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fangswbenefits · 4 months

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The Arrangement (10) - A New Way

Chapter summary: Astarion always find a way back to you even in the midst of all the chaos.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Sexual frustration. Jealous Astarion. Protective Astarion. Fingering. Masturbation. Cumplay. Innuendo. Body worship.

Word count: 7.3k

Author's note: Tumblr isn't allowing me to reply to comments ever since I changed my @... already contacted support. I am not ignoring you guys *deep sigh*

Ao3

Series Masterlist

Rivington had its fair share of taverns and inns sprawled across its busy and lively streets. It was surely a welcome change from the grim and daunting sense of dread that loomed over you when travelling across the shadowlands.

As such, the group had split to indulge in some brief moments of well deserved and welcome repose before finally reaching Baldur’s Gate.

Astarion sat across from you, subtlety eyeing his surroundings as you happily sipped your apple juice.

The sun had yet to reach its peak but the tavern was already crawling with drunkards and unpleasant crowds.

“We shouldn’t linger.” Astarion mused with arms crossed.

You nodded. “I’m nearly done.”

As much as you wished to forget about the troubling matters that haunted you, it was evident that your presence was earning some unwanted curious stares from a few onlookers.

He suddenly reached for the pouch at his hip, withdrawing a piece of fabric before extending his hand to you.

“Here.”

You took it in your hand, briefly admiring its silky texture of the handkerchief as shades of teal and green swirled together in mesmerising patterns.

Then your fingers found golden letters sewn along one corner.

Your name.

Your heart was clenched tight as you traced each letter in absolute awe.

“Astarion, this is…”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, think nothing of it, darling. You’re often covered in blood and sweat and Gods know what other fluids,” he said with a curt smile. “I figured you might as well look stylish whilst wiping that pretty face of yours.”

There he was.

So easily crawling under your skin with his words and now with such a thoughtful gift that fully displayed his artistry and exceptional needlework.

A lump in your throat held your words back.

Maybe he didn’t consider this gesture all that relevant or even worthy of a lingering thought, but you did.

This was a silent extension of him.

Now you’d have him by your heart at all times.

But the moment was cut short as a loud bang rippled across your table.

A man reeking of cheap mead cackled loudly at you. He was swaying so violently it was an incredible feat that he was able to stand on both feet without losing balance.

“Oi! Aren’t you that gal from a few years ago who did magic tricks?”

Your blood ran cold at once and your insides twisted into several knots.

“I don’t think so.” you said, focusing your gaze on the drink in front of you.

You didn’t recognise him, but you silently prayed he would just drop the matter and leave.

Instead, he hiccuped. “N-No! It is you! I would never forget such a face.”

Your eyes met Astarion’s momentarily as he narrowed his crimson eyes at the loud drunkard, and you reckoned he was close to intervening.

You mustered your strength. “No. It’s not me.”

But the man was insistent as he was drunk.

He banged a hand on the wooden surface once more. “What? You are the one whose mother–”

The flash of a dagger pierced through your field of vision, landing right between the man’s fingers, the blade pressed menacingly against his thumb.

“She said ‘no’,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes flaring with contempt. “Should I teach you the meaning of the word?”

The man shuddered and cowered in fear as he strolled away as fast as his wobbly steps would allow.

But Astarion had overdone it and had simultaneously caused many heads to turn your way, voices whispering as people tried to make out what the fuss was all about.

“We’ve overstayed our welcome,” he said, sheathing his dagger as he stood up.

You remained frozen in place, still taken aback by the words the man had spewed at you.

Your mind had been kept too busy to dive back into the memories of your mother, and to dwell on what had happened so many years ago.

A shudder spread across your entire body as the sense of dread gripped you.

You felt his hand nudge your shoulder. “Now’s not the time for daydreaming, sweetheart.”

And he quickly tugged at your arm, pulling you up on your feet before the two of you scurried along the tavern and earning heavy glares.

You made it out just in time as two Fists crossed paths with you on their way inside, trying to disperse the crowd that had gathered around the entryway.

“What was that all about?” Astarion asked as soon as you were able to blend in with the passers-by.

“Nothing.”

Your mouth had gone awfully dry even though you had downed most of your apple juice, replenishing your hydration level.

He stared at you, raising a brow inquisitively. “He did actually know you, didn’t he?”

You met his gaze in a silent warning. “He must have had me confused with someone else.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, but I will not pry. We all have secrets to bear.”

You nodded, thankful for his understanding remark.

There was no point in lying to him. He could always see right through your silly attempts at deception.

“Just know that you can come to me should you need to air them out,” he added. “I know all too well how buried secrets always find a way to crawl to the surface – one way or another.”

It was a glaring testament to how he had come to terms with opening up to someone else.

He had come far in that regard and you felt proud of him.

A faint smile settled on your lips, but it faded just as quickly once realisation hit you.

“Wait!” you said, gripping his arm. “The handkerchief – I left it there. Let me–”

He patted your back. “Leave it, darling. Unless you fancy starting a tavern brawl, that is.”

Your heart dropped.

“But…”

“I will embroider you a new one.”

But he never did.

There was no point in lying to Astarion.

You were very well aware of this.

He would spot your deceit faster than a hawk could tail its prey.

But the dreadful sense of impending doom had rooted you to the sofa.

This couldn’t all just be a coincidence.

By the time the two of you had reached the room, Gale and Lae’zel had already vanished through a portal to Waterdeep to assess the situation.

“All we can do for now is wait.” Astarion said, adjusting his shirt.

Shadowheart scoffed. “This is all very odd. It’s as if something is at work against us.”

You nodded. “I agree.”

“Are the two of you in some competition to see who’s the most dramatic?” he said with a click of his tongue. “Honestly, we know nothing about what happened. Maybe his contact succumbed to self-inflicted boredom – a running theme amongst wizards.”

His sense of humour would have been welcome under different circumstances, but you were on the brink of freaking out.

“Maybe I could cast Arcane Gate and help out…” you said in a restless tone, feeling nauseous.

But the mage slayer outside kept your magic levels too low for you to successfully cast a level six conjuration spell, so it was not even an option.

Astarion immediately snorted as he joined your side. “Perish the thought. I don’t think it’d be wise to do such a thing given your condition. You might open a portal to some place infested with murderous creatures, and then I’ll have to jump in to rescue you.”

Shadowheart, who had been pacing worriedly across the room, came to an immediate halt. “What condition?”

You rubbed your temples as if it would magically dissipate the gnawing headache.

“I had too much to drink last night.”

Shadowheart’s accusatory stare immediately landed on Astarion. “What did you do?”

He scoffed dramatically. “Excuse me? I am well aware that pinning the blame on me is a recurring activity in this group, but I had nothing to do with this.”

You groaned with a wince. “Please keep your voices down…”

Shadowheart rushed to lower herself by your feet until she could eye-level with you. “Are you all right?”

No.

And it had little to do with the aftermath of your alcohol consumption.

Ava.

Your intuition was pounding ceaselessly in your mind and you just couldn’t bring yourself to ignore it any longer.

Yes, she had told you she would talk to Astarion, but your nerves were being eaten raw and time wasn’t something you could afford to spare.

“I… think I need to talk about something…” you began as a shiver tore through your body.

Shadowheart gripped your knees, her face twisted in alarmed worry. “What is it?”

You exchanged a glare with Astarion who eyed you in confusion.

“I met up with Ava last night and…” You paused briefly, pondering your next words. “She made an offering.”

His brows furrowed together. “What offering?”

You felt sweat coat your palms as your heart rate quickened in distress. “She’s under the impression someone is after us,” you said, clutching your hands together. “That whoever it is might be responsible for that dead body and us getting wrongfully arrested.”

Shadowheart was now gripping your knees firmly. “And what did she offer?”

Your leg was visibly shaking now as you were finding it harder to keep your composure.

“Apparently, when Astarion feeds on me, our blood mixes together and…”

As far as you were aware, Shadowheart wasn’t aware of his deal with Ava, so you decided to hold that information.

“She’s interested in that… mixture and wants access to it in exchange for information.”

The effect your words had was nearly catastrophic.

Shadowheart looked positively scandalised and Astarion immediately gripped your arm, snarling, “ What? ”

He was instantly on his feet and you followed suit.

“How would she even have access to that in the first place?” she asked in awe.

Astarion spoke before you could, “I’ve been giving her some of my blood as she researches ways to counter the effects of vampirism. But I wasn’t aware of this!”

“ Astarion! ” Shadowheart let out in sheer outrage. “What in the Hells is wrong with you?”

He ignored her remark, eyes fixed on you.

He was mad.

No.

He was furious.

Up until this point, you had only ever witnessed him protect Ava and vouched for her integrity, but it seemed that he was no longer interested in upholding his defence.

“She told me she would tell you of this as she only recently found out about it.”

“To Hells with that!” he snarled. “Did you agree to that arrangement?”

Silence

But that was answer enough.

“You should have told me!”

You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. “You never listen to me when it comes to her!”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This is different!”

“How?!”

Crimson eyes locked with yours as he scowled deeply. “She involved you!”

His admission stunned you into silence.

It wasn’t all that common nowadays to witness Shadowheart succumb to her protective instinct to the point of no return.

But you could tell she was close to snapping when she approached Astarion, yellow flames dangerously swirled across her palms.

“Give me one good reason not to blast this Ava into oblivion,” she growled with ire. “Or you, for that matter.”

He gave her a mocking scoff. “Darling, I’d love to see you try.”

She smiled deviously and you knew it was time to intervene.

You carefully placed your hand on her arm. “Shadowheart.”

She glanced at you almost in disbelief. “‘Shadowheart’? He’s out here dealing with dodgy people and putting us all at risk! Now she’s also involved with murdering people in Waterdeep?”

Astarion let out an exasperated groan. “What connection is there between the two, then?”

In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure.

Not yet, at least.

At this point, you were allowing your gut feeling to guide you, and it could very well blow up in your face if she turned out to be innocent in all of this.

However… the warning signs were too loud to ignore.

“I… don’t know yet.”

Astarion was glaring at you with pursed lips, and you vaguely wondered if he was upset with you, or if he was actually upset that his judgement had failed him when it came to Ava.

“You can bleed yourself dry if you wish, but not her ,” Shadowheart pressed in a low voice.

“I know .” he shot back.

She took a step forward, her face dangerously close to his. “Then you’d do well to remember that my respect for you has its limits. Do not cross them.”

You tugged at her arm again, trying to put some distance in between them.

“Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he said after a while with a scoff before turning around to leave. “I’ll be in my room.”

You tried to go after him, but Shadowheart held you firmly in place. “Let him go.”

It was hard to do so, but you nodded as you sat on a nearby chair.

“I know you care deeply for him, but this is beyond ludicrous.” she said with a heavy sigh.

Her voice was that of reason, so you couldn’t fault her for being so apprehensive.

“He would never harm me.”

And you would always stand by this as sure as the sun is to rise.

“Not consciously, but by dealing with this woman, he might have opened a door to great peril.”

You nodded, avoiding her penetrating gaze. “Wyll is running a few checks on some information she gave me. I guess we’ll find an answer soon enough.”

Shadowheart’s face softened every so slightly.

“Please exert caution with Astarion,” she said, grabbing your hand. “And I’m not talking about this in particular.

Oh.

“I don’t doubt for a second that he cares for you, but I don’t want to see you bound to nightmares,” she said in a whisper. “That is no way of living.”

You took a deep breath. “Things are fine between us.”

Unexpectedly, she let out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure. My room is next to his and… well, let’s just say that I may have overheard him mumbling your name a few times…”

“What do you…”

Oh.

“So, just… be careful,” she pleaded as she gripped your hand fiercely. “I trust your judgement, but not his… especially not after this.

You felt your heart swell with affection for Shadowheart and you pulled her into a tight embrace, almost tearing up as you did so.

“Thank you.”

She rubbed your back affectionately and whispered, “I adore you.”

“So do I.”

It was becoming more and more apparent that standing outside Astarion’s room was almost part of a routine now.

After a few more seconds, she finally pulled back with a reassuring smile. “I’ll tell the Fists outside to inform Wyll of what’s happened.”

And it was also unnecessarily hard to reach out for that first knock.

You had waited a couple of hours before deciding on what to do.

Wyll hadn’t shown up yet and there was still no word from Waterdeep.

So, you took a deep breath and as you were about to rasp your knuckles against the door, a charming voice was heard, “I know you’re outside.”

Of course he did.

“Can I come in?”

A brief pause.“Be my guest.”

You turned the knob and rushed inside, clicking the door shut behind you.

As expected, the room was plunged in a candle-lit dimness as the curtains draped over the window kept the blazing sun at bay.

Astarion lay on his bed, resting against the headboard as he threaded his way along a piece of cloth with a needle, his eyes solely focused on the task at hand.

Your stomach turned and twisted in knots, and you realised you weren’t quite sure how to start the conversation.

A low chuckle was heard. “I’m assuming you didn’t come here to simply stare at me, darling.”

The lightheartedness in his voice made you feel slightly at ease and you shook your head. “No. I suppose not.”

This time, he did meet your eyes briefly and your heart skipped a beat.“As dashing as I am, I’d rather hear what you have to say instead.”

Right.

You cleared your throat, taking careful steps towards him before taking a seat at the feet of his bed, mindful to keep a certain respectful distance.

“I should have told you about Ava earlier on when you asked me.”

“Indeed.”

He didn’t sound upset in the slightest.

If anything, there was a faint hint of strange calmness to his voice.

“As for Shadowheart…”

He let out a snort. “Please. The day she stops worrying about you is the day I’ll find her in a casket.”

You couldn’t help out a short chuckle as he was absolutely right.

Still, you laced your hands in your lap, absentmindedly fidgeting with your fingers. “I…” you began, before drifting off as uncertainty took place. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Astarion paused altogether and his crimson eyes were on you again.

“See, I do understand that reasoning,” he said, tugging at the thread that curled around one finger. “But considering the nature of your conversation with her, you should have told me right away.”

You nodded.

“As fruitful as my connection to her might prove to be, I cannot accept the deal you made with her.”

Your heart raced in your chest at how determined he seemed in his resolve.

However…

“If what she says is true and someone is after us, this feels like a small price to pay.”

Astarion snipped the thread with a pair of scissors before setting his handiwork on the bedside table.

The look on his face could easily make the bravest men cower in fear.

“Nothing that involves you is a ‘small price to pay’,” he said, voice low and heavy. “It’s one thing for me to willfully provide my blood, and another for her to take advantage of you so blatantly.”

You frowned deeply. “She is also taking advantage of you, then.”

“I can deal with her.”

Astarion had this tendency to sell himself short in terms of self-worth. At times, he was as confident as one could be, but the centuries of robbed autonomy and lack of genuine bond to others would often slip in and take hold.

He was probably not even aware of how easy it was for you to catch on to this, but you knew him well enough by now.

“You don’t have to.”

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

It nearly shattered you to hear him put up his defences around you so unbelievably fast.

There was no need for that.

“Don’t ,” you nearly pleaded. “Please don’t assume I am trying to tell you what to do.”

Just as rapidly, his features softened ever so slightly. “I apologise.”

You vehemently shook your head. “I also apologise if my words came across as condescending.”

An unsettling silence took place.

His eyes roamed across your face and you felt more exposed to him than you had ever been even when fully naked in his presence.

Even though you felt comfortable and safe with him, there were times when you wondered if it was reciprocal.

“Ava is not your concern,” he eventually said. “I will deal with her.”

You had no doubt he would.

It just saddened you that… “I know she was helping you out in more ways than one, even if I don’t particularly agree with the… method, so to speak.”

“Yet here you are, thinking that whatever bond I share with her is significant enough,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “I am using her as much as she is using me. But I never allowed for that to extend to you. Ever .”

You swallowed as his harsh words hit you.

“That was her first mistake – involving you.”

“I took the deal freely.” you said.

“You didn’t have to at all,” he retorted impatiently. “She needs me more than I need her. So, if she knows anything about someone coming after us, she will tell me and I won’t be kind when I ask her to.”

Fair enough.

“Will you still give her your blood?”

“It depends.”

You blinked. “On what?”

“On how the conversation goes,” he said with a shrug. “Though what I do know for certain is that I will not give her blood after feeding on you.”

An impending sense of dread rose inside you and you vaguely wondered if you had just fucked up.

Information was power, and you worried that she might not take it well now that Astarion was openly against her proposal.

But to be fair, she did mention she would let him know about all of this. So, it wasn’t truly your fault that he didn’t take it well, was it?

In fact, it was very much on brand with Astarion.

His sense of loyalty to you was unwavering and transcended any arrangement the two of you had agreed to.

And that was a bond not easily severed, probably much to Ava’s dismay.

“You are off limits.”

It wasn’t a subtle warning by any means and it made your heart swell with warmth somehow. His protectiveness nearly rivalled that of Shadowheart, though you wouldn’t dare tell her this.

A faint smile curled his lips. “I have to thank you.”

You arched an eyebrow. “For what?”

He hesitated at first. “I know you mean well. I do know that.”

Oh, Astarion…

“You’re a better friend than I could ever have hoped for – or even deserve,” he went on. “It is hard at times to be vulnerable. I was never allowed to. For centuries I equated being vulnerable to being weak… even pathetic.”

You were unsure of how to respond, but you felt each word tug at your heartstrings in a way that you had only felt when he had confessed his feelings for you back in Moonrise Towers.

“I’m still getting used to this…” He paused abruptly as if pondering his next words. “Allowing myself to feel all these emotions, I suppose.”

“You are more deserving than you think,” you said truthfully. “Give yourself some credit. You used to be bound to your selfishness when we first met. You didn’t care for others because no one ever cared for you.”

His face held an expression akin to hurt, but it was the good kind of pain. Breaking one’s protective shell didn’t come without discomfort, but it was worth it in the long run.

Unconsciously, you shifted along the edge of the bed as the overwhelming urge to embrace him took over you at once.

Still, you didn’t want to push it, so you halted once you were sitting right next to him, which earned an amused smile from him.

“I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

He reached his hand to grab the piece of cloth on the nightstand. The very same he had just been embroidering moments ago.

“Come here.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he tapped his thigh twice.

Noticing your hesitancy, he repeated the motion until you gathered yourself, feeling a rush of heat pool at your cheeks.

“You do have a thing for keeping me waiting, darling.” he remarked playfully.

A chuckle made its way past your lips as you moved to settle on his lap, careful not to sit too close to his-

“Here you go,�� he said, proffering what resembled a kerchief of some sort.

You took it in your hands, admiring its silky texture and mesmerising fusion of different shades of blue that swirled beautifully together until your eyes spotted the yellow-threaded embroidery sprawled along one corner.

Your name.

The needlework was impeccable as always.

Your eyes widened in sheer bewilderment as you remembered the last time he had offered you such a gift.“I – this is beautiful,” you managed to say. “The other one was a masterpiece as well.”

He chuckled tenderly. “The timing of my offering was rather inopportune on that day – I should have waited until we were back in camp.”

His words were sweet and caressed you like a lover, and you could feel yourself drawn more and more to him.

“May I?”

You nodded as he took the kerchief from your hands only to have it drape around your neck, his fingers tugging gently at both ends as his eyes met yours.

Oh.

Fuck.

You only had time to hastily hold on to the headboard with both hands for support as he pulled you in closer. “May I kiss you?”

It was an uncomfortable position to be in since you were trying to avoid his crotch at all costs.

“Where?”

His gaze dropped to your lips.

“Friends don’t do that.” you teased, but still inching closer to him.

“Darling ,” he began with a click of his tongue, rolling the edges of the fabric around each finger. “We haven’t been friends for quite a while now.”

And then he kissed you.

It was a hungry and urgent kiss and his tongue quickly slipped past your lips, causing you to instantly melt into him.

The softest moan escaped your throat as you felt a single fang nip teasingly at your lower lip.

Driven by pure instinct, you shifted along his thighs until you were pressed against his crotch.

He broke the kiss to let out a strained groan and you immediately lifted your hips, alarmed that you had gone too far.

But his hands immediately dropped to your waist, holding you in place. “Don’t.”

You met his lustful gaze. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. Please .”

He didn’t push you back against him, but you felt his fingers tease the waistband of your trousers.

“Astarion…” you said, unsure if this was a good idea.

He tugged again, but more gently this tme. “We don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with.”

Oh, you were more than eager to carry on. In fact, you were desperate .

You bit your lip, torn between listening to reason or giving in to the moment.

The latter won by a landslide.

You nodded and he masterfully undid the buttons and laces with one hand.

“Do you trust me?”

What an odd question from him. “You know I do.”

His thumb traced your jawline before grazing your lower lip and earning a sigh from you. “Can I trust you not to scream?”

“Scream? Why would I-”

Realisation hit you like a tidal wave and your eyes widened as words died in your mouth.

Oh.

Astarion smiled cheekily, patting your thigh, clearly urging you to slide off of his lap. “Lock the door.”

You were still taken aback and didn't move an inch, staring into his crimson eyes instead as your heart drummed rapidly in your chest.

“Lock the door .”

It resembled a plea, which caused you to clench involuntarily from how desperate he sounded.

Swiftly slipping off his lap, you hurried across his room to turn the key below the doorknob until a click was heard.

By the time you turned around, Astarion had removed his shirt and you were rooted in place, utterly speechless.

He was a work of art.

No words of praise would ever do him justice.

Your mouth had dropped slightly open and he chuckled deviously. “You’re free to stay there and gawk, but I’d rather have you on top of me.”

His teasing snapped you out of your trance-like state and you felt a stronger wave of heat flare across your face and rush down your body.

Your legs felt weak all of a sudden, but you found your way back to him as you always did.

In the end, all roads did lead back to him.

As if driven by an outside force, you quickly slipped out of your trousers, only leaving on your underwear which was already gathering a growing wet spot.

His stare was fixed on your lower half and you spotted the familiar outline of his cock strained in his own trousers.

He eased you back on his lap with a firm grip on your waist and a boyish grin on his lips. Your hands settled on his bare shoulders, still mindful to not lower your hips too much.

“So, my dearest friend… ” he said, adjusting the kerchief around your neck. “How often do you indulge in such activities with your other friends?”

You smirked playfully. “Not often enough.”

He mirrored your expression, fingers slowly undoing each button of your shirt. “Oh? I wonder who crosses your mind, then.”

You.

But he already knew that as his hands travelled down your chest, each breath allowing your shirt to part wide enough to expose your heaving breasts.

“Is it Wyll?”

“You and your obsession with Wyll,” you laughed as he slowly pulled the fabric to the side, exposing each breast at a time. “I’m starting to think you want him for yourself.”

His eyes left yours to gaze at a perky nipple. “The question is: would you be willing to share?”

You whimpered softly as his thumb traced the underside of one breast and you felt too tempted to press down against his erection just so you could comfort the throb in between your legs.

“Of course… I’m all for sharing friends.”

Once he began grazing your nipple, you had to grip his shoulders tighter to anchor yourself.

Your body undulated instinctively, earning a hum of approval from him.

“Would you let Wyll do this, then? As a friend, obviously.”

You were about to arch a brow at his question when you felt one finger pulling your underwear to the side, exposing yourself to him.

It was almost comical how soaked you already were.

You reckoned it was enough to take more than just his fingers.

“Would you let him, darling?”

“I–”

But your voice died in your throat as he ran a single cool finger along your folds, carefully avoiding the swell in between them much to your agony.

The shift in temperature was always something that took some time getting used to and you occasionally flinched as your body adjusted to his touch.

“Can I do this, then?” he asked in a low growl as he teased your entrance. “As a friend.”

You rolled your hips out of reflex and he sank into you with ease until he was knuckle-deep.

“Gods…” you moaned in sheer relief, instinctively clenching around him.

He then pressed his thumb between your folds, causing your hips to jerk as he teased the pulsing swell. It wasn’t long until you began to slowly ride him, your eyes nearly fluttering shut.

“You can take more, can’t you?” he cooed, moving his hand to tease your other nipple. “I remember how eager you used to be for my cock.”

At this rate, he would make you come from his teasing words alone and with a single finger buried inside you.

“Astarion… don’t…” you moaned as you rolled your hips, urging him on.

He needed to shut up…

You needed him to stop talking before-

He suddenly slipped a second finger and you lost your balance, pressing your breasts against his bare chest while seeking support from his shoulder as you buried your face in his neck.

“You have no idea how I longed to be inside you again,” he sighed, his fingers gripping your waist and guiding your sloppy rolls, eventually setting the pace. “My hands can never feel as divine as you do.”

Gods…

You shuddered violently as your moans quickly turned into sobs and whimpers, the wet lewd sounds filling your ears.

He pressed the heel of his palm against you, the delicious friction causing you to rake your hand down from his shoulder and along his chest until he caught your wrist, pressing your heated palm against his hardened nipple.

Astarion immediately groaned and you felt him arch into you.

“Darling…” he moaned, pumping his fingers faster inside you. “Please look down.”

You were so out of it, that his words didn’t register at first, so you kept on riding him in between sobs, further teasing his nipple under your touch.

“Look down,” he repeated more firmly, nearly slipping out of you. “I want you to see the mess you’ve made.”

“ No-no-no … please…” you nearly cried in exasperation, moving your hips desperately against him.

“Then look down.”

You growled in pure frustration, somehow managing to pull back enough to have your eyes land on the hand in between your legs.

It was soaked down to his wrist, and you could see some of it beginning to drip, staining his strained bulge.

You felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment wash down over you and tried to bury your face in his neck again, but he gripped your chin with his fingers, halting you.

“Do not hide from me,” he said, slipping his fingers back inside as he stared into your half-hooded eyes. “This is one of the highest praises you can offer me.” And he proved his point by planting the softest kiss on your lips.

You immediately melted into his praise, realising just how lovely he could be…

The pent-up sexual frustration was at an all time high and you could feel the familiar coil in your lower abdomen reach the point of no return.

You wished you were strong enough to fight him back with snarky and witty replies, but your concentration was broken.

“What about a third one?”

You didn’t care anymore.

You just wanted release.

It had been too long since he had made you come and you'd take anything he gave you at this point.

“Just…” you began, chasing after that high relentlessly. “ Just… ”

He had the nerve to chuckle at your frustration and you felt a third finger prodding at your entrance.

You could take it.

You would take it.

The fullness would most surely remind you of his cock and you needed it.

You were wet enough to accommodate him as he pushed through, earning a gasp from you followed by a shudder and a strained groan.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I highly doubt dear Wyll would get this reaction from you.”

“Gods… stop talking about Wyll as you’re inside me,” you managed to string coherents words together in between your moans. “Just… please…”

He pressed a kiss to your flushed cheek. “You always take me so well.”

How you wished it was his cock instead, stretching you even more and filling you deeper.

You were nearly there.

“Don’t scream, darling.” he teased as you rode him desperately. “We wouldn't want dear Shadowheart to overhear your wanton cries.”

Well, Shadowheart was already privy to the nature of your relationship with Astarion thanks to him and how he clearly didn't shy away from taking care of himself with others around.

Your mind was about to blank and you slid the kerchief from your neck, feeling the need to bite down on something as you reached your peak.

A few more hip rolls did the trick and one last stroke of his thumb along your folds managed to push you right over the edge.

Your contractions were so violent and strong at first you thought you might die from how hard you were clenching around him, your legs wobbling dangerously as you were drained of lifeforce with each blinding wave of bliss.

The piece of cloth in your mouth didn’t do much to muffle you as your climax tore throughout your body, but it was better than having nothing.

Astarion only slid out once you had slumped into his chest, barely able to keep your breathing steady.

Your knees gave out and you sank down against his crotch, earning a guttural growl from deep within him.

Shit.

You instantly slid off of him, worrying you had accidentally gone too far. “Astarion… I’m…”

He shook his head, the hand that was soaked in your wetness clawing at the front of his trousers as his eyes were pressed shut.

Oh.

“I’ll take care of this…” he let out a pained hiss.

Oh.

“I can just leave,” you mumbled. “I’m…”

His trousers were now undone and you could see his clothes cock faintly throbbing.

And he shook his head once again. “You can stay – you can watch… if you want to.” His words were coated in urgent lust.

Your eyes widened at his proposition and you thought you might implode right there and then.

You had barely come down from your climax and the throbbing that had begun to subside was already about to match your quickened heartbeat.

“Or you can leave…” he said in a low and strained voice.

Oh, he was truly holding back…

“I… can stay.” you offered at once, sitting next to him and trying to ignore the lust that was building inside you once again.

This wasn't about you.

He quickly nodded and with a swift tug he freed his cock and you had to bite down hard on your lip at the mesmerising sight in front of you.

A single strand of precum dangled from the tip, already pooling on his lower abdomen.

“Gods above…” he let out a sigh of relief, hips lifting from the mattress as he wrapped the hand drenched in your wetness around him.

This was too hot to witness and you curled your hands into fists on your lap, wishing nothing more than to touch him again.

But you knew he needed this.

He needed to feel at ease with his body first.

His eyes met yours briefly before dropping to your chest and to your breasts as they heaved from your laboured breathing.

You removed your shirt, not wanting to obstruct his view and Astarion growled .

The pace was slow at first as he squeezed his cock, but he quickly picked up, mixing your wetness with his with each stroke.

He looked positively ethereal as his handsome face twisted in pleasure, lips parted and razor-sharp fangs peeking through.

Should you say something? Should you praise him? Encourage him? Or would it be too much?

From what you remembered, he seemed to revel in your teasing words in moments of shared bliss, but how much of that was an act back then? Was he ever able to fully enjoy being with you?

In doubt, you chose to remain silent as you watched him bring himself closer to his own climax.

It didn't take him long to start mumbling your name in between heated pants and there was no way back now.

You were throbbing hard again, wetness spilling from you with each involuntarily clench.

Your body was so ready for him… it was almost painful.

A thicker string of precum bridged his tip to his abdomen, and you nearly moaned, remembering its sweet taste.

He rolled his hips languidly, eyes never leaving you as he gripped the bedsheets under him with such force you reckoned me might tear right through the fabric.

That sparked newfound curiosity inside you.

Slowly, you leaned forward, shifting closer just to have your hand next to his without quite touching him, but close enough for him to feel your warmth.

I'm here… I'm with you, you wanted to whisper, but only heard the words echo in your head.

He groaned in response and, much to your surprise, he released the sheets and his fingers found you, intertwining them in yours as he held on to you.

Your heart might have skipped several beats, you were no longer sure at this rate.

You had seen him reach his peak a handful of times before, but there was something different about the way he toppled over the edge this time.

He threw his head back against the headboard, straining his neck as his mouth dropped open, your name being the only intelligible word you could make out in the midst of hisses and groans.

Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest that you feared you might not make it as he reached his peak.

His hips still momentarily and he covered his swollen tip with his hand and the first spurts of cum began to slip through his fingers before dribbling down to gather at the base and across his lower abdomen.

You held his hand formçy through his climax. Perhaps the first genuine one you had ever witnessed, which invoked an odd feeling of… delight?

For the second time in just a mere couple of days, the two of you held hands albeit seeking varying degrees of comfort and relief.

Beads of sweat rolled down his temple and covered his bare torso as he descended from his high and that was when his eyes met yours.

Your stomach turned and you felt the throb between your legs begin to ease with each passing second.

“Will you kiss me?”

His request took you by surprise, but you promptly shifted next to him until your face was close enough that your lips grazed his.

Only then did he let go of your hand and merely because he meant to hold your chin as he kissed you softly.

It carried neither urgency nor lust.

Just a pure display of silent intimacy that strummed at your heartstrings more effectively than any other praise he could ever offer you.

You melted into his sweet touch and allowed your kiss to express the unspoken words you had yet to tell him.

I love you…

Whichever form of love it was, all you knew was that it felt right and love overdue.

You could feel him occasionally smile against your lips and there was not a single drop of doubt in you.

I love you.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled away, already mourning his touch.

“Shadowheart knows.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

You had to hold back a chuckle. “She heard you – well, when you were… handling things after feeding on me.”

The most mischievous of smiles settled on his lips.

“I thought you said you were quiet…”

“I was, darling,” he said before pecking your cheek. “For the most part, that is.”

You giggled and then stared at him in awe as his beauty increased tenfold from where you sat.

He was impossibly handsome.

“You’re so…”

“Charming?”

You rolled your eyes as he pressed his cool lips to your other cheek.

“Beautiful?”

Another kiss.

“You’re so… you.” you blurted out almost feeling embarrassed from how basic your praise was.

But it drew the biggest smile from him, and you mirrored it instantly.

“Well…”

You watched as his eyes dropped to his lower half and yours widened slightly at the obscene amount of cum was now dribbling down his sides in thick beads. His hand was still holding his now softening cock, fingers drenched in his own spend.

“That’s a lot…” you said.

He nodded, looking almost as perplexed as you were. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” and his voice trailed down.

And you knew exactly what he meant.

With a warm smile, you extended your hand, offering him the kerchief he had gifted you moments before.

He visibly winced. “No, darling. It would be nigh criminal to use such delicate fabric on this .”

Your smile widened. “Can I fetch you a towel then?”

“Please,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “It’s rather messy here.”

You pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before sliding off the bed and hurriedly slipping into your shirt and trousers and crossing the room.

The key turned in one swift move and you quickly left the room.

You were only able to take a few steps before a silhouette startled you.

Shadowheart.

She was leaning against the railing by the top of the staircase with folded arms and a quirked brow.

“Gods! You scared me,” you said, clutching at your chest.

“Glad some of us are able to enjoy ourselves in such times.”

You swallowed hard. “Uh… we were just talking.”

She snickered humorously. “I suppose it’s a form of communication.”

An overwhelming heatwave spread across your face. Had you been that loud? Or had he?

Then her expression turned serious. “Pull yourself together. We have visitors.”

TBC

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!reader #the arrangement #astarion smut

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xinxiaogato · 4 months

Text

— love at first thrust

summary. as an ambassador from mondstadt, your goal was to persuade the duke of fontaine’s underwater fortress (who reportedly had a herculean physique and an absolute bakery) to agree with your plan on improving international relations. the last thing you anticipated was for him to agree to you getting his rocks off.

love interest. fem!reader x wriothesley.

warnings. unedited, 18+ content (mdni), nsfw, cursing, masturbation, voyuerism, size difference kink, cunnilingus, fingering, name calling (slut), slight orgasm denial, skin biting, almost a handjob, angst (somehow) and comfort, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy, porn w plot, virginity loss, unprotected sex, p in v, fondling, rough sex, impregnation, bdsm (handcuffs), soft dom!wrio.

word count. 5,303.

note. my first time dabbling in smut… to whoever is reading this that somehow knows me irl, pls turn straight around ! you are referred to as “reader” by the way.

romance schmomance. how did anyone expect wriothesley to allocate time in his schedule for a lover while properly running the fortress of meropide? his grace was perfectly content with teasing his two tsundere subordinates, who refused to face their feelings for each other. besides, love appeared too complicated of a matter, as evidenced by the prisoners he overheard lamenting on a day-to-day basis about their marital affairs and unsuccessful endeavors in flirting.

but sigewinne thought otherwise, pestering him recommending that he seek a partner because not only would it fulfill his social needs but also satisfy his sexual urges (he scrunched up his nose every time she made that point). frankly, all the duke needed was his right hand, some lotion, and a thirty-minute break of privacy.

…so what was a pair of eyes doing from the staircase to his office, staring incredulously at him fucking his cock into his curled fist during the thirty-minute break of privacy?

keyword: privacy, meaning no one was supposed to be in his office during this time!

a few minutes earlier…

“ah, ms. reader, right this way!”

an eager guard ushered you to an imposing set of metal doors to which your house back in mondstadt paled in comparison. as the guard, who appeared to be a rookie, fumbled with the keys to the administrator’s office, you turned your attention to the rest of the surroundings that seamlessly blended together due to the lack of decor. rusting pipes ran from the bottom up in austere grandeur, and warm lights were scattered across the stronghold, illuminating the faces of the few dozen or so prisoners wandering around the open space.

although the conditions weren’t all sunshine and rainbows (literally, since the fortress is hundreds of feet under the surface), serving time in the fortress of meropide was bearable enough to the point that some convicts continued living there even after their sentences were up. this was the piece of information that piqued your interest during extensive research into the nation of justice, as access to rehabilitative programs while incarcerated had reduced the crime rate there.

thus, there you stood, prepared to present the ultimate strategy for promoting bilateral relations to the administrator of fontaine’s correctional institution. in exchange for advice from monsieur wriothesley on how to reform mondstadt’s prison system, the two neighboring countries could collaborate on an event similar to that of the “neighboring nations congenial poetry gala” between mondstadt and liyue.

it made sense since both fontaine and mondstadt were renowned for their romanticism, and the only other thing you could offer from your hometown besides poetry and artistry was… wine, which you knew wouldn’t fly. no government wanted more drunkards bumbling down their streets than they already had.

finally, the guard pushed the doors open (not without almost popping a vein) and gestured for you to enter monsieur wriothesley’s office, and once you did, you averted your gaze to the spiraling set of stairs.

however, prior to making your presence known, strange… grunting noises from the upper floor sent a shiver down your spine and planted you firmly to the ground. rapidly, your mind swirled with a million possibilities of what the source could be. although the duke was allegedly benign, he was still a warden through and through. was he personally punishing someone for their misconduct?

it frankly sounded quite painful, and you were getting worried that you came in at a bad time. after all, you did arrive an hour earlier than scheduled.

…one peek couldn’t hurt, right?

then you’ll be able to determine whether or not he needed a minute.

curiosity killed the cat, and that cat was you. because after gingerly ascending the staircase and stopping to be able to peek just above the metal floor, you chanced upon a scene that not even your wildest dreams could conjure.

the black-haired duke’s coat was popped open, with the hem of his dress shirt stuffed between his lips to muffle groan after groan that flowed past them. for several long seconds, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scars running down his neck and heaving pectorals, gleaming in a slight sheen of sweat.

and when you did manage to tear your eyes away, they instantly flitted past his abdomen (which needed its own place in a museum) to the sight of wriothesley’s large—and you meant large—appendage thrusting desperately into his calloused hand between his gargantuan thighs. a bit of precum dribbled from the tip, trailing down his length only to be pushed back up by his fingers and creating a frothy ring near the head of his cock.

you had to stifle a gasp behind your clipboard, trying to process what the hell was happening. the prison administrator and his little friend definitely needed a minute, so you quickly swiveled around to give them just that—only for the sound of his chair screeching backward to freeze you in your tracks.

“who goes there?” his voice boomed throughout the office.

shit!

your heels weren’t doing you much of a favor as you bolted down the staircase, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins overrode every inconvenience to get you to the doorway as fast as possible. however, you didn’t have the strength to budge the doors open (what were they made of? tungsten!?), and before you could even blink, wriothesley had you trapped between the only way out and his bulky figure.

“you thought you could get away?” he snarled, grabbing you by the shoulder (with the hand that was just wrapped around his dick, mind you!) to twist you around and get a good look at your face. your clipboard clattered to the floor, and you nearly screamed when his cock—which was somehow more enraged than he was—prodded against your stomach, making your insides feel like they were doing backflips.

you tried your best not to look at… it… as you spoke up to defend yourself. “sir, it isn’t what it looks like—”

“i think it’s exactly what it looks like,” he interjected angrily, thick eyebrows furrowed above a pair of piercing blue eyes. “what? did one of your fellow inmates dare you to snoop on the warden for blackmail? how many coupons did they offer? hmm?”

“inmates? coupons?” now your eyebrows were furrowed. “monsieur, if you could please let me explain!”

it took a second for wriothesley to regain his senses, and after noticing your foreign attire and trembling form, he retreated at once. “archons, i…” he stroked his face with his hand and covered his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. “i’m terribly sorry. i thought you were one of them.”

“them?”

he nodded dejectedly in response before dropping his hand to the side and meeting your eyes, but this time, it wasn’t with indignation. “yes, a group of ill-intentioned people recently formed in order to unmask my secrets…” he had to look away for a moment before continuing. “...one of them being what i do in my office during lunchtime.”

“...oh.”

“as for you…” over his broad chest, he crossed his arms that could crush watermelons with one flex (okay, maybe you were overexaggerating.) “how did you gain entry into my office? it should have been locked.”

you cleared your throat. “a guard let me in.” wriothesley parted his lips to question that, but you were already one step ahead. “he seemed new.”

the warden managed to put two and two together, and a sense of dread began consuming him from head to toe. “you’re… the envoy from mondstadt,” he realized, a taste in his mouth more bitter than the tea he oversteeped this morning. “i must say: you’re a bit early.”

you replied with a light shrug, “the cavalry is expeditious.”

“right. that’s… great.” he gave you a tight-lipped smile. “could… could you give me a minute? i would like to make myself presentable so that i can give you a proper introduction, and… again, i want to apologize for having you walk in on something so vulgar. i’ll be sure to compensate for it in any way possible.”

your original plan from the beginning was to give this man a minute, but… the longer you stood in his presence, the more aroused you felt. he was really handsome, standing many heads taller than you and practically oozing with sex appeal. the tidbits about his appearance that you heard through the grapevine in mondstadt couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. watching him jerking off earlier, there was definitely a moment when you wanted to replace his hand with your cunt.

pause.

this might be the only opportunity for you to break away from the perfect image you were constantly upholding. throughout your adolescence and young adulthood, you had trained to become a professional in your field and garnered copious experience in diplomacy so that you could obtain a high-ranking position in government. this caused you to miss out on a lot of the joys in life, including sex. that was the first time you had seen a penis in the flesh.

“did you say any way possible?” you inquired.

“of course, i’m a reasonable man. i doubt i’ll be opposed to anything during today’s negotiations.”

after a moment of hesitation, you braced yourself for an eternity’s supply of humiliation and let your last thread of sanity snap in two. you fell to your knees right in front of his throbbing member, which was still as hard as a rock.

“...then you won’t be opposed to this, right?” you murmured. in a bold move, you leaned forward to press your cheek against the side of his cock, all while maintaining eye contact with him.

wriothesley sharply inhaled through his teeth, blood rushing to his face as he took a step back. “what… what are you…!?”

but he wasn’t dumb. he knew what you were intending. however, this felt more like you were doing a favor for him when he was supposed to be doing one for you.

and do one he shall.

in one frame, you were hunkered down on the floor in front of his grace, and in the next frame, you were being carried to the second floor of the office in his sinewy arms. you were in no danger of being dropped, but you clung onto his shirt regardless, squealing your head off and flailing your legs like a feral animal, which only added to wriothesley’s amusement.

“are you regretting your decision?” he asked, his lips curled into a smug smile. “i can always stop. just say the word.”

your heart was racing at a mile a minute as he kicked a coffee table out of the way and plopped you onto the couch. when he crouched between your legs, a sheepish you batted his greedy hands away and hurriedly shoved your thighs together. “wait, i… this is escalating way too fast!” you quavered. “are we about to…” do the devil’s tango? the pickle in the jar? the train into the tunnel!?

a gruff chuckle rumbled from his chest. “you were the one who initiated it,” wriothesley pointed out with a wolfish grin. “i’m just finishing what you started, mondstadter.”

“but i just wanted to help you with your… ‘problem’!” you shot back, cheeks rivaling the red of a tomato. “why am i suddenly on the receiving end!?”

“ah, that’s where you’re wrong, because this will help me with my problem,” the duke replied, tugging your pants down your hips to reveal your drenched undergarment. you instantly convulsed and buckled your knees as he pressed his thick fingers against your clothed pussy, and when he drew them back, a string of wetness extended from your underwear to his fingertips.

remember when wriothesley convinced himself that all he needed was self-love?

fuck that.

“your grace!” you cried out as he dove forward and, with his hands anchoring your thighs, began ravaging your clit through the fabric, his tongue swirling and swiping against it ruthlessly. you had not even a millisecond to breathe as your vision blurred from tears of unmitigated satisfaction. with little strength, you reached out to wrench at his dark locks of hair, which only spurred him on further to attack your quivering folds.

archons almighty, what would it feel like if he—

as if he was reading your mind, wriothesley peeled your panties to the side, and the roughness of his tongue along with his pointer finger sliding in sent your body into another realm of pleasure. if accidentally smacking the back of your head against the couch’s gilded crest rail wasn’t the reason you saw stars just now, then it undoubtedly had to be the duke’s skillful ministrations.

“you’re so responsive,” wriothesley murmured, his hot breath deliciously fanning your skin. you were going crazy from his nose nudging against your sensitive bud as he flattened his tongue to completely coat each and every taste bud with your essence, and his digit continued to slide in and out at an inhumane speed, coaxing more and more of your whines and moans. “fuck, and your slut pussy is taking my finger so well. how many people have gotten the chance to see this pretty view?”

pretty view? you mentally scoffed while struggling to keep your wits about. says him! not every day did a tall, dark, and handsome man lap at your arousal like it was his last meal! you questioned how he could even breathe down there.

“no, i… j-just… just you…” you managed between labored gulps of air, your cheeks flushed of color. “i… i’ve never… d-done this… before.”

in the midst of leaving a bite mark on the side of your thigh, wriothesley abruptly extricated his finger, which made your pulsating hole very unhappy. “are you saying this is your first time?” he asked in disbelief.

you nodded timidly. when he didn’t respond right away, you grew worried that he got turned off by your admission, but weirdly enough, he snickered.

“looks like we’re in the same boat,” wriothesley stated to your bafflement. having withdrawn his finger, he brought it to his mouth and sucked it clean of your fluids before returning to lightly thumb your clit using circular motions. you had to scoot away because how else were you going to speak clearly with him doing that!?

“y-you’re a virgin!?” you spluttered, ogling down at this man like he had just grown a horn on top of his head.

“way to rub it in,” he jeered at you in a mocking tone. “yes, i’m a virgin. what’s so surprising?”

“because… you’re you!” you stressed. “have you seen yourself in the mirror? it’s a crime for you to look like a sex god without having had sex!”

once again, wriothesley found himself enlivened by your visceral reactions. when an advisor informed him of a diplomat’s advent this week, the warden was ready to be bored to tears by another mundane businessperson. and could you blame him? a few weeks ago, an ambassador hailing from sumeru went on and on about an invention that they wanted to promote to the fortress of meropide’s inhabitants.

…that invention boasted a 41% success rate.

so imagine wriothesley’s gaping jaw when, the moment you bent your knees and voiced your offer, all of his expectations were chucked out of the window.

“‘crime’?” he echoed, followed by a husky chuckle. “i see what you did there. how does it feel to be in love with a criminal?”

a frown weighed down the corners of your lips. “hold on. i may or may not be succumbing to a criminal, but who’s saying i’m in love with one?”

“your body is telling me everything i need to know,” rizzley wriothesley crooned as he rested the side of his head against your thigh. “well, except for your name.”

“…reader,” you answered breathily. “my name is reader.”

“reader.” he nodded in approval. “well, reader, let me show you how we do it in fontaine.”

with newfound vigor, wriothesley mounted the couch so that he was now towering over you and interlocked his hands with yours, pressing them into the vermillion back cushions on either side of your head. as if he was communicating to you that you could no longer escape his advances, even if they became too much.

for some time, he gazed intensely at your blushing face, committing each detail to memory, before he bent down and connected his lips to yours. you tentatively reciprocated his tender kisses, moving your mouth in ways that were unfamiliar yet exhilarating, and shutting your eyes slipped the ground away from your feet and made you feel like you were floating. he let go of one hand to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, which grew into him absentmindedly caressing your cheek like you were made of glass. your neck tickled. your ear burned. every single touch felt like fire on your skin. every kiss was slowly melting your body into mush, melding your body with his. there was no longer a distinction between where you ended and where he began.

after you parted your lips to impart the permission wriothesley’s tongue frenziedly sought, it wasn’t long before the kiss spiraled into a battle for dominance—a battle you lost in the blink of an eye. you could taste remnants of yourself on his tongue from his previous indulgences, which successfully heightened how aroused you were tenfold. your free hand crept up and started kneading your breast through your blouse, your moans swallowed by wriothesley’s mouth.

when he noticed you began touching yourself, he pulled away to your dismay.

he really liked how you craned your neck toward him at the very end of the kiss when he disentangled from you, as though his and your pairs of lips were opposite ends of a magnet. he liked seeing you craving more.

he didn’t like that you were getting ahead of yourself.

“nuh-uh, love,” he whispered, pulling your wrist to the side. “that’s my job.”

wriothesley tugged the hem of your blouse up to expose your bra, and he whistled at the sight. “beige?” he just had to point out with a smirk, bearing a canine. “you really know how to rile me up.”

you internally facepalmed at morning you’s choice of wardrobe. “i was walking into this expecting to have a proper conversation, not to get laid.”

he cocked an eyebrow and suddenly went into business mode. “what was your proposition anyway?”

you couldn’t help but laugh out loud before grasping his large hand and placing it on your chest. “are we really about to do our meeting now?” you chided him.

“you and i are already ‘meeting’ in every sense of the word.”

an affectionate smile broke through your face, and you tugged the man forward by his red tie. “come here, you big hunk.”

wriothesley mirrored your warmth and captured your lips in a searing kiss before traveling down to pepper smooches on your neck and suckle along your collarbone, his teeth the paintbrush and your skin the canvas. he slithered his fingers into the confines of your bra and pinched your nipples to elicit more r-rated sounds from your mouth, and in the corner of your low-lidded eyes, you became very conscious of the reality that his dick would twitch every time you moaned.

anemo archon, forgive me for mine own sins.

“reader,” he gasped. he hunched forward and almost smothered you with his chest as you began to stroke his cock, a bolt out of the blue. you weren’t expecting him to display such a visceral reaction, so you halted at the base of his manhood (which your hand couldn’t even fully wrap around…)

“did i do something wrong?”

“no, not at all,” he affirmed strongly. “i think the problem…”

…was that the sensation of your touch felt astonishingly different to him greasing the pole. it was a shuddering ecstasy that sprinted along his body and unlocked the carnal desires he had kept stowed away.

the key to his dick heart was supposed to have been eternally lost at sea. that was something he was sure of. that was something every person who tried to get close to him was sure of. so he ignored sigewinne’s recommendations, he ignored the rumors of his impotence among the prisoners, and he tried to ignore the hot flashes that jolted him awake in the dead of night, reminding him again that he had always been devoid of love since the start.

but then you came prancing into his office, swinging that key around your finger.

wriothesley’s breathing became shallow, and he pressed his lips firmly into a thin, white line as he stared down at you. how were you shining so splendidly in contrast to the dull lights of his office? how did your frowning lips still look so kissable? how were you looking at him like you were seeing right through him?

he didn’t even know you.

was he deluding himself?

did sigewinne spike his tea?

should he keep going?

what if he hurt you?

a gentle tapping on his forearm hauled wriothesley out of his rumination. he realized he was sweating a lot.

“now i’m sure i did something wrong,” you said worriedly.

wriothesley swallowed harshly before shaking his head, his tufted black hair swaying from side to side. “no… the problem is that… i don’t think i can hold back.”

…

“then what are you waiting for?” you deadpanned. “are you into blue balling?”

wriothesley blinked. “uh, not necessarily…”

“then let’s do it on your table.”

…

“reader…” wriothesley covered his blushing face with the back of his hand. “has anyone told you how… forward you can be?”

a giggle bubbled from your throat. “i’m pretty sure my field requires me to be forward. is it a turn-off?”

“i couldn’t be happier,” he reassured you gladly, and you were soon swept up into another bridal carry. “i will warn you though. if you make a mess of my documents, there will be punishment.”

you smiled. “looking forward to it.” (hopefully, wriothesley didn’t notice he was already going to need new seat cushions after this.)

wriothesley set you down onto his hardwood table, your back toward him, and had you prop one leg up onto the edge, putting your pussy on full display for his enjoyment. he watched in a hypnotic trance as your fluids dripped like a leaking faucet, and he wanted nothing more than to plug you up and fill your needy cunt to the brim. the warden soaked his fingers in your juices to lather them over his shaft, but while he had one hand gripping your hip and the other lining his member up with your entrance, his muscles stiffened. you peeked at him from over your shoulder.

“blue balling bastard!” you almost shouted, but he appeared too distraught to be badgered.

“i don’t have a condom,” wriothesley moaned, falling forward and smacking his forehead against your shoulder. for the first time in a long time, he really wanted to cry. “i would have to walk over to the infirmary and grab one for us, but—”

“—i can’t wait much longer,” you two finished in tandem breathlessly, eyes fixed upon each other. in a matter of seconds, this became a pressing matter that left you and wriothesley in deep contemplation. two strangers—total virgins at that—were literally about to raw dog it. honestly, your parents would be bouncing off the walls over this since they always lamented their graying hairs yet shortage of grandchildren.

but wriothesley… you knew a man of his status was much too preoccupied with handling prison affairs as opposed to prison "affairs". although the iudex of fontaine would be anyone’s first thought at the word “justice”, the administrator of the fortress of meropide delivered his own fair share of justice to maintain order when fights broke out in corridors, to overlook the production of gardemeks, and to protect the peace he had fostered in this very structure.

these things were what made you hurriedly request an audience with wriothesley in the first place. his impressive accomplishments as the new leader of the stronghold were what brought the you from mondstadt to the him in fontaine. however, you now found yourself in a sticky situation that would burden wriothesley further if you two took this risk. a child between you and him… that hadn’t been in your agenda.

plus, the steambird would really get a hoot out of this. “breaking news: mondstadt ambassador walked into the fortress of meropide and walked out with a baby lump.”

so, you made up your mind.

“wrio—”

“will you let me come inside of you, reader?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. your vaginal walls automatically clenched around nothingness at the thought as you gasped and gaped back at him in bewilderment.

“what…? are you sure!?”

wriothesley nodded. “i-i promise, reader, to be a loving partner to you and devoted father to our child,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve dreamt of having kids with the person i cherish so that they can grow up in a household where they feel safe, but… my greatest fear in life is becoming the monster that… th-that my foster parents were to me and my adoptive siblings.” his face went white. he could feel himself on the verge of vomiting, which he swore he had rooted out long ago. the scars on his body had never felt more painful. “i know that that belief is unfounded, but… i’ve been a violent person since i was a teenager. since the day that i… i killed them.”

“so if you do not wish to bear a child with a person like me, i understand,” wriothesley avowed, his eyes turned down in shame. “i can find other means to make you feel good, and i’ll just… go to the restroom to finish my business.”

you were finally learning about the warden's haunting backstory, sealed behind his assertive exterior. immediately, tears sprung to the corners of your eyes. you twisted your torso to cup his face with shaking hands and look him square in the face.

“wriothesley… you are so much more than your past,” you insisted earnestly. “are you not aware of how incredible of a person you are? of how many lives you have changed for the better? you couldn’t change the past, so you made it your life mission to change the future of every person who’s living and breathing in this stronghold right now. you converted your suffering into something that led to the liberation of many others’.” you gave him a wobbly smile through the tears streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls. “that’s why i wanted to meet you, wrio. i wanted to meet the man behind the operations, behind the smiles on these prisoners’ faces. so please… don’t ever think badly of yourself.”

as the color returned to wriothesley’s cheeks, the duke couldn’t look away from the eyes that sparkled up at him so brilliantly. it was mesmerizing. his heart had never felt this full, and he wanted it to be as close to yours as possible. without missing a beat, his arms wrapped around your body, lightly brushing against your nipples in the process and causing them to harden on contact. he pressed his entire frontside against your back, and you could clearly feel his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage (and his dick saying hi from between your thighs).

“you’re so good to me, reader,” wriothesley mumbled. “what did i do to deserve this?”

you laughed and caressed the side of his head. “i just told you, idiot.”

his signature smirk returned in all of its glory, and he trailed his hands down to rest on your hips. “hold onto something.”

“what? agh!”

your body lurched forward once wriothesley drove his cock into your sopping heat, every inch dragging along your walls until he reached your cervix and his pelvic bone was right against your ass. a guttural moan escaped as he remained perfectly motionless, reveling in the feeling of your pussy rippling along his length, and you clamped a hand over your mouth to mask the embarrassing noises seeping through. the pain was unexpectedly minimal, but now you had to deal with this enormous object penetrating you to your very core. and not a moment passed before he started pushing in and out of you, squelching noises rebounding off the metal surroundings as your bated breath was yanked from your throat. throughout wriothesley’s grunts of exertion, a moan poured past your lips at each thrust, his balls slapping against your puffy lips and the table legs screeching in reply. his hands slid up to mercilessly flick your nipples with his thumbs at a rate that engendered tightening sensations to build up inside of your lower abdomen.

“wrio!” you exclaimed, writhing in ecstasy. you didn’t think you could handle the pert beads on your chest being fondled in unison with him pistoning your cunt from the back for another minute. “wr-wrio…! hnngh… ah! i feel so w-weird… ah! nngh…!”

“it’s a good weird, yeah?” growled wriothesley amid nibbling on your earlobe. “i can tell by the way your womb is descending to meet my cock, just begging for my seed. and that’s exactly what i’ll give you.”

“nngh, i… i’m… a-agh!” you pathetically blubbered. a stream of saliva ran from the corner of your lips as he pounded into your tight channel with savage intensity, the whites of your glazed eyes beginning to show. “i-i think i’m gonna c-come…!”

“shit…” he rasped, noticing the telltale signs of an orgasm building up in both of you. “me, too…” he roughly grabbed your chin, fingers digging slightly into flesh, so that he could witness your expression contorting with bliss as you reached your cusp. “i want you to take every drop of my cum, reader. every fucking drop until nothing but my essence flows from your depraved hole.”

you nodded and pursed your lips, overwhelmed by the persistent and passionate onslaught on your pussy that was utterly molded into the shape of his velvet-wrapped steel. “yes, p-please…! wrio, please shoot it inside of me!”

finally, wriothesley bit down on your shoulder and slammed home into your depths, burying himself inside of your womanhood while releasing thick ropes of semen. your muscles convulsed and clamped down onto his cock with a vice, milking it until he had emptied his balls completely. the light humming of the industrial fan above commingled with the heavy panting of the two bodies that have become one, drunk on the languid atmosphere.

“you’re so obedient,” he cooed, nudging aside a lock of hair that was clinging to your sweaty forehead, whereas you were still reeling from wave after wave of endorphins. as you endeavored to muster the strength to respond, wriothesley glanced down at his files freshly marinating in your juices. “well, for the most part,” he added. “what did i say about my documents?”

“i…” you scowled and snapped back at him haughtily, “i wasn’t trying to ruin them!”

his mellow chuckle resonated in your ears, and in the ensuing seconds, the sound of clinking metal pivoted your attention.

“well, you can’t argue that they’re illegible now,” he said, effortlessly restraining your wrists in handcuffs from archons knew where. you also came to the startling realization that his member hadn’t softened one bit since he came within your spongy walls. “and as the duke of the fortress of meropide, i must carry out punishment where i see fit.”

“…lord barbatos.”

“haha, i love you, too.”

(several days later, charlotte got her big paycheck after spotting another “meeting” between you and wriothesley behind café lutece.)

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #wriothesley x reader #fluff #crack #comfort #angst #smut #stella writes — !#love at first thrust

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crestfallenyh · 10 months

Text

ateez reaction: s/o asking them to stay/not to go in their sleep.

cw: mainly fluff slash angst for everyone and a tiny bit of suggestive content on wooyoung’s part. non-gendered terms for reader. yunho’s one is a bit longer than i intended it to be. basically a self indulgent piece because i’ve been in my feelings as of late.

07. hongjoong

it was late at night. it was one of those days where the night was so heavy with its silence and lack of light that you couldn’t hear a single noise coming from the streets. not the chatter of the young enjoying the night life, not the sounds of cars passing by, not even the sound of the wind hitting the windows. hongjoong walked down the hallway after running upstairs as silently as he could and finally entered your apartment, half wincing in response to the sharp tingling of his jewelry and the chirp coming from the door that inevitably broke the deep silence the room was in.

he found you sound asleep, curled in a ball on the couch and with a blanket half escaping from your grasp. he couldn’t help but notice the light frown and the heavy eye bags on your face, and the familiar sting of guilt hit him with force. he had promised he would be with you early that night, as he only needed to give the final touches to his newest music but just like many other times, he found himself immersed in his work and by the time he looked at the time, it was already past midnight. he felt bad. the worst part is that you were always so understanding and sweet to him, never taking it to heart although he know how worried you were seeing him visibly stressed and tired. he loved you, truly. for that and many other reasons, but each time he promised he would be with you and failed, he found himself thinking more and more that you would inevitably get tired and leave.

he laid down beside you, holding you close to his chest as gently as he could without waking you up. it was slightly uncomfortable as his back was pressed against the couch in a not so nice position but it wasn’t that bad after all, because you were there. you were finally in his arms and he felt like he could breathe again. he caressed your cheek with his thumb and you snuggled closer in your sleep. he tried to get up to take you to bed with him but you groaned, the frown getting deeper as your arms tightened around his waist.

"stay here a little bit longer, please. i missed you”

hongjoong remained silent, biting his lip and forcing down the small cry his throat so desperately wanted to let out. right then and there he promised to himself he would try harder to be there, for you.

03. seonghwa

if there was one thing seonghwa was grateful about was the opportunity to take his music to every corner of the world and showcase his artistry to millions of people. it had been his dream for so long that now that it was happening, he couldn’t help but tear up at the thought of his younger self who used to watch performances from seniors and daydream about succeeding one day. it was a good life, indeed. but with every good thing comes a sacrifice, and to be honest, it was more difficult with everyday that passed and he wasn’t with you. he had went on tour for almost three months now, and the mere thought of you was enough to leave him with a heavy heart and the crushing sensation of a missing piece.

ever since you formalized your relationship you were used to sleep together everyday, whether it was at his dorm or at your place, you hadn’t gone one day without waking up with his arms around your body and you were nowhere as fine as you'd often say in your texts or video calls in order not to worry him. he was having the same problem, but none of you wanted to make each other worried or make the longing even worse by letting the other know how badly you missed his hugs and he missed the scent of your hair, so the first time he came back, you couldn't help but jump right into his arms and cling onto him despite how tired you were after waiting for his flight to arrive, anxiously pacing on your living room with glossy eyes from the lack of sleep.

his hair was dyed black comparing to the last time you saw him in all his blonde beauty and his body felt different under your embrace, a little slender but more firm, but it was still your seonghwa. the same guy who would hug your hips so tight that you were grasping at his jacket, sitting on the couch, and the same guy who would whisper sweet nothings to your ear while rocking your bodies back and fort to help you sleep. soft, like a wave in the ocean.

"you're here" you mumbled under your breath, not fully awake anymore. it was your way to say just how much you missed him and how much you never wanted to leave his side.

23. yunho

your head was pounding and a silence so heavy had settled in the room after the last couple of hours. you didn’t know where yunho was and it was only you laying in bed. the tears had dried now on your face, but you still felt inconsolable, a different type of dispair running through your veins and making you anxious.

it hadn’t been a good day. it hadn’t been a good day in the slightest and you had just started to realize how messed up everything was. you and yunho had been fighting the whole time he had been at your place, many days of nitpicking and bickering at each other way too seriously for it to be a joke had taken a toll on you and you both had finally snapped. your relationship had gone downhill as of late, where even the smallest of things would make him frown at you and even the smallest of things would make you throw a slightly scathing word at him, making both of you so annoyed so as to forget why you had even gotten into a relationship in the first place.

if somebody were to ask you, you would never be able to pinpoint the exact moment you started to feel him drift away from you or the moment he could tell you just weren’t as happy around him anymore. it wasn’t a lack of love, that was for sure, but the differences in your character started to become more visible and to catch up to you. it was difficult as you couldn’t see him as much anymore and he swore you would be unreachable anytime he tried to get closer again. it all had snowballed and you were now here.

you heard the front door close and you turned around just in time to see yunho reenter the room. that wasn’t usual either. he had gone away to calm down almost an hour ago, and usually he would be the one insisting on talking things out in the moment. you were wary and scared deep inside, wondering if things were broken beyond repair but now that he was back, you felt his presence ease some of your worries. your eyes were so puffy and red from crying and his voice was hoarse from arguing, but still, none of you was willing to give up on the idea of sleeping together. no matter how horrible the fight had been, you both unconsciously knew you'd be better if you knew how the other was doing. even the lingering idea of breaking things up for good could never make you prefer sleeping alone.

that didn’t make things any easier, however. yunho laid down until the clock marked four in the morning, he hadn’t slept much and the lack of touching was almost physically painful. you were so close but he couldn’t reach you. at some point he stood up to the bathroom and by the time he came back he found your hand on his side of the bed and your cheeks wet with tears, but you were still fast asleep.

yunho was worried and he hurried back to bed when he heard your pained cry for him not to leave and the calling of his name. seeing you like that was enough to make him snap out of his angered daze. how could things go this far? how could he not notice how much you wanted to fix everything when it was obvious that even on your sleep you were still longing for him? how could he hurt you when you were the person he loved the most, that he cared about the most? yunho wrapped his arms around your frame and kissed the top of your head. you were still crying softly, slightly awake now that he was holding you so close to his body.

“i’m never leaving, you hear me?,” yunho’s voice brought some comfort to you, firm as it always was, “i’ll stay with you”

15. yeosang

it was a typical evening with your boyfriend and his group at his dorm after helping wooyoung and seonghwa cook some dinner and cleaning up the kitchen.

since the group divided into three different dorms, it was not uncommon for them to find a way to be together at home even after being together the entire day, filming and practicing, and most of the times you were there just hanging out with your partner, so now you were all scattered in the living room, some of them talking and playing games, some of them focused on the drama episode airing on the tv. you on the other hand were laying on the couch with your head on yeosang’s lap and his hand running through your hair after talking his ear out and teaming up with san for a while just to lovingly annoy your boyfriend with your antics. it was like a switch had shifted on you, one moment going on and on about your day and every little thought that crossed your mind and then not even a minute after, as silent as you could get, tired and almost completely falling asleep on him.

truth to be told, yeosang was already flustered and his bright pink cheeks were an indicator of it, same as everytime your displays of affection occurred in front of the boys and it became even worse because when he tried to get up and bring a blanket for you, you hugged his legs and buried your face on his thigh with a half asleep whine, earning everyone's curious gaze.

"baby, it's cold. I'll be right back"

you shook your head, and that’s when he knew you were still not fully conscious because if you were, you would be equally as flustered.

"no, don't leave me"

almost everyone scoffed, some of them going back to their business and some of them standing up to give you some privacy in case you wanted to sleep for real. yeosang gave up with a big sigh and ignoring yunho’s smirk, he lifted up your head only for a moment before sliding a cushion under it and hugging your shoulders from behind.

10. san

it was date night at your place, one of the very few times he had a day off and could spend as many hours as he wanted with you and the comfort of your hugs, and san could not be more excited, or at least he was until you started discussing your plans for the evening an actually acted on them.

you had insisted a lot in watching a horror movie despite his constant efforts to convince you to watch a romantic comedy instead, because despite claming out loud that he wasn't afraid of these type of movies, he knew his own body would betray him. he prided himself on being a tough guy, always in touch with his feelings but also very capable of protecting you and acting strong for you, but he also wasn’t afraid of admitting how little of a fan of horror he was. for the entirety of your relationship you had never been in this kind of situation and he was starting to get nervous, shifting on his seat as the starting credits started to roll in and the unsettling music from the film reached his ears.

little did he knew that after around one hour, you would be the one screaming at jumps cares, and he would be the one laughing at your reactions. he didn't want to be mean, so he wouldn't tease you too much, but even after it ended you were still trembling, eyes wide open and flushed cheeks as you reminisced some of the worst scenes in the movie. because of that, he wasn't at all surprised when in the middle of the night you straddled his lap and asked him to hug you tight and never let go. just in case the ghost from that movie would appear to take your souls, you know.

he laughed, of course. he pinched your cheek with a teasing glint in his eyes but still hugged your body so you could rest with your head in the crook of his neck.

09. mingi

mingi liked everything about you. from the way you talked with such passion about the topics you were interested in to the way you couldn’t hide the selflessness and kindness in your soul, he loved you for who you are. he always claimed that you cannot love someone based on what they do for you without loving them for their actual personality and way of thinking, and he truly loved those aspects of you. he wouldn’t lie, however. he also loved the way you treated him and went out of your way to care for him.

he knew how difficult his choice of career was in terms of social relationships. he didn’t have many friends outside from his childhood and celebrity friends because not everyone understood that, sometimes, he couldn’t be there as much as he would love to. that’s why it had been such a dealbreaker when he found you and realized that not only you were willing to understand and compromise, but you were also willing to be there and show up for him at every instance. he was the luckiest, and these type of thoughts filled his head whenever he saw you, like that day, late at night at the filming set. you had brought snacks for his staff and the other boys and had waited sitting patiently for him, even after the filming got delayed twice and everyone had left except for him and a couple of cameramen.

he was the last to film and he was worried about you, waiting for so long in the cold. hongjoong had brought you a blanket to cover yourself before and all of them had offered you a ride home, but you insisted on staying. as he made his way to you and crouched down to your height, he couldn’t help but notice the purplish undertone on your lips and the slight trembling of your hands even when asleep. mingi held your hands on his and your eyelids fluttered open for a second. you noticed the way his stern gaze wandered over your face and body and a faint smile made its way to your lips.

“you were amazing out there,” voice a little hoarse, and mingi’s thumb started to caress the back of your hand, “are you going back now?”

he shook his head and clutched his hand to your thigh, still worried but a little bit more at ease now that you were talking, “no, we’re done. we’re going to the dorm now, and you’re coming with me”

“good. i’ve missed you a lot, stay with me now”

mingi flashed a soft smile before standing up and taking you home with him.

26. wooyoung

it was a special night for more than one reason. wooyoung was happy to no extent, just like every time he got to spend time with you away from all your other friends and his own group mates.

you had been friends with wooyoung for longer than you could recall. your relationship had had the most ups and downs in all history of relationships because not only had he been super secretive about his real feelings for you, but you were also the most stubborn person ever and refused to accept the possibility of him liking you half as much as you liked him. in your head, it was simply not possible that someone like him would want to be with you, and it was not that you didn’t have a good self esteem, it was just that for you, his job and current lifestyle was far away from yours to truly connect.

that night you had opened up to him after impulsively kissing him on your kitchen, frustrated as you were with his mixed signals and uncertainty. he hadn’t stopped you, equally as eager as you to show you just how badly he had wanted to do exactly that, but it hadn’t stopped at a kiss, not at all. you ended up doing everything you had ever imagined and even more and now you were cuddled under clean bedsheets, thoughts still racing on your mind although your eyes were almost closed. you were using his arm as a pillow and since he had been patting your head for what felt like hours and your body was so tired after the past events you were so sleepy.

"can you please stay today?"

he almost didn't catch your words, still clouded with bliss from knowing you felt the same about him but the moment he did realize, he felt painfully aware of the fact you asked him to stay after sharing such an intimate experience and for a second he wondered what could've possibly happened to you that made you think he would just go. he tried to push away those thoughts in favour of caressing your face and assuring you, wearing his signature teasing smirk with a pinch of playful affection in his eyes that softened his whole expression. you had never seen him like this. your hair was scattered all over your face in an attempt to hide from his intense gaze and you looked incredibly cute to him, especially because you were breathing more slowly and he noticed how badly you were fighting your sleep. at times you were still so shy around him and he loved it, really.

"i would never leave, doll face"

12. jongho

being jongho’s partner wasn’t for the faint of heart. he was known for liking strolling around the streets and being busy, wether he was working or having a date with you so most of the times, your plans consisted of going out to eat and discover new places on your city, all while he was super chatty and sweet with you. as his partner you were always happy that he was the type to include you as much as he could in everything he did. as a homebody though, you were also happy whenever you got to stay at home with him. that night was one of those nights.

you had been cuddling for hours on end while watching movies, snacking on everything you could find and just overall hanging out with your boyfriend after a long day at work, and because you were so tired you fell asleep on his chest. he was surprised but didn’t move right away, just taking in the image of your tranquil face just resting, as pretty as he thought you were. something like that had never happened because the two of you had always been careful around each other since your relationship was fairly new and you hadn't sleep at each other's place just yet. he knew he wanted to, especially now after seeing you so adorable in his arms with your warm body so close to his, but he just couldn't ignore the sting on his chest at the thought of maybe making you uncomfortable if he just let it slide and fell asleep too. he knew a lot about you already, and trusted you enough to know what type of reaction you would have, but just in case, he didn’t want to overstep any boundary.

he was about to wake you up so he could get up and let you rest on your own bed, but you tightened your arms around his waist and his face flushed red when he caught your sleepy eyes looking back at him. soft eyelashes brushing against soft cheeks with every slow blink and jongho’s heartbeat could be heard by anyone a mile around. he had been so busy looking at your face and the way you body just seemed to fit perfectly against his that he didn’t noticed when you woke up.

"maybe stay tonight?"

he swore his heart melted.

#ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #hongjoong scenarios #seonghwa scenarios #yunho scenarios #yeosang scenarios #san scenarios #mingi scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #jongho scenarios #ateez angst #if u like my work please help me with a reblog

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obae-me · 6 months

Text

He looks at you like artistry. A contemporary piece he's never seen before. Taking in every detail with calculating eyes. Wondering what intentions the skillful hands of the cosmos had in mind when making you.

He wishes to know your story, the happiness that makes the music of your voice, the experiences settled in the sculpt of your frame, the tragedies brushed into the strokes of your irises.

The complexities of your being astound him, mesmerize him. Every new fact he learns about you adds another stanza to your sonnet.

To him, you are art in its purest form. Not one part can exist without the other. The greatest of symphonies would not be complete without their rests. He adores all of you.

How foolish he was at first, to think you were just a simple creature. Oh, the things he has taken for granted. When did he become so blind? Was it his Pride? Or had he simply been breathing for so long, that the sweet orchestra of life became dull to his ears? How long had it been since he stopped to watch people commune in the streets? Or sat a while to watch the trees sway from his window? Or pondered on the meaning of a wonderful word?

Excitement. How many centuries since he's felt like that? Filled with a rather humiliating child-like giddiness. But it's...invigorating. Everything stands out to him fresh, avant-garde. You remind him that there's still so much for him to discover.

A change in the wind, the turning of a page to a whole new chapter, a swelling crescendo, you are enticing. Every second spent with you leaves him craving more.

All he desires is to be in your presence. To see your colors. To hear your melody. To bask in the opus of your existence. It was only a matter of time before you would manage to become his everything, his obsession, his passion. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

For Lucifer is a connoisseur, and to him, you are nothing less than the crown of luxury.

#just getting into the habit of writing little things on a whim #I miss just smashing words onto a page #and doing more poetic stuff #not focusing exclusively on long projects #or perfection #but that's neither here nor there #thank you for listening to my tag ramble #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc

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ashessonfire · 8 months

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Bonjour, lovely!! I adore your fics, your choice of words are just *✧delectable✧⁠* and I'm amazed at how you beautifully written Kaz. If you may, could you write a little fluff with the reader being a skilled painter/sculptor and she helps the crows in art forgery. (I personally love when there's a little angsty yearning in the mix but I trust you will blow it out of the waters). Mercii!!

Stolen hearts - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt : As a crow who specializes in art, what happens when Kaz stumbles upon one of your personal sketchbooks and gets a little jealous? - Pairing : Kaz Brekker x Reader - Warnings : Jealous Kaz, Kaz being an idiot, he gets a bit upset but nothing too crazy :)

A/N : Hi my loves, this is a pretty long one but I ADORED this idea, and so I let myself run with it.This may just be one of my favourite things I have ever written so I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing this!! As always requests are open, and please check my list here for other characters I write for!!

click here for masterlist

click here for characters I write for

(Also it seems as if we are getting closer to finding out if we are getting a SOC spin off!! After the writers strikes we should hopefully know, so lets try keep the Grishaverse fandom alive on here!! <3 )

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

"You want me to recreate that in two days? Kaz, the original is painted in oils, they don't even dry in that time!" You exclaimed, peering over the top of a stolen painting at your boss, his gaze hard yet not harsh.

"I am aware," Kaz began, "But that's why I hired you, isn't it? You have not missed a deadline once, and I know you won't miss it now," his firm voice rung out into the acoustics of his office.

And of course, he was right.

Although you would have to take a few shortcuts, you could feel your fingertips twitching against the oak frame of the piece, mind already composing each element of the scene. Tucking it beneath your arm, you let out a gentle sigh, nodding swiftly in his direction before departing from the room.

He had saved you, and this painting was only a fragment in your repayment of Kaz Brekker.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

A fire had swept through your village just beyond the confines of the Barrel, leaving you with nothing but your pouch, filled to the brim with pencils, inks, and as many types of paper as you had been able to salvage. The corners of your paintings began to singe as your home was engulfed, pain piercing your heart as you sprinted down the path to evade the impenetrable walls of flame.

Ketterdam beckoned you into her grip, as you ventured through the dim alleyways until shadow gave way to dazzling light displays. The Lid revealed itself to you, and with no other choice you slotted yourself in with the penniless street merchants that lined the alleys of Ketterdam.

For years, you offered sketches, portraits, and paintings to the rich tourists that marveled at Ketterdam's wonders. Although mere pennies were offered in exchange for your work, it was enough to renew your supplies and evade sleeping by the canal, or being trampled by tourists.

As time crawled along your skills blossomed, transforming your rough ideas into magnificent pieces, worthy of far more than a few kruge. Soon, you began to slip into galleries, memorizing each stroke until your mind could guide your hands without a single thought. Portraits that were worth thousands were then being passed into clueless pigeon's hands for only a few hundred kruge, as your skills were unmatched in the art of forgery.

Little did you know that you were being kept under the watchful eye of Kaz Brekker's wraith, your talents being thoroughly observed and reported back to the leader of the crows.

You were able to swindle the pigeons for a few months until the Watchstadt began to take note of the remarkable artistry of your paintings. Overnight, the tides of your fortune changed, awaking one evening to the thudding of leather against stone, inching closer to you as each moment passed.

In a desperate attempt to escape your fate, you clutched your belongings and shot down a back alley, shadows offering you a blanket of protection from the moon's shimmering light. However it seemed as if your luck had reached its limit, as several guards barreled out in front of you, as your other exits were swiftly stolen from you.

Tears began to blur your vision, lightheadedness overtaking your senses, the guard's words became muffled and distant, as panic overtook your being. You were barely aware of a gentle voice calling you from your terror, a soft hand wiping away the beads of pain falling from your eyes.

In the hours that followed, you scarcely registered anything but your gratitude towards Inej, and ultimately to Kaz who had been increasing the hours that his wraith was sent to protect you. In a few swift meetings, Kaz Brekker had settled a deal with you, sheltering you from the darkness of the Barrel, whilst securing a valuable new member of the crows.

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"Thank the saints that that is over," Jesper all but shouted, falling backwards onto the sofa in the common room of the slat. Placing yourself on a worn armchair opposite, you felt somewhat peaceful as your painting had been so seamless that the entire mission was cut short by a few hours.

After jobs, each crow fell into their own routines to unwind the tension that undeniably interwove into each of them. Kaz's cane thumped lightly against the creaking oak of the staircase, ascending to his room to continue plotting. Hushed whispers often omitted from Wylan and Jesper as they basked in each other's company.

Inej was usually missing, as she was now, exploring the endless expanses of rooftops whilst allowing the bitter air to cool her down. Taking in the couple across from you, and a now slumbering Nina beside you, you reached for the familiar leather binding of your sketchbook.

The glowing embers of the low-lit fire cast soft shadows on your friends, and the light washes of orange and red watercolour aided in your attempt to capture the peaceful scene unfolding before you. However, the absence of a certain presence pulled you from your portrait, thoughts straying to the man who undoubtedly was scheming once more in his office.

Since joining his crew, a small fondness for the "demjin" had harbored itself deep within your heart, impenetrable and unmoving. He treated you with a cold kindness, gifting you small tins of expensive paints, or the latest papers, completely dismissing the fact they were irrelevant to your job.

With a short shake of your head, the thoughts dispelled, returning your mind to the clarity it needed to produce your sketch, the flames from the fireplace dimming as the room began to fall into shadow. The peace that art instilled you with returned, as your heartbeat slowed and a sense of calm washed over you with each brushstroke.

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Settling into his chair, Kaz let out a short breath, tension easing slightly from his body as relief gripped him, all thanks to you. Your painting had exceeded his expectations, not a single person suspecting the image to have been forged, and the original stolen into the possession of the Dregs.

Few things could entrance Kaz Brekker, yet something about the way your colours melted into each other, or the clear emotion engrained into every miniscule detail of a painting pulled him in. Perhaps the depth of your sculptures, or the smooth yet carefully crafted edges of the clay coming to life in his imagination were to blame for his admiration for you.

Kaz's mind wandered as he thoughtlessly ridded his desk of it's papers, hastily stacking them into neat piles as he tried to shake his thoughts of you.

Suddenly, Kaz was startled from his inner battle, gloved fingers brushing against a foreign texture, a hard leather cover of, something? Curiosity urged him to retrieve the book from underneath the blueprints and paperwork, eyes scanning over the front in search of a clue as to what the binding held.

Carefully undoing a well tied string, the front page fell flat against his weathered desk, the candle beside him offering a gentle illumination. Kaz's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the contents of the book, the etches of the pencil being too precise to belong to any person, but you.

The charcoal marks formed on the fraying page to portray Jesper, content as he sat on a patterned bar stool in the Crow Club, eyes slightly creased in content. Thumbing to the next page, Kaz discovered another depiction of his sharpshooter, however this time he was polishing his guns. Unlike the previous image, Jesper was now depicted in a light wash of colour, bringing him seemingly to life.

Enchanted by your work, Kaz continued to marvel at each sketch and painting, however a sharp feeling grabbed at his chest as he came to a realization. Apart from a few pages here and there, the subject that lined the parchment was always Jesper. Turning the pages increasingly quicker, a feeling of dread seeped into his stomach, a twisting combination of jealousy and annoyance building within him.

A gentle knock broke him from these thoughts, as your voice called out in the hope you would be permitted entry. Carefully, Kaz slid your sketchbook to the opposite end of his desk, pretending to analyze a discarded stack of papers before allowing you in.

"Hey Kaz, I was just coming to check in on you, I didn't get to catch up with you after..." you began, speech diminishing as your eyes fell upon the bronzed edges of one of your sketchbooks. Your eyes lit up as you began to grin.

"You left it on my desk," Kaz stated, trying desperately to burry the knot in his stomach, as your expression brightened at the thought of finding the book full of Jesper. "I've been looking everywhere for this one, thank you Kaz," you respond, hastily reclaiming the book, folding it snuggly between your arms and your chest.

"It shouldn't be here," Kaz snapped, a sharp tone piercing the previously warm atmosphere, "It's your personal sketchbook, so it needs to stay personal. Understand?" Kaz bit out, stunning you into silence as you backed away towards the door.

"Oh," you began, "I didn't mean to leave it here," voice cracking as you battled through the shock of his manner, and the hurt of him snapping at you. "Make sure I don't see it again, although I'm sure Jesper would love to," Kaz concluded, practically spitting out your friend's name.

The dismay you felt began to ebb away as you took in your boss' expression more closely, your upset being replaced with something resembling humour. "Kaz," your voice quietly began, "You're not jealous, are you?" you question.

Although the room remained silent, his features spoke a thousand words to you, his eyes widening fractionally to reveal fright, face becoming tinged by a rosy blush. Before you could utter another word, Kaz had guided you to the arched doorway, pushed you through the threshold, and slammed the door before you could witness the tips of his ears turning crimson.

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Through the warped glass pane of his window, Kaz was stirred by the early rays of sunrise, face gently caressed by each stream of light that infiltrated the darkness. Despite the restless sleep he gained, the bastard was surprised he had managed to fall unconscious at all.

From the moment he had shut the door on you, feelings of jealousy and shame had consumed him. He swore he had heard a splinter echo throughout his chest as he recalled the hurt spreading across your face the previous evening.

Letting out a short breath of frustration, he slowly contorted his stiff limbs into a sitting position, and only then did his gaze cast onto the unfamiliar shade of leather perching on his nightstand. Unease began to spread through his body, fingertips sparking with anticipation as he reached over to retrieve the sketchbook.

Frustration began to wrestle with the discontent, as he unwound the ribbon binding the wrinkled pages together, yet the colour of the leather seemed to shift underneath his gaze. Unlike the book he had previously discovered, this one was made of a darker material which he could only liken to the darkness of midnight. As he angled the cover, flecks of gold appeared, the early sun dancing light off of each one, illuminating the leather as if it were a sky full of stars

Nimbly undoing the ribbon on the side, the first page fell open, and to his surprise, a neatly penned note fell out of the cover, revealing an image behind it that Kaz was sure he would have permanently engraved in his memory. A pair of sharp eyes met his own, and his breath caught in his throat as he questioned whether he was glimpsing into some sort of mirror.

With a desperation he himself could not even comprehend, Kaz began to flip through the pages, the guilt he had initially felt now burning him from the inside out, singeing at his chest. Each portrait captured his every emotion, each stroke precise and beautiful in a way he had never experienced before.

Gently unfolding the corners of the note, Kaz's gaze deepened with each curling letter of your short message -

Dear Mr Brekker,

After your discovery yesterday, I thought it only fair to also show you your notebook too. I have one for each of the crows, yourself included, and so I kindly ask you not to panic further about Jesper being the only muse of my pieces.

Love, your favourite artist

P.S ~ You also have a second book, if you are interested.

Kaz's breath hitched at the word 'love' before his mind could even comprehend it, head spiraling with thoughts of you as he pictured your gentle teasing laughter as you penned the note to him. The guilt and shame became so consuming in that second that his chest constricted, and he knew the only way he could alleviate the weight was by visiting you.

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A sharp knock pierced through the silence of your room, pen stopping mid point as you called a gentle welcome to the man behind the door. Kaz's figure slowly filled the doorframe, waistcoat slightly untucked, and hair somewhat out of place as if he had raced to see you.

A teasing grin began to illuminate your features, and the sunrise seeping through your window was more than bright enough to display Kaz's rose dusted cheeks as he averted his gaze. Without so much as a sound passing through his pursed lips, a gloved hand directed itself towards you, clutching onto the dark sketchbook.

You smile faltered, the glimmer seeping from your eyes as your lips fought to stay curved, as you questioned, "You didn't like it?" Kaz shifted his dark gaze to meet your own, brows lightly furrowing as he grumbled "I thought you might want it back."

Your gaze softened as the walls you had been beginning to construct around your heart crumbled, "Oh, I meant it more like a gift Kaz, plus I have several more books dedicated to you anyway," you uttered tenderly. The figure before you lowered his head towards the object in his hands, knuckles whitening beneath his leather gloves as his grip hardened.

After a fleeting moment of your boss' gaze sweeping over your features, he gave a swift nod in gratitude, the scent of ink and secrets trailing behind him as he ventured back to his office. Disappointment clung to your chest at his swift departure, hoping that he would have remained in your presence for a few moments more.

However, as your gaze travelled upwards to glimpse at his departing figure, you noticed how he had faltered in your doorway. His broad shoulders were facing you, allowing you to to observe every deep yet ragged breath that lifted his chest.

"I..." He began, voice so low that it was barely audible, "I'm sorry for last night, I shouldn't have said those things to you," Kaz almost spat out, the words tasting foreign on his lips as he attempted to quickly escape to the confines of his office.

"Kaz," you called out, hope unravelling the knots of anxiety from previously, leaving you with streams of a newfound confidence, "I just thought you should know you are my favourite subject. No one else in Ketterdam seems to have a better facial structure than yours."

Kaz could hear the thick inflections of your smirk within your words, ribbons of humour intertwining with each letter you spoke. Despite your teasing being met with a remarkably loud silence, your words had planted themselves deep inside Kaz's heart.

Racing back towards his office, the beat of his cane against the oak panels of the slat hastened by the second.

Yet not even they could match the pace at which Kaz's heart was beating, as his mind replayed your words over and over in his head until the way the word "favourite" was all he could hear.

Thinking back to your short note, Kaz's lips formed a ghost of a smile, since not only were you his favourite, but he was yours.

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Kaz Brekker tag list : @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ell0ra-br3kk3r @swhisperer @sleepynightchild @atlasiiae @kaiinohh @sannunah28 @at-the-chateau @withbeautyandragendrage @animalistic00 @whos6claire @any-corrie @daisydark @shara-ne @xxinvisiblexx @ldhpeter @viperinferno @kozbtchx @wishyouwere-sober (please comment if you would like to be added to the Kaz Brekker taglist)

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P.S - The best way to support writers on here is to repost / repost + add tags! If you could spend a minute or so doing this, it would mean the world <3

#kaz brekker x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #six of crows imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone season 2 #ashessonfire #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker headcanons

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sweaterbob · 2 months

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the goofy said I have nothing to show for it huh 😏 it's only February and I'm charging up

follow my tiktok to see a little of what I have to show because there's so much more that's on the way 😉

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christinageddinsswot · 2 years

Video

flickr

Snapshot_145 von Christina Geddins-Swot Über Flickr: by Christina Geddins-Swot NEW --> DeviantArt

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travelingare · 2 months

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📍Santorini Greece.

Minogiannis Valantis Captures the ethereal beauty of Santorini, an island that epitomizes the allure of the Greek Isles with its dazzling whitewashed buildings, blue-domed churches, and breathtaking sunsets.

on the cliffs overlooking the Aegean Sea, Santorini is a masterpiece of nature and human artistry.

The island's captivating charm is not just in its iconic architecture but also in its volcanic landscapes, ancient ruins, and the deep blue waters that surround it. From the stunning views at Oia to the vibrant streets of Fira, Santorini invites you to explore its myriad of colors, flavors, and sights. Santorini's vineyards, known for their unique grape varieties, offer a taste of the island's rich culinary heritage, paired beautifully with the fresh seafood served at the local tavernas. The beaches, with their distinctive black, red, and white sands, provide a serene escape under the Mediterranean sun.

The island's history is as layered as

its stunning caldera, from the ancient

city of Akrotiri to the traditional

villages that dot the landscape.

Santorini is not just a destination? it's

an experience that captures the

essence of Greek beauty and

hospitality. Whether it's wandering

through its cobblestone alleys,

sailing into the sunset, or simply

soaking in the panoramic views. Santorini leaves an indelible mark on the heart.

For those enchanted by the serene beauty and romantic ambiance of the Greek Isles, be sure to follow @minogiannisvalantis for more breathtaking visuals of Santorini's unforgettable landscape.

#lifestyle #myuploads #aesthetic #travel #travelingare #photography #architecture #santorini #greece #blue white #sea sun

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maximilfisms · 5 months

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draw me like i'm one of your french girls | thérèse raquin x fem!reader

Summary: Thérèse, trapped in her unwanted marriage to Camille, seeks comfort in Y/N, the talented artist who painted her husband's portrait, in the form of an illicit rendezvous. Or a glimpse on one of those nights where Y/N would sneak into Madame Raquin's shop, fulfill Thérèse's needs, and disappear like ghosts in the air.

Word count: 2k+

Tags: 18+, smut, fingering, cheating, semi-public sex? idk, but they almost got caught, bottom!thérèse, top!reader, what's proofreading?, MDNI!

this is my first fic, and i honestly don't even know what i am doing rip

The moonlight shone its faint light to the labyrinthine streets of Paris, where gaslights cast flickering shadows upon the cobblestone alleys, and the whispers of clandestine affairs lingered like the fragrance of aged wine. Thérèse found solace in the hidden corners of a city draped in secrets. The narrow passages, cloaked in the heavy scent of impending rain, and the hushed murmur of distant voices all served as the backdrop for her forbidden love. It was within this maze of dimly lit alleyways, where the echoes of the footsteps of busy Parisians harmonized with the nocturnal symphony of the city, that she navigated the complexities of their entangled destinies.

The bedroom, perched on the second floor of her aunt, Madame Raquin's shop, became their clandestine haven—a sanctuary veiled in heavy drapes, the creaking sighs of weathered floorboards, and the gaslights flickered outside, transforming her marital bedroom into a cocoon where the artistry of their passion unfolded. The ambient glow painted an intimate tapestry upon the walls, revealing the shared vulnerability of two souls seeking refuge in the shadows.

The air itself seemed to hold the whispers of lovers from eras past, a blend of the city's musky perfume and the intoxicating aroma of forbidden desire. Thérèse, adorned in the trappings of societal expectations, stood before her woman with a yearning that mirrored the palpable tension of the quiet night. Y/N, the painter with fingers that could evoke emotion from pigments, gazed at Thérèse as if deciphering the poetry etched upon her soul. The dim light filtered through the bedroom's heavy drapes, casting Thérèse's silhouette in a dance of shadows that accentuated the soft curves of her vulnerability, and Y/N, a connoisseur of emotion, observed with an artist's discerning eye—a voyeur capturing the essence of clandestine passion in each subtle movement.

"Draw me like I'm one of your French girls," Thérèse whispered, her voice a soft plea that echoed in the dimly lit room, where their secret unfolded against the backdrop of Paris's clandestine allure.

Y/N, attuned to the nuances of their surroundings, nodded in silent agreement despite the subtle yet genuine smile that graced her lips. The room, a haven shrouded in the mysteries of the night, bore witness to the illicit dance of two souls—a dance painted with the strokes of desire, vulnerability, and the unspoken language of their love.

Y/N's hands moved with purpose, much like the strokes of a brush in a canvas that became an intimate exploration of Thérèse's essence. Her slender fingers brushed Thérèse's shoulders, sliding off the brunette's dress off of it, watching as the fabric fell onto her feet. Y/N's eyes glimmered with sheer affection for the woman, her point finger tracing Thérèse's prominent collarbones, down to her sternum, where the valley's of her breasts lay, waiting to be worshiped.

“You truly are a work of art, mon amour,” The artist whispered as she leaned in to place chaste kisses on her soft neck, and Y/N's hands palmed the supple flesh of Thérèse's breasts, touch as tender as the stroke of an artist's brush. Each caress of the canvas mirrored the unspoken language that flowed between them—the language of love that dared not speak its name in the harsh light of day.

Yet, the threat of discovery loomed above them like a guillotine, sharp and unforgiving. Camille, Thérèse's unsuspecting husband, engaged in games just outside, unaware of the symphony of passion that played out on the shop's second floor, on their marital bed.

"We must be cautious," Thérèse whispered, her eyes darting towards the creaking floorboards below. "Madame Raquin and Camille must not suspect."

Y/N, whose heart beat in rhythm with Thérèse's, nodded solemnly. "Our love is a secret garden, Thérèse, one that flourishes in the shadows but withers in the harsh light of judgment.” She spoke as her hands went to cradle Thérèse's cheeks. “I promise to be careful.”

The bedroom, once a marital sanctuary for Thérèse and Camille, transformed into the backdrop of an illicit affair. The fear of discovery heightened the intensity of their connection, turning stolen kisses into acts of rebellion against a world that sought to confine them.

Outside, the city's heartbeat continued, oblivious to the symphony of emotions that echoed within the four walls of the bedroom. Thérèse, her heart torn between duty and desire, reached out to Y/N, their fingers entwining in a silent vow that defied the constraints of their reality.

With the air thick of passion, tender affections, and fear, all that had happened went on like a blur. Both women couldn't remember who leaned in first to trap their lips into a fiery but loving embrace, and yet, the flickering candlelight cast an ethereal glow upon their entangled bodies, the shadows playing upon the tapestry of their clandestine love. Y/N dared to speak, to try and use the last of her reason, to attempt at stopping herself despite knowing that she had gone far too deep, but, Thérèse, overcome by the weight of societal expectations, pressed a trembling finger to Y/N's lips, silencing the unspoken fears that lingered between them.

No words were needed as the artist took the initiative and resumed their kiss, her lips brushing against Thérèse's as the bedroom became a cocoon, shielding them from the judgmental eyes of society. The intimacy between them, though a spark in the vast darkness, burned with the intensity of a thousand suns.

Y/N carefully lay the woman beneath her to the plush bed, hands exploring Thérèse's skin like a caveman threading a path in the unfamiliar wilderness. The tips of her fingertips toyed with Thérèse's hardened nipples, eliciting held back whimpers from the woman laying beneath her.

“Y/N…” Thérèse whispered, but she only gave her woman a smile in response, taking the other nipple to her mouth, and sucking on it like a newborn starved. Thérèse closed her eyes shut, body overwhelmed by the sensations of Y/N's worship, only for those brown orbs to flutter open along with her mouth as two fingers eased their way to her core.

A sly smile tugged in the corners of Y/N's pink lips, gazing up at Thérèse whose pupils were blown wide, and mouth covered with one hand, containing the noises that ought to escape her with each thrust of the artist's long and slender fingers in her tight pussy.

Thérèse's labored breathing, accompanied with the wet sloshing sounds created by her dripping entrance and Y/N's fingers, were the only sounds heard in the stillness of the night. That was before a sudden creaking of the weathered floorboards interrupted the women's intimate bubble, sending shivers down Thérèse's spine. Her eyes widened, but Y/N did not pull back even as her breath was caught in the suspense of the moment. Instead, her fingers only went faster, opting to guide the writhing woman below her to the pinnacle of her high, and the contracting of Thérèse's pussy against her fingers only served as an indication that she was on the right track.

Thérèse struggled to finish the sentence as she held back her moans in between, "Our world would crumble." Y/N hummed in approval as she leaned in to Thérèse's clit, using her tongue to stimulate the woman's bundle of nerves that only made it harder for the latter to control her sounds, more so as she came all over Y/N's face and fingers, legs trembling as the artist's fingers slowed down its thrusts, prolonging the release.

"Quiet, amour," Y/N whispered breathily, a twinge of worry in their voice amidst the obvious arousal. "If Madame Raquin or Camille were to hear—"

The bedroom, though once a haven for marital vows, now bore witness to a love that dared to defy the norms of its time. Thérèse and Y/N, in the quiet moments between heartbeats, exchanged vows that resonated with the soulful ache of a love that existed in the shadows. The night wore on, and with each passing moment, the threat of exposure intensified. Thérèse, torn between the intoxication of love and the fear of societal retribution, felt the weight of their clandestine affair like a stone pressing against her chest. The gaslights outside continued to flicker, casting a gentle glow upon the tangled sheets that bore witness to the stolen moments of Thérèse and Y/N's clandestine affair. The night, though silent, echoed with the lingering whispers of a love that dared to exist in the shadows of the city.

In the quiet aftermath of their shared passion, the room held the remnants of their intimate communion. Thérèse, her senses heightened by the mingling scents of jasmine and musk, traced her fingers along Y/N's bare chest—the contours of a lover and confidante. The air, once heavy with fear, now carried the sweet echo of their shared pleasure. Y/N, eyes filled with a tenderness that mirrored Thérèse's, brushed a strand of hair away from her flushed face.

"You don't know what you do to me, Thérèse," Y/N murmured, their voice a soothing melody that hung in the air. "I hear your voice in my dreams, feel the ghosts of your touch on my body, and crave you like I haven't satiated myself in years."

Thérèse, still lost in the aftermath of their intimacy, met Y/N's gaze with a mixture of gratitude and longing. The world outside, with its judgmental eyes and societal expectations, felt distant—a mere whisper in the night.

"Promise me, Y/N," Thérèse pleaded, her voice a fragile whisper. "Promise me that our love will endure, that it will be a persevering flame against the winds of adversity."

Y/N, caressing Thérèse's cheek with a touch that bordered on reverence, responded, "I don't have to promise anything, Thérèse. Like the stars above, I know our hearts will shine even in the darkest nights."

The bedroom, once charged with the tension of secrecy, now cradled the two lovers in a post-coital embrace. Their entangled limbs spoke of a passion that transcended societal norms, a love that flourished in the clandestine corners of their shared existence.

In the silence that followed, Y/N traced circles on Thérèse's skin, each touch a reassurance of their shared vulnerability. The room, steeped in the essence of their intimacy, held the echoes of their whispered promises and the delicate symphony of their love. The shadows, once a cloak for their secret desires, now danced upon the walls like witnesses to a tale written in the language of tender glances and lingering touches.

Thérèse, her senses attuned to the lingering traces of their passion, gazed into Y/N's eyes as if searching for the permanence of their connection. Y/N, the artist who knew how to breathe life into moments, held Thérèse with a gaze that mirrored the profound depth of their shared intimacy.

As the first light of dawn painted the sky in hues of soft pink, Thérèse and Y/N lay intertwined, bodies and souls entwined in a tapestry of shared vulnerability. The air, now tinged with the promise of a new day, carried the remnants of their intimacy—a scent that lingered like a secret between them.

"Promise me you'll come when I call again," Thérèse pleaded, her gaze locking with Y/N's in a silent pact. "When I need you the most, when I feel my cage even more… promise me you'll come running.”

Y/N, brushing a stray strand of hair from Thérèse's face, nodded with a smile etched on her face. "I'll be here before you know it."

As the sun rose, casting its golden rays upon the city of Paris, Thérèse and Y/N knew that the world awaited their departure from the intimate cocoon they had woven together. With a final, lingering kiss, Thérèse and Y/N parted ways, slipping into the daylight as if reentering a world that demanded conformity. The bedroom, now silent and empty, held the memories of their stolen moments—a gallery of passion that defied the limitations of societal norms.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x female reader #thérèse raquin #therese raquin #wanda maximoff x female reader #smut #in secret #wlw

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