#but for now I think this fic will suffice

[hippogrifffeathers]

A Foal's Trust

Death had a way of haunting you, especially when it occurs at your own hands. Sebastian hasn't been the same since that fateful night in the Feldcroft Catacombs, and struggles to come to terms with who he is in the aftermath- his gaze skirted around mirrors, he couldn't trust his own defensive magic, and begins to fade in to himself, steeping in self doubt.

For weeks, MC has felt condemned to watch as Sebastian's thoughts drifted to where they couldn't follow, longing to reach out and help, but feeling lost in knowing where to start.

But maybe it doesn't have to come from them.

And as it happens, they know just the den of characters that might be able to help.

ao3 link here!

No matter how convincing an act he was determined to keep up, MC was worried about Sebastian. Ever since that fateful night in the catacombs, he hadn’t been the same. 

There were moments when it was almost easy to pretend otherwise, pockets of time when the smile on his face was wide and boyish, unweighed down by everything they’d been through, where his thrill for learning overrode everything else as he eagerly explained about some new spell he’d come across, or rune he’d learnt. They’d be struck by the  memory of the boy they had met at the start of the year, one who had offered them friendship with a sly grin, 

Then, just like that, it would be over. 

Moments of carefree bliss became poisoned behind the shadows of the Undercroft, as sad eyes would fixate on a stain in the ground, one that told the tale of a childish game of Gobstones long since past. Studying together in the library could quickly become lonesome and melancholic, as MC felt condemned to watch as his mind drifted to where they couldn’t follow. 

Constantly, desperately, Sebastian maintained a distance between them that he never used to, recoiled as though he’d burn if their arms dare brush. Kept them within his gaze, but never his reach, daring not allow himself such sentiment.

Dark circles haunted his under eyes, his once-ample appetite grew fleeting and inconsistent, even as MC would sneak his favourite treats to the Undercroft and he’d pick at the edges.

Then one day, MC caught the expression on his face as he was confronted with it- his reflection. He hadn’t even heard the grating of the Undercroft doors, too preoccupied with the person staring back at him in the reflective surface of a shield. Regarding the figure like a foreign entity, unable to look away, terrified to look any closer, so full of distrust for the man looking back at him- and MC understood the fear that plagued their friend, lingering in his shadow. The ghost that wouldn’t leave.

They penned a letter, and hoped to Merlin that it would work.

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

The whispers of the Forbidden Forest had once filled Sebastian with thrilling curiosity, adrenaline only running hotter when MC joined at his side.

Thinking back to those times, he wonders when the boy with battle in his blood and a need to learn in his veins had become so hesitant. The thrill of adventure hadn’t left, still a familiar companion in this darkness, but he couldn’t control the sharp spike of fear that raced down his spine at the sound of a snapping twig, the uncertainty that gripped him after hearing the distant murmurs of a poacher camp.

MC hadn’t so much as blinked at the whispers of threats that hid around the corners of the Forest, only leading him away from those voices, deep into the thickets of the trees- their reckless disregard for their own safety a key motivator in why Sebastian even agreed to meet them out here tonight.

He hated the idea of them travelling the Forest alone, exploring the highlands without backup- it’s a fear he knows has only gotten worse with time, maybe since the Catacombs, or after their battle against Ranrok- it was difficult to tell, and he dared not think for too long about the reason behind it.

He’d been doing that a lot lately, trying to avoid looking too closely at himself.

Ahead, he watches MC make a turn that leads deeper into the Forest, yet they still hadn’t unsheathed their wand- something which may as well have lived in their hand these days. Such a complete lack of caution was uncharacteristic, even for them.

“You never did tell me where we were going, you know?” MC didn’t even turn around at his questioning, their voice carried in a comforting echo over their shoulder.

“You’ll see soon enough.”

“MC-”

Something in his tone made them stop for a moment, turning to offer him a reassuring smile- it was difficult to feel comforted by such a glance, not when he knew MC’s propensity for dangerous exploration better than most. Still, when the look in their eyes softened into one of understanding, he felt a part of him settle. 

“It’s nowhere dangerous Sebastian, I promise.”

Anyone else, and Sebastian would have demanded an answer hours ago, before even agreeing to come to the Forbidden Forest- but MC wasn’t anyone else, and damn it all he’d even go back to the Feldcroft Catacombs in a heartbeat if only they asked.

So instead of pushing, he followed quietly after MC as they led him through the suspiciously silent forestry, even as the trees became increasingly dense, shadowing the moonlight overhead, leaving them to travel in near-darkness.

MC pushed on without hesitation, completely at ease in a forest filled with threats, still crawling with remaining Ashwinders and Poachers who would do anything to see them taken down. Sebastian’s hand itched for his wand as his thoughts raced, but he daren’t trust himself with such a comfort.

Eventually, MC came to a stop by a huge rock in their path, hiding whatever lay in wait beyond it. 

They turn to face him, their voice carrying barely above a whisper, and Sebastian feels his breath catch in his chest as their gaze meets his. Eyes glittering in the darkness of the forest, a soft smile gracing their lips urging him to come closer, waiting patiently as he nears, gaze not leaving his own even as they practically vibrate with excitement, eager to lead him ever deeper into adventure, to share another sacred mystery with him. Bitterness twists in his chest, but selfishly he can’t stop the way he leans in to their own frame as he approaches, and for a moment he swears they’re doing the same, warmth filling the decreasing space between them, a whisper hangs between them-

“Come on.”.

Just like that the moment is over as MC turns away, sneaking out of sight around the rock.

Unwaveringly, Sebastian follows.

His footsteps slow as his eyes laid sight on what the rock has been protecting from view, the hidden alcove MC had led him to with barely-masked excitement. Another secret that they had decided he was deserving of, for some reason.

Except, he can’t imagine himself ever being deserving of such a sight.

A clearing, protected by the thickets of trees surrounding them, where the shine of the moon was able to shine down. The picture of serenity, a sanctuary in the middle of one of the most dangerous areas in the country, and MC entered the clearing like it was familiar territory, like they belonged here, and as Sebastain registered the beasts who called it home- the most sacred of creatures, souls as pure as the white of their hair- he’d believe that in a heartbeat.

Unicorns.

He almost couldn’t believe it. 

It was rare enough to see one Unicorn, let alone an entire pack from a distance- and here they were, at a den.

Or, if you were MC, amongst the herd. 

Sebastian watches with bated breath as a fully-grown unicorn doesn’t hesitate to trot over to MC to greet them, practically preening as MC raises one hand to gently pet at their flank, fond words falling from their mouth in greeting. Another follows close behind, nudging at their shoulder. There’s not a sign of upset across the entire clearing, no sign of startle at MC’s presence.

Unicorns ran from humans, fled at the slightest shuffle of movement, but here, in their most protected of spaces, MC walks assuredly in and is immediately accepted, greeted like an old friend.

His heart races in his eardrums and Sebastian finds he isn’t surprised in the slightest that MC has won the trust of unicorns; Creatures drawn to beauty and purity, the embodiment of magical potential. MC fits in right among them, petting the flank of a particularly shiny unicorn, their melodious laughter ringing around the rich green clearing when a foal nearly bowls them over in its excitement, whinnying for their attention as it presses against their hip.

Merlin, a foal, drawn to MC’s side. Its parents watch the pair, with no concern for their offspring, such a deep display of trust and suddenly this perfect picture, of beauty and magic and purity- it stings like a vicious stab to the chest.

Self-loathing rushes like a wave over him, the familiar bitter taste of acid curling on his tongue as he fights the urge to run from the clearing as fast as he can, like the coward he really is.

Run away from another reminder of everything he isn’t, everything he can never have.

Their laughter cuts through the noise and his heart pangs at the sound.

How can someone like MC, so good, so pure intentioned, bathed in the moonlight and glowing just as bright as the unicorns that surround them, the truth of their soul laid out so clearly before him- how could someone like them ever want to be in the company of someone like him?

A murderer, someone who had killed his own family, who hadn’t hesitated before torturing one of his best friends, taking them for granted ever since they met. 

He didn’t deserve their trust, their unwavering loyalty. This hero, with their bleeding heart and faithfulness of the entire school at their backs, a wealth of friends to surround themself with and they continue to choose him. 

They deserved so much better.

Lost in thought Sebastian doesn’t notice when MC turns excitedly around, looking over their shoulder at the spot a few paces behind them, then further away, back to the outskirts of the clearing, to where he was standing, still partially hidden by shrubs.

Their expression falls, registering the conflict that burns behind his eyes, the tension wrapping tight around his frame.

MC’s heart bleeds for him.

“Sebastian?” Their voice carries like a soft whisper, hesitant and gentle, so different from the carefree joy they exuded only minutes before. He hated that he was the cause of their uncertainty- Merlin, he couldn’t even let them be happy among unicorns without ruining it with his own selfish feelings.

The urge to run resurfaced with a vengeance, to flee before he could ruin this beautiful scene.

Not for the first time, Sebastian forcefully reminds himself of how hurt MC would be if he distanced himself from them, that no matter how painful it was to be constantly reminded of how undeserving he was of this miracle before him, it would be far more painful to not be in their company, to worry for them every second he wasn’t around.

Instead, he forced his feet to remain still, even as MC pulled away from the beasts they had been so lovingly attending to and neared where he stood, not a second glance spared for the majestic beasts they had left behind.

Over their shoulder, Sebastian sees the moment the attentions of the unicorn pack finally shift from the human they had been so enamoured with, to the second hiding in the outskirts of their den. He dares not watch for the moment they recoil, and makes the easy choice for his attention to land back on MC.

MC, who had now stopped only paces from him, an arm's reach away, They watch him with an emotion he can’t identify, and speak again in that insufferably gentle tone, that one he doesn’t deserve. Somedays, he wished they’d yell at him, scream, do anything except offer him patience and kindness- a part of him longed for MC to realise what a colossal mistake they were making by poisoning this den with his presence, that they’d chase him off with distrust and anger in their eyes- finally realising just how awful a person he had been to them, how awful a person he was.

“Would you-ah, are you coming?” 

“No.” The rejection is out of his mouth before he can fully register the loud tenor of his voice, the thick layer of anger that coats it. Lashing out, without even thinking. That’s what you do best.

He’s violent, too violent, for their gentle words, their soft edges. Even the kindest of offers, he always had to ruin.

Except he’s forgotten who he’s talking to. On anyone else, it would have worked- his unexpected venom would have at least pushed them back, put them on the defensive and safely into a zone Sebastian knew how to navigate.

But MC had always seen right through him.

There was no shock or hurt in their eyes, no recoil of their body. Instead, their gaze became only softer as they regarded him, so openly displaying their sorrow for him, their empathy and affection.

Sebastian longed to look away, he couldn’t.

“Can I ask why?” MC pressed, and since when has he been able to deny them.

Well, perhaps since now. The truth sits like a weight on his tongue, a shadow he daren’t yet look at closer. Lying was easier, it always had been.

The corners of his lips pulled into one of his signature grins, the kind he used to flash whenever making a particularly witty joke, inviting MC to laugh along, “Well, unicorns aren’t exactly the biggest fan of blokes, are they?”

They weren’t convinced. It had been pathetic of him to even try. “We both know that’s a preference, not a rule….Why won’t you come closer, really?”

Their head tilts slightly as they ask the question, knocking flyaway hairs into their face, and he longs to reach out to tuck them back. Their gaze searches his own, free of judgement or pity, the light of the moon casting their head with an ethereal glow, and Sebastian is overcome with a surge of hot anger.

How could they do this to him?

They stand here, looking like that, after bringing him to a Salazar-damned Unicorn Den and they had the ignorance to believe everything would be okay, that there wouldn’t be a problem? That he could ever be worthy of any of this, that this was the sort of world in which he could be welcomed?

Anne had seen it. Ominis had too. So why hadn’t MC?

How much longer would he be forced to endure their presence, their radiating warmth and outstretched hand, before they realised the same thing everyone else important to him had, and he was left completely alone?

Unicorns were drawn to the most pure of people, to good souls- and Sebastian Sallow was neither of those things.

He was terrified of the truth he would be forced to confront if he stepped out into that clearing, bore his soul for judgement and forced the unicorns to turn tail and flee from their own home, from the tarnish on his soul.

The thought was too much to bear, and MC was still standing there, all warmth and acceptance, like they hadn’t even considered the possibility that not everyone was so strong as they were, not everyone was so untouchably pure of heart.

Frustration grows within him at the injustice of it all.

“Are you completely blind?! I tortured you, MC! I watched you writhe on the floor in excruciating pain and I still didn’t stop- it was so easy for me to cast the cruciatus- I didn’t even care! I killed my Uncle, and I don’t regret it! I am damaged, MC.” The last sentence comes out as a hiss of self disgust, his chest heaves with laboured breathing, as the last dregs of his rage simmer away, leaving only the ugly truth in their wake.

Sebastian turns his head, fixes his gaze down at the ground so he doesn’t have to see the disappointment in MC’s eyes, the fear when they realise he is right, that he is the exact same kind of monster they had been fighting against all year and there was nothing redeemable about him. He couldn’t face it.

Only the sound of the faint wind through the trees cut between them as he waits for the inevitable rejection, for MC to turn him away from this clearing- from them, as he deserves.

The silence stretches on, and for a moment Sebastian believes they’ve finally come to accept the truth, but then their voice cuts through the quiet, past the occasional whinny of a unicorn, and it’s far from anger, or disgust, or any other emotion that should be thrown at him.

The opposite of the striking hand he had waited to fall against his cheek. There’s the familiar firmness of their words, but it’s gentle, understanding. 

“I’ve killed people, Seb, lots of people- and I don’t regret it. Does that make me damaged too?”

“No! Merlin, no, of course not!” Hot panic races through his veins at the mere suggestion that someone like MC, glowing in the light of a Unicorn Den, heart bleeding for the cause of any living being they come across, could ever be like him.

They weren’t being fair. Their circumstances and Sebastian’s were not the same, MC and Sebastain were not the same.

They couldn't be, because the alternative was too much to consider. If MC was right, then what would that say about the shadows he saw lingering in his peripheral vision? The visions he saw every time he closed his eyes, or the fear he’d lose control if he were to ever enter a duel again? What would it mean if the nightmares that had plagued him for weeks were only that- nightmares?

No, he wouldn’t allow himself to even dream of such a possibility. The flutters of hope and the dregings of doubt all felt the same now.

Hands wrap around his own, and he can’t find it in himself to pull away. They’re soft, delicate in ways that should be impossible after all  MC’s adventures and battles, and providing a soothing balm against the rough skin of his own hands, tracing circles over callouses from years of farmwork and duelling. 

Sebastian hates himself for how much he loves the feeling, the perfect fit of their hands with his own. Despises himself for the way he wants to hold on forever.

Then, their hands grip his with a sudden sense of urgency, their tone beseeching yet so soft, hardly above a whisper as their gaze searches for his own, “Then why are you any different?”

How could they ask that?

How could Sebastian ever begin to explain the chasm of morality between them? That his soul is wretched, damned in a way theirs could never be. 

Their misplaced faith in him only hardened his resolve, for they had seen him commit the worst of acts, chose bloodshed over peace and relished in the outcome, and still stood at his side and remained naive to how dangerous he was for them. 

MC is blind to the truth, so eager to believe everyone was as pure of heart as they are that they couldn’t understand how undeserving Sebastian was of their devotion. They could never understand the way he never knows what he might do when confronted with an enemy, the depths he will delve to if he ever sees MC in danger again. 

Worst of all, was how he already knew he wouldn’t regret it.

He couldn’t break their faith in him like that, tell them that all their hope in him was misplaced and he was broken beyond even their repair.

Instead, he says nothing.

MC remains silent, rubbing soothing circles into the back of his hands. Their gaze focused only on the slouch of Sebastian’s shoulders, the downturn of his head as he determinedly does not meet their eye.

Sebastian hadn’t noticed the unicorn foal that had followed loyally after MC, stopping only paces from the couple, ears twitching with curiosity.

Now that the humans had fallen into silence, he trots even closer, brushing against MC’s side just as insistently as before- they don’t startle at the touch, eyes still only on their companion- and stops when their middle was pressed against MC’s hip- sniffing at the intertwined hands, before looking upwards- right at Sebastian.

His heart hammers in his chest as wide eyes meet his own, staring right through him. For a moment the world may as well have frozen, as the young Unicorn stared intently at him, wide eyes capable of seeing every mark on his soul. Sebastian knows it.

Slowly, he feels the warmth encompassing his left hand disappear, gaze snapping away from the Unicorn, his startled expression clashing with MC’s reassuring one as they pull one of their hands back, leaving his palm hovering over the foal’s head, inches away from the shining golden coat.

He daren’t breathe, the slight tremor in one hand the only movement his body makes, as he waits for the moment this baby unicorn sees him for what he is, turns tail and flees the moment this offspring of goodness and morality and purity feels the stain on his heart. The living danger that Sebastian is.

But the foal isn’t going anywhere, no desperate fleeing from a human boy with death on his hands. There’s no sign of fear in its wide eyes, only patience.

MC urges, voice breathy and encouraging, “Go on.”, and his hand lowers, resting on an impossibly soft golden hide.

The foal nickers, a high and excitable sound, and presses into his hesitant touch, like there had never been a doubt in its mind about the boy who had accompanied their friend here.

So small a gesture, but one that steals the breath from his lungs, sending his thoughts into a spiral because the unicorn wasn’t running away, not like it should have, not like Unicorns did around evil and malice. Sebastian wasn’t the kind of human that unicorns were willing to let close, he was marked, damaged, dangerous-

But if that were true, then why had this foal pressed so eagerly into his touch, looking into his eyes and seeing his heart yet had chosen trust. 

He felt the foal nudge impatiently at his frozen hand, confused about why this human wasn’t petting him back, the trust and faith in Sebastian’s humanity unwavering, so much like the other creature of goodness still holding on to his right hand. There was no hesitation, no fear, only unwavering confidence that Sebastian was enough, that he was worthy of being in the companionship of the purest, most magical of beasts. His soul had won their trust in a heartbeat, and he felt all his previous fears begin to crumble at his feet.

Maybe, a part of him dares to dream, maybe he isn’t as damaged as he feels.

It’s enough to break Sebastian’s barely-contained dam apart.

With a shaking hand, he begins to rub his hand against the foal’s flank, his breath shudders at the fond nickering he receives in gratitude. It sounds like days spent helping with farmwork around Feldcroft, trips with his parents to the countryside as a child- memories of blissful simplicity that had hurt for so long, he’d almost preferred to deny them. 

He’s not even aware he’s started crying, until there’s a soft hand brushing the tears from his face, momentarily their touch brushing against his jaw in a gentle hold that doesn’t stay- their other still holding tight to his own. As MC goes to retreat, pulling away, he can’t help the instinctive way his hand holds tighter to theirs, a silent request.

Their thumb goes back to tracing circles on his hand, MC stays.

Even as a circle forms around them, curious unicorns from earlier following the foal over, MC remains by him. It should feel claustrophobic, the way the beasts surround them both on most sides, familiarly nudging at MC, eager to greet their new companion whom they seem to have taken an effortless liking to. The unconditional trust makes Sebastian’s eyes water all over again.

None of it feels real. He’s petting a unicorn foal, welcomed into the den of creatures known for their distrust of wizardkind, their ability to sense malice- yet they had seen him, and none had rejected him. Instead, they watched him with open curiously, within arms reach if he dared change his affections from the young foal before him, still hovering at MC’s side for attention. MC raised one hand, cooing lovingly at the pure and sacred creatures that surrounded them, looking completely at home. Even then, their hand never left his own.

It felt like one of the cruller dreams his mind could have devised, another promise of all the things he couldn’t have, but as he waited for the peace to break, for the unicorns to turn tail and flee, MC’s touch to be torn away from him, he only feels the gentle warmth under his hands, the breath of air from a particularly close unicorn ruffle his hair.

‘We’re here’, they seem to say, ‘you’re here, you’re accepted’

He can’t hide the lightness in his chest, the laughter that freely bubbles when one unicorn is just a bit too enthusiastic and knocks MC slightly, stumbling closer to Sebastian as they trip. 

A part of Sebastian never wants to leave, even as the moon grows higher in the sky, extending its reach across the den and casting a glow over himself and MC, as they eventually settle against a nearby tree, content to watch over the unicorn pack when they become distracted by a shiny ball MC had pulled out of their bag, throwing the herd’s way with a knowing grin.

The herd ran across all corners of the clearing, always careful not to trample over the two humans they had adopted into their home, chasing after the toy, passing it between them with excitable nickering. 

Sebastian wonders if anyone else has even been fortunate enough to witness such a sight, an entire pack of unicorns playing together, with nary a sign of caution for their surroundings, or the threats that may hide within them. Unicorns, creatures known for their ability to hide and run away, are so completely at ease in the company of these two humans watching after them.

How did he get so lucky?

His gaze switches from the gleeful beasts before him, to the companions at his side. The warm press of MC’s arm against his own, the golden foal now sleeping between them, head resting on MC’s lap as their hand ran over its hide absentmindedly.

The familiar urge to pull them closer stirs in his chest and for the first time since that night in the catacombs, he doesn’t deny it. Slowly, he pulls away from where their arms were touching, instead raising his own over their shoulder, pulling MC closer. His heartbeat races as his touch rests around them, revelling in the feeling of rightness that threatened to consume him.

Without hesitating, MC leans into his touch, head falling atop of Sebasian’s shoulder with a careful press, as though they might be scared of pushing it too far. The smell of their shampoo invaded his senses, he couldn’t help but delight in the perfect way their heights complimented each other, the easy fit of their bodies against one another. 

Resting his head atop of theirs, marvelling in the way their breathing synchronised with his own, Sebastian knew this was how he could spend the rest of his days. Curled up with the one person who fit all his awkward angles and edges perfectly, surrounded by magic and wonder that was only ever their own to share- just another treasured secret between them- he finally felt that maybe, he was deserving of having this wonderful person by his side.

Perhaps he was enough, afterall.

#hogwarts legacy #my fics #sebastian sallow #my boy needs therapy but i suppose unicorns will suffice for now??? #all these years on tumblr and no i cannot tag my fics well and what of it #think it is impossible for me to write sebastian and mc without at least IMPLYING the romance and honestly?? summary of their entire dynami #this one goes out to the guy who was trying to read my screen as i edited this fic on the way to edinburgh earlier this week #i was about to SCREAM the amount of times i had to change tabs whenever i clocked it #yes this is the one i sat on for like three weeks i didnt LIKE IT OKAY!!! but also i no longer desire to hoard it <3 #plus the guilt of it gathering dust while i worked on other wips wasn't great

[marshmellowtea]

i’ve had this idea stuck in my head for ages and finally i’ve written it?? that never happens omg 

anyway idk how to intro this hgkdjsgf. it’s a fic about y/n giving actor a stuffed pink poodle, which is based off of one i found on mercari that i bought, like, immediately lmao. visual reference here if you want it. also, this fic contains age regression because i love little!actor more than life (though he doesn’t know that he’s regressing yet, y/n still has to have that conversation with him lmao), so if that bothers you feel free to skip over this. other warnings include allusions to actor having gender issues, references to mental health issues, and implied disordered eating, because i love giving this man Problems <3 if there’s anything else i need to warn for lemme know! 

i think that’s all for housekeeping. i’ll probably throw this fic on my alt ao3 tomorrow, and i’ll put the link to it in a reblog when i post it. :) 

(also, @electronic-melody, idk if you still want me to tag you in my little actor stuff, but here it is if you do ghlkdsjf <3) 

The thing sits in his bed, taunting him.

Mark glowers at the stuffed pink poodle on his bed, its slight smile with its tongue poking out almost feeling like it’s mocking him. There’s little black ribbons tied to its ears and a plain black collar around its neck, making it look especially cutesy and feminine, and he doesn’t know why that makes his stomach flip more, but it does.

He snarls, scooping the thing into his hands. As he does so, a familiar scent wafts up into his nose, which nearly gives him pause. However, he refuses to let himself be deterred, and he tightens his resolve and brings the thing downstairs, determined to get to the bottom of why it’s here.

There’s only one person who could’ve done this, and that’s you. Your scent is all over the damn thing, both literally and metaphorically.

He finds you in the kitchen, leaning over a recipe book. His stomach churns a little as he notices the recipe—looks like calorie-filled cheese stuffed pasta shells, sometimes he swears you’re conspiring to make him put on weight—but he doesn’t let that distract him from why he’s here. Even though it makes him feel like a petulant child, he finds himself pouting as he tugs on your shirt, shoving the plush in your face as soon as you turn around.

“What the hell is this?!” he demands, stomping his foot a little.

Your face breaks into a smile, and you have to fight back the urge to laugh at him while he stares you down in sulky disbelief. “Well, hello to you too,” you say, turning around and leaning back against the counter. “I see you found your new friend.”

His face contorts in confusion, and he turns the stuffed animal around in his hands to look it in the face. “My new what?”

“Your new friend,” you say, an indulgent expression on your face. “I got em for you cuz I figured you could use a buddy when I’m gone.”

Mark looks up at you, his face somewhere between confused and disgusted. “And why would you think that?”

You snort, your hands going to rest in your pockets. “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but you tend to get separation anxiety when I’m gone, and I thought it would be nice—”

“I do not!”

The protest is immediate and indignant. Mark scowls at you, the stuffed animal he’s so thoroughly offended by now clutched right to his chest, and though you know you shouldn’t, you can’t help but find the sight incredibly endearing. You laugh lightly, reaching out and putting one of your hands over his arm, giving it a light squeeze.

“The texts you spam me with tell a different story, love,” you say with fondness, dropping your hand from his bicep. “I just figured you can use a buddy. It might make you feel less, er. Lonely.” You swallow, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. You rub the back of your neck as you sheepishly admit, “I actually, uh. Slept with it a couple nights. So it would smell like me. I thought you might like that.”

Mark frowns, once again lifting up the poodle so he can stare at it pensively. He swallows thickly, his expression turning suspicious as he looks back up at you.

“This isn’t…you’re not trying to make fun of me, are you?” he asks, his voice going a bit thick.

Your heart drops into your stomach, and you shake your head quickly, reaching over and rubbing his arm again. “No, honey, no, of course not,” you soothe, feeling a little guilty for your flippant responses before. “Did you think I was?”

Mark shrugs, his thumbnail finding its way into his mouth. “I dunno,” he mumbles, a fragile quality to his voice. “It’s just so…girly. And babyish.”

“Oh…I thought you liked…” You pause, reconsidering your words. “I’m sorry. Lately you seem to be exploring being more feminine and I…well, it’s pretty, isn’t it? I thought you might like that.”

Mark nods slowly, the tip of his thumb still in his mouth. “She is pretty,” he mumbles, his face flushing with his agreement. “Did she—she come with the ribbons?”

“I gave them to her,” you say, lifting your hand from Mark’s arm to once again rub at the back of your neck. “And I gave her the collar too. Thought she’d like having something nice to wear.”

You decide not to mention the switch from it to she for the stuffy, not wanting to make him self conscious by making a big deal out of it, but you can’t help the small smile that flickers onto your face at the sound of it. You cross your arms over your chest and watch as Mark studies the plush again, your heart softening more and more as he inspects it.

“‘s still babyish,” he mumbles, his voice going up in pitch. You bite back the urge to point out the irony.

“Eh, not really. I have stuffed animals too, do you think I’m babyish?”

“That’s different,” Mark mumbles, his cheeks flushing more. “They’re not—it’s not—they’re not supposed’ta be your friends.”

“Hey, who says they’re not my friends?” you protest, throwing a hand to your chest in mock offense. “They’re some of my closest friends, in fact. How dare you assume they’re not.”

Mark giggles a little at your performance, which, score, that’s exactly what you wanted. He doesn’t move his eyes from the poodle, however, and his expression soon falls again. He swallows visibly, his lip quivering a little, and you step forward to pull him into a loose embrace.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” you soothe, running your hands up and down his back. “You don’t have to keep her if you don’t want to, I won’t make ya. I got her cuz I wanted to make you feel better, but if she makes you feel worse, then I can always find another home for her.”

Mark sniffles a little, his forehead pressed against your chest. “I don’—don’ think I want you t’get rid of her,” he mumbles, the admission soft and full of hesitance. “I just…um…it’s…”

You stay quiet, letting him gather his thoughts. He sniffles a bit, cuddling further into your chest, and your heart aches at how childlike and fragile he seems. He gets like this sometimes—usually when he’s tired or upset, or feeling particularly needy. You won’t tell him this, but these moments where he seems so young actually are part of the reason you decided to get him a stuffed animal. You have some…suspicions about what’s happening in his head right now, suspicions you’ve formed after plenty of research on the internet, but you still haven’t figured out a way to broach the subject. You get the feeling that if you try to get Mark to talk about his moments of regression, he’ll get upset and end up shutting down on you. Case in point: his reaction to you giving him the stuffed poodle.

Perhaps you should’ve thought your plan through more, but you’ll have time to beat yourself about it later. Mark still hasn’t spoken up, and your stomach is starting to ache with hunger pains, so you give him a small squeeze and a kiss on the head before taking a small step back.

“It’s okay, sweet pea,” you say gently, keeping your hands on Mark’s shoulders and rubbing them lightly. “We can talk more after dinner, okay? Get you some food and some time to think. Doesn’t that sound nice?” 

Mark sniffs, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Mm...o-okay,” he says quietly, one of his hands fiddling with the poodle’s ears.

You smile softly and give him another kiss, this time on his forehead. “Some food will do you good,” you say, letting your hands drop in front of you. “Do you wanna help me in the kitchen? I can use someone who can help me stir…”

Your voice goes up at the end, trying to entice him. Mark is quiet for another long moment, before he nods, shifting a little in place.

“Mm…won’t have’ta chop anything, right?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head a bit. “Nope, no chopping this time, I promise. There’ll be no chance of hurting your cute little fingers this time.”

Mark ducks his head and pouts, his face going pink. “Shush,” he grumbles, kicking his feet a little. He squeezes the stuffy tightly, before holding her at arms length, his brow furrowing a bit. “‘m gonna set her down…don’t want her t’get dirty.”

Despite the certainty of his tone, he looks up at you questioningly, waiting for your approval. You smile reassuringly at him, nodding your head slightly.

“That sounds like a plan, baby. Go ahead and find someplace to put her, and I’ll grab out the ingredients, okay?”

Mark gives you a small smile, and he nods, running out of the room without a verbal response. It feels very toddler like, and you let out a small laugh, turning back to the recipe to figure out what all you’ll need.

You’ll have to talk to him about his childlike headspace…eventually. For now, you turn your focus to searching through your cabinets for the giant pasta shells you know you just bought, ready to get started on dinner as soon as possible.

-

Preparing the pasta goes smoother than expected, Mark uncharacteristically helpful during the process. Normally, he tends to wander off when he’s supposed to be helping, or doesn’t listen to your instructions and ends up doing something wrong or getting hurt, but today he was actually attentive to your instructions, which was nice. He’s also unusually docile, almost disturbingly so, and that does worry you a little. You choose not to make a comment on it, though, figuring that he’s just thinking about the stuffy dilemma. 

Still, you’re proud of the work you both did, and the dish came out pretty good, considering it’s the first time you made it. You’re almost finished with your plate by the time Mark speaks up again, your hunger taking over the minute you took your first bite.

“I think ‘m gonna call her Rosé.”

You lift your head at the sound of Mark’s voice, your brow furrowed. “Who?” you ask dumbly, before realization hits you, your eyes widening. “Oh! Oh, your poodle?”

Mark smiles shyly, pushing his food around on his plate. He still has half of what you gave him left, and you already know he’s not going to eat much more. You fight back the urge to make a comment on it, not wanting to make him feel insecure, even if how little he eats sometimes worries you.

“She’s pink, ‘nd it’s a pretty name, so…Rosé,” he says, his eyes dropping to his plate. He frowns briefly, cutting up one of his shells with his fork. “Fits her.”

“It does,” you agree, your lips widening into a delighted smile. “It fits her very well. I guess you’re going to keep her, then?”

Mark nods, wiggling in place a little, a shy grin on his lips. Your smile widens, and you tilt your cheek into your palm, adoration practically radiating off of you.

“That makes me happy,” you say truthfully, unable to hold back the delight in your voice. “I think you two are gonna get along swimmingly. I got her cuz she seems like a sassy little thing, just like you.” 

“‘m not sassy!” Mark protests, but the smile hasn’t left his face.

“Ohoho, yes you are,” you say, reaching over and poking his side in a particularly ticklish spot. “I can’t count how many times you’ve sassed me in just this week alone.”

Mark giggles, squirming away from you. “Stop! No tickling!” he cries, his cheeks turning a dusty pink. He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest in a pout, and you can’t help but laugh at how cute he looks.

“You’re fucking adorable, you know that?” you ask, tilting your cheek into the palm of your hand.

Mark’s face flushes deeper, and he uncrosses his arms, fiddling with his fork a little. After a moment, though, he suddenly puts his fork down and gets to his feet. You raise your eyebrows as you look at him curiously, and he shifts from foot to foot, looking a bit shy. “I wanna…wanna go get her. If ‘s okay.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course, baby,” you say, leaning over to look at his plate. “Are you gonna…are you gonna finish this, or should I put the rest of this away for you?”

“Um…yeah. Put it away,” he says, fidgeting even more. He ducks his head, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. We can always reheat it later,” you say reassuringly, getting to your feet. “I’ll go get some Tupperware, darling, you just let me know if you want it again later tonight. Alright?”

Mark gives you a tiny smile, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “Mmkay. Thank you.” He pauses, before leaning over and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you,” he repeats, before running off toward the living room.

You huff out a laugh, fondness swelling up in your chest. You take a minute to finish off the rest of your own plate (you only had a few bites left, so you figured you might as well), before scooping up both plates and taking them into the kitchen. You put your plate into the sink and set Mark’s plate on the counter, ducking down to the cabinets underneath to grab a little plastic container to put his leftovers in.

It doesn’t take too long to get it put away, and as soon as you’re done, you head out to the living room to join Mark and his new pal, since apparently he decided not to rejoin you in the dining room. You find the two of them curled up against the arm of the couch, Rosé tucked into Mark’s arms and some period drama you don’t recognize playing softly on tv.

You approach slowly, carefully sitting down next to him. He turns to you when he feels your presence, and he smiles widely at you, scooting into your side. You smile back at him, wrapping an arm around him and holding him close.

“Hi honey,” you coo, something fuzzy and protective swelling up in you as he leans into you with a contented hum. “What’re we watching?”

“Mm, dunno, just put it on,” he mumbles, his fingers playing with one of Rosé’s ears. He tucks his head onto your shoulder, trying to get as physically close to you as possible, just like he always does.

“Hmm, okay,” you say, tilting your head to lean your cheek against his head. You rub your thumb idly against Mark’s side, feeling him relax further and further into you, and you wonder if he’s on his way to a nap. You don’t mind if he does—his weight is comfortable and warm against your side, and the pasta in your stomach has you feeling pleasantly full, so you might drift off a bit yourself.

There’s a long moment of quiet, and for a second, you think maybe he has fallen asleep. But then, he shifts again, lifting his head off of your shoulder to look you in the face.

“Hey, um,” he starts, biting his lip and squirming a little, pressing up against your side. “I really do like her. Thank you.”

Well, doesn’t that just warm your heart. You smile gently at him, tapping him lightly on his nose. “You’re welcome, honey, I’m so glad you do,” you say softly, brushing a stray strand of hair off of his forehead. “I just want to make you happy. You know that?”

Mark huffs, burying his face back in the side of your neck. “Yeahhh…I know…” he mumbles. “You’re mean sometimes though.”

You can practically feel the pout against your skin. You smile, raking your fingers through his hair. “Well, you know I can’t resist teasing you occasionally. But I’m not trying to really hurt your feelings, okay? I promise. You can always tell me if I go too far and make you actually upset.”

Mark nods against the crook of your neck. You play with a few strands of his hair, wrapping them around your fingers, debating whether or not to bring up the whole regression thing. He seems so content, though, curled up against you like this, and you don’t wanna ruin it by making him feel confused and defensive. Besides, you should probably first figure out what you’re going to say before you approach him about it anyway.

You close your eyes, wrapping your arms around him tightly. The soft sound of the television in the background and Mark’s quiet breathing make for soothing ambiance, making a quick after dinner nap feel more and more appealing. It’s not like you guys have anywhere to go, after all, so there’s no reason not to give in to your sleepiness. 

“We sleep?”

Mark’s tiny voice breaks through the quiet, muffled against your shoulder. You chuckle softly, your heart melting a little at how sweet he sounds, and nod slightly against the top of his head.

“Sure looks like it, baby. That okay?”

Mark nods, one of his hands ending up entangled in the fabric of your shirt. You smile, kissing the top of his head before grabbing a blanket bunched up on the cushion next to you, draping it over the both of you.

“There ya go. Are you cozy?”

Mark mumbles his assent, nuzzling further into you. His mutter of “Ro’s comfy too,” is just barely audible, and you’re so glad you caught it cuz god that’s fucking adorable.

“That’s good to hear,” you croon, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Love you, bugaboo. Sleep well.”

Mark mumbles something that sounds like Love you too in response, and it’s not long until he’s snoring lightly, a sure sign that he’s now out like a light.

He’s probably going to drool on your shoulder. He usually does when you two fall asleep together. Luckily, you don’t really mind that much, and you shift a little to get more comfortable, careful not to jostle him too much lest you accidentally wake him. Once you’re settled, you let your head rest on the top of Mark’s, resting your cheek against his fluffy curls.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off like that, falling into a contented, dreamless sleep. There will be things to stress about later, you’re sure of that, but for now, both of you are safe and warm curled up together, and really, that’s more than you could possibly ask for. 

#who killed markiplier #actor mark #y/n the district attorney #agere #marshy writes #i haven't posted a fic on tumblr for a while so i was winging writing that intro so very hard lmao #hopefully it suffices. anyway #this is like the fastest i've ever gotten a fic out i think at least in recent memory i wrote this in like two daze with the help of a lot o #f caffeine. hopefully it's okay in spite of that hgkdlJFLDS #i feel like i should put a title on this thing but i don't have a good one in mind so whatever i'll wait to struggle with that when i #put this on ao3 #god okay i need to shut up now LMAO

[graywolfqueens]

if my got a sweet face anon is still lurking around (or anyone else dropping by about that story) I am actively working on it again, hopefully will have an update by valentines day

#my fic #got a sweet face (but i only play villain) #there might be a rambly authors note when i finally get around to it but suffice it to say that i got busy w/ work #then the holidays #then my bf and i broke up #and now we're here #but i did some writing today for the first time in a while #and im gonna rewatch s2 this week i think

[blkkizzat]

⋆༺𓆩𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘾𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙈𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙅𝙅𝙆 𝙈𝙚𝙣 𓆪༻⋆

18+ Only - Minors DNI Kinks: Boob job, Riding, Edging, Sadism/Darcryphilla, Overstimulation, Double Penetration/Cockwarming A/N: So I am a flop and I went out this weekend and now I have homework to do so I couldn't finish my first Kinktober fic on time but hopefully by this Weds! I did want to post SOMETHING for the 1st day of Kinktober so I hope this suffices! This isn't officially apart of my Kinktober Thrilling Ghouls & Smooth Criminals but will add this to the bottom of the list as a bonus! WK: 2.1k Song Inspo: Monster - Lady Gaga (slightly) Slightly black fem coded but no descriptors

Edit - 11/1: The Trick or Treat Anthology or Halloween Fluff with JJK men is now up as a part 2!

Enjoy!

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Gojo: Tittyfucking

He might be one of the most powerful sorcerers ever and fight curses more terrifying than anything a Hollywood writer can imagine but that doesn’t mean he still isn’t going to scream like a bitch at the tinniest jump scare.  

You watch horror movies with your boyfriend Gojo so he can comfort you but you end up being the one holding on to him.

You suspect at times though he plays it up a bit, just so he can lay his head on your soft tits and rub his face in between them when a “scary part” comes on.

Your suspicions are confirmed when his hands slip up your shirt and pushes up your bra to cup your tits.

“Aw come, on babe let me just play with them a little– they’re like stress balls.” This always results in him somehow convincing you to let him straddle you. Gojo is placing his already-dripping-and-hard cock between your tits even before half the movie is over. “Aw, come on pretty girl, I’m so close! Open up that tight little mouth for me wide like you scream when a scary part comes on.” He groans out as he fucks himself between your soft tiddies. “You mean the way you scream Satoru!?” you retort rolling your eyes.  Clearly you haven't learned much Gojo thinks. Your slick mouth gets you into trouble frequently with him and you are quickly silenced when he reaches back and shoves 3 long fingers in your dripping cunt. Your pussy tightens as his fingers continue to bully themselves deeper thrusting in time with his hips into your breasts. AHHH! SHIIIIIIIT TORU, F-FUCK! “No sweet girl, I mean the way you screamed just now.” Gojo says smugly taking advantage of your scream to bust ropes of his hot seed on your tongue.

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Nanami: Riding

Nanami loves to do things you like to do to make you happy. He even will sit through one of your trashy horror movies without complaint.  

Although he might end up reading a novel or the paper after 15-20 minutes, he will never miss a chance to give you reassuring kisses to the temple or a rub on your lower back whenever you get scared. 

However you can’t watch horror movies with him because you are actually the one always distracted by him.

The way his handsome face looks utterly uninterested in the movie other than an arched brow on occasion but still is still sitting here for you and even makes sure to take care of you is too sexy to you.

So sexy you slowly become less interested in whatever the hell you were watching and more needy for him to pay attention to you. 

This always results with you bouncing in his lap midway through. “What about your monster movie Y/N?” Nanami questions you amused. His voice has an air teasing concern. Your mouth goes slack as drool and moans spill from your lips, you can’t form a reply. You just lean to bury your head into his neck wrapping your arms around him holding on. When you tire yourself like this, Nanami assists in you riding him as his hands grip your soft waist. He brings you up to his tip almost pulling out of you completely before he forcibly drives you further back down onto his dick. You bottom out on him every time your hips come down on his lap, you’re practically screaming at this point. “Nothing more monstrous than Daddy’s cock stretching this tight cunt full, isn't that right doll?” Nanami coos in your ear.

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Toji: Edging 

Yeah you’ve just gotten to the point where you don’t even put on a movie to watch when Toji is over. 

His attention span for it is zero as nothing scares his ass ever so the opening credits aren’t even over before he already has his hand down your pants.

Toji lazily plays with your clit and teases your pussy with his fingers while you try and fail miserably to ignore him enough to watch your movie. 

You pouted at him as you really wanted to watch your favorite horror movie tonight!

However by the 20 minute mark you are now begging him to let you come.  

“Nah, baby see this is the good part.” Toji says, smirking into the back of your neck. Toji has not a single fucking clue what’s happening in the movie he just wants to teach you a lesson.  He sucks on the back of your neck hard enough to leave a mark, making you moan. However, you are still left unsatisfied. Just when you think the burning between your legs will consume you he resumes digging his thick fingers into your guts. Toji knows your insides so well he knows how your pussy feels the moment before your body will release sweet toe-curling-bliss and his hands come to a complete stop again. “Daddy, Puh-leaseee!” You beg with tears in your eyes as you lean your head back to pout at him. You grab the hand in your cunt to try to force him to move again to no avail. “Not a chance, brat. You wanted to watch this shitty ass movie so bad. So we are going to watch the entire fucking thing before I let you come Y/N.” "What are we even watching– " Toji grabs the remote and the overlay pops up. "Oh Alien? Yeah, you picked a long one this time slut, buckle up."

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Choso: Overstimulation

Choso’s edgy emo ass is more than happy to watch horror movies with you. 

However due to his curse abilities, Choso is constantly pointing out the technical feasibility of the movie so much it ruins it for you. 

Don't let it be a slasher movie as Choso is non-stop critiquing “That blood spray pattern isn’t realistic” and “Did you know you could lose up to 40% of your blood?” 

You end up being so annoyed with your forensic encyclopedia boyfriend you grab his face to kiss him in order to stop his ranting.

Choso ends up repentant as the death painter comes to the realization he forgot himself again and ends up spoiling yet another scary movie for you.

Choso hates upsetting his princess so he always ends up trying to make it up to you. Truly, just shutting the hell up and watching the movie would be enough for you. Yet that wasn’t good enough repentance for Choso and as a result you ended up face down on the sofa while he ate you out from the back.  A true munch to the core this man was a messy eater. Tongue, lips, nose all up in your cunt. Slurping, lapping, nibbling– Choso kept his face in your pussy gobbling up your juices like he hadn’t consumed any liquid in days. He once remarked your pussy tasted more refreshing than water. You would wonder when the man even took time for a breath if he didn’t have you squirting to the point of mind numbing overstimulation, your legs shaking and chest heaving. “Keep those hips up Y/N baby, I’m not done apologizing.”   He slaps your ass and is so transfixed by how your pussy dribbles out a lil more squirt he does it again, returning his mouth to your cunt to suck out more fluids.  “FuckFuck I- F-uck… I f-forgive you C-Choso damnit -OH!,” you babbled and came on his tongue again for the umpteenth time that night.  "That's it baby, keep being messy on my face yeah? Let me show that nasty lil slit how sorry I am, 'kay?" Completely pussy drunk Choso sounded deranged. This man was going to completely dehydrate you before the night was over. 

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Geto: Sadism/Darcryphilla 

Geto is probably the easiest one to watch horror movies with by far. He actually is amused by them and how bad they all are.

He will let you lay reclined on him and run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly giving you a scalp massage.

The big problem here though is that your squeals and yelps of fear make his dick throb.

Even better if you get so scared there's tears that start falling. He wont be able to stop his hard dick from straining against the fabric of his pants.

Geto loves to hear you cry out so much that if the movie isn’t scary enough he had been so inclined on occasion to release a relatively harmless, yet gruesome looking, curse to pop up behind the TV. He would wait for a suspenseful part to really give you a fright and start the waterworks.

Although as much as he loves the sound of your cries there’s a sound he loves even more.

“F-Fuck, you hear her princess?” Geto is ruthless when he is pussydrunk and he makes you hold your legs wider for better access as he roughly splits open your cunt in a mating press.  Your pussy is a gooey mess as you cream around him from what has to be the 5th time that night. In your own cockdrunk stupor you wonder how long he has been pumping into you and filling you up now.  Is the movie over?  But you can’t see anything as his long hair and dark robes dangle open around you. You also can’t hear anything except for the obscene squelch of fluids gushing out of your cunt. All you can do is hold your legs and take Geto’s assault on your body until he had his fill of you. “Sugu–” you sobbed in protest but he cut you off. “Shhh, Y/N quiet while she’s talking to me–” He reaches down grabbing your soaked and discarded panties before balling them up. Geto pushed them into your mouth, muffling your cries as thick tears seeped down your face.  “Awe, baby I love you… but I only want to hear from her right now. Shit, this filthy pussy is a real scream queen.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Sukuna: Double Penetration/Cockwarming

Yeah he is straight up the worst to watch with. 

He will most definitely ridicule you and make you feel like an idiot when you ask him to watch a scary movie of all things with you. 

“Oh my ditzy lil’ slut wants to see something scary?” No, you remind him you do NOT want to find some random sorcerers just to see just how quickly and in how many different ways his Malevolent Shrine domain could kill someone.

If you pout enough though he eventually relent. On his terms.

Sukuna lets you know if you get what you want, he gets what he wants too.

What does Sukuna want? He wants you double stuffed and dumb on his cocks, of course. Your cunt and your ass are both stretched to their limits from his huge twin cocks in his True Form. Sukuna tells you mockingly long as you kept sitting nice ‘n pretty for him, he would watch the movie with you. “Hmmmrghhhh”, you moan as your eyes roll back into your head and your body trembles. It’s hard to even breathe when you are this full of him. You feel as if his dicks are reaching up into your throat as you choke for air. Winded from just sitting on him, the gravity alone had you cockdrunk on him almost instantly as you felt his four hands everywhere along your body. You gasp out loud when you hear him laugh and the hardy vibrations from his chest travel straight into your pussy. You clench and cream around his cocks. Not even his huge cocks could plug you up enough to keep from dripping a big giant wet spot onto your sofa that he definitely wont be helping you clean up later. “HA! Brat, you see that fucking loser who cried ‘I’ll never leave you’ then his head flew off two seconds later? What a dumbfuck.”  Scary movies were like comedies to The King of Curses.  He slaps your thigh for emphasis. Sukuna is both equally entertained by how stupid the movies humans called 'horror' are as well as you trying to keep from blacking out on his cocks. An hour in, you were doing so well he smirked. “Brat!” Sukuna growled when you didn’t answer him. You were supposed to be watching the fucking movie.  “Come on slut, pay attention" he taps your cheek (lighter than you expect) as you gurgle back in response, completely gone. "Don't cry so hard for me to watch next time brat if y'er gonna tap out like this just from sitting on some cocks.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: Reblog or comment and tell me which JJK man you'd watch with. Likes are appreciated as well!

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

#☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳 #♋︎kizzatcooks #♋︎kizzatcookedthat #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #toji fushiguro smut #gojo satoru smut #nanami kento smut #choso kamo smut #sukuna ryomen smut #geto suguru smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #toji x reader #nanami smut #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto x reader #satoru x reader #nanami x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #kinktober masterlist #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen

[silkjade]

WICKED DRAGON, LAY WASTE TO ME

⤀ synopsis: neuvillette has always been the gentlest of lovers—and so tonight you ask him not to hold back ⤀ cw: afab!reader, unprotected + rough sex, size kink, praise, overstimulation, breeding + creampie, marking, monsterfucking (dragon cock), cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, dumbification, mentions of mates, lil bit of dom!neuvi (??) but he is still sweet — mdni || ꒰ 8.4k wc ꒱ a/n: leviathan fic for leviathan neuv ( i’m not talking abt his constellation ) rbs + feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡

“Well? What do you think?” You come home, twirling before him in a gown, different than the one you had left in. The short hem at the front lifts mischievously, teasing just a peek of what lies underneath, while the longer, flouncing layers of skirts behind you, wrap flirtatiously around your legs. Neuvillette feels his throat run dry.

“Navia and Clorinde thought it was high time I changed my look, and you know I can’t ever say no to Chioriya Boutique.” 

While he’s spent the better part of the night reviewing court documents in the parlor, you have been out with Navia and Clorinde, who he thinks have perhaps plotted to kill him. ‘Girls’ night,’ you had called it.

Draped in a vivid palette of the finest fabrics, decorated interchangeably with delicate metalwork and dainty ribbons, the blush on his pale skin is ever-present as he rakes his eyes up and down your body. The dark, patterned stockings, squeezing your thighs just enough, so that supple flesh spills obscenely over the top, the tight, whale-boned embrace of your corset, accentuating the curves of your waist, and pushing upwards the swell of your breasts…

A coy smile graces your features when you catch how his throat bobs in his silence. Giggling, you lean down, tracing the tip of your finger up the contours of his neck, skimming the gentle curve beneath his chin until you’ve tilted his gaze to yours. “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, got nothing to say?”

How can he even think, much less find the right words to say, when the familiar scent of your perfume fills his head with indecent, lascivious thoughts? Everything about you is intoxicating, almost insidiously attractive, so would it suffice to say that he’d much rather see your pretty, new dress abandoned somewhere on the floor? 

That first pulse of arousal translates into the first twitch of his cock, and oh how he wishes to kiss away your teasing little grin, but his lust-driven eyes are drawn to the miniscule movements of your bodice sleeve, predatory as he watches how it begins to shift, ever so slowly, off your shoulders. 

“If you don’t like it, then perhaps…” You loosely roll your shoulder, letting the sleeve slide right off. “…you’d like to help me undress?”

That, he will gladly do. His hands fly to your waist, dragging you down into a straddle over his hips. 

“Temptress,” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, distracting you with a featherlight kiss as his nimble fingers waste no time in undoing the delicate clasps of your bodice, leaving the heavy outer garment to tumble off your shoulders, abandoned in a pile at your waist. 

Cool air licks at the now exposed skin, though it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his lips as he slots his mouth against yours, gently coaxing you open with a subtle swipe of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut in honeyed complacence, allowing Neuvillette to kiss you slow and sweet; impassioned, ardent, each kiss an oath of love and longing and lust. 

Desire blooms like romaritime flowers upon water, and you just know the tension underneath his placid exterior, is ready to burst. It’s prevalent in the way his muscles grow taut, tense beneath your every touch, fighting to hold himself back as your legs squeeze around his hips. Demonstrated, again, by how he pulls apart your corset, impatient and haphazard as he unlaces each cross, before tossing it to the ground, forgotten. And of course, only you can attest to the searing sensations of his escalating kisses—gentle wisps, once faint and docile, now wanton and heated with depravity. 

You can already feel it in your chest, in your bones, in the wetness that’s begun to form between your legs; maybe it’s the anticipation, but despite the layers of clothing you���ve already shed, you find it even harder now to breathe, especially as he holds you so close, body pressed against yours, while he traces the bare curve of your neck with his lips. 

For one with such a carefully crafted visage of elegance and poise, Neuvillette becomes sloppier as his restraint fades and lust seeps through the cracks. Something about you drives him wild, draws out the more carnal side of him that he so desperately seeks to hide away from you, who he could never even dream of hurting. 

But perhaps he’s spent too much time amongst humans. Or perhaps he understands their nature more than he had initially believed, for he makes the most human mistake of all in letting his control slip—enough that his fangs graze upon your sensitive skin, sending a shiver that reaches all the way down to your core, eliciting a moan so mellifluous, he cannot help but utter a sigh of strained content as the undeniably sweet sound reaches his ears.

“If we don’t stop now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back,” he mutters, tongue laving over the spot in apology. It doesn’t help that you voluntarily crane your neck, offering him even more access in your heated bliss. His fingers dig into your waist in a silent plea to still your rolling hips. 

“So don’t,” you breathe. “Don’t hold back tonight.” Desperate to have him closer, you arch into him, the loose material of his shirt firmly clasped in your hands, deepening the kiss with a quick tug, a silent request for him to let go, but he immediately halts his movements, pulling away in hesitance. 

Oh Neuvillette. Your sweet Neuvillette, who in spite of his stern exterior, is the gentlest of lovers—always so tender with you and steadfast in placing your pleasure before his. You know of his draconic origins, know that he holds back in fear of hurting you, but for all the times he’s pleased you to the fullest extent, you only wish to do the same for him.

Your hand reaches to cup his face and he leans into your familiar touch, steely eyes soft. “It’s okay, I trust you.”

It’s already difficult denying you anything on a normal basis, so how can he, now that you sit, straddled over him, determination colored in your bright eyes, and with nothing but flimsy cloth left between the two of you. His eyes linger at your chest, the scooping neckline of your lace slip doing nothing to hide the smooth crests of your collarbones, begging to be marked. 

Neuvillette sucks in a breath, and attempts to swallow his doubts, before exhaling. He can no longer ignore the tightness in his groin, and to you, it’s clear that the obvious erection poking from beneath his trousers, speaks much louder than the uncertainty storming in his eyes. Perhaps he just needs one more push…

Your fingers come to curve around the sharp lines of his jaw, unwavering as you tilt his head up into your gaze. “Don’t worry about me, I can take it.”

His heart threatens to leap out of his chest in a flash of excitement, gratitude, desire; it’s far from the first time you’ve lain together, but to choose to bear such vulnerability before him, to surrender yourself to a full-fledged dragon… He glides his hands over the round slopes of your shoulders, easily sliding off the straps of your slip as he goes. The silk garment collapses down your torso, piling atop your forgotten dress. 

“If that is truly what you wish…” He presses an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin between your breasts, and the warmth of his breath runs a chill even colder than the night air. His whispers hide a growl, and despite the blush apparent at the tips of his pointed ears, his hold on your waist tightens. One hand slides down to grasp at your rear, and you can feel him smile against your lips, the rattle of a faint chuckle rippling in his throat before your breath hitches as he picks you up in his arms, and carries you off to the bedroom. 

He sets you by your shared bed, tearing off his now wrinkled shirt, while you wriggle out of whatever’s left of your dress, until both sets of clothing are discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re finally left in only your panties and your stockings.

Immediately, his hands find your waist, roaming up and down over your curves as he smothers you in hungry kisses, herding you along until the backs of your knees hit the edge of your shared bed. This Neuvillette nips at your bottom lip, not asking for, but demanding entrance into your mouth, and you have no choice but to let him in, what with the way he makes you whine as he sneaks his hands down to knead the globe of your ass, before lowering you onto the bed. 

The tingling sensations bloom in your stomach, buzzing with excitement while you ready yourself to surrender completely—pliant to his will, whatever it may be. Arousal swallows you like the sea and he has yet to even really touch you. Impatient, your hand wanders, though not far down enough before you’re caught in his grasp. 

“Patience…” he mutters, pinning your wrist beside your head, broad shoulders caging you in between him and the sheets. His other hand follows the natural lines of your body, tracing along the edges until he stops to fondle one of your breasts. 

It’s impossible to relax your speeding heart at this side of Neuvillette: less reserved in his touches, more candid in his wants. The untreated heat in your body makes sure to touch on every part of you, running like water through your veins, until you’re sure your dripping cunt is pulsing with a heart of its own. Unable to stand the ache any longer, you wriggle beneath him—rolling your hips and squirming until your knee unwittingly brushes against his crotch, eliciting a choked grunt from him, only slightly muffled by the fact that his teeth have dug their way into your exposed flesh. 

He immediately pulls away at the sound of your surprised yelp, eyes darting to and fro across your features in frantic search for even the smallest semblance of discomfort, completely missing the way your entire body had seemed to arch into his touch. His eyes finally settle at the light indentations now displayed upon your once unblemished skin.

“Forgive me,” he begins, “I should have been more careful.” Neuvillette is ever the gentleman, but his voice is clearly strained in a poor attempt at fighting back his instincts—instincts that demand a dragon to mark what is his. 

“There’s nothing to forgive.” A soft smile graces your lips as your hand reaches to cradle his face, curling around his jaw in hushed reassurance. It’s so easy to read the thoughts that plague him so. “It felt good, I promise.”

True to your word, his heightened senses easily pick up on the scent of pure arousal that drifts from between your legs, swirling in the air, and lulling him into a state he’s kept buried for so long, he’s unsure of whether he’d be able to hold himself back even if he wanted to. He admires your bravery for daring to poke at the slumbering beast; bravery he knows stems from a place of passion, but how can he release such inhibitions upon a mere human? So physically… fragile. 

“I meant what I said: I can take it. And I know you won’t hurt me so…” Your fingers clasp around his shoulders, pulling your lover down just far enough to whisper, low and sultry, in his pointed ear.

“Don’t you dare look down on me, o’ hydro dragon sovereign..” 

You lurch forward, manicured nails drawing light lines down his bare back, and he meets you halfway in a long, drawn out kiss. A quiet growl rumbles from deep within his throat, clearly aroused by the way you had drawled out his full title. He nips at your bottom lip, dragging out a single, short gasp before leaving to trail wet kisses down the column of your throat, never stopping until his lips hover over the very spot where he had previously made his mark. 

He doesn’t even have to touch you, just his presence, tangled with your own anticipatory excitement, invites a shudder so deep, you can feel it in your bones. The sharp edge of his fangs scrape along that still-sensitive patch of skin, lightly, as if testing the waters, though this time, he makes sure to take note of the quiver in your pretty little mewls. 

Slowly, he bites down again and a moan slips past your lips, forced out from the very depths of your chest as your fingers fly to tangle in his moonridden tresses. His hot breath seeps past the barrier of your skin, leaving every nerve privy to his effect, and combined with the building pressure, you’re left open for the stream of soft whimpers that leave the perfect ‘o’ of your parted lips. As he sinks his teeth deeper, you squeeze your eyes shut in the midst of all the pleasure.

“Do it again,” you gasp, “felt good… ”

And oh, he has absolutely every intention to, what with the way you’re putty underneath him. However, he must do something about how distracting your hands are when you tug at his hair: hard enough for him to groan with an ache so wanton, it sends tremors echoing down until his trousers feel far, far too tight. 

Neuvillette is neither here nor there when he alternates between kissing and sucking and biting at your tender flesh—anywhere is fair game when you’ve relinquished yourself to him like this. With how attentive his lips are along your body, you hardly even care for the absence of his hand when he reaches around to untie the ribbon in his hair… at least not until it’s too late and you're left bemused by the uncharacteristic display of boldness; after all, it’s all you can do when your wrists are suddenly so tightly bound overhead.

You whine as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue, while he ravishes the other between his fingers. Heat surges through you and the aching desperation congregating in your belly begins to boil; you’ve never felt so sensitive, never been more pervasive to his touch.

Inside. You need him inside of you. But with your hands currently incapacitated, you’ve no other choice except to buck into him, beckoning him with your hips in the hopes of redirecting his attention to where you throb. 

“Inside. Please. I need you. Need you inside.” 

He hums in acknowledgement of your wishes, tugging at the hardened bud with his teeth, successfully wringing another shaky cry from your throat, before he finally pulls at the delicate lace of your panties, and guides them down the length of your legs. You easily kick them off, but in his observation, his piercing gaze catches every thrum of your muscles as they tense underneath the hand that finally trails between your thighs. He drags his lithe fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, while his thumb rubs your clit in slow, but firm, circles. 

“My apologies for the wait.” Neuvillette kisses you right above your heart, where his acute hearing easily picks up how it palpitates as he dips his fingers into your velvet walls. “Allow me to make amends, my love.”

With the way your cunt gushes so copiously, it’s easy for him to slide all the way down to the last knuckle. He flicks his wrist, pumping fast and hard, scissoring you open before slipping in a third digit, drawing out mewl after pathetic mewl, as you fail to pull yourself together. The bedsheets twist beneath your incessant movements: simultaneously squirming not only from the initial stretch, but also to feel him deeper.

The discomfort is all too familiar, but with just the curl of his fingers, it washes away into unadulterated pleasure, just as it always does. But with your arms tethered, leaving you open and powerless, everything—every touch, every twist, every curl—feels tenfold.

Plus, no one would even believe you if you were to say that the chief justice had such a playful side in the bedroom; his fingers have explored your insides far too many times for him to just miss the little spot that he definitely knows by muscle memory. Whining, you buck your hips, senselessly grinding into his hand, hoping he’d get the message, hoping he’d quell your heat right at the source. 

But something dangerous and wild and primordial shines in the blue-violet glow of his eyes. For all the times you’ve made love together, he’s never seen you like this: so desperate, so needy for him. He pinches a nipple, hard, before locking your jolting hips down; a show of strength to remind you of your place. 

“Please, more.” Your voice rises in congruence with how you struggle against your ribbon-bound wrists. His fingers tease the spot again, this time with more force, and he watches as you keen and clench around him—helpless and at his mercy. 

With a curl, his fingers crook inside your silken walls, pistoning in and out, fast and hard. Arousal continues to build, turning the low squelches into distinct suctions. Every nerve in your body is ignited, seared by the heat as he laps at the overflowing wetness that seeps out of your entrance. A satisfied purr sounds in his throat, and the vibrations dare your hips to buck in spite of the iron grip that holds you down.  

It thrills him to see you steadily fall apart like this, coming so undone before him, dissolving under the weight of your pleasure. It’s just as you had wanted. More. So you can take it, can’t you? You can take more? 

Neuvillette slots your throbbing clit into his mouth, hot tongue relentlessly striking the swollen nub with viscous lashes, while his fingers continue to bully your insides with no intention of slowing down. Sucking harder, fucking faster—you keen at the added stimulation, back arching clean off the bed in blinding pleasure, unable to do anything more than let out jagged sobs as you cum.

Your entire body grows taut as he sees you through the end of this high, before finally drawing out with one last sleight of his hand, so that his fingertips might graze along the velvet top of your walls, bidding farewell with another shudder-inducing wave of euphoria. He exits his soiled digits, clearly pleased as he inspects the amount of slick that coats his elegant hand. 

“You’re absolutely divine.” He hums whilst licking up the side of his wrist, so as not to waste a single drop of your liquid pleasure. It’s intoxicating how exquisite you are, more decadent than even the most pristine of waters. “Perhaps you’d like a taste?”

His offer is rhetorical at best, as he answers for you, already slipping his slender fingers into your open mouth, tangling them with your tongue, until the first bits of drool begin to dribble from your lips. 

He unties your wrists, releasing them from the ribbon’s hold; time and experience have proven that you’ll need something to grasp onto. In a haste, Neuvillette discards what remains of his clothes, and his cock springs forward in all its glory: long and thick, pale tip leaking and thrumming with desire. 

“You’re absolutely sure… ?” he mumbles, voice trailing off, almost embarrassed. He can no longer control the way his hips twitch in excitement, begging to bury his cock into your warmth, but for his gentle heart’s sake, he needs to hear you say it again.

You laugh out a soft ‘yes’ but just for good measure, you rake your nails down his chest, applying just enough pressure to tickle his nerves. “Use me,” you goad. “Come on. Be wicked, my dragon.” 

Neuvillette exhales, chuckling softly at humanity's arrogance. Wicked dragon. If that was what you wanted... “I wonder if you’d still say the same after I’ve finished with you.”

He pins you back down in one fell move, and aligns himself to your entrance, stopping after inserting only the tip. A delicate whimper leaves your lips as you wince at that familiarly sweet stretch, but you and your little cunt are both so eager to please—the continued arousal you churn out, weeping nonstop, and already clenching around just his cockhead. You wriggle into him, trying to fuck yourself deeper on his fat cock as you adjust to his size. 

Reaching up, you pull him into a seemingly reassuring kiss, hands smoothing over the framing pieces of his hair, before curving around his jaw. His lips follow yours, but as you pull away and the short pieces of his hair fall back into place, you notice how his slitted reptilian pupils are dilated almost round. 

“You wish for me not to hold back,” his voice comes in a low growl as he inches further into your cunt, “so please show me how resilient you are.”

It’s all the warning you receive before he slides the rest of his length to the hilt, burying himself in your creamy insides. A shattered sob tears through the room, and your arms fly around his neck in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself, but it only pulls him closer as he leans more of his weight into you, pressing down and reinforcing the heavy plow of his merciless hips. 

Taking him all at once like this burns like wildfire. Pain from the sudden, rough stretch spreads hot and fast, the small embers bursting into a blaze of arousal as pleasure breezes through just as quickly—like air infinitely adding to an already devouring flame. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises, turning his head to reward a small kiss to your cheek. Your hole gushes, rushing to quell the heat, and the added lubrication helps you settle into his pace. Still, the dual sensations wash over you like the tide. It pulls you under, drowns you and consumes you with absolute ecstasy.

And just when you think you’ve grown accustomed, Neuvillette lifts your hips, aiming for the spot he knows will drag out the most wonderfully broken cries from your throat. Your nails dig into his back, and he groans at the vice grip as you clamp down around his cock. With each powerful thrust, he buries himself balls deep with a force that has your tits bouncing along to his rhythm, letting the wanton sound of your sobs ring throughout the room, loud enough to almost drown out the lewd noise of skin slapping upon skin. 

The coil in your belly is wound so tight that you’re sure it won’t be long until it collapses into itself. That it won’t be long until you yourself are about to implode, like a star ready to burst. 

“I’m going… going to…” Between the ragged breaths and the overwhelming sensations of ecstasy, you can’t even find it in yourself to think straight.

Neuvillette hums, his liquid smooth voice doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You’d do well not to break so soon.”

He thumbs your clit, drawing tight circles, ignoring the way you convulse beneath him. As your back arches, he drags the flat of his teeth from the edges of your collarbones, down through the valley between your breasts. 

Your entire body quivers, legs jolting by reflex to the intensity of your orgasm, vision blurring white as your lover continues to pound relentlessly through your high. There’s a layer of fuzziness over your mind that leaves you feeling as if you’re floating atop calm waters, but the fingers still thrumming on your abused nub are quick to drag you back into the salaciously dangerous depths of your own pleasure. 

A string of pitched whines follow in the aftermath, but the pretty noises you make has him throbbing even from within your tight hole. You ask him not to hold back, yet here you are before him, so small and pitiful, already writhing from the intensity—and he hasn’t even cum yet. 

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, your body struggling for a break from the stimulation, but Neuvillette finds it quite adorable, in the way that a predator might toy with its prey. He slows his thrusts, but reaches deeper with every roll of his hips, each languid stroke hitting the exact spot that fills your sight with stars. 

The lascivious sounds of your soaked cunt perfectly swallowing his cock, followed by the slap of his heavy balls on your ass—he’s mesmerized by the way he disappears and reappears, and disappears again inside of you. His heart skips, and he bucks, breaking his rhythm. You undo him like no other, and it spurs him on that he too, seems to have the same effect on you. The way your pussy holds on to him so tightly, the helpless cries of his name amidst your hiccuped whimpering… 

He lets out a small chuckle, breath hot and ragged in your ear as he sucks at the inch of skin below. “Surely you can give me another,” he murmurs, the low grumble of his voice reverberating all the way down, until you can feel the vibrations in the hollows of your collarbone. 

Your eyes flutter, desperately blinking away the wetness that has begun to gather at your lash line. Sweet Neuvillette, your Neuvillette who reveres you more than he ought to and touches you like you’re made of glass. Even through the numbing haze, you know that for him, you’d give anything. 

A long, stuttered moan breaks out from between your lips. As if biding his time, he drags the entirety of his cock along your walls, the large vein that wraps around the length gliding along just right, that your back arches and your knees bend. It’s not that he means to move so tortuously slow, but you squeeze him to such an extent that in spite of his aching need to cum, he cannot help but try and savor the delicious way your walls are gripping for dear life. 

Neuvillette pulls out with the sticky squish of your slick. His throbbing cock, long and flushed, glistens with the sheen of your juices. In the emptiness, you think that perhaps he’s taken pity on you and your now overly sensitive cunt, but that just isn’t fair. Not to him, nor you and your once again looming orgasm.

“You haven’t even cum yet,” you gasp, trying to argue through baited breath. The whole point of this was so that he could feel just as good as he always made sure you did. So why would he—

“I know.” 

You can feel him as he lifts you, flipping you over like you’re nothing more than a doll, and manhandles you onto all fours. Limbs weak, mind frazzled, you’re barely able to hold yourself up, so when he realigns himself at your entrance and slams back through your folds with just as much power as before, you quite literally fall apart. 

“Too much?” The low chuckle in your ear is dangerously taunting, wickedly amused and with no sign of its usual sweetness. You’re able to muster a pitiful whine, but the way your entire body trembles tells him everything he needs to know, as he reangles you mid-thrust.

“I believe you said you could take it.” With a particularly powerful snap of his hips, your arms buckle, and you collapse onto the mattress. The intensity continues to send you jolting forward, but his reaffirmed grip on your waist holds your hips in place.

Nothing deters him as he ruts into you, hitting deep new angles that have your fingers grasping at the sheets while your cunt grasps onto his cock. With every slap of his skin against yours, his tip threatens to kiss your cervix, the aftershocks rippling through you until they’re released as broken sobs, muffled into the bed. 

How unfortunate that such noises, so very sweet to his ears, would be hidden from the world. Tangling his fingers along your scalp, Neuvillette tugs at your hair, lifting your head back so as to hear the pretty melody you sing when your cries ring around the room. Good. Just as the whole of Fontaine should recognize a dragon’s mark on your skin, they too should hear it’s he who pleasures your body so.

Little bits of drool trickle out of your open mouth, your eyes rolling back as he keeps up the brutal pace. Everything feels too overwhelming, yet so tantalizingly good, that your back curves and you’re creaming around him again. 

Electricity shoots through your veins, your lungs desperately racing to catch up with the rapid beat of your heart. The stars painted across your vision drop down to your stomach, exploding with an intensity that rattles you to your core. It’s a flood with no remorse—taking and leaving nothing in return, easily washing away any and all thoughts, until you’re left mewling the name of the only one who could ever give you such a sweet taste of heaven. 

But Neuvillette continues to thrust into you, and as he, too, nears his peak, his tireless strokes finally melt into something a little more forgiving. Just a little. The long drag of his cock slides so smoothly against your slick walls, gentle enough to fool your delirious mind into loosening your grip around him. 

What trickery from the wicked dragon who slams his hips forward with enough force so that your body jostles with every push and pull as he hits all the right spots again and again. Trapped under the weight of his body, all you can do is feel: the heat of the room smothering all your senses, the fervorous thrusts pushing you to your very limit—all you can do is feel and take it as he kisses the spongy head of your cervix, leaving you without a semblance of sanity, blabbering indiscernible nothings that beg to milk him dry.       

“Want more,” you keen, voice as broken as the crystalline tears that roll down your cheeks and melt into the pillows. “Inside. Wan’ it inside.”

Neuvillette laughs, low and airy, strained as his grip tightens, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough that it’d be sure to leave bruises come the morrow. “Is that what you want?”

“Please, please I–” You stop to let out something between a pant and a moan. “Want you to, h-hah, cum inside, wan’ your cum inside me.” Your walls clamp down even harder, as if attempting to trap his cock deep inside you forever, as if you weren’t already tight enough around him. 

White fills his vision, and white fills your womb as Neuvillette cums to the knowledge that you love this. He takes in the sight of you, his precious treasure, now reduced to the likes of a common whore: legs quivering, ass in the air, cunt filled to the brim and leaking from where the two of you merge. All for him. By his doing. 

Such splendor automatically evokes the instinct to claim you in a way far beyond that of human understanding… but you’ve already let him indulge more than enough tonight; he couldn’t possibly ask for more. 

You whimper when you feel him stir again inside you, careful as he brushes past your too-sensitive folds, but even such simple movements hazard to relight the flicker of arousal once again. Every ridge and vein, drawn out so agonizingly slow, sends an inadvertent shiver down your spine until he finally pulls out with a squelch.  

There’s no hope in tearing those sharp, reptilian eyes away from your puffy cunt, abused and messy and leaking with your combined fluids. Neuvillette sucks in a breath, trying to suppress his urges as much as he’s trying to swallow down the desire quickly boiling over in his belly again. Cumming inside you—no, breeding you—was a privilege. For dragons such as he, it’s a ritual reserved only for mates, and given the difference in your physiology, he had never allowed himself to do so—at least not until now, that is. 

In his defense, you had begged for it, and how could he ever deny the very one whom he has entrusted his heart to—especially when you were so beautifully fucked out and unraveled on his cock like that. And perhaps he’s lived among humans long enough to forgive this indulgence as a paradigm of fleeting desire, though nothing of what he feels for you could ever be considered fleeting. 

He parts your folds with two slender fingers, giving himself a better view as his cum now seeps out with suent access. You whine again when you feel him drag his digits down the sides of your pussy lips, catching the overflow before it can fall onto the sheets, and stuffing it right back into your little hole. No point in stopping now, if he’s already committed his sin.

From your half-lidded gaze, you manage to steal a glance at your lover, and judging from the erection that still stands stiff as a rod, he has yet to be satiated. In the attempt to break through the shadow of delirium, you lift your head, shifting your weight back onto your elbows, and forcing your battered body to turn just the slightest bit over. 

“You’re still hard,” you note through staggered breath, “We can go again if you want.”

Neuvillette looks down as if he hasn’t already been feeling the near painful arousal throbbing in his groin. Of course he’s still hard—how could he not be; you’re so complacent before him, offering yourself to him like that. But perhaps he is too soft-hearted, for he only lets out a reassuring hum as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“You were beyond perfect tonight,” he murmurs. “It… might not be pleasurable for you if I continue anymore. I can finish myself.” 

Lovestruck, you shake your head. “I can take it r’member?” Your large eyes, red-rimmed and dreamy, plead for him to use you—use you to his own content, use you so that he’d feel just as good as he always makes you feel. You nibble at your bottom lip, bashful. “You can even use your other form if you'd like...” 

Your words catch him off guard, and he immediately stills in a half-hearted attempt to collect himself as another wave of pure, unadulterated desire pulses through his entire being. Neuvillette swallows hard before letting out a slow, shaky breath. His cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath the creamy skin that now seems to gleam with a soft shine, revealing scattered patches of effervescent cerulean scales. You affect him more than you could possibly know, revitalizing such carnal urges that ignore his will and allow his body to react so enthusiastically.

“You’re sure…?” His normally polished tone is husked in a defiant strain. Despite the way his pupils are blown wide and wild with lust, conflict still swims in the shallows of his expression, made clear by the way his voice rasps as he desperately claws to retain even a semblance of his composure. 

The tips of your fingers trace the blue streaks that protrude from the crown of his silver head, now hardened into twin ribbons of ivory; his horns, delicate but strong, glow a luminescent azure—so warm and inviting in its radiance… You grasp them tight, pulling him down with you, as you fall back into the bed, his lips pressed against yours. Of course you’re sure. He’d never hurt you, your Neuvillette would never ever hurt you.

“Devious…” he whispers between kisses, your tongue and teeth clashing in a waltz of their own, as his body drapes over yours. 

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him in this form, crossed somewhere between a human and a dragon, as beautiful as he is powerful. But it’s certainly the first time you’ve ever attempted to take him like this. He’s bigger in this form—you can already feel it as he grinds up between your legs. Longer. Thicker. Ribbed and embossed with the same pearlescent blue scales. Beautifully intimidating, just like the dragon sovereign himself. 

And as you continue to marvel, he lets his cock rest across your lower stomach, sizing you up. His fervor shines through in the way he’s already leaking a mess of sticky precum atop the smooth skin of your belly. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, clearly enthused. 

“This is how deep I’ll be,” he muses, almost apologetic of the incoming stretch you’d have to endure. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can even fit inside you.” 

Would it be wicked of him to admit, even to himself, that he enjoys the way you wriggle and cry just taking him in his human form? And yet… he’s forced to steady his breathing in a poor attempt at grounding himself—a task near impossible as you roll your hips up, ardently shaking your head no, outright ignoring the last out he offers.

“I will… make it fit.” They’re the last words you manage to wrangle out before being overtaken by the need to be full and filled. There’s no reason you should be so terribly, terribly hollow, when he’s right there. Neuvillette chokes back a laugh; your unyielding determination sends blood rushing to his erection, desperate to feel your velvet walls crowd around him again.

Finally relenting, he teases your entrance—running his cock up and down your slit, spreading your wetness, before slapping your clit with the tip—reminding you just how sensitive you still are. Gasping, you jerk away from the stimulation that once again taunts your nerves. Your hole, however, clenches around nothing, eager to please. 

But perhaps you’ve greatly underestimated just how big he is, because he barely makes it past the threshold of your folds, before the pleasure pain of the stretch begins to take over. That, and the overstimulation from your previous orgasms, already have you instinctively trying to snap your legs shut, but the firm hold on your thighs forbid you from doing so.

“Ha-ah N-neuvi—” A twisted sense of pride swells in his chest at the way you can hardly speak as your breath hitches and your lungs desperately search for air. “’s too big,” you sob.

He gives you a momentary reprieve to adjust, while his hand snakes down to run sloppy circles over your clit.

“More?” he whispers. 

It takes you a minute to respond, but he waits until finally your voice shakes with the violence of each hiccupped sob. “More.. please…”

A baritone hum sounds in his throat as he pulls forward, pressing wet kisses to your jaw in a quiet reassurance, effectively sliding a couple inches deeper, as he does so. “You can take it, my love. You’re so pretty like this.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, your hold eliciting a long, low groan from the dragon. Wherever you squirm, he follows, pressing more of his weight onto you, burying more of his cock into you. Each ridged inch that slides past your folds, seems to push the thoughts right out of your head, letting them dissipate into thin air until you’re left mindlessly moaning sweet praises to his name. 

Desperate to accommodate the unfamiliar enormity of his dragon cock, your walls ripple and tense around him, back arching into him, wanting to feel ever closer to the love of your life, determined to push your cunt to its limit for him. For your Neuvillette. 

Neuvillette. Neuvillette. Neuvillete. He’s all you can think about; him and his monster cock that seems to split you so deliciously open. It’s wave after wave of heat that sets your insides ablaze, soothed by the waters of arousal that have you begging for more, and restarting the cycle until he finally bottoms out, and you feel as if you’ve been electrified. You squeeze your eyes shut, but with the way his bulbous tip prods at your cervix, your mind goes blank, and the tears fall regardless. 

“There…” you pant, eyes glassy from the euphoria of feeling so incredibly full. “’s all in.”

“Yes,” he praises, softly. “Look at you, so nice and tight for me.” 

He wipes the salt from your cheeks, distracting you with a delicate kiss. His fangs are more prominent in this form; you can feel them as he grins against your lips, whilst whispering breathy nothings that tell of how good you are for him, how perfect, how he should be so lucky to have you like this, to have you as his. 

When your body eases enough, he pulls away, though the subtle shift of his cock still drags a pitched whine out from your lips. If he’s to be honest, he cannot tear his gaze from where the two of you are joined. It’s mesmerizing, hypnotic, to see how he splits you open, to feel how you mold into the shape of him, to imagine just how much your little cunt had to stretch so that he might rest comfortably inside.

Though, comfortable might be an overstatement due to the way your muscles tense and release so tightly around him, clamoring for more of his attention.  Eyes darkening with lust, Neuvillette smooths a hand over your abdomen, cerulean scales cold upon your skin.

“Can you feel me right…” He draws a clawed finger delicately across the skin of your belly, where his cock rests parallel underneath. “Here…”

He leaves more than just a faint line of red where his talon rakes. Yes, you want to say. You can feel the faint prickle of his claw on your skin, you can feel how the sharpness sends a shiver ringing through your body, and of course you can feel how he’s sheathed his dragon cock right into the very depths of your cunt, deeper than anyone’s ever been, deeper than he’s ever been… But the only sounds that spill through your lips are another stream of broken sobs, fever touched by how close you are to cumming just from being filled.

“Go on, darling. Cum for me.” He can feel you pulsing around him, clenching and unclenching in search of sweet release, yet he makes no additional moves to help you, leaving you to your own devices.

At this point, you can no longer tell if you’re making things better or worse, as every little movement knocks you into reaction—like dominoes toppling over until every piece of you has been unraveled. You writhe atop the soiled sheets for any sort of friction, but it’s too much when his tip knocks against the entrance to your womb. So you shift away, letting the ridges on his shaft graze against your syruped walls, inciting another wave of need. The scales continue to tip between ‘too much’ and ‘more’, until you finally work yourself into a delirious orgasm, on nothing but his cock inside you and your own incessant squirming. 

As you continue to ride out your high, Neuvillete finally begins to move, tearing himself away from your fluttering vice grip with a tremulous moan, because fuck you’re still so tight around him, still so warm and wet even after cumming for what? The fourth time tonight? Pressure lands heavy over your frame as he begins to rock into you, folding you in half as he does. 

He fucks you slow and even, stretching you out even more with every new stroke. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as this new position affords him the privilege to reach impossibly deeper. Despite his shallow thrusts, each drag of his cock still blooms an ache from all the hidden spots that he has no choice but to touch, though it’s quick to pass, as pleasure continues to coil in your belly. 

It’s so much all at once. You can’t take it, it’s too much. But the soul-shattering euphoria of being so utterly full, is unparalleled. You want more, you need more.   

“My pearl,” he whispers, though his voice is gruff, “my heart… I want to hear you.” 

And so you oblige him, wailing something broken and pitched and strangled, at the sudden snap of his hips, at the way he bumps into your cervix and seems to rattle your organs about. 

“F-fuck,” you cry, without thinking. Not that you can anyway, when the push-pull tide of his thrusts raises you to new heights of delirium. “H-ah god, fuck Neu–”

Another sharp, jutting thrust cuts you off as the dragon above you snarls, clearly agitated by your crass choice of words. “There are no gods to help you here.” Not in Fontaine where he rules, and certainly not here in his home.

There’s a feral wildness that shines in his bright vishap eyes, and his possessive streak flares—dragons have no natural inclination to share after all. It’s clear in the way his pace changes: faster, harsher, more ragged—a ferocity befitting of an elemental dragon ruler. But titles aside, he’s still your Neuvillette, and every move he makes is still laced with a tenderness, so as not to break you more than he already has. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he commands, dragging his tongue up the length of your throat.

“Yours. ‘m yours, Neuvillette.”

In and out, in and out. His long strokes guide the ridges of his cock back and forth through your tender muscles, leaving you to mumble mindless nonsense as you convulse and keen beneath him. Whatever pain you had felt earlier has long chipped away into undeniable pleasure as you near the precipice of yet another orgasm. Eyes glazed over in all consuming ecstasy, all you know to do is to chase your lust, and so your hips grind back, rolling together like waves in a storm. 

Amidst the flagrant wet sounds of your rabid fucking, you cum again, lashes fluttering as your eyes roll, muscles tight as they tremble from such rapture—so lovely, so beautiful. Your siren call of pretty cries spill from your lips, intermingled with weak babbles of his name. You’re so breathtaking like this in your post-climax haze: fucked out and cloudy-eyed, panting into the cool air as his slowed thrusts still rack up an aftershock of shudders.

Neuvillette bows his head, once again trailing wet kisses across your collarbones, before pausing to hover his lips right over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his warm breath a familiar spot of comfort in this maddening pleasure. Perhaps it’s some sort of sixth sense unique to only the most attuned of lovers, ones whose souls seem to harmonize in perfect resonance, but there’s hesitance in the way he suckles at the spot, fangs ghosting over your tender skin.

“S’okay… you can do it.” Your soft, dreamy sighs of approval are accompanied by the languid tilt of your neck, jeopardizing more of your delicate skin to the dangers of his teeth. “You can mark me… w’nna be your mate…”

Choking back a moan, Neuvillette pistons thrice more into your cunt—pulling out until just his tip remains, and then plunging back into your gooey insides, sending you into another round of dizzying convulsions. His own orgasm follows, seeing stars as he places an amorous bite to the crook of your neck using only the flat of his teeth. 

With how deep he’s buried, ribbons of his cum shoot right into your womb, spilling out into every cavity, and painting your interior white. Warmth blossoms from the inside out. Your heart is full, mumbling happy nothings of ‘mates’ in between sniffles, while a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock, thick liquid oozing from where he ends and you begin. His own chest rises and falls in jagged patterns, but his only want is to seek your lips, to drink in your mewls, and exchange sweet kisses, so that your soul and his, may meld together as they dance in the shape of your breaths intertwined.

He strokes your hair, planting easy kisses all around as he unplugs himself, letting loose the flood of cum that seeps out of your hole, but you whine at the loss, wanting nothing more than to be ever close to your newly consummated mate. Neuvillette only nuzzles into your neck, deep purrs of content reverberating from his chest as he lazily rubs his scent all over you. Meanwhile, a quick swish of his sapphire tail up the sticky underside of your thigh, teases another pulse from your cunt, and by reflex, you push out another dollop of white. 

A small tap tap to his shoulder distracts him from his scenting, and he looks up with a tilt to his head and a small furrow to his brow, his normally sharp eyes full of earnest concern, relaxing only once he finishes reading through the bleary, dulcet tones of adoration that glow in your half-lidded eyes. You poorly suppress your little giggles—although he often disagrees, your lover really can be quite adorable. 

Fontaine’s Iudex Neuvillette is elegant, poised, and meticulously polished… but here in the quiet night hours, in the privacy of your hearth, your Neuvillette is unruly-haired and damp-skinned from satiating the beastly desires of his still tender heart. You reach out a tired arm, first brushing back the pieces of hair that cling to his skin, then wrapping your palm around to cup his face. 

“Was I a good mate?” Your hand slips down from his cheek to play with the tips of his silvery hair. “W’nna be the best for you.”

“You already are the best for me.” His hand, no longer clawed nor scaled, brings yours back up for a kiss to your knuckles. “The only one for me.” 

He rolls off of you, sweeping you into his embrace, as he carries you off to the bathroom. Your head rests heavily against his chest, but your happy hums and quiet murmurs of ‘good,’ tell him that you have not drifted off into slumber just yet.  

“You truly are a wonder,” he breathes, dipping his head to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it would be my honor to have you as my mate… but not tonight.”

His instincts had urged him to do it, to permanently claim you as his, and mark you as a dragon would, but his heart vehemently disagrees. The most sacred bond known to his kind is an ultimatum in your relationship, and it is one he refuses to be the sole architect of, so perhaps the two of you can revisit this conversation again once you’re more clear-headed; his answer would remain the same anyways.

a/n2: writing this took years off my life, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank u sm for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ᥫ᭡ #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader smut #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin thirsts #neuvillette x you #genshin x you #tw monsterfucking #— 𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼

[ladyfogg]

Perfect Fit

Fic Summary: Since the first time you let him bite you, Astarion knew seducing you would be easy. What he didn’t anticipate were the feelings that came with it.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Drow!Monk Reader

Word Count: 11.7k

Warnings: Biting, Blood Drinking (Vampire and all that), Male Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Oral (Female Receiving), Sex, Grinding, Cuddling

A/N: I’m really glad I took my time with this one because I absolutely love how it came out. Enjoy! I don’t know if I’ll write any other Astarion fics but we’ll see.

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Just a taste, that is all he needs.

Boars and wildlife will not suffice, not if your little troop of weirdos keeps going at the same grueling pace. Since the moment he had been snatched up and that damn tadpole shoved into his eye it has been one battle after another.

The diet Cazador forced him onto had already weakened him. And Astarion knew that if he did not do something soon, if he couldn’t keep up with the others, you will turn your back on him.

After all, why keep him around if he isn’t useful?

No, he needs to stay in your good graces. More than that, he needs you to trust him, to care for him. It’s the only way he can ensure that when his former master comes knocking, because Astarion is not naïve enough to assume he is completely free, you will be there shielding him, to knock back.

Which you are obviously capable of doing. He’s seen you fight enough times to know you have a quick temper and an even quicker right hook.

You are the defacto leader, the one who always seems to do the talking even though you’re not the most charismatic of the bunch. Yet, when you open your mouth, the others listen, take your word as law even when they don’t agree.

Astarion finds himself falling in line along with them. Then again, he has two hundred years of conditioning to contend with. He wonders what excuse the others have.

Regardless, the plan remains the same. Seduce you, get you on his side, save his spectacular, frankly tight, ass. Simple. He’s played this part more times than he can count and can do it in his trance.

Of course, none of that matters if he starves to death. The gnawing hunger deep in his belly is distracting and has been for days. He’s used to ignoring it, even in the thick of combat. But he can’t, not tonight.

Tonight, it’s bad enough to get in the way of hunting. He can’t keep up with a lame doe he stumbles across. It bolts before he is even close enough to lunge. Not good. He returns to his tent frustrated and desperate.

Red eyes scan the still camp, predatory and sharp. He told you all he would keep watch because he needed time and space to think, which is partially true. However, that was when he hoped to catch dinner.

How in the Hells can he bloody think when he’s starving?

There’s a rustling near the fire, immediately drawing his attention. His gaze falls on you while you shift, your back to him as your body rolls towards the warmth of the campfire. A breeze glides through their encampment, bringing your tantalizing scent towards him, beckoning, teasing.

Astarion takes a deep inhale, eyes closed as he unwittingly gives into his instincts. Hunting pushes them away. But with no wildlife to sate him, his feet move on their own, dragging him closer to your prone body. When he opens his eyes, his vision blocks out everything that isn’t you.

The hunger is all that matters and right now, the hunter has finally found his prey.

His steps make no noise as practice and skill take over. He’s close enough to see the subtle rise and fall of your breath, the dim firelight framing you with its eerie glow, leading him like a beacon in the never-ending dark.

Astarion takes a knee, arms out for balance and eyes closed as he moves purely on instinct. He opens his mouth, fangs dripping with saliva at the promise of a meal, a real meal…

A second later he feels you move and his eyes snap open, only to find yours staring up at him. Cold realization slams into him like a heavy maul, making him blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Shit.”

Immediately, he backs away as you quickly rise to your feet, eyes narrowed in distrust. You don’t even have a chance to speak before he launches into an explanation, trying to keep his voice hushed to avoid waking the others.

“No, no, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” he insists. “I wasn’t going to hurt you I…” He pauses, taking a breath to ground himself. The bloodlust isn’t satiated, not by a long shot but it is tempered by a furious-looking monk. “I just needed…well…blood.”

It sounds lame even to his own ears. Not his best work but, then again, he isn’t at his best.

You swear, burying your face in your hands. “Fucking unbelievable!” you exclaim in a harsh whisper. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it! We even found the boar you snacked on. And you were so quick to brush it away.”

“It’s not what you think!”

Astarion’s voice goes up and you motion for him to be quiet. A quick glance confirms the others are still fast asleep.

The next thing he knows, you’re grabbing his sleeve and tugging him away from the fire, away from the others, which is not at all what he's anticipating. He doesn’t even have a chance to register you’re touching until your hand is already gone, leaving a phantom of its warmth.

“I’m not some monster,” he persuades. “I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds, whatever I can get. I’m…I’m just too slow right now. Too weak.” He pauses, the hunger taking hold once more. “If I just had a little blood, I could fight better. Please.”

There’s a sharp pain between his eyes, the familiar trigger of the tadpole lodged in his brain. He recognizes the sensation, knows it’s you reaching out, asking, and after a moment of hesitation, he lets you in.

Unlike your companions, you’ve embraced the new connection, used it to convince others to move out of your way or do as you say. Not within the group of course. He suspects you’re too noble for that.

Astarion hasn’t had much time to practice himself. No time like the present. He needs you to see, needs you to understand that what he says is true.

The trust he is trying to build is at stake, no pun intended. You need to see that this is an anomaly, an unfortunate side effect of the intense fighting you both had to endure the last few days.

So Astarion shows you, lets you see fleeting images of what he’s hunted in the woods. But this is all still new. He does not know how it works, does not anticipate the flood of other memories, personal ones he isn’t ready to share.

A dark street, a willing mark, a soft supple body for Cazador’s dark needs. They flicker one after another, a blur of faceless victims he’s lost count of. Yet, none of them with his fangs at their throat or their blood on his lips. It becomes too much too fast.

He gathers his strength and throws up those mental blocks, the ones he’s had for decades yet seem to be crumbling in an instant. With a mental shove, he pushes you out.

While Astarion's body reels from the onslaught, you remain stoic, arms crossed as you stare at him with that intense gaze of yours. The only indication anything is amiss is a head tilt.

How? How are you already so used to these damn tadpoles? You don’t even blink, and with the shadows of the night wrapped around the both of you, he can’t read your expression even with Darkvision. But he can assume and right now, he’s sure he’s fucked up. All he needed was you to trust him and because of this insistent hunger, he’s failed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

This is not the question he expects and he blinks, taken aback. You don’t sound angry, hells it would be easier if you were. Anger he’s used to, can handle with poise. But Astarion thinks he can work with this, whatever it is.

Because it’s not pity, it’s not empathy, it’s something he does not have a name for.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no, more likely you’ll run a stake through my ribs,” he explains. “No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

Of course you can’t. Anyone who ever put their trust in him came to bloody ends. Yet, he’s seen you drop a gnoll with nothing but your fists and an insane high kick, so he feels you may be sturdier than most.

You study him closely, and Astarion does everything to appear docile and properly chastised, hunching his body to make himself smaller. There’s a beat where neither of you blink or speak. However, he catches the subtle slump of your shoulders and a sigh escapes your lips.

“I believe you,” you say. “And I do trust you.”

Astarion slowly exhales his own sigh, this one of relief. “Thank you,” he says.

Then, because he can’t help himself, because his empty stomach twists, because you’re still close enough for him to inhale your scent, he pushes his luck.

“Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” he asks, a hopeful lilt to his voice as he bats his eyelashes at you. “I only need a taste, I swear.”

He fully expects your refusal and wouldn’t blame you in the slightest. As much as this hunger is driving him to madness, he is fully prepared to slink away with his tail tucked between his legs if it means he lives to seduce you another day.

Yet the next words out of your mouth throw him off his game.

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need.”

There’s no hiding the surprise on his face. He knows you see it yet you don’t gloat or react, only smile.

“Really? I—” He clears his throat and recovers, swagger in place as comfortable as a well-worn mask molded just for him. “Of course, not one drop more. Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

He motions towards your bedroll with a bow. As you brush past and turn towards the fire, your smirk is wider, as if you can tell how much excitement is building within him. Then again, with the tadpole and your uncanny ability to read people, you probably do.

The others are still silent and sleeping as you lay back on your bedroll. Astarion’s chest heaves and he licks his lips as the prospect of blood, humanoid blood, becomes all he can focus on. He’s salivating again, red eyes drawn to the smooth expanse of your neck.

At first, all he can hear is the crackling of the fire. But when he leans in, the steady beating of your heart breaks through the noises of the night. Bloody Hells, he can hear the blood rushing through your veins. It hypnotizes him, draws him forward as you roll your head to the side.

White fangs pierce dark skin, sliding clean through to find a thick, pulsing vein. Underneath the rush, he almost misses the soft gasp push past your lips.

Almost.

But he doesn’t have time to process it because the first drops of blood touch his tongue and nothing else matters. Not mind flayers, not tadpoles, not Cazador, nothing but the sweet, red liquid that is sliding down his throat carrying your scent.

Everything else before pales in comparison.

There’s no fear. When he hunts he can taste the deep fear of his prey in their final moments. But this is different. You are different.

It’s such an onslaught of emotions he can’t process them right away. It’s secondhand, like trying to grab a rapidly fading echo in a dark cave.

Astarion doesn’t anticipate it and can’t recognize half of them at first. Sensation is what he does recognize. Pain is immediate, followed by warmth leading into heat in his cheeks and stomach. So much heat. He’s been cold for two hundred years, he’s forgotten what it’s like to have body heat, to be hot.

His body naturally curls around yours, one hand sliding under your head to cradle it close. The fingers of his other hand dig into the packed soil, gripping for something solid yet finding nothing.

Your body arches into his, breasts pressed to his chest and for the briefest moment, he imagines how better this would be if he could feel your bare skin to his.

Then another splatter of blood hits the back of his throat as your heart rate increases and the thought is lost.

Instinct wins out once more and Astarion groans, sucking at the wound with renewed fervor. This is better than he could have imagined. You’re better. All robust and tantalizingly smooth, finer than the finest wine he’s ever sampled. He licks at your skin, gathering as much of the precious liquid as he can. He knows it’s supposed to be a taste, but he needs more. Wants more…

A hand on his shoulder draws him out of his stupor and a firm shove has him breaking free with an orgasmic gasp. Life now drums through his veins, yours and his comingling into a surge of energy that has his dead heart thrumming harder than he ever remembers.

“Enough,” you say, your voice gruff and small, though still commanding. He thinks for a moment you might have actually cast Command on him, until his addled brain remembers you don’t use magic.

Astarion pulls himself together, comes back into his body in a way that’s far more pleasant than it has been in the past. He’s sure he’s made a mess but when he looks down, all he sees are two small puncture wounds with the barest hint of blood. Small specks of his spit glint in the firelight.

He resists the urge to kiss them away, instead stumbling back onto his haunches to give you space.

You slowly sit up and he catches you wincing. It’s the brief flash of pain that helps him reign himself further in. You said you trusted him, let him drink from you, he will not, could not, betray that trust, the gift you’ve given him.

“Of course,” he says, voice breathless as he tries to remember how to speak. “That was amazing.” He smiles wide, feels a droplet of blood slip away from the corner of his lips as he does. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong, I feel…” The faintest hint of emotions still lingers. “…happy.”

You both sit quietly for a moment, air thick with tension and a hint of copper. Your scent is even stronger now and Astarion thinks he could track you from miles away if need be.

“I look forward to seeing you fight.”

Right, the whole reason you did this. To help him be stronger, useful. It’s those thoughts that ground him once more, snap his head out of the clouds and onto the hard forest floor.

Astarion stands while you remain right where you are, watching every move he makes. He wonders if you are waiting for him to pounce, waiting for the monster he assured you does not exist. When he speaks again, it’s the light, easy tone he’s perfected, like sliding the mask back into place.

“Shouldn’t take long so many people need killing,” he says, flippantly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating but I need something more filling.”

Nothing will escape him now. He swears he can take down a bear should he be lucky enough to find one.

He turns to leave, yet something stops him from taking the next step. When he glances at you over his shoulder, for a moment, the mask slips and he allows you to see the genuine gratitude he feels.

“This is a gift, you know,” he tells you. “I won't forget it.”

Not staying for a response, he turns away and stalks toward the darkness of the waiting forest. When he’s sure you can’t see him, he swipes that drop off his chin with his thumb, sucking it into his mouth to enjoy the final taste of your essence.

He is content for this to be a one-time thing, a special circumstance he is lucky enough to experience. And though he already longs for more, he enjoys the heat while he can, letting it carry him through the night as he hunts his next prey.

So imagine his surprise when you approach his tent only two days later, wounds barely visible under your collar. Astarion is readying his weapons, preparing for yet another trek through the wilds.

You’re in your vestiges, your arms free say for the thin bracers protecting your wrists. Your stance is sure and confident, eyes alight with something he hasn’t seen in them yet.

“We’re ready to head out,” you say. “Got everything?”

“Prepared and ready for the inevitable descent into violence.”

“How are you feeling?”

For anyone else the question wouldn’t be so loaded. He gathers you’re probably wondering if he’s going to try to steal another bite at some point.

“Fit as a fiddle. Your donation was much appreciated and helpful,” he says, sliding his daggers into their scabbards. “The effects are mostly worn off but such is life. I’m not weak if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not. But, if you need to, you can feed on me tonight.”

Astarion can barely contain himself, thrilled at the prospect of another surge of power, and that his seduction skills are working, though not entirely as he expected. Still, it’s an opportunity he will not squander.

“My sweet, there’s nothing I’d like more,” he purrs, stepping in close. He catches the darkening of your cheeks and lets himself smile in triumph. “I’ll come to you tonight, when you’re snuggly wrapped in your bedroll and we can have a little privacy. And this time,” he drops his voice for added effect, “I’ll make sure I’m quiet. We don’t want to disturb your rest.”

It's not lost on him that the night after his first taste you took to sleeping in a tent rather than under the stars. The added privacy had him wondering about its purpose.

Now he knows.

Taking another step closer, he drops his voice even lower, keeping the moment between you two. “Later on, when we are at rest, I will eat you right up,” he promises. “Just enough to give me strength and just enough to leave you wishing for more.”

Your breath catches in your throat and he knows right then that he has you. Even as you smirk and roll your eyes, his pleased smile never falters.

“Great line,” you say, walking backward towards Karlach and Shadowheart, who are waiting for the two of you. “Has that ever worked for you?”

“Numerous times. And trust me, you haven’t heard half my lines.”

“Is that what you do in front of the mirror now that you can’t fawn over yourself?”

“Hurtful!” he gasps in mock outrage. “Also, need I remind you, you came to me just now.”

“And you came to me the other night.”

“Fair point,” he begrudgingly admits, slinging his bow onto his back. “Although, I did ask for just a taste. If you’re wanting another nibble, that says more about you than it does about me. I’m a vampire spawn. What’s your excuse?”

By you’ve turned your back on him and though he can’t see your face, the middle finger you aim his way lets him know he’s won the argument.

The anticipation of his next feeding carries him through the day.

It’s ever-present in the back of his mind, fueling his hunger and drive. He fights harder because he knows that come nightfall, he won’t have to hunt for his meal. You’ll be there in your bedroll, ready and willing.

Astarion can’t suppress the shudder of longing every time he thinks about it.

Waiting never felt so long.

You’re moving closer to the goblin camp with every step, picking off stragglers as you find them. Shadowheart asks the corpses for information and you’re able to narrow down the location of the druid right down to which building he's in.

When you make camp, you’re only half a day’s travel to your destination. Everyone is exhausted and moody, with little talk this time over the campfire. It doesn’t bother Astarion, who felt you all were becoming far too chummy for his liking.

He waits and watches from his tent, taking note as one by one, the others peel off to their respective spaces. You’re one of the last, your eyes straying across the camp in his direction, meeting the gaze that has been transfixed on you the entire time.

As if to tease, your scent finds your way to him on the wind, making his head spin. He gives you a wink and a smirk. You smile back and quirk an eyebrow before disappearing into your tent like the others.

Astarion bides his time, waits until everyone stops rustling and the collective silence of sleep washes over the camp.

Wyll is on watch tonight, though his back is to your tent. Astarion keeps to the shadows and easily dodges him, making no sound as he slips past.

You’re fast asleep, buried in your bedroll with a blanket loosely draped over you.

Astarion feels that familiar tug low in his belly, lets his feet guide him closer. He doesn’t need the fire to see you there, peaceful, almost angelic. You changed into a looser tunic which has slid down to reveal a shoulder.

And the faded markings he left on your throat the other night.

Astarion kneels and then crawls up behind you, slow and careful. He said he wouldn’t disturb your rest and he meant it. No need to wake you when you’ve given your consent.

Besides, as sneaky as he is, Astarion wonders if you’re that light of a sleeper, considering how easily you awoke the last time. He lays behind you, gently peeling the blanket away. Your tunic slips lower when he does and at this angle, he catches just the faintest glimpse of the top of a breast.

It makes him pause, give an appreciative glance, before your neck beckons him.

The hunger urges him forward, begging, pleading with him to drink. You’re so close and warm and vulnerable. He does his best to lean over without touching you, but you automatically tense in your sleep when you feel the coolness of his body draw near.

Leaning down, he lets his lips brush your ear as he whispers, “It’s just me, darling. Go back to sleep.”

You hum and relax once more, dropping your shoulder in the process. The angle is too good and he is too famished to wait any longer.

Astarion bites down, his fangs lining up exactly where they pierced before. His mouth fits against your throat like it was made for him.

A perfect fit.

There’s no need to rush and he is able to savor the experience. This time, a sense of calm washes over him, making his eyes droop closed as the now-familiar yet no less exquisite rush of your blood fills his mouth. Deep down there’s a sense of injustice for being denied this experience for so long.

However, he wonders if it would have been the same without the anticipation and thrill of the chase. Without you in the equation. After all, you’re a powerful person, unyielding in your convictions.

Yet, here you are, offering your blood to him. Giving him power.

He keeps his fangs buried for a moment longer, holds himself there until his mouth is brimming with the taste of you.

Only then does he retract them, sucking softly on the reopened wound to drink his fill. You’re fast asleep, which means that he has to stop himself this time. You’re not aware enough to do it for him.

When he wanted to earn your trust, he did not think you would give it to him so freely. What else will you give him? What else can he get away with? Questions for another night.

Thankfully, he can force himself to stop once that welcoming heat spreads through every part of him.

Every part.

Fucking Hells he is hard as a rock.

It catches Astarion by surprise and he immediately draws away. He finds himself panting, his lips still coated in red as he glances down at himself.

Is it the act of drinking blood or the blood itself? Feeding on animals certainly never drew this reaction.

His head is spinning from bloodlust and arousal, and he feels the need to leave your tent as soon as possible. You signed up to be his meal, not to get him off.

Not yet anyway. Shame, if you were awake he could make his move. He briefly considers rousing you with honeyed words and lustful promises but he decides against it in the end.

Maybe next time.

As he cleans up the mess he’s left on your throat, licking away the remaining drops of blood, he can’t help palming himself at the same time. He’s barely able to contain a hiss at the sensitivity.

Fuck, if this is just from feeding on you, what’s going to happen when he gets to have you another way?

Astarion reluctantly withdraws, readjusting your tunic before draping your blanket back in place. Your breathing never hitches and remains steady, even when he slips out into the night.

With fresh blood pumping through his veins, his body is strong and alive. He feels so fucking alive. He barely takes a few steps before the hardness in his trousers proves too distracting, forcing him to rest against a tree.

If he turns his head, he can still see your tent through the bushes and trees. It surprises him that he wants to go back. Then again, you are the most interesting prospect around and a part of you is within him now.

Soon, a part of him will be in you, he promises himself.

Astarion unties the laces of his trousers and pulls his cock out, finally allowing the hiss he held back earlier. It throbs persistently, begging for him to do something, anything for release. He gives himself an experimental squeeze, wondering if he has the mind for this right now. But it’s too good and he’s too worked up to deny himself.

His eyes never leave your tent as he strokes his cock. Slow at first, but that quickly proves not enough and he speeds up.

Astarion has had too many lovers to count but it has been some time since he’s had to take matters into his own hands. And yes, he plans on seducing you and may even find you attractive, but this is not in the plan.

It certainly didn’t happen the other night.

Moving purely on urges, Astarion lets his head fall back against the tree trunk, and his eyes close, picturing himself back in your tent.  

If only you’d been awake, he could have pressed against you, let you feel the length of him as he drank his fill.

Would you grind back? Would you gasp? He’s more than sure that he can get you to do both. When he finally gets you where he wants you, when he finally has you writhing and moaning his name, he's not going to let you cum until you beg for it, beg for him to fill you as he drinks from that delicious throat.

With a strangled moan, he cums onto the forest floor, his knees buckling under the sudden onslaught of sensation.

Putting his full weight against the tree for support, he takes a moment to catch his breath mind, and senses hyper-aware of every rustle of leaves and gust of wind. With his lust now stated, there is an overwhelming sense of fear and guilt.

What the Hells is with all this wanting and desire? He is not allowed to want. Seducing you isn’t about desire. Neither of those emotions should be there and yet they are.

Let’s just push those way back where they belong, he thinks as he tucks himself back into his trousers.

His head is clearer now, his focus as sharp as it was the previous night. Brushing the incident off, Astarion switches into hunting mode, his grin wide enough to verge on the side of madness as he bolts into the forest, with nothing but the thought of his next kill.

Your offer of blood becomes a regular occurrence.

Not every day but often enough for Astarion to notice a significant change in himself, his power. He is faster and stronger than he has ever been. There is still the situation of becoming immensely horny when he does feed on you, but he looks on the bright side and accepts it as an unexpected bonus.

On days when your party runs into a fight, he finds himself drained but not enough to impede his hunting.

A fact he brags about one night when he stumbles back to camp, brimming with excitement and pride.

“Guess what I just did!” he exclaims, plopping beside you on the ground by the fire that seems to have your attention.

It’s your night to keep watch which means he is out of luck for his midnight snack, as he’s taken to calling you. Much to your chagrin.

You chuckle and motion towards his mouth. “Judging by the blood I’m assuming you caught a nice dinner,” you say.

Astarion impatiently wipes it away. “Not just dinner, a bear! A whole bear!”

“Gods, you drank a whole bear?”

He nods proudly, grin wide and sloppy. “Now, it wasn’t as good a vintage as Drow,” he concedes with a wink your way. “But that’s not the point. The point is, I was able to kill it all by my lonesome and nary a curl out of place.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Kind of,” he slurs.

In truth, he is euphoric, untouchable. Between proper feedings and the tadpole, Astarion feels he is the strongest vampire spawn there may have ever been. Tonight, like the first night he bit you, there is no Cazador, mind flayer, or other threat. There’s only him and the blood of the black bear that he’s taken for himself.

And you, of course.

You smile in amusement, turning your attention to the fire.

Astarion leans back on his elbows, his body wonderfully loose and relaxed for the first time in decades. He takes the time to study your profile, his delirious mind focusing for the moment. He is acutely aware that it is only the two of you, a rarity considering the size of the camp.

Between the adrenaline of the hunt and the opportunity that comes with privacy, Astarion shifts closer, not enough to touch but enough for you to know he’s done so.

“You know, darling,” he drawls. “I don’t think I’ve told you how devastatingly beautiful you look by firelight.”

You don’t respond and at first, he wonders if you heard him. When it becomes apparent you haven’t, he clears his throat and tries again.

“The way the flames reflect in your eyes is hypnotizing,” he continues. “I can get lost in them, have been lost in them ever since we met.”

Still nothing. Astarion feels you’re miles away, which his pride will not stand for, not when he feels as good as he does and is throwing you all the signals.

He sits up and waves a hand in front of your face. “Helllooo? Devilishly handsome roguish vampire here giving you compliments. The least you can do is acknowledge me.”

You blink and tear your eyes away from the flames, giving him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to ignore you. I’m not very good company tonight, I’m afraid.”

Astarion shrugs and sits up, interest piqued. “That’s alright, darling. We don’t need to talk. There are plenty of other ways we can enjoy each other’s company.”

You roll your eyes as you look back at the fire with that amused smile you seem to reserve only for him. “Hey, if I could turn my brain off for the night, I’d take you up on that,” you admit.

Finally feeling like he’s getting somewhere, Astarion leans in closer. “You’re in luck because I happen to be a delectable distraction. All you have to do is say the word.” He pauses before adding. “I’m talking about sex of course. We should have sex.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of what you meant.”

Astarion grins, reaching out to walk his fingers up your forearm, playfully tugging at the sleeve of your tunic. “So what are we waiting for?” he purrs. “A midnight snack is all well and good, but I wouldn’t mind sampling what else you have to offer.”

As full as he is, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in another nibble. There’s something special about your blood, enticing. When he’s this close to you it becomes all he can think about and he has to stop himself from nuzzling your throat. At least until he knows he has you.

“I want to,” you tell him, finally meeting his gaze. “I really really want to.”

“Then what’s the problem? I am ready, willing, and certainly able.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not.”

Astarion frowns, confused. This has always worked before, there’s no reason for it not to work now. He doesn’t get it. You’re clearly attracted to him and he’s doing everything but presenting himself on a silver platter. By now you should be throwing yourself at his feet.

And there’s no way he’s lost his touch because that would be like saying the sky is no longer blue.

You take a deep breath and when you start to speak again, it comes out in a rush, like you’ve been holding the words in for far too long and can’t any longer.

“There is so much at stake and so many people are depending on us, on me. It’s all I think about. I can’t focus on anything else. For days it’s been one crisis after another. On top of that, everyone keeps saying that we need to get rid of the tadpoles and that we should have turned already. We rescued Halsin but he can’t do what we hoped he would and I’m just…”

You let out a noise of frustration and Astarion is back to grinning because this he can work with. This he understands.

“Aren’t monks taught to still their minds?” he teases.

“I didn’t become a monk to still my mind. I became a monk because I like punching things. It’s honestly my favorite thing to do.” You take a deep breath before falling onto your back to stare up at the stars. “But now everyone keeps looking to me for answers and I just don’t have them. Nor do I want to be the one to figure all this shit out.”

Perfect, a new angle.

Astarion leans over you, forcing you to look him in the eye. “It’s just as I feared. You need me more than I thought.” He bends his head, delighted when you instinctively present your neck. He places the gentlest of kisses to bite mark, nuzzling into your soft skin like he’s been wanting to do since he sat down. “If you need your mind on something else, let it be me. Let me touch you, taste you. Let me bring you to such unbearable peaks that you forget everything that isn’t my mouth, fingers, or cock.”

You moan softly, shuddering at the warmth of his breath. “I don’t know if you can.”

Astarion draws back, a wide smile showing off his sharp canines. “Trust me, darling, I can.” He slides a hand up to cradle your head just like he did the first night he bit you. But it’s kisses he lavishes your throat with, with the occasional scrape of his teeth.

A gentle hand on his shoulder has him pulling away.

“You seem pretty confident about that,” you say, eyes searching his.

“Because it’s true.”

He knows what you’re searching for and does everything he can to make sure his gaze speaks for him. Lust and desire, mixed with a touch of hopefulness. Disarming and endearing, exactly who he needs to be for you.

“Here is what we’re going to do,” he continues, putting all his weight on one hand so he can use the other to take yours. “Tomorrow night, once everyone is asleep, I’ll slip into your tent, and I will make it so that pretty little head of yours can focus on something else. Something much more pleasurable.”

He punctuates each word with a kiss, first to your fingers, then your bruised knuckles, and finally to your inner wrist where he can feel your pulse racing. The sound of your rushing blood makes his own body thrum with desire. His hunger returns, but not enough to distract him.

But enough to make him twitch with anticipation.

At this angle, he knows you can feel it when his cock hardens. Your eyes widen and you bite your lip to stifle another moan when he teasingly grinds down against you.

“I…” You try to speak but need to take a second to catch your breath. “I would like that very much.”

“Good.”

Astarion leans down and captures your lips in a harsh kiss. It’s meant to be quick, a tease, a way to continue the seduction and leave you wanting more but it immediately becomes something else. You match his energy perfectly, your tongue slipping past his to explore. He isn’t expecting such a hungry response after the way you seemed so controlled, fully expecting it to take time for him to get you to this level.

Apparently, you’re closer to the edge than he thought. But it’s more than that. Kissing you makes him feel…something. He just doesn’t know what in the Hells that is. It makes it difficult to pull away, to stop, and make you wait.

So he indulges, deepens the kiss by leisurely licking the inside of your mouth once you actually let him. It’s good, really good. Enough to lose himself for the moment, to cup your cheek and hold you close.

His head is spinning and in his excitement, one of his fangs nicks your bottom lip.

A drop of your blood is enough to snap him out of it. Because if he doesn’t, he’s going to ruin everything. He’ll either fuck or drain you and right now he’s not sure which.

Astarion abruptly breaks the kiss, not before his tongue at your lip to steal another drop. “Until tomorrow night,” he promises.

He leaves you there, dazed and staring after him as he casually strolls back to his tent. Leaving you wanting more, just like he planned.

And definitely not because of any other reason.

Needless to say, trancing doesn’t come easy that night. Every time he closes his eyes, all he envisions is you in the firelight, looking up at him like he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Granted, he knows he is, but that’s beside the point.

If he’s honest with himself, there may be a small, tiny part of him that feels bad for deceiving you this way. Granted, he is attracted to you and the idea of having sex sounds incredibly appealing.

So what if there is another motive? You both will come out on top in the end, metaphorically speaking. Although, the mental image of you riding him is quite good. Body rocking, breasts bouncing, wet heat enveloping his lap…

Astarion needs a distraction himself at this rate.

The next day he maintains his distance for both your sakes. For one thing, he knows being apart from your object of desire only makes the chase that more thrilling. And for another, he is dealing with a storm of emotions he is not prepared for nor interested in.

On occasion when he can’t help but slide his gaze your way, you seem thoroughly focused every time. He doesn’t catch you looking longingly his way, not even once, and finds it frankly insulting. How can you be so engrossed in what you’re doing even though you know he will be in your bed later?

Unacceptable.

When you both find yourselves set upon by cultists, Astarion is relieved. He needs a good bloodbath to pull his shit together.

His daggers get quite the workout, slicing enemies left and right.

Lost in the thrill of the kill, he forgets about the weird feelings and the way his seduction of you seems to be more complicated than he thought it would be. He forgets about his hesitations or questions.

Nothing is weird and nothing is wrong.

A familiar scent breaks through the gore that stops him in his tracks. Your scent. Your blood.

You’re bleeding.

Like a hound, his head whips in your direction. He sees you across the battlefield, knocking a man to the ground. But one hand is pressed to your side, bright red visible even at this distance.

Shit, you’re further from him than he realizes and he has to scramble over a few boulders to be able to close the distance. His sharp eyes catch movement in the trees, and before he even has a chance to grab his bow, the hidden archer takes aim.

Everything happens so fast.

The arrow fires, Astarion eyes land on you, knows you don’t see it and as he raises his hand towards you, has your name on his lips—

Your hand snaps up, catching the arrow an inch before it hits your temple. With a glare, you look up at the archer, swing around, and throw the arrow right back at him.

Astarion watches the archer fall from the branches, landing in a heap on the ground.

Dead.

You grin in Astarion’s direction, face smattered with blood and he wants nothing more than to fuck you on top of that corpse. But then you stumble and concern takes over. If you fall in battle then he’s shit out of luck and he can’t let that happen.

“Whoa now, none of that!” he scolds, rushing to your side to catch you. “Where the Hells is that cleric when we need her?”

“Did you see me catch that arrow?” you slur, grinning. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Yes, yes, it was very hot, now hold still, you’re bleeding everywhere.”

“Even better, gives you a free meal.”

It’s Astarion’s turn to roll his eyes as he helps you lean against a tree for support. “I prefer the more intimate approach we’ve established.”

Once he’s sure you’re not going to collapse, he digs through his pack for a healing potion.

“Shame to let all this blood go to waste but to each his own,” you say.

He uncorks the potion with his teeth and holds the bottle up for you to drink. It’s not until it’s empty that he allows himself to calm down. You slowly remove your hand and the two of you watch the wound start to close. Not all the way, you’ll need Shadowheart for that, but enough to stop the bleeding.

Astarion spits the cork aside and throws the empty bottle. “There, almost good as new. Maybe don’t get stabbed again.”

“There go the rest of my plans for the day.”

“Lunatic.”

Something comes over him, making him grab the back of your head and yank you into a kiss, too wrapped up in his bullshit to overthink or consider his actions. With one arm around his waist, you kiss him back and it’s sloppy and messy and everything he needs it to be.

Nothing happened. You didn’t die and you’re still able to be seduced. Good.

When you draw back, gasping for breath, he grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly sucks your fingers into his mouth, one by one, swirling his tongue around the digits to gather every drop of blood he can. You’re right. It seems silly to let it go to waste.

Your pupils dilate, your breath coming through your lips in a rush as you watch, transfixed.

He doesn’t need the tadpole to know what you’re thinking, or imagining. It’s a precursor to what he plans to do to you later. But with your thighs squeezing his head as he brings you over the edge.

Astarion releases your finger with a pop and a smirk. You lean in to steal another kiss when you’re stopped by the heavy thud of Karlach’s footsteps. You just manage to pull back when she bursts through the foliage.

“You guys alright?” she asks, also splattered with blood. “We just got jumped by some assholes.”

Astarion gestures to the bodies littered at your feet. “Welcome to the fucking club.”

“Where’s Shadowheart?” you ask.

“Right here,” Shadowheart speaks up, approaching from a different direction. “One tried to run away but I took care of it. Shit, are you bleeding?”

“Not anymore, thanks to me,” Astarion says.

When you wince and stumble towards her, Shadowheart catches you. Her hand glows with radiant light as she casts a healing spell.

“Easy there, soldier!” Karlach says. “You stay put. We’ll deal with these.” She gestures to the bodies, where Astarion is already digging through the pockets.

He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to let good gold go to waste, and definitely not because you two were interrupted. Not because being close and alone with you makes his head spin. Not because he doesn’t know why he kissed you like that. And certainly not because the brief taste of blood is threatening to send him into a frenzy.

By the time the bodies are searched, Shadowheart is done with her healing and you’re able to stand up straight.

“Let’s get back and tell the others,” you say. “With these guys gone, we should be good to keep our camp for one more night. But tomorrow we have to move on.”

Astarion is starting to feel peckish and welcomes the chance to be alone. “I’ll do a little scouting to check for stragglers,” he offers, tossing you the heavy bag of coin he collected. “You know, make sure there isn’t anything lurking before dark.”

“You sure? You really shouldn’t go alone,” you say.

He’s already headed in the opposite direction and turns to face you as he walks backward. “If they hear me, they deserve to catch me. You don’t need to worry, darling. I won’t be late for our date.”

Your cheeks darken and he watches Karlach break into a wide grin while Shadowheart raises her eyebrows. He’s already gone by the time they bombard you with questions.

That moment you two just shared plays over and over in his head. With the taste of your blood still on his tongue, he gives into baser instincts.

Tonight, he will fuck you, and you’ll be so enthralled by his talents, he’ll have you eating out of his hand in no time.

Astarion’s mission turns up no more cultists. And after a brief tussle with a boar, he’s recharged and ready to seduce the pants off you.

Literally.

Night has already begun to fall when he returns to camp. At first, he doesn’t see you anywhere, but then you emerge from the brush, in a clean tunic and trousers with your freshly washed clothes under your arm.

He sneaks up behind you as you lay them out on a nearby patch of grass to dry.

“If you waited we could have had a little dip together,” he purrs, only half teasing because bathing naked with you sounds enticing right now.

“That wasn’t funny,” you glare over your shoulder, although he doesn’t sense or see any real malice on your face. “They gave me shit the whole way back.”

“I’m fairly certain they knew something has been going on. You haven’t exactly been hiding the mark.”

You tug on your collar in a vain attempt to do just that. “Still.” You turn to face him and cross your arms, a neutral stance that conveniently highlights the muscles in your arms. Not that he notices.

“Darling,” he gasps, “are you ashamed of me?”

“Of course not. I just don’t like people knowing my shit.”

Astarion glances around and can see multiple pairs of eyes on you both. So rather than close the distance, he settles for eye-fucking you instead.

“Tonight, all you need to worry about is relaxing and letting me take care of you. Thoroughly. Properly. Until the only thought in that pretty little head of yours is my name.”

Even from this distance, he hears the rush of your blood and it makes him grin wider. You shake said pretty head at him, turning away under the pretense of fixing your clothes.

“So long as you bathe beforehand. Blood may be your thing, but it’s not mine.”

“Not yet, anyway.”

He’s got you flustered and can’t help laughing as you shoo him away. After a brief stop at his tent for fresh clothes and soap, he finds a secluded spot by the nearby lake and takes time to pamper himself.

This part of the seduction ritual he likes, finds comfort in. Washing away the grime and viscera from his skin and taking the time to wash his hair puts him in the proper mindset. While he can no longer see his reflection, you can and that’s all that matters. He knows his looks are unparalleled.

So he primps and preens, cleans himself thoroughly before stepping out to dry off. The full moon casts the world in an otherworldly glow and he stands for a spell, taking in the night. Less than a week ago he was scrambling for rats in the dark, trying to sate the ever gnawing hunger. Now he can stand in the sun, sample the delicious blood of a thinking creature.

What a difference a few days makes.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep inhale to steady himself, to focus. And by the time he exhales, his eyes are open and he’s ready.

Camp is still very much buzzing with activity when he returns, bare-chested with loose trousers. Your scent wafts his way, making him subconsciously turn in your direction. His eyes meet yours over the fire, and he throws you a wink. You smile and duck your head, something he never found endearing until that moment.

Just like all the other nights, he waits for the activity to die down, waits until almost everyone is asleep, before sneaking into your tent.

Except, this time you’re awake. Your back is to him as you sit, still and silent. At first, he wonders what you’re doing, until he recognizes the steady breathing that comes with your meditations.

Silently, he ties the tent closed before kneeling behind you. He sees your pointed ear twitch, knows you’re aware of his presence.

Astarion lays his hands on your shoulders and leans down to nuzzle your temple. Your body is tense. He can feel the knots even through your tunic. Carefully, he digs his thumbs into them, rubbing in circles which forces a soft moan out of you.

“You are far too tense, darling. I don’t think the meditations are working,” he says with a low chuckle, smirking at the way the skin of your neck raises with goosebumps.

You lean back against his chest, making it harder to keep massaging you. So he slides his hands down your arms to hold you instead.

Astarion isn’t one for hugging or cuddling, but this feels nice, having your weight on him like this. It only lasts a second. You lean forward once more, this time with your face in your hands. He lays a hand on your back, recognizing that you need a minute, and more than happy to give you such.

He feels slightly out of his element. Normally when he arrives for the seduction, it’s hasty and eager, with the mark throwing themselves at him. You aren’t doing that, you haven’t even turned around to face him.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you tell him, your voice muffled. “If you’re looking for something carefree and light, I’m sure you can find someone with less baggage.”

Astarion can’t help bursting into laughter. He pulls your arms down and leans around to look you in the eye. “Have we been traveling with the same companions?” he asks. “If you can find this mythical baggage-less person then I salute you because from where I’m sitting, we’re all a bunch of fucking weirdos.”

That breaks the tension in you. Laughing, you lean into him again and he savors the closeness, recognizing that it stirs that same unknown sensation within him. He kisses your neck not only to move things along but for another reason.

Yours is the first thinking-creature’s neck he’s ever sampled and the novelty is fairly potent. He’s left his mark on you, not once but several times. It’s enough to drive him to distraction. The scent of your skin causes his body to react, his mouth already salivating while his cock twitches with interest.

Astarion finds you relaxing while the time slips away, and it isn’t long before his hands are reaching for the laces of your tunic. He unties them with deliberate slowness, giving you every chance to stop him.

You don’t.

In fact, your hands join his to help, and when they are finally undone, you draw away to lift the tunic over your head.

Now you’re both shirtless and when your warm skin touches his it’s like a pleasant balm to his cold flesh. He continues lavishing your throat while his hands cup your breasts, thrilled at the way your nipples pebble under his thumbs. He kneads and tweaks, pinching until just on the edge of pain before backing off.

“Astarion?” you ask, voice already breathless and husky with desire.

“Mmm, yes?”

“If we do this, I only have one request.”

He’s not surprised at this, even anticipated as such. There’s always a request or demand of him and he will dutifully oblige. Anything to keep this going, to seal the deal.

“And what’s that, darling?”

“Stay with me after? At least, just for the night.”

That…is it?

Astarion draws away, prompting you to turn to face him. Your eyes are hooded, lips wet from being swiped by your tongue. But there is a vulnerability he has never seen before that has him answering immediately.

“I will stay,” he promises, and means it. “For tonight, I am yours and you are mine. Nothing else outside this tent exists. It’s just us.” He gently cradles your face. “Just this.”

You lean in and he captures your lips.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, meant to reassure you that your humble request will be fulfilled. But as it continues, it switches, changes into something else entirely. One of his hands drops to your trousers, yanking at the laces with the same fevered energy that’s taken over your mouths. He is suddenly filled with the urge to touch, to make you shudder and moan not for his sake, but for yours.

Astarion sees in his mind’s eye every choice, every decision you have had to make. Always for others and never for yourself. Hells, do you do anything for your own well-being?

He hasn’t seen it. And if this night with him is it, if being with him is how you want to indulge, he’s going to make damn sure he makes it worth it.

When his hand slips below your waistline, his fingers slide through the mound of curls to the petal-soft flesh waiting for him. Feeling the wetness on his fingertips makes his eyebrow raise as he breaks from your kisses.

“Already, darling? I’m flattered.”

You huff, flustered. “It’s my neck,” you mumble, prompting him to latch his mouth there once more. “It’s really sensitive.”

You gasp when his fingertips stroke through your folds, spreading your arousal with practiced ease.

Astarion has a realization. “All these nights, when you knew I was going to be paying you a visit,” he says. “Did you by any chance feel aroused?”

“Every fucking time.”

He slides a finger into you, relishing the low moan and how eagerly your body pulls him in. That explains the intense hard-ons and need to get off immediately after feeding on you. He was unknowingly drinking your arousal, which he plans to do in a very different context tonight.

You’re warm and wet, and the sound of your rushing blood is making it so difficult not to seek his—your marks. The ones he feeds from every time, the ones that never seem to fully fade even with healing magic.

Sliding his finger out, he presses firm circles around your neglected nub while his free hand reaches for your breasts again. Your chest heaves and your hips begin to rise and fall along with his ministrations. When he pushes two fingers into you, your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Astarion!” you gasp.

“That’s it, darling. Let go of everything else. Just think about me.”

In this intimate moment, he becomes acutely aware of two things: one, his name has never sounded sweeter, and two, this is going to be different for him.

Astarion doesn’t find himself slipping away like he’s done in the past. Prior, his body would go on following the script while his brain retreated elsewhere. It was a part he knew all too well and had perfected over the centuries. A moment of disgust at himself then powering through just to get it done.

Yet, it’s not happening. Tonight, he is very aware of where he is and who he is with. Somehow having you be the one to moan his name is keeping him grounded, in the moment.

And he doesn’t want to lose that.

His fingers speed up, alternating between rubbing your nub and burrowing deep into that addictive warmth he wants around his cock. You’re gasping and moaning, seemingly uncaring if anyone hears.

Let them hear, he thinks. Let them know I’m the one making our fearless leader cum.

Suddenly, this angle isn’t right. It won’t serve his needs.

Because now that he’s aware of them, aware that he needs your body, needs your little gasps and moans, he won’t stop until you’re both in a breathless, mindless heap of body and limbs.

Astarion tries to draw his hand out of your trousers but you scramble to keep it there, until he nips at your ear and says, “Shh, shh, it’s alright. We just need to get a little comfortable.” Only then do you let him pull away.

He maneuvers you onto your back and is able to fully take in the delicious image you make. Eyes glassy with desire, lips parted, breasts moving as you try to catch your breath. Without warning, he grabs your throat, not hard. Just enough to angle your head up so he can steal a few more kisses.

Then his attention falls to your trousers and he has them off your legs a second later. You’re not wearing underwear, never bothered to put them on after your bath. Hooking his hands under your knees, he spreads you wide, takes his first look at all of you, and promptly descends.

Astarion doesn’t try to put on a show or warm you up with a few practiced licks. You are more than ready for him and he finds himself starved in a completely different way.

A welcomed way.

His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks greedily, humming with satisfaction when your thighs clamp around his head. It keeps him exactly where you want him, not that he plans to leave any time soon.

This taste of you is so different from your blood yet equally addicting. Heady and sweet, invading his senses until nothing else exists but you. His tongue snakes long your seam, parts your swollen lips, and seeks the hole he teased earlier.

When he finds it, your hips shoot up and he tongue-fucks you, eyes drifting up to meet yours as he does.

You’re propped on your elbows, watching his every move. The vision you make is breathtaking and as he watches your head fall back and your arms buckle, he smirks because he is the one making you feel this way.

Astarion slides a finger into you, this time deeper than the other angle allowed. Your thighs are already quivering and the moment he crooks his finger in just the right way, your arms finally give out and you lay flat on your back.

Hands tentatively find their way into his curls but instead of pulling like he anticipates, they stroke and burrow, holding on for the sake of staying grounded, not for control.

A second finger joins the first and his mouth returns to your aching nub, sucking as greedily as he wants. You’re shaking and moaning, your hips starting to grind against his face the longer he goes on. With the tadpole, he can sense you’re still holding back, still not entirely lost yet. He tries to get you there, increases the pressure of his mouth, and rubs harder against the special place inside you he’s found.

With every twitch, he feels you let go a little more. And when you’re almost there, he switches tactics. For the second time, he reaches for your mind, tries to show you images. This time of yourself, of what he is seeing right then and there.

A beautiful, wanton, deity of a person whom he worships. At least for right now, in this moment. One whose legs fit perfectly over his shoulders and whose shining eyes have him transfixed.

But then what happens next fundamentally changes Astarion and turns his world upside down.

Because, now he isn’t seeing you. He is watching a pale elf with glowing red eyes whose mouth is devouring your slit. Whose cheeks are ruddy with fresh boar’s blood and whose white curls are wrapped around dark fingers.

Astarion is seeing himself for the first time in two hundred years.

And bloody hell he’s magnificent. Not just because he’s beautiful but because he can feel what you’re feeling when you look at him. He can sense the warmth, affection, lust, and fierce protection you’re experiencing here and now, with him.

He’s already achieved his goal. Now he can move on to more important things.

He draws an orgasm out of you only minutes later, not needing you to beg. Not when you’ve given him yet another precious gift.

What a breathtaking sight the two of you make. You, bowing your back into a beautiful arch, and him, sucking greedily at your clit while his fingers stroke deep inside you.

Astarion comes up for air only when your sweaty legs glide off his shoulders, leaving you spread and satisfied.

“How’s that mind of yours now?” he asks, licking your slick off his lips.

It takes a moment for you to answer. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding,” you gasp, a hand pressed to your forehead as you try to collect yourself.

Astarion smirks and pushes himself up onto his knees, carefully slipping his fingers out of you. He can feel your walls clench, automatically trying to keep him there. He’s tempted but has a better idea.

“I told you, I’m quite good.”

While you lay there, watching, waiting, he makes a show of unlacing his trousers. By now his cock is desperate for attention, straining against the fabric. Each move he makes is purposeful, each look calculated, letting you know exactly what he plans to do next.

He thinks of the previous nights when he crawled into your tent and slid up behind you. And once his trousers are gone and his cock is free, full and leaking at the tip, he nods his head.

“Turn on your side, darling.”

He strokes himself while you do, using your arousal to make the glide of his hand easier, better. He lets every lustful thought invade his senses, lets his eyes shamelessly rake over your body as he realizes this is a fantasy he will get to live out.

Astarion knows this night is about you, should be about you, but he can’t help but feel that it’s now also about him. About having something, even if it’s for a night, that gets to be his.

He spoons up behind you, tucking his cock snug under your backside. His hand comes around and slides between your legs once more, picking up right where he left off. You gasp at the sensitivity, your body tensing for only a second until you manage to relax again.

This time with the added bonus of you rocking against him.

Time loses all meaning. He can not be certain how long you both lay this way, grinding and moving together while his fingers make you cum for a second time. It takes longer but absolutely worth every moment. His mouth is permanently attached to your throat lavishing it in kisses and love bites, leaving even more marks. Not as deep as the mark. He'll only drink from you once he’s good and ready.

And when neither of you can take it anymore, when the friction of your skin isn’t enough and you’re positively soaked, he whispers into your ear.

“Lift your leg.”

You do and he takes hold of himself, coats himself in your slick again, then pushes into you with a smooth, quick, thrust.

A perfect fit.

Being inside you, having his cock enveloped by that fucking heat is better than he would have ever thought. After that, he can’t take his time, won’t until he’s emptied every last drop into you.

Your moans are constant, muffled as you bury your face into your thin pillow, your hand twisting the bedroll, reminding him of how he twisted the soil when he had his first taste of you.

Taste.

Gods does he want to taste you again, drink you as he continues pounding into your eager body. As if struck by the same thought, you reach back to slide your hand into his curls.

“Bite me,” you urge. “I need you too. I can’t…”

He hears the rest of the thought in his head.

I can’t cum again if you don’t.

Astarion bites down on the mark, having half a mind to press down on your swollen nub at the same time. You cry out this time. Loudly. Properly. Not his name yet even more beautiful, a cry of pure ecstasy.

Your blood seeps into his mouth just as a fresh wave of your slick coats his cock, and he is done for.

Thrusting wildly, still rubbing your sore clit, Astarion spills himself into you, lost in a frenzy of blood and lust. He’s aware enough to yank out his fangs but after that, it's a blur as he sucks at your throat while his cock spasms and fills you with his seed.

It's too much and coats his lap and your thighs while trickles of blood dribble down your neck. He’s aware of you pushing his hand away from the overstimulation. So he grabs your hip for leverage during his final, weak thrusts. Spent, you both cry out a final time and then grow still.

Eventually, you roll onto your stomach while Astarion collapses onto your back, crushing you against the bedroll.

You don’t seem to mind in the slightest, letting him lazily lick away any remnants of blood. Only then do you hum with satisfaction stretching underneath him as much as the position will allow.

“Fuck, Astarion.”

“That you did, love. That. You. Did.” Each word is punctuated by a kiss or a nibble.

“You were right,” you purr, sounding infinitely more relaxed than he’s ever heard. “I needed that.”

He places a final kiss to the mark before rolling onto his back. “Mmm, me too.” He tucks his hand under his head, staring up at the canvas of the tent with a lazy, satisfied grin. Like a cat who’s just found a sunbeam.

You roll to face him, draping yourself across his chest in a graceless heap. Your face is glowing with post-coital bliss, eyes still shining as they take him in. You reach up to wipe away a spot of blood from the corner of his lips, which he sucks off your thumb.

Astarion is aware you both should clean up but he can’t bring it in himself to care. Your scent hangs around him, not just your blood but your arousal and release. When mixed with his own, it stirs something primal inside, a sense of claim he’s not sure he has a right to feel.

But he’s far too satisfied to question it.

“That was amazing,” you slur. Already your eyes are drooping and your breathing evens out.

Astarion draws you close, feels around for a blanket he manages to drape over you both. “You’re amazing,” he responds, and is surprised he means it.

Even he is ready to trance, the normal rush of adrenaline after feeding is gone, channeled into the thrusting of his hips during those last precious seconds before utter bliss.

For once, no thoughts or machinations enter his mind. Unless it’s your soft body atop his, he has no interest, lazily stroking your back until you fall asleep.

And as he lets his trance carry him away, he has one final thought, an observation his waking mind will remember vividly the next morning when he finds you in the same position, curled around each other even in sleep.

Having you in his arms seems to be another perfect fit.

---

Taglist: @frankie-mercury @miniminx

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion ancunin x you

[alwaysmicado]

I love your writing, could there possibly be a third instalment of keep you warm please 🥹

cravings

3.4k | Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot

post-outbreak, established relationship, pregnancy, smooching Summary: Your pregnancy hormones have you craving three things: figs, coffee, and Joel. He’s more than happy to accommodate you. A/N: Anon, thank you so much for your sweet message!! I'm so happy you liked keep you warm and never felt so loved. Both fics are very special to me, so it means a lot that you connected with them. Enjoy this one and please let me know what you think! 🤍

“Joel.”

You peer at his peaceful face, but his slumbering form remains undisturbed. He seems to be lost in the realm of dreams, showing no signs of stirring.

Undeterred, you lean in a little closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you repeat his name, the warmth of your breath a gentle caress. Still, the subtle symphony of your voice fails to penetrate the fortress of his sleep, especially on the side of his deaf ear.

Realizing your gentle approach might not suffice, you decide on a more direct method. With a hesitant resolve, you extend your hand and give his shoulder a tender shake, hoping to wake him up. 

“Joel,” you say a bit louder, the gentleness of your initial attempts replaced by a touch of urgency.

As Joel finally begins to wake, his eyes flicker open, and his gaze immediately darts to your face. He turns towards you, and his hand instinctively finds its way to your belly. His touch is both tender and firm, as if grounding himself in the reality of the life blossoming within you.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles, worry evident in his voice. The urgency in his tone reflects the immediate need to ensure your well-being. 

You’re only seven months pregnant; it’s far too early for the baby to arrive. Did he miss any signs that something is wrong with you? You’ve been uncomfortable and you’ve been experiencing horrible back pain for the past few weeks, yes, but besides that, you seemed fine, right?

It’s typical of you to keep quiet and hide your pain from him. What if he wasn’t attentive enough? He shouldn’t have left you alone at home for so long, he should have taken better care of you. This can’t be happening again, please, God–

“Joel,” you interrupt his racing thoughts, sensing the mounting panic radiating off his body. You place a reassuring hand on his warm chest, and the other over his on your bump. “Breathe. It’s okay. The baby’s fine. I’m fine.”

Relief washes over him, but confusion quickly takes over as he notices the glisten of tears on your moonlit cheeks. Concern deepens the furrows on his forehead as he searches your eyes for an explanation.

“What happened, darlin’?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur, trying his best to remain calm.

“I…I love you so much,” you finally blurt out, your voice breaking. Unable to contain the surge of emotions any longer, you let your tears fall freely. The intensity of your love for him feels overwhelming, almost painful, tonight. You know it’s silly, but you can’t help it.

You need him to know.

Joel blinks, his brain needing a few seconds to register your unexpected declaration of love. As he processes the situation and your words, the realization dawns that the unpredictable currents of pregnancy hormones must have taken hold of you. His expression immediately softens, a hint of amusement replacing his initial confusion.

“Well, now ain’t that a sweet thing to wake me up for.”

You sniffle, feeling a bit offended by his nonchalant response.

“Joel, I’m serious. It–it hurts, you know? My heart feels like it’s going to burst with love for you and I feel like I’m gonna die if I can’t get you to understand how much I love you. Please tell me you understand and–and that you know and will never forget? Please?”

Your voice breaks again as your big, watery eyes pierce Joel’s soul. He sits up, his face softening further as he realizes the depth of your feelings.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you into his arms. You rest your head against his chest as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. 

“I understand, sweetheart,” he murmurs against the crown of your head. “I know how much you love me, even though I need to pinch myself sometimes to make sure I’m not dreamin’.” He gently strokes the back of your head. “Why such a wonderful person like you would love a grumpy old man like me is beyond me, but I’ve accepted it a long time ago. I know you do, darlin’. You can be sure of that.”

Your gratitude echoes in a soft “thank you” against his warm chest, the emotional weight on your shoulders lifting slightly as you try to steady your breathing. Sitting up next to him, you turn to meet his dark, alert eyes, your vulnerability laid bare.

“I just…what is wrong with me? I’ve never been this emotional. It’s exhausting and it sucks so bad,” you admit, a hint of frustration coloring your words. You look into his eyes, seeking understanding and reassurance.

“I know I probably sound like a crazy person, but I honestly don’t know what to do with all this love for you. It’s like it’s too much for me. And…I don’t wanna freak you out or be too clingy, you know, I’m really trying to give you space, I am. It’s just too much right now and I feel so lost and scared that you don’t actually, fully understand what you mean to me. And–and it’s breaking my heart.” 

You’re gesticulating wildly, hiccups occasionally disturbing your stream of consciousness. 

“Sweetheart,” Joel chuckles as he takes your hands into his. “It’s alright, I promise. Too much love? I’m pretty sure that’s a problem most folks would like to have.”

You give him a playful glare, though your eyes are still damp. “You’re not taking me seriously.”

He shakes his head, cupping your tear-streaked face in his hands. “I am, darlin’, I am. I know how much you love me. I can feel it every day.” He gently rubs your cheeks with his thumbs. “But maybe, just maybe, the pregnancy hormones are playin’ a little trick on you tonight. They can make everything feel like it’s a hundred times more intense. But you ain’t crazy, and there’s nothin’ wrong with you,” he assures you with a soft smile. 

You huff a laugh, despite your emotional state. “It’s not a trick, Joel. I really, really love you.”

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And I love you too, sweetheart, more than words can say. And about bein’ too clingy? Forget that immediately. You know I like havin’ you close.” He kisses both of your wet cheeks with his warm lips, sending a tingling sensation down your spine. “Ain’t no such thing as too much love, especially when it comes from you.”

His words carry a sincerity that resonates in your bedroom, and the corners of his lips curl into a teasing grin. “But, sweetheart, I gotta admit, I’m flattered. Never thought little ole me would have someone as lovely as you worryin’ so much about his heart.” 

A deep sigh escapes you as his lips find the sensitive skin of your neck, his hands delicately tracing the curve of your swelling belly. His words, a whispered acknowledgment of the warmth you bring to his life, stir a tender emotion within you.

“You’ve got a real knack for makin’ a man feel special, you know that?” 

Your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the sensations of Joel’s touch, and a soft hum escapes your lips, your breath quickening with anticipation. In a barely audible whisper, you express your need for him, the desire between you two growing with each passing moment. The air becomes charged with an electric energy, and as your hand moves down his belly, the mutual longing intensifies to a fever pitch.

Joel, unable to resist the urge to have you, pulls you onto his lap, his arms enveloping you, drawing you close. The hunger that has been simmering throughout the day is unleashed in a passionate kiss that conveys the overwhelming depth of your craving for this man. Clothes are shed in a frenzy, the urgency of the moment fueled by a shared longing that borders on painful.

“Let me show you how much I love you, darlin’,” he whispers against your lips, his hands exploring your body with an intensity that mirrors the fervor of your own desire. “I promise you’ll be able to sleep after.”

– – –

The next morning arrives with the soft glow of dawn, casting gentle shadows across the room. As you slowly awaken, the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee tickles your senses. Joel, ever considerate of your morning routine, has prepared enough of it for you to savor as soon as you rise.

With sleepy eyes, you make your way to the kitchen, where the rich scent of the precious beverage beckons. Joel’s thoughtful gesture warms your heart, and you can’t help but smile at the simple yet meaningful act of love.

“Have I ever told you that your dad is the best?” you ask your baby, rubbing soft circles on your belly. “He would always let me have some of his coffee when we were on the road because he knew how much I liked it. Even before we fell in love. And now that you’re making me have all of these wonderful cravings, he’s making sure I get my cup every single day. Isn’t that nice?”

As you take that first sip, the warmth of the coffee spreads through you, dispelling the remnants of sleep. The familiar flavor grounds you, letting you forget your aching body and anxious mind for a minute.

“What are you in the mood for, little one? Apart from kicking me and pressing on my bladder, of course.” You smile to yourself and watch the snowflakes dancing outside the window. “I think a stroll to the greenhouse sounds nice, hm? Maybe they have new vegetables or fruits we can try. I’m still dreaming about that fig your dad brought us a few months ago, you know? You were still tiny back then, but I think you must’ve liked it.” 

You’ve repeatedly woken up from vivid dreams of eating the luscious fruit, felt the juice running down your chin, only to—very disappointedly—realize that you’d been sucking on your pillow instead.

You sigh and drink the rest of your coffee in silence before getting ready, putting on your oversized winter coat, your wooly hat, and your boots. All gifts from Maria. Maybe you could visit her today, too. You’ve been trying to make an effort to get to know her and Tommy better, after all. For Joel, mostly, but you must admit that they’ve grown on you as people — as family.

The greenhouse stands as a haven of life amid the chilly winter air. As you step inside, a wave of warmth embraces you, accompanied by the vibrant hues of thriving plants. The scent of earth and greenery fills the air, and you can’t help but marvel at the array of vegetables and fruits flourishing under the community’s care.

Maria, noticing your presence, looks up from her gardening tasks with a warm smile. “Well, look who’s here! It’s been a while. How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she greets you, wiping her hands on a cloth.

You return Maria’s smile, grateful for her welcoming demeanor. “I’m doing okay, thank you for asking,” you say as you take off your thick coat. “The baby’s been quite active lately. She even kicked so hard a few nights ago that she woke Joel up. He was so freaked out,” you chuckle, remembering Joel’s shocked face. “We honestly can’t wait to meet her.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Maria says, guiding you through the rows of flourishing plants. “Being surrounded by all this life does wonders for the soul, doesn’t it?”

You nod, taking in the sight of tomatoes, cucumbers, and various herbs thriving under the controlled environment. “It’s amazing what you’ve created here, Maria. I would love to help out as soon as I can do physical labor again. I’ve always loved looking after living things, especially animals or plants. I’m still getting used to the idea of a little human.” 

Maria chuckles, her eyes filled with warmth. “It’s a big change, but it’s a beautiful one. It’s like…finding a piece of yourself you didn’t know was missing. And then suddenly, you’re whole, and it all makes sense. You realize that all you’ve done has led you to this perfect little being, and you’ll feel love you didn’t even know you were capable of feeling. It’s, uh, it’s amazing.”

She gives you a sympathetic smile as she notices your tears. “Sorry,” you mumble, wiping them away with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’ve been so emotional lately. It’s so embarrassing.”

“No need to apologize, sweetheart. Now, what brings you here today? Just checking out our little green corner?”

“Well, I’ve actually developed a little bit of a craving for figs, and I thought I’d see for myself if you have some here.”

Maria’s expression turns apologetic. “Ah, about that…we had some figs earlier in the season, but they’ve been picked already. I’m afraid there aren’t any left.”

You furrow your brow, unable to hide your disappointment. “Oh, that’s a shame. I was really hoping to get some. Maybe next season, then.”

Maria pats your shoulder sympathetically, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “I’m sorry, dear. I remember the irresistible cravings I had with my son. I wanted cheeseburgers and chocolate, nothing else. It got so bad at some point that I’d keep chocolate bars hidden in my desk at work.”

She laughs and you smile at her, thankful that she’s sharing such a personal part of her past with you. “But hey, how about I send Tommy out to check the storage? We might have some preserved ones left. Not as good as fresh, but it’s something.”

You appreciate her thoughtfulness, “That would be wonderful, Maria. Thank you. And, well, even without figs, being here and seeing all of this…it’s really comforting.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Maria smiles at you. “This greenhouse is a sanctuary for all of us. And you, my dear—my dears, are always welcome here.”

– – –

The soft hum of your voice fills the cozy kitchen as you chop vegetables with honed precision. The scent of fresh produce lingers in the air, intermingling with the delicious aroma of bread and the subtle hint of bacon from the fridge. Maria’s precious gifts have transformed your modest kitchen into a haven of warmth and abundance.

As you lose yourself in the meditative act of cooking, the front door creaks open, and the familiar, comforting presence of Joel announces his return from patrol. A smile tugs at your lips, anticipation and joy bubbling within you. Before you can turn around, strong arms wrap around you from behind, and Joel’s beard tickles your neck as he presses a gentle kiss on your skin.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Miss me?”

“Always,” you reply, setting down the knife to lean back into his embrace. The scent of leather, gunpowder, and…Joel envelops you, a fragrance that feels like home. His deep chuckle reverberates through his chest, and you revel in the simple pleasure of being close to him.

“Is that so?” he murmurs against your neck between kisses, his hands caressing your belly.

“Mmm, always.”

“I should probably shower first,” he whispers in your ear, but you turn around in his arms and protest with a playful pout.

“No, I love how you smell after patrol,” you confess, earning another chuckle from him. “It reminds me of how you smelled when we met, you know. It, uh, it makes me feel at home.” 

Joel tightens his grip around you, his laughter turning into a soft hum of contentment. He leans in for a tender kiss, squeezing your sides affectionately before flattening his hands over your spine. You inhale deeply, savoring his comforting scent, and relish the warmth of his touch.

When you open your eyes again, you find Joel looking at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised. With a sigh and a playful roll of your eyes, you relent, begrudgingly agreeing that he can go take a quick shower. He smiles at your response, promises to be back shortly, kisses you on the cheek, and heads to the bathroom.

In his absence, you continue preparing dinner, the rhythmic sounds of chopping and sizzling creating a soothing backdrop.

“You’re gonna love this stew,” you whisper to your baby, a gentle smile playing on your lips. “Your dad taught me how to make it. He would always cook it for your sister before the outbreak, you know. It’s a family recipe.”

You sigh, your hand gently rubbing your belly as you imagine a younger Joel standing at the stove, giving little Sarah the spoon to taste the stew.

How you wish the world hadn’t been so cruel to them. 

Joel returns in fresh clothes, his damp hair combed back, the scent of soap lingering in the air. For a brief moment, he stands there, simply looking at you, his expression one of admiration and love for you and the life you two created. You glance over your shoulder, catching his eye.

“Hey there, handsome,” you say, and he steps closer, his arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. His fingers trace delicate patterns on your back, creating a comforting rhythm that matches the steady beat of your heart.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he says, his voice a low murmur filled with warmth. “I’ve seen a lot in my life, but nothin’ comes close to your beauty.” He leans in and presses a lingering kiss on your cheek.

“And I’m not just sayin’ that because you’re carryin’ my baby…even though I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t very much enjoyin’ this,” he murmurs into your ear, his warm hands wandering up your belly. “And these,” he goes on between nibbles on your earlobe as his hands find your breasts, “these are just an added bonus to the beauty you already possess.”

You moan softly and pull him into an urgent kiss as you can’t resist your craving for Joel any longer.

“We got twenty minutes,” you whisper against his lips as your fingers fumble with the button of his jeans. 

“I can work with that,” he grins.

– – –  

After a filling dinner, exhaustion slowly begins to settle in, and you find solace on the couch. Joel, ever attentive, sits beside you, offering a gentle foot massage to ease the day’s strain. Wrapped in the cozy blanket he knit for you, the tender gesture elicits a contented sigh from you. 

He looks into your bleary eyes, searching for something more, something unspoken. “You sure there’s nothin’ else I can do for you, darlin’?” he asks, his voice soft but probing. 

You give him a tired smile. “I’ve got everything I need right here, Joel. Thank you.”

“Hmm, that’s a shame,” he murmurs, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I got all these figs from Tommy, but if you don’t want them, I’ll give them ba–”

“Wait, you got figs?” Your eyes light up with pure excitement as you swiftly sit up on your elbows, genuine joy bubbling in your voice.

“Yeah,” Joel chuckles, giving your feet a gentle squeeze before getting up. “I’ll be back in a minute, sweetheart.” 

He returns with a plate filled with halved figs, and your heart skips a beat at the sight.

“This,” he says, offering you one of the fruits, “is for you, my love.” Gently, he brings it to your lips, and the taste is nothing short of pure bliss. You can’t help but beam at him, overflowing with love and gratitude.

“These are amazing,” you say between bites, savoring each moment. “They’re even better than in my dreams.”

You urge Joel to join in, sharing the figs with him like you’ve shared everything in your lives since he found you all this time ago. As you enjoy the sweet fruit together, your baby begins to kick, and you burst into laughter.

“Looks like you’ve made our little one very happy,” you say, placing Joel’s hand on your belly so he can feel. Joel grins, his eyes sparkling with affection.

“Well, little one, I’m glad I could make you and your mommy happy. It’s what you do for the people you love, you know?” He leans down, his lips brushing against your belly. “You hear that, kiddo? I love you, and I love your mommy. And that’s why I’ll always be here for you two, doin’ my best to make you happy.”

– – –

Thank you for reading!! 🤍 -> keep you warm -> never felt so loved -> masterlist

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x pregnant!reader #pregnancy #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller #fluff #joel miller fanfic #tlou fic #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller tlou #joel miller pregnancy #joel the last of us

[dnfao3tags]

Finding Deleted Fics: A Multi-Method Guide

i feel like we are the fandom who needs this post the most any fandom has needed it ever.

all of these methods require you to know the title, author and/or link of the fic.

[disclaimer: the fic i am using as an example is not deleted, i just can't think of any other fics to use as an example right now.]

Method #1: Wayback Machine

this is my go to method that i always try first.

steps:

every fic on ao3 has a url of archiveofourown.org/[specific-numbers]. you're gonna need that url, doesn't matter if it doesn't work anymore.

eg.

2. now you're gonna go to archive.org and enter your url in the search bar.

3. something like this will come up. it probably won't be saved as many times though, just once or twice.

just click any of the links now, either the dates marked blue on the calendar or the earliest/latest date. that's it.

drawbacks:

often, a problem arises when searching for fics rated mature or explicit.

the site will have archived this page but not the actual fic. though, maybe lady luck is on your side and clicking proceed will lead you to a saved version of the actual fic. but usually not. and not all fics are saved here. in those cases, i have some more methods.

Method #2: Search Engine Cache

search engines like google and yandex often save a cached version of sites, though yandex is much more reliable than google. i'll give you a tutorial for both.

steps (yandex):

the link isn't completely necessary, just the title and author of the fic will suffice.

go to yandex.com and search for your fic by either entering the url or entering the title and author as such.

3. this will probably immediately come up.

just enter the captcha and it should let you in on the first go but there's a glitch i've encountered where you could be entering the captcha completely correct but for some reason the site still won't let you in. for that, you just have to keep trying again and again until eventually the site lets you in. might take more than 10 tries.

4. once you're in, search results will pop up. directly clicking them will only lead you to the not found page. what you're gonna do is hover over the box of the search result and you'll see 3 dots pop up on the right.

click those and a dropdown menu will appear. click the first option 'saved copy'.

and thats it! this is a much more efficient method especially for explicit or mature fics.

drawbacks:

for some reason, when i open yandex in google chrome, i can't see the 3 dots. i can in firefox though. don't really know what thats all about.

i'll show you how to do it with google too just in case yandex doesn't work.

steps (google):

in the url bar, type cache:[link of fic]. that's pretty much it. google doesn't have a lot of fics saved though so you'll probably get a 404 page.

Method #3: Reddit

there's a subreddit called r/DeletedFanfiction that can probably help you out. either search for the fic as it may have already been posted or req it and someone will probably get you a google drive link soon enough. u/throwthisaway11112 is my lord and savior.

afaik it's still up and running fine despite the reddit protest thing (which i recommend taking a minute to look into).

Method #4: Archive.org Database

okay, now you're gonna need a lot of memory on computer for this one. i'm not gonna even bother and try to explain it, i'll just link you to the original post. thank you once again to the anon who sent me this method!

Method #5: Fandom

if absolutely none of those methods work, you can still just send me an ask and maybe my followers or i will have a saved copy. same for any other fandom, i recommend asking around in popular fandom spaces, someone is bound to have it.

#deleted fics #kay talks #save #ao3 #internet archive #excuse my poor graphic designing #i wanted to add my photo thing #but this isnt a #fic rec #so i just slapped ao3 hacks on #decent imo #hope this helps someone out #ao3 hacks #how to ao3

[d3arapril]

Idk if you do requests or if they’re even open but I just read your “cover her mouth….” fic. Absolutely toe curling content🥴 Can we get something like that but Ellie is fingering reader with her hand over their mouth🙈 feel free to ignore tho if not 🫶🏽

glad u enjoyed! hope ur toes aren't cramping <3...i hope this suffices 😛 combined this with this request as I thought they fit well together... not my best BUT let me know what u think!

pairing: jackson!ellie williams x f!reader warnings/tags: kinda dom!ellie, reader is drunk ellie is tipsy (just setting the mood), ellie is iced out mid apocalypse, established relationship, public sex ig, fingering NSFW 18+ mdni

"wait, let me take these off"

ellie's voice is low as she speaks, going to pull off her rings and stuff them in the back pocket of her jeans until your hands are squeezing hers, stopping her in her tracks.

"no, no, please keep them on, fuck-" you're almost manic, eyes blown wide and lips pouting as the alcohol goes straight to your head and all you can think of is ellie, ellie, ellie.

having sex in a tiny, dusty cubicle in ladies toilets of the tipsy bison wasn't something you'd anticipated would happen this evening, a quick trip to the bar for one drink after a long day soon turned into seven drinks and before you knew it you were excusing yourself to the ladies room with ellie hot on your tail.

she mumbles something under her breath that you can't quite hear as she gives up with your zip and all but shoves a hand past the waistband of your jeans and underwear. she's sucking a breath in through her teeth when she feels how wet you are.

"this is fucking dirty, you know that?" she's smirking now, voice low as two slender fingers rub your clit in slow, slow circles until you're whimpering like a wounded dog.

you don't respond - you don't even think you can, just stare at her as she her hand travels further in your underwear and you jump at the contrast of her cold rings against the warmth of your pussy as she slides two fingers in and goes deep. she stills, her free hand coming to grab your face and squish your cheeks together so she can make sure you're paying full attention.

"you've got to be quiet, yeah?" she raises an eyebrow as you nod, brows furrowing and legs almost giving way when she finally begins curling her fingers upwards. the wet sounds coming from your pussy are anything but quiet as she speeds up, free hand now cupping the back of your head and watching you as you bite your lip to try stay quiet. she adds a third finger and all of a sudden being quiet is no longer an option when she's doing such a good job.

ellie scoffs, hand moving from supporting your neck to cover your mouth. she leans in, lips on your ear as her fingers don't let up.

"thought i asked you to be quiet?"

you're panting against her hand and the cold touch of her rings against your face is the only thing keeping you grounded or else you'd likely float off into space and never come back.

she's fucking her fingers into you harder now, pussy squelching with each in and out motion and you're certain that you've soaked through your jeans and likely left a puddle on the floor. your head hits the cubicle wall as ellie puts more force behind the hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, you're gripping into her forearm for dear life until-

footsteps.

you both freeze, ellie's fingers stilling inside of you as the door to the ladies room swings open and someone walks in, heading for the cubicle farthest from yours but before you can even register what's happening ellie is, unfortunately, one step ahead as she's slowly curling her fingers again, somehow digging even deeper than before and hitting that spot that makes your eyes cross and your tummy whirl.

she's relentless, watching you with an eyebrow raised as if to say i dare you. her thumb peeks out from being tucked into her palm to rub against your clit and you're done for, legs trembling and eyes watering as you try to shake your head to warn her you're about to fucking gush all over her hand and in your pants.

ellie doesn't care though, if anything she wants to get caught. she leans forward, trailing wet kisses up your neck and when she reaches your ear lobe she bites,

"fuck it, wanna make you cry babe... don't care who hears."

and cry you did.

#hmm idk #I was feeling a type of way so wanted to write #lol #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us smut #my writing #tlou smut

[sc0tters]

Best Yet | Luke Hughes

summary: when luke gets the wrong idea of your friendship with ethan you can't help but let your feelings for luke slip.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, underage drinking.

word count: 2.53k

authors note: just like that we are back with the regular fics! this one has been staring at me from my inbox for a while now so it felt right to get it done. I know a lot of you guys wanted it to be done in one part but it didn't feel like the vibes meshed well so due to that keep your eyes peeled for part two soon!

part two

Being Luke’s best friend was the role you had your entire life.

Your moms went to college together so when they learnt they were pregnant at the same time it was of course a matter of destiny. When you were five you moved to Toronto and ended up having Luke a treehouse away from you. Quickly the two of you got known as each others other half as you were never seen too far away from Luke and he the same with you.

Life came at you both quickly as you ended up forever in Luke’s corner and his number one fan who was now watching him almost live out his dreams. Both Quinn and Jack had paved the way for him to become the third Hughes brother in the NHL and Luke wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass him by.

Draft day was finally upon you both and it was suffice to say that Luke was a nervous wreck. You had been in Toronto still after he moved to Michigan.

It was tough on you both having to watch him leave you “I can come visit?” Luke’s proposal was honestly there to make him feel better too as tears formed in his eyes “you better.” You nodded pulling him into a hug as tears streamed down your face. Ellen and your mom couldn’t help but feel bad about separating you two as it now meant you were no longer y/n and Luke who do everything together. You were now going to have to be y/n and Luke who only see each other twice a year “I’ll text you when I land.” Luke offered making you nod “no you better call me!” To the untrained eye they would think you two had never left each others sides. But you had, and the two months he spent in Michigan over the summer two years ago were total hell for the both of you.

Jack and Quinn couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of their younger brother “dude you’ll see her in December!” Plans had already been made for you to spend Christmas with the Hughes family but not even that felt like enough “now move over and let us hug her.” Jack nodded in agreement as he ruffled his hand through your hair making you groan.

But life had found itself getting in the way of your friendship when you were in Greece the same summer of the draft. Luke was crushed when he realised that you weren’t meant to be back until the week after the draft “Luke honey could you get the door please?” Ellen called out as she heard the knock. With the pandemic it meant the draft was happening from peoples homes “why should I have to?” Luke groaned getting up as he saw that Quinn and Jack were both closer to the door.

Yet when Ellen sent her son an unimpressed look Luke knew that he was best to go and see what was up “yes I’m coming!” Luke complained rolling his eyes until he froze upon opening the door.

There you were with a golden tan that he was certain you got whilst in Europe “surprise?” You smiled bringing your hands up as you shrugged “what are you doing here?” Luke asked as he rubbed his eyes trying to see if he was dreaming or not as he looked at you “you really thought I’d let you get drafted without me here?” You laughed as you shook your head.

What you two didn’t notice was that Jack and Quinn were watching “just hug her you idiot!” Jack groaned as he rolled his eyes waiting to see you hug his brother. Luke didn’t wait for another second as he pulled you into a hug where he continued kissing your head like if he didn’t you would disappear.

The point was that through everything, even the draft, you were there. Even when you were both applying to university you were together.

It was a warm morning when you and Luke hopped onto a FaceTime call “you got your college?” You asked tucking your hair behind your ears as you smiled looking at him. You were in one of his old sweaters as you bounced your legs waiting for him to answer “yep.” He nodded shutting his door as you two agreed to only tell each other about your university applications until you accepted one.

Your moms agreed that it might sway your decisions about where you were going to go if you each knew what the other was doing “promise you wont get sad if I’m not at your college?” You teased making him scoff “I made peace with you not coming to Michigan months ago.” Luke rolled his eyes as your face dropped.

When you didn’t respond it made him raise his eyebrows “you didn’t apply to Michigan did you?” He blinked as you nodded “Umich.” You really didn’t remember the last time that Luke cheered the way that he did hearing you say that “me too!” It was one of those moments that you two seriously wished you were together so you could celebrate this.

Everyone laughed upon hearing the news that you and Luke were finally going to be back together. You were happy to have him back in your life sure. It was great having him back to only being a couple of minutes away from you. But what you never could have taken into account was that you would develop feelings for him.

Sure everyone predicted that it would eventually happen. Even Jack and Quinn were smart enough to know that this was on the cards for you and their brother. But not even having it in big bright letters would have made you believe it. Lo and behold though you were in the midst of watching your love grow strained as Luke found himself trying to get with other girls.

Every party came with Luke flirting with a new girl as he fully lived out his time as a college boy. It was clear he never wanted to settle down. With each new girl who took his attention it only seemed to land up with you hurt. And to top it all off Luke couldn’t even bother to pick up on it “you deserve better peach.” Ethan sighed as he pushed off of the wall to see you quietly nursing a beer.

It made you stare at the ground as you shook your head “doesn’t matter when it’s not what I want.” You had turned down every guy who looked at you since April of your freshman year. You thought that if you showed Luke that you wanted him then maybe, just maybe he would want you too “maybe you’re looking in the wrong place.” Ethan shrugged wanting you to see that you were wanted by someone who was right in front of you.

But as Luke’s laughter echoed in your ears you couldn’t help but shake your head “this is stupid.” You chewed at the inside of your cheek “I’m gonna go.” Ethan watched as you went to leave “let’s to do something tomorrow.” His offer made a smile form of your face.

You nodded as he squeezed your shoulder “I’ll text you the details then.” Ethan announced as if he didn’t already have something planned for his time with you.

The boys were leaving for Tampa the next day so of course the moment the final skate ended Luke was back in your dorm as he sat on your bed helping you get ready for this date. All of the dresses in your closet weren’t worthy as Luke stayed stolen for way too long before muttering something along the lines of “it’s okay.” Before he would point out something he didn’t like about it “since when do you dislike my entire closet?” You scoffed as Luke bought you two of the dresses that he had turned down.

Luke felt bile rise into his throat as he shook his head remembering how the last two hugged your body in all of the right places. It looked a little too good on you for Luke to even consider letting you wear it. If it was up to Luke he would have burnt the red satin fabric so nothing could see you in it again “why do you even care about looking good for Ethan?” Last night when he got back to the house Luke was less than impressed to hear about how Ethan was taking his best friend out.

The one and only rule Luke made the team agree to was that you were meant to be off limits. It had always been the rule amongst his teammates as Luke knew what some guys were like and you deserved better than that “I want to look good for myself.” You corrected him as you had been raised on the idea that dressing up for yourself meant more than dressing up for a guy who didn’t want you.

You hated how quiet Luke was as he sat cross legged on your bed with your duck plushy on his lap. Quacky was something he won for you when you guys were seven at the town fair. Quinn joked that it was your guys’ first chance at being parents to your child. At the time it was something that you brushed off as the sheer thought of becoming a mom especially to Luke’s kids. It actually made you laugh when you looked back on it, going from thinking that the boy had cooties to now having your world revolve around him had you feeling sick.

As you stared at Quacky, Luke couldn’t help but let his mind come out in the form of word vomit “if I didn’t know any better I’d say you like Ethan.” Luke teased watching the color drain from your face. It was the way that the smug look sat perched proudly on his face yet in actuality he was so far away from the truth that you almost wanted to laugh “not him.” You shook your head raking your fingers through your hair.

That answer made Luke feel sick as he raised his eyebrows trying to mask his surprise “is it Luca?” It was clear that the Fantilli boy had always had a thing for you from the moment he met you. The way he left himself tongue tied after most attempts to talk to you had everyone laughing in amusement as they teased him, well everyone but you did and Luke thought he finally knew the reason behind it.

You couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of your nose “Rutger is a guy that could be your type too.” Luke thought aloud as he nodded to himself remembering the times you went for tall blonde guys “no god dammit!” You snapped finally hitting your palm flat against your table as you rolled your eyes. You had to chew at the inside of your cheek in an effort to stop the tears from rolling in.

Part of you refused to let Luke see you like that and the other part of you knew you wouldn’t have enough time to fix your makeup. Once you let your floodgates open you knew they weren’t going to shut.

An irritated laugh left your lips as Luke clearly scanned your face as he grew concerned by your outbreak "you're the one I like!" You blurted out for the first time in your life leaving Luke absolutely speechless. It was crazy how five words could do that to someone you have known your entire life, the one person who is meant to know you better than you know yourself is left with their lips sealed shut and their eyes wide. As if that wasn't meant to bring you comfort already you instead opted to dig the hole you were forming around yourself deeper "which I don't know why I am telling you because it's not like you have even noticed it as you've got your head shoved so far up these girls asses that I'm pretty sure you could see the light of day if you looked hard enough." The efforts you made to not cry were officially thrown out of the window as you raised the back of your hand to wipe your cheek.

Still Luke didn't know what to say, honestly a little surprised that you felt so strongly about the girls he saw "which kills me because you really are a great guy but you aren't letting anyone, even yourself see it anymore!" You were going through an emotional roller coaster similar to grief as you now found yourself getting angry "Ethan saw that I was upset at the party and he said we should go out." Your words finally made sense to him as Luke finally found comfort in the fact that you were going out with one of his best friends in just under thirty minutes.

Your fists clenched as the boy remained silent now staring at the floor as he processed your confession making the room feel heavy "would you just say something please?" You begged as you went to touch his shoulder but the boy was quicker as he pulled away "I-I-I need to think." Luke shook his head as he got up, his ears were ringing and his skull felt like it was closing in on his brain. He was waiting for you to say that this was some kind of sick prank, some kind of joke. Like the YouTube videos where someone jumps out of the bushes with a camera, they reveal that it was all just some big setup.

But as tears streamed down your face and your lip began to quiver Luke felt the pit form in his stomach as reality sunk in. You were in love with him "I'm sorry." Luke didn't know what he was meant to say as he pushed past you when he went for the door of your dorm. He didn't dare look back as he could feel the sound of your sobs attack his heartstrings. Through your blurred vision, you reached for your phone when you collapsed onto the floor needing to call someone, literally anyone to talk to you. But in that moment you knew there was only one person that you could have spoken to "Ethan?" It wasn't clear why you were so hurt by this. You had prepared yourself for rejection as you knew you weren't Luke's type.

Yet even as you had done that, it still wasn't enough. That day Luke hadn't rejected you, but he also didn't tell you he felt the same way. It left you feeling like you were in this awful state of limbo going back and forth between the two options. But not even four days on, Luke no longer needed to tell you how he felt.

The radio silence and the message that you had to get from one of his brothers sealed his feelings towards you practically on the dotted line.

quinny 🧸: what do you think about Luke going to Jersey?

#luke hughes imagines #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #oneshots #hockey imagine #imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #umich fic #amber writes fics

[sarahscribbles]

thirsty thursday idea! since you've done a marking kink drabble, maybe a bruising kink drabble? I've never seen a fic about it. I'm thinking that the reader is really turned on by Loki bruising her with his grip/ roughness. him grabbing her hips while she's riding him so hard it bruises. bruises the next day on her arms/wrists from where he held her. bruises on her thighs from loki holding her down while he eats her out. okay I'm done now, hopefully this inspires you😂

Oh, Lord, I hope this suffices as a bruising kink! I did my best!

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖𝟓𝟎

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The very first time Loki had left a mark on your skin, you had thought the guilt would consume him.

Tiny splotches of purple and red had quickly blossomed beneath your skin - the aftermath of eager fingers following a week apart - but to Loki, those tiny marks indented in your skin were akin to a bullet straight through your heart. 

“I hurt you,” he had said, ghosting the tips of his fingers guiltily along your thigh. “My darling, I can’t apologise enough.” 

At first, you had thought it was an act, but the heaviness that settled across his face and the pain shining in his eyes brought the realisation that he meant every word. He truly believed that ten little bruises no bigger than a fingertip had left you in agony. 

“Loki,” you had called to him softly, watching his eyes quickly rise to meet yours. Those pretty green irises held so much remorse that you wanted to wrap him in your arms and never let go. “You didn’t hurt me, love. Not in a way I didn’t enjoy, anway,” you added, reaching a hand down to cover his. 

Two perfectly groomed eyebrows had furrowed in clear confusion. “How do you mean?”

Beneath your hand, his thumb still traced slowly over the bruise it had left there, and, for some strange reason, it made heat creep slowly to your cheeks. You had talked about so many of your kinks with him - hell, only a few weeks ago you had told him it gets you going when he finishes on you - yet it was this that made you embarrassed?

“I…I like it when you mark me,” you had admitted. “Brusies, biting, I don’t care how, but I like it. I like the physical reminder that I’m yours. I like other people knowing that I’m yours.”

His hand around yours had tightened and you watched the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Say that again, darling, please. I need you to say it again,” he had said softly, a new roughness lacing around his words. 

You had bitten your lip coyly in the way you knew drove him crazy. “I want everyone to know that I’m yours, Loki. Please.”

A grin had spread cross your lovers face, one that was both soft yet wicked, and he had climbed back eagerly between your legs. “Your wish is my command, darling.” 

That had only been a few short weeks ago. Now, as he thrusts into you almost ruthlessly, his fingers are gripping your thigh so tightly to his waist that you might pass out at how good it feels. 

He’s lost the hesitancy and the fear, and now a patchwork of purple and red splotches covers every part of your body that he can reach. Your chest and stomach are covered in bruises - all courtesy of his beautifully sinful mouth - and similar marks pepper the inside of your thighs from where he had held them apart to lick you to your first orgasm. 

Tonight, you’re riding a high so powerful and so blinding that you yearn for the ability to stop time, to stay locked forever in this bed with this god between your legs. 

Loki’s hand tightens around your thigh as your climax builds, making tiny stars dance enticingly at the edge of your vision. “Oh, fuck, Loki!” you groan, clutching him to you in sheer desperation. “Please! Let everyone…let everyone know…I’m yours!” 

He rolls his hips against yours with a ferocious force that makes you whimper and pants roughly in your ear, “I promise you…no one will question who you belong to…when they see you tomorrow morning.” 

His lips find your neck and you explode on his cock to the feel of him leaving a trail of fresh marks along the column of your throat. No part of you has been neglected tonight. 

Your orgasm has barely faded when Loki pulls his cock from your cunt, and you’re still floating so blissfully on the pink cloud of release that you don’t even raise an objection when he maneuvers your body so that you’re on all fours on the bed. 

“Oh, fuck,” you slur out when his cock thrusts back into you. Vaguely, it registers somewhere in your mind that you’ve had two orgasms while Loki has still to have one. 

A shiver wracks your entire body. 

“Oh, darling,” Loki purrs in faux sympathy. You feel a large hand clamp firmly around one hip while the other gathers your wrists to pin them against the small of your back. His grip on you is heavy and unyielding, and your cunt clenches joyfully around the aching length of him. “It looks like there’s still more canvas for me to paint.”

He gives a single roll of his hips and squeezes your hip in his iron grip. A sharp cry of pleasure tumbles from your lips while you wriggle back against him, silently begging for more. “I do hope you have no prior engagements, my love, because I don’t intend to stop until every inch of you is covered in my marks.”

#loki #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki smut

[catsgut]

Anon : Uhmm is there any chance of doing a surprise Sukuna fic in your kinktober list? Make my baby shine with your top-tier dark fic writing pleaseee 👉🥺👈

OMG i’ve been wanting to write sukuna for a while now i don’t think im quite ready to do a full fic, but i hope this suffices hehehe

warnings : noncon, reader doesnt know about sukuna, blood, virginity loss, not proof read

yuuji simply failed to see what was so awful about him dating a nonsorcerer. his friends had called him dumb for even the thought, yet yuuji actually wasn't the most astute. all he knew was that you were super hot and that he really liked you. to such an extent that consistently now he has set aside time for you, whether it be taking you out on a date or getting you a gift with the cash he saves up. you really felt appreciated when you were around yuuji.

and you were just oh so sweet. even gojo had a go at hitting on you a couple times, however you just accepted it as him being kind, flashing him a comforting grin as you clasped yuuji's hand with yours. "lets get going, sweetie. the movie will be starting soon," you said, your voice dissolving off your tongue like sugar, and yuuji wanted a taste.

the two of you finished your movie, neither of you liking it very much. "the part where she screamed sounded so fake," you giggled before leaning forward to take a sip through the straw of the soda he was holding. he thought his heart was going to explode seeing you so comfortable with him. the way in which your cute mouth folded over his straw made his dick twitch.

“hey uh… would you like to come back to my place for a bit? we would be alone and i just… want to spend more time with you,” you said bashfully looking into his eyes, and the virgin had never nodded his head so fast in his entire life. his reaction made you laugh as you took his arm to lead him the way. the walk to your house was filled with comfortable silence, the both of you being much too shy to say anything.

but what the two of you didn’t know was that sukuna was watching the entire time. from the moment yuji had met you, you caught the interest of the spirit. funnily enough, you were sukuna’s type as well, just for different reasons; sweet, pure, and most importantly, a virgin. it made him smile with delight seeing the poor, unsuspecting girl lead her boyfriend to the comfort of her home unknowing to the fact he was housing something far more demonic than she could ever imagine.

“i know it’s not much, but i hope you don’t mind,” you clap your hands together and grin shyly gesturing to the small apartment. no, yuji didn’t mind at all, only caring about what was going to happen next. would you guys cuddle? kiss? grind on each other with clothes on? the poor, horny boy had a million thoughts running through his mind, it didn’t register right away that he felt your small hands against his pecks. looking down at you, you were focused on feeling his muscles through the tight black shirt he was wearing. You peered up at him with an innocent look that made him feel like he was on cloud 9.

“wanted to for s’long,” you mumbled, dragging you soft finger tips down and down and down…. yuji felt like he was going to explode in his pants right in the entrance way of your home. it took everything in him to control himself, but little did he know sukuna was planning something that allowed little room for self-control.

yuji leaned down to gently meet your lips with his, tongue swirling inside your mouth in an inexperienced manner. he moaned at the taste and reached down under your thighs to pick you up. he wanted to make you think he knew what he was doing. you wrapped around legs around his waist as he carried you over to your couch. you could feel the hardness of his dick press against your core. “you’re so needy,” he smiled sheepishly. you just laid there watching the boy above you run his hands all over your body. yuji was trying to make himself seem confident, but on the inside he was screaming out of nervousness. 

“let me have a go,” he heard a taunting voice echo out in his head. he ignored the voice, instead latching his wet mouth on your neck. you whimpered, feeling his lips and teeth smear drool all over your skin. it didn’t feel the best, but you were happy with it being yuuji doing this to you. 

yuuji didn’t mean to take it so far, roughly grinding down on you. it just… it had been so long since he came and you felt so good. he didn’t mean to slip up this badly, but before he knew it, his body soon wasn’t his own. he watched his body move, unable to control his movements. ‘fuck,’ he thought, eyes widening as he watched his own hand reach down and grab your neck. 

you were too busy feeling him touching you to realize what was happening until you were unable to breath. eyes snapping open you looked up to see your boyfriend smirking from above you. 

“my my, you’re being so obedient,” sukuna spoke, words purring off his tongue. you gulped trying to wiggle out of his strong grasp but you were unable to do so. “it’s been so long since i’ve had a virgin,” he growled, leaning down to run his hot tongue up the side of your face. 

this didn’t feel like yuuji anymore, instead he was acting completely different. almost scary. you stared up at him as he ripped your shirt open with ease. has he always been that strong? one of his hands reached down to grip your writs together while the other groped and squeezed at your body. “y-yuuji this hurts,” your lip curled and you stared up at him hoping he would see you're uncomfortable. 

the sight below him made sukuna groan in excitement. you looked so pure…. so innocent as you looked up at him with your teary eyes. “there’s no use in fighting this, little girl.” a sinister grin etched across his handsome face, dread filling your body. was this actually happening? “please,” you voice sounded weak and frail only making his dick harder. large hands finished ripping the clothes off your body leaving you cold and bare. 

before you knew it, he was unbuckling the belt of his jeans. yuuji screamed and begged as he watching the cursed spirit strip his girlfriend of her clothes, but it did nothing to stop what was happening. sukuna only laughed, loving the sound the pain he was causing. it had been too long since he was able to ravage a woman properly, tired of watching the brat he was trapped inside of watch porn before bed everynight. intercourse was something that was to be bloody and rough, not loving and intimate. just the idea made him bored. 

you were flipped on your hands and knees. his hand pressed down on your upper back and you realized it would be useless to try and fight it. with a shaky breath, you braced yourself as he slammed his cock into your untouched hole. sukuna's eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the feeling, teeth harshly digging into his lip. he stood up off the couch with one leg and kept the other propped on the couch. without hesitation he began pounding into you. "cmon make some noise, bitch!" he laughed loudly slapping your ass knowing you were unable to make even the slightest of noise with the air being fucked from your lungs. you've never been in more pain in your life till now and you were sure the wetness dripping from your thighs wasn't just your body's arousal. 

"dirty girl bleeding all over your boyfriend's cock," his words both confirmed your fears and confused you. what happened to your sweet boyfriend? the one who couldn't even bring himself to step on an insect. What flipped inside him to cause him to act this way towards you?. 

you were slowly unable to think of anything but the excruciating pain in your lower stomach. you could tell yuuji, or whoever he was, was close by the way his breathing was picking up. by the time he did finally finish, you felt your hole gush and swell with the amount of cum he fucked inside you. slowly, he pulled out whistling at the sight. your hips were brusied black and purple from his grip on them and your pussy was smeared with cum and blood. sukuna felt satisfied with himself, knowing yuuji wouldn't be able to fix any emotional and physical damage that had been done. it was almost a little sneak peek into what he was capable of. 

eventually, after enough time had passed, yuuji had gained control of his body again, but little could be said about you. slowly you crawled your way to the other side of the room, shaking with fear, yuujis heart broke hearing you beg for him to leave, demand he go, but after a few minutes of watching you cry he decided it was best he did. you cried yourself to sleep that night, feeling nothing but betrayal while yuuji cried feeling nothing but guilt for what he let happen. 

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #tw.noncon #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #tw.dark content

[swordsmans]

excellent news from usps--i can now talk about this beauty!! i had the pleasure of typesetting and binding @the-furthest-city-light's wonderful zolu fic spill your wine and it was a ride from start to finish (repurposed prototypes and injuries included). overall, i'm extremely pleased with how it turned out!!

this was a full fabric, square-backed case binding with a peek through cover showcasing a heat transfer foiled title on the (red, burgundy, gold) endsheet (and a hidden katana design to match the charm). things got a bit weird near the spine because i didnt anticipate my glue acting funky under the heat, but live and learn! the outside covers turned out plenty clean.

the edges are painted with matte black acrylic and sealed with beeswax, and the bookmark is a little 4mm burgundy silk number tipped with a gold clasp and katana charm (of course). the silk is very thin/fragile, so in the future i think ill double the length i use.

i also had a great time typesetting this! when i first read this i knew i wanted to do something that was both angular/modern and ornately victorian (with a red, black, gold scheme). this had to be decadent and beautifully clash-y, because nothing less would suffice for the kind of author who'd use a verse from the canticle of canticles as the summary for a fic series like this. truly iconic. nerds will notice that this is a little visually reversed from the way books are traditionally typeset, which is also intentional. i think it fits the vibe of the bind and the fic. i hope the vision came through.

this was actually the second case i built; i wasnt happy with the first one so i ripped it up and made a notebook (with the front and back covers) and bookmark (from the spine) for dani, which was a fun little experiment. i just... didnt take any pictures, apparently?

overall this was a really fun and challenging project, and i cant believe its done!!!! wow!!!

#zolu #bookbinding #fanbinding #bad blade bindery #binderary 2024 #yes jojo those are your one piece volumes i think i accidentally stole them

[darkkryptonian]

Summary: A virgin Nat x G!P Reader fic.

A/N: Did I go a bit overboard with the lovey-dovey stuff, yes. Is it because I am feeling extremely lonely, also yes.

So, I will be taking girlfriend applications from- I am kidding. There is no time limit. ;)

_____________________________________________

She moaned and arched her back as you pumped your fingers in and out of her. You were going in deeper than all the times before this and she seemed to enjoy it. 

After a few minutes, she held your wrist as your knuckles hit her and started moving on her own. You gently rubbed her clit in soothing circles knowing she was close and that pushed her over the edge. 

She stilled in your arms as an intense orgasm washed over her and you held her close, mumbling soft nothings in her ear. She was in a daze and you looked at her lovingly, pulling her chin forward to kiss her.

“That's my girl.”

You said between kisses and she shivered at the claim. She moaned and whined a little when you pulled your fingers out of her. But you kept your hand pressed up against her opening for a bit, hoping to calm her.

“That was…”

She started and looked at you.

“Intense?”

“Very much so.”

You chuckled and pulled her close. She snuggled closer to you and looked up again. Her eyes filled with a decision.

“I think I am ready.”

You looked at her curiously.

“Ready?”

She ran her hand down your stomach and gently took a hold of your very, very hard dick.

“For this.”

She leaned forward and whispered in your ear.

“I want you to breed me, Alpha.”

That declaration sent a shiver down your spine and you possessively held her by her waist.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded with certainty in her eyes and you kissed her hard. But, you stopped her as she started grinding herself on you.

“I don't want our first time to be in the back of a car. So, would you like to go on a date with me, Ms. Romanoff?”

You asked, teasing her entrance with the tip of your finger. She moaned softly before answering,

“I would love that.”

_____________________________________ 

You met on the university grounds. Sitting by herself, focusing on the book in her hand. She was unlike any person you had ever laid eyes on.

You were the heir to one of the biggest tech companies in the world. So, omegas tend to throw themselves at you and suffice it to say, you took complete advantage of that.

But, she was different. When you sat by her side, wanting to discuss the book in her hand, she asked for time to complete it and then discuss it with you in detail. You nodded and asked her if she knew when she would be done. 

“Maybe in two days.”

She replied and you nodded.

“How about I take you out for a coffee on Friday? So, we can discuss the book.”

“Are you sure that is the only reason you want me to go have a coffee with you?”

“No. I also wish for it to be a bit more than just a discussion. It is an official invite for a date.”

You said confidently and she seemed to contemplate her answer. 

“Okay. Coffee on Friday.”

You smiled and kissed her cheek before leaving.

_____________________________________ 

That day, you didn't know if it would work. But today as your fingers entwined over the gear shift of your car, you knew that Natasha Romanoff was your future. You smiled and tightened the hold on her hand.

She in return rubbed her thumb over yours. You pulled her hand towards you and kissed it right where your fingers met. You finally stopped your car in front of her house and hopped out to open her door.

“I will pick you up at 7.”

You said and softly kissed her.

“I will be waiting.”

You finally released her waist and she waved before disappearing into her home.

_____________________________________ 

You gave yourself another glance in the mirror. To say you were nervous about today would be an understatement. 

You have had sex with several women till now. More often than not your nights were spent with women in your bed. But, it was your first time having sex with someone you were in love with.

You reached Natasha's place and rang her doorbell. She opened the door and you were sure your jaw was just a few inches from the ground. She was wearing a beautiful maroon dress which left just enough for imagination and if it wasn't for your resolve to give her the best date she had in her life, you would've devoured her right then and there.

But, you offered her the flowers you bought for her instead. She smiled, looking at the red roses, and asked you to step in for a moment, to place the flowers in a vase.

She filled up a vase nearby with water and placed the roses in it. Once she was done, you offered your arm and she held your bicep as you stepped out.

You opened the car door for her and clipped her seatbelt. 

The first few times you did it she felt it was a bit weird that you insisted on the seat belt thing. But, then you explained that you wanted to keep the most precious thing in your life safe, and that made her melt a little.

After that, every argument you had, every little spat, was resolved once you clicked that seat belt for her. 

“All safe and sound.”

You said and kissed her before hopping over to your end. You started the car and took her hand in yours kissing it.

_____________________________________ 

You reached the restaurant and the host waiting for you outside placed a basket basked in your back seat. Natasha looked at you with surprise in her eyes.

“We are not going in there?”

“No, no. I just thought it would be a disaster if I cooked.”

She chuckled, maybe remembering the time when you burned the pot of boiling water. 

“It would be. Yes.”

You chuckled with her at that and started driving.

“Where are we going then?”

“It's a surprise.”

_____________________________________ 

After driving for about an hour, you finally reached the place and opened the door for Natasha again, unclipping her seatbelt and offering her your hand.

She looked around and it was a bit dark to be able to see anything. She held onto your hand a bit tighter. You pulled her closer and placed an assuring hand on her waist, knowing she was a bit afraid of the dark.

You led her a bit further into the woods and she gasped at the sight in front of her. The place was illuminated with tons of small lights and there was a blanket in the middle. You were giving her a picnic under the stars.

She looked at you with a few tears in her eyes before hugging you hard and muttering “Thank you” over and over again.

You held her close till she was ready to part again. You placed the picnic basket on the blanket and pulled her in your lap.

“Let's eat, shall we?”

_____________________________________ 

After you were done with your meal, you had Natasha wrapped in your coat and the both of you in a blanket. She was snuggled closer to you, and you were talking about everything and nothing.

Her head was placed on your shoulder and you had held her waist possessively and you realized there was no other moment in your life where you were as happy.

“Will you marry me?”

That made Natasha go still in your arms and she looked up. Maybe she was trying to find dishonesty in your request. But, you looked at her just as intensely.

“Ask me again.���

She said and you sat both of you up. You held her cheeks in your hands and looked into her eyes.

“Will you, Natasha Romanoff, marry me?”

“I will, yes. Of course. Yes.”

She rushed it out and you kissed her with all your might.

“You have just made me the happiest person on this planet.”

You kissed her again and before you both realized it, you were a tangle of limbs on the cold ground with only a blanket under you. 

“Not here.”

You said pulling away, panting.

“If you think I can wait for an hour for you to drive in the city…”

“No, no. Of course not, my Princess. Come on.”

You stood up and offered her a hand. She took it and stood with you.

“There is only one thing I wish to do right now.”

You said and you motioned toward her neck. She instantly knew what you meant.

“You want to claim me?”

“I cannot think of any better place to do it.”

She looked into your eyes and smiled. 

“You may.”

You smiled and your hand directly went up her dress and between her legs while the other pulled her closer. You growled when you realized she wasn't wearing any panties and you pumped your fingers into her.

You softly bit down on her neck and she hissed as the pressure increased. You kept fucking her with your fingers as you finally staked your claim and she came hard with a mix of pain and pleasure. If it wasn't for your assuring hand on her waist, she would not be able to stand anymore.

After she came down from her high, you looked into her eyes.

“You are officially mine now.”

You said matter of factly and she nodded.

“All yours.”

You kissed her once again but pulled apart.

“Let's go.”

“Where?”

But you just decided to pull her towards the Stark cabin on the property. It was a small walk from the lake and you reached there within a few minutes. 

You unlocked the door using your thumbprint.

“Come on in, my Princess.”

You said, picking her up in a bridal carry and carrying her inside. 

You carried her to the nearest bedroom and placed her on the bed. You kissed her softly and looked at her. Her eyes seemed a bit unsure now.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes. It's my first time. What if it hurts? What if I am not good? What if-”

You cut her ramble off with another kiss and pulled away.

“We can stop if you wish to. Anytime. I am right here with you. Okay?”

She nodded and you placed another kiss on her lips before finding a vulnerable place on her dress and tearing it down to her navel. You softly push it out of the way and take her nipple in your mouth while stimulating the other with your thumb and index finger.

She gasps as you bite her nipple.

“So fucking beautiful.”

You whisper to yourself more than her, but she hears it and a blush spreads across her neck.

She gasps again when you finally tear down her dress entirely and start placing kisses and bites all over her stomach before finally licking her sticky wet center.

“Fuck!”

She exclaims and you look up.

“That is the plan.”

You dive in again, licking the pussy. She writhes under you and tries to both pull you closer and push you away as she is extremely sensitive because of the recent claim stake.

“Cum.”

You command and keep eating her. She lets go and you suck on her clit and her entire pussy to collect all her pleasure.

She is convulsing for a bit before she calms down and you keep licking her to keep her nice and wet for the bigger intrusion waiting for her.

You stand up and remove your shirt and then your pants. She looks at you hungrily as you strip and she grabs your hard dick over your underwear.

She moans at its size and you pull it out.

“Suck.”

You command and she crawls over taking your tip in her mouth. She sucks and licks your head, but you have had enough and you take a hold of her hair and push more than half of your length in her mouth. 

You hold her there till her mascara runs down her face. You pull it out to let her take a breath before pushing it in again and fucking her throat.

After a few turns, she is bobbing her head on the dick herself. You make her gag on your dick a few times before pushing her onto her back and biting down hard on your fresh claim.

She wails with pleasure and pain and you softly push your tip inside her. But, she does not say her safe word and you keep going.

She gasps and writhes under you. But you hold her in place and push a few more inches into her. She holds on close to you and you stop for a moment.

“Are you okay, Princess?”

You ask and she nods in your neck.

“Good girl, good girl. Just a bit more to go.”

She nods again and you finally push your entire length inside her.

That makes her wail loud in the sudden intrusion and pain and you lick her neck, your claim and kiss her to soothe her pain. You keep kissing her till she calms down a bit.

After a few minutes, you feel her starting to move under you, trying to get some friction and you start moving softly in and out of her. She moans and you finally start fucking her.

You start slow and steady but increase your speed when she starts asking for more. You start pumping in and out of her hard and fast and she holds onto your back with her sharp nails. You pick her up by her ass and push her against a wall.

“This is going to get hard and harsh now. Understood?”

She nods and you start fucking her harder. She bounces on your dick and you push a finger in her asshole. 

She gasps at the sudden intrusion and cums hard on your dick.

“You like that, huh?”

You ask as you keep fucking her. Her face is adorned with blush and she hides her face in your neck.

“Look at me.”

You command and she pulls away to look into your eyes.

“Did you like it when I stimulated your asshole?”

She nods.

“Verbal confirmation.”

“Yes. I loved it.”

“Good girl.”

She cums a few more times after that and you keep on fuckingbher through all her orgasms before shooting your load in her.

“I am going to knot.”

You declare and she opens up her legs a bit wider to accommodate you.

“Give it to me, please.”

You nod and take her to bed. You move both of you in a comfortable position, her on top of you before expanding her entire pussy with your knot and connecting both of you. She shrieks as she is opened up so much and you suck her boobs to relieve her pain a bit.

You pull away and kiss your exhausted fiance. 

“You did so good, My Princess.”

She whines and tries to move before pain shoots down your knot.

“Don't. We have to wait till the knot goes down.”

She whines and hides her face in your neck.

“I love you.”

She grumbles resembling something of a response of a similar kind and you smile before both of you are pulled into a slumber.

_____________________________________ 

The next morning, you wake up with morning wood. Your wood is enveloped by warmth and you start pumping in and out before soft moans completely wake you up.

She is moaning in her sleep and you increase your speed and pressure to fuck her and she wakes up when you hit one of her sore spots from last night.

“So, now that you can fuck me, you will just use me as a fuck hole, huh?”

Your dick gets more strained at that.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?”

You pump in her hard and hold onto her throat.

“Of course I do, my fuck hole.”

You kiss her. You fuck her till she cums and you empty your load in her again before pulling out of her and she whines at the emptiness.

“Don't wear anything. We are here for two more days and I am hoping to take complete advantage.”

You smirk and spank her pussy as she whines and leaps to you before you run away.

“Go and get ready. I am making breakfast.”

#Natasha Romanoff #G!P Reader #Alpha Reader #Omega Natasha Romanoff #Omega!natasha #bottom natasha romanoff #bottom!natasha #the avengers #they fuck #of course #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov

[changbunnies]

Misbehave, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Boyfriend!Changbin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: smut, pre-established relationship

♡ Word Count: 4k

♡ Summary: Changbin is on tour and misses his pretty girlfriend back home- and what better way to tell her he misses her than to send her a naughty video? 

♡ Smut Warnings: sub!changbin, video recording, nipple play, masturbation, mommy kink (this is self indulgent okay), sex toys, phone sex, it is more than implied that bin has a degradation kink, petnames (baby, bunny, honey)

♡ Notes: so i saw this video of a guy in bunny pajamas jerking off and it gave me SUCH bad binnie brainrot i literally could not stop imagining him in cute pink bunny pajamas recording a video for his gf 😵‍💫😵‍💫 so yeah enjoy this purely self indulgent smut ! and i read a lot of mommy kink fic but this is my first time actually writing it so i'm not super confident its good but i hope it's at least decently enjoyable gfdgdf

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

“Baby! I’m wearing the pajamas you got me, you see?” Changbin smiles, bright and cute, just the way you like it as he looks into his phone's camera. The pajamas are a fluffy, pastel pink full body suit; warm, soft, cozy, with cute lopped bunny ears connected to the hood he has pulled up over his curly hair. You got the pajamas for him because they reminded you of him, you said, and he positively beamed- because you were thinking of him, because you bought him something so adorable, because now he gets to show them off for you.

He didn’t get a chance to wear them before he was getting shipped off on the next plane out of the country, but of course he packed them with him. And now, on a break between shows where he could just relax and take a breath, he decided this was the best time to wear them. But not just wear them- he had to show them to you! And sure, a few pictures would suffice, but isn’t this better? You can fully see how cute he looks in them this way, how the size you picked was just perfect, which he’s sure is because you know him inside and out. 

He takes the soft pink bunny ears connected to the hood in his hands and flops them around, smiling while tilting his head back and forth, playing up his cuteness for the maximum effect. “If you were here, you’d call me cute, right? Your cute baby bunny?” Luckily for Changbin, he’s used to talking to a camera and displaying his cuteness, so recording a video like this for you comes to him naturally. And it’s lucky for you too, since that means your inbox is always full of new videos to get you through the drought until he comes back home.  

Changbin can just imagine how you'd dote on him if you could see him now; you'd kiss his cheeks and nose, you'd ruffle his messy hair, you'd overload him with compliments and sweet words until his face goes pink and dick twitches in his pants. And really, he can't help that his body reacts to you this way- he just loves you so much, he lives for your compliments, and it's not his fault that the sweet, sometimes condescending way you speak them gets him all worked up. And while it's unfortunate he won't be able to get your initial reaction to his cute display in person, his imagination is more than enough fuel to keep him going. 

“There's more I want to show you, you ready?” Changbin says as he starts to scoot away from where he has his phone propped up to record himself. It’s set pretty precariously against the pillows, seemingly on the verge of toppeling at any second, but he doesn’t think about that- his only thought is putting on a show for you. “It’s so soft- but you already know that, honey, you’re the one who picked it out,” he giggles a little to himself, giddy as he once again remembers it's a gift from you (exclamation point: you!), but he forces himself to stay on track before he gets too distracted.

“Since it’s so soft and comfy, I don’t need to wear anything underneath! See?” Changbin takes the zipper in his hand and he intends to pull it down slowly, but well.. he’s excited, and just can’t wait to show you how naked he is underneath the soft fluff of the pajamas you bought him. Sitting on his knees, he pulls the zipper down swiftly; and how quick he pulls it down causes it to get stuck for a moment, but he manages to keep it going smoothly after correcting its course.

If you were here, you’d definitely laugh at him for being so eager- you’d say something mean, but in that sweet, saccharine voice that’d instantly make his face flush pink and dick grow impossibly hard. You’d giggle at him for being pathetic, cock up your eyebrow and tilt your head to the side when he blushes, smirk when you see him twitch and throb and squirm after calling him a slut for always putting himself out on display for you.

The pajamas, big and loose as they are to comfortably fit all of Changbin’s muscle mass, completely hid his erection from view until the zipper was pulled all the way down. His chest, his cute tummy, his leaky cock- you can see it all now. But despite being exposed, he doesn’t take the pajamas off- he keeps the hood pulled up, doesn’t slip his arms out of the sleeves or take his legs out of the pants. He leaves them on for one main reason- because he feels cute in them, and wants you to think he's cute too. 

“When I put them on I started thinking of you,” he says as he shifts into a more comfortable position off of his knees. There’s nothing to prop himself up against at the foot of the bed, so he has to just lean to one side and support himself with a single arm; not ideal, but the headboard has the very important task of keeping his phone upright (with the support of the pillows) and he will not be shifting anything around or starting over.

“A-And I get so hard whenever I think about you because you’re just so- mommy’s so pretty,” he says as his fingers ghost over his muscular chest, tracing the skin before he brushes his thumb over his nipple- the same way you would do it if you were here right now. It’s now that a blush finally rises on his cheeks; and it’s not that he’s embarrassed by doing it infront of a camera or from the image of himself tweaking his nipples reflected back at him, that part doesn’t matter- it’s because he’s sensitive.

His sensitivity to touch, whether yours or his own, is always enough to make his face burn, as it’s always a source of your teasing touches and words. You’ll pinch his sensitive nipples between your fingers while whispering filthy, playful words in his red-tinted ears, softly laughing when he squirms and whines. “I miss you,” he speaks to the camera, biting his lip when he rolls his nipple between his thick fingers, trying not to become too whiny right from the start.

Changbin is sure you’d like it if he was whiny right away, but he has to focus. He knows there’s major appeal in him becoming restless and needy quickly, and he has already shown how eager he is by hastily fumbling with his zipper, but still- he wants this video to last longer than a measly 5 minutes. It takes you longer to cum than him, and he needs to provide a video long enough for you to play with yourself to without having to loop it- that’s his thought process, anyways.

He averts his gaze from his phone setup, opting to look down at himself as he reaches over his chest to give his other nipple equal treatment. "I miss-" he starts to elaborate, but stumbles on his words after giving his nipple a particularly harsh tug. Shit- he has to move on if he wants to stay coherent enough to make a good video for you. Becoming unable to speak in the last few minutes is acceptable, but now, when he's barely even started? No, he has to do better!

So he trails his hand downwards, away from his chest and over his soft stomach as he tries again to let out what he wants to tell you.  “I miss your smile, and- m-miss your kisses, your perfume, your hugs, your-” It’s a habit of Changbin’s to babble in these situations once he starts talking thanks to your influence on him. You like to get him talking when he’s like this- hearing him shyly babble away all the things he thinks you want to hear is easily one of your favorite things about fucking him.

And he obviously knows this, which is why he’s freely speaking every little thing that comes to his mind, knowing that you’ll like it (even if watching it back later will make him feel incredibly embarrassed.) Changbin isn’t shy about many things, but you always effortlessly bring his bashful side out. It’s another one of your favorite things, he knows- reducing your otherwise confident and unashamed boyfriend into an overly talkative, shy mess while his body takes on varying shades of pink and red.

So he does his best to bring himself to that place without your presence, to picture you there in front of him encouraging him to go on, to pretend his hand is yours instead. His string of words is broken by a harsh, shuddery breath when his hand finally reaches his cock. Changbin licks his drying lips and looks back at himself in the camera as he takes his length into his hand, stroking it as slowly as he can stand to.

It's more of a struggle than he'd like to admit- this is the first day he's had enough freetime to touch himself since leaving weeks ago, and his sensitivity, paired with the knowledge that he's recording for you and that you'll see all of this when you wake up in a couple of hours is causing his need to grow at an exponentially faster rate than he was prepared for.

He lets out a hiss when he rubs his thumb over the tip, and he has to make a conscious effort not to squirm or jolt his hips up into his hand too abruptly (both for his own sake, and his phone that isn't entirely stable in its placement.) Changbin's bottom lip quickly grows swollen and red from how frequently he bites at it in a vain effort to contain himself, and while it's more than mildly embarrassing to have such little control over his own body and voice, he knows you'll enjoy watching his failed efforts.

Changbin forces eye contact with the view of himself in his phone, wanting to ensure that it feels like he's looking at you when you inevitably watch it. He observes every detail, does his best to take note of what it is you'll be seeing; he watches the rise and fall of his own chest, how his stomach clenches, how his ever so slightly exposed thighs tense and twitch. You'll like this, right? Will think he's as sexy as he is cute? Will love it so much that you'll rub yourself over your dampening panties, that you'll reward him with a flood of sweet messages to wake up to when its morning for him?

"D-Do I look good like this, mama?" he asks the camera as he speeds up the motion of his hand, "Yes, right? I do? You love this, love me?" He briefly allows his eyes to close, imagining that you're there to answer his desperate questions- 'You look perfect, Binnie, you're amazing, such a good boy for me, I love you.' He can really hear you if he concentrates on the thought, as if you're just in front of him and not thousands of miles away peacefully asleep in bed.

Opening his eyes, Changbin remembers the bunny pajamas aren't the only thing he brought with him that he wanted to show you- he still has another surprise in store that he hopes you'll like to see. Letting go of his cock, he brings himself back to his knees and reaches for something just out of view of the camera- his fleshlight. His phone tilts from the shift in the weight, and Changbin is quick to catch it before it completely topples over.

He offers the camera a shy, somewhat awkward giggle as he puts his phone back in place, making an effort to secure it better this time in the hopes that it won't jostle too much from what he plans to do next. And in trying to get his toy ready quickly, he pours practically his entire travel-sized bottle of lube into it; a waste for sure, but he can always buy more later- getting the show back on track is more important.

Changbin is leaned forward now, face as close to the camera as it was when he was playing with the ears attached to the hood. His face being close again doesn't obscure the view of his body at all though, thanks to the fact that he's leaning at an angle, with one palm flat on the bed to support his weight while the other holds the fleshlight where he wants it. He's a bit nervous for this part, if he's being honest- maintaining eye contact himself while he fucks his toy is something he's never done before, but he wants to do it for you, so you have the best experience possible when he sends the video to you!

Other than briefly looking away to line himself up with the toy in his hand, he looks into the camera the entire time- as he slides inside, as he gasps and moans, as he rolls his hips over and over and over. He wonders if you’ve noticed it was gone; did you open up your shared drawer, pull out the bag containing all your fun little toys to have some fun with yourself, noticing in an instant that he took his own toys with him?

He imagines you did- that you pulled it out, intending to rummage for one of your vibrators and clearly saw it missing. You'd smile when you realized, he thinks, as there's only one reason to take such a thing with him. And you'd think of him the same way he always thinks of you, imagine him there next to you, close your eyes and pretend you're teasing him by making him watch you use a vibrator, not letting him touch you unless he's a good boy and keeps his hands to himself until you cum.

Changbin is always a good boy, even in his imaginary scenarios- he'd never, never do anything against what you tell him. Even when he imagines you touching yourself, when he thinks about what scenarios you'd picture in your mind to get off, he's a good boy who does whatever he's told, watching and waiting patiently for his time to touch you.

The ears on the hood still pulled over his fluffy hair bounce with each movement he makes, and finally he breaks eye contact with his phone, his head falling forward and eyes squeezing shut as his whimpers and moans grow in volume. "F-Feels so good baby, mom-mommy, mama, Binnie feels so- so good," he whines, biting his lip once more as he lifts his head to look at the camera again.

If he wasn't already so far gone, he'd feel bad for his neighbor on the other side of the hotel wall; he knows he's getting loud, but he can't help it. He's fucking his toy, head full of you- of what you'd say to him, how you'd sound with your vibrator pressed to your clit, how you'd expertly time your release with his, how you'd look at him when you cum together. With his eyes squeezed shut, he can perfectly conjure the image of you in his head, vivid and almost real enough to trick his brain into believing you’re together right now.

The way you smile at him always rattles his senses, pretty to an almost ethereal degree, sharply contrasting the dirty words you confidently, unashamedly tell him. And while your voice rings clearly in his head, it’s not really you- it’s just the memory of you; vivid, clear, but not as real as he wants it to be. His imagination helps but it’s still nothing compared to if you were really talking to him, if he could see you when he opens his eyes, if he could reach out and touch you or smell your perfume mixed with arousal.

Changbin just wants you, he misses you so fucking bad. It’s the early hours of the morning where you are, and you’re likely still asleep, but he has to call you, has to hear your voice. He obviously intended to cum on camera for you, and he’ll definitely feel bad about waking you up when he’s back in his right mind, but all he can think about right now is how much he craves you. He reaches for his phone, hastily ending the recording and pulling up your contact, pressing the call button before he can even think to stop himself.

The phone rings for so unbearably long that Changbin expects to hear your voicemail message, but to his surprised relief, you answer; a soft, deep and groggy “hello?” from the other end of the line. “Mommy-” he whines upon hearing your voice, his desperation clear through the speaker pressed to your ear. As if the needy whine wasn't enough of a tell to what he's doing, you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of what you can only assume to be either his lubed up hand or one of his toys beneath his panting breaths and whimpery moans.

"Binnie," you start, a playful tone emerging in your voice, the haze of sleep melting away in record time in response to hearing your sweet boy playing with himself, "are you being naughty?" He nods quickly before he remembers you can't even see him right now and he needs to provide a verbal answer. "Y-Yeah, I- I was m-making a video for you but I need- need you so bad right now," he answers, his entire body shuddering when he hears you sweetly laugh in response.

"You always make me videos, though," you muse with a smile as you shift in bed, "but I'm guessing this is a naughty video, huh? Is that right, sweet boy?" Changbin whines when you call him that, but quickly affirms the statement with a timid 'yes.' You hum as your smile grows, settling comfortably on your back as you continue to talk to him. "So, what happened? Got so needy while making your slutty little video for me that you couldn't even finish it properly? Had to call mommy and wake her up just so you could finish getting off, is that it?"

He lets out another whine- louder this time, and beneath it another sound becomes obvious to your ears; whatever hotel bed he's on is beginning to creak. It tells you something important- that's he's not just laying on his back and stroking himself, but that he's deliberately fucking whatever it is he's using. And given the growing volume and rapid rate of the creaking, you imagine he's rutting into it pretty desperately.

Oh, what a sight he must be right now- it's a shame he's not recording anymore, because his debauched desperation would reflect beautifully on camera, a perfect image for only your eyes to see. "Are your eyes closed, bunny? Are you imagining me there?" you suddenly ask him and again he answers with an affirmative, albeit timid, whine. Good, you think, you know exactly what to do with this information- a little bit of roleplay is just the thing your sweet boy needs.

"How's my pussy feel, baby? Is it good?" you ask, having to bite your lip to suppress a delighted laugh when he gasps and whimpers. The fact that you're playing into his ongoing mental fantasies and pretending he's fucking you is driving him impossibly close to the edge. "S-So good, mama!" he manages to stutter out, and you can tell his rutting has grown more sporadic, the creaking of the bed far less successive and rhythmic as it was when you first noticed it.

“So wet, always so wet-” he continues, cutting himself off with a particularly loud whimper. In true ‘good boy’ fashion, Changbin intended to babble away all his thoughts and the things he knew you’d want to hear him say, but he has himself so high strung and taut that all he can do now is spill noise after noise from his harshly bitten lips. He wishes he wasn’t so close, if only so you could hear your voice for a little longer, but he can’t delay it much more than he already has. And the poor boy, he tries to ask for permission, or at least warn you it’s coming, but all that comes out are broken syllables between all his panting and crying.

It’s obvious he’s close without him even having to say it, and while your bunny appreciates a mean streak when it comes from you, you can tell he needs this and you’re not going to punish him for struggling to ask for permission. Instead, you’ll sweetly encourage him along; because another thing about Changbin is that he hates being bad, even when it’s by accident. “Gonna fill me up, sweet boy? Fill mommy’s pussy with your cum?” you ask, ensuring he knows it’s more than okay, that you want him to cum for you.

Changbin’s eyes roll back the instant the words leave your mouth, his cum spurting into the toy as a string of broken cries leave him in quick succession. He collapses to the bed with exhaustion when he’s finally done, his chest heaving as he tries to calm his racing heart and get his breathing back under control. He’s impossibly hot, from equal parts the pajamas and how worked up he got, his face red hot and his hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, eyes still closed while his brain tries to reboot itself and get back to normal function.

“Shit-” he suddenly scrambles back up, pressing the phone back up to his ear, “I’m so sorry, you were sleeping, it’s still early there and I called you anyways, oh my god-” Your giggle cuts off his string of apologies, and while he’s still impossibly sorry for waking you up just because he was horny, he is relieved you’re not mad at him. “It’s okay Bin, it was better than waking up to my alarm clock, that’s for sure,” you muse with a smile; could you have gotten an extra hour or two of sleep? Of course, but is this better? Absolutely.

“I love you, you know that? I love you so fucking much,” Changbin says and you giggle again before you reply. “I love you too, so don’t forget to send me that video! And clean yourself up, bunny, I know you’re a mess right now. I’ll stay on the phone with you, okay?” “Yeah? You will?” he smiles as he complies, carefully rising from the bed to get himself and his toy clean. “Mhm, it’s starting to get late for you, right? I’ll stay until you sleep,” you tell him, and oh, does that make him ecstatic.

He sends you the video before he forgets, and you talk about mundane things while he takes care of all the tasks he needs to get done to sleep. You’re talking about little things like what you plan to eat for breakfast, what you have to do at work today, what friends you’re going to meet for lunch- and Changbin soaks it all up happily, sighing contentedly as he lies back in his hotel bed, curled up with your soft voice to lull him comfortably to sleep. You don’t stop until you hear his soft snores and measured breaths, whispering to him a ‘good night’ and ‘I love you’ that he can no longer hear, but you have to say regardless. 

Ending the call, you still have an hour left before you have to start your day in earnest, with a video in your inbox from your sweet boy just waiting to be watched and played to. You smile as you set your laptop at the foot of the bed and click open his video along with your camera, rays of sunshine just beginning to illuminate your room through the curtains, setting a beautiful backdrop as you set yourself up to return your sweet boyfriend’s favor.

#this was supposed to come out sooner but i got sick earlier this week :') forgive me besties #skz x reader #changbin x reader #skz smut #changbin smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #sub!skz #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-seven

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: omg we're coming up on the end i could cry :') i finished writing everything and i feel like a shell of a person rn without this fic to plan and write, but i hope you guys are excited! there will be five more parts after this and then the epilogue, which brings me to some really exciting news!!

big news #1: i'm opening oneshot requests for this series!! my normal requests will remain closed but i'd love to see what you guys want for the more of this series! (link is here!)

big news #2: the end of this story is opening the doors to my third coryo series which I've been working on for a hot minute, and it'll be called requiem! (see the original request for it here to get the vibes before i post anything!)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

The protests caught you off guard, more than anything.

It had only been two weeks since you started your classes and you were loving them, but you hated getting dropped off in the morning and picked up in the afternoon. You and Coryo could no longer eat lunch outside, and the previously full lecture halls you had occupied saw more and more students dropping out as people stood outside just to shout at you as you came and went from the school four days a week. To call you an animal, that you don't belong there, that you should be "put down" for crimes against the Capitol. What they were? You had no idea.

Suffice to say, parents were not happy that you were there.

Generally, Coryo said that people had loved you in the games. You were "harmless", and "sweet", you gave them someone to root for- but now that you were walking freely among them instead of being kept behind the bars at the zoo or trapped inside the arena awaiting your death, you were suddenly a threat.

"They... they think I'll hurt someone?" You sniff, watery eyes overflowing as you look at Coryo lying beside you in his bed.

He bites his tongue, nodding as he wipes away your tears with the hand he has resting just under your cheek on top of his pillow. "They're afraid. That's all, it's not because of anything you did."

"I won't." You cry. "I would never, you know that, right?"

"I know, love. I know that." He promises you quietly.

"I don't want people to be afraid of me. It's not fair to them... If they feel unsafe I should just drop out."

"You're not doing that." He insists with a slight shake of his head. "We'll figure it out. Okay? Don't worry about them."

You just nod softly, wiping your eyes as he pushes his arm under your neck. "C'mere." He mumbles rolling onto his back and you move closer, laying your head on his chest as he pulls you closer to his side.

Coryo did figure it out, for the most part, which is how you ended up standing in Capitol TV's studios, awaiting an interview with Lucky Flickerman, someone you definitely thought you would never see again after the games. You didn't know how Coryo did it, who he had to talk to in order to convince them to let you plead your case so publicly. Apparently, the Snow name came with more power than you knew.

"You're gonna do great, love." Coryo whispers to you. "Just be yourself, but remember what I said about your essay, right? Be honest, but think about how you word things. I know you can do it." He assures you quietly, hands resting on your shoulders.

You nod, giving him a hopeful smile. "Thank you."

"I'll be right here, I'm not going anywhere." These types of reassurances were becoming less and less necessary over the month you've been here, but still, you don't like it when he's far, and he doesn't like it when he doesn't know where you are. It worked nicely for you both.

"Miss Y/L/N, whenever you're ready." One of the crew directs you, pointing to the comfortable chair they had set up in front of a homey-looking backdrop. It was fake, but it was meant to look like you were in someone's house. The idea of it was confusing to you, but you supposed it was also unimportant. You had much bigger concerns.

"Thank you." You smile at them and give Coryo another quick nod before making your way over to the seat that they said was yours.

Coryo watches as you carefully brush your hands over the front of your dress, smoothing it as you sit down. You looked so elegant as you did it, if he didn't know better, it looked like the habits of the people you were now surrounded with were rubbing off on you quickly. He had watched you rehearse how you would carry yourself and how you would speak and act with Tigris just this morning, after she fit you into the dress she had made for the occasion. Clearly, you had been paying attention.

When you draw your hair from your back and over your shoulder so your meticulously styled curls wouldn't be crushed against the chair, Coryo thinks he might need to sit down. Especially so when you look back at him again, subtly waving at him with your hand from where they are placed in your lap. The dress Tigris had given to you was red- a deep red silky material that complimented the red of his coat and mimicked the shade of the Capitol's flag but still had you standing out on your own. Seeing the way that dress fit you and hugged your form in all the right ways even as you were sitting, he was sure he had never been more grateful to his cousin and her talents.

"Y/N, it's so good to see you again." Lucky smiles at you as he sits down across from you, adjusting the small device attached to his lapel as crew members come up to you and fasten the same thing to the front and back of your dress.

"You as well." You grin, trying the best you can to mask your nervousness.

"Are you ready? Do you need anything?" He asks and you shake your head.

"I am ready whenever you are." You confirm, looking around as some more lights flick on, bright in your eyes as the man behind the camera starts counting down.

You look over at Coryo one last time and he nods at you. It was just like your first interview all over again- you had to sell yourself to the people. To prove that you were worth trusting.

"My name is Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman," You smile as he flips a coin up into the air. You've seen him do it before, but you still weren't sure how the trick worked. "Amateur magician and your host for everything interesting on Capitol TV, and today is certainly no exception. Today, I have a familiar face with me who I know you will all recognize as well, the Victor of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games, Miss Y/N Y/L/N." He looks over at you and you keep your eyes on him, certain that all cameras are watching you now.

"Y/N, I am so happy to have you back. How have you been?" Lucky asks you and you're already fighting off the need to fidget with your hands.

"I am very well." You smile at him. "How about yourself? It has been a while."

"I'm great, thank you! You know, I was not allowed to bet on the games, but anyone who was there can tell you that I predicted your win from the beginning. You certainly are something else."

"Oh, well thank you." You giggle. "Though, I can't fully be credited for my win. I have to thank the sponsors who allowed Coriolanus to send me food and water. That made all the difference in my game."

"Oh, most definitely." He agrees. "But you shouldn't deny your own role in that. Hiding in the vents, that was genius!" Lucky claps. "Truly, that was a jaw-dropping moment for all of us watching. I remember thinking 'wow, how did she think of that?' It was incredible!"

"Yes, well, I saw the grate and knew it was worth a try." You shrug, slightly laughing. "I had nothing to lose."

"Yes, well, I'm dying to know- what have you been up to the last few months? You went back to Twelve, and then what?"

"Oh! Yes, I did. I've been spending time with friends and family, I got a job at the local library, catching up on some reading, that sort of thing." You grin, glancing at Coryo for only a moment and he gestures for you to continue. "I got home and I really realized for the first time how much we should be appreciating everything we have- even out in the Districts where sometimes life is tough, it's key to remember how privileged we are to be alive. The games were truly eye-opening for me."

Coryo gives you a quick nod of approval, and you smile, training your view back on the man across from you.

"Yes, I agree. Live life to the fullest, that's what they say." You just nod at his response. "Which also begs the question, if you were happy back in Twelve, what brought you back to the Capitol?"

Let the lies begin.

"Well," You laugh nervously. "When I was given the opportunity to come here for the games back in July, I was so interested in everything. The people who I got to talk to, the things I got to see, it was all amazing and I was just dying for more."

"So you decided to come study at the university here, is what I've heard."

"Yes, exactly." You grin. "I just think that the Capitol has so much to offer as far as education goes, I am already learning so much and I am having so much fun doing it."

"So really, your focus is just on your education." He prompts you and you nod.

"Definitely, considering the course load I don't have time for much else, but that doesn't really bother me. Like I said, I just want to learn from the greatest minds in the nation. Even the other students, it's amazing! Everyone has earned their spot there and I can see why and all the work they have put in to be there. It's a privilege to study among them, and I am so grateful that I was given this chance."

"You say 'all the work that they put in to be there', but you didn't attend the academy, so how is it that you were admitted?"

"I filled out the same application that all the other students did, I went through all the same testing." You confirm, nodding at him. "Although," You laugh slightly. "I was only given one day to complete it all. I was locked away in my room working on it all night. I hardly had time to blink, it was tough."

"Wow!" Lucky laughs. "One day? I remember when I applied to the university, my application took months to get just right. You must have aced it all."

"I am very proud of the work I did to be admitted, yes." You smile.

"From what I hear, you should be." He agrees. "So, you're really not in it for the sake of making friends."

"Well, I certainly would love to, but it is not my priority." You nod. "But, if any of my classmates are watching, I promise I am good at proofreading and if you need a second set of eyes on your papers, I'm happy to help. I'd also love to have more people to discuss our readings with." You joke, looking into the camera for the first time.

Lucky laughs. "You've heard it here, everyone. Y/N's pitch to make some friends!"

"Yes, I suppose it was." You chuckle, smiling at him.

"Now on the topic of friends while we're getting to know you better," You tilt your head at him while he begins the question, unsure where it is going. "Back home, do you have a boyfriend? Surely he must be missing you."

"No, not at home..." You laugh, catching in the corner of your eye as Coryo shakes his head at you, his face flat of emotion. "I don't have a boyfriend. Again, that's really just not where my priorities lie at the moment. I've... I've had a very busy year, you could say." You explain hesitantly.

"Wow! A beautiful girl like you?" You laugh nervously at his response. "Capitol boys! She's smart, pretty, and single. Just saying." He says, raising his hands.

You knew his job today was to help you, to make you more likable and more normal, to humanize you, but it was still uncomfortable to hear. "Oh, please." You laugh nervously, waving a hand at him. "Like I said, I'm just here to learn. I'm not after anyone's son."

"No? Not even all the handsome boys in your classes? I'm sure there are at least a few." He teases you and your cheeks flush red.

"I wouldn't know, I'm watching the lectures." You shrug jokingly.

Coryo is trying not to lose his mind while you talk about how single you are. Not that you were much of a willing participant, and to be fair he did tell you not to indicate to them that the two of you were together. You technically weren't, if he was being totally fair, but just because it hadn't been said doesn't mean it isn't real. He knew you knew that, though. So why was he getting so mad?

He doesn't even realize how little attention he was paying after that until you're standing up and shaking Lucky's hand. It was over, you'd done everything you could have to ease the minds of scared and angry Capitol parents.

Lucky gives you a quick hug, wishing you good luck in your classes before you're allowed to rejoin Coryo. "Ready to go?" He asks and you nod.

"How did I do?" You ask as you walk out of the studio and into the hall, aiming for the elevator to take you back to ground level.

"Amazing, love. You were perfect." Coryo confirms, still noticeably tense as he walks next to you.

"Are you sure?" You ask as he presses the button to call the car up to your level, unsure since he still hasn't really looked at you.

The door opens and you both step in. "Yes." He tells you again, quickly tapping the door close button.

"Oh, good. I was really nervous..." You laugh slightly as the doors slide shut, and as soon as any light from the hall ceases to enter the elevator his hands are on you and his lips are pressed against yours.

You let out the slightest squeak out of shock, but quickly relax as Coryo rubs familiar small circles on your hips with his thumbs. How he could be so gentle as he backs you into the wall of the elevator you don't know, but you're grateful for it as you hum into his mouth. But still, something was different.

Spending so much time with you only made him want you more. He loved you, he knew that, and someplace deep in the corners of his mind, he had always wanted you in a way he never thought possible when he first fell for you before the games. Now, with you curled up under his sheets almost every night, seeing you step out of the bathroom with damp hair after a shower in pyjamas that don't fit you quite right, he thought about it more than ever. Thoughts of you plagued him more than usual, and the best way to describe the accompanying feeling was guilt. Guilt that he couldn't show you off given the circumstances- at least not yet.

He trails his kisses away from your lips and across your jaw, pulling you tighter against him. "You're so beautiful, my love..." He mumbles into the skin just below your ear, leaving a kiss in his wake that has your head spinning.

You giggle, eyes fluttering open. "What has gotten into you?" You ask, hands sliding up over his chest to rest on his shoulders.

"I can't tell my girlfriend that I think she's gorgeous?" He asks, shaking his head slightly as he looks down into your eyes.

"Oh, so I am your girlfriend." You giggle and he nods, kissing you again.

"Of course you are, and don't forget it." He chuckles, pulling back from you as the elevator stops moving, waiting for the doors to open.

Your skin is flushed down to your chest as the doors slide apart and even though he's not touching you anymore, you can feel the ghost of his hands on you. You look up at him, a lingering smirk still on his face as he looks straight ahead and leads you out of the car.

The phone rang at the time you were eating dinner, and you quickly asked if you could be excused to go answer it. Coryo and Tigris both just nodded at you, but you could still feel their grandmother's eyes burning into your back as you quickly walked away. She still wasn't fond of you, but she tolerated you. For now, that was just enough.

You grab the phone off the receiver as the small round screen flickers to life. "Hello?" You answer, hopeful that it would finally be your family you see on the other side.

You had answered every call that came to the Snow's apartment for weeks, waiting anxiously to hear their voices again.

"Y/N, is that you, honey?"

You gasp with excitement when you get a clear enough view of your ma. "Ma! Hi!" You smile, leaning in a little closer to get a more clear view as the camera on their end begins to adjust. This was likely the first time it was being used.

"Oh, honey, how good it is to see you!" She smiles, and out of nowhere, you feel hot tears welling up in your eyes.

"You too, Ma." You nod, biting into your lower lip. You didn't want to cry so quickly into the call. "How are you? How's everything at home?"

"Same old." She shakes her head with a slight laugh. "I'm much more interested in you- how is everything? How is school? And how is Tybalt settling in? How are you settling in? My goodness, I just have so many questions!"

You laugh, quickly wiping a stray tear. You had told them about all of this in letters, of course, but she just wanted to hear you say it all. "Everything is good. School has been so lovely, Coryo walks me to all my classes and we eat lunch together between. And Tybalt just loves it here! They have a garden on the roof, and I take him up there as often as I can. Tigris won't stop giving him treats either so he couldn't be happier."

You look down at the animal as he brushes against your leg, looking up at you.

"That's amazing. I've been so worried, it's just so good to see your face again. God, we've been missin' you..."

"I miss you too." You agree, careful not to choke on your tears. "How is Len? And have you seen Lucy Gray and the Covey?"

"He's... He's doing alright." Your mother looks off-screen, and you assume he must be there. The look on her face, one of nervousness and hesitation tells you he doesn't want to speak to you. "But Lucy Gray has been around every day, she and Maude Ivory come over and they help me with hanging the laundry and such... It's been good to have them around."

You smile sadly, nodding slightly with the receiver pressed to your ear. You felt bad about that aspect of leaving- you spent as much time as you could before the games helping out around the house, but even in the summer when you came back you weren't much help. Your mother wouldn't let you do dishes all summer, for fear that the sight of a knife might set you off. She knew you came back a different person, and she wasn't taking any risks. All she really allowed you to do was hang laundry and "keep her company" while she did other home chores. But now, she didn't even have that.

"Can I speak to him?" You ask, referring to your brother who you knew was there.

She nods, waving off camera and holding her hand over the wrong part of the phone. "Lennox, come over here. Y/N wants to talk to you."

His response is muffled, but you make out the gist of it. 'I don't want to talk to her'.

"She's your sister, Lennox. You can't ignore her forever."

'If she wants to talk, she should come home.'

Your heart clenches in your chest and you chew your lip. You have to pretend you couldn't hear, but you just felt so horribly guilty. You shouldn't have left, but he doesn't understand you had no choice. He wouldn't be able to understand until you could come home and see him again, likely not until the summer. Coryo had told you to be mindful of what you write in letters and what you say on the phone, it's possible others were listening. The Capitol was always listening.

"He's just a little busy right now, honey." She smiles at you, but you can see right through it. "But tell me about your day! Did you have class?"

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