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pursuitseternal · 4 months

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“Wrap Me Up:” 🎀 A Merry (NSFW) for the Vampire Lord Astarion, “The Rogue You Were” Christmas Special 🕯️

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 5.6K of thawing his “Scrooge-ish” heart with bondage and ice play

Based on “A Christmas Carol,” because Astarion would be a total “Scrooge”

Part 2: “Yuletide in Faerûn”

Summary: He hates Yuletide, a time where he is haunted by the ghosts of Yuletides past, but you won’t let him remain so cold, not when all he needs is a little warmth and pleasure to thaw…

CW: Bondage, Ice Play, temperature play, Dom/sub tones, face fucking, nipple play, breast biting, blood kink, sex as healing, face the ghost of Yuletide past, make him look towards the ghosts of Yuletide present and future with you

AO3 link | Read “Rogue You Were” | Masterist

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Cazador was dead to begin with…. His palace redone, reclaimed by your love, your master. No longer some distasteful, neglected home of a miser and monster. It is the toast of Baldur’s Gate, the lavish, decadent crowning jewel of the city, and home to the man all admired and feared. Astarion, Vampire Ascendant.

Your love. Your Master. Your spouse.

But even still, as the streets of the city filled with snow, wet and heavy from the sea, as the air filled with the sights and sounds and smells of Yuletide, your home remained cheerless.

Cazador was dead, and so was the infamous Yule Ball he hosted in his decrepit halls—forbidden by its new lord and master. Astarion had no wish to carry on any of that monster’s legacy. A gala event meant to make his spawn work all the harder for victims at the risk of torture… a night of sumptuous darkness, where victims were aplenty, a prize for their master.

And so… Yuletide was banished. Halls were bright, but no more shining than usual. No evergreens or music or mirth. No gatherings or carols or banquets or dances.

And no… gifts. Those were his orders.

Orders that you understand, but ones that make you grieved. That make you wish to show him the true meaning of Yuletide. And you will show him tonight. To do so, you have been sneaky, subtle, deceptive. And above all… disobedient. But that only makes this plot of yours all the more delicious.

He’s been away all day, corrupting officials and threatening the right people. Turning the powerful into puppets, ensuring everyone pays their tribute to the most powerful being in all the realms. In fact, you think as you begin to peer out the window looking down into the drive, banks of snow scattered to the side and torches flaming to await the master’s arrival, he has been extraordinarily ruthless of late. These last weeks leading into Yuletide, he’s been extorting more money, squeezing favor after favor from the influential, securing all the wealth he could to line his own coffers. And all the while, he grinned that brilliant fang-toothed smile, laughing to be such a menace before the festivities.

Little did he know what you are doing in his absence. Your little secret.

It wasn’t easy to keep. You had to block out his mind, the little ways he liked to check on you from a distance, swirling into your thoughts down your bonded minds as master and bride. You were careful these last few days. Conveniently sending him only thoughts of how much he pleasures you… his hands gripping your ass, his fangs in your throat, his cock shoved to the hilt between your thighs or down your throat, the slick feeling of his cum or its rich and bitter tang….

And once he was satisfied, his presence would leave you, back to your own devices.

Even when he was home of late, he spent much of his time in the treasure vaults, counting and recounting your wealth… until he wandered back to your bed for sweet words of praise and pride in your victories… and for all the carnal ways he loved to consolidate that power with you.

And so, you were free to continue your little plan. You are free to complete your plan.

The eve before Yuletide, and you place a few finishing touches around the library. His favorite place. Not only because he was fond of books, but it is a room all of his own creation. A room free from the ghosts of Cazador’s abuse and violence.

A room all his own.

And now, you made it… festive. The air smells of fresh evergreen and holly, spiced rum punch and sugared sweets, candle smoke and… him. Of citrus and rosemary, that makes your mouth and your cunt wet. Your eyes peer out from the slit in the curtains, watching the snowdrifts billow up in the wind and weather, more flakes of white falling heavy in the night. All that soft, fresh fallen snow muffles the rattle of Astarion’s carriage as it glides up the drive.

Your heart leaps, your hand pulling the curtain back, making sure the light illumines behind you. Making sure he sees you wait for his return, his most beloved spawn in his most beloved room.

He is like shadow incarnate, his black cloak wrapped tightly around his body as it still flaps in the icy winds. Those crimson eyes catch your figure, backlit by the glow within, intrigued, suspicious, his smirking grin makes your quiver, even at this distance.

“Little love… whatever could you be up to?” His voice caresses your mind, sultry and purring to warm your soul.

“Oh, don’t be so cold, my love,” you throw back down the bond of your minds, “why not come and… make yourself warm?”

“Make myself…” he continues to purr even as he strides inside the doors to your palace, “…or permit you to warm me?”

“Come and find out, my darling…”

You can feel his approach, as if you travel as his shadow. Sensing the moment he undoes his clasp, the wet wool of his cloak flopping to the tile. Riding the movement of his legs as he climbs the stairs two at a time. Hearing the sniffs of that aquiline nose that makes a little growl resonate in his throat.

“What have you done?” he hisses into your mind, a pulse of rage and suspicion flaring down your bond.

“It will please you greatly,” you chide in reply, “as long as you overlook my loving disobedience.”

His presence pulls away, only because his hand tears the handle from the library door, the panes of its dark wood flying open to reveal him.

Where he fumes in the entrance.

Crimson eyes glow as he takes in the sight… the fresh scent of spices and sweets and evergreens making his nose turn up in disgust… his gaze scanning from the decorated mantle to the table of sweets, to where you await him near the window.

“My… defiant… little… consort,” he speaks steadily through his grit teeth. “Do you wish to tell me the meaning of all this before I punish you or will it be an extra sweet revelation I pry from you… during…?”

“Or, consider this, my love,” you give him a warm and sultry smile, “you let me, your beloved bride, your treasure, lavish you with some festive joy,” you gesture to the mantle and the table of spiced punch and sweets, “bestow upon you some adoring gifts to show my undying love for you,” you point to the two, small gift wrapped boxes waiting on the table, “and of course some very… merry… entertainment…” You would blush harder if it were possible, your hand tracing down the deep cut of your silken dressing gown. His crimson eyes darkening and dilating as it follows your touch on your own skin.

“You, of all people, my darling should know the dangers involved in tampering with the ghosts of the past that still haunt me…” he crosses the room in what feels like a single bound, his hands closing on your upper arms, his warm touch crushing you against his chest. “You are on some very thin ice… darling. Tread. Very. Carefully.”

“The Rogue I love wouldn’t shy from a fight, even against facing the ghosts that once tormented him,” you smirk up at his enraged face, you can feel his heart racing in a heady mix of emotion, see it throbbing in the veins of his neck. That powerful ascended heart. “Won’t you… at least open my gifts? Let me spoil you for once this Yuletide, as you have never been spoiled before…”

A single brow raises at that. “Well,” he sniffs, tilting his head, eyes falling to the boxes impeccably wrapped before him. “I do rather like being spoiled.” It was a quiet, begrudging sort of acquiescence. “And…” he sighed through his frowning, open mouth, “I suppose you did make a huge effort… even if it was a secret…” he hisses, suddenly giving you that gaze as if you are his next, most delicious meal, “…and disobedient… and deceptive sort of effort for me…”

You smile, such a saccharine look of innocence. “I’m glad you’re beginning to see it, my love.”

His hands fly to your chin, clasping around it before slinking down to claw gently around your neck. “I still expect much from you, darling, to make reparation for your… defiance, as loving as it might be.” You laugh, letting your throat vibrate beneath his touch, as he brings your lips in for a consuming kiss.

However brief.

He presses against your throat, breaking with that dark, conceited grin. “Now, my dearest pet,” he purrs, “impress me with your festive spirit…”

You give him that slightly pouting smile that seems to lower that haze of lust over his eyes. You keep his gaze locked, reaching for the large box,

wrapped in golden paper, tied with golden ribbon. He accepts it into his hands, sifting its weight, shaking it just a touch to feel something hefty sliding inside the container. Then, you see it, almost like the first trickle down an icicle as it starts to melt, the corner of his lips turns just a little higher.

His fingers grip the end of the bow, slowly unraveling it. “What is it?” he asks, a skeptical brow raised.

“The gift to help you chase away the ghost of Yuletide past, my love…” you grin, feeling so confident, so sure of your choices, of your knowledge of him more than he would even admit to his ascended self.

That wins you a twist of those full lips. Those crimson eyes flicker up to yours briefly as his long, dexterous fingers lift open the lid. “Is that a… crown?” pure amusement, voice tickled with the flattery only a perfect gift could give.

You reach your hands in, lifting the metal circlet from its box, the little interwoven strands of dark metal rising into little spikes. “Elegant and vicious,” you hum as you take it between your hands and raise it to rest on his tousle of silver hair. “Just like you, my roguish love.”

“Well if this is your idea of spoiling me with festive cheer…” he raises a brow, turning his head to test out the weight upon his head, “you’re exceeding my expectations.” He turns to the wall behind you, where you have draped boughs of holly leaves and blood red berries around the ornate and gilded mirror on the wall. A fixture in every room now, so he may bask in his own reflection when he wishes. He primps and preens before the glass, turning and twisting to view every angle.

“And I must say, you’ve really captured my power and prestige with something so deadly and…” He pauses lost to the silence as he lavishes in his own reflection, rubbing a finger over the sharpened edges of the points.

You sneak up behind him, where he is lost in his own reflection, that piercing red stare meets yours in the reflection. “A gift, reforged from the past… your old, sadistic master’s dagger, melted down to make you into the sovereign you have always deserved to be…”

He pouts, dramatic and whining and most of all, fake, “A dagger for a crown?” Sighing, he turns quickly to capture you in his arms. “I’ll say, it is the only acceptable repurposing of a blade. You’re lucky I love you so much, if you’re going to be turning my weapons into jewelry…” He presses his lips against your neck, “But even a crown worthy of my handsome head won’t spare you from your own recompense.”

“For my loving disobedience,” you laugh, arching your neck to expose even more of your skin. “And perhaps, you should open your second gift, my love, before you settle on any ideas of exacting such delicious… retribution. Especially now that your chilled heart seems to have thawed.”

“Me?” he rasps into your ear, “cold? Chilled? Cheeky little pup… do you forget that my heart beats now, my skin warmed over as your ascended lord?”

“Hmmmm,” you sigh, “why don’t you open that second gift, a little something to help you embrace the spirit of your Yuletide present and future with me, your own… forever…”

“Oh,” he smirked, wicked and ravenous, “if you’re my gift… and all the many ways I can play with you, I doubt you’ll fit in any little box, darling.” he gave a loud giggle, “but I can imagine how festive you would look… all wrapped up in ribbon…”

You feel his hands wandering over your body, his touch seeping its warmth through the fabric of your dress as he does wrap you in arms and presses you against his unyielding body.

“My little treat, ready to be unwrapped once she’s been very… very… good to me,” he growls in your ear. Shivers racing down your spine as you giggle. Your stomach flips upside down, despite the months of this… of being his, forever. Your body still gives you away with each encounter.

And you grin like a lovesick fool, reaching to the table beside you for that second, smaller package.

He palms its wrapped sides in a single hand, the other remains clutched firmly around your waist with his hand curved hard over the swell of your ass. He smirks, dark and playful, as he bites into the end of the bow and tugs the black silken ribbon apart with those gleaming fangs. The silk slides, no resistance as the bow comes apart in his mouth.

You know that feeling all too well. Of coming apart at the command of those teeth or lips or tongue… You love that feeling. Crave that feeling.

He lets it drop from his teeth to flutter to the floor, a finger flicking open the top of the box to fall to the same fate. Then his brows furrow, he lips drawing in a smile so wide, those perfect teeth glint in the flickering warmth of the firelight.

“My, my…” he purrs, lifting his touch from your backside to fish out the gift within.

It’s coiled, wrapped around itself, this long strand of thick and smooth, a long velvet ribbon, as crimson as his own eyes.

“Perhaps our minds are shared more than the bond formed when you made me, my love,” you taunt, a lilt in your voice as you press into him harder, letting the curves of your breast flatten, the panting of your belly push into his. “Now… are you going to finally let that cold, beating heart of yours be melted by Yuletide warmth?”

He cocks a brow, tilting his crowned head at that rakish angle, hand returning to claw around the base of chin. That free set of eager fingers slipping the gifted ribbon from the box. You gasp as those fingers pull you against his lips. He sucks and caresses with all the hunger that flares under his touch and behind his eyes. “I think I’d rather watch you melt, watch you puddle on my fingers and come when I say, my consort, beloved but also naughty.”

“Sounds like you’re burning to use your gifts, my love…” you growl between his lips. “My lover with the warm touch and the ice in his heart, a bit different than before, my love….” You rake your nails into his hair. “Now I can make you warm all over.”

He chuckles, his grasp easing around your throat, winding to the back of your neck to tilt you open for his tongue all the more. “Sounds like you’re missing that icy touch of your undead rogue, my treasure,” he snaps in return, biting down on your lower lip just enough to draw blood.

“And what are you going to do to remedy that?” you reply, a little moan coloring your voice as his hands begin tearing off your clothes.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he taps his thumb over your swollen lips. “Not a sound, not if you wish to earn my forgiveness, and perhaps receive a little sort of gift of your own in return…” you shudder in his arms, the only reply needed for him to flash you that feral, twisted grin. “Then lay down, my love, and warm yourself by the flames of the fire.”

A hand tugs apart the last laces from your dress, sliding the sleeves from your shoulders. “Oh, and you won’t be needing any of that now…” Your silken gown becomes a silken puddle around your feet. Your skin turns to gooseflesh as he scores his nails down your sides. He snaps his gift, your velvet ribbon, between his hands. “Get comfortable, my treasure, while you still can…”

His gaze scalds you, intensity beyond even your expectations. He is about to enjoy this… and you are too.

He lets you settle on the puddle of furs, the thick white skin of some animal that lines the floor before the fire. Back turned on you, he busies himself at the table of sweets and punch, the clatter of dishes enough to make you smile; he is indulging. You lounge, letting the light flicker over your flesh, letting the fire warm your skin, a cascade of heat over your back and shoulders and ass. One that almost rivals the heat that puddles and pools between your folds.

“Hurry,” you mewl, rubbing your thighs together. “I’m burning for you…”

“Don’t worry, my greedy pet,” he snickers from the table of refreshments, his back to you, purposefully hiding just what he is busying his hands with. You hear the silver spoon stirring the bowl of punch, the clatter of metal and the clacking of ice cubes as he chuckles to himself. “I’m confident there are many ways to cool that lust in your veins, darling.”

He turns slowly, his face leering at you, you see why he has suddenly begun a low rumbling laugh in his chest, a small glass holds a few of the cubes of ice, your velvet ribbon hangs over his wrist, and his eyes glow with that simmering power that crawls beneath his skin. Stalking towards you, you flash him your own fanged smile, running your fingers through the lush fur that cradles your naked form.

Astarion steps over you as you lie on your back, settling down to straddle your belly, making you work for every breath beneath his weight. “Now, for the toughest decision, just what sense to control as your reparation for such a willing… if loving… transgression.” He sets the ice down at his side, the silk of his breeches strained taught with his arousal as he covers you with his body. “Do I take away your sight to awaken all your other senses, do I gag that pretty little mouth of yours to make your screams deeper and richer… or do I bind your hands and make you crave only my touch for your release.”

He trails the soft, fluttering edge of the ribbon up and down your belly, your eyes following it, drawn to the way it makes your gaze flicker to his own straining cock. You snigger, gripping your nails shamelessly into his hips, running them down his thighs hard enough to score his flesh. Stopping only once you cup that erection you crave.

“I guess that seals your fate, my love,” he licks his lips, gripping your offending hands by the wrists to stretch them overhead. The velvet caresses your skin, soft and cool as he snugs it around you, tethering them together and binding them around the leg of the chair nearest you.

It wouldn’t hold you captive, not for real, but this… this was for fun… delightful divertisment to help him rekindle his… festive spirit.

And as he leans over you, satisfied with the work of his skilled fingers to bind your hands above your head, you moan when he slips his legs between yours. Prying you wider, grinding that confined erection against you, the slippery feel of his silken pants soaking with your arousal.

Wet and warm before the fire, every nerve ignites under his attention, flaming with your need to have his skin against yours. “Seems unfair,” you try to whine as your voice ripples more as a whimper, “for me to be so… unwrapped and ready for you to enjoy.”

“You’re going to have to beg and plead more sweetly than that, my darling,” he smirks against your whining mouth, capturing it with his. You taste the burst of flavors on his tongue, the sweet and spices of the punch, his tongue cool in your mouth from having imbibed it.

Just like old times. You shudder and moan to feel it tangle with your own, that flavorful concoction, the tingle of alcohol spiking your senses. “Mmm, delicious,” you moan against his fangs.

“Not as delicious as it will be as I taste you, my pet. Be a good little consort, plead so prettily, and you’ll get everything you desire tonight.” He gives a little extra, hips undulating into your slick, his breeches undoubtably ruined by your arousal. You groan at that ferocity, that untamable hunger. And you, you buck your hips to ride that friction. You give him what he wants, a loud mewl of your pleasure to tickle his punch-coated tongue.

“Very good,” he smirks, raising back to his knees. “I’d ask you to help me…” he taunts, rubbing his hand down the front of his decadently embroidered jacket, slowly letting his buttons free one at a time. “… but you seem already… tied up…”

“Oh, you must be feeling merry to throw such taunting puns at me, my love,” you smile.

“Hush, love,” he grins wickedly, tossing that jacket to the side, the firelight dancing over his ivory skin, rippling over all the rises and ridges of his torso. “Or if you insist on that insolent mouth teasing me, I might just have to find something with which to gag you.”

You smirk, hungry and defiant, as you stick out your tongue. A taunt. And an invitation.

“If you wish,” he growls happily, hands quick to unbutton his breeches. A split second, and he frees that cock, drips of his seed already seeping from its tip. You keep your tongue dangling as he scoots forward straddling your shoulders, until your mouth has nothing more to do than let him in.

With a groan, he thrusts into that familiar wet. Head thrown back, but not so far as to risk that magnificent crown to tumble off. He’s slow, languorous, savoring the way you’ve taken him so well. “Such a good little consort, earning your penance and more…” One hand knots in your hair at the crown of your head, the other you can’t see.

But you hear his movements, that dull clank of ice cubes on glass. And suddenly, you gasp, that frigid cold in his invisible grip, trailing its cold up your thigh. He’s so quick, his face scrutinizing your slacked mouth as he continues to fuck your throat, a twist of total delight on his lips as you shiver.

That is your only warning, the only inkling of his devious intentions before he slips that cube of ice between your folds. His mouth grins so wide, you see every tooth, his pleasure cemented as he thrusts between your moaning lips. Your body fights against his pinning weight. Thrusts begin to accelerate, timed with the swirls of that ice as he circles faster over your clit.

You feel the water beginning to drip, same as your slick, and your body shudders, heated by the fire and his body, frozen between your thighs as he still sweeps the melting ice through your seam.

Wave after wave consumes you, total swept away by the play of hot and cold, the merry dance of ice and fire that crashes through your body. It makes your buck and writhe, panting and choking on his cock between your cheeks. He withdraws a bit to let you savor your pleasure, pouring those praises over you once more, “Perfect, my treasure, coming for me so hard and beautifully.”

He chuckles, stroking his fingers through your long hair, lifting your head for a few really slow, really deep thrusts. Ones that you curve your tongue around and suck hard until you gag.

“Yes…” he growls, taking his cock back in his hand as he withdraws it from your now swollen lips, “good girl, so delicious… I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson of loving disobedience.”

“Savored the fruits of it, more like…” you grin, sultry, desirous, licking your lips clean of his juices that have already snuck out to coat your lips, your tongue.

That ice, so much smaller already, skates up your mound, your belly, settling it in your navel. “Astarion,” you screech as he leaves it there, as the chill settles over where you crave the heat and weight of pelvis, where you wish for him to crush you and fuck you.

“So greedy, little love,” he purrs. “And isn’t I who should be the greedy one? Denied any semblance of Yuletide joy for so long?”

“Then be… greedy… be naughty, and I will be very, very nice,” you giggle, deep in your throat as you watch him sliding down to settle between your burning thighs.

But not before he sneaks another ice cube from the cup. You lose track of it… until he grins with his mouth spread wide, his gleaming teeth biting down on that piece of ice, shining like crystal in the firelight. You shiver in anticipation. Waiting, watching for just what he might do next.

Angling down agonizingly slowly, his eyes lock into yours, his mouth aiming that fragment of ice for your already straining taught nipples. You scream again, bucking and writhing as the cold shoots right through you, racing down your every nerve. He laughs, taking that cube back inside his mouth, swirling that ice-cold tongue now over your flesh, sucking it hard between his lips.

“I will be undone, my love…” you groan, arching under his tongue.

“That’s the point,” he laughs darkly taking out that cube to rub over your other aching nipple as he teases and toys with it, “be undone before you’ll be… unwrapped, my darling.”

It steals your breath, making you writhe and tug against your binds as you feel every shiver down your spine consuming every sensation. Then he sets the ice, nearly gone back in your navel.

Heavy-lidded, Astarion licks his lips, dragging his tongue over his fang, announcing his next desire loud and clear.

“Hungry? Then get to it, greedy love,” you squirm and squeal as he gives a bite on your breast, just enough to bring a little blood to the surface. “Hgnf,” you groan as he drinks from you, those little hums and noises he makes as he feeds bring even more arousal pooling between your thighs.

You feel his cock hardening even more, as if that was possible, the union of your bloods, that tremor down your bond as he feeds from you, chin red with your essence. It makes him grind against your mound, cock twitching, a mind of its own to find that wet and clenching pressure he craves more than anything.

You feel that slow undulation, the tip of his length slipping into your folds, teasing just an inch inside you. The chair above your head scrapes across the floor, the ribbon snapping as you struggle against your binds. “Please,” you beg, “free me. I want you… I need you.”

“And why should I release you early?” he asks, barely raising his head from the pillow of your breast as he still laps at your blood. Eyes closed. As if he is too preoccupied to watch your agony. Even though you feel his smiling lips against your skin. “Just what would you do… if… I set you free?”

“Touch you…” you pant, feeling his cock dipping in and out again, shallowly. But he stills, unsatisfied.

“And?” he goads, slowing his tongue, eyes flickering up briefly at last.

“Cling to those powerful scars on your back, trace them since I know them all…”

Another dip inside your channel, slowly still but deeper as he withdraws equally slow.

“…and?” he smirks, licking his bloodied lips and chin.

You give a laugh, heavy with your need. “Clean your face from my blood, you messy thing…”

“Hmm,” he smirks wider, the lights catching in the red of his eyes as he scans your pale skin, where you pant and squirm beneath him. “Tempting, but…”

“Worship you,” you interrupt, “caress every inch of your ivory skin, grip hard into the clenching power of your ass as you fuck me… finally, run my fingers through your hair to keep that perfect crown on your perfect head…”

His lips twitch just once, a single arm reaching for that ribbon as the velvet release from your wrists. You groan, finally… finally touching him again, your voice rasping in your throat as he sheathes himself in fully. Already he commands a punishing pace, but you are so on fire for him, you crave it. You ride it all, legs wrapped tightly around his hips, your hands clutched into his hair, pinning that crown in place.

A good thing too, his body shaking as he loses all his control. His rhythm is feral and driven, giving no regard to anything other than filling you with his cock and making you burst with his cum. But he watches, arms pressed into the floor as his eyes drink in that sight of you. The way your bosoms sway, coated in his spit and your blood as they glisten in the soft light. The way your eyes lock into his, flickering every now and then to watch the way his pale cock spears harder and harder into you.

You snicker, a wicked idea in your head as you glance to the last cube of ice in the glass. “You wouldn’t dare…” he groans inside your head. But it’s too late. You’ve already snagged that chilling, hard lump, tracing it down the planes of his belly as you reach between you.

“Oh, I would…”

You have to be quick, but he lets you… his flawless reflexes could stop you… if he wants.

But instead he just groans so loudly as you press that ice at the base of his cock. Caressing whatever length of him doesn’t thrust inside as he fucks.

He shivers, his arms shaking as he lowers down on top of you. That crown falls into the furs at your side, but he doesn’t care. His mouth devours yours, his grunts and pants as you bring him to climax deafen you, reverberating inside your mouth.

And as the melting ice drips to your seam, you follow him into that wave of pleasure. Heat and ice, fire and cold blast through your bodies. His thrusts are merciless, slamming hard against the end of your channel, the pain adding to the heady mix that steals your breath and sends his name screaming from your lips.

He stills inside you, your greedy walls squeezing out the last of his cum, working against the twitching pulses of his cock. Resting his hot, damp forehead in the nook of your shoulder, he struggles to catch his breath. Nuzzling closer, you feel his warmth saturating your flesh, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders as he lays on you and in you.

“I… should thank you, my love,” he whispers, that tenderness he saves for your ears alone. “You never give up on me, never allow me to remain trapped, haunted by those ghosts of my past… however tormenting they may be. You have… done more than make my heart to beat again, to teach me how to love again. For centuries, at this time of year… I wanted nothing more than to take one of those stalks of holly and ram it like a stake through… his heart.”

Cazador’s. He won’t say it. Can’t say it.

“But with you, perhaps it is something just the two of us may… enjoy. To savor…”

“My love,” you whisper, placing a kiss into those silken, gleaming silver locks, “you don’t need to use Yuletide as a reason to wrap me up in pretty ribbons.”

“It is rather pretty, isn’t it?” he chuckles as he raises his head, “not as magnificent as this, however…” His hand closes around that metal circlet, replacing it crookedly on his silver hair. On that head made for a crown. “Seems like you’ll need one of your own, my little consort.”

“I’m open to all sorts of gifts from you…” you purr, catching his chin to bring his mouth to yours.

“Perhaps you need me to give it to you again, my darling?” he speaks into your lips. “Another lesson for me in finding the warmth of Yuletide? I might still feel a bit frozen in the heart, if you’re not thorough, you know…”

“Avernus would freeze over before I abandon you to such a fate, gods bless it…” you catch his lips in your mouth, a good long suck in that thick lower one as you nip it gently in your fangs. Tasting the richness of his blood, the thrumming of his power that rides his essence.

“Then gods bless it,” he growls, hand catching tightly around your chin, a slight drag of his still hardened cock inside you, “every time.”

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takiki16 · 4 months

Text

A Fine Chain

UPDATE: Chapter 8/?

Fandom: Jupiter Ascending

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Beta: @gallifreyburning

Relationships: Jupiter Jones/Caine Wise

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Light Dom/sub, Power Imbalance, Royalty, Slavery, Collars, Leashes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Don’t copy to another site, Dark

Summary: Caine Wise, disgraced ex-Skyjacker and convicted criminal, is suddenly inducted into the service of the enigmatic Queen Nea-Seraphi, mysterious new Recurrence and puzzle to the Entitled social circle. While figuring out the boundaries of his new station, worrying about his old commander, and nursing old wounds from his court martial, Caine finds himself slowly being drawn into the confidence of his royal employer. What could Her Majesty possibly want with a defective splice?

In which Caine gets a promotion, an assignment, and a snack - not necessarily in that order - and learns several interesting new things about her Majesty Queen Nea-Seraphi

#Jupiter ascending #Caine wise #Jupiter jones #a fine chain #Jupiter jones/Caine wise #Jupiter/Caine #you guys i am so excited to be writing so much of this again you have nO IDEA #I’m going to rewatch magic mike i think it is Very Important for Authorial Inspiration #the issue with this is that I cannot view this Fine Film with my family on holiday but that is alright i will channel the anticipation

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chuluoyi · 2 months

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𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒐 !

- gojo satoru x reader

valentine's is around the corner and word has it that you're going on a date with geto...? no way! gojo is going to make sure that you're saying no! ever wonder how gojo finally gets you to become his? be prepared for a confession of a lifetime!

genre/warnings. crack, semi-failed love confession (it's gojo, what do you expect?), poor geto, and of course, fluff !!

notes. i genuinely love writing this :') loser gojo has always have a soft spot in my heart *sighs* i'd recommend listening to beautiful & because of you - beast (highlight) for this !!

a part of gojo's love entries and valentine's special !

Satoru doesn't really pay attention to holidays. To him, it's all the same—he can turn everyday into a holiday if he wanted to.

However, Valentine's Day is an exception. He knows it and is somewhat excited even. Why, you ask? Because this is the moment he has chosen. He's going to make you his on that very day.

He had everything planned out to perfection: skylit rooftop, bouquet of roses, eloquent speech (at least, he thought so). He was going to charm the pants out of you and it'd be a smooth-sailing event, he was sure of it!

At least until he heard that life-shattering gossip—

"I saw Geto-san asking her out for the 14th just now!"

"What?" he snapped his head in Haibara's direction, who was eagerly sharing with him and the others what he had allegedly heard, his eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

"Ehh, not bad," Shoko mused with a hint of amusement, casting a curious look his way. It was obvious she was enjoying this.

Nanami let out a thoughtful hum. "That's quite a surprise. I didn't think they'll go that fast."

"But how?!" Satoru suddenly exploded, grabbing Haibara by the collar. "How did that slimy bangs go from saying nothing to asking her out?!"

"O-oh Gojo-san! Don't squish me, please!"

And from then onwards, his focus was set: preventing you from falling into Suguru's grimy hands. Absolutely no way! He was so close already. He was on the cusp of winning your heart, and he knew it!

Now, you laughed at his jokes, you didn't ignore him as much, and you even asked him if he was okay after his recent mission! That was huge progress, even Satoru knew as much. And no, even if it was Suguru, he refused to hand you over to him.

On the 14th, you were going to be his... even if it cost him everything!

Gojo Satoru is annoying. You supposed you knew that already, but over these past few days, his ability to get on your nerves somehow had ascended to a wholly new level.

"I'm telling you, you should go with me! I'm going to take you somewhere amazing!" he practically demanded right up in your space, prompting you to let out a long-drawn sigh.

By all means, his attempts to woo you were all lame. He didn't know the first thing about being humble, and logically, you should have been more inclined to push him away.

‘Should’ being the operative word, because, somehow, over the past few weeks, you've started to see his antics as not just bearable but even endearing in a way. No one had ever pursued you with such relentless zeal before him, and it became increasingly difficult to overlook the way your heart fluttered in response to his (occasionally dubious) attempts to win you over.

So, right now, it really wasn't because you were playing hard to get. "Gojo, I've told you already. I can't on that day, I've already got plans," you sighed, exasperated.

He shot you a glance, his expression shifting into a brazenly raised eyebrow. "With Suguru?"

"How do you—"

"Tell him no," Satoru pressed, scowling. "Tell him I asked you first."

"In fact, he asked first—"

“Just say no!”

“No!”

"You're seriously going on a date with him?" he questioned, almost in disbelief. "And what, you're going to confess to him too?"

His tone didn't sit well with you, causing your irritation to rise. You frowned and retorted boldly, "And if I do? It's not like you can do anything about it anyway."

Wait, that actually hurts. Satoru was now irked too. Hadn't he shown enough for you to understand just how much of a big deal it was for him? Didn't you know he actually likes you so much that it made him toss and turn on some nights?

(No, you didn't really know. He just made himself look stupid most of the time. You were not that impressed.)

"As a matter of fact, I can," he began, expression turning into a slight sneer. "I can and I will if you still insist on going with him."

"Wha?"

"I'm going to crash your party so hard, you'll wish you hadn't gone behind my back. The audacity he has, trying to steal my girl!"

"You sound like a creep," you couldn't help blurting out, wide-eyed. "And I'm not your girl—"

"You—are quite heartless." His gaze on you behind that glasses hardened, and you were suddenly taken aback by how upset he looked. "I'm giving you my all—I think about you all day and night I think it's actually making me crazy!"

You stared at him, genuinely dumbfounded this time, realizing that somehow or another now, he was pouring his emotions out.

"Nothing I say will make sense to you, but whatever—" he exhaled sharply in frustration. "It's always you—in my mind. Compared to anyone else now, you're the prettiest. And if you were to ask me to pull a Blue on Ichiji right now, I'd probably do it! You see now—what you have done to me?"

"Ichiji? Gojo—!"

"You might think I did all of this for your attention, and yes, you’re right! That's how much you've messed with my head!"

. . .

Oh, now he had really gone and done it, hadn't he? He had laid it all bare, every last bit of it—the chaotic heap stacking up as his botched confession. And there were no roses, no rooftop, and none of the grandeur he had envisioned. This was so not how he wanted it to go at all.

Satoru grimaced, suddenly regretting this turn of events. He had seen it coming already—you calling him a total weirdo and then leaving him in the dust. Just the thought was enough to make his heart squeeze. Wanting to escape before it became a reality, he abruptly turned on his heel and walked away from you.

He barely made it a few steps away before he felt a firm tug on his arm.

"Wait! Gojo!"

You grabbed his arm tightly, forcing him to turn towards you. Satoru stubbornly refused to meet your gaze, his lips pressed into a massive pout. Yet, beyond that display of defiance, you could discern a hint of heartbreak splashed across his face, and it made your stomach churn.

Always trying to make you look at him. Always trying to get you to smile through his lame jokes. Making himself stupid on purpose. Frustrated when his feelings went unnoticed… All Gojo Satoru did thus far finally added up.

So it's true... he likes me this much...?

In that moment, warmth flooded through you. This idiot. Everyone said he was no good, but your heart couldn't help but leap, and a flurry of butterflies seemed to dance in your stomach.

In this instant, everything seemed to fall into place. Any doubt you might have melted away, leaving only a sense of certainty about your feelings. Everything just feels absolutely right.

"I'm not going on a date with Geto, you know."

"Huh?" Upon hearing that, he swiveled to face you, his gaze intensively searching your face for further explanation.

With a huff, you elaborated, "It's for my Grade One promotion mission. Geto-san asked to join me for it."

"But why? He doesn't need to—"

"He wants to tag along to absorb more cursed spirits, you see..."

"Oh, amassing new little friends, I see," Satoru quipped, face scrunching up distastefully.

His mood seems better now, you noted. You exhaled, your heart suddenly felt like it was pounding louder. "So, you've got the wrong idea. It sucks but my Valentine's day is going to be spent on a mission."

A beat passed by before he finally spoke again, still sheepish and avoiding eye contact. "I'm coming with you too, for that... mission or whatever."

You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your face. "And?"

"And... huh?"

"That's all? Nothing else you want to add?"

And suddenly his eyes sparkled back to life. Beyond those ridiculous round glasses, his bright, yet steadfast eyes met yours with such vibrant shine it made your chest thump so hard and face flush with matching intensity.

Silly, silly boy... liking me so much that he turns stupid.

"Actually, I've got plenty more to say!"

With an indignant snort, you released his arm. "Well, I'm waiting. Because what you just said before has to be the most underwhelming confession I've ever heard."

"Wha? Hey! That wasn't my confession! Just you wait, I'll do it over, and this time, I'll make you swoon so hard you'll forget how Suguru's face looks like!"

And on the night of February 14, he truly surpassed himself once again in making a terrible confession, and yet it still signified the day you truly became his—the beginning of your life together, which along the way, would be filled with more shenanigans, endless laughter and of course, love.

Epilogue

"Haibara, I really thought you're the most sensible here! I can't believe you!"

Suguru massaged his temples with utter grievance. So this was the cause of his headache and constant death stares Satoru gave him these past few days—the three people gathering in front of him!

"I've told you already, Nanami—Gojo is really going through with it," Shoko cackled with utter satisfaction. "Now, pay up."

"Ieiri-san... sigh— from now on, I'm not participating in your bets anymore."

Haibara, who went with Shoko's suggestion to incite this, sheepishly laughed. "Ehe, Geto-san, all that ends well is well though, no?"

"Satoru was really about to skin me alive! Ugh, and you almost ruined my date too..."

"Eh? Date?" All three sets of eyes suddenly fixed on him in utter astonishment. "Who?"

-> continue to 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 (with geto suguru—soon!)

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feyascorner · 4 months

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as the snow falls

summary. years after becoming the vampire ascendant and harnessing the endless power he’s always wanted, the loneliness of his throne brings him to reminisce about the only person who’d ever cracked the surface of his frozen heart.

so why not visit them disguised as someone else?

warnings. angst, little to no comfort, bittersweet, this is kinda long

pairing. astarion x GN!reader

a/n. happy holidays everyone! I thought about making a fluffier fic but what’s better than holiday angst!! this takes place years after the game where Tav/reader breaks up with astarion once he becomes ascendant btw!

He hated fresh snow. At this time of year, he left the palace more often, leaving deep footprints that ruin its perfect evenness. He preferred when it was stained with blood, but then again, he preferred anything over untouched snow.

So when he sits up from his bed, which is far too big for one person, he sighs irritably at the snow falling softly on the other side of the window. His voice awakens the woman beside him, who rubs at her eyes, her other fingers grazing at the two identical puncture wounds at her neck.

To be quite honest, he'd forgotten she was there. He only notices her when she revels at what he's staring at, letting out a shrilling gasp. “My Lord, it’s snowing! How beautiful.”

Judging from the way she oh so comfortably addresses him, he figures she’s one of the newer servants in the palace. Any other half witted person would know to keep their head down and leave quietly, but not her. While it would bother him on any other occasion, he doesn't bother reprimanding her as his mind fails to supply him the words. He doesn't even know her name.

“Get out,” is all he says, voice an octave deeper than usual. There's a slight pause before she scrambles to climb out of the bed, finally having had some sense knocked into her. He only glances at her right as she shuts the door, eyes only noticing how her hair is the same shade as his late lover.

When he turns back to his window, he remembers how your hair had looked softer than hers. He remembers the way it had felt when he ran his fingers through your strands, and the way you'd smile in that enchanting way of yours. The way he'd let you run your own hands through white curls in return, immersed in a world where only the two of you existed in that cruddy tent while the very real problems of the outside world didn’t weigh as heavy as they usually did.

He pulls the curtains closed.

By the time he gets to his throne room, the palace is already wide awake. While Cazador’s operations had run themselves mainly during the night, Astarion was different. He could bathe in the sun all he wanted and would only come out glowing, and he'd abuse that to his full advantage. He was not afraid of the sun, because they were not the same.

They were not the same at all.

As he paces by the servants, they all hush down, quietly returning to their busy schedules as they prepare whatever housework they'd been assigned to. When he perches on his throne, he looks down at all of them, eyes narrowed at each of their movements. He’s not truly paying any of them any attention, except for the occasional ones who have the same shade of hair as the servant this morning. Those ones have puncture wounds on their necks.

Even if their blood tastes vile in comparison to yours, it’s the closest he can get.

Finally, something truly catches his attention. If he didn't have such keen ears, he wouldn't have heard the few in the corner, whispering.

“The heroes are celebrating the restoration of the city at Elfsong tavern tonight!” one says excitedly. “Do you think Master will go see them?”

“No, certainly not,” another responds. “He rarely meets them anymore, does he? Shame. I would love to see them in person before they leave. I heard a few of them won’t be coming back for a while.”

“Surely we could go ourselves?”

“Well,” one ponders. “If we hurry with all our assignments perhaps we can make it in time…”

Astarion snaps back into attention when a male servant approaches him, admittedly with a swallow of his throat. “My Lord.”

“What is it?” he snaps, thought it surprises even himself how harshly it came out. Not that he cares.

“T-the entire first floor has been scraped clean, my Lord. The second floor, twice,” he stammers, eyes looking anywhere but at Astarion’s face. While it first boosted his ego seeing others cower in fear, now it just irritates him. “Of course, we haven't touched the left wing, as you instructed, but there were some worries regarding the dust collecting in the main bedroom there, and-”

“The left wing will remain the way it is until I orderwise,” Astarion responds immediately, then pauses. “Tell the others to rid the yards of snow.”

The servant’s eyes go wide. “But my Lord, it’s still snowing…and there's already a few inches—to clean it would just result in the snow piling again-”

“I won't repeat myself, child.”

He is not like Cazador. Not at all.

As the servant stumbles away with a frantic nod, Astarion’s gaze drifts towards the windows again. He’d had them installed the second he took possession of the palace, refusing to keep its walls in darkness any longer. He'd torn off the curtains, wallpaper, decorations, and replaced them all with new ones—ones that were more to his liking. It was an entirely new Palace, and yet…

The only place he'd left untouched was the left wing. He knew the servant’s words came from reason. The left wing was surely to rot away at this rate, being left unoccupied for so long. He hated the way it had no windows, the way the curtains were the same blood red shade Cazador had favored, and how the hallway was only dimly lit with a few candles.

He closes his eyes.

He remembers your voice so clearly, he might’ve mistaken you for standing right before him. “Once we kill Cazador, isn't this place yours?”

He had raised a brow. “Perhaps. Why do you ask?”

“Maybe you can make this place more pleasing to the eye, I don't like how dark it is now.”

“Really? I am curious as to what you would deem admirable interior design. Perhaps I’ll give you a portion of the palace to yourself, my dear.”

He snaps his eyes open.

He truly hated when it snowed.

He looks down at all his subjects once more. And this time, he found the isolation of the throne eating at a heart that he no longer had.

——

The snow doesn't stop, even as the sun sets.

And while he detests himself for doing so, he finds himself entering Elfsong tavern, where the night’s just begun. After hours of contemplation, convincing himself he had no reason to join the celebrations of common folk, he thinks of course you of all people would celebrate at a mere tavern over a lavish party with the rich. Of course you'd prefer to listen to a less than pathetic excuse for a bard than a musician with years of experience.

He curses that humble streak of yours as he steps into the building with a disguise spell. He’s still an elf, handsome but not as much as his ordinary self. His hair is a shade of chestnut brown, eyes in a different color than his usual as well. It’s enough to pass as a different person.

He doesn't have to look around long, because someone bumps into his shoulder, yelping an obnoxious ‘ow!’ before turning to him. And while Astarion contemplates a more violent outcome for daring to cross a vampire, he quickly stops when he sees a familiar wizard.

“Sorry about that. Have a lot on my hands right now,” Gale apologizes with that annoying smile of his before rushing back to his table with the two drinks in his hands. It’s crowded in the tavern, but none of it stops Astarion from spotting you in an instant.

Gods above.

That same shade of hair framing your laughing expression is all he can see. Gale sets the drinks in front of you and Shadowheart, and the vampire makes out your thanks from the way you mouth the words before taking a chug from it.

You’ve matured. Your hair is styled differently than he remembers from a few years ago. The way you carry yourself is different too. And you seem more comfortable under so many gazes—all of which he wishes it were only his.

You look happy.

A part of himself hates you for it.

But when he dwells on the feeling a moment too long, he realizes it’s more directed to himself. Because while you sit there with that beautiful smile on your face, surrounded by your companions and the admiration of the city, all he has is the cold grips of his throne, where all he seems to think about is blood, and more importantly, you.

Enough, he thinks. He's making a fool of himself. He's sure you'd rather not see him anyway, after the poor falling out the two of you had. And he's not sure what he'd do if you came too close to him, which is also something he'd rather not test.

But then, you stand up. You wave something at the others before pacing across the tavern toward the back door. Astarion doesn't even have to will his legs to move before they're halfway across the door, trailing after you.

When he finds you again, you're ankle deep in the fresh layer of snow behind the loud tavern, in the otherwise quiet city of the night. You're staring at the sky as a snowflake lands on your nose, and you make no moves to wipe it off, instead you breathe in, and then out, leaving Astarion to stare blankly from the shadows.

“You can come out, you know. I promise I don't bite,” you hum, and a lump grows in his throat. Still, he does.

“It’s cold,” he says.

“It is,” you smile, oblivious to who you're speaking to through the disguise. He simultaneously wants to reveal himself and hide in the shadows. “It’s nice though. I've always loved snow, and this might be my last chance to see it in Baldur’s Gate for a while.”

He stares at the way your breath steams against the freezing air. “Have plans of travel? Surely a hero like you would prefer to stay in a city of people in your debt.”

“Adventuring, probably,” you shrug, turning your gaze back down to the snow. “I’ve done what I can here. No reason for me to stay.”

The selfish part of him flares, though it seems to be most of him nowadays. Him. He should be the reason.

His brows furrow. “You won't be coming back?”

“Probably not for a while. This city holds a lot of memories, and not all of them are ones I'm rather fond of,” you sigh. “I just wish I could've helped more people, but I suppose life just doesn't work out the way you want it to.”

He raises a brow. “How ambitious. I would think saving an entire city is enough for at least a few lifetimes.”

“Well,” your voice drops. “There was one more person I really wanted to help. One that I lost.”

He remains quiet, eyes glued to the way you kick at the snow.

“I should have guided him better. Should have let him know that he was enough. Not because he was some all powerful being, but just because he was him. I thought—” your nose crinkles. “—I thought I'd been helping him, by encouraging him any way I could. But that tore us apart, and I'd do anything to go back and fix it.”

To be in that tent again, to hold you close again, to love you again.

“Sounds like a lucky man to receive such endearing words from you,” is all he manages.

You snort, laughing a bit. “I was the lucky one to have ever met him. I just wish our time together hadn't been so short.”

And as you hold out cupped hands to the sky, gathering the snow, Astarion feels his chest go impossibly tight when you finally meet his eyes. Gods, had he missed them. “I wish we could've seen the snow together. The first snow in the morning, when nothing’s touched it and it’s just a perfect even layer. I think he would have liked it.”

“I’m sure,” he says. “I’m sure he would've enjoyed watching the snow with you.”

You smile again, and he forces down the urge to pull you closer right then and there. To remind you that you can have all that, and more. He could give you everything, the world be damned. He could have you sit on his lap in the throne of his palace, and fill your head with hushed promises of love and praises, holding you tight to his side with one hand and wine in the other.

He could forget about how cold the throne feels.

Instead, he only watches you step out of the snow and pace towards the door leading back to the tavern. And as you open the door, you glance back at him. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“I ought to return home. I have quite the night ahead of me.”

You tilt your head. “Shame, I was hoping to buy you a drink for listening to a complete stranger for five minutes.”

Astarion offers a slight nod. “Perhaps next time, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

He hates the churning inside of him as he realizes this is your final farewell. This is the last time you’ll give him your full attention, and he detests the way all he wants to do is to convince you to stay. To realize he can offer so much more than the rest of the world. That he’d ruin the world for you.

But when your smile softens, he stops himself again. He curses the effect you have on him. “Next time, then.”

And then the door shuts closed.

He stares at it for a long time, waging an internal battle where he struggles to gather his composure relentlessly until he looks away and turns his attention back to the snow.

He breathes. Not because he has to—because he doesn't—but because it finally allows his shoulders to relax.

The air is cold in his throat.

Somehow, from here rather than the view from his bedroom, the snow doesn't look so bad.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst #bg3 #bg3 tav

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zhongrin · 1 year

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cium aku dong?

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, wanderer, cyno, al haitham, tighnari, xiao, ayato, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, kaveh, thoma, dottore, pantalone

◇ tags ◇ fluff, domestic, established relationship, kisses. LOTS of kisses (duh), slight angst (kaeya i'm so sorry), slight suggestiveness on some, slight possessiveness on some

◇ a/n ◇ [en] “kiss me please?” aka the ways they ask for a kiss <3 uh? what... what do you mean i clearly have favorites? i-i don't..... *nervous sweating* ANYWAY. merry xmas yall!! we all deserve fluff this holiday season so enjoy <3

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

“can i have my special tea?”

“darling, may i?”

zhongli is a natural at pulling you in for a kiss; most of the time he doesn’t expect you to kiss back, but he would be over the moon if you do.

you’re passing each other in the hallway of your house? he just leans towards you to place a fleeting kiss on your shoulder. you’re doing something and he passes behind you? he leans over to place a kiss on the top of your head and goes off his way. you sit beside him and plop your head on his shoulder? he smiles and scratches your scalp and places a sweet kiss on your forehead.

unfortunately (for you), on some occasions when he’s feeling a little playful, he might become a little tease; kissing you everywhere but your lips until you protest. to which he’ll chuckle fondly before finally giving in, pressing a soft fleeting kiss that promises you more when the curtains close for the day.

“kiss meeeeeeeee!!!!”

“[name]…. who was that person....?”

childe is a master of surprise kisses! he makes use of his skill to erase his presence to sneak up on you when you’re relaxing, before suddenly tackling you into a hug and kissing you all over your face.

when he’s in the mood for kisses, he becomes a ravenous kissing monster who can only be satiated after at least fifty proper kisses. or perhaps a few rounds of long, drawn-out make-out sessions.

just don’t deny him of his kisses because then he’ll brood and it’ll be his poor subordinates who get the burnt of his frustration. and if you get gifts on your doorstep with a recruit insignia badge, you probably should storm your boyfriend’s office before he actually kills someone.

“what? what’s that look for? heh, if you wanted a kiss you could’ve just asked. i~diot.” *cue the heart-piercing, soul-ascending blep*

“hey. come here.”

wanderer is either endlessly taunting you for the whole day, or being very blunt (while blushing furiously) as he motions you to come over. there’s no in-between.

you either kiss him, which will result in a smug smirk and perhaps a haughty ‘hmph, knew you can’t get enough of me’. or you just don’t… which means you’ve indirectly signed an agreement for him to be a total brat™️ for the day until he’s satisfied.

ohhh how unfortunate, your favorite scarf is blown away by the wind. ooooh, seems like it’s raining and there’s no shelter, too bad you don’t have a hat that can function as an umbrella. ooooo, what’s that? you want a hug?

ha.

in. your. dreams.

and yet when you kiss him he melts into you within 0.001 seconds.

“[name], did you know? sloths never kiss on the first date…… they take it slow.”

“can i… hold you? just for a bit?”

when the kiss puns start to drop left right and center, you know it’s cyno’s way to ask for a kiss.

... the man uses his jokes to get people to be less way of them instead of saying it out loud, what did you expect?

he might not realize it, but he stares at you especially hard on these occasions. if it were others, they would have feared for your life, but you know this is cyno’s version of the infamous wet puppy eyes. personally, you think it’s very adorable because it’s so very him, so you can’t help but pretend you don't understand just to tease him more.

the population thinks you must be some kind of a beast tamer in your past life, seeing as how the general mahamatra always faithfully follows behind you and always back down as soon as your touch descends upon him.

“you’re here. come sit. now kiss me.”

“i need to kiss you so you can testify to kaveh that i am, in fact, not an amateur when it comes to kissing. it would also be good if you can rate your satisfaction on a scale of one to ten- [name], where are you going?”

at the early stages of your relationship, al haitham isn't as insufferable; he takes what he gets, and he’s taking the time to get used to the idea of how he practically has the right to kiss you now.

but when that realization fully, truly sinks in?

oh boy.

he’ll be blunt, straight to the point, and unashamed. he might be blushing the first few times when he asked for your permission for a kiss. but seeing how much you got into it, hearing the breathless way you whisper his name, and witnessing the dopey smile after he’s done with you…

aha. eureka. it appears his expertise extends to kissing too. but of course, he is, as the youngsters these days say, ‘built different’, after all.

so why would he shy away from the activity?

now come kiss him.

“did you know that fennec foxes go through withdrawals when they don’t receive at least ten kisses per day? it’s true, i have conducted extensive research on it. with me as the research subject, of course, so i know the result is 99.99% reliable.”

“there, i gave you headpats. now will you give me kisses?”

always so dramatic and sassy. tighnari loves seeing the embarrassed look that crosses your face and the adorable giggles that escapes you whenever he tries to initiate the activity.

the fox hybrid likes to pat your head and lean forward so you can press a thank you kiss to his face. he doesn’t even mind where your kiss will land.

nose? kinda ticklish, but that’s very cute of you. cheek? adorable, why thank you. lips? hmmm… do that again.

“……….. what? i-i wasn’t staring!”

“[name], just a moment…. stay still.”

please just save xiao the embarrassment and kiss him regularly.

although your boyfriend might not look like he enjoys affection, he actually does. he’s just… not used to it and has no idea how to react, much less initiate physical affection. it’s something that he needs a lot of time to get used to, especially with his condition and background.

your protector yaksha is always so gentle when he asks for your loving touches - and most of the time he doesn’t even dare to ask - but the signs are there. you’ll really have to squint your eyes and tilt your head and maybe do a handstand before you realize ‘oh he wants a kiss’.

just. cuddle and kiss him darn it.

“my, what a fine morning, don’t you agree, sweetheart? it would be even more perfect if i had a morning kiss from my lovely partner, don’t you think?”

“there you are. lock the door for me, darling. now, why don't you make yourself comfortable?”

teasing words here and there, his hand touching your arm more than usual, him stopping when you pass each other in the hallway to make some insignificant small talk even though he’s clearly hurrying to a meeting…

yeah, your overworked man is in dire need of some loving.

if you give in and pull ayato for a quick kiss, he will skip over to his next appointment with a permanent smile. once again, you’ve saved the day of everyone in kamisato estate. great work, you! pat yourself on the back because you deserved it!

but continue to ignore him and you might find yourself being called to his office just to sit on his lap for hours (which, trust me, it gets boring after a while) without kisses or any sort of affection whatsoever... so pick your actions carefully.

“i know i should be working. but i wanted to… take a break.”

“love, your lips… n-no. it's just that. um. they look dry. here, use my chapstick.”

diluc? taking a break from work??

that diluc???

either he is very sick, or he is very much starved for your love. kindly think back on your day and check when was the last time you gave him a proper kiss, please.

what's that? you gave him a forehead kiss this morning to wake him up? oh. i’m sorry to say this but that’s just not enough. how dare you starve this man for four hours with no kisses. no wonder he’s unable to focus on his documents. please fulfill his lovesick daydream by barging into his office and distracting him from work with your wonderful, soft lips….

... please?

“work? mmm…. unfortunately my battery is near-empty… o kind, beautiful soul, would you help this poor man back to his feet?”

“hello my love, i came by because your lips look lonely.”

kaeya is very obviously a teasing flirt when he’s needy or bored. mostly he adores the embarrassed look on your face; he thinks it's very adorable and endearing. it's a sight he wishes to treasure and forever imprint in his mind, to peruse when doubt and darker thoughts attack him at night.

but let me tell you a secret.

yank his stupid coat and pull him into a kiss before he can use that sultry voice to tease you. kabedon him when you have the chance to, while you’re at it. watch the cavalry captain become putty in your hands. you’re welcome <3

“my dove, would you be so kind to quench this wandering man’s thirst for your sweet kisses?”

“it’s rather windy today… there you go, all set. ah, it's okay, i'm not cold. oh, i forgot. just one more thing- *kiss*…. hehe, i can see that you’re warming up already.”

longing looks and poetic words. kazuha kisses you like it’s a stray wind brushing gently on your lips, light and dreamy and leaving you wanting for more. his ruby eyes will droop with affection as you whine and pull him back for more contact. well, who is he to reject your generous invitation?

soon enough one peck becomes two, two becomes three, and then it turns into a soft makeout session and- oh is that beidou yelling at you both to get a room? haha, it seems like it’s time to change locations…

“[name] look, i finished the blueprint for our dream house! huh? oh, yeah this is the… what, fifth blueprint? well, i can’t help it! we should have at least seven houses in all seven nations- eh? t-the mora? uhhhhh…”

“i need… i need inspiration… my muse… i need my muse…”

you know it’s bad bad when kaveh trudges onto your side like a zombie that’s been out running after people’s brains for far too long.

he slumps onto you completely (good luck supporting a claymore user) and basks in your presence, arms wound tight on your middle section. it seems like you’ve deprived him of kisses for far too long. he’ll recover faster if you hug him back and run your fingers through his silky locks. when he pulls back slightly to pout at you, and you place a sweet kiss on his lips, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch.

the legendary architect's eyes widen and his downturned lips flip upside down. he kisses you back with vigor and runs back to his drawing room shouting about some new calculations and other kind of materials he could use. what a dork.

“[name]….” *insert the most adorable, heart-wrenching, chest-squeezing, wet puppy eyes here*

“i’ll be going now. have a good day, okay? i love you!”

like a faithful shiba inu, thoma beams and stares at you expectantly near the front door of your shared residence, waiting for that kiss you never fail to give him every single time he’s about to head out to work in the mornings.

will you ignore him and risk getting ayaka to visit you because ‘thoma seems very sad and distracted today, did you have a fight? why don’t you talk it out, i know you both treasure each other', or will you be an angel and make him start his day with the loveliest gift you can bestow your loyal lover?

“based on the monitoring data of your hormones over the past few hours, it seems that you’re in need of kisses. what? me, lying? making up facts? listen to me. who’s the doctor in this relationship?”

“it appears another segment of mine has been granted the privilege of a kiss, so i demand equal treatment.”

sure, doc. hormones screaming for a kiss. will experience lethargy for the rest of the day if not fulfilled. immediate treatment is preferred as he does not want to be stuck with a grumpy, needy lover for the rest of the day, blah blah blah-

look. i'll translate for you.

he wants a kiss. dottore wants a kiss. just give the mad doctor a kiss.

huh? which segment do you give a kiss to?

….. it seems like all of them want a kiss. you know, just to be fair.

good luck.

“good day, darling. i see that you’re wearing the necklace i bought you yesterday. you look ravishing indeed.”

“come here, love. i won’t ask twice.”

with every compliment directed your way and with every piece of new jewels added to your collections, pantalone expects you to give back some sort of affection. naturally. everything is a give-and-take, no? he provides you with all the luxuries and convenience a normal civilian can only dream of, and you provide him with what he asks for.

he’s not even asking for much - just don’t look at other men, focus on him and his needs, and pull him into a kiss every fifteen minutes. it's not hard of a task at all. surely you can fulfill it? otherwise, perhaps some disciplinary sessions are in order...

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dduane · 1 day

Note

In light of recent posts, I find myself wondering - if wizards can boil water almost instantly for the expenditure of a little personal energy, have they figured out how to caramelize onions quickly? Nita briefly wonders about culinary wizardry (in Wizard’s Holiday, if I recall correctly) but I can only imagine the possibilities!

Probably there are methods that would work. But I'm finding it all too easy to hear what the onion would have to say about that... looking back at that discussion with the lettuce.

—I'm sorry, you want me to what?? Excuse me very much, but I am being transmuted, here! I am in the process of learning a whole new style of existence! I who was only ever fierce and overwhelming am being made subtle and sweet! I am becoming something I thought was never even going to be possible for me! Here I am, in fact, relinquishing my old state of being for a new one—indeed, right in the middle of dying in slow nurturing fire and ascending into glory—and you want me to rush? Fine. Be that way. And when you're in your last moments of your old existence and relishing your last chance to say farewell to all you've been and once held dear, I hope some unsympathetic transdimensional being that forgot to pack enough fucking Planck time comes along and tells you to hurry up. But yeah, sure, go right ahead. Just try to push me. I am going to scorch so bad. Won't waste my time feeling guilty about it, either. ...Gonna give you heartburn, too. Just watch, smutbutt.

...In any case, on the whole, I suspect that wizards who routinely work in the culinary mode need to be either quite patient, or made of fairly stern stuff. :)

HTH.

#onions #caramelizing onions #Young Wizards meta #(culinary mode)#I suspect that the onion in question here was of mature vintage #because the voice I kept hearing it in was that of #Danny DeVito #Young Wizards

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wedonthaveawhile · 5 months

Text

Crimson and Clover

Garreth Weasley x MC (18+ only)

The Weasley's are known for their hospitality when it comes to those without a place to call home. In keeping with his family values, Garreth invites MC to the Weasley Christmas party, leading to some one-on-one time in the barn.

Tags: NSFW, aged-up characters, smut with plot, semi-public sex, dirty talk, oral sex, drunk sex, snowstorm, flirty Garreth, fluff, modern dating norms.

AO3 // Word count: 5.5k

The witch crunched over patches of frosty grass as she ascended the cracked cobblestone path to the Weasley cottage. She had a suspicion Garreth may have stretched the truth regarding the number of guests his family typically hosts over Christmas. His house was tiny. Undeniably adorable, with warm light spilling from frosted iron window frames, and crooked beams nestled between cobbled bricks, but it was definitely on the snug side.

A decent amount is what he’d told her when she’d interrogated him on the headcount. In hindsight, it was a very vague answer.

She probably should've kept her holiday plans—or lack thereof—to herself, considering his family's reputation for taking in students without a place to call home, but he’s so difficult to tune out when eagerly recounting one of his ridiculous anecdotes.

“—that’s when it dawned on me that I’d spiked the barrel with a tad too much firewhisky," Garreth had regaled, his hands waving dangerously close to the dormant devil snare. "Aunt Matilda is down for the count..."

His herbology partner stifled a laugh at the thought of their conjuration professor blackout drunk, only to be jolted into panic as Garreth's flailing hands nearly triggered a response from the roots.

"Garreth, will you focus!"

"Shit, my bad," he muttered, conjuring a beam of light to repel the advancing vines. “So anyway, we’re pretty sure Aunt Matilda’s dead at this point, but then she sits up and demands we bring her a man-”

A suppressed snort lodged in her throat and she promptly choked on it, triggering Garreth to erupt into a spirited cackle.

"Alright, my little seedlings," Professor Garlick began to softly chastise. "Let's ensure each leaf in this botanical cluster gets its chance to soak in the sunlight of knowledge without being overshadowed by the noise.”

They exchanged sheepish glances before refocusing their attention on their assignment.

“What about you, how was your Hallowe'en?” Garreth asked, brushing up the scattered soil on their table and sliding it into Duncan's bag.

“Peaceful. There were moments when it felt like I had the entire castle to myself, it was perfect."

"Wait, you were here?" He swiped the back of his hand across his frown, smearing damp mud across his freckles. “Not typical for your watchdogs to let you roam alone, is it?”

She nervously stole a glance across the table. Fortunately, both Sebastian and Ominis were too immersed in their own tasks to catch the jab.

“Had I known, I would've persistently hounded you until you came to mine,” Garreth continued, “You could've witnessed drunk Professor Weasley in all her glory. Consider this an early Christmas invite."

"I appreciate it, but I actually love the calm during the holidays."

"Even over Christmas?" His brow furrowed as he struggled to grasp the idea of finding joy in silence. "What would you even do if you were on your own?"

She released a deep exhale as she contemplated her options, most scenarios revolving around the idea of staying in pyjamas all day. "I'd probably spend most of the day in bed—"

Garreth smirked, cleaning soil from his fingernails. "I could clear you a spot in mine."

She rolled her eyes, choosing to brush off his remark. He had a reputation for being a flirt but in the past few months he’d doubled down and the line was starting to blur between teasing and genuine intent.

Assuming the invitation was nothing more than a passing whim, she thought that would be the end of it, but she was mistaken. The occasional lingering glances they shared in passing—glances she typically tried to ignore—were now interpreted by him as an open invitation to approach. He relentlessly pestered her on whether she would be attending, shooting down each excuse with a stream of reasons why she should be there.

"Christmas is a family event, it would be strange for me to be there."

"Christmas at my house? Packed. Most of them? Total strangers."

"I'm dreadful at small talk. You'd have to stick to me like glue and handle all the mindless chatter."

"I'd do both of those things regardless."

She staved off his advances until early December when she ultimately surrendered just to put an end to his relentless pursuit. There were two weeks of holiday to enjoy, so giving him a few hours on Christmas Eve felt like a reasonable compromise.

She released a shaky huff of breath, the warmth curling up and misting into the crisp air, before rapping her knuckles against the weathered door. After a series of muffled footsteps, it creaked open an inch and little fingers curled around the edge. A festive melody wafted through the hallway and spilt into the front garden. Through the narrow crack, a short, pudgy-face Garreth peered out.

"Hi there," she greeted with an awkward wave, her hand hesitating mid-air as the kid gawked up at her. "Is Garreth home?"

Following an uncooperative pause, a surge of relief rolled through her as the bug-eyed child was nudged aside, and the door swung open fully at the hands of her herbology partner.

There was an undeniable tightening in her chest at the sight of him in his party attire – a dark red shirt with sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a snug sweater vest layered over it. His unruly ginger hair had been somewhat tamed by a touch of pomade, but he’d mostly retained his customary wild waves. She attempted to toss out a snarky comment about his appearance, but an articulate sentence evaded her.

"Did you walk all the way from town?" he asked, leaning his head out the front door and tracking the trail of disturbed snow left by her footsteps. "We have a floo connection in our living room, you know. You could have come straight here."

"I felt awkward showing up in the middle of your house. I didn't want to get ambushed by a grandma."

Their eyes met and a brief silence hung between them until he blinked, "You returned an egg to a Hebridean black dragon on foot, but introducing yourself to Granny Meryl has you all nervous?"

"Mind if I come in?" she brushed off his question and crossed the uneven wooden threshold into the warmth of the hallway. He only half-turned to let her through, forcing her to brush up against him as she passed. It was going to be a long night.

Maybe he hadn't exaggerated the capacity of his house - the hallway alone was the size of the exterior. Bulky coats and scattered shoes adorned one side of the expansive hallway, while the aroma of festive spices wafted from the open living room door. Beyond it, she could hear a lively cluster of voices, more than she had expected. The concept of a bustling atmosphere rather than an intimate one managed to quell her nerves slightly.

"You're looking lovely," Garreth complimented as he took her coat and added it to the hectic mountain of others. When she turned to face him, he made no attempt to hide the fact that his eyes were wandering all over her, taking in the details of her emerald dress. "Did you put in all this effort for me?"

"No, it’s for Granny Meryl.”

Garreth groaned dramatically, tossing his head back as he led her into the living room. "Granny’s power of seduction knows no bounds.”

The interior of the cottage must have been expanded for the party, it felt like it went on forever as Garreth weaved them through the horde of inebriated partygoers. One of the perks of belonging to a pureblood family: The unrestricted use of transfiguration spells as the need arose.

They ducked past a drunk aunt merrily dancing on a table with a tie fastened around her forehead which took her way too long to realise was Professor Weasley. Securing a tankard of eggnog that leaned more towards pure brandy, they sank into one of the conjured sofas by the fireplace. She felt a flutter of unease as Garreth slouched a little too close on the worn-out crimson couch. The sagging base pressed their thighs together as it slanted inward, and his arm casually draped around the back of the sofa forced her to consciously resist leaning into him.

She indulged in a few gulps of her festive brew, hoping it would work its magic in loosening her up. She wrinkled her nose at its sharp bite. "Did you have a hand in creating this? It's pure alcohol."

"No, I wasn’t allowed," Garreth sighed, his eyes momentarily losing focus as if lost in a painful memory. "Not after last time."

She wasn't sure if she wanted to dig deeper into that story, but her attention was snagged when something bounced off her leg.

"How many of these are siblings?" she questioned, observing another hyperactive child nearly tripping over her ankles in a rapid dash. For every ginger kid zipping around, a blonde or brunette was in hot pursuit. It became increasingly clear that the Weasleys had not only gathered their immediate family but also an assortment of additional strays.

"Too many. I have two older and three younger, though don’t ask me to distinguish them from my cousins because I’ve already had a bit of brandy and they all have the same face.”

“Yeah, your face.”

“The Weasley genes are strong.”

She gestured toward the gawky child she had encountered when she arrived, "Surely that one's a brother? I initially thought it was you at the door, and you'd had some of that defective potion again—the age-reversing one."

Garreth burst into laughter. "I'd forgotten about that."

“Didn't Sharp have to carry you around on his hip the entire day until it wore off?"

"What a day," he reminisced, wiping a tear from his eye. "And by the way, that's not the same kid who opened the door for you."

"What?"

"I might still have some of that potion," he dismissed her confusion, pondering aloud with a distant look in his eyes. His hand suddenly clamped down on her knee, and he turned to her with pure glee. "Let’s put it in the eggnog."

“Garreth, no.”

"You two are absolutely delightful," an elderly wizard chimed in, swaying slightly as he gestured between the two of them before delving into a nostalgic tangent about him and his wife in their prime.

She noticed she had gradually surrendered to the sinking sofa and was practically nestled in the crook of the arm Garreth had draped across the backrest, while his other hand maintained a firm grip on her knee.

"No, that's not..." she stammered, elbowing him away. "He's just my herbology partner."

“Sorry, dear?”

"She said I’m her life partner—" Garreth’s quip morphed into a yelp as her elbow found its way into his ribs.

After downing just enough alcohol to straddle the fine line between tipsy and outrageously tired, the incessant chatter in the room began to verge on overwhelming. Politely removing herself from a longwinded conversation they’d found themselves in with a rambling cousin, she slipped out into the empty hallway for a brief respite.

The main lights had been extinguished, casting the corridor in a warm glow from the floating candles scattered across high beams. She leaned back against the wall, eyes closed and absorbed the relative quiet.

The living room door scuffed against a rug, unleashing a burst of joyous music before clicking shut again. She'd chalk it up to the eggnog later, but the flickering light cast a shadow over Garreth’s gentle features, and something in her gut pulled taut.

"Are you stalking me, Weasley?" She arched an eyebrow, resisting the urge to give him a once-over.

"You did mention the only way I'd get you to come is if I stuck to you like glue," he pointed out, leaning against the wall beside her.

"Oh, fuck, did I say that?" she sighed, too tired to argue, and couldn't anyway because he was completely right. "I’m not running off, I just needed a breather."

"I didn't think you were, I just wanted to check in." He pushed himself off the wall and started pacing down the hall, brimming with too much energy to stand still. "If you need a real timeout, we could go for a walk and get lost in the snow… It’s nice and quiet out there, where sounds don't carry."

"You could phrase it in a way that doesn't sound like you're plotting my death."

"I'm ready and willing to escape these prying eyes if you are?"

She gave a nod of approval at his somewhat improved wording, then scolded herself as her slightly tipsy gaze ran down the length of his body. Her relief at his lack of comment shifted to a sense of surrender as he summoned their coats, keenly aware he would torment her with it if she declined.

Over the past hour, the snow had whipped up into a flurry, the cottage obscured in a dreamy haze as their steps left imprints on the path that weaved through the fields.

Garreth wrapped them up in a warming charm, the flakes melting into droplets before reaching their skin and trickling down the edges of the shield. It took the edge off the biting December breeze, though it fell short of providing any substantial warmth.

"What's with the feeble charm?" she shivered, answering her own question as she edged a little closer to Garreth, attempting to pilfer some body heat.

"No clue what you’re on about, I’m perfectly warm.”

"You're a liar," she declared. She had wrapped her sleeves around her fingers in an attempt to ward off the chill but let a hand emerge to press the back of it to his flushed cheek. He wasn't lying, his skin burned against her frozen fingers.

"Feel free to turn up the heat," he smirked, leaning into her touch. She thought it was an invitation to enhance the charm, but the laughter that followed his comment hinted at something more suggestive.

"You're the host—it's on you to keep me comfortable," She dropped her hand, noticing she had subconsciously homed in on the warmth radiating from his neck.

He intercepted it before it could fall limply at her side, slowly intertwining their fingers. He gave her every opportunity to pull away, but she found herself not wanting to.

"I'm glad you agreed to come," his voice stumbled for just a split second, but she caught it. Nerves.

It was endearing—a crack in his self-assured armour that stirred a feeling she’d experienced before but had always buried away—When his face lit up as she laughed at one of his one-liners. When he’d pickpocket the last red velvet cookie for her from his Quidditch meetings. When he'd spot her in a bustling crowd, bump his shoulder into hers and walk her to class.

"I'm glad you asked me a hundred and twelve times," she teased, knocking her elbow against his arm. She stole a glance back across the field to catch sight of the cottage. Despite feeling that they hadn't covered much ground, all she could discern beyond five feet was a swirl of snowflakes and shadows.

“Are you nervous?”

She snickered at his question, having weathered harsher conditions in far less pleasant company. "No, I'm fine. I like a good snowstorm."

“Well, there’s a barn up ahead if you want to take some shelter and see if it calms down before we head back.”

"A barn? Do you have cows?" Her excitement bubbled up, pushing aside any suspicion of his ulterior motives. "Or horses?"

"No, we have stables up the hill, but we rent them out to folks in the village. This is just a hay barn. Although, there's a rather charming tourist attraction inside the barn that I'd love to show you."

"You're quite eager to get me inside that barn."

He responded with a sheepish smile. "I assure you, I'm being genuine—no funny business... Unless you initiate it."

The snowfall was thickening, and she admired how effortlessly he steered them through it. The barn didn't slowly come into view—she blinked, and suddenly the red wooden structure was looming over them.

The silence closed in as Garreth slammed the door shut and blocked out the insistent howling of the wind. The hush was only disturbed by the rustle of loose straw stirred by gusts slipping through the cracks in the beams. He flicked his wand towards the loft, and the spell ignited rows of candles lining the rafters. The soft glow revealed stacks of hay bales towering toward the loft, casting stretched shadows on the dusty wooden floor.

"Isn't that a fire hazard?"

"Muggle-borns," he scoffed, as though the mere suggestion was ludicrous.

“So, where’s this tourist attraction?”

He responded with a nod, directing her attention behind her. In the heart of the hay barn, a solitary rope swing dangled from a sturdy support beam.

"Oh, shit!" She dashed toward it, gathering momentum, and caught the swing midway. The worn fibres felt abrasive against her palms as she let it bear her weight. Hooking her foot into the loop, she tilted her head back, swinging with a jumbled grace. She was sure she hadn't consumed enough eggnog to be drunk, but as she propelled herself into the air, her brain began doing cartwheels. She inhaled the earthy aroma of aged wood to ground herself.

Vibrations travelled across the beam and down through the rope as Garreth clambered up a wooden ladder into the loft. There was a moment of rustling and a few mumbled incantations before a triumphant, "Aha!"

He stumbled out from behind a barrel, wrestling with the cork on an unopened bottle of firewhisky. "One thing about having a large family," he began, attempting to mask the strain in his voice, "is that you have to get creative with your hiding places."

"So, this is where you stash your treasure? Good to know."

"Nope," the word was punctuated by a pop as the cork shot out, chipping a battered beam in the process. "This is where my brother stashes his treasure."

"Oh, so you’re that kind of brother. That makes so much sense.”

“What kind?”

“A nosy little shit.”

He raised his wand in response, and the swing slowly began to pull back. She kept her cool until she reached the point parallel to the beam, at which she let out a shriek as her stomach lurched, and she plummeted. As the swing's momentum slowed, she came to a halt breathless and laughing.

"Stop hoarding the loot," she scolded as she emerged at the top of the ladder, finding him comfortably settled against a wooden beam swigging the stolen whisky. She swept aside a few strands of straw with her foot before settling down beside him.

"Come and claim it," he goaded, holding the bottle aloft and swinging it between two fingers.

"I thought you said no funny business."

"Unless you initiated it," he reminded her, "I'm just offering you the chance to kick things off."

On any other day, she would have suppressed the ache to clamber onto his lap, but the combination of a light buzz from the alcohol and him looking like that had left her defenceless. She didn't stand a chance. She intercepted the bottle as he raised it to his lips, taking it from his grasp and straddling his thighs. He seemed caught off-guard as if he hadn't expected things to go this far.

“You've got the talk down, but when it comes to walking the walk, you seem a little skittish," she teased, savouring the sharp burn of the liquid as it coursed down her throat.

His surprise vanished beneath a confident grin. "Skittish? I'm just savouring the moment." Though he sounded sure of himself, his eyes didn't quite meet hers as he reclaimed the bottle, taking a lingering sip.

Setting the glass down with a clink, he ran his hand up the length of her thigh. "I've got you all night, maybe I just want to take my time with you."

She attempted to mask her reaction to his expectations, but judging by the self-satisfied grin on his face, she didn't do a great job. "All night? This is news to me."

"Well, it's a blizzard," he remarked, tracing random patterns on the fabric of her dress. "I can't let you walk back to the village in this. I'm a gentleman."

"I thought your living room had a floo connection," she replied, feigning a mocking tone as she repeated his words back to him.

“It’s one way.”

"Shut up," her laughter was stifled by a gust crashing against the barnyard doors. She jumped, suddenly aware anyone could walk in and catch him nestled between her legs.

"Don't look so frightened. Granny Meryl is much less likely to walk in on you screaming my name out here than in my bedroom."

She despised how much that stupid joke had turned her on, his words winding through her brain and choking out any thoughts that weren't focused on how close he was. Close enough to count each of his freckles, and how she wanted to kiss every one of them. "You seem pretty confident in your abilities."

He hummed, trailing his fingertips along her jaw. "If you're curious, all you have to do is ask."

Her fingers weaved through his hair as she kissed him. A satisfied sigh escaped her throat before she could stifle it, and her toes curled when he seized the opportunity to slide his tongue against hers. She rocked forward against his hips as he pulled her closer, shamelessly grinding against him.

"What do you want?" he whispered painfully soft, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as he pulled her down, inviting her to feel more of him. He was thick and stiff between her thighs and when he rolled his hips up it sent a wave of sparks racing across her skin.

"I want this off," she demanded, tugging impatiently at the hem of his shirt, aching for the absence of any fabric between them. He briefly tore his lips from her skin to wrench it off and fling it aside. Her hands trailed over the contours of his skin, firm beneath a satisfying layer of warmth and softness.

"Your turn," he whispered, moving with painstakingly slow precision as he started to unclasp the buttons of her dress.

Timing couldn't have been more perfect, the snowstorm screamed through the cracks in the wood, but his skin was blazing against hers. Finding solace in the warmth, her freezing hands roamed across his body. Fumbling fingers traced a path downward, hungrily stumbling against his buttons.

"You haven't asked yet," he scolded, guiding her onto her back and settling between her parted legs. He took hold of her hands, rutting against them just once so she could feel how rock-hard he was before pinning them above her head with a sturdy hand. “I want to hear you ask for it.”

A surge of pride and a touch of defiance kept her from begging him to take her. After enduring months of chasing, the audacity for him to assume he would be in control of—

“Can I?” His whispered words in her ear shattered any semblance of self-preservation. He used his free hand to tease the fabric at the neckline of her unfastened dress with delicate fingertips.

She nodded with more eagerness than she'd initially intended as he peeled the fabric down her body. "See how easy it is to ask for it?" he teased, his palm brushing faintly across the sensitive curve of her breasts. Goosebumps erupted across her skin as he flicked his tongue against her taut nipple before taking it in his mouth, his velvety hum vibrating against her skin.

"Garreth," she tried to sound stern, but it escaped as a needy gasp.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

Embarrassingly, a hushed whimper shot up her throat as the affectionate name slipped off his tongue.

"Let go of my hands," her nails traced a path down the nape of his neck as he instantly complied with her demand. Abandoning any pretence of playing coy, she added, "I want it, I want you. Please."

The carnal groan that she’d coaxed from him shuddered through her and pooled between her legs. His fingers trailed up her thigh and slipped under the elastic of her underwear, eliciting a strangled whimper as he exposed the sensitive bud between her legs.

"That's it, moan for me," his touch transitioned from oversensitive to pure bliss as began he circling her clit.

"So... bossy—" Her words melted away as he slid his finger through the gloss on her skin and pushed it inside her.

"It gets you wet though, doesn't it?" he murmured, his lips latching onto her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut, head tossing back as she surrendered to the sensation of him filling her up.

Her fingernails carved into the worn-down grooves of the wooden floor as she ground against his hand. His face faltered as if his brain had shattered at the sight of her riding his hand. "Fuck, keep moving just like that."

His erection strained against his underwear, protruding from his partially undone trousers. He scrambled to free it with one hand while dipping his head between her legs. His tongue circled her clit while his fingers quickened their pace. It was an onslaught - merciless and precise, sending deep waves of pleasure winding through her body. His hungry grunts prickled against her tender skin as he began using his free hand to touch himself.

"I’m right here, you should use me for that," she whispered, watching him pleasure himself through giddy eyes.

"Come on my face, and I’ll let you have it," he slung her thighs over his speckled shoulders and began to devour her. His hands grasped at her plump thighs, pulling her tight against his eager mouth. She could faintly hear herself whining—yes, please, and don't stop.

"Oh, fuck, Garreth please," she begged louder, a shockwave coursing through her body as his fingers found their way back inside her. She clutched at his thick hair, bucking her hips against his face. He groaned appreciatively, and that eager sound forced her over the edge, her orgasm striking her like lightning. He delved his tongue inside her as she lazily rutted against it, riding out the surges of euphoria.

“Look at you, following orders," he grinned, crawling up to cage her in his arms, claiming her lips with a rough kiss, "being so good for me." He spread her legs apart with his knees and directed his arousal between her thighs. His dick gently brushed against her, and she shivered at the heightened sensitivity. "Are you ready, or do you need a moment?"

“I’m ready,” she mumbled as he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing in inch by inch. It was painfully slow and taunting, and when she tried to grab his hip, he interlocked his fingers with hers and pinned it to the floorboards.

“You want more, sweetheart?”

She couldn’t do anything but nod. The way he stretched her out felt sinful, a delicious form of sweet agony. He was vocal, each measured thrust was met with a rough groan and the noise scrambled around in her wonderfully empty skull. She arched as he gave her everything he had, he seamlessly slid his arm into the space left behind with an intoxicating roll of his hips.

"Right there, just like that," she whimpered as he struck a spot that sent shooting stars dancing across her vision.

His name dripped from her tongue like honey as he hit that spot again, driving him to thrust into her with increased force, each effort eliciting louder cries of his name.

"Oh, sweetheart, you feel like you were made for me." He came to a halt, buried to the hilt inside her as he worked a possessive love bite into her throat. "I've wanted this for so long," he confessed between each lingering suck, rocking his hips flush against hers. "Wanted you so bad. Fantasized about bending you over that herbology table. Making you scream."

She had never thought that words could bring her to the summit, especially not the words of Garreth Weasley who typically used them to irritate her. Yet, his rasping confessions were pushing her exceptionally close to the edge.

"Just—just.. stay like that," she pleaded. He was barely moving, but she felt on the verge of splintering apart from the way he was stretching her. His warm body pinned her helplessly to the ground and the unholy pressure of his cock deep inside her sent sparks radiating through her belly.

"You're trembling," he whispered as she fluttered around him. “You gonna come for me?”

"Yes," she whimpered, pulling him close for a kiss. He rocked into her and all she could do was moan as her orgasm slowly rolled through her body like a crashing wave. She had believed they were just two drunk friends giving in to some meaningless tension, but he was kissing her so slowly, stroking her face as he fucked her through each gentle pulse of her orgasm, and it was turning her to putty in his hands.

Wanting to contribute her share, she steadied her trembling legs and gave him a firm shove, rolling him onto his back.

He quickly established a pace she had no control over, gripping her hips to keep her in place so there was nothing she could do but take it. His mouth enthusiastically explored her breasts, kissing and sucking until she felt light in the head. "Do you want it?" The crack in his voice was almost too much to bear. "Want me to come inside you?"

She ran her nails through his hair as his thrusts began to falter and fall out of rhythm. "I want you to come. Please, Garreth I want it." She whispered soft encouragements in his ear, needing him to be as stimulated as had been.

He mumbled her name against her throat, his hips slapping vigorously against her soaked thighs. His head fell back, fiery red hair clinging to his sweaty temples as he grunted with each rhythmic pulse. She nestled against his warm chest, listening to the thunderous pound of his heart as he released deep inside her.

He wrapped her in his arms, and they lay together for what felt like an eternity—his fingers gently trailing through her hair might have even lulled her to sleep for a few minutes before he eventually shifted to reach for his wand.

“Sorry," he told her without a trace of remorse, muttering a few charms to clean them both up.

Clarity slowly returned to her mind, and thoughts rushed in like an avalanche. Should she head home? Was he genuinely suggesting she stay the night? Sticking around for Christmas felt intrusive. Maybe she should muster the will to get dressed and leave—as soon as her legs felt like legs again.

Casting a sidelong glance at Garreth, he seemed to be experiencing the same inner turmoil as she was, absentmindedly picking at his wand while staring down at her. In an effort to dispel the tension, she sat up and delicately kissed the red lines she’d carved into his shoulders.

"If you want this to be a one-time thing," he began, his voice carrying the same vulnerability she heard when he'd held her hand, "I can respect that, I'll take you home and everything between us is good. On the other hand, we could go pilfer a troll sack full of food, bring it to my bedroom, and just be humans together. What do you think?"

"How much is a troll sack?" she smirked, as she delicately brushed some sticky strands of hair away from his eyes.

"Enough to last a couple of days," his confidence began to seep back in as he flashed her a smile. "I don't have any plans for New Years, or you know, any of the days leading up to it."

Pretending to consider the proposition, she glanced at her reflection in a nearby bucket, using it to smooth out her hair. "I say we rejoin the party. I should probably make an effort to socialise if I’m going to be overstaying my welcome."

Authors note: If you're interested in the story behind Garreth turning himself into a baby, and subsequently carried around by Sharp all day, you can find "Baby Garreth, and where to find him" here.

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bloodycyrano · 3 months

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Here's what Team Tadpole would do for you for valentine's day!

Karlach: She would get you the absolute BIGGEST plushie she could find, and chocolates. Post-upgrades, she would cuddle the plushie for a few nights beforehand so it smells like her. She'd probably bring you to a carnival- One that *isn't* infested with shapeshifters this time -and try to take turns winning each other prizes.

Wyll: Wyll Ravengard spares no romantic gesture. He brought you your favorite flowers and decided to take you out dancing! He wanted to finish off the night with a romantic walk on the beach, but Mizora crashed your date, and now the three of you are playing board games because she wouldn't leave- Which Wyll isn't exactly happy about, but he's content as long as he gets to spend time with you.

Gale: Gale would probably make you a home-cooked meal in his tower back at home and absolutely shower you with affection and little magic tricks to dazzle the eyes. He's constantly seeking that approval, so you'd better believe he's going all out.

Halsin: Halsin would take you on a picnic in the prettiest part of the woods he could find, and surprise you with a special wild garden bed of your favorite flowers. He'd also have a whittled duck for you.

Shadowheart: Shadowheart would bring you a single night-blooming flower and a bottle of wine. She'd probably take you somewhere dark and secluded where you could simply spend the night enjoying each other's company, away from the rest of the world.

Astarion: Astarion is happy to do almost anything as long as he's with you. You stopped by his grave to leave flowers- A cute gesture he's likely become accustomed to. Perhaps he takes you out to dinner, or to a play he knows you've been wanting to see, but the real treat is when he takes you back home to cuddle and read together. Horror novels and shocking favorites only.- You wouldn't expect it, but he does voices for the characters if you get him to read out loud. His faked accents are awful, but it's cute.

Ascended Astarion: Awe, you didn't think I'd leave you guys out, did you? So. He's likely to do something flashier. A wine tasting, or maybe take you to get a new outfit tailored to fit you perfectly. It doesn't match anything you'd actually choose to wear, but it paints the perfect picture of the vampire consort trophy spouse he's decided that you are. He keeps setting up little things that you feel are supposed to make you happy, but it's filled with a harsh coldness and an empty stare. You've all but given up hope that the Astarion you know and love is still in there until the night comes to a close, and he brings you home. He's being strangely affectionate and sweet. Cuddly. At first, you take this as a sign of better days - until he won't stop biting you, no matter what you say or do. Eventually, he's taken so much blood that you pass out; and you wake up in your locked chambers alone with a pretty, expensive necklace and roses. No note. It doesn't even matter if roses are your favorite flower or not. He doesn't care.

Lae'zel: She didn't know Valentine's Day was a thing. She can't pronounce it and literally had no idea why everyone was making a big deal about the holiday, etc. She was, however, very surprised when you brought her a gift. She tried to seem uninterested in the whole "mushy, romantic stuff," but you could practically see her heart melt when you made a romantic gesture. You spent the rest of the day together - She probably tried to bring you out hunting or sparring.

Durge: Durge would either give you a mortal heart in a jar or a vial of their own blood, and disturbing poetry they wrote for you. They might try to get you to get matching tattoos with them, but they won't push you if you'd rather not. Aside from that, they might take you to a cemetery or a long lost ruin to bask in the macabre beauty of the space. They'd also bring brownies they made themself.- They were going to pack a picnic, but they didn't want to smother you; and they're really better at baking than they are at cooking.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate meme #astarion #bg3 durge #dark urge #gale dekarios #baldurs gate tav #lae'zel #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #halsin #karlach #valentines day #bg3 scenarios #scenarios #ascended astarion

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liesmyth · 4 months

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the locked tomb holiday exchange rec list

Behold! The good, the magnificent, the sad! The filth and the angst and the feelings! The weird shit that would make TazMuir proud! 💀🎉✨☠️🔥🎊

Here are some favourites from a skim of works posted for @tlt-holiday-exchange, both art and fic. They are MANY and they are JUICY. Find the entire collection HERE, and keep an eye on for authors reveal coming soon!

ART FILLS

A Beautiful Fairy Tale. Wake tells little Bomb a bedtime story but she can't mention a princess without talking about guillotines. Rated T.

Dubious Curiosity. Nona is curious. Nona loves everyone. And Nona wants Cam. (Camilla/Nona) Rated M.

Fingers In Her Mouth. Camilla Hect misses the Warden. Maybe he can lend a helping hand… even in death. (Camilla/hand!Palamedes) Rated M.

just guys being bros. Camilla/Gideon. Gideon touches a boob! A very happy new year to awkward butch lesbians everywhere. Rated T.

Pyrrha Dve Appreciation. Pyrrha & Nona, soft hugs! Rated G.

Stealing Breath. Camilla/Gideon butch-off make-out session. Rated G.

To Shreds, You Say? Pyrrha/Mercymorn/Wake fucking nasty. Rated E.

FIC FILLS

a buried and a burning flame. Coronabeth fucks Gideon's corpse. Rated E.

For all intents and purposes the corpse of the Ninth’s cavalier is a bad lay. That’s all fine, though.

a grave, deep and narrow. Camilla/Palamedes, GtN AU, Character Death, Tape Recorder Conversation Redux. Podfic included! Rated T

Only Lyctors were meant to leave the First House alive. Ianthe insists on bringing Coronabeth; Judith dies of her injuries. Camilla is stranded alone at Canaan House — alone, except for the persistent hallucinations of her necromancer.

affix. Coronabeth/Harrow, humiliation kink, improper use of bones, dom!Harrow, GtN era. rated E.

Cytherea doesn't go to Canaan House AU - Corona overconfidently approaches Harrow in the hopes of exchanging lab keys. Harrow humbles her quickly.

AITA for telling my dad I didn't like my birthday party? Gideon & John, In-Universe Social Media, Character study, Rated T.

I (20F) told my dad (45?M) that I wanted a cool birthday party, but he threw me a terrible birthday party instead. Am I really the asshole for telling him I didn't like it?

and kings shall come out of thy loins. Gideon/Ianthe, crack treated seriously, body horor, SNAKES. Rated M.

Ianthe saves God from the stoma and the River and all she has to show for it are these fucking snubes.

come, dearest heart. Lyctor Palamedes AU, HtN era. Camilla/Palamedes, Pyrrha/Palamedes, Pyrrha/Camilla/Palamedes. Rated E.

In Canaan House, Palamedes Sextus unwillingly ascends to Lyctorhood to put an end to Cytherea the First's rampage. He's left heartbroken, grieving, and terribly, terribly lonely.

Don't Care If You Think I'm Dumb (I Don't Care At All). Gideon/Ianthe, Gideon as Kiriona, Unwholesome Tower Princes Bonding ft. bad sex and retail therapy. Rated E.

The newly christened Kiriona Gaia is not having a good time on the Mithraeum. At least she has Ianthe there to make her worse.

Follow Your Dreams, Never Let Them Die. Gideon/Harrow, Pokemon trainers AU! Rated T.

On her Pokemon Journey, Gideon Nav approaches the mysterious Drearburh City Gym - but something feels oddly familiar.

Gaia's Natural Market. modern AU, retail hell, Harrow/Gideon, Harrow/Ianthe, Gideon/Ianthe. Rated T

RING-A-DING-DING, the Holiday's are here! And nothing says "Give!" like the bounty of the Mother Herself, so come on by to GAIA's Natural Market! Treat your family to a home-cooked meal with only the PUREST of ingredients - all Produce Organic, all Products non-GMO, and all Smiles Authentic and free of Toxins!

Good Girl. Coronabeth/Ianthe, puppyplay, muzzles, rated E.

Coronabeth is Ianthe's big dicked bimbo puppy. Ianthe's into it.

Goodnight, New Rho. Camilla & Nona. Domestic Fluff, Missing Scene. Rated G.

Nona gets a bedtime story. Camilla reminisces about growing up with an older sister. They both sleep well, despite a notable lack of dogs.

In the Empire of the Deeps. Gideon/Nona/Ianthe, Gideon/Ianthe, Pirate AU, monsterfucking-adjacent, Nona is an eldritch sea creature. Rated E.

A chance encounter on the beach. Ianthe is manipulative, Kiriona is sad, and Nona is not as innocent as she seems. Sometimes, you might yearn for one person and meet another one. Sometimes, you have to take what you can get.

just like normal. Ianthe/Coronabeth, Cytherea is also there. Penis in vagina sex, Exhibitionism, Squirting. Rated E.

Ianthe gives herself a cock, and Corona is increasingly bewildered that she hasn’t been allowed to sit on it yet.

language of its own. Camilla/Palamedes. Worldbuilding, idiots to lovers, pre-canon. Rated T.

Camilla Hect has to do an erotic poetry final.

Masochism Tango. Porn with feelings, knifeplay, vivisection, lyctor-typical everything. Rated E.

Two occasions in which Pyrrha Dve had the pleasure of being under Cytherea's knife, and Mercymorn had the pleasure of Pyrrha Dve.

METHODS OF SUBDUCTION. Judith/Cornabeth, Judith & Varun. Planetary science rizz. Rated M.

Varun the Eater teaches Judith Deuteros how to flirt.

midnight mass. Mercymorn/Cristabel, pre-canon, Character Study. Rated T.

A lifetime before the resurrection and two decades before the apocalypse, a novice nun and a third-year medical student discuss goodness, passion, and salvation at midnight on Christmas morning.

motherhood. Mercymorn uses flesh magic on Wake. Hate sex ensues. Body horror, motherhood as violence, canon compliant. Rated E.

“I will kill you,” you say, with all the placid fervor of a religious convert. When you’re on the edge of real violence, you lose that tense little furrow in your brow—it’s beautiful, really. “Please give me a reason.”

My Love Overflows. Corona/Ianthe, Strap-on, Dirty talk, Impact Play, Hair Pulling, Bladder control. Rated E.

The one in which Corona pisses all over herself at Ianthe's whims.

name and rank. Judith/Coronabeth, Judith & Varun. Judith's failwoman swag! Rated T.

As Judith lies dying, she has nothing but time. Varun the Eater uses it to teach her how to flirt with the Princess. Don’t worry. Varun has got this!

New Rule. Mercymorn/Pyrrha, Ranch AU, stablehand Pyrrha, boss/employee relationship. Rated E.

Never hire stablehands who are too handsome and capable for their own good.

no shade in the shadow of the cross. Cytherea/Mercymorn, angst, fisting, two pillow princesses NOT making it work! Rated E.

Cytherea and Mercymorn have an ill-timed tryst.

per my last email. Camilla/Palamedes. Academia, banter. On peer review and multitasking. Rated M.

“Warden,” she said patiently, “you want me so badly it’s making you stupid."

RISKING OUR LIVES FOR UNIVERSITY HOLE???? 🤯😳 University AU, Team 69. The hole is a basement to be clear! Rated T.

The difficult part of visiting the local haunted house for a feature in the university magazine is not actually the visiting; it’s the writing about it afterwards.

So Messed Up. Ianthe/Coronabeth. Puppy play, collars & leashes, tail plug. Rated E.

Ianthe using her flesh magic to give Corona a big cock for petplay because she loves the idea of her sister being a big dicked bimbo puppy girl who just wants to rut into her.

The Great Gamete Gambit. Camilla & Palamedes, Pre-canon, worldbuilding, sixth house reproductive practices. Rated G.

Palamedes and Camilla have an important package to send, but there's been a heist in the gamete repository! Can the 15-year-old Master Warden and his cavalier crack the case?

The Sextus Scandal. Camilla/Palamedes, Epistolary, Pre-Canon Divergence. Rated E.

Transcripts and documents relating to the disciplinary hearing and subsequent resignation of Master Warden Palamedes Sextus.

Ways to Be Perfect. Babs/Colum Asht, GtN era, Rated M.

When Naberius first glanced across the supper table at Colum Asht, he didn’t immediately get the impression that he was liked.

The end!

Thank you for making it this far. If you enjoyed any of these works, or anything else in the collection, please drop a comment to make our creators feel appreciated <3

[post creators reveal exchange wrap post]

#tlt fic #fic recs #tlt holiday ex 2023 #tlt fanfic #tlt fanart #tlt #the locked tomb #if you enjoyed these pls leave feedback on the collection <3 #and thanks to the mods for putting it all together #114 (!!!!) works now!!!

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221bshrlocked · 4 months

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Mistletoes in the Moonlight

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Words: 3669

Warnings: Mutual pining. Stubborn characters. Heated kisses ;)

Prompt: Fluff/Romance. Friends to lovers or neighbours to lovers. Feelings declarations sparked by something to do with the holidays (gift exchange, doing something cute together, a holiday party)

A/N: I tweaked the prompt a little bit but I do hope that you still like it @undercoverpena. I do apologize this is a few days late, the holidays are strange this time around. I owe you another story that I promised to write you so be on the lookout for that in the next few days as a bonus gift. And thank you @pedrostories for this cute Secret Santa challenge (and for being so patient with me).

The smell of freshly-baked cookies seeps into his nostrils as soon as he unlocks the gate of the apartment building. He doesn’t have to guess who’s baking the gingerbread treats, and with each step he ascends, he sends a silent prayer to whatever deity willing to hear him. The closer he gets to the apartment, the harder his heart beats against his chest. Never in his life did he think he’d become so nervous from the mere thought of being in someone else’s presence, but here he was, cursing Steve with each breath he took because of the mess he’s gotten him into.

Javier may not have been a very patient man, but he prided himself in how calm and collected he remained when things got out of hand.

The circumstances he found himself in now, however, were different. He wasn’t sure how much more he could handle, especially since you were involved. As he stands in front of the apartment door, he meditates on what he’ll say to you if you tried to get on his nerves again. It wasn’t that he disliked you, the opposite actually. It was the fact that you turned him on to no end, especially when you were staring daggers into him, and he could do nothing but retaliate in likeness.

“Your girl sure knows how to welcome you home.” Javier glances behind him and smiles at the man behind his current predicament. His current mission, or the one he signed up for thinking that he’d have a few weeks of peace, away from you.

“What can I say? I’m a lucky man!” Javier nods at him as he unlocks the door, purposely leaving it wide open to avoid any suspicions. He’s about to bid him a good night when he notices him taking his fill of something in the apartment. Following his line of sight, he clenches his jaw tightly in anger when he sees what’s gotten his attention.

You were bending over and grabbing a tray of cookies out of the oven, your shirt riding up your back and giving both Javier and the drug dealer an eyeful of your back. Javier can’t help but bite into his lower lip, watching in silence as you throw the hot tray on the stove before taking off the oven mitts and turning around. Turning around, you notice Javier standing at the foot of the apartment, and before you can say something snarky about how late he is, you see the target standing just behind him. Putting on the best smile you can muster up, you run towards him and throw your arms around his neck, kissing the corner of his lips and hoping he doesn’t realize how nervous you are from the proximity.

“Hey baby, I missed you.” You whisper loud enough for the target to hear, and for a moment, you think that Javier looks at your lips while licking his own. But it’s gone before you can even meditate on it, and just as you think Javier won’t respond to your touches, he wraps one arm around your back and digs his fingers into your skin, leaning down and kissing your neck before shifting his attention to the man witnessing your fake relationship.

“Don’t be rude cariño, offer the nice man some cookies.” Javier doesn’t realize he’s smirking until he sees the target dragging his eyes down your body. He tightens his grip around your waist, pulling you into his arms a little more possessively that he’d ever care to admit.

“Oh, how silly of me. Would you like some gingerbread cookies? I was so bored waiting for him and baked too many.” You think that Javier is being a little too touchy but you don’t complain, knowing that these moments are the only times you’ll ever get so close to him without raising too many flags that will make him suspect your feelings.

“I would, sweet thing, but I’m on a special diet. Girlfriend’s orders. Maybe you should watch it with the sweets too.” You know for a fact he’s trying to get under Javier’s skin, but before Javi can respond, you take it upon yourself to defend him. Not bothering to give the agent any warning, you roam your hands down his chest and rest it on his stomach, tapping it a few times before slipping the palm of your hand underneath the edge of his jeans. You’re far from appropriate, but you think this may potentially help distract him long enough for the guy to leave. You just hope he doesn’t bite your head off when the two of you return to the confines of the apartment.

“I don’t know about that, I like him just the way he is…besides, I have a thing for this.” You’re not sure what’s funnier, the man’s awkward reaction to what you just said, or the surprised gasp that escapes Javi’s lips silently as he stares at you with wide eyes while you remove your hand from beneath his jeans and grab his stomach.

“If you change your mind, there’s plenty to share.” Letting go of Javier, you step into the apartment and drag the DEA agent by his arm, pushing him to the side as you quickly get rid of the target.

“R-right, thanks.” You shut the door and lock it, sighing in relief at the unnecessary encounter before turning towards Javi. You wanted nothing more than to ask him why he was so late tonight, but you realize it may be in your best interest to say nothing since you’ve just crossed a million lines with him. Standing silently against the door, you wait for the onslaught of emotions the man in front of you will surely throw at you, but nothing comes, and when you raise your gaze to look at him, you find him staring at you with an unknown expression.

He doesn’t blink once, and it’s only when you lower your sight to the floor that you notice a slight bulge against the tight fabric of his jeans.

“I- I’m sorry.” There’s nothing more you can say, and you pray to the heavens that he sees how genuine you’re being because you’re not sure how you’ll survive the rest of this case if he doesn’t.

“He just got back, so finish up and pick up the surveillance.” His voice is far too calm to your liking, and a twisted part of you thinks it would have been better if he bit your head off instead of speaking in such a low tone.

“Okay.” You clear your throat and check on the last batch of cookies, not caring for how burnt they look as you take them out and put them beside the other pan. Taking the apron off, you shut the lights of the kitchen and move to the couch beside your colleague.

You glance at Javier once and find him deep in thought, and before you can stop yourself from blurting out an unnecessary comment, you lean over and grab the headphones off of the table, murmuring a sentiment you knew for a fact was a lie.

“Could’ve been spending the holidays with my parents instead of this...”

“Listen sweetheart, it’s not like I want to be here either.” Javier snaps at you, the sudden, angry comment making you flinch harder than necessary. You pout at him, completely missing the way he sighs in irritation at the expression on your face. He pushes his own headphones on one ear and shakes his head, hating how hard he still was from your earlier touches.

“I couldn’t have guessed that at all Peña, at all.” Javier rolls his eyes and tries his best to adjust himself without drawing your attention. He nearly groans out loud when he looks at you and sees your thighs peeking from underneath your skirt.

Fuck, he really was going to kill Steve when he sees him again.

“Why don’t you go and-”

“Shh, wait.” He starts to complain about your attire when you hold out your hand and shush him. The simple, dismissive action makes his blood boil and he’s about to throw the headphones aside and go at it with you again when he realizes why you silenced him.

“I don’t think they’re a couple.”

The two of you stare at each other as soon as you hear the target’s conversation with his companion.

“What?”

“I don’t think they’re a real couple.” Your heart begins to race at the claim, and you watch as Javier’s expression changes to one of worry.

“Why do you say that?” You hear the other man respond, and you push the headphones closer to your ear, afraid he’d reveal something you completely missed while playing along with Javier.

“Because if she was mine, I’d fuck her every chance I could get.” The comment sends an unwanted shiver down your spine, and you furrow your eyebrows in anger, refusing to make eye contact with Javi out of fear of giving him something he can tease you about.

“So?”

“So, they haven’t fucked once since they moved in. It’s been weeks.” At that, Javier snaps his head at you, making you look at him in return as he shakes his head before covering his face with his hand.

“You think they’re police?” You silently swear at the question, throwing the headphones onto the couch and moving away from the surveillance equipment to pace across the room.

“Nah, not police. Something more inconvenient.” Javier mirrors your actions and shuts off the mic, throwing his back against the back of the couch and massaging his temples at the new issue he just found himself in.

“Shit,” he curses out loud, biting his cheek as he sees you walk back and forth across the living room.

“No wait, we can use this to our advantage.” You stop all of a sudden, staring at him as you weigh your options. You’re not sure if you can share your idea with him, or how he’ll react if you do, but you figure it’s the only way you can get yourselves out of this problem.

“Come again?” He raises a curious eyebrow at you, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees in preparation for whatever you’re about to throw at him.

“Leave again tonight, and I’ll bring him some cookies and stretch out the conversation, maybe tell him that I found out you’ve been cheating on me. He’ll start flirting and we can use that to get whatever information we want.” You motion around with one hand as you place the other on your hips, trying your best to maintain eye contact with him just to gauge his reaction.

“No.” Javier says almost instantaneously, the firm rejection pulling at your heartstrings more than you thought it ever could.

“What do you mean no? It’s not like I’m actually going to sleep with the guy…although, it probably wouldn’t hurt if he lets his guard down.” You’re thinking out loud to distract yourself from the distaste his response left in your chest, but before you can try and explain yourself again, Javier is standing to his height and approaching you.

“I said, no.” If his stance isn’t menacing enough, the tone of his voice is, and you’re left wondering why he’s suddenly so adamant on not letting you actively take part in this mission.

“Tone it down Peña, or I’ll think you actually care!” You are sure what you said is far from the truth, but you can’t find it in yourself to accept the intention behind Javi’s words, least of all now when you need to figure out how to look less suspicious. You shake your head at him and grab the gingerbread cookies from the stove, heading towards the door of the apartment to set your plan in motion.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Javier follows behind you, his anger rolling off of him in waves now that he saw you weren’t planning on listening to him.

“Like I said, I’ll play along to avoid his suspicions.” You throw back at him, only to nearly drop the tray of cookies when Javier grabs your arm and stops you in your tracks. You look up at him and find his eyes swimming with fury.

“Let go.” You calmly request, and you watch as his muscles tense even tighter at the way you try to pull free from his hold.

“Javi, let go of my hand.”

“You’re not going anywhere near that pendejo.” You hate how much his assertiveness is turning you on, but you remember quickly that he’s only acting this way just to piss you off even more and not because he genuinely cares for your well-being.

“You’re not my boss, Javi.” You throw the tray of cookies on the table and try to step away from his grasp again but Javier’s grip is tight, and he chuckles at your sad attempts to loosen his hand.

“Watch your tone, sweetheart.” He knows what he’s doing. He knows he’s pissing you off with every little pet name he throws your way. But the more he teases, the angrier you become, and the harder he gets at knowing that he was the only one who got to see you so wound up.

“Make me, darling.” You mock in return, knowing that the nicknames got to him as much as they got to you, and before you can even blink, Javi is pushing you back until you slam against the wall. You swallow the lump in your throat at the sudden shift in air around the two of you. Sure enough, Javier has let go of you, but now he was cornering you against his solid, warm body and the cold wall of the strange apartment. You can’t find it in yourself to say anything, not when you were finally getting everything you imagined having with Javi ever since you met him.

“You’re not going out there.” His nose is flaring, and you can’t look away from him, not because he was overwhelming you with his presence, but because you were truly in a haze underneath his gaze. Javier was an attractive man, but when he was angry and impatient, his handsomeness jumped out and strangled everyone in his vicinity.

“And what if I did? What are you going to do about it?” You’re not sure how you managed to keep your voice in check this close to him, but you wait in silence to see what his next reaction would be.

Javier takes a deep breath to calm himself, but he feels his cock twitch in his pants when the scent of your perfume and the gingerbread cookies seeps into his nose. He remembers the way you touched him just a few minutes ago, and he tries to remind himself that this was just a lie. His life with you in this apartment was nothing but a ruse. He didn’t belong to you and you sure as hell didn’t belong to him, especially now when you were trying him and telling him all sorts of scenarios where someone else would get to fuck you.

Javier was not a stupid man, but having lived with you for a couple of weeks now, he’s turned into a fucking clown. You were everywhere, all the goddamn time and he was a simple man, a man who has thought of nothing else but the noises you’d be making when he slid his cock into your cunt.

Without thinking of the consequences of his actions, Javier drags his hand to the back of your head and tugs at your hair, not giving you a chance to react to his touches as he finally snaps and reaches for your mouth. You make a sound in the back of your throat akin to a groan, and Javier knows then that he’s lost this game a long time ago. He knows he should have walked away and told you to do whatever the fuck you wanted, but now that he knows what your lips taste like, and how melt into his embrace the harder he pulls on your hair and claims your tongue, he can’t find it in himself to regret it.

He feels your hands slide up his front and rest on his chest, and for a split second, Javier thinks you’re about to slap him and push him away. But when you do neither of these things, he sighs heavily and pushes his body against your own, wanting to feel as much of you against him as possible.

Tilting your head to the side, Javier slips his tongue into your mouth as soon as you part your lips for him, and before either of you stop to think of what you’re doing, you’re tugging at each other’s clothes and trying moving from the wall towards the bedroom.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you should ask him why he was suddenly all over you, but you brush the thought aside, not wanting to break whatever spell the two of you were under. As you unbutton his shirt, Javier reaches for your skirt and pushes it down your thighs, hands going straight to your ass and squeezing it hard.

The sound of glass breaking stops the two of you in your journey towards the bedroom, and you break the kiss to see what just happened only to feel Javier wrap his arms around you as he loses his balance and falls backward.

“Oh fffuck-”

“What the h-”

You shut your eyes as you look behind Javier and realize what was happening, bracing yourself for whatever bruises that were about to form. But Javier is much quicker than you and he makes sure he’s shielding you from the sharp ornaments and lit lights as the two of you fall. It all happens so quickly that neither of you have time to figure out how this happened, and when it all settles down, you open your eyes to check and make sure that Javier wasn’t hurt.

“Are you okay?” You spit out the fake snow and leaves that stuck to your lips, and try to get up from Javi, only to feel his hand push you into his chest and keep you there.

“FUck, that hurt. Don’t- don’t move. There’s glass everywhere and you’re-” He points awkwardly at your feet and your naked legs, and you find it endearing that he’s embarrassed to look at you now when he was nearly shoving his hands underneath your panties not a second ago.

Neither of you move for a few minutes, and when you swipe the broken lights and snow away from his chest as he slowly gets his senses back. You’re afraid to look at him, unsure of what you’ll find in his eyes now that the two of you were properly violently pulled out of your little fantasy.

“Are you alright baby? You hurt anywhere?” His voice is honey to your ears, and you nod at him, unsure of how your voice will sound if you attempt to speak now. Grabbing your waist, Javier holds onto you tightly as he slowly slides away from the fallen tree and the broken ornaments and lights, wincing in pain when he rests his hand on the floor and feels glass digging into his skin. You try to reach for him to see it but he shakes his head, wanting to make sure that you’re nowhere near the mess before he looks at his wounds.

You’re not sure what to think of the DEA Agent now, but you know that whatever happens after tonight, you’d tell him how you feel and let him decide what he wants from you.

As soon as you’re away from the mess, Javier lets go of you and checks his hands to see what the damage is. He’s surprised when you maneuver yourself around until you’re sitting in his lap and taking his hand in yours. His heart stops when he looks down and sees your nearly naked body straddling his thighs and nearly touching his still hard cock.

You examine the palm of his hand slowly, checking to see if there are any pieces of glass in his hand or if they just created indentations in his skin. When you don’t find any major cut, you look into his eyes and ask him again if he’s okay.

“Does this hurt?” You softly graze his hand with your fingers, and Javier doesn’t dare to look away from you, shaking his head as you continue to massage the irritated area.

Without thinking much of how ridiculous you look, you bring his hand to your mouth and slowly kiss along the lines on the palm of his hand, not breaking eye contact with him as you ensure to leave a sweet kiss on every inch of his skin. With each little peck, Javier feels his heart ready to explode out of his chest, and when you’re done, he wishes he was genuinely cut so you can continue to kiss him.

“Please don’t go.” He’s not sure why he feels the need to request this now, and he expects you to argue with him again, but unlike earlier, you shake your head and smile at him.

“I won’t.”

Knowing that it was now or never, he leans over and takes your lips in a chaste kiss, one that was less hurried and crazed than a few minutes ago.

“I’m not good with words querida, but I can’t let you go.” He whispers against the corner of your mouth, shuddering against you when you smile and lean into him more, arms going around his neck to force him closer into your neck.

“Then don’t Javi.”

Fewer words pass between the two of you as you move to the bedroom, but by the end of the night, you’re sure that there was nowhere else you’d rather be than right in that small, strange apartment.

#pedro pascal #javier pena/reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 4 months

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Hello! First of all, Merry Christmas and New Year, I wish you only the best and much prosperity 💫

And now with the idea, what do you think of a Daenerys Targaryen-style reader? An orphan from an overthrown dynasty who, when her husband dies, somehow manages to bring three dragons to life. The difference is that she ascended to Valhalla and her dragons (who are like her children) go with her and she meets (separately) with:

- Hades

- Poseidon

- Qin Shi Huang

Since they are kings and she was the one who restored their dynasty even after dying (as a detail, inc3st was not practiced in her family, they could tame dragons by magic) it would be interesting to see how the dragons carefully observe the men so that they do not overdo it with their mother (Oh how about Cerberus and the dragons know each other! Aww that would be cute) plus it would be funny because Zeus literally has one as a chair.

Very long but it's the idea haha, I hope you want to do it, it would be my birthday gift since I'm celebrating my birthday these days, I admired you and happy holidays!

Hello my dear one and happy birthday! I wish you a happy one and many more! I know who this character is but that’s about the extent of it (I never watched Game of Thrones- please don’t hate me) but with what you given me I will do my best! I hope you like it!

-With death came new life, just with the passing of the man you loved- the man you called your husband, you welcomed new life, managing to hatch three baby dragons, ones that saw you as their mother.

-You were an orphan from a once powerful dynasty, that was overthrown and you were taken by your husband in a chance to have your life spared, and instead of being a prisoner, you were treated as an equal by him, and you grew to love him just as he loved you.

-That’s why it hurt so much when he passed, your grief inconsolable, and the gift he had given you, three dragon eggs, that were centuries old, that never hatched, felt your tears as you wept over them, and from your tears, came your babies, your dragons.

-You became known as the Mother of Dragons, and your power and fame grew as you took over your husband’s dynasty after proving yourself worthy.

-You traveled all over the world, taking dynasties and empires from cruel leaders, ones who only saw others as steppingstones, while you saw them as equals, bringing empires back from the brink.

-You passed with your dragons by your sides, after someone assassinated you, wanting your power, and your dragons, taking their own revenge, killed the assassin and razed your empire to the ground, so none could have it.

-Your babies came with you to Valhalla, ascending alongside you as they chose to perish in the fires that they started, dying alongside you, not willing to be apart from their mother.

-You were regarded as a queen in Valhalla, many respecting you, especially other leaders, and seeing your dragons cemented that you were indeed very powerful, as you could control them with ease, but that made sense, since you were their mother.

-There were so many other kings and rulers in Valhalla, one’s that you had learned about in history, as well as gods who were considered kings, like Poseidon and Hades, ruling over the seas and the underworld, respectively.

-There was a vast difference between the rulers, like how they ruled, what part of the world or the heavens they came from, ages, powers, looks- there were so many, and now you were a part of that number.

-Hades- He met you through Cerberus, after your babies saw the giant hound and went to say hello, playing with him, and Cerberus’ barks were what alerted Hades to the ‘intruders’. He was surprised to see three young dragons playing with his watchdog, but his shock grew, seeing you across the way, looking so ethereal, smiling up at the dragons and the hound. When he came over, you bowed your head politely, introducing yourself and he bowed back, returning it and you were surprised to meet the ruler of the underworld. Hades was polite and kind to you, knowing your history and knowing your strength, he knew that you were very powerful and were not to be underestimated by any means. Hades sat with you, talking about random things, finding himself attracted to you, and your babies were watching this closely, not sure of this unknown man being so close to their mama. It wasn’t until Hades got a bit closer that your youngest came over, wedging himself between the two of you and cuddling you close, sending a glare to Hades, challenging him. Hades couldn’t help but laugh while you playfully scolded your baby, telling him off for being so rude.

-Poseidon- He wasn’t sure of what to make of the three dragons playing in the ocean by the shoreline, splashing around, having fun, but he heard the melodious sound of laughter, and his eyes were drawn to you. You were a vision of loveliness, smiling so brightly as you held your skirts up in the water, splashing around with your babies, giggling at their antics. At his approach your babies quickly went into defense mode, eyes locked on him as they all leapt in front of you, protecting you. You were quick to calm them, approaching, touching their heads gently, “It’s all right little ones, go back to playing.” You bowed your head to him, apologizing on behalf of your children. You were… unusual, for a human, you were respectful to him, but he could sense your power- you were a powerful warrior, and your command over your dragons was impressive, as Poseidon introduced himself to you and you did the same. Your babies were cautious with this unknown man but did nothing other than kept an eye on him as the two of you sat in the sand, after Poseidon asked to speak with you, wanting to know more about you- you intrigued him, and it wasn’t often another, especially a human, would intrigue him.

-QSH- He was one of the first people you met in Valhalla, after he had learned of not only your death but your ascension. You had not been expecting this unknown man to rush at you and sweep you into his arms, hugging you close while you squealed in surprise. Your babies did nothing, as they could sense that this person, although a bit odd, wasn’t going to hurt you- he was powerful and could be dangerous, but he wasn’t doing anything to harm you. Your face was bright red, not used to such affections as he pulled back before he kneeled before you, bowing his head, “Thank you Y/N- for saving my empire!” when he introduced himself to you, everything made sense, as you had thrown those in power out on their asses in his empire and you brought it back to its former glory and QSH was extremely thankful, as he had seen how many people you had saved. He was rather affectionate with you, something you weren’t used to from anyone other than your husband, but you soon realized what your babies had- that this was a good person. Your babies, however, didn’t like how close he was getting, and they would make sure to hang on you, nipping at him if he got too close, telling him to mind your space, being protective of you, which you thought was cute. QSH was going to work hard to win them over!

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror poseidon #ror hades #ror qin shi huang

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koushuwu · 6 months

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kiss me slowly

pairing: kageyama tobio x reader

word count: 1,9k

summary: tobio has been in love with you, his older sisters best friend for years. after all these years, he's feelings are strong as ever when he comes back home to japan during the holidays, and mistress luck turns out to be smiling upon him.

tags/cw: fluff, kisses, best friends younger brother!kageyama tobio, mutual pining, not beta read, also not edited we die like neji. bare with me, i'm concussed and wrote this thing on paper before hastily typing it in here.

the first time kageyama kissed you, he might have sworn he could’ve passed out right then and there. maybe he already had. maybe he’d passed away and ascended to heaven. that was probably it, because your lips against his felt like nothing short of his own personal heaven.

kageyama tobio had loved you from afar for years upon years, but he’d never known how to convey these feelings to you. it was a wondrous feeling. intoxicating. but it also hurt. it ached so deep and heavy in his chest that when he was younger, he’d sometimes wished he’d never met you at all. wished that his sister had picked a different best friend.

as he grew older, those wishes seized. although he would sometimes still wonder if it’d been easier. better. if he’d never known you. as if that choice had ever been his to make. he did wonder, but after moving to italy in pursuit of his volleyball career, those thoughts subsided, along with the memories of you.

that was at least what tobio though, but then came around the first holidays where held been able to travel back to japan, since joining ali roma. they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. it wasn’t a saying that tobio had ever really given any thought. at all. but then he crossed the threshold of his childhood home, removed his shoes in the genkan, stepped inside, and there you were. he knew that miwa was going to be home as well. for some reason though, despite knowing that you and his sister were still very much attached by the hip, he hadn’t expected to see you standing right there. in his kitchen. smiling. at him. and talking. to him. shit. you were talking to him.

“— grown so much! welcome home!” and as you rounded the table and pulled him into a hug, all he could muster was one single breathless word.

“… yeah.”

when you pulled back, he thought for a spilt second that you lingered, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read. but then you were already stepping back towards the kitchen counter and he must’ve imagined it. he must’ve. but he knew that he hadn’t imagined the way his heart hammered in his chest and his palms got clammy.

“still quite the talker, hm?” you chirped. “i’m preparing snacks for miwa and i. you want any?” okay. so maybe his feelings had never really subsided after all. instead, they’d been buried deep inside, during a time where he hadn’t been faced with these feelings and the subject of them, close to every single day.

throughout tobio’s time back in japan, things only got worse. or maybe they got better? tobio had no way of knowing at the time, how the ache is his chest would soon be soothed. all that he knew was that you hung out with miwa on the daily, and seeing you that often was both a blessing and a curse. more often than not, you and miwa would insisted that he joined. that he watched movies with the two of you. had drinks with the two of you. spent time with the two of you, interrogated about his life in italy. and he did. because as much as it hurt, he still wanted to spend as much time with you as he possibly could. be as close as he could. but in doing so, tobio found it harder and harder not to think about you. he shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. he shouldn’t. but the thoughts and the desires kept intruding on his brain and he knew that he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop.

gradually, you started spending even more time at the house, even when miwa wasn’t home. some foolish part of tobio’s brain couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you came around for him. couldn’t help but hope that that was the case.

on that particular day, he almost convinced himself when you knocked on the door to his room. almost.

tobio was splayed out on his bed, tossing a volleyball into the air. over and over. toss. catch. toss. catch. toss. catch. it helped him focus. helped him remember the feeling against his fingertips. even more so, it helped him keep himself together in your presence.

“where’s miwa?” he asked, eyes trained on the ball. as if he wasn’t the one living under the same roof as her. as if you were the most likely to know. but truly, mostly because whenever he talked to you, his brain went blank. completely and utterly, and his tongue desperately tried to compensate, which always turned to questions like that.

“out. probably still at work, i think,” you said, shrugging. toss. catch. that made sense. toss. catch.

“oh. yeah.” toss. catch. toss.

“i can go if you’d rather be alone.” catch.

“no i–” his tossing halted for a moment as he looked at you. “stay,” he said. he didn’t want you to leave. he lowered his arms, ball still perched on the tips of his fingers. he wanted you to stay. and he wanted you to keep smiling at him like that. and you did.

“alright,” you said, leaning back in the chair you’d occupied since you’d come into his childhood room. there’s a short pause, but you never stop smiling as you look into his eyes. he wants to look away. he doesn’t want to look away. ever. “italy sounds magical,” you then said. he nodded but didn’t say anything, tongue tying on knots as he took you in. “does it ever get lonely all the way over there?”

“I–” that was unexpected. he thought it over for a moment. tossed the ball back into the air, and caught it as gravity did it’s thing, pulling it back down. “hm. maybe sometimes.”

“you know, if you’re lonely, miwa and i would love to come visit.” did you know how his heart hammered in his chest? did you realize how much he wanted you to visit him? did you have any idea just how much he wanted you, and just you? toss. catch. toss. catch. “tobio.”

“hm?” he hummed. toss. catch.

“if you don’t stop tossing that ball while i’m talking to you, i’m going to steal it.” toss. catch. he stopped again. looked over at you. hadn’t even realized when he’d looked away. when he’d started tossing the ball again. it just happened.

“sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“if you don’t want me to come, that’s fine btw. you don’t have to–”

“no.” he didn’t mean to be so stumped in his answers. but he couldn’t help it. his brain was spinning with the thought of you in his apartment in italy. you in his kitchen. you in his living room. on his couch. in his bed. he shook his head. toss. catch. “i would love that.” toss. catch. toss. catch. you moved beside him. his gaze flicked to you, the moment the ball was in the air. the split second before you were on him.

“told you i’d steal it!” you exclaimed, pouncing to snatch the ball out of the air. tobio had no idea what happened next. or more like, he didn’t know how it happen. one moment you were going for the ball, the next you were falling. you were falling. onto his bed. onto him. panicked, he reached to catch you as you crashed against him. the ball smacked against the wall as tobio’s large hand had slapped it out of the way in his attempt to break your fall. which he had. with his body.

“oompf.”

it was quiet for a moment, except for the volleyball bouncing on the floor a couple of times before it continued it’s adventure, rolling until it came to a halt against the opposite wall.

“i’m sorry,” you said lifting yourself up on your elbows. “are you okay?” you didn’t move to sit up. you didn’t. maybe because tobio’s hands were splayed out over your spine. or maybe you just didn’t want to. you looked into his eyes, the air around you seemingly growing heavier by the minute.

“i’m okay,” he said. the silence stretched. he should probably say something. he should let go of you. he should ask you to get up. he should. he should. he should. but he didn’t. he didn’t, because he didn’t want to.

“are you going to kiss me?” you asked, the question hanging in the air, charged. he wanted to. his lungs felt completely void of air. he couldn’t. he shouldn’t. he wanted to. so badly.

“no.”

“i’m sorry.” you pull back when the rejection leaves his lips, but his hold around you tightens. he doesn’t want to hold you back. he really doesn’t. but he can’t let you go. not when– you look away and his chest aches again. more than it’s ever done before. “it’s okay. of course you don’t want to. i’m sorry!” for being so forward. for making it awkward. for falling on you, for assuming– tobio heard all the things you didn’t say in that one single apology.

“it’s not that i don’t want to–”

“it’s fine,” you blurted out, cutting him off. the muscle in his jaw ticks. he can feel it. he doesn’t mean it. but you’re misunderstanding him and he never hated his poor communication skills more than he did that very moment. “you don’t have to explain.” he brushes his knuckles against your jaw before his palm settled on your cheek, turning your head back to face him.

“i want to,” he said. “you have no idea how much i want to. how long i’ve– but i know that i won’t want to stop if i do.”

“okay,” you said. it was quiet for another moment as you looked at each other. “okay, well. that’s good. because maybe i don’t want you to stop.” tobio found his eyes growing wider at your admission. the first time kageyama tobio kiss you, it was actually more you the kissed him. as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his, tobio found himself scared that this was but a dream. that one wrong movement would have you vaporizing and disappearing from. but the press of your lips were so soft. so tender. the hand left on your back fisted in your shirt. clinging on for dear life as his lips finally moved against yours. he’d passed away and gone to heaven. there was no other explanation for what was happening right now. it was sweet. it was magical. it was perfect. it was you. he pulled you closer and you obliged. it was– it–

“finally!” miwa’s cheerful voice echoed in tobio’s room, and startled the two of you pulled apart. shock painted in your features as well as his. but kageyama miwa looked nothing but happy to have caught the two of you kissing. the smile on her face said it all. and then– “took you long enough. anyway, finish up soon, okay? i brought dinner.” she turned and left.

the second time kageyama tobio kissed you, was only mere moments after the first. he was smiling. you were smiling. the heavy atmosphere had lifted but the magic was there. the second time tobio kissed you, it was quick and full of wonder. like the promise of many more to come. and while tobio knew he was going back to italy soon and the ache of leaving you behind was overwhelming, at least he knew that he could be looking forward to you visiting him when he inevitably started feeling lonely without having you close.

*:･ﾟ✧ thank you for reading ♡

#fanfic #kageyama tobio #best friends younger brother #best friends younger brother!tobio #kageyama tobio fluff #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio x reader fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #DONT LOOK AT ME I KNOW I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING AT SCREENS RN BUT HELLO????#kags was knocking down the doors in my brain #held me at gunpoint until i wrote it #useradrienne #just bc #ily <3

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fatehbaz · 1 month

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taking relentless severe psychic damage from watching several hours of videos of television commercial advertisements from the United States in December 1999.

a world-historical moment, an all-time high peak of self-assured smirking arrogance.

ascendant home computers and internet modems. a new millennium! a time after Cold War but before Nining Leven, with saxophone-playing heads of state and cheery Spielbierg-ian sentimentality attempting to plaster over 1970s/1980s disappointments and hangovers with renewed millennarian End-Of-History optimism.

come celebrate with us! look at these images of The Nation! from sparkling Times Square and the cast of "Friends" in bustling cosmopolitan New York City, to sunny Californian prosperity, to those cartoonish frogs in the quasi-mythical Deep South-ish rural periphery of Budweiser ads, and all the suburban Midwestern Kay's Jeweler's in between! planetary hegemony. "Head east from the Colosseum, across the ruts of chariots, and you'll find an imperial estate built by a second-century Caesar. It's a rough ride. And if the agile and durable Chevy Tracker can handle these ancient roads, driving back home will be a walk in the park. Chevy Tracker: It Gets Around!"

or perhaps "our" power extends beyond this terrestrial imperium, into space, conquering the stars. UFOs; space aliens; The X-Files; Independence Day; Space Jam; Men in Black; the Phoenix Lights; Coast to Coast AM on the radio; Space Command in Colorado Springs.

the anxious fragility belied by the desperate constant promotion of an almost religious dedication to recognizable icons.

talking chihuahuas, marketing jingles, annual football game events. self-referential circular cross-promotion maelstrom.

"An all-new holiday spectacular, a Christmas special destined to become a family classic! With music from REM's Michael Stipe, voiced by Ally McBeal's Peter MacNicol, and starring Drew Barrymore! It's Olive the Other Reindeer! At 8/7 Central Fox Friday!"

trying to insist that this "classic" cultural iconography binds us. it has always lived in your heart. fabricating in real-time a supposedly shared history, insisting on this "reality" even at the moment of its very creation. hammering away at the soul.

Daffy Duck saunters in and pronounces: "Eat your way into the new millennium with this 'gigundo' party sub from Subway!"

why aren't you smiling?

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devildomwriter · 4 months

Text

Deck the Halls With Boughs of Holly | Barbatos x Reader

.7K Words | GN Reader | CW: none, slightly Nsfwish

Barbatos was at the top of the ladder with boughs of holly in hand. He sighed as he hung the hundredth bunch and looked down the long corridor he had left.

The Little D.’s scrambled beneath him also trying to quickly hang the boughs. Barbatos wanted it done as soon as possible so Diavolo had as much time to enjoy the holiday spirit as he could.

Barbatos descended the ladder and moved it to the next window when a grin crossed his face. He turned around and bowed politely, “___ what a happy surprise. What brings you to the demon lord’s castle?”

You grinned and hugged him, “we've been dating for months, when will you stop being so formal?” You asked.

He chuckled and shook his head, “Old habits I suppose. Is there something I can help you with today?”

You shook your head. “Just the opposite. I wanted to help you decorate.”

He looked surprised but it melted into a pleased grin. “Oh my. How kind of you, ___.”

He eyed the boxes yet to be emptied and decided it would be okay to accept your help as long as it was really what you wanted.

He nodded and handed you a box with several bunches of holly. You started laughing and he gave you a puzzled look.

“I finally get to deck the halls with boughs of holly,” you chuckled.

Barbatos shook his head. “Oh, is that why you wanted to help?”

You quickly protested, “No, not at all. It was a funny coincidence that’s why I was laughing.”

Barbatos decided you were telling the truth and ascended the ladder again to continue where he left off.

You turned around and Little D. no.3 and Little D. no.6 brought you a ladder and scooted it to the correct spot.

“Will you hold it for me?” You asked them and they nodded. They were glad to have an excuse to stop running around. Little D. no.7 looked upset he hadn’t offered as he was most tired of them all.

Barbatos clicked his tongue in disappointment and the Little D.’s quickened their pace while their two brothers had a chance to relax by the ladder.

“Are you alright up there?” Barbatos asked, looking back every couple of seconds to make sure you hadn’t gotten scared.

It was a pretty tall ladder but you had the magic to support your fall so it didn’t worry you. A thought occurred to you and you sighed deeply. Barbatos turned back around to inquire if you were alright.

“Why aren’t we just using magic…”

He shook his head. “Did you forget it’s Devil Down Day?”

“Oh, is that today?”

Barbatos sighed and shook his head. “I hope you haven’t been using your magic, that would be a big problem.”

You shook your head. “Not unless getting here counts because that started in the human world technically.”

He nodded in approval, “I suppose that doesn’t violate anything.”

You smiled, relieved you weren’t in trouble with anyone, especially Barbatos. It was no secret you were fond of each other but he was a stickler for the rules even when you were involved so you had to be very careful to avoid breaking any.

“It always has some bad timing doesn’t it?”

Barbatos nodded, “it did nearly kill you last time if I recall.”

You chuckled nervously. “Yeah…don’t remind me.”

He descended the ladder and dismissed the Little D.’s holding you up to grab the ladder himself.

You began to descend when your foot missed a step. Barbatos’s eyes widened and he took a step up to catch you by your hips. You gasped and he carried you down even though it wasn’t necessary.

“Perhaps you could hold the ladders instead.”

You blushed, embarrassed. “Th-that was just an accident.”

“Well I should hope it was an accident and you weren’t falling on purpose so I’d carry you,” he teased and your face reddened.

“Huh?”

“If that were the case I may have to punish you for taking me away from my responsibilities,” he gave you a mischievous grin and you blinked in surprise.

Did he really mean what you think he meant? He was good at teasing you and denying it later, which you were already used to thanks to Lucifer.

“Wh-what kind of punishment?” You stuttered and it was his turn to laugh.

“What an adorable expression. Would you like to find out?”

You nodded and he beamed. He ordered the Little D.‘s to finish the decorations themselves and carried you away to his room.

You were “punished” until morning, though in your opinion it was more of a present. It was the perfect way to begin the holidays

#obey me drabble #obey me 25 days of christmas #obey me nsfwish #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #omswd Barbatos x reader #obey me x reader #25 days of obey me christmas #obey me ficlet #omswd Barbatos

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thechaoticdruid · 2 months

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[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant] (3)

Pairing: Astarion (s) x Tav

Plot: We get a look at Ascended Astarion and M! Tav's complicated past. Meanwhile in F!Tav's world, she has a close call with The Vampire Ascendant himself all the while Spawn Astarion and Karlach prepare to attack the Crimson palace.

Content/Warnings: MDNI, THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER! M/m smut, oral and anal sex, I'll put some little red diving lines so you can skip it because it's not TOO important to the plot, but I just thought since y'all have been waiting forever for the next part I might as well treat you. Both a male and female Tav, alternate timeline shenanigans, Ascended Astarion is a toxic asshole as usual, emotional manipulation, verbal abuse, threats, etc, slight choking, there's also a lot of blood and gore in this part, lots of violence and action.

Part One

Part Two

Part Four

The Spawn Vs Tav Vs The Ascendant

[Savegame 2: Somewhere, A year post game]

Tav let out a sigh as he felt a cool breeze hit his face, the scent of the forest washing over his heightened senses. He could smell the blood of a deer who was leaping through the grass. He turned his head to look at it, tongue flicking over his newfound fangs. It had only been a year since his undeath, but everything had already changed so much.

The young vampire had finally convinced his master to allow him to travel outside of Baldur's Gate. Tav needed to get away from the city so he could enjoy the comforts of nature once again even though many of his fellow druids would sneer at what he'd become. An undead abomination. He was able to convince The Vampire Ascendant to allow him to leave their city, insisting that this would be a romantic getaway for the two of them.

They had left Baldur's Gate and used the fortune they acquired to purchase a lovely little holiday home on an island off the Sword Coast.

Their villa sat on the border of the ocean shore and the luscious woodlands that stood behind it.

Tav sat crisscrossed in the sand, the warmth of the sun danced up on his skin. He was quite fortunate to still be able to enjoy it, given what he was.

“Little Love, what are you doing out here alone?” His master's voice purred out.

“Just enjoying the peace.” Tav replied calmly. He didn't feel like looking his master in the eyes. Things had been distant between them now. Tav did his best to try and keep Astarion from turning Baldur's Gate into a slaughterhouse, but occasionally he slipped up, like with the incident at Sharess's Caress.

There were so many days he wished he could just go back and convince his love not to go through with the ritual. Then maybe the warmth they once shared wouldn't have gone out. But he'd been terrified at the time. They both had. Astarion was afraid of losing his freedom. And Tav was afraid so desperately afraid of losing him. If only he'd known he would have lost him anyway.

Now Astarion was the worst version of himself, all of his darkness let loose for the entire world to see. And Tav was merely a plaything that he refused to give up. The vampling’s red eyes blinked as his master’s clawed finger tilted his chin up to look at him.

“Pet, you know I don't like when you avoid me. It makes me so very unhappy.” The Ascendant pouted, making a painfully fake sad face. It made Tav’s blood boil. Tav jerked his head away from his master's touch.

“I am at your side day and night. You sit me on your lap every day like a glorified pup for all your guests to see. Am I not even entitled to my own space just for a moment!?” Tav suddenly snapped, fangs bared as he narrowed his eyes.

“You're the one who suggested this ‘romantic getaway’ and now you have the audacity to accuse me of not giving you space!? How dare you! You ungrateful little wretch!” Astarion snarled at him. “If you want your fucking space so badly I can arrange a nice dark cell for you back at the palace.” His master threatened.

“No….I-I…Please….I'm sorry!” Tav's face suddenly filled with fear. “….I'm sorry…. I'm sorry…I'm sorry…” Tav grabbed hold of Astarion’s leg, his head hung as he begged. Astarion glared down at him, his expression unimpressed.

“You will make this up to me.” Astarion tilted Tav’s chin back up.

“Yes. I will….I promise…” Tav nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Appeasing his master had become a regular routine of Tav's. He pretty much had it down to a science. Beg, grovel, flatter, pleasure, usually one or a combination of them would do the trick to calm the beast. Funny how Astarion seemingly had no regrets about turning Tav into the very thing he despised being for so many years.

The only saving grace was Astarion was far too possessive to share Tav’s body with anyone else.

“I love you Tav. I can't fathom why you're determined to make things so difficult between us.” Astarion pushed Tav down on the bed with one hand. The spawn frowned. His master's words felt empty despite how much Astarion may have believed them himself; there was little proof to back them up. Tav removed his shirt, deciding it would be best to just give in and lose himself in pleasure if only for a little while. He slid down his trousers and drawers, completely exposing himself in front of the other male.

Astarion lifted his own shirt up and over his head before discarding it to the side. He then climbed onto the bed and slowly straddled his spawn. He leaned down, getting very close.

“Kiss me.” He ordered. Tav leaned up and pressed his lips against Astarion's, wrapped his arms around his neck as his master began to grind himself against Tav's unclothed groin.

Tav moaned against Astarion's lips, letting the vampire lord slip his tongue inside. Astarion tastes Tav’s mouth, the flavors of wine and blood intertwining as their tongues dance. Astarion pulls back and pins Tav’s wrists above his head before slowly shifting down and licking the spawn’s nipples.

“A-Astarion!” Tav let out a whine, feeling the elven male teasing his sensitive buds, grazing them with his fangs all the while grinding himself down against Tav's hardening member. Astarion began to nibble and suck his way down Tav's body leaving a trail of bright red hickies as he went.

Astarion moved back, hand grasping Tav's cock as he licked his lips, looking down at his pet’s leaking tip.

“So hard for me already?~” Astarion teased gently, squeezing Tav’s length as he pumped it back and forth in his hand.

“Ngh!” Tav groaned and dug his claws into the bed. Astarion leaned down to lick up the precum dribbling down from Tav's tip, before slowly proceeding to begin sucking the younger man’s cock into his mouth. Tav's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt his master swallow his length with ease. Astarion’s hand moved to grab hold and massage Tav's balls as he bobbed his head.

Tav groaned and panted, resisting the urge to thrust into his master's mouth lest he gets punished for it like last time. Astarion pulled back with wet pop before rubbing Tav's cock a few more times and dropping his own trousers.

Tav's red eyes trail over his lover’s body as the silver haired male began to suck his fingers into his mouth, coating them thoroughly in saliva before he reached behind himself and stuck two fingers up his ass.

“Ahh…Ahh…” Astarion moaned, pumping his fingers in and out. Tav bit his lips, he could feel himself twitch at the sound of his master's moans.

Gods it sounded so heavenly. The pale elf continued to prepare himself scissoring before then shoving his middle finger in knuckle deep.

Once he was ready, he shifted over Tav's cock, grasping it and slowly guiding the tip to his hole.

Astarion lets out a low moan, an open mouth smirk forming on his face as he sits down, taking the spawn's cock deep inside.

“G-Gods….” Tav gasped, feeling his lover clench tightly around him. Astarion stared down at Tav, a pleased look appeared on his face as he noticed his pet squirming under him. Tav reached over to grab Astarion's hips, but the vampire lord stopped, gripping his hands.

“Tut, tut, tut, bad boy. You don't get to touch me.” Astarion clicked his tongue. “Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise.” He ordered, before releasing him and placing his hands on Tav's chest. Slowly he began to move up and down, sliding Tav’s cock in and out of his ass.

“A-Astarion….” Tav whimpered, his nails gripping the sheets as Astarion kept up the same pace, bouncing on top of him. He eventually began to move up slowly before quickly slamming his ass back down on Tav's hips, making a satisfying slap sound and causing Tav to squeak in surprise.

“Mmmm…..You feel good inside me…” He lets out a breathy side before moving up and slamming back down. He could feel Tav's cock leaking, coating his insides, it made movement much easier. Astarion began to pick up his pace repeatedly slamming down on Tav with enough force that it almost felt like he was about to break his pelvis!

“Please…I..ahhh!” Tav cried out, looking up at his master with pleading eyes as his cock began twitching inside of him.

“What is it, pet? Do you want to move, hm?” Astarion pushed down hard against his lover, taking him in deep. He bit his lip, smirking down at Tav. “I…. might let you…” He said, playfully taking hold of Tav’s nipples and tugging on them.

“A-Ahh!” The spawn cried out.

“Say you're mine.” He said. Tav groaned as Astarion slowed his movement, hips sliding up and down at a much slower pace, the room was almost silent aside from the slick wet sound of Astarion riding Tav's weeping cock.

“Say you're mine.” The Ascendant repeated. There was no compulsion, no glow of red eyes, no force. Astarion wanted Tav to say it all on his own.

“I…I…I'm yours…” Tav breathed out, making his master grin widely.

“Again.” Astarion slammed himself down on Tav.

“I'm yours!” Tav said more confidently.

“Good boy! ~ You may move…mmm…” As soon as Astarion gave him permission Tav began to buck his hips upwards, cock repeatedly plunging up into his master's asshole. Astarion rode Tav in time, masterfully matching his pace. He grabbed hold of the back of his spawn's head, gripping his hair as he pulled him in for a rough, sloppy kiss. It took little time from there for Tav to reach his peak, especially with his master's ass threatening to break him.

The two of them relaxed for a while shortly afterwards until eventually Astarion had Tav pinned face down in the pillows, balls deep in his ass. However, the second round was eventually cut short by a disturbance in the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW-END~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Masters! Masters!” A charmed servant called beating on the door to their bedroom. His face was full of fear, hands shaky.

There was some muttering, and scuffling coming from the other end of the door, before eventually it opened revealing Astarion shirtless in only his pants. Tav laid on the bed behind him, only a sheet covering his dazed form as he panted, body covered in his master's love bites.

“What the hells do you want!?” Astarion snapped, very annoyed by the interruption.

“M-My lord! Theres a-a…It's t-terrible.. I-I….” The poor terrified man.

“You have ten seconds to speak before I splatter your innards all over the floor.” The sliver haired vampire lord hissed out.

“M-Monster hunters! T-They're on the island! They're harassing the locals and burning down their homes in hopes to find you, master!”

“Determined little shits, aren't they? I don't quite care what happens to the peasants on this little speck of land, but they do pay me rent so...”Astarion sighed in annoyance.

“We have to help them.” Tav said, putting his clothes on and fixing his hair.

“Oh, not this again! You know your little hero act gets so tiresome, love.” Astarion rolled his eyes, “protect the cattle if you must, but my only concern will be slaughtering these vagabonds for even thinking about setting foot on my property.”

Tav kept quiet but glared at him harshly. The way he talked about the people on this island honestly made Tav's stomach turn.

“As you wish, master.” Tav said coldly, the title spoken with pure disgust. Astarion glanced back at Tav with a surprised look. Tav had never addressed Astarion as ‘master’ before. Astarion, despite all his arrogance, pride, and determination to remind Tav who he belonged to on a regular basis, had never once compelled or ordered him to to refer to himself as such. Mostly because the way Tav had always said the vampire lord’s name had been music to his pointed ears. Astarion quickly brushed off these sickening feelings. He was not weak any longer. Such sentimentalities were beneath him.

“Hmm…Perhaps I should put their heads on spikes, leave some of them impaled out in the fields to send a message to any of their brethren.” Astarion chuckled darkly. His ruby red eyes glanced back over at Tav who refused to look him in the eyes. It felt infuriating.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The roads ran red with blood, houses shot up in a blaze and a mother ran across the scene, desperately dragging her children along with her. Tav and Astarion slowly approached the chaos. Complete and utter horror flashed over the vampire spawn’s face. His undead heart breaks to pieces at the site of villagers being slaughtered all for the sake of killing two vampires.

“This chaos has to end Magnus!” An elven woman shouted at a human man. Both of them appeared to be amongst the monster hunters.

“There are children on this island for fucks sake!”

“They had their chance! These people are servants to the undead! They will suffer the same fate as their masters!!!”

“My love, please!” She begged, getting on her knees. “These people did not kill your brother! They're not in control of their minds! It's the vampire’s doing! You must forgive them!”

“Osha…I-I…” The man suddenly froze. He coughed, blood pouring out of his mouth before suddenly he fell flat on his face. Blood leaked from an open wound in his back as he laid in the dirt.

“MAGNUS!!!!” The elven woman shrieked in horror.

The silver haired vampire lord stood behind the man's corpse, a wicked grin as he held Magnus’s still beating heart in the palm of his hand. He slowly crushed it right in front of the elven woman, the blood dripping through his fingers before he licked them clean.

“Mm…Not bad.” Astarion purred.

“You…. YOU KILLED MY HUSBAND!” Osha screeched. Astarion looked back at her slightly amused.

“Oh, was that what he was? Apologies, he was making a mess of my things.” The Vampire Ascendant merely chuckled.

“I'll…. I'll KILL YOU!!” Osha screamed, grabbing hold of a wooden stake from her dead husband's body and rushing for Astarion head on. But before she could even make contact Tav moved in front of her and kicked her away with enough force to send her flying into one of the houses. Tav huffed before looking around at the villagers who were utterly terrified. Astarion blinked and looked back at Tav, a slight warmth flashing through his eyes.

He still loves me….

Before Astarion could say a word Tav ran off, unsheathing scimitars from his back and cutting down any monster hunter who dared to try and stop him. The elven monster hunter’s eyes follow him as she lays on the ground, seemingly broken and lifeless.

“Glacious!” He shouted, shooting an ice knife right at the nearby burning building before kicking his way through the door.

“Everyone out now!” He ordered. A mother pushed her daughters through the door.

“My son! He's still in his crib!” She cried and pointed over to a blocked door.

Tav quickly pushed past her and smashed his way through the blocked off door with vampiric strength. He quickly charged in and scooped up the baby boy, thanking the gods he didn't need to breathe any longer. Tav quickly came back out and handed the woman her baby.

“Thank you, my lord, thank you!” The woman said, tearing up. Tav gave a small smile before suddenly he heard the sound of crying coming from somewhere nearby. Tav rushed over to the scene. It was yet another smoking home.

“Glacious!” He shot another ice knife at the fire in order to put it out. Tav quickly rushed over, a look of confusion covered his face as he noticed the front door had already been open.

Inside was a little half elf girl with long curly blonde hair. The child knelt down by some debris, crying as a pair of motionless legs poked out from under it. Shaky sobs left her mouth as Tav moved closer.

“Come on darling, we need to get you out of here.” Tav said, kneeling down beside her.

“I'm not leaving without my momma!” She snapped; eyes puffy as she broke down into another fit of sobs. Tav shushed the child before placing a comforting hand in her hair and pulling her into a hug.

“It's not safe here, little one.” Tav said, “where is your papa?”

“He got sick a long time ago….He went to sleep and n-never woke up….” She sniffed.

“Come with me and I'll take you somewhere safe and we'll get you something to eat.” Tav eventually was able to convince the little girl to follow after him. He took her by the hand and guided her out of the house.

“What's your name sweetie?” Tav asked as he led her back through the village. He made sure to steer her away from the sight of any corpses in hopes to keep from terrifying the poor little thing.

“I'm Abigail.” She said softly, “momma used to always call me Abby.”

“Abigail is a beautiful name.” Tav smiled softly. He then suddenly heard footsteps and turned to see Astarion approaching.

“There you are, I was wondering where you'd run off to.” Tav’s master licked over the edge of his mouth, a little bit of blood dribbling down his chin. “And what's this? Have you brought me a snack?” Tav glared at the other male before protectively standing in front of the small child.

“No. Stay away from her Astarion.” Tav said sternly.

Astarion clicked his tongue, “lighten up. It was only a joke. Gods.” The pale elf sauntered over to his beloved spawn, glancing over his shoulder without a care.

“Pretty little thing…Perhaps this is just what we need.” Astarion smirked, an idea began to form in his mind. Tav's eyes widened, he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Astarion no! I'm taking her to an orphanage.”

“Love, don't be ridiculous. Think about how much better off she'd be with us as her fathers.” Astarion took hold of Tav's chin and made the shorter male look up at him. “Isn't that what you want? To have a family with me…?”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Save game 1: Act 3, Crimson Palace.]

Tav bit her lip, holding back a whimper as gripped the wooden comb tightly in her hand. She needed to move fast before the vampire lord drank enough to weaken her. She held the comb high, preparing to plunge it down into his heart from behind but before she could make contact she felt a tight grip around her wrist. Her lover's look alike pulled back from her neck, his blood stained lips forming a frown.

“Trying to kill me already are we? Pity.” His grip around her wrist tightened, threatening to bruise. Tav whimpered, dropping the comb from hand and letting it clatter into the floor below.

“You honestly thought that dull piece of wood would actually stab me!? Ha! Desperation doesn't suit you my dear.” The vampire releases her wrist only to grasp her throat, not as tightly, but still firm enough to make her worry. “I don't want to hurt you darling, but I cannot have you misbehaving.”

“Let me go!” Tav shouted as Astarion stood, yanking her up by the collar around her neck. The Vampire Ascendant seemed to be keeping himself rather composed despite Tav's attempt on his life.

“Oh, I will, you'll go right down into the dungeon to think about what you've done.” Astarion hissed, dragging her out of the study. “Honestly, how can you be so ungrateful! I am giving you everything you could ever want!”

Tav screamed and fought as she was dragged down the hall like wild cat, eventually her survival instincts kicked in and she slung her head around and sank her teeth right down onto the vampire lord’s groin.

“FUCK!” He shouted and crippled down in pain, releasing his grip and Tav and allowing her to turn tail and run like her life depended on it. She darted through a door and quickly down the hall, spotting that strange half-elf girl, Abigail staring at her as she passed.

I need to get this godsdamned collar off of me!

Tav fled further into the palace hearing some footsteps as she came closer towards the ballroom. Swiftly she climbed into a wardrobe off to the side and closed the doors. Peaking out through the cracks as two figures approached. A glowing red eyed Shadowheart and Lae'zel entered the hallway.

“Source of my bruises, are you still in pain?” Lae'zel spoke up, placing her hand on the other female’s cheek. Shadowheart simply shook her head. It appeared the wounds their master inflicted on her had already healed. Tav calmed her breathing, hoping neither of them would detect her presence here. Thankfully however the two of them appeared more concerned with one another. Eventually the two of them walked off, leaving Tav to let out a long sigh of relief.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Save Game 1: Act 3, Upper City.]

“Ooh looks like he's called some guard dogs to do his bidding.” Karlach said as she and Astarion stood onto one the of the nearby buildings adjacent to Cazador’s old palace.

“What is up with evil arseholes and always refusing to get their hands dirty?” Karlach huffed as she peeked down below.

“They’d claim It's beneath them, but truthfully it's all over calculated foolish paranoia.” Astarion looked over the side of the roof, eyes trailing over the large werewolves that stocked over the grounds.

“Does he honestly believe no one is going notice all his pets running around?”

“Well this is technically you we're talking about….What do you think?” Karlach asked.

“I would never have been this stupid! Perhaps overconfident, but this it just ridiculous!”

“Hmm…Maybe he just doesn't care if anyone sees them.” Karlach hummed, “oh wait did you remember to bring the bomb arrows?”

“Naturally.” Astarion smirked, pulling out an arrow and notching it slowly.

“Hells yes! Let's blow these fuckers up!” The tiefling cheered. Astarion quickly shot an arrow which flew through the air hitting one of the wolves right between the eyes. It exploded upon impact, splattering brains, blood and pieces of skull over the cobblestones.

“Gross. Do it again!” The tiefling barbarian’s tail swatted back and forth, eyes locked on the chaos below. The vampire spawn quickly notched another arrow and hit another wolf sending bloody severed limbs flying all over the streets. He then proceeded to shoot a couple more, clearing out the frontline security.

“That should give the others an opportunity to rush the front door. Now we just sneak in through the roof.” Astarion explained.

“Got it! Leave it to mama K!” The barbarian grinned before looking back at Astarion.

“Oh no, whatever you're thinking-”

“No time! We need to get in there and save Tav!” The fiery devil insisted before grabbing hold of the smaller elf, throwing his long slender body over her muscular shoulder.

“Karlach! Gods-dammit! Put me down this instant!” The little vampire hissed.

“We're coming, Tav!” She exclaimed, before backing up and rushing over the building leaping across the sky while Astarion clung to her wide eyed, fingernails digging into her like a scared cat.

The vampire Ascendant never would have guessed his windows would have been shattered by a big red beefy barbarian lady and a cat-like rogue, but here we are.

Note From TheChaoticDruid: I am so sorry for the for the wait! Honestly, I didn't really feel like too many people were invested in this story and 'This Bites' had really become my main focus multi-part fanfic wise. I'm hoping to finish up this story in about two more parts. The Spawn and the Ascendant WILL start showing down next part. Also, I usually don't add a little divider for my smut, but I felt like I just randomly decided there was going to be smut in this part (kinda spur of the moment thing), so I added the Nsfw heads up in case someone reading was not ready for it in this story. Please leave a comment or a reblog down below it really helps motivate me to write! See you guys next time!

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