catalystductcleaningmelbourne

[astarionancuntnin]

Bad Blood

summary: it was meant to be a nice, simple plan. get the sorceress to fall in love with him to assure his own safety, nothing more. what he didn't plan was to fall for her as well, and all the complications that came along with it.

or

my own twist on the astarion confession scene with the reader!tav from my previous fic, Undisclosed Desires

rating: M

word count: 3.6k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, sorceress!tav)

cw: angst, hurt/comfort, self-destructive tendencies from tav, dissociation, mention of past trauma (rape/abusive relationship), toxic coping mechanism, near death experience, talks of manipulation tricks (Astarion's confession speech). full list on ao3

a/n: a follow up to Undisclosed Desires (master list can be found here), now featuring astarion POV! reading the previous fic isnt mandatory but i do highly suggest it to get a feel of their relationship + reader!tav's character and the build up that brought them there (mind you UD is explicit).

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below ~

How do I try? I don't know why I wanna fall in love

I wanna die, every time I see you parking up

Forget about the fights, remember the nights we had, it's not enough

I wanna lie, pretend I'm alright, but-

-

I’m… not expecting you to say it back, but I meant what I said yesterday. I don’t know where this’ll go, but I know I want to be with you.

The words resonated in Astarion’s head.

He pretended to be sleeping back then, but he heard everything she said. Her confession had struck him harder than he had expected, leaving him at a loss for words.

Of course, this was the expected outcome; he did everything to make her fall for him. It was easy after all, a routine of sorts. She might've been a challenge at first, but she was always meant to fall for him; everyone does. Everything had gone exactly according to plan. Everything but for one simple detail.

I think I’m in love with you.

Astarion has had those words in mind ever since her declaration, a few nights ago. Those little words that shouldn’t have meant as much as they did when she spoke them.

They didn’t talk about what happened, but their relationship was stable. He had what he wanted; security from the leader of the group, assurance that she wasn’t going to turn on him, and a meal every night. She was less aggressive towards him, which was an added bonus, although he admired that fire in her that made her a menace on the battlefield, without taking away that softness in her character, even, if he had to be honest, it bothered him that she didn't save that energy for their own group.

That balance in her personality, this goodness mixed with this fire within that drifted him towards her, that made him love her in return.

…Love? No, that couldn’t be right. He found himself enjoying the banter between the two of them, it’s true. She was just as witty as he was, and their back and forth was the most fun he had during the day. She challenged him, kept him on his toes, ready for anything, and the few times they had sex were great, he couldn’t deny that either.

It might've started out as a ruse to have her trust and protect him, but then it became much more intimate when she opened herself up to him during those precious moments. He was able to know her unlike anyone else among their group.

She was more than he expected her to be, more than just a victim meant to be disposed of. That’s why this situation turned out to be such a problem to him now.

At first, he hated the feeling; couldn’t believe how his own plan had turned against him. But then he saw how she cared, when no one else did, and she let herself be vulnerable for him when she came forward with her own feelings. When he held her close that morning, he didn’t want to let go. She sounded so sincere, felt so warm and soft against him, a safe haven.

Until he could come forward with his own feelings — if he ever did — he would have to resign himself to accepting any form of affection from her only when she was the least likely to notice.

After all, he couldn’t let himself show any type of vulnerability, lest fall for her. It would go against his meticulously crafted plan.

And yet.

It was just so difficult not to, when she was always taking a stand for him. She was merciless and cruel to those who posed a threat to their group, protecting him as much as she protected herself. She was probably the most courageous member of their party, but as of late, this courage had turned into recklessness; casting strong spells that could have wiped an entire village when a simple, smaller one, would’ve done the trick. Every fight made her take more unnecessary risks to secure their victory, and given the shadowlands were dangerous territory, she believed it justified her recent impulsiveness.

It didn’t make any sense coming from her — she used to be more strategic, she was resourceful and able to lead battles using everyone’s abilities; that’s why they had put her in charge of their group. But their latest fights had been too close for comfort, and tension had risen around camp.

It has worked so far, she had claimed, not seeing the issue with her behaviour, and dismissing everyone who came forward to express their concern.

But what if it happened to fail? What then?

Astarion's fellow companions blamed it on the shadow-cursed lands that must’ve been affecting her, surely, as she was growing back to her cold, distant self, but Astarion noticed the change in her behaviour specifically following their visit at Last Light Inn.

She was fine when they first entered the vicinity, but by the time they were leaving, the sorceress seemed anxious and eager to go back into the woods, away from the security the inn provided, which went against everything they had fought for.

When she was asked about it, she blamed it on a bad gut feeling, dismissing any of their concerns, and when Shadowheart agreed and blamed it on the presence of the Selûnite cleric — who they didn’t even get the chance to discuss with — the rest of their party didn’t push for more information. She stayed mostly silent for the rest of the day and even ignored Astarion’s remarks.

Her behaviour was odd, but he couldn’t let himself care too much. Stick to the plan, he repeated to himself.

She let him feed the following nights, but she seemed away during their sessions. She wasn’t exactly the talkative type and he didn’t want to pry, but she caught his attention when she walked out of her tent, panting, a few times throughout these last nights. When he had taken a peek, he found her clutching at her chest, struggling to breathe as she was pacing nearby.

Astarion knew better than to ask, but curiosity got the best of him. Tonight, after everyone else had gone to bed and he joined her in her tent, he would confront her about her nightly troubles.

She was dabbing her neck, cleaning the traces of his recent feeding, her eyes lost in the distance, when he spoke up.

“I’ve noticed you seem… away, during our little sessions, as of late.”

“Hm?” She’s snapped back to reality, proving his point, but still avoiding any eye contact. “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” She tried to push the matter aside.

“Believe me, I would if it was anyone else but…” he stopped himself from saying anything he might regret, sliding back into his careless self. “You're the leader of this group. Our very lives are between your hands and I would quite like to keep mine.”

She chuckled humourlessly, “I'm telling you, I'm fine.”

“Allow me to doubt that, Especially with those nightmares you’ve been having lately.”

Her gaze locked with his, a dread settling within her.

“Is that what they are then?” He asked. “Night terrors?”

Her eyes darted across her tent; he could see the internal fight she was having with herself, deciding to come clean about her condition or not.

She sighed deeply after a few seconds, taking in a moment to find the words and it took her a few tries to finally speak up.

“When we passed by the Last Light Inn, I… recognised someone. He…” Her breath cut short. “We used to date. Or something like that. It wasn’t a great experience, to put it lightly. I was young and naive, and he took advantage of it. He–”

The words got stuck in her throat, unable to carry on as her breathing quickened. Her eyes blinked uncontrollably, still staring ahead, lost in a world of her own. It took her a moment to finally come back and continue.

“I hated myself for so long. I felt guilty of what had happened to me. It took me years to get over it– I thought I was over it, but the second I saw him again, it all came back at once.”

She paused once more, trying to regulate her breathing. “I spent all those years thinking about how I could make him regret what he did to me, if we ever crossed paths again. And when it finally happened, I froze. I. fucking. froze.”

Tears were threatening to fall and she pulled her knees close to her chest, turning her head aside; she couldn’t bear to let him see her in that state. “I’m sorry– you need to leave.”

Except that was the last thing he wanted.

He wanted to stay and comfort her, tell her that he would be by her side no matter what, that he would help her get her revenge if that’s what she desired, just like she promised to help him out against Cazador, but he simply couldn’t. The words remained caged in his chest as he got up and opened the flap of her tent before bidding his goodbyes.

The next morning, she avoided him like he used to avoid the sun; anytime he was nearby, she would turn to face someone else among their group, as if she couldn’t stand to look at him. Her speech was concise, mathematical, she had lost any sign of the emotions she had experienced the night prior.

When she selected the members of the party for the day, he was surprised to be a part of it. He wasn't scared to be left in camp, after all, she made it clear in the past that his ability to lock pick any and every thing made him a valuable asset, but he had his doubts after how she had been acting this morning.

The sorceress proposed to visit Moonrise Tower to get to the heart of their problem, but the shadow curse had made it tedious to navigate further and Karlach urged the group to revisit the Last Light Inn to get the help of the Selûnite cleric. With the majority of the party agreeing, their leader had no choice but to step over her current feelings for the sake of their mission, but she made it clear that they wouldn’t stay a second longer than needed in there.

To her dismay, that moment would take up most of their day.

After receiving the blessing of the cleric, a winged man, that Isobel referred to as Marcus, arrived from the skies claiming that she needed to leave with him, and when it was made clear that it wasn't an option, a fight ensued with his own army of undead.

They should've been able to handle them, it was their first fight of the day and they were prepared for anything. Or so they thought.

The hits from their enemies were stronger than anticipated and Shadowheart barely managed to keep everyone alive with Marcus who used his necrotic powers to drain them dry at every chance he had; against their best attempt, Isobel was knocked out and captured by the winged man.

Without the moon cleric to protect the inn, all its inhabitants were claimed by the shadow curse; one by one, the group of adventurers watched them die and turn against them, prolonging their already lengthy battle.

They defeated all the harpers within the inn before making their way outside, where another group of possessed fighters were waiting for them. The fight had been going on for what felt like forever; waves of new enemies kept coming in and the party was running short on spells and patience. More worrisomely: Shadowheart had used her last healing spell.

With everyone’s health running dangerously low, the sorceress knew she had to act fast to assure their victory. She was scanning the battlefield to evaluate her options when she froze, her gaze stuck on one of the Harpers that was approaching them. Astarion recognized her behaviour from the night before and he knew he had to step in.

He screamed her name, trying to make her snap out of it, but she remained motionless, unable to react to her environment, as a range of emotions visibly flooded her all at once. Without Karlach by her side to slash the undead that was coming for her, she would’ve been downed right there and then. The fiery tiefling screamed her name again and grabbed her by her shoulder, grounding her back to reality.

“Soldier, hey! You with me?”

Their leader blinked quickly, taking back her surroundings, “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine, sorry.”

“What’s happened to you? You were this close to being a goner.”

She didn’t answer back, but when her eyes fell back on the Harper she recognized seconds ago, an uncontrollable anger started boiling within her, and although Astarion noticed the fists clenching tighter and tighter at her sides, he wasn’t expecting what came next.

She freed herself from Karlach’s grasp on her shoulder as she bolted straight to the Harper she had in her sights. No one was able to stop her before she casted flaming hands on the undead, with a guttural scream that was cut short by the explosion that followed.

Blinded by rage, the sorceress missed to notice the multiple barrels of smoke powder that surrounded their last enemies as she cast her spell, blowing them up and herself in the process.

The rest of the party remained far enough to be spared by the explosion, Karlach receiving barely any damage. As the smoke settled down, the figure of their friend appeared, spread on the ground among the corpses of their fallen enemies.

No… No, it can't be—

Despite his distance from her, Astarion was the first one to reach her. He quickly rushed past the cleric and barbarian to land next to the fainted sorceress, bringing her head close to him. He tried to look for her eyes, but they were shut tight with no sign of life.

“Wake up… Wake up! Come on now. Please…” His hold of her became desperate, looking for any sign of consciousness; her body’s warmth was turning to a familiar coldness, and the soft melody of her heartbeat was getting quieter. Dread started to settle in and he shot a deadly stare at Shadowheart who was still standing next to Karlach, checking on her smaller wounds. “What are you waiting for? An invitation?! Heal her!”

“I used my last spell on you earlier!” She tried to explain. “We need to bring her back to our camp.”

“Would it kill you to try?”

Karlach nodded to Shadowheart, agreeing that their friend was in bigger need of care than her, and Shadowheart approached the fainted party member begrudgingly, knowing fully well she would be of no help, and knelt next to her as she tried to cast a healing spell, but nothing happened.

She tried again, and again, but her magic had run out. “I'm sorry, I– I can't.”

“What do you mean, you can't?!” Astarion spat out. “That's your sole purpose! What good of a cleric are you if you can't even heal her!”

“Hey!” Karlach stepped in before Shadowheart could retort. “Yelling won't get us anywhere, alright? We're all exhausted, and Soldier here needs serious help – let's just all go back to camp? Halsin might be able to take a look at her.”

His eyes narrowed, looking back at his lover, and he nodded to his friend. Without wasting any more time, Karlach picked her lifeless body from the ground, leading the march to their campsite without muttering another word.

Back at camp, the party rushed to bring the burned sorceress to Halsin’s tent. At the brief sight of her lifeless body, everyone else rushed to see the state she was in.

“By Sylvanus, what happened back there?”

“Does it matter, druid? She clearly needs help!” Astarion shouted.

“She was in the middle of an explosion, it was pretty bad.” Karlach stepped in, providing an answer for the archdruid. ”Can you fix her up?”

“I’ll do what I can, my friend, but I’ll need some time– “ He turned to Astarion who was hovering. “And space. Do not worry, I will come to you once I am done.”

With those last words, Karlach laid their fallen friend down in Halsin’s tent and guided Astarion out with a pat on the shoulder and a soft “Come on, Fangs''. He followed her, giving one last look at the woman he grew to love, a mix of anger and worry painted over his face.

Astarion remained at his tent, trying to take his mind off of her by sewing up his torn clothes, but his mind kept going back to the moments before the explosion. He had pieced together what had happened, but he couldn't understand why she had put herself at risk like so. She was the smartest among them – he even enjoyed taunting Gale about it – and she was logical in combat. Why would she go as far as to risk her life over this? He kept pacing around in circles for the rest of the evening, expecting the worst as time went by.

As night time approached, the flap’s of Halsin's tent opened to reveal an exhausted healer. Astarion hurried to him, his worry circulating to the druid with unspoken words.

“I stabilised her.” He tried to reassure the pale elf. “She will be alright, but she needs to rest. Her wounds were… a lot to bear. If she didn't have her strong resolve, she might’ve not made it.”

His eyes darted to the opening of the tent, mindlessly walking in, not ready for what was before him: the sorceress half naked, her clothes having been replaced almost completely by bandages. The few bits of her skin left bare showed old scars and new bruises covering them. She lifted her eyes to meet his, only to turn away at the vision of his visible worry.

“It's bad, isn't it?” she sighed heavily. “He said I shouldn't use my powers for a few days. Said it could ‘compromise the healing process’.” She mocked the archdruid’s voice. When Astarion didn’t say anything in return, her eyes darted back to him to notice his expression hadn’t changed in the slightest. “You shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“And you shouldn’t have blown yourself up, dear.”

She scoffed, “It’s not like I did it intentionally.”

“Not unless your intention was to end your life,” he snapped.

“Gods, what’s wrong with you?”

“Me?! What's wrong with me is that I happen to care for a brat who's prone to self destructive behaviour!”

“Excuse me?!” She raised herself up on her elbows.

“That stunt you pulled back there? You almost died!”

“We all could've died! I made the right choice to save our skins and nobody is grateful for it.” She groaned in pain, her body reminding her of her recent wounds.

“What choice?! Blowing yourself up? You blindly rushed in and put your life at risk. Gods, do you even realise the danger you put yourself in?”

“It was a calculated risk,” she hissed, her voice lowering. “And… I needed to do it.”

“What, kill yourself? Are we really that bad of a crowd, darling?”

“Ugh, I don’t even know why I’m trying to justify myself to you – It worked out, didn’t it? Why are you making such a big deal out of it now?”

“Because I care about you!”

"Oh right, it would be such a shame if something happened to your precious meal."

"You are more than that to me!”

She froze, the anger vanishing from her face, “...What do you mean?”

Shit.

“When you… when I held you in my arms, back there I – I thought you were gone.” His voice cracked. “I didn’t think I would care, Hells, I didn’t plan to, I–”

She quickly blinked in confusion, “Plan?” and he realised just then what he had let out; he needed to come clean.

“I know how it’s going to sound but, please, just hear me out. I… I had a plan. A nice, simple plan - seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you… Which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart.”

She stayed silent, taking in everything he confessed, her gaze going back and forth as she was considering his words, and Astarion was starting to fear this was a mistake; this was meant to show her he cared just as much as she did. He couldn’t afford to lose her, not now that he laid out his feelings, not after almost losing her. He reached out for her hand, trying to bring her back to him.

“I swear this plan is long gone by now.”

She scoffed, finally finding her voice again. “So all this time…” Her chest rose as her breathing accelerated and she pulled her hand away from him in disbelief. “Everything you said, what we did–… Gods, were you even attracted to me?”

“Of course I was!” He exclaimed. “Look at you, for goodness sake – you’re a vision. And you’re so much more than that.”

“Right. Then all of this,” she points at the two of them, “The flirting, the teasing, the soft words, you caring about me… It was an act, all along?”

“Yes— No! I mean– only at first, but then what we had – after that first night – it was real, I swear.”

She looked away as her eyes teared up, removing her hand from his grasp. “Why are you telling me this, Astarion?”

“I… I’m not sure… But you deserved to know.”

“I cannot believe I let myself fall for you. I’m such a fool.”

“Please–” He reached out for her hand again and she backed off abruptly.

“Don't touch me.”

The familiar words made his undead heart clench in pain and he backed off slowly. Despite her visible tears, Astarion knew she was boiling with rage.

“Please… say something.”

The tears streamed down her face as she blinked, her gaze stuck on the ground before them.

“You better have had your fill yesterday, because that was the last time I let you feed on me.” Her eyes met his, in a fury that he had never seen before, and she spoke with a shaky but dark voice. “I don't want you anywhere near me anymore.”

He nodded, “I understand–”

“I don't think you do,” she cut him off, her raging eyes piercing through him.

He looked at her incredulous, until she confirmed his worst fear.

“I want you gone from this camp by tomorrow morning.”

-

But every time I see those eyes

I wonder if you know you're keeping me up late at night

I don't know where to go

I pretend, I don't care, I tell myself you're right here

It's nothing but a nightmare, nightmare

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce

[longtallglasses]

Are you working on anything new that you'd be willing to share 👀

i am working on the big bang, but can't share yet - and have two (2!) halloween ideas...

this is from my mid-00s internet/youtube au

[schizononagesimus]

For @demolitionlovrsskk! Done and dusted, bit late because i forgot uni exists lol, but here she is!! Original prompt from this post.

Parings: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus (Griddlehark) | Rating: Explicit | Words: 10.8k

Summary:

Gideon is Harrow's gym trainer. Harrow is a hot mess.

"Harrow was mad, and mad fucking hot. Her room was a small explosion of goth-ass clothes. She talked like a book, apparently unless you were fucking. She was probably half-dead and somehow managing to cling to life enough to go to the gym successfully a singular time. She smoked, but she didn’t. She worked with dead shit. Gideon could’ve learned everything about Harrow and still not understood a damn thing about her. And yet, here she was, Harrow carefully undoing her bra clasps, sucking her nipples and leaving a gentle bite on each one; then falling to Harrow’s unmade bed, and then Harrow, mounting her face."

[wherenymphsroam]

‘I wanna do a song fic’ -> ‘yeah let’s do a song fic’ -> ‘wait what if it’s cringe’ -> ‘fuck that I’ll die cringe and happy’ -> ‘never mind there’s no way I can articulate this in a way that does the song justice’ -> no song fic.

[dystopiandramaqueen]

Tough one but… favorite line from any fic you’ve written 💅

*Seated in a leather armchair by a crackling fire, I flip to Chapter 10 of Undisclosed Desires*

"“You should spank me.”

My sexuality was a secret, hidden thing for most of my life. I picked up a copy of 50 shades of Grey to see what the fuss was about. It was my first experience with smut. With women talking about their sexual fantasies. I learned 50 Shades started as fanfic. That is how I got into writing. It was the most liberating, healing experience of my adult life.

THT is a very vanilla fandom bc the ship are rape victims.

It took me a very very long time to get those characters into a setting where June could ask Nick to spank her just because she wanted him to. Not because she was age regressed or confused or a masochist- but because being manhandled is fucking hot.

I beta'd this story with so many people, getting the vibes right.

But this line?

I got to the point in the story where the chessboard was set.

She had to just fucking say it.

It's the hardest thing I've ever written, and looking at it now it still feels like- I climbed Everest or something.

That's the delay with Indulgences too I have a literal mental block about finishing my fantasies and making them real.

And I'm just learning to proceed and ignore all the doubt.

My goal is to have written enough smut to keep myself entertained when I no longer want to write. I want to finish this shit. And thank you for this ask- bc its reminding me like- just fucking write it.

below is the scene in context! Enjoy!

June goes to leave but Nick blocks her. She’s caged between his arms, his palms flat on the wall next to her shoulders. She catches her breath and looks at him.

Something’s changed. His body language is primal. Possessive. Chest rising and falling quickly. He licks his lower lip. Voice a low growl.

“You’re getting fucked. Hard. But not until we discuss your behavior.”

June’s stomach twists with excitement and embarrassment.

Nick grabs her wrists and pins them to the wall above her head.

He kisses up her neck, mouthing over her ear. Voice low. Dominant. “You. Are in BIG trouble.”

June’s heart races. Oh my god, it’s happening.

“You have been very, very bad. Making me watch while other men touch you...Getting me so hard for you.” He moves her hand down, so she can feel his huge erection straining through his gym shorts. She gasps. It feels so good. Jesus.

He continues, dark eyes locked on hers. Expression humorless. “You did that. Wasn’t very nice was it?”

Her eyes squeeze closed and she shakes her head. It’s too good. Too hot.

“And worst of all. You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

June drags her dazed eyes to his.

Nick raises his eyebrows, nodding at the severity of this infracion. “Should you keep secrets from your husband?”

She shakes her head, eyes shimmering with mischief.

“No. You shouldn’t. How am I supposed to fuck you right if you won’t tell me everything you need. EVERYTHING you want me to do to you.”

Oh jesus, it’s happening.

“You’ve been dropping hints for weeks. But I want you to own it. You’d better fess up or you’re gonna be in worse trouble than you already are. You’re already getting punished for getting my cock so hard for you. Do we have to add secrets to the list?”

June’s breaths are coming hard now. Body on fire. Too turned on to move or respond. Heart beating entirely too fast. Everything hurts. Throbbing down there. Aching. She needs him so badly.

Nick’s lips ghost over her mouth, leaving sparks when they brush against hers. Whispering.

“You’ve... been... So...Fucking... Bad. What should I do about that?”

The words tumble out before she can stop them. A breathy whisper.

“You should spank me.”

“Fucking Christ.” Nick whispers under his breath. Eyes clenching shut. He swallows thickly. He presses his lips together for a few beats. He blows out a slow breath to center himself. She feels goosebumps rise on his arms. “Very good.” He whispers. “That was very good. I know that wasn’t easy.”

A smirk grows on his gorgeous mouth. He’s so fucking into it. Into her. She remembers what he said. That his ultimate kink is giving her what she wants. Her embarrassment vanishes.

She leans forward to kiss him. He moans into it.

Then suddenly he’s pulling her across the room. Sitting on the bench in the middle of the room. Pulling her across his lap, like he used to pull her into bed in his apartment.

Oh my god it’s happening.

Continue reading on A03

[sexlapis]

# the D word

꩜ nanami x gn!reader

ns4w, daddy kink, penetrative s e x, praise, fluff, crack, undisclosed kinks, the tiniest bit of angst, petnames

⤷ synopsis : nanami accidentally reveals his “secret” kink.

wc: 1.4k

a/n: i love a good daddy kink fic #sorrynosorry

masterlists

*

the first time that word slips from his lips, you don’t even think he realises.

it had been a tiring, stressful day for nanami and unfortunately, those types of days are not uncommon in his line of work.

some days are better than others. some days he is here, with you and present even after a bad day but other times…he can be gone for months.

luckily, it wasn’t one of those days.

while you finished off preparing dinner, nanami rests on the couch, head lolling back into the headrest. his noticeable tie is long gone, along with his suit coat and goggles. the top few buttons of his blue shirt are undone, the sleeves of it rolled up to his elbows, revealing the pale expanse of his trimmed forearms.

you walk into the living room, where he is. “nanami, dinners ready. let’s go eat!”

nanami grunts, eyes closed and not making any viable efforts to join you or to eat.

you tilt your head, sympathy in your eyes. maybe he has a headache or just wants to sleep. i’ll leave him the leftovers for work.

“_____,” nanami drawls out, sounding like he’s minutes away from passing out, “_____, c’mere, come sit for a second, hm..”

“hm? oh…ken, are you okay?” you move closer to him, placing the back of your hand on his forehead, “maybe you should go to bed.”

“no. yes. no. i’m fine,” nanami huffs, running a hand down his face before patting his lap, “just c’mere, come sit. come sit on daddy’s lap.”

any thoughts in your head, any words you were to utter, any movements you were to make instantly come to an abrupt halt.

uhm…what?

daddy?

your jaw may as well be plonk on the floor.

now, you and nanami’s sex life is not boring or unsatisfactory in the slightest, the exact opposite in fact. you and nanami were happy with what you had. but you most definitely did not peg him to be the type who likes to be called…that word.

did you like that word though? growing up, you had always thought it was a bit strange hearing your friends call the guys they found attractive a term that one would use for their father. for you, it wasn’t even a question or even a thought. you simply and absolutely were not a fan. it wasn’t for you…or so you thought.

that word. nanami said it so easily, so readily, like he didn’t even think about what he was referring to himself as, like he did it every day of his life.

the way in which he said it, in a weary, gentle groan, urging you to sit on his lap, so unfazed like he knew you would say yes to his request as if he has ever called himself “daddy”.

it makes the pit of your stomach alight with unexpected desire. all because of one word.

so you decide to indulge him (and maybe, secretly, yourself too).

you shuffle the short distance to nanami, carefully sitting yourself right in the middle of his lap and curling your knees up on his thigh, you cheek now smushed against his shirt. the steady rhythm of his heartbeat almost sends you to sleep.

he hums, content when he rings his arms around you body like vines and prods his nuzzles the top of your head, breathing heavily and letting his eyes close.

“this is all i needed…”

the next day, all is forgotten.

*

the next time he said it, the sun had just about risen over the clouds on a lazy weekend.

sweat slides between the gravitating bodies of you and nanami, luminary, golden light shining over the two of you. only the sound of skin coming together and the sounds of soft, tired pleasure were all that could be heard in the room.

nanami embraces you closely as you move on top of him languidly, not in a rush at all but already so, so close to reaching your peaks.

he groans, loud and deep. nanami is more vocal in the morning you’ve noticed, all drowsy and vulnerable and pliant. blonde strands of hair stick to his forehead as rouge washes over his neck and cheeks.

“hmfp…fuck…oh shit,” nanami’s hands finds your rippling ass, groping gently and pulling it, exposing you most intimate areas to the chill of the morn, “i’m cumming. fuck, i’m cumming. you’re gonna make daddy cum.”

it embarrasses you. how quickly your eyes roll into the back of your head when he calls himself that damn name again.

you don’t stop and the unhurried circling of your hips around nanami’s cock as you, quite literally, ride out your high has him clutching onto your waist whilst he releases himself inside of you, jerking himself upwards and holding you in place, ensuring you take it all.

languorous rolls of the hips turn into soft grinds as you milk him for all he’s worth. he’s jelly in your hold, moaning quietly and long eyelashes fluttering.

“god…” you chime, lifting yourself up and off his manhood, making him hiss at the cold. white drips out of you, dripping onto nanami’s lower torso.

the next few moments are still after he moves you lay next to him, still regaining your breath and coming back to earth. you peer to your left and that his eyes are closed.

probably going to fall back asleep…

you kiss his sweaty shoulder, “it’s okay baby, you can go to sleep.

nanami whines, breathes out and he…sleeps once again.

no mention of that either.

*

later on in the day, rain patters against the clear window. you and nanami sit closely on the couch, a book in your hand and a very loved kindle in his. he wears his nerdy reading glasses and a cream-coloured sweater, looking all cosy, homey and domestic.

…your mind is not on the book in front of you. not in the slightest.

daddy… just when i think i’ve got him all figured out…

to you, it’s odd. i mean, it would be odd to anyone if their partner began referring to themselves as “daddy” out of the blue, right? why not discuss it with you first? what if it was a turn-off and you didn’t even like it? then again, nanami has not heard any complaints from your mouth. you’re not even sure you have any complaints about his quite generous use of the word.

i think it’s starting to grow on me.

you should just ask him. but what if he’s embarrassed?

well he should’ve thought about that and discussed it with me?

what if it’s awkward?

well not all conversations in a relationship are going to be comfortable.

what if he just shuts down and gives me the silent treatment?

well, maybe-

“since when you do you have a daddy kink?”

nanami chokes on his own spit, coughing before he sputters, staring at you like he should be the one that’s shocked, “wh-what?!”

“don’t play dumb! are we just gonna pretend that you haven’t been calling yourself da- the “D” word recently?” you whisper-shout the last part, feeling heat rise on your face, “where did that even come from?”

“alright, alright i-,” he sighs, “listen i…i’ve-i’ve liked.. it for a while now. it was just-,” he sighs again, looking to the floor, “embarrassing.”

“…oh nanami…” you cuddle up to him, moving his hand away from his now red face, kissing the back of his hand, “you’re so silly. you don’t have to be embarrassed. loads of people like those things…a heads up would’ve been appreciated though…”

“right. sorry.”

you shrug it off, “nah, it’s fine. i actually think it suits you. “daddy” huh?”

“oh, jesus christ.” nanami presses his eyes together, rethinking his life choices.

“oh no, don’t backtrack now. you brought this upon yourself this time…you do have a lot of…”daddy” qualities to be honest,” you genuinely begin to ponder, “you’re caring, kinda fatherly, dominant, you even carry me to bed sometimes and pick out my clothes and -”

“please-”

“what is it? is daddy getting shy? you weren't shy last night.”

nanami might as well melt into the ground as you snicker in his face. you are having far too much fun with this.

“are you done?”

“yes, daddy.”

“eugh.”

you giggle some more and really, nanami does see the humour in this. a stoic man too embarrassed to tell his partner about his little kink? that is silly.

“but seriously, it’s fine. i kinda like it!”

“yes, i got that impression.”

you smack his bicep. “not too much. just tell me next time, yeah? i don’t want to be having sex and then next thing i know you’re calling me “master” or something, that would be crazy.”

“…yeah… that would be crazy…”

“…”

“…”

“nanami? what-”

*

< thank u for reading ૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა >

[lqtraintracks]

I'm so excited to get to claim my 2024 @hd-wireless fic! This fic would not have been finished ever if not for the encouragement and support and betaing of @nv-md; I seriously can't thank you enough! Another big round of gratitude goes to the amazing mods of this equally amazing fest! Y'all are rock stars! And to everyone who created something this year, the readers, the commenters... you people are the best! 🎵 Explicit, 24,545  ❗ Warnings/Tags: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Kink Negotiation, Dom Draco Malfoy, Sub Harry Potter, Sex Work, Auror Harry Potter, BDSM Club Owner Draco Malfoy, Bondage, Spanking, Flogging, Nipple Play, Mild Cock & Ball Torture, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Praise Kink, Endearments, Kissing, Pain Slut Harry Potter, Harry realising he is indeed a kinky freak, Kneeling, Subspace, Aftercare, Good Dom Draco, The Ministry of Magic is Corrupt, Magical Theory, Angst with a Happy Ending, (Mostly) Top Draco Malfoy, (Mostly) Bottom Harry Potter, Brief Switching, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Falling In Love  🎵 Song Prompt: Undisclosed Desires by Muse submitted by @apricitydays-lazynights who I gifted this fic to because I'm so glad we've become friends and I'm really grateful for how much love and enthusiasm you've put into this fandom in a relatively short period of time. Thank you. <3

🎵 Summary: 

When Auror Harry Potter is sent in undercover to determine if Draco Malfoy is laundering money through his BDSM club, will he be able to keep up the ruse and close the case? Or, more to the point, will he keep from falling in love?

Enjoy! <3 Say When

[sleepy-fiction]

Please, God

○ andrew kriess x gn!reader

○ 5.8K WORDS

syn: you're a wicked temptation he should be running from, but you make him so hard. Please, God, let him cum.

tgs: NSFW reader bottom, undisclosed sex and gn sex terms for reader, andrew overcomes fear of sex (religious oppression), loaded religious terms, masturbation, unprotected penetration, silly virus, andrew busts 7 million nuts cause hes sensitive as hell, cutesy fluff, comedic, comfort

a/n: I had so much fun writing this. It was entirely self-serving. but for those who are scared that this will be mostly angst, lit dw I try to balance comedy and a whole lot of romantic sex within it!! It's not meant to be a deep dive but more so a sexy comfort fic looll. pls give it a read it's super funny and cutesy and ofc, sexy as hell

⚰️⏳️🖐💦

Andrew knows he shouldn't. He's always set so behind others - he was born a monster - a sinner. He had to work harder to relieve the favor of his community, of his God. He can't stop now. He has to continue. But a wicked, beastly desire within him was stirring in his belly. Tormenting his soul. It raged like a fire within his heart, that sparked down brilliant flares to his loins.

He swallows thickly.

It all started when you came into town.

You were a foreigner, different in how you talked, spoke, and carried yourself. He could taste the sunny vibe you glittered as you talked to everyone, including him. He had learned from gossip that you were a traveling merchant, coming here to rest from your travels before you head to the capital. And though he tried to protect them from the contagious sin that was him- you never stopped talking to him.

You didn't stop either when you cornered him against the cemetery gate, demanding he homes to see you in your inn. Saying how cruel he was for running from you and assuming you didn't like his company for "forcing him away" as you call it.

You were so close, so angry, and so zealous about him visiting you. You demanded him to see you and even went as far as to confess that you loved his company- alone. He swallowed thickly. You said it all in innocence, but the way you made him feel wasn't. Your arm pinned him against the gate by his collar. All the while your face had such a serious expression he had never seen you wear before.

He said yes quickly because he wanted you away from him, so the glittering feelings would disappear. But you persisted, scolding him until you got your fill. You only stopped when you noticed his trembling breath and shaking hands.

Before you left, you told him one last thing, "Tomorrow evening. Dress nicely." He already knew what that invitation meant.

You were taking him to dinner.

If only you knew he was shaking, not because he was afraid of you but because of the wickedness in his body. He was afraid of how excited he was. Afraid of how his body seemed to tingle in a way, he thought he shut down when he was a preteen.

If only you saw the way he squirmed.

If only you could see him now.

Andrew stood naked from the waist down in his home's small bathroom, his hands tugging and pulling at his amazingly wet cock. His clothes bunched at his ankles. His dick dribbled and spat up like a hungry animal, creating erotically slick sounds for every tug.

He just had to make it go away.

His cock was boiling in his hands, his face burning a brilliant red as his free hand held up his shirt. His eyes slapped lidded, moans barreling out at the most sensitive touches.

It normally only took a few pumps, but God was this taking long.

He leaned back against the wall of his bathroom, sinking his back into it and lazily drooping his head down to look at his weeping cock.

He dropped his shirt, and his free hand greedily met his other in massaging his cock, the two-handed squeezing and rubbing causing his back to arch off the wall as his moans filled the bathroom.

Please, he hopes God--

"Just touching there?"

He hears the phantoms of your voice egging him on from the depths of his wicked mind. He gasped at the idea, the sound so clear in his mind that he even looked for you and found nothing. But it continued, "Play with your tip, while you stroke yourself." He groaned painfully at the thought.

He leaned down to watch himself. Obeying as his fingers fluttered, light circles into his tip, while his other hand stroked himself viciously. The friction had him cry out, his legs buckling and shivering under the pressure.

He was going to come.

His moans peaked, his mind betraying him. As he imagined you, staring at him with that intense glare. He bursts, shooting hot, thick streams that splatter against the toilet.

With a dry moan, he leans back against the wall panting viciously.

"What? You're finished just like that," you egg him in his thoughts.

He looks down frantically, staring at his still achingly hard cock.

A whimper flees from his lips, "Oh no..." He tries to shut his eyes, praying it all will go away.

"No what?"

"No... I can't keep..."

"Touch it, Andrew." You command.

He bucks his hips forward in delight. "No." He rushes out of his bathroom, haphazardly pulling up his clothes safely around his waist, rushing to his bed. He barrels into it face first, groaning at the minuscule friction it gives him. Uncontrollably his hips rock into the bed, his poor cock mewling for pleasure.

"Andrew," you tease, he moans in delight, "I want you-"

"No!" He yells. Andrew barrels up to his feet, running out of his home deep into the dead of night. "That house's cursed," he yells into the late air for none to hear. His feet clamored against the pavement, eyes following the streetlights, as he ran to the only place he knew.

Andrew ran into the local Inn before he even knew where he was headed. He burst through the large oak doors and was greeted by the blinding lights of the warm building. He hissed and covered his eyes with his hand. Yet, his bursting into the doors was not a pleasant sight for the innkeeper.

"Oh. It's Kriess," she grumbled. Amid his panic, he was delighted to note that she at least used his name.

But the delight quickly warped to horror.

Why did he come here?

What sort of wicked spirit is possessing him right now?

"I-I shouldn't be here," He squeaks, but it falls on deaf ears.

"Room Nine, third floor," the lady grumbles.

"W-What!" He barked.

"Are you raising your damn tone at me?"

"No, I would never--"

"Get out of here! Get you, white devil!" She barrels as she points to the staircase.

With a terrified gasp, Andrew ran up the stairs, not stopping until he hit the third floor. By now, he was shivering, his teeth clamoring together, his heart beating so fast it could burst. Paranoia ensues him, as his eyes flicker down the hall, left to right with no real substance.

White devil, white monster. He's here acting on his demonic instincts, trying to satisfy the needs of his flesh. What sort of prayer would get him out of this? He needs to know. Please, God he--

"Oh? If my eyes are correct, that's Andrew Kriess!"

You spoke.

He heard your chipper voice mumble. His whole body takes a much-needed deep breath. A mewl of delight escapes him, as his mind floods with serenity.

It was the real you this time.

His head turned to see you at your doorstep, with a cozy robe on. You were preparing for bed, even now you looked so radiant. Your eyes were filled with fondness that fondness that made his heart squeeze. "I was just going out to get - wait. What's wrong?" Your face droops instantly.

You move so quickly to get so dear to him, laying a hand on his shoulder and staring deep into his eyes with that intense look on your face. That's when his grateful tranquility flutters into pure embarrassment.

With a growl, he stammers, eyes trying not to look into yours. His hands fly up as he tries to speak, "I- I thought... It- was," yet nothing of substance comes out.

"Hey? Andrew? What the hell--"

"D-Dont curse," He squeaks as his face grows impossibly red.

"Well, I'm going to need you to calm down," you say, reaching and grabbing his hand. A disgusting squelch bubbles out from where your hands meet as a stocky substance smeared into your palm. "What the hell!" You shriek as you pull your hand away.

Andrew's heart fails him as he screams out horrifically, grabbing your forearms before you can look at your palms. He pins your hands down to your side as he leans forward, his head bows to the floor, but you're painfully aware of how sticky your palms are, and how sticky your forearms now are too. How hot red his ears are.

"Oh mercy! M-Mercy! You must believe me- and do not hate me!" He blabbers.

"What are you smearing on me, Andrew?" It's your squeak now, your face flushing with confusion and embarrassment. You try to pull away and successfully slip from his grasp, but that cold slick makes a disgusting sound and smears worse down your arms. "Ew! God Andrew, what is that!" You howl as you rush back to your room.

"N-No! Let me wash your hands, close your eyes!" He nearly screams, and that's when panic truly settles in for you.

"No!" You rush into your bathroom as you hear Andrew enter and shut the door behind him. You flicker on the lights to your bathroom, as whatever it is begins to rapidly crust and dry on your arms. "What the hell!" You cursed. Your mind raced.

"Oh please! Please," you hear Andrew cry as he fits up a beat red hand to cover your eyes.

You screech and dodge it. "No more touching people, Andrew!" You cry and notice how his hands are crusting now, too.

"I'm s-sorry! A spirit overcame me and I lost to it," he whimpers impossibly broken. His face is impossibly red, as humiliated tears prick the corners of his eyes. As you look at him, it all slowly begins to click.

"Andrew. Please do not tell me this is y--"

Before the words could fly out, he squeaks and grabs your crusty arms, turning on the faucet to the sink and burying your hands into it. He mingles soap and water into his hands, building suds and before laying them onto your arms. He had a hand slung around you, trapping you between him and the faucet so you wouldn't run anywhere. "Just let me wash you," he whispers so lowly.

You swallow thickly, as arousal and curiosity blooms in your body. "Alright, but after this you'll have to tell me what happened. And without any of the fancy mumbo-jumbo spiritual bollocks," You hissed.

He squeaks, his voice budding soft, "D-Don't curse..." His head leans and rests its weight on yours.

You've never had Andrew this close to you before. The water was perfectly warm, his touch was gentle as he stroked your skin, not leaving any side of you sticky with his... Juices. His hands were much larger and gritty than yours, rugged with the callouses of a working man. Yet they turned pink under the warm water, reminiscent of how pale he was. And you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back, his nervous, humiliated breath against the side of your face, too focused on touching and massaging you than actually washing you off.

He cupped warm water and splashed away the suds, but still, he held you there, softly running his hands along your arm again.

You're so warm and soft.

"That's enough, Andrew," you scolded, aware of how intimate it all was.

"Ah," He squeaked as he turned the water off. And you took the liberty to free yourself. "Don't look at me," he whimpers.

You sigh deeply, staring at his shoes. "You walked your shoes into my Inn. And you smell like the cemetery. Take them off and go shower, there's a robe there that you could borrow," You grumble, watching as he instantly fumbles out of his boots. "I'm going to clean the floors."

"A-Alright!"

🖐💦

The hot steam blew up from the shower head as he stood meekly in the porcelain bathtub. He raked his hands through his blond locks, feeling the hot water run down from his scalp to dribble at his feet. The bathroom at the Inn was much more modern than his smile water basin and shower pipe. He really could sit down in the bathtub if he wanted. Was he deserving to use your bathroom like this?

Oh God, he's in your bathroom, showering- naked.

The heat rushed to his senses as the reality of it all started to settle in. His face blew a stark red as he leaned against the tiled walls, shuffling a shaken breath. His forehead messed into the wall, as he leaned his palms against it.

He was touching himself to you.

That forgotten heat was still there, slowly creaking. His mind raced with it all, the idea, the sounds, the sights. He sucked in a breath one of his hands sneaking down to touch his half-sleeping cock again. It ruptured awake at the minuscule touch, aching into his palm. He swallowed thickly.

Were you naked under that robe?

He hissed at the thought, his eyes rolling back in delight, a subtle chuckle airing from his lips.

Your skin was so soft when he was touching you earlier. You were between him. He could smell you. You smelled of exotic fruits, the time the rich only seemed to know. His hand began to pump his length.

This was so evil of him.

He was letting his flesh win, but it felt so good. His hips bucked into his hand as your name moaned out from his lips. He was so hard he could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his palm. His cock weeping slick in a constant stream mingling in with the hot water and dribbling down the drain.

He wants to touch you like that, in different places too. It's so wrong but God, please, if you're watching him, just look away for tonight. He grips his base in a tough squeeze.

You're so amazing, so beautiful. Just let him touch you a bit. He swallows. "Please," he whimpers out into the air, his thrusting grew animalistic, the pleasure tingling in his back as his grunts grew loud.

He needs you, he doesn't care anymore, he needs you.

He's been needing you for so long.

When you first came here, he spotted you on his grocery trip. You were so stunning that the light seemed to cast a lovely halo on your sweet features. You were so stunning when you rushed to him, to compliment his looks, he moans out at the memory.

He's going to cum. Oh God-

A loud knock split his thoughts into two as he yelped, slapping his water-mixed slick-filled hand over his mouth. You call, "Andrew?"

He yelps again at the fluids on his chin, and at the alarming sound of your voice, "What's going on in there? You're taking a long time," you speak.

He frantically swipes his face and hand again, crying out, "I'll be out!" He immediately shuts the water off, hopping out and to the towels to wipe himself off.

"Andrew... I'm worried about you," you call, and his heart bursts.

He longs for you.

He stares at himself in the mirror, feeling his hard-on twitch.

"You know... It's quite terrifying for you to suddenly appear at my door. And frankly, you looked terrified, I thought... I thought someone had done something to you again..." You whisper, he can bearly hear you over his heart. His eyes flicker between the reflection of his eyes back to him, searching within himself.

He lays his palm against his heart.

"I don't like it when you censor yourself either. I hate it when you act like a holy fraud," You said. His hand clenches to a fist. Him, a fraud? "There's nothing in the world you could say that'd I hate. If there was, that's for me to decide. Not for you to decide for me... So tell me what's going on with you," you whisper into the wood of the door.

"I don't want you hurting. You're so sweet and kind. You're not a devil at all! And it pisses me the hell off whenever -" Your words get cut short, and the door opens, revealing Andrew, eyes lidded, wrapped up in a white rope.

He looks good in the color.

It's a shame he never wears it.

"Don't curse," he whispers, water dripping from his head to his shoulders. His chest heaving with every breath, desire flooding his gaze, lips cracked open breathlessly.

You're taken aback, your blinks are furious. "Sit," you murmur as you bring him to your bed. You both sit facing each other, your arms crossed.

You watch as his face heats up, as his eyes flicker up to see yours in a daze. You suck in an enamored breath, "Tell me."

"Y-You... You provoke my flesh," he whispers it earthly, leaning forward to you, placing a hand by your hip on the bed. Your eyes flicker between his, your blinks slow. "I... want you carnally. I desire you. I pray... N-No. I want you deeply." He's inching closer and closer with a sweet gentle voice, his other hand cupping your arm dear to him. Your hand finds his chest, glimpses of his pale skin underneath his robe. "I couldn't control myself tonight... I'm not sure I want to..."

"Andrew," you hush you between lidded eyes.

"I beg you, let me touch you, please," he's so close to you now, letting his nose brush against the tip of your ear, lips brushing against it for every word, breath mingling and fueling your desire.

You swallow so harshly, grabbing onto his shoulder for stability. He continues, "I can't help but think, isn't it so wrong for a man like me to want this? It's a wicked desire," you hear his confidence falter, and for some reason, it hurts more.

"Don't give up on yourself like that... Succumb to your desires, Andrew. Succumb," you whisper scantily, gripping chunks of his robe and slipping a leg on the bed to fully face him.

He groans viciously, the primal sound sending waves of pleasure through your body. You make the first move, licking a stripe up his neck, dragging the sharpness of your canines gently against his sensitive skin. He moans deeply, the beautifully breathy sound forces you to clench around nothing. It's been a while for you, traveling so much, you haven't had time to take care of yourself.

You lean up to suck briefly on his chin, fluttering your lips closer and closer to his own. But you stop just before to gaze into his eyes. He leans in for you, pressing your sweet lips together. His lips are deliciously delicate, the friction like a much-needed quench. It's barely long before the kiss deepens, as you feed him your tongue. Your soft muscle rushes in to meet his, as you swallow up his yelps and mewls.

His tongue gains its confidence, the shiveringly pleasing feeling of his foreign tastebuds sculpting up your hot mouth. You slurp on his sweet tongue. He grunts and bucks into nothing. Your lips pull away sloppily as he places a hand on you, pushing back onto the bed. "Mmh, wait let's get comfortable," you whisper.

He feels himself ache in his robe

He pulls away from you to follow you as the two of you shuffle to the heart of the smaller bed. "Lay down, I'm going to show you a few things," you tease.

"But I wanna' touch you," he begs into the air.

You shiver intensely at the sound.

"You will," you press him back into the bed, his head resting on his pillows.

He stares at you in disbelief and wonder, the cutest expression dotting his face. You brush his hair out of his face, smiling at his surprise. He's hiding a strong jaw beneath that meek bang, hid beautiful sculpted nose leading to two budding, pink tulips. You shuffle in between his legs, pulling the cord to his rope. His breath hitches, his chest rising and falling with a vigor to run a marathon.

The question pops into your mind as you pull back part of his robe to reveal his lovely chest. "When's the last time you've ever touched yourself, Kriess," you mumble.

"Uh... I suppose... I might have been fourteen," he blinks.

You giggle in disbelief, "Ten years? What a good boy you are. So holy," you hush.

He grunts viciously, "P-Please stop. Just touch me, touch me... Touch me..." He begs, shutting his eyes weakly.

You pull back his robe fully, flashing his wonderfully tone body to you. He was so muscular, so big in stature - the true power of a grave keeper. Your hands tail down his body to his hip, your eyes immediately shifting to toggle the incredibly pink cock of his. His tip was a bullied red as he pulled and twitched into the air. Dribbles of pre-cum touched his belly, and the wet scene was erotically sloppy. He was leaking like a faucet, and it sent your organs aflame.

You groaned at the sight, "So wet for me, Andrew. I'm scared I'll get you pregnant," you tease.

A humiliated squeak flies from his lips, "I-I- I'm sorry. I'm not so s-sure as to how you'd be able to--" but you wouldn't let him continue his lowly apologies as you bent over and pressed a deep kiss into the base of his needy cock.

He moans out into the open, his hands instantly flying to entangle themselves in your hair. You lick up a stripe to his tip, never breaking your stare at his gorgeous face. You pull back, slipping your robe off tantalizingly slow, watching as he whimpers. He gasped at your sweet body, his cock twitching to be touched more.

You gave him something to look at. You smirked.

You leaned down back to his pretty dick, grabbing it at the base and taking the tip into your hot mouth. He was average in length but thick as it filled your mouth. You greedily slurped up his runny juices, closing your eyes with a content sigh as you guided him deeper and deeper into your mouth. His hands clenched chunks of your hair.

The feeling of him entering your mouth was euphoric, as his sweet gasps and moans filtered the air. The sounds were on the quieter side but were sharp and filled with bliss. He chuckled out a delighted sound, his chest heaving as you began to suck.

You twirled your tongue at his piping-hot muscle, hollowing your cheeks and drinking him up. He moaned sweetly into the air, as his legs flew up on each side of you. You bobbed on him, carefully massaging all that you couldn't reach with your hand, lapping him up as if you were thirsty.

"Oh God!" He wailed. His grip grew blood-hot on your hair, the feeling enough for you hiss. You bobbed him viciously in retaliation, the overstimulation forcing his head to lean back. "C-Can't. Can't..." He groaned, he bucked deep into your mouth, gagging you as he held you there with his large fists.

He trusted deep into you, his back arching off the bed, his sounds vulgar and pleading. "F-Fuck, fuck. Please, please, please," he cried out a mantra of fucked out whimpers, riding his high at your expense. His voice picked up strongly, swear dipping down his forehead.

With one final buck into the back of your throat, Andrew pulled out, releasing into the hot crevice of your mouth, his hands releasing you, as they flopped to the side. His rugged fulfilled groans filled the air.

You slipped off him, coughing as you gagged on the intense mixture of your saliva and his slick. "I'm so sorry," you heard him cry as you wiped your lips.

You giggled tiredly, your voice hoarsely adjusting back to the feeling of a dick-free throat. "You're so lovely, 'drew," you leaned up to kiss his lips. The lingering taste of himself meeting him.

You redirected his hands to your chest, and greedily, he squeezed and tugged at anything he could, breaking the kiss so his eyes could oggle you with the passion of a starved man.

His fingers prodded at your nipples until they were hard, then they slipped down your body, feeling the curve of your belly. He instantly shot up as his hand reached down to cup your sex. You giggled out an estranged moan, reaching up to embrace him over his shoulders. "You're so needy," you tried to deflect, pulling your sex away from him.

"Please, jus- please lemme' touch you." He cries out like it pains him.

He the two of you up, not even needing an answer as he pulls you into his lap.

You whimper, leaning into his shoulder as his fingers massage your sex, his tongue frantically passionate. You're deliciously warm to him, and you feel your sex begin to slick his hand. He laughs blissfully at the feeling. The sound of it is soft and filled with childish delight as you rock into him. He speeds up his barrage of you, the friction causing you to rock into his hands, lapping at his neck with your tongue like a dog. Your sex feels painfully hot and messy as you buck into him like a wild animal.

You feel your hole begin to ache, as you push all the way into him, redirecting his hands to touch the puckering hole. "In there," he squeaks suddenly, but you leave no room as you grind down into him.

"Andrew, I was suppose to be devouring you," you whined.

"Haha, it's alright. We can try again later," he twists to see your face, pressing a loving peck against your lips. You blink in shock, his gaze filled with gentleness.

"I haven't had anything up there in a very long while," you whisper into his lips.

"Oh golly..."

⏳️⚰️🖐💦

You arch into his fingers, gripping chunks of the bedsheets. Andrew has you laid out beneath him, his thick, burly fingers playing in your thick walls. You huff into him, his fingers themselves coated in a dangerous mixture of your slick, his cum, and his spit. He's knuckle deep within you, his middle and ring finger plunging into you passionately.

His gaze never left your figure, not even for a second, as he drank up the sight of your trembling form. He leans down between your legs, planting a kiss on your sex the way he's seen you done his mere moments prior. "Andrew," you cry with all your might.

"You're so aroused... Am I that tempting to you?" He purrs, his eyes lidded, hair tucked behind his ear. He's gotten too confident.

You couldn't deny him for a second, "Mmhm, yes, Andrew."

He shudders, his name sounds so good from your lips.

He can't take it anymore.

He slips his finger out of your hole, grabbing himself as he lines up to fit inside. His tip bulged against your entrance, and you puckered kisses against the weeping muscle. He pressed against you, his head breaching into your body.

"Aah! Oh," you hissed. Peeking out from closed eyes, Andrew's face was tensed tight. His lips were glued, his eyes lidded, eyebrows furrowed and his cheeks were filled with air. His strong hands reached and grabbed your hips, squeezing so hard it stung deliciously. The familiar subtle burn of stretching as he pushed himself halfway in.

It was finally then did he released his first moans, the sound was strained and needy, his mind held by the single thread that he should hold himself back.

But by the time you sink into his base, your hot, warm, slicked-up insides are screaming at his senses. He lost all sorts of sensitivity. "Fuck," He cried, his voice burly, as he began to pump at a decent pace.

His head grew heavy as he plummeted onto his hands on top of you, his expression erotic. His toned pale body, his strong arms on each side of your head, his eyes that briefly rolled to the back of his head. "Oh, god," he groaned out. The sound fighting against the shameful sounds of your sexes bumping.

His moans abruptly peak again, his eyes rolling back with stuttering hips. Suddenly an abruption of cum spills into you, making you shudder an arch. "S-Sorry, tryna' hold back... Jus' hold on a bit more," he moans, speech slurred, drunk off your goodness. He was still hard after cumming inside you.

He pulls out slowly, all the way down to the head before plunging right in, causing you to cry and wrap your legs around his waist. You were extra slick now, with how his cock fed you more of his juices. His grip on your hips was intense as he buried his head into your shoulder, thrusting quicker as the heaving sensation of you eating up his cock overtook him.

Every sight, every smell, every taste and touch from you, sent him teetering over the edge. This was so dirty, so vulgar, so shameful, that it made his hips stutter in spiteful bliss. Like an animal, he pumped into you at the pace he liked the most, fueled by your irregular, overstimulated moans that rewarded him. You wrapped your arms around him in the tango, burying your nails into his skin as he hit your sweet spot, your jaw falling slack in disbelief.

He was so thick, so filling. Your belly was swarming in satisfaction, feeling all of your inside move and squirm to his every wild buck. He pulled out of your shoulder and pinned your head between him again. His reddish, blueish eyes found you like a greedy hawk. He was completely fucked out, staring down deep into your eyes, not looking away for a second, daring you to keep the gaze.

You whimpered and cried, holding onto his forearms, squeezing and jerking around his cock. He grunted deeply, etches of a delighted smile ghosting his fucked out expression. He was glistening with sweat, a non-stop pent-up sex-machine.

You growled in fear, feeling your orgasm overtake you. You arched down deep into his body, as you spilled out, crying out a useless, "An-Andreew," that fell on deaf ears.

"Please, p-please, please, G-God... Just a little more," he whispers to you. He presses his kisses on your cheek. But truly, he's unsure of who he's calling out to anymore.

He slows for your orgasm, grinding on you wildly, riding out your high as your head collapses back on the pillow.

He pulls out and turns you on your side, grabbing one of your legs and hooking it over his shoulder. "Just a little more, please," he cries, he's still hard, still twitching. He peppers sweet kisses on your eyelids, nuzzling his nose into your warmth.

"F-Fine, Andrew. Don't make me say it," you stutter, your face heating in this embarrassing position.

He leans to suckle on your collarbone, distracting you almost until you feel his abrasive length slip into your body again. You mewl out, listening to his shaky breath deep in your ears. He rests his head against the side of yours, your knee hitting your shoulder. "Y-You're very flexible," he praises with a giggle, it almost soothes the anger you feel at his wildness.

You can't even retaliate when he begins to thrust slower, as his wandering lips slip around to pepper kisses on your earlobe, your jawline, your neck, and even on the back of your leg. Your eyes roll at the tantalizingly slow thrusts, all paired with the sweet kisses. He gently cups your chin, turning you to face him as he leaves an earnest peck on your lips. "I love you," he whines childishly.

You giggle in surprise, "I know. I love you e-even more, Kriess," you manage between your pants.

"Oh, God," he whispers, bucking into you with a stutter. You gasp in shock, overstimulation brimming through your body.

"Don't cur- urse," you somehow manage out, grabbing chunks of the bedsheets.

He laughs lazily and begins to pump up the pace, leaning up and fucking into you fervently. You squeeze down on him at the sudden abrasiveness, arching and crying out with all of your body.

The wooden bed creaks, a sound that causes Kreiss' breath to hitch. A sound so dangerous you could see the thought process behind it. He pulls almost out and slams deeply into you again, your toes curling painfully- and yet to your dismay, the bed creeks again.

He laughs blissfully again, stuttering out between moans, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," he grunts, pistoning into you roughly, desperate to hear the animalistic creaking of the beneath you too. You cry out in overstimulation, your own orgasm building up, ready to spike.

"Please, pleugh... God- gonna... Oh!" A shiver overtakes him as his thrusts get sloppy and stuttering, as you squeeze and milk him of everything he has, your own high reaches its peak at the same time you're bursting with cum deep inside you, as Andrew thrusts into his base and grinds deeply against you, forcing you into an intense orgasm. "C-Cummin' cah..." You watch as sporadic twitch trails from his back, down his arms, and sparks into his fingertips.

His face is completely fucked out, his jaw relaxed, eyes rolled up to the heavens still in prayer. He finally, sweaty, heaving, pulls out of you, his penis going completely soft.

You've never been a religious person, but seeing him finally soft almost turned you into one. You were saved!

You dropped your head back onto the pillow your leg slipping off him as falls back onto his ass. You stare at the wall as you catch your breath, the room suddenly aware of how it smells like sweat and fluids. His cumming so much within you is going to be a problem, but a problem for later you.

Andrew weakly reaches and pats your ankle, and you turn to gaze at him. He's smiling panting out, pure joy bursting on his sweet face. You knew you were going to be so sore, and so tired in the morning but. It was hard to stay mad at a face like that.

He crawls over to you, sitting next to you as he rolls you onto your back. His fingers subconsciously rub circles into your belly as he mutters, "That was heavenly..." He hushes into your lips as he kisses them sweetly.

"Mmh... Andrew," you mutter.

He giggles ecstatically, leaning down and placing a hand on each side of you. He kisses up and down your neck dearly.

"I want to do this with you more," he mutters shyly in that familiar, raspy, airy tone.

And just like that, you were no longer religious.

"Please God save me," You cry playfully.

"Don't curse," he giggles into your neck.

[five-and-dimes]

Dimes/Cheshyr Dreamling Week Masterpost

Oh hi. Didn't see ya there. In honor of Dreamling Week 2024 I am finally compiling my Dreamling fics (which is... all my Sandman fics lol) into a nice convenient masterpost.

Enjoy my excessive hurt/comfort shenanigans:

Your Eyes Slay Me Suddenly (King/Knight AU, 5.8k words) Hob is a knight for King Morpheus, and while they're clearly into each other, Morpheus has some secrets getting in the way.

Run Away (But We're Running in Circles) (Canon Divergence, 10.8k words) Dream isn't really loved- there are just people in his life who love everyone. Hob and co. work hard to prove him wrong.

Off Book (Human AU, Explicit, 890 words) Dream knows that every interaction has a script, even if the words he's supposed to say aren't really what he wants.

As You Always Were (Human AU, 2k words) Hob is finally coming out to his boyfriend. It goes... different than he expected.

Unsung Lullabies (Canon Divergence, 30.7k words) Hob is tasked with watching Dream after he is turned into a small child. In the process, he learns a lot about the things that shaped his lover into who he is as an adult.

A White Blank Page (Canon Divergence, 4.3k words) Hob lashes out at Dream, but it's hard to apologize when Dream thinks he's done nothing wrong.

Mountain Sounds (Vampire/Werewolf AU, 6.3k words) There are many who think it's wrong for a vampire and a werewolf to be together, and so they try to tear them apart. They go about it the wrong way.

Next to Nothing (Retired Dream, 6k words) Dream thinks his difficulties as a new human are a personal failing. Determined not to burden Hob with his struggles, he ends up hiding things he shouldn't.

Undisclosed Desires (Canon Divergence, Explicit, 4.7k words) Hob learns that Dream has never experienced receiving oral sex. He decides to fix that problem immediately.

100 Years of Drowning (So What's a Few More?) (Canon Divergence, 4.8k words) Dream doesn't think it's necessary for Hob to know the details of his imprisonment, even if it makes some things harder. That's all fine and well until Hob wants to shower together.

Sloom (Canon Divergence, 5.2k words) Hob wants to meet Dream's family, and Dream fears the consequences of Hob learning that the other Endless are so much better than him.

Smile Like You Mean It (Canon Divergence, 4.6k words) Hob is determined to hear Dream laugh, and Dream is determined to hide it.

Endless. Not Everything. (Canon Divergence, 5.3k words) Dream is under the impression that Hob is not attracted to his masculine form, and decides to do something about it, even to his own detriment.

Come Morning Light (Canon Divergence, 6.3k words) In which Dream has nightmares about Hob speaking to him with someone else's voice.

Now I Lay Me (Canon Divergence, 10.5k words) Dream is tired of being a person, and so choses to dissolve into the Dreaming in order to preserve his function while still being gone. Those close to him have a lot to say about that decision.

Body and Soul (Canon Divergence, 3k words) Dream is willing to give Hob anything he wants, but his body is sometimes louder than he is.

Safe in the Palm of Your Hands (Canon Divergence, 2.1k words) During a panic attack, Dream shapeshifts and flees somewhere he feels safe. Coincidentally, there is a mouse in Hob's apartment.

[belovedmusings]

Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.

Choso Kamo x You x Suguru Geto

Explicit Themes 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Part seven of the 'Two + One' story. Click for story masterlist.

Guitarist! Choso Kamo is your boyfriend, and he finally notices that his bandmate, Suguru may feel some type of way about you. Now, it's up to you to decide whether you want to come clean about your own feelings for Suguru, and your subconscious may just decide for you.

Relevant tags: sexual tension, thoughts of infidelity, characters with questionable morals, Suguru is hot, Suguru has piercings and tattoos amen, Choso is sweet and loyal, slow burn, no "y/n" for immersion, 2nd POV, reader has no defining characteristics, explicit smut, missionary, nipple play (fem receiving)

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Just Pretend (Bad Omens), Is There Someone Else (The Weekend), Undisclosed Desires (Muse)

A/N: I'm starting to think Bad Omens ghostwrote this fic the way that entire album fits this story perfectly. Also, just for clarification, the italic texts are yours, and the bolded texts are Suguru's! The drama is getting real and it will continue to build. Enjoy ;)

Read on Ao3 if you prefer!

Or read below cut:

Things return to a semblance of normalcy. 

Choso continues to work with Curse Manipulator.

Suguru doesn’t text or call you, despite having gotten your number, and you sort of let it be.

You greet Choso when he comes home, and you’re both happy to see each other.

The two of you even have a better sex life than you’ve ever had now that he’s become bolder with you.

But it feels like you’re walking on thin ice. Microcracks are undulating beneath the weight of your steps, the frigid void of water beneath beginning to seep through. There are no indications. You just feel like something is off.

He isn’t acting like anything is wrong…but it’s almost as if things are too quiet.

This purgatory drags on for about a month until one night, when you’re home alone and you get a text from Suguru.

He noticed.

You pause as soon as you read it. He noticed? What does Suguru mean by that?

What?

I’ve been asking about you more, he asked me what was up.

Then I told him the truth.

Your heart full-on drops into the pit of your stomach.

What did you say?

I said I think you’re attractive.

Was that all?

Well, I also said I have no intention of usurping you. That I respect him and your relationship.

But I wanted to tell you because he’s probably going to bring it up.

So be prepared.

The way he’s talking, it sounds like the two of you have to cover something up. It’s like it’s a late-stage affair rather than just the metaphorical dance-around-the-fire the two of you have been engaging in.

Is it still bad? Yes. Is this text conversation proof of that? Yes, again.

Okay…

Thanks for the heads up.

Also,

I’ve been wanting to text you but I wasn’t sure what to say.

Anything is incriminating, right?

Not necessarily…you could ask me how my day was or…I don’t know, bring up a new movie or song or…

Maybe it just feels that way because of how I feel about you.

And how I know you feel about me.

It’s not innocent.

You have to set the phone down for a minute to gather your bearings. What game is he playing? You haven’t heard from him in a month and now he does this?

Your hand picks your phone back up and you type out a reply.

When you talk like that, of course it’s not.

How can I see what your face looks like right now without you being here?

What do you see?

Your eyes are heavy. There’s a weight in them. You’re probably holding my hand again.

I wish I was.

Good god, you can’t catch a break.

Should you really be flirting with me after you told my boyfriend you were attracted to me?

He just thinks it’s one-sided.

He doesn’t know you feel the same.

So now I have to pretend like it is?

You have a choice to make. Tell him you’re attracted to me or just act surprised.

You mean, lie to him either way?

What other option do you have that won’t end in disaster?

He has a point. You can’t say it’s more than attraction, then he’d catch Suguru in a lie also. He’d realize it goes deeper than how he made it seem. So what?

Be half-honest, or lie completely?

Anyways…how was your day?

The abruptness of the text has you laughing aloud in the silence of your living room. 

It was fine. How was yours?

Just worked. We’re getting close to finalizing the album, then the next steps will come.

What are the next steps?

A music video for the title track, press run, and a tour. It’s going to be our biggest album yet.

As you read it, the gravity of it all hits you. 

Choso is part of a successful band. And it’s on the trajectory to get bigger and bigger. All of the proper groundwork has been laid—they’re local stars, and with a music video and the team Suguru has secured to help with promotion, their music will find new fans all over the place. With that comes touring, traveling all over the country and even the world…it’s huge.

Wow.

I can’t believe this is all happening.

It sounds like a lot, doesn’t it?

Well, yeah. You’re going to be proper rock stars.

Haha

You’ll be along for the ride.

Choso’s going to want you there. And I will too.

You’ll see everything we do.

That sounds fun and intimidating.

It does, right?

But it’s exciting. Choso is exactly what we were missing. With him we’re going to make it.

I feel proud.

You should. 

A question pops into your mind.

Was it always your goal to have fame?

Haha, well, I admit I am a bit of a show-off.

I just think everything happened to put me in this position.

That makes sense. I feel special, getting to know you guys before you get big. I’m your first groupie.

Haha, come on, you’re more than that. So much more.

I know. But I really am a fan. Your music is all I play recently.

Yeah? What song is your favorite?

Strange. You wrote it about your life, right?

I did. It’s sort of an autobiography. I’m surprised that’s your favorite, it’s one of the only songs of ours that’s really personal.

Why are you surprised? I remember when you told me about that stuff. Hearing it in a song was beautiful.

You sound so open and honest when you’re singing.

Oh, I see…

Was I not when I told you?

No, I meant I could feel your emotions because of how you sang it.

It’s breathtaking.

When you compliment me like that, it goes straight to my head.

Coming from you, that means the world.

I’ll make more meaningful songs in the future.

You don’t have to just because it’s what I like.

No, I want to.

I have some things I want to say.

You know, you’ve inspired me a lot.

You groan out loud, laying back on the couch and rubbing at your face in frustration. What are you supposed to do with that? This doesn’t sound like ‘no intentions of usurping’. 

Luckily (or unluckily) the lock in your front door turns, indicating the return of your boyfriend. 

You close out of the messaging app and lock your phone, hoping to ignore that text the rest of the night. With that you pretend to have been watching whatever show is on television as he walks in.

Immediately, his smile is tight as he greets you. “Hey.”

Oh god, here we go.

“Hey, baby,” you reply, giving him a smile as he moves to sit beside you after removing his shoes. He gives you a kiss on the cheek, arms winding around your waist. “How was it today?”

“It was okay,” he begins, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before they flit away. “I had an interesting conversation with Suguru.”

You steel yourself. “Interesting how?”

“Well,” he hesitates, pulling away and resituating himself on the cushion beside you, fiddling with his hands for a moment. “Lately, he’s been asking a lot…about you. At first, I didn’t think much of it. But then Larue randomly said today ‘you should bring her by again, Suguru won’t shut up about her.’ I didn’t realize he spoke about you when I wasn’t around. It got me thinking…why would he be talking about you like that? Then he mentioned you again, how you haven’t been around, and then I decided to just ask him what it was about once the other two guys left.”

You take a breath. “Um, okay…and?”

“And he told me he was attracted to you. Like, straight-up. I mean, he reassured me he wasn’t going to do anything about it, but I…I don’t know. I mean, he’s Suguru. He could probably have whoever he wants. If he went after you…”

Moment of truth. Who will you be? 

“Um…” You begin, heart pounding as you find your words, “well, that’s…”

Choso’s eyes flit back to yours, waiting to hear what you have to say.

“Well, I…thought maybe he did…”

“You did?” Choso asks, “You thought he was interested in you? Since when?”

“I don’t know, I just had a feeling.” Okay, so now you are a liar. Guilt starts fortifying deep in your gut. “I-I mean, I didn’t know for sure.”

“Oh,” Choso frowns, “So…I mean…what do you think about it?”

The correct answer is to tell him there’s no chance in hell. But hell is where you currently are, and you’ve entertained Suguru enough already, so what does that do for anyone?

You sigh heavily. “To…to be honest…I mean, he is an attractive guy, but I would never leave you for him, not in a million years, Chos’.”

Choso’s face is unreadable for a second, and you immediately begin regretting what you just said.

“So…” He breathes out, brows furrowing slightly. “What I’m…hearing is that you two are attracted to each other?”

Back pedal, back pedal, back pedal.

“I meant that he’s just a good-looking guy. You know? And he’s nice, but that doesn’t compare to what you and I have. We have history and intimacy, baby, I would never let him disrupt that.”

Haven’t you already, though? Liar.

“But what if it was different? If you met him first, and then me? If you had the history and intimacy with him? Would you still want me the same?”

Can he see right through you? This has potential to blow up in your face. You need to put this fire out now. 

“It’s not that serious,” you shake your head, taking his hands, “I’m in love with you, Chos’, and there are tons of good-looking guys out there, that doesn’t mean that I like them or want to be with them!”

“So you don’t like Suguru like that? It’s just that you think he’s good-looking?”

“Right.” Wrong.

Choso sucks in a deep breath, reaching up and taking his hair out of their ties to rub at his head. “Well…I…I trust you, obviously, it’s just weird.”

“Y-yeah, that’s understandable.” 

You’re lying to the man you love. This who you are now, isn’t it? A bad person. 

“I don’t need to worry, do I?”

“No,” you say in a rush, “baby, I’m yours, okay? I love you so much. You are the best. And nothing will take me away from you.”

He looks at you for a moment before moving closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you. “I’m just so afraid you’ll fall out of love with me. You’re my world and it’s unhealthy how much I love you. I’d sooner let you walk all over my heart than leave me.”

Each word twists the dagger he’s lodged in your heart harder and harder. 

All you can say is, “I love you,” like an apology, squeezing him tightly in your arms. 

“I love you,” he replies, tightening his own hold on you, and despite all of the words you exchanged, it doesn’t feel like you’ve reached a resolution at all.

You’ve just dug yourself a deeper hole.

____

“I want to keep going,” Suguru stares up at you, his mouth at the line of your shirt, dangerously near the top of your breast. You’ve seen this before—you two are in your living room all alone. Choso’s at his brother’s house. This is the part where Suguru pulls away and says he won’t go further.

Except, he doesn’t do that. He pulls you onto the couch. You wind up beneath him quickly, and he doesn’t stop. His greedy hands tug your shirt down, exposing you to his eyes, and his pierced lips wrap around a nipple, large palms on your hips, gripping them like you’ll float away if he doesn’t hold you down.

You feel the bead of his tongue piercing on your stiff peak, and can’t stop the gasp of his name.

“Suguru!”

He smiles up at you, that infuriating crooked grin, his hands working expertly to get you naked. His mouth kisses, tastes, and marks any expanse of skin he can touch, and before you know it, you can’t even remember if either of you had been wearing clothes in the first place. All you feel is his hot skin on yours everywhere.

He hovers his face over yours, molten sunset eyes locked with yours.

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Don’t care.”

His mouth devours yours as a parched traveler attacks an oasis, and you moan at the taste of his mouth, the warmth of his tongue on yours, and you just let go. Your hands thread into his beautiful black tresses, cupping his face, kissing him with all of the desire in the world. 

Then, he’s inside of you.

It knocks the wind out of you, dislodging the kiss so you can cry out another, “Suguru!”

He groans, and then he’s moving, thrusts coming quick and hard, like an animal mauling its prey, carnal and so so delicious, your hands find his chest, his neck, his abdomen, his arms, his hips—you want to grab onto any and every part of him but nowhere you touch is enough, you want to become one with him. 

He goes harder and you can’t stop saying his name. It’s an incantation, evoking a side of you that you’ve never known, that you’re afraid of, that you vy for.

“Suguru…” it tumbles freely, “Suguru, Suguru!”

He takes you to heights you’ve never been to before, and you feel light as air yet far away like you’re at the bottom of the ocean. He fills your lungs, it’s impossible to breathe when it’s this hot—

Your eyes snap open. A hand is on your shoulder. Eyes are on yours. 

But they don’t belong to Suguru.

You’re in bed with Choso, and your blood suddenly runs cold. 

You were dreaming. 

The resignation in his eyes says it all.

“You…were saying his name in your sleep.”

---

A/N: evil cliffhanger oopsies...hope you enjoyed!! Also, I changed the cover art for the story 'cause it looked a little too cringe. This one is still cringe but tastefully so. Okay, d out!

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share!

Taglist (comment here or my masterlist if you want to be added): @jaegerstan222 , @cosmicstarlatte , @dabisdolly , @moonriseoverkyoto , @propheticfire , @bontensbabygirl , @crlyhairedwxtch , @alittlebirdahgaselx , @okkovtsu , @notbellasstuff , @uchihabbynic , @polaroidnana , @childofilluvatar , @shadowfoxy , @jordan-network , @dreamtravelersade , @unmatchxd , @lucyrocks86 , @spineyy , @k3lbade , @xxbuckpoppi , @naughtygobbo , @slammynics , @roseambers , @luvingyouwasreallyhard , @hinachaaan , @redladyrae-blog , @spiteless-xo , @slutforaz , @bellaabee082 , @thedorklingqueen , @delayedrage , @poopwons , @pandisastergod , @username23345 , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @forest-haven , @midnaamethyste , @bihanspookies , @mysteriouskiller1 , @liyahthings , @makingtimemine

[astarionancuntnin]

Undisclosed Desires (Chapter 2)

summary: its the day after you and astarion indulged in each other's embrace. it shouldve been a once done deal, nothing more, but that last night ended with you questioning your feelings for the pale elf. you struggle to come to terms with those and the day might prove more difficult as you get trapped alone with him in a secluded dungeon

or in short:

rating: E

word count: 4k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, sorceress tav)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with little-to-no plot, karlach gets hurt for the sake of the porn (shes doing her part o7), denial of feelings, sexual tension through the roof, dom!tav/reader, teasing, dry humping, begging, ear licking, vampire bites, kinda praise kink, sorta breeding kink, your honor- theyre both brat switches fighting to top the other.

a/n: at long last, chapter 2! i had so much fun with the dialogues, i hope you enjoy them as much as i did uwu. also, inspo song at the beginning is the same as chapter 1, but a different part of the song, and end of chapter song is a different one (that i linked at the end). let me know how you feel about the dynamic in this chapter 👀

Masterlist

previous chapter

read on ao3

next chapter

or keep reading down below ~

I shut my eyes

You call but I just cut the line

I know your style

I know that you want one more night

And I'm backsliding

Into this just one more time

-

You wake up this morning to the sound of your companions talking nearby. Instinctively, you reach for the spot next to you, only to find it empty. Figures. If it wasn’t for the aching pain in your muscles and the dizziness of your mind, you’d think what happened last night was just a dream.

The way Astarion had ravaged your body, how feral he was, the taste of him on your lips, how he felt between your legs…

Instinctively, you rub your thighs together, chasing the feeling from the previous night. You already feel that warmth between your legs as a result of those memories flooding back to you. You hear laughing outside your tent and it brings you back to the present moment ; your companions are probably waiting for you.

You quickly push aside any thoughts of him and reach for your clothes to get dressed up for the day. You take some time to prepare for what your companions have to say about the sounds that came from your tent last night. They had to have heard.

As you take your first step outside, Karlach is the first to greet you.

“Hey Soldier! Slept well? Doubt it was restful but it looks like you had the time of your life!” She nudges you.

“You can say that again! Those screams made me believe she was dying in there!” Shadowheart shouts, sitting near the campfire, before her and Karlach start laughing.

You feel yourself turn redder after each remark. Hells, I didn’t realize how loud I was.

“It did sound… intense. Are you sure you’re alright?” Wyll speaks up, more worried about you.

You lift your blushing face which was hiding in shame between your hands. “Oh, yeah no, I’m fine just- um,” you turn to Shadowheart, “Can I ask you to cast lesser restoration on me, please?”

She looks at you puzzled, “Can’t you cast it on yourself?”

“The only thing I wanna cast on myself at this very moment is eldritch blast, now, can you please cast the damn spell?”

“So much for the ‘great sorceress with limitless talents’,” she mocks you, reminding you of the very words you used back when you introduced yourself to her.

“SHADOW.”

“Fine, fine,” she scoots over the log, making space for you. “Come here, I’ll take care of you.”

You walk over to her and you sigh as you sit down, completely slouched over.

“Gods, he really did a number on you, huh,” she casts lesser restoration and you straighten up, instantly feeling much better. 

“Yeah, you should see the other guy,” you say, smiling, proud to have gained back your wits.

“Speaking of,” Wyll interjects. “We haven’t seen him all morning. We fully expected him to come out of your tent.”

“Huh, I did wake up alone,” you confess. “I just assumed he went back to his tent.”

“Heh! Maybe he’s still in there recuperating from your night together!” Karlach shouts, before laughing some more.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go check up on him,” you roll your eyes as you get up to walk towards his tent.

You’re glad it’s placed far enough from the campfire to be out of your friend’s sights. You didn’t want to give them more ideas if they saw you with the vampire this morning. You call out his name before opening the flap of his tent, only to reveal it to be empty. 

“Looking for something?”

You slightly jump, as if you were caught doing something you shouldn’t have, and quickly turn around to face him.

“Gods, you startled me.”

He walks towards you, shirtless, with his hair still damp from his morning bathing and his trousers hanging loosely around his hips.

“Terribly sorry dear, I would never do this to you intentionally.”

His little smile is unnerving. Your heartbeat quickens, and you frown at yourself; You can’t allow yourself to falter this early in the day. You take a deep breath, your way to gain back control over yourself. 

“We’re almost ready to leave, so I came looking for you,” you try to look elsewhere but you’re mesmerized by his sight.

“Well, here I am now. Can I… help you with something?”

He raises his hand and strokes your cheek gently with the back of it, his face dangerously getting near yours. You feel your face burning hotter and it takes everything in you to push yourself away from him.

“We should really go, just– get dressed. I’ll uh, I’ll wait for you around the campfire with the others.”

You turn around completely flustered and walk back to your companions.

“Again?!” Karlach exclaims as she sees the state you’re in. “At this rate, you’ll turn redder than me!”

You wanna crawl into the depths of the hells and never come back up.

—

Today’s quest brings you to a secluded dungeon. Your findings from the previous days led you there in search for more information about an artifact you previously found throughout your adventure. If you’re correct, you should find here what’s missing for it to work. Now the only thing left to do is actually finding that missing piece.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Astarion opens the door to the lower grounds. As the door opens, you’re greeted by damp air and a musty smell. The place is dusty and covered in spiderwebs. Whatever you’re looking for must be here judging by the fact that no one has been down here in ages. You all walk in and notice that the place is a damned maze filled with countless rooms. You split up from the group, starting the search on your own, and the first room you walk in greets you with an absurdly obvious trap. You sigh, discouraged, as you fall back against the wall next to the entrance. Guess I won’t be able to avoid him much longer.

“Astarion? A hand?!” Your voice echoes through the hallways, followed by the sound of his footsteps.

He makes his way towards you nonchalantly, “You called, dear?”

“Can you take care of this?” You point towards the device.

He leans over you, his arms caging you between him and the wall, “I could, if you were to ask nicely.” His face hovers dangerously close to you, you can feel his cold breaths ghosting over your lips. It would be so easy to just tilt your head up and close the gap… No, you can’t let him win this. Last night was just a mutual agreement. An exchange of sorts. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cross your arms over your chest, creating some distance between the two of you, “Don’t push your luck.”

“Oh well, I assume you know how to deal with such an intricate mechanism then, if you’re so much better than I am?”, he wears his typical shit-eating grin.

You roll your eyes and step over your pride, “Fine. Can you please disarm this trap so we can carry on?” 

“See? Now, was that so hard?” He gives you a playful look before getting to work.

You stand next to him as he fickles with the machinery when you hear a loud commotion from afar.

“FUCK!”

You recognize the voice from your fiery friend and waste no time running towards the source of her scream, only to find her in a terrible state with Shadowheart kneeling next to her. Her leg is barely recognizable. Whatever got her rendered her unable to fight from now on.

“What happened?!”

“Godsdamned trap got me, shit!” She keeps groaning in pain.

“Alright, Shadowheart, do you think you can take care of her wounds?”

“I can stabilize her, but she won’t be able to carry on with her injuries, we need to head back to camp as soon as possible so I can tend to her,” she explains.

“Okay, okay,” your eyes wander between your friends as you’re thinking of a solution. “Yeah, okay, you’re right, I’m not risking Karlach’s life on this,” the cleric nods in agreement, “But we can’t back track now. Who knows what else this trap triggered, it might’ve alarmed someone. We are so close to finding the answer, I can't risk letting it slip past us.”

Shadowheart raises as she’s about to argue but you cut her off, “Don’t worry, I still believe you two should head to the camp. Astarion and I will carry on.” You feel Shadowheart’s glare of disapproval. “I swear we’ll be careful and we’ll run back to you guys should we encounter a situation that's too much for us.” You try to reassure your friend.

“Oooooooo, keeping Fangs all to yourself?” Karlach never missed an opportunity to tease you, even when in insufferable pain. You could respect that.

“Oh please, if it were up to me, he would be the one in that trap.”

“Rude,” Astarion remarks from behind you. You can’t help the smirk creeping up on your face.

“Fine,” the half-elf frowns in resignation. “We’ll head back– but don’t do anything stupid.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Astarion adds sarcastically, as the two walk away.

With half of your party gone, you lose no time continuing your research. You didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with half the manpower in unknown territory. You pass a few halls and rooms, each containing an absurd amount of traps for what little they were hiding, slowly getting discouraged from your lack of findings, when you hear rumble afar.

You both still, listening to the sounds, when you realize they are making their way towards you. 

“Hide!”, you barely whisper.

Before he can react, you roughly drag Astarion with you in the next open room and slam the door behind you. You acted faster than you could think ; the sound of the door was loud and the footsteps are now getting faster and louder. You try to remain calm to avoid drawing any more attention than necessary when you see the expression change on your companion’s face, followed by him yelling.

“What in the sweet hells is wrong with–!”

You don’t give him time to finish his sentence as you push him against the stone wall by his waist with the force of your whole body, while your other hand covers his mouth. You stare intensely into his eyes and mouth a “shh”, as silent as you can, to convey the urgency for him to shut up as the rumble of the footsteps get even closer to your location. He blinks rapidly and nods, understanding your motion, but brings his hand up to remove yours from his mouth. You hear the footsteps stop nearby and your heart pounding in your chest as your breathing stills. Your eyes dart towards the door, anxiety building up in your chest. Anything could be outside. You cannot risk getting into a fight you couldn’t handle. Against his own good, Astarion speaks up yet again.

“Let’s just kill–”

And you shut him up, again. 

This time, with a kiss.

It’s a surprise to both of you. It was sudden, instinctive. You’re not sure what took over you, but at this moment, it seemed to be the best course of action. You stay motionless for a moment before pulling away, slowly. You hear the sounds outside your room getting further away and you finally breathe out in relief. He looks at you with an annoying smile painted over his face.

You notice him observing you. “You really need to learn when to shut up,” you say, a poor excuse to try and justify your actions, as a blush takes place over your cheeks.

His lidded eyes observe your lips before making eye contact again, “And you think you know better?”

“I know I do,” you frown slightly. 

He keeps smiling, that damn annoyingly confident smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to teach me, then. I’ve been known to be awfully loud.”

You scoff. The audacity of this man.

Initially, that first kiss was never supposed to lead to anything else. It was spontaneous, a means to an end, just like your last night spent together. Anything to stop him from talking, whatever would save you from being found. But you couldn’t deny the feelings that fluttered in your stomach, the butterflies in your chest. 

He continues, his words dripping with sarcasm, “I’m sure a sorceress of your expertise must have some way to silence a noisy rogue like myself.”

You realize then : all along, you didn’t hate him, you hated the fact that you were attracted to him, to that damn attitude of his. Truth is, you couldn’t have enough of that banter between the two of you. Every morning, that was the thing you were looking forward to. There was no denying yourself anymore ; you chased the feeling of arguing with this overblown, pretentious asshole. You wanted him, in more ways than one, and in any way he would offer himself to you.

“I can think of a few tricks,” you lean over him the same way he did you earlier, your faces barely an inch apart.

“Try me,” his voice is barely a whisper by now.

You let your feelings guide your next move as you pull him in by the collar of his armor, crashing your lips against his. If he saw this as a game, you intended to win. As the kiss depends, you’re taken back to that scenario you played in your head the night before, prior to Astarion’s visit.

At the next corner, you would’ve pushed him by the waist against the nearest wall and shut his pretty mouth up. 

Your kiss started out rough, but it quickly became passionate, it engulfed both of you into a world of your own. His hands roamed up your back and down your waist, pulling you in closer, reaching for more contact. Your sorcerer robe allowed for you to feel how tightly he grabbed you and yet, it didn’t feel like enough. You wished for nothing more than having your skin being ravished by his touch.

You would’ve taken the chance to let one of your hands roam through his silky smooth, curly hair, pulling it enough to get a moan out of him. 

Oh, and how soft it was. Freshly washed from this morning, his curls felt like silk through your fingers. You let your hands linger in his hair, combing through it, before lightly pulling it back. He groans in your mouth as a response, not parting from your lips just yet, and you smile through it.

How you would’ve parted his legs with your own, and grinded against his crotch, feeling his growing bulge.

You easily push yourself between his legs and grind against him. He pulls back from your kiss then, gasping in surprise. With the threat outside the room being long gone, you welcomed any noise you would get out of him. You feel his cock getting harder against your leg and you keep rubbing him up and down, creating more pressure over his member. He rests his head on your shoulder, breathing hard, his hold on you getting tighter. 

“Hells, darling, I didn’t think you had it in you,” he pants.

“Mmh, seems like I’ve got a lot more to teach you then.”

You reach for your trousers under your robe, letting them fall down after loosening  your belt, before reaching for his, pulling them down just low enough to expose his cock which is already leaking with pre-come. He hisses when you grab a hold of him, your mere touch sending shivers down his spine.

You smirk at the visible reaction he has to you, feeling powerful over him. Such a contrast compared to your last night tryst. This time, you were guiding this dance.

You guide him towards your entrance, only to grind yourself over him. He slides so easily between your wet folds and you can’t help the moan escaping your lips. The friction over your clit is nothing short of euphoric. You swing your hips back and forth, coating his length with your arousal, as he holds onto your waist for dear life. You grab his face and pull him closer so your foreheads touch, then take a moment to admire the mess you’re making of him, and by the Gods, what a pretty mess he was. His parted lips, gasping between each stroke you would allow him, his eyes fluttering open, lost in the feeling of your thighs squeezing him, his roughed up curls from the sweat building up on his forehead. 

He was beautiful.

You feel him moving on his own, trying to change positions so he has more control, but it's not something you will allow this time. You take his hands from your waist and push them against the wall he was leaning against, never stopping the rhythm you had going on. 

“What do you think you're doing?” Your voice is coated with desire.

“Please, let me in,” he begs.

“Do you think you deserve it?”, you say, playfully.

“Gods, I– yes, yes I do!”, he whines.

“Beg more.”

“What?! I will not–”, before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his ear with your tongue and give it a lick from the base to the tip. “Mmmgh ah, fuck–” 

“What was that?” You nibble on his ear.

“I– Ah–,” his entire resolve crumbles. “Please, love, I need you please,”  he begs again, his voice faltering.

You continue to lick and nibble on his ear. “See? Now, was that so hard?” you tease, using his own words against him.

“Oh, you little– ah–!”

You cut him off as you raise your leg to hook it to his hips allowing you for a better angle as you push him inside you slowly. You’re so wet from teasing him that he slides in without any resistance.

You throw your head back, taking in the feeling of him filling you, and at the vision of your exposed neck, Astarion leans in the crook of your neck, bared fangs scratching the spot he previously fed from you. You feel his cold breath along with the wetness of his tongue, lapping at your healed wound. You sense what he wants to do and although you crave it and you would let him do it, you don’t wanna give in so easily.

You stop all motion and with him buried deep inside of you, your hand lingering in his hair grabs a handful of curls to pull him back, away from your prized neck, holding him in place. 

He growls insistently, his true nature coming back to him.

“Give me one good reason,” you tug harder.

Through his ragged breath, he smiles playfully, “I just wanted a snack for the road.”

“You drank last night, you don’t need it,” your tone comes out raspy and aggressive despite your enjoyment of the situation.

“But you want this,” he pauses, watching your reaction. Your answer isn’t spoken, as much as it’s seen : your chest rises higher with each panting breath you take, your eyes flutter, drunk on lust, and your core is dripping wet, your combined fluids leaking against your leg. “Don't you?” He knows both of you know it's a fight for control. 

You thrust roughly, once, to reassert your position over him, making him whimper. “And just what makes you think that?”

He locks eyes with you, a grin painting over his face. “You seemed to enjoy it last time.”

“Hardly.”

“My dear, you can deny it all you want, but I can read you like an open book.”

You hated how he always managed to have the last word. One day, you tell yourself, It’ll be me. But for now…

“Shut up and bite me.”

The second you let go of your grasp in his hair, Astarion dives in the nook of your neck, plunging his fangs in your pulsating vein. You cry out at the sharp sting you feel and once the initial pain settles in, you pick back up the rhythm you had earlier, making the elf groan as he drinks you in. He was right, his bites had the effect of an aphrodisiac on you. You would never tell him though, his ego was inflated enough as is, admitting it would only make him more insufferable than he already is.

His hold on you became tighter and the more he drank, the less your strength allowed you to keep your position, but the build up down your stomach only grew. You didn't want to falter so close to the end.

“Astarion…” you warn him.

He growls against your neck and takes one last sip of your liquid gold before removing his fangs from you, licking off the new wound he created to clean you up. That's something else you could appreciate from the vampire ; no matter how selfish you found him, he did seem to respect the boundaries you established. He would absolutely push all of your buttons but when it came to sex he seemed more attentive, responsive. You never wanted to fall for him, but your heart had other plans.

You cross your arms around his neck, closing any remaining distance between your two bodies and with all the energy left in you, you thrust harder, and faster, letting yourself get lost in the overwhelming feeling he provided between your legs. Now that you had experienced him once, you craved getting filled up by him, only him, as much as possible, as much as he wanted to. You wanted to be his. 

“Darling, I’m close–”

“Come, let go for me,” you breathe in his ear before licking him again. “You’re so pretty when you come inside me.”

Your last words combined with the stimulation you’ve given him trigger his collapse in your arms. He grasps your hips vigorously, pulling you flush against him, allowing him to unload himself deep inside of your womb. You fall over the edge shortly after, drinking in the feeling of his semen filling you up. You fantasized constantly about being filled to the brim by him. Used over and over again, leaking from his seed, the act merely done to defile you in his image. You clench around his length, your legs shaking as you picture yourself overflowing with his come and ride out the wave of electrifying pleasure that courses through you.

As you come down from your high and let your leg down, you reach for something to grab a hold of so as to not completely fall over. Astarion had completely slouched over the wall you fucked him over, he was not an option. The nearest thing that seemed solid enough was an empty torch holder placed right next to the door which you grab without second thoughts. The last thing you expected was for it to pull down as you grabbed it. Even less that it opened a secret trap door in the middle of the room, from which a pillar came out of. You stay in place for a moment, piecing together what just happened, with Astarion making eye contact with you, just as puzzled as you were.

Before you now stands an altar with a very clearly placed piece of dark metal, shaped strangely like the pattern you remember being described in the previous document you found. You put your trousers back on, dismissing the mess between your legs, and grab the missing piece, connecting it to the artifact you held, to see it click in place.

“No fucking way.”

Astarion smirks, as if he was responsible for your discovery, proud of himself, “Wouldn’t have found that out with Karlach now, would you?”

He will never let you live this down.

-

When you're around me, I'm radioactive

My blood is burning, radioactive

I'm turning radioactive

My blood is radioactive

My heart is nuclear

Love is all that I fear

[hd-wireless]

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 Say When

🎵 Explicit, 24,545  ❗ Warnings/Tags: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Kink Negotiation, Dom Draco Malfoy, Sub Harry Potter, Sex Work, Auror Harry Potter, BDSM Club Owner Draco Malfoy, Bondage, Spanking, Flogging, Nipple Play, Mild Cock & Ball Torture, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Praise Kink, Endearments, Kissing, Pain Slut Harry Potter, Harry realising he is indeed a kinky freak, Kneeling, Subspace, Aftercare, Good Dom Draco, The Ministry of Magic is Corrupt, Magical Theory, Angst with a Happy Ending, (Mostly) Top Draco Malfoy, (Mostly) Bottom Harry Potter, Brief Switching, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Falling In Love  🎵 Song Prompt: Undisclosed Desires by Muse

🎵 Summary: 

When Auror Harry Potter is sent in undercover to determine if Draco Malfoy is laundering money through his BDSM club, will he be able to keep up the ruse and close the case? Or, more to the point, will he keep from falling in love?

Read on AO3

[avocadoraisin]

do you have any coffinshipping songs/playlists? I'm working on a fic and I need inspo?

I SURE DO.

listen i dont have spotify or anything like that, just an mp3 playlist currently 200 songs strong, so bear with me as i meticulously link a portion of my favorites

heres a mix ranging from "almost too obvious" to "a slight stretch but I see the vibe" in no particular order

The Used - The Bird and the Worm

Scissor Sisters - I Can't Decide

I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME - Mx Sinister

Muse - Dead Inside

Air Traffic Controller - This Is Love

My Chemical Romance - Dead!

Rat City - Bad

The White Buffalo - Oh Darlin' What Have I Done

Three Days Grace - I Hate Everything About You

Britney Spears - Criminal

Good With Grenades - Bruises and Bitemarks

Rise Against - Savior

Son of Rust - Welcome to Chaos

Andrew WK - Ready to Die

InnerPartySystem - Don't Stop

Finger Eleven - Paralyzer

Porcelain and the Tramps - King of the World

The Ready Set - Killer

Son Lux - Tear, Part 1

Sofi Tukker - Batshit

Bastille - Nocturnal Creatures

Freddie Mercury - Mr Bad Guy

Bjork - Hunter

Counting Crows - Accidentally in Love

BoA - Eat You Up

Anberlin - Feel Good Drag

Muse - Time is Running Out

Bastille - Blame

Miike Snow - Gengis Khan

Lenka - Trouble is a Friend

IAMX - Bernadette

Royal Blood - Trouble's Coming

Roisin Murphey - Ramalama Bang Bang

Muse - Undisclosed Desires

ok imma end it here or ill be here all day. hope u like at least one! haha

in the comments feel free to recommend more 👇

[infiniteeight8]

Has there been any ironstrange the aliens made them do it?

I took this as a prompt, so there is a ficlet under the cut below, but just in case, yes, there are several full length fics of this nature!

Researching Human Mating Rituals by hitokiridarkempress (Outsider POV, which is the alien and thus an unreliable narrator)

Only a Matter of Time by tisfan (My personal favorite of these)

Undisclosed Desires by mokiwrites **Note that the sex in this one is particularly rough. Mind the tags.

There are probably others, but those are the ones I was able to find most easily.

And now the ficlet, under the cut for obvious reasons and also for length.

-

Tony waits, naked and utterly stone faced, while Stephen speaks with their captors. As grateful as he is that magic is able to bridge the communication gap, inventing a universal translator has just moved up his priority list a few steps. He doesn’t care how many linguists tell him it’s impossible; surely a specialized AI can be constructed that can do the job. He does not appreciate being left out of this conversation. 

Finally, Stephen turns to Tony with a grimace. “They’re scientists studying alien mating rituals.”

“It was that or porn producers,” Tony says dryly. His and Stephen’s nakedness, the large bed, and the porn still playing on the monitors made that much clear. “They do realize that we’re both male, right?”

Stephen nods. “Yes, but they make a distinction between mating and breeding. Gender is no barrier in mating studies.” 

Well, there goes that easy out. “And it doesn’t matter to them that we don’t want to have sex?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Stephen sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “As far as I can determine, their culture quite literally doesn’t have the concept of consent. I spent almost that entire conversation trying to explain it to them, but I know nothing of their culture, which means I have no reference points to give them—and that’s assuming they have any relevant reference points.”

“Well, fuck. What are our options then?”

“We can continue attempting to explain consent,” Stephen says, “with the knowledge that even if we get through to them, they may then simply switch to attempting to obtain our consent. At which point we’d have to get into the concept of duress.” Tony grimaces. Not promising. “We can fight our way out. Or we can have sex.”

Tony raises his eyebrows. “Give them what they want?”

Stephen shrugs. “It’s an option.”

“What are the chances a fight doesn’t result in casualties?” Tony asks. The only weapon they have is Stephen’s magic, but Tony’s hopeful he can repurpose something of the aliens’ tech for himself.

“To us? High,” Stephen says. “To them? Practically nil, not least because we know nothing about their anatomy.”

Damn it. Tony isn’t fond of the idea of killing a bunch of aliens who don’t even understand what they’ve done wrong. “Do you have a preference?”

Stephen gives him a long look. “Of the options available, I’d prefer the sex,” he says finally.

“Yeah,” Tony sighs. Part of him is disappointed. If Stephen had wanted to fight, Tony could have talked himself into it. But he’s not surprised; Stephen has a deeply ingrained respect for life. “All right, fine. Tell them to turn off the porn, turn the lighting down by about 40%, and provide a safe lubricant. No in person observation. Also, if they tell anyone of any species what happened here, it will be a major incident between our people.”

The ensuing alien chatter goes on for much longer and contains much more back and forth than Tony expected. If those simple requests are a problem, Tony is going to revisit the fight option.

Finally the aliens leave. “What was all of that?” Tony asks when they’re gone.

“They’re scientists,” Stephen says. “They wanted to know why these were requirements.”

“Great.” 

It takes less than ten minutes for all Tony’s conditions to be met, which leaves him and Stephen standing naked next to a giant bed. The tube of lubricant sits on the bed. Despite the gentler lighting, it’s one of the least sexy moments of Tony’s life. He sighs. “So. How—”

He’s cut off by Stephen’s mouth on his, scarred hands cradling his face. The kiss doesn’t feel forced or businesslike. It’s hot, and wet, and it makes it miles easier for Tony to respond, to put his arms around Stephen and pull him close. The sudden press of miles of skin against his is a momentary shock: Tony had briefly forgotten they were naked. He gets with the program fast, though, running his hands over Stephen’s body and making silent note of the spots that make him shiver even as the kiss continues.

Eventually Tony pulls away. Stephen is flushed, eyes bright. Tony takes his hand, gently, and draws him up onto the bed. There are no covers, of course. They’d interfere with observation. But the bed itself is soft and comfortable. Tony rolls Stephen under him, catching his eye quickly to make sure that’s okay. Stephen smiles and pulls Tony into another kiss, and that’s good, that’s a relief. Usually he’s happy either way, but in these circumstances, he’d really rather top.

Diving into the kiss, Tony does his best to put the circumstances out of his mind. Stephen is making some lovely noises in the back of his throat, and he’s spread his legs to let Tony settle between them, and he’s hard now. 

Tony settles in for a slow grind, because he’s not about to let any bed partner of his leave disappointed. Perfunctory is not in his repertoire. Though really, he thinks he might enjoy it even more than Stephen, because the sorcerer is reduced to desperate squirming and impatient moans of, “Please, Tony,” in surprisingly short order. Tony makes him squirm a little more, just for the pleasure of seeing Stephen so totally undone, flushed and sweat sheened and wired with arousal. He’s gorgeous. 

“All right,” Tony surrenders eventually, and coats his fingers with the lube. It’s good stuff, and the first finger slides into Stephen easily, drawing a deep moan from him. “That’s it,” Tony says quietly. “Just relax and open up for me, beautiful. It’s going to be so good, I promise. I’m going to fill you up, and you’re going to squeeze me real nice, aren’t you?” Stephen whimpers, hips lifting into the thrust of Tony’s fingers. Tony works him open steadily, murmuring in his ear all the while.

“I’m ready, Tony,” Stephen gasps eventually. 

The temptation to tease him is huge, but Tony wants him wrapped around his cock even more, so he obliges, lining himself up and slowly sinking his slick cock into Stephen’s hole. Somehow, he feels even hotter around Tony’s cock than around his fingers. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” Tony says.

Stephen laughs breathlessly. “Isn’t that my line?”

Tony grins. “Both is good.” 

And God, it is good. By the time he’s buried to the root he’s breathless from the clutch of Stephen’s body and has to take a moment to catch his breath. Stephen’s holding onto him, now, hands hardly trembling at all with the tightness of his grip and that’ll probably hurt later, but he doesn’t seem to care now, eyes wide and dark with pleasure.

It only gets better when Tony starts moving, ecstasy pulsing up his spine, hips snapping forward in a rhythm that comes from somewhere deep inside. He plunges his cock into Stephen again and again, and he might have tried to draw it out except for how hungry Stephen seems for it, urging him on and on, faster and harder. 

Tony finds his gaze fixed on Stephen’s, absolutely captivated by the need there, the urgency. The moment when Stephen throws his head back and breaks, crying out as his orgasm tears through him, etches itself into Tony’s memory. He’s incredibly, absolutely glorious. Stephen goes slack in the aftermath, body open and receptive, but he doesn’t stop Tony’s desperate thrusts. Instead he welcomes them, and when Tony comes he buries his face in the curve of Stephen’s throat as he shudders through his climax.

They have a few minutes together, but the moment Tony’s cock softens enough to sleep free of Stephen, the aliens are back in the room. Tony lifts his head and gives Stephen a wry look. “Not big believers in afterglow, I guess,” he says dryly.

Stephen laughs. “I guess not. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He slides out from under Tony, the translation spell already blooming, but first… first he gives Tony a quick kiss.

[4humankind]

In many fics Charles' ability to "soft control" people is described by planting an idea in their heads. For example to make them stay put he just vaguely shoves their train of thought into a "I wanna stay seated here, I have no desire to get up anyway" kinda direction, without directly ordering it or manifesting it in their brain. I've not read the comics yet and am not sure about the expanse of his powers in this regard.

Nonetheless, @no-te-lo-voy-a-dar and I came to the conclusion that ADHD paralysis is just Charles hinting at you to not Do Things™. Not exactly an order, just the idea planted in your head to not do it and you're just going with it, unable to break the spell.

Gotta get out of bed to Do Things™? Sorry, Darling, not yet, scroll your phone a bit more.

There's a deadline coming closer and closer but you can't finish The Thing™? My bad, not gonna happen until literally the night before and you will be stressed and regretful.

Dishes, laundry and other tasks are waiting for you to be completed? Maybe try again later. Until then - how about you stare at the wall for an undisclosed timeframe?

We blamed Morpheus for weird dreams we'd get, we might as well start blaming Charles for keeping us in bed and not for Fun Things™

[highvoltagez]

UNDISCLOSED DESIRES — A JAY X BIZARRO! JAY FIC . . (SFW)

LINK TO THE FIC !! SUMMARY BELOW

Jay definitely wasn’t the first person someone would go to if they needed medical attention.

Which is why he definitely didn’t expect that when he walked into his room after a long day of training, Volt would be sitting on his bed, looking worse for wear.

or

Jay patches up Bizarro Jay.