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notquitecanon · 9 months

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Insufferably Admirable // Astarion x Reader

Summary: After a restful day turns into a bloody night, your unspoken yet painfully obvious dedication to Astarion has put you in what should be a harder choice. Once Astarion realizes just how far you'd go for him, he has to begin to confront the feelings and realizations he's been ignoring for a while. OR that time You figured out the most effective way to heal a vampire and Astarion got emotional about it

Set at the end of Act 1, but not quite act two. Pre-confession but it's obvious they have some sort of feelings for each other

TW: canon typical violence, blood & blood drinking(obvi this is an Astarion fic), no use of Tav or (Y/N), one use of technical self harm (c*tting) but not in a self mutilation way??, mentions of manipulation obvi, reader might be a little too willing to help (totally not be projecting what???)

this is my first time writing anything for Astarion after hyper fixating on him for a month so please be gentle. I know it's a bit all over the place. (yes I could have completely left out the first half, but there isn't much actual dialogue in the second half and I like to put this guy in situations)

"Remind me again why you insisted on coming with me? I figured you’d be ripe for a day to lay around camp and let us do all the heavy lifting." You grumbled, scanning the crowded streets for a merchant. The goal was simple: get to the nearest village, sell off the extra weight, use the gold to stock the necessary supplies, and whatever the gold couldn’t buy… well, acquire it by any means necessary. No matter your path, through the shadows or the Underdark, you'd need to be prepared.

Gale had gone to pilfer for useful scrolls and maybe an enchanted item to snack on. Lae’zel and Shadowheart to a blacksmith for specialty arrows, useful armor, and any other weapons that caught their eyes. Karlach had carried the two trunks and barrel of items you had collected from your adventure thus far, finding you a wheelbarrow before heading back to camp to help Wyll with his preparations. Halsin… had taken his wild form and disappeared into the forest. Originally, you had intended to do your tasks alone, until-

"My dear, I’m always ripe for a lay." Astarion twisted your words with a smirk, easily dodging the hand that reached to swat his chest. With a short laugh, he answered your question, his theatrics only increasing to more you argued, "To begin with, Someone- my fabulous self- had to make sure you didn’t get the whole group wrapped up in another laundry list of side quests- who knows what trouble you could have found if you were left all by your lonesome? A gnoll den? A kraken in the pond? an old woman’s wagon with a broken wheel? a kitten up a tree? An orphanage with a leaky roof? Another cult for us to dismantle? Another temple to drop on me? Where would it end? You’re incapable of turning people away, it’s one of your insufferably admirable qualities."

"It’s called being kind, you dramatic elf." You grumbled, not prepared for the in depth analysis of your character. Trying not to focus so much on the fact he’d called something about you admirable.

"Second, knowing you, you’d sell all this off and still manage to come back to camp with them full. Honestly, pet, how have you managed to collect this much junk? You don’t even have a bag of holding." Astarion scoffed, using a single pale finger to peek under the lid of the barrel. It was just barely containing the countless daggers, goblin bows, pairs of leather armors, and dusty sandals. Your cheeks burned hot- maybe you had a habit of being overzealous in how eagerly you pilfered through all the crates you came across, checking bodies for anything valuable, and demanding the vampire to pick every locked chest the party uncovered. Hells only knew the thrill you got when you would find a buried chest.

"You never know when you might need something!" You reasoned, but swatted him away to hastily shut the barrel before the contents could spill out. It had taken you the better part of the night to pack it full of all the things your companions had convinced you to get rid of. The pale elf rolled his eyes, brushing past you so gracefully you didn’t feel his fingers in your pocket.

"Really, my sweet? When, pray tell, might we need the collection of rusty necklaces you’ve amassed." Astarion held the bronze and silver necklaces up to the light, the red and blue stones sparkling despite the rust. His voice always like velvet, ruby eyes alight with teasing, "Far be it from me to criminalize accessorizing, but that darling neck of yours is tempting enough already."

"Astarion!" You cringed, hearing your voice almost whine. Damn him for having that effect, so you cleared your throat as you snatched the jewelry back, "They are useful when we can sell them for gold."

Astarion, having gotten the reaction he wanted, let you shove the necklaces back in a pocket before glaring at him, though it didn’t hold much actual malice, "Well, come on then, let’s sell the sandals for all the riches the village has to offer us."

—

An afternoon later, you were smiling smugly as you watched Astarion grumble. Between all the goods and six different merchants, you were leaving with an additional 9,000 in gold, not to mention the additional 3,000 Astarion had managed to pickpocket while you bartered, and the items the two of you had managed to swipe. You felt particularly vindicated as he complained about the weight of the coins in his pack.

"I’ll buy you something pretty in Baldur’s Gate." You cooed teasingly, to ‘appease’ him. Astarion spared you a deadpan glance before standing to leave, only making you giggle all the more, "Let’s get back to camp."

Astarion caught your eyes once more, scowl softening out at the sight of your bright smile. He was just about to say something sickeningly sweet and perhaps more than a touch vulgar when his eyes flitted up to something, pointed ears twitching at something you couldn’t quite hear. Until you could.

The door of the jeweler you had swindled burst open, a strangled voice shrieking, "THIEVES! SOMEONE CATCH THEM!"

Astarion must have been rubbing off on you, because for a moment you tried to feign confusion, looking around for the ‘culprits’ as if the dwarf wasn’t pointing directly at you. Not that it did much good as several passerbys began to circle around the two of you.

"Everyone’s so touchy about their personal belongings these days." The rogue scoffed. Astarion grabbed your wrist and tugged you to him, so that your back was pressed to his and no one could sneak up on you. In his other hand, a dagger had already appeared.

You sighed in defeat, taking your bow off your back, "No killing."

"No promises."

Compared to the goblin camp or fighting through the githyanki creche, disarming and incapacitating untrained townspeople and barely trained guards was barely a warm up. Still, Astarion never left your side, an increasingly common occurrence when you found yourself in tight situations. Together, it didn’t take long to put distance between yourselves and your attackers, managing to get far enough to escape to the fight. Deflecting one last blow as the two of you passed by an open tavern, you incapacitated a rather pitiful guard with a blunt thunk from the pommel of your dagger. Taking one relieved breath, you tried not to focus too much of the trail of bleeding, unconscious bodies you and the rogue had left behind in your escape attempt.

"Best we stick to the shadows before we attract more attention." Astarion mused with a cruel smirk, grabbing your sleeve and using it to wipe the blood off the corner of his mouth, his fangs glinting in the afternoon sun. The rogue only chuckled at your curses, giving some inane quip about the crime of dirtying his ensemble and how blood someone always looked better on you, "Now, believe what I said about you finding trouble? Back to camp before you find more."

Before you could wrench your arm back or remind him that he was the only who got caught stealing, he pulled you off the main road into the alley adjacent- unaware of the attention that had already been attracted from inside the tavern.

____

Ambushed in the night.

A whole hunting party of Gur hunters. Willing to purge your party as they slept.

And they were calling Astarion the monster. Fortunately, Scratch was an excellent guard dog. Waking the entire camp when the hunters tried to creep where you slept. Just as fortunately, there wasn’t a soul in camp that didn’t sleep without at least a dagger under their pillow.

Your camp had become a bloodbath in the dim glow of the campfire. You had used the book you had fallen asleep reading as an improvised weapon, throwing it so hard it broke the first hunter’s nose. Lae’zel was single handedly mowing through three hunter with her long sword. Spells and incantations sent flashes of light from Gale and Shadowheart’s part of camp, and fire and brimstone lit up Karlach’s. There was yelling and cursing echoing in the cool night air, orders to take the vampire spawn alive and to kill the rest.

And Astarion? Their target?

He was where he always was during a fight these days. Right beside you, like a pale, snarky shadow. He had been the one to press your sword into your hand so you’d have more than just your dagger. With him, you slashed and sliced anything that came near. Until the bastard appeared out of no where, squeezing in between you and the rogue. You would have applauded (more likely cursed) the near perfect use of an invisibility charm- had it not been for the poison-dipped stake raised against Astarion.

This hunter was different, you could see it in his eyes. They were somehow devoid of life and yet also simmering with rage as they trained on your snow haired companion. This hunter didn’t plan to take Astarion back to Baldur’s Gate, not alive at least. He didn’t care about whatever orders they had, or what consequences would come for disobeying them. He only cared about driving the stake into Astarion’s heart.

Astarion’s eyes went wide as well at the sight of the stake, realizing as you did that this was no longer just a kidnapping, it would be an assassination. Your thundering heart stuttered, blood going supernova in your veins before freezing to ice as your mind whirled through a hundred different possibilities and also went blank. Your own opponent, along with years of learned strategy, were instantly forgotten as blind instinct took over. Every ounce of strength and speed you had was directed into a desperate lunge. In your desperation, you really weren’t sure if your goal was to tackle the hunter, grab his arm, tackle Astarion, or maybe even take the stake to your chest instead- you decided to choose along the way, as long as it ended with Astarion alive(ish) and well.

You managed to close the distance, one hand planted firmly to Astarion’s chest shoving him further and the other clamping onto the leather of the hunter’s gauntlet, the same arm poising the stake. With a feral sounding shriek, you pushed his arm so his aim was off. At the same time, your original opponent, frustrated at being forgotten, cast a wave of thunder that sent all three of you flying.

Astarion, the Gur, and you flew backwards a good fifteen feet, the thunder shaking you to your very bones and splitting your ears. The breath was knocked out of you so hard you thought your poor lungs might collapse and you weren’t able to tell if it was the spell or the impact that did it. You didn’t have time to contemplate, the moment you were able, you scrambled onto your knees. With the same feral tenacity from earlier, you grabbed the hunter by the front of his leather armor, nails leaving scarily deep tracks as you hauled him off your vampiric companion. With your new opponent, you rolled both your bodies until you were on top of him, knee to his chest. Seeing the look in your eyes, the rage left his own, pure survival instinct taking over. You didn’t even feel the sting of the slicing blow across your shoulder, too consumed with a singular mission. It was Astarion’s dagger you had snatched from the ground on the way that delivered the quick death blow. Halsin, in bear form, had appeared out of the tree line and took care of your other thunderous hunter, taking a defensive position around you and Astarion with a goading roar. You expected to hear something from Astarion- a snarky comment about your lack of technique, a snide remark about his assailant, or even just a stream of petty curses- but he was silent. You turned back to him, only to have dread flood every cell in your body.

Nothing else mattered anymore, not the fight, not your injuries, and especially not your forgotten original hunter. Halsin, in bear form, had appeared out of the tree line and took care of your other thunderous hunter, taking a defensive position around you and Astarion with a goading roar. You barely noticed.

The moment you’d disposed of Astarion’s assailant, you were scrambling back towards the rogue, who was laying all too still. At first, you hesitated to even touch him as if that might make it worse. You called his name once, and then again when you were able to gingerly lay hands on him- one hand to his chest and the other pushing some curls out of his eyes. The stake, what should have been an almost useless weapon against anyone else, was still buried in his chest, piercing his favorite frilled collar shirt.

"No… Astarion-" Your voice was breaking, thick and raw. Your eyes couldn’t rip away from the stake, protruding from his chest, the poison staining the white linen of his shirt a sickly green. The hand on his chest balled into a fist, bunching the unsoiled fabric in your grip, but something caught your attention. The tiniest candle light of hope in the rapidly encroaching darkness of grief.

Your hand was directly over his undead heart. Anytime you touched him, your hand always fell directly over his heart. When you teasingly swatted at his chest, when you needed to steady yourself against him, when you needed to catch you balance… you always sought out his heart- subconsciously, instinctually, always his heart. Your hand was over his heart, and that gods-damned stake was four inches to the right. A tiny light, but a light none the less. It was then you realized you were calling the wrong name.

"SHADOWHEART!"

None of your companions had ever heard your voice that desperate, that scared. All their heads snapped to where they had last seen you, finding Astarion pulled to your chest as you wrenched the stake out of the spawn. Astarion stirred only long enough the let our a gurgling shout that fizzled into a groan at the pain, and you could only hope he heard your soft apologies before you started barraging the vampire with healing cantrips. You didn’t stop until the words held no more magic, your supply of magic tapped for the night.

The night air had changed, no longer fueled by adrenaline and challenge, now it was thick with urgency and fear. Each of your companions starting fighting towards the two of you, and when you locked watery eyes with Shadowheart you found her clearing her path with her spear. She had stopped using magic to fight, saving it all for Astarion.

"I’m coming! Hold on!" She promised as Karlach fell in beside her, battle axe taking over and sending two hunters to the grave together. Scratch and the owlbear cub had taking a lesson from Halsin and formed up beside you, growling into the night with hackles raised and feathers ruffled.

"Just hold on, Astarion." You relayed to the vampire, who was completely limp against you his back to your chest, head tilted back against your shoulder which bared his neck to you, showing the fang marks on his pale skin. If you were capable of humor, you would have laughed about the reversal of roles, it was usually you baring your veins to him. But at the moment, his lack of movement wasn’t particularly amusing, so instead you laced his fingers through yours, hoping the warmth would bring him some comfort. You pressed your cheek against his white curls, using your other hand to brandish his dagger just incase anyone got too close, and whispered all the reasons he was going to be okay. And that’s how you stayed until camp quietened and Shadowheart slid to a stop in front of you.

___

Hours later, Shadowheart had used every healing and restoration spell she knew, not stopping even when she began to sway and sweat. Halsin had offered his magic and healing herbs, Karlach made sure there was always a bucket of hot water and a stack of clean rags available, and you hadn’t missed Gale trying to hide the scroll of reviving from you as he slipped it to Shadowheart. Everyone in camp had been quick to gather all the healing potions, depositing them at the entrance of Astarion’s tent. Wyll and Lae’zell had slipped into the tree line to make sure the ambush was well and truly taken care of.

And you? Their appointed ‘fearless’ leader? You had gone uncharacteristically silent. Your heart hadn’t left your throat, clenching painfully every time they jostled the rogue. Your hands were shaking too much, both from fear and white hot rage, to really help the two more experienced healers of the group. And the thought of being too far from Astarion made your stomach turn, so you kept rooted like a tree. But, you were grateful, truly, for all of them. Even if in the moment, all you could do was sit beside Astarion and pray to any God or Devil that would listen. You felt like a wild animal in a cage and a helpless child at the same time, your insides very well might vibrate out of the body if you didn’t melt into the soil first.

The vampire needed all the help he could get. Aside from the occasional heartbreaking groan of pain or agony driven writhing, Astarion was eerily still. Barely breathing, less so than usual. His already pale, chilled skin had taken on a stony complexion, almost gray. And despite the inability to run a fever, there was a sheen of sweat over his face, clammy and uncomfortable. You hadn’t allowed them to undress him all the way, but part his shirt had been cut away to reveal the stab wound. It was deep, weeping Astarion’s already dark blood, and stretching out from the injury were black, twisting varicose veins that afforded you the cruel visual of the poison spreading. You wanted to take Gale’s revival scroll, use it on the hunter, and revoke the kindness of your mercifully quick death.

"It’s like the effect of our magic is being dampened." Shadowheart huffed, hands glowing as she cast another restoration spell. The sweat on Astarion’s brow subsided briefly before returning. Halsin nodded beside her, taking a deep sniff of the stake.

"His lack of blood isn’t moving the potions or antidote through his body fast enough, and this poison isn’t doing any favors." The druid thought aloud, taking some of his herbs to make a paste, "It doesn’t matter how many we pour down his throat if his body can’t absorb them."

Shadowheart’s worried gaze flickered to you for a moment, before settling back on Halsin, "We’ll figure something out."

You knew she was saying that more for your benefit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the pity. Instead, your grip tightened on Astarion’s hand as you swiped a clean rag to dab at his face. There was one more round of healing incantations and one more bottle of healing potion nursed into Astarion’s mouth. Your jaw twitched, watching most of it fall from the corner of his mouth. The same trail your own blood usually made after he fed.

"I’m tapped." Shadowheart sighed almost ruefully, the glow around her flickering and then fading, falling back on her heels. Halsin stood, stooped slightly in the low ceiling of the tent, turning to you.

"We’ve done everything we can do. We’ll try again with fresh minds in the morning. For now the best he, and we, can do is rest." His voice was calming, as if he thought you might start screaming again, but you just nodded, muttering something along the lines of thanks for trying, and not meeting either of their eyes as they ducked out of the tent.

Since you had belligerently refused any of their magical attempts to heal your shoulder, Gale had done a rather pitiful job of wrapping it, taking some pointers from Karlach along the way. The wizard offered you a tight smile and a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder before pressing a bottle of healing potion into your hand, "This one is for you. You’re no good to him if you bleed out all over the floor of his tent. We all know how Astarion feels about waste."

"Yeah- fancy boy will be starving when he wakes up." Karlach’s chipper voice was still laced with a sting of concern. The tiefling didn’t touch you for fear of burning you, but did leave you with some roasted meat and a carafe of water from earlier in the night, "And it wouldn’t hurt for you to eat something either, soldier."

Then you were left alone with your thoughts, hunched next to Astarion’s side, tired eyes examining the bottle after confirming the rise and fall of his chest. In your hand, the potion glowed slightly with the subtlest warmth, the scarlet liquid seeming to have a mind of its own as it swirled in glittering patterns behind the glass. Your injuries were meager, this little bottle of healing would have you as good as new. Bitterly, you flicked your eyes to the numerous empty potion bottles in the corner that had barely slowed Astarion’s bleeding. Your hand closed around it as you cast another look to the Vampire spawn beside you. His breaths were shaky and shallow even after Shadowheart and Halsin had exhausted every last bit of magic they'd had. Now in the quietest parts of the night, or maybe the darkest hours of the morning, your thoughts swirled, desperate for any sort of plan to latch onto. You had to do something.

For you, Gale had said, No good to him if you bled out… He’d be starving, Karlach had been joking, His lack of blood wasn’t moving the potions enough to be effective, that had been Halsin’s hypothesis.

Blood. He needed blood.

The revelation was like being dropped into a freezing lake, determination razing the fearful lethargy out of your soul. With your teeth, you pried the cork out and downed the first circular bottle, the overly sweet taste a stark contrast to the somber mood of the night. For good measure, you did the same with a potion of superior healing and two bottles of general poison antidote, slamming them down so fast you had to ignore the churning in your stomach. You’d loot twenty more goblin caves to make up for the dent in supplies if you had to, in that moment you just didn’t care. You waited a moment, begging the powers that be for your ragtag plan to work, not so patiently watching the bruises on your wrist until they started to fade.

You felt it, the moment that you had been completely healed and there was no where else for that magic to go. And then, you wrapped your arms under Astarion’s, heaving him against your chest. You bared your neck, letting gravity gently swing Astarion's nose to meet your pulse point, his silvery lashes tickling your jaw. He stirred slightly, groaning at the movement, pressing himself into your warmth before stilling again. Was he too far gone to realize what was being offered?

Realizing you’d need to play into his vampiric insticts, you huffed, shattering one of the empty vials against a stone, struggling to do so and keep his deadweight in place. Taking a shard, it wasn’t hesitation but a moment of stilling your shaking hand before you pressed a shallow cut to your neck, right above where his lips rested.

You hissed at the haphazard sting, not as gentle as the pinprick of his fangs were in the night, feeling the blood instantly pool at the seam, a single red ribbon dripping before the potion healed the scratch, "C’mon, Astarion-"

The moment his name left your lips, or maybe it was the moment a drop of your blood hit his, regardless you could feel his instinct, that sanguine hunger, take over. The soft lips at your neck were replaced with dagger sharp fangs digging into where the small cut had been. The sound you let out was somewhere between a gasp of pain and sob of relief as you barred him against yourself, fists clutching into the back of his shirt like it would keep both of you rooted to each other. Somewhere, in the back on your mind, you thought about the irony of the position, being so afraid to let him slip away, like a rabbit latching onto a snake for fear of the serpent starving. Even if it meant being consumed.

In that moment, you were so relieved he’d started feeding that you didn’t care that his fangs dug in deeper than they ever had before, much more animalistic than his usual polite nibble. You didn’t dare flinch or wince, in case that might break the spell. Instead, you focussed keeping the both of you upright, one of your arms wrapped under his own, your fingers splayed across his ribs, and your other hand cupping the nape of his neck. The angle had his silvery curls dusting your fingertips and your thumb caressing the sharpest part of his jaw. Never had you been so happy to feel that throbbing numbness in your neck. Astarion’s chin prodded further into your neck, deepening the hold he had, and with his own shaky breath, he swallowed the first mouthful of your blood.

The hand at his ribs clenched, pulling him impossibly closer and twisting his shirt into your grip again as your pulse began to speed up. The increase of your heart rate only seemed to encourage the vampire, teeth sinking ever deeper to draw more blood flow. Clenching your jaw, you forced your muscles not to tense, it would only make it hurt more. This mouthful was quicker, Astarion seemed to be actively drawing it out of you instead of just waiting for it. He swallowed again, gaining the strength to snake his arms around you. It wasn’t a strong hold at first, but one arm snaked around your waist while the other cradled the back of your head, those long fingers finding their usual place in the locks of your hair. You couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped, relishing the cool touch. Your voice stoked another fire in him, provoking another instinct, your blood provided the strength for his grip to harden, becoming more cage like. As if he needed to worry about you trying to escape.

He swallowed again, and the numbness spread, not just in your neck but into your cheeks and across your chest. Blood was racing, coursing through you and into him, and with it all the magic of the healing potions. You could feel him getting his legs underneath him, untangling himself from you. At the same time, it was getting harder to hold your arm up, the numbness had reached your fingertips leaving them fumbling at his curls before falling to his shoulder. Another long drink and you found your eyes starting to flutter, everything was starting to feel cold as a shiver shook your body. Astarion, against two centuries of vampiric instinct, started to pull back, and you didn’t stop him, but didn’t let him go far either. He was mostly supporting himself now, which was a relief because a fair bit of focus was freshly delegated to preventing yourself from swaying.

"Take all you need, ’Stari-" You meant for your voice to be assuring and strong, but it came out breathy and slightly slurred. Astarion pulled away, the movement bringing you mostly out of your stupor. His ruby eyes were as sharp as ever once again, even if the shadows under his eyes were still too dark for your liking, and they stared into your own half lidded eyes. Other than the deep purple shadows, the ashen complex had started to even out, the sweat on his brow had faded away, and when you dropped your gaze, you noticed the twisting black veins were starting to recede and fade. Hells, you could get up and dance (very briefly before you passed out).

Even, with a foot in the grave, more dead than usual, and covered in both of your bloods he was unfairly beautiful. His eyes narrowed on your dopey smile, as if he your relief was a symptom of too much blood loss. If that was the effect of four swallows, just a little more would flush out the poison completely, "I can take it, love, just please let me help you."

Astarion never considered himself to be someone that had to be coaxed into receiving a gift, and you were offering him one so sweetly, practically begging him. After 200 years of rats and spiders, you had put literal magic in your veins for him. Magic that was bringing him back from death to his usual state of undead. He could feel it bringing his strength back, allowing all the magic the cleric and druid had poured into him to finally take some affect. Your blood, his first thinking blood, was always delicious- sweet and metallic, a delicate blend of all the good tastes, something so intrinsically you. With the potions infused, though, if Astarion was to hazard guess what sunlight tasted like- this would be it. How could he refuse?

Before he went back in, he placed a reverent kiss to the marks he had left in your neck, gingerly lapping at the wounds before sinking his fangs back into your tender flesh. This time, it wasn’t a gasp or sob, but a mewl, your frigid fingers once again digging into the flounced collar his shirt. If you both lived until morning, you were sure he’d gripe for hours about all the wrinkles you’d put in his favorite (only) shirt. Probably throw a proper fit about the stake hole.

Now, as the potions effects dwindled in your own body, you could properly feel the drain. The coldness crept up from your extremities but didn’t counteract the burn in your muscles, making it harder and harder to suppress the shivers. Your breathing was quick almost a pant, but you still felt like you weren't getting any oxygen. If you were thinking rationally, if you hadn’t gone through the brief grief of thinking you’d lost him, you would have realized you need to push him away, that you were approaching your limit. But you weren’t thinking rationally, no. You still were too busy grinning- as your hand had fallen from his collar, it grazed across the wound, now fully closed. Just a little more, you promised yourself. You felt him swallow more, he held himself up completely on his own allowing you to lean into him.

Astarion was okay, more than just on the mend, he was alive and strong, the potions and magic were working, were the thoughts that were reverberating through your head as things started to feel farther away. Your desperation had melted away, leaving a grateful smile in its wake. It wasn’t completely on purpose, but you let Astarion take on more and more of your weight, barely aware of his fangs in your neck anymore, not quite hearing Scratch and the cub whining outside, the shivering even began to subside as it seemed to take too much energy.

Earlier, you had drug him to you and held him against your chest almost crying. But, as more of your blood flowed through him, it had become juxtaposed. Astarion held you in place, leaning over you for the best angle at your neck. It was his arms that kept you from falling over, his firm hand that kept your head from lolling too far back. His bite became less fervent, his grip less cage like and more affectionate. His survival instincts started to give way to civility and charm. You barely noticed as he twisted himself so he could slowly, gently lay you down onto the bedroll that had moments ago been his sickbed. He laid you on your back, onto the generous stack of pillows he kept in his tent. He tangled his fingers into yours, just as you had done for him, his knees holding him in a predatory crawl over you, all without breaking from your neck.

Barely registering the softness, it was the thud of your other hand against the floor that roused you, just a bit. It was also what drew Astarion’s attention, it took everything in him to withdraw his fangs. He gave each puncture would a diligent cleaning with his tongue before pulling away completely, lest he lose control and dive right back in. (Really, how could one person be that tempting?)

But, you had arguably saved his life, it’d be terribly impolite of him to kill you. When Astarion’s eyes met yours, your gaze was more than half lidded as you watched him- what little of your eyes he could see were glossy and fighting to stay focused, he could hear your heartbeat markedly fainter than he was comfortable with.

You were watching him as intently as you could. In the dim lantern light of his tent, surrounded by potion bottles and bloody rags, Astarion was up and moving and breathing again. Revived and strong, his eyes practically glowing scarlet, and, if you really focussed, you could make out the tips of his ears becoming pink. Something that only happened when he was freshly well fed, nothing was left of his stab wound but the hole in his shirt, the frayed edges dyed from the poison and his blood. He could have looked like a angel, complete with the fire’s reflection creating a halo effect on his snowy curls, had it not been for the sheen of sticky blood drenching his chin and neck. Your blood- the blood that gave him enough strength to heal. How could you not smile?

Astarion tried to come up with a snarky comment, but for once, nothing came to mind. Instead, he kept glancing between your intertwined fingers, glassy eyes, and that idiotic little smile. Your giddiness was beginning to unnerve him, had you been charmed or perhaps taken a hit to the head? With the parasite, he reached out briefly into your mind. His brow twitched when he was only met with waves of relief and gratitude, you were too tired for structured thought, but too relieved to give into the exhaustion. How could someone on the verge on exsanguination look so happy? And why in the nine hells did it seem to be directed towards his well being?

The vampire was stricken, taking count of everything you’d truly done that night alone: fought beside him, tried to take the death blow in his place, comforted him, held his hand, cleaned him up, hadn’t let the others undress him anymore than necessary, stayed with him, circumvented his vampirism to find a way to heal him, and had genuinely tried to bleed yourself dry for him. Hell, you’d cut your own neck for him- not even metaphorically, but literally cut your throat for him. He could feel your warmth, your kindness and everything good about you settling into his very marrow. Something uncomfortably… gooey… stirred in his chest, something more and more worrying common as of late, when it came to you. Had his manipulation really worked so well? A feeling too close to sharp guilt gnawed at that warm gooey feeling. Was it really manipulation anymore? Gods, your morality was infecting him.

“This is that Insufferabe admirability I was talking about ." He muttered into the tent, shaking his head as he watched your chest rise and fall, using his free hand tame some of the hair at your crown. It was then Astarion realized your eyes had slipped shut, your fingers, now just as cold as his, going limp against his. Weeks ago, he would have polished off the last of your blood and left you behind. But at present, he felt the sickening need to return even half the care you’d shown him. He’d have to dissect his emotions later. The rogue was glad the other companions had left supplies within arms reach, as it meant he could gather them without dropping your hand.

"Ah, ah, ah," He called quietly, gently pulling you back to the real world, pleased to watch your scrunch your nose in the exertion of waking back up. Finally, that contented little smile on your face slipped into a frown, a protest against his interruption of your sleep. Astarion’s smile was almost apologetic as he helped you into a slightly more upright position, "Not quite yet, little love. It’s your turn. No sharing this time."

Another healing potion was pressed into your hand and opened for you, and you allowed Astarion to guide it to your lips, his pale hand guiding your own. This time, the warmth of the elixir was welcome, a comfort instead of a taunt, assurance instead of a plea. Astarion carefully watched you as you swallowed the potion down, noting how you shivered less and a bit of color returned to your face. When the potion bottle was empty, he traded it for a small cup of water, keeping a guiding hand on the silver chalice he’d nicked from a tradesmen weeks ago until you had enough strength to hold it.

Though still exhausted and dizzy, you had the energy to throw him an obstinate look. Astarion feigned a dramatic sigh but kept a firm enough grip on you that you couldn’t lay back down, "All this for me, yet you won’t even let me give you water?"

Ignoring how it made the dizziness worse, you rolled your eyes, taking a few sips of the water at a time even if it was mostly just so he’d let you lay back down. Astarion was in one piece and you were exhausted, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about anything else. But, Astarion seemed very pleased with himself, squeezing your hand once again, "Good girl."

If you weren’t on the verge of blood loss, you could have choked on the water. Still, there was a part of you that whispered in relief he must be better if he’s back to teasing you. Astarion watched you take a few more sips before you sagged back against the pillows. Your eyes closed again, but your breathing was deeper now and the hand he held didn’t feel as cold. Outside, Scratch and the cub seemed appeased at your improvement as they stopped their pacing and whining to settle at the tent flap.

This time, he didn’t pull you back up, instead muttering to himself as he gently tilted your head to the side, exposing his bite marks. No wonder you seemed so tired, they were much messier than usual. Vicious, was the better word. Not only had his two fangs pierced your delicate skin, but his bottom canine teeth had punctured through as well, and he could see the outline of his other teeth in the deep bruising grooves they had left behind. In unfortunate addition, it seemed in the height of his blood lust he’d made more than one bite, leaving your neck littered in marks. Astarion grimaced, it really was more of a mauling, “Apologies, darling, I’m not typically so brutish. Forgive me?"

Astarion pointedly ignored how his heart lifted at the slightest nod you gave him, instead focussing on cleaning you up as gently as possible. The potion had stopped the bleeding, and he watched as the wounds themselves were slowly closing. Each swipe of the rag was feather light, almost not even there. The elf noticed you give back into sleep, this time not bothering to wake you again. Instead he kept working and fussing until the only sign of his feeding was the stained neckline of your shirt. Then, he gently ran a clean, wet rag over your face and hands, taking away the evidence of your tears and worry. Finally, he threw a cloak over you like a blanket, to hopefully ward off the last of the shivers from the warmth he’d stolen from you.

Not stolen, he reminded himself, though the truth somehow felt more dangerous, it was freely given to him. The vampire settled in, laying across from you, the only part of you he could touch was the hand still holding his. Though, already in your sleep you had shifted towards him. Astarion frowned, eyebrows furrowed, the more he came to know you, the more he knew that you would give and give and give. Truly, he knew that he didn’t need to manipulate you anymore, maybe he never needed to, and for the first time in centuries, he didn’t want to just keep taking. He didn’t want to bleed you dry and loot you for all you were worth. Astarion was surprised to find he wanted give something back to you. He just needed to figure out what.

The nights events caught up to him once again as his eyes closed, listening to the evermore familiar sound of your heartbeat as it became steadier and the even sounds of your breathing as you slept, letting it guide him towards meditation.

Gods damn you and your insufferable admirability.

___

Part Two Here!

Again this was my first time writing for Astarion. I also tried to balance things into being equal parts in each persons perspective. I just love when two lovestruck idiots have to confront their own feelings about being in love.

#me when I can use both literal and metaphorical vampirism as an allegory of being consumed by love.#astarion x reader #astarion x you #Astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion fanfic #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 fanfic #Astarion self insert

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tacobacoyeet · 3 months

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knight in shining armor | b.b.

a/n: my first bridgerton fic! and my first fic in quite a while- i'm sorry! i fear i have fallen in love with yet another fictional character. and his brothers. and his sisters. anyway... enjoy!

warnings: implied sexual harassment (first two paragraphs), benedict bridgerton being the man of my dreams

the gardens are a sanctuary from the noise and intensity of the ball, a place where you can catch your breath and gather your thoughts. the evening had started so beautifully, with chandeliers glittering like a thousand stars and the music swirling around you like a warm embrace. but then that lord—lord berbrooke—had cornered you, his breath reeking of brandy, his words slurred and inappropriate. his hands had roamed where they had no right to go, and his whispered suggestions had made your skin crawl. you managed to escape, but your heart is still pounding, and you can feel the prickling of tears threatening to spill over.

as you take deep breaths, trying to steady yourself, you hear the familiar sound of footsteps on the gravel path. you look up to see benedict bridgerton, your childhood best friend, approaching with a concerned expression on his face. his presence is a balm to your frayed nerves, and you feel a rush of relief.

“y/n,” he says softly, stopping a few feet away from you. “are you alright? i saw you run out and... i was worried.”

you nod, trying to muster a smile, but it wavers. “i am fine, benedict. i ust needed some air.”

he steps closer, his eyes scanning your face. “you do not look fine. what happened?”

you hesitate, not wanting to burden him with your troubles, but the earnest concern in his eyes breaks down your resolve. “it was lord berbrooke. he... he wouldn’t leave me alone.”

benedict’s expression darkens, his jaw tightening. “that bastard. my fist shall have a word with him.”

“no,” you say quickly, placing a hand on his arm. “please, do not. i just want to forget about it.”

his gaze softens, and he covers your hand with his own. “if that what you truly wish. but know that i am here for you. always.”

you feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his touch, his words. benedict has always had that effect on you, ever since you were children. he’s always been your protector, your confidant. but recently, your feelings for him have grown more complex, more intense. you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same.

“thank you, benedict,” you say quietly. “you’re a good friend.”

he smiles, but there’s something in his eyes, something that makes your heart skip a beat. “i’d do anything for you, y/n. you know that.”

you look away, unable to hold his gaze, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “come, let’s walk. the gardens are beautiful tonight.”

he offers his arm, and you take it, feeling the warmth of his body through his coat. as you stroll through the moonlit paths, the tension in your chest begins to ease. benedict keeps up a steady stream of light-hearted conversation, his wit and charm never failing to make you smile.

eventually, you find yourselves at a secluded bench surrounded by fragrant roses. benedict guides you to sit down, and he takes a seat beside you, his knee brushing against yours. the proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart.

“do you remember,” he begins, his voice soft and nostalgic, “when we used to play in these gardens as children? we’d pretend we were explorers in some far-off land.”

you laugh, the memory bringing a genuine smile to your face. “and you would always insist on being the brave knight, while i had to be the damsel in distress.”

he grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “well, i couldn’t let you face those imaginary dragons alone, could i?”

“no, you couldn’t,” you agree, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought. “you’ve always been my protector, benedict.”

he looks at you then, really looks at you, and you feel like he’s seeing right into your soul.

your heart skips a beat. “benedict…? are you alright?”

benedict moves closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “you are so beautiful… an absolute masterpiece,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

your breath catches,cheeks turning a deep pink, and your heart feels like it might burst. “benedict, i...”

he looks to your lips, his face impossibly close, and then meets your eyes once again. you nod, ever so slighty… and without another word, he closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a tender, passionate kiss. it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, his kiss conveying all the emotions you’ve both kept hidden for so long. it feels as if all of the flowers bloom, his kiss warming you to your very core.

you lose yourself in the moment, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands hold you close. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, connected in a way that feels utterly perfect.

the spell is broken by the sound of an angry shout nearby. “benedict!”

you pull back, your cheeks flushed, and turn to see anthony bridgerton standing a few feet away, his expression a mix of shock and disapproval.

“benedict, y/n,” anthony says, his voice stern. “what are you doing out here?”

benedict stands, pulling you up with him, his hand still holding yours. “anthony, we...”

you chime in nervously. “it is not what it looks like!”

anthony’s eyes narrow. “i do not care what it looks like. you know the rules, benedict. you know what this means.”

benedict takes a deep breath, his grip on your hand tightening. “what if i have wished to marry her all along?”

the words hang in the air, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. did he just say what you think he said?

anthony’s eyes widen, and he looks between the two of you. “you... you wish to marry her?”

benedict turns to you, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “yes, anthony. i do. i’ve loved y/n for as long as i can remember.”

tears spring to your eyes, and you squeeze his hand. “benedict, i... i love you too.”

anthony looks at the two of you, his expression a mix of surprise and something else—something like approval. he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “well, i suppose there is nothing more to be said, then. if you both love each other, then you have my blessing.”

relief floods through you, and you throw your arms around benedict, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. “thank you, anthony,” you say, your voice choked with emotion.

benedict pulls back slightly, his hand cupping your cheek. “y/n, i have loved you since we were children, and i shall love you until my very last breath.”

“i love you forever, my dearest knight,” you reply, your heart bursting.

as you share another tender kiss, you know that this is just the beginning of a beautiful new chapter in your lives. the future may hold challenges, but with benedict by your side, you know you can face anything.

#a writes #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton smut #luke thompson #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines

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thema-nr-2 · 4 months

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cant do it alone - B.K

✮ synopsis - bill is needy for you, but he’s on tour. so what does the poor boy in the middle of the night without his baby?

✮ genre - smut

✮ word count - 1.2k

✮ content warning - phone sex, mutual masturbation ??, sub!bill dom!fem!reader, slight degradation, praise, jerking off, semi public masturbation i guess?

✮ a/n um don’t hate me this is my first ever smut so sorry if it ends up on a tiktok slideshow

Tokio Hotel were on tour for their newest album, Zimmer 483. Normally, touring is never an issue for Bill. If he can bring his dog with him, he’s okay. But being away from you for so long was taking a toll on him. He would be calling you any chance he got. He was thinking of you from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep. Sometimes even while he was sleeping. Tonight more than ever, though, as he had woken from quite a vulgar dream. He imagined himself underneath you, squirming at your every touch. He imagined your pussy around him, riding him ever so slowly. Dragging not one, not two, but up to 4 orgasms out of him. Bottom line, he fucking missed you. Poor Bill woke up around 2 in the morning so hard it hurt, his body simply aching for your touch. It had been far too long without it.

Quietly, knowing his bandmates were on the tour bus sleeping soundly, he made his way to the bathroom and locked the door. As he quickly pulled down his boxers, he sighed in relief as his hand grabbed the base of his dick. Inhaling sharply, he began to slowly move his hand up and down, picturing nothing but you. As well as your low, sultry praises, telling him how good he’s taking it. Bill tried his hardest to be quiet, but it just felt too good to keep in. He let out a whimper, a little louder than intended, to which he immediately bit down onto his lip to conceal.

He was at this for a good 15 minutes, and he wasn’t even beginning to feel close yet. It felt so good, yet it didn’t feel RIGHT. He wasn’t used to getting off alone anymore, it never felt the same without you. He knew he couldn’t do it without your help, so hesitantly he picked up his phone and dialled your number. His heart raced with anticipation as he waited to see if you would actually pick up at this hour, and to his surprise, you did.

“Baby?” You asked, your voice slow and sleepy.

Bills hand was still wrapped tightly around his dick, though moving at a slower pace. “Oh liebe, did I w-wake you?” He asked.

“Yeah, but it’s okay… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just.. mmh…” He stopped for a moment before regaining his thoughts “c-couldn’t sleep you know? Wanted to hear your voice..”

As hard as he was trying to hide it, you caught on pretty quickly, even in your half conscious state. “Bill, what are you doing?” You asked, knowing full well what he was doing, but in hopes he would rat himself out.

At this point Bill began to speed up again, hearing your voice quietly whisper to him made him want you even more and it only made him harder. “N-nothing, schatz… p-p-promise…” He whined out shakily, trying to conceal his stutter.

“You know exactly what you’re doing Billy. Does my poor boy miss me that much?”

He shut his eyes as the hand holding his phone began to shake. He held it away from him in an attempt to quiet his moans but it was no use anymore. You knew damn well what that boy was up to. “Y-yes Y/N I f-fucking miss you so much mmph..”

You simply giggle at his pathetic efforts to hide it. “Feel good, darling?” You asked.

Bill, in the state of euphoria that he was, simply moaned a loud “mhm” in response. His hand pumped his dick faster and faster, his imagination going wild. While hearing your boyfriend whimper so pathetically, you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. Your hand found its way under your panties as you slowly rubbed your clit, causing a low moan to escape your lips.

“Oh how I wish I was there…”

He didn’t even care about getting caught, he was so focused on cumming that he didn’t realise, nor care, how loud he was starting to get. “Ohh liebe.. feels s’good… c-can’t take it much longer..”

Chasing your own release, you shushed him. “F-fucking hold it, Bill.” You said as you painfully pushed two fingers inside your pussy, instantly fluttering your eyes shut as they rolled to the back of your head.

“Y/N, ich kann nicht…”

“You can.” You replied bluntly. “You will.” Your voice sent shivers down Bill’s spine. He was finally so close, and being denied his sweet release was going to drive him insane. “Got it? Or does my slut need to take his hand off his dick completely?”

“No no no, bitte schatz… I’ll h-hold it in I s-s-swear.”

“Gooood boyyy.” You say lowly as you curl your fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot. You moaned out Bill’s name at a high pitch, imagining your hips slamming down on his dick while your hands pinned his down, restraining his every move. “Fuck, Bill…”

“I n-need you here so bad right now… need to cum so much for you..” He whines, his dick now starting to hurt from how sensitive he was.

“Mhmm yeah, like the pathetic slut you are, huh?” Your degradation only egging him on more. “Doing so well for me, B-Billy.. fuck!” Your moans became almost pornographic as you move your fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, even sliding in a third finger. You worry for a second that your neighbours can hear you, but the pure ecstasy was enough to tear you from your thoughts. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach again, signalling that your orgasm was approaching.

“Bitte Y/N, needa c-cum so bad, I’m so close…” Bill begged. If it weren’t for how close YOU were, you would have told your boyfriend to stop what he was doing just to make him even needier. You enjoyed his pleas and whines, they made you feel so powerful. Like you could control and train him completely, as if you owned him.

“Go on, baby boy, cum for me like the good boy you are.” His moans got louder and louder as he shut his eyes tightly, nearly dropping his phone from how his tense his muscles were. “Imagine cumming in my hand, or my mouth, or even deep inside me.”

“Ja… ah fuck Y/N I’m right there..” That was enough to send him over the edge. Thoughts of you raced through his mind, taking over his body as he came hard in his hand. He let out a final moan of bliss, dragging out your name and jerking his hips up, anything to increase the pleasure of his orgasm. And shortly afterwards, waves of pleasure washed over you as you rode out your high, softly praising him in the process.

Bill, struggling to even think, propped himself up as he was basically lying down on the floor. He panted heavily as he brought the phone back closely to his ear, to hear your sighs of satisfaction. “Holy shit..” He whispered out. “That felt so good, prinzessin..”

You blushed at the pet name, along with hearing Bills fucked out voice. You could only imagine the glowing beads of sweat on his forehead and his furrowed brows, his chest slowly rising and falling as he breathed out your name.

“Did you wake anyone up? You were pretty loud, ya know.” You teased.

Bill suddenly felt his face heat up in embarrassment. He quietly poked his head out into the bus to see everyone still fast asleep. “Doesn’t look like it..”

“Well,” You sighed, “think you can take another one?”

ahhh i know that was lowkey really bad but i wrote it at 2 in the morning 😭 if you wanna see more tho feel free to request something and i’ll get back to it as soon as possible!

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #gustav schafer smut #tom kaulitz x reader #gustav schäfer #georg listing smut #georg listing x reader #georg listing #gustav schafer x reader #tom kaulitz smut #2000s

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catsgut · 11 months

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Anon : Uhmm is there any chance of doing a surprise Sukuna fic in your kinktober list? Make my baby shine with your top-tier dark fic writing pleaseee 👉🥺👈

OMG i’ve been wanting to write sukuna for a while now i don’t think im quite ready to do a full fic, but i hope this suffices hehehe

warnings : noncon, reader doesnt know about sukuna, blood, virginity loss, not proof read

yuuji simply failed to see what was so awful about him dating a nonsorcerer. his friends had called him dumb for even the thought, yet yuuji actually wasn't the most astute. all he knew was that you were super hot and that he really liked you. to such an extent that consistently now he has set aside time for you, whether it be taking you out on a date or getting you a gift with the cash he saves up. you really felt appreciated when you were around yuuji.

and you were just oh so sweet. even gojo had a go at hitting on you a couple times, however you just accepted it as him being kind, flashing him a comforting grin as you clasped yuuji's hand with yours. "lets get going, sweetie. the movie will be starting soon," you said, your voice dissolving off your tongue like sugar, and yuuji wanted a taste.

the two of you finished your movie, neither of you liking it very much. "the part where she screamed sounded so fake," you giggled before leaning forward to take a sip through the straw of the soda he was holding. he thought his heart was going to explode seeing you so comfortable with him. the way in which your cute mouth folded over his straw made his dick twitch.

“hey uh… would you like to come back to my place for a bit? we would be alone and i just… want to spend more time with you,” you said bashfully looking into his eyes, and the virgin had never nodded his head so fast in his entire life. his reaction made you laugh as you took his arm to lead him the way. the walk to your house was filled with comfortable silence, the both of you being much too shy to say anything.

but what the two of you didn’t know was that sukuna was watching the entire time. from the moment yuji had met you, you caught the interest of the spirit. funnily enough, you were sukuna’s type as well, just for different reasons; sweet, pure, and most importantly, a virgin. it made him smile with delight seeing the poor, unsuspecting girl lead her boyfriend to the comfort of her home unknowing to the fact he was housing something far more demonic than she could ever imagine.

“i know it’s not much, but i hope you don’t mind,” you clap your hands together and grin shyly gesturing to the small apartment. no, yuji didn’t mind at all, only caring about what was going to happen next. would you guys cuddle? kiss? grind on each other with clothes on? the poor, horny boy had a million thoughts running through his mind, it didn’t register right away that he felt your small hands against his pecks. looking down at you, you were focused on feeling his muscles through the tight black shirt he was wearing. You peered up at him with an innocent look that made him feel like he was on cloud 9.

“wanted to for s’long,” you mumbled, dragging you soft finger tips down and down and down…. yuji felt like he was going to explode in his pants right in the entrance way of your home. it took everything in him to control himself, but little did he know sukuna was planning something that allowed little room for self-control.

yuji leaned down to gently meet your lips with his, tongue swirling inside your mouth in an inexperienced manner. he moaned at the taste and reached down under your thighs to pick you up. he wanted to make you think he knew what he was doing. you wrapped around legs around his waist as he carried you over to your couch. you could feel the hardness of his dick press against your core. “you’re so needy,” he smiled sheepishly. you just laid there watching the boy above you run his hands all over your body. yuji was trying to make himself seem confident, but on the inside he was screaming out of nervousness.

“let me have a go,” he heard a taunting voice echo out in his head. he ignored the voice, instead latching his wet mouth on your neck. you whimpered, feeling his lips and teeth smear drool all over your skin. it didn’t feel the best, but you were happy with it being yuuji doing this to you.

yuuji didn’t mean to take it so far, roughly grinding down on you. it just… it had been so long since he came and you felt so good. he didn’t mean to slip up this badly, but before he knew it, his body soon wasn’t his own. he watched his body move, unable to control his movements. ‘fuck,’ he thought, eyes widening as he watched his own hand reach down and grab your neck.

you were too busy feeling him touching you to realize what was happening until you were unable to breath. eyes snapping open you looked up to see your boyfriend smirking from above you.

“my my, you’re being so obedient,” sukuna spoke, words purring off his tongue. you gulped trying to wiggle out of his strong grasp but you were unable to do so. “it’s been so long since i’ve had a virgin,” he growled, leaning down to run his hot tongue up the side of your face.

this didn’t feel like yuuji anymore, instead he was acting completely different. almost scary. you stared up at him as he ripped your shirt open with ease. has he always been that strong? one of his hands reached down to grip your writs together while the other groped and squeezed at your body. “y-yuuji this hurts,” your lip curled and you stared up at him hoping he would see you're uncomfortable.

the sight below him made sukuna groan in excitement. you looked so pure…. so innocent as you looked up at him with your teary eyes. “there’s no use in fighting this, little girl.” a sinister grin etched across his handsome face, dread filling your body. was this actually happening? “please,” you voice sounded weak and frail only making his dick harder. large hands finished ripping the clothes off your body leaving you cold and bare.

before you knew it, he was unbuckling the belt of his jeans. yuuji screamed and begged as he watching the cursed spirit strip his girlfriend of her clothes, but it did nothing to stop what was happening. sukuna only laughed, loving the sound the pain he was causing. it had been too long since he was able to ravage a woman properly, tired of watching the brat he was trapped inside of watch porn before bed everynight. intercourse was something that was to be bloody and rough, not loving and intimate. just the idea made him bored.

you were flipped on your hands and knees. his hand pressed down on your upper back and you realized it would be useless to try and fight it. with a shaky breath, you braced yourself as he slammed his cock into your untouched hole. sukuna's eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the feeling, teeth harshly digging into his lip. he stood up off the couch with one leg and kept the other propped on the couch. without hesitation he began pounding into you. "cmon make some noise, bitch!" he laughed loudly slapping your ass knowing you were unable to make even the slightest of noise with the air being fucked from your lungs. you've never been in more pain in your life till now and you were sure the wetness dripping from your thighs wasn't just your body's arousal.

"dirty girl bleeding all over your boyfriend's cock," his words both confirmed your fears and confused you. what happened to your sweet boyfriend? the one who couldn't even bring himself to step on an insect. What flipped inside him to cause him to act this way towards you?.

you were slowly unable to think of anything but the excruciating pain in your lower stomach. you could tell yuuji, or whoever he was, was close by the way his breathing was picking up. by the time he did finally finish, you felt your hole gush and swell with the amount of cum he fucked inside you. slowly, he pulled out whistling at the sight. your hips were brusied black and purple from his grip on them and your pussy was smeared with cum and blood. sukuna felt satisfied with himself, knowing yuuji wouldn't be able to fix any emotional and physical damage that had been done. it was almost a little sneak peek into what he was capable of.

eventually, after enough time had passed, yuuji had gained control of his body again, but little could be said about you. slowly you crawled your way to the other side of the room, shaking with fear, yuujis heart broke hearing you beg for him to leave, demand he go, but after a few minutes of watching you cry he decided it was best he did. you cried yourself to sleep that night, feeling nothing but betrayal while yuuji cried feeling nothing but guilt for what he let happen.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #tw.noncon #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #tw.dark content

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decafdoodlez · 4 months

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RenRina NSFW Headcanons/Dynamics

A short list of self-indulgent NSFW headcanons and dynamics for my TPoF OC and Fox, though I think some of these could be applicable to Fox x Reader scenarios. ❤️‍🩹

a/n: I am cringe™️, but I am free (part 2), but a little spicier~🌶️ To be honest, I’ve drawn plenty of NSFW, but I’ve never actually written it, so apologies if anything sounds a little disjointed, this is my first time writing anything remotely raunchy! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

word count: 1.1k

warnings/tags: NSFW | written with AFAB OC x Canon in mind, captive/captor themes, toxic dynamic, power imbalance, age difference (both adults are 25+), just lots of fucking headcanons

Marina was a virgin before meeting Fox. Marina had only ever focused on furthering her career, so relationships and sex (or lack thereof) were very much the lowest on her list of priorities in life. (She would’ve been content e-fucking anime boys for the rest of her life, lmao)

In their second livestream, Fox states that it doesn’t matter to him one way or another if she’s a virgin or just inexperienced, though he can’t help but find it adorable seeing Marina fumble her way through and gagging while giving him a blowjob, or her legs giving out and becoming Jell-O immediately from trying to bounce up and down on his knotted member.

Marina isn’t completely clueless about sex, having played 18+ otome hentai games, but putting what she learns in theory from these games into practice is another story. Fox lavishes in her sweet, sweet ignorance, and ever so “lovingly” teaches her everything he knows to get the two of them to the peak of ecstasy.

Despite being a sadist, Fox isn’t only interested in getting himself off. Fox also derives pleasure from getting Marina off. Seeing her go from the prim and proper picture of untouched innocence into a broken, crying, and filthy whore for him and him alone makes his cock twitch at just the thought of it.

Fox at his core is a versatile switch, enjoying roles as dominant or submissive depending on his partner, but because of Marina’s inexperience and role as “pet,” he performs a dominant top role in the bedroom. Though, he does encourage (force) Marina to top him, just to see her buckle under the pressure of having to perform well enough for him as she grinds her hips against his.

Though he has retired Marina from gore torture streams, he still fucks her on camera occasionally, without going too extreme on her in terms of physical pain with the requests that roll in from the chat. These streams are not as popular as his snuff streams, but they still hold an audience of devoted Fox fans who just enjoy watching their favorite furry DILF fuck pretty and sweet little pets.

Fox is not a tit or ass man, to him, they both have their merits. BUT if he had to choose, his preference is for whichever part of his partner is larger, so in this case, Marina’s breasts are his favorite part of her body.

Speaking of Marina’s breasts, her large nipples are quite sensitive and she gains pleasure from them being teased and toyed with. Fox takes advantage of this fact, and often finds himself suckling on her tits and leaving bleeding marks on her areolas like a leech. >:3

Marina’s bust size is 34F, and Fox will never let her get a reduction. But conversely, he doesn’t need her to get an augmentation either; he likes her big naturals just the way they are.

Fox’s cock is an average length at 5 inches from tip to knot, and 6.25 inches from tip to base. The stretch from his knot is absolutely delicious.

Fox’s pubic hair is a thick white fur that trails down from his navel to the base of his shaft. His fur also cutely runs from his lower back into his ass crack, to around his hole and trailing up to his taint and balls. uwu

Fox’s nicknames for Marina as he fucks her are a far cry from the sweet names he usually purrs out for her. Some of his more raunchy favorites are “Fuck doll,” “breeding bitch,” “fuck bunny,” “cum slut,” and “cocksleeve.” His more standard nicknames are “pet,” “naughty little girl/slut/whore,” “crybaby,” “needy little baby,” “baby/babydoll,” and “my (little) girl/baby.”

Though Fox enjoys fucking as a whole, his favorite position would have to be doggy or prone. (Shocker /s) Having one arm pulled back and her face pressed into the surface she’s being bent over is the most intoxicating position for him. Seeing his cock go in and out of her puffy and slick folds while he has a firm handle on her round and reddened ass as she has no way of escaping him pounding into her drives him animalistic.

Marina’s favorite position is missionary. It’s a bit on the safe side and a more standard position, but it makes her feel loved when Fox looks her in the eyes as he slams his cock into her needy hole and his balls slap against her ass.

Missionary may not be Fox’s favorite position, but he does enjoy how romantic it can be. Plus, he gets to watch her breasts flop around rhythmically as he pounds into her.

Fucking with Fox can go one of two ways, fast & rough/primal, or soft & slow/passionate. It’s all dependent on how he’s feeling. He’s got beastly and feral qualities for sure, but at his core, he is a bit of a romantic, and likes to display that side of himself on occasion.

Despite his age, Fox has better stamina than one could expect for a man pushing 50. He can keep a steady stroke pace, and usually cum twice or three times in a fuck session.

Marina on the other hand taps out quite easily, and whines and cries as she convulses from the overstimulation, while Fox continues to pump in and out of her, chasing his own high.

Fox is not averse to having Marina pass out as he fucks her, but he will smack her face a bit to wake her up if he sees her falling unconscious. He’d just prefer if she’d stay awake as he ruins her. He wants her to remember the feeling of every inch of his cock and how it stretches her out…and unfortunately, “you can’t do that while sleeping, darling.” uwu

Fox gets very excited when hearing Marina’s shrill whimpers and whines. With each mewl that leaves her pretty little lips, his tail thumps harder and faster, and his grip on her supple flesh becomes tighter and rougher.

Fox has taught Marina how to squirt. (Or fucked her well enough to squirt, rather.) The first time she squirted was while he was eating her out, sucking and nibbling on her clit until the last bit of composure inside of her just snapped. After coating his face in her fluids, Marina thoroughly apologized to Fox, thinking she had done something wrong and off-putting by making a mess, ultimately thinking she would be punished for it. However, Fox with a predatory gaze licked his lips then continued to work away to Marina’s sensitive clit, over-stimulating her further to the point of her releasing her juices again and again as she shrieked in the pain derived from the pleasure.

a/n: This list was a bit all over the place, but I feel like I could go on and on, haha. I could certainly do a part two to this! I think I may want to pick a kink and do a one shot for my next writing though. I want to play around with dialogue, hehe. Thank you for reading!~ ❤️‍🩹

#my writing #ren hana #the price of flesh #tpof fox #tpof #boyfriend to death #btd ren #tpof ren #fox x oc #renrina #fox x mc #oc x canon

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 8 months

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Seven Days to Fall Again | Friday | Jeon Jungkook

Inspired by the MV "Seven" by Jung Kook ft. Latto (obvi lol) Summary:Caught in the rain, trying to get to you. You tried to go out to clear your head but he wants to make sure you know he's always looking out for you. Pairing: Reader x Jungkook (almost exes to lovers lol) Word Count: 4.3k (longest chapter so far lol) Warnings: Smut (too lazy to add specifics lol), Explicit language that's it lol a/n: Hey guys so uh...got a little carried away with this one but I said this a little while ago but Friday really didn't have much of a plot in the mv so I kinda just went with whatever felt right. I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! p.s. barely edited and written in one sitting but I figured I might as well post it lol Start from the beginning

I'm going out tonight, nothing major or anything I just wanted to go out so I can get him off my mind even if it's only for a few hours.

Walking into the restaurant I'm greeted with a big group of my colleagues and I slide in next to one of the girls while I greet everyone. A couple of minutes later we all settle back into our own separate conversations with one of the many not so comfortable ones about to start.

"You look like shit" Kayla whispers to me. She's my best friend so I'm used to her being this honest but it still comes as a surprise sometimes. "Thanks Kay" I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes at her before taking a sip of water.

"No but for real what's wrong? You've been ignoring me for the past few days and then suddenly you're inviting everyone out like nothings happened?" she questions, knowing that something's up. "What's wrong with inviting people out? I'm sorry I haven't been answering you, I've have a busy couple of days" I say, not necessarily lying but knowing that I had the time to respond to her if I wanted to.

I decided to just take what I had hoped for was a step back for a second to just do me but then I ended up dealing with Jungkook chasing me around instead so everything else just seemed like it was too much. "Whatever" Kayla says taking a sip of her beer, knowing I'm lying but deciding not to push it. If it were just the two of us I know she would shake me until I spit it out but she knows better than to do that in front of everyone.

"So y/n, how are things going? We thought that Jungkook would've come with you" one of the girls at the other end of the table says with her boyfriend right next to her nodding in agreement. "Oh he had to work late" I say giving a simple excuse hoping they'll drop it and luckily they do. Before we're able to move on though my eyes widen in horror as I see the devil himself walking into the restaurant and look around until he spots me, giving me a soft smile with an unreadable expression.

"Hey guys" Jungkook says awkwardly but comes up to sit next to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek to make things seem normal, being able to tell from my body language alone that I haven't told anyone about the breakup yet.

"Hi Noona" he whispers in my ear making me shiver. I scold myself for letting my body betray me but I can't really do much to change it anymore. I pull away from him and take another drink of water trying to cover up things but I can tell from the slight smile on his face he know he's still got a hold on me.

"Oh Jungkook! Y/n was just saying how you couldn't come because you were working late" the same girl asks, curious for an explanation. I know she means well but this girl just doesn't know when to quit. "Oh I wanted to surprise her" he says draping his arm around the back of my chair. It's luckily an answer that satisfies all of them and the conversation switches to another topic soon after.

"What are you doing here?" I turn and whisper to him, making sure the people around us definitely won't hear. "I went by the apartment and I saw that you weren't there and I got worried. You still share your location with me so I wanted to come and make sure you were okay" he says placing his hand on my thigh as a way to show his sincerity and also play the part of still being a happy couple.

"Well as you can see I'm fine so you can leave now" I say and pull back giving him a pointed look but before he can respond another person from the group speaks up. "What are you two love birds talking about over there?" one of the guys teases. "Wouldn't you like to know" Jungkook says with a smug smile taking the burden of having to come up with an excuse off of me.

"How have things been with you guys though? It's been a while since either of you have been out with us?" another girl asks. When did tonight become a ask y/n and Jungkook 20 questions? Why can't we just drink and eat and talk about anything but us, even though there's not really an 'us' right now.

"Things have been good, yeah we're- oh look the food is here!" I start but I'm thankfully given an excuse to turn the topic to something else as the waiters place all of the various side dishes in front of us as well as the raw meat to grill with everyone's minds are now focused on getting everything ready to eat.

Jungkook gets a piece of meat off the grill and adds it to his ssam and I go to do the same but as soon as I'm putting the finishing touches on mine Jungkook holds his out and offers it to me. "Open" he says, urging me to let him feed me and I give him a dead pan expression, annoyed that he would even go this far.

I look around the table and see the others taking little glances at us and commenting on how cute we are and so I turn my eyes back over to him and open my mouth for him to put in and he does so happily, watching attentively and making sure I don't choke on anything.

Once I've chewed a bit I continue filling the one I was working on and instead overfill it and hold it out for Jungkook to eat. He looks down at it, intimidated by the size but once I cock a brow at him he opens his mouth receiving it and the next second I shove it into his mouth, leaving him coughing and struggling to get it down.

"Is he okay?" one of the guys asks me. "Oh yeah he's fine don't worry about it. Aren't you honey?" I say, daring him to say otherwise and he simply holds up an 'okay' sign with his hand as he coughs and tries his best to chew and swallow everything down which annoyingly he's able to do.

"How did that taste love?" I whisper to him with a sickeningly sweet smile, payback for him showing up here even though he knew I wouldn't want him here. "Was that really necessary?" he questions after taking a few gulps of water. "Was you coming here really necessary? I told you to leave me alone" I whisper to him and at this point I sound like a broken record.

"I want to talk to you though" he responds doing just the same. "And until you let me I'm just gonna keep showing up and bothering you until you give me a chance to do so" he says, finally admitting to his nonsense tactic to getting his way, clearly making his younger age show. I stand up abruptly, and decide that I have given up on keeping up appearances and make moves to leave.

"Sorry guys I'm not feeling well so I think I'm gonna get going" I say and open my purse and hand Kayla twenty dollars to cover my part of the bill. "You okay?" she asks and I say yes but she can clearly see that I'm not. "I'll be fine guys don't worry I'm just gonna head home and get some rest" I say and when I start to walk away Jungkook follows after also following suit to give Kayla more than enough to cover for us.

"You can stay here and have fun with them" I says sweetly, putting up an act for them but using it as a threat to him. "No it's okay Jungkook go help take care of her we'll see you guys next time" one of them says but before I'm able to disagree Jungkook jumps in. "Thanks for everything guys" he responds before ushering the both of us towards the exit.

Before we step outside the door though we finally notice it's started to rain, and not just rain but a full on downpour. "When did it start raining?" I ask looking at the world outside as it looks a though it had been raining for ages already. "It looked kind of cloudy when I came in but it wasn't raining yet" he says, just as shocked by the sight.

"Lemme call us a cab" he says and pulls out his phone to do so. "No I can get one myself" I say and take a deep breath before walking out, no rain jacket, no umbrella, nothing. I just need to get away from here and away from him as soon as possible. "Y/n where are you going?" he says and runs after me and before I'm even able to try and hail a cab I can clearly see that there are none in sight.

"Just come back inside and we can wait for one and if you want we can even take separate cabs" he offers trying to meet me halfway. "No, I don't need your help" I say and blindly start walking away, hoping he will just go back inside and leave me alone "Noona wait it's too dangerous!" he calls after me but I don't even bother looking back.

"You know you're going the wrong way right?" he yells, hoping to get me to turn around and let him help me. "I don't care" I yell back and start walking faster. "Where are you going?" he yells, making sure to still stay close. "Away from you" I say and keep going on my journey to no where.

"Just let me help you get home okay, please" he begs but I don't budge, I'm gonna keep walking until he gets tired and finally leaves me alone. "You know I'm not letting you walk these streets all by yourself right? As long as you're out here I'm staying with you" he say, seeing right through me but I keep walking anyway.

~~~~~~

I keep walking and walking until we've come to that same bookshop I had been in just yesterday, finally taking notice of just how far I've walked. I finally stop and catch my breath for a second, trying to figure out what the hell kind of point I'm trying to prove here but I can't come up with one that is big enough to do something ridiculous like this.

He catches up to me a few seconds later and just stands beside me, not trying to get closer and not bothering to say anything since he knows it would probably just make me even more angry.

We stand there for a second and I look up at the sky, taking a deep breath before looking back over at him where he's just standing there and looking at the wet ground around me, not making eye contact with me either, just making sure that I know that he's going to be right here standing next to me no matter what I say.

I take another deep breath and swallow my pride before holding my hand out for him to take. He shifts his weight away from me and just stares at it for a second, trying to figure out what caused a change in heart that I would not only stop but ask for him to grab my hand.

"So you gonna take it or not?" I ask getting irritated that he's taking too long to make up his mind and at that he reaches his hand out quickly and places it in mine before looking back up at me with a questioning gaze. Instead of responding I just tug on his hand and turn us both around to walk back the way we just came and start heading back home.

~~~~

Once we get to the door I immediately grab my keys and open up, letting the both of us inside. "Fuck I'm freezing" I say taking off my shoes and stripping off my sweater, forgetting the tiny tank top I'm wearing without a bra and I don't even notice until I turn back around and see that he's staring at my chest, nipples cold and hard and when he he notices I'm staring at him he looks up at me with an intensity I haven't seen in a while.

I look at him, drinking in his figure as well seeing how soaked his white t-shirt is and how his pants are clinging to his thighs. I gulp and look back up at his face where his eyes have gotten even darker from observing how I was checking him out as well.

He takes a few steps towards me and I stumble back against a wall and am forced to watch as he takes a few steps closer until he's looking right down at me. He takes his hand and reaches for the one he had been holding before and then brings it up to his lips giving it a kiss.

"Why did you let me in?" he questions, his voice deeper and a bit strained from breathing in the cold air from the journey here. "I-i don't know" I whisper and my eyes flick down to his lips unconsciously and he takes that as a sign to keep going.

He places his other hand on my cheek and I flinch a bit at how cold it is but lean into it a few seconds later, welcoming the fluttering feeling it stirs my my stomach. He leans down and rests his forehead against mine causing me to close my eyes, feeling like I'm burning under his intense gaze.

"What are you doing to me?" he whispers and all I can do is try not to whimper in response. He tilts my chin up and brings his face closer and rubs his nose up against mine making me feel breathless at the slightest sign of intimacy no matter how small and I find myself unconsciously wrapping my arms around his neck. He in turn leans in and closes the distance between us, kissing me softly but still coaxing a whimper out of me, missing the feeling off being wanted by him.

He moulds his lips against mine and brushes his tongue along my bottom lip and I open my mouth at the feeling, letting him use his tongue to explore my mouth, making butterflies fly in my stomach and leaving me moaning softly as I welcome him in.

I take my hands off of his shoulders and feel for his jacket and start to push it off of him which he obliges and I reach for his shirt and push it up to help him take it off and he parts from my lips only for a second to slip it over his head. I touch his bare skin and even though we were so wet and cold his skin has already started to heat up leaving me not being able to take my hands off of him.

My hands travel up and down his abs and pecks that have both gotten more defined since the last I had seen them and before I'm able to think about it any more he trails his hands down my hips and continues to trail them down and grabs the inside of my thighs before he breaks apart our lips again telling me to jump and I do immediately, kissing him as he walks us both back to the bedroom.

Once we get there he helps me out of my tank top and traces his hands along my bare back while pressing me closer into him our chest now flush against each other while it almost feels like he's trying to hold me even closer, not letting go and devouring my mouth until he trails his hands along my curves and fiddles with the button of my pants and waits for me to say something before actually taking them off.

Still kissing me I part for a second and utter a hurried 'yes' before he's unzipping them and taking everything off leaving me completely bare and I help him get out of the rest of his clothes right after.

We both fall onto the bed together and never stop kissing and I part my legs for him to lay between. He runs a finger along my slit making me whimper against his lips as he teases my clit and then circles it around my entrance and then slowly slips a finger in making me let out a restrained moan, being sensitive from not having been touched by him for so long.

"Shit" he says feeling how tight I am just from putting in one finger and working it in and out of me, coaxing me to stretch out for him. "Jungkook" I whimper when he adds another digit and he swears again at how much I'm clenching around them. "Relax baby" he whispers rubbing his thumb against my clit in circles to help me calm down and open up enough so he can slip another finger in.

"I haven't fucked you properly in a while huh?" he says between kisses, curling his fingers up inside of me making a breathy moan spill past my lips as I squeeze my eyes shut. "I don't know if this tiny cunt can even take me anymore. Do you think it can?" he asks rubbing his nose up against mine while he curls his fingers inside me again.

I nod my head but he's not satisfied, "Words Noona. Do you think this pretty little cunt can take me again?" he pushes and rubs his thumb around my clit again while thrusting his fingers inside of me. "Yes" I moan out and he luckily decides not to tease any longer.

"That's a good girl" he says before taking his fingers out of me and placing them in his mouth, savoring my taste before he leans down and kisses me again "Almost forgot how sweet you taste" he says and before I'm able to even think about responding he pushes the tip inside making me let out a breathy moan.

"Fuck I missed this" he says pushing in a bit more, giving me time to adjust before going in further. "Jungkook" I whimper, not being able to focus on anything but the sensation of feeling him bare and going deeper and deeper. "I know baby, I know" he says pushing in more while placing a kiss on my temple before bottoming out.

"Looks like this pretty cunt is greedy isn't she?" he says while rubbing my clit, helping me get used to him. He rests his forehead against mine and lets labored breaths in and out, relishing in the feeling of my walls clenching around him. I nod my head and he takes it as a sign to move and he pulls out half way before pushing all the way in, setting a more gentle, sensual pace that leaves my brain fogging up with thoughts of only him.

He pulls out all the way and presses back into me inch by inch, savoring how my walls are sucking him in. "Please, faster" I say, throwing my head back on the pillow, dying from the slow building feeling of my orgasm, wanting to be granted release sooner. "Patience Noona" he taunts and he presses back in but pulls out and gives me a shallow hard thrust leaving my back arching up into him.

He quickens his pace and starts kissing on my neck, leaving marks in his wake and soon thrusting into me harder while I let out restrained moans. "No Noona let me hear you, I wanna hear you scream my name" he growls and starts thrusting into me at an animalistic pace. "Fuck Jungkook" I moan, starting to get closer to my release.

"What is it pretty?" he says slowing down the pace, leaving me whining at the feeling of my high coming down again. "No" I say throwing my head back into the pillows, hating that he robbed me of it. "No what? I just gave you a chance to tell me what you wanted, I couldn't hear you over all of your moaning" and he punctuates his sentence with a sharp thrust earning him a choked moan coming out of me and feeling me squeeze around him.

"Does Noona wanna cum?" he taunts, giving me another sharp thrust. "Jungkook please" I beg, pulling him closer to kiss him but he stops before our lips touch. "I don't know what you want me to do unless you tell me" he says, lips brushing against mine but not close enough to kiss.

"I wanna cum, please" I breathe out and at that I see a mischievous glint flash in his eyes before he kisses me and pounds into me harder than he had before and swallowing all of my moans of pleasure.

"You close?" he questions after a while, already being able to feel the answer but making me say it nonetheless. "Shit y-yes so close k-keep going" I stutter, about to tip over the edge and seconds later it all comes crashing down, leaving me arching into him and dragging my nails along his back and he groans at the feeling and cums seconds after that, fucking us both through our highs.

Once he's emptied out he keeps on thrusting until I whine from over stimulation and kisses me while he pulls out, me hating the feeling of being empty again. He lays down on top of me for a second as we both catch our breaths but soon rolls off and lays next to me while we both take a second to slow down our breathing.

Without a word he sits up and walks over to my side and scoops me up in his arms. "What are you doing?" I ask throwing my arms around his neck. "You need to go to the bathroom and then we need to clean up he says, making decisions for what I need to do before giving me an option like always but I decide not to mention it this time, staying silent and waiting for him to put me down.

He sets me down on my feet and turns around to turn on the shower and walks out into the hallway to get us both towels, giving me a bit of privacy to do my business before coming back in. When he comes back he opens the shower door for me and lets me walk in, holding on to make sure I don't fall before coming in after me.

We both stand there in the shower getting warm under the water as the doors and mirrors get fogged up in turn.

Neither of us talks for a while until he puts some body wash in his hands and lathers it up before rubbing it onto my back and shoulders, talking his time to wash me from head to toe, cleaning and massaging all of me to make sure to loosen me up so I won't get sore.

He's does this every time we have sex, or had sex since it's been a while and I welcome it, hating and loving the feeling. Feeling guilty about letting him take care of me like this when all I've done is push him away.

As he finishes up he takes my shampoo and conditioner and washes my hair as well before rinsing everything off of me and switching places with me gently so he's in the direct stream of water so he can wash himself as well.

While he has his arms up and is scrubbing his scalp I wrap my arms around him from behind and rest my cheek against his back. "This was a mistake" I mumble and at that he freezes before hurrying to rinse the shampoo out of his hair so it doesn't get in either of our eyes.

"Is that how you truly feel?" he asks, sounding disheartened but knowing that something like this was going to happen if I still wanted to push him away. "Yeah. Well, I don't know" I say, being honest with honestly not knowing how I feel.

He turns around to face me and looks down while cupping my face in both of his hands. "Do you want me to leave?" he asks, his eyes going back and forth between mine searching my face for answers and finding the one that says I want him to leave and he utters an silent okay before I even have a chance to say anything.

He opens the shower door and closes it behind him, taking one of the towels and drying off his hair quickly before wrapping it around his waist and walking out of the bathroom. I let out a pained sigh and feel a rush of emotions flood my system with senses of doubt in all of my dealings with this.

'Do I want him to go? Do I want him to stay? Do I want to be with him? Do I want to break up?' those as well as many more are the questions that go round and round in my head without answers.

The thing that breaks me out of that circular train of thought though is the sound of the front door closing behind him as he walks out and the next is the sound of my sobs as I hit the floor, finally let my heart break.

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hijackalx · 10 months

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GHOST +18

SUMMARY: Gortash helps you remember what your relationship with him was like.

WORD COUNT: 4000

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, good dark urge reader, hard dom gortash, degradation, praise kink, spanking, daddy kink, sadism and masochism, SLIGHT NONCON, some angst at the end

You watch as the crowd disperses, chattering amongst themselves. The once quiet hall becomes an echo chamber for indiscernible voices; you quickly begin to search for an escape before the socializing gives you a headache.

The coronation wasn't worth your time. You didn't even get to speak to Gortash before he disappeared into the sea of people, and your chances of finding him now are slim.

You needed so badly to speak to him about the situation at hand; you hoped he'd be willing to come to a compromise. There's little desire for conflict in your veins— is it bad to admit that sometimes you wish this weight was bestowed upon someone more combative?

You push through bodies, interrupting minglers and meaningless conversations. "Oh, I'm so wealthy!' 'Yes, yes, me as well!" you mock them under your breath, putting on your most haughty persona. The topics that enthrall patriars never quite intrigued you.

As far as you can remember, at least.

You knock shoulders with one of them, though you remain in character. "My deepest apologies, good sir," your voice comes out nasally, your nose held high with a level of snootiness.

Their hand graces your upper arm, each finger laced coldly with steel. It's not a dismissing touch, but a grab. It wraps around your bicep, holding you in place. Your body tenses, shoulders shooting upright— perhaps your impression was a bit too insulting.

"U-uh—" you laugh nervously while your eyes follow their way up to their face. Your heartbeat stutters in your chest, a stillness overcoming you like a startled rabbit.

A man stands before you; his eyes sunken, his hair cut haphazardly, his skin tanned and scarred. You know who this is.

"You," his deep voice finds you through the noise. "I've been looking for you. For a moment, I was worried that you’d left." he doesn't release you, as if he's afraid to lose you again.

"Gortash," you mutter, your gaze darting over his features. "I... was looking for you as well, actually." you're totally and utterly surprised by the fact he even acknowledged you, let alone had been seeking you out.

"Enver," he speaks, and you don't quite understand what he means until you notice the playful raise in his brow; he's correcting you. How... informal of him to suggest you call him by his first name.

He finally removes his grip from your arm. A gentle grin pulls at his lips, and he seems to try to hide it behind the wine in his glass. There's a beat of silence, and during it you catch his eyes not-so-subtly gracing over your figure. "Your dress is lovely," is all he says, and you suddenly feel that your garment is too revealing.

Your arm lays over your stomach and fastens to the other, as if that would some how barricade you from his scrutinizing gaze. So, the Archduke is a bit of a pervert— not something you expected, but something you can deal with, nonetheless.

"I, um— listen—" you begin, yet struggle to pull your thoughts together in the chaos. "Is there... somewhere else... we could talk?"

His eyes suddenly appear more lively, though there's something else inside them that you can't quite place. "Of course." he places his glass down on a nearby waiter's tray. You're shocked as he places a palm towards the middle of your back, making contact with the bare skin through the window of your dress. He guides you out of the crowd, and you're amazed at how easily he wades through it as his obstacles yield to him.

He takes you toward a dark, spiral staircase. You're not sure if he's being polite when he insists you go ahead or if he's attempting to peek up your dress, and you try not to think about it.

Once you reach the top, your body is caressed by the cool, night air. You stop in your tracks, amazed at how the city glows in the dark. You can hear the sounds of the bustling streets, and the faint hum of the gathering downstairs.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Enver's voice appears behind you and you flinch. You'd forgotten he was there. "As are many things that bend so pliantly to my will."

You turn around to meet his eyes, how they look up at you from under his brow, steady and ravenous. There's a pit that opens up in your stomach— his plans are sinister, and you need the upcoming conversation to be enough to stop them.

Suddenly, you're attacked by a barrage of self-doubt. What a heavy task for someone as measly as you.

The wind blows through the both of you, pulling at your hair and clothing as if saying to stop stalling. Your eyes flit to the ground once before allowing him to lead you further.

He opens another door for you, this one leading to what you believe is an office. Your bodies are bathed in the warm candlelight as you enter. You approach the long, many-seated table in the immediate vicinity as the sound of him closing the large doors fills the chamber.

You observe the architecture, feeling a sense of awe at being in the presence of such expensive tastes. Enver walks around you, heading to a compartment holding many different kinds of liquor. "I keep the good stuff in here," he comments, the bottle in his grasp clinking against the others as it's removed. "Although, I rarely have the pleasure of sharing it with guests as enchanting as yourself."

His words seem to carry an implication of familiarity. You turn to him with a raised brow. "You know why I'm here?" Your mind flits back to earlier— you remember him saying something about looking for you as well.

With a still hand he pours the cinnamon-colored liquid into both of your glasses. He doesn't look up as he responds, "Do you really believe me to be so dull?" he lets out a small laugh, placing the cork back into the bottle. "Besides, my intuition tells me we both want the same thing."

"... We do?" you mutter in disbelief. Had you been wrong about him? Is he really willing to hear you out so easily?

He hands you your glass. "We do." he raises his drink to you as if to toast, then brings it to his mouth. As he lets the drink disappear down his throat, his eyes remain on yours. This time, you feel that you may be able to trust whatever is behind them.

You join him with a small sip, and there is a short moment shared between you two. You notice just how close he's standing to you, but for some reason you don't step away. Your gaze falters from his own, shakily sneaking a glance at his lips, then his neck, and his exposed chest...

You stop there, quickly darting your pupils back upwards. You notice him still staring, and you wonder if perhaps your eyes explored just a bit too much.

Flustered, you turn around and place your palms on the table. "I—I'm sorry, this is just... a bit much for me." you try to compose yourself, feeling the start of your proposal bubbling to the surface. With a sigh, you begin, "Gor— Enver, I wanted to discuss the future of—"

You can't get any more words out— not even a sound. Your eyes widen, your temperature rising throughout your entire body like a surging wildfire. The only thing you can focus on is his lips on your neck and his body pressed against yours as he pins your hands to the tabletop.

Your breath quivers, heart in your throat. What is happening?

His mouth begins making its way downwards. You shiver out of your frozen state. With a swift, freeing elbow to his ribcage, you turn and shove him away from you.

He stumbles backward, the emotions on his face cycling too quickly for you to make something of it. Eventually, anger is the one that settles and stays. "What in the hells is the matter with you?!"

Your hand grips the glass on the table tightly, ready to use it as a weapon if you must. "I— what's the matter with me?! You just came onto me! I don't even know you!"

"What else did you expect, you little—" A crease forms between his brows. "... You don't know who I am?" his voice appears more softly, harboring confusion.

"Well, yes, you are the Archduke— but you know what I mean! Y-you don't just walk up to any stranger with their back turned and start kissing their neck!"

He glances away for a moment, shoulders relaxing as he finds the answers he's seeking inside the night’s prior instances. "You and I are hardly strangers, my dear."

You go quiet.

No— your memory can't have failed you again, not here. Not with him. You'd remember, surely you would.

With an inquiring grin, he approaches you slowly. "So it’s true. How curious." he studies you as if you're a freshly discovered specimen. "If you don't remember what we were, do you even remember what you are?"

His words rattle you to your core. To imply that your relationship with him was so deeply intertwined with who you once were— it almost makes you sick.

"You're lying," you respond quickly, regardless of whether you think he is or not. You won't accept otherwise.

"Am I?" he stops mere inches from your face, as if to allow you to see the truth through his eyes. They delve into yours, carrying an intensity that yours lack, a confidence that you wish wasn't there.

He hums. "Allow me to jog your memory." with a deep inhale, he opts to press his lips against yours. Your trembling body leans into the table behind you, backing further and further away from him until you can't anymore. He kisses you, and for some reason, you let him. You don't make any extravagant attempts to rid yourself of him— instead, you allow him to have you, as if on instinct.

The kiss lasts a few seconds, and he lingers for a moment before pulling away. You feel an emptiness on your lips, your fingertips leaving the glass at your side to reach up and gently inspect the area.

"First, we were accomplices. You, a chosen of Bhaal; I, a chosen of Bane,” he looks you directly in the face as he speaks, making sure you’re listening intently. “After so much time together, we took an interest in each other, particularly each other's bodies," he explains, "We were so young and knew so little— but we learned from each other. Experimented with each other—"

You shift underneath where he has you trapped against the table. You sink into yourself, your chin tucking down in shame. You're not sure how you feel about all of this, but you do know that there's a growing warmth between your thighs.

Even if your mind fails to remember what you two did together, your body knows.

His head tilts so that he speaks into your ear. "And, Gods, the things you'd let me do to you," as if reliving the memory, he almost moans, the lilt to his tone making your stomach lurch.

”N-no…” you mumble, though there is little substance behind the word.

He lowers himself, his mouth hovering over your neck once again. His breaths fan your sensitive skin before pressing his lips to it.

You twitch, your hand involuntarily coming up to rest in his hair. He hears how your breath hitches, and you feel him smile against you as he sucks softly.

His restless hand finds itself on your thigh, slipping into the slit of your dress. The cold material of his gauntlets raises goose bumps on your skin, your muscles tensing every time he reaches just inches from your core.

He pulls his lips from you with a pop, slightly breathless.

"It became an addiction. We'd meet up at every opportunity— almost every night just to fuck," he says with enough emphasis to make you realize just how filthy your past together was. “Hells, I even remember asking you what your father thought of his prized offspring becoming my personal little whore."

You burn hot with embarrassment, though some part of you likes the name he's given you. "... a- and?" you hate yourself for playing into whatever this is, but you can't help it. You want him to keep talking.

He laughs, "you said you didn't give a shit. Can you imagine that? Daddy's little girl willing to sacrifice everything just so she wouldn't have to go a day without me fucking her into the mattress.” he gives you a lift onto the table, both of his hands roughly pulling your thighs apart so he can place himself between them.

As if acting on its own, you fail to notice how your body arches into him, begging for his touch. "Enver..." you moan quietly, the sensation feeling so familiar on your tongue. The memories he describes to you seem so real yet so distant. You want to remember them, to experience them.

His chest rises and falls quicker by the minute. As his hand comes up to direct you by your jaw, the gold points on his fingertips leave indents in your skin. "You have no idea how elated I was to get news of your reappearance. I don't have words to explain how badly I've missed you— your body."

Unable to compose himself any longer, he finally stops teasing and slams his mouth into yours. He's aggressive and rough; the biting, smacking your teeth together kind of rough. You struggle to keep up with him, balancing yourself with an arm over his shoulders until he pushes you onto your back. Impatiently, he rips his sharp gauntlets from his hands, the objects landing somewhere on the floor with a clatter.

He runs his bare hands over the curves of your body, taking in the sight as if it's the first time. You lift your back as he reaches for the zipper of your dress, his adrenaline-ridden fingers fumbling before undoing it successfully. You help him wriggle yourself out of it.

The cold air hits your exposed breasts, your nipples erect and sensitive. His calloused thumb brushes over one before he tightly squeezes your tit, an obvious attempt to hear your voice. He's delighted when you gasp in both pain and pleasure, his mouth meeting yours to devour the sound. He then quickly trails down your neck to pepper kisses over your chest.

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, purposefully grazing it with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. Your hand tangles in his messy hair, lifting yourself into him.

His opposite hand sneaks into your panties, toying with your clit in a cruel fashion. He pinches and teases, refusing to give you what you want. Frustrated, you reach down to move his hand out of the way, to which he grabs and restrains. You try the same with the other, and he repeats.

"Insubordinate little slut," he mumbles under his breath as he pushes his knee between your legs, providing pressure but no friction. "You want to do it yourself?" he says meanly, slightly irritated by your actions.

You immediately begin rubbing against his thigh, finally feeling some relief. You exhale, feeling waves of pleasure course through you.

He peers down between your bodies to watch, his erection prominent in his pants. "Fuck, that's right. Show me how badly you need it."

Your hips eventually start to stutter, unable to continue as you lose yourself in the sensation. "I- I can't," you whine, unsatisfied as you fail to keep your rhythm.

He smiles sadistically at how you struggle. "Oh, you can't?" he pouts mockingly. "Poor thing."

You know what he wants, it sits in the back of your mind, ready without second thought. You've been here before. "P-please,” you choke out. "Please, I need you. Fuck me, please," your voice comes out pathetically, happy to continue begging until you get what you desire.

As if on cue, he flips you onto your stomach, your ass stuck in the air and your cheek pressed to the hardwood. He takes your arm and folds it behind your back, holding you in place. "You say that like I was going to give you a choice." You see how he leers down at you through the corner of your eye, a wolfish look on his features. You don't know how much truth there is to his words, but your pussy flutters anyway.

He runs a finger over your folds, the friction from your underwear making you jump. You whimper his name, completely at his mercy. With a huff, he rips your panties off of you, splitting the delicate fabric in half.

Pausing for a moment, he admires the glistening wetness between your thighs. He kicks your feet apart further to spread you open, using his finger to circle your clit before covering the digit in your essence. You watch as he sticks it in his mouth, cleaning it off with his tongue. He lets out a content sigh, savoring the taste.

You whine while deepening the arch in your back, presenting yourself to him further.

His brows furrow. Picking up your torn panties, he wads them up and shoves them in your mouth. It extends your jaw fully, making it impossible to spit them out. "Shut up," he growls. "You'll get what you want when I feel like giving it to you."

You can taste yourself on the ripped garment, feel how wet you are with your tongue. Your saliva begins to dampen it by the second, and it’s only a matter of time before it drips past the barrier.

The sound of him disrobing fills the air. Your irises roll back behind corkscrewed eyelids, anticipating what is to come with little patience.

The gag muffles your sounds as you feel his length drag between your thighs, parting your puffy folds. Your hole contracts spastically, desperate for him.

Then, he slams into you without warning. You scream, writhing beneath him as his dick forcibly stretches you out. The pain is almost unbearable as you feel tears start to materialize.

He balances himself on the table with his free hand, letting out a long, shuddering breath. "Fuck." He takes a moment before moving. There is no slow build-up, his pace is aggressive and hard from the very start. He fucks you like he absolutely hates you, and you suppose it's possible that he does. If what he says is true, then you abandoned him. Not on purpose, but you still did.

His cock moves in a shoveling motion, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You send your body back to him every time he reenters you, rocking in sync. It feels natural— it feels good. As you adjust, you realize that you fit together perfectly; two puzzle pieces that were never meant to be apart. Suddenly, his dependence on you makes so much more sense.

You gasp as he grabs a fistful of your hair, roughly pulling your head upward. He holds you there uncomfortably as he speaks into your ear, "if you ever leave me again," he pauses to catch his breath, "I'll fucking kill you. Do you understand?"

Nodding your head is not enough for him. He rips your underwear from your mouth. "yes, what?"

Your breathing is ragged and high-pitched as you're finally allowed to use your mouth again. "Yes, daddy!" you assume that must be what he made you call him before, based on how it forces its way past your teeth. You're sure he gets some kind of power-trip from it, perhaps he's envious of your previous devotion to your father.

“It seems you remember more than I thought.” he uses his thumb to wipe the drool from your swollen lip, then massages the spot where he yanked your hair. "Good. You're doing so good."

His unexpected praise makes your pussy tighten around him, milking him, begging for him to come.

He lets out a deep, throaty moan. "Gods, you feel fucking amazing." his palm makes contact with your ass, a sharp smack echoing through the tall ceilings of the office. You yelp, your fingernails clawing at the tabletop. You can feel the hand-shaped welt forming right away, the stinging sensation rising to the top of your skin. "You like how daddy fucks you?"

He asks just as you feel yourself reaching your climax. It builds in your lower stomach, bubbling in your chest. "Y-yes!" you cry. "Please don't stop! Just like that!"

Cruel man that he is, he does the exact opposite of what you ask. He stops, pulling out of you and leaving you feeling empty. Ushering you up, he switches places with you and grabs you by your wrist, guiding you onto his lap.

He looks at you through his brow, cheeks flushed, breaths erratic, yet with a smirk playing at his lips. "Work for it," he orders, holding himself up with his palms on the tabletop.

As you lower yourself onto his length, he watches you intently, brushing your unruly hair out of your face. Your cheek is red and swollen from being pressed into the table, and he gives it a few condescending pats. "You look a mess, dearest," he laughs.

You ignore him, focused on taking him in. You do it slower than he did, but he remains patient for you. You suppose that's his act of kindness for the day.

Balancing on your knees, you start bouncing in his lap. Your hands hold onto his shoulders, watching how he slides in and out of you. A creamy, white liquid has been created between the two of you, coating his shaft and your entrance.

His attention remains on your face— sometimes shifting to your tits, but mostly your face. You eventually notice, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze. Placing a hand to the back of your head, he pulls you in for a kiss. You cup his face with your palms, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue grazes the inside of your teeth.

He breaks the kiss along with a line of saliva. His nose finds the crook of your neck, resting there as he pulls your bodies flush together. Your arms rest over his broad shoulders, occasionally digging your nails into his skin. He seems at peace with you in his grasp, holding you near. It’s in this moment that you truly feel just how much he missed you, worried for you, yearned for you. You realize that your relationship may have been more than just sex to him, even if not officially so.

He lets out a broken groan as he reaches his climax. His grip becomes almost painfully tight, taking your waist into his strong arms to fuck you again as he releases a thick load of cum inside you. The warm substance coats your walls as you tense around him.

His orgasm encourages your own. Squirming in his grasp, you throw your head back. You never imagined yourself crying out a series of his name, but here you are, and you never imagined it would be so sweet on your tongue. He keeps you in place with his hands on your hips, helping you ride it out.

You rest your weary body on his, your cheek against the sticky skin of his shoulder. Although, you don’t rest easy. There’s a heaviness to your heart, a guilt.

You can’t be the woman he knew— you’ve changed. The things you want are no longer the same, and you’ll betray him without even meaning to. He’s in love with a ghost, one that you just can’t pretend to be.

In the end, you’re in each other’s way, and you always will be. Whatever is between you two is an obstacle, and it’s destined to be destroyed.

#enver gortash #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #enver gortash x dark urge #dark urge #durgetash #enver gortash x reader #enver gortash x tav #gortash

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kaely1916 · 2 months

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ONE FOOT IN THE TOMB👣❤️

Context: during a case. Edwin steps on a bomb that destroys ghosts. Charles is far from well.

"Fuck."

"W-what happened?"

*Charles immediately panicked. Edwin almost never cursed, so whatever caused him to do it now, couldn’t be good.*

"Charles, don't move! Crystal, come closer if you’re so kind."

*Crystal approached and, following Edwin's instructions, confirmed what Edwin feared. There was a rare spore capable of consuming and killing ghosts just behind his left foot.*

"Charles, I need you to get a book from our office."

"You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you here alone, mate."

"As long as I stay in the same position, everything will be okay. Besides, I want you as far from me as possible right now."

"🥺"

"You know what I mean."

"B-but—"

*Charles tried to get closer to Edwin.*

"NO, Charles, step back! You know how dangerous this situation is. I want you far from me if the worst case happens."

"Don’t you EVER say that again. Not when the worst case means your existence being banished."

"Charles..."

"NO, Edwin! I’m not going anywhere without you."

*Charles said, sitting on the floor a few meters away. Eventually, Crystal had to go to the office on foot, which was hours away.*

"You’re being incredibly ridiculous and stubborn."

"Yeah, yeah, sure thing, mate."

"I’M SERIOUS CHARLES!"

"SO AM I! There is no way in hell I’m leaving you alone. So shut it and bear it, because I’m staying."

*Edwin couldn’t do anything more than what Charles said, while his chest warmed from the other’s words, giving him hope that everything would end alright. But as time passed, everything worsened, and even when it shouldn’t be possible, his legs began to tremble from supporting his weight in the same position for so long.*

"Fuck... Charles, I need you to listen to me and do exactly what I say."

"Mate, I already told you that—"

"CHARLES! I can’t even feel my legs anymore... I’m not going to bear it for much longer. Please, please, PLEASE, I need to know that you are safe, that you will be okay. Please, just leave."

"...Edwin, like I already said, there is no future in where I leave you here, mate."

*Charles said in a sweet voice while walking toward Edwin, ears closed to the other’s pleads and screams. Until he was right in front of Edwin, his arms rose to embrace him in a tight hug, allowing Edwin to rest his weight against his body.*

"You are such an incorrigible nincompoop."

*Edwin said, his eyes watering as he gave up and rested his body in the other’s embrace.*

"Hehe, I haven’t heard that one in a long time... Just remember that we are together in everything, in this too."

"Quite literally right now, thanks to someone."

"What can I say? It seems like I can’t be apart from you."

"Really, Charles? You think now is the moment for your foolish flirting?"

"Oh, excuse me, Mister 'I’m confessing my love on the stairs of hell.' Besides, don’t act as if you don’t love it~"

"I don’t. I think it’s almost as horrendous as using a vegetable as an affectionate nickname."

"Pff are you still mad about me calling you ‘Pumpkin’? It’s cute, like you."

"I strongly disagree."

"Whatever you say, mate, whatever you say. Just remembe, toguether until the end of existence do us apart"

*Charles said, kissing Edwin’s head and enjoying the happiness of their embrace. Some time later, when Crystal returned with an antidote to save the situation, she found the two ghosts holding each other as if their lives depended on it. Which, to be fair, in this situation, they kind of did.*

The End~

#painland #charles x edwin #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #payneland #charles rowland

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razorblade180 · 4 months

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9 days of Lancaster Day 4: Aftermath

Being a hero isn’t easy, Ruby never thought it was. However, she wished someone told her how much harder it was when walking through sand daily. With another eventful day behind her, Ruby retires to her room and goes limp onto her bed.

knock knock knock

Ruby:I will eat dinner later, Yang.

Jaune:Ummm, guess again?

Ruby raises up like a zombie out of horror film and sits on the edge of the bed. Jaune had been turning in early since they returned and things immediately got pretty busy, so him knocking on her door was a big surprise. She tells him to come in and the knight slowly enters before shutting the door and leaning against it.

Ruby:Heeeyyy…

Jaune:Heh, hi. You…holding up well?

Ruby:Being popular around here is an adjustment alongside the heat, but yeah. I’d say so.

Jaune:Good. That’s good….

Ruby:…Umm so how are you?

Jaune:Ups and downs. It’s funny; somedays I dreamed about coming back but now that it’s happened it feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I’m gonna wake up one day and be right back where I started.

Ruby:Hey, this is real. We’re back. You’re back.

Jaune:I know. It’s an adjustment I guess.

Ruby:You’re telling me. Nothing quite feels like it used to. But…maybe that’s good? At least I hope so.

Jaune:…..Ruby, about what I said, I-

Ruby:Jaune, it’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for. I bottled things up until it popped, while you could only echo your worries. If anything I should apologize for the things I said.

Jaune:Heh, well that doesn’t seem fair.

He walked over and sat right next to her. The both of them sighed.

Jaune:I’m sorry I made you cry. You’re selfless and I pinned my problems on you when I shouldn’t have.

Ruby:…I’m a little selfish. We both weren’t our best selves in that moment. Jaune? Are we going to be okay?

Jaune:I’m sure you’ll-

Ruby:Stop excluding yourself!

Jaune:…

Ruby:Look, I…*wipes eyes* I know there’s a lot for us to unpack; a lot for you to process after years of solitude. I can’t imagine that at all and I know you’ve heard countless times that everyone is here for you, so let me make this clear. Jaune, I need you. I wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t by my side. You’ve been by my side when others weren’t; all the way back to blowing up the courtyard.

Jaune:Heh, gods that feels like forever ago.

Ruby:Bit by bit I’m gonna work on myself. It’ll be tough but I don’t want to lose what matters to me, so please, never stop fighting your battles. Don’t do it alone; believe you’ll be okay because I don’t know what I would do without you in my li-

In the midst of fear and tears, Jaune took her breath away. His hands gently held her face as he pressed his lips against hers; an action that immediately made Ruby swell with emotion. Tears flowed more as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned deeply into the kiss. Despite what people think, Ruby always found it difficult to put her thoughts into words. Fortunately, her words reached and her actions were more than enough. The way her tears spoke her concerns while her grip on a worn hoodie expressed her yearning for him to stay right by her. Her body shivered yet still melted in his embrace. Only time could tell how comfortable things between them would be, but at least one desire came through crystal clear.

“Don’t leave me. Never leave me.”

#rwby #rwby lancaster #9 days of lancaster 2024 #9 days of lancaster #ruby rose #jaune

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ervans · 2 years

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cw: influencer!ellie x f!reader, smut, sex-tape, filming sexual activity, spit, semi-rough(?) sex, strap-on usage, choking, degrading, squirting.

a/n: im finally posting something?? and it’s smut?? gonna post this and sit in shame

unapologetically thinking about influencer!ellie having a sex tape leaked. she’d be well known for her commentary videos and semi-frequent streams where she gamed, which is how she ended up meeting you through some mutual friends. her fanbase knew you as her shy, sweet girlfriend who wouldn’t dare hurt a fly.

of course being with someone in the spotlight came with lots of speculation regarding your relationship, including more intimate things such as sex. quite frankly, everyone thought you were vanilla. and while yes, you and ellie didn’t mind taking things slow and being more “basic” occasionally, that speculation couldn’t be more far from the truth. and her fans found out in the, best for them and worst for you, way possible. you and ellie had talked about filming during sex before, her being an influencer meant traveling frequently and often led to nights where you’d have to soothe the ache between your legs alone.

so yeah, having a video of her railing you into next year would be nice. she started filming the tape about midway through your session. you were on your hands and knees, camera pointed at her strap slewing in and out of your sopping core. if you looked close enough you could see a white ring starting to form around the base of the light purple silicon. her soft pants and grunts somehow being heard over the noises emitting from you. “f-fuck ellie- god yes” you’d somehow manage to spew out as her hips piston, hitting that spot that made you see stars. “yeah baby? you like that huh?” she’d pant out in response, flipping the camera so you could see her face, red and sweaty, pupils so blown with arousal, barely any green was visible. she’d keep the camera pointed at her face for a bit longer, knowing you liked seeing her expressions when she fucked you.

she then flipped both you and the camera over so your body was on full display. bruises littered all over your neck, chest, and stomach, lips parted glistening with spit (you had been drooling, that’s how well she was fucking you). making sure her hand was in frame, she brought it up to your neck, wrapping her fingers around you tight enough it was sure to leave a mark. “open your mouth baby” she commanded. and who were you to disobey, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out so it rested against your bottom lip. “fuck, you’re such a good little slut, you know that right? of course you do” she’d say as she moved her mouth around gathering spit. at this point she had stopped moving her hips, strap still inside you as she leaned over your body and puckered her lips. slowly the drop of spit fell from her mouth, the lighting making it glisten in the camera as it fell onto your awaiting tongue. you greedily swallowed and both you and ellie let out a moan as you licked your lips, not wanting to waste a single drop.

ellie started moving her hips again slowly, one hand still holding the camera while the other held your neck. as she started thrusting faster, you felt a heat creep up in your belly and a familiar coil begin to tighten. “m-more ellie more, please please, i need it” you gasped and moaned, her hand tightening around your neck as she slammed into you at a brutal pace. she quickly let go of your neck, grabbing a pillow and shoving it under your hips so she could thrust into you deeper. “yeah, you like being used as my fuck toy huh? look so pretty under me, being a good girl and letting me fuck you the way i want” she groaned, gathering more saliva in her mouth and spitting it right onto your clit. she brought the hand that had been around your neck down and used her thumb to rub circles over your spit covered nerve. you cried out incoherent sentences as you tumbled over the edge, vision going blurry as you squirted all over the silicon and ellies hips. she ended the video tossing her phone onto the nightstand as she started to slowly clean you up.

it wasn’t until about two weeks later that the video got leaked. ellie was away on a trip doing some shoot when you got a text from her saying it had somehow got released and was making its rounds on twitter. sure enough, when you opened the app you came face to face with, probably the hottest homemade porn video you could’ve thought of and tweets admitting that boy oh boy were we wrong about ellie williams girlfriend.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #tlou

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frudoo · 4 months

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Mister Asylum — Simon “Ghost” Riley

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, hospitilization.

Patient!Simon Riley x Fem!Nurse!Reader

1 | 2

Simon always knew that his life would end this way—head pressed against the barrel of a waiting gun, emotionless eyes staring straight ahead, preparing. He never expected it to be by his own hand, though he couldn’t let himself be surprised, could he? Years of abuse, trauma, bloodshed, scorn. He’s hardly a saint. This ending is better than the one he expected, for himself, for the rest of the world. Maybe even more merciful than the death he truly deserves.

He sits with his legs criss-crossed in the middle of his living room that remains decorated with nothing more than a simple glass top coffee table and a sofa opposite of him. No rug or carpet that blood could soak into, no stains that the next homeowners would be plagued by having to deal with. Easy cleanup for the crime scene crew once the authorities would inevitably be called. It would be as if he never even lived there—a ghost resident whose demise would never be revealed even to those riddled with the most morbid curiosity.

Simon is so lost in his own calculations, that he doesn’t process the turn of a spare key in the lock of his front door as he digs the pistol further into his temple, jaw clenched so tightly that the tendon is sore. He didn’t anticipate that Johnny had decided to visit, and he surely didn’t expect the gun to be knocked out of his hand and his large body to be tackled to the floor by his sergeant. The weapon goes off but the bullet doesn’t blast through his skull like he’d planned—instead, it fires at the couch cushion and settles in the fuzzy depths, right where he would usually sit on a lazy afternoon.

He almost doesn’t process the way Johnny’s tears spill onto his pale, maskless face, the way the Scotsman holds his wrists down above his head and against the wooden tile with one hand as he calls Captain Price with the other. Not that Simon needed to be held down. He was far too weary and defeated to fight. His voice was stuck in his raw, aching throat until the sergeant cupped his face in his hands, desperation and anger written on his features.

“Shoulda let m’go, Johnny,” Simon rasps, blank brown eyes staring at the ceiling, unwilling to look his best mate in the eye.

“Ne’er, LT,” Johnny lightly smacks the lieutenant’s cheeks affectionately, once-bright blue eyes now tinged with worry as they dart between his friend and the door.

The captain eventually arrives and helps Johnny escort Simon outside, into his truck. The three men sit in silence in the driveway for a while until John speaks up.

“You understand we can’t let you be alone anymore,” his usual gruff voice softened with something akin to sadness—sympathy, maybe.

“Yes, sir,” Simon nods, hands clasped together, resting in his lap.

“Nor can we let you go on any missions. Protocol won’t allow it, and quite frankly, I’m worried you’d put yourself in harm’s way purposefully. I can’t have you or my other men getting hurt,” Price sighs, running a large hand down his face and covering his mouth, lost in thought.

“Understood, sir,” The lieutenant grunts, trying to ignore the sound of Johnny’s sniffles beside him.

“I’ve spoken with Laswell as well as my own superiors, and we’ve come to the conclusion that… institutionalization would be the best course of action.”

Simon falls silent. Take him out of the field, fine. Keep him company to make sure he’s alright, great. But being thrown into the looney bin feels more like retribution than treatment. His fists clench and he can feel the captain’s watchful eyes on him in the rearview mirror.

“Simon, this- I hope you know this wasn’t an easy decision for anyone to make. I’d much sooner call a missile strike than put you somewhere other than under my protection. But unfortunately my hands are tied.”

“Simon, ye ‘ave tae listen. Please,” Johnny rests his hand on top of one of Simon’s, trying not to let out a sob at the trembling he feels in his superior. “We need ye ‘ere.”

This isn’t right. None of this shit would have happened if he had just pulled the trigger sooner. Simon’s mind is nothing short of a maelstrom wreaking its havoc, screaming at him to jump out of this truck and book it to the nearest bridge to jump off of. He might have done just that if his body wasn’t vibrating with frustration and helplessness and blinding regret—or maybe it’s just the hot tears that blur his vision and render him unable to move or even breathe properly.

“You’re as good as a son to me, Simon. Let us do this for you. For us,” John sniffs, and if he didn’t know any better, Simon might have thought his captain was crying. “You don’t have another choice.”

Simon doesn’t speak again, rather gives a single nod to signal his compliance. An order is an order no matter how badly he wants to ignore it. All he wants to do is melt and allow the backseat of Price’s truck to absorb him. It all seems like far too much fuss just for him, an assassin, scum of the earth, a waste of precious space. He settles for blinking the tears out of his eyes and looking out the window, even allowing Johnny to keep a calloused hand on top of his own. John calls the hospital and lets them know they’ll be getting an intake.

The drive to Shadywood Hospital is a silent one save for the occasional sniffle or sigh, or the rattle of the truck’s tailgate on a particularly bumpy road. Nobody dares say anything out of fear that they’ll offend one of the other men. The last thing Price and Johnny want to do is make the situation worse, and Simon isn’t the kind to open up about his troubles, even more so now that his plan has been obliterated. He’s supposed to be a strong, unyielding leader—fearless, not this shell of a soldier who let his pain and misery take over. He used to be precisely that: an unstoppable, unbreakable force. He’s not sure when exactly that changed.

The exterior of the hospital is about as dull and lifeless as Simon expected, mossy overgrowth clinging to the weathered brick structure. It looks like something straight out of an old horror film, he thinks. All it needs is some thunderstorm sound effects and perhaps a murder of crows to warn of his impending doom. No such luck. Maybe even the darkest of forces don’t deem him worthy of such caution. Maybe even the most heinous of monsters would ridicule and cast out the enigma that he is.

“Out ye get, LT,” Johnny pats him on one broad shoulder, trained eyes scanning the lieutenant’s face for any hint of emotion be it sadness or fury.

Simon remains stoic as he steps out of the truck, batting away Price and Johnny’s hands that try to usher him inside. Not a bloody child, he thinks, though the petulance with which he crosses his arms would suggest otherwise. When the rush of cold air hits his face, he’s suddenly aware of just how naked he is without his mask and he turns around with a shake of his head.

“Not goin’ in,” he mutters, scratching at the tattoos on his left forearm so hard that he peels the skin.

Johnny grabs Simon’s wrist to get him to stop, frowning at the sight of his nails, sharp and much longer than he usually keeps them. He’s unsure of how nobody noticed that their beloved Ghost had stopped taking care of himself. John sighs and runs a hand through his hair, contemplating before nodding firmly.

“I’m sure they have a mask in there. I’ll go grab one for you, yeah?” He grins softly, patting Simon’s back fondly before stepping inside.

“Ye’ll be alreit, ye ken,” Johnny steps in front of Simon, hands resting firmly on his biceps to get him to meet his eyes. “Ye ‘ave tae be. Ye’re Ghost. Ye’re me brother.”

Simon chokes back a sob, teary eyes fixed on the darkening clouds in the dreary sky to avoid showing his weakness. It breaks him to see his sergeant so worried about him. He doesn’t deserve his pity, his fear. Price comes back before Johnny can force Simon to say anything in response.

“Here you are,” John hums, handing Simon the flimsy mask and offering him a gentle chuckle. “Black, just for you.”

Simon nods again, adjusting the flexible metal in the surgical material to fit the crooked bridge of his nose. Feeling a little less exposed, he sucks in a deep breath and turns on his heel to trudge into the hospital. The fluorescent lights nearly blind him and he furrows his eyebrows, blinking through the pain before focusing his eyes on the receptionist.

“Simon Riley,” he breathes, and the lady nods with a soft smile.

“Yes, sir. If you’ll have a seat over there, the intake nurse will be right out. Would you like your mates to-”

“Yes,” he cuts her off, nodding towards Price and Johnny who stand beside him like bodyguards. “Sorry. Yes. I’d like them to be in there with me. Please.”

“Of course,” she nods once more, offering the three men another small grin.

Simon, Price, and Johnny all sit in the waiting area impatiently. The sergeant looks around nervously while the lieutenant stays still as a statue, eyes focused on the floor. John sniffs and rubs his clammy palms on his jeans. Simon can’t remember the last time he’s seen the captain this anxious, and knowing he caused it makes him feel even worse. He shouldn’t have hesitated; he should have just pulled the trigger immediately upon holding the gun to his head. There wouldn’t have been this much trouble for the team.

The sliding doors part with a mechanical whir and heavy footsteps rush in, boots squeaking against the linoleum floor. Simon wasn’t going to pay it any mind, but Johnny stands up and goes to greet the person with a hug. He only looks up when he feels a hand on his shoulder, eyes meeting deep brown ones much like his own. Kyle.

“Simon,” Kyle whispers, placing his other hand on the lieutenant’s opposite shoulder. “Price called.”

Another wave of shame washes over Simon and he suddenly can’t bring himself to maintain eye contact with his other sergeant. He doesn’t deserve this kind of support, especially not from the entire task force. His throat closes up and it gets hard to breathe. He’s trapped in his head, locked in place, and the walls are closing in. The tears threaten to spill despite his struggle to hold them back, burning at the brink of his waterline. It’s too much, he’s suffocating, he’s about to snap-

As if right on cue, the nurse comes in and calls his name. He jumps up, shoving past Kyle to follow the woman behind the protected doors without looking back. The other three follow close after and stand with their backs to the wall, intently listening to the questions Simon is asked. The lieutenant almost laughs—he’s usually on the other side of the interrogation table.

Simon fills out the countless pages of paperwork with a shaking hand, carefully sliding the clipboard back to the nurse. He feels so small, so pathetic, having this many people watch over him like he’s a sickly babe. In a way, he supposes he is—the only difference is that an infant is worth saving.

“With the information you’ve given me, Mr. Riley, we will be admitting you effective immediately. Your progress will determine the length of your stay. We’ll be monitoring you closely each day to see how you’re doing, alright?” The nurse tilts her head sympathetically, cusping her hand over one of Simon’s. “We’re gonna get you feeling better, sir.”

Simon nods slowly, nervous eyes flickering past the woman to look between his three mates. They all have the same solemn expression on their face, each fidgeting with a different finger or article of clothing. He thinks they’d rather be getting shot at in a foreign country than here, coddling this grown man who doesn’t know how to handle his emotions. He would, too.

“I’ll give the four of you a couple of minutes to chat while I go get your bracelet ready, yeah?” The nurse excuses herself, slipping past the two sergeants that stand on either side of the door.

The men are silent, none of them exactly sure of what to say or do until Simon finally breaks down, his head falling into his hands. Pesky tears he’d been trying so hard to fight off stream down his face and soak into his mask, his broad shoulders shaking with every raspy sob that dares rip from his throat. John immediately pushes himself off the wall and embraces his lieutenant who, for the first time this evening, doesn’t bother fighting him off. Price’s large hand cradles Simon’s head to his clothed midriff, the other patting his back like a father would calm a colicky baby.

“I’ve got you, Simon. You’re gonna be alright,” John whispers, fighting back tears of his own.

The captain hasn’t seen Simon cry like this for what seems like centuries. He never wanted to witness it again, but the hidden memories come flooding back in as he presses his cheek to the top of the blond man’s head. He had sworn from the moment he met Simon that he’d never allow any harm to come to him. He’d keep every enemy away, train him perfectly so that he could protect himself. He never considered that his lieutenant’s own mind could be deemed an enemy.

Johnny can’t stand the sight any longer—he shoves the door open and books it out of the hospital, back sliding down against the cracked brick as he brings his knees to his chest. Kyle follows quickly after, sitting beside his fellow sergeant, silent and seething, angry at himself for being so clueless. How could none of them, not one, see that Simon was doing so poorly?

Simon notes their absence even in the comforting arms of the only father figure he’s ever known.

#cw: suicidal ideation #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw3 #Spotify

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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years

Text

“𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕐𝕠𝕦 & 𝕀”

𝚂𝚎𝚡 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚒 𝚡 𝙱𝚕𝚔!𝙵𝚎𝚖 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Based off this drawing

Ct: @/zoro-kun for the MDNI boarder <3

CW: Vaginal sex, Semi(?) Public sex, Shotgunning, Gropping, Needy!Reader, Soft!Dom Sanji, Oral (MtoF), Dirty(?)Talk, Tiddy gropping, Kinda Aftercare, but you’re sleep, Pet Names

Bad Summary: Sanji finally gets his alone time with you after being separated for so long.

“This is beautiful, Ji..”

You were astounded by the scenery, the entire area filled with falling Sakura petals, the steam from the onsen complimenting the blue hue from the water below it. It was all too good to be true.

“I’m glad you like it.” Sanji grins from behind, untying your robe to reveal your VERY small bikini your pervy boyfriend insisted you wore. “I had to do a few favors to make sure it was just us tonight.”

You turn your head to look at him in shock, “Just us? Wait you did wh—“

As much as your curiosity was cute to him he didn’t want you worrying about what he already had handled. So he hushed you with a passionate kiss, “Don’t fret, my love.”

From convincing to crew to stay a far distance as well as paying off the owners to allow you both the night here was all he needed to know.

As for you. He just wanted your presence, and a little more if your permit.

His eyes couldn’t stop falling off to your figure, from your lips to your erect nipples poking out the thin fabric of which Sanji smirked while biting his lip, all the way down to your perfect bottom.

You both sat in the heated water, your eyes exploring the entire quiet area, still so immersed by the overwhelming beauty and simplicity of it all, your love cook lights his cigarette and watches you like a kid in a candy store, eyes so big and round.

You never grew up seeing such luxury and he knew this, which was why he wanted to make sure to give you the world and more now that he has you, and he wants to start off right with an evening relaxing under the stars.

“You like it?” Sanji pulls your waist to sit down on his lap and he leans on one of the bigs smooth rocks behind him.

“I love it! It’s so pretty!”

“Not as pretty as you.” Sanji blow the smoke out his nose to then cup your cheek so you can turn your face and kiss him.

You moan into his kiss, you held back earlier, in fear you may be heard by a walking civilian, but after being reassured it’s just you both, the sudden need of being loud and unashamed erupted into your body.

You loved kissing Sanji, the way how he starts off so slowly with your supple lips, to then grow hungrier and messier as he slowly moves you to straddle him. His hands not letting up from giving your breast a firm squeeze for one more moan so he can push his tongue against yours, eventually wrapping it around to stuck on.

Feeling you squirm and grind on top of him sanji pulls away to glance down, his eyes were opened to see your naughty little fingers handed right at the center of his crotch.

“In rush, baby?” Sanji chuckles as you notice your hand placement and quickly retracted it feeling completely embarrassed.

“I’m sorry…it probably wasn’t your intent to—“

Taking a hit of his cigarette he holds his smoke in and calmly places his hand around your throat, putting his thumb on your lower lip as a signal to open your mouth, you knew from his low lidded gaze what he wanted to do, you lean in, ready for him to blow the smoke inside your mouth and then back into another heated kiss.

You’ve done it with him quite a few times and it never fails to cause both you and him to start up something less than decent between you both. Maybe it’s the smoke in your mouth, his saliva, or the way he mutters “fuck” everytime you push against him during the kiss but it always riles you up.

“My intent is to make you feel good.” He mumbles on your lips to land another peck, “And if you want that to feel good then that’s what I’ll give you…”

His raspy voice will never not bring a chill up your spine, and Sanji knew that. He moves you both further into the water, you standing tall as he sit in the somewhat shallow water looking down at him, seeing the pretty petals fall on his pretty skin as he looks at you as if he found the All Blue himself.

“I love you, Y/n…”

“I love you more…”

He wraps his arms around your plush tummy kissing it, his lips soft as feathers your legs got shaky, how could a nonsexual act make you feel so weak?

And your boyfriend noticed

which is how you landed here;

“S-sanji!”

Your bikini bottoms now floating away, your leg hiked over his shoulder, Sanji was tongue fucking your needy little hole right in the middle of the Onsen.

“So….fucking good.” He groaned at your taste, you been wet since the first kiss and he could tell, and for making you wait so long for what you needed most.

You rocked your hips as he moved from your slit to your clit, giving it sloppy open mouthed kisses and nibbles as he massaged your ass while keep you steady, it was all so slutty and yet you couldn’t get enough when he got like this.

“Yes! Sanji yes!” Throwing your head back, rubbing and tugging against his scalp you felt yourself get close and the closer to orgasm you got, the louder you became.

Shoving two fingers inside you, he peers up at you, smirking against your lips, proud he can make you feel so so so

“relaxed”.

You almost fell while cumming on his tongue, but alas Sanji caught you, holding your waist to place you on his lap, pulling out his cock to finally be freed and without any thought you took it upon yourself to look down and guide yourself down on it, completely bottoming out causing you both to break out jnto a moan as you laid your back onto his sweaty wet chest.

It almost startled him from how quick you were to have him inside you, usually he was the one to be anticipating but your eagerness,

“B-baby you—-! Fuck I could have done it for y-you!”

“I’m sorry I…I need you…”

He hummed, pushing back your curls he latched onto your neck, allowing you to slowly bounce atop of him ad he also draw small tight circles on your clit. and there it was again—

“I’m…!”

With a swift movement Sanji untied your binkini bra as you were distracted from focusing on your next orgasm and grabbed one breast to then squeeze and tug on your nipples.

You giggle shortly then break into a whimper feeling his cock head graze against your sweet spot. Your eyes completely shut, but yet you are feeling so much of what Sanji was doing to your body only made you cry out more.

And dammit Sanji loved it.

He loved it so much he knew he had to take advantage of the evening with you.

So, that’s what he did-

from bending you over the rocks, to 69 beside the water, to fucking you against a pillar and walls your perverted man did not let up and you couldn’t be more grateful about his impressive stamina.

But like all things it came to a overstimulated end. Your numb body on top of his on the ground after another delicious orgasm from riding him Sanji massages your back.

“Baby…you asleep?”

And you were, soundly sleeping on his chest, he couldn’t understand how only because you usually felt too uncomfortable to cock warm him, but your boyfriend didn’t mind, so after a few kisses and rubs to your bum, he carefully lifts you , hissing at his softened cock pulling out of you and carries you to the room as both your bikini and his shorts float in the water.

Oh well, he’ll get them in the morning.

For now though he just wanted you in his arms, softly snoring under a warm blanket holding you so close as if you’d fly away, he missed you so much he couldn’t stop staring and kissing your pretty resting face, as well as admiring the marks he gave you on your body.

“I love you.”

#sanji #TimikosSanji #sanjionepiece #one piece #black reader #one piece x female reader #female reader #black foot sanji #x female reader #one piece headcanons #one piece smut #sanji imagine #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #one piece x black!reader #one piece scenario #sanji smut

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