#snapping the sound of my sanity

[clyspm]

Does anyone know deleted user reyofseokshine? Their deleted svt fics used to make me laugh sm and I really want to read them again

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Yandere!Vampire that was once royalty, living in a dilapidated castle, alone and depressed. As a human, he was surrounded by people. Everyone adored him, his golden curls and warm brown eyes charming the hearts of every noble that set eyes on him.

That was until his family was slaughtered by a coven of vampires, leaving him the only survivor. Now with no family, he was turned away from the nobles that once gathered at his side, calling him beautiful and intelligent. Now he was a beast, and was only left alive because no one dared to touch him.

As the years passed by, all that knew of his existence died out, meaning no one remembered or cared for him. In the past, he had at least been grateful he had been in someone’s thoughts, even if it was in a negative light. Now, no one even hated him. He was just nonexistent to the world outside his castle.

Centuries passed by, every day slowly picking at the last bits of his sanity. Days of past grandeur and the current day mixed together, leaving him in a state where he couldn’t tell whether he was back in the living arms of his family, or wandering the dark, crumbling hallways of his childhood home.

It was only when a soft, warm light flooded one of the abandoned rooms he had been standing in that the fog in his brain began to fade, allowing him to see what was in front of him for the first time in decades.

It was you, a young woman in a hoodie and jeans, holding a flashlight. You lived only a mile away, and had been exploring when you came upon ruins of what seemed like an ancient castle.

You had heard rumors of a person that wandered the ruins from the townsfolk, and old tales of vampires that had been passed down by tongue for centuries. Not believing them, you decided to see for yourself…

Your light shone upon what you first thought was an ethereal ghost or some kind of beautiful spirit. A man with a mop of blonde curls, porcelain skin, and the most beautiful pair of ruby red eyes you’ve ever seen stared back at you.

The person attempted to speak, but clutched his throat, as if he hadn’t spoken in so long, his vocal cords had forgotten how.

“H-hello?”

The man perked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes clearing up. It seemed just hearing another human speak made his undead heart leap, and he couldn’t help but stumble towards you.

You yelped when he crossed the room within seconds and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply.

The smell of another person, of sweat and perfume mixing together to make your own unique scent made him want to sob.

Of course you were freaked out, but the man holding onto you wasn’t hurting you, and you could feel warm tears soaking through your shirt. How could you turn away someone that was obviously in distress?

Unsurprisingly, the man followed you home. It didn’t take a genius to realize he wasn’t human. He was as pale as a sheet of paper, with no pulse or any color to his cheeks. His eyes were scarlet, a shade you had never seen a human have before.

Despite knowing this, you couldn’t help but care for him. He was thin, malnourished, with clothing that was so old and dirty that it nearly crumbled when he took them off.

“Are you hungry?”

You had taken to asking only yes or no questions, since he couldn’t speak. The man frowned, his eyes getting foggy for a second. You decided to ask again.

“Hello? Are you-“

He suddenly snapped back into reality, leaning forward to gently place his lips on your neck. You squeaked out in surprise when you felt his teeth sink into your neck… but it didn’t hurt. Instead, you only felt an uncomfortable pressure and draining sensation, and before long he was pulling back.

“Mmph…” he panted softly, blood running down his chin. “Was… so… thirsty…” he managed to say, his voice hoarse and small.

He cupped your cheek, holding your face in his hands and looking down at you with what could only be described as utter adoration.

“My love…”

From that point on, he was attached to your hip, following you everywhere you went like a lovesick puppy. Any time you were separated, he had severe anxiety, going back and forth from his dreamworld and reality. It was his coping mechanism, but it caused him to never understand what was real and what wasn’t.

You grounded him, made him feel safe and loved. Oh how he adored you. You had saved him from his lonely existence and taken him into your home as if he were a stray dog, and he was loyal like one. His loyalty came at a price, however, and that price was your freedom to do as you pleased.

Late nights out with friends became next to nonexistent, especially if he knew there would be any males there.

“I just want to protect you, my beloved. It’s a dangerous, cruel world. People will act as if they love you when they do not…”

And as you slowly became more and more isolated, his affections only grew. Kisses to your hand began to trail up your arm and to your neck. Snuggles turned into grinding and heavy petting, and even the most innocent of caresses became lewd in nature.

It didn’t take long for him to fuck you for the first time. After all, he had been pent up and alone for centuries, resisting taking you on the spot was excruciating.

The second he sunk into your pussy, he came. You were just so warm and your scent made his head fuzzy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you like a wild animal, feeding from your pretty neck as he filled you up over and over.

After the first time, a day didn’t pass by when he didn’t crave your intimate touch. Some days he was satisfied with heavy petting and kisses, others he couldn’t be satiated until his face was between your legs, lapping at your cunt for hours.

You were his, his mate, his lover. He couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore, so could you really blame him when he clung to you so tightly?

He just loved you, and he did such a good job at keeping you satisfied, just enough to where you didn’t look into the missing cases of your old lovers and male friends.

Why would you need to pay attention to any of that when your loving, attentive boyfriend was right there, ready to worship you from head to toe?

[tonycries]

Exes who…

Synopsis. Showing up to a party looking like that. What's a man to do when he just can't stay away?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, desperate boys, unprotected sex, NSFW, cunnilingus, pet names (my girl, babe), swearing.

Word count. 1.0k

A/N. This was supposed to be shorter, sorry lovelies. Art by @_3aem on Twitter.

Exes who know they should stay away, but one whiff of your perfume at some dingy party and he’s dragging you to the nearest bathroom. 

He’s pathetic, he knows, but right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he spreads you on that bathroom counter and dives face-first into your dripping cunt.

Greedily lapping at your juices, the taste of your pussy on his tongue was so addictive. Fuck, he missed this so much. 

He feels feral. Groaning lowly at the tug of your hand on his hair which hurts so good. He flicks his tongue harshly over your throbbing clit. More. He needs more.

“Hah- Fuck- Feels so good!”

“Yeah, jus’ like that, my girl.”

Making out with your pussy was almost as addictive as fucking you. You were a drug he couldn’t let up - he couldn’t get enough of. 

Nose-deep in your cunt, he tastes you over and over the way he imagined when he fucked his fist on those lonely nights.

Fingers digging into your thighs, he moves your legs so that they wrap around his head, bringing him impossibly closer to your hot core. He breathes over it - teasing - mouth watering at the sight of it getting wetter just for him.

He’s pretty sure your sinful moans and the squelching sounds could be heard above the overplayed pop on the other side of the door. Good, let them hear. It’ll teach that scrub outside that was eyeing you a thing or two about what he can’t have.

“Hngh- Baby, I’m gonna-”

Once you cum around his tongue, hips bucking wildly and clit catching on his nose as you ride his face, he thinks he’d be happy to die here if it was in-between your legs. 

A final peck to your quivering cunt - not a goodbye, no, he’ll be seeing this pretty pussy again - but a prelude for what was to come. 

Amidst heated kisses, he lets you taste yourself on his tongue as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. Fucking trousers - they come with too many fucking buttons. He wants to feel you now. Have your wet cunt pulsing around his painfully hard cock as he gets drunk off of your pretty moans.

So he does.

He only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but already feels like he’ll fucking pass out. He teases your entrance - willing himself to wait like he did all these past few months. This won’t be the last time - he knows - but he sure as hell is going to treat it like it is. 

“Tell me what you want, my sweet girl.” he huffs out, eyes boring into your dazed ones. Beautiful. You were always so beautiful.

“Please. I need you in me so bad.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Please, baby.”

Your lustful whimpers are what makes him snap. You were going to be the death of him. 

Fully sheathing himself in you, he fucks your pussy with a merciless cadence that has your nails digging into his shoulder at how painfully good you were stretched. Tight. So tight.

He feels himself losing his sanity as your cunt struggles to adjust to his size, walls clenching down on his throbbing erection. It’s animalistic - the way your pussy tries to suck him back in when he pulls out fully, only to ram inside you again.

“Shit- Pussy made jus’ for me. Only me.” he moans. 

One strong arm steadying himself on the counter, and the other with an almost-painful grip on your hip, he keeps up a pace that has his abs burning. Heavy balls stinging as they smack relentlessly against your ass. 

He bites down on your exposed neck to muffle the strangled groans ripping from his throat at the ethereal feel of your snug cunt - he needs to better drink in your fucked out yelps at his harsh thrusts.

His dick twitches inside when you start whining out his name as you reach closer and closer to your climax. He could do this forever. You were heaven on Earth.

In his hazy mind, he distinctly registers the jingle of the doorknob. Annoying fuckers can’t take a hint.

“Fuck off.” he barks out, “I’m fuckin’ my future wife in here.”

His heart clenches as you push your face into the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Pulling you closer to him in response - strings of slick and precum connecting you to him - he hopes whoever’s there up above strikes him down if he doesn’t wife you up. 

Ah…he’s so close.

There isn’t even a hair’s breadth between your two bodies as he fucks into you mindlessly, not even a trace of thought for the poor soul on the other side of the door. He’s got more important things to do - you.

“Baby- Shit. I’m so close.” your exhausted mewls are music to his ears. His balls tighten and cock aches for release. 

Teeth clenched and brows furrowed at how your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly, he grits out “Me too, my girl. Me too.”

Your legs tighten around his toned waist as your cunt clamps down on his thick length - sending both of you over the edge. 

He sees stars as he cums. Thick ropes painting your walls white and shaky whimpers of your name leaving his mouth like a prayer. You really were heaven on Earth.

Cum drips down the side when he slows down to shallow grinds of his hips, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he pulls his sensitive cock out of you.

With a long finger, he gathers the cum now slowly dripping out of you. Pooling it at his fingertips before popping them into his mouth, half-lidded eyes looking right into your fucked out ones. He moans around them as if tasting a delicacy, elated at the way your mouth drops in disbelief at his lewd act. 

He feels barely lucid as he snaps your panties back on you with a devilish grin and tucks himself back into his trousers. 

Unlocking the door to pointed looks he couldn’t care less about, he can’t keep his eyes off the alluring curve of your hips as you walk away back to the party - pretending like his cum isn’t making a mess of your panties right now. 

Dick twitching to life again, he pulls out his phone - unblocking you once more. 

– GOJO, Choso, Geto, Suna, ATSUMU, KUROO, Oikawa, Sakusa, JEAN, EREN

A/N. …Gimme a min I’m cooking up something for Suguru…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[jinwoosungs]

09/01/24; 04:40pm

{ 18+ headcanons / drabbles }

[ when they’re too busy with work, but you’re needy for them ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

it was the middle of the night when you woke up with a start, eyes going blurry as you blindly reached out to the opposite side of the bed-

only to realize that the sheets were cold to touch.

your sleepiness dissolves in an instant, with a soft yawn coming from your parted lips as you carefully get out of bed. a shiver courses through you upon feeling the cold marble against your feet, but you ignore such icy sensations.

opening the door out of the master bedroom, you wrap your arms around your chest, trying to keep in as much warmth that you could manage while making your way towards sylus’s office. there was a bit of a drag in your steps, your slow movements serving as sole evidence of your exhaustion-

but you would not sleep without sylus by your side.

finally reaching his office, you give the rich, oak door a series of knock, alerting your lover of your presence before inviting yourself inside. yet the moment you saw sylus settled on the expensive leather couch, you could feel your mouth turn dry.

he was dressed in a suit colored in ebony and crimson, the colors matching his aesthetic as his rufescent eyes meet with your gaze. an achingly soft smile graces his features, and you felt a pang of heat running down your spine at the mere sight of him.

gripping at the sheer material of your nightgown, your breathing comes out in uneven breaths. your eyes darken, mirroring your desires for him before asking, “sylus, won’t you join me in bed? it’s getting late.”

sylus’s eyes flash, giving you a momentary glimpse of lust while letting out a string of curses. “sweetheart, as much as i’d like to join you and keep you warm while in bed, i can’t. i’ve got to get these orders ready for my client.”

you bite down on your bottom lip, already feeling the moisture collecting from between your legs. not daring to look away from him, you slowly lock the door to his office, earning a raised brow from the onychinus leader.

you remain silent, stepping out of your ruined panties as you allow the flimsy material to fall to the ground. hunger was seen in sylus’s gaze the moment you shed your body free of your nightgown, allowing it to flutter to the floor before sauntering towards your lover.

sylus wastes no time pulling you closer to him, allowing your soaked cunt to pulsate against his thighs as you gently rode him, allowing your sticky sweet arousal to coat his suit.

“thats it, babygirl. keep on riding me, just like that. let me work for a little while longer, then i’ll take care of you.”

your gasps end up filling at the room, with sylus steadily losing interest in cleaning the weapons the moment you began bouncing up and down his thigh. his eyes had long since lost its crimson shade, becoming so dilated and filled with desire for you that he could feel his sanity snap.

needless to say, when sylus tosses the gun back on the table before unbuckling his pants, freeing his erection as he harshly grips at your thighs before impaling your slick heat against his cock, you lost all of your senses. being so filled with him after riding his thighs created such a hedonistic friction that you quickly became addicted to, never once stopping as you rode him with a desperation.

meanwhile, as luke and kieran were ready to deliver the next round of weapons, they froze upon seeing the office door locked as sounds of your breathy moans and sylus’s grunts were heard coming from behind the door. both twins end up looking at each other, their flustered expression hidden beneath their masks as they slowly backed away from the door.

it was best not to disturb their boss and his queen while in the middle of their trysts, a lesson that they were all too familiar with.

it was early in the morning at akso hospital, and as the staff were prepared to switch out with their coworkers for the upcoming shift, they would remain blissfully unaware of how a certain cardiac surgeon was still tied up and locked in his office.

zayne tries to hide back his groans, having to force himself to bite down on his fist the moment you came into his office. he had simply been going over some patient profiles when you came into his office with an almost dazed expression on your face.

he was filled with concern for you, already taking off his glasses while shoving his patient files to the side. one moment, he was filled with guilt for neglecting you for a few days due to how he wasn’t coming home as much-

and the next, zayne found himself settling back against his chair, with you remaining hidden beneath his desk as his cock was in your mouth. he was already half-erect the moment you began kissing his inner thighs, so it came as no surprise when he became even harder when you unzipped his pants and freed his cock from the confines of his boxers.

“i’m not mad at you.” you continue speaking to him, already stroking his cock in a loving manner before licking away the beads of precum that leaked from his mushroom tip. “i know you’re working so hard to save so many lives, but i wish to spoil you, too.”

zayne’s eyes were screwed shut the moment you place your hot mouth against his cock, feeling your tongue tracing at his veins while letting out a gasp of your name. his large hands automatically go into your hair, gently moving your head back and forth over his cock.

you hummed in pleasure, feeling the familiar twitch within your mouth. you had every intention to take him in as far as you could, yet zayne doesn’t even give you a chance to taste his cum when he harshly pulls your mouth away from his cock.

with a strength you didn’t think zayne was even capable of, you feel your lover shove aside the items on his desk before placing you on it. not even looking down at you, he slides off your soaked panties before shoving it into the pockets of his pants. gripping at your thighs, he spreads your legs apart before sheathing himself inside of you in one swift thrust.

“i need to make up for lost time… for neglecting you…” with heavy pants of your name, zayne grips at your leg before tossing it over his shoulder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head the moment he reaches oh so deeper inside of you all while kissing at your ankles.

and when your moans were heard echoing across the department, no one dared to question it.

“you’re such a brat.”

xavier was heard hissing at you, trying to keep his voice even as he was on the phone with one of the higher ups at the hunters association. here he was, trying to gather information for his mission next week while you were trying to free his cock from the confines of his pants.

“i can’t help it. you’re telling me you’re going to be gone for two weeks, and you expect me to behave?” you scoff, finally shoving down his pants to reveal his half-hardened cock. a cheshire cat grin paints your pretty features as you made quick work of stroking him to full hardness.

xavier lets out a hiss of your name, but has to swallow his moans when a stern voice was heard coming from his phone. “xavier, are you ready to receive details for this mission?”

“yes sir…!” a low gasp escapes from xavier’s lips the moment you place your lips on his tip, giving it a light suck. it takes xavier a herculean effort not to moan into the phone, feeling your hands and hot mouth fully sending him into an almost painful erection.

he catches bits and pieces of information, but was solely focused on the way your mouth and tongue traces at every inch of his cock. his breathing becomes heavier, feeling his impending climax approaching when you suddenly removed your lips away from him. the young hunter was all too eager to shove your face back against his cock when you slowly began to undress in front of him-

and dammit to hell, you just had to wear that lacy set beneath your clothes!

your soft giggle echoes throughout the room, and as you straddle him, he saw the way you moved the material of your lace panties to the side, ready to mount yourself on his cock.

“you’ve got it sir, i’ll be there next week.” luckily, xavier had already ended the call the moment you sheath his cock inside of your wet pussy, the squelching sounds of you riding his cock echoing throughout the living room. with a growl of your name, xavier grabs a hold of your waist before proceeding to bounce you up and down his cock at an almost inhuman speed.

“is this what you want? for me to ruin you completely that you won’t be able to walk until i return?”

your mewls and eager nods were all that he needed to continue pounding mercilessly into you, eyes already going dilated as he had every intention of claiming you.

“i’m going to make sure that my cock is forever imprinted against your sweet little heat… so be prepared for it, little brat…” he finishes his statement with a particularly hard thrust, making you see stars as you had every intention to ride him for as long as you could manage.

rafayel had long forgotten about his commissioned painting the moment you began to eagerly bounce up and down his cock. the moment he felt your slickness wrapping so tightly around him was when he lost all train of thought.

you had come home from work late in the evening and wished to greet rafayel. however, when you saw the portrait he was working on, you began to feel envious of the gorgeous girl seen painted on the canvas. he tried to explain to you that a governor had commissioned him to paint a portrait of his daughter for her 23rd birthday, but you didn’t wish to hear it.

and now, he found that he could care less about finishing such a portrait with you bouncing up and down so eagerly against his cock. filled with his own desperation for you, rafayel tries to meet your downward thrusts with his own upward ones, panting as he begins to lose his breath.

being so captivated and drunk off of you, the young artist could feel a whimper being ripped from the confines of his throat when you began kissing him, swallowing his grunts and moans of your name. as you continued to bounce up and down his cock, he could feel the curve of your breasts and your hardened nipples against his own chest.

“am i prettier than her?” you ask in a breathless whisper, purposefully squeezing your cunt over his pulsating dick. it was no competition in rafayel’s eyes. “o-of course you are- fuck! you’re the prettiest girl in the entire universe. you’re my fucking princess.”

a pleased hum was heard coming from you when you lay back against his lap, moving your hips up and down his cock at this brand new angle that had the artist seeing stars. “f-fuck… princess… you’re squeezing me so tight! l-like you want to milk me dry.”

“hehe, that’s the plan…” feeling your legs and cunt tightening so sweetly around him makes rafayel gasp, stilling his hips before shooting ropes of his seed deep inside of you. with you remaining laid back, your back against his thighs, you allowed your release to wash over you, earning a grunt from rafayel.

as your honeyed arousal further wets his softening cock, your lover leans over to press a searing kiss against your lips all while returning your body closer to him. his tongue fights with yours for dominance, and he lets out a pleased hum the moment you yield for him.

when the need for air proved to be too much, rafayel was the first to pull away from you, giving you a gentle smile before asking, “did our copulation manage to ease you of your envy?”

you give him a thoughtful expression, placing your pointer finger against your lips before smirking at him. his eyes end up going wide when you began to bounce up and down his limp cock, stroking it back to full hardness with a determination seen deep within your eyes.

“not quite yet, rafe… i’m going to need this to go on the whole night to make me convinced that i am the only woman for you.”

and with one final groan of your name, rafayel knew better than to deny you of your needs.

end notes: i am still soooo thirsty for my lads men, so have this post 🫠

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[peachedtvs]

ALASTOR TENDING TO LICKING YOUR WOUNDS ft!Alastor

✧ After an accidental paper cut, Alastor loses control momentarily and licks up your blood. 0.9wc

Imagine you and Alastor are staying up late one night, trying to decorate the hotel as a celebration for surviving the recent extermination.

All of this was your idea, Alastor simply tagging along as he was intrigued by how you were planning to decorate the hotel with mere ribbons and colored paper in a single night. The new renovations have expanded the hotel extensively, almost doubling its size—intriguing him on how your little passionate project could even be possible when done alone. If you were successful, Alastor could be content by the way Charlie's face would light up in the morning. If you failed, Alastor could soak up your disappointment! It was a win-win for him.

You furrowed your brows, hunched over a coffee table in the hotel reception, kneeling on the floor as Alastor sat reading not too far from you. You were focused on delicately carving the page before you, fingers delicately wrapped around a sharp paper-knife.

Outside, the rain was pouring. You never were a fan of thunderstorms, the booming sounds from outside snapping you out of your deep concentration every couple of minutes—some of the blaring clashes pairing with a bright flicker of light that made you flinch. Alastor found you amusing, being so passionate in something no one had asked you for, in something that would be unnecessary and also unnecessarily difficult for you to be done alone. The fact that you were pulling an all-nighter for this endeavor was even more entertaining, as you'd become all cranky once the next afternoon would come.

You let out a harsh sigh, your chest falling so far it seems as though you deflated. You regained your composure, holding your two hands close together as you pressed the page down into the table below—holding it in place as you carved a particularly intricate piece in the page when a shockingly loud crash thundered from outside. You flinched much too harshly this time, your wrist slipping and the paper-knife nicking the side of your index finger. You hiss, dropping the bloodied paper knife onto the table as it stained the pure white page below.

Alastor swore the air became heavier.

He didn't know what had so severely caught his instincts, but his wide eyes immediately darted to you before he could even process the situation—eyes locked onto the deep red trickling down your index. You hadn't even begun to notice him yet, hadn't noticed the way the air in the reception hall seemed to shift at the scent of your blood, how the light momentarily flickered.

You had such a sweet aroma.

An aroma that threatened Alastor's sanity.

Alastor's breath hitched sharply, snapping the book closed by the spine as he laid it as gently as he could upon the side table by his seat. Before he could even process it, your wrist was gripped into the palm of his hand—held firmly as you looked up to him.

The blood from your index trailed down the appendage, dipping down to the joint of your thumb as you looked up to him—startled by how quickly he had moved without you even noticing.

"Ala—"

"It would be wise to be more careful with that knife of yours, my Dear." He brought your wrist closer, his eyes locked on your hand. "Your clumsiness has put me in quite a difficult position." You looked at him intently, still sitting on the ground while Alastor was bent at the waist, holding your wrist up to meet his lips—when his tongue gently ran up the side of your palm before cleaning the blood smoothly. The moment he had your taste on his tongue, he felt his sanity slip away.

This wasn't like his usual respectful self, but he was unable to concentrate. Your flesh was euphoric. The kind he'd savor for weeks, the kind he wouldn't even need to cook or prepare beforehand. Fresh off the bone sort kind of sweet, a sickeningly addictive taste paired with a perfectly prominent metallic tang that had him wanting more.

Although, he was much too fond of you to rip you apart.

And so, Alastor vouched for slipping your finger into his mouth. His long tongue wrapped around the digit, a sting from his saliva sinking into the wound had you wince—your face looked beautiful in pain.

Alastor knew you trusted him, explaining why you hadn't pulled away. Instead, looking at him with a shocked and confused expression—ignoring your pain in his favor, just like the kind little soul you are.

Alastor pulled away, plucking a handkerchief from his pocket to clean your hand completely.

"My apologies, mon cher. I hope you didn't mind my little midnight snack." Alastor smiled to you, clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his lost composure. Although, he couldn't hide the lack of light in his eyes, and he couldn't suppress the wretched thoughts that clouded his head. He wanted to sink his teeth into your neck, to hear your pilant sounds of pain as he carved his bite into your flesh. He wouldn't tear into you, no. Simply mark you, border on the edge of savouring you in his mind completely and staying the gentleman he was raised to be.

In his own strange way, Alastor cared for you.

He wanted to wrap you into his embrace, overwhelm you as you'd tried to shrink away with nowhere to escape from him. He wanted to engrave your taste deep into his memory, to dig into your arms as he'd hold you scarily still.

For now, the only desire he could fulfill now laid upon his desk. A thin tendril of his shadows had swiped both the blood-soiled page and paper knife from the coffee table behind you and delivered it to his bedroom.

Alastor was no sentimental man, but he'd treasure a memory of your flesh to the grave.

You're watching...

© Peached TVs 2024

[feyascorner]

Imagine Tav who has a thing for deep voices (ahem Astarion’s when he gets all low and breathy and AHHHHH) and he notices. I’d combust

AGLAGKJL I HAVE OTHER REQUESTS BUT I SAW THIS AND I HAD TO WRITE IT IMMEIDATELY HES JUST SOOO....also warning this is a bit suggestive nothing terrible but i also haven't written anything other than fluff and angst in ages so i might be a little rusty....

You have barely any breath left in your lungs, and you think you wouldn't mind dying this way. He shoves the door to your shared room open with his back as you push him through it, lips molding against his in a heated wave of passion. Your fingers entangle themselves in his white curls, pulling at them just gently enough to draw out a low groan from his throat, and in an instant, he has your back pressed against the wall, both hands holding either side of your face as if it's the last time he'll get to touch you.

And as much as you wouldn't mind dying from suffocation here, being ever so perceptive, he pulls away to lean his forehead against your own, watching as your chest heaves up and down in a helpless attempt to catch your breath. He pinches one of your cheeks. "It's a relief that one of us needs air to remain conscious. If you were to become like myself, I'm not confident we'd actually ever stop."

"I never said we needed to stop," you say breathlessly.

"You don't need to tell me," he leans forward to press his lips against the area where he usually sinks his teeth into your neck. Instead of the familiar prick, all you feel are his cool lips peppering kisses on your skin. "Your body, and how it responds to me...it does all the talking for you."

And much to your embarrassment, his words are sent straight to the hammering of your heart. It must be the way he says it---so softly, yet rough. Teasing, yet honest. Low enough to drop his voice an octave but not enough to take away its usual charm. And the worst is the breathiness adorning his very words. For someone who doesn't need to breathe, he certainly sounds like he does it a lot.

You feel him nip at a sensitive spot of your neck and practically yelp, earning a snicker from the culprit in front of you.

"Your heart's beating quite fast, darling," he says slowly, almost in a whisper. "Are just a few words enough to rile you up so much?"

You remain silent, afraid all sanity you have left will snap if you dare to speak.

"But that's not all, is it? No, my sweet, you only feel this way about my words because I'm the one saying it," you can hear the grin in his tone. He pulls away from your neck, lifting his head back where he can meet your eyes. "Do you like when I say things like this? Vulnerable? Sensual? Seductive?--"

You slap your palms across his mouth, heat practically radiating off of your face, as you feel his fangs through his smile. He knows, you think, face paling. He knows how you respond to just his stupid voice, and you know him more than enough to expect the worst from the power you've given him. It's humiliating almost---but more than anything, you want him to shut up. To stop talking to you in that way that brings butterflies to your stomach, to stop looking at you as if you're the most desirable person in all of Faerun, to stop just existing in the moment---

Astarion gently pries your hands away from his face, satisfaction more than apparent in his expression. "No use being bashful now. I'm not offended at all. If anything, I'm rather flattered to know you find even my voice as attractive as the rest of me."

"Please stop talking."

"You don't mean that, clearly."

You grab a nearby pillow and smush it against his cheek, pushing him away.

With a soft laugh, he takes the pillow from your hands, placing it beside him to look at you properly. You want to hide away in a hole forever, but you can't do much other than look to the ground, beyond embarrassed. His obvious amusement doesn't do much to soothe you.

"Look at me, darling."

"Hells no."

"Will you listen if I whisper it to you?"

You shoot him a glare, and he laughs again.

So instead of convincing you any further, he takes either of your hands. His voice is low again, and you swear he's doing it on purpose. "We all have our quirks, my love. I enjoy drinking your delicious blood in our nights of passion, and you enjoy listening to my wonderful voice during them."

"Did you just compare this to being a vampire?"

"This and that. Same thing."

The quirk of your brow is enough to tell him of your annoyance, making him squeeze your hand with a grin. You'd throw him out if he weren't so pretty. Those long lashes, the white curls, that irritatingly beautiful shade of his eyes...Gods, you're helpless. But something tells you that the feeling is mutual. Wordlessly, you find yourself leaning closer again, and his grin stretches wider. "So talking lowly does seem to work its charm on you."

You snort, rolling your eyes. "Shut up and kiss me."

"As you wish."

[shaguro]

— ✰GORGEOUS | ONY

✧ synposis: fucking you after date night is one of ony’s favorite things to do. minors dni.

✧ shanti’s note: now that i got all the fluff out the way, i have to give yall the nasty shit. enjoy. 🩷

“look at you, takin’ this dick so good for daddy. so gorgeous.” ony groaned, his firm hold on your neck the only thing keeping you coherent. he always got like this after date night and could you blame him? that dress you had on tonight hugged every curve perfectly, high heels accentuated those milky brown thighs. it was only right that the man show appreciation to his gorgeous, gorgeous girl.

he had your legs by your ears as he pounded into you, filling you up with every inch of his dick. and your gummy walls sucked him back in with each roll of his hips, clamping down on him like a vice. “so tight, mama. f-fuck.” he hisses, sweat beads trickling down his glistening forehead. “you love this dick, hm? love when this dick all in your stomach like this?” you can’t even speak, only broken moans and strained pleas fell from your lips. and ony’s so mean, expecting you to respond when you can’t even think straight. but he doesn’t care, angling his hips and slamming them against your inner thighs, his thick tip kissing your cervix perfectly. he leans down, your thighs sandwiched against your stomach, the new, deep position had tears prickling at your eyes.

ony’s a demon, licking the stray tears off your cheek before he’s babbling in your ear, wet tongue tracing your earlobe. “t-tell me you love this dick—“ a deep moan rips from his throat and it’s so sexy, your pussy just gushing at the sound. “ima give you all this nut, gonna fill this pretty pussy—shit.”

“i love this dick d-daddy, you fuck me so— ony! ohmygod right theree.” you’re clinging to him so tightly and you can feel his biceps trembling, a tell-tale sign that he was close. only ony could have you in such a stuttering mess, trying to keep your sanity as he fucked you into oblivion. the man was filthy, it felt almost degenerate how your pussy was doing the talking for you, singing his praises — creaming so cutely around his dick, fluttering and squelching with each snap of his hips.

“this pussy talkin to me baby, ima give her what she want.” he taunted, canines on full display as he flashed a sinister smile. ony straightened his back, standing at his full height; one hand on your pudgy tummy, the other rubbing on your poor clit and that familiar heat formed in your belly, ready to snap at any moment. his thumb on your puffy clit had you seeing stars, no way you could last longer than this.

and ony knew this, that’s why he put both hands on your soft hips and gave you one final thrust, all his dick buried in your cunt.

you were cumming so hard — clenching and sputtering on his length that ony had to nut in you, filling you just like he promised. thick velvety ropes of cum coated your inner walls to the brim, to the point that it was dribbling down his brown shaft, a beautiful contrast to his dark skin.

ony’s eyes were dark and lidded as he looked down at you, drinking in the mess he created. he leaned down, holding your chin to give you a sloppy kiss. passionate, the both of you still panting from your combined orgasm as your tongues wrestled. he rested his forehead on yours when he pulled away, giving you this nasty look and you already knew what he would say.

“round two?”

@/hoesluvshanti, 2023-2024. do not copy, steal or repost my content without permission.

[chaosandmarigolds]

what??? What do you mean you don’t wanna hear-

Too bad ok

So my favorite genre of angst is what I lovingly refer to as ‘no hope angst’ and a PRIME example is:

Desperate CPR

Now for John Price it would be post OP, probably on an Evac back to the base or safe zone- where he was trying to ignore the obvious signs of decrease for his own mental sanity. And he did that until he couldn’t anymore, where you slumped forward in your seat after a few whines of pain. His forearms would burn from the forty minutes of shocks and compressions and ultimately Simon and Johnny would’ve had to drag him back

Now for Johnny MacTavish it would be a nonnegotiable, in his brain he stoped the bleeding so therefore CPR would totally fix a bullet to the heart. It wouldn’t matter that the skin was cold to the touch, it wouldn’t matter how his teammates screamed at him to get out of the fire zone- he had to save you. He had to get this right. He would happily die beside you if it meant he didn’t have to leave you.

Kyle Garrick would know something was wrong when you started to complain of ‘heart burn’ during a briefing, really it wouldn’t have been his fault but large of a poison dosage…it was a waste of time. For all the care and love he had it didn’t matter in that moment because he knew the tasks at hand, he would’ve snapped at anyone who suggested anything different, sweat beading up and even the medic telling him it was useless.

Then we have Simon Riley, who would’ve fought for you even before the announced death. His eyes would burn with tears that were never shed and he would cringe to the sound of ribs cracking under his weight. He would’ve relented with the medics took over and he wouldn’t have slept for days until you were officially announced brain dead and…well, according to him the rest is history.

:D teehee!

[entirelysein-e]

『 Fainting mid Sex 』

☼ synopsis: You faint while they fuck you and they take care of you in their very own way

☼ characters: Nanami, Choso, Toji

☼ wc: 1.4k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, sub!reader, fainting, gentle aftercare with Nanami, prone bone and accidental creampie with Choso, mentions of somno, cervix fucking, mean Toji, facial, slightly forced cum eating

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Nanami:

Nanami was cradling your face ever so gently as his hips rutted into you, rolling in a rhythmic and sensual way. “You feel so good around me, kitten” he groaned into your neck, his weight on top of you smothering you in the best way without being too much. It made you feel oh so full land the way he sucked purple marks all over your neck made your head spin, fearing to lose your sanity at the praise falling from his lips, his voice ripping your last piece of mind from you as the pleasure rippled through your body and just when your back arched - one of his strong arms wrapped around your waist to keep you in this position. Things became overwhelming quickly, your body going limp in his arms. The thought that you must have fainted didn't cross Nanami’s mind at first, only a few thrusts later when you were still so uncharacteristically quiet he moved his head from the crook of your neck, eyes going wide when he saw your eyes closed and body unconscious.

Without hesitation he pulled out from your tight cunt and held you close, cock throbbing by the ruined orgasm but that was his last concern. “Darling, wake up,” he gently shook you by the shoulders, soft words slowly waking your body up only to find his face right above yours, the worry etched in his brows when your eyes slowly fluttered open, your ears still ringing but it calmed him down to know that you're awake. “You fainted, my love” he whispered, a small smile creeping up his lips despite trying to remain serious - but how could he when you chuckled tired “guess you fucked me too well… Did you at least finish?” You asked in a soft voice and your question almost offended your lover who shook his head immediately. “I would never… not when you're unconscious.” he answered sincerely, cock still throbbing but your wellbeing was his top priority. He could finish himself off in the shower later, even if his hand couldn't compare to the tight walls of your cunt but you needed to rest now. Only if you insisted on finishing he would rub torturously slow circles on your clit to not overwhelm you by stuffing you full. If you'd rather rest, which is what was on his mind, he'd help you clean up and hold you close after bringing you something small to drink and to snack on. Nanami does not hold a grudge when you faint, your body only screaming for a break and he would grant it that, you've been taking his cock so well, you deserve to rest now.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Choso:

Choso was moaning above you, his hands alternating between holding the pillow that he shoved beneath your body, and your hips, his grip making sure to leave bruises that would grace your skin for the following days. “Nghhh… so close,” his voice came out broken and ragged, sounding so desperate for release between the sinful moans you let out of your lips. Prone bone always lets his cock kiss your cervix, feeling him so deep inside of you and threatening to take your last coherent thought, mewling and crying for him to go just a little harder, needing to feel him even deeper than before. Choso’s entire body was trembling with how much he held back his own release and giving you exactly what you asked for, his thrusts getting harder as his hips snapped against you repeatedly until you were a mess, wailing his name as if it's the last time you'll ever feel him inside of you but just as you were about to orgasm your body gave up, your consciousness fading and your walls naturally clenching to get rid of the intrusion in your limp body but it sent Choso over the edge, his hips stilling flush against yours as your name fell from his lips like a sinful prayer in the quiet night. Only when you didn't praise him like you usually would when he made you feel so good he got alarmed upon seeing the peaceful expression on your face. “Shit!” He pulled out right away and turned you around, cradling you into his arms into a sitting position and gently rocking back and forth until you woke up in his arms.

Your arms were slowly wrapping around his torso and Choso felt like he could finally breathe again when you opened your eyes. “Sweet, I apologize… I didn't realize you lost your consciousness,” he mumbled into your hair with such a soft voice, it was barely audible to your still ringing ears but you nuzzled your face into his muscular chest. “'s okay Choso. You know I don't mind it, you had and have my consent,” you remind him that he has full permission to continue fucking you when you faint or when you're asleep in general but he was never sure about it, feeling like this is close to taking you without consent. “How are you feeling? Do you want to go on? Should I draw a bath?” He asked, unsure what you're craving right now since your expression was unreadable to him - but in reality you just felt how his cum leaked out of your pussy, staining your thighs and the mattress beneath you. “Actually… why won't you be a good boy and use your tongue? Clean up the mess you made, hm?” You purred against his neck where you felt his hair slowly stand with goosebumps, knowing he'd love nothing more than to be your good boy, gladly lapping at your cunt until you're satisfied and his cum no longer staining you - only to fill you up anew.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Toji:

Toji was pounding into you from behind, one of his legs propped up for a deeper angle to fuck you full. “My little slut, clenching around me,” he mused as he reached for your hair to grab a fist full. Your neck was bent backwards with a pleasuring sting on your scalp that made you moan out loudly, trying to nod as best as you could with the grip he had on you, your voice long gone and only able to make wonton noises, begging for your release. “So desperate for my cock,” he grinned down at your needy frame and pushed your head down into the pillows where he held your upper body down between the shoulder blades, one strong hand enough to pin you down.

The new angle made it hard to breathe, his huge cock fucking into your womb and making it feel like you're getting impaled but it's what you craved - something only Toji could provide and when his free hand came down in a harsh smack on your ass, your entire body began to shake in pleasure - too much to handle but just the right amount to take you closer to the edge. Just as you were about to scream out his name, the knot so close to snapping and releasing the tidal wave of pleasure over your body - you went limp, moans and cries ceased entirely, making Toji smirk. His hand went back into your hair to lift your head “fucking bitch,” he scoffed upon seeing you unconscious and your head dropped back into the pillows while his hips continued their harsh plowing.

He couldn't care less that you fainted, your cunt tightened so deliciously around his cock, bringing him closer to his own gates of heaven, only to pull out and manhandle your body to face him. Your eyes fluttered open when his hot cum painted your face in small spurts, landing on your lips, your cheeks and some on your lashes. “Good morning princess,” he groaned, his fist working harder on his cock to milk himself empty over your face, your whined complaints music to his ears. “Oh I know you hate this,” he chuckled as his hand came down to your face, smearing his cum over your lips before slipping three fingers into your unwilling mouth to make you taste his seed and you gagged from the intrusion. “Be a good girl next time and you get it in your greedy cunt,” he mused as he tapped your cum covered cheek before getting up from the bed, still holding a hand out for you to take. Toji is an asshole that loves to see you suffer a little, but the way you giggle when going to the shower with him lets him know you wouldn't want it any other way and that's what he loves about you. You always come back for more.

Networks: @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[pparadiselost]

appetite.

von lycaon x fem reader von lycaon is thoroughly dedicated when it comes to serving his lady. warning(s): nsfw, edging, squirting, slightly possessive von lycaon minors do not interact.

“my lady…,” a deep voice rumbles from between your legs, and a strong force pushes on each of your thighs to keep them from snapping shut, “you’ll make my job very difficult if you don’t cooperate with me.”

if you had even half of your mind still with you, you might have done something about everything happening to you. but there’s only so much of your sanity you can cling to, especially when there’s a handsome wolf on his knees in front of you. his tongue laps greedily at your exposed cunt, the rough texture making your legs tremble uncontrollably as he spreads his love all across your drooling slit and up to your throbbing clit. 

“‘m sorry-!” you choke out, your blown out mind scrambling to form some kind of half-baked apology. “it’s too good- so intense…”

you can see him barely bite back a well-deserved smile of satisfaction at your breathless praise, and his eyebrow quirks slightly. he hums, not bothering to give you a proper response, before his paws are clutching at the meat of your thighs again. you barely stuff down a deep breath through your mouth before he’s making out with your pussy again. your fingers curl helplessly around the table’s edge that von lycaon has you perched on, wrapped completely around his finger as he eats you out like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

you might as well be. he might be well-trained and a gentleman, but he’s still a wolf with an appetite for pretty things like you. and you look like you're having the time of your life too—your eyes are glossy with hazy pleasure, and your body’s already threatening to fall apart at the seams. it’s a job well done for von lycaon, and he likes it. he likes knowing how easily he’s getting you to crumble under his touch and just from his tongue too.

he breathes deeply against your cunt, and a moan gurgles from the back of your throat as he circles your hole. the tip of his tongue presses into you, breaking past the tight ring of muscle. your juices spread against the inside of his mouth, filling his senses with nothing but you. had he been any sloppier of a man, just your scent might have been enough to overwhelm him, but the need to pleasure you and do his duty as he should takes priority in his mind.

he thrusts his tongue slowly into you, making sure to drag the rough texture of the broad of it against your fluttering walls. you throw your head back as your walls clamp down on him, your insides twitching against the intrusion. heat shoots through you like a bullet, and it gnaws on every part of you from inside out. von lycaon has your body playing in the palm of his hand like a puppet, and you’re left at his mercy as he keeps you spread out for his perusal.

he swirls his tongue inside of you, pumping the muscle in and out, expertly imitating the motions of penetrative sex. he’s already reaching so deep inside of you, completely dominating your inner walls. it feels so good, and it’s so hot; your mind feels so hazy and cloudy as you try to make heads or tails of all the sensations flooding through you. hot flashes press against your stomach, your climax threatening to mount every part of you. 

“von lycaon!” you mewl out, toes curling as he repeatedly fucks his tongue into you. the wet sounds of him going down on you reverberate against your ears, and your gut coils in on itself. “ohhhhhhh fuck- fuck, you’re so deep inside me… fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum…!”

you shudder when he yanks his tongue out of you in one fell swoop, only to swirl it around your clit provocatively. despite how gentle and sympathetic he is in his mannerisms, the way he touches you is almost like he’s trying to tease you, like he finds some kind of twisted satisfaction in seeing the way you respond to him. he’s awfully perceptive, and his eyes narrow slightly as he looks up at you.

“such profanities…,” he breathes. your breathing stalls when his tongue laps at his lips. strands of your arousal coat his snout, and you can see his throat visibly bob as he swallows your wetness down. he hums again, the sound akin to that of a happy purr. “and in your sweet voice too. you’ll break my heart, my lady.”

his voice is hushed, deep, and it makes your stomach lurch with need. “‘m sorry- please, i can’t think… felt so good inside me, your tongue felt good inside me.”

“ah?” he nears you again. “would you mind indulging me for a second then? which do you prefer? when i do this-?”

-he leans close to your pussy, and you moan out his name as his tongue delves inside of you again. his tongue swirls around your insides, and he toys with your arousal. you’re practically leaking on his tongue, struggling against his tight grip on your thighs as you desperately buck your hips into his mouth. he’s stretching you out on his tongue again, fucking deep into you and leaving you breathless and crying out. 

just when you’re starting to get used to having him buried inside of you again, he pulls away from you with an affectionately wolf-like smile on his handsome face. “-or when i do this?”

you blink up numbly at him before he latches onto your clit. you grit your teeth together, clenching your jaw as he flicks the tip of his tongue over your swollen nub. he keeps attacking your clit without a moment for you to regain your stream of consciousness, plunging you relentlessly into another cycle of heat and electricity clawing at your skin. your senses are working overtime to keep up with the way he stimulates your clit. his sharp teeth ghosts over your engorged bud, only to soothe it over with a sticky kiss and pressing it fully against the broad of his tongue.

there’s a second pulse building dangerously inside of your gut, the tightness welling up and feeling as if it’s going to suffocate you from the inside out. you’re really not going to last too long with him teasing you like this, alternating his technique as if he isn’t doing this just to watch you fall apart on his long tongue. he’s so attentive, so keen and sharp-witted, and everything he does is to ensure nothing but the utmost pleasure to you.

“i-i don’t know-,” you slur out, your brain hazing over. he hums against your cunt, alternating quickly between showering your clit with attention versus stretching you out on his tongue. it’s too much to keep up with, feeling him attacking your g-spot inside of you to torturing your sensitive bud, and you’re shaking under his touch. “von lycaon, i can’t take it- can’t take much more, it’s too much!”

“my, such an impatient lady… is it so wrong of me to want to take my time with you?” he swallows down more of your slick, sighing blissfully as if he can’t get enough of your taste. he really can’t, not when he’s enjoying the sight in front of him this much. a pristinely pretty girl, reduced to a thoughtless trembling mess, all because he decided to have a taste? all of this was more of a reward to the wolf than it was duty, but your pleasure always came before everything else.

“you’re edging me-,” you gasp out as if he’s hurting you. “you’re going to edge me.”

“and you’re going to take it for me. won’t you be good for me?” he’s messing with the pulsing inside of your stomach. every time your walls twitched just too much or your voice got too panicked, he’d slow his pace down, and you’d be left to helplessly bury your fingers into his fur and try to grind down more of your glistening cunt against his mouth. it’s unfair that he can do this to you without batting an eye, but you can’t do anything other than to cry out. 

your begging is such a delightfully melodic sound to the starved wolf, but it falls on deaf ears. he’s intent on making you feel good, but you’re going to have to abide by his rhythm.

“oh fuck- wanna cum- please- don’t tease me like this…!” you’re crying and squirming, and the whole thing just feels so good. you’re melting away like nothing under his touches, and your whole body’s being consumed and eaten from the inside out by the stiflingly hot pleasure. he expertly swirls his tongue against you the way you like it best only to pull away when you need it most, and the satisfied glimmer in his narrowed eyes tells you everything you need to know without a single word from him.

“tell me then,” he whispers after what feels like an eternity of being edged and brought to the brink, over and over again only to be met with crushing disappointment. your womb pulses almost painfully inside of you with how much your climax has been built up to be denied, empty and tight and so sensitive to even the smallest of touches from the wolf. he kisses your clit chastely, the touch sticky and so pure despite the absolutely obscenity before him. “who was it that took care of you tonight? who was it that held you so dearly and worshiped you? who was it that made you feel so good that you let go of all of your pride as a dear patron of victoria housekeeping?”

it’s shallow, he knows that, but the possessive part inside of him that loves seeing you reduced to this sniffling mess of skin and bones, captive to everything he has to give you, revels in your fall. your voice is so weak and hoarse, yet the desperation that drips from him only makes him want to push you until you break.

but no, von lycaon is a gentleman with a purpose. he’s kind, only if it means you’ll come crawling right back to him. maybe it’s like a master plan, but he likes to think of it as a form of love.

you blink through the tears clumping up at your waterline, hot and threatening to fall onto your unmarred face. you don’t need to be told twice: the firm edge to the wolf’s voice is enough to cling to. “it’s you- it’s always you! please, von lycaon, i can’t take this anymore…! let me cum, let me cum, please! you’re the only one that makes me feel good- you’re all i need-”

your senseless, sex-drunk babbling has his heart feeling warm. he likes it when you tug impatiently at the fur on his head, the gray hairs like in between against your knuckles. he thinks there isn’t a more perfect lady for him to serve, and he’s sure to come running at a moment’s notice if you need someone to quell your loneliness again. he’s a devoted servant, a compassionate gentleman, and an unforgiving lover.

“good, good,” he purrs, and you shudder when his tongue laps at your drenched and abused hole. “i had faith that you would remember, but i want to make sure you would never forget. after all, i am your dedicated personal attendant, aren’t i? i want nothing but the best for my lady, and that means being the one at your side closer than anyone else. surely you understand?”

“yes- yes, of course- all yours, von lycaon!” you nod feverishly. heat blooms in your core like a repeated strain, and you groan. he’s at it again, rubbing circles into your clit with his deft fingers and fucking you out on his tongue. your insides keep rubbing up against him, clamping down on the wet muscle as if they’re starved of any and all stimulation, dragging your poor battered body back to the precipice like you’re addicted fiend you can’t seem to get enough.  

it doesn’t take much for you to fall apart. you’re already so sensitive, wound up and ready for him like a pretty doll hidden inside of a music box, the perfect vision of ecstasy for von lycaon’s hungry eyes. you cum all over his mouth with a strangled cry, and his big fingers keep pressing and circling your clit. you’re not just cumming for him: you can feel something warm and wet gush from between your thighs, but all you can register is just how good it feels for the heat and the tightness in your stomach to finally, finally release.

you can’t fully form any coherent words, only broken sobs and cries. pleasure consumes you wholly, enveloping you like a starved monster. you’re only vaguely aware that you squirted all over his face because something feels different. your body feels lighter, happier, like there’s cotton stuffed in your ears and something akin to an otherworldly bliss makes your limbs feel like they’ve turned into dust. you’re melting away as von lycaon drinks up the sight of your fucked out face, obscured with mind-blowing pleasure all because of something he did. 

your thighs are drenched, and so is the lower half of his face. he eats up your juices like he had been without question this entire time, but knowing that he made you feel so good that you ended up squirting makes you taste different in his mouth. there’s a sticky sweetness that clings to the inside of his mouth, and while he might have had his fill for now, the wolf knows that he’s going to be craving that taste again very soon. your legs shake uncontrollably around his head, and you’re practically collapsed against the table. you look almost happy with your eyes glossed over and sweat beading like pearls on your forehead. 

it’s a job well done for him. he takes just a breath’s amount of time to admire his handiwork, just how easily he can make your body succumb to him with some practice and patience. it’s good knowledge, knowledge that he’s bound to keep tucked away somewhere deep inside of his heart.

but his task is far from over. he’s going to clean you up and wish you a good night before disappearing, the line between love and duty a thin but far one. if it’s any consolation to him though, he knows that you’ll call victoria housekeeping within a few weeks again, with that pitifully lonely tinge to your voice as you politely request him to come keep you company for a little while. and each time, he’s going to show up at your door with a disarmingly saccharine smile. it’s a song and dance that has no end, but if this is the best way for him to get closer to his beloved lady, then von lycaon can learn to enjoy it as much as you do.

you’re always the first to give in, and with time, the wolf is sure that’ll remain true in the long run.

if you enjoyed my writing and would like to show appreciation, you can do so by donating to these vetted gofundmes to help families!

[cactus-cuddler]

🅒🅞🅤🅡🅣🅢🅘🅓🅔

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word count: 1,7 k

Plot: While reading in a park, you unexpectedly run into one familiar faces—Sam Wilson, your old high school friend, and his colleague, Bucky Barnes. Sam humorously pushing the two of you together. Despite Bucky’s awkwardness and Sam’s meddling, you find yourself drawn to Bucky’s genuine nature, leading to a sweet first date and the promise of more to come.

Author's note: sorry for my bad English

You’re at the park, trying to channel your inner bookworm by reading outside like those romantic novel characters who always seem so serene. The only available bench, however, is inconveniently located in front of a basketball court. At first, it’s peaceful—the court is empty, and the summer breeze is making you feel like this might just be the best idea you've ever had.

But then, the peace shatters as the distant sound of children’s laughter and shouts approaches. You sigh, deciding to stay put. They’re just kids, after all. At least, you hope so. Teenagers, you remind yourself, are a different story. They’re like wild animals—unpredictable, loud, and far too aware of the chaos they can cause. You were one not long ago; you know this all too well.

The court quickly fills with noisy kids, and then, two men join the fray. One is a tall, African American guy with a goatee and sunglasses, exuding confidence. The other is a muscular man with a vibranium arm—yes, vibranium—and a look that says he’d rather be anywhere else. Your book, once a portal to another world, now seems less interesting with these two towering figures before you, dressed in tank tops and basketball shorts like they just stepped out of a fitness magazine.

“Kids, keep it down! There’s a young lady trying to read over here!” the guy with the goatee shouts, pointing directly at you. You blush, sinking into your seat. Great. Now you’re not just a background character; you’re the center of attention. Getting up and leaving would only make things worse.

You lower your head, desperately trying to look absorbed in your book, but the words are just a blur now.

“Hi there, young lady!” The same guy calls out, strolling toward you like he owns the place. The other man, the one with the vibranium arm, follows reluctantly, looking like he’d prefer to melt into the ground. As they get closer, something clicks. You know that voice. It's Sam Wilson—the guy who used to talk to you in high school, the one who was always kind when no one else was.

“Sam?” you blurt out, closing your book and standing up with a smile.

“Hey, beautiful! What brings you here?” he asks, leaning in to kiss your cheeks like no time has passed.

“I live around here,” you reply, and he grins, launching into an explanation about how he and his friend, Bucky Barnes (yes, that Bucky Barnes), teach basketball to local kids.

“This is my buddy Bucky. I wish he’d stop flirting with my sister, though. You seem more his type,” Sam teases, nudging Bucky, who looks mortified.

“I don’t flirt with your sister,” Bucky grumbles, clearly frustrated.

“And what about that look you give her?” Sam presses, and Bucky, flustered, attempts to defend himself.

“It’s called a friendly expression.”

“You don’t know how to be friendly. Admit it, that’s your flirty look,” Sam insists.

“This one?” Bucky flashes a smile that could make hearts stop.

“Tell me if that’s not a flirty look,” Sam asks, turning his gaze to you.

“That’s definitely a flirty look. Very effective, by the way,” you add, earning a high-five from Sam while Bucky rolls his eyes skyward.

“Well, you should be happy if your friend likes your sister,” Bucky retorts.

“Except that friend tried to kill Captain America a couple of times,” Sam quips, and you decide—for your own sanity—to believe that’s a joke.

“You promised not to bring that up again!” Bucky snaps, clearly exasperated, but Sam just pats him on the shoulder.

“So, how about you go out with him?” Sam asks, turning back to you with a grin. “But if he tries anything, just call me. The Falcon will come to your rescue,” he adds with a wink.

You chuckle at Sam’s antics, but there’s something about Bucky that intrigues you. Maybe it’s the quiet strength in his eyes, or the way he’s trying so hard to maintain his cool around Sam’s teasing. Whatever it is, you feel a spark of curiosity.

“Well, if Bucky’s interested, I wouldn’t mind a coffee date,” you say, surprising yourself with your boldness. Bucky’s eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, he looks completely caught off guard.

Sam laughs, clapping Bucky on the back. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a date, Buck!”

Bucky glances at you, checking if you’re serious. You give him a reassuring smile, and he quickly looks away, cheeks tinged with the slightest blush.

"I'm sure you'll get along. He read “The Hobbit” as soon as it came out!" Sam exclaims, and you can't help but be a little impressed.

As the day winds down and the kids' mothers arrive to collect them, Sam invites you to join them for a drink at a nearby bar. You’re eager to catch up with Sam, who you’d lost touch with after high school. You share stories, laugh about old times, and it feels like no time has passed since you last hung out.

"Back in school, Sam was the only one who talked to me. He'd always pop up from nowhere, scare the daylights out of me, and drag me to whatever crazy thing he had planned, like alcoholic parties when he was always finished drunk and try to find me a boyfriend dating his friends" you say, laughing at the memories.

“That sounds annoying,” Bucky adds, and you nod in agreement, much to Sam’s mock offense.

"You seemed so close, why did you stop talking?" Bucky asks while sipping the draft beer he ordered.

"I joined the army, became Falcon and didn't have much time to keep friends anymore," Sam replies looking at the table with nostalgia caressing his face "but every time I feel nostalgic I look at our old photos," he finally says and you smile at him.

As the evening wraps up, you exchange numbers with Sam and Bucky. Just as you’re about to leave, Bucky catches you when Sam isn’t looking.

“So, tomorrow…” you start.

“Let’s meet at the park, if you want,” he suggests, his tone soft but sure. You smile at him, pleasantly surprised by his forwardness.

“I saw that!” Sam shouts, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. You both jump, just like back in high school.

“Damn it, Sam!” Bucky exclaims as Sam bursts into laughter.

The next afternoon, you arrive at the park dressed simply but with a hint of elegance. You didn't want to overdo it, but you wanted to make a good impression. Bucky is already there, playing basketball by himself. You watch him for a few moments—he's really good. When he notices you watching, he blushes slightly, clearly a bit embarrassed.

"Want to take some shots?" he asks, and you nod, knowing full well that you’re terrible at basketball. But Bucky is patient, guiding you through each shot, his hands steadying yours as he stands close behind you. His chest brushes against your back, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. It’s more than a little distracting, but somehow, you manage to score. He smiles, clapping his hands in approval, and you can't help but cheer.

“They’ll definitely sign me to the NBA by the end of the day, right?” you joke.

“Absolutely. A tall man in a suit will show up any second now,” he replies, chuckling. You both share a laugh, and he gives you a look that’s all kinds of sweet.

After you’re both too tired to keep playing, Bucky surprises you with a bouquet of flowers he’d hidden on the sidelines. You’re impressed, and silently thank yourself for always carrying deodorant and perfume. You offer him some deodorant, and he accepts without hesitation, even though it’s clearly for women.

“Perfume?” you ask, holding out the bottle, and he shakes his head, probably thinking it’s too “girly.” But you spray some on him anyway, and he starts coughing, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Has Sam rubbed off on you with his disregard for people’s choices?” he teases, and you giggle at his joke.

You walk side by side, talking about your lives. You find yourself increasingly fascinated by him. Compared to his epic saga, your life feels like a short story, but he listens intently, making you feel like every word you say matters.

“I had a great time. Thank you,” you say as you stand in front of your door, smiling up at him.

“Me too,” he replies, his voice soft. You lean in, leaving a gentle kiss on his cheek. You can see the blush creep up his face, and it only makes him more endearing. You're already thinking about your next date—this one went far better than you could have imagined.

Just as you’re about to say goodbye, Sam appears out of nowhere, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Guys, this date is missing all the essentials!” he exclaims, causing both you and Bucky to jump. Bucky groans, clearly exasperated.

“No candlelit dinner? No romantic phrases? Not even a kiss under the moon? Come on, guys! I’m trying to organize a wedding by the end of the summer. We don’t have time to take things slow,” he jokes, winking at you.

“Don’t listen to him. We can take our time and see each other again,” Bucky reassures you, his eyes locking with yours in a way that makes your heart flutter.

“You could’ve at least taken her to your place and shown her your amazing couch!” Sam insists, clearly not ready to let it go.

“You’ve never even been to my house! Stop talking about my couch,” Bucky grumbles, rolling his eyes. You can’t help but laugh at their banter—it’s clear these two have a friendship built on teasing and mutual respect.

"You two have another date tomorrow," Sam finally declares, pointing at both of you with a smug grin. Bucky waves goodbye, and as he turns to leave with Sam, you can't help but feel a warm sense of anticipation for what’s to come. Sam, of course, is already giving Bucky a barrage of unsolicited tips on how to "improve" the next date.

As they walk away, you stand there for a moment, still smiling, your heart light and your mind already replaying the best moments of the day. You’re looking forward to seeing Bucky again—he’s sweet, awkward in the most charming way, and there’s a connection between you that feels genuine, like something that could really grow.

And as much as you appreciate Sam’s meddling, you’re glad that Bucky wants to take things slow, to give you both the time to get to know each other. It’s refreshing and makes you even more excited for tomorrow.

As you head inside, you can still hear Sam's voice in the distance, likely teasing Bucky about that "flirty look" of his. You laugh to yourself, feeling grateful for the unexpected turn your day took. It’s funny how life works—what started as a quiet afternoon at the park with a book turned into something so much more.

[11rosebunny]

Turn ons (BOFURIN + SHISHITOREN)

a/n: this is a repost from my wattpad, take this for now as i struggle for my exams…

Haruka Sakura

•Girls that fight back.

He's not so much of a romantic person so many of his turn ons do not have any correlation to anything that falls deeper into the aspects of romance.

But he does get off to the sight whenever you talk back to someone you refuse to let disrespect you. Even if you fight back with him, as much as he may seem he's annoyed, he's actually intrigued in the way you snap back making him grin at your remarks.

Some say he's sadistic for that (Suo).

Hajime Umemiya

•When you smell good.

He doesn't find it weird to openly go up to you and take a wiff of your scent. It was a complete accident the first time he smelt your aroma. You and him met up outside of school for the first time alone and because of that, he was able to smell your perfume.

He doesn't know why it gets him riled up, it's even come to a point when you two finally started dating, he wouldn't remove his head away from your neck whenever you were laying on his bed with him.

•Eye contact.

He absolutely digs the way whenever you two stare at each other. Something about the way your eyelashes bat at him as he falls into a deep gaze into yours makes him lose all sanity. He may seem like he's doing fine on the outside but on the inside, his itching to shove you to a wall and ask what you're doing to him.

Toma Hiragi

•When you're submissive.

This isn't put in a way to come off as sexual, it's whenever you simply comply to anything he says. It may sound toxic but he enjoys it when you listen to his orders, regardless if it stops you from doing something you really wanted to do, making you put on a jacket because it was too cold, ensuring you'll text him as soon as you get home, or when he tells you to help him with something.

Taiga Tsugeura

•Wearing his clothes

His wardrobe is quite boring to say the least; plain colours, bland shirts, and mostly shorts. But even so, he enjoys it whenever he walks by you and notices you're wearing one of his shirts.

He'll know right away that it's his due to the sheer size of it and the way it drapes on your body. It makes him go all giddy and smiley when he sees you. He has to look away or else you'll notice the blush dusting on his cheeks.

Mitsuki Kiryu

•When you're embarrassed.

There's a difference between being shy and embarrassed. If you so happen to get shy, he knows he shouldn't be finding interest in that because that's when you are genuinely nervous.

However, if you do get embarrassed, stuttering all over the place, blush creeping up on your face, eyes darting everywhere but his, a little alter ego of himself takes over in his head watching you melt into a puddle of ice cream.

He finds it so entertaining at the way you can't look him in the eye. He'll accuse you of going red and instigate your fumbling even further just for the fun of it.

Hayato Suo

•Accidental touches.

He tries to maintain being respectful but as soon as your hand brushes over his, his chest accidentally touching the back of your shoulder blade, the way youre faces get too close if he's helping you clean something off your cheek, it drives him nuts at the way you look at him.

He may seem calm and collected on the outside, but with how he's flickering his eyes to your lips and your eyes, you can tell if he wasn't holding himself back he probably would have smashed his lips onto yours by now.

Jo Togame

•When you make the first move.

He knows he's tacky for this but he can't help but to love the feeling of being chased by someone he likes.

He's all up for the way you two basically bicker with each other when he knows deep down you want him just as much as he does too.

He loves acting like he doesn't care till at the very last moment he'll say something so breathless that you'll be thinking about it for the next few days.

•Putting your hair up.

He also thinks he has a type for sporty girls due to the fact he just purely doesn't know what his exact type of women is.

If you're getting annoyed at the way your hair continues to fly in your face, need to focus, or simply just want to tie it, he loves watching the process of you tying it up for whatever reason.

Tomiyama Choji

•Fun to be with.

He has trouble being romantic and when he does, it's usually the worst thing you've ever experienced.

So if you two date, you have to expect most of your time with him to be more like fun play dates.

He likes the way you're able to make him laugh and want to do more menacing things with you, even if it ends up with one of you being in trouble.

•PDA.

You can argue this one to him but no matter what, he loves it when you publicly show others that your his.

If you hold his hand, take pictures with him in public, hold his arm, he thinks it's one of the best things you could do to show off your significant other.

It gives him the sense that you're possessive over him. As bad as that sounds, he loves it when you're willing to be aggressive to other people that try talking to him.

[nomazee]

Um hello! Is the 1k event thingy still up?? If so I would like to request a classmate! Dr ratio x reader at 2:47 am?

it's actually sickening how much fun i had with this i was giggling at my own jokes while typing this out... this was so fun to write THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!!

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

A blaring, aggravating, shrill sound wakes you up. Your hands go to cover your ears, protecting your sanity from the noise ringing somewhere from the tangle of sheets on your bed. Hands flailing around desperately to find the source of the piercing chimes, you writhe around in agony until you finally latch onto your phone. 

The brightness of the screen digs into your corneas as you lift up the device to see the caller ID of whoever had the guts to bother you on a school night. 

It comes to no surprise that the caller name reads “VERITAS FUCKING RATIO” in all caps with no contact photo. Your eye twitches and the grip on your phone tightens, just a hair away from leaving finger-shaped dents in the metal. 

Begrudgingly, you answer the call, tucking the phone next to your ear with nothing less than displeasure. “Veritas. Why are you calling me at—” you pull your phone back to check, “—almost three in the morning?” 

“The works cited page,” Veritas Fucking Ratio informs you matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of sleepiness in his voice, nothing that could possibly chip away at his good image, of course. “You did it in the wrong format. It’s supposed to be APA. This is a science project, not a literature project.” 

You might kill him. The project in question is to be presented tomorrow— today at ten in the morning. Ratio and you had been working on it for an entire two weeks, broken up into intermittent hour-long sessions because he was adamant that you split up the work instead of rushing to do it all the night before. Stupid self-righteous gorgeous beautiful academic genius-freak. Yeah, it definitely helped you in the long run, but he acted so sanctimonious about it that you refused to admit the benefits. 

“Veritas,” you imbue the syllables of his name with poison, as much as you can when you’re swaying as you sit up on your bed and fighting demons to not fall back asleep. “This is such an easily-fixed thing. Do you know what time it is right now? Why are you even awake? You know, I am supposed to get a full seven hours of sleep every night, and I was already cutting it short today, and you woke me up before I could even hit REM sleep. Do you know how upsetting this is? Fix the goddamn works cited yourself!” 

For once, Veritas is at a loss for words. The other end of the line is so quiet that you have to double check and make sure he hasn’t just hung up on you. Perspiration builds on your palms, thinking that this is it—this is the exact moment that you make Veritas-Fucking-Ratio snap and delete your name off the project credit slide, and you’re going to get a 0 because he will wipe off any evidence of your work from this plane of existence, and you will spend the rest of your measly life chasing after your MLA-turned-APA works cited page, too-little-too-late. 

“I’m awake because the— well.” He pauses, and his voice sounds so far away and unobtrusive that you’re almost worried. Your breath stills in the middle of your diaphragm. Waiting. “The works cited is one thing. But I wanted you to look at the slides, if you can.” 

If you can, he says, as if he’s giving you a choice, which he literally never has during this entire process. You had no role in choosing the topic, or the slide theme, or what days you worked on the project, or how often you worked on the project (because god forbid you procrastinate a little bit, right?!), but now, at almost three in the morning, Veritas is saying something along the lines of oh please my dearest project partner, I request that you open the Google Slides at once, but only if you would like to! I would never infringe on your free will at three in the morning, because I respect you as a partner. Or something like that. That was pretty much the gist of it. 

A raspy sigh escapes you, and you claw your busted laptop off the nightstand next to you, opening it up and squinting at the LED screen as you punch in your passcode. “You know, I have done a good job at going along with all of your whims, Veritas, the least you could do is fix the works cited for me. Seriously, how did you even miss that? You’re so detail-oriented, but you didn't even realize the format was wrong until tonight? Who even cares, seriously… it’s just a slideshow…” 

Your voice trails off as the slideshow presentation finally loads in. You see Veritas’ default profile picture blink in the upper right-hand corner, signaling that he’s viewing the slideshow with you. The slideshow which has apparently undergone a huge makeover. 

It’s—pleasant to look at. This entire time, you and Veritas had been editing a default, white-background black-serif-font-text slideshow. He refused to change it, telling you that it’s unprofessional to do anything too embellished, to which you fruitlessly said, Veritas, we will die early deaths because of the hole in the ozone layer, would you at least make it easier on my poor soul by letting me choose a pokemon-theme slide? Veritas had pretended like he couldn't hear you (in a very quiet library room, mind you), but the twitch in his brow gave him away. 

Now, though, the slides are decorated. It’s a really nice theme, complete with custom icons and graphic blobs of color—your favorite color, might you add. It’s—pretty. Dare you say, cute, but you think Veritas would vaporize your entire presentation if you called it cute. 

“Did you— this— did you pay for this slide theme?” 

“You— n— mn,” he trails off into an unintelligible mash of mumbling, and you hear a loud THUD that sounds awfully like the phone being thrown onto a mattress. Fabric shuffles around, before you hear Veritas’ voice again, clear and composed. “Sorry. I dropped my phone.” What a loser, and a liar, and an endearing freak. You really wish he video called you because you need to see his totally-very-ugly face. 

“I thought this was unprofessional, Veritas,” you say teasingly, a smile lining your words as you try not to giggle right into the phone. “What made you have a change of heart?” 

“Nothing,” the typical firmness of his voice has returned, much to your dismay. “The works cited is still wrong. You have to fix it.” 

“Oh, whatever you say, honored Ratio,” you open up your trusty citation-generator, ready for a long fifteen minutes of copying and pasting information. “Hey, you must be free after class tomorrow, right? Since the project is pretty much over, right?” 

“Yes,” Veritas answers after a moment of hesitation, only a hint of doubt in his voice. 

“That’s great. Keep your schedule clear, then.” 

(You fix the works cited slide, wish Veritas sweet dreams, and then wake up in the morning to completely ace your presentation. The minute the period ends, you drag him out of the classroom and into a coffee shop, paying for some five dollar pastry and joking that it’s payback for the cute slideshow theme that he definitely paid five dollars for. Veritas is an awful liar, and you tell him that, and he can’t even find the strength to deny it.)

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

fill out my event taglist (pinned) or general taglist (navi) to be tagged in upcoming works!

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

For Better or For Worse

Tags : Dark content, Baby trapping, Fluff, Angst, Delving into Gojo's childhood, Yan!tendency, Gojo x Reader, Captivity, Lovesick Gojo

A/N : Couldn't hold back my laughter while writing this (P.S. it was the evil kind)

WC : 3k

____________________________________________________

Satoru is nothing like his father.

Why? Well to start it off with, Satoru's love story isn't quite as renowned as his parents love story. The head of the Gojo clan falling in love with a woman from it's smaller branch, a forbidden love story made possible. Sounds romantic, doesn't it? It's not. Behind the rose-tinted background and the dreamy sighs of onlookers, lies the dark obsession of it all.

Satoru knows that his mother was in love with someone else, Satoru knows that his father didn't care, didn't bother himself with the fact that she was already engaged to another man, already promised to the love of her life. What he did bother with was the dissolution of her engagement, forcing himself on her to bind her freedom, her branch and herself to him. No one cared, her family didn't to say the least, everyone was so delighted to have formed a bond with the main branch of the Gojo clan, to the head of the branch that all regards for her flew out the window.

With the birth of Gojo Satoru soon after, her fate was sealed. What marriage couldn't do, a child did. Her dreams of escaping all but gone, afterall no mother could ever leave her child in the very place that plagued her nightmares and selfishly run off. Besides, running off with Satoru would make her a target of all the 3 great clans- some only interested in snuffing out the heir and holder of the Gojo clan's innate technique whereas running off without him would eat her inside out.

Forget the fact that she was a mother and bearer of Gojo Satoru himself, her husband would've never let her run off. The ring on her finger was but a leash to tie her down and Satoru was but another means for it, lucky him. Lady luck only seemed to favor the most twisted of minds. It started out small, really. So small that it was barely noticeable and by the time anyone realized, it was already too late.

Forcefully cutting off all contacts with her family was as easy as snapping a branch in half, as easy as easy comes by. Then came the isolation, isolating her from the general public, isolating her from the people of the main house until she was fully restricted to the northernmost corner of the house with only two servants besides her, a mockery of the freedom she craved. She was offered everything, given everything she'd ever want but what use is it if it's not what she needs?

Her only connection to the outside world? A husband she loathed and her sweet, sweet son. Her little boy that looked nothing like his father- a small mercy in disguise. Her beautiful boy who she was banned from seeing if she misbehaved ever so slightly, her adorable baby boy being the only thing that kept her sanity in check, the only thing that stopped her from throwing a middle finger up to her husband's face and removing herself from the land of the living. Her baby boy whom she loves so much that she grits her teeth and steels her nerves to please her despised captor of a husband, to murmur sweet nothings in his ear and coddle him like he wants, in hopes for seeing her baby the next day and the next day she does, her beautiful son excitedly running towards her on the gravel path delighted her, made her day just by looking at him, bending to pick him up and press kisses all over his pale tiny face.

Satoru might've been young but he wasn't naive, far from it, he notices the way his mother holds him tighter in the presence of his father. He notices the way her lips form into a tight smile when his father presses a kiss on her cheeks before excusing himself, he notices the way she relaxes when his father is out of sight, pulling Satoru closer as she coos sweet words at him. Softly brushing his hair back and giggling at his words with a softness he can't quite put his finger on, he wishes he could play her laughter on repeat, Satoru's favorite past time might be walking hand-in-hand with his mother in the empty northern courtyard, talking about everything and anything that comes to his mind as she listens, she listens to him talk like the words pouring out of his mouth was the very secrets of the universe instead of his boring everyday life. Satoru likes it, he likes being listened to, he likes being normal, he likes being treated as a child and above all, he likes his mother for doing so.

The world may have shifted from Satoru's birth alone but for her, all Satoru ever was and ever will be was her child. Her baby boy, her little treasure and her reason to live.

One could only guess how devastated Satoru must've been when he finds out his mother collapsed during one of the so-called ban imposed on her because of her misbehavior or so the servants says with hushed voices. He glares at them disapprovingly, heads bowed down and lips pursed into a thin line, murmurs of apology pours out swiftly before they excuse themselves and exit just as quickly.

He clenches his tiny fists, silently praying to every God he knows as he makes his way quietly towards his mother's room. Taking in a deep breathe and walking in, only to see her sitting up on her futon with his father besides her, holding onto her hand as if for dear life as she looks out to the garden with furrowed brows- ignoring father, Satoru notes. Neither of them aware of his presence yet.

"Mam- Mother?" Her head snaps towards Satoru, face softening immediately as she holds her arms out before pausing, throwing a quick glance at the hand held by her husband. A sign to let go. He doesn't relent, squeezing it just a little tighter. She frowns again, rolling her eyes slightly. Placing her attention towards Satoru again, she holds her free arm out for him "Satoru, come here" her voice is sweet, soft, loving, weak. Satoru is already moving, already making his way to her arm and burying his face in the crook of her neck like he always does, breathing in her comforting scent- now mixed with the horrible scent of herbs, of sickness and of death, he scrunches his nose, pulling away to look up at his mother.

She's looking down at him, wrapping her yukata-draped arm around him with a small smile, pressing a light kiss on his forehead "My baby" she whispers, breathing in weakly. "Mama" he sniffles ever so softly, hands curling over her clothes as he buries his head against her chest. She chuckles lightly, weakly, the sound was so comforting. A complete juxtaposition to her condition.

"I need you to be strong, the strongest in fact. You can do that for me, can't you?" She whispers, pulling him closer to her. He nods. She smiles, patting his back. "Mama loves you, you know that right?" She hums softly, leaning her cheek ontop of his head. He nods again "I love you too, mama"

"I love you more, Satoru. So do me a favor, okay? You can do mama a favor right?"

Satoru tilts his head up, expecting to see a smile like always. He's disappointed, there's a serious look on her face. She always smiled at him, always as in ever since he could remember, saving the frowns and looks of distaste for his father- Satoru nods, looking at her just as seriously as she was. She bends down and presses a quick kiss on his forehead, a chill quickly running down his spine- instinctively knowing that this'll be the last time she'll kiss him. Dead or Alive.

"Never turn into a monster like your father."

Silence. Silence broken down by his father's voice, yelling for the servants to drag away Satoru. His mother yells too, Satoru's not quite sure what as the servants make quick work with him, hurriedly dragging him away from the them. Turning his head back to catch a quick glimpse of his mother's figure looming over his father's seated one. It's funny how mother only seemed be her strongest during her weakest state- she huffs angrily, turning her head away in anger before catching sight of Satoru, hurriedly flashing a sad smile that quickly vanishes as the door slams shut and he's forced to take a turn. Her room completely and utterly out of view, along with his mother.

Satoru sees her again the next week but in an entirely different setting than he hoped it to be. Quietly making his way up to his mother's pale, lifeless figure, he looks at his father besides her. All life in his sunken eyes seemingly gone as he mindlessly stares at her, "Mother would've loved to see him this way" he thinks apathetically to himself, kneeling down and brushing her hair back like she always did his as he presses a gentle kiss on her forehead, like she always did his.

"I promise"

He sees his father glance at him momentarily, Satoru steels himself, waiting for him to say something berating maybe then he could berate back, yell and scream back at him but his father says nothing. He doesn't care, more like he can't care to say anything. "Pathetic" Satoru sneers internally, standing up and walking out, his mother listened to him like the very secrets of the universe poured out of his mouth so he'll do the same, what goes around comes around. Right?

Gojo Satoru was only 5 and nothing like his father.

°

Then he met Suguru. Strong and relentless with sass and bangs so profound he couldn't help but let hi- You, you're perfect. Watching you sit besides the new first-years, everything else fades away the minute his eyes makes contact with yours. Your words, your soft gentle voice echoing in the room as you introduce yourself hits him like a sledgehammer, it hits him like a semi-truck crashing full speed into him. Satoru's sure he'd survive the crash but surviving you? He doubts there'd be anything left of him by the end of it all.

His knees goes weak as he watches you hold your hand out to him with a pretty little smile, throwing on his usual smirk, he grabs it and oh- your touch, it burns. Your fingertips brands itself against his palm so deliciously warm that he can't help but squeeze just a little bit tighter, trying to hold on to you for a little while longer before you're pulling it away with a grin and you're speaking but he hardly hears you, so distracted with the lack of warmth, the lack of your hands in his.

"What?" He croaks out, ignoring the side-eye he's receiving from Suguru and Shoko besides him at his unusual demeanor. "It's nice to meet you" you repeat simply, eyes closed as you chuckle softly and oh God, Satoru feels his heart thumping against his chest so wildly that all he can do is hope that you can't hear it, Suguru or Shoko least of all lest he wants to make it the running joke for his entire life. Satoru says something but he doesn't know what, his mind and his mouth two separate entities as he watches you laugh again, he wishes he could record it and play it over and over again. By the time he's aware of what's happening, it's already night and the water is burning his skin, hurriedly switching off the shower overhead he stumbles back, palms pressing against the cool tiled wall, his skin tingling with the heat. It's an uncomfortable heat, one that he doesn't like at all, he'd much prefer the burn of your skin against his, molded perfectly against his-

°

"You're staring again" Shoko drawls out amusedly, nudging Satoru in the ribs as the pair watches you converse with your blond classmate, Nanami, he notes. Your laughter fills the empty distance and before you know it, there's a familiar arm weighing down your shoulder "Hi Gojo" you say without missing a beat, not bothering to look up at the albino draping himself all over you as you drone on about your latest mission to an indifferent Nanami.

"Sorry 'bout him, girlie" Shoko interrupts, grabbing Satoru by the collar and prying him off of you, he let's go with a pathetic whine. You brush it off with a smile, it's okay and I don't mind falling out your lips but it falls on deaf ears as she starts dragging him away. "Give the poor girl some space, Gojo. It hasn't even been 2 months and you're already clinging into her" Shoko berates, shaking her head and praying for Suguru to come back quickly; she doubts she has much patience left for the pouting man-child she's dragging.

Gojo was nothing like his father, what he was was a clingy fool, an annoying one too.

°

"Oh my- what happened?" You rush towards Shoko, eyeing her two classmates sitting quietly in the infirmary. She shakes her head and you know better to ask so you settle down, observing the two, Satoru looks fine...well fine except for the eerie glow in his eyes while Suguru looked like the complete opposite, his eyes was dark and dank, similar to light slowly being sucked out into a blackhole. You can't help but feel a cold dread settling low in your stomach, wrong. Everything is gonna go wrong. And wrong it went, muffled sobs wrecks your body as you crumple to the floor, hands helplessy clutching onto Nanami's blazer as he silently holds onto you and buries your face in his chest. Forcing you to look away from the scene in front of you but you don't relent, turning your head back just a little .

Catching sight of Haibara's lifeless corpse. All cold, pale and unmoving. He's gone, gone and never coming back, just like Suguru because only weeks after, you get the news that he's defected. Defected and on the run, hunted down by the very people he once knew and loved. Gojo, how was Gojo taking the news? The thought brushes past your mind, fading away just as quick as you struggle to pry the umpteenth cigarette from Shoko's fingers, her smoking habit was becoming worse and you took it upon yourself to see that she doesn't kill herself at this rate. Busying yourself to make sure that you don't kill yourself with the lack of closure.

°

"Satoru, how are you holdin' up?" You call out softly as you enter his room, watching the usually bright eyes of his all bloodshot and red does nothing but heighten your worry as you watch him lying down in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Settling down at the edge of the bed, you quietly grab his cold hand, offering him what little comfort you can give. "They need me to kill him" Oh. You say nothing, there's nothing to say. No words of comfort would ever work, not anymore. Squeezing his cold hand just a bit tighter, the room becomes a little more darker with the sun setting behind the windows before he starts speaking again. He's speaking and you're listening, listening to him vent about things you never knew, listening to him ramble on and on about things that didn't matter to others but it did, it did matter to him so he talked about it and you listened, humming and nodding late into the night. Completely missing the fact that his hand never warmed up.

Satoru's talkative by nature, it's an undeniable fact but even he outdid himself when he wakes up with a jolt, looking at the harsh sunlight forcing its way through the windows. With a groan he moves to raise his arms over his head but pauses, blinking back his surprise when he catches sight of your head resting besides his hand, your hands grabbing onto his as if for dear life. Shifting his position he finally sees your legs awkwardly sprawled on the floor, realizing only then that he talked throughout the night only to conk out halfway through, realizing only then that you never let go of his hand, not even once.

Finally, he finally lets his infinity down. The warmth of your hand immediately enveloping his, the tiny squeeze you give while still asleep and the soft sounds of your breathing, oh it makes his heart thump just a little bit faster and stomach flutter just a little bit harder. Gently brushing your hair back, he freezes when your eyes flutters open "Gojo?" You yawn, pulling your hand to rub at your eyes but when you fail to feel both your hands on your face, you realize that he's holding on, squeezing just enough to not hurt but to feel.

"Satoru"

"What?" You look at him confusedly. "Call me Satoru" he grins the same old smile. The smile that reaches upto his eyes and crinkles the area around it...but this time it's softer, softer and warmer. You can't help but smile back at the expectant look in his eyes, the squeeze of his warm hand urging you on, warm. His hand was warm.

"Satoru"

°

Spoiling you rotten was now the only goal in Satoru's life; the extravagant gifts, the 'just because' flowers, the more than unnecessary other things that he does which only earns him a low whistle from Shoko and a polite thank you from your side. You rejected it at first, of course you did. Hell, you rejected it until you lost count but one thing about Satoru is the fact that he's stubborn, so stubborn in fact that the more you rejected the gifts, the more he gave. One gift became two, two became three and so on. Finally giving in when he presents you with the key to a house you said you liked while flipping through a brochure, you refuse it firmly though.

Finally giving in and accepting every other gifts except for that, he just shrugs and pockets the key "feel free and ask if you ever need it, it's yours from now anyways" being the only thing he says before going back to his usual routine.

Satoru was nothing like his father, he was just a lovesick fool, a rich one at that.

°

You liked Satoru, adored him even but not in that way. He was your senior, your partner in crime and your bestfriend if you were being generous with the titles, that's all there was to it. You don't like anyone that wa- Your heart lingers on a certain blond man from the past but he's gone, gone and living his life away from the sorcery world. It's better off this way, you think, brushing off the thought quickly as you file your paperwork in silence. But fate is a funny thing because after everything was said and done, it all starts over again.

Starting with the emergence of Sukuna's vessel and ending with his return, igniting the embers you so difficultly tried to put out. You openly gawk at him when you see him for the first time in a long time, heart fluttering at the smile tugging his lips and your name rolling off his tongue so naturally that it feels like he never left at all.

"Nanami, you're back afterall"

°

Satoru's not sure of his own feelings these days, unsure on if he likes seeing you getting along with Nanami or not. On one hand he's happy watching his only remaining juniors get along but on the other, he just can't get rid of that ugly, twisted feeling that stabs him everywhere when he watches Nanami touch you for a little too long or watch the way your eyes light up when you make the stoic man smile. It just makes him want to snap something...or someone whichever is more convenient.

So he goes to Shoko and on a drunken stupor spills everything out, stupidly crying his heavy heart as he nurses his glass of beer. "Just confess already" is all Shoko says but he perks up, acting like he just heard the answer to all the unanswered secrets in the universe.

"I love you, will you marry me?" Satoru blurts out as he watches you reach the tori gates of the school compound, on your way to your next mission. You look at him with shock, mouth forming a silent what? Too stunned to speak or make a sound. "We could date first if you want" He smiles at you, all bravado and confidence acting as if like he didn't just profess his feelings to you. "No" is all you manage out, missing the way his smile twitches at the word.

"No?"

"No, I'm sorry Sator- Gojo. I don't....I don't see you that way" you sputter out, hands flailing wildly in front of you. Soul-crushing is an understatement, heart-wrenching, bone-breaking...nothing can describe what he, what Gojo, feels at the moment, it's all too much. "It's because of Nanami, isn't it?"

You freeze, heat creeping up your face when he calls you out. You look down in embarrassment and hurriedly cup your cheeks to hide your flushed face, wrong move. Maybe if you kept your eyes on him you'd have seen the way his jaw ticked, maybe you'd have seen him curling his hand into a fist but you didn't do that so you don't see it. Instead you bow, muttering an apology and excuses of being late for your mission before running off, missing the abnormal silence and the eerie chill in the air despite the harsh summer sun shining right overhead.

°

Every single person was wary of Gojo, sorcerers and elders alike, because ever since the day you'd gone missing, his mood has been no better than thunderous. With the emergence of Sukuna's vessel, the curses that needed to be exorcised had increased in number and strength. With the staggering disadvantage of numbers, you had been assigned back-to-back missions and one fine day, had gone missing along with the Grade-2 curse you'd been sent to exorcise. The efforts to at least find your body was futile at best, nothing was left behind, not even a minisicule trace. Finally deeming you dead after a month of searching with no hope of finding your body ever again, it only adds to someone's despair all over again, he should've never come back afterall.

Gojo sighs, shutting the door behind him and silently making his way to the bedroom, he wasn't mad at the fact that you'd gone missing, not at all. On the contrary, he had you right where he wanted you to be. Chained up on his bed for him only. Then why was he mad? He was only mad because even after all this time of convincing and explaining, you still did not understand why he's doing all this. He loves you and he needs you by his side, what was so hard to understand? "I missed you too" Gojo hums to himself when he hears the muffled rattling of chains behind the door, realizing that you heard him come back.

You weren't weak by any means, not at all. You could snap normal chains like twigs if you wanted to but the cursed chain graciously attached to your feet by Gojo was resilient, all efforts left futile. It also burns, it burns like a red-hot spoke, branding you his if you ever so much as try to walk out the bedroom door. The chain magically extended itself to all corners of the bedroom and the bathroom but anywhere else and you're lying on the floor with tears in your eyes as you drag yourself back to bed because of the searing burn around your ankle.

°

You rub your eyes dazedly, where the hell were you? The comforter beneath you, the curtained drapes and even the smell was unfamiliar. Your last memory was being flung to the wall by the semi-special grade curse that you thought was a Grade-2 curse, a deadly mistake by the administration team. You needed to alert Ijichi for back up otherwise you're dead, a blur of white hair flashes past you. Gojo? Why was Gojo her- "Finally awake?" You blink, turning around to see Gojo leaning back on a chair besides the bed with a grin. "Gojo, where am I?" You tentatively ask, eyeing your bandaged arms.

"Our house. You said you liked it last time didn't you? " he answers simply, holding his arm out matter-of-factly. You narrow your eyes at the platinum band on his left ring finger, only realizing then that you had a similar one of your own in your hand. You move to get up but something cool tugs at you ankle, the sound of chain rattling only increasing your heart beat as you throw the blanket off of you. Cold sweat running through you at the thought of it "Gojo, what is this?"

"Oh don't mind it, it's just a precaution" he stands up, pushing the chair aside as he gently tugs at the chain with a satisfied look. "This isn't funny" you tug the chain loose from his finger, biting back the bile rising up your throat when he quietly grabs hold of your ankle. "It's not meant to be funny" he grins, pulling you towards him by your ankle."Why?" You breathe out every so softly, fear and betrayal etched on your face. Oh betrayal, sweet sweet betrayal, he really does love that look on your face.

Everything he says is a buzz, you can't hear him, you're panicking. Nanami, what about Nanami? Oh God, what's gonna happen to him without you there? "Oh don't look like that, I'm not gonna hurt you" he coos, cupping your cheeks, completely misunderstanding your panic. You grab hold of his cold hands, silent tears streaming down your face "Let me go, please Gojo. I swear I won't tell anyone, Please" you plead, lips quivering and shuddering as sobs wrecks your body. "I'm afraid I can't do that" he tuts with mock pity, one hand gently caressing your body as it slides down to your ankle.

"This chain..." he tugs it. Hard.

"Keeps you safe. Keeps you with me. KEEPS YOU MINE" Maybe if he didn't say all that with a smile on his face, you wouldn't have hated him as much as you did right now. But he did and the burning pit of hate burns in your heart, you should've never met him.

"Also call me Satoru, we're gonna be here for a very long time"

°

It all starts over again.

Satoru is nothing like his father.

Where his father's love story extended for so long, his was cut short. Cut short by fate and your death- or thats what people think at least. They don't know that you're well alive and breathing, chained to the bed by the supposedly pitiful star crossed lover of a man.

It's ironic really, when his mother was chained down to his father by just a ring on her finger, he had hated it but here he was, years later. Literally and figuratively chaining you down to him with a physical chain, maybe the reason why Lady Luck seemed to favor the most twisted of mind was because she had a twisted sense of humor too. It's the only explanation.

But what about his mother's words? He became the strongest, that's one wish fulfilled. Never turn into a monster like his father?.... That's two wishes fulfilled, For Better or For worse, he's gonna keep true to his promise till the end.

Satoru is nothing like his father, he was so much worse.

__________________________________________________

Writing block hit me hard. Currently working on pt.3 of Prod!Gojo Satoru again cuz I deleted it by mistake 🥲

Masterlist

[azrielwingspan]

'HIGH' PRAISE (AZRIEL X READER)

I am on a roll damn. Another idea that I jotted down as quick as I could. Enjoy !!

Summary: Mirthroot and alcohol can work in your favour sometimes. You have a very interesting conversation with Azriel.

Warnings : Mention of substances, mild swearing. MDNI !

"You are a saviour Y/N." Mor said taking a hit from the mirthroot joint. The party was in full swing downstairs but you and Mor had found solace in her balcony.

"Don't thank me. Thank the male who was nice enough to give it up." you said taking your turn.

The lightness in your head was making you giddy and talkative. You could feel the slight tingle at your nerve ends, you body feeling detached from reality.

"He probably wanted to get into your pants."

"I know."

Mor let out a bark of laughter at that statement and leaned back against the wall. Her eyes had taken on a reddish tinge and you were sure that yours were probably worse. Your mouth felt numb and you smacked your lips cringing at the dryness of your mouth.

"I need something to drink. And eat. Chocolate cake sounds good. Chocolate cake with a side of yoghurt sounds even better. Add some good wine to it. What do you think?" your mind was moving too fast for your mouth to catch up to.

"It sounds terrible. Let's do it." You and Mor giggled clutching each others hands. That was some really strong mirthroot.

You made your way back to the party hyper focusing on every step being taken. Being high and face planting did not seem like a good combination. Your brain was a different entity, screaming at you to act normal. It was a party for fucks sake. Who acts normal anyways?

Grabbing Mor's hand , the both of you made your way over to the drinks table dodging your way through familiar faces. You refused to speak to anyone until you got your hands on the wine.

After chugging down half a bottle to quench your thirst, you noticed Azriel sitting with another male chatting about something.

"Mor."

"Yeah?"

"I think Azriel and I would make a fantastic couple."

The shattering of glass snapped you out of your hyper focused state for a beat.

It wasn't Mor.

Oh.

Back to hyper focused state.

"You would." she responded , a completely serious expression gracing her face.

"Should we tell him?" you asked, an illegal amount of bravery shooting through your veins. Not a single cell in your body thought this was a bad idea.

A new wave of idiocy hit you. The effects of the wine and mirthroot combined were doing wonders for your sanity right now.

"We should. Come on." This time, Mor was the one dragging you through the crowd, once again dodging everyone.

"Az!"

He turned to look at Mor, his own slightly glazed from the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

"Y/N thinks---"

The male that was speaking to Azriel stood up and interrupted Mor, asking for a dance. Immediately forgetting why she was there, Mor walked away with him leaving you with Azriel.

"What do you think?" Az asked, his voice husky. Ugh, it was doing strange things to you.

"I think---"

"Are you high?" Az asked, holding in his laugh.

"Az you idiot. You never ask someone who's high if they're high. Way to ruin it!"

"Okay my bad. Sorry. Come here."

He motioned to the space next to him on the couch.

"No. No. I have chocolate cake plans. I just wanted to let you know that I think...and Mor thinks as well...that we would make a fantastic couple. I mean look at you. Look at me. Stunners. Jaw droppingly good looking. What's stopping us?"

Az looked thoroughly amused as you continued defending your statement.

"Y/N." he said stopping you before you went off on a different tangent. "Come here." This time he motioned to his lap.

Yeah chocolate cake could wait.

You went over and sat down sideways on his lap, wrapping you arms around his shoulders while his hands found their place on your hips.

"Tomorrow, I want you to come to me and tell me the same thing. Then we'll see how well this fantastic couple thing works out yeah?"

He touched his forehead to yours , the affectionate gesture bringing a grin to your face.

"Okay."

"Good girl. Now come on let's get you some chocolate cake."

"Fantastic."

[rawrsatthetree]

Dark urge and Astarion hold a baby

GN!Durge!Tav x Astarion

Inspired by a fanart of Astarion holding a baby and an audio of Neil talking about babies as Star

Warings: well it's druge so descriptions of violence

As you and your party waded through the crowd of refugees a strange sound caught your attention. It sounded like crying but far too high pitched to be any person or child. The sound grated and scrapped at your mind and before your realized it, you had wandered off from your party in search of the source.

Among the crowd of broken families and lost souls you found an old elven woman cradling a squirming bundle in her arms. The thing wriggling about in her grasp was what had been making the terrible noise that had now quieted down into a pathetic whine.

You didn't notice how close you were lingering until the old woman spoke up. "Can I help you dear?" She questioned, her demeanor warm and friendly.

"Oh, um I was just um..." You were at a loss of words, your eyes fixed on the thing in her arms.

"Would you like to see him? Come closer, no need to be shy." She gave you a warm smile.

Hesitantly you shuffled forward to where you could see what it was she was holding, expecting some sort of animal or other strange creature.

"A baby?"

"Yes, a precious little thing, his name's Arthur." The woman rocked him in her arms.

The baby took a reprieve from it's fussing to turn and look at you. It stared at you blankly for a moment as you stared back before it broke into a smile and babbled at you.

"Would you look at that." The woman cooed, "he hasn't smiled once since he lost his mother to the Absolute's army."

The very sight made you mind ache and twist. Thoughts of all the horrible ways you could end the small innocent life flooded your skull. Perhaps you could simply smash it, the little ball of goo and viscera that it is. Or maybe it would be fun to squeeze its little neck until its doll like eyes popped out of its skull and its neck snapped.

Your vision started to blur, your pulse pounding, hands shaking. You tried to regain your sanity, remembering the mediation exercises you had practiced with Halsin. First ground yourself, breathe, what can you hear, what can you see.

Breathe in, you heard the footsteps on the crowd.

Breathe out, you felt the cool breeze.

Breathe in, you smelled smoke and farm animals.

Breathe out, you heard the chatter of the crowd around you.

Breathe in, you heard the old woman speak. "Would you like to hold him?"

Breathe out, you could see the baby still smiling up at you.

Your mind cleared as your vision came back into focus. The Urge had passed for now and relief washed over you. You answered the woman, "Can I? Are you sure its okay?" You asked mostly to her but partly to yourself.

"Of course dear, he seems quite fond of you and it would give my old arms a much needed rest." The woman held little Arthur out to you.

You stood there stiff as a board not sure how you were meant to take the baby.

"Have you never held a baby before?" She asked noticing your apprehension.

You shook your head 'no'. Even if you could remember you doubted you had ever held a baby in your past, at least in a way that it's limbs stayed intact.

"Here, hold your arms like mine, almost like your making a basket."

You followed her example as best you could. The woman shifted the baby into your arms with out warning.

"There just like that! Be sure to support his head, see you're a natural." She encouraged you as you panicked with the infant in your grasp.

After an awkward moment of adjusting to the warm squirmy little weight in your arms, Arthur calmed and snuggled into your chest. The innocent little thing feel asleep in your arms happy and at peace. You were over come with emotion, it felt so sick and wrong, it shouldn't have been possible for you to hold something so precious. Yet there your were holding a baby gently without any intent to harm it. The feeling of his little body in your arms filled your heart with a feeling you didn't quiet understand but it brought tears to your eyes all the same.

*************

Ever since that night he had you restrained, Astarion had tried his damnedest to keep an eye on you. It figured the moment he got distracted by some snide comment from Shadowheart, you had vanished. He hadn't even noticed until he went to turn to you for back up only to discover you were gone. Panic over came him as he frantically scanned the crowd for any sign of you. Either you had been abducted by one of your countless enemies or your urge had drawn your attention away from the party. Both outcomes filled him with dread.

Without even a word to the others he rushed though the crowd. He smelled the air for any hint of blood, yours or your victim's. Nothing, at least you weren't hurt or hadn't hurt anyone else yet. He only grew more worried as he moved though the refugees with no sign of you, surly you couldn't have gotten far.

Just when he was sure you had been kidnapped by some villain never to be seen again, he found you. There you were with your back to him standing with some old woman. Whatever relief he felt was quickly replace with concern as he noticed how you rocked and swayed.

"Darling, what are you doing?" He approached you cautiously hoping he wasn't to late to save you from the urge.

"Oh, is this your husband? What a handsome young man." The old crone greeted.

Astarion ignored the woman only focused on stopping you from what ever nightmarish act you were about to commit. Before he could reach out to you and pull you way, you turned around to him.

"Astarion look! I'm holding a baby!" You beamed at him. You moved closer and whispered so only he could hear you, "and I'm not hurting him."

You were a sight to behold grinning from ear to ear with dried tears staining you cheeks. Just as you said, there in you arms was a fat little lump of a baby curled up and completely intact.

He wasn't sure why but seeing you standing there with a baby cradled in you arms made his cold heart ache. He was relieved you were safe, proud that you had fought through your urge, deeply sad - although that was nothing new; but there was something else, a longing he didn't understand. Not wanting to dwell on the feeling he turned his attention to the baby.

"Just look at the little thing, so cute and helpless." He smiled fondly at the infant.

You noticed the way he looked at the baby with such softness, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Can my husband hold him for a bit?" You asked the woman, not realizing how naturally the word 'husband' had rolled off your tongue.

"What?" Astarion was taken aback, "No, I couldn't possibly." He looked to the woman hoping she would object.

The woman gave the two of you a knowing look before answering, "of course dear."

You turned back to him, your eyes shining, holding out the baby, "only if you want you Starlight."

Astarion caved under your loving gaze, he hated how easily you swayed his heart. "well alright give it here, you know I can't say no to that face."

His action did not reflect his words as he stood there froze just as you had, not sure how to take the baby. If he had ever held a baby it was centuries ago long before he had been turned and far to long ago to remember.

"Here Star, hold you arms like mine." You instructed him just as the old woman had done for you before gently passing the baby into his arms.

The aching longing tore a hole in his heart as he held the sleeping infant in his arms. You felt it too as you watched him, your love, cradling the baby as if it were the most precious thing in the world. You moved closer to him warping an arm around his waist, you cuddled into his side as he relaxed into you resting his head against yours. The two of you didn't need words to understand what the other was feeling. The baby, although a source of pain, was also a symbol of your hope. Hope you'd both find freedom, hope you'd survive this whole ordeal, hope you'd have a future.

"Astarion, I-" You were cut off by a familiar voice calling out over the crowd breaking your tender moment.

"There they are! Hey!" Shadowheart was waving at you as she approached with Lae'zel close behind her.

As if snapped out of a trance Astarion quickly handed the baby back to his caregiver and thanked her. He whipped misty eye before either of them could notice.

"What the hells are you two doing, we've been looking everywhere." Shadowheart scolded, examining you both with suspicion.

"Sorry, I had another episode," You lied. "Thankfully Astarion found me before I could hurt anyone."

"Enough doddling, we've wasted enough time searching for you." Lae'zel turned as if to leave with out you. Shadowheart simply rolled her eyes, turning to follow.

"Come my love, we don't want to be left behind." Astarion spoke to you softly as laced his fingers with yours, pulling you toward the party. You waved goodbye to baby Arthur and the woman before turning to continue you journey.