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#hello how do I muscle???
abyssalpriest · 10 months
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Honestly people want to see "godphone" and spirit communication as a scale from absolutely nothing, to glimpses of impulses, to individual words, to hearing sentences but not like physical hearing, to hearing them like youre in the same room...
But not only is that line missing the fact that theres MULTIPLE routes to go from nothing to physical-esque sound, like... The way I tune into the astral is so unlike physical vision but still very vivid and theres an equivalent with hearing, and im sure theres plenty other ways to get Vivid Messages.... but also theres visions and synesthesia-esque responses to talking, visions themselves are language, other senses exist...
.... not only that... its also just so much more a spectrum. Its not "nothing" to "vivid" in a line, its in a damn spider diagram of nothing to vivid in terms of channelling words, sounds, instincts, physicality (your body feeling like its theirs, for instance when Leviathan is heavily over he often gets weirded out when he sees my body because he forgets hes not in his, or he'll vividly feel like hes lying in a reptilian body but its actually... a squishy human...), habits, but ALSO things like morality, ingrained opinions such as shit like racial and war-informed ones, things like colour visibility and colourblindness, the SPIRIT's abilities to see other planes, their senses, their world knowledge/awareness (things like historical truths are in a weird place between knowledge and instinct), their muscle memory (used for drawings etc), etc
like. all these things are constantly needing to be addressed and funnelled. You may get a spirits words over beautifully, but then they may have your phobias or prejudices blocking out theirs. You may channel their art style over so well, but then you cant hear anything they say... You may have them over and they forget theyre in your body because youre so in tune and theyre talking like themselves in their language that you dont know, but then they see someone you know and react like you.... etc etc
And channelling is a two-way street. The channelled spirits ability to be channelled is also at play. Are they better at drawing to express themselves than talking, even if they CAN and DO speak? Probably ends up contributing a lot to the situation of being able to get this art style across but not the words. etc etc. i dont need to keep ranting
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computerboyboobs · 9 months
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nocturnowlette · 5 months
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If you wanna feel like a puppy for a bit, read this. Trust me.
Hello. There's a fun little visualization and focus exercise you can do to feel a bit more fluffy/fuzzy for a bit, if you'd like to follow along, but read slowly and in a private environment (preferably lying down). Focus on my words and read them carefully, as if you're listening to someone speak them.
In fact, I'd like to teach you something neat about focus.
Us creatures have quite a powerful sense of focus, however, most of the time, it's distributed to everything around us at once. We need to focus on our surroundings, our task in front of us, the music we're listening to, the senses we're feeling, and on and on. However, there are times where our focus gets directed entirely on just one thing.
Most of the time, the word we have for this is "immersion". Those times where everything around you seems to disappear and you find yourself lost in some world. In those moments, nearly your entire mind is focused on just one thing. As a result, you feel the things you're immersed into quite strongly.
Focus on your right hand. See how easy that is? Suddenly, you can isolate that specific part of your body very, very easily.
Focus on your left foot.
Your neck.
Your hair.
Your left forearm.
Both of your calves.
All of your fingers and toes.
Now just your pinky fingers.
Not only is our focus quite powerful, but it can be directed, not just you, but by others. This is a concept used in many things, but among them is meditation, guided meditation, hypnosis, and self-hypnosis.
What you may find interesting about hypnosis, specifically, is that one of the best ways to direct that focus is through visualization.
Focus on your head.
Now your forehead.
Now your brain.
Your brain is where the magic happens. If you read my words, and if you focus on your mind, you might find that it's hard to think your own thoughts while you're reading something. I've been guiding your focus for so long already that it is very, very easy to focus on my words.
With this newfound focus, it's quite easy to let my words relax you. Let's, for example, imagine that your body is turning into liquid.
Focus on your feet and calves.
You notice that they feel quite tired. They're so used to being flexed, being tense, but you have no need for that right now. Focus on the muscles in your calves. Feel them melt, a bit. So long as you're following what I say, you're doing it correctly. The tension you are so used to easily relaxes, and relaxes, and relaxes. It melts more and more.
Focus on your thighs.
The liquid seems to be spreading upwards. Your thighs relax effortlessly. They melt, and melt, and melt. So effortless.
With every bit of tension that disappears, feel your focus on my words only get more intense.
Focus on your hips, and stomach. They relax even easier than your legs. They melt so easily.
The feeling spreads up through your chest to your shoulders. They melt so easily. Like gravity is simply pulling all of the tension right out.
Every part of your mind and body is directed to me.
The feeling spreads to your arms, normally so active. Its so tiring to move them around all day. Feel them melt for me. Everything below the neck is turning into a melted, gooey mass.
Focus on your hands. You will need these to scroll. They move automatically whenever you need to scroll further, and every time you do so is just more proof that you want to focus on my words.
You only get more and more fixated on my every word.
All of this focus can be a lot for your brain to handle. Your brain feels dense, heavy from all of your focus being pushed up, up to the top of your body. Don't you feel so heavy? You'll find that you can hardly keep your head up the more you read, holding it just high enough to keep reading. It's all you want to do right now. Your focus is mine.
With all this pressure on your brain, it may start to feel very, very tired. Being so, so focused on me is a lot on your mind. You might feel that liquid creep up, up into your head. It rises up through the neck, up through the bottom of your skull, filling higher and higher and higher, up up and up until it has finally filled your skull completely, It's surrounding your mind.
Focus even more on my words.
This liquid seems to melt everything it touches. Normally, your mind would be strong enough to protect itself, but it seems too preoccupied on me. The liquid starts to find it's way in.
You feel your mind begin to melt.
The walls of your brain soften, the wrinkles so easily disappearing. The liquid seeps in through every tiny crack, and your brain gets heavier and heavier. So heavy. Your thoughts can't seem to stay together. Some try to pop up, but they're already surrounded. They melt so easily. All of your thoughts melt so easily.
Feel your mind melt more and more.
Focus on how hard it is to think.
Focus on how heavy you feel.
Focus on my every word completely and absolutely.
The next time I say the word "Melt", your mind will be completely gone. Your heaviness will double, and your focus will grow even stronger. Your entire being will devote itself to my words.
Mind collapsing,
filling with liquid,
thoughts disappearing,
nothing left,
Melt.
...
This is a mental state called trance. It feels nice, doesn't it? So hard to think. You don't want to think. So dumb. You love that.
You began reading this to be a puppy, a dumb little puppy. That's adorable.
Bark for me, in your head or out loud.
Good puppy.
You were so eager to feel this way, so fuzzyminded. Your brain is just a big pile of fuzz, just like the rest of you. Too fuzzy to think anything but puppy thoughts.
Bark again.
Good puppy.
Every time you bark, your mind just gets fuzzier and happier.
Bark.
Good puppy.
Every time you're told "Good puppy." you feel so happy, so so happy that you're following orders. Every time you hear it, you feel your ears perk up and feel so, so happy and so, so dumb.
It can be from me, from your owner, or from anyone you trust.
Bark.
Good puppy.
And just like that, you're trained.
Bark.
Good puppy.
You just wanna bark your mind away.
Bark.
Bark.
Bark.
Good puppy.
Good puppies follow orders from their owners. it's what puppies do. You want to be a Good Puppy, right? Of course you do.
Bark your mind away.
Good puppy.
...
I will bring you back up from trance in a moment, but you are allowed to stop reading here for as long as you wish. You can leave here and will eventually rise out of trance, but slowly. You'll feel happy and very very dumb. If you have an owner, you'll message them and act like the cute puppy you are. Or, you can just lie down and live in this feeling. Once you're ready to come back up, read ahead.
...
Focus is quite easy to return to normal. In fact, it's natural. I will count up from the numbers 1 to 10, and return every bit of your mind and body back to you. Once I say "Wake Up", you will feel completely returned to normal. Let's begin.
1.
Feel your brain begin to reform, thoughts becoming possible again.
2.
Feel your mind solidify, able to think now, but finding it very hard.
3.
Feel your body start to solidify again, feeling your muscles return to normal.
4.
The liquid drains out of your mind, giving your thoughts some room to breathe and connect, and making your brain feel lighter.
5.
You find it easy to move your legs again. Move them.
6.
You find it even easier to move your stomach, chest, and shoulders.
7.
You're becoming more and more aware of your surroundings.
8.
Your arms become easy and light to move.
9.
Mind speeding up, up, and up. Feeling happy and refreshed. Your head becoming so, so light.
10.
Wake up.
...
Welcome back. I hope that was both fun and informative. This was a bit of an experiment, so I am genuinely curious if it was effective. If it's not too much to ask, perhaps reblog this with a comment on how it felt. Or just bark, puppy. I'd be happy either way.
I do hypnosis stuff, puppy stuff, and anything else I wish. Follow if you're interested.
Regardless, have a nice day.
Update: I have two new scripts currently.
If you want to enter a Puppy Mindset whenever you wish, read this post. I assure you that it's worth it.
If you wanna fall into a puppy mind space much, much easier from now (especially to me), read this post.
Enjoy~
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moonstruckme · 5 months
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James being a big bear of a boyfriend and always just like lifting u up so easily to hug and sit on his lap and even tho u hate when anyone else does it he’s so BEEFY that you’re fine with him doing it
Yessssss I'm not much of a physical touch person irl but James I would allow
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 847 words
Sirius is trying to follow Remus’ example and focus on the puzzle, but his eyes keep flitting up to you worriedly. You’ve monopolized the couch, laying flat with a hand cast over your eyes and your mouth pinched in obvious discomfort. He’d tried rubbing your calf and Remus had offered you tea, but they’d both given up when the attention only seemed to worsen your mood. Remus suggested they work on the puzzle while you rest (not Sirius’ favorite activity, but forced upon him because it keeps him quiet) and now they’re both simply trying not incur your wrath. 
“Quit looking at me,” you growl without opening your eyes. 
In Sirius’ case, not doing a very good job. 
“Fine, sheesh,” he says, and you press your lips together like you’re restraining yourself from snapping at him. 
You cringe when the door opens, every line of you pulling taut. James is all smiles as he tosses his gym bag to the floor with a heavy thump. “Hello, my loves!” His voice is a decibel short of booming, but it softens when he sees you on the couch. “Oh, sorry, is she napping?” 
Remus shakes his head, lips pursed as he watches your hand tighten over your eyes. “Headache,” he explains quietly. 
“Oh, I’m sorry lovie.” James reroutes from the kitchen, heading for you. Sirius tenses. “How bad is it?” 
“Prongs,” Sirius whispers urgently, “don’t—”
But James has already lifted you, one hand under your knees and another supporting your back as he moves you smoothly from your chosen position of rest and into his lap. He makes it look like nothing, which is the first offense (Sirius isn’t sure which of you he’s more jealous of), but the second is that you let him. Sirius and Remus have both looked up in alarm, waiting for a biting protest that doesn’t come. Instead, you remove your hand from your face, burying in it James’ brawny shoulder instead. 
“Bad,” you grumble, but your tone lacks the venom you’d spat at Sirius a moment before. 
James coos like he’s got a kitten in his lap instead of a viper, bringing his considerable arms around you. His palm cups the back of your neck, kneading gently at the tensed muscles there. “Where does it hurt, darling?” 
“Everywhere.” 
“By your eyes?” 
“No.” 
He hums, brows furrowing as he works steadily at your neck. You’ve gone nearly lax in his arms, trusting him to hold you up as you slump against his front. “Have you been drinking water?” 
“It’s not that.” Some of the irritation is back in your tone, Sirius notices, but it’s been markedly softened for James. “I had tons of water this morning.” 
“Probably a tension headache then, yeah?” He looks to Remus, who nods. The quiet boy looks as dumbstruck as Sirius feels. 
James moves his grip to your sides and lifts you again, rearranging his legs to get more comfortable before placing you back in his lap. He places a hand on each side of your head, thumbs pushing into your temples and rubbing in slow, soothing circles. You begin to look like you might fall asleep.
“This is so unfair,” Sirius hisses to Remus. 
“He has a power,” Remus admits weakly, “which transcends understanding.” 
“Do you want some tea?” James murmurs to you after a while. Sirius’ eyes have gotten stuck watching the movement of his forearms, and he snaps them reluctantly back up. 
You hum, uncertain but definitely considering it. Behind you, Remus throws up his hands. James sees him and smiles, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. 
“I’m getting the sense this isn’t the first cup you’ve been offered,” he says, looking immensely entertained. 
You sigh, but even that sounds pleasurable as his big thumbs drill diligently into your temples. “Yeah, but I just wanted to be left alone.” 
Remus and Sirius exchange a look. You seem perfectly fine with company now. 
“Don’t be silly,” James chides lightly, “a warm drink will make you feel better. Remus, love, would you be so kind as to make her a cup?” 
“Sure.” His voice is gruff, but then you murmur a quiet thanks, Rem and Sirius actually sees the moment his heart turns to mush. “No problem,” he says, softer now. 
“Attagirl.” James’ hand drops to give your shoulder a squeeze, his bicep flexing slightly with the movement. Christ, Sirius might have to fake a headache later, if this is the sort of treatment those receive. “Drink your tea and then we’ll get you to bed, yeah? You can sleep the rest of this off.” 
“You know, I offered to carry her to bed earlier,” Sirius says, still slightly bitter, “and she told me very clearly to fuck off.” 
You don’t sound so much exasperated now as exhausted. “Siri, when you carrying me doesn’t involve setting me down every five steps for a break, then we’ll talk.” 
James’ laugh surprises both of you, and he apologizes hastily for jostling you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before resuming his ministrations. You don’t seem all that upset about it.
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froggibus · 7 months
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Not Done Yet - Wriothesley
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Pairing: Wriothesley x f! reader (reader has a pussy + uses fem pronouns)
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: your boyfriend will do anything to keep you from moving to the Overworld
CW: dubcon, breeding, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, fingering, wall sex, dry humping, doggystyle, mating press, lots of dirty talk, praise + degradation, use of ‘good girl’, dom! Wriothesley, semi feral wriothesley , possessiveness, arguing
hello welcome to this episode of kinktober where the Wriothesley brainrot continues. the minute I met this man in game it was just absolutely over for me and I had SO many thoughts of him and ugh. hope you guys like it <3
Kinktober Masterlist
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“You want to do what?”
It’s hard not to cower under your boyfriend’s gaze when his eyes have become so chilly. His voice has taken on an angry edge, a ball of electricity forming in your tummy. 
You swallow hard and point your chin. “I want to move.” 
He raises an eyebrow at you, taking a step closer. It’s times like these that you realize how much bigger he is than you, how much more powerful he is than you. The air takes on a bitter cold. 
“Away from here, I mean,” you add, turning your gaze to the dangling chandelier of his office and the warm light it emits. 
“To the Overworld. You want to move to the Overworld and abandon the life you have here.” His voice booms, “you have a home here, y/n. You have me here. And you want to throw it all away so you can work like a dog until the day you die?”
You scoff. “So I can have a real life, Wriothesley. A chance at some normalcy. To get a normal job and have normal food and—and have a family.”
He looks taken aback at your final sentence. The gears in his head turn, slowly processing this. You’ve never talked about having kids before, not with him. Sure, you’re not always the most careful about using protection, but he never thought that would be something that you want. 
He steps forward again, backing you up only inches from the wall. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, “you’re not leaving me. You can’t.” 
You shiver, though you’re not sure if it’s from the cold air or from the dark look in his eyes. You stare at him defiantly, though every instinct tells you to look away from him. 
You can see your breath when you speak. “I can and I will.”
Wrong answer. 
In an instant, he has you pinned against the wall, one hand with a bruising grip on your hip, the other snaking around your throat. 
His eyes darken as he smashes his lips against yours. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, the sudden pain making you gasp. He slips his tongue between your lips and you suck instinctually. 
He slides his hand down from your hip and under your thigh, lifting it up to his side. He thrusts you against the wall, groaning into your mouth. You whine against him, raising your leg higher to give the growing bulge in his pants easier access to your aching core. 
“Why would you ever wanna leave this, hm?”
His words snap you out of your trance, your hands trailing up to his chest to shove him off of you. Heat surges through your body, your head spinning as if the world is rocking beneath you. 
You take a deep breath and gather your bearings. “We’re not done arguing, Wriothesley.”
“I am,” he pushes you against the wall, using his size to his advantage. He presses himself against your back so that you can feel every twitch of his muscles, every rise and fall of his chest. 
His hands go to your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh. He grinds himself against you, hard bulge nestling between your legs. 
He digs his teeth into your neck, sharp canines grazing the sensitive skin. He gives a rough, playful thrust, and a moan slips out between your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment taking over. 
He gently sucks at the spot he just bit. “That’s what I thought,” he says in that familiar, commanding voice—the one he uses to break up prison riots, or convince you to let him chain you to the bed. 
He slips a hand between your legs to cup your throbbing core, feeling the heat overflowing from your pussy. Another whine slips out, your knees shaking in anticipation, threatening to give out. 
He tightens his grip on your hip to hold you still, his other hand furiously rubbing your clit through the fabric of your pants. You arch your back, letting your knees spread apart to give him easier access. He pulls his hand away and smacks your ass, laughing at the soft moan it elicits. 
He wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you back to rub against his cock. You brace yourself against the wall with your hands, leaning forwards with your hand down. He thrusts against you, hard cock grinding against the fabric of his own jeans. 
His other hand slips into the waistband of your pants, trailing down to your soaking panties. He runs a finger along your slit, “god, you’re absolutely dripping.”
You hide your face in your arm against the wall, shaking your head in shame. Wriothesley laughs, pushing his hand into your panties and running it between your lips. You look so cute when you’re writhing beneath him and hiding your face. He can’t wait to see how cute you’ll look when he has your eyes rolling back. 
He rubs steady circles on your clit, your pussy only gushing with more slick as he touches you. You push back against him with every moan, rubbing your ass onto his aching hard on. 
He leans over you, pressing himself against you completely. His lips hover just below your ear, “hm, pretty girl. So nice and wet.”
He dips a finger inside of you, just barely prodding your entrance with the thick tip. Shockwaves rush through you, your hips jutting out with a mind of their own, your pussy clamping down around him. He pushes it in up to the hilt, your gummy walls clamping around his thick finger. 
He curls it inside of you and watches you fall apart around him, a slutty mess just from one of his fingers. He pushes another inside, working you open. Your arms shake against the wall, threatening to give in and make you face plant against it. 
There’s a hot pressure building in your stomach, heating up more and more by the second. Your thighs quiver on either side of his arm, your arms bend inwards, and suddenly you pitch forwards. 
Wriothesley anticipates your fall, keeping his arm tightly around your waist. He holds you up with one arm while finger fucking you with the other. He continues pumping his fingers inside of you, warm juices dripping out of you and coating his knuckles. He can feel you open up around him, the vice grip you had around his digits finally loosening. 
He curls his fingers inside of you one final time, hitting that soft spot within your walls. You cum violently, muscles spasming against your will. Your whole body shudders and you collapse completely into his arms. You keep your eyes closed, trying to regain control of your senses as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. 
When you finally open your eyes, you’re laying on his bed with your clothes off. Wriothesley stands at the end of the bed, also naked and stroking his hard cock. The dark lighting of the bedroom only makes him look more defined, the contours of his abs and arms making you drool. 
He kneels on the bed in front of you, fisting his cock. You find yourself staring at the bulge of his biceps, the contour of his abs, the precum dripping down the tip of his cock. You’re barely aware that he’s propping you up on your knees, running his hands over the swell of your ass. 
He dips a finger into your puffy pussy. You shudder from the sensitivity, your walls fluttering around his finger. 
He squeezes your ass and pulls his finger out. “Hm, I think you’re ready.”
“Ready?” You ask weakly, your face pressed into his pillows. 
He rubs his cock through your folds, collecting all of your slick onto his tip. “Ready for me to fuck you,” he says, lining his tip up with your entrance. “Ready for me to ruin you.”
His words send a chill up your spine, the undertone of his voice something entirely foreign to you. You have no time to ponder what it means before he’s pushing his cock inside of you. 
No matter how many times he fucks you, no matter how long he prepares you for, it’s always a stretch. He’s so big that he fills you completely, the head of his cock pressing against that spot inside of you perfectly. He parts your walls around him, an almost painful stretch. 
He keeps a hand on your hip, using it as leverage as he pulls out and drives himself into you. He keeps a desperate, brutal pace, bottoming out with every thrust. The curve of his cock has him rubbing against your walls, pressing into your g-spot with every shift of his hips. His balls smack against your pussy, shining with your juices. 
His hand digs in hard enough to bruise, the other reaching around to rub your clit. “So tight,” he groans, “ ‘s like your pussy never wants me to leave.”
You whine, bending your back and allowing him a better angle. He slams into you roughly, knocking all of the breath out of your lungs with the impact of his hips against yours. 
His thrusts start to get sloppier, his orgasm building right along with yours. He pulls you up so that your back is flush with his, his cock getting dangerously close to your cervix. 
“Fuck,” he grunts, kissing at your neck, “fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“M-me too!”
He pounds into you at a desperate pace. “G-gonna cum inside you,” he groans. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in you, cum right inside that little womb of yours.”
“Wrio~”
He shoved you forwards. “Gonna breed this pussy, hm? Then you’ll have to stay with me—fuck.”
His cock twitches inside of you as he bottoms out for the last time, holding you flush to his thighs as hot ropes of cum fill you up. He sucks and bites at your neck as he finishes cumming inside of you, letting you fall onto your face against the bed. 
He keeps his cock inside of you, effectively plugging you with his cum. He gives you no time to recover before he’s flipping you into your back, throwing your legs over his shoulders. 
“Wrio—it’s too much!” 
He smirks at you, something feral behind those crystalline eyes. “You’re not going anywhere,” he grunts, thrusting into you. “Not until you’re nice and full.”
You’re surprised that he manages to keep the pace he does, fucking his cum back into you with renewed vigour. He leans over you, giving himself better access to slam into your pussy. You cry out with every thrust, raking your nails down his back.
It’s so sensitive, it’s too much, but fuck, does it feel so good. “T-too deep,” you whine, your own words sounding foreign and far away to you. “Too big.”
He laughs, “but you’re taking it so well, sweetheart. And doesn’t it feel so good?”
You nod, babbling incoherently into his ear. Sweat beads down your temples, tears coat your lashes. Your skin takes on a feverish sheen, but you don’t care. All you care about is the feeling of his cock slamming into you and how his arms flex with every thrust. 
His thrusts start to get sloppy, his pace slowing down to a steady rhythm. He lets himself collapse on top of you, effectively folding you in half. 
“Gonna fill you up,” he groans. “Gonna fucking breed you and keep you nice and full. Make you my little whore and keep you here with me.”
You whine, black spots starting to crowd your vision. His thrusts are slow and deep now, his hips moving into you brutally. 
“You’d like that, hm? You said you wanted a family,” he bottoms out inside of you, his cum flooding your pussy. “I’m just giving you what you asked for.”
The combination of his cum and his cock inside of you has you feeling so full it almost hurts. Your senses have dulled, all of your thoughts of leaving having been fucked away. 
Wriothesley lays on top of you, bowing his head into your shoulder. His dark hair tickles your collar bone, his lips pressing against the flushed skin of your chest. 
“Did so well for me,” he mumbles into your skin, “such a good girl.”
You can only nod, running your fingers through his hair to try and ground yourself. You lay there in silence for a while—just him breathing into your chest and you stroking his hair. 
After a while, he props himself up. That same soft look has returned to his eyes, “you’re not really going to leave, right?”
It’s posed like a question but sounds more like a plea. His cock is still inside of you, more and more cum running out as it’s softened. You still feel dizzy from the overstimulation, but looking at him now, you don’t see how you could possibly leave. 
“No,” you say quietly. “I’m not going to leave.”
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Simon discovers something unexpected:
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Light on masterlist
Simon Riley/female reader (single mom)
The first time Simon meets you, it’s on the rooftop of the apartment building in the middle of the morning.
He’s up here for a smoke, his first in hours, his body anxiously craving the nicotine after sitting on a cramped train for too long after the final debrief. His muscles are sore, stitches in his leg bothering him, mind is exhausted, and all he wants to do is smoke a cigarette and then collapse on the bed inside the flat that he hasn’t seen for months.
When he gets to the roof, after climbing four flights of stairs because the bloody elevator is broken, he’s greeted with two surprises. One, there is a garden up here now, multiple raised beds enclosed in sturdy two by sixes, and two… you are kneeling on the brick between them.
You’re on your knees, digging around, dirt smudged on your clothes, purple garden gloves caked with soil. You’re talking aloud too, rooting around in the plants and singing out names of vegetables and their corresponding colors, occasional pulling something green loose and stuffing it in a bag. He glances around the roof, confused, but sees no one but you, your voice carrying on the wind to where he stands by the clunky metal door.
When he gets closer, he realizes you’re not talking to yourself at all, but to a baby. A tiny baby tucked into a carrier, who’s eyes are wide and somewhat tracking your hand movements while you point to things in the garden bed, in the sky, on the ground.
“And this is a parsnip.” You say, brushing some rust-colored earth from the root and turning it in your hand. “They’re not very tasty raw but aren’t terrible cooked.” The baby watches you in awe, little feet and arms kicking and swinging while you smile and nod at them, like you think they understand anything you’ve just said. “Yeah! A parsnip!” You’re smiling, your face is bloody radiant as you nod down to the baby, one of your hands rubbing dirt from your skin onto your pants before you’re reaching out to grab a cloth from the baby’s lap and mopping up something on their chin. The action causes you to shift, your head turning enough to catch him in your peripherals, body tensing like you’ve been frozen, shoulders raising under your ears before you loosen and relax, squinting up at him in the sun. “Hi.” You blink, glancing back down to the carrier. “I uh, didn’t realize anyone else was up here.” He swallows, trying to give you a response, brain fracturing at the seam as it frantically attempts to recall words, civilian words like hello, or hi, or sorry. It’s difficult, because he’s a little distracted by how the light refracting in your eyes, the way it’s shining on your skin and hair, bathing you in the early morning glow like you’re some sort of angel. He’s still a few feet away, but he thinks he can see entire universes in your irises, every color ever imagined shimmering in the rays of the sun.
His brain finally catches up, and his mouth thankfully remembers how to form words.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.” He’s polite and you shrug, nodding to your little companion.
“You’re not disturbing us. We were just harvesting some vegetables.” You smile brightly, casually stripping off the gloves while you rock up from your knees into a standing position. If the mask bothers you, you don’t outwardly show it, and your posture is relaxed when stand in front of him. “Isn’t that right, Emmaline?” You coo down to the baby, who wiggles in her carrier as a response, face lighting up at the sound of your voice, or her name. He’s not sure. Do you live here? Are you… her mum? The babysitter? Who are you?
You give him a once over, briefly, and he watches your smile shift from genuine to forced when your eyes land on his hands. The smokes. He’s holding a pack of cigarettes in one hand, and you clear your throat, brushing some dirt off the front of your clothes. “We were actually just finishing up.” You bend at the waist to pull the carrier into the crook of your elbow, supporting its weight with your hip, and slide the handles of the bag full of green things onto your opposite shoulder. “Roof’s all yours.” He feels a pang of regret, like he doesn’t want you to go, the sentiment unnatural to him, unsettling. You obviously live in the building, he thinks. But where? Do you lug that carrier up and down the steps all the time, just to get up here? He frowns.
“I can wait.” He tries to stop you, guilt running thick in his veins, and you shake your head.
“It’s lunchtime anyway.” You incline your head to little Emmaline, who’s face is growing a little scrunchy, like she’s upset, and he swallows.
“Alright, then.” You give him another nod, and head off towards the door. He grits his teeth, fingers tensing around the thin carboard in his hand, the little box holding his salvation safely in its grasp, but his eyes slide to where you walk away, and he can’t help but notice the way the carrier lightly bumps against your hips as they sway. Bloody hell.
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fangswbenefits · 3 months
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Fever
Summary: You're running a fever and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Dry humping. Vampire bite and blood sucking. Precum and cum. Skin to skin contact with the purpose of thermoregulation that ends up getting out of hand. Inappropriate use of tadpole. Banter.
Word count: 3k
A mind-numbing chilling shiver tore throughout your entire body, causing your muscles to contract involuntarily in a desperate attempt to keep yourself warm.
The bonfire crackled vigorously, emanating a welcome wave of heat, as you embraced the blanket around you, keeping both knees tightly close to your chest.
"You can't possibly be cold."
Astarion.
Great.
You lowered your quivering chin to rest on your forearm, definitely not in the mood - or mental capacity - to voice out a proper reply.
"It's blazing hot tonight," he continued, entering your narrowed field of vision. "Hello? I'm talking to you."
Nodding, you hugged yourself tighter.
He scoffed. "What is the matter with you? Oh, do not tell me you're turning into a mindflayer… what a nuisance."
Astarion and his eternal aptitude for inconvenient remarks.
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come. "I think I'm running a fever."
Astarion lowered himself to eye-level with you, his body close enough for you to make out the swirling flames of the bonfire dancing in his crimson eyes.
"So what? Drink a healing potion."
You inwardly cussed, pressing your forehead firmly against your arm with an exasperated sigh, effectively hiding from his burning gaze.
Clearly, your silence paired with the deflecting physical reaction was enough for him to draw a conclusion.
"You don't have any."
Silence.
"What have you done with our potions?" His voice immediately shifted into an accusatory hiss.
Another shiver. 
This time, you mustered the strength to look him in the eye. "Some passers-by were injured by thieves and asked for help… so… I…" your voice faltered as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight.
He was already pinching the bridge of his nose, his face twisting into a deep scowl. "So you gave them all of our potions?!"
You shrugged with a faint smile and Astarion went ballistic.
"Why must you carry this deathwish around? And why must you drag me along with you?" He growled dramatically. "Why didn’t you just ignore them? Or – I don't know – not give them anything?"
You matched his frown. "They were severely injured. They would have perished from their wounds."
He threw both arms up in exasperation as he raised to his feet at once.
"Well, better them than me – or you, for that matter," he added, both hands on his hips. "You're far too precious to be killed, darling."
How could you forget?
And he was right… to an extent.
You chose silence.
It was a very effective way to handle Astarion whenever he went on a rambling spree.
"When is Shadowheart returning with Gale?"
"Soon. I hope."
He groaned in response. "You're actually fortunate I'm so resourceful."
Your head turned to him and you watched as he strolled away, disappearing into his tent. 
A jab of realisation hit you all of a sudden, as you vaguely recalled rummaging through his belongings earlier on when he left to hunt an animal to feed on.
Fuck.
You winced.
"Where are my healing potions?"
Your eyes dropped close and your teeth clattered.
Angry footsteps drew near at lightning speed. "You stole from me?!"
You shrugged. "You steal from everyone."
He then crouched down again, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I steal for us –  the collective good!"
You did scoff this time. "Then why were you hiding them away?"
"Call it safekeeping. Although I was careless enough to teach you lockpicking, wasn't I?”
A firm hand came to grip your forearm, but you flinched away. “It's fine. I'll be fine.”
He glared at you in silence as if your reply had snapped him out of his tantrum.
There was no point in arguing with him, as he was known to have low tolerance for unexpected predicaments.
But even through your feverish haze, you could see he was no longer pursuing an argument.
After all, his bond to you was built on meeting halfway, even when disagreements occurred.
“On your feet, darling,” he said, extending his hand to you as rose to his full height.
You grabbed it and pushed yourself upwars, nearly losing your footing. Luckily, Astarion was agile enough for both of you, and he quickly steadied you with both hands firmly gripping your shoulders.
“There you go,” he said almost lovingly. “Let's take care of that.”
You nodded tiredly as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you into his tent.
“Sorry for the potions.”
He chuckled lightly. “I guess it can't be helped with that bleeding heart of yours.”
You didn’t even try refuting his remark. He was absolutely right. But still, you didn't regret having helped those people. 
And now you were stuck in this predicament until Shadowheart returned.
It could be worse… at least you weren't alone.
The shivers were only getting more intense and you watched as Astarion suddenly pulled his shirt off in one swift move.
Instantly, your jaw dropped. “What – Astarion?”
He eyed you with sheet amusement. “Darling, I swear this is not what it looks like.”
Frankly, you weren't even sure if this wasn't just your mind playing tricks on you.
Why would he even remove his shirt in the first place?
“Considering our current situation, this is the best course of action. Skin-to-skin. I'm cold enough to drop your temperature.”
Your eyes widened.
Oh?
He tossed the shirt to the side and moved to stand closer to you. “Let me help you out of your clothes.”
Under different circumstances, this would have been a welcome exchange, but this particular scenario didn't make room for any of those thoughts.
So, you merely stood still as he tugged at your own shirt, undoing each button, hands traveling down your torso.
A wave of coldness took over as your skin met the uncomfortable night breeze. 
“It's too cold… Astarion…” you said in between clattering teeth.
He shoved the fabric off your shoulders and down your arms, eyes always holding yours. 
You felt your nipples harden, but none of that seemed to matter. He had seen you naked many times and you felt comfortable around him.
But you also felt ill. 
And no amount of loving stares could ease the way your body spasmed uncontrollably near his. 
“You're burning up,” he said, as he pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead.
His touch brought immediate relief and you leaned into it, earning a soft caress as his hand trailed down.
As if disconnected from your mind, your body moved on its own accord, closing the gap that separated you from Astarion, and you gasped as his chest came into contact with yours.
The difference in temperature was so stark, that even Astarion flinched momentarily before his arms closed around you.
A gentle tug inside your head made you wince.
The tadpole.
It was trying to connect with his.
It often happened in moments of intimacy when both of you allowed that door to open.
But now was not the time or moment, and you forced yourself to repress it.
Your chin met his shoulder and you eased into him until you could feel the shivers begin to subside.
You weren't sure how long it took for your body's temperature to drop, but what you did know was that you could tear yourself away from him.
Astarion's cool skin came as the relief you were seeking, and you allowed yourself to let out a shaky breath as you clung onto him.
“I've got you.”
His voice was low and tender and your racing heart skipped a bit.
Even standing, you felt as though you could drift off into a slumber at any moment.
More time passed.
More silence.
More comfort.
And the worm squirmed again.
You promptly ignored it.
Astarion shifted against you and you sighed blissfully, resting your cheek on his shoulder, eyelids dropping.
Another tug and you frowned.
What was happening?
The tadpole rattled almost violently and you allowed yourself to let go.
As soon as you felt it reach Astarion's, you gasped and your eyes flew open.
You could faintly feel pulsating waves of pleasure through the tadpole.
His mind laced with yours and that was when you felt a growing pressure in your lower half.
Not now. Not now. Gods.
His voice echoed inside your head in a never-ending plea.
He sounded desperate.
And he felt… hard.
Positively aroused.
Think of Withers. Think of Volo and his abysmal outfits.
That wasn’t exactly the mental images you would have preferred in this moment, but it was quite clear that he sought a distraction.
You shuddered into him and he let out a low groan in response.
Was he aware that you could hear his thoughts? Did he even care?
Your tadpole vibrated evenly and his yearn for friction became yours.
Astarion… what are you doing?
He jolted under your touch, but didn't utter a single word out loud.
Instead, he focused on caressing your naked back with gentle fingers.
You're inside my head when I crave to be inside you.
His bluntness was enough to cause your body to react.
The fever had been broken, but the heat refused to leave.
Maybe we should pull away.
He let out a chuckle that rumbled in his chest.
You're still quite warm, darling.
Your tadpole held on to his viciously, and it was quite evident that the connection wasn't going to be easily severed.
Not when you could now feel how hard his cock was for you.
Inside your mind.
It was as if you were experiencing everything happening in his body.
The gentle throbbing in his lower half was now your own, too.
You can feel it, can't you?
He was almost purring through his tadpole and you tried to find words, but his hard cock was too distracting.
You had often wondered how an erection would feel like for a man.
Now you had your answer.
And it felt almost… urgent.
I never felt this before…
His cock twitched and you felt all of it.
I suppose we never allowed it ourselves, darling.
Your hands locked behind his back, but you struggled to keep your fingers from slipping as sweat gathered along your skin.
As expected, the stimulus was enough to stir your clit, earning another chuckle from him.
Oh, I can feel it swelling up…
You clenched.
It didn't take long for wetness to pool in your underwear.
The two of you were still very much covered from the waist down.
It was almost painful how restricted his cock was against the fabric of his trousers.
Now you know how it feels when you get me hard.
Instinctively, you began to grind against him, seeking that delicious friction that only he could provide.
Or maybe we should save this for a more suitable moment.
His suggestion caused you to bite your lip to muffle a groan of disapproval.
We can just stay like this… for a while.
He hardened even more and you were beginning to feel conflicted on what to focus on: his cock or your clit.
You can focus on both, sweetheart. 
You clenched again.
His hands dropped to your waist and he pulled your hips harder against his.
Gods… this hurts… 
It truly hurt to feel his cock restrained like that, leaking precum as he kept a steady pace.
You could feel how soaked he was getting.
Does your clit always feel this good grinding against me?
Your arms looped around his neck for support, because you didn't think you had it in you to withstand the unexpected duplication of pleasure. 
How are you getting harder?
This time, he groaned in response, angling his hips so you could also physically feel how hard his cock was.
Another clench was all it took for him to move his lips to your neck, fangs grazing your skin.
Would you clench harder if I bit you?
You shuddered, bucking your hips as if they were Astarion's. Now you knew how it felt whenever he began to grind against you.
Astarion… you get harder when you bite me, don't you?
He growled before his lips latched on to you, suckling gently.
Do you want to feel my cock getting harder from your blood?
Maybe you should postpone this endeavour. Even if the fever was no longer an issue, maybe it was better to wait out whatever had caused it.
But he was also waiting on you, his fangs eager to break skin and sink into you.
Logic was replaced with arousal and you nodded.
Please…
Astarion didn't need to be told twice, and you let out a pained yelp, as he tore through the barrier and found his target.
With the first gulp of his blood, you felt your mouth drop open, and not because of pain or discomfort.
No.
You could feel your blood coursing through his body, rapidly shooting downwards and filling his cock with each passing second.
The pleasure was nigh unbearable and you kept on grinding against him, desperate for the friction.
He lifted one of your legs to grant him better access and as soon as he found a sweet spot, he began thrusting as if there were no clothes in the way.
You kept clenching around nothing, squeezing out more of your wetness whilst being able to feel just how drenched he was for you.
With each roll of his hips, you felt more and more precum leaking.
The upside to having this tadpole connection was that you got to hear his voice even when his mouth was busy.
Your walls began to squeeze, yearning for his cock.
Darling, you feel so tight.
His cock was gradually getting warmer from your blood and his balls were getting tighter.
He was close.
He was inside your head and he was dangerously close.
I can feel your clit. You're close, too.
You expected to feel lightheaded from him feeding on you, but it was as if his vigour was now yours.
Your body refused to wither as you remained linked to his.
Dampness was seeping through your crotch as he humped more eagerly than ever.
The temptation to just undo his trousers and let him sink inside you was 
I need to be inside you.
It wasn’t a request.
He was begging.
But your ears caught the distant sound of voices nearing the tent.
Astarion. Someone is coming….
He growled, pulling away from your neck and capturing your lips with his blood-stained ones.
You tasted metal on your tongue.
I'm close… 
And so were you.
It was probably a mixture of the thrill of getting caught and how delicious his thick cock felt from being pumped up with your blood.
It was overwhelming.
Your mind was not even focusing on your swollen clit.
You just wanted his cock to find release.
And it was a shared sentiment, because Astarion kept on praising how drenched you were for him and how much you were throbbing.
He could feel your clit the same way you could feel his cock.
It was as if the two of you had swapped places and were both desperate to reach the climatic release.
The voices were getting closer and your grip tightened around his neck, his tongue tracing your lower lip before he began suckling in it.
It was an effective way to muffle his moans.
Clench again… 
Your body obeyed his words and you clenched in frustration, wishing you could drive his cock inside you and empty his balls.
By this point, you were able to make out Shadowheart’s voice.
Quick…
He kept on grinding and you felt his balls tighten even more as he neared the edge of the precipice, his cock twitching and throbbing as he toppled over.
“Gods!” you almost yelled.
Astarion grunted in between gasps.
Shock and unfathomable pleasure entwined as you felt the first strings of cum shoot from his cock, pooling around it as it remained enclosed in his soaked underwear.
His pleasure was your own.
Literally.
Your mind blanked and your hips moved on their own as if you were the one thrusting his cock, mouth agape and heart almost leaping from your chest in sheer bewilderment.
You're almost there…
His words rang inside your head but he now knew better than yourself how close you were and you simply let go as his warm cum began seeping through his trousers.
So much cum… 
Another voice was heard nearby and it catapulted you into your own bodily climax.
And this time, Astarion groaned harder than before as he felt your rhythmic contractions flutter throughout your walls. 
“Gods… this–”
Astarion was stunned into silence, having to bite down on your shoulder to keep himself from being too loud as your orgasm tore across his own body.
You felt the contractions.
You felt your clit pulsating in unison with your heartbeat.
But your pleasure was his.
You pressed a hand on the back of his neck, cradling him as he rode out your climax.
Your tadpole squirmed tiredly and you figured you had overstayed your welcome with this sudden and intense connection.
Just as quickly as it had occurred, the link was severed at once and there was a sudden quiet in your head.
Astarion slumped slightly against you, dropping your leg and face buried in the crook of your neck.
“That was…”
Your uneven breathing held you back for a moment. “... amazing?”
He pulled away and your vision cleared with a few blinks only to see your blood smeared across his lips and chin.
“Unexpected, I reckon.”
From outside his tent, you heard someone clear their throat.
“Why am I not surprised that they're in their tent again?”
“Ah, Shadowheart. Young love tends to be lively and intense.” Gale tried to reason.
A pause.
“Well, they could try to be quieter about it, then.” 
You glanced down to find the front of his trousers, realising just how much of his cum had spilled from the waistband.
“Are you still feeling feverish?” he asked, capturing your chin in between his fingers to tilt your head up, so that your eyes could meet his.
You shook your head.
“Are you still upset about the potions?”
He rolled his eyes. “I am upset that it took us this long to take full advantage of these blasted worms.”
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neil-gaiman · 3 months
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Hello Neil, just wanted to ask if you know how to perform the coin tricks that appear on your books or if its only something you give to the characters?
When I wrote American Gods I could perform all the coin tricks I give Shadow. I had a copy of Bobo's Modern Coin Magic on the corner of the desk, and when I'd get stuck I'd practice something.
These days I have little hands of concrete that have no desire to do anything, and I'm 25 years out of practice. The muscle memory is still there for a French Drop which means I can still amaze a small child if I need to.
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flkwh0re · 2 months
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Team Player
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Pairing: Step-mom! Wanda Maximoff x Coach! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Age gap (Legal), Step-mom/Step-daughter relationship, Coach/Player relationship, Cheating, Manipulation(??), Threesome, Mommy Kink (W), Degrading, Spitting, Cum play(??), Fingering, Oral, Dom/Dom/Sub dynamic, Natasha has a penis, Unprotected sex, Brief breeding kink, Face riding
A/n: Love this dynamic, very odd unusual pairing tho 😭
Word count: 1,568
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Today was the day of your final game of your college teams basketball game. You anxiously waited around for your dad to show, knowing he’d probably not. He always had some excuse like being busy at work, or having made plans already.
That was never the case though, it was always the fact that he was just pure lazy and didn’t give two fucks about you and the stuff you did.
It hurt you, it hurt you badly. Your step mom, Wanda, on the other hand was amazing. Stepping up to take his place any moment she could. You honestly didn’t believe how the woman married that man, but little did you know she only stayed for you.
Wanda had developed a small crush on you, then it grew. Anytime she watched one of your games, she’d have an aching throb between her thighs. Watching your skilled body move around the court, the sweat dripping down your body. The tone in your voice as you yelled at your teammates, trying to get their attention. You truly were the mvp of the team, and everyone adored you.
As you stood around by the door waiting for him, one of your teammates informed you that your couch wanted you in the locker room. You huffed and began to walk away from the entrance, until the door flew open. You craned your head around and there stood Wanda.
“Oh my god Wanda you made it!” You yelped as your arms flew around her body, your taller figure towering her. “I couldn’t miss my favorite girls final game, now could I?” She chuckled, earning a giggling and smile from you.
“I’d walk you to the gymnasium, but coach wants me. Plus the game starts soon, so I’ll see you after?” You asked. “Why don’t I come with you? I have something I wanna try on you.” She hummed, to which you shuddered and nodded with confusion.
What could she possibly want to try, were your thoughts while you two walked to the locker room. Her hand resting on your back, almost too close to your ass.
Once the two of you reached the locker room, you guided her into where your coach was. “Coach Romanoff?” You asked, the older woman turning around. “Oh hello Y/n, I needed to discuss some things with you before the game. Who’s this?” Natasha pointed to Wanda.
“Oh this is Wanda, my step-mom.” Wanda extended her hand to Natasha. “Nice to meet you..?” Wanda paused, “Natasha.” She responded. Wanda nodded, “Nice to meet you Natasha.” Natasha nodded and took her hand, “Like wise.”
After a while of Natasha discussing game plans with you, Wanda’s hands rested on your shoulders. Massaging the tense muscles. “Detka, you’re so tense. What’s wrong?” She quipped, and you nervously eyed the two women. “I- just nervous I guess.”
You lied as well as you could, you knew it wasn’t believable thought. It was hard to hide the fact you had a massive crush on your step-mom, alone with your coach. You knew it was wrong, all so very wrong.
Natasha and you messed around a couple times, quickly shutting it down when you two were almost caught by one of your teammates. You didn’t know that Wanda knew though.
She had caught you texting her multiple times about non-basketball related things, but chose not to say anything. She did feel rather protective of you, which is why she insisted on coming with you to see Nat before the game.
Wanda hummed, then glanced up at Natasha. “I know that’s not the reason, it’s because your step-mom’s hands are rubbing across your muscles and your filthy coach keeps eyeing you. Such a dirty girl you are.”
A gasp escaped your lips, Natasha eyes painfully trained on Wanda. “What do you mean by that, Wanda?” She asked sternly, her teeth gritted.
“Oh don’t act like a fool, I know that you know you get Y/n here to whore herself out to you.” Another gasped came from you, Wanda’s fingers found your lips and pushed past them.
“Hush you little slut, don’t you act surprised either.” Whimpers escaped your lips, a groan erupted from Natasha. Wanda laughed darkly, her fingers toying with your mouth.
“Why don’t we help you out before the game? We can’t have you this tense before the game, it is the final after all.” Wanda suggested, and Natasha thought for a second before agreeing.
Wanda retracted her fingers from your mouth, earning a whine from you. Her hands slide down to the hem of your jersey, pulling it over your head followed by your bra.
Her long fingers tugged at your perky nipples, using your spit that lingered on her fingers to wet them. Wanda looked up at Natasha, “Don’t just stand there, get over here.” Natasha hurriedly walked over to the bench, sitting down next to you.
Her lips attach to your nipple, biting and sucking. As she did this, Wanda’s hands worked at your tense arms and shoulders. It drove you crazy having your step-mom standing behind you, while your coach was latched to your nipple.
Natasha’s hands wandered across your stomach, tracing your abs. Her hand then slipped past the hem of your basketball shorts, teasing your clit through your soaked panties. Her mouth left your tit, capturing your lips.
Her tongue tangled with yours, and you were so caught up in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Wanda moving to sit on the opposite side of you. Wanda watched the two of you as Nat pumped her fingers into your pussy, and your tongues dancing with one another. She also hadn’t failed to realize the prominent bulge in Nat’s pants.
She kneeled down in front of Natasha, unbuckling her belt and tugging her pants down. Wanda’s hand rubbed Natasha through her boxers, causing her to groan into your mouth.
Wanda pulled her boxers down, her cock springing free from its restraints. Wanda admired the woman’s size, her hands pumped at Natasha cock a few times. Her tip leaked with pre-cum.
Wanda’s lips wrapped around the coach’s cock, sheathing her cock down her throat. The sight of Wanda sucking off your coach quickened the arrival of your orgasm. Nat removed her hands from your panties, making a show of her cleaning them off. Even having Wanda lick your arousal off them.
“C’mon baby, come help mommy suck your coach’s cock.” Wanda suggested, as she grabbed your hand leading you to kneel in front of Natasha. Your tongue ran down Natasha’s dick, as so did Wanda’s.
You both took turns sucking her off, but Natasha was most fond of the way Wanda pumped the base of her cock and sucked her balls, while you sucked the tip of her cock.
With one final squeeze at the base of her cock, Natasha’s cum spurted into your mouth, you taking everything she gave. “Open your mouth, let me see her cum in your mouth.” Wanda demanded, so you stuck your tongue out. “Spit it into my mouth.”
You complied, trying your best to spit Nat’s cum into her mouth. Once you did, Wanda’s lips latched to yours. Your lips moved hungry against each other, cum dripping down both of your mouths.
Natasha pulled you to your feet, pulling off your pants and panties then, onto her lap. Giving you a searing kiss on the lips. Wanda took hold of Natasha’s cock, guiding it to your pussy. As you sunk down on Natasha, you whined at her size.
She began to bounce you on her cock, while Wanda took your hand and guided you to her pussy. Natasha lips suckled at your nipples, her fingers dug into your hips. You tried your best to finger Wanda as well as possible, but Nat’s erratic pace made all thoughts in your head disappear.
“M’ gonna breed this little pussy.” Natasha husked against your chest, throwing all abilities to think out the door. “Here, come eat mommy out while Natasha fucks you.” Wanda spoke up, aching for her own release.
Natasha helped you lay down, spreading her legs and shoving her cock back into you. Wanda straddled your face, her pussy hovered over your mouth. Your tongue flattened out past your lips, and Wanda began using your tongue to get off.
Wanda and Natasha shared a kiss as they both used you to get them own orgasms. Wanda furiously rode your face, while Natasha’s pace became unsteady. Her cock twitched, then her cum spilt from her cock. Yours and Wanda’s orgasms following quickly behind.
You lapped at Wanda’s pussy, drinking up all of her arousal. Nat pulled her cock out of you, your hole clenching around nothing. You whine at the empty feeling. “Hush baby, you gotta get out of here quickly. The game is about to start.” Natasha said.
Wanda quickly hopped of your face, then helped you collect your clothing and redress. She pressed a quick kiss on your lips. ��You do good out there and I’ll reward you later on. Okay?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded, then she sent you on your way.
“What did you say to her?” Natasha asked as her eyebrow cocked. “Don’t worry about it coach, you better get out there too.” Wanda teased, and they both slipped back into their clothes.
Your team winded up winning the game, and Wanda kept her promise. Natasha also followed along.
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Deathworlders everywhere but in Space
This is sitting in my brain because I haven't seen anyone else do this, but take a second to think about this: There are other deathworlders in space, terrifying ones, huge monster orc things. They are massive and nightmarish and impossibly strong. So thats why humans stand out. Thats how we survive. Human's are terrifying because we aren't built for one biome, one climate or even one planet. We aren't necessarily the strongest or fastest or scariest looking, but we're built to survive fucking everything. What if other deathworlder's are almost always only made to survive in one climate? (similar to some of the most deadly predators on earth currently) All the other deathworlders are terrifying, yes, but the second they step off their planet they're weak. Massive aliens of hulking muscle but their planet's gravity is a lot lower than the standard, so they barely meet the average strength bar whenever they go outside their gravity zone. Aliens that have venomous spikes all over their body and look gnarly as shit but their venom has practically no effect on 99% of discovered intergalactic species. Deathworlders whose planet is the nether from minecraft IRl, but they can't survive in any other temperature for any amount of time because their body just can't handle the cold and regulate their temperate (or, vice versa for tundra species). Aquatic species that are kraken-like nightmares, giant sirens and deadly squid-like beings. But they can't leave their home at all, because theres a very specific chemical makeup of their water that isn't currently found within their life-span distance travel. Deathworlders that genuinely can barely survive off planet and are frail compared to even the most docile prey species whenever they have to travel. Their called deathworlders because going to their planet is certain death, but if they leave they'll be meeting death just as quickly. And then along come humans, and everyones like, oh, another deathworlder, nothing to worry abou- wait. These guys dont seem to loose any of their natural strength off planet... and their fast and strong... and- AND THEY CAN SURVIVE IN PRACTICALLY ANY CLIMATE IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE??? HELLO? Oh and of course their predators. Of course most of their planet is completely uninhabitable for most of us. Mhm, yep. thats fair. Totally Basically, deathworlders are a thing, the more common 'terrifying alien monster' type, but their harmless because they can't survive like everyone else. They can't thrive like humans can. It scares the shit out of everyone for a wholeeeeee while, after all, no one ever expected a deathworlder that doesn't die.
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toppersjeep · 1 month
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Landos Girl ~ Lando Norris X Reader
Masterlist
A/N: I got this idea while watching ginge’s and landos new video. so basically you show up to landos when he’s filming with ginge and you join in on the fun. you’ve been dating Lando for a while now. you work with him at McLaren as a pr manger. that’s how you two met!
(a little fluff, mentions of smut but no actual)
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Your POV
I opened the door to Lando’s apartment with my key. I set my bag down and took my shoes off. Knowing I’d be staying for a while.
“Lan” I said. “In the kitchen” Lando said. “Oh hello are you filming” I said. “Yeah a quadrant video I meant to text you” Lando said. “All good I had a major McLaren meeting so” I said. “No way is that the Y/N in the flesh” Ginge said. “Ginge” I said.
“Guys I’m shaking Lando’s girl in person” Ginge said I laughed. “It’s nice to officially meet you” I said shaking his hand. “Don’t worry I won’t try to take your man yet” Ginge said. “Oh you won’t even get a try” I said. “Oh shit she is a bit scary huh” Ginge said.
“So.. I’ll let you guys film then because I am not eating whatever he eats for breakfast” I said. “What she doesn’t have to eat it” Ginge said. “She should” lando said. “No thanks I had a bagel earlier” I said going to sit on the couch.
“Damn and you couldn’t bring us any the hell” Ginge said. “Ooops” I said. “She doesn’t share her food you know” Lando said. “Well that’s rude” Ginge said.
A little while later…
I got up off the couch. I then saw Lando and Ginge working out. I stood in the doorway.
“Have her try the head pull thingy” Ethan said.“I think she does that with Lando off camera” Ginge said. “Oh my god” I said laughing. “Jeez mate” Lando said. “What we know you do” Ginge said.
“What’s next” I said. “Uhh landos turn” Ethan said. “I wanna see you guys pull him I’m intrigued” I said sitting on the floor. “As long as you do it too” Lando said. “Fine” I said. Ginge went first and pulled Lando. “My god he’s not even flinching” Ginge said.
“It feels quite nice” Lando said I laughed. “Really your weird mate” Ginge said. Ethan then did it. “Come on slow and hard” Ginge said. I laughed. “Oh be quiet over there with your dirty mind” Ethan said. “I didn’t say anything yet” I said.
“Keyword is yet” Lando said. Ethan the pulled the bands back. “What the heck so you even feel that” Ethan said. “It just feels nice” Lando said. “Alright your turn” Ethan said I got up. “Come on baby” Lando said. “I have like no muscles” I said. “You got it love” Lando said. I pulled it a little bit.
“No muscles my ass” Ginge said. “That’s good” Lando said. “Okay” I said stopping. “He’s flexing his jaw muscles now” Ethan said. “That’s so hot” Ginge said we all laughed.
We then went to eat some lunch.
“This is like rabbit food” Ginge said. “I just want some pizza” I said. “Don’t start pizza sounds good” Lando said. After we finished eating we went to show Ginge and Ethan around Monaco.
“I’m getting shotgun by the way” I said. “Ughhh fine” Ginge said getting in the backseat with Ethan. “So how long have you two been dating” Ethan asked. As Lando drove.
“Uhhh like a year almost two” I said. “Met her at McLaren well I kinda knew of her before” Lando said. “Oh really” Ginge said. “I worked at Willam’s with George but I wasn’t very social” I said. “Really you not social” Ethan said.
“Ughhh I guess I was just anxious about making friends” I said. “But then I did make friends and got a new job” I said. “I guess I brought out her fun side as she says” Lando said. “That’s nice” Ethan said. “Well you two do seem perfect but I’m still jealous” Ginge said.
“He’s mine Ginge” I said. “You win you win” Ginge said jokingly. “Hope everyone is hungry” Lando said. We all ate dinner and shared stories. I sat beside Lando. “Desert was so good” Ginge said. “You two go out every night or no” Ethan asked.
“Not too often it’s quite expensive” I said. Lando then licked the plate clean. “Oh my god” Ginge said. “Damn I really wish I was that plate right now” I said. Everyone laughed. “Oh my and she says she’s shy” Ethan said. Lando just looked at me all red.
“What” I said looking at Lando. “You got him all flustered” Ginge said. “You can be the plate later” Lando said. “Oh lord” Ethan said. “Get these two love birds a room” Ginge said. “Oh I’ll get one later on” Lando said. “Lord” I said.
“You two are perfect honestly with those out of pocket things” Ginge said. “Oh I know” Lando said. After we dropped them off we went back to our apartment. I kicked my shoes off and attempted to lay on the couch.
But Lando grabbed my arm.
“You wanted to be the plate so badly” Lando said. “I still do” I said. “So come on then” Lando said leading me to our room.
____
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martiniluvr · 2 months
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dick needs more love like hello??
facesitting with dick and he's super onto it. he's drooling. and reader's thighs are trembling and she tries to move off b/c of the overstim but he holds her down firmly and just devours her.
I also feel like he cold cum just from eating her out like that.
the squeezing of her thighs, her shuddering breath and pleas and the dirty sounds from his tongue 🫠
anon….wow. I…I need to lie down. this is sooooo canon in my dick grayson is a munch agenda like yeah. that man lives and dies by the kitty. u literally get it. wow.
18+ minors dni
★・・・★・・・★・・・★
dick grayson can barely believe he’s talked you into this, but he’s not about to complain. you’re kneeling over his face with your hands planted on the headboard, biceps trembling as you try to keep yourself upright. his strong arms are clamped around your thighs, pinning you to him as his mouth works your sensitive cunt ravenously, drawing out a shaky whine from you. you try to wriggle away, which earns a scornful laugh from between your legs. god, why did he wait so long to ask you to do this?
he pulls you in even closer, sucking your tender clit with a gravelly moan. the vibrations send a shiver over your skin, and you instinctively buck your hips again, gasping loudly. dick looks up at you, his blue irises razor-thin around his blown-out pupils; you look fucking incredible like this. he doesn’t know whether to focus on the way you taste, or how good your tits look from this angle, or the pornographic sounds you’re making; all he knows is his cock is twitching at the mere sight of you, and he’s not sure he can keep this up for long.
he feels your slick dripping down his chin and jaw as he continues licking you hungrily, your pleas for him to slow down only encouraging him further. one of his hands comes around to grope your ass, coaxing you to grind yourself against him, and you let out another cry as his tongue spreads you open. your thighs begin to shake as his movements grow more urgent, and you try to pull away from his grip. not a fucking chance, baby.
his hands lock you into place, and his pace increases yet again as he groans into your pussy, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels his release creeping up on him. you dig your nails into the headboard, whining his name in a meek plea for mercy, but to no avail; the sound of his mouth against your wetness, the needy moans coming from beneath you, his large palms on your ass—it proves all too much, and your orgasm tears through you as your arms give out. your hands brace the mattress beneath you as you shudder, your fluids leaking out onto dick’s lips as your thighs squeeze his head lightly.
the feeling of your muscles tightening around him as your wetness coats his face is all it takes for the coil in his abdomen to snap; his cock twitches as his release spurts out onto his stomach, and he whines against your pussy, his head spinning. his grip on your thighs goes slack, and you shuffle back slightly so you can look down at his glistening face. a satisfied expression is plastered on his features, and his eyes are half-lidded as he licks the remnants of your climax off his bottom lip. you try to move off him, but his arms tighten around you again, a hungry smirk on his face. what makes you think he’s finished?
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farmerstarter · 9 months
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The Bachelors and How They Sleep
hello lovelies! Have some more of my headcanons. These HCs are for a gn! reader. If you have any requests then feel free to send me an ask! Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated 🌷🤍
Alex:
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🏈 Moves a lot during his sleep. But he doesn't outright punch you by accident. You always seem to end up being under him.
🏈 Mumbles a lot too. One time, you woke up to him counting to himself, just like how he counts his bicep curls.
🏈 Wakes up early, just a few moments before you. He says it's because he needs to exercise the first thing in the morning. But it's actually because he felt you move out of the bed and he doesn't like to be alone.
🏈 Gives you all the pillows to make you comfortable. He says it's important for your muscles to get a good night's rest. He ends up hogging the blankets.
Elliott:
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🪶 Sleeps like a dead man. He doesn't move at all, save for the occasional turning to the side to snuggle against you.
🪶 It takes him a while to finally succumb to slumber. He says it's because he's used to listening to the waves of the beach to fall asleep.
🪶 Silk pajamas, the man has sets of them. He keeps his hair down while sleeping so you sometimes wake up to your whole face being covered by his locks.
🪶 He's a late riser, mostly because he sleeps late too. He tells you that he writes better at night and he doesn't allow himself to rest until he's finished writing one chapter at least.
Harvey:
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🛩️ Sometimes, Harvey forgets to take off his glasses before he goes to bed. Which is why he has so many broken ones that he tries to hide from you by kicking them under the bed.
🛩️ Professional cuddler. He always makes sure you're in his arms or vice versa. He needs to touch you in order to get a good night's rest. Doesn't matter if you two are spooning or if it's just his hand on top of your arm.
🛩️ Snores a lot. Goes "hoooonk mimimimimi hoooonk mimimimi"
🛩️ I like to imagine him wearing those pajamas that's like just a long night gown and those floppy pointy hats. You know the one.
Sam:
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🎸 Alex mumbles in his sleep, Sam straight up sings. Usually it's outbursts of the choruses of his songs, sometimes he'd hum the tune out. You have a video of him playing air drums while sleeping. You sent the video to Abigail and Sebastian, and they never let Sam hear the end of it.
🎸 He wakes up super late most of the time. But on the rare occasion where he doesn't, he cooks breakfast and serves it to you in bed. Complete with a flower in a vase and everything.
🎸 Always kisses you before he falls asleep. Straight up drags you to his side of the bed to peck your lips.
🎸 Would take off his shirt to put it on you. He says he doesn't want you getting cold at night and waves you off when you refuse, worried about his wellbeing. "I don'T gEt sicK eaSiLy, Babe," ends up in the clinic to get meds the next day.
Sebastian:
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👾 It's my headcanons and I say he moves a LOT during his sleep. So much so that you end up on the floor when you wake up. He refuses to believe that he does that.
👾 His sleep schedule depends on you. He refuses to sleep unless you're already in the house. He doesn't like the feeling of sleeping when he doesn't know you're safe. You'll find him waiting for you on the porch.
👾 Prefers to sleep on the side of the bed where the sun doesn't shine.
👾 Immediately feels it when you get out of the bed. And he wakes up immediately, groggy and needing a few minutes to register where he is. Even if you're just going to get a glass of water, Sebastian would wake up and ask where you're going.
Shane:
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🐣 This man says good night to all the chickens in your coop before he goes to bed, I decided.
🐣 He used to get little to no hours of sleep but after moving in with you, he tries to get enough sleep as possible.
🐣 Hugs you in his sleep, all the time.
🐣 He wakes up the same moment you do, sometimes earlier. He gave himself the job to take care of your farm animals so you don't have to work too hard. So he wakes early to get the job done as soon as possible to spend breakfast with you.
🐣 My brother in Yoba, he would wake up in the middle of the night to get a snack. You would sometimes catch him in the middle of drinking cows milk straight out of the bottle in front of the open fridge.
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yawnderu · 4 months
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hello!! big fan of bimbo!reader and simon, i love them so much. i imagine them having a gym they go to together and while simon is doing his workout, getting hella into it, he looks over and bimbo!reader is always just kind of playing on her phone while sitting at a machine legs swinging. or we just follow ghost around so we can stare at his big sweaty muscles for the whole hour. bimbo!reader def makes going to the gym an experience, has to wear a cute lil outfit with her matching water bottle, etc. i’m at the gym writing this 🥲🥲
HII lovely!! thank you so so much<333 answering this along with your other ask!! omg with my last ask, i feel like simon enjoys watching bimbo reader get hot on at the gym. when she turns down goes, she points over to her big buff bf 🥰🥰
The princess treatment applies everywhere. Simon racks and unracks the weights for you, sometimes even adding his own to complete sets after you.
It never fails to amuse him how you can casually do his PR on leg extensions, perfectly manicured nails holding your phone, the strawberry charm he bought you dangling from it.
He doesn't fail to notice how you keep staring at him when you think he's too focused on his workout, muscles bulging out from his tight, black compression shirt every time he lifts the heavy weights. He sometimes gives you a side eye, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips at the fact that you're staring so hard.
He's not bothered by it, it's actually quite the opposite— he feels proud of working so hard, keeping his body strong to protect you, and he knows you'll be praising his muscles once you're both back home. He's already aching to feel your long acrylics run down his skin gently, squeezing at the muscle.
Pretty little thing like you, wearing a lovely pink outfit matching with your water bottle. He can't stop himself from staring as you warm up, looking at the way your shorts hug your curves, sports bra exposing most of your back now that the pump cover has been discarded. He watches with amusement as a guy comes up to you, trying to strike conversation.
“Hey, beautiful.” Your face scrunches up before turning around, trying your best to give him a small smile and not look disgusted at the idea of anyone other than your Simon flirting with you.
“Taken.” You point towards Simon, your face lighting up as he makes eye contact with you before turning to stare at the guy, raising an eyebrow. He doesn't even have to make himself more brooding— his size itself is enough for the other guy to simply turn away without saying a word, going to another corner of the gym to finish his workout.
Simon's brown eyes are fully focused on you as you walk to him, standing on your tip toes to give his cheek a soft kiss.
“I'll spot for you, Si.” He doesn't need a spot, yet having you watching him has always made him reach a new PR each time. Anything to impress his angel.
Bimbo!Reader Masterlist
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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hello love! i know you probably a dumpster load of requests so i apologize for taking your time. but i just had a thought.; james potter is totally the kind of guy to tell his girlfriend he's taken when drunk. like that man is to loyal for his own good. even when his own gf is trying to bring to home, he's just like "no. i've got a girlfriend that I love DEARLY. leave me alone" and when she keeps trying he'd call for sirius for backup😭. don't feel guilty if you don't do this!! i just wanted to share my thought, with or without you writing it! have an AMAZING day or night, and keep being YOU!! you inspire many people whether you believe that or not, it stays true!!!
Thanks sweetheart, love you!
cw: alcohol
modern au
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 844 words
You find your boyfriend in a corner booth, hanging onto Sirius’ arm and waxing poetic about their school days. 
“They never figured out how we always avoided Minnie whenever she wanted to find us,” he snickers, eyes glimmering. “We were soooo slippery.” 
“I think she knew everything,” says Remus, taking a sip of his drink. You notice there’s not one in front of James; it must have been confiscated. “She just liked us—some of us, that is—” He hides a smirk behind his glass. “—well enough to let us get away with it all.” He spots you and, with a nod, turns his attention to Sirius to give you and James space. 
James humphs noncommittally, confused as to why Remus no longer seems to be entertaining him. 
You come up on his other side, touching his muscled shoulder lightly. “Hey.” 
James turns swiftly, clearing not having noticed you walking over. You’re expecting a smile and a hug and expectant, puckered lips—his usual greeting for you—but instead his eyes narrow behind his glasses, brows twitching together almost imperceptibly.
“Hello,” he says, somewhat stiffly. 
You feel your lips curve into a bemused sort of smile. “Hi, handsome. Ready to go home?” 
He guffaws. Actually guffaws, like you’ve just suggested he go jump in the Thames. “I think not,” he says. “I have a girlfriend.” 
A tiny laugh startles out of you. “Yeah, I’m aware. You alright?” 
Now he gives you a smile. Or his best attempt at one, but James has always been a terrible actor, and the false grin manifests as a grimace. “M’good, thanks.” 
He starts to turn back towards his friends, but you pull on his sleeve. 
“C’mon, Jamie,” you urge. “It’s time to go, yeah?” James turns around, looking truly scandalized now. You give his arm a tug. “Let’s go home.” 
“No,” he insists, firmer than you knew could be managed with a slur. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. She’s waiting at my home, ‘nd I love her very much. Leave me alone.” 
“James,” you laugh. “Honey, it’s me.” 
“Pads.” He turns around, wrapping his arm around Sirius’ shoulders like he needs to hold onto something lest you try and haul him away. “Pads, this woman is trying to take me home. Tell ‘er I have a girlfriend.” 
Your mouth drops open. “James!” 
Sirius turns slowly, raking his gaze over you. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Get lost, babe. This one’s taken.” 
Then he jolts and cuts a glare towards Remus, who sips from his drink innocently. “Be nice,” he reminds his boyfriend, foot moving back under his own chair. 
Sirius sighs, rolling his eyes. “Prongs,” he says with great reluctance, “this is your girlfriend.” 
Even drunk, James knows enough to be suspicious of his friend when he’s in a mischief-making mood. He squints at Sirius. “My girlfriend s’at home,” he reasons. 
“Your girlfriend is here,” Sirius says evenly, and you can’t blame James for his skepticism; if you weren’t fully aware that you are here, you wouldn’t trust Sirius’ deadpan stare either. 
“I texted her, James,” Remus says helpfully. “She’s here because I told her where we were.” 
Your boyfriend’s lips part, and he turns to you with something between joy and heartache—but the shock of both—written all over his face. “Sweetheart,” he cries, “it’s you!” 
“Yeah,” you laugh, letting him tug you forward by the hips into an awkward hug. You set a consoling hand on top of his head. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.” 
“My sweetheart,” he mumbles into your stomach. “I didn’t know it was you, angel. Of course I’ll go home with you.” 
“Glad to hear it.” You pat his back, heat rising to your cheeks at the display. 
James turns his head, still gripping you tightly so the side of his face is pressed to your front. “You texted her for me?” he asks Remus, maudlin.
“Well, I texted her because I didn’t feel like walking in the opposite direction of our flat to carry you home,” Remus says, then shrugs. “But for you too, sure.” 
“Thank you, Moony,” James croons. 
Remus turns to hide a smile, and you take James’ head in your hands, angling his face back up towards you. “Hi, handsome,” you try again. “Ready to go home?” 
He bobs his head happily, clambering out of his seat and whistling rowdily when you slip an arm around his waist to help support him. You wonder if the heat from your face could be harvested to power a hospital or something. You wave goodbye to his friends as James calls over your shoulder how much he’ll miss them until he sees them tomorrow. 
“M’so excited to go home, baby.” He leans into your side as you maneuver the both of you out the door of the pub. “I’ve been dying to get home to you. You should’a heard, earlier, I was talking to this other girl ‘nd I told her, ‘I’m just dying to get home to my girlfriend’.” 
“Yeah, I remember,” you say. “That was me.” 
“Oh, right!” 
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vixstarria · 5 months
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Intimacy
Hello friends, have some soft Act 2 Astarion.  
Astarion’s struggle with sex and intimacy. Connected with my other fics but is a standalone, per usual. 
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, soft Astarion 
Hurt/comfort, some fluff if you squint, love, angst, mutual pining, Act 2 spoilers, some fairly softcore smut 
Approximately 1,600 words. 
“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he told you. You’d replayed that conversation over and over countless times in your mind, since.  
You had no idea what you were doing either. Oh, navigating an ordinary relationship was simple enough, and you’d had your fair share of those – even if they’d all ended in disappointment at best, so far. Being with someone who’d just escaped 200 years of abuse, however... That was something new.  
“I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex.” 
Well that was a fuck-up. He was walking sex. ...Most likely due to sheer force of habit, so necessary for survival over all those years, but still.  
“I love you.” 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...  
You were in over your head too. Completely. Hopelessly. In love with this catastrophe of a man.  
What were you to do with him now?  
Wait for him to take the lead in every physical interaction? It wasn’t in your nature to be so passive. He knew this. And you were sure he would love to be treated like spurned glass all of a sudden.  
Continue as you were? Even though now all you could think about was whether a touch might bring up a repulsive memory? Assume that you could singlehandedly overwrite centuries of disgust and loathing, overnight? How presumptuous and overbearing that would have been. 
Communicate? Ask? Listen? Sure. Absolutely. You did. Or tried, anyway. You were about as good at talking about these things as he was. And you didn’t really trust him to be completely honest at this point. Whether with you or his own self.  
And so you explored. Slowly, cautiously and attentively.
 
The most innocent touches seemed to bring him an inordinate amount of joy. You weren’t surprised.  
Passing him a vial of poison for his weapons and letting your fingers brush and caress one another’s, briefly. Wordlessly running a stray hand along his waist and planting a quick kiss under his ear while you walked past him as he stood talking with someone. Lingering with your foreheads or noses touching lightly after a kiss.
 
He leaped at any opportunity to massage your sore muscles or help you apply a salve, and you let him. It seemed he wanted to take care of you, and was working out all the ways how.  
He still pleasured you in different ways, at times.  
“You don’t have to...” 
“I want to,” he said. 
He just chose to keep his own pants on, now. You weren’t sure about his motivations. Could it be guilt? Or a misguided sense of self-worth? Did he still think this is all he was good for? Or, maybe you were completely overthinking it, and he was still just desperately horny, even if taking a step back. He was more present than before though, you could tell that much. 
You considered his reactions to other forms of touch, careful not to make your observation obvious. 
He hated being scratched. The entire area of his back covered in scars was off-limits for anything but embraces. He enjoyed playful bites, both giving and receiving. And more than anything, he loved holding you close, feeling as much of your body at once as possible, basking in its warmth.  
In turn, you were more than happy to wrap yourself around him when you could. 
“Why do you even like this?” he asked, apprehensive about it at first. “You don’t need to pretend for my sake. I can’t give you any warmth.” 
“I can give you mine,” you said, simply. “Besides, you obviously don’t remember what it’s like to lie in a puddle of sweat with someone who runs hot. This is a nice change.” you added after a moment of contemplation.  
You meant what you said, but you were dying to drag him into a hot bath, just to know what it would feel like for him to be warmed through. Maybe you’d get the chance once you got to Baldur’s Gate.
 
There happened to be a private room available at Last Light Inn that night. The group unanimously agreed that you and Astarion would take it, while the rest of your companions bunked in the common. 
“For Shar’s sake, piss off, none of us want to see or hear you two,” were the exact words of their blessing, delivered by Shadowheart. Karlach sanctified it by throwing a (deftly dodged) half-eaten apple at Astarion’s head.  
“Especially not hear!”
 
“I know this may come as a shock, but I’m actually not too fond of beds,” he said. 
“New memories, Astarion,” you shook your head. “Beds are non-negotiable. I wasn’t too fond of rutting in the dirt either.” 
“I’ll never grow tired of how poetic you are,” he smiled, unceremoniously throwing his gear on the floor. “New memories, you say?” 
A while later, you were straddling Astarion’s hips as he sat shirtless on the edge of the bed. 
“You know, you never did tell me what you like,” you sighed, your fingers in his hair as he kissed your neck.   
“Oh, what does anyone like? It’s all the same in the end,” he said, running his hands along your thighs. 
“That’s not true,” you murmured in his ear. “I can show you some things that are pretty unique to you right now,” you said and ran the tip of your tongue along the lower inner edge of his ear, making him shudder and let out a small moan.  
“You little devil, when did you figure that out?” he breathed.  
“When I happened to brush your ear a while back, like this,” you giggled, repeating the hand movement on his other ear, making him catch his breath slightly again, “and you just about started purring.” 
He just chuckled in response. 
“So what other secrets are you hiding?” you purred, kissing around his ear. “I might just need to kiss and caress every inch of your body to find out.” 
"Sounds like a terrible chore,” he said, falling back onto the bed and pulling you with him. “You don’t want to do that.” 
“Shut up and let me cherish you.” 
You kissed down along one side his neck, slowly, taking your time, pausing to lightly lick or nibble on any spot that made him hitch his breath. He was putty in your hands by the time you reached his collarbone. 
“Just don’t go any lower,” he said breathlessly. 
You hummed your agreement. You couldn’t handle going any lower yourself – you were completely intoxicated with the scent of his skin and the sound of his sighs of pleasure, if you went any lower, you would keep going, and you didn’t think it was a day for that yet.  
You continued up the other side of his neck instead.  
You hesitated for a moment before your lips reached the bite marks left by Cazador, but Astarion made no indication that he didn’t want you to keep going, and so you continued. He let out a soft whimper as your lips brushed the scars. 
“No?” you pulled back slightly, your hot breath still on his skin. He was lying with his eyes shut, head thrown back, neck completely exposed to you. 
“Yes...” he whispered, hoarsely. “Very yes... Softly...” 
You continued, lingering with your lips on the scars, as his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, snapping them against his own and grinding you against an unmistakable erection. 
“I want you to make those marks your own... Yours and no one else’s...” he rasped. 
This is probably a mistake, you thought, but you could barely help yourself as you moaned into his neck and ran your tongue over the scars, making him growl and grind you into himself harder. The friction, the knowledge that he wanted it too was driving you mad.  
“I’m going to come if you don’t stop that,” you begged. 
“Go ahead,” he groaned. 
“Not without you.” 
Something in the energy changed then, and you lifted yourself off him, sitting up. Astarion stayed on his back a moment longer, before exhaling and also raising himself into a sitting position. You were still on his lap, facing him.  
“Listen,” he took your face in both hands, looking into your eyes intensely. “I want you so fucking bad, it hurts. I want to tear your clothes off and ravage you until you’re speaking in tongues. I do.” His voice was hoarse. He paused, before continuing. “But even more than that, I want to remember this, remember you, and not have any of the dirt from my past mixed into it. It’s difficult enough to keep it at bay as it is.” His eyes teared up at that. “And right now, for now, this is the only way I know how to do that.”  
“I’m sorry.” Tears sprang from your eyes. 
“No, you sweet idiot, you haven’t done anything wrong. I love you.” He gathered you in his arms, kissing away your tears as his own started to roll down. He sighed. “Great, now no one is coming, and everyone is crying.” 
You both burst out laughing as soon as those words were out of his mouth.  
You held each other a while longer, him stroking your back, before you broke the silence. 
“So the bite scars are pretty erogenous then?” 
“Extremely. Use that knowledge at your own risk and peril, darling.” 
He lifted your chin for a kiss. 
“Shall we go piss everyone off for a while, maybe steal Lae’zel’s boots, then come back here for more ‘memories’?” he asked.  
“Sounds childish and dangerous. I’m in.” 
You needed to clear your head too.  
Maybe tomorrow would be the day one of you would get closer to knowing what it was you were doing, and tell the other. Until then, at least you were in it together. 
~~~~~ 
The “I love you” is not canon for Act 2, but it is my headcanon, damnit.  
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