#I don't usually do this to your boy promise ;-;

[blaisenova]

hello, my beautiful, awesome, coolest husband.. ♡

I demand a killer x dust fic !!! do it!!! It's an order!!

thank you ❤

your wish is my command and all that

putting this one under the cut since it's got some vulgar language and is just generally pretty toxic. y'know, it's killer and dust. all par for the course LMAO. also i would just feel bad taking up too much of someone's dashboard if they weren't interested XD

as usual, the link to this fic on ao3 will be in the reblogs, and if YOU want a fic like THIS!!! my requests are open. i cannot promise swiftness, but i do my best

please do enjoy :)

or don't. i can't make you

“Oh, lover boy!”

That lilting voice was carefully crafted to be as infuriating as it was unmistakable, and the reaction it evoked was equally instinctual; the tensing of the shoulders, and the crackle of magic. Dust didn’t have to turn around for Killer to know exactly what expression would twist his features: one of undeniable annoyance; thinly veiled fury that Killer knew exactly how to pull taut until it snapped.

The moment he laid his hand on Dust’s shoulder, the skeleton whirled around, hand wrapping around Killer’s neck as he slammed him into the wall. The impact was enough to rattle the glass lantern mounted high above them, providing a meagre amount of golden light that was just as quickly swallowed up by the castle’s darkness. 

Nevertheless, Killer didn’t even flinch. In fact, his grin widened. “Geez. Handsy today, huh?”

And, there was the snap; just as sudden and quick as it always was.

A growl erupted from Dust’s throat as his grip tightened enough to hurt. “What the fuck do you want, whore?” he snarled, sounding every bit as furious as he looked. “Haven’t you been indulged enough today?”

Indulge he had, but wasn’t indulgence the point of their missions in the first place? Nightmare had plenty of negativity to not only survive on but, also, to thrive, but that never stopped him. Plentifulness, Killer had learned, was naught but a tool through which to obtain the true ecstasy of life: shameless, unnecessary indulgence. 

Gluttony was one hell of a sin and, often, Killer found, lust went right alongside it. Pleasure of the body was far holier than pleasure of the mind, for not even the most powerful of deities could take away the physical sensation of pure instinct; not even his own, innate numbness could douse the heat sparked between one body against another (or, more, if he was really feeling shameless).

Whore, Dust had said, and wasn’t it true? 

He knew how to use his body to draw attention, and he did just that. He’d pluck the frayed string of his soul and offer it to whoever would take it so that they could pull him apart at the very seams, and, then, he’d thank them. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being unravelled, over and over again, and, so, Killer indulged in it. If that made him a whore, then he’d be one gladly.

“Oh, stop, you’re making me blush,” Killer drawled, undeterred. “I’m afraid I’m entirely insatiable, as always.”

As if disgusted – and maybe he was; Killer was never sure – Dust immediately released his grip, backing away and grimacing at his hand like it had been contaminated. Then, his vitriol turned right back towards the source, and he made a point of keeping eye contact while he wiped his hand of Killer’s filth. “Do you care about anything other than getting your dick wet?”

Absentmindedly, Killer raised a hand to rub at his neck; it would surely bruise, but it wasn’t as if he minded the idea. “Sure I do,” he hummed. “I’ve got a pussy, too.” Then, he grinned, wide and sharp. “And a mouth.”

Scoffing, a soft purple tinted Dust’s cheeks. “Didn’t have to mention your mouth with how often you fucking use it.”

“I have a lot to say,” Killer said, snickering.

“Yeah, and all of it is needlessly vulgar,” Dust hissed in return.

Gracefully, and too quickly to be stopped, Killer stepped around Dust’s frame before pushing the shorter skeleton up against the wall, switching their positions. The motion was notably more gentle than the furious pin of earlier, and Killer’s arms boxed Dust in on either side without touching. Purple rushed to the hooded skeleton’s face in an instant, and it almost would have been unnoticable in the dark shadow cast across his face if Killer hadn’t known it would be there. His fingers curled into fists against the wall while Dust’s hovered uncertainly in front of his chest, as if he hadn’t quite decided whether or not to push him away.

“I’m thinking all sorts of dirty thoughts right now, actually,” Killer finally agreed. “Wanna hear them?”

With a shaky inhale and eyelights pointedly avoiding Killer’s face, Dust nodded.

“Are you sure? They’re absolutely filthy,” he breathed.

“Just spit it out already,” Dust hissed.

And, with all the tenderness in the world, Killer took Dust’s hand into his own. Their fingers interlocked perfectly, like they were made for one another, and it would have been impossible to miss the way that Dust’s breath immediately hitched at the contact. His eyelights stared at their union with an uncharacteristic longing, and Killer relished in it. 

Then, he snickered, and the sound made Dust jump. “See?” Killer chirped. “What’d I tell you? Premarital hand holding. We’re fucking disgusting.”

The almost reverence that had beheld Dust’s expression fell away into complete and utter distaste. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Not in the slightest!” He wiggled his fingers, testingly, enjoying the feeling of them against one another. It wasn’t a new sensation, by any means, but, nevertheless, it never got old. “I mean, my god! Is this lewd or what?”

Again, Dust scoffed, though he didn’t attempt to pull away. “You’re not funny.”

“I think I’m hilarious,” Killer mewled.

Like the words were a spark to gasoline, Dust immediately bristled. His grip on Killer’s hand tightened, their bones grinding together achingly. “You’re leading me on,” he hissed. “Why? Because you think it’s funny?”

With an over-dramatic gasp, Killer placed a hand to his chest as if he’d been scorned. “I’ve never led you on. I’m just getting started.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s next? Premarital kissing?”

All at once, Killer yanked Dust’s hand, forcing him forward and against his chest. His other hand wrapped around to press against the small of Dust’s back. He smiled wickedly down at the other skeleton, and a fresh wave of flushed purple magic dusted the other’s cheeks. It was a pretty shade, Killer had to admit, and he’d always loved that wide-eyed, unabashed desire that the slightest touch seemed to elicit.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he purred. “Not before premarital eye-contact.”

“I hate you,” Dust snarled, though his furious expression was subdued.

Laughing, Killer pulled Dust along in a half-hearted, clumsy sort of dance through the hallway. The floor was plush against their feet, and the walls were too narrow to allow for any sort of grace in their movement, but it was enough to be pleasant; enough for them to dance anyway. Each time the warm, orange light of the hall’s lanterns shone onto Dust’s face, Killer drank in every expression he tried to hide beneath his hood, or harsh words, or violence, and it was enough to be pleasant; enough for it to feel like love.

Clutching tightly to Dust’s hand, he spun away, then allowed himself to be pulled back, flush with Dust’s chest as they continued down the hall, and he smiled down at him wryly. “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Dust pressed his head against Killer’s shoulder, shrouding his face from view, and, when he spoke, it was almost too quiet to be heard. “I just want this.”

Browbones furrowing, he snickered, though there was something about Dust’s tone that made his soul wobble and the sound of his laughter come out hollow. “What, terrible dancing?”

“No,” Dust immediately corrected, and there was more insistence to his tone this time. “To be held. To be with you.”

And, Killer’s smile widened. And, he ignored the way that it didn’t reach his eyes. “And, nothing more?”

“Isn’t that enough?” he asked, and it sounded like a plea. “Aren’t I enough?”

It was difficult to speak around the inexplicable knot in his throat. The one that always showed up when it came to conversations like this. “Of course you are.”

Slowly, their dance came to a stop; the hallway couldn’t go on forever, so neither could they. But, neither of them released one another, still clinging to what they could reach as if they were afraid for the dance to end. To dance without movement is simply to embrace, but there’s something more intimate about that, that Killer cannot face.

“Then, why…” Dust choked, and the words were lost, but they both knew them anyway. 

Why are there others?

Why isn’t enough enough?

Why does this have to be indulgence?

Why can’t this be love?

“Let go of me,” Killer whispered.

Dust scoffed, and there was something rueful in it. His grip on Killer’s shoulders tightened. “Thought you never led me on.”

“Get off,” he hissed, and he pushed away from Dust as if he’d been burned. Feeling the way that his bones buzzed, he couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t been. Something burned in his chest, and it must have been fire. There was no other explanation. “Go fuck someone else if you need it so bad.”

Stumbling backwards, Dust caught himself on the wall, and his eyelights glowed dangerously when he looked back up, shining ever brighter as they reflected off of unshed tears. “Fuck you,” he spat, venemous. “I’m not some fucking slut that sways his hips to get the attention of strangers. I’m not like you. I don’t need that. Enough is enough. You are enough.”

“You’re making this into something it’s not,” Killer breathed.

“Fuck you,” he repeated, even harsher. He stepped forward, and Killer fought off the instinct to step back in tandem; another dance. “Why isn’t it?”

“It can’t be,” he said.

And, there was the snap; just as sudden and quick as it always was.

Again, Killer found himself pinned to the wall by his neck, feeling an awful lot like cornered prey, with his teeth gritted into a smile. His hands wrapped around Dust’s wrist, though he didn’t attempt to pull it away. Sharp fingertips pressed into bone, almost as sharp as the look on Dust’s face; features alight with magic that sparked between his joints and made the spots where there was contact tingle unpleasantly, like a warning. Maybe it was one.

“I love you,” Dust said, and it sounded an awful lot like a damnation.

Killer didn’t answer – couldn’t find the words, or, maybe, refused to. His grip on Dust’s wrist tightened as the hand around his throat turned vice-like and stole the breath that he didn’t really need.

“Say it back,” came the demand.

With a laugh that came out more like a wheeze, Killer spat thick, black determination into Dust’s face. “Or, what?”

All at once, with a crack that Killer wasn’t sure was entirely in his head, his skull connected harshly with the wall. He bit back a noise of pain and forced it to come out as another laugh. Once the stars cleared from his vision, he was met with another furious flush of purple and white hot tears as Dust wiped at his face, and he wished that it meant anything to him.

“You think I won’t kill your little side hoes?” Dust hissed. “You think I won’t make you fuck their dust?”

Wasn’t that indulgence, too? To kill that which got in your way? It wasn’t necessary. It was strictly something done because it felt good to. Wasn’t that, by the definition of the word, indulgence? Maybe Dust hadn’t spent as much time under Nightmare’s care as Killer had, but, clearly, he’d learned something. 

Violence, which clung to indulgence’s hand in the same way that lust did; equally disgusting; equally unnecessary; equally beautiful. Killer couldn’t help but to laugh at the thought.

Dust cut him off with a growl. “Is this funny to you?”

“It is, actually,” Killer purred. “You’d find a way to be jealous of a pile of dust if I gave it attention in front of you.”

A choked sound fell from Dust’s throat, and, for just a moment, he averted his gaze, hand squeezing Killer’s neck harshly and drawing a matching noise from him. Then, it loosened, and his eyelights bore into Killer’s empty sockets once more. “I love you,” he said again. “Say it back.”

“Or, what?” Killer wheezed again, undeterred.

“Or, I’ll kill us both,” came the response.

His expression was carefully even, sockets half-lidded and mouth smoothed into a thin line. Magic crackled dangerously through his form, making his eyelights flare that same bright, terrifying purple, and the glow of his magic reflected prettily off of his tears. His touch burned like fire; the same one that burned in Killer’s chest that not even the instinctual, icy dose of panic that flared in his soul – because both of them knew that Dust wasn’t bluffing – could put out. It was perfect. Disgusting, unnecessary, beautiful indulgence.

“God, I love you,” Killer breathed.

And, in an instant, their mouths crashed together in a sloppy, desperate kiss, pressed up against the wall like art.

[rjshope]

Just in case, i'm still here x)

[silicon-tmblr]

Kokichi ??? Protag + Kaito Supreme Leader Talentswap

So we have a pretty clear lead going on in the poll right now. I'd be surprised if another choice manages to surpass this one, but if one does I'll get to that one next!

I'll start by covering my notes for the overall explanation, Ch. 1, and Ch. 2 of this concept; I thought I'd be able to do it all in one go but it's getting really long (both in word length, and in the amount of time I've spent putting this together!)

Let's get into it!

Preamble:

So Kaito has pretty insane influence over the whole DRV3 group (except Kokichi). I mean, after viewing the Chapter 3 Flashback Light, all it takes is for Kaito to say he doubts it for everyone else in the group to disbelieve it as well (...except Kokichi, because of course he doesn't care what Kaito thinks). Same with Kaito swaying everyone to use the first Flashback Light in Chapter 2. All in all... he's honestly pretty terrifying to me. And that's when he's supposed to be your ally! So with this in mind, I started thinking of a talentswap where Kaito takes on an antagonistic role as the Ultimate Supreme Leader!

In other words, the core concept behind this talentswap is: Kaito as Supreme Leader. Spoiler alert: he's terrifying

Now at the start of brainstorming this story concept, I actually did mention how "we can't ever have Kokichi as a protagonist. That just doesn't work, he's not protagonist material. It's the kinda lame thing Kokichi fans who like him too much do" and well guess what I am now

Jokes aside, this is probably the one concept where I could see a Kokichi protag working, since we'd need someone capable of standing up against Kaito to be our protagonist. The next best candidate is Kaede, I'd say, but she's had her chances (I came up with the Kaede Assassin protag talentswap before this one, too). Plus, Kokichi's talent (or rather, lack of known talent) makes him particularly vulnerable and forces him to rely more on others than he'd do otherwise, allowing him to be more protagonist-like, so to speak.

And before we get into things... I, completely on accident, set up this talentswap to be very self-indulgent. By that I mean I came up with this talentswap with my sibling Sebec and I started assigning talents and roles excitedly until Sebec pointed out "hey. Doesn't this basically set up your favourite ship?" and the realization led me to scream in agony for 30 minutes

So, without further ado...

Concept: Prologue + Ch. 1

Obviously we have the usual: wake up in a locker, meet everyone, oh my god killing game

Where things really begin to diverge is when Kaede starts trying to take charge.

In canon, during his free time events with Kaede, Kaito actually mentions that he would've started leading the group himself if Kaede hadn't beaten him to it. While she's alive, he's nice enough to not obstruct Kaede's efforts at least (although his peers bash him the whole time for seeming lazy for it)

In this talentswap, Kaito is not nearly as nice. Evidently, an Ultimate Supreme Leader with his personality wouldn't want to be shown up by any of his peers. So from here, we have a split in the group as they become divided into two; like a more extreme, exciting, and prolonged version of canon's Chapter 3.

Our two teams are as follows:

Kaito Momota, the Ultimate Supreme Leader

Maki Harukawa, the Ultimate Detective

Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Cosplayer?

Himiko Yumeno, the Ultimate Tennis Pro

Tsumugi Shirogane, the Ultimate (Makeup) Artist

Miu Iruma, the Ultimate Magician

Ryoma Hoshi, the Ultimate Anthropologist

Korekiyo Shinguji, the Ultimate Entomologist

Kirumi Tojo, the Ultimate Aikido Master

Gonta Gokuhara, the Ultimate Prisoner

and...

Kaede Akamatsu, the Ultimate Adventurer

Kokichi Oma, the Ultimate ???

Keebo, the Ultimate Inventor (still a robot, as I tend to do with my talentswaps)

Tenko Chabashira, the Ultimate Survivor

Rantaro Amami, the Ultimate Child Caregiver

Angie Yonaga, the Ultimate Maid

Turf wars!! Woohoo!!! So obviously, with Chapter 1 comes the First Blood Perk. And Kaito Momota does not like the First Blood Perk. Kaito Momota wants an exciting killing game, with an exciting class trial. Thus, he decided to cause problems on purpose.

That's right! Kaito Momota engineered the first case by targeting the Ultimate Prisoner, Gonta Gokuhara. But he can't just kill Gonta because then he'd miss the rest of the killing game! Here's where the content warning comes in; do be careful reading the next two passages (please).

Unfortunately, Mister Gokuhara is very unaware of his own strength. As in, he is prone to manslaughter level unaware. He was raised by prison family! Sometimes they went away, but they always came back... (kill me)

Kaito, being a benevolent Supreme Leader who spreads the truth, took it upon himself to inform Gonta that he was a danger to society. And with this knowledge, Gonta took his life into his own hands; thus bypassing the First Blood Perk.

(I think??? this is dark humour??? god I feel like a sadist right now)

In the first class trial, Kaito insinuates that the culprit must be someone who wants the whole group dead, hence they didn't take the First Blood Perk. This leads Maki to point the direction of doubt towards Tenko, the Ultimate Survivor. Unlike canon's Rantaro, Survivor Tenko had full knowledge of what being the Ultimate Survivor meant. Alongside that, she shared that knowledge with the group. Maki reasons that the Ultimate Survivor doesn't just want to escape the killing game; rather, they play the game to win.

So from there Kokichi and co. have to fight back and reveal the truth, etc. Though I don't have details brainstormed for this segment, I would like to throw in that Kokichi's class trial gameplay would feature a lie detection mechanic; ironically, this would replace V3's gameplay element of lying, meaning Kokichi doesn't end up lying in class trials. Fun, huh?

I envisioned that you'd be prompted to pick out a statement as a lie out of a section of the trial's transcript, so to speak, but could pick many of the statements with only one being correct. Other statements would send you down winding branching paths, with some leading back to the correct path after detecting enough lies, and some being dead ends which might give a clue to the right answer. Kind of like extreme versions of the back routes.

On to Chapter 2!

After the first class trial, Kokichi heads out for a walk in the courtyard at night, as he is wont to do. For some reason he's really restless at night. Never really feels like sleeping.

Now, what Kokichi doesn't know is that someone's watching him!! That someone is on the second floor of the academy, and they are an excellent sniper. This would be the Ultimate Assassin, Shuichi Saihara, who used his skill in disguise to claim the title of Ultimate Cosplayer. Mister Saihara has been put up to eliminating Kokichi by none other than Kaito Momota. Our assassin friend figures he can just put a few bullets through Kokichi and call it a day.

So he shoots him once.

Kokichi seems rather resilient, though, and isn't knocked down.

So Shuichi shoots him again. And again. He shoots Kokichi through the head. He has to be dead now, he's even fallen onto the ground.

So Shuichi stops shooting and leaves to retrieve Kokichi's body, hoping he can hide it to avoid a class trial.

...Kokichi is not dead.

Mostly because he was never alive to begin with.

When Shuichi stops shooting him, Kokichi drags himself to the dorms and knocks on the Ultimate Inventor, Keebo's, door.

And y'know what Keebo says to him?

"... Y-you... are not human."

"Yeah, I kinda noticed."

Kokichi Oma is actually the Ultimate Robot, so realistic that he could pass for human. And Keebo finds that not only has he sustained heavy damage from being shot a couple dozen times, he is also low on battery. It's a good thing he figured out he was a robot before he ran out of power.

Apparently that's the most notable event of Chapter 2. I wrote in my notes that Rantaro was killed, but I didn't specify by whom; just know that it's someone on Kaito's side.

[yuujispinkhair]

Rough Mission -> Rough Sex

You always offer Yuuji comfort with your hugs, your kisses, and your words of reassurance. But on the nights when he comes home covered in blood and with that strange look in his eyes, you know that there is only one thing that helps him feel ok again: Sex. And not the sweet love-making kind, but the feral, rough-fucking kind, where Yuuji can let all his pain and anger out.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut Word Count: 1k Warnings: 18+, smut, rough sex, creampie, squirting, biting. Yuuji and reader are in a loving relationship and everything happens with reader's consent. All characters are of age. Divider by @/cafekitsune

The first time it happens, Yuuji tries to flee from you, walking past you with that haunted look on his face, and disappearing in the bathroom, where you find him a minute later, slumped against the wall, breathing harshly, with his eyes pressed shut, and his pants pushed down, his fat throbbing cock in his hand, jacking off furiously in a desperate attempt to get his mind off the horrible mission.

"Yuuji, what are you doing? Why are you here all alone? Let me..."

Golden eyes fly open and stare at you with a mix of pain and despair and something else. A feral glint you have never seen in Yuuji's eyes before. Even his voice sounds different, a low, barely restrained growl,

"Please, stay away... I don't think I can hold back when I'm in this state. Please, baby."

And you realize what the problem is. Oh, sweet Yuuji. Such a hero. So caring and selfless to a fault. He's scared to touch you because he's scared of his own strength. Scared to be too rough with you now that he's losing control.

But you're having none of it. You don't run. You walk over to the boy you love. You tilt your head to look up at him and cup his cheek tenderly while your other hand wraps around his rock-hard cock and pumps it in your fist, milking fat globs of pre-cum out of Yuuji's swollen, dark-pink tip as you tell him,

"I love you, baby. Just fuck all your troubles into me. I promise you it's ok. Please don't hold back."

And Yuuji growls. He really growls, and you know his resolve is slipping.

He fucks you hard on the bathroom floor, rutting into you like an animal in heat, growling and sobbing while he presses you down with his heavy body, taking you over and over again until he has fucked it all out, has fucked all his pain and anger into your spasming cunt.

After that night, he doesn't try to run from you anymore. He comes to you eagerly, seeking the comfort of your body. Seeking the sweet relief he can find in your arms and in your tight pussy.

The moment Yuuji walks into your apartment, you can already see when a mission was a rough one. His golden eyes are on you with that feral glint in them, his broad chest heaving, and his hands balled into fists as he strides toward you like a tiger on the prowl. So strong, so buff, so deadly. You are so wet for him that you don't just soak your panties but also your pajama shorts.

"Come here, Yuu. Fuck me, baby. Be as rough as you need."

He is on you in a split second, growling in the back of his throat as he presses his lips against yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. You still gasp anytime Yuuji lets you get a taste of his superhuman strength and speed. When he rips your clothes off, tearing at them with his strong hands in his urgent need to get you naked and sink his needy cock into your tight cunt and fuck all his anger into you.

His clothes follow a moment later, dropping to the floor in ripped pieces, exposing Yuuji's tall, buff body to you. His buff muscles are flexed, veins standing out from all the adrenaline still pumping through his body. He looks even bigger than usual, so strong, so feral, so fucking sexy.

You moan as Yuuji manhandles you, his large, strong hands flipping you onto your stomach and pushing your head down. A hard slap lands on your ass, and you hear Yuuji growl, followed by a hoarse,

"Fuck! I need you, baby, need to fuck you hard. Please... can I please?"

His fat cock is leaking pre-cum all over your ass in his need to fuck you. He wouldn't even have to ask. You will always give him anything he needs. You push yourself on your knees, ass up, face down, Yuuji's favorite position, offering yourself to him, moaning his name, and telling him to take you as hard as he needs.

And he does.

The growled "Thank you" has barely left Yuuji's lips when he already slams his thick needy cock deep into your soaked cunt with a brutal snap of his hips that makes both of you cry out loudly. Yuuji apologizes even while he grabs your hips and pulls you toward him, rolling his hips against you, fucking you open with hard, deep thrusts that knock the air out of you.

And from now on, it's rough fucking in the most primal way. The headboard is hitting the wall loudly with every hard snap of Yuuji's hips. His grunts and sobs fill the room, just like the wet noises of his fat cock pistoning in and out of your creamy cunt.

It's rough, it's loud, it's messy. Yuuji doesn't hold back anymore, and neither do you. You cream all over his cock several times, shameless and eager, unable to stop yourself from squirting when his swollen cockhead overstimulates your g-spot and the rough slaps of Yuuji's heavy balls against your swollen clit make you keen.

And he cums in you over and over again, not even pulling out in between, cock staying hard all the time because of his insane stamina, fucking you rough into the mattress while his large hands hold you in place and your name falls from his lips like a prayer.

You are both in a frenzy. Both like two animals in heat. Chasing one orgasm after the next.

You push yourself up, reaching frantically behind you to grab Yuuji's hair and moan his name with a voice hoarse from all the loud moaning and squealing, growling just like him as you give yourself over to the most primal need, screaming his name when he rams his fat, angry cock even deeper into you.

Yuuji's muscular arms wrap around you, his large, calloused hands kneading your tits roughly while he fucks you hard. And you urge him on, so eager to make him nut again, to make him forget anything else but the feeling of cumming in you and pulsing his hot seed into your tight cunt.

"Yes, baby, like that, oh god! Fuck me harder, Yuuji! Fuck it all into me, baby!"

Yuuji's teeth close around your shoulder, biting you just like he bites his enemies in the heat of battle. Leaving a mark in the shape of his teeth that you will carry for the rest of your life. He growls and sobs, desperate and horny, even as his hot tears drip down onto your naked body, running down between your tits that jiggle from Yuuji's hard thrusts.

"Fuck! Fuck yes! Thank you, baby, thank... fuck!! Gonna cum again!"

You feel him throb in you, filling you with another thick load of his hot cum, and you follow him a second later. Your cunt clenches wildly around Yuuji's fat, veiny cock, gushing over him and spraying your squirt all over the bed.

You mewl weakly as Yuuji finally slumps against you, his firm pecs and abs pressing against your sweaty skin, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you, this time in a loving embrace. His tall, muscular body embraces you, and his warm lips are on your neck, trailing tender kisses over the fresh bite mark he left, offering his love and care to you now that he feels better.

And you kiss him sweetly, moaning at the feeling of your cunt pulsing around Yuuji's gradually softening cock. There's a tender smile on Yuuji's face when he tells you he loves you. And you caress his hair and tell him you'll always be there for him. Any way he needs you. It's ok. Rough mission, rough sex.

FERAL YUUJI DRIVES ME FERAL TOO 💗💗 I love seeing him fight and get angry, but it also makes me yearn so much for him and want to comfort him. So yeah, he could get anything he needs, anytime he needs and as often as he needs it. I am so in love aaahh 💗

I hope you liked this horny little story about comforting Yuuji with sex ;) Please let me know what you think and scream with me about our fave hero!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[chuluoyi]

✎ sweet felicity

- gojo satoru x reader

what do you get the man who already has everything for his birthday?

genre: teeth-rotting fluff and comfort because no—i can't make his birthday angsty ok

note: so this is my entry for the birthday boy <3 this takes place immediately after daddy-to-be, where the first years are still yuta, maki, panda and toge

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Honestly? Satoru wondered about it a lot these days.

He already has everything he wanted—unparalleled cursed technique, a fairly happy life, a pretty wife, and just recently, a kid on the way.

But his birthday was in a week and it was as clear as a day that you were planning something for him.

“Come on, you can't fool me, sweets.”

He noticed that you had started waking up earlier than usual. Initially, he thought it was due to your morning sickness, but it turned out you were sneaking away to another room for an hour or two and only came out when it was around breakfast time.

Did you really think he wouldn't catch on? Satoru found himself torn between concern and amusement. He didn't want you to strain yourself—especially after your recent fainting spells—and yet a part of him was over the moon by the fact that you did it for him.

His eyes crinkled, twinkling with affection. “You're planning something for my birthday in the mornings lately. That's sweet, but you don't have to, really.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you so sure that it's for your birthday? I never said anything."

"Well, what else could it be? Unless you're cheating on me at six in the morning—"

"I have your spawn inside me, Gojo Satoru—"

"Don't call it ‘spawn’!" Satoru interjected with a theatrical gasp. "It's our very own little munchkin! Our love! Love!"

This was so ridiculous and you couldn't help yourself from giggling. And seeing you like that softened something inside him.

"Really, don't push yourself too hard," he said with a pout, resigned. "You need lots and lots of sleep."

"I'm not a baby, Satoru."

"Half of you is, so it makes you one!"

He was dramatic, but it was his own way to care because your husband was just wired that way.

You sighed, relenting. “Okay, okay… I know my limits. I will stop when I don't feel well, yeah? Besides, I won't have time to do it except in the mornings because I still have classes to teach.” It seemed like he wasn’t satisfied with your answer so you added, “Just so you know, it's something I enjoy too.”

"Hmph," Satoru huffed, eyeing you petulantly. "It'd better be good, or I'll spank you."

If it were physically possible for your eyes to roll a full 360 degrees into the back of your head and back, they definitely would have. "Oh, you will adore it, I promise."

Well, it wasn't a part of the plan, but now that he had asked for it, you'd definitely add a twist in his gift...

Satoru connected the dots instantly when he saw yarn and needles—what else were you doing aside from knitting?

His sweet wife, who woke up early just to make a handmade gift for his birthday—ahh, his heart could've burst. It was so cute and so you, the warmhearted being that you were.

He would go back early today, he decided, as he strolled the halls of the Jujutsu High with a cheerful tune. You were certainly waiting back at home and he would shower you with love and praise just for your efforts alone these past few days.

And so, he would have never expected that when he received a call from Nanami that afternoon, his world would utterly shatter in the most terrifying way.

“Gojo-san, please, you must come back.” Nanami was always steadfast even in the direst situations. And yet, now he was breathing hard, and panicking. “Something happened. You must go back to your residence—”

In that moment all he could think of was you and his baby. His entire world. Were you hurt?

He didn’t dwell on it—or rather, he couldn’t. His fingers went to rip his blindfold off as a sense of exponential dread creeped in and threatened to engulf him whole—a very, very strange, unfamiliar feeling to him—and he teleported back to his haven in a blink of an eye.

He had been ready to unleash hell, to see you lying on your own pool of blood, or anything. No, that was something he could never be ready for, but he would somehow make it right—

“Ooh, there he is!”

“Already?!”

“Nevermind—”

—and suddenly, he was swept into a whirlwind of confusion and commotion.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GOJO-SENSEI!”

Today is December 7.

It took a while for Satoru to discern everything, with his pulsating heartbeats and the rush of emotions that overwhelmed him. His eyes darted from each and every face who were suddenly in his house, searching for yours—

“Satoru!” you greeted him from behind Nanami, radiantly beaming, and only then could he finally breathe. You are safe—you’re well—

You had meant for it as a joke, a little payback for all the grievances he had caused you—and let’s not forget, Nanami—but you immediately regretted it when you had a look over the absolute terror in his heavenly blue eyes that you loved so much.

You had seen this once, before, when he proposed to you.

“Satoru.” You waltzed towards him, gently cradling his stunned face in your hands. “Hey,” you coaxed him with an apologetic smile, reassuring him of your presence.

Satoru looked at you squarely in the eyes, and as he fully took in the sight of you, he let out a shuddering breath and pulled you close with a firm arm around your waist and and the other around your back.

“You evil woman,” he murmured in your ears, and you could feel the slight tremble of his body and the way his heart was still thumping wildly inside his sturdy chest, which made you feel even more sorry.

“Whoa, that got you good, huh?” Panda remarked with a bemused grin.

“As expected,” Megumi snorted.

“Salmon! Salmon!”

“Ehh, that’s actually sweet…” Maki noted thoughtfully. “I would have never expected him to drop everything that fast just to go back here only after a suspicious phone call—”

“Of course he would!” Yuta rebuked with pride. “It’s his wife after all! And Nanami-san truly did a really convincing job at it!”

Nanami. Satoru casted a stern glare toward his junior, while the man in question awkwardly coughed. How did you even involve him in this?

Nah, he would deal with him later.

Despite the scare that got him good, your little plan commenced as it should. The closest of his friends and students were there to throw him this silly birthday party, as well as shower him with a plethora of gifts.

You had managed to round up his students to write birthday wishes for him in a scrap book filled with various photographs throughout the past year. This is sweet, he thought.

And one note tugged at his heartstrings the most:

Thank you, sensei, for everything — Yuta.

If anything he did ever made an impact on those young sorcerers, then Satoru was wholeheartedly glad. He wanted them to grow and made their own path in this unforgiving world, and their gratitude stirred a profound sense of relief within him.

“Here.” He was genuinely surprised when Megumi abruptly pushed a long, thin box toward him next, shyly averting his gaze. “Happy birthday.”

A fountain pen. It must have costed him some. It was strange, but Satoru felt oddly emotional.

The kid was barely six when he first approached him. He was prickly and sour and definitely wasn't welcoming. And then, he had matured right before his eyes. Satoru couldn’t help ruffling his hair vigorously and snickered, disregarding the scowl directed his way.

Nanami extended his well-wishes, and even though he still had a score to settle with him later, he was happy to have him here. Shoko couldn’t come but she left you with a recorded message.

“Happy birthday, Gojo, idiot,” Shoko was grinning in the video you played. “I'm sorry I can't be there, but my wish is for you to tone down your antics. We could all use a bit less of that.”

The two remaining reminders of the bluest spring in his life. Something pricked his heart at the stark reminder that they were not whole—and if only that someone was here, they would—but the fact that these two thought of him was enough.

And now, at last, it was time for your gift. Satoru thought he knew what it was, but as he carefully opened the ivory box, a profound sense of warmth still washed over him.

Mittens, with the color of freshly fallen snow, lay in the box—two pairs in total. One was remarkably tiny, seemingly tailored for a baby, while the other was notably larger, undoubtedly meant for him.

You. Him. The baby. By this time next year, there would be three of you. The happy picture of all of you together in near future was a gift in and of itself. You two are his everything.

Satoru went by his instincts and grasped your arm, crashing his lips against yours ardently, beaming with the broadest grin. He paid no heed to the squeals and disapproving glances from everyone around, as he felt entitled to do so—declaring his love boldly so you would know… that he was utterly, hopelessly in love with you.

That he was grateful for you in this otherwise dreary life.

And that if there were any other lives he might live after this ended... then he hoped the heavens would always bring you back to him—and for you to always choose him just like this, no matter what.

Epilogue

“So you really did call Nanami at six in the morning.”

Later that night, just before bed, your husband was still holding a grudge on you for frightening him back in the day, evident by the permanent purse of his lips.

You shrugged, buttoning the last button of your sleepwear. “I did… but it’s for greater purpose, so… yeah.”

“I can’t stand this. I’m suing you for collateral damage.”

You almost laughed. “Pffft—what? What damage—”

“My fragile heart! You can’t do that to me and expect I won’t charge you!”

“Well…” You noted with a meaningful smile. You couldn’t say you didn’t expect this, because Satoru always got pouty whenever he was irked in one way or another, and so in advance, you had actually been prepared for this.

You caught him off guard when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers teasing his undercut. It was a nice change of pace, seeing the faint blush coloring his cheeks as he steadied you by your waist.

“…what if I say… I still have one present left for you?”

So, what did you get a man who already has everything for his birthday?

Your whole heart, of course.

And if you were in the mood for an additional surprise, a brand new pair of lacy lingerie you had under your pajamas might do the trick.

[werecreature-addicted]

okay so what about a werewolf that struggles with cumming too fast, or at least what he considers to be ‘too fast’, and being extremely embarrassed and ashamed of it. He just cant help chasing his release once he's inside you. the look on his face of him trying to hold himself back, and that look of ‘fuckk not this again’ when he’s about to cum

reader trying to comfort him afterwards, not revealing that she's secretly reviling in the fact that he’s so desperately turned on by her that he can’t control himself. When he’s trying hard to hold back, she tries to force him over the edge. Like when he needs to take a minute break to stop himself from cumming, she does kegals when he’s still inside and him, making him cum against his will and being extremely embarrassed about it

"I-I'm sorry," your werewolf lover whimpers, his breath still ragged from his orgasm. his cock throbs inside of you as he unloads himself into your vice-like cunt. his knot twitching with needs as it swells, trapping your inside. Werewolves were supposed to have inhuman stamina, but he's lucky if he can last a few minutes inside your pussy.

It's not his fault, the second he pushes the head of his dick into your wet heat he just goes brain-dead. He's not even thinking, his body moves on his own slamming his hips against yours over and over again until he cums, which, again, is usually pretty quick. God help him if you ever try cock warming. He slides inside of you in one motion and not a second later he's babbling about how he can't actually do it, he needs to fuck you and can't just sit there.

"I'll make it up to you I promise- the second my knot goes down-" he doesn't know what he'll do, let you ride his face maybe, if he can't make you cum on his dick he can at least make you cum on his tongue.

"It's fine baby," you say. You'd never admit it, but you love how rough he fucks you, and how he's practically cumming before he's even bottomed out. it's so sexy what you can do to him. You hope that he's telling the truth when he says he's never had this problem before, you hope that your pussy is so good he can't help but cum quick.

It's so hot watching his brain turn off the moment you get his dick out of his pants. He really does fuck you like an animal, just hard and rough until he's shooting ropes inside of you. Maybe it's a bit sadistic, but you like how whiney and pathetic he gets when his head clears and he realizes you didn't get to cum.

"I can cum just like this," You reach down and start toying with your clit, reflexively your walls tightening around the cock half-hard cock still inside of you. His body goes rigid like he just got struck with lightning.

"fuck- don't do that, fucking brat," he snarls, but his growls quickly turn into soft whimpers as you keep flexing around him, your pussy sucking him deeper, if that was even possible.

"gonna cum again, f-fuck I'm going to give you all my cum, I've got so much for you," he whines

"oh no you don't, you don't get to cum twice before I've even finished once. hold it for me, maybe this will help improve your stamina," you snap back, you hold him by the back of his neck and make him look you in the eyes as you cum around his cock. He barely manages to hold on, the second he feels you flutter around him he's spilling a second load of semen into your sweet messy pussy, strings of cum leaking out the edge of his flared knot. he collapses on top of you, blurring his face in the crook of your neck.

"w-was I a good boy?" he asks, speaking directly into your skin,

"very good boy," you assure.

[erwinsvow]

Imagine if Rafe let R try a joint

Like, her brains getting all fuzzy and she's even more giggly than usual, and he's just, like enamoured. He thinks she's adorable.

"one hit, that's it-" rafe says, low and quiet in your ear.

you're curled up on his lap at the party, both of you resting on the couch while you observe the scene around you with big eyes. rafe's friends were snorting powder off of mirrors, washing it down with liquor that was definitely harder than the fruity seltzer your boyfriend allowed you to drink. rafe said you couldn't handle anything harder, and you agreed without questioning him, like you always did.

you had pointed to the white lines on the table infront of you and asked him as sweetly as you could if you could try some. kelce overheard you and starts pushing the mirror in your direction, and you look at him with a smile, before rafe stares him down and delivers a tap to your cheek. it's just to get your attention, not really to hurt you, but you feel your face flushing where he touched you when he speaks.

"hey, you don't listen to him, you listen to me, right?" you see kelce in the corner of your eye, taking the tray back and offering it to the girl next to him.

"i know, i just-"

"no, no just anything. y'can barely drink this watered-down crap without trippin' over your feet." he rests back on the sofa, hands gripping your waist and leg tightly. "wants to snort coke. you're funny, kid."

you pout, taking another sip of your drink. you're only half way through the can but your head is starting to feel fuzzy, already. you decide then and there that rafe always knows best for you, but you still want to try the things he tries, show him that you can handle it. the boys next to rafe pass a blunt over you, directly to him. when they blow out the smoke, you start coughing, but watch carefully as your boyfriend takes a long hit. just as he's about to pass it across to kelce, you catch his wrist.

"can i try that instead? please?" you try your best to straighten up, to show him you can take it and that you're not already drunk. "please," you whine, and his friends turn their head to look. you're sure that they think it's silly, the way you have to ask rafe for permission for everything and anything. you don't care, though.

"kid, stop-"

"i can take it, promise. just this time. i won't ever ask again."

that's how you had ended up like this, rafe talking into your ear while he holds the blunt to your lips.

"alright, suck in. long as you can. you're a pro at that, aren't ya?" his words make you lose your concentration, breaking into a coughing fit before you can even try to inhale.

"rafe!" you whine again, pummeling your fists into his chest, still choking on the smoke. your throat feels scratchy but you know that couldn't have been enough.

"what, kid, i gotta do everything for you?" he takes a long hit, and then grips your cheeks with his hand, forcing your mouth open and then blowing the smoke into your throat for you. then he clamps it shut, holds your shoulder while you cough, and passes the blunt along to kelce.

you cough a little, but before long, you're putty in his arms, leaning your head against his shoulder and giggling at nothing. you poke at his chest and then start playing with his chain, then his hair, and then back down to his fingers. he lets you do it, watching you play with his ring and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you're cute like this, he thinks, less shy and not as worried what everyone must think about you. he thinks he likes it, that maybe he should let you smoke with him every once in a while.

"feel good, baby?" he asks in your ear, and you squirm in his touch, pulling away before resting your head again.

"mhm. really good. this is fun. wish it wasn't a crime." he laughs, taking another sip of his beer. you try to copy him, reaching for your seltzer but knocking it over by accident.

"oops," you say with another laugh. "sorry to-wait, whose house is this?"

"c'mon kid, makin' a mess," he groans, picking up the can and watching the fizzy liquid travel.

"sorry, daddy." in your state, you don't realize how loud you said it, but even with everyone's eyes on you, you don't care much, smiling back sweetly at rafe.

"alright, we're leavin'."

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻

Promises, Promises.

warnings - smut. cursing.

I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"

Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?

"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."

The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.

"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"

He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."

"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.

"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."

"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."

You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.

"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."

"I'm... what?"

"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."

You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.

"Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."

He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.

"He's wrong."

"Is that so?"

You roll your eyes.

"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."

"And why not?"

"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."

Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.

"He's your age."

"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."

He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.

"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"

Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.

"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."

"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."

"Me too."

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.

He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.

Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.

You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.

"Strip."

You blink at him, processing.

"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."

You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.

Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.

"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"

"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."

You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.

"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."

"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."

He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"

You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"

The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.

"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."

His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.

"House first."

"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.

"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."

He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.

You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.

You'll deal with the repercussions later.

[ddejavvu]

What about spencer with a reader who is normally so independent and does everything for herself but she’s so soft for spencer and lets him dote on her and take care of her and the team is like :o bc they can’t believe she is letting someone do things for her

"I'm not a tyrant," Spencer's voice is inexhaustibly patient, and his fingers are slightly awkward as he holds them around his phone, angling it awkwardly so that you can see his upper half on face-time while he sits at his desk, "I just want you to take your medicine so that you can get better."

"I am better," You insist, your voice a far cry from its usual drawl. It's more ragged and weak, and you definitely have a stuffy nose, which indicates how untruthful your words are. Everyone knows it, most of the bullpen can hear your insistent griping, and they're beginning to feel bad for Spencer. They can't imagine how he'd gotten you to stay home today, but they're shooting each other knowing grins each time you push back against his gentle insistence.

"No, angel, you're not." Spencer croons, "You're on the mend, but you're not recovered yet. And you'll get worse if you don't take your meds. I put them on the nightstand for you, and some water. All you have to do is take them, and go back to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep!" You insist, and it's a whine- a whine! Emily's mouth splits in an incredulous grin, and a laugh threatens to tremble Derek's broad shoulders at how juvenile your attempts at protest have become. They're used to your biting words, your forceful demeanor, your inability to surrender any control, but Spencer's got you tucked into the covers begging for a kiss on the forehead.

"I've been sleeping all day, and I slept all day yesterday, and the day before that. I'm tired of sleeping. Just let me fill out some paperwork! Anything, Spence, please."

He chews on the inside of his cheek, ignoring the way that JJ giggles suspiciously with Penelope, who's leaning against the side of her desk, drawn out of her office for the spectacle.

"You can read," He relents, "And you can watch tv but only if you do it on your computer with the night light setting turned on," He narrows his eyes, taking on your rather rough persona to ensure that his orders are obeyed, "Promise?"

"Promise," You rasp, and the team can hear the smile in your voice, "Thanks, Spencer."

"Use the night light setting," He warns instead of accepting your thanks, "I'll check later to see if it's turned on!"

"Okay!" You laugh, and Spencer winces lightly as the sound morphs into a thick cough, "Okay, I'll- ah, I'll see you later, baby."

"See you later," He concedes with a fond smile, waving in addition to his verbal goodbyes, "Love you."

"Love you too," You promise, then end the call. Spencer feels the weight of everyone else's stares on him as he sets his seldom-used phone down and resumes working, refusing to acknowledge them unless they prod at him first.

"Good job, Spence," JJ congratulates, "I didn't think she'd ever take a sick day."

"I know," Emily gushes with bright eyes and a wild smile, "If I tried to tuck her in she'd probably bite me."

"Well, that's 'cause you don't have Pretty Boy's charm," Derek cracks, though the smile that he flashes Prentiss is reassurance that he's teasing Spencer more than he's teasing her, "Congrats on wearing the pants today, Reid. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause as soon as she's out of bed, she's taking the wheel again."

Spencer takes great pleasure in levelling Derek with a meaningful, "Shut up," because he's more than happy to be your passenger princess any day.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

moonlit beach

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, face sitting, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fluff, vacation, proposal, bratty!reader for the first bit lol

you walk over to the boys, already in a bad mood from having to redo your makeup as it kept looking patchy.

you step between the couches, interrupting their conversation as you stop in front of rafe. you place your hand out, looking down at your boyfriend.

“card.” it's not a request, not a question.

“what's wrong baby?” rafe coos, causing kelce to snicker at his pout.

“give me your credit card. im going to buy myself a birthday gift on your dime since you didn't get me anything.” you say, lowering your hand more to get your point across.

“baby, i told you it just got delayed. it will be here friday, i promise.” rafe takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your palm. he used to care about showing affection in front of his friends, but not anymore, his focus always solely on you whenever you're in view.

“yeah right.” you roll your eyes. “you forgot. come on, card.”

rafe reaches into his wallet with a sigh. he truly does have plans for your birthday, it just landed on an awkward day of the week for celebrations.

he places the credit card into your hand, watching you turn on your heel without another word.

“dude, just tell her you're taking her to the maldives.” kelce says, topper nodding in agreement.

“that would ruin the point of the surprise.” rafe rolls his eyes. “what, do you also want me to tell her that i bought a diamond ring and that im going to propose to her there?”

“well, guess you'll just have to deal with her being mad at you.” topper shrugs.

“it's alright, i think it's kinda hot.” rafe adjusts his pants not so subtly.

“ew, dude!” topper looks away suddenly while kelce makes a gagging motion.

--

“wake up, princess.” rafe presses kisses along the bridge of your nose until your eyes flutter open. you look happy for a split second before remembering rafe didn't get you anything for your birthday, a frown spreading across your features.

“baby.” rafe coos out, pressing a kiss to your still lips. he's planning to tell you later today so you have time to pack before the flight tomorrow evening, but rafe can't help himself, wanting to get inside of you while you're still pissed at him.

“fuck off, cameron.” you roll over, intending to get more sleep when you feel rafe push himself against you, his morning wood evident in his pants.

“come on baby, i told you ive got a really good gift for tomorrow. don't be mad.” rafe presses kisses to your shoulder, tugging the strap of your pajama shirt down to give him access to more skin.

you hate your traitorous pussy as it floods with wetness. you flip over suddenly, pushing rafe onto his back.

“you're gonna eat me out then im gonna ride you. i don't wanna hear you complain.” you say sternly. it has been a couple days since you slept with rafe on your birthday morning, happy and glowing as he gently thrusted inside of you, muttering how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.

“take those shorts off.” rafe just smirks, watching as you quickly disrobe before crawling on top of rafe. you usually would kiss him, but you bypass his lips to place your cunt down on his face, knees on either side of his head.

rafe grabs your hips, not even giving you a moment to adjust before he pulls you down onto his awaiting mouth.

you let out a moan and reach forward to grip the headboard as rafes tongue snakes through your folds before lapping at your clit.

you press yourself further down onto his face, a mess of juice and spit covering his chin and nose, but rafe couldn't care less, loving the way you take effortless control as your hips rock back and forth.

rafe pushes his tongue into your cunt, feeling the way your walls clench around him. you let out a moan as his nose bumps against your clit as he begins to thrust his tongue in and out. 

as much as you'd like to cum all over his face, you want rafes cock inside of you.

you turn suddenly, crawling down his body with your ass to his face as you pull his pajama pants down to reveal his cock, standing straight up and ready for you.

you position yourself over top, not caring when rafe whines out.

“turn around baby, i wanna see your face.”

you roll your eyes despite him not being able to see, sinking yourself down on his length with a moan.

your hips begin to buck, only focusing on your orgasm as you rub your pussy with the hand not on rafes thigh for support.

you blame having gone without an orgasm for a few days for how quickly you can feel your high building, but clearly rafe isn't far behind as his hips begin to thrust up into you.

his hands reach out to grip your ass as it bounces in front of him, the plush flesh too tempting not to touch.

you let out a growl, pushing yourself to move faster up and down on his cock until your high suddenly breeches and you fall forward into the mattress between his legs with a moan.

rafe moves quickly to his knees, pushing his cock deep inside of you as he cums as well, flooding your pussy.

“im gonna take a shower.” you say, kneeling back up as you look back at rafe. usually you love to allow him to keep his cock buried inside of you after you both cum, but not when you're mad at him.

“alright.” rafe says, sighing when you move away and his cock slips free as you climb off the bed, legs clearly tired from fucking. “just don't take too long, you have to pack.”

your footsteps stop. “pack for what?”

“im taking you to the maldives tomorrow. happy birthday.” the words barely leave rafes mouth before you're turning and jumping back onto the bed, kissing him between mumbles of thank you and how much you love him.

--

“i can't believe i was such a bitch to you and you had this planned the whole time.” you pout, burying your head further into rafes bare chest, rubbing your face against him as a cat trying to mark their scent would.

“baby, it's okay.” rafe coos out, not brave enough to say that he liked it. he likes you like this even more, glowing and happy.

“i love you.” you coo out, looking out onto the ocean, keeping your ear against his chest to hear his heartbeat, your favorite sound in the world.

“i love you too baby.” rafe runs his hand over your back, up until it meets the string of your bikini, then back down until his hands hits your bottoms, then occasionally over that to squeeze your ass. “i know i took you out for a birthday dinner back in the outer banks, but would you allow me to take you out again tonight?”

you pout, nodding quickly. “of course.” you pick your head up to press a kiss to rafes lips.

--

“how did you like the food?” rafe asks. there's really no point in questioning it, your moans every time you took a bite and asking for seconds told him everything.

“so good… can we go back there again tomorrow?” you squeeze rafes hand that's entangled with your own as you walk down the moonlit beach.

“anything you want. this trip is for you.” rafe says, hoping you can't tell that his palm is sweaty as you get closer to the spot he chose, just having to round a bushel of trees to see the lights.

he didn't expect to feel nervous, but with every step his worry builds. what if you say no? rafe knows it's ridiculous, but the small nagging voice in the back of his head is growing louder every minute.

“oh my gosh!” you squeal out as you see the string lights set up on the beach, over wooden slats placed on top of the sand for an even surface. “it's so cute!”

rafe smiles gently, glad he chose a cool color for the twinkling lights to match the moonlight. you change your path to walk around it, but rafe pulls you closer.

“rafe-” you begin to say that you probably shouldn't go onto random peoples set ups on the beach, but he just looks at you with a comforting gaze that would make you go along with anything, trusting him implicitly.

it doesn't hit you until you're under the lights. the realization suddenly sinks in as you look at rafe. he nods gently, like he knows the thoughts running through your mind.

rafe sinks to one knee, confirming your suspicion. he reaches into his pocket and delivers a beautiful speech before showing you the gleaming ring, a speech you are both bound to forget in your excitement and nerves.

“will you marry me?”

“yes!” you don't even wait for rafe to stand up, launching yourself to the ground with him as your arms fly around his shoulders. you managed to hold in tears until this point as you cry into his shoulder.

rafe holds you close, allowing you to feel every emotion in his steady arms.

“come on baby, let's make sure the ring fits.” rafe helps you stand easily before he pulls the ring out of the box, managing to snap it closed when you flung yourself on him so it didn't get lost in the sand.

you hold your hand out, a fresh batch of tears coming as rafe slides the ring onto your finger, hoping the photographers hidden in the treeline got good shots.

“oh my god, we are gonna get married!” you squeal out as it hits you all over again.

“you're gonna be my wife.” rafe smiles as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“im gonna get to call you husband.” tears flood in your eyes as you kiss him again, again, and again.

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[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Burns Like Rum

Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav

Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.

Word Count: 7,840 words

Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet

18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock

Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.

The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.

He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.

It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.

But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.

You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.

"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.

Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.

And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.

You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.

"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.

"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.

"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"

You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.

"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"

Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."

She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."

You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."

You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.

It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.

The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.

She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.

"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."

"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.

She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.

You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"

"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.

But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"

"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."

Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.

Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.

He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.

You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."

From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."

He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."

"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.

"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."

You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."

"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.

You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.

Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"

"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.

Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"

"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.

He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.

"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable

"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."

He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.

"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.

Astarion sighed. "...Night."

~❊~

You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.

You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.

"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.

"Stop what?"

"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.

Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"

"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."

You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"

Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."

You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"

"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."

You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.

His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.

"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."

"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"

Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.

"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.

Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.

"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"

"I could go for a little," you said.

Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.

You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.

He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.

"You're starving, aren't you?"

"You have no idea," he whispered.

"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."

Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"

You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."

His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"

A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.

Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."

"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.

He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."

~❊~

Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.

You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.

You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."

Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.

He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.

A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"

You nodded. "Just a bit."

Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."

You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.

"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.

He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.

"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"

Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."

Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.

"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.

"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.

You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.

It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.

Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"

You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.

The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.

"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.

You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.

Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"

You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."

"Are you ready?"

You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.

Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.

One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"

"Please do," you said.

"Arms up."

He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.

"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.

"Yes, dear?"

You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."

He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.

"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.

You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.

"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.

You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"

"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."

Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.

Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.

The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.

"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"

You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.

Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.

Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.

He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.

Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.

Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.

"Look at you," he whispered.

The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.

He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.

He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.

You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.

"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."

You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.

You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.

"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.

He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.

"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.

He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.

"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."

Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.

He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.

You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.

Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.

Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"

"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.

He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."

He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.

You smiled. "There's more where that came from."

Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.

You nodded. "I can take a few more."

He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."

You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."

The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."

He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.

Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.

He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.

"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.

You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."

The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."

You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."

He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."

You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"

Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.

"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.

Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.

You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.

You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.

"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.

He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.

Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.

Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.

The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.

Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.

You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.

But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.

He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"

You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.

"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."

He snorted. "Excuse you!"

"It's all over your face!"

He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."

Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."

He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.

"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.

"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"

Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."

You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.

"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.

You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"

The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.

"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."

He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."

You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.

His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.

His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."

You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."

Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.

"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."

He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.

You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.

When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."

You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."

You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."

He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."

Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.

You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.

He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"

~❊~

You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.

Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.

Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.

You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.

You were wrong.

Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.

"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.

"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"

You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"

She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"

"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."

She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."

You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.

You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.

Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"

You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"

"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"

You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."

Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.

"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.

Astarion smirked.

"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."

He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.

Karlach squeaked.

"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."

"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."

You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"

Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.

A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.

"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.

You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."

Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"

Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"

"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."

"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."

☞ ❊ ☜

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin

part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  happy sunday! here's another assortment of smut / nsfw dialogue prompts but with more explicit language. a dirtier sequel to my other, more subtle, smut prompt list. please do not interact if you are under eighteen. )

❛ you can't expect me to do all the work. i want to see what that pretty mouth of yours can do. ❜

❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜

❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜

❛ i want you to fuck me so badly. ❜

❛ do you really think you’re in a position to give orders? ❜

❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜

❛ you can call me whatever you want, baby. ❜

❛ be good, and i'll fuck you / let you fuck me. ❜

❛ we're going to fuck right here? what if someone sees us? ❜

❛ that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me. ❜

❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜

❛ your body was made for mine. ❜

❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜

❛ you want gentle? wrong fucking address. ❜

❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜

❛ it's my thigh or nothing. i'm not helping you get off. ❜

❛ i'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜

❛ i don't care if someone sees us. i need you, now. ❜

❛ i can see you enjoy having the upper hand for once. ❜

❛ you're such a fucking tease, you know that? ❜

❛ let me come in you, please. i want to fill you up. ❜

❛ come in me. i need you to fill me up. ❜

❛ now, i'll ask again, are you going to be good for me? ❜

❛ we both know how much you're going to enjoy this. ❜

❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜

❛ you can take my clothes off for me. ❜

❛ begging is a good look for you. ❜

❛ i'll take good care of you, i promise. ❜

❛ i'd say you need someone to put you in your place. ❜

❛ so good for me. look how much you came. ❜

❛ i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me. ❜

❛ it made them hard to see me bleed. just like it's making you hard. ❜

❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜

❛ i want to see how pretty you look with your lips around my dick / strap. ❜

❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜

❛ you're so good for me, so fucking good around me, fucking made for me. ❜

❛ you came so fast, i barely even touched you. ❜

❛ do what you want, but you'd better make it good or i'll kill you. ❜

❛ as much as i'd love to have you choking on me, i'm impatient and there's something else i want more. ❜

❛ missed my touch that much, did you? ❜

❛ someone's needy. ❜

❛ you taste like heaven. ❜

❛ i need to come. please, i'll do anything. ❜

❛ i'm going to put that mouth of yours to good use. ❜

❛ you're fucking gorgeous like that, spread out like a good boy / girl who just wants to be eaten. ❜

❛ you'll be begging for me by the time i'm through with you. ❜

❛ let me stay like this in you for a little bit. ❜

❛ look at that pretty expression. i always knew you could make one. ❜

❛ was it good for you too? it's never been like that before. you've never been like this before. ❜

❛ is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them? ❜

❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜

[pinievsev]

Hi I saw you added sweet home to your list, could you do Any fic or something where the reader hurts his ankle or something and hyun soo and his monster are being overprotective please?

BOTH SIDES

Cha hyun-soo X GN! reader

Warnings: mentions of injury, S2 spoilers,kinda comedic

A/n: I know this is probably not exactly what you had in mind but I wrote it in school. Again.

Note: bold: hyun-soo monster side.

Normal: hyun-soo

Italics and (): (hyun-soo in his head )

Bold, italics and (): (hyun-soo monster in his head )

You ran after Ah-yi, who had decided she'd ran off to chase some kind of monster while hyun-soo had gone to look for necessities.

She slid under a tall metal fence, you definitely didn't fit under that. You made the drastic decision to jump over it, and as you landed, you twisted your ankle.

"Fuck." You groaned and stood up with difficulty. "Ah-yi?!" You called for the young girl you had been chasing. She appeared from behind a tree, running towards you.

"Yes?!" She asked, her adorable smile on her face. You've been calling out for her for the past half an hour. Yet that's all it took. You inhaled sharply to compose yourself.

"We need to get back home, hyun-soo will be back soon too" you tried and to your surprise she agreed fairly quickly, she yawned and made grabby hands at you.

You sighed but picked her up, hissing at the pain that shot through your ankle in the process.

It took some time, and the kid had fallen asleep in your arms but you made it. As you neared, you made out hyun-soo's voice, looking for the both of you.

You limped your way up the stairs, careful not to wake Ah-yi up. "We're here." He immediately rushed to you. "Where have you been?" He whisper yelled at you.

"She ran off to chase something." You explained handing him the child.

He carefully took her to the small room behind him and tucked her in by the corner. You followed him slowly, closing the door behind you. You sat down in the opposite corner, a groan escaping you as you felt your ankle stinging.

"Are you okay?" Hyun-soo asked, moving to sit by you "I'm fine, just hurt my ankle it'll heal." He reached out to examine it but you pulled back "let me see?." He asked as calmly as possible

You shook your head "I'm okay, really."

"Let me see." You looked up, his eyes now a piercing blue colour unlike his usual calm dark eyes.

You threw your head back, resting it on the wall "Fine." You said gesturing to your ankle.

He checked your ankle, once you Looked back down, his eyes where back to normal and he was wrapping it with some gauze and tape.

"You should be more careful out there." He noted turning to look at you once he had finished his job.

"I'm sorry I was trying to get to Ah-yi. My ankle was the least of my worries at that moment." You defended yourself.

"I understand, but if something happened to you i-" (we.) "We don't know what we'd do."

You chuckled at the "we". You'd gotten used to his monster, you treated him like a friend and You never kissed hyun-soo while he wasn't in control.

You smiled and hugged the boy "I'll be more careful then. Promise." You assured. You felt him peck your cheek, then he leaned back, eyes closed and leaned in to kiss you.

You placed a finger over his lips "open your eyes." And he did. Just as you expected they were blue. You raised an eyebrow, and in a second your hyun-soo was back.

You pecked his lips and messed his hair a bit.

(Just once!) (Actually, shut up.)

[sinsirellaxx]

Toxic!Slytherin boys when they realize that if they don't make an effort to change, they will never fully win the heart of the person they believe to be the love of their life.

Slytherin Boys – when they realize that they could lose you if they don't make an effort to change

Warnings: toxic boys, being their toxic selves.

Mattheo …

… would struggle so much. He would be in complete denial and think that everyone else was trying to force you apart until you finally broke down in front of him because of something he had said. His eyes had widened when he heard you whimper as you cried. And that was the first time he actually questioned himself.

…  was plagued by nightmares that night, when he laid in bed. Nightmares of losing you. In the morning, he had to accept the truth: He was going to lose you if he didn’t change.

… would change slowly, as it proved to be more difficult to let old habits die than he expected. He wouldn’t talk about it or apologize to you in fear of making you realize what big of an asshole he had been to you – he couldn’t risk losing you. He would only apologize and tell you he’d change if you were to fight.

Theodore …

… is confused when you angrily shut the door behind you, standing in the middle of his room, all alone, with his mouth agape.

… would immediately take it back a notch and suppress the urge to control and manipulate you.

… would apologize to you with tears in his beautiful eyes as he lifted your hands to his face to press kisses onto every single finger.

… would not be as cocky and arrogant as usual after being ignored by you for days – because for the first time ever, he was scared of losing you.

… would buy you flowers every day – he would even make the lemon biscotti his late mother used to make him to cheer him up.

“My mother used to make these for me to express her love for me and I hope it conveys the same message to you. I’m so sorry, amore. I was wrong – please forgive me.”

Lorenzo …

… would be dead-serious when he realized you were drifting away.

… would try everything to tighten his grip on you – which backfired at first. While he was trying to pull you closer, he pushed you even further away with his clinginess.

… would have to confide in his friend, for he couldn’t find a balanced way to change but he wouldn’t be satisfied with their feedback.

… in the end he would sit you down and talk to you – heart to heart. He would push aside his pride and talk about his insecurities with you and tell you that he wanted to change.

… had been scared at first – thinking you would laugh into his face. However, it seemed to be the right thing to do as you seemed to melt away at his vulnerability, throwing your arms around him in a warm embrace.

“Thank you, love. I’ll be better, I promise.”

Draco …

… panics.

… is frantic because he does not know what to do. What were you expecting of him?

… would be too proud to ask you.

… asks his mother instead, who is disappointed by her son’s behavior.

… will think about his mother’s words after the hour-long lecture that he had to sit through and will try to apply some of her advice.

… will work really hard to make things right.

“I’m sorry for neglecting your feelings, princess.”

Blaise …

… knew it was coming.

… knew that you were smart and that you would probably be fed up with him if he went too far – which he apparently did.

… he’d be at your door the next morning after the fight, ready to do whatever you asked of him.

“Babe, I truly love you – please forgive me. I know you love me too. So, please … give me another chance.”

Tom …

… refuses to change.

… does not recognize his mistakes or wrong-doings – he thinks you’re being overly sensitive and dramatic.

… is a legilimens and uses his abilities to his advantage – if he finds out that you are too weak to leave him – too in love – he’ll never change.

… however, if he is worried, he’ll entertain your wish for him to change occasionally.  Giving into some of your demands once in a while if it works out for him only to go back to his usual ways.

… will have you trapped that way. If you somehow try to leave him, he’ll still have his trusted wand to assist him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, doll. Now be a good girl and come here – you know I’d never harm you in any way.”

[erwinsvow]

drunk rafe nd shy!reader talking when he starts telling her all about his dark twisted plans of marrying her and getting her pregnant, that she’s going to be his forever. <3

"you need to sleep, rafey," you hum, trying to keep your boyfriend upright while you get him inside tannyhill.

topper had been sweet enough to drop the two of you off before heading home, knowing that you would have trouble driving rafe's truck. you had to remember to thank him tomorrow, maybe bake him some brownies, since you remembered those were his favorite last time you made them.

"wha' i need is you-" he slurs back, and you giggle. rafe never gets drunk like this, and he's usually always composed. the extra shots at the end did him in—the boys were celebrating something that didn't make much sense to you.

"what you need is an advil and some water. and greasy food tomorrow morning, don't worry, i'll make some for you."

"i know y'will." you try to sneak in, remaining as quiet as you can while you guide rafe up the stairs. you're sure everyone's asleep and though rafe's family seemed to really like you, you don't want to make a bad impression. rafe's being loud, and you pray no one wakes up while you get him into his bedroom.

finally finishing the journey up the staircase, rafe gets on his bed, struggling to untie his laces. you can't help your smile, the laugh spilling out. you never get to see him like this.

you hurry over, dropping down and taking the laces into your hands, untying them quickly. rafe kicks off his shoes and sits up on the bed, opening his arms to you. you know you should go and find the bottle of advil, but you can't resist, crawling into his lap and steadying yourself by holding onto his arms. he looks right into your eyes, something that always makes your face burn.

"you're a real good girl, y'know that?" rafe says, words a little less slurred. you smile and nod gently, at a loss for words. rafe's hand comes up to touch your jawline, holding you there a little tightly, but not painful at all. "really. mean it. you're so perfect."

"rafe-" you protest quietly, entire body flushing with a wave of heat. you're used to all kinds of praise for him, it's really commonplace for the two of you, but this feels different—feels more intimate, maybe because you know he's in the state of mind that makes you say everything you're thinking.

"no, i mean it. you're perfect for me. you always listen, always do what i say. how'd you get like that, hm?"

"i don't know," you mumble. he's drunk, so you think he won't remember. "you bring it out in me."

"good. you're so good." you smile, resting your head against his shoulder, eyes shutting while you inhale his scent. "m'gonna marry you as soon as i fuckin' can." your eyes shoot open, a laugh bubbling to the surface.

"rafe-"

"no, really. maybe i should knock you up now, make sure no one gives us any problems."

you pick your head up, looking back at your boyfriend. he seems to be in his own world, lost in his thoughts.

"that sounds good. knock you up and then marry you, and then it'll jus' be me you and the kids forever. that's right. perfect. gotta get on that." you listen with wide eyes and parted lips. even in his drunken state, he wonders if he scared you this time.

"promise?"

[sourbinnie]

☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

maknae line

a/n: first reaction ¡! i decided i would go with the "compares you" part. hope i did it well for yall and to the person who requested it, thank u!!! i'll publish maknae line whenever i'm free:]

chan ✉

arguments could get pretty heated with chan sometimes (he's a libra at the end of the day). it could get stressful since you've been going back & forth for so long now, as you tried to make him understand that he wasn't taking care of himself but it only brought back hurtful words that you were letting it pass under the excuse that he was "too tired". maybe you were too naive at that moment thinking that he would calm down and you guys would solve it like you always do.

then you heard it, he didn't say their name but you could only imagine who he was talking about at that point and time. 

"they would just leave me alone and let me be, why can't you do the same? ah right you're not them and you will never be." he said and horror washed him instantly as they realized what they did. fights were inevitable but you can always keep comments to yourself right? it was just the heat of the moment that made him slip out such cruel words. as soon as you were turning away to leave, he was trying to find his way to you but it was too late anyways. "baby nono, don't leave not right now, it's late and i was fucking stupid. i'm so fucking sorry-."

"i just need some space right now, yeah? i need to be away from you." you said and that only made him worry even more as that's the last thing he wanted right now. "just let me christopher, we'll talk when i get back." 

"don't call me that, i'm still your channie, your boyfriend and i still fucking love you. listen i'm sorry but please don't go." he said close to the tears falling from his eyes and you just shook your head as you grabbed your things and he followed you around the house like a lost puppy. "(y/n) let's work this out yeah? i'll go to the dorms tonight and you'll stay here."

eventually knowing he wouldn't give up, you just nodded as you went to your shared bedroom and sighed. letting the tears finally from your eyes and hearing the door close was enough to let your sobs out from how much those words stung in your heart.

minho ✉ 

fighting with minho wasn't easy. his witty responses and his hurtful comments always stood out like daggers in your heart. he usually didn't fight at all but when he did, most of the time he took it too far and it wasn't easy to forget what he said. as the new comeback approached, you tried your best to be supportive but when you couldn't see them on their first win, it hurt minho. he wanted you to be there, backstage or in the crowd cheering for them but he did not see you anywhere. turns out you were too late, had a "work" emergency, he called bullshit on that.

"i'm sorry min, i'll promise i'll be on the next one. my boss really needed me and-." he cut you off immediately, not wanting to hear it.

"it's fine. it's not like they would miss out on this like you did. maybe i should just get back with them." he muttered and it was enough for you to walk away from him. all the boys were there to talk to him about what just happened and why were you crying but he was completely petrified from your reaction and how you just went away without a word. "god i'm such a fucking idiot." he said as he chased after you through the hallways.

"don't even try talking to me. i get that you're fucking mad but that doesn't give you an excuse to say stuff like that." you said as you still walked away and didn't even look in his direction. minho tried to process what was happening all at once but couldn't bare to see the look in your eyes as the tears were still going down your face.

"please listen to me for a second. it was stupid that i got mad, i should've understood you from the beginning but please stay and i'll make it up to you. i promise." he said and even if it did sound sincere, you just couldn't do it.

"i'm sorry, i think i wanna be alone tonight." you said as you looked at him one last time and kissed his cheek before muttering "goodbye minho" and walking through the door. leaving a distraught and regretful minho behind.

changbin ✉ 

it wasn't rare for you to fight with changbin, what was rare was when he got mad. this time when you were at the studio, making sure 3racha were feeling well and not overworking themselves, you were met with a furious bin. it surprised you, you've never seen him mad and maybe something else was happening that you didn't know or you chose the worst time to visit the studio. whatever it was, it made you feel so small and like you were in a place you did not belong. jisung and chan weren't even there to witness it but you guessed that as soon as they heard, they left you guys alone.

"look i'm sorry. i don't know what i did wrong but that doesn't excuse your attitude and how you're treating me right now!" you said but it wasn't enough to his ears as he gave you the next words.

"god i can never say anything, at least with them they would let me express myself. i should've never broken up with them if i knew i was gonna end up with you." ouch was all that could be said about that as you nodded and felt the water in your eyes grow slowly. "shit- i'm so fucking sorry, i don't know what came over me baby."

he tried to get close to you but you just took a step back and that broke changbin's heart completely. it made him feel like a monster in front of you but he couldn't blame you for that, it was all his fault in the end. when he saw you walk away, as much as he wanted to, he decided not to follow you and let you go. he couldn't describe what he was feeling when he saw you practically run away from the building and not answer for jisung's calls since he was just walking in with chan. 

"what the fuck happened hyung?" jisung asked as he crossed his arms and that's when changbin lost the control of his tears. he wasn't one to usually cry but he was now gonna be haunted with muttering those words to you and what he made you feel in that moment.

"i fucked it up like i always do." he said brokenly.

hyunjin ✉

as much as you loved hyunjin, he got so petty in fights it was irritating. he was the definition of drama queen and he could fight on & on about the tiniest of details. like right now when you just got home and you forgot to do some things in your shared apartment. tiny things like the dishes or the laundry usually didn't piss him off but today when he got home practice and saw, in his words, that the whole house was upside down, he got stressed. 

"look i'm sorry, i forgot to do it and i know you've been busy with practice. i'll do it tomorrow since i get to go home earlier." you tried to explain but he just shook his head and crossed his arms.

"tomorrow? are you serious? they would've done it right here and now and wouldn't be putting up excuses like you're doing." he didn't even have to mention them for you to know who he was talking about. it felt like twisting the knife on the wound as you just looked at him with the most hurtful stare.

"of course they would. they didn't have a job in the first place and relied on you for everything!" you said and laughed bitterly but in a sad way. "if it's my job then it's a problem but with your job there's literally no excuse right? 'cause it's more important. grow up hyunjin." 

"look babe i'm sorry. i don't know what the fuck i was thinking when i said that." he tried to make up an excuse at the moment but he knew nothing would justify what he said and implied with his words. it was met with a sigh from you and it was your turn to shake your head. "i don't think your job is less important and i shouldn't have said what i said-."

"but you said it." you whispered and decided to head to your shared bedroom to lock the door. you needed some time alone not only because of the harsh words but because it made you process your whole relationship in a flashback.