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fangswbenefits · 5 months

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The Arrangement (5) - Confrontation

Summary: Living under the same roof as Astarion was proving to me more of a challenge than you had anticipated.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: Nightmare. Hurt/Comfort. Innuendo. Heavy use of sarcasm hahaha.

Word count: 4.4k

Previous chapter. Ao3. Series Masterlist

If anyone had suggested a few days ago that you'd find yourself living under the same roof as Astarion, you would have called them delusional and point them to the nearest infirmary for a mental check.

But the wheels of fate turned in mysterious ways, and a mere glance at the man sitting across from you was proof enough of that.

The flames swirling and crisping in the nearby fireplace cast the most delicate yellow and orange tint on his pale complexion as he flipped the pages of a book you had lent him.

You had tried to focus on your own reading, but you just couldn't help but to occasionally shift your gaze to him.

Gods… it was nigh criminal how handsome this man was.

It was as if he had been hand-carved by someone intended on wreaking havoc in the name of beauty.

And, as far as you were concerned, they had thoroughly succeeded.

Suddenly, he lifted his head and he met your gaze dead-on, unblinkingly.

So handsome…

A cold shiver ran up the back of your neck, but you found herself unable to look away. It was as if, in that moment, you had managed to block out everything around you but him. The longer you stared at him, the more acutely you felt detached from reality.

“May I kiss you?”

You blinked a few times. “What?”

His eyes narrowed, one eyebrow raised in sheer perplexity.

“No need to look so offended, darling,” he said with a scoff, rising from his seat and snatching the candle holder from the table to your right. “I was merely asking for this. I apologise if the request is out of the realm of your ‘one hundred good deeds I must perform before I perish’ list.”

You blinked again.

What?

You glanced around, but judging from the lack of reaction from both Gale and Shadowheart, you figured that maybe he hadn't actually asked to kiss you.

Great. Now I'm hallucinating…

He returned to his padded chair with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I've seen more light in the deepest corners of the Shadowlands.”

Maybe sleep deprivation was finally taking its toll on you, rendering you delirious.

Regardless, the illusion had been enough to flare your heart, and you hurriedly focused your attention on the book in your hands.

“I had quite forgotten how peacefully silent it can be without having you around, Astarion.” Shadowheart spoke as she tended to a few rolls of parchment and letters.

“Well, you can thank Wyll for that.”

She ignored him. “All you do is complain.”

You felt a storm brewing on the horizon as you lifted your eyes to glance at him.

Astarion let out a cynical laugh. “You're one to speak.”

Shadowheart was now scowling. Deeply.

“Besides, that is a rather disingenuous accusation. Want proof?” he asked, clearing his throat. “So, Gale - what are you reading that has you scribbling about like a mad man?”

The wizard snapped out of his nose-deep dive and brought his quill to a halt with a beaming smile. “Glad you ask, my friend. ‘A Visual Guide to Baldur's Gate's Exquisite Cuisine’. First edition. Hand-signed by the finest chefs in the city. What a marvel, indeed.”

As expected, Astarion looked as unimpressed as ever, but you interjected before he could mouth anything obtuse.

“That sounds rather exciting, Gale.”

He nodded eagerly. “A small guilty pleasure of mine, I must say. I'm taking down some notes, so that I can - hopefully - prepare some delectable dishes for us.”

Shadowheart's eyes remained fixed on Astarion as if awaiting for him to burst at any moment.

He exchanged a quick glance with you before muttering, “Unbelievable.”

“I think it's to be commended that he cares enough to try,” you said sweetly, earning a scornful glare from him. “I can't wait for you to showcase your abilities, Gale.”

“My sentiments exactly, dear friend.”

Astarion chuckled darkly. “‘Abilities’ as in setting the kitchen ablaze, or…”

You shot him a death glare.

He shrugged. “You two are a match made in the hells.”

This had you snap your book closed with a loud thud, eyeing him defiantly. “So what constitutes an engaging reading to you, Astarion? Murderous ploys?”

His lips curled into a devious smile. “Something along those lines. Although I do enjoy indulging in some debauchery from time to time.”

You weren't sure Gale would set the kitchen ablaze with his cooking skills, but Astarion's blunt and crass words sure did that to your cheeks.

Shadowheart scoffed.

“There are some interesting books in my collection,” he continued, clearly enjoying your loss of composure. “I will gladly lend you some… or maybe offer a guided tour through my favourite pieces?”

You needed to change the subject.

Fast.

You were most definitely fighting a losing battle.

This was Astarion's playground, and he would always come out victorious.

“Must you always resort to such vulgarity?” Shadowheart sneered, shaking her head in disapproval.

“I'm afraid the city is fresh out of those who know how to properly enjoy themselves, and we can't all be dullards, darling.”

You cleared your throat. “So, Gale… you're leaving for Waterdeep soon enough.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Yes. If all goes well, we shall have access to the Wish spell soon enough, my vampling friend.”

Astarion crossed his arms. “Finally some progress.”

“Maybe you should be more thankful.” You said with a frown.

“As should you,” he shot back. “No more need to offer your blood to me.”

Fair enough.

“Much to your disappointment, I imagine.” Shadowheart chimed in.

But before he could retort, you heard a rising commotion outside that only came to a halt as the front door burst open.

Lae'zel came through, carrying what appeared to be a very much deceased wild boar across her shoulders as if it was nothing more than a sack of feathers.

She kicked the door shut at once, nostrils flaring. “Tsk'va! What are those two doing outside?”

“House arrest.” Astarion informed.

Bringing the carcass to the kitchen table, Lae'zel locked eyes with you, visibly annoyed.

“I had plans to rescue you from that prison. And I would have had it my way had it not been for Gale and his… morals.”

Gale bolted from his seat, suddenly looking rather distressed. “Lae'zel, we've spoken about this before and agreed not to bring bleeding carcasses into our home.”

She glared at him. “You alone agreed to it - I had no part in it.”

He gave her an exasperated look, picking up a piece of cloth to wipe away the strands of blood that had begun to run along the wooden surface.

“If this falls on the carpet, it will be a nightmare to remove the stains.”

Astarion tutted. “Darling, that carpet is so hideous that being splattered with carrion blood would be a vast improvement.”

You rose to your feet, rushing to join Lae's zel, who quickly placed her hand on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your lips tugged into a genuine smile.

To her, this was the equivalent of ‘I am glad you're safe and I care for you’ and it warmed your heart beyond measure.

Naturally, Astarion quickly joined your side, earning Lae'zel's disdainful gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, it was a two-for-one type of deal, wasn't it?” Astarion mocked, turning to you. “Free one criminal and get two on house arrest.”

Unfortunately for Astarion, Lae'zel had little patience to entertain his sarcastic remarks and merely scoffed.

“I would have easily rescued from that prison, you know?” She gave your shoulder another squeeze and you nodded. “Those frail guards are no match for a githyanki.”

“On that much we can agree.” He mused.

She gave him a stern look. “I would have left you there.”

“We fought a giant brain, a scheming squid, and a whole parade of lunatics side by side, in case you've forgotten, my dear nest of vipers friend,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe you ought to show more gratitude.”

You expected her to snap at him, but she merely pressed her lips and gave him a nod.

That would be as far as she'd go, though.

“Well, as much as I enjoy this ‘family’ reunion, I'm off to my room,” Shadowheart said from a distance, already heading towards the staircase. “Please do not maim each other in my absence - there's only so much healing I can provide.”

You chuckled and she smiled warmly at you.

“Say, Lae'zel…” Astarion started, circling the boar with utmost interest. “I would hate for perfectly adequate blood to go to waste.”

The implication in his words wasn't subtle at all, and she groaned. “I thought you feeding on our friend was enough.”

Your stomach lurched violently.

He scoffed. “There is no such thing as ‘enough’ blood for a vampire. Besides, she's the main course… this would be more of an aperitif, if you will.”

Now, you felt positively sick to your core.

A wave of nausea and repulsion gripped you tight.

“It would be a mutually beneficial situation - I save Gale from a mental breakdown, sparing you tue ordeal, and I also get to quench my hunger.”

Gale grumbled something in agreement.

But you felt the sudden wish to be swallowed whole by some magical hole in the ground.

The way he referred to you as nothing more than food prompted a visceral reaction from you, and you feared you might empty the contents of your stomach from it alone.

“Um… I'll go get some sleep… I'm too tired,” you said dismissively, already pacing towards the corridor that led to your room. “Have a good night.”

Astarion called after you, but you didn't bother looking back.

But before you could turn the doorknob, you heard light steps approaching and firm fingers gripping your forearm.

Astarion.

His face was void of any amusement. “You're upset.”

You pulled free from his grasp. “A neat observation. No wonder you're such a skilled rogue.”

His brows furrowed lightly. “What's the matter?”

“It seems that I'm only worthy of your attention when it comes to you treating me as nothing but a meal, to hurl your sarcastic remarks at. Oh - and unless I'm on the verge of death,” you said, counting on each finger.

He seemed quite taken aback, his features twisting into a scowl. “You really adore selling yourself short, don't you?”

“You won't even deny it.”

“Then what sort of attention do you want from me?” He asked, taking a step closer, the sudden proximity catching you off-guard. “Do enlighten me.”

You glared at him in silence for a moment, vaguely wondering how the two of you had gotten to this point in your relationship, where everything seemed so… off.

Astarion was standing in front of you, but it wasn't truly him.

He was there, but not really.

He seemed so detached from the Astarion you had fallen for, and a part of you loathed that you had allowed yourself to get so attached to him in the first place.

Eventually, you heaved a deep sigh as he awaited your reply. “The sort of attention I don't have to beg for.”

His face softened briefly and he parted his lips only to press them close together again as if he had decided against speaking.

Right.

You swallowed hard. “Have a good night.”

The hopeful part of you half-expected him to stop you from walking away as you closed the door behind you, but he did no such thing.

You pressed your back against it, taking a deep breath, feeling as if you had just lost something.

Had you been too dramatic?

Did it even matter at this point?

Maybe it was better off this way.

You moved to scrub your face clean in the washbasin, preparing yourself to get some rest before the morning came.

Whatever was of your relationship with Astarion would have to wait for you to be able to think more clearer.

Slipping into your nightdress, you allowed yourself to fall on your bed and onto your stomach with a muffled thud, wanting to do nothing more than to scream into the covers, but remained still instead.

After what felt like hours of restlessly rolling beneath the sheets, you felt your mind lighten and were able to find solace in the peace and quiet.

That was until you heard a distant voice.

A woman's voice.

Her voice.

“Go on. Bleed her dry for me…”

You felt the mattress dip slightly and your eyes snapped open only to find Astarion baring his fangs.

And then he was on you, pinning you frozen with both hands.

“No - stop! Get off!”

He didn't hold back and you felt a familiar sting tear through your neck, his cold lips sprawling across your skin.

“She's so pathetic. Just kill her. Put her out of her misery.”

“Get off!” You cried out, feeling his weight pinning you down.

He didn't waver and you felt your blood being drained from you alarmingly fast as you tried your best to yank free from his vicious grip.

You were going to die.

He was going to kill you.

“Stop! Please - Astarion!”

Something was squeezing your shoulder and you tried to squirm away from the increasing pressure.

You felt him chuckle in amusement against your skin and that was what killed you first.

“ASTARION!”

The grip on you kept on increasing and you realised someone was shaking you.

“Wake up.”

How was he speaking whilst fiercely feeding on you?

Were you already dead?

Your cries turned into uncontrollable sobs and you felt like breathing was no longer an option.

“Wake up!”

The shove against your shoulder was too fierce this time, and you jolted violently, feeling the pressure on top of you only faintly ease.

“Get the fuck off me!”

You tried to conjure a spell - any spell - that might help you set yourself free.

He called out your name and your eyes snapped open at once, only to see Astarion hovering over you, hand now pressed firmly against your lips, muffling your sobs.

Bergamot.

Rosemary.

Aged brandy.

It was him.

He was there.

The nightmare faded with each passing second, and, for the longest time, all you could hear were your laboured breaths as you struggled to step into reality.

Your eyes were blurred from the tears welling up, and you watched his lips part to utter something, but the pounding in your ears prevented you from understanding a single word.

He eventually dropped the hand from your mouth, staring at you with an understanding look on his face.

“You're safe."

For a split second, you wondered if this was truly your Astarion, and once you asserted that it was truly him sitting beside you, you pushed yourself from the mattress, looping your arms around his neck.

He took you in his arms, gently pressing his lips to your temple.

“You're safe. I'm here and I've got you."

You couldn't stop the tears from streaming down as you pressed your face to his shoulder, seeking any sliver of comfort he could spare you.

The door to your room burst open.

“What happened? What did you do?”

Shadowheart's accusatory tone ground on your already fragile nerves.

“She was having a nightmare.”

His cool hand came to the back of your head, further pressing you into him.

“Oh. Another one…”

You felt your heartbeat soothe and your breathing gradually even out.

But his embrace felt too much like coming home for you to part from him, so you didn't, allowing him to rock you gently in his arms.

“It's become more frequent as of late.” She said with a hint of sadness to her voice.

Astarion kept his lips pressed to your temple, grounding you.

You eventually pulled back from him with a loud sniffle. “I'm fine. I am sorry I worried you…”

Shadowheart approached you, kindness on her face. “Nonsense. I am here for you - we are here for you,” she added, glancing at Astarion. “Always.”

“I'll just try to get some rest… you two may go…” you stammered in between a few sobs.

Shadowheart didn't move and neither did Astarion.

You rubbed your puffy and wet eyes. “I mean it. It will be fine.”

“Very well,” Shadowheart drawled out reluctantly. “But please let me know if there is anything I can help with.”

You gave her a reassuring nod paired with a comforting smile.

She returned the gesture and excused herself, clicking the door shut behind her.

Your gaze shifted to him. “You can leave, too.”?

He scoffed. “No.”

“What?”

“You'll have to stake me.”

You were utterly confused by his perseverance.

“I am fine, Astarion. I am thankful for your help, but… you don't have to stay.”

He nodded. “I don't have to, but I want to.”

Your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

And then your eyes fell to his shoulder.

“Oh, my…” you winced at the sight of the soppy fabric of his shirt. “I'm sorry for that…”

He looked confused at first, but followed your line of sight and smiled. “Was this an excuse to get me out of my shirt?”

His playful jab immediately had you chuckle, rolling your eyes at him.

“Not to mention that I've been covered in all sorts of your bodily fluids,” he went on, earning a surprised glare from you. “This might be my…” he paused brielfy, as if evaluating his options. “Ah - my third favourite, yes.”

You should have known better than to take the evident glare, but you could really use the distraction.

“What are the first two, then?”

You hadn't even realised your nightdress had come undone at the front until he reached out to pull back the sleeve that had slid down your arm.

Glancing down, you couldn't help the rush of heat on your cheeks as your breasts were barely covered at all.

“Blood, naturally,” he said in a low voice, tying each set of strings with unmatched dexterity, keeping your modesty preserved. “And your-”

But before he could reply, you quickly pressed your forefinger to his lips, eyes widening as you felt him smile under your touch and pressing a soft kiss.

You felt as though you might implode.

His hands moved up your chest, tying up the last knots.

“There - all neatly wrapped up like a nice little gift.” He said, amusement coating his words.

He was too good at getting under your skin.

More than you were willing to admit, especially out loud.

“Thank you for making me laugh.” You said truthfully, pushing aside how he had so easily made you feel all heated up.

“I aim to please.”

His words hit you like a thousand knives.

“You're more than that…” You said, wanting to reassure him that he didn't need to resort to honeyed words and calculated moves to create a meaningful connection with someone.

But your statement had the opposite effect, and he frowned slightly.

“Don't. Do not start…”

You swallowed and nodded in understanding. “I didn't mean to offend.”

He shook his head, adjusting the fabric of your nightdress over your shoulders. “You didn't. I merely do not wish to make this about me.”

You were slightly taken aback.

“I know all too well the burden of nightmares,” he explained. “Even if elves don't indulge in conventional sleep, we are still prone to nightmares when we trance.”

Oh.

“And I would hate for you to be plagued like that.”

You lowered your gaze, feeling extremely exposed all of a sudden.

“So tell me, darling, when did these start?” He asked, shifting closer to you. “And why were you screaming my name?”

You felt a lump swell in your throat.

He placed his finger under your chin, and pressed upwards until your eyes met his.

“What haunts you?”

You.

“Can we just… not…” You asked, already feeling tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.

Reason told you that a heartfelt conversation with Astarion was long overdue, but you didn't feel ready.

You still felt too startled and too vulnerable.

He had hurt you in more ways than one, even if unconsciously done at times.

“We don't have to talk about it.”

You nodded, a few tears rolling down. “Thank you.”

“We can push all of that aside, even if just for tonight.”

Your heart hammered fast inside you.

He then cradled your face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips to each cheek, kissing your tears away.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he trailed down, inching closer to your lips.

A shudder coursed throughout your entire body, barely able to contain the anticipation.

Please kiss me…

His thumbs rubbed slow circles on your flushed cheeks and your lips parted as his ghosted yours.

Astarion…

Almost there.

You could almost taste him.

Your hands came to grip his wrists tightly, silently urging him to take you.

Please… please…

As your heart thudded faster and faster, you gasped when he quickly kissed the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your forehead.

You couldn't deny the overwhelming wave of disappointment that washed over you, even if, deep down, you realised it was probably the best course of action, considering how vulnerable you still felt from the nightmare.

A few more tears spilled over, which he quickly brushed away before pulling back.

“I can stay until you fall asleep.”

Your heart dropped.

Everything was conditional with him.

It was always meant to come to an end, eventually.

He would stay with you… but only until you drifted off to another nightmare, perhaps.

It was as if he couldn't simply stay with you.

You shook your head with a sniffle, letting go of him. “No. You can go… but thank you for this.”

“I can stay.”

“... until I fall asleep.” You finished his sentence.

He nodded, eyes locking with yours. “Or for as long as you need me.”

You felt ridiculous from the way your heart immediately skipped a beat.

“Will you hug me?”

He shifted back against the headboard and sprawled his arms out to you with a sly grin. “Come here, darling.”

For a brief moment, you saw your Astarion again.

Open and caring.

You scooted over to rest your body against his, smiling softly as he placed his arm around you, trailing absent-minded caresses along your arm.

His coldness felt comfortable even in the dead of night, and you wrapped your arm around his torso, enjoying the silence.

“Am I too cold?”

You're perfect.

You shook your head vehemently.

But he still reached out to grab the blanket at your feet, draping over your frame.

“You are shivering, you fool.” He whispered and you could hear the smile in his remark.

You snuggled up against him, wishing you could freeze this moment in time.

Slowly but surely, and lulled by his caresses, you felt exhaustion take over, your eyelids feeling progressively heavier.

Maybe this was all a dream.

Maybe you'd wake up only to find that this had never happened.

That you hadn't felt your Astarion once again.

His chin was resting atop your head and your heart skipped yet another beat.

“Astarion?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened to us…”

The hand on your arm stilled for a moment and he hushed you. “Just rest.”

Your eyelids did feel heavy, and you could recognise your own brain fighting away your sleep, but you still wanted to know.

You needed to know what had gone so terribly wrong.

Especially when the man holding you in his arms had just provided immeasurable comfort.

“I miss you… us…” You heard yourself mumble under your breath.

He did utter something unintelligible, but you were far too exhausted to ask for a repeat.

Your warm body slumped against his cold one as he lulled you into sleep with the rhythmic caresses on your back.

It seemed that this time, your nightmare had started and ended with him.

Morning came and he was gone.

Of course he was.

Even with your windows barred from the sun, he had still chosen to leave.

He had tucked you under the bedsheets and warm blankets.

You had nearly forgotten what a good night of sleep was ever since the nightmares had taken root in your mind.

His scent lingered all around you and it was impossible to escape it.

You eventually pushed yourself up to sit in silence, going over the events of a couple of hours ago.

Why did he always leave in the end?

Why couldn't you just bring yourself to move on from him?

You could have taken the time to open up to him about how you felt, but you were so afraid to push him away.

He had his own vulnerabilities and he didn't need yours weighing him down, too.

You lazily scrambled out of bed, slipping into your robe, ready for a new day.

As you made your way down the corridor, you began to hear heated voices coming from the kitchen.

“Must we all live in darkness because of you?”

You found Astarion sitting by the table, seemingly unbothered by Lae'zel's snarky remarks, the room plunged in darkness, keeping the scorching sun at bay.

“Oh please, feel free to address your complaints to the Grand Duke.”

Gale saw you first and offered a warm smile. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

You hugged yourself, forcing a smile. “I am well, thank you.”

Astarion turned his head to you, annoyance giving way to a sliver of concern. “Did you manage to get some rest?”

You nodded, your heart immediately reacting to his presence.

“Shall I brew some chamomile tea?” Gale offered eagerly, moving about the kitchen to gather the supplies.

“Thank you,” you said, glancing around. “Where is Shadowheart?”

“She headed out to the apothecary,” Gale said, placing the kettle by the fireplace. “She's keen on helping you out with these nightmares.”

Guilt hit you.

Of course she had.

Shadowheart had held your hand through so many perils, yet you couldn't help but to feel guilty that she was searching for help when the solution to your problem was right in front of you.

And he kept glaring at you, as if studying your every move.

A soft knock on the front door snapped you from your thoughts, and you went to push it open, revealing the visitor.

No.

No fucking way.

You immediately slammed the door shut, feeling rage swirl inside you.

“Who is it?” Gale asked.

“No one.”

Then your gaze met Astarion's whose eyebrow was arched in confusion.

“That is no way to treat a guest.” The woman outside chirped happily.

Ava.

Next chapter: Broken - November 26

Series Masterlist . I don't keep taglists, so feel to follow this story on Ao3 🩷

#astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion scenario #astarion x you #astarion x reader

1K notes · View notes

stevenose · 9 months

Text

☾₊ ⊹ reaching for the moon (18+)

pairing: steve x fem!reader with afab anatomy

contains: smut and a dumb amount of world building that was not necessary for this. set in 30s nyc, no hawkins. old money!steve; husband!steve; art historian!steve; not rich whatsoever!reader; they’re married your honor; steve’s parents (they’re the worst <3); slut shaming; allusions to bisexual steve; brief homophobia; soft!steve!!! he’s so damn soft!!!!; period typical everything lol

you might want to know: steve smokes and reader takes a drag; heated arguments which lead to some implied homophobia; reader wears an evening gown with a corset; car sex (info on said car here, for clarity sake)

author’s note: this is very heavily inspired by titanic 1997 (obviously) because it’s been rotting my brain. it’s very self indulgent but i’m hoping others like it!!

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s always the same. A party, an invitation in the mail, embossed with gold foil. Steve fuming because they could have walked over instead of paying for postage, or called him on the telephone. Each time both of you thinking it’ll be different, each time leaving with Steve’s wounded ego or anger levels at an all time high. You don’t know why you torture yourselves other than the fact that his mother will make a tremendous deal out of it when you don’t show up. She’s not above telling guests gossip of your marriage when you’re not around, just so it can get back to you and hurt you again.

Your issue lies with both of them. Steve’s issue lies with his father. Old, rich, stupid. Too well-known for being a lawyer for companies that should be shuttered and closed for violations and accidents. A union buster. And Steve’s biggest critic.

He never wants to hear about Steve’s studies or projects. His mind appears to me hyper-focused on Steve’s shortfalls - no military experience, no investments, married to a poor girl he met at a bar in Manhattan. Steve is everything his father detests, and vice verse.

To his credit, Steve tries, even when he doesn’t want to. He talks to his mother first while she stares at you like you’re venomous. She’s good at reeling in her disappointment. Steve’s her only child and you figure she doesn’t want to lose that. His father, on the other hand, is closer to Steve’s cousins - successors of big oil, engineers, military men.

You smile at her while Steve tells her about his recent trip to Florence, about the chapels and art. You’re wearing her diamonds around her neck. You know she wants to strike them from you. You’d say you clean up well, wearing one of the tens of dresses Steve’s purchased for you, custom made and tailored. Satin and lace and silk, only the finest. His mother thinks she can still smell alcohol and cigarette smoke on you. She detests your miserable background, how unladylike and uneducated you are, that you’ve worked where women shouldn’t and have done things she’d consider unforgivable sin.

“They’d mix pigments with egg -“

“Egg?”

“Right, yes, they called it tempura. And the pigments - Jesus, should’ve been there to see Giotto’s blue, so rich and -“

“Are you talking about those paintings again?”

Steve tenses and turns to face his father. Your face falls slightly.

“I am.”

“How much was that trip, anyway?” his father presses. He gives you a wink as if you’re in on the joke. “Certainly more than your engagement ring?”

You clench your fist within its satin glove. The gold, Art Deco band digs into your ring finger. Steve’s jaw tenses.

“Not a penny more,” he says cooly. He adjusts his suit coat. His adams apple bobs under the stark white collar of his shirt. “Not that it’d matter, right?”

And Steve’s now doing your favorite thing, where he’ll pretend he actually agrees with his parent’s ridiculous world views until they pick up on the sarcasm. Your eyes meet and the corner of your mouth lifts slightly, but you’re back to being stone faced a moment later.

“Of course not!” his father bellows, hitting Steve on the shoulder like he’s a long time friend and not his son. He looks at you now. For reasons unexplained, his father likes you. Probably for some perverted reason, you figure. “And how’d you fare without him at home?”

“Probably enjoyed company downtown,” his mother says.

“I did.” You look at Steve again, speaking to him with a language only you two understand. It’s okay. “Don’t worry. I hardly had ten glasses of beer.”

His father laughs loudly again, making guests crane their necks to look. His mother narrows her eyes at you but smiles curtly.

“How wonderful.”

“And you’re all right with him going off overseas?” his father presses. “To go look at crumbling paintings and enjoy boat rides in that dirty canal?”

“Not any dirtier than the city, I’m sure,” you say, now taking Steve’s arm in yours. His jaw is set. “Besides, I like hearing about what he’s seen.”

“Pity he couldn’t take you with him,” his father continues. “Surely there’s a reason for that?”

You tighten your grip on Steve to remind him to not talk. “I’d be too distracting, don’t you think?”

“Certainly,” his mother says.

“Not as distracting as your friends’ headlines, though,” Steve says suddenly. “I heard about your latest union bust. How many fatalities did the factory have? Ten? How noble of you to save them from equity.”

You bite your cheek and squeeze his arm again. His father’s mouth twists like he’s tasted something sour.

“Steven,” his mother lulls, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. It’s the only thing you both have in common, trying to keep him cool and calm. It never works.

“And who’d you hear it from if not me?” His father’s tone has shifted. It feels suffocating in the small circle you stand in. “Oh, those dirty men you fraternize with.”

His father’s preoccupation with dirty things is ironic.

“Did they accompany you to Italy as well?” He looks at you now, eyes boring into yours. “Did you happen to see the Statue of David? I heard Michelangelo had an interest in the bodies of men.”

You can feel the heat radiating off of Steve, the implication making him see red.

“Ah, of course, yet another thing you’d rather refuse to understand than empathize with.”

“We should -“

“I’d love to talk to you about sexuality, actually, father. How many half-brothers do I have again?”

His mother looks like she might faint, but his father smirks. It’s as if he lives for arguments with his son. Loves seeing how far he can push him, for no other reason but to be a bastard. It might be the only time he’s ever fond of Steve.

“We’ll get going,” you say weakly, tugging Steve along, and he’s happy as long as he has the last word. “Always a pleasure.”

“You’d know much about pleasure and vices, wouldn’t you?”

It’s the first time John Harrington has ever made a verbal slight towards you. You pause, just barely, and continue moving, but Steve whips around, eyes wild. “I’m sorry?”

His voice is rigid and loud. Guests crane their necks again but this time, they keep staring. You and his mother both grit out “Steve,” but he strides towards his father. You fear he might actually strike him, so you lunge forward, putting your arm between them.

“Surely something we have in common, then, Mr. Harrington.” You glance up at Steve, his jaw clenching and unclenching, face red. “Good night.”

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s cool outside. There are people on leisurely walks despite it nearly being so late. Steve’s still fuming beside you, toned arms flexing underneath his suit coat. He’s mumbling under his breath, then quickly whips around, heading back towards the door.

“I’m gonna-“

“Please,” you beg, grabbing onto his forearm. “Let’s leave it.”

“How?” he huffs. “How can I leave it? He was - he was - awful to you!”

“And he’s awful to you, too. What else is new?” You tug him, beckoning him with pleading eyes. “Follow me.”

He rolls his shoulders and tilts his head as he looks at you. He’s still fuming, nostrils flaring slightly, but all it takes is another little please? and he’s sighing, pulling out his cigarettes and a lighter as he follows you.

"The garage?” he asks, the white building coming into view. A billowing cloud of smoke follows. “What on earth do you want in there?”

You rip your gloves off and flex your fingers. “Indulge me.” You bump his hip with yours, trying to get him to smile.

Steve chuckles, easing up slightly, flicking the ash of his cigarette. "I don't know if committing vandalism is going to make me feel better this time."

“We aren’t vandalizing anything,” you promise. You reach for his hand and take a deep inhale of his tobacco. A needed stress reliever.

Steve seems a bit more giddy as you approach his father’s security detail. Steve’s known him since he was a boy. All he has to do is give a salute and a smile and you’re inside of the garage, door locked behind you, alone now with at least a dozen collectible cars and carriages.

"What do you have in mind, then?” he asks, leaning against the door. “Maybe we can use your heels to carve out some paint."

You step forward, taking the cigarette and throwing it on the ground before stomping it out with your shoe. You lean against him, hands pressed against his chest as you straighten his shirt. You’re looking at his neck as you speak. “Your father seems to think I’m somewhat of a whore.”

You don’t mean for him to get mad again, though it’s delicious when he is. “My father doesn’t have a clue -“

You interrupt, “So I reckon we make me one.”

His eyes widen, cheeks blooming red. "Oh?"

"Mmhm," you hum, and press your lips to his. He grabs you around the waist, fingers digging into your flesh, hidden by the satin and lace of your dress. Your lipstick smears as you move to the corner of his lips, then the stubble on his jaw, then up to the shell of his ear. "Pick a car and take me in it.”

“You - hold on,” he forces out, grip tight on you. “You aren’t a - a whore.” He says it like it’s scandalous, the worst word that could be uttered from his lips. It’s been thrown at him before, too. “You know that, right?”

You look up at him through your lashes. You can feel him starting to harden against your thigh. “Would it be such a bad thing if I was your whore?”

He swallows hard. “Do- do you want to be?”

You smile. “Pick a car before someone finds us.”

"Um." Steve forces his eyes open to look around. You begin unbuttoning his shirt while sucking a bruise into the delicate skin by his throat. He swallows hard. "Uh, the - the Renault.”

Your lips leave his neck so you can follow his gaze. You don’t know much about his father’s insane car collection, but you’ve always liked this one. Powder blue, gold accents. It’s like an upgraded horse and buggy, a large, enclosed carriage in the back with a bench for a driver at the front. It’s not very old, maybe twenty years, but it’s valuable and big and shiny and something his father prizes more than anything, including his own son.

“Plenty of leg room,” he explains sheepishly, and you smile, pulling him towards it. “Now, wait - wait - what’s the plan here?”

He’s so dense sometimes, but it’s because he wakes up everyday in disbelief that you’re laying next to him. The idea of undressing you and touching you seems so far fetched that many times he’s had to stop and think about it before engaging.

“The plan,” you say, swinging the door open and shoving him inside playfully, “is for you to have your way with me. And quickly, darling, we don’t have much time.”

Steve half-sits, half-lays down on the large bench, watching you as you duck inside and shut the door. He watches you with wide, adoring eyes as you climb on top of him, taking his hand gently. You pull it to your lips, kissing the pads of his fingers while he watches you intensely. When you look up at him, your stomach flips.

“My way with you,” he says evenly, “is to treat you like the angel you are.”

You smile and lay his hand gently on your chest. “Show me.”

His lips connect with yours softly. Despite the rush you’re both in, he still wants - needs - to take his time with you. He hikes your dress up as he kisses you, big hands caressing your thighs and ass. He sighs happily, pushing you down enough that you catch on the front of his dress pants, his cock pressing against your core. You gasp and giggle. “Excited?”

“As ever,” he promises.

You hold yourself up with a hand while the other struggles with the belt and buttons of his pants. He kisses down your neck, hot, open-mouthed. He latches on to a certain spot and you moan, breathing heavily into his hair.

“Need some help?” he murmurs, noticing your pause.

“Yes,” you breathe, eyes closing as he continues kissing along your exposed collarbone. You should be careful with your dress, taking it off and hanging it up, but Steve will just buy you another one. And another one. And another one. Anything your heart desires. Rich silk from Egypt, lace from Italy, hand embroidered and luscious against your skin. His life’s purpose seems to spoil you, as intended right now.

Steve finally frees himself, but you don’t have any time to stare. He’s quick to change places with you, laying you down on your back, pushing your dress and underskirt up. The material and color on your skin make him blush and growl lowly. The sliver of your corset that’s showing has him growing hard, too. They’re not always so comfortable for you, so you tend to wear them only on special occasions. And he’s keen on devouring you in only it after.

Neither of you are really expecting him to dive head-first between your legs, but you would never complain. His wet, warm tongue laves up your folds a few times before finally plunging in between them. You gasp and grab onto the seat, knuckles growing white. “Steve!” you cry, a hand curling into his hair, tugging on it.

“Worship you,” he mumbles into your skin, before forcing himself to pull back, chin slick. “I worship you.”

Your heart pounds. You’re at a loss. So lucky that you cannot possibly verbalize it.

Steve leans right back in, taking his sweet, non-existent time. “I- I hate to re-remind you, sweetheart,” you moan, fingers curling again, “but a-anyone could h-have! Have seen us com-coming in here.”

He hums, your back arching. He’s reluctant to pull away, but he finally does, coming back up to perch a knee on the seat below you. He’s quick to roll his sleeves up, muscled and toned forearms on view. Then he rubs his cock along your folds, both of you moaning. You tug at his shirt, now not so pristine, pulling him down to face you.

“Isn’t the idea to ruin the car?” he asks, smiling a little smug.

“Yes?”

“Then I’ve got to make a proper mess of you, don’t I?”

You burn. “You already have me melting.”

“Hmm. Let’s see what else I can do.”

When he pushes into you, it’s like the world stops. The only thing that matters is him above you. His hair tickling your forehead, eyes hazy and hooded, lip caught between his teeth. “Honey,” he groans, pulling a leg up over his hips to open you up, give him more access. His fingers dig into the fat of your thigh and he shivers at it. He always makes love like it’s the first time you’ve been together. Even during this quick romp, he’s taking his time, hearts in his eyes. “You’re incredible.”

“I love you,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his. He slides in a little further. You wince and he kisses you gently, fingers moving towards your clit to take your mind off of it.

“I love you,” he mumbles. “So. God. Damn. Much.”

He’s sheathed fully in you now, both of you panting, sweating. The car’s windows are fogged. You can’t keep your lips off of each other as he sets his pace, languid and long, filling you up so completely it numbs your mind. Each thrust makes you gasp. His whines are low, but slowly become more high-pitched as he thrusts into you.

“Give yourself to me,” you whisper. “All of you.”

He would never deny you that.

Hips picking up, his thrusts get harsher. He’s chasing your high and his. Chasing away the thoughts of his father and his mother, of work, of anything except you. You, his angel, his promise that not all things in the world are so bad. Not when you’re with him. And certainly not when you’re writhing under him, your dress pulled taught over your tits, your lipstick smudged, mascara running.

Over and over and over, the thinks, The Divine is real. The Divine is real.

Your eyes catch as he’s pulled away to look at you. He’s soft, despite his thrusts. “I love you,” he groans. “God, I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper, reaching for his face, cradling it. “My world.”

“My muse,” he moans, twitching within you, handsome face twisted in pleasure. His fingers work steadily on your clit and you reach up for your breasts, wishing desperately that you were wearing a nightgown instead. One that Steve likes, all pastel pink and blue, a ribbon of purple silk on the waist. It’s much less restricting and much more revealing. We can always continue at home, you think, your stomach tightening.

“You are….” you pant, eyes rolling back, leg tightening around his hips. “You are more th-than enough.”

His trusts slow. “As are you.”

“Sweet boy,” you laugh breathlessly, rolling your hips towards him. “Please keep going.”

“Oh!” he says, genuinely shocked, like he was truly so lost in your words that he forgot what he was doing. “S-sorry.”

“Just wa-want to show you how much I - how much I love you.”

“You show me,” he promises. “E-every. Day. And - and at these stupid p… oh, Christ - these parties.” His hips angle up towards your sweet spot and you’re gone, unable to hold back, brows marrying and face tightening in a lewd show of pleasure.

“Steve!” you moan, so loud you’re sure anyone walking by could hear. His hips move furiously and you have to reach up with your hand to steady yourself, making a handprint on the window. “Oh, my God!”

“Now it’s time to show you,” he groans, and his lips are back on yours. Half to consume you, overwhelmed with love and lust, and half to keep you quiet. You all but scream into his mouth, hand sliding off the window to clutch his shoulders while he works you into oblivion. “Close,” he chokes, a hand once again cradling your cheek. “With me now.”

You pant into each other as you cum, the car filled with sex and sweat and your crass noises. So unladylike, so perverse. You giggle mid-orgasm at the thought of his mother walking in on such a thing. A son raised as a level below royalty fucking his street-rat wife into a stupor, all in a thousand dollar car, would make her heart stop.

“What’s - so - funny?” Steve pants eventually, resting his head on your chest, his cock softening inside of you.

“Nothin’,” you promise, combing his hair with your fingers. “I love you.”

“Don’t leave me out,” he smiles.

You shake your head. “Tell you later. We should -“

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, pushing off of you and tucking himself back into his pants.

“You’re trembling,” you frown, reaching for him.

“I’m alright,” he promises, taking your hand and kissing it. “I’m happy.”

“So am I.”

He helps you fix yourself and slips your feet into your shoes for you, a kiss pressed into your knee. It turns into another, then another, and then his lips are creeping up your thigh.

“Stevie,” you whisper, the pet name making him blush. “Let’s finish at home.”

“Home,” he sighs dreamily. “Sounds wonderful.”

You’re proud of the stain left on the leather as you get up, your dress falling back down to your ankles. His father won’t check this car for weeks, if not months. You hope it’s fully ruined by then. But, for good measure, you let your heel scrape the paint on the way out.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #ns/fw #stevenose posts

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

Twisted Wonderland's Housewardens with a GN!Saiki!s/o; reacting to the news that they're a psychic.

Riddle Rosehearts

Even though he would prefer to be isolated from others, he is sad that you don’t accept anyone as your friend, much less your significant other. This is when you use your telepathy to tell him that you can read minds. He is very embarrassed, so please let him know that you return his feelings.

He understands your sweet tooth, as he has one himself. He will try and get Trey to teach him how to make coffee jelly so that you don’t have to keep buying it from Sam’s shop. The effort was heartwarming, and really piqued your interest.

You both can talk to the hedgehogs and flamingos in different ways; he knows their language and you can speak with them telepathically. The flamboyance and the array all love you (much to your slight annoyance), and you have to admit that they are adorable. Whenever Riddle sees you interact with the animals, he just gets a warm feeling in his chest.

Leona Kingscholar

Sarcasm at its finest. You both like to be alone, so you tend to be alone together. Whenever he’s asleep, you can see his dreams, and a lot of them are about you. This fact does make you blush just a tiny bit, but you never tell him that you can until much later in your relationship.

He does not understand your sweet tooth, but he will have Reggie supply you with some coffee jelly. Leona prefers more savory foods like meat, so he will find it annoying whenever you do anything for your beloved treat. He swears you love it more than him, and it’s probably true.

You have the ability to talk to him telepathically, so you both don’t even have to be near each other. You can hear his thoughts, and you can speak to him through his mind. It’s actually very convenient for the two of you, as you don't have to look for each other or make the effort of texting each other.

Azul Ashengrotto

Oh, please don’t tell him that you can read his mind. Other than being concerned with matters consisting of his multitude of contracts, the tweels, and the Mostro Lounge, 95% of his thoughts are about you. Mans would grow more red than Riddle’s hair if you informed him that you were psychic.

His favorite dish is fried chicken (can’t blame him), so he has a preference towards savory foods. However, sometimes he wants something sweet. That’s where you come in and convince him to add coffee jelly to the Lounge’s menu so that you can enjoy it freshly made.

You have the ability to talk to the fish in the tank, as does Azul. It’s very intriguing for you to hear them speak, since you made it so that the cecaelia could actually hear the marine life saying words. A few of them were angry that other fishes did something, so there were a lot of curses.

Kalim Al-Asim

I feel like he would be the kind to have his head empty, which makes you panic because you can’t read his mind. However, you can tell that he’s very genuine in his joy (alliteration goes crazy sometimes). If you told him that you were psychic, he probably didn’t understand what that was.

He likes coconut, right? He likes sweeter things, if I’m correct. That being said, he can’t blame you when you get a sweet tooth. He is probably your main source of coffee jelly, since he would order some just for you. He tried it once and didn’t really like it, but you love it and he loves you.

If you talk to Jamil, you’re already talking to a snake (/j, but not really). Anyways, you can talk to any of the animals that Kalim gets on a whim, and they’re all annoyed that the young Asim doesn’t know when not to spend money on impulse. Honestly, all of those animals are just a mood.

Vil Schoenheit

His mind never turns off. He’s always thinking about something, and it honestly gives you a headache. As the two of you often sit with each other to squeeze in time to be a semi-normal couple. You can tell that sometimes he’s not present because he’s planning his day through. You often have to tell him to slow his mind.

If I remember correctly, he likes smoothies. You like coffee jelly. Vil knows that it’s not the healthiest, so he tries to offer you a deal: you both can enjoy it once a month so that you can think of it as more of a reward than a treat. He is aware that you can off him with a single thought, but he doesn’t care.

You like to brighten up his day by talking to him telepathically whenever he’s too busy. It’s a bit out of character for you, but you know that it makes him feel a bit better. Knowing that you support him even from far away is comforting for him.

Idia Shroud

Please don’t tell him you can read his mind, Part 2. Mans would panic. Like Azul, his mind is constantly thinking about you, and maybe a new anime he watched or a new video game he played. His hair along with his face grows bright red when you tell him that you are psychic.

Idia likes candy, so he completely understands your little (huge) sweet tooth. Whenever you tell him telepathically that you are coming over, he makes sure that he has coffee jelly on hand so that you continue to like him (he’s insecure, so he uses your love of food to his advantage).

You often like to spook him by just using your telepathy to tell him something, especially when he’s out for a club meeting. The cecaelia he likes to play board games with is often confused when he sees the eldest Shroud brother jump because you scared him.

Malleus Draconia

He thinks your powers are amazing. What’s amusing to him is how you constantly fight with Sebek because you were a very sarcastic (borderline rude) person. Malleus often had to calm his knight down after every single fight you both had, but the prince couldn’t help a small smile that appeared on his face.

Malleus enjoys ice cream, but he wouldn’t mind trying his beloved’s favorite dessert. He doesn’t dislike it, but he prefers to stick to his favorite. However, don’t be surprised if you see an elegantly wrapped package of coffee jelly at the front door of your dormitory, signed M.D.

Whenever you decide to use your telepathy, it’s usually when he gives you a sign that he can’t get away from his retainers. You both have full-blown conversations with each other and neither Lilia, Silver, nor Sebek notice because his face would be great in poker.

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minispidey · 8 months

Text

The Duke and The Wildflower.

Leto Ateides x f!reader.

Miniseries Masterlist.

Likes, reblogs and insight are appreciated!

I. The Pride of The Songbird.

3k words

In a nutshell: Leto Atreides and the heiress of the Alaak house vineyard get infatuated with each other, despite hating each other, starting a secret affair.

Warnings: not beta read, some wrong grammar here and there, angry library seggs, insults, reader calls leto a rat, doesn't use y/n yet, mention of blood.

(House Alaak an original house by yours truly which literally means Alcohol and is in another planet, idk I'll make one up 🤸‍♀️ I didn't really understand dune or the lore, lmk your thoughts!!)

Special thanks to @ominoose 💅

MINORS DNI

Leto Atreides walks around the humble abode of the House Alaak, the place filled with too much gold that it's caused an eyesore for him. After a disagreement on the one thing House Alaak was known for– wine, Leto tries to clear his mind and tried not to burst into anger or else it'll lose all hope to have multiple bottles of their finest wine in his planet.

His furrowed brows softened when he suddenly hears a melody from one of the rooms. Leto scanned the halls, making sure no one sees him as he enters the mysterious room. A beautiful voice filled the room– it was a library. Bookshelves as tall as the walls. For the first time in his life, he felt intimidated by the heights of those shelves and the amount of books they have.

Leto's gaze flickers towards the source of the enchanting voice, his brows furrowing in confusion. The melody that dances through the air captures his attention, momentarily distracting him from his brooding thoughts. As the voice weaves its way through the library, Leto finds himself drawn to the hidden figure behind the shelves, intrigued by the mystery that shrouds their identity. He's captivated by the enchanting song and the delicate figure that moves gracefully among the books.

The song he heard ended and he let out a small sigh before pacing back and fourth to think of a new tactic to convince the Duke Alaak to agree to the arrangement.

"Oh my. It seems as a rat has snuck in once again." The same voice was laced with sarcasm, clearly sensing his presence.

"To whom do I owe the pleasure of this enchanting melody?" he questions, his tone slightly softer than before, yet still tinged with his underlying bitterness due to the earlier matter.

"I'm the heiress of house Alaak. And you are...?"

Leto's gaze narrows as he listens to the response, his curiosity piqued. His eyes fixed on your hidden figure as you move gracefully among the shelves of books, only by the long fabric of your dress could he tell and from the small gaps of the shelves. The mention of your role as an heiress catches him off guard, momentarily silencing his biting retorts. You were the daughter of the Duke Alaak.

"I am Leto Atreides." he responds, his voice tinged with a mix of weariness and bitterness. "Your father and I had our disagreements, and yet here we stand. Perhaps you could convince him to agree to it." he joked.

"My father is an arrogant man. Never could admit he's wrong."

"Then what do you think I should do?"

"Make him feel superior to you. Works for me all the time." you said, taking out another book and taking a peek at him through the gap "Ah, so I was right. Duke Atreides. We've never met, your grace."

"A pleasure to meet you. Do you have a name?"

"What lady does not have a name?" He heard you scoff "I do not give my name out so easily, your grace." You said.

"Lady Alaak it is."

As he watches, you emerge from behind the shelves, gracefully picking up books scattered on the ground. His gaze lingers on your form for a moment, momentarily distracted by your presence.

Your chiffon dress made it look like you were light as a feather, walking on water. Your eyes pierced right through him, as if you knew of his deepest desires and secrets.

You scoffed "Do not call me by my family name."

"My lady it is." Leto smiles a bit. He felt infatuated by this woman in front of him.

"What made my father disagree with your proposal, your grace?"

"The amount of wine we plan to take. Finest wine of all the lands indeed."

"How much?"

"How many? We plan to take a thousand, let most of them age-"

"No." You turned to look at him "How much? What are you willing to exchange for a thousand of our wine."

Leto fell silent. He then clears his throat "Classified, my lady."

"Alright then. Do not tell me." You took your stack of books and placed them on the table.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because if it isn't enough, then my father declined your offer for that reason. It could be anything shiny and beautiful, he would gladly accept it. My father lives for the material."

"What material should I offer then?"

"Flowers." You said with no hesitation "Or it could be gold. But plants are his favorites, he loved his garden more than my mother." You shrugged "Cannot blame him. She tried to kill him."

The corner of Leto's lips slightly curved, amused by how forward she is "A garden?"

"Would you like to see?"

Leto follows you outside of the library, leading him through the large halls. You knocked on a dead end wall using a specific pattern before the wall slides open, revealing a brightly lit room filled with plants and grass.

A large tree sat in the very middle, surrounded by multiple flowers and vines.

"My father traded wine for seeds from others. He would fill this room with all kinds of flowers. He would plant rare flowers to bloom here. Watch your step. Don't step on the grass." You said as you stepped on the cobblestone, walking around the grass.

"A rare beauty..." but when he said this, he was looking at you. You just didn't notice as your delicate hands touched the flower petals. He really should be looking at all the greenery and the small pond with koi fish swimming around.

"What do you think about our planet so far?"

"It's lovely." no hesitation. But he kept staring at you.

"I have not been in Arrakis. Is it as beautiful as they say?"

"Why don't you and your father visit? You're welcome to Arrakis."

You turn to him, nodding "I shall talk to my father about it. But no promises."

"That's good enough for me."

Leto observes your disdainful expression, your words dripping with skepticism and reluctance. He can sense the deep-seated resentment she holds towards him, but the reasons behind it remain elusive. His brow furrows in confusion, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and frustration.

"I understand." he repeats, his voice laced with a touch of genuine concern. "But may I ask why you sound as if you despise me?"

Leto's gaze lingers on you, his eyes searching for any clue that might shed light on your animosity towards him. He remains composed, waiting for your response, all the while grappling with the intricate web of emotions swirling within him.

"It seems... rude of you to request such amounts of wine from us. Wine takes time and the older the wine is, the finer. I do hope you know whatever you're offering in exchange of them is merely a bit of what they're worth." You said as a matter of fact. Your family owned the largest vineyard to have existed. Production of your fine wine is slow to ensure it's quality as it ages.

A thousand is too much.

Leto's expression softens as he listened to your words, understanding the value you placed on the family vineyard and the significance of aging wine. He nods solemnly, acknowledging the validity of your concerns.

"You are right, my lady," he admits, his voice filled with sincerity "I may have underestimated the worth and significance of the wine from your family vineyard. I apologize for my ignorance and any offense I may have caused."

Leto takes a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze fixed on you "I assure you, I am committed to finding a fair and equitable solution. I am willing to compensate your father accordingly, not just with material resources, but with respect and understanding. We can work together to ensure that both sides are satisfied in this arrangement."

"Your offer is too low." You bluntly stated "You're such a privileged snob."

Leto's jaw tightens as you said that, your words laced with disdain and mockery. The flicker of determination in his eyes fades, replaced by a flash of anger. He took a deep breath, attempting to maintain his composure despite the rising frustration within him.

"Privileged snob, you say?" he retorts, his voice dripping with controlled anger. "You know nothing of how the world works. How our trading works."

"Oh I know exactly how it works. Give some and take some more." You laughed "That's how Atreideses always do it."

Leto's tone grows sharper as he continues, his voice laced with a hint of bitterness "It seems you are quick to judge and belittle without truly understanding the circumstances. Perhaps it is you who lacks the empathy and understanding to see beyond your own perspective."

"It's wine! It takes fucking time!" You finally snapped, hitting the tree trunk "And what? In less than a year, you would have drank them all, crawling back here for more. Have some fucking empathy for our workers you piece of shit!"

"Your hand-"

"What the fuck about my hand!" You looked at the palm of your hand before turning it, your knuckles bleeding.

"Oh. I see." You rushed over to the fountain, putting your hand under the running water. Leto follows you "Let me help you." He took out a handkerchief, holding it out.

You hesitated, looking at it. It was... nice for him to do that. But your pride took over you.

"I'm alright. I don't need your help." You hissed at the sting of the water against your wound.

"Please, my lady. Let me help you-"

"I can do this myself!" You pushed his hand away, hearing something drop into the fountain "What was that?"

"Oh." Leto looks at his own hand "My ring."

"Your ring? The-" you took a deep breath in "The Atreides ring? And you act as if... never mind."

You slip off your shoes, jumping into the deep fountain before Leto could even object.

You swam down, patting the ground, trying to feel for his ring. You held your breath in as long as you could before finally finding it. You quickly rose back, breathing out.

Wiping your face, you noticed that Leto was nowhere to be seen. But you did notice the handkerchief just sitting there.

You let out a sigh before getting out of the fountain, your dress heavy from the water soaked in.

What now? You asked yourself.

You were sure this isn't going to be the last time you see each other.

That night, your mind was clouded with thoughts of Leto. You find yourself wanting to be near him again. Argue? Talk? It didn't matter. Maybe you were intrigued by him.

The smell of his handkerchief was intoxicating, his same scent. You lie in bed, confused. You've never felt this way before.

It was infatuation.

But it was a man you hated? What about him made you feel this way?

His eyes...

Your father always told you that the eyes are the key to the soul. You've always judged people by their eyes. You've never liked someone's eyes before Leto.

Leto on the other hand was the same. He's never felt this way before. He wanted to hold your hand... he wanted to know your name. Your voice practically lured him in, as arrogant as you were, you were ethereal.

For once, he didn't care about the ring. But it was a good excuse to come back. To see you again.

Weeks passed since your encounter. You secretly wished Leto would visit again, but what will you say? Argue, of course. It wasn't until you hear a voice from inside the meeting room when you stopped. You peeked and saw Leto, pacing back and forth.

"You again?" You swung the door open.

"My lady." Leto looks at you, bowing his head.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have other people's lives to ruin?"

"I apologize for disappointing you, my lady, but no."

"What a shame." You walked into the meeting room, shutting the door behind you "I assume that you revised your proposal?"

"Yes."

"Let me hear it then."

"I'll buy half of your vineyard."

Your eyes widened, stomping over to him "You wouldn't dare. That's our family's legacy."

"Oh but I plan to, my lady. After all, I empathize with the workers on the vineyard. I'll have my own men help with production to make a thousand bottles of wine."

Last time's remark bit you back. You head-butted him "My father will not allow it."

"He will."

"And why's that?"

"Because he will have the House Atreides to help him. After all, I am Duke of a major house."

"Just because I'm part of a minor house does not mean we don't have pride. My father would never."

"He will." he whispers, looking deep into your eyes. Leto felt a spark between you two, even you felt it. You felt your face heat up upon seeing how close your faces were to each other.

"You will only anger my father. Don't even think about it." You said as you cleared your throat, walking away from the meeting room.

"Why would he?"

"My father is a prideful man. Make him feel superior. I told you, just give him gold or flowers and he'll soften up or whatever."

He follows you to the library, the doors shutting "Is he or have you been telling him lies about me?"

"I beg your pardon?" I stopped, looking back at him.

"You heard me. This is an old tactic. I've experienced this many times but I get my way."

"Too bad. Better luck next time, you privileged snob-!" Leto marched towards you, staring down at you. His gloved hand raised one finger "Stop calling me that."

"Or what?"

"Or else I'd give into my urges."

"Excuse me?"

"You bewitched me." he stares at you "Last time I saw you, you had this... this effect. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Your eyebrows softened "What?"

"I hate it... I hate you..."

"I hate you as well, your grace."

There was too much tension between the both of you. And the fact you two were so close to each other made it hard to resist the urges. You stood on your toes, capturing his lips. Leto didn't waste time kissing you back. You were incredible.

Leto grabs your hand and leads you to a sturdy table in the center of the library. He shoves aside the books and papers, making room. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as he gazes at you, his eyes filled with a hunger that's impossible to ignore.

Leto practically slammed you on the table, his hands gripping your hips firmly. His voice is low and commanding, laced with a hint of dominance "I hate you." he hissed, his voice sending shivers down your spine "I hate you more." you glared at him.

You two locked lips messily again, wrapping your arms around each other. His hands ran up your thighs, his touch firm yet gentle "How dare you bewitch me." he murmurs against your lips "And this table is about to become witness to the most unforgettable experience." he fiddled with his pants, unbuckling his belt as you hike up your skirt, the delicate fabric slowly ripping with your impatient pace.

With a swift motion, Leto enters you, his hardness filling you completely. Your body arched back, feeling his large cock. He sets a rhythm that is both powerful and intoxicating, his thrusts hitting all the right spots. The sound of skin against skin echoes through the library, intermingling with the hushed silence.

Leto's voice becomes a mix of praise and raw desire as he guides you through the pleasure "I hate you..." he groans, his voice filled with need "Taking you like this, over a table, I'd have to say it's extremely erotic." his hands grip your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he increases the tempo, driving you both towards the edge.

"Fuck you..." you moaned out "I despise you, you old fuck..." you wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning into his ear.

As the sensations overwhelm you, pleasure courses through your body, building to an explosive climax. Leto's voice fills the air, a mix of urgency and satisfaction "Let go for me." he urges, his voice filled with a commanding tone "Let the ecstasy consume you. Give in to the pleasure."

"I hate you with a burning passion, your grace. I fucking hate you— oh, fuck..." And in that moment, the world around you fades away as you both succumb to the intense release. Your bodies tremble with pleasure, your moans mingling with the sound of the table creaking beneath you. Leto holds you close, his breath heavy against your skin, his touch gentle and comforting.

"I hate you..." you breathed out, refusing to admit you enjoyed it. The pleasure of it all. Leto presses a tender kiss to your lips, his eyes filled with a mixture of affection and admiration "I think I like you." he whispers, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

With a playful smirk, he adds, "I have a feeling the library won't be the same after our little escapade." you both begin to tidy up, leaving the library with a shared secret that will forever ignite your desires.

"My father can't know about this."

"He won't. Just change your dress." Leto looks at the rips of your chiffon dress.

"Right."

It was the first, but certainly not the last time you disgrace the library.

#dune #leto atreides x reader #duke leto atreides #leto atreides smut #oscar isaac #dune smut #the duke and the wildflower

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pininghermit · 10 months

Text

Bane of My Existence

Pairing: Alucard x Fem Dom Reader

Warning: Minors DNI (seriously don't). Pegging and other good stuff. Reader with a cunt and Alucard with a dick.

Summary: Dressed in the colors of your kingdom, wearing the jewels provided by you Alucard looks ravishing even with the murderous glint in his eyes.

Word count: 2.5k

AN: I have no shame anymore. Could it be nastier...yes but idk how to. Also please ignore if there are any stupid errors (unless its really bad). I have written this in a moment of hyper fixation.

“Rather than moping alone with this ruin, I would recommend that you find something better to do,” Alucard glares at you from where he lies on the ground. Perched on the only surviving piece of furniture you do not avoid his withering gaze.

Instead, you stare right back. “Lying here in filth as you wait for death tsk tsk…,” the dismissal in your voice enrages Alucard. “What do mortals call it…yeah meaning of life. Why don’t you look for that? I mean you already did your heroic quests but what now?” Dressed in the finest silk and invaluable gems you look out of place.

“Maybe a heartwarming friendship or must I say romance,” Alucard flinches at the mention of both. Dusting your hands you stand from your place. And for once Aculard regrets not having his sword on him. “If not all that then,” you crouch next to him and your fingers brush against his chin, tilting his neck to look right into your eyes, “why not accept my proposal? I am still very smitten with you and very willing to offer all that I did a year ago,” a mischievous smile plays on your lips.

The touch of your fingers burns Aculard’s skin with a sensation he feels after months. The touch of another leaves him wanting more. Barely resisting the urge to lean into your touch Alucard stares by defiantly.

“My subjects would still welcome you. Our betrothal still stands unbroken after all and I am nothing if not understanding for a fiance who was cheated on,” you do not care to spare him from the burns of his past. You never have. Maybe that is why even now it is hard to sense any deception from you. Alucard never visited your kingdom. Your betrothal to him had been a thing of the past. A bond forged for petty alliances.

“The ones who betrothed us are long gone. So are the ones you claim to be my lovers. What exactly is your aim here? Why are you here y/n? Have you run out of things to do in your kingdom?” Your bond was formed in the teenage years of Alucard’s life. A bond that promised him the only position of the consort, next to you. Somehow in all that went by Alucard forgot about it.

You look at Alucard with a mix of amusement and intrigue, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, my dear Alucard, you underestimate my motivations," you say, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "I didn't come here out of boredom or a lack of things to do. I came here for you."

Alucard's brows furrow as he tries to make sense of your words. "For me? But why?" he asks, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of skepticism. “What scheme are you up to now? And why now? Where were you when I needed you?”

You lean back, still maintaining your captivating gaze. Undaunted by Alucard’s accusations you continue, “My absence from your life has been a part of my duty as a ruler. I simply could not drag my people into your father’s mess. It wouldn’t be a great look if I got my people killed by my father-in-law or my fiance,” you shrug dismissively.

“So I am here now. Offering you what my father promised. A place by my side and my people. You have proven yourself worthy of it. Wealth, power, love, praise, I offer everything and if must you insist then also my deepest apologies.” Aclucard pushes away your hand as silence prevails over the room after your declaration.

There's a hint of sadness in your eyes, but you quickly mask it with a dismissive smirk. "Your loss, Alucard," you say, rising to your feet and straightening your attire. "I offered you a chance at something extraordinary, something that you could have had. But if you prefer to remain in this pitiful state, then so be it."

As you turn to leave, Alucard's voice cuts through the air, “Fine then, prepare everything you can,” standing up Alucard faces you with a cutting look in his eyes. “This proposal that you are so proud of, I accept it. So be ready to bear the consequences of offering beyond your reach,” leaning in Alucard’s eyes glimmer with a crazed look that matches your own. Both twisted with a sick fascination. “I might just find meaning in becoming the bane of your existence.”

This is how Alucard finds himself in your royal chambers. Dressed in dainty silks that you prefer. Ladden with jewels that bear your insignia. His usually flowing hair braided into the intricate style of the royal consort. All covered by the insanely long veil he was made to wear the entire ceremony.

It had been hours since he had been thrusted into the wedding chambers. The sweet coying smell of wine and roses surrounds Alucard as he awaits you. Tired of waiting Alucard rips away the annoying veil and fills himself a glass of wine.

“My, my, indulging ourselves self a little too much aren’t we,” your breath falls on the column of Alucard’s neck just as he was about to sip the wine from his glass. Yet, moments later you find a dagger digging at the exposed skin of your neck. “Ai, and here I thought consummation would be the easier part,” you reply without a care in the world.

Dressed in the colors of your kingdom, wearing the jewels provided by you Alucard looks ravishing even with the murderous glint in his eyes. Unfettered by the dagger pressing close to your neck your arms circle Alucard’s waist, pulling him closer.

Alucard flinches as the tip of his dagger nicks your neck. “Dearest consort feel free to kill me if you can manage all the paperwork of this forsaken palace. Although I will say I have been slacking off the past few days so you might have to work a little harder.” Despite your light-hearted words, Adrian finds it hard to breathe.

A clang of metal reverberates in the room as he lets go of the dagger in his grasp. Instead, Adrian’s arms circle your neck. Leaning in closer to him your lips remain a hair’s width away as you whisper, “I would have loved to take off your veil but what an injustice would it be to hide you any longer Adrian,” the dhampir’s breath hitches at the mention of his name from your lips. His true name.

Your lips meet his and they are soft. Adrian’s body heats up at every point of contact as your arms pull him closer. Your lips, hungry fight his own as your teeth nip at his lower lip. Your tongue ventures into his mouth exploring every part of him with unparalleled haste.

There is a wild look in your eyes when you pull away and Adrian would have almost collapsed if not for your hands that hold him steady.

Adrian feels the cool of night cling to his skin, as you rip open the ceremonial gowns with a care in the world. Peeling off the layers in careless motions. Before Adrian can voice his discontent at your intact gown, or notice the scars of his own past you pull him into the bed.

Adrian plops down on the plush bed, “Shh,” your finger stops the complaints forming on his lips. “Only words I want to hear from you are the moans of my name and of course and warning of discomfort,” you pluck away all the hairpins that hold Adrian’s hair back. Your own hair falls down like a majestic waterfall. Shielding him from the outside world.

And then in quick motions, you discard your robes in a messy pile beside your bed. Adrian finds his eyes wandering on the planes of your body as yours do on his. “You’ll be in this bed much longer than anticipated husband,” your voice sounds huskier as your hands travel Adrian’s torso. “Maybe I should just keep you here, always ready for me.” your dilated pupils stare back at Adrian.

But it isn’t fear that fills Adrian even at your crazed words. No…it’s something completely different. Something that makes him want to be here for you. Waiting for you to take him at any passing moment of the day. Waiting for you to drill him into your wedding bed as he screams your name. The name only he is allowed to utter in the entire kingdom.

You lean back in to kiss Adrian, who meets your kiss with equal enthusiasm. And Adrian’s legs part to accommodate your knee. His pleasure, visible from the eager red erection that springs to life.

Adrian groans when your knee rubs against his dick. A thrum of pleasure goes through him at barest friction. Your lips trail down leaving a map of hickies down his throat. Your fangs tug at his skin teasing it and nipping it mercilessly.

Your hands rest on each side of his waist. Holding him from humping onto your knee like a bitch in heat. “Ahh…ugn please,” Adrian finds himself begging you in the very first minutes. He cannot bring himself to care. He truly does not care enough to put appearances for you. But do not allow him. Your hands hold him as your mouth continues traveling down.

For all your chatter, you remain quiet in bed. Only amused chuckles and clever remarks that put dirty scenarios in his mind grace Adrian. Your hands travel up gripping his chest as your fingers toy with his nipples. “Should we peirce them?” Your nails dig into his sensitive nubs. “Tell me Adrian would you like that? Tight clamps, chains all that would leave your pretty little nipples this beautiful red? So sensitive that even a touch would leave you a moaning mess? Cover you with all the jewels and delicate gold chains like a prized trophy. A pretty present only for the monarch. And then fuck you so good that it leaves you in a mess of jewels and your own cum forever wanting more,” as if on cue your knee rubs on his dick, and Adrian’s eyes cloud.

“Maybe I could dress you in those see-through silks, that all this would be out for everyone to see. For all our subjects to know how much their beloved consort enjoys playing with his nipples,” your mouth bites his nipple and Adrian arches into you. “y/n please,” he rubs into you. Your words ringing in his mind. Your teeth roll his nub as he continues rutting on your knee. Your tongue sucks his nipple and Adrian’s mind blanks as he comes shooting cum all over you and his own belly.

However, your knee continues rubbing his dick that stands back up as if it hadn’t just…”Good job husband,” your voice sounds distant. “Ummph,” oversensitivity wrecks Adrian’s body but he cannot bring himself to pull away from your onslaught.

He obediently opens his mouth to welcome your fingers that taste of himself. He rolls his tongue sucking your fingers taking in his own cum. It doesn’t last long before your fingers pop from his mouth and Adrian whines at the emptiness.

He is too far gone to notice a slight shuffle as you pluck a small clear bottle from the nightstand. But he feels it when your fingers circle his rim. His mouth falls open when the first tip breaches open his entrance.

Working his muscles you take your time. He feels the lube running down his hole. Trickling in as you work him open. From one to two, your fingers scissor him open. And Adrian finds himself meeting the rhythm of your fingers. “Haah, y/n,” he calls for you and you reply with an endearing kiss on his lips as your fingers keep him open.

“Patience consort,” and then he feels it. The tip of your strap on entering him. Cold compared to the rest of your body. “Please,” Adrian widens his legs as you enter him inch by inch until he feels too full. Wrapping his arms around your neck and his legs around your torso Adrian rocks back into you as you ram into him.

The pressure of his own movements leaving a sweet pressure on your cunt. Sweat, lube, cum all cover you both as you drive the dildo into Adrian’s hole. Moans, groans, and pants fill the room.

Adrian’s dick quivers with pleasure as it stays trapped between the both of you. Each movement rubbing it towards another orgasm. You kiss Adrian as pleasure builds inside you from the friction of the strap-on and Adrian’s hurried movements.

The tip of the dildo hits his prostate as Adrian comes with you. Both your juices mingle on the wedding bed. “Told you consummation was the easier part,” your words earn you a swat from your consort.

Maybe some need love to live, but for Adrian being the bane of your existence is enough.

#alucard #alucard x reader #castlevania #adrian tepes #adrian tepes x reader #bottom alucard #top reader #sub alucard #hermit mourns her innocence #enemies to lovers #enemies to spouses??

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