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winterarmyy · 25 days

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Baby, Fever & Cuddles

Glimpses of the grumpy chubby alpha!bucky's love life.

Summary: When Y/N unexpectedly cancelled their date plan, Bucky’s troubled mind seemed to jump right into the worst case scenario, but the reality was not quite what he thought.

Note: This is a part of 《 And You're Mine 》 AU.

Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader

Words: 3.5k++

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics. fluffy and soft feels with our chubby!alpha!bucky.

P/S: My writing is quite rusty after months of not utilizing it, so forgive me for that. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this short fic and happy reading! 🤍

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Bucky has been staring, or more accurately, glaring at the reflection of himself for far too long now. Completely distracted with the image on the mirror, he did not notice how his well-made bed is now crowded with piles of his clothing items.

Hoodies, jeans, dress-shirts and even the dinner suit that he got last year; they were all mixed up in an untamed way. He might need a couple of hours to re-organize those but it does not matter right now.

What matters is what should he wear for his second date with y/n? So far everything he tried on was either too fancy or too tacky. “For fuck’s sake, it’s just a coffee date. Just pick one and go, Jesus.” Bucky’s inner Alpha has been nagging him to get this over with, because he’s going to be late to the date, especially if he plans to pick-up a bouquet for her.

Now standing in his red Henley, which he deemed was appropriate, he could not look past the soft bulge on his stomach. The bright colour of the fabric did nothing to hide the unflattering shape of his belly. He twisted his body to the side and unintentionally grimaced at the sight.

Bucky instinctively sucked in a deep breath, trying to hide the extra fat of his body; giving a glance of the shadow of his past self when he was but a man with a well-built body.

Bucky sighed out the breath that held, and his belly naturally morphed into the original shape. He really can’t hide his imperfections; not his belly nor his prosthetic arm. As he stares at the source of his insecurities, he remembered the night of his first date with her;

"Because Bucky, you are as lovable as a person can be." She placed his palm on either side of her cheeks, purring as the sensation on skin felt so right, "And I am absolutely honoured and proud to be standing here with an alpha like you." She smiled like she was the happiest omega on earth.

His cheeks heats into shades of red and pink as the memories remind him of her; the softness of her skin against his palms, that cute little purr she made and her sweet scent that he was already addicted to.

Before the blood managed to rush further down to his spine, he shook off the unholy thoughts produced by inner alpha. Bucky glanced at the mess on his bed from the reflection of the mirror and let out a sigh before glaring at himself, “What are you so afraid of?”.

Now that he was standing in front of her apartment, Bucky suddenly remembered why.

His heart pounds, his palms were sweating within his leather gloves, his fingers fiddled with the delicate material of the bouquet wrappings. The second date is different compared to the first; there’s more expectation, which means there might be more disappointment awaits.

Not that he would be displeased with y/n but he is afraid that she will be with him. A few sweet words that she spoke on their first date might work to calm him down at the moment, but it is not enough to make his years worth of insecurity disappear completely.

Bucky gulped nervously as he lifted his hand towards the door; he knew that he was quite early from the promised time, but he couldn’t help it. As much as he is afraid of what will come, he was as excited to see her again. She had been occupying his mind like no other; he misses her. A lot.

When he was about to knock on the door, his phone rang. Slipping it out of his pocket, his phone almost fell from his hands, when he read the name on the caller’s placeholder. Y/N. He took a deep breath and slid the icon across the screen, “Hello. Hi” Bucky’s tongue was already tied with just two words out.

“Hi, Bucky.” she greeted with softly. That alone was enough make his heart skipped a beat. “Hi, y/n.” Bucky could not control the dreamy undertone in his voice, if only she could see the soft haze in his gaze, “What’s up?”

“Really, Bucky? ‘What’s up’?” he mentally scolded himself for this choice of words. A brief silence followed his question. “Was that… hesitation?” a thought popped at the back of his head. “Ummm, listen, Bucky…” her voice dripped with uncertainty.

Bucky’s fist around the stem of the bouquet got a little tighter when she continued, “..I’m sorry. But, I think we should cancel our plans today. Umm, some, uh, something came up and I think I can’t make it...” Her cryptic reasons were just a buzzing sound in his ear now.

What was he expecting? That this time it’ll be different? He’s finally gonna have the happy ending he deserves? No. Of course, not.

“What was I thinking?” Bucky’s head slightly lean forward as he try to recollect himself, “I understand.” He replied. y/n quickly apologised for her sudden decision but Bucky was not really listening.

He was just trying to clear out the dark clouds in head by leaning his head to the apartment door. But when his hand was trying to support his weight against the wall, he accidentally pressed the doorbell.

“Shit!” he cursed under his breath. Panic arose when y/n asked if he could hold for a minute while she get the door. “No wait! y/n don--”, a few milliseconds later, the door was wide open, revealing the omega who's been occupying his mind for weeks.

“Bucky?” Her eyes widened; shocked at first but morphed into a pleasant smile. “You’re here?” she was awfully in glee to see the alpha, especially when she saw the pretty bouquet of carnations in his hand. But the joy only lasted for a short moment, until she realised, “Don’t tell me you were already here when I called you…” a soft gasp came from the smaller, her eyes glistening with guilt.

Bucky thought that there’s no way to go about this other than telling the truth, “Yeah. I’m sure you have a good reason to cancel our date. And since you’re here, umm, here.” hands trembling, he extended the bouquet towards her, his gruff exterior softened by the shy smile on his lips, “….for you.”

y/n’s cheeks flushed with delight as she accepted the flowers, “Awww, Bucky.” She held the soft petals towards her face, inhaling the spicy clove-y scent. Reminded by the time she first met him, the corners of her lips curled upwards into a tender smile before looking up at him with a sparkle of alluring mischief in her gaze.

In that split second, something was triggered at the back of Bucky’s mind. It seemed like he had seen this view before. In fact, it is almost identical. Including this very moment, when she tiptoed upwards, her tender gesture of cupping one side his chubby cheek and her soft lips pressed on the other, "Thank you for the flowers, alpha." She whispered against his skin.

When the omega looked up at him with that sweet smile on her lips, his inner alpha was ready to pounce on her and it was all from just that one innocent kiss, “You’re welcome, doll” His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her body close to his, “Glad you liked it.” He returned her kiss with his own, a gentle grab on the side of her head and a loving kiss on her cheek.

A pleasant shiver crawled all over his body, his cheeks heated up and his ears reddened. Bucky’s eyes soften into a hazy gaze that if she look closely, she might see hearts twinkling in his ocean blues.

He wanted more. More of her lips, more of her gentle touch. More of her.

Before the sounds of their soft laughter could spread, the loud shrieking sound of a crying baby coming from y/n’s apartment startled both of them to a freeze. y/n was quick on her feet, “Oh no, Daisy.” she gasped as she broke out from Bucky’s loose grip.

The omega purred in delight to his gesture, her hand instinctively went to grab on his shoulder; literally melting in his embrace when she lost her stance.

Good thing Bucky had his arms securely around her because if not she would’ve ended up on the floor. Bucky chuckled amusingly when he slowly led her body to lean back, almost dangling on his arm, as his kisses lingered on her jaw.

“Come on in, Bucky.” she shouted when she entered the living room area. Bucky didn’t reject her offer, and stepped into the foyer. Closing the door behind him, he saw how some of her shoes were organised at the entrance; he quietly took off his shoes and slipped into one of the fuzzy guest slippers that was laid on the side.

Stepping further inside, he realised that this was his first time in y/n’s home. He felt a wave of warmth enveloped him like a comforting embrace. His eyes wandered around the corridor, noticing the photographs on the wall; each frame a snapshot of cherished moments frozen in time. Smiling faces gazed back at him, capturing the essence of love and laughter that filled the air.

As Bucky entered the living room, he was met with the sight of y/n tenderly coaxing a crying baby into calmness; swaying the little bundle to the rhythm of her quiet lullaby. His heart skipped a beat at the gentle scene, though he knew instinctively that the baby wasn't her own. Any other normal person would’ve thought the opposite. But the lack of semblance in their scent gave it away.

y/n glanced up, a mixture of apology and relief in her eyes. "This is Daisy, my next-door neighbour's baby girl," she explained, her voice soft with concern. "Her mother caught a high fever all of the sudden, and Mr.Scott is out of town for work.”

Bucky’s steps stopped when he reached by y/n’s side, “The couple is not from here. They just moved from the UK a few months ago. They don’t have any family here.” Bucky silently listened to her explanation as his eyes peered at the baby in her arms; now calmed and curious of the tall stranger next to y/n.

“I volunteered to care for her while the mother went for a checkup at the nearby medical centre." y/n explained as she softly wiped the remaining tears on Daisy's cheeks, "I'm sorry," y/n continued, her tone tinged with guilt. "I know it's selfish of me to cancel our date because of this."

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lips. “I could’ve suggested a day care or something. But instead, I took the job.” She chuckled when Daisy babbled some incoherent words.

Bucky quickly intercepted her before she could come up with other lines of unnecessary explanation. He shook his head, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "No, don't be," he reassured her, his gaze softened as the baby chortled gleefully. "I can see why it's hard to resist."

The atmosphere shifted into something else; sweet and warm until the sound of the oven timer went off. "And that would be my lunch burning," y/n remarked, relief evident in her tone. Without missing a beat, she passed Daisy into Bucky’s arms, and he instinctively cradled her close.

It was his first time holding a baby. He knows that babies are small, I mean everybody knows that. But he never realises how light they are. No wonder people say they are fragile.

It's the softest thing he ever touched, he could not believe it. So, he does it again and again. Apparently it is amusing to Daisy that Bucky was playing with her cheeks, the little sweetheart squeal and chortle every time he poked his finger on her. There was no denying the fact that Bucky’s heart was tugged in several different directions whenever she shrieked in joy.

When Bucky’s hand reached to touch Daisy’s cheeks, he realised that maybe handling a baby with leather gloves and jacket was probably not the best idea. He skillfully took them off while cradling the baby close to his chest.

When he was done stripping to Henley, he brought his fleshed finger and poked Daisy’s round cheek.

Bucky momentarily lifted his gaze and observed the chaos unfolding in the kitchen with a sense of understanding, then turned his attention back to baby Daisy, who gazed up at him with wide, adoring eyes. "How about I stay and help you babysit little Daisy?" he suggested, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Seems like you could use a helping hand."

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, touched by his offer. "You would do that?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "I don't see any reason not to," Bucky replied with a shrug. "We're…" his words halted when he thought about it, "…mates. No, not yet." his mind spoke. Stumbling over the word as he corrected himself. "You, You're my girl, after all."

A blush spread across y/n's cheeks at his words, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "Plus, I think little Daisy wants me to stay," Bucky continued, “Don’t you, flower?” his smile grew as the baby chortled and gurgled in agreement.

So, both of them took the role of being temporary parents while getting to know more about each other. If Steve was there to see this scene he’d tear up from how beautiful it was. The way they naturally tend to each other’s every need and how natural their chemistry clicked.

It was so effortless, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally finding their perfect fit. From the moment they stepped into the cosy haven of Daisy's world, there was an unspoken understanding between them, a shared connection that transcended mere words.

And the time flows like a gentle stream, Bucky and y/n found themselves swept up in the rhythm of their newfound relationship, even in the chaos of taking care of Daisy. Hours and hours passed, and when the sun set in the horizon, they nestled on the floor, a makeshift fortress of pillows and blankets cocooned them from the harsh reality of the outside world. Daisy, the tiny bundle of joy they were entrusted to care for, lay peacefully cradled in y/n’s arms.

As Bucky watched y/n’s gently sway with Daisy, he couldn't help but marvel at the tenderness in her touch. Her eyes sparkled with maternal warmth, a sight that stirred something deep within him. He had never seen such a sight before – so serene, so utterly captivating.

Daisy, in her innocence, reached out with tiny hands, her curious gaze fixating on Bucky’s metal fingers. With a playful gleam in her eyes, she chomped down on the cold material, eliciting a surprised yelp from Bucky. y/n chuckled softly, her laughter like music to his ears.

"Looks like Daisy's taken a liking to you," y/n remarked, her voice soft and affectionate.

Bucky grinned, gently wiggling his fingers out of Daisy’s mouth. His swift movement to wipe the string of saliva from Daisy’s mouth makes it look like Bucky was an experienced father, "Seems that way. Guess I'll have to watch out for that scary toothless mouth of hers."

The moment stretched on, each passing second filled with a quiet intimacy that seemed to enveloped them in a world of their own. Y/n leaned back against a mound of pillows, Daisy nestled contentedly against her chest. Bucky lay beside them, his gaze drifting between his omega and the sleepy child cooing on her chest.

Y/n's gaze lifted, her eyes meeting Bucky’s with a soft, shy smile playing on her lips. As she nestled further into the warmth of Daisy's soft head, a gentle blush crept across her cheeks, adding a rosy hue to her already radiant complexion.

"What’s on your mind, Bucky?" she asked, her voice soft and quiet as she settled Daisy into her crib for a nap before sliding back into his arms. Bucky wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

In that moment, Bucky found himself lost in thought. He couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu that washed over him, a fleeting memory of a similar scene with another woman.

It can’t be. She was a beta and y/n is an omega. It would be impossible. But what if…

"I was just thinking..." Bucky began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "Yes?" y/n's voice was a soft melody, laced with curiosity as she looked up at him. Bucky hesitated, unsure how to articulate the thoughts swirling in his mind. "Have we met before?" he finally asked, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

A playful grin danced across y/n's lips as she teased, "I don't know. Have we?"

Bucky felt a pang of surprise at her cheekiness, but he pressed on, recounting the memory of rescuing a girl from a dangerous situation in a park. "I can't help but see similarities between her and you," he admitted, his browdls furrowing with concern. "So, you think that I'm her?" y/n's tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of something more beneath the surface.

He hesitated, grappling with the uncertainty of his own memories. "I'm not sure...I never saw her face," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, a mischievous glint in her gaze. "Took you long enough to notice," she quipped, her words laced with humour.

Shocked with the revelation, his words stumbled, "But, but she's a beta, and you're..."He trailed off, his voice trailing as he struggled to find the right words. "An omega. Always was, still am," She finished for him, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"But your scent?" Bucky questioned, his confusion evident in his voice, “It changed?”

"Scent blockers," She explained simply, her tone softening as she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from his face. "It's a long story, we'll get there soon enough. But for now..." She trailed off, her gaze meeting his with a warmth that sent shivers down his spine. "How have you been, Alpha?"

Bucky felt his heartstrings pull at the affection in her words, and without hesitation, he pulled her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he inhaled her scent deeply. "Better. Much better, 'mega," he murmured, his voice filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

Bucky briefly pulled away from her, their eyes locked in a silent exchange and he felt a surge of tenderness wash over him, his heart swelling with affection for this beautiful woman who had stolen his heart. He reached out instinctively, brushing a stray lock of hair away from y/n's face, his touch as gentle as a whisper.

As Bucky leaned in closer, the soft brush of his breath against y/n's lips sent a thrill through her. His eyes, filled with a gentle intensity, held hers captive as he closed the distance between them. With a tender touch, he pressed his lips softly against hers, a delicate caress that ignited a spark between them.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as their lips met in a sweet and innocent kiss. She felt a rush of warmth flood through her, enveloping her in a cocoon of bliss. His kiss was like a gentle breeze on a warm summer day, soft and inviting, yet undeniably electrifying.

Y/n herself could feel the steady beat coming from between her thighs, she was pretty sure Bucky could feel it too. Of course he could, and he enjoyed the symphony of longing and desire that pulsed against his thigh. If she ever snuck her tiny hands on his crotch, she would know how much he enjoyed her soft lips; and her pretty princess part.

As they melted into each other's embrace, she lost herself in the sensation of his lips against hers; his hands rubbing the naked skin underneath her shirt.

While she was floating in the clouds, Bucky was at the brink of his sanity. He wanted to make his claim on her, to have her entirely to himself. and when the kiss deepened, he couldn’t contain his needy growl. His thick thigh naturally settled in between hers, gently guiding her hips down and her heat against the layer of his jeans.

Just as things began to heat up, a soft whine emanated from Daisy's crib, breaking the spell and bringing them back to reality. They pulled away from each other with shared laughter, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment as they realised they had been caught in the act by their tiny charge.

She glanced over at Daisy with a fond smile, her heart swelling with affection for the little interrupter. "So much for a second date, huh?" she joked, her tone laced with amusement.

Bucky met her gaze with a grin of his own, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "I wouldn't want it any other way," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity; they shared a final kiss, a promise of more to come, before turning their attention back to Daisy, who had already drifted back into a peaceful slumber.

As they settled back into their makeshift nest on the floor, Bucky and y/n knew that their love story was just beginning – a tale of unexpected encounters, stolen kisses, and the sweet promise of a future together.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: im in my soft feels latelyyyyy and i miss this couple 😭 anyway, i hope you enjoyed this short fic 🤍

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #alpha!bucky #chubby!bucky #bucky fluff

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rachalixie · 2 months

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my love, mine all mine

a/n: happy valentine's my angel @astraystayyh and my star @forlix <333 (this is not my best work but be kind to me i wrote it in a rush because i wanted it to be READY FOR YOU TODAY)

hyunjin setting up the perfect valentine's day for you

warnings: fem!reader, 2.3k

genre: fluff, est. relationship

you wake up on valentine’s day the same as you do any other day - a little grumpy, a lot tired, and above all wanting to close your eyes for just a few more minutes.

it takes you longer to admit to drag yourself into the shower and get dressed, but you give yourself credit for doing it before noon; you weren’t a morning person by nature.

you didn’t feel any particular way about valentine’s day - you’ve never had a valentine, never been in a serious enough relationship to where you felt it needed to be celebrated. you had whispered this to hyunjin a few days ago, cuddled into his chest at night, but beyond that you hadn’t really thought about it much.

it seems that hyunjin had, though, seeing as your living room floor was covered in red rose petals. a single, small. pink gift bag sat on the coffee table and you couldn’t help the jaw-aching smile that you were wearing. there was no sign that he was still there, his shoes were absent at the door and the absent-minded humming he habited wasn’t reaching your ears. he must have used the spare key to come in and set this up before work, and the idea of him coming over to do this and letting you sleep in on your day off was so sweet you thought you might get a toothache from it.

you walk to the center of the room to open the gift, on your tiptoes to avoid stepping on the sweet smelling petals scattered on the carpet. your mouth drops into an O shape when a single piece of paper is revealed at the bottom of the bag.

put these coordinates into your maps, it reads, and you frown in confusion. you do it, and an address pops up that you’ve never seen before. you assume he wants you to go there, but why? he was at work, wasn’t he?

your short walk there leads you to a coffee shop just a few blocks away from your apartment, a small family-owned one that you had been meaning to try for weeks. it’s cozy, with paper hearts and flowers decorating the place and chalkboard menus advertising sweet sounding valentine’s lattes.

“this is for you,” the server at the counter tells you as you approach to order, holding out a paper cup and a neatly folded paper bag. you take the items from her, inspecting them carefully. the cup has earl gray tea latte scrawled onto its side, and the bag contains a mouth-watering pastry dotted with bits of almond and chocolate. what is this?

“how much do i owe…?” you look back up at the server as she turns to return to stocking the pastry case, and her ponytail swishes as she faces you.

“it’s taken care of,” she winks at you, smiling. “someone really loves you, huh?”

“yeah,” your heart swells as you take a seat in the corner of the shop to enjoy your breakfast. “he does.”

you sip on your tea slowly, people watching as the thought of hyunjin rushing here after stopping at your place to give them your order warming you from the inside out. an elderly couple comes in next, hand in hand as they place an order. a young man stops by, holding a bouquet of flowers and blushing as he asks for two strawberry-chocolate mochas.

several people later, you stand up to recycle the cup and empty paper bag, walking out the door as you take your phone out to send hyunjin an aggressive thank-you text.

“wait!” the server calls after you, and you stop in your steps as she jogs to catch up with you. “i forgot to give you this.”

she stretches her hand out towards you, a small gift bag identical to the one you’d found in your apartment dangling off of her fingers.

“oh, thank you,” you say, blinking at the bag as she disappears almost as quickly as she came.

get in the car, it reads. you glance up just as a sleek black sedan pulls up next to you, the tinted passenger side window rolling down to reveal seungmin.

“what is this?” you pop your head into the window, sending a glare at him as if that would make him talk. if there is anyone who will keep a secret to the death, it’s kim seungmin.

“the note says to get in the car,” he rolls his eyes, unlocking the door so you could slide in next to him. “we don’t want to be late.”

“late to what?” you ask, but he ignores you in favor of turning the music up. it’s playing a song from your favorite artist, one that you know seungmin doesn’t listen to.

he rolls the car to a stop on a familiar street downtown and he finally smiles at you as he unlocks the doors again.

“we’re here,” he says, then exits the car to hop around to your side to open the door for you. “enjoy the rest of your day, madam.”

“what a gentleman,” you tease him, taking his hand as he helps you out of the car.

“for the woman of honor? it’s my pleasure,” before you could ask him what he meant by honor, he’s hopping back into his car and driving off.

this is weird. right?

he had dropped you off right in front of your regular nail salon. as you’re waiting by the door, conflicted over whether you should go in or not, one of the technicians opens the door, waving at you to come in.

“hi,” you greet her, “i was, well. driven here? but i don’t have an appointment.”

“of course you have an appointment,” she grins, white teeth flashing at you. “for right now. come right this way!”

she leads you to a chair, and your favorite tech exits out the staff room in the back and sits across the table from you.

“hi beautiful,” she says, and the familiarity of her tampers down the overwhelming feeling that had been creeping up on you. “full set, right? what color?”

“oh, i wasn’t really prepared…” you think of your dwindling bank account and grimace. “maybe just polish? dark red, though.”

“oh don’t worry,” she winks at you before getting her materials set up at the station. “it’s been paid in advance.”

as she gets to work on your nails, you can’t help the all-consuming rush of affection that surges through you. when had hyunjin had time to plan all of this?

you thank everyone profusely once she’s done, marveling at your new set of nails. you’re not as surprised this time when the girl who had waved you in earlier hands you a small, now familiar gift bag.

the next stop leads you to a hair salon, one that you’ve never been to if only because it was so expensive. designer products lined the walls for purchase, plush leather seats were placed in front of lit up floor to ceiling mirrors - it was like a palace.

you’re the only customer there, which surprised you. it was valentine’s day, didn’t others want to get their hair done too?

you couldn’t complain though, especially when the hair stylist asks you what you wanted done and listened to you with rapt attention. the lack of anyone else there was a welcome surprise.

the stylist washes your hair, the water she uses somehow the perfect temperature for you. her fingers move in expert motions, relaxing you and making you melt into the chair.

she walks you over to her station and gets started on blow-drying your wet hair, and man approaches with a basket full of makeup. he wordlessly brushes it on, making gentle swiping motions across your eyelids and cheeks that almost feel like hyunjin’s eyelashes fluttering against your skin.

they work in amazing synchronization, so in tune with one another that you’re a little overwhelmed by the time they finish.

“you look divine,” the man compliments, high-fiving the hair stylist over your head.

“like a princess,” the woman nods, turning you towards the mirror and - oh. you do look amazing, soft waves framing your face and neutral tones accenting your eyes.

“thank you so much,” you gush, marveling at how the blush and highlight adorning your cheeks turn brighter when you smile.

“it’s our pleasure,” the makeup artist replies, patting your shoulder. “you were wonderful to work on. come back anytime.”

“let me guess,” you can’t help the smile from leaving your face. “it’s taken care of?”

the man nods as the hair stylist hands you the gift bag you were already expecting.

this time it tells you to cross the street, and a quick glance shows a small row of shops. there’s a tiny number scribbled on the corner of the slip of paper, and it matches up with the number on top of one of the shops. it was a small boutique, less flashy than any of the places you've been directed to all day.

this stop is more of a quick affair, a young girl greeting you like she knew you and ushering you into a changing room where a shoe box is waiting on a stool and a garment bag hangs on a hook. you unzip it to reveal a beautiful red dress, flowy fabric falling like waterfalls off of the hanger.

you put it on and it fits you like a well-worn ring, complimenting your figure like it was tailored specifically for you. the heels are a perfect fit too, and you almost feel like cinderella waiting to meet your prince. the girl is waiting outside when you step out, and you feel the urge to hide from her when she fixes you with a scrutinizing look.

“how do i look?” you ask her, and her face breaks out into a beam towards you.

“you look phenomenal,” she gushes, twirling you around so she could see every angle. “he chose so well, the dress compliments you perfectly.”

“my clothes?” you turn back to get them, but she stops you with a hand on your elbow.

“don’t worry about them, they’ll get back to you,” she walks you towards the door. “he’s right next door - don’t be late!”

you take a deep breath as you exit the shop, your fingers wringing together with unexpected nerves. why are you nervous? hyunjin had created the perfect day for you - finally seeing him would be the icing on the perfect cake. you push through the nerves as you push open the door, and you cant help but gasp in wonder when you take in the interior.

it looks like an abandoned storefront, remodeled to make a whimsical scene. there’s strings of fairy lights lining the brick walls, creeping around green vines that make the space look like something out of a storybook. rose petals, the same ones from this morning, line a trail towards a small table in the center of the room. candles shone on top of it, two glasses of freshly poured wine glinting in the firelight, and next to the table is a man who’s been waiting eagerly.

it’s hyunjin, standing tall with a deliciously fitted suit framing his body and a single rose held in his hand. you walk towards him, your heels clicking on the floor as you try not to trip in your rush to fall into his arms.

“you did all this? the whole thing?” you ask, willing the tears to stay in your lids as to not mess up your freshly done makeup. out of all the things you’ve done today, getting to stand in the circle of his arms is by far the best part.

“of course i did,” he rubs a hand up and down your spine, letting the tips of his fingers trace across the zipper there. “i wanted to make this day perfect.”

“i loved it,” you pull away to look him in the eyes. “i love you. i would have loved it if you showed in sweatpants up with takeout too.”

“i know,” he looks at you with an overwhelming amount of fondness brimming in his eyes. “but you’re special. i wanted to do something that showed you how special you are.”

“you’re a real life prince, did you know that?” you lay a light smack on his chest, so overfilled with happiness that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“well, if i’m a prince,” he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek, then to your forehead. “then you’re my princess.”

he pulls something out of his pocket and fastens it behind your neck, and you look down as a light weight settles between your collarbones. it’s a necklace, a dainty H hanging off of a chain, a single stone nestled in the middle of the pendant.

“this is too much,” you pout, much too pleased to actually throw a fuss. you know he loves you, and you know how he loves.

“nothing is too much when it comes to you,” his voice is fragile and honest, and you can’t help but kiss him, giggling when you pull away and he chases after you.

he holds out the chair closest to you and pushes it in for you, dashing to the other side to sit down himself. he drops his hand to the table, upturned with his fingers splayed, and you take the message to intertwine your fingers with his as you take a sip of the sweetest wine that has ever touched your lips.

he doesn’t let go of your hand for the entire night.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader

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luvacookie · 13 days

Text

୨୧ thru ur phone.

connie leaves his phone unattended.

❥ warnings : cheating, threats, intended useage of lowercase, fem blk coded reader

❥ cookie for ur thoughts ? : sorry guys was in an angsty mood so i wrote an angsty drabble </3 but i am considering writing a follow up to this !

“the fuck is this connie ?”

he stares at his game, the lighting from the screen highlighting the contortion of his face.

“what’cha on about..” he says dazed, groaning as he gets killed again.

you throw his phone on top of his desk harshly, the device landing face up. he jumps at the unexpected, loud noise, his eyes finally cutting away from the screen and to you with a squint.

“what the fuck ? i’m in the middle of s’mthin’ ‘nd you throwin’ shit in my face,” he says with a huff, unaware of what almost hit him.

“ion give a fuck about your dumb fucking game ! who the fuck is that and why is she texting you about how she misses you in her fucking bed constance,” you shout at him, your hands fidgeting in annoyance.

his face drops at that statement, suddenly sitting up straight and realising that it was his phone that you were holding.

he snatches it up quickly, scrolling through all the notifications.

“the fuck you going through my shit for y/n—” he says annoyed, looking up at you with a scowl.

“don’t play that card with me right now, i’m so close to beating the living shit outta your ass !” you yell, the fidgeting turning into mild pacing.

he watches you move up and down with narrowed eyes, the words on his tongue struggling to find an exit. “it’s nobody, stop stressin’ over it.”

“ ‘nobody’ my fucking ass constance ! you think ‘cus you named the bitch ‘work’ in yo’ phone means i’m fuckin’ dumb ?” you snap at him, standing in one place.

he stands up out of his gaming chair, attempting to cross the room to you.

“don’t fuckin’ come near me connie. i swear to god, i will put hands on your scumbag ass—” you spew, taking steps backwards.

“y/n talk to me, we can talk about this,” he tries, his hands reaching for you.

you scoff. “fuck tha’ and fuck you. get your shit and fuckin’ go.”

he looks taken aback, not expecting those words out of your mouth. “huh ?”

“i’m not fucking repeating myself, find somewhere else to be ‘cus i do not want to see your fucking face right now,” you say firmly, watching him.

his eyes scan over you in mild disbelief. he tries to step towards you again and you step back, your mindset clear and decided. he stops and looks around for a brief moment before disappearing into your shared bedroom.

you exhale a shaky breath and the tears, that you didn’t know you were holding, start falling. you hold your mouth to silence the sounds of your cries, opting to move into the living room and sit on the couch as they continue to slide down your face.

you try to slow your heart rate and your breathing, desperate to keep your composure so that when he walks into the room you can keep your head held high.

you’re texting your best friend, informing her of the situation when connie appears in front of you from a distance, holding a duffle bag with a few random items in it and his shoes.

“i- i’m sorry y/n, i am,” he mumbles, rocking back and forth on his feet like a child.

“sorry isn’t fucking good enough,” you reply.

he opens his mouth to say something but decides not to, choosing to put his shoes on and unlock the front door.

he turns to look at you before leaving, the chain rattling as the door shuts.

when you feel confident enough that he’s out of range you start sobbing, the tears flowing consistently.

there’s nothing you can do but let the heartbreak consume you, ignoring the sound of his car racing down the street.

#🍪: alexies cookie crumbs.#connie springer x reader #connie x black reader #connie springer #aot x reader #aot x black reader #aot smut #x black fem reader #i have been prod so many drabbles gosh

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theemporium · 9 months

Note

Fluff you say? What about sirius in an established relationship still pining hopelessly after reader, like she’s across from him in the library or they meet up after class and sirius is all heart eyes and trying to touch her and kiss her as if they’ve been separated for years???

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

One hour.

You had been apart from your boyfriend for one hour and he was acting as though you had been shipped off to war or something equally as dramatic.

He had a double free period in the afternoon, one hour of which he shared with you before you disappeared off to your herbology class. And unfortunately for his friends, it meant they were left dealing with an undeniably whiny Sirius until you returned.

“Pads, I swear to fuck—”

“This is not the support I need, Moony,” Sirius sighed heavily. “Where’s the emotional support in this friendship? Where is the concern for my happiness?”

Remus closed his eyes, his fingers pressed against his temples. “She’s coming back, I don’t know why you’re acting like she won’t.”

“Sorry for missing my girlfriend,” Sirius scoffed.

“You should be,” James piped up, lifting his head from the textbook he had been lying face first on. “You’re being dramatic. And that’s coming from me.”

Sirius glared between his two best friends. “Evans would never treat me like this.”

“Lily would hex your mouth shut before you could even start crying,” James snorted.

“I just want to be with—”

“Your girlfriend, yes! We get it!” Remus interrupted, opening his eyes just to find a pout on his friend’s lips. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

Sirius lifted his chin. “All I’m saying is—”

“Oh no, what’s he on about now?”

All three boys’ heads whirled around as they watched you approach their table they had snagged in the courtyard. You had your book bag over your shoulder, a few books in your hands and a tired smile on your face as you walked towards them after your last class of the day.

It was a sight to behold as Sirius scrambled up from his seat, meeting you halfway as he grabbed your face and placed a smacking kiss against your lips.

“My love,” he grinned down at you as he quickly took your books and bag from you, placing them on the table before wrapping his arms around you.

“Hi baby,” you laughed, your arms wounding around his waist as you swayed back and forth.

“Missed you,” he murmured against your neck, letting out a wistful sigh as he felt your fingers run through his hair.

“You saw me earlier, Sirius,” you snorted, catching the eyes of both Remus and James over your boyfriend’s shoulders. “Can’t have missed me that much.”

James snorted. “Wanna bet?”

Sirius pulled back, ignoring both his friends as he simply smiled down at you. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Where are we going?”

“To nap in my dorm,” he said with a cheeky grin. “And get away from these pricks.”

“Please keep your hands to yourself!” James groaned. “I don’t need to walk in on anything again.”

Sirius grabbed your belongings, not letting you hold a single item before he flashed his friends a smile, already dragging you away from the table.

“Keep your eyes closed then, Prongs!”

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notquitecanon · 5 months

Text

Insufferably Admirable // Astarion x Reader

Summary: After a restful day turns into a bloody night, your unspoken yet painfully obvious dedication to Astarion has put you in what should be a harder choice. Once Astarion realizes just how far you'd go for him, he has to begin to confront the feelings and realizations he's been ignoring for a while. OR that time You figured out the most effective way to heal a vampire and Astarion got emotional about it

Set at the end of Act 1, but not quite act two. Pre-confession but it's obvious they have some sort of feelings for each other

TW: canon typical violence, blood & blood drinking(obvi this is an Astarion fic), no use of Tav or (Y/N), one use of technical self harm (c*tting) but not in a self mutilation way??, mentions of manipulation obvi, reader might be a little too willing to help (totally not be projecting what???)

this is my first time writing anything for Astarion after hyper fixating on him for a month so please be gentle. I know it's a bit all over the place. (yes I could have completely left out the first half, but there isn't much actual dialogue in the second half and I like to put this guy in situations)

"Remind me again why you insisted on coming with me? I figured you’d be ripe for a day to lay around camp and let us do all the heavy lifting." You grumbled, scanning the crowded streets for a merchant. The goal was simple: get to the nearest village, sell off the extra weight, use the gold to stock the necessary supplies, and whatever the gold couldn’t buy… well, acquire it by any means necessary. No matter your path, through the shadows or the Underdark, you'd need to be prepared.

Gale had gone to pilfer for useful scrolls and maybe an enchanted item to snack on. Lae’zel and Shadowheart to a blacksmith for specialty arrows, useful armor, and any other weapons that caught their eyes. Karlach had carried the two trunks and barrel of items you had collected from your adventure thus far, finding you a wheelbarrow before heading back to camp to help Wyll with his preparations. Halsin… had taken his wild form and disappeared into the forest. Originally, you had intended to do your tasks alone, until-

"My dear, I’m always ripe for a lay." Astarion twisted your words with a smirk, easily dodging the hand that reached to swat his chest. With a short laugh, he answered your question, his theatrics only increasing to more you argued, "To begin with, Someone- my fabulous self- had to make sure you didn’t get the whole group wrapped up in another laundry list of side quests- who knows what trouble you could have found if you were left all by your lonesome? A gnoll den? A kraken in the pond? an old woman’s wagon with a broken wheel? a kitten up a tree? An orphanage with a leaky roof? Another cult for us to dismantle? Another temple to drop on me? Where would it end? You’re incapable of turning people away, it’s one of your insufferably admirable qualities."

"It’s called being kind, you dramatic elf." You grumbled, not prepared for the in depth analysis of your character. Trying not to focus so much on the fact he’d called something about you admirable.

"Second, knowing you, you’d sell all this off and still manage to come back to camp with them full. Honestly, pet, how have you managed to collect this much junk? You don’t even have a bag of holding." Astarion scoffed, using a single pale finger to peek under the lid of the barrel. It was just barely containing the countless daggers, goblin bows, pairs of leather armors, and dusty sandals. Your cheeks burned hot- maybe you had a habit of being overzealous in how eagerly you pilfered through all the crates you came across, checking bodies for anything valuable, and demanding the vampire to pick every locked chest the party uncovered. Hells only knew the thrill you got when you would find a buried chest.

"You never know when you might need something!" You reasoned, but swatted him away to hastily shut the barrel before the contents could spill out. It had taken you the better part of the night to pack it full of all the things your companions had convinced you to get rid of. The pale elf rolled his eyes, brushing past you so gracefully you didn’t feel his fingers in your pocket.

"Really, my sweet? When, pray tell, might we need the collection of rusty necklaces you’ve amassed." Astarion held the bronze and silver necklaces up to the light, the red and blue stones sparkling despite the rust. His voice always like velvet, ruby eyes alight with teasing, "Far be it from me to criminalize accessorizing, but that darling neck of yours is tempting enough already."

"Astarion!" You cringed, hearing your voice almost whine. Damn him for having that effect, so you cleared your throat as you snatched the jewelry back, "They are useful when we can sell them for gold."

Astarion, having gotten the reaction he wanted, let you shove the necklaces back in a pocket before glaring at him, though it didn’t hold much actual malice, "Well, come on then, let’s sell the sandals for all the riches the village has to offer us."

—

An afternoon later, you were smiling smugly as you watched Astarion grumble. Between all the goods and six different merchants, you were leaving with an additional 9,000 in gold, not to mention the additional 3,000 Astarion had managed to pickpocket while you bartered, and the items the two of you had managed to swipe. You felt particularly vindicated as he complained about the weight of the coins in his pack.

"I’ll buy you something pretty in Baldur’s Gate." You cooed teasingly, to ‘appease’ him. Astarion spared you a deadpan glance before standing to leave, only making you giggle all the more, "Let’s get back to camp."

Astarion caught your eyes once more, scowl softening out at the sight of your bright smile. He was just about to say something sickeningly sweet and perhaps more than a touch vulgar when his eyes flitted up to something, pointed ears twitching at something you couldn’t quite hear. Until you could.

The door of the jeweler you had swindled burst open, a strangled voice shrieking, "THIEVES! SOMEONE CATCH THEM!"

Astarion must have been rubbing off on you, because for a moment you tried to feign confusion, looking around for the ‘culprits’ as if the dwarf wasn’t pointing directly at you. Not that it did much good as several passerbys began to circle around the two of you.

"Everyone’s so touchy about their personal belongings these days." The rogue scoffed. Astarion grabbed your wrist and tugged you to him, so that your back was pressed to his and no one could sneak up on you. In his other hand, a dagger had already appeared.

You sighed in defeat, taking your bow off your back, "No killing."

"No promises."

Compared to the goblin camp or fighting through the githyanki creche, disarming and incapacitating untrained townspeople and barely trained guards was barely a warm up. Still, Astarion never left your side, an increasingly common occurrence when you found yourself in tight situations. Together, it didn’t take long to put distance between yourselves and your attackers, managing to get far enough to escape to the fight. Deflecting one last blow as the two of you passed by an open tavern, you incapacitated a rather pitiful guard with a blunt thunk from the pommel of your dagger. Taking one relieved breath, you tried not to focus too much of the trail of bleeding, unconscious bodies you and the rogue had left behind in your escape attempt.

"Best we stick to the shadows before we attract more attention." Astarion mused with a cruel smirk, grabbing your sleeve and using it to wipe the blood off the corner of his mouth, his fangs glinting in the afternoon sun. The rogue only chuckled at your curses, giving some inane quip about the crime of dirtying his ensemble and how blood someone always looked better on you, "Now, believe what I said about you finding trouble? Back to camp before you find more."

Before you could wrench your arm back or remind him that he was the only who got caught stealing, he pulled you off the main road into the alley adjacent- unaware of the attention that had already been attracted from inside the tavern.

____

Ambushed in the night.

A whole hunting party of Gur hunters. Willing to purge your party as they slept.

And they were calling Astarion the monster. Fortunately, Scratch was an excellent guard dog. Waking the entire camp when the hunters tried to creep where you slept. Just as fortunately, there wasn’t a soul in camp that didn’t sleep without at least a dagger under their pillow.

Your camp had become a bloodbath in the dim glow of the campfire. You had used the book you had fallen asleep reading as an improvised weapon, throwing it so hard it broke the first hunter’s nose. Lae’zel was single handedly mowing through three hunter with her long sword. Spells and incantations sent flashes of light from Gale and Shadowheart’s part of camp, and fire and brimstone lit up Karlach’s. There was yelling and cursing echoing in the cool night air, orders to take the vampire spawn alive and to kill the rest.

And Astarion? Their target?

He was where he always was during a fight these days. Right beside you, like a pale, snarky shadow. He had been the one to press your sword into your hand so you’d have more than just your dagger. With him, you slashed and sliced anything that came near. Until the bastard appeared out of no where, squeezing in between you and the rogue. You would have applauded (more likely cursed) the near perfect use of an invisibility charm- had it not been for the poison-dipped stake raised against Astarion.

This hunter was different, you could see it in his eyes. They were somehow devoid of life and yet also simmering with rage as they trained on your snow haired companion. This hunter didn’t plan to take Astarion back to Baldur’s Gate, not alive at least. He didn’t care about whatever orders they had, or what consequences would come for disobeying them. He only cared about driving the stake into Astarion’s heart.

Astarion’s eyes went wide as well at the sight of the stake, realizing as you did that this was no longer just a kidnapping, it would be an assassination. Your thundering heart stuttered, blood going supernova in your veins before freezing to ice as your mind whirled through a hundred different possibilities and also went blank. Your own opponent, along with years of learned strategy, were instantly forgotten as blind instinct took over. Every ounce of strength and speed you had was directed into a desperate lunge. In your desperation, you really weren’t sure if your goal was to tackle the hunter, grab his arm, tackle Astarion, or maybe even take the stake to your chest instead- you decided to choose along the way, as long as it ended with Astarion alive(ish) and well.

You managed to close the distance, one hand planted firmly to Astarion’s chest shoving him further and the other clamping onto the leather of the hunter’s gauntlet, the same arm poising the stake. With a feral sounding shriek, you pushed his arm so his aim was off. At the same time, your original opponent, frustrated at being forgotten, cast a wave of thunder that sent all three of you flying.

Astarion, the Gur, and you flew backwards a good fifteen feet, the thunder shaking you to your very bones and splitting your ears. The breath was knocked out of you so hard you thought your poor lungs might collapse and you weren’t able to tell if it was the spell or the impact that did it. You didn’t have time to contemplate, the moment you were able, you scrambled onto your knees. With the same feral tenacity from earlier, you grabbed the hunter by the front of his leather armor, nails leaving scarily deep tracks as you hauled him off your vampiric companion. With your new opponent, you rolled both your bodies until you were on top of him, knee to his chest. Seeing the look in your eyes, the rage left his own, pure survival instinct taking over. You didn’t even feel the sting of the slicing blow across your shoulder, too consumed with a singular mission. It was Astarion’s dagger you had snatched from the ground on the way that delivered the quick death blow. Halsin, in bear form, had appeared out of the tree line and took care of your other thunderous hunter, taking a defensive position around you and Astarion with a goading roar. You expected to hear something from Astarion- a snarky comment about your lack of technique, a snide remark about his assailant, or even just a stream of petty curses- but he was silent. You turned back to him, only to have dread flood every cell in your body.

Nothing else mattered anymore, not the fight, not your injuries, and especially not your forgotten original hunter. Halsin, in bear form, had appeared out of the tree line and took care of your other thunderous hunter, taking a defensive position around you and Astarion with a goading roar. You barely noticed.

The moment you’d disposed of Astarion’s assailant, you were scrambling back towards the rogue, who was laying all too still. At first, you hesitated to even touch him as if that might make it worse. You called his name once, and then again when you were able to gingerly lay hands on him- one hand to his chest and the other pushing some curls out of his eyes. The stake, what should have been an almost useless weapon against anyone else, was still buried in his chest, piercing his favorite frilled collar shirt.

"No… Astarion-" Your voice was breaking, thick and raw. Your eyes couldn’t rip away from the stake, protruding from his chest, the poison staining the white linen of his shirt a sickly green. The hand on his chest balled into a fist, bunching the unsoiled fabric in your grip, but something caught your attention. The tiniest candle light of hope in the rapidly encroaching darkness of grief.

Your hand was directly over his undead heart. Anytime you touched him, your hand always fell directly over his heart. When you teasingly swatted at his chest, when you needed to steady yourself against him, when you needed to catch you balance… you always sought out his heart- subconsciously, instinctually, always his heart. Your hand was over his heart, and that gods-damned stake was four inches to the right. A tiny light, but a light none the less. It was then you realized you were calling the wrong name.

"SHADOWHEART!"

None of your companions had ever heard your voice that desperate, that scared. All their heads snapped to where they had last seen you, finding Astarion pulled to your chest as you wrenched the stake out of the spawn. Astarion stirred only long enough the let our a gurgling shout that fizzled into a groan at the pain, and you could only hope he heard your soft apologies before you started barraging the vampire with healing cantrips. You didn’t stop until the words held no more magic, your supply of magic tapped for the night.

The night air had changed, no longer fueled by adrenaline and challenge, now it was thick with urgency and fear. Each of your companions starting fighting towards the two of you, and when you locked watery eyes with Shadowheart you found her clearing her path with her spear. She had stopped using magic to fight, saving it all for Astarion.

"I’m coming! Hold on!" She promised as Karlach fell in beside her, battle axe taking over and sending two hunters to the grave together. Scratch and the owlbear cub had taking a lesson from Halsin and formed up beside you, growling into the night with hackles raised and feathers ruffled.

"Just hold on, Astarion." You relayed to the vampire, who was completely limp against you his back to your chest, head tilted back against your shoulder which bared his neck to you, showing the fang marks on his pale skin. If you were capable of humor, you would have laughed about the reversal of roles, it was usually you baring your veins to him. But at the moment, his lack of movement wasn’t particularly amusing, so instead you laced his fingers through yours, hoping the warmth would bring him some comfort. You pressed your cheek against his white curls, using your other hand to brandish his dagger just incase anyone got too close, and whispered all the reasons he was going to be okay. And that’s how you stayed until camp quietened and Shadowheart slid to a stop in front of you.

___

Hours later, Shadowheart had used every healing and restoration spell she knew, not stopping even when she began to sway and sweat. Halsin had offered his magic and healing herbs, Karlach made sure there was always a bucket of hot water and a stack of clean rags available, and you hadn’t missed Gale trying to hide the scroll of reviving from you as he slipped it to Shadowheart. Everyone in camp had been quick to gather all the healing potions, depositing them at the entrance of Astarion’s tent. Wyll and Lae’zell had slipped into the tree line to make sure the ambush was well and truly taken care of.

And you? Their appointed ‘fearless’ leader? You had gone uncharacteristically silent. Your heart hadn’t left your throat, clenching painfully every time they jostled the rogue. Your hands were shaking too much, both from fear and white hot rage, to really help the two more experienced healers of the group. And the thought of being too far from Astarion made your stomach turn, so you kept rooted like a tree. But, you were grateful, truly, for all of them. Even if in the moment, all you could do was sit beside Astarion and pray to any God or Devil that would listen. You felt like a wild animal in a cage and a helpless child at the same time, your insides very well might vibrate out of the body if you didn’t melt into the soil first.

The vampire needed all the help he could get. Aside from the occasional heartbreaking groan of pain or agony driven writhing, Astarion was eerily still. Barely breathing, less so than usual. His already pale, chilled skin had taken on a stony complexion, almost gray. And despite the inability to run a fever, there was a sheen of sweat over his face, clammy and uncomfortable. You hadn’t allowed them to undress him all the way, but part his shirt had been cut away to reveal the stab wound. It was deep, weeping Astarion’s already dark blood, and stretching out from the injury were black, twisting varicose veins that afforded you the cruel visual of the poison spreading. You wanted to take Gale’s revival scroll, use it on the hunter, and revoke the kindness of your mercifully quick death.

"It’s like the effect of our magic is being dampened." Shadowheart huffed, hands glowing as she cast another restoration spell. The sweat on Astarion’s brow subsided briefly before returning. Halsin nodded beside her, taking a deep sniff of the stake.

"His lack of blood isn’t moving the potions or antidote through his body fast enough, and this poison isn’t doing any favors." The druid thought aloud, taking some of his herbs to make a paste, "It doesn’t matter how many we pour down his throat if his body can’t absorb them."

Shadowheart’s worried gaze flickered to you for a moment, before settling back on Halsin, "We’ll figure something out."

You knew she was saying that more for your benefit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the pity. Instead, your grip tightened on Astarion’s hand as you swiped a clean rag to dab at his face. There was one more round of healing incantations and one more bottle of healing potion nursed into Astarion’s mouth. Your jaw twitched, watching most of it fall from the corner of his mouth. The same trail your own blood usually made after he fed.

"I’m tapped." Shadowheart sighed almost ruefully, the glow around her flickering and then fading, falling back on her heels. Halsin stood, stooped slightly in the low ceiling of the tent, turning to you.

"We’ve done everything we can do. We’ll try again with fresh minds in the morning. For now the best he, and we, can do is rest." His voice was calming, as if he thought you might start screaming again, but you just nodded, muttering something along the lines of thanks for trying, and not meeting either of their eyes as they ducked out of the tent.

Since you had belligerently refused any of their magical attempts to heal your shoulder, Gale had done a rather pitiful job of wrapping it, taking some pointers from Karlach along the way. The wizard offered you a tight smile and a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder before pressing a bottle of healing potion into your hand, "This one is for you. You’re no good to him if you bleed out all over the floor of his tent. We all know how Astarion feels about waste."

"Yeah- fancy boy will be starving when he wakes up." Karlach’s chipper voice was still laced with a sting of concern. The tiefling didn’t touch you for fear of burning you, but did leave you with some roasted meat and a carafe of water from earlier in the night, "And it wouldn’t hurt for you to eat something either, soldier."

Then you were left alone with your thoughts, hunched next to Astarion’s side, tired eyes examining the bottle after confirming the rise and fall of his chest. In your hand, the potion glowed slightly with the subtlest warmth, the scarlet liquid seeming to have a mind of its own as it swirled in glittering patterns behind the glass. Your injuries were meager, this little bottle of healing would have you as good as new. Bitterly, you flicked your eyes to the numerous empty potion bottles in the corner that had barely slowed Astarion’s bleeding. Your hand closed around it as you cast another look to the Vampire spawn beside you. His breaths were shaky and shallow even after Shadowheart and Halsin had exhausted every last bit of magic they'd had. Now in the quietest parts of the night, or maybe the darkest hours of the morning, your thoughts swirled, desperate for any sort of plan to latch onto. You had to do something.

For you, Gale had said, No good to him if you bled out… He’d be starving, Karlach had been joking, His lack of blood wasn’t moving the potions enough to be effective, that had been Halsin’s hypothesis.

Blood. He needed blood.

The revelation was like being dropped into a freezing lake, determination razing the fearful lethargy out of your soul. With your teeth, you pried the cork out and downed the first circular bottle, the overly sweet taste a stark contrast to the somber mood of the night. For good measure, you did the same with a potion of superior healing and two bottles of general poison antidote, slamming them down so fast you had to ignore the churning in your stomach. You’d loot twenty more goblin caves to make up for the dent in supplies if you had to, in that moment you just didn’t care. You waited a moment, begging the powers that be for your ragtag plan to work, not so patiently watching the bruises on your wrist until they started to fade.

You felt it, the moment that you had been completely healed and there was no where else for that magic to go. And then, you wrapped your arms under Astarion’s, heaving him against your chest. You bared your neck, letting gravity gently swing Astarion's nose to meet your pulse point, his silvery lashes tickling your jaw. He stirred slightly, groaning at the movement, pressing himself into your warmth before stilling again. Was he too far gone to realize what was being offered?

Realizing you’d need to play into his vampiric insticts, you huffed, shattering one of the empty vials against a stone, struggling to do so and keep his deadweight in place. Taking a shard, it wasn’t hesitation but a moment of stilling your shaking hand before you pressed a shallow cut to your neck, right above where his lips rested.

You hissed at the haphazard sting, not as gentle as the pinprick of his fangs were in the night, feeling the blood instantly pool at the seam, a single red ribbon dripping before the potion healed the scratch, "C’mon, Astarion-"

The moment his name left your lips, or maybe it was the moment a drop of your blood hit his, regardless you could feel his instinct, that sanguine hunger, take over. The soft lips at your neck were replaced with dagger sharp fangs digging into where the small cut had been. The sound you let out was somewhere between a gasp of pain and sob of relief as you barred him against yourself, fists clutching into the back of his shirt like it would keep both of you rooted to each other. Somewhere, in the back on your mind, you thought about the irony of the position, being so afraid to let him slip away, like a rabbit latching onto a snake for fear of the serpent starving. Even if it meant being consumed.

In that moment, you were so relieved he’d started feeding that you didn’t care that his fangs dug in deeper than they ever had before, much more animalistic than his usual polite nibble. You didn’t dare flinch or wince, in case that might break the spell. Instead, you focussed keeping the both of you upright, one of your arms wrapped under his own, your fingers splayed across his ribs, and your other hand cupping the nape of his neck. The angle had his silvery curls dusting your fingertips and your thumb caressing the sharpest part of his jaw. Never had you been so happy to feel that throbbing numbness in your neck. Astarion’s chin prodded further into your neck, deepening the hold he had, and with his own shaky breath, he swallowed the first mouthful of your blood.

The hand at his ribs clenched, pulling him impossibly closer and twisting his shirt into your grip again as your pulse began to speed up. The increase of your heart rate only seemed to encourage the vampire, teeth sinking ever deeper to draw more blood flow. Clenching your jaw, you forced your muscles not to tense, it would only make it hurt more. This mouthful was quicker, Astarion seemed to be actively drawing it out of you instead of just waiting for it. He swallowed again, gaining the strength to snake his arms around you. It wasn’t a strong hold at first, but one arm snaked around your waist while the other cradled the back of your head, those long fingers finding their usual place in the locks of your hair. You couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped, relishing the cool touch. Your voice stoked another fire in him, provoking another instinct, your blood provided the strength for his grip to harden, becoming more cage like. As if he needed to worry about you trying to escape.

He swallowed again, and the numbness spread, not just in your neck but into your cheeks and across your chest. Blood was racing, coursing through you and into him, and with it all the magic of the healing potions. You could feel him getting his legs underneath him, untangling himself from you. At the same time, it was getting harder to hold your arm up, the numbness had reached your fingertips leaving them fumbling at his curls before falling to his shoulder. Another long drink and you found your eyes starting to flutter, everything was starting to feel cold as a shiver shook your body. Astarion, against two centuries of vampiric instinct, started to pull back, and you didn’t stop him, but didn’t let him go far either. He was mostly supporting himself now, which was a relief because a fair bit of focus was freshly delegated to preventing yourself from swaying.

"Take all you need, ’Stari-" You meant for your voice to be assuring and strong, but it came out breathy and slightly slurred. Astarion pulled away, the movement bringing you mostly out of your stupor. His ruby eyes were as sharp as ever once again, even if the shadows under his eyes were still too dark for your liking, and they stared into your own half lidded eyes. Other than the deep purple shadows, the ashen complex had started to even out, the sweat on his brow had faded away, and when you dropped your gaze, you noticed the twisting black veins were starting to recede and fade. Hells, you could get up and dance (very briefly before you passed out).

Even, with a foot in the grave, more dead than usual, and covered in both of your bloods he was unfairly beautiful. His eyes narrowed on your dopey smile, as if he your relief was a symptom of too much blood loss. If that was the effect of four swallows, just a little more would flush out the poison completely, "I can take it, love, just please let me help you."

Astarion never considered himself to be someone that had to be coaxed into receiving a gift, and you were offering him one so sweetly, practically begging him. After 200 years of rats and spiders, you had put literal magic in your veins for him. Magic that was bringing him back from death to his usual state of undead. He could feel it bringing his strength back, allowing all the magic the cleric and druid had poured into him to finally take some affect. Your blood, his first thinking blood, was always delicious- sweet and metallic, a delicate blend of all the good tastes, something so intrinsically you. With the potions infused, though, if Astarion was to hazard guess what sunlight tasted like- this would be it. How could he refuse?

Before he went back in, he placed a reverent kiss to the marks he had left in your neck, gingerly lapping at the wounds before sinking his fangs back into your tender flesh. This time, it wasn’t a gasp or sob, but a mewl, your frigid fingers once again digging into the flounced collar his shirt. If you both lived until morning, you were sure he’d gripe for hours about all the wrinkles you’d put in his favorite (only) shirt. Probably throw a proper fit about the stake hole.

Now, as the potions effects dwindled in your own body, you could properly feel the drain. The coldness crept up from your extremities but didn’t counteract the burn in your muscles, making it harder and harder to suppress the shivers. Your breathing was quick almost a pant, but you still felt like you weren't getting any oxygen. If you were thinking rationally, if you hadn’t gone through the brief grief of thinking you’d lost him, you would have realized you need to push him away, that you were approaching your limit. But you weren’t thinking rationally, no. You still were too busy grinning- as your hand had fallen from his collar, it grazed across the wound, now fully closed. Just a little more, you promised yourself. You felt him swallow more, he held himself up completely on his own allowing you to lean into him.

Astarion was okay, more than just on the mend, he was alive and strong, the potions and magic were working, were the thoughts that were reverberating through your head as things started to feel farther away. Your desperation had melted away, leaving a grateful smile in its wake. It wasn’t completely on purpose, but you let Astarion take on more and more of your weight, barely aware of his fangs in your neck anymore, not quite hearing Scratch and the cub whining outside, the shivering even began to subside as it seemed to take too much energy.

Earlier, you had drug him to you and held him against your chest almost crying. But, as more of your blood flowed through him, it had become juxtaposed. Astarion held you in place, leaning over you for the best angle at your neck. It was his arms that kept you from falling over, his firm hand that kept your head from lolling too far back. His bite became less fervent, his grip less cage like and more affectionate. His survival instincts started to give way to civility and charm. You barely noticed as he twisted himself so he could slowly, gently lay you down onto the bedroll that had moments ago been his sickbed. He laid you on your back, onto the generous stack of pillows he kept in his tent. He tangled his fingers into yours, just as you had done for him, his knees holding him in a predatory crawl over you, all without breaking from your neck.

Barely registering the softness, it was the thud of your other hand against the floor that roused you, just a bit. It was also what drew Astarion’s attention, it took everything in him to withdraw his fangs. He gave each puncture would a diligent cleaning with his tongue before pulling away completely, lest he lose control and dive right back in. (Really, how could one person be that tempting?)

But, you had arguably saved his life, it’d be terribly impolite of him to kill you. When Astarion’s eyes met yours, your gaze was more than half lidded as you watched him- what little of your eyes he could see were glossy and fighting to stay focused, he could hear your heartbeat markedly fainter than he was comfortable with.

You were watching him as intently as you could. In the dim lantern light of his tent, surrounded by potion bottles and bloody rags, Astarion was up and moving and breathing again. Revived and strong, his eyes practically glowing scarlet, and, if you really focussed, you could make out the tips of his ears becoming pink. Something that only happened when he was freshly well fed, nothing was left of his stab wound but the hole in his shirt, the frayed edges dyed from the poison and his blood. He could have looked like a angel, complete with the fire’s reflection creating a halo effect on his snowy curls, had it not been for the sheen of sticky blood drenching his chin and neck. Your blood- the blood that gave him enough strength to heal. How could you not smile?

Astarion tried to come up with a snarky comment, but for once, nothing came to mind. Instead, he kept glancing between your intertwined fingers, glassy eyes, and that idiotic little smile. Your giddiness was beginning to unnerve him, had you been charmed or perhaps taken a hit to the head? With the parasite, he reached out briefly into your mind. His brow twitched when he was only met with waves of relief and gratitude, you were too tired for structured thought, but too relieved to give into the exhaustion. How could someone on the verge on exsanguination look so happy? And why in the nine hells did it seem to be directed towards his well being?

The vampire was stricken, taking count of everything you’d truly done that night alone: fought beside him, tried to take the death blow in his place, comforted him, held his hand, cleaned him up, hadn’t let the others undress him anymore than necessary, stayed with him, circumvented his vampirism to find a way to heal him, and had genuinely tried to bleed yourself dry for him. Hell, you’d cut your own neck for him- not even metaphorically, but literally cut your throat for him. He could feel your warmth, your kindness and everything good about you settling into his very marrow. Something uncomfortably… gooey… stirred in his chest, something more and more worrying common as of late, when it came to you. Had his manipulation really worked so well? A feeling too close to sharp guilt gnawed at that warm gooey feeling. Was it really manipulation anymore? Gods, your morality was infecting him.

“This is that Insufferabe admirability I was talking about ." He muttered into the tent, shaking his head as he watched your chest rise and fall, using his free hand tame some of the hair at your crown. It was then Astarion realized your eyes had slipped shut, your fingers, now just as cold as his, going limp against his. Weeks ago, he would have polished off the last of your blood and left you behind. But at present, he felt the sickening need to return even half the care you’d shown him. He’d have to dissect his emotions later. The rogue was glad the other companions had left supplies within arms reach, as it meant he could gather them without dropping your hand.

"Ah, ah, ah," He called quietly, gently pulling you back to the real world, pleased to watch your scrunch your nose in the exertion of waking back up. Finally, that contented little smile on your face slipped into a frown, a protest against his interruption of your sleep. Astarion’s smile was almost apologetic as he helped you into a slightly more upright position, "Not quite yet, little love. It’s your turn. No sharing this time."

Another healing potion was pressed into your hand and opened for you, and you allowed Astarion to guide it to your lips, his pale hand guiding your own. This time, the warmth of the elixir was welcome, a comfort instead of a taunt, assurance instead of a plea. Astarion carefully watched you as you swallowed the potion down, noting how you shivered less and a bit of color returned to your face. When the potion bottle was empty, he traded it for a small cup of water, keeping a guiding hand on the silver chalice he’d nicked from a tradesmen weeks ago until you had enough strength to hold it.

Though still exhausted and dizzy, you had the energy to throw him an obstinate look. Astarion feigned a dramatic sigh but kept a firm enough grip on you that you couldn’t lay back down, "All this for me, yet you won’t even let me give you water?"

Ignoring how it made the dizziness worse, you rolled your eyes, taking a few sips of the water at a time even if it was mostly just so he’d let you lay back down. Astarion was in one piece and you were exhausted, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about anything else. But, Astarion seemed very pleased with himself, squeezing your hand once again, "Good girl."

If you weren’t on the verge of blood loss, you could have choked on the water. Still, there was a part of you that whispered in relief he must be better if he’s back to teasing you. Astarion watched you take a few more sips before you sagged back against the pillows. Your eyes closed again, but your breathing was deeper now and the hand he held didn’t feel as cold. Outside, Scratch and the cub seemed appeased at your improvement as they stopped their pacing and whining to settle at the tent flap.

This time, he didn’t pull you back up, instead muttering to himself as he gently tilted your head to the side, exposing his bite marks. No wonder you seemed so tired, they were much messier than usual. Vicious, was the better word. Not only had his two fangs pierced your delicate skin, but his bottom canine teeth had punctured through as well, and he could see the outline of his other teeth in the deep bruising grooves they had left behind. In unfortunate addition, it seemed in the height of his blood lust he’d made more than one bite, leaving your neck littered in marks. Astarion grimaced, it really was more of a mauling, “Apologies, darling, I’m not typically so brutish. Forgive me?"

Astarion pointedly ignored how his heart lifted at the slightest nod you gave him, instead focussing on cleaning you up as gently as possible. The potion had stopped the bleeding, and he watched as the wounds themselves were slowly closing. Each swipe of the rag was feather light, almost not even there. The elf noticed you give back into sleep, this time not bothering to wake you again. Instead he kept working and fussing until the only sign of his feeding was the stained neckline of your shirt. Then, he gently ran a clean, wet rag over your face and hands, taking away the evidence of your tears and worry. Finally, he threw a cloak over you like a blanket, to hopefully ward off the last of the shivers from the warmth he’d stolen from you.

Not stolen, he reminded himself, though the truth somehow felt more dangerous, it was freely given to him. The vampire settled in, laying across from you, the only part of you he could touch was the hand still holding his. Though, already in your sleep you had shifted towards him. Astarion frowned, eyebrows furrowed, the more he came to know you, the more he knew that you would give and give and give. Truly, he knew that he didn’t need to manipulate you anymore, maybe he never needed to, and for the first time in centuries, he didn’t want to just keep taking. He didn’t want to bleed you dry and loot you for all you were worth. Astarion was surprised to find he wanted give something back to you. He just needed to figure out what.

The nights events caught up to him once again as his eyes closed, listening to the evermore familiar sound of your heartbeat as it became steadier and the even sounds of your breathing as you slept, letting it guide him towards meditation.

Gods damn you and your insufferable admirability.

___

Part Two Here!

Again this was my first time writing for Astarion. I also tried to balance things into being equal parts in each persons perspective. I just love when two lovestruck idiots have to confront their own feelings about being in love.

#me when I can use both literal and metaphorical vampirism as an allegory of being consumed by love.#astarion x reader #astarion x you #Astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion fanfic #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 fanfic #Astarion self insert

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steddiewithachance · 4 months

Text

In Your Dreams

Steve has a good dream about Eddie. Eddie fights a blush as he is forced to sit and listen to Steve tell him all about it. Part one is SFW!

Part One • Part Two

***

Eddie startles when he hears someone knock on his window. He flails and clutches his chest. Outside, Steve smiles smugly and does his little wiggly finger wave. Eddie takes a deep breath before pushing the glass open so that he can talk through the dusty screen.

“Jesus Steve, I have trauma. You’re not allowed to scare me.”

“Sorry Eds. I did try your door first but I was ignored. Are you busy?”

“Never too busy for you, darling.” He teases and then nods his head towards the front door. Steve starts walking back around the house.

When Eddie whips open the front door, Steve is jogging up the porch steps with a spring in his step. He’s wearing a sweater that Eddie always compliments him on. It's black, maybe the only black item of clothing that Steve owns. It’s tight and it just looks so mouth-wateringly good on his chest and arms… not that he’s expressed the mouth-watering part to Steve, he usually just says, ‘I like that sweater, man. It suits you.’

“You’re wearing the sweater.” Eddie pokes him in the chest.

“I know, your favorite.” Steve wiggles his eyebrows and pushes past him into the trailer towards Eddie’s room.

Eddie gets a whiff of cologne in his wake. Fuck. There go his chances of functioning normally around Steve this afternoon. He follows Steve down the hall in a daze.

When he enters Eddie’s room, Steve kicks off his shoes and launches himself forward onto the bed with a grunt. He wiggles around to get comfortable.

“Hi.” Steve says after he has settled and Eddie wants to punch a hole in the wall because he’s so goddamn cute. Eddie could write poetry about how it feels to have Steve drop by unannounced just wanting to spend time with him. Steve has done this a handful of times, laid across Eddie’s bed and made easy conversation while Eddie messes with his guitar or works on a project. Ed just feels so childishly giddy and warm every time it happens.

Steve points to the jacket Eddie had been painting on his desk. “What are you working on?”

Eddie turns and reaches for Wayne’s old denim jacket. Wayne’s been so precious about all of Eddie’s artwork since spring break. Eddie thinks his near-death experience really hit Wayne in ways he hadn’t expected it to. Now Wayne is asking to keep all the doodles that Eddie shows him like he’s cherishing everything deeply just in case Eddie suddenly disappears again. Eddie doesn’t mind, he thinks he owes Wayne for everything he put his old man through this year.

Wayne asked Eddie to paint on one of his favorite jackets. He had no specific requests so Eddie’s painting a landscape over the left shoulder. He hands Steve the photo he’s using as a reference.

“It’s a gift for my uncle. The inspiration was the background of that photo of him as a kid, except I’m painting it in color, obviously.” Eddie holds the jacket up so Steve can look between the reference and the jacket. It’s a wide valley with jagged mountains framing the tall grass.

“That’s so fucking sweet Eddie. You’re a sweetheart.” Steve hands the photo back and looks up at him with sparkling eyes. Eddie nearly blushes, he turns around before he can give Steve the satisfaction of seeing that.

“So, any particular reason you stopped by? Did you just want company?” Eddie lays the jacket back down carefully and sticks his paintbrushes in the mug of murky water placed beside them. Steve is quiet for a moment, so Eddie turns to see what sort of expression he’s wearing. He’s looking at Eddie with dark thoughtful eyes, chewing on his lip.

“Wanted to tell you about a dream I had.” He finally says and flips onto his back, cushioning his head with his hands.

“Uh oh, nightmare?” Eddie sits down beside Steve, leveling him with an empathetic frown. They’ve had a lot of conversations about nightmares. Steve admitted that it’s easier to talk to Eddie about them than anyone else. Steve feels a responsibility to appear strong around the rest of the party: unaffected.

“No, not a nightmare this time. This was a good dream.” The corner of Steve’s lip twitches, like it’s a joke Eddie’s not in on. Is he about to tell Eddie about a wet dream he had or something? Eddie is suddenly uncomfortable by how little space there is between them. He jumps up.

He awkwardly moves to lean on the desk and then restlessly slides into his desk chair again, as ungraceful as ever. He cringes at his own unnerving behavior.

“Oh… that- that’s good.” Eddie’s voice cracks.

“You were there,” Steve tells him. His voice has gone all sultry. Eddie’s heart is pounding. Oh, Jesus Christ.

“Oh yeah?” he barely manages to croak out.

“We were right here, on your bed.” Steve carries on. He stretches a leg out and presses his socked foot against the inside of Eddie’s thigh. He uses his foot to swivel Eddie around so they’re facing each other fully. Eddie must be bright red. He rubs his face aggressively.

This is territory that they have never come near to crossing into. Eddie barely even jokingly flirts with Steve anymore. He received one too many knowing glances from various party members.

“Ah yeah. I get the picture Steve, you don’t have to go on.” It’s partly muffled by his clammy palms. How is this real? In what world is Steve Harrington willingly hitting on Eddie Munson? In what universe does Steve have sweet dreams about him?

“Oh yeah? Tell me what you think happened next then.” Steve challenges, Eddie can hear the amusement in his voice.

“I dunno.” Eddie peaks through his hands to see Steve is all splayed out, sweater riding up, hair haloed around him sweetly. Evil, he’s evil.

“Use your creativity, Eds. I know you can do it.”

“Steve, please,” Eddie shrinks into himself in embarrassment.

“You started undressing me. Took your sweet time too.” Steve starts pushing the sweater up his stomach with a seductive slide of his hand. Eddie’s pretty sure this afternoon is going to haunt him for the rest of his life. He swallows loudly like a love-sick cartoon character.

“I’d let you, you know? Right now if you wanted to.” Steve bats his eyelashes at Eddie. Now’s your time to act, you virgin idiot. Do something! Say something, he urges himself. But he’s paralyzed.

When Eddie makes no move to get up from his desk chair, Steve scoots off the bed and stands over Eddie. Walks right up so that he’s got one of Eddie’s legs between his own. He grabs Eddie’s chin and pulls his face up.

Eddie blinks up at him nervously. Sure he’s heard loads about the Steve Harrington charm, but having it directed at him is heady and overwhelming. He’s not confident enough to enjoy it. Steve’s hand twitches and his expression falters slightly.

“Or… sorry, do you not want me? Robin thought- well, nevermind. Did I read you wrong?” Steve is giving him uncertain, puppy dog eyes. He wonders how anyone has ever said no to Steve’s pretty eyes.

Eddie would be an idiot to pass up an opportunity like this. But the fact of the matter is, he’s scared. He’s scared to disappoint and scared because he has no idea what he’s doing. He’s scared because he doesn’t know what Steve expects from him. He doesn’t want to blow his only shot at this.

“No, I do. I want you,” Eddie assures him. He swallows and rests a shaky hand on Steve’s hip. “I worry I won't live up to Dream-Eddie, though. He seems like a charming fellow.”

Steve smiles and hooks a finger in the collar of Eddie’s shirt.

“I guess you have your work laid out for you then. You’re competitive, right?” Steve pulls Eddie to his feet so they're standing, beating hearts pressed together. Eddie wants to curve away, embarrassed by the absurdity of how fast his heart rate must feel.

Steve trails gentle hands up the lengths of Eddie’s arms. Eddie does his damndest to suppress the shiver he gets. Steve slides his fingers into the sleeves of Eddie’s t-shirt and wraps his hands around Eddie’s biceps.

“Flex.” Steve demands, and looks up at Ed through long pretty eyelashes. It takes Eddie a second to realize what he’s asking. He belatedly tightens his arm muscles and Steve squeezes with a satisfied little grin. He hums appreciatively.

Steve slides out of Ed’s sleeves and continues upward to wrap his arms around Eddie's neck, gently sweeping hair out of the way. It brings them impossibly close. They’re sharing air now, it’s expensive Steve Harrington air. It’s a commodity. It tastes like Eddie’s about to get his first kiss.

Eddie suddenly remembers that he has arms and Steve is probably waiting for him to use them. A million different ways Eddie could touch him, flash behind his eyes like a montage of all of his sweetest daydreams.

Eddie isn’t really sure what possesses him, then. He doesn’t think too much about it. He just slides his hands into Steve’s back pockets, and he fucking squeezes. Oh god.

Steve’s mouth drops open; he lets out a soft surprised huff. His cheeks are flushed, and his big brown eyes bounce between Eddie’s.

Steve moves to cradle either side of Eddie’s jaw, pushing a thumb into one of his cheeks. Eddie must look confused by that because Steve whispers, “dimple,” before tilting his head and surging forward to catch Eddie’s lips.

Eddie’s heart jumps when he feels Steve’s pillowy lips seal against his. The kiss is heated, insistent from the get go. Steve sets an ambitious pace, pushing and pulling, and Eddie is doing his best to follow his lead.

Steve’s big hands are framing his face, keeping him in place, and the smell of his summery cologne is giving Eddie butterflies.

Eddie can’t help himself, he reaches up with a shaky hand to gently thread his fingers through the ends of Steve’s hair. He misses twice because Steve is writhing against him as the kiss picks up in intensity. When he finally gets a handful of hair, he sighs. It’s so soft, he wants to run it along his face.

Meanwhile, he tries not to feel embarrassed about the loud smacking sounds of their lips breaking apart and the deep exhales from their noses pressed into each other’s cheeks.

Eddie jolts backwards when Steve’s tongue licks across the inside of Eddie’s bottom lip. Steve pulls away unwillingly, voicing a hum of dissatisfaction. He opens his eyes to behold Eddie’s undoing; Ed can only imagine what he looks like right now. His cheeks are probably splotchy and red, eyes wide, looking a mess.

“What are you acting so shy for?” Steve chuckles and pulls Eddie in by the waist. He presses a few more smiley tight-lipped kisses from corner to corner of Eddie’s mouth, switching the tilt of his head to maneuver around Eddie’s nose.

When he pulls back again, Eddie covers his face by crossing strands of hair in front of it to hide his smile.

“So shy! You’re acting like it’s your first kiss or something!” Steve exclaims playfully.

Eddie feels his face drop and heart sink like someone just cast an anchor and dragged his confidence along with it. Is that why Steve made a move? He was expecting Eddie to be just as experienced and adept?

“Yeah, I mean… it is. It is my first.” He whispers and steps back until his thighs hit his desk. He crosses his arms in front of himself and wonders how unappealing he just became in Steve’s eyes. He could have lied maybe, but the jig was up as soon as Steve kissed him. Eddie has no idea what he’s doing.

Steve’s shoulders drop, his eyebrows furrow. Eddie Munson: ruining moods since ‘65.

“Oh, no shit? You’ve never kissed anyone?” Steve grabs Eddie’s elbow.

“Well, I have now.” He responds with a pout. Steve steps back and runs hands down his face.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry Eddie, I didn’t know! I feel a dick for coming on so strong now.” Steve’s eyes are wide and apologetic.

“I had no idea, I swear. It’s just, you walk around swaying your little hips and smirking at people like you’re some sort of… sex god. Or something.”

“Sex god?!” A loud laugh is startled out of Eddie. Now it’s Steve’s turn to look embarrassed.

“You’re usually so confident! I dunno! You’re the freak! I thought you were a freak.”

“Nah, man. You’re a freak, Harrington. You come into my home and start insisting we act out your sex dream…” Eddie pulls him in and squeezes his sides so that he knows Eddie’s only teasing.

“Sorry, Eddie. We can do a do-over of your first kiss. I’ll be softer.” Steve leans in and nuzzles into Eddie’s neck. He presses a kiss against the silver chain that rests there.

“C’mere, Handsome” Eddie whispers and pulls Steve into a sweeter kiss. This time it’s delicate, indulgent. He luxuriates in the drag of Steve’s lips every time they pull apart. He winds his arms under Steve’s to rest palms against his broad swimmer shoulders. It’s a dream, kissing Steve Harrington. How lucky he should be to experience it twice. He wonders what Steve’s dream was like.

“Tell me what happened in your dream?” Eddie asks between tender kisses. Steve drags them over to sit on the edge of his bed together. He gives Ed one last lingering press of his lips before responding.

“You were sweet, kind of a tease. I liked it.”

“I was a sex god?” Eddie cracks a wide smile and Steve reaches to smooth over one of Eddie’s dimples.

“Shut uppp. I shouldn’t have said that. You’ll never let it go.”

“I’m just as dismayed as you are, Sunshine. I also wish I was a sex god.” Eddie flops back on the bed and Steve crawls over, following him up. Eddie lowers his chin to watch. Steve lays his weight on top of Eddie and it feels so good.

Eddie runs eager hands all over him. “Are you still interested in me despite my lack of experience, or…?” Eddie asks him. He feels Steve nod eagerly into his neck, and Eddie sighs in relief.

“Well where do you wanna start, Sunshine?”

I could be persuaded into writing a part 2 if the people wanted... Otherwise I hope you enjoyed ◡̈

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fluff #virgin eddie munson #steve harrington is a flirt #steve loves eddies dimples #should I write a part 2 #steddiewithachance

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simpcityy · 10 months

Text

I'm Not Her Pt.2 (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This short One-Shot has made it into a series! Read part one please to understand the prompt better. (Linked Below)

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad for now. Other dimensional Miguel… Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

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You woke up to the smell of bacon being cooked. Odd? Who is cooking if no one is home. Sitting up from your bed, you glanced at the time seeing it was 10am. Walking out of the room the smell of bacon got stronger. In front of you was your father Miguel cooking breakfast. You quickly rubbed your eyes wanting to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “Buenos días, cariño*” Miguel glances back at you hearing the creek of the floorboards. You only stood there in shock. He’s home for once and calling you with love and affection. “I…Um…good morning?” You finally replied back sitting down on the chair slowly. He placed a plate in front of you and took a seat across from you. “(Y.N) …Escucha, sé que no soy el mejor padre*.” He began. “I know I left you all on your own, but I have to man up and fix my mistakes.” He looks at you before slowly holding your hand “and I know it won’t be easy, but I’ll try my best.” He smiles before slowly releasing your hand. You only stood there stunned thinking about it. Did Lyla talk to him? Did Peter? So many thoughts were running around your head before letting out a sigh. “I …what made you have a change of heart…you know that yesterday was my- “he cuts you off, “I know it was your birthday and I’m sorry” he pulls out a box from under the table. You were so shocked about this new side of your dad that you didn’t even see the box when you sat down. “Happy Late Birthday “he smiles, sliding the box towards you. You slowly open it inside before gasping seeing the latest technology you’ve always wanted. You dug your hand till it hit the bottom and saw a ticket to your favorite concert. “How did you know I wanted this? I always begged you to let me see this singer, but you wouldn’t hear me out…I…” you are feeling so many emotions. “I told you I was going to try my best to fix this” he smiles before letting out a grunt as you tackle him into a hug “thank you! Thank you!” You chanted. Miguel only lets out a small smile rubbing your back affectionately. You let him go and walked to the top cabinet grabbing a glass to fill. “let’s have breakfast before you head to work “you smile enjoying this small moment with him. Maybe your wish did come true, to stop feeling alone.

You walked down the halls of your high school. It was going to be your last year and you promised your friends you were going to make it a blast. Humming out a song you unlocked your locker. “Hey boo you’re in a much better mood.” Lyla appeared inside your locker snapping a selfie with you. “Glad you’re here, did you talk to my dad?” You asked her while collecting the items you’ll need on this day. “ wha? No, I didn’t. Why do you ask?” She looks at the selfie editing it. “He came home and made breakfast. He also got me tickets for the concert.” You smile enthusiastically looking at the AI. Lyla watches you “he did?” She was concerned, if she remembered correctly…Miguel was at the base this morning working but then again, he did slip out for a moment so maybe that’s where he went. Lyla only smiles “I’m so glad boo! Maybe Peter talked with him?” You nodded “I was thinking the same. Alright, I got to go Lyla.” You closed the locker going on to continue your education. Lyla stood in the pitch dark of the locker in deep thought “I’ll have to talk to Miguel” she mutters before disappearing.

School for once was a day you enjoyed, maybe it has to do with the fact you're slowly getting your father back. You’ll have to thank Peter once you get the chance to visit the Society HQ. You start to wonder what made him realize he has a daughter here. All this thinking made you hungry, spotting your favorite empanada stand. You walked over and got in line. ‘Maybe I’ll order extra to bring home’ you thought before smiling, giving your order to the kind old lady. Once you reached home, you closed the door behind you. “Are you home?” You call out placing the bag on the table. “Ya has vuelto de la escuela*?” Miguel emerges from the kitchen door. He glances at the bag. “Y eso?” He walked over looking into the box. “ I got you some empanadas” You smile before letting it falter seeing him sniff the bag. His face of disgust was present, “I’m not hungry, you eat it.” He quickly replaces the face of disgust into a smile. Something wasn’t right here, he loved empanadas. He would never reject it. “But it’s your favorite?” You sat down and grabbed a couple for yourself. Miguel grabs a glass of water, his back turned to you. He panicked for a bit before adding on, “Yes but I think I ate too many last time that it just makes me dislike it” He walks over rubbing your head, “It will go away and I’ll go back to liking them okay?” He pressed his lips to the side of your head before sitting down next to you. “Cómo fue tu día en la escuela*?” He asked. You only nodded taking his excuse before smiling, feeling his lip on the side of your head. “ It went well!” You ate the empanada while telling him how your day went.

Lyla stood behind Miguel watching him work away. “Hey Miguel” She appears in front of him. “Quick question” Miguel looks up at her and only grunts telling her to go on. “That was nice of you to get (Y/N) tickets to the concert” She sits on his shoulder waiting for his response. His answer only made her glitch and worried for you.

“What tickets?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Authors Note: Thank you so much! Your comments and likes made me see how this NEEDED to be a series. I'm still working on the other two projects hopefully next week I'll be able to complete the series for Location Status. So, I can focus on my other projects. Sorry for any grammar on the first part, I was using a tablet and it was all new to me. Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 66💕) Thank you for the likes and reblogs! Please reblog so others can be aware of my works! ILY 💕

Spanish Translation: (Remember some have double meaning or similar meaning) 1. “Buenos días, cariño: Good Morning Sweetie 2. Escucha, sé que no soy el mejor padre: Listen, I know I'm not the best father (Dad) 3. Ya has vuelto de la escuela: Are you back from school? 4. Y eso: And that or whats that? 5. Cómo fue tu día en la escuela: How was your day at school?

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara fic #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #father figure miguel ohara #miguel ohara x platonic reader #miguel ohara x daughter reader

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tuhtofu · 9 months

Note

What about….

Childe who is obsessed with your smell. Wether that’s your perfume, deodorant, or your natural body odor. He would for example steal your perfume and pleasure himself to the smell of it. To the smell of you

a/n: I’ve been riding this train for as long as I’ve known Childe. I just feel like he fits perfectly into the filthy, obsessive masochistic loser trope... So I obviously got carried away writing this.

It’s one of Childe’s favorite not-so-guilty pleasures. He goes out of his way to follow you around town stealthily, writing down the items you buy from each store you visit.

He decides to go on his own special trip afterwards, focusing specifically on items that can replicate your presence, such as clothes, shampoos and body sprays.

There’s nothing wrong with admiring a friend in this way, he tries to convince himself. Nothing’s weird about… spraying your perfume or cologne on a shirt that looks just like yours.

And what’s so wrong about placing them on his pillow and sniffing them while he ruts his bare cock on his bed?

Childe likes to imagine he’s laying on your chest, humping the soft flesh of your thighs as you run your perfect fingers along his hair. He shuts his eyes tightly as he moans into the cloth, inhaling it like it’s his last source of oxygen as he thinks about how you’d degrade him with a teasing voice so seductive he could cum from it alone.

“Does my pathetic little pup feel good?” you’d ask, and he’d whine into his gag, nodding frantically as his teary eyes would look into your own.

Would you force him to stop just as he’s tapering over the edge? Perhaps you’d let him cum at first, only to command him to continue fucking into your plush thighs until he couldn’t think anymore… Fuck, it’s all too much for him to think about.

He loves letting his mind wander like this, mumbling self-degrading words into thin air as a reminder of just how much of a loser he is, all while he’s emptying his balls onto his bed, adding to the filthy cum stains already on it.

Now... What if Childe was your partner? Well, he would go crazy.

Convincing you to live with him wouldn’t be too hard, not when he has the funds to provide for the both of you. However, try as he might, he’s unable to keep his perversion undercover.

The thrill of having access to your laundry was like no other. No longer would he have to make do with those stupid items he went out of his way to acquire. He had your things, right in front of him! This wasn’t even comparable to the battles he’s fought in his lifetime.

The first time it happened, he waited for you to leave the house, before sprinting to the bathroom. There was not an ounce of shame to be found in his body, not when he was filled to the brim with adrenaline. He got on his knees and began to dig through your used laundry, finding the one thing he’d dreamt about for months; your underwear.

How long did you wear them for? What did you do while wearing them? Did you pleasure yourself in these? Fight with him? God, it doesn’t even matter, because the first whiff alone would make his eyes roll back into his skull, pants already too tight for comfort.

His desperation would only increase with time. Your underwear and shirts would slowly disappear from the pile of laundry, the reason, unbeknownst to you, being that he just couldn’t get enough of them.

Scurrying into the bedroom and leaving those precious items when you came home didn’t cut it anymore. Childe would start to bring them into his room, pulling all nighters just to abuse his poor cock, filling your underwear with load after load and drooling at the combination of scents.

Catching him was inevitable, but perhaps… it was what he wished for. Maybe the excruciating spanks you delivered to his bare ass as you gagged him with the underwear he came into was something he had already been dreaming of. It was supposed to be his punishment, but his worship for you only increased tenfold.

After a while, his perversion would grow on you. It was a little entertaining, to watch just how low he’d stoop for you, just how far his obsession went.

Childe promised that he would do anything if you indulged him. He’d be a slave to your word, a most devoted boyfriend to his perfect partner, and with that, you developed a new-found enjoyment in his filthy fantasies.

Your smell was his salvation. There was nothing more perfect than the musky body odor adorning you after a long workout, and nothing more pleasurable to Childe than taking in each and every ounce of you in that state.

The smell of your armpits, the delicious sweat on your body, and more importantly, your taste… It was nothing short of pure heaven.

His mouth craved nothing more than to clean each crevice, and to make sure that your cum was added to the beautiful mess Childe loved oh so much.

Wearing your underwear for multiple days in a row became a habit, all for the sake of watching Childe sniff them so pathetically, so desperately from the source, as his cock lay snug between your feet, rutting into the makeshift hole like a dog in heat.

For a harbinger, he didn’t have a lot of pride when it came to you, but why would he? The reality was that no matter what title accompanied him, in the end, he was nothing but your dog.

#i lowkey relate to childe in this #dom reader #sub character #sub childe #gn reader #genshin smut #sub tartaglia #dom!reader #sub genshin impact #genshin impact

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lipglossanon · 9 months

Text

Because

☆───── ⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆ ─────☆

puppy!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

Shoutout to all of those who gave me the inspo! There are many anons and mutuals; the few I can remember are 🐶 anon, @rusty-phasma, and 🪷 anon

big kisses to everyone not listed as well; you guys are all amazing and thank you for encouraging me! 😭 💜

Warnings: 18+, puppy!leon, hybrid!leon, pet/owner dynamics, eager Leon, switch Leon, kissing, licking, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), collar and leash play, mounting, knotting, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, reader says no but doesn’t really mean it so slight noncon if that’s triggering

Not proofread ✍️

Title from Because by Alice Cooper (cover of the original Beatles version)

☆───── ⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆ ─────☆

“He’s so cute!”

“Oh, he’s just adorable.”

“What’s his name?”

You let the chatter of strangers disappear into the background when bypassing the mall’s pet shop window as you walk to the parking garage.

“Thinking about adopting him?”

High pitched laughter, “With those list of issues, no way!”

“Thought you said he was cute!”

“He is, just not that cute.”

Frowning to yourself, you turn to see what new addition they added to the storefront to garner so much attention.

Oh.

He is cute.

You glare at the retreating backs of the group of people laughing and giggling as they walk away from the window. You step closer, now that you’re able, and just watch the hybrid as he tinkers with something in his hands. He looks really sweet, blue eyes almost shielded by his sandy blonde fringe.

You step a little closer and he tilts his head to the side before raising it all the way to look up at you. He smiles, floppy ears perking up on his head as his tail wags. Internally, you’re yelling at yourself not to do it, but you find yourself looking down at the little page of information taped to the glass.

“Leon, huh?” you murmur, eyes glancing over at him before going back to the paper.

You can understand why they were snickering to themselves; he’s never had an owner and looks like there’s still a lot of room for improvement since he’s not fully house broken yet. Your eyes skim through the rest, but it’s just height, weight, etc.

Turning back to him, you see that he has moved closer to the glass, eyes watching you excitedly.

“Leon,” you mouth at him and he nods, stepping up to the window and placing his hands on it.

Sighing to yourself, you hope you don’t regret this later, you place your hand on the glass with him repeating the gesture.

You smile at him and his tail wags back and forth so fast it’s almost a blur.

“Hi.”

You adopt Leon on the spot, probably the most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done in your life. The clerk helps you with all of the paperwork, happy the hybrid wouldn’t be stuck here too long. He informs you of the do’s and don’ts of hybrid care, giving you a folder full of information as well as a little duffle of items.

“He’s excitable so you’ll have some issues with him trying to run off. I’d keep him leashed til you get home,” the clerk hands you a leash, leading you to the back where Leon was taken as you filled out the application.

“Hi,” his smile makes one appear on your face.

“Hi, Leon, you’re coming home with me today.”

He dashes across the room startling you as he pulls you into a bear hug.

“I’m so lucky, you’re so pretty and smell so good, and—“

“Leon,” the clerk’s firm voice cuts him off, quickly slipping a collar on his neck.

Leon’s ears droop and he scuffs the floor with his shoe, “Sorry miss.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur where the clerk can’t hear, “I know you’re just happy.”

His ears perk up and tail starts to wag, “Yeah, yeah I really am.”

Leon bares his neck to you for you to snap the leash clip on his collar. He preens as you lead him out of the store and through the mall. Luckily you were headed home to begin with, so taking Leon straight there isn’t an issue. He behaves the entire drive home much to your relief, a little worried about what the clerk meant by excitable.

You find yourself falling into an easy pattern with Leon; he’s a fast learner, so he adapted to your routine pretty quickly. The housebroken issue resolved itself (he just never lived with anyone before so they had to say that on the form). He enjoys having his own separate room and loves taking baths.

Leon even helps with chores around the house so by the time you’re home from work, you can cook a light meal for the two of you and relax on the couch. He always waits for you by the door, eagerly pressing against you and licking your neck and face in greeting.

Today’s routine jars you when coming home, there isn’t a happy Leon waiting at the door. Frowning to yourself, you kick off your shoes and drop your bag on the counter.

“Leon?” you call out.

Walking further into the house, you pass by your half closed door and hear whining. You pause and peek past the door frame, surprise making your eyes wide.

Discarded knotting toys from the pet shop lay scattered all over the floor— obviously used recently as they’re all dripping with jizz. Looking over you can see Leon completely naked on the bed, buried in a pile of your clothes as he ruts into a toy. He looks fucked out already, hazy eyed and tongue lolled out, panting.

“Leon,” you murmur, stepping inside the room.

“Miss owner,” he whines, tail thumping against the bed, tears making his blue eyes seem bigger, “‘m sorry for making a mess. Hurts.”

Your heart beats fast as you take in his pitiful face.

“It’s okay, it looks like a rut or heat of some kind,” you keep your voice soft, stepping up to the bed to ruffle his ears.

He whines again, pressing up into your touches as hips keep humping into his toy, before looking at you with big eyes, “Oh no, oh I’m—“

He growls and you watch as his cock knots the toy, cum bubbling out of the sleeve until it’s spilling down the sides and coating your shirts and panties underneath.

“Leon,” you watch dumbfounded as he ruts down, smearing the cum across your underwear specifically.

“Smell so good, miss,” he moans, dilated eyes staring at the hem of your skirt, “makes me wanna—”

“No, Leon,” your voice is firm, “the toys are okay, but you can’t be… doing this every time, okay? This is my bed and clothes and it’s just inappropriate.”

He whimpers, head ducking down as he shrinks in on himself.

Your hand hesitates but you softly brush his fuzzy ears, “Hey, I’m not mad, Leon. We just need to learn boundaries, okay? This is a very,” you pause trying to think of a way to say it.

“Personal moment,” you gently move his head to look up at you, “I don’t want you to feel bad for something natural.”

“Not mad?” he sniffles, tail sluggishly wagging.

You smile and pet him more, “Not mad, baby. You’re such a good boy for me.”

He smiles through his tears, “Love being your good boy, miss.”

Your eyes drop to the mess covering your sheets and he flushes hotly.

“I’m gonna clean it up, just,” he trails off embarrassed, “I have to wait for my knot to go down.”

“That’s okay,” you stroke his ears one last time and step back, walking to the door, “I’ll go make dinner, just clean up and meet me at the table.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs, tail beating against the bed.

A week goes by and there isn’t another incident, although you’re sure you’re missing some clothing items but you can’t for the life of you figure out what.

Leon’s whines and whimpers can be heard throughout the house late at night, disrupting your sleep but you don’t have the heart to tell him to stop. He’s already mentioned how painful it can be if he goes too long without any relief.

After endless google and Reddit searches, you’re at your wits end on how to help. The answers are all over the place but all agree that the toys are a temporary fix. You stumble across a thread run by hybrids themselves with much more informative and helpful answers. You bite the bullet and post your question to the page under a throwaway account. In no time at all, you have dozens then hundreds of replies.

Aside from the silly joke or meme answers, you get a lot of information, all of it basically saying you should offer your hybrid help with his rut. A simple handjob can stave off urges for weeks at a time. You bite your thumb nail as you read the more steamy answers, feeling a pulse of arousal throb in your clit at picturing Leon in such a way.

You hold off but by the end of the second week of Leon looking miserable, you finally cave and offer to help him (your own bubbling arousal and curiosity peaking). His eyes light up and you gesture for him to sit down on the couch.

“Only my hand, Leon. And if you misbehave then you’re going to be sent to your room.”

“Promise I’ll be a good boy,” he nods so hard one of his ears flip backwards making you giggle.

He smiles at you and licks your cheek, “So pretty, miss owner.”

“Leon,” you roll your eyes feeling shy, “sit next to me so I can help you.”

He quickly undresses and sits down, thigh pressing against yours, legs easily falling open as his cock bobs and leaks everywhere.

Whining, he nuzzles into your shoulder, “s’this okay?”

You hum, “Yeah, you’re okay, Leon.”

Your hand reaches out and grasps his hot throbbing dick, making him arch up with a sigh. Biting your lip, you try to ignore how much you’re getting turned on from this.

“Thank you,” he mouths at your skin, “thank you so much, promise to be so good for you.”

You suppress the shiver those words give you and slowly stroke along his thick cock.

“You’re really big,” you mutter out loud before thinking twice.

He groans, “That’s good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you laugh softly, “it’s very good, means you’ll feel good inside someone.”

His cock kicks in your hand, globs of precum dripping from the tip to coat your fingers. You lick your lips and tease across his fat tip, coaxing more precum to dribble out.

He pants and whines into your shoulder as you tease him, dragging out your quick handjob into something that edges him for hours.

He’s slurring and whining against you, shoulder and neck soaked with his spit as he laps and licks at the skin he can reach.

“Miss owner, I wanna cum, I’ve been such a good boy,” he whimpers, “wanna knot your hand, please. You said I could.”

“Not yet,” you’re so turned out, your panties are wet and sticky with slick, “wanna see how long you can last.”

He growls and whimpers but lets you keep teasing his cock, playing with the head before feathering your fingers across his balls and knot.

You watch as tears drip down his cheeks when he clenches his eyes shut. Feeling a little bad for him, you pick up your pace and jerk him off, getting a little rougher in your movement.

“Oh, oh, that’s so good,” he mumbles, “gonna knot you, gonna knot my sweet owner.”

Your thighs clench together trying to alleviate the want building in your core. He growls and grunts as he pushes up into your fist, knot bumping against your fingers as it gets bigger.

Snarling against your shoulder, he humps the tight tunnel of your fingers until sticky cum spurts from his tip, coating your hand as it drips down onto his knot and sac.

“Good boy, Leon,” you keep your voice warm and soft, “you did so good for me.”

He keens in the back of his throat and nuzzles your spit covered skin.

“Thank you, I feel better,” he sighs happily, ears drooping as he yawns, “gonna take a bath.”

“Okay,” you reply as he shuffles to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom.

You listen for the door to click before you bring your hand up to your mouth. Just pure curiosity is what you tell yourself as you press two cum covered fingers into your mouth. A moan slips past your lips as Leon’s salty flavor coats your tongue.

Your phone buzzing jolts you from your illicit deed, arousal and shame warring in your chest as you quickly head to the sink to wash your hands. You look into your own eyes through the mirror; you were just curious that’s all, you project to yourself.

100% nosey curiosity.

So what if you got even wetter at tasting Leon’s thick cum.

Now that you know what it’s like in your mouth, you’ll never have to think about it again.

Totally not a big deal.

Period.

Hours later as you lay in bed, glaring at your watch face reading 2:37am, that little voice of doubt chimes in that maybe it was a big deal after all.

You muffle a groan into your pillow, tossing and turning until you can find a comfortable spot. That Reddit page said you could offer a lot more than just your hand.. is the last thought you have before you finally succumb to the sweet embrace of sleep.

The next morning Leon is rousing you much too early for four hours of sleep.

“But you said we could go to the park today,” he pouts, his blue eyes pleading.

“I did, didn’t I?” you sigh to yourself, scrubbing a hand over your sleep filled eyes, “alright, I’m up.”

“Thank you,” he jumps onto the bed, tongue lapping at your cheek making you giggle.

“Leon!” you laugh harder as he crawls completely on top of you, pinning you down to lick across your jaw and ear.

“Thank you so, so much,” he hums against you, mouth panting as he licks across the seam of your lips.

“Leon, don’t—“

Your words are drowned out as he licks into your mouth, sloppy puppy spit dripping all down your lips and chin. Whining, you try to push him off but he has your arms pressed down into the blankets.

He hums louder, tongue now slowly lapping into your mouth making you squirm underneath him. Moaning, you go limp as his tongue flutters against yours, drooling all in your mouth so much you swallow it down before you choke. He takes it as a sign you like it, making sure to drip even more puppy spit into your mouth.

Your nipples tingle as he deepens the sloppy make out, Leon rocking his hips down onto you as he keeps up the slow motion of pressing his tongue in and out of your mouth. When you shift your thighs, you can feel how your wet panties cling to your cunt.

Moaning, you start to suck on Leon’s thick tongue, crossing that imaginary line you drew for yourself. You want this so why not let yourself have it? Leon notices the change and excitedly presses his mouth closer, now using his lips to messily kiss you instead of just licking into your mouth.

At some point, Leon shifts enough for you to move your arms, but you only bring them up to tangle in his hair—being mindful of his soft ears. You sigh and mewl as he gets more aggressive, teeth nipping your lips before fucking his tongue roughly into your mouth. After deep, sloppy, spit filled kisses, Leon finally pulls away.

“God, you smell so good,” he pants and chuffs against your neck.

“W-what,” you clear your throat, feeling all out of sorts, “what about the park?”

“Can we still go?” his ears perk up, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, but I need to get dressed.”

“Will you wear that pretty dress?” Leon leans up to look at you bashfully.

You squint up at him, a confused smile on your face, “Sure, I guess. If the weather is nice enough.”

His tail wags, “It is! I’m gonna go get my collar.”

He scrambles off the bed and beelines it for his room, leaving your door open. You sigh and stare up at the ceiling for a moment, feeling like you should take a cold shower.

Lugging yourself out of bed, you grab your change of clothes and head into the en suite bathroom. You finish your ablutions and change—shooting yourself a thumbs up in the mirror as you leave the bathroom.

Stepping back into your room, Leon’s already crowding you, collar on as he presses the clipped leash into your hand.

“You’re so pretty,” he gives you a wide smile, blue eyes gazing down to your dress hem, “smell so good.”

He drops down onto his knees and presses his face under your dress, burying his nose against your panty clad pussy.

“Leon!” you gasp, hand tangling in the leash and pulling, but he rears against the pressure, tongue lapping at the thin lace gusset of your panties.

You pull harder and he groans, bringing his palms up to press on your hips, sending you stumbling back against the wall. He quickly shifts with your body, nosing your thighs before sloppily licking against your cunt.

You shakily pull up the edge of your dress until you can see Leon’s face. His dilated eyes flicker up to yours, hair ruffled and messy, ears twitching.

“Leon,” you whimper, feeling his teeth tug and nip the fabric until he’s able to rip a hole into it.

His tongue slips into the tear, making it larger until you’re basically wearing crotch less panties. Tugging on the leash just makes him grunt and moan into your pussy, tongue licking up the slick dripping from your hole.

“Fuck,” you rock your hips making Leon growl, tail wagging behind him as his tongue flutters in your clenching hole.

He moves up, tongue dragging through your pussy lips to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves til you’re whimpering.

“G-good boy, Leon, right there, oh god,” you grind your sensitive bundle against his mouth as he suckles it between his lips.

He whines and teases your pudgy clit with his lips and tongue as you yank his leash to keep his face right where you want. He pants and moans, moving his mouth against your pussy, tongue fluttering in and out of your hole.

You tighten the pull on his leash and ride his face with a moan. You can hear how wet you are from the messy sounds of Leon’s mouth. He moves back up to lap and suck at your clit, tail thumping against the floor as he groans against the sensitive bud like he can’t get enough of your taste.

He finally pulls away with a huff, mouth swollen and shiny with slick. Before you can say anything, he’s standing up so fast you lose grip on the leash and he’s shoving you over the edge of the bed and flipping your dress up. Your panties are ripped in half and you feel his thick cock pressing into your hole.

“Leon,” you try to raise up but he snarls and boxes you in, sinking his cock into you fast and deep.

You wail and thrash as he grunts, rocking his dick deep into your soaked pussy until the tip grinds against the opening to your womb.

Clenching and moaning, tears bead your water line, “S’too much.”

He licks the shell of your ear making you shiver, pulling halfway out of your pulsing walls to fuck back into your cunt.

“Been wanting to knot your pussy for ages,” he whines, the sound of skin slapping together making you clench against his dick.

“So naughty, letting me fuck your hand, cumming all over you, letting other pups know you’re all mine,” he mouths and lick all over the back of your neck and across your shoulders.

“Just wanted t’help,” you mumble, feeling your pussy throb as he bullies his cock against your g-spot, bottoming out on every thrust.

“Mm but you are helping now, miss owner,” Leon chuffs the back of your head, hips flexing as he ruts his dick into your greedy cunt, “sweet pussy all wet and willing for my puppy knot.”

You clamp down hard on his thick cock with a loud whine, “Oh, f-fuck.”

He picks up on that instantly and growls low, “Like my puppy knot? Wanna feel it lock me inside your tight wet hole?”

Hot arousal curls in your abdomen, clit throbbing at the thought of Leon knotting you.

“Leon,” you mewl, fingers twisting in your sheets, cunt squelching loudly around his dick as you get even more wet and tight.

“That’s it, miss owner,” he rumbles low in his chest, sloppily licking your shoulders, “get that pussy nice and slick for my knot.”

You’re coated in puppy spit and precum at this point, nipples hard and pointed as Leon drags you back onto his cock.

“Gotta show you how good of a mate I can be,” he nips at your neck, “show you I can fill you up how you need, give you lots of pups.”

“Leon,” you whine as he bullies into your soaking wet hole over and over, “n-no pups, you gotta pull out.”

“But I gotta give you my knot,” he licks across your shoulder blade, “gotta breed your pussy deep.”

Shuddering, your arms give out, forcing your back into a deeper arch allowing Leon to fuck your pussy harder.

“Gonna make you my bitch,” he growls into your ear, drooling all over your neck, “gonna mount you whenever I want, knot you so good you’ll beg for it.”

Hearing him call you a bitch in that low growl makes you press back harder into his thrusts, pussy squeezing his cock like crazy.

“Leon,” you drag out his name with a moaning pant, “we can’t.”

“Why? Tell me one good reason why and I’ll stop, miss owner.”

“Cause,” your mind’s foggy with arousal, “cause…”

You shiver as he ruts deeper into your slick pussy, bullying that spongy spot in your cunt that makes you clench on him repeatedly.

“Why?” he licks your ear, “cause you like it too much? Don’t want my dripping puppy cock filling you up? Giving you a thick creampie to make you feel nice and full.”

“Yes,” you moan, “I shouldn’t—“

“Miss owner, just let me do it one time, just so we both can see how it feels,” his voice is sweet making your thoughts syrup thick, “just let my fat puppy cock knot you one time.”

You shudder, pussy pulsing and fluttering around him as slick leaks down your thighs, “Just once?”

He growls in satisfaction, “Yeah, just once. Promise.”

You both know as soon as he knots you, you’re going to like it too much to stop. It’s why he laughs into your shoulder making you moan.

“Can’t wait to empty my balls in your fat pussy,” he grunts.

You wail as his tip knocks against your cervix roughly.

“Love the way you sound,” he nips your neck, “love the way you smell, love how sweet you taste,” his voice dips into a deeper octave, “love how your hot pussy grips me so fucking tight. She’s really working for that puppy knot, huh?”

Drooling into the sheets, you whimper in reply, walls fluttering and clenching around his thick cock. The way he’s thrusting into your hole grinds your clit against the bedspread, orgasm steadily building higher and higher to its peak.

“G’nna cum,” you slur out, toes curling as your hips shake, “gonna cum, fuck, Leon!”

You bury your face in the sheets as you cry out, cunt pulsing and milking his cock as he keeps railing you into the bed.

“Yes, yes,” he snaps his teeth over your shoulder, “feels so good, gonna make me pop my knot early, fuck, take it, take it, miss owner, take my fucking cock.”

You keen pitifully as he bares down over your body, pressing his knot past the wet, clenching hole of your pussy with a low howl. Feeling his knot seal you together, your cunt clamps down around him tightly squeezing around his cock and knot.

“Mmm so perfect,” he huffs against your ear, “doesn’t that feel so good? So warm and sticky inside? So much puppy cum filling you up.”

You mewl pitifully as he rocks against you, cock grinding all against the spongy spot in the front of your cunt making a second orgasm wash weakly through you.

“Can knot you all day, miss owner,” he kisses the side of your cheek, “instead of going to the park,” he licks the corner of your mouth, “can I? Promise it’ll feel so good.”

You turn your head to suck his tongue into your mouth. He moans and eagerly licks into your open mouth.

“S’fine, Leon,” you pull away with a sigh as he grinds your clit against the bedspread, “this’ll help, right?”

His tail wags happily, “Uh huh, help me out so much. S’okay to knot you again and again right? As much as I need?”

Brain feeling like thick syrup from the best orgasm of your life, you nod, “As much as you need.”

#lipglossanon #puppy!leon s kennedy #puppy!leon kennedy #puppy!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #puppy!leon s kennedy smut #puppy!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy smut #lipglossmasterlist #hybrid!leon s kennedy #hybrid leon kennedy #hybrid au

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4ttack-ur-heart · 10 months

Text

Levi HC’s: Massage oil

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Warnings + genre: none & fluff

Summary: Your back has been killing you so Levi gives you a massage.

“Fuck.” You whined out, your hand reaching to grasp your lower back. Training has been rough over the past few days and you slept wrong last night, making your back extremely sore.

Sitting up straight, you made your way through the halls. Opening the door to your shared room with Levi, you spotted him already sipping a cup of tea by the window.

“I was wondering when you were coming.” He wondered aloud.

“Yeah, the new recruits were struggling today so that meant overtime for everyone.” You grumbled and shuffled through your closet for some pajamas.

Levi hummed in response and set his cup down. He came up behind you just as your stripped yourself of your jacket and shirt, his nimble hands instantly went to your shoulders in hopes to lighten the stress in your body.

“Agh!” You yelled out and tensed up as Levi’s hands started to work on your shoulders. He halted his movements immediately.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He placed a hand on your hip to turn you to face him. His eyebrows furrowed in concern at your pained expression.

You sighed as you tried to relax your back. “Yeah, just really stiff and my backs been killing me.”

“Get comfortable then lay on the bed, face down.” Levi ordered.

“Why?”

“I’m going to massage your back. You’re clearly in no position to relax right now, and it’ll only worsen when you sleep.”

“Levi, you don’t have to, I’ll be fine.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, what happens when your back gives out on an expedition? Don’t be stupid, let me help you.”

Sighing in defeat, you knew he wasn’t going to let up. Besides, a massage did sound nice, you just didn’t want to bother him.

“Ok.”

“Turn around. Let me crack your back.” You obeyed.

Levi made you cross your arms over your chest and he wrapped his around yours.

“Breathe in then exhale on three, one, two-”

“Agh!”

He lifted your body up and you moaned as your back cracked with the motions. Several loud pops echoing in the room. You were heavily breathing at the sensation. It felt so good and hurt so bad at the same time.

“Lay down.”

After changing into more loose clothing, you flopped on the bed and regretted it immediately when your back seized up again. “Shit.”

“Not the brightest are you?”

“Shut up and get to work.” You huffed and Levi chuckled as sat neck to you and lifted up the back of your shirt to reach your shoulder blades.

Levi was amused by the way you reacted to his hands. How you moaned as he went lower, then started muttering nonsense when he applied more pressure. After a few minutes of him trying to loosen the knots, he noticed your grunts and groans were out of pain, not pleasure. Wordlessly, he got up.

“Stay here.”

Levi disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments and came out with a small bottle.

“What is that?” You craned your neck over your shoulder to try and see.

“Hush, I liked it better when you were moaning.” Levi shifted one leg over your thighs so he was straddling you. He tugged at your shirt. “I need this off.”

You moved to take off your shirt, leaving you only in a bra. About to lay back down, Levi plucked the band of your bra and made it snap against your skin. “This too.”

Before you could move, Levi had already unclipped it and was moving the straps over your arms, flinging the item over the bed to join your shirt.

Now that you were completely bare on the top half, you finally laid back down and Levi popped the cap off the bottle.

A sudden rush of liquid squirting on your back made you flinch.

“Stop moving, I don’t want the oil to stain the sheets.”

“Oil? What’s that for?”

“Hange recommended it to me when we were in town last week.” He replied and gently started to rub it into your skin, soft moans escaped your sore body. “They had the same problems you did and Moblit actually bought it for them, and I figured if it worked for them then there was no harm in trying it. It’s supposed to ease the friction and moisturize your skin.”

You nodded only half-listening. The way his warm hands mixed with the oil against your back felt euphoric. With every push and dip, Levi’s fingers worked the oil into your back. It wasn’t long before you felt the eventual pressure release of the knots and tension.

“Mm, Levi.” You moaned through closed eyes. His fingers were slicked with the oil and you could smell the aroma of peppermint and lavender.

It felt way too good.

“How long has this been going on for?” Levi asked after a few moments of silence. His hands suddenly moved to just below your shoulder blade and started to work out the knot.

“Ah-! A-about a a week I think?” You groaned as his fingers rubbed circles into the spot.

“Tch, and I’m just now finding out about this?” He asked and a stern look crossed his features. You felt his eyes burn through the back of your head.

“In my defense- ooh~” His hands found another tense knot. “I didn’t wanna bother you, we’ve been busy all week and I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly not.” He argued. “Are you even stretching before training?”

Yes, you are.

Mostly.

Sometimes.

Okay, maybe not in the past week.

“Your silence is all the answer I need.” Levi chastised. “Let me make a deal with you.”

“Hm?” You didn’t care what it was, your mind was too clouded with relaxing under Levi’s touch. Levi suddenly pulled away and your skin tingled at the loss of touch, practically begging for more. He got off of you and grabbed a towel nearby to clean his hands of the oil.

“If you can’t fucking take care of yourself that’s fine.” He started and helped you sit back up so you were shoulder to shoulder. His forearm secured itself around your bare breasts so you wouldn’t feel as exposed. Steel blue eyes bore into yours, but soon they melted into a soft gaze.

Levi’s hand guided your chin and his lips met yours in a sweet kiss. “Then at least let me do it.”

————

Tag list: @cullenswife @sad-darksoul

#aot x reader #aot imagines #attack on titan #aot fluff #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #aot drabbles #levi headcanons #levi x reader #levi x fem!reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x female reader #levi drabble #Levi oneshots

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magiccath · 4 months

Text

Psychic paper

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the psychic paper betrays the Doctor

A/N: The Doctor is fruity, deal with it xx

You’d been traveling with the Doctor for a while now and you loved every minute of it. In that time he had shown you all kinds of things you had priorly deemed impossible; aliens with wiggly tentacles, a spaceship that defies the laws of 3 dimensional space, a buzzing device he calls the Sonic Screwdriver, and homicidal salt shakers with toilet plungers for arms to name just a few.

It seemed that with every adventure he showed you something new and fascinating, constantly topping himself without even trying. There was so much in all of time and space it wasn’t that hard. Anything outside of the 21st century was new to you.

This time, the Doctor had taken you to see a mechanics factory in the 35th century, but as always the adventure didn’t end there. Aside from new experiences, the Doctor could almost always promise some kind of trouble. He claimed he didn’t go searching for it but rather that it tended to follow him. Either way, most adventures with the Doctor involved some kind of mischief and usually a lot of running.

“It’s no good, you can only get in with an ID,” you groaned, popping your head back around the corner. “There’s a security guard checking everyone going in and out is an employee.”

You were hiding in a hallway, hoping to get inside the establishment's headquarters. The Doctor had a hunch that malicious alien forces were behind the operation, but he couldn’t be sure without poking around further. Typical Doctor, he just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“I can’t think of any legal ways to get in there,” you shrugged, turning to the Doctor for ideas.

“I have identification,” the Doctor smirked, rummaging around in the seemingly endless pockets of his coat.

“You’re not an employee,” you pointed out.

The Doctor made a triumphant sound as he pulled what appeared to be a small black notebook out of the depths of his pocket. He flipped it open and you realized it wasn’t a notepad. The item was more like a police badge, minus the actual badge part.

He turned the paper towards you with a smile, clearly expecting you to be impressed

“Aren’t I?” He grinned brightly, looking at you eagerly. “Psychic paper,” he explained, tapping the stark white paper with his finger.

You grabbed the item from him, squinting at it. You wanted to make sure you were reading it right, maybe your eyes were acting up.

“This just says ‘I love you’?” You asked, handing the Doctor his weird paper back with a frown.

“I think that flirting with the security guard is more of a Jack move,” you winced, not wanting to hurt his feelings. The Doctor was quite the charmer, but strategic flirting wasn’t his strong suit.

The Doctor grabbed his psychic paper from you, frowning at it aggressively. It wasn’t supposed to say that.

“What-?” he asked, glaring at it the same way you did. Once the words registered with him he turned a dark shade of red. He should have been more careful when he handed it over to you.

“It’s not supposed to say that,” he mumbled his thoughts, trying to hide his fluster.

“How does it work? Is it like a reusable notepad?” You asked, genuinely interested. Even if the Doctor’s tools could be finicky, they were interesting. Maybe he had just forgotten to erase the message from the last time he used it.

“No, it’s supposed to show the reader what I want them to see,” he blushed, shaking the paper out like a Polaroid. Usually shaking the item would clear it, but those three words refused to fade from the paper.

“Sometimes it’s a bit slow…” he said, really more to himself than to you. He was still shaking the paper, desperately trying to get the words to disappear.

“So you were going to try and flirt with the security guard?” You frowned, now you were even more confused. The Doctor would much rather blow the whole place up than try and flirt his way through security.

“No!” He said, almost a bit too quickly. He blushed again and averted his gaze, an anxious hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He hadn’t planned on telling you like this. He hadn’t planned on telling you at all.

“When I handed it over it was supposed to show you an employee ID,” he winced. You nodded, this much you knew. What you didn’t understand was the confession of love.

“But I think the psychic paper picked up on my feelings instead,” he whispered. If you hadn’t been listening intently you might have missed the last few words.

“Are you saying that you love me?” You frowned, looking at the floor with concentration, “or the security guard?” The second option seemed more viable at the moment.

For the first time in a century, the Doctor was speechless. He stared at you, wide-eyed and unblinking as you waited for his answer. If it was possible, his jaw might have fallen to the floor.

“He’s pretty handsome, I can’t blame you,” you added, peeking over the wall to look at the security guard again.

The Doctor shook himself out of it, rambling a string of incoherent words. “I- uh, wha-?” He stumbled, trying to form a sentence.

“I handed the paper to you.” He said definitively.

“It’s a really dramatic way to come out, Doctor.” You continued on, ignoring him. It’s not like you didn’t know already, he wasn’t exactly subtle about it.

“It didn’t say ‘I love men’!” He threw his hands up in distress. “It said ‘I love you’!”

You finally stopped rambling on about the security guard and turned your attention to the Doctor. His words caught up to you and tentatively you pointed at yourself as if there was any other you. The Doctor nodded exasperatedly as if to say “Yes, you!”

“You love me?” you asked, still pointing at yourself.

“I think I’ve said it about four times now.”

“You?” You pointed at the Doctor, “Love me?”

“Blimey! Yes!” He shouted, frustrated now. You widened your eyes and anxiously checked around you, scared he might have given away your location. Thankfully, everyone appeared to be out of earshot.

“Yes, I love you,” he whispered this time, his eyes boring into yours. You blinked slowly, your brain still refusing to process his confession.

You smiled brightly, your grin taking over your entire face. The Doctor loved it when you lit up like this, your happiness radiating off of you. He felt a small smile of his own tugging at his lips just looking at you.

“I hope that’s alright,” he whispered quietly. He would never forgive himself if he lost you over a psychic paper mishap. The embarrassment would be too much - he’d have to run away. Maybe to that planet inhabited by only rubber ducks?

“That’s more than alright,” you grinned, a hand instinctively reaching up to his arm to comfort him. The fabric of his coat was cold against your palm, but you didn’t pull away.

The Doctor really smiled back at you now, the wild lopsided grin that was reserved just for you. The kind of smile that always made you laugh with joy.

He wasted no time wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting your body off the ground in excitement. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar scent. You laughed happily, waving your feet about slightly.

The Doctor pulled back just enough to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. Neither of you could stop smiling, even as your lips met. You laughed against him, planting kisses across his face sloppily. Your lips brushed the tip of his nose, the arch of his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, and his jawline.

“The security guard is pretty cute though,” the Doctor teased with a sly smile.

“I knew it!” You burst out laughing, throwing your head back as you did.

#10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #doctor who #tenth doctor #10th doctor #david tennant #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction #the doctor x reader #the doctor/reader #the doctor #psychic paper #doctor who bbc

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