#Ruby Pure Heart | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ravenclaw-jojo · 3 months ago

Text

Fandom: LaDS Pairings: Caleb x afab!reader Tags: Possessive love, graphic smut, very ‘touch her and die’ vibes, breeding kink, Caleb is jealous of Xavier, light impact play, overstimulation, creampie (be safe ya’ll). MINORS DNI. WC: 2.5k

Description: You were a little late returning home from the Hunter’s Association. A/N: For @laddelulu30 who put breeding on my mind xD Also dedicated to @unintentionalseductress because well, Caleb :3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You said you’d be out late. He already expected that. Yet something about the whole situation still made him uneasy.

“There’s a pair of agents that just got back from their interrogation. We’re debriefing and then planning our schedules for the next few days. I promise, if it’s later than midnight, I’ll call you to pick me up.” You reassured him over video call.

Caleb couldn’t protest, not when your eyes are staring back at him with sincerity he’s known for the better part of your lives — it was the same look you fixed him when you wanted an extra five minutes of his time to play whatever game you’d come up with that day.

“Alright, alright, fine. Just promise to text me.” Caleb relented, the muscles in his jaw tightening despite the smile he tried to fix on his lips.

“I will.”

That was over two hours ago. Thanks to the lifestyle app that you had suggested you download onto your phones, you were able to see each other’s general location on the map, and the speeds at which your phone was traveling at. Of course this only worked if you had your phone on you and the location was only accurate up to a 3-miles radius…and that wasn’t acceptable for him. No, he needed to know where you are at all times, down to the last step.

There’s a secret app on Caleb’s work cell, one he clicked open to reveal your precise location (the Hunter’s Association building, third floor, in one of the meeting rooms that’s in the south-eastern wing). This app was connected to the tracker embedded in the ruby gemstone of the dainty gold anklet he’d gifted you. You didn’t know about the tracker’s existence of course, and if you did… well that stirred a different feeling in Caleb that he was all too happy to entertain, if his focus wasn’t already fixated on your location.

When the hour struck 10 and you still hadn’t called, he needed to take matters into his own hands.

“C’mon pip-squeak…pick up the phone.” He muttered as the video call attempted to connect.

“Caleb? Why are you calling me silly?” Your laughter made the imaginary claws around his heart retract by a few centimeters. Despite trying to maintain some semblance of restraint, the reproachful tone in his voice reverberated through his sentence.

“You said you’d call if you were staying later than midnight.”

“And it isn’t midnight.”

Caleb snorted. “Just like you to rely a little too much on technicalities.”

Your laughter made his fingers pause mid-strum against the arm of your sofa. “It isn’t technicalities, it’s the truth. Clock has yet to strike midnight, Mr Caleb.” Your teasing tone doesn't go unnoticed.

He chuckled, “It’ll be past midnight by the time you get here. Let me pick you up from work.”

“Caleb, I’m not a little girl anymore. Trust me, I’ve made the walk home a dozen times before with no problem-”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better? The pure coincidence that you haven’t been attacked by some stalker?”

Oh, it was certainly rich of him to say this. But you didn’t know that. You didn’t know how he was practically on edge right now, the sound of your laughter, the gentle curve of your lips….

“Stop that.” He commanded before he could stop himself, startling not just you but himself. It wasn’t like him to lose his control like this.

“What?” You questioned with furrowed brows.

“Biting your lip. Stop biting your lip, I want to do that.” Caleb said, his voice dropping into that gruff tone that made your thighs clench. Torn between surprise and a sudden rush of arousal, you licked your upper lip, brain trying to grasp at the thoughts that rushed through your mind from his authoritarian tone. “I…I wasn’t aware I was doing it. Sorry.”

Caleb shook his head, locks of his hair curtaining his purple gaze. “You’ve nothing to apologize for. Just be careful coming home.” He told you in a gentler tone. The soft smile didn’t reach his eyes and you wondered what could’ve possibly changed… Caleb was no stranger to you working late, especially when it came to a case that had spanned months of tracking and intel gathering.

“I will be.” You answered. You will be. Caleb thought to himself, watching the little red dot move along the map of his work phone, muscles on the back of his neck slowly relaxing when the very same dot started to move towards the building’s exit. He felt better knowing your exact location at all times.

Your fingerprint unlocked the door to your apartment and you were pleasantly surprised by the scent of good food wafting from your barely used kitchen – outside of baking, the kitchen was only functioning when Zayne happened to drop by. Though the doctor much preferred to spend time at his apartment or experiencing the service of an actual chef in a restaurant. Caleb however, had long since made himself at home in your kitchen. There was something oddly intimate about how he knew where you kept all your cups and plates, which drawer stored the utensils versus the designated junk drawer – drawerS, if we were being truthful.

“Perfect timing, the rice just finished cooking..” He gestured towards the tasty food and dinner setting that waited for them at the table. You closed the door behind you, hanging your coat with an air of playful suspicion. “What did you do Caleb?” You asked.

His easy chuckle softened your heart, while he led you to the table, the warm touch of his fingers easily breaking down said suspicions. This is Caleb. Your Caleb. “I’m not trying to butter you up pip-squeak. I promise. Juuuust making sure you’re eating, even if it isn’t really on time.” He pulled back a chair for her to sit down, before taking his own seat. You picked up on his pointed tone.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t like I intended to stay that late, I swear.” You said watching as he picked up your plate and started to arrange the home-cooked meal on it. His gaze met yours over the food, his scrutiny a little gentler than before. “Who else was there?” He asked.

You cocked your head, accepting the plate he offered. “The usual crowd, you’ve met Tara before. Then Simone was there to give a debriefing…”

“And what about that guy?”

You suddenly had flashbacks of being a preteen and Caleb’s presence scaring away any and all potential crushes. Picking at your food, you raised an innocent eyebrow. “You mean Xavier?” His silence spoke more than his words ever could.

“He hasn’t been around. Out on another mission by himself. And even if he wasn’t, do you honestly believe you have anything to be worried about?” You challenged him with a smile – one that immediately made his pants feel a little too tight. Caleb glowered back at you, “It’s not you I don’t trust, pip-squeak. Let’s make that clear. It’s other people I have little faith in.” He watched as you stood up from your seat, walking over to him. There was a glimmer in your eyes, something that hinted at mischief. Given your history, he was all too familiar with that look of yours. You had something up your sleeve.

“You know, you’ve got to start working on your expressions if you’re ever going to go undercover, y/n.” He teased, your fingers trailing across his broad shoulders. He kept his focus on you as you walked around his chair and with a gentle nudge of your hip, had him push it backwards to provide you with just enough room to sit on his lap.

You weren’t as amused by his jab, pouting up at him in a way that made his heart rate pick up. “I got a high score in ‘stealth and disguise’ thank you very much.” You retorted, arms going around his neck. Your fingers begin to play with the sterling silver chain of his dog tag, savoring the warmth of it between your fingertips. “Are you going to be a meanie all night just because you made dinner?”

His chuckle is followed by his arms cradling you, “Well I wasn’t going to say anything but since you pointed it out-...” His grip on you tightened before he stood up and carried you from the dining table.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

If he were being honest, he’d lost count of the number of orgasms he gave you. All he knew was that he’d never get tired of the way you look beneath him, the way the silver apple charm and dog tag clinked against his chest with each thrust he makes, and he’d especially never get tired of the way you moaned his name like you were begging for repentance from a god. “Where do you think you’re going pip-squeak? Don’t tell me you’re done taking cock? You were so desperate for it earlier.” His voice took on a darker edge, his evol thickening in the air, the fine hairs on your body standing on end at the gravity change in your environment. Your hips that had unconsciously tried to pull away are forced back onto his, forcing him in an angle that made you feel so full. “Caleb…” You whined, walls tight as you accommodated his hard, almost manic thrusts – like he just wanted to see how much he could pull out of you, how big of a puddle he could make on the hardwood floor of your living room.

“Love hearing you say my name like that.” He muttered, rolling his hips in figure 8’s just to further blur the lines between insanity and pleasure. “What do you think about recording it one day for me, hmm? Give me the pleasure of listening to you moaning over and over again when you send me texts.” Caleb’s smirk is replaced with a sudden darkening of his lavender eyes. “Then again, that would mean risking other people hearing your beautiful, needy voice. And I like knowing that this is all for me.” His hand slid into your hair, grasping a handful in a rough ponytail and tugging you back to focus on him. You wanted to say something but half your face is still pushed into the couch cushions, his hand keeping you in place.

SMACK.

Fuck. Your mind was blanking out, the world narrowing down to the strain of your legs while Caleb continued rutting into you like a man possessed. The sharp sting of his palm against your ass cheek only sent more heat to your groin. More… “Aww you’re so cute like this pip-squeak. Look how wet you’re getting when I treat you like the good little slut I knew you always were. I wonder how many times your colleagues fantasize about you, wonder if they know just how depraved and dirty you really like it… All hidden behind this sweet face.” He released your hair, fingers sliding around to squeeze your round cheeks, forcing your lips to purse while his eyes drank in your features.

Without so much as a warning, Caleb is suddenly pulling out of you – the disappointing emptiness only lasting for a fraction of a second before he flipped you over and with the help of his evol, pinned you down into a mean mating press – his favorite position with you. Caleb loved to watch the way your pupils dilate into lust-blown hearts when his cock stretches you, loved even more when your legs hook over his shoulders so he could leave gentle kisses along your calf, which honestly used to be his favorite part about fucking you like this. That quickly changed when he gifted that anklet to you – yes, the one with the tracker embedded in the matching apple charm – he’d also had the foresight to include another addition to the anklet: his initials. He’d only ever admit this to himself; something about the way he watched the letter ‘C’ bounce against your ankle in the same fast-paced rhythm he’d started, made his cock twitch. It was another way to mark you, filling him with prideful arrogance when he knew he’s the only privileged bastard to have their initials around your ankle. The same ankle he could hold onto when you have your legs on his shoulders. Well that was the situation until you said the very words that made the last thread of his restraint snap.

“Breed me Caleb.” You pant, his pendant and chain pooling on your sternum.

His hips stuttered, hand slamming down beside your head on the cushion while he steadied himself. “What did you say?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t catch it the first time. The burning desire within Caleb had everything to do with needing to hear it again.

The sting of your fingernails leaving angry red marks on his back made his irregular breathing heavier, especially when you’re staring straight into his eyes with that expression that practically begged him. “Breed me, please.”

“With fucking pleasure, pip-squeak.” Instincts took over when Caleb leaned down to nip on your luscious lower lip, making good on his promise from before. Once upon a time, you’d have sworn the noises escaping your lips were fake – no way those videos across the Internet could be onto something – Caleb, however, knew everything about your body, knew precisely how to break you down just to take his sweet time putting you together again. “Caleb-...”

“Louder. I want the whole building to hear who you belong to.” His voice is husky, fingers tight enough to leave bruises against the back of your thighs. You could feel every vein, every throb of his cock between your heated, velvety walls-

“Caleb!”

He was thrusting into you with blind need, the scent of your lovemaking thick in the air punctuated by the sodden thwack thwack thwack of your bodies.

Your vision is filled with a white sunburst, your body giving into your pleasure while you keened for him. The noises you made, the expression on your face, that vulnerability of how your chest seemed to flutter while you caught your breath…his. He was going to make you his. To breed you is to claim you in the most basest sense possible, no one would mistake who could’ve possibly made you swollen…the cadence of your voice begging him to breed you rang in his mind again further weakening the battle of wills he’d been having with himself – the need to drag this on as long as possible, or to fill you up to the brim with ropes and ropes of his-

“Fuuuuck…” You purred, overwhelmed from the feel of his warm cum spilling and smearing against your inner thighs.

“Y/n…” The crack in his voice instinctually made you grind against him, forcing another needy moan from Caleb. You both remained that way for a few beats, catching your breath while the white ring around the base of his cock slowly dripped along his balls. He pressed his cheek against your ankle, lips brushing against the curve of the ‘C’ from your anklet. His. You. Are. His.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

ravenclaw-jojo™️2025 writing | No copying, plagiarizing or translations without expressed permission.

#love and deepspace #lads caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #lads smut #yoyo writes #lnds #caleb smut #caleb x you

1K notes · View notes

blood-smiles · 3 months ago

Text

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 (YANDERE! LAWYER.. SFW- MDNI)

That damn maid. That goddamn maid had Alejandro crazy. Who did she think she was? Trying to get close to you? Getting all friendly with you. His darling. HIS darling.

He got rid of his ex wife, not much of a hassle really. Just a little of deception and a gentle push off a balcony was needed.

Now he had you all to himself, all his now. He thought he had made it crystal clear. He would smile as he noticed people looked at him differently now, they saw a man with purpose. Fearless and willing to do anything for his purpose.

A new hire had wormed his way into his manor, you oh-so innocently insisted for him to get at least one extra set helping hand around.

He gave into your sweet eyes and pretty pleas so easily, when you made that face.. How could he not?

But it seemed he had a new pest in his hands now. It started with her trying to get into his pants but after a small meaningless threat she had decided to back off.

But then she realized that you meant more than a lot to Alejandro. she had a natural advantage of having such a doll like face and being a woman, so she latched onto you like a flea to a dog.

He seethed as he watched her run her hands up and down your back and arms. You didn’t think much of it, so caring and so sweet. Of course you wouldn’t, you were sure of your place in Alejandro’s heart.

But Alejandro knew how easy you could be led astray by her lingering touches and tender words. After all, he had used the same method on you, but the difference was that he loved you. He did it all in the name of love, something pure and beautiful.

But this filthy harlot didn’t have the same intentions he did though. No, this was all twisted and wrong. She wanted to get back at him for cruelly insulting and rejecting her. The man saw how the maid smirked at him when she succeeded in making you laugh or flush in embarrassment.

Enough was enough.

The purple haired man sat beside you on a cloudy day, the both of you were enjoying a savory meal he had prepared for you. He gently wiped your face when you smeared food on your cheek.

If it was anyone else he would be appalled, a grimace on his elegant features.

But in his eyes you looked so happy and cute, of course there are exceptions for you!

Then tragedy struck, Annalise, the new maid had ‘accidentally’ spilled a pitcher of water on her uniform while bringing it to the both of you.

Water splashed over you and her, and to his disgust, she landed on you. Chest pressed against your face and arms wrapped around your shoulders for stability.

She smiled at you with feigned embarrassment, apologizing meekly as she looked down at you.

“G-GET OFF HER!” Alejandro uncharacteristically yelled, grabbing her hands, prying them off your shoulders. His own arms flying to hug you tightly against his chest this time, looking at the woman like she had just dropped poison in your tea.

Annalise looked up at him, a calculating look in her eyes. She was about to begin with those sad puppy eyes. Repulsive. It was repulsive and vile how she thought that she could manipulate you into feeling bad for her, with those crocodile tears of hers.

She turned around and ran away, hoping that you would trail after her and offer your sweet condolences to the woman.

“Alejandro! What is the matter with you? Look! You made her cry!” You exclaimed, turning to him, not anger, but disappointment in your eyes.

You tried to pry his arms off you, he was significantly taller and stronger than you, your shoves against him feeling like the playful paws of a puppy against his chest.

He dragged you away to a room inside the large house. Closing the door behind him before grabbing you again.

Tears welled in his eyes, eerily quiet as he held onto you for dear life. He shook his head, his ruby like eyes not leaving your form.

His shoulders shook in frustration. In longing.

He suddenly lunged, arms wrapping around your own, his biceps pinning your arms to your hips, making it impossible to move.

“Don’t.. Don’t leave me! She—She is lying! That prude witch is trying to steal you from me!”

His tone was desperate, the delicate and professional glasses on his nose bridge sliding down, the lenses becoming fogged and wetted by his salty tear drops.

“P-Please.. I’ll do anything! I’ll make her disappear if you want, do you want that? She won’t be able to take you away from me if she is gone first!” He dropped to his knees, hands gripping the flesh of your calves tightly.

“I’ll be good! I promise— I-I’m a loyal mutt for you! I will always be devoted to you! You have my leash in your hand! Don’t leave with her, I beg you!” He exclaimed, tears running down his face. Lips beginning to bleed from the force he was biting down with.

“You are mine! Only mine! And..And I swear with my life that I am yours! I will provide for you and protect you! What can that disgusting wench go for you? Nothing at all! I’m all you need, all you need is at your feet!”

He laughed, tears still streaking his face, madness circling in his eyes in spirals. His pale hands unbuttoned his dress shirt enough to expose his chest, pressing his soft skin against your leg.

You felt the pounding of his heart against your leg, his chest red from his own nails clawing at it. As if wanting to rip his heart out in an act of love, to prove that he was willing to give up his own life for you.

He gasped out between soft sobs, the skin below his eyes and tip of his nose turning a pretty red from crying. Taking shaky breaths, waiting to see what your reaction was.

You stared down at him, not expecting this sudden outburst from him, one of the most calm and collected men you had ever met. He kept his emotions controlled to a T, never would he let anyone see vulnerability from him, he had everything puppeteered to a precise and perfect point.

It was unexpected, to have him at your feet desperate for your attention and approval. Having a meltdown and a fit of jealousy and insecurity.

He was such a pretty crier. You knew this because of the passionate love nights the two of you would have. The only difference this time was that he wasn’t crying out of pleasure, but out of envy and frustration.

You lifted an arm, gently placing it on his head, your fingers beginning to thread through his soft straight hair. Making small braids in his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

His bruising hold on your leg softened as he leaned his head against your hand.

“You’re so strange.” You finally spoke, smiling down at him.

“I love you, Alejandro. I’m already bound to you in every way, I thought you knew this well already.” You assured, hand leaving his head and instead dragging down to his face, taking his glasses from his face and cleaning them with the hem of your shirt.

“You get jealous over such silly things.” He looked up at you with admiration, moments like this solidified his belief that you truly were the one for him. His other half.

You gently placed his glasses back on his nose, gently pushing them up for him.

Alejandro pushed you down to his level, embracing you in a tight hug yet again. His chin resting on the top of your head as he relished in your warmth.

He closed his eyes, relief spreading throughout his chest at the reminded that he didn’t have any competition. You, the apple of his eye weren’t going anywhere.

Perhaps it was time to put that snake-like bitch’s head on a stick, then maybe that will make a statement that you were off limits. ♥︎

#yandere x reader #smilesyanderes #yandere #male yandere #male yandere x reader #fem reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #yandere male #alejandroposting #yandere tendencies #yanderecore #yandere x darling #yandere school #soft yandere #yandere blog

1K notes · View notes

yes-no-maybe-soo · 4 months ago

Text

Little Dove

(Or, the birth of Sylus' daughter)

Just pure, unabashed fluff ♡ Dad!Sylus means the universe to me.

Not proofread, written entirely on a whim 🙈

If you want even more Dad!Sylus, there is a part 2 to this here, a short fluff piece about his first time holding his baby girl skin-to-skin ♡

For years, Sylus has been a connisseur of music. Has amassed a vast and impressive collection of vinyls. Listened to practically every classical piece there is. And yet... nothing has sounded as wondrous or beautiful to his ears as the first cries of his newborn daughter. The sound of her makes Sylus' breath catch and his heart skip a beat.

When the baby — your baby. his baby. — is placed in your arms, the world around Sylus seems to narrow down, and for the next few moments it's as though you and the precious new life you hold in your arms are the only beings that exist in it.

The sight of you — exhausted, yet with a smile so radiant that it would put a thousand suns to shame — cradling your little dove causes Sylus' chest to tighten, an unfamiliar lump forming in his throat.

Joy. Relief. Pride. Love. They all swirl around in his heart, expanding to an extent he had never before thought possible for a fiend like himself. But as of yet, he holds the dam together, blinking away the stinging mist forming in his eyes.

After pressing a kiss to your damp temple, Sylus gently, and with uncharacteristic tentativeness, reaches out to touch his daughter for the first time, his index finger tenderly stroking her soft little cheek.

"She is beautiful" he murmurs, the deep timbre of his voice thick with emotion. "Like her mother" he adds, looking up to meet your gaze with a gentle smile that completely softens his sharp features. They hold no trace of the imposing leader of Onychinus. Nor is there any hint of his trademark smug smirk or arrogance. There is only the unfiltered adoration and love of a husband and father.

- 🐦‍⬛

Tiny. She is so tiny.

Sylus finds himself inwardly marveling the first time he holds his daughter, his large hands all but dwarfing her.

And yet, despite the miniscule weight of his baby girl, Sylus feels it more keenly than he has ever felt anything in his life.

Throughout his long life, Sylus has held more riches, more exquisite jewels and rare valuables in his hands than he could ever count. But never before has he held a treasure near as priceless as the tiny, flailing bundle wrapped up in soft blankets now in his arms.

A small part of Sylus is, for the first time in his life, terrified. A little crack forming in his seemingly impenetrable self-assurance, giving way to his first bout of parental worry.

She is so small. So fragile. What if he accidentally ends up hurting her in some way?

However, Sylus doesn't let any of his newfound nervousness show, as ever the master of self control. Instead, he puts all his focus on soothing his little one, — who has begun wailing softly — already putting her and her needs before his own worries.

Instinctively, Sylus starts to carefully rock the tiny wailing newborn, humming to her in the same low, tender (but oh so out of tune) tone he always used on her while she lay in your womb. And your little girl, as if recognizing her father's voice, ceases crying, her little face unscrunching, peering up at him with wonder in her ruby red eyes. The moment her beautiful orbs meet his, Sylus feels his throat tightening and his heart squeezing, his whole being quite literally overwhelmed by the sheer strength of love he is experiencing.

His little dove. So beautiful. So perfect in every way.

Part of Sylus is in disbelief that someone like himself had had part in her creation. That something so innocent, so fragile, so breathtaking, so indescribably precious could come from a fiend and criminal like himself. However, he has long vowed that he will give her all the opportunities, all the care, all the security, all the affection, all the happiness that he himself never had growing up. His child will never be forced to be an outcast, nor a criminal. She will be free to be whoever and whatever she wants to be. To soar as high as she pleases. The sky will be her limit.

Sylus has only held his little girl for a few moments, and yet he already loves her so much that he hardly knows what to do with himself. It is a vaguely terrifying feeling in its sheer, fierce intensity, yet one he can no longer imagine living without.

As he keeps humming softly to his baby, his thumb gently stroking her impossibly tiny yet perfect fingers, his eyes still locked onto hers, Sylus is unable to hold back the tears that creep up again, try as he might. He has always been an expert at managing his emotions, but the flood welling over him is beyond even his capability to control. And so the leader of Onychinus relents and the dam breaks, silent tears running slowly down his cheeks in a rare instance of raw vulnerability.

Sensing your gaze upon him, Sylus finally looks up, his red rimmed eyes meeting yours. With a soft smile, radiant in its unfiltered joy and pride, he bends over you and plants a kiss on your lips, a stray drop of rain landing on your cheek when he withdraws.

"Thank you" he says softly, his expression one of indescribable, limitless love and adoration for you and the tiny life you've created. You smile at him, and reach out to gently wipe away the tears that are gathered in his dark lashes with your thumb.

Tenderly handing your now sleeping daughter back to you, Sylus settles beside you on the bed, wrapping his arm around you and holding you close as you both gaze down at the dozing baby girl in your arms. Yours and his very own little dove. The living embodiment of your love. The very testament to your mutual perseverance against fate.

.♡

#woke up overflowing with dad!sylus feels #this was such a joy to write augh #sylus #lads #love and deepspace #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus lads #girl dad sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads fic

1K notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 13 days ago

Text

One piece men and the one thing you can get away with doing excessively.

Zoro - sleeping on his chest when he naps

Zoro preferred alone time, preferred his naps undisturbed, and his peaceful sleep unbroken.

Yet he couldn’t seem to ever bring himself to wave you away, especially whenever he would see you from the corner of his eye coming over with a light blanket clutched in your hand, eyes practically sparkling as a warm smile splayed itself across your face.

He didn’t find it reasonable to push you off of him when you made yourself comfortable on his chest, clinging onto him as though he’d slip between your fingers, before tracing patterns and words into the exposed skin of his chest as per your routine that Zoro had now memorised even with his eye closed.

It was practically ingrained within his head: He’d settle down for a nap -ready to drift off- when he hears you coming towards him, knowing that you’ve brought the same blanket that you always brought when he was about to have a nap, you settle down next to him and rest your head upon his chest while cuddling his side like he was some glorified plush toy of yours.

Despite wanting to sleep alone, undisturbed, Zoro couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips as he brings his arms to hold you close to him, tuck you under his chin almost and find himself out like a light soon after. Your weight is welcoming for Zoro, something for him to ground himself when he drifts from dream to dream and find comfort in knowing you’d be there, safe and sound when he awakes like you always should be.

Law - touches

Law wasn’t exactly against physical touch, it was just that he never allowed himself into situations where he could drop the ghosts of his past and reach out, as though something within him was holding him back from doing so.

It wasn’t like he didn’t like touch, secretly he craved it more then anything, but yet he felt as though he had to put a good deal of distance between himself and others, allowing only the briefest of contact to exist and leave him like a ghost.

So when you touch him -even if it’s a brief pat on his bicep- he didn’t feel the need to move away but instead to lean in to your touch, to your affection and allow himself to be greedy with it, hold your hands to his cheek and hum low in his throat as his eyes closed and just breath.

Though these moments would have to be confined within his room, where he could fully let the moment sink in, to let himself latch onto your warmth and comfort as his thumbs slowly caress your inner wrists, to let himself unravel and bare himself to you in this quirt moment of vulnerability. He may steal hearts but you were the first to have stolen his, kept it safe against your own as though it was the most sacred treasure you could ever come across.

Law found his mind has gone silent when your finger massages the furrow in his brow until his face is completely relaxed, only to then trace his jaw and the nearest tattoos within your reach as though you were admiring a work of art, appreciating what made him Law and respecting the things he’s went through without needing words to do so. He melts under your touch as if he was made of pure butter, he can’t help it as he had went without for far too long, and a smile would creep up on his lips too as he fully indulged in something he could call his own.

Buggy - kiss his nose

Buggy isn’t fond of his nose, not one bit, hates it even and has developed massive insecurities over it as well as a not so flashy image of himself.

He gets incredibly defensive over it or just hearing the word like ‘nosy’ or anything that might’ve easily gotten misinterpreted for ‘nose’ within his overthinking mind, making him quick to bristle up like a cat and lash out at whoever he thought was taking the piss about his ruby nose.

Yet when you grant it gentle kisses, holding his face as though you were honoured to hold him, caressing his cheeks and whispering sweet words about him and his supposed handsomeness. Sure he was a little against it at first, it’s a natrual reaction of his at this point, almost as though it if was muscle memory that he couldn’t get rid of even if he tried.

Yet in due time Buggy found himself melting against your affection, smiling softly as your lips met his makeup free face as though you couldn’t bring yourself to stop kissing him, or his nose for that fact as it was the main thing you often bombarded with an abundance of love and appreciation.

He grows addicted to the feeling of unconditional love that even on his worst days you were doing all you could to make him smile -even if it was a little- while peppering his face in kisses and words that only spoke of your true feelings towards him, and yet Buggy felt as though he hasn’t seen the bulk of it and this was merely a small percentage of how much you actually love him; that thought alone was enough to have poor Buggy as red as cherries and flustered to high heavens.

679 notes · View notes

sh4nksslvt · 2 months ago

Note

Yolo! Can I request for luffy x immortal! Reader? Reader is unable to die, each and every injury will heal after readers heart stops beating, bringing them back to life shortly afterwards. But Luffy didn't know of readers devil fruit, and felt a range of emotions seeing readers lifeless body, only to find out that they came back to life later on.

The ending is entirely up to you! I just want to know on how this scenario will play out, and thank you for your amazing works!

ohh thats intersting, hope u like this!

Can't Keep a Good Pirate Down

Luffy discovers his immortal lover’s devil fruit power the hard way when a chaotic island brawl leaves them temporarily dead, sparking hilarity and heartfelt moments.

luffy X fem!reader | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, slight angst, sfw, chaos, hurt/comfort, near death(?)lol, ooc(?) a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe and akward word count: 1.7k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The Thousand Sunny bobbed gently at the dock of a vibrant, chaotic island called Fiesta Isle, where the air smelled of roasted meat, gunpowder, and questionable decisions. The island was a pirate’s paradise—street markets overflowing with food, shady merchants peddling “authentic” treasure maps, and brawls breaking out every ten minutes. Naturally, the Straw Hat Pirates fit right in. Luffy had declared it “the best island ever” within five minutes of docking, mostly because he’d spotted a stall selling grilled squid skewers as big as his arm.

You, the immortal wielder of the Yomigaeri-Yomigaeri no Mi, were having the time of your life. Your devil fruit power was a bizarre one: no matter how grievous the injury, you’d heal completely after your heart stopped, reviving shortly after. It was a secret you’d kept from most of the crew, not out of mistrust but because you hadn’t found the right moment to explain, “Hey, I die sometimes, but it’s cool, I get better.” You’d been Luffy’s partner for months, drawn to his infectious energy and unshakable heart, but even he didn’t know about your power. Today, you figured, was as good a day as any to keep enjoying the chaos without spilling the beans.

The crew had scattered across Fiesta Isle for their usual shenanigans. Zoro was napping in an alley, Sanji was flirting with a fruit vendor, Nami was haggling over a suspiciously cheap ruby, and Usopp was regaling a crowd with tales of his “8,000 followers.” You and Luffy, meanwhile, were in the thick of a street festival, where a brawl had erupted over who got the last meat skewer. Luffy, predictably, was at the center of it, laughing like a maniac as he dodged punches and flung pirates into fruit stalls.

“C’mon, Y/N!” Luffy called, his grin wide as he stretched his arm to yank you into the fray. “This is fun!”

You laughed, ducking a flying bottle. “You’re gonna owe me a new shirt if this gets ripped, captain!” Your sword flashed as you parried a drunk pirate’s cutlass, sending him stumbling into a pile of melons. The crowd roared, half cheering, half throwing punches. It was pure, glorious chaos, and you loved every second of it.

Until, of course, things went sideways.

A hulking pirate with a mace the size of a small cow charged through the crowd, aiming for Luffy. You saw it coming and, without thinking, shoved Luffy out of the way. “Look out—!” The mace connected with your chest, sending you flying through a stall of questionable seafood. Wood splintered, shrimp went airborne, and you hit the ground hard, ribs definitely not in the right shape anymore.

“[Y/N]!” Luffy’s voice cut through the din, equal parts shock and fury. He spun, his eyes blazing, and launched himself at the mace-wielding pirate. “Gomu Gomu no Pistol!” His fist stretched, slamming the guy into a nearby tavern wall, which promptly collapsed. The crowd scattered, screaming, as Luffy skidded to your side.

You were sprawled in the wreckage, eyes closed, blood trickling from your mouth. Your heart had stopped—standard procedure for your devil fruit. You’d be back in a minute, good as new, but Luffy didn’t know that. To him, you looked… dead.

“Y/N?” Luffy’s voice cracked as he dropped to his knees, shaking your shoulders. “Hey, c’mon, get up! You’re tougher than that!” His hands hovered over you, unsure, his usual confidence shattered. The festival noise faded as the crew started converging, drawn by the commotion.

Sanji arrived first, cigarette nearly falling from his lips. “What the hell happened?!” He glared at the unconscious mace guy, then at you, his face paling. “Oh no, no, no—Y/N-chan?!”

Zoro jogged over, katanas half-drawn. “She’s not moving. Luffy, what—”

“She’s fine!” Luffy snapped, but his voice wobbled. He shook you harder, his straw hat slipping back. “She’s gotta be fine! Y/N, wake up!” His eyes were wide, searching your face for any sign of life. The sight of you—motionless, bloodied—hit him like a cannonball. He’d seen plenty of fights, plenty of injuries, but this was different. This was you.

Nami skidded to a stop, her hand over her mouth. “Is she…?”

“Don’t say it!” Luffy shouted, his voice raw. “She’s not—!” He froze, his hands trembling. For the first time in forever, Monkey D. Luffy looked scared.

Usopp, panting from running, clutched his slingshot. “We need Chopper! Where’s Chopper?!”

“Chopper’s on the ship!” Robin said, appearing with her calm but concerned demeanor. Her arms bloomed around you, gently checking for a pulse. “Luffy, she��”

Before Robin could finish, your body twitched. A faint glow pulsed under your skin, your devil fruit kicking in. Your ribs snapped back into place, your wounds sealed, and your heart gave a dramatic thump. Your eyes flew open, and you gasped, sitting up like you’d just woken from a nap.

“Ow,” you groaned, rubbing your chest. “That guy hits like a damn Sea King.”

The crew stared, jaws dropped. Luffy blinked, his face a mix of shock, relief, and utter confusion. “Y/N?! You’re… you’re alive?!”

You grinned, brushing shrimp guts off your shoulder. “Yeah, sorry about that. Forgot to mention—I can’t die. Yomigaeri-Yomigaeri no Mi. Kinda my thing.”

Luffy gaped, then grabbed you in a bone-crushing hug, nearly sending you back to the ground. “You idiot! You scared me!” His voice was muffled against your shoulder, but the relief in it was palpable. “I thought you were gone!”

You laughed, patting his back. “Takes more than a mace to keep me down, captain. You okay?”

“Me?!” Luffy pulled back, his eyes comically wide. “You were dead! Dead! And now you’re not! What the heck?!”

Sanji lit a new cigarette, still shaken. “You could’ve warned us, you know. I almost had a heart attack.”

Zoro snorted, sheathing his swords. “Tch. Should’ve known. No one that reckless dies easy.”

Nami smacked your arm, then winced, realizing you’d just “died.” “Don’t do that again! Do you know how much I was planning to charge Luffy for your funeral?!”

“Funeral?!” you and Luffy said in unison, then burst out laughing.

Robin chuckled, her arms retracting. “A fascinating devil fruit. You’ll have to tell us more, Y/N.”

Usopp, still clutching his slingshot, pointed accusingly. “You can’t just die and come back like it’s nothing! That’s not normal! Even for us!”

Before you could respond, the mace-wielding pirate groaned, stirring in the rubble. Luffy’s grin turned feral. “Oh, you’re awake? Good.” He cracked his knuckles. “Nobody hits my Y/N and gets away with it!”

You grabbed his arm, laughing. “Lu, chill! I’m fine, see? Let’s not start another brawl… yet.”

He pouted but relented, crossing his arms. “Fine. But you’re explaining this fruit thing. Right now.”

Back on the Thousand Sunny, the crew gathered in the galley, where Sanji whipped up a feast to “celebrate Y/N-chan not being dead.” The table was piled with meat, rice, and questionable cocktails, and the mood was a mix of chaotic relief and nosy curiosity. You sat next to Luffy, who kept sneaking glances at you like you might keel over again.

“So,” you started, holding a skewer, “my devil fruit makes me immortal. Sorta. Any injury, no matter how bad, heals when my heart stops. Then I come back, good as new. Downside? It hurts like hell every time.”

Chopper, who’d finally joined the party, gasped, his medical brain in overdrive. “That’s incredible! But also terrifying! What about your organs? Your brain? Do you age?!”

You shrugged. “Dunno. Haven’t aged much since I ate it ten years ago. Organs seem fine. Brain’s… questionable, but that’s just me.”

Luffy, munching on a chicken leg, frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me? I was freaking out!”

You ruffled his hat, grinning. “Didn’t wanna worry you. Plus, it’s not like I die every day. Usually, I dodge the big hits.”

“Usually?!” Nami shrieked. “You mean this has happened before?!”

“Uh… maybe a few times,” you admitted, scratching your neck. “There was that cannonball incident in Alabasta, and the time I fell off a cliff in Skypiea—”

“You WHAT?!” Luffy and Chopper yelled, while Zoro choked on his sake.

Robin smiled serenely. “You fit right in with this crew.”

Sanji slid a plate of desserts your way, still a bit pale. “If you die again, at least do it after dinner. I’m not wasting good food on a corpse.”

You laughed, grabbing a pastry. “Deal. But no promises.”

Luffy slung an arm around you, his grin back in full force. “You’re so cool, Y/N! SHISHISHI! Immortal! That’s awesome! But no more dying, okay? I don’t like it.”

You leaned into him, warmth spreading through you. “No promises, captain. But I’ll try to keep the dramatic deaths to a minimum.”

Usopp leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Wait, wait, wait. Have you ever used this to prank people? Like, pretend to die and then pop up like, ‘Boo!’?”

You smirked. “Oh, yeah. Scared a whole Marine base once. They thought I was a ghost. Ran screaming.”

The crew erupted in laughter, Usopp slamming the table. “We gotta try that! Luffy, let’s fake Y/N’s death next island!”

“No way!” Luffy said, hugging you tighter. “She’s not dying again, even for a prank!”

“Aw, c’mon,” you teased, poking his cheek. “It’d be hilarious. Imagine their faces!”

Luffy pouted, then grinned. “Okay, maybe. But only if I get to punch the Marines after.”

“Deal,” you said, sealing it with a kiss on his cheek. He blushed, then laughed, pulling you into his lap. The crew groaned, but their smiles said they were used to your antics.

Later, as the party wound down, you and Luffy sat on the Sunny’s figurehead, the night sky glittering above Fiesta Isle. The festival lights twinkled below, and the crew’s laughter echoed from the galley. Luffy’s arms were wrapped around you, his chin on your shoulder.

“I really thought I lost you,” he said quietly, the rare serious tone making your heart ache. “It sucked.”

You turned, cupping his face. “I’m sorry, Lu. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I’m here, okay? And I’m not going anywhere. Not for real.”

He nodded, his eyes searching yours. “Good. ‘Cause you’re my Y/N. And I can't be a pirate king without you. And… y’know, other stuff.”

You laughed, kissing him softly. “Other stuff, huh? Like eating all your meat?”

He gasped, mock-offended. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me, captain.”

He tackled you, both of you collapsing in a giggling heap. The Thousand Sunny rocked gently, the island’s chaos a distant hum. You were immortal, sure, but moments like this—with Luffy’s laughter, the crew’s warmth, and the promise of adventure—made you feel truly alive.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #idk what im doing #idk man #fluff #slight angst #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #op luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy x you #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #straw hat pirates

544 notes · View notes

syluriar · 6 months ago

Text

drying hair - sylus x mc reader

sypnosis: literally just sylus drying your hair because he's whipped for you.

a/n: just had this cute thought of sylus drying your hair because for me personally i'm not a fan of it, and that's just one of the reasons why sylus would do it for you, other than that he loves the hell out of you. also not proud how i eneded this, writing has been a bitch latley because my brain won't work with me :( also no grammer check because i'm TIRED.

contains: mc!reader. sylus teasing you but you tease him back. call back to grassland romance. you thinking on your feelings for sylus. just bascially fluff.

word count: 1366

“Can I dry your hair, sweetie?”

It was a simple question, but it made you freeze and look at Sylus, who was towering above you from your seasted position at your desk, hair dryer in hand and ready to go.

Curiosity filled you at his offer, and other times you would have followed it, bothering Sylus until he either revealed why or you would do your own investigation.

But your arms were already aching from the towel drying, and you really did want to relax today after a grueling day fighting Wanders and filling reports. You had planned the rest of the day for ultimate relaxation and the only thing that would make it worse was drying your hair, a process you had to admit was not enjoyable for you.

So if you can get out of it, why not?

“Ok,” You give him a nod. “Sure.”

And Sylus looked…absolutely delighted. His eyes shined and his smile was pure and you pondered why he’s reacting that way to do something for you, then again could you really be surprised? He’s made it known that he is at your beck and call, anything you want he’ll get you. You’re positive that if you asked him that you wanted a specific food item that can only be obtained within it’s country, Sylus would get it for you the next day.

Those gestures still made you nervous as you weren’t used to such things, but at least now you graciously accept them instead of telling him off and refusing his gifts. Now it was cheeks burning and heart pounding, and your still quite puzzled on how your feelings for him have changed.

You forget about the hair dryer until it’s turned on in his hands, the buzzing pulls you our of your thoughts and focuses on the man now behind you. His free hand threads through your damp hair, fingernails just grazing your skull and you hold back a shiver of delight at the touch.

“Hold still now, kitten.”

The warm air hits you like a gentle breeze as Sylus starts the task, his fingers gentle as they part your hair to reach every part, the dryer not staying in one place too long to avoid a burning sensation on your skull.

With your hands empty, your fingers fidget together, unsure of what to do. You have the twitch you squirm which you fight against, so you keep your eyes down, focusing on the flower pattern on your silk nightgown, another gift from Sylus.

You hear a chuckle lined with amusement that spreads embarrassment through your body. “Head up, sweetie.”

You can imagine the look on his face, that teasing smirk with creased corners at his eyes that holds mirth. You swallow and push back your fluster as you raise your head, your eyes promptly looking back into the mirror and ranking over the state of your hair, only to catch his own staring back at you.

They’re enchanting, like ruby gems that only shine for you. Flowers dead in a field that will only bloom in your presence, something poisonous that is only sweet on your tongue. The way he looks at you was as if you were the only thing that existed in the universe, the way they radiate and all the emotions they hold just for you is…exhilarating.

A silent gasp leaves your lips when you notice how long you’ve been staring at Sylus through the mirror, and how he’s been staring back. His hand slides from your hair to your bare shoulder, his touch sending a shock of electricity through your body.

“You’ve been staring for a while, kitten. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

You push the comment, trying not to let him get under your skin. “Just making sure you know what your doing. Messing with my hair isn’t something you should do.”

“Oh?” He’s teasing again, that damn smirk back on his lips. His eyes leave yours as he threads his fingers through your hair again. “I assure you, sweetie, that I would never mess with your hair, or don’t you remember what I said back in the Grasslands?”

“I like your hair.”

Of course you remember that, you remember everything that happened when the two of you were transported to another place, either back in time or another universe, your still not quite sure, but you were thankful for it nonetheless. It was a turning point for your relationship with Sylus, where you allowed the two of you to go closer and accepted that your feelings towards him were growing.

“...I remember.” Your cheeks burning as you admit it - remember it. His fingers grazed through your hair like he’s doing now. “I also remember you saying that you would work on your braiding skills.”

He hums, which isn’t as off-key as his singing, thankfully. “But to do that I would need a lot of time practicing on your hair to honor my skills.” He looks back at you through the mirror, catching your still eyes. “Would you give me your permission, kitten?”

You imagine it, days of Sylus’ fingers combing through your hair as he braids the threads, tutorials playing as he watches intensely, pins and all sorts on your desk to hold his work in place. You imagine yourself, helping him through it all, teasing him when he’s stuck and cheering him up if something goes wrong.

It feels nice, domestic even.

You can’t help but smile at it, your stomach filled with butterflies at the thought of doing such things with Sylus.

“I would.”

He gives a huff of amusement, but the smile on his lips is pure and real. Perhaps he’s been thinking of such things with you, and it makes you feel giddy.

He goes back to drying your hair and you close your eyes, finally relaxing. You allow yourself to sink into his touch as his fingers comb through your hair, enjoying how gentle and peaceful it makes you feel.

“All done.” Sylus clicks off the dryer and you open your eyes to look at yourself in the mirror, ranking over the state of your now dried hair

You hum. “Not bad for your first time.”

“I’ll take that,” He chuckles. “Though like I said before, I would need to practice more on you to get it right.”

“You have permission for that as well.”

“Good.”

His fingers are back in your hair and your amazed how at ease it makes you feel, giving him permission to touch your hair more might be better for yourself rather than him.

Though you wonder…

You turn and look at him, redness on your cheeks as you retort. “As long as I can do the same to your hair.”

He looks surprised by your words and it makes you feel smug as you don’t get that reaction often. But he finally smiles and cups your cheeks, bringing your face so close to his that his nose brushes against yours. “You can do that and more to me, sweetie. I’ll never say no to you.”

Now your sure your a blushing mess, if not by your burning cheeks, then certainly by your pulsing heart that your positive Sylus hears.

God, how does this man make you feel this way so easily?

To hide it all you tease him back. “That’s a pretty big statement to say Sylus. Never say no to me? I wonder how far I can go with that.”

“I look forward to finding out, kitten.” He replies before leaning back, but not before booping your nose. “Now it’s time for bed. I remember a certain someone saying they were going to sleep early to improve their health.”

You don’t even get up from the chair as Sylus has you in his arms in seconds, a squeal of surprise leaving your lips as he carries you to the bed, laying you down gently and settling down beside you..

“Rest now.” His arms wrap around your waist, holding you to his chest as you cuddle under the silk sheets. “We have fun days ahead of us, so make sure not to be tired once they come.”

#mine #love and deepspace #my writing #sylus #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #sylus needs more fluff fanfics

943 notes · View notes

jinusajas · 3 months ago

Text

03/30/25; 08:55pm

sylus x fem.reader

notes: solo sylus fic solo sylus fic solo sylus fic bc i saw his washboard abs and got thirsty (⺣◡��)♡

once a sylus girlie always a sylus girlie

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

thinking about catching sylus the moment he steps out of the shower.

you had woken up just minutes later, stepping into the bathroom to begin your morning routine when the sight of your beloved standing naked in the middle of the bathroom successfully distracts you. he notices your awed gaze and tilts an eyebrow up at you in response, “like what you see, sweetie?”

your mouth was practically salivating now, gaze following a single droplet of water that travels from his sharp collarbone before descending even lower, taking in the perfect view of his muscular abdomen.

acting purely on your desires alone, you take shaky steps toward him, feeling as though you were in the presence of a man made perfect by the gods themselves. his pale skin appeared to have been carved out by marble, without a single flaw to be seen. you were dimly aware of how your name falls from his parted lips in an almost reverent manner-

yet all you could focus on was the divine beauty settled before you.

your lips latch on to his chest, tongue curled over his hardened nipple. the sensation of your hot mouth on his skin sends pinpricks of pleasure coursing through him, making the onychinus leader weaker to your touch. sylus tosses his head back, bracing himself against the marble counter when he feels you littering heated kisses across the expanse of his chest.

so lost in the pleasure you had oh so graciously gifted him, sylus remained blissfully unaware of how you began trailing your kisses lower and lower on his body, not stopping until you were fully kneeled as your eyes were met with the noticeable tent within his towel.

licking your lips at the sight, you place both hands on the damp towel before tugging it off of him. the cold air felt hitting at the base of his cock makes sylus hiss in response, his eyes no longer having its ruby-red quality as an endless void of darkness stares down at you. you take a moment to admire his pretty erection, hands already coming around the base of him as you began your steady strokes. beads of precum escapes from his cockhead, allowing you to further tease him when you used the cloudy fluid as lubrication to help with stroking him to full hardness.

“fuck, kitten… you really must need me if you’re acting like this this early in the morning.” you give him a sly grin in response, “and would that be a problem, sy?”

you knew that sylus had a smart reply on the tip of his tongue, yet the moment you surged forward and engulfed his cock within your mouth, all sense of coherency was lost on him. sylus bites down on his bottom lip, nearly drawing out blood when he feels the way your tongue curls around the length of his cock. even more blood was felt pounding out from his heart and into the area that needed you the most. had your mouth not been so busy with giving him the best head of his life, you would have smiled upon feeling the way his cock pulsates from within you.

clenching your eyes shut, you focus solely on sylus, wanting him to release everything he had as you drank up all that you had to offer. your mouth works on coating the entirety of his cock with your saliva, hoping that it would help with bringing him further down your throat.

your hands gently play with his balls while you bob your head back and forth, moving up and down his length as you tried to coax a release out of him. when you felt the familiar twitch once more, you were ready to lock his cock in place for a brief second-

only to be harshly pulled away from him. you were still in a daze, whining and whimpering at the sudden loss of him when sylus manages to place your pliant form on top of the marble counter. he grips at your chin with one hand, allowing the other to travel down your body to help with removing your clothes.

your shirt was the first to land on the marble floor, along with your shorts and panties, leaving you utterly bare for him. your lover grips at one of your breasts, playing with it while allowing his thumb and pointer finger to roll your hardened nipple. “i apologize, but you have been spoiling me as of late. for i refuse to cum anywhere that isn’t…” he purposely trails off, spreading your legs slowly before cupping your aching center within the palm of his hand, “here.”

your breathing hitches in response to his touch, feeling your arousal already sticking to the palm of his hand when he crashes his lips into yours. giving your breast one last pinch, sylus steadies himself against the counter while leading the tip of his cock toward your slick heat. your breathing becomes labored in response, body sweating with anticipation when you finally felt sylus slowly pushing into you.

the ache began to disappear immediately, with your cunt eagerly taking in all that sylus had to offer before eventually bottoming out. a low growl escapes from sylus when he grips at your hips before setting a rapid pace, feeling his balls hitting at your entrance as you nearly screamed in response to the intense pleasure you were feeling.

you would never get used to the sensation of his cock nestled so deeply within you. it felt as though this man was made for you alone, with you fitting him so perfectly (like a puzzle piece). while keeping you pinned against him, sylus manages to draw out even more of your hedonistic moans, succumbing to his desires immediately.

you were suddenly lifted off of the counter, with sylus holding your body like you weighed nothing to him. he bounces you up and down his cock, staining every inch of him with your arousal as the mere sight of it was enough to set him off. with a few more upward thrusts and a single hard pinch felt against your swollen clit, you came instantly-

your release felt flooding out of you in waves as you tossed your head back. you had nearly hit the wall had it not been for sylus’s gentle hand settled at the back of your head, remaining stiff and taut as he focused on your pleasure alone. the sheer intensity of your release was enough to make tears fall from your eyes, with you sobbing at how good it all felt and how you couldn’t take it anymore.

yet through it all, sylus remains by your side, giving you reassuring words and whispered praises while he coached you through your climax, “that’s it, sweetie, my sweet girl, that’s it. you’re doing so well for me…”

several minutes later, you manage to calm down, your slick walls feeling achingly sensitive now thanks to the mind-blowing orgasm sylus had just gifted you. as you came down from your high, you realized something that made your eyes go wide with both excitement and terror-

and that was the fact that sylus was still hard as a rock.

catching your wide-eyed expression, he takes a hold of your hand, giving the back of it a gentle kiss while flashing you a wolfish grin. “i hope you don’t mind… entertaining me for a bit longer, sweetie, since i have yet to cum…”

with sylus now pressing you against the wall, you were given little choice but to cling to him, wrapping both your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he drew his cock out of you before slamming it back in, the sensation nearly causing your eyes to roll back within your head as your toes curled.

end notes: brain go brrrr each time eyes see sylus’s naked body 🤤

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#sylus x reader #sylus qin x reader #sylus smut #sylus x y/n #sylus x you #love and deepspace #lads smut #lnds smut #l&ds smut #love and deepspace sylus #qin che smut #qin che x reader #lnds x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #writings 📖

502 notes · View notes

hearts4sturn · 3 months ago

Text

BABY FEVER – MATT STURNIOLO

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader synopsis: babysitting your three year old niece with your boyfriend is not for the weak warnings: lowercase intended, use of y/n, mentions of having a child ???, fluff!!

“auntie y/n!” ruby’s voice rang out across the yard, the little girl’s excitement practically vibrating through the air as she came running toward y/n. her tiny feet barely kept up with her eagerness, and she almost tripped over them in her rush. but before y/n could even fully step inside, ruby was already in her arms, wrapping herself around y/n’s legs in a tight, exuberant hug.

“well, hey there, rubs!” y/n laughed, grinning as she bent down to scoop ruby up into her arms, easily lifting the toddler into the air. “how’s my favorite niece doing today?” she asked, her voice soft with affection.

ruby beamed up at her aunt, holding y/n’s face in her small hands, her fingers gently pressing into y/n’s cheeks as she looked up, her eyes wide and sparkling with pride. “mommy let me have stra-bees today!” she said, her little mouth stretching into a huge, toothy grin.

“oh really? strawberries, huh? that sounds yummy!” y/n replied with a teasing smile, her heart warming at ruby’s excitement.

“i got lots and lots of stra-bees!” ruby said, her words tumbling out in a rush as her enthusiasm made her talk faster than usual. but her smile said it all, clear and bright.

“lucky you,” y/n said, brushing a lock of ruby’s hair from her forehead, her fingers lingering on the toddler’s soft skin. “you’re going to be all bouncy with all that sugar!” she teased, her eyes dancing with amusement.

ruby nodded vigorously, her eyes wide with the thrill of her treat. “yeah! i got so many, auntie!” she exclaimed, her little hands still holding onto y/n’s face as if to make sure she heard every word.

just as y/n was about to respond, a voice from behind them broke in, teasing but full of warmth. “hey! there’s no hello for me?” matt’s voice rang out, and y/n turned, laughing as she saw him standing there with his arms crossed in playful mock offense.

ruby’s face immediately lit up at the sound of his voice. she kicked her legs in the air, her little hands reaching for y/n’s shirt as if she couldn’t contain her joy any longer.

“uncle matt!” she squealed, her face lighting up like the sun. she wiggled in y/n’s arms, signaling that she was ready to be handed over to him.

y/n chuckled, lowering ruby gently to the floor. the moment her feet touched the ground, the toddler took off running toward matt, her small feet barely touching the ground as she practically flew toward him.

“hey, rubs,” matt greeted her with a grin, crouching down to scoop her up into his arms. ruby’s delighted giggles filled the room as she clung to him, her tiny hands grabbing at his shoulders with all the energy she could muster.

y/n smiled at the sight of them, her heart swelling with affection. there was something so simple and pure about the way they interacted, so effortless and full of love. watching them together made y/n's heart ache in the best way, and she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment.

just then, y/n turned to her sister-in-law, who was hurriedly gathering her things as she prepared to head out. “thank you so much for agreeing to look after her,” she said with a sincere smile. “i’m really sorry it’s so last minute—my work called me in unexpectedly and our babysitter was already busy and—”

y/n cut her off with a gentle smile and a wave of her hand. “it’s okay, really. i understand.

“thank you again, both of you. i just have to rush out now, but seriously, i really appreciate it.”

y/n smiled and gently placed her hand over her sister-in-law’s, reassuring her. “hey, it’s no problem. sometimes life just throws things at us, but matt and i are always happy to look after our favorite niece. you don’t need to apologize.”

her sister-in-law sighed in relief, visibly relaxing now that her mind was at ease. “thank you again, from the bottom of my heart. and ruby…” she turned to her daughter with a smile, crouching to her level. “you remember what i said, right? behave yourself, okay? don’t make things too hard on auntie y/n and uncle matt.”

“yes, mommy! see you later!” ruby chirped happily, her voice a little squeakier with excitement. she waved enthusiastically as her mother made her way out the door, her small body practically jumping with joy.

y/n crouched down to ruby’s level, giving her a gentle smile as she brushed a stray strand of hair behind the toddler’s ear. “alright, sweetheart…” y/n began, her voice soft and coaxing. “how about we go to the park now? sound good?”

“yes!!” ruby’s face lit up like a Christmas tree at the suggestion, and before y/n could say another word, she grabbed her aunt’s hand, tugging her toward the door with all the energy she had.

“hey, hey, rubs, slow down a little, okay?” matt called from behind them, his voice warm with amusement. “we’re not in a hurry. no need to rush.”

ruby paused for a split second, glancing up at matt with a sudden serious expression. then, without missing a beat, she broke into a giggle, her tiny shoulders shaking with laughter. “okay, uncle matt!” she said in her sing-song voice, still holding tightly to y/n’s hand as they made their way toward the door.

“okay, go put on your shoes, and let’s get going!” y/n called to ruby, who immediately dashed over to her shoe rack. she excitedly picked out her favorite pair of pink light-up sneakers, practically bouncing as she put them on.

“let’s go, auntie!” ruby exclaimed, her words tumbling out in her usual burst of excitement. she was already back at y/n’s side, her hand once again grabbing y/n’s as she tugged her toward the door. matt followed closely behind, his steps light and easy as he kept pace with the two girls.

once they arrived at the park, ruby didn’t waste a single second. she immediately let go of y/n’s hand and ran straight for the swing set, her little legs carrying her as fast as they could go. “uncle matt! push me, please!” she called back over her shoulder, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“alright, rubs, i’ve got you,” matt said with a chuckle, walking over to the swings with a grin. he was already getting ready to push her when y/n stepped back, watching from the sidelines, content to simply enjoy the moment.

y/n leaned against a nearby bench, her heart swelling with warmth as she watched matt gently push ruby on the swing. ruby’s delighted giggles filled the air, her hands gripping the chains as she soared higher into the sky. matt’s face was lit up with joy as he pushed her, and for a brief moment, y/n’s heart ached in the best way. she had always dreamed of being a mom, and watching matt with ruby was a constant reminder of how natural and beautiful he was with kids. sometimes, it made her wonder what it would be like to have a daughter of their own.

“auntie y/n!” ruby’s voice snapped y/n out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see the little girl waving at her from the swing. “come here, auntie y/n!”

y/n smiled warmly and walked over, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “yes, sweetie?”

“get on the swing too!” ruby said excitedly, pointing to the empty swing next to hers. “uncle matt will push both of us!”

y/n chuckled at ruby’s enthusiasm and nodded. “alright, alright, i’ll join you.” she sat down on the swing next to ruby, and as soon as she did, she felt matt give her a push. but it wasn’t just any push—it was a little too much.

“matt–!” y/n yelped, her voice a mixture of surprise and mock indignation. “too high!”

matt laughed along with ruby, clearly enjoying her reaction. ruby giggled uncontrollably, her small hands gripping the swing’s chains as she kicked her feet in the air.

“auntie y/n, you’re so funny!” ruby laughed, her bright eyes sparkling with amusement. “okay, uncle matt, i want off now! let’s go to the next thing!” she said, pointing excitedly to the rest of the playground.

“alright, rubs,” matt said, laughing as he helped y/n down. the trio made their way toward the slides, with ruby already running ahead, eager to explore the next adventure.

when they returned home later that afternoon, ruby was practically bursting with energy, eager to tell her mom about everything. “mommy!” she shouted as she burst through the door, still riding high on the excitement of the day. “mommy, i had so much fun!”

y/n’s sister-in-law, who had been waiting by the door, crouched down to scoop her daughter up into her arms. “hey, sweetie. how was your day with auntie y/n and uncle matt?” she asked, her smile warm as she hugged ruby tight.

“was so fun! we went to the park, and uncle matt pushed me on the swings, and auntie y/n too!” ruby said excitedly, her words coming out in a happy rush.

“oh really now? sounds like you had a blast. now, how about you take off your shoes and wash your hands, okay? mommy’s going to chat with auntie y/n and uncle matt for a minute,” her mom suggested, giving ruby a gentle kiss on the cheek before letting her go.

ruby nodded eagerly and scampered off to do as instructed, her little feet pattering across the floor as she removed her sneakers and headed toward the bathroom.

once ruby was out of earshot, y/n’s sister-in-law turned to the couple with a grateful smile. “thank you so much for looking after her again,” she said, her voice sincere. “i really appreciate it.”

y/n waved it off with a smile. “hey, you don’t have to thank us all the time. we’re family. we’d be happy to look after her any time,” she reassured her, her voice warm and comforting.

her sister-in-law smiled back, her eyes filled with gratitude. “thank you,” she repeated, a soft laugh escaping her as she made her way toward the door. “i’ll see you both soon.”

“take care!” y/n and matt called in unison, waving her goodbye. as the door clicked shut, the two of them shared a quiet smile, content with the simple joys of the day.

after a peaceful moment, they both climbed into matt’s van, letting out a simultaneous sigh as they settled into the comfortable silence. the weight of the afternoon's activities had finally caught up with them, and the car felt cozy and familiar.

“do you have it too?” y/n asked, her voice soft as she turned to glance at matt. there was a slight catch in her breath, a tender look in her eyes as she searched his face for an answer.

“baby fever?” matt said with a knowing smile, his eyes softening as he looked at her. “yeah, i’ve got it. bad.”

y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping as she stared out the window. her fingers absentmindedly played with the hem of her shirt, a little frown tugging at her lips. “we’re too young though. i know we are... but she’s just so cute.”

matt chuckled softly, his gaze warm as he met her eyes. “i know, baby. i want one too. believe me. but we should give it a few more years. we’re not exactly in the right place yet.”

“but matttt,” she whined, her voice taking on a playful tone. “she’s so tiny and perfect. i just wanna take her home and keep her forever.”

matt smiled at her, his thumb gently brushing over her hand as he reached out to take it. “i know, babe. i get it. i really do. but we’ve got time. a lot of time. no need to rush into it. we’ll get there, i promise. just a few more years, okay?”

y/n let out another sigh, this one a little heavier, but she nodded, knowing deep down that he was right. “just a few more years, huh?” she repeated quietly, as though trying to convince herself.

“yeah, just a few,” matt confirmed softly, his voice soothing as he leaned over to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. his lips lingered there for a moment, his eyes closing in contentment. “we’ll be great when the time comes, i know it.”

y/n rested her head against the seat, closing her eyes for a moment. the idea of waiting was hard, but she trusted matt. they had their whole future ahead of them. “okay,” she whispered, finally relaxing into the comfort of the moment. “just a few more years.”

wc: 2.2k

author's note: hai please tell me this isn't cringe ty

dividers: @cafekitsune

taglist: @courta13

636 notes · View notes

futurewdclandonorris · 1 year ago

Text

Lipstick Stamps | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Warnings: none, just pure fluff

“Ready soon, love?” Lando peeked his head in your shared bedroom.

You glanced up from your vanity table and smiled at him. “Almost there, I just need a few more minutes. Could you help me zip up my dress, though?”

You turned around, the ocean blue fabric flowing against your skin as Lando made his way towards you. His strong hands gently pulled the zipper up, the sound echoing through the room.

He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You look stunning, as always.” and kissed the back of your neck.

You blushed at his words and turned to face him. “Thank you. I just need to apply my lipstick and then we can get going.”

Lando watched in awe as you carefully applied the ruby red lipstick, a color that went along with your dress perfectly. His heart swelled with pride, knowing he was the luckiest man alive to have you by his side. As you capped the lipstick and set it down, you caught his soft gaze in the mirror that made your heart flutter.

“Shall we?” Lando offered his arm to you with a charming smile.

“Wait, I need to blot the excess off first,”

“Want me to get you a tissue?” he asked, his hand already reaching for the box.

“No, come here,” you replied, reaching out to cradle his face in your hands. Lando’s eyes slightly widened in surprise when you leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to his right cheek, leaving a perfect imprint of red. He stilled for a moment, his heart pounding as he savored the sweet touch of your lips on his skin.

You pulled back, looked into his eyes and leaned back in to do the same to his left cheek. He closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh, feeling a rush of love for you surge through his veins. But you weren’t done yet. You planted a kiss on his temple, making your way to his forehead and stamping it all over with quick little kisses, each one a promise of love and affection.

Your lips descended to the right side of his face and peppered all over, until there was no spot left unkissed. Lando burst into giggles, his face growing even more pink than your blush, and squirmed between your hands, making it a bit hard to continue your rain of kisses on him.

But you persisted, marking his chin, his jaw, and finally finished with a boop on his nose, your laughter mingling with his until you both were breathless from the joy of the moment. You let go of his face and took a step back to admire your work and the beautiful man standing before you covered in your lipstick kisses, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with adoration.

Lando couldn't help but break into a wide grin, his heart bursting with love for you. He was completely captivated by your playful affection and the way you showered him with kisses, each one a testament to the deep connection you shared.

"There,” you said, snaking your arms around his neck, satisfied. “Now we can go.”

“You forgot the most important one,” before you could react, he wrapped his arms around your waist and captured your lips in a savoring kiss that spoke volumes. You melted into each other’s embrace, forgetting about the world and everything else until only the two of you existed.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your hearts beating as one. Lando rested his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips. “Now we can go,” he whispered, his voice filled with warmth. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“And you love it,” you teased, leaning into his touch. “Now, let’s not keep our dinner reservation waiting.”

Hand in hand, you both made your way out of the bedroom and into the night, where the stars above seemed to twinkle just a little bit brighter as if they were celebrating the love that radiated between you and Lando.

2K notes · View notes

yandere-romanticaa · 9 months ago

Text

Been thinking about vampires today, take this crumb, it's pointless but fun to write. Divider belongs to @issysh3ll.

Long fingers comb their way through your hair as he looks down at you, pure fondness shining brightly in his ruby red gaze as he holds you still, worried that you'll do something stupid such as trying to flee.

Not that you could, no matter how hard you may try.

His grip is stronger than any iron ever forged and his arms serve as the shackles around your trembling wrists, securing you in your rightful place right beside him. You meet his gaze head-on, trying to fool both yourself and him into believing that you were an individual with courage, that you were the type of person who could challenge their fears with a cool mind and blazing heart.

Such an illusion was shattered like a mirror the instant you looked into his eyes, those monstrous eyes.

Powerful. Deceitful. Inhuman. Ravenous.

You could do nothing but to whimper like a tiny, helpless babe, snatched away from the safety of its crib. The motivation of the vampire which took you was still horribly unclear. However, the time to think would soon stop once you manage to notice the sharp fangs protrude from his lips. Much like lightning, he sharply bit into your neck, moaning at the skin to skin contact as he kissed, bit and fed.

He was saying something to you, his voice was husky and pleased but it was so hard to focus... Feeling the blood being drained from your body bit by bit was so tiring, one could not help but fall into a deep slumber. Against your better judgment - and frail body giving in - you felt your eyes flutter themselves closed, the sweet bliss of sleep threatening to take hold of you. Just as you felt the world fading to black, you felt him wrap his arms around you, bringing you impossibly close to his chest.

He held you close and tight, as if you were a secret which could be swept away from the wind. Even with the lack of a beating heart, he felt his soul soar with ferocious obsession, the madness taking over fully.

He was never going to let you go. Never.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #vampires #vampire #vampire x reader #vampire x human #yandere vampire #vampire aesthetic #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x you #halloween

669 notes · View notes

pinkberrytea · 8 months ago

Text

He is the king, you are his crown; he is the tree, you are its blooms.

Requiem—A ceremony for the dead. The Vampire Ascendant once made her his bride; now he weds her before the gods. Eternal rest grant unto them, and let perpetual light shine upon them. Amen.

The pleasure of your company is requested at the marriage of Lord Astarion Ancunín to his darling consort, Lady Ancunín. Reception to follow.

Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav (F!Reader)

w/c: 7k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers

a/n: thank you for reading! this one was inspired by information released by ed greenwood about wedding rites in the forgotten realms. i thought the blood pact in particular would fit aa and consort perfectly! hopefully it is an enjoyable read. i’d like to thank @bardic-inspo and @starryjuicebox for their support and help with this piece. i appreciate you lovelies!

( part 1 here ) ( part 2 here )

tags: blood drinking; cunnilingus; orgasm edging; overstimulation; fluff & smut; body worship; light dom/sub; vaginal fingering; creampie; dry humping; frottage; multiple orgasms; possessive behavior; mirror sex; wedding night; piv sex

“Art desirous of union with the man who comes for thee?”

As the Galerian priestess’ words reverberate around the otherwise solemnly quiet venue, you are escorted to the snow-covered aisle by your dapperly dressed handmaidens, clad in beautiful scarlet silks with gemstones sown on the sleeves, and all eyes present turn to gaze upon your quivering form—yet none are more piercing than the pair of crimson irises taking in your image from their place by the altar, ruby red flecks swimming in pools of blood whose glistening surface is now disturbed by the waves of emotion breaking on their sanguine shores. Astarion had not been prepared for this; for how his heart would beat faster, how his stomach would twist and turn at the sight of you in your wedding gown, holding the bouquet of dahlias and asphodels he’d endeavored to choose for you himself close to your chest, pale cheeks glowing a faint pink and snowflakes falling leisurely on the veil covering your hair. Suddenly, the shallow reasons for why he had even come up with the idea of hosting the ceremony are all but forgotten, and his frenzied thoughts reduced to a single word: perfect. You look perfect. A vision in white, a bloodied rose, his darling consort, his sinful bride.

His eternal lover.

The moment you start walking towards him, the attendees all rise from their seats and the processional begins, your timid gait almost in rhythm with each pluck of the harp’s strings. He looks hauntingly beautiful in his elegant white doublet, intrinsically embellished with golden and carmine embroidery, silver curls pristinely arranged and marble skin shining ethereally, reflecting the gentle light of the winter moon. The fresh wound on his hand stands in stark contrast against the otherwise smooth blancheness of his palm, blood trickling down onto the soft snow below, and the enticing scent of it wafts through the air almost like an invitation, a temptation too great for your starved self, as all the endless preparations have left you no time to quench the everlasting thirst he bequeathed to you. How long has it been since you last fed? Days? Weeks? Try as you might, you cannot remember. Yet it matters so little now, as he waits for you with almost jovial expectation, ready to once again seal your undying bond, renew the vows made on the fateful eve of your turning.

“Seven thousand souls have given me the power to carve out my own future, and I want you to be part of it.”

The more you approach him, the thicker the air around him becomes, the louder the buzzing in his ears sounds. Your lashes look so long, your rouged lips so full—and gods, how sweetly you gaze upon him, how bashfully, naught behind the bright gleam in your lachrymose eyes but pure, unconditional adoration. Through all the pain, all the hurt, your devotion to him never once faltered, and though the perpetual guilt haunts you both still, it is not in spite of your shared burden that you are brought closer together, but because of it. As you finally make your way to the altar and take your place by his side, time seems to come to a standstill, and in the minutes that follow, you can see nothing but his face, smell nothing but his blood, hear nothing but his heartbeat. No one else matters, nothing else matters—just you, him, and your immortal love.

“My sole endeavor now is to make this world yours and mine alone.”

The priestess takes your hand in hers, and using an ornamental dagger, cuts a gash across its surface, as she did with Astarion’s before your arrival—yet unlike his, the blood takes a while to bloom from the broken skin, so little of it remaining within your veins. You bite down on your bottom lip to stifle a yelp, her treatment of you clearly rougher than would be otherwise necessary; the eldest heiress of an influential patriar, her father had sponsored the construction of the first Galerian temple of Baldur’s Gate, a venture Astarion had enthusiastically supported to gain his favor, and with it, access to the growing following of the God of Ambition. A young acolyte at the time, her infatuation for your darling was undeniable—it was almost wicked then when he arranged for her to be the one to wed you, a political ploy to cement the bond between the two families. You knew his motives, and his cruelty brought you no joy, yet his darkness was something you had long decided to embrace rather than deny, the weight of your choices a penance you’d not ever dare renounce.

Once the deed is done, she lets go of you and backs away, a hint of contempt muddying her lowered gaze. Neither of you pay it heed—rather, you remain focused on each other, the guests but faceless figures looming in the background, blurred and meaningless. He holds his hand up, eyes locked with yours all the while, pupils blown out and raw emotion blazing like a firestorm in their depths. You do the same, your movements small and uncertain, yet as the tips of your fingers touch, he is the one to close the distance between your bloodstained palms, wound against wound, your crimson flowing into his and his flowing into yours. The connection assails you with almost overwhelming fierceness, your minds blended together and a thread of blood binding your souls to one another, as if you were but a single being. You can feel his heart pounding in your chest, his red coursing through your body, his thoughts seeping inside your head and reassuring you of that which needs not be professed; he loves you, oh, how dearly he loves you, like the moon loves the stars, like the dusk loves the dawn. Yours is the light keeping him from being consumed by the shadows, a flickering flame he is willing to protect, no matter the cost.

“I ask for thy hand as my equal, that our lives run as one, from this day forth,” he says, voice soft like velvet, laced with undeniable warmth despite its measured cadence. You may not truly be his equal, not really, but that is a fact you were always willing to accept. He is the king, you are his crown; he is the tree, you are its blooms. You could not hope to compare to his greatness, he could not hope to live up to yours—yet even if those around you may not understand, even if they may challenge it, your love is no less real, no less precious.

“I accept, before the gods, and before all these good people,” you answer, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as the words slip from your trembling lips. His feelings become entangled with your own while the blood link lasts, and hidden beneath the yearning, beneath the sheer intensity of his longing for you, you sense anguish, you sense remorse. How many times have you danced to this same tune, played this same game? What a hopeless fool he is—manipulating your affections and toying with them, only to then realize the upper hand was hardly his, not in that pretty clearing during your first night together, not now, as you stand before him so beautifully, so earnestly, laying bare your heart and handing it to him on a silver platter. Your unwavering trust in him is something he was never quite able to come to terms with—why? Why is it that you want him, even after everything? Why give yourself to a selfish villain such as he while asking for nothing in return, nothing but for him to love you back? He knows not the answer to this, but still he would take it; your body, your mind, your soul, he would take it all and make them his, and his alone.

“I shall protect thee and succor thee, until my breath fails and the gods claim me, putting thy needs and comfort before mine own, and keeping no secret from thee, until the end of my days, or until the gods set us apart, though I hereby pray they shall never do so.” The gods have no say in this—you are forever his, and he is forever yours. Astarion is your god, and he shall be the one to claim you; such is the fate you have chosen for yourself. Once he finishes voicing the pledge, your hands come apart and the connection is severed, leaving you empty and vulnerable. Still, you carry on with the rites, bringing your bloodied fingers to his parted lips, and his to yours, staining them with your combined essence; while mimicking your movements, he purposefully refuses to pry his eyes from yours, looking upon you and through you, so fiercely yet so gently, so ardently yet so lovingly. You lose yourself in the urgency of his gaze, giving into its passionate allure, feeling your body lean forward almost as if you were but a flesh puppet, and him the performer pulling your strings.

“You’ve never tasted so sweet, darling.”

He lowers his head to meet you halfway, and the instant your mouth crashes into his, all your thoughts crumble down and dissolve into nothing. The coppery taste of your crimson mixed with his spreads through your tongue, reaching the back of your throat, and the pain of hunger tugs violently at your stomach; yet even in death, as he breathes into you, you feel alive, through him, for him, enraptured by the softness of his lips and the warmth of his skin, protected from the bloodlust, from its all-consuming fury. He cups your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls your face even closer to his, almost as if trying to assimilate you, become one with you, to which you respond just as desperately, standing on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck. The tears that had been threatening to fall spill from your closed eyes, the surge of emotions bursting your frozen heart open; he dries them with his thumbs, delicately tucking the few hair strands that have slipped from underneath your headdress behind your ear. Blood is his ink, and with it, he shall again carve his name on your soul and claim that which belongs to him—requiem aeternam dona eis, so that tomorrow, you may rise anew.

“We have a beautiful, bloody future to look forward to, my love.”

It’s useless. No matter for how long or how hard you peer into the grand cheval mirror standing before you, it refuses to show you your reflection. Rather, all you see is an empty room, illuminated by naught but the moonshine creeping in from the open balcony, its velvet drapers swaying with the evening breeze. The snowfall has ceased, but the air remains mercilessly gelid; with your veins painfully wanting for blood to keep them warm, you wrap your arms around yourself, which unsurprisingly brings you no comfort. The guests are all gone, the ceremony is over—now you are left alone with the wandering voices echoing in the recesses of your mind, which grow ever so loud as the aftermath dawns upon you and dissipates the dreamy fog that had been cast over your still veiled head up until this very moment.

Alone—yet not for long.

“Stunning.” You hear his voice before you see him approach you from behind, elegant fingers brushing against your bare shoulders and squeezing them gently, the soothing heat emanating from his hands sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. “You look stunning, darling,” Astarion whispers in your ear, his pretty lips grazing the ruby-carved earring hanging off it, which in turn dangles ever so softly, catching the moon beams on its shiny surface; breathing hot air onto your sensitive flesh, he then slides them down your neck and plants a loving kiss at its base, half-lidded eyes staring back at his own lonesome figure on the other side of the glass.

“Do I?” you ask, the hint of disdain in your tone taking even you by surprise. He, however, seems unphased; on the contrary, his handsome face creases into a subtle, cheeky smile, and his hands glide down your arms to then join them around your waist, his chiseled chest pressed flat against your back. As if under a spell, you promptly let down your walls and lean into his embrace, closing your eyes and cocking your head to the side to grant him better access. His smile widens in response, and he kisses your neck again, letting his fangs ghost over the set of bite marks disrupting your otherwise immaculate skin for a moment before pulling back slightly and resting his chin on that same spot.

“Why, shall I be your mirror, my sweet?” Astarion purrs, the silky smoothness of his voice covering your now limp body in goosebumps. “Would that please you? Knowing what the world sees when it looks at you.” He articulates each word with a guttural growl, scarlet irises darkening as his grip on you tightens, yet swirling in their murky depths, you glimpse ruddy hues of worship and desire, fondness and hunger; while it may sound like he is being unserious or trying to egg you on, there is sincerity underlying his offer, an honest wish to make good on it. “What I see.”

No sooner than the question leaves his lips, he spins you around and presses one of his hands to the small of your back, the other brushing your veil away from your face and caressing your cold cheek—once you lock eyes with him, his cheerfulness vanishes and he gazes upon your graceful figure in pensive silence, scanning every inch of your frame, from the opulent headpiece around your forehead to the sequined pumps hugging your tired feet. After what seems like an eternity, he brings his hand on your cheek down to clasp one of your own, fingers intertwined with yours; lifting it up gently, he then gives it a tender kiss, an impish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“May I have this dance, dearest?” As he waits for your answer, it occurs to you that the chance to waltz with him never really presented itself, noblemen and underground overlords alike having kept him plenty busy throughout the night. You nod timidly, and immediately he takes the lead, stepping to the side and bringing you with him. You tumble awkwardly as if about to fall, but his palm splayed across your back holds you firmly, and instead you lean onto his torso, resting your head right above his heart. The instant you do, its loud pounding reverberates against your ear, lulling you, cradling you, and your tangled bodies sway gently to its soothing rhythm. In the mirror, the image reflected is that of a groom dancing with his ghost bride; no music, no ballroom, no elegant footwork, and yet the intensity of his lovestruck stare paints such a vivid picture that one might see shadows of your presence reflected in his eyes.

“Let’s see then—a slender neck, deliciously bare as if inviting me to feast on it, thanks to that lovely hairdo of yours,” Astarion suddenly says, voice quiet but hoarse, tinged with undeniable specks of lust. He guides your hand to his own waist and lets go of it, only to then slide his newly freed digits along the curve of your throat, carefully tracing the bite marks with their soft pads. “Though I must say, beautiful as your gown may be, I would very much like to undo that pesky knot keeping some of it concealed. May I, darling?” he asks, fingers quickly moving to the satin ribbon holding your bodice in place, wrapped fast around your neckline and flowing down your naked back. You nod again, cheek still pressed to his chest, and with a smug simper, he expertly unlaces it with unparalleled adroitness, letting the pure white fabric slip down your now completely nude bosom. You shudder and snuggle closer to him, in response to which he affectionately folds an arm over your shoulder and buries his fingers in your hair, partially unweaving the elaborate braids that had been tugging at your scalp all day, only those held by the crystal flower barrettes on your temples remaining.

“Flawless, supple skin, which flushes so handsomely with my essence blooming under it,” he continues, digits sinking deeper into your ribs before he twirls you around, dipping forward as if going in for a kiss, though instead, he reaches for the hemline of your dress, hiking it up your long legs and in so doing, exposing the sinuous contours of your hips and thighs. Almost absentmindedly, the wandering fingers knead their way to the plushness of your round behind, still hidden beneath your underpants; giving it a firm squeeze, he then brings his other hand down from your head to unbutton the tulle corset attached to your petticoat, and just like that, the sumptuous wedding gown falls to your feet, leaving you covered in nothing but your veil and smallclothes.

“Bright crimson eyes that always stare so very coyly, so very docilely.” With a provocative growl, Astarion pulls you taut against him, and once your navel clashes with his crotch, the obvious erection forming under his pants becomes nested right between your bodies. Holding onto your waist with both of his hands, he then presses his mouth to an artery pulsating slightly above your collarbone, letting his warm tongue graze it teasingly as he speaks. “And oh, those precious little fangs, peeking from under lips most luscious… shall we put them to good use, pretty vampling?” he asks, pitch lowering dangerously, and his meaning is made instantly clear—positioned as he is, his own neck is conveniently exposed to you, too tantalizing an offer to ever be refused, so you accept it graciously, biting down on his ivory flesh just as he bites down on yours. The piercing pain of his teeth puncturing your skin is entirely numbed as the thick blood cascades down your throat, and you lose yourself in the bliss of life being returned to your undead veins, gripping both of his arms in an almost delirious haze; while drinking from each other, you rock back and forth, dancing still, a dark waltz under the fading stars.

“I can’t wait to taste your lips after you’ve tasted me.”

Never unlatching from your bruising artery, Astarion wraps his arms around your rear and picks you up, taking you with him to the canopy bed on the other side of the room. Upon reaching it, he sits down on the edge of the mattress, you in his lap, knees bent on each side of him. He takes a few more swigs of your crimson before pulling away, though you remain feeding—while letting you drink, he carefully removes your headdress and veil, laying them aside to then cradle the back of your scalp with one of his hands and gently run his fingers down your spine with the other. You both moan and groan quietly in each other’s ears, and you can feel him leisurely grinding his hardness against your core; due to the friction, slick starts building between your now puffed-up folds, most of his red going straight to your aching sex rather than swimming around in your stomach.

“That’s enough, pet,” he coos after some time, lightly tapping your shoulder, and you reluctantly obey, prying yourself off him with a needy whimper. He smirks and plants a kiss on your forehead, sliding his hands under your thighs to lift you up slightly and rotate your body so that your back is turned to his chest. Once your buttocks are pushed flush against the swell between his legs, you help him peel off your soaked underpants—pressing his knees to the back of yours, he then spreads you both wide, exposing your pretty cunt to the chilly winter air. You mewl pathetically, casting down your gaze in shame and hiding behind your palms; with an amused snicker, he grabs your wrists and lowers them, holding both together with one hand and using the other to grasp your chin. “Look, darling,” he whispers, tilting up your jaw and brushing his fangs against your earlobe, “see how exquisite you are.”

Raising your head almost hesitantly, you do as told, and it takes you a moment to register what now fills your field of vision: the mirror, albeit more distant, is angled perfectly to reflect your naked form, no longer a ghostly apparition, but flesh and bone, your image returned to you thanks to Astarion’s ascended essence sizzling within your veins. Still holding your wrists, he slides the hand on your chin down your neck, gliding it across the hollows of your sternum and then up the soft curve of your breasts, where he stops to pinch a pebbling nipple, earning a high-pitched yelp from you; looking straight into your eyes through the glass, he lovingly kisses the back of your shoulder and smiles against your skin, obviously pleased with himself. After playing with the puckered nub for a moment, his fingers continue descending, through your navel and crotch—finally reaching their intended destination, they circle the twitching bundle of nerves crowning your mound, and you arch your back in turn, shock waves shooting up your limbs.

“Asta—ah!” you moan, rolling your hips into his hand, but he immobilizes you by tensioning his arm muscles, without ever stopping stroking the engorged knot. You whine impatiently, the tautness in your lower belly growing more agonizing by the second; Astarion, however, is clearly in no rush, his movements mercilessly languid. Pressing down on your clit with a deft digit, he buries two others in the sticky warmth of your folds, parting them gently and hungrily gazing upon your wetness, or rather, its reflection—in the mirror, your slickened entrance glistens wantonly, a honied flower waiting to be pollinated, given a healthy flush by the heat of his crimson. One finger rims it tentatively, coating itself in your juices; with no prior warning, he then plunges it in you up to the knuckle, venturing within the tightness of your walls. You try to stifle a shriek, in vain—emboldened by this, he plunges another, watching mischievously as you writhe and squirm.

“Oh, little love, I do quite like those pretty noises you’re making, I like them very much,” he says, kissing your shoulder again and curling his fingers inside your slit, which flutters desperately in its urge to be stuffed full. Overwhelmed by the lewdness of the scene unfolding before you, not quite used to witnessing yourself in such a vulnerable position, you try turning your head to the side, only for him to quickly let go of your wrists, capturing your face in his now freed hand and pulling it back into its previous position, intent on having you be his audience as he brings about your ruin. “Tut tut, cheeky pup.” Despite clicking his tongue, Astarion’s voice carries a playful lilt, accompanied by the roguish glint in his lust-ridden irises. Bucking his hips forward, he wedges his still clothed bulge deeper within the valley of your ass, and even through the fabric, you can feel it twitching and jerking. “You will be a good girl for me, won’t you?”

You nod vigorously, hot tears of yearning prickling your eyelids and escaping through your long lashes. He dries them with his thumb, the smirk still gracing his lips, yet his gaze softens a little; moving his hand from your jaw to your chest, he then cups one of your breasts, squeezing and kneading it gently before resuming his attentions between your legs, now pumping his elegant digits in and out of your center. Feeling your body edging closer to the precipice of desire, you hold onto both of his arms, clenched abdomen covered in a glossy sheen of salty sweat and cheeks burning bright red—however, just as you are about to climax, he suddenly snatches you up and throws you on the bed, stradling you right after so that you become entrapped beneath him.

“Good girls must earn their spurs, darling,” he growls, grabbing both of your knees and pushing them apart, licking his lips at the sight of your cunt spasming madly in protest, hopelessly slickened and swollen. “So needy… have you no patience, my dear?” Smoldering you with a lascivious stare, he ignores your avid pleas and lowers his head, pressing his mouth to the plushness of one of your thighs. Ever so delicately, he kisses it and lingers for a short while, only to then unceremoniously sink his fangs into the squishy flesh, coaxing a soft cry out of you. Moving his hands to your hips, he holds you in place while voraciously sucking on the throbbing artery, some of the blood leaking and trickling down onto the silk sheets. Your arousal makes your crimson taste delectably sweet, an ambrosial aphrodisiac—with each gulp, his neglected cock jolts angrily, translucent drops of precome running down its length, so hard now that the pink tip peeks out from the hem of his pants.

“It will only hurt a bit—the pleasure will be far greater than the pain.”

“Hnng—Astarion, please…!” you beg, attempting to bring a hand to the tumid bud convulsing atop your dripping core, but Astarion seizes it with one of his own and pins it to the mattress while drinking still. Finally unlatching from your thigh, he laps at the red beads that remain oozing out of the small wounds inflicted on your skin by his teeth, following the trail down to your groin; once there, he lets his tongue wander and graze your folds, tauntingly flicking it as if by accident. You bury the fingers of your other hand in his silvery curls, half expecting him to stop you, but he doesn’t—instead, he brushes the wet appendage against your clit, swirling it around for a moment before making his way downwards, leaving a glistening string of his saliva mixed with your lifeblood in his wake. Upon arriving at your entrance, he traces its outer edges, savoring you with lengthy strokes to then delve inside at last.

“Oh, gods… hah…” No longer capable of keeping the breathy whimpers and erratic pants contained within the confines of your mouth, you throw your head back and let them fall freely from your parted lips, grabbing a fistful of his hair, though carefully so as not to pull at it. Pleased with your reaction, he rewards you by nuzzling his face against your mound, reaching as deeply within you as possible while massaging and tasting your tender walls, the bridge of his nose auspiciously pressed against the hood of your pearl. Heat starts again pooling in your stomach, your every nerve set ablaze, and it doesn’t take long before the tension snaps and you finally come undone on his tongue, creaming and clenching around it. He enthusiastically partakes of your tangy nectar, eating you up still even as you bask in the afterglow, only stopping once you let go of him. With one last lick, he propels his torso back up, drool dribbling down his chin.

“Ah, but that won’t do,” Astarion says, releasing your wrist to wipe his lips, their corners still quirked upwards into a haughty, devilish smile. “No, my sweet… I’m not nearly done with you yet.” Lowering both hands to his pants, he swiftly drags them down, freeing his erection and wrapping his fingers around its base. Your eyes are irresistibly drawn to it, and from under heavy lids you gape at the bulging veins and enlarged crown, his foreskin tautly pulled back to reveal the weeping slit. Leaning on one of your knees and slipping his free hand under the other to keep you spread open, he then guides the swollen cockhead to your fluttering folds, dipping it between them and glazing himself in your essence. With a quiet whine, you wiggle your hips, your sex still sensitive as you recover from your orgasm, but instead of backing out, he doubles down and presses the velvety tip harder against your raw knot, chuckling as your protests grow in volume and you try to slither away from him, straining your thigh muscles in an unsuccessful effort to close your legs.

“Gods, you are too cute.” Staring smugly at your flailing body while rubbing himself up and down your wetness, Astarion fastens his grip on your calf using just about enough force not to hurt you, but simply restrain your movements. “Where’s my good girl? Again. I know you can come again,” he purrs, voice deceptively gentle, although the warmth in his eyes is genuine. You shake your head, unable to muster up an intelligible sentence, your mind wiped clean of coherent thought; bending down to brush his lips against your temple, he kisses away the tears beading your lashes, affectionately pressing his forehead to yours. “You can do it. Come, my love. For me.” The whisper caresses your ears with such tenderness that as if by magic, you feel yourself relax, the pain slowly giving way to rekindled arousal. You try your best to focus on the budding sensation, reveling in the smoothness of his cockhead as it grinds against your sore clit, indulging in the intimacy of having your center of pleasure almost merged with his. Gradually, the waves of lust and hunger rippling through you gain momentum, spreading from your gut to your extremities, every inch of your skin tingling and prickling with primal yearning—taking notice of your rapid ascent to rapture, he hastily aligns his cock with your entrance, stretching its tight borders open, though not yet shafting himself inside.

“That’s it, my darling little bride. Come for your sire.” You can barely hear his words as white noise overtakes all your senses, the world around you reduced to a blurry, chaotic maelstrom. The moment he finally slides his length between your walls, filling you to the brim in a single thrust, your toes curl and your hands ball into fists, your body going limp as you are at last pushed over the edge of ecstasy. Letting go of your knee to take off his doublet, he carelessly tosses it on the floor to then gently cradle both of your cheeks, pulling you into a sensual, passionate kiss. Muffled groans form in the back of his throat with every twitch of his cock, which pulsates longingly as you vibrate and flutter around it; he nips at your bottom lip as if asking for passage, sucking on the bloody droplets drawn from the nicked flesh, and once you comply, without delay his tongue starts massaging your own, eagerly rolling over it while he patiently waits for you to adjust to his size. Wrapping both of your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, you roll your hips upwards, wanting to feel all of him, each bead of sweat, each drop of blood, until it’s impossible to tell where you end and he begins.

“Mhnf—Astarion…” you mewl into his mouth, encouraging him to start moving, his rhythm slow and gentle at first. Despite how wet you are, he works your slit open with a bit of difficulty, his girth abnormally enlarged due to the drawn-out neglect, although even through the discomfort you find yourself relishing the chance to have him so snugly nested within you. Astarion, too, seems to be thoroughly enjoying having you gripping him so deliciously tautly, his usually husky grunts growing louder with every push. His hands leave your face to roam the sides of your body, gliding down your ribs, tracing the curve of your waist and slipping underneath you to grope and fondle your ass, slightly tilting you upwards so he can sink deeper within your cunt. Finally breaking the kiss, lips bruised and plumped, he lovingly gazes upon your just as disheveled self for a moment before leaning back down to give you a chaste, tender peck; pulling away again, he then lowers his head to have his tongue ghost over the skin of your throat, your clavicle, and then up the swell of one of your breasts, stopping to hover above its reddened peak.

“Say it, pet. Tell me who you belong to.” His breath tickles the sensitive nub as he speaks, voice dripping with honey and eyes searching for yours from under thick lashes, darkened with desire. To anyone else the question may sound like just another racy quip, provocative banter to spice up the mood, but you know better—you know him better. Following the Black Mass, on that very eve Astarion would first test his unholy gifts as the Ascendant, not by calling upon the dark forces now at his mercy nor by turning into mist, but by making you his for all eternity. That was always the plan—to become your warden, your guardian, your sire and master. Never before you had he ever felt as wanted, as needed, and he cherished that power; for once in his life he was the protector, not the protectee, not the weak vermin wriggling about to find shelter. You gave him a reason to be, a reason to live, and he would not lose that, not for as long as his thawed heart beats.

“I’m yours, Astarion. All yours,” you say, giving him the reassurance he seeks while at the same time soothing yourself. Yes, you are his, entirely his, and that is of solace to you as much as it is to him. Satisfied with your answer, Astarion smiles softly; refusing to avert his gaze from your face, he then wraps his perfectly-shaped lips around your nipple, circling it with a pointed tongue. His teeth graze the supple surrounding flesh for a moment before unexpectedly sinking into it, and your mouth pops open to let out a soundless gasp in surprise. You propel your torso up slightly by resting your arms on each side of your body and leaning on your bent elbows, firmly gripping the sheets beneath you with both of your hands, panting and whining as he suddenly speeds up the pace, undulating his hips more energetically with every thrust. Through his cock and fangs alike, his presence inside of you is absolute, imperious, overwhelming—yet also comforting and fulfilling, like a crushing, constricting embrace.

“You complete me.”

“Mnhg—ah!” While still latched onto your breast, avidly drinking from it, Astarion moves one hand to your lower back so he may gently raise you with him into a seated position, and you let go of the sheets to hold onto his broad shoulders for support. His other hand continues fondling your ass, fingers widely splayed across one of your cheeks, applying just enough pressure to push your crotch flat against his, securely settling you in his lap as you had been before, except you are now both facing each other. Prying himself off you, he then pulls back to admire his handiwork—the blood seeping from the freshly made puncture marks on your chest trails lazily down your abdomen, the bright crimson accentuated so beautifully by your pale skin, a perfect match with the rubies encrusted in the jewelry that you remain wearing despite being otherwise completely nude. You make for a breathtaking vision, one belonging perpetually and irrevocably to him.

“My darling,” Astarion croons, voice uncharacteristically tender, bringing his hand on your back up to lovingly cup your chin. “My pretty darling,” he whispers before capturing your lips with his bloodstained ones, hips snapping upwards to resume massaging your walls. You bob your body in rhythm with his thrusts, buttocks slapping against his thighs every time you sink down to the base of his length, and his fingers dig deeper into the soft swell of your rear, surely to leave bruises in the morning. Eyes fluttering close, you lean fully against him, the contours of your frame hugging his own almost perfectly, save for your breasts, which are now squished between your rib cage and his pectorals. Releasing your face, he instead grabs your throat, his grip strong, but not binding; giving it a gentle squeeze, he then pulls away, tongue absentmindedly lapping at the strand of saliva connecting you still even as your mouths unweave.

“Astarion…” The way you utter his name sounds almost like a plea, a supplication, yet you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. “I love you”—is what you mean to say, but you bite back the words instead. They are empty, meaningless; the depth of your bond is such that “love” is a sentiment which needs not be voiced. You know he can feel it, for you can feel it too—way past just affection, the pure devotion carved on the core of your very being, so raw and so visceral that it may as well be an open wound, never to heal, bleeding thick, warm emotion. As tempting as it may be to proclaim it, the world is not owed any measure of access to your relationship; this is something meant just for the two of you, a silent understanding between an eternal bride and her husband-to-be, sacred and precious. Thus, rather than speaking any further, you look into his eyes with as much earnestness as you can possibly manage, and he looks back at you just as intensely, pupils so dilated that his irises are but thin red discs, barely even visible. He knows; of course he does. He always did.

“Shh. Hush.” He lets go of your throat before softly pressing a finger to your lips, only to then comb all five digits of that same hand through your hair and cradle your head, gently nudging you forward. Following his lead, you rest your chin in the crook of his neck, flushed cheek brushing against his; upon raising your gaze, you notice that you can see the mirror behind him, reflecting his strong back and shapely waist, still encircled by your entangled legs. More than that, you can see him moving—his hips going up and down every time he disappears inside you, balls swinging whenever he lifts up his ass from the mattress. Watching him fuck you might as well be the most erotic thing you have ever laid eyes on, and for a third time arousal coils low in your belly.

“Oh… Astarion…” you whimper in his ear, feeling him bump against the spongy skin of your cervix just as his cock is fully swallowed by your needy cunt in the mirror. Your blunt nails rake down his spine, gliding across the valleys and ridges of his scars, once a reason for shame and pain, now a proud symbol of his victory—and of the ghastly consequences it entailed. The fingers buried in your hair pull at it firmly as he pounds into you, and those on your rear continue their ministrations, wandering to the space between your buttocks to lightly graze the puckered entrance. As he peppers kisses over your nape and shoulders, his own moans grow more desperate and less dignified; sweat drips down his curls, now tousled and sticking to his forehead and temples. You feel so tight, so wet, so warm, so good—always such an obedient little thing, so eager to please, letting yourself be thoroughly ravaged and catering to his every whim, his every desire. There is nothing Astarion values more than his dominance over you; his most beloved treasure, the source of his life, the source of his light, however dim. How terribly he adores you, and how frightfully he yearns for you, to be drunk on you, an addiction so great that the very thought of you leaving his side for even a minute fills him with pure dread. To love you is bliss, but also torturous, for you are at once his greatest strength and his most alarming weakness.

“That’s it, gods, that’s it… you’re taking me so well, darling,” he groans, breath hitching as you push against his thrusts, the lewd sound of smacking flesh reverberating across the room. He is close, so close, and so are you—beyond the glass, his reflection plunges into yours with reckless abandon, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. As you ride him, you can feel the entirety of his length, the velvety skin, the throbbing veins, the tumid girth stretching and rubbing against your slickened walls; and with one last powerful jerk of his hips, you can also feel his thick spend painting them in spurts, flooding you like a broken dam.

“Oh, my love…” Astarion continues rutting into you even through his orgasm, pumping his seed out of your slit. Before long, you too clench violently around him, thighs trembling and gut convulsing, coating his twitching cock in your release. Shoving you back onto the mattress, he keeps leisurely sliding in and out of your sex as you both pant quietly, reveling in the high of your respective climaxes; with his face nuzzled into your cleavage, he affectionately laps at the bite marks on your breast, occasionally intercalating each lick with tender little pecks. You bring one of your hands to his scalp and run your fingers through the silky locks, closing your eyes and emptying your mind, intent on enjoying the moment for what it is, safe and sound in the arms of your lover; he who took you into his sanguineous embrace and imparted on you the gift of absolution, he who set the world on fire while shielding you from the dancing flames, he who placed a crown of roses upon your head after ripping off every thorn. Lux aeterna luceat eis—let perpetual light shine, and from the dark, the two shall reign, betrothed in immortality, wedded in undeath, now and forevermore.

May they rest in peace.

#personal #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 fic #bg3 #ascended astarion #lord astarion #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion x reader #ascended astarion x reader #tavstarion #fic: death and his maiden #my fics

436 notes · View notes