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scandalcus · 5 months

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⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ IN MY MOUTH ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

astarion ancunin x fem!reader

summary: astarion prefers you a moaning mess. but, if he needs to, he'll resort to ways to keep you as quiet as possible. his fingers do just fine.

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v, astarion's shoving his fingers in your mouth, a pet name or two, not proof-read

a/n: you can't see me right now but i'm blushing and twirling my hair right now. inspired by that one black dresses song.

The second he came up behind you and snaked his arm around the exposed skin of your torso at one of many nightly gatherings at camp, you knew how the night would end. You tasted it on the tip of your tongue alongside the alcohol, tasted it when his mouth had connected with yours, tongues swirling, the flesh around your lips shiny, coated in a salivated mess from feverish kisses.

It turned into something more.

It was all you could taste — warm, salty fingers on the surface of your wet tongue.

The feeling was familiar like you had been in this situation before. The comfortable material of your trousers pulled right below your ankles, hairs covering every inch of your skin, quick palpitations of the heart as it had stolen the breath from your contracting lungs. It was something that you hoped never grew foreign.

There’s a delicious numbness that accompanies the coolness of his hands on you, plump lips closed over the fresh hickey below your jawline, fingers gentle yet yearning as they ghost the dip of your bare hip; skimming across rising gooseflesh before it settles right above your lower half. Your stomach muscles tighten at the slight tickle of his touch, nails digging crescents in the flesh near your hip bones, icy lips pressed against your jaw.

There’s a sense of urgency in the way he thrusts, skin slapping against skin as he buries himself deeper within you, cock aching to find some sort of relief in the warmness you provide. Even now, as he hooks his fingers into your mouth, focusing on the sensation of you hollowing your cheeks, swirling the smooth muscle of your tongue around those two digits, thin and bony as his knuckles skim the ridges of your teeth, it’s not enough.

Astarion’s panting; breaths shallow and uneven, nipping at the skin of your neck when he unsheaths himself. The action elicits a moan from you — one he fumbles to quickly cover by shoving them further — the small noise mingling into the subtle growing heat of the surrounding air; too thick to breathe properly in.

An involuntary gag escaped you, vision blurring as your lids flutter shut, your bottom lashes brushing against the smoothness of your skin as he continues his relentless pace, bucking his hips to feel more of you — every possible delicious inch he could all while trying to keep you quiet. The wet muscle of his tongue darts out between his chapped lips, paving a path above the pulse point of his favorite spot, right near your jawbone before it reaches the tip of your ear.

“Sh,” He whispered huskily, ceasing the air making its way out of your lungs. The barely audible hiss of the command send a shiver up your spine, hairs raising, heart thumping so loudly that - aside from his words, all you could hear was your blood coursing through your veins.

“As much as I enjoy those lovely sounds any other night, you’ll have to be quieter for me, pet.”

Right… you were in his tent, your friends sleeping soundly in theirs, unaware ( or so you hope ) about your nightly activities taking place a mere couple of feet away. They’d never know how eager he was, pounding into your cunt with such enthusiasm that you could practically see the small twinkle in his dark eyes.

There was no hint of embarrassment weaved in his words as he spoke, a low, airy laugh reaching your ears a second after. Astarion’s free hand gripped your right side, calloused fingers causing you to bite back a moan as you lifted your hips, the fat of your thighs closing in around his, muffled mewls leaving his lips in a flurry of pants. His cock writhing inside of you, the vibration of his satisfaction on your flesh reverberating against the two warm fingers between your sweet lips, it was all too much.

It’s something that crosses his hazy mind just for a second as he lifts his head to stare at your form — sweat blooming on your forehead — shining between the valley of your breasts and gods knows where else.

Your stomach tightens once again, jaw widening just a tad more, focusing on the way they bent to touch your uvula, warm, wet tears trickling down your cheeks as you close your mouth around them. The elf tugged his lower lip between his teeth, something to distract him from burying himself as far as he could go. He was in no way a stranger to restraint — but this — this might just be his breaking point.

“I know you can try harder than that, love.” He drawls out lowly.

Your clammy palms trail up his arms, following the light outline of muscle before they find a home on his shoulders, gripping with such intensity, that it paired well with the developing knot in your stomach.

The heat consuming your insides was unlike anything you had ever felt with him before, and it was something you found yourself grateful for as you came undone beneath him, clutching him closer to you as if he’d suddenly disappear the second your mind wasn’t as foggy as it currently was.

“Please.” A pathetic whisper of one word was all you could manage as he twitched within you, the sound of your arousal causing his teeth to part as he sucked in a harsh breath.

An almost animalistic growl leaves his lips as he shakes his head, silver curls landing near his forehead, eyes screwed shut. He stops himself halfway inside of you, raising a hand to brush across your forehead slick with sweat.

“Oh, darling, I’m not cumming that easily.”

tags: @tragedybunny, @astariongf, @elora-the-slutty-songstress, @micropoe10, @vxnillavampir, @spacebarbarianweird

#omg #i’m creaming my jeans rn #other works #astarion recs

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scandalcus · 5 months

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things i feel like would destroy gale

- a really bad black friday sale “seriously?! why even bother?”

- hearing careless whisper for the first time

- those commercials for adopting animals

- he goes to open up a new spell book but halfway through an image floats off the page. it’s the josh hutcherson 2014 whistle edit.

- traffic

#GALE LISTENING TO CARELESS WHISPERR DJSJSNSNS #he would LOVE that song #THE JOSH HUTCHERSON EDIT #bro would literally explode #like actually #iykyk #these r so accurate pls

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scandalcus · 5 months

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MECHANIC!ELLIE ; e.w.

content warnings: swearing, slightly mean ellie but she's just hot and irritated, plus she apologizes.

note: thanks @scandalcus for the inspo! based on this!

"babe. lefty loosy, righty tighty. if we're trying to tighten it, then why the fuck are you going left?" ellie emphasizes as she snatches the tool from your hands.

"quit snatching shit from me before i throw this tire at your head." the aggravated roll of your eyes and the sweat drops threatening to fall down the entrance of your shirt has ellie's lips curling in a smile.

"you look so hot right now."

you groan loudly, snatching the tool back from ellie. "just show me how to do this so i can go back inside."

it's mid october and still eighty something degrees outside and of course on the hottest day of the week ellie decides to give mechanic lessons.

you wonder how much damage you can do launching the heavy metal tool box at her face with every word she speaks. she's hot and irritated, just as you are, and being a total bitch as if she's not the one who brought you out here. you feel like you're holding the flashlight for your dad as he works on his car all over again with the way she bosses you around.

ellie catches the pout of your lips, arms crossed and cheeks flushed from the heat. she begins to feel bad for the way she's been treating you the past hour, but you're so hard headed.

she realizes that the task of putting a tire on a car must be difficult to someone who wasn't taught at a ripe age and decides to be easy on you for a minute.

"c'mere baby." she coos, spilling the lug nuts onto the floor beside her to pull your sweaty body into her arms despite your attempt to fight her off.

"it's hot ellie, get off me." she doesn't budge, only placing kisses to various parts of your face with obnoxious 'mwah' noises.

"i'm sorry for being mean. you're doing great."

"no i'm not. you don't have to lie to me." you shrug. you give in and wrap your arms around her waist, dropping your head against her chest tiredly.

"yeah you suck at this." ellie laughs as you try and wiggle out of her hug at her comment. she tightens her arms around you putting you in an inescapable position that makes you laugh alongside her.

"can we take a break?" your girlfriend glances down at your seemingly heavy eyes that fall closed every other minute and nods her head.

"yeah, c'mon, let's go get something to eat."

ellie has no idea that this is the last time you'll see that tire because you are not coming back out.

#I JUST SAW RHIS IM SO BAD AT CHECKING MY NOTIFS #SOOOO GOOD #other works #ellie recs

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scandalcus · 5 months

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thinking about vampire!reader and leon…

leon had always been so accepting of your...affliction. wanting to be the helpful and supportive boyfriend, he always offered himself up when it had been awhile since you last fed.

this time however he had a mischievous glint in his pretty blue eyes.

he thought back to one of your conversations where you talked about your human life and you mentioned you had somewhat of a sweet tooth.

needless to say you were confused when leon excused himself during one of your many heavy makeout sessions to grab a jar of honey. his shirt had already been removed long ago, his neck already peppered with hickeys. “honey?” you question.

“just thought you might like a sweet treat.” the hint of submission in his voice ignited the familiar unbearable thirst in your throat, a burning sensation that needed to be put out. leon unscrewed the lid on the jar before dipping his fingers in the honey and letting it drip along his neck and down his chest.

your gaze locked with his, your fangs elongating as the unbearable thirst burned your throat. you pull him close with a possessive grip, your lips grazing along the trail of honey on his neck, the taste of his flesh mixing with the sweetness of the honey. as your fangs sank into the delicate flesh of his skin, you close your eyes as you reveled in the taste of the honey mixed with the sweet taste of his blood.

leon was always such a sweet boy, maybe that’s why he always tasted so sweet—even without the honey.

definitely inspired by this post and wanted to write something for leon and vampire!reader (really cute art btw!!)

#i’m craving honey now #so good #other works #leon recs

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scandalcus · 6 months

Note

the way spotify exposed us that this is literally our song

you my orange soda shorty 😏

#the way i just saw this anyways #inbox

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scandalcus · 6 months

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⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ ON A PILLOW OF

GRASS AND DANDELIONS ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

astarion ancunin x fem!reader

summary: you and astarion take much-needed time to yourselves in a field kissed by the sun. blueberries are the fruit of the occassion, as messy and sticky as they were. sometimes though, messy a good thing.

warnings: 18+, smut, oral, ejaculation, deep-throating (??), a bit of nipple play if you squint hard enough, astarion's very vocal ( i don't make the rules ), astarion licks fruit juice off reader's chest, slight worshipping, not proof-read

a/n: wrote this at two am with a foggy mind and rusty smut skills. but alas, here's a small gift of an idea that refused to leave me. now, i can rest easily, bless.

The sun - a ball of fire in the abyss of the sky - is the brightest star. It burns the surface of your skin in vibrant rays of light, warming you from the inside; and setting you aflame. It wasn’t a foreign feeling, just one you learned to appreciate in the years you’ve been on this plane, a hug without drastic intentions, a heated embrace. Aside from the fruit in your hand; cobalt in color, soft-skinned, ripe, and dripping sour juices. It pools on the surface of your tongue alongside sugary essence once the sharp ridges of teeth puncture through; mixing in with warm spit, tricking down the chin and onto the expanse of your chest, loose, low-cut blouse leaving little to the imagination.

The feeling you get from it is almost erotic, you think, as your lover laps at stray sweetness making its way to the base of your neck, right under the spot he adored so very much. The wet muscle of his tongue skims across your collarbone, his long, cold fingers hovering above your hip, the other keeping himself steady, hand sinking into the softness of the sheet below. His touches give off a certain urgency although his actions show otherwise. Astarion wants to take his time with you; albeit having seemingly all the time in existence to do so.

A sigh escapes your lips involuntarily, airy as the hairs on your arms raise every millisecond that his body inches closer to yours, craving skin-to-skin through the thin layers of fabric. It causes you to straighten your spine, almost as if you were a stick wedged in damp soil, letting it mold further into you, keeping your soul in place. Every single bone within you was practically screaming. They didn’t mind being constricted like this, a small jumble of voices bouncing back and forth.

It made you chuckle, a sound that had him humming against your skin in curiosity. “What’s so funny, my love?”

Smiling, you lock your irises onto a cluster of stray curls above you, hand moving to twist around them - an action that makes him visibly shiver.

“I’m supposed to be feeding you.”

With a raise of his head, you could see just how big his pupils had dilated, ruby eyes just a shade or two darker than usual. His low-lidded gaze traveled down toward the valley of your chest, a purple tint left in streaks adorning your collarbone; evidence of his affection. “Are you not already?”

You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth as you shuffle about next to him on your side, propping your chin on the palm of your hand, elbow digging into the ground beneath the white linen of the sheet. “No, you’re far too busy being a tease.”

At your words, he chuckled, face dropping to the left side of your neck with such swiftness that you raised your hips further into his at the feeling of plump lips on your pulse point. Although you couldn’t see him anymore, the way his fingers squeezed at your clothed hip told you everything you needed to know.

“If you wanted me to bite you, all you had to do was ask.”

A breathy sigh left your lips, nails moving from his silver curls down to his back, his tunic wrinkling under your touch, preventing him from escaping. Hot white heat pooled in your lower stomach; a longing to have him touch you in your most intimate of places - desperately. Desire envelops you whole, just like the sparkle of the sun.

“Please Astarion….”

Shivering at the coolness of his lips against your neck, your face grew hot in sudden embarrassment. The organ that was your heart hammered erratically in your sternum as he sucked on your flesh, setting your skin ablaze in a way where it was somewhat painful… a delectable pinch as his fangs pierced the skin.

Astarion was no stranger to drinking your lifeblood, and the act itself wasn’t a rare occurrence. He enjoyed it - no, he craved it as if it were the finest, most expensive brand of wine he had ever tasted in all his years. It satiated

His cheeks hallowed as he sucked once - twice more before pulling away, thumbing at the corner of his lip before parting his lips, tucking his bloody thumb into the heat of his mouth. “Delicious…”

Astarion was sure that his body had started to relax as your blood flowed through his veins, sloshing around in the confines of his belly as if he were a drunkard.

The ridges of your front teeth sunk into the pillowed flesh of your bottom lip, and you watched cautiously as he toyed with the edges of his tunic, lifting it to his naval. Slight hesitation embedded itself in his hands before he flexed them a bit, ridding himself of the fabric completely. Despite having been bare in front of you countless times - even if not fully on display, he found himself growing somewhat small under your fixated look, opting to stand and plop himself in a bed of grass a couple of feet away.

He extended his arms outward, blades of deep green tickling his knuckles, creating an itch that he refused to scratch. Filling his mouth with fresh air, his chest rose before deflating, the hairs in his nose burning. “Sometimes, I forget how to breathe.”

Lashes fan against his skin as he closes his eyes, his undead lungs trying to find a comfortable rhythm, steady. You can’t help but admire him from your place, eyebrows unfurrowing from their constant state of distress.

The light had moved in his direction, clouds changing their position to make way as it shone down on his figure, drawn to him like magnets to metal. It casts shadows on his face, carving out every gentle dip of his abs, the flexing of his biceps as he raises a hand in front of his face, blocking his vision from the viciousness of it all. Instead of irritation filling his undead heart, it was a foreign sense of calamity. A feeling that he held dear for as long as it lingered.

“This feels nice.”

His ears perk at the sound of your feet crunching grass, alongside the periodic chirping of birds perched on enormous tree branches above. A gust of wind weaved through tendrils of curls, seeping into his scalp, metaphorically dousing him in cold water. For a second, he indulged in the thought of bathing in a nearby lake wherever camp was set up for the night, taking his time to let it take over every inch of his body.

A clench of his stomach muscles sends his eyes shooting open, neck craning to stare down at your hand traveling down the ‘v’ of his naval, tracing patterns on the way. Your unexpected compliment was nothing but a whisper in the wind that made the tips of his ears grow as red as his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” Leaning down between his wide legs, your sticky lips graced his icy skin, sending a jolt of heat through him, a gasp caught in his throat as you painstakingly peppered his abdomen in an abundance of kisses.

Astarion was by no means ashamed when it came to eliciting pretty noises in response to your touch; need apparent in the way his head fell back, cushioned by grass and a halo of dandelions, his adams apple bobbing as your fingers hooked in the waistband of his pants.

“Let me worship you Astarion. You deserve to be tasted.”

He propped himself on an elbow, staring down at you with an expression that could only be described as that of some sort of challenge at your request, his unoccupied hand stretching out to grip your chin loosely in his hands, fingers tapping on the fullness of your cheeks. “Needy little thing.”

The low tone of his voice caused you to rub your thighs together, trying to soothe the developing ache between them, a feeling you knew wouldn’t go away unless he helped you - until he conjured every single facet of his love and adoration for you to the tips of his fingers. “Who am I to refuse my love’s desires?”

Loosening his grip on your face, he allowed you to tug at the fabric of his pants, lifting his hips slightly as you shed them off of him completely, fingers dancing up his thighs, eyes greedily taking in his cock that lay hard before you, slightly curved and sensitive. His tip glistened with wetness that formed a waterfall of saliva in your mouth to coat him with.

It practically begged for attention, some sort of relief that you were more than willing to give by darting out your tongue, bobbing your head down his length, and taking him down your throat as far as you could.

Through spit-covered teeth, Astarion hissed lightly as you palmed him gently, the extra layers of skin doing little to help him catch his breath. It stretched at every tug of your hand, at every bob of your head as you took him further in your mouth, cheeks hollow and mouth wet, shining under mustard yellow hues from the surrounding landscape of the hidden field.

He was fucking perfect lying beneath you like this, devoid of any sharp remarks, and scandalous comments - just a blubbering mess. A man formed by all things precious, and a subtle sort of stunning.

“Gods, just like that, pet.” He bucked his hips upward, hitting the back of your throat so violently that you gagged, an encouraging hum causing his cock to throb in the expanse of your warm mouth.

He could stay here forever, your lips closed around him, cheeks stained with tears, fingers from your other hand tracing figure eights on his pubic bone to occupy yourself further with pleasing him. Even with a brain filled with endless fog, the pale elf couldn’t recount the last time you had sucked him as if your entire existence depended solely on his pleasure.

Hell, he wasn’t complaining at all. The noises escaping his esophagus were more than enough proof, and you were more than happy to make it known.

You swirled your tongue around his tip, gathering the taste of him, pubic hairs tickling your nostrils as the tip of your nose made contact with the base of his shaft. His lower stomach couldn’t help but clench tightly, only contracting when your lips widened, jaw slacking as you quickened your pace.

White heat coiled in his stomach, a sensation so euphoric to him that his back arched slightly, brows furrowing, a chorus of broken, muffled cries leaving his parted lips. He released his seed, spurting his arousal down your throat, something you swallowed without hesitation as you pulled away from him.

Finding the strength to open his eyes, Astarion narrowed them at the white puff of clouds painting the sky above through vibrant leaves, a tingle vibrating throughout his body as you straddled his hips, rocking against him gently as he peaked at you. “Isn’t there something else you crave?”

The flesh of your mouth meets his pointed ear and his spine grows rigid, then he shudders in anticipation, in desire. His hands are under your blouse before you can utter anything else, following the dip of your lower back as you press yourself against him.

“I want to be inside of you.”

There it was.

The seven words you’ve been wanting to hear ever since he took your hand and whisked you away into the horizon, a basket full of berries that currently sat discarded somewhere around the crumpled blanket, rotting away in the heat.

“I’d rip this off of you if you’d let me.” He whispered, thumbing at your shirt, hair tousled and out of its usual format of precise placement.

He looked like heaven. He tasted like heaven. He felt like heaven.

It was a mantra that you repeated in your head as he discarded the shirt that covered the swell of your breasts, nipples perking when he pinched them between his fingers, taking one of them in his mouth almost immediately after as if he were still famished.

Fidgeting with the ends of your long skirt, you bunched the fabric up your thighs, fingers disappearing under the material to move your soaked underwear to the side, throbbing with need. “You know I would if the circumstances were different.”

Ah, yes, the fact that you two were fucking like rabbits out in the open. A thrill that never ceased to make your heart beat quickly no matter how many times you both found yourselves in this position.

“Yet you’re letting me take you in broad daylight.”

It was hard not to smile at that.

After all, he did have a point.

tags: @tallymonster, @astariongf, @scandalcus

#YEAHHHHH let’s get into it #astarion recs #other works

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scandalcus · 6 months

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3 am - Leon S Kennedy.

i don’t really know what this is? i was listening to mitski one night and i bet you all know how the rest of that goes.

warnings: angst, mentions of trauma, kind of fluff? i guess? it’s not smut that’s for sure. not proofread and with all of my stuff i just want to say my account is 18+ only mdni!!

word count: 1217 words

pairing: leon x gn!reader

(a/n) sooooo this is kinda my first writing post on this new account and I just want to say hi, if you’re new here…hi hello. I used to write for tlou on my old blog (rxllingstones)! i honestly didn’t know how to end this so it feels a bit rushed but anyways, enjoy!

You open your eyes to the dark bedroom you shared with your boyfriend, trying to mentally prepare for what the rest of the night is going to entail. Shifting your spot on the bed to face him, you find Leon lying there—already awake. His drained expression conveyed that he had been having nightmares. His body language told you that he had been lying awake for a while, and you knew that you had to do something to make him feel better. You reached out to him, your hand gently gracing his arm."Leon?" Your voice was barely above a whisper but it was enough to draw his attention towards you. His expression had already softened slightly.

"Yeah?" His voice was shaky like he was trying to hold back tears. Instinctively, you bring your hand up to his cheek to comfort him, your thumb rubbing small circles along the soft skin. "Had a nightmare?" You ask even though you already know the answer. He nodded sheepishly before sitting up on the bed. His head fell in his hands as he tried to hold back tears desperately. He was so tired of crying about the same. Exact. Thing. Over and over again. He felt as if he was only allowed to talk about the matter a certain amount of times, and once he reached that quota he had to just keep it to himself the best he could. You stay quiet, letting him take his time to process whatever he wants to say next.

After a few moments, he speaks. "I just keep thinking about that night," he says, his voice breaking as he struggles to keep the tears from coming.

"I'm sorry." You were able to hear through his mumbles. Those words broke your heart. "Baby, you never have to apologize for being upset..." You try to soothe even though you know the two of you are going to go into your usual pattern when he wakes up in the middle of the night. He wakes up from a nightmare, he feels guilty about it, you comfort him and the whole thing starts up again a few days later. Looking at the clock on the nightstand it read:

3:23 am

You sit up on the bed as well so you can rub small circles along his back, the gesture easing him into your embrace. Leon leaned his head against your shoulder as you rubbed his back before completely face-planting into your lap, adjusting himself so he could get comfortable in this new position. You felt a sense of comfort as you watched Leon settle into your lap, content to be in your embrace. You enjoyed the feeling of being needed and appreciated, and you were glad to be able to give him the comfort and security he needed.

He always looks so small like this, no matter his size or stature, he looks almost petite. You bring your hand up to caress his cheek and wipe away any leftover stray tears. "I'm here baby, let it out..."

You just held him. His golden locks were entangled in your fingers as his head rested in your lap. You watched as his muscular form shook, Leon's sobs being muffled by the fabric of your checkered pajama pants. You felt yourself tearing up, your heart aching for him. The sight of him breaking down like this was enough for you to feel just a little bit of his pain. The ice-cold emptiness eating away at your heart, the feeling nearly suffocating.

You wanted to comfort him, to make him feel better, to make him know that he wasn't alone. You wanted to tell him that everything was going to be alright, but you couldn't. So you held him, in silence, feeling the warmth of his tears and body against your own. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you in as if you are the only thing keeping him afloat. He would just sink and disappear if his arms weren't around you like a life preserver.

Leon shifts slightly so he can face you, his icy blue eyes showing signs of exhaustion. "It's just... I can't escape it, you know? The screams, the chaos, the feeling of helplessness." His voice trembled with the rawness of his emotions. "I'm just so scared that I'm going to lose everything."

"If you're not scared, you're not human." Your words hang in the air for a moment and they couldn't be more true. After Leon encountered those soulless monsters again and again in different forms, it was nice to be reminded that although these feelings are awful, they're a reminder that he's still alive. He's still somewhat himself. Leon clutched onto your words like a lifeline, desperate for the reassurance that you were truly here for him. Your soothing touch and comforting words echoed in his mind, pushing back the darkness that threatened to consume him. "I'm not going anywhere."

In that moment, he allowed himself to believe in the words you spoke. He found solace in the bond you shared, in the unconditional love you offered.

Letting out a shaky sigh, his arms leave your side and his hand finds its way to yours, intertwining his fingers with yours in a silent gesture of trust. "You always know the right things to say to get me to relax," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I promise you that I'll do everything I can to make sure you're safe and that what happened in Raccoon City never happens again." His grip on your hand tightened slightly as if clinging to you as an anchor in the storm.

Your eyebrows stitch together in a concerned expression, your free hand still messing with Leon's blond strands of hair to try and soothe him. You can hear determination and fear in his voice as he speaks. "I know, angel, I know..." was the only thing you could say in response. Life is unpredictable and you can't change fate, but the way Leon was speaking with his voice full of vindictiveness, you can almost believe him too. "Now, how can I get you to relax, hmm?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Leon's lips as he gazed up at you, his eyes still moist from his earlier tears. He appreciated your understanding; it meant the world to him to have someone who truly comprehended the fear and pain he had experienced.

He sighed softly, his body finally beginning to relax against your comforting touch. "Well, cuddling always seems to do the trick," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness, attempting to lighten the heavy mood. Leon shifted position, allowing you to maneuver more comfortably beside him and you couldn't help but crack a slight smile at his change in demeanor, feeling an odd sense of pride wash over you. It was nice to know that Leon was going to be able to have a good night's sleep now thanks to you. These restless nights usually end up bringing the two of you together, making him strong enough to face another day of the everyday horrors he has to deal with. He feels that he could face any monster that comes his way with you by his side.

dividers by the lovely @cafekitsune <33

#MY BABY #other works #leon recs

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scandalcus · 6 months

Note

am i weird for thinking nerdy loser!abby may have a breeding kink?

you’re not weird. It would fr be like an achievement-unlocked moment for her i apologise for this mess

She’s so into it. Her shaky hands are slowly running up and down your stomach, stopping at certain ridges to trace them with her fingers, whispering under her breath how beautiful you are, completely forgetting that she’s got her strap so deep in your cunt as she admires you. She knows she can’t feel it but there are moments where she is so sure she can feel how your walls clench around the silicone, how your cunt practically sucks her back in when she moves to pull out.

How is she supposed to act sane when you’ve got your hands on her shoulders, you’re whimpering utter nonsense into her neck, and pleading her for more with such a broken voice that she’s glad her head is so close to your mouth or she would have missed it completely.

The pace of her movements is more brutal now than when she had your face down on the pillows, hands gripping the sheets, and tears running down your face. She’s everywhere. Her hips are hitting the plush of your ass with such force, meanwhile, she’s got one hand gripping your hip and the other is between your legs, rubbing tight circles on your clit relentlessly. Abby is like a woman starved, the first time she ever made you cum, she wanted to do it over and over. She loved the look on your face, the way your eyes rolled back, the way your legs twitched around her head and the pretty sounds you let out.

Loose strands of blonde hair fall over her shoulder and lightly tickle your back as she digs her blunt finger nails into your skin, and she can’t help herself as her head drops and she’s just watching the way the silicone moves in and out of you. Her face flushes at the sight of you cunt, her forehead sticky with sweat but nothing can force her to take her eyes of you.

“Abs s’too much!” you whimper into the pillows, your hands coming up quickly to hold onto the arm she had on your hip. “oh— Abby please”

“You can take it baby, please, for me— shit”

Abby is always gentle— soft with you even, making sure she’s not holding you too hard, that you’re not in any uncomfortable position, and that you’re okay all of the time but hearing the squelching sound of your cunt and the way your walls flutter around her strap is sending her brain into overdrive. And just watching the way you’re taking her strap so perfectly has her losing her mind and she’s barely able to hold back anymore.

“Pussy’s mine yeah? gonna let me fill you up and make you a mama? fuck— need to fill up your pretty pussy, baby. You’d make such a pretty mama. Need it so bad, will you let me, please baby?”

#oOHHYYhh #other works #abby recs

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scandalcus · 6 months

Text

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ SINNED SOIL ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

astarion ancunin x gn!reader

summary: after a restless night, astarion finds himself seeking comfort. your tent is where he finds it.

warnings: some angst?? a little fluff, not proof-read

a/n: this is my first one-shot for bg3, and i'm lowkey excited?? not as familiar with the game as i'd like to be ( on my first unfinished playthrough ) so bare with me

There’s a nagging in the crevices of the fluid that occupies Astarion’s skull; aside from the tadpole wriggling about - making home directly in his frontal lobe. He tightens his jaw, grinding his teeth together so harshly that he could feel his spine reverberate in the process; a small pinch near his salivary gland.

This is a recurrence- something he hates dearly with his non-existent soul; thinking. Even though his heart no longer thrummed in his chest, the air was long gone from his lungs, and cold permanently tainting his body, he still had his thoughts.

More often than not, that bothered him severely. No, it tortured him as he lay mindlessly blinking in the darkness of his tent, arms pin-straight by his side, lips pressed together to keep from wobbling slightly.

He supposes he could cry, albeit having to be silent about it. Astarion’s done it before; in the musky abyss in one of Cazador’s many dungeons underneath his luxurious castle of torment, but it’s difficult tonight. Clenching his left fist, he felt the blood drain from his knuckles as the even ridges of his fingernails indent his frigid palm, the muscle of his tongue darting out between his teeth to graze over chapped lips.

Through the silence that seemed to suffocate him slowly, his pointy ears perked at the constant chirping of crickets and the crackling of the firewood a few feet away from his bedroll. Astarion was coming to realize that those sounds sounded oddly serene; nature. The grass, the moon, the sun. Oh, how warm it had felt on his marble skin. A nice low heat to the teeth-chattering ice that sat dormant in his veins. He could practically bathe in it, arms outstretched toward the big ball of fire in the sky, trickles of light seeping through his pores, heating every fiber of his being.

It basked his figure in a glow so bright and fuzzy that Astarion swore his dead heart actually skipped quite a few beats, a low buzz in his sternum. He cherished it.

It was something he would never utter aloud, his sharp tongue suddenly dulling when he felt his gaze soften during interactions, a subtle but noticeable change in his mood he always tries to mask with his cracking facade. Vulnerability did not look good on him as much as his prized tunics did.

Letting a sigh seep out into the chilled night air through glossy, spit-covered teeth, Astarion shuffled within the comfort of his bedroll, his bones cracking slightly as he rose to his knees slowly. Blinking back the burn developing in his sockets, he lifted an index finger to wipe at his hooded lids, sharp canines puncturing a pillowed bottom lip.

Secretly, he hoped that no one would be able to tell how stressful he’s been lately, especially you. You could always read people like an open book; a story laid bare before you - cut and dry and easy to decipher. It didn’t take much for you to come to simple conclusions in dire situations of need. Everyone else in your small group could attest to that with blind faith.

That was something that made the pale elf roll his eyes in slight distaste, as if your actions were something that inconvenienced him severely, as if everything you said was something he was supposed to agree with. But, you weren’t like that.

Astarion figured that out under the glow of the moonlight, hidden by thick tree branches and surrounded by the overwhelming smell of dewed grass merely a month ago, back when his attempts to bed you were more than apparent. His brows had furrowed in confusion then, a small pang in his chest as if the knife lodged within the tissue of his heart was dipped in poison. He was confused. For the first time in a while the elf was confused as to why you didn’t take him as you saw fit that night.

Closing his eyes, Astarion took a wasteful breath, feeling as if it was needed in the moment as his lashes brushed against the blotches of watercolor black, blue and purple that adorned his under eyes, hand reached out to swat away the flap of his tent soon after.

Crimson eyes darted to look through the treelines, a sense of alert flooding through his body as leaves rubbed together, sounding like crumpled parchment as he averted his gaze to Karlach’s back, her nightwear frumpled as she hunched over, sharpening one of the many weapons laid out on the soil next to her; dirty and dull.

Shuffling past her as quietly as he could, Astarion blew air from between his lips in hopes of adjusting the snowy white coil of hair that blocked his vision, making his way to your tent. A certain hunger arose in him when his pointed ears picked up the sound of your blood flowing through thick veins, sweet like the rolls you’d occasionally bring to the camp from a nearby trader if they had a few.

His throat is dry, the thirst for your blood creeping up on him just like the soft spot for you had after you had confided in him after accidentally bearing witness to the angry scars that littered the expanse of his back, a constant itch to follow the raised skin. He knew you wouldn’t refuse his request to drink from you, having let him sink his teeth into the pulse point of your neck multiple times to keep his hunger at bay.

Nocturnal animals didn’t satiate his cravings as much as your essence did. It was a pull stronger than he ever thought possible, even if his belly was full - he was not, not until he had your sweet, sweet blood pooling at the tip of his tongue. Instinctively, his upper lip curled, teeth bared before he swiped the muscle of his tongue over them, swallowing the sandpaper that covered his esophagus.

“‘Starion?” Your small whisper carried in the wind, straight to his ears.

Within the thin fabric of your tent, he could hear you shuffling about before your head peaked out from the open flap, eyes still ridden with sleep looking up at his towering frame through long lashes. “What are you doing?”

“Restless night.”

At that, your brows furrowed, warm, clammy palm cupping his; an invitation inside your private space which he accepted without another word.

In the darkness, he could make out the array of worn out pillows covering every inch of the small space, alongside a couple of different items from past journeys and small trinkets that reminded you of your childhood; innocence lost. He figured it was something you were trying to gain back - a sense of control over your dysfunctional life.

Crouching down, his knees ached slightly, palms flat against the ground before making himself as comfortable as he possibly could given thoughts plaguing his mind. With narrowed eyes, he watched as you spun on your bottom to face him, knees knocking with his as you pressed your lips together thinly.

“I must admit I'm struggling to find peace tonight as well.” Mumbling, your hand raised to smooth over the goosebumps that had found their way to the surface of your arms, raising every individual hair. “Dreams become much too vivid to me now.”

Leaning as far back into the pile of pillows as he could, he could see your eyes, glossy and wide as they locked onto his. “Do tell, darling.”

His tone is slightly playful, a small inch of concern weaved between his words as his spine stiffened from his position.

Huffing, your shoulders lifted in a small shrug before falling back into place, ears growing hot from the embarrassment oozing through your pores. You weren’t one to confide in others about your state of distress, especially to those who you deem untrustworthy.

This was merely a Freudian slip, a loose tongue, but you continued despite everything in you telling you to sew your lips closed with thick thread.

“There was this… looming sense of dread in my dreams. I was in a field of tall grass, it reminded me of this meadow my father used to take me to when I was ten and one.” Your voice trailed, the scenery of a multitude of flowers and lucious, bright green grass appearing in the forefront of your mind. “I can still smell the manure of the nearby pigpens, but everything was just so bleak. I’m sure I was alone, and even though I somehow knew it wasn’t real, everything else felt like it was. There was a red rose sitting in a bed of white ones, almost as if it was being cushioned just for me.” He could hear the smile in your words, although from the tone of your voice, he could tell that it wasn’t a genuine one.

“I reached out toward it, and then felt a slight pinch almost as if something poked me.” rubbing the pads of your thumb and index finger together, you stared at them, expecting a trickle of dotted blood to seep from the barely visible wound you had received in the meadow in the crevices of your mind. “It was a thorn, a big one at that. That’s when I woke up, and then I saw your shadow outside…”

The pause that followed was one of comfort, a way for you to know that the vampire before you was listening, grasping onto each word uttered through chapped lips, your warm breath on his face.

Astarion gnawed on his bottom lip gently, careful of his two sharper teeth as his gaze never left your troubled face, a twinge of empathy. “I have those dreams sometimes too. When I let my eyes drift shut, there’s a sort of vulnerability that follows; renders me defenseless.”

You nodded in the darkness, grasping onto the words that he forced out of his throat like bile, unwanted and already digested. Astarion was a secretive person, for many reasons that were acceptable, drenched in endless pain and suffering. “My skin still burns. It’s all so fresh.”

Scooting beside him, you cautiously took notice of the way he curled into himself, knees now tucked into his chest as he raised a hand toward his back, sliding it under his shirt to let his fingers ghost over the scars on his back. The muscles in his face contort, a pained expression painting his face, no developing laughter lines, no crows feet at the corners of his eyes. He was forever a little star; his name a memory of a past he can’t recall.

“He can no longer touch you.” You stated firmly, each word spat with venom. It was true as far as you were concerned. You’d never lie to Astarion. You’d never lie to any of your friends about the impending death that loomed over them, the blood that would be on their hands in the following weeks as you continue your trek to Baldur’s Gate.

“You’d think after being a slave for nearly three centuries that I'd bask in the glory that freedom has to offer me.” A curt, bitter laugh escapes his lips as he throws his hands in the air, “But I-I can’t, and I have no idea why.”

Twisting your neck just a couple of inches, you stared at the side of his face, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

Astarion could hear how loudly your heart thumped in the solace of your ribcage, the blood flowing through your veins, the quiet hum of your throat as you swallowed. And for once - he wills himself to think about life without his affliction, even if just for a second before he could no longer stand to see himself so meek and small, so… helpless.

“It’s the fear he instilled within you. He tormented you your entire existence and it’s not something you can let go of so easily, I un-”

“Please don’t tell me you understand.” His words were nothing above a whisper as he leaned closer, the material of his sleep shirt rubbing against yours before you felt the chill of his skin on your upper arm.

In those rare moments of genuine words exchanged between the both of you in the safety of each other's company, you had never seen him so fearful. Fearful of becoming a slave for the desires and sexual needs of others once more, hands forever touching bodies he’d force himself to forget, washing the dirt and grime off of every crevice of himself with tears in his eyes and silent sobs. “I’ll never return to that, to him.”

“I won’t let that happen. You’re more than what he created you to be.”

Hesitantly, you wrapped an arm around his shoulder, causing his spine to grow rigid for the third time it seemed, before he melted under your touch, soft curls tickling the skin under your jaw before he buried his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of lavender and pine wood that always seemed to be glued to you. It wasn’t the first time you’ve touched Astarion like this, in an intimate way, without the premise of sex in the foreground, but this time felt different.

It was different.

You were more soft than he realized, weren’t you? Astarion thought himself to be nothing concerning a warm-hearted, selfless individual. He was anything but. Bred for destruction and submission, bloodletted countless times through frantic and harsh whips, lashes - anything that could make the smell of his coppery perfume permeate the air.

However, for once in his eternal existence Astarion realized he felt something that had grown foreign to him; love.

Love for you.

Love for himself.

And he’d be damned if the sinned soil of this earth took any of that away from him.

#THIS IS SO GOOD #other works #astarion recs

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