#all smite x reader

[watarigarasu]

Inversion

Pairing: All Might x Reader/All Smite x Reader Word count: 2,275 Warnings: Violence Synopsis: All Might's mind gets corrupted by an unknown villain and it is now your turn to try to save him.

Faint taste of blood lingered on your tongue when you bit into your chapped lips once again. Unfortunately, the overwhelming nervousness made you feel nauseous and no amount of biting the skin off your lips or fingernails, nor the prolonged trembling of your cold fingers were enough to bring you even the slightest amount of relief. It was as if the fear itself was somehow trapped inside of your body—now seemingly so fragile and vulnerable to every noise and motion—ingrown underneath your skin and bones.

Freezing, sticky terror gluing your senses all together into the mindless pulp.

Loud thud echoed in the spacious room you were currently waiting in, causing you to jolt abruptly at the sudden interference with your circling train of thoughts. Every minute seemed to be taking years to pass, being too long and so short at the same time, or at least that’s what you thought when the soft, comforting voice spoke in the earbud nestled in your left ear. 

“Everything’s ready. Are you absolutely certain about that?”

Why did the preparations take them so long and why did the confirmation reach you so fast? You were definitely far from ready, you were never going to be truly ready for such a task, that’s why you clicked a small button on the earbud and answered, tongue dry like a sandpaper:

“Yes. Let me in.”

Another thud. Heavy and loud, as if something fell down onto the metal floor of the room which was right next to you, separated by the various layers of protective materials—all of them created to keep the most dangerous villains in reins and hold back their destructive powers.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, wondering if maybe you could still go back. Naturally, nobody would force you inside the cell—this cell—and yet you were perfectly aware that there was not a single person in this country or even Earth who had the slightest chances of succeeding in the upcoming persuasions. Sending anyone else there was equal of signing their obituary and even though your brain was desperately looking for other ways to stop this madness, the conclusion was always the same.

No one but you.

He has never loved anyone more than you.

Clenching and unclenching your fists you took a few deep breaths, hoping to gain a little bit of courage from the act. Waiting was pointless, both you and the countless amount of armored heroes securing the building knew about it and so, you took a first step and then another, until your hand was placed on the knob.

“Open it when you’re ready,” the voice in your ear instructed. “Your fingerprints are now in the system, the locks will let you in.”

Another thud from behind the door and you closed your eyes, fighting to regain composure. You couldn’t get inside with jelly legs, teary eyes and trembling voice—you had to negotiate, stay confident about your ground and most importantly, convince the villain to give up.

It had to be you.

Eventually, you quickly turned the knob and the door went open, allowing you to step into the windowless cell before closing behind you and locking itself so any attempt of escape would be fruitless. Not that the villain could physically reach it at the moment, no, the straps glowing with faint red light were currently preventing any rapid movements by holding his body flat on the empty bunk bed. Hearing your entrance, he turned his head to face you, slowly eyeing your silhouette from head to toes as if he was trying to imprint it inside his brain. In any other circumstances you would be glad to see him, cheerful and happy even, wanting nothing more than to embrace him and leave a kiss on his high cheekbone, right now, however, you were barely containing the shiver that slipped down your spine like a vicious serpent—now, that it weren’t his eyes looking at you.

“Ah!” All Might chuckled, the low tone of his voice unchanged. “I was wondering when they will send you to me.”

He knew who you were, just as the doctor warned you before starting this whole ridiculousness—he had told you that the villain who took over All Might’s body could most likely gain the knowledge from his most recent memories. Undoubtedly, All Might’s will was not easy to break and so it gave you a glint of hope that he won’t read all of them like an open book. You, however, were one of the most vivid ones, occupying his thoughts every single day, his feelings for you flooding his heart and so, hiding them reminded an attempt to cover the sun with a blanket. Even if your face, your identity remained hidden from the direct view for your safety, your presence in his life was warming and lightening up all his memories since he met you.

And so, when you stepped inside the cell, the villain immediately knew who you were by the thrill of excitement growing in his broad chest.

“They sent you to speak to my conscience, right?” he mocked, the words leaving past his lips so much unlike the man you loved. “Or maybe in hopes of your pathetic begging convincing me to refrain from committing atrocities?”

You remained silent, observing the way his chest rose and fell when he was breathing. There was blood dried on his temple—the only sign of the fight he pulled with Pro Heroes before they managed to capture him. Or did he allow them to, you wondered, considering how All Might’s strength overpowered everyone else. Could getting there be part of his plan?

“Who are you?” you asked, still not moving from the place you stood on. “How should I address you now?”

“Don’t you know this already?” He raised a sharp eyebrow. “Am I not the love of your life anymore?”

“You’re not him.”

“Still, I own his body.”

And powers, you added but didn’t say it out loud and instead pointed out:

“Not for long.”

All Might clicked his tongue and turned the head to look up at the ceiling. His blonde hair were slightly disheveled, perhaps from the struggling and trying to escape by ripping the straps with sheer strength and failing—much to your relief. It only proved that he could not completely control the body he possessed but didn’t exclude the possibility of it happening soon either. You had to think quickly.

“What do you want?” you finally asked.

“What else could I possibly want?” he shrugged. “Right now I possess everything a man could ever  dream of—power, wealth, reputation and a sweet little thing like you warming my bed.”

It was not easy to keep your emotions restrained while being faced with such words. Although you were looking at him, at the man you knew so well and loved so dearly, it felt like he was not there, behind those piercing blue eyes of his. It wasn’t him and no matter how wrong it seemed, you had to remain calm and collected, paying no mind to the tremble in your voice and cold sweat on your palms.

“Wishful thinking,” you stated and handled the weight of his gaze, once again placed upon you. “I suppose I have to remind you that it’s not me, nor any other hero you’re dealing with, but All Might himself. He may allow you to take control for now, but once you cross the line, he will stop you. You seriously don’t think you can do as you please, do you?”

You could see his jaw clench which proved that you made a fair point. Although you could not see it on your own eyes, you knew that All Might was fighting to regain control over his body. Sooner or later he was going to win and all you had to do was to buy him some time—and perhaps try to trigger the right reaction.

You took a step further and then another one, until you were close enough to have him reach you, if not for the bounds restraining his arms. Giving him your best stern look, you took a deep breath.

“I will have you know that there’s no such thing as power, wealth nor reputation in your possession right now. And especially, not me. You’re but a thief, unable to achieve anything on your own.”

You could sense the change in the air as it grew heavier or the temperature was rising for some unknown reason. The villain was already tensed when he was brought there and therefore vulnerable for the emotional attack. The lack of composure was visible through his flared nostrils and lack of words. Still, he kept watching you carefully, not missing a single movement.

The room seemed to vibrate when he suddenly chuckled, startling you. It was not unexpected but rather unpleasant, considering the situation you were currently in. You wished it would all be over, that you could embrace him and listen to his soothing, deep voice as he would awkwardly pat your head. Unfortunately, there was no sign of your lover behind the reluctant gaze.

“How naïve of you to think you’ll break my will by some empty threats,” he laughed. “Were you trying to make me feel lesser? Scare me? Or maybe try to hurt my pride? I have long abandoned those useless features you consider valuable—I simply don’t care how you see me and whatever you or your colleagues think of my actions. Whatever happens, you will remain obedient and submissive to the society who sent you to me like a lamb to the slaughter. You will care about the opinions of other people, you will fight for your place in this world and die as nobody. Another spare part of the glorious system we all grew under. You cannot escape this fate, not as long as you’re a cog in the perfectly polished machine—and you can and will be replaced.”

You did not even manage to analyze his words, to think of an answer to all that unexpected monologue, before he abruptly got up, tearing the bounds into pieces with the sheer strength and in the blink of an eye grabbed your throat, squeezing it firmly but not tightly enough to strangle.

Panic rose in your heart—no matter how violently you were trying to scratch his hand or pull it away from your neck, All Might (no, the villain in All Might’s body) did not even notice your struggles. Apparently he was waiting for that moment from the very beginning and it was not you who were trying to buy some time but him instead. Whether he was pushing the real All Might’s consciousness to the depths of the mind or waiting for the right moment, you could not tell. All that mattered now was how terrified you were while looking in the eyes of the love of your life and seeing nothing but malevolence.

It’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not him, you repeated in your mind over and over, desperate to soothe the terror but to no avail. Somewhere in the back of your head, you heard the faint noise of an alarm ringing behind the closed door as the chaos must have started by the villain’s sudden actions. Were they going to call more heroes to save you? Would any of them actually try to fight and defeat All Might?

What if he killed you before anyone would get the chance to get close to you?

“Listen carefully,” he hissed, now the wide smile spreading his lips in a malicious manner as he stood firmly on his own legs, still holding you by the throat as if you weight nothing more than a feather. “They were all so serious while I was restrained but now everyone is running like panicked chickens after you cut their heads off!” He laughed again and now you could sense the honest, amused note to it.

“Toshinori,” you coughed, desperate to find a way to bring your lover back—right now in that moment, otherwise the consequences would be fatal. “You have to listen to me. Don’t let him control you, you’re much stronger than that, you—”

“Wishful thinking,” he repeated your own words and proceeded to walk to the entrance. “I’m now fully in control of both this body and the power within. No amount of sweet words can bring the dead man back to life.”

His words terrified you. Could it mean that…?

“Listen to me!” You reached out and grabbed the fabric of his suit so tightly your knuckles hurt, as if that way you could prevent him from going out. “I know you’re still here. Everyone is counting on you, you can still be the hero we all need, you just have to wake up, Toshinori! I know you can, I love you so much and I—”

Once again you were interrupted when he suddenly slammed his hand against the door before the hero on the other side could get closer.

“Look, that’s very sweet of you, honey, but I’m afraid I have to disappoint you,” he sighed in an almost melancholic way before leaning to you so close that you could feel the scent of his skin. “I won’t kill you solely because you actually grew to be my favorite.”

There was a loud thud at the door, panic arising with every passing second as everyone was preparing to face the Number One Hero.

“But you see, the thing is…” he paused before placing a soft kiss on your heated cheek. “There was no villain to control me to begin with.”

If you enjoyed this story I’d greatly appreciate it if you supported me by commenting or reblogging it. Thank you!

#all might x reader #all smite x reader #all might #yagi toshinori #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

[fairyvibez]

Mha tarot cards?

Should I post a sneak peak👀👀

I’m also working on a boba series I’ll post a pic later 👁👅👁

#mha bakugou #deku x reader smut #bnha smut #todoroki natsuo x reader #sero smut #bunny!izuku #jjk #megumi x reader #itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo x reader #yandere keigo takami #sero hanta x y/n #all smite x reader #artwork #tarot cards #tarot journal #tarotcommunity #mha fluff #all might #denki fluff #bakugou x reader

[peachiebeann]

Snippet for an upcoming fic.. 👀

~~~~

Hei stood took a few steps back as the massive villain approached her. Her hands were up in a fighting stance, but one could tell by the look on her face, she was petrified. "Who are you?!" She asked.

Smite stopped in front of her, crouching to one knee (although he was still WAY bigger and taller than she was) and gently brushing his knuckles against her cheeks. "I've come to save you, Angel..." He spoke.

His mask obviously had a voice changer of some sort, his voice coming out much deeper than normal.

"S-save me..?" Hei asked softly, her hands now clutching at the collar of her dress

Edit: Full now out!!! https://www.wattpad.com/1431318105?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create_story_details&wp_uname=HeiheiChan0

#all might #villain all might #all might x oc #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #yandere all might x reader #all might smut #all smite #mha toshinori #mha oc x canon #mha villains #yandere

[puppy-t337h]

DARK RED // villian! All Might x Reader

The rest is up on Ao3 but here's a sneak peak from the first chapter bc idk what to post

~~~

"That's enough."

Everyone's gazes snapped up to find the owner of the smooth baritone voice--and your blood ran cold. 

A man stood a little ways down the hallway.  He looked to be around fifty--your age, if not a little older.  Golden bangs framed distinct cheekbones and a ghastly thin, pale face.  His eyes were shadowed beneath the dim lighting of the hallway.  He looked like a walking corpse, but everything about the way he stood screamed of power and intensity.

He was dressed borderline casually.  A black sweater that looked just the slightest bit too baggy for his figure, combined with dark jeans and boots.  His unrully blond hair stuck out in every possible direction, haloed by the fluorescent lights of the hallway.

You couldn't move.

And neither could the men holding you down, it would seem.

"I gave you very strict orders not to hurt our guest."  The man's eyes narrowed.  "Smite will not be pleased to hear about this."

"With all do respect, Sir, they tried to escape."  The man holding you down reasoned.

"So what?  They can come and go as they please."  The man snorted,  and with a flick of his wrist ordered his men to release you.

"But--"

"Drop the American."  His voice dropped an octive dramatically, in a way that made you feel threatened despite the fact that he was defending you.  "Before I snap your necks faster than you could beg for forgiveness."

And drop you the man did.  You yelped as you landed on your ass and scrambled back against the wall.  You tried to hide the fact that your breathing came fast.

The mystery man straightened his posture, revealing just how tall he really was.  He cleared his throat, and his speech returned to normal just like that.  "If it happens again, there will be consequences." 

The men bowed.  "Yes...Sir."  The man who grabbed you hissed before sending you a look of contempt and continuing on his way.

You grunted, the pain returning as the adrenaline surging through your body dipped.  You clutched your injured arm close to your chest as waves of pain pulsed through it, and held your breath as the surge passed.

Smite...

No.  There was no way.  That wasn't--...

What ... ?

A deep, exhausted sigh could be heard.  You looked up to see the man had gotten closer--in fact, he crouched down in front of you during your small panic.

Even as he knelt in front of you, he still towered above your frame.  He was relaxed, however, and a quick sweep of his figure concluded that he did not, in fact, have any weapons on him.

That didn't hide the fact that he had a distinct smell of old blood and ash, though. 

And he looked much worse up close.  Emaciated, even.

But even in this strange form, there was no denying that this man was Smite.  Electric blue eyes made every hair on your body stand on end as he looked you over, and your nails dug into your palms as you were stunned into silence. 

A tinge of familiarity nipped at the edges of your brain.  You had seen this man before, but where?

You were pulled out of your petrified staring by the sound of your first name.  He waved his hand in front of your face as you blinked up at him.

"Excuse them."  He said, his voice a low rumble in his throat as he held out a gigantic hand.  "No matter how much I threaten them they always seem to find a way to disappoint me."

You shrank away from his hand.

Smite blinked at you, before frowning.  He sighed again as he lowered his hand.  "Right.  I suppose you have every right not to trust me."  He hummed, bringing his hand to his chin.  "After all, you've had quite the eventful few days, haven't you?"

You were silent.  

"I'll assure you that I have no intentions to harm you, Doc."  Despite his statement, his mouth twisted into a slight smirk.  "We're on the same side, believe it or not.  I'm here to help you."

"That's Doctor to you."  You spat, absolutely in awe by the audacity this man held to kidnap you and then call you by your first name, and then nickname you.  "And no, we're absolutely fucking not."

He clicked his tongue.  "What makes you say that?"

"Because I've never met you before in my life."

"Hmm." 

You pulled your legs closer to your torso, finding the smallest bit of comfort in wrapping your good arm around yourself.

He seemed to consider your statement for a moment, his blue gaze narrowing in thought.  He sat there, silent, for a long time before he pushed himself back up to his full height with a grunt.

"You're Smite."  You thought aloud,  "you're...how..."

He smiled wickedly,  "though I prefer my other form over this one...it can come quite handy in certain situations. It allows me to hide, and then appear when people least expect it.  It allows me to find secrets and remind people that I'll never not be here."  He finished, "and that not even the greatest hero in Japan can stop me from getting what I want."

A shiver crawled up your spine as his words sunk in.

"We'll talk more later."  He stated, flatly, as he changed the subject. "You're free to do whatever you like; I could care less.  Your flight back to America is in two weeks when the news takes its head out of my ass.  Until then..."  He turned to you once more as he laid a hand on the doorknob.  "...just don't kill yourself.  Oh, and stay out of the room at the other end of the hallway.  I'll know if you don't."

"Wait!"  You found your courage again, stumbling haphazardly to your feet as the Number One Villain stopped in his tracks once more.

He hummed in question, blond bangs bouncing as he turned to face you once more.

You sucked in a breath, left with way more questions and answers.  Deciding not to question why or how he knew your full name, or why he kidnapped you, or why be wasn't going to hurt you; you fell on the next most important thing.  "You're just gonna leave me here?  And let me break out?"

"Who am I to stop you?"  He apathetically threw back at you.  "It would be unwise, but I'm not here to keep you captive.  I have eyes and ears everywhere, so even if you do I won't be far behind."

You swallowed dryly,  "what do you mean?"

He opened the door again.  The metal let out a deathly squeak, and he ducked under the doorway before turning to you once more. 

"There's a warrant out for your arrest."  He chuckled,  "you, my friend, have made quite the name for yourself."

Without any further explanation, he shut the door.

#all might #villian all might #toshinori yagi #all smite #x reader #fanfic #mha x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader #no use of y/n

[melaninmight]

playtime

— Villain All Might/All Smite | wc: 3k

— “i just wanna play with your body.”

▹ listening: play with me — rendevous at two

ఇ synopsis: after weeks apart, you finally get your fun w/ the man you love to hate

ఇ cw: masturbation, p*ssy lapping, sub!reader, dom!smite, cuffing

Another night, another headache.

You had returned home from yet another excruciating day at work. Kicking your shoes off and hanging your keys, you heaved a sigh before making your way to the kitchen.

Now in the kitchen, you pulled out the water from the refrigerator and poured it in your cup, you took slow sips, chugging the cool beverage down your throat ‘til it was no more.

You set your cup down on the counter before grabbing your purse and head to your bedroom. The sight of a clean room put a smile on your face; the least of your worries was coming home to a messy, undamaged crib.

Setting your purse on the bed, you unpacked your belongings and put them away in their respective places, hanging your purse on the purse rack where it hung with the rest of your most worn/favorite bags.

You then strode towards the curtains, looking out the window that displayed a beautiful view of the city, the moonlight shining down on you as you watched in awe as the night shined with city lights. Unknowingly, you placed your hand on the window, your mind drifting to thoughts of him.

It’s been 2 weeks since you last saw the Symbol of Discord (no, seeing him pop up on the news didn’t count). Despite budding heads and the non-existent common ground, you slowly found yourself growing fond of his company, not to mention the man was very good at sex.

And you couldn’t lie, no matter the denial, you were missing him.

Pulling away from the windows, you stood on your tippy toes and drew the curtains forward to cover the window so your nosy neighbors couldn’t sneak a peek. You walked towards the closet and peered through your clothes, some piled on the floor due to your laziness not to finish laundry.

While you looked through your clothes, your eyes and brows rose when you stumbled across a red-laced lingerie piece with heart-shaped garter belts.

Holding it up, your face flushed; you remembered your best friend mailed this to you as a gift from America.

You giggled at the small note she left on top of the box.

“Just in case you decide to feel sexy, this’ll get your man feral. Expect to be slapped with complaints later. Love ya! x”

Oh how you missed her.

Perhaps it was a sign that you should put your confidence to the test. Indeed, you were a tough cookie when it came to standing your ground, yet intimacy was one that made you shy. Even though it wasn’t your first rodeo, the thought of it made you feel like a virgin all over again.

‘Should I text him and tell him to come over?’

Sighing softly, after shooting him a quick text, you held the outfit as you stood up and walked towards the bathroom to freshen up.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Time flown by and you had finished putting yourself together for the evening.

Sitting on the bed, you had checked your phone to check if he replied to your message:

You: Heyy, just got off of work. Wanna come over?

Delivered 02:46

You took a deep breath and turned off your phone, setting it on the bedside table before flopping your back down on the soft sheets, your eyes staring up at the ceiling as you watched the fan spin around, the room dimmed with red from your LED lightstrips.

You refrain yourself from overthinking whether he suddenly got bored and crashed at someone else’s crib.

Despite you both not being clear on the status of the relationship (or, whatever y’all got going on), you couldn’t help but grow agitated that he left you hanging.

Sure, you understood who you were dealing with, but never could you have imagined how difficult it was gaining his attention.

You stifled a yawn, covering your mouth as you did so, before rising up and making your way back to the bathroom again. Looking at the mirror, you checked yourself out; your body in the red-lace lingerie piece with the garter belt stockings hugging your figure, your makeup not too cakey, your braids loose as they freely hang down to your plump ass.

You couldn’t lie, you felt and looked sexy. A part of you was excited to see his reaction.

Perhaps, you were too excited to see him. If he was coming.

The night was still young, so why waste it when you can have some fun by your lonesome to pass the time?

Grabbing your purple, dick-shaped vibrator from the side drawer of your dresser, you laid yourself back onto your bed, your back meeting the soft comforter. With your legs spread, you turned the toy on and placed it at the center of your p*ssy, the low vibrations grazing your cl*t.

You bit your lip, holding in your moans as you shifted on your bed, twisting and turning as your body shook with pleasure. One hand gripped the vibrator while the other gripped the sheets in a tight hold, a shaky whimper escaped your mouth.

Your mind was fogged with wet imaginations, picturing Smite sneering down at you, pounding you hard as you screamed and cried out his name, your fingers clawing his back as he made sure that you wouldn’t walk the next day.

You moaned his name, your hips shaking profusely as you pressed the vibrator against your cl*t, your juices squirting around it, some dropped onto the sheets.

Tossing the vibrator to the side, you stared up at the ceiling, chest rising up and down each time you took a breath.

But, you weren’t done.

You rose up out of the bed to grab the full length mirror that stood beside your closet. Picking it up, you walked back over and set it flat on the bed, sticking your dick-shaped vibrator on the mirror so it’d sit up.

Crawling back on the bed, you moved the panty line of the lingerie to the side, aligning  your ass against the tip of the vibrator, rubbing your wet entrance on the toy before slowly slamming down on it.

Once adjusted, you began to ride yourself up and down on the toy, the low vibrations making your folds squelch tightly. You imagined yourself riding the villain’s hard, throbbing cock, followed by the sounds of your jiggling ass slapping against his cum-filled balls.

The thought of the villain calling you derogatory names whilst slapping your ass, praising your ability of taking in all of him. The empty threats he’d whisper in your ear, sending bolts of pleasure throughout your body as he quickened his pace, pounding you so hard, he’d be sure to paralyze you.

These thoughts sent you into an absolute frenzy, the mixed sounds of your breathy moans and ass clapping as it hit the mirror echoed in the room. Before you knew it, your orgasm had already come, your juices splattering all over the vibrator and the mirror.  

Pulling out of the toy, your sweaty body shook indefinitely as you struggled trying to catch a breath.

“That was an excellent performance, kitten.~”

Very quickly did you turn around to the sound of a familiar deep voice, catching sight of electric-blue irises staring back at your widened ones, a large bulky shadow looming from the shadows.

Face burning in utmost embarrassment, you reached for the nearest pillow to throw at him.

“Y-You sneaky motherfucker!” you softly exclaimed.

The pillow was nowhere near his reach, only grazing the tip of his boots, making the villain snicker slyly as he bent over to pick it up. He found it adorable when you scolded him for showing up out of the blue. Although a part of him felt bad for not responding to your text earlier, his discreet entrance felt worthwhile since he enjoyed watching his kitten pleasuring herself at the thought of him.

Like hell he was gonna admit it to your face.

With a smirk, Smite strode towards you, his large frame towering over yours as his grin turned Cheshire. Your eyes closed shut and face flushed, you felt his eyes swallow your frame up and down. Before you could react, his hand slithered around your waist, pulling you up to his chest.

He lowered his face on the crook of your neck, his nose tickled with the scent of warm vanilla and brown sugar.

“H-Hey,” you squeaked, hands grasping his shirt.

Smite let out a low growl as his teeth grazed on her skin, leaving behind purple marks coating her neck.

“Someone was eager for Daddy to come home” he purred, a sly smirk forming his lips. He aligned his face to hers, his breath fanning the side of your face as he left a kiss on your flushed cheek.

You peeked one eye open, your lips quivering when his large hands gilded against your skin, sending goosebumps throughout your body.

“N-No way,” you whimpered. “I-I didn’t think you’d come.”

Smite chuckled. “Well, you thought wrong, kitten..”

You shivered when you felt his warm breath fanning your ear, his teeth nipped the tip of your ear.

“Because I am here to play.”

Without hesitation, he picked you up in his arms, his hands cupping and squeezing your ass as he leaned down to lock his lips with yours. The kiss was rough, but passionate, and you hesitantly reciprocated the passion.

The man growled against your lips, his tongue making way into your mouth to dance with yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers. You wrapped your legs around his lower body, small hands slithering up his body to clutch onto his broad shoulders.

You were so lost in the heated kiss that, before you knew it, he pulled away from the kiss and gently threw you back onto the bed, your back hitting the soft comforter.

Sitting on your knees, you gazed up at the behemoth of a man, your face flushed, lips throbbing and wet from the kiss. Smite felt his cock twitching behind the fabric of his pants, aching to make its way inside you, causing his throat to vibrate into a growl.

His electric-blue irises appeared from the shadow of his eyes, taking in every inch of your body hugged up in the lingerie. He couldn’t deny the fact that you were, indeed, beautiful and sexy in that lacey red fabric, your innocent expression begging to be put into submission. And he was loving every bit of it.

Inside his pocket was a pair of fluffy red handcuffs he managed to snag from an adult retail store. He was waiting for the night to come when he’d cuff you to the bed and did whatever he pleased. His large hand reached inside his pocket to retrieve the cuffs, and when he took ‘em out, he almost laughed at the sudden change of your expression from flushed to shock.

Your eyes kept going back and forth between Smite and the cuffs trapped in his hand. A swell of mixed feelings filled your stomach; while a part of you was telling you to object, the curiosity grew on the other side, excitement almost getting the best of you as you wanted to experience the thrill of being cuffed onto the bed as the Symbol of Discord played and feasted on you. The thought alone had your pussy throbbing, a wet spot slowly growing on the panty line of the lingerie.

You did your best to cover up your lust by pressing your thighs together, but unfortunately, Smite wasn’t slow as he caught wind of your excitement.

“D’aww, is kitty excited to play?” he teased, his Cheshire-like grin appearing on his face.

You remained speechless. You wanted to clapback, but words couldn’t form.

Flustered, your eyes fell down to your clasped hands resting on your thighs as your body shook from internal ecstasy.

Though you were embarrassed to admit it, the man took advantage of your expression as a sign that you were excited. His large hand grabbed both of your wrists and dragged you to the end of the bed, raising them up to where he’d cuff your hands to the headboard of the bed.

You showed no signs of resistance, much to his content.

His eyes peered down to your thighs pressed together to cover up your wetness, his large tongue trailed through to moisturize his dry lips, his cock twitching behind his jeans as his hunger for you grew.

You flexed your wrists against the cuffs, your heart racing at the anticipation of the villain’s touch, of what he intended to do to you. Perhaps your anticipation came at the right time when he slowly trailed his finger from your chest down to your stomach, sending shivers across your skin.

A shaky breath escaped your lips, reeling your head back against the pillow.

Smite grinned, tracing his finger further down to your lower body ‘til it reached your p*ssy.

“Getting wet for me already, huh kitten?” he chuckled as he slowly inserted two large fingers inside your wet folds, pumping ‘em in and out of you before inserting a third.

“Wha- N-No,” you whimpered.

This only prompted the villain to fasten his pace, your folds squelching with each pump, leaving you gasping and moaning breathlessly. No matter of denial can take away the pleasure you were feeling, and he made sure of it.

Smite growled with satisfaction, his other hand pulling down the fly of his jeans before resting on his briefs, rubbing his cock against the fabric. He could feel how heavy and thick his member grew, his angst increasing with a stifled groan.

“I- c-close...” you cried, breaths coming in shaky as your body shook from your high.

Removing his fingers, he stared in awe at his work, his fingers glazed with your juices. With closed eyes, his large tongue swept up to clean up his (or rather, your) mess, his throat heaving a satisfied groan, savoring your taste.

Your sight was fuzzy, face burning with fluster, chest rising with each breath you released. Flexing your wrists against the cuffs, you rose a foot to his briefs, toes slowly grazing the outline of his hard member, a breathy giggle leaving your lips.

Smite sneered down at you, forcing you to stop and quiver underneath his stare.

His large hand wrapped around your foot, his thumb leaving small tickles that left you biting your lip to prevent yourself from laughing.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” the man growled, his other hand rose to leave a harsh SLAP! on your thigh.

“N-Ngh! Not so…” you whined. “H-Hard, you idiot!”

A booming laugh shook the room.

“Relax, kitten. Playtime is about to begin,” he cooed, clutching your lingerie with both of his large hands and ripped it off of you without hesitation. Granted, you were gonna scold him for ruining your friend’s gift, though you doubt he gave two shits.

You arch your back when his hands groped your breasts, fingers tugging and pinching your sensitive nipples. A breathy gasp left your mouth as he leaned forward and latched a nipple in his mouth, sucking and rolling it with his warm tongue, before returning the same treatment to the other.

He’d let go of your nips with a ‘pop’ before licking his way down your stomach and thighs, leaving love bites in his wake. Finally, he had reached his destination, his eyes staring down at the wetness galore of your p*ssy, his mouth watering.

“Fuck, this pussy’s too good not to resist,” he praised.

Leaning forward, he nuzzled his nose against your entrance, you felt his warm breath tickling your folds. Next thing you knew, you were met with the warmth of his thick tongue swiping across your cl*t, releasing a breathy whimper.

“A-Ah, n-not there,” you cried. You were about to lay your hands against his blond locks, but had forgotten that you were trapped in cuffs, leaving you powerless and defenseless against the villain.

Smite took his time savoring the sweet taste of you, his groans vibrating your wet folds with each lap, the corners of his mouth coated in your juices.

A mixture of your whimpers and his loud gulps echoed the room.

Your mind was in a daze, too foggy to comprehend. Him eating you out had no business feeling this damn good. So much so that you felt another orgasm coursing through your body, sprinkling his mouth and face with more juices.

The man smirked against your p*ssy, lapping up every ounce of your sweet nectar before letting go of your small bud with a ‘pop.’

Pulling away, he watched as your expression contorted into one of pure bliss and pleasure. Your face flushed, tongue slightly sticking out of your mouth, tears filling your eyes, chest rising with each shaky breath. If that wasn’t the lewdest expression he’d seen out of you, he might as well take a picture to look back at his work.

“My my, what a messy girl you are~. You better be grateful that Daddy is here to clean up your mess,” he chuckled in amusement, licking away any leftover juice remaining on his lips.

You shot him a soft glare, not fond of his cockiness.

He churned his head slightly.

“Aww, don’t look at me like that, kitten.”

He leaned down close to your face, his lips brushing against yours.

“Besides… we’re just getting started.”

ପ 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 | 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔬𝔫 | 𝔱𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑

ఇ 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 :: @tojibreedingme @thicksimpx (𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 )

ఇ 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀: open ✓

a/n :: it feels good to upload another fic. july was probably the busiest (and worst) month to endure as i was competing in academic olympics while balancing my mental health. here’s a gentle reminder that it’s okay to take breaks and take care of yourself. <3 

p.s. ::  a HUGE thank you for 100 followers! never would i imagine of reaching such a milestone.. i’m genuinely so happy that there are peps out there who read, interact, and enjoy my content. it gives me the motivation to continue writing for y’all!

*virtual huggies and kissies* i love y’all sm, and once again, thank you~ ! (´ε｀ )♡

p.s. (2) :: this fic is also published on ao3 ;)

-

♡

i hope you enjoyed! (꒪˙꒳˙꒪)

© melaninmight, 2022. do not translate, plagiarize, or post on other socials w/out permission.

#melaninmight #bnha #bnha smut #bnha x y/n #all might #all might smut #all might x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #yagi toshinori #villain all might #all smite #villain all might smut #villain all might x reader #f!reader #poc reader #minors fuck off #minors dni #edit later #<3333

[stormcallart]

GN!Reader x All Smite | One shot | No rating | Warning: power dynamics, intimidation, brief mention of death. 

You're a lowly thief. A decent safecracker, recruited into the infamous number one villain All Might's ranks for a heist. You keep to yourself for the most part..until late one night you walk into a room in the dingy warehouse that was used as his base of operation. The man himself is hunched over and grumbling, a single yellow light hanging over his head swayed lazily, amplifying his blond tufts of hair that shot upward. What in the hell was he doing?

Nearing, All Might throws something across the room with a snarl, a small container that hits the wall with a piercing sound, glass shattering and black ink staining the wall. The smell is immediate- nail polish. You have to stifle the laugh that leaves you after the initial shock dissipates, bright burning blue eyes turning to you, his thick blond brows furrowing in his anger at the sudden intruder. "You." he bellows, jabbing a large finger down at the ground besides him, "Come here."

Who are you to deny the Scourge of Japan, the Great Villain, All Might? You realize you aren't breathing, stepping towards the giant of a man -- there was no way to refuse even if you had wanted to. This is it, you're dead. You had laughed at the man and now he was going to end your miserable little life. 

 "Sit." 

He barks out, kicking the stool next to him with his heavy boot. You finally take that breath you'd been holding. He orders you to paint his nails. You would've laughed if it wasn't him. No, you had learned your lesson.

Your hands are trembling with the brush, a twisted smile on the villains face seeing how he affected you so. Sweet little safecracker...His cerulean eyes roam over the way your lips parted, brows raised in concentration as the slightest bit of sweat began to bead on your brow. You took care, painting each with an endless black, not daring to mark his skin with the polish.

Those calloused and scarred hands, monstrous in size, had leveled near cities to ruin. They could end you in a fraction of a second. The man was terrifying.  It felt like hours, feeling his harsh gaze on you ,doing your best at the task at hand. There is a hum in the back of the giants throat, a grim satisfaction at your trembling hands and anxious demeanor... He was enjoying this. 

When all ten were finally painted you let out a sigh of relief.

No sooner then your exhale started did his hand grip your chin, oh the fear in your eyes was delicious to him, especially how you let out a loud gasp as his hand tilted your head upwards. Your nose flaring at the  acrid smell of wet polish so close.  His thumb ran against your bottom lip, his tongue mimicking the action as it ran along his sharp canine. "See you soon, My little Safecracker." the sound of his voice like rolling thunder, an approaching storm just over the horizon- a warning of what was to come. 

No words left your too-dry mouth, terror lined your every feature as he grinned down at you. His hand left your chin, a sinister smile against his lips. All Might had drank his dose of fear and had had his fill...for now. He stood, chuckling as heavy boots beat against the concrete with muffled thuds. Casting one last glance as you trembled with nails digging into the wood of the table, too petrified of what transpired to look back.

He was obsessed with it-- this power over you. You were his little rabbit hopelessly ensnared in his trap. You just didn’t know it yet.

#storm writes #all smite x gn reader #gn!reader #all smite #villain all might #all might #yagi toshinori #all might x reader #i wrote this a long time ago #on twitter and just never posted it here lol #here ya go

[voguesriot]

DON’T HURT YOURSELF ✹ luke castellan

( summary ) social media au where your boyfriend became the asshole everyone warned you he’d be and now you’re looking for revenge (& luke is a down bad loser w no game)

( pairings ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader

DIRECT MESSAGES

sarahdawson: hey girly ik we’re not like close or anything but something happened last night that i need to tell you about

sarahdawson: so i was getting strawberries yesterday and max was there and he was being really weird and like flirty and i’m so sorry i feel like such a horrible person even though i turned him down right away but he tried to kiss me and i hit him and then i went back to my cabin but i had to tell you

sarahdawson: i’m so sorry

yourusername: THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE I KNEW HE WASNT WORTH SHIT

yourusername: this is clarisse btw i took her phone

yourusername: (me again) thank you for telling me sarah it rlly means a lot 🫶

sarahdawson: if it makes any difference you’re way too hot for him and literally anything you need (even rigging archery lessons so the new kids take shots just as he’s walking by), i’m your girl x

♫ Don’t Hurt Yourself by Beyoncé feat. Jack White

♡ liked by silenabeauregard , connorstroll , and others

yourusername love god herself (love u mama) 💋

sarahdawson AHHH YOURE SO PRETTY

yourusername THANK YOU GORGEOUS 🥹🥹

clarisselarue too good for anyone 😮‍💨

silenabeauregard prettiest girl everrrr

chrisrodriguez pur girlie

yourusername what.

chrisrodriguez gods forbid a man expresses an ounce of girlish whimsy

yourusername nooo queen i appreciate you thank you

seaweedbrain you ate ‼️‼️‼️

seaweedbrain ate my dessert*

seaweedbrain it’s all fun and games until you end up stealing from the youth

seaweedbrain count your days miss counsellor

yourusername my girl sally should’ve kept you on a leash for a bit longer because you are rabid my love

seaweedbrain I WAS NEVER ON A LEASH WTF

racheledare STUNNA GIRL STUNNA GIRL I CHOOSE U BABY OVER A HUNDRED GIRLS

yourusername ME AND U 4EVERR 🙏🙏

lukecastellan nice dress!!

this comment was deleted.

clarisselarue lukecastellan i saw that.

lukecastellan why are you so ominous

clarisselarue why are you such a loser

lukecastellan have you ever been chill for a day in your life

clarisselarue have you ever known the loving touch of a woman

chrisrodriguez FOUL 😭😭😭

♫ Feather by Sabrina Carpenter

♡ liked by drewtanaka , pipermclean , and others

[ tagged: yourusername , clarisselarue , silenabeauregard , drewtanaka , hazellevesque , pipermclean ]

sarahdawson girls night w my favs 💘

silenabeauregard APOLLO CABIN 🔛🔝

yourusername FORREALLL

yourusername best night i’ve had in a long time i love u all sm ☹️🫶 ( liked by sarahdawson , clarisselarue , silenabeauregard , drewtanaka , hazellevesque , pipermclean )

silenabeauregard MY GIRLSSSSS

wisegirll prettiest girls in the world 💕💕

clarisselarue sarah girl love ya but maybe leave the singing to ur siblings 🙏

sarahdawson RUDE

yourusername sarahdawson dw baby i loved our duet xx

sarahdawson we simply are destiny’s child

drewtanaka yk who is shaking in his boots

seaweedbrain oh yeah cool i didn’t even want an invite it’s totally chill

yourusername calm down lil guy maybe when you’re older

clarisselarue if zeus doesn’t smite his ass before he gets the chance 😭

seaweedbrain clarisselarue I BEAT YOUR DADS ASS HES LITERALLY A DEADBEAT DADDY

wisegirll too far

seaweedbrain sorry clarisse

lukecastellan yourusername we could hear you singing all the way in hermes ☠️

yourusername NO THATS SO EMBARRASSING WHICH SONG

lukecastellan i think it was never lose me or smth

clarisselarue bros acting like he hasn’t been thinking ab it nonstop

yourusername lukecastellan i’m so sorry for any pain i’ve caused

chrisrodriguez AYY BRO MAKING MOVES

groverunderwood you call those moves? 😭

chrisrodriguez baby steps are still steps let me celebrate my guy in peace 😔

♫ Heartless by The Weeknd

♡ liked by connorstroll , and others

maxwalsh never been better

clarisselarue oh that’s not ☠️

lukecastellan this what you’ve been doing instead of coming to sparring?

maxwalsh it’s a better challenge

drewtanaka THE CLAWS ARE OUT MEOW

yourusername just posted to their story!

DIRECT MESSAGES

lukecastellan: you look really pretty

#luke castellan x aphrodite!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #camp half blood x reader

[dustofthedailylife]

Unaffected a teaching in humbling oneself

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Dr. Ratio x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Ratio is quite aware of his dashing looks and intellect. If he so wanted, he could use it to his advantage whenever he pleased. That was until he met you, who seemed to be entirely unaffected by it.

Tags: Pining, Crack, unreciprocated feelings towards Ratio, someone give him a clown nose - he's making a fool of himself, written pre-release of character, short one-shot

A/N: L+Ratio to Dr. Ratio himself.

Consider how the renowned Veritas Ratio would act if he had a crush on you.

No doubt, he was aware of his attractive appearance and masterful intellect. Why else would he only teach while wearing that accursed marble head? He's experienced it all too often that people stop paying attention to his teaching because they only get distracted by appearances. While conveying knowledge about science, it was nothing more than a nuisance to him.

He didn't want nor need hordes of students fawn over him. This still hadn't changed.

However, when you started working as his colleague at the same university one day, it was as if he had lost his composure for the first time in forever. Judging by your appearance, the Aeons themselves must have carved and sent you to smite him down. Let alone your wit and intellect. He was gone the minute he had first laid his eyes on you.

He absolutely wanted to get to know you better and make you fall for him how he fell for you when you first graced him with your presence.

There was just one problem - due to the boundaries he had set for himself, you had never seen his face. He never took the marble head off when he was at work. However, he was almost certain that, once he did so, you would fall for him the same way his students always did before he hid his face.

There was no way you wouldn't fall for a man of his caliber.

Self-assured and while putting on the most attractive smile he could muster he decided to take the mask off as casually as possible in front of you one day. He leaned against the wall beside you, eyeing you confidently. He was certain to see the stars of the galaxy sparkling back at him in your eyes. Your jaw would drop and you'd inch closer to him and then-

"You have something stuck between your teeth." You remarked unaffectedly as you motioned him to remove it.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sipped from it with an unwavering expression of apathy before lifting your eyebrows at him.

Why were you so unimpressed? Why didn't you fall for him yet? He was here. His handsome face exposed right in front of you in broad daylight. Were you not attracted to men, perhaps? No, that couldn't be. He happened to catch a conversation between you and another coworker about it. But why weren't you worshipping the ground he walked on yet?

"Is something the matter?" You poked quizically, noticing how his smile and his entire attitude and confidence had faltered and crumbled into dust in an instant.

"Huh? I j-just..." He stammered before hurriedly picking the piece of food out from in between his teeth.

This should've worked. His plan was flawless. Why did you not care about his dashing looks at all.

"Nothing." He said curtly, straightening himself up again to regain his composure.

"Alright." You nodded confusedly, forcing a smile and eyeing him as if he was completely insane.

The following weeks looked about the same. He tried to appear in front of you without the mask more and more often. He would try to initiate in talks and scientific discussions with you but you always seemed to end up annoyed by him. It was doing his head in what he could possibly be doing wrong - No. Surely, it wasn't his fault. It couldn't be.

That was until he overheard a conversation between you and another coworker.

"I have never seen him behave like that - let alone see him take his stone head off so often..." The coworker said puzzledly. "But I have to admit he is quite attractive."

"Pff, no way. Not with a character like that. Either way, I have no idea what his deal is." You sighed. "All I know is that he is grinding my gears with his big-headed attitude, ugh."

His heart dropped at your words. He had never heard that someone had perceived him this way.

Him? Big-headed? And you also don't find him attractive?

Maybe a change of plan was in order. Just... what was he doing wrong?

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about HSR or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #dr. ratio x reader #dr. ratio #ratio x reader #veritas ratio #hsr fluff #hsr crack #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #hsr imagines #🍁 dust writes #🍁彡 hsr

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

hiii can I request a Percy x Zeus!gf hcs!!? but don’t focus on how they’re so powerful together in combat and stuff and more on how they chill

⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of zeus! reader hcs

content: percy jackson x daughter of zeus! reader hcs warning: language but i think that's it as per usual author's note: kicked my butt, this one here. idk why, zeus is always so hard fr. like something about his bitch ass be setting me off. making it hard to write and shit. go suck a dick bro fr.

KING AND QUEEN OF UNOFFICAL SLEEPOVERS

just a girl in need of a nap with her bf who just wants to make her happy fr

each others cabins become like a second home quickly, since you both got hella lonely when your siblings weren't there

"hey, do you have my left shoe in your cabin?"

"the blue one or the white one? actually, i think the white one is your right shoe-"

also, this man has so much beef with your father, how he hasn't gotten smited yet no one knows

(if zeus so much as thinks about laying a hand on percy, you'll take olympus down yourself, brick by fucking brick)

percy fr be making offerings like 'dear all mighty zeus, may your daughter's ass and tits look stunning tomorrow, like usual. amen and hallelujah.'

does he get shocked by every door handle he touches? yes

is it worth it? more than you can imagine

once you and percy started dating, all of his clothes were instantly yours.

he's since stopped asking if the shirt is his bc like...it's his without a doubt

"i need that back by friday. school spirit days or something."

"ummm this is my shirt??" you reply, your face scrunching up in confusion

percy reaches into the shirt and produces the tag, which his initials are there in thick black pen

"yeah, p and j. uh- oh! property...of...uh jupiter like uh zeus...yeah."

percy just rolls his eyes and walks away

the shirt was folded at the end of his bed by thursday evening obvi

also, i just know you start spending so much time in the poseidon cabin bc the zeus cabin is creepy as shit.

like you are constantly telling percy that you can hear hercules in the walls but he always things your joking

you are not

places is haunted as fuck, probs the doing of hades or one of his kids or something

whatever, it's just another excuse to sleep in percy's cabin.

he's a snuggle bug, i know it

but at some point in the night, he's lost a sock, he's starfish-ing over the bed and you, and has managed to shift so much in bed he's half falling off

so, it's kind of a pain in the ass but he's just so cute you can't help but love him

when he wakes up, he always moves back to your side and pulls you into his chest, smothering you with kisses.

"good morning! wake up, princess of the sky, come on!"

"go away," you huff, shoving him off you in an attempt to get more sleep but he always just comes rolling back

"nah, you're too pretty to leave alone."

"you're so annoying...annoyingly handsome," you joke, joining in with a sleepy smile

"you think i'm handsome?" percy prompts with a smirk, like you two haven't been dating for two years.

"the handsomest," you confirm, shaking your head sleepily and patting his cheek lovingly.

"wanna know what would make you even more handsome?"

"hmm?"

"letting a girl sleep in. get out of my bed if you're gonna be awake."

"your bed- bitch, this is my cabin!"

"the fuck you just call me?"

"the love of my life??"

"wrong...asshole."

"hEY!"

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"THE FIRST DATE"

EXTRA CONTENT - "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 7k+ → a/n: the very long awaited first date. this was requested by several people. wahoo! also, fair warning for second-hand embarrassment. i think eddie munson is the only person who drag me dancing around a bowling alley and i wouldn't smite them on the spot.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

EDDIE: What about a fancy dinner date?

YOU: boring.

YOU: and too traditional. when were you even born, Munson? the 60s???

EDDIE: Ha. Ha. I don’t see you making any worthwhile suggestions, sweetheart. 

YOU: i don’t have to make any suggestions, old man. YOU’RE supposed to be wooing ME 

God forbid anyone walked in on you at this moment. 

You were like a high schooler, lying on your stomach with your feet kicking up into the air as you stared at the screen, happily bantering with Eddie over text. All the butterflies, all the blissful jitters, all that dopamine rush that comes with school girl crushes – every single cliche was present and was in full force as you discussed the details of your first date with him. You used to scoff (albeit with hidden longing) at all the romance movies that you truly believed had overplayed all the giddiness, but now you got it. It was disgusting, the way he had you wrapped around his finger so easily, the way he had turned you into a heart-eyed shell of the woman you once were in the matter of a week. 

EDDIE: So you have a thing for older men is what you’re telling me.

YOU: i NEVER said that.

EDDIE: Didn’t have to, sweetheart. I can read between the lines. 

Over the last week, since the two of you had won the bet and you had won over with insistence on him properly asking you out, Eddie had been tossing around date ideas as he tried to plan this very first occasion. The only time you had even seen him was when your entire group met up, the latest outing having been for brunch on Saturday under the guise celebrating the one week anniversary of you and Eddie surviving twenty four hours together without killing each other. 

Didn’t stop him from calling and texting you. And it clearly hadn’t deterred him from losing his mind over doing right by you with this entire first date ordeal. 

YOU: i don’t even have the energy to explain to you how many times you have proven to not do that in the past. 

EDDIE: I’ve read between the lines in the past! 

YOU: you most certainly have NOT

EDDIE: I was able to read when you wanted to kiss me that night. That’s reading between the lines.

And so the giddiness rears its head, full fledged as heat swarms your body and your cheeks ache from your smile. 

YOU: i hate you 

EDDIE: No, you don’t

YOU: i do. i really do. 

EDDIE: You’re such a shit liar

You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a knock on your dorm’s door, annoying and persistent as it taps out some random rhythm that must be a song of some sort. But whatever song it is, you can’t recognize it as you stand, walking over to answer. 

“Did you forget your key aga-” you begin, assuming it was just your roommate. You’re shocked to see Robin and Steve standing there, “What are you guys doing here?” 

“We had a study date, in case you had forgotten and not seen our hundreds of texts,” Steve huffs, quickly crossing his arms. 

You hadn’t seen their texts. Most of your screen time had been a bit preoccupied with a certain metalhead. 

“Oh, shit,” your face falls as you open the door wider, side-stepping and motioning for them to come in. 

“Yeah,” Steve snarks as he comes right in, Robin hot on his trails and seeming in a far more pleasant mood as the boy mocks you, “Oh, shit.” 

Robin stops beside you as Steve helps himself to a seat in your desk chair, “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because he has to get A’s on all his mid-terms to keep his 3.0.” 

“I am not cranky-”

“You are!” 

“Am not!” 

“You so are,” Robin continues to egg him on, choosing your bed as her resting place. 

Your phone bounces a bit from the way she throws herself down on the sorry excuse for a mattress, and you recall how you had yet to reply to Eddie. Fuck.

“When did we even make these plans?” you ask, genuinely confused as you shut the door. You already miss the peace and quiet of being alone, free to preen at your phone and giggle to your heart’s content at the world’s worst flirt over text.

“Saturday,” Steve groans, throwing his head back. 

“It was after brunch,” Robin clarifies, lifting herself up from how she was lounging amongst your blankets, “I mean, you seemed a bit distracted when you agreed, but… We did text you about it.” 

You had been distracted. Eddie had managed to quietly ask the waitress to include your tab with his so he could pay for it without your knowledge, and you’d spent the entire time torn between being upset with the boy and absolutely fawning. It was a bit pathetic, looking back at it – the fact that those were the only two options your mind had presented you with. You’d scorned him over the phone later that night, and he had only laughed. You swear you can still hear it now, having heard it several times since – a low chuckle that rattled into the caverns of your chest, that bounced amongst vines of affection and willed open blooms of adoration just a little bit wider. 

Part of you was still waiting for the wilting. For the other shoe to drop, for all of what had been exposed and had been planted to vanish from your grasps. That first Monday morning, you’d even woken up worried it had all been a dream. 

“I’ve been busy,” you lamely try to excuse your radio silence. 

“Busier than normal?” Steve’s brows quirk up, leaning back in your chair that emits a squeak of protest, “Or have you just been busy with new friends?” 

Your lips twist and your nose twitches in confusion, “New friends? What the Hell are you going on about, Harrington?” 

Robin fully sits up now, watching with piqued interest.

“Eddie,” Steve gets straight to the point, his previous sour mood finally melting slightly, “You can’t honestly tell me that nothing changed after that night.” 

It was something neither of you had really discussed. Steve had seen you two, knew that a lot had truly changed based off of the way you’d tossed him right into the middle of the mess there at the end, but you and Eddie had never said anything about being together. Not to your friends, and not even to each other. 

“Just because I don’t want to tear his head off his shoulders anymore doesn’t mean we’re spending every waking moment together,” you force your best scowl, as if that wasn’t exactly what you had yearned for all week. 

Eventually, it had to wear off. That’s what you told yourself – at some point the initial rose tones would fade less vibrant, and Eddie’s intense occupation of your mind would lessen with the hues. 

“I can’t believe it, but I am siding with Stevie on this one,” Robin finally contributes, “I mean, you guys won’t even tell us what happened that night.” 

“Nothing exciting,” you’re quick to lie, “Just… I don’t know. Boring stuff. Getting on each other’s nerves, sitting around on his couch,” that gets a bitter scoff from Steve that almost makes you freeze up. Damn Eddie for teasing him with the truth about the couch, “Nothing worth making a big deal over. Like I said, we just learned to… to… tolerate each other.”

Tolerate was an interesting way to put spending hours on the phone together each night, sometimes falling asleep while still on the line. 

Steve still looks as though he’s recalling all of Eddie’s annoying taunts from that night while Robin only grins salaciously. 

“Tolerate each other?” she mimics you, leaning forward and pressing her palms into the edge of the mattress beside her knees, “Babe, have you two even said a single mean thing to each other since that night? I think he even smiled at you on Saturday. You’re practically married with two and a half kids already.”

He had smiled at you – multiple times. And each one had struck the most delicate of daggers right into your chest, lighting you aflame under his attempted clandestine attention. Every time those big, brown eyes had met yours from across the table, the ache you’d started to hold for him had only doubled in size. By the end of that morning, when the day had technically started to bleed out into the afternoon, you were nothing more than a vessel of pining for the boy that you hadn’t even gotten the chance to brush against amongst your friends. 

“Whatever,” you murmur as you reach out to snatch up your phone, “I never even understood the whole half kid thing. Like, how the fuck do you have two and a half kids?” 

“I’m sure Eddie would be more than happy to show you,” Steve teases despite his still half-traumatized look.

You’re quick to reach out a hand to whack the back of his head, “Shut up. Are we gonna keep sitting here while you two try to pry something that doesn’t exist out of me, or are we going to go study?” 

Steve’s grumpy mood returns as he rubs the back of his head, him and Robin standing in sync to exit the room.

But before the three of you exit the dorm, you check your phone one last time, having to bite down on that girlish grin when you see two new text message notifications. 

EDDIE: It’s official. I’m a genius. 

EDDIE: Say, are you free tomorrow night? 

—

Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. A shift at your job, one too many hours spent sitting through lectures, ensuring a night of studying with Steve and Robin — all petty distractions, roadblocks on your path to the most highly anticipated first date of your life. Eddie wouldn’t even entertain you with details, only telling you to dress fairly comfortably and to put on your best game face.

And you did. To some extent, you really did.

But you’d finished getting ready hours in advance, something you blamed on nerves, and having that much time to kill with such nerves was dangerous.

Simple makeup turned a bit more extravagant, you had tried on nearly every outfit in your possession, you’d even eyed your hair curler on more than one occasion.

Comfortable. What the Hell was that even supposed to mean?

Your only solution had been to text the man of the hour himself, something to busy your thumbs instead of twiddling them or involving them in taking your date night look several steps over just comfortable.

YOU: okay, so. can you define ‘dressing comfortably’?

EDDIE: According to Google, “dressing in a way that makes you feel at ease in your body” :)

YOU: fuck off. you know that’s not what i meant.

Still no clues. He wasn’t caving so easily to your pestering. You should have known better, considering he’d been professionally dodging any questions or inquiries you had regarding the date for the last twenty four hours.

EDDIE: Don’t overthink it, sweetheart.

That certainly didn’t help. Not even in the slightest. 

You don’t even reply to his text, already back to pacing your dorm before you finally cave to an impulsive decision you’d been grappling with for hours now. 

There was a newish, sporty skirt in the bottom of your drawers. It was comfortable, it had built-in shorts, and it looked damn good on you. The hem fell right around mid-thigh and always flared in an overly satisfying fashion when you’d spin while wearing it. The material of the pleats was nearly impossible to wrinkle. It wasn’t overly soft against your palms as you still nervously smoothed it down once you’d shimmied it on, but you still repeated the motion in hopes of soothing some of your nerves.

You’re sure it’s the wrong option until Eddie sees you in it.

He texts when he’s on his way and you find yourself bounding outside to wait for him far too early to be reasonable. He hadn’t even arrived until after your back had nearly become one with the brick exterior of the dorm building's front wall, leaning into the scratch of the clay on your shoulder blade a welcome distraction until you heard the roar of a motorcycle engine. 

You nearly grow dizzy from the sudden rush of nerves.

This is really happening. You’re about to go on a date with Eddie, the first time of what you hope will be many to come. 

“Took you long enough, Munson,” you snark loud enough for him to hear as he clicks the Yamaha’s kickstand into place right by the vibrant red curb. There’s a sign not even a full foot away from where he’s standing that clearly spells out NO PARKING. 

Oh.

Oh.

If you hadn’t already been riddled with nerves, your knees would have gone weak at the sight of him. 

Since when is that dressing casual and comfortable? 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” he shoots right back as he lifts the helmet off his head, and something inside of you clenched tightly at the sight with no plans to unwind any time soon.

Dark wash jeans plaster his legs, heavy combat boots smacking against the pavement as he walks to meet you halfway. The black shirt he’s donning isn’t extravagant, but something in the way that t-shirt material stretches across his chest has you burning from the inside out. He’s even gone so far as to tuck the shirt into the jeans, his black leather belt on show as he hugs the helmet below his bicep. And his normal leather jacket — you don’t believe you’ve ever seen it look better, ever seen it fit his shoulders so snugly. He’s dressed to perfectly match the all black bike, the image of a bad boy straight out of every cheesy movie you’d ever seen. 

The only thing that breaks the illusion is the boyish grin pulling the arrival of his dimples along with it as he watches you push off the wall. His eyes are sparkling as you approach him, a constellation of hope and new beginnings twinkling right before you. 

He’s not sorry that you waited on him. Not in the slightest. Especially when those starry eyes travel over your appearance.

You have to force yourself to tsk, because otherwise you might end up just another pile of ash for the poor landscapers to sweep up, “Haven't you heard it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?” 

You stop in your steps just far enough to catch the way his eyes take you in. Drinking slowly. Following the trace of the just fancy enough tank top that you’d chosen to balance the skirt. Lingering on the plush of your inner thighs, barely peeking out the bottom of your chosen outfit for the night.

You almost start to feel self conscious until he lets out a little sigh, nearly a whimper as his eyes trail back up to find yours.

“I’m sure I have,” he chokes out, composure momentarily vanished as you distract him so easily, “But aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

“I could say the same about you.” 

You’re like a shark. If you stop swimming in the upstream flirtations, you’ll drown instantaneously in his big brown eyes.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you swear you see a hint of a blush across the highs of his cheek bones and sides of his neck as he holds out the helmet for you, “At least with me, it will.” 

“Even the top secret location of this date?” you ask as you take the helmet, considering putting up a fight. You still hated him not wearing one for your expense, and you weren’t exactly eager for any sort of helmet hair, “Do I have to wear-“

He knows the end of your sentence before you even finish, “Yes. No exceptions; you have to wear it every time you ride.”

“Every time?” 

“It’s for safety.” 

“Isn’t it sort of unsafe for you to go without one?” 

“You’re wearing the helmet,” he sighs, nose twitching with indignation as he holds staunchly onto the position, “And to answer your other question, no. I guess flattery will get you almost everywhere, but it’s a surprise.” 

You fiddle with the chin straps, looking down as you feel his gaze burning the top of your head from this angle, “Fine. But we really should just get me my own helmet. You need to wear one, too. And…” you look back up, pausing before you properly put on the piece of safety equipment, “It’s a little oversized. You know, considering it was meant to fit your big head first.” 

He narrows his eyes, still lit up with a sort of playfulness you haven’t grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of. 

You like him quite a bit more than you bargained for. A lot more than five hundred dollars, or twenty four hours, ever would have summarized. 

“We can go helmet shopping another day.” 

We. Not just him, not just you. But you and him. A unit. A couple.

“It’s a date,” you whisper just before you slide on the helmet. You completely miss the wildfire that the ghost of a blush has finally become. You completely miss the way that your talk of you two together, you two as a couple with a future, affects him just as his has an effect on you. 

Helmet hair is worth it, you decide, once you’ve saddled onto the bike behind him and he revs up the engine once more. You’re not as shy as you had been on that fateful night the week before, quick to wrap your arms around his middle and let your chest press hard against his back. The leather crinkles against the contact, the heat of him radiating, and you think you could spend forever like that. 

You’re almost upset that you can’t smell his cologne through the helmet. That once terrible scent of boy. 

Every curve and every slow stop is another excuse to cling to him tighter, every red light a reason for him to turn his head and catch a glimpse of you with a small grin that never once falters. You swear at one of the lights, when he revs his engine in a particularly rowdy fashion right as the light turns green and takes off particularly fast, you can hear his laughter over the loud wind mingling with the roaring engine. You know you can feel it, vibrating in his chest right along with your own that gets lost in the chaos of the unusually busy Tuesday night street. 

When he pulls into the parking lot behind the older building, you catch sight of the neon sign out front and find yourself laughing again. 

“Bowling?” you question, yanking the helmet off less than gracefully as he stands off the bike you’d just swung yourself off of, “You’re taking me bowling?” 

He takes the helmet from you, suddenly looking a bit shy as he averts his gaze, “Not just any bowling. It’s… It’s the coolest bowling alley you will ever go on a first date at.” 

“You say that to every girl you bring here?” 

You’re just teasing him, trying to poke fun rather than succumb to all the fluttering that bruises your inner chest and stomach. But then he has to ruin your fun, strike a match and set you aflame so adroitly.  

“Only the prettiest ones.” 

You should continue the banter, challenge him on just who else fell into that category, but you can’t. It’s in that glimmer of his eyes and the indent of his dimples, the way he looks at you as he slowly rises and somehow softens his gaze all while keeping a threat of a bite beneath the tone. His eyes tell you that you are, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s referring to. That in this moment, you begin and you end his world, and not even the commotion of traffic or nip in the air that creeps up as the summer sun sets can deter his attention being set solely on you.

But his tone suggests something far more dangerous. He says it like you’re a prey, an unattainable catch that he’ll be chasing for the entire night. A wicked growl to that voice you’ve been falling asleep to over the phone far more than you care to admit in just a short week. 

He says it like he’s going to ruin you. As if he hasn’t already injected himself into your veins, as if he isn’t the gasoline drowning and raging the burn within you. 

But he keeps up the gentleman persona in the short walk up to the door of the establishment. Holds out his hand for yours to fit perfectly into, guides you to the inner sidewalk as cars fly past and the only thing between you and them is him. 

 The hunt is on from the moment he opens that door for you. 

“Ever the gentleman,” you muse, voice hardly above a whisper as you brush past him and finally catch that smell of boy. 

You think you’d drown in his cologne now if he gave you the chance. Bury your face in his chest, wrap your arms around him and press any inch of your own bare skin to his. 

“Always,” it would have been a weak response if he’d only said it and nodded his head, but he takes it a step further. Right as you pass him, entering the brisk AC, his hand ghosts over the expanse of your lower back. Fingertips nimbly brushing right above the band of that skirt, grazing your tank top just hard enough for you to feel it and shiver. 

It doesn’t stop there. The back and forth, the chase, the hunt.

The way he makes sure your knuckles brush his as he hands you your shoes, even more brushes of his palm flat against your lower back repetitively, the way he insists on a heavier ball that makes his arms strain and muscles display. Over the chatter from the bowling alley’s fairly nice bar and the music trickling out of the overhead speakers, you’re sure that your heartbeat has joined the ranks of audible noises to echo the nice haunt. You’re positive he can hear every thump, can pinpoint the exact moments that poor aching muscle inside your chest begins to race. 

You go for a smaller weighted ball. You don’t think you could handle anything heavier with your current case of weak knees.

“Only an eight pounder?” Eddie tuts at you as you approach your designated lane again, “Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” 

No, I can’t. Your fault, really.

“I have weak arms,” you try to defend yourself as you rotate the red ball in your hands. 

His favorite color. It hadn’t been intentional, but the swirling shades of stark scarlet and deep maroons is a nice touch. 

“Poor baby,” he teases, leaning into you as you deposit the ball right behind his own ball on the track where it already rests.

A twelve pounder. A smoky quartz design, black base swirling with misty white and gold accents. Far prettier than yours by a landslide. 

And fitting for the pretty boy you’re faced with when you turn to watch him shedding his leather jacket onto the bench a few steps away. 

“Not all of us are some big, strong macho man,” you scowl insincerely, moving to sit beside him and follow his lead in switching out shoes, “I’m betting now that by halfway through the game, you’ll be caving and begging to use my ball, Munson.” 

You’re looking down as you casually say it, one shoe already half off and unaware of just how close he had gotten until his hand reaches over. Not even a second later, he has your chin pinched between his fingers, gentle as it guides you and forces you to look at him, “Careful. Bets seem to be awfully dangerous when it comes to the two of us.” 

Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. 

The graze of those fingers against your jaw leaves a trail of ash, burning that lingers and thrums beneath your skin, heart officially skipping beats rather than merely speeding up. You’re coming to realize that when it comes to keeping up with Eddie Munson in his element, in all his charm and flirtatious banter, you’re a bit hopeless.

He has you trapped under his thumb — metaphorically and literally.

“Are you always this flirtatious with all your dates?” you spit out against your better judgment.

Why do I keep bringing up his previous flames? Do I really care? Do I really want to put myself through the torture of hearing about all of the girls, or guys, he’s wooed before me? 

The same glittering eyes, the same hidden smirk from earlier. “Only the prettiest ones.” 

“You keep saying that,” you mumble, chin pressing into his fingertips against their hold, “Just how many pretty dates have you had?” 

The pride softens in an instant. His gaze is less sharp, grin less predatory as he raises his eyebrows. 

“Does it really matter?” 

You can’t help it. Your mind races ahead of you before you can stop it; you’re plagued in an instant with images of how many dates, how many other people he had indulged in over the year you two had wasted hating each other. You try to recall overhearing him describe any of those dates, try to remember if Nancy ever mentioned Eddie passing up one of the hangouts for a romantic endeavor.

You come up empty handed, but it doesn’t stop the overthinking. 

“I guess not,” you feebly answer, unable to tear your eyes from him. 

I guess not is really code for it matters so much more than I care to admit. An impossible riddle you can’t even expect him to pick up on. 

His hand falls from your chin and finds home on your bare knee, warm palm swallowing it up. He gives it a squeeze, and you wonder for a moment if maybe he can read your secretive language. Maybe he’s seeing right through your overconfident front, maybe he has felt every racing of your pulse. 

Maybe, he’s as nervous as you are.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t think you can bear another moment of this new intimacy. It had been easier when the two of you were on a ticking clock, confined to his apartment and parameters of a bet that never really mattered. Vulnerability had less of an edge when you could yearn and pine to see it flourish in the real world — but now, here it was, twisting away within you both a week later and pricking away as the stakes at hand come to light. 

“Are you ready for me to absolutely demolish your ass at this game?” you joke.

“Demolish me? That’s some big talk for someone using an eight pound ball, babe.”

“It’s not about how much you’re packing, pretty boy,” you scoff, “Just that you know how to use it.” 

He smiles slowly, but the quick squeeze of his hand tells you the vulnerability is here to stay. He feels that cutting edge too, and he’s not shying away. 

He leans right into it, just as he does your personal space, “Bring it on.” 

—

“You’re cheating!”

“I’m not!”

“You are! Who the fuck gets three strikes in a row?” 

Eddie strolls back towards you, self-satisfied smirk curling his lips and his hips swaying with arrogance as you continue to pout at his sudden show of sportsmanship, “I believe the answer is me, sweetheart. Wanna see me make it four?” 

“I hope you just jinxed yourself,” you scowl as you hop up off the couch and Eddie swaggers right past you, hardly affected by the palm you smack into the center of his chest for good measure, “I hope you roll nothing but gutter balls the rest of the game, you prick.” 

“Like you have been?” 

“Burn in Hell.” 

Eddie’s cackle echoes through the fairly busy alley. It wasn’t overwhelming, the lanes of either side of yours staying empty, the only other groups several ways down. So far, the date has been good. Even if Eddie was wiping the floor with your severe lack of skill. 

Both of you had opted for Cokes rather than alcohol, Eddie had ordered some sort of platter with onion rings and mozzarella sticks that the two of you had easily been devouring between turns. Playful banter had been kept up easier than breathing, barking words without bite being snapped back and forth loud enough for the entire establishment to hear the two of you being exceptionally childish. 

At some point, your nerves had melted. And you didn’t even need a lick of alcohol in your system for it to happen. 

“Try to aim for the pins this time,” Eddie continues to taunt you from where he’s spread out on the brown faux leather bench you’d been taking turns warming the seat of. 

Your fingers slide into the holes of your ball with ease, courtesy of the grease from all your snacking, “Try shutting the fuck up.” 

More of his laughter sounds off, and you nearly trip on your walk up to the markings on the linoleum wood flooring. It’s a nice sound; a beautiful response to words that could easily read identical to how the two of you used to fight. But these aren’t fighting words, they’re words passed between two… two… friends? 

Is that how you should continue to classify this? Were you and Eddie really still just friends? 

The sound of your ball stuttering in hops across the beginnings of the lane replaces his laughter 

No. Easy question – there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the two of you were definitely not friends. Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken. And for the remainder of this date, you could live with that. 

Eddie sucks in an audible breath, letting the air whistle between his teeth as your ball veers at the last second and misses the pins entirely. Again. 

“Th-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt him, spinning on your heel and holding up a warning finger. It’s harder to hold in your own grin when Eddie’s already smiling into his fist, leaning his elbows onto his thighs as his big eyes peer at you, clearly amused, “Don’t say a word.” 

His knuckles dig further into his mouth.

“I meant to do that.” 

His eyebrows shoot up, still not speaking.

“It takes real talent to avoid pins like that.” 

He leans over a bit further, and you swear you hear him emit a snort from behind that damn fist. 

You open your mouth to continue with the bit when the clattering of your ball returning to the ball rack comes from behind you. Eddie only shrugs cheekily as he finally drops his fist to grab for a mozzarella stick, his smile contained but those damn dimples still flashing you brilliantly. 

Without taking your eyes off him, you hold up a warning finger for emphasis once more, trying to bite down any signs of your own amusement as you take a few steps back in the direction of the rack and repeat yourself, “I meant to do that.” 

“Sure you did,” he muses before taking a bite of the mozzarella stick smothered in marinara sauce. 

“I did.”

“I believe you.” 

“I-”

It seems the Universe is in the business of interrupting you two. As if it seems all that hope and potential flourishing in the space between you two and decides that simply won’t do. As if it’s too much. 

Maybe it is. But maybe, just maybe, you’re enjoying too much. 

Suddenly, before you can even finish your sentence or grab for your ball, the lights of the alley have dimmed. A few spotlights over the alleys themselves light up, erratically waving patches of light over the shining floor as the music that had been playing overhead cuts out to be replaced with some poor employee’s voice. 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen-” you and Eddie share a confused glance, “-The time is officially ten o’clock, meaning nineties night has officially begun! Have fun, and enjoy yourselves as we throw you back to the decade of Nirvana and Beanie Babies for the rest of the night with these straight jams.” 

Your face scrunches up in a comical cringe before the buzzing static of the speaker can even cut out and the beginning lines of Say My Name by Destiny’s Child begins to play. 

You aren’t entirely sure of how it happens. Maybe it’s all the playfulness in there, in all that electric teasing at the tip of Eddie’s tongue and all that hopelessness bubbling up in your chest as it dawns on you of the fact you were finally on a proper date with Eddie. Maybe it’s simply a good night for you to continue to make a fool of yourself, and Eddie sees it as a chance he’ll always be right there with you, prepared to make a scene as he follows your lead. 

He stands up to approach you where you’re still rooted beside the rack, matching your own grin that blooms genuinely at the sound of the song. 

It was one of your favorite’s. A small fact about yourself you don’t think you’ve ever told Eddie – that you can remember. 

It’s small, at first. Just mouthing along to the first verse as he moves towards you, recognizing that excitement lighting up in you, shimmying his shoulders ever so slightly. He looks like an idiot – he’s absolutely your idiot. 

“Did you know it was nineties night?” you mumble as he gets closer, shaking your head slightly.

“Stevie might have mentioned something about you enjoying nineties nostalgia,” he drawls, still taking sure steps towards you. 

“Did you ask him for advice for our first date, Eddie?” 

“No,” he scoffs quickly, finally close enough to grab you gently by your hips. He’s nowhere near manhandling you, but it’s still reminding you of the game, of the hunt, at play. You’re his prey and he’s officially making his move. Carelessly, nonchalantly. “He mentioned it ages ago. When they were trying to convince me you weren’t all bad.” 

Your smile widens, “Was this around the time I threw a glass at your head, by chance?” 

“Maybe.” 

The dulcet instrumental of the song continues on overhead, beginning to pick up in beat, making you nod your head along as Eddie finally starts to tug you closer. 

You’re in public, and you both should know better than to make absolute fools of yourselves, but it doesn’t seem to matter when all you can really see is him. 

Your friends had also spent ages trying to convince you that Eddie wasn’t all bad, but you’d always known that much. You’d seen glimpses of the good in him from that very first night. When he’d made you feel welcome, when he’d given you a life-preserver to cling to when you’d felt most out of your element. You knew that Eddie Munson was one of those people who had a hardwired habit of trying to make people feel welcome.

Even in a room full of people, when you’d be non-stop embarrassing yourself endlessly. 

All his jests had been further proof, but when he sees your rock on your heels as you enjoy the music, he takes it a step further. He grabs one of your hands with his free one, keeping a hold of your waist, encouraging all your giddiness over the song. Every single person in the establishment could be staring at the two of you – you didn’t care. 

When he starts dramatically mouth along to the chorus of the song, swinging you around slightly, it takes very little provocation for you to join in with him. 

You both could’ve taken a step further, and properly sang along in the most obnoxious voices possible, but you don’t. There’s still the slightest blanket of security there as Eddie keeps the antics mostly silent, reserving his dramatic reenactments of vocal runs for your eyes only. Even yanking your hand up close to his mouth, as though it was a microphone, as he swings you around again. You quickly become a giggling disarray, hardly able to keep up your own footing, eyes squinting with joy and what must be the messiest and ugliest smile possible showing off all your teeth. The type of smile and laughter you’d normally try to hide on instinct. The kind of smile you cover up. 

But you can’t, because Eddie is keeping his sturdy grip on your hands with his own, and he’s drinking in every second of your joy. He’s vibrant as he watches the way he’s entertaining you. Shamelessly staring, making his antics falter. 

“Baby, say my name,” he purposefully sings along dramatically, quietly but terribly off-key.

You can’t help but let out a snort, “Eddie, you’re an idiot.” 

He ignores you, and continues to give you your own private concert, switching rapidly between singing the main song and the backup vocals, which only makes your stomach further ache with laughter. 

This is what you’d been yearning for the last year. This silly side of him, an absolute fool who couldn’t care less about the stares of others. 

The seductive side of him was enticing. The honest version of him nice. But this side of him? Carefree, rowdy, indiscreet? It may be your favorite yet. 

Only the sound of a nearby teen couple mocking you two break the moment, just as you’ve begun to jokingly whisper-sing back into Eddie’s pretend microphone made of your joined fists. They make what must be vomiting noises, and you catch the tail end of one of them jokingly poking a finger towards their outstretched tongue as you finally sigh deeply. 

You should probably feel embarrassed. Later on, when you find yourself in bed later tonight and attempt to find some rest, you’ll probably ruminate and burn yourself alive with all the embarrassment. But not right now; not with your boy still in front of you, smiling just as desperately wide as you were. 

His dimples would probably consume him if you let him go on any longer. 

“Eddie,” you choke out through residual laughter, tugging your hands free as the song starts to fade out. You make no move to remove yourself from him, though. Your arms find home around his shoulders, hands splayed just below the nape of his neck, “People are staring.” 

“Good,” he snipes back, finally dropping the act but not the glee, “Probably entranced by how pretty you look right now.” 

“Pretty? I probably look like a loser. They’re probably already engraving a trophy for world’s ugliest smile-”

“Oh, don’t do that,” his forehead falls against yours, rolling his eyes, “Shut up and take the compliment. I love your smile.” 

There’s something unspoken there. He loves your smile, yes, but he’s also been denied of it for a very long year. It’s the first step of making it up to you, making up for lost time. 

Making a fool out of himself, just to see that goddamn smile. 

With your arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose bumping yours, the game of bowling is all but forgotten. Even the teens, still side-eyeing the two of you, can be pushed aside in your mind. 

All your insecurities of the night that have crept in the shadows become insignificant. You don’t care how many dates Eddie has been on before you, you don’t care that you’ve clearly become a prey caught in his web. You don’t even care about the way you’re losing. 

It’s the perfect first date. When one of his hands wander, playing with the hem of your skirt, knuckles and rings brushing against bare skin, it’s perfect. 

“Hey,” you whisper, “I’ve got a question.” 

“I have an answer.” 

“You sound very sure there, big guy.” 

“I am sure,” he pulls his face away just a bit, but his gentle touch against your thigh lings. The other hand stays warm against your lower back, keeping you pressed up against him, “What’s up, sweetheart?” 

Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken.

Hearing him say it out-loud will still be nice, though. 

“Does this mean we’re official?” you breathe out, trying to cling to all your bravery and not let it slip away, “Like – God, I sound like a high schooler right now – does this mean we’re… you know…”

“Dating?” he’s grinning, unable to hide his giddiness. 

“Yeah. Dating.” 

The hand tracing circles on your exposed outer thigh rises up to your cheek, brushing along it as he tucks a bit of your hair back. You swear you see it shaking out of the corner of your eye. 

“I sure would like to be,” it was shaking. You know it surely, because his voice is as well. Vulnerable and honest, just how you like him, “We don’t have to tell the others, we can take it slow, but-”

“But we’re dating.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement – an affirmation. You and Eddie Munson, the man you swore you hated just over a week ago, were dating. 

He only nods, and you consider the way that his dimples might just swallow you whole instead of him. 

Not enemies, not friends – lovers. It has quite the nice ring to it. 

“Well, in that case,” you finally pull away, dropping your arms slowly and letting your fingers catch on the chain of the necklace he currently wears. A red guitar pick, something you’ll surely learn the story behind soon enough. “Better go and roll that fourth strike, boyfriend.” 

His head rolls back, and a joking groan falls from his lips as his neck stretches and nearly distracts you momentarily, “Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re making fun of me, you little shit.” 

Another laugh falls from your lips as you step around him, quirking an eyebrow. Perfect first date, indeed. 

“Get used to it, Munson.”

“I plan to, Sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #beyond the hours #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #their love language is just being mean to each other i'll be honest #i've been nervous about posting extra content about them for a while but save the leaves #i might revamp the masterlist #also side note but i also think reader's outfit would totally get a scolding solely because that is not safe attire for riding on a bike #eddie should have shoved her into his jacket and scowled about it but he's just easily distracted by how pretty he finds her

[ladythornofrivia]

Lady with Teal Eyes || Aemond x Aunt!Hightower Reader (Part One)

word count: 2,733

author’s note: i’m sorry that i didn’t post much stories, as I’ve been reblogging and changing themes in my profile. i’m trying my best, but I’ll make up for it.

warnings: incest, cockwarming, teasing, sucking, p in v, rough play, flirting, wholesome moment, jealous aemond, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, second hand embarrassment, dark content, mentions of su*cide, Aemond being too touchy with his aunt, degradation, humiliation.

summary: Aemond meets his aunt for the first time, and there’s more than meets the eye. (there will be three parts).

There hasn’t been a day that you never left your homeland. All in prosperity. All in solitude, all in mindful thoughts that even the castle walls were unable to perceive. Oldtown is known for the oldest kingdom within Westeros.

We light the way, those are the words from House Hightower, a tall, silver tower with a green light of flames atop. Members of the Hightower court are known to be proud and resilience. Perhaps too greedy to your taste. Less fickle to their needs, their desires, their secrets, their ambition.

All minds think alike, as they said. But your mind is unalike from theirs.

There hasn’t been a single day where your life change—steady as it goes. But when your older sister, Alicent, sent a letter to you from a raven fled from miles, you instantly ripped the seal and unveiled her letters, written in neat cursive. In the days where you can recall that Alicent taught you to read and write, before accompanying your father, Otto Hightower, to aid the ailing king and his throne.

In King’s Landing, where Aegon has set and had trees felled after his conquest in Westeros. The stories of dragonlords and ladies has caught you into a slighted dot of peculiarity. But with your father, you knew that your father wanted more than being as the Hand of the King. Like any folk in Oldtown, he’s all in the same cloak of mind and heart as the rest. The only difference is he has resided in King’s Landing with the Targaryens, warming the throne with Alicent’s political stead.

With you, as Alicent’s half-sister, one thing you adored about her is her resilience, no matter how the power struggle may have been, Alicent held her head high, it inspired you to do the same cause, not for the greater good, but for you to steady your heart. With Alicent’s brown eyes, anyone would be easily swayed at her beauty. With your eyes like glowing water, the subjects were to assume that you’re either a sea creature in the ocean, or have been reincarnated as a woman. Common folks assumed that you’re a goddess sent by Maiden herself. But others theorized you’re born in the sacred pond within the forest.

Despite the nonsensical rumors, you carried out your duties dulled within life, but with your brother, Gwayne Hightower, entered in your chambers without a warning.

“Sister!”

“Good heavens, you gave me a fright,” you screeched, hand clutching over your chest.

“A word from the raven,” he resumed, pulling out the letter. “It’s from our dear sister.”

She hasn’t written you a letter for months. Understanding of her high authoritative position, thankfully enough you aren’t the queen. You couldn’t bear to think about gifting children into the world from your maidenhood.

“Alicent!” Departing from the chair, you snatched the letter from Gwayne’s hand and ripped the letter open, straightening the scrolled paper.

My dearest sister,

I regret to inform you that I cannot visit in the Oldtown due to personal circumstances that our father has been trifled with the matters in King’s Landing. As queen, I must fully prioritize my duties and smite the inconsiderate undutiful thought of others. My dear husband, King Viserys, has been unwell as of late, growing slower day by day, but still the same man who loves his histories and shed upon endless favoritism on his daughter and her plain-featured sons, as well his miniatures he rarely finished. As of this moment, we are preparing the feast for the upcoming celebration. Misery and dread and politics has been my company, and I’d be happy if you come to King’s Landing and stay here for more than a month. I also send Gwayne and his men to escort you back. I hope you still have the new dresses and jewels the seamstress sorted to your taste; I always know that you hated attire that itched your flesh or suffocating. Words cannot expressed about how I miss the sweetness of your smile and laughter. We shall meet soon.

Signed,

Alicent Hightower

Jumping with joy, your body lunged at Gwayne, locking him into a tight hug, slightly hopping in place with a big grin stretched onto your lips.

“Have my things ready, brother,” you said, hasting, forgetting about the silks and fabrics in your hands.

“But you need more time. You’ll stay in King’s Landing as our queenly sister instructed.”

“Send the maids, then. I can’t do this alone.”

“You mustn’t make haste!” Gwayne shouted as you ran off, never minding the silks on the ground only for him to pick up.

“The sooner the better,” you shouted back.

~~~

The trailed ship took no more than three days to reach King’s Landing. Alicent hasn’t mentioned anything particular to the celebration. But you have come to acknowledge that Alicent lessened the details.

By the time the ships rested at the shore, you rushed down to the clear path and greeted your father, who was rather cold and emotionless. Nevertheless, you gave the courtesy of shallow inclination of your neck bent down. Though your heart shattered at the motionless greeting; a chilled wind spiraled on your thickened sleeves.

“Father,” you said, grinning ear to ear.

“Queen Alicent awaits,” is all he said, then left without abiding on you.

“But—”

“Ser Gwayne, escort this lady in the Red Keep,” he wasn’t saying it with care.

This lady.

Months without communication and souvenirs, you’d ought it’ll soften your father’s resolve regarding onto the estrangement.

Another clash of heartbreak has struck again. But it comes as no surprise.

Both of you hadn’t spoke since of his second wife—your mother’s—passing.

As numb as it may be, the small pang in your heart resolved again as Gwayne Hightower escorted you to the high steeps close, reaching the royal grounds of Red Keep.

~~~

Infiltrating from climbing the steps until reaching the indoors, the green queen appeared.

Your sister.

“Alicent,” you rushed and clung her to embrace.

“Sister, how good of you to come,” Alicent replied.

The halls greeted you in cold and dreaded air clinging onto your sleeves, goosebumps flooded over your skin, the thick air of candles and torches has impaled your stomach. You didn’t like this feeling. These halls, darkened in heralds of statues and stars that your pupils recognizant.

Faith of the Seven.

Hightowers held their religion in the highest regard, while you, don’t cherish the ideologies of the religion, filled with fanaticism and hypocrisy. Even Targaryens have the queerest customs, of marrying brother to sister, relative to relative since Aegon I. It dire consequences of genetics and birth, and the fruition of a child birth into an unshakable world of politics and desires. According to the Citadel, in secret debate, those who are born of incest are nothing but sort of monsters lurking, a defect to a bloodline.

The Targaryens disagree—couldn’t care less, of course. As you often heard of keeping the bloodline pure.

Bloodline pure. People speculated that the Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Thus their words ‘Fire and Blood’ is in order. In Valyria, their source is magic and dragons, long before volcanic eruptions swept the lands and dragons into ashes. The last Targaryens resided in Westeros, and thus, their last kind is dwindling, hence creating pure bloodline. As theatrically hysterical as it is, you trudged along the halls.

“It has been so long since I saw you last,” Alicent began.

“It has, but we rarely sent letters as of late.”

“Being a queen is no simple task. Our father’s ambition has gotten stronger.”

“Your father,” you said bitterly.

“My dear sister,” Alicent resumed, her voice soothed. “Father is doing his best to stabilize the realm.”

“Cold, cruel and calculated,” you answered. “Your strength and dutiful as queen is one of the things I admire about you. But, sister, it feels as if my existence is no longer needed. I feel as if I’m useless. My mother received no love from your father.”

The doe-eyed look in Alicent’s eyes protruding. “Sister, I—“”

“Half-sisters,” you reminded. “Everyone thought I was some sort of creature that shouldn’t belong in the realm. I’m no fool; I could hear everyone whisper, even closed doors.”

“Creature or not, you’re still a Hightower. We share the same blood. Nothing will ever change between you and I.”

“But your father will never accept me,” you replied.

Alicent clasped her hands onto yours. “The next time we see each other, I’ll be visiting the Oldtown.”

“You said that the last time on our previous letters,” you chimed. “Let him stabilize the realm alone.”

“That is why you’re here. I needed time apart from the council and subjects,” Alicent reasoned. “Men are often ambitious with their politics and trifling over gold than their wives.”

“It appears so,” you agreed, huffing.

Ironically, Alicent served men, and still is. First Jahaerys, then Otto, then Viserys. Though you wouldn’t so recklessly give your personal opinion away to Alicent.

“We have yet to explore the grounds. We must rest at the gardens. I know how much you love staying in the gardens.”

Your cheeky smile was showing. “I do.”

Alicent squeezed your hand. “Let us be off. It’s considered bad luck if we let our food grow cold.”

“Never knew that it involves bad luck.”

“I’ve been told.”

“By who?”

Not once, Alicent answered.

~~~

“Make yourself comfortable,” Alicent said, indicating the spare chair, and watched you sat with ease, eyeing the lavish outdoors where the Weirwood stood as main view.

“Quite nice out,” you complimented.

This was Alicent meant when she said gardens.

“I chose this spot for a reason,” Alicent said as the servants settled the meal over the table—bowed and left. And the last servant entered, placing a stacked candied almonds and candied plums on a gold platter, alongside of Dornish wine.

Alicent watched your eyes lit up.

“I took the liberty of having the kitchen staff ready for your sweet-tooth,” she clarified.

“You know me well, sister.” You grinned.

“My lady,” a soothing masculine voice said behind you.

“Ser Criston,” Alicent addressed, glancing. “I’m occupied as of this moment.”

“There has been urgent matters regarding to your son.”

Puzzled, Alicent spoke with, “Which son?”

Appalled, your eyes darted at her. On the other hand, you never retain information from Alicent.

“Aegon,” Criston answered, eyes turning away. “I’m afraid his excursions have rather been…” Then his dark brown eyes flicked to yours, his mouth opened, choosing his words carefully.

“We’ll speak no more of it,” Alicent pleaded. “I’m under the liberty of entertaining my sister at the moment. Do ignore Aegon’s excursions for now.”

Somewhere in between the lines, you knew Alicent’s calm demeanor struck hard when the excursions take place, wrath kept within, as you read between Alicent’s lines furrowed on her forehead. Ser Criston glimpsed at you and bowed before withdrawing from the outdoors.

“My apologies,” Alicent said to you in a dreaded voice. “The excursions in the daylight hour upon King’s Landing hasn’t ended.”

“I never knew you had a son,” you said, munching on the candied almonds.

Alicent swallowed the contents of the food. “I mentioned it once before in the letter. That I was having a babe in my belly.”

You pondered for a moment. It was back when Alicent married Viserys and carried a child in her.

“But you never mentioned that it’s a son,” you commented.

“But I’m sure you heard Aegon’s name the moment he arrived into the world.”

Your teeth clenched. “I can assure you I did.” The Oldtown spoke of Aegon in high regards, but as you grew older, you never hear much of Aegon’s doings, hoping to meet your nephew, you waited, but as usual, you sister never once sent letters to offer you an invite.

“Things have been hectic for the past years, and I doubt that’ll cease. With the Iron Throne empty and with all that it stands, we’re keeping the place intact with politics and debate,” Alicent reasoned.

You stayed in silence.

“If you would like,” Alicent continued, “I would be happy to take you to the gallery. The Red Keep has been nothing but a dread. I shall escort you and give you a tour to the Red Keep unless you want someone else to—”

“No, I’d be thrilled if you were to accompany me,” you paused, then said, “sister.”

Alicent gently beamed at that.

~~~

When you and Alicent both went inside the Red Keep, the royal subjects and guards bowed before the green queen as their eyes lingered onto yours, and an incoherent of whispers were passed to your ears.

The sister of the green queen.

And as you ascended the staircases, from there, you saw the shaded eyes of violet and curled hair—a young girl, a few years younger than you.

“Mother, have you seen my—” The girl’s youthful stare darted to yours, backing away gradually.

“This is my sister, (y/n), your aunt,” Alicent introduced. “This is Princess Helaena, my daughter,” Alicent said to you.

“A pleasure.” As you made an inclination to your neck, smiling to the princess as you hadn’t realized that the others accompanied none other by two young men behind Helaena, both with Targaryen features.

Your heart stopped—leapt with warmth—when you first glanced at the tall prince with gold, lithe hair as his other eye covered with eyepatch.

“These are my other sons…” Alicent said, searching for the third son with a slight frown on her features. “Where is Aegon?”

“Drunk as usual,” Daeron rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“That blasted fool…” Alicent hissed, then smiled merrily in a way to appease herself. “I hope you and Lady (y/n) would get along.”

“Yes, I remember now! You’re that boy—that cupbearer in the council!” you said to Daeron.

Daeron beamed. “I am proud to serve my mother’s family in Oldtown. Ashamed we never met circumstances in the Reach, yet here we are!” he chuckled. “For my dear father’s name day contained in private ceremony, I’m glad you came.”

You sensed the sarcasm in the word “father”, but shrugged it off.

The dread of unwanted unwelcome washed away with glee. “Indeed. I shall look forward to the festivities.”

Aemond lifted and placed his kiss upon the back of your hand. A kiss placed with gentle fire ignited your dulled soul, envision with flames of blush blaring your dewy cheeks. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

Breath caught in your throat, eyeing on his hand still lingering his intertwine fingers to your skin. “Likewise, my prince…”

For the first time in your life, the gentleness of a dragon has captured your heart and soul.

As for Aemond, with the slighted news of your presence, there’s nothing more than mere maiden who needs to be soiled with his perversions trapped and coiled and enflamed in between his legs. When he first laid his gaze on you, he pictured your flushed skin wrapped with his own, his lips captured yours as his presence trapped into your mind for eternity. But alas, with a wandering thought just now, it wasn’t like him. He mustn’t be capricious and avarice on the spot.

With your grand arrival, Aemond had already decided you’ll become his.

One day at the time, he reminded himself.

“It’s unusual for you to be courteous to someone,” Alicent commented.

“I never wish to scare anyone with my presence, mother,” Aemond said. “It is my duty as a prince to make our special guest comfortable.”

A hot tingle between your legs stirred as you eyed on him—on his lips—how rolled off words with his tongue, finding yourself imagining at the thought of your nephew tasting your folds as you ride him, warming the bed—riding him whilst lace and corset of your precious dress torn apart by his own rugged and young hands.

“He’s only being courteous like Prince Daeron,” you noted, clearing your throat. “Everyone must fulfill their role to the realm. We mustn’t decay our customs to rudeness.”

Aemond’s eye gleamed at your flushing features whilst you looked at Alicent in the eye, you speak with assurance yet your body wavered, dying for your hungered coil in you—the scorch caged within your dress to be set free.

You cannot fool me, my princess, he thought.

In the end, nobody can fool a dragon like him.

Taglist: @daonenonlysandman @toodlesxcuddles @kittendoll05 @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @kukulyarva @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @herathedreamer @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @velunis @nananeptune @domithebomi @moonseye @faesspace @rxixo31 @tm-starr @xinthia19 @popsycles @naiaaramena @aleemendoza2425-blog @letmehavemyfictionalmen @ammo23 @blackswxnn @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @qardasngan @justyelena @jolixtreesunn @runekisses @thought--bubble @remuslupinwife1 @evergreen9083 @foggypeacestarlight @dixie-elocin @galactict3a @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @kimsubin05 @mylosz0 @blackgaladriel @valeskafics

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #ao3 #archive of our own #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #dark aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #smut #fluff #angst #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #writers of tumblr #writeblr #writing #writer #write #read #multifandom #fandoms #writers #writers and poets

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

That’s What I Call Repressed Sexual Tension - A.A.

Pairings: Astarion x Fem!Reader (Paladin)

Warnings: 18+, Pining, Baldur’s Gate 3 Act I spoilers (I’ve only just now gotten to Act II), Smut (Sub!Reader x Dom!Astarion) – Fingering, P-in-V, Breast Fondling, NOT proofread, Astarion’s a bit of a perv – but still gentle, Fluff, Astarion is whipped (and calls you sickeningly sweet pet names), you’re kind of oblivious; I tried to make this as body-inclusive as I could, but still Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4,230

Summary: You were nearly certain that you hated Astarion and Astarion hated you. Until one day, after battle, you decide to partake in a wash. So does Astarion, much to your surprise. The truth of yours and Astarion’s true feelings towards one another is revealed.

A/N: Hey guys, welcome to the new hyperfixation! Right now I’m doing a playthrough of BG3 and I’m OBSESSED with Astarion. I’ve also read quite a few stories on here, and felt the need to provide my own as well. Please let me know what you think! Expect to see more Astarion in the future on this page!

God, you loathed Astarion. Or so you thought.

He was a selfish, reckless, devious pig. And he knew it too.

Little did you know, Astarion’s behaviors were exacerbated due to, well, you. Obviously his aura of cocky arrogancy radiated regardless of who was around, but around you he felt the need to… cover, more. Secretly, he was quite smitten for you. But obviously, he didn’t need you to know that. You had just finished battling it out against the goblins, which had been a tiring battle. Now, you were headed back to Emerald Grove. “Darling, you know, you didn’t have to smite him. That was kind of a waste of energy for you” Astarion sauntered over, making a quip at you. “You know, Ass, we won, didn’t we? Does it even matter? We’re going back to camp now; I’ll be resting soon.”

Ass was the nickname that you had so lovingly given him one night after he had drunk from you for the first time. You woke up to find him leaning over you, fangs exposed, ready to press them against your neck. After you had willingly allowed him to continue, you woke up woozy and drowsy, almost unable to walk. He came to check on you, making fun of your trembling. “Wow, darling. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who got lucky last night.” He winked.

“Shove it, you ass.” You snapped back. “Eh, I’ve been called worse, I assure you.” “Well, say hello to your new nickname, Ass.” “Quite clever darling, it’s almost as if it’s a shortened ver-“ you cut him off. “You ever want a taste of my blood again, you shut your mouth.” He clamped his mouth shut almost instantaneously, his lips forming into an impressive pout.

Since that day, Astarion had been relatively whipped by you. The sight of you trembling, the actual kindness that you displayed towards him in allowing him his first taste of “thinking” blood. God, he would trade all of his meals just for a taste of your blood again. He hadn’t gotten a taste again, but he frequently inquired about the subject and whether or not you’d be willing to allow him to indulge yet again. The real reason he had even said anything about your energy level post-battle was due to the fact that he would prefer you to save your energy for other circumstances, namely him drinking your blood – or other things. Other, dirtier things.

The trek back to camp was long and tiring. But you were alive, and that was all that mattered. You had Karlach and Gale along with you as well, thankfully. So you weren’t alone with the vampire. Although, he would have preferred it that way. He was hoping that he would have a chance alone with you later in the evening. Typically, other members of the group would jump at the chance to simply be in your presence, so he rarely got the opportunity. Tonight would be different, he reassured himself.

You decided that this late afternoon would be a prime opportunity for a wash. You had slept for about an hour to regain your strength, and Shadowheart had used her magic to mend you. Of course, Astarion had kept a close eye on you to make sure you were alright. So, when you wandered off, Astarion followed. “She needs supervision” he had told the rest of the group. Then, he sauntered off after you, careful not to make his presence known. He was a stealthy one, that’s for sure, and it came in quite handy in situations like these.

The nearby pond was mostly still water, despite the glorious waterfall that fell from the rocks that formed above it, clearly streaming from a larger body of water nearby. The rocks were all fairly dark and gray. The pond itself had strikingly blue-green water, that was still clear mostly. There were spots where algae had developed and broken off, but the water still cleaned better than the majority that you had witnessed in your travels. This place had become your own personal spa, in a sense.

He watched from afar as you began to strip your clothing off. He hadn’t been able to make a full assessment on you yet, as he had only seen slivers of your bare skin between the top and the bottoms of your pajamas, although he always hoped to see more. And now, he was going to. Finally.

You began at the top, peeling the shirt from your bodice, revealing your bra underneath. It was a translucent-white, which effectively made Astarion’s breath hitch in his chest. He could have taken red, black, blue, whatever other color you desired. But – white? Gods, it made his mind wander. And his cock harden. He couldn’t help the way that you made him feel. He had spent too many nights alone in his tent, at least for his liking. Next to be revealed were your legs, which looked beautiful despite various scrapes, bruises and cuts scattered about them. His only wish now was to have them wrapped around him – anywhere and everywhere. Around his head, around his pelvis, around his legs as he cuddled you softly to sleep in his tent. Ran his hands through your locks. Kept on high alert – just in case. He always did, but it would feel more important if he had something so precious to protect.

Astarion’s daydreaming almost tore him from the sight in front of him. Almost. The next time he looked, you began removing your bra. “Oh Gods…” Astarion spoke, thankfully quietly enough to maintain the secrecy of his presence. Your breasts were no longer under their cover, and Astarion could hardly contain himself any longer. He cupped the bulge in his pants gently, he needed the slightest bit of friction in that area. The next to be revealed was your glorious heat, not entirely cleanly shaven, but clearly well-maintained.

It was within the next few minutes that you decided to indulge in the water, laying a towel out on a nearby rock for after your dip. He noticed you head towards the waterfall, your hips swaying generously for his eyes, and he almost let his focus falter.  Astarion then made the decision to make his move, sliding his shoes off, then stripping himself of his pants, shirt, and underwear. He also made the conscious decision to sneak your own clothes away from the towel you had to delicately laid out, perfectly upon the rock. Just because he was mildly infatuated with you, didn’t mean he would play nice. In fact, it made him want to play even rougher.

You were fairly oblivious to the rogue in the shade, currently your only focus was relishing in the waterfall and running your hands through your hair, combing it out gently with your fingernails. It was the most relaxed you had felt in the past 24 hours. Little did you know, a certain rogue had set his sights on you – hoping to relax you even further.

The water was lukewarm from basking in the sun for the majority of the day. Exotic flora surrounded the pond, making it look inviting and tropical. However, some of the plants could be deadly, which kept both yourself and Astarion from getting close to them. Astarion glided himself into the water, careful to maintain quiet and stealthy as to not alert you to his presence – yet. He glanced at your bottom again, taking it all in. Soon, he hoped you’d be all his. If everything went as planned.

The water barely covered Astarion’s pelvis as he floated over to you. His fingertips played along the surface of the water, taking in the beautiful scenery. It wasn’t often that Astarion was able to do so. But now, he felt relaxed, yet almost – nervous? For what was to come ahead. It wasn’t often that Astarion felt unnerved in this way. You just meant so much to him. And he didn’t want to lose that. He began to contemplate his current choices and whether or not this would end poorly for you both. Perhaps you would be enraged, forcing him out of the party and never to speak to you again. Perhaps you would denounce his desires and state that you longed for someone else.

To his surprise, you yelped and jumped, trying to cover yourself as much as possible. You had seen him. You hid behind the waterfall, sinking further and further into the wall of stone. You covered your bosom with your arms, much to Astarion’s disappointment. Astarion’s confidence rose again, approaching your form behind the waterfall. “No need to hide away, darling. It’s just me, after all” he tutted. By the time he had crept fully into the other, more secluded side of the waterfall, you had sunk into the water, on your knees now, merely your head poking out of the water. Your eyes looked up at him almost submissively, which nearly made his knees buckle in excitement.

“What are you doing here, Ass? How long have you been here?”

“Long enough, my sweet. Just out admiring the view, washing up, you know.” As much as Astarion longed to tower over you, he needed to get down to your level. He sank down himself, until his eyes were meeting yours, just above the surface of the water. You were always quick to spit back at Astarion, but given the nature of the situation, you simply couldn’t. Any thoughts that you had about snipping at him were completely and entirely blocked out of your consciousness. Instead, you uncertainly inquired “how much did you see?”

“Oh Gods, dear. I’ve seen everything.” His response made you shutter, although the smirk placed upon his lips led you to believe that he was indeed happy about this fact. You wondered why. “Let me help wash you, petal?” You shifted for a moment, pondering the possibility. Astarion had already seen all of you, hadn’t he? You wondered for a moment whether or not to decline. Maybe he was just trying to be helpful, you thought. Your mind raced through a variety of complex and simple possibilities, trying to track each one. Astarion caught on to this, merely catching your attention with a “dove?” “I- uhm- oo-kay” you responded slowly beginning to rise out of the water, and Astarion followed. You kept your arms firmly planted around your breasts, careful not to reveal yourself too much.

Astarion stood behind you, washing your back with handfuls of the waterfall that he so gently placed on your neck, shoulder blades, and spine. “Darling, you do know I have seen those breathtaking breasts of yours, correct?” You nodded hesitantly in response, still in moderate shock from the present situation. You thought you absolutely detested Astarion, and he you. But, here he was, helping you wash blood and dirt off of your back, so – intimately. You had been intimate with people before, however, this felt slightly different. And it felt different to Astarion as well, unbeknownst to you. Good different. Slowly, you began to drop your arms from your breasts. Astarion watched intently as your nipples were freed once more, it was pertinent that they were chilled from their prominence. “You know,” he whispered into your ear from behind “if you are scared of anyone happening to see them – I could hold them on your behalf.” Astarion’s voice sounded as if it was winking at you. Truthfully, now that Astarion was aware of how shell shocked you were, he knew he needed to be gentle with you. At least at first.

“Uhm – well I – uhm well sure” you managed to stutter out. “Good girl” Astarion whispered into your ear once more, bringing his hands to play with your nipples. You let out a soft mewl at the sensation. “Ooh, you like that, don’t you love?” Astarion teased, tutting his tongue again. You nodded feverishly, although this did not seem to please him. “Use your words, beautiful.” “Yes, I do Astarion. I-It feels g-good.”

Astarion’s hand molded and palmed your breasts, and he went to speak. However, you had beaten him to it. “Pl-lease m-more” you begged. He took one of his hands, bringing it down to your heat. You were nervous, as you were fairly sure you were embarrassingly wet down there, and your body began to reflect that. “Darling, why are you shaking? Please, don’t give in for my sake, I want you to want this.” Astarion spoke with more care than he ever had with you. You turned to face him “Ass, you fool, of course I want this…” you had built up confidence to divert back to his nickname, which he was glad for. But then you remembered the reasoning for your timidness. You were dripping. “I- just- well- I- I am really wet.” Your cheeks reddened as you spoke, you felt yourself sinking back into timidness in front of him, but you had nowhere to hide “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for your desires, doll. I’m more than thrilled that I have been able to bring this out of you. That I have this effect on you. I was terrified of your rejection, darling girl.” Given Astarion’s newfound openness his emotions with you drove your desire for him to new heights. Your next move was to pull him into your lips, your hand wrapped around his neck as you did so. As your lips landed on his, you felt a rush of adrenaline surge through your body. Your confidence built once more, using your teeth to pull on Astarion’s bottom lip before finally releasing it. You winked, while Astarion stood in awe of your previous actions, finally stating “you cheeky little pup.” He took this opportunity to grab your waist, picking you up and lifting you out of the water. You yelped, surprised at his action. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. Astarion carried you over to where your towel lay, gently placing you down on it, then allowing himself to follow.

His leg hooked underneath you, and you willingly allowed it to push your legs apart so that he could hover between them. He leant down to place a gentle kiss upon your lips, which you welcomed. His lips were breathtakingly sweet and supple, you had felt them on your neck before, but that hardly amounted to the feeling you had now. Although his lips on your neck certainly did have the capacity to drive you mad. “Please Astarion, take me.” He wasn’t used to hearing the entirety of his name spoken from your lips. But it was a welcome thing to hear his full name fall from your lips. To know the full extent that you wanted him. Because he wanted you too. Desperately.

“Patience, my sweet.” He spoke, retreating from your form. You immediately tried to grab at him to pull him back, but then realized where he was headed. He tutted in response, speaking the word again “patience. Allow me to indulge in you.” Astarion’s lips peppered kisses along your upper thighs, before reaching his hands to assess the state of your heat. He used one hand to pull the folds of your labia apart, and the other to bring a finger to your clit. You were right, you were very, extremely wet. You whimper as his fingernail flicks across your clit. You tense, but his words bring you back down “relax, my dear.”

He spoke once more, this time with a proposition rather than a demand. “You can say no to this darling. But I would love to taste you, while I taste you.” “Huh?” For the first time, you were confused by Astarion’s words. “I would just place a little bite ‘here’ and ‘here’” he pressed into your inner thigh with two fingers, displaying where his fangs would penetrate your skin and release your sweet blood. “Then, I would drink from you while also sipping on your sweet nectar.” You nodded feverishly in response, eager for this stimulation that this would bring you. “Use your words, love.” Deviously, he placed his finger upon your clit, humming in contentment as he watched your body convulse in ecstasy in front of his eyes. “P-p-ple-ee-a-se.” You moaned out, barely able to make a single word out at this point. “I’m sorry, what was that dear? I couldn’t make that out.” “F-fuck y-you… t-te-ase.” “Oh, you will darling. You will. All in good time.”

“Bite me, Astarion. Plea-.” You finally gathered yourself together enough to state it, and you felt his fangs sink into you before you could even finish your sentence. You whimpered as he fed from your thigh, holding it down with one hand, the other arm resting on your opposite hip. Gods, you were delectable. You had brought your hands to tangle within his hair, gently massaging as he began. He suckled your skin, allowing him to intake more blood, but also causing your skin to latch closely to his tongue, where hundreds of blood vessels burst and petechiae formed, leaving a carmine-tinged love mark. A small “hmm” of pleasure left his lips as he pulled away, the circular marks that his teeth left were prominent, and bound to leave a mark. You felt woozy, similarly to the other times he had fed from you, but almost blissfully so this time. “Mmmm” the moan left your lips easily, flooding Astarion’s ears with pleasure. “You alright my love?” He peaked up at you, and you nodded. “Just a little lightheaded is all.”

“Alright, my sweet. If you need me to stop, just say the word.” You nodded as he brought his tongue to your clitoris, circling around it in a perfect spiral, suckling on it whilst savoring the taste of your sweetness. “Mmmm” you whimpered, which made Astarion’s instincts nearly feral in nature. He brought a hand to play inside of your heat, which was still rapturously wet for him. He started with one initially, and nearly moaned himself as he felt your walls clamp around just one finger. He began to imagine what it would be like to have your core wrapped around his throbbing member. Even though he had released it from his undergarments, he was still desperate from the friction only you could provide him with, the only thing that could give him relief. But right now wasn’t about him. It was very much about you, and him providing pleasure for you.

As if you could read his mind, you used his hair to pull him away from you. “Astarion, please, get inside me. Now.” You demanded. “Although you are in no position to make demands here, my sweet, I wholeheartedly agree with you.” “Yes, sir.” You agreed with him. In this particular position, Astarion was completely and utterly in control. And you think you liked it that way.

Astarion towered over you for a moment, analyzing every bit of your form. He let his eyes roam over your breasts, stomach, thighs, and then back to your slick core that ached for his entrance. And who was he to deny you such pleasure? He hovered over you once more, placing a quick yet compassionate kiss on your lips. His penis sat in between the folds of your labia, the member wettened from the contact. He grinded down ever so slightly, allowing pressure to be placed on your clitoris yet again. Then, with one swift movement, he slid back, and then within the muscular cavern of your vagina. “Fuck” you responded, you were ready for him, or so you thought. He was huge, and you weren’t sure the last time you had taken a lover. He held himself inside of you, his tip nestled against your cervix, waiting until he could proceed. “Gods darling, you’re so tight.” Astarion prompted. His pelvis pressed perfectly against yours, your thighs spread to make room for his shape.

Once your muscles had accommodated him, you looked up at him with dangerously innocent eyes and simply nodded. He took this as his sign to continue, sliding his length out of you slowly at first, and then pressing into you once again. “Mhhm” you moaned wantonly, writhing in delight. Astarion’s movements became more fluid, rocking his hips so that he moved in and out of you with ease.

You moaned over and over with his rhythm, and he pulled your legs over his shoulders, somehow enabling him to pound into you even deeper. Your core quenched around him, tightening around him even further. “Oh, sweetness. Can you take me inside of you?” He asked, and your response was a ferocious nod. “Please do” you whimpered. “Are you close, my love?” he asked, seemingly very concerned about you reaching climax together. “Mhmm love.” Astarion’s heart fluttered, knowing that you too, were close, and that the pet name he so loved throwing out could also be received.

After several more pumps inside of you, your muscles began to convulse, writhing around Astarion’s member, holding him more tightly than before. Your shaking released Astarion’s own pleasure, and he flooded your cavern with ropes of cum as you finished together. You moaned wantonly.

Astarion pulled out, allowing his fluids to begin dripping out of you. He placed a swift peck on your lips, then sliding next to you on the towel. “Gods, Astarion, that was phenomenal.”  You spoke as you were finally able to catch your breath. You turned to face him. He placed a hand on your cheek, using his thumb to rub gently. “Thank you darling. That was… amazing.” His crimson eyes stared into yours, analyzing every breath, every possible thought going through that beautiful mind of yours.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind, my sweet?” Astarion inquired softly. Even though the intimacy you two had shared was incredible, he was still scared of the feelings – or lack thereof – that you may harbor for him. “Gods, I just- I didn’t think that would ever happen.” Astarion looked at you with a puzzled face, so you clarified, responding “I thought you hated me, and to be honest, I thought I hated you too, from how much we bickered.” “Ohhh, darling” Astarion sounded exasperated. “That’s what I call ‘repressed sexual tension.’” You smacked your face into your hands out of embarrassment. “I suppose you’re probably right” you mumbled. Astarion pulled you back upwards, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re just fine, my love.”

Your stomach rumbled, indicating to you that it would be desiring to eat soon. Astarion pulled you towards him, wrapping an arm around your bodice so as to keep you warm. That, and he knew that your time, for now, would be coming to an end soon. “Someone’s famished from battle today?” He asked, and you nodded. “I am quite much so, yes.” He savored himself in one final kiss on your lips. “Well darling, as much as I would love to lay here forever with you, I know you need nourishment to recover from today.” He winked.

“Yeah, yeah. One last thing before we go?” Astarion nodded, ushering you for your question. “What exactly are we?” You inquired. Your feelings were so jumbled you didn’t know what to think regarding the whole situation and where you were to stand with Astarion now. Was this just a once-off? What did he want from this? “Well, I had hoped that me marking you as mine would assert where I stand on the subject. I want you, in every sense of the word, my dear.” As he finished speaking, you had a giddy grin placed upon your mouth. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You almost shrieked in excitement, but then decided to restrain yourself. You were adorable. Truly. “Will you come to my tent tonight, after everyone has fallen into slumber?” Astarion asked. “As much as I would love that, I’m really worn out from today, and I don’t know if I could-“ he cut you off “just for a cuddle, my love.” You nodded in response to this.

You began to rise, moving your hands around you, trying to find your clothing that was scattered by your towel. “Ass, where the hell are my clothes?” You turned to look at him, and he merely looked at you with a cheeky, blushed look on his face. “I can’t tell you it wasn’t me.” He winked. “Come on, please…” you begged. “They’re by mine, over by that rock over there.” He gestured to the rock that he had hidden behind. Astarion got up as well, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around your figures as you waltzed over to the rock and began to dress yourselves, Astarion taking extra time to admire you.

You walked back to camp, and Astarion shortly after. You didn’t want to make things so dreadfully obvious to your companions. The regular bickering commenced shortly after. But only you two knew what truly happened behind closed doors. Astarion finally had you, and that was like a dream to him. As he was unwinding for the night, and the stars had settled in the sky, he heard footsteps approaching his tent and your whisper, stating “Hey, love, I think everyone’s gone off to bed.” He eagerly approached the curtain, revealing your beauty behind it. “Come in, please, my darling.” Astarion was happier than he had been in 200 years, as long as he was with you.

#astarion vampire #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfiction #astarion x reader #tav x astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fandom #baldur's gate iii #astarion smut

[peachiebeann]

Part Two of “Lovesick” is out!!!

#all might #my hero academia #villain all might #all smite #mha oc x canon #all might x oc #all might x reader #all might fluff #mha toshinori #mha all might #mha oc #mha #yagi toshinori #yandere all might x reader #yandere

[huramuna]

lay all your love on me - oneshot.

modern aemond x wife reader 18+ minors DNI, you will be smited.

an early valentine's day piece.

word count: 2.2k

i don't do taglists any more unfortunately -- @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: smut with little plot (specifics under the cut), bdsm themes, allusions to infertility, established relationship, no use of y/n, no description of reader, aftercare

lay all your love on me - ABBA • gimmie! gimmie! gimmie! (a man after midnight) - ABBA

warnings: bondage, edging, ruined orgasms, orgasm control, deepthroating, face fucking, ball-gagged, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, bdsm dynamics, dom/sub, brat taming, use of sex toys, knifeplay

You shouldn’t have listened to Aegon’s advice. Aegon, the brainless older idiot brother of your husband, gave you advice to spice up your marriage and hopefully, to conceive a baby– as he apparently had a few children running around, and this somehow made him an expert.

And you took it. 

It started off innocently; more dirty-talk, heavier touches, bites that left small marks of ownership for both of you to admire. It began to move onto silken sashes loosely holding your wrists together, fingers gagging your mouth. 

Then, it shifted with the creation of your safeword. 

“Pomelo,” you said, a tad more confidently than you should’ve. 

“Pomelo? That’s what you’re choosing as a safe word?” Aemond chuckled, perking his brow. 

“Yep, so you won’t forget.”

The bindings became tighter then afterwards, but not uncomfortable, of course. Aemond was a gentle husband in most facets, and this extended to his bondage of you. He would have you reassure him that they weren’t too constricting, weren’t chafing and were comfortably snug.

 Once his work was done and you soothed his worry, it was like a switch flipped in his head. Gone was your gentle husband of two years, and out came something primal and feral. It's always been there, right under the surface— broiling and writhing to come free, his blood set aflame. 

You realize now what amazing control your husband has— over himself, over his environment and most importantly; over you. 

That is how you ended up in your current situation— a cocktail of taking Aegon’s advice and stoking the flame of Aemond’s inner depravities. Your current situation being tied to a chair in red, silken sashes, adorned like a present ready to be opened, legs spread slightly, arms tied back. A matching ball gag muffled your gentle whines as a red bullet vibrator was carefully nestled in your folds. 

This was your Valentine’s Day gift to Aemond; allowing him to tie you up and edge you for as long as he wished, watching you almost fall apart each time— before he snatched away your release. He even tied a lovely little bow across your breasts; a treat for him for later. 

Saliva dribbled down your chin as you watched him; he was still dressed from work that day, business casual with black slacks and a white button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair pinned in a neat bun at the nape of his neck. He had his phone in his hand, changing the frequency of the vibrations on the bullet expertly placed just grazing your clit, teasing you and circling you. You looked a mess already, drooling and whining against the gag, toes curling at every minute sensation— while Aemond looked groomed and tailored to perfection, just watching. Cheeky bastard. 

Your eyes roved his form as he pulled up a chair, finally, across from you. You swore you could see the distinct bulge of arousal tightening around his pelvic region, but he turned around before you could confirm it. Asshole. You wouldn’t be surprised, with the insane amount of control that he had over himself, if he was willing away a boner, just to tease you. 

While he was turned away, you rubbed your thighs together, eager to ease some of the ache you felt from being denied. 

“You know you aren’t supposed to do that,” he chastised, somehow knowing you were getting up to no good with his back turned. “You’re being bad, love.” 

You responded with a few indignant grumbles, more saliva slipping from your lips and sliding down your chest. 

“Back talking?” Aemond mused, finally turning around, chair in hand. He turned it so he was sitting with his chest against the back of it, arms propped on the wood as he held his phone in an almost lazy manner. “That won’t do. You know I hate when you’re bratty.” he hummed, adjusting the speed once more on his phone. His voice said one thing, but his eyes said another. He loved when you were bratty— it gave him a chance to tame you. 

This exchange had been going on for thirty minutes already and you felt tears in your eyes at your ruined orgasms. You were screaming silent pleas to him from a look alone, your lashes damp with welling tears. 

“Does my wife want to come? I thought you had more stamina,” Aemond tutted, his voice perfectly trained to feign disappointment.

 You wilted under his faux admonishments, shaking back and forth against the bindings, chasing the high that would never come. The legs of the chair squeaked slightly as you moved it. 

“Don’t,” Aemond said firmly, turning off the vibrations completely and putting his phone aside. His voice took a darker note now, not like the playful scolding before. “You’ll hurt yourself,” he got up, hand stilling the chair. “Do you want me to touch you?” 

Your chest heaved as you nodded profusely. Yesyesyes, pleaseplease! Your skin crawled delightfully as he reached between your legs and slowly, deliberately slowly, pulled the bullet from your folds. It was soaked and slick. He reached up then and untied the gag, as well, rasping a finger over your poor swollen lips. 

“My poor baby,” he cooed, before pulling back. He began to undo his belt and your mouth filled with saliva instantly— that had to be some sort of pavlovian response, how pathetic— your eyes were trained on his hands as they flexed, discarding his belt and shirt, then his pants without much ceremony. Your eyes hadn’t deceived you earlier, he was rock hard, to a point it almost looked painful. “You’ll get yours soon, I promise.” he said, running his palm down his length as he positioned himself— one leg up on the chair you were on, one hand behind your head. ‘Open’, he mouthed. 

Your swollen lips opened as he guided his cock into your mouth. The salty, musky taste and smell of him, so familiar and comforting that it caused your eyes to flutter, enveloped your senses. He slid his length across your tongue until he nestled nicely in, drawing you in at the hilt. Your nose brushed his mound of neatly groomed short and curlies. He was all consuming, so in control— all you could do was look up at him. 

“You don’t need to do the work, baby,” he murmured. “Just sit there and look pretty.” his now free hand caressed your face, thumb drawing circles over your cheek as he began to move. It was slow at first, to help you get used to it— you were very used to letting him fuck your face, but it was always nice to start slow. You felt his cock slide in and out, against your tongue, prodding at your throat. 

Usually, he would put music on, or have the T.V on as background noise— but that wasn’t the case tonight. It was silent, save for the sound of the rocking chair, his soft pants of pleasure, and the downright vulgar noise of you taking him in your throat. It was straight up pornographic and you hoped that soundproofing the room had actually worked. 

His fingers curled in your hair. “So… good for me,” he praised, voice tenuous as he edged himself now, wanting to make it last. “So good, letting your husband fuck your throat.” he clenched slightly, stopping his movements and clasping two fingers at the base of his cock— a close call, apparently. Times like these were where you could see the edges of Aemond’s control frayed, like threads of an old sweater. It delighted you greatly, and you wanted to see him let go completely and lose it. You hoped tonight would be that night.

You caught your breath as he showered you with compliments, wiping away your tears. “Such a good wife, my sweet girl,” Aemond said, absconding from you temporarily to fiddle with something in his discarded trousers. “Gonna open my present now, yeah?” he returned, clicking a small switchblade open— one he kept in his pocket for miscellaneous purposes. The two of you have indulged in knife play before, and it’s something that particularly excites him.

 The flat of the blade pressed to your skin, the cool sheen of it making your skin prickle. He dragged it up carefully, the edge away from your flesh until it met the sashes at your breasts. Aemond sliced through them like butter, followed by the ones on your arms and legs, effectively freeing you. You gave a gentle sigh of appreciation and approval— as he always required before the final act, just to make sure you were alright. 

Once receiving it, he swept you up from the chair, picking you up with ease. He wasted no time pressing his mouth to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. Your brain felt full of fuzz and bees, still numbed by how badly you wanted to come. Your clit was practically throbbing, warmth spreading through your core as he took you to the bed— not the bed you slept in, but one you both had bought especially for the play room. He laid you down so gently that you almost forgot where you were— until you looked in his eyes and saw the eclipsed pupil, his usually calm blue eyes (one less blue than the other from his childhood injury) was totally engulfed by blackness. He reminded you of a shark, besotted to the primal urges of their nature when they smelled blood. 

His cock sunk into you without any resistance, like slipping on a lubricated glove. The fit was still snug, but eased some of the ache you felt. 

“Aemond…” you sighed softly, body relaxing as he rested inside of you. It felt like laying in bed after a long day, your bones softening. “Need you to fuck me, husband,” you continued. “Please.” you added after, remembering your manners. 

He just stayed there, still, staring at you. He didn’t move.

“Please.”

No response.

“If I am not blissfully fucked out in about five minutes, I’m going to bite you.”

Nothing.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplea–,” 

Your whining was cut off as he set an unrelenting pace, right off the bat, hammering into you with reckless abandon, bullying your sweet spot like it owed him something. But he, in fact, owed you something. You reached behind and pulled his hair out of the bun, letting it fall between you like a curtain of snow. His blown out pupils, his hair a mess, his movements were erratic– he was losing control. 

His hand supplanted into the soft of your hip, clenching onto it for dear life as he drilled into you. You pinched his free wrist as a reminder– to which he dutifully remembered, his digits falling to the apex of your thighs and rasping over your clit in rhythmic ministrations. Your legs locked around him in an instant, pulling him in impossibly closer as you continued to beg, you were so close, so close–

“P-please– can I?” you asked through broken whimpers.

He couldn’t even respond through his exertions, evidently chasing his own high– he gave a growl in response, nodding. You didn’t just tip over the edge, you were fucking pushed, as your pleasure came to an all consuming, mind numbing climax. Your neurons fired off on all cylinders, electrifying through your body and coming to a conclusion: Holy fuck. You felt wetness squidge between your legs as you soaked Aemond, in turn, gripping him like a vice. 

The mask of power he had been wearing slipped and fell off completely, as he scooped you up from the bed (without slipping out even once) and gripped you by the ass, pistoning up into you with feverish, animalistic panting. His fingers left red indents on your soft bottom, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, a dragon tasting his meal. His knees almost buckled as he came, a long grunt indicating it– as well as the coupled feeling of him emptying his balls inside of you. He gripped the wooden bedpost, angling you in one arm as he caught his own breath. 

His hair was plaited to his forehead as the sheen of perspiration glazed his skin, all the strength had been sucked out of him temporarily, exiting through his cock and into you, apparently. Yet, even still, he placed you back on the bed, bottom towards the headboard. He propped up a pillow under you and angled your legs upward. You were still thoroughly fucked out, so you let him handle you like a ragdoll, you bones jelly. It was your routine to do this specifically– as you’d been trying for a baby for the past year or so. 

Aemond returned (when had he left?) with a bottle of water. “Drink, love,” he murmured softly, his disposition back to that of the gentle husband. “Here,” he fluffed another pillow, this time putting it under your head. “You alright?” he asked, uncapping the bottle of water and bringing it to your mouth. 

“Mhmm,” you hummed back, sipping the water. “Food?” you asked simply, a goofy grin coming to your face.

“Of course, of course– whatever you want.”

“Thai.”

“Consider it done.”

–

When you inevitably tested positive for pregnancy about two months later, you chalked it up to your Valentine’s Day surprise that did the job– Aemond agreed. Aegon was disgusted, but also took credit for the dubbed ‘miracle baby’. 

Aemond wacked him over the head each time he said it, to which Aegon would run away and shout. “I got your wife pregnant, I got your wife pregnant!”

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond smut #modern aemond smut #modern aemond #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #my writing #lay all your love on me

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Of All Things, I Became a Geovishap

You always imagined that if you woke up in the world of Genshin, the possibilities of being a Visionless wielder of elements and a slew of romantic shenanigans would lie in your wake. But when you instead find yourself in the body of a Geovishap with romance likely out of the question, your only conclusion is that the gods of reincarnation isekai hate your guts.

cw. you're a geovishap

pairing. zhongli x reader, xiao x reader, ganyu x reader, yun jin x reader (separate)

notes. don't feel like being a geovishap today? well go ahead and go to the series masterlist and see what your life could be if you were something else in genshin.

You know the saying 'all men are created equal'? Yeah, whoever made that clearly never woke up reincarnated as a geovishap.

You're not even a geovishap hatchling which is arguably cute enough that a kid could convince their parent to let them keep you as a pet. No, you're a fully grown geovishap and what typically happens when you get spotted? It's attempt to smite on sight. If it isn't someone screaming in fear, it's someone grabbing some sort of weapon to do you in themselves.

Yeah, not all creatures in Genshin are created equally. Hell if you were going to be some sort of Geo creature, why couldn't you be a Geo slime or something? Those are cute!

Either way, you definitely have your work cut out for you.

Zhongli

By far the best companion you could gain in your experience of being a geovishap... in Zhongli's present point and time. If this was him during his war god days? Well, you're pretty sure you would have been smited on sight unless you could convince the dude you were no threat to his becoming Archon

Thankfully as Zhongli is now, he's a lot more patient. Even better is the fact that he knows you're different than the other geovishaps, not to be the main character here

But Zhongli can tell there's something intrinsically wrong with you being a geovishap and considering the two of you can actually communicate with one another, without telling him his entire life is a series of codes and plot devices, you explain to him you're a human that's been turned into a geovishap and you'd really appreciate it if he could find a way to turn you back to normal

He has no immediate remedies for your troubles, but Zhongli promises that he'll let the adepti know not to let any harm come to you should they come across you

He also becomes great company, unexpectedly. Geovishaps aren't really ones to stay in groups outside of the breeding season (which you definitely want to avoid), so Zhongli reasons that this existence is one that is lonely for you

He visits you often and brings you foods you'd enjoy. Things the people eat, which you appreciate because you were getting tired of eating nothing but sunsettias everyday

Asks Cloud Retainer to craft some sort of communication device you can wear so you can communicate with any adeptus you come across. Or the Traveler so you don't just become resources during their adventure

He even teaches you more about the Geo element and how to best utilize those abilities as you are from creating stable structures to keep you safe from the elements when you sleep outside to giving yourself an extra boost to reach things as needed

You really appreciate Zhongli for treating you like the person you are despite the circumstances. Sometimes though he can't seem to help himself when he rests a hand atop of your rocky head gently when he reassures you that he'll find a away to turn you back to normal

You nudge against him when his eyes become clouded with nostalgia as he recalls friends long since passed and he'll learn against you with a small smile, thanking you for the comfort

He makes your rocky heart beat quite a bit but trying to hit on a guy, even a guy that's a pseudo rock dragon, isn't easy to build up the courage to do when you're made of rocks

Xiao

Yeah. No

You know what sort of timing the conqueror of demons is on and because of that you don't even want to attempt to run into this guy because you know he won't wait long enough for you to convince him you're 'not like the other vishaps'

Just because you aren't a threat now doesn't mean you won't become one later, at least that's what Xiao would likely think

So you do your best not to run into him because unless you somehow manage to turn human again, you don't foresee any interactions with Xiao turning out positively even less so if you run into a member of the Fatui

But should you come across Zhongli and he lets the yaksha know you're not a threat, you won't find yourself speared any time soon. If anything Xiao becomes something akin to a bodyguard to make sure you don't end up getting killed by someone or something. Especially after you get a communication device you wear around your neck

He's not the most talkative though. Usually if he saves you from some sort of ordeal, he handles it and leaves as quickly as he comes

It takes quite a bit of effort on your part to become close to him but if he does end up becoming attached to you, his kindness is still quite clumsy

you'll often wake up to piles of food in front of your den, courtesy of xiao, not that he'll tell you

and he usually checks on you from afar before going about his business contrast to how he normally only waited for you to roar his name if you ever needed him to come to your rescue before ignoring you again

if you ever got yourself into some danger trying to defend him, believing he needs help, he will scold you severely and no amount of trying to look cute (not that a fully grown geovishap can) will stop the onslaught of words

they're out of fear though, not anger. he doesn't want to lose something or someone precious to him and that includes you now

Ganyu

A sweet companion you couldn't be more thankful for

Qilin are peaceful only bearing arms during times of absolute unrest. Thankfully, you reincarnated into the right era because so you don't have anything to worry about as far as Ganyu hurting you

You got her attention when you found her indulging in a nap in the middle of the fields and got worried she may find herself getting attacked, so you decided to stand watch like a rocky guard dog

You even brought qixing flowers for her to nibble on when she woke up, holding them in your mouth to- okay, upon second thought you're sure she wouldn't something covered in geovishap drool in her mouth but maybe she would like the flowers anyway

it was certainly a start when she woke up and saw you beside her but thankfully the qixing flowers were definitely a nice touch in keeping you from getting your ass beat or ganyu taking off at the speed of sound

maybe the easiest companion to form a connection with after zhongli. she finds your gentle temperament sweet and comes to even think of you as her geovishap companion

one she can confess her secrets to knowing you won't tell anyone, nor will you judge her for her worries concerning her adeptus and human halves making her feel like an outsider in both worlds

the only downside is, due to how busy ganyu is, she doesn't get to see you often and you aren't about to lumber your way into liyue harbor and subject yourself to a fearful mob

would be undoubtedly excited if you gained a communication device of some sort, allowing you both to talk and have full conversations with one another that wasn't simply her rambling about her days but even if you didn't, she'd find your way of showing her you care about her lovely

you like ganyu truly........... you're just 99% sure that she thinks of you as something more like a pet than a romantic interest even if she isn't completely human

Yun Jin

If you made a list of characters you thought you could befriend as geovishap, yun jin wouldn't be on it

And yet apparently life had different plans when you encountered the opera singer during one of her nature stints to rehearse and come up with new operas to write

Yun Jin would describe it as something straight out of fiction. A lone girl singing in the forest only to come face to face with a geovishap... but rather than attacking or growing aggressive, the stone creature simply watched in enjoyment

Perhaps that is something worthy of a script!

Of course, that doesn't mean Yun Jin threw all caution out to the wind. In her eyes, you're still a wild animal with elemental abilities and she doesn't wish to subject herself to fucking around and finding out with you

But hoping that this could become a friendship where she at least could start bringing some sort of food with her, you make it habit to watch her rehearse when she finds herself in the same spot time and time again

A surprisingly effective method though because each time you show up to watch Yun Jin perform, the more she lets her guard down. Apparently even a geovishap enjoys partaking in the arts

She won't be apt to feed you after a few weeks though, she'll likely share a snack with you after a couple months only when she is absolutely sure you're not a threat

When she does, you rejoice you have something to nibble on that isn't just edible berries and fruits because you refuse to eat anything else a geovishap eats

Makes you some sort of head dress so it is always easy to tell that you're the geovishap that she often spends her time with. Something of nature, of course, you're not a pet in her eyes. Simply a kindred spirit of another species

#look she's writing #headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #ganyu x reader #yun jin x reader

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can you please do a plotonic Alien Reader x Damian Wayne?

Basically, the reader is from an alien race that is known to raise their hatchlings in groups/ colonies.

Reader just takes one look at Damian after joining the heros, and was like "yep, that's also my child now."

Reader just helping Damian with his sensory issues and being a somewhat emotionally available parental figure.

- 🦊

Platonic Damian Wayne and Alien male reader

Headcanons

Imagine the reader and Batman hissing at each other like angry alleyway cats because they both are adoption addicts, and have spotted an orphan at the same time.

You were from an alien species. You were reptilian in appearance, think Argonian from Skyrim, except you are taller and more built, have 6 eyes, 4 arms, and a long flexible tail.

What makes your species special is the fact that most have an elemental power of some sort. For most it isn’t very powerful, but for you it was strong enough that you were able to defend your home planet from invaders, singlehandedly.

Where most of your kind will only control one element, you are able to use all of them, and even able to do things like warp energy, magnetism, liquification, and more.

Your power is what has helped you defend not only your home planet, but earth, and the universe. But it has also hindered your ability to take part in your people’s tradition of raising children in colonies. You are so powerful your duty is to protect the universe, meaning you are far away from home most of the time, which leaves you feeling like you’re missing something most of the time.

Your species feels a deep urge to love and raise young, and things like adoption is very common as all kids are pretty much mutual ground, though children tend to have one or two people they prefer more than everyone else.

This also leads to a lot of outside adoption, as your people see children as most precious and think all children deserve a great future and good childhood.

When you met the justice league for the first time, it was because you were hunting down the current big bad who had wanted to destroy your home planet, and they fled to earth. The league didn’t even have time to take the guy down before you had smited him with lightning strong enough to make Zeus sweat.

It took a while for the league not to think you were a threat, but thanks to the green lanterns having worked with your people before, they were able to explain who you were and act as translators.

Your species doesn’t possess vocal cords the same way earthlings do, resulting you in having to use some of your powers to allow you to speak in a way they understand. There are new heroes on your home planet, so you are able to stay on earth.

Your people see it as a trading of information, like an exchange student program, as they are curious about the league and the league is curious about you, since you are rumored to be very powerful throughout the galaxy.

When you see all the young heroes for the first time you almost have a heart attack, because why would these adults allow the young ones to go out and put themselves in danger like that.

It took some explaining from Hal and other Lanterns to explain the cultural difference, and though you aren’t a fan you accept that its part of their culture, and that children aren’t coddled here like on your home planet.

On another note, you become quite popular with the younger heroes, since you always try to help out and treat them as equals.

The first time you meet Damian the parental part in your biology immediately starts chanting and making noise, pointing at Damian, and yelling “our child now”.

Of course, you can smell he’s batman’s offspring, but you notice that Batman doesn’t meet the standards for a guardian, and before anyone knows it you’ve scooped Damian up and declared him yours.

This of course doesn’t happen one day to the next, it takes a lot of bonding and getting to know each other. Damian has no idea what to do with the fact that you are so willing to be emotionally available to him, as he’s never truly had that.

 When you learn that Damian is autistic (my hc), you immediately start researching autism in humans and how it affects them and their daily lives. This becomes very useful in your everyday life too of course, but it’s mainly for Damian.

Damian liking animals so much probably helps too, since you look like a lizard for the most part. You liking to sunbathe for warmth results in Damian joining you even though he doesn’t need it, and that becomes your spot. That’s when he opens up to you about his issues after a while, and you grow closer.

You start carrying noise cancelling headphones around when you learn Damian gets sensory overload, and use your powers to block out noise or light if it becomes too much for him.

With Damian comes the rest of the bats, and you are more than ready to adopt all of them. You don’t even comprehend how this isn’t normal for earthlings, so when you start to refer to them as your pod or colony, you don’t notice the confused looks you get.

Cue confrontation with Bruce, though to everyone else it just looks like two feral cats puffing up at each other and hissing a bit. You end up having to get outside help to figure it out, and after that you two figure it out.

Some of your teammates and the batkids definitely make fun of you guys for being coparents. I can imagine Jason calling himself a child of divorced parents even though you and Bruce are nothing but friends.

But even though you’ve pretty much accepted all of them into your colony, Damian is still your baby. He’s just young and small and you want to protect him, even though he hates being babied. Damian will never say it out loud but he likes being someone’s number one no matter what.

#male reader #dc #damian wayne #batfam #justice league #robin #young justice #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne headcanon #dc imagine #dc headcanon #dc x male reader #dc x reader #alien male reader #alien reader #batfam imagine #batfam headcanon #batfam x male reader #batfam x reader #justice league imagine #justice league headcanon #justice league x male reader #justice league x reader #robin imagine #robin headcanon #robin x male reader #robin x reader #young justice x male reader