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#you know I couldn't resist a prompt like this
mimisempai · 10 hours
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No dream matches my reality with you
Summary
Aziraphale contemplates his sleeping lover's face, and soon can no longer just watch.
Notes
50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts
Kiss #28: One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss
On Ao3
Rating G -  625 words
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A slight movement beside him caught Aziraphale's eye.
He was leaning against the headboard, reading while Crowley slept, nestled against his thigh. 
The demon had just rolled over and Aziraphale put his book on the nightstand, his reading having lost its appeal compared to the sight of the beloved face sleeping peacefully.
As he watched Crowley's lips curl into a smile in his sleep, Aziraphale wondered with amusement what his lover could be dreaming about.
That smile.
Seen so many times, under so many circumstances.
Never as beautiful as when it was directed at him alone.
Careful not to wake Crowley, the angel slid down to lie on his stomach, his chin resting on one hand as he continued to watch his sleeping demon.
After a moment, he couldn't resist touching him and reached out with his other hand to Crowley's face, stopping just before his fingers made contact with his skin. Feeling a little hesitant because Crowley seemed to be sleeping so peacefully, he stopped himself from closing the distance between his hand and his lover's face and traced the fine features of the beloved face in the air without touching it.
Suddenly, the demon opened his eyes and said in an amused tone, "You know you can touch, Angel?"
Aziraphale chuckled slightly and then, with no reservations now that Crowley was awake, placed his hand on the demon's cheek. His lover hummed with pleasure, the sound almost like a purr, as the angel gently stroked his cheek with his thumb.
He said sheepishly, "Sorry to have woken you from your dream."
Crowley asked, a little surprised, "How do you know it was a dream and not a nightmare?"
Aziraphale traced the demon's lips with his index finger and replied, "You smiled and looked happy."
His finger moved up and delicately traced his lover's eyebrows as he continued, "What were you dreaming about?"
Crowley closed his eyes under the gentle caresses and replied, still smiling, "I don't really remember, except that you must have been in it.
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and asked as his finger continued its path along the thin ridge of the demon's nose, "But if you don't remember, how do you know I was in it?"
"Because your hands don't make me feel like I'm awake."
Aziraphale laughed lightly and his finger was back on the smiling lips, gently caressing the outline.  
Crowley opened his eyes and delicately kissed the angel's fingertips. Unable to resist, Aziraphale took hold of the demon's chin and tilted it toward him before placing his lips on his lover's.
Their lips moved gently and slowly against each other. The kiss was deliciously sweet, not meant to be anything more, just the pleasure of sharing a tender moment, reveling in their closeness.
When they parted to catch their breath, Aziraphale buried his face in Crowley's neck, who wrapped his arm around his shoulders to hold the angel close.
Then, his cheek pressed against his lover's head, the demon murmured in a hoarse voice, "I know it's probably cheesy, but even if I don't remember my dream, I'm sure it pales in comparison to this reality." 
The angel turned his head on the demon's shoulder to look at him, gently caressing his chest in random curves, "I don't care if it's cheesy if that's how you feel. I happen to love my demon, even when he's cheesy."
Aziraphale planted a kiss on the chest, now shaken by Crowley's easy laugh, to which he added his own. 
When their laughter died away, Aziraphale curled up against Crowley, who tightened his arm around him, and angel and demon let sleep take them both. 
Whatever their dreams, they knew that when they awoke, reality would be a thousand times better.
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_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable kisses series : here
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
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yoriyaland · 2 days
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The Red Means I Love You | Prologue
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She treats him differently, she doesn't make fun of him or call him names. She was nice, she was pretty, she wasn't very smart but that's okay, he'll help her study. She was becoming someone who he couldn't let go of, he refused to let her go. She was his source of light... she was his everything and he'll protect her forever.
🎤 PAIRING: yandere!ni-ki x female!reader (Kurasawa Rin)
🎤 GENRE: yandere au
🎤 WORD COUNT: 749
🎤 AUTHOR'S NOTE: this story is inspired by the song 'The Red Means I Love You' by Madds Buckley and the Japanese horror movie 'Liverleaf', the story is quite similar to the movie as is it heavily inspired by it.
______________________________________________________________
"There's a fresh face joining us today." "How did you find out?" "Word's been spreading like wildfire." It was odd, hardly anyone switched schools at this juncture. With high school nearing its conclusion and exams looming large, anyone making such a move must possess remarkable intelligence.
“Alright everybody, please give our new classmate a warm reception," the teacher announced, prompting applause from the students. The newcomer appeared visibly anxious, hands trembling as he clutched a camera hanging from his neck. Avoiding eye contact, he sought out a seat at the rear of the classroom.
Choosing the middle row at the back, he sensed the weight of curious gazes upon him, feeling as though he might be consumed at any moment. Attempting to return some of the looks, it didn’t help that he was the tallest in the class but thanks to his long fringe, no one knew who he was looking at.
Finally, school ended. The relentless stares had become overwhelming. Though it was normal for this school, it was located in the mountains. Barely anyone wants to deal with having to walk so far, even if they catch the bus, they still need to walk up the mountain so it was normal for them to be surprised that there was actually a new student. People in this school were either born around this small town or didn’t have enough money to send their kids to a better school.
He liked it. The school's entrance was adorned with an array of flowers, among which the spider lilies stood out, their vibrant red akin to the sun. With his camera slung around his neck, he couldn't resist snapping a photo, he loves taking pictures of pretty things.
“Oi Rin-chan, don’t forget to do the homework for Japanese!” “I know, I know,” Rin replied, unlocking her bike and wheeling it out of the school gates. Just before she set off down the road, she noticed the new student engrossed in photographing the flowers. Amused by his comical poses, she couldn't help but chuckle, causing him to straighten up abruptly.
“Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you. I was gonna walk away but couldn’t help but notice you.” She chuckled once more. “It’s alright…” his voice barely audible over the wind. “Everybody loves making fun of me anyways…” he mumbled, though Rin caught every word. “I just thought you looked adorable trying to find the perfect angle," she reassured him with a smile, but he averted his gaze, embarrassment flushing his cheeks. The red started to spread on his face and he wanted the ground to eat him alive.
Trying to maintain his composure, he returned to photographing the flowers as Rin approached, still holding her bicycle. "Mind if I take a look?" she asked, surprising him with her friendliness. "I'm Kurasawa Rin by the way, but you can call me Rin."
The boy nodded before handing her the camera, the strap was still hung around his neck so she had to move really close in order to see the pictures. His face started to betray him once more, his cheek was now hotter than ever.
“You're quite the photographer, Riki, was it?” Rin inquired, double-checking the name she heard from the teacher, she wasn’t really one to listen. “Y-yeah, I’m Riki… but I would prefer if you call me Ni-ki instead…” He stammered.
“Sure,” Rin agreed cheerfully, noting Ni-ki's curiosity. Most people would question his preference, but she accepted it without hesitation, which both intrigued and unnerved him.
“Well, I should head home now. It'll be dark soon. You should go too, Ni-ki," she advised before walking away with her bike, and as she walked down the road he couldn’t help but grab the camera and attempt to capture the figure. It was a pretty scene, the path she was walking revealed the town's structure which was breathtaking. He thought it was a perfect addition to his 'Movie Scene' collection. He jumped a little as she turned back to catch him mid-action.
Startled by her sudden glance backward, he feared she would find him creepy, but instead, she smiled—a charming gesture that melted his heart. She did a peace sign with one hand while the other held onto the handle. He captures it. His heart skipped a beat as she turned away and continued to walk down the road. He wanted more. He wanted to capture her beauty more. He finally thought of a new collection. He was gonna call it the 'Kurasawa' collection. He can't wait to capture more pictures for this collection.
To be Continue
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lachodaily · 8 months
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Lacho barbienhiemer?
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day 35: Lacho as Barbenheimer (or, Lalo loves a good hat)
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rumor-weed · 8 months
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The cool of the air settled around Archibald as he walked through the forest. It was ominous enough, but the note that had asked him to be there chilled him even deeper.
There's not "mushroom" in here and I'm getting kind of lonely. I think it's time you and I met because you could be my only. I'm getting out my banjo and I'm waiting for you here. I'll only play the notes you want when you're feeling
The last word was smudged, and Archibald, in retrospect, was not entirely sure why he decided to follow the tucked-away map that charted a course in red ink through the fungus mortis woods. Still, he had never received a poem before, and though you would never suspect it, he was quite a fan of banjo music.
He perked up a little when he heard the distant, melodic twangs of the world's most beautiful instrument (if you were to get rid of all the better ones). Surely, things couldn't be all bad if someone was playing the banjo.
As he followed the sound, it grew to sound less like tuning and more like an intense, rapid, thing, and his own speed increased with the music. "Oh, joy! It's bluegrass!" He excitedly chirped.
But when he got to the clearing, the music stopped as if pausing for a breath. And followed soon, a soft, tender voice came from behind him.
"It's me. Hi. I'm the problem it's me,"
Archibald whipped around in shock. "Oh! I'm sorry, I was mistaken. I thought you were going to play bluegrass. I got your letter. What was it you wanted from me?"
The Mushroom batted pretty eyes, half smiled at him and played a few more notes. "I don't know what I want, so don't ask me, because I'm still trying to find a place in this world."
"Oh. Well, you were the one who contacted me. I thought there was a reason."
"You should've said "No", you should've gone home. You should've thought twice 'fore you let it all go," the Mushroom responded in song.
"Well, on all accounts, you are correct. I don't think it matters, but -"
"So I start a fight 'cause I need to feel something, and you do what you want 'cause I'm not what you wanted,"
"Oh. Um... this does sound a bit like a you problem. I'm afraid I don't even know you!"
"You never did give a damn thing, honey, but I cried, cried for you. And I know you wouldn't have told nobody if I died, died for you, died for you," She swifted singingly.
"You've... you've done this one already." He felt quite uncomfortable. The kind of uncomfortable one might feel after being summoned into the woods by a pretty stranger with a banjo singing Taylor Swift lyrics at you but never doing a full song. He began to hear rustling from behind him as someone approached. He turned around, spotting a figure in the woods.
"Do you still feel like you know what you're doing? 'Cause I don't think you do," She asked, and Archibald saw the small figure approach. A young asparagus, familiar to him.
He turned, eyes full of tears. "Whatever I did to you, I'm sorry! Please just let me go! I'm not that big of a Swiftie, I - I only have her early albums, and -"
She shook her head solemnly. "Band-aids don't fix bullet holes, you say sorry just for show."
"I really do mean it, actually -"
The tiny asparagus cleared his throat, and Archibald turned back in time to see him raise a gun.
"Junior!" He cried out. "Why?"
"You know exactly why," Junior said, his eyes narrowed as he focused.
Archibald's phone began to ring from the pocket of his sweater vest.
"Sorry, the old Archibald can't come to the phone right now. Why? Because he's dead." The Mushroom mocked him
"No, no! Please! No!" He shrieked, but he was cut off as the world went dark.
The last thing he heard was the beautiful twang of a banjo, and a mushroom softly singing, "You're tied together with a smile but you're coming undone. Goodbye, baby... With a smile, baby, baby..."
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ozzgin · 4 months
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I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol
If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!
Best wishes
-🌟
I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)
Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
TW: violence
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
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"Fantastic show tonight!"
The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.
"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 
"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."
You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 
Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.
Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.
So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.
"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.
That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.
When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 
You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.
Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:
"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"
You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 
"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"
As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.
"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.
"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 
As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.
You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 
"Should we leave?"
You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.
"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."
He grins at your last statement.
"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"
You nod.
"Then let's get you undressed, miss."
Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 
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angelltheninth · 7 months
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Lovesick Honkai Star Rail Characters
Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luka, Sampo, Luocha, Welt x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, crushes, kissing, flirting, fights, bridal carry, texting, injuries, cuddles, PDA
A/N: Loved doing this for the JJK characters so I couldn't resist the Honkai guys.
Lovesick!Blade hugs you so close when you cuddle that you have no chance of escape. He's possessive for sure when he really, really likes you, which manifests in him biting at your neck, quite hard too. It leaves no doubt that you're in a relationship with someone which he quite likes, it means there's less people he has to... scare away.
Lovesick!Dan Heng is quite a bit more cute when he gets to this stage. A lot more touchy as he will hold your face when you're kissing or let his tail wrap around you to hold you even closer. One sure way that you know he's getting to the point of no return with his feelings is when he feels fully comfortable purring around you.
Lovesick!Gepard tries to hide the fact that he's into you really hard. He needs to try and remain professional but there's definitely favoritism happening. Ends up gravitating to you a lot more, making sure you have everything, checking up on you more then his other guards and finding excuses to bring you things.
Lovesick!Jing Yuan is a lot more flirty then usual in hopes you'll think that he's just like that. You know he's flirty but now he's doing it every time he sees you. Not only that but when you're in public he kisses your hand and your cheek when complimenting you, his smile contagious and prompting you to stick close to him to get more.
Lovesick!Luka gets so smitten with you that it starts to effect his performance in the ring a little. It's nothing big but he's getting punched more times then before. He stares you, not paying attention for second and there goes his lip, now bloody. It's not a bad injury and it's in a perfect place for you to kiss after the fight.
Lovesick!Sampo wants to kiss and cuddle with you all the time. It's not enough to just do it in between missions, it starts to happen during missions as well. Dangerous, yes, very, but he can't help the blush that he gets when he hears you gasping for air from his kiss. If only you were alone, he could make you do more then gasp.
Lovesick!Luocha always visits you more then anyone else. Not because you're sick but because he wants to be in your company. Comfortable silence is good enough for him too. But what he likes the most is the long walks in nature, where you can sit down and look at the sunset while kissing and then have him bridal carry you home.
Lovesick!Welt suddenly starts sending a lot more texts then usual. It's not to the point of blowing up your phone or anything but he's making an effort to talk to you a lot more while you're apart. Takes him a while to ask you on a proper date but that doesn't happen over text, he wants to see your face when he does it.
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chiyoso · 4 months
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chiyo ik ur taking a break but i need... i need a jjk fan to hear this
,,,,,, g g g g gojo satoru and you getting married but ,,, but,,,, you're so irresistible you both had,,, yk,,, in the car while going to the church... only wearing your veil too....
WAIT IS THAT BAD
on another note i do hope your college life treats u well cause... yeah <33 i read that you're on medication? i wish you a get well soon mwamwamwa and nothing but luck and fortune as always hehehe
“wedding day, breeding day”
j. kaisen : gojo satoru.
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gojo satoru, the strongest, and gojo satoru, the impatient. he always was, and that impatience will not stop him from dicking you down on your way to the church, just a car ride away before the event, the event of your wedding with him.
▶NOTE. i can't resist the idea, and i wanna get used to taking requests so... i'm gonna use your prompt to practice my mindset, thank you for checking up on me jiji ilysfm <33!!
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“y-you just... you just couldn't wait, could you?”
“how the—fuck, how could i mamas?”
the poor driver's cheeks and ears flushed a sinful pink hearing your broken sobs, now debating if he shouldn't partake in guilt, or... keep the window down to listen to the sounds of sex behind him.
you whisper, or attempt to. “the driver- ’t-toru the driver's—” “—don't care, don't care, don't care.” he speaks out with every thrust, his moans growing and mixing with yours.
the limousine continues to drive, to the church, but in comparison to earlier's driving, it had slowed down quite a bit, benefitting your soon-to-be-husband's stability. your hamstrings were pressed against his ruffled, messed up torso, the rest of your legs hung over his shoulders.
“it's-... y-you know it's bad to see your partner before—s-shit!” you moan out arching your head against the window, letting satoru see your face.
you gave up the act once satoru brought a hand down between your legs, his thumb beginning to rub your pretty clit with a mischievous, slurred smile. “my clan wanted the publicity for this shit,”
he pauses his movement, his cock buried into yours, he could feel you tense, clenching him, feeling that lubricated twitching around him.
you look up to him dazed and puzzled, and he curls himself forward, towering over your seated form. “shocking news! the gojo heir, marrying!?”
he grins, attempting to pull his cock right out of you slowly, you were just so tight, so warm, holding onto him and his needy cock like that.
“s-shit baby,” he moves one of your legs down while he continued to hold the other over his shoulder. satoru's free hand gets occupied by his cock, stroking himself while you bit down your bottom lip to the sexy sight.
“stuck-ups, all of them,” he says bitterly with a grunt, but that bitterment melts once he moves his hips forwards again, rubbing the underside of his aching cock above your leaky pussy, stimulating hot pleasure onto your clit.
you whimper, seeing him prepare his cock again to enter inside you, but the limousine comes to a halt. his eyes dart up from you, towards the window behind; annoying, blinding camera flashes, clueless happy people, starstrucked paparazzi—and he grins once more.
“look mamas, they're all so damn eager for us,”
just like both of your warm cores, twitching against each other. “prying, dirty fucks,” he hisses once he prys open your downed leg wider to the side, giving him a gate to heaven itself.
flash one, flash two, three, and more. the amount of times a flash blinds the two of you from outside the limousine, he thrusts his cock inside simultaneously, urgently, his cock getting sucked up by your insides while embracing your leg over his shoulder. “th-that's it baby, just like that, take me all, take me all,” he sucks up a shaky inhale.
“fuck—fuck—fuck,” satoru slurrs out with every thrust, and all you could do was pant heavily, a hand covering your mouth to muffle your soft mewling. “gonna cum baby? you gonna cum? i can feel—i feel your insides taking me in so well,”
“shit mamas,” warmth coiled behind his spine, satoru's thrusts became sloppier, frantic, chasing his satisfaction, unsteady and throaty exhales more pronounced. “play with your dirty pussy,”
“play—fuuuck, fuck i'm gonna-” both of his hands clung around on your leg, hazy eyes now closing to focus on that increasing sensation of heat.
gritted teeth, allowing a small stream of drool to fall on the corner of his lips, and your body caved in to the discomfort of the position, laying limp on your side, with your face towards the front of the car, where you met the driver's eyes briefly on the rearview mirror. “s-so good ’toru, so good so g-...”
“gonna cum—gonna cum, gonna—fucking—cum, gonna fill you up, gonna fill you up so good,” he speaks in between each pound inside you, his muscles tensing up.
“gonna make you my wife with this cum-” he puts your leg down, repositioning himself frantically by laying you straight against the seat, inserting his cock inside you again once your pussy was infront of him. “s-sator-” “fuck! i'm cumming baby i'm-”
“fuuuck,” your walls clench around his cock, thrusting in one final time, flooding his hot cum inside your creamy cunt, mixing in with yours.
“p-pretty—fucking—pussy,” satoru overwhelms himself during his high, shuddering in each repeated thrusts, while you spasmed violently in your orgasm. “all mine, all mine, all fucking mi—”
flash, flash, and flash. “ah,” the door swings open merrily, muted noises from outside now, loud, blaring. multiple gasps and cussing simultaneously heard, a blinding light shining on your breeding session, on your soon-to-be husband's bare ass anyways.
annoyed, but quick, satoru removes his jacket, tossing it infront of your face, along with hiding your torso. he knew you were too weak to react, let alone cover yourself for some decency, and what kind of future spouse will he be if he let his pretty, and dazed wife be ridiculed over this?
he can see it all. not only curses, but tabloids, tabloid after tabloid, 'the gojo clan's heir, claiming a taboo before his wedding'. articles of public indency, the act of premarital sex! tarnishing the prestigious name and reputation of his clan!
his god-awful, forsaken clan.
satoru clicked his tongue, his face once pleasured, now contorting to repulsion, disgust, looking over to his shoulder for the paparazzi to take photos of his flushed, red side profile.
his hands subconsciously move down to your waist, holding you close to him while you recovered slowly, placing his badly placed attention back to yours again.
“hey baby,” he pulls out slowly, practicing retraint from grunting, biting down his bottom lip, still feeling your insides hold his cock tightly.
“h-hm?” satoru makes sure you're hidden infront of his thankfully large frame, properly placing his jacket that he gave you covering your entire bare torso, leaning down to give you tender kisses along the stream lines of your tears.
“hmhm, pretty, pretty girl,” he towers over you protectively, his thumb making circles along your abdomen lovingly.
“you don't mind if we marry with papers instead, right baby?”
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NOT AT ALL SATORU. NOT AT ALL. I DONT MIND AT ALL.
taglist. @v3lv3tf0x @ainescribe @wanderingconstellations @painted-hills @screampied @meowzfordayz @deathstardiary @sleep-deprivedracoon @ciarchivez @k1an4a @pixieskie @ruanais
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helloporcelain · 7 months
Text
Doux
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Astarion/fem!Tav Rating: explicit (18+)  Tags: oral sex (involving period blood), piv sex, blood drinking, mutual pining, slow burn, orgasm denial, mentions of Astarion's trauma (but not graphic), there's also like the TINIEST mention of rimming & breathplay but i promise it's so mild, oneshot Summary: Tav seemed perfectly normal in their day to day, but Astarion knew that she was avoiding him. It had been that way since the last time he had fed on her. Read on AO3 if you prefer
Tav couldn't help but celebrate. 
The last couple of days had been grueling. Gods, it had felt so good to finally get back to camp. A dip in the cool river, followed by a change into the lovely dress Alfira had gifted her, had Tav feeling like a brand new person for the night. She had stuffed herself so full on a feast of cheese pies and grilled pork belly that she nearly threw up, and then after, she dramatically retold the story of the goblin slaying to the group of wide-eyed children. It felt like a massive weight was lifted off her shoulders – she and her companions had been awarded a win, one they really needed.
Grateful tieflings swarmed Tav the entire night, showering her with wine-fueled hugs of gratitude. She waved off their praises, insisting that it had been a team effort and encouraged the others to accept their share of recognition as well, because there was no way she could’ve done it all by herself. Eventually, Tav found herself sandwiched between Shadowheart and Karlach on a log. The two women were drunk and engaged in unabashed flirtatious banter with each other. Tav, however, kept her wits about her. She took a swig from a tepid mug of ale, her eyes locked onto Astarion across the camp. He was visibly annoyed by the children surrounding him, all clamoring to catch a glimpse of the bow he used to slay goblins.
In the midst of all the chaos, he caught her staring at him through the dancing tieflings. Astarion tipped his head sideways, as if asking a question. Startled, she choked on her drink, inadvertently spilling some on Karlach. 
“Oops,” Tav said, as Shadowheart leaned over her lap to wipe off the ale from Karlach’s pants before the sizzle of the burning liquid caused her to yelp and quickly withdraw her hand.
“We really need to fix that, don’t we?” Shadowheart muttered sarcastically, fanning her injured hand, attempting to cool it down.
“Maybe lay off the wine,” Tav suggested sarcastically. “I’m going to go make my rounds. The people need their gracious host.”
She set off to mingle with the others, and felt the stare radiating through her as she joined the nearby chatter. Lia and Cal, to be exact, were begging for Rolan to present some fireworks. Rolan conjured a rather underwhelming prestidigitation spell, prompting Tav to tuck her mug under her armpit and offer a polite clap after an awkward pause. Round and round, Tav meandered through the camp as she talked to everyone, hells, even Withers, avoiding Astarion as if her life depended on it. With each new person, they topped her mug off with fresh ale. 
As the night wore on and the ale warmed her cheeks, Tav found herself growing increasingly uninhibited. By the time she reached Halsin, she couldn’t resist flirting with him. Who could blame her? Halsin’s gigantic muscles had called out to her, and he was nothing if not good natured. The mountain of an elf laughed off her inebriated advances gently – his head was elsewhere, not that she blamed him. 
“There are many grateful people here who would want to spend time with you,” Halsin said, a glint in his eye. Tav wanted to follow the look, but chose not to, knowing where it trailed behind her. “I must not keep you all to myself. As enjoyable as that may be.” 
She offered something of an agreement before she wandered off to the nearby river, seeking solace and a moment to contemplate on her thoughts, away from the songs and dancing. 
**
The first time Astarion fed on her, Tav had accidentally fallen into a trance one night outside her tent. She had insisted the rest of her companions get some sleep while she cleaned up from the mess they made at supper. After washing the cauldron out in the river, she lugged it back to the fire and had meant to sit down for just a second of rest. Before she knew it, she had drifted off, only to awaken with Astarion hovering over her, teeth bared, wearing an expression she had never seen before. With a dagger pressed to his chest, the look was gone, replaced by a frantic attempt to explain why he had loomed over her so ominously. She couldn't fathom why he was scared; he knew her knife skills were almost as poor as Gale's.
When he confessed the truth, Tav's heart grew heavy – heavy for the way he asked for her trust, no, insisted that she could trust him. Every instinct in her screamed she would be foolish to, but she did.
But she was firm; he could feed on her this one time. After that, it was enemies only, or else. Companions weren’t food, they needed their strength just as he did, and he would not become accustomed to using her – or any of them, for that matter – to satisfy his needs.
Not that any of the others lined up to be his bloodwell... though the group tolerated Astarion, there’d been a sense of uneasiness among the others about the truth. 
Tav braced herself for discomfort at best (and suffering, at worst), but she was completely thrown when all she felt was desire. The unexpected pleasure took her by surprise, though it made sense in hindsight. If it were nothing but pain, vampires wouldn't have gained their notorious reputation for seduction. It felt as though Astarion had plunged his fingers into the depths of her chest and held her heart in a vice-like grip. The more blood he drew from her, the more she wanted for Astarion to take everything he needed, even at the cost of her own life. In the briefest second, Tav felt herself fading away to the gentle chill of her lifesource dwindling, her neck so numb she couldn’t parse out where his fangs were.  In the end, she barely pushed him off her, doubting his self control. Tav noticed the change in Astarion immediately – his face looked brighter, his eyes less dull. Before he left, he promised he wouldn’t forget the gift that she had given him. 
Two weeks later, Tav surprised herself by offering her blood to him a second time.
The camp was quieter than usual. It had been a long day and it had taken its toll on them all. Auntie Ethel turned out to be much more than they had anticipated – offering no cure, only trouble. Shadowheart had gone to her tent for her evening prayers. Gale blew his candles out early, claiming eight hours of sleep was necessary for his mind, body, and complexion. The rest sat by the fire, settling for a bit of relaxation before they retired for the night. Lae’zel, Wyll and Karlach were engaged in a very competitive game of cards while Astarion lounged nearby, engrossed in a book he had stolen from the hag’s teahouse.
Tav had been writing furiously in her journal next to him, when she reached down to her satchel, rummaging through to find an apple for dessert. She couldn’t help but peek at him through the corner of her eye. Astarion had been unusually silent since their return to camp. She had a feeling he was tense from their run in with the monster hunter earlier that day. During the exchange, she noticed a second of panic run across his face as Gandrel revealed who he was searching to capture. The monster hunter never did end up accomplishing his job – courtesy of Astarion and his dagger. 
“If you have something to say, Tav, darling,” he said, his eyes fixed on his book. “You should just say it. It’s ill-mannered to stare.” 
Tav turned the apple over in her lap, contemplating if it was smart to broach the subject, then began nonchalantly, “I don’t suppose you want to address what happened earlier.”
“You want to hear about Cazador,” Astarion said with a tired disdain. “My old master. Before the mind flayers took me from him. Before this strange, twisted freedom.” He slammed the book shut with one hand, and Tav listened intently as he painted a picture of Cazador. A cruel, paranoid master who tortured Astarion for two centuries. A monster obsessed with power, a monster of which it was very clear that Astarion would go to great lengths to never return to.
It was so much worse than Astarion had let on. 
“Why do you think he wants you alive?” she asked.
Astarion pursed his lips. “Maybe he wants to make an example of me. To show what happens to runaways.” He cast his eyes aside before giving her a solemn look. “Or, maybe, he thinks death is too good for me.” 
Tav had always known that Astarion wore a mask, but she had never realized just how often it was in place. It was a remarkably well crafted one, but every mask was bound to slip off at some point. From the very first day they crossed paths, she had found something about him to be perplexing, though she couldn't put her finger on it.  She had thought of him as arrogant, a little malicious, and selfish. Yet, in that moment, as his gaze drifted far away into the embers of the fire, she saw something else—a hint of fear.
“I’m sorry, Astarion,” she said with sincerity. There wasn’t much else for her to say, and she doubted he wanted empty platitudes. 
Astarion nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, but – this isn’t about sympathy. It’s about knowing what we might be up against. The mind flayers aren’t the only monsters out there, hunting us. All I’m asking is that you keep your eyes open, and watch out for anything lurking in the shadows.” 
Her hand inched closer to his fingers, an inhumane chill radiating from them. Tav thought about putting her hand over his in comfort, but thought it too intimate of a gesture for them. “As long as I’m around, I’ll watch your back,” she promised. “You will never go back to him. I won’t let it happen.” 
Astarion’s posture relaxed as he pulled his hand away from the warmth of hers, and gave her a smile – the one that never reached his eyes.  “What more could I ask for? Now, is that all?” 
His fingers tapped a restless beat on his book, as though they might start flipping the pages on their own. Tav studied his face. He had deep mauve bags under his eyes, and his gaze had darkened to the color of oxblood. She wondered how many animals he must have voraciously consumed to still remain so far from the vibrant state he had been in after she had shared her blood with him. Tav weighed the decision to offer him her blood again. She pictured Astarion feeding on rats as if daintily sipping tea from a tiny cup and it was somewhat amusing, but mostly it just made her pity him.
“I was thinking…” she paused, looking down to the apple in her lap. She brought it up to her face and peered at it, checking it for worms. 
“Oh no. That’s never a good sign.” 
Rolling her eyes, she continued, "...that you looked more weary than usual. Perhaps you might fancy a bite?" His fingers slowed their tapping as his eyes fixated on her mouth. Tav crunched into the apple and cocked her head at him.
"Well," Astarion replied, a hint of pleasant surprise in his tone. "I suppose if you're offering a treat, then who am I to turn you down?"
“Don’t misunderstand me,” Tav said, expression stern as she emphasized her words. “We won’t make a habit of this. But… we do need you strong for when we reach the goblin camp.” 
Astarion’s smile changed into the nefarious smirk that she was familiar with. “If you say so,” he purred, leaning closer to whisper in her ear.  “Come to my tent after the others have fallen asleep.” 
Two hours later, she cursed herself for picking the furthest possible area from him to lay down her tent.  Tav quietly crept across the camp to Astarion, pausing every couple of steps just to listen for snores. She just didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea; as the unofficial leader of the group, feeding Astarion was a purely strategic move.
Sneaking past Karlach was nerve-wracking – she had an open tent, explaining that she ran too hot in an enclosed space. Luckily, the barbarian slept still like a boulder. It was Scratch, who dozed at her feet, that made Tav pause. She brought her finger to her lips and gestured for the dog to stay quiet, his sleepy eyes following her until she reached Astarion's tent. She crouched and leaned against the closed fabric. 
Not knowing what to say, Tav whispered, “Dinner’s here.”
“Cute. Come in, darling.” 
Tav poked into the tent and found him reclining on his bedroll, propped up by an excessive number of pillows, more than anyone else had. He had stolen them in Waukeen’s Rest, grumbling about missing the comfort of a proper bed like a civilized person. It was her first time seeing the inside of his tent, and she couldn't resist taking it all in. The inside was dimly lit by a single candle atop a stack of looted books, and next to him was a tray hosting an array of colorful rings and necklaces he collected from both unsuspecting innocents and dead bodies. Even out in the wilderness, Astarion was opulent. He had changed into his fine nightclothes and looked at her with a raised eyebrow – she was still wearing her muddy, fight-stained cloak.  
“Ah, right.” She looked down at herself. “I washed up, promise. Just didn’t want to traipse around at this hour in my nightshirt.” She shrugged the coat off onto the ground, revealing a plain night outfit. “I don’t plan on being in here long.” 
"Well, make yourself comfortable nonetheless," Astarion beckoned, sitting up and gesturing towards the snug space they now shared. “Just be very quiet and our little midnight rendezvous will stay a secret.” He shuffled on his pillows, inviting her closer.
“I should’ve hoarded some pillows like you,” Tav remarked. “You’re resting like a little princess.” 
Astarion chuckled. "Oh, my dear, you'll be sleeping quite soundly after I'm finished here. Come, sit on my lap." She hesitated, making a reluctant face. 
"Now, don't be difficult," he continued with a playful grin. "It'll be far more comfortable for you this way. I wouldn't want to accidentally suffocate you again, as I nearly did last time." Tav inched towards him, careful to not touch anywhere but the bedroll. She knelt down and followed his request, straddling him while placing a hand on his shoulder for support. A sudden shiver ran down her spine as she felt just how icy he was, catching her off guard.
"Sorry," Tav broke the silence, "You’re so cold. I grew up with the chill, but you’re different."
“I have bad circulation,” Astarion replied dryly.
Tav shifted her body on him, hoping he didn’t realize how mortified she was. "Are you comfortable?" 
He responded with an earnest chuckle and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. "You're rather adorable, aren't you?" He gently pushed her face to the side, positioning her neck at the perfect angle for him. "I knew you liked this more than you let on."
“Don’t speak nonsense,” she spluttered, her head snapping back to look at him. “I am doing you a favor.” 
Astarion adjusted her face to the side again, his hand now more firmly gripping her chin. “Don’t be coy,” he murmured, low and seductive. “Your body has already given you away.” 
He leaned into her neck, taking in her smell, lips hovering over her bare skin. “I could feel it, you know, as I was getting lost in your neck. Your little shakes of excitement.” Tav’s back stiffened and she felt the urge to leap and run out the tent, but his other arm tightened its grasp around her hip. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
Her body betrayed her when she gasped as his mouth pressed against her skin, goosebumps prickling her arms and the back of her neck.
“You don’t have to say a thing. I already know how you feel. I feel it too.” 
And then he sunk his fangs into the pulse of Tav’s neck, her fingers digging into his arm. Her stinging skin parted under his sharp teeth with frightening ease. Tav never thought of herself as delicate, but she felt as vulnerable as a little rabbit torn apart by a hound.
She jerked suddenly when Astarion bit down harder, willing her frantically beating heart to pump more blood faster into his mouth. He made a small noise, something resembling relief, as each droplet surged past his lips. Sucking away and lapping at the wound at the base of her neck, as if he were merely cleaning up a small mess he made, caused an electric sensation to shoot through her spine and then down to her groin. His hands dug a tighter grip into the sides of her body as he sucked and sucked and sucked. Black dots slowly speckled her vision as if distant stars were blinking into existence. She let out a choked whimper, her body quivering beyond her control.  Blissed out crimson eyes met hers as he pulled away briefly, his lips glistening with her life's essence. His gaze burned into her, the hunger swirling in his eyes.
“That’s a strange definition of quiet.” 
Before she could reply, Astarion placed a firm palm over her mouth. With his lips away from her neck, she felt her blood flow down her collarbones, dripping into the hollow of her chest. He tongued at the trail at the top of her shoulders, lapping up the burgundy rivulets. She shuddered as he went lower to her ruffled nightshirt, and he gently pulled down at it just enough to lazily clean up the remaining droplets at the top of her breasts. 
Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to control her breathing, and that was when Tav noticed the hardness pressed underneath her. “Just a little more, darling,” Astarion panted.
His tongue scorched on her skin as he licked up the trail, fangs grazing her skin on his way back to the puncture marks. His hand fell from Tav’s mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head as another gush of warm blood hit his tongue, coating every crevice of his mouth.
“Astarion.”
His name tumbled out from her in a moan, as she was painfully aware in equal parts both of the erection against her and the wetness soaking through her undergarment. He didn’t respond, but he did stop suckling at her neck. “You can stop now.” 
Then with a degree of reluctance, he removed his lips from her, mouth and chin so completely covered in her blood that it looked morbidly lewd. Tav looked up at him with wide eyes, heart pounding. 
“We could get some privacy,” Astarion murmured after a few seconds passed. His fingers traced down her back, sending a tickle through her backbone. She stiffened, keeping her eyes fixed on his, a reply trapped in her throat.  “To enjoy ourselves more. I know somewhere quiet, not far from here.” He shifted his lap and pressed himself against her, to show her what he meant, if he wasn’t clear enough. 
Tav’s resolve wavered for a moment, but she quickly composed herself and moved to push herself off him, though his arms behind her back kept her in place. “That– that's enough, actually,” she responded, her ragged breath catching up to an even pace. She wasn’t going to respond to his suggestion. Tav knew he was toying with her, that he thought her naive.
“You’re looking better already, for a dead man,” Tav said coolly. He huffed in annoyance and leaned back, granting her space to stand up from his lap. “Your eyes,” she observed. “They glow when you feed on me. A person’s blood does wonders for you."
Astarion lifted his hand up to his mouth, swiping off the wet, shining blood. He coated his fingers with what remained and languidly sucked, keeping a fixed gaze on her that made her want to run for the hills. 
“That is the understatement of the century, my dear.” 
Tav tried to hide the way her fingers trembled as she attempted to button up her cloak, haphazardly connecting the wrong ones. He watched her intently as she covered up his bite with the garment.  She opened the flap halfway and, before she left, turned to face Astarion, her voice firm. “Don’t expect this again.”
Astarion offered a wry smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
**
Astarion didn't fancy himself a connoisseur of puzzles and riddles. He loathed prolonged attempts at figuring things out. Patience was a virtue he seldom possessed, especially if figuring out something – or someone – took too long. He supposed he'd grown accustomed to resolving things rather quickly, a skill honed during centuries of servitude to his demanding master, Cazador.
Well… former master. But Astarion didn't want to regard Cazador in past terms, not just yet. He didn’t feel he had the luxury. Not while the wicked vampire lord was actively searching for him. Astarion was skilled at deception, but he refused to lie to himself; fear gnawed at him relentlessly and he found himself barely able to meditate in peace most of the time. He was plagued by nightmares of Cazador finding him and dragging him back into his clutches. So, he conceived of backup plan upon backup plan. He didn’t entirely rule out Raphael – the devil potentially had the power to free him from Cazador, but it would undoubtedly come with strings attached. Would the worm wriggling behind his eye be key to his freedom? Perhaps, if he didn’t turn into a mindflayer first. 
Ironically, all of those possibilities just meant merely shifting him from one master’s control to another.
Astarion sighed, keeping a watchful eye on Mol. She thought she was being quite sneaky, attempting to pickpocket him. He flicked the child in the forehead as punishment, and sent her scampering away with a handful of rings he had deliberately allowed her to take.
Why had he been granted a second, well, technically third chance at life, only to be confronted with one grim option after another? What had he done in his previous life to deserve this? He had been so young when he turned, Astarion couldn't quite recall the details anymore. He remembered working for the government—and probably was not the most benevolent magistrate back then—but surely, he couldn't have been any worse than any other charlatan. It’s not like he kicked children or orchestrated an illicit gnome trafficking ring, right?
His chain of thoughts broke at the sight of Tav’s bright eyes locked on him from across the camp. She averted her gaze when he returned the look. After that, all he could see was the curtain of her hair veiling her face as she maneuvered around the camp, chatting with everybody else.
Tav seemed perfectly normal in their day to day, but Astarion knew that she was avoiding him. It had been that way since the last time he had fed on her. And she was right to avoid him; it was a foolish thing she had done, trusting Astarion like that. She just couldn’t help herself, could she? Anyone who batted an eyelash at her and cried a sob story got a helping hand from her, it didn’t matter who. She didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t how the world worked – some people weren’t destined to be helped, no matter how often they prayed to the gods.
Tav was good and it sickened him. 
Without her, Astarion thought, he would’ve been content to let the tieflings meet their fate, either slaughtered on the road or at the hands of the druids – it didn’t make a difference to him. In fact, he doubted the others really cared to resolve the whole Druids vs Tieflings dispute in the midst of their tadpole predicament. But Tav rallied them just the right amount that none of them could ever say no to her.
The others genuinely valued her opinion, and often looked to her for guidance, whether they realized it or not. Being on Tav’s good side was the intelligent thing to do, Astarion had quickly gathered. She had vouched for him when the others recoiled at his true nature – most would have stabbed a stake through his heart for what he stupidly attempted to do that night. He needed her on his side. Astarion wasn’t sure what would end up happening after reaching Moonrise Towers, and he was ashamed to admit he didn’t want to go at it alone. He didn’t know how to be alone. The entire concept of solitude unsettled him.
The men and women he was accustomed to manipulating for Cazador crumbled before him with little effort. Seduction had been his modus operandi for over two centuries. Honeyed words and enticing caresses were second nature to Astarion, always serving as a sinister means to a grim end – delivering innocent victims into the clutches of Cazador for torture, death, or worse.
This was precisely what made Tav simultaneously so magnetic and so frustrating. She hadn't succumbed to his charms as expected. Astarion had even briefly entertained the possibility that maybe she just wasn’t interested in men, but that idea was dismissed when he overheard a late-night conversation between her and Lae’zel, who had made quite an aggressive advance – one she promptly rebuffed. So, what would it take to make her more receptive to his advances?
“Sulking will ruin your pretty face, Astarion.” Shadowheart’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I thought you, of all people,  would know how to have a little fun tonight.”
He scoffed at her, dramatically eyeing her figure up and down. “If that were possible, then you would be the ugliest one here, my dear.” 
Shadowheart stared at him for a moment and then broke out into an uncharacteristic giggle. “We have a long road ahead – be happy that we are all still in one piece, and celebrate for just one night.  I know I am,” she said, waving a bottle of wine towards him. 
“Is that Marsember Blush?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, recognizing the fine vintage wine. “Where did you unearth that? I know that didn’t come from the tiefling’s sorry supplies.”
“You’re not the only one with sticky fingers,” Shadowheart replied, a sly smile on her lips. “And no, I’m not offering any to you. I already have someone to share it with.” With that, she made her way back to the fire near Karlach, who was engrossed in showing the tiefling children her burning Hellion heart. 
He scanned the area for Tav and he found her staring at Halsin with an adoring look. Astarion couldn’t help but feel envious that he wasn’t the recipient of the smile, so gentle that it betrayed the notorious reputation that followed dark elves. He frowned, thinking of Shadowheart's words – she was right. He would have a little fun tonight, and he would get Tav to adore him so thoroughly that she wouldn't ever entertain the thought of betraying him.
Astarion impatiently tapped his foot, waiting for Tav to approach him, but she continued on, disappearing around a corner and heading toward a waterfall beyond the camp. Deciding to follow, he snagged a bottle of wine from a passed-out bard and made his way to her. Astarion found her sitting against a boulder, her head tilted back as she gazed at the stars above.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Astarion said. “Done basking in the limelight, Tav? Got tired of having high praises sung to you?” 
She fiddled with the collar of the lovely dress that she wore for the occasion. “I needed a moment to myself. I don’t get them often lately.” Tav looked up at him, her slate gray skin glowing in the moonlight. Despite the mismatched eyes (thanks to her trusting Volo a little too much), she was beautiful, he noted, and he did have a fondness for beautiful things. Bedding her wouldn't be torture; it could have been worse.
“I’m glad I was able to help them, to show that we’re not all Lolth’s servants. It’s usually a little funny, but sometimes being looked at like a monster is tiring,” Tav confessed.
He blinked, taken aback by Tav’s unexpectedly sincere admission, wondering if he had picked a bad moment to approach her. However, she patted the ground next to her, inviting him to sit, and then she chuckled. "Sorry. Did I ruin the mood?"
Astarion settled down against the rock, bumping his shoulder against hers. Tav watched him intently as he worked on removing the corkscrew from the wine. When he tilted the bottle in her direction as an offer, she declined with a shake of her head, prompting Astarion to take a sip himself. He grimaced from the acrid taste. 
“Well, I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I’d be the one people would toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” he paused, taking another mouthful.  “I hate it. It’s awful.” 
“It’s not that bad. Think of all the nasty little goblins you got to kill.” 
“True…” Astarion smiled impishly, thinking fondly on the many different ways to murder. Regular arrows dipped in poison or set ablaze with fiery magic, the thrust of a dagger into vulnerable flesh. The memories were invigorating.
“That was fun," he mused. "Still, I would've liked more for my trouble than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine. All I want is a little excitement tonight, is that so much to ask? The good kind – not the 'we might turn into hideous mind flayers at any moment' excitement." He sighed dramatically and raised the bottle for another sip.
Suddenly, she swiped the bottle from him, and took a long swig. When she lowered the bottle, he watched as her face juggled through a few emotions, ultimately landing on disgust. “See what I mean? Awful.” 
“Absolutely dreadful," she remarked before bursting into laughter.
This close, her scent was intense, sending a thrill through his body. She had a distinct aroma, one that he could uniquely parse out from everyone else’s. Tav smelled of amber and spiced honey and pink pepper, even through the grime and chaos of their adventures.
“Well, you’ve heard the saying? Beggars can’t be choosers,” she slurred slightly, playfully hiding the bottle behind her back.  
“Look at you… my treat with her cheeks all flushed,” he tutted. Astarion peered into her eyes with practiced adoration. “I’m amazed you managed to keep your mind clear enough to fight. I’ve been thinking about our last night together ceaselessly, you know.” 
Astarion wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the last time she visited his tent. 
He recalled vividly how she had melted under his teeth, the way her body went limp like a puppet cut from their strings. He had felt profoundly powerful, and she had tasted exquisite, nothing like the rats he had been forced to sustain himself on for centuries. An excitement he had never felt before coursed through his bones at the first droplet. Astarion told himself afterwards it was only because she was his first. He had hoped to have her then, to get the chase done with, as he could smell her arousal clear as day. She had obviously wanted more. And yet, she ran from him. Playing hard to get, he surmised.
“You could just ask for more blood,” Tav responded bitterly. “I knew the goblins weren’t for your refined palate.” The bottle was pushed back into his lap. “You don’t have to woo me with your—” She made a wild gesture with her hands. “—vampiric charms.”
He had hoped a wine-addled Tav would be easier to seduce. 
“Darling, you wound me.” Astarion put a hand to his heart dramatically.  “I saw you earlier, with Halsin. Well, everybody did. Subtlety is clearly not your forte. The way you looked at him had me positively green with envy. Well, I guess I can’t fault your taste, he is a fine specimen.” 
Tav’s ears flushed with embarrassment and she looked away, fixating intently at the fish nearby. They swam down the stream and it reminded Astarion of her, eager to get away from him. 
“That was nothing. Just laughter between friends,” she downplayed.
“Is it so hard to believe that hearing that brings me relief?” 
Another truth. She would be considerably easier to have if she wasn’t attached to someone else. 
"Is it so hard to believe…" He extended his hand to caress her cheek, his touch gentle and tender. “That I want you? That there’s not a single soul tonight, here or otherwise, who I’d rather be with.” When she met his gaze again, Astarion thought he might have caught his little fish by the hook after all.
“Such bewitching lies,” Tav marveled. “I almost believe them. Oh, you’re good.” 
“You don’t have to believe what I say, darling. You just need to believe how I feel .” 
He inched towards her, allowing the wine bottle to roll away from his lap and into the river. Astarion pressed a feather light kiss to her jaw, then her cheek. His fingers held her chin, guiding her to him. When their lips finally met, a sigh escaped her, and Astarion couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as her mouth willingly parted to welcome him. Despite the foul wine, she tasted sweet. And he found that he didn’t mind it, not at all. 
Tav grew more enthusiastic, deepening the kiss. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue in,  and clamped his teeth onto her bottom lip, drawing the flesh into his mouth. She moaned, muffled against him. He had drawn blood. He broke the kiss to lap the blood from her lips, and he felt his cock twitch. A natural reaction for any vampire, he told himself. Blood was simply too exciting. 
Tav drew away from him, breathless, her lip bruised.  “Are you…hungry, Astarion?” she asked. 
Astarion considered her question. He could tell her yes. He could answer that he was always hungry, that he could drink and drink and there'd still be something missing, gnawing away in his chest. It was an insatiable yearning, an emptiness that no amount of blood would ever fill—a bleak hunger that defined his existence, a constant reminder of the curse that haunted him.
Or he could choose to play pretend instead. That would be easier to swallow.
He put on a mischievous smile. “In what way?” 
"Don’t be cheeky," she said, a blush gracing her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I had a feeling you might be. It’s been some time... and you always seem so much stronger and happier when you've had your fill."
"And your point is?" Astarion asked, though he already had a sense where this was going. He just wanted to hear her say it.
“That I can help you. That you might as well continue to use me.” She winced at her phrasing. “I don’t have to be a vampire to understand that animals aren’t the same. I suppose if we come to an agreement about it, the others will have to mind their business. Just tell me when you need it. That is – if you want to, anyway.” 
His eyes darkened at the proposition. “How delightfully pragmatic of you,” he purred in response. 
Tav had given him a refreshing game of cat and mouse, but she succumbed to his beauty, just like everyone else before her. Astarion wished he could say he was surprised, but it’d be a lie. This was how it always worked. You want something, you need to give something. He would shut his brain off, bed her and give her a night of earth shattering pleasure; in return he was not only basically guaranteed protection from Cazador, but was also given a reliable source of blood. Two birds, one stone.
There was nothing else he needed to hear, so Astarion swiftly pulled her into his lap, a surprised squeak escaping her lips. “Hey–”  
He pressed a finger to her lips and kissed behind her ear, then her neck. Tav let out a sigh of defeat and leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. Astarion’s curled fingers traced at the healing puncture marks with admiration, thumbs pressing half-moons into her skin. He dragged the tip of a fang over her skin, slicing a neat line. Small beads of blood began to well up along the thin cut, and he closed his mouth over it and sank in. His third time, and yet it was just as exciting as the first – Astarion was well aware that anyone would be appetizing in contrast to his dismal vegetarian diet, but still wondered if others would be better, compared to her. 
If that was possible. He wasn’t sure at that moment. 
Astarion lost himself in an instant as he buried his senses in her neck, a haze of sensation enveloping him like an intoxicating fog. He had understood then Cazador's obsession—how could one not want to ensnare a person, to chain them in perpetual captivity, to render them an unwilling pet, when they tasted like this?
“Not too much,” Tav breathed heavily, her voice trembling. “I might –” She shuddered against him, and he groaned in response, but his hunger drove him forward. Astarion was starving, didn’t she understand? After two hundred years of shit, pure shit, he deserved something better. He was never going to return to the days of deprivation; he would do anything to ensure that pathetic version of himself was gone for good.
Tav’s fingers grasped around his curls, trying to pull him away from the shadow of her neck, but in her weakened state, it was no use. If anything, it spurred Astarion on. Euphoria clouded his judgement, eyes glazed over with sanguine lust as his fangs disappeared deeper into her tender flesh, blood bursting around him. He tugged at Tav’s hips, pressing her down against him, eliciting a whimper from her. His cock had swelled with arousal and Astarion tried to recall the last time he had gotten so hard of his own volition. He couldn’t.
You are still a slave, an unwelcome voice from the depths of his consciousness sneered. A slave to your innate desire. Why deny your true nature?
It took every ounce of willpower in his body to not drain her completely, to disregard the sinister suggestions. Astarion found the strength to pull away, his nose nuzzling against Tav’s jaw as he regained his composure.
"There's a clearing in the forest," he spoke with a steady voice, his fingers gently stroking her hair as she struggled to catch her breath. “I have been waiting to have you. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.” 
Tav snorted. “I don’t believe you.”
“Don’t you?” He looked at her with steeled eyes, masking the irritation that simmered in him. He kept the thorniness out of his tone. “I think you want to be known. To be tasted.” 
“And what do you want?”
Astarion’s voice hushed in a sensual murmur, the kind he found most weak willed people were prey to. “What do any of us want? Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me.” 
“You act like you know everything,” Tav replied, finally looking at him. Her expression was inscrutable, but the smell of desire radiating off her was unmistakable. 
“A pretty man and his prettier words.” She cupped his face, as if she were to lean in and kiss him. But she didn’t. “I’m tired. I hope I was able to help you.” 
Astarion watched dumbfounded as she pushed up from his cradle and his arms fell limp to his side. She rejected him again, he thought incredulously. He didn’t look away until she had turned and disappeared back into camp. Then he wiped the remaining blood off his face with his fingers, fully intending to savor what was left. But then something stole his attention—a motionless fish floating in the stream. Without thinking, he plunged his hands into the water to catch it. Astarion had it for a second, until it wriggled its way out and plopped back into the water, swimming away in a swirl of crimson.
** 
They had been venturing through the labyrinth of the Underdark for countless days. It was a quiet familiarity that Tav was thankful for, despite the fact that she had left for the world above many years ago. After everything that she’d gone through recently, she welcomed something that still made sense to her. She understood it  – tricky paths to avoid, what poisonous plants you shouldn’t go near, the right grounds to make camp on. Due to the nature of the journey she was on with her companions, however, she grew to anticipate unwelcome surprises. 
Still, it hadn’t made it any easier to accept that her cycle had started – Tav had completely forgotten all about amidst the chaos of their tadpole predicament. Drow females only bled every three months and their cycles were extremely heavy and painful. It hit her one day as they were on the trail towards Grymforge, crossing paths with Filro the Forgotten and his hook horrors. The man hadn’t even let her utter a greeting before he attempted to murder them.
“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” Gale had complained, jumping out of the way.
Tav was in the middle of casting a fire spell when she felt a heavy gush in her underwear. She stuttered, registering the feeling, and attempted the spell again. This time, her aim was off, narrowly missing the wizard and instead scorching the hair on the top of his head. 
"My friend, have you lost your mind?" Gale shouted at her. "We discussed the value of my own life at length! To kill me is counterproductive!"
Her hand went to her abdomen instinctively as the cramps lurched through her. “My bad,” she stammered.  She took a few steps back, watching Karlach charge ahead with a hammer to whack the vulture-like monstrosity just a hair's breadth away from the wizard’s face. 
"To be sure, I am also averse to being bludgeoned!" he yelled at Karlach. A dripping, acid-coated arrow flew overhead from behind him and pierced the Filro’s right eyeball. Gale threw his hands up in the air with exasperation and quickly teleported himself away to higher, safer ground, muttering something about the stars not being in his favor.
Lae’zel probed at Filro’s lifeless body with her foot. “The elf is dead,” she confirmed, sounding disappointed. 
Astarion stepped up beside Tav, tucking his arrows away. “Did one of those wretched creatures manage to swipe at you?” His tone displayed concern, but his face betrayed a hint of intrigue. 
Shadowheart whipped her head around at his question. “Are you hurt?” she asked, scanning Tav’s body for noticeable wounds. “I’ll tend to you when we’ve set up camp for the night.” 
“No!” Tav blustered, causing Shadowheart to raise her eyebrows in confusion. She quickly clarified: “I’m fine . Astarion is mistaken. I think you might do well to take a look at Gale, though. I may have caused a bald spot.”
In the hours that followed, Tav maintained her distance from Astarion – as he had made it abundantly clear that he could smell her – while they all continued their search for a spot to set up camp. Eventually, they stumbled on an area with access to freshwater, a true blessing. By this point, Tav was simply relieved to have her long cloak, otherwise the others would’ve known for sure that she was bleeding through her trousers like a youngling. She diligently set up her tent, choosing a spot far away from Astarion and close to the lake.
Astarion had not asked to feed on her since they left for the Underdark, and Tav had no intention of offering, especially considering the situation unfolding between her thighs.
Their interactions had remained normal as can be, largely because Tav had bigger matters to occupy her mind than pondering her feelings for him, as if she were a little girl with a crush. Time was a valuable commodity lately and she wouldn’t use her precious free moments dwelling on a man who almost certainly didn’t give her a second thought, unless it was to take something from her. Tav scolded herself every time she found herself looking at him too long or when she thought she saw something softer underneath the shield of malevolence he wore. It was all just a game to him, she told herself, like it was to most vampires. 
After everyone had gone to bed, Tav finally snuck out to wash her clothes at the lake and go for a dip in the water. She wasn’t a prude – she had bathed many times with the women, but sometimes she just desperately needed a moment to herself. Even for something as silly as scrubbing the stains of her cycle out from her pants. She finished cleaning up and made her way back to her tent, dismayed that her fresh cloth was already getting ruined. Tav nearly jumped out her skin when she walked into her bunk and saw Astarion lying nonchalantly on her bedroll. 
“Are you mad?” she hissed at him. “You’re lucky I’m not human, or I would’ve had half a mind to stab you in the darkness.” 
“We both know you wouldn’t have been quick enough to,” Astarion drawled, sitting up. “You sorcerers leave much to be desired when it comes to your hand-eye coordination.” 
They looked at each other for a beat, both listening for any stirring sounds from the others. 
“Why are you here?” Tav demanded.
Astarion replied with a sly grin. “I happen to recall a certain somebody making the generous offer that if I ever got hungry, I could come to them.” 
Tav’s fingers combed through her damp hair as she reflected back on an offer she did indeed make.
“I did say that, yes,” she admitted. “But we can’t tonight. Not until I–”
She halted, a painful cramp pulsing through her.
“…Until I’m done with my bleeding. I’ve lost too much already, I’ll be too weak for you to feed on and Gods know if you end up draining me, you’ll have to wake a very cranky Shadowheart up.” 
Tav opened her tent and held her arm out, signaling for him to get out. “We can revisit this in a few days. I’ll let you know when.” 
“Revisit? What, like we’re discussing tactical advances?” Astarion bristled with frustration as he stood up.
"My dear, I don't believe you grasp the... gravity of the situation. Your scent–“ He accused, his tone growing more intense. "–has been tormenting me for hours. It has taken every ounce of restraint in my being to resist the urge to drag you away from the others and drink until I’ve drowned in your blood. I am utterly and maddeningly ravenous.”
Her hand faltered from the tent flap, closing them in the obscurity of her tent again.
“It won’t have to hurt like usual.” His pupils dilated wildly as he inched closer. Astarion looked feral. “No biting required. I’d hate to waste precious resources.” 
Tav’s face paled when she realized what he was suggesting. She didn’t think she was comfortable with the idea, and yet a warmth started blooming through her.
“And it might provide a distraction from the pain in your belly,” he hummed, latching her tent shut. “I’d say this benefits the both of us.”
“Who’s the pragmatic one now?” Tav answered, her toes tingling. It was a very bad idea, she told herself, way too intimate for what she originally offered.
But when Astarion kneeled down, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns up her thighs before he pressed a gentle kiss against her abdomen, and whispered, "Please, darling," she made up her mind.
It was the sensible thing to do. In fact, she reasoned with herself, if she gave Astarion perfectly acceptable, readily available blood now, she wouldn't have to put herself through any more bites for a while. His intense gaze met hers as he looked up, his eyes filled with a potent mix of hunger and desire. His nails gently scraped against the back of her knees, willing her to answer him.
“Be quick about it,” she finally relented.
Astarion wasted no time. He turned her around and pushed her onto her bedroll, tugging at the waistband of her pants, shimmying them over her knees. He fingered at the sides of her underwear, leaning down to kiss the top of her navel.  Tav’s insides fluttered from the sensation of him peppering her from top to bottom. His nose pressed against the dampness of the fabric and she nearly blacked out of embarrassment from the deep inhale he took. 
“You smell intoxicating,” Astarion groaned. “Like the very essence of temptation.” He nearly ripped her bottoms off, throwing them to the ground thoughtlessly along with her soiled rag. His cold breath tickled against her. "It's like I'm a moth drawn to a burning flame. I didn't know it was possible for you to smell even more enticing," he said, genuine bewilderment coloring his tone.
“No need to provide commentary…” Tav mumbled, averting her gaze.
Astarion pushed her legs up over his shoulders, spreading her thighs apart to reveal her slick mound. She started to drip with arousal, a stark contrast to the inky blood that painted her folds. 
“Like honeyed fire, so rich and delicious it ensnared me. I felt it – tasted it – in my throat before I came anywhere near you.” 
He dipped the tips of his index and middle fingers to spread her apart, dragging his tongue in one icey, long lick. The chill, a shock to her core, made her twitch as he licked her agonizingly slow from clit to tailbone. He lapped around her inner thighs, nipping at the flesh, forcing a shiver up her spine. Astarion let out a noise when she involuntarily jerked her body against his face, thighs clenching around his head. He swirled his tongue all around, his nose grazing her nub. 
“Oh,” Tav moaned. Her eyes widened in alarm at the unapproved noise, as if it was an admission of weakness, but it only seemed to encourage him to tongue her faster. Biting down on her knuckle was the only way for Tav to suppress the noise that threatened to spill from her mouth as he ate her like a savage animal having its final meal. The sounds of him lapping up and down at her cunt was obscenely erotic, and she felt herself dripping another gush of blood and arousal into his mouth. He slid his tongue as far as he could inside her slit, attempting to clean her inner walls from the nonstop trickle of blood.  She felt his thumb move to her clit to stroke it in slow circles and another whine fell from her mouth. 
Why didn’t he just get his fill and leave? What was the point of toying with her? Tav needed Astarion to stop, she thought foggily. 
He slurped up as much as he could of her blood, then shifted his attention on her swollen clit. Her legs shook against him, threatening to drop, but he kept her up like she weighed nothing. Tav finally mustered up the courage to look down at Astarion, and he must’ve sensed it, as his blown out eyes met hers. She gasped at the sight, her slickness painting his face so beautifully her cunt practically purred in response. 
“Please.” 
Her desire and uncertainty tangled in that one word. She wasn’t sure what she was pleading for. For him to go? To continue?
Astarion responded with a muffled, guttural groan. Her heels dug into his shoulder blades, urging him on, while his lips locked around her clit with a hunger that left her gasping. He suckled her so desperately that his teeth brushed against her, causing her legs to unconsciously spread further, surrendering to the feeling. Tav didn’t know how long they stayed like that; with Astarion dragging his tongue through her slick folds, alternating between frenzied licks and focused suctions on her clit. Before she knew it, an intense orgasm washed over her, prompting a bite on her own fingers to stop her from keening.  She yelped when she broke skin and her fingers shot to his curls as her sex throbbed. But Astarion didn’t stop – he had gone back to tasting her in lazy, drawn out strokes. 
“It’s sinful,” he muttered against her flushed skin. “It's divine.”
Tav pulled at his hair, hoping he would come off from her, hoping he would leave then.  “You’ve not had your fill?” she croaked.
“I would lay here drinking from you all night until I fell asleep, if I had my way. ” 
She watched him lick the inner corners of her thighs, fangs grazing against her flesh, threatening to bite down. Astarion moved up, trailing kisses under her belly button, then maneuvered her legs around his hips. His hands slid up her sides, scrunching Tav’s top up to show just a hint of her breasts, nipples hardened against the sheer fabric. He pulled away, baring a sharp smile, hair disheveled, teeth smeared with her blood, then pressed his clothed cock against her.  “You can stop your little charade now.” 
Before Tav could reply, he caught her lips in a deep kiss, rutting against her in his strained pants. The comedown from her orgasm had caught her with dull inhibitions as she couldn’t help but return the kiss, tasting her fluids on her tongue, coppery and vaguely salty. Tav couldn’t say she shared his sentiment regarding her blood, but she didn’t pull away, brain spiked with his tongue in her mouth. 
“Let me love you,” Astarion whispered tenderly.
Tav suddenly jolted, breaking out of her spell. She pushed at his chest, her body straightening like a lance.  She seethed with frustration. “Get off.” 
He stiffened, pulling away to meet her glare. “Did I do something wrong, my sweet?” 
“Enough with the fucking pet names,” she practically spat. “You don’t owe me. You don’t have to pretend to want me. I didn’t lie when I said I wanted to help you, so don’t lie to me and recite sonnets and play pretend lover. ” 
He peeled himself from her, and for once, Astarion didn't respond with a quip or a sly remark.
“I… see. I didn't mean to upset you.” 
Her expression softened, though she couldn't help but feel that if Astarion had wanted to pursue it, he would make a great actor. But Tav didn’t want to put herself through a show, no matter how much she had wanted to watch it. 
Tav sighed, her throat feeling parched as she spoke. "It's alright," she murmured, avoiding his gaze while she reached for her pants. “You know, sometimes, people just want to help you. Because they care about you, and they don’t expect anything back.” 
“Everybody wants something.” Astarion remarked.
“You’re right,” Tav acknowledged quietly, nestling herself in her bedroll and turning over. “I want to get some sleep. Good night, Astarion.” 
** 
Halsin's warning about the Shadow Cursed Lands had been clear: it would be a wasteland where even the animals would be too ghoulish for Astarion to feed on.
So for the rest of their journey towards Gymforge and beyond, Astarion gorged himself on as many creatures as he could. Bats, cave goats, owls, giant lizards – everything was fair game. He even contemplated the bulette at one point, but it smelled awful. He drank from anything and everything that moved, all in an effort to stave off the need to ask Tav for her blood. He didn't want to risk upsetting her again. Astarion was still a wanted man, and as long as she tolerated him, he was safe from Cazador.
Though he was satiated on animal blood, it was like eating plain porridge multiple times a day—nourishment, yes, but completely devoid of pleasure. But that was fine; Astarion didn’t want to grow used to Tav, he was disturbed by the way his body reacted everytime he fed on her. 
After the last feeding, he left for his tent with an aching cock. He had tried to will it away, but Astarion had felt too drunk on delirious bloodlust. Back in his bed, he tugged at himself feverishly, in need of the release that was denied to him. Her smell, taste, body – everything, everything about Tav made him throb with desire. It was only logical, a primal urge, nothing more than that. He had, after all, succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh in the past, no matter how unwilling. 
He understood all too well that the body could respond even when the mind wasn't fully present.
And yet, Astarion remained restless at night. When they all retired to their beds, his mind inevitably turned to think of her. He couldn’t shake the memory of how she ran hot against his bone cold body, hugging him like a furnace. His longing for her went beyond the hunger for her blood, and that realization left him uneasy, causing him to distance himself even more from her. However, he stole glances at her from time to time. Sometimes it happened when they gathered around the campfire for supper, sharing plans and stories. Astarion was particularly drawn to her smile, so sweet that her eyes wrinkled at the corners. He couldn't ignore the knot that twisted in his stomach when he saw her smile for anyone else.
"What will everyone do when this is all over?" Tav asked on one of the rare evenings when everyone remained awake.
“Whatever Lady Shar calls for me to do,” Shadowheart answered with determination.
Lae’zel scoffed dismissively. “Chk. It’s a waste of time to ponder.” 
“Well, I miss my Tara terribly,” Gale confessed sadly. “First thing I do, I would like to see her immediately.”
Karlach leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “Aw man… at least you have someone to return to!” 
Wyll flashed a grin at her. "You could always join me, Karlach. We could be the Blades of the Frontiers together, dispensing justice across the land of Faerûn." He dramatically extended his arms to illustrate the vision. Karlach smiled in response. "I'll hold you to that, soldier."
"I'm afraid the grove needs a fresh start without me," Halsin admitted. "I have a feeling I'll be required elsewhere, though I'm not entirely certain where."
Tav flicked her eyes to Astarion and then looked away while she spoke. “I should hope that no matter where we end up, that we all see each other every once in a while.” She rubbed at her arms and then laughed. “Gods, I know I sound so sentimental. But I’ve grown to truly like you crazy fuckers. And it’s going to be really hard to relate to people after this.” 
“You can say that again,” Wyll agreed. 
Astarion hummed, raising his wine goblet with a flourish. "Don’t fret, my dear friends. I’ll host the most extravagant of parties each season in my grand, opulent palace, and you’ll all be my honored guests. I'll personally hunt you down if you fail to attend or neglect the dress code."
“Hear hear!” Karlach cheered. They clinked their glasses together and Astarion’s breath caught when he saw the corners of Tav’s lips curling up. She was smiling at him. And his cold, dead, unbeating heart felt like it had swelled up so large he thought it might burst out of his chest. 
Fuck, Astarion thought. 
** 
The Last Light Inn was a welcome respite for their weary bodies. Each of them had their own rooms with real beds, and they had all ran to claim their rooms. 
However, as usual, trouble had a knack for finding them. Barely an hour into their stay, they were attacked, though they did manage to defend the inn and its people. Tav sat down hours later on a barstool in the tavern, tossing a coin to a tiefling child who was doubling as the barkeep. The little one handed her a mug, only filled halfway, and she chuckled to herself.
"Guess I won't be drowning my sorrows tonight.” 
She took out her journal and went over her notes. There was so much to keep in mind, so much to go over. Tav scribbled away for an hour or two, and as the common area gradually emptied with everyone retiring to their rooms, she remained absorbed in her journal until a familiar voice broke the silence. “You’re up late.” Tav looked up, finding Astarion standing at the edge of the dimly lit hallway. It had been a while since they had been in the same vicinity as each other alone, and she couldn’t help but feel nervous at the sight of him. He made strides to move towards her, stopping only to stoop down and give His Majesty a little scratch behind its ears.
"Says you," she replied. "Though... well, vampires are nocturnal, aren't they?" 
"Well actually, I’ve grown to quite enjoy watching the sunrise." Astarion said as he grabbed a cup from behind the counter. “Can’t wait to get out of this wretched place. I’m afraid the real reason I’m still up is a bit more mundane—I'm feeling a bit on edge." 
He dipped the mug into a barrel of wine and raised an eyebrow at her disapproving look. "What? Free ale is the least we deserve for saving this sorry little inn from destruction." 
Tav couldn't argue with that. She scooted over on her stool to make room for Astarion, and he joined her without a word. Astarion drank and she wrote in her book and they didn’t say anything to each other; it was a comfortable silence, one they both needed. After a while, Tav couldn't stifle a yawn, her eyes bleary from exhaustion.
"If you yawn any more, I'm going to have to toss you into your room," Astarion remarked dryly, his fingers curled around his fourth glass of wine. "You should get some rest."
She looked at him and noticed his cheeks were gaunt. There was no luster to his appearance, and he appeared more tired than she felt on the inside, likely due to a lack of nourishment. Tav had been waiting for him to ask to feed ever since they stepped foot into these cursed lands, but he never sought her out. There were no animals out in these lands, and most of the people they killed were tainted. Unless one of the others felt like offering, he was short on fuel. Astarion was probably starving, and that’s why he was restless.
Maybe she had been too harsh with him. Tav had been the one to offer blood in the first place, and then she had to go and make things awkward with her outburst. A pang of guilt washed over her.
“You too,” Tav replied. “You honestly look a little awful.” He tensed at the comment and she hurried to add: “You’re hungry. When was the last time you ate?” 
With a subtle lick of his lips, Astarion brushed off her concern. “I'm perfectly fine. I'll feast on some True Souls once we reach Moonrise, and you'll see, I'll be right as rain.”
"You're obviously not fine, Astarion," Tav insisted. "I'm not a stranger. I know you."
His eyes searched hers like he was looking for something, a certain melancholy to them that she couldn’t parse out. Then the look vanished, replaced by an empty expression. 
“I don’t think you do.”
She almost believed a few times he cared for her, in his own way. But it was clear now that her original instinct had been correct: it really had been a game for him, and now Astarion was so bored of her, he’d rather starve. Tav knew that if she were smart, she would feel relieved that he no longer wanted to use her, that he had backed off. But all she felt was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. 
**
Astarion still grieved for his past life, but any memories of family, lovers, or friends remained lost to him. At times, he preferred it that way. Ignorance, after all, had its virtues. Caring for others meant extending a piece of yourself to them, one you often couldn’t get back, and that was a risk he didn’t want to take. Not when he so desperately needed to care for himself. What was so bad about being selfish, he wondered. Astarion couldn't afford to put himself second, not after everything he had been through.
He had come into this world alone, suffered alone, and he would depart this earthly realm alone. 
The second night at the inn, Halsin had gone to find Thaniel, leaving the rest of them to defend his portal while they awaited his return. They hadn't expected the overwhelming forces drawn to destroy it. Wave after wave of undead assailants descended upon them, and they found themselves severely outnumbered.
Tav, determined to protect the portal, was casting a wall of stone when a wraith suddenly teleported and slashed at her, breaking her concentration. Her cry pierced the chaotic battle, and Astarion whipped around at the sound. She crumpled to the ground, clutching her stomach in agony.
"No, no, Tav! Get up, damn you!" Astarion shouted. Without hesitation, he lunged forward with his daggers and tore into the wraith until it dissipated into a shadow of smoke. 
"The portal—" Tav choked out, blood spluttering from her throat. He knelt down and pulled her up against him.
“Fuck the portal,” Astarion grit his teeth. “Shadowheart!” 
Shadowheart, engrossed in protecting Karlach and Lae'zel from cursed Harpers trying to break through, couldn't hear him. He yelled for Shadowheart again, but her attention remained focused on the women. Tav had made a promise to Halsin to keep the portal open, and the others were determined to honor that promise. Astarion cursed them all.
As he looked down at Tav, he saw her eyes dimming, her hand outstretched towards the portal. 
She mouthed, "Halsin."
The druid had come back with the child. 
Astarion would’ve turned back time and seen Halsin dead and the Shadow-Cursed lands forever damned if it meant that he would never again have to feel the fear that struck his heart when Tav went slack in his arms.
** 
“She’ll be alright,” Shadowheart assured, the back of her palm against Tav’s forehead, feeling for her temperature. “She just needs some rest.” 
Astarion had been pacing at the end of Tav's bed, unable to leave her side since their return to the inn. "How long?”
“Can’t say. Maybe a few hours.” Shadowheart put the rest of her scrolls and potions away into her bag. “She’s tougher than she looks, Astarion. Don’t worry too much.”
“I’m not worried,” Astarion huffed, fixing his face to a smooth nonchalance. “But… I’ll stay here with her. Just in case. You should get to bed. You know, vampire and all, we're creatures of the night and whatnot.” 
Shadowheart gave him a knowing look before she left.  “Let me know if she still feels poorly.” 
Astarion quietly pulled a chair closer to Tav's bedside, taking care not to stir her. As he sat there, he wondered what he would say when she woke up. He hadn't planned beyond his initial rush into her room. Hours passed, marked by the gentle rise and fall of her breathing and he never got up from his seat. The exhaustion of the day slowly overcame him and though he tried to fight it, Astarion drifted off into a trance.
Tav woke up after some time, groggy and disoriented. After she checked her body and found nothing out of place, she blinked a few times, surprised to find Astarion sitting nearby.
“No,” Astarion mumbled, his fingers gripping the armrest of his chair. “No. I'll never come back.” 
In his nightmares, Cazador taunted him — to his master, he was akin to a mere child who had simply gotten carried away with the infantile joys of freedom. His relentless pursuit haunted him through the forest, and no matter how far into the void Astarion ran, he could still hear him. Oh, how foolish of him to dream of a life that was his own — he would never escape. No matter how far he fled, Cazador would inevitably find him...
"Please, no, Master —" he cried out.
Tav reached her hand out to gently cover one of his. "Astarion," she said, her voice soft and soothing, despite her sore throat. 
His eyes fluttered open, the rims around them inflamed, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. 
"Cazador," he sputtered, still caught in the grip of his night terrors. 
"You're safe. He's not here," she reassured him, trying to withdraw her hand, but he held it firmly. "You were having a bad dream."
Astarion nodded. “Yes.” His eyes closed as took a deep inhale, calming himself from the remnants of his nightmare. “I didn’t intend to wake you.” 
“No, no, it’s okay. I woke up on my own.” Tav replied, her expression equally laced with concern and suspicion. “Um. Is something wrong? What are you doing here?”
Astarion was quick with his answer. He didn’t want to tell her that, no, actually, he had gone sick with worry and had practically barked at everyone to clear the way as he rushed into the inn with her injured body. “Everything is fine. We just wanted to make sure you were alright. Everyone else is asleep right now.”
“I should’ve been more aware of my surroundings,” Tav frowned apologetically. “I didn’t mean to worry you all. But Halsin came back with Thaniel, didn’t he?” 
He scowled, recalling how his forehead vein nearly burst when Halsin confirmed that Thaniel was of no use until they located his missing half. "I could've strangled Halsin for taking as long as he did. All for some comatose child."
Her eyes bore into him. “I would’ve gone through the pain a thousand more times to help Halsin cure this land. You can’t blame him for anything.” 
Tav was light and goodness and hope and everything Astarion was not and he wanted to throttle her and tell her that this miserable, revolting world didn’t deserve her. 
“I can, and I will. But thankfully, you’re okay. No need for anyone’s head to roll.”
“Ugh. You are so dramatic,” she laughed, her hand splaying under him. His finger rubbed a circle on the back of her palm. Then she paused, and they stared at each other, and Astarion almost shrank from the intensity of her gaze. “I appreciate you watching over me. I’m good, really. I can take it from here. You can go now.” 
“If that’s what you want,” he replied. 
”I…” She hesitated, her eyes shifting slowly between his, searching for something in them. "What do you want?"
Tav had asked Astarion this question once before, and he had delivered his answer, every word rehearsed and refined countless times with various people.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he confessed. His eyebrows furrowed as he pushed himself to continue. "I… want to free myself from my constant thoughts of you.”
An unfamiliar tightness gripped his throat. Astarion had always thought of her softness as a horrible weakness, but now, with Tav before him, he understood that to be soft was a terribly difficult thing to do.
“I want…” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “... to kiss you.” 
Tav echoed his previous response. 
"Well, if that's what you want."
He was careful, the way he rose to caress her cheek, and agonizingly slow as her lips parted and his cold thumb brushed against them. Astarion closed the gap and pressed a kiss on her, so gentle he thought he only imagined doing it. He tilted her head up, the kiss deepening with a swift graduation of intensity that made Tav cling to him as if he were the only solid thing in her dizzying world. 
This was different, Astarion marveled — this felt like undeniable need.
“I can’t summon up any clever words,” Astarion breathed against her lips. “Just that I want you.” 
“Then shut up for once and have me.” She twined her arms around his neck and his tongue glided past her lips to taste her, eliciting a sound from her that redirected all the blood in Astarion’s body in a sweet rush. Every movement of her lips sent a jolt through his body, fanning the blaze that was shared back and forth between them. 
How maddening was it, that one second Astarion was afraid to falter, and the next she reduced him to desperation.
He devoured her with tongue and teeth, pushing her back into the mattress, only stopping when it felt like they would die from lack of oxygen. Astarion broke away from her embrace, peeled his shirt off and hurled it to the ground, then tugged at her pants; she clumsily arched herself up to help him strip her clothes off. Next was her top, then her underwear; his eyes swept over her, committing every detail and every curve to memory. 
“You, my little dove, truly are a vision.”
Tav laughed with embarrassment, but her laughter dissolved into a moan as Astarion's lips met hers. She kissed him like she was untangling him, and he kissed her like he wanted to own her from the inside out. Then she gasped, the sound shooting straight to his cock. “I’ve wanted you. Everytime. But I was scared.”
He groaned and released her from his mouth, then captured her lips in his again. Astarion had never wanted so hopelessly to see someone come undone under him. 
“I know darling. I’m always right,” he chuckled against her lips, the arrogance hiding the relief he felt. She tsked at him and his fingers gently wrapped over her throat, as the other hand thumbed at her lips. “I’m jealous of your neck,” he mused. “It gets to hold your lovely head up, when it could be my hands instead.” 
It was sickening, Astarion thought, how unbelievably, excruciatingly hard he was, and he had barely even touched her. Tav watched him curiously, her eyes raking over his body with lust.  “I want to taste you,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Let me.” 
“Not tonight,” he said simply, wanting nothing more than to see her pretty lips wrap around his cock and to see her struggle for air. But he’d be lying if the simple act of denying her didn’t turn him on. Astarion prodded at her lips with his fingers, knocking at her teeth, slipping two into her mouth. “You can work for that.” 
She opened her mouth without further complaint.  He pressed down on her tongue and she sucked as he slowly twisted his fingers around. Astarion lowered a trail of kisses down her face, peppering her jaw, neck, collarbones, the dip between her breasts. Then, he took his spit slicked fingers out with a plop, saliva trailing out from her lips, before moving down to spread open her wet folds. Tav was dripping with arousal, eyes fluttering in anticipation of pleasure, and Astarion thought he’d like to keep her like this forever. He pinched at her clit then rubbed firm and slow; her hips twitched against him, silently asking for him to go faster, harder, anything, to make her cum. 
But Astarion wasn’t going to let her, he had never intended to let her cum – at least not yet, it was too soon, not when he wanted to unravel her more.
“Get on your knees for me, darling.”
Tav had no choice but to roll over and prop herself up on her elbows. She looked back at him, her eyes glassy with frustration. He could barely hold himself together to whisper sweet nothings into her back, something that had been so vile to do before and so easy to do now. Astarion ached to have her: anywhere, in every position, in every possible way, to mark her and make it so that everyone would know that Tav was his to have. 
He tried to shake away the obsessive thought but it burned through him so deeply that it nearly pushed Astarion to rage. His kisses dragged lower and lower until his hands squeezed at the undersides of her ass. Astarion spread her thighs apart and opened her up like ripe fruit with his thumbs, watching her drool drip down her folds. He lapped his tongue up from her glistening folds to her rim and Tav’s knees buckled under the sensation.   
Astarion wasn’t just eating her out, he was tonguefucking her; he delved deeper, groaning against her as she pushed back into his face and her musk clouded his mind. The taste of her constant, dripping wetness was intoxicating, second only to her life-giving blood. It threatened to drown Astarion, like a violent wave crashing at the shore of his senses. 
He snaked in and out of her puckered hole, back to her cunt, everything growing slick and sloppy and sensitive, wet sounds mixing with moans spilling from both of them. The contrast of the cold of his tongue and the hotness of her cunt was exquisite, and he thought Tav deserved the gift of his fingers again. His index and middle fingers slid through to part the lips of her sticky cunt, then disappeared, quickly thrusting in and out of her. 
“I need–” She made a strangled sound before she buried her face into her pillow, not wanting to make any more noise should the rooms next door hear.  Then, she nearly sobbed at the sudden loss of his lips against her, though his fingers were still deep at her base. He reached forward to tug at her hair abruptly, bringing her head up from the bed. 
“You need what?” Astarion feigned ignorance, not slowing down the pace of his fingers fucking in and out of her. Tav reached down with her hand to press against her clit, grinding her palm flat against her pubic bone. She humped against her hand and back into his fingers, again and again until he released her hair and snatched her hand and held it against her back as he buried a third finger into her cunt. 
“Fuck, Astarion.” 
The way Tav cried out his name made Astarion want to drag this out, to deny her the way she had done to him for so many weeks. Until she was a sobbing, pleading, pathetic mess. He pressed a wet kiss against her cunt and barely held back a wicked smile when she shook as his fingers curled, pulling and pushing in her.
“Sorry pet, I can’t hear you.” 
“Fucking...“ Tav grit her teeth, her temper rising when she realized he was playing with her. “All this time you've been accosting me and now you want to tease?"
"Little known fact about me, I'm actually hard of hearing in one ear," he lied, pushing a fourth finger into her squelching cunt. Tav pushed her face into the pillow and groaned in frustration, before picking her head back up, choking out the words.
"Astarion, I need you to fuck me." 
“Oh,” he replied, like the answer hadn’t been so obvious. “All you had to do was use your words.”
He withdrew his fingers from her. Tav strained her head to see him tugging his pants down, cock springing out, beautiful and veiny, precum leaking and turned on to the point of agony. Astarion gave himself one firm stroke from root to tip and back. She bumped against him, but he pushed her back down and dragged the tip through her cunt. 
“So wet.” He slid the head between her slick folds, rubbing up to her clit, and back down. Again and again, each time dipping closer to where she needed him most in a torturously unhurried pace. “You’re always so wet for me, aren’t you, my sweet?” 
She moaned an agreement into the bed and ground herself against him, hard enough that Astarion felt relief all around his painfully erect cock. It was truly difficult to stop himself from fucking her deep into the mattress, but the novelty of how much he enjoyed seeing her squirm under him was too new, too enthralling.
“Looks like you enjoy the pet names after all.” 
“Astarion,” Tav cried, rutting desperately on his cock. She looked like she would either break down in tears or hit him. He thought he would enjoy either option. 
Astarion flipped her over on her back and summoned the best of his self control to kick off his pants. Then he kissed her deeply and pushed in, slowly, stretching her out; mesmerized by the needy look on her face and the way her lips parted in a gasp. He wanted to savor this, to paint a picture in his mind to look back on in case it never happened again, but it only lasted a few seconds before Tav wrapped her legs around his waist, willing more of him into her. 
“Tav,” Astarion stuttered, grabbing hold of her hips roughly. “Cheeky little pup — so desperate.”
He slowly dragged out of her until only the tip of his cock was left, holding her legs apart so he could admire the view of her taking the entirety of his length as he pushed back in leisurely. 
“Astarion, fuck me, please, I can’t breathe until you do.” 
Would he ever tire of his name being used like a prayer? Astarion growled in response, pulling and burying himself at the hilt of her cunt. Then he fucked her faster - the pace brutal and unrelenting - and her walls clenched so tight around him that it hurt, a smooth and velvety pain along his cock. When Tav’s eyes rolled back he freed a hand to grab her throat, forcing her to look at him.
“I would tear myself open limb from limb if you could only see the mess you’ve made of me,” he panted. 
Tav choked around his fingers, unable to reply, eyes wide in disbelief; Astarion released her throat to grip the back of her thighs and pin her knees to her chest with bruising strength. He lost himself, he didn’t stop moving, didn’t let up. Fucking her felt both sacred and like sacrilege, like being eviscerated by divine rapture, like something he simply didn’t deserve. He would have chained himself down at her altar and would've ripped through his own ribcage with his bare hands to offer his lungs as sacrifice if that's what she demanded. 
“Yes, it’s so good, Astarion—” Tav babbled incoherently under him, her breasts jiggling with each thrust. “You’re so good. So fucking good.” 
Astarion lurched forward with a groan and buried his face into her juncture between her neck and shoulder, inhaling sharply as his nose nudged at her fading wound. It was wholly unnatural to resist biting her, but he did. He wasn’t good, he had probably never been good in any lifetime. But he wanted to be – would try to be – if that’s what she wanted. Astarion fucked her to the ragged rhythm of his name, hard and deep and devastating, hissing everytime her walls flexed and gripped around him. 
“Bite me,” Tav begged, her arms sliding around him, one slipping into his hair and the other clawing at the scarred skin of his back. “You don’t have to ask. Never.” 
Astarion wavered, but only for a second. His teeth dragged over her skin like the point of a knife and she leaned into it, the pounding of her heart echoing in Astarion’s ears. Tav let out a needy pant of encouragement when he sank in, nothing careful or gentle about his bite. Hot pulsing blood rushed into his mouth; it poured into every vein in his body, exploding everywhere at once.
Tav thrashed under him, threading her fingers through his curls and holding him in place.  He drank and sucked until the skin underneath him spurted so much blood that it spilled out past the corners of his mouth, drenching their chests as they rocked against each other. He dragged a finger through the rain of blood and when it was coated he smeared it on her swollen clit, working frenzied, clumsy circles on it. His arm grew tense with the speed and intensity of it but he didn’t stop. Tav’s sopping wet cunt sucked him in messily in the silence and a dark satisfaction curled through Astarion’s gut, knowing that it was impossible to not hear them throughout the inn.
“You’ll be my undoing,” he told her, less of a statement and more of a promise. Astarion kissed her through the film of blood that coated the inside of his mouth, wet and metallic and sweet. He groaned when she licked the taste of her off his lips and he fucked into her like an animal, spurred on by the cries she tried and failed to stifle. When Tav came, she clamped down so blindingly tight on Astarion’s cock that an orgasm ripped from his body forcefully, shooting through him and spilling into her as deeply as her cunt would allow. 
**
"You'll stay here?" Tav's words were a barely audible request, masked as a question. The persistent voice that had carved out an unwelcome home in his brain urged him to get up and leave. But Tav curled around him like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he couldn’t find the strength to listen. 
Maybe she would ruin him. Maybe they’d consume each other. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning and pretend tonight never happened. Or maybe some things just burned brighter in the wake of destruction. Astarion was drawn to the fire now, even if it meant risking his wings. 
Astarion pressed a gentle kiss to her damp forehead and drew her closer to his chest. Tav hummed a satisfied sigh, the heat from her body radiating and wrapping him like the thickest blanket in the dead of winter. In that fleeting moment, he wondered if there was a way to bottle her warmth and tuck it away for his loneliest hours.
He chose to settle for a simple truth.
“Yes.” 
2K notes · View notes
offorester · 1 year
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theinevitabilities asked:
the scene where he told rory he loved her and she didn't say it back!
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It was supposed to be the perfect end to a perfect date. Dean has spent a week planning out their three month anniversary down to the last detail and even longer working on the care that he and Rory were currently snuggled up in. The stars were shining, lighting up the sky. The only thing breaking the serene moment was the sound of their voices and laughter. Things had been going so good, great even. Since they had started dating Dean found himself enjoying every single moment they shared, down to the last detail. And right now? Everything seemed like it was right where it needed to be. Hazel eyes drift to his girlfriend as she gazes up at the night sky, a smile on her face that would melt even the iciest of hearts. Rory was far more stunning to him than the night sky could ever hope to be, so much that he just stopped and stared for a moment. Like his breath had been taken away, a feeling swelling from within. Was this what love felt like? Dean was pretty sure that it was. Now was his chance to finally say it. The question here was....could he? “Rory...” His voice was soft, full of fond emotion. “Yeah?” She finally turned to look at him and when she did once again it was like the breath had been knocked right out of his chest. For a moment he almost forgot what it was he had been about to say. “I love you...” The words finally left his lips and for a fleeting second he felt free, finally telling the girl that had come to mean so much to him how he felt. But then there was a pause. She wasn’t saying anything, just looking at him like a deer in the headlights. Panic settled over him like an icy blanket alongside disbelief and hurt. She...wasn’t going to say it back, was she? Had he said it too soon? Was it too much? Was the feeling just not mutual. “Rory...Did you hear me?” “Uh-huh...” It’s clear by the tone of Rory’s voice that she’s stunned by the words that have left his mouth but in the moment the mounting hurt was just outweighing his common sense. Maybe he wasn’t good enough. Or maybe he hadn’t done enough. Maybe she was just being nice to him all this time. “Well...Say something.” He coaxes her, trying to get something, anything out of her. “I...love the car?” Rory speaks up finally and for a moment he’s stunned, as if he’d been smacked right in the face. So this was how their night was going to end. She could say she loved the car he was building but not him? All this time and effort he had been putting in, all the love he had been giving. Was it worth nothing? He didn’t know. “Oh my god. You don’t love me.” The words hit home like an earth shattering revelation, taking his breath away once more but not in a fun way this time. No...This was painful.
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babyjakes · 4 months
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clear blue water.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | watersports
pairing | soft!dark!daddies!steve rogers and ari levinson x little!reader
warnings | dark ddlg dynamic (soft!dark!daddies of captive!little!reader.) dub/non-con. shower scene. crying kink. moment of nipple play. thigh riding. clit focus <33 + fingering. forced orgasm. watersports (unexpected wetting.) mocking/humiliation. praise and encouragement. aftercare (cleaning off.)
word count | 1,205
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an | they have one of those big fancy walk-in showers with the bench in the back, the ones made of marble?? i didn't know how to describe it in-fic so i'm just dropping that info here lol. i don't usually write shower stuff so i hope this turned out okay :')
edit | this is written in the same au as you all over me, with captive!reader and her soft!dark!daddies.
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There was no use in squirming or struggling. Any resistance you showed would only make things harder for yourself. And yet as hard as you tried, you couldn't keep your trembling body still. Perched up on Steve's broad thigh, your shoulder blades pressed back against his bare front side, you felt like a cornered animal as Ari crouched down in front of you on the sleek shower floor. A look of mock concern drew across the brunette's face as he reached out to brush dripping strands of hair out of your face.
Steve's arm was steady around your waist holding you in place, but there was little harshness to his grasp. Neither of the men were particularly rough or violent with you, but there were times when you honestly found yourself wishing they would be. There was just something about the way they treated you, with such love and patience- it felt so wrong, given the circumstances. It was maddening.
"P-please, don't make me..." Your begging seemed pathetic even to you as Ari shook his head regretfully, his large hand trailing down to begin toying with one of your tits. His fingertips teased lightly over your already-stiffened nipple, tweaking and tugging at the poor knot of flesh as he shared a steady look with Steve.
"C'mon doll, you're alright. Be a big girl and let your daddies help you," the man holding you encouraged softly. He brought up a hand of his own to begin occupying your other breast as his counterpart shifted his focus lower.
"Gonna take good care of you, sweetheart," Ari promised as he leaned his face down a little, settling his unwanted gaze on your puffy pussy lips as they sat helplessly atop Steve's muscular thigh. Letting out a thoughtful hum, the crouching man mused, "Now, let's see here..."
Steve shifted you up slightly along the length of his leg, placing a hand on either side of your waist to keep you balanced and upright. "Good, that's better," Ari murmured appreciatively as he brought his own prying hands down to gently spread your pussy lips over the surface you were perched on. A feeble whine rose in your throat as your dripping hole and clit came in contact with Steve's damp skin. "There," Ari smiled approvingly, "right up against Daddy's leg. Are you gonna be a good girl and ride Stevie's thigh, baby? Or are we gonna have to help you?"
Big, warm tears of humiliation sprang from your eyes as you tried to glare at the brown-haired man before you. To your dismay, Ari simply seemed to find your little act of defiance endearing. "Poor little girl, what a pretty pout," he crooned as he leaned in to press a kiss against your forehead.
"That's okay, sweetheart," Steve's voice was low and rumbly from behind you, "little babies need their daddies' help. That's what we're here for." Tightening his grip on your waist, he drew a faltering cry from your trembling lips as he began bouncing his leg beneath you, grinding your hips down with his hands at a steady, punishing rhythm.
Ari's expression was full of sympathy as he reached in again to aid in your torment. With just the tips of his fingers, he spread your labia back further, watching as your poor little bundle of nerves was dragged repeatedly over the slippery surface below. "I know, baby. I know," he frowned gently. "Bet your poor little button burns, doesn't it?"
"Poor thing," Steve played right along with his partner's cruel game of faux pity. "How long d'you think she'll last, Ari? Look at her, she's getting worked up already," he pointed out as your shaking legs kicked helplessly beneath you.
"That's our perfect girl," Ari hummed as he and Steve kept up their steady movements. "Shouldn't take long," he stated knowingly, "poor baby's so sensitive, doesn't take much to make her come."
Heat was rising up through your neck and face as your torture dragged on. As always, you were doing everything you could to fight off the inevitable, but very quickly you were finding it all to just be too much. The way they spoke about you as if you weren't even there, the mortifying detail they were discussing your circumstances in. The way forcing you to orgasm seemed to be their favorite pastime, the way they knew the quickest and most efficient ways to bring you right to the edge of those unwanted climaxes they loved so much...
"Getting so wet, doll. You getting close?" Steve murmured against the back of your neck as your broken whimpers and sobs grew louder and more desperate.
Ari could see that familiar look growing on your face, prompting him to bring the pads of his fingers down to rub quickly and harshly against your throbbing button. "C'mon, baby. Give it to us," he commanded, his voice now stronger with an heir of authority.
"Don't fight it, little one," Steve crooned, his voice vibrating against your ear as the horrible feelings swelled up inside of you. As you were sent reeling towards your high, the man behind you brought a firm arm around your lurching body to steady you. Just as your orgasm began tearing through you, the pressure applied to your lower belly proved too much to bear; in a humiliating moment of complete and total helplessness, a surge of warmth shot out from your spasming cunt as you gushed and came simultaneously.
Feeling the forceful spray hit his thigh, Steve couldn't help but beam at the sight of your forfeited control. Ari caught on to what was happening only fractions of a moment later, immediately sharing in his friend's delight. "There, let it all out, sweetheart," he chuckled softly as the unbearable waves of pleasure and relief continued.
"Poor baby, just couldn't hold it, huh?" Steve joined in as your overwhelming climax finally began to wind down. As soon as you left its grips, your poor body slumped uselessly against your captors' holds. Ari removed his fingers from your twitching button as Steve eased you back to lean against his broad chest, gently planting a kiss to your temple as you sat there helplessly, too weak to do anything but struggle for air through your tears.
"Shhh," Ari brought his hands to rub soothingly over the tops of your thighs. As the humiliation of the situation settled in, your cries only worsened, earning concerned yet understanding looks from both of the men as they sat there with you in the humid air. Steve rubbed your tummy gently as Ari stepped away momentarily, retrieving a rag and the bottle of body soap from the front of the shower before returning. You were too weak and exhausted to fight as the man began washing you off, continuing to offer you soft words of praise and reassurance along with Steve.
"You're okay, sweetheart. Just let your daddies take care of you," the blonde told you softly as the warm, soothing cloth was dragged over your ruined body.
"Our little baby. So good for her daddies," Ari kissed your nose, his loving acts and words only feeling like salt in the gaping wound they had once again torn open in you.
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p0orbaby · 2 months
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Hidden in Plain Sight
summary: a secret relationship? who’d have thunk it? not your teammates
warnings: suggestive themes
a/n: i started this months ago, i hate it, enjoy
word count: 2.4k
-
Alessia is a good girl.
You’re not.
Alessia wouldn’t hurt a fly.
You’d punch someone in the face if provoked.
On paper it never should have worked. You with your hot head and her with her kindness and smiles. It was a contrast of temperaments that, to most observers, would have appeared incompatible. And it was. To a degree.
“The coast is clear” you assess. “You go first and I’ll hang back so it doesn’t look like we’ve left together”
The two of you have honed the art of sneaking around. Having mastered the delicate balance of staying close without arousing any unwanted attention. It has become an integral part of your daily routine.
Bringing your head back into the storage cupboard you had meticulously scouted, you find Alessia pulling her t-shirt over her head. In turn hiding the blooming bruises on her collar bones you had gifted her only minutes ago.
She looks in your direction, your silhouette barely discernible in the dim light of the weak bulb. Nevertheless, even in this low light, she can sense your intense gaze sweeping over her body. It makes her skin tingle even now.
“Remember not to be too loud when you get back,” she cautions, her voice hushed, laden with the weight of your secrets.
You let out a soft chuckle and nod. “You worry too much,” you tease. “I know the drill”
“But last time-“
You cut her off with a tender kiss, your lips silencing her. And when she hums against you, you can’t help but smirk. “Last time was a mistake. It won’t happen again, I promise” you whisper between kisses. Your hands gently squeeze her waist reassuringly as you hold her close.
Last time was, unfortunate. And in hindsight, staying back to ‘catch up’ in the showers after training was a terrible idea. Especially when it was glaringly obvious that the two of you were both conspicuously absent from lunch. You had managed to explain it away, albeit with raised eyebrows, knowing looks, and indiscreet whispers behind your backs.
The showers had served as a potent warning, a moment of realisation that you couldn't afford to be as reckless as before. This had prompted your shift in tactics, opting for more clandestine meetings in storage cupboards and carefully timed returns to your respective rooms.
"See you tomorrow in training," she whispers, and you can't resist pulling her in for another lingering kiss before she gracefully slips out of the shadows and makes her way back to her room.
-
“And where have you been?”
A pointed question was asked from across the room as soon as the door clicked shut. You groan internally and roll your eyes in the dark before answering.
“Just getting food” you lie. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d go and get something to eat”
Before you knew it, the room was instantly flooded with a harsh, unrelenting white light. It forced you to squint your eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden, glaring beacon that illuminated every nook and cranny of the space.
“Do you mind?” You ask, your hand coming up to shield your eyes.
“You’re a terrible liar, you know that right?”
“I’d love to know what you’re talking about, Greenwood. But I don’t”
Alex was clearly not going to let this go. And if the look on her face told you anything, it was that she was having a very hard time believing you.
You sighed, trying to maintain your composure and stick to the cover story. “I was just feeling restless, so I decided to grab a snack. Promise.” You said, a little harsher than intended. The tension and prying getting to you.
She didn’t buy it for a second, her eyes narrowing. “At,” she looks at the time on her phone, “half past midnight? Couldn’t you have just had the snacks I know you keep in your bag?”
Your heart raced as you struggled to come up with an excuse. “Well, I didn’t want to wake you up with my rummaging around. Thought I’d be considerate”
She still didn’t seem convinced. “Considerate? You’ve never been this considerate before”
You snort at her brutal honesty and shrug. “I just thought it’d be a good idea tonight, you know, change things up a bit”
Alex kept her eyes firmly on you, making you squirm under her penetrating gaze. “So, nothing else?”
“Like what?” You ask knowing full well what she was alluding to. Your heart skipped a beat, and you forced a chuckle to mask your anxiety. “You watch too many spy movies. It was just food, no biggie”
She finally leaned back, seemingly satisfied with your explanation. “Alright, alright, just hurry up and get to sleep will you? We have to be up soon”
You let out a silent breath of relief, grateful that she had finally let it go. “We have to be up in seven hours, you mean?”
“Whatever. I’m cranky if I don’t get my self allocated eight”
-
Downtime was always hard.
You didn’t want to spend too much time together and make things more obvious than they needed to be. So you chose to distance yourselves when you could. Sitting at different tables when you ate. Splitting up into different groups when you were on rest.
However, this time you had chosen the wrong group to settle down with.
“Russo came back late last night, you know?”
The group of girls all went silent at Tooney’s gossip.
The mention of Alessia’s late return sent a wave of discomfort through you. Your eyes fell on each person, trying to gauge their reactions. You couldn’t afford any slip-ups or suspicious behavior. Ella had unknowingly opened a door to your world of secrets, so you needed to handle this situation delicately.
Millie leaned in closer, eager to hear more. “Late, huh? Wonder what she was up to,” she commented.
You quickly tried to change the topic, “People have their own reasons for being up late sometimes. It’s not that exciting, surely”
Rach, however, wasn’t ready to drop it “like what?” she asked, her curiosity piqued as she nudged Esme and smirked.
Your heart raced, and you glanced at the girl in question. Eating her breakfast a few tables away and none the wiser to how she was the center of this conversation. You cringed at the position you were in. You couldn’t reveal anything without risking your own secret. “I don’t know,” you replied, feigning your indifference with a practiced grimace. “Maybe she was just out for a walk or something”
“In the middle of the night?” Ella chimed in again.
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the secret becoming almost unbearable. You needed to change the subject quickly and divert the conversation away from yours and Alessia’s late-night activities. “You know,” you said between bites of food, “I’ve been thinking about suggesting a movie night for all of us sometime. Morgan over here hasn’t even seen The Devil Wears Prada”
You use your fork to point at her, earning a chuckle from the group. The idea of a movie night seemed to be well-received, and they started discussing their favorite films and the logistics of organizing such an event.
Relieved, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.
-
“They’re onto us” you whisper as Alessia marks you on the field. “Alex and Tooney both caught us getting in. It’s only a matter of time before they connect the dots”
Her only response was to block you from rolling past her to catch a through ball. You let it trickle out of play to gain some time.
“Maybe we should lay low for a while” you suggest.
The idea of distancing yourselves further from each other doesn’t sit well with either of you, but it might be a necessary sacrifice to protect your secret and avoid further suspicion.
You both jog back to your positions, your breath slightly elevated from the quick exchange. Alessia’s voice is low, and she contemplates, “Laying low for a while does sound like the safest option. Hempo saw the marks you left. I had to tell her the barbell slipped in conditioning the other day”
“Shit, I’m sorry”
“No it’s fine” she promises, placing a hand in front of you again to keep you back from the ball once more. “I like that you did that”
You weren’t a very bashful person. though your trademark stormy face now blushed uncharacteristically pink at her words.
“Liked that who did what?”
A voice from behind you made you both jump apart. Turning on your heels to find Mary looking between the two of you.
Caught off guard, she stammered “I, that uh, that Y/N finally decided to adopt a dog”
Your eyes bulged at Alessia's excuse whilst Mary’s narrowed as she eyed you suspiciously.
“But you hate dogs”
“No I don’t” you scoff. “Why would you say that?”
Her features twist with confusion. “Because you always complain about pet hair and how they smell”
“Well, I changed my mind” you stated matter of factly.
Alessia chimed in, trying to reinforce the ruse, “It’s true. Y/N had a change of heart after spending time with a friend’s puppy last weekend”
Mary smirked teasingly, “Well, miracles do happen. Maybe having a furry friend will teach you to care about someone other than yourself for a change”
“That’s just rude”
She chuckled back, “I call it like I see it. Anyway, enough with the dog tales. We’re here to train, not discuss pets. Let’s get back into focus mode, shall we? The least amount of goals I have to save the better”
You waited a beat, letting Mary retreat back between the posts before turning to a guilty looking Alessia.
“A dog? Seriously? Now I have to make inquiries at the local shelter just to make sure people don’t think I’m adopting a furball as a cover for getting in your pants”
“I’m sorry. I panicked!”
“This isn’t working” you concluded, running a stressed hand over your face. “We need a better plan, or different roommates. Do you think it’s too late to swap?”
-
It was dark the next time you saw Alessia.
Lie.
It was dark the next time you spoke to Alessia.
And by spoke you meant you had your tongues down each other's throats.
You were both terrible at keeping your word. You’d agreed, only hours ago, that you’d let the dust settle a little before you made any more sudden movements.
But here you were, Alessia perched on the edge of a conference room table, while you stood between her long legs pulling noises from her as you kissed and sucked at her mouth.
The room was bathed in a soft glow, neither of you deeming it appropriate to meet in the shadows or the dark when you were deep in the belly of the building. The world around you fading away as you succumbed to each other, enough so that the creak of a door evaded the two of you altogether.
“I knew it!” The shrill voice from behind you both made you pull apart from each other. Breathless and on your way to a state of undress. “I told you!”
Caught with your tongues down each other’s throats, and, surprise, the teammates walked in on the clandestine conference room rendezvous. You’re looking breathless, on the brink of undress, and Mary, Alex, and Tooney are grinning like they just uncovered the juiciest gossip of the season.
Which they probably did.
You and Alessia exchange a look, a non-verbal conversation that screams, ‘Well, this just got awkward’.
Mary, the chief investigator of the squad, steps forward, wearing a smirk. “Alright, spill it. How long hm? How long have you been sneaking around?” She demands, as if interrogating prime suspects.
“No! Get out, all of you!” You insist, using as much of you body as you could to cover the blondes dignity.
Alex chuckles, thoroughly enjoying the dramatic turn of her probable evening plans. “Oh, come on, we’re all teammates here. It’s nothing we haven’t, almost, all seen before”
Letting out a groan, you let your head drop to Alessia’s shoulder in defeat. You wanted to floor to swallow you up.
“You didn’t answer her question” Tooney prompts as the three of them wait for details they’re definitely not entitled to.
You turn and square your shoulders, ready to take whatever teasing comes your way. “Long enough to stop pretending that we’re not into each other” you snap.
Alex leans in, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Let’s not kid ourselves. We all knew this was bound to happen”
Tooney adds, “Yeah, the black sheep and the golden girl, what a pair”
You roll your eyes, knowing you can’t escape the judgment.
Mary, though, takes a more serious tone, her eyes narrowing. “Alright, cut the crap. Why’d you drag Alessia into this mess? She’s the only innocent one left on the team, and you, well, you’re the resident wild card”
You scoff, “No one dragged her into anything. She’s not as innocent as you think”
Alessia interjects, he head popping up from behind you. “Guys, stop. I chose this. I made the first move. So back off, yeah?”
The room goes silent momentarily. No one, including yourself, expected Alessia to stand up for you like that. She wasn’t shy, you knew that more than anyone, but she also was never one to dive head first into conflict.
If you were being honest, it was turning you on a little.
Mary smirks, “Well, I’ll be damned. The angel actually has backbone”
You shoot them an exasperated look. “Out! Now!”
In a wave of laughs and whistles, the three of them finally stumble out of the room. The door clicks shut, leaving you and Alessia in a moment of awkward silence.
Alessia breaks into a giggle, “Well, that went well”
You shake your head with a smile, “If by well you mean I’m never going to live this down, then yes, it went exceptionally well”
She wraps her arms around you, “They’ll get over it. Eventually”
You chuckle, your hands coming up to brush hair out of her face, “Yeah, when the next scandal rolls around”
Feeling your tenstion, Alessia leans in, pressing her lips against yours in a calming, distracting kiss. Smiling into it when she feels you melt into her.
Just as you run your tongue over her bottom lip, there’s a sudden knock on the door. Mary’s voice calls out through the wood, “Enough with the love fest, you two. Weve got training tomorrow and we need you both fighting fit”
You share a slightly frustrated glance with Alessia, the interruption breaking the spell once agai. “Alright, alright,” you call back, trying to regain composure. “We’re coming!”
Well, you would be if they left you alone.
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de4dlyniightshade · 2 months
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꩜ EVERY MAN GETS HIS WISH
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꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader
꩜ RATING: +18, mdni
꩜ WORD COUNT: 2.3k
꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: smut, perv!sub!spencer, softdom!reader, underwear stealing/sniffing, mommy kink, male masturbation, handjob, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hint of degrading, praise, dacryphilia, overstimulation.
꩜ PROMPT: this ask!
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© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts.
[WARNING!] - explicit sexual content! mdni!
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꩜ A/N: kinda hate this but a few people said they wanted a perv!spence fic so here it is!(although short and mid)
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Spencer was a smart boy, obviously, but sometimes he could just be so naive. I mean, come on, you didn't just leave your used underwear in his apartment by accident. Well, actually, the first time was completely accidental, but when you used the bathroom a few days later and saw the exact same pair in his laundry basket, a familiar staining on the delicate fabric, you knew exactly what he did with them, so you decided to make it a little habit to leave your underwear for him as a treat.
This was one of those times. You had stayed the night before, showering in the morning and leaving your lacy underwear that you wore specifically with the intention of leaving them on the floor of his bathroom, an irresistible trap that he simply couldn't pass up, waiting for you to leave to spend the day with Penelope so he could snatch them up, retreating to his bedroom and tugging his pyjama pants down, settling on the edge of the bed.
He always felt guilty doing this, but he just couldn't help himself. He was always so shy around you, so flustered and bashful all the time, hardly ever initiating anything with you, let alone outright asking you to do things to him when he needed you, so this was the next best thing in his mind. It wasn't logical, but it didn't have to be to anyone but him.
Spencer let out a shaky breath as he slowly wrapped your underwear around his shaft, whining as he stroked upwards to his tip, the slightly rough material of the lace making his cock throb, whimpering at the familiar sensation.
He let his eyes flutter closed, his head tipping back and his jaw falling slack, whimpers and moans spilling from his lips as he stroked himself with your used underwear. The whole thing was so perverted and wrong, and he knew it, but he just couldn't stop himself. No matter how hard he tried to tell himself not to, he just couldn't.
"o-oh p-please…" He moaned to nobody, his thighs trembling slightly as he ran his thumb over his tip through the material, moaning out your name as he did and pressing his lips together as he whimpered pathetically.
His breathing picked up, coming out in gasps and pants as he stroked himself faster, his back arching as his mind went numb, imagining you touching him, your body on top of his, your hand wrapped beautifully around his cock, your lips on his neck, hands on his body, words in his ear, you. all of you, his head swimming with nothing but you, so much so that he didn't hear the front door open or your footsteps coming closer and closer to his room.
You had never actually planned to hang out with Penelope today; it was all a ruse to catch him in the act. You wanted to know exactly what he was doing with your underwear, even though you already knew he was jerking off into them, but you wanted to see it—to catch him cumming into your underwear like a pervert.
You couldn't help but smirk to yourself as you heard him on the other side of the door already. It had only been about five minutes since you left, and he was already whimpering and moaning desperately, hearing your name fall from his lips, his voice high-pitched and airy.
As if it were staged, his door was left ajar, just enough for you to peek in without being seen, and you couldn't resist, holding your breath as you peered through the gap, clenching around nothing at what you saw. Your beautiful, sweet boy is fucking his own fist with your dirty underwear and moaning your name.
You stood and enjoyed the sight for a moment, drinking in the opportunity to watch him without his knowledge, seeing him so brazen, not holding himself back as he usually does around you.
Once you were satisfied watching him, you slowly and silently pushed the door open, leaning on the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest and smirking at him.
"Naughty boy," you tutted, shaking your head in feigned disappointment, Spencer gasping, eyes wide and alarmed as his head snapped to look over to the sound of your voice, quickly tugging down his t-shirt to cover what he was doing, cheeks flushed cherry red.
"I-i- you- y-you were- when- i-" he stuttered, scrambling to get anything out and failing completely, the words getting caught in his throat at the sight of you, a smug look on your face, and then he knew, he knew he was caught.
"I-I'm sorry," he whimpered, looking away from you as tears sprung from his eyes, completely humiliated. The thought of you being disgusted with him made his stomach churn with worry.
"Oh, sweet boy, no need to be sorry; you just couldn't help yourself, right?" You honeyed, slowly stalking towards him, revelling in the way he gulped, averting your gaze, and nervously shifting where he sat before he nodded shakily.
"Aw, pretty little thing, show mommy," you husked, taking his chin into your fingertips and turning his face to look at you, him gazing up at you through his lashes with wide eyes, his cheeks flushing impossibly darker as he let out a shaky breath, wetting his lips as he nodded, hesitantly lifting his shirt to expose himself to you, the sight of your underwear wrapped around his painfully hard, leaking cock almost making you moan, instead pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.
"Oh my...so pretty, baby," you murmured, cupping his face and stroking your thumb over his cheekbone, Spencer whining at your praise, averting your gaze nervously, feeling shy at the whole situation.
"Go on then, don't let me stop you," you murmured, smiling sweetly at him as he turned his face away from you, whining softly and letting out a shaky breath, swallowing thickly as he pressed his thighs together.
"I said go on," you reiterated, quirking a brow at him with a knowing look on your face, watching as his eyes darted around the room before he hesitantly moved to take your underwear into his hand, lifting them off his shaft before you gripped his wrist to stop him.
"No, no, I want to see you cum all over mommy's panties," you smirked, lowering yourself to be eye level with him, fighting a smile at the way he gulped, breathing shakily. He just looked so precious that you couldn't resist surging forward to lock your lips with his, the sudden action making Spencer gasp into your mouth before he let his eyes close, moaning softly against your lips.
The kiss was short-lived as you pulled away, tugging on his bottom lip as you did just to tease him, the feeling of your teeth grazing his plush, soft lip making him let out a needy whine, his eyes fluttering open to see you staring right back into them.
You smiled sweetly as you leaned in to press your lips ever so gently to his ear. "Now, touch yourself for mommy, and maybe you'll get a reward," you whispered, running the tip of your tongue over the shell of his ear before pulling away, taking a few steps back for the best view of him.
"Y-Yes, mommy," he breathed, slowly wrapping his hand around his shaft once again, swallowing thickly as he stroked upwards, pressing his lips together to keep himself quiet as he circled his palm over his sensitive tip, the material of your underwear dampening with precum.
"Good boy," you praised softly, the feeling of having complete power over him making your head swim with the possibilities of what else you could make him do with just a simple kiss and some words of praise, the smallest thing making him completely pliant, bending to your will in any way you desired.
Spencer whined loudly, stopping his movements and turning his cheek to you in embarrassment. "I-I can't when you're looking," he pouted, letting out a disapproving huff.
"I have to do everything for you, y'know that?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes dramatically as you quickly moved to stand between his spread thighs, confusion on his flushed face before you placed your hand on his chest, roughly pushing him back to lay down, your change in demeanour making him let out a gasp that turned into a loud whimper when you wrapped your hand around his tip and squeezed, not too hard that it hurt but hard enough that his body twitched, his back arching and thighs trembling.
"Sit still," you warned, a domineering tone in your voice, your darkened eyes shooting up to glare into his wide ones, watching him nod quickly, a sadistic smile tugging at your lips as you began pumping his needy cock, quiet gasps and whimpers slipping past his lips at your touch.
You set a brutal pace immediately, stroking him from base to tip with your own underwear. The added stimulation of the lace only enhanced the pleasure, but he was just so sensitive that he could hardly form a single word, already fucked out and desperate to cum after barely a minute. You always adored how reactive he was to your touch, always whimpering so cutely, his pretty porcelain thighs twitching and tensing, his back arching towards you, and his hips rutting into you, whether it was your cunt, your mouth, or your fist, like now.
"o-oh mommy! p-please!" He moaned loudly, panting and writhing as you towered over him, fist-fucking his cock at a pace you knew would make him act this way. "I said sit still," you reminded him, huffing as you placed your free hand on his tensed stomach, pinning him to the bed to stop him from moving so much.
"S-sorry, 'm sorry, j-just so s-sensitive, mommy," he whimpered pathetically, tears spilling from the outer corners of his eyes, streaking his temples and into his hair. The sight of him so wrecked and fucked out already made you clench around nothing, your underwear sticking to you awkwardly.
"You wanna cum baby boy?" You asked in such a sickeningly sweet tone, a complete contrast to the way you were practically torturing him, purposefully overstimulating him. It wasn't like it was hard to do so; his cock was always sensitive to you.
"y-yes! Wanna cum, mommy!" He gasped, rutting his leaking cock into your fist that was wrapped around his tip, focusing on his most sensitive point just to see him tremble and hear his pitiful sounds.
"Admit you're a dirty boy; tell mommy how much of a dirty little pervert you are," you teased, a cheshire grin pulling at your lips as he gasped and whimpered desperately, tears flowing from his eyes, which were squeezed shut, his hands gripping the sheets at his sides as he thrust his cock into your hand, which you had stopped moving completely, just watching him fuck your panties to get himself off.
"Mommy's d-dirty boy! 'm your dirty boy!" He gasped, his voice whiny and pathetic, saying anything you'd tell him to as long as you'd let him cum, completely cumdrunk and desperate, a mess to your touch.
"Such a good boy," you praised, moving your hand once again to stroke his length, the head red and swollen. So desperate for release, how could you say no?
"m-mommy! c-can't-mmph 'm gonna c-cum, mommy!" Spencer cried, his body writhing, trying to squirm away from you against his will, completely overwhelmed and overstimulated, turning to bury his face into the sheet as you moved to hold him down by his hip, only stroking him faster and harder.
"Cum for mommy, baby, that's it," you husked, the sound of him sobbing and whimpering, muffled by the sheets, making you bite down on your bottom lip. He was the perfect submissive, completely compliant and obedient to you, always so good, so eager to please his mommy.
"m-momma! i-" He cried, cutting himself off with a choked sob as he came hard, his release spilling down your hand and onto your underwear as well as spurting all over his shirt, making a complete mess of himself.
"So good, baby, you did so well for mommy," you praised sweetly, slowly stroking him through his orgasm as pleasure wracked his body, twitching and trembling as he whimpered quietly and pitifully into the sheets.
"I-I can't, mommy, 's too much," Spencer whined, squirming away from you as you decided he'd had enough after briefly contemplating forcing another orgasm out of him, but the way he was gasping for breath, splayed out so beautifully fucked out under you, made you decide not to. Instead,  you shifted to rest your knees on either side of his hips, leaning down to capture his lips in a gentle kiss.
He returned the kiss lazily and out of rhythm, so exhausted and hazy from his high that he could hardly keep up with you. "Want mommy to clean you up, baby? How's a nice bath sound, hm?" You spoke soothingly and quietly as you pulled away, stroking your thumb over his smooth cheek.
"Yes, please," he croaked, his voice completely spent and raspy from all the noise he'd been making, and you couldn't help but coo at him, pouting out your lip and looking at him with big doe eyes, quickly pressing a kiss to each of his flushed cheeks and then his lips before pulling away, standing up from the bed to run him a warm bath, but not before you tucked your hands under your skirt to tug down your underwear, Spencer not noticing what you were doing as he laid with his eyes closed.
You bit down on your lip teasingly as you resisted laughing at your own devious plan, untangling your underwear from your ankles before gently tossing them. The flimsy material landed perfectly on Spencer's face, startling and confusing him as he lifted the material. "They're a bit wet, but you like 'em used," you teased, smiling devilishly at him as he blushed a deep pink, still clutching the soiled material in his hand as you turned on your heels to leave the room, and he just couldn't resist bringing them back to his face, inhaling your scent like the pervert he is.
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@cancersunthatsit @mindfullycriminal @teachugger69 @queermaxwooo @olives-and-sunshine @ac0511 @reidsdaisies @iluvreid @unimportantweirdo @criminalmindswife
(if you wanna be tagged when i post fics lmk!)
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i was thinking a whiskey if you please? :) with a side of a bbf!steve rogers? (brother’s best friend and that brother is bucky) idk recently i’ve found similarities in my physical appearance to bucky so it was just a random thought lol- but basically steve is a sweetheart towards the reader and that causes her to crush on him (and ofc cause he’s hot) and the prompt could be "Let him watch." (him being bucky 🤭)
Let Him Watch.
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warnings - cursing. allusions to sexual content.
my love, I hope you don't mind, but I decided to make this a college!au. the idea of college bucky and steve is just so delicious to me I couldn't resist <3
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
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A party. A one off visit. The boy you've been in love with since you were a kid.
Your brothers best friend.
The notorious frat boy who's always had a soft spot for you.
There's so many people in this house, you can barely stand. Bass bouncing, bodies moving, sweat dripping down backs. Lights flashing, drinks flowing, hands roaming and exploring.
You're sandwiched between two strangers when you feel a solo cups worth of liquid pour down your back, drenching you. You gasp and turn around, but can't find the culprit. Looking around the room, you search for Bucky, hoping he'll give you the key to his room so you can grab a new shirt from your overnight bag.
You fight your way through the crowd, desperate to find your brother. You can see what seems like a thousand frat boys, not one of them the one you want.
"Are you okay?" someone shouts at you, warm hand finding your shoulder.
It's Steve, who looks a little concerned, crease etched in between his brows.
"Someone threw a drink down my back," you yell back. "I can't find Bucky!"
"He's with Nat, in the backyard. Come with me."
Before you can protest, he's intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you upstairs.
You've never been in Steve's room at college. Back home, you've been in it a thousand times, but this is different. This is a place for grown up Steve, not a kid anymore Steve. This feels more sacred, somehow.
"Sorry about the mess."
You look around, and can't understand what he's talking about. The place is virtually spotless, everything neat and tidy.
"You're the least messy person I know, Steve."
He laughs and opens his closet, searching through his clothes.
"Which one? Green or blue?"
He holds up two shirts, one in each hand, offering them to you.
"Blue, please. It'll go with my skirt better."
You take it from him, a tiffany coloured tee with ROGERS written on the back. You remember him wearing it, at a practise football tournament a couple of years back.
Without thinking, you peel your wet shirt over your head, standing in front of Steve in your bra. The beer you've been sipping on has lowered your inhibitions, bravery coursing through your veins.
His eyes roam over you before he shakes his head, diverting his gaze.
"You're so beautiful," he mumbles. "Most beautiful girl in the world."
You look at him incredulously, unsure if you heard him correctly.
"What?"
"You heard me. I've never met anyone as pretty as you."
"Steve, you're drunk."
"No drunker than you are."
He takes a step towards you, trailing his fingertips up your arm.
"Shouldn't you be with some college cheerleader or something?" you whisper.
He laughs, low and warm.
"I haven't slept with anyone since I got here."
You scoff.
"You've been here for months. I don't believe that for a second."
"It's true. I've been too busy thinking about-"
He cuts himself off, dancing his fingers up to rest against your cheek. He cradles your face in his hand, looking at you seriously.
"I can't stop thinking about you."
"Me?" you whisper in disbelief.
"Yes, you. I know it's not fair on Bucky, but I don't know what else to do. It's not my fault his sister is so easy to fall in love with."
"You love me?" you choke out, eyes welling with tears. You take a breath to try and ground yourself, half convinced you're dreaming.
"I think I've loved you for years. Do you know how excited I was when Bucky said you were coming to visit? Most exciting thing to happen to me in months. I really miss you."
"I miss you too. So much. It's surprisingly hard being apart."
"I don't want to hurt Bucky," he murmurs.
"Me neither. That's the last thing I want to do. Ever."
"But I'm also sick of denying what I want."
He lunges forward and captures your lips, pulling you into him. It's tender and sweet and full of so many years of things unsaid.
You pull away to rest your forehead on his, breathing him in.
"I love you too, by the way," you whisper against his lips.
The grin he gives you is so bright, it's like looking at the sun. He is your sun. Your light in the dark. The only boy you've ever loved.
A harsh knock on the door startles you both.
"Steve, it's Sam! You in there? I need you to be my beer pong partner!"
"I'll, uh, I'll be out in a second!" Steve yells back.
"Come on, hotshot. They're wondering where you are," you chuckle, leaning up to kiss him chastely.
You throw his shirt on and check your reflection in the mirror, turning around when you hear Steve groan.
"What?"
"You look so good in my clothes."
"Control yourself, Rogers, or else Bucky's going to see."
"Let him watch," he winks, grinning when you laugh.
He links your hands and pulls you out of the door, ready to accept the inevitable consequences of being in love with his best friends sister.
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
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i'm stayin'
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'who did this to you?' wc: 869 rated: m cw: off-screen violence, mentioned childhood abuse (not in detail) tags: steve harrington has bad parents, established relationship, secret relationship, pre-season 4, hurt/comfort, asthmatic steve because i've made him go through everything else why not this too
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Steve's vision was blurry, his hands shaking as he tried to put his car in park in front of the trailer.
His backpack, no longer full of what he needed for school, sat in the passenger seat, half-zipped and telling the ugly truth of what he wasn't sure he could process right now: his parents had kicked him out with only the possessions he could shove into his bag.
Steve winced as he reached for his inhaler, a last second grab when his dad had decided he'd given him plenty of time to pack only three minutes into his rushed efforts.
He didn't need it at this moment, had managed to calm down on the drive to Eddie's, but knew it was only a matter of time before the anxiety would set in again. Hopefully, he'd have Eddie next to him when it did.
Wayne's truck wasn't in the yard, probably working another night shift. Eddie's new-to-him van was parked crooked by the front porch, like he'd been in a rush to get inside when he got home earlier.
Steve immediately stepped out of his car into mud.
Right. It rained earlier.
No lights were on in the trailer, but Wayne had given him a key only a few weeks before, saying something about how he should always have a place to go if he needed it.
Almost like he had a feeling about what was to come.
Steve opened the door, surprised to find Eddie passed out on the couch, blanket pulled up to his nose and the space heater turned off.
If his eye didn't hurt so bad, he'd roll them both. No matter how many times he told Eddie to just turn it on before he sat down so he would be warm, it didn't seem to sink in.
He turned it on, cursing quietly when it made a loud popping noise.
"Wayne?" Eddie asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up as he tried to wake up. "Work?"
"Not Wayne, Eds. Go back to sleep." The last thing Steve needed right now was Eddie freaking out about what he was sure was ugly proof of his father taking out his prejudices on him. "I'm gonna be in your room."
"Steve?" He sounded much more awake now, and Steve couldn't resist turning fully to look at him. "Holy shit. Who did this to you?"
Steve grimaced. He knew they couldn't ignore it, he was just hoping to patch himself up a bit before morning when Eddie would start asking questions.
"Um."
And then the damn tears started falling before Steve could give any explanation, and Eddie's arms wrapped around him carefully, like he was terrified to hurt him more. Eddie was always so careful with him, like he knew there were plenty of invisible bruises already.
He cried for so long, his entire body felt numb, and he could vaguely register that he was shivering. Eddie's hands were rubbing his back slowly, comforting him the best he could.
Eventually, Steve's tears stopped, his breathing slowed back to normal, and his chest didn't feel as heavy.
"Is that your inhaler or are you just happy to see me?" Eddie teased gently, leaving room for Steve to ignore him if he wasn't in the mood for jokes.
Steve snorted. "It's my inhaler. But I am happy to see you. Always."
Eddie's lips brushed the top of his head, so faint, Steve almost thought he imagined it.
"You wanna talk about it?" The caution in Eddie's voice was enough for Steve to pull his head away from his shoulder, flinching when he felt the pull of his split lip.
"Not now. Kinda tired." Understatement of the century. Steve felt like he could sleep for hours. "Can I sleep here?"
"Stevie, you can stay as long as you want, you know that."
Steve knew Eddie knew, and Eddie knew Steve wasn't gonna come outright and say it until he'd had time to come down from it all.
"Can we sleep in your bed?" Steve asked, resting his head back on Eddie's shoulder.
Eddie wordlessly led him down the short hallway to his bedroom, helped him get into comfier clothes, and used a washcloth to wipe any of the blood he'd missed at the gas station earlier.
They got in bed, Steve curling against Eddie's side like he'd done so many times before.
This felt different though. This felt like an end of something, a beginning of something else.
*-*-*-*-*-*
When Wayne saw him the next morning, he gave him a sad smile, a hug, and handed him a cup of coffee.
"You stayin'?" he asked, like it was simple.
Like Steve could stay.
"I-"
"I have two rules. One, you go to school. Two, you tell me if you're gonna be out too late, especially on a school night. You follow those, you stay. Sound good?" Wayne raised a brow.
If Steve hadn't spent the last six months at the Munson's trailer more than his own home, maybe he'd be intimidated.
As it stood, all he could do was give a small smile and grab a frozen bag of mixed veggies from the freezer to put on his swollen eye.
"I'm stayin'."
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adoresol · 2 months
Text
♥︎ 𓂃 GOOD GIRL — l. anton
1.1k *smut ⚠︎ (dom!anton & fem!reader — oral: blowjob, deep throating/throat fucking, light dumbification, praise).
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YOU KNEW ANTON WAS BUSY, watching as he strummed the strings of his cello. you're very well aware of how hardworking your pretty boyfriend was and you always admire him in moments like these but god, there was nothing more that you wanted other than for him to put it down and fuck you.
you were currently laying on his bed, your eyes never leaving his body. thoughts swarmed in your head, growing needier as time passed. you couldn't help but sigh at the lack of attention you were receiving. you were hoping for him to drop the goddamn cello and just come to you, but he wouldn't. so you sighed and sighed and sighed...
“is something wrong?” anton asked, not being able to bear you sighing within every minute that passed. he couldn't focus with you like this, if only he knew.. but he didn't even look to face you, his fingers strumming the strings and his head tilted to the angle of the instrument.
“yes. the fact that you're dick isn't in my mouth right now.” beating around the bush was not your forte, obviously.
the second that those words left your mouth, he froze and you could tell that he wouldn't go back to the cello after your comment. his cheeks immediately flushed, gulping before finally making eye contact with you. “um... i'll make it up to you later, i have to practice a bit more.” you sulked at his words, pouting at his response. as much as you love him, moments like this made you wish he had less control. “have you done your homework?” you shook your head at his words, not wanting to deal with anything else but the feeling of his lips on yours.
he placed the cello down and grabbed your laptop, handing it to you and helping you set it up on his desk. “work on this for now, my love.” he said, placing a kiss onto your forehead before going back to practicing. and you tried, you really did try but there was no use. you stared at the stupid homework assignment with no thoughts at all, turning back to look at anton with a frown on your lips. “i don't get it.”
anton never hesitates to get up and help you out, all he wants is his pretty girl to do well. meanwhile, you can't help but let your hand travel to his thigh as he's explaining the prompt to you. your fingers caressing his thigh, reaching to the zipper of his jeans. “baby.. not right now.” he bit his lip, looking down at you. one thing about anton is that he could only restrain himself for so long, and you knew it wasn't going to take much to convince him.
“please? just real quick i swear, just wanna taste you.” you whined, tugging on his pants. anton really did want to resist but the way you looked at him was too much, he gave in eventually. helping him take off his jeans, you smile up at him as to which his face flushes at your actions. the way you smile so innocently up at him as you begin to take his half hard cock into your mouth.
you licked at the precum that had gathered around his tip, nice to know you weren't the only one who was feeling some kind of way. your hands made up for what you couldn't fit in your mouth and the sounds of his quiet moans encouraged you even more. his hand reached down to hold yours as you sucked him off.
“you couldn't wait just a bit? wanted me to help out just for u to be on your knees for me without even listening?” he'd moan as you pushed him further down your throat, his grip tightening against the arm of the chair. “all you care abt is this, hm? can't even focus on something else for iust a few more minutes.” as harsh as he sounded, his voice was dripping with honey. his tone sounded so utterly sweet that you couldn't help but whine at his words. you knew that anton was secretly talking down on you for being so sex driven but you didn't care when he sounded so gentle.
his moans would be so soft and pretty too, they're quiet but so comforting, soft pants leaving his lips that turned into little whimpers. anton never cared about the size of his cock, but whenever he saw how you struggled to fit him inside of your mouth, confidence grew. his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, he didn't realize it until you gagged a bit, but he began gently fucking the back of your throat. anton bit down on his bottom lip, his hair was messily splayed over his eyes. his posture on the chair was slouched, he felt lax with his cock in your mouth. breathing out through his nose, trying to control the sounds that came out from his mouth.
he'd hum as his hips move up into your mouth, feeling his cock hit the back of your throat over and over again. the quiet noises of you gagging on his length made him moan louder, throwing his head back at the feeling. anton knew that you loved it when he'd fuck your throat, but he wasn't the type to be rough with you. so he found himself stuffing you with his cock very slowly. he would keep his cock down your throat for a few seconds before moving you up and down on his length over and over again.
as anton grew more confident in your ability to take him completely, he gently held your jaw as a means for him to fuck your mouth easier. holding your mouth open, his thumb would caress your jaw and he'd coo at your noises. “shh, you got this, baby. you wanted this, right?” looking down to see tears well up in your eyes with your mouth wide open full with his length.
“you look so pretty like this.” anton mumbled, his pants growing heavier as he felt himself close to his release. the words that left his lips made you feel on cloud nine, his praises mixed in with hints of degradation made your panties grow wet with desperation. you took what he gave you so, so well. anton couldn't help but notice the way your thighs rubbed against each other, almost as if you were trying to give yourself some kind of satisfaction. the way he treats you so gently even in times like these made you whimper around his cock, he didn't need to fuck your face to feel good, just the feeling of your throat enclosing around his length was enough for him to shoot ropes of his cum down your throat.
anton slowly removed himself from your mouth, noticing how bits of cum dropped down from the side of your mouth. he smiled softly, looking at you with warmth in his eyes. he reached down to kiss your forehead while caressing your cheek with his thumb. “good girl.”
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dedicated to @lunicho because you loved this dom!anton thought and you encourage me the most <3
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nox140497 · 3 months
Text
Attention Seeking
Prompt: No
Request: No
Summery: Colby wants some attention from his girlfriend during a live stream.
Pairings: Colby Brock x Female Reader
Masterlist
Prompt List
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It was a typical night for Y/N, sitting in front of her computer with her headphones on, ready to start her stream. As an editor for several popular YouTubers, some of those being Vanoss and most of his friends as well as doing some work for Philza and some of his friends too she was no stranger to being in front of a camera and sharing her thoughts and experiences with her fans.
Y/N's stream started off like any other, with her greeting her viewers and thanking them for joining her. But little did she know that this night was going to be different.
As she was about to dive into the topic of her latest video, there was a sudden knock on her bedroom door. Y/N paused, slightly confused, as she wasn't expecting any interruptions during her stream. But before she could even speak, the door swung open, and her boyfriend Colby appeared, wearing a mischievous grin on his face.
'Hey, baby,' he said, walking towards her.
Y/N couldn't help but smile as Colby approached her. She loved him so much and couldn't believe he had surprised her like this.
'Hey, Colby! What are you doing here?' she asked, trying to hide her excitement.
'Well, I was just missing my beautiful girlfriend and thought I would come and say hi,' he replied, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
Y/N's chat immediately went wild at the sight of Colby, with comments flooding in expressing their love and excitement for him. Y/N couldn't help but feel proud and happy that her viewers adored her boyfriend just as much as she did. Not that she was very surprised as many of them were also fans of the Sam and Colby chanel.
Colby, being the outgoing and charismatic person he was, waved to the camera and said hello to all of Y/N's fans. He then proceeded to take a seat next to her, much to the delight of the chat.
As Y/N continued her stream, talking about her recent projects and sharing updates with her viewers, Colby playfully chimed in with his own comments and jokes. Y/N couldn't resist his charm and found herself laughing and having a great time with her boyfriend right by her side.
But as the night went on, Colby wanted more attention from his girlfriend. So, without hesitation, he pulled Y/N onto his lap and continued to chat with her viewers while she sat comfortably on his lap.
The chat went crazy, with viewers commenting on how cute and adorable the couple looked together. Y/N blushed as they continued to show their love and support for her and Colby.
As her stream came to an end, Y/N thanked her viewers for joining her and gave a special thanks to Colby for surprising her and being a part of her stream. The couple then said their goodbyes to the chat and ended the stream with a sweet kiss.
Y/N couldn't believe how much love and support she received from her fans, and she knew none of it would be possible without Colby by her side. As they cuddled on the couch together, watching their favorite TV show, Y/N couldn't help but be grateful for the amazing boyfriend and community she had.
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