#i carry this house every damn year!

[ceciliatllis]

the writing in this episode was horrendous lol

[harrysfolklore]

30th birthday

i just can’t believe harry is 30 and this is my way to cope, i hope you like this 🥲

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The calendar marked February 1st as the date, which meant that it was finally Harry's 30th birthday.

You woke up earlier than him, in order to make him his special birthday breakfast that was a tradition by now, and as you stood alone in the cooking in the kitchen, you couldn't help but reminisce about all the previous birthdays you've celebrated with Harry.

From celebrating his birthday at a restaurant with his brand new band mates and friends after a day of The X Factor rehearsals, having big parties thrown for him with celebrities in attendance, flying off to Japan to celebrate there and throwing a concert to spend his special day with his fans, you couldn't believe Harry was turning 30 and you were able to grow up by his side.

"Love, where are you?" his raspy morning voice made its way to your ears, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Over here, in the kitchen!"

You turned around to see Harry stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His hair was tousled, and he was wearing an oversized t-shirt that you recognized as one of your favorites.

"Morning, birthday boy," you greeted him, leaning in to give him a soft kiss.

"Morning," he replied, his eyes still half-closed. "What's all this?" Harry gestured towards the spread of pancakes, eggs, and bacon you had prepared on the table.

"It's your special birthday breakfast, as always," you pecked his lips again.

"You know, you could've woken me up with a 30 minute long blowj-"

"Harry!" you cut him off before he could finish his sentence, "Every single year, you say the same thing! When will you stop being a menace."

"Can you blame me?" Harry shrugged, "You still look as hot as you did when we first met fourteen years ago."

"Fourteen, huh?" you said, tilting your head, "How does it feel to not be a twenty something anymore? You're basically an old man now."

"I feel good, honestly," he said sincerely, his eyes locking with yours, "I mean, I'm happy and healthy, I have the job of my dreams, a family that loves me, supporting friends and the best girlfriend in the world, I'm a very lucky old man."

"You're too cute," you kissed him again, "Now eat your breakfast, we have a lot of celebrations to do today."

The day went by smoothly, Harry answered a couple of calls and texts from friends and family and you spent the afternoon cuddling up before it was time for his birthday dinner.

Harry wanted something small and intimate, with just a handful of close friends and family invited, so you decided to host the birthday dinner at your home. As the evening approached, the house was filled with the delicious aroma of the special dinner you had prepared for him.

Jeff and Glenne were the first ones to arrive, carrying a homemade cake that Glenne insisted she had baked all morning. Sarah and Mitch came next with their baby boy who giggled and clapped as Harry made silly faces, clearly enjoying the attention from the famous Cool Harry, because he refused to be called uncle.

"Damn mate, I can't believe you're 30 now," Jeff said, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders, "I still remember when you were twenty and my parents basically adopted you, I feel so old."

"You feel old? Imagine how I feel, that's my baby brother!" Gemma chimed in, entering your house with her boyfriend Michal and Anne, "Happy birthday, H."

"Thanks, Gem," Harry smiled, hugging his sister tightly. "And thanks for reminding everyone that I'm officially old now."

As more friends and family arrived, the laughter and chatter of loved ones filled the air, the dining table was adorned with candles, flowers, and a beautifully set dinner that everyone enjoyed.

Once your bellies were full, Mitch opened the champagne bottle Harry Lambert brought with him, filling everyone's glasses to make a toast.

"Alright, everyone, gather around," Mitch announced, holding up his glass, "To Harry, on his 30th birthday, may this year be filled with even more success and love. Cheers."

Everyone clicked their glasses, smiles on everyone's faces.

"I think the missus should give a speech!" Gemma teased, pointing at you.

"Not a missus yet, still no ring," you teased back, raising an eyebrow at Harry and hearing the whistles from his friends.

"Well, uh, maybe we'll have to do something about that soon." Harry chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.

The room erupted in laughter and even more whistles, and you couldn't help but blush and roll your eyes with affection.

"Alright, alright," you began, holding up your glass, "Here's to the man of the hour. Harry, you've filled my life with so much joy, laughter, and love all these years. It's been an incredible journey growing up with you, I still remember when we were just kids, celebrating your 16th birthday before you became the star that you are today, I'm so proud of you and living life by your side has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Happy 30th birthday, my love. May this year bring you everything you desire."

Harry couldn't help but melt at your words, standing up and hugging you tightly and kissing your lips.

"Thank you, everyone," Harry began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia, "I can't believe I'm standing here, celebrating my 30th birthday. It feels like just yesterday I was a wide-eyed 16-year-old auditioning for The X Factor, not knowing what life had in store for me," he paused, glancing at each person in the room with watery eyes, "But here I am, and I couldn't be more grateful for each and every one of you. To my family, who has been there from the start, and to my friends who have become family. And to this incredible woman right here," Harry said, placing his hand on your waist, "who has been with me since I was I was an annoying teenager, growing up by my side."

"You're still as annoying as a teenager," Jeff interrupted him, making the entire room laugh, "But we love you, mate. And we're grateful for you."

As the night continued, the homemade cake adorned with candles was brought out, and everyone in the room sag "Happy Birthday" together, Harry made a wish and blew out the candles, surrounded by the people he loved the most.

After the cake-cutting and more chatter, everyone decided to call it a night and head home, leaving you and Harry at me comfort of your house.

"Thank you for everything," Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

"It's your day, love. I'm just happy I could make it special for you," you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.

"You always make every day special," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You stood wrapped around each other for a few minutes, enjoying the final moments of his birthday.

"This has been one of my favorite birthdays ever," Harry admitted, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I'm glad you think so," you smiled, snuggling closer. "And, by the way, the 'no ring yet' comment earlier, totally just teasing."

"Oh, really? Because I was serious, maybe it's time," Harry smirked, giving you a playful look.

"Don't tell me you're about to propose, not on your own birthday, Harry!" you said nervously.

"Not right now love, but soon enough," he winked and you let out the breath you were holding, "I love you."

"I love you more, Harry. Happy birthday."

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation

Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!

Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3

The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.

With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.

Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess

You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki

Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.

The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.

You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!

The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.

“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.

When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.

“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.

When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.

Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.

“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.

“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.

You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.

“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”

“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.

Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.

Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.

A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.

“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.

“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.

Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.

“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.

“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.

“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.

“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”

[call-memissbrightside]

As a single parent, you worked overtime to make sure your son had a great Christmas… toys, clothes, all a good mixture of needs and wants.

The warm mug of much needed coffee was cuffed in your hand as you pretended to be at awe of all the presents Katsuma unwrapped.

His excitement made up for being woken up so early, a sleepy smile on your face as you watched Katsuma thank you over and over again for all the things you got him.

Christmas was usually a quiet thing in your household, Katsuma would unwrap all his presents, you’d unwrap whatever craft he made you in class, then the two of you would cuddle on the couch to watch Christmas cartoons. Katsuma would fall back asleep tucked into your side, and Christmas would be over.

Yet—

You hadn’t thought of what Christmas would be now that Katsuma had his father in his life.

A text from Katsuki in the early morning hours explained how he’d be a bit late coming over, something about a bank heist?

Right when Katsuma opened his last present did the doorbell ring, both of you perking up.

“It’s Daddy!” Katsuma’s excitement spiked, and he tumbled over all his toys and wrapping paper scattered across the floor to open the door.

“Ho ho ho brat!” Katsuki’s voice boomed, heavy boots from his hero costume mimicking the jolly man’s costume.

You explained to Katsuki that he shouldn’t go overboard with presents, Katsuma really didn’t need a swimming pool nor an electric car because he was just five, so you really thought he’d simmer it down when it came to gifting presents.

You were dead wrong.

“It’s a puppy!” Katsuma jumped around as his father carried in a small puppy in his arms, you noted how he must of just came back from a mission due to the fact that he had scratches and a rising bruise forming on his face. Nonetheless, your ex looked just as happy, carefully handing over the pup to Katsuma.

“A dog?” You were going to kill him.

Katsuma begged for a dog or any pet every year, but you just couldn’t do it. You worked all the time and lived in an apartment, plus all the responsibility would fall to you because Katsuma was five.

Katsuki had his famous smirk on his face, red eyes taking in your disbelief.

“Yea,” he said nonchalantly. “It’ll live with me, but can come visit when I come over.”

Relief made you fall back against your couch, visions of chasing around a teething puppy evaporating as quick as they formed.

Katsuma forgot all his other presents, now all his attention was on the small puppy.

“Mommy hold it!” He shoved the poor puppy in your lap.

Sensing you weren’t as excited as Katsuma, it curled up in your lap and fell asleep once you started petting his head as your son quickly excused himself to go, quote, “take a leak!”

Laughing, you looked at Katsuki. “You’re rubbing off on him.”

Katsuki snickered, collapsing next to you on the couch, clearly tired but still reached out to stroke the puppy on its head.

“Damn right, he’s my kid.” Katsuki smiled.

He truthfully hadn’t been this excited for Christmas in years, and seeing his sons reaction to his present made up for the fact that he had to fight off some lousy villains in the morning.

“A puppy? You trying to make me look bad?” You joked, still in disbelief that Katsuki ‘won’ Christmas. Not that it mattered, but you knew when Katsuma was asked what he got for the holiday, he’ll bring up the puppy rather then all the other toys you got him.

Katsuki tipped his head back to laugh.

“It’s my first Christmas with him,” he shrugged. “I wanted it to be memorable.”

Katsuki took something out of his pants, before handing you a small box.

“Oh Katsuki, you didn’t have to—,” you were quickly cut off.

“Just open it woman, sheez,” katsuki rolled his eyes.

Opening the box, you gasped, inside was a beautiful necklace with Katsuma’s birthstone and a small ‘k’ dangling next to it.

“So you’ll always have him with you, even when the brats at my house playing with my awesome present.” Katsuki knocked your shoulder with his.

You were touched by the sentiment, and the necklace was beautiful. It was thoughtful, and sweet, but you had something up your sleeve.

“Box on the left, it’s yours.”

Katsuki groaned as he got up to retrieve it, but returned to sitting next to you.

“Katsuma? Are you okay?” You called out to your little boy, slightly worried he was taking some time in the bathroom.

“I’s okay mommy!” His little voice called out. “I got a big dump!”

You and Katsuki both laugh, and the hero opens up his present.

It was a photo album of Katsuma over the years, you smiled fondly of all the photos you remember taking of your baby as Katsuki looked at every page. The last four pages had recent pictures of Katsuki with his son, some sly photos you took when they were together.

“I’m always going to be sorry I held Katsuma from you when he was born,” you explained, the similar guilt weighing heavily on your chest. “But,” you jutted your chin to the photo of Katsuki helping Katsuma ride his bike, “I hope we can make more memories together.”

Katsuki was silent. You worried for a moment you did something wrong when he didn’t say anything. Then—

The puppy barked unhappily from being startled when Katsuki hugged you tightly to his chest.

“Thank you,” he mumbled against your forehead. “This is the best present ever.”

You smiled, eyes becoming teary.

“I guess I ultimately won Christmas,” you teased.

Katsuki barked out a laugh, letting you go and petting the puppy again lazily, flipping through the pages again of the scrap book.

“I guess I can live with taking second place.”

[astrobydalia]

Your present... Relationship observations pt. IV

I know you guys love these so here's more! As always, enjoy and happy holidays!

work by astrobydalia

long post!

A common thing I've seen in the charts of people who are firmly monogamous is moon-mercury aspects (this is not the only indicator ofc). Their decisions and interests are guided by what they feel so once they set their heart on someone... that's it for them

A very interesting lesson that I took from doing so many synastry/composite readings is that the "like attracts like" trope is WAY more powerful than the "opposites attract" trope. Here are some of the most common similarities I've spotted:

couples sharing the same ASC (this one is SO common)

Very similar aspects to the moon: I’ve noticed many couples have each of their moons aspecting the same planets, specially, outer planets, usually in similar (sometimes even the same) aspects. For example person A has Moon Square Pluto and person B has moon opposite Pluto (both harsh aspects)

A common thing I've seen in many couples synastry is Venus square Venus aspect

On the other hand I’ve noticed that flings or really passionate relationships tend to have Moon square moon in synastry

Moon sextile Moon relationships are so perfect imo. They have the easy understanding of the trine and the passion of the square/opposition

I’ve seen a lot of unrequited love situations have Venus square/opposite Moon. The moon person is attached to and idolizes the Venus person. The Venus person enjoys moon’s company but they aren’t that romantically involved or interested

Earth Moons are very fond of stability what is known to them but they secretly want someone who takes them out of their comfort zone and opens them up to deep and exciting emotional experiences. I've noticed they usually end up with partners who are more sensitive, expressive and spontaneous

I’ve noticed Venus-Pluto natives (square, opposition, conjunction) end up building some kind of resentment towards their long-term partners overtime and won’t let them go. The type to spend years married to some they secretly hate and also the type of person who demonizes every single one of their exes. It’s like they tend to attract relationships that wake up a dark side in them

Something I keep seeing over and over is that Cancer placements are playerssssss (both men and women). They will treat you like you’re “the one” but that doesn’t necessarily mean they have an actual intention to settle with you😭 they're just getting carried away by what they feel in moment so I guess they are unintentional players???

Leo and Libra placements on the other hand are intentional players imo. They love the romance and chasing just for the validation it gives them

In order to keep a Cardinal Venus/Moon interested you need to keep showing up like your relationship is brand new. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve be together or how comfortable you are with each other, they want their partner to still make an effort to impress and romance them like it’s the first date and they're bound to do the same

Women with Libra Mars I've noticed tend to attract mamas boys or child-like men with mommy issues. These women are always the dominant or mature ones in their relationships

Capricorn Mars women are dominant too and have a strong character but they chase men who are equally as independent as them if not more

Something I’ve noticed with Pisces/Neptune 7th house (and also Pisces Venus/Juno to an extent) is that yeah they put their partner on a pedestal but they also low-key tend to take their partner for granted? I’ve noticed they expect their partner to be indulgent, permissive and basically tolerate their bs. Little is talked about how their tendency to ignore red flags goes both ways; they want their partner to ignore their red flags too and forgive all their behaviors

What is up with Aquarius and Pisces placements attracting each other all the damn time?

Water Venus/Mars win the award for most obsessive lovers out there

I’ve seen a lot of people with Mars in the 7th house who were divorced or never married. One friend of mine who has this placement says she doesn’t want to marry at all or have a relationship cause she’s too independent

Women with fixed Mars are attracted to men who have rough or bold characteristics such as beard, tattoos, toned body, deep voice, etc. or just a very bold presence in general. They also have a thing for men who have a very confident, understated and nonchalant demeanor/personality to them

Women with mutable Mars and their attraction to flighty and chaotic men who don’t give them the time of day. I’ve seen this countless times 😭😭😭

I've seen harmonious aspects between Mars-Moon in people that work very well together! This aspect typically means fertility which in a work environment translates into a fruitful relationship. The two people wanting to create/initiate things together with lots of motivation

Who came up with the idea that Aries Moon/Venus are disloyal and flighty? All I keep seeing irl is these natives tend to have a strong attachment to their partners. Once they're in your corner they won't ever let you go fr. They could have a tendency to get attached to the wrong people tho

I’ve seen many many couples having 7th house Mars in synastry but this overlay is super chaotic imo, creates a back and forth dynamic that ends nowhere. The house person is the chaser here, they are always pushing commitment on the Mars person cause they don’t want the mars person to “slip away” or something. The mars person enjoys the eagerness of the house person and finds it very attractive and could enjoy challenging the house person’s interest. Eventually if the mars person isn’t that interested they get bored and are often the first ones to walk away

A very similar outcome I've seen happens with 7th house Mars in Composite. This could make the bond between the two a bit "forced" and dragged out. This also means the connection will really be put to the test, you guys may have to fight for your connection a lot which can either bond you more or exhaust you, could eventually become tired of the relationship and how much energy it takes to keep it alive.

I have a theory that your preferred house overlays could be indicated by your Venus/7th house/Juno. For example if you have Leo Venus you might enjoy 5th house synastry, if you have Neptune or Pisces in the 7th house you might feel comfortable with 12th house synastry, etc. Let me know what you think about this

I’ve noticed that 8th house synastry results in a lot of physical touch going on so people who have this as their love language might be specially fond of this overlay. This is the couple that literally can’t keep their hands off each other

Scorpio Moons 🤝 sabotaging the few healthy relationships they have in their life. They eventually learn to keep the right people after really going through it tho

With 7th house synastry you can really feel like something's missing when you don't have that person around.

When moon falls in fire houses in synastry the two people are always excited to see each other

Moon in 1st house in synastry is the only 1st house overlay that is not superficial. The connection is usually very genuine while it lasts. This person likely sparks a lot of nostalgia and you remember them fondly

When someone’s personal planets fall in your 4th house, you feel like this person can see you for who you truly are deep down

Gemini Venus/Juno/7th house: the people they date tend to have almost identical characteristic, there's always this blatant "twin" factor in the people they date or attract. For example all their exes worked in the same industry, have the exact same personality, etc

Venus Observations...

Libra Venus has the rep for being big flirts and charmers but this is actually a Cardinal Venus thing tbh cause, as I've said in a past post, they love the chase, they just all do it in different ways

It's true Virgo Venus are picky but this doesn't necessarily mean they have high standards. Yes, stay with me here. These natives have a very clear series of characteristics they want a partner to meet and that's how they are picky/critical (earth) but if those boxes are checked, they don't care much about anything else (mutable) and can be quite flexible. They don’t really care if their partner is not the most sought after person

In contrast, Capricorn Venus are picky AND have high standards. They want the best of the best, the perfect partner

Virgo Venus wants a partner that doesn’t need validation however they want their partner to validate them all the time

Aquarius Venus will only commit if they see a future with that person. Not only they are ruled by Saturn (which rules longevity) but they are also ruled by Uranus which rules innovation, Aquarius is the visionary of the zodiac so Aquarius Venus people need to feel like their partner will help them evolve or "upgrade" as a person in some way (not in a materialistic way like Capricorn but rather mentally). That's why they are attracted to people who are "different", intelligent or eccentric

The reason why Aquarius Venus is "flighty" as per my observation is because they tend to go for partners who are radically different from them and as a result they often stumble upon many incompatible partners

Leo Venus is very underrated when it comes to acts of service, I’ve noticed this is a very common love language for them

In my experience Pisces Venus natives are SO deceitful and immature. I'm sorry I really wanted to like this placement but they always make me cringe and are only cute on the surface imo. The type to lead everyone on by saying things they don’t mean and exaggerating compliments. They’re very passive in love and romanticize bare minimum. This means they don't expect their partner to take accountability but the native never takes accountability themselves either. They ignore issues in relationships and instead of working things through they expect everything to be fixed with lovebombing and/or pretending like nothing happened. Men with this placement tend to be emotionally unavailable and always want to date a doormat girl. Women with this placement are childish and tend to have princess complex

The only Venus sign that doesn't care much about looks from what I've seen is Scorpio Venus. They care more about the bond and chemistry over their partner fitting a certain type.

Also, what is up with Scorpio Venus and dating people they don’t actually like that much or at all? 🤨 They be dating people that low-key annoy them

Libra, Leo, Capricorn and Taurus Venus very much care about looks in a partner. Taurus/Capricorn Venus natives I've noticed pay special attention to how a potential partner dresses and grooms themselves

All Fixed Venus natives are pretty obsessive to honest, it's not just Scorpio. I've noticed they like the idea of having some sort hold or control over their partner. Their love language is making themselves indispensable in some way cause they enjoy feeling like they're partner will always need them and won't get away from them

Men with Pisces/Libra/Cancer/Taurus Venus have a thing for women who are people pleasers or stereotypically feminine and charming. They like it when a woman is kind, gentle, understanding, accommodating, etc

Men with Fire Venus are attracted to confident and independent women who have this it girl vibe to them

Something else I’ve noticed with Fixed Venus natives is that they have a thing for partners that have a mysterious or reserved vibe to them. Not necessarily introverted, but people who protect their privacy or keep to themselves a lot.

Mutable Venus fall for partners that have this very open and outgoing vibe to them. Again, not necessarily extroverted, but people who have a more bubbly personality

Cardinal Venus natives will only fall in love with someone who they deeply admire. They commit to people who have this put together/respectable vibe to them

Juno Observations...

I've actually observed Juno synastry is very significant in business relationships not just romantic ones. In fact, those married couple I've seen with heavy Juno synastry also tended to be involved in business together

Sagittarius Juno I've seen manifests mostly as the native getting a spouse that is very permissive and gives them a lot of freedom, a spouse that never says no to anything. This placement overall gives a very respectful and supportive spouse. However because of this the Sag Juno native will have a tendency to cross boundaries in the marriage and take their spouse for granted

In general both Sagittarius and Pisces Juno have a tendency to "abandon" their spouses either physically or emotionally and kinda forget about them from time to time. This doesn't necessarily have to mean disloyalty tho.

Sag Juno natives want to feel like they have the freedom to go and do their own thing, like they'll leave for days or weeks on end and their spouse won't mind and will indeed support the native. They don’t like to feel like marriage hinders their desire to live freely but rather encourages it. Side note: I have seen some cases in which Sag Juno natives actually did abandon their spouses/families either for another partner or because they were perusing better opportunities

Pisces Juno natives will give a more sacrificial energy kinda like "babe I love you but I have to go, I'm sorry". There's something that stops the native from actually being there for their spouse, but this placement indicates the spouse is bound to be very forgiving because they'll see is not your fault in a way

Cancer/Capricorn Juno is an indicator of having a marriage with traditional gender roles or traditional values.

I’ve noticed Scorpio Juno natives or Scorpio ASC in the Juno PC have a marriage that REALLY rubs people the wrong way. Others could see your relationship as toxic or even predatory in nature. People believe that you landed your spouse (or vice versa) through manipulation, abuse, deceit, stalking, controlling behavior, etc. This placement also means you met when either of you were going through a hard time so there could be some case of trauma bonding here

I’ve seen that soulmate relationships tend have their Junos in the same element (most common case). Honorary mentions: Juno in opposite signs or signs ruled by the same planet

Leo Juno natives are a bit flighty and afraid of commitment. They just want a partner for the sake of the romance and feeling spoiled. They want the relationship to stay fun and playful and really dislike the sense of seriousness and "settlement" that can come with marriage sometimes

With Juno in the 7th house either you or your spouse will be in a relationship when you meet

When looking at the Juno PC, Capricorn placements/Saturn in the angels/Saturn conjunct inner planets indicates long-lasting marriage

Fixed Juno natives will have a spouse that is completely fascinated and obsessed with them. You want your spouse to worship you specially with Leo and Taurus Juno. The way your spouse will love you will boost your ego thus acting more confidently after marriage. The energy of the marriage could be a little overbearing or suffocating depending on other aspects

I've observed this in virtually all cases with Virgo Juno have a tendency to attract very inconsiderate partners that make them feel like they're not good enough (the opposite can be true). They had unsuccessful first marriage that drained the shit out of them but they eventually find someone who is very modest and nurturing

Cancer/4th house Juno natives have a VERY hard time moving on from their exes if they ever saw that person as marriage material.

From what I've seen Capricorn Juno doesn't create that much of a delay or age gap in marriage. It can of course, but in most cases these natives marry in their late 20s to their first serious bf/gf and they usually have an age difference of 2-5 years approximately. This placements I’ve seen manifests mostly as “I married my high school/collage sweetheart and we’ve been together forever” kinda scenario OR marrying someone from your past you reconnect with later in life

Scorpio, Pisces, Capricorn and Aquarius Juno indicates you'll marry your soulmate or your relationship with your fs is karmic or from a past life. You might meet your spouse after fulfilling some karmic lesson or some life milestone

Cardinal Juno/Juno in the angles tend to be very proud of their spouses or being married in general. Could be the type to be very invested in finding a life partner cause they tend to turn marriage into a very essential part of their lives and themselves

work by astrobydalia

[slytherinslut0]

hey can you please do tom x hufflepuff reader hcs??

Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader headcanons.

(A/N: idk how this ended up being so long. i got carried away. i love tom. i love his complexity. i could write about him forever. anyways, enjoy:))

tom riddle and a hufflepuff reader would be damn near polar opposites, and there are a few reasons why i say this->

tom is a very reserved man, yet undoubtedly driven by an ambitious and power-hungry nature, always seeking dominance and control in every aspect of his life.

hufflepuffs, on the other hand, are known for their kindness, their loyalty, prioritizing the well-being of others over personal ambition.

tom riddle is the type of man who is not afraid to deceive others for personal gain, while hufflepuffs value fairness and honesty in each of their interactions.

not to mention how tom is emotionally restrained, rarely displaying vulnerability or empathy, while hufflepuffs are known for being emotionally open and expressing genuine care/understanding for others.

i believe tom would be rather annoyed by hufflepuffs, perhaps even put off by their loud, outgoing nature, but i also feel as though he would respect them more than other houses because they are known for being more by-the-book.

i believe this pairing would be WONDERFUL for him, and i’d imagine it’d go a little like this->

perhaps you and tom would be involuntarily paired up for an assignment, an unlikely collaboration that tom figured would be an easy mark for him.

originally, he’d find himself irritated by your constant cheerful and optimistic nature; finding it rather absurd that you weren’t at all fazed by his cold, cunning attitude.

there’d definitely be initial clashes between the two of you, disagreements of methods, but tom would find himself stunned as you met every one of his suggestions with a positive, passionate attitude, not daring to get discouraged or frustrated with him.

your unwavering optimism would be shocking to him. especially in the face of his calculated cynicism. it’d be then, that tom would be astonished by your dedication and genuine passion for learning, a rare quality to obtain.

his initial cold, guarded demeanour would slowly begin to fade.

tom would find himself beginning to pay more attention to you, his curiosity extending to outside the confines of the classroom.

he’d begin to wonder if your genuine kindness is truly authentic or merely a manipulation tactic, leading him to question the sincerity of your character.

which he’d only question because that’s the way his mind works.

he’d never known someone so open and genuine like you. he’d convince himself you had ulterior motives.

however, tom would quickly observe that your authenticity extended universally, and was not just directed at him.

your small acts of kindness and interactions with strangers became evident, and he’d witness your unwavering positivity even in the most challenging situations.

he’d notice how thoughtful you are, how you’d spend your free time maintaining the Owlery, ensuring it’s well-kept and sanitary.

he’d watch you from a distance as you continually brought the owls food and water, giving them attention and love which was something you did upon your own accord, without expecting any compensation.

it became clear to him that you did these things because you genuinely loved to do them, not because you wanted praise for it. and at this, tom was completely taken aback.

your radiant smile, capable of lighting up any room, would become a revelation to him, leaving him puzzled about how he initially overlooked this aspect of your character for all those years.

it’d be here that inner turmoil would begin to brew within tom as he’d have no choice but to acknowledge your ability to see the good within everything and everyone, and especially within him. something not many people are capable of.

as time passed, you couldn't help but notice a gradual softening in him.

during your collaborative sessions on the assignment, he became more receptive to your ideas, actively seeking your thoughts.

surprisingly, he started engaging in conversations beyond the project, asking about your day and exhibiting small changes in his demeanour that were entirely new to you.

tom was breaking, his walls slowly being chipped away by your infectious smile and enthusiasm.

the unexplainable shift in his perspective both intrigued and unsettled him, as you became the catalyst for awakening emotions he never believed he could feel.

he’d try to fight back, he’d try to get himself together, but it was useless. you were in his head, and there was no getting you out.

however, given the fact that tom struggles with showing even the smallest amounts of vulnerability, he’d try to be as subtle as possible with his interest in you. hoping that you’d eventually catch on.

perhaps he’d begin with small gestures, like gifting you a book on rare and beautiful magical creatures, saying that he noticed it in the library and thought of you, believing you might like it.

it would not go unnoticed by you just how considerate this was, and just how much he’d begun to take awareness of your interests.

you found yourself engrossed in the book, a sight that never failed to bring a subtle smile to tom’s face whenever he spotted you across the hall.

observing you immersed in the pages made him quietly content, often requiring a conscious effort on his part to break himself free from the captivation.

his brain would be screaming, “what the hell am i doing?” but he wouldn’t be able to deny just how much he loved seeing you enthralled by the gift.

the feeling was intoxicating, and wholly unfamiliar; he needed more. he needed to do more.

perhaps the next move he’d make would be to gift you a rare enchanted plant, after having noted your love for herbology.

he’d present the plant to you in a subtle way, saying that he’d found it while taking a stroll through the forest and thought you’d like it.

he’d go into details about its properties, its rarity and how to effectively take care of it, even though he knew you already knew all of this.

he knew you absolutely loved the fact that he cared for these plants just as much as you did. this was all part of his plan.

and of course, at this point, you’d have the hunch that he was into you; but being as perceptive and intuitive as you are, you’d know that pestering tom or trying to force him to admit feelings would be useless.

the man moves at his own pace.

so instead, you’d invite him to join you as you cleaned the Owlery, wanting to spend more time with him. the two of you would gradually become closer and closer, tom’s harsh demeanour fading away with the wind with each passing day.

and even still, tom hardly made any advances. tom hardly wanted to put himself in a vulnerable position. he wanted to be sure you wanted him before he ever revealed his intentions.

if he was touchy with you, he’d never insinuate it was because he’s into you. he’d kiss you on the cheek after walking you back to your dorm for the night, and then act like nothing ever happened in the morning.

and this might have annoyed some, but not you.

you understood that this is how tom was, and you admired him for it. you were entirely understanding. you wanted him to open up on his own terms, and you were willing to wait for him.

eventually, tom knew he couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. he knew he needed to make you his. he knew he’d do fucking anything.

and this feeling would only multiply as he spotted you across the courtyard, speaking to a boy from your house.

your smile was glowing, your laugh was radiating, and the feeling this sight inspired inside tom’s heart could have been enough to ignite the entire castle into pure fucking flame.

whatever he was doing at this moment didn’t matter anymore, he only had one objective in mind.

making you his.

without waiting for you to finish your conversation, he’d interrupt, stating he needed to speak to you.

you’d smile, sensing his urgency, and follow him over to the far side of the courtyard, looking out at the breathtaking view of the faraway valleys and mountains.

as soon as tom was content with your seclusion, he’d cup the back of your head and crash his lips to yours, kissing you with enough fervour to make up for all the days and weeks and months he’d wished he’d have made a proper move.

pulling back, he’d meet your eyes. “i need you to be mine,” he’d whisper, as though the words scared him. “you’ve made me feel things i’ve never known possible, you’ve broken me down without effort. you are the most beautiful, genuine woman i’ve ever met, and i have been falling in love with you for months…i can’t hide it anymore, i need you…”

the words would be music to your ears, the joy unfathomable.

of course, you’d be his.

[ffsg0jo]

tw: grief, death, illness, and angst - i wrote this in like half an hour and i was really in my feels, so pls excuse me if it's bad

uncle sukuna, who's been in and out of jail, is always seemingly in trouble with the law and couldn't give two shits about it. ever since leaving home and his twin brother behind, he's only lived for himself and himself only. he'd be damned if he lets anyone change that.

he receives a voicemail from his brother one day, telling him he's had a little baby boy called yuuji. jin wants to put everything in the past behind them and would love for his brother to meet his precious son. sukuna only scoffs and deletes the voicemail almost immediately.

it's only when jin texts him a video of yuuji (who he's surprised to see almost looks exactly like him, minus all the tattoos) 8 months later babbling what could be interpreted as "papa", does he falter. the kid's adorable, but sukuna isn't ready to face his brother just yet.

many more months go by, and jin seems to have taken the hint. except he gets sent another video, this time on his birthday. he clicks on the video, unable to resist and its yuuji, wobbling on two legs, clapping his hands, and singing his own version of happy birthday (??). he's gotten so much bigger and looks so much like his father.

the only word sukuna recognises from yuujis incoherent nonsense is 'kuna', and his heart softens. he messages back a "cute." and leaves it at that. jin sees the message and doesn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

jin messages him again a week later, only this time sukuna's heart drops. kaori's dead, and her funeral's next week. he's only met her twice, but she was good for his brother, and she was always good to him too.

he sees his brother for the first time in years at the funeral. jin's hair is a mess, his face unshaven and sunken in; grief seemed to have aged him 10 more years. sukuna's many things, a bad brother included, but something in him breaks when he sees yuuji screaming in his father's arms, not understanding where his mum's gone.

he doesn't know why, but he walks up to jin and offers to take yuuji instead. the toddler immediately calms down in his hold, now more confused as to why there's a man that looks exactly like his dad but with sharpie all over him. jin breaks down, stammering out a thank you, and excuses himself, leaving sukuna alone with his nephew. he'll hunt down his brother later, but for now, he'll keep the brat occupied so his dad can grieve.

sukuna hears from his dad that jin's fallen ill months later. he's speaks to his brother more often now and has even met up with both him and yuuji a couple of times. but jin's never mentioned being sick. he's been looking worse, for sure, but he just put it down to being a single father to an energetic toddler.

he moves in with them the next week. jin keeps getting worse and even little yuuji's noticed.

sukuna tries his best. he really does. he's not been there for jin previously, but he makes sure he's there now when it matters. it's all new to him, caring for people. he tries to cook the most nutritious meals for jin, making sure they're yuuji friendly too. he makes sure the house is always clean, even though yuuji's making a mess every 10 minutes. he changes diapers (both yuuji's and jin's), bathes them both, and tucks them both into bed. he even reads yuuji a bedtime story just to maintain normacly even though he hasnt read since he was a child.

he checks up on jin, constantly seeing if he's feeling okay and gives him his medicine. he holds onto jin with the utmost care (almost carrying him) when they go to visit kaori's grave or when yuuji insists on both of them coming to the park with him. when jin can't sleep at night due to being in excruciating pain, he's there. by his side and holding him. he's never been this affectionate, but he's also never had a dying brother before.

it's still not enough, though. the last couple of days were the hardest, and even yuuji knew enough to be on his best behaviour.

sukuna silently sobs into his pillow at night, when the whole world's asleep. he's filled with regret and hatred for himself, but he knows it's too late now. he tells his brother he loves him and that he promises to take care of yuuji no matter what. jin only smiles, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and tries to kiss his cheek as a thank you, and i love you too.

jin died with one arm holding yuuji, the other holding sukuna's, and his wife's name on his tongue.

sukuna was left all alone, once again. except this time, he had no brother to give yuuji back to. as he promised jin, the stars as his witness, he'd do anything for yuuji and to keep him safe.

his life was no longer his own. he had his nephew to think about.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[memphisflash]

𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: It's been a year since you've seen Elvis - he hasn't called or reached out to you once, yet you still can't forget about him. Summer rolls around and you find yourself back in Vegas, picking right up where you left things with the singer that brings the heat to the desert every year, and you can't help but fall harder and deeper...

Word count: 6,7K

Warnings: basically a smut fest. reader losing her virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), kissing after oral, somewhat uncomfortable first time for reader (that shit hurts, hello???), they fuck multiple times- woops.

A/N: I tried to keep it short and sweet, but anyone who knows me that's a damn joke, because I always get carried away HA. I kinda hate the ending but oh well, I had to stop somewhere. Hope y'all like it!

← part one | masterlist →

A whole year had passed since that night you shared such an intimate moment with Elvis.

He had asked for your number before the two of you said goodbye but you didn’t expect to hear from him. You didn’t, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

You didn’t want to become just another foolish girl that was completely head over heels for the singer, but you couldn’t help yourself, no matter how hard you tried.

He’d been on your mind every single day for that whole year.

You listened to his records, read everything the magazines printed about him and would even watch some of his movies to hear his voice. Your boss at the local art gallery you worked at in Tucson, your hometown, even caught you daydreaming a couple of times and snapped you out of it which was highly embarrassing.

The whole thing was embarrassing, to be quite honest.

You were in love with a man who was fawned over by thousands of girls across the globe and he most likely didn’t even remember you. After all, you hadn’t been the first girl he brought up to his suite in Vegas.

You hid those feelings well for your parents though, who thought you were just infatuated by the superstar and dealt with the amount of times you played his music through the house. Your father secretly liked it – you’d heard him sing along plenty of times when he thought no one could hear him.

But your best friend Emma knew better. She was the only one who you had told what happened between you and Elvis and like the supportive, and sometimes tad overly excited, best friend she was, she made it her own personal mission to save up for another trip to Vegas the coming summer.

You picked up a few extra shifts at your job and even babysat the children in the neighborhood and before you realised it, summer was there and you and Emma made the six hour drive to sin city.

Las Vegas was as exciting as ever. With Elvis’ residency being promoted like a summer festival, Elvis fans were everywhere – walking the strip to spot him or any of his entourage members, taking up hotel rooms in the numerous accomodations in town and shopping, dining out or seeing afternoon shows by other artists to kill time.

Vegas was thriving off of the tourists and if you could, you would want to stay here for the rest of your life. Despite your innocent nature, the sinful aspect of it all drew you in.

“What if he does recognize you…” Emma retorts to your worries as you lay side by side on a tanning bed by the pool of the International hotel. You two had booked so many months in advance that you were assured a nice room in the crowded hotel. “and asks you up to the room again. This is Vegas, baby, anything can happen!”

Emma grins widely as she looks at you over the rim of her sunglasses, wiggles her eyebrows and then laughs as she pushes them back up the bridge of her nose, reaching for her margarita. You laugh with her and sigh deeply as you watch some people in the pool splash around, chattering and hollering adding a nice atmosphere to the pool area. “Oh please, Em, I bet he won’t even recognize me. He’s been to other places for the past year and God knows what kind of girls he met.”

“You’re hotter,” Emma says matter-of-factly as she puts her drink down and lays back on the sunbed, soaking up the rays of the harsh Vegas sun.

“You haven’t even seen the other girls,” you snort softly, looking at her even though her eyes were closed behind her glasses.

“I don’t need to. I’m your best friend and I’m obligated to tell you, you’re hotter. And even if I wasn’t, I would still tell you the same thing.”

You couldn’t contain the smile on your face and let it spread across your features, playfully slapping Emma’s arm. She always knew just what to say.

Ofcourse you didn’t think you were ugly, but you would always compare yourself to other girls that seemed just a little more prettier. A little skinnier, their skin a little more flawless, their clothes a little more expensive.

Emma often talked you out of it though, because she was right when she’d tell you that wasn’t the way to live your life.

You did have to admit that your confidence had grown in the past year, even if it was just a smidge. Your boss gave you more responsibilities at work which had you come into contact with customers face to face more often, which included handsome business men and rough around the edges cowboys who came in to buy an art work.

They’d flirt with you more often than not and their blatant but sweet compliments even helped you with your blushing. In a way, you’d grown used to the men in Tucson, so hopefully you’d be the same around that one man from Memphis.

If you’d even meet him again.

“Okay, let’s say he knows who I am and he invites me up to his suite again,” you said, sounding a little more light hearted. “I think I wanna have sex with him.”

“You already did, Miss Foreplay.”

“That wasn’t.. sex!” you whisper loud enough for Emma to hear above her own laughter, gasping as you chuckled. You sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the sunbed, leaning in closer to your friend so nobody else was able to hear you. “I’m serious, Em. I want to.. I want him to.. you know.”

Emma pushed her sunglasses into her hair, turning her head to look at you. She laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. “You can say it, Y/N, it ain’t some kinda disease. You want him to pop your cherry,”

The way the word ‘cherry’ rolled off her tongue so sensually it had your cheeks heating up a little, but you quickly forced the heat back down, slapping your friend’s arm once more.

This time with a little more force, which made her pout and rub her arm.

“Don’t say it like that!”

“Fine. You want him to fuck you then.”

“Emma!”

The girl next to you laughed loudly and quickly avoided you before you could assault her poor arm again. You shook your head but laughed along with her – she was impossible at times, but you loved her like a sister.

You and Emma had tickets to several shows Elvis did at the hotel. You were staying for two whole weeks and would attend a few shows during the week, and every show during the weekend.

While getting ready for the dinner show that started at 7, the phone in your hotel room rang. The sound startled you a little, hoping it wasn’t the front desk with a noise complaint because you and Emma had been playing music while getting ready – and Emma was singing along in the shower, sounding like a dying cat.

You put your curling iron down after switching it off and ran into the room from the bathroom, picking up the phone. It was the desk clerk, telling you you had an incoming call from an individual named Jon Burrows.

You didn’t know anyone by that name, but thinking it could’ve been work related, you accepted the call.

But as soon as you heard that deep voice and that Southern drawl, you realised this wasn’t Jon Burrows.

“Hi Cherry,”

Your heartbeat started picking up, resembling something of a group of wild horses gallopping.

“Elvis?” You questioned, sounding breathless and in somewhat of disbelief.

He didn’t confirm, but you knew it was him. Especially when you heard his deep, rich sounding laugh which felt like a comfortable blanket being wrapped around you.

“Now why didn’t ya tell me you’re in Vegas, honey? I called your house and your Daddy told me you were already here, comin’ to see me..”

You looked at Emma as she wandered out of the bathroom, waving your hand like a maniac to the radio that was playing. She frowned but took the hint and switched it off, walking closer to you to silently ask who you were talking to.

“Well, I’m sorry, Elvis,” Emma immediately widened her eyes and sat down next to you, pressing her ear close to the phone. “I didn’t.. I didn’t know how to reach you..”

You mentally cursed yourself for such a lame answer, but it was the truth. You didn’t have his number, and in that whole year, he never called you.

At least, not to your knowledge.

“You comin’ to see the show? How long are ya staying?”

“Me and my friend will be here for two weeks, and yes, ofcourse we’re coming to the show. We wouldn’t want to miss it.” You made sure your voice sounded extra sweet and Emma nearly toppled over when Elvis said, “That’s my girl.”

“Don’t make any plans for after the late show tonight, honey. I want you and your friend to come to a little party, okay?”

Emma looks at you and immediately nodded yes. You agreed and after talking to Elvis for a few more minutes, he hung up to get ready for the show. You put the phone down and looked at Emma, who was staring at you with wide eyes before you two squealed like two teenagers.

“Oooh, that man wants you, believe me,” Emma smirks as she gets up and turns the radio on again, dancing happily through the room while getting ready.

As always, Elvis was amazing on stage – his moves making you feel things and his vocals were superb. He recognized you in the crowd and during the moment where he wandered through the crowd and kissed girls, he made sure to press an open mouthed kiss onto your mouth, his tongue playfully flicking against your lips.

You were already on cloud nine, fantasizing about what would happen during the rest of the night when you’d have him alone. You were praying that that party wouldn’t last very long.

It turned out the party was held in the dressing room and you nearly fainted at the sight of Cary Grant greeting Elvis when you stood next to him. They talked for a short while and you couldn’t even keep up with the conversation, so many things around you were happening.

Emma was standing across the room, talking to Charlie Hodge and by the way she was squeezing his arm and throwing her head back as she laughed, you could see they were hitting it off.

Good for her – Emma had horrible taste in men, often falling for the bad boys, but Charlie Hodge seemed like a nice man. And a funny one, because you could hear your best friend’s flirtatious laughter all across the dressing room.

Elvis and you didn’t talk much one on one, as there was always someone who came up to strike a conversation with him. But he kept his arm around your waist, because he liked knowing that you were still there, close to him.

To him, it wasn’t strange at all. He acted like you’d always been there, like you belonged to him and only him.

It sent your mind spinning, or maybe that was because of the two Cosmo’s you’d already had.

The party was nice – everyone was having fun, talking to each other, enjoying each other’s company and sipping drinks. But it was like Elvis could read your mind when he looked at you and leaned in closer.

“Let’s get outta here. I want to be alone with my sweet little cherry,”

The way he whispered in your ear nearly had your knees buckling, but instead you flashed him a smile and quickly nodded. Elvis slipped his hand into yours and as he signed to Red and Sonny he wanted to leave, the four of you moving out of the room. You exchanged one more look with Emma, who grinned widely at you and blew you a kiss, mouthing a “have fun!” to you before she disappeared out of your sight.

After walking through a few long hallways and a short ride on the service elevator, you arrived at the top floor of the International and you disappeared into the suite with Elvis.

“You know, I really missed ya, honey,” Elvis smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close against his chest, making you stand on your tiptoes a little due to the height difference.

Again, you wanted to ask him why he hadn’t called if he missed you so much but you knew better than to ruin the moment.

You hugged him back, telling him you missed him too and in this moment, you felt like he truly cared about you.

Like you weren’t just a fan, or just another girl that would tend to his needs for the evening.

“Why don’t you go take a shower an’ we can relax, hmm?”

It could sound so innocent, but with what you had planned for tonight, you knew it was the beginning of something very sinful.

Elvis led you to the bathroom and handed you one of his silk pyjama button ups, this time in a shade of crimson red. Once again, he didn’t give you the bottom half of the set but you didn’t mind it, nor protest against it. As he left you alone to take a shower in the other bathroom in the suite, you locked the door behind you and turned on the shower. You washed your body, making sure to leave your hair and make-up untouched.

Thank God for Emma who hounded your ass for making sure you were trimmed nicely – your bikini line, legs and pits waxed, only a little bit of pubic hair left on your vulva.

You turned the shower off after a little bit and dried yourself off, making sure to spray some perfume in your neck that you carried in your purse and sneaked into the bathroom. You put on the button up, leaving your panties on top of your folded clothes on the sink. You quickly brushed your teeth with the spare toothbrush in the bathroom and took a deep breath before you walked back into the bedroom, smiling shyly at Elvis who was already sitting in his bed against the headboard.

His hair looked like he’d just dry-blowed it, soft and fluffy. He was wearing his own set of pyjamas in black and the tan skin that was visible due to half of his top being left unbottoned made arousal slowly creep its way to the surface.

Talking turned to cuddling, cuddling turned to kissing, and kissing turned to wandering hands creeping up your top.

You were nervous, God how nervous you were, but this time you didn’t stop him when he cupped your breasts.

A soft gasp left you when he caressed his thumbs across your perked nipples. He looked at your face to see if he was taking things too far, but as he saw the flush on your cheeks and the way you were looking at him with pleading eyes, he figured he could go on.

As long as you did not tell him to stop, he wasn’t going to.

Slowly he got on top of you, wiggling himself in between your legs which you eagerly opened and wrapped around his waist this time. He moved his hands out from underneath your top, fingertips working quick as he flicked the buttons open one by one.

“Cherry,” he spoke softly, his eyes finding yours. “Have you been touched in the past year?”

The question rolled off his tongue so casually as if you were just making conversation, but it caused goosebumps to tingle along your skin. You looked at him and shook your head slowly, unable to control the heat that was crawling up your neck, reddening your skin.

“N-No..” you whispered, feeling exposed as the fabric of your top fell open, your breasts on full display for him. “Only by myself,”

You didn’t know where you’d got the courage from to say such a thing, but it slipped out before you could stop it. Elvis smirked, his hands back to cupping your breasts, squeezing them a little firmer.

“Is that right?” he hummed lowly, keeping his eyes on your face as he leaned in closer to your chest, his soft lips connecting with the supple flesh of your right breast. “Did ya think ‘bout me when touchin’ yourself?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, his tongue poked out to swirl it around your nipple. A gasp and then a moan slipped past your lips and you gripped onto his shoulders, arching your back a little.

“Yes!” you moaned out, perhaps a little more desperate than you intended to. “Y-Yes.. Always.. thinking about.. you..”

Your words came out breathless as he sucked onto your nipple softly and he grinded against you a little. You could feel the outline of his cock pressing against your folds and you were pretty sure you were staining his silk bottoms with your arousal.

Neither he or you cared and you grinded back against him, trying to rub your clit against his length.

Elvis could see the difference between last year and now. With those flushed cheeks, he knew you were still the same girl but there was a flair of eagerness lingering about you now.

You wanted him and he sure as hell was going to enjoy taking you, stripping away your innocence completely.

Just as you were about to reach out to unbutton his shirt completely, he was already moving lower onto the bed. His lips dragged over the curve of your breasts and along your stomach, his hands sliding up the back of your thighs to spread your legs and give him the view he’s been so eager to see all night.

Your perfect exposed pussy… right there in front of his nose. So beautiful, so pink, so untouched.

He looked up at you through his dark lashes as he kissed your inner thighs, grinning against your skin when he felt your legs trembling with anticipation. He could practically smell your arousal and it had him groaning softly as he rubbed himself against the mattress slowly.

You wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth on the most intimate part of his body but he decided to take things slow. He knew you were eager but he wanted you to experience it all, and he wanted to be the one who could make you feel this good.

His fingertips caressed through your folds, spreading your slick all over your lips before he pressed his thumb against your clit, adding a little pressure. You were looking down at him the whole time, not wanting to miss a second of this sight, and he loved hearing you moan softly the way you did.

By the end of the evening, he intended to have you screaming for him.

“My Cherry’s got such a pretty pussy,” he whispered as he grinned at you before looking down at your wetness glistening against your skin. He ran his middlefinger down your folds, slowly pushing it inside of your entrance. “All for me to play with,”

You gasped and gripped onto the sheets, your muscles immediately tensing up around his digit. He let out a soft laugh as he pulled his finger back before sinking it into you completely again. “Relax, baby. It’s jus’ a finger,”

Just a finger that already had you moaning louder, like a damn cat in heat. You moved your hands to your face to cover up your mouth and muffle your moans, and Elvis let you – for now. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, moving his finger in and out of you a little faster.

Then he added another finger and you were clenching around him so viciously, he was thinking you were going to push his fingers out of you at one point by just using your muscles.

The thought of feeling that feeling around his cock had him grinding against the bed a little more.

But Elvis wasn’t a quitter and he pushed the two digits deeper inside of you, fingertips curling inside of you and caressing that special spot. Your hands couldn’t contain your moans anymore and they once more found the sheets as you arched your back, spreading your legs wider.

He repeated the action a few more times, fingering you at a steady pace until he couldn’t take the sight of his fingers coming out so wet anymore. It was too tempting.

“Let’s see how sweet you taste, Cherry,” he smirked as he pulled his fingers out and grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing his fingertips into your skin a little to keep you still.

Without warning, he leaned in closer and dragged his tongue from your entrance to your clit. You gasped as your hips stuttered and he held onto you firmer, looking up at you as his tongue swirled slowly around your clit, before he gently sucked it in between his lips.

The sight was downright sinful.

But even though you couldn’t get enough of it, you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head as his tongue slipped through your folds again.

He put your legs over his shoulders, his hands moving up your sides until they found your breasts again. He fondled them lightly, pinching your nipples in between his fingertips softly as his tongue worked wonders on your eager pussy.

“Mmm, Elvis!” you moaned out freely now, unable to contain yourself. The sounds leaving you, the way you were moaning out his name, made you feel so… slutty.

And yet, you were loving every second of it.

He groaned against your skin, his hands slipping down to your hips as his eyes shot open and stared up at you. He wanted to see your reactions to his actions and make a mental reminder of it – the way your teeth sunk into your lower lip, the way your eyebrows knitted together. And the added roll of your eyes as he sucked on your clit was very much appreciated.

You didn’t know what an orgasm felt like. Sure, you had touched yourself but when that pressure would start building in the pit of your stomach, you stopped.

Because truth be told, you were nervous about it – scared even. And now that Elvis was the one who was causing the muscles in your tummy to tense up like that, you felt as if you were about to crawl out of your own skin.

Tangling your fingers in his now messy hair, you tried to get him to stop, tried to get away from him, but the raven haired devil wouldn’t let you.

He’s been between enough girls’ legs to know that you were close to falling apart. Could feel it by the way your thighs were trembling on his shoulders, hear it in the way your moans turned a little more high pitched, a slight hint of panic hidden on the back of your tongue.

You could practically feel him smirking against your clit as he slipped in a finger, pumping it in and out of you in a steady pace. There was a slight sting, though it was barely noticeable due to the orgasm that had you on the verge of tears.

You clamped your hand over your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, your other hand still in his hair as he just wouldn’t stop while you were falling over the edge. If it wasn’t for Elvis holding onto your hips to keep you down, you were sure your hips would’ve lifted off of the bed with the way they were bucking upwards and you were writhing in the sheets.

You could barely recognize your own voice as you moaned out, Elvis’ name falling off your tongue like a mantra.

Elvis slowly loosened his grip on your hips and let you spread your legs, raising his head to look at you with a smug grin spread across his face. You pushed some of his hair out of his face and then let out a breathless laugh, running your hands through your own hair.

Elvis loved the way you were looking at him with those half-lidded eyes that held stars in them, cheeks flushed the way he likes.

“Jus’ like I thought, Cherry,” his whisper is low, his voice a little raspy as he kisses your lower abdomen. “Jus’ downright teeth rottin’ sweet,”

Your cheeks heated up even more as he crawled his way back up, kissing you, letting you taste yourself. It made you moan softly in his mouth, allowing him to take the pyjama shirt you were still wearing completely off.

In a matter of seconds, Elvis’ clothing pieces flung across the room as well, thanks to your greedy hands.

Foreheads pressed together, moans exchanged into each others’ mouths, Elvis thrusted his hips forward slowly as your small hand wrapped around his hard cock. You figured if you would do something wrong, you would know by his reaction, but now he seemed to enjoy it with the way his tongue was dipping into your mouth now and then, eyes closed as he grunted and his jaw clenched.

Elvis had planned to take his time tonight, but he couldn’t take one more second of foreplay. He wanted, needed, to be buried inside of you.

“Can I put it in now, honey?” He whispered as his eyes flutter open, looking at you with a small smirk as he remembered how a year ago you were nearly pleading for him not to put it in.

But tonight he could see how much you wanted it, there was no way in hell you’d put a stop to it now.

At least, he prayed you wouldn’t.

A sense of relief washed over him when you bit your lip and nodded, yet he still wanted to hear you say it. “Are you sure?”

“Y-Yes,” you inhaled a shaky breath, squeezing his cock softly in your hand as you loosely wrapped your legs around his waist. “I want you to be my first.”

You felt vulnerable speaking those words and Elvis smiled, fingertips caressing some hair out of your face and gently tugging it behind your ear. He pressed a kiss onto your lips and nodded. “I’ll be real gentle, okay?”

Slowly letting go of his length and having your hand replaced by his own, you put your hands on his upper arms. He didn’t rush it – didn’t push it inside of you at once, instead caressing the tip of his cock through your folds and rubbing it onto your clit for a little bit.

But it was going to have to happen eventually and even though you’d anticipated it, the feeling of his tip finding home at your entrance still made your muscles tense up and your nails digging into his skin a little.

“Relax,” he whispered, looking into your eyes before kissing the corner of your mouth. “Jus’ try an’ relax, or it won’t feel good, cherry,”

Truth was, it wasn’t going to feel good either way. Emma had already warned you about this, even going as far as to say she had bled when she lost her virginity.

God, how embarrassing would that be… although you doubted Elvis would mind it, because he seemed like an understanding man, but you still didn’t want it to happen.

You inhaled a deep breath and nodded, trying as hard as you could to relax, but it was barely working when he pushed himself inside of you at a snail’s pace. Inch by inch his cock disappeared inside of you, stretching you the way his fingers, or your own, never could.

He let out a deep groan that came straight from his gut as he finally bottomed out, having missed someone so incredibly tight engulfing him.

“E-Elvis… It h-hurts..” you looked at him with wide eyes, nails pressed into his arms so firm you were sure small crescent moons were created in his flesh but he didn’t stop you.

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, leaning his elbows on the bed on either side of your head, slipping one arm underneath your head to keep you close to him. “But it’ll feel better in a little while, ‘lright? Jus’ relax..”

You trusted him and you really hoped he was right, because now you were so full you could barely speak. He could see the tears twinkling in your eyes and as he lovingly kissed your cheeks, his fingertips caressing your shoulder, you melted into his arms a little more.

He held still inside of you for quite a while, letting you get used to the feeling of being filled with something the size of his cock – which, for the record, was definitely not small.

Perhaps someone who’d been so blessed wasn’t the right person to lose your virginity to on a physical level, but then again… go big or go home.

Emma would be proud of you.

And all craziness aside, you were happy that you were losing your virginity to Elvis Presley. Not because he was famous, but because he was so gentle and sweet, taking his time with you and being patient. It was good to have someone older, someone with experience who knew how a woman’s body worked instead of taking what he wanted and calling it a day.

This was truly a special and intimate moment and you were losing yourself into it more and more.

As you felt you were relaxed enough, you whispered to Elvis that you were ready and boy, were you wrong. The second he slowly and softly started thrusting into you, those tears that had blurred your vision were starting to roll down your cheeks. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing him closer into your embrace which made him hide his face in your neck – you didn’t want him to see your tears, nor did you want him to stop.

A million of girls have been through this for centuries.

If they could do it, so could you.

“Don’t cry, honey,” he whispered in your ear, kissing your neck. Damnit, why does he seem to know everything? “Jus’ relax… Give all of yourself to me..”

He kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear and they helped you relax and your muscles to lose that tension – must be witchcraft, you were positive of it.

Step by step, slowly but surely, Elvis picked up the pace as he heard your gasps and soft cries turn into soft moans. The sting was still very much present, but the burning sensation had subsided and you were sure that had everything to do with the grunts and deep moans leaving Elvis, and the sight of him on top of you. He had pulled his face out of your neck again, his eyes boring into yours and while you usually hated eye contact this intensely and for so long, now you couldn’t find it in you to look away.

You were lost in those oceanic blue orbs and when he smiled that sweet smile at you, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were sickly in love with Elvis Presley.

It wasn’t just idol infatuation.

You were totally, completely, irrevocably in love.

Sex was a tricky thing to human kind. Some people used it as a meaningless way to get what they want or to meet their needs, and other people view it as something sacred, something meant to be shared with only that person who you love more than anything in the world.

You had no idea it could be this good, never believing Emma when she said that once you’d done it, you would only want more and more. You’d turn greedy, goddamn near feral because it was such a raw and primal instinct… perhaps that was why it was considered a sin.

You’d never think you would turn into one of those girls that would crave sex and felt like they’d just die if they didn’t get it. But Elvis had that kind of effect on you.

The sun had long risen over Las Vegas but the suite was still dark due to Elvis’ dark curtains being drawn. It must’ve been around 6 or 7 in the morning, but neither of you had slept a wink.

When he’d popped your cherry a few hours earlier, it had hurt. The second time you did it, there was still a slight uncomfortable sting. But by the third time, you were a moaning mess as he turned you around and pressed your face in the pillow, the sound of his balls hitting your clit with every thrust filling the room.

If it wasn’t for the sex daze you were in, you’d be embarrassed by the way you were already crawling onto his lap again after the both of you had taken a shower. Your limbs felt weak and Elvis felt the same, but you couldn’t help yourself and Elvis couldn’t deny you.

“Goddamnit,” he groaned as you straddled him and sunk down onto his length, your hands on his chest, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I created a monster.”

You laughed softly at his words as your cheeks flushed crimson, although that could just as well be because you were so worked up. Elvis grabbed onto your hips and pulled you down a little more, gasping as you fept his tip grazing your g-spot.

“O-Oh… Elvis..” you moaned, biting your lower lip harshly. “S-So deep.. like this..”

He smirked, moving his hands to your ass to squeeze your cheeks in his palms before landing a soft slap on the left one. “That’s right, baby. Can’t get enough of bein’ filled, can ya?”

You giggled softly and started thrusting, slow at first but quickly working your way up to a faster and more steady pace. Didn’t take long for you two to become a bunch of moaning messes once more, going at it like damn rabbits.

It had felt like Elvis had taken a piece of your soul from the moment he’d entered you for the first time and you willingly gave it up for him to keep. You had blossomed into a new person tonight – broken out of your cocoon, going from girl to woman.

Elvis bent his knees a little, heels pressed into the mattress as he grabbed onto your hips and kept you from moving. Instead, he took over and thrusted up into you in such a pace that you had to grip onto his arms to keep steady.

“Oh, fuck!”

He was surprised by the profanity coming from you, but definitely not disappointed. He liked his ladies soft spoken in public, but inside these four walls it was a whole different story. Those rules didn’t apply and especially not to you, because he enjoyed this side of you.

Added more fuel to his fire.

“Shit, I fuckin’ love that pussy,” he growled as he clenched his jaw, his fingers most likely leaving marks on your skin. You threw your head back and Elvis took the opportunity to watch the softness of your skin, he could’ve sworn he could see your heartbeat pulsing underneath it, and the way your breasts bounced along with his thrusts.

He wasn’t going to last long and neither were you with the way he was pounding into you, hitting the right spot every time his hips came up. You were moaning so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if the downstair neighbors could hear the whole thing.

Though before the two of you could reach climax, he wrapped one arm around your waist and switched positions so fast you barely noticed it until you were laying on your back and he was pounding into you like a mad man. The beads of sweat that formed on his forehead, the animalistic growl that left him when he pulled out of you after a few more thrusts to release strings of cum onto your breasts and stomach was a sight to behold. This man was extraordinary.

You’d fallen over the edge right before he’d pulled out and you were clenching pathetically around nothing, wrapping your arms around him to keep him somewhat close, careful not to mess up the masterpiece he’d created on your skin. His lips found yours, kissing you for a little bit until he hid his face in your neck.

“I think I’ll keep you… My personal little Cherry,” he grinned against your skin and you scoffed softly.

“What am I? A puppy?”

He pulled his head back to look at you and raise an eyebrow, playfully nudging your chin. “Oh, she’s been fucked a couple of times and immediately has an attitude, huh?”

You laughed softly at his words, cupping his face to playfully squeeze his cheeks together. He leans into your touch and softly bites down onto your thumb before kissing it.

“You ain’t a puppy,” he said as he smirked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You’re jus’ a little baby.”

“I’m not a baby!” You exclaimed, pretending to be offended as you gasp.

He nodded his head and leaned his face closer to you, pecking your lips while he talked against your mouth. “Uh-huh, you are. A baby with pretty little feet and little red cherry cheeks,”

Instantly, you blushed and pouted against his lips, which made him laugh softly. “As long as I’m your baby, I’ll take it.”

You didn’t mean to say those words. They felt too bold for you to be saying and you half expected him to turn serious and tell you not to get things in your head, but instead he looked into your eyes and smiled.

“Ofcourse,” he said, patting your hair. “You’re my little cherry and I don’t like sharin’..” his fingertip caressed across the black star sapphire diamond engraved into the ring you were still wearing around your neck.

For the whole past year, you had not taken it off once.

“We should clean up and sleep,” you whispered, ignoring how his words had sent your heart aflame.

“I wanna get ya ‘nother present,”

He was already getting up and pulling you off the bed, letting you wander off into the bathroom to clean his cum off of you. This time, you left the door unlocked and seconds later, Elvis came in with his jewelry box.

“Elvis, no.. Put that away. Let’s sleep..”

“Honey,” he said sternly, although you could hear he was playful at the same time. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you closer to him and grabbed a ring, slipping it into your finger, looking at it and when decided he didn’t like it, he took it off of you and rumbled through the box to find another piece. “We can sleep when we’re dead.”

You let out a laugh and shook your head at his antics. While he was putting jewelry on you, from rings to bracelets, your eyes were on him.

This magical, weird, funny, sweet man that had the world at the tip of his fingers and probably one of the richest people in the country, and yet he had no problem giving away his gold as if they were pieces of candy.

You didn’t care about the jewelry, though. Or about the money, or about any of the luxury. All you cared about was the man next to you, a child like smile of excitement rooted on his face.

You didn’t want to think about it all ending, so you forced yourself not to. Because all that mattered was right here and now, and this night (and morning) of two people’s souls connecting the way they’d done.

They say you never forget your first time and you wholeheartedly believed that statement. How in the world could you ever forget Elvis Presley?

Taglist: @peaceloveelvis @notstefaniepresley @jhoneybees

[luna-andra]

Domesticated!König Headcanons ✨

Image: @Jispooks (Source)

Some HCS I thought up of for funsies, take it with a grain of salt if you disagree with any of it. And let me know what you would think differently! If this gets any love, I have a couple of more headcanon ideas to post as well, so please support my delusions of grandeur!

Part 2 is out! StepDad!Konig

Adjusting to civilian lifestyle for König proved to be challenging. Thankfully, he had you to help him along the way.

If you're not from Austria, König will compromise with spending summers in Vienna in the vacation home and live full-time with you in your home county (or wherever the hell you decide to choose. As long as he's not a convicted war criminal there.)

König tends to keep his PTSD episodes in check for the most part, except when he has a few drinks. He opts to sleep in the guest room after scaring you one night from the terrors. The years away from his past life helps them fade, but he will always carry that shit with him.

You help him job hunt. Blue-collar work was for him, the less human interaction, the better.

With that being said, König insists on DIY-ing every problem in the house. He tried figuring it out with his own basic knowledge, but became unstoppable when you introduced him to the DIY side if YouTube. Some projects had him at his wits end, and when you hear him cuss up a storm in German, you have to hold your laughter back until you're out of earshot.

The grocery bill. That's all I gotta say.

Add a couple more bills on it if you got a kid(s).

Most days, König is careful with not trekking mud in from the job site, leaving his boots in the garage/on the front porch. If it slips his mind, you know he's tired. It took a couple of scoldings to figure it out, but he does his best to make it up to you.

König had been okay with living where you wanted to, but he doubled down on living somewhere secluded, or at least outside of the city. Meaning longer drives/day trips if you wanted to shop at outlets. Totally fine, you talk his ear off during the drive to catch up on what he's missed out on during his long week of work.

Tons of nature hikes. If you weren't used to the outdoors, König would get you shaped up. He was so damn proud of you when you stopped relying on GPS and used maps/surroundings/cardinal directions, etc.

Dog or cat family, but I also see him being a reptile dad, too.

WANTS KIDS. THE MORE, THE BETTER. He wants to age and be surrounded by his kids & grandkids every holiday.

When you would go out on dates/shopping trips, there was no avoiding the double takes and stares. You man was giant, it wasn't something he could help. It would grind on his nerves when it came from grown ass adults, but he had a soft spot for children. They didn't know better, so he'd flash a friendly smile or wave so they're not afraid. Those moments would bring back the baby fever for him.

Nothing made König more happy than coming back home to the home you two have made after an adventurous day, watching you saunter happily to the kitchen to grab drinks and snacks to settle down into the plush couch next to him to watch some movies. Your choice, always. And if that baby fever was raging, he would toss you over his shoulder to settle that urge in the bedroom 😏

If this does well, I'll consider posting some other headcanons I have been thinking of! Likes & reblogs are always appreciated <3

[januaryembrs]

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE | Marc Spector x reader

Request: @happyhauntt says - okay i am BEGGING for a fic based on the song 'forest fire' by brighton (be warned that shit HURTS) but i fully cannot decide between poe dameron, steven/marc or spencer reid so i am giving you full creative direction and i look forward to getting my heart ripped out!!

Description: Marc had always carried her with him, since they were small kids playing pirates in the yard, before things got messed up by grown up feelings and burdens. It's not until he sees her twenty years later, he realises he should have saved her.

length: 3.9k

Warnings: Heavy warnings for childhood / domestic abuse/neglect (both from Marc and also reader has a neglectful father) warnings for alcohol, the cave scene, drowning, death etc. you asked for angst, so I served!

authors note: sorry this took so damn long, today isn't even my day off and I have been too exhausted to even look at my computer, but I hope you like it!

Before Randall was too little to be part of his adventures, Marc used to play on his own in the yard. 

Usually that entailed kicking a football at the wooden fence that lined their garden, trying to knock it off his chest when it would come bouncing back the way he’d seen the professionals do it, even if it had led to three milk teeth coming loose already. 

But there weren’t kids on his street to play with, at least that’s what he thought until the one day he kicked his ball a little too high and watched it fly right over the top of the fence, bouncing into the neighbour's yard, a soft “ouch” meeting his ears. 

In minutes, a little head appeared over the wall, beady eyes frowning down at him, and he realised it was a girl around his age, maybe a little younger. 

“Did you lose this?” She held up his soccer ball he was worried he was going to have to kiss goodbye to forever, the small digits of her other hand holding onto the fence tightly. 

“Yeah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to kick it so high,” Marc said, and with no more explanation than that, she threw it over to his side of the partition, and her tiny head disappeared back below the fence line. 

He felt stunned. He knew there were moving boxes over that way a couple weeks ago, but as far as he could see there was only a man living there on his own, a scowl on his face most days. Marc had seen him shouting at the other kids on his block to stop riding their bikes in front of his house because it ‘upset the dog’, though Marc had yet to see for himself this canine friend he was speaking about. 

But there was a girl living there! A real life girl who spoke to him; granted he had lobbed a heavy soccer ball at her, from what her distaste told him, and he wondered if perhaps, despite the grumpy look on her face he realised mirrored the man he’d seen living there, that she might like to even make friends with her neighbour. 

“Wait!” He yelled, running up to the fence where she had slipped away from him, grabbing on to the top and pulling himself up to the point he was on his very tippy toes and he could only just about see her yard. 

The grass was unkempt, which was odd because Marc’s own dad cut the grass every fortnight, and there were planks of wood with nails sticking out of them strewn across the side of the shed she had used to pull herself up with. He fought the urge to cringe in disgust, because there, looking up at him from where she was making a daisy chain in the long, dry grass, alone in a pink plaid shorts and a white, dirt stained top, was the girl. 

“Do you want to play?” Marc asked, his foot nearly slipping under him where he was trying to rest it on the wood to take a closer look, “I have tennis, or swing ball we could play?” 

She looked interested at the mop of curly, black hair for a moment, before she looked back at the house that he had still yet to see any sign of a dog. 

“I’m not sure my dad would like it…” She said cautiously, almost whispering to him, picking the soil under her nails. 

“My mom could come around and get you, she could talk to him,” He offered, because this was when his mother was still mom and not Wendy. 

Before she had yet to flip his world entirely upside down with her cruel hands and vicious tongue. Before Steven. 

She seemed unsure, biting her bottom lip and stroking her arms like she was giving herself a cuddle. But she nodded, looking up at him, and he tried to hide just how excited he was to finally have someone to play with. 

“I’m Marc,” He said, grinning at her, his tongue poking between the space where his adult teeth were only just growing back in. 

She told him her name back, and it was the first time he understood what a crush was. 

–

“Marc, I’m not sure we should be doing this,” She said, grabbing his hand so tight he thought his heart might explode. 

“It’s okay, we come here all the time, don’t we, RoRo?” He reassured, looking back to where Randall, now a few years older and big enough to play with them, held onto the side of the cave, his own face nervous. 

“All the time!” The little boy echoed, because Marc knew he had a bit of a thing for her as well, because she was older and cool and smelled like a field of flowers and he hated seeming like he was scared, even though he was. 

He was just a kid. 

They were just kids. 

And being kids, they stumbled into danger without realising it, not even when the rain started coming down outside torrentially and they had to pause their game of pirates to run for cover. They hadn’t expected, in their childish excitement to continue the adventure, that the water would start pooling into the cave; that it would fill up like a basin, whether they were in there or not, and it wasn’t until the screaming started that they realised they were in the kind of danger that required an adult. 

Marc was the first one to get out, his hair soaked, his heart racing, and he used a grown up word he heard his dad use sometimes because he could have sworn they were both right behind him. 

And if that had been true, then where were they? 

He called her name, debated going back in there himself to see where they had gone, then he yelled for RoRo, because she didn’t seem to be answering. 

And there was only silence, except a clap of thunder overhead that said the rain was going to get worse; was not going to stop for hours. 

Which was when he ran to get his dad. 

By the time Elias got there, his glasses wet and steamed, his thick thatch of curls too similar to Marc’s soaked through, all he could see was a head of hair peeking out of the mouth of the cave, and his heart sank. 

He dragged her out of the dark water, arms under her shoulders as he rolled her on her front and started patting her back, trying to get her to spit some of the water out, because her face was ice and her skin was soaked and her playsuit was ripped from where she’d snagged it on the rocks. 

Marc remembered crying into his hands, gaze flicking back to the cave to see if RoRo was right behind her, if he was just waiting to be pulled out as she had been. 

But there was nothing. Nothing but rain water and moss and those damn rocks he’d been gripping onto not an hour earlier. 

His heart leapt when she spluttered finally, after his dad had thrown her over his knee and taken to giving her a one handed heimlich right between her shoulder blades. She spat the water out, her body shivering immediately, eyes bleary as they looked around as if she expected to still be in that dark hole in the wall, and Elias set her down on the grass to go look for his youngest son. 

“Stay with her, Marc,” He barked, uncharacteristically sharp for him though Marc guessed it was fear, and took off towards the cave again. Marc pulled her into his arms, and it was only then they started wailing together. 

They sat there for an hour when the rescue team finally arrived, a medical team with warm hands and even warmer blankets ushering them to the safety of the back of an ambulance, and the last thing Marc remembered for that horrible day was sitting on the stretcher with her pressed against his side, trembling under the reflective wrap they’d been tucked in that made them look like baked potatoes, wishing he had never suggested they go in that damn cave. 

–

“You’re leaving?” She said, her lip quivering, her eyes lined with tears. They sat on his bed, his duffel bag already packed, his acceptance letter burning daggers into his head from his nightstand, “Military? Marc, just think about this for a minute-”

“I have thought about it. I’m not some dumb kid making rash decisions, I want this,” Except he didn’t, not really. What he meant to say was he wanted to leave, to run away and never come back, but the idea of never seeing her again was too difficult to think about. 

She thought about it for a moment, and he held her hand when he saw her face really start to crumble then. “If you go, I’ll have no one left. You’re all I have,”

He didn’t hide the fact he saw how nervous she was when Marc would pick her up from her house and her father would see her out the door, a nasty, inebriated glare in his eyes at the Specter boy. He saw all the times she would tiptoe around the floorboards, the way he knew too well, as if she was scared of what would happen if she took up too much space, made too much noise. Or when his mother had been kind, way back before any of this had happened, and had fussed over her pretty hair, had piled food on her plate because Wendy said she needed the goodness, she had locked up entirely and looked at his mother as if she was an alien. 

Even now, when they were both seventeen, nearly adults in the grand scheme of things, he knew her father was cruel. 

“I’m sorry,” He said honestly, and he felt his own throat clogging up with real emotion he only ever let himself show when he was with her, “When I get a place of my own, I’ll come back here, and we can pack your bags together, and we can live far away from all of this,” 

And it sounded like he was spinning her a fantasy; which he was. She felt like an idiot for believing him, for flashing him a small smile and leaning her forehead to his which was the closest they ever got to admitting how they really felt about each other. 

He wanted to kiss her then, before he left to start his new life, one where they could be happy together, and he made a promise to himself that when he came back for her that would be the first thing he would do. 

He could see it now; he would be in some kind of flashy car with the top rolled down, a man grown from the regime and fitness they would teach him in the army and she would come running to him like an angel parting the clouds, like a dream that was finally within reach, and he would kiss her then, so hard it would make up for the time they had lost, the time they had grieved together, it might even make up for that day she nearly died because of him. 

So he left her, that fantasy of coming back to her keeping him going in the months of training, during roll call and exams and the small, clinical portions they would serve him in the military. 

But that day never came. Somewhere between losing himself to the alter that had formed and led a full life separately to his, between hiding Steven from the ugly truth and becoming a mercenary after dropping from the army, he tucked the dream away as a what if, and he didn’t return back to that house where his mother had caused so much hell. 

Not until the second day of her shiva, that was. 

-

“Marc?” He forgot how sweet his name sounded from her lips, and he hated to admit it in the middle of his drunken state, but he’d wished he’d never heard it again in his entire life. 

Because the second his front door opened, and a woman in a long black dress, heels and lace gloves stared back at him with a face that looked similar to a girl he once knew, only a notch between her brows that said she had done nothing but frown for twenty years, he wished he had never seen her again. 

She was beautiful, more beautiful than he ever gave her credit for, yet she looked tired. Sunken. Like she had wept and screamed alongside all the frowning. 

“Marc,” She said it more determined this time, pacing down the stairs to his home, her footsteps rushed and worried, “Are you okay?,” 

He knew he must look like a mess. He hadn’t stopped crying for three days since he got the first phone call from his father in almost two decades, since he’d learned his mother had passed, and he was already a bottle of whiskey deep by the time he’d stepped out the cab onto the street he grew up on. 

He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought she would be there. He guessed she would be far away from this place, just like he had been, in a mansion with a 401k and a dog and a neurosurgeon for a husband. She had always deserved it. 

But here she was, grabbing the bottle out of his hand gently, rubbing a hand over his shoulder like not a day had gone by that they hadn’t seen one another, and it didn’t take him much convincing at all to pull her into a hug he had needed since the day he left. 

“My mum’s dead,” Marc said, sounding like a little boy again when he wept into her neck, squeezing her body to his, and he felt her rubbing his back soothingly. 

“I know, Marc, I’m so sorry,” She hummed, and she smelled like a fancy floral perfume he couldn’t afford to give her before, “I know you must be feeling complicated,”

He nodded, because he couldn’t have put it better himself. He felt complicated. 

“I missed you,” She said, like it was a confession, and he cried harder, his face burying into the crook of her shoulder. 

“I missed you too,” 

“How’s Steven? Is he still around?” She asked, pulling him away to root through her pocket for the pack of tissues she’d kept handy for the day. He took a deep breath, rubbing his sleeved arm over his face to dry it even the slightest. He could feel his cheeks sopping wet from where he had sobbed in the back of the cab like a madman all the way here. 

But she was still fussing over him, and she looked just as pretty as he had remembered her, sitting on his bed that day, if not only a little more tired under her eyes.

Ofcourse she had known about Steven. How else was he supposed to explain the times they would be playing boyfriend-girlfriend together and he would become a different person. 

Sometimes Steven would remember her too, because it didn’t matter to her who he was, she was his best friend either way. He remembered a girl who smelled like summer, sitting on the swings and eating ice lollies together, taking it in turns to push each other, blue tongued and happy. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” He replied quietly, as she handed him the tissues, “He misses you, too,” 

She smiled at him with her lips pressed tightly.

“I take it you’re not coming in?” She said in a careful tone, and he shook his head quickly. 

“No- I just can’t,” He said, tears welling up in his eyes in seconds, and she wrapped him in another hug immediately, soothing his hurt as fast as it had bubbled back up.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, you don’t have to,” She hummed, stroking down his back gently, and he hugged her tightly as if she was the only thing keeping him together. 

He opened his mouth to speak when his front door opened again, and he worried for a second that it was Elias. 

Instead, he saw a girl no older than five emerge in a cute, poofy dress that met her knees, her hair tucked into a neat braid, lace gloves matching her own as she lingered at the doorway. 

And perhaps the thing that struck him the quickest; she was the damn near double of the girl he’d hit in the head with his soccer ball in that very yard. 

“Mommy,” The girl said in a gentle coo, her eyes empathetic as she met his gaze, more empathetic than he knew children could feel. But, he supposed, if she was her daughter then it didn’t surprise him in the slightest. 

His best friend turned, her face smoothing out into something peaceful when she saw her little girl, and he knew then she was born to be a mother. Nothing like his own, nothing like Wendy, and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. 

She was a mother. 

“Yes, baby?” She said, half stepping towards her child as the girl stumbled down the first step towards them, and she was quick to swoop her into her grasp and onto her hip. 

“I need to use the bathroom,” The girl said shyly, peeking a glance at him over her mum’s shoulder, and she waved at him with tiny fingers. 

He waved back, even if the sight of her had dumped a bucket of cold water all over his body. 

“Alright, baby. Just wait in the foyer, I’ll come take you in just a second, I’m just speaking to my friend right now,” She said, stroking over the back of the girl’s hair softly, and kissing her chubby cheek. “Is that okay?”

She nodded, and her mum kissed her once more, plopping her back on the top step to direct her back into the house. And they were alone again. 

She looked at him guiltily, stepping back towards him as she fiddled with her sleeves nervously, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get childcare and I don’t really know anyone in state anymore-”

“No, it-it’s fine,” He stammered, feeling her watching him for his reaction carefully, “What’s her name?” 

“Dalilah,” She replied, rubbing hands up her arms to calm herself. 

“Where’s her dad?” Marc asked, hoping he didn’t sound bitter, but the whiskey made it sound like a bite. 

She shrugged, “He wanted the cars and the house when we split; I wanted her,” She said calmly, like it wasn’t one bomb after another to be dropped on him. 

He knew nothing about her life. He had tried to run away from that promise he’d made her for twenty years, because he knew he would never be good enough for her; that he could never give her the happiness she deserved, even before he had become the Moon Knight. 

At his core, he would rot her, ruin her. He would destroy her.

And yet hearing it was just the two of them alone, he felt like he could take out the piece of shit who ran out on them barehanded and go home to sleep next to her soundly.  

He felt like perhaps, as much grief and anguish as returning back to that house had caused him, perhaps this was his second chance. His chance to be what she needed, to be something good.

He would be so good to them. He would give them everything if she asked. 

“I’m not really in town much, especially with my dad still around,” She said, gesturing to where her yard still stood, full of junk and a dog that had supposedly been kicking strong for two decades, “But I would love to see you again. Lila has school most days so you’re free to come over any day of the week if you want it to be just us; I work at home,” She scribbled an address about two hours away down on a piece of paper, along with her phone number, handing it to his distraught face with a sad smile, somewhat hopeful he would take the olive branch she was shaking his way. 

He took it with a nod, his bottom lip still trembling before he bit it hard enough to force it to stop. He would love to see her, if he would even allow himself something good. If he would just let go of the resentment for everything that reminded him of that time, he could see the two of them healing one another slowly, but surely. 

She could fix him. And he could fix her. The way it had always been with them. 

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Marc said softly, allowing her to grab him tightly one more time, “I really did miss you,” 

She laughed, not properly more like a sad breath out, squeezing him to her, “I loved you so much. I never let you go, you know that?” 

He tried not to sob, almost holding her so maddeningly hard she couldn’t ever leave. 

But he had to let go eventually, and he watched her walk back up the stairs to where his family mourned, her face glinting with something hopeful, holding a flashlight out to him where he was walking around in the dark blindly.

He tried to smile back, though he knew it wouldn’t be the same, wouldn't be truly untouched by the grief he wallowed in. 

And by the time he got back to his hotel room, alone, even more drunk, Khonshu had another job for him that would whisk him away for two weeks. But he kept her number, the piece of paper gripped in his hand tight, like he was determined to keep his promise this time around.

He dialled her number exactly fifteen days later, his body aching, his nose bloodied, but something lighter in his chest at the prospect of seeing her again. The light in his dark, the girl on the swings he’d once pretended to marry during their game of house (the rings had been tiny daisy chains she’d woven together just that morning, their officiant was Randall who could barely ride a bike let alone remember the vows he was supposed to say.) 

Only when the phone got put through, a different woman answered, and the light flickered back out into something cold and dark and vengeful. 

“Oh, oh god, you haven’t heard?” He swallowed thickly, “She was hit by a drunk driver last week picking Lila up from school,” The woman, her cousin, explained, her voice teary and solemn, and he didn’t doubt she’d had to make a thousand of these calls the past few days, “They said it was quick, and Lila went fast so she wasn’t in any pain- and she was only in the ambulance for ten minutes before her heart stopped so she wasn’t hurting long either-” 

But he put the phone down, his eyes wide, his body numb, his chest empty and lonely. 

Because the very last bit of good in him was gone; because everything he touched was cursed and tainted from the offset. 

It took what felt like twenty cups of whiskey for him to black out that night, he knew sleep would evade him, he knew not to even bother trying. And Jake Lockely woke up for him, something mean and hateful in the black of his eyes. 

He didn’t care who, but someone was going to pay for his cielo being taken from them. 

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_you’ve been lost for a day, and Miguel is worried. And it’s all because you’re not a science girl, thankfully your boyfriend is there to help you with your biochemistry class. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_age gap not specified (I’m 19, I can’t help it), idiot lovers, implied sex, fluff, Miguel best bf, civilian! shy! Insecure! reader, implied Mexican reader. 𝐀/𝐍_this is based on my favorite song of the movie, hummingbird. Listen to my playlist tho <3

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist. ✰ Index (+ fics here)

Hi, I might be busy, but leave a message. Love u…. *beep*

Miguel smiled, thinking the love u you had as a voicemail was only for him.

But soon he grew irritated. You hadn’t answered your phone for the whole day. You hadn’t even touched the device he had created for you to contact him through his gizmo.

“Why the sad face? Is it because your girl hasn’t answered?” Lyla asked appearing beside him. Miguel only eyed her.

“No.”

“Mmh… Even civilians have busy lives. Just because they aren’t spiders doesn't mean they don’t have responsibilities” the AI said trying to do a wise tone.

“I know, Lyla.” Huffed Miguel, clearly annoyed.

“Well. Then don’t worry, boss. Your girl is okay” You were smart, and Miguel knew you were fine. It only was strange, because you always answered.

“Oh, Peter and Gwen asked permission to come and see you” Once again, he rolled his eyes. Miguel could already hear a silly comment coming from Peter and Gwen cheering him.

“Tell them to be quick”

“On it, boss” With that Lyla disappeared.

Miguel could not wait to leave the HQ and call it a day.

…

By the time the sun was about to start fading, Miguel was able to finish a mission and report and leave everything ready for the next week. The HQ was okay and all the anomalies were safely contained.

He knew it would be easier to find you with his suit.

Most of the people in Nueva York lived in apartments, futuristic and minimalistic ones. Miguel lived in one of those. Until he met you.

Not so long ago, when an anomaly was causing chaos, he saved your life. An angry venom was about to devour you when he appeared.

He thought you were a kid. But later he learned it was your first year of college just when he was finishing his Ph.D...

Long short story, both fell in love at the very beginning of summer, but he waited.

He waited until turned twenty to be your boyfriend. Because your mother disapproved of him.

Your house was in a decent neighborhood. The street had these rectangular houses that were built upside down with long crystal windows and terraces as rooftops.

But you weren’t there.

Your window was open, but no signs of you.

“Damn it, where are you, y/n?” He mumbled, hanging from his bright web in your window.

Huffing, he activated his mask again and started balancing across the city.

He even thought about calling your father. As the man seemed to tolerate Miguel; offering beers and exchanging tastes in music at every gathering. But your boyfriend knew he didn’t have to worry.

Although Miguel didn’t possess a spider-sense, he knew you were not in danger.

And he almost missed to see your tiny silhouette.

He stopped on the balcony of an apartment complex.

The smell of coffee invades the whole avenue.

Your seating, alone. There’s a cup beside your laptop and a book is splayed. You seem very concentrated. Miguel thinks your furrowed brows and hand under your chin are cute.

Peace floods him after finding you.

Relief assaulted him when you started collecting your belongings. You thank the waitress and you leave, putting on your earphones, and carrying your big tote.

So he smirks.

You are humming one of your favorite songs, and finally, you finished all the modules of all your classes.

You can’t wait to go back home and call Miguel. You had missed him so much and-

“What the hell?” You yell as you are pulled towards an alley.

Miguel is there. Suit on, imposing height coming closer to you.

You cross your arms over the red shiny web around your waist.

“Oh look… You don’t own me from Lesley Gore started playing” you say with sarcasm, showing him your phone.

“You didn’t answer any of my calls” Deep down, you knew he was worried. And it made you feel guilty.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with school” Suddenly, Miguel remembered you had started a new college semester. And everything made sense.

“Tough course in specific?” He asked, his mask disappearing to your eyes, meeting his gorgeous face.

“Uh—, actually… yes”

“Why you doubted?” You blushed. And more embarrassed you felt.

“I was struggling and I didn’t want to ask for help. Especially to you” Miguel was confused. His web let you go, but he came closer to you. The way he was so tall and broad made you feel like a rag doll, always having to look all the way up to him.

“And why is that?”…”

“Silly me completely forgot the biology of drugs was biochemistry in disguise” Miguel laughed. He actually laughed and to that point, you were red like a beetroot.

“You’re so stubborn, muñeca” The music had stopped at that point. Putting your phone inside your bag was a good idea to avoid his deep gaze.

“What? I don’t want you to know how much of an idiot I am. I’m not a science girl and you know that…” Miguel stopped smiling.

You had said in the past that you were ashamed. Because you weren’t special like him. You were just a normal girl living a boring life. While he was Spider-Man, he was the leader of a whole group of people like him. He had a job besides that. Miguel was successful, and you were soon to become something. Yet, you were lost.

“We’ve talked about this, y/n. I’m not with you for pity or something. I just happened to fall in love with the most sweet and caring woman I met in the middle of chaos” he had mentioned his late daughter. The mother wasn’t in the picture. Miguel never knew who was his partner in that universe.

And yeah, on Earth-929, he had seen this woman named Dana, but it didn’t last. He never felt in love.

“I know, Miguel. I know that very well, bebé” You pull him closer to you, and immediately your lips welcome him. He closes his eyes and completely leans towards you.

After missing you the whole day, he melts in your lips, savoring each second his skin is on yours. Allowing himself to feel happy.

“I would still look like a bimbo if you ever tried to help me” he laughed, a long laugh, before venturing again into your soft lips.

“Then I’d look like a himbo if you introduced me to arts and literature” both of you giggle, hugging in the middle of a dirty alley.

“Your parents are out?”

“Yeah. They went to visit my abuelita for the weekend. She’ll come next week so I declined the trip to stay and learn about enzymes” Your man nodded.

“I’ll take you home. And I’ll stay with you these days” The news made you really happy. Miguel had stayed with you before. But most of the time it was just a single night. You barely visited his apartment.

“Wait till my parents find out” As you giggle, he rolls his eyes.

“We can keep it a secret”

“Oh, so romantic of you” Miguel feels like a puppy when you start smooching his cheeks. He said he would never grow a beard because he didn’t like it. You had said loved him however he decided to look, but honestly, you really loved his clear face.

“Just for you, mi vida” When you met him, he was this grumpy giant who hated physical contact. Now, he was still a grumpy giant but loved physical contact, just yours of course.

“Wanna go watch the sunset?” He asks holding your waist. You nod, you would never say no.

“Hold tight” his strong arm envelopes your hips, and you hug him so tightly. And the pressure of being lifted appears suddenly, startling you.

As Miguel starts balancing across the city, he notices your head buried in his neck, which makes him smile under the mask.

“This isn’t new, muñeca. You are missing the view” Slowly, you open your eyes, but you don’t dare to move your head, the wind obstructing your view, but across your stubborn hairs, you can see Nueva York.

The lights of the cars, every single highway, the sounds of news on big screens. But the most beautiful view is Miguel and you and his arms. Every skyscraper is a mirror for you and your boyfriend. You can see how small you look compared to him.

As you start approaching your neighborhood, you have to close your eyes again.

You can feel how hard he loves you by the way he holds you as if his life depends on it.

“I don’t like the way my stomach churns every time we do this” you admit on his ear.

“Good to know we are already here, bebé” Pink, purple, orange, and yellow make your eyes collapse as you encounter the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen.

Miguel lets you go. He lets you walk across the rooftop and appreciates you for some seconds.

“It’s beautiful…” you almost whisper, referring to the sky.

“It is…” but he means it about you.

You were his miracle. A safe miracle that came in the most unexpected moment.

“It’s a fruit punch sunset…” You’re worried because you hear Miguel laughing again, which is weird. You turn around to encounter him smiling at you.

“Really? A fruit punch?” You’re blushing again.

“Okay… It’s a summer sunset” he knows you’re annoyed. Because he laughed earlier and now again.

“I’m sorry, mi chiquita. It’s a fruit punch sunset” he admits hugging you from behind.

His soft hair brushes your temple, and his hands around your stomach make you put yours on top of him.

“I love so much” he whispers.

“I love you too, Miguel” Everything was all too well with you. And he intended to keep it that way.

…

Again, that little scrunch you tended to do once you were stressed or highly concentrated.

“Okay… so enzymes are?…”

“Proteins.” You answer shyly.

“Correct”

“And where does the substrate bind with the enzyme?” He is testing you, and you don’t like it. But it’s for your own good.

“The activate site?”

“Good girl” You send him a bad look and he just chuckles.

“See? You’re not dumb, mi amor. You’re very smart” You bump your head with his shoulder.

Both of you are in the kitchen, on the table actually. All of your books are displayed with notes and pens.

“I really want to be done with requisites” Miguel sighed.

“I had to take three English courses when I was in college, y/n. And believe me, I wasn’t the most brilliant. My essays used to have red marks all over” you giggle.

“I don’t think so, you’re a genius”

“Just because I developed this thing with Lyla doesn’t mean I am a genius,” he said pointing at the gizmo in his wrist.

“Oh, Lyla. I miss her” you admit.

It had been a couple of weeks since you visited the HQ for the last time.

“I can take you next week. Actually, I’m strongly thinking that I might need help with the reports” proving that you were very smart, Miguel remembered the system you developed for the spiders to accommodate the reports filled after an anomaly attack.

“Oh stop it, Jessica said it would be fine”

“Jess had actually stated that having you would be very helpful” It surprised you.

“Really?”

“Yeah. A lot of people like having you around the HQ. Peter’s kid especially”

“Mayday?” Miguel nodded. Remembering how fussy the baby got after hearing your voice in a voicemail you had sent to your boyfriend.

“She’s a newborn, Miguel”

“So? She’s like two months old. She already knows you” you shrug. Remember the time you met Peter and how he told you his wife and he wanted to have a kid. A couple of weeks later he broke the news and you had crocheted the baby’s first plushie. A pink little spider girl.

“I love Mayday but don’t use her to make me your assistant” Miguel kissed your nose.

“Why would I do that, mi vida?”

“Because you’re a cheeky asshole” breaking a record, Miguel was laughing again.

“Ay, corazón. No seas así”

“I’ll think about working more time at the HQ. Qué tal?” He nods.

“That would make me very happy”

“Nah, you just want to have me around like your rag doll” Miguel smirked, so you gently punched his chest.

“I’m not in the mood to keep learning about DNA, enzymes, and monosaccharides” you admit rolling your eyes and pushing your head back in the chair.

“Well, I’m in the mood to teach you anatomy now” Your eyes widen, and you start giggling.

“Fine. But not on the couch. Last weekend Mom was this close to finding my ripped panties under the pillows” Miguel couldn’t help but laugh at your index and thumb almost brushing.

“Don’t worry. I won’t throw away your panties. But for sure I’ll rip them apart”

“See? Cheeky asshole”

“I’m just being honest” You would never get tired of how serious Miguel sounded every time. Even when he was saying nasty things. It was in his nature to be sassy.

“Yeah, yeah. Now take me to bed and do what you’re good at” Carrying you in his arms, he hurried to take you to bed.

He gently placed you over the sheets. And before anything, he made sure to show how much he loved you. By kissing your lips like he always used to.

“Miguel?” You ask suddenly.

“Yes, preciosa?”

“I think I forgot everything about steroids… Oh no,” you want to face-palm yourself.

“It’s okay. I’ll make you remember everything, muñeca” As his kisses traveled through your jaw and neck, you relaxed. Finally, let the heat flow across your body.

“First thing, steroids help growth energy, metabolism, and reproduction, bonita” reproduction, naughty ideas start to cross your mind.

Like the morning your parents left to get some things for a gathering, and he had you sweating and crying under him on your floor carpet. But beyond that, you only have eyes for your Miguel. The only thing you seem to need in life.

Your strong and beautiful geneticist boyfriend.

You are unsure of how you ended up by his side. Dating the infamous Spider-Man, visiting the HQ of the Spider Society, and dealing with everything all together.

And he held you tightly the whole night.

Even when things would change in less than a year. With new piers joining, Miguel growing obsessed with keeping in harmony the spider-verse, grieving his past. And how he would traumatize a teenager in hopes of saving everything. Miguel would see you dying thanks to the spot, and the only way of preventing that was making you a spider too. The changes after that would be big. Even with all of that, both of you thought the same; you were in the correct pair of arms, and hopefully, you’d stay long. If not, forevermore.

____________

special mentions_ @freehentai

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Wants and Needs

Pairings: Husband!Travis Kelce x Wife!Reader

Words: 866

Warnings: Talks of smut, making out, nothing too crazy

Everything Travis did today was making you horny. It sounds crass, but a lot of people don’t talk about how difficult it is to basically have a “Greek god” walking around your house, especially when you’re ovulating. You wasted most of your Sunday just watching him complete chores around the house, your core twitching every time he flexed his biceps, or you got a glimpse of his bulge in the tight shorts he wore around the house. You damn near orgasmed, a small moan slipping from your lips when he got out of a shower, a small towel around his waist just begging to fall to the floor.

Technically you could jump his bones at your discretion, and he was always willing and eager, except for on one occasion. Travis had few rules when it came to his job, usually going with the flow, but there was one he had never broken in all the time you had been together: No sex the day before a game. At first you thought he was joking, what man was going to say no to sex, but he was dead serious. He claimed that sex messed with his game performance, especially sex with you, and he didn’t need any distractions with the season going so well. Unfortunately for you, for almost six months out of the year, your libido was its highest when Travis’ rule went into effect.

You were at your wits end that night. You were helping Travis pack his bag for the game, giving your input on his game day fit. “What do you think about this one?”, he walked out of the closet wearing a short sleeve paisley print top, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his hairy chest, something you usually ran your fingers through when he was on top of you. You squeezed your thighs together, your wetness beginning to soak your panties. “Y/N?” Travis’ call out to you brought you back from your fantasy. “What’s going on with you today?” he questioned as he finished placing a change of clothes in his duffle bag. You wiped your brow, the sweat permeating as you denied your needs. “What are you talking about?”, you didn’t even try to sound convincing, your resolve weakening with each passing moment.

“You’ve been eye-fucking me all day.” You let out a forced laugh when Travis wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You’re my husband. It’s in the vows, I promise to love and cherish you, and eye-fuck you around the house. Come on now.” You threw yourself back on the bed, covering your eyes with your forearm. “Seriously, what’s going on?”, Travis asked as he pulled you up from the bed, pulling you into his chest. You sunk down in his hold. “I’m horny”, you let out the tiniest whisper so Travis couldn’t hear you. “What did you say?” he leaned in closer, a smile creeping on his face. “I’m horny!”, you whined out, this time loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “I wish I could help you, but you know the rule. You’ve got a drawer full of boyfriends you could use, though”, your husband replied with a snarky tone.

“Don’t you think I tried that? It’s not the same baby, it’s not you.” You rubbed your hands up and down his chest, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, and he let out a groan. “Y/N, please” he let you go, walking back into the closet. You followed him, realizing you sounded like a brat. “Look, can we just fool around, maybe that will get my over the hump. No pun intended.” Travis grabbed you by the back of your thighs, lifted you up and carried you over to the bed. He climbed on top of you, his cross necklace grazing the tip of your nose as it swung above you. Your lips collided, Travis’ kiss deep and sensual, his hands roaming your body, sneaking underneath your shirt to cup your breast. His kisses trailed down the side of your face, reaching your neck, where he took his time placing wet kisses on your collar bone. Each kiss built up warmth in your stomach. No amount of kissing or fooling around was going to make you feel better.

“You good?” Travis searched your features for satisfaction, but you just looked defeated. “Let’s just stop”, you wiggled under the weight of his body, and he rolled over so you could get up. “Sorry baby, I just can’t.” You turned to him. “Why?”

“You know why. I need focus before the game.” Travis rolled his shoulders back, his demeanor turning serious. “But I can make you feel good”, you slid your hands down his back, straddling his thighs. “You don’t get it. I didn’t have this rule with other girls. I can’t have sex with you, because I will be a puddle for at least 48 hours after.” You hopped off of him. “Baby, I didn’t know I had that effect on you.” You couldn’t help but blush at Travis’ confession. He stood towering over you, his hands on your cheeks. “I promise you, as soon as I get home, I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk anymore. Deal?”

[themotherofhorses]

pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader

warnings: explicit language. secret relationship. some sweet fluff. a highkey dark & obsessive aemond (as usual, that’s basically my brand). babytrapping. mentions of tiddy sucking but that’s rlly it.

notes: hi my little loves, long time no write. several months back, @welight-theway asked for a continuation of the bodyguard!aemond fic, so here it is! hope you enjoy it !! 🫶🏼

also im literally walking out the door as i post this, to walk the graduation stage and get my bachelor's hehe. 2nd gen college student over here 🥰

masterlist

As funny as it might sound, it was your breasts that tipped him off to the little one in your belly.

Sergeant Aemond One-Eye Targaryen is unashamedly a boob man — one so incredibly obsessed with your boobs, as much so as he is with the rest of your body, heart, and soul combined. He actually remembers this particular shirt (a low-cut halter top in his favorite color) you wore to a close friend’s birthday dinner; it looked absolutely stunning on you, showing off the perfect teasingly amount of cleavage that left his mouth watering and pants painfully tight. He helped you sneak out of the house with it, knowing that your father would’ve busted the vein in his forehead if he saw. It was three weeks into his new job as your personal bodyguard and four long years into his infatuation with you.

But that was around four months, and now he has you, and knows you — both inside and out.

So when your pretty face scrunches up in obvious discomfort when he sucks on your right boob and gnaws at your nipple, he is left raising an eyebrow. He has your boobs in his mouth all the time… the short hiss that soon follows between gritted teeth is a bit concerning as well. What is wrong, baby? he coos. It feels sore, you whine, hiding your face in his neck. Hurts too, daddy. Don’t like it. And you’re right, he realizes. Both your breasts and nipples appear more swollen than usual, puffy and tender, and maybe even … a bit plumper too?

Aemond thinks he has a faint grasp of what might be going on with his sweet girl.

He spends the following week eyeing your every movement around him, studying the way you walk and talk, eat and sleep, and how often you might visit the restroom. Frequent urination, odd food cravings, some complaints of minor backache here and there, and midday fatigue … when he googles ‘signs you might be pregnant’ later that evening, his suspicions are correct.

You are pregnant…with his baby. Oh. OH! Aemond is simply over the moon. He wants to cry and shout and pound his chest in happiness, manners and etiquette be damned. And he didn’t think it was actually possible, but he feels himself falling deeper in love with you, his mind constantly muddled with the sight of you fucked so full of him.

This … this is what you were made for, he knows — carrying all his babies, giving him the family he deserves.

“You’ve made me a daddy,” he mumbles against your stomach, careful not to stir you. You’re cuddled around a silk body pillow, exhausted from the four orgasms he gave you, fisting the sheets in a tight grip. “Good girl.” He then presses a tiny, feathery kiss above your belly button, gently dragging his lips across your soft skin, before closing his eyes. Aemond remembers a dreamlike fantasy he had around two years ago, back when he was stationed overseas at Ali Al Salem in Kuwait. He had been napping in an army tent, your picture clutched between his thumb and index finger.

(His favorite picture. Your father had posted it on Instagram as a birthday post; you were sitting at the dinner table with a strawberry shortcake cupcake centered in front of you, the 18-shaped candle poking out of the thick frosting.)

In his dream, you were his pretty little housewife, fingers laced together as you anxiously awaited your husband’s return. Once his laced-up combat boots stepped inside the American airport, you flung yourself into his arms, pleading with him never to leave you again. And he promised. Gods, did he promise. You were everything and more, how could he possibly neglect you again? He woke up only five minutes later, just when you were shyly spreading your legs open, and he was catching a glimpse of your wet cunt; he could’ve cursed the world and murdered someone at that moment.

Aemond almost wishes he could tell that younger sergeant that it’ll all be worth it. All that fucking fixation and hard work would play out in the end, and his ship would arrive at the right dock, and she’d be there to greet him.

Two months in, he notices all the small changes in your body. You’re none the wiser, of course, but your breasts are fuller, and your pretty face is carrying a new glow that shines along your cheekbones and smile. And the baby bump isn’t quite obvious yet, although that doesn’t stop his attention from constantly straying down to your tummy, in hopes of seeing something — anything —  poke out. How could he not admire his beautiful and pregnant woman?

I know you’re in there, he sometimes thinks to himself, mostly in amusement. You might have fooled your mother, but not your daddy.  

Three and a half weeks later, he kisses the tip of your nose and lips before whispering the news in your ear. Your head tilts in equal shock and confusion while your eyes widen and eyebrows furrow. “I’m…pregnant?” you breathe out. You then squint down, watching as your palm flattens across your lower belly. “Are… are you sure?”

He nods. “The signs are all there, baby.”

“What signs?”

“Remember when you were complaining about your breasts earlier?” You nod. He continues, “-sore and sensitive breasts are usually a sign of pregnancy. Haven’t you noticed that they’re a bit… fuller as well? Cup ‘em, baby, feel them.”

You do as he says, cupping your breasts. Around your nipples is a little tenderness that does hurt a bit, and they do fill out in your hands, but you didn’t think much of it before. You chalked it up to PMSing but now… now you’re left speechless, unable to process anything else but the fact you might actually be pregnant. Chuckling, Aemond rests his hands on your shoulders before pressing his forehead against yours. In his lone eye — both happiness and pride.

“I’m so sure of this… but if you’d like, just to be on the safe side, we can always have you take a pregnancy test.”

“Yeah!” you perk up. “Yeah…yeah, um, I think that is a good idea. Just to be positive, y’know.”

Aemond runs a quick trip to the local CVS, and forty-five minutes later, the pregnancy test displays two pink lines, side by side.

You’re pregnant with Aemond’s baby.

He’s completely overjoyed. You’re just trying to mentally plan out how to break the news to your father.  

So it is quite hard to hide a swelling belly; this you learn throughout the next few months. You got lucky during the first trimester, having barely shown with some minor symptoms. But now halfway into your second trimester, there are only so many oversized sweaters and graphic t-shirts you can wear until it arouses suspicion.  

But Aemond, he is simply so gentle and loving towards you, providing constant naked cuddles and belly strokes. He feels more like a husband than a lover, or even a retired decorated sergeant hired as your bodyguard.

You’re a bit worried about public reaction, and your father’s response to your unexpected pregnancy. Your father loves you so much, but at the end of the day, he is still your father, and you are his little girl. “What are the chances he might blacklist you?” you ask Aemond one afternoon, the two of you in the kitchen cooking lunch. “And send me to a nunnery in Switzerland?”

Aemond laughs. “Very unlikely, baby.”

“He’s going to be so upset…”

“It’ll be fine, quit worrying so much.”

“AEMOND!” you snap, bracing against the kitchen counter. Your temple falls into your hands, and you feel that sudden rush of stupid pregnancy hormones overcoming your thoughts. “It won’t be fine! Don’t you understand?! He’s going to hate me! HATE ME! He’s going to be so disappointed with me. I’m still young, in college, and unwedded. Can you imagine all the shit the public will say? All his political rivals, the media, people in school…”

I’m done. In the public’s eye, I’m ruined.

Aemond pauses his mixing of the salad greens, nuts, vegetables, and cheese, setting the bowl to the side. His head drops, and he lets out a loud sigh. “No one is taking you away from me,” he states, in a low and raspy voice. “Especially your damn father.” You blink, taken back a bit. “I don’t give a shit that your dad is the damn president of this fucking nation. You’re mine. That kid in your belly is mine.”

“Aemond…”

“I’ll marry you if I need to. Is that what your father wants? Would he be happy if his pregnant daughter was married to her baby daddy? Would it make all this unnecessary drama shit better? Cause I’ll fucking do it.”

You glance down at your bare feet, wiggling your painted toes. The mauve-colored nail polish is chipping along your big toenail. If you’d ask, Aemond would definitely repaint them.  

“Do you want me to marry you?”

Your tongue wets your bottom lip before you press your mouth in a tight line. “I don’t know if my daddy will let me marry you…” you admit, toying with your fingers.

Aemond then leans against the sink, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh? Is that so?” In his mind, he is freshly eighteen and enlisting in the army, attempting so hard to ignore the snarky comments made toward both his nose and chin and quiet demeanor. All the doubt and torment, the constant undermining and discouragement, and being told he’d never amount to a higher ranking.

His eye drops to your baby bump poking out from behind your shirt, and the delicious way those cute booty shorts hug your hips. You’re everything and more. “I can’t lose you,” he says, shaking his head. “I will not lose you.” He is so incredibly in love with you, driven by obsession, and deepened by the fact that you’re carrying his child.

“I’ll marry you. Next month, next week, even tomorrow if you’d like. Just say yes, and I’ll handle the rest.”

He has the ring in his bedroom, tucked away in the back of his top bedside table drawer — a love knot, glittering with a French pave’ set of diamonds that cover the band halfway in 18k white gold. A symbol of everlasting love, he was told by the jeweler. It’s been in his possession for well over a year now, he just needed to find a reason to use it.

And a baby seems like the perfect reason, doesn’t it?

(creds to the loml my literal everything @chainsawsangel for the banner above <33)

taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke

[plutoccult]

POST-WAR!REINER BECOMES A DAD

pairing: reiner braun x female reader

description: super cute headcanons depicting reiner becoming a father for the first time.

author’s note: new theme!! slayyyy 🤭 i wrote these after i rewatched how i met your mother for the fifty billionth time and the scene where barney meets his child for the first time spawned these headcanons. y’all liked dad!jean, so here’s dad!reiner 🤪 it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. i’d love to write more dad content for the aot men in the future, but i hope you enjoy this!

tags: @solefleurs @heavenfilm @cowgirlikets @jeanboyjean @femme-lune @todorokiskitten @0p1umz

taglist form here

— it was no question that reiner always felt like he didn’t deserve to live a happy life.

— but despite all of his sins and feeling like a monster, you were the one to see a loving man underneath, and loved him despite it all.

— once reiner settled into life after years of war and peace negotiations that followed, he was finally able to live the life he always craved, yet didn’t think he deserved.

— the two of you got a little house with hopes of starting a family one day. it was a bit of a fixer upper, but reiner became quite the handyman to create the perfect family home.

— reiner always feared starting a family would mean he’d accidentally create a child just as screwed up as him, but you always soothed those fears, insisting your future child will be brought up with nothing but love, what reiner always wanted in his own childhood.

— of course, there was still some worry, but that was normal for anyone becoming a parent for the first time. reiner just had to remind himself that there wouldn’t be any vicious cycles repeating.

— when you finally became pregnant after months of trying, reiner was ecstatic.

— he wanted to do everything he could to make sure you were both ready. he built the baby’s crib from scratch, using the chopped wood he brought home everyday to craft it himself.

— reiner even tended to your every need, although sometimes you tried to insist he didn’t, reiner didn’t want you have to lift a finger. you were creating new life, after all.

— once it came time for the birth, pre-parental kicked in terribly. every doubt came rushing back so quickly, but reiner had to keep it together for your sake. he couldn’t let you deal with a wreck like him while you were trying to push out a kid.

— but after hours and hours, a baby girl was finally born, and she was one of the greatest things to ever grace this earth.

— when reiner met his baby girl for the very first time, it was like he fell in love all over again. his love for you was always strong, but his love for your child carried just as much strength. every worry he had washed away the second he saw your precious child.

— he held the newborn in his arms, his first words to her; “you are the love of my life… everything i have and everything i am is yours… forever.”

— it was no contest that reiner would dedicate every damn day of his life to you, your child, and whatever future children you may have. there would never be a single doubt.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[fatuismooches]

could write something about capitano and a childhood crush? maybe reader was the only kid around who wasnt scared of him and they would play together, one day they met up again and capitano realises that he still like them

♡ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐨’𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡

synopsis: When you were a child, many kids feared the boy with a supposedly monstrous face and body. You decide to investigate this rumor.

includes: capitano w/ gn! reader

notes: I sure can! This was very cute and fun to write! (I may have gone off track a bit but I hope you still like it.)

You had frequently heard rumors among the children your age about the boy with a monstrous face and body. Admittedly, you were scared at first due to how severe these rumors were, but eventually, you began to think it was being blown out of proportion. It was surely impossible for someone, a child much less, to look like how the rumors went. So you made up your mind - you would go find him yourself.

It wasn’t hard to find him; all the children would be in the opposite direction. And soon enough, you found him, lying against a tree in the snow.

“HEYYY! YOU THERE!” You smiled, nearing him. The boy immediately jumped up as if a threat was approaching. But all he saw was you, on your tippy toes squinting at up, looking up and down. He was surprised because everyone either ran away from him or came in groups to harass him. But little old you appeared to be doing neither, and rather examining him closely.

“Hm,” you mumbled out loud. Sure, the boy’s face wasn’t that of a typical human, and he towered over you, but it wasn’t anything to be that scared of. You’d even go as far to say he was kind of cool looking. You deemed him okay in your books and plopped down next to where he was sitting. You stretched out your hand and introduced yourself, declaring him your friend from now on.

The two of you hit it off from there. At first, he was very quiet and barely spoke any words as he didn’t trust you. But you kept coming to the same spot every day, talking even though he just grunted or nodded in response, sometimes nothing at all. Eventually, after a long time of trying, the feared boy started talking more, and you got his name. You learned that he had no family and that he rarely went to school because everyone, even the teachers, was scared of him. Since then, you had brought your favorite books to read to him and your basic math homework to teach. In return, he helped you to befriend the animals of Snezhnaya which surprisingly loved him. It was adorable to see squirrels resting on top of him. He was still rather quiet, but he was a nice soul to be around. Unfortunately, he was still a target by the other kids, and even you were found out by them.

“I don’t understand. Why do you continue to be near me? I know the other children have begun to make fun of you as well.”

“Because I actually like being around ya. You’re cool and fun to be with. And you know I could care less about what some random people say about me,” you frowned.

“I look like a monster,” he said bluntly.

You scowled as you jumped up and shook his shoulders. “Don’t say that!” He looked surprised as you hugged him tightly and murmured his real name. An idea quickly popped up in your head.

“Hey! Meet me back here tomorrow at the same time, ok?!” You quickly scrambled up and ran towards your house as your friend was still reeling from the contact.

When you got home, you dashed to your room and rummaged through your closet, practically overturning your room in the process. But you had found it. A big hefty helmet that made you fall down if you put it on. You had brought it years ago because you thought it looked cool as hell and you could play pretend with your friends. But it was way too heavy for any of your friends to manage. But it would surely fit your best friend. You spent all night fixing up any dents and repainting any scratches. It was mighty heavy for you to carry all the way to him but it looked damn good.

When you presented it to him and urged him to put it on, you clapped your hands with how much it suited him. His face had disappeared in the lurking darkness caused by the helmet. If only you had a Kamera, but you had brought a mirror to show him how he looked.

“See! Now no one can pick at your face now. All they can see is your mysterious coolness!”

He was motionless for a bit, and you suddenly began to think that this was a really stupid idea. 

“Thank you. I really like it,” he said genuinely, tracing along the sides of the helmet.

You held in a sigh of relief as you laughed, pulling him to his feet so he could test doing normal activities with it on.

It went on like this for a long time. Every day, you’d meet up with your newly masked friend and play. You kept introducing him to new things as he sat next to you, shoulder to shoulder, silently listening in. You grew older and you had more responsibilities to tend to, but you still made time to see the boy you had a crush on. You’d like to think the two of you were rather close after so many years.

When you heard he had been recruited into the Fatui, your heart dropped. Of course, you were loyal to the Tsaritsa and happy that he was serving her, but at the same time, you selfishly didn’t want him to do that. You wanted to have a normal life with him. And even though you were still young, you sometimes dreamt of getting married. But now that dream was gone. He would be sent out to foreign nations for who knows how long, and you would drift apart.

You were right. Even though you sent letters, you never received a response. You weren’t sure whether it got lost or not, but it was disheartening. Whenever your childhood friend came back and marched through Snezhnaya with the rest of the Fatui, you always silently watched from the crowds. Surprisingly, he still donned the helmet you gave him, covering his face in shadows. And it may be stupid of you, but you felt jealous when you saw how chummy the other recruits were with him. So you gave up. You went on with your life, and you let him go on with his. But you always looked forward to seeing his bulky figure trudge through the snow.

Years passed and you led an average, peaceful life. In the newspapers, it had been announced that your friend had become a Harbinger, his dark-covered face now known to all citizens of Snezhnaya. Long, black locks of hair peeked out of his helmet now. He was now known as Capitano. It was a fitting name. With his physical stature, you always thought he’d be a good leader. Your heart ached with memories of the past, but you were happy that Capitano moved up to such a high ranking. You didn’t see him again until a chance encounter.

More and more news about Capitano came out, and he was now a high-ranking Harbinger. You were in a reminiscing mood once again and quite bored. So you decided to head to the meeting place you and Capitano frequented as kids. It would be a nice outing, and the snow wasn’t that bad today. 

You followed the path you hadn’t used in years and eventually made it to the same familiar tree. Nothing much had changed, the dead branches with snow clinging to it. You slid down the tree for a break but it was short-lived as you heard someone call out your name. You rubbed your eyes and scowled, not sure who could have even found you here, but your heart stopped when you saw who it was.

Capitano. 

You scrambled up to your feet and almost began to call out his real name, but you quickly stopped yourself. “L-lord Harbinger,” you said politely, bowing your head. Capitano looked huge from far away, but he stood so massively in front of you that his whole shadow dwarfed your body.

“You do not need to speak in such a tone around me. I have not forgotten you,” his deep voice rumbled and your words caught in your throat.

“Sit,” he said, sitting down himself against the tree. Even though you knew he didn’t mean it as an order, it sure sounded like one. They didn’t call him the Captain for no reason. The only problem was that he was so huge he took up most of the area. His lap looked really nice right now, but you’d rather die than say that, so you squished yourself awkwardly against him. Capitano noticed and cleared his throat.

“I know it’s very different from last time.”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied, relaxing more like old times. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Me either.” Capitano paused, gliding his large fingers against the helmet that had accompanied him for many years across battles. “Every day when I see this helmet, I am reminded of you.”

“Really?” You tried hard not to smile, but you couldn’t help it. Your childhood crush said he was actually thinking of you! “But what about all the letters I sent you?”

“Letters?” Capitano asked puzzlingly. “I never received anything from you.”

“Oh,” you coughed awkwardly and rubbed your hands together for warmth. “I mean when you used to go out on your missions and all I sent letters to you. But, uh, I guess they got lost. So I kinda stopped sending them.”

Capitano didn’t respond and only looked at you. You could only see darkness where his face was. You looked away.

“Come.”

“Come whe- ack! Hey, w-what are you doing?!” You exclaimed as this man literally picked you up with no effort and placed you between his legs, wrapping his large fluffy coat around you both.

“You’re cold,” he said observantly.

“Well yes I am… but this position is rather…” you didn’t finish your sentence and would probably explode if you looked directly at Capitano’s face. You couldn’t even tell if he was teasing you or not with the pitch blackness. But damn, his chest was so broad and inviting to lay against.

“I’ve always suspected you tried to contact me. But I couldn’t directly go to you, with the dangers of the Fatui and all.”

“Oh, well I understand. I always read the newspapers with you on them.” It felt like the years of loneliness were flying out the window and your childhood memories were being revived.

“I know. It was hard not to notice when you always stared at me so intently when I returned from expeditions.”

“Hey!” you frowned embarrassingly as you slapped his shoulder, which probably felt like nothing to him. “You make it seem like I was some kind of stalker! And I didn’t even look that hard.”

You couldn’t see it but you could tell he was smiling. It was a skill you picked up back when the two of you were kids.

“You know, it’s rather amusing to hear the Fatui conspire about what’s under this mask. Thanks to you, I’ve built quite a reputation,” Capitano chuckled. Your heart pounded.

“I didn’t do much… but I’m glad you still like it. And that you still wear it. It goes with your whole look, really,” you giggled. “But why were you here today?” You questioned, getting cozy in this makeshift chair.

“Often, I come here to train and clear my mind. And in hopes you would come here again. I’m not sure how you would react if I drew that much attention by knocking on your door.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of him bending down to fit through the door. How tall were the doors in his house?

“Well, I’m here now. And I’d rather not leave again, now that I know how cozy you are,” you teased, rubbing the fluff of his coat against your cheek.

“I would like that as well.” You shot up in surprise.

“Wait, really?!”

Capitano moved to press his cheek against your head, but it was really just cool metal that touched you. Capitano was not one for weak people, but you were a special case. Even he couldn’t help but miss the lovely person he shared his childhood days with. “I am a top Harbinger now. I will protect you. I would appreciate having your rambunctious personality with me once more.”

If you weren’t being held in a death grip, you would have jumped up and screamed with joy. “Yes! I say yes!” You squeezed his hand with yours excitedly. 

You knew Capitano was happy, as he picked you up once again and held you bridal style. “Then let us go.”

You couldn’t wait to get back to whatever mansion he was in, take off his helmet, and kiss his face all over.

[ravengards-rogue]

[ cage training | astarion ancunin ]

✧ tags : muzzles, bdsm, sub!astarion, gender neutral + dom!reader, reader is strong (offers to carry him), dirty talk, orgasm control, feeding (?), cutting (for blood), anal (m!recieving), service dom reader, petnames (my star for astarion) a lot of alluding to hunger, more erotica than smut but 18+

✧ wc : 4.8k (what if all just kill ourselves)

✧ a/n : i dont even like this guy like this im just mentally ill about submissive men. also this is a very "read whats on the tin and make good choices" sort of fic.. i know this kind of play might be controversial for beloved white boy but they have a very loving dynamic Okay. Alright. its about Love.

ALSO. this is ASTARION FOCUSED. so reader doesn't cum (though astarion makes up for it as implied)

this is a fluke fic i cannot recommend following me for this guy!!!written mostly for a friend. had a lot of fun with this though!!!

✧ synopsis : astarion relearns manners and discipline. he's rewarded for his valiant efforts.

He comes to you wounded. Save from the scar on the curve of his spine, it's not a physical wound.

Astarion approached you like a caged lion, a circus animal - a predator paraded like a house cat who has only just remembered his teeth. That's why your empathy extended to his greed even when it caused him to wear the worst of himself. You don't think Astarion has ever understood the fact that he's hungry. He's always hungry.

He inhabits a body pushed to failure. His hunger cues are almost as ruined as he.

Like an animal in captivity, every choice he might've had to make slipped between his fingers for many years. How to live, how to hunt. Hunger is the hardest to remember, though it leaves the longest impression. It's a condition of a wounded mind. He had long since forgotten a body that knows a need stronger than staying alive.

He always waited for the violent gnawing to set in, the kind that can be ignored until it can't.

And so, his hunger became his ruin, became his new captor. Astarion met you in the midst of that delirium the first time

Once you let a captive predator free, you've damned it. A caged lion cannot become uncaged. Survival instinct has all but degraded to nothing, leaving only a wounded animal in its place.

You must nurse it to health. Care for it as it renavigates the world.

Curb its hunger when it threatens to wreak havoc.

Sanctuary. Regiment. Retraining.

It's easy enough to discern what he needs. All tender with wounds that need to be licked.

The muzzle is fitted. A gesture of glimmering gold adoration among the steely black of whips and chains.

Astarion is beautiful. Tenfold on his knees.

The leather straps pull back slight against his skin, three in total clipped together at the back of his skull. The thickest strap flattens sweet white curls, thinner ones curved around his ears and jaw.

The structured leather cage, reinforced with metal, rests over his nose and mouth. It fits better than you could've hoped. There's a collar around his neck to match it, with a weighted chain in your hand. He's looking up at you with a softened gaze, ruby red and lidded. Needy.

The velvet of the loveseat dips comfortably under your weight as you sit. Astarion stays where he is. He's as pleasant as he's capable of being, hopeful as he scoots in closer to you.

He succeeds in acting cute, naturally talented in the art of being appealing. He scoots himself close to your legs and positions himself to rest his chin on the edge of your knee.

You meet his eyes amused. You let your hand brush along the pointed shell of his ear. Little goosebumps form in the wake of your touch.

"You should know better by now that those sorts of tricks don't work on me, hm?"

He huffs. "Well that's not true. They usually do work on you. Rather well, I would say."

You pause, taken aback, before relenting with a laugh His pout endears you. You let your eyes narrow a bit in knowing.

"Not like this though. You know that very well."

His frown deepens. You really do adore him. He taps his forehead against your leg as you bite back a smile, his muzzle making the touch briefer than he'd prefer.

"Gods. Of course I know but this, this is torture, darling."

Pleasant and noncommittal, your hand cups his nape. You pet him wherever you can reach, his head before slipping along his shoulder and against your lap. You settle at his back, tracing over raised scars.

A sorrowful hum leaves your lips. Neither of you believe it.

"Torture? Perhaps I've gotten too soft if this is torture."

"Oh you're so awful," He huffs, biting his tongue and choosing to rest against your leg in frustration for a while longer. "Sure, fine - torture is too perfunctory. But it's been terribly difficult! Where is your sympathy."

"What's difficult, Astarion?"

You're being cheeky asking him. After all your rules have been clear and reinforced well for the two tendays that have passed. You've been working hard on reteaching him patience. He used to be so patient, back when you were exploring and unsettled but you've let him take too much and now he'll interrupt you at any moment just to get what he needs.

(Astarion leans on you for guidance. Of course, he has himself - has his freedom that he took with bloodied hands and a broken heart. There’s many choices that he’s able to make for himself, some of them he can’t explain even to you. Whatever they are, they’re his to make and yours to support. 

It’s different though. Not having a choice, and someone making choices for him out of something inscrutable. You don’t bed Astarion until you fulfill the promise of killing his master. More accurately, you don’t lay so much as a hand on him. Only intimate, sparse touches. Only love. Only patience.

You’re disinterested in only having his body. His heart, and his mind, and his very soul - all of it. You want to grasp them so firmly and never let go. The chains and leashing and discipline are testament to what you want most of Astarion - and that’s all of him. You want to enrich him in every conceivable way.  Astarion deserves the granular finery of thoughtful guidance more than anyone. He's brighter when he feels special, after all. 

You’ve broken down the walls between you with a closed fist for this purpose - a not so quiet ask to love him by opening your hand. He’s given you the honor to let you think and act for him so he doesn’t have too. Duty binds you to reteaching him virtue.

It's a privilege to think for him. To wipe his bloodied mouth and care for his appearance prim and his mind sharp. No longer a matted beast but a loved, loved little vampire in the crook of your arms 

You’re not strict to no end. You'd rip the Astral Planes apart in search of what he desires, should he ask it of you, after all. 

Only the best for your immortal love. )

His neediness makes him more misbehaving. He’s been scaring away anyone who looks at you too long for business and otherwise, unable to keep his hand away from between your legs or his head in your lap. 

"Not letting me drink your blood for two tendays is unreasonable enough but on top of that," He's exasperated just explaining the dilemma to you. His muzzle is cool against your pant leg. "On top of that I'm not even allowed any relief. Despite all of your cruelty, you wicked thing. I never took you for such a sadist."

He scoffs. There's poorly masked lust in the last sentence. You stop yourself from smiling.

"Sadist? Really? I don't see it that way. Seeing you act so desperately all this time and keeping my hands neat at my sides... I'm a paragon of patience." You pull on the leash in your hand but don't pull him forward - though you tighten your grip. "It's…good to lead by example."

Excitement flashes over his face in a short burst. It's so brilliant you swear his eyes look white instead of red.

"You cheeky little—" He huffs at you. You smile warmly as he starts to curl in on himself. He already knows how to get himself what he wants. 

He gives up on pretenses. Briefly, just to beg, a monumentally hard thing. "Please. I can't take a minute more of this."

There's a croak to his voice. He has a hard time covering its tracks, even with his propensity for theatrics.

His throat is so thick with want. Something ripping at the seams of him and begging to be released.

"You've done well if it helps, but" You praise. He preens. Instantly. He squirms and wiggles around but doesn't move much more than that. "You act like I don't feed you."

"It is not the same, my love. You're well aware."

You ignore him.

"I even bring you human blood, don't I?" You tease, and his frustration darkens him. "I brought a beautiful and fresh body to drain just yesterday."

"Yes but," His hands turn to tight fists. He isn't sure what he wants to do with himself. You pet him a little more. "It's not the same, damn it. I want yours. Just yours. Just you,"

He adds the last bit quieter than the rest. Your expression is unchanged and cool though your heart might give you away with how hard it pounds.

"Just mine?" You tease. tugging at this leash a little. He makes a face like he's infuriated, a poor mask for embarrassment that endears you even more."Is that flattery?"

You're being a little mean this time. You'll make it up to him. He almost panics before he realizes just that.

"Gods you're insufferable," He complains with no bite. He's hoping for mercy you truly have no desire to give him. "You know that it's not."

"You speak so beautifully it sounds like it. Such sweet little noises you can make."

You let the heel of your boot press along Astarion's crotch. He makes one for you, involuntary - skin pink and sinful.

"See? How pretty."

Astarion is easy to bring to ruin as is. His own snark and disobedience is a poor disguise for that truth. A little tenderness and honesty makes him fall apart. Flirting back with Astarion goads him, though. Fuels his desire to win one over you. If you meet his cheekiness with more cheekiness, he won't relent at all.

Normally that kind of response would make him nip at you. It speaks to his desperation that it doesn't. That instead of making his own snarky remark, he tenses. A deep, shaky little breath. You could tip him over the edge through his clothes at this rate.

You're not so cruel. Not for today, at least.

"Sit up straight."

He does so without protest. You place a hand on his shoulder, the other one tight around the chain of his leash. Carefully, you drag your sharp nails down the front of his chest - leaving light pinkish marks on the pale skin. Over and over and over in light drags. His chest raises under the gesture, your nails scratching soft against his nipples.

"Hng," His voice is feather light. He's trembling at the slightest touch. His spine arches like he's trying to get more friction. "Don't you think you've proven your point?"

You let your palm drag down the smooth plane of his stomach, stopping at his pants. His cock twitches hard against the seam of his pants. You let a finger pull into the waistband, but don't go any farther.

"Not sure," You let the leash drop into your lap. You threaten to pull them down, but don't. Expression blank, you tilt your head to one side. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"My lesson," He repeats sarcastically. You feign innocence as you nod. "Really, darling?"

"I'm not so much of a tyrant," You let go, letting your hand cup the outline of his hard cock. "To torture you without reason, right? So what have we practiced?"

He stares. It must really be getting to him. "Patience."

"Yes. I ask you to be patient. Never kind, but patient. Because I'll give you anything you ask for if you wait. Things are better when you wait for them, right?"

He frowns in annoyance and disbelief. He's exasperated, rightfully - because you are messing with him. Just a little. "Right."

You squeeze his cock tighter. He hisses immediately, grinding into the touch. You blow hot air against his ticklish skin, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"So, have you learned your lesson?"

Your grip goes tight. Astarion craves the touch so badly. You doubt he's ever gone so long without anything at all - if the desperation he's rutting his hips with is anything to go by. His head drops heavy from his shoulders, his hands on the edge of the couch gripping for his life. Manicured nails digging into the cushion like it will save him. His voice is weary.

"Y-," He shudders but you don't let go. "Yes, I'm very sure I have."

"Oh, you're sure."

You enjoy bullying him. At a certain point, it bares itself out against all your own evading. Astarion knows it well enough, though normally it's through less truly intolerable means. Keeping him inside you soft or scraping orgasms one after another until he's too stupid too talk are favored between you.

Astarion likes being given a hard time, in general though. You're made for each other.

"Pretty little thing aren't you, my love?" You tell him, suddenly warmed. You miss the tadpole sometimes. If you could touch his mind right now, you would. Violate his thoughts with your own wants. You settle for a long stare. "So sweet,"

The anticipation makes his breath hitch. He goes completely limp in your grasp, weak and desperate. The weight of it all cracks and he looks up. His eyes glass over.

He shatters under his own need. "For the love of—please. I c-cant, I need to-"

"Shh." You quell him with a tender pet to his head. "You're looking at me so pitifully. Is it starting to be too much?"

He just nods. Your smile widens.

"You've been very patient for these two tendays, haven't you?" You lay it on thick. This is the part you like. You watch as Astarion goes boneless, the words reaching so deep into him he can do little more than collapse himself into your lap. You release all grips of him and let him hold against you soothingly, cling to your legs. "A very, very good boy for all this time. You're quite capable of it when you need to be, aren't you?"

He doesn't reply, but you can feel him melt into you further. For a minute you think you've broken him until you hear him mutter the softest yes you've ever heard.

(Astarion is not so easy to break, of course. And not so keen on opening up the softened wells of his heart to any stranger.

But he does break for you, and gods haven't you worked hard for that? It's a testament to all you've poured into him. Like you know all the right buttons to split him open tenderly.

And he lets you look. Touch and feel and cover your fingers with blood. He trusts you to stitch him closed.)

"Yes, that's right. You've learned your lesson now, and you're going to be proper and well-behaved because that's what good boys do. And Astarion is a very good boy. My very, very good boy."

He picks his head to look at you properly. He's darling. His face is flush, mouth turned into a soft pout and utterly, utterly desperate. His mouth is bitten, indented holes in soft lips.

"Yes, I'm. Please. I want you to touch me."

You aren't sure what you want to start with. He's being needy and you could almost feel guilty.

You pick up something from your side. A dagger from your days of travel. You unsheath it quickly, and let the blade cut along the tip of your middle finger. The blood comes quickly after, ruby red and thick. 

Astarion goes wide eyed. He’s hungry, so hungry - like he always is. But there’s something defeated in the ways he hesitates that make you relish. You push your finger through the cage of his muzzle and tilt your head. There’s mirth in your eyes.

“Go on,” You say, tease, mock maybe. “Eat.” 

He abandons restraint. All of it. You don’t make him work more for it. You push your finger down close enough for his mouth to lick at your wound and let your hand rest on the cage. He can’t get what he’s craving like this. The bone deep sensation starts to claw at him, a soft whimper tucked in the back of his throat.  

More. He wants more. Of course he wants more. 

“You look drunk.” You say, and there’s sharpness to your words. The ways in which Astarion is erotic have nothing to do with his theatrics. He is appealing when he’s giving up on everything but what he wants, always has been. “Have you missed it that much?” 

“Yes.” He supplements, letting his tongue run over “More.” 

You pull your hand away. “Take your clothes off.” 

You watch Astarion scramble to stand. You bring your dagger with you then reach over to the table beside you. Scented oils roll around in the drawer. You’re careful with the blade as you fish out a bottle of it, taking it in your hands. Astarion stands naked, the heavy chain of his leash brushing against his skin. 

“Kneel and lean on the couch, my love.” 

Astarion is the picture of obedience. He leans on his elbows on the couch seats, with his legs spread apart, leash in a pool next to him as he folds his arms and tucks his face. You stand on your knees behind him, admiring his back in the lowlights. 

Your hands rest on his thighs as you kiss up his spine. Small, short kisses all the way until you’ve reached the back of his neck. Your lips brush his nape, nose nudging against the metal of his muzzle. 

Something overwhelms you. Addicting, euphoric as your clothed body drapes around Astarion, free hand on his waist - moving up his stomach to toy with his nipples. It thrums through you, listening to the ragged anticipation and distraught way he moves. Against you, against everything. Aching for touch. 

You feel it overwhelmingly as you close in on his ear. Astarion huffs, long panting breaths. He needs this.

“Look at how naturally you yield to me now,” You all be coo. Astarion groans. Shuddering, your hand slides around his narrow waist and wraps a fist around his cock. He gasps. “You’ve become so pliable, so needy. But you know my star, I quite like when you’re needy.”

He hiccups and shivers and whines. “You’re the prettiest when you behave like the sweet little thing you can be, like I know you are. When you listen and yield and let me adore you in all the right ways. Such a sweet boy you can be, if only you let yourself.” 

“Darling,” His voice cracks. There’s a helpless quality to it. A little more, that’s all you need. “I — you —” 

You pull back and straighten your voice out, taking off Astarions muzzle after the valiant efforts he’s been making to wear it. It falls onto the couch unceremoniously. 

“I’m saying, well done Astarion. I’ll reward you for all that effort. I’ll slash another scar in my hand for you to drink from and then again in the evening when I’ve recovered,” You lean back on your legs as you make promises on your own words. “I’ll bleed for you until you’ve sated yourself and let you get drunk on it. Then, when you’re malleable, I’ll fuck you. Again and again and again until you’ve all but forgotten yourself. All but forgotten who exactly you behave for.” 

You open the oil and let it drip onto his back, watching mesmerized as it slips against every curve and crevice. When there’s enough to make opening him up easy, you stop and reach for your dagger.

The weapon  slashes over the same wound. You’ve done this tens of times now. You don’t let the scars heal with a potion or some kind of spell. Astarion is far from the comfort of romance, but it is its own promise. Your scar is his.

 The pain is brief, but it’s enough to feel it. You don’t flinch, though. When the blood finally seeps from it, you find yourself over Astarions back once again. 

You let your bleeding palms clamp over his mouth. It’s as close to sacred as you can forge between you. Astarion moans. It is shameless. Pitchy, high with want and utterly broken. He laps at the blood like a dog, his tongue sharp against the familiar wound. You can feel his body twitch beneath you, the muffled sounds of his voice.

There is no performance in that kind of pleasure, but the amount of arousal that spikes Astarion’s whole body never fails to surprise you. 

When he’s feeding from you, you busy your other hand with fucking him open on your fingers. Your dominant hand slips down the smooth curve of his spine, oiled skin soft and cool under your palms. He’s built like a dancer, beautiful curves. He’s a little softer now that he eats well. It looks good on him. 

You let your middle finger brush over his hole, relishing in the soft gasp he lets out as you do. Astarion’s aroused enough to accommodate you as you circle it. The tight ring of muscle is familiar, and welcoming to your touch. You don’t need to teach Astarion to breathe, don’t need to remind him of it. You can feel his whole body push along your hands as if urging you towards him. You’re too delicate about the matter for his time. 

Astarion is warmer inside than he is out. It fascinates you, makes your own stomach churn with want as your middle finger curves slowly. You pump in short motions until the resistance is all but gone. When you’ve made it as far as the knuckle of your middle finger, you start to search. You curl and press yourself against soft insides, search and search for what you’re looking for. 

Astarion lurches forward when you find it. The most pitiful little moan you’ve ever heard squeaks out from his lips, against your hand.

“That’s it, isn’t it? Right there?” 

Astarion makes noncommittal noises as you repeat the process again. Another finger, your ringer - spreading him open. Tight hole giving into your touch, filling him. Your mouth kisses the skin that you can reach. You peck and bite along the curve of his shoulders and all over his back as your ring finger penetrates him. His insides soften as you find your pace. 

You see his hands start to fidget, but you chide him before he can do it. 

“Not yet. You can touch yourself when I tell you too. Not before.” 

 Astarion needs more than this. You’ll give it to him, but patience is the virtue here. 

You don’t know how long that’s going to stick though. The way Astarion is shaking underneath doesn’t give you confidence he’s going to hold out long enough for you to take him apart like you want. You’ll give him something proper later, when he’s not so pent you think the slight brush of skin could make him cum. 

You do, desperately, want to see Astarion cum. But it has to be done the right way, or everything would go to waste in a single moment. You fuck him open on your fingers with a pinpoint pressure and accuracy, gauging his every move with the little gestures of his body. You know perfectly, know every inch of him inside and out like a book you’ve read page to page with the corners turned. The way he sways, lays intimately on the edge of cumming but never quite pushing himself over the finish line, speaks to that.

That, and the way he licks the blood from your palm like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted in his life. You can feel it, how messy it is - lapping at the split wound. Sharp unruly teeth digging into your skin, the soft breath of his nose tickling your hand as you cup his mouth. He licks so fervently, like it’s mouthwatering enough to die for. 

It doesn’t help the arousal between your legs. It’d be damning for him to know how affected you are by this. By him. 

“My beautiful boy,” Your voice is thick with desire. You can’t help yourself, the low possession laced it in. “Fucking perfect,” 

“My love,” The words muffle against your palm. You move your hand away to let him speak and his face moves instinctually to bury himself back in it. “P-please. Let me touch myself, it aches,” 

You weigh it for a minute, watching his body lurch forward as you fingerfuck him. You make a noise in the back of your throat, dropping your forehead against his spine - adrenaline making sweat drip down the crown of your head. 

“Poor thing. Aches does it? Touch yourself for me, Astarion. I want to see you make a mess.” 

He groans, hands moving immediately to fist his cock. You can hear it, the sound of him fucking his own fist like a wet, welcoming hole - cock wet and dripping with prespend. Astarions whole body starts to fall limp. His face pushed into the seat, little wet sobs spilling from his lips as he swears over and over. 

It doesn’t take any time for his body to give into the feeling of being pleasured from all angles. You feel his face nudge against your hand for blood as his muscles start to go tighter and tighter. 

“Shit,” He huffs, pushing himself back into your hands. “I’m going to cum.” 

You keep your other hand in place, pace steady. 

“Cum for me, baby. That’s it, easy does it.”

It happens so quickly you’re not sure if you should be impressed or if you should laugh affectionately. You can feel it, the way his hips stutter to a stop, his whole body grinding against you and holding tight to whatever he can cling to for purchase. His body weakens under the weight of your own, going completely tight like a bowstring before falling utterly helpless. Astarion moans loud when he cums, thick white ropes of it dressing the upholstery of the couch and falling to the floor. It’s an impressive amount. Save for what lands on the velvet, it pools thick and heavy. There’s so much, it’s like he can’t stop cumming. At least a minute passes before the twitching ceases. 

He lays there, ragged and weightless and limp. You take your hand away from his mouth and slowly ease yourself out of him as he stays and catches his breath. You press soft, warm pecks up his spine. 

You move away from him to give him some space to breathe, sitting back criss-cross on the ground. Astarion has no intention of getting up on his own, though. Before you can make sense of it, he crawls over to you. He must be worn out, given how willingly he’s coming into your arms in pure exhaustion. His cock is spent, soft against his belly and pink. He’s still naked and leashed. 

Still needy, but the lust has subsided if only a little. Astarion seats himself between your open legs. You laugh lightly, letting him rest in your side - face in the crook of your neck in utter exhaustion. 

“Hero of Baldurs Gate this, savior of the city that. I know evil when I see it, darling. Just outright cruel.” 

You break out into a laugh at the change in behavior as he pulls away to look at you. His eyes are remarkably watery. 

“That claim is undermined by that mess you’ve made on the floor there. Did you enjoy yourself?” 

He almost looks embarrassed by it, a pinkish tint turning the tips of his ears bright. 

“You’ve given me two terrible choices. I say yes and you think it’s a clever idea to do it again or I say no and I never experience whatever that was again in my life. A lose-lose situation.” 

“So you did enjoy it,” You say warmly. Astarion scoffs but doesn’t protest. “I’m glad. You’re very attractive when you’re pitiful.” 

“What despicable taste. I’m beautiful irregardless.” 

You let your head bump against his, and Astarion half-heartedly returns the gesture. “That’s true. A sight for sore eyes as they say.” 

“If you’re true to your word then I’ve earned a little more than just one,” Astarion purrs. Before that, he examines your (still bleeding hand) and picks your palm up to kiss. You grin wildy at his tongue lapping over the wound. “And you’re properly pent up, aren’t you? Let's get this cleaned up and let the real fun begin.” 

“Aren’t you insatiable today? As you wish, my prince. We can move upstairs.” 

He bemoans this. “You’ll have to drag my undead body up there if you’re asking me to get on my own two feet.” 

“Or I could carry you like a bride.” 

“A bride? How ostentatious. I’ll allow it.” Astarion says, then adds more quietly. “But we can stay… here a little longer first.” 

You hum against his skin, peppering his face with soft kisses; he doesn't turn you away from the skinship, which you’re pleased by.  “Of course my love,” 

He lays in your arms quietly and the thought reaffirms itself. You’d do anything for him.

✧ a/n : no one is more upset by the length of this than me. trust and believe this. also sorry for the yapping i just... posting this is so foreboding. it feels like that picture of spongebob who puts his hands up so a car doesn't fall on him. i am Afraid.

maybe ill write a part two of him eating box or something. we'll see. anyway thanks for reading </3. please do rb if you enjoyed. so scared to be in the tags for this.