#ATS Resume Tips

[mentorshelly]

ATS-Friendly Resumes: Secrets to Beating the Bots (and Landing That Interview!)

So, you’ve spent hours crafting the perfect resume. It’s got personality, flair, and maybe even a little sparkle. You send it off into the job application abyss, only to hear…nothing. Silence. Crickets. What happened?! Well, my friend, you may have just been ghosted by a bot. Meet Your New Gatekeeper: The ATS Before your resume even reaches human eyes, it must pass through an Applicant Tracking…

[worksmartz]

Keyword Skills to Be Noted in the Resume to Catch the Eye of Recruiters.

Skills for resume are terms particular abilities searched for mostly by the recruiters, though it could include technical skills, soft skills, or certifications. By inserting these keyword skills into your resume, you ensure that you are included in relevant job searches and able to pass candidate screening tests easily.

Read More: https://www.mployee.me/blog/find-out-why-using-right-keywords-for-you-cv-matters

[ai-resume-builder]

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[mavenjobs]

How to Beat ATS & Get Your Resume Seen | Maven Jobs

Have you ever sent out hundreds of job applications and heard… nothing? You’re not alone. Your resume might be stuck in a bottleneck known as the Applicant Tracking System (ATS). These systems are the first hurdle job seekers face when applying online, and more than 60% of resumes get rejected before they even land on a recruiter’s desk.

Stuck in the ATS black hole? MavenJobs helps job seekers bypass ATS filters and get direct interviews. Skip the struggle — Get Job Placement Help Now!

What is an ATS?

An Applicant Tracking System (ATS) is recruitment software companies use to streamline the hiring process. Essentially, it acts as a digital gatekeeper, scanning and filtering resumes to save hiring managers time when dealing with hundreds (or sometimes thousands) of applications.

Why Do Companies Use ATS?

ATS helps companies:

Save time by automating the initial screening process.

Organize applications for easy retrieval and comparisons.

Identify top candidates by ranking resumes based on specific criteria like keywords, skills, and qualifications.

With 75% and 98% of Fortune 500 companies using ATS, these systems have become a non-negotiable part of modern job applications.

The Problem for Job Seekers

For applicants, ATS can be a double-edged sword. While it ensures that companies can quickly zero in on qualified candidates, it often eliminates poorly formatted resumes or missing the “right” keywords. Even highly skilled candidates may get filtered out if their resumes aren’t optimized for ATS.

Section 1: Understanding How ATS Works

Before you can beat ATS, you need to understand how it operates. Here’s a breakdown:

How ATS Scans Resumes

ATS doesn’t just “read” resumes like a recruiter would. These systems:

Parse your resume into sections (e.g., experience, education, skills).

Scan for keywords that match the job description.

Rank your resume based on how well it fits the job posting.

Filter out resumes with formatting errors or missing key elements.

Common Reasons for ATS Rejection

Keyword Mismatch: Missing important job-specific or industry-relevant terms.

Unscannable Formatting: Using tables, graphics, or non-standard fonts that ATS can’t process.

Wrong File Format: Some systems fail to read PDFs properly; .DOCX is usually safer.

Gaps in Employment: Unexplained employment gaps can raise red flags.

Understanding these basics is essential to crafting a resume that gets through the system.

Section 2: How to Create an ATS-Friendly Resume

Now that you understand how ATS works, here’s how to craft a resume that gets noticed.

Choose the Right Resume Format

Do this: Use a reverse chronological format, first listing your most recent experiences.

Avoid this: Functional resumes that focus on skills but omit specific experiences. ATS often can’t process them effectively.

Use Proper ATS-Compatible Formatting

Stick to standard fonts like Arial, Calibri, or Times New Roman.

Save your file in .DOCX format unless the job posting specifies otherwise.

Keep a clean, simple layout. Avoid images, graphics, headers, or columns.

Optimize Your Resume with ATS Keywords

One of the best ways to beat ATS is by using the right keywords:

Extract keywords from the job description.

Incorporate these keywords naturally throughout your resume.

Use synonyms and variations like “SEO” and “Search Engine Optimization.”

Example

Instead of “Managed a team,” write, “Team Management | Led cross-functional teams to deliver $2M in revenue projects.”

Include the Right Resume Sections

A well-structured resume is ATS-friendly. Make sure to include:

Summary: Use 2–3 powerful sentences that include job-specific keywords.

Skills: Include a mix of hard skills (specific to the job) and soft skills.

Work Experience: Focus on quantifiable results (e.g., “Boosted sales by 20% in 6 months”).

Education: Include degrees, certifications, and any relevant training.

Avoid ATS Killers

Here’s what you should NEVER do:

Use graphics, photos, or icons.

Include fancy or non-standard fonts.

Add text in headers or footers (ATS can’t read them).

Leave unexplained gaps in your employment history.

Section 3: How to Test Your Resume Before Applying

Don’t risk submitting a resume that doesn’t pass ATS scrutiny. Here’s how to test its compatibility:

Use ATS Resume Checkers

Take advantage of free tools like:

Jobscan.co: Optimize your resume keywords for specific job descriptions.

Zety Resume Scanner: Offers recommendations for ATS-friendly formatting.

Resunate: Helps refine your resume based on ATS preferences.

Conduct a Plain Text Test

Copy-paste your resume into a plain text file like Notepad. If the formatting looks messy or unreadable, ATS will likely struggle to process it.

Use LinkedIn’s “Easy Apply” Feature

Some job applications on LinkedIn bypass ATS entirely, giving you another edge.

Section 4: Should You Use a Placement Agency for ATS Success?

Still struggling to get noticed? Consider working with a placement agency.

Benefits of Recruitment Agencies

Bypass ATS: Many agencies send resumes directly to hiring managers.

Expert Guidance: Agencies often rewrite your resume based on ATS algorithms.

Tailored Opportunities: They match your skills with the right job openings.

At MavenJobs, we help job seekers optimize resumes and connect directly with recruiters to fast-track the hiring process. Interested? Reach out to us for tailored support!

Maximize Your Chances of Landing an Interview

Creating an ATS-friendly resume doesn’t just help you get noticed; it’s a critical step in today’s competitive job market. By understanding how ATS works, optimizing your resume formatting and keywords, and testing your resume with ATS tools, you can significantly improve your chances of landing your dream job.

Need help fine-tuning your resume? Let MavenJobs guide you through the process! We’ll help you beat the bots, get more interviews, and secure the role you’ve been waiting for.

[topjobsearchplatform]

How to Use ATS Systems to Get Noticed by Recruiters

Applicant Tracking Systems (ATS) have revolutionized the hiring process, making it easier for recruiters to filter through thousands of applications efficiently. If you want to increase your chances of getting noticed, understanding how ATS works and optimizing your resume accordingly is essential.

What is an ATS?

An ATS is a software application that automates the hiring process by scanning resumes, filtering candidates, and ranking them based on relevance to job descriptions. Recruiters use these systems to streamline hiring, making it crucial for job seekers to ensure their resumes align with ATS requirements.

For those looking to maximize their job search efforts, platforms like Find Jobs Online provide numerous opportunities to discover new openings and connect with recruiters.

Key Strategies to Optimize Your Resume for ATS

1. Use Relevant Keywords

ATS relies on keywords to assess the suitability of candidates. Ensure your resume includes industry-specific terms found in the job description, such as programming languages, certifications, or key responsibilities.

2. Maintain a Simple and Clean Format

Avoid complex layouts, graphics, and unusual fonts, as ATS systems may struggle to parse these elements. Stick to standard fonts like Arial or Times New Roman and use clear headings and bullet points.

3. Customize Your Resume for Each Job Application

A one-size-fits-all resume may not always work. Tailor your resume for each application by incorporating relevant keywords and focusing on skills and experiences that match the job posting.

4. Optimize Your Resume with Proper Headings

Use standard section headings like "Work Experience," "Education," and "Skills." This helps ATS easily navigate and categorize your resume correctly.

5. Avoid Unnecessary Information

Including irrelevant details like personal photos, fancy designs, or excessive personal information can reduce the ATS-friendliness of your resume. Stick to essential details that showcase your professional qualifications.

How to Improve Your Chances of Getting Noticed by Recruiters

1. Build a Strong Online Presence

Having a LinkedIn profile that complements your resume can boost your visibility. Recruiters often cross-check online profiles to validate the information provided in resumes.

2. Network with Industry Professionals

Engaging in networking events, joining professional groups, and connecting with recruiters on job portals can improve your chances of landing an interview.

3. Keep Your Resume Updated

Regularly updating your resume ensures that your latest achievements, skills, and experiences are included, making you a more attractive candidate to potential employers.

Common Mistakes to Avoid When Using ATS Systems

Overstuffing keywords in a way that disrupts readability.

Using images, charts, or tables that ATS may not interpret correctly.

Submitting resumes in non-standard formats like JPEG or PNG instead of PDF or DOCX.

Ignoring job description requirements when tailoring your resume.

Conclusion

Getting noticed by recruiters requires a strategic approach to resume optimization and job searching. By leveraging ATS best practices, utilizing job search platforms like ATSMantra, and continuously refining your skills, you can significantly increase your chances of landing your desired job. Stay proactive, network with professionals, and ensure your resume is ATS-friendly for the best results.

[resume-analyzer]

Resume Generator Free or Not: Avoid These 5 Mistakes When Making Your Resume

Creating a resume has never been easier, thanks to the abundance of free resume generator tools. But not all tools are created equal. If you’re not careful, using the wrong generator could hurt your chances of landing that dream job. Don’t worry—we’ve got you covered! 🚀

Here are 5 common mistakes to avoid when crafting your resume:

1. Using Generic Templates

Avoid cookie-cutter templates that make your resume look like everyone else's. Customization is key to standing out.

2. Ignoring ATS Optimization

If your resume isn’t ATS-friendly, it may not even make it to a recruiter. Use tools that prioritize ATS compatibility and tailor your content with the right keywords.

3. Including Irrelevant Information

Resist the urge to list outdated details like hobbies or high school achievements (unless they’re relevant). Keep it concise and professional.

4. Overloading Visual Elements

Flashy designs can be tempting, but they may not work well with ATS or some hiring managers. Keep it clean and simple.

5. Skipping Proofreading

Typos and formatting errors? Major red flags. Always review your resume or use a reliable analyzer to ensure everything is polished.

💡 Pro Tip: Want to avoid these mistakes and craft an ATS-friendly resume with ease? Check out our guide to Resume Generator Free or Not – 5 Mistakes to Avoid for all the details!

✨ Ready to build a standout resume? Explore customizable templates with KudosWall’s Resume Generator Free and start your job search the right way!

[bidisharay]

Essential Resume Tips for Success

Creating a standout resume is crucial in today’s competitive job market. Whether you're entering the workforce for the first time or looking to take your career to the next level, your resume is the first impression potential employers will have of you. At Bidisha Ray, we offer expert Resume Writing Services and believe that the right resume can make a world of difference in landing the job you desire. Here are some valuable resume tips to help you craft a resume that stands out.

1. Tailor Your Resume for Each Job

One of the most important resume tips is customising your CV for each job you apply for. Generic resumes are often overlooked by recruiters. By tailoring your resume to match the job description, you can highlight the specific skills and experience that align with the role. Focus on keywords from the job listing and ensure that they are included in your resume.

2. Start with a Strong Professional Summary

The professional summary at the top of your resume is your opportunity to make a strong first impression. Keep it concise, usually 2–3 sentences, and focus on what you bring to the table. Highlight your key skills, qualifications, and career objectives. A strong summary can grab the hiring manager’s attention and encourage them to read further.

3. Emphasise Achievements, Not Just Responsibilities

When listing your work experience, it's easy to fall into the trap of simply listing job duties. Instead, focus on your achievements. Showcase how you added value to your previous employers by including measurable results. For example, "Increased sales by 25% within six months" or "Reduced operational costs by 15% through process improvements."

4. Use Bullet Points for Easy Reading

Hiring managers often scan resumes quickly. To ensure your resume is easy to read, use bullet points to list your accomplishments, skills, and job duties. Bullet points break up large blocks of text, making your resume more visually appealing and easier to digest.

5. Keep It Concise and Relevant

Aim to keep your resume between one and two pages. Focus on relevant work experience, education, and skills that relate directly to the job you’re applying for. Avoid including irrelevant information, such as unrelated hobbies or outdated skills.

6. Proofread Your Resume

One of the simplest yet most important resume tips is proofreading. Typos or grammatical errors can create a negative impression and may result in your resume being dismissed. Take the time to proofread your resume carefully, or even ask a friend or professional to review it for you.

Conclusion

Crafting a resume that stands out is a crucial step in your job search journey. By following these resume tips, you can create a compelling document that highlights your skills and achievements, and ultimately, helps you land the job you want. If you need expert assistance in writing your resume, Bidisha Ray’s Resume Writing Services are here to help. Contact us today to take the next step in your career.

[vanishasview]

How to Write a Resume That Gets Noticed

Your resume is often the first impression you make on a potential employer, so it’s important to make it count. A well-written resume can help you stand out from the competition and increase your chances of getting an interview. Here are some tips on how to write a resume that gets noticed: Tailor your resume to the job you’re applying for. Carefully read the job description and highlight the…

[worksmartz]

Use Description Keywords to Make Your Resume Stand Out

Description keywords come straight from job ads and are what the employer wants. They are also known as CV keywords or Resume Keywords Insert some naturally within the summary, skills, and experiences sections of the resume, so as to improve the match possibility of the applicant for the role. This will enable both the ATS and the recruiter to immediately get the attention to your resume.

[ai-resume-builder]

Top 10 CRM Software Tools Every Customer Relation Manager Should Know in 2025

In today’s hyper-connected world, Customer Relation Managers (CRMs) play a pivotal role in fostering brand loyalty and driving growth. Whether you’re handling inbound client queries, launching retention campaigns, or analyzing consumer behavior, the right CRM software can make or break your efficiency. As we head into 2025, it’s time to skill up with the top CRM platforms ��� and ensure your resume…

[crisp-writers]

101 ATS-Friendly Resume Tips: Crisp Writers

Writing an ATS-friendly resume is crucial for getting your application noticed by automated applicant tracking systems. Professional resume writers of Crisp Writers are skilled at creating ATS-friendly resumes that maximize your chances of passing through applicant tracking systems. The tips provided can serve as guidelines for both professional resume writers and individuals looking to craft their own ATS resumes. Working with a professional can provide additional insights and a tailored approach to make your resume stand out to both ATS and human recruiters.

Here are 101 tips to help you create an effective ATS resume:

1. Use a simple and clean format with standard fonts.

2. Avoid fancy graphics, images, or special characters.

3. Include relevant keywords from the job description.

4. Use standard section headings: Contact Info, Summary, Experience, Education, Skills.

5. Customize your resume for each job application.

6. Save your resume as a .docx or .pdf file.

7. Don't use headers or footers as ATS may not read them.

8. Include your contact information at the top.

9. Write a concise, keyword-rich summary or objective.

10. List your work experience in reverse chronological order.

11. Include specific accomplishments and quantifiable achievements.

12. Use bullet points for easy readability.

13. Include relevant job titles and dates of employment.

14. Highlight your skills, both hard and soft.

15. Use industry-specific keywords throughout.

16. Quantify your achievements with numbers or percentages.

17. Incorporate relevant certifications or licenses.

18. List relevant software and tools you're proficient with.

19. Include your education, degrees, and institutions.

20. Omit personal information like birthdate or photo.

21. Use a professional email address.

22. Proofread carefully for typos and errors.

23. Be honest and accurate in your information.

24. Avoid using acronyms without spelling them out.

25. Check for proper use of verb tenses.

26. Use consistent formatting and style.

27. Tailor your resume to the specific job and industry.

28. Mention volunteer work if it's relevant.

29. Include publications, patents, or presentations.

30. Address any employment gaps honestly.

31. Remove any irrelevant or outdated information.

32. Be concise; aim for a 1-2 page resume.

33. Avoid using tables or text boxes.

34. Use a standard, business-like tone.

35. Ensure your resume is well-structured.

36. Start bullet points with strong action verbs.

37. Use numbers or symbols sparingly.

38. Focus on your most recent and relevant experience.

39. Use a consistent date format.

40. Avoid long paragraphs.

41. Don't overuse industry jargon.

42. Be mindful of keyword stuffing; use keywords naturally.

43. Add a skills section to emphasize your strengths.

44. Include a link to your LinkedIn profile.

45. Use a common file name for your resume.

46. Avoid fancy fonts and text effects.

47. Keep your resume up to date.

48. Make your resume machine-readable.

49. Test your resume using online ATS tools.

50. Ask someone else to review your resume.

51. Tailor your cover letter to match your resume.

52. Keep your file size reasonable for easy emailing.

53. Include relevant professional associations.

54. Mention relevant honors and awards.

55. Include relevant foreign language skills.

56. Keep your resume focused and organized.

57. Include metrics or KPIs to quantify success.

58. List relevant online courses or training.

59. Use a consistent date format (e.g., MM/YYYY).

60. Highlight relevant internships or co-op experiences.

61. Don't use distracting background colors.

62. Use a professional and consistent email signature.

63. Include a link to your portfolio, if applicable.

64. Avoid excessive use of capital letters.

65. Focus on recent education, not high school.

66. Explain any gaps in employment.

67. Use industry-specific terminology when appropriate.

68. Use keywords relevant to the job posting.

69. Add a separate section for relevant projects.

70. Mention professional affiliations or memberships.

71. Optimize your LinkedIn profile for consistency.

72. Address potential employer pain points.

73. Be mindful of your choice of font size.

74. List relevant freelance or consulting work.

75. Don't include irrelevant hobbies or interests.

76. Use a professional and recent photo on LinkedIn.

77. Include a reference section if required.

78. Use consistent formatting for dates.

79. Avoid using too much bold or italics.

80. Test your resume with various ATS software.

81. Include soft skills, like teamwork and communication.

82. Highlight leadership roles and responsibilities.

83. Be concise in your descriptions.

84. Update your resume for career changes.

85. Mention relevant professional development.

86. Focus on results and impacts.

87. Consider a professional resume-writing service.

88. Optimize your resume for mobile viewing.

89. Be consistent with terminology.

90. Don't use obscure abbreviations.

91. Include relevant industry awards or recognition.

92. Avoid long paragraphs of text.

93. Include relevant online profiles or personal websites.

94. Use an easily scannable layout.

95. Check for proper grammar and punctuation.

96. Customize your resume to match the job level.

97. Be honest about your qualifications.

98. Include transferable skills.

99. Be mindful of keyword variations.

100. Use a file naming convention for organization.

101. Stay updated with ATS trends and best practices.

Remember, an ATS-friendly resume is the first step in getting your foot in the door. Tailoring your resume to the specific job you're applying for is key to increasing your chances of success.

"Crisp Writers writes ATS-Optimized Resumes"

[ourjobagency]

Applicant Tracking System (ATS) Usage Report: Key Shifts and Strategies for Job Seekers

The job market is an ever-evolving landscape, and one of the significant game-changers in recent years has been the adoption of Applicant Tracking Systems (ATS) by companies to streamline their hiring processes. In this blog, we will explore the key shifts in ATS usage in 2023 and provide valuable strategies for job seekers to navigate this increasingly automated recruitment world.

The Growing Role of ATS in Recruitment

Applicant Tracking Systems have been a staple in HR departments for years, but their influence continues to expand. In 2023, ATS technology has become more sophisticated, capable of analyzing not only resumes but also social media profiles, work portfolios, and online assessments. This shift signifies the need for job seekers to adapt and optimize their profiles accordingly.

Key Shifts in ATS Usage:

AI-Driven Matching: ATS now employ advanced AI algorithms to match candidates with job descriptions. They analyze keywords, skills, and even sentiment analysis to assess cultural fit.

Assessment Tools: Many companies use ATS to administer pre-screening assessments, evaluating candidates' skills and compatibility with the role.

Social Media Integration: ATS have integrated social media scraping capabilities, allowing them to gather additional insights about candidates. Job seekers need to maintain a professional online presence.

Diversity and Inclusion: Companies are using ATS to track diversity and inclusion metrics. This underscores the importance of emphasizing diverse experiences and skills on your resume.

Strategies for Job Seekers in the ATS Era

Navigating the ATS-driven job market in 2023 requires a strategic approach. Here are some key strategies to increase your chances of success:

1. Tailor Your Resume

Customize your resume for each application by incorporating keywords from the job description. ATS are more likely to select resumes that closely match the job's requirements.

2. Build an Online Presence

Maintain an updated LinkedIn profile and other relevant social media profiles. Ensure that the information is consistent with your resume. Highlight your skills, achievements, and professional network.

3. Optimize Your Cover Letter

While many job applications don't require a cover letter, if you decide to include one, tailor it to the job you're applying for. Use keywords and phrases from the job description to demonstrate your suitability for the role.

4. Expand Your Skill Set

Invest in continuous learning and skills development. ATS often prioritize candidates with up-to-date skills and relevant certifications.

5. Quantify Achievements

Incorporate quantifiable achievements and results in your resume. Use metrics and numbers to showcase your contributions in previous roles.

6. Network Strategically

Leverage your professional network to learn about job openings. Employee referrals are often highly regarded by ATS.

7. Research the Company

Before applying, research the company and its culture. Tailor your application to align with their values and goals.

8. Follow Application Instructions

Carefully follow the application instructions provided by the employer. ATS may automatically reject applications that don't comply.

9. Review and Revise

Proofread your resume and application materials for errors. Simple mistakes can lead to rejection by ATS.

10. Seek Professional Help

Consider consulting a career coach or resume writer who specializes in ATS optimization to ensure your documents are ATS-friendly.

Conclusion

As Applicant Tracking Systems continue to play a pivotal role in the hiring process in 2023, job seekers must adapt to this new reality. By tailoring their application materials, optimizing their online presence, and staying informed about ATS trends, candidates can enhance their chances of standing out in a competitive job market. Remember, while ATS can be a challenge, they are ultimately designed to help employers find the best-fit candidates, and with the right strategies, you can become one of them.

[holyblonded]

seeing red | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, barcelona femeni x teen!reader

summary: alexia gets injured on the pitch and you lash out

warnings: injuries

notes: finally shortening the request list. but keep them coming!

You never really got nervous before a match. It just wasn’t your thing, pre-game jitters weren’t in your blood. Pressure? You ate it. Big stadiums? You thrived in them. But something about this match… it sat weird in your stomach. Not in a way you could explain, just a dull, off-kilter buzz low in your gut that wouldn’t go away.

Still, like always, you pushed the feeling down. No way were you going to let a little unease get in your head. You threw on your headphones, blasting your favorite playlist, the one that always got you in the zone, and started your usual routine.

“Who’s ready to smoke them?” you shouted as you strolled into the locker room like you owned the place, already dancing, doing that exaggerated shuffle you knew would get laughs.

Jana rolled her eyes and tossed a sock at you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously good-looking,” you quipped, dodging the sock and doing finger guns in the mirror. Ona tried to suppress a grin, while Pina gave you a slow clap.

You moved around the room, checking on everyone, throwing a random arm around a shoulder, yanking someone into a hug. Just keeping the energy up. That was always your role, the little spark plug, keeping spirits high, shaking off tension before it could settle in anyone’s bones.

But even through the jokes, even while you were lacing your boots with flair and pretending they were cleats blessed by the football gods, your eyes kept drifting to one person. Alexia.

She sat on the bench beside you, quiet and focused, pulling her socks up with that same steady rhythm she always had. You didn’t say anything at first, you just shifted a little closer, bumping your knee against hers.

“Hair,” you said, spinning around on the bench to face her and tipping your head back.

She didn’t even hesitate. She just pulled your curls into her hands with practiced ease, smoothing them out and beginning to braid. It wasn’t tight, she knew you hated that before a game. Just secure enough to keep the flyaways out of your face for the first half. Her hands were gentle, but firm. Familiar. Comforting.

“I’ll protect you out there,” you mumbled, half-joking, half-dead serious.

Alexia let out a soft laugh, but you felt her pause, her hands still holding your hair. Then she resumed, finishing the braid and giving the end a quick tie before ruffling the top of your head.

“It’s me who protects you, bebita.”

You didn’t say anything to that. You just smiled. Because that’s what you believed.

Alexia was invincible to you. Steady and immovable, like a mountain. The leader. The strongest. She was the first one to have your back, the first one to ground you when your fire burned too hot. If you were a storm, she was the anchor. There was no version of the world where she didn’t hold you down.

Even now, as you jogged out onto the pitch, shoulder brushing hers in the tunnel, you felt that same old swell in your chest.

With Alexia out there, everything would be fine. Nothing could go wrong. She was untouchable. She was everything.

And you had no idea how much that belief was about to shatter.

The whistle blew, sharp and cutting through the early afternoon air, and you were off like a match struck to dry kindling. The ball kissed your cleats like it belonged there because it did. You were in the zone, slicing between Sevilla’s lines with practiced ease, your first touch velvet, your second touch fire. You didn’t have to think. You moved on instinct, hips low, arms loose, mouth running with quiet venom when you stole possession, when you drew defenders in and made them look stupid. You muttered insults under your breath, sharp and fluid like the movements of your body. You flicked the ball between the legs of a midfielder chasing you and called back over your shoulder with a grin on your face, “you’re too slow.”

Alexia held the center like gravity itself. Calm, steady, always in the right place. She didn’t have to shout to be heard. She just moved like the whole pitch belonged to her. She was the calm in your chaos, the control in your fire. When you pressed too high, she dropped. When you drifted wide to bait your mark, she filled the vacuum you left behind. You could feel her presence without even looking. But sometimes, when you glanced up mid-dribble and your eyes met hers, there was something in the flicker of that gaze that settled you. She had you. You had her.

You danced around tackles. You baited them too. You played with a grin on your face and a fire in your eyes. You were ruthless and clever and maybe a little too cocky, but it was working. You threw your shoulder into challenges with no fear, hit the ground when you needed to, rolled once for flair. You knew when to sell a foul and when to bounce right back up.

But late in the match, the tone changed. Everyone’s legs were heavier. There was sweat in your eyes, mud on your socks, and a buzz of adrenaline still charging through your veins. You were turning to track back, watching the play unfold, and that was when it happened. You didn’t see the tackle, not fully.

You just heard it. That sound. Cleats cracking against shin. That body hitting the ground with a hollow kind of thud. Your stomach dropped before your brain even caught up.

You whipped around. And you saw her. Alexia. On the ground. Not rolling. Not springing back up. Not waving off the ref with her usual calmness. No. She was still. Her hands clutched her knee, or maybe her side, you couldn’t tell. But she wasn’t moving. Her jaw was locked with pain and her eyes were squeezed shut and she was not moving.

You froze. Everything around you blurred.

The crowd had gone silent and the referee seemed distant. Your teammates calling out but you couldn’t hear anything. You couldn’t hear. You couldn’t think.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your chest felt like it was caving in. Panic hit like a truck. Not her. No. Not her.

Your body moved before your brain did. You ran. You ran like something was chasing you. Not for the ball, not for a goal. You ran to her. But halfway there, you saw the Sevilla player. The one who had taken her down. She was standing there like nothing happened. Just standing. Watching.

You saw red.

You veered before you even realized what you were doing. You slammed into her. Your hands hit her chest and she stumbled backward, crashing to the grass. The ref’s whistle blew again, high and shrill and angry. But you didn’t care. You didn’t even hear it.

You were on top of her in a flash, not throwing punches, just yelling. Just screaming. Not words. Not anything that made sense. Just rage. White-hot. Blinding. Wild. The kind that made your vision blur and your throat burn.

Then arms were around you. Big ones. Strong. Irene wrapped around your waist. Ingrid grabbed your flailing arm. They held you back as you thrashed. For a second, you fought them. You weren’t thinking. You were just trying to get to her. To the girl who hurt Ale. To Ale. To someone. You didn’t know. You just needed to do something.

Their voices broke through eventually.

“She’s getting help,” Irene said, voice low but firm. “Estrella. She’s okay. The medics are with her.”

You couldn’t hear over the roar in your ears. You couldn’t breathe right. Your lungs were locking up and your hands were shaking. You weren’t crying. Not yet. You were past crying. You were pacing, trapped in your own skin, snapping your neck toward where Alexia still lay on the ground.

She wasn’t moving. The medics were kneeling next to her. One of them had a hand on her knee. Another was waving someone over from the sideline. You couldn’t see her face anymore.

Someone touched your arm. You yanked it back.

“Let me see her,” you snapped. You didn’t even know who you were talking to. “Let me—she’s—she’s—”

Your voice cracked. The heat in your chest was collapsing into something colder now. The kind of cold that comes after a fire has burned too long. The kind of cold that felt like grief.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink.

You were shaking from the inside out and all you could think was one thing, repeating over and over again like a drumbeat, louder than the crowd, louder than the whistle, louder than your own breath.

The locker room is buzzing in the background, half celebration, half concern, but you sit still in the corner, your boots still laced, your kit damp and clinging to your skin. You haven’t moved since the final whistle. Haven’t laughed. Haven’t showered. Haven’t even looked at anyone except your phone, which rests in your hands like it might give you answers. Like it might bring her back to the bench.

You keep checking. Again. And again. No messages. No updates. Just silence.

The girls throw glances your way, subtle and not so subtle. Jana frowns, her celebration muted as she eyes you from across the room. Vicky whispers something to Ona, brows knit together in worry. Ingrid glances at the medical staff pacing in and out. You’re always loud. Always moving. Always chirping about something or clinging to someone. This silence from you… it feels wrong. It weighs down the air.

You don’t even notice the moment Irene steps forward. She crouches a little, putting herself in your line of sight, voice soft but firm. “Estrella… Ale’s in the medical room. She’s okay. Just a knock.”

Your head shoots up. Your phone slips from your fingers and clatters against the floor. In the same breath, you’re up.

“Excuse me,” you mutter as you push past shoulders and gear bags and open lockers. Your boots thud against the hallway floor, studs clacking with urgency. You move fast, faster than you did during the game. Like you’re chasing down a breakaway. Like everything in the world depends on you getting to that room.

You don’t stop until you’re standing in the doorway of the medical room. Your breath catches.

Alexia sits on the table, an ice pack held to her ribs, a bandage wrapped tightly around her thigh. Her jersey is bunched at the waist, her face pale, her expression tired. But when she looks up and sees you, her eyes immediately soften.

“Hey, Estrella—”

You don’t let her finish. You’re already across the room, throwing yourself into her arms, burying your face in her shoulder like if you squeeze hard enough, you can undo what happened on the pitch. Your arms wrap tightly around her middle like you’re afraid she might disappear.

“You scared me,” you whisper, voice trembling.

Alexia’s arms come around you, steady and warm, her hand immediately rubbing soft circles into your back. “I’m okay, Estrella. Just a knock.”

You shake your head, eyes clenched shut, voice cracking as you try to form words. “You didn’t get up. You always get up.”

Your breath hitches, and then the words pour out in a rush, raw, messy, tangled with fear.

“You can’t scare me like that. You’re my mami. You’re my everything. You always know what to say, you always fix things, you always hold me together when I fall apart. I don’t know how to be if something happens to you. I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to lose you. You’re too strong to get hurt and I—I’m not strong enough if you break.”

Alexia exhales slowly, her fingers combing gently through your curls, her voice nothing but warmth. “I’m okay. I promise you, I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t say anything else. You just stay there, breathing her in, holding her like you’re trying to memorize the way her heart beats.

You finally start breathing normally again, the pressure in your chest releasing its grip, the ache between your ribs easing with every pass of her hand over your back. Your cheek stays pressed against her shoulder. Your arms locked around her like you’re keeping the whole world from shifting out of place.

You don’t see the door creak open, but Ale does. She lifts her gaze slightly.

Olga stands there, a water bottle in hand. She pauses in the doorway, takes in the sight, the way you’re curled into Ale like she’s your anchor, the way Ale’s eyes are closed like this is the only moment she needed to feel okay again.

Olga doesn’t interrupt. She just gives the softest smile, something flickering in her eyes, and closes the door quietly behind her before heading back down the hallway.

In the family room, Eli looks up as Olga returns. “How’s Estrella?”

Olga exhales, sliding into the seat beside her, the water bottle resting between her palms. “With Ale. Crying into her shoulder.”

Alba’s face softens. “Cute.”

Olga nods. The smallest smile pulls at her lips, even if her heart is still beating out of rhythm. “So cute.”

[biteofcherry]

Touch the Darkness

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; possessiveness; power imbalance; forced marriage; D/s undertones; jealous Reader (though she claims otherwise); non-lethal poisoning; sex; turned on by violence;

word count: 6.8k

Author’s Note: I know you've waited a bit for this next chapter. I didn't exactly have trouble writing it, my muse was simply interested in other projects. But I'm always a hoe for dark Steve, so returning to him was inevitable. As it was inevitable for Steve's dick darkness to start corrupting Reader in small doses. Or, maybe, he gives her boldness to act out on instincts she would otherwise suppress, because they're not proper 😏 For a brighter side - Princess gains a genuine new friend! 🥰

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 8. Tempestuous as the sea

~ * ~

You could blame the slow process of writing on the tiredness, but it was honestly the fault of delicious macaroons you’ve been reaching for every single sentence. At least with the sweet bite the mundane typing of a bland report felt a little more exciting. Once you ate the final macaroon, only the boring part would remain. 

Of all the excitement and challenges that came with running a health center, the bureaucratic side of it was truly exhausting. 

A knock on the door of your home office startled you mid bite. 

Before you swallowed and managed to invite him in, Steve was already pushing the door open and strolling inside.

You glared at him, but didn’t comment on the intrusion. Knowing your husband, he’d say that he came in your pussy just this morning and you had no objections to it, so why fuss over a damn office. 

Pointing out that you didn’t exactly invite him into your pussy either, was a futile argument. Especially since you didn’t stop him, or even elbow him in those perfect, stupid abs of marble. 

Quite the contrary. You rocked back against him and begged, until he rolled you fully onto your front and savaged you. 

You were still disgusted with yourself for that. As well for the sex two nights before. And the one in the shower. Or the Sunday humiliation, when it became clear that the chef was in the kitchen preparing your fancy dinner while you were screaming the house down as Steve wrung three orgasms out of you, one after the other. 

So disgusted. And still giving in to the temptation that was the devil himself. 

Who walked around your desk and leaned against it, looking down at you curled in the chair and with your cheeks stuffed with sweets. 

A strange feeling knotted your stomach. 

You were barefoot, wearing a pair of leggins and a hoodie. Crumbs of gooey sweetness were sticking to the corners of your mouth. Steve was barefoot, too; which meant he came home for the rest of the day, with no plans of leaving. He had a plain, tight T-shirt paired with dark jeans, his leather jacket already taken off. He stared at your face, only briefly glancing at the almost empty plate of macaroons.

This scene was so… domestic.

Instead of unwrapping that terrifying thought, you diverted your attention to the royal red envelope in Steve’s hand. A beautiful calligraphy shimmered in gold. 

“What’s that?” You asked, swallowing the rest of your macaroon. 

Unexpectedly, Steve leaned forward. Tip of his tongue licked at the corner of your mouth, swiping the sticky sweetness. Then it plugged between your lips that opened on a soft gasp.

The kiss was short, but intense and depraved. As it always was with Steve. And your treacherous body chased it as he pulled back.

“Lemon would pair better.” He hummed, resuming his previous stance.

“What?” You blinked, confused. Your head was still swimming in dizzy fog from that unexpected kiss. As well from the fact nothing more followed.

You were married, but there was nothing marital about your relationship with Steve. There were no sweet kisses good morning or goodbye, or hugs and cuddles. If either of you initiated physical contact it was to fuck. 

But now no touching, or undressing followed. The unexpected kiss remained just that - a shard of affection a normal newlywed couple might show each other.

It messed with your mind. And pulled at a cord in your chest.

“With your taste.” Steve explained; corners of his mouth curling in a hungry smirk.

Which, really, should be followed by his mouth descending on other parts of you. 

Instead, your body filled with heat both from the kiss and his words while Steve returned to tapping the envelope against his thigh, unbothered. 

Swallowing, you pushed that spark of need down. Steve was already too aware of how eagerly your body responded to him. Especially, since you stopped fighting it too much when the desire sparked low in your core. You weren’t going to further your humiliation. 

“So what’s with that?” You asked, pointing at the red envelope. 

“An invitation.” Steve showed you the beautifully addressed front. “For Mr and Mrs Rogers.”

You ignored his pleased smirk when he said the last part. It still evoked annoyance. The realization other people were now calling you by his last name fueled that irritation. 

“To Stark’s annual post expo gala.” He said it with a roll of his eyes.

Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled. You doubted it was because he had no regard for technology and knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, Steve Rogers was exceptionally smart and up to date with many areas of expertise. 

From what you learned about your husband over the weeks, he wasn’t a fan of boring, social chit-chat and fake politeness. Which is why he preferred his direct, brutal methods of communication. But even he couldn’t fully escape socializing with the people he had on payroll and leash. 

“I assume it’s expected of me to go with you,” you glared at him, even though a small spark of excitement flickered in your chest.

You’ve been to a few fancy parties and fundraisers, but to attend something of this caliber was a thrilling novelty. 

For one, you’d get to dress up. You liked it, once in a while, to feel like a modern sort of Cinderella, who gets to swirl around in a pretty dress and eat expensive snacks. Secondly, it was a tempting opportunity for you as a director of the health center to lure in new benefactors. The project you’ve been working on was one that would need a solid dose of funding. 

There was also the aspect of meeting people in similar fields. Stark’s expo focused on technology mostly, but that area leaked into medical fields, as well. There were a lot of neuroscience breakthroughs in the past years, which served psychiatric and psychological fields. It could prove beneficial, if you spoke to some experts.

“Princess,” Steve tilted his head, “fuck the expectations.”

You almost sagged in disappointment.

“But-” he continued- “I have a few things to settle with some people and they will be there. It saves me a lot of time to do it there. And since I’m going, you are going, too.” 

He dropped the envelope onto the desk then cupped your chin with his hand. You hated how you didn’t hate the jolt of pleasure his touch evoked. 

“First official outing as newlyweds, Princess. Gotta make an impression.” There was near cruel mirth in his blue eyes.

“Pffft!” You snorted, attempting to pull away from his grip. You still haven’t fully accepted that once Steve had his hand on you, he was unlikely to relent.

Well, your mind didn’t accept it. Your body has become a whore for it. 

“I doubt I’ll be making any sort of impression on the corrupted men who kneel for you,” unless they were disgusting pigs interested in ogling Steve’s sidepiece. “Though I guess I could use you, for a change. Your name could be impressive enough for some schmucks to donate to the center.” 

“Tell them you’re mine and they’ll fund you three centers.” Steve said it so casually, without any hint of cockiness. In his eyes, it was a simple truth. 

“I’m not yours,” you hissed, more annoyed at the heat you felt creeping over your skin.

At that Steve smirked. 

He released your chin and stood up. He didn’t even counter your claim, as if it was the most pitiful lie that didn’t require any argument because neither of you believed it. 

He stole one macaroon before leaving your office. 

You quickly stuffed your mouth with the only macaroon left, in case he would take that away from you, too. Then you returned your gaze to the project document. Suddenly, with the prospect of potential donors, you felt a new wave of energy and motivation to write it all out. 

You clung to the claim that it was the same motivation filling you with excited lightness as you donned on a beautiful evening dress three weeks later. Adamant on enjoying the fancy party and working for the center’s goals, you pushed away the nagging thoughts of going there as Steve’s wife. 

Not that you thought anyone would be interested in that, anyway. You weren’t a famous socialite, or a model, and you considered Steve to be terrifying enough that no one would imagine him getting married. Much less gossiping about it.

The smaller argument you weaved - about you not even matching your outfits, ergo no one would recognize you as a couple - died the moment you descended the stairs to where Steve was already waiting for you. 

The only time he wore a suit was at your wedding. His usual style was rougher, more practical and intimidating. A jagged chunk of volcanic rock, still pulsing with burning lava. So it was quite shocking to see him in a dark blue two piece that was cut so perfectly that his broad shoulders and tapered waist seemed more prominently outlined than when he wore jeans and tight shirts. 

The shade of his suit was dark enough to hold that dangerous, intimidating aura, but the shiny blue hue matched your choice of dress perfectly. 

He was the night sky to your moon glow. 

Steve didn’t mask the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you. Though you were thankful he didn’t utter anything about not making it to the gala, because he wanted to sate that hunger. 

He did, however, order you to turn around; with that rough, low voice that had your clit tingling. Despite the vow you made to yourself two months ago, to not so easily comply with his commands, you did as asked. You found yourself staring at your reflection in the large mirror in the entryway, your body heating up from the sudden lewd imagery of what could happen if Steve put his hands on you. Would he make you watch as he…

His ice blue eyes sparked a dark satisfaction, undoubtedly reading your body well enough to suspect where your thoughts have wandered.

But he didn’t mock you. Instead, his touch was a gentle brush that evoked goosebumps as he placed something shiny and heavy on your chest. 

He clasped the white gold necklace at the back of your neck as you stared at the incredible rock nestled in a cushion of diamonds that were so crystal white they appeared to be frosty snow. 

The rock in the middle was a hue of sundown orange, mostly transparent, but with a flame encapsulated within. Like the heart of a star. 

“Once upon a time,” Steve’s fingers trailed over your exposed collarbones and down along the delicate chain of the necklace. “There were six rarest jewels in the world. Called the infinity stones.”

Memory of Batroc asking about them flashed in your mind and you held your breath. 

The rumors were true, then. Steve was the ghost from the legend, who tore through the Greek magnate’s citadel and stole the rarest gems, without leaving a trace. If this was one of them, were the rest nestled in the rings on his fingers like you presumed once before? 

“This one is called the soul stone.” Steve traced the outline of the pendant with his fingertip, dipping it into the valley between your breasts. Your nipples hardened instantly.

“Fitting, since you’re the devil who stole mine,” your retort had no bite. Not with how breathless you sounded.

Steve chuckled, slipping his hand over your breast and lower. His fingers splayed across your belly as he pressed closer against you. His breath was a warm tickle on your skin as he brushed his lips along the column of your throat.

“I stole more than that, haven’t I, Princess?” He smirked at the flash of fear in your eyes, which dissolved into stubborn defiance. 

“Yes. My peace and chance at happiness.” You glared at him in the mirror. Which didn’t dent his amusement. 

With a chuckle, Steve kissed your neck then scraped his teeth over the spot. Thankfully, not hard enough to leave any evidence, but making your pussy clench. 

You scurried away towards the exit, before he decided to humiliate you by leaving a hickey that anyone could see. 

You tried not to show how Steve’s touch on your lower back affected you, neither on your way to the car, nor when you entered the lavish gala at the Stark Tower. You doused the warmth of comfort with a flute of champagne when Steve spent the first solid hour keeping you at his side and introducing you to various people. As his wife.

It was only after you two returned to the main hostess and Tony’s wife, Pepper, who greeted you at the entrance and then smoothly roped you into a social conversation, that Steve murmured something about attending to business.

He left you with a brief kiss to your cheek and a brush of his fingers sliding from the small of your back over your ass. Unapologetic about doing it publicly.

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at his retreating form. 

“Ah, newlyweds.” Next to you, Pepper let a dramatically dreamy sigh. 

Your gaze shifted to her, only to notice she was most amused. Unlike some of the women whom you were introduced to, she didn’t look at you with envy or disdain. Which had annoyed you, because really there was nothing to be jealous of. Well, mindblowing sex perhaps. But that was it. Nothing more. 

If they wanted Steve so much, you’d happily give him away. If he only let you. 

Pepper seemed genuine in her friendly approach, witty responses and warmth. The only flaw you found in her so far was the fact she was friendly with Steve, too.

Not overtly, in a way betraying carnal interest, or former relationship (which you sensed from a few other women at the banquet). But the platonic friendliness toward someone like Steve was alarming in itself. 

“Oh yeah,” you snorted, lifting your glass of champagne to your lips, “I’m sooo head over heels for him.”

Pepper’s laugh was soft and tinkling like velvet bells. Nothing fake, or annoying in the sound of it. Quite the opposite, you were surprised how it put you at ease after mingling with people who wore fake politeness like a family crest.

Crinkles appeared in the corners of her eyes as she looked at you and you couldn’t help but respond with your own grin.

“People often mistake my sunny disposition for naivety. They're very wrong.” Pepper said, taking a sip of her strawberry gin & tonic. 

“I know you didn't marry Steve out of love.” She stated bluntly, without judgment or conspiratory whispering. “But watching you two, some things are unmistakable.”

She lifted her left shoulder in a shrug, sparkling amusement in her eyes turning into a knowing look. Your heart halted before setting in a slightly panicked flutter. 

There were little moments when you felt certain cracks in your hard hateful shell, but you hoped that you managed to quickly hide them behind walls and under a mask. You didn’t want Steve finding more of your weaknesses. It was even worse, if someone else saw them.

Pepper barely met you and if she noticed how comfortable you felt at times beside Steve (when you forgot to remember you’re supposed to hate him and be disgusted by his touch), then the bastard must have been aware of them, too. Crap.

Still, you arched your brow as if you had no idea what she was implying. Pepper’s amusement deepened, she wasn’t buying your cluelessness. 

“There may not be romantic affection, but he sure gives you attention.” She said, angling her body so you stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the grand ballroom.

Before you snorted that you’d rather never have drawn Steve’s attention, she vaguely pointed at the room full of people. Expensive suits and dresses worth more than your half year salary, diamonds dripping, chests puffed. Women polished to perfection glued to the side of their men, sweet smiles offered on painted lips.

“That's something only very few women here experience. It’s rare.” There was a hint of disappointment in her tone, but you doubted it had to do with her own relationship. 

Tony Stark was like a hummingbird on energizer and coke - he fleeted from one conversation to the other, growing bored, acting pretentious asshole. He stopped for longer only with a few people. But every half an hour or so, he would search for Pepper and the way his attention zeroed in on her left no room to doubt his love for her.

She grounded him. Gave him a moment to recharge, even as she called him out on some of his antics. 

Many of the women at the gala, who accompanied their husbands, or partners, were there as an accessory. Beautiful, adding to the status, but few were even acknowledged by their company. 

“I’m not sure having Steve Rogers’ attention is exactly a good thing.” You pointed out. 

Everyone here may officially pretend he was a ruthless businessman, while they all knew the bloody truth. He was a mafia boss, a brutal king of the underworld, who wouldn’t blink an eye flaying someone open here in the light of the crystal chandeliers. 

No one wanted his attention on them, not really. 

“Not for most.” Pepper agreed. “Though some of the women might disagree.”

“Are you talking from experience?” You maintained a neutral, indifferent tone (mostly because you didn’t think there was ever anything between Pepper and Steve); yet there was a tiny flicker of something angry that ignited at the prospect.

It stirred with a growl and clawed out a few times that night, when a few of the women made it obvious they were wet and willing for Steve.

“God, no!” Pepper snorted, pretending to shudder. “I’m not that adventurous.”

“Yeah, bungee jumping without rope might be less of an adrenaline rush than being with him,” you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tilted in a grin. 

“Well, it seems only fair to give back in return. What would perturb the dark overlord?” Pepper pretended to seriously ponder, tapping her finger against her lips.

“I could try setting Bucky on fire.” 

Pepper’s laugh resounded with the same melodic chime as previously, but much louder. Not a single fake note, her burst of laughter was real. It enticed your own laugh to bubble out; both of you falling into a fit of giggles behind your drink glasses. 

You drew the attention of many people, who either watched you with suspicion, or glared offended. You didn’t care. And when your gaze connected with Steve’s, who looked your way from the other side of the room while some men were babbling next to him, you didn’t even pretend to be gloomy.

“Now that was the height of entertainment tonight.” Pepper looped her arm around yours, still smiling brilliantly ear to ear. “For me, at least. Now, how to repay you for that? I can tell you all the spicy gossip. We could get drunk and no one would dare to say anything to either me or you.” 

“Not gossip, but information.” You finished your champagne and reached for another flute as a waiter passed by. “I need to know more about this swamp my so-called husband treads through. And I need to milk some of them for money for the center.” 

“I know just the right people for that,” she nodded with determination and steered you toward the first potential benefactor. 

Pepper’s company was a wonderful balm and entertainment rolled into one. She was a graceful hostess, smart and perceptive professional, but also a bubbly imp who didn’t spare you the details about some sordid affairs. 

Though she could excuse herself with her duties, she stuck with you the entire time. She also managed not to smirk at your glower when she pointed at three women who have in the past fucked Steve. 

However, her smile turned mischievous as she spotted someone over your shoulder. She reminded you of the lunch date in three days that you happily agreed to, then smoothly glided away before you managed to properly say goodbye. 

Words stuck in your throat as you felt the familiar solid warmth at your back. Steve’s shadow cast over you first, then his heat and scent engulfed you. Like a mythological fate, always reaching its grasp for the heroine, no matter the hard fight towards the light, your personal devil softly pulled you back into his clutches. 

His hand touched your back and he spun you around. 

“Having fun, Princess?” He looked down at you. 

Icy blade of his gaze cut down men bigger than life, but, despite the first instinctive flash of fear, you felt it slicing through the layers of your clothes and defences. 

Plate by plate, you quickly reinforced your shell, to at least endure a few hours more before Steve got under your skin again. 

And into your cunt, because with his hot looks and your four glasses of champagne that was inevitable. 

“I don’t think parties of this kind are meant to have fun.” You scrunched up your nose. “But I managed to sway some rich snobs to potentially fund that educational project for the center. Leon Stavros seems keen to donate half the sum.”

You announced with a proud tilt of your chin and a smile. Tame enough to not share the actual happiness you felt with Steve. You wanted to boast about your little success, but you had to remember that he was the bane of your existence.  

Steve’s hand on your back settled heavier, while his other slid along your arm. He took your hand in his, outstretched your joined arms and in a single move swept you onto the dancefloor. 

“You’ll have to use his money for a different project.” He continued your conversation as he led you across the floor. “The psychoeducation and resources for caretakers project is already fully funded.” 

It took you a moment for his words to register, because you were still scrambling to catch up with the fact that a heartbeat ago you were standing off to the side and now you were dancing across the ballroom. 

It was truly mind boggling that your psychopath husband was a damn good dancer.

“What? Who?” You blinked, when it finally dawned on you what he said. You even cast a glance around, wondering who managed to deliver the funds so quickly.

Something sharp pierced through your chest as you realized there was only one person who knew before everyone else and could fund a project with a single transfer. Your gaze flicked back to Steve’s handsome face.

“Steve…” 

Heaviness of the situation turned worse by the second, because he wasn’t showing that smug, triumphant look, which would at least remind you to hate him. 

“You were determined to get that project running.” Steve replied easily. There was no affectionate passion in his next words, but still they chipped at the walls protecting you - “What you want, you get.”

“Thank you.” At the moment you didn’t know how else to respond. How to treat this gift. 

You could think of it as his manipulation to get you further into his sticky web, but he already had you at his mercy on all accounts. No, it flashed too much thoughtfulness.  

To preserve the comfortable setting of animosity, you asked cheekily - “What if I want a divorce?”

You were determined to keep asking for a divorce every chance you got. Officially, you believed it was because you wanted out of this fucked up marriage. Secretly, you were thrilled with the various ways Steve responded to that demand. 

“Then-” he pulled you even closer, his cheek brushing yours as he leaned down to whisper into your ear- “you get a fucking so hard, any silly ideas drip out of you permanently.” 

Steve delivered on the hard fucking, even though you haven’t mentioned divorce again that night. 

You blamed the champagne and happiness at having your project funded for making you sit so close to him in the car on your way back from the gala, rubbing your heated body against him with unrestrained need. Steve was merciful enough to not wait it out until you lost the battle with your own will and initiated sex yourself, but instead dragged you over his lap, rolled up your dress and fingered you into a dripping, screaming puddle before you made it home.

Then he took you hard, in front of that fucking mirror in the hall. With you completely naked, wearing only the necklace and watching yourself give in to the monster completely. 

You nearly passed out when he fucked you again in bed. Your almost unconscious state didn’t stop Steve from using you thoroughly and then spilling thick ropes of white cum all over your body, white drops landing around the jewel sparkling on your chest. 

Though your body was wonderfully blissed out each time you and Steve had sex - which was becoming an almost daily thing - you still refused to use the blissful adjective to describe your marriage. Or any positive adjective, for that matter. Even as the comfort of sitting next to him or sharing meals increased; or how he casually draped your legs over his lap, massaging your calves while he typed murderous decrees on his phone. 

The word domestic echoed in your head often, but you drowned it in screams of his victims, gunshots, Steve’s cold and sinister commands. 

You shouldn’t feel at ease and comfortable around the devil who kept you chained to him. You gave yourself a pass for enjoying mindmelting orgasms, it was a small reward for your suffering, but you wouldn’t let yourself get accustomed to being a wife. Not to Steve. 

So you pretended to be only mildly annoyed when he strolled into your office one day, bringing lunch as if he was a normal loving spouse, and announcing that you’ll be hosting a dinner at home. For the mayor and his wife. To his credit, Steve didn’t imply you had to be the one preparing said dinner. Having a chef was another benefit of your doom. But the expectation of playing the sweet wife and hostess to the corrupted pair of a politician and socialite made your blood boil.

Or maybe it was the fact that mayor’s wife was one of the few women Pepper confirmed to have been fucking Steve in the past.

No, you told yourself as you put on the soul stone necklace when preparing for said dinner. You didn’t care who he sank his cock into. You didn’t care, if he returned to that and left you in peace. 

But your conviction shattered to sharp, jagged pieces when mayor’s wife made obvious moves at your husband, with her own fucking husband sitting right there at the table! 

You were appalled. By her rudeness, of course. 

Mayor played a clueless idiot, probably too scared of Steve to fight for honor. Or maybe he was actually gaining something from having his wife almost drop to her knees and swallow Steve’s cock whole. You played indifference, because why should you care? 

So maybe your knife and fork scraped against the plate so loud that everyone at the table cringed in pain, when the mayor’s wife briefly touched Steve’s arm and mentioned missing their passionate art discussions. It was nothing. Just a spasm in your hand. And you gulping down half of your wine glass all unladylike was because you needed to soothe an itch in your throat, not because the floozy licked her lips and made a suggestion Steve should go with her to the new exhibition. 

Though Steve hadn’t replied to Miliana’s advances, focusing on the not so subtle business talk with her husband, he didn’t refuse her either. Which made you want to reach for the knife he had custom made for you and stab him with it, when later that night he had the audacity to touch you. 

Steve merely chuckled, absolutely amused. Mockingly asked if you were jealous. Which you were not! 

Tension slowly dropped after that, as days passed and you haven’t seen that skank’s face. Unexpectedly, however, the mayor requested an official visit to the center. It was a short one, a half an hour so the press could write about his interest in healthcare and supporting new community focused projects. You also suspected he wanted to kiss Steve’s ass.

You didn’t have a reason to deny him, especially since the press would also mention the center and new projects, which would be helpful. It was even better, because he came only with some of his office staff, no wife at his side. 

But then, just as you were breathing in relief that the circus was almost over, the mayor had the balls to invite himself over to your house for dinner the upcoming weekend. 

In true political bullshit manipulation, saying how his wife loved your chef’s scallops and couldn’t wait to taste them again and how your house provided comfort to talk business with your husband. 

At this point, you were wondering if the slimy asshole was a cuckold. 

He was bending backwards just to give his own wife an opportunity to touch your fucking husband. Maybe he really was into that. Maybe he wanted to watch. Maybe you should’ve vomited when you relayed the request to Steve and he shrugged that he’s free Saturday evening: if the greedy idiot wants to crawl begging for more scraps. 

Your appetite evaporated, as you spent days fuming at the prospect of another weird dinner when a shameless woman would be drooling after Steve while you were sitting there right opposite of her, in your own damn home. 

No, this time you wouldn’t stand for it. You would make Miliana associate your house with something most unpleasant. And a small vial stolen from one of the medicine cabinets at the center was going to help you with that.

It was surprisingly easy, really. It should shock you how calm you were as you prepared for the dinner; how a soft smile graced your lips as you set the table while the chef prepared delicious food. But now that determination guided your hand through the plan, earlier fiery aggravation melted away. 

Briefly, you wondered if the same calm took over Steve when he took lives. 

You shook that thought away, since you weren’t attempting to kill anyone. Though when a memory of her hand on Steve’s arm flashed in your mind, your fingers itched to grab a knife. 

Applying a little drop to the bottom of a crystal glass and another on the rim, smearing it along, you felt an odd kind of satisfaction unfurl in your chest. There was no hesitation, no worry about potential mix-up. No, you were certain Miliana would once again seat on Steve’s left. Just like the last time. It was cunning, since it appeared all innocent - her sitting on her husband’s right, just you were sitting on your husband’s right, the men facing each other. 

Your smile widened when the couple entered your dining room and sat exactly like you predicted. Politely fake conversation flew as the chef brought out first dish and his assistant poured wine into glasses. 

The scallops tasted even more delicious, in your opinion. Especially when after a few sips of wine the mayor’s wife had to quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. 

Few minutes later the mayor’s phone vibrated, which led to him frowning at the screen and excusing himself as well - undoubtedly to aid his wife. When he walked back into the dining room a while later, he looked nervous and embarrassed, paler too.

“My apologies. It appears my wife and I have to leave promptly, it was unplanned, but can’t be avoided.” 

You made a sound of worried pity, but continued to cut into your own food and eating it without an ounce of genuine distraught. Steve arched a brow in surprise, but nodded his head, which seemed to bring the mayor immense relief. The man was more scared of offending Steve than for his wife’s health. 

It was less than a minute when you heard their car take off from the driveway. The sound of it and the fact they were no longer polluting the space of your home pleased you greatly. 

“Mhm, these scallops are really delicious,” you hummed, licking your fork. 

“Princess,” Steve tuned the petname in a sing-song tone. “What did you do?”

Slowly, you looked his way. He didn’t seem angry, nor worried. He angled his body towards you, propping one elbow on the table and drumming his fingers in a steady rhythm. He wasn’t asking if it was your doing, he already knew. 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t permanently damage one of your mistresses. She’s just gonna spend a day or two glued to the toilet.” You snorted, clenching your fingers around the fork. “But maybe next time she’ll reconsider coming into the house where your wife lives.”

Dark gleam flickered over Steve’s ice blue eyes. 

He leaned forward, moving his hands to grip the edge of your chair and yanked it at an angle toward him. Your legs were between his, his hands gripping the sides of your chair, veins protruding in his forearms as his muscles tensed.

“Your possessiveness gets me hard.” He chuckled darkly.

“I’m not possessive!” You objected immediately, crossing your hands over your chest. 

“You demanded I marry you, the ruthless fucking king of the underworld. So now you have to deal with having a wife. And your reluctant queen won’t stand for any more humiliation.” You spat the last part, boldly leaning forward and glaring at him with all the accumulated hatred. 

“Princess,” Steve inched even closer, not the least bothered by your outburst. Quite the opposite, he appeared to love it. “My dick hasn’t even twitched for any other woman, since I tasted your lips. There’s no pleasure in standing their fake, exaggerated despair, when I have your sweet pussy so responsive to my darkness…”

Your retort died on your tongue when suddenly one of Steve’s hands gripped your chin.

“Now-” he tightened his pinch on your chin, his voice smoothly transforming into a cold warning. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.” 

“Miliana doesn’t have enough spunk and her husband is too much of a scaredy wimp to retaliate in any form.” He showed zero empathy toward them. “But there are eels and sharks swimming around us and some of them would dare to bite back.”

Holding your chin, Steve forced you to lean closer. His breath tickled your mouth as he inched forward, as well.

“And if anyone dared to put a finger on you, it would end in a bloodbath.”

Only Steve could make a psychopathic threat sound like a seductive, velvet vow of a lover.

Your brain screamed that it was wrong, that you should be disgusted by his words and scared of how easily it came to him to take lives. Yet your insides filled with heat, one spreading through your chest and a wave of it pooling low in your abdomen.

“Don’t go on a murder spree, because of some macho obligation.” You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You. Are. Mine, Princess.” Steve punctuated each word with a brush of his lips against yours. “To harm or disrespect you means to hurt or disrespect me. I have no mercy for those. I would cut off the limb, with which they hurt you, and carve out their intestines. Then fuck you while their blood pools at your feet.”

“That’s disgusting,” with how breathy you sounded, your claim felt like a lie.

One that Steve read right away.

“It turns you on.” He chuckled, grinning. 

“I know that you get so wet from the scary, unhinged things that I do.” His other hand slapped your knees apart.

“I’m not-” you frowned, ready to deny that as well. Even though your body was already primed for him.

Words went forgotten when Steve picked you in a swift move and deposited you in his lap. The hand on your chin moved to grip the front of your neck; the cool sensation of his rings digging into your soft skin made you gasp. The sound nearly stopped in your throat, because he tightened his grip. And it made your arousal burst stronger.

His right hand ventured between your spread thighs. His fingers easily slipped beneath the flimsy fabric of your underwear and teased your slick folds.

“Soaked.” Steve triumphed, running the ring-adorned knuckle of his index finger up and down between your folds. “Sweet, good-hearted Princess who lives to help people, cumming on her brutal husband’s weapons and cock.” 

The mere mention of his thick cock made your pussy pulse. The image of his gun and of the knife sliding along your skin and pressed so close to your most sensitive areas caused a shiver to rock your whole body.

Steve chuckled at your body’s reaction. He laced kisses and licks along your jaw, continuing to tease your cunt.

“As for you wanting to be a queen at my side…” he sucked your earlobe lewdly, making you moan. 

“Do you know what a queen’s role is?” He whispered right into your ear before pulling back slightly.

“To stand fierce and unbending beside her king.” He withdrew his hand, kissing your lips when you pouted at the loss of delicious stimulation. Fingers sticky with your slick, he ran his palm up your belly and over your breast. Then to your arm. 

“And to give him an heir.”

Steve’s eyes locked with yours as his wet fingers circled your arm, thumb pressing right over where your contraceptive implant was hidden beneath your skin. 

“Are you ready for that, Princess?” He asked, rubbing the spot in sinfully slow circles, as he would do your clit. “Are you ready to take out this little implant and let me breed you properly?” 

Your brain was too scrambled, even though Steve barely touched you, really. The adrenaline from poisoning a woman who dared to flirt with your husband mixed with desire that the fucker so easily ignited in you. 

The unexpected mention of impregnation? In that dark, raw way only your husband dared to speak to you? For a short moment your mind simply stopped working.

“No!” You clenched your eyes, letting the last remnants of reason fight against the threat. 

Steve didn’t seem perturbed by your refusal. Perhaps it wasn’t even something he was interested in, just another means to torment you with and make you yield to his command. 

“Until then, you remain my Princess.” He declared, cutting off your airflow for a few seconds and taking possession of your mouth. 

When he let you breathe again, you felt dizzy and pliant. Your own hands clenched on his shoulders as Steve stood up abruptly. He kicked the chair away and placed you on the dining table. 

Plates and wine glasses tumbled over, food and wine spilling across the tablecloth and dripping down on the floor. You felt the sticky wetness soaking into your back as Steve splayed you on the table, but you didn’t care. Not when he was holding you down by your throat with one hand and ripping your soaked underwear with the other. 

Then there was the sound of a zipper and Steve’s low, sexy groan as he gripped his hard cock and stroked it a few times. 

Steve held your gaze as he tapped his dick against your pulsing clit and then nudged it into your opening. A needy whine vibrated in your throat, tempting the fingers around your neck to squeeze just a tad tighter. 

He slammed into you in one stroke; dark victory flamed in his eyes as your body jerked and your pussy clamped around him. 

Buried to the hilt, with his hand around your throat and the other holding your leg bent and pressed against your chest, Steve looked down at you. Danger pulsed off of him like a dark aura, reminding you how defenceless you were.

“Don’t ever fucking endanger what’s mine.” He warned.

You glared at him, indignant at being referred to as his. But then he snapped his hips back and into you again, and your ire flowed into brain short-circuiting pleasure. 

“My good, depraved Princess.” Steve praised, fucking you hard. “Creaming around my cock so prettily.” 

You fisted the tablecloth, mewling as each of his thrust drove you closer to the peak. It was so rough, so raw and based on urges you never considered yourself to have. You hated it. Hated Steve. Hated what he made you into. And you screamed his name as you came.

[altacctforastarion]

Under the desk

So I had a thought, what if you lead the spawns with Astarion but he’s like “actually can you handle like all of it. I just want to chill and go do things when you tell me to.” And so, you being the leader of the Underdark while Astarion plays housewife (kind of) and talks to people for you/goes out on his own to get things or whatever was born. And then I was like, what if he was horny and you were busy and he ate you out under the desk while you worked? What if someone barged in, rude as hell, angry that you were in charge and not him, demanding to speak with him, and he just moves your chair, climbs out from under the desk and lets the guy have it after wiping his mouth?

Also ignore the vampires can’t go in homes uninvited rule for the sake of porn pls and thank you.

Warnings: 18+, mdni (you’ll be blocked on sight. I check my likes/reblogs/follows constantly.), oral sex, you ride him in your office chair, kinda exhibitionism, he kills a guy, you have sex while he’s all bloody and the body is in the room, Hot angry Astarion being a sub just for you, praise kink, aftercare not super included but it is referenced a bit and with all my fics just assume it happens 🤷🏻

You’d woken up to his lips and tongue on your neck, and assumed he’d been feeding, but the lack of pain disproved that quickly. “Astarion?” You question, groggily, your mind still in between sleep and consciousness. He’s clearly been using his skills in stealth, because his body is on top of you, his arms framing your head while his face is buried in your neck.

“Good morning, darling, I’ve missed you. You slept for so long,” He doesn’t move away as he speaks, his lips brushing against your skin, and the kisses and licking resuming, and one of your hands comes up to stroke his hair, tracing the pointed tip of his ear occasionally. It’s true, you’d slept in a bit in preparation for the day. Making deals with a multitude of groups meant sending and receiving a multitude of letters, revising plans constantly to do the very best for your little slice of the Underdark.

“There will be plenty of time for all of this when I’m done with what I need to do, but the list keeps growing and I need to get started. I’ll wash your hair tonight, if that will make it up to you? Use that nice soap I bought when I went topside last?” You already feel heat stirring in your stomach from how he’s lavishing your neck with attention, and you’ve woken up enough to register the hard bulge of his cock against your pelvis.

“If you want to make it up to me, indulge me now,” He pouts against your neck, and you can’t decide if it’s an invitation or a demand, as his hips roll just slightly, pressing his cock against you despite already knowing what your answer will be. Not that you mind, of course. You’d encouraged him to be open about what he wants, sexual or otherwise, and he’ll always respect a no you actually mean and won’t be wavered upon.

“I’m sorry, love, my schedule is clear this afternoon and tomorrow. And I’m not taking visitors today, so you can stay with me in the office if you want? Keep me company? Maybe help me with plans?” You laugh as you speak, and one of his fangs pokes into your neck, not enough to pierce or hurt, as a show of disapproval before he sits up, on his knees between your legs.

“Fine. I’ll sit with you, but I won’t be helping with plans. That’s your job, I am lucky enough to only need to do some talking and rule enforcement as needed. Both things I enjoy, of course.”

“Of course,” you sit up and kiss him, and he wastes no time before pulling you onto his lap, feeling a smile on his lips when you let out a giggle, “Mm, more of this later. I promise.”

—

To his credit, despite being horny and clingy, he brings you water and burnt breakfast to eat while you work before sitting on the edge of your desk instead of the chairs across from you or the seat just for him next to you, and chatting with you while you respond to letters, keeping his boredom contained for longer than you’d thought he would.

“Darling, do you still want my help?”

“Certainly, I’ve got plans for some shops that need built somewhere, plenty of letters that need responses, where would you like to start?” You don’t actually think he’ll actually help, of course, but you smile up at him anyways. His hands touch either side of your face, and he’s eyeing your pulse.

“You’re still excited from this morning. Why don’t you let me help with that?” He leans down, lips inches from yours, but the hands on your face don’t let you lean in, expecting a response from you. He’s right, of course, it’s been a struggle to focus on your tasks instead of thoughts of his body under yours, the sounds that leave him when you sink down on him slow- no, no you can’t focus on that now. His lips widen into a wolfish grin, and you know he’s picked up on your pulse, perhaps even your scent.

“I’d love to go to bed with you, beautiful, but I really need to get these done today. Just a few more hours if I’m fast.”

He sighs out his disappointment, and starts to pull away without kissing you, but your hands catch on his shirt and pull him down, one coming up behind his head to help you deepen the kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth. Astarion moans into the kiss, and the hands on your face begin to travel as he moves without breaking the kiss, sitting closer to you on the edge of your desk. You bite his lip and pull back, and he almost falls onto you while trying to chase your lips, his hands slapping your desk to regain his balance.

“Just a little break? Slip away for an hour or so?” His voice is pleading, hands reaching for you again, but you sit back in your seat, leaning away from him.

“We just took a break, love,” you can’t help but to tease him, watching him deflate, “Now either go back where you were of get off of my desk, I need to work.”

Astarion’s red eyes light up, and he pushes your chair back, ignoring when you question him as he drops to his knees in front of you, moving backwards into the space under your desk, his hands going to your thighs and drawing you in until you can barely see him. “Will this help you work, my love?”

You look down in surprise, “What?”

“Well, I just thought maybe you’d want some relief, with how fast your heart is beating, and this way you can finish your work. What do you say, darling?”

The arrogance in his tone annoys you, and you’ve half a mind to kick him out of the office entirely, to tell him to go find his own relief and leave you alone, not wanting to let him win you over, but it’s too late, you’ve been won, and all you can do now is make your next move to regain the control you’d planned on having. You reach down and grab his hands, bringing them under your skirt, feeling him grab your underwear to pull it off of you but keeping his hands still, “Fine. But you’ll do as I say, or you’ll go somewhere else and wait for me to be done.”

You feel his hands tighten around your underwear, “Yes, of course, love. Whatever you say. May I?” It’s not often that he’s submissive, and that makes his request for permission that much sweeter, a special treat just for you, a beautiful man between your legs under your desk while he trusts you with not just his body, but the leadership of more than seven thousand of his kind as well as himself.

You give him the affirmative, and your hand finds its way into his hair, burying into his curls after he’s removed your underwear. You pull just slightly, and he makes a pleased humming sound beneath you, “Go slow, and don’t distract me. Keep your hands on my thighs, I’ll touch you later when I have the time.”

“Of course, darling.” Astarion sounds eager, head already moving towards you, pulling his own hair in the process, and you wonder how obedient he’ll be as you let go of his hair and pick up your quill. You feel him move closer, the hands he puts on your thighs pulling you in, and you feel his hot breath on your pussy, but his tongue touches your thigh instead, licking and kissing, teasing you. You allow it, though your thighs tense in anticipation everytime he moves.

You focus back on your work, reading over the letter you’re responding to and trying to rearrange your thoughts, resuming your writing, and the second your quill starts to scratch on your parchment his tongue finds your clit. You gasp, and his hands tighten around you, tongue moving against you slow as you’d asked and it’s deliciously agonizing. You fight the urge to buck against him, or to drop your quill and grab his hair, to pull him against you and make demands until you’re dripping and sated, instead you try to think of a good response to a proposed agreement, your free hand clenching on top of your desk.

—

Astarion dares to suck your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it lightly and relishing in the low moan he gets in response. Your thighs tense under his hands and when he speeds up his movements your hips jerk towards him as you gasp, and he’d really planned on slowing back down but how can he? With your taste on his tongue and the little sounds you’re making, it’s impossible really, so instead he keeps going faster, and he hears you drop your quill before he feels the hand in his hair, pulling him back.

“I told you to go slow, beautiful. And here I thought you were going to be good for me.” He hears your voice above him, stern but shaky, and he’s glad you can’t see the way he smiles, proud of himself at how he has you wavering. He does want to be good, however, craving your praise and needing you to be pleased enough to keep your promise of taking care of him later.

“I must have forgotten, apologies, my love. Let me make it up to you.” He practically purrs and he hears you laugh, amused and breathless.

“Be good and remember this time.” There’s no humor in your voice, and he knows you’ll make good on your threats of kicking him out. You let go of his hair and he hears you pick up your quill again as he goes back to his task, licking into you slowly, long languid strokes against your core. Your body tenses under his hands, and then you melt as he works you, hips occasionally bucking before your body relaxes again.

He fights the urge to speed up when you moan, your thighs shaking around his head, his grip on you tightening as he thinks about how easy it would be to keep you still long enough for you to finish, but the craving for your approval wins, and though the grip remains the same, so does his slow pace.

Astarion’s falls into a peaceful state, licking you how you’ve asked, his head resting against your thigh, the joys of obedience taking the shape of your free hand going to his hair, petting his curly hair, and your voice above him, “Good boy, doing so well for me. I’m almost done now, just a few more things to do. When I’m on the last one, I’ll let you make me cum.”

He whines, wanting to make you cum now, but he so desperately wants your approval, so he flicks his tongue against your clit, slow firm licks from your entrance up, and your thighs twitch in time with him.

—

You’re close to your release, but you need more constant stimulation, and he’s done as you’ve asked, keeping you so close to the edge but not pushing you over. You grip his hair, not enough to hurt, but he moans his approval, and you a shiver trails up your spine at the feeling.

But then you hear rapid knocks on your front door, along with an angry voice, “I need to speak with you, I’ve waited long enough, and I’m sick of it!”

The spawns name evades you, but you know the man. A fool who’s been angry ever since Astarion told everyone you’ll be handling more of his share of leadership. He’d tried to run for a position on the council, but he’d gotten few votes, and voiced his suspicions of you tampering with the election. You’d thought about it, honestly, but it hadn’t been needed in the end.

“I’m coming in! You are not too important to listen to me, no matter what you believe!” You hear the doorknob turning before you can do anything, and then footsteps march towards your office, and you realize there’s no good way to get Astarion out from under your desk before the man reaches the second door you should have locked, the first being the front door, just in case anyone had ignored the office hours listing as the fool had.

Astarion stops his licking, and you feel him draw back, his head resting on your lower thigh, and his thumbs move on your skin in what you think is supposed to be soothing. It helps, only slightly, but your heart still races as the man opens the door to your office and barges in.

“I know you rigged the election. Everyone wanted me on the council. How dare you?” Fool, as you’ve decided to call him, accuses you, red faced and angry, standing in the doorway.

“I did no such thing. Did you speak to all of the, what do we have now? Close to seven thousand, five hundred others, or did you just decide that everyone wanted you? Get out of my home, office hours are closed today.” Your voice comes out a lot more cold than you thought you were capable of, and Astarion gives your thighs a proud squeeze, and then, he leans back in, his tongue immediately finding your clit, and he starts to lick you again, slow and silent.

You bite back the sounds you’d make, and stare the man down instead, hoping he would leave. Instead, Fool glowers at you, “I didn’t need to, everyone is talking about how incompetent you are, and how someone needs to take your place, if Astarion is going to allow you to take his. Where is he anyways? What have you demanded he do while you take his job?”

Astarion’s nails dig into your thighs, and you feel anger radiating from him, but his tongue continues to work you, as if he’s unbothered, keeping his slow pace on your sensitive clit.

“Gods, you’re pathetic. I didn’t take his job, and you won’t be taking mine. Astarion is busy doing his job right now,” His hands squeeze you, and his thumbs resume their soothing patterns, apparently pleased with his job, “and I am doing mine. Get out of my home, Fool. I’m not going to spend my time arguing with a power-hungry man who barges into homes to accost the residents.”

Fool laughs without humor, and turns to look over shoulder as he yells, “Astarion! Come get your dog so we can speak like men!”

Astarion pushes your chair back slowly, and you look down at him, eyes wide. He smirks up at you, face full of rage, face still wet, and moves out from beneath your desk, standing and turning to face Fool, who looks impossibly more pale, clearly not thinking your partner would hear him, and obviously not knowing he’d been in the room at all. He raises his hands and starts to back away as Astarion starts to walk towards him, surprisingly calm steps for a man ready to kill.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea that-“

Astarion cuts him off, his voice harsh, “That I could hear you calling my partner a dog? That you walked into my house to berate my partner while thinking I was away?” He stops walking, a foot away from the man, and wipes his face with the back of his arm, the man watches his arm move, flinching, and fails to notice Astarion’s other hand going for the blade you know he’s placed in the wall behind a painting of the two of you. The painting falls to the ground as Astarion quickly puts the dagger to the man’s throat, shoving him into the doorframe with his other hand.

The man’s voice is small as he cowers, “They said you were doing your job. I didn’t know you were here or I would never-“

He’s cut off once again, this time with a deceptively genuine seeming laugh from Astarion, “I was doing my job, which you so rudely interrupted, by the way. And you shouldn’t have entered my home whether I was here or not, and you certainly shouldn’t have spoken to them that way. You’ve made a mistake- what was it you called him, darling?” He looks at you over his shoulder, and his eyes soften just slightly when he sees you.

“Fool. I can’t remember his name, Fool seemed fitting.”

Astarion throws you a smile before turning back to the man, “Ah, yes. Fool. Very fitting, don’t you think, Fool? Shut up, that was rhetorical, I don’t want to hear your voice unless it’s an apology.”

Fool looks up at him, and makes to speak, before he realizes it’s not Astarion he should apologize to, looking at you, pleading with his eyes and his voice, “I’m sorry. Please, tell him to spare me. I’ll leave, you’ll never see me again, I swear.”

“Oh, no. You didn’t want me to call the shots, remember? So I won’t, Astarion can do what he likes, just like you wanted.”

The man’s throat is slit as soon as you’re done speaking, and Astarion lets him fall, blood staining the pretty rug you’d picked out only a month ago. “On the rug? You couldn’t have gotten him into the hallway?”

“I’ll get you a new one, or maybe someone can get the stain out? I don’t know, it’s bloody now and if you’re willing, I’d very much like for you to cum.” He looks at you, blood splatter on his face, eyes dark with lust though you can sense the anger still boiling within.

“Fine, I’ll finish the last of the plans the day after tomorrow. I suppose you were very good, getting rid of my problems for me. Come here, beautiful, have your reward.”

He walks over to you quickly, and starts to drop to his knees but you stand before he can, pulling him into a kiss, blood transferring from his cheek to yours. Your leg slides between his, your body pressing against his hardening cock, and you rock against him. He moans into your mouth, his tongue pressing against your lips, asking for permission. When you grant it the kiss becomes tongue and teeth, and your hands find his hips, urging him to grind against you.

When he’s hard you pull back and he whines, but stays where he was, “My good boy, you’ve been lovely. Ask for what you want, beautiful.”

His eyes close for a second, and you watch his face and ears tint with pink as he speaks, submission like this is far from a second nature, and though he enjoys it thoroughly, it’s not hard to have him flustered, “I want to make you cum. Please. Then I want to be inside of you, however you want me.”

“You don’t want to cum first?” You tease, knowing the answer, and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t respond with the attitude you expect, instead he drops to his knees, and looks up at you expectantly. One hand goes to his hair and the other on his jaw, pulling his head back, “How do you want to make me cum, Astarion?”

“However you want, I just want you to cum, please. I already wanted that, but the way you spoke to that man- I just want to please you, please let me.” He sounds desperate, and you really shouldn’t keep teasing him, it’s unfair, but you do anyways.

“Oh, that’s very sweet, but I asked you how you wanted to do it. You should find an answer, or I’ll make myself cum while you kneel and watch. I want to hear you ask for it.” You give his head a little shake, the way one would play with a dog, and a shiver runs through him.

—

You look beautiful like this, standing above him, holding him this way, commanding his obedience. He wouldn’t do this for anyone else, but there’s something so thrilling of submitting to you, something so rewarding about the praise and touches you give him.

He sighs, flustered and turned on, and so very impatient, “I want to use my mouth again, please darling? Sit down and let me make you cum.”

“How nice of you to ask,” you taunt, “of course you can.”

You take a seat and his head is beneath your skirt immediately, his hands returning to your thighs and his nails biting into your skin. Astarion licks you fast this time, chasing your praise, chasing the reward of hearing the sounds you’ll make. His tongue flicks against your clit rapidly, applying light suction, and he moans against you when your hands grip his hair, pulling him in and grinding your face against him.

Your breathing picks up, your hips jerk against him, and he knows your close when you moan his name and keep his head still, his tongue working your clit with precision. You cum with a cry, and he licks up the wetness, savoring your taste and working you until you pull him away.

“Stand up, beautiful.” He does as he’s told, watching you catch your breath, your head thrown back and your eyes closed, and barely stops himself from touching his cock, just to get some relief.

When you’ve recovered, still red-faced and panting, you stand and go for his pants, struggling with the laces until he unties them for you, and pulling them down to his knees before urging him to sit. He looks up at you, eager and wanting, glad now more than ever that you’d picked such a large chair. He’d make fun of you at the time, but now he gets the appeal, as you remove your skirt and press your cunt against his mostly untouched cock, your knees on either side of his hips.

—

He groans beneath you, and you pull back a bit, just to watch his desperate, pleading eyes find yours, before you go back to how you were, grinding against him gently. His hands go to your hips, holding tight but not attempting to move or rush you. “Please, darling?”

Astarion’s voice is strained, and you relish in your control over him, smiling down at him and cupping his jaw, “So good if you to ask.”

His body tensed as you reach between your bodies, hand encircling his cock and lining it up with your entrance, rubbing it against yourself for a moment and letting out a little moan as you feel his hands clench tighter around you, maybe even leaving bruises on your hips. You sink down slowly, and when he’s inside you fully, you drop your head on his shoulder and listen to the whine he lets out.

“My pretty good boy, do you want to cum now?” You kiss his neck, sweet and kind despite your teasing.

“Please let me, my love.”

“Of course, beautiful. You’ve earned it.” You lick a stripe up his neck and watch him shake, before you start riding him, sparing both of you the teasing and moving your body with vigor, listening to his choked gasps and moans and whispering praise in his ear, the head of his cock ramming into that spot inside of you and causing your thighs to tremble. You won’t last long, too high strung, too sensitive after your previous orgasm.

“B-bite me, please, love.” He stumbles over his words, half from pleasure, half from the rare request, and you oblige him immediately, biting down lightly on the unscarred side of his neck, and you feel as he moans, his arms wrapping around you and his hips thrusting up into you. The angle change has you gasping, and you bite down harder as you cum around him, not breaking skin but certainly leaving a mark.

He lets out a cry, and cums inside of you, hips jerking upwards with no real pace or direction, a little whimper in his throat from the sensitivity as you continue to move on his cock, riding out your own orgasm.

—

The two of you clean eachother up and return to bed, his arm around your waist to guide you on your shaking legs. When you lay down he pulls you to him immediately, demanding your attention as if you hadn’t given him plenty all day, but you aren’t complaining.

As you both start to doze, a nap in the near future, you remember the body in your office, “You’ll need to get rid of Fool, and you promised we’d get a new rug, can we go tomorrow?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll remove our unwelcome guest, and we can go find a new rug tomorrow, but you did promise no work tomorrow, and that you’d give me plenty of attention, don’t forget.”

“How could I ever forget the demanding vampire that goes under my desk when he isn’t getting enough attention?” You ask, laughing, and he pulls you in for a kiss, a smile on his lips.

[lionneee]

Aemond finds new ways to make you come

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: p in v, smit, kissing, a*al fingering, tiny bit of degradation, Dom!Aemond, taking of sexual themes, smut.•

Modern!Aemond x Fem!Reader

She clenched her fingers tightly on the covers as every thrust Aemond did, jolted her forward. She moaned loudly, again and again, as she felt his tip rubbing her deliciously.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it… Yes, fuck- Keep squeezing me like that.” He groaned as he kept thrusting harder and harder, burning his cock in her to the very end. She fell on her elbows for the fierceness of his thrust, and she moaned again when she felt him grab her butt cheeks harshly in his hands, spreading them apart so he could see better what he was doing to her.

“You gonna cum again?” He smirked as he used his gasp on her to pull her back to meet his thrust.

“Yes, yes…” She mewled as she raised back on her hands and turned to look at him behind her. “Yes, please Aemond- I-I want it…” She moaned. Aemond looks at her, smirking darkly. He put his knee on the edge of the bed and bent down, his chest pressed against her back, he knew she loved this position. He puts a hand on the mattress, the other wrapping around her neck.

“Yeah? Then do it baby, cum on my cock.” He growled, squeezing her throat. She moans again, shutting her eyes closed, hovering his hand with hers, digging her fingernails on the back of his palm, feeling her orgasm approaching quickly. Her mouth falls open as she let out a loud long moan, as she let her hand fall back against his shoulder. His thrusts faltered, and stopped after a while, breathing heavily beside her ear. She takes long deep breaths, to recover from the strong feeling.

“You okay?” He asks after a while. She nodded and turned her head to look at him, opening her eyes. He kissed her deeply, passionately, slipping his tongue in her mouth, she put her hand on the side of his face as he resumed his thrusts, making her whine. He raises back on his feet, grabbing her hips tightly to fuck her again as he wants.

“Fuck! Aemond!” She moans, not ready for such a hard way so soon. He chuckles and slaps her butt, squeezing her butt cheek right after.

“I want to cum.” He simply said. “But you’re cumming again before I do it.” He smirks, grabbing her buttcheeks again, spreading them apart again. He lets his spit fall down on her slit, reaching quickly to where his cock was frantically pumping inside her. He moved her leg so she spread her legs wider, and he slipped his hand between their bodies to stimulate her clit with light pressed circles. She whined loudly and looked back at him.

“Aemond… I can’t anymore, you've done too much…” She pleaded as he kept thrusting. He scoffs and grabs her by her hair, pulling her back to him. It was true he put a lot of attention on her clit before, when he ate her out for something like an hour.

“Too much?” He laughed and leaned back to look at her backside move at every hit he did, as he kept pulling her back by her hair. “Babe, I haven’t even done it all.” He smirked, and he let go of her hair, letting her fall on the bed.

“Aem– Fuck, slow down…” She moaned, turning her head to the side, a bit of drool running from her mouth to the mattress. I was too much, too much for her to handle, she could feel herself on fire, but also she felt pleasure, it was all too much.

“Come on, princess, I know what you need…” He grinned devilishly as he leant down, putting his hand on the mattress for leverage. He slipped his thumb in her mouth and laughed when he saw her sucking it immediately.

“Look at you, fucking slut, You like this.” He kept pounding on her with a bit more slow thrust, but twice as hard, making her jump forward on the bed.

“Ah! Aem–mond–” She moaned even more loudly at one particular hard thrust, and she reached behind her, placing her hand on his buttoks, digging her nails in his skin. He lifted back up once his thumb was wet enough, pushing her hand away, bending her arm behind her. He then slapped her ass, leaving a red print of his hand on her.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck–” She whimpered loudly. He gripped hard her buttocks, spreading her apart once again, and spit over her slit.

“You’re gonna cum for me again.” He said, it was a statement, and he knew he would make it happen. Until she didn’t say the safe word, she was completely his to use and pleasure as he wanted. He kept his buttocks spread as he started passing his thumb over her little hole, one he hadn’t been able to own. 

Yet.

She moaned again, it wasn’t the first time he teased her like this, and he knew the idea of him touching her asshole drove her crazy. 

He started pressing the tip of his thumb on her little hole as he sped up his thrusts again. She clenched her hands into fists, one of her arms still behind her, like a good girl. Aemond pressed his thumb more forcefully, the fingertip getting inside of her for a moment. She gasped loudly and tried to raise herself on her arm, but Aemond made her fall back on the bed with a particular hard thrust.

“Aemond, what are yo– Ah!” He didn’t let her finish, he pushed his thumb completely inside her ass, hypnotized by the sight of filling her in both her holes at the same time. She moaned loudly again and again as he slowly moved his thumb as he kept his thrusts steady, fast and hard.

“You like it?” He chuckled as she saw her clench her hand on the sheets, and hit the mattress with her fist.

“I love it, I love it!” She moaned loudly. Aemond smiled, and he started feeling her clench impossibly tight on his cock, making it hard for him to move.

“Fuck— Aemond! I wanna cum, please make me cum!” She exclaimed. Aemond couldn’t help but find it amusing.

“Oh, now you can cum for me, baby?” He asks her with a grin.

“Yes! Yes, please– I want it, please!” She kept demanding so loudly that if she was in the right mind she would die of shame. “Am I making you feel that good, baby?” He smirked as he kept working his thumb in and out of her asshole slowly, letting her feel the little stretch. “You want more?” He groaned as she squeezed him again.

“Yeah– Yes, please… I want more!” She moaned as she brought both of her arms in front of her, her hands gripping the sheets to find somewhere to hold on to as she started pushing herself back against him.

“How much more?” He asked, watching his thumb entering her repeatedly.

“All of it, please, Aemond make me cum, I wanna cum!” She pleaded desperately.

“You wanna cum with my finger in your ass? Is that how much of a slut you are for me?” He growled, squeezing her buttock with his free hand, enough to leave bruises.

“Yes, please, Aemond I’m your slut– Please-” She moaned, throwing her head back to be able to catch sight of him. He put his hand on her neck, drawing her back, making her arch her back.

“Mine.” He growls. She nods repeatedly, as her body starts shaking, and she holds on to his arm for dear life, as her jaw falls open, and she lets herself go, moaning loudly without shame. Aemond felt her ass and cunt squeeze him wonderfully, and he kept moving, pushing himself inside her, feeling his own orgasm approach.

“Oh fuck– Aemond… Ah! Wait–” She whimpers as he finally cums, giving her a few last rough thrusts. He moans out loud, slipping his thumb out of her ass, gripping her hips tightly to keep her close so he won0t slip out of her. She falls face down on the bed, her body still shaking by the intense orgasm. Aemond bent down, pressing his forehead against her back, they were both sweaty and exhausted. They were breathing heavily, loudly, their mind still numb by the pleasure they just experienced. She reached for his thigh behind her and caressed it. He rose back on his knee, and pushed once more, making her whine loudly as he smirked. He slowly pulled out of her, he quickly washed his hand before going back in the bedroom and fell back on the bed, immediately pulling her in his arms.

“I love you.” He whispers, as she comfortably laid on his chest, her eyes already closed. He smiles and caresses her hair, covering them with the blanket and closing his eye as well.