#know what i stand for and who i am… i know this matters to few but me but i’m putting it out there nonetheless

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 13

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: Ahhh! I almost own a house.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen struts down the hall, the white satin limning her figure. She is shameless as she passes soldiers but she needn’t worry for their judgments. You peek up at the few errant eyes that follow her, though many pass without even a glance in her direction. Servants course through the corridors, busy with preparations for the morrow’s departure. 

You think of asking Queen Jazlene whether now is not the best time. If she should be more concerned with her venture north. Of all she’s acquired of the queen’s former possessions, there is not a fur among her chests. Nothing more than a trim of squirrel or rabbit along a collar. The summer kingdom does not warrant the need. And certainly, you think, the king must be equally busied by the pending journey. 

As ever, your duty keeps you silent. You do not know better than a queen. You bide her whims, not your own. You follow the soft whisk of the robes hem and your mind wanders in your stead. You think of the dark gardens and the king’s words. 

‘Should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.’ He must be eager to return home. You can’t help but harbour your own impatience. For all you’ve heard of the Hinterlands, you cannot picture them well. You want to see them yourself. It is the only time in your life you really ever longed to see something entirely unfamiliar. 

The queen stops and the soldiers on either side of the door shift, alert at her approach. The do not look welcoming. You wring your hands behind your back. What can you do but let the queen proceed? 

“Let me through,” she demands, “I must see the king.” 

“Your highness,” the rusty-haired soldier drawls, “he is not receiving--” 

“He is my husband,” she sneers, “I am the queen.” She points to herself, “I give you orders, sir. Not the reverse.” 

The other man huffs and tilts his head to the other as if to say, ‘don’t bother’. The first soldier raises his elbow to hit the door beside him. 

“Your highness, you have a visitor,” he calls through. 

“A visitor?” Jazlene scoffs and steps forward, grabbing the handles of the doors to try to force her way through. “I am more--” She shakes the doors as they offer resistance from the other side. You can see clearly through the crack between them that they are latched within. 

The metal grinds inside as the lock is slid out of place. The queen blusters through as a dark-haired man stands by the left door, watching behind her as she blows in like a storm. You pause in the doorway, uncertain if you should go further. 

The king sits at the table of his receiving chamber, maps unfurled and kept unrolled by heavy ornaments. He has one arm on the chair and his other hand against the tabletop. He watches his wife with his golden eyes, his lips straight and unamused. The man who opened the door, watches with a crooked grin. 

“Husband, I have come to see you. As we have much travel ahead, I figured it was the best time for us to--” 

“The best time?” King Geralt ponders flatly, “we ready for the ride north. We must anticipate the remaining rebels and assuage lingering acrimony. We must also account for the snows that will meet us in the Hinterland. This campaign has kept me long and the winter will be there to greet us.” 

“Let the servants trouble for it,” she insists. 

The man by the door flutters his fingers at you, “in?” He mouths. 

You blink, uncertain. You step inside hesitantly and step to the edge of the other door. He pushes the left one shut and turns to watch the interaction with glee. 

“You should trouble for it,” the king reproaches, “you should act as queen and so you should think of your people.” 

“Husband, do not presume to educate me. I have had tutors all my life. I understand these things. I was borne to be a lady, to mind a castle--” 

“A castle not a realm,” he shakes his head, “this is no banquet.” 

“Ugh,” she huffs, “what has gotten into you? Last night--” 

“It is today,” he insists over her, “I am occupied.” He shifts his chair pointed and frames an area on the maps with his large hands. “Jaskier,” he calls, “come, we must determine our way through Hare’s Pass.” 

“Your highness,” the man jaunts forward bouncily and as he nears the table, he pulls out a chair, “Queen Jazlene, please, have my seat.” 

The king looks at his companion with a deathly glimmer. The lord in his cornflower jacket is unbothered by the distaste aimed in his direction. He smirks back defiantly. 

“Thank you, sir,” Jazlene simpers and sits with her back straight and her chest pushed out, “I think I’ve forgotten which one you are.” 

“Lord Jaskier,” he intones, “I held the capital while the king claimed his beautiful wife.” 

She giggles and runs her hand along the front of her robe, “oh, how valiant, sir.” 

“Jaskier,” the king growls again, “put your mind back to the road--” 

“We have it figured, your highness,” the lord rebuffs, “surely you should enjoy this time you have in one place with your wife.” Jaskier takes another stool and sits at the table, “I should very much like to know this summer queen better. You secret her away--” 

The king sighs. His fingers tap in irritation on the table. He sits back and throws his hand up. 

“I see you are no help, as usual,” the king snips. 

“And you are tedious,” the lord smirks again. “My queen,” the man sits forward, his attention on Jazlene, “I traveled the summer lands once before. You see, I fancy myself a musician and as a young boy, I would play for the courts. I never ventured to Debray but I was at Harlowe. It is closeby.” 

“I know Harlowe,” Jazlene brightens, forgetting her mission for talk of herself. “Yes, I went there often for their harvest fairs. Were you there when Lord Edmund was still alive?” 

“Ah, yes, I believe he wasn’t there long after I left for the next county,” Jaskier artfully feeds her self-importance. 

“He was a good man. Of the few my father respected,” she mourns with her hand to her chest. She shakes her head and pauses with a sullen sigh, “maid,” she snaps her head up, “bring wine for us.” 

“No wine,” King Geralt counters swiftly. 

“We have a guest, husband, surely we should entertain him according to etiquette. In these summer lands, we offer sustenance to our guests,” she argues. 

“Bring warm milk then. You needn’t be glazed over with wine on the morrow--” 

“I am the queen and I am grown, I will have wine,” Jazlene waves her hand at you tersely, “maid!” 

The king glances at you. You stand in indecision. You can defy neither but in that moment, you must choose one or the other. His golden eyes drift over to the queen and back to you. 

“Go, fetch wine,” he relents. 

You bow your head and spin to set off on the task. Your thankful to escape the tension that floods the room. You can sense that the queen’s intrusion is unwelcome and yet that lord ignores the king’s mood. Almost as if he means to agitate him. 

You weave through the disarray of the corridors down to the kitchen. Barrels of pickled foods and crates of dried goods are stacked, waiting to be loaded onto carts for the distance ahead. The king must still think of feeding his army, and now, a royal retinue. 

You claim a bottle of wine amid the hectic furor and some goblets. You’re out of breath as you return to the upper floors and slow yourself to regain composure as you approach the king’s chamber. You’re let within without obstruction. Just the maid. 

You cross to the table and set the goblets upright, then the heavy bottle. Jazlene ahems and taps the brim impatient before you can uncork the bottle. The neck moves away from your reach as Lord Jaskier snatches it instead. He opens it easily and pours the queen a cup as the king leans heavily on an elbow. As you glance over, you meet his golden eyes and quickly shy away. You see he is not happy. You thought by Jazlene’s measure, thing’s might have been improving. 

You take your place by the wall. The king sighs. He does that a lot, as if he means to say something but will not. Lord Jaskier slides a goblet towards him. 

“Drink and let loose, your highness, you can’t be surly upon the road,” Jaskier chides. 

The king does not move. He glares at his company then looks at the ceiling. Queen Jazlene slurps loudly. 

“How charming you are, my lord, a wonder his highness likes you so much,” she chirps. 

“A surprise to me as well but I think my loyalty more tolerable than my other traits. Yet, you’ve yet to the king bellowing the most bawdy ballad. He is particular lively after a battle,” Jaskier winks at his liege tauntingly and receives nothing in return. “Mm, how about a game? The king is fond of those. How about it, then?” 

The lord lifts his cup and holds it before his lips, watching the king in his cantankerous glower. Another sigh as he sits forwards and tilts a hand indifferently.  

“If it keeps you from chattering,” the king mutters as he clears the heavy ornaments and rolls the map up. He focuses on that as Jaskier pulls a pouch free of his belt. 

“This is one he taught me. The old king before him was fond of it too. The mind’s of rulers, hm?” Jaskier explains as he loosens the tie of the bag and pours out similar pieces to the ones in Geralt’s purse. “Have you played it?” 

Jazlene keeps her hand on her cup. The king continues to clear the table, pushing aside the cup meant for him as he shifts the bottle off another map. He stands and gathers the rolled parchment. He approaches you. 

“Bring these to my bedchamber,” he bids under his breath. 

As you take them, your sleeves brush his and his fingers drag along the fabric of your dress. He stares down at you, his breath fuming like a hearth. You hug the maps and he backs away, returning to the table. You take your order and find your way through the east door into his bed chamber. 

You set down the maps on the chest near the foot of the grand bed. His sword leans against the frame, tall in its sheath. You stop to admire the thick handle and its well-hewn grooves. It must be heavy. 

You tear your admiration from the weapon and return to the receiving chamber. Jaskier reviews the rules as Geralt rolls his fingers against the armrest, bored by the explanation. You resume your vigil and stare at the wall. 

Pieces are dolled out, dice are counted, and the round begins. The king is let to have the first turn. He plays the same as he did against you. It must be some strategy. The queen is prompted to have her go but she is silent. She hums and stares down at the table. Jaskier whispers behind his hand, drawing your gaze. 

“Let her play her own turn,” the king insists, “isn’t any fun playing against two of you.” 

“Your highness, I was only doing my duty as a royal advisor,” Jaskier returns playfully. “By all means, my beautiful queen, I am certain you are as a clever as you are elegant.” 

Jazlene preens in the praise. She drinks some more wine then rolls a dice, seemingly without thought. Several of her pieces are plucked up by both king and lord. She pouts. 

“Wait, what happened?” She mopes. 

“Rules,” Geralt grumbles. “Jaskier, go on then, take my bronze.” 

“I know your tricks,” the lord replies, “I will not fall for it. I’ll have your silver.” 

Jaskier rolls the diamond dice and groans. The king takes his silver instead. 

“You’ve switched out the dice, certainly,” Jaskier accuses. 

“You whine about chance,” the king rebukes and rolls, taking even more silver from his advisor. “And again.” 

He gestures to Jazlene and her brow ripples. You can see she doesn’t understand. She will want to use the square dice then, she might have the iron back that she lost. She uses the slightly rounded die instead. Jaskier is already counting her gold. 

“I don’t understand,” she crosses her arms, “this game makes no sense.” 

“It is your first attempt,” Jaskier assures her, “you will get better.” 

“It’s boring,” she sits back and drinks more wine. 

Jaskier has a swig of his own as he rolls. He claims his silver back from the king and some from Jazlene. She shakes her head and waves you over with her hand. You can see her goblet is empty as you near. You lift the bottle to pour as the king has his turn. He loses a few iron but doesn’t seem to mind. 

The queen’s turn comes and you linger, examining her pieces. Your lips move slightly. Square, square, square. Your eyes flit up and find the king’s watching you. Oh no. 

“Wine, maid,” Jaskier clunks down his cup with a hollow noise. 

You move around Jazlene’s chair as she snarls under her breath. She rolls the triangle die. Her gold is all gone. She slaps her hands down and you rescind the bottle before you can pour as Jaskier’s cup wobbles. He laughs at the queen’s dismay and she sweeps away her pieces and dice before she can lose. 

“It isn’t fair! I don’t understand.” 

“If you don’t understand, ask. Do not be impetulant,” King Geralt reprimands. “You make a mess like a child.” 

“Do not speak to me as one,” she spits back. “I am not!” 

“Your behaviour would suggest otherwise,” the king says. 

“Now, now, perhaps it would be fairer with a forth, eh? Trios always do prove imbalanced,” Jaskier intones.  

As you go to pour the wine, you are suddenly pulled off your feet. You land in his lap and nearly drop the bottle. You hug it close as you notice the king lurch, sitting straight, only to stop himself on the edge of his chair. 

“Eh, do not handle the maid as such,” he demands. “She serves the queen.” 

“She may join us, yes? The queen could have an ally. We will play as pairs.” 

“Let the maid go,” the king grits. 

“Oh, do settle,” Jaskier unhooks his arm from around you. You stand and let your nerves settle, steadying your hands to pour the wine. “You are no fun, your highness.” 

Jazlene giggles, “oh he certainly is not. So dour,” she sounds like Lady Rezlyn in that moment. Often the duchess would throw barbs at her husband shamelessly. “Even his games are dull.” 

“You needn’t play,” King Geralt shoves his chair back and stands, “it was not my suggestion.” 

“She is right. You are much too serious,” Jaskier remarks. 

You leave the wine and back away. The air is thick. You feel as if you should go but cannot without dismissal. The king roils hotly as he exhales loudly. 

“Far too serious,” Jazlene trills, “he hasn’t time for any sort of fun, has he? He must attend his kingly duties and yet, he neglects his husbandly ones.” 

The king lets out a growl. He sneers at his wife as Jaskier’s laughter subsides. The lord looks alarmed as he peeks between the royal couples. 

“Mm, suppose it is time I see to my own luggage,” he rises. 

“No, stay, drink your wine,” King Geralt insists brusquely, “you and the queen can have mine,” he grips the goblet by the brim and shoves it towards Jazlene as the contents slosh. “You will find me attending my dour kingly duties, should you think to recall your own.” 

The king spins and stalks off, hands in fists, and bulls through the doors. They slam behind him and make you jump. You blink at the wood as your heart pounds. For as much as the queen wants her marriage to improve, she is hardly helping herself. 

“Ah,” Jaskier sits with a tut, “he can be a touch sensitive, can’t he?” 

Jazlene laughs, though you hear the nervous rattle in it, “can’t he?” 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #the witcher #winter's king

[ghostwnby]

Crashing Tides

Authors note: So remember about 3 or 4 ish months ago I said I was working on a surfer shop worker!Daniel + moody rich 19 year old!Max age gap romance fic? Well, surprise! After a billion years the first part of it is finally here. I'm not 100% happy with it but I decided to finally just say fuck it and bite the bullet with it. I am hoping to write more in the future about this au but in the meantime if you have any suggestions or ideas about this au please feel free to share them with me :) my asks are always open <3 otherwise, I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: language

Word count: 2,029 (2k)

----

The warmth of the Australian sun beats down harshly on Daniel’s skin as he tries his best to dodge and weave through the crowded boardwalk, not wanting to run anyone over with his bike. He wipes the layer of sweat that had gathered on his forehead off on the back of his hand, cringing slightly at the sheer amount of it. 

He silently regrets not taking a shower before leaving the house, but at this rate, with the amount of people blocking his way, he was going to be late.

Damn tourists. 

He can hear his boss, Mark, now: "Look, who finally decided to show up! I’m glad you think this company runs on your schedule.” He rolls his eyes at the mental image of the older Australian man passive-aggressively scolding him. You would think a person who owns a beachside surf shop would be more laid-back, but no. Ever since his wife left him last summer, his boss has been nothing but a crotchety old man. And trust me, Daniel has tried many times to invite him out to bars to be his wingman for the night, but every time he offers, he gets immediately shut down and scolded for even offering. 

Sorry, he was just trying to be a good co-worker and get his boss some stress relief in the form of a one-night stand with a beautiful lady. 

Pulling up to the shop, Daniel rushes off his bike, hastily reaching into his bag to grab his bike lock and securing it to the pole near the side of the building. Once secure, he practically bolts into the front entrance of the shop, accidentally slamming the door open a bit too hard for his liking, causing a few customers and his coworker, Lando, to perk their heads up and look in his direction. 

“I know. I know. But technically, I’m early. I still have a minute until I’m supposed to be here.” Daniel says matter-of-factly, shining a bright smile at the younger man as he walks up to the front counter that his co-worker is lounging lazily against. 

“You're cutting it close, mate.” Lando comments as he glances up at the shark-themed clock on the wall. (What? His boss might be an ass, but at least he’s an ass with good taste.) 

10:59 am

Lando shakes his head. “I don’t know if you want to push your luck too much. Mark is in a pissy mood today.” He explains.

Daniel rolls his eyes. “When is he not?”

Lando glances over his shoulder, making sure the door to the manager’s office is shut before whispering, “I don't know, mate; he seems grouchier than normal. Like something’s really ticked him off.” 

Daniel raises an eyebrow at the younger man. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the door of the manager’s office slams open, revealing his boss on the other side.

“Speak of the devil.” Lando whispers as both of the men straighten back up as their boss steps out of his office. 

"Daniel, I'm so glad you finally decided to join us for your shift that you were scheduled for.” Mark greets, scowling at him.

“Good morning to you too, Mark.” Daniel says, not bothering to hide the sarcasm that coats his words. The older man scoffs at him, rolling his eyes in a way Daniel can only describe as Oscar-worthy with how dramatic it was. 

“Whatever. It’s not like I have been waiting for you all morning to get your lazy ass here.” Mark hisses, motioning his hand to the shark clock on the wall. 11:00 am. Daniel has to repress the urge to roll his eyes. He’s been there for less than 2 minutes, and he’s already having to deal with Mark’s bullshit. That has to be a new record. 

"Sorry, I wasn’t here earlier. Emily decided to have a breakdown this morning about having to stay with my parents for the day.” Daniel explains half-heartedly, knowing no matter what explanation or excuse he gives the older man, he’s not going to be pleased either way.

“Well, maybe you should invest in some parenting classes then since you aren’t doing a great job at controlling your kid.” Mark sneers, “You know what? Never mind, I don’t care at this point.” 

Daniel can feel his frustration growing by the second. Honestly can’t he just back off? He’s here, isn’t he? It’s not like he’s one of the only workers there, besides Lando, who does his job. If it wasn’t for the fact that the pay was nice, Daniel would have been out of there the second Mark started acting this way last summer. Plus he’s been working at the surf shop for almost 5 years now and what has he gotten for it? Nothing except for the temporary title of shift lead whenever Mark isn’t there. 

As if he can sense the tension in the air between the two older men, Lando decides to speak up. 

“Oh uh..by the way, Mark, this dude called earlier. I think he said his name was Jos? He said his son would be here around 11:30.” 

Lando and Daniel both watch as Mark inhales deeply as if Lando’s words were the most aggravating thing he has ever heard. 

“That brings me to my next point. A friend of my old man asked me to hire his son for the summer while they are vacationing here.” Mark explains. Daniel and Lando share a confused look. Mark continues, “The reason why? I have no clue. Something about how he wants his son to learn what the real world is like even though his pocket money is more than what we all make in a year combined.” 

Daniel raises an eyebrow at him, “And you just agreed? Just like that? Who’s going to train him?”

Mark smirks devilishly, “Well that’s where you come in Daniel.” 

“What do you mean ‘that’s where I come in’?”

“Well, you are always complaining that you’ve been here the longest and still haven’t gotten any type of raise or promotion. Well here you go, I’m promoting you to training associate. You are in charge of training the kid and also keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.” 

Daniel can’t help but feel the heat of anger from earlier rise beneath his skin. “So you expect me to not only train this kid I’ve never even met but also babysit the little brat as well? What the hell do you think I am? A damn babysitter?!” He snaps, crossing his arms and scowling at the older man. 

“I’m nineteen. I don’t need a babysitter.”

All three of the men snap their heads back towards the front door, only to see, who Daniel presumes is the kid Mark was mentioning, standing in the entryway. Daniel blinks as he tries to take in the teen’s appearance. He doesn’t look like any nineteen-year-old Daniel has ever seen. Sure, he has semi-smooth skin, with a blemish here and there, and an overall youthful glow about him but for some reason, something’s off about him. Maybe it’s the way his shoulders are a bit broader than his own or how his jaw is a bit too sharp for Daniel’s liking. Either way, he doesn’t like it.

“Max! I didn’t expect you to be here so soon! Is it 11:30 already?” 

Daniel glances at the clock on the wall. 11:09 am.

The teen trudges over to the front counter where the others are standing and crosses his arms. “My dad said I should show up early just in case you guys were busy or something. But, by the looks of it, you aren’t and are instead talking bad about me behind my back.” Max explains, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. 

Daniel looks over at the teen, studying his face more intently now that he is standing next to him instead of a few feet away at the door. His brow is furrowed. His pale skin is tinted with a shade of pink from the harsh Australian sun. There is a collection of freckles that are scattered across his jawline and up to the middle of his cheek, with a single one lying on his upper lip. He notices now that the teen is just a bit taller than him. Not by much but enough to make Daniel even more wary than he was before. 

Mark shakes his head, “Please forgive my employee, Daniel, here Max. He has had a bit of a rough morning so his mood isn’t the best right now.” 

‘The only reason why I have had a rough morning is because of you jackass.’ Daniel thinks to himself as he shoots a glare at his boss. 

Max rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

Daniel and Lando exchange glances once again, as if to telepathically ask each other if this is what they are really going to have to deal with for the next two and half months. 

The sound of Mark clearing his throat makes the two of them look up towards their boss. 

“Anyway, as I was saying. My employee, Daniel here, will be in charge of training you and just overall making sure you're settling in here nicely.” Mark explains, clearly trying to skip over the part where Daniel called Max a brat that he has to babysit. 

Daniel shifts his eyes over to the teen next to him. Max doesn’t look impressed. He still has his arms crossed and his lips have formed a tight line of annoyance. Honestly, Daniel can’t blame him. If he was in his shoes, aka if he was a rich kid who probably hasn’t worked a day in his life and his parents suddenly made him get a job at a dingy old surf shop while they were on a  summer vacation, he would be pissed too. 

There is a beat of awkward silence that fills the air between the four. 

“I’m guessing this is the part where I introduce myself?” Lando chuckles awkwardly, drawing the other’s attention to himself. Max stares at him silently, as if he is waiting for the other to say something else that will ultimately aggravate him even more. 

“I’m Lando. I started working here about a year and a half ago. I go to the university just up the street. I usually work in the mornings because I have night classes.” He explains. Max doesn’t say anything, instead, he sighs, uninterested. 

Lando scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uh..When I’m not working or in class you can usually find me in my dorm playing video games.” The mention of video games makes the teen’s ears perk up with interest.

“You play video games?” Max asks in a slightly less annoyed voice than before.

“Yeah! I play all sorts of games like GTA, God of War, and F123. I actually stream my gameplay on Twitch with my friends from time to time. You should join sometime. I bet it would be really fun.” 

Daniel doesn’t know if it’s the heat getting to him or what but he swears he sees the faintest hint of a smile on Max’s face when Lando mentions him joining him in a gaming session. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Seemingly pleased with the exchange, Mark claps his hands together like a coach trying to round up his team for a debriefing after a game. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, Max, how would you like to follow Daniel around for today to get a feel of the environment and how things work around here?” 

Daniel can feel the teen’s eyes on him before he even turns his head. His stare is as cold as ice and Daniel worries that if the teen doesn’t look away, he might burn a hole through his head. 

The universe must have been on his side because just as Daniel thought he would never look away, Max shifts his eyes toward Mark. The stare he gives Mark is just as cold. 

“Whatever.” 

“Perfect. Now let’s get started.”

#f1 fic #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #maxiel #formula 1 #red bull f1 #mclaren #lando norris

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 — 𝐎.𝐑. [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x GN!Reader (no pronouns)

SUMMARY — A child is unaccounted for and the hospital goes into lockdown which makes it a lot harder for Reader to avoid Wilson

WORD COUNT — 2.2K

WARNINGS — mentions/decriptions of blood

NOTE — Okay here's a quick little one shot that will hopefully hold you guys over until I get that series done. As you guys have probably already guessed this is set in 6x17 and I have a few more ideas of different scenarios that could happen in this episode so you may be seeing more of that :)

It was always an odd feeling when an OR was quiet. All you could hear were the sounds of your shoes, making the floor squeak as you walked, littering bloody footprints wherever you went. You still had your mask and gloves on and were about to leave so the room could be cleaned and sterilized for the next surgery when you heard an announcement over the hospital’s PA. 

You looked over to your friend and colleague who was just removing his gloves as you listened to them say the hospital was under lockdown and no one was to leave their areas until further notice. 

“Guess we’re stuck here a little longer,” he said and you looked around you. It wasn’t the most pleasant place to be stuck, blood littered the floor like a murder scene and surgical tools were messily placed on tables and stands. 

“Yeah,” you sighed and followed his lead, taking off your gloves and discarding them, followed by your mask. 

“You okay?” Wilson asked, coming closer to you.

“M fine,” you nodded and moved towards a wall so you could lean against it. “Would just…rather be at home. Or in a shower,” you looked down at your bloody scrubs. “How are mine dirtier than yours?”

“Cause you’re a messy surgeon,” he teased. 

“Right, and it’s not because you nicked a vein that sprayed all over me.”

“I said I was sorry,” he came over next to you and leaned up against the wall in the same manner you were. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“If you’re thinking that if you don’t sit down your legs are gonna give out anyways then yes, I am thinking that,” you nodded and he gave you the encouragement to sit down on the OR floor by taking the lead and doing it first. 

There were a few moments of silence that passed before Wilson spoke up again. 

“Hey are you…sure you’re okay?” he asked. 

“We lost a patient, James,” you sighed. “Kinda knocks the wind out of you.”

“I know, but you know it wasn’t our fault, it wasn’t anything we could have fixed or gotten to for that matter.”

“I know, but it doesn’t really make me feel any better,” you admitted, pulling your knees up a little closer to your chest. 

Wilson reached over and took off your hair cap and you lazily turned your head around before reaching over and doing the same, messing up his now shorter hair. It wasn’t as satisfying to do as when it was longer. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, extending his hand out for you to take. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and reached out, interlacing your fingers with his, letting your back melt further into the wall when you felt his thumb brush against the back of your hand. 

“I don’t think talking will fix my problem,” you turned your head, still letting it rest against the wall as you looked over at him. 

“This isn’t just about the patient,” he inferred. “You’ve been…distant lately.” 

“No I haven’t,” you shook your head and pulled your hand out of his hold. 

“Yes you have,” he sat upright and looked at you curiously. “You just pulled away, again.” 

You pushed yourself up so you were standing again and Wilson followed you. You’d never been claustrophobic, but in that moment, it felt like the walls of the OR were closing in on you. 

“Bee, come on, please talk to me,” he begged.

“You haven’t called me Bee since residency.” 

“You’re deflecting,” he placed his hands on his hips. “What’s going on with you?” 

“I’m trying to tell you, nothing’s going on,” you began to pace the room, wringing your hands in front of you. It’s like you weren’t even trying to be subtle that there was a problem. Every time a lie came out of your mouth your body did something to tell Wilson whatever you were saying wasn’t true. 

“No, you just don’t want to tell me what’s going on,” Wilson conceded. “I just don’t like to see you torn up like this, you know that, right?” 

You stopped your pacing and nodded your head. 

“I miss you, we don’t see each other anymore and I-,” 

“James stop,” you spoke quietly, so much so he barely heard you. 

His eyes fell on you again, watching as you looked down at your hands, your mouth partially open as if you were trying to say something else, but it wasn’t coming out.

“I-I was just trying to-,” 

“I know what you were trying to do,” you said. “Make me feel better, because you’re a doctor, it’s in your nature. You don’t have to make me feel better about this.” 

“But I want to.”

“You don’t even know what it is,” you chuckled humourlessly, moving closer to the OR doors. 

“I-I could, and you could let me try and help-,” 

“James, you're not going to want to help with this.” 

“You can’t know that unless-,” 

“I don’t know what we are,” you blurted and squeezed your eyes shut, hating yourself for being so weak, feeling your back hit the wall again.

“Y-You don’t know what we are?” he looked at you, but you could see past his furrowed brows and concerned features, the thoughts racing in his head, his hands now unsure what to do at his sides. 

“We’ve known each other a long time, James,” you licked your lips and pressed them together. “And throughout that time you have been my closest confidant, my go to person, when I think of someone I can count on and someone who cares about me, I think of you.” 

“I think of you in that way too,” he said, but you shook your head. 

“No, you don’t,” you shook your head. “Because while we joked around, and looked after each other, and followed each other from hospital to hospital you got married, and then divorced, and then married, and then divorced, and then-,” 

“Married, and then divorced,” he nodded his head, filling in the last blank for you. 

“Three marriages, I was there for all of it,” you looked up at the ceiling. “I just thought maybe…I don’t know.” 

He knew what you thought. You thought that maybe since you’d both stuck around for so long, since you’d seen the best and the worst, that maybe it meant something more. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you shook your head, wishing you could disappear into the walls. “You don’t feel the same.” 

“Bee, it’s not that,” he shook his head. “But I-I can’t give you what you want.” 

“If you can’t give me what I want then how is it anything else?” you didn’t understand what he was saying. 

“It’s better if we stay friends, just…just trust me.” 

You nodded and pressed your lips together, trying to push back the tears that were beginning to form, but to no avail. 

Wilson bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head, coming over to you and reaching out to offer you some sort of comfort. You wanted to turn away, shake your head and tell him to give you space, but when his hand came to cup your cheek you just leaned in closer to it, letting your tears flow silently and freely. 

“Is this your definition of friends?” you asked. “Because if it is I don’t know if I can do this.” 

“I…” Wilson closed his eyes, but he could still see the hurt and pain glimmering in your irises. “It’s not you.” 

“Oldest cliche in the book,” you sniffed and wiped away some of your tears. “Still trying to make me feel better, but I think maybe you’re more suited for treating cancer. Maybe you should stick to that.” 

“No, I-I mean it,” his hand dropped from your face and this time you reached out to gently hold his fingers, to maintain some form of contact. “It’s me. My…” he took a deep breath and tried to get himself to meet your gaze, but he couldn’t look you in the eyes. “You said it yourself. I’ve had three marriages, my girlfriend died. Every relationship I’ve had ends in heartbreak. Every person I’ve loved has eventually left.” 

“James,” your whisper drew him closer, his hands coming to rest against your arms, hesitating before moving to hold your face, the creases around his eyes having softened. 

“I thought that maybe if I pretended I didn’t love you you wouldn’t leave and I wouldn’t end up hurting you.” 

You could feel your lip begin to quiver, “You already are.” 

Your voice came out meek and strained, like it took every ounce of your strength to tell him that. 

Wilson pulled you in closer, resting your forehead against his, whispering quiet apologies. 

“I never wanted this, not for you,” he shook his head. “I’m so sorry.” 

Your hands reached out to hold onto his scrubs, the partially dried blood leaving red stains on the palms of your hand. 

“No, don’t be sorry,” you murmured. “Don’t be. Just be honest. With me. With yourself.” 

His voice became stuck in his throat and faded into a whisper, “I’m afraid to say it. I-I don’t want to ruin this…ruin you.” 

“Then I’ll say it,” you placed your hands on his shoulders. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

Wilson nodded his head and you could feel his heartbeat from the pulse in his neck, every move was hesitant. Pulling you even closer, your hearts next to each other, your faces only a breath away. His lips so close to yours, and you did the only thing you could think of to quiet the voices in his head, you told him again. 

“I love you, James.” 

It was like a reflexive response to your words. His lips now moved in sync with yours in tentative movements, as if one wrong move could make everything disappear. 

“I love you,” he whispered first, his lips still ghosting yours before another kiss. “I love you,” his voice now clearer, a quiet murmur. Another kiss, more firm, pushing you back against the wall while your hands moved down, finding any excuse to bring him closer. “I love you,” again, this time fully aloud because you were still there. He had said it and you hadn’t vanished, you’d pulled him closer. “Bee, I love you.”

His lips moved away from yours but only so he could wrap his arms around you, one arm across your back, the other holding your head simply to bring you into what felt like an almost frantic embrace. You reciprocated the urgency, your face now buried in his shoulder while his nose was pressed in your hair, inhaling deeply, relieved.

Wilson could feel your legs shake a little underneath you, in part from the exhaustion of the long surgery, some of it probably due to everything that had just happened. From there it became easy for you to fall back to the floor. Wilson positioned himself with his back to the wall and encouraged you to sit between his legs, leaning back into him. 

His arms wrapped around you, this time his hands now holding yours which rested on your lap. His lips pressed small kisses along your temple and you sighed, easily sinking more into his embrace like you always had, but now knowing there was always something more between you. Maybe it was naïve of you to think things would be different, but at that moment you couldn’t care about the ending, not when things were just beginning.

It felt difficult to speak, you weren’t sure what words would cut it anymore after what you’d said, nothing could be more meaningful than that.

So you sat in silence, absorbing the moment, living in it, sucking every ounce of love you could get from each other sitting in silence. 

“Bee,” Wilson spoke up, but his voice was quiet after the prolonged silence. “You won’t leave right?”

“Not if you don’t,” you shook your head. “I’ve stuck with you for a while yet, James. Just…don’t push me away.” 

He raised a hand to tilt your head back towards him, encouraging you to turn around slightly and meet him in another kiss. 

Just as you pulled apart, the loudspeaker turned on again informing you that the child was found and the lockdown had been lifted. 

You didn’t want to move, but you knew you couldn’t stay in the OR forever. So while you still had the volition, you stood up and offered a hand to Wilson so he could follow after you. 

You pushed open the door and walked out of the OR together, heading towards the now unlocked sector doors to get to the locker rooms to change before leaving the hospital. 

As you walked side by side, you could feel Wilson’s hand brush up against yours before he reached out and properly held your hand in his own. You looked down at your interlaced fingers before looking up at him again, knowing tonight would be different. Tonight you wouldn’t be alone. 

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @kiddbegins @il0vebeingdelulu @illicit4ff4irs @lynnsthoughts @miarabanana @iwmflbb @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey @sarcasm-and-stiles @sun-flower-mad @x-uno @han11dh @qardasngan @alexxavicry @lemonxde @mushycore

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #james wilson fanfiction #house md #house md fanfiction #house md x reader #x reader #dr wilson #dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #fanfiction #robert sean leonard

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab 11

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali

Warning: Frustration, Celebration, and Coffee Inhalation

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note:

A huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

Please comment, like, share, and reblog! If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters or find chapter one here.

The apartment was silent, broken only by the occasional shouting, shooting, and sirens. For anyone living in Gotham City, especially the rougher parts, this was all white noise. A day of actual  silence was a blessing that no one dared to question. Today was not one of those nights. In fact, it was noisier than most, which usually meant trouble was closer than usual. None of that mattered to Y/N as she sat cross armed and cross-legged on the worn out sofa, staring down at her phone that lay on the coffee table before her.

Seconds had turned to minutes which quickly became an hour which was now nearing two as she sat there stone still. Since coming home from her shift, she had perched herself on the couch as if to judge the cellular device that was placed on the stand. There was now a new number on her phone. Nine new digits under the contact name: Your Hero and a message thread that held one text saying ‘hi’ from her phone to this person. 

The same person with the mesmerising blue eyes that looked like they held the secrets of life itself, tinged with sadness and pain. Tall, muscular but not overly bulky but certainly much bigger than her, with black hair that had a high contrast streak of white in the front. The same interrogative gentleman who saved her from the drink and Matias. The very person who had her drowning in 4k worth of debt to the hotel for room damage. Thrice he appeared out of nowhere and twice were to save her from serious trouble. The one and only silver tongued Wonder Boy who was into books and video games.

“Who just shows up to save someone on time like that? Is he really some sort of self-proclaimed hero?” She muttered to herself, unfolding her arms to rest her chin in one of her palms.  “What do I do now? Do I text him? Should I ask about the room? How do I even bring that up without him claiming I’m some liar trying to squeeze money out of him? It’s not like I knew he was a Wayne! I didn’t sit there and memorise all their faces, and just hoped to the high heavens one had a decent enough personality to save me. I didn’t even want to go to the reunion! Do I just wait for him to text me? He did say he was going to text me, but do I just believe that? When is that going to happen? What did I even say yes to?!” She threw her arms up in frustration and ruffled her hair. “What the hell am I supposed to do?!” She let out a heavy sigh of frustration, staring up at the dated popcorn ceiling as she slumped back into her seat, laying her head on the top of the cushion. Today is going to be a long day. She blinked a few times, fatigue getting the best of her. Forcing herself to stand up, she grabbed her phone and made her way to her bedroom. Sleep was the only answer after such a hectic night shift.

“Tonight, we celebrate, Magnus ol’ buddy!” Jason grinned, snapping the elastic band of the party hat under the stone chin. “Yours truly has managed to not only find her,” he walked away and paused for suspense, turning with ease to face his rock friend once more. “But also get her number and her name! Sure, I got it off her name tag, but I plan on getting it from her directly!” He grinned from ear to ear as he walked back, waving the lit up phone screen in its face as he leaned against Magnus. “Sorry I haven’t been around to update ya on things, I had to help with shit on the other side of the city for the last couple of weeks. At least it wasn’t boring. But that’s beside the point, I finally got something on her before she got on me! Man, you should’ve seen the look on her face! I left her speechless!” He puffed his chest with pride as he plopped down onto his usual seat by Magnus, opening up the rolled up paper bag.

He pulled out a large order of fries, setting it sideways in Magnus’ mouth for easy access before grabbing the burger beneath it, his drink set between them and his helmet just within reach. Batburgers were the perfect on-the-go late night celebratory food. He was not scheduled to be on patrol today, but no one told him what to do. He just merely agreed with decisions for the most part, today was just one of difference of opinion. Let the Batman rant and rave, Jason would not let anyone take away his victory.

“So, what was the last thing we talked about? Ah, right! Some mobsters were causing shit thinking I wasn't around to crack skulls. Fucking dumbasses,” he rolled his eyes and took a hearty bite of his burger. “The look of shock on their faces, you’d think they saw a ghost! I know I’ve died a few times, depending on what stories you follow, but I’m still flesh and blood. Of course, they tried to fix that, thinking they had a chance. They never learn, and that's why they always fucking lose. When I ran shit, I was smart about it. Throwing muscle mindlessly is a waste. You can't educate the brainless though. I had to make sure to do a proper job, and couldn't leave just anyone to send the message. Things should be quiet over there for a bit which gives me the chance to actually reach out to Y/N.”

“Y/N, huh? That’s a pretty name.” A familiar voice held an annoying lilt to it. Jason’s eyebrow twitched as he took a sip of his soda.

“Whaddya want, Dickwing?” He grumbled.

“What, can’t an older brother come check in on his AWOL younger brother?” Nightwing placed a hand over his heart and hung his head. “You wound me, little brother.” He frowned, noticing the party hat on the gargoyle. “And to have a party without inviting me? I am doubly hurt! Maggie has a hat and fries!”

“Magnus is important. He doesn’t say stupid shit like you are now.” Jason scoffed, taking one of the crispy golden potato sticks.

“Margrave can’t say anything. I still think you should see someone about this unhealthy relationship you have with this heap of concrete.” Nightwing knocked two knuckles against it before taking a seat beside Jason. “So, who is Y/N, and why are you texting her? Where did you meet? Should I be worried, and for whom between the two of you?”

“Shut up,” the younger former Robin grumbled. “You better not fucking do anything or I’ll kill you.” He warned Nightwing quickly raising his hands up in surrender. “She's the girl I was trying to find about the whole hotel fiasco.”

“The one where you broke the simple coffee machine and ruined the room, leaving her with a huge bill to clear?” He smirked as Jason scowled.

“Yes, that one. Keep it up, see what happens.” He grumbled.

“Alright, alright! So, you finally found her, hm? That's good, you can give her the money and move on finally. You won't have some rando holding that over you anymore. Did you get the money sent to her already?”

Jason knew that was what he needed to do and that was the whole purpose of trying to find her. Give her the money and move on. There was no use or reason to delay. The sooner he paid, the sooner she was free to move on as well. Being involved any more than necessary was a danger to her and a burden on him. And yet, the thought alone left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. 

Y/N was witty and funny, easy to approach and talk to even if it was just nonsense. He wanted to keep talking to her, and not just through a computer screen. He wanted to know more about her day, the crazy customers, and the shenanigans of her and Citlalli. He wanted to sit and drink coffee or tea or whatever she drank and discuss books, plan little gaming raids, or just talk about life. He knew nothing about her. 

I could just look it up now that I know her name and place of employment. I could find out everything about her and clear up the mystery that is her, feed the curiosity and be done with it…but I don't want to. Not only that, but I want to hear it from her, organically. Even if I did read all there is, I'd want to hear it from her. 

“Earth to Jason, are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I’m just thinking.”

“You, thinking? Oh man, that isn’t good. Should I be expecting a second duffle bag incident?”

“Duffle bag what? No, that was one time, you guys need to learn to let it go!” He rolled his eyes.

“It’s pretty hard to just let go of the fact that your younger brother was carrying eight heads stuffed in a gym bag.” Nightwing scoffed. “Excuse me for being a little concerned.”

“It was one time!” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m not some psycho serial killer or something. If you’re here to rain on my parade, you can fuck off! This is why I didn't invite you, Magnus knows how to read a balcony. It’s clearly a party.” He motioned to the shiny pointy hat on said gargoyle’s head. “Also, aren’t you on patrol? Quit slacking off and go.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll leave! I can tell when I’m not wanted!” Nightwing let out a heavy sigh as he stood up. “Unloved and thrown away like last week’s newspaper.” He sniffled loudly. “I see how it is!” He threw his head back with the back of his hand to his forehead.

“If you get it, then leave.” Jason grumbled, opening up the wrapper of his second burger. “Thanks, for the assist.” He mumbled before taking a bite. Nightwing had just barely heard the words, but smiled nonetheless.

“Anytime, Little Red,” he chuckled before vanishing into the night. 

Over the course of the next two weeks, Y/N picked up every and all shifts that she could possibly find to help clear the money owed. Citlalli was great in helping her find work, while away and on her return. The return of the boisterous and flamboyant Citlalli was like sunshine after weeks of doom and gloom rain, refreshing and much needed. Y/N had been keeping herself too busy to even think, and Citlalli’s return was a great distraction, but also a great sounding board on what to do. She had told her dear friend all about her encounter with her troublesome cousin and the return of her expensive hero. Citlalli was not thrilled to hear about her cousin’s antics, and had quickly informed their boss of what transpired. She also insisted that Y/N should wait for him to text, since that is what he said he would do. The task was simple enough, validating the decision she had been leaning towards as is. 

However, that was then. Two weeks and some days had gone by, and nothing. Utter radio silence from him. No sudden appearances, even though Matias did come by some times to try to get her attention. And her online gaming partner was also MIA. Arkham_Knight said it would be about a week, but there was no movement or notice from him either. It was driving her crazy to just sit and wait for both of them.

The next time I see him, I’m going smack him! How do you tell someone you’re going to message them and just don’t?! Especially after you made sure to get my number to send details, what details?! She wanted to scream, but she was on the clock. It was another graveyard shift and the café was dead. Everything had been cleaned spotless and anything that needed to be restocked was done. She even went through the inventory to make a list of what needed to be reordered soon. With nothing left, she took a seat on the stool and pulled out her book since there was nothing else to do.

As soon as she cracked it open, there was the sound of glass shattering. She reflexively ducked for cover as the window shards went flying everywhere. She could hear the sounds of a struggle at the crunch and scratch of the pieces, a muffled frantic voice followed by a calmer, more exasperated one.

“I told you we could do this the easy way or the hard way, you chose the hard way.” The young male voice flippantly spoke. “Now, tell me what I need to know. I can keep this up all night if I have to, I’ve got nowhere else to be.” 

And I just cleaned the whole place! Y/N scowled at her turn of luck, carefully closing her book and placing it aside. What am I supposed to do in this situation?! I can’t exactly greet them and ask what they would like to order, who knows what they’ll do to me. Wasn’t his place supposed to be ‘crime free’? So much for that promise, thanks for nothing Gotham politicians! She grumbled to herself, slowly lifting her head to just above the counter to see who was responsible for destroying the cafe. She was surprised to see it was one of the famous caped crusaders of Gotham City. Red Robin, here? With who? She tried to get a look of the captured person but her attention was caught by the sound of crunching glass and she ducked quickly for brief moment.

“Did we get it?”

Nightwing? Well damn, I know I said I wanted something to happen, but this was not what I had in mind. She slowly stood up from her hiding spot after shifting over to right so that the machines would help hide her for a little longer.

“Not yet, but looks like he’s just about ready.” Red Robin answered, looking over his shoulder at Nightwing, catching sight of Y/N���s hat in the process. “Looks like we have an audience.”

What do I do? What do I do? Y/N’s eyes darted from side to side trying to find a place to run, but she was boxed in and there was no way she would outrun one of them. With no options of escape, she slowly walked towards the register so she was more visible with both her hands up. “I’m unarmed, I’m just an employee here.” She forced herself to speak calmly and clearly.

“An employee here, where are we?” Nightwing quickly surveyed the location and realized they had come crashing through an actual business and not one of the under construction buildings. “So he ran here hoping to be seen by someone.” He muttered.

“See what? I don’t see anything, except for two potential customers debating if they want to order.”

“Smart girl,” Red Robin answered, turning to face her after tying up the guy on the floor. The two vigilantes walked up to the counter and looked up past Y/N to see what was available. While Red Robin realized where they were, Nightwing realized something else. She noticed and looked down to see it was at her name tag.

“Y/N, that’s a pretty name.” He grinned. “I think we will order something, Y/N. What do you say?”

“Red Eye with two shots of espresso and some steamed milk, large.” The order came out quick, a slight eagerness in the tone. Y/N could not help but stare at the younger of the two masked males.

“I’m guessing you like coffee, and strong at that.”

“It helps when working the night.” He stood a little straighter.

“Riiiight, I’m not judging. I work in a café.” She shrugged, dropping her arms since she needed to make the order. “And you, Mr. Nightwing?”

“Mead Raf for me, medium is fine.”

“To go, or did you plan on staying to chat? We’re a 24-hour café, though I suppose I need to have you leave, since I need to clean up all the glass.” She motioned to the floor.

“Ah yes, sorry about that, Y/N. We’ll have it to go so you can get to cleaning.” Nightwing chuckled, amused by how she was handling the situation. The two watched her as she carefully made the drinks, making sure no glass managed to find its way behind the counter or into the coffee. 

“One large Red Eye with two shots of espresso and steamed milk and one medium Mead Raf. Is that all?” The vigilantes looked between one another and nodded their heads. “Alright, here you go. Consider it a small thanks for doing your best to keep us safe. You sure you don’t want anything to eat? Or are you not allowed to eat on the job?”

“There are no rules about that, we just gotta keep our hands free as much as possible. Thank you, Y/N.” He smiled at her name. He noticed the corners of her lips tug downwards. “Is something wrong?"

“Hm? No, nothing.” I’m overthinking it. He’s probably saying my name to make sure I know that he knows my name now and if I say anything, it’ll be easy to find me. “I’m a snacker, so I guess not having something on hand seems a bit cruel.”

“It’s annoying, but we need to be able to react quickly.” Red Robin agreed, taking his cup and taking a rather big drink from it. She tried to stop him, but could only watch. He was not the first to drink burning hot coffee in front of her, but it was always strange to see. Nightwing was not as crazy, he waited for a bit before sipping his drink.

“Perfect,” he smiled in approval. “Thanks again, Y/N, and here, something for your troubles.” He winked, slipping something into the tip jar before grabbing the tied up man. “Until next time,” he flashed her a grin as Red Robin held the door open and the two walked out as if they had not just come crashing through one of the windows.

She looked down at the tip jar to see what looked to be a $100 bill and something else. Do they get paid to do this job, or is this from a day job? Where the hell did he even keep this money? I don’t see any room for pockets in his suit, but then again, it’s all black. Red Robin did have a belt, maybe he holds the change? Her focus then shifted her attention to the glass littering the floor and sighed, there was no way she was going to be able to run the rest of the shift like this. Locking the doors, she grabbed the cleaning supplies and called her boss, letting him know of the situation at hand. “Well, at least it wasn’t dull.” She muttered as she got to cleaning until her boss got there to have the window temporarily patched up.

#red hood #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #y/n #red hood fanfic #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction #red hood x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x you #your name #y/n reader #red hood x y/n #reader insert #jason todd x female reader #red hood x female reader #batman #batman fic #batman fanfic #batman fanfiction #nightwing #red robin #dc fanfic

[causticsunshine]

.

#thinking about finishing my 1d fics again and while with one super old wip i figured out how to write it sans heavy ot5 friendship dynamic #the two sequel fics for ‘swear i’ve known you since forever’ in ATSCO series…. oooh i fear i am Fucked #it’s not that i have beef with ot5 fic really it just feels weird for me personally to be writing it so #heavy handedly this many years on? and controversial take mayhaps but there are still plenty super involved ot5 fans out there putting out #mmm weird vibes? delusional even? not all of them ofc #but enough that i’ve seen especially on twitter and iii don’t want the association just bc i kept the dynamic in a fic i wrote lmao #(also i have some thoughts and opinions on things and people i did not have in the past too so! that doesn’t help) #i think for ATSCO i’m just gonna have to commit because i am Not rethinking a whole new plot for that series 4 years down the line #especially after i rewrote the whole plot like 5 times as well as the first fic in the series several more times as well….. #i’m not doing it again!! i’m not!! so if i DO finish either one of these fics specifically. please know if ot5 element stays in #moreso in ATSCO than the other one which has remained a secret 4 years on #know what i stand for and who i am… i know this matters to few but me but i’m putting it out there nonetheless #it’s still gonna be a hot minute before any fics get finished bc where my interests are rn and my focusing on art but! i stand by my word #and my fics are still intended to be completed! #(also sidenote i am. no longer replying to any update inquiries on here or ao3! i’ve already said why in the past that they #stress me out rather than encourage me so i’m gonna leave it at that! i honestly might even start to delete them from my inbox / comments #just because they get to me that bad like i literally avoid ao3 because of it so. yeah! pls don’t send me update inquiries <3) #alex talks

[sgrplumditz]

You had his baby and he didn't know.

She sat with the 3-month-old baby girl. Every time she looked at her she saw His eyes, the eyes of the father of her child that had no idea she existed. A perfect blend of the two, but like her father the most recognizable feature was her eyes. Carrying her mother's soft and feminine features, while having her father's gaze.

She was standing in the kitchen of her two-bedroom apartment preparing to pump her full, plump breasts as her daughter slept soundly in a playpen nearby. Thinking of her daughter had become second nature to her, which meant that her thoughts only revolved around her daughter from the moment she found out she was pregnant. Although she was struggling as a single mother, she did not hold any resentment toward Simon. After all, he had no idea their daughter existed.

Simon was forced to leave for his work responsibilities. He knew he would be gone for a long time, it was a no-brainer that they would go their own separate paths. When her thoughts were not consumed by her daughter they were consumed by Him, she craved the closure, or support, or comfort that she knew he could bring her.

Interrupted. Her thoughts were interrupted by a light knock on the door. Her protective nature took over as she walked to the front door while holding a bottle in her right hand. Her heart sank the moment she looked through the peephole. "What is He doing here?" she thought before slowly swinging the door open.

His gaze immediately dropped to the pink bottle in her hand, "Why didn't you tell me?" he spoke, his voice was soft, yet it still held a slight tone of hostility. His accent was prominent, something she noticed would happen whenever he was emotional. His eyes looked drained, tired, and confused, but physically he looked as good as ever. His tall stature and wide frame cast a shadow over her significantly smaller build.

"Tell you what?" she said as her face flushed red and her heart pounded in her ears. Her ears also burning.

Simon walked into her apartment closing the door behind him, "You have never been a good liar". There it was, the exact gaze she saw in her daughter staring back at her in His body. That same gaze turned to his sleeping daughter in the pink playpen that was littered with stuffed animals and pink accents.

She couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling. Anger, frustration, joy, sadness -- it was evident that he was on a roller coaster.

"Why didn't you tell me?", he sighed running his hand through his thick blonde hair. She was stunned, but she didn't know if it was because he actually showed up, or if she was stunned because this was their first time standing in a room together as a family. "Who told you?" her voice came out soft, timid almost.

"Price, but that is beside the matter" he paused to take in the sight of his daughter. "Why didn't you contact me? I gave you my cell for emergencies... th-this is an appropriate reason to contact me." he now sounded frustrated with her. She was gripping the bottle in her hand still, unable to relax and let it go. Was he mad?

He wasn't. He approached her and gently took the bottle out of her hand -- he knew her better than anyone meaning that he knew that she reacted poorly to confrontation. "You're okay, Love" he spoke gently as he held her small hands in his, "Talk to me, please." he pleaded as he guided them to the nearby couch, making her take a seat. There was new sense of gentleness when he spoke. The shift came naturally to him as now he was fixated on protecting the mother of his child in all aspects. His thumbs massaged her wrists gently while he waited for her to find her words. Simon has always been patient, a quality she loved about him.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only audible noise coming from the cooing sounds of their daughter. "Whenever you're ready, Love. I'm here to stay," he said with his warm hands still on her.

#ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley

[kitten4sannie]

backstage bukakke with ateez ♡

a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3

Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.

“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.

“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.

San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”

You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”

He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”

You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.

Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”

Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.

San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”

His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”

The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.

“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.

-

“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”

You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.

“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”

You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”

“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”

You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.

“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.

“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”

“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”

Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”

San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”

“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”

San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.

“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.

San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”

All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.

San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve. 

“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place. 

“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.” 

“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.” 

“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?” 

Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.” 

“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”

“You can watch our slut suck my cock.” 

Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over. 

It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side. 

“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks. 

Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.

San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”

Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.

“Please!”

Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum. 

Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.

“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear. 

“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip. 

“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.

You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”

The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”

San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez mingi #ateez x reader #san smut #san x reader #yunho x reader #wooyoung x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung smut #yunho smut #mingi smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #kpop smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut

[mssainz]

PART 1 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: None

“Wow, Mama this place is beautiful!” 

“I’m glad you liked it here, my love,” 

“Mama, can I explore around?,”

“Sure, I’ll come with you,”

You and Cael arrived in Madrid yesterday. Coming back to the place you wanted to forget is nerve wracking for you. This place brings back plenty of memories of you and Carlos together, about five years ago. But seeing how enthusiastic your four-year-old child is, makes you forget why you came back here in the first place.

Seeing how he enjoys the place calms your heart. Bringing him into beautiful places in Madrid makes you happy but exhausted at the same time. You are alone and you have to look after Cael who possesses the energy of a car battery and wants to just run and explore everywhere.

“Mama, can I have an ice cream?”

“Sure, what flavor do you want?”

“I want the chocolate one, Mama”

“Okay, stay here for a moment,”

You went to the ice cream stand nearby to buy Cael an ice cream. You left him at the small bench for him to rest for a moment from running and playing around.

The lane at the ice cream stall was not that long. You are looking at Cael from time to time while waiting for your turn. Gladly, after a few minutes, you finally got Cael’s ice cream, but the one who was supposed to eat it was gone.

“Cael?”

“CAEL!”

You started to panic and find yourself roaming around the plaza to find your son. You searched for him in every corner of the place but he is nowhere to be found.

He can't be that far. Cael where are you?

While you were waiting for your turn, Cael found a ball and followed it. He didn’t notice that while trying to catch the ball, he went far away from you.

Before he knows it, he didn’t know where he was. He tried to calmly find his way back to the bench where you initially left him. He started to walk as far as his tiny legs have taken. His eyes scanned all the people he runs into the plaza.

After few minutes, he started to get worried as no matter steps he take, he can’t seem to find you. He is nearly sobbing as the fact that he lost you is kicking in. Your son is courageous and smart enough to walked towards the first guy he saw for help.

Cael reached for the hem of his shirt. The man is wearing sunglasses, a white button-up shirt, an ivory short, and a white shoes. He removed his sunglasses and bent down to face Cael.

“Hey, buddy,” Carlos greeted Cael with a smile.

“Papa?” Cael confusely said and suddenly hugged him. Carlos was also confused why he called him Papa. But the hug was so warm and felt good, so he hugged Cael back.

“I must have looked like your Papa, am I? Where are your parents?” Carlos asked Cael.

“Sorry, you really looked like Papa. I'm with my Mama but I got lost. I am trying to find her.” Cael said, in verge of crying.

“It's okay buddy, don’t cry. I’ll help you find your Mama,” Carlos caressed Cael’s cheeks.

“May I ask what’s your name and how old are you, buddy?” 

“I’m Sebastian Cael and I’m four years old. Almost five,” Cael said trying to show his four fingers to the man in front of him. Carlos smiled looking at the tiny human being trying to fold his finger.

“Hmm Sebastian Cael, What do you want me to call you?,”

“My friends call me Bash, but my Mama calls me Cael. I prefer if you’ll call me Cael,” Cael said with his naturally puppy brown eyes, melting Carlos.

“I’ll just call you Cael, then. So, can you remember when and where did you last see your Mama?” Carlos patiently wait for his response.

“She told me to rest at the bench as she buys me ice cream. But I got distracted by a ball and followed it,” Cael explained to Carlos how he got lost. Carlos can notice how Cael is trying so hard to hold his tears.

“Cael, buddy. I think you really went too far following the ball because the ice cream stall is at the opposite side of where we are right now. But don’t worry bud we’ll find your Mama, okay?,” Carlos gives Cael a reassuring smile. It is what the boy needs. Cael is in a foreign land and he cannot find his mom. Being snarky is the last thing Carlos wants to be.

Carlos held Cael's hands and walked to the ice cream stall. He tries to rub Cael’s tiny hand from time to time to assure and calm him.

Halfway back to the ice cream stall, Cael found Y/N, who was also looking for him.

“MAMA!” Cael yelled, for you to see him. He immediately let go of Carlos' hands and ran to you. You bent down when you saw Cael and opened your arms for him. 

“God, Cael where have you been, my love? I was worried about you. Are you okay?” You hugged Cael tightly.

“I am okay, Mama. Sorry, I got distracted by a ball and followed it,” Cael said feeling sorry for worrying you.

“It’s okay, love. I’m relieved that you're fine. Mama’s here now,” You replied and kissed Cael’s cheeks.

“A gentleman who looks like Papa helped me find you Mama. He is so kind,” Cael said.

“Hmm?” It took few seconds for you to come back to your senses.

Right, how did Cael find his way back?

“There he is Mama,” Cael said and pointed to Carlos who has been staring at you two for a while now.

Cold sweats gush out of your body. The man you loved, the father of your child, the man you have been avoiding to see for the past five years is standing in flesh in front of you looking devilishly handsome. You can tell how confused he is right now and how you just want to run away with Cael any minute now.

Cael he does not look like your Papa. He is your Papa.

next part

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one x you #afterfiveyears #cs55 #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz jr

[transmascrage]

Video by ErinInTheMorning on TikTok

[Transcript (there's captions on screen but in case you can't turn on audio):

Erin: "File this one away for the transgender history books, whenever they write about our history; today Lindsey Spero, a trans man, stood in front of the Florida Board of Medicine, which was about to vote to medically ban all gender affirming care for trans youth.

He stood there to deliver his testimony, he delivered a little bit of it, but then he took the remainder of his testimony time to stand there and inject his hormone therapy in front of all of them in stunned silence, and then he turned around and raised his fist. Watch this."

Lindsey: "My name is Lindsey Spero, I'm 25 years old, I'm a resident of St. Petersburg, Florida. I'm also transgender.

I am someone who was subjected to treatments that have been questionable, that were mentioned by people like that woman who came up and spoke, I can tell you for a fact that her child is going to grow up hating her.

I'm sure you've heard many stories that sound like mine already, over the last few months my trans siblings and family members have stood before you, put their hearts on full display and vulnerable pleaded with you to listen to our stories and perspectives.

The American Academy of Pediatrics has condemned your actions and our federal government has spoken out against the actions you seek to take regarding the necessary health care for trans youth.

I could stand here and tell you about the times I attempted to end my life because I didn't have access to gender affirming care but I know, I know you don't care. I see you sneering at us while we come here and talk to you.

Instead I'm going to take the rest of my time to demonstrate the sacred and weekly ritual of my shot in front of you, in this body.

My medication is life saving, I will use HRT for the rest of my life, your denial of my need for this medication, doesn't make my existence as a trans person any less real.

I will be giving myself my subcutaneous shot in my stomach. If you have a needle phobia, please look away."

Lindsey injects his T-shot in silence, helped by another person who passes him a needle and the testosterone in its vial.

After finishing, he raises his fist and turns around to the audience.

Lindsey: "Tomorrow and forever."

The crowd cheers and a few people get up to clap.

Erin: "That, that is what I'm talking about! Good job Lindsey! This is the kind of resistance that matters!"

End transcript.]

(As a sidenote, it seems that Lindsey identifies as nonbinary, not necessarily (or exclusively, anyways) as a trans man. Some articles identify him as transmasc but all of his socials state nonbinary.)

#lgbtq #queer community #trans ftm #transmasc #transphobia #trans youth

[bubblebbg]

can i ask for a jealous mizu from blue eye samurai feeling a little overprotective and jealous when taigen spars with reader bc they are a swordmaster as well? Mizu doesn’t like it how taigen always gets you to laugh or how he injures you when sparring

why yes, anon. you may. Only warning is violence, but like, not really? Not proofread. Also, Mizu's pronouns change per perspective. I may as well shamelessly plug my other Mizu fic right here ;))

❝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

Mizu has no one to blame but herself when she's forced to bite back her envy and watch you with Taigen. If you two spar one more time, she might throw up in her mouth. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.

The clinking of metal on metal, the air sliced through with a swish; all sounds Mizu has become accustomed to. Nonetheless, her eyebrow twitches in irritation, eyes following the movements in front of her. She thinks to herself that she never wanted to be this accustomed to those sounds, especially not when accompanied with Taigen's stupid remarks.

She watches you double back after having knocked him down yet again in the midst of your spars. She hates the way the both of you giggle.

"Please," Mizu rolls her eyes, "It can't be that funny the eighth time."

Taigen collects his sword and stands, sheathing it before dusting himself off. "Like you could do any better. Sure, you're good, but you're no master." He looks to you as he says this, smiling as if the praise was at all inconspicuous. She scoffs a bit when you smile back, crossing her arms and looking to the side.

The irony of her jealousy is that it's of her own making. You've asked Mizu to train with you before, and every time it's been a no. Because she cares about you, she at least does you the decency of making up excuses. "I'm tired, maybe tomorrow" or "I'm busy" - poor excuses, she knows, but she's trying here - and you've learned to stop asking. The truth is, she doesn't trust herself to not give away what she tries to keep hidden. Her heart already beats hard enough around you. The consequence? Watching you spar with a man who's clearly inferior to you, all while he makes pathetic advances and jokes. She's not sure if she hates him or herself more right now.

"But that's right," Taigen remarks, a snarky look on his face, "You're too scared, aren't you?"

The look in your eyes is cautionary as you nudge him. "Stop it," you mutter. And Mizu knows she shouldn't be so childish as to take the bait, but this isn't about you; it's a direct challenge from Taigen on her (sort of) manlihood.

"I am not scared."

"Then prove it. Duel. Right now."

"That's enough, Taigen," you reply, always the mediator, "If Mizu doesn't want to spar, then he -"

"I'll do it," she stands, approaching you both and stopping in front of Taigen with a searing look, "And you'll see that you're not even half the swordsman I am."

𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …𓆪

Inhale. Exhale. You stand face to face, a few meters apart, each a hand on their sword. The cold bites, snow falling between the two of you. When you look into her eyes, you see blazing fire, a spirit like tempered steel. When she looks into yours, there's something more unnerving; calm, like the surface of water undisturbed. Her heart pounds.

Inhale, she wills herself. Exhale. She draws and lunges, and you're quick to block it. Another swing, and another, and another, all quick and strong. Sharp eyes, she thinks. Each attack of hers is stopped as soon as it begins. Your eyes, watching as if not only to prevent, but to predict.

Inhale. She steps back, assessing. You're like a fortress - impenetrable defense. Your lips curl in the slightest smile and there goes her damn heart's pounding again.

Exhale. She drops to a crouch and swipes snow at you in an attempt to blind you, to throw off your analysis. She lunges through the spray with a decisive blow, a duel-ending strike.

Nothing. Her blade hits nothing.

Instead there's a blade at her throat, with you behind her. "How the hell did you -"

She reddens at the feeling of your warm chuckle at her ear. "You're breathing gives you away," you whisper, "Every time, without fail." You sheath your blade and Mizu whips around to look at you. She can't help but share the smile you give her. "Dirty bastard," she replies, and your laughter fills the air, the only sound she'll never tire of.

"Hah! I knew it, you're no match either, Mizu!"

Mizu's about to reply when you beat her to it.

"Whatever Taigen, he lasted longer than you ever will."

And it's Mizu's turn to laugh.

#mizu #blue eye samurai mizu #blue eye samurai #akemi #taigen #taigen x reader #akemi x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai netflix #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai

[luveline]

could you pleaseee do more hotch x bombshell reader

cw suggestive —you and Hotch have a shared secret you’re hiding from the rest of the team. fem, 1k

“He’s too old for you, you know.” 

You give Elle a charmed smile. “He is not.” 

“Is too.” 

“How old do you think I am, Greenaway?” you tease. “I know I look good for my age, but I’m fully developed. He is not too old for me.” 

“Who?” Spencer asks, placing down his dinner tray with a smile. 

“Gideon,” you say. “What do you think, babe, do I have a chance with our great leader?” 

“No,” Spencer says, giggling as he spears a dehydrated looking green bean with his fork. He’s getting good at recognising jokes for what they are. 

As the younger (but, despite Elle’s insistence, not young) crowd, you have complimentary avoiding of work to do, free with your employment. You spend your lunch hour trying to stretch it into two, driving Gideon insane, and prompting Hotch to come and find you. He hasn’t appeared yet, but when you check your watch you’ve got about ten minutes left until you need to get back. 

“The line was so long,” Spencer says. “They could reduce the foot traffic in here by half if they had two people working the register.” 

“Maybe if we had our own offices we could eat our lunch alone from a brown paper bag like everybody else does, and we wouldn’t need to line up,” Elle says wryly. 

“You don’t like lining up like middle schoolers?” you ask in feigned shock. 

“I don’t,” Spencer says earnestly. 

“She’s being sarcastic,” Elle says. “You couldn’t tell?” She looks over your shoulder suddenly, but there’s a velvet voice in your ear before you can turn around.

“Can I borrow you?” 

You smile because he can’t see it. “That depends, Agent Hotchner, will I get to finish my lunch?” 

You don’t have a tray in front of you. It clearly doesn’t matter to Hotch. “I’ll take care of it.” 

You’d let him drag you around by the collar, but that’s none of his business. You turn to meet his eyes over your shoulder, disappointed that he’s already a few steps back waiting for you to stand up. 

What Elle doesn’t get, what nobody seems to see but you, is that Hotch had no need to lean in and talk so close to your ear. He could have sent you an email, paged you, and he’s here in the cafeteria waiting for you to follow him out. 

You send both Elle and Spencer a suggestive look and climb off of the bench. Hotch senses when you’re near rather than looking, starting out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the elevator bank. He does a sharp turn you aren’t expecting to the photocopying rooms, where you refuse to go, lest you get killed by a falling stack of printer paper. One minute you’re walking together and the next he’s taken your hand and pulling you into an alcove, suddenly sliding his hand behind your back. 

“Aaron–”

He dips his face down and kisses you. It’s surprising and not, one slight nipping kiss before he looks you in the eyes. He’s asking if you’re alright to be kissed, and if it’s him, he can shove you up against a wall —you lift your head and he pulls you right back up to be kissed again. His hands slide over the tight fabric of your blazer and hold you chest to chest, his nose crushing yours, his lips unwavering. Pinpricks of heat ricochet from your mouth to your neck, a shudder he feels that has him laughing hot against your lips.

“That’s not very gentlemanly,” you say, weaving your fingers into the soft crop of hair behind his ears. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. He lifts his hand, cleaning the smudge of your lipstick with his pinky finger, before stroking your cheek with his knuckle.  “What sort of note was that, this afternoon? Why do you think that’s alright to leave at my desk?” 

“How’d you know it was me?” you ask, dropping your hands from his hair to poke at his waist. 

“I hoped it was you,” he admits. He looks like he might say something else, but he steals a rough kiss instead, and then another. 

“Okay,” you say, pleased to be kissed like this by him, “it was me. And you deserved it.” 

“Did I?” He takes your face into two hands. “Did I?” 

You stutter momentarily at his repeated question. “You– yeah, Hotchner, you did. It was supposed to be nice, like a promise.” 

“Are you promising?” he asks, giving your cheek a sweet, gentle stroke with his thumb. 

You kiss his nice jaw, ruffle the hair that curls over his forehead playfully, and laugh as he catches your hand. He doesn’t grab. Hotch isn’t ever aggressive with you (though he can get a little excited). 

“Decide what you want for dinner tonight, and we’ll go after work,” he says, returning your hand gently to your side. 

“Another kiss?” you ask. 

Hotch kisses you sweetly. “Come on, honey, lunch is over.” 

“Just one more?” you ask. 

He falls for it every time. You must harvest half a dozen extra kisses, incensed because it’s him, because nobody thought for a minute he’d bend to your whims. 

Hotch doesn’t bend. He just wants you like you want him. 

“One more,” he says as you pull away. “Just one.” 

It tickles your lips. You curl your arms behind his neck and try to make it one that’ll linger, your fingers scratching lightly at his scalp as he presses your back to the cold wall. You yelp a laugh and he covers your back with big hands, mumbling a sorry that gets completely lost. 

You don’t know how he’s going to explain this to Gideon. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[earthtooz]

fluff, apologising and making up after a 'fight' kind of drabble bc i miss suna <3

suna rintarou shows up to your university on the third day of the silent treatment.

the sight is a surprise, to say the least. your pro-volleyball player boyfriend standing outside your faculty’s building with his hands in his pockets, blending in with baggy jeans, a hoodie, and a cap. he looks the part of a university student, but you could never be fooled, not when he's 6'3 with an equally admirable stature from exercising.

amongst the crowd of outflowing students, the dark-haired spots you, olive eyes widening upon seeing you. he pushes himself onto two feet before walking over to where you stay rooted, dodging the students who just came out of the same lecture.

“hi,” suna greets, stopping just a few feet away from you. the sight of his lopsided smile is enough to get your heart racing again. you've missed him so much.

regardless, you cross your arms to keep up an angry front, not wanting to give in to his charms just yet no matter how good he may he at using them. 

“what are you doing here?” you ask bluntly, betraying the butterflies in your stomach.

his expression doesn’t falter at your iciness. “not happy to see me?”

you are happy to see him, very much so, especially when he has taken the initiative of literally showing up at your campus and waiting for your classes to be over to see you. he must be tired from practice as well and you know too well that mondays were never kind to him. 

so the fact that suna came all this way for you makes you feel a little special. 

he’s even wearing some of that cologne that you really like and unless it’s for special occasions, you know that your boyfriend is never bothered enough to wear any fragrance. he is so sly that you could kiss him.

“not particularly, suna.” you say in response, lying through your teeth.

suna clutches his chest like he’s been shot, making a gasp of offence at your statement. “babe, after i came all the way to campus? i thought i’d never want to come back here but i made some exceptions for the love of my life and this is what i get in return?” 

“suck it up, i guess.”

“-and who on earth is suna? never heard of him. can’t believe you’ve already forgotten my name after three days, i’m losing sight of reality, babe hold me, i might faint.”

“whatever,” you chuckle a little at his antics, eyes softening with a certain fondness that suna doesn’t miss. his lips twitch upwards at the sight of it.

this is his chance to win you back. he throws his line in in hopes of catching you hook and sinker. 

“let’s go to dinner tonight,” he offers, recovering from his previously downed position, voice contrastingly soft and gentle to smoothen his proposal. 

“what, so you can stand me up again?” you quip, instantly slicing the atmosphere to turn tense as the line snaps in half.

suna’s grin falls, morphing into a guilty frown. “c’mon pretty, that’s mean. you know how sorry i am, i didn’t mean to forget about our plans.”

you huff, letting your arms fall back to your sides. “i know, i know, but you standing me up just stung. it was frustrating because i made time for us that i could have used to study with instead,” you confess. “you know how stressed i’ve been with finals.”

the athlete stuffs his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “but i’m trying to make up for it.” 

“i know and i appreciate it, but now’s not a good time. i’m sorry but i can’t go to dinner tonight or any time soon, i have a bunch of practice tests to do that i can’t keep putting off.”

“then can i come over?” asks suna, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

“and watch me study? do you really want that?”

“i just want to be with you, i can order us takeout or something- on me.”

“guess i’m just irresistible, huh?”

“duh, do you know how much i suffered during the weekend? missed you so much, practically died from boredom.”

“oh so i’m just another person for you to bother? is that how it is?” you ask, unable to contain your smile. 

the dark-haired scoffs. “c’mon babes, you know you’re better than that. you’re the only person i can bother.”

“oh fuck off,” you whack his shoulder teasingly. “also for your information, you’re not coming between me and my education.”

“ambitious people are a turn-on,” he mutters with a shrug before pulling you in to kiss your cheek.

“ew get off me, freak,” you joke whilst shoving him, not rough enough to actually create distance but suna still stands his ground from the force. his hand goes to hold your other cheek as he smothers you with over-exaggerated affection. 

you laugh in his hold, holding on to his wrists for balance. “suna!” you yelp when he pushes too much weight onto you, causing the two of you to stumble sideways. “actually get off me.”

“can’t. won’t. don’t want to. this is what you get for not responding to me all weekend- what does  a man need to do to get a text back from the love of his life?” 

“easy. be a man.” you step out of his grasp with a satisfied smirk, beginning to walk away from your boyfriend who stares at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. inevitably, suna runs up to you.

and as he encases you with his arms in the middle of the empty gardens of your university faculty, you know that the two of you will be okay. even if suna is the bane of your existence, there is no one else for you like him. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#still on break lol #been writing a lot of silent treatment fics... apologies #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro x reader #rintarou suna x reader #hq x reader #suna rintarou fluff #suna fluff #suna rintarou x reader fic #suna rintarou x reader imagine

[harrysfolklore]

hi bestie,, idk if u take requests buttt have u seen kieran culkin speech after he won his emmy & then him asking his wife for another baby on stage 😁🤭🤭 idk i thought that would a cute h blurb

that kieran speech was SO CUTE i just had to take this request !!! happy one year of grammy winner Harry for those who celebrate! i hope you like this as much as I do

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The night had been one for the books.

Harry became a Grammy winner for the second time within the first 30 minutes of the ceremony, getting the award for Best Pop Vocal Album, and your heart bursted with joy and pride and you watched him collect it.

He also delivered an amazing performance even though he had a stage malfunction that was out of his control, and after a few minutes of pep talk backstage, you convinced him that he should be proud of what he did no matter what.

Nights like tonight made you look back at your journey with Harry, from getting frustrated each year when the Grammys refused to give One Direction a nomination, to consoling him when his debut single Sign of the Times got overlooked and celebrating when they finally ave him his long overdue nomination for Fine Line. And now, being one of the most nominated artists of the night and a winner already.

Harry was not an artist that let awards or numbers define his career at all, but you knew that deep down he appreciated getting a nod and recognition for the hard work he puts into his music.

"What's on your mind, honey?" Harry asked and he noticed that you had been quiet for a few minutes, the show was on a commercial break so you could talk freely.

"Just thinking about how am I getting a picture with Beyoncé before the night ends," you joked, making him laugh along, "I'm also thinking about the bub, do you think she's okay?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at the mention of your daughter. Little baby Styles had been welcomed into the world a year and a half ago, looking like an exact carbon copy of Harry with curls, dimples and charming green eyes.

It's safe to say that she became Harry's entire world from the moment he saw her for the first time.

"I bet she's fast asleep by now after snuggling with mum for hours," you smiled at the thought, "You know she's obsessed with mum."

"She just loves her nana," you almost cooed, "And her Grammy winner daddy, even tho she doesn't have any idea what that means."

"You know," Harry began, and by the look on his face you knew he was up to no good, "She could become obsessed with her bay brother or sister too, if we decided to give her one."

The smirk on Harry's face after his statement was almost devilish, making you look him with wide eyes and a grin on your own.

"Are you asking me for another baby in the middle of the Grammys?" Harry shrugged, the smirk not leaving his face, "You're a menace. But, maybe if you win, I'll think about it."

Before Harry could reply, the lights dimmed signaling that commercial break was over and it was time for more awards, more specifically, the most important award of the night: Album of the Year.

Trevor Noah, the host, talked about the importance and meaning of the award, the fans the production had invited to support the nominees stood beside him in a line.

You could barely focus on what was being said because your eyes were fixed on Harry's hand gripping yours tightly, and you felt like throwing up from nerves if you looked at the stage.

And the Grammy goes to…” Trevor spoke into the mic, making a dramatic pause that felt way too long and made you finally look up no the stage, noticing that he was standing in front of Reina, Harry's fan.

And that was the moment you knew, the Album of the Year was Harry's House.

“It’s you!” both you ans Jeff whisper-yelled in unison, looking at each other with shocked faces and making Harry give you a confused look.

“What do you-” and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.

Harry immediately covered his face in disbelief, shaking his head and taking in in the moment. You couldn't help but stand up and jump in your place, adrenaline and excitement, but mostly pride, running through your veins.

"My love, you won! Harry's House won!" you said into his ear when he finally wrapped his arms around you, pecking the side of yiur head repeatedly before kissing your lips quickly.

"I love you," was all he said before getting rushed into the stage along with his collaborators and friends.

"Shit!" was the first thing that came out of his mouth once he had his Grammy in hand, making everyone laugh, “I mean,shit! I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone,” he took a breath,"I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”

You stood with your hands clutched to your chest, your eyes filled with happy tears and nothing but love and admiration for him.

"I'd like to thank my mom and my sister for being my biggest supporters and giving me a great childhood, I would be nowhere without you," he paused to look directly at you from the stage, his eyes immediately watering again, "And of course my beautiful wife, YN. Thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me and giving me an amazing daughter who is the reason I do what I do everyday,"

You were unaware of the camera focusing on your and catching the moment you mouthed an 'I love you' to him from your place.

"I love you both so much, you mean the world to me. And YN," he paused, the devilish look from earlier making his way to his face again, along with a teasing raised eyebrow that told you that he was about to do something major, "I want another one."

The entire arena erupted into laughs and cheers, Jeff clapped and whistled from beside you and you couldn't help but cover your face in shock and embarrassment, astonished by Harry's anctics.

"You said, maybe if I won, and I did!" the crowd laughed even more, "I love you, so much. Thank you for this, I'll never forget it."

Harry got off the stage and you met him backstage to congratulate him properly, after a final performance the night came to an end and everyone headed outside the arena to celebrate.

"Do you feel like partying tonight? The label is throwing a celebration but if you feel tired we can skip it," Harry said as you both sat on the back of his Range Rover.

"Honestly, I just want to go home, kiss our baby goodnight and celebrate with my Grammy winner husband in private," you smiled at him teasingly, "Maybe get started on that second baby making."

The smile that appeared on Harry's face after hearing your words was bigger than the one from winning a Grammy.

"Home it is, then."

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles fake social media #harry styles story #harrysfolklore #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles grammy #1k

[chrisevansonly]

Little Soccer Baby

charles leclerc x female reader

synopsis: charles is playing in a charity soccer match, and no one is a bigger fan than his son Theo

warnings: none very fluffy!!

a/n: i was honestly influenced by the videos of charles holding that sweet little baby today when he was playing soccer😭😭

Theo squirmed in your arms as you made your way back down the steps towards the soccer field, Charles had been invited to play in another charity match in Monaco, so the three of you went together. Theo was a daddy’s boy through and through, he wanted to be wherever his father was so it was not surprising he barely sat still in your arms the entire game.

“Theo, we’re going to see papa now okay?”

The 7 months old flailed his legs excitedly as you got closer to the railing, Charles spotting you both and waving, eliciting the loudest and happiest squeals from his mini me.

“You played great my love!”

“Thank you chérie, I had my two cheerleaders with me today!”

Theo let out a whine and you cooed

“Oh i know, you want papa, here…”

The Monégasque let out a laugh as you rolled your eyes teasingly, knowing just how much his little boy adored him. His arms extended to take the baby from you, as soon as Theo was in Charles’s arms he smiled leaned onto his shoulder.

“Aww Theo, you’re making maman all jealous”

“I am not jealous!”

“Okay okay…”

Shaking your head at him, you took the time to pull your phone out, taking a few pictures of the father and son, a smile on her face when Charles scattered kisses across his face, giggles and squeals leaving his lips. You were the next to climb over the barrier between the field and the stands, Charles making sure to help you, as soon as your feet hit the turf you kissed his cheek and Theo’s who smiled happily at you.

“My silly boys, what am I going to do with you both?”

These were the times you loved the most, spending time as a family no matter what event you were at, and with the race season soon approaching, you cherished ever second you had as a family, especially when Charles would be away as often as he usually was.

The only thing you did know, is he should probably stick to formula one and not soccer…

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #rueschats💗 #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc drabble #dad charles leclerc #dad!charles leclerc #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 drabble #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (10) - A New Way

Chapter summary: Astarion always find a way back to you even in the midst of all the chaos.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Sexual frustration. Jealous Astarion. Protective Astarion. Fingering. Masturbation. Cumplay. Innuendo. Body worship.

Word count: 7.3k

Author's note: Tumblr isn't allowing me to reply to comments ever since I changed my @... already contacted support. I am not ignoring you guys *deep sigh*

Ao3

Series Masterlist

Rivington had its fair share of taverns and inns sprawled across its busy and lively streets. It was surely a welcome change from the grim and daunting sense of dread that loomed over you when travelling across the shadowlands. 

As such, the group had split to indulge in some brief moments of well deserved and welcome repose before finally reaching Baldur’s Gate.

Astarion sat across from you, subtlety eyeing his surroundings as you happily sipped your apple juice. 

The sun had yet to reach its peak but the tavern was already crawling with drunkards and unpleasant crowds. 

“We shouldn’t linger.” Astarion mused with arms crossed.

You nodded. “I’m nearly done.”

As much as you wished to forget about the troubling matters that haunted you, it was evident that your presence was earning some unwanted curious stares from a few onlookers. 

He suddenly reached for the pouch at his hip, withdrawing a piece of fabric before extending his hand to you.

“Here.”

You took it in your hand, briefly admiring its silky texture of the handkerchief as shades of teal and green swirled together in mesmerising patterns.

Then your fingers found golden letters sewn along one corner. 

Your name.

Your heart was clenched tight as you traced each letter in absolute awe.

“Astarion, this is…”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, think nothing of it, darling. You’re often covered in blood and sweat and Gods know what other fluids,” he said with a curt smile. “I figured you might as well look stylish whilst wiping that pretty face of yours.”

There he was.

So easily crawling under your skin with his words and now with such a thoughtful gift that fully displayed his artistry and exceptional needlework.

A lump in your throat held your words back.

Maybe he didn’t consider this gesture all that relevant or even worthy of a lingering thought, but you did.

This was a silent extension of him.

Now you’d have him by your heart at all times.

But the moment was cut short as a loud bang rippled across your table.

A man reeking of cheap mead cackled loudly at you. He was swaying so violently it was an incredible feat that he was able to stand on both feet without losing balance.

“Oi! Aren’t you that gal from a few years ago who did magic tricks?”

Your blood ran cold at once and your insides twisted into several knots.

“I don’t think so.” you said, focusing your gaze on the drink in front of you.

You didn’t recognise him, but you silently prayed he would just drop the matter and leave.

Instead, he hiccuped. “N-No! It is you! I would never forget such a face.”

Your eyes met Astarion’s momentarily as he narrowed his crimson eyes at the loud drunkard, and you reckoned he was close to intervening. 

You mustered your strength. “No. It’s not me.”

But the man was insistent as he was drunk.

He banged a hand on the wooden surface once more. “What? You are the one whose mother–”

The flash of a dagger pierced through your field of vision, landing right between the man’s fingers, the blade pressed menacingly against his thumb.

“She said ‘no’,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes flaring with contempt. “Should I teach you the meaning of the word?”

The man shuddered and cowered in fear as he strolled away as fast as his wobbly steps would allow.

But Astarion had overdone it and had simultaneously caused many heads to turn your way, voices whispering as people tried to make out what the fuss was all about.

“We’ve overstayed our welcome,” he said, sheathing his dagger as he stood up.

You remained frozen in place, still taken aback by the words the man had spewed at you.

Your mind had been kept too busy to dive back into the memories of your mother, and to dwell on what had happened so many years ago.

A shudder spread across your entire body as the sense of dread gripped you.

You felt his hand nudge your shoulder. “Now’s not the time for daydreaming, sweetheart.”

And he quickly tugged at your arm, pulling you up on your feet before the two of you scurried along the tavern and earning heavy glares.

You made it out just in time as two Fists crossed paths with you on their way inside, trying to disperse the crowd that had gathered around the entryway.

“What was that all about?” Astarion asked as soon as you were able to blend in with the passers-by. 

“Nothing.”

Your mouth had gone awfully dry even though you had downed most of your apple juice, replenishing your hydration level. 

He stared at you, raising a brow inquisitively. “He did actually know you, didn’t he?”

You met his gaze in a silent warning. “He must have had me confused with someone else.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, but I will not pry. We all have secrets to bear.”

You nodded, thankful for his understanding remark.

There was no point in lying to him. He could always see right through your silly attempts at deception. 

“Just know that you can come to me should you need to air them out,” he added. “I know all too well how buried secrets always find a way to crawl to the surface – one way or another.”

It was a glaring testament to how he had come to terms with opening up to someone else.

He had come far in that regard and you felt proud of him.

A faint smile settled on your lips, but it faded just as quickly once realisation hit you.

“Wait!” you said, gripping his arm. “The handkerchief – I left it there. Let me–”

He patted your back. “Leave it, darling. Unless you fancy starting a tavern brawl, that is.”

Your heart dropped.

“But…”

“I will embroider you a new one.”

But he never did.

There was no point in lying to Astarion.

You were very well aware of this.

He would spot your deceit faster than a hawk could tail its prey.

But the dreadful sense of impending doom had rooted you to the sofa.

This couldn’t all just be a coincidence. 

By the time the two of you had reached the room, Gale and Lae’zel had already vanished through a portal to Waterdeep to assess the situation. 

“All we can do for now is wait.” Astarion said, adjusting his shirt. 

Shadowheart scoffed. “This is all very odd. It’s as if something is at work against us.”

You nodded. “I agree.”

“Are the two of you in some competition to see who’s the most dramatic?” he said with a click of his tongue. “Honestly, we know nothing about what happened. Maybe his contact succumbed to self-inflicted boredom – a running theme amongst wizards.”

His sense of humour would have been welcome under different circumstances, but you were on the brink of freaking out.

“Maybe I could cast Arcane Gate and help out…” you said in a restless tone, feeling nauseous.

But the mage slayer outside kept your magic levels too low for you to successfully cast a level six conjuration spell, so it was not even an option.

Astarion immediately snorted as he joined your side. “Perish the thought. I don’t think it’d be wise to do such a thing given your condition. You might open a portal to some place infested with murderous creatures, and then I’ll have to jump in to rescue you.”

Shadowheart, who had been pacing worriedly across the room, came to an immediate halt. “What condition?”

You rubbed your temples as if it would magically dissipate the gnawing headache.

“I had too much to drink last night.”

Shadowheart’s accusatory stare immediately landed on Astarion. “What did you do?”

He scoffed dramatically. “Excuse me? I am well aware that pinning the blame on me is a recurring activity in this group, but I had nothing to do with this.”

You groaned with a wince. “Please keep your voices down…”

Shadowheart rushed to lower herself by your feet until she could eye-level with you. “Are you all right?”

No.

And it had little to do with the aftermath of your alcohol consumption.

Ava.

Your intuition was pounding ceaselessly in your mind and you just couldn’t bring yourself to ignore it any longer.

Yes, she had told you she would talk to Astarion, but your nerves were being eaten raw and time wasn’t something you could afford to spare.

“I… think I need to talk about something…” you began as a shiver tore through your body.

Shadowheart gripped your knees, her face twisted in alarmed worry. “What is it?”

You exchanged a glare with Astarion who eyed you in confusion.

“I met up with Ava last night and…” You paused briefly, pondering your next words. “She made an offering.”

His brows furrowed together. “What offering?”

You felt sweat coat your palms as your heart rate quickened in distress. “She’s under the impression someone is after us,” you said, clutching your hands together. “That whoever it is might be responsible for that dead body and us getting wrongfully arrested.”

Shadowheart was now gripping your knees firmly. “And what did she offer?”

Your leg was visibly shaking now as you were finding it harder to keep your composure.

“Apparently, when Astarion feeds on me, our blood mixes together and…”

As far as you were aware, Shadowheart wasn’t aware of his deal with Ava, so you decided to hold that information.

“She’s interested in that… mixture and wants access to it in exchange for information.”

The effect your words had was nearly catastrophic. 

Shadowheart looked positively scandalised and Astarion immediately gripped your arm, snarling, “ What? ”

He was instantly on his feet and you followed suit.

“How would she even have access to that in the first place?” she asked in awe.

Astarion spoke before you could, “I’ve been giving her some of my blood as she researches ways to counter the effects of vampirism. But I wasn’t aware of this!”

“ Astarion! ” Shadowheart let out in sheer outrage. “What in the Hells is wrong with you?”

He ignored her remark, eyes fixed on you.

He was mad.

No.

He was furious.

Up until this point, you had only ever witnessed him protect Ava and vouched for her integrity, but it seemed that he was no longer interested in upholding his defence. 

“She told me she would tell you of this as she only recently found out about it.”

“To Hells with that!” he snarled. “Did you agree to that arrangement?”

Silence

But that was answer enough.

“You should have told me!”

You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. “You never listen to me when it comes to her!”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This is different!”

“How?!”

Crimson eyes locked with yours as he scowled deeply. “She involved you!”

His admission stunned you into silence.

It wasn’t all that common nowadays to witness Shadowheart succumb to her protective instinct to the point of no return.

But you could tell she was close to snapping when she approached Astarion, yellow flames dangerously swirled across her palms.

“Give me one good reason not to blast this Ava into oblivion,” she growled with ire. “Or you, for that matter.”

He gave her a mocking scoff. “Darling, I’d love to see you try.”

She smiled deviously and you knew it was time to intervene. 

You carefully placed your hand on her arm. “Shadowheart.”

She glanced at you almost in disbelief. “‘Shadowheart’? He’s out here dealing with dodgy people and putting us all at risk! Now she’s also involved with murdering people in Waterdeep?”

Astarion let out an exasperated groan. “What connection is there between the two, then?”

In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure.

Not yet, at least.

At this point, you were allowing your gut feeling to guide you, and it could very well blow up in your face if she turned out to be innocent in all of this.

However… the warning signs were too loud to ignore.

“I… don’t know yet.”

Astarion was glaring at you with pursed lips, and you vaguely wondered if he was upset with you, or if he was actually upset that his judgement had failed him when it came to Ava.

“You can bleed yourself dry if you wish, but not her ,” Shadowheart pressed in a low voice.

“I know .” he shot back.

She took a step forward, her face dangerously close to his. “Then you’d do well to remember that my respect for you has its limits. Do not cross them.”

You tugged at her arm again, trying to put some distance in between them.

“Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he said after a while with a scoff before turning around to leave. “I’ll be in my room.”

You tried to go after him, but Shadowheart held you firmly in place. “Let him go.”

It was hard to do so, but you nodded as you sat on a nearby chair.

“I know you care deeply for him, but this is beyond ludicrous.” she said with a heavy sigh.

Her voice was that of reason, so you couldn’t fault her for being so apprehensive.

“He would never harm me.”

And you would always stand by this as sure as the sun is to rise.

“Not consciously, but by dealing with this woman, he might have opened a door to great peril.”

You nodded, avoiding her penetrating gaze. “Wyll is running a few checks on some information she gave me. I guess we’ll find an answer soon enough.”

Shadowheart’s face softened every so slightly.

“Please exert caution with Astarion,” she said, grabbing your hand. “And I’m not talking about this in particular.

Oh.

“I don’t doubt for a second that he cares for you, but I don’t want to see you bound to nightmares,” she said in a whisper. “That is no way of living.”

You took a deep breath. “Things are fine between us.”

Unexpectedly, she let out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure. My room is next to his and… well, let’s just say that I may have overheard him mumbling your name a few times…”

“What do you…”

Oh.

“So, just… be careful,” she pleaded as she gripped your hand fiercely. “I trust your judgement, but not his… especially not after this.

You felt your heart swell with affection for Shadowheart and you pulled her into a tight embrace, almost tearing up as you did so.

“Thank you.”

She rubbed your back affectionately and whispered, “I adore you.”

“So do I.”

It was becoming more and more apparent that standing outside Astarion’s room was almost part of a routine now.

After a few more seconds, she finally pulled back with a reassuring smile. “I’ll tell the Fists outside to inform Wyll of what’s happened.”

And it was also unnecessarily hard to reach out for that first knock.

You had waited a couple of hours before deciding on what to do.

Wyll hadn’t shown up yet and there was still no word from Waterdeep.

So, you took a deep breath and as you were about to rasp your knuckles against the door, a charming voice was heard, “I know you’re outside.”

Of course he did.

“Can I come in?”

A brief pause.“Be my guest.”

You turned the knob and rushed inside, clicking the door shut behind you.

As expected, the room was plunged in a candle-lit dimness as the curtains draped over the window kept the blazing sun at bay.

Astarion lay on his bed, resting against the headboard as he threaded his way along a piece of cloth with a needle, his eyes solely focused on the task at hand.

Your stomach turned and twisted in knots, and you realised you weren’t quite sure how to start the conversation.

A low chuckle was heard. “I’m assuming you didn’t come here to simply stare at me, darling.”

The lightheartedness in his voice made you feel slightly at ease and you shook your head. “No. I suppose not.”

This time, he did meet your eyes briefly and your heart skipped a beat.“As dashing as I am, I’d rather hear what you have to say instead.”

Right.

You cleared your throat, taking careful steps towards him before taking a seat at the feet of his bed, mindful to keep a certain respectful distance.

“I should have told you about Ava earlier on when you asked me.”

“Indeed.”

He didn’t sound upset in the slightest.

If anything, there was a faint hint of strange calmness to his voice.

“As for Shadowheart…”

He let out a snort. “Please. The day she stops worrying about you is the day I’ll find her in a casket.”

You couldn’t help out a short chuckle as he was absolutely right. 

Still, you laced your hands in your lap, absentmindedly fidgeting with your fingers. “I…” you began, before drifting off as uncertainty took place. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Astarion paused altogether and his crimson eyes were on you again.

“See, I do understand that reasoning,” he said, tugging at the thread that curled around one finger. “But considering the nature of your conversation with her, you should have told me right away.”

You nodded.

“As fruitful as my connection to her might prove to be, I cannot accept the deal you made with her.”

Your heart raced in your chest at how determined he seemed in his resolve. 

However…

“If what she says is true and someone is after us, this feels like a small price to pay.”

Astarion snipped the thread with a pair of scissors before setting his handiwork on the bedside table.

The look on his face could easily make the bravest men cower in fear.

“Nothing that involves you is a ‘small price to pay’,” he said, voice low and heavy. “It’s one thing for me to willfully provide my blood, and another for her to take advantage of you so blatantly.”

You frowned deeply. “She is also taking advantage of you, then.” 

“I can deal with her.”

Astarion had this tendency to sell himself short in terms of self-worth. At times, he was as confident as one could be, but the centuries of robbed autonomy and lack of genuine bond to others would often slip in and take hold.

He was probably not even aware of how easy it was for you to catch on to this, but you knew him well enough by now. 

“You don’t have to.”

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

It nearly shattered you to hear him put up his defences around you so unbelievably fast.

There was no need for that.

“Don’t ,” you nearly pleaded. “Please don’t assume I am trying to tell you what to do.”

Just as rapidly, his features softened ever so slightly. “I apologise.”

You vehemently shook your head. “I also apologise if my words came across as condescending.”

An unsettling silence took place.

His eyes roamed across your face and you felt more exposed to him than you had ever been even when fully naked in his presence.

Even though you felt comfortable and safe with him, there were times when you wondered if it was reciprocal.  

“Ava is not your concern,” he eventually said. “I will deal with her.”

You had no doubt he would.

It just saddened you that… “I know she was helping you out in more ways than one, even if I don’t particularly agree with the… method, so to speak.”

“Yet here you are, thinking that whatever bond I share with her is significant enough,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “I am using her as much as she is using me. But I never allowed for that to extend to you. Ever .”

You swallowed as his harsh words hit you.

“That was her first mistake – involving you.”

“I took the deal freely.” you said.

“You didn’t have to at all,” he retorted impatiently. “She needs me more than I need her. So, if she knows anything about someone coming after us, she will tell me and I won’t be kind when I ask her to.”

Fair enough.

“Will you still give her your blood?”

“It depends.”

You blinked. “On what?”

“On how the conversation goes,” he said with a shrug. “Though what I do know for certain is that I will not give her blood after feeding on you.”

An impending sense of dread rose inside you and you vaguely wondered if you had just fucked up.

Information was power, and you worried that she might not take it well now that Astarion was openly against her proposal. 

But to be fair, she did mention she would let him know about all of this. So, it wasn’t truly your fault that he didn’t take it well, was it?

In fact, it was very much on brand with Astarion.

His sense of loyalty to you was unwavering and transcended any arrangement the two of you had agreed to.

And that was a bond not easily severed, probably much to Ava’s dismay.

“You are off limits.”

It wasn’t a subtle warning by any means and it made your heart swell with warmth somehow. His protectiveness nearly rivalled that of Shadowheart, though you wouldn’t dare tell her this.

A faint smile curled his lips. “I have to thank you.”

You arched an eyebrow. “For what?”

He hesitated at first. “I know you mean well. I do know that.”

Oh, Astarion…

“You’re a better friend than I could ever have hoped for – or even deserve,” he went on. “It is hard at times to be vulnerable. I was never allowed to. For centuries I equated being vulnerable to being weak… even pathetic.”

You were unsure of how to respond, but you felt each word tug at your heartstrings in a way that you had only felt when he had confessed his feelings for you back in Moonrise Towers. 

“I’m still getting used to this…” He paused abruptly as if pondering his next words. “Allowing myself to feel all these emotions, I suppose.”

“You are more deserving than you think,” you said truthfully. “Give yourself some credit. You used to be bound to your selfishness when we first met. You didn’t care for others because no one ever cared for you.”

His face held an expression akin to hurt, but it was the good kind of pain. Breaking one’s protective shell didn’t come without discomfort, but it was worth it in the long run. 

Unconsciously, you shifted along the edge of the bed as the overwhelming urge to embrace him took over you at once. 

Still, you didn’t want to push it, so you halted once you were sitting right next to him, which earned an amused smile from him.

“I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

He reached his hand to grab the piece of cloth on the nightstand. The very same he had just been embroidering moments ago.

“Come here.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he tapped his thigh twice. 

Noticing your hesitancy, he repeated the motion until you gathered yourself, feeling a rush of heat pool at your cheeks.

“You do have a thing for keeping me waiting, darling.” he remarked playfully.

A chuckle made its way past your lips as you moved to settle on his lap, careful not to sit too close to his-

“Here you go,” he said, proffering what resembled a kerchief of some sort.

You took it in your hands, admiring its silky texture and mesmerising fusion of different shades of blue that swirled beautifully together until your eyes spotted the yellow-threaded embroidery sprawled along one corner.

Your name.

The needlework was impeccable as always.

Your eyes widened in sheer bewilderment as you remembered the last time he had offered you such a gift.“I – this is beautiful,” you managed to say. “The other one was a masterpiece as well.”

He chuckled tenderly. “The timing of my offering was rather inopportune on that day – I should have waited until we were back in camp.”

His words were sweet and caressed you like a lover, and you could feel yourself drawn more and more to him.

“May I?”

You nodded as he took the kerchief from your hands only to have it drape around your neck, his fingers tugging gently at both ends as his eyes met yours.

Oh.

Fuck.

You only had time to hastily hold on to the headboard with both hands for support as he pulled you in closer. “May I kiss you?”

It was an uncomfortable position to be in since you were trying to avoid his crotch at all costs.

“Where?”

His gaze dropped to your lips.

“Friends don’t do that.” you teased, but still inching closer to him.

“Darling ,” he began with a click of his tongue, rolling the edges of the fabric around each finger. “We haven’t been friends for quite a while now.”

And then he kissed you.

It was a hungry and urgent kiss and his tongue quickly slipped past your lips, causing you to instantly melt into him.

The softest moan escaped your throat as you felt a single fang nip teasingly at your lower lip.

Driven by pure instinct, you shifted along his thighs until you were pressed against his crotch.

He broke the kiss to let out a strained groan and you immediately lifted your hips, alarmed that you had gone too far.

But his hands immediately dropped to your waist, holding you in place. “Don’t.”

You met his lustful gaze. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. Please .”

He didn’t push you back against him, but you felt his fingers tease the waistband of your trousers. 

“Astarion…” you said, unsure if this was a good idea.

He tugged again, but more gently this tme. “We don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with.”

Oh, you were more than eager to carry on. In fact, you were desperate .

You bit your lip, torn between listening to reason or giving in to the moment.

The latter won by a landslide. 

You nodded and he masterfully undid the buttons and laces with one hand.

“Do you trust me?”

What an odd question from him. “You know I do.”

His thumb traced your jawline before grazing your lower lip and earning a sigh from you. “Can I trust you not to scream?”

“Scream? Why would I-”

Realisation hit you like a tidal wave and your eyes widened as words died in your mouth.

Oh.

Astarion smiled cheekily, patting your thigh, clearly urging you to slide off of his lap.  “Lock the door.”

You were still taken aback and didn't move an inch, staring into his crimson eyes instead as your heart drummed rapidly in your chest.

“Lock the door .”

It resembled a plea, which caused you to clench involuntarily from how desperate he sounded.

Swiftly slipping off his lap, you hurried across his room to turn the key below the doorknob until a click was heard.

By the time you turned around, Astarion had removed his shirt and you were rooted in place, utterly speechless.

He was a work of art. 

No words of praise would ever do him justice.

Your mouth had dropped slightly open and he chuckled deviously. “You’re free to stay there and gawk, but I’d rather have you on top of me.”

His teasing snapped you out of your trance-like state and you felt a stronger wave of heat flare across your face and rush down your body.

Your legs felt weak all of a sudden, but you found your way back to him as you always did.

In the end, all roads did lead back to him.

As if driven by an outside force, you quickly slipped out of your trousers, only leaving on your underwear which was already gathering a growing wet spot.

His stare was fixed on your lower half and you spotted the familiar outline of his cock strained in his own trousers.

He eased you back on his lap with a firm grip on your waist and a boyish grin on his lips. Your hands settled on his bare shoulders, still mindful to not lower your hips too much.

“So, my dearest friend… ” he said, adjusting the kerchief around your neck. “How often do you indulge in such activities with your other friends?”

You smirked playfully. “Not often enough.”

He mirrored your expression, fingers slowly undoing each button of your shirt. “Oh? I wonder who crosses your mind, then.”

You.

But he already knew that as his hands travelled down your chest, each breath allowing your shirt to part wide enough to expose your heaving breasts.

“Is it Wyll?”

“You and your obsession with Wyll,” you laughed as he slowly pulled the fabric to the side, exposing each breast at a time. “I’m starting to think you want him for yourself.”

His eyes left yours to gaze at a perky nipple. “The question is: would you be willing to share?”

You whimpered softly as his thumb traced the underside of one breast and you felt too tempted to press down against his erection just so you could comfort the throb in between your legs. 

“Of course… I’m all for sharing friends.” 

Once he began grazing your nipple, you had to grip his shoulders tighter to anchor yourself.

Your body undulated instinctively, earning a hum of approval from him.

“Would you let Wyll do this, then? As a friend, obviously.”

You were about to arch a brow at his question when you felt one finger pulling your underwear to the side, exposing yourself to him.

It was almost comical how soaked you already were.

You reckoned it was enough to take more than just his fingers.

“Would you let him, darling?”

“I–”

But your voice died in your throat as he ran a single cool finger along your folds, carefully avoiding the swell in between them much to your agony.

The shift in temperature was always something that took some time getting used to and you occasionally flinched as your body adjusted to his touch.

“Can I do this, then?” he asked in a low growl as he teased your entrance. “As a friend.”

You rolled your hips out of reflex and he sank into you with ease until he was knuckle-deep. 

“Gods…” you moaned in sheer relief, instinctively clenching around him.

He then pressed his thumb between your folds, causing your hips to jerk as he teased the pulsing swell. It wasn’t long until you began to slowly ride him, your eyes nearly fluttering shut.

“You can take more, can’t you?” he cooed, moving his hand to tease your other nipple. “I remember how eager you used to be for my cock.”

At this rate, he would make you come from his teasing words alone and with a single finger buried inside you.

“Astarion… don’t…” you moaned as you rolled your hips, urging him on. 

He needed to shut up…

You needed him to stop talking before-

He suddenly slipped a second finger and you lost your balance, pressing your breasts against his bare chest while seeking support from his shoulder as you buried your face in his neck.

“You have no idea how I longed to be inside you again,” he sighed, his fingers gripping your waist and guiding your sloppy rolls, eventually setting the pace. “My hands can never feel as divine as you do.”

Gods…

You shuddered violently as your moans quickly turned into sobs and whimpers, the wet lewd sounds filling your ears.

He pressed the heel of his palm against you, the delicious friction causing you to rake your  hand down from his shoulder and along his chest until he caught your wrist, pressing your heated palm against his hardened nipple.

Astarion immediately groaned and you felt him arch into you.

“Darling…” he moaned, pumping his fingers faster inside you. “Please look down.”

You were so out of it, that his words didn’t register at first, so you kept on riding him in between sobs, further teasing his nipple under your touch.

“Look down,” he repeated more firmly, nearly slipping out of you. “I want you to see the mess you’ve made.”

“ No-no-no … please…” you nearly cried in exasperation, moving your hips desperately against him.

“Then look down.”

You growled in pure frustration, somehow managing to pull back enough to have your eyes land on the hand in between your legs.

It was soaked down to his wrist, and you could see some of it beginning to drip, staining his strained bulge.

You felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment wash down over you and tried to bury your face in his neck again, but he gripped your chin with his fingers, halting you.

“Do not hide from me,” he said, slipping his fingers back inside as he stared into your half-hooded eyes. “This is one of the highest praises you can offer me.” And he proved his point by planting the softest kiss on your lips.

You immediately melted into his praise, realising just how lovely he could be…

The pent-up sexual frustration was at an all time high and you could feel the familiar coil in your lower abdomen reach the point of no return.

You wished you were strong enough to fight him back with snarky and witty replies, but your concentration was broken. 

“What about a third one?”

You didn’t care anymore.

You just wanted release.

It had been too long since he had made you come and you'd take anything he gave you at this point.

“Just…” you began, chasing after that high relentlessly. “ Just… ”

He had the nerve to chuckle at your frustration and you felt a third finger prodding at your entrance.

You could take it.

You would take it.

The fullness would most surely remind you of his cock and you needed it.

You were wet enough to accommodate him as he pushed through, earning a gasp from you followed by a shudder and a strained groan.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I highly doubt dear Wyll would get this reaction from you.”

“Gods… stop talking about Wyll as you’re inside me,” you managed to string coherents words together in between your moans. “Just… please…”

He pressed a kiss to your flushed cheek. “You always take me so well.”

How you wished it was his cock instead, stretching you even more and filling you deeper.

You were nearly there.

“Don’t scream, darling.” he teased as you rode him desperately. “We wouldn't want dear Shadowheart to overhear your wanton cries.”

Well, Shadowheart was already privy to the nature of your relationship with Astarion thanks to him and how he clearly didn't shy away from taking care of himself with others around.

Your mind was about to blank and you slid the kerchief from your neck, feeling the need to bite down on something as you reached your peak.

A few more hip rolls did the trick and one last stroke of his thumb along your folds managed to push you right over the edge.

Your contractions were so violent and strong at first you thought you might die from how hard you were clenching around him, your legs wobbling dangerously as you were drained of lifeforce with each blinding wave of bliss.

The piece of cloth in your mouth didn’t do much to muffle you as your climax tore throughout your body, but it was better than having nothing.

Astarion only slid out once you had slumped into his chest, barely able to keep your breathing steady.

Your knees gave out and you sank down against his crotch, earning a guttural growl from deep within him.

Shit.

You instantly slid off of him, worrying you had accidentally gone too far. “Astarion… I’m…”

He shook his head, the hand that was soaked in your wetness clawing at the front of his trousers as his eyes were pressed shut.

Oh.

“I’ll take care of this…” he let out a pained hiss.

Oh.

“I can just leave,” you mumbled. “I’m…”

His trousers were now undone and you could see his clothes cock faintly throbbing.

And he shook his head once again. “You can stay – you can watch… if you want to.” His words were coated in urgent lust. 

Your eyes widened at his proposition and you thought you might implode right there and then.

You had barely come down from your climax and the throbbing that had begun to subside was already about to match your quickened heartbeat.

“Or you can leave…” he said in a low and strained voice.

Oh, he was truly holding back…

“I… can stay.” you offered at once, sitting next to him and trying to ignore the lust that was building inside you once again.

This wasn't about you.

He quickly nodded and with a swift tug he freed his cock and you had to bite down hard on your lip at the mesmerising sight in front of you.

A single strand of precum dangled from the tip, already pooling on his lower abdomen. 

“Gods above…” he let out a sigh of relief, hips lifting from the mattress as he wrapped the hand drenched in your wetness around him. 

This was too hot to witness and you curled your hands into fists on your lap, wishing nothing more than to touch him again.

But you knew he needed this.

He needed to feel at ease with his body first.

His eyes met yours briefly before dropping to your chest and to your breasts as they heaved from your laboured breathing.

You removed your shirt, not wanting to obstruct his view and Astarion growled .

The pace was slow at first as he squeezed his cock, but he quickly picked up, mixing your wetness with his with each stroke.

He looked positively ethereal as his handsome face twisted in pleasure, lips parted and razor-sharp fangs peeking through. 

Should you say something? Should you praise him? Encourage him? Or would it be too much?

From what you remembered, he seemed to revel in your teasing words in moments of shared bliss, but how much of that was an act back then? Was he ever able to fully enjoy being with you?

In doubt, you chose to remain silent as you watched him bring himself closer to his own climax.

It didn't take him long to start mumbling your name in between heated pants and there was no way back now.

You were throbbing hard again, wetness spilling from you with each involuntarily clench. 

Your body was so ready for him… it was almost painful.

A thicker string of precum bridged his tip to his abdomen, and you nearly moaned, remembering its sweet taste.

He rolled his hips languidly, eyes never leaving you as he gripped the bedsheets under him with such force you reckoned me might tear right through the fabric.

That sparked newfound curiosity inside you.

Slowly, you leaned forward, shifting closer just to have your hand next to his without quite touching him, but close enough for him to feel your warmth.

I'm here… I'm with you, you wanted to whisper, but only heard the words echo in your head.

He groaned in response and, much to your surprise, he released the sheets and his fingers found you, intertwining them in yours as he held on to you. 

Your heart might have skipped several beats, you were no longer sure at this rate.

You had seen him reach his peak a handful of times before, but there was something different about the way he toppled over the edge this time.

He threw his head back against the headboard, straining his neck as his mouth dropped open, your name being the only intelligible word you could make out in the midst of hisses and groans. 

Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest that you feared you might not make it as he reached his peak.

His hips still momentarily and he covered his swollen tip with his hand and the first spurts of cum began to slip through his fingers before dribbling down to gather at the base and across his lower abdomen.

You held his hand formçy through his climax. Perhaps the first genuine one you had ever witnessed, which invoked an odd feeling of… delight?

For the second time in just a mere couple of days, the two of you held hands albeit seeking varying degrees of comfort and relief.

Beads of sweat rolled down his temple and covered his bare torso as he descended from his high and that was when his eyes met yours.

Your stomach turned and you felt the throb between your legs begin to ease with each passing second.

“Will you kiss me?”

His request took you by surprise, but you promptly shifted next to him until your face was close enough that your lips grazed his.

Only then did he let go of your hand and merely because he meant to hold your chin as he kissed you softly.

It carried neither urgency nor lust.

Just a pure display of silent  intimacy that strummed at your heartstrings more effectively than any other praise he could ever offer you.

You melted into his sweet touch and allowed your kiss to express the unspoken words you had yet to tell him.

I love you…

Whichever form of love it was, all you knew was that it felt right and love overdue.

You could feel him occasionally smile against your lips and there was not a single drop of doubt in you.

I love you.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled away, already mourning his touch.

“Shadowheart knows.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

You had to hold back a chuckle. “She heard you – well, when you were… handling things after feeding on me.”

The most mischievous of smiles settled on his lips. 

“I thought you said you were quiet…”

“I was, darling,” he said before pecking your cheek. “For the most part, that is.”

You giggled and then stared at him in awe as his beauty increased tenfold from where you sat.

He was impossibly handsome.

“You’re so…”

“Charming?”

You rolled your eyes as he pressed his cool lips to your other cheek.

“Beautiful?”

Another kiss.

“You’re so… you.” you blurted out almost feeling embarrassed from how basic your praise was.

But it drew the biggest smile from him, and you mirrored it instantly.

“Well…”

You watched as his eyes dropped to his lower half and yours widened slightly at the obscene amount of cum was now dribbling down his sides in thick beads. His hand was still holding his now softening cock, fingers drenched in his own spend.

“That’s a lot…” you said.

He nodded, looking almost as perplexed as you were. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” and his voice trailed down.

And you knew exactly what he meant.

With a warm smile, you extended your hand, offering him the kerchief he had gifted you moments before.

He visibly winced. “No, darling. It would be nigh criminal to use such delicate fabric on this .”

Your smile widened. “Can I fetch you a towel then?”

“Please,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “It’s rather messy here.”

You pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before sliding off the bed and hurriedly slipping into your shirt and trousers and crossing the room.

The key turned in one swift move and you quickly left the room.

You were only able to take a few steps before a silhouette startled you.

Shadowheart.

She was leaning against the railing by the top of the staircase with folded arms and a quirked brow.

“Gods! You scared me,” you said, clutching at your chest. 

“Glad some of us are able to enjoy ourselves in such times.”

You swallowed hard. “Uh… we were just talking.”

She snickered humorously. “I suppose it’s a form of communication.”

An overwhelming heatwave spread across your face. Had you been that loud? Or had he? 

Then her expression turned serious. “Pull yourself together. We have visitors.” 

TBC

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!reader #the arrangement #astarion smut

[bananami]

STFUATTDLAGG

character/s: choso kamo x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: meangirl!reader x loser!choso is a pairing that lives in my head rent free so when you all voted for choso to be the next hot man i wrote for i knew this was what would come out of it so let’s get into it whores

WARNINGS: this is college based bc u know why. 18+, nsfw, mdni, the whole shebang, kiddos avert ur eyes IT'S ALL SMUT / also just be aware i did use fem language for reader. as always, i did not proof read xxx

A/N: delusion is like drugs for simps, and i am the crackhead

Choso isn't like a nerdy loser, more like he’s just an emo boy, he’s got that alternative look going on and in a school full of preppy rich kids he stands out like a sore thumb. Of course this leads to some not so nice kids being not so nice to him, to which like he literally could not care less. He pays no mind to what anyone thinks of him beyond of course what his brothers think of him.

And as much as people aren’t nice to him, they do not fuck with him directly, lowkey scared of his reactions. Especially following a specfic incident in which someone tried to pick a fight with him. At first he was going to just let it slide but then they said something rude about Yuuji and this man laid them out. People were sent to urgent care and everything. Choso was put on suspension and almost kicked out, but their family friend is a lawyer and threatened to sue the school and anyways (if you know who you know who) so he was allowed back at school and everyone’s a little weary of him. This doesn’t stop the mean comments from coming.

And you. You’re no exception. You made fun of him every chance you got. The way he always did his hair in that weird double bun updo, or how he had his nails painted black, his various piercings and tattoos, the way he dressed so much different, was so much different, than any of the other guys you knew at school.

And you were so disgustingly attracted to him. While everyone would sneer and make fun of him and you played along, in reality you were internally berating yourself.

Choso did his best to ignore you but to be honest in the end you were just too fun to mess with. He thought it was cute how you thought you could hurt his feelings, how you really tried, and didn’t realize that he had a thing for brats and that’s just what you were. Everyone else was too afraid to say it straight to his face ever since the fight except for you.

One time he caught you staring at him and he couldn’t help himself, leaning over with a careless smirk. "If you spent less time staring at me and more time paying attention to the lecture maybe you wouldn’t be failing the class."

"Fuck you, Choso.”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hoped he’d mistake your embarrassment for anger. He didn’t. You snapped back, as usual. "Maybe if you didn’t dress like such a freak, you’d actually have some friends.”

"Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch your boyfriends would actually stick around for longer than a few months."

The one stung, and you tried not to let it show. Thrown off your game, all you could bring yourself to reply back was: “don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged, as though he were bored with the conversation already. "I never said it was a bad thing, just that you keep dating dudes who can’t handle you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn't answer though, and you spend way too much time thinking about what he could've meant. Was he implying that he could handle you? Was that why he constantly found ways to poke at you? Did he like when you were a brat? Did it matter if he liked it? It led your fantasies down a deep and dark rabbit hole that you spent weeks harping on.

Things get even worse after you realize that Choso might’ve been right about your grades slipping and staring at him in class and whatnot. And (for plot reasons of course) that would mean your professor paired you up with him for the final project so that you’d stand a better chance at passing the class.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside of his apartment door, debating how much you need to actually pass the course for your degree. You kept coming to the same conclusion. You definitely needed to.

"You just gonna stand at my door like a creep or can you move so i can let you inside?” He stood at the top of the staircase up to his apartment, watching you with another bored expression.

You're reaction is second nature. "I’m the creep? How long were you just standing there watching me? Maybe I’d already knocked and you didn’t answer so I was waiting. Let’s get on with it, I don’t need anyone seeing me hanging around-”

"Alright relax, princess. No one’s around to hear you act like you hate me. Come inside and I’ll grab us something to drink.” He opened the door to let you both inside, holding it open for you to enter first.

"First off, I do hate you. And second, how do I know you’re not going to poison me?”

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t poison you. The plan was going more in the direction of choking.”

"Choked to death? Good to know.”

"You implied killing. All i said was choking.”

"Oh, gross.” You groaned. You pushed away the images that were brought to your mind. Choso's hand around your throat, fingers in your mouth, his breathy whispers telling you what else he'd have you choking on by the end of the night.

It's not too bad for the first few hours. You start out working on the project in the living room, but Choso’s neighbors are loud as all hell and you eventually ask if you guys can move into a room away from that shared wall. And (of course for plot purposes) that would be his bedroom.

"Your bedroom is exactly as I pictured it would be."

"This is the part where I make fun of you for picturing what my bedroom looks like."

"Yeah weird and creepy, just like you.”

"Your insults are getting less and less creative.”

"Yeah well….shut up.”

He’s surprised at that, usually you’d come back at him with something witty and clever and he actually enjoyed it.

It’s quiet and he’s sitting at his desk while you lay casually on his bed when he decides now’s as good a time as ever, and he might never actually get you alone again to say it.

"You ever gonna admit that you find me attractive or keep lying to the both of us?"

You wince. "I don't find you attractive. Stop flattering yourself."

"You flatter me enough with all the staring and drooling you do over me in class."

"You're obsessive," you snap at him.

"At least i can admit it."

You're caught off guard, stuck between wanting to ask what he means and not wanting to give in to the obvious baiting he's doing. When he throws the study material down on to his desk and plops down in front of you on his bed, it seems like he's resigned to not giving you that choice.

"Tell you what, I'll tell you all of the dirty and depraved things I think about on a daily basis, and you can decide after whether you'd like to share those same thoughts of yours with me or not."

"Why would I want to hear any of the thoughts in your head?"

"Because a lot of them revolve directly around you." He's leaned so close you're almost touching one another. Your silence is enough to spur him on. "I think you've never been fucked properly before."

You can't contain the look that falls on your face. "Seriously? This what you think about? My sex life is none of your business, but I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you very much."

He ignores you. "I don't think you've ever been told to shut the fuck up and take it like the good girl I know you can be." That shut you up real quick. Choso is on his knees in front of you, hands cupping around your neck, his thumbs running across your cheeks. "You're whiney little fucking attitude not do it for your boyfriends?" He teased. "They not know how to deal with you when you're being a brat, huh?"

You're head moves without conscious effort, nodding to agree with him.

"You just want some attention, don't you?"

Another nod.

"You want my attention, don't you?"

Hesitation. But you can't help yourself, his presence looming heavy over you, pushing you to admit what you'd kept in the dark for so long.

One of his hands slithers from your throat, down your chest, under the sweats you threw on in a rush to get to his apartment. You're so distracted by his fingers that you don't notice his face moving closer until his mouth is prying yours open. That's all it takes from him to have you stroking your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of the buns they typically are held in.

"Such a little brat." He's hovering over you, pushing your hips into the soft cushion of his bed with his. "Feel how hard it makes me?" He teases as he grinds his hips down, his clothed cock sliding against your center. Your eyes flutter and he grips onto your face with one hand, squeezing firmly. "You're gonna fuck me tonight. Nod if you understand."

You can't believe how quick your head moves up and down. "You're gonna take off those pretty little panties you wore hoping I'd get to see and slide up and down my dick until I tell you to stop. I don't want you cumming until I feel you've begged enough."

It takes no time at all for him to flip the two of you and prop himself up on his forearms. His pants are shimmied off and thrown to his bedroom floor alongside yours.

Your hands are desperate to line him up, anticipation building to have him deep inside of you, but his shoot out to pull them up and place them against his chest. "No, no, no. You don't get me inside you yet, not until you prove to me you deserve it." He urges you along his shaft, flat against his stomach. "That's right, be a good little slut for me and let me feel that pussy slide against my dick."

You watch him from above, his face contorting from concentration to pleasure to near desperation. You've never felt as powerful as you did riding him. Not a single one of your boyfriends ever turning you on as much as Choso was right now. He made you work for it, praising you when you did what he asked, and you chased that praise.

"Shit, look at that baby," he grabbed your hair and yanked your face down to watch yourself slide against him. "Need to feel you squeeze that pussy around me. Fuck, slide me in, slide me in-" his loud groans matched your high pitched sound of relief at having him seated inside you. "Fuck this."

He flipped the two of you back over, gripping each of your legs and forcing them up. "Hold right under your knees for me. Good girl, keep yourself open for me, let me just use you." He fell to his forearms as he plowed into you, giving you no time to get used to any sort of pace.

You tried your best to hold your legs, but you wanted so badly to touch him. One of your hands wandered back up into his lose hair.

He could barely keep his eyes open, mumbling all kinds of truths you were sure he would've kept locked inside had he not been so drunk on the feel of being inside you. "So fucking pretty," he kissed you sloppily, "such a stupid fucking brat, just needed my cock inside you. Feel like heaven, baby. Gonna let me cum inside your little cunt, right? Made me wait so fucking long to have you, I deserve it. Don't I deserve it?"

You can barely form any coherent words, setting for nodding and breathy uh huhs.

"So fucking mean to me, and look how good I'm being to you, huh?" You feel the light slap of his head against your cheek. "Say your sorry, beg me to cum inside your pussy."

You do beg, your apology comes out in between the stuttering and slurring of your words, but you beg and plead with him until he concedes. It his own orgasm that pushes you over, his groans and relentlessness that follow, pushing himself passed the point of no return. You can see the beginning of what looks like tears in his eyes, and he has to force himself to stop, his hips jerking from the overstimulation.

He kisses you ruthlessly, letting his tongue claim your mouth in a manner more harsh than it is anything else. And when he pulls away and his eyes settle back on yours they're equally as harsh.

"No more shitty little boyfriends that can't handle you. I'll handle you. You want my cock, you ask nicely. Understand?"

"Yes," you let your lips peck his, surprising him, "what if I don't wanna be nice about it?"

He smirks, "try it and find out. Now get on your knees and suck my cock like the good girl I know you can be."

#choso x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #choso smut #jjk choso #choso x you #choso x female reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso