#god i love me a sonnet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brain-rot-central · 2 months

Text

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal

A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.

Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex

Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.

♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”

The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor.

A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.

A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.

It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.

Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul.

She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.

As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.

It is him.

And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.

“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.

Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins.

“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.

“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck.

A cold shudder shoots down her spine.

There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.

Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.

Love.

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”

His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.

That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.

The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end.

Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.

Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other.

Pop, pop, pop.

Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.

Finally comes Cazador's turn.

He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.

Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.

The Ascension… is complete.

The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak.

He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.

Her lover is no more.

She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.

And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.

Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”

Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”

“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.

Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.

Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”

The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried.

Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.

“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.

She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.

But that was long ago.

Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.

“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”

Tav’s pupils blow wide.

Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.

She will not rise to it.

“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”

With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”

Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.

“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”

Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.

“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.

Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.

“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…

His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.

In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.

Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.

“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.

Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”

His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.

Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.

“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.

“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”

“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”

Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.

Her mortality is a threat to his oath.

Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”

Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.

Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.

Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.

“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.

Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”

Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.

This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well.

“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”

His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.

“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”

“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.

With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.”

His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.

Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.

A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.

With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.

“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.

It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.

Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.

Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.

“You can move,” she tells him meekly.

He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix.

Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.

Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.

Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.

Just… having sex.

“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”

He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”

“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”

Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”

“I-”

Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.

“Astarion, I-”

Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”

Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”

Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”

Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”

A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.

Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.

Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.

Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”

The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.

She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.

Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.

Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.

Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with.

Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago.

Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.

She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.

Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”

He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.

Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.

Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.

Tavaria.

The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.

Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.

“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”

Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”

Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.

Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.

Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.

They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.

The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.

-------------------------------------------

Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.

Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed.

Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows.

Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.

No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion angst #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x female tav #my writing #bg3 fanfiction

767 notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 29 days

Text

Will knows who it is at the first light brush on his shoulders.

He tips his head back back, bumping his boyfriend’s hip, leaning into the hand on his trapezius, his scapula, the base of his neck.

“Hi,” he says, grinning.

“Hi,” Nico says, leaning down to press his smile onto Will’s forehead. His hair tickles his cheeks, and he smells like woodsmoke and citrus, and Will slides his hand across his jaw and tugs him closer.

“Errand done?”

“Yep.”

“Lord Hades pleased?”

“As much as he ever is.” Nico shifts, kissing the corner of his mouth, the curve of his chin, the shape of his jaw. “My ears are ringing from five days of quiet. Even the echoing sound of lost souls cannot compete with your constant blabbing; I hardly knew what to do with myself.”

“Oh, shut up. You love my chatterin’.” He smacks the side of Nico’s head, but it’s hard to play mad when he’s smiling, shameless, wide enough that his teeth nick Will’s cheekbones, that his snickers are muffled into his skin.

“If I wanted to be stuck with someone who yaps nonstop I would’ve stayed down with Cerebus. In fact he might shed less, and he doesn’t drool when he sleeps.”

“…I do not shed.”

Nico plants both hands next to Will’s head, heaving himself up, and scans his camp shirt. Within three seconds, he locates a strand of hair, pinches it off, and flicks it at Will’s face.

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, for the love of — get over here,” Will demands. Laughing, Nico goes where Will tugs him, curling up next to him on the bench. “You’re such a shit. Normal people are much kinder to the significant annoyances they leave behind for five days, you know.”

“Are they.”

Nico lifts his arm in offering and Will accepts with relish, tucking himself under it and making certain to drag his curls down Nico’s face in the process.

“Yep. In fact I was expecting hand-written letters by day two, honestly, telling me how much you missed me and how the distance was physically painful, et cetera, et cetera. Maybe a sonnet or two. Italian, preferably, Elizabethan are not my favourite.”

“You’re very picky.”

Will sniffs haughtily. “Well, I’m a catch. You have lots of competition, you know. I was fighting them off while you were away but now that you come back and insult me upon reunion, I shall reevaluate my options.”

He feels more than hears the quiet laughter Nico presses in his hair, thumb brushing his collar, dipping onto bare skin.

“Is that so.”

“Indeed. My suitors have even offered a dowry quite handsome. I’m worth twenty-seven goats, didn’t you know.”

“Oh, well then. I might as well return what I brought for you, since I’m not sure I can outshine two dozen goats.”

The cool thing about being a son of Apollo is that Will has range. His dad is the god of arts, generally, up to and especially the dramatic ones. Will knows how to school his face into the perfect mask, how to smile on command and cry as desired, how to deliver a line and bow with a flourish. Playing a part comes as naturally as breathing, as naturally as healing.

“A present?” he asks, checking his nails as if the mere thought bores him. “That’s interesting, I guess.”

Nico doesn’t even bother to indulge him.

“Here, you massive dweeb,” he snorts. He hands over a small paper box, hand-folded and thin. “I can practically feel you vibrating.”

There is only one thing in this world, quite possibly, that Will likes more than proving Nico wrong, and that is letting his boyfriend spoil him. In all honesty it’s a real challenge sometimes, because Nico is really very good at being everything Will has ever wanted even if he has wrong opinions on most movies. Truly Will’s life is a joke at which the gods must howl with laughter.

Eagerly taking the box, he holds it up to his face, carefully inspecting every corner. The paper is regular printer paper, slightly waterlogged (from the Big House printer, then, ‘cause Will was carrying a giant bag of saline in from storage when he was eleven years old and tripped on the shipment of office supplies that someone had left, for some reason, in the middle of the fucking hallway, and the bag had exploded on impact all over four boxes of printer paper holding one thousand pages each) and carefully bent into shape. He recognises Nico’s handiwork from the dozens of origami paper sculptures he’s been gifted over the past few months.

“Open it.”

“What is it?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “What did I just say.”

“No, I mean — it’s not my birthday or anything.”

“So?”

“So you’ve wrapped me up a present! I want to know why before I open it.”

“Just because,” Nico mumbles, pressing a kiss to his temples. “Not everything needs a reason, nosey.”

“If nothing had reason then we would still be premordial soup,” Will mutters, but pops open the lid anyway.

He gasps.

“Oh my gods, Nico, you —”

Nico’s smiling smugly, but Will barely notices. Inside the box is a black chain darker than shadow, so dark it doesn’t even glint in the heavy sun, and dozens of little charms, from polished obsidian to a ball of slowly flickering flame.

“You like?”

“It’s gorgeous!”

He makes a triumphant nose, pumping his fist, and says, “Fuck those suitors, I fucking win,” and the funniest part is that he’s damn serious. There’s a glint in his eye identical to when he wins a sword fight, to when Connor loses a bet to him, to when twenty-odd bets are stacked against him and he’s got a full house. Something dangerous and wild and superior and Will is not an enabler, okay, he is not, but he is only so strong and there is only so much he can do when pretty boys wrap their arms around him and smirk at him and bring him bracelets they made in the Underworld. He’d like to meet someone who wouldn’t fold, actually.

“There were no suitors, you loser,” he says, but he’s flushed, pleased smile stretched wide across his face, and Nico’s grinning that too-wide grin and tilting Will’s face closer with the edge of his thumb, like he barely had to try. And there’s always a little bit of shadow leeching off him when he comes back from a quest, an aura surrounding him like he’s squaring off to the sun, and of course the wild churning in Will’s stomach has nothing to do with that but what’s he to do, really? What is a warm-blooded person with eyes that can see to do when faced with such a look?

“Of course there aren’t. They know I would reap their actual souls.”

“Possessive, much.”

“You’re literally going red.”

“Shut up.”

And he does, but only because Will makes him.

Although judging by the hand he shoves in his hair, he doesn’t seem to mind.

437 notes · View notes

thatfandomslut · 2 months

Text

Take Me, I'm Yours

Regina George x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Trigger Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+. Fingering (Reader receiving), oral (Regina receiving), use of strap (Reader receiving), nipple play (Regina receiving) power bottom Regina George, passive top Reader, car sex, rough sex.

Request:

Pleasssseemore of Regina George/rene smut

Synopsis:

College!AU where the Reader is in Theatre and she plays Juliet in Romeo and Juliet. Also, Reader is an English major who very playfully and casually quotes dirty things in Shakespeare play and sonnets. Which Regina secretly loves.

Mean Girls requests are open.

Even though Regina was (Y/n)'s girlfriend, Cady and Janis found it surprising when she found herself a seat beside them to watch the school production of 'Romeo and Juliet.' (Y/n) was going to play the lead, Juliet, while her friend, Marco, was to be Romeo. If this was high school, Regina would have refused to show her face at a function such as this, but this was college. Plus, Regina was excited to see (Y/n) perform. She knew just how much (Y/n) loved the work of Shakespeare. She loved it to the point that she would bring it into any conversation they were having if possible.

As the theatre grew dark the curtains lifted revealing a narrator, speaking about fair Verona. Regina leaned close to Cady, who was sitting beside her. "When does Juliet come in?" She questioned softly, trying to keep her voice a whisper. She really wished she could fast-forward all of the parts that (Y/n) wasn't in. She began to wonder if that was rude of her, but she stayed in place, waiting for an answer. After all, she came for one reason, and one reason only, to see the star of this show: her girlfriend.

Cady glanced over at Janis before leaning towards Regina in order to respond. "She's going to enter with her nurse. It'll be a little while. Just sit back and enjoy." Cady told her, gaining a slight side-eye. Still, Regina listened, leaning back in her seat as she tried to understand what they were saying on stage. They were using the old English version. There were a few words and phrases she was catching onto due to (Y/n), and her infinity of saying little Shakespearean phrases whenever she was excited or whenever she wanted to have sex (which was a bit off-putting at first, but Regina found it cute).

"Nurse, where is my daughter? Call her forth to me." Regina sat up slightly, hoping that this would be the scene that was finally revealed (Y/n). She was able to identify the fact that the woman speaking was a Capulet due to her red dress. (Y/n) had explained one night that Capulets wore red while Montagues wore blue. This was so the audience could tell who was who on stage. Right now, Regina just felt incredibly intelligent for knowing this fact and it made her smirk to herself slightly as she awaited (Y/n) to eventually show up.

Just as Cady said, it was the nurse who appeared first, looking frantic. "Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old, I bade her come.—What, lamb! What, ladybird! God forbid. Where’s this girl? What, Juliet!" She called out, and Regina felt herself grow in excitement. Anytime she attended any of (Y/n)'s performances, she felt like she could barely sit in her seat when she had the feeling (Y/n) was about to appear on stage. She just loved seeing (Y/n) shine, and it was clear that the stage was where (Y/n) belonged. Regina would move to New York so (Y/n) could star on Broadway if (Y/n) asked.

Regina burst into a proud grin as (Y/n) entered the stage, her hair curled as she looked at her nurse. "How now, who calls?" It was her opening line, and now that play that was boring Regina had her hooked. One could argue that it was because (Y/n) was Regina's girlfriend that Regina had a newfound interest in the play, and Regina could not argue against that. She wouldn't dare to. Not when (Y/n) looked so beautiful on the stage. Cady and Janis looked over at Regina, who was now leaning forward, clearly interested. The action made Janis shake her head with a grin as she found Cady's hand and took hold of it.

After the play, Regina left briefly to retrieve the bouquet of roses she had bought from her car. As (Y/n) departed from the back, now wearing leggings and a sweatshirt with their college's name embroidered on the front, she ran into Regina's arms. "Hey, baby," Regina greeted as her arms wrapped around (Y/n). She was careful to not crush the flowers as she pulled away to kiss (Y/n). This action was quickly reciprocated. "You did so good up there. I got these roses for you." Regina said, passing the bouquet over to (Y/n) who lit up over the fact Regina brought her flowers.

"I'm glad you thought so. I was so nervous you wouldn't enjoy the performance. Normally, the school does more of the modern plays, but I suggested a classic. I wanted Hamlet, but this one is just as exciting. And! Thank you for the flowers." (Y/n) felt her cheeks turn red as she rambled on, Regina leading her to the car to drive them back to their apartment. "I'm sorry for rambling, I'm just really excited you enjoyed it."

Regina opened the door for her, kissing her cheek softly. "Don't apologize for rambling, my love. It's cute. And, how could I not enjoy it when you did so fucking fantastic tonight. You're born for the stage." Regina complimented as (Y/n) settled in her seat. She closed the door before heading to the driver's seat. Despite being the obvious bottom, little spoon between the two, she is not the passenger princess. She just enjoyed driving and having a sense of control over what she was doing. Even as a bottom, she commanded (Y/n) what she wanted and how she wanted everything done.

"Can I share something about another Shakespeare play, or are you all Shakespeared out?" She questioned curiously, looking over at Regina, who shook her head in a way to allow (Y/n) to continue. In response, (Y/n) straightened herself up as she cleared her throat. The action caused Regina to eye her suspiciously knowing some kind of dirty quote might come out of her sweet and almost innocent (if it wasn't for the Shakespeare filth quotes) girlfriend. "In Hamlet, when Ophelia says to him, 'You are keen, my lord, you are keen.' She meant that he was, well, horny. In response, he says, 'It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.' Regina, I am keen."

A giant smirk twisted the edge of Regina's lips on her usual 'serious driving' face. Looking over for a brief moment, she had to bite down on the ever-growing upturning of her lips. "After seeing you on stage, I am 'keen,' too." She responded, causing (Y/n) to look over with a grin. "Isn't this the part where you say your Hamlet quote to me?" Regina teased as parked in her parking spot, her teeth still tugging at her bottom lip, wishing that it was (Y/n)'s bottom lip they were tugging on instead.

(Y/n) leaned back into her spot, unbuckling so she could turn to Regina more comfortably. "You're right, how rude of me not to respond properly. Regina, 'it would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.'" She said softly before moving the roses to the backseat carefully. Once she faced Regina, and the blonde had unbuckled, Regina's hands were slipped into (Y/n)'s leggings while (Y/n)'s hands were pushed up into Regina's shirt. They've both been here before, ravaging each other in their car as if they couldn't get caught.

Regina was quick in her actions to rub (Y/n)'s clit, wishing the girl was riding her face so she couldn't only feel how wet she was for her, but there was a chance she could taste it, too. However, the moan that had escaped (Y/n)'s lips made her forget her wish as she began to allow two fingers to slip in between the lips of (Y/n)'s pussy, teasing her momentarily. "Please, princess," (Y/n) whined pitifully, and Regina slipped her fingers in at the request. Anything for her future favorite Broadway star, right? The glass slowly began to fog as (Y/n) moaned in pleasure as she successfully unclasped Regina's bra from under her shirt, making Regina's nipples more accessible to her fingers. As (Y/n) cried out in pleasure because of Regina's fingers, Regina herself began to moan as (Y/n)'s fingers pinched and played with her hardened nipples.

It wasn't long before (Y/n) felt herself grow closer to her orgasm. "Regina, please, I'm so close." (Y/n) whimpered as her lips found Regina's the car windows around them were officially fogged. Normally, Regina would make her beg for her orgasm. But tonight was (Y/n)'s night, so anything she wanted, she was going to get. (Y/n) moaned loudly as Regina allowed her to cum on her fingers, the girl arching her back, her legs shaking slightly. A string of curses fell from her lips, but Regina could only focus on how pretty the girl's lips were.

Regina helped (Y/n) ride out her high before removing her fingers and sucking them clean. "Let's go inside, baby. I'll get you all cleaned up and we can watch a movie." Regina said softly as (Y/n)'s breathing became more leveled. She fixed her bra by just removing it from under her shirt, not caring if anyone saw her carry it into her house. Leaning over, she pressed a soft kiss to (Y/n)'s forehead, grabbing the roses from the backseat.

"Or, when we get inside, I can undress you, and eat you out." (Y/n) said, her words unusually bold, her voice still scratchy from her moans. Her chest was still heaving despite her catching her breath, but presumably because she was nervous and starting to breathe quicker once more. She expected Regina to say no because they typically did it in Regina's way. Which (Y/n) usually loved. She still wanted Regina to have control, but for a moment, she wanted to be the bold one. "I need to taste you, princess."

Her words caused a shiver to spread down Regina's spine as she glanced back with a smirk. "Okay, baby, let's do it then. Take me to the bedroom, and eat me out until I can't take it anymore." Regina leaned in, pressing a hungry kiss to (Y/n)'s lips before they pulled away, practically rising to their apartment. Their clothes were scattered on the apartment floor, but the roses were put neatly on the counter. As Regina fell backward onto the bed, she looked up with a smirk. "Take me, I'm yours." She whispered as (Y/n) kissed her deeply. The kiss was messy and their teeth clashed together as their tongues fought for dominance before (Y/n) pulled away.

(Y/n) left wet, bruising kisses down Regina's body, just the way the blonde liked it as she reached Regina's pussy. It wasn't long before (Y/n)'s tongue swirled along Regina's clit as she began to suck. Regina's back arched instinctively as she moaned loudly. When (Y/n) moved to begin eating Regina out as if she was her last meal, her finger took her tongue's place on her clit. "Fuck, baby, just like that." Regina's hands cupped her breasts, needing to do something with her hands as (Y/n)'s tongue swirled in her. Regina felt her heartbeat thrumming in her chest as (Y/n) made her forget her own name for a moment.

As Regina found herself growing closer, her legs began to shake as her moans came out more frequently. Her back arched more as she subconsciously began to grind on (Y/n)'s tongue. She loved the feeling of (Y/n)'s tongue and she knew soon their tastes would mingle when they kissed. "I'm so close, baby," she cried out to (Y/n), her hips stuttering, as she tried to hold herself back, wanting (Y/n) to tell her when to cum. It was the only time Regina relented control. It was something they both liked, holding each other's orgasms captive as they completely took away their ability to think straight.

"Cum for me, princess," (Y/n) instructed. Regina did so, crying out (Y/n)'s name. They forget if they have neighbors or not, but they don't care either. Regina's hips bucked as (Y/n)'s nose briefly hit her sensitive clit as she cleaned up all of Regina. Regina rode out her high on (Y/n)'s tongue, her eyes rolling back as she swore she could see stars. As (Y/n) finished, she kissed Regina deeply. Quickly, Regina reciprocated, mingling the taste of each other and moaning at their perfect concoction.

(Y/n) went to pull away in order to run their usual aftercare bath and to get Regina water, but the blonde stopped her. "No, I'm not done with you. If it's okay with you, I bought something you've been wanting to try." Regina was still shaky but stable enough to retrieve the strap from her nightstand. (Y/n) looked at Regina in shock as she grinned slowly. "I want you to ride me," Regina said, her voice echoing in (Y/n)'s mind.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly before she licked her drying lips. "I want to ride you, too." With the consent given, Regina began putting the harness on before inviting (Y/n) to climb on. (Y/n) grew even more wet as she did so before sliding on. The contact made pushed the harness down into Regina's sensitive clit, causing her to force herself not to buck her hips. (Y/n) moaned loudly as Regina's strap filled her up. "Oh, fuck," she cursed loudly, biting her lip. "Tell me when I can start." Her voice was shaky as she tried to wait, finding it hard as pleasure filled her up.

"You can start, baby," Regina told her before watching in amazement as her girlfriend bounced on the strap, her boobs bouncing with her. She couldn't help but moan, too at the perfect contact it made with her. (Y/n) cried for Regina, feeling like she was on Cloud 9. She was almost ashamed to say that her orgasm was coming much too quickly for her liking. But she continued to ride.

"I'm close, Regina. I'm already so fucking close." (Y/n) felt her body shake and her back arch as she grew closer to the orgasm she desperately tried to hold back. Regina moaned at her words, trying to think straight for a response. Instead, she mustered up a 'not yet' causing (Y/n) to cry out. Regina was desperate to cum with her as the two grew close. Their moans mingled in the air as (Y/n) took all of the length in proudly. She was beginning to wonder if she could resist this orgasm as her eyes screwed closed and her head fell back. Sweat beaded on her forehead before she finally heard Regina say it.

"Cum, baby. I'm cumming with you," Regina told her as she released with (Y/n). Their lips fell together, causing them to swell. (Y/n) stayed for a long moment on the strap as she shook in pleasure, bouncing every now and again to ride out her high. The action caused them both to moan every time. As (Y/n) removed herself, her chest still heaved. Regina kissed her softly before cleaning the strap and putting it away. "You wait here, baby. I'm going to get our bath ready and get us water."

(Y/n) couldn't refuse, her legs wouldn't allow her to walk anyways. Instead, she lay there, attempting to catch her breath as the sound of running water hit her ears and Regina grabbed her a water bottle. "You were amazing," (Y/n) complimented softly, her words barely coming out, her thoughts still trying to become coherent. Regina smiled over at her as they began to drink their water. "I wasn't expecting the strap, but I will say I am very grateful for it. I also liked that it was the one we picked out together." She said, activating one of their aftercare routines: talking about their time. It was important to communicate their feelings about sex.

Regina smiled over at her with a twinkle in her eyes. "I wanted to get it for you since it was opening night and you had been working so hard. I'm so proud of you, my star. And, I liked it, too." Regina pressed a kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek. "Now, let's go get in that bath before it overflows," Regina said with a teasing smile. She helped (Y/n) to the bath where they soaked their bathtub wine in a bath full of bubbles. It was the perfect end to a perfect day for the both of them.

#regina george x reader #regina george #regina george smut #mean girls x reader #mean girls

494 notes · View notes

mysecretlittlelibrary · 7 months

Text

A Moment's Silence

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Oral (f receiving). unprotected sex, marking, praise, Loki got a dangerous mouth but this isn't too bad.

Genre: smut & fluff

Summary: Loki hates when you touch him, and you thought you knew exactly why. // A moment's silence when my baby puts her mouth on me ~ Moment's Silence (Common Tongue) by Hozier

***

The first thing Loki learned about you when you moved into the Avengers Tower was that you are touchy. Not in the 'you're too sensitive' way but in the you're very affectionate way. You're always greeting people with hugs and you cuddle whoever sits next to you during movie nights and whenever you're going somewhere with someone you're either holding their hand or linking arms with them. It's pretty different from the rest of the people living here. Except for Thor, no one here shares your affinity for touch but everyone loves you so they take it in stride. Welcoming your hugs and cuddles and hand holds to the point that most of them have become accustomed to it, expecting it more often than they want to admit.

Except Loki. Loki doesn't do touch and no amount of seeing you do it will make him more comfortable with it. You're no fool. You recognized early that although the others complained when you hugged them there was no real fight in their objections, with Loki it's different. He'd go as far as to disappear on you if you tried to hug him so you stopped. You don't hug Loki, or sit by him during movies, or try to grab his arm on the rare occasion that you're going somewhere with him. Honestly, for a while you didn't spend much time with Loki in general, you weren't sure how to. He was clearly a loner and you assumed you didn't have much in common. He didn't seem eager to bond with you either so you left him to his own devices.

Until recently. You've started spending a lot of your free time in the tower library and evidently, Loki is quite fond of the space too. So you kind of just share it. If you find yourself in there at the same time as him you say hello and pick a corner to do your reading. Sometimes you talk to him a bit and other times you just share each other's company. It's becoming a kind of lovely routine, at least in your eyes. You have no idea if Loki enjoys it as much as you actually but he can be pretty conversational on occasion, usually as long as you're not too close to him.

"Hello Loki." You say when he walks into the library. You've already been here a couple of hours, you honestly didn't think you'd see Loki today.

"Hello y/n. How are you today?" He asks.

"Pretty good. How are you?" You set your book face down in your lap as you watch him walk out of sight to one of the shelves.

"I'm alright! What are we reading today?" Loki's voice carries through the room to you.

"I've picked up a romance for now."

"Not legends and myths for once?" You can hear the teasing in his voice at his question.

"Fuck off I read other stuff." You laugh.

"News to me."

"And what will you be reading today god of mischief? Sifting through spells as always?"

"I was thinking poetry actually." Loki finally appears from beyond the stacks with a book in hand.

"You're a poetry fan?"

"Don't sound so surprised." He rolls his eyes as he sits in the armchair across from the couch you're lying on.

"Well, it's not like you use that silver tongue of yours to recite sonnets." You snort picking up your book.

"Some would say this silver tongue of mine has quite a way with words."

"And I'm sure it does but weaving together lies isn't the same as poeticism. No one will be mixing you up with Robert Frost or William Shakespeare." You muse, your attention drifting back to the story you were invested in before he arrived.

"Your midgardian bards are of no competition to a god you know."

"I'm sure Asgard has its own famous poets of which I'm sure no one would compare you to either." You mutter as you read.

"Now that's harsh." Loki says. You mumble an affirmative dismissively as the drama picks up in the chapter you're reading. Loki takes the hint and leaves you alone as he opens his own chosen read for the afternoon and you spend the rest of the day in silence. Until dinner.

"I'm making dinner and it's movie night. Are you joining us or will you stay here?" You ask, standing up.

"Do you want me to join?" Loki asks.

"I mean- not if you're going to be miserable. I'm just headcounting."

"The others aren't usually as welcoming as you can be."

"Well I w-" You stop yourself. You've only just started to form a friendship with Loki, as much as you enjoy spending time with him you can't outwardly say it. Well maybe you could but you have a feeling the skittish animal approach is best. "I wouldn't be... disappointed if you decided to join us."

"I'll think about it." He hums.

"Alright. See you, maybe." You leave with your book intent on finishing it after movie night. You drop it in your room before going to the kitchen to make dinner. Meatballs, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. It takes almost an hour to make enough for everyone and by the time you're done, most everyone's gathered in the living room.

"Dinner's up! Stevie, Bucky come grab the potatoes and broccoli please." You say grabbing the bowl with the meatballs.

"Coming!" Steve says as he and Bucky hop up from their seats and carry the other serving plates to the big table in the living room where the others are waiting.

"And Sam can you get plates for everyone hon." You say.

"Oh sure." Sam says.

"Get the soda from the fridge too! And the solo cups!" Tony calls after him as he heads into the kitchen.

"Man you coulda just got up and helped out like the rest of us." Sam rolls his eyes but he gets the soda and cups anyway in addition to the plates you asked for. You catch movement in the corner of your eye while everyone is serving themselves and your gaze pops up in time to see Loki strolling into the main room.

"Loki!" You smile before you can stop yourself.

"Brother! Will you be joining us for our moving picture night?" Thor asks.

"Yeah sure." Loki says.

"Brilliant!" Thor nods getting up to clap a hand on Loki's back.

"I made meatballs and broccoli and mashed potatoes if you'd like some. We were just getting settled before we start the movie." You tell him. To your surprise, Loki takes the empty seat beside you and you can only hope your shock doesn't show on your face.

"I haven't missed anything then?" Loki asks.

"Not really." You shake your head. Loki nods and serves himself food.

"Whose pick is it tonight?" You ask once everyone has food in front of them and a few of the boys have already started eating.

"The kid." Tony says, shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Yeah! I uh decided on Now You See Me." Peter says.

"Nice." Natasha nods.

"What is that?" Loki asks you.

"It's a heist movie." You tell him. "Peter, have you seen it before?" You ask.

"Uh-"

"It's not like the baby spider's gonna be attempting anything like this." Clint scoffs.

"That's not why I asked. I'm just wondering if he picked it because he wants to watch it for the first time or because it's a favorite." You roll your eyes.

"I've seen it once. I just thought it would be a fun watch." Peter says.

"Well let's start it then. Yes?" Wanda prompts. Peter sets up the movie and soon everyone's attention is on the screen as they eat. It's about halfway through the movie that your usual habits kick in and you lean over to place your head on the shoulder beside you- until you remember it's Loki by your side and Loki doesn't like being touched. You lull your head back and around to tilt the other way. Wanda's on your other side but she's cuddled up with Vision so you'll just chill with your head against the back of the couch. No biggie. One movie bleeds to the next though and apparently at some point you start drifting off. Not for long, maybe 5 minutes but when your eyes flutter open again your head has made its way to Loki's damn shoulder. You pull off when you realize, surprised he didn't shove you away whenever you landed there.

Loki had held his breath when he felt your head on his shoulder. He was reluctant to admit the weight felt- oddly comforting. If anyone asked he'd deny it to high heaven but he was pretty content with you leaning against him and when you'd woken up and abruptly moved he almost wanted to protest. Almost.

When the second movie ends, most of the others start cleaning up the living room. Since you made dinner, this part isn't your responsibility so you get up and excuse yourself from the group.

"Goodnight everybody." You say to the room. "And Loki, thank you for coming." You add just for him to hear. Before you can think better of it your hand runs gently through his hair when you speak to him but by the time he's reacting to it you're already disappearing down the hall to your room. Loki spends the rest of the night thinking about your hand in his hair, your head on his shoulder, the way you so casually thanked him at the end as you left- it was something so unfamiliar that he didn't know how to deal with it. And how insufferable to be up all night over this.

The next day when you enter the library after breakfast Loki is already there sitting on the couch in your usual shared space. You're almost done with the novel you picked up yesterday and your plan is to finish it now.

"Hello Loki." You say to him as you take a seat on the opposite couch.

"Hello y/n." He says. You don't notice the way he looks at you over the top of his book for a moment. He's not sure if he should talk to you about the night before or not. How would he even bring it up? The two of you maintain your usual quiet company for a few hours while you finish your book. When you've read the last page you return the book to the shelf you found it on. While walking back to your couch you almost crash into Loki who at some point stood up when you were looking for a new book.

"Oh shit- my bad Lo." You say.

"You dropped your bookmark." Loki says holding up the flat dragon-shaped metal. You gasp and pat your back pocket where you thought you'd put it.

"Fuck- thanks. It was a gift so- would totally suck to lose it." You say, throwing your arms around him. Loki doesn't feel the urge to magically escape your grasp and he almost stops you when you let him go. Almost. "Sorry- impulse." You mutter grabbing your bookmark from his hand.

"You're usually much better at not touching me." He points out.

"I guess we've been spending so much time together that I kind of forg- sorry man. Won't happen again." You mutter.

"I wasn't- I know that's what you're like. It wasn't a complaint. Just an observation."

"You can say it wasn't a complaint but I know what you're like too. You hate being touched." You scoff.

"That's not totally accurate."

"What?"

"Usually you're right- I do hate being touched but with you I don- it's not that I hate it but I still can't stand it just- in a different way than I'm used to." Loki says carefully.

"What does that mean?" You chuckle.

"I'm- not entirely sure." He frowns.

"Well, what if I- do you mind if I touch you now?" You ask carefully.

"That's- fine." Loki says, hesitation clear on his face. You lift your hand to his cheek gently and his eyes close when your skin touches his. You let your thumb graze him softly as his brow furrows. Loki's hand snaps up around your wrist moments later and he moves your hand just enough to break the contact. "I can't-"

"What is it?"

"Too much- it's too much. I feel- entirely too much when you touch me, I can't-"

"Can't what?" You tilt your head curiously.

"I don't know how to handle it. I want- I want more than I can have."

"Say more, please."

"When you... do that. When you touch me it- I don't know how to explain it I just want more from you. Like- like I could devour you whole and it would still not be enough and I- I can't, we can't- so you can't touch me."

"Why can't we?"

"What?" Loki's eyes widen at your calm question.

"You're saying we can't but- why? Is it- is it that this is a desire you have but wish you didn't or-"

"No. That's not it."

"Then- why... can't... we?"

"Please don't say things like that. Not if you don't mean them. I cannot take it."

"I wouldn't say it lightly. I don't understand why you're so adamant that I wouldn't want- that you couldn't have more from me if you asked."

"If I asked?"

"Yes. Tell me what it is you want from me Loki."

"Why would you make such an offer?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Nobody wants-" Loki pauses, his gaze dropping as if the floor is more interesting to look at than you. "I just wonder how this is advantageous to you in any way."

"Do you think yourself that undeserving?" You frown and his eyes snap up to yours.

"I never said-"

"You don't always have to. Sometimes it's what we don't say that ends up being the loudest." You say. "I'm going to touch you again Loki. This time when it gets too much just- give into that feeling."

"You have no idea what you're signing up for." Loki's eyes are wide.

"I trust you." You whisper and his features melt into a soft grin, as if your words settled something within him. You place your hand on his cheek again, watching his eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. The moment stretches for a while until Loki's hands settle on your waist and pull you against him to bring his lips to yours.

The kiss is soft, hesitant, at first- as if he's expecting you to withdraw, but when you drape your arms loosely over his shoulders and deepen the kiss all manner of shyness seems to leave him. The kiss becomes harsher, more desperate, as if he's trying to devour you and give you all he is at once. You match him moment for moment, tongues dancing, hands roaming as you pour everything into that kiss. Loki lifts you and you wrap your legs around him. You pepper his face with sweet kisses as he carries you to one of the couches.

"Are you sure you want to give yourself to me?" Loki asks quietly.

"Are you sure you want to give yourself to me?" You turn the question back to him and he drops to his knees in front of you.

"I have given myself to you a thousand times over, long before now. I belong to you without question." His eyes pierce yours with their intensity as you allow his words to sink in. You almost can't believe he's said it but there's no denying the truth in his voice when he stares at you so earnestly. You clutch his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with equal candor.

"Then you may have me Loki. I am happy to give myself to you." You tell him and he lets out a deep breath. He says something to himself before tugging at the waist of your shorts. You help him take them off of you along with your panties before he speaks again.

"I have wondered for too long how you would taste on my tongue." Loki mutters as he spreads your legs. Before you can fully process the sentence to come up with a response, Loki buries his face at the apex of your thighs. He licks a stripe along your entrance, collecting the evidence of your arousal, letting out a groan as the essence of you floods his tastebuds. You gasp, threading your fingers into his dark hair as his tongue plunges into you, caressing your inner walls, lapping at your juices.

"Oh- oh god." You breathe out, your back arching towards Loki's eager mouth. He groans against you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure as you squirm against his face. Loki brings his hands up to your thighs, holding you still and open for him as he switches focus, dragging his tongue against your clit in the most delicious way. His movements are sharp, calculated, his eyes on you as he watches what pulls the strongest reactions from you and focuses on those things until your body tenses beneath his hands. Loki pushes two fingers between your walls and curls them as his mouth latches onto your button. The combination is deadly and you can't stop the cry you let out as your orgasm hits you full force. Loki gently works you through it with his fingers and tongue and only when your breathing goes from harsh pants to shuttering draws does he sit back. He makes a point to link his fingers clean when your eyes flutter open.

"Even better than I expected." He says.

"What?" You ask with a breathless chuckle.

"How you taste, the sight of you in pure pleasure, the feel of your skin against mine- all of it, even better than I imagined." Loki punctuates each item on his list with a trail of kisses until he's hovering over you.

"Yes well, how nice to learn that silver tongue of yours is good for more than smart remarks." You smirk and pull him down into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips and not caring, you simply want to be connected like this forever. Your hands trail down Loki's abdomen, freeing him from his own pants which he shoves the rest of the way off when you can no longer push them yourself. His kisses drop to your neck as he does so.

"You'll have plenty of time to learn all that my silver tongue is good for." He mutters against your skin. You giggle at his words a bit though it's shortlived as Loki chooses that moment to rock his hips into yours and the stretch of his length turns your giggle to a gasp. He takes his time working himself between your walls, allowing you to feel every single inch of him as he pushes deeper and deeper until he eventually bottoms out with a groan. "Stars above you're so- warm." He pants out. He's not moving, you realize, waiting for you to adjust so you tilt your hips forward, grinding against him impatiently.

"Loki please- move." You mewl and that's all it takes. Loki's hips knock back and he drives into you with full force, setting an even pace of deep thrusts meant for you to feel every drag of his dick against your walls.

"This- I'm sure, is Valahala." Loki pants out as he's fucking into you.

"So good- Loki it feels so good." You slip your hands into his shirt, dragging your nails across his back.

"I know my darling. I know." Loki hisses at the sweet sting from your claws. His rhythm doesn't falter as you cling to him, in fact, the feel of your hands against his skin sets Loki alight. You moan breathily, relishing in the way Loki fucks into you almost wildly. The heat of your walls is dizzying and Loki can already feel his release creeping down his spine. He slips a hand between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves. Your back arches as a whimper falls from your lips, the extra stimulation quickly bringing you closer.

"Loki-" You whine.

"Let go for me love. Show me how good I make you feel. Let your release coat my dick." Loki coaxes as his fingers dance along your clit as if he's already worked out all your right buttons to push.

"Oh my g-" You gasp out as your orgasm hits you like a wave crashing.

"Beautiful." Loki breathes. "I could watch you do that a thousand times and never tire of the face you make in ecstasy."

"Your turn now sweetie, show me what face you make in ecstasy Loki." You say gently, one hand threading into his hair. With your encouragement, it doesn't take much more for Loki's hips to stutter as his orgasm means the flooding of your walls in liquid heat.

You both lie still for some time, Loki only half holding himself up to avoid crushing you on the couch. You really can't believe the grumpy god that would straight up disappear if you so much as tapped his shoulder is currently lying in your arms. He can hardly believe it himself, but it's as soothing as he could have hoped. Not that he'd- ever admit that.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki smut

813 notes · View notes