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oddinarylani · 9 months

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'i wish you'd just care about me' arranged marriage skz.

pt 1: chan, lee know, changbin, and hyunjin.

w: blood, violence in changbin's

pt 2 is ⇀ here

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴

it wasn’t the best of circumstances. no. the day you were bathed in white, promised to a man, and walked down the aisle by your father to be given to the hands of your husband was one you spent in mourning, swallowed by grief. “i bet you’re so excited, yeah?” the makeup artist asked, brushing a pearly shade of pinkish red onto your lips. she had a soft genuine smile as she asked, surfacing you into reality from the fogginess in your head. you nod, once, “yes, i am.” you lie in an attempt to make conversation easy. most of the guests that day knew of the arrangement, but other’s hadn’t a clue - which made appearances dire to keep up with. part of you was pleased to move onto a new chapter in your life if it meant moving on from life with your parents. but the other part reminded you that you were going into a new marriage completely blind to the man you’d call your husband. you met him one singular time before changing your last name, the entirety of it was spent with your parents talking to his own - glances you cast in his direction, if only to study the face of the man you hoped to love one day.

his jaw was set coldly, eyes focused on the conversation shared between your parents. he was handsome but just stone. was anything there? you would wonder. is there a man beneath that face? the bone beneath his skin rippled in tender structure, ears pierced, nose rounded, and a heart-like shape to his mouth. while there was no longer hope to hold out for, you scrounged up a bit more in the depths of your chest in desire to love him one day. truly love him. and to be loved in return.

two months into your marriage and you still feel the brick wall dividing you from your husband. it wasn’t exhausting all the time, no. you saw him smile; a few times actually. sometimes you think of it when going to sleep. you hadn’t heard him truly laugh, but you still maintained that same hope from the first time you ever saw him that one day you’d be the reason for him to. your new routine as husband and wife took a minute to settle into; with chan slowly rising to ranks of his family’s company and your own growth in the business of your own. your days were spent at home in your office working from home, a lot of calls into business meetings that you kept your mic muted for, and phone calls to overseas clientele for holiday season.

chan would wake in the morning and rise from your shared bed quick to get ready for work, leaving you to fix coffee and shrug on a robe in the cold of your home (winters weren’t kind in the mornings) when he’d leave, you’d have a cup ready for him, cream and a sugar cube. “thank you, have a good day.” he’d wish, already halfway out the door with a small tired smile on his face. “you’re welcome, you too,” you’d say, scrolling through your phone as the door would shut.

he’d take little notice to your attempts at growing your relationship, and you hadn’t had the time to bring it up to him yet that you wanted to try to have a wonderful marriage. you’d step into the living room wearing a new dress for a banquet for the company, smile a bit wider and brighter than usual - he’d look up from the couch, phone still in hand and would give you a thin lipped smile. “you look nice.” you’d rent a movie, one he’d said he’d wanted to watch soon, and welcome him home with drinks by the couch and he’d brush it off, “ah, sorry. i have a company thing tonight. tomorrow maybe?” of course, he’d forget the next day anyway so it would all be for nothing. when he’d come home extra late and you’d be in bed, buddled in pjs in the comforter with a book and the lamp on next to you, you’d muster your best smile and set your book down. “hey, how was work?” he’d sigh, pulling the tie from his neck. “nothing new really.”

and then you’d beg yourself, beg yourself, to just answer the question of why were you in love with him?

maybe it was for all the times you’d get to see him smile, the chuckles as you’d watch a movie, the thank you’s for cooking, and everything in between. maybe you loved him for the way he stumbled into the kitchen almost late for work, his hair a bit messy and his tie disoriented and you stopped him - “wait,” you put a hand up, walking up to him to fix his tie. it was the closest you’d ever been to him besides the day you’d gotten married, you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “sorry, my hands are cold.” your voice still laced with sleep as you straightened his tie and flattened his hair. “i-it’s okay.” he assured, clearing his throat. “eat some on your way to work, coffee’s on the counter. have a good day, okay?” you push a few pieces of toast wrapped in a napkin into his hands, pointing to his coffee before turning back to the stove. “r-right. thank you, have a good day.”

that was pretty cute. you even for a moment thought there’d be hope for you, as his cheeks flushed pink when you started working on his tie. sitting at your desk in your office you’d smile at the thought before catching yourself and smacking your own cheeks.

but time was catching up with you, and the unbearable ache of loving him was almost too much for your heart to handle. you at least needed to know if he felt the same or if he ever could - but in the following days after your realization, you proved yourself right. there was no way. no way this could work out. a steady stream of emotion was constantly running through you; you couldn’t focus on work, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat - and you wondered if he even noticed. you were growing increasingly frustrated with chan, and every passing day of limited conversation, barely any eye contact, and virtually no response from chan was wearing you down. one second you were smitten, and the other you were pissed.

and it eventually all came to a halt.

the front door of your house shut loudly, louder than usual. and you had a sneaking suspicion chan hadn’t the best day at work. well. that was a shame - you were still pissed, and to think he had the audacity to come home angry from work when he could barely prove to be a communicative partner was enough to leave your blood boiling. you’d let him have it if given the chance.

“how was work.” it wasn’t so much a question as much as a routine statement. you sat on the couch, shuffling through your movies to find the one he’d been wanting to watch, which upon realization, you didn’t know why you did that when you were pissed at him.

“fine.” he stomps into your shared bedroom, yanking the tie from his throat as he did so. you roll your eyes and keep shuffling with a much heavier hand this time. when he re-emerges from the bedroom, he’s shed his tie but still has on his button-down and suit jacket on, you furrow your brows and sit up from the couch.

“what’s wrong? what happened?” you ask out of the goodness of your heart. he tosses open the fridge, sighing. “nothing. nothing happened.”

“you wanna watch that movie you said you wanted to see?” he runs his hands over his face, closing the fridge door. he looks for a moment as if he’s thinking, his hands on his hips as he swallows. “no. not tonight.” he finishes, beginning to walk out of the kitchen before you stand.

“i really really wish you just cared for me.”

it was quiet, quiet, when you said it. the words left your lips before you could realize that your vision was getting a bit glossy. he freezes in his tracks, whipping his vision towards you at the sound of your voice. there wasn’t venom to your words like you expected there would be, no. just defeat. chan hears it, he hears it in you and all of his frustration, his anger, his annoyance, just melts away. instead, his chest is swallowed with guilt.

“i try,, i try so hard to make this work, chris. i really do.” you wipe your face even though tears haven’t fallen yet, and he thinks it’s to stop them from ever doing so, at least in front of him, and his chest aches. he’s turned to face you now, just six feet away or so, and his brow softens at the sight of you.

“i cook for you and make you coffee every morning and try renting your favorite movie because you said you wanted to watch it and wear pretty things out to work events and when i go out with friends but,, you don’t,,,” you look at him when you speak, he sees that water building in your eyes and takes a step closer to you, almost wanting to reach out but stopping himself before he’s to do so. your head shakes, you sniff one more time.

“because that’s what married people do.” this time he does walk closer, you don’t move, but you don’t look him in the eye either - it seems much to hard to do when you’re on the brink of crying.

“i promised myself,,” you lift a clenched fist to his chest, tapping him once with it, your lips screwing together in frustration though your voice is still soft and tearful. “that as your wife i’d love you one day.” your hand drops from his chest, you wipe your eyes when a single tear spills over your waterline, ducking your head to do so out of his line of sight. “is it too much to ask the same from my husband.”

it’s quiet for a minute, in one way he knows everything to say. every sweet word to soothe over your aching heart, because that’s what he’s suppose to do as your husband, and there’s another part of him that has no clue what to say.

because what kind of husband is he to leave you feeling as empty as this.

“i told myself on our wedding day that,, i never wanted to be the one to make you cry.” his palms come to cup your cheeks, though his large hands end up swallowing some of your jawline and neck as well. your eyes widen a bit at the feeling, “look at me?” he asks, voice quiet. you do so with guidance from his own hands. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.” even he has some water building on his waterline, you notice. you frown, feeling his thumbs dry your under eyes.

“i never wanted to make you feel uncared for or unheard. i appreciate everything you do for me. and i’m sorry i’ve made you question if i care for you.” he wipes his thumbs under your eyes once more before his hands lower a bit. “you’re my wife. i care about you so much. and i’ll show you that, i promise.”

you talk for a little longer, but disregard the movie for the night, instead, you settle on curling up beside chris who wraps an arm around you, his cheeks a bit pink as you adjust yourself in his hold. he feels the burn of your own cheeks against his arm. “is this okay?” he asks, his opposite hand settling on your hip. you smile, “of course. i’m your wife, you can touch me. can i touch you?” he hums, scooting closer, giving you the okay to lay your arm across his midsection. you close your eyes for a moment, if only to enjoy the feeling of holding your husband for the first time. the warmth that always seems to naturally radiate off of him, the closeness of his breath, the feeling of being the only woman who gets to see him like this.

“i didn’t know you were so cuddly, mr. bang.” you smile to yourself, his hand stroking soft over your hip. “only when given the chance, mrs. bang.” he replies. “ooh,, too smooth.” you admire.

when silence encircles the both of you, and you feel sleepiness begin to creep up on you, he speaks again, “did you mean it when you said you’d learn to love me one day?” his voice is quiet, so tender - it licks at the wounds of your heart and seals them shut. your heart pounds behind your ribcage and you breathe deep to settle the rage of affection steadily brewing in you. “of course.” you reply, your face beginning to bury in his neck.

“well, that’s a shame.” you furrow your brows, opening your eyes to look up at him. before you can reply he speaks again. “because i love you now.”

𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴

“the summer berries on the bushels in the forest are getting ripe now, i brought you some.” you lift your basket, both hands wrapped around it’s weak woven handle, showcasing your proud supply of freshly picked goods. you set the basket down a moment later, your husband batting a quick eye to the basket before he looks back to his spread of books a second later. “mm.” is his only reply.

lee minho was the protector and guide of the largest castle in the northern part of your land. he was a renowned alchemist and practitioner of magic, known for being aid to a handful of people in the village you were raised in, and most notably - a fierce god of night. a vampire.

it was true the stories of bloodlust and killings that tainted centuries of vampire lore; but lee minho set out to do something different. he hadn’t a care of the human experience, which he shared with that of his ancestors, but he had no need to kill them either. animal blood tasted just as delicious as a human’s. and when befriending a human, their loyalty was like no other. so he didn’t kill them, no, he made pacts and promises, and if anything used them more like pawns but they’d die soon before he did.

and then there was you. his wife. promised to his hand by your family - a pact of sorts, one of which you both hadn’t necessarily agreed to if it wasn’t for both of your families stepping in to further push along the marriage. in a quiet candlelight scenery you were married to your now husband, and your seal of a kiss was shared. which, honestly, you didn’t regret. he was very handsome - and kissing handsome men was always a joyous occasion (well, mostly anyway)

he was rageful. not at you, maybe more to existence itself. he was never angry towards you, he never showed it, but you could see deep within the brown wash of his eyes that he was indeed an angry man. he had a hate you’d only seen a few times, and every time you looked a little too hard you felt yourself look away - to anywhere else in the room. afraid of what it meant, afraid of his own distaste.

“you’re wearing the dress.” he notes. his vision still wondering over the pages in his book. your slightly fallen expression gleams a little at his comment. “yes, of course. you bought it for me.” your hands smooth over your torso, he still doesn’t look up. your lips twist at the sight of your husband’s disinterest, but you turn to wash the berries and leave the room.

most of your marriage to minho felt like a huge disinterest on his side. he’d lived many years, this much was true. but in your short time to live, you longed for a husband who loved you; and part of you thought minho was largely incapable of this. he never showed it. he never showed anything for that matter; he was always so far away. life not only was nonexistent to him as a man, but in his very eyes. he showed not a shred of emotion, and even in your good memories with him, he showed very little. part of you blamed it on his years of living, but yet the other part of you reminded you it was all the more reason to care. every day felt like a slow drag, you weren’t really living, not really. survival maybe. but being bound to this castle with a man who rarely payed you mind left an ache worse than death. were you not to his standards? maybe that was it.

you’d shed too many tears over the situation, now every time you cry you try to pull yourself together in the face of your grief. upon talking to your family, a few members reminded you that your voice was powerful, and you should very much share your opinions to him on the matter if your marriage was to work - but that was the thing. a few months in with the man you were to learn to love, and you felt even now it was helpless. it was a sting that brought you to your knees, god how you wanted to just tell him. tell him you loved him - and hear it from his own mouth.

upon your ravage of feelings and your family’s request, you resorted to writing a letter to your husband. you surely wouldn’t have the guts to face this powerful man in person, not like this. so you took to beginning your note in scribbles in the isolated space of your bedroom.

your lips twitch in thought as you think over the contents of your letter, your hand stilling still quipped with a quill. you’re swallowed with silence in the stillness of your bedroom, word after word is brought to the front of your brain. there’s a number of things you could say, but not enough words in the world to describe how you felt.

“lee minho, i’m unhappy.” you speak aloud as you write, taking a moment to look back at your writing, quickly scribbling the line out before starting again.

“dear husband, i have a few things to bring to your attention.” you nod along as you write, happier with this line.

“i believe if we’re to work as husband and wife, we should talk more.”

“i try time and time again to gain your attention, to bring you happiness in a way i know how.”

“but,, it seems to never be enough.”

“if you don’t want me,” you pause, your fingers fumble with the quill in your hand as your palms begin to warm against the hardwood. your lips twitch again.

against all things in your brain reminding you a married couple should speak of their issues and this was a must in your relationship if either of you wish to continue - an overwhelming feeling of pure grief washes over you and your hand as you still to keep from writing.

every bright moment in your relationship flashes before your eyes like matches starting a fire. it’s so overwhelming that your voice dies, and a tight tug at the back of your throat halts you to a shred of reality you hadn’t dwelled on. you sit further back in your chair, eyes glossing over into thought - lost entirely to the contents of your brain. realization has hit you like a truck in the face of your confrontation.

because what about all of the wonderful times you’ve spent together.

what about the dancing of your wedding day, the golden burn of his watchful gaze, the presents, the meals shared, the wishes of good morning or good night? what about all of the times that kept you so closely tethered to him? what about the times that kept you in love with the man who barely spoke to you.

you take a breath - and as quiet as it would be, it’s blaringly loud in the silence of your bedroom.

“i want to love you. i do. and,, i think i do.” clarity has left your quill, and instead, you write from your heart. what you truly feel.

“i hate that you don’t notice when i try to do kind things for you.”

“i want to work in matrimony of us.”

“i know our marriage is against our wishes, but i want to make it work.”

“i just.. i just wish you cared about me.”

a hand sharply grabs your chin, pulling your gaze to meet that of your husband's golden gaze.

“not care?” he asks, his face screwed into a sort of confused expression. “not care?” he asks again as his expression contorts again, further - until his hand is tender.

you’re so sharply pulled from your own head that you’re left with whiplash. he’s heard you? where was he? did you leave the door open? your eyes are blown wide as you face him in the realization he’s heard everything.

your mouth dries as you look at him, his gaze cuts into your very being and you feel utterly frozen. “no-! i didn’t mean it-” “you do though. i’ve made you feel this way.” his gentle grip on your chin leaves you, and he shuffles away, sitting firmly on your bed. his gaze seems lost, as if he couldn’t keep up with the words you’d admitted.

“minho..” “i do care.” he cuts in. you swallow, your brows melding together as you do so. “i don’t… want you to feel this way. and i’m sorry for doing so.”

in the face of confrontation he seems genuinely distressed, not that any part of you doubted it - but it was comforting to hear the words leaving his mouth.

“if we’re to be married, i want you happy. comfortable. i don’t want you to feel bad because of me.” he explains.

“i just,, i want to work this out. i want us to talk more; tell me what makes you happy and what hurts you.” you reassure, holding onto the back of your chair as minho’s head hangs low. “i’m your wife, i want to hear all of that.” a small smile stretches across your mouth; it’s lopsided and a bit sad, but it’s there nonetheless, and the sound of your voice lets minho’s head rise as he meets your gaze once more.

he sees in you the beauty he sees across the room even as you just sit a few feet away from him. it’s overwhelming, suffocating; and part of him hates it a little bit for suffocating his heart in one swift swallow. you’re all encompassing and human - he’s learned self-control few could achieve, and yet even a few months into a marriage he didn’t agree to and he’s smitten. he wants to reach deep inside his chest and pull his heart out by it’s tethers, and apart of him wants to feel your love to the highest degree he could if just to be surrounded in heaven once more.

“were you lying then?” he pauses, hands wrung together. “when you said you loved me?” a small quirk in the corner of his mouth leaves your face and chest hot.

“i wasn’t lying.”

minho’s made home on your bed, lulled to his side as his pretty eyes wash over your face. you aren’t connected, in fact, you’re a little afraid to touch him - regardless of this fact, your wrist lifts to reach nimble fingers to his face, but you pause, your soft fingers retracting into your palm.

“touch me.” he needs. his hand cupping your own to bring to his face tenderly.

your face is flushed with a dusty pink, the feeling of his face beneath your touch lights the nerve endings in your palm alight. your brow quirks in thought, but not for a moment do you part with his sun-washed eyes.

“how did you become a vampire?” you ask quietly, your thumb strokes the soft skin beneath his eye, his hand stroking the back of your own.

“i was born into it. my family comes from a long blood-line of vampires.” you hum in response, taking a moment to study the wash of sun-like gold that overtakes your husband’s eyes. fractals of evening sun beam through the curtains in your bedroom, creating a soft sleepy haze in your room. dust is seen floating in the room in the portions of sun that reach into the room.

“you’re beautiful.” he beats you to it, realizing he too has been looking at you the entire time. you retract your hand nervously, a smile stretching across your face in sweet embarrassment. “thank you.”

“do you want to be one one day? or do you value your life?” he’s half joking, a floppy smirk on his lips as he sighs a laugh. you hum once more, looking to his mouth to see the slight glimpse of fangs visible to you.

“maybe. if it meant i got to spend more time with you, than yes.”

minho’s smirk widens, his eyes washing from your face to the curve of your jaw, to the drop of your neck. his mouth parts, his hand coming to the curve of your ribcage over your waist, his warm hand freezes you in place. he lowers his lips to the column of your neck, a lowly drunken gaze filtering over his face. “that could be arranged.” his breath meets the tender flesh of your neck before he presses your waist closer to your body, his soft lips meeting your neck in a single kiss.

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴

“be careful on the job today.” you crane your neck out of the doorway of the kitchen to look at your husband as he tightens a holster around his thigh. he looks up for a moment, face momentarily stricken with something similar to surprise at your well wishes. he looks down a moment later, checks the clip of his pistol, and then shoves it into the holster. “i will. i’ll be back tonight.” the door closes sharply behind him and you’re left in the silence of your home yet again.

there’s a pool of melted ice on top of your coffee, you take a sip anyway, the palm of your hand now wet from the sweat off the glass. in truth, you were trying. very sternly trying to make your marriage work. but with circumstances of said marriage coupled with the dangerous reality of your lifestyles, it felt like your assumed fate was dwindling before your eyes - a thin bow ready to snap under pressure.

being born into crime wasn’t all good fellas or the godfather all the time - no. it was nasty business, some of which you came to regret but again this was the only life either of you knew, leaving the business would be impossible without a gun to your head. you persevered in the face of guilt anyway, not knowing fully how your husband felt about the situation. the sound of your phone ringing brings you out of your head for a moment, leaving you rolling your eyes at the sight of your mother’s name across the vibrating screen.

“yes?’’ your coffee tastes bitter now, too much water - you pour the contents into the sink as she begins talking.

“hey hun, there’s a job tomorrow that’s opened up. one of the boys got canned, we’ll pay his bail through an anonymous source but we have to wait a few days so the cops don’t catch on. you in?” your fingers tug a coffee filter out of it’s wooden box, stuffing it into the machine as you press a button on your grinder.

“mom,” your hand comes to your eyes, rubbing them tiredly. “i told you i was out of the dirty work. i’m doing that shit anymore. and i’m severely out of practice of doing anything hefty.” you explain, the grinder stops, you pour the grounds into the coffee machine. she sighs on the other end, her voice coming through more heated now - pressure started weighing on your shoulders. she says your name with a deadly tone, it leaves you feeling as though there’s a cold metal rod stiff in your back.

“why don’t you ever look out for this family? you think you can just leave and do the bare minimum when your father and i have slaved over making a good childhood for you?” and then you’d argue back and forth until you felt like ripping your hair out and you’d finally cave and you mom would end the call sharply and once again leave you in the silence of your home that was beginning to feel more like a prison.

when you heard the beep that ended the call, you tossed your phone to the couch and let your mind wander yet again - what else was there to do in your seemingly failing marriage and rocky relationship with your parents? you hadn’t many friends unless they were in the business, and that only counted for a few really close ones. you track around your kitchen with your fingers pushed into your hairline, and your mind wanders back to something she’d said on the phone a few weeks ago.

“we found you your husband, is that not good enough for you?”

you hadn’t even the energy to put up with audacity of that claim. so you ended the call and showered, but it still ate at you greatly - because no. no it wasn’t enough. changbin, as dedicated to the lifestyle as he was, and you respected him for his commitment, was terrible at showing you what he truly felt. most conversations were barely that, mostly exchanges if anything - and the few good times you’ve had together were truly the only thing keeping you around if it wasn’t for the godforsaken hope you managed to hold onto.

you saw the good in him - the good he was capable of, and every time you’d suffocate yourself in thought about being three months in and still not working together as a married couple should, you reminded yourself of this fact. it’s what kept you in, what drew you closer to him. because what could you both be? it’s already bad enough you have feelings for the guy and he clearly didn’t feel the same way.

“fuck,, what am i gonna do.” to clear your head you showered again, tying back your wet hair and slumming around the house until changbin arrived back home when you’d be drifting off to sleep. at least you had an opportunity to clean; and when the house was clean, you felt a bit better. you were correct about changbin returning late - you heard a long sigh as he entered your bedroom, the plop of a duffel bag could be heard. when you look at the time on your phone you see it’s just past three in the morning.

“how’d it go?” you ask tiredly from the bed, the bathroom light flickers on and he raises his head a bit. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wake you.”

“it’s okay. you okay?”

“yeah. yeah, everything went fine. what’d you do today?” you see the rings of exhaustion circling his eyes as he strips off his shirt and hides the smallest of winces.

you sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes as the sink begins to run. “i talked to my mom on the phone. doing a job tomorrow night. cleaned the house though.”

“what kind of job?” he asks as he starts the shower. you talk a bit louder so he can hear you over the sound of the spray. oh he wasn’t going to like the sound of this - these kinds of jobs were everyone’s least favorite in the business.

“there’s a warehouse on fifth, when you’re leaving the downtown area. apparently some guys are trafficking there. gotta take them out.”

“shit.. be careful. small time guys have been trying to make names of themselves.”

“i know, i will be.”

careful you were, but careful was not enough. those guys holed up in that warehouse with every corner covered, not only that, but with automatic weapons with full mags, dressed in black to blend with the shadows. the job was done, the victims released into promised care and with you aid in the following days, be returned to their families or brought to homes, but not without some wounds of your own. the guys dropped you off at the back of your house, granted it was past midnight but you couldn’t be too careful. your home was secluded - but what the law knew was unbeknownst to the organization in regards to this mission in particular.

you left your weapons in the van with the promise of getting them back the next day. “c-clean the blood off it for me, would you?” you grinned, shuffling from the van with your arm slung over your partner. you lean nearly fully into his weight as he aids you in finding your back door. you bang on the big sliding window before unlocking it, letting changbin know you were home.

“we gotta get the fuck outta here. you be careful yeah? call me tomorrow morning.” the driver calls before peeling away from your home. you nod, using the wall to stumble inside your house as the living room is suddenly flooded with light, and your husband walks out of your bedroom with his phone in hand and his brows furrowed.

“changbin,,” you push the door closed, leaving bloody handprints everywhere you touched.

“fuck- okay, okay, okay- it’s alright. come here.” his outstretched hands come to wrap your arm around his shoulders and stabilize on your waist as he helps you walk to your bathroom.

hot spots of pain blossom on your waist, ribs, and leg. it’s throbbing, all encompassing, and leaves your eyes watering when changbin’s palm presses a little harshly into your side. throughout the house your gasps and groans of pain are heard, changbin is working as diligently and carefully as he can to help you to the bathroom, only imagining how much you must be hurting.

“okay, okay- i’m gonna lay you on the floor okay?” he helps you rest along the floor after he’s put some towels down, and kneels by your side before grabbing the extensive first aid kit you kept in your bathroom. you nod, closing your eyes to focus on breathing, but every breath in hurts, and every exhale throbs your wounds.

“where are you hit?” he asks, you now notice his hands are tainted with your blood in just a few splotches. he rummages through the kit, reaching for the hem of your shirt as he cuts through your gear and clothing. “m-my sides, and,, one in my left leg.”

“alright. it’s gonna be okay - let’s get you sewn up. what happened?” he asks as a way of distracting you from how bad this was about to hurt. he pours some alcohol in his hands before barring your torso to his eyes, now seeing the festering wounds.

“t-they-” you laugh because it’s hurting so bad and your eyes are getting glossy as adrenaline leaves your body. “they had automatics… every one of them was geared the fuck up. and not only that but there must’ve been twenty,, twenty five of them and five of us.”

changbin’s head slowly shakes in disappointment that you were set up that badly for failure, his haw is tight - but he remains focused on the task at hand, cleaning you up. he lifts you up with one arm and helps you shred your arms of your sleeves completely, focusing now on the wound near your ribs. “why’d they send you in with only five people? did they want you to die? fuck.”

“seems like it.” you chuckle, his hand stabilizes before he reaches into your wound with medical pliers to grab the bullet still embedded in you. your grip tightens on the towels beneath you, eyes now swimming with tears as you groan at the feeling of the tug of the pliers.

“i know, i know. you’re doing good though, talk about something. tell me about the job or- your favorite music or something.” his hands dip into a bowl of water, returning to your wound to clean you from blood and put some pressure on the wound.

“the job was shit, but,, the guys are gone. all the victims are safe and i’ll work on paper work to get them home tomorrow.” he hums, nodding. he puts a bit of topical numbing around the wound before grabbing sutures to close the open wound. “as far as music,” you laugh to yourself again, your gaze focused on the ceiling. “you trying to get to know me? didn’t think you cared so much for that.”

his hands pause. then lower. he looks at you with a kind of genuinity you didn’t expect from the man you called your husband. “of course i care. you’re my wife.”

“you’re always so focused on the work, on your job. you’re gone a lot. i can tell you care about the organization i just,, i don’t know. i always hoped you’d care for us too.”

he frowns a bit, his gaze is focused back to his hands as he threads the string more diligently through the needle. he’s paused, he has a focused expression and you can tell when you look at him he’s thinking - part of you hopes you haven’t stumped him, or made him uncomfortable - maybe you did hold out too much hope.

“i do care about us. about you. i always figured since we were arranged to be married that you wouldn’t want much to do with me.” when he returns to working on your wound you wince, eyes closing tight. he apologizes quietly, but it’s over quicker than you expected.

“i want everything to do with you, silly. you’re my husband. i want this to work between us if we’re going to be married.” your eyes are still watery and the throbbing hasn’t subsided - you wonder if part of this is delusion since your filter has seemingly disappeared in the face of pain.

he smiles, softly. “i’m sorry that i’ve made you feel that way, and hey-” his hand reaches for yours, the one that bears the ring he gifted you on the day you were married. your eyes meet his as your head lulls to the side, you grasp onto his hand as if he’d stabilize you - and he does. “i do care about you. genuinely.”

you squeeze his hand, the wash of tears that drowned your eyes from pain spill finally. “i care about you too.”

“don’t cry, silly. i’m almost done, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

after changbin coaches you through treating your wounds, he runs you a quick bath and helps you wash the dirt and sweat from your hair. it felt strange to say you felt an overwhelming trust to him - but maybe that was just the energy he exuded. he helps you to bed, and quickly showers off himself before laying next to you.

his arm wraps around you, and the pain in your side has dulled from the medicine he made you take after closing up your wounds and cleaning them. your head rests on his chest comfortably. “you never answered my question about music.” he says suddenly.

“i’ll play you all my faves tomorrow morning when you cook me breakfast because i got shot.” you grin cheekily against him.

“deal.”

𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴

“i am to be his wife.” there was no expression in the gaze you cast your parents, hands folded neatly in front of you, ever obedient in the face of nobility. before your eyes, in the face of your youth your life of freedom ever awaiting your embrace is taken from you and shackled. your life is to be given to a man you didn’t know, and when shoved his own in your hands you feel the pulse of forgotten life in your palms. there was more to say other than you didn’t want this, there was more words you could sputter in anger at your parents, other screams and cries for this to not happen, yet you swallow, let your eyes gloss over, and prepare a wedding in the following year to a man you’d meet only once before promising forever to him.

across from you at the altar he stood jaw tight, eyes glassy yet lifeless. when the wedding guests settled and your father handed you off to the prince’s hands, you breathed deep in an attempt to conceal the building tears that sparkled in your eyes. officiant you didn’t know, in the sea of people commending your marriage you knew few faces, and he spoke vows because of remembrance not because of promise. when he lifted the veil from your eyes to look at you, he for a moment faltered and his lips flattened.

you kissed him because you had to. and you slept beside him that night because you had to.

in marriage, you always imagined that life would blossom with a spark of light. as a seal to two people’s testament of their love it would grow into something truly beautiful - it would drink in the sun, bathe in the rain, paint its colors on pages and tell its story on lips through decades. as a young girl, the idea of one day marrying someone that loved you was thrilling to say the least. it was pure; and good. and every notion, every dream, every promise to your life you’d made, was stripped from you in a single evening.

you’d rise from bed when the maids would wake you to dress. you’d be dressed beside your husband, wearing the rings that testified your union, and would watch over the kingdom that would be given to your hands one day.

there was no use in trying, not even from the start.

but you wanted to love him. oh you terribly wanted to love him.

beside him you’d sleep - watching the curvature of his heart shaped lips, the breathing his body exuded - existence. how you were his without him even knowing. only in this state could you see him, really see him. the sprawl of his hair on the pillow before it was to be tied back that morning upon your wake. beautiful he was. when his eyes fluttered open, he wet his lips and you heard him speak - for the first time it felt as though it was to you.

“i’m sorry.”

for the entire rest of the day you spent in a haze in your own head.

two months have gone by, and you were achingly in love with him. but you couldn’t say the same for him; his headspace was unknown. you shared a great castle together, a smaller one just outside the village as your parents lived inside the city walls in the palace, but home felt like a restraint on you. nothing was sacred.

when you spoke, it was matters of business and a shred of the time was talk of personal matters. the only truth you spoke to hyunjin was in the hours before he’d wake when sleep would leave you too early. you tuck your folded hands together under your pillow, your eyes washing over his face as he slept. upon your movement, he turned to his side, his broad shoulders creating lines of his body beneath his sleep shirt. part of you wanted to reach out, to wrap your arms around him and tell him you believed in the both of you, but your thoughts still to silence.

“i wish you cared for me, in the way i care for you.” you mumble quietly.

“but i cannot say it yet. you’re a shadow; yet you’re sorry. i’m so confused in my love for you.”

that’s when he turned over, his eyes open. the maids walk in a second later and your wide eyes glance to them. they pause in their steps, looking between the both of you. had he heard you? surely not. you push yourself onto your elbows as he speaks to the maids, his own hands planted firmly in the mattress.

“i can dress her.”

they quickly excuse themselves after, mumbling as they leave the room hurriedly. the room stills, you’re left in the wake of his words with confusion bubbling through your head and your face suddenly flushed. he stands without another word as they’ve left the room, moving to the closet to fetch your under clothes, corset, and gown for the day.

“hyunjin,” you speak softly.

“i care greatly for you. i do, but-”

you swallow, still sitting on the bed with your legs curled beneath the covers. “you cannot dress me.” you hold a hand to pause him in his movements as he approaches with your day clothes in hand. he swallows, “you’re my wife. i can dress you. if you’d let me.”

hwang hyunjin was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen, and this he knew as well - yet the cool confidence he usually carried on his shoulders, in his handshakes, and in his voice, had dissipated. he looked at you with darting eyes that searched your own for the answers he needed, his hands gripped your dress tight.

his hand stretches out to you, offerance of aid. you look to his palm, the gentle length of his fingers, and find his exuding energy welcoming - so you take his hand. it’s warm as your skin washes over his own, his hands were smooth and embracing, and you stand before him with a sharp intake of breath.

“i’ve made you feel this way,” he begins, beginning to untie the laces that hang from the neck of your night dress. there’s a great deal of nerve vibrating through your body at the prospect of him dressing you, but regardless you let him in the wake of his tenderness. and if it meant a moment you could share closer to him - you’d take it.

“you only speak your feelings to me when you think i’m asleep.” at that your breath stills, panic settles in quietly to your bones.

“i-i’m sorry i-” “you have no need to apologize, it’s me. i’ve made you feel this way. and i’m sorry.” when your dress is removed, he kneels at your feet to gather it before letting you step into your under dress. you rest your hand on his shoulder for balance to do so.

“in truth, i can’t tell you why i love you.” he says, his hands working to tie your second layer skirt around your waist, once it’s firm and not uncomfortable, you turn your head to look at him with glossy eyes. “you cannot say such things to me and not mean it. you can’t.”

“i know i haven’t shown it, but it’s true, that i promise you.” with that, he gently guides your arms through the holes of your corset, and begins lacing it, leaving your eyes drowning in tears as your lips tremble.

“you-you haven’t shown it. how am i to know you love me or that i love you when we hardly have a relationship. you’re my husband, i want to love you as one.” you gasp as he pulls the strings to tighten it, his palm laying flat on your back as he tugs once more.

“it’s a promise i make now, to show you i do indeed love you. i want you to tell me when you’re hurting, i want to help, i want to grow with you.” his hands lay along your waist as your corset is tightened. when he rounds you, seeing your eyes fogged over, his heart pangs with guilt.

“i’m sorry, truly. that i have made you feel this way. but please, know my promise is true.” his hands come to gather yours in his grip.

you nod, wiping your face for a moment as you lift your gaze to look at him. “then i’ll tell you. i’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. i want to work to make this kingdom a happy place for our people, we must work together in that regard.”

hyunjin listens, strokes his thumbs across the backs of your hands and you speak for a while longer on your marriage, how you’re both willing to work to make your love make sense, how you wish to be a unit in making the kingdom a place of happiness for your people. he prepares for the day, wearing an outfit the same shade of off-white as your own with his long dark hair tied back into a bun.

he offers his arm to you before you both leave your bedroom, smiling softly. “thank you for talking to me.” he says, opening the door for you. “thank you for listening and talking as well. it feels nice to have this weight lifted.”

“i agree.”

sorry if hyunjin's is written weird i was listening to cornfield chase by hans zimmer and got lost in the sauce.

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getosbigballsack · 8 months

Text

𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆

𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑜 𝑆𝑢𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑢 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡. 𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓

𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑜 𝑆𝑢𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢'𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒✯

𝑊𝐶: 1.5𝑘

𝐸𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦❤︎

Breathing heavily, Gojo pulled out and then he lifted you from Geto's body. He laid you down on the bed next to Geto with cum leaking from both your abused holes.

He pulled the cover from the bed and lay next to you and quickly pulled you into his arms. He knows that once you regain consciousness, you'd be whining and crying out for their comfort. They knew you well, they have been with you for 3 years now. They knew what state you'd be in after a wild night of unforgiving sadistic playtime.

"We should switch rooms," Geto suggested as he stood up from the bed and quickly slipped on his underpants that were on the floor next to the bed.

"Just a moment," Gojo whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek and then he kissed your forehead. Geto hummed as he began to collect the stuff from the floor and neatly placed them in their respective places. He picked up the toys they both used on you from the bed, he even hung up the cane that they whipped your soft skin with.

Oh boy, they were in for a long night.

Once Geto was through with tidying up the room, he glanced over at Gojo, and without saying much, Gojo got up from the bed and lifted you in his arms. He walked with you towards the bedroom and gently laid you on the bed.

"She should be up soon," Gojo said as he stretched his arms over his head. "I'll go get the stuff and put it in the shower room, and I guess you can prepare a light meal."

"Ordering me around now," Geto chuckled as he walked towards the closet and grabbed a robe from inside. "Those were my lines, you know."

"Well, I get to call the shots too sometimes," Gojo responded as he caught a robe that Geto had tossed to him.

"I'll let that slip, just for tonight," Geto said as he walked towards Gojo and placed a kiss on his forehead. "After all you've been a good boy tonight."

Gojo blushed, mumbling a quiet thanks before he left the room and went towards the shower room. He quickly filled the crystal pool bathtub with water, then left to get the bath gel, ointments, towels, and other bath necessities. As he did so, Geto was inside the kitchen currently chopping up a few herbs to season the chicken he had cut up earlier. After he was done, he quickly grabbed a bottle of water and a few fruits from the fridge. He diced the bananas, strawberries, and oranges and then placed them inside a bowl.

He took them to the room and rested them on the nightstand beside the bed. Your eyes were still closed and your body was trembling terribly, he almost felt sorry for going overboard tonight. But then again you never used your safe word so it's okay.

He left to go finish preparing the meal, and during that time, you slowly opened your eyes. Your voice was nothing but a small whimper as you tried calling out for your lovers, but none of them came. So you laid there crying with your body feeling sore and numb, you were not able to think clearly, and you felt useless.

….

A few minutes had passed and Gojo had set everything up inside the bathroom. The large curtains inside the bathroom were open, the room was dimly lit with soft glowing blue and purple led ceiling lights, and the crystal pool bathtub was filled with water. He had towels neatly hung up on a rack, your favourite shampoo sitting outside the tub, the shower gel, and the ointments to use on your bruises after you were through with your bath.

He smiled to himself one last time before he left the bathroom to check if you were awake. Upon entering the room, he heard your soft whimpering coming from beneath the sheets he had covered you with before he left. "Sugar plum?" Gojo whispered as he moved closer to the bed and pulled the sheets from your head. A small pout formed upon his face when he saw the fresh set of tears staining your cheek, your eyes blown out wide as you stared at him.

Your lips trembled as you whispered "T - Toru," and then a cry left your lips. Gojo was quick to pull you from beneath the sheets, he was careful not to cause any more pain as he set you in his lap and peppered your face with soft kisses. Ah, a deeper head space than before, hm? He thought to himself. "You and Guru go a - away… I (sniff) scared."

"It's alright now sugar plum, Toru is here now," Gojo whispered as he continued to cradle you in his arms. He hummed a small tune as he waited for your cries to reduce to soft whimpers, and then he reached for the fruits that Geto took inside the room earlier. "You want a banana, baby?" You shook your head, yes and he smiled. He slowly fed you the fruits as he continued to hum, meanwhile Geto was in the middle of steaming a pot of rice.

"Something light huh?" He chuckled to himself. "Rice and Chicken at midnight."

"Suguru?" Gojo called out his name from inside the room. Geto turned down the flame from under the chicken and rushed to the room. “She woke up,” Gojo whispered.

“Princess?” Geto called for you as he slowly walked inside the room.

“Mhm,” you answered as you slowly chewed on another piece of banana. Geto cooed as he levelled his height with yours and kissed your forehead.

“You did so well tonight, princess. Daddy’s so proud of you,” he praised as he swiped his thumb over your cheek. They watched as you pouted cutely at them and they laughed. “Alright, I’m preparing your favourite meal.”

“Chicken?” you asked and he shook his head yes. “Mhm’ thank you.”

“Your welcome princess, now hurry up and eat your fruits. Toru’s gonna get you all cleaned up and smelling sweet for us,” Geto said and you nodded your head yes.

“Aren’t you gonna come with us?” Gojo asked as he picked up a strawberry from your bowl and slowly placed it inside your mouth.

“I would but I can’t. I’m cooking, so I’ll just quickly take a shower and finish up her meal.” Geto replied before kissing Gojo on his forehead and leaving you both to go take a shower in the guest bathroom. Meanwhile Gojo was left to care for a crying needy baby which was you.

…

“Toru?” you whimpered as you allowed your boyfriend to massage the shampoo in your hair.

“Hm? What is it, sugar plum?” Gojo asked as he smiled down at you. He watched you cutely chew on your bottom lips before pouting. “Baby what is it?”

“Do… you and guru love me?” you asked as you fiddled with your fingers.

Gojo tilted his head to the side a bit out of confusion. “What do you mean of course we love you.” he responded. “Let me wash the soap from your hair,” he said as he tilted your hair back. You sat there quietly as he washed the soap from your hair and once he was done, he grabbed the body wash, squirted a bit of soap on the loofah.

“You and guru, mad at me?” you asked as you began to wash your body with the loofah.

“Why?” Gojo asked.

“Because when we, when we were doing it… You and Guru didn’t look happy?” you whispered as you allowed Gojo to wash the soap from your body. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No you didn’t do anything wrong, sugarplum ” Gojo answered as a soft smile played upon his lips. “You were perfect tonight.”

“But why angry?” you asked him yet again.

“Hm… Suguru was angry at me because I wanted to use another toy even though you were on the brink of passing out,” Gojo explained, which caused you to fluster madly.

“Oh… so you're not mad at me?”

“Of course, how can I be mad at my pretty baby?” he cooed as he dropped the loofah in the tub and began peppering your face with light delectable kisses. “I love you and Suguru loves you too.”

“I love you and Guru too.”

“Good baby, now let's finish up here I bet you’re hungry. You’re always craving food after play time.”

…

A few minutes had passed and Gojo finally exited the bathroom with you in his arms, dressed in his clothes and now he’s currently walking towards the bed where Geto sat patiently waiting with your meal in his lap.

“Princess? Are you feeling better now? I’m sorry I was in the bathtub with you and Satoru,” Geto said in an apologetic tone as he watched as Gojo settled down beside him.

“She’s better now. She was a bit worried earlier. She thought that we were mad at her and we didn’t love her anymore but I cleared it all up,” Gojo answered.

“Awe princess, we love you so much you know that right?” Geto asked and you shook your head yes. “Good girl. I don’t want you to forget that ever ok baby.”

“Ok.”

What do u think?

𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk geto #suguru geto #getou suguru smut #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu smut #satosugu #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujustu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru fic

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lokisgoodgirl · 11 months

Text

Husband [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After a lifetime of longing, it's finally time to seal the deal. Follow on to Heirs - but can be read as a one-shot (w/c 1.8k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Asgardian HC. Fluff & Smut.

The silk chiffon of Loki’s robe tingled against his skin, sash loosely bound. There would be no guards in the corridor that stretched to his chambers. Not tonight.

Pacing barefoot across the marble floor, he noted the squeeze of a damp hand intertwined with his. Steam from the palace baths dissipated from the air with every stride. There were no words needed, just the pad of your footsteps following close behind his own.

With a nudge of his head, Loki sent a wave of seidr rolling up your bodies. You giggled quietly, the delicate sound echoing. The god threw a glance over his shoulder, seeing your newly dried hair bounce as your steps quickened. “Hurry,” you chided, stifling another giggle. Loki turned on his heels, feet squeaking on the polished floor to a stop. You collided with his chest. “You do not command me, wife,” he warned, squinting theatrically before breaking into a smile. Loki’s heart leapt at your gasping laugh as he swept you off your feet, the drape of your matching robes scratching together. Your legs hung over one elbow, his hand securely fastened around your midsection. Loki would never forget the way your pupils dilated as you stared into his eyes, the whole world growing out of focus around what was in his grasp. Around you. “I love you-” he breathed, cutting himself off by leaning to catch your lips. The heavy wooden doors to his chambers opened of their own accord, recognising their master's presence. He let his tongue explore deeper with every powerful stride towards the matrimonial bed, slow and purposeful and all-consuming. Loki stopped, breaking the kiss to take in what lay before you both as the door swung shut. Dozens of tall candles adorned the arched windows, throwing an orange glow towards the navy dusk of Asgard sprawled below, just out of sight. White fur pelts draped across his bed, neat emerald sheets replaced with luxurious folds of cream and beige. Loki’s mouth twitched in mild disapproval. “Look,” you said, excitedly patting his shoulder and nodding towards a table by the fireplace. Lit by soft flickering flame, he saw the traditional finger-food of Asgardian gentry laid out on delicate piles. Each plate more tempting than the last. “Yes, very nice,” Loki hummed feebly, giving the scene a cursory glance before his attention was drawn unavoidably back to the pulse of your neck. Furious desire was thudding in him like the drums of war. It was becoming unbearable. His cock, violently hard and swollen and aching against his stomach. It had a heartbeat. Loki tightened his grip on your body in his arms, inhaling against the angle of your jaw. He sucked at the scent of your clean skin like oxygen, drowning. “Husband?” you moaned softly. She’s impatient. Loki felt every hair on his arms erect in unison.

One of your hands moulded to his cheekbone as you pressed your forehead to his, nuzzling his mouth until he relented. Your lips working against his own, Loki made the final steps to the bed before reluctantly lowering you to the pile of furs. He retreated, drinking in every inch of flimsy white chiffon that did nothing to hide the curves beneath. How she taunts me, he thought with a smile; pulling lightly at the sash around his waist, this wife of mine. The two of you were no virgins. But tonight, it felt like it was so. Wisps of half-forgotten memories twisted deep in the god’s mind; uprooted from their slumber. And another, and another. Like they belonged to someone else.

Lovers of every rank and station, known to him in dark hallways and golden bedchambers. The half-remembrances evaporated like smoke. But none like this, he thought with a comforting smile as his chiffon robe pooled around his ankles. He could feel the warmth rising in your cheeks, radiating from the coyness of your smile. None like her. Loki clasped his hands behind his back, raising his chin. He felt your appraising gaze dart up his displayed body, a series of rapid breaths beginning to pepper the air making his heart swell. Your gentle pants fluttered against his obliques, denying yourself the taste of his skin until the hallowed words had been spoken. They caught behind his teeth. The prince felt his abdomen clench, every muscle in his body resisting the urge to fall upon you. A wild tide on rocks.

“Will you accept me as your husband to your bed this night?” he uttered, laden with ceremony. You straightened in front of him, slow hands tugging at the fastening of your robe.

“Yes, my lord,” you answered seductively, looking him dead in the eye. “I will.”

The sheer fabric began to slip from your shoulders. The exchange was a formality. A tradition. But as Loki’s fingers wrapped around his straining cock, feeling fat droplets of pre-cum roll against knuckles; he conceded it was one Asgardian tradition he was glad to keep.

With an arm outstretched, you dropped the delicate robe onto the stone floor by his feet. Loki could feel the growl building in his throat. Low, primal. A shudder rolled over his biceps as you leant back on your elbows, drawing the soles of your feet onto the bed. He let his eyes run over the lines of your body, the flex of your thighs, the plump sweetness of your curves. She will be the death of me, he thought as he inhaled a staggered breath. No, he pondered after a beat, lowering to place his palms on either side of your shoulders. She is the beginning.

His fingers trembled as he placed one hand over your heart, eyes never leaving yours. “Do you trust me?” he murmured, barely audible. You frowned, glancing to where his fingers lay. “Always,” you whispered. The skin beneath his touch glowed green as Loki’s eyes fluttered shut. He opened them tentatively, softening. “The bond of my protection,” he explained bashfully, “now, if ever you need me, I will be with you.”

His heart dropped as your face scrunched, cupping his jaw. “You were always with me,” you said softly, straining upwards to place a gentle kiss on his parted lips. And in that moment, Loki knew. He worked his mouth across the curve of your cheekbone, wordless sounds of adoration soaking every step. “Lie back,” he whispered hot in your ear. His stomach flipped, realising as you reclined against the furs that he hadn’t been this nervous since the very first time. Or perhaps, even then. The god watched your eyes widen with excitement as he nudged your legs further apart with his knees. With aching intensity, he mapped each spark in your eyes as he dragged his cock along your soaking slit from root to tip. It nudged, gently.

“Loki," you gasped quietly, arching your back in frustration. He smiled, trying to remain serious. “What, my love?” he heard himself tease, inhaling against your neck with a shameless moan. Like pollen on a breeze, he felt your words soak through his skin. Through his soul. I need you. And, Loki thought, she means it.

He wondered if anyone else ever truly had.

The god raised his head, cursing the dark curls which fell forward from his braids against your face, obscuring the view. Your fingers combed past his shoulders, pushing the veil back. “There you are,” you whispered with a smile. He felt himself nod once, stare boring into your own. You nodded back, squeezing your knees against his trunk in encouragement.

Gasps filled the space between you as he eased the heavy tip of his manhood inside your channel. Inside the very essence of you that he had longed for. Every inch was a simmering feast of pleasure, the denial of centuries building to a single, strangled gasp of your name. Loki felt his brows slant, the sight of you beneath him almost more than he could bear. Careless lust rose in waves, firing through his bloodstream as he filled you to the hilt. Careful, he chided himself. Slowly. Every inch of your pussy was perfection, as he knew it would be. Every vein and ridge of his cock dragged tight against your flawless heat. A man could lose himself for eternity inside this pleasure if he wasn’t careful, each pull of your tight slippery cunt against his foreskin making him ascend. And not just a man, he thought through the drunken haze, a god. He choked with a rasping groan, letting his head fall into the curve of your neck. Loki began to pant as words of devotion licked the air like flames, your fingers trailing over the weaving curves of his ceremonial braids. “Don’t hold back,” you whispered wet in his ear, “not tonight.” Loki pulled his head back, a strand of saliva dangling from his lip as his brow furrowed. There was a new light in your eyes, something dark and hungry. Something familiar. Something him.

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. “Wife,” he gasped through breathy pants and shallow thrusts, “are you asking me to-” “-fill me,” you groaned, an impish smile tugging your dimples, "heirs, remember?" Loki’s eyes rolled back as you bucked your hips up, thudding your pelvic bones together. The snug warmth of your pussy was unbearable.

The prince remembered the way you had come undone beneath his mouth earlier this evening in the palace baths. The way that your fresh cum had flooded his outstretched tongue. He felt his thighs tense. His balls, tight. “My love, I-” he gasped, feeling you tug a clutch of his hair. Loki hissed, his jaw set. “I’m trying to be romantic,” he spat, yanking his head away like a child. He stared down with fiery determination, the flash in his eyes punctuated with a punishing thrust of his hips. You moaned approvingly below him, a teasing grin stretching across your face. Loki’s heart melted. My wife, he thought lovingly; before slamming his cock deeper with a squelch. He felt the scratch of your fingernails over thick shoulder muscle, the tightening of your thighs making him judder. “We have our whole lives for romance, Loki,” you cooed, the syllables staggered between each slap of his hips, “tonight I...uhhh- just want you to f-fuck me, f-finally.”

The god released the growl that had been marinating in his throat, stretching a hand above your head. He gripped a clutch of furs tight in a fist. “I fucking love you,” he rasped, beginning to roll his hips in targeted, deep thrusts. “I- oh g-god, fucking lo-love you, my p-prince” you whined, catching his mouth in a messy kiss.

Loki pulled away from you, shaking his head with a broken sigh. He could feel the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced building in his belly, your soft moans sending his soul to new planes. It was perfection, the two of you. Nothing would ever compare. Nothing ever should. “Not your prince-” he grunted, knuckles whitening against the furs as he spun out the feeling as long as it could last. Edging himself. “-husband,” -was the last word Loki heard before climax deafened him.

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fangswbenefits · 6 months

Text

The Arrangement (8) - Revelations

Chapter summary: You finally confront Ava, but the conversation takes an unexpected turn.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: Innuendo. Mentions of abuse and trauma.

Word count: 5.3k

Series Masterlist

You found him by the edge of a cliff overlooking Baldur's Gate.

The first rays of light began to spill into the morning sky in hues of yellow fused with orange. You would never tire of watching the city you called home being engulfed in such beauty.

“Enjoying the view?”

Astarion was holding a somewhat mellow smile on his lips as he turned to face you.

“I hadn't seen this much colour bathing the city in over two hundred years.”

You stopped next to him, looping an arm around his and resting your face against his shoulder.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

He sighed. “I do not want to get too attached to it. In case things go awry, that is.”

‘Awry’ meaning that he wouldn't be able to ascend…

It always made your heart clench to think about how much Astarion still held on to that.

But you didn't want to think about such things for now.

For now, you were more than content to share this moment with him.

“The sun looks beautiful on you,” you said truthfully.

It wasn't exactly a challenge, but you adored praising and stroking his ego.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “As most things do, darling."

"That is true.”

He then placed his cold hand atop yours. “As you once did.”

His words hit you with such force that you felt your chest too heavy all of a sudden.

You glanced up at him, meeting his soft crimson eyes. “Astarion…”

Would he ever move on?

Would he ever move on from you?

He offered a defeated smile. “I know, I know. Just friends, right?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He didn't utter another word as he looked on ahead.

You kept your grip around him, enjoying his firmness and how he made you feel so safe and comfortable.

Deep down, you were just thankful he couldn't see the single tear that streamed down your face.

The cold and wet trail brought you back to witness the sight of the sun emerging on the horizon line.

You pulled your legs up so you could rest your chin on your knees, hugging yourself as the breathtaking view filled your vision.

How you wished you could share this with him like many times before.

As lovers.

As friends.

You wiped the tear away with the back of your hand as sadness spread inside you.

There was no point in dwelling in the impossible. At least until you found a way for him to experience all the colour the world had to offer with no limitations.

Sleep hadn't come to you this night and it wasn't because of nightmares or the fact that Astarion had left you painfully yearning for his touch.

Your mind was just all over the place, trying to make sense of how things felt with him after that conversation.

Truth be told, you were more than happy with the occasional intimacy and giving him space.

But his taunting words still lingered in your mind.

You were certain he craved more than a friendship, but how much of that spread beyond carnal lust was something you weren't sure about.

Maybe even Astarion didn't know.

As much as you longed for more, you still wanted to mend your friendship first and bridge the distance that had come between you two.

As you pushed yourself from the bed and slipped into your robe, you took a quick glance at the mirror in front of you.

Eyes puffy and reddened paired with deep eyebags.

Wonderful.

You heaved a deep sigh as you exited the room, heading towards the kitchen area to brew some tea.

The door to his room was firmly shut and you hurried past it with bare feet.

The entire house was still swallowed in silence and darkness.

You quickly lit up a few candles before reigniting the fireplace and putting the kettle on.

The familiar squeak of the door to his room filled your ears.

As the water came to a boil, you poured a few herbs inside the cup as you poured the scalding liquid.

You heard him call out your name and your stomach immediately fluttered as he came into view, slowly pacing towards you.

“How did you know it was me?”

Astarion's lips curled into a smile. “I know the sound of your footsteps by heart.”

There was no trace of deceit in his remark.

His voice rang true and not as a mere attempt at flustering you with honeyed words.

He meant it and you felt the warm embrace of his presence tightly enveloping you.

Astarion had learned the way to your heart like no one else had ever tried to.

He could crawl under your skin and have you yearn for him like no one else could.

And he did all of this effortlessly and like second nature.

You returned a warm smile, feeling the addictive embrace of his presence.

He felt like the home you longed to come back to.

As you moved to sit on the sofa nearby, enjoying the warmth that radiated from the cup in your hands, he eventually sat next to you, crimson eyes meeting yours and, for a moment, you held your breath.

He was your home.

“You look horrible.”

A snarky one.

You chuckled at his bluntness, taking a sip. “Didn't get much sleep.”

“Nightmares again?”

“No. My mind was just busy…”

He slowly nodded. “Was it too much? What we did?”

You glared at him in surprise. “What? No. What about you?”

His eyes narrowed. “I wanted more.”

“That doesn't answer my question.”

He crossed his legs, adjusting his elegant shirt. “It wasn't nearly enough.”

“You were the one to stop it…”

“Because I had to. Gods know how long it took to… calm down, so to speak.”

The implication that dangled from his words wasn't particularly subtle.

Oh.

Your cheeks flared up. “I… didn't hear you…”

Astarion flashed a teasing smile. “I know how to avoid being heard, unlike a certain someone.”

Bad timing had you nearly choking on your tea.

“Careful, darling. You'll get all wet… again.”

The nerve!

You shot him murderous glare, wiping your chin.

Then the two fell into a comfortable silence.

You melted into the backrest of the sofa, cradling the cup in your hands, humming a tune that you had almost forgotten about.

“I find myself missing our journey, you know?” he said after a while.

“Even having to play the hero?”

He tapped his chin pensively. “Even that, as surprising as it sounds. I could have done without all your ridiculous acts of heroism, but I grew to enjoy indulging in some of them.”

Your heart thudded happily at his honesty.

“Who would have thought that you’d find joy in being selfless,” you teased with a smile.

He lifted one finger. “Do not misunderstand. I still come first. I spent too many centuries not being able to and I won't give that up now.”

You nodded, fully understanding his line of thinking.

In the meantime, your hand had dropped in between you two and you felt coldness reach your fingers.

You looked down, startled, only to be met with his fingers gently brushing against yours.

And just like clockwork, your heart sped up.

Astarion had his eyes fixed on the swirling flames that emanated from the fireplace.

Little by little, his fingers began to intertwine with yours until his hand gripped you tightly.

Your mind blanked for a moment at how unexpected this was.

In time, his cold skin began to warm up against yours.

And then it dawned on you that he had never held your hand this way.

He had helped you up on your feet more times than you could count.

He had gripped your hand in his as both of you hurried along collapsing halls and while being chased by the most vicious of creatures.

But he had never held your hand as if seeking for silent comfort.

You shifted so you could rest your head on his shoulder.

He tensed slightly under your touch, but eventually relaxed and you seized the opportunity to melt into his side, enjoying the familiar scent of bergamot and rosemary.

Home.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but the tear in your cup had gone tepid and you began to feel guilty.

You had considered not telling him about confronting Ava.

But you didn't want to lie and hide anything from him, especially if it concerned him in the first place.

You pulled slightly away from him and he met your gaze.

“I'm going to meet Ava tonight.”

You expected an angry outburst of indignation from him, but were met with an inquisitive glare instead.

“Why doesn't that surprise me at all?”

That was it?

“Wait… you are not going to talk me out of it?”

At this, he faintly chuckled, still firmly gripping your hand in his.

“Honestly, darling, when has that ever worked?”

Point taken.

He knew of your stubbornness all too well.

“Besides, do you intend on killing her?”

You widened your eyes. “I – no? I don't think so?”

Though you couldn't swear on this until you were actually absolutely sure she was as harmless as he claimed her to be.

“Then, you have my blessing.”

You then narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him. “You don't even want to go with me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“It's not necessary.”

He shrugged. “Then I won't.”

Astarion was acting uncharacteristically accepting of your intrusion, and that rang a plethora of alarm bells in your head.

It was as if he knew you'd have no reason to harm her.

“Why are you so… calm about this?”

His eyes met yours. “I am well aware you can turn Ava into a pile of dust should she cross your path. But I don't believe you will do such a thing.”

“Why not? I don't trust her.”

His grip around your fingers eased slightly. “I don't expect you to, but you do trust me, don't you?”

“Yes.”

You didn't hesitate for a second. After all, you had trusted Astarion through things that most people would have staked him for. The two of you were way past the uncertainty of not trusting each other's intentions.

It was more evident that the glaring issue that plagued your relationship was rooted in miscommunication and not mistrust.

“And I trust her.”

That ground on your nerves. “But why?”

“Because I have to.”

You immediately dropped his hand, turning in your seat to fully face him, already feeling the familiar irritation that came with him not being fully open with you at times.

“Astarion, you need to start telling me why you hold her in such high regards,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You can also trust me. Whatever it is… just tell me.”

He glared at you with a faint scowl. “She is taking my blood with the intention of lessening some vampirism weaknesses.”

Oh?

“Such as?”

“Well, the insatiable hunger is the main focus.”

You stared at him in silence, not quite sure what to make of this.

The Wish Spell could grant him the ability to walk in the sun again, but this seemed even more ambitious.

And dangerous.

“Obviously, this is all rather theoretical, but it seemed like a sound prospect,” he went on, sinking into the sofa with an exasperated sigh. “As selfish as I am, I also considered how this could be helpful to the spawn in the Underdark.”

His words took you quite aback.

“This… seems too good to be true,” you said hesitantly.

“Oh, I'm aware. That is why I am keeping my expectations in check.”

You really, really wanted to hate Ava.

But if her motifs were truly this altruistic, then you were going to have a hard justifying that feeling, which provided another added layer of anger altogether.

“So, if you want to talk to her, you are free to do so. Seeing is believing or so they say,” he said with a witty grin.

You sighed.

Astarion was a bad planner.

No. He was a terrible planner.

He could identify the end goal, but would have no clue how to get there and would merely make adjustments as he went along, hoping for the best.

Luck had been on his side as of late, but you lacked that optimism.

And he obviously saw that splattered across your face.

“Oh, please. I know that look – just say it,” he scoffed.

You weren't even sure what you wanted to say.

Deep down, you felt extremely protective of him and didn't appreciate that she was exchanging lessons in intimacy for his blood.

It all seemed very one-sided and the promise of also helping him – and by extension, the spawn in the underdark – still seemed unrealistically… convenient.

“Are you even sure any of this will work? Has she made any progress with your blood?”

“Some progress. Not enough to keep me too hopeful, but I will take anything these days.”

You could sympathise with the sentiment, but…

“I still think there is something off about her.”

Astarion just looked as amused as ever. “No jealousy?”

You rolled your eyes. “No.”

“Well, she would have nothing to gain from sending us both to prison,” he said. “She knows I exclusively feed on you and that I do need to feed regularly.”

The nonchalant way in which he uttered those words, brought a wave of heat to your face, as the events from a few hours earlier resurfaced in your mind.

There was a hint of intimacy in the act itself, but also in the aftermath. Astarion's senses would be sharpened as your blood coursed through his body.

“Seems like I broke your concentration, darling,” he said teasingly, effectively snapping you from your thoughts.

You jolted briefly and then scowled, annoyed that he could see right through you so easily.

“Don't flatter yourself.”

He gave you a devious smile. “I don't have to. Not when your body provides the finest flattery there is.”

Gods.

You wished you could turn off the effect his honeyed words always had on you.

Clearing your throat, you straightened up in your seat. “Very well, then. I am willing to be enlightened.”

A teasing smile tugged faintly at his lips. “Good girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Regaining your composure, you said, “Wyll is going there with me tonight.”

Astarion drew a sleazy grin this time. “Oh, so that was what the two of you were plotting yesterday.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And here I thought sweet Wyll had finally mustered the courage to take you out on a lavish date,” he said with a dramatic and forceful pout. “Seems like romance is dead, after all.”

For some odd reason, Astarion was under the impression that Wyll harboured feelings for you that surpassed friendship.

But what Astarion didn't know was that your heart was too full of him to allow room for anyone else.

His taunting words created the perfect opening for you to return the gesture.

“No jealousy?”

His smile only grew wider. “Do you want me to be jealous?”

You were entering his territory, and should tread lightly.

“Maybe you should be jealous,” you whispered.

He shifted closer to you and you held your breath.

“And why is that? Why should I be jealous of your friendship with him?”

Gods, he was good .

Your heart drummed faster in your chest as his face drew near.

He was a master at disarming you with carefully laid out traps whilst using his words as alluring bait.

“He's very… friendly.”

You inwardly cringed at your ridiculous remark, which earned a chuckle from Astarion.

At this point, he was so close you almost feel his cool lips on yours.

“Well, hopefully not this friendly.”

That was it.

He was going to kiss you and you couldn't give a damn about it.

But before he could do so, the faint rhythmic thud of footsteps pulled you out of immersion, and the two of you pulled apart at once.

Lae'zel.

She reached the bottom of the staircase, eyeing both of you like she had just run into the most disappointing event of her life.

“The sun has yet to fully rise, and the two of you are already at it again,” she said with a scowl. “Wasn't the coupling from last night enough?”

Your jaw dropped open in sheer mortification.

Surely she hadn't… heard anything… right?

“Where is your sense of decorum, Lae'zel?” Astarion clicked his tongue, leaning back against the sofa once more.

She gave him a stern glare. “You wouldn't know decorum if it hit you in that pale face of yours, Astarion.”

He chuckled. “My, my… someone is feisty today.”

“The sounds you two made could raise the dead from their graves,” she said, moving swiftly towards the front door with her sword keeping her company. “I am not sure how much more of this torture I can take.”

You stood up at once, feeling embarrassment take over. “Oh! We… uh… Astarion was just feeding and–”

She held a hand up. “Spare me the grotesque details. I'll be going out on a hunt. Don't expect me for lunch.”

And without a further exchange, she slipped through the door.

Astarion was now on his feet and heading towards the staircase.

Somehow, you couldn't help but feel a tad of disappointment as he left your side.

His company was something you reckoned you'd never tire from.

“See you later, darling. And do fix that lovely face of yours,” he teased dramatically. “Rose water works like a charm.”

And you couldn't hold back an endearing smile.

The night came quicker than you had hoped.

Confronting Ava made you feel truly uneasy, especially after learning some more about her.

As promised, Wyll had come to you, escorted by two Fists. The mage slayer stationed outside, quickly joined the four of you, and you felt the magic within you dip dangerously low from her presence.

The journey to The Blushing Mermaid proved to be rather uneventful and you were more than thankful for it.

“Does Astarion know about this?”

You nodded. “He has also told me the reason why she's taking his blood.”

Wyll's eyes met yours and you could see the tension on his face. “Whatever could be the reason?”

Fortunately, the two Fists walked far behind the two of you to preserve some privacy.

“She wants to lessen the effects of vampiric hunger.”

He arched an eyebrow and you approached the familiar tavern.

“That sounds too convenient .”

You almost pulled Wyll into a kiss as he unknowingly validated your concerns.

“Exactly. Maybe I am overthinking it, but I need to make sure nonetheless.”

He nodded firmly.

Those crowding the entrance immediately made way for you to walk inside, and you heard a few salutes as others inside bowed to Wyll.

Bork approached the counter with a tilted smile on his face. “Duke of Ravengard. To what do we owe the pleasure? Hope we are not in trouble?”

A few drunkards nearby erupted in laughter.

“Unless you have indeed done something unlawful, I wouldn't worry too much, Bork.”

He offered Wyll a forced smile, which he didn't return.

“We are looking for Ava,” you chimed in impatiently.

His face instantly dropped. “Ava? Is she in trouble?"

Honestly, what was with everyone and this woman? Was she some goddess in disguise?

“We just wish to talk to her,” Wyll answered.

Bork hesitated at first, but glared at the two Fists flanking you. “First floor. Third room to your left.”

You nodded and swiftly made your way upstairs, feeling your heart hammering fast in your chest as you paced along the corridor.

Wyll knocked thrice on the large door.

It swung open almost immediately, and Ava came into view, holding a knowing smile.

“I was expecting you.”

A swirl of nausea settled in your stomach.

She extended one hand, standing to the side so you could walk in.

“As pleased as I am to be visited by our Duke, I shall ask for you not to enter.”

You immediately turned to see Wyll scowl deeply. “Tonight I'm no Duke – I'm her friend and you shall let me enter.”

Ava tapped on the door lightly. “These are my quarters, and unless I am being charged with wrongdoing, I have the right to decide who to invite inside, Duke .”

The two Fists were gripping the handle of their swords, ready to draw them.

Wyll motioned for the to be at ease and turned his head to you. “I will be waiting outside.”

Ava wiggled her fingers dismissively, further gnawing at your nerves.

“Do not try anything witty, hunter,” Wyll said in a tone you hadn't heard since he last faced Mizora.

She chuckled. “I have abandoned those ways. You may simply call me Ava.”

But before he could reply, she pushed the door closed in one swing and glanced at you with an excessively sweet smile.

“So? I don't believe you came all the way here to simply gawk at me.”

You cleared your throat. “I have a few things I need to discuss with you.”

“Of course. I would be surprised if you didn't.”

Your patience was running thin.

“It concerns Astarion.”

“Still not surprised,” she said with a tilted smile. “I'm all ears.”

“He's told me about you.”

“Hopefully not everything, but do go on.”

She moved to a table and poured a red liquid into a goblet. “Can I tempt you with some red wine?”

You scowled and she laughed. “It is not poisoned, though I do understand your hesitation.” She then took a long sip.

Glancing around the room, you realised it could easily pass off as the inside of an apothecary store. There were endless rows of shelves and cupboards that housed countless vials of glass with suspicious content.

There was a small fire burning by the window with a large flask set right above, the flames barely reaching the bottom as a deep dark red liquid gurgled.

Ava sat on a lavish armchair, holding the goblet to her lips.

“I know you're taking his blood for some experiment in regards to vampirism,” you began, keeping your voice steady. “Even to supposedly help the vampire spawn in the Underdark.”

Her pleasant face wavered momentarily. “He's offering it to me. Freely.”

“You are taking advantage of him.”

“I am not taking advantage of anything. It's a mere transaction that we have both agreed upon.”

“Blood for intimacy?”

“That seems rather… crass.”

“You are taking advantage of his… wounds…”

“Why are you so hellsbent on accusing me of being the one taking advantage of him? He also has much to win from this arrangement.”

“Because you have the upper hand here. The price for a chance at healing from his wounds seems rather unbalanced,” you said, feeling heat flare throughout your entire body. “You get his blood, which is a sure thing, and he gets a ‘perhaps’ on all fronts: intimacy and that hunger “cure” you're promising.”

Ava glared at you with eyes slightly narrowed, chin resting on the back of her hand.

“There are wounds that take time to heal. Some never heal at all, my dear.”

“I'm aware.”

“Are you? Are you, really?” Ava said with a scoff. “I am not the enemy here. Your vitriol against me is rooted in something primal.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Primal?”

“Is it jealousy, I wonder?”

You clenched your fists. “It is not. Whatever bond you think you share with him is superficial and frail. There's nothing to be jealous of.”

“Actually, I do believe your words… it is not jealousy, indeed,” she said, tapping a long nail on her chin. “But rather… protectiveness.”

You remained silent.

“I dare say that protectiveness can blind even the wisest.”

“I am not blinded. I can see there is something unsettling about you.”

“You look, but you do not see,” she said as she took a sip of her wine. “Your attachment to him is your weakness.”

“Caring for others isn't a weakness.”

“You taught him that, did you?”

The faint mockery wasn't lost on you, and it made your nails dig further into your palms, regning in your temper as best as you could.

“He doesn't need to be taught anything. Astarion may need some guidance, as we all do from time to time.”

Ava merely chuckled. “May I see your neck?”

What?

Her words caught you off guard, but you did not move an inch to comply with her request.

“Ah… your reluctance is answer enough,” she tutted. “He has fed on you recently, hasn't he?”

Now, that immediately had your stomach turn in revulsion, realising just how transparent she truly was.

“So this is what it's all about – you just want him to feed on you instead.”

Ava rolled her eyes with a forced yawn. “On the contrary. Of course, I have vaguely wondered what it feels like, but Astarion is far too devoted to your blood to even entertain the idea.”

“Then why did you complain to me about him not feeding on you?”

She crossed her legs elegantly under her emerald green dress. “I was merely taunting you. Again, his devotion gets in the way.”

“I wouldn't necessarily call it ‘devotion’.”

“Oh, but I would. See, Astarion's bond to you is exquisite and much welcome… to say the least.”

Her flowery words were really testing your patience now.

“Elaborate.”

“The last time he fed on you and gave me his blood was right when you left The Blushing Mermaid. A few days later, I tried his blood on some spawn in the city outskirts that have taken to living underground in search of a cure.” She paused briefly to take yet another sip from the goblet. “The results were vastly different from my previous experiments.”

“Can you just get straight to the point for once?”

“Oh, you really are a feisty one…” Ava said with a teasing smile. “As I was saying, the results were rather interesting and unexpected. The spawn reported feeling sated much quicker than before, but the effect wore off in the first hour, which was a disappointment.”

You froze instantly. “You're… using my blood?”

“Well, yes… and no,” she said in a casual tone. “Your blood mixed with his, that is. Before that day, I had never tried his blood after he fed on you.”

You felt as though you might be sick as your stomach lurched violently.

“This is… I – does he know?”

“Well, I haven't been given the chance, considering how the two of you got thrown into prison,” she said with a shrug. “And I am fully aware you think I am somehow responsible for it.”

You were still so taken aback by her earlier revelation, that you had momentarily forgotten about that detail.

“Now, what would I gain from setting you two up, especially after I just told you this.”

She did have a point.

Seemingly.

“You mentioned other spawn – why not use their blood instead? Why his?”

“Oh, darling… ”

The way that word rolled out of her tongue grated on your nerves, and you realised only one person could masterfully use it without provoking a visceral reaction.

“Astarion isn't really your regular spawn, is he? Even when he was under Cazador Szarr's influence, he would still rebel against his commands while his siblings cowered in fear of defying their master.”

An overwhelming sense of dread took over at once.

Astarion has revealed how Cazador had kept him buried alive for a whole year as punishment for letting a potential victim go.

He had clawed his hands raw from despair as he wished for death to just take him.

Even remembering this vaguely, made your heart hurt for him.

“How do you know that?”

Ava rose to her full height, brushing her long and dark curls from her shoulders.

She paced towards a desk and began ruffling through pieces of parchment.

“I was a monster hunter for over twenty years and my group kept a close eye on Cazador and his spawn,” she said, not lifting her eyes. “Astarion had been on our radar for a while, but he was quite experienced in slipping through the cracks whenever we tried to go after him.”

You swallowed.

“Imagine our surprise when he suddenly goes missing. My partners were dumbfounded beyond belief. No vampire spawn is able to resist the compell of their master for that long.”

She then moved back to the armchair, flipping through a couple of scrolls.

“We thought he had met his demise somehow, so imagine my surprise when I find out that he's back in Baldur's Gate. Walking in the sunlight and next to… you.”

You weren't sure where this conversation was headed and you weren't sure you wanted to know.

Ava took your silence as encouragement. “Cazador was attempting to become the Vampire Ascendant and we were set on stopping him, but were instead met with his manor bathed in blood and corpses littering the place.”

So they had gotten there after your group stopped the ritual and prevented the rite from taking place.

“So now you're suddenly an alchemist who wants to help vampire spawn? Why the change of heart?”

Ava met your eyes and her face was void of any amusement. “Astarion and I connect in more ways than you think.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and waiting to hear some circus clown reasoning.

“I wasn't a monster hunter by choice,” she said sternly. “I was born into it and molded into their ways.”

Your defensive demeanour wavered momentarily.

“I shall not go into details, but all you need to know is that once Cazador Szarr was gone, I was driven by curiosity and sought Astarion out so I could learn more about what makes him so different from all the other spawn I've come across.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “So you just left your group? Just like that?”

She snickered. “They were killed.”

“What? By whom?”

She snickered as she took another sip. “By me.”

You were left speechless.

“I thought that if a vampire spawn could break the chains from his master and embrace freedom again, so could I.”

She let out a chuckle, emptying the goblet in one sip.

“So, I offered to help him as he's helped me. No more, no less.”

You really wanted to hate her.

You wanted her to give you a solid reason to be suspicious of her intentions.

But…

“So you genuinely care for him?”

She nodded. “I do. And if Astarion were to walk through that door and ask for us to part ways, I would accept it. It would essentially kill my research until I found someone remotely adequate, but I would make peace with it.”

This conversation had not taken the turn you expected.

At all.

“I can see the confusion in your eyes. You truly believed I am out to get you when I'm probably your best option right now.”

“Best option? In regards to what?”

She extended her arm towards a chair in front of her. “Take a seat.”

You did so, reluctantly, never letting your guard down and her out of your sight.

“Cazador Szarr had many enemies, but he also had many allies. People who were not pleased with his death.”

She now had your undivided attention and you felt your palms sweat.

There wad actually someone going after you? After Astarion?

“I have ways to find who they are.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” you immediately asked, feeling rather unsettled by her words.

She clicked her tongue. “I need assurances first, and I have a proposition to make.”

You saw the flash of a knife emerging from her sleeve and a tall glass container being placed on the table by her side.

TBC

Ao3

Series Masterlist

#astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav

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velvette-creations · 20 days

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Hurt So Good

Hazbin Hotel: The Vees x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit

WC: 1.4 k

Prompt: Exhaustion for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)

Warnings: Overstimulation, oral (f and m receiving), sex work, mentions of bondage and voyeurism, anal, threesome, some solid aftercare, reader is a fox/demon hybrid inspired by a very minor character on the show

Summary: Being involved with the Vees has its perks

Your indigo fluffy tail swished, tickling the bare skin of the giant bull, pounding you from behind as drool pooled down the corners of your mouth. It dripped down the shiny pink ball gag strapped around your mouth and splattered on the sheets below. You clenched around him before soaking his cock. Valentino was delighted to nail the money shot in one take and quickly called cut since he was satisfied. You were thankful it had been an easy night. Once Frank slipped out of you, you rolled onto your back and blew him a kiss; your fox ears twitched before you rolled off the bed.

You pushed onto your tiptoes as you stretched. It might not have been a long night, but it had been exhausting. Your muscles constantly ached after an intense bondage scene, and a hot bath sounded so good right now.

“Baby, you were wonderful tonight, simply on fire,” Valentino purred, beckoning you over to him with a crooked finger.

You were still bare, covered in spunk, but you approached him, perching on his knee. “Thanks, Val,” you beamed. You learned quickly it was better to be on his good side.

“And here I thought Angel was my star. I think it might be you,” he cooed, scratching under your chin and making your tail wag.

“Nah, Angel is a diamond. He’s experienced. I’m just a novice at best, like cheap plastic jewelry,” you mumbled.

You jumped in Val’s lap as you felt a cable sneak up your back before lightly wrapping around your throat.

“Now, now, you wouldn’t be talking about my best girl in such a manner. That simply won’t do,” Vox’s voice purred.

“Silly me, just ignore my ramblings. I’m tired,” you said sheepishly, using a furry paw to cover up a yawn.

“You’re working her too hard, Val,” Vox chided, releasing the cable around your throat before setting his chilled hand against your back and nuzzling your shoulder. Soft shocks of electricity burst over your skin.

“The minions can’t get enough of her. I’m simply giving into popular demand,” Val reasoned.

Vox pulled away momentarily, then draped a silk robe around you. “Well, she’s done for tonight, so let’s take care of her.”

Once your robe was belted around your waist, Valentino scooped you into his arms and carried you into the private quarters of the Vees. You hung tightly to his neck, always forgetting how tall he was. He placed you on the velvet couch and soon you had a lapful of Velvette as she perched her petite body in your lap, covering your face with kisses.

“My favorite foxy girl,” she purred, stroking your ears tenderly, and you felt like you could melt.

You fluttered your lashes, your eyes slowly drooping close as the exhaustion set in your bones. Velvette’s gentle pets were enough to lull you to sleep, but you longed for one last thrill to push you over the edge. To be tugged over the tidal wave, sending you crashing into orgasmic bliss before succumbing to sweet, serene slumber. Your muzzle pressed against Vel’s warm cheek.

“I wanna taste you,” you whispered, your claws furling around her skirt.

“Mmm, that sounds rather lovely to me, foxy girl. Go on then,” she encouraged, her fingers moving through your silky hair as you removed her skirt and panties.

You pressed your palm between her slender thighs, soaking up her wet arousal before taking hold of her hips. She was petite enough to manipulate easily, and you enjoyed making her come undone. You stretched out on the couch before lowering her to your face, your tongue eagerly swiping over her dripping slit. Her hitched moan was music to your ears, spurring you on to eat her out like a starving dog. Her cunt was delicious and warm, sweet nectar dancing against your tongue as you brought her to orgasm, feeling her shiver in your tight grasp as she squirmed against your face.

“My, what a show,” Vox hummed, stroking his hard-on through his tight trousers.

Your claws dug into her tender backside as she rode out her orgasm, grinding against your face until she went limp in your grasp. Your tongue eagerly lapped her clean, savoring every drop before removing her from her seat upon your face.

“Oh fuck me,” Velvette groaned, a broad smile dancing on her face in the aftermath.

“Our little vixen always knows how to satisfy,” Valentino smirked, pink smoke billowing around him as he sauntered to you, cupping your face before his long tongue snaked in your mouth.

One gloved hand caressed the black horns on top of your head as Velvette straddled your stomach.

“Come join us, Voxxy,” she piped up, waving him over.

You watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Vox removed Velvette’s top and bra, his metal fingers tweaking her pebbled nipples. Val pulled away from the sloppy, wet kiss, moving behind your head as he freed his cock. You felt Velvette’s weight slip from your body as Vox maneuvered you so you were on all fours. Val’s weighted cock slapped against your lips, making you shiver, opening your mouth to take him in. Vevlette straddled your back, taking hold of your fluffy tail, lifting it out of the way as her delicate fingers stroked your dripping, swollen cunt, preparing you for Vox.

You felt stuffed full as Vox sunk deep inside you while Val’s cock filled your mouth. Velvette’s slicked fingers played with the tight pucker of your ass, creating a makeshift plug as you gave into all the wonderful feelings, allowing them to use you like a little fuck toy. A sharp snap of Vox’s hips. Velvette’s tender stroking of your tight hole. Your drool puddled down the corners of your mouth as Val fucked your mouth. You couldn’t decide what was the best. All of it felt so damn good.

Your dripping pussy clenched around Vox’s cock as he used his gift to cause a deep vibration to roll through you. Two of Velvette’s fingers filled your tight hole, making you moan around Val’s cock even as your jaw ached. It didn’t take much longer for you to orgasm, feeling overstimulated from earlier. Bands snapped in your lower belly as you crashed over the edge, shuddering around Vox’s vibrating cock and Vel’s fingers. Your jaw went slack around Val’s cock as you rode out the wave until you were finally spent, allowing the serene blue waves to claim you. Oh, it hurt so good.

Your limbs turned to jelly as you were freed from all their appendages. Your knees scooted toward your chest before you curled into a fetal position. Your tail swished over your thighs as Valentino gave you a gentle pat between your black curved horns. Your fluffy ears smoothed back happily. Velvette may have been tiny in stature, but she made up for it in strength as she pried your limbs apart to wipe you clean with a warm towel. A happy yip escaped your maw as Vox began to brush your fur, making it gleam like silk. The three of them certainly knew how to take care of you. Suddenly, you didn’t care about the hot bath anymore.

As the three gathered around the table to enjoy an extravagant dinner from Voracious Eats, you curled in Valentino’s large lap as he fed you bites from his plate. You eagerly lapped up the delicious sauces and meats, savoring each delicious bite before letting out a soft yawn. The warmth of the food soothed your aching throat from swallowing down Val’s cum earlier.

“Our foxy girl needs some rest,” Vox chuckled before taking a long swig of his scotch. His fingers delicately scritched behind one of your ears.

“She worked hard today,” Valentino mused, scratching under your chin.

“It’s hard not to be taken under our little vixen’s spell,” Velvette cooed, reaching out her tiny hand to pat your haunches.

Valentino carried you over to the large bed. You pawed at the silky sheets before turning around in circles then collapsed against the little nest you created. Your eyes drooped close as you snuggled your face between your paws. Halfway through the night, you crawled on Vox’s chest, enjoying the soft thrum of his metallic body as his claws soothingly tangled in your fur. You moved over to Valentino next, making yourself a small ball on his chest, rising with each deep breath he took. That position served well for a bit until you needed something a little different.

You moved over to Velvette, gently nudging her away with your muzzle. Her hands stroked your face, making you wag your tail then curl into a makeshift donut shape. Velvette made herself comfy right in the center of your legs, her face snuggling against your soft, indigo fur. Eventually, Val and Vox snuggled up close on either side of you. With all three curled close, you stayed pleasantly asleep for the rest of the evening.

#fic: hazbin hotel #sweetspicyhc #valentino x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #vees x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotell hell #vox smut #vox imagine #vox x you #valentino x you #velvette x you #vees x you #valentino smut #velvette smut

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motimatcha · 4 months

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Adam headcanon

there may be spoilers for episode 8

Adam is very soft. And although this statement hardly applies to his character, the clothes he wears and his wings are really very soft.

Adam presses his wings tightly to his clothes and body so that others do not touch them, since, among other things, his wings are very sensitive. And he also pays significant attention to them in order to so easily allow someone to touch his wings.

Adam has a fairly ordinary appearance, which hurts his fragile ego - compared to other angels who stand out for their bright appearance. Therefore, he constantly wears his exorcist uniform so as not to look like an ordinary person compared to others.

Adam is slim, not fat by any means. His massive monastic robe creates a similar effect. Beneath the clothes is a fairly slender, but by no means thin, body - he's strong enough to lift someone of Charlie's build with one arm.

He takes a bath two or three times a day. It's all because of his clothes; Yes, it’s soft and comfortable, but it’s massive and it’s easy to sweat in it, and Adam probably doesn’t like feeling sticky and sweaty, so whenever possible, he takes a bath not only in the morning and evening, but also during the day.

(Spoiler for those who haven't watched episode 8) ; I think that before Lute made (?) a deal with Lilith, she tried to independently subjugate the exorcists and Adam in particular. Perhaps she was thinking that underneath Adam's rough exterior was a man who enjoyed being humiliated. Her attempt to deal with Adam was unsuccessful, but he had an amazing time.

When Adam is not behaving as he usually does, he becomes a pleasant enough person to at least just watch. In those rare moments when he takes off his mask and grins, looking at something interesting to him, he looks attractive (this is probably why many girls fall for his appearance, trying to close their eyes to his character?)

There are people who admire Adam and perhaps for their sake he tries to maintain some kind of reputation. His behavior changes, but not that much: for example, he tries not to swear in front of children who look at him with admiration; he seems to be trying to mentor other angels, although his advice falls into the category of "what not to do. Never!" — few people know that Adam gives these tips as recommendations for implementation.

Adam watches porn. A lot of.

#hazbin hotel adam #adam #hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel adam x reader

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scarletts-scribbles · 5 months

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Hold Your Breath

⁀➷ Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

⁀➷ Notes: First fic so be gentle with me! Just some fluff :)

⁀➷ Summary: You make sure Nat knows her scars are nothing to be ashamed of.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Come on, this water’s amazing.” You smiled widely as you let yourself fall backwards, the water holding you tightly as you floated gently on the surface.

You loved to swim. You’d swam since being young, an outlet for your stress. It was a way to train, a way to relax, somewhere to unwind. So, to say you were excited when Natasha had finally agreed to come along with you this time was an understatement.

Of course, you’d asked her before, using both the excuse of training and quality time. She’d never really jumped at the opportunity before, and you’d just simply presumed she wasn’t overly fond of the water - you wouldn’t hold it against her given her past. 

It’s why you’d chosen Stark’s roof-top pool in the first place. It was private, secluded. A trusted place to let her guard down. It was a hot day, the rays of the sun danced on the water's surface, and you found yourself running into the pool the second you threw your towel aside. A child-like excitement coming over you at the contact of the cold water.

“You coming in Natty?” You swam over to the side, treading water as you asked her to join you again. You’d asked earlier but she had been a little slow to reply and you figured she just wanted to adjust to the setting, so you didn’t complain when she made herself comfortable on one of the loungers by the poolside. 

“Yeah.” Natasha nodded and she stood up. Yet she hesitated at the water's edge, her eyes flickering nervously down toward the swimsuit she wore beneath her robe. Her hands lingered on the belt to undo it, her fingers fidgeting with the silk fabric.

You knew that beneath the composed exterior she always wore, there was a vulnerability she rarely exposed. She could see it in her the way she bit the corner of her lip, her eyes staring at you in a silent apology.

“‘Tasha…” You began, pulling yourself out of the water, your wet hand coming to cup the redhead’s cheek, “You know I love every part of you.”

You whispered, gently helping her undo the knot, the silk fabric falling slowly down her shoulders revealing her soft skin. Soft skin, which was broken up by jagged scars, some were old, some new. Memories of past battles and missions alike. They were part of her. They were her. And you meant what you said, you loved every part of her.

Your fingers came to gently trace along the lines, slowly moving down as more of the robe relaxed and fell. “You’re beautiful.” 

Natasha’s anxious eyes softened as she took in your words, her hand coming to find your own. She took a deep breath, trying to embrace vulnerability, “They’re not pretty.” 

“Every part of you is pretty.” You murmured against her neck, littering her skin in gentle kisses, “You don’t ever need to feel ashamed of these. They all tell stories, they’re part of you, you don’t ever need to hide them around me.” Her robe fell to the floor as you finished, she smiled, her lips coming to meet yours as she pulled you closer towards her.

“You’re my whole world y’know that.” Natasha blushed as she pulled away from you, holding the way of your wet hair as she kept your foreheads pressed together.

“And you’re mine too.” You looked down at her hand in your own, bringing it up to kiss her palm before stepping back to admire her stunning black bathing suit, her flawless body never failing to make you swoon.

You turned your back to the water, keeping her hand in yours as you slowly lowered yourself back down into the pool, “Come on, let’s go enjoy the water baby.”

✧･ﾟ: *

〚 Masterlist! 〛 ೃ༄ 〚Join My Taglist! 〛

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #fanfiction #marvel #black widow

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distantdarlings · 7 months

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BY THE FIREPLACE (PT. 4) // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.3K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader

+ SUMMARY - *Requested* In an attempt to forget about the events of the last few days, you try to relax yourself as best you can. You pull a book and some tea down to the common room but are shocked to see that Theo had the same idea.

+ WARNINGS - Language, sensuality (described in mind), nothing else really

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

affection - BETWEEN FRIENDS

*sorry for the short chapter

- - -

You awoke early the next morning. Much earlier than normal. The small clock sat on the desk beside your bed barely had its big hand brushing the four. There was little to no light outside. You pulled your hand to your face to rub some of the sleep out of your eyes.

The only sounds around you were the occasional soft snores from your roommates and a deep rumbling in your stomach. Shit. You must have fallen asleep last night without eating anything. You raised your arms above your head and coaxed a few cracks out of your spine before slipping out of bed. The green, fur-lined slippers lay right beside the head of your bed, waiting patiently for you to sleep your feet in.

You were no longer tired and didn’t feel like laying in bed until classes started, trying to urge yourself back to sleep. You figured you could catch up on some personal reading and have a mug of tea.

Beneath your bed, was a small wicker basket your mother had made for you on your eleventh birthday. It was intricately woven with two pastel ribbons secured on either handle. You loved it dearly and it had held many things as you grew up. At the moment, it held a large assortment of teas and a small kettle that you could hang over the fire in the common room. You knelt down and retrieved the items, deciding on a nice rose and lavender blend.

You gathered the things together, slipped the book you were currently reading into your arms, and made for the common room. At 4 o’clock in the morning, where the sun was not even up, you were expecting few students, if any, to be occupying the room. You were hoping for none.

The common room was always pleasantly splashed in moonlight around this time of the morning. Its cool rays showed through the water just outside the windows and bathed everything in the whiteness. Everything except for the warm fire in the middle of the room. You waltzed over to one of the plush couches, not seeing anyone else around—thank Merlin.

Wandlessly, you conjured some water, watching as it filled your small kettle. You hang it on the fireplace hanger and collapse into the couch, propping your book open. It had been over a day since you’d last read—some fiction about a knight’s journey dealing with the PTSD of his position—and you wondered if you even remembered what had happened the last few chapters. Your eyes found the small words on the page and let yourself fall into the story.

After a few minutes, the kettle began to whistle. You marked your place in the book and tossed it to the cushion beside you. You wanted to get the kettle off the flame before it started screaming and waking up the whole Slytherin house.

You wrapped your hands in your night robe and slipped the kettle away from the fire. With a whispered incantation, your favorite mug from under your bed appeared on the side table. You poured the steaming water into it and watched as the steam poured over the lip of the cup, its billowing moisture brushing against your bare legs.

Once you’d allowed the tea to steep and it had cooled, you became comfortable once again, leaning against the edge of the couch’s arm, sipping your tea every once in a while. It really was a good book. You’d almost found yourself forgetting about the ridiculous events of yesterday.

Until….you sigh. Out of the corner of your eye, a pair of legs appear coming down the stairs to the male dormitory, then a chest, then a face. A particularly difficult pair of eyes met yours. You all but groaned and rolled your eyes. You could not believe it.

“Hey,” he said, a small chuckle coming out of his mouth. It was awkward and the silence that followed it was somehow worse.

“Uh, hey?” You knew he was just talking to you now because he felt just as weird as you did—at least, that’s what you assumed. Before, he never went out of his way to acknowledge you, now…

No one spoke for at least a minute, the both of you just stared at one another, briefly found the other’s eyes, then quickly glanced away again.

“Well don’t let me interrupt you, I was just passing through,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of the plaid pajama pants he was wearing. Your eyes followed him as he began to walk towards one of the bookcases in the corner. He wore a black tank top that showed off his muscular arms beautifully. Your line of vision traced the thick vein that wrapped around his arm, curled down his wrist, and disappeared with his hands in his pants pocket. The pajama pants sat low on his waist and framed the sharp edge of his hip bones. You watched closely as he contemplated the options on the shelves before him.

His eyes caught something interesting. He raised up on his tip toes and lifted his arm to grab it. The tank top slid up his stomach, revealing the strong line of muscle that traveled from below his ribs and down to what lay beneath his waistband. The band of his undergarments traveled briefly over his hips. Fuck. He looked absolutely edible.

You shake that thought off and turn your head back to your book, forcing yourself to focus on the words before you. Surely, this was a normal feeling. It was just natural hormones forcing you to look for a mate. This was simply Mother Nature taking its course. Completely ordinary.

But Merlin, the way he had looked at you when he’d come down the stairs. His eyes, so dark and wanting, glancing over you in your too-big night robe and your ratty shorts. You felt like the most desirable thing in the world with the way he looked at you. Maybe you were just imagining it, but he looked as though he wanted to devour every inch of you.

Your fingers scraped over the book’s pages, letting the light scratch of the parchment control your thoughts. Intrusive ones that you indulged for just a moment before realizing what a weakness it was. Ones that gripped your hips and bit your chest and traced your thighs.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” His voice appeared behind you suddenly. You jumped at his abruptness.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, Nott, take a seat wherever you’d like,” you sighed, trying once again to refocus yourself. But as he traveled over to the love seat at the far end of the rug probably no more than ten feet from you, you couldn’t help but glance up over the pages every so often.

You watched as he made himself comfortable, legs spread wide open with one ankle resting on the other knee, one hand against the arm of the chair propping his head up, the book balanced against his raised leg, and a strong arm coming up every once and a while to flip the page. As he launched himself further into the story, he began to fidget a bit. His thumb and forefinger pinching his bottom lip, the knot in his throat sliding up and down as he swallowed, his hips readjusting themselves, sliding them slowly against the cushion and—

You slammed your book shut. You couldn’t live like this. You were just going to force yourself back to bed. At the sudden sound, Theo’s eyes shot up in a worried glance.

“You okay?” he asked. You began to gather your things, tucking your now-cooled kettle under your arm. When he realized what you were doing, his book dropped to the cushion beside him and he stood abruptly. You stopped and the two of you watched each other, waiting for the other to speak. His eyes were slightly widened and he was breathing a bit heavier than usual. You watched as his chest rose and fell quickly. Neither one of you moved.

“You know I’m—” “I’m sorry if—”

You both began talking and stopped at the same time. Theo dropped his head and you glanced away, finding the stained glass windows particularly interesting.

“You go first,” he says. You sigh.

“I was just going to say that I’m going to go back to bed,” you explained, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh,” he says, sounding particularly dejected. Or maybe he didn’t. You couldn’t tell what you were and weren’t imagining the last few hours.

“What were you going to say?” you ask.

His eyes glanced around the room. His fists opened and closed, flexing the tendons that ran gracefully along his forearm.

“I was going to say I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the whole…,”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you brush it off, “let’s not make it more than it is, okay?”

“No, yeah, I didn’t mean to,” he quickly says. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His eyes find yours and for a second you feel your heart liquefying, melting and rushing down your ribs, sliding across your stomach and legs. Your eyes hold and it feels as though neither of you can look away. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears and echoing against your back.

His lips open and close multiple times and the heavy breathing is back. His chest rising and falling, rising and falling. His honeyed lips pulsing with each breath. His eyes slipping down the length of your body but your vision is too shaky to even notice it. And when did you guys get closer to each other? His hand now rested delicately on the back of the couch you stood in front of. There was but an arm’s length between the two of you. You could just reach out and touch him…

“Yeah, uh…,” you interrupted, your eyes falling away from his. You broke the moment. “I’m fine. Thanks for checking in, Nott.” He chuckles.

“Do you even know my first name?” His eyes find yours once more. No, thank you. You finish gathering your things and begin to walk around the side of the couch.

“Um, I do but…you know, if we aren’t making this weird, I figure we just go back to the way we were. You not knowing I exist and me not caring that you do.” Yikes. Fucking harsh. You shake your head and start walking past him to the staircase.

His hand suddenly wraps around your arm, your skin stinging like he had electrocuted you. You jump and he pulls away quickly. He mumbles a quick apology. You brush it off swiftly. God, this was painful. You imagined your friends watching this play out and cringing so hard they passed out. Because you were on the verge of doing the same.

“Is that seriously what you think of me?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with concern. You sigh again.

“I’m sorry, that was rude, I shouldn’t have said that,” you apologize. “But before…this whole situation, we didn’t talk to each other. We went about our days, blissfully ignorant to one other.”

His eyes hit the ground. He knew it was true. The both of you knew that if this hadn’t happened, nothing would have changed between your relationship—or lack thereof.

“If you want to…you know, be friendly,” you start. His eyes raise to yours. “Come to the library with me or have lunch with me.” You felt pretty sure he wouldn’t. He had a reputation to uphold.

He and all of his friends were ‘well-known’ around Hogwarts. They were all handsome, smart, and hailing from very old, wealthy Wizarding families. Everybody liked them or wanted to be them and you knew that well. All cliches aside, you were a Half-Blood and probably none of their concern if not the subject of their bigotry.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I will do those things with you,” he shrugs. “Give me a time and place.”

You were flabbergasted. And you were sure your face was showing it painfully well. You didn’t know what to say without sounding like a fool.

You wanted to say yes. God, how you wanted to say yes…Should you? Is it even worth all of the trouble? You know if anyone sees the two of you chatting it up at lunch, rumors will fly and you’re not so sure you’re comfortable being at the center of those. Yeah, no. You’re definitely not. Say no.

“Um…alright,” you breathe, smiling nervously. “I usually eat lunch by the Black Lake and read. I’ll be there today.” Merlin, help.

“Okay,” he says, smiling. “Well, don’t be reading while we’re eating lunch together.” You laugh.

“I won’t, as long as your conversation can keep my interest.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it can.” He sends a wink your way. Embarrassingly, a bit of heat blossoms in your stomach. This was ridiculous. You weren’t thirteen. You needed to get it together.

“We’ll see.” The two of you smile and begin to slowly separate. You didn’t really understand what was going on and you half-wondered if this was even worth it simply due to the amount of teasing you were going to get from your friends. But he seemed…nice. You wanted to see what lunch was all about today. It couldn’t hurt to have a new friend.

Part 5!

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #multi chapter #chapter 4 #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #eventual smut #gender neutral reader

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frenziedslashers · 1 year

Note

Hi there! I would like a request a OS about Peter B Parker x Fem! Reader as a married couple Smut (Reader is Mayday's mother). The Reader is like Starfire (An alien superheroine and a beautiful hot like fire (literally, since her powers comes from the sun) person married to a human) Like Malewife and Girlboss...So when Peter comes home, she's taking care of her daughter meanwhile he was on patrol, so she put her daughter on bed time. She wants to have a night of "fun" with her husband. Taking good care of him with a bath and a dinner so then the "fun" can come. With a purple robe and a sexy lavender lingerie. I can leave the smut part to you with some recommendations Lactation Kink, Praise kink, "Mommy" kink, Oral (Female and male receiving), Creampie, maybe 69 position...

Take good care 🥰

Early Nights Off;;

A/N: Dude, I am literally blowing you kisses and hugging you platonically through my laptop rn. I was smiling and kicking my feet when I saw that you nearly instantly sent me a request for Peter. I am so in love with him, I love my silly goofy DILFs hehe. I have never written for a lactation kink before so I will not be doing that as I do not know how and Idk how comfortable I am with it LMAO I will try and interoperate the rest into this for you though. Thank you again, literally my savior for my brain rot rn. HE IS SO MALEWIFE THOUGH, YOU ARE SO REAL. I hope this is good enough, this is my first Peter fic haha.

Warnings: Breeding Kink (I just know he has one after Mayday.), Praise Kink, "Mommy" Kink sort of?, Oral (F and M Receiving), Creampie (Wrap it before you tap it guys), Reader is an alien (Not proofread, sorry lmao)

Any other day it would be easy for Peter to patrol the city all night. Even if the crime activity was little to nothing. He could spend all day and night swinging from building to building. It beat sitting at home with nothing to do.

Except now he had a reason to be home. Even before the two of you had Mayday, and it was just you. He found himself crawling through the window of your shared apartment earlier and earlier each night. You were his weakness, and he was never ashamed to admit it.

After you gave him his first kid though. There were some nights that he wouldn't go out at all. Too enraptured by baby Mayday to even think about leaving your cozy home. Playing with the baby. Watching you nurture and care for her. Being a dad was something he enjoyed a lot more than he ever thought he would. He had Miles to thank for breaking his fear of kids.

Tonight was one of his early nights. Calling it quits after all he found for crime activity was a man robbing a woman of her purse. Cliché and typical, but he put a stop to it nonetheless. Getting the woman's purse back while also tying the attacker up in front of the New York Police Department with a letter attached to him.

'Caught him robbing a lady, you're welcome. - Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.'

He wondered if they ever actually took in and charged the people he left on their doorstep like that. Or if they simply untied them and let them run because they had no proof they actually did anything wrong? That was a question for another time, though. Right now he was focused on opening the bedroom window. Crawling in and shutting it behind him to keep the muggy air outside from entering the room.

He was quick to take the suit off. Figuring he wouldn't need it for the rest of the night. Pulling a grey shirt on that hung on the side of the bed. Keeping only his boxers on to allow his body to cool down from the warmer conditions outside.

You were in the living room. Comfortable pajamas on while you lulled Mayday to sleep in your arms. A soft hum leaving your throat as you rocked her back and forth. He had to stop and watch for a while. Leaning against the door frame that led him from your shared room to the living room.

"You're back early," you cooed. At times he wished you didn't have the ability to sense him like he could you. It was nice sometimes, though. Not at times that he wanted to just sit and watch you mother his baby.

"I missed my beautiful girls," he murmured, that smug smile gracing his features. You were glad to have looked up and seen it.

"Well, I just fed her and got her to sleep." you informed, and he nodded. Licking his lips while his eyes raked over you. Practically undressing you and imagining all the things he could do to you right now. It had been so long since the two of you had any time to each other. That seemed to be one of the few, if not only down falls to being parents. Sex felt scarce, but that didn't mean it was totally absent from your lives.

"I think I might shower while you lay her down," he spoke, shifting his feet as he went to turn back for the bathroom down the hall. "Or I could run you a bath while I make you something to eat?" you offered and he just couldn't say no.

He smiled, nodding his head while staring you down. So much love and adoration was in his eyes. He was perfect. Mayday was perfect. You were perfect.

"What man could say no to that offer?" He snickered, to which you rolled your eyes. Smiling fondly at your husband while you stood to your feet. Kissing his cheek when you made it over to him. "I'll get that bath running then," you hummed. Heading for Maydays room to put her to bed. Shutting the door behind you before you scurried off for the bathroom. Swaying your hips a little more than normal since you knew he was staring.

He was, too. His eyes eating you up like candy while they took in your form. God, he could eat you alive.

The water was the perfect temperature. The soaps that you put in it had him melting into the atmosphere. Everything was perfect. He couldn't ask for anything better. When you came walking in with food, and that skimpy bathrobe that drove him crazy. He was certain you were praying on his downfall.

"You spoil me," he told you as he took a plate from your hand. Watching as you sat on the edge of the tub with your own plate in hand. The both of you eating together. Peter a little more eager than you. He loved his food.

"Only because you spoil me in return," you grinned. He raised a questioning brow. Taking a bite of the Mac and Cheese that you warmed up from the night before. "How? I don't make enough money to spoil you. You spoil me more that I do you, and it's a little unfair," he pouted a bit. He hated the fact that he couldn't spoil you like he wanted to, but you never seemed to mind. Everything was fine the way it was.

"You find your ways, Pete," you hummed as you put your plate on the sink counter. Climbing off the tub so you could kneel on the floor next to the tub. His eyes were glued to yours. A questioning glint to them that begged for you to explain further.

"You don't need money to spoil someone. You pamper me with little things. Like your affection and how romantic you can be," you smiled, because he truly was a sap. He loved spending nights cuddling with you. Kissing over your body while reminding you how beautiful you were. Praising you for carrying his baby. Your baby. Making dinner for you on the nights that you couldn't bring yourself to. Or simply taking you and Mayday to the park to get some ice-cream and be a family.

"If it weren't for you, I probably would have never had little Mayday, either," you admitted, and he raised a brow. "Really?" He questioned, and you nodded.

"I never really wanted kids. Not until we started dating. You made me realize that I don't need to be scared of that sort of commitment ever again. You gave me a beautiful daughter," he felt his heart racing at your words. "I never really wanted a kid before you, either. It scared me, being a superhero and all." You both chuckled at that. Staring at one another for a moment or two.

"I guess we both spoiled each other in that department," you told him, and he nodded. "Guess so."

When Peter and yourself finally finished eating, that's when you helped him wash his hair. Something that he was going to do himself, but when you offered to do so. He just laid back and let you.

Your fingers pulled through his hair. Nails scratching his scalp just right while you spread the shampoo. A soft moan leaving his lips while his eyes fell shut. It had you smiling to yourself. Biting your bottom lip to try and keep it from growing any wider.

You leaned in to press a kiss to his shoulder. Your hands trailing down his chest while you leaned in closer to his ear. Peter's eyes opening when he felt your breath on his ear. His eyes trailing down to your chest. Catching a glimpse of the lavender bra under your bathrobe. The thought of you in lingerie had him grunting. His cock twitching to life under the water. It had been too long since the two of you had done anything like this. Something that wasn't a quickie before he left for work after his lunch break, while Mayday was down for her afternoon nap.

"God, I love you so much," he muttered, and you giggled. Pressing a kiss to his temple. "Scoot down so I can wash your hair out, goofball," you teased, and he felt his heart thumping. "Yes Ma'am."

Once his hair was all washed it was time for him to call it a night. Eyes begging for you to take him to the bedroom so you could both fuck like rabbits. Before Mayday that's what it felt like you two were. Primal Animals that only knew how to fuck or make love. Whatever mood Peter was in that night deciphered how he screwed you.

Tonight he wanted to pamper you. To really spoil you since he knew you planned to do the same to him. Gosh, "I'd do anything to be between those thighs," He murmured out loud. A dumbstruck look on his face. He hadn't even noticed he said it out loud, and you knew it. A giggle escaping your lips while you leaned forward. Ghosting your lips over his. "Not if I'm between yours first," you cooed, and he shuddered.

His face was a slight red out of embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say that to you out loud, but it wouldn't be the first lewd thing he'd ever said to you. Peter was fairly good at telling you what he wanted and how he wanted to do it. The more lust filled he got, the less of a sensor he had.

It was like a race for the both of you. Peter standing from the tub while flicking the switch so the water would drain. Scrambling out of it while you laughed and giggled with him. The both of you doing your best to be quiet so Mayday wouldn't wake up.

You ran for the bedroom. Feet pattering against the wooden floor while he did the same. Shutting the door behind himself before he pulled you in for a kiss that he craved. One that you both craved, really.

"I know you're wearing it," he spoke against your lips. Pulling the string of your bath robe so it would fall open. He was quick to pull back so he could see your frame better. "You still like it?" You asked, and he was quick to nod. His fingers running up your sides to your breasts. Giving them both a light squeeze with a groan. "Baby, I never want you to take it off," he chuckled, and you both knew that was a lie. By the end of the night he'd have it ripped off you and in a pile on the floor.

His lips came in contact with your neck. Fiery touches that you would never get used to. Your own powers were controlled by the sun, yet this heat was always so unfamiliar to you. So nice.

"Peter," you sighed as he sucked on your skin. Your body jolting when his fingers pinched your nipples through your bra. "You're so gorgeous, you know that?" He asked against your skin. Licking over your collar bone. You chuckled with a nod, "You tell me all the time," "Yeah, well I don't say it damn near enough." You rolled your eyes at his comment, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "Yeah, and I don't tell you how good of a boy you are for me enough, either," he let out a grumble of a moan against your skin. It was so easy to rile him up, you loved it.

"May I?" You asked, ghosting your fingertips over his shaft, and he nodded. "Words, Peter," you demanded, and he shuddered. "Yes... Yeah, please," he mewled, and you snickered. He was already a mess.

You shrugged the robe off, allowing it to fall to the floor to give his hands more access to your skin. Your hand quick to reach between your lovers legs and grab him. Giving him a slow stroke before stopping to squeeze the base. His head fell onto your shoulder. A sigh leaving his lips while he gripped your hips.

"I need you," he called, "God, I need you so bad, don't tease me," he cried a little, and you had half a mind to listen, but you didn't want to. You had other plans for the night. You wanted to draw out this time you both had together for as long as you could.

"No," you purred, and the whine that he let out was heavenly. "Now, don't pout, Petey," you purred, "be a good boy for me and I'll reward you," he nodded frantically. He just wanted you to carry on and do something. Anything.

When you started to drop to your knees he felt his heart stutter in his chest. Everywhere your hands grazed as you slid down to the floor was on fire. At this point he couldn't tell if it was from his excitement, or if you were doing it yourself.

Your hand stroked his shaft a couple more times. Peter watching with excited eyes. His thighs shaking while he fought the urge to thrust forward.

"You can touch me, Peter," you told him, and he nodded. His shaky hands coming to tangle in your hair. One staying on the top of your head while the other came to cup the side of your face.

"Will you be good?" You asked, and he nodded. "I know you will," you hummed, kissing his hip. Listening to the moan that left his throat just from having your lips so close to where he wanted you the most. He craved you to the point that it hurt.

When you did finally reach his cock, the noise he made was unreal. Your eyes darting up to his with warning. One of his hands shot up to cover his mouth. A soft 'sorry, my love,' falling from his lips. He truly didn't mean to be as loud as he was. He could never help it. He prayed that one day the two of you could find a babysitter for Mayday so neither of you had to hold back as much as you both did.

Your head bobbed and he felt his knees shaking all ready. His brow knitting together while his chest began to heave. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were like an angel. On your knees, committing sin. The thought made him shudder. A hum rumbling from his chest while his head lolled to the side. "Feels so... Good," he purred, and you hummed in response. The vibration sending a wave of pleasure through his body. Both hands shooting to the top of your head so he could stable himself. His mouth slightly parted while his vision grew blurry from the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes.

"God, like that, shit," he spewed out words. You knew he was close, even if you couldn't sense it like he could sense your own approaching orgasms. You would know from how many times you've made him cum in your relationship.

You didn't allow him to, though. Another groan leaving his lips while he buckled forward. His hips thrusting forward a little in an attempt to chase your mouth. "Dammit, I was so close," he slurred, and you chuckled. Leaving an open mouthed kiss on the side of his cock. "I know, and you did so good for me baby," you purred, and he whined. He had such mixed feelings for your praising tease. He loved it, but he also despised it.

"How about I reward you now?" You asked, looking up to your lover with a grin. He was quick to nod in agreement. Licking his lips while he waited anxiously for what you had to say next.

"You wanna fill me up tonight?" "You have no idea," he practically growled. The sound of his voice. The switch from whiny to damn near feral. It went straight to your core. Your breath hitching as he helped pull you to your feet. Pushing you back until you were on the bed.

He fell on top of you. Caging your body with his own. Something seemed to snap in his eyes and it excited you more than taking control over him. It wasn't often that you let him be in complete control, but right now. All you could think of is what he had said in the tub.

"You still want your head between my thighs?" You asked, and his eyes were quick to meet yours again. A smirk pulling at his lips while he stared down at you. "I'd live there if I could, baby," you both chuckled a little at this, but you both knew it was true, too. There were some mornings that you'd wake up to his head between your thighs. Eating you like you were his last meal on earth. He'd just give you head if you'd let him. He never really expected anything in return from you.

He lips crashed down onto yours. A kiss that had you both gasping for air when he was done. Teeth on teeth that led to his tongue exploring your mouth.

His hands were on their own mission. Scaling your body. Taking in every dip and curve that you had. Memorizing you like he did every other time he touched you. If he didn't have any other responsibilities, he could stay in this position with you forever. Touching your body while kissing you with fervor.

One of his hands cupped your breast. The other resting on your thigh. His lips finally parting from yours with a string of saliva still connecting you both. A smug and dreamy smile on his face. "I love you," he hummed, and you giggled. "I love you, too," you told him, and his smile grew. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you.

His lips trailed over the top of your breasts. Kissing and sucking. Leaving little marks on the soft skin. His hand on your thigh sliding up your body so he could take both of your breasts in his hands. Squeezing and toying with your sensitive mounds of flesh. Your back arching with soft noises that left your throat. Every sound that you made only fed his ego more than it did before.

His mouth replaced one of his hands. Mouthing over the thin fabric that his your nipples from the air. Saliva wetting your skin through the fabric. A sharp inhale coming from you when he nipped your sensitive skin. Your fingers gripping his shoulders while he teased your body. He knew what drove you crazy. Just like you knew what drove him crazy.

His free hand trailed down to your panties. His hand cupping your sex with a moan. He could feel how hot you were down there and it drove him wild. His middle and index finger running over your mound. Feeling how wet you were through the fabric of the lingerie. It was intoxicating him. Just as much as his touch was intoxicating you.

His mouth switched over to your other breast. Biting the flesh while he pushed your panties to the side to slip his middle finger inside of you. A gasp leaving your throat while you tugged at his hair. "Pete!" you snapped, and he grunted, "'M sorry, you're just so good," he moaned against your skin. His now free hand reaching behind you to undo the bra that kept him from your bare skin. Gibing him the chance to abuse your nipples without the fabric in the way. Though, it didn't last long before his mouth was trailing down your stomach. Leaving wet kisses on his way down.

Once he met your clothed sex with his face he felt himself growing impatient. Nudging your clothed clit with his nose. "You're so pretty like this," he sounded drunk. He practically was. Anytime he had sex he was. He was intoxicated by you. You were his perfect drug.

His fingers hooked your underwear. Pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. Peter blew on your sex. Keeping your legs apart with his strong grip. "Stay still for me, please," he asked, looking up with pleading eyes. Though there was a hint of command behind them that had you clenching around nothing. You only nodded your head in agreement, which had him smiling.

He was quick to get to work. Licking up your slit. Your breath hitching while your fingers tangled in his hair. His hips bucking down into the bed to try and gather some sort of friction for himself.

He licked at your sensitive bud. Licking and sucking until you were squirming and on the verge of tears. Biting the back of your hand to hold back the cries that tried to bleed from your mouth.

"Taste so good," he rambled. Reaching a hand down to push two fingers inside you. Curling them up, then dragging them out. Slipping the digits past his lips to take a taste. Moaning around his fingers before slipping them out. "Heavenly," he sighed, before diving in once again. Lapping you up like a dog.

It wasn't long before you were summing on his tongue. You told him you were close, but he knew. Only abusing your clit until you were convulsing underneath him. If it weren't for you pushing his head away, he would have made you cum again, too.

"Peter, please," you cried, and he looked up from between your legs. "Just one more time," he tried to plea. Leaning down to lick your clit again. Your body jolting at the overstimulating feeling. "Peter, if you aren't inside me in the next ten seconds I swear to God," you snapped, and he smirked. "All right, all right," he chuckled, kissing your stomach before pulling himself up so he was positioned between your thighs.

He moved above you for a moment or two. Just staring down at you with those adoring eyes. You hated how he looked at you sometimes. It made your heart ache and wish that you had met him sooner than you had. He always made you feel so special and so loved.

"I want another kid," he blurted, "Maybe a little boy, he could have your eyes," he daydreamed out loud, and you nearly laughed. Yet, you couldn't. You only stared back up at him. Hearts practically in your eyes while you reached up to cup the sides of his face. "Only if he has your smile," he chuckled at your words. Leaning down to nuzzle your nose with his. "Is that a yes to baby number two?" He snickered, reaching down to rub your stomach. He was obsessed with you, and he couldn't get over the thought of you carrying another one of his kids. He was already crazy for you, but seeing you pregnant with his child? It did things to him, and you knew it, too. He wasn't shy about it.

"You like being a mommy?" He hummed, and you nodded, "Only for you," you chuckled, and he snickered. "You're a good one too. So loving, caring, rewarding," he winked with the last word, and you rolled your eyes. Swatting his chest. "Peter," he shrugged. "You are, I'm glad you are, too. Mommy. It's a good title for you," He cooed, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

"Peter, it's been over ten seconds," you reminded him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Bringing your hips up to meet his. The both of you shuddering at the friction. "All right," he sighed out, but instead of pressing himself inside of you like you wanted. He pulled away from you. A frown settling on your lips. "What?" "Hands and knees, now," you stared for a second. It never ceased to surprise you when he ordered you around, but you never really complained about it either.

Once you were maneuvered around he was quick to pull you closer to him by your hips. Leaning down to kiss the dip of your back. "Gonna fill you full," he murmured against your skin, rubbing the tip of his dick along the slit of your sex.

"Shit, Peter," you wined, leaning down to lay the side of your face on the bed. Peter let out a moan at the position you put yourself in. Ass in the air, face in the sheets. You were gorgeous.

He hushed you, biting his lip while putting his fingers against your lips. You sucked them into your mouth and he swore it was one of the hottest things you've done.

When he pressed inside of you, you both fought to stay quiet. Peter was practically falling apart above you. The thought of fucking a baby into you had him harder than he had expected. His hips giving a few testing rolls to make sure you were wet enough. Only moving when you gave a nod.

His thrusts were slow at first. Rolling against you with rhythm. Until they weren't. Until you begged him to move fasted and he had to listen to you.

Both of his hands were on your hips now. His own hips thrusting in and out of you at a past that had your whole body trembling. You pawed and gripped at the sheets. One of his hands keeping hold of your hip while the other reached for one of your hands. Intertwining his fingers with your own. Even while he was fucking you dumb he showed so much affection for you. It was almost overwhelming.

Peter leant over you. Pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade while he panted and moaned in your ear. The sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. The faster he got the further you got smothered into the bed. He was chasing that high that the both of you craved. When he felt his approaching, he was quick to reach between your thighs to rub your clit with the speed of his thrusts. Bringing the both of you to the highs that you desired. His hips slowing while he rolled out his orgasm and rubbed out your own.

Peter lay limp above you. His chest heaving on top of your back. One hand running up and down your side while the other squeezed and rubbed at your hand.

"One more?" He asked, and you chuckled. "Your libido's too high for your own good, Peter," you sighed, and he chuckled. Pulling out of you which caused the both of you to groan with distaste. "I'm not hearing a no?" He questioned with a brow raised. Helping you roll onto your back. "One more," you told him with a nod, and he grinned. "Maybe two?" "Pete, don't push it," you giggled, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck. Peter laughing into the kiss he gave you.

#peter b parker x reader #peter b parker #peter b parker smut #spiderman #the amazing spiderman smut #the amazing spider man #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #marvel #marvel smut #minors dni #notsfw

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ssailormoonn · 1 month

Text

❛ Self Care ❜

Postwar!Sasuke X Fem!Reader

WC; 2k + | !MDNI! | TW/CW; fab!fem!Reader,soft Sasuke like rlly soft and affectionate guys, body worship, reader is depicted as a medical ninja, this is so fluffy guys, use of {Y/n}, suggestive towards the end, fluff.

˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯; @lovelyandproblematic - ok since you asked and I have severe incurable Sasuke simp brain rot so if you ever need prompt ideas lmk! ty for being my fav tumblr creator rn 😍 SELF CARE SUNDAY W/ SASUKE! I’m talking face masks, eye masks, cute headbands, warm robes, and a nice candlelit bubble bath, the whole nine yards! He’d prolly never admit it but he def needs to be spoiled and might have to be forced bribed into participating (*cough* body worship? *cough*) but poor boy has been thru soo much he needs a night to relax and pls get some moisturizer on him stat! his skin must be screaming lmaooo

this is being depicted as sasuke being 19-20 years old, he's come back for a little while to Konoha from his redemption mission for a bit (he missed you :))

NARUTO/BORUTO MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

"I'll see you later, Sakura!" I hummed in content giving her a one armed hug as she did too as our arms were filled with only a couple bags.

Sakura pulled away from the hug after a few seconds with a warm smile plastered on her face. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" She asked.

"For what?" I replied in confusion.

"Lady Tsunade said she'd like to meet up with us," Sakura said. "I think she misses us but she doesn't admit it."

"Ah, I see," I replied with a slight laugh leaving my gloss covered lips. "I'll make sure not to drink to much tomorrow night then."

"I'll see you, {Y/n}," She said while waving walking away.

"Bye, love!" I replied.

I pulled out my keys from my bag and I slid the key into the lock placed on the traditional sliding door. Stepping inside with an exhausted huff I slump myself down on the step up into the house and slip off my ninja shoes and rest them onto the rack only to see another pair there, a male pair.

My lips parted when I started thinking about who's they might be and my heart fluttered when I realised Sasuke must be back. I've been out the entire day and it's quite late at night now, who knows how long Sasuke has been back.

I nibbled on my bottom lip. Sasuke has come to visit three times in the two years he's been out. When Sasuke came back a few months ago he said he wouldn't be coming back for a couple of years and now look at him, he's here. It's odd, I wonder if something happened?

I place my bags next to the stair case that leads up to the bedrooms.

I haven't seen Sasuke yet wondering around in our house so I assume he's sleeping or in our room, the poor boy, he must be so tired and exhausted. I quietly slide open the door to our bedroom and I was met with the sight of my lover sleeping peacefully on our bed, the dark blue comforter covering the entirety of his body while he snuggled into the sheets. The sight made a gentle smile cross my lips.

Quietly making my way over to Sasuke side of the bed, I placed my hand delicately on his exposed cheek and I leant down and pressed a warm and gentle kiss to his forehead. I felt his body relax under my touch and I smiled into the kiss before pulling away slowly.

I was about to walk into the bathroom but just before my hand could leave Sasuke pale cheek, I felt a hand holding mine. Turning to look back, I see Sasuke's tired eyes looking at me and I immediately frown in worry.

"Sorry, dear," I hummed quietly, leaning down to meet Sasukes eye's. "I woke you."

"Don't stress," Sasuke hummed back with a tired sigh.

"'M just going to go have a shower and I'll be right back," I hummed but Sasuke didn't let go of my hand. "Are you alright, my dear?"

Sasuke hummed showing that he was fine. "I won't be too long, Sasuke," I replied. "But it'll take longer if you don't let me go," I added with a soft smile.

I watched Sasuke sit up slowly still holding my hand and a few moments of silence passed until Sasukes head drooped to my stomach and I could tell how tired he was. My other hand brushed through his hair and I placed a kiss to the top of his head.

"Would you like to come with me?" I offered and he nodded tiredly against my stomach. "Alright."

"You go ahead, I'll be there in a second," Sasuke mumbled pulling away from me looking up at me with onyx and purple eyes.

"Okay," I smiled gently as Sasuke let go of my hand.

Sasuke made his way sluggishly through the door when I turned on the tap to fill up the bath. "I figured that a bath would be better, you seem really exhausted," I hummed as I watched Sasuke slump himself down on the stool next to the bath and lean his head against the wall.

I let out a sigh while turning around to the cabinets under the sink to bring out some bathing oils and vanilla scented body wash. "My love," I mumbled thinking about how tired Sasuke is. I had no knowledge on why he was so exhausted as the last couple times he came back home he seemed normal.

Maybe that's it, maybe something happened to Sasuke and I didn't notice and now he can't cope. I'm really a terrible girlfriend, I'm so stupid.

I pulled out some facial lotions and serums for myself before a =n interesting thought came into my head. Sasuke wouldn't mind if I used some of these on him would he?

A smile rose to my face and I saw Sasuke look at me at the mirror with a suspicious expression and I simply let out a soft giggle. I watched him shake his head before leaning it back to the wall while a small smile appeared on his face. Well whatever I'm doing sure seems to cheer him up.

"Are you hungry, love?" I asked Sasuke stepping to the bath adding the salts, oils and body lotion.

"A little bit," Sasuke mumbled.

"That means you are," I replied rolling my eyes at his slight lie. "What would you like for dinner? We can go out or I can cook something?"

"I'd like to stay in," Sasuke said standing up and to my surprise he stood behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist. "Beef tomato curry," He mumbled against the side of my neck and I smiled even though I knew he couldn't see.

I let out a soft laugh, "I'll make that for you, but it might take a some time to make, are you okay with that?"

"Yeah," Sasuke hummed briefly.

"Alright. You can go in," I said turning around gently in his arm. "I'll get dinner started and then I'll come in with you."

Sasuke gave me a soft kiss to my forehead before pulling away and his hand moving from my waist to cupping my cheek. "Don't be too long," Sasuke mumbled.

"I'll only be ten minutes, love," I replied. "I just need to cut things and put them in with broth."

──

I came back into the bathroom, like I said, ten minutes later as I was already pretty efficient with cutting things up relatively quickly. As I slid open the door I was met with the sight of Sasuke almost asleep in the bath and a soft smile crossed my lips at the sight. My tired boy.

I slipped of my ninja clothes and folded them neatly next to the sink next to Sasuke's grey sweats, as that was all he was wearing. I placed the serums and facial creams on the rim of the bathtub before I slid into the warm water.

Dinner will be ready in forty five minutes plus another ten minutes to cook the rice.

I sunk myself over Sasukes lap and I watched him open his eyes, with the rim of the Rinnegan peaking out from under his fringe. My hand cupped his cheek and I examined the condition of his skin and noticed that it was quite dry. I was planning to use my serums and skincare myself but I guess Sasuke had priority.

Squeezing some of the serum on the tips of my fingers I slowly applied the thick liquid over his face, my fingers slipping under his fringe even though I knew he didn't like me pushing it up. His nose scrunched ever so slightly when I did so which I found quite cute.

"When did you come home?" I calmly asked.

"Around midday," He replied. "I hoped that you would've been home."

"Sorry, Love. I was out shopping," I said, remembering about the bags I left downstairs full of groceries and some new clothes.

I applied some of the hydrating lotion to his face, taking in the beauty of it, he's so beautiful. "I thought you said you wouldn't be coming back for a while," I mumbled and Sasuke's hand held mine over his cheek.

Sasuke sighed before saying, "I wasn't feeling too well-"

"Are you sick?" I interrupted worried placing my other hand over his forehead only to realise that there was no fever or temperature. Sasuke is acting funny. "Well," I continued, "you look tired, Sasuke. Please relax for me."

He hummed in agreement closing his eyes in content as I continued to clean him up, only to realise that he was already really clean, his skin is quite dry though. "My love?" I asked and Sasuke gently opened his eyes.

"Yeah," He mummed.

"Did you shower before I got here?"

"I did," Sasuke replied. "I wouldn't have gone in bed dirty, I know how much you don't like the sheets getting dirty too fast."

"Yep," I said with a smile before I let my hands rest on the skin between his shoulders and neck. There was silence for longer than a few moments and my lips parted before I asked again, "Sasuke, why did you come home early? You said- you said you would be gone for a couple years."

"I missed what home felt like," Sasuke replied and I saw the lump he swallowed in his throat.

My brows furrowed in confusion. "You needn't worry, Sasuke. Our house will still be here no matter where you go," I murmured, leaning my forehead against his.

"I missed my home," Sasuke repeats as I cupped his cheeks.

My lips ghosted over his as I spoke, "You're home, love."

"I want you to come with me," Sasuke said.

"What?" I said breathlessly.

"I need my home to come with me."

My eyes widened in realisation. He wasn't talking about our house. Sasuke was talking about me.

Sasukes arm wrapped around my waist pulling me in closer causing me to let out a small gasp. "I'll come, Sasuke," I hummed as I closed my eyes and let my lips grace his own.

The lip balm I had on soothing his chapped lips.

I was his home and he was doing wandering around doing who knows what without it, without me.

Something came over my and I pressed my lips to his inciting a groan from his mouth as my tongue slipped into his mouth. His arm moved and tightened around my waist, pulling me inevitably closer into him than I already was.

Heat pooled in my stomach as Sasukes dick pressed up at my entrance and I let out a breathless sigh into his mouth before I pulled away. "Let me touch you," I asked while I nipped at the skin below his ear, leaving subtle red marks in it's path.

"You don't need to ask me anything," Sasuke groaned. "Do what you want."

I mumbled a thank you from my mouth while my hands ran down his arms, shoulders, and his toned abs. Sasukes head lolled back, leaning against the edge of the bathtub.

"You're so beautiful," I mumbled in between breaths of me marking up the base of his neck.

His arm tightened around my waist further and he pressed my down as much as he could to his dick and I let out a moan against his neck as Sasuke sighed in content.

"So beautiful."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

MASTER LIST

NARUTO/BORUTO MASTER LIST | UCHIHA MASTER LIST

if you would like to be apart of my tag list for sasuke please dm me or comment it down!! if you would like to be apart of the entirety of naruto taglist, comment or dm that please :)

taglist - @enouche @lovelyandproblematic

#sasuke x reader #sasuke x y/n #sasuke x you #sasuke x reader smut #sasuke smut #sasuke uchiha smut #naruto smut

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slutforaemondtargaryen · 6 months

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Nobody hurts what's mine | Aemond Targaryen

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: fluff, mention of rape (not by Aemond), murder/death, blood, slightly dark Aemond, no use of y/n, traumatic event

Summary: While Aemond was out on duty a Lord from the court took advantage of you. Aemond will definitely not let that slide.

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: hi! i really don't know how i thought of this. i've never written anything like that so it's probably not the best quality, but i hope you like it and enjoy it! any support is very much appreciated.

reblogs, likes and comments are very appreciated <3

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WORK!

She was sitting in their chambers, Aemond not present. She couldn't stop thinking about what happened.

It was supposed to be a quick dinner with the rest of the court. She would drink a few goblets of wine, eat some food, and quickly disappear to her chambers, where she would fall asleep.

She wasn't planning that Lord Lannister would follow her. He clearly had a few more drinks than he should've. His walking was not very straight.

Before she could even react, he pulled her aside to an empty hallway. She tried to fight him, but he forced himself upon her, putting a hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. She bit him multiple times however he didn't seem to feel it at all.

It was probably quick for him. For her, it were the longest minutes of her life. When he was done he just whispered ''Don't tell anyone or something bad will happen.'' and disappeared back to the dining hall.

She quickly went to her chambers. She told a maid to prepare her a bath as quickly as possible and requested moon tea. The maid sent for the moon tea without asking questions nevertheless made sure to let her Lord husband know. The bath was prepared in no time.

Her skin was raw from how strongly she washed her body, the places Lord Lannister touched. Scratches from her nails as she tried so hard to get the awful feeling off her. She felt so dirty all the segments of her skin that his disgusting hands touched. It felt like they were on fire. Tears streamed down her cheeks as everything slowly sunk in. The realization of what actually happened.

So many thoughts were running through her head. Does this mean I was unfaithful to Aemond? Was it my fault? Did I deserve it? Did I provoke him? What if Aemond finds out? What will happen? Will he blame me?

She stepped out of the bath. Water was dripping on the floor, but she did not care. The robe she put on was comfortable, like silky sheets that were caressing her aching skin.

The moon tea was already served on the table, waiting just for her. She drank it quickly, making sure there was no drop left. Praying to the Seven that she would not be with a baby of the filthy Lannister.

When Aemond got the message, he immediately canceled everything he was doing and returned to the King's Landing. He needed to know what made his wife ask for moon tea, and he had a feeling that he won't like it.

When he arrived at the King's Landing, he got off Vhagar's back and without talking to anyone, headed to his shared chambers. He walked quickly, ignoring his mother, Queen Alicent, on the way.

The guards opened the chambers to him. When he looked into the chamber he saw his Lady wife sitting in the armchair in front of the fireplace. She didn't even notice he was there. The doors closed behind him as he walked up to his wife.

He kneeled next to the armchair and sighed. ''One of the maids sent me some information,'' he said while placing his hand on hers. She flinched slightly, which caused him to put his hand away. Wounded a little. ''Is it true that you ordered the moon tea?'' he asked with a soft voice, not wanting to make her feel pressured.

She nodded. She didn't feel like talking at all, she was scared of Aemond's reaction. ''Why?'' he asked. He wanted to touch her, caress her hand, hair, anything, but he wanted to respect her comfort zone.

She kept silent. The bad habit of scratching her fingers until they are bleeding coming back. Aemond noticed it and took her hands in his which made her look at him.

He kneeled in front of her, his face desperate and worried. He loved her too much and he was scared of what happened. His hair was loose over his shoulders. He was wearing his clothes for riding, which he usually took off right after. Not now, his wife was his priority.

He kissed her hands gently, causing her eyes to swell up with tears. Aemond did not understand what was happening so he hugged her. He wanted her to know that he was there for her. She cried over his shoulder and they both sat there like that for a few minutes.

Aemond finally started getting what happened. Why his lady wife has requested the moon tea and why she was crying now. He only needed a name. A name of the bastard that laid his hands upon her, who forced himself upon her.

''Who?'' only came out of his lips. His voice was demanding although gentle at the same time. ''Lord Lannister,'' she said in between sobs, clutching on him even more, scared that he would leave her. That he was disgusted by her.

Aemond's lilac eye darkened. How did the filthy Lannister dare to touch his wife while he was away? He would pay for it, and Aemond would make sure that Lord Lannister would regret every second of the terror he did to his wife.

He got pulled out of his thoughts when she said something he never thought he would hear. The sentence 'Are you disgusted with me?' ringing in his ears.

He pulled a little away to look into her eyes. ''What? No of course not, my dear wife.'' He caressed her head slowly while she looked at him with glossy eyes. He could see how much pain she had endured. ''Why would you think that, little dragon?'' he was a little sad that her head would even come up with it.

''Because of...'' she looked away. ''Of what he did. What if it was my fault? What if I-'' Aemond cut her off with a gentle 'shh' ''Do not say those words again. It was not your fault, never think that. That pig of a Lannister cannot keep his hands to himself, and he will pay.''

He kissed her forehead. ''There is nothing that could make you disgusting to me.'' she smiled at that, clearly relieved. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. ''I love you, little dragon.'' he pulled her into his chest and kept caressing her hair. ''I love you too,'' she replied.

Those words made Aemond's body fill with warmth. He loved her so much, too much. He would kill for her, burn the world for her only to make sure that she was happy and safe. He loved her to such depths that he would betray his family if she asked him to. He hated it, but he knew that his life without her would not make sense.

When she fell asleep at night after many comfort hours with Aemond he went to finally take his revenge for his wife. He wanted to do it earlier, the second he found out but he couldn't leave his little dragon alone, not in that state.

He was furious when he found out that Lord Lannister left the King's Landing, and returned to Casterly Rock due to 'important issues'. He tried to run away. Coward. Aemond thought.

This wasn't going to stop him. He would get his revenge even if it meant he had to go to Casterly Rock.

He rode Vhagar. Oh, how he wished to see Lannister's face when he saw Aemond's dragon. Aemond didn't waste any time finding a place to land. He landed on the castle grounds, not caring about some towers falling because of Vhagar's wings. Why would he anyway?

He heard people screaming, some panicking. Aemond didn't care. He headed inside the castle. A young maid helped him find Lord Lannister's chambers. Such a sweet servant girl, she didn't know that she was helping the murderer to kill her Lord.

When Aemond barged into the chambers he saw Lord Lannister packing things in fear. ''You won't need them,'' Aemond told him. His tone was so horrifying that many courageous guards would run away in fear.

''What do you want?'' Lord Lannister said, his eyes filled with fear. ''What do I want?'' Aemond repeated slowly. He twirled with his dagger between his fingers. ''Don't you know that you shouldn't touch things that are not yours?'' he asked. His whole demeanor was calm which was surprising to Lord Lannister.

He didn't reply, instead, he tried to grab a sword nearby. Before he could even reach him he screamed in pain. Aemond's dagger was in his hand. ''Was that hand first?'' Aemond asked with a coy smirk. ''Doesn't matter you're going to lose both.''

Aemond ripped the dagger out of his hand and cut it off in a swift motion. Blood flowed out on the marble floor. Lord Lannister screamed in pain, he tried to clutch the hand to stop the bleeding but Aemond wouldn't let him. He loved his pained screams so much. ''You're a little cunt, aren't you? Taking advantage of my lady wife when I'm not there. You really thought I wouldn't find out?'' Aemond snickered.

''I told that bitch to not tell anyone,'' Lannister said. Aemond got furious when he heard Lannister call his little dragon a 'bitch'. Without waiting for anything he cut off his other hand.

''This is going to start a war between us, boy!'' Lannister gritted out. He was angry, and Aemond smirked. ''So be it,'' with that word, Aemond slit Lord Lannister's throat.

#aemond targaryen #aemond angst #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #fanfiction #fluff #aemond fluff #house of the dragon #house lannister #house targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #hotd fanfic

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dark-and-kawaii · 2 months

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୨♡୧ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 ୨♡୧

Raphael x Reader/Tav

₊˚⊹♡ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʀᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ'ꜱ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ, ꜱᴏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ…

₊˚⊹♡ ɪ ᴛᴇᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ @octarinecat ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʙ!! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɢᴏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴅʀᴀᴡɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ!!!

₊˚⊹♡ Soft Raphael | Tender | Comfort | You’re His Little Mouse | ♡

Who could have fathomed that the devil’s weakness would be so quaint, so profoundly human? Raphael, no matter the mindset of his mood, became so tame with just a simple tender caress, your fingers dancing lightly across his skin. The flutter of his long lashes, as they closed in a quiet surrender, would always steal your breath away. There lay an unspeakable beauty in his eyes, in his lashes, you swore they were like invisible chains keeping you here at his side.

Your cherished moments were those when he would sit at his desk, writing up some new contract frustratingly, his temperament almost irate. Clad in your silk robe, draped loosely around you, you would approach the devil- your devil, wrapping him in the warmth of an embrace from behind. Your fingers always tracing the hidden strength of his muscles, clothed yet palpable. The way he would abandon his quill, freeing his hand to secure yours against him, a gesture so simple yet so profoundly intimate. Raphael would recline, a soft sigh parting his lips, yielding to the serenity of your touch, the gentle graze of your nails ever so soothing.

As sleep beckoned him, Raphael found himself seeking you out, a secret desperation for your presence whispering through him. Whether you lounged on his plush couch, lay amidst opulent pillows on the floor near his bath, or awaited him in the shared sanctuary of his bed, each time he’d find solace in your embrace. “You know what I enjoy, little mouse,” a quiet command to which you were only too willing to oblige.

With his shirt cast aside, your nails sketched visions and dreams upon his back, his head nestled within the warmth of your lap as you continued your gentle ministrations. Each bite into his skin drew forth a deeper shiver of pleasure, painting a genuine smile upon your face. The delight of having such a formidable fiend so exposed, so vulnerable beneath your touch… My how it elicited a soft chuckle from your lips.

And each time you chuckled, the roles would reverse and you found yourself beneath him, the devil straddling your hips, his smirk devilishly charming. "Something amusing, pet?" he would challenge, striving to wield control, to maintain his powerful facade around you. Yet, when you slipped your hand from his grasp and traced your nails delicately along his cheek, he would find himself leaning into your touch, surrendering once more before pressing a kiss into your palm, his sharp teeth nipping at your skin, “My little mouse,”

#beautiful collab with a beautiful person xoxo #𝓚𝓲𝔀𝓲 & 𝓞𝓬𝓽 𝔁𝓸𝔁𝓸 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #tav #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate #raphael x tav #raphael bg3 x reader #bg3 x reader

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marthawrites · 9 days

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Devour

Daemon Targaryen x wife reader

Word count: 1.8k+

About: The early days of your moon's blood are always the worst. During your suffering, your husband, the Rogue Prince, takes it upon himself to help ease you.

Includes: FILTHY SMUT. FILTH. Featuring established relationship (husband x wife), Daemon is sweet to his wife, menophilia (aka period kink), menstural cramps, reader is emotional, menstural blood, pussy eating, dirty talk, face/blood licking, and unprotected vaginal sex. I think that's all apologies if I missed anything!

Note: Hello lovely reader! This fic was inspired by my dragon friends ♥ Double warning: Please keep in mind the content of this fic. If you do not like it, do not read this. I've never wrote anything like this before! It was definitely out of my "comfort zone" but I had a lot of fun with it! Reader is implied to have a painful first couple days of her period. Reader is implied to "not have dragon's blood", and she's from an unspecified House. Other than that, reader is non-descript. As always, please enjoy!

Banner made by the incredible and sweet @zaldritzosrose who went above and beyond for this impromptu writing challenge!

Despite leaving it unattended, steam continued to rise from your abandoned bath. Your fingertips were pruned, as were your toes, and your skin bloomed with heat. If you could handle the temperature for even one more minute you’d still be in the tub allowing your husband, the Rogue Prince, to add hot water from the hearth whenever it grew tepid. But, unlike your husband, you didn’t have dragon’s blood; the heat affected you easier than it did him.

You sat in a chair in front of your vanity, now, patting your skin dry with a warmed towel. Your bath wasn’t one for cleanliness. No, not at this time. It was one for comfort. For relief. A ripe womb was both a blessing and a curse to women.

The beginning of your moon’s blood was always the worst. It came with cramps and fatigue–neither of which faded for the first day or two. Even though you’d only been sitting for a short time, you knew there’d be a smear of red upon the chair’s protective linens once you stood.

You had been in the bath for nearly an hour. The most divine hour. Not once during that time did you suffer any cramps. Now that you were out, however? You pushed on your lower belly in an attempt to ease the pain, nostrils flaring with it.

“Can I get you anything, sweetling?” Daemon asked in a voice that was both concerned and gentle.

Shaking your head, you answered, “no, no I don’t think so.”

“Perhaps you should get back into the tub for a bit?”

The sweetness in his tone touched your emotions, and for a moment you had to blink back tears. “The heat makes me faint after so long. I’d hate to make you deal with me passing out while I’m in this…,” you waved a hand, gesturing to yourself, “condition.”

“Come lay down then,” he said easily. He grabbed one of your robes–a lovely cotton piece with a silken sash and delicate embroidery–and walked to you. Helping you into it, he didn’t bother tying it before guiding you to your marital bed.

Smiling softly, you kissed him. “Thank you, husband.”

Daemon pushed you down with care, chasing your warm, soft lips all the while. He loomed above you while supporting himself with one arm. “My poor little wife. You must be very sore today?” He asked, fluttering kisses along your jaw. Your neck.

Goosebumps rose to the top of your skin beneath his affection. There was no doubt Daemon adored you. He had a reputation across King’s Landing, the Stepstones, Pentos, and likely many places between–people and their constant wagging tongues. But, whatever harsh words were said about him, his ambition, hot-temper, and moodiness, your saccharine charm–and occasional fiery tongue–soothed him. He cared for you. Truly.

“Yes,” you answered. “The Gods punish me for not giving you a little dragon. Only when my womb is full and growing with your babe will these stop. And the pain of bringing your child into the world will be worth it.” Sadness clung to your words. It sent your eyelashes glittering, too, as you looked up at him.

He shushed you. “It will happen. The process of making a child is where all the fun is, anyway,” he said with the twinkle of a wink.

If you had more energy you might argue with him about it. But alas you didn’t. You simply offered a little nod. “I think I’ll rest now. Wake me for supper?”

One of his palms trailed up your side, gripping into the softness of your waist. “Who said anything about resting now?” He asked with a quirk of his fair brow. “Because surely I didn’t.”

The feel of him touching you like this immediately sent a different sort of ache in those low muscles in your belly. It was a marvel how your body always reacted to him. No matter how small or subtle, your senses always bent to him. “Daemon…,” you whispered against his mouth. “What’re you–,”

That same hand lowered from your waist and wandered between your thighs. He knew how to silence your pesky questions. “What kind of a husband would I be if I let you suffer anymore than you need to?”

“...a husband like any other?” You proclaimed half in jest and half in truth.

“And am I a husband like any of these other daft cunts?”

You giggled. “No. You’re Daemon Targaryen, brother of the King and–oh!” His fingers brushed that delicate space between your thighs and you purred. You were always so, so sensitive during your moon’s blood.

“Lay there and look pretty. Let me help in a way that I can,” he said, voice hot and gravely as he lowered to lay between your thighs.

Mortification quickly filled you with the prospect of what he was going to do. He’d never done anything like this before! Not during your cycle! “You needn’t do th–ah!” Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as your husband’s slid over your clit. Seven Hells he meant to do it and he wasn’t going to let you say no or push him away.

While he’d never done this during your cycle before, he has pleasured you in other ways. He knew how sensitive you were during it. He kept his attention on your bud, circling and flicking over it with lazy laps.

Embarrassment melted into lust as Daemon continued. You hardly knew what to think or do! Was this really happening? Your hips began to slowly grind along with him, cunt seeking further attention and friction.

“There you are…,” he said, grinning a feral blood-stained grin up at you. His eyes sparkled with dark delight. “Don’t fight it. Let me make you feel good.”

You nearly came at the sight. Holy shit it was so wrong and so… exciting. You gasped in equal pleasure and surprise as his tongue dipped lower than before. Instead of lavishing your pearl again and again, it slid and teased your entrance. Daemon’s groan barely made it to your ears but you felt it against your core. He actually worked his tongue in and out of you. Fucking you with the warm muscle. “G-ods!” You panted, hands flying down to tangle in his hair.

His hands moved and held firmly onto your hips, wide grip holding onto your ass and hips alike. Your soft flesh yielded to him and he fucking loved the way his fingers dented into your skin. He coaxed you along, letting you ride your bliss on his face; using him as he’s often used your mouth for pleasure.

A metallic scent hung in the air around you. Once again, embarrassment and shame filled you as your hazy mind realized that was your metallic scent. Rich, coppery, thick. Part of you knew he had to be a mess right now–your blood smeared all across his pale Targaryen features. Yet, he never stopped. He could have. Multiple times. He could have used his fingers like he’s done in the past. Or eased his aching cock into your body. But, no. He chose this. He wanted this. Your blood on his tongue, lips, face. The taste of your earthy sweet arousal and coppery lifesblood. No part of you was forbidden to him. He would fucking devour you whole before he let you think there was any part of you not worth his devotion.

Pleasure coiled so tightly in your belly you’d forgotten all about your previous pains. When your bliss peaked, you fell into a beautiful darkness that had you coming back to your body shaky and tingly.

With uneven breaths, and a lopsided smile of release, you looked down the front of your body just in time to watch Daemon push up. Your husband was fucking magnificent. He looked insane. Crazed. The gleam of his Targaryen eyes zeroed in on you.

“You are the most irresistible creature,” he said, sitting up on his knees before pulling you up to him.

Your relaxed muscles followed his movement. His smile was a dark, wondrous thing. Blood smeared his mouth, chin, nose. You’d never seen him like this before. You looked up at him, wordless and breathless, eyes communicating everything your mouth couldn’t.

Daemon’s hand wrapped around the front of your throat, holding and forcing your attention on him–as if your attention could be on anything else right now. “Kiss me,” he said. “Lick all your blood off my face like the good little wife you are.”

Tension thrilled throughout your entire body. Your eyes widened at his proposition. You gulped and opened your mouth to say something. But, again nothing came out.

“You heard me. Kiss me and tell me ‘thank you’ for eating your bleeding cunt.”

A sound came from you. A whine. A whimper. Something. And then your mouth was on his. You tasted yourself on him, your arousal and lifesblood, and it sparked something deep inside you. “Thank you,” you breathed against his mouth. Your kiss was all lips and tongue; a needy thing. “Thank you.”

He groaned in satisfaction. “Anything for you,” he said on the edge of humor. He still held your throat, but it was lighter now.

You licked over his lips. It felt… right. To worship him as he worshiped you. You licked up the center of his nose, then across the tip, before kissing over its bridge when it was clean. Your mouths crashed together again and he kissed you as fervently as you did him. It was debauched. Filthy. Yet… with Daemon–your husband–no limits existed.

“What do you say about making this a normal thing, hm?” He asked, releasing your throat to instead squeeze your breasts. Your nipples were already pebbled; eager as the rest of you. He rolled, and pinched, and squeezed the sensitive mounds, knowing how you enjoyed those played with, too.

You nodded wordlessly. The ache at your center roared to life again; lust demanding more. You behaved, though, and began licking over his chin. Your tongue dragged along it, the natural texture and taste of his skin sending yours prickling. He had small traces of your blood on his cheeks, too, and you lapped those away next.

“Such a good wife,” he said, proud.

Your smile kissed him again. “I feel much better now.”

Smirking like the dragon he was, he pushed you back on the bed. He opened the ties of his breeches until his hard cock sprang free. With your thighs spilled around his waist he wasted no time in slotting between them. The head of his cock pressed against you, your wetness already coaxing him to slide into your body. “Let me in,” he growled.

“Please,” you moaned. “Easy, though. Please.”

He already planned that. Your plea was all he needed. With a push he sunk into you, filling you wholly and completely. With gentle power, he fucked you until all of those cramping muscles were deeply relaxed. Until you were deeply relaxed.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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aerynwrites · 8 months

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Perks of The City

Gale Dekarios x afab!Reader

A/N: this is based on an anon request I was sent asking for bathhouse NSFW with Gale! The actual request disappeared from my inbox but I wrote it anyways. So nanny, whoever you are, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY! Smut, PiV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is on top lol, kissing, some non sexual intimacy as well, bathing together, fluff.

While being in Baldur’s Gate and closer to the absolutes hopeful end is a daunting task, being back in the city does have its perks.

Soft warm beds at the Elfsong Tavern, food vendors instead of campfire cooking, and bathhouses.

You’d lived the life of an adventurer long enough to become accustom to washing away the days battles in rivers and random lakes. However, the thought of a warm, steaming, tub makes a shiver of anticipation run through you.

Gale mirrors your excitement, folding changes of clothes for the both of you before putting them away into a pack and hoisting it over his shoulder.

“I never though the prospect of something as simple as a bath, would make me so excited. But when one’s been bathing in rivers for nigh over a month, well…”

“It sounds like heaven on earth?” You supply, taking his hand as you both exit the Elfsong to head towards you destination.

Gale turns and smiles at you. “Precisely.”

The trip to the bathhouse is short, since it’s so conveniently located near the tavern, and the moment you both are shown to the private bathing room you paid for, you almost melt into the floor.

The room is much smaller than the typical vastness of the communal part of the bathhouse, but you find you much prefer it this way. There’s a few benches along the wall across the room, you assume a place for you to set your things. And separating you from the other side of the room is the one thing you’ve been waiting all day for.

The bath.

It’s absolutely huge, taking up most of the room. It’s sunken into the stone floor, water filled high and curls of steam coming off the surface. The room is thick with moist air from the hot water and a subtle pleasant aroma tickles your nose.

Off to the right hand of the room you see a few shelves attached to the walls with towels, soaps of various scents, and even some small bottles of what you assume to be bath oils.

An appreciative groan escapes Gale as he takes in the scene and you can’t help but giggle as he immediately tugs at his clothes.

“Eager are we?” You ask, starting to pull at the ties of your own shirt.

Gale lets out a chuckle of his own. “While I may have fallen into the life of adventuring as of late, before the tadpoles I was ah…Let’s just say I’m not used to lacking the basic comforts usually afforded to me.”

You snort, tugging your shirt over your head before stepping in front of your lover, taking over in removing his outer robes.

“So you were spoiled, is what you’re saying?”

Gale lets out an affronted scoff, faux offense evident on his face. “Wha-spoiled? I would hardly call a fresh bath every now and then spoiled,” he defends, dropping his arms as you push his clothing from his shoulders. “Most would call it basic hygiene, but I suppose to those used to living on the road it might be seen as waste of precious time.”

You roll your eyes at his banter and you both shed the last of your clothes before you turn to dip a foot into the steaming water.

“Well, time is no constraint here,” you say, turning once you’re fully submerged in the water to reach out to your partner. “I’ve rented it for the whole day.”

Gale follows you into the water, trying and failing to hide his satisfied moan as he sinks into the slightly scalding water.

“The whole day?” He says, sinking to his shoulders in the deep pool before reaching to take you into his arms. “And what on earth could we possibly do In the bathhouse to waste the day away?”

Your eyes sparkle with mischief, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, your hands sliding up his chest slowly before resting on his shoulders as your lips trail down to just below his ear.

“I could think of plenty of things,” you whisper, tugging his earlobe between your teeth, his earring tinkling softly.

Gale lets out a strangled sound, his hands falling to your hips, giving them a firm squeeze. But you pull away before he can tug you closer, smiling wickedly at his betrayed gaze.

“But I’d like to bathe first,” you say, quirking a brow. “As long as that’s okay with you?”

Gale is not a foolish man. He can see the silent demand for what it is. A request that’s not really a request. You’re asking, but you’re not. If he were to argue, the wizard knows you’d drag this out even longer, and he doesn’t know if he can stand your teasing today.

He smiles, barely hiding his impatience. “Of course, my love,” he says, reaching behind him to take one of the bars of soap from the shelf near the wall at the edge of the sunken tub. “Allow me?”

You grin and move closer to him in silent agreement, reaching over his shoulder for your own bar of soap as he moves his hands to your body.

The next long stretch of moments pass in comfortable silence, both of you taking the time to wash one another in silent reverence. His hands slide over your skin effortlessly, scrubbing when needed but otherwise gentle and non provocative, even when he touches more intimate parts of you.

In tandem, you take your time to let your own hands roam and clean. Hands sliding over his chest, fingers ghosting through the sparse hair there before moving up to his shoulders and then continuing their journey until you’re both cleaner than you’ve been in weeks.

Eventually, Gale takes your hand in his own, gentle urging you to face away from him. “Turn around,” he says gently before urging your head back and cupping his hands to bring water up to wet your hair.

His ministrations are both soft and firm at the same time. Gentle as his fingers card through your hair but just a little more firm as his nails scratch at your scalp. You can’t stop the moan that slips past your lips as he lathers your hair, and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

“You are so, utterly breathtaking,” he tells you, voice echoing softly in the small chamber as he moves to rinse your hair.

You peek one eye open, smiling up at him before rising up from the water and turning to face him fully once he’s rinsed all the suds from your hair. Water cascades down your neck and drips slowly down your face, droplets clinging to your lashes before you blink them away.

Gale is still gazing softly at you as you nudge him to sit on the shallow bench at the edge of the pool, bringing your hands up to tilt his head back ever so slightly.

“And you are breathtakingly handsome, my dear wizard,” you say, voice equally affectionate as you move to return the favor of washing his hair.

Gale hums in contentment as you move to sit on his lap, legs straddling his hips as you wet his hair and start to lather the soap into the sodden strands.

His eyes have fallen closed as you run your fingers through his hair, scrubbbung gently at his scalp before moving down the length of his brown locks.

You take this moment when he’s not watching to let your eyes wander. Starting at his strong brow before traveling down to where his lashes flutter against his cheek in silent content. You admire the way his lips part slightly, letting soft sighs escape as your nails scratch lightly at his scalp.

Your eyes travel lower still, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. Eventually, your gaze is called to the inky black lines embedded in his skin, tracing the mark down until it settles on the flaming orb on his chest. Your fingers still against his temples as you lean down to press a feather light kiss to the mark, smiling against his skin as his fingers dig into your hips.

“Hmm…don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, my love,” Gale says lowly, eyes still closed when you glance up at him.

You hum quietly in response, sitting up straight as you rinse his hair, moving to grind your hips into his firmly.

“Who says I don’t intend to finish?”

Gale's eyes snap open as you roll your hips into his own, fingers digging into your pliant flesh even deeper, sure to leave marks behind come the evening.

You can feel him grow hard against you, twitching eagerly against your inner thigh as you move against him. A sinful moan slips from his lips and you lean in to capture his lips with your own, swallowing his noises greedily.

Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there, uncaring of the crescent shaped divots left behind in your wake.

You only pull away from his lips so one hand can slip beneath the water to wrap around him, grinning devilishly when his hips thrust up into your hand desperately.

“Gods…” Gale whimpers, hands sliding up your waist to rest just below your breasts.

You let out a quiet ‘tsk’ sound as you tease him, your thumb running over the head of him before moving to stroke him slowly.

“There’s no gods here,” you whisper huskily, leaning down to nip teasingly at that tender spot below his ear. “I want to hear my name falling from your lips.”

The man beneath you does just that as you sink down onto him, your name falling from his lips in a drawn out groan as you take him to the hilt, your hips pressed against his own.

His name also fills the air in the form of muttered praises on your tongue, the press of him so deliciously satisfying, as he fills you so completely that no other thoughts run through your head other than pleasure.

You lean down to capture Gale's lips in a searing kiss as you slowly lift up before sinking down again, starting a steady but eager rhythm. You swallow the sounds that spill from his lips as you move against him, the water rippling gently around you both as your movements disturbed the surface.

Eager, shaking hands slide up your sides before one wraps around your waist, while the other glides up your spine to settle between your shoulder blades as Gale pulls you impossibly closer. His lips break away from you as your chest presses against his own, another sinful groan escaping him as he thrusts up into you.

“What have I done to deserve such worship?” He asks, words spilling breathlessly from him, as he looks up at you, eyes filled with wonder and lust beneath heavy lids. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon - and like a siren, you have captured my every sense - ah!”

You cut him off accidentally when you roll your hips, a sharp gasp of your own filling the air as he hits something devastating inside you.

That taut familiar coil pulls tighter as the man beneath you holds you in a vice grip, keeping you in place as he begins to grind his hips up into your own with firm thrusts.

His head falls forward then, silencing his moans as his lips press against your skin. He places sloppy kisses to the skin of your neck, tongue darting out to lap at your damp skin, the gentle action interrupted ever so often by blunt teeth nipping as the sensitive areas.

Another rough grind of your hips has you gasping, arousal humming in your veins as you approach the edge, your nails digging into his shoulders as you chase your pleasure, and hopefully his own.

“Fuck, Gale, I - I’m close,” you tell him, words coming out on a high pitched whisper as he drops his hands to your hips once more, fingers digging into the flesh there to guide your movements agaisn him, desperately.

He raises his head, lips brushing your cheek as he whispers, “Let go, let me feel you.”

His words are like a spark to dry kindling, igniting the already taught string and forcing it to snap as your orgasm washes over you. His name falls from your lips in a cry as your hips stutter against him, and he swallows your pleasure with his lips, drinking down your gasps and sighs as he finds his own end.

With a few final thrusts he buries himself inside you with his release, lips breaking from yours as a satisfied groan escapes him, his arms going lax around you as you slump in his hold.

The only sound in the room as you both come down from your highs are your quiet pants and the gentle rippling of the water as Gales hands start to move soothingly against you, tracing calming patterns against your skin.

You both exchange chaste, loving kisses until finally, your chest is no longer heaving for breath, you rest against him, nuzzling into the space between his head and shoulder, as your arms slip around his waist.

The water is still as hot as when you both entered, and you surmise it must be kept heated by some magical quality. Probably why it cost so much to rent the room for as long as you did.

Not that you’re complaining. If you could spend all day in a hot bath with your lover…You’re definitely not going to squabble over coin.

Gales hand ventures up your back before gently tugging at your hair, pulling the damp strands away from your face in order to place a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“I think we may have sullied our earlier bathing efforts,” he says, voice light and teasing, as his hand trails back down your spine.

You smile, and turn to capture his lips in a quick kiss. “Are you complaining? Because I can toss any further ideas I’ve been conjuring up.”

You pull away from him then in order to take in the way his brows quirk upwards in silent question as he shakes his head.

“Not a complaint,” he assures you. “Just an observation. However, now my mind is far from the thought of cleanliness as i'm much more concerned with what other…ideas are running through that head of yours, and whether they're as devious as the stunt you just pulled.”

You chuckle at him, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands, fingers tracing the faint lines of his orb markings that trail just beneath his eye.

“If you think that was devious…” you click your tongue in mock disbelief. “I fear you may not know me at all, Gale.”

You emphasize your words as you grind your hips down into his own again, smiling at the strangled sound he tries to hold back, feeling him twitch eagerly from where he’s still nestled inside you.

You lean in, lips ghosting over his own as your hands slide back to tangle in his hair.

“I paid good money for this room. And I don’t plan to waste it.”

Gale smiles, mischief sparking in his eyes he moves swiftly. He’s standing before you can blink, spinning you around to place you on the edge of the tub, leaning forward until your back hits the chilled stone.

You shiver as his lips ghost over your jaw and down even further to press teasingly above your breasts.

“Neither do I.”

Your breath stutters, and you can’t help but smile.

Yes…the city most definitely has its perks.

#gale x reader #bg3 gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #bg3 x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale bg3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3

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