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#peak artistry
irhabiya · 6 months
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:)
gorgus kitties
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repurposedmeatlocker · 6 months
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Ngl it is very beautiful that some people can get something out of a movie that is deep and impactful, while another is incapable of feeling anything for the same film. Sometimes I do wonder though what I am missing.
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I have discovered the most wonderful song that has ever graced the ears of the world
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PA-SYS6usbA
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antidiru · 2 years
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Kyo X...the Past
by Kouri
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sadromanticghostbf · 2 years
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smth i made a while back because thinking about this ep gets me too upset ♡
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raplinesmoon · 1 year
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the bts puppy interview is one of the greatest pieces of journalism of our generation
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mintpilo · 1 year
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Gamers when something finally gets a remake be like "wow I'm excited to finally be able to play this game, because idk... something... was stopping me before"
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the-cryptographer · 1 year
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Hey guess what I finally got up on ao3?! Fic for me and anyone else who wanted Merrill and Morrigan to explicitly have really fucked up and questionably-nonconsentual sex where they bone out all their problems. Like that problem where Morrigan steals texts and artefacts from Dalish clans and then collaborates with imperialists like Celene to gather all the Eluvians for a private collection. Or that other problem where Merrill deals with her childhood trauma by getting hopped up on aggression and hubris about singlehandedly saving her clan and culture. (So fic for just me, basically.)
Anyhow, I wrote it. And got @jo-luizen​ to illustrate it for me. (Thank you!) And now I’m putting a link on tumblr, I guess.
Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Merrill/Morrigan (Dragon Age), Jowan & Merrill (Dragon Age) Characters: Merrill (Dragon Age), Morrigan (Dragon Age), Jowan (Dragon Age), Keeper Solan (Dragon Age), Ariane (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dragon Age: Origins - Witch Hunt DLC, Enemies to Rivals, Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, Bondage, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Sex Toys, Double Headed Dildo, feral witch-on-witch action, Illustration included
Summary: Merrill left Clan Sabrae with only a pouch full of glass shards, a scant collection of personal effects, and a blood mage escaped from the Circle. And ever since, she’s been at a loss for what to do and where to go from here.
But when a fellow guest in Keeper Solan’s clan, a Chasind woman claiming to be Asha’bellanar’s daughter, steals an invaluable tome and Merrill’s Eluvian shards, Merrill finds at least one path worth pursuing.
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barbiebiddie · 2 years
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my toxic trait is that i regularly listen to disney movies' soundtracks
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aliaoftheknives · 11 months
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it literally is awesome to draw two anime boys and one of them has white angel wings and one of them has black angel wings and theyre almost kissing and also crying artfully because of the Conflict like internet artistry peaked in 2005
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mekatrio · 10 months
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and how come the ps1 version is still the best
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fanaticsnail · 6 months
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You're The Cure
Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist here
Word Count: 4,300+
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Synopsis: Law bought you a pretty flower from a port, wanting to impress you with it, and perhaps use it as a courting gift should you want him. As the Polar Tang's Herbalist, you know there is more to this flower than meets the eye. Trafalgar Law got more than what he bargained for with this little gift.
Themes: Pollen!Law x afab!reader, dubcon, desperate Law, Smut, mdni, NSFW, 18+ content, solo Law, edging, premature ejaculation, creampie, fluff
Notes: This little fic was brought to you by an incredibly recent ask that took control of my laptop. @sweetly-sicken, thank you for your ask - I hope you enjoy. @sordidmusings, @feral-artistry come get your man. He needs help (and thank you both for your help and your ears today while I wrote it).
Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff @sexc-snail
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Hunched over the desk in the greenhouse aboard the Polar Tang, Trafalgar D Water-Law scrunched his eyes tightly shut and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. His body was alight with a foreign passion he had never seen make it's equal. His clothes scratched and ignited his skin, the material of his heavy jacket weighing down his torso under the thick shroud of gray. 
Peeling his hat from his body and tearing at the iron zipper of his coat, his body began moving on instinct alone. His mind was screaming at him for his appalling behavior as his hands scorched hot trails along the glistening skin on his stomach. Sweat poured from his temples, his lips parting and huffing as his hands moved at a will of their own below the waistband of his pants. 
As his right hand gripped his achingly hard cock, he viciously began pistonning it within his fist, writhing and thrusting within it to match his brutal pace. His left hand snaked its way up his chest, pinching and circling the peaked bud of his right nipple as he mewled in desperation. He felt the approach of an impending orgasm stampede him towards release, the relief of the finish line almost within sight as he continued abusing his shiny knob and pummeling his shaft. 
Just as he felt his body begin to tip its way over the edge, it fell away just as hastily. Panic wrote itself over his face: his eyes wide, his mouth agape with a thin trail saliva trickling down his chin in stringy strands. 
“No, no, no, no,” he begged, pleading at his body to respond to the stimuli, picking up the pace and attempted to seek out his impending eruption for the second time, “No-... f-fuck-... Please.” 
Choking his shaft, a momentary clarity sifted in his mind as his eyes snapped to the single, innocent, pale flower poking out of an unsuspecting, ceramic pot. The top of the flowers danced within the aura of the puffs of breath he was panting, the yellow hue of pollen tinting the air with a tang on his tongue and a burn in his nose. 
“It’s that f-fucking flower, isn't i-it?” he chastised himself in a harsh whisper, laying his right hand flat over the desk as he thrust into his vice-like grip, “F-Fuck, it's the f-flower. Fuck.”
The sweetness of his release was once again in sight as he scrunched his eyes tightly shut. He released his nipple from his fingers, gripping the steel rim of the desk as he continued to writhe into his fist. 
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh sh-shit,” he choked on his words, desperately chasing an end that only rewarded him by sprinting away from within his reaching grasp. Again, the panic seared through his mind as he doubled down on his efforts, “No, no, no, no-o!” 
Without any further thoughts about his elusive orgasm, he immediately elevated his left hand and splayed out his fingers. He growled out a desperate roar, his ink-tainted digits shaking as he attempted to activate his devil-fruit ability to expel the pollen like a foul demon from claiming his soul. 
“R-Room- Ah fuck!” he exclaimed, his body immediately flopping over the desk as his body doubled its efforts against his iron-will. The intensity of the spouted dust increased it's crippling hold over his body, burrowing down deeper into every aspect of his body. 
“Sh-Sh-... Sh-...” he arched his back, his brows knit in a tight furrowed concentration. Glancing at the flower once more, a pool of saliva began spilling over his bottom lip as sweat poured from his temple, “Sh-Shambles- AH NO!” 
His cock danced with unresolved release, twitching within his fist as the intensity of his desire amplified. The devil-fruit abilities were doused by the fiery spray of the pollen in his respiratory system and blood stream. His body was not responding to his commands to expel it from himself by the supernatural means, nor the natural. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, falling back into the chair behind him and gyrating his hips rhythmically upwards to continue to match the pace of his pistoning fist. 
As a final ditch effort to release himself from not only this spell, but to force himself to cum into his fist, he attempted to activate his Haki. Scrunching his eyes shut tightly before opening them once activated, the sparks of energy he intended on seeking fogged his mind with too frantic a stimuli. 
Suddenly, he was aware of every white-hot wave of lust coursing through his veins. Everything ignited into a bright wave of light, his eyes not able to adjust to the flashes of the augmented hue. He shook his head, immediately shaking off the use of Haki from his widening eyes. 
“H-Help,” he choked out a whimpered whisper, “I n-need help.” He mewled out a keening sob, desperately chasing his high within his right palm. He thrust his left hand into his hair, balling the sweat-damp strands into his fist and cried out for his release. 
The bob in his thigh, the lightning bliss within reach again within the coiling band in his abdomen, everything was right there. Right there, until it wasn't. 
“C’mon, Law!” He roared at himself, chasing his high. He focussed his ministrations on his frenulum, pinching and flicking his hand over the tight band of flesh, “You can do this. Gotta keep strong for the team. C-Can’t lettem’ know. You're better than th-this.” 
He whined as his left hand once again chased the channels of his inked art up his chest, swirling his nipples beneath his calloused fingertips. 
“F-fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cried in desperation, his cock refusing to spill over even the smallest amount of precum over the slit, no relief in his release being welcomed into his hand, “Why can't I do this? I-I need-... Shit-... I need-... Mmmfph-... I need help.”
-
“Anyone seen our captain?” You asked the crew gathered in the communal dining space. Downturned lips, shrugs and soft shakes of the heads from your crewmates unified in their puzzlement. 
“Why? What's going on?” Bepo asked, his pale fur reflecting the buzzing illumines of the artificial light. 
“Oh, he said he had something for me, is all,” you smiled at Bepo, clapping your hand over his shoulder with a polite smile, “Something about a flower he picked up from that strange port earlier today. Wanted me to have a look, see if I could extract anything of it.”
Bepo let out a small squeak of joy, stifling further joy from fleeing from his lips by clapping his paw over his muzzle. He sought out the corners of your face, gauging your emotions responding to a gift from the captain. You shook your head at the large, fuzzy bear with a small smirk. 
“That kinda makes sense,” Penguin smirked up at you, shoveling his food into his lips and chomping down on the crunchy texture, “Seeing as though you're the herbal remedy spooky witch, and all. He's likely in your office, maybe even the greenhouse.”
“Herbalist, Pen,” you corrected him with a soft smirk and the shake of your head, “I didn't go to study permaculture, horticulture, botanical remedies alongside my bloody medical degree for you to refer to me as ‘herbal remedy spooky witch'.” 
Cackles erupted from the table around you, your own chuckle joining with the crew as you rose to your feet. Discarding the contents from your tray, you then placed the empty tray atop the metal shelf for the cleaning crew to easily manage. 
“Alright, family,” you called to your crewmen with a smile, “I'm off to take a look at that flower. I'll see you all for dinner later.”
“Bye, spooky witch,” Penguin chuckled at you, “Don't forget your broom on the way out.”
“Penguin!” Bepo scolded your hat-wearing crewman, prompting you to laugh in response. Shaking your head, you approached Penguin from behind, leaning down to lean into his ear with utter seriousness. 
“Be sure not to test this witch’s patience,” you smirked, purring into his ear in a sultry whisper. Penguin's blood ran cold, feeling the warm heat cascading from your body as your cool breath met with the shell of his ear, “Or I may curse you with something as sinister as impotence.” 
You laughed to yourself, turning and exiting the dining room to make your way towards your office. Noticing a dim light beneath the door, you cocked your head to the side as you narrowed your eyes. 
A small wave of tinted dust swirled beneath the door, your eyes widening at the hue of the pollen particles. You immediately reached into your boiler suit, seeking out your personal mushi-shell and raising it to your lips. 
“Bepo, you there?” You called to your fuzz-covered crewmate, “Important, honey. You there?” your snail jumped, Bepo’s voice expelling from the box with a hasty confirmation of, “I'm here, what's going on?”
“I need you to open the vents in the greenhouse and pump the room with clean air,” you ordered him, reaching for the door of your office and knocking on the cloudy glass of the window. 
Rough panting, cursing and growling echoed from a masculine voice from within the room, your heartbeat increasing the longer you were standing outside the door. You had read about this pollen, recognised the hue immediately beneath the crack in the door, and you knew almost exactly what sight was going to meet with your eyes as soon as you turned the door handle. 
“Bepo, did you flush the room?” You hastily hissed into the shell, a curt, “yes!” was confirmed in response. 
“Good job, sweety,” you praised him, before knitting your brows up in concern with a very cautious question, “Bepo?”
“Yes, Herbalist?” Bepo asked into the shell, “Is there anything else I can do for you? You sound kinda panicked.”
“I just-... I don't know how to put it plainer than this at the moment…” You trailed off, unsure of how to pose this question without further questions being asked of yourself, “...You're the captain's closest confidant, Bepo. Do you know if he's taken a lover aboard the ship? Anyone he fancies that might reciprocate his-... Uhh-... Affections?” 
A lull in the crackle prompted your heart to skip a few beats, patiently waiting for Bepo to answer your question. You were likely certain there were a few, including yourself, that took a shine to the broody and serious captain that manned the Heart-Pirates. You were aware of the cure for this disease he'd likely inflicted on himself, truly desiring to give him the treatment he'd actually consent to adhere to. 
This was pollen from the pale-lust plant, a plant that only the smallest amount of dust could amplify and magnify the sexual experience of the person who inhales it. It was usually manufactured into perfumes and body oils for those who wanted to ‘spice up’ their love lives. And your Captain had likely doused himself in it. 
“I'm not sure if it's my place to say, but from your tone of panic…” the shell muttered in Bepo’s calming cadence after several moments of silence, “...H-He hasn't ever thought about buying anyone aside you a gift at port before. A-And he really thought you'd like that flower he brought back for you.”
“Okay, Bepo,” you managed to choke out a small squeaked order, “I need you to block off all access to the botanical bay for the rest of the day. Captain's orders, okay? You're in charge.”
“Is everything okay? Do you need help-?” He questioned over the shell, you halting his voice by speaking over him. 
“-The captain is likely experiencing some systemic shock at the moment,” you confessed, adjusting your uniform at your neck in an attempt to stifle your blush, “Judging from the hue of the dust, it's likely the plant he brought back had an effect that I doubt he would've prepared himself for.” You bit your lip, truly concerned for Law's wellbeing within your office, “I need you to take charge until either I, or Captain Law, tell you otherwise. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
“Aye, sir,” Bepo’s practiced reply barked into the speaker, you could almost visualize the salute on the other side of the transponder. 
“Good boy,” you praised him, your hand moving down to the door handle and beginning to turn it, “I'm going to be out of contact for a while. I might still make it to dinner, but if I can't - please save me and the captain a plate!”
“Aye, sir!” he uttered again into the speaker, with a final, “Good luck with the captain!” Clicking aside the portable transponder, you thrust it into your pocket and shook aside your nerves. 
Hastily, you flung wide the door, turning immediately upon entering and facing the door as you clicked it locked behind you. As soon as you entered the space, the sounds of rough slapping of hands meeting skin, huffs of exasperated panting, groans and pleads falling from your captain's panicked lips alongside his panting mewls of pleasure flung themselves loudly and carelessly into the air. 
“Captain,” you whispered, your hands holding firm to the cloudy glass of your office door, “I know you're likely out of your own mind right now, but I'm going to tell you this anyway-.”
“-Fuck, what's happening to me? T-Tell me, please. Know I'm h-here. My h-head is here, I-I just-... ngmmh-...” he whined for you, the taste of your name tainting his tongue with desire and lust, “...don't judge me, please. I don't want this to change the image of myself in your head.”
Anticipation and a shameful wave of desire spread itself through your chest and ignited a throbbing need for your captain in your core. You knew this wouldn't be happening without this douse of pollen coursing through his veins, the raw need to chase his ecstacy within his fist behind you. 
“All th-this because I wanted t’get you a-... f-fucking gift t’ court you-...” Law confessed with a whispered hiss, his eyes raking over your body with lust and need, “...M’guessing this's from that f-fucking flower I got for you. Is-s there a cure?” 
A gasp flew from your lips at his confession, prompting you to almost glance over your shoulder at him. Deciding to give your captain a further shroud of decency, you halted your movement and chose your next words carefully. 
“There's no cure I can manufacture here, Sir,” you whisper over your shoulder, “But there is one that I know of-.”
“-F-Fuck, please get it. Whatever it is. Get the fucking cure before I lose the final bit of control I h-have,” he roared your name, barking his orders as the skid of the iron legs of the chair backwards, raking against the steel floor. You jumped in shock, the shifting of material scattering prompted you to become more aware of his feral urges further.  
Just as you began to turn your body to face your captain, two inked hands slammed against your own on the cloudy glass, prying them apart with a vice-like grip. Fingers laced between yours, his face fell in the crook of your shoulder as he deeply inhaled the scent of your perfume. He groaned at the feeling of his bare cock grinding in between the divet in your ass above your boiler suit, a shocked gasp fell from your lips in response. 
“Fuck you smell good,” he moaned, his lips latching on your pulse as his tongue swirled against you, “Taste even fucking better.” You whined as his teeth sunk into your neck, his rhythmic grinding not easing against your clothed flesh. 
His mind was hazy, his body was reacting to every subtle change in your voice and wavering breaths. As soon as you entered the room, it took all of his strength and will to not enter a state of frenzy and fuck into you with the deep ferocity of a wild beast. He owed you better than that. He wanted you to want him too, and if that meant holding onto his sanity by tooth and nail: so be it. 
“Captain-,” you gasped as his right hand left yours to paw at the front zipper of your jumpsuit. 
“-Law,” he growled his correction at you, “It’s Law, or anything other than my title or ‘sir’. Y-You-... fuck, sweetheart-... I n-need you. Please let me? Let me have you? Please?”
Slotting his hand over your chest, his fingers eagerly sought your left breast beneath the cup of your uniformed lingerie. He hastily rolled the peaked nub within his thumb, index and middle fingers; a cry of pleasure emanating from your throat as you threw your head back onto his shoulder. 
“We can talk about it later,” he whispered into your ear, pinching at your nipple as he bit your earlobe, “Know that I wanted you before all this-... F-fuck-...but I need you now.”
He hastily turned you in his arms, splitting the top part of your boiler suit back and shedding it from your body as he claimed your lips beneath his. Allowing his primal desires to take the reins, he continued breaking you out of your clothes to match his own nudity: pinning you against the door with his rutting hips. 
“What do I need to do? Tell me,” he moaned into your skin, his teeth catching on your own as you reciprocated his touch, “Guide me, my north star. Show me wh-what I gotta do.”
“Law,” you moaned for him, his body immediately pulling to you like iron to a magnet. Shedding the last of your clothes over your ankles, he used his feet to kick off your shoes. Cupping your thighs, he hoisted you into the air and hooked your knees over his hips. 
“My north star,” he moaned into your skin, his lips clinging to every amount of flesh exposed to him, “You're the cure. You're the cure, aren't you? My body is telling me you are.” You moaned for him as he carried you over to your desk, lying you on the cool surface and hovering over your body. 
“Anyone can be the cure for this, Law,” you confessed to him in a whimpering whisper, “It's the joining of bodies together that ends the torment. It's not me-.”
“-It is you,” he growled at you, hovering his lips just above yours and shaking from the amount of stress he placed himself under by holding back, “It's only ever been you. I need you. Better yet…” he lines his cock up with your glistening opening, the tip rubbing against your core prompting a small sob to exit from his lips. 
“...I crave you,” his arms shook beneath his weight, the sheen of sweat pooling from his temple beneath his only hair down to his whiskered chin, “Always wanted you. Let me have you. Please say you'll let me have you.”
“You have me,” you confessed, tracing your arms over his quivering forearms down to his hips, clawing him to draw him nearer. Guiding his cock within your entrance, you angle his hips as his brow sets deep within its furrow. 
“I feel like I'm gonna explode,” he confessed in a strangled whisper, “I-I’m sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” 
“It's okay, it's okay,” you soothed him with your calming voice, your thumbs pressing circular motions against his hip bones as he slid his cock to the hilt within you, “Use me, it's okay.”
As soon as the length of Law's cock slid to the back of your walls, he entered into a bliss he never would've imagined. His vision struck white, electricity sparking the flames of his encumbering lust as he shot you deep with spurts of his sticky cum. 
Barely having time to adjust to his size, he was already crying out for you. He immediately burst with his passionate release painting your gummy walls white, praising you for your gift to him while sobbing in deep pleas of anguish. 
“Fuck, I'm c-cumming. I'm f-fucking cumming. I'm already-...” He mewled your name, huffing as he barely began moving within you, “...I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I-... hhah, fuck-... I'm sorry-... nngh- s-so good.”
You pawed at his ass, clutching onto his checks and held him deep within you, hips flush with your own. The twitches of his muscles all rippled with the expulsion of the final waves of his cum deep within you. 
“I'm sorry,” he repeated in a whisper, alongside chanting your name like a prayer, “I'm so sorry.”
“It's okay, love, I know,” you hushed him, his body collapsing atop your own and caging you beneath him on your desk. You drew your hands up to his damp hair, fingers brushing away the strands and cradling him close. 
Finally collecting his breath, his heartbeat slowing to a more forgiving beat, he refused to tear his face away from the crease of your neck and shoulder. Embarrassment at, not only, the hasty release of his cum within you had a red hue illuminating Law’s face. He was also appalled at the fact his surprise gift for you was a toxic aphrodisiac, one he fell within the snare of with no known cure. 
“Law, look at me,” you cooed down at him, prompting him to nuzzle his pouting face deeper into your skin. You tried your best to stifle your giggle to no avail - your laughter aimed at his utter childishness. 
“Law,” you chastised him, angling the heels of your palms down to collect his cheeks, “C’mon, love. Let me see those pretty eyes of yours. Look at me.”
He huffed out a breath of exasperation, finally tearing his face away from your shoulder and bringing his pouty face up to meet yours. His eyebrows were knit in a single point in the middle of his face, his eyes wide and filled with shame. 
“I'm sorry, herbalist,” he acknowledged your formal rank, his cock still deeply held within you, “I am better than this. I-I promise I'm better than this.” You arched a single brow up with your growing smirk. 
“Herbalist?” you parroted back at him, brushing your nose against his, “What happened to my name, or ‘my North Star’? I quite liked that one,” his blush deepened, the dark dusting of vibrant red cascading over his nose, cheeks and tips of his ears. 
“Well, what happened to ‘love’, huh? Where'd that go?” he quipped back at you, gliding his reducing cock out of your walls, releasing the floodgates of his excessive load of cum expelling from your pussy. He shifted himself away, glancing down at the expulsion of his cum dripping onto your office floor. 
“Fuck,” he shuddered out in a small whispered groan, “That was a bit more than I thought there would be. Room…” he extended his left hand upwards, the spatter on the floor and still within you vanishing with a further utterance of, “...Shambles.”
A small splash of water fell onto the floor, and a small spurt against your groin. You shot Law a quizzical look, prompting a smirk to rise on his cheeks. 
“I tried washing my face in your sink as soon as I got a waft of the flower dust in my face,” he shrugged before nodding his head over to your herbalist station, “Water was still in it.”
Smiling, you leant up with your elbows behind your back, looking at the man who was priorly all consumed with feral lust. He looked accusingly at the pale flower in the small pot beside your naturopathic remedial herbs, eyes narrowed and lip snarling. 
“It's the last time I'm buying you a fucking plant,” he muttered, turning to meet his eyes with yours, “Without checking with you first, of course,” he reached down with his right hand, smiling as you accepted his hand, “I want to buy you all the plants you could ever want,” he aided you to rise to your feet, guiding your hands to lace behind his neck. 
“Thank you, love,” you smiled at him, prompting his eyes to crease with his own joy at the return of your name for him. 
“Anything for my north star,” he pressed a gentle kiss atop your head, “My guiding light,” his lips trailed down to brush against the apple of your cheek, “My pretty map spiriting me home to hold you in my arms again,” he snaked his forearms around your waist, his smiling lips collecting yours beneath his. 
Parting your lips, he angled his head to the side and pressed several waves of passionate caresses against your mouth. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, dipping his knees to elevate you within the air, his smile widening at the small squeak of surprise you released from your mouth to his. 
He placed you onto the floor again, chasing your retreating lips as you arched your back to press your exposed chest against his. The warmth of your skin spread from your body onto his, the heat radiating from his body engulfing your own with a warm infusion of radiant bliss. 
“You absolute sappy romantic,” you teased him as you broke from the kiss shared with him, “Didn't know you had all that in you. You must really like me.”
Scoffing back his laughter at your taunt, he squeezed your body against his. You laughed at his playful expression, leaning up to press a small kiss against his whiskered chin. 
“Alright. Fuck you, you brat,” he laughed, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous grin, “I was gonna let you top me, use me to get your own release from me, but now- ohhhh, now,” he shuddered a sinister whisper down at you, “Now you're gonna get it.”
“I'm absolutely shaking,” you taunted him further, your teeth nipping at his jaw, “Shaking, quivering and cowering.”
“Not now, you're not,” he growled at you, lifting you within his arms and hooking your knees over his hips once more, “But you fucking will be when I'm done with you.”
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fangswbenefits · 9 months
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The Arrangement (10) - A New Way
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Chapter summary: Astarion always find a way back to you even in the midst of all the chaos.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Sexual frustration. Jealous Astarion. Protective Astarion. Fingering. Masturbation. Cumplay. Innuendo. Body worship.
Word count: 7.3k
Author's note: Tumblr isn't allowing me to reply to comments ever since I changed my @... already contacted support. I am not ignoring you guys *deep sigh*
Ao3
Series Masterlist
Rivington had its fair share of taverns and inns sprawled across its busy and lively streets. It was surely a welcome change from the grim and daunting sense of dread that loomed over you when travelling across the shadowlands. 
As such, the group had split to indulge in some brief moments of well deserved and welcome repose before finally reaching Baldur’s Gate.
Astarion sat across from you, subtlety eyeing his surroundings as you happily sipped your apple juice. 
The sun had yet to reach its peak but the tavern was already crawling with drunkards and unpleasant crowds. 
“We shouldn’t linger.” Astarion mused with arms crossed.
You nodded. “I’m nearly done.”
As much as you wished to forget about the troubling matters that haunted you, it was evident that your presence was earning some unwanted curious stares from a few onlookers. 
He suddenly reached for the pouch at his hip, withdrawing a piece of fabric before extending his hand to you.
“Here.”
You took it in your hand, briefly admiring its silky texture of the handkerchief as shades of teal and green swirled together in mesmerising patterns.
Then your fingers found golden letters sewn along one corner. 
Your name.
Your heart was clenched tight as you traced each letter in absolute awe.
“Astarion, this is…”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, think nothing of it, darling. You’re often covered in blood and sweat and Gods know what other fluids,” he said with a curt smile. “I figured you might as well look stylish whilst wiping that pretty face of yours.”
There he was.
So easily crawling under your skin with his words and now with such a thoughtful gift that fully displayed his artistry and exceptional needlework.
A lump in your throat held your words back.
Maybe he didn’t consider this gesture all that relevant or even worthy of a lingering thought, but you did.
This was a silent extension of him.
Now you’d have him by your heart at all times.
But the moment was cut short as a loud bang rippled across your table.
A man reeking of cheap mead cackled loudly at you. He was swaying so violently it was an incredible feat that he was able to stand on both feet without losing balance.
“Oi! Aren’t you that gal from a few years ago who did magic tricks?”
Your blood ran cold at once and your insides twisted into several knots.
“I don’t think so.” you said, focusing your gaze on the drink in front of you.
You didn’t recognise him, but you silently prayed he would just drop the matter and leave.
Instead, he hiccuped. “N-No! It is you! I would never forget such a face.”
Your eyes met Astarion’s momentarily as he narrowed his crimson eyes at the loud drunkard, and you reckoned he was close to intervening. 
You mustered your strength. “No. It’s not me.”
But the man was insistent as he was drunk.
He banged a hand on the wooden surface once more. “What? You are the one whose mother–”
The flash of a dagger pierced through your field of vision, landing right between the man’s fingers, the blade pressed menacingly against his thumb.
“She said ‘no’,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes flaring with contempt. “Should I teach you the meaning of the word?”
The man shuddered and cowered in fear as he strolled away as fast as his wobbly steps would allow.
But Astarion had overdone it and had simultaneously caused many heads to turn your way, voices whispering as people tried to make out what the fuss was all about.
“We’ve overstayed our welcome,” he said, sheathing his dagger as he stood up.
You remained frozen in place, still taken aback by the words the man had spewed at you.
Your mind had been kept too busy to dive back into the memories of your mother, and to dwell on what had happened so many years ago.
A shudder spread across your entire body as the sense of dread gripped you.
You felt his hand nudge your shoulder. “Now’s not the time for daydreaming, sweetheart.”
And he quickly tugged at your arm, pulling you up on your feet before the two of you scurried along the tavern and earning heavy glares.
You made it out just in time as two Fists crossed paths with you on their way inside, trying to disperse the crowd that had gathered around the entryway.
“What was that all about?” Astarion asked as soon as you were able to blend in with the passers-by. 
“Nothing.”
Your mouth had gone awfully dry even though you had downed most of your apple juice, replenishing your hydration level. 
He stared at you, raising a brow inquisitively. “He did actually know you, didn’t he?”
You met his gaze in a silent warning. “He must have had me confused with someone else.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, but I will not pry. We all have secrets to bear.”
You nodded, thankful for his understanding remark.
There was no point in lying to him. He could always see right through your silly attempts at deception. 
“Just know that you can come to me should you need to air them out,” he added. “I know all too well how buried secrets always find a way to crawl to the surface – one way or another.”
It was a glaring testament to how he had come to terms with opening up to someone else.
He had come far in that regard and you felt proud of him.
A faint smile settled on your lips, but it faded just as quickly once realisation hit you.
“Wait!” you said, gripping his arm. “The handkerchief – I left it there. Let me–”
He patted your back. “Leave it, darling. Unless you fancy starting a tavern brawl, that is.”
Your heart dropped.
“But…”
“I will embroider you a new one.”
But he never did.
There was no point in lying to Astarion.
You were very well aware of this.
He would spot your deceit faster than a hawk could tail its prey.
But the dreadful sense of impending doom had rooted you to the sofa.
This couldn’t all just be a coincidence. 
By the time the two of you had reached the room, Gale and Lae’zel had already vanished through a portal to Waterdeep to assess the situation. 
“All we can do for now is wait.” Astarion said, adjusting his shirt. 
Shadowheart scoffed. “This is all very odd. It’s as if something is at work against us.”
You nodded. “I agree.”
“Are the two of you in some competition to see who’s the most dramatic?” he said with a click of his tongue. “Honestly, we know nothing about what happened. Maybe his contact succumbed to self-inflicted boredom – a running theme amongst wizards.”
His sense of humour would have been welcome under different circumstances, but you were on the brink of freaking out.
“Maybe I could cast Arcane Gate and help out…” you said in a restless tone, feeling nauseous.
But the mage slayer outside kept your magic levels too low for you to successfully cast a level six conjuration spell, so it was not even an option.
Astarion immediately snorted as he joined your side. “Perish the thought. I don’t think it’d be wise to do such a thing given your condition. You might open a portal to some place infested with murderous creatures, and then I’ll have to jump in to rescue you.”
Shadowheart, who had been pacing worriedly across the room, came to an immediate halt. “What condition?”
You rubbed your temples as if it would magically dissipate the gnawing headache.
“I had too much to drink last night.”
Shadowheart’s accusatory stare immediately landed on Astarion. “What did you do?”
He scoffed dramatically. “Excuse me? I am well aware that pinning the blame on me is a recurring activity in this group, but I had nothing to do with this.”
You groaned with a wince. “Please keep your voices down…”
Shadowheart rushed to lower herself by your feet until she could eye-level with you. “Are you all right?”
No.
And it had little to do with the aftermath of your alcohol consumption.
Ava.
Your intuition was pounding ceaselessly in your mind and you just couldn’t bring yourself to ignore it any longer.
Yes, she had told you she would talk to Astarion, but your nerves were being eaten raw and time wasn’t something you could afford to spare.
“I… think I need to talk about something…” you began as a shiver tore through your body.
Shadowheart gripped your knees, her face twisted in alarmed worry. “What is it?”
You exchanged a glare with Astarion who eyed you in confusion.
“I met up with Ava last night and…” You paused briefly, pondering your next words. “She made an offering.”
His brows furrowed together. “What offering?”
You felt sweat coat your palms as your heart rate quickened in distress. “She’s under the impression someone is after us,” you said, clutching your hands together. “That whoever it is might be responsible for that dead body and us getting wrongfully arrested.”
Shadowheart was now gripping your knees firmly. “And what did she offer?”
Your leg was visibly shaking now as you were finding it harder to keep your composure.
“Apparently, when Astarion feeds on me, our blood mixes together and…”
As far as you were aware, Shadowheart wasn’t aware of his deal with Ava, so you decided to hold that information.
“She’s interested in that… mixture and wants access to it in exchange for information.”
The effect your words had was nearly catastrophic. 
Shadowheart looked positively scandalised and Astarion immediately gripped your arm, snarling, “ What? ”
He was instantly on his feet and you followed suit.
“How would she even have access to that in the first place?” she asked in awe.
Astarion spoke before you could, “I’ve been giving her some of my blood as she researches ways to counter the effects of vampirism. But I wasn’t aware of this!”
“ Astarion! ” Shadowheart let out in sheer outrage. “What in the Hells is wrong with you?”
He ignored her remark, eyes fixed on you.
He was mad.
No.
He was furious.
Up until this point, you had only ever witnessed him protect Ava and vouched for her integrity, but it seemed that he was no longer interested in upholding his defence. 
“She told me she would tell you of this as she only recently found out about it.”
“To Hells with that!” he snarled. “Did you agree to that arrangement?”
Silence
But that was answer enough.
“You should have told me!”
You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. “You never listen to me when it comes to her!”
He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This is different!”
“How?!”
Crimson eyes locked with yours as he scowled deeply. “She involved you!”
His admission stunned you into silence.
It wasn’t all that common nowadays to witness Shadowheart succumb to her protective instinct to the point of no return.
But you could tell she was close to snapping when she approached Astarion, yellow flames dangerously swirled across her palms.
“Give me one good reason not to blast this Ava into oblivion,” she growled with ire. “Or you, for that matter.”
He gave her a mocking scoff. “Darling, I’d love to see you try.”
She smiled deviously and you knew it was time to intervene. 
You carefully placed your hand on her arm. “Shadowheart.”
She glanced at you almost in disbelief. “‘Shadowheart’? He’s out here dealing with dodgy people and putting us all at risk! Now she’s also involved with murdering people in Waterdeep?”
Astarion let out an exasperated groan. “What connection is there between the two, then?”
In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure.
Not yet, at least.
At this point, you were allowing your gut feeling to guide you, and it could very well blow up in your face if she turned out to be innocent in all of this.
However… the warning signs were too loud to ignore.
“I… don’t know yet.”
Astarion was glaring at you with pursed lips, and you vaguely wondered if he was upset with you, or if he was actually upset that his judgement had failed him when it came to Ava.
“You can bleed yourself dry if you wish, but not her ,” Shadowheart pressed in a low voice.
“I know .” he shot back.
She took a step forward, her face dangerously close to his. “Then you’d do well to remember that my respect for you has its limits. Do not cross them.”
You tugged at her arm again, trying to put some distance in between them.
“Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he said after a while with a scoff before turning around to leave. “I’ll be in my room.”
You tried to go after him, but Shadowheart held you firmly in place. “Let him go.”
It was hard to do so, but you nodded as you sat on a nearby chair.
“I know you care deeply for him, but this is beyond ludicrous.” she said with a heavy sigh.
Her voice was that of reason, so you couldn’t fault her for being so apprehensive.
“He would never harm me.”
And you would always stand by this as sure as the sun is to rise.
“Not consciously, but by dealing with this woman, he might have opened a door to great peril.”
You nodded, avoiding her penetrating gaze. “Wyll is running a few checks on some information she gave me. I guess we’ll find an answer soon enough.”
Shadowheart’s face softened every so slightly.
“Please exert caution with Astarion,” she said, grabbing your hand. “And I’m not talking about this in particular.
Oh.
“I don’t doubt for a second that he cares for you, but I don’t want to see you bound to nightmares,” she said in a whisper. “That is no way of living.”
You took a deep breath. “Things are fine between us.”
Unexpectedly, she let out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure. My room is next to his and… well, let’s just say that I may have overheard him mumbling your name a few times…”
“What do you…”
Oh.
“So, just… be careful,” she pleaded as she gripped your hand fiercely. “I trust your judgement, but not his… especially not after this.
You felt your heart swell with affection for Shadowheart and you pulled her into a tight embrace, almost tearing up as you did so.
“Thank you.”
She rubbed your back affectionately and whispered, “I adore you.”
“So do I.”
It was becoming more and more apparent that standing outside Astarion’s room was almost part of a routine now.
After a few more seconds, she finally pulled back with a reassuring smile. “I’ll tell the Fists outside to inform Wyll of what’s happened.”
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And it was also unnecessarily hard to reach out for that first knock.
You had waited a couple of hours before deciding on what to do.
Wyll hadn’t shown up yet and there was still no word from Waterdeep.
So, you took a deep breath and as you were about to rasp your knuckles against the door, a charming voice was heard, “I know you’re outside.”
Of course he did.
“Can I come in?”
A brief pause.“Be my guest.”
You turned the knob and rushed inside, clicking the door shut behind you.
As expected, the room was plunged in a candle-lit dimness as the curtains draped over the window kept the blazing sun at bay.
Astarion lay on his bed, resting against the headboard as he threaded his way along a piece of cloth with a needle, his eyes solely focused on the task at hand.
Your stomach turned and twisted in knots, and you realised you weren’t quite sure how to start the conversation.
A low chuckle was heard. “I’m assuming you didn’t come here to simply stare at me, darling.”
The lightheartedness in his voice made you feel slightly at ease and you shook your head. “No. I suppose not.”
This time, he did meet your eyes briefly and your heart skipped a beat.“As dashing as I am, I’d rather hear what you have to say instead.”
Right.
You cleared your throat, taking careful steps towards him before taking a seat at the feet of his bed, mindful to keep a certain respectful distance.
“I should have told you about Ava earlier on when you asked me.”
“Indeed.”
He didn’t sound upset in the slightest.
If anything, there was a faint hint of strange calmness to his voice.
“As for Shadowheart…”
He let out a snort. “Please. The day she stops worrying about you is the day I’ll find her in a casket.”
You couldn’t help out a short chuckle as he was absolutely right. 
Still, you laced your hands in your lap, absentmindedly fidgeting with your fingers. “I…” you began, before drifting off as uncertainty took place. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
Astarion paused altogether and his crimson eyes were on you again.
“See, I do understand that reasoning,” he said, tugging at the thread that curled around one finger. “But considering the nature of your conversation with her, you should have told me right away.”
You nodded.
“As fruitful as my connection to her might prove to be, I cannot accept the deal you made with her.”
Your heart raced in your chest at how determined he seemed in his resolve. 
However…
“If what she says is true and someone is after us, this feels like a small price to pay.”
Astarion snipped the thread with a pair of scissors before setting his handiwork on the bedside table.
The look on his face could easily make the bravest men cower in fear.
“Nothing that involves you is a ‘small price to pay’,” he said, voice low and heavy. “It’s one thing for me to willfully provide my blood, and another for her to take advantage of you so blatantly.”
You frowned deeply. “She is also taking advantage of you, then.” 
“I can deal with her.”
Astarion had this tendency to sell himself short in terms of self-worth. At times, he was as confident as one could be, but the centuries of robbed autonomy and lack of genuine bond to others would often slip in and take hold.
He was probably not even aware of how easy it was for you to catch on to this, but you knew him well enough by now. 
“You don’t have to.”
He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”
It nearly shattered you to hear him put up his defences around you so unbelievably fast.
There was no need for that.
“Don’t ,” you nearly pleaded. “Please don’t assume I am trying to tell you what to do.”
Just as rapidly, his features softened ever so slightly. “I apologise.”
You vehemently shook your head. “I also apologise if my words came across as condescending.”
An unsettling silence took place.
His eyes roamed across your face and you felt more exposed to him than you had ever been even when fully naked in his presence.
Even though you felt comfortable and safe with him, there were times when you wondered if it was reciprocal.  
“Ava is not your concern,” he eventually said. “I will deal with her.”
You had no doubt he would.
It just saddened you that… “I know she was helping you out in more ways than one, even if I don’t particularly agree with the… method, so to speak.”
“Yet here you are, thinking that whatever bond I share with her is significant enough,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “I am using her as much as she is using me. But I never allowed for that to extend to you. Ever .”
You swallowed as his harsh words hit you.
“That was her first mistake – involving you.”
“I took the deal freely.” you said.
“You didn’t have to at all,” he retorted impatiently. “She needs me more than I need her. So, if she knows anything about someone coming after us, she will tell me and I won’t be kind when I ask her to.”
Fair enough.
“Will you still give her your blood?”
“It depends.”
You blinked. “On what?”
“On how the conversation goes,” he said with a shrug. “Though what I do know for certain is that I will not give her blood after feeding on you.”
An impending sense of dread rose inside you and you vaguely wondered if you had just fucked up.
Information was power, and you worried that she might not take it well now that Astarion was openly against her proposal. 
But to be fair, she did mention she would let him know about all of this. So, it wasn’t truly your fault that he didn’t take it well, was it?
In fact, it was very much on brand with Astarion.
His sense of loyalty to you was unwavering and transcended any arrangement the two of you had agreed to.
And that was a bond not easily severed, probably much to Ava’s dismay.
“You are off limits.”
It wasn’t a subtle warning by any means and it made your heart swell with warmth somehow. His protectiveness nearly rivalled that of Shadowheart, though you wouldn’t dare tell her this.
A faint smile curled his lips. “I have to thank you.”
You arched an eyebrow. “For what?”
He hesitated at first. “I know you mean well. I do know that.”
Oh, Astarion…
“You’re a better friend than I could ever have hoped for – or even deserve,” he went on. “It is hard at times to be vulnerable. I was never allowed to. For centuries I equated being vulnerable to being weak… even pathetic.”
You were unsure of how to respond, but you felt each word tug at your heartstrings in a way that you had only felt when he had confessed his feelings for you back in Moonrise Towers. 
“I’m still getting used to this…” He paused abruptly as if pondering his next words. “Allowing myself to feel all these emotions, I suppose.”
“You are more deserving than you think,” you said truthfully. “Give yourself some credit. You used to be bound to your selfishness when we first met. You didn’t care for others because no one ever cared for you.”
His face held an expression akin to hurt, but it was the good kind of pain. Breaking one’s protective shell didn’t come without discomfort, but it was worth it in the long run. 
Unconsciously, you shifted along the edge of the bed as the overwhelming urge to embrace him took over you at once. 
Still, you didn’t want to push it, so you halted once you were sitting right next to him, which earned an amused smile from him.
“I have something for you.”
“Oh?”
He reached his hand to grab the piece of cloth on the nightstand. The very same he had just been embroidering moments ago.
“Come here.”
Your heart skipped a beat as he tapped his thigh twice. 
Noticing your hesitancy, he repeated the motion until you gathered yourself, feeling a rush of heat pool at your cheeks.
“You do have a thing for keeping me waiting, darling.” he remarked playfully.
A chuckle made its way past your lips as you moved to settle on his lap, careful not to sit too close to his-
“Here you go,” he said, proffering what resembled a kerchief of some sort.
You took it in your hands, admiring its silky texture and mesmerising fusion of different shades of blue that swirled beautifully together until your eyes spotted the yellow-threaded embroidery sprawled along one corner.
Your name.
The needlework was impeccable as always.
Your eyes widened in sheer bewilderment as you remembered the last time he had offered you such a gift.“I – this is beautiful,” you managed to say. “The other one was a masterpiece as well.”
He chuckled tenderly. “The timing of my offering was rather inopportune on that day – I should have waited until we were back in camp.”
His words were sweet and caressed you like a lover, and you could feel yourself drawn more and more to him.
“May I?”
You nodded as he took the kerchief from your hands only to have it drape around your neck, his fingers tugging gently at both ends as his eyes met yours.
Oh.
Fuck.
You only had time to hastily hold on to the headboard with both hands for support as he pulled you in closer. “May I kiss you?”
It was an uncomfortable position to be in since you were trying to avoid his crotch at all costs.
“Where?”
His gaze dropped to your lips.
“Friends don’t do that.” you teased, but still inching closer to him.
“Darling ,” he began with a click of his tongue, rolling the edges of the fabric around each finger. “We haven’t been friends for quite a while now.”
And then he kissed you.
It was a hungry and urgent kiss and his tongue quickly slipped past your lips, causing you to instantly melt into him.
The softest moan escaped your throat as you felt a single fang nip teasingly at your lower lip.
Driven by pure instinct, you shifted along his thighs until you were pressed against his crotch.
He broke the kiss to let out a strained groan and you immediately lifted your hips, alarmed that you had gone too far.
But his hands immediately dropped to your waist, holding you in place. “Don’t.”
You met his lustful gaze. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t. Please .”
He didn’t push you back against him, but you felt his fingers tease the waistband of your trousers. 
“Astarion…” you said, unsure if this was a good idea.
He tugged again, but more gently this tme. “We don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with.”
Oh, you were more than eager to carry on. In fact, you were desperate .
You bit your lip, torn between listening to reason or giving in to the moment.
The latter won by a landslide. 
You nodded and he masterfully undid the buttons and laces with one hand.
“Do you trust me?”
What an odd question from him. “You know I do.”
His thumb traced your jawline before grazing your lower lip and earning a sigh from you. “Can I trust you not to scream?”
“Scream? Why would I-”
Realisation hit you like a tidal wave and your eyes widened as words died in your mouth.
Oh.
Astarion smiled cheekily, patting your thigh, clearly urging you to slide off of his lap.  “Lock the door.”
You were still taken aback and didn't move an inch, staring into his crimson eyes instead as your heart drummed rapidly in your chest.
“Lock the door .”
It resembled a plea, which caused you to clench involuntarily from how desperate he sounded.
Swiftly slipping off his lap, you hurried across his room to turn the key below the doorknob until a click was heard.
By the time you turned around, Astarion had removed his shirt and you were rooted in place, utterly speechless.
He was a work of art. 
No words of praise would ever do him justice.
Your mouth had dropped slightly open and he chuckled deviously. “You’re free to stay there and gawk, but I’d rather have you on top of me.”
His teasing snapped you out of your trance-like state and you felt a stronger wave of heat flare across your face and rush down your body.
Your legs felt weak all of a sudden, but you found your way back to him as you always did.
In the end, all roads did lead back to him.
As if driven by an outside force, you quickly slipped out of your trousers, only leaving on your underwear which was already gathering a growing wet spot.
His stare was fixed on your lower half and you spotted the familiar outline of his cock strained in his own trousers.
He eased you back on his lap with a firm grip on your waist and a boyish grin on his lips. Your hands settled on his bare shoulders, still mindful to not lower your hips too much.
“So, my dearest friend… ” he said, adjusting the kerchief around your neck. “How often do you indulge in such activities with your other friends?”
You smirked playfully. “Not often enough.”
He mirrored your expression, fingers slowly undoing each button of your shirt. “Oh? I wonder who crosses your mind, then.”
You.
But he already knew that as his hands travelled down your chest, each breath allowing your shirt to part wide enough to expose your heaving breasts.
“Is it Wyll?”
“You and your obsession with Wyll,” you laughed as he slowly pulled the fabric to the side, exposing each breast at a time. “I’m starting to think you want him for yourself.”
His eyes left yours to gaze at a perky nipple. “The question is: would you be willing to share?”
You whimpered softly as his thumb traced the underside of one breast and you felt too tempted to press down against his erection just so you could comfort the throb in between your legs. 
“Of course… I’m all for sharing friends.” 
Once he began grazing your nipple, you had to grip his shoulders tighter to anchor yourself.
Your body undulated instinctively, earning a hum of approval from him.
“Would you let Wyll do this, then? As a friend, obviously.”
You were about to arch a brow at his question when you felt one finger pulling your underwear to the side, exposing yourself to him.
It was almost comical how soaked you already were.
You reckoned it was enough to take more than just his fingers.
“Would you let him, darling?”
“I–”
But your voice died in your throat as he ran a single cool finger along your folds, carefully avoiding the swell in between them much to your agony.
The shift in temperature was always something that took some time getting used to and you occasionally flinched as your body adjusted to his touch.
“Can I do this, then?” he asked in a low growl as he teased your entrance. “As a friend.”
You rolled your hips out of reflex and he sank into you with ease until he was knuckle-deep. 
“Gods…” you moaned in sheer relief, instinctively clenching around him.
He then pressed his thumb between your folds, causing your hips to jerk as he teased the pulsing swell. It wasn’t long until you began to slowly ride him, your eyes nearly fluttering shut.
“You can take more, can’t you?” he cooed, moving his hand to tease your other nipple. “I remember how eager you used to be for my cock.”
At this rate, he would make you come from his teasing words alone and with a single finger buried inside you.
“Astarion… don’t…” you moaned as you rolled your hips, urging him on. 
He needed to shut up…
You needed him to stop talking before-
He suddenly slipped a second finger and you lost your balance, pressing your breasts against his bare chest while seeking support from his shoulder as you buried your face in his neck.
“You have no idea how I longed to be inside you again,” he sighed, his fingers gripping your waist and guiding your sloppy rolls, eventually setting the pace. “My hands can never feel as divine as you do.”
Gods…
You shuddered violently as your moans quickly turned into sobs and whimpers, the wet lewd sounds filling your ears.
He pressed the heel of his palm against you, the delicious friction causing you to rake your  hand down from his shoulder and along his chest until he caught your wrist, pressing your heated palm against his hardened nipple.
Astarion immediately groaned and you felt him arch into you.
“Darling…” he moaned, pumping his fingers faster inside you. “Please look down.”
You were so out of it, that his words didn’t register at first, so you kept on riding him in between sobs, further teasing his nipple under your touch.
“Look down,” he repeated more firmly, nearly slipping out of you. “I want you to see the mess you’ve made.”
“ No-no-no … please…” you nearly cried in exasperation, moving your hips desperately against him.
“Then look down.”
You growled in pure frustration, somehow managing to pull back enough to have your eyes land on the hand in between your legs.
It was soaked down to his wrist, and you could see some of it beginning to drip, staining his strained bulge.
You felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment wash down over you and tried to bury your face in his neck again, but he gripped your chin with his fingers, halting you.
“Do not hide from me,” he said, slipping his fingers back inside as he stared into your half-hooded eyes. “This is one of the highest praises you can offer me.” And he proved his point by planting the softest kiss on your lips.
You immediately melted into his praise, realising just how lovely he could be…
The pent-up sexual frustration was at an all time high and you could feel the familiar coil in your lower abdomen reach the point of no return.
You wished you were strong enough to fight him back with snarky and witty replies, but your concentration was broken. 
“What about a third one?”
You didn’t care anymore.
You just wanted release.
It had been too long since he had made you come and you'd take anything he gave you at this point.
“Just…” you began, chasing after that high relentlessly. “ Just… ”
He had the nerve to chuckle at your frustration and you felt a third finger prodding at your entrance.
You could take it.
You would take it.
The fullness would most surely remind you of his cock and you needed it.
You were wet enough to accommodate him as he pushed through, earning a gasp from you followed by a shudder and a strained groan.
“I don’t mean to brag, but I highly doubt dear Wyll would get this reaction from you.”
“Gods… stop talking about Wyll as you’re inside me,” you managed to string coherents words together in between your moans. “Just… please…”
He pressed a kiss to your flushed cheek. “You always take me so well.”
How you wished it was his cock instead, stretching you even more and filling you deeper.
You were nearly there.
“Don’t scream, darling.” he teased as you rode him desperately. “We wouldn't want dear Shadowheart to overhear your wanton cries.”
Well, Shadowheart was already privy to the nature of your relationship with Astarion thanks to him and how he clearly didn't shy away from taking care of himself with others around.
Your mind was about to blank and you slid the kerchief from your neck, feeling the need to bite down on something as you reached your peak.
A few more hip rolls did the trick and one last stroke of his thumb along your folds managed to push you right over the edge.
Your contractions were so violent and strong at first you thought you might die from how hard you were clenching around him, your legs wobbling dangerously as you were drained of lifeforce with each blinding wave of bliss.
The piece of cloth in your mouth didn’t do much to muffle you as your climax tore throughout your body, but it was better than having nothing.
Astarion only slid out once you had slumped into his chest, barely able to keep your breathing steady.
Your knees gave out and you sank down against his crotch, earning a guttural growl from deep within him.
Shit.
You instantly slid off of him, worrying you had accidentally gone too far. “Astarion… I’m…”
He shook his head, the hand that was soaked in your wetness clawing at the front of his trousers as his eyes were pressed shut.
Oh.
“I’ll take care of this…” he let out a pained hiss.
Oh.
“I can just leave,” you mumbled. “I’m…”
His trousers were now undone and you could see his clothes cock faintly throbbing.
And he shook his head once again. “You can stay – you can watch… if you want to.” His words were coated in urgent lust. 
Your eyes widened at his proposition and you thought you might implode right there and then.
You had barely come down from your climax and the throbbing that had begun to subside was already about to match your quickened heartbeat.
“Or you can leave…” he said in a low and strained voice.
Oh, he was truly holding back…
“I… can stay.” you offered at once, sitting next to him and trying to ignore the lust that was building inside you once again.
This wasn't about you.
He quickly nodded and with a swift tug he freed his cock and you had to bite down hard on your lip at the mesmerising sight in front of you.
A single strand of precum dangled from the tip, already pooling on his lower abdomen. 
“Gods above…” he let out a sigh of relief, hips lifting from the mattress as he wrapped the hand drenched in your wetness around him. 
This was too hot to witness and you curled your hands into fists on your lap, wishing nothing more than to touch him again.
But you knew he needed this.
He needed to feel at ease with his body first.
His eyes met yours briefly before dropping to your chest and to your breasts as they heaved from your laboured breathing.
You removed your shirt, not wanting to obstruct his view and Astarion growled .
The pace was slow at first as he squeezed his cock, but he quickly picked up, mixing your wetness with his with each stroke.
He looked positively ethereal as his handsome face twisted in pleasure, lips parted and razor-sharp fangs peeking through. 
Should you say something? Should you praise him? Encourage him? Or would it be too much?
From what you remembered, he seemed to revel in your teasing words in moments of shared bliss, but how much of that was an act back then? Was he ever able to fully enjoy being with you?
In doubt, you chose to remain silent as you watched him bring himself closer to his own climax.
It didn't take him long to start mumbling your name in between heated pants and there was no way back now.
You were throbbing hard again, wetness spilling from you with each involuntarily clench. 
Your body was so ready for him… it was almost painful.
A thicker string of precum bridged his tip to his abdomen, and you nearly moaned, remembering its sweet taste.
He rolled his hips languidly, eyes never leaving you as he gripped the bedsheets under him with such force you reckoned me might tear right through the fabric.
That sparked newfound curiosity inside you.
Slowly, you leaned forward, shifting closer just to have your hand next to his without quite touching him, but close enough for him to feel your warmth.
I'm here… I'm with you, you wanted to whisper, but only heard the words echo in your head.
He groaned in response and, much to your surprise, he released the sheets and his fingers found you, intertwining them in yours as he held on to you. 
Your heart might have skipped several beats, you were no longer sure at this rate.
You had seen him reach his peak a handful of times before, but there was something different about the way he toppled over the edge this time.
He threw his head back against the headboard, straining his neck as his mouth dropped open, your name being the only intelligible word you could make out in the midst of hisses and groans. 
Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest that you feared you might not make it as he reached his peak.
His hips still momentarily and he covered his swollen tip with his hand and the first spurts of cum began to slip through his fingers before dribbling down to gather at the base and across his lower abdomen.
You held his hand formçy through his climax. Perhaps the first genuine one you had ever witnessed, which invoked an odd feeling of… delight?
For the second time in just a mere couple of days, the two of you held hands albeit seeking varying degrees of comfort and relief.
Beads of sweat rolled down his temple and covered his bare torso as he descended from his high and that was when his eyes met yours.
Your stomach turned and you felt the throb between your legs begin to ease with each passing second.
“Will you kiss me?”
His request took you by surprise, but you promptly shifted next to him until your face was close enough that your lips grazed his.
Only then did he let go of your hand and merely because he meant to hold your chin as he kissed you softly.
It carried neither urgency nor lust.
Just a pure display of silent  intimacy that strummed at your heartstrings more effectively than any other praise he could ever offer you.
You melted into his sweet touch and allowed your kiss to express the unspoken words you had yet to tell him.
I love you…
Whichever form of love it was, all you knew was that it felt right and love overdue.
You could feel him occasionally smile against your lips and there was not a single drop of doubt in you.
I love you.
After what felt like an eternity, you pulled away, already mourning his touch.
“Shadowheart knows.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
You had to hold back a chuckle. “She heard you – well, when you were… handling things after feeding on me.”
The most mischievous of smiles settled on his lips. 
“I thought you said you were quiet…”
“I was, darling,” he said before pecking your cheek. “For the most part, that is.”
You giggled and then stared at him in awe as his beauty increased tenfold from where you sat.
He was impossibly handsome.
“You’re so…”
“Charming?”
You rolled your eyes as he pressed his cool lips to your other cheek.
“Beautiful?”
Another kiss.
“You’re so… you.” you blurted out almost feeling embarrassed from how basic your praise was.
But it drew the biggest smile from him, and you mirrored it instantly.
“Well…”
You watched as his eyes dropped to his lower half and yours widened slightly at the obscene amount of cum was now dribbling down his sides in thick beads. His hand was still holding his now softening cock, fingers drenched in his own spend.
“That’s a lot…” you said.
He nodded, looking almost as perplexed as you were. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” and his voice trailed down.
And you knew exactly what he meant.
With a warm smile, you extended your hand, offering him the kerchief he had gifted you moments before.
He visibly winced. “No, darling. It would be nigh criminal to use such delicate fabric on this .”
Your smile widened. “Can I fetch you a towel then?”
“Please,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “It’s rather messy here.”
You pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before sliding off the bed and hurriedly slipping into your shirt and trousers and crossing the room.
The key turned in one swift move and you quickly left the room.
You were only able to take a few steps before a silhouette startled you.
Shadowheart.
She was leaning against the railing by the top of the staircase with folded arms and a quirked brow.
“Gods! You scared me,” you said, clutching at your chest. 
“Glad some of us are able to enjoy ourselves in such times.”
You swallowed hard. “Uh… we were just talking.”
She snickered humorously. “I suppose it’s a form of communication.”
An overwhelming heatwave spread across your face. Had you been that loud? Or had he? 
Then her expression turned serious. “Pull yourself together. We have visitors.” 
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TBC
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atyourmerci · 5 months
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Softdom!abby X plus sized insecure reader ♡
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Abby painting all the things she loves about your body
CW: smut, MDNI, softdom!abby, sub!reader, plussized!reader, reader is anxious, me making up shit ab artistry, face sitting, fingering, mult orgasms
♡ ♡
In your sun kissed painting room, abby lies against your velvet couch, her blonde hair glowing against her pale flesh. She often modeled for all of your class assignments so she was used to her spotlight.
She loved watching you at work, so concentrated as you perfected your craft. She would do anything for you, she just wanted to help her beautiful girl.
As your eyes are trained on the majority of a blank canvas you zone in on creating your base, knowing your girlfriend would stay still so you can get your perfect shot.
“Why don’t you ever let me pain you?” Is heard from behind the white canvas propped up on your easel.
It caught you so off guard your head peaks around the board to look at your girlfriend. hmmm? Comes out as an honest confusion.
She giggles to herself at how locked in you truly were, “why don’t I ever paint you?” She reiterates.
You giggle back at her question, “because you can’t paint for shit,” you toy with her playfully.
“And what if I wanted to try huh, maybe I’m not using the right medium perhaps,” she comes back with a sophisticated air to her tone.
“Yeah yeah okay, just sit and look pretty,” you say getting back to your work when you hear a rustling, seeing her get up from the couch to approach you, “don’t move! That was a perfect-,” before you could finish her hands are wrapped around your stomach as she kisses the side of your face.
You can’t seem to protest with the naked woman behind you, touches of her sun soaked skin drenching you. You lean into it, letting her do as she pleased.
“I want to paint you,” she says in between peppering kisses down your neck. You giggle at her insistence, “baby I think we’ve been over th-,”
“No, no I want you paint on you,” she whispers into your ear as her hand cups your jaw gently.
“N-now? Right now?” You turn to face her, she had to be joking, right? Abby watches you with doe eyes, nodding back at you.
“But it’s bright in here,” you say averting your glance, the pit in your stomach growing with anxiety of the thought. Your nervous tick of flexing your fingers beginning, and abby notices.
Taking your palms into her own and rubbing circles with her thumbs on top of your hands in order to soothe you.
“I know. I want to admire every part of you. I want you to see what I see baby. Is that okay?”
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A white tapestry lies beneath your barren body, stripped of all the confines and masks you build up to protect perception.
There’s no real reason to hide from abby. She adored every inch of you. Every marking on your body was akin to threads of gold to her.
Now tracing them with your paintbrushes, creating flowers from the stretch marks on your stomach, one of the biggest insecurities you had.
You once tried to hide them, turning around to change, avoiding mirrors that may give away your secrets. She’d trace them in the safety in the darkness, admiring your body for taking care of you, protecting you when she couldn’t.
As she aimlessly paints away at your flesh she admires her artwork, not the paint itself, but her own human body sculpted for her eyes. She rambles on about how you represent the body of a Greek goddess, full and radiant.
Her light touches, soft words, and longing glances sending you into the deepest form of arousal you’d ever known.
To be loved is to be seen
Beginning to form dainty flowers amongst the stretch marks in your inner thighs you couldn’t take it anymore, breath getting heavier, her mouth beginning to gape at your dripping arousal…so close to her touch.
“Please sit on my face,” she sounded depraved, as if she’d die without it.
“B-but the paint,” you breathe out, not giving a shit, but knowing there would be a mess.
“I don’t fucking care, please baby,” she pleas, gripping into the flesh of your thighs.
You’d never done this, allowed yourself that vulnerability. You’d berate your thoughts, always worrying you’d be too heavy. What if she thought you were too much, too heavy for her? Would it change her mind about you?
She guides you above your mouth, paint smearing across her cheeks. You begin at a hover, attempting to make yourself lighter, more palatable.
“Baby all of you, please I need you,” you hear from her, tugging on your thighs to sit comfortably on top of her.
A sigh of relief floods you, releasing the tension and submitting to her completely.
If she could have eaten you whole, she would have. Sloppily licking down your cunt, pressing down your thighs to get as close as she could.
She made you whine and shake till your tired limbs gave out, falling down onto her, letting your body rest completely. Planting kisses on your forehead while she runs her fingertips through your hair.
“Let me do the work this time, just lay there and look pretty,” she says gazing down at you with a grin, knowing she’s stealing your line.
Your body sprawled out on the cloth, completely revealed to her open-mouthed gaze, sun kissing your sweaty flesh.
Driving her fingers into you she can’t help but stare at your pretty mess, paint covered, soaking cunt all of her. “Look so fucking pretty like this,” she coos, sending your head back in pleasure.
The feeling of full liberation, complete autonomy over your body, at the hands of her.
‘mine mine my girl my fucking pretty girl’ she can’t stop herself from babbling, watching as her piece of art comes to life.
Even after you finish from her fingers she can’t stop looking, obsessed, utterly enthralled at the thought of getting the honor of fucking a goddess.
Dried paint chips away at your bodies as the sun goes down. Bare bodies lying there for hours. Maybe you’d never leave this moment.
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lonelyroommp3 · 5 months
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the thing is that every single one of us with remotely creative inclinations who falls under what i might hesitantly, shuddering a little with the humiliating weight of bringing out such a phrase in the year 2024, call the "former gifted kid umbrella" has gone through a phase where we think overwrought purple prose sponsored by thesaurus.com that is very very self consciously aware of our own artistry and self proclaimed uniqueness for being able to string a sentence together is like, the absolute peak of all writing skill and that we are literally the smartest person on earth for reading classics or knowing a vocab word above our grade level or being able to pick up on metaphors in poetry. and it inevitably results in creating art that is not very good because we are focusing less and less on actually saying something and more and more on just sounding very very smart when we say it. and yes, it's deeply cringe to look back on it and a lot of the art made will, in hindsight, be at best a bit naff and at worst completely unsalvageable, but it's a massively important stage of creative development that ultimately teaches you a lot about moderation & what is really important in the art you create (ie. actually saying something from the heart as opposed to saying something that will make everyone gawp at how clever you are). the issue is that most of us who went through this did so when we were like 14 and taylor swift appears to be having that phase while being well into her thirties
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quintetz · 6 months
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—PRETTY PLEASE; LORENZO BERKSHIRE
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summary: you’ve always been shy, and lorenzo’s always been patient
contains: anon requested material! not proofread, lazy ending… shy reader, soft dom lorenzo, praise kink, a little bit of teasing, fingering, p in v, creampies, smut smut and more smut!!
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“Baby, c’mon, I’ve seen you like this before,” Lorenzo says, his face a mix of concern and understanding. You sit on the bed, using your uniforms white button up as a cover over your almost-bare chest. It’s not like you haven’t been together like this before—you have, many times, and each time, Lorenzo has been just as sweet as the last. He leans in and touches the skin of your shoulder, his own hand cool, but not cold. He guides your arms down, revealing the delicate white lace of your bra, “see? Gorgeous,” he coos; you feel your face flush in response.
He cages you in his arms and plants a speckling of soft kisses from your jaw to your collarbone while one of his hands slips low to your legs, sweeping your discarded shirt to the bedroom floor and stroking your thigh underneath your skirt. He moves his mouth to your lips and slots himself between your thighs. Your cunt rubs against his hard on briefly and you moan into his mouth, “that needy already?” Lorenzo chuckles, he lays you down on the bed after shelling his shirt and pants off and kicking them onto the carpet with your own shirt. You admire him for a moment; the lean muscle of his arms and chest, the sharp yet inviting lines of his face like raphaelite artistry, the way his hair falls across his forehead, his elegant hand—which pulls your skirt off of you so that you’re both equally exposed—the outline of his hard on beneath his boxers.
“Fuck, you really are needy today,” he grins, running his thumb over your already-soaked panties, a pleasurable shiver runs through your body and you hide your reddening face in your hands. He slips the panties down your legs and takes one of them to rest on his shoulder, kissing at your calf as he does so. His fingers card through your folds, slick and desperate, “y’like that?” He asks coyly.
You nod, peeking out from the barrier of your fingers.
“You’re gonna have to use your words, beautiful.”
Your face gets hotter—if that’s even humanly possible—and you let out a little whimper before speaking, “yes, I like it… more, please, Enzo?” You whine. He complies wordlessly, rubbing around your entrance before pushing one of his fingers inside, all the way up to the last knuckle. Another finger is added, he fucks them into you and whispers little phrases of praise: you’re doing so good, baby, you’re so pretty like this, just like that, until you start to reach your peak.
He pulls his fingers out of your throbbing pussy, and sucks the slick covered digits clean. He takes his boxers off, and taps his cock on your clit, precum already leaking from the tip. The lack of pleasure hurts, you bite your lip hard while you watch Lorenzo spit in his hand and stroke down his length a couple of times before lining his cock up with your entrance. You gasp when he puts it in, slowly stretching you out; it’s a lot bigger than his two fingers, and god, does it feel a lot better. Your velvety walls flutter around the familiar feel of him, and he begins a languid pace of thrusts into your cunt.
Soon enough, the tension builds in your belly and you finish in a waterfall of pleasure around your boyfriend’s cock. Lorenzo pounds into your sensitive folds until he reaches the same peak, and finishes while still deep inside you. He pulls out, cum leaking out of your cunt, “so good, baby,” he mumbles tiredly, kissing you on the forehead.
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