#never-ending survey | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

craig960114 · 1 month

Text

story by me (craig)

I are literature

In the quiet town of Doodleville, there lived a peculiar doodle named Craig. Craig was no ordinary sketch; he was a cat with a mission. Despite his simple appearance, Craig harbored ambitions far grander than his humble origins suggested.

From a young age, Craig possessed an insatiable curiosity and a keen intellect. While his peers contented themselves with idle doodling, Craig spent his days studying the world around him, absorbing knowledge like a sponge. He learned about history, politics, and the intricacies of human behavior, all from the confines of his paper realm.

As Craig grew older, his ambitions expanded. He yearned for something more than the confines of Doodleville. He dreamed of venturing beyond the borders of his sketchbook and making his mark on the wider world.

One fateful day, Craig's opportunity arrived in the form of a stray pencil left unattended on the edge of his page. With a mixture of determination and excitement, Craig seized the pencil and began to draw. He sketched a doorway leading out of Doodleville, and with a final flourish, he stepped through into the unknown.

The world outside was vast and full of wonders, but it was also fraught with danger. Undeterred, Craig embarked on a quest to carve out his own destiny. Along the way, he encountered a colorful cast of characters, from mischievous doodles to formidable adversaries.

Despite the challenges he faced, Craig never lost sight of his ultimate goal: to leave his mark on the world and reshape it according to his vision. With each obstacle overcome and each victory achieved, Craig grew stronger and more determined than ever before.

In the end, Craig's journey was not just about conquering the world, but about discovering his true self and realizing his full potential. As he stood atop the highest peak, surveying the realm he had conquered, Craig knew that his adventures were only just beginning. For Craig was not just a doodle; he was a legend in the making, destined for greatness beyond the confines of his paper kingdom.

#In the quiet town of Doodleville #there lived a peculiar doodle named Craig. Craig was no ordinary sketch; he was a cat with a mission. Despite his simple appearance #Craig harbored ambitions far grander than his humble origins suggested.#From a young age #Craig possessed an insatiable curiosity and a keen intellect. While his peers contented themselves with idle doodling #Craig spent his days studying the world around him #absorbing knowledge like a sponge. He learned about history #politics #and the intricacies of human behavior #all from the confines of his paper realm.#As Craig grew older #his ambitions expanded. He yearned for something more than the confines of Doodleville. He dreamed of venturing beyond the borders of his s #One fateful day #Craig's opportunity arrived in the form of a stray pencil left unattended on the edge of his page. With a mixture of determination and exci #Craig seized the pencil and began to draw. He sketched a doorway leading out of Doodleville #and with a final flourish #he stepped through into the unknown.#The world outside was vast and full of wonders #but it was also fraught with danger. Undeterred #Craig embarked on a quest to carve out his own destiny. Along the way #he encountered a colorful cast of characters #from mischievous doodles to formidable adversaries.#Despite the challenges he faced #Craig never lost sight of his ultimate goal: to leave his mark on the world and reshape it according to his vision. With each obstacle over #Craig grew stronger and more determined than ever before.#In the end #Craig's journey was not just about conquering the world #but about discovering his true self and realizing his full potential. As he stood atop the highest peak #surveying the realm he had conquered #Craig knew that his adventures were only just beginning. For Craig was not just a doodle; he was a legend in the making

2 notes · View notes

collecting--stardust · 2 months

Text

Can't fucking believe that I just spend hours researching about palliative care and lung cancer for a fic when I don't even do it when I'm learning about it last semester 💀

#finally i decide to put my degree in use #but its about oncology of all thing like im not interested about it at all 💀#if only i am this dedicated to my studies i would have had perfect GPA for all my semesters lol #like i dont even spend this long when i do my part of case study 💀#this is all because of the survey i need to fill for my senior who is doing their research about knowledge level of paliative care #was doing it and suddenly thought of a cool idea BUT my ass let it marinate so now i don't remember most of it #i also didnt write down the song i was listening to when i got that idea so im fucked #so now its most likley going to be one of my wip that will never see the light of the day (completed until the end)#anyway now i got a headache thanks to reading about the medicine and i was reminded on how i hate pharmacology bruh #personal.txt

3 notes · View notes

amtrak12 · 1 year

Text

Oh my god my spouse just smacked me with so much psychic damage I had tears streaming down my face and my chest still hurts from angry laughing.

Me: Oh! If Dreamlight Valley did do a Disney Channel Originals themed Star Path with Kim Possible*, that means we would get Rufus as an animal companion! :D

My Spouse: Rufus is a dog, right?

Me: *35 points of psychic damage* *dying but not yet dead*

My Spouse with his second attack: No, weasel!

Me from my grave: A NAKED MOLE RAT YOU ASSHOLE!!!

#LMFAO #I couldn't believe it #'I've never watched the show!'#THEN DON'T FUCKING GUESS JUST ASK ME INSTEAD!#*I just took a Dreamlight Valley survey about the Star Path and premium shop and they asked about upcoming themes #and one them was Disney Channel Originals with the examples of Kim Possible and Lizzie McGuire listed #and yes. Correct. Obviously the developers understand their primary audience is in their 30s #Like the twitch streamers might be in their 20s still but the majority of the people buying early access must fall into the 30-40 range #if they're going to pull classic 2000s Disney Channel Originals like Kim Possible and Lizzie McGuire as their go to examples #(two of my favorite childhood shows btw)#(I will DIE if that ends up a Star Path theme)#(RUFUS MY BELOVED! You'd be my animal companion forever and ever and ever!)

8 notes · View notes

nemesis-is-my-middle-name · 1 year

Text

to return to another thing nobody understands or remembers. i actually think what might be fun is if in the rf4 au, the protagonist counterpart becomes arthur. which is actually a way better explanation for why the protag would get mistaken for royalty initially, bc they look like. basically identical and akari/rei even sound kind of close together and they could believably be half-remembered versions of each other.

and also the part of the game where arthur makes the protag fake royalty is actually the both of them playing hot potato with the prince/princess title bc NEITHER of them want to be Responsible. irida/adaman/whoever it is having the convo is like ohh this dastardly cheat... deceived us into thinking they were royalty... so we gave them your title and responsibilities... and the counterpart is like ! actually. i lied. I'M fake royalty. they're the real one.

#the nemesis speaks #pla rf4 #im also rotating the survey corps' role in all this... i think what would be fun is if they were still a research outfit #and studying monsters. and they're actually the ones who point you towards new bosses. in the name of Research.#and then you keep turning them into people! what gives!#but then why do you end up working with them? ...is THAT what the prince/ss was coming to the town to do in this au?#that might be fun. and then both protags are working with them still. 3 person unit (ingo is also there)#''but why do the earthmate and the prince/ss look so similar'' nah that part is actually never explained. dw abt it

5 notes · View notes

thedragonagelesbian · 1 year

Text

Wow im so glad the cr fandom is so normal and not interpreting a very generous and kind cast member getting in on a bit about wizards as (looks at notes) a celebrity unduly influencing a fandom poll

#its a joke its a joke its a joke its a joke #'oh but the BIASED POLL RESULTS' its a tumblr survey it will never be a representative sample of anything #you're just butthurt that a black woman (again JOKINGLY) campaigned on behalf of her own character #against two of your favorite whiteboy wizards (one of whom WON IN THE END ANYWAY)

3 notes · View notes

anthroxlove · 7 months

Text

JMO: General Hospital

FAVE

male character: Michael (sometimes Finn & Cody)

female character: Carly, Josslyn, Sam, Esme, Ava, Lois

romantic ship: CarSon (Carly/Sonny), Fiz (Finn/Elizabeth), Royals (Spencer/Esme), Jex (Josslyn/Dex), Hustlers (Sam/Cody), Valentina (Valentin/Nina)

family ship: Carly/Josslyn, Esme/Laura, Michael/Josslyn

friendship: Carly/Sam (but honestly, Carly/everyone)

storyline: Metro Court Hostage Crisis

LEAST FAVE

male character: Sonny, Ned, Nikolas, Curtis, Mason

female character: Anna, Jordan

ship: Vanna (Anna/Valentin), SoNa (Sonny/Nina), Sprina (Spencer/Trina), Crew (Carly/Drew), Nevia (Ned/Olivia)

storyline: Sonny abandoning his family and choosing the woman who kept him from his family over them

#jmo #tv survey #survey #general hospital #gh #only listing relatively current charas or ships #if i did all-time it would never end

1 note · View note

floral-hex · 8 months

Text

Constantly regretting not joining a local Cyberpunk Red game when I had the chance.

#I’m bored! I’m boring!#I need to get out of the house more #so anyway months ago someone advertised online that they were going to start a game in town #which would be awesome. cool. I even applied (filled out a cute little survey)#buuuuut I never responded when they tried to get back to me #I still have so much anxiety about my hearing loss #I’m afraid to join a group of strangers and just feel awkward and humiliated the whole time if I can’t hear them #big scaredy cat #of course my therapist would say (and has said many many times) not to reject myself before someone else has a chance to #or whatever. you get what I’m saying?#I should have at least tried to talk about it with the person #TO BE FAIR! tbf tho I was going through a big move and my mother’s health issues so it probably would have been so shitty keeping up #BUT who knows. maybe it could have worked out. we’ll never know bc I didn’t try #so I guess the moral is… I dunno. shit MIGHT be shitty in the end but it could also be great… so… do it… I guess…🤷🏻‍♂️#that sounds so fun tho. joining a ttrpg group #I used to play homebrews with my friends in high school and it was so fun #just hanging out in the garage. lots of snacks. playing d&d. good times.#I tried to play d&d (dnd?) with my brothers before but they were pretty young back then #anyway… yeah… might look into finding a group to play with #I don’t have a laptop that can really use for online play but who knows. there are a few game stores in the area. gotta be people out there #don’t let your dreams be dreams #anybody play ttrpgs in central arkansas?#that’s not a weird creep I mean #is that mean? I mean I’m weird and maybe kind of creepy. who am I to judge.#I just don’t want to play with a group of assholes or whatever #okay okay sorry I will play with you creeps and weirdos. I’m sorry.#ok I love you goodbye forever #you can ignore this #text

0 notes

whoistartaglia · 4 days

Text

trust falls with genshin mem

neuvillette would catch you and it would be something out of a romance novel. one hand supporting your back, the other your legs. the perfect bridal-style hold. when he realized you’re just playing a prank on him, he’ll gently and gracefully return you to your feet, and sneak a chaste kiss on your cheek as he does so.

wriothesley would try to be a bridal-style hold but start it too late. this leads to him to awkwardly clutch your legs and arm. he might try to adjust his hold and make it slightly better, but if he can’t, he’ll make you do it again, despite your protests it won’t be a surprise anymore. if he does convince you to give him a redo, he’ll have a mostly perfect hold, even as you playfully roll your eyes in faux annoyance.

zhongli would catch you before you even knew you were committing to the fall. a firm touch on your back stops the trust fall before you can even yell it out. what can he say, he knows you better than you do yourself sometimes. if you try to do it again later, zhongli will also best your attempt. and if you try once more, he’ll keep that hand lingering on your back. just in case.

xiao would be very confused and almost let you fall, until his instincts kick in and his body autopilots to catch you. his hold will be firm and uncomfortable as he rights you back to your feet. he gives you a look like what are you doing? he might also ask if you’ll ill, and if you admit it’s a prank he’ll laugh, once, and then ask you to never do that again. you and your mortal antics scare him sometimes, y’know?

childe is familiar with this prank from his siblings, and he’ll play one back, by not catching you until the absolute last second. you think you’re about the hit the cold hard ground, until childe’s hand slips under your back millimeters from the impact zone. everything after that is a whirl as childe bypasses getting you back on your feet, but instead hefts you over his shoulder, maybe twirling you around. what were you thinking, pranking someone with younger and older siblings?

kaeya would warn you that he’s not going to give into you’re little prank before you start the fall. he knows what you’re up to as you survey your surroundings and decide on a place to land incase he’s not quick enough. you ain’t that sly. if you should decide to go ahead with the prank anyways, you’ll see kaeya was just bluffing, even as he grumbles with you now in his arms. give him a peck on the lips, he deserves it.

diluc would literally stop everything to catch you. pouring a drink? it’s on the floor. reading a book? not anymore! his catch might not be terribly graceful, but it’s efficient and gets the job done. you don’t touch the floor and you’re not very disoriented by the end of it. he might ask you not to do that again, before huffing out a small laugh at your prank. a dusting of rose can be seen on his cheeks at the romantic position you put him it.

alhaitham will catch you without looking. yeah, he’s just kind of cool like that. you’ll do your trust fall and alhaitham’s arm will reach out, cushioning your fall and either guiding you to the floor or righting you immediately. he’ll only look at you when it’s over, raising an eyebrow in a judgemental stare, before returning to whatever he was doing beforehand. what can he say, he’s a busy scribe/acting grand sage/boyfriend.

kaveh would fall with you. whether he was also planning a trust fall or just decided to join in, you can’t decide. all you know it that you were falling, he was falling, and seconds later, you had landed, and so had kaveh. except you landed on a confused, slightly miffed, and a little hurt, kaveh. you both laid there in bewildered silence, both trying to understand what just happened. kaveh technically did break your fall, even if it was in rather unfortunate circumstances.

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader

1K notes · View notes

boneblushed · 8 months

Text

Is it chill that you’re in my head?

synopsis your best friend James isn’t sure why he’s so angry about the fact that you’re going on a date with someone else.

wc 2.6K

“He’s looking over here,” James sings under his breath, his brown eyes full of mirth. He’s balancing on the spindly hind-legs of his library chair, the Potions essay he’s supposed to be doing laid out in disarray.

You send him a reproachful look. “You’re being malicious.” When you turn back around to face Davey Gudgeon’s table, there’s a split second of eye contact before he ducks his head down abashedly, his cheeks a brilliant rouge.

He has a crush on you, apparently. Sirius and Remus had overhead him talking about it on his way down to breakfast this morning—about how prefects rarely escaped unscathed after sharing something as intimate as a Saturday night duty.

James Potter, your best friend and a royal pain in your ass, finds this revelation abso-fucking-lutely hilarious for some reason. Asshole.

“Au contraire,” he murmurs, the grin on his face audible, “I’m being a world class wingman.”

The look on his face is downright dangerous. He waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, unperturbed by the frown on your own, a warning. Easing forward until each hind-leg finds the ground with a resounding thud, he cups his hands around his mouth, whisper-shouting, “Oi! Gudgeon!”

Davey Gudgeon reddens further, a feat you didn’t think was possible until now. He glances over at James dismally, a furtive expression on his face. “What?” He mouthes, sending you this weak half-smile. It’s sort of sweet, almost contagious. You find yourself smiling back at him on instinct.

“Come over here, you bludger,” James chastises, like that’s the obvious next step. To be fair, it probably is to him — he’s never shied away from flirting with the girls he fancies, a self-proclaimed dating aficionado with way too much chat for his own good.

Davey hesitates, his nervous gaze flitting to you momentarily. He looks as though he wants to do just that, but isn’t sure whether his crush on you is reciprocated. Sweet.

He has gentle eyes, too, pretty juniper with bright specks of burnt ochre. A nice head of brown hair. If it was cold outside, you bet he’d offer you his Quidditch jersey without hesitation.

You think you need sweet, all things considered. You’ve known James Potter all of seven years now, had a wretched crush on him all of five, and never once has he indicated that his aforementioned expertise could ever extend to you.

It’s high-time that you gave your pathetic heart a rest.

“You’re making him miserable,” you mutter, ever-reproachful.

Davey hasn’t moved yet, though you’re sure he wants to, his hands braced on the table in front of him apprehensively. He keeps looking between you and James, surveying his options; in order ease his anguish, you decide you’d better make the decision for him.

You push your chair back and stand up, it’s spindly legs scraping against the vinyl floor forebodingly. James looks up in surprise. “Where r’you going?”

“To Gudgeon’s table.”

“Why?” James urges, perplexed. He half-stands too, his features a smidge less mirthful than before.

“So you’ll stop,” you reply, frowning down at him.

He raises his arms in surrender. “I’m stopping.” A pause. In the beat that passes, his assessing gaze falls over you in paces. “You’re not… you’re not keen on him too, are you?”

You think on this, cocking your head to one side. “I don’t know. Maybe? He’s kinda sweet.”

“But he doesn’t even have the balls to come over here and ask you out properly,” James whisper-shouts, mildly exasperated.

You’ve never once called him sweet.

He’s had this tragic crush on you for all of seven years, and never once has he been on the receiving end of such a fond adjective. He’d only made a fuss over this Davey situation because he was sure it was just a jibe — no way someone like you would be interested in a guy like Gudgeon, no way you would even entertain the possibility of more than friends.

Right?

James wants that more than friends thing with you, bad. This morning, when Sirius’d brought up Bludgeon’s crush on you—sniggering violently—he’d snuck a glance at your features to ensure that it wasn’t reciprocated. He’s sure he’d caught a bit of second-hand embarrassment, though maybe it was actually just tender hearted diffidence. Maybe Davey fucking Gudgeon had something that he somehow didn’t.

Right now, James’d give up his head boy badge and Quidditch captaincy to acquire that something. His chest hurts terribly. He runs his sloven fingers through his unkempt hair, sending you another look of bewilderment.

“Because you’re here,” you reprove. “Course he’s not going to come over when the James Potter is taking the mickey out of him.”

You say his name like it’s an insult. James’ heart plummets. “I’m not — he’s welcome to come over,” he argues quietly, chagrined. “Besides, he’s going to have to get used to me if he wants to be your boyfriend.”

“Why?” You frown. “I always bugger off when you’re with another girl.”

“That’s different,” James insists, frowning in tandem.

“How’s that different?”

They aren’t you, James thinks vaguely. His poor heart blunders for the umpteenth time this afternoon. “None of them are girlfriends.”

“Not for lack of trying,” you mutter. James swears he hears a hint of spite in your tone. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. M’going over.”

James slumps back into his seat reluctantly. He knows that you’re right, begrudging as that revelation may be — he is always flirting with one girl or another, though that’s more so to pass time than anything particularly serious. Never you. You’d see right through him, anyway. Besides, the last time he tried, it’d been so disastrous you’d assumed he was joking.

It’d been at that Halloween party they’d had in the Gryffindor Common Room last year, firewhiskey flowing and sweet treats piled atop every surface.

You were wearing this gorgeous, albeit bemusing, costume of a Muggle someone — Wonder Woman, or something, James didn’t quite understand it. Showing a lot of skin. Your pretty eyes were accented by rouge glitter, lips all glossy, and your exposed limbs and bare waist had eased his heart right into his throat.

And James Potter didn’t often find himself lost for words, but it appeared as though this party was one of those exceptions.

“Woah,” he’d murmured, wolf-whistling lowly. He was in this ridiculous, Babbity Rabbity costume (courtesy of Sirius, who was a cackling pot), feeling entirely out of place when you looked so beautiful. “Christ, Y/N, who’re you meant to be? The hottest muggleborn at Hogwarts or something?”

You’d rolled your eyes then, because no way he was serious. “Don’t tease, James. Did you guys manage to snag any cauldron cakes?”

He’d been too busy to insist his sincerity, fond gaze travelling down your bare limbs, slow. Lingering on the wafer of exposed waist between your corset and skirt. He’s still agonised by the want to touch your soft skin; that wretched Hogwarts shirt tuck has prevented this from happening.

“By the fire,” he’d answered after a beat, dazed.

And when you’d fallen out of earshot, James’ eyes still trained on your figure, Sirius and Remus’d come up behind him, the latter wearing Muggle-manufactured fangs. (Supposedly, he was meant to be a vampire.)

“You’ve got a tragic affliction, James,” Sirius’d tutted under his breath, faux-apologetic. “How’re you somehow able to flirt with every girl in this room except the one that matters?”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered back at the time, though as he thinks back on it now, he realises that Sirius was right.

For some reason, with you, he always manages to say exactly the wrong thing. He watches Davey scramble to straighten as you near his library table, the heat on his neck rising until his entire face is in a flush. And you’re smiling as you sit down beside him, this sweet, unabashed smile that looks too much like feelings reciprocated. Something in James’ ribcage cracks, an ugly emotion springing forth from within it. But he’s immobile, hands on the table and furrow in his brow, agonised by the fact that you’re looking at Davy all fond, not him.

Never him. You ask a question—James is trying his best to lip-read, but it’s difficult not to get carried away staring at your mouth. Davey nods, and then reddens some more. Then you stand up, feelings-reciprocated smile on your face as you walk back over to the table you’re sharing with James.

“He looks pleased,” James mutters grumpily.

You frown. “You don’t.”

“You’re doing charity work,” he answers, ignoring the insinuation. “You know that, right?”

“James,” you sigh, “you’re being unkind.”

“Because he’s punching.” But James knows this is unfair. He’s pretty sure every bloke in Hogwarts would be, if it was you and them.

—

“James,” Sirius calls, bemused. “You coming mate?”

Its autumn in Hogsmeade, and they’ve reached a cross roads.

The path to the left of them leads to the Hog’s Head Inn, one of their favourite haunts in the village due to its relative unpopularity. To the right, where James is glancing furtively, the cobblestone pavement takes them toward the Three Broomsticks. Where you are. With Davey.

Remus shares a knowing look with Sirius. “Think he’s in the mood for one of Rosmerta’s butter-beers, actually.”

James groans, scrubbing his calloused palm down his face slovenly. He knows exactly what he’s insinuating; Remus always has been the most astute of the lot. “Don’t bloody start.”

Sirius grins then, reaching for James and throwing an arm around his neck. “Reckon you’re going to need something stronger than butter-beer if you’re planning on watching Gudgeon snog your girl.”

His heart plummets. There’s that ugly emotion again, rearing its contemptuous head at him. “Wormtail’s there too,” he tries, shoving Sirius off. “We should go say hi.”

“Oh yes,” Sirius allows, his brown eyes full of mischief. “The one Marauder with a girlfriend. You after some tips, mate?”

“Cut him some slack, Sirius,” Remus chastises, though there isn’t much fire to his tone as he says it. “Reckon he’s miserable enough about the fact that the one time he fancies a girl she isn’t interested.”

James frowns, sending the pair of them a look of determination. “Look, shove off, both of you.” The crease between his eyebrows deepens further, keenly resolute. “I just want to check on her, alright? Make sure that bludger isn’t pulling anything funny.”

“Right.” Sirius nods soberly. “Or snogging her to death.”

“Fuck,” James groans again, his insides squirming. “You’ve gotta stop putting that image in my head.”

He turns toward the path to his right, the cobblestones plush with Autumn leaves, when he spots your figure in the distance and freezes. Coming closer. You look beautiful in this matter-of-fact, effortless way that makes James’ heart stutter; your pretty eyes are alight with mirth as you catch his gaze, this fond smile on your lips that makes him want to kiss you. Bad. He swallows thickly, his chest a pathetic mess.

Sirius and Remus must spot you too, because the pair of them beginning walking backward toward the Hog’s head, their eyebrows raised in tandem.

“She isn’t with the bludger, Prongs,” calls Sirius, a knowing lilt to his tone. “Now’s your chance.”

“My chance?” James asks, distracted.

“To snog her, you idiot.”

But James doesn’t hear him. Partly because the wind’s picked up, mostly because it’s difficult for him to concentrate on anything but your growing closeness.

Once you’re within earshot—more of you to agonise over, exposed waifs of skin like a siren song—he stumbles forward clumsily.

“Y/N,” James breathes out, pleasantly surprised. “Where’s Davey?”

You grimace, looking over your shoulder furtively. “I’ve just escaped him.”

James’ stomach deflates, relief washing over him in waves. He raises his eyebrows playfully. “Escaped?”

“Don’t,” you warn, frowning sternly. “He… he’s alright, really. Just doesn’t really know how to hold a conversation.” You grimace again. “Or take a hint. Like, at all.”

“Yeah? Why’d you say that?”

“Well,” you begin, and then you shiver, moving closer to James without meaning to. “Christ, Potter, you’re a really good wind shield, y’know that?”

“At your service,” he murmurs, inching forward too. “You were saying?”

You gaze up at him, the rough planes of his face ever present, and you’re struck by the revelation that he doesn’t need an old Quidditch jersey to keep you warm. He’s a furnace of body heat and cedar-wood cologne.

“Well,” you continue, voice low, “after two butter beers and absolutely zero chat, I’d sort of assumed that he’d have realised that this just isn’t going to work.”

“But…?”

“But,” you grimace, “he asked me out again.”

The way your features twist as you say it, as though that’s the last thing you want to do, wrings any residual jealousy he may be feeling right out of his stomach. He’s struck by this suddenly, overwhelming urge to caress your jaw and pull you closer.

“And let me guess,” James murmurs, grinning fondly. “You said yes.”

“I said I’ll see.”

“I worry all this charity work’s going to be the death of you, Y/N.”

You crinkle your nose up at him, punching his chest playfully. “Don’t you start James Potter.”

James raises his arms in surrender, still grinning. His gaze lifts above your head to take in the footpath behind you, and he finds himself looking right at the burly figure of Davey Gudgeon trudging toward the pair of you.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, raising his eyebrows. “You weren’t kidding about him not being able to take a hint, huh?”

You furrow your brow, looking over your shoulder bemusedly. When your head whips back around to face him, your eyes are wide and a little tortured, dappled by the warm, orange hues of Autumn. A damsel, James’ thinks, dazed, as if that’s a normal thought for a eighteen-year-old bloke to have. He’s already spiralling over kissing you and it’s been all of five minutes.

“Is he looking over here?” You ask, your voice low.

James’ eyes dart back to Davey. “Uh, yeah?”

“Good.”

You wrap your arms around his neck hurriedly, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. James takes a second to recalibrate, his poor heart a mess, but when he does, he’s quick to circle your waist and pull you closer, his strong arms firm and torso warm on your figure. It’s a deft kiss, chaste as it is agonising, though kiss enough for him to memorise the feeling. The buttery taste of your lips, the perfect way they appear to mould against his.

It’s a tandem emotion — you’ve revelling in this kiss far more than you should, the arduous pressure of James’ lips on your own. He’s going to leave a mark. He tastes like sugar quills and feels like the death of you, his sloven hands pressing into the bare skin of your waist.

When you do finally pull away, your cheeks are warm and you’re a little breathless. “S’he still there?”

A beat passes. James doesn’t look up.

You mistake his pause for unease, and grimace abashedly, looking away from him. In hindsight, you aren’t sure what possessed you to kiss him like that — you want to pretend it was to stave Davey away, but your traitorous heart says otherwise.

God, you think, it was a really good kiss. If only James liked it as much as you did.

If only you knew.

“Sorry,” you add in a hurry, still grimacing. “I — I wasn’t thinking, I just didn’t want Davey to come over here and I —”

“Y/N,” James interrupts, his voice rough, gravelly around the edges. “Stop talking.”

You let out a breath. “Why?”

“I want to pretend you kissed me because you wanted to, just for one more second.”

“What?” You ask, your eyes wide. “Why?”

James thinks, isn’t it obvious? He’s still marvelling over how perfect your mouth is.

“Because,” he admits quietly, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

You don’t know what to say to this. Your still chest to chest with less than an inch between your figures, and you can feel your poor heart struggling to free itself from its cage. “You have?” You say, suddenly bashful.

James nods. His pupils are a little blown, his unkempt hair a mess, and he keeps his gaze trained on your lips as though he’s being paid for it. “And listen,” he murmurs, reaching forward to thumb over them softly. “Don’t worry about Davey Gudgeon.”

“Why not, James Potter?”

“Because I’d sooner die than let that bludger bore my girl to death again.”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #marauders era #James potter fanfiction

5K notes · View notes

ozzgin · 27 days

Text

Yandere! Sea Monster x Reader

In the spirit of Mermay, I come to you with a slightly different approach: an octopus hybrid, dwelling in the dark depths of ancient waters. :) Hopefully close enough to the sea monster you imagined, @wally0117

Content: gender neutral reader, male yandere, monster romance, reader likes sharks (a lot); inspired by The Shape of Water and My Octopus Teacher; photo from Whalebone Magazine

He’s always been aware of humans, naturally. Observed them from the beginnings of time, from the very first rudimentary attempt of a boat that crossed his waters. Though he can only guess how these creatures exist, how they breathe, how they move. What arrives in his depths is always a corpse of some sort. Bloated, decaying carcasses, rarely intact, whether chipped by fish or by time. Everything else is left to his imagination.

Until today. The fish are restless, the currents are stronger. Something must be happening above, stringing him along curiously. His many legs sway in tandem, opening and closing, as he investigates the source of interest. His pale white eyes narrow to a mere squint, unused to the light of the surface levels. At last, he finds it: a human.

Yet this one is unusual. Intact - save for the bleeding wound - and unlike the washed-out, cadaveric blue tint he’s normally accustomed to. He notices a twitch of the limb and it dawns on him: this one is still alive.

You wake up with a violent cough, thrusting out the leftover liquid that had invaded your lungs earlier. You clearly remember drowning, so how did you end up on shore again? The answer reveals itself rather quickly: a monstrous creature, albeit humanoid for the most part. The upper half resembles a man, but the torso ends in thick, enormous tentacles, now flopped onto the sand, surrounding your body. You search for the creature’s face, framed by translucent tendrils that seem to replace what you’d expect as hair.

“Thank you”. He scans your features and remains silent. Does he even understand human speech? After a moment of consideration, he looks ahead, surveying the water, then returns to you, giving you a nudge. He most likely wants to know how you ended up in that situation to begin with. “That’s, well…”

Conveniently enough, the monster has brought you back to your little camp, so you reach for your backpack and pull out a book. Of course, no words can ever replace the image itself. With renewed enthusiasm, you open your encyclopedia and turn it towards the man, showing him a photo of a sand tiger shark, tapping on it excitedly. “I was looking for sharks!”

Ever since the bizarre, life-saving encounter, you’ve been returning to the same spot most days. And without exception, the monster will be waiting for you in one of the neighboring caves. Judging by the pellucid, pale skin and his reluctance to be in the light, you guessed early on that he might be a creature of the depths.

One that has been around for a long time, it seems. Once he understood your interest in sharks and other aquatic animals, he developed a liking to play guide for you, silently touring you through forests of kelp, hidden caves, labyrinths of reefs and hills. He knows where the animals linger, and they don't scurry away when you approach. You've never dreamed of being so close to them, staring into their eyes and tracing their fins as they swim past you, unbothered and relaxed. The monster will gaze at you from a distance, amused by your passion.

On ground, you’ve begun your own little experiment: can the octopus creature learn sign language? You didn’t need long to discover how intelligent he is, mimicking your gestures with flawless ease, instantly memorizing the meanings, the connections, the implications. He seems to be terribly delighted by this newfound tool of communication, often asking you questions with earnest curiosity.

Ah, yes, the questions. It makes sense that he’d want to know more about humans, though his interrogations are rather…particular. Specific. It’s less about humans as a whole, and more about you. How long have you been swimming here? How deep can you actually swim, with or without aid? Might you have a family waiting for you back home? A mate, perchance? No? Interesting.

"My vacation will end soon", you sign with pursed lips. He tilts his head. "Leaving?" his webbed hands gesture, somewhat uneasy. You nod. You can discern a glint of melancholy in his eyes. Eventually, he resumes: "Would you like to see my home?" Your eyebrows raise in surprise. His home? Down there? Was such a thing even achievable for a human like you?

The plump suckers attach themselves to your skin, one resting over your mouth. "Do you trust me?" You cast one final glance over the underwater abyss, a black hole trapping all light and matter. You shake your head in approval. Without hesitation, he plunges over the cliff, pulling you after him and into the yawning void of darkness. His form glows eerily, and his movement is swift and elegant. You can tell this is his land, his territory. You would've been dead a long time ago.

He releases you on the wet stone, inside the air pocket of a cave. You need a few moments to overcome the wave of claustrophobia pressing against your lungs. As you catch your breath, you recall your long path from the surface. It would be impossible to make it back out again without your friend. A cold shiver runs across your spine. "Have a break, and I'll show you everything else afterwards", he gestures with a smile. "How long will it take? I don't want to walk back at night", you explain.

Silence. You stare into his empty orbs, awaiting a reaction. There's not a sound, not a gust of wind, not a shred of light. "You're not going back", he finally answers.

You see, he's done a fair amount of research himself. He doesn't need an encyclopedia to figure you out: how you breathe, how you move, how you exist. In fact, he is rather confident in his ways of helping you adapt to a life spent together. He would've never brought you down here if he wasn't certain of your survival. His grin widens in anticipation, a strange warmth enveloping his innards at the mere thought of it: a future with you in it, right here. However, one question remains, a cheeky, perverted detail that has been on his mind from the moment he met you, yet he could never investigate it properly.

How do humans mate?

1K notes · View notes

ttsukiimi · 2 months

Text

୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ in which geto has never really found a purpose for the mirror in his bedroom until you.

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ geto x fem!reader, smut (mdni), full nelson position, size difference if u squint, katoptronophillia? (sx in front of a mirror), slight belly bulge, marking, unprotected sx, bit rough at the end, creamp!e. (he basically fcks you dumb!)

Suguru had always had this fantasy--a wet dream even--of ruining someone in front the spacious, looming mirror perched at the foot of his bed. Hell, he'd barely even look into the thing, only doing so when he was in a hurry or in need to fix his hair or clothes. So, it just always seemed so right.

The lucky day you finally came around, doe eyes innocently surveying around the room, lips curling upwards into a smile as he took your smaller form in his arms, he knew you'd be the one to fulfill this dirty little fantasy of his.

His sharp eyes didn't fail to notice the way your vision zoned to the mirror, admiring the gold little details around the frame. "Sugu, what do you use that for?" You asked in that sugary tone of yours, unknowing of what the question would arise into.

Suguru chuckled at the question, seeing his chance, and planted a kiss to your pulse-point, peering up at you, eyes entwined with something you couldn't quite place at the moment.

"Wanna find out?"

And you did soon enough. But by that point in time, he had your thighs pressed against your stomach as his arms locked around the back of your knees, cock pummeling in and out of you at an almost inhuman pace.

Sweat trickled down his forehead, hot pants fanning past your neck.

"Do you know now, princess?" he questioned, the sentence shaky. You locked eyes with him through the reflective glass, moaning alone at the cocky yet pleasure-stricken look on his handsome face.

Your mind felt too fuzzy for you to even consider answering him, mouth opening for an answer, though all that came out was an incoherent mewl.

"Feels that fucking good, huh? Got you dumb on my cock." Suguru groaned, losing himself to the way your walls pulsed and clamped down so deliciously around him, sucking him in like he was the breath to your lungs.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment at the noise your cunt made around him, the loud squelch of your juices being smothered on his dick. And even though you inwardly hoped the shameful sound would stop--Suguru felt his cock twitch inside you--it was like music to his ears.

Closing your eyes, you let your hand hang back, but almost as fast as you had did so, he spoke up. "Keep your eyes on the mirror."

And he thrust in particular hard, causing you to yelp in pleasure and pain and immediately comply with him. "But Sugu, can't keep them open," you watched his reflection, hoping he'd at least serve you some mercy--but no.

"'M not saying it again, baby." that was final. His lips attached to your neck and sucked, only popping them off until he was satisfied with the blemishes on your supple skin. He watched as he entered and came out of you, your clit red and swollen while your folds stretched to accommodate his size.

Suguru slid his gaze up and almost came on the spot.

He could see a slight bulge on your lower stomach where he fucked into you, and he swore something feral let loose in him. Suddenly he was rutting into you twice as fast, heavy and thick inside, a thin sheen of sweat now covering his forehead and sculpted body.

"Y'fucking feel that? Feel me where I'm not supposed to be?" he panted near your ear, your toes curling in sheer pleasure. You nodded, not daring to open your mouth, and let the feeling consume you.

Your thighs began to shake as you neared your high, your nerves overwhelmed with static. "Cumming!"

Before your juices dripped down his cock, the warm feeling triggering his own orgasm, and he gazed at you.

"Inside."

Suguru didn't need any more than that. He released his pent-up load into you, fucking all of it into you.

You were both left panting, inhaling in air that smelled of sex. He sighed contently and pressed a kiss to your forehead, placing your still quivering and sweaty body on the bed.

"That was..." you cut yourself off for air, "So good, Sugu."

Suguru kissed you again, this time on your lips, slowly pulling out of you with a pained and muffled groan. You didn't even want to let go of him.

His lusty gaze snaked down to your battered cunt, drinking in the sight of his seed dripping out of you and the white ring of cum formed around his base.

"Thank you, princess."

1K notes · View notes

brain-rot-central · 5 months

Text

Possession

A/N: This is pure filth. I'm so sorry.

Word count: 2.8k

Rating: Explicit. Please read the warnings!

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x FemaleHuman!Tav (the reader is Tav)

Warnings: 18+, fingering, cum play, cunnilingus, PiV sex, religion kink, praise kink, breeding kink, corruption kink, possessiveness, slight bdsm?, slight DD/lg (if you squint enough), cock drunk, pussy drunk

Summary: Astarion hasn't had anything in so long, not even himself.

Until you.

Astarion sighs above you with a great heave of his chest, his head dropping low enough to rest his forehead against yours.

You unhook your legs from around the small of his back as aftershocks of your orgasm rock through you. Your legs come to rest on either side of your vampiric lover, his cock still buried within the warmth of your sex. With every rhythmic contraction of your walls around his length, you feel it twitch from within. The head of his cock is nestled at the base of your cervix, and you let out a pleasured mewl knowing he's dribbling the last of his spend directly into your ripened womb with each pulse of his shaft.

Gently, Astarion pulls his length free from your warm nest. You whimper at the sudden loss of feeling full, and his seed begins to seep from entrance. It trickles down your folds and pools under you, causing you to shiver as the night air cools it quickly against your heated skin.

“Tch, such a waste,” Astarion says with a click of his tongue. He's looking down at the apex of your thighs to survey his handiwork, disappointed seeing all of his effort lay in vain.

The blush on your cheeks was finally subsiding when a new wave of warmth rushes to your face again as his eyes study your cunt. Astarion runs a finger up your swollen sex, catching some of his spend and bringing it back up to your entrance. He pushes his finger into your thoroughly stretched hole, languidly pumping the digit in and out.

“We simply cannot have that,” Astarion comments. He removes his digit from your cunt and begins to slither down your torso, littering your sternum in chaste kisses as he goes. “In fact,” he states with a silken tone, “one cannot accept such poor conditions.”

Your nipples harden to stiff peaks as his tongue dips into the valley of your navel. Your legs bend at the knees almost instinctively as Astarion’s lips kiss the curls atop your mound.

Every memory cell in your body responds to Astarion autonomically, as if his touch has been seared into each of your nerve endings. It is intoxicating, and you can never get enough.

This man has dragged you into the depths of the Hells themselves. You've fallen out of favor with the Morninglord and have been shunned by your entire clergy as a consequence of succumbing to Astarion's advances.

It started as a simple favor; a quaint exchange. His continued vigor and vitality, all for the small price of occasional sips of your blood. You were hesitant at first, but you inevitably agreed.

You had no idea it would lead to you being on all fours in the cellar of an abandoned ruin, Astarion mercilessly pounding into you from behind as he grips your hair for leverage. You forfeited your honor to him, and your maidenhood, all too enthusiastically.

And you would do it all over again, for as long as he would allow it.

“We certainly need to rectify this unfortunate predicament,” he says. He kisses the soft skin of your inner left thigh, and you squirm at the stark temperature contrast of his cool lips against your heated skin.

A whimper escapes you as you feel the tip of his nose rub against your clit. Astarion licks a wet stripe up your center and you spread your legs wider, grinding your pelvis down onto the wet muscle.

His hands come up to wrap around your thighs as he suckles on your swollen nub, languidly stroking it with his tongue. You grip the sheets of the bed below you and pull as a strangled moan rips from your throat.

“A-Astarion,” you manage, voice barely above a whisper, “g-gods, please, it's so d-dirty…” Your voice trails off into a moan as he drags his tongue up your taint, collecting the remnants of his spend in a small well.

“F-fuck-!” you yell as his tongue pushes past your entrance, fucking himself back into your hole. Astarion hums into your cunt as he drives his tongue deeper into you, moving his head in just the right way for the tip of his nose to rub deliciously against your clit.

“The Gods are dead, my darling. There is only us,” he speaks into you. The vibration of his voice travels up into your pelvis and spreads across your abdomen, causing an obscene contraction of your walls around his tongue.

Your hands fly up onto his head and grip fistfuls of silver locks, bracing your feet on the bed as you grind yourself over his face. You cast your eyes down between your thighs to inspect the scene below, your breath coming in short gasps.

Smoldering red eyes meet yours, Astarion's eyelashes fluttering as he continues to hum into your sex. He meets your gaze once again and your heart begins to beat wildly inside of your chest.

This man was beautiful, so godsdamned beautiful.

And he was yours.

All yours.

Suddenly, he pulls himself away from your center and you whine in protest. You exchange glances and you see the corner of his mouth pulling upward into a crooked smile. Astarion pulls himself up and over your body again, bracing himself on his elbows on either side of your torso.

You moan softly as you feel his reawakened lust now resting against you, thick and heavy between your folds. The thought of using the small of his back as leverage to glide yourself against the weighted appendage crosses your mind, and you throw your head back with an exasperated sigh.

His hips twitch in response to your wanton display of pleasure and he groans, driving his hardened length through the slick heat of your swollen sex. He glides himself back and forth, smearing your arousal with slow rolls of his hips.

Once again, body almost possessed, your legs come up to wrap themselves around the small of his back, and you wrap your arms around his neck. The pre-cum leaking from his tip provides additional lubrication, and you mewl as the head of his cock teases your clit with each canting of his hips. He continues this torturous routine as he drops his face mere millimeters away from yours.

“I want you to taste us, my love,” Astarion coos as he pulls at your bottom lip with blunted teeth. “I want you to savor how well we complement one another.”

He skirts his tongue across your lips, seeking entrance. You open your mouth to accept him, and you immediately groan in pleasure at the taste spreading over your tongue.

Bittersweet yet mellow, with a distinct note that hits the back of your throat. Your whole body convulses, your back arching off the bed, chest pushing into his. It was debauched and utterly sinful; it was absolutely divine.

“Do you taste it, my darling?” Astarion asks as he pulls his mouth away from yours. His head dips to the nape of your neck and you shiver as he kisses your tender skin. “Can you taste how well we complete one another?”

Your hands travel up the back of his head and you tilt your neck off to the side, allowing Astarion better access to the column of your neck. His tongue worries the two small scars beginning to develop over your jugular vein, his favorite place to feed on you, and you grip fistfuls of his hair.

“Do you know what else I taste, pet?” His mouth closes over the ghosts of your scars and your body convulses, wanton moans spilling from your lips as he nibbles the soft flesh.

“W-hat, else?” you breathe out, words separated by huffs.

“Your arousal.” He licks a stripe up the side of your neck, mouth close now to your ear. “Your excitement.” He nips at your earlobe, pulling gently. His voice drops into a low growl and he speaks into your ear, “Your fertility.”

Your whole body arches off the bed, your breasts pushing into his chest, and you writhe under him. A bolt of lighting shoots across your pelvis as the walls of your cunt clench around the memory of your first time.

You think back to your coupling in the cellar, you on all fours as he slams into you repeatedly from behind. There was no other sound in that cellar aside from the wet squelching of your sex as he drove his length into you repeatedly.

You recall how thoroughly full you felt, how thoroughly mated. Your body willfully opening to him, beckoning him to claim you further. His hands on your hips held you steady as he filled you to the brim with his seed. You'd never cum harder in your life, your walls milking every last drop of his release.

Your clergy be damned; you knew there and then that you wanted Astarion on a carnal level. You want your womb to be desecrated by the sowing of his undead children.

“You want this, don't you?” he moans into your ear, accentuating his words with a drawn out thrust between your legs. Astarion braces his weight on one arm, snaking one hand up and over the delicate column of your throat.

You moan and lift your chin up just as his fingers wrap around your throat. “Tell me how much you want this, little love,” he says to you.

“Do you still want me?” is the silent question wrapped within his words.

Your hands release their hold on his hair and come to grasp the one on your neck. “A-Astarion,” you breathe, voice hoarse as his palm pushes against the center of your throat. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you continue grinding your hips against his length, the head of his cock teasing your soaked entrance.

“What do you want me to do, Tavaria?” Astarion huffs out, voice desperate as he tries to resist the urge to sink himself into your warm, inviting center.

“I want… Gods…”

“What, do you want, Tavaria?” His voice is stern and demanding as he growls into your ear. “Tell me, now.”

Do you still want this, all of this? Us? …All of me?

Your head is swimming. You can think of nothing else but depraved, carnal lust.

“Fuck me, please, Astarion…” You open your eyes, hooded in lust, and meet his gaze. His mouth is slightly agape as he sucks in ragged breaths, his pupils blown wide. “Please, Astarion,” you beg.

The hand on your neck now rises to clasp your chin, holding your head steadfast. “Again,” he growls out, “say it again.” He grinds his hips further against yours.

You moan loudly into the night air, hoping no one from the nearby town hears. “Mark me, Astarion,” you manage to breathe out. “Fill my womb until the entire world can see what you've done to me.” You bring the hand holding your chin up to your mouth, placing soft kisses on the tips of his fingers. “Please,” you whine.

Astarion peels himself away from you in an instant, sitting up on his knees. “Turn over,” he growls out through gritted teeth.

It takes a second for the words to register in your brain, but your body inevitably moves as he commands. You turn yourself over on the forest floor, supporting yourself on your hands and knees. His palms sink into the plush flesh of your hips and he pulls you back toward him, his cock brushing up against the cleft of your ass.

You look over your shoulder to see him spit into his palm, working it over his length with urgent strokes. Suddenly the head of his cock nudges against your entrances and he sinks himself in. Your arousal provides enough support for him to fully sheath himself within you, and he hisses as his tip pushes against the end of your cervix.

Your arms give way and you lean forward onto your elbows, head dropping between your arms as your hips move of their own accord back and forth over his length. Your cunt throbs with each pass of his cock against your walls, and you sigh as it rubs against the spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

“Gods, you are so fucking warm,” he growls from behind you. Astarion reaches forward and grips a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back up. His other hand is sunken into your hip in a vice grip, holding you in place as he continues careening you both toward completion. You know you'll have a bruise come tomorrow, but you didn't care. You want him to mark you, to claim you.

You desperately push yourself back up onto the palms your hands, your muscles struggling to support your weight as your pleasure builds. Your whole body is shaking as you continue to meet his thrusts with your hips. Astarion adjusts his angle ever so slightly behind you, the head of his cock now pushing directly into the spot that turns your vision hot white.

“A-Astarion,” you mumble as saliva pools in your mouth, “d-don’t stop-!” You feel your thighs quaking, your cunt fluttering wildly over his length as you draw closer and closer to the edge.

Astarion catches onto your rapidly approaching crescendo and increases the pace. The clearing is filled with nothing but the wet sound of your arousal and skin slapping against skin. He lifts his chin up toward the sky and his mouth hangs open as he moans incoherently into the night air, hips never faltering in their assault.

“My sweet girl,” he says to you, voice thoroughly and completely wrecked, “you always feel so good around my cock.”

You feel yourself clench around him in response to his praise, pleasured mewls escaping your lips. His hand releases its grip on your hair, coming to rest on your hip as his fingertips sink into the supple skin beneath them. He's spearing himself directly into your cunt, directly into that spongy spot inside you, and your arms falter once again. At this point, you're not going to last much longer.

You cross your arms in front of you, resting your head on your forearms. Your brain has ceased all logical thought as he fucks into you mercilessly from behind. You mumble a mantra of “please, yes, please, oh, there, keep going,” from under him.

One particular thrust has you seeing stars explode behind your vision and you spill over the edge into oblivion. You think you scream, the pleasure ripping through you so intensely that it obscures your other senses, but they're muffled by your face buried in your forearms.

His hips still as your walls contract around him. He sucks in a deep breath through gritted teeth, uneven pants escaping his mouth. He begins to move behind you again, his hips stuttering in short bursts into your wet heat. “I'm going… I'm going to…” he pants from behind you, chest heaving.

You manage to raise your head enough to look briefly over your shoulder. He looks thoroughly debauched; damp strands of silver hair are plastered to his face and beads of sweat drip from the tip of his nose.

He is devastatingly handsome.

“Do it,” you reassure him, softly. “It's okay.”

Astarion’s mouth drops open, a raw, guttural growl rupturing from his throat. His bottom fangs glint in the moonlight and his eyes roll back into his skull as hips finally cease. The grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you further into him, and then you feel it.

Thick ropes of heat coat the inside of your cunt and you moan, feeling some of it slip out between the place where you're joined and drip down onto the forest floor below.

With a drawn-out sigh, he slumps against your back, the added weight causing you both to collapse onto the soft earth below. You feel him mouthing softly against your back, leaving absent-minded kisses across your skin as his brain performs yet another hard reset, the second one of the evening.

Astarion’s senses finally return and he pulls himself free, rolling off of you and onto his back. You reposition yourself onto your side and slot yourself against him. His arm comes down over your shoulder, and you tuck your head against his chest. You feel Astarion kiss the top of your head, and you sigh in contentment at the warm gesture.

Neither of you speak another word, thoroughly spent. As your eyes fall closed, you nestle your cheek against his chest and hear the slow thud of his heart as it lulls you to sleep.

Within his arms, you are safe.

You are loved.

You are home.

#astarion smut #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x female tav #smut

2K notes · View notes