came across you, a devil hunter in your own right, and he begrudgingly acknowledged your skills in the art of slaying demons. It was a fluke, he had told himself, that you ran into him hunting the same hoard of devils. It was a fluke that you fought alongside him perfectly. A fluke that you had his inner devil half purring at your nearness. Now it was a common occurrence for you both to take missions together.
What had changed his mind about you, he couldn't remember. And now it seemed abnormal whenever you weren't at his side. You were a fragile human, completely mortal, but your powers and strength made even the most powerful of the devil hoards cower and fall by your blade. Vergil refused to let you forget your humanness, but as you were always quick with retorts. You made sure that Vergil never forgot that he was also half human. He tried really hard to forget that, in his pursuit of power that his father and stupid twin brother had given up for the side of humanity. Vergil would scoff, roll his eyes, and march away leaving you to sprint to catch up. But he couldn't fight the small grin coming to his lips, despite trying to hide it, of course you'd notice and not leave him alone until you were satisfied in embarrassing him.
Once again you and Vergil found yourselves taking on another hoard of demons. This group had dug deep into a small town and refused to go down easy. Slash marks marred your face and despite blood flowing into one eye, you refused to back down. Vergil snarled for you to run away, but you stubbornly widened your stance ready to face another wave of attack. All he could do was curse you loudly and hope to keep your now blind side protected while you protected your other side. Limbs and heads of demons falling at your feet, until a Sin Scythe cut through it's own allies just to plunge the scythe into your guts.
Your cries of pain shattered Vergil's concentration as he watched in horror as you crumbled to the ground. His devil side raging inside as the scythe was pulled from your still form. He trigged in blind rage stepping in front of your fallen form and taking out the rest of the hoard in a wave of power. He tried to calm himself, to switch back but all he could manage was a few of his limbs and most of his facial features. Spittle flew from his lips as he tried to soothe his fury, while he checked for a pulse. Your heartbeat met his scaly fingertips and when he pressed a warm hand to your wound, you whined. He snarled more and your eyes fluttered open.
"Vergil?"
"You're losing a lot of blood," he replied. His voice deeper than normal, but that had to do with the fact he was fighting hard to keep from fully transforming again as the blood in his veins continued to boil in anger.
"How many are left," you panted. Always worried about the mission instead of yourself and it made him roll his eyes.
"Dead," his blunt reply made you stop asking questions. Your eyes clouded in pain Vergil scooped you up easily. "We have to get this taken care of."
"Vergil," you gasped. "Slow down. It feels like I'm coming apart at the seams."
"You'll just have to hang on a little bit longer. Until we can get clear so I can use the Yamato to open a portal."
"If you say so." You grumbled. "But don't complain if my innards stain your pretty clothes."
"I'm more worried about losing you."
Vergil's reply stunned you both and his body began to tense until you gently cupped his cheek.
"I'm not going anywhere," you promised.
"Good because I'll tease you for eternity for being taken out by a Sin Scythe," he smirked and you pinched his nose in protest. While your warm blood, had him fighting the anger inside, Vergil's top priority was to take care of you first and then go make more demons' lives living nightmares for even laying a finger on you.
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idkwhatever580 · 11 months ago
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Love you!
Masterlist
Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader
Prompt: highschool!au where nat has a fat crush on yelenas bsf and needs a little help with what to do. Nat also has adhd :)
Warnings: swearing, nat being a dummy with adhd, smoochin, mentions of trigonometry 😰
A/n: I’m so sorry I didn’t post it earlier! Moving kicked my ass. @m0use123 I hope I did it justice!
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Nobody’s pov
Natasha sighs and says
“I- I don’t know guys. It just. I can’t see her liking me back”
Wanda cuts in and says
“If there is a world where y/n doesn’t like you back then that world must be hell. Y/n is totally head over heels for you”
Nat rolls her eyes and says
“Y’all are so full of it. There’s no way that y/n even remotely likes me”
Maria says
“Actually we’re not kidding. She’s got the hots for you”
Natasha scoffs and says
“Okay. Whatever you say guys. Whatever makes you happy”
Carol gasps and says
“We should set you guys up!”
Natasha’s eyes go wide and she says
“No. No no no. No way. You are not setting us up”
Wanda then says
“But you’d be so cute together!”
Natasha sighs and says
“It’s not gonna happen. I mean. Could you imagine Lena’s reaction to us dating?! She’d flip her shit!”
Wanda looks over and says
“I don’t know. Yelena might be her best friend but they kind of act like sisters. Why not make it real?”
Natasha rolls her eyes and says
“Just stop guys.”
They all give up on their attempts but then they get an idea.
They subtly start texting back and forth on a group text without Natasha.
Ugly hags- Nat 💋
(Wand&Rabbit- Wanda
Christmas Carol- Carol
Mother Mary- Maria)
Wand&Rabbit: we should totally set them up
Christmas Carol: aren’t Lena and y/n supposed to come here later? We could make up a reason to get Nat and y/n alone 🤷‍♀️
Mother Mary: what excuse could we use to get them in nat’s room for enough time to figure out whatever they need to?
Wand&Rabbit: maybe we could play truth or dare and make them do 7 minutes in heaven! 🥵😏😏
Mother Mary: too obvious
Christmas Carol: Ria’s right we can’t be THAT obvious. Nat will know we’re up to something. She’s like a spy. Honestly I’m surprised she’s not sus about us texting rn 🥸🥸🥸
Wand&Rabbit: I think she’s looking at y/n’s insta rn. She’s prob lost in her eyes 🙄
Mother Mary: what if we use school as an excuse? I mean… y/n likes to tutor other students. And Nat has a trig text coming up. 👀
Christmas Carol: but Nat is like hella good at trig. Won’t y/n see right through it?
Wand&Rabbit: actually nat has been really stressed and has been wanting to work on more trig stuff. That’s a really good excuse. Especially since Lena despises trig. She’ll want nothing to do with it.
Mother Mary: so plan tutor sesh/ makeout sesh is a go?
Christmas Carol: I’m all for it.
Wand&Rabbit: I’m game.
Mother Mary: okay. Just checked y/n’s location. She’s pulling up with Lena now. 🤭
Christmas Carol: let’s do this. 🤫
Nobody’s pov
As Yelena walks in y/n trails behind her helping her carry a handful of groceries.
Yelena turns y/n and says
“Will you go get my fucking sestra? She needs to help with these. I got them. It’s her turn to unload them”
Y/n smiles and nods immediately knowing they get to see nat.
As y/n trots up to Natasha’s room she knocks and opens the door once she hears a come in.
She opens the door to find only Wanda, Maria, and carol
“Oh hey guys! Did you see nat? Lena is complaining that she needs to unload the groceries”
Carol says
“I think she’s in her closet maybe you could find her in there?”
Wanda smacks carols arm and says
“Actually! Tell nat we will handle the groceries”
They all make faces at each other which makes y/n quirk a brow but nonetheless she goes to knock on the closet door when they all move downstairs.
“Nat? Do you need help?”
“What! Oh! Uh- no! Shit- I’m good!”
As natasha says this she bumps her head on a hanger rack and y/n is concerned
“Are you sure? It doesn’t sound good in there”
Y/n goes to open the door and before she can see Natasha gets nervous and says the first thing that comes to mind
“I’m naked!!”
Y/n immediately closes the door and says
“Oh! I’m sorry I- I didn’t know”
She walks away before she makes it any more awkward.
As Natasha hears her crushes feet putter away, she slides down the door with a sigh.
Y/n goes back downstairs to help the others and Maria says
“So, is nat alright?”
Y/n blushes slightly and says
“Oh- yeah she um- she’s changing I think”
Maria nods her head and Wanda chirps in
“Hey! You’re good at trig right?”
Y/n nods her head and Wanda continues
“And you tutor other student who need help right?”
Y/n once again nods and says
“Why? Does somebody you know need help?”
Carol chips in and says
“Oh yes! Nat is really needing some help with studying for the upcoming exam”
Y/n furrows her brows and says
“Isn’t Natasha like way good at trig?”
Carol blanks and Maria falls in to help
“Yeah! But she’s been like really stressed out and has been trying to study in new ways! We think that having to study with someone who has the same skill set would maybe help reassure her”
Y/n nods in understanding and says
“That’s understandable. I could probably use some practice of my own as well! Does she know what time she wants to do it?”
Wanda nods and says
“Yes! Right now!”
Y/n pauses and says
“Oh- well I’m supposed to hang out with Lena today”
They pout and Carol says
“We will make sure you get the time you require with Yelena but I really think it would calm her nerves if you helped her now and she’s also been having a hard time with focusing on it as well. You know how she gets distracted”
Y/n weighs their options and finally agrees.
“Okay! Will you tell Yelena to not wait up on me? And help her with dinner please? Melina is out of town and Lena is just about as bad as Alexie with her cooking”
Y/n’s pov
I make my way up to Natasha’s room and knock again.
“Are you still changing? Or can I come in?”
She mumbles a small come in and I open the door
I step in and say
“Hey!”
Honestly I’m excited to spend time with her. I look at her desk and there’s books and papers spread out all messy.
She is drying her hair since she just got out of the shower.
God her natural hair is so beautiful. I wish she didn’t straighten it as much
“What do you want?”
She kind of comes off defensive and I say
“I don’t mean to intrude but the girls said that you needed some help with trig? I’m not as good as you but they said that you need to practice with someone who’s at least half way decent.”
She scoffs and says
“Of course. They don’t know what they’re talking about. I don’t need your help”
I sigh and sit down on her bed opposite of where she’s sitting.
“I never said you did. I just thought that maybe we could help each other? I mean we’re both really good, but sometimes I find it hard to get good practice in when I’m the one being the teacher you know? Like tutoring is hard. And I do it so much that I barely have any time to study myself. I thought we could work together.”
She thinks about it and says
“Y-you don’t have to if you don’t want to”
I smile and set my hand on hers.
“I want to I probably wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”
She chuckles awkwardly and I say
“Let’s get started”
I stand up and step over to her desk and she immediately hops up.
“Oh! Uh don’t mind that mess!”
She scratches the back of her neck and says
“I- um. I’ve been a little messy lately”
She tries to go and fix it but I stop her wrist and say
“I said I’d help you right? We can clean it up together and then start. Yeah?”
Her face turns red when I grab her wrist and she says
“Y-yeah”
It’s honestly cute. Oh great. Butterflies. I hate when she does that to me.
I let go of her hand and pull up a chair so we can both sit. We start organizing her desk in a way that is efficient but also where she can easily manage it.
Then we open the books. We go back and forth with trig until our conversations drift off and we get distracted.
Now we’re talking about Chappell Roan and Reneé Rapp and how great they are.
“What are your favorite songs nat?”
“By Chappell Roan or Reneé Rapp?”
“Hmm. Both!”
“Let me think… This is hard. But I think my favorite by Reneé Rapp is I do and my fav by Chappell Roan right now is picture you”
I smile and heat rises to my cheeks and I say
“Is there a person that you think about when you listen or just good beats?”
She turns red and says
“Uh- yeah there’s a girl. But no more questions about that! What are your favorites?”
I know immediately but I pretend to think
“Hmm… I think snow angel is my favorite by Reneé Rapp and then by Chappell Roan… kaleidoscope!”
I smile knowing what her next question will be and I say
“And I think of my dad in snow angel because it talks about addiction and my dad is an alcoholic. Which you know is why I spend a lot of time here. And I think about a girl for kaleidoscope as well”
She smiles and says
“That’s rough. I’m so sorry about your dad”
I shrug and say
“It’s alright. I can’t change him. But maybe he’ll be better one day”
I sign and space out for a split second before I shake myself out of it and say
“Let’s finish practicing this trig!”
Honestly. It kind of startled Natasha a bit when I said that because she seemed to be spaced out as well.
“Oh! Right yes! Sorry I get so distracted all the time”
I smirk and say
“It’s okay I do too.”
We smile at each other and finish working on trig. Then I say
“We better wrap it up. We’ve been up here for an hour and Yelena is sure to start crawling her way up here soon”
“Yeah I guess so.”
I get up to go and I turn around when Natasha says
“Wait! Y/n, I just want to thank you. You didn’t have to do this for me”
I smile and say
“Don’t worry about it. I needed it too. So we’re even.”
Then I turn to her door and she follows me to the room.
As I step out of the door, I turn around and smile at nat. I hold my hand out and twirl a piece of her hair in my hand and say
"You should wear your hair natural more."
She furrows her eyebrows and says
"Why?"
I sigh and say
"It's so beautiful. I love it so much"
After I say that I kind of realize how close I got to her and how she is super tense.
Fuck I'm making her uncomfortable. God dammit y/ n you dumbass
I pull away after accidentally looking at her lips a bit too long. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks and say
"I should probably get going. Yelena is waiting for me probably so bye!”
Nat nods her head equally as awkward as me and says
"Okay bye! I love you!"
I freeze when she says this and she immediately realizes her mistake and slams the door in my face.
Did she really mean it? What the fuck?
I turn around and am about to go to the living room downstairs where Yelena is inevitably waiting for me but then I make a last minute decision and turn back around.
Yelena can wait
Nat’s pov
Fuck. I just did that. Shit shit shit. It just slipped out. I didn't even mean to. And I slammed the fucking door on her too!! She probably hates me
I am pacing back and forth in my bedroom as l contemplate my life. Then she starts banging on my door and I weigh my options.
If I let her in she might punch me in the face. But then again a punch to the face doesn’t sound half bad.
She stops knocking and says
“Nat I know you can hear me. Please let me in”
Her voice is so soft I can’t help but listen.
Y/n’s pov
The second the door swings open I step in and close the door.
“Tell me you mean it”
She looks dumbfounded and says
“Wha- what do I mean?”
I roll my eyes and say
“Tell me you meant it when you said that!”
She looks scared but defeated and says
“I meant it. I’m so sorry I-”
The second she says that I immediately pounce on her.
Her lips are so soft. And she kisses back immediately.
We kiss until I have to pull away for air and I giggle at her silly face.
“I love you too”
She widens her eyes and says
“You do?”
I laugh and say
“You know. You’re really stupid for someone who is better than me at trig”
She blushes and says
“You know, you’re really mean for someone who claims to love me”
I dramatically gasp and say
“I can’t let our friends think that you have the upper hand on me now can I?”
“I guess you’ll just have to suck it up from now on”
“From now on?”
I am literally standing in her arms with our lips slightly swollen and pink and I asked that.
She gets nervous and pulls away and says
“Well. Yeah. I thought maybe since this happened it meant we would be a thing?”
I sigh and say
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to confuse you”
I said the wrong thing again. God dammit. Why can’t I just be normal?
She gets scared and says
“Oh. I thought you liked me. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize”
I immediately fix my mistake
“No no no! I meant I was a little nervous and confused. And I didn’t mean to confuse you. I questioned it because I didn’t know if you wanted us to be a thing or not. I would love to be a thing. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to”
I stumble over my words and ramble
“Y/n, I want to be a thing”
I smile and say
“Oh okay. That’s good”
She smiles and I say
“So does that mean?”
“That were girlfriends? Yes”
I smile and hug her and say
“This is unreal”
She pulls away and says
“I know. I’ve liked you for so long now. Honestly I think the girls just wanted you to ‘tutor’ me as a ploy to set us up”
I laugh and say
“Probably”
Then I realize that I haven’t gone down to Yelena yet and I say
“I need to spend some time with Lena. I’m sorry. Oh my god! I just realized what is Yelena gonna do when she finds out about us! She’s gonna hate me forever and try to kill me!”
I start pacing back and forth and then Natasha grabs my arms to stop me and says
“Hey hey! It’s gonna be okay alright? She might have a hard time at first but she’ll get over herself eventually.”
I sigh and say
“Thanks natty. You always know how to calm me down”
She smiles and I look at her lips again.
Before we can kiss I say
“Maybe we just don’t have to tell her yet. Let her figure it out on her own?”
Natasha smiles and says
“I like that idea. Now kiss me”
I listen and touch our lips together. It’s soft and fiery at the same time. Like her touch is burning me but it’s also soothing at the same time.
She runs her tongue along my lip and tries to gain access into my mouth but I’m a little hard to get so I don’t comply.
She obviously takes charge in the bedroom because she never acts this brave any other time.
Once she gets tired of me rejecting her she grabs my butt and I gasp when she picks me up.
She uses this time to slip her tongue into my mouth and I moan at her taste.
My hands thread into her hair as she lays us down on her bed.
We’re so lost in the moment that we don’t hear her door open
“Y/n when are you guys going to be don-”
Yelena freezes in the doorway and the rest of the girls are standing behind her with all different reactions.
We pull away at her words and our eyes are wide and Natasha scurries to get off me.
Once Yelena composes herself she clears her throat and says
“Um. Gross. But kinda… cute.”
Honestly this kind of makes my heart calm down a bit. I thought it was going to jump out of my throat for a second.
Then Wanda breaks the silence and says
“Eee!! This is great!”
Maria smirks and crosses her arms
“Glad you two losers finally figured it out”
Yelena turns to them and says
“Figured what out?”
Carol rolls her eyes and says
“These dumbasses have been crushing on each other forever!”
We both are standing there and Yelena says
“Oh. I didn’t know that. But I guess now I do”
I sigh and say
“What do you think Lena?”
She thinks for a sec and says
“I don’t give a fuck. Love who you love. But please for the love of God don’t do anything while I’m here”
I smile and say
“Don’t worry we won’t.”
“Great now that that is settled I have a movie to watch with my best friend”
Yelena grabs me and pulls me downstairs and the rest of the girls come with us.
Thankfully Lena and I never sat on the same area of the couch. She always sits on the left side and I sit in the corner of the L so nat can join me.
She sits behind me and Lena looks over, fake gags, and then plays the movie.
——————————————
Taglist
@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat
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luckyshinyhunter · 6 days ago
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Gravity Falls Headcanons
Warning, contains drinking and spoilers for the entire show, so bewarb!
The twins have a YouTube channel.
The Pines goes fishing on the Stan-o-war.
Stan, Fidds and Ford are Bisexual.
Mabel, Wendy and Pacifica are Pansexual.
Dipper and Wendy are Trans, while Tracey is Asexual and Quattro is Aro-ace.
Stan sometimes drinks when he's working on the portal but he stops when he heard that the kids were coming to stay with him for the summer.
Mabel introduced Stan to fanfiction, he made a bunch of fics about The Duchess Approves even though they are not age-appropriate but Soos likes them to show his support.
The Pines family, Soos and Fiddleford are Autistic.
Ford does some yoga and meditation.
Soos and Melody temporarily owns the Stanmobile.
Fiddleford got a makeover, thanks to Pacifica and Tate.
Soos and Stan spend Father's day together.
While helping Stan with his memory problem, Ford doesn't wanna talk about Filbrick, knowing that it felt trigging talking about the bad memories with him involved.
Soos hosts Karaoke night as the Mystery Shack.
Ford made a special back brace for Fidds.
Though Stan is the better cook, Ford is kinda bad at cooking but does practice and gets better from time to time, especially at baking.
Dipper helps Mabel via tutoring, but Stan or Ford does help them with homework from time to time.
After reconciling with his dad, Tate and Fiddleford would go fishing or do a jam session.
Stan give the kids boxing lessons and give them a old speed bag to practice on, Dipper mostly uses it just to remove stress, of course Stan is proud to see the kid hold his own.
Ford helps Mabel with her new sweaters design and models for her or add new concoctions to her Mabel juice.
Dipper and the Multibear are fans of Sabrina Carpenter and would sing some of her songs during Karaoke night.
Sometimes Stan visits the farm where Compy lives to check on him and plans to break him out.
Even though they still celebrate Hanukkah, the Pines family also celebrate Christmas.
The stan twins loved The Wizard of Oz, but haven't heard of Wicked until Mabel had the gang watch it for movie night.
Ford teared up because the film reminded him of a lot of their childhood and how much he relate to both Glinda and Elphaba.
Stan does too but tries to brush it off and said the film was fine until Soos caught him humming to popular the next day.
Even though he's does have some resentment towards Ford, Tate respects his dad's choice of giving Ford a chance.
The kids made a list of old and new shows to watch for the stan twins.
Stan can speak fluent spanish and brazilian while Ford can speak french, japanese and many other languages.
Stan and Dipper have their own guys night, even inviting Ford, Fiddleford and Soos to join if they have the time.
Mabel, Pacifica and Soos are huge Chappell Roan fans.
Stan can play the ukulele while Ford can play the pan flute.
Ford had a crush on Fiddleford since college but after he got married, he eventually moved on until he called him about making the portal.
After weirdmageddon, Ford confessed his love for him, he was shocked but felt the same way back.
Ford and Fiddleford text or video chat a lot, talking about the discoveries they made.
Even though he finds it a bit irritating, Stan is happy and is very supportive to his brother, even if his taste is somewhat questionable.
The kids received packages from both the stan twins and the residents of Gravity Falls, leading up to the day they come back.
Soos got Fiddleford in a lot of anime and the two watch a bunch of classic or new anime together.
Ford gave Dipper his very own journal to record his own adventures.
After coming across them in the woods, Fiddleford pretty much adopted the Dipper clones and have them live in his mansion.
Stan does cuts his hair sometimes, but likes keep it longer or have it as a ponytale.
Ford still has the green shorts from college.
Dipper and Soos got Ford and Fiddleford invested in Pokémon.
Ford and Fiddleford would go hiking or make robots together as some form of a date.
The stan twins reconnect with Shermie, As expected he was pissed for not telling him about everything that happen but happy to see them again
Instead of destroying them, Ford gave the journals to Fidds, hiding them where only he could find them.
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