#the hunger for more is obviously there though

[optiwashere]

B5 for the moon lesbians please...... I have been starving for so long.......

Thanks for requesting this one anon, and you have the very last of this batch! Now my inbox is cleaned up, and I hope everyone had a fun time with these prompt fics 💜

---

B5. A character that isn't used to being protected finds someone who will protect them from anything

The daughter of her goddess likely only knew protecting others. She only knew how to be the interceding shield suffering the pains of a fierce blow. She knew how to wield a sword for justice, with anger, and with a fierce, nearly unshakable pride.

Isobel knew, however, that Aylin had never known what it meant to be the one who needed the shield. They stood in the otherwise empty camp in a secluded bayside alleyway. Aylin paced on the small bridge while Isobel watched, irritated.

"You need rest, Aylin," Isobel insisted.

"Our comrades march onward to certain death into the grip of that madwoman Orin," said Aylin, hand tightening into a fist that lasted for only a breath. She turned to Isobel. "How dare I lounge when they suffer?"

"My love, do you remember what you said when you returned from that wizard's tower?"

"Lorroakan? That swine was no wizard, he was—"

"Aylin." Isobel steeled her voice and glowered at Aylin.

A sudden, almost sheepish reticence crossed Aylin's face. "I suffered a lassitude that I still feel. It is as if I am a piece of twine coming apart at both ends, and I cannot understand why I am being pulled taut."

"You need rest. Contemplation." Isobel approached her, resting a hand on Aylin's chest. "You are a warrior, but you don't have to fight every battle if there are others capable of doing so."

"I shall let none believe that Dame Aylin flees a battle."

"You are not fleeing," chided Isobel, "but you are letting me sit with you. You'll let me have that, won't you? We can talk. We can watch the bay."

She gestured towards the open waters with a few unmoored ships floating in an almost idyllic tenderness. The waves around the ships hardly crested. Even the wind was gentle. A light breeze slid between both women as they looked across the water.

"Will it be like those days before?" Aylin asked softly.

"Yes, of course."

"Will you...?"

Isobel waited, but she knew Aylin wouldn't say it. "I'll name every kind of bird that flies past us, and I'll brush your hair all the while. If only you'll let me."

Still gazing upon the waves, the corner of Aylin's scar-cracked lips curled into a faint smile. "I would like that."

[katnissmellarkkk]

my aesthetics :

the second quarter quell generation, pt one (aka the generation with all the principal characters’ parents, and then also haymitch)

[definitelynotshouting]

HEY KING, ITS BEEN A HOT MINUTE

Been super busy with school (my grades are SUFFERING) plus studying for the ACT, PLUS trying to figure out what i want to do with my life so thats.... fun :)

Logged on to Tumblr to discover the prequel oneshot hungerau thing and ENJOYED IT VERY MUCH! keep at it dude, we're all cheering you on <3

-🐛

Hey bug anon!!! :D

Oh my gosh that sounds like so much on your plate dude 😭😭😭😭 GODSPEED BRAVE SOLDIER I AM ROOTING FOR YOU!!!!!! also im so glad you liked the oneshot!!! I worked really hard on it and i am treasuring every comment 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Also im hoping you dont mind a bit of unsolicited reassurance, but your comment about figuring out your life really vividly reminded me of when i was in high school trying to figure out college and my career and life in general, and just. Couldnt come up with anything. And i still remember how fuckoff scary that felt, so i just wanna reassure you, as someone who is a few years shy of 30 and never even ended up going to college, from the bottom of my heart you do not have to figure things out for yourself yet. I know there is so so much pressure surrounding that concept, but your life and priorities can drastically change as you grow. Sometimes you dont settle into what you want to do until you're far older, and thats okay!!! In fact thats genuinely the norm-- i didnt know i wanted to be a professional editor until about 6 years ago. And in the future i might decide i want to do something else, too, and pursue that instead!!

You never have to settle on One Path for yourself. Things change, people change, and everything is in constant fluid motion. Its okay not to know what you want out of your life-- genuinely, at this point in time youve barely even lived it. Ive barely lived mine-- im only just now hitting a point where i can really think about the longterm and put down lasting roots. Give yourself the space to figure it out organically, and i promise you as someone who has gone through this exact same thing, it will ultimately turn out okay❤️❤️❤️❤️ its a big learning curve, but you arent alone, and there are countless people out there who will be willing to help you as you go along :]

[aquateenpatrolsomethingshowshow]

i love this in-between face he makes before his shocked expression

[amberautumnfaebrooke]

i think i could design a better death arena for children than those hunger games amateurs.

the whole premise of the games is all pageantry. every year you get a crop of 24 candidates around whom the entire state media apparatus dedicates an entire year to building celebrity narratives. this candidate is the younger sibling of last year's winner - these candidates are young lovers forced to compete - he's smart - she's fast - root for them, care about them, watch them, form opinions on them, bet on them. and then they stick them all in an arena to kill each other, which is a great entertainment premise, except that they make the arenas themselves really boring and generic. ooo, they're in...a forest.

it's not even an interestingly designed forest. imagine if the game designers treated their arena like an actual video game designer treats level design. discrete zones with multiple paths between each room, creative use of lighting to guide players to points of interest, points of interest scattered across the map, discoverable resources hidden to encourage exploration. instead they just have a generic outdoors location and if you get too close to the edge they throw a random fireball at you.

the 75th games are especially bad about this. the arena is laid out radially into 12 wedges, and each hour one wedge becomes especially dangerous in a 12-hour loop. as a mechanic, this is genius. it forces everyone to keep moving, making "survival by hiding" an engaging and tense viewing experience instead of someone sitting in a tree for three days. plus, it encourages players to return to the center of the arena, where travel time between wedges is short, which creates a high-value zone for players to regularly return to and conflict over. in other words, it's a mechanic which incentives players to adopt dramatic, dynamic, exciting behaviors which are entertaining to watch (not to mention it communicates geography to the audience well). but it only incentives those behaviors if the players understand what's happening, and they go out of their way not to tell the players anything! when they figure out what's going on, the showrunners spin the arena to disorient the players, like they're intentionally trying to get them to just. randomly wander the jungle instead.

this isn't even to mention how often they create undramatic, boring deaths. they plant poison berries around the arena. they supply no fresh water and no way to get it. they roll poison clouds over sleeping victims. these happen to work out in the books themselves but you have to imagine that extremely often these just result in players dying unexciting deaths.

the cardinal sin though, of course, is that nothing is done to personalize the arena for the crop of contestants that year. if i'm designing the 75th hunger games and two of my most beloved contestants famously had to cancel their wedding because of a return to the games, i would OBVIOUSLY give them a trail of, i don't know, wild game which conveniently leads directly past a well defended wedding chapel. will they hole up there for a while? hold a mock ceremony for themselves? do or receive ironic violence here? stare wistfully and move on? any of it is better television than getting attacked by generic attack monkeys. you should have a dozen of these things on the map for every single candidate. but the game makers are more interested in doing the same thing every other game has done than in telling a compelling story.

it makes me second guess enjoying the children's murder arenas at all.

[ghostfacd]

THIN LINE

based on this thought

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

genre: fluff, a bit of angst, descriptions of killing, they’re like in love ig, ooc!snow (he’s still crazy LMAO), SPOILERS for the ballad of the songbirds & snakes, Snow and reader being disgustingly touchy 💀

summary: in which there is a thin line in between yours and coriolanus’ friendship and something more, leading to a sudden shift in your dynamic

“Coryo! I passed! Coryo!” You shriek in excitement as Casca Highbottom passes one of your papers back. It had taken quite your strength when you were given the task to make new proposals and implements for the new Hunger Games, crying to your best friend Coriolanus about how you’ll never get it done on time.

“Oh yeah?” He asks, looking over at your paper. There was a bright red A+ along with the sloppy cursive writing of Good Job Miss. L/N!

“Good job,” Coriolanus says, snaking his arms over to pull you back into his chest, placing a sloppy but soft kiss on your cheek. “Knew you had it in you.”

The scene makes Arachne Crane let out a moan of disgust, rolling her eyes as she turned to another corner.

“What’s wrong Arachne?” One of her friends asked, and she only points to the two of you, who were too engrossed in each other to notice.

“Snow and L/N, are we even surprised?” Livia let out a huff of irritation.

When Casca Highbottom announced that you all will be meeting in the largest room of the Academy, you thought it was to finally announce the winner of the Plinth prize. The only rightful ones were you and Coriolanus, anyway. And maybe Sejanus, the boy whom you’ve gotten soft for these past few days.

You and Coriolanus entered arm in arm, avoxes had wove through the crowd of students with trays of posca, a concoction of watery wine laced with herbs and honey.

Coriolanus quickly grabbed two goblets, handing one to you and then chugging it quickly down his throat. For a minute, it burned.

“Oh there you two are,” Arachne waves you over, her face gloomy. “Obviously, no amount of bribing would make Sejanus tell me who won the prize. Not like it matters, we all know I deserve it most.”

There was an eye roll from Felix Ravinstill. “Sure Arachne, and I’m the richest man on the planet.”

That earned him a scowl from the girl, who then turned her attention to Sejanus. “He can have as much money as he wants, but he’ll always be district, you know.”

A few of your classmates laugh, nodding in bitter agreement as they watched Sejanus conversing with one of the professors.

“Right.” Coriolanus mumbles, surprising you. He hadn’t ever agreed with Arachne before—calling her a psychopath even—so why was he now?

“Oh please,” the girl snaps back. “You and Y/N are friends with him.”

“We tolerate him,” Coriolanus says, his hand that was holding yours became tighter. “He’s district.”

When Sejanus comes, the murmur of your classmates grows silent, and from the looks of it, he could already tell they weren’t saying much good about him.

“It’s time to assign the tributes.” Is all he says, motioning to Dean Highbottom.

“As you all know, the Plinth prize and money would usually go to the student with the highest mark,” Highbottom begins, clearing his throat. “But this year, we’d like to do something different.”

You can tell Coriolanus has stiffened in his seat. Even though you want to hold his hand and caress it, you know you can’t, so you keep your desire inside.

“Whoever is the best mentor among all of you will be able to win the Plinth prize.”

“Oh that is not fair!” Livia complains. “What if I get some poor weak district girl and she dies 2 minutes in the games?”

“It’s not just about your tribute winning,” Highbottom says, “you will be assessed.”

You and Coriolanus sit through the announcement of which mentor gets which tribute. You had gotten Coral, a girl from District 4 while Coriolanus had gotten the girl from 12. Lucy Gray Baird, apparently.

“Hey, you okay?” You say as you two stepped out from the Academy. “Look at me Coryo.”

He looks up from the ground, his eyebrows furrowed and his face upset.

“He hates me.” He says, referring to Dean Highbottom. “Always has, always will. Gave me the worst district of them all.”

“Hey,” you say, cradling his face as your eyes quickly scanned his. “Don’t say that. We saw Lucy Gray on stage, she can sing and she sure as hell can put on a charismatic personality for the crowd. You’ll be okay, Coryo.”

“I don’t know,”

This was the first time you saw Coriolanus so upset, so lost in his thought. Without a second thought, you pulled his head towards you, giving him a long kiss on his jawline.

“Sleepover tonight?” You ask as you pull away.

“Sure, I just have to tell Tigris first.”

That night, you and Coriolanus talk about your futures under your warm white covers, limbs tangling one another.

“Do you ever want kids, Coryo?” You ask, saying anything that came to your mind.

“Maybe.” He replies. “Only if I find a girl as worthy as you.”

His words make you smile, pulling him closer to your body. “As worthy as me?”

“Mhm. Or else I’d marry out of convenience. For profit. To ensure no one takes advantage of me.”

You shake your head, placing a small kiss on his forehead. “I hope that never happens, Coryo.”

“I hope it never does either.”

You turn over to turn off your nightlight, snuggling yourself under the covers as Coriolanus throws an arm around your frame.

“Goodnight Coryo.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

- - -

After Coriolanus’ little involvement in the tribute cage, Highbottom, to say the least, was unimpressed. He claimed Coriolanus was breaking many of the Academy rules, including endangering an Academy student. However, he agreed to let the mentors visit their tributes and offer them water or food.

You were talking to Coral, handling her a glass bottle filled with water. If you couldn’t get her out of here, the least you could do is hydrate and feed her.

You turn to look at Arachne, who was busy swinging water in front of her tribute. Her tribute almost looked pitiful as the bottle always seemed to swing out of her reach.

Coriolanus was talking to Lucy Gray, a little too close for your liking, but you knew it was just to discuss strategies.

“You think you’re gonna make it in the arena?” You ask Coral, who only glared at you, taking small sips of water at a time.

“Hey.” Coriolanus suddenly comes up from behind you, once again wrapping his arms around your shoulders before bringing your face in for a long kiss on the cheek.

“Hi,” you giggle, continuing to hold on him as you turned your entire body to face him.

Coral let out a scowl of disgust, eyeing you and Coriolanus up and down.

“Coral, meet my friend, Coriolanus Snow. He’s Lucy Gray’s mentor.” You say, pointing at the girl who was currently talking to another tribute; Jessup, you think his name is.

Coral doesn’t respond, only continuing to snarl at the two of you.

“They’re like wild animals,” Coriolanus whispers in your ear.

“Hey pretty boy,” she finally speaks, smirking from ear to ear. “You were on the truck earlier.”

“I was,” he replied curtly.

“Maybe I can’t kill you—but I’ll definitely kill your tribute.”

Before you could hold Coriolanus back from jumping at Coral, you all hear a scream.

Arachne’s tribute had somehow managed to grab the bottle of water, smashing it against the metal cage and stabbing Arachne directly in the throat with it.

“Oh my god!” You scream, running over to the girl. Although you and Coriolanus disliked her, she was still your classmate, and someone who you spoke to on a regular basis.

“You two, off.” The peacekeepers say, grabbing ahold of you and Coriolanus; dragging you away from the scene.

- - -

The walk to Coriolanus’s home was quiet, aside from occasional twig snapping and leaves falling.

“I’m scared,” you finally say, staring up at Coriolanus. His icy blue eyes bore into yours before they softened.

“I know,” he says, cupping your head in his hands. “I know you’re scared, that should’ve never happened.”

“But it did,” you say, placing your hands into Coriolanus’s coat to keep them warm. “What if it happens to us next, Coryo?”

“Hey.” Coriolanus’s face is only a meter away from yours, lips almost touching. “I’ll never let that happen to you, do you understand? As long as I’m alive, no one will hurt you.”

You nod, a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Coriolanus wipes away your tears with his thumb, one of his fingers caressed your cheek lightly. “They’ll have to shoot me dead before anything can happen to you.”

And before you could let out another one of your worries, Coriolanus leans in, placing a much awaited kiss on your lips. He pulls away for air after a minute, forehead against yours.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll never let anyone hurt you, ever.”

[bouncybongfairy]

Freezer Burn

Prince Zuko x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Tensions are running high which causes a argument between Zuko and yourself. He bruises the confidence you have in your hunting abilities and reaffirms your fear of being a burden. Wanting to prove otherwise, you go out in the cold to hunt. Feeling guilty about how he treated you, he goes out to find you. The two of you find some innovative ways to keep warm.

Word Count: 2.0k+

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Everyone was having a rough day of travel, even Appa was reaching his limit. It was freezing and the optimism of finding a warm place to sleep was fading in everyone. Anng found a small cave that would work for the night. It was on a small mountain and overlooked an even smaller village. Zuko started making a fire while Katara and yourself set up the tents. Yang and Sokka were already asleep, curled into Appa’s thick fur. You were hungry but so was everyone else. 

“Are we going to be able to hunt for food soon? Or get some water?” you asked. 

“We could but I don’t think the cold would allow us to be out there for long. Not to mention there wouldn’t be any animals out, it's just too cold,” she said. 

“Not to mention you’d barely come home with anything in good weather,” Zuko grumbled, poking at the fire. He’d been making cracks at you all day, at first you could ignore him. Excusing his behavior on fatigue and hunger pains, but now you were taking it personally. 

“You’re not a prince among us, so stop acting like it” you say in hopes of lowering his ego.

“I am the best fighter and hunter, the past two battles you’ve only slowed us down. Maybe if we had a successful kill earlier we wouldn’t be hungry now,” he said. 

“Zuko don’t say that!” Katara snapped. 

All day you’d been beating yourself up over that mistake. Deep down you knew the rest of the group was irritated about you costing them the meal earlier. It just reaffirmed your insecurity. Grabbing your bow and arrows, you start putting your clothes back on while preparing for a hunt. 

“We’re all really tired and yes we may be hungry but you’re not the sole reason for that. Zuko is obviously just grumpy, don’t let his outburst get to you,” she says, grabbing your arm. 

Deep down you wanted to listen and calm down, rest for a while. Your pride however wouldn’t allow you to stop yourself. As you left, you could hear Katara yelling at Zuko to apologize. The feeling of dread bubbled in your stomach, you didn’t want to make anyone worry but your ego was clouding your judgment. Everyone in the group had their own ways of helping and at times you did feel like a burden. Extra weight that Appa had to carry on his back. It wasn’t that you were mad about what Zuko said, you were more frustrated that it was true. At this point it felt like you’d been walking for hours. The snow was coming down hard, without any signs of lightning. Not eating and your lack of rest was starting to get to you. Your stomach felt like it was eating away at itself. Eyes burning and muscles starting to stiffen from the cold penetrating your clothes. You tried not to go too far, knowing you couldn’t carry an animal in the cold that far. But you had to get some distance between you and the cave in order to find any wild game. Finally spotting a young Moose Lion, looking lost and confused, you almost hesitated when readying your bow. After successfully hitting the animal, your body floods with adrenaline. This quickly fades as you realize you’ll have to drag the thing home. Seemingly underestimating the size which caused a struggle when walking back. Even though it was freezing, you’d broken into a sweat. Starting to feel lightheaded, you took a moment to catch your breath. 

Katara was pacing at the entrance of the cave, anxious for your arrival. He wouldn’t admit it, but Zuko was feeling his own regret about how he’d spoken to you. He didn’t mean to let his anger get the best of him, it just sort of happened. 

“I think I should go out to look for her, she could be freezing to death,” she said, starting to get dressed.

“You can’t, it’s a full blown blizzard,” Zuko said, standing up. 

“Well we can’t just leave her to die out there!” Katara snaps, upset that he would even suggest stopping her from leaving. 

“I know, but only a fire bender would have the resources to survive such severe weather. I’ll go,” he said, making the fire sustainable for the time he’d be gone for. 

“Just be careful,” Katara said as he walked into the cold.

Once he felt just how bad it was outside, his guilt intensified. It wasn’t true what he said about you being a burden. He was just feeling insecure about his own place in the group. Simply projecting his inner turmoil onto you. Knowing it pushed you this far was getting to him. He took a deep breath and started following the faint track you left. Even though a fresh layer of snow was now covering the foot prints, it was still enough to follow. At times Zuko would use his fire for warmth and light. Getting desperate, he began calling your name out. Fatigue was starting to affect him as well. He finally thought he saw you, laying against the animal. He assumed you were just pulling the arrow out but when he got closer he noticed you were passed out. He immediately started assessing you, looking around knowing he had to find shelter that was closer than the rest of the group. Using his fire, he melts a coating of snow and ice, covering a small cave. The animal luckily kept you warm while he wasn’t there but he was still worried about your fingers. They had practically no color and your lips were tinted blue. Once he got you inside the cave, next to the fire he created, he brought the animal in. Impressed that you shot it right through the chest. Taking off his outer layers and bundling you up in them. He was relieved to see the color coming back to your fingertips and cheeks. Checking every once in a while to make sure you were getting too close and burning yourself. 

The two of you wouldn’t be able to make the trip back any time soon, so Zuko began skinning and sectioning off the meat. Washing his hands with melted snow he was slowly collecting. As he roasted the meat, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. Your eyelashes were long and the light from the fire was illuminating your face. Sleeping with your lips slightly parted, hair completely unraveled from the tight bun it once was in. After a couple hours, you slowly began to come too. Sitting up rubbing your eyes, Zuko rushes over to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, brushing the hair out of your face. He grabbed a bowl of water, bringing it to your lips,

“Sit closer to the fire,” he said, helping you sit up fully. Still weak, you were wobbling while you sat criss-crossed. Still shivering a bit because your back was cold, not able to feel the heat from the fire. Zuko notices this and comes to sit behind you, stabilizing and warming you up. He was using a stick to roast the meat he’d prepared from the animal. It smelt really good, and was the only reason you were keeping your eyes open. He brought the stick to your lips but you were too weak to rip a piece off. Trying to bite a small chunk but not having the strength to actually get a bite. He laughs at your attempt and rips a small piece off, bringing it to your mouth. He repeated this a couple times, giving you sips of water in between. Letting you digest, he rests his chin on top of your head and keeps cooking. After eating, you could feel yourself gaining strength and energy. Becoming more aware of your surroundings.

“What happened?” you asked, looking around and noticing it was only you and Zuko. 

“You went out to hunt and passed out. I came looking for you but the storm was too powerful to travel back to camp with you and the kill. So we're camping here for the night,” he explained, adding more wood to the fire. 

That was when you slowly started putting the pieces of your memory back together. You were grateful to be sheltered now, definitely counting your blessings. Noticing that Zuko wasn’t wearing a shirt, you took off what he gave you. He accepted it but didn’t put it on right away, instead just laying it on his neck like a scarf. 

“I’m sorry for egging you on like that, and for not stopping you from leaving,” he said, moving his chin from your head to your collarbone. 

“It was my decision, I knew it wasn’t a good idea. It was my stubbornness that put both of us at risk,” you said. 

“I like that you're stubborn, that you don’t listen to people who underestimate you,” he said.

“I thought you hated me,” you chuckle. 

“I know that’s what I show but it couldn’t be further than the truth,” he spoke softly. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” you asked, moving your back closer against his chest. 

“As mean as I’ve been, you always are so nice and understanding. Even when I don’t deserve it,” he said. 

“Zuko you always deserve it, you’re easy to love,” you say, turning to face him. 

His face was bright red and for the first time you were seeing his vulnerability. Just slightly, like he didn’t want to give too much away. You move his hair out of the way and look at his scar. Although he looked a little embarrassed, he tilted his head so you could get a full look. Without thinking, you started kissing the skin around his eye. He ended up catching your lips with his. Immediately you move so that you’re straddling his lap. His back was pressed against the wall of the cave, your back was facing the fire. Running your fingers through his hair, admiring how soft the strands were. He moaned into your mouth as you pulled and tugged. Rocking your hips against crotch, your stomach tightening after feeling him get hard. You take in a sharp intake of breath and narrow down, focusing on rubbing against his shaft. Zuko’s hips began to buck involuntarily, which led to his taking his pants off. You follow his lead and do the same, also removing your top. Using his hands to rock your hips against his. Partly because he liked spreading your wetness along himself but also enjoying watching your chest bounce. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, you let out a strangled moan. The pleasure was so intense the rocking of your hips was becoming erratic. Seeing you react so intensely to his touch made him go somewhat feral. 

Flipping you over so your back is against the cold ground. He was feverishly kissing your neck and chest, at times making you giggle. He smiled down at you, taking in how beautiful your eyes were in the soft glow of the fire. Your entire body felt like it was burning down to your core. Pulling your knees to your chest, taking the hint he sat up. He was now towering above you, his member laying on your front. Leaking pre-cum onto your lower stomach. He grabs himself, slapping his dick on your pussy. Enjoying the moans and whines coming from your mouth every time he rubbed his tip against your clit. He enjoyed watching you beneath him, desperate for his touch. A relief only he could provide you. Unable to take any more foreplay, he presses into you. Muttering curses as he is overwhelmed by your heat. How tight you felt around him and your moans matching up with his movement made him feel overstimulated. Like he couldn’t slow his heart rate down. Watching as your tits bounced with every thrust, how braindead you were from pleasure. He presses his hands down on your stomach so he could feel this cock pounding in and out of you. The sudden pressure was enough to send you over the edge. Pulling Zuko down and raking your nails down his back, 

“Fuck!” he said it loud, right in your ear. 

His thrusts were unrelenting as he chased his orgasm. Groaning and moaning into your shoulder as he finally came. Rutting into you as he came inside you, pressing himself as close as he could be to you. Petting his hair and whispering encouraging things into his hair. He laid down beside you, pulling you into his chest before covering the two of you with a woven quilt. Giving the fire one last hit before drifting off to sleep with you.

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 — 𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆. ˒ ⊹

syn. you think jealousy is a good look on aventurine. too bad he has to remind you that you belong to him, and him only. (1.8k) pair. aventurine x f!reader cw. jealous aventurine my beloved / fem-aligned reader / pet names used: pretty girl, doll, angel, princess, good girl / oral (f!receiving) / fingering / teasing and begging / prone bone / spanking (like.. one time) / p in v penetration / creampie / multiple rounds are insinuated. teehee. love, oak! loooorrrrrdddddd aventurine. i've been obsessed w him since he was mentioned in topaz's quest ♡. about to start the penacony quest now, i'm literally buzzing w/ excitement over seeing him!!!!!!!

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

aventurine thinks he can be a little bit... petty, sometimes.

but of course, who wouldn't be, when one sees some random stranger putting their hands all over what's theirs?

so obviously, aventurine does the one thing he does best.

put on a show.

"hey, pretty girl," aventurine drawls, sidling up to you as he slides an arm around your waist. the grip he has on your hip is near-bruising, the only indication that he was currently ticked off. "you tired of this bar yet? i'd like to leave soon." his voice is a soft croon as he brings his lips to your ear, warm breath brushing the sensitive skin there. "i've got better things for us to be doin' in mind."

you gasp, playfully slapping his chest. your attention is completely off the man you were just chatting up, and aventurine shoots him a lazy grin. the man merely grumbles and leaves.

it makes him feel pure satisfaction, really.

aventurine turns you in his grip so that you're chest to chest with him—forces you to tilt your head back to look up at him. he smiles prettily down at you, as if he weren't just scheming to whisk you away from all the attention you were just receiving.

"better things, huh?" you say, glossy lips forming a matching grin to his as you look up at the blond. "like what? that man was just about to buy me a drink, you know. how're you gonna make up for that?"

he nearly lets his perfect mask slip—a twitch of his eyebrow is all you notice. but he tilts his head, looks down at you with those pretty lavender eyes of his.

"oh doll, if you wanted a drink, why didn't you just say so?"

your eyes gleam with mischief. you trail your fingers up his chest, your lips pursing in a pout.

"it's more fun charming a guy into buying it.." you sigh dramatically.

"who says you haven't charmed me?"

"no one. everyone knows i've already got you wrapped around my finger."

he can't argue with that. no, he can't argue with the irrefutable truth.

because you do. he's wrapped around your pretty little finger, and you know it. you exploit it. he doesn't mind, though.

aventurine doesn't deal with what doesn't pay off. and in the end, a pretty thing like you always does.

so he smiles again, tilting your chin up with a gloved finger. he lets a little bit of the hunger he feels shine in his eyes—he basks in the way your eyes shutter, your red-painted lips parting slightly.

“how about this, then—will you let me charm you, pretty?” he purrs, thumb coming up to gently tug at your bottom lip.

your throat bobs as you swallow. a shallow nod of your head follows—as much as he’ll allow while he grips your chin.

“good. you know how great i am at making your dreams come true, don’t you?”

there’s no room for debate there, nor does he give you any; aventurine’s smug demeanor is never undeserved, if the way he has you grasping the sheets of his bed later is concrete proof of that.

“’venturine,” you whine, back arching off the ruffled white sheets of the bed, “please, need you inside me, noooow.” the last word comes out in a long moan as his fingers stroke just the right spot inside of you. a flick of his tongue against your puffy clit draws a cry of pleasure from your lips.

he hasn’t even taken his clothes off yet, and he already has you a mewling mess for him. again, he feels that familiar sense of satisfaction flow through him.

aeons. he loved seeing you so debauched, flushed and squirming beneath him as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of you.

“c’mon angel, one more time for me—you can do it, can’t you?”

the low drawl of his voice is drowned out by the lewd squelch of his fingers inside you, constantly moving and stroking your walls in just the way you liked it. at this rate, you were going to go insane, but you feel your climax cresting, rising up and up and up, until it comes crashing down with a particular crook of his fingers inside you. he doesn’t let up, doesn’t grant you any mercy as you sob and convulse with pleasure. “’venturineee!”

finally, finally, he stops, withdrawing his fingers (his sleeve is completely soaked with your essence, he notes smugly) and rising after a swift kiss to your sweet pussy. you lay there, a puddle of nerves still buzzing with pleasure.

the clink of his belt and the rustle of fabric falling to the floor, and then you’re being maneuvered so gently, rolled onto your front with large, gentle hands. there’s a pillow being slid under your hips, another for your pretty head, and then you feel the bed dip with the weight of aventurine settling into place right behind you.

you let out a soft cry as you feel the blunt head of his cock rub against your still too sensitive cunt, his hands gripping the plush globes of your ass as he spreads you for him. he loves the little sounds you make as he teases you, dipping the tip in but never quite going any farther than that.

no, he wanted to hear you beg for it.

“what do we say when we want something, princess?” aventurine hums, drawing the tip of his cock through your slick folds, achingly slow.

“oh,” you sigh sweetly. “need you to fuck me. please, ‘ven, need it so bad.”

your plea is like sugared candy on his tongue, a torturous substance he’s addicted to as he allows himself to slowly sink inside you. he takes his time—you’re whining and squirming beneath him, and he has to hold you still with firm hands—but only goes as far as an inch, shallowly moving his hips.

“like that?” he asks coyly.

you look over your shoulder to glare at him. at the nasty look you shoot him, his eyes narrow; he lifts a hand, only to bring it down on the sensitive skin on your ass. you let out a yelp.

“now, now, only good girls get what they want. you’re a good girl, aren’t ya?”

you respond with a desperate whine. aventurine knows when you’re reaching your limit though, and like the good person he is, he’s decided he’s had enough fun torturing you. besides, he’s nearing his own limit—the walls of your cunt just feel so delicious around him—and it’s taking a willpower of steel to not pound you into oblivion right then and there.

aventurine sighs dramatically, hands drifting up your spine, ghosting along your back. he likes the way you shiver beneath him, completely helpless to his whims. he’s quiet for a moment, drinking in the way you’re breathing harshly beneath him as he lets himself dip a little further into you, and then: “alright, i’ve teased you enough. you’ve been so good for me.”

the words are like music to your ears—as well as the only warning you receive before he’s gripping your hips, lifting and adjusting you so he hits just the angle he knows you like, and he starts a brutal pace that rips a harsh moan from your lips.

he’s absolutely unforgiving in the way he fucks you, but he knows it’s just the way you like it. searing, molten heat flows through your veins with every stroke, nerves like lightning as you’re overwhelmed with the all-consuming sensation of aventurine all over you. it’s not just the way he fucks you—the way he presses his chest to your back as his hips rut into you, the way he has you completely pinned, rough hands spreading you oh-so perfectly for him, the way his lips press to the nape of your neck, his breath ghosting along your skin as he groans, right up in your ear.

“fuck—you’re so fucking tight, pretty—yeah, you like this, don’t you? can feel you clenchin’ around my cock.” he makes a point to thrust his hips especially rough at the end of each sentence, coaxing a long, desperate moan from you. you’re mindlessly babbling at this point, barely able to form a coherent sentence as he fucks all sense of sanity from your head.

and when he snakes a hand around you, brushing down your navel towards the apex of your thighs, you let out a broken sob as deft fingers find your clit. paired with each perfectly aimed thrust, you’re coming undone beneath him in a matter of seconds, walls convulsing around him.

“where do you want me, angel?” aventurine coos in your ear. his voice is raspy, lust-drunk and breathy as he struggles to hold himself together, to stave off the orgasm he knows is imminent.

“inside,” you gasp out. “wan’ it inside!” your words slur together as he fucks you through your own orgasm. you feel electric as his hips start to stutter, your only other hint that aventurine is close, so so close, and you want him falling with you. so you clench the delicate muscles in your pelvis, walls fluttering around his cock so perfectly, it feels like life and death and infinity and oblivion all at once.

he presses deep inside you, holding you so tight to him as he cums, hard, just the way you wanted him to. you clutch the pillow under your head to ground yourself, muffling the moan you let out as his hips twitch and then eventually pull away, drawing himself out of you. the sensation makes you hiss softly, displeased at the empty feeling he leaves you with.

aventurine smiles at the sight—of you, blissfully fucked out on his bed, hips still slightly raised from the pillow as his cum drips out of you. it might’ve been obscene to some, but he was so utterly fucking obsessed with you that really, it’s got him ready to go for another round.

he only gives you a moment to catch your breath.

then you’re being flipped over, aventurine slotting himself between your legs, his already hard cock pressing against your messy cunt. he smiles down at you, a purely predatory look in his eyes as his gaze meets yours.

“don’t tell me you’re tired out already, princess,” he drawls, basking in the way your sleepy eyes widen with shock. “you’ve gotta cum at least a couple more times before i’m satisfied. i’m gonna make sure my name is the only one you remember, ‘kay?”

and as he slides into you, torturously slow, you realize that you might just be in for a long night.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[retroellie]

Polluted

Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.

A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)

Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer

Word count: 1.9K

Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.

You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.

Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.

"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."

His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.

You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.

"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"

You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.

One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.

"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"

His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.

"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."

You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.

"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"

You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.

You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.

"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."

Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.

"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."

You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.

"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"

Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.

"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.

Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.

"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom. 

You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.

[afieldinengland]

.

[misserabella]

I was wondering if maybe you can do vampire!reader x sub!loser!ellie??

more

ellie williams x female reader

cw; +18 content, minors dni, toe curling smut, reader is not described, not her skin or hair or body, i didn’t put her as masc or fem either, dom! vampire! reader x sub! ellie, masturbation (ellie), blood kink, prey kink (??), a lil tiny bit of angst (if we can call it that), biting (multiple bites), blood drinking, blood, overstimulation, premature ejaculation, multiple orgasms, fingering (ellie receiving), oral sex (ellie and reader receiving), cum eating, dirty talking, praising, begging, needy horny ellie, crying, face riding, multiple orgasms (ellie cums like 5 times), dirty hard sex, praising, calling ellie good girl, ass slapping (1), scissoring, ellie rides reader, hair pulling (both receiving)(reader has pullable hair), hickeys, tit and nipple play…

(okay this got a lil out of hand)

important !!!!!

how you can help palestine

why you shouldn’t buy tlou 2 remastered!!

aw she’s so sweet. and such a nerd.

since she found out you were a vampire she started investigating, looking up every website, reading through every mythology book, engulfing every last spec of information she could find. she found out the sun light actually hurt your eyes? she’d buy you the best sunglasses out in the market. that some foods were better for you than others? she was buying all of them and burning herself on the stove trying to cook.

but of course, there were some things she found out that she couldn’t exactly talk about with you.

“the bite of a vampire acts as an aphrodisiac on the prey to avoid them running away.”

as an aphrodisiac? she frowned, reading further down the article.

“the bite of a vampire on humans acts like a drug, leaving the human unable to fight the predator. instead, they could get addicted to it. studies show the increase of libido in the human after the bite takes effect.”

“oh…” now she was blushing. one of her hands unconsciously touching her neck, caressing it, lost on the words.

you’d drank blood from people before, obviously, there was actually a place that sold it for vampires in need so they wouldn’t risk hurting humans while feeding. but you and ellie had never talked about the possibility of you drinking from her.

the first time you saw her you felt your world stop, in over your 400 years of existence you’d never felt your cold dead heart beat, but as her green eyes found yours you swore it had. it was stupid, really, how you two had found each other, bumping on one another on a rainy night as ellie tried to quickly get home before she would catch a cold. she was everything. and she smelled so good… you felt your fangs in need to poke out of your gums once her essence met your senses, you could almost taste the raging sweet blood that pumped through her veins as she apologized for not have been paying attention.

you told her she could make it up to you over dinner.

you though about drinking from ellie daily. there was no way of escaping the need of burying your fangs on the tender and soft skin of her neck once you’d find yourself over her, slowly fucking your hips against hers, sucking bruises wherever your mouth could reach. it was primal, the thirst that would overcome you. it was horrid, the hunger you fought day and night to not taste her, terrified of hurting her somehow.

“subjects affirm having been able to reach orgasm without more stimuli other than the bite of their lover.”

with a blush tinting her cheeks she was hurriedly closing her laptop, feeling her whole body flushing.

of course she has noticed. the brushing of your sharp pearls against her skin while you buried her on the sheets was not easy to ignore. she’d tug at your hair at the feeling, her head tilting to the side to expose her neck for you. it was almost an invitation, unconscious, maybe.

but if it was… why was the idea of you biting her turning her on?

she bit down on her lip, sighing as she felt that well-known tingling grow in between her legs. she pushed her laptop aside on the bed.

you weren’t home. you wouldn’t be for a couple of hours. work duties.

a silent moan left her lips as one of her hands slowly trailed down her stomach and boxers —since she was only wearing that and a shirt on your shared apartment— cupping her pussy, which was getting more soaked by the minute.

she closed her eyes, teasing herself through the cloth, biting down on her bottom lip. she thought of you, of your sweet voice and your soft eyes that would sharpen once you’ve caged her under yourself, looking down at her like a predator would do with prey.

‘so pretty… you look so pretty like this for me.’

her free hand came up to her breasts, squeezing, groping, pulling up her shirt to have better access to her sensitive perky nipples.

‘i bet you’re so wet for me… let me see baby.’

she pulled her underwear off, exposing her drooling cunt to the air. she’d remember how you’d groan at the sight, pupils blown, tongue licking your lips, hungry to taste her. you’d always compliment her about how good she tasted, spending hours in between her legs, lapping at her folds, sucking at her puffy clit until she’d cry from the overstimulation.

and yet your thirst wouldn’t disappear.

ellie wondered if she could satiate you with her blood. she wondered what your reaction would be once it would fill your mouth, warm and thick…

“fuck…” she moaned, plunging two of her fingers inside her pulsing walls, thrusting a couple of times to come back out and tease her throbbing clit, arching her back.

she was soaked, so soaked she could hear herself, the sound of her fingers teasing through her pinkish folds.

‘can you hear her? she’s begging for it. so cute, and i haven’t even fucked you yet.’

she whimpered your name, her thighs trembling as she rubbed herself.

and that was when it came to her mind. your lips on her neck, your fangs against her skin, ready to bite, ready to suck her dry.

and just with the thought of it she was moaning non-stop, her high hitting her like a million bricks as she squirmed at her own touch against her clit, soaking the sheets under her body.

-

after that newly found information, ellie became quieter around you. she was always lost in thought, fern green eyed dozing off into the distance, her pinkish bottom lip caged in between her teeth. she’d grown shy, avoidant, pulling away early on your kisses, blushing and squirming when your mouth would reach her neck, and quickly —against her will— finding something to get busy with, maybe the dishes, or the laundry.

it left you confused to say the least, wanting, daunted. why was she avoiding you? at first you thought she just wasn’t in the mood, something you could understand, but you could hear her heartbeat, smell the arousal pool in between her legs, feel her need.

so why?

it was late at night when she got back to your apartment, lately she seemed to be avoiding you like the plague, taking extra shifts or hanging out with dina and jesse when you’d be free and home.

she was silent with it, softly stepping inside and closing the door. you had to give it to her, had been normal you wouldn’t have noticed it, too deep in slumber. but you weren’t normal. and you weren’t asleep.

she jumped when she noticed you, lurking in the shadows not under the moonlight.

“fuck.” she sighed, a hand against her heart. “you scared me.” you crooked your head, stepping closer to her spot beside the door. you were a true predator, eyes dark and movements smooth, calculated. “what are you doing up? it’s late.” she nervously chuckled, her heart beating faster as you approached her, making her back away against the door. “what…-“

“why are you avoiding me, ellie?” you inquired her, voice low, sultry. captivating yet dangerous. her mouth gaped like a fish’s.

“m…me? avoiding you? i’m not…”

“you are.” you looked at her up and down. she looked pretty, with a green tank top and navy blue jeans with her beaten up converse. “you know i can hear your heartbeat baby…” you slowly said, your fingers trailing down the pulse on her neck, making goosebumps explode on her skin, her breath shudder. “there’s no use in lying to me.” she harshly swallowed, her greenish eyes looking everywhere but you. “you know how difficult it is to control myself when you prance around smelling so damn wet?” the hand on her neck came up to her jaw, gripping it to direct her towards you. “look at me.” she did. you were so close your lips were almost touching. her eyes fluttered when you slightly brushed them against hers, making her follow after your touch, but you kept her in place, making her slightly whine. “tell me why you’ve been teasing me. i know you want it too.” one of your hands came down her body, stopping in between her legs to cup her pulsing desperate cunt. “i can smell you soaking those pretty panties of yours.” she blushed. so hard even the tip of her ears went vermillion. you cooed at the tiny whimper she let out.

“please…” she begged, and you caressed her bottom lip with your thumb.

“tell me what you want. you know how to use your words. be a good girl.”

“i want you to bite me.”

you swore your ears were deceiving you. your eyes widened at her words, staring at her for what it seemed minutes before you pulled away from her, your cold blood turning into ice.

“no.”

ellie almost whined at the loss of your touch, maybe at your answer.

“please.”

she stepped towards you, a pout pulling from her features, hands on your shoulders trailing down your your chest, surrounding your neck, exposing her own to you. your eyes momentarily met her soft pale skin, the pulsing vein on the crook of her shoulder and neck. you could almost taste it. thick and heavy in your mouth.

“ellie.” you harshly closed your eyes, fighting the need of your gums to break your gums. “i could hurt you.”

“i can take it.” she promised, one of her hands cupping your cheek to make you look at her. “i want this.” you groaned. “i want you.” your lips brushed, and your tongue came harshly into her mouth as her own needy crashed against yours. she moaned as your hands came down to her thighs, pulling from her to jump and surround your waist to move the two of you to your bedroom.

you fell backwards onto the bed with her on your lap. she was desperate, hungry for your touch after so long without relief. but you were starving.

“‘s this why you were avoiding me? poor thing just was too shy to ask?” she nodded, biting onto her bottom lip. “fuck. you’re killing me. you smell so fucking good…” you hid your face on her neck, leaving soft kisses on her skin, making the green eyed girl crook her head aside to give you more space.

“please… bite me. please.” she pleaded, one of her hands on your hair, tugging, doe eyes teary in need. you wanted to ruin her.

“shit. are you sure? i could-“

“please.” she nodded, pulling you closer to her pulse. you groaned, your fangs breaking your gums as you felt your hunger kick in, your want.

you left a last soft kiss on her skin before your teeth came crashing down against it, puncturing it. a deep moan left your throat when it hit you. the metalic, warm and sweet taste of her warm filling your mouth.

if ellie smelled good, she tasted heavenly.

the auburn haired let out the most beautiful and pornographic whimper once she felt it, her whole body going numb yet exploding in sensitivity at the feeling of your bite. it only hurt for a second, before the effects of the bite rushed through her body. before she knew it she was thrusting against your hips, pulling you closer, feeling an adrenaline rush, her body shake and her pussy throb, slick quickly pooling in between her lips and drenching her panties. she felt it coming. you hadn’t even touched her and yet she was so close to an orgasm…

she moaned your name, and you grunted, pulling away to look at her flushed face and hazy eyes. she looked completely fucked out, neck glistening in her crimson blood.

you smirked when you saw her squirm under your touch on her hips, going up and down her thighs. “that feel good, baby?”

she bit down on her lip, nodding.

“more. please. touch me, please.” she begged, rocking her hips against yours, what made you moan. she felt like she was gonna die if you didn’t touch her.

“you want me to touch you, pretty girl?” she nodded once again, raising her arms for you to take off her tank top, exposing her perky breasts and rosy nipples, to which you attached to.

“fuck…” she ground herself on your lap, anxiously and hurriedly taking care of your own top.

“you’re gonna be the death of me.” you grunted, flipping her over and pushing her against the duvet to take her pants and panties off, your pupils blown out at the sight of her drooling pussy. she whined when she felt your fingers slide in between her folds, screamed when, with just a mere touch against her clit she was falling over the edge. your stomach turned, and if your heart beat you were sure it would’ve skipped one of its jumps. your eyes were widened as you watched her come down from it in heavy pants, her cheeks turning red at the realization that she had came with just a mere graze.

“fuck…” she muttered, hiding her face from you behind her hands. you quickly removed them. so turned on you swore your whole body was aching in need to have her.

“don’t you dare hide from me. not when you look so pretty when you cum.” ellie’s teary eyes watched you crawl down her body to position yourself in between her legs, your hungry eyes transfixed on her cum soaked cunt. you couldn’t wait to clean her creamy release with your tongue. “i want to watch you do it over and over and over again.” your irises turned red as you stared into her fern ones, watching her back arch and her jaw fall when your fangs dug into the soft pale skin of her thigh. a loud moan broke her throat. your eyes closed as her sweet blood filled your mouth and warmed your own throat. you hummed, your hips thrusting against the bed. “fuck. i want to devour you.” you growled, your mouth moving from her thigh to her soaked cunt, lapping at her cum with a panting mouth. you thought nothing could be better than her blood. but her cum with her blood? you were sure that, if not been immortal, you would have died right there and then. ellie screamed your name, her legs closing around your head as you hungrily ate her out, your hands coming up to her thighs to push them apart and give you more space. she was squirming like crazy, moaning and whimpering, crying. she was so overstimulated already… “quit moving.”

“oh my god. ohmygodohmygodohmygod…” she mumbled. “i’m gonna cum again!” she weeped as you sucked on her puffy and throbbing clit. you quickly retrieved one of your hands from her thighs to fuck her gaping drooling hole with two of your fingers. just one curl from them against her g spot and she was shaking, creaming all over them.

“fuuuck. that’s it. cum for me, baby. so fucking sweet.” you licked her clean, sucking at her clit and hearing her cry. her hands tugged from your hair, the heels of her feet anchoring themselves on the duvet to try and scape your mouth.

“too much. ‘s too much!” her high subsided just the slightest to start to build again at an incredible speed, making her cum again in a matter of seconds. you pulled away with a soaked gaping mouth.

“did you just cum twice?” you inquired, in awe, watching the fat tears that rolled down her strained and flushed face. you plugged your fingers out, watching her creamy release drip out of her hole. you crawled back up her body, cupping her face. she was dizzy in ecstasy, her pretty green eyes swelled with tears.

“more…” she pleaded, her hands on your hair, pushing you to her slightly bleeding neck, inviting you to sink your fangs back in, to suck her dry, give her more of that delirious pleasure.

you groaned.

“you’re killing me, you know that?”

you buried your face on the crook of her neck, licking up the little droplets of blood that seeped from the punctures on her skin before diving in, making her let out this pretty little sound.

her nails dug on your back, her own arching underneath you as her legs surrounded your hips, pulling you closer as she tilted her face to the side. “feels sooo gooood.” she slurred, whimpering when your hands came up to her perfect breasts, squeezing the fat in between your fingers. you wondered how much she could take, how much she could give you. ellie would let you drain the last drop of her blood out of her if that meant this feeling wouldn’t stop.

“need your pretty pussy on mine, baby. want to feel your cum dripping on it.” you sucked bruises on her skin, watching her nod. “can you be a good girl and do that for me?” your sultry voice asked against her ear, your hips giving a little thrust against hers, making the material of your jeans brush against her sensitive and puffy folds.

“yes.” she gasped, nodding, to what you left your place in between her legs, getting on your feet to unbuckle your jeans, but the auburn haired was quicker than you, her shaky pretty hands taking care of it and hurriedly pushing your panties and jeans down your legs for you to kick them away.

you moaned when you suddenly felt her mouth on you, her soft tongue lapping at your clit.

“oh fuck.” you cursed in a gasp, one of your hands coming down to her head, fingers lacing on her hair, to stabilize yourself. “what are you doing?” you moaned when you felt her suck on it, your eyes closing shut for a second before looking down at her.

“i’m hungry.” she muttered against your pussy. the sight in front of you was one to behold.

your girl was on her hands and knees, back arched for you, hazy drunk eyes looking up at you as she slowly glided her pink tongue in between your soaked lips. you gasped, pushing her further against your cunt once you’d put one of your legs up on the bed, foot against the sheets, bending your knee and opening your legs to give her better access.

“jesus christ.”

usually ellie would be shy, always asking for permission to take care of you, to touch you, to eat you. but now, she was taking what she wanted —no, what she needed— from you. and that was making your mind spiral.

her hands came up to grip at your hips and legs, making out dirtily with your cunt, looking at you, teasing you. “want you to fill my mouth.” she said before licking a fat strip from your hole to your clit, sucking at it and letting it go with a pop.

“yeah? you want me to cum in that pretty mouth of yours baby?” she nodded. “then stick out your tongue, gonna fuck myself with it.” she did as you said, flattening her tongue and moaning when your grip on her hair only tightened, bucking your hips against her tongue, perfectly rubbing your clit. “fuck. that’s it. such a good fucking mouth, doll.” she hummed, her nails digging on your flesh. “gonna give you all my cum baby. and you’re gonna be a good girl and swallow it, aren’t you ellie?” she nodded. you grunted, fucking yourself faster on her tongue. you were so riled up and sensitive… you weren’t gonna last. “shit. i’m gonna cum.” you moaned, and she eagerly lapped at your folds, pulling you closer by your ass cheeks to her face to make sure to not leave a single drop behind. “fuck!” you cursed as you felt the snap of your high on your lower stomach, moaning as you creamed all over her tongue, making her whimper. “take it. take it all.”

she slurped and licked you clean, fucking you through it until your breath stabilized.

after coming down, you let go of her, taking in her disheveled state; messy hair, dizzy eyes and shiny chin and lips. you got on the bed with her, laying on your back and spreading your legs.

“come over here. come and ride my pussy.” she crawled towards you, feeling her arousal dripping down her thighs. “give me your back, baby.” she followed your orders, feeling your hands on her hips as she got on her knees, hands against the sheets to lower herself until he was seating against your open cunt. the first touch was heavenly, making the two of you moan. “you’re so fucking wet…” you sighed as she started to move, back and forth against your pussy, her clit gliding in between your folds as yours did the same in between hers. “did eating me out turned you on that much, baby?” she whimpered, nodding, to what you gave her a slap in the ass. “use your words.”

“yes, mmh.”

“that feels good, pretty? feel good jumping on my clit?” her pace was picking up, her moans and cries getting louder. “so hot…” you grabbed at the fat of her cheeks, dragging her harder against your pussy. you could feel the cum from her previous orgasms coming out of her to drench your cunt, making a mess in between your thighs yet making it easier for her to fuck herself on you. “doing so good for me…”

she moaned your name, going faster, harder. “feels so good…” she cried, feeling a new orgasm starting to build inside of her due to the constant rubbing of her clit against your folds.

“yeah? gonna cum for me, ellie? gonna cream my pussy?” she nodded.

“yeah, fuck, yes. i’m so close. please…” you grunted, taking her hips with your hands and fucking her harder in between grunts. you too were close, still sensitive due to your recent orgasm.

“go ahead baby, cum for me, wanna see it drip.” with a scream, she was cumming for you, for the forth time that night, her ears ringing and sight blacking out at the intensity. this was not a normal orgasm. it was bigger. harder. it was breaking her apart.

you moaned at the sight of her pussy squirting all over yours, drenching your cunt and the sheets below your bodies. “fuuuck.” you couldn’t hold it in anymore, cumming along with her and fucking the two of you through it to extend her high as much as possible.

once you two came down, you rested against the head of the bed, capturing the auburn haired in between your arms, pressing her back against your naked chest.

you held her as she recovered her breath, caressing her tummy, her thighs… until…

“what are you…, mhh fuck!” she whimpered when she felt the sting of your fangs against the sensitive skin of her neck, her blood being drained out of her veins until her head felt dizzy. her thighs shook when your fingers met her swollen pretty little clit, your tongue licking the new punctures clean as you whispered on her ear.

“more.”

-

a/n: idk what to say😵‍💫😵‍💫

KEEP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE!!!!! 🇵🇸

[coryosmin]

Personal Secretary -

Young President Snow x Secretary Reader

About: President Snow is someone that prides himself on being a loyal husband and amazing President to the country of Panem. However, he does have quite the sweet spot for his secretary.

word count: 2,300

Warnings: NSFW Content, MDNI, cheating (not on you), unprotected sex, p in v sex, praise, quickie, etc.

“Gem of Panem,

Mighty City,

Through the ages you shine anew.”

You stood at your desk with a hand on your heart as the sound of the Capitol’s anthem played over the speakers. It was eight o’clock in the morning, the time the President had arrived at his office. This was a routine that happened each and every morning, to show one’s respect for their country and the mighty city of the Capitol.

“We humbly kneel,

To your ideal,

And pledge our love to you!”

Everyone was facing the flag of Panem, speaking the words to the anthem in unison as it played across the building. A few years back, barely anyone knew the anthem. It was a song made during the dark ages and only recently had it been brought back when Coriolanus Snow came into power. Something about showing pride for one’s home.

“Gem of Panem,

Heart of Justice,

Wisdom Crowns your marble brow.

You give us light,

You reunite,

To you we make our vow.”

You had always felt prideful for your city. Having been born and raised in the Capitol, gone to the Academy, gone to the University, you had been a star pupil in the eyes of your educators. Your family had been quite prominent but it was your skill set that really made you become the right hand woman to the President of the whole nation of Panem.

“Gem of Panem,

Seat of power,

Strength in Peacetime, shield in strife,”

You had gone to school with Coriolanus Snow, though you were a year behind him. You worked hard to make something of yourself outside of your family’s affiliations. Your family was known for investing in high fashion items, owning many of the high end fashion stores in the Capitol itself. And while your father had wanted that life for you as well, you wanted to become something else. And you did.

“Protect our land,

With armored hand,

Our Capitol,

Our life.”

When the anthem ended, you all went back to your work. It wasn’t easy being the secretary of the President. His schedule was quite tiresome most days. And today most certainly was one of those days. You focused on the papers set in front of you, sorting through them and seeing which ones were important enough for President Snow to take a look at. By ten in the morning, you knocked on his office door to give him his schedule.

“Come in,” came the authoritative voice that was Coriolanus Snow. The President of Panem had been elected about a year ago when he was just twenty-four years old and recently married to Livia Cardew, a woman he simply married for convenience and nothing more. In fact, he hated Livia Cardew quite a bit. Though she doesn’t know that and the nation doesn’t need to know that. And now, here he was, twenty-five years old and working hard to ensure that the country is running smoothly. And you? You were very patriotic towards your President.

“I have your schedule for the rest of the day, sir,” You said as you walked into the office, closing the door gently behind you and walking over to his desk. President Snow was sat at his desk, dressed in a navy blue suit with a red rose in the pocket. His hair was slicked back, making him look even more handsome than usual. Your heels clicked with each step you took and Coriolanus was very obviously staring you up and down. “And a list of messages to give you,” You added.

Coriolanus licked his lips before looking at your face. “Go on,” he said, using a hand to signal you to speak.

“You have lunch today with the new Head Gamemaster to discuss ideas for eighteenth annual Hunger Games at twelve p.m, a meeting with the mayor of District One at one p.m, a phone call with the Head General at two p.m, and an address to the nation at three p.m about the sewage system,” You explained, looking down at your notes before looking back up at Coriolanus. “After that, you have a Gala to attend tonight at eight o’clock with your wife who is wondering if you will be coming home for dinner.”

Coriolanus sighed, running a hand over his face as he thought over everything. “That’s quite a lot for today,” He exclaimed. “Tell Livia I will not be having dinner with her tonight.”

You nodded your head. “Right away, sir,” you said, giving him a polite smile.

“You’ll be attending the Gala as well, correct?” Coriolanus asked.

You nodded your head in confirmation. “That’s correct, sir,” You replied. “My whole family will be attending.”

“Good,” Coriolanus smirked at you. “I’ll see you later then, Miss L/N.”

“I’ll see you later, President Snow,” And with that, you left his office to get back to work.

When you arrived at the Gala dressed in a ravishing black dress that accentuates your curves, you knew that you were officially the best dressed at the event. Your hair was down and styled to perfection. Your makeup was done elegantly with a red lip. You walked into the event, immediately greeted by other prominent families within the Capitol. You greeted each and every one of them with a smile and a kind greeting. Only the best from a high member of society.

You looked around the room, noticing President Snow across the room with his wife standing next to him. His eyes were immediately on you. You gave him a smirk as he did a slight tilt of his head, signaling to follow him. He excused himself from Livia before walking towards the bathrooms. After a moment, you followed.

Your relationship with Coriolanus Snow is a bit of a complicated one that had begun when he was voted in as President. Being a year below him during school, the two of you interacted only briefly. But he hired you based on your family’s name and your high grades from the University. After your hiring, it was safe to assume that there was more to it. He would always look you up and down, taking in your beautiful form. And you didn’t hate it one bit. Coriolanus was an attractive man. And you were very patriotic.

About two months into his presidency, the two of you stayed late to work on an address that was going to be given the next day. A late night with your boss with dinner had led to the two of you talking about anything and everything unrelated to work. And that night, he fucked you on his desk without any regrets. That was the start of an affair that neither of you wanted to end.

You made your way to the bathroom, knocking on the door. You heard the faint “come in” of Coriolanus’s voice. Before walking in, you looked around to ensure no one else was looking. You opened the door, walking into the room before quickly closing it behind you and locking the door. As soon as you did so, Coriolanus was pinning you to the wall, his lips immediately on yours.

You let out a soft sound, kissing Coriolanus back with the same hunger and passion he was giving you. You brought your arms up around his neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “You look so beautiful tonight,” he murmured softly, pulling away to look into your eyes.

You gave him a soft smile. “Thank you,” You said, kissing his lips. “You look quite handsome yourself,” You added, looking at Coriolanus’s dark green suit.

Coriolanus sighed. “Livia wanted me to wear it,” He said, slightly annoyed, “I think it looks horrendous. But I must be a supportive husband and follow through with my wife’s wishes.” Coriolanus dipped his head to kiss your neck, using his hands to explore your body.

You laughed, nodding your head. “What a wonderful husband you are,” you said a bit sarcastically.

Coriolanus hummed against your skin. “The best, really,” he said just as sarcastically. He lifted your dress over your hips. You chose not to wear anything underneath the dress which Coriolanus believed to be an excellent decision. “This is quite helpful,” he murmured softly. “Makes things easier.”

“Did it just for you,” You murmured back.

“You’re so good to me,” Coriolanus said. He pressed himself against you, letting you feel his hard on through his trousers. “We have to be quick,” he said a bit unhappily. Coriolanus didn’t like to do quickies as much as he loved taking his time with you. He adores making you feel just as good as you make him feel. “But I promise tomorrow evening will be ours,” he added.

“I’ll hold you to that promise,” You smiled. “How do you want me?”

Coriolanus unbuttoned his pants enough to reveal his hard cock. He too wasn’t wearing any underwear. He licked his lips as he thought about your cunt. “Turn around for me.”

You obliged, turning around with a hand on the door of the bathroom. Coriolanus wrapped an arm around you, dipping his head to kiss your neck as he guided his cock to your entrance. He eased himself inside of you, causing the both of you to let out shaky breaths. You put a hand over your mouth to avoid moaning. “You’re so wet for me,” Coriolanus whispered into your ear, moving his hips slowly at first. “Wish I could take my time with you.”

“Always ready for your cock,” You whispered back, licking your lips.

“Mmm, yes you are,” Coriolanus replied, snapping his hips faster.

You gasped, trying to keep yourself from moaning like a slut. There were people just outside the door and it would be an all-time scandal if the people of Panem found out that the President was having an affair with his secretary.

“Gotta stay quiet for me, baby,” Coriolanus said shakily, thrusting his cock in and out of you tight cunt at a relentless pace. “Ah—fuck, you feel so good,” he almost whined in your ear.

You didn’t reply, not trusting yourself to not moan loudly if you uncover your mouth. Instead you met his thrusts with your own movements, his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly. Coriolanus was moving hard and fast, burying his cock inside of you so good. You threw your head back, closing your eyes in the process.

Coriolanus began kissing your neck, sucking on your pulse point. “Gonna cum inside your tight pussy,” he whispered against your skin, thrusting his hips frantically. You could tell that Coriolanus was very close with how breathless he sounded and how he was holding back his own moans. You felt yourself getting closer, the repetitive thrusting into your g-spot sending you close to the edge.

“Gonna cum, oh my god—“ Coriolanus whispered harshly, close to just moaning out loud as he started spilling inside of you.

With a gasp, you clench around Coriolanus’s cock, gushing as you come. You felt the liquid dripping down your leg as you arched your back against Coriolanus. He fucked you through your orgasm, rocking his hips to milk the both of you. And when you both finished, he pulled out, immediately stuffing his cock back into his pants and zippering them. You were both breathing heavily as you took a moment to just lean your head against the bathroom door. Coriolanus, oh-so-kindly put your dress back down perfectly before turning you around and wrapped his arms around you.

“I needed that,” he murmured into your ear as he pulled you close to him, kissing the top of your head.

You smiled lazily, leaning against Coriolanus as you hugged him back. “Me too,” you replied. “They’re probably wondering where you are,” you sighed.

“Mmm,” Coriolanus made a noise of acknowledgment. “I wish I could just take you home,” he said, breathing in deeply.

It was always moments like this that made you wonder if Coriolanus Snow, the President of Panem, loved you. He always treated you like he had the utmost feelings for you. He would take you out for dinners, buy you gifts, care for you in such a way that only a lover would. But ultimately, you knew that wasn’t the case. Because Coriolanus Snow was incapable of loving another person. That’s what he told you, at least. Regardless, you didn’t mind it whatsoever. Because you’re his secretary, his true right hand woman. And that’s all that mattered, right?

After a few moments, the two of you pulled away and gathered yourselves. You cleaned yourself up, making sure nothing was on your legs while Coriolanus fixed his hair. He gave you one soft kiss. “I’ll see you,” he murmured against your lips.

You smiled, kissing him back. “See you, sir,” you replied.

Coriolanus smirked before walking out of the bathroom. You stayed back for a moment, fixing your lipstick and your hair in front of the mirror. And after a minute, you walked out and back into the party as though nothing happened. You glanced at Coriolanus, who was talking to some military official, and then looked at his wife, who was looking at you.

That’s when you knew Livia Cardew wasn’t as oblivious as she made herself out to be. And you? You simply winked at her and smirked before turning your attention to a random Capitol citizen.

[mmikmmik]

some of the things about dunmeshi that make me so so emotional, in no particular order

Laios killing chimera Falin because even though it would be much cleaner and easier for Marcille to kill her with magic, he doesn’t want Marcille to carry that weight if this is Falin’s final death (incredibly underrated moment)

Chilchuck asking Marcille if she wants to meet his family, even though she’s being Like That, and Marcille immediately perking up

just in general the incredible love and gentleness the party shows towards dungeon lord Marcille and their unwillingness to hurt her and how much she obviously loves and treasures them in return. so powerful.

HIPPOGRIFF SOUP……..

The implication that Laios, on at least some level, wishes to abandon his humanity completely and also wishes he could always be there for Marcille and his other loved ones, and reconciles those two wishes with an impossible fantasy of leaving a “better” version of himself behind that can be with them instead (very underrated)

Laios thinking in one of the bonus chapters(?) about how intense dragon experts get and how it made him feel inadequate and alienated from loving dragons, but when he really thinks about them/interacts with them, he realizes it makes him happy and he really does love them. autistic joy is so real.

when the winged lion asks Falin if she wants to eat more. something something the inseparability of hunger from life. for some reason that single line made tears spring to my eyes. and then she says yes.

Laios in the final scene being so kind to the children and explaining himself to them. he’s so good!!! all you fuckers [other characters] misjudged him!!! you never knew him!!! and now he’s loved and understood and creating a better world!!!

[ladyfogg]

Perfect Fit

Fic Summary: Since the first time you let him bite you, Astarion knew seducing you would be easy. What he didn’t anticipate were the feelings that came with it.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Drow!Monk Reader

Word Count: 11.7k

Warnings: Biting, Blood Drinking (Vampire and all that), Male Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Oral (Female Receiving), Sex, Grinding, Cuddling

A/N: I’m really glad I took my time with this one because I absolutely love how it came out. Enjoy! I don’t know if I’ll write any other Astarion fics but we’ll see.

---

Just a taste, that is all he needs.

Boars and wildlife will not suffice, not if your little troop of weirdos keeps going at the same grueling pace. Since the moment he had been snatched up and that damn tadpole shoved into his eye it has been one battle after another.

The diet Cazador forced him onto had already weakened him. And Astarion knew that if he did not do something soon, if he couldn’t keep up with the others, you will turn your back on him.

After all, why keep him around if he isn’t useful?

No, he needs to stay in your good graces. More than that, he needs you to trust him, to care for him. It’s the only way he can ensure that when his former master comes knocking, because Astarion is not naïve enough to assume he is completely free, you will be there shielding him, to knock back.

Which you are obviously capable of doing. He’s seen you fight enough times to know you have a quick temper and an even quicker right hook.

You are the defacto leader, the one who always seems to do the talking even though you’re not the most charismatic of the bunch. Yet, when you open your mouth, the others listen, take your word as law even when they don’t agree.

Astarion finds himself falling in line along with them. Then again, he has two hundred years of conditioning to contend with. He wonders what excuse the others have.

Regardless, the plan remains the same. Seduce you, get you on his side, save his spectacular, frankly tight, ass. Simple. He’s played this part more times than he can count and can do it in his trance.

Of course, none of that matters if he starves to death. The gnawing hunger deep in his belly is distracting and has been for days. He’s used to ignoring it, even in the thick of combat. But he can’t, not tonight.

Tonight, it’s bad enough to get in the way of hunting. He can’t keep up with a lame doe he stumbles across. It bolts before he is even close enough to lunge. Not good. He returns to his tent frustrated and desperate.

Red eyes scan the still camp, predatory and sharp. He told you all he would keep watch because he needed time and space to think, which is partially true. However, that was when he hoped to catch dinner.

How in the Hells can he bloody think when he’s starving?

There’s a rustling near the fire, immediately drawing his attention. His gaze falls on you while you shift, your back to him as your body rolls towards the warmth of the campfire. A breeze glides through their encampment, bringing your tantalizing scent towards him, beckoning, teasing.

Astarion takes a deep inhale, eyes closed as he unwittingly gives into his instincts. Hunting pushes them away. But with no wildlife to sate him, his feet move on their own, dragging him closer to your prone body. When he opens his eyes, his vision blocks out everything that isn’t you.

The hunger is all that matters and right now, the hunter has finally found his prey.

His steps make no noise as practice and skill take over. He’s close enough to see the subtle rise and fall of your breath, the dim firelight framing you with its eerie glow, leading him like a beacon in the never-ending dark.

Astarion takes a knee, arms out for balance and eyes closed as he moves purely on instinct. He opens his mouth, fangs dripping with saliva at the promise of a meal, a real meal…

A second later he feels you move and his eyes snap open, only to find yours staring up at him. Cold realization slams into him like a heavy maul, making him blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Shit.”

Immediately, he backs away as you quickly rise to your feet, eyes narrowed in distrust. You don’t even have a chance to speak before he launches into an explanation, trying to keep his voice hushed to avoid waking the others.

“No, no, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” he insists. “I wasn’t going to hurt you I…” He pauses, taking a breath to ground himself. The bloodlust isn’t satiated, not by a long shot but it is tempered by a furious-looking monk. “I just needed…well…blood.”

It sounds lame even to his own ears. Not his best work but, then again, he isn’t at his best.

You swear, burying your face in your hands. “Fucking unbelievable!” you exclaim in a harsh whisper. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it! We even found the boar you snacked on. And you were so quick to brush it away.”

“It’s not what you think!”

Astarion’s voice goes up and you motion for him to be quiet. A quick glance confirms the others are still fast asleep.

The next thing he knows, you’re grabbing his sleeve and tugging him away from the fire, away from the others, which is not at all what he's anticipating. He doesn’t even have a chance to register you’re touching until your hand is already gone, leaving a phantom of its warmth.

“I’m not some monster,” he persuades. “I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds, whatever I can get. I’m…I’m just too slow right now. Too weak.” He pauses, the hunger taking hold once more. “If I just had a little blood, I could fight better. Please.”

There’s a sharp pain between his eyes, the familiar trigger of the tadpole lodged in his brain. He recognizes the sensation, knows it’s you reaching out, asking, and after a moment of hesitation, he lets you in.

Unlike your companions, you’ve embraced the new connection, used it to convince others to move out of your way or do as you say. Not within the group of course. He suspects you’re too noble for that.

Astarion hasn’t had much time to practice himself. No time like the present. He needs you to see, needs you to understand that what he says is true.

The trust he is trying to build is at stake, no pun intended. You need to see that this is an anomaly, an unfortunate side effect of the intense fighting you both had to endure the last few days.

So Astarion shows you, lets you see fleeting images of what he’s hunted in the woods. But this is all still new. He does not know how it works, does not anticipate the flood of other memories, personal ones he isn’t ready to share.

A dark street, a willing mark, a soft supple body for Cazador’s dark needs. They flicker one after another, a blur of faceless victims he’s lost count of. Yet, none of them with his fangs at their throat or their blood on his lips. It becomes too much too fast.

He gathers his strength and throws up those mental blocks, the ones he’s had for decades yet seem to be crumbling in an instant. With a mental shove, he pushes you out.

While Astarion's body reels from the onslaught, you remain stoic, arms crossed as you stare at him with that intense gaze of yours. The only indication anything is amiss is a head tilt.

How? How are you already so used to these damn tadpoles? You don’t even blink, and with the shadows of the night wrapped around the both of you, he can’t read your expression even with Darkvision. But he can assume and right now, he’s sure he’s fucked up. All he needed was you to trust him and because of this insistent hunger, he’s failed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

This is not the question he expects and he blinks, taken aback. You don’t sound angry, hells it would be easier if you were. Anger he’s used to, can handle with poise. But Astarion thinks he can work with this, whatever it is.

Because it’s not pity, it’s not empathy, it’s something he does not have a name for.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no, more likely you’ll run a stake through my ribs,” he explains. “No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

Of course you can’t. Anyone who ever put their trust in him came to bloody ends. Yet, he’s seen you drop a gnoll with nothing but your fists and an insane high kick, so he feels you may be sturdier than most.

You study him closely, and Astarion does everything to appear docile and properly chastised, hunching his body to make himself smaller. There’s a beat where neither of you blink or speak. However, he catches the subtle slump of your shoulders and a sigh escapes your lips.

“I believe you,” you say. “And I do trust you.”

Astarion slowly exhales his own sigh, this one of relief. “Thank you,” he says.

Then, because he can’t help himself, because his empty stomach twists, because you’re still close enough for him to inhale your scent, he pushes his luck.

“Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” he asks, a hopeful lilt to his voice as he bats his eyelashes at you. “I only need a taste, I swear.”

He fully expects your refusal and wouldn’t blame you in the slightest. As much as this hunger is driving him to madness, he is fully prepared to slink away with his tail tucked between his legs if it means he lives to seduce you another day.

Yet the next words out of your mouth throw him off his game.

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need.”

There’s no hiding the surprise on his face. He knows you see it yet you don’t gloat or react, only smile.

“Really? I—” He clears his throat and recovers, swagger in place as comfortable as a well-worn mask molded just for him. “Of course, not one drop more. Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

He motions towards your bedroll with a bow. As you brush past and turn towards the fire, your smirk is wider, as if you can tell how much excitement is building within him. Then again, with the tadpole and your uncanny ability to read people, you probably do.

The others are still silent and sleeping as you lay back on your bedroll. Astarion’s chest heaves and he licks his lips as the prospect of blood, humanoid blood, becomes all he can focus on. He’s salivating again, red eyes drawn to the smooth expanse of your neck.

At first, all he can hear is the crackling of the fire. But when he leans in, the steady beating of your heart breaks through the noises of the night. Bloody Hells, he can hear the blood rushing through your veins. It hypnotizes him, draws him forward as you roll your head to the side.

White fangs pierce dark skin, sliding clean through to find a thick, pulsing vein. Underneath the rush, he almost misses the soft gasp push past your lips.

Almost.

But he doesn’t have time to process it because the first drops of blood touch his tongue and nothing else matters. Not mind flayers, not tadpoles, not Cazador, nothing but the sweet, red liquid that is sliding down his throat carrying your scent.

Everything else before pales in comparison.

There’s no fear. When he hunts he can taste the deep fear of his prey in their final moments. But this is different. You are different.

It’s such an onslaught of emotions he can’t process them right away. It’s secondhand, like trying to grab a rapidly fading echo in a dark cave.

Astarion doesn’t anticipate it and can’t recognize half of them at first. Sensation is what he does recognize. Pain is immediate, followed by warmth leading into heat in his cheeks and stomach. So much heat. He’s been cold for two hundred years, he’s forgotten what it’s like to have body heat, to be hot.

His body naturally curls around yours, one hand sliding under your head to cradle it close. The fingers of his other hand dig into the packed soil, gripping for something solid yet finding nothing.

Your body arches into his, breasts pressed to his chest and for the briefest moment, he imagines how better this would be if he could feel your bare skin to his.

Then another splatter of blood hits the back of his throat as your heart rate increases and the thought is lost.

Instinct wins out once more and Astarion groans, sucking at the wound with renewed fervor. This is better than he could have imagined. You’re better. All robust and tantalizingly smooth, finer than the finest wine he’s ever sampled. He licks at your skin, gathering as much of the precious liquid as he can. He knows it’s supposed to be a taste, but he needs more. Wants more…

A hand on his shoulder draws him out of his stupor and a firm shove has him breaking free with an orgasmic gasp. Life now drums through his veins, yours and his comingling into a surge of energy that has his dead heart thrumming harder than he ever remembers.

“Enough,” you say, your voice gruff and small, though still commanding. He thinks for a moment you might have actually cast Command on him, until his addled brain remembers you don’t use magic.

Astarion pulls himself together, comes back into his body in a way that’s far more pleasant than it has been in the past. He’s sure he’s made a mess but when he looks down, all he sees are two small puncture wounds with the barest hint of blood. Small specks of his spit glint in the firelight.

He resists the urge to kiss them away, instead stumbling back onto his haunches to give you space.

You slowly sit up and he catches you wincing. It’s the brief flash of pain that helps him reign himself further in. You said you trusted him, let him drink from you, he will not, could not, betray that trust, the gift you’ve given him.

“Of course,” he says, voice breathless as he tries to remember how to speak. “That was amazing.” He smiles wide, feels a droplet of blood slip away from the corner of his lips as he does. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong, I feel…” The faintest hint of emotions still lingers. “…happy.”

You both sit quietly for a moment, air thick with tension and a hint of copper. Your scent is even stronger now and Astarion thinks he could track you from miles away if need be.

“I look forward to seeing you fight.”

Right, the whole reason you did this. To help him be stronger, useful. It’s those thoughts that ground him once more, snap his head out of the clouds and onto the hard forest floor.

Astarion stands while you remain right where you are, watching every move he makes. He wonders if you are waiting for him to pounce, waiting for the monster he assured you does not exist. When he speaks again, it’s the light, easy tone he’s perfected, like sliding the mask back into place.

“Shouldn’t take long so many people need killing,” he says, flippantly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating but I need something more filling.”

Nothing will escape him now. He swears he can take down a bear should he be lucky enough to find one.

He turns to leave, yet something stops him from taking the next step. When he glances at you over his shoulder, for a moment, the mask slips and he allows you to see the genuine gratitude he feels.

“This is a gift, you know,” he tells you. “I won't forget it.”

Not staying for a response, he turns away and stalks toward the darkness of the waiting forest. When he’s sure you can’t see him, he swipes that drop off his chin with his thumb, sucking it into his mouth to enjoy the final taste of your essence.

He is content for this to be a one-time thing, a special circumstance he is lucky enough to experience. And though he already longs for more, he enjoys the heat while he can, letting it carry him through the night as he hunts his next prey.

So imagine his surprise when you approach his tent only two days later, wounds barely visible under your collar. Astarion is readying his weapons, preparing for yet another trek through the wilds.

You’re in your vestiges, your arms free say for the thin bracers protecting your wrists. Your stance is sure and confident, eyes alight with something he hasn’t seen in them yet.

“We’re ready to head out,” you say. “Got everything?”

“Prepared and ready for the inevitable descent into violence.”

“How are you feeling?”

For anyone else the question wouldn’t be so loaded. He gathers you’re probably wondering if he’s going to try to steal another bite at some point.

“Fit as a fiddle. Your donation was much appreciated and helpful,” he says, sliding his daggers into their scabbards. “The effects are mostly worn off but such is life. I’m not weak if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not. But, if you need to, you can feed on me tonight.”

Astarion can barely contain himself, thrilled at the prospect of another surge of power, and that his seduction skills are working, though not entirely as he expected. Still, it’s an opportunity he will not squander.

“My sweet, there’s nothing I’d like more,” he purrs, stepping in close. He catches the darkening of your cheeks and lets himself smile in triumph. “I’ll come to you tonight, when you’re snuggly wrapped in your bedroll and we can have a little privacy. And this time,” he drops his voice for added effect, “I’ll make sure I’m quiet. We don’t want to disturb your rest.”

It's not lost on him that the night after his first taste you took to sleeping in a tent rather than under the stars. The added privacy had him wondering about its purpose.

Now he knows.

Taking another step closer, he drops his voice even lower, keeping the moment between you two. “Later on, when we are at rest, I will eat you right up,” he promises. “Just enough to give me strength and just enough to leave you wishing for more.”

Your breath catches in your throat and he knows right then that he has you. Even as you smirk and roll your eyes, his pleased smile never falters.

“Great line,” you say, walking backward towards Karlach and Shadowheart, who are waiting for the two of you. “Has that ever worked for you?”

“Numerous times. And trust me, you haven’t heard half my lines.”

“Is that what you do in front of the mirror now that you can’t fawn over yourself?”

“Hurtful!” he gasps in mock outrage. “Also, need I remind you, you came to me just now.”

“And you came to me the other night.”

“Fair point,” he begrudgingly admits, slinging his bow onto his back. “Although, I did ask for just a taste. If you’re wanting another nibble, that says more about you than it does about me. I’m a vampire spawn. What’s your excuse?”

By you’ve turned your back on him and though he can’t see your face, the middle finger you aim his way lets him know he’s won the argument.

The anticipation of his next feeding carries him through the day.

It’s ever-present in the back of his mind, fueling his hunger and drive. He fights harder because he knows that come nightfall, he won’t have to hunt for his meal. You’ll be there in your bedroll, ready and willing.

Astarion can’t suppress the shudder of longing every time he thinks about it.

Waiting never felt so long.

You’re moving closer to the goblin camp with every step, picking off stragglers as you find them. Shadowheart asks the corpses for information and you’re able to narrow down the location of the druid right down to which building he's in.

When you make camp, you’re only half a day’s travel to your destination. Everyone is exhausted and moody, with little talk this time over the campfire. It doesn’t bother Astarion, who felt you all were becoming far too chummy for his liking.

He waits and watches from his tent, taking note as one by one, the others peel off to their respective spaces. You’re one of the last, your eyes straying across the camp in his direction, meeting the gaze that has been transfixed on you the entire time.

As if to tease, your scent finds your way to him on the wind, making his head spin. He gives you a wink and a smirk. You smile back and quirk an eyebrow before disappearing into your tent like the others.

Astarion bides his time, waits until everyone stops rustling and the collective silence of sleep washes over the camp.

Wyll is on watch tonight, though his back is to your tent. Astarion keeps to the shadows and easily dodges him, making no sound as he slips past.

You’re fast asleep, buried in your bedroll with a blanket loosely draped over you.

Astarion feels that familiar tug low in his belly, lets his feet guide him closer. He doesn’t need the fire to see you there, peaceful, almost angelic. You changed into a looser tunic which has slid down to reveal a shoulder.

And the faded markings he left on your throat the other night.

Astarion kneels and then crawls up behind you, slow and careful. He said he wouldn’t disturb your rest and he meant it. No need to wake you when you’ve given your consent.

Besides, as sneaky as he is, Astarion wonders if you’re that light of a sleeper, considering how easily you awoke the last time. He lays behind you, gently peeling the blanket away. Your tunic slips lower when he does and at this angle, he catches just the faintest glimpse of the top of a breast.

It makes him pause, give an appreciative glance, before your neck beckons him.

The hunger urges him forward, begging, pleading with him to drink. You’re so close and warm and vulnerable. He does his best to lean over without touching you, but you automatically tense in your sleep when you feel the coolness of his body draw near.

Leaning down, he lets his lips brush your ear as he whispers, “It’s just me, darling. Go back to sleep.”

You hum and relax once more, dropping your shoulder in the process. The angle is too good and he is too famished to wait any longer.

Astarion bites down, his fangs lining up exactly where they pierced before. His mouth fits against your throat like it was made for him.

A perfect fit.

There’s no need to rush and he is able to savor the experience. This time, a sense of calm washes over him, making his eyes droop closed as the now-familiar yet no less exquisite rush of your blood fills his mouth. Deep down there’s a sense of injustice for being denied this experience for so long.

However, he wonders if it would have been the same without the anticipation and thrill of the chase. Without you in the equation. After all, you’re a powerful person, unyielding in your convictions.

Yet, here you are, offering your blood to him. Giving him power.

He keeps his fangs buried for a moment longer, holds himself there until his mouth is brimming with the taste of you.

Only then does he retract them, sucking softly on the reopened wound to drink his fill. You’re fast asleep, which means that he has to stop himself this time. You’re not aware enough to do it for him.

When he wanted to earn your trust, he did not think you would give it to him so freely. What else will you give him? What else can he get away with? Questions for another night.

Thankfully, he can force himself to stop once that welcoming heat spreads through every part of him.

Every part.

Fucking Hells he is hard as a rock.

It catches Astarion by surprise and he immediately draws away. He finds himself panting, his lips still coated in red as he glances down at himself.

Is it the act of drinking blood or the blood itself? Feeding on animals certainly never drew this reaction.

His head is spinning from bloodlust and arousal, and he feels the need to leave your tent as soon as possible. You signed up to be his meal, not to get him off.

Not yet anyway. Shame, if you were awake he could make his move. He briefly considers rousing you with honeyed words and lustful promises but he decides against it in the end.

Maybe next time.

As he cleans up the mess he’s left on your throat, licking away the remaining drops of blood, he can’t help palming himself at the same time. He’s barely able to contain a hiss at the sensitivity.

Fuck, if this is just from feeding on you, what’s going to happen when he gets to have you another way?

Astarion reluctantly withdraws, readjusting your tunic before draping your blanket back in place. Your breathing never hitches and remains steady, even when he slips out into the night.

With fresh blood pumping through his veins, his body is strong and alive. He feels so fucking alive. He barely takes a few steps before the hardness in his trousers proves too distracting, forcing him to rest against a tree.

If he turns his head, he can still see your tent through the bushes and trees. It surprises him that he wants to go back. Then again, you are the most interesting prospect around and a part of you is within him now.

Soon, a part of him will be in you, he promises himself.

Astarion unties the laces of his trousers and pulls his cock out, finally allowing the hiss he held back earlier. It throbs persistently, begging for him to do something, anything for release. He gives himself an experimental squeeze, wondering if he has the mind for this right now. But it’s too good and he’s too worked up to deny himself.

His eyes never leave your tent as he strokes his cock. Slow at first, but that quickly proves not enough and he speeds up.

Astarion has had too many lovers to count but it has been some time since he’s had to take matters into his own hands. And yes, he plans on seducing you and may even find you attractive, but this is not in the plan.

It certainly didn’t happen the other night.

Moving purely on urges, Astarion lets his head fall back against the tree trunk, and his eyes close, picturing himself back in your tent.  

If only you’d been awake, he could have pressed against you, let you feel the length of him as he drank his fill.

Would you grind back? Would you gasp? He’s more than sure that he can get you to do both. When he finally gets you where he wants you, when he finally has you writhing and moaning his name, he's not going to let you cum until you beg for it, beg for him to fill you as he drinks from that delicious throat.

With a strangled moan, he cums onto the forest floor, his knees buckling under the sudden onslaught of sensation.

Putting his full weight against the tree for support, he takes a moment to catch his breath mind, and senses hyper-aware of every rustle of leaves and gust of wind. With his lust now stated, there is an overwhelming sense of fear and guilt.

What the Hells is with all this wanting and desire? He is not allowed to want. Seducing you isn’t about desire. Neither of those emotions should be there and yet they are.

Let’s just push those way back where they belong, he thinks as he tucks himself back into his trousers.

His head is clearer now, his focus as sharp as it was the previous night. Brushing the incident off, Astarion switches into hunting mode, his grin wide enough to verge on the side of madness as he bolts into the forest, with nothing but the thought of his next kill.

Your offer of blood becomes a regular occurrence.

Not every day but often enough for Astarion to notice a significant change in himself, his power. He is faster and stronger than he has ever been. There is still the situation of becoming immensely horny when he does feed on you, but he looks on the bright side and accepts it as an unexpected bonus.

On days when your party runs into a fight, he finds himself drained but not enough to impede his hunting.

A fact he brags about one night when he stumbles back to camp, brimming with excitement and pride.

“Guess what I just did!” he exclaims, plopping beside you on the ground by the fire that seems to have your attention.

It’s your night to keep watch which means he is out of luck for his midnight snack, as he’s taken to calling you. Much to your chagrin.

You chuckle and motion towards his mouth. “Judging by the blood I’m assuming you caught a nice dinner,” you say.

Astarion impatiently wipes it away. “Not just dinner, a bear! A whole bear!”

“Gods, you drank a whole bear?”

He nods proudly, grin wide and sloppy. “Now, it wasn’t as good a vintage as Drow,” he concedes with a wink your way. “But that’s not the point. The point is, I was able to kill it all by my lonesome and nary a curl out of place.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Kind of,” he slurs.

In truth, he is euphoric, untouchable. Between proper feedings and the tadpole, Astarion feels he is the strongest vampire spawn there may have ever been. Tonight, like the first night he bit you, there is no Cazador, mind flayer, or other threat. There’s only him and the blood of the black bear that he’s taken for himself.

And you, of course.

You smile in amusement, turning your attention to the fire.

Astarion leans back on his elbows, his body wonderfully loose and relaxed for the first time in decades. He takes the time to study your profile, his delirious mind focusing for the moment. He is acutely aware that it is only the two of you, a rarity considering the size of the camp.

Between the adrenaline of the hunt and the opportunity that comes with privacy, Astarion shifts closer, not enough to touch but enough for you to know he’s done so.

“You know, darling,” he drawls. “I don’t think I’ve told you how devastatingly beautiful you look by firelight.”

You don’t respond and at first, he wonders if you heard him. When it becomes apparent you haven’t, he clears his throat and tries again.

“The way the flames reflect in your eyes is hypnotizing,” he continues. “I can get lost in them, have been lost in them ever since we met.”

Still nothing. Astarion feels you’re miles away, which his pride will not stand for, not when he feels as good as he does and is throwing you all the signals.

He sits up and waves a hand in front of your face. “Helllooo? Devilishly handsome roguish vampire here giving you compliments. The least you can do is acknowledge me.”

You blink and tear your eyes away from the flames, giving him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to ignore you. I’m not very good company tonight, I’m afraid.”

Astarion shrugs and sits up, interest piqued. “That’s alright, darling. We don’t need to talk. There are plenty of other ways we can enjoy each other’s company.”

You roll your eyes as you look back at the fire with that amused smile you seem to reserve only for him. “Hey, if I could turn my brain off for the night, I’d take you up on that,” you admit.

Finally feeling like he’s getting somewhere, Astarion leans in closer. “You’re in luck because I happen to be a delectable distraction. All you have to do is say the word.” He pauses before adding. “I’m talking about sex of course. We should have sex.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of what you meant.”

Astarion grins, reaching out to walk his fingers up your forearm, playfully tugging at the sleeve of your tunic. “So what are we waiting for?” he purrs. “A midnight snack is all well and good, but I wouldn’t mind sampling what else you have to offer.”

As full as he is, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in another nibble. There’s something special about your blood, enticing. When he’s this close to you it becomes all he can think about and he has to stop himself from nuzzling your throat. At least until he knows he has you.

“I want to,” you tell him, finally meeting his gaze. “I really really want to.”

“Then what’s the problem? I am ready, willing, and certainly able.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not.”

Astarion frowns, confused. This has always worked before, there’s no reason for it not to work now. He doesn’t get it. You’re clearly attracted to him and he’s doing everything but presenting himself on a silver platter. By now you should be throwing yourself at his feet.

And there’s no way he’s lost his touch because that would be like saying the sky is no longer blue.

You take a deep breath and when you start to speak again, it comes out in a rush, like you’ve been holding the words in for far too long and can’t any longer.

“There is so much at stake and so many people are depending on us, on me. It’s all I think about. I can’t focus on anything else. For days it’s been one crisis after another. On top of that, everyone keeps saying that we need to get rid of the tadpoles and that we should have turned already. We rescued Halsin but he can’t do what we hoped he would and I’m just…”

You let out a noise of frustration and Astarion is back to grinning because this he can work with. This he understands.

“Aren’t monks taught to still their minds?” he teases.

“I didn’t become a monk to still my mind. I became a monk because I like punching things. It’s honestly my favorite thing to do.” You take a deep breath before falling onto your back to stare up at the stars. “But now everyone keeps looking to me for answers and I just don’t have them. Nor do I want to be the one to figure all this shit out.”

Perfect, a new angle.

Astarion leans over you, forcing you to look him in the eye. “It’s just as I feared. You need me more than I thought.” He bends his head, delighted when you instinctively present your neck. He places the gentlest of kisses to bite mark, nuzzling into your soft skin like he’s been wanting to do since he sat down. “If you need your mind on something else, let it be me. Let me touch you, taste you. Let me bring you to such unbearable peaks that you forget everything that isn’t my mouth, fingers, or cock.”

You moan softly, shuddering at the warmth of his breath. “I don’t know if you can.”

Astarion draws back, a wide smile showing off his sharp canines. “Trust me, darling, I can.” He slides a hand up to cradle your head just like he did the first night he bit you. But it’s kisses he lavishes your throat with, with the occasional scrape of his teeth.

A gentle hand on his shoulder has him pulling away.

“You seem pretty confident about that,” you say, eyes searching his.

“Because it’s true.”

He knows what you’re searching for and does everything he can to make sure his gaze speaks for him. Lust and desire, mixed with a touch of hopefulness. Disarming and endearing, exactly who he needs to be for you.

“Here is what we’re going to do,” he continues, putting all his weight on one hand so he can use the other to take yours. “Tomorrow night, once everyone is asleep, I’ll slip into your tent, and I will make it so that pretty little head of yours can focus on something else. Something much more pleasurable.”

He punctuates each word with a kiss, first to your fingers, then your bruised knuckles, and finally to your inner wrist where he can feel your pulse racing. The sound of your rushing blood makes his own body thrum with desire. His hunger returns, but not enough to distract him.

But enough to make him twitch with anticipation.

At this angle, he knows you can feel it when his cock hardens. Your eyes widen and you bite your lip to stifle another moan when he teasingly grinds down against you.

“I…” You try to speak but need to take a second to catch your breath. “I would like that very much.”

“Good.”

Astarion leans down and captures your lips in a harsh kiss. It’s meant to be quick, a tease, a way to continue the seduction and leave you wanting more but it immediately becomes something else. You match his energy perfectly, your tongue slipping past his to explore. He isn’t expecting such a hungry response after the way you seemed so controlled, fully expecting it to take time for him to get you to this level.

Apparently, you’re closer to the edge than he thought. But it’s more than that. Kissing you makes him feel…something. He just doesn’t know what in the Hells that is. It makes it difficult to pull away, to stop, and make you wait.

So he indulges, deepens the kiss by leisurely licking the inside of your mouth once you actually let him. It’s good, really good. Enough to lose himself for the moment, to cup your cheek and hold you close.

His head is spinning and in his excitement, one of his fangs nicks your bottom lip.

A drop of your blood is enough to snap him out of it. Because if he doesn’t, he’s going to ruin everything. He’ll either fuck or drain you and right now he’s not sure which.

Astarion abruptly breaks the kiss, not before his tongue at your lip to steal another drop. “Until tomorrow night,” he promises.

He leaves you there, dazed and staring after him as he casually strolls back to his tent. Leaving you wanting more, just like he planned.

And definitely not because of any other reason.

Needless to say, trancing doesn’t come easy that night. Every time he closes his eyes, all he envisions is you in the firelight, looking up at him like he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Granted, he knows he is, but that’s beside the point.

If he’s honest with himself, there may be a small, tiny part of him that feels bad for deceiving you this way. Granted, he is attracted to you and the idea of having sex sounds incredibly appealing.

So what if there is another motive? You both will come out on top in the end, metaphorically speaking. Although, the mental image of you riding him is quite good. Body rocking, breasts bouncing, wet heat enveloping his lap…

Astarion needs a distraction himself at this rate.

The next day he maintains his distance for both your sakes. For one thing, he knows being apart from your object of desire only makes the chase that more thrilling. And for another, he is dealing with a storm of emotions he is not prepared for nor interested in.

On occasion when he can’t help but slide his gaze your way, you seem thoroughly focused every time. He doesn’t catch you looking longingly his way, not even once, and finds it frankly insulting. How can you be so engrossed in what you’re doing even though you know he will be in your bed later?

Unacceptable.

When you both find yourselves set upon by cultists, Astarion is relieved. He needs a good bloodbath to pull his shit together.

His daggers get quite the workout, slicing enemies left and right.

Lost in the thrill of the kill, he forgets about the weird feelings and the way his seduction of you seems to be more complicated than he thought it would be. He forgets about his hesitations or questions.

Nothing is weird and nothing is wrong.

A familiar scent breaks through the gore that stops him in his tracks. Your scent. Your blood.

You’re bleeding.

Like a hound, his head whips in your direction. He sees you across the battlefield, knocking a man to the ground. But one hand is pressed to your side, bright red visible even at this distance.

Shit, you’re further from him than he realizes and he has to scramble over a few boulders to be able to close the distance. His sharp eyes catch movement in the trees, and before he even has a chance to grab his bow, the hidden archer takes aim.

Everything happens so fast.

The arrow fires, Astarion eyes land on you, knows you don’t see it and as he raises his hand towards you, has your name on his lips—

Your hand snaps up, catching the arrow an inch before it hits your temple. With a glare, you look up at the archer, swing around, and throw the arrow right back at him.

Astarion watches the archer fall from the branches, landing in a heap on the ground.

Dead.

You grin in Astarion’s direction, face smattered with blood and he wants nothing more than to fuck you on top of that corpse. But then you stumble and concern takes over. If you fall in battle then he’s shit out of luck and he can’t let that happen.

“Whoa now, none of that!” he scolds, rushing to your side to catch you. “Where the Hells is that cleric when we need her?”

“Did you see me catch that arrow?” you slur, grinning. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Yes, yes, it was very hot, now hold still, you’re bleeding everywhere.”

“Even better, gives you a free meal.”

It’s Astarion’s turn to roll his eyes as he helps you lean against a tree for support. “I prefer the more intimate approach we’ve established.”

Once he’s sure you’re not going to collapse, he digs through his pack for a healing potion.

“Shame to let all this blood go to waste but to each his own,” you say.

He uncorks the potion with his teeth and holds the bottle up for you to drink. It’s not until it’s empty that he allows himself to calm down. You slowly remove your hand and the two of you watch the wound start to close. Not all the way, you’ll need Shadowheart for that, but enough to stop the bleeding.

Astarion spits the cork aside and throws the empty bottle. “There, almost good as new. Maybe don’t get stabbed again.”

“There go the rest of my plans for the day.”

“Lunatic.”

Something comes over him, making him grab the back of your head and yank you into a kiss, too wrapped up in his bullshit to overthink or consider his actions. With one arm around his waist, you kiss him back and it’s sloppy and messy and everything he needs it to be.

Nothing happened. You didn’t die and you’re still able to be seduced. Good.

When you draw back, gasping for breath, he grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly sucks your fingers into his mouth, one by one, swirling his tongue around the digits to gather every drop of blood he can. You’re right. It seems silly to let it go to waste.

Your pupils dilate, your breath coming through your lips in a rush as you watch, transfixed.

He doesn’t need the tadpole to know what you’re thinking, or imagining. It’s a precursor to what he plans to do to you later. But with your thighs squeezing his head as he brings you over the edge.

Astarion releases your finger with a pop and a smirk. You lean in to steal another kiss when you’re stopped by the heavy thud of Karlach’s footsteps. You just manage to pull back when she bursts through the foliage.

“You guys alright?” she asks, also splattered with blood. “We just got jumped by some assholes.”

Astarion gestures to the bodies littered at your feet. “Welcome to the fucking club.”

“Where’s Shadowheart?” you ask.

“Right here,” Shadowheart speaks up, approaching from a different direction. “One tried to run away but I took care of it. Shit, are you bleeding?”

“Not anymore, thanks to me,” Astarion says.

When you wince and stumble towards her, Shadowheart catches you. Her hand glows with radiant light as she casts a healing spell.

“Easy there, soldier!” Karlach says. “You stay put. We’ll deal with these.” She gestures to the bodies, where Astarion is already digging through the pockets.

He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to let good gold go to waste, and definitely not because you two were interrupted. Not because being close and alone with you makes his head spin. Not because he doesn’t know why he kissed you like that. And certainly not because the brief taste of blood is threatening to send him into a frenzy.

By the time the bodies are searched, Shadowheart is done with her healing and you’re able to stand up straight.

“Let’s get back and tell the others,” you say. “With these guys gone, we should be good to keep our camp for one more night. But tomorrow we have to move on.”

Astarion is starting to feel peckish and welcomes the chance to be alone. “I’ll do a little scouting to check for stragglers,” he offers, tossing you the heavy bag of coin he collected. “You know, make sure there isn’t anything lurking before dark.”

“You sure? You really shouldn’t go alone,” you say.

He’s already headed in the opposite direction and turns to face you as he walks backward. “If they hear me, they deserve to catch me. You don’t need to worry, darling. I won’t be late for our date.”

Your cheeks darken and he watches Karlach break into a wide grin while Shadowheart raises her eyebrows. He’s already gone by the time they bombard you with questions.

That moment you two just shared plays over and over in his head. With the taste of your blood still on his tongue, he gives into baser instincts.

Tonight, he will fuck you, and you’ll be so enthralled by his talents, he’ll have you eating out of his hand in no time.

Astarion’s mission turns up no more cultists. And after a brief tussle with a boar, he’s recharged and ready to seduce the pants off you.

Literally.

Night has already begun to fall when he returns to camp. At first, he doesn’t see you anywhere, but then you emerge from the brush, in a clean tunic and trousers with your freshly washed clothes under your arm.

He sneaks up behind you as you lay them out on a nearby patch of grass to dry.

“If you waited we could have had a little dip together,” he purrs, only half teasing because bathing naked with you sounds enticing right now.

“That wasn’t funny,” you glare over your shoulder, although he doesn’t sense or see any real malice on your face. “They gave me shit the whole way back.”

“I’m fairly certain they knew something has been going on. You haven’t exactly been hiding the mark.”

You tug on your collar in a vain attempt to do just that. “Still.” You turn to face him and cross your arms, a neutral stance that conveniently highlights the muscles in your arms. Not that he notices.

“Darling,” he gasps, “are you ashamed of me?”

“Of course not. I just don’t like people knowing my shit.”

Astarion glances around and can see multiple pairs of eyes on you both. So rather than close the distance, he settles for eye-fucking you instead.

“Tonight, all you need to worry about is relaxing and letting me take care of you. Thoroughly. Properly. Until the only thought in that pretty little head of yours is my name.”

Even from this distance, he hears the rush of your blood and it makes him grin wider. You shake said pretty head at him, turning away under the pretense of fixing your clothes.

“So long as you bathe beforehand. Blood may be your thing, but it’s not mine.”

“Not yet, anyway.”

He’s got you flustered and can’t help laughing as you shoo him away. After a brief stop at his tent for fresh clothes and soap, he finds a secluded spot by the nearby lake and takes time to pamper himself.

This part of the seduction ritual he likes, finds comfort in. Washing away the grime and viscera from his skin and taking the time to wash his hair puts him in the proper mindset. While he can no longer see his reflection, you can and that’s all that matters. He knows his looks are unparalleled.

So he primps and preens, cleans himself thoroughly before stepping out to dry off. The full moon casts the world in an otherworldly glow and he stands for a spell, taking in the night. Less than a week ago he was scrambling for rats in the dark, trying to sate the ever gnawing hunger. Now he can stand in the sun, sample the delicious blood of a thinking creature.

What a difference a few days makes.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep inhale to steady himself, to focus. And by the time he exhales, his eyes are open and he’s ready.

Camp is still very much buzzing with activity when he returns, bare-chested with loose trousers. Your scent wafts his way, making him subconsciously turn in your direction. His eyes meet yours over the fire, and he throws you a wink. You smile and duck your head, something he never found endearing until that moment.

Just like all the other nights, he waits for the activity to die down, waits until almost everyone is asleep, before sneaking into your tent.

Except, this time you’re awake. Your back is to him as you sit, still and silent. At first, he wonders what you’re doing, until he recognizes the steady breathing that comes with your meditations.

Silently, he ties the tent closed before kneeling behind you. He sees your pointed ear twitch, knows you’re aware of his presence.

Astarion lays his hands on your shoulders and leans down to nuzzle your temple. Your body is tense. He can feel the knots even through your tunic. Carefully, he digs his thumbs into them, rubbing in circles which forces a soft moan out of you.

“You are far too tense, darling. I don’t think the meditations are working,” he says with a low chuckle, smirking at the way the skin of your neck raises with goosebumps.

You lean back against his chest, making it harder to keep massaging you. So he slides his hands down your arms to hold you instead.

Astarion isn’t one for hugging or cuddling, but this feels nice, having your weight on him like this. It only lasts a second. You lean forward once more, this time with your face in your hands. He lays a hand on your back, recognizing that you need a minute, and more than happy to give you such.

He feels slightly out of his element. Normally when he arrives for the seduction, it’s hasty and eager, with the mark throwing themselves at him. You aren’t doing that, you haven’t even turned around to face him.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you tell him, your voice muffled. “If you’re looking for something carefree and light, I’m sure you can find someone with less baggage.”

Astarion can’t help bursting into laughter. He pulls your arms down and leans around to look you in the eye. “Have we been traveling with the same companions?” he asks. “If you can find this mythical baggage-less person then I salute you because from where I’m sitting, we’re all a bunch of fucking weirdos.”

That breaks the tension in you. Laughing, you lean into him again and he savors the closeness, recognizing that it stirs that same unknown sensation within him. He kisses your neck not only to move things along but for another reason.

Yours is the first thinking-creature’s neck he’s ever sampled and the novelty is fairly potent. He’s left his mark on you, not once but several times. It’s enough to drive him to distraction. The scent of your skin causes his body to react, his mouth already salivating while his cock twitches with interest.

Astarion finds you relaxing while the time slips away, and it isn’t long before his hands are reaching for the laces of your tunic. He unties them with deliberate slowness, giving you every chance to stop him.

You don’t.

In fact, your hands join his to help, and when they are finally undone, you draw away to lift the tunic over your head.

Now you’re both shirtless and when your warm skin touches his it’s like a pleasant balm to his cold flesh. He continues lavishing your throat while his hands cup your breasts, thrilled at the way your nipples pebble under his thumbs. He kneads and tweaks, pinching until just on the edge of pain before backing off.

“Astarion?” you ask, voice already breathless and husky with desire.

“Mmm, yes?”

“If we do this, I only have one request.”

He’s not surprised at this, even anticipated as such. There’s always a request or demand of him and he will dutifully oblige. Anything to keep this going, to seal the deal.

“And what’s that, darling?”

“Stay with me after? At least, just for the night.”

That…is it?

Astarion draws away, prompting you to turn to face him. Your eyes are hooded, lips wet from being swiped by your tongue. But there is a vulnerability he has never seen before that has him answering immediately.

“I will stay,” he promises, and means it. “For tonight, I am yours and you are mine. Nothing else outside this tent exists. It’s just us.” He gently cradles your face. “Just this.”

You lean in and he captures your lips.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, meant to reassure you that your humble request will be fulfilled. But as it continues, it switches, changes into something else entirely. One of his hands drops to your trousers, yanking at the laces with the same fevered energy that’s taken over your mouths. He is suddenly filled with the urge to touch, to make you shudder and moan not for his sake, but for yours.

Astarion sees in his mind’s eye every choice, every decision you have had to make. Always for others and never for yourself. Hells, do you do anything for your own well-being?

He hasn’t seen it. And if this night with him is it, if being with him is how you want to indulge, he’s going to make damn sure he makes it worth it.

When his hand slips below your waistline, his fingers slide through the mound of curls to the petal-soft flesh waiting for him. Feeling the wetness on his fingertips makes his eyebrow raise as he breaks from your kisses.

“Already, darling? I’m flattered.”

You huff, flustered. “It’s my neck,” you mumble, prompting him to latch his mouth there once more. “It’s really sensitive.”

You gasp when his fingertips stroke through your folds, spreading your arousal with practiced ease.

Astarion has a realization. “All these nights, when you knew I was going to be paying you a visit,” he says. “Did you by any chance feel aroused?”

“Every fucking time.”

He slides a finger into you, relishing the low moan and how eagerly your body pulls him in. That explains the intense hard-ons and need to get off immediately after feeding on you. He was unknowingly drinking your arousal, which he plans to do in a very different context tonight.

You’re warm and wet, and the sound of your rushing blood is making it so difficult not to seek his—your marks. The ones he feeds from every time, the ones that never seem to fully fade even with healing magic.

Sliding his finger out, he presses firm circles around your neglected nub while his free hand reaches for your breasts again. Your chest heaves and your hips begin to rise and fall along with his ministrations. When he pushes two fingers into you, your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Astarion!” you gasp.

“That’s it, darling. Let go of everything else. Just think about me.”

In this intimate moment, he becomes acutely aware of two things: one, his name has never sounded sweeter, and two, this is going to be different for him.

Astarion doesn’t find himself slipping away like he’s done in the past. Prior, his body would go on following the script while his brain retreated elsewhere. It was a part he knew all too well and had perfected over the centuries. A moment of disgust at himself then powering through just to get it done.

Yet, it’s not happening. Tonight, he is very aware of where he is and who he is with. Somehow having you be the one to moan his name is keeping him grounded, in the moment.

And he doesn’t want to lose that.

His fingers speed up, alternating between rubbing your nub and burrowing deep into that addictive warmth he wants around his cock. You’re gasping and moaning, seemingly uncaring if anyone hears.

Let them hear, he thinks. Let them know I’m the one making our fearless leader cum.

Suddenly, this angle isn’t right. It won’t serve his needs.

Because now that he’s aware of them, aware that he needs your body, needs your little gasps and moans, he won’t stop until you’re both in a breathless, mindless heap of body and limbs.

Astarion tries to draw his hand out of your trousers but you scramble to keep it there, until he nips at your ear and says, “Shh, shh, it’s alright. We just need to get a little comfortable.” Only then do you let him pull away.

He maneuvers you onto your back and is able to fully take in the delicious image you make. Eyes glassy with desire, lips parted, breasts moving as you try to catch your breath. Without warning, he grabs your throat, not hard. Just enough to angle your head up so he can steal a few more kisses.

Then his attention falls to your trousers and he has them off your legs a second later. You’re not wearing underwear, never bothered to put them on after your bath. Hooking his hands under your knees, he spreads you wide, takes his first look at all of you, and promptly descends.

Astarion doesn’t try to put on a show or warm you up with a few practiced licks. You are more than ready for him and he finds himself starved in a completely different way.

A welcomed way.

His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks greedily, humming with satisfaction when your thighs clamp around his head. It keeps him exactly where you want him, not that he plans to leave any time soon.

This taste of you is so different from your blood yet equally addicting. Heady and sweet, invading his senses until nothing else exists but you. His tongue snakes long your seam, parts your swollen lips, and seeks the hole he teased earlier.

When he finds it, your hips shoot up and he tongue-fucks you, eyes drifting up to meet yours as he does.

You’re propped on your elbows, watching his every move. The vision you make is breathtaking and as he watches your head fall back and your arms buckle, he smirks because he is the one making you feel this way.

Astarion slides a finger into you, this time deeper than the other angle allowed. Your thighs are already quivering and the moment he crooks his finger in just the right way, your arms finally give out and you lay flat on your back.

Hands tentatively find their way into his curls but instead of pulling like he anticipates, they stroke and burrow, holding on for the sake of staying grounded, not for control.

A second finger joins the first and his mouth returns to your aching nub, sucking as greedily as he wants. You’re shaking and moaning, your hips starting to grind against his face the longer he goes on. With the tadpole, he can sense you’re still holding back, still not entirely lost yet. He tries to get you there, increases the pressure of his mouth, and rubs harder against the special place inside you he’s found.

With every twitch, he feels you let go a little more. And when you’re almost there, he switches tactics. For the second time, he reaches for your mind, tries to show you images. This time of yourself, of what he is seeing right then and there.

A beautiful, wanton, deity of a person whom he worships. At least for right now, in this moment. One whose legs fit perfectly over his shoulders and whose shining eyes have him transfixed.

But then what happens next fundamentally changes Astarion and turns his world upside down.

Because, now he isn’t seeing you. He is watching a pale elf with glowing red eyes whose mouth is devouring your slit. Whose cheeks are ruddy with fresh boar’s blood and whose white curls are wrapped around dark fingers.

Astarion is seeing himself for the first time in two hundred years.

And bloody hell he’s magnificent. Not just because he’s beautiful but because he can feel what you’re feeling when you look at him. He can sense the warmth, affection, lust, and fierce protection you’re experiencing here and now, with him.

He’s already achieved his goal. Now he can move on to more important things.

He draws an orgasm out of you only minutes later, not needing you to beg. Not when you’ve given him yet another precious gift.

What a breathtaking sight the two of you make. You, bowing your back into a beautiful arch, and him, sucking greedily at your clit while his fingers stroke deep inside you.

Astarion comes up for air only when your sweaty legs glide off his shoulders, leaving you spread and satisfied.

“How’s that mind of yours now?” he asks, licking your slick off his lips.

It takes a moment for you to answer. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding,” you gasp, a hand pressed to your forehead as you try to collect yourself.

Astarion smirks and pushes himself up onto his knees, carefully slipping his fingers out of you. He can feel your walls clench, automatically trying to keep him there. He’s tempted but has a better idea.

“I told you, I’m quite good.”

While you lay there, watching, waiting, he makes a show of unlacing his trousers. By now his cock is desperate for attention, straining against the fabric. Each move he makes is purposeful, each look calculated, letting you know exactly what he plans to do next.

He thinks of the previous nights when he crawled into your tent and slid up behind you. And once his trousers are gone and his cock is free, full and leaking at the tip, he nods his head.

“Turn on your side, darling.”

He strokes himself while you do, using your arousal to make the glide of his hand easier, better. He lets every lustful thought invade his senses, lets his eyes shamelessly rake over your body as he realizes this is a fantasy he will get to live out.

Astarion knows this night is about you, should be about you, but he can’t help but feel that it’s now also about him. About having something, even if it’s for a night, that gets to be his.

He spoons up behind you, tucking his cock snug under your backside. His hand comes around and slides between your legs once more, picking up right where he left off. You gasp at the sensitivity, your body tensing for only a second until you manage to relax again.

This time with the added bonus of you rocking against him.

Time loses all meaning. He can not be certain how long you both lay this way, grinding and moving together while his fingers make you cum for a second time. It takes longer but absolutely worth every moment. His mouth is permanently attached to your throat lavishing it in kisses and love bites, leaving even more marks. Not as deep as the mark. He'll only drink from you once he’s good and ready.

And when neither of you can take it anymore, when the friction of your skin isn’t enough and you’re positively soaked, he whispers into your ear.

“Lift your leg.”

You do and he takes hold of himself, coats himself in your slick again, then pushes into you with a smooth, quick, thrust.

A perfect fit.

Being inside you, having his cock enveloped by that fucking heat is better than he would have ever thought. After that, he can’t take his time, won’t until he’s emptied every last drop into you.

Your moans are constant, muffled as you bury your face into your thin pillow, your hand twisting the bedroll, reminding him of how he twisted the soil when he had his first taste of you.

Taste.

Gods does he want to taste you again, drink you as he continues pounding into your eager body. As if struck by the same thought, you reach back to slide your hand into his curls.

“Bite me,” you urge. “I need you too. I can’t…”

He hears the rest of the thought in his head.

I can’t cum again if you don’t.

Astarion bites down on the mark, having half a mind to press down on your swollen nub at the same time. You cry out this time. Loudly. Properly. Not his name yet even more beautiful, a cry of pure ecstasy.

Your blood seeps into his mouth just as a fresh wave of your slick coats his cock, and he is done for.

Thrusting wildly, still rubbing your sore clit, Astarion spills himself into you, lost in a frenzy of blood and lust. He’s aware enough to yank out his fangs but after that, it's a blur as he sucks at your throat while his cock spasms and fills you with his seed.

It's too much and coats his lap and your thighs while trickles of blood dribble down your neck. He’s aware of you pushing his hand away from the overstimulation. So he grabs your hip for leverage during his final, weak thrusts. Spent, you both cry out a final time and then grow still.

Eventually, you roll onto your stomach while Astarion collapses onto your back, crushing you against the bedroll.

You don’t seem to mind in the slightest, letting him lazily lick away any remnants of blood. Only then do you hum with satisfaction stretching underneath him as much as the position will allow.

“Fuck, Astarion.”

“That you did, love. That. You. Did.” Each word is punctuated by a kiss or a nibble.

“You were right,” you purr, sounding infinitely more relaxed than he’s ever heard. “I needed that.”

He places a final kiss to the mark before rolling onto his back. “Mmm, me too.” He tucks his hand under his head, staring up at the canvas of the tent with a lazy, satisfied grin. Like a cat who’s just found a sunbeam.

You roll to face him, draping yourself across his chest in a graceless heap. Your face is glowing with post-coital bliss, eyes still shining as they take him in. You reach up to wipe away a spot of blood from the corner of his lips, which he sucks off your thumb.

Astarion is aware you both should clean up but he can’t bring it in himself to care. Your scent hangs around him, not just your blood but your arousal and release. When mixed with his own, it stirs something primal inside, a sense of claim he’s not sure he has a right to feel.

But he’s far too satisfied to question it.

“That was amazing,” you slur. Already your eyes are drooping and your breathing evens out.

Astarion draws you close, feels around for a blanket he manages to drape over you both. “You’re amazing,” he responds, and is surprised he means it.

Even he is ready to trance, the normal rush of adrenaline after feeding is gone, channeled into the thrusting of his hips during those last precious seconds before utter bliss.

For once, no thoughts or machinations enter his mind. Unless it’s your soft body atop his, he has no interest, lazily stroking your back until you fall asleep.

And as he lets his trance carry him away, he has one final thought, an observation his waking mind will remember vividly the next morning when he finds you in the same position, curled around each other even in sleep.

Having you in his arms seems to be another perfect fit.

---

Taglist: @frankie-mercury @miniminx

[rkvriki]

domestic moments with them

im back HA. ngl this has been on my drafts for longer than i would like to admit but anyways. enhas new tour how are we feeling :/ ugh. hope you enjoy this!!!!

make sure to leave feedback! my requests are closed and my talk box is always open so lets talk!

WARNINGS ! mentions of food? playful arguing in heeseungs; non-sexual bath in sunoo's, i think that all!

word count: 1.3k

LEE HEESEUNG ! – game nights

we all know heeseung loves gaming and obviously he would love it if you were keen on it as well and if you weren’t he would try to slowly introduce you to it. he would be all excited when he got a free day to spend with you. he hits you up with texts to tell you he’s coming over and before you know it he’s by your door with his hands full of your favourite snacks and sodas. you would set blankets and pillows up on the floor so you could both sit comfortably while playing. heeseung tried not to be competitive with you when you both started dating but after you were together for a while he would get all worked up with you. if you were playing 1v1 against each other he would do anything to win and if he lost he would be so pouty. if you were playing online he would be screaming orders at you making you scream back at him. in the end you both ended up cuddling while eating the rest of the snacks and would laugh at both of your previous behaviors. 

rest under the cut !

PARK JONGSEONG ! – cooking together

if i’m not wrong this is probably the second time i write about this and i will never shut up about it!  jay loves cooking and he loved cooking, especially for you even more. so when you join him in his favourite hobby he is so happy. he would cook the main course while you would bake some dessert for you two. both of you would be busy, most of the time in silence only exchanging a few words while easy-listening tunes played from his speaker in the background. while he let something cook he would sneakily come behind you and hug you, his arms circling your waist, making you turn your head around to leave a kiss on his lips. the kitchen would be filled with the comforting smell of food, making both of your stomachs grumble in hunger. after everything was done you would decorate the dining table with candles and your best cutlery, while jay would plate the food neatly. you two would have a candlelit dinner, talking and laughing with each other, something you both treasured so much since these moments were rare due to jay’s career.

SIM JAEYUN ! – breakfast in bed

jake isn’t really an early bird and it’s rare for him to wake up early but sometimes when he does, he’ll sneakily walk to the kitchen to prepare you some good breakfast or brunch. he’ll try his best to cook for you even though he’s not the best cook in the world. the only things being heard in the kitchen would be the sizzling of the pan and his silent curses when he burns himself. the smell of bacon and pancakes would fill your small kitchen. he would be pacing back and forth looking for all kinds of ingredients in your counters and drawers. jake would prepare you such fancy coffee adding all kinds of toppings and adding things to give the drink some extra flavour. he would put everything nicely on a tray and would carefully walk to the bedroom, trying to keep everything from falling. you were already awake when jake came in smiling fondly at you, seeing you rub the sleep of your eyes. you both would eat silently on the bed as the sun hit right on your window.

PARK SUNGHOON ! – dancing in the living room

this one is just me projecting my own fantasies. sunghoon would be on his day off and whats better than spending it with you whom he missed so much? you two would be in your living room, just talking about random topics, laughing with each other, but it was mostly you updating him on the latest gossips from work colleagues. you had ordered some snacks and they were all almost gone. you both started complaining about still being hungry so you grabbed your phone to order more. before putting your phone down you got up to turn your speaker on and connected it to your phone. soft jazzy tunes started sounding in the room, changing the room's atmosphere to a more romantic one. you turned to look at sunghoon and extended your hand to him, making him laugh at you but hold it nonetheless as he got you. you wrapped your arms around his neck and you both started swaying from side to side to the rhythm of the music. you laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he ran his hands up and down your back.

KIM SUNOO ! – bubble bath

self-care is a must for both you and sunoo. starting with skincare. you wouldn’t even need to buy any because, oh! did sunoo buy something for him? don’t worry, he got two of it so he could give you one. you would have a whole shelf full of products, almost full to the brim. every time sunoo and you had a sleepover you would always do full self-care, watching movies with face masks type of thing. but when you were both feeling a little extra you both would do everything to turn your bathroom in a full spa room. candles of all scents would be lit on each corner of the bathtub. bath bombs already spreading in the warm water along with flower petals you neatly scattered in there. you both put face masks on your faces before grabbing some fancy drink (wine) and getting in the water on opposite sidea. you both would sigh in unison, feeling your bodies relax under the warmth embracing both of you.

YANG JUNGWON ! – pottery at home

i can’t stop thinking about jungwon’s vlog. the first time he saw you after making some pottery he was so happy to tell you about it and you both agreed to try and do it at home one day. so one day jungwon came over to your house with a bag full of cheap kid’s paint and clay. you both put old sheets on the floor to avoid staining it and put an old kitchen towel on the table. after putting on some old clothes you both started playing around with the clay. soon enough your table was a mess full of brown water, stained from the clay. both of your faces dirty with dry clay from both of you rubbing it in each other’s faces. none of you had done a single useful thing out of it, multiple things in weird shapes were laid out on your table. every time any of you made something you would show it to the other laughing at the lack of skill put in the piece of art. even though jungwon tried to follow the rules he had when he went to do pottery professionally he gave it all and ended up just playing around with you.

 NISHIMURA RIKI ! – picnics at home

time alone with you is one of the most precious things for ni-ki. it’s so rare for him to have the smallest amount of time with you so he tries to make every minute of his day off with you enjoyable. but as we all know it’s complicated for you to have outdoor dates and you both have expressed your desire to go on a picnic together near the river, but it all stays wistful wishes that need to be postponed for a far future. so you and ni-ki stick with your at-home dates that you love more than anything. you both would take everything that was placed in the centre of your living room and you would decorate it with checkered picnic blankets and place vases and plants around just for the sake of it. you would even prepare a little basket with all the food you made for both of you. you two would enjoy it so much, both of your hearts filled with warmth as you enjoyed each other's company.

[moethewriter]

Could you do one for Finnick where no one knows they are together except close friends, we know katniss doesn’t like him much at first and the reader knows the rebellion plan and obviously Finnick so she doesn’t stop him from flirting with her and maybe(?) thinks it’s amusing because she knows why he’s doing it but it’s revealed in the arena they’re together and katniss is shocked

I hope you like it! I was excited to write it but I fear I made it far more angsty and less flirty than you would like! TITLE: A Lover's Cry WORD COUNT: 1.8k PAIRING: Finnick Odair x Reader WARNINGS: General hunger games violence, secret relationships, angst and multiple POV! (Katniss, Reader) TAGS: Let me know if I need to tag anything else! A/N: I actually really loved writing this one, and i hope you enjoy it despite only loosely basing it off your prompt! Thank you so much for the request and as always I take constructive critisicsm! Not beta read as usual! -

“So what’s with those two?” Katniss questioned, pointing towards the screen.

She had watched Haymitch flick through the tributes, giving her and Peeta the basics on everyone who was going into the arena. Two had caught her eyes immediately, Finnick Odair from District 4, and Y/N L/N from District 8. She knew their names, their faces but she didn’t know anything about their skills or who they were. But both seemed far too polished, posh and pretty standing in front of their respective crowds. It seemed like they were ready to head back in there, almost like they wanted too. 

Haymitch turned towards the television.

“Finnick Odair and Y/N L/N.” He stated, watching the scenes of people he knew, waving towards the crowd of people. Picture perfect smiles adorning their faces.“The Capitol Darlings, everyone loves them … and people to watch out for. Finnick Odair, the youngest Victor in history at only fourteen and Y/N L/N took the top spot for kills from Beetee during her games. Took out nine people in one go. Extremely humble” He shook his head, remembering the brutality.

Katniss made a face. “You’re kidding right?” She snorted.

“Yes, I’m kidding.” Haymitch rolled his eyes. “They’re both peacocks, preeners … The Capitol loves their charm and friendship. They have a lot of support. They would make good allies … but deadly competition.” Haymitch explained.  

“Weaknesses?” Peeta questioned, leaning towards his mentor.

“Finnick will have Mags in there, she basically raised him. He’ll want to protect her in whatever ways he can” Haymitch told them, taking a seat. “Y/N … far too trusting at heart and will do anything to protect them both. She’d rather see herself die than her friends.” He stated.

Katniss simply nodded.

-

Katniss walked into the training room, and scanned her surroundings … She didn’t know these Victors well enough to decide who she wanted to align herself with. According to Haymitch … to make it through the Quarter Quell, she and Peeta needed strong allies. Though she knew deep down the only one she could truly depend on was Peeta. 

Katniss walked towards the bow and arrows laying on the table when she heard the sound of a faint giggle, something she thought she would never hear. She looked up, and her eyes moved around the room … finally they landed on the culprit. She frowned at the sight as she watched a blush rise on Y/N’s face. It wasn’t from endurance training, but from Finnick Odair. 

Katniss had not taken Finnick, refused to, even … he was far too cocky for her taste and she didn’t want him anywhere near her. But Y/N seemed almost enamoured by him … like she liked … whatever the hell was going on.

Katniss made a mental note of the two, as she headed towards Mags … she would keep that to herself for now. She needed to make some friends here, and Katniss thought that Mags would be a good start.

-

“You’re going to get us caught, Finnick.” You blushed, pushing him away as you headed in the opposite direction. “Play it cool, Odair … can’t have everyone knowing about us.” You whispered.

“Sorry.” Finnick put his hands up in defence, a small smile lacing his features. “I’ll try to tone it down but looking at you … that’s going to be hard to do.” 

“Zip it.” You made the motion of your lips. “We’ve got training to do.” You told him, gesturing towards the room.

Everyone else was laser focused on honing their skills, making it known that they were not to be messed with in the Games. But you two were simply goofing off, and giggling like two schoolgirls who had gossip that no one else knew. You were certain that Snow wasn’t pleased, nor was the new Game Maker but you were in your world. Finnick had always made it hard to concentrate on the task at hand.  

You and Finnick had been together for three years. During the 71st Hunger Games you had both been mentors for your respective Districts, and he had confessed to you. It was strange … so confusing to find love in the hardship of the Games but you wouldn’t trade that for the world. You loved him more than anything and he loved you right back. Long distance had been hard at first but you made it work, you would always make it work for him. 

“Find me later?” He asked.

“I know your room number.” You said, smiling towards him.

-

“I don’t know if I’m ready to go back in there.” You whispered, snuggling closer to Finnick.

You knew the plan, and you knew you had to get Katniss and Peeta out of that arena. Plutarch and Haymitch had made that abundantly clear. There was a Rebellion and Plutarch was on your side, he was hiding in plain sight, ready to take down The Capitol. You jumped at the chance to join, even if that meant sacrificing your own life. Finnick had agreed immediately once he knew you were joining. He had always shared your sentiments about having a better future for everyone.

You wanted a better life, a quiet life with him and you would fight for that every single day. You finally had your chance, and you had no idea if it was going to work but you had to try, you had to fight.

“I know.” He whispered, his thumb gliding across your hip. “I’m not either.”

“When we’re in there …” You muttered, kissing his jaw. “You have to remember that Katniss and Peeta are the most important ones there. Okay? You have to protect them first and everything else comes later.” 

He smelt like vanilla, probably from the soap supplied from The Capitol, but it was so soothing to you.

“I … I don’t know if I can do that.” Finnick said, plainly. “I know this Rebellion is important … I know that they are important but they’re not the most important things to me, Y/N. You and Mags will always be far more important than some Rebellion.” 

“Finnick.” You felt the lump rise in your throat.

This could be the last time that you two were together, and you weren’t handling it well. You knew you would never be safe again after winning The Games. You were well aware that you would never have peace again, but you didn’t think you would be in this position ever again. You certainly didn’t want to be here with Finnick.

“Let’s just be together right now.” He said, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s pretend that nothing is going to happen tomorrow and we're just laying under the stars and nothing is going to go wrong.” His breathing started to even out, and his heartbeat steadied your own.

“Okay.” You whispered, desperately swallowing. “Okay.”

-

“Finnick! Katniss!” You cried, chasing them into the woods, Johanna and Peeta on your tail.

The Games hadn’t been going as planned. 

First you had been separated from Finnick, which had caused you great distress. You ended up pairing with Johanna, Beetee and Wiress, fighting your way through blood rain and wild beasts. 

Then you had lost both Wiress and Mags. You had lost so many who joined The Rebellion, you watched the announcements every night and flinched whenever a cannon fired, wondering if you were losing a friend or foe. But you didn’t have time to grieve either of them, so much was at stake. You had to make it through another night to ensure that you would be saved. Giving up when you were so close wasn’t an option

But God you were so tired.

Then … the jabberjays started. 

You hated jabberjays.

They hadn't been used during your games, but you knew they tortured anyone who listened.

You had stepped out to find something food for everyone, and Beetee volunteered to come with you. You were all hungry, and getting weaker, especially after the fight at the cornucopia. You needed some sort of energy, and you weren’t going to see anyone die of starvation. 

You had been gone for maybe twenty minutes when you heard Katniss scream, shortly followed by Finnick. Fear had seized your heart, as you wasted no time chasing the sounds, Beetee desperately calling for you. 

You weren’t afraid to fight whatever threat was out there … especially when Finnick’s life was on the line. You would gladly die if it meant he lived.

You had met up with everyone, chasing down the other two and when you had found them, screaming, Jabberjays fluttering above them … your voice crying for help … you had cried, desperately trying to reach Finnick but to no avail. 

He and Katniss were trapped, writhing on the ground … sobbing and there was nothing you could do but wait.

It had been horrible to watch, you could only imagine what they were experiencing. 

You didn’t care who knew anymore, you would scream from the rooftops that you were in love with Finnick, if that meant he would be okay. You needed him to be okay.

It seemed like hours before the Jabberjays had flown away, and you had run to his side in an instant. Holding him close to you, assuring him that you were okay. 

“Y/N?” His voice sounded so goddamn small.

“I’m here baby.” You whispered, into his ear, gently rocking the man. “I am here, and I am okay. You’re okay.” You leaned in and kissed his forehead.

You were well aware of the shocked eyes on you, no one but Johanna knew anything about the two of you, and you met the brown eyes of Katniss. She seemed the most shocked out of anyone here. You knew she didn’t particularly like Finnick, she had only really met the persona he portrayed to the world. She didn’t know him like you did, you knew his heart.

“Everything is going to be okay.” You told him. “It’s going to be all okay.”

-

“He loves them.” Katniss said after a moment of silence, watching the two figures in the water.

She wondered how she could have missed it, all the signs were there yet she had been shocked. She didn’t understand the two, probably never would but that wasn’t really any of her concern.

“Yeah.” Johanna nodded. “They do. They’ve been through a lot together, I’ve known for a long time that those two were together. It’s disgusting really how much they love each other, they would quite literally kill for one another. Can’t blame them though, when you find someone like that you keep them close to your heart.” She shrugged. 

“I never thought …” Katniss trailed off.

“That anyone could ever love someone that much?” Johanna questioned, crossing her arms. “Well believe it, Katniss, because it’s right there.”

Katniss moved her gaze away from Johanna and back towards the water, the kiss was short and sweet but in that moment she knew that nothing could break those two apart. Nothing would, and they had something worth fighting for.