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viennakarma · 2 months

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Evergreen (he tears me to pieces)

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Your relationship is ending, despite you fighting for it for a while. Maybe it's time to let go.

Word count: 3.7k

Tags: Female reader, established relationship, heartbreak, neglected relationship, fights, cursing, miscommunication, misunderstandings, break up, sad ending (kinda), open ending, not beta read

Relationships: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Notes: this is a bit sad, not gonna lie, but the ending is kinda hopeful (i guess?)

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You didn’t want to believe your relationship had reached a tipping point, but the details were all there. The lack of interest, distance, coldness.

You knew you and Charles were at a complicated point in your relationship. Losing the championship the year before had taken a huge toll on him, even when he tried to pretend it didn’t matter that much.

You were home in Monaco when you came back from shopping and you found Charles dressing up in the closet. You paused.

“Where are you going?” You asked, placing your shopping bag down.

“I’m going out for dinner with the boys,” he said, fixing his curls in front of the mirror.

“Charlie! We had my work dinner to go tonight! Did you forget about it?”

“Shit, baby!” He muttered, turning to you, “I’m so sorry!”

“Can you reschedule with your friends?” You asked, but he shook his head, spraying his cologne.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to you soon!” He reached for his wallet and car keys, “Don’t wait up for me!”

You sat on the bed, stunned. You thought about what you would say when you showed up at your work dinner that was made for the staff to take their partners to meet their colleagues and the work environment.

Alone at the dinner while everyone introduced their partners, you stayed only enough to not be considered rude and tried to not cry the whole drive back home.

Charles had not arrived yet when you went to bed, and you allowed yourself to shed a couple of tears before forcing yourself to sleep.

That was a bad day. Charles had crashed his car during the formation lap and you watched it with a heavy heart as he was out of the race and walking completely lost on his way back to the garage.

You waited for him to finish his press duties and after the race started, you went to meet him in his driver’s room. He was sitting on the sofa, a dreadful look on his face.

“Baby, how are you?” You whispered, kneeling beside him.

“How does it look?” He said, sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, that was stupid.” You frowned at your own silliness.

“Really stupid,” he mumbled. You swallowed, thinking he was just having a bad day.

“Can I do something for you?” You asked again, but he rolled his eyes.

“How about you leave me the fuck alone?!” He didn’t raise his voice too much, but the aggression was in his tone, in his coldness, like he was fed up with your existence.

You only nodded, ignoring the flaring pain in your chest as you silently left his room.

The lump in your throat didn’t bother too much as you sat down in the hospitality and watched what was left of the race. You stayed aimlessly around until way past the race ended, thinking about when it was finally time to go back to the hotel. You knew the debriefing meetings were usually longer after messed up races, so when you went back to the garage to look for Charles, you realized his bags weren’t in his room and the staff was disassembling everything and packing it up to leave.

You walked to the parking lot and noticed Charles’ car wasn’t there anymore. Back at the motorhome, you reached for your phone and tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. You were getting nervous every minute you passed alone there.

Like a forgotten clown.

“Hey! Are you ok?” You jumped hearing the voice behind you. It was Carlos, your boyfriend’s teammate and close friend.

“Yeah, um-” you stumbled on the words, because how the fuck would you tell Carlos that your boyfriend had left you behind, “I can’t reach Charles, and he left probably thinking I left earlier today.”

“Come on, I can give you a ride,” Carlos shook his keychain, pointing toward the parking lot.

“Thank you,” you managed to squeeze out.

As Carlos drove in silence, only the radio on softly, you tried not to think, because thinking would make you cry. And you didn’t want to cry in front of Carlos. As a sad song started, a single tear escaped, and you quietly wiped it, wishing Carlos was too focused on driving to notice. But as he stopped in front of the hotel, he offered you a tissue from the glovebox, which made two more tears come down before you could stop yourself.

“Thank you for the ride,” you said, and he just nodded.

“Anytime,” he said softly.

You were grateful he didn’t ask a single thing, nor tried to comfort you.

When you got into the hotel room, Charles was fast asleep, so you just got under the shower and cried with a hand on your mouth to muffle your cries.

You were finishing up your makeup when Charles got home on a random Saturday that he didn’t have work, and you two were home.

As you finished gluing eyelashes, Charles stood behind you with both hands on your hips.

“Aren’t you too formal for dinner at my mum’s?” He asked.

“I have a work gala tonight, Charles,” you said, impatiently, and moving away so his hands just slid off you.

“Why wasn’t I invited?” He pouted.

“You were,” you opened the lipgloss, applying to your lips, “you just forgot. Again.”

You didn’t look at him to see his expression drop. It was always like this, you were the last thing on his list of priorities. When he had work functions, you were always there for him, making do with your own time and commitments, squeezing him in so you’d never leave when he needed you. Unfortunately he never reciprocated you. Your friends didn’t matter, dinner with your family was optional and your work events, he didn’t even bother to go.

“You should’ve reminded me again.”

“I did. Two nights ago on the plane when we were flying back.”

“I can call my mom, reschedule our-” he started but your scoff cut him off.

“Don’t bother,” you shrugged.

“Amour-” He tried but you just shook your head.

“Just don’t, Charles,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing your clutch, “I don’t want to be late for the gala.”

Despite the sour beginning, the night was actually nice, you caught up with most of your colleagues, and sadly your boss announced she was going to retire. The night had a small award ceremony too, to celebrate the success of the year. Which ended up with you getting an award for your achievements during the year, and with a beautiful speech from your soon to be ex-boss, she announced that you were getting the promotion for the position of editor in chief, which was pretty much your dream job.

The night was one of the happiest of the year, and you only got home past two in the morning, after enjoying the company and celebrating your promotion. Charles was asleep as you placed your award, a symbolic trophy, on the living room bookshelf.

Charles never asked about the gala, and you didn’t waste any time trying to tell him, since he clearly didn’t give two fucks about your career.

When you went to the next race week hand in hand with Charles, you met Max Verstappen and Sebastian Vettel, who were chatting. You and Charles greeted the both of them. Sebastian who you knew from his time as Charles’ teammate and Max who you knew ever since you were a teen karting for fun. You knew Max just as long as you knew Charles.

“I heard about your promotion! Congratulations!” Max said with a smile. You accepted his handshake with a tender smile. But at the same time, you felt the sudden hold of Charles on your hip.

“Oh, thank you!”

“Really?! Congratulations, Y/N!” Sebastian added.

“She’s always wanted to be editor in chief!” Max pointed out, “She was always talking about it when we were like fifteen!”

You smiled softly, remembering that when you were a teen, you were obsessed with 13 going on 30, and you were very vocal about your dream of working on a fashion magazine.

“I’m glad you achieved the dream then!” Sebastian said with great kindness to you.

Charles tapped your hip twice, and you knew the signal when you had to go.

“Thank you guys, thanks! Charles and I have to go, but see you around!” You and Charles waved at them and walked off.

Charles took your hand and, in long strides, led you inside only stopping when you were in a meeting room.

“You got a promotion?! Why didn’t you tell me that?” Charles said, suddenly upset.

“I guess it just slipped my mind,” you shrugged.

“This was your greatest dream! When did it happen?” He asked, looking hurt.

“At the gala you missed,” you sounded unbothered by his sudden outburst of hurt.

“And how did they know?!” He pointed a finger outside.

“From my instagram, I guess. I made a post about it,” you dismissed Charles, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t seen your post, going to sit down and sip some coffee, “I don’t understand why you’re using that tone with me.”

“Because you should’ve told me!” He raised his voice.

“I just don’t see why, my career never really mattered to you, why would it matter now?!” You said, and the more calmly you talked, the angrier he got.

“You got to be fucking kidding me, right?” He shouted.

“Look, you need to chill. I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but I’m going to take a stroll around. See you in a bit. Hopefully you will have calmed down.” You stood up, leaving his room without letting him say anything else.

Despite getting calm between you and Charles, the distance only seemed to grow, and the only thing keeping you hung onto the love you felt for him were the memories of your five year relationship. You had to do something if you wanted to save your relationship with Charles.

Your fifth year anniversary happened in a day Charles was busy, but sent you flowers, and texted you a sweet message in video. It made you invigorated, and you planned to go all out on the weekend, when Charles was going to come home.

So you planned dinner with a cake, and a romantic getaway after checking his schedule and making sure you could make a quick trip to a very romantic and secluded villa in Positano. You also dressed in very sexy lingerie, and got yourself really pretty to wait for him. So you had everything planned. Dinner at 8, maybe a little love making after, and then you’d drive to Nice to get on the plane at midnight and take off to Italy.

You had told him to come home as soon as he got to Monaco, because you had an anniversary surprise for him. You texted him twice during the day to remind him.

But when the clock hit 8 in the night, the time you had told him to come home, a dreadful feeling placed in the pit of your stomach. He wouldn’t stand you up, would he? 8:17 you texted him a couple of times, but he didn’t read the text. 8:42 you removed the lamb from the oven, setting it on the table. 9:58 Joris texted you talking about how Charles had met the boys and they went out for a drink that turned into a few drinks.

Your face was wet with tears as you packed the food and placed it in the fridge, then washed your face of the make up and changed out of the lingerie. You were unpacking the two bags you’d take on the getaway, when you stared at the silly romantic tickets you had made over the week to symbolically gift him the romantic getaway. You stopped unpacking the bags, changing into a comfortable attire then taking only your bag and driving to Nice.

You turned your phone off and went to Positano alone.

The couple of days you spent only with yourself were good, even though you were crying a lot, feeling abandoned, forgotten and lonely in your relationship. You and Charles had been in a relationship for so long during your early adulthood, and you knew each other ever since you were preteens. It was painful watching life taking you and Charles apart even being so close.

It was weird, you thought you had gotten over the toughest years of your relationship. The year you started dating you were living in another country to attend university, and that had been very difficult to your relationship, but still, you managed.

You mourned the loss of that Charles. The Charles that would align both of your schedules so he wouldn’t miss anything important for you. The Charles that would send you random texts with pictures of things that reminded him of you. The Charles that cared, that asked, that communicated. This Charles was different, you two had grown into people with different goals in life. He wasn’t the same, but you also weren’t the same. Your priorities didn’t align anymore, that was a tough pill to swallow.

But you did.

You went back home again two days later, tanned and tranquil, with your mind made up about asking Charles for a break.

But as you entered the apartment, Charles ran into your arms.

“I’m so sorry, my love! So sorry I forgot about our plans! I was so worried about you!” He kissed your cheek, and you smiled politely, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I made a reservation at your favorite restaurant tomorrow night!”

“Charles,” you tried to come up with words, you were so tired, “I’ve got work this week.”

“Yeah, but you leave work at five? And our reservation is only at seven!” He asked, “Please, baby? Let me make it up to you.”

You were so tired of trying to hold on to something that was slipping through your fingers for months now, you didn’t feel any spark at his promising invite. But since he wanted to put in the effort, you would try again at least this once. If you couldn’t find the spark again until the end of the night, you’d have to let go.

So that’s how you ended up changing and putting makeup on at work, in your office. You’d meet Charles straight there since you had to catch up with work.

You had a gut feeling when you got to the restaurant, asking about the reservation under Leclerc. When the hostess took you to your table and you saw that Charles wasn’t there, you hoped and prayed he was coming.

Nursing a glass of wine, you just stared at the empty seat across from you. Your heart finally, fully sinking into the dark deep sea of this relationship. You felt like you’d been swimming against the tide, trying so hard to be the old you, with the old Charles. But this mourning of your relationship was happening inside of you for months now.

You had to let go.

Charles was 47 minutes late when you paid for the wine and got up, grabbed your coat and left.

You were waiting for the valet to bring your car, when Charles finally showed up, quickly talking to the other valet. Your boyfriend was flushed in the face and had very obviously rushed there. It took him a second to notice you standing outside.

“Amour! What are you-” he paused, seeing the quietness in your face and the lit up cigarette between your fingers, “why are you smoking?”

“That’s the first thing you tell me?!” You scoffed. He finally noticed that you were waiting, dressed in your coat.

“Are you leaving?” He asked, confused.

“Yes, my boyfriend stood me up, can you believe that?!” You said, sarcastically.

“But I’m here, amour. Admittedly, a little late but-” he tried to say.

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head, with a smirk, “my boyfriend was late. My ex-boyfriend is here.”

“Amour, no, please just-”

“Save it, Charles. It’s time to let go,” you said and briefly thanked the valet as he brought your car out, “I’ll go to your flat tomorrow, pick my stuff and leave the keys.”

“Please, don’t do this. Don’t do this to us,” Charles was teary eyed but you were unmoved. You quietly took a drag, then turned your face to puff the smoke to the other side.

“Us is done for a long time, and I’ve been trying to save it for a while but I’m tired now.”

“Can we talk? Tomorrow?”

“You won’t be here tomorrow, Charles. You’ll probably be doing any of the hundred things that are more important than your girlfriend,” you got into the car and drove away. Charles could see you didn’t want to talk, and maybe it was better to let you cool off for a moment.

He couldn’t believe how cold and detached you were being, the nonchalance in your tone, the finality of it all. Yes, he had messed up a few times, but not to the point of losing you. Right?

You ignored his messages and calls as you spent the next 24 hours in a hotel, only leaving to go to work and back. You had told Charles you were going to pick up your stuff, but you decided to do that two days later, when you knew he wouldn’t be there, traveling for his sponsor's commitments.

But when you got there, Charles was there, looking like he had barely slept.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Italy?” You asked, bringing a couple of cardboard boxes inside.

“I canceled. Was waiting for you.” He said, low.

You felt like the lump in your throat was going to suffocate you any moment, because that’s what you wanted. You wanted him to put you first once, to care for your career a little bit, to make you a priority. But you wanted that earlier.

“You didn’t need to,” you said and swallowed, starting to pick up your books from the bookshelf, placing them in the box.

“You’re what matters the most,” he said, walking up to you.

“Bit late for that, Charles,” you scoffed. You couldn’t help but feel angry and act petty when you had been begging for his attention for almost a year now.

“Please, talk to me, Amour. Tell me.” He begged, taking your hands from the books, pulling you to pay attention to him. You snapped, pulling your hands from his.

“Did you cheat on me?” You asked, suddenly, because the possibility had been roaming your mind for a while now. It would certainly explain his distance, his misplaced priorities.

“What? What kind of question is that?” He looked so offended.

“Yes or no, Charles. It’s a simple question.”

“No, I would never cheat on you!”

You sighed. Old you would’ve believed him. Present you… weren’t sure. But then, it didn’t matter if he did it or not, anyway you broke up already.

“Talk to me!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” You shouted, taking a step back.

“What is going on! What you are feeling! Why are you leaving me?!” He was just as loud.

“Our relationship has been ending for a while now, are you fucking blind?! I’m alone in this! I love you alone. I cherish you alone. I fucking try alone! You don’t have the time for us, and you don’t even try to pay attention to me! You forgot me in the paddock a month ago, and you didn’t even know because you never asked! You missed the gala where I got a promotion, my greatest accomplishment! You missed our anniversary celebration! And when you promised to make it up to me, you stood me up! I’m tired, I feel like you’re suffocating us to death with your bare hands!”

“I didn’t realize you we-”

“Of course, you didn’t! You only care about yourself, Charles.”

“I take responsibility for my actions, yes. I’m so sorry I made you go through all that! But I can fix it!” He said, pleading.

“I don’t believe you anymore,” you said, voice soft and sad, “Who says I won’t get my hopes high only to be met with disappointment again later on?”

“I’m saying!”

“You’ve said that before, I’ll make it up to you, It won’t happen again, We’ll reschedule, I’m done with your excuses, Charles.”

“You don’t love me anymore? Is that it?”

“Stop, Charles. You’re being unfair.”

“Yes or no?” He pressed further.

“I don’t know!” You shouted, exasperated, “I don’t know. My love took many hits over this year.”

“So this is it?” Charles opened his arms, flailing them around, “we’re done?”

“Yes. It’s for the best,” You finally said. Weirdly, you probably made peace with the fact your relationship was ending when you were crying alone in Positano.

It washed you with a surprising sense of relief, like a weight lifted from your shoulders. You probably had been emotionally checking out for a while. His absences and the coldness had been taking such a toll on you and your mental health, that the prospect of not having to deal with it anymore made you feel at peace.

That, or you were still numb after a rollercoaster of emotions.

“No, I don’t want it, I love you. So much.” he shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

A tiny part of you still wanted to comfort him, to hug him and say he’d be fine in the end. But nobody offered you the same kindness. Charles would have friends and family supporting him. You couldn’t do that. Not when he had caused you so much pain, constantly.

“I’ll, um-” you paused, putting the books back, “I’ll go. I can come back another time, when you’re not home. It will be better this way.”

You started walking to the door, but Charles intercepted you, blocking your path. His eyes were red, cheeks wet, and he looked absolutely hopeless.

“Please, let me try! Is there something I can do to change your mind?” He begged.

“No,” you dodged him, going to the door.

You left, without looking back. And despite the pain of ending something that at some point was so beautiful and such a source of happiness, the day was sunny and beautiful, and something in the way it warmed your face told you that you’d be alright.

NOTE: I'm considering writing part 2 with reader moving on, and as I'm feeling petty, I want her to move on to another driver, teehee. Opinions on which driver?

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #Spotify

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kaleldobrev · 7 months

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A Small Favor In Return

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Reader

Summary: Finding out you’re dating Soldier Boy, your graduate school professor asks you for a small favor. When you tell Ben about it he agrees (much to your surprise) but the only way he’ll do it is if you do a small favor for him in return.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Cursing (20x), Fluff, Drug Use, Smut (Fingering, Oral - M&F receiving, Anal), Use of handcuffs & blindfolds

Authors Note: So this came out a lot longer than I thought it would but I’m happy with the way this came out | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

"Alright class, as a quick reminder, your ten-page essays on World War Two are due next Tuesday," your professor said, audible groans came from a majority of your peers, and you couldn't help but snicker at their response. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, I know. I'm such a horrible person for assigning a ten-page paper in graduate school," his tone sarcastic. "But, I may have something special for you all on Tuesday," your peers suddenly all got quiet in anticipation of the news as there was a certain air of excitement. With a quick clap of his hands he said, "But! I'm not telling you now, you have to wait till Tuesday!" More groans. "Get on out of here and see you all next Tuesday! Y/N, can I talk to you before you head out?" Your professor asked as students started filing out of the room.

You looked up at him and gave a small smile. “Sure thing,” you said as you placed your laptop and textbook into your backpack.

Your friend turned to you once she was finished putting her own things into her backpack. “Want me to wait up for you?” She asked, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and standing up.

“No it’s okay,” you stated as you got up from your own chair, holding the straps of your backpack firmly in both of your hands, “I actually have to get home right after this.”

Your friend gave you a smirk. “Date night?”

“Something like that,” you gave her a wink.

“Okay, I wanna hear all about it tomorrow,” she gave you a wink before she made her way out of the classroom.

Walking over to your professor he started placing his papers that he had had on his desk into his briefcase. “You wanted to talk to me Professor?” You asked.

Your professor looked up and stopped what he was doing and gave you a small smile. “Yes, I was hoping I could ask for a favor.”

“A favor?” You gave him a slightly confused expression.

"As you know, I'm not usually one for gossip but, I wanted to know..." he began, clearly hesitant; but you already knew where this was going.

"If I'm actually dating Soldier Boy," you stated bluntly, your tone coming off slightly annoyed. "And the answer is yes," although it's none of your business, you had wanted to add. “I don’t mean to sound rude professor but, what does me dating Be—Soldier Boy, have to do with your favor?”

“Well,” he sounded so nervous, and you had almost felt bad giving him slight attitude — almost. But at the same time, you were getting tired of constantly being asked if it were true that you were dating America’s oldest Supe, as it was usually one of the first things you were almost always asked besides what your name was. “I was hoping that maybe you could ask him if he would be willing to come and talk to the class next Tuesday about his experiences during World War Two and maybe answer some peer questions.”

Your eyes went wide, and you had to actually hold back a laugh at your professors request as there were two major problems with it. The first: as much as Ben loved you (and that man loved you more than he’ll ever admit), the last thing he’d want to do was spend his time talking in front of your college classmates about his experiences during World War Two and answering questions. The second: the man never saw actual battle — it was all fabricated by Vought as a part of a marketing campaign because that’s who his character was. “Umm…” you didn’t know what to say, but you were proud of yourself for not laughing at least. “I think he might be busy that day but I can ask.”

Your professor seemed happy with your answer as he smiled. “Thanks Y/N I really appreciate it,” he said closing his briefcase

You fumbled with your keys as you went to unlock the door of yours and Ben’s shared apartment, but as you reached for the doorknob, you were a little surprised to see that it was unlocked. Odd, you thought. “Are you going to come in or just stand there in the hallway?” You heard Ben call out faintly from behind the door.

A part of you wanted to ask how he knew you were standing there but you knew better than to ask. Damn that super hearing of his, you thought. “Yeah I’m coming in,” you called out opening the door. “Um, why was the door unlocked?”

“It’s 4:30, your class ends at 4,” he said, the sounds of pounding coming from the kitchen — sounds that you assumed where of him using the handle of his hunting knife to crush pills on the wooden dining room table that your grandmother had given the two of you when you moved in. It was the one piece of furniture you had told him repeatedly not to crush his pills on. “I know it takes you half an hour to come home so I thought I’d be nice and actually have the door unlocked for you when you got home.” Your lips turned into a smile at the thoughtful gesture. “Plus, I hate hearing you fumbling with your keys.”

As you walked into the kitchen you saw that your suspicions were correct: Ben was crushing his bennies with the handle of his hunting knife on the wooden dining room table that your grandmother had given you. A piece of furniture that was probably the same age as your boyfriend. "It was a very nice gesture Ben thank you," you said, and gave him a kiss on the cheek before you stood behind him wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your chin on his shoulder.

He smirked and started using the blade to make his neat little lines. "What do I get for it?" He asked.

You wanted to roll your eyes. Did this man really want something for doing a nice and decent thing? "Did you want a medal? Or maybe one of those gold star good job stickers?" You asked, your tone sarcastic.

He let out a small chuckle. "No, but a blowjob wouldn't hurt," he smirked again. "Then again, you could give me one regardless if I open the door for you or not because I know how much you love my dick," he smirked.

"And you could not crush your pills on my grandmothers dining room table but we can't always have what we want Sweetie," you gave him another quick peck on the cheek before taking a spot in the chair across from him.

After snorting a line Ben looked at you as he wiped the excess powder from his nose. "What crawled up your ass today Princess? Cause it sure wasn't me," he said, his own tone sounding slightly annoyed.

You took a deep sigh. "I'm sorry I'm just...my professor asked me for a favor," you began.

"It wasn't a sexual favor was it?" He asked, and you just wanted to roll your eyes again, hating that that was the first thing he had thought of. "Cause if it was I have two questions. One, did you kick the guy in the balls, and two, do I need to kick the guy in the balls for you?"

“I’m just going to ignore that and —”

“What? It’s a valid fucking question,” he stated, his hunting knife slightly swinging around.

You rolled your eyes slightly. “Put your knife down before you hurt yourself,” he scoffed, “second, no, it wasn’t a sexual favor Ben, please get your mind out of the gutter even though I know that’s where it basically lives.” He smirked at your comment. “My professor asked me if you could come and speak in front of my class next Tuesday about your experiences during World War Two and answer some questions.”

You sounded silly asking your boyfriend this favor, because you already knew what his answer was going to be. He was going to laugh and say ‘as much as I love you that’s a hard pass.’ “Sure,” Ben said, “but you have to do something for me first.” You looked at him like you were a deer headlights, actually shocked that he had said yes. “You seem surprised Sweetheart.”

“Yeah…I am actually,” your voice a little hesitant sounding. “I uh, I genuinely thought you’d say no.” You let out a slightly nervous chuckle. “What’s the favor?”

“Unlike your professors favor mine is a sexual one,” he smirked.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” you grinned. “So, what’s the favor?”

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” you stated, “you know how I feel about blindfolds.” You heard him chuckle a little. You didn’t need to see his face to know the way he was looking at you right now. You were completely naked lying on your back, your hands were handcuffed to the headboard and you were blindfolded. The only part of your body that was free to move around were your legs. This wasn’t an unusual position for you to be in as you and Ben did use handcuffs during sex on the regular, but the blindfold was a new addition as of today.

“Sweetheart the only reason you don’t like blindfolds is because you hate surprises,” which was true, and you could hear a slight attitude in his tone. “You know my usual moves, shouldn’t be that surprising.”

You let out a little laugh. “To be fair, you do look at some weird porn so I wouldn’t be surprised if you found something new you had wanted to try out.”

He scoffed, sounding slightly offended. “I don’t look at weird porn. The porn being made now is fucking weird,” he stated. “Back in my day it wasn’t all this fancy shit and storylines. People just fucked in pornos.”

Thank goodness you had your blindfold on because of the intense eye rolling you just did at his comment. “But I thought you liked a good storyline Ben,” you slightly teased.

“In movies, not in pornos,” he clarified.

“Technically a porno is a movie,” your voice with a slight air of sass to it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled under his breath. “Don’t make me use a gag on you Sweetheart.”

You started grinning. “Wouldn’t be the first time!” Your voice almost sing song. “So are we actually going to have sex or are you just going to talk my ear off all night?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “You’re the one being mouthy right now, not me.”

“I’m not the one talking about porno—” before you could finish your statement, you felt the bed dip, one hand was on each thigh spreading your legs apart slightly aggressive (which was considered gentle in his eyes). Nothing happened as you were waiting for him to do something, anything. You knew he was still there as you could still felt the grip he had on your thighs. “Ben?” You asked, a little confusion in your voice.

“What did I say about having a little patience?” He said, his question rhetorical. When it came to sex with Ben you were far from patient (and to be fair, he was far from patient too), but the two of you had tried to be patient with each other in your sex life just as much as you tried to be patient with each other out of the bedroom. All things considered, Ben’s patience had grown since the time you had known him, but there were times when you knew you pushed his buttons just a little too far (which may or may not be on purpose).

“Sorry,” you said, not really meaning it.

“I know you don’t mean it, but I’ll pretend you did,” he stated. “Now,” he began, his arms going underneath your thighs as your legs went over his shoulders, “don’t you dare fucking move,” his tone controlling, but you loved whenever he used this voice; there was just something about it that turned you on like nothing else. To be fair though, you did love his voice in general.

“Okay,” you said, slightly bracing yourself.

“That’s not really the answer I’m going for Princess,” he stated.

“Yes, Sir,” you said, making sure you really emphasized the word.

“That’s better,” you could hear the smirk on his lips. He started kissing your inner thighs, slightly nipping at the skin. The kisses on your inner thighs lasted longer than usual, and you were surprised it lasted this long as he was usually the impatient one when it came to wanting to go down on you. Without any kind of warning he licked a long strip on your clit and you let out a low moan. You felt the urge to arch your back. “Remember don’t fucking move,” he repeated, using the same controlling tone as he did before.

“Yes Sir,” you reply automatic.

With another long and slow lick he started to actually eat you out now like he normally did, and now, you were really fighting the urge to arch your back. Your hands gently moved against the handcuffs, wanting to run your fingers through his hair as you normally did. You felt a small chuckle against your pussy as he knew how hard it was for you not to touch him and to barely move. As much as he loved how responsive you got because of him, he wanted to challenge you not to move — he knew it was going to be hard for you for sure. “Ben, shit,” you moaned, his tongue starting to move in circles on your folds before he delved his tongue inside you.

As if your moan was an encouragement, he took one of his fingers and started circling your clit, adding that extra layer of pleasure. Letting out yet another moan he removed his tongue and replaced it with his two fingers as he started pumping them in and out of you. You wanted to protest at the loss of his mouth but were thankful he replaced that loss so quickly. “How you doin’ Princess?” He asked as he felt you starting to clench around his fingers, causing him to smirk.

“I’m close,” your answer barely audible. He started to pick up the pace slightly with his fingers, and you knew you weren’t going to make it much longer. Removing his fingers, he replaced it with his tongue. Again, you had wanted to arch, but you were really trying not to, but you felt your body wanting to betray you. You started to arch your back slowly, almost automatic and a firm hand was on your stomach.

“What did I say?” His voice just as firm as his hand.

“Fuck, Ben…” you moaned, and you wanted to continue to try and arch but you couldn’t — thankful that your boyfriend did have the strength that he did as he was able to keep you from arching. With the one hand he did have free he placed two fingers back inside of you and started moving them in and out of you at a slightly rapid pace. You clenched around him, and you felt the smirk on his lips. He heard your heart starting to pick up and he knew that you were close. With a few more pumps of his fingers and a few more circles from his tongue you came around his tongue and fingers. As you came, your words started to blend together, not even sounding like remotely anything — mainly gibberish.

Coming down from your orgasm, he removed himself from you and you heard him licking his fingers, a small pop coming from his lips. “Always so fucking sweet,” he commented, slightly amused.

“And this is why I always eat fruit,” you said, almost too proudly. “And reasons why I convinced you too.”

Ben was happy that you had the blindfold on as he gave one of the biggest eye-rolls. “You didn’t…convince me,” he said, knowing that he was lying, as you were the one that did convince him.

“Okay Ben, whatever you say,” your voice going back to that sing song like tone that he secretly loved.

“Ready for me to remove the blindfold Sweetheart?” He asked as he positioned himself between your thighs, still fully clothed.

You nodded your head. “Yes please.” You wanted this blindfold off more than anything. As you felt his hand touch your face to remove the blindfold, his hand wasn’t there just as quick and you frowned. “Ben?”

“I’ll remove it on one condition,” he began. “I went down on you, you do the same for me.”

“I kind of need to see to suck you off Sweetheart,” you commented.

“Hmmm, not unless I fuck that throat of yours you don’t,” the smirk on his voice returning.

“Fuck me,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Later Princess,” you knew he winked. “Besides, you like when I fuck your throat. What did you say the other day about it? Oh yeah, you said it practically makes you cum.” You hated that he was using your words against you, because that’s exactly how you felt about it. The way he did it was slightly rough, but it was also weirdly gentle at the same time.

“Christ on a Cross,” you mumbled.

A chuckle left him. “That’s my line,” he replied. “Alright Sweetheart, open that pretty mouth of yours.”

With some slight hesitation you opened up your mouth and waited for his cock to enter your mouth. The sounds of his pants and boxers fell to the floor. “You ready?” He asked, his hand moving up and down the length of his cock to slightly prep.

“Yes Sir,” you responded. You felt the tip of his cock on your lips, a slight feeling of pre-cum on them. He started moving his cock between your lips and you started tasting the pre-cum on your tongue now. A part of Ben wished you were able to fit his entire length inside of your mouth like your pussy did, but he absolutely loved the sight of you being blindfolded as you took him — he felt himself starting to get harder at the thought.

“You always take my cock so well,” he slightly praised, knowing how much you adored being praised. His hand found it’s way in your hair as he started messing it up (he always thought you were sexier with messed up hair — although he found you gorgeous and sexy no matter what you looked like). Once praising you and satisfied with your slightly messed up hair he started moving his cock in and out of your throat as your tongue started licking him as he did so. You loved the feeling of him fucking your throat but at the same time you loved being able to use your hands as you had the ability to do just a bit more — but you knew having your hands restrained made him feel a little bit more in control, something you were willing to give up once in a while during sex.

His pace started to pick up a bit more, and it was a tad aggressive (not that you minded of course). His hand started playing with your hair and you felt yourself starting to get wet. You started to rub your thighs together, trying to get some sort of release as his cock moved in and out of your mouth. “You wet Sweetheart?” He asked, already knowing the answer. He moved his free hand and a finger dipped ever so slightly into your now soaked pussy. “This really does do it for you huh?” He mused.

He started playing with your clit now lazily with two fingers as he was still too focused of the feeling of your mouth and tongue working his cock like the pro he knew you were. He shut his eyes and removed his fingers so he could bring you to your side more, giving him a better angle. Your tongue worked circles around his cock, and he was starting to miss the handwork you usually do whenever you sucked him off. He placed his fingers on your clit again, and then dipped two fingers inside of you again, moving lazily. Despite it being lazy, the feeling was just enough that you had felt like you were about to cum just like he was about to. “Fuck Sweetheart,” he moaned out. He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, slightly throwing his head back as he started to release himself down the back of your throat. Midway through, his fingers went a tad faster and you felt your own orgasm coming to you now. Moaning into his cock you came around his fingers again. “Christ,” he almost sounded impressed.

Removing his cock from your mouth and his fingers from your pussy, you started to breath just a tad heavier as you weren’t expecting another orgasm so soon. Your pussy was sensitive and you weren’t remotely sure if you could handle another orgasm.

You felt his hand on the side of your head as he started removing the blindfold from your eyes. As he removed it, he had the biggest smile on his face. You gave him the same kind of smile back, happy to finally be seeing his face. “Hey,” you said, your voice a little breathy sounding.

“Hey,” he responded back, tossing the blindfold onto the floor. He placed his hand on your thigh, gently rubbing it with his thumb. “As much as I wanna wreck that pussy of yours, I know how sensitive it is right now,” he said, and you couldn’t believe how logical he was sounding right now. You simply just nodded in agreement. “So I’m gonna wreck this pretty ass of yours first.” Anal was something that you never really did before with Ben, as you felt that he was probably going to be too big for you. The closest you’ve ever gotten was him using his fingers and tongue on occasion.

“Babe, I don’t think your dick is going to fit in my ass,” you stated.

A grin formed on his lips, “We’ll see about that.”

You were now lying on your stomach, the handcuffs no longer on your wrists, but your arms were underneath a pillow; your face slightly buried in it. “Just relax,” Ben said, his hand smoothing over your ass. “I’ve done this before.”

“Not with me you haven’t!” You exclaimed.

“If you’re that freaked out we don’t have to do it.” His tone was calm.

“I’m not…freaked out it’s just…I’m nervous,” you mumbled the last few words.

“Aw Sweetheart,” he placed a few kisses along your spine, “you know I always take good care of you right?”

You nodded. “I know. I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose Ben.”

“Exactly, cause consent and all that,” he said. You had wanted to laugh a little at his comment, proud that he even mentioned the word consent — as consent was something that he had a very hard grasping when you had first met him. “Alright,” Ben started to spread your cheeks apart and you felt the tip of his cock against you. You felt your body start to tense up and you knew he could feel it too. “You gotta relax for me Y/N,” you couldn’t believe how calm his voice sounded right now, all of a sudden there seemed to be so much patience with him. You felt more kisses along your spine and they felt almost comforting. The tip of his cock started to enter you now, and you couldn’t help but be tense. It was a new kind of pressure and sensation that you weren’t really used to. Yes, you and Ben had done things involving your ass before but this was a new level to it.

“Fuckkk,” you breathed out, and you weren’t sure if it was a pleasure sound or an uncomfortable one. You shut your eyes and buried your face into the pillow, your voice sounding muffled now.

“Doing so well Sweetheart,” he praised, the feeling of his cock getting deeper and deeper inside of you. “I think I’m gonna fit just fine.” You didn’t like the sound of ‘I think.’

There was a slight pressure inside of you, and it was a much different kind of fullness than what you were used to. He somehow managed to fit himself completely inside of you and you knew he was extremely giddy about it (a word that you wouldn’t normally use to describe your boyfriend). “How do you feel?” He asked, seeming concerned.

“Great. Fucking fantastic,” you said, your voice slightly radiating sarcasm.

Giving your ass a small smack you let out a tiny sounding yelp, and you felt part of his body on top of your back now. He kissed your neck and leaned into your ear. “Love taking you from behind Sweetheart,” he whispered, placing a small kiss on your shoulder and nipping at it gently. You let out a small moan, closing your eyes at the contact. “Ready?” He asked, and you nodded. “Good,” he kissed your lips quickly before adjusting himself back behind you again as he started moving his dick in and out of your ass.

It was a weird kind of pressure, but also a strangely pleasurable one. You couldn’t help but let out moan after moan and some random gibberish sounding curse words. He didn’t pull himself completely out of you, but he went half way and that was just enough for you. You already felt so full with his very above average cock inside of you, you couldn’t imagine what it would feel like once he came inside.

You bit the pillow as one of his hands splayed across your spine holding you down in place on the bed. “What a fucking view,” he slightly mumbled, “and the sounds you’re making, woo.” He couldn’t help himself but give your ass yet another smack. You were thankful he wasn’t doing it constantly as you knew you wouldn’t have been able to sit down afterward (a feeling that you were relatively used to).

You weren’t sure if you were actually going to cum or not, but you knew that he was at least going to. “Ben, fuck,” your words almost inaudible.

“You’re going to look even more beautiful with my cum inside this ass of yours,” he said, and his words actually started making your heart race. “Someone sounds excited about that,” he smirked. With a new more pumps, he started to release himself and you couldn’t help but let out a guttural type of noise that managed to get muffled by the sounds of the pillow.

You stayed on your stomach as Ben found himself lying down next to you on his back, the biggest grin on his face. You felt exhausted, and wished you had the kind of stamina your boyfriend had. You turned to face each other and he kissed your forehead. “What?” You asked, your voice sounding a little weak.

“Ready for my cock Sweetheart?” He asked, no hint of tiredness in his voice.

“Ben, I don’t have your stamina,” you stated, and you moved your body so your head was now resting on his chest while your legs were intertwined with his. He brought his arms around you, pulling you close.

“I know that,” he said, stating the obvious. His voice sounding a little disappointed.

“Either let me take a little nap or make me a sandwich and I’ll be good to go,” you said, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck and shutting your eyes.

“Your nap will be quicker than me trying to fix you up a sandwich,” he admitted, closing his eyes too.

A Week Later…

“Thank you so much for doing this Mister —”

“You can just call me Ben,” he said, shaking your professors' hand. God his hand is so fucking sweaty, he thought.

“Ben,” your professor nodded. “Of course." Your professor wasn't usually the nervous type, but for some reason when it came to the topic of Soldier Boy he was like some nervous teenager. "I really do appreciate you taking the time to come out and do this really, and uh," your professor pointed at Ben, "coming in your uniform too. I just know the students are going to be really receptive of you."

"It's honestly not a problem," Ben said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"I'm glad, because the way Y/N made it seem last week was that this was something you'd rather not be doing," he let out a nervous chuckle.

"To be fair, I did say he might of been busy," you chimed in, correcting your professors words. "Private contractor and all that," you smiled.

"She's also a wonderful convincer," he smirked. "Aren't you Sweetheart?"

"Yep, I practically have him wrapped around my finger," you grinned, wrapping your arm around his waist and giving him a small squeeze.

"She's funny this one," Ben let out a chuckle — a fake one — but he knew how much you truly did have him wrapped around your fingers, something he never thought a woman would ever be able to do to him. You may not be a Supe, but you did have one superpower, and that power was somehow making him fall in love with you.

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vampcubus · 1 year

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𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐂𝐒

a/n: if this is incomprehensible, its cus i wrote it at like 4am. if you see them getting longer as i go along no you don’t.

⋆ ࣪.❤︎ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒!┊levi, armin, hange, reiner, bertholdt, and porco.

⋆ ࣪.❤︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒!┊mostly sfw, porco's gets suggestive, not proofread we ball.

❥ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

— Levi kisses you like he’ll never get to again — explicitly in private, he’s not a fan of PDA. His lips are always desperate against yours, hands in your hair, around your neck, at your hips, drawing you closer. And when you pull away his lips chase yours, blue-grey eyes half-lidded with that longing look that turns your knees to jelly.

— If you’re taller he isn’t above yanking you down by the shirt collar to crush his lips against yours, if you’re shorter all the easier to tilt your face the way he wants.

— And when you tease him by ghosting your lips over his with a barely there kiss, hand in his hair to keep him from closing the gap — he whines this pitiful whine in the back of his throat, ashen eyes ensnaring yours with a glare, both annoyed and pleading.

“Don’t tease me, you’ll regret it.” he whispers, and when you pull away anyways with a husky laugh he follows up with a breathless “please.”

How can you deny him?

— He’s incredibly weak for those gentle kisses to his temple when he’s hard at work on reports in his office. He almost always catches your sleeve and tilts his jaw up to indicate he wants a real kiss. He can’t help but be greedy with you, your soft lips are like a drug, and he’s become quite the addict.

❥ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐓

— Armin’s kisses are as gentle and thoughtful as he is. He probably plans his whole approach out the very first time he attempts it, but every time you look at him it’s as if his brain turns to mush. He starts to sweat and his throat goes dry, whatever romantic scheme he’d mulled over the night before goes right out the window.

In the end, it’s you that seizes the moment. You squish his cheeks and smush your lips over his, in his surprise he sputters against your lips, his face beet red — which only makes you pull away and burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean — let me try again, please!” he blusters, hands on your shoulders as you try your best to reel in your giggles. He gets this determined look in his eyes and cups your face, the action halting your tremors long enough to give him an opening to slot his lips over yours again. He does so with a little too much enthusiasm and ends up knocking you over, but you only throw your arms around him and sigh against his lips. Finally.

— You’ll get a lot of absent-minded pecks as he passes by you, the forehead, cheek, corner of your lips. Doesn’t matter if he’s focused on devising a plan, idly working on a report, or deep in thought, it’s muscle memory at this point. He especially does so when you’re cooking or cleaning so he doesn’t disturb you too much.

— But it’s not hard to tell your lips are his favorite place to kiss. sometimes he gets distracted and just gazes longingly at you, waiting for you to notice so he can pull you aside and smooch you properly. His favorite kisses are slow, long, and passionate, the kind that makes you forget the world around you. He definitely gets carried away and forgets where you are, only tearing away when you start to hear whistles and jeers from other soldiers.

❥ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐙𝐎𝐄

— Hange’s kisses are as spontaneous and passionate as they are, often a spur-of-the-moment smack of their lips against yours more than anything. Sometimes they just get so excited about their experiments that they could really kiss you, so they do! Granted these are usually fleeting before they go back to babbling about their breakthroughs and theories.

— Since Hange tends to ramble a lot, there are few openings to swoop in for a kiss, which can lead to you just grabbing their face in frustration and shutting them up with your lips. It always works like a charm, their brown eyes wide with surprise before their arms wrap around you and they return your persistent lip lock.

“If you wanted my attention, you could have just said so.” They laugh, breathless as they pull away. Their tone is teasing, but you hardly mind after finally getting the kiss you wanted. Their thumbs brush over your cheeks, drawing your gaze back to theirs as they lean in again, lips a hair away from yours. “I’m not satisfied yet though, we should kiss some more.”

— They smile into kisses a lot, always so smug — but also because you just make them so happy. Especially after assuming the role of commander of the scouts, they’re all but pulling their hair out with all the stress. Your lips are a welcome reprieve, and you can feel them melt into your embrace every time, a wistful sigh against your lips as their worries float away.

— A kiss over their eyepatch gets them a little teary-eyed, hands in your hair to touch your foreheads together. You’ve been through so much together and lost so much. They’re glad to have you by their side to shoulder the weight of the many deaths of your fallen comrades. And now without Moblit, they need you there to be the voice of reason when they go off the deep end.

❥ 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐍

— Reiner’s kisses are devoted and reverent. He kisses you like you’re air he breathes. Like he needs the press of your sweet lips against his to live.

— The type to cry when you kiss — in fact, that’s exactly what he did when you first kissed him. He crumpled against you, dragging you both to your knees as he clung to you, sobbing into your neck when he can bear to part from your lips. He’s yours from that moment on, in disbelief that you’ve chosen him, but nothing could tear him from you now.

— Reiner tends to kiss you super soft like he’s afraid you’ll break — a habit you’ll have to shake him out of by being as forceful and passionate as you like with him. Smash your lips against his, bite his lip; let him know that you’re just as desperate for him as he is for you.

— Reiner becomes incredibly reliant on your kisses. He expects a kiss hello and goodbye, a kiss good morning and goodnight. And if you skimp on them he’ll pull you aside, envelop you with his body so you can’t escape, and attack your face and lips with kisses to make up for it.

— Stop kissing him as often and he’ll think he’s done something wrong, mulling anxiously over it until he starts jumping to conclusions. Maybe he said something wrong? Did he do something to make you angry? What if you were growing bored of him? His overthinking will be his undoing.

— You can tell when Reiner wants a kiss, he gets this tortured look on his face as he stares at you from afar. And when you finally acknowledge him he perks up, sending you one of those flirty grins from his youth, beckoning you closer.

— Chronic hand-kisser, he really can’t help it when you slip your smaller fingers into his own so often. It always compels him to lift your hand to his lips and kiss your knuckles, anything to see you smile at him with that adoring look. It still amazes him that such a look is reserved for him.

❥ 𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

— As expected, Bertholdt’s kisses are shy and hesitant — at first. Your first kiss is pure but electric, a culmination of the tip-toeing you’ve been doing around each other for years. You’re definitely the one who initiates, but it’s Bertholdt that holds you still when you go to pull away, ensnaring you with a murmured “please stay” against your lips that makes you melt.

— That kiss consumes his thoughts — even his dreams after that. It’s like your lips met and everything started to make sense, like the world was more colorful. Wherever you go, you’ll find Bertholdt tailing closely behind like a puppy.

— After being given time to adjust to your affections and enough encouragement to assert his own, his kisses take on a very adoring quality. He cherishes you, almost always smiles into kisses, strokes your hair, cradles your head 🥹

— Bertholdt prefers quick pecks in public, quick n easy to your cheek or forehead.

(however, he starts nosing at your shoulder if he sees someone looking at you a little too long. Bert’s observant and while he trusts you, he can’t help but feel a little insecure sometimes. He thinks highly of you, convinced you’re way out of his league)

— But he likes them slow n long when you’re alone when he can express his love for you without the nerves of having everyone’s prying eyes on him.

— The type to come up behind you while you’re cooking and wrap himself around you, trailing kisses across your neck and shoulder. BACK KISSES!! He’s more confident without the pressure of you looking at him. As soon as you turn around he’s putty again under your gaze, chin tucked to his chest demurely as you wrap your arms around his neck and start your own kiss attacks.

— He can’t help it, your eyes make him weak in the knees. You’re just so pretty… and when you look at him like that…

— He’s so fucking tall though and you might consider carrying around a step stool just so you can kiss him anytime you want (climb him) cus he always looks so kissable. And he gets the cutest blush on his face when you tug at his sleeve and pucker your lips. Bert won’t waste any time pushing your hair back and leaning down to settle his soft lips over yours.

“Stop looking so kissable before I climb you like a tree.” You pout, eyes narrowed as he gives you a weird look, cheeks full of food.

He swallows and leans down to boop his hooked nose against yours affectionately.

“Please don’t.” Please do.

❥ 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐎 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃

— Porco kisses you like he’s got something to prove.

— Makes you wonder what exactly. Is it to prove that he’s better at it than you? No… Porco likes to be the best, but his kisses largely reflect his desperation for you to think he’s the best you can get. He wants to kiss you better than anyone else probably ever could. He burns for you, and it translates so beautifully into the way he’s trying so hard to not let you slip through his fingers. He wants to prove he’s all you’ll ever want. (And he is 🧎‍♀️)

— Porco’s kisses are always passionate, and he can never stop at just one either. Pull away for a moment and he’ll chase your lips. He gets carried away easily, and being in a public setting is rarely a deterrent. He’s not gonna tongue-kiss you in front of the warrior candidates, but that’s as far as his restraint goes I’m afraid. Especially if he's jealous.

— Porco can be held back from brawling every guy that so much as looks your way (barely), but not from pulling you in by the hips to crush your lips against his when he knows they’re looking.

— Neck kiss enthusiast, both giving and receiving. He likes to do it especially to distract/annoy you when you’re focused on chores or not giving him enough attention. And if you’re being especially resilient he will bite you, just to hear you gasp. You’re gonna be walking around with hickeys everywhere I’m so sorry, no use in scolding him. And if you try to cover them up with makeup he takes that as a challenge to give you more.

— Can’t take a dose of his own medicine though, and that’s something you need to abuse. Catch him while he’s doing something important and start pressing the softest kisses to his neck and jaw and watch him melt. And when he reaches for you, pull away and insist he focuses on his task. Drives him crazy. The moment you start using your teeth and sucking on his neck, he crumbles, hands in your hair, pulling at your clothes. He can be so cute sometimes.

— I’d even go so far as to say that he’s a little obsessed with kissing you, and that means it’s the best kind of leverage you have over him. It’s hilarious how offended he gets when you refuse to kiss him when you’re mad at him. Wdym no kisses until he apologizes??? >:0 he acts tough about it like he doesn’t care… for like a day… and then he’s cornering you.

“'m sorry okay? Lemme kiss you already.” He huffs so quietly you barely hear him, and you bask in the clear humiliation of the titan shifter before you. You supposed you should take pity him… or…

“I think you can beg better than that, Pock.”

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #aot x reader #levi ackerman x reader #hange zoe x reader #armin arlert x reader #reiner braun x reader #porco galliard x reader #bertholdt hoover x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot headcanons #snk x reader #snk headcanons #reiner x reader #levi x reader #porco x reader #hange x reader #bertholdt x reader #armin x reader

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

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[The results of the poll came in, thenk you for voting! :]. Fem reader. You live in a house for this one. Sorry for the wait, it got longer than anticipated (4.7k).]

TW: Dubious consent (reader is somewhat scared); Altered states of mind; Heat/Rut.

It's the fifth time you've been dumped into this rat's nest today.

Breg is in heat, or rather, the earlier days of such.

You knew trouble was coming when you found the breeder laying on the kitchen tiles this morning, an overheated and overly sweaty body trying desperately to cool itself on freezing ceramic. He had panted like a dog under the blaze of a Summer evening and barely noticed your presence before excusing himself to make undignified noises in the bathroom. Showering, arguing with himself, jerking off? You didn't know, and you didn't care- You just wanted to eat something before any of this madness really kickstarted.

As you shoved toast in your mouth, slowly but definitely not calmly, you got to see the monster stress himself out, walking between rooms with various items in hand. It was almost funny, if you didn't know exactly what was coming. When his rut starts, Breg always behaves like a bear who forgot to stock food before hibernating. Oh but he didn't forget anything, the cabinets are full, and he learned to buy instant meals for you after the first couple of heats where you tried to explain to his fried brain that you can't just eat dead animals he plops in front of you. Nonetheless, you got to see him strip the couch of its cushions, struggle with dragging your mattress into a corner, fetching all the spare sheets, coats, towels and blankets he could find- For fuck's sake, he ripped the curtains off this time.

All to make a padded, crowded mess of your bedroom. It's always the bedroom with him, it smells like the two of you, so it does make sense, you bitterly suppose... You'd rather this than the uncomfortable bathroom.

You barely got to finish your coffee before a clammy, darkened hand had grasped your arm and you were not so gently tugged into the bedroom, to "evaluate" the mess your eccentric (putting it criminally lightly) boyfriend had made. Having gone through the motions of this charade more than once, you already knew the correct steps to make sure everything went well. Turning towards the muddled breeder, you kissed him and complimented his skills, calling the crime against your sanity he had just committed beautiful before physically stepping into it and sitting down.

Predictably, Breg let out an elated trill from deep within his throat and forced you to lie down, tangling you in a mess of warm fabrics before slotting himself above you protectively. Heavy as he is, the monster's weight was crushing, although you managed to nudge him aside when he dozed off above you. In this phase of his rut, you're not really sure if he's going to try to fuck you or just hold you and fall asleep, so there's some leeway to roam if you're sneaky about it.

It was when you were trapped under the monster's cocoon, sweating yourself into an early grave, that the doorbell rang and you realized something horrific.

You have a package outside.

God fucking damn it.

You were usually so careful with timing things perfectly, having the days where Breg was likely to start a heat jotted down in bright red ink on your calendar so that you'd never make plans for those days. You went as far as to orient a lot of your work life around his cycle, which is annoying, but at the very least possible. To think you were stupid enough to order something and not even care to check the estimated delivery date is pathetic. Maybe you did see it- But it didn't click in your brain what those days were.

Well shit, you had thought at the time, I can't just let it sit there.

And you were right. It was an expensive purchase. Brand new equipment, high-value tech for one of your favorite hobbies. It had been a costly sacrifice, and the specs were a rare find. The package itself isn't small enough to pass by unnoticed, you know one of your scummy neighbors can see if it they look twice at your doorstep. It could be stolen! It will be, if you don't fetch it eventually.

You had tried to stay still, knowing the monster in heat wouldn't take kindly to any perceived "escape attempts", but it was nerve-wracking. You're sure that package will be taken away if you don't get it fast. You can't lose it, can't lose all that money, that effort.

Your first attempt was a blunder, having moved too fast and woken Breg before you could even make it out the bedroom. By the second, you simply got unlucky and he woke by himself, fetching you back in a panic. On the third, you could spot signs of irritation, having been tossed to the nest none too gently and snarled at, fondled and groped and ground at until he had successfully put a gross mark on you. You'll admit the fourth incident was more of an attempt to get his musk off you than a dash for the package, but it got you barked at nonetheless, caught by the living room while Breg tried to slur out warnings, shaking you, hand around your neck while you were lead back into the bedroom. You know you hit a nerve with the fifth because his face disfigured for a moment.

But you can't give up.

This is too important to you. He can't understand it, but you need that fucking thing inside your home.

That's why you're up again, having weaseled out of his clumsy trap of coats. It's impressive he was coherent enough to use the sleeves to tie knots around you, but that's about where his expertise ends in this precarious state. You've played it safer this time, letting the breeder calm down, letting him tongue-bathe you -Gross- Feed you, let him fuck your thighs even. All just so his hormonal brain can forget you even tried to step out the nest. He's sleeping soundly, but you go through the effort of putting a shirt you recently wore next to the monster, hopefully to keep him lulled.

Breg shifts in his sleep, picking up on the scent and making weird murmurs before clutching at the fabric- As if it were you there. Almost cute, if not for the fact that you're really stressed.

Instead of walking across the house, you crawl, slow and measured to make sure not even the sound of your breathing could rise Breg. There's furniture askew, remotes and decorations on the floor from the previous times he fetched you in a hurry. Although you do your best to muffle your nerves, your arms shake with anxiety. Anything could make him stir awake, you can't ever run away from him, he could hurt you.

Perhaps it's because you're sheltered, or maybe you have too much faith in the breeder, you could just be stupid- But you weigh those odds against the pain of losing your expensive purchase and, in the end, decided you'd sooner twist an ankle than let it get stolen by a filthy porch pirate.

Reaching the front door is a milestone you smile brightly at. The problem comes when you glance at the keys. They'll jingle if you're not careful, the front door thankfully never creaks, but you know for a fact it makes a distinct click when it unlocks. Kneeling, arm outstretched, fingertips almost grazing the keys, you hesitate.

Should you...?

Maybe you should head back. Pretend you never left, snuggle up to him and just give it up for today. But then, this is only just the beginning, his instincts are only going to get worse from here on out. If you can't reach the package today, then it's pointless to even try your luck the following days! Right, this is no time to falter, you need to get it now.

With newfound resolve, an inkling of it at least, you hold the keys with both hands. One to make sure the others don't clink and clank, the other doing the actual turning. Slow like molasses, calculated, even the way you inhale and exhale is measured. On the last turn, you apply pressure and keep the grip on the key as firm as you can, trying to nudge the lock open gently enough to avoid that telltale click. Sucess! Soundlessly, you feel the door move, fully unlocked.

Yes!

The hardest part is over. Removing the keys from the door, you take great care when depositing them on the carpet. Specifically the carpet, to muffle any sort of faint jingling.

The weather outside is nice, but you're too preoccupied to consider something as simple as that. No, your eyes are locked onto your prize. There, only a couple of feet away, your package! Untouched, neatly arranged, perfectly fine as it should be. You nearly cry in relief, crawling outside, beyond caring if any of your neighbors see you like this- A disheveled, stinky mess wearing only a top and casual shorts on all fours.

When your hands wrap around the cardboard, it feels as if all is well in the world. You made it. You secured your purchase. You don't have to worry about anything else anymore, you can just head inside and-

VROOM

A car zooms past the street. You hear it before you see it pass. At first, you don't even think about it. After all, what could be meaningful about a stranger driving by in a hurry, right?

And then you realize your "boyfriend" is in a hypersensitive state with notoriously augmented hearing.

Ah.

Once more, you hear it before you see it.

A jarring thump thump thump THUMP. And a shiver crawls up your spine hard enough to make you freeze. Oh God. Clutching the stupid cardboard box like a lifeline, you glance upwards, towards the doorway, seeing none other than who you dread the most right now. Breg.

He's positively fuming. You're surprised there isn't literal steam coming off his body. Hunched, tense, but it's not the size of him that scares you. It's his face. His distorted, stretched out maw- Fully extended, gums visible, pushing those horrid teeth outward as he drools on the ground. You know, in spite of his lack of visible eyes, that Breg is glaring daggers at you, specifically.

A steady hissing fills your ears and you know it's over. You know you fucked up- Not directly, but you did. Because you left the door wide open and didn't account for the noise. You're a fool. The first thing your instincts tell you to do is rise and prepare to sprint, but the moment you sit straighter, Breg releases a chilling snarl, so you opt to fold further into yourself and remain utterly catatonic. Can he understand you still, through the haze of hormones? Would he grasp it if you apologized? Should you speak at all?

The choice is made for you.

You close your eyes the moment the ground shakes with his sprinting, choking on the collar of your shirt as you're physically dragged by it and picked up by the breeder. Where before Breg's hold had been more protective than anything, it's now oppressive, squeezing you to his chest, claws denting your meat. The proximity allows you to feel the bizarre bumps on his raised skin, frigid, yet coated by steaming sweat drops. You don't open your eyes until you're airborne for a very short period, falling face-first on the musk-heavy nest.

Breg slams the door to the bedroom shut and pants harshly, landing a fist to the wall several times. Each pound makes you jump and tense, huddling into yourself with tears in your eyes. Oh God what if he's had enough? What if he does that to you?! He makes an ambiguous roar and seems to slam his own head on the wall, but it doesn't crack or chip the infrastructure like his hand did.

You wonder if he's giving himself a concussion on purpose, for your sake.

" B-Breg? " Scared, gawking eyes plead with the breeder stationed at the wall. You note the attempts he makes at steadying his breathing, fruitless, as his chest continues to heave dramatically. What the fuck is happening anymore.

" Whah... "

Oh. He's trying to speak. Usually, he can still do it in the first day or so, this looks like it's an especially intense rut, because of course it is. That's just your amazing luck shining through. You wait patiently for the monster to come up with something in between his slurring mumbles.

" What isss wrong with you?! "

" H- Huh? " His words and voice are distorted by the shape of his extended jaw, shifting his mouth and tongue to make the proper sounds of the language you both speak becomes a challenge.

" WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! " Breg bellows, turning around to face you properly. You resist the urge to crawl under the the mess of sheets and clothes.

" I- I just wanted to get the package. " You try, voice light and tone pleading, searching his face for any sort of recognition -A miracle epiphany that doesn't seem to be surfacing any moment soon- and finding nothing but growing confusion. Irritation.

" NO! " He shrieks, gesturing wildly as if you're the one missing an obvious point. " OUTSIDE. "

" Don't- Don't scream at me... "

He rolls his head, looking away, then back. " Outside- " He hisses, quieter at least. " Don't. Go. Out. "

It would just take one second. One second to get that box in and it would be over. Is it really that big of a sin? Breg starts moving upsettingly fast towards you, when an arm shoots out, you do what you usually have to when he's deep into his rut. Belly up, hands back, legs spread and neck bared. Good ol' trusty "please don't kill me".

It works.

The breeder's motions halt altogether and he seems to stare at you vapidly for a couple of static seconds. His jaw retracts a chunk, but his maw is still stretched, still that haunting grin. Good, he's distracted.

" ... You know you can't... Go outside. " He drools, to which you nod frantically. " Here is safe... Here is... "

You get to see the exact moment when hormones kill off just about any higher thought process in Breg. The monster shakes his head and crawls atop you, looking mildly bothered by the amount of clothes on your figure before lifting the hem of your shirt and burying his head underneath. Surprised, you can only giggle incredulously, feeling his humid hot breath fanning your stomach and chest. The breeder replies with an instinctual chirp and his breathing finally begins slowing down.

There, you think while slowly stroking his gross back, he's going to settle down, maybe hump a little and then fall asleep. Fool.

The monster stirs after a couple of comfortable moments, muttering something incoherent. He stands much too quickly and begins tugging you up as well, expression creased with what you think might be worry.

" What- What are you doing? " His grip on your wrist is uncomfortable when he starts walking out of the bedroom.

He spends his entire ruts making sure you stay in this room, now he's pulling you out? Geez, how many brain cells did he fry this time?

He only starts speaking after you tap him a couple of times. " Need to move! " He hisses, like you're particularly dumb. " ... Another cave. "

Cave...? Oh, the house. Yes.

You try to stand your ground, but given he's holding onto such a delicate part of you, it's not a good idea to pull. If he dislocates or fractures your wrist while in heat, there's no telling when you'd be able to reach a hospital- You can't risk that damage.

" But what's wrong with this one? " Really, you don't see what's wrong about the house for him to be fussing. You only have a couple of night lights on, the place is warm, there's food, he made his nest, what's missing? Is he getting pickier for no reason now?

" Not safe enough! " You're led to the living room while Breg has his weird freak out fit, glancing at the front door.

He must have shut it as he dragged you in, at least that. Unfortunately, your delivery remains outside. Though, in hindsight, if anyone saw that little stunt between you and the irate breeder, there's a pretty good chance they won't be ballsy enough to come fetch it. You certainly wouldn't be.

When it seems the rutting monster is determined to actually go outside, you start offering minimal resistance. Anything could happen with Breg in that state out and about, he could maim someone, he could force you to God knows where, he could fuck you in the streets openly- The scandal would follow you forever. A thousand yard stare settles on your face.

" B- But I think it is? " You have no cards to play with when dealing with a monster in rut. How can you logically counter his points when he's not thinking logically at all?

" NO. " Finally, he releases your wrist, now pacing restlessly, claws dragging over his own arms. He's clearly distressed and angered, but you don't know how to calm him without seemingly making it worse.

" YOU'LL RUN. " The breeder pauses to snarl pointedly in your direction, returning to barely coherent mumbling and frantic pacing shortly after.

Ah. So that's why he thinks it's not safe. Granted, you know damn well you put yourself in this spot. Now you'll have to weasel out of it.

" I- I won't. " Your shaky, tiny voice is extremely convincing, surely. " I p-promise! It- It's alright. "

Breg stops clawing at his arms, mumbling halted, his pacing ends with the monster right in front of you. His looming, tense figure has you fixed on the spot like an ant. Part of you wants to start bawling for help, another desperately wishes to reach out and soothe him.

" You- You liar... " He seethes, glancing between you and the door as you sweat bullets. " You WILL run! I know you will! YOU'LL LEAVE ME- "

His volume startles you again, beneath the anger he's showing, beneath those drooling teeth waaay too close to your face, there's genuine panic in his tone. Almost wheezing for a second. You're momentarily reminded that it's not just you who's at peril here. When Breg gets really aggravated, the way his metabolism kicks up several notches has consequences for him as well. This isn't good for anyone, and in your blindsided excitement about your purchase, you completely forgot that your failed attempts have only been stressing his already overloaded organism out more. Suddenly, a wave of guilt crushes your spirit.

There's not much time to wallow in it, because you're being grabbed. The lack of reaction must have upset the breeder, who's darkened arms clutch your own. " YOU'LL LEAVE. I can't let you leave- Can't let you go- Mates can't escape- YOU NEED ME. " Each rise in intensity has him jostling you back and forth.

Ooh boy, this is not looking good.

You consider opening your mouth to say something, try to appease him by whatever means necessary, but given all of your attempts have failed so far, what's the use? There's got to be another way...

...

"You need me"... Hm, maybe it's not so hopeless.

Keeping your gaze focused on the breeder, you know trying to slip away from his grasp is useless, but your intent is to reach down enough to grasp the hem of your shorts, quietly shimmying the cloth down. At first, the breeder doesn't realize why you're squirming, growling in warning at your perceived attitude, until he has the wit to glance towards the movement, watching you drop the fabric to your ankles and step out of it. His gaze is wholly fixated on your pussylips, a string of drool oozing from the side of his face to the floor. This secret smirk spreads on your face at the state you have him in, feeling mildly flattered even if you know how volatile he is right now.

In an effort to distract the male just a bit more, you part your legs a little, hearing him very clearly snort grossly, inhaling. His grip lessens ever so slightly, and you take advantage of it to start edging your now tattered shirt off. He barely twitches when his arms drop, squatting on the ground like some frog as he edges closer to your pussy, about to stuff his face on it most likely. His members steadily poke out that engorged slit, already soaked in their own precum, more than ready for anything.

Summoning all the bravery you have to stick to your possibly not very bright plan, you tense on the spot, allowing him but one second of calm, before hauling ass. Your goal is not the outside, not at all, you're actually sprinting the way you came from, teeth grit with nerves.

Predictably, it's a very short dash, Breg darted after you not even a second later, hot on your tail enough to physically crash against you on the way inside the bedroom and effectively throwing you onto the nest. You're getting really tired of landing face-down on this thing... But it's exactly what you wanted. Because when the breeder looms over you, hips instinctively slotted against yours, his hand keeping your head still, you get to turn things on their head before he can bark at you.

Quickly, you bump your bare ass against his cocks, making sure to grind and sway like you're the one in heat. You can feel the startling temperature of them on your skin, spreading their slick and his scent on you in a way that makes shivers ripple through you. The movement apparently startles Breg's already muddled brain into stillness again, you can tell he's probably very confused, ping-ponging between irritation and delight.

" Hah, guess you caught me again... " You bullshit, arching your spine beneath the monster as much as you can and bumping harder against him. Breg shudders. " So, will you do something about it this time, or do I have to keep running until my mate fucks me hard? "

Please buy it please buy it holy shit-

There's a chuff above you, you're positive he understood the words perfectly when he makes an excited crooning trill that tapers off into a chirp. He pushes his dicks onto you in response and you know it worked flawlessly the moment he dips to lick from your neck upwards. Good, this is good. Not optimal, but better than getting tossed outside.

The key to making him forget about your stunts is to convince the breeder it was all a sort of "challenge", and to do such, you'll have to keep up this attitude. Sloppy rutting turns into pushing yourself onto him when Breg poorly lines one of his dribbling cocks against your pussy. Having been through this song and dance before, you don't let him get any ideas regarding his twin length, awkwardly reaching beneath you to grasp and gently stroke at whatever parts you could reach.

He's thrilled, but your taste of control is short-lived as soon as he can sheathe himself inside you. It's a stretch, lord knows it always is with him, but he's excited this time, ramming himself. If he wasn't leaking lubrication like a broken faucet, you probably would have gotten hurt. As is, you only scream in surprise, fisting the sheets and ripped curtains beneath you. He moans, low and loud, a cry of pure animal relief. And, perhaps to your chagrin, fulfills your request.

" Hhrk-! "

Not a single second of mercy is spared your way. Breg doesn't care to build you up, his goal is one thing and one thing only, to fuck his cocktease of a mate full of his hatchlings, a fruitless effort. Not that it's ever stopped him from trying, you often get the feeling he desperately thinks he can will a pregnancy into existence, even outside of heat.

The monster on top of you is fast and ruthless, all self-serving thrusts kissing deep into your cunt while his spare cock twitches and occasionally slaps against your mound. It's a far cry from how he usually behaves, obviously, but the novelty of getting the breath quite literally fucked out of you never seems to wear off. Thighs shaking, you can't muster the composure to buck against him very aptly, body wracked with intense waves of pleasurable heat every time the somewhat more pronounced ridges of his fattened girth drag on that spot -Oh, that little spot- That has you sobbing soundlessly. In reality, Breg isn't making any efforts to offer you much, if any, pleasure, but it'd be impossible not to brush against something nice every now and then with this pace. Being used like a favored, dirty little cocksock, all you can do is grit your teeth and try not to drool as much as the monster making a puddle of your neck and hair.

Apparently, Breg begins to get annoyed by the way you'll bounce forward a little too far for his tastes, rumbling. It's really not your fault there's so much horsepower behind those legs, but you'll admit you don't like getting delicious friction disrupted too much either. The monster readjusts, an arm snakes beneath to grab your neck, grip firm but not squeezing, the other captures your right hand under his, your thighs are nudged closer together to trap his unattended dick and finally- Bold teeth latch onto the skin on the back of your neck.

He's done this before, in controlled settings however. You don't think it's a particularly good idea to let Breg's currently sharpened teeth around your neck for long periods of time, so really, the faster he cums, the less danger you're in. It's difficult to think about much of anything when the rutting breeder's pace resumes, this time not as deep but fast enough to make your vision blur, the smack of skin on skin and frantic shared panting putting you in a trance. God, he fucking stinks like this, you can't escape the smell, ever, it's on you now. He growls and occasionally clips out short moans in response to your helpless flexing around his wet cock, surprising you with another chirp.

Ah, precisely. There's something you can use!

Knowing full well you've never been good at it, you cough to clear your throat before attempting, quite poorly, to imitate the sound. You do it twice for good measure, immediately rewarded with an enthusiastic, hard grind that lifts you ever so slightly off the nest while Breg makes a keening sound that melts into a more complex trill. Your eyes roll and you feel yourself cumming hard around him, grunting at the sudden pleasure. Fuck, how do you make that one? He clearly loves it, you have to at least try. Drunk on the afterglow of your orgasm, you let out a series of vaguely similar whistling clicks, not really sure what you're transmitting to the breeder, or caring really.

The monster's hold of your neck tightens enough to make you wince, though the vibrations of his muffled moaning are shamefully arousing as his next series of hard pounds nearly jostle the few contents of your stomach. You know he's cumming when claws dart to hold your hips perfectly still and his head drops on yours, braying out a shameless noise that devolves into harsh puffing and gasping. Naturally, the cock nestled between your now sticky thighs coats your front and the sheets in a stupid amount of pearly cum, making you whine at the feeling while your womb tries to accommodate as much of the other's load as possible- What it inevitably fails to hold having no choice but to ooze and squeeze out, dripping to your front as well.

Long moments pass, though the shaking of your legs only grows, causing Breg to flip you both on your sides before he ends up crushing you. it's gross, you're laying on a small pool of warm seed while he plugs you happily, glancing up to see him smile happily at you through the haze of hormones. Contented and calm, the ideal state. You don't struggle or react much when the male predictably reaches to start tongue-bathing your upper body, merely grimacing at the scent of excess saliva.

Just to make sure things are even and smoothed out between you, you turn slightly, placing a peck on that long neck and chastely licking him back. There's no way you're going to groom him in this gross state, but it appears to be rewarding enough, his tail swatting around violently.

" ... Angel. " He mumbles, head nuzzling yours lazily. " My angel... "

Crisis averted.

#Bregory #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #terato #terat0philliac #monsterfucker #not sfw #minors dni

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tkaulitzlvr · 7 months

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hii i absolutely adore your writing it’s literally the best thing on this app!

since my birthday is in a week i just wanted to request a fic where it’s the readers birthday and tom and everyone is ignoring her and “forgot” it’s her birthday but it’s a part of tom’s plan bc he’s throwing a party for her and surprises her when she comes back home but later on in the night tom has another surprise for her if ykwim ;)

if you can’t get to this i understand but thank you for blessing the world w your writing <3

-🧪

BIRTHDAY SEX - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you wake up on your birthday, tom acting like he would any other day, bringing you to the conclusion that he had forgotten about your special day. little did you know, this was all part of his plan.

content: tinyyy bit of angst, smut

a/n: i’m so sorry for not posting for like a week wtf😭 i’ve gotten a lot of requests whilst i’ve been inactive so i’m gonna try work through them asap, but happy birthday anon hope u have an amazing day!! thank u so much for the request, hope i did it justice! 💞

my eyes slowly flutter open, staying half-lidded as the sun’s rays leak in from the small gap in the curtains, not used to the sudden exposure to light. i look downwards, bending my neck slightly, seeing tom’s arm thrown loosely across my stomach, quiet and steady snores escaping his parted lips as he sleeps. his face smushed against the pillow, body flat on his stomach, head nestled just above my shoulder, i know that he is in deep sleep, not planning to wake up anytime soon. the disappointed tinge in my stomach tightens once i realise this, expecting tom to already be awake, preparing me a special breakfast, showering me with gifts and kisses as he usually would on my birthday.

but the room is as it usually looks - no balloons, no presents, no banners, no candies; nothing. but i try to stay hopeful, considering the possibility that he had got up in the night, the array of gifts waiting for me downstairs. so i let him sleep a little longer, veins oozing with excitement as i hang fire, studying his expression for any sign that he is waking up, desperate to see what he had prepared for me, as he usually had a tendency to go all out for these occasions.

he stirs slowly, groaning a little as his arms stretch out, pulling me further into him. his eyes open, a lazy smile gracing his lips when he sees me. i stay quiet, waiting for him to acknowledge my special day, showering me with love and affection and reminding me of the day i have ahead of me. but my face falls at his words, more specifically, the lack of them.

“morning, beautiful.”

my eyebrows furrow in confusion, wondering if he is playing some sort of prank on me - not at all amused if he is. if he does sense my annoyance, he doesn’t acknowledge it, instead he dips his head into my neck so that his lips are brushing against it, and begins to plant slow and soft kisses there, hands occasionally squeezing the flesh of my hips. i don’t stop him, instead i allow the millions of questions in my mind to sit there, the sinking feeling in my stomach rising as i try to prevent the realisation that he has forgotten about my birthday truly feel real. there is no way - he’s never forgotten, even before we started dating, he’d always wish me happy birthday. however the more sloppy his kisses on my neck get, his lips smiling against it, body inching further into mine lazily as it would every other morning, it is clear that my fear has completely come true, and, somehow, he is totally unaware of how special this day is - to me, at least.

“you got any plans today, schatz?” he asks, head still buried into my neck as he speaks in between kisses, eventually moving it upwards so that he is now looking into my eyes, completely clueless.

internally, i want to slap him, scold him for having such a terrible memory and even being able to remotely forget about today. but, i decide to hold back, coming to the silent conclusion that i will go out elsewhere, with people who actually have the decency to remember my birthday unlike my boyfriend. so i shake my head, forcing my lips into a weak smile, my fingers reaching upwards to play with a loose dread falling from his face.

his eyebrows furrow, head tilting to the side as he senses something is wrong. my heart swells in excitement as i watch him appear to think something over, waiting for him to finally remember what day it is. but, i am quickly proven wrong as he is still just as clueless as he was five minutes ago.

“you okay? you seem upset.” he says, so absentmindedly i wonder if he is actually being serious. it seems that he is completely sincere, his hand moving to stroke my cheek as he awaits an answer, failing to understand that his obliviousness is the reason for my sadness.

“yeah i’m fine, just a little tired.” i reassure him, trying to make my smile seem a little more real, and, somehow he buys it, nodding his head and moving downwards to plant a tender kiss on my lips.

“okay, well the guys want me at the studio to rehearse.” he begins, pecking my lips a few more times, not noticing the way my face falls, in disbelief of this entire situation, having expected to be celebrating with him the whole day. “so i don’t know when i’ll be back. but we can watch a movie and order takeout or something tonight, mhm?”

“sounds great.” i say, sarcasm laced in my tone as i now feel anger more than anything. i reach my hands to his chest, placing them flat against it, pushing him off of my body as i sit up, turning around to get out of bed.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he quickly says, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, kissing my shoulder as he pulls me further into him, my back flush against his chest.

“nothing tom. have fun with the band, text me when you’re finished, yeah?” i turn my head, pressing my lips to his in an attempt to shut him up, wanting to be as far away from him as possible right now, hoping that he is planning on leaving soon.

“if you’re sure.” he shrugs, pecking my lips once again before climbing out of bed, as i do the same. “i’m running late schatz, i’m gonna get dressed then i have to go.”

i nod my head as he takes a few steps towards me, wrapping his arms around my frame and embracing me in a tight hug, my head resting in his shoulder.

“i love you.” he whispers, his head resting on top of mine.

“love you too.” i quickly say, breaking apart from the hug. he kisses my forehead quickly, before walking over to the closet, picking out some baggy jeans and an oversized t-shirt as he would every day. he hurriedly slips them on, tying his dreads in a ponytail and placing a matching cap on his head. he smooths out his t-shirt, walking over to me once more.

“i love you beautiful, see you tonight.” he says, swiftly kissing my lips before rushing out of our bedroom, the front door closing a few seconds later.

i sit down on the edge of the bed, my eyes clouding with tears, wondering what i could have done to make my own boyfriend forget about my birthday, feeling completely miserable. to make things even worse, i hadn’t received any messages from my friends, family - anybody.

but i tried to stay happy, remembering that even if tom had forgotten, my friends and i were still going out for my birthday meal tonight as we did every year.

༻❦༺

6:04pm, the time on my screen reads, reminding me that i should start getting ready, my birthday dinner booked for 7:30. tom hadn’t texted me all day, neither had anybody, yet i still had the hope that my friends were all getting ready too - feeling sick at the thought that it wasn’t just tom that had forgotten. but i didn’t want to think about him, my pent up anger and frustration going to be released when he came home from the studio, though i silently wished that he wouldn’t, not even wanting to see him.

i scan my closet, my fingers landing on a small black dress that i hadn’t worn yet, pulling it from the hanger and studying it, contemplating before nodding my head, taking my comfy clothes off and getting changed into it. i walk to the mirror, content with my appearance for once, the dress perfectly highlighting my curves, the material reaching mid-way down my thighs. my hair already straight as i had fixed it earlier, i move onto my makeup, applying basically everything as i take care in making sure i look perfect for tonight, not wanting anything else to go wrong.

finishing my lipstick, i move away from the mirror, adjusting my hair and running my fingers through it, removing any small knots. i check the time once again - 7:02pm. my eyes widen, realising that i have to leave, yet as i am rushing to get my heels on, my phone buzzes. i stop, placing my second heel on my foot before looking at the words on my screen.

so sorry girl, a family emergency has come up and the rest of the girls can’t make it. we will make it up to u i promise!! - 7:04pm

my eyes stare at the screen in disbelief, reading the words over and over again, wondering if i am imagining them as it seems impossible that so much has gone wrong in one day. i slump onto my bed, frustratedly kicking my heels off, trying to stop the tears forming in my eyes from falling - even if i’m not going out, my makeup still looks perfect, some pathetic tears aren’t going to ruin it. but before i can become too upset, my phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up as i roll my eyes, seeing that tom has finally texted me.

schatz, come to bill’s house. be quick if you can, it’s pretty important. i love you. - 7:08pm

my eyes widen, quickly picking up on the urgency of his text, my mind assuming that the worst has happened. i quickly rush to put my heels back on, not caring that i am dressed to go to a party, more focused on getting to tom as fast as i can, feeling so selfish for being mad that he hadn’t texted me all day, now worried sick as i scramble for my car keys, quickly rushing out of the front door.

༻❦༺

i pull up outside of bill’s house, the lights off, the entire place eerily quiet. having known him all my life, i no longer knock on his door, instead i walk straight in, my eyes met with an empty hallway.

“tom? bill?” i got your message, is everything okay?” i call out, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor as i walk into the kitchen, which is just as empty as the room before, my eyes furrowing in confusion, whatever tom needed me for clearly not as urgent as he had made out.

i turn around, about to leave the kitchen, but just as i am about to take my first step, my eyes are covered by two large hands, my body freezing in shock.

“guess who?” a familiar voice says, my body turning to be met with his cocky smile, his hands moving to rest on my hips as i stare at him in disbelief.

“tom? what the fuck, are you okay? is bill okay? i’ve been worried sick, what’s going-”

my rambling is cut off by tom pressing his lips to mine, smiling against them as he pulls away after a few seconds, my concern somehow amusing to him.

“shhh, come with me.” he mutters against my lips, taking my hand and pulling me out of the kitchen.

“what? where are we going? tom you’re driving me crazy what is going on?” i ask as he pulls me through the hallway, leading me outwards towards the garden.

“baby calm down. everything is fine.” he begins, stopping and turning to face me, taking my hands in his. “you look beautiful by the way.”

“thanks tom but that’s not-”

“schatz, just trust me okay? come on.” he interrupts, squeezing my hand as we continue to walk towards the garden. the double doors leading out to it are closed, heavy curtains draped over the glass, stopping me from seeing what is outside. tom moves the curtain a little, opening the door and stepping outside, my mouth falling open in shock.

my eyes are met with a crowd of all of my friends, a few people unfamiliar, some people that i recognise to be tom’s friends, as well as an array of balloons, food, alcohol, banners, the pool lit up as confetti decorates the outside of it.

“happy birthday!” a chorus of voice says, my hands flying to my mouth in shock, a wide smile on my face as i turn to tom, his eyes already on mine. i quickly pull him into a hug, so tight that his body stumbles backwards a little, but his arms soon wrap around my lower back, a proud grin etched upon his face.

“happy birthday meine liebe.” he says, raising his voice a little as the music that has just been turned on drowns out any other noise.

“how did you- i thought you forgot?” i question, pulling away from the hug, staying within his embrace as his arms remain on my hips. he chuckles lightly, shaking his head.

“how could i forget about my girl’s birthday? i’ve been planning this for so long. it’s been so hard to keep it a secret, and i hated making you upset this morning, i almost cracked when you got mad at me, but, seeing your reaction now makes it all worth it.” he says, eyes staring into mine.

i stand there speechless, unable to find the right words, wondering how he managed to pull this whole thing off. i pull his face towards mine, connecting our lips in a soft kiss, tom deepening it a little as he presses his lips harder onto mine. i pull away for breath, resting my forehead against his.

“it’s perfect, i don’t even know what to say. i love you.” i state, unable to hide my excitement.

“i love you too baby. now come on, let’s have fun.” he smiles, taking my hand and guiding me over to some of our friends.

༻❦༺

“there’s one more surprise for you.” tom whispers in my ear, giving my ass a rough squeeze as he smirks knowingly, the lustful tint within his eyes saying exactly what kind of surprise he is hinting towards.

we had been at the party for a few hours, certainly tipsy as everyone else was, yet it didn’t show any sign of ending soon, the music seeming to get louder, amount of alcohol coming from inside only increasing.

“oh yeah? and what’s that?” i ask, looking upwards at him, my hand running down his chest.

he chuckles slightly, bending down so his lips are level with my ear, his breathing tickling the area. “you’ll have to wait until we get home.” he teases, kissing the skin below my ear before moving back, taking a drink from his cup as his other arm remains around my shoulder.

“or we could just leave now.” i challenge, willing to play whatever game he thinks he has started, knowing that he will cave in.

“hmm.” he begins, titling his head, trying to make it look like he is debating on letting me win, though i can tell his mind was made the second i said the words. “you are the birthday girl, you’re in charge beautiful.”

he shrugs his shoulders, tongue poking outwards to play with his lip ring.

“then we’re leaving.” i state, taking his hand and saying my brief goodbyes to everybody, not being able to get out of the house fast enough.

we reach my car as i throw my keys over to tom, letting him drive as he is the more sober one out of the two of us, having only had one drink. the drive home is torturous, tom squeezing my thigh and whispering just the right things in my ear, knowing the effect that his words have on me, my legs squeezing together as the heat between them becomes unbearable.

he pulls up in the driveway, stepping out of the car and taking my hand, unlocking the front door. he guides me upstairs and into the bedroom, walking towards his closet and returning with a square black box. he places it in front of me as i sit on the bed, his body towering over me.

“happy birthday baby.” is all he says, watching me as i take the lid off of the box, revealing the most beautiful black lingerie set i had ever laid my eyes on. i take it out of the box, holding it in front of me as i stare at it in awe.

“i love it! thank you thank you thank you!” i squeal, standing on my knees on the edge of the bed and kissing his lips quickly.

“you gonna put it on for me? i’ve been waiting to see you in it since i bought it, been driving me crazy.” he whispers against my lips, teeth tugging my bottom lip gently as he slowly releases it, smirking slightly against me. “don’t keep me waiting any longer.”

i nod my head, pecking his lips once more before climbing off of the bed, heading into the bathroom and closing the door. i slip my dress off, netting it pool at my feet, before pulling the panties upwards and onto my body. the bra follows as i clip it on, adjusting the straps. i look at myself in the mirror, in shock of how well tom knows me. it fits perfectly, complimenting my figure in ways i didn’t know were possible.

i open the door, tom quickly turning to face me. his eyes widen, a grin taking over his expression as his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. he walks towards he, hands finding my hips as his fingers dip in and out of the lacy material of my panties, eyes burning into my figure. he bends down, pushing his lips against mine and quickly sliding his tongue in, groaning quietly against me.

his hands move under my thighs, squeezing the flesh as he uses them to lift me up, wrapping my legs against his torso. he walks us over to the bed, falling onto it as i collapse on top of him, never breaking the kiss. his fingers grace my figure, starting at my back, slowly moving to my ass as he kneads it roughly, using it to grind my body against him, his dick already hard through his jeans. i gasp into his mouth at the feeling, my hands cupping his face as i pull his lips harder against my own.

“better than i imagined.” he mutters against my lips, biting them softly. “you’re so beautiful, you know that?”

i moan lightly in response, pulling backwards to reach for his t-shirt, not liking that he is still fully dressed. he smirks at my desperation, helping me to pull his t-shirt off. i sit up, straddling him as he holds my waist, my fingers fiddling with the button of his jeans, scrambling to take them off. he sees me struggling, moving upwards a little, undoing the zipper and pulling them from his legs, my hips lifting upwards momentarily so that he can take them completely off.

he is now in his boxers, my hands tracing his abs as he reconnects our lips, his fingers reaching for the clasp of my bra, undoing it in one swift motion. i pull at his boxers, getting them off as i want nothing more than him to be inside of me.

“how do you want it baby?” he mutters against me, slipping my panties off as he speaks. “whatever you want beautiful, just let me make you feel good.”

his chest moves up and down, lips parted as his eyes stare into mine, awaiting my response. instead of voicing my needs verbally, i climb off of him, laying flat against the bed as i pull him on top of me, taking his dick and putting it at my entrance, letting him move fully inside of me.

my mouth falls open as he bottoms out, small whines escaping from my lips. my hands fly to his back, nails digging into the skin as they rake downwards, tom wincing as the slight pain only fuels his desire. he pulls almost completely out, before slamming into me, a loud moan leaving my lips at the exciting mix of pain and pleasure, able to tune out the slight discomfort and focus on the way he fills me up.

he groans against my lips, kissing them repeatedly as he moves in and out of me, building a steady pace. “fuck you feel so good.” he sighs, grabbing my legs and throwing them over his shoulders, the new angle causing me to practically scream in satisfaction, his tip drilling against my g-spot repeatedly.

“please don’t stop, right there, mhm!” i manage to say, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as his dick continues to stretch me out, hitting places that no one but him ever could.

my walls clench around him, a small groan coming from the base of his throat at my movement. “do that again baby- fuck, do it again.” he basically begs, his head falling backwards once i repeat my motions.

i attempt to kiss him, my movements against his lips sloppy and inconsistent, loud moans pouring from my mouth into his as he groans lowly, his pace speeding up, breathing becoming fast and heavy. his chest is flush against mine, bodies sticking together, the sound of our skin slapping together sounding throughout the room, a chorus of inaudible sounds leaving our lips as we chase our release.

“i’m close, keep going, please.” i beg, my voice coming out as a desperate whine. he nods his head in response, gripping my thighs harder, his muscles flexing with each movement as his thrusts become faster and stronger. his dick starts to twitch, signalling to me that he is close too.

“where do you want it baby?” he breathes out, his eyes squeezed shut, movements now becoming irregular.

“inside.” i moan out, not caring about the consequences right now, drunk on the feeling of his dick moving in and out of me.

he lets out a small ‘mhm’, his response soon cut off by a loud groan as he feel him shoot his hot cum into me, the liquid coating my walls, the sudden pressure triggering my own climax. the knot in my stomach unravels, a high pitched moan leaving my lips as i clutch onto him harder than i ever have before, watching the way his face twists in pleasure, head rolling backwards as he rocks his hips at a slow pace, riding out our highs.

he collapses on top of me, hands running up and down my waist as he places a small kiss on my collarbone before lazily muttering against my skin, his voice low and hoarse.

“happy fucking birthday.”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #kaulitz twins #tokiohotel #kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz angst #tomkaulitz #bill kaulitz

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metallicaislife · 6 months

Text

A Steamy Halloween

A/N: I am so bad at flirting irl and that translates into my writing I'm so sorry hahahahah I think what happens after makes up for it thoughhhh 😏

Requested by : Anon

Genre: 18+ Smut, minors dni

Word Count: 1,531

Warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, m x f pairing

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride there?” Kirk asked for the third time over the phone.

“Yes, I’m running behind a little bit so I’ll just see you when I get there, okay? Plus, it’s not that far from my house. A short walk won’t kill me.” I said holding the phone between my shoulder and ear as I applied the deep red lipstick.

“Fine, I’ll see you there.” He finally relented.

“See ya.” I said quickly and hung up the phone.

I took my time with finishing touches of my costume.

I entered the party, greeting a few people. I was on a mission to find my best friend though. When my eyes landed on him, I was surprised to see he was already looking at me. I made my way over to him.

“If you spotted me why didn’t you say anything?” I asked folding me arms. He finally snapped out of whatever spell he was under.

“I.. uh sorry. Um, nice costume.” He said swallowing hard. Internally I smirked, I was in a short leather dress that accentuated my body perfectly, and a pair of platform heels.

“Thanks.” I smiled showing off my fangs, tried and true sexy vampire for the win. “Are you a ghoul?” I asked. His eyes were surrounded by black paint and contoured his face to give it that hollow look.

“Bingo.” He replied with finger guns. What a dork. My favorite dork though.

“Anything fun going on here?” I asked, finally taking the seat next to him.

“Not really. But it’s still early.” He shrugged.

“You’re forgetting who’s throwing the party, my guy. If it was me there’d be games but it looks like all this is, is a costume mingle.” I huffed.

“Wanna give it a while longer then get outta here?” He asked.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

We got up and talked with some of the other party goers. I was right though, all these people were interested in talking, no drinking games, kissing games, you know a normal party.

About a half an hour later, my eyes met Kirk’s and I gave him the signal we concocted to give the other when we wanted to leave a situation. Kirk nodded and we met at the front door.

We walked to his car in silence. He opened the door for me.

“Thanks.” I said sliding in and buckling up. He walked around getting in.

“Where to?” He asked, starting his car.

“I’m hungry, are you?” I asked as I fidgeted with my hair.

“Yeah, the diner okay?” He offered our usual spot to eat.

“Always.” I replied.

The diner was on the other side of town. Music played softly over the radio. Kirk has been my best friend since grade school, but sometimes it felt like he was my boyfriend except without the perks of kissing among other things. Things that I thought of more often than I would ever admit. Sometimes I flirt with him just to see his reaction. He does the same though. It’s like we’re stuck in this vicious cycle of seeing how far we can push that boundary. Feeling confident in my costume and the reaction he gave from seeing me in it I decided tonight would be a good night to push that boundary button.

“You know, if the party turned into a make out party I’d have let you kiss me.” I said. I was serious, but I kept my tone light. I looked at him, his nostrils flared but he didn’t say anything so I kept going. “I would have even let you touch me.” I said dropping my voice to sound sexy.

“You talk an awful lot for someone who won’t actually do anything.” Kirk snapped as he clenched the steering wheel. My mood soured and I quickly snapped back.

“You’re one to talk.”

I jolted in my seat, the seat belt tightened, not letting me go far.

“What the hell, Kirk!” I exclaimed.

He didn’t say anything as he pulled the car over and parked where there weren’t many cars or foot traffic.

“Get in the back seat.” He said in a dark tone.

“What?” I asked, looking at him. His eyes met mine, there was a fire I’d never seen before.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” He warned. My eyes widened as warmth pooled low in my belly. I fumbled a bit as I unbuckled and got out of the car sliding into the back seat. My heart thrummed in anticipation. Moments later Kirk followed suit and got out of the driver's seat and entered the back. He locked us in. His demeanor broke a little and he said, “if you don’t want to do this, tell me to stop.”

He scooted closer and I moved so I could crawl onto his lap straddling him.

“I want you to fuck me.” I said. The fire returned in his eyes and our lips met in a deep kiss that I felt in my toes.

Years of imagining this moment, and it was something so much more than I could have ever wished for. His hands gripped me tightly as I tangled my fingers in his hair.

I grinded down on him feeling him begin to harden. He pulled away and started sloppily kissing my neck as I continued grinding against him. My dress was riding up and his warm palms ran up and down my thighs as he found my sweet spot and bit down. I moaned as my hands explored the planes of his chest through his shirt. I found the hem and began lifting it up and he pulled back enough to let me help him take it off. I immediately dove in kissing and nipping at his chest. His hands kneaded my ass then he began to lift me. It was a bit cramped but he managed to maneuver us so I was laying across the back seat, my feet planted on the seat knees up. My dress was bunched up to my stomach. Kirk knelt as he rubbed his hands over my legs. His pupils were blown, lips swollen. He looked hot as fuck. His hands traveled further until he was at the top of my panties. He began pulling them down and I shifted my hips up so he could take them off. He shoved them into his back pocket. He ran his fingers through my folds eliciting a moan from my throat. He slipped a finger in, then another, using his thumb to rub my clit.

“Oh fuck… don’t stop.” I moaned. He smirked.

“Does it feel good?” He asked.

“S’good.” I moaned louder as I got closer to my release. I squirmed as I came, a slew of curse words leaving my lips.

“So fucking sexy.” Kirk commented. He pulled his dick out of his pants rubbing my release over it. My hooded eyes met his eyes as he moved closer. He rubbed the tip over my clit, I whined.

“Want you in me.” I breathed out. He aligned himself with me and thrust in. He let out a groan.

“Thought about this for so long. Gonna fuck you so good you won’t get off to anyone’s cock but mine.” He said, and I believed him. The windows were fogging as he began pistoning his hips, our breathing heavy. He paused for a moment to lift my hips and resumed, I screamed as he hit my g-spot. The car shook with each thrust. I came again, my eyes rolling back. He continued dragging out my pleasure before pulling out, he fisted his dick and came on my stomach. He lowered my hips and rested his forehead on my knee. After a while in silence regaining our breath he sat up tucking himself back into his pants.

“Stay there.” He said and got out going to the passenger door. I heard him rummage about the glovebox before coming back around to kneel between my legs. He had napkins and tenderly cleaned my stomach.

“Thank you.” I croaked, my throat hoarse from screaming.

He smiled and helped me sit up bringing my dress back down to cover me. I got out of the backseat and he rushed around to open the passenger door. He stopped me before I got in and kissed me, I immediately kissed him back. He pulled away, a goofy grin on his face.

I got in and we resumed our voyage to the diner.

When we got there, Kirk opened the diner door for me, following behind and softly resting his hand on the small of my back.

We were led to a booth and sat across from each other. I ordered fries and soda, while Kirk got a salad.

“Do you want to go back to my place after and watch Halloween?” Kirk asked. I munched on a fry and nodded.

“Can we watch Creature from the Black Lagoon after that?” I asked.

“Of course.” He replied with a smile.

We fell into comfortable conversation. Part of me wondered how the dork in front of me was the same one from 20 minutes ago that absolutely rocked my world.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

#metallica x reader #metallica #metallica imagines #metallica scenarios #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett #metallica smut #kirk hammett smut

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ruggiezz · 10 months

Text

— TU TANTA FALTA DE QUERER : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] them coping with breaking up with you / angst

[characters] dormleaders (except for vil)

[warnings] mentions of depression symptoms, in basically all of them. wishing to die in a phrase in malleus's part, mentions of food (kalim and idia)

[song] tu falta de querer-mon laferte (i highly recommend listening while reading)

"¿CÓMO FUE, QUE ME DEJASTE DE AMAR?"/"HOW WAS IT, THAT YOU STOPPED LOVING ME?"

Heartslabyul students are worried about RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS now that he broke up with you. You would expect him to be more irritable than usual, taking out his anger in the first years and taking every opportunity he has to collar someone, but he isn't. He looks like an empty shell of who he once was, barely acknowledging other students, only focusing on his schoolwork. He sees how you look at this new guy you surely have something with. Was he better than him? He must make you happier than he ever did, and he wonders what did he do so wrong for you to stop loving him.

He starts overworking himself; it's the only way of coping he knows. He needs to work harder. He can do better. He needs to stop thinking about you and the way you cried after this particular fight you both had before breaking up. But he can't; your choked sobs come back to haunt him every time he's alone, trying to sleep after a hard day of school. Ace and Deuce barely spend time in Heartslabyul now, only going there to sleep and spending all of their time at Ramshackle. Trey is worried about him, seeing his eyebags and the way his eyes no longer sparkle when he eats tarts. Cater tries to make jokes whenever he can to try and earn a laugh from Riddle, but he just walks away, as if no one but him was there. The only thing Riddle can't ignore, no matter how much he works and works, is the way his heart aches.

"díficil olvidarte estando aquí/hard to forget you being here."

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR barely goes out of his room anymore, having Ruggie fetch things for him whenever he needs to. His missed assignments were piling up on his desk, the curtains closed, and his phone on silent. He just lays all day and night on his bed, not even bothering to go to class anymore. He becomes snappy at Jack when he tells him that Trein told him he was going to have to repeat another year if he didn't attend classes, and he becomes irritated when Ruggie tells him that Falena called, asking to speak to him. Leona doesn't want to see anyone; he just wants to be wrapped around his covers, where no one can reach him.

The bed no longer smells of you; it feels empty and wrong to lay there without you, but he continues to do it. He overheard a second year talking about you dating someone new, and if looks could kill, that student would be dead. It's now an unwritten rule not to mention you in the dorm.

Whenever Leona's not sleeping, he's alone with his thoughts. His mind replays your last words to him, telling him it was for the best for both of you, and he asks himself again and again,How did you stop loving him? He can come up with a lot of answers that make his head hurt and his eyes watery, but he decides to sleep, so he can no longer feel.

"ahora dormiré my profundamente para olvidar/now i will sleep very profoundly to forget."

Everybody in Diasomnia notices how MALLEUS DRACONIA is in a worse mood every day that passes. There are storms almost every day, with thunder striking aggressively at everything it can manage to touch. If nobody dared to approach him before, they certainly don't dare even more now, making him even more lonely. He can't stop thinking about you; he misses you so much it hurts. Malleus finds himself out of Ramshackle dorm, staring at your room's window, hoping to catch a glance of you, but he never does. He can only hear your laughter and other guy laughing with you, which sours his mood even more. That night, nobody could sleep because of how strong the thunder was.

Lilia tries to assure the others that Malleus will be alright if they just give him time. Silver doesn't dare enter his room when he hears Malleus breaking things after he comes back from Ramshackle, knowing he is probably going to make him feel worse. And Sebek is distraught, even resenting you for making his young master feel so miserable, cursing your name under his breath, something that was immediately stopped by Lilia because Malleus could hear him.

Malleus wonders if you have cried as much as he has and if you feel this unbearable pain in your chest too. He longs for you, for your presence to soothe him and tell him you never stopped loving him and that it was all a very cruel joke humans made. But that never comes.

"quisiera hasta la muerte para no pensar/i would even like to die to not think."

"YO AÚN PODÍA SOPORTAR, TU TANTA FALTA DE QUERER"/"I COULD STILL ENDURE IT, YOUR SO MUCH LACK OF LOVE"

AZUL ASHENGROTTO hasn't changed on the surface. He keeps his suave, businessman persona with clients, but he's noticeably quieter when alone with the twins. He works even more than before, staying until late at night in his office filling paperwork. Jade occasionally brings him tea, telling him not to stay up late. Floyd is in a sour mood now that Azul doesn't react how he would like to his antics, even missing work doesn't bother him as much as it used to.

No matter how much chaos or disaster the twins cause, Azul just looks the other way. Eventually, they just stop and continue helping him with his next business scheme, even if he doesn't seem as excited as he should be.

When alone in his room, Azul sits on his bed with his face hidden in his hands so that no one can hear his sobs. He feels so small and useless, wanting you to hold him and calm him down. But you aren't there. He is alone. He misses the way you would tell him words so sweet they were dripping with honey. He wonders if they were empty words you just told him to make him feel better. Please come back; he could endure knowing you didn't love him on the condition you wouldn't leave him.

"me siento mutilada y tan pequeña/i feel mutilated and so small."

No one notices any change in KALIM AL-ASIM, except Jamil, who hears him crying in his room at night while everyone is asleep. His smile is still bright as he greets the Scarabia students after a long day, but it no longer feels genuine. The parties in the dorm happen less and less, until they no longer happen.

Kalim feels as if he has withered inside, his heart broken in a thousand pieces. He misses you so badly, he just wants to hug you and tell you how sorry he is for not being enough. Please come back; he could even beg on his knees for you to be with him, even if you lacked the love you once felt for him.

Jamil brings him his breakfast, silently noticing the eyebags on Kalim's face. 'He must not have slept again' he thinks to himself. Kalim notices Jamil staring at him, and he wipes his face with his pajama sleeve. Neither of them say anything, and Jamil leaves him alone with his emotions and his food. He takes a bite out of it, ignoring how tired he feels after staring all night at the last text message you sent him. He wishes to write back and ask you for a second chance, saying he will do anything for you to come back, but he can't bring himself to do it.

"aún te amo y, creo, que hasta más que ayer/i still love you, and i think, even more than yesterday."

IDIA SHROUD isolates himself even more than before, hiding in his room and Ortho has to bring him food so he doesn't starve. Food no longer tastes good; it feels bland, videogames don't feel enjoyable; and no matter how many mangas and animes he watches, the feeling of wanting to cry that's stuck in his throat doesn't go away.

He barely speaks, answering Ortho with monosyllables when asked how he feels today, what he did all day, and where you were. Eventually, Ortho catches up to what happened and tries speaking with you, but Idia stops him. Even if he wants you to tell him why did you left, to yell at him what's wrong with him, to tell him that he was unloveable, to tell him something, something that explained why you didn't love him anymore, he doesn't want to see you. You left him with no explanation of why, only saying it was for the best, and that infuriated him but depressed him at the same time.

Idia wanted you to come back, to sit on his lap while he played a new game that dropped, but you aren't here with him anymore. His room feels colder than usual, with only the light from the screen accompanying him. He cries and cries, begging you in silence to come back, saying that he would cherish you and would be a better boyfriend now. But you won't come back and neither would your love for him, and he finds himself hoping you would stay here with him even if you didn't love him anymore.

"ven y cuéntame la verdad, ten piedad/come and tell me the truth, have mercy."

#riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #kalim x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst angst

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thebigbiwolf · 5 months

Text

Mine, if Only for the Night

Summary:

Based on a prompt given to me by a wonderful anon: Astarion/reader fic where he finds out she's never had a lover 'finish the job' so she doesn't see what all the fuss is about, and he decides to use his skills to ruin her for anyone else and show her what she's been missing out on?

Fic Tags: Porn with feelings, Multiple Orgasms, Overstim, Astarion POV, LOTS of Pining, Vaginal sex of all kinds (jesus), and Reader's First Orgasm lol

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), language

Word Count: 5.1k~

Read on AO3: Here

A/N: I loved this prompt. No notes. This is also maybe a bit of a fix-it fic where Astarion does not dissociate during your first time in the woods because my baby deserves to have a good time.

Thank you Lari @imaginarydromedary for being the best beta ever.

Astarion leans his shoulder against a tree, surveying the clearing.

While the surroundings were still a tad rugged for his tastes, he’d taken it upon himself to arrange a few furs and pillows here and there until it felt acceptably comfortable.

He peels off his nightshirt, discarding it into the plush grass as he works his jaw, wondering where you might be.

You should have arrived by now. More than an hour had passed since the distant, jovial music and chatter had faded into nothing, and the tieflings have long since said their goodbyes. The night envelopes him in silence, broken only by the distant murmur of a nearby stream and the usual cricket song.

He’s starting to wonder if perhaps he had misread this entire situation. Maybe he pushed too far - made some sort of error in his assessment of you.

Or maybe you didn't desire him at all.

The idea gnaws at him - unsettles him more than he’d ever care to admit.

An uncomfortable weight in his chest.

He brushes the feeling aside, scoffing to himself.

As if you or anyone else would deny themselves a chance to indulge in his body, especially when offered an immediate out. No unnecessary promises. Not even a cuddle.

As if.

And yet, he can’t seem to shake this uncomfortable doubt.

Step by step, he paces, turning your interaction with him at the party over in his head until he’s exhausted every word - until the grass flattens beneath the soles of his feet.

How the topic of your disappointing sexual history came up could perhaps be attributed to your shared bottle of wine. He’d nearly choked on the damned drink when you explained to him, in detail, about every encounter, every night you spent satisfying a man’s ego rather than having your needs met, and how you no longer believed there was any real point to sex.

He could hardly believe his beautifully pointed ears.

And while he would normally revel in the opportunity to embarrass someone over being the tragic victim of terrible sex, your case is… different.

You are different.

You stood by his side, even through the disastrous revelation of his condition. More than that, you allowed him to drink from you - a favor he won’t soon forget.

Part of you even enjoyed it.

He felt it the moment he put his mouth on you, the very second his fangs breached the delicate skin of your neck. He felt it all: the subtle hitch in your breath, your little twitches of excitement.

And yet, you asked nothing more of him.

So, what is a friend to do?

It took some insistence - a bit of reassurance that no , offering to bed you properly was not brought about by a sick sense of obligation, nor was it a way to repay you for your kind deeds - but honestly, for the life of him, he doesn’t understand why this feels so damn important - why there's this incessant urge to bring you the release he knows you so desperately need.

Perhaps it's the promise of a challenge - one that pokes at his male pride like a petulant child. It goads him, raising an egotistical brow his way, the knowledge that unlike all the other men you’ve wasted your time with, Astarion could get you off with ease.

He’d pull out all the stops, use every trick in his little black book to reduce you to a quivering, obedient mess. He’d take his time with you - have you wet and pliant, begging beneath his fingers before giving you everything those pretty little lips could ever ask for.

He would ruin you, if you’d allow it.

All you had to do was give him one night. No strings attached.

And yet, here you are, keeping him waiting.

Five, then ten, then 20 minutes pass, and only when he’s about to pack his things - when his growing impatience threatens to twist into a feeling dangerously close to disappointment - does he hear movement behind him.

The rustle of leaves, a snapping twig.

Astarion turns to find you grappling with a particularly thorny bush - your hair a mess, adorned with small sticks. With a frustrated huff, you kick at the plant, muttering under your breath.

You haven’t noticed him yet, too busy fighting to free your foot - and it suddenly occurs to him that your inferior human eyes had to navigate these woods in the dark.

That little detail must have evaded him when he made his proposition, but realizing it now, knowing that you weren't simply wasting the night away, wrestling with the decision of whether to leave him waiting and wanting… sets him at ease.

“You should have been a druid.” he teases.

You freeze, head perking up and swiveling towards the sound of his voice.

“I don’t see why the lot of them insist on camping out in the wilderness,” you huff, “There’s a perfectly fine grove less than a mile from here.”

You finish prying your boot out from the thicket, nearly toppling over in the process. He almost considers helping you, but watching you struggle like a newborn dear is just too amusing to pass up. He’ll make it up to you soon enough.

Making your way toward the clearing, your eyes gradually adjust to the moonlight. They find his gaze, then wander over the pale expanse of his chest, before quickly darting away to focus on the ensemble of blankets.

“Oh. This is… nice.” You remark, gesturing towards the furs, and at first, Astarion assumes you’re mocking him - turning a nose up at his thoughtful efforts.

But when he turns toward you, preparing to make a less-than-savory comment about gratitude, he is instead met with a genuinely surprised, and somewhat irritating, smile.

Just what sort of lovers have you settled for, thinking that this constitutes ‘nice’?

“And you thought I was going to, what,” he scoffs, “Drag you into the cold woods and have my way with you against a tree?”

Your face flames at the suggestion, burning bright red at his boldness, but you don’t deny it.

In fact, his keen ears pick up on the subtle flutter of your heartbeat as soon as the words leave his lips.

That’s all the confirmation he needs.

“Ah,” he purrs, “I see.”

With that, Astarion closes the distance between you, toned arms sliding beneath the firmness of your thighs to lift you with ease. A surprised squeak leaves your mouth as your ankles instinctively lock around his waist.

He takes a few steps forward until the dull edges of bark press into your shoulders.

“Is this what you want?” He punctuates his words with the firm press of his clothed cock against your core, already hardening with interest. It’s almost maddening - how responsive you are, already squirming in his arms when he’s hardly touched you.

His grip tightens on your rear, nails digging into your soft skin.

“Answer me, dear,” he growls, “I want to hear you say it.”

It’s a lie, of sorts. He doesn’t want to hear it - he needs to. Needs you to beg for him, as ridiculous as it feels.

He’s had more lovers than he could count, heard their sweet cries like a symphony of praise, but they fell on deaf, pointed ears compared to this - to your ragged breaths.

“ Say it .”

“ Please , Astarion. I want this -”

As soon as the words leave you, his lips are on yours, hungry and demanding. He sets you down, one hand leaving your thighs to grab at your jaw and tilting it just so - steering your face into a more accessible angle, the tip of his nose finding its place against your flushed cheek.

His other hand snakes its way to the back of your head, twining the soft strands of hair between his fingers, tightening them in his fist and pulling .

The sudden sting elicits a whine, stolen from your parted lips, and he takes the opportunity to run his tongue along the seam, dipping into the inviting heat of your mouth. Notes of cheap, flat wine still linger on your tongue, but he quickly finds he doesn’t mind the taste - barely notices it at all when you're opening up for him so eagerly.

He long expected himself to turn off - to hide behind his practiced movements, allowing his body to do the work for him - to wake up sometime after you’d found your pleasure in him.

But here he remains - his script thrown to the wind while your little sounds of approval hang in the air between you, driving him with a hunger that is wholly unfamiliar.

He wants this, but that realization will come later, when he’s gathering his clothes with the heat of the morning sun at his back, wondering why the idea of leaving you there in the plush grass settles like lead in his stomach.

It’ll wait for him there, hidden behind layers of denial and fear, then follow like a hound biting at his heels for months on end until he makes peace with it - until he chokes on his own tears in the safety of your arms where you’ll welcome him, along with all of his complications.

But for now, he kisses a line down your shoulder, feeling more alive and present with every swipe of his tongue against your collar bone. You sigh, and he pays special attention to the thin skin there, warm and jumping in time with your pulse.

Astarion's deft fingers skillfully unhook the buttons of your shirt with practiced ease. He tears away the offending fabric, and a low growl burns its way out his throat as the last two buttons pop off, landing somewhere in the dirt beside him. You’ll have something to say about that later, he’s sure.

When the morning comes, he’ll notice you searching for them and offer to sew in new ones - more suitable ones, in whichever color you’d prefer. When he hands the shirt back to you just a few hours later, now embroidered and finer than even before his careless blunder, your impressed smile will awaken a fondness in him that will linger naggingly in the corners of his mind for the foreseeable future.

He’ll ruminate on that later, when his mouth isn’t descending on your breasts, and his hands aren’t palming at your newly exposed skin.

Falling to his knees, he works at the laces of your trousers. Then, when the troublesome strings are finally undone, his eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he peels the cloth slowly down the length of your thighs. He takes his time with it, dragging the fabric over your knees and trailing the blunt edge of his nails back up to the curve of your hips, watching intently as the skin prickles beneath his touch.

You wiggle, restless and flushed bright red from your neck to your ears, suddenly avoiding his stare.

It’s a strange, uncharacteristic shyness—until he puts two and two together when he runs his finger over the white lace of your smalls and finds them positively soaked .

“Is this all for me?” he teases, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

His thumb presses knowingly into the wet fabric, petting the skin beneath with practiced pressure.

You don’t answer - you can’t - with your head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, too busy rocking mindlessly into his touch.

Well, that certainly won’t do.

A hard slap lands on the inside of your thigh, jolting you to attention. The responding hitch in your breath goes straight to his cock.

“I asked you a question, darling. Is this all for me?”

“I - agh , yes.”

“ Very good,” he purrs, satisfied, “Now, spread these for me.”

You obey, parting your legs and giving him more space to work with. He tugs at your pants, quickly ridding you of them, then goes back to work kneading lazy, unhurried circles into the thin, sticky, wet fabric. It clings to your skin so perfectly, outlining your form for him as if you were wearing nothing at all.

You're panting above him now - small, rushed breaths suspended in the charged air. The muscles of your thighs twitch with each pass of his thumb over your clit.

And again, you’re not looking at him - head turned to the side and whispering curses quietly to yourself.

Another slap to your thigh, then - the same one, because he’s cruel - now marked with the vivid red imprint of his hand.

“Eyes on me,” he commands.

When your eyes meet his again, they’re hooded and glossy, filled with a familiar haze.

Lust .

He’s got you now.

Pulling the now thoroughly ruined garment to the side, Astarion rewards you by dragging a finger through your folds, watching your arousal drip down his wrist. It practically drools out of you, coating the rest of his digits, slickening his palm as he presses one into your entrance.

Your hands instinctively fly to his hair, settling atop the tousled, white strands, and your body takes him in greedily .

Astarion smiles to himself.

This feels… good - being so in control, pulling little pleasured sounds from your lips. His pride swells as he adds another finger. You buckle forward, letting out a strangled groan, losing yourself to the feeling of being stretched - being prepped for him and every inch of cock he has to give you, sitting impatiently hard and neglected in his trousers.

He pumps in and out of you, slowly at first, but it only takes a few short moments before your impatient squirming turns into a mindless, needy grind. Each small thrust forward has your body taking him deeper, clenching him tighter until he can feel you throbbing around his fingers.

There’s a level of self indulgence here that he would deny if questioned - perhaps even under oath - but the wholly unnecessary way he pauses to tear the fabric of your smallclothes would quickly betray him.

Your squeak of surprise is all he hears before the press of your thighs deafens him - and if he was naive enough to believe that your blood was the most enticing thing he’s tasted in the last two centuries, it pales in comparison to the mess you’ve made for him.

An anguished hum escapes him as he drags his tongue through your folds - so hoarse and strained with disbelief, it almost sounds more animal than man.

He drinks you in, letting up for only as long as it takes to press tender, soothing kisses into your clit, sucking gently at the nub before dipping his tongue back into your hole for seconds, thirds -

This is madness . How someone could pass up this opportunity is far beyond him. Your fist in his hair, surrounded by your pulse as it thrums within the warm, pillowy skin of your thighs, the way you chase your release, rocking into his mouth and coating his chin with your slick, is everything .

It is everything.

In the cornered haze of his mind, he almost regrets his promises. Had he known it would be like this, that you’d be the first and only memorable partner he’s had in the last two centuries, he may have reconsidered.

Hells, he should have reconsidered the moment his tongue slipped into your mouth and you had the gall to taste that fucking sweet - to be that damned responsive .

How is he supposed to play this off as if it changes nothing - as if this means nothing at all?

“Shit, Astarion -”

Pesky details. He’ll have to sort those out later.

“I’m - I think I’m close -”

Astarion is a smart man - smart enough to know that the best course of action here, when you’re on the precipice of coming apart, is to simply redouble his efforts and continue on as he has been. No special trick up his sleeve, no overly indulgent stylized movements, just sucking as gently and generously as you need. He applies the same steady, circular pressure of his tongue, curls his fingers and fucks you with them in a steady, calculated rythm, until -

The moment you fall apart will be forever burned into his mind.

He will remember it all: the twitching of your thighs, the tight pinch of your brows, the sound of your cries as your hips stutter in his strong hold. He’ll remember the way he moans, earnestly, as he laps you through it, eager to extend your high for as long as your body allows him. And he will surely remember the thrill that runs up the length of his spine at the sight of you losing yourself at his hand.

But most of all, he will remember the moment immediately after - when your movements slow, and your tight grip loosens from his hair; when your warm hand falls to the side of his face, the soft pads of your fingertips rubbing gentle circles into the shell of his pointed ear.

You may not have even noticed the small gesture, too blissed out and trembling, but when the two of you look back on this moment years from now, Astarion will laugh at how blind he was - how he should have seen the spark of fondness in your eyes as you fought to catch your breath, the kindling that was twisting in his chest at the sight of your flushed skin, and the fire that would grow there until it nearly consumed him.

He should have known that this was the start of something greater.

But at this moment, all he knows is the sudden, inexplicable urge to keep you here tonight - to prove himself worthy of coming back, should you ever have an itch that needs scratching. Perhaps tomorrow, or the next night, or any other time you’d see fit.

Astarion places a final kiss on the junction of your hip, right where the skin is thinnest above the bone, then leans back to fully appreciate his work.

You are breathless , chest heaving from sheer exertion.

“That was…”

You huff out a laugh as you try to find the right words.

“Perfect?” he raises an eyebrow at you, grin tugging at the corner of his lips, “I know. Like I said, I’m quite good at this.”

He wipes at the clear slick on his chin and shamelessly licks his hand clean, sucking your mess off his fingers with a playful pop.

Your face flushes with embarrassment - the pretty color now matching the puffy, reddened skin of your sex.

“Do you want more?” he asks, as if his cock isn’t threatening to leak a dark patch into his trousers, “We don’t have to, of course, but -”

“Yes.”

Astarion’s smiles are normally calculated - purposeful, and poised to perfection, but the one that finds its way to his face at your eagerness is as real as the ache beginning to bloom in his knees.

“Come here, then,” he says, dragging his weight back to the blankets. He doesn’t even have the time to readjust the decorative pillows before you’re clamoring on top of him, covering his neck with impatient kisses and helping him remove his clothes.

“Eager, are we?” he teases, but he’s met with no response. Your mouth is too busy sucking bruises into the pale, hard planes of his chest, hands working diligently at the laces of his pants.

The moment his legs and cock are free, Astarion wastes no time wrapping his arms around your midsection and seating you perfectly on his hips, the searing heat of your slit molds around him, dragging up and down as you grind against his length.

There’s urgency in the air - in the way your mouth finds his own. It buzzes and hums, growing with every pass of your hips, prickling like burrs beneath his skin. He’s as much a victim of it as you are -here in this little corner of the wilderness - to the strange and unrecognizable pull.

This desire to touch you.

With one hand anchoring the back of your neck, he takes his length with the other, notching himself at your entrance - an invitation you eagerly accept.

You sink down, enveloping him in suffocating heat .

The grunt that escapes him is entirely involuntary - the honesty behind it bleeding out between his teeth, escaping with a hiss.

“Shit,” he huffs under his breath, willing his brain to focus on anything other than how you mold so perfectly to him. It’s almost like you were made for this - for him - and the notion itself is almost enough to toss him right over the edge.

It’s hard enough to believe he’s present with you, here in this moment, rather than falling into oblivion and allowing the act to pass him by.

But to be enjoying it this much?

Sheer disbelief.

Your hips move experimentally, sighing with relief as you take the rest of him down to the hilt. His grip on the nape of your neck tightens, nails digging small grooves into the base of your scalp. The slow rock of your hips as you adjust to his size would surely be enough to finish him, were he any ordinary man - were he not determined to brand this night into your mind for the rest of whatever time you have left on this earth - tadpoles be damned.

It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re not supposed to be like this, melding so beautifully around his length. But he has appearances to maintain, and spilling into you now would surely ruin his carefully crafted reputation, so he steals what’s left of his composure and continues on.

Astarion stares at where your bodies meet, bringing a practiced thumb back to your perfect little nub and pressing . The delicious pressure has your forehead falling to his shoulder.

“Can I - agh, ” you pause as he cruelly begins to rub your clit, much too slow to actually finish the job, but just enough to feel you clench around him. He continues like that for a few seconds, savoring the way you grip, release, and start to dribble down from where he’s rooted so deeply inside.

“Can you what, my dear?”

“Can I move, please?”

“Hm,” he sighs with feigned indifference, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

His hands guide you into a comfortable rhythm, stroking your walls and filling every inch of your greedy cunt as it swallows him up - back and forth, rocking into him until you’re good and split open.

You ride him until your legs begin to fail you - until he has to grab your waist to keep you steady as he fucks up into you in earnest. The hard, wet slap of his damp skin against yours mixes with your strained, desperate moans. He pounds you like he’s sating some sort of hunger - fucks you with so much force that your slick forms a thick white ring of cream at the base of his cock.

His thumb rubs expert circles into your clit with firm, gentle pressure, until he feels that telltale fluttering of your walls around him, and your blunt nails are digging into where his shoulders meet his chest.

“You’re close again, aren’t you?” he grunts, and the question is met only with an affirmative whine. “Good. This time, I want to feel it.”

His hands move to your rear, squeezing and kneading - pulling and pushing your hips to grind himself even deeper into you until your body gives up its orgasm.

It drags you under like a raging current.

You wail pitifully against his shoulder - the suffocating grip of your sex working to milk him dry, gushing around him and soaking his thick cock as he relentlessly fucks you through it.

It's almost enough to end him, it truly is, but Astarion is nothing if not thorough, and G ods be damned if you leave this clearing tomorrow morning without your cunt permanently molded to his shape - without this encounter seared into your very being.

His arms wrap around you, pulling your chest tight against his own and turning you over until your back meets the soft furs - his hips rolling into yours as the waves of white-hot pleasure pulse through you.

There will be many more where that came from. When you eventually crawl back to his tent with a shy gaze and offer him another taste of your neck, pretending it was simply a coincidence that you waited until the dead of night to seek him out, when the rest of your merry little troup were fast asleep in their bedrolls. Couldn’t stay away? He’ll joke, pretending as though his heart doesn’t stir at the sight of you.

He’ll bed you again, and again, and again. Whenever and wherever you should ask: on his desk - tomes shoved carelessly to the ground, between the cracked stone walls of a cave while the others ready their gear, tangled within the sheets of the first real bed you happen to find. He’ll fuck you in those stolen moments with a willing mouth and hands and cock, however many times it takes for him to realize this does mean something to him - even if he isn’t quite sure what that something is .

And you, being the perfect thing you are, will be patient, and give him the space he needs to figure that out.

“One more,” he whispers hot against your cheek, “I think we can get one more out of you.”

“This is insane. How are you so - gods, ” he’s got just the right angle now, dragging languidly in and out of your thoroughly fucked hole.

He’s done quite a number on you already, and you’ll likely need a day to recover the strength in your legs. The others will surely mock you for it, but perhaps you’ll manage to blame it on the hangover?

“Astarion, I - I don’t think I can do another -”

“You can,” he says with the confidence of a man who’s done this before - one who knows the limits of a woman’s body and exactly how to push them. “And you’re going to stay right here, wrapped beautifully around my cock, until you give me what I want.”

He drives the point home with a sudden, hard thrust, and the rush of it has you keening in surprise, hands flying to his back and heels digging in for purchase.

In fairness, he’s hardly given you a chance to come down from the last climax, but you sought him out tonight. You knew what you were getting into, no less than a mouse offering itself to a cat. He’ll toy with you until he’s had his fill - the first man in your life to ever make you come apart. Not just once or twice, but three times once he’s through with you.

And while the third takes a bit more work, as expected, he quickly realizes you appreciate a decent amount of force, so he feverishly pounds into you - pinning your wrists at your sides to prevent too much useless, unnecessary squirming.

Astarion thinks could get addicted to this level of control if he isn’t careful - his brave, unwavering, diplomatic leader held captive beneath him as he wrings every last bit of pleasure from your body, drunk on his cock and fucked out well past the point of any decorum.

The way you moan for him now would put some prostitutes to shame - eyes glazed over and thoughts entirely wiped of anything other than being split open and thoroughly used.

It reminds him of why he’s here. The thankless months you’ve spent worrying yourself over every vagrant’s problems are now practically a thing of the past. And after tonight, you’ll surely be ruined for any other man, securing himself in your good graces. A win, win, all around.

Your orgasm almost sneaks past him, too caught up in his own musings to notice, but the subtle rush of slickness and the resounding sound of your body sucking him in even deeper gives it away. Your head rolls to the side as you choke back a sob, tears forming the corners of your eyes as your exhausted cunt barely manages to scrounge up the effort to squeeze him, and that’s when he finally decides you’ve had enough.

“Where do you want me?” he asks.

“Inside? Agh - Inside, please, ”

Oh.

An unexpected answer, but not an unwelcome one.

And so, he does.

For the first time in his memory, he comes entirely apart.

With a few more strokes, he spills inside of you, and the sheer impact of it takes him by surprise.

Hissing between his gritted teeth and buried in your warmth he floods you to the brim, floods every inch of your cunt until his come has no more room to fill. The spend clings to his cock with every stroke, drooling out of you and tracing a cloudy white line through the valley of your rear before soaking into the blankets beneath.

Astarion heaves like a man with functioning lungs, groans from the sudden, noticeable soreness in his limbs, and actually, truly laughs at the absurdity of it all.

Just how long had the two of you been at this? Over an hour, surely?

He’s about to ask you - maybe try his hand at a bit of pillow talk for the first time in his life - but when he looks back at your face, he finds that you’re barely conscious, just on the precipice of passing out from exhaustion.

He pulls out of you, trying his best not to grunt through the overstimulating drag of your skin against his.

Astarion could count on one hand how many memorable encounters he’s had since the beginning of his servitude, and even less when considering how many he enjoyed.

Well, enjoyed would be a very generous descriptor. More so, how many he was able to stomach until the end. And while his anatomy was capable of producing results despite his head being elsewhere, this was… different.

You are different - that much was clear from the beginning, since the moment you forgave him for pulling a knife on you and, for whatever reason, trusted him enough to allow him to stay with you, despite it being an objectively stupid thing to do.

He’ll tell you as much, when he finally confesses his feelings for you. That had it not been for your endless patience and your unfathomable kindness, he may have never learned to love at all.

But he wont have the words, let alone the maturity , to articulate that for quite some time.

For now, here you are, snoring softly beneath him.

And here he is, with the beginnings of a strange, unrecognizable tingling in his chest.

What ever will he do with you?

#bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion acunin #astarion fanfic #astarion/reader #my fics #mine if only for the night #posting this and then walking the fuck away from my computer

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katherinearandez · 7 months

Text

I don’t think Tessa is one of the good guys

I have a lot of questions about Tessa. What are her goals? Is she really on copper 9 for the reasons she told us in episode 6? Does she have hidden motives, and if so, what are they???

The lines of “morality” in this show are super squiggly, so by “good guy”, I mean an individual with positive or helpful intent toward the main characters - in this case, drones. The concept of Tessa bearing ill-intent for drones as a ‘species’ seemed contradictory at first: after all, she’s so nice to N, V and J, right? We’re talking about someone who, as a kid, saved zombie drones from the dump(cough, mass grave, cough) where their human owners left them to rot after creating them by means of improper disposal. Why would she want to kill drones? Especially in the same callous, procedurally improper ways that created the threat of Cyn to start out with?

Well…

Let’s not forget about the evil AI that massacred her family and the guests of their gala. AFTER Tessa took her in as an act of kindness, against her parents wishes. Parents who did seem to look down on her pretty severely, regularly chained her up in her room as punishment(you don’t install heavy duty, floor anchored chains for the occasional time out) and possibly kept her socially isolated???

That last point is pretty speculative, since a lot about the earth of N’s flashbacks screams post-apocalyptic vibes. Maybe there just aren’t a lot of humans left for Tessa to socialize with. Tessa’s dad reinforces this idea in his speech by listing “currently being alive” as an attribute the Elliots are known for. It could just as well be a meta joke(since they are killed in the next few seconds), so lacking more context, I hesitate to extrapolate from this point alone.

Anywho, back to Tessa’s callous drone murder. Even if her parents were crappy by the usual standards, she clearly didn’t want them/the other gala guests to die. She tried to save them by “murdering her a robo-child”. Idk, does this blacked out redacted image of Tessa in the aftermath of the massacre seem upset??

Reasonable assumption. So adult/older teen Tessa has changed the way she feels about drones after these traumatic events. Maybe she doesn’t outright hate them, but she views them from a colder, more pragmatic angle than she did in her younger years. Does she still feel empathy for them and the horrible mistreatment they suffer at the hands of humans? Probably. But she’s now aware of the danger they truly pose and has good reason to eliminate them to ensure the absolute solver mutation no longer has a pool of hosts in which to spread and evolve.

So why the callous drone murder at the end of episode 3? We know you’re supposed to follow a 2 step procedure for decommissioning drones. Software death via lethal injection of a kill program(sounds fun!), followed by hardware death via “core removal” to ensure the decommissioned drone doesn’t reboot with corrupted software and an “increased chance for future errors”.

Did she hastily kill this random drone to keep her arrival on copper 9 secret, foregoing procedure for the sake of urgency? If so, who is she keeping her presence secret from? Is it the remaining drone population of copper 9, who Cyn used to collapse the planet core and kill all humans there? Possibly, Uzi is a prime example of anti-human sentiment, and during Mr Doorman’s parent-teacher conference he mentioned being on a “kill all humans kick when he was her age”. Perhaps Tessa assumes all the c9 worker drones are hostile to humans.

When you start making assumptions about what characters are assuming, it’s generally a good time to stop and just accept you don’t have the answers 🫠 so that’s where I will cut that line of questioning short. That being said, I’m not quite done yet…

What’s with this shelf of small human skulls in Tessa’s room? Why are the trash robots she “rescues” her only friends? Do her parents chain her up in her room because they suck? Or… do they have reasons not yet revealed to us, the audience?

Tessa’s perception among most of the fan base is fairly positive and on the surface there’s good reason for this. She’s presented as peppy, compassionate(except toward that one worker drone, lmao), ~tenacious~ and resilient. Actions like salvaging drones from the dump and perceived displays of affection and warmth for the disassembly drones leave viewers with the impression that she’s a good, kind person.

There is, however, another light in which to view her actions, and it casts a shadow on the motives we may have assumed were pure up to this point.

While it’s easy to parse Tessa saving drones from the dump as an act of altruism, it can also be interpreted as sinister. It could be an example of a character with a savior complex; a power dynamic wherein the “savior” exerts control over those they “rescue” by taking advantage of their gratitude and using it in manipulative ways. If this is the case, Tessa’s motives take a sharp left turn, flipping from selfless and kind to egotistical and controlling.

The show actually gives us direct evidence of Tessa using manipulation to get her drones to do her bidding.

“It wants paid time off…”

This instance of her using corporate buzzwords to drive J into a rage strong enough for her to bite through metal chains. Or how about her outright lying to the drones at the start of episode 6? Asserting that her intention was to “burn to the ground” labs Cyn was interested in, while later that same episode revealing to N that her “true” purpose was to obtain a list of drones infected with the absolute solver?

Preeetty manipulative. She manipulated and/or coerced Doll as well, in order to obtain the keybug. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if come episode 7, she switches it up yet again, revealing a new manipulation or perhaps, finally, her real mission.

Tessa’s manipulation of the drones she supposedly cares about isn’t the only hint that she might have a savior complex or similar egocentric tendencies. She’s also shown that she’s not very respectful of the drones autonomy, another red flag that can signal a propensity for narcissism and the controlling behaviors associated with it.

N is the example this time.

Tessa’s signature greeting for N, which is to grab his face and swing him around with excitement that borders on aggression. Maybe it’s just me, but his expression doesn’t suggest it’s mutually enjoyed. Looks more to me like he’s uncomfortable and only humoring her pep because he feels like he has no choice… after all, none of Tessa’s “dumpster pets” want to let down their saving grace.

We see this same kind of contact again throughout episode 6, with Tessa grabbing N’s face as a greeting again, and also playing with his hair on the way down to cabin fever labs. The way Tessa interacts with the drones(J and V as well as N) shows that she sees them as objects in her possession, rather than friends, peers or their own individuals with unique thoughts, wants and feelings.

Uzi even calls her out on this very mindset at the end of episode 6 after Tessa asks her sardonically to “don’t date my robot, please.”

Granted, I’ve got no solid backing, just observation, speculation and a suspicious mind. Tessa could be a great person… “good” or “bad” though, she’ll definitely try to kill our main character sometime soon, so… yup. Killing even an anti-hero typically slots you into the bad guy category, even in a show where the moral lines between good and evil are so artfully blurred.

TLDR; I think there’s more to Tessa than meets the eye, and even though Cyn is still probably Murder Drones “big bad”, I feel like Tessa has an element of villainy to her that I hope will be further explored in canon.

#murder drones #uzi doorman #tessa james elliot #theory #serial designation n #serial designation j #serial designation v

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