zujime

[zujime]

THIRSTY ─── leone a.

overview. feral, carnal, lust hungry. words that all describe what you are, but don't worry. he'll find a way to train you to be patient.

content. vamp leone, werewolf reader, afab reader, orgasm denial, brief fingering, oral (m), face fucking, no y/n usage, drool play, porn w/ no plot, biting, bloodsucking, no orgasms, pet names used: love, my love,  mutt, pup

word count. 1.5k

note. everybody say ty to my bf cause this was supposed to come out LAST YEAR ... embarrassing, but he's helping me get back into my jojo's era :))

He was sprawled on the bed with an arm draped over his face when you hopped on top of his hips, straddling him in nothing but a loose shirt and panties. Your tail swayed from side to side avidly as you rubbed at his sides, tipping your head a bit to one side as you let a silly yet lust-hungry grin spread across your lips.

The white-haired man beneath you merely lets out a brief huff before gradually raising his arm to gaze up at you, golden eyes saturated with sanguine hunger. “What is it, my love?” He says softly, almost in a low hum. You lean down, shirt riding up as his hands find purchase on your sides, and letting the exposed skin of your tummy rub up against his icy touch.

You leave little licks and nibbles on the skin of his neck and collarbone before littering kisses all over the areas, all while murmuring. “Do I need to spell it out?” Almost smug as you let a chuckle slip from your lips—lips that left kisses in their wake as they trailed up to his, hovering over the soft skin still stained purple from his signature lipstick, merely a breath away.

“I want you…” you drawl, voice low and smooth like an autumn's breeze before you finally close the gap. Savoring his plush lips sloppily and with vigor, almost as if you’d never been given this chance again.

He leans into it with a need—a yearning that silently conveys his ever-growing thirst, and the smell of you makes it no better. However, he breaks the hungry kiss to push you to sit upright on his lap as he propped his back up against the headboard.

His slender yet tender hand moves to cup the fat of your cheek which you lean into, allowing him to scratch the spot behind your ear, resulting in you melting further into him. “You know I gotta feed first, he doesn’t just get up when he wants to anymore.” Leone chuckles, shamelessly glancing at your neck as he speaks.

“Then what’s taking you so long? It’s not like I ever said you couldn’t feed from me.” You watch the way his golden eyes darken as you grant him permission with nothing but a whine and a needy grind from your hips.

It’s not long before he’s leaning in to latch onto you, sinking his pearly white fangs into the skin of your neck and suckling with a groan—the taste of you making him dizzy. You wince but only for a moment as the pain subsides quickly. His hand squeezes at your side with unbridled need as you're lost in the airy feeling this grants you.

Dribbles of crimson dripped down his lips and your neck before he finally pulls away, breathing heavily whilst wiping the dripping blood with his thumb and sucking it off before licking off what’s been missed on your neck, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. Leone moves further from your neck to peer into your eyes, free hand caressing your cheek once more as he basks in the dazed look in your eyes.

“How are you feeling, love? I didn't take too much from you, did I?” You merely throw him a hazy purr of, “feelin' great”, before licking a stripe along his neck once more as you start to continuously grind your—now soaked—panties against his clothed erection, earning a small sigh from him accompanied by a chuckle. “Still just as persistent, I see.”

He grabs you by your chin, dragging your face from his neck to kiss you with that same fervor as last time, yet this one wasn’t as hungry as the last, though just as sloppy as your tongue laps at his lips before ravaging his mouth in an open-mouthed kiss—lips colliding, tongues clashing with one another and occasionally grazing one anothers’ fangs, tasting the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue.

Though, yet again he’s the one to pull away, but you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, letting your noses brush up against each other gently as you let out a dejected whine accompanied by the puppy eyes you throw his way. With a quick peck to your lips once more, he coos.

“I’ve spoiled you enough, pup. Now,” His breath hitches when you grind against him once more—his eyelids fluttering closed for a moment before he catches himself. “On your knees for me.” The demand is soft—still laced with the gentleness he typically carries in his voice when he’s speaking with you—but a hint of authority is ever present.

You comply; begrudgingly getting off his lap and sliding off the bed, knees softly colliding with the carpet. Leone shifts to sit at the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide enough for your body to fit between as he moves a hand to hold your face, a tad forcefully—causing your lips to pucker a bit and your tail to wag jubilantly. He merely admires the blissed out and needy state you’re in, wordlessly.

Only releasing your face to rest his palms against the mattress, leaning back on the base of his palms and peering down at you from the angle, “be a good pup and pull my cock out for me.” Almost as if you were waiting to hear those words, you make quick work of his pants—nearly tearing them off him—and his boxers, mouth practically watering as you watch it spring free.

He was about to speak before he’s cut off by an abrupt moan at the feel of you suckling on the head before taking his entire cock down your throat, earning a breathy groan from the man above you. It does nothing but drive you crazy—paired with his musk, the way he can’t decide between grabbing hold of your head or not, and the occasional bucking into your mouth—you can’t help but be drunk on this feeling.

Your eyes flutter shut as you bob your head on his cock in a mindlessly hungry craze, tongue moving to rub at the underside of his cock as you inch toward the hilt. Leone’s abdomen twitches and jerks with each ragged breath he takes, you make his brain melt.

There’s drool dribbling down the corner of his lips in how lost in ecstasy he is. Though, it’s still not enough. He sits up, grabbing the sides of your head with each hand before fucking your throat needily, spewing incoherent swears and praises as you gag on him—tears building at your waterline.

He takes a quick break. Sliding out of your mouth slowly before slapping his cock on your lips, to which you loll out your tongue for him to slap it up against before he gently squishes your cheeks in his hand, opening his mouth to let his drool ooze out into yours.

His eyes watch hungrily as you swallow and gaze up at him expectantly. “My love,” he murmurs, uttering something in italian before groaning, “You’re so gorgeous, you know that? Such a pretty little mutt..” he drawls, smearing the mixture of precum and saliva from the corners of your lips. You can’t help but whimper and moan as you drink up his praise.

His voice velvety as he asks you to get back on the bed for him—lying to the left of him as he laid back on the bed alongside you, a leg of yours gently nudged open by his cold hand, rubbing through your soaked panties.

You can’t help the shaky moan that leaves you as he slides you underwear to the side and slips a finger in. He gently urges his fingers into you—down to the knuckle, eliciting a broken whine to escape your lips—as he slowly moves to hover over you, fingers moving agonizingly slow now. Huffs of breaths sneak between each cry in discontent. He's teasing you and by the look of his smug face, he knows it's getting to you.

The vampire lets a low, hearty chuckle leave his throat in amusement before he coos at you, "what'd I tell you about being an impatient little pup, hm?" He leans down further so that his lips ghost the beat of your pulse, opening his mouth to lick up your neck. You squirm a little feeling the tingly sensation of your orgasm growing near, panting and whining like a bitch in heat but you can't help it—feels too good. And the little love bites Leone leaves in his wake upon your neck, collarbone, and shoulder do anything but help.

Though, with one last pump of his finger, he pulls out—relishing in the dejected whimper you let out. "But I was so close..." You whine, ears drooping as you move to bury your face in the mattress. "I know, my love, but you were being impatient. So, you'll just have to wait until you learn your lesson." He sighs, getting up from his spot on the bed and heading to the bathroom, leaving you yearning once more.

© zujime. all rights reserved. do not translate, copy, modify, repost or claim any of my works on any platform as yours.

[zujime]

plz write leone x reader smut 🫶

i gyatt you, lemme post it rn :P

[zujime]

worlds slowest fanfic author tries really really hard

[zujime]

IM STILL ALIVE GUYS I PROMISE it’s just college and work are taking up most of my time 😞 BUT i’m working on like… 7-8 fanfics (10 but two of them are being put on hold for now) I PROMISE 😖😖

hopefully i can get at least one or two chapters out for some by the time winter break comes along, anyway i’ll still be here … lurking…

if you want to see what i’ve got planned, you can click here to see what i’ve been thinking abt!

[zujime]

This is me. Kinda jealous of all the writers who can write quickly because I can't.

[zujime]

Holy shit? I’m so glad I found your blog, it’s so hard to find active jojo’s writers,

Loving your writings so far!!

THATS SO TRUE i hate that that’s true😐 anyway thank you sm🤭

[zujime]

Hello, i really like your writing, I always check for updates! If possibile may I ask for detailed oral headcanons giving and receiving for Bruno, Josuke, Giorno and Abbacchio? Thanks in advance ♡

─── bruno b. + josuke h. + giorno g. + leone a.

cw. aged up, oral (m / f receiving), drool play, cum swapping, cum eating, slight marking/bruising, makeup messing, light overstim, slight dumbification, eye contact, hand holding, faint biting

note. REALLY?? OMG TYSM i try to post as many works as i can but my brain doesn’t wanna work sometimes 🙎🏽‍♀️ also IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG college is no joke and uh… i got a little carried away💀💀 but it’s here now!! literally if you have anything else you wanna request or a lil question, etc. DO NOT HESITATE to send it in my inbox 🤭 okok bye bye🥰

(i was tempted to put ass eating in here but the demons told me no...)

bruno prefers giving over anything. that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it when you’re going down on him—hell, he loves how easy it is for you to shut his brain off with a simple kitten lick, but he just loves being able to make you writhe with nothing but the flick of his wrist.

he especially likes it when either of you have come home after a long day. the second you sit down on the couch or edge of the bed, his hands gingerly rub at one of your thighs before he gets on his knees and slots himself between your legs.

if you have on pants, he’s already peeled them off of you. skirt or dress? he’s hiked it up to your waistline. either way, both end up with him nipping at you through your underwear teasing you briefly with his teeth and tongue before dipping his fingers beneath the hem of your panties and sliding the article of clothing off, kissing at the warm skin of your thigh that’d been closest to your core.

he’d utter sweet phrases like “missed you, amore mio” that were accompanied by a firm yet delicate squeeze from his hand as he inched closer to your center with each kiss. oh, how he loves being between your legs—being able to stare as you oozed arousal. unless he’s exhausted, he always glances up at your eyes with his mesmerizing blue ones before he allows himself to get lost in all that is you.

the tip of his nose rubbing up against your sensitive nub as he relished in your core like a man starved, mindlessly mumbling praises into you with occasional whimpers that were almost drowned out by the sound of squelching his mouth made as he ravaged you. his once soft fingers now leave pretty wine-colored imprints on the expanse of your thighs and ass whilst he held your squirming body still.

“hah, f-fuuck—bruno, please!” you whine, brain nearly nothing but mush with how his skilled tongue never seemed to leave any part of your petal-smooth walls untouched. you feel the tremors of his voice before you hear him—even so, you’re too far gone to have comprehended him.

large, slender yet indelicate hands urge you closer and closer into him till he was virtually engulfed in you; the intoxicatingly sweet scent of you that left him ensnared, and the honeyed nectar that oozed from your molten hot center and mingled with his desperate slobber.

it’s not long before your stomach quivers from the knot that grows tighter and tighter with each enthusiast lick. your unsteady fingers find themselves raking through his messy raven locks as your thighs that surround his shoulders threaten to shut.

then the pressure that was trapped in your lower abdomen, snapped—flowing through your body like the waves of an ocean with each overwhelming spasm. your mind dizzy and mouth left agape as silent cries erupt from you.

finally, bruno latches off your aching cunt and gazes at you with glossed over eyes. “i’m sorry, mia amata,” he chuckles as plants a few quick soft pecks on your thighs, taking in your worn out expression. “i must’ve gotten carried away.”

he tends to get lost in the taste of you—not even worrying about whether you've come or not. you could be on your fifth orgasm and he’d still be lapping at your cunt as if he’s still trying to get your first orgasm.

though there are some instances where he’s receiving head from you, typically it’s during quickies, when he’s had a long day, or when you’re kind of taking charge in the bedroom.

he’s sprawled out on the bed, pants already thrown elsewhere in the room whilst his shirt followed leaving him in the bittersweet strain his boxers gave him. his cock twitched under the fabric as you licked a taunting stripe along its clothed underside, earning an almost impatient sigh from the man. one of your hands rested along the waistband of his briefs as your other trailed up his body—thumbing at his side before flicking and rubbing at his exposed nipple.

he loved yet hated this—he hated how much you tease him and make him wait, yet he loved how easily you could get him to be putty in your hands. it’s not long before you tug his underwear off, letting his aching cock spring free and throb with each bead of pre-cum that dribbles from the tip.

his abdomen quivers as he sucks in an unsteady breath when you lick up the mess that dripped down to the base, soon enveloping his tip in the fleshy warmness of your mouth—cheeks hollowed as you focus on it, enjoying the breathy groans that slipped from his damp lips and the heavy lidded look he peered at you with. it’s not long before you take him further into your mouth, causing his groans to shift to a stream of swears in his native tongue.

each breath shorter than the last—shallow, choppy gasps that rapidly shifted to hissed out groans every time the head of his cock kissed the back of your throat.

his hands struggling to stay in their respective places, at his sides because you begged so sweetly. you slither a hand along his stomach and to his chest, occasionally rubbing and flicking at the nub whilst your other hand gently massaged his balls.

bruno throws his head back as his body tenses and shudders at the stimulation—your throat? fuuck, and your hands? at this point, he thinks he’s done for—his hands grip at the sheets till the skin on his knuckles whiten, a string of whimpery moans fall from the man’s kiss bitten lips.

cries of the endearing pet names he’d given you followed by a cacophony of swears and quivering sobs of “gonna cum—mngh hah! ‘m close!” involuntarily, his hips buck, making you gag a bit as the tip of his cock met with your throat at a hurried pace.

his skin was fiery hot as his belly convulsed as he teetered closer to the edge, his hands in constant limbo as they yearned to push down on your head yet want to remain in their positions.

though his mind goes blank and his body stills as he spills his load into your mouth, a cry of ecstasy erupts from deep within him as his legs tremble with each encouraging squeeze you give his balls, blue eyes sealed shut as he emptied himself in your throat.

i also think josuke is the type of guy that loves giving BUT, he really really loves receiving more than anything.

mainly because he think you just look so fucking pretty with his cock in your mouth; how you gaze up at him with glassy eyes when the tip hits the back of your throat a few times, how messy you look when drool dribbles from the corner of your mouth, and how pitifully pretty you look when he shoots his load down your throat.

it only gets worse when you’ve either got on a full face of makeup or you’re in the process of putting it on. maybe you two have a dinner reservation or a simple night out with friends? whatever the case, the minute he sees you the two of you are either late or stuck at home—aka, mascara running as your eyes watered from gagging and lipgloss smeared all over the left side of your face and all over his cock.

the view was just so pretty from up here, especially after he adds the much needed finishing touch to your makeup, making sure it gives your skin that nice dewy finish before he’s gingerly laying you on the comforter so he can get his share too.

he runs a thumb along the corner of your lips, intently ruining your hard work. “wha— josuke, what are yo—!” you huff before you're interrupted by a low voice that’d been brought down to a whisper despite it just being the two of you.

“i think you look pretty like this, babe.” his lips warm and wet as they leave a trail of small hickeys along the juncture of your shoulder and neck. “we don’t have time for this, josuke. we gotta be at the place in twen—“

“but,” he interrupts once more, pausing to peer up at you through the bathroom mirror as he continues. “i think you’d look prettier with my dick in your mouth.” he whispers in your ear, tone sultry whilst his eyes remain stuck on yours—silently pleading as his hands squeezed needily at your waist.

doesn’t take much to get you on your knees with your hands ghosting themselves along the belt and button that kept his painfully swollen shaft tucked away. the metal of the buckle clinks as it clashes with the tile floor, you slip a hand under his shirt only to tenderly rub at his abdomen, hand threatening to dip below his slacks.

your lips litter the fabric around the zipper with lipgloss before you catch the metal zip between your teeth, sliding it agonizingly slow while gazing into his bluish-purple hues.

his pants and underwear fall as quickly as he put them on this morning. his now slick with precum that seemed to leak ceaselessly from his tip that’d been a fierce sanguine color as it throbbed with each feathery light kiss you placed upon it—dragging out a myriad of low groans and shivering inhales.

he rests a hand on your cheek all while you take him in your mouth, lipgloss leaving a sticky trail along his cock each time you slipped him out of warmness behind your lips.

he always ends up shooting blanks almost right after a couple of minutes. if he isn’t pulling out and spilling his spend on your face whilst admiring the new look, he’s begging you not to swallow his cum.

mumbling things like “wanna taste it on your lips” or “tastes so much sweeter from you” while pulling you up from on your knees just to sloppily slide his tongue in your mouth, making a sticky mess of cum and spit dribble from both your lips.

when he’s giving you head, it can vary. sometimes it’s after he’s cum in you after a quickie or just a normal night. he’s the type of guy to be like “i kiss you after you suck me off, why would it matter” but says “can’t leave you all dirty now, can i?” instead.

other times he’d be shamelessly between your legs while you were on the phone with someone—he apologizes profusely later but bro has needs and he gets a kick outta hearing how you struggle to bite back a few mewls from spilling out, or when you’re about to go somewhere and you’re waiting for a friend to pick you up.

you almost forgot where you were when he pulled out and started lapped away at your pretty pussy, mumbling sweet praises and a faint ‘gotta clean you up’  in his wake whilst his fingers practically dug into the skin of you plush thighs to hold you in place. he was sloppy, but good.

had your dress not been hiked up your thigh it’d be just like his shirt—the shirt that had been drenched in your juices and some splotches of his spend, sure, but it was mainly his slob that oozed from his bottom lip in fervor with each whimper he emitted as his cock twitched.

your thighs quivered around his broad shoulders as you neared another high—your tummy tensed with each silky sweep, gasps uneven yet punctuated before you silently scream and convulse. and he almost continues, that is until the doorbell rings.

“sh-shit! Josuke, I gotta go.” you gasp frantically, breath labored as you glance at him—wiping the blend of liquids from his mouth with his thumb before licking it clean. your legs almost give out as you go over to give him a quick kiss and a ‘love you’ before heading off.

i think leone would honestly be content either.

maybe he likes pleasing you and making you feel like nothing but putty in his hands, while he might also have days where he just wants to fuck till you’re nothing but dumb on his dick.

i think when he just wants to bask in you—days where he just wants to take his time with you; lazy days, maybe even special occasions, etc. at times like this, he thinks about your pleasure yes, but he’s more focused on drinking in all of you—no wall or crevice will remain untouched.

he’s eating you out like you’re his last meal, slow yet thorough. and he loves hearing you whine for more, for him to pick up the pace, anything! but he just peers up at you with heavy lids, giving your clit a quick pinch and then a loving lick before closing his eyes and resuming his mind-numbingly slow pace. eating you out is like an art form to him…

your back arches from off the soft comforter as you squirm, tears welling in your waterline at his tortuous pace. “leone, please–!” you mewl only for your plea to fall upon deaf ears as his eyes remain blissfully shut whilst his kneading at your thigh and hip never cease, as for his slow attacks on your slick center—they remained the same.

you let out a pitiful wail that veered into a choppy sigh. it’s not long before he picks up the pace only by a bit, groaning into your dewy paradise that gushed the very nectar that left him yearning for more.

on other days though, he might wanna whore you out—slap the head of his cock on the tip of your tongue, watch you drink his drool before finally pushing his cock to the back of your throat. choked out chuckles of ‘such a good slut for me’ and ‘so pretty with my dick in your mouth’ as he face fucks you.

his hands either resting on the sides of your face or wrapped comfortably around your neck, no in between. typically he wraps his hands around your neck just to feel the print his dick leave when you take him down to the hilt. 

his thumb rubs at your cheek as a stray tear falls from your eye. he takes his cock out of your mouth before tapping at your bottom lip with his pointer. “be a good girl and open up for me.” he sighs, smirking as part your kiss swollen lips for him, making sure your tongue is out.

it’s not long before he slaps the wet muscle with his fat, aching tip as he emits a faint gasp at the feeling only to stop and pull your face closer to his, as saliva dripped from his tongue and onto yours. uttering a ‘swallow’ before easing his cock back into your mouth after you’d open it again.

giorno look like he stares.. okay wait hear me out.

i think giorno is very tender when he’s both giving and receiving head, but i also think he likes being able to look into your eyes when it’s happening. it just does something for him.

i think that and MAYBE a bit of hand holding because he likes when you start squeezing his hand when you feel good or are close.

not only does that warm his heart but it also kinda shows him that he’s doing a good job. at least that’s what he thinks when he’s eating you out, you on the other hand…

he has literally dumbed you down. when he asks you something or mumbles something you can’t even comprehend it, let alone form thoughts in general.

he’d fluctuate between a slow and a fast pace because he doesn’t want you to cum too quick but he also kinda wants you to and so while he’s doing that, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open even by a bit.

and everytime your eyes fall shut, he gives you thigh a quick little nibble to get you back on track, hopefully.

you’re nothing but a babbling mess under his sharp yet adoring gaze. your mouth yearns to say anything other than swears but your mind is merely a puddle in that head of yours all thanks to your boyfriend.

one of his hands intertwined gingerly with yours as he sucked and lapped at your dripping pussy longingly—as if your juices were his only source of hydration. your lids threaten to shut from the immense pleasure, grip on his hand tightening as your abdomen tingled.

your eyes shut and just when you’re about to cum, he pulls away and bites at your thigh, which get a dejected whine from you.

when he’s on the receiving end, he wants to go slow cause just looking at your eyes almost makes him cum, but he just wants to see you but your mouth is so warm—ripping pathetic noises from him, ranging from uneven breaths to whimpers and whines. 

his hand tightly enveloping yours as you suck at his tip before taking his cock all the way to the hilt, making his abdomen shudder and tense at the sensation whilst his mouth hung wide open yet all that came out were silent sobs.

his golden locks were now in disarray and intermingled with sweat as his stomach quivered each time you took him to the base. pre cum practically pooling in your mouth as his breathing became more ragged.

though despite his eyes being on the verge of closure, his sights were forever trained on you and how pretty your swollen lips looked around his aching cock. swears slipping from his tongue in a melody that left your core warm with fiery arousal. his chest rising and falling with each quickened breath as his hips began to involuntarily buck as he neared his climax.

© zujime. all rights reserved. do not translate, copy, modify, repost or claim any of my works on any platform as yours.

[zujime]

have you thought abt doing smaus? I FEEL URS WLD BE SO GOODOMG

IVE ACTUALLY NEVER THOUGHT ABT THAT TBH

if im not mistaken it’s like the texting thing… right? or like insta or twt??🤔 i mean i can consider it but don’t hold your breath on that 💀

if i do end up doing a smau for one or more of the fandoms i write for, it might end up being more of a crack post than anything if imma be honest but idk

i’ll think abt it tho 🤭

[zujime]

imma try to work on the three requests i got, maybe after should i do a lil birthday event soon?? literally i wanna write more cause college has been kicking my ass bro😞

[zujime]

Hi, I'm new to your blog, but I really like your creativity, you're doing a great job. I have an idea and I hope you like it too. I imagine Jotaro during part 3 with fem s/o who usually has little contact with Jotaro and doesn't approve of his rude behavior, but during a late night conversation confesses to JoJo that he reminds her of her little sister. They are equally rude in public, they have equally stern faces, but inside them is hidden a big and kind heart open to from the family

─── jotaro k.

cw. fluffy stuff, fem reader, and some swearing

jotaro, who you hardly stand next to throughout the journey—mostly to keep your mind on the task at hand but also because it’s already enough of a mood ruiner hearing him rudely telling someone off, the last thing you want is for any of that to be unintentionally directed towards you. so, steering clear seemed like the safest option as of now. though, his unreadable blue hues always seemed to glimmer beneath the brim of his hat whenever he’d catch yours as he took a drag of his cigarette.

jotaro, who gives even a baby a daunting glare for staring at you at all. unless the two of you have been torn away from one another, making civil conversations with anyone is nothing but a challenge as you’re escorted around with your own personal, six-foot-tall pole with an unmatched poker face.

jotaro, who despite his cold demeanor, thinks of you when he’s getting food. typically getting something big enough for the both of you, saying something along the lines of “figured we could split it” as he spots the giddy look on your face.

jotaro, who’s now in a hotel room the two of you are sharing for the night. the room remains silent for a while but it’s different from his typical, cold silence—it's faint, but warm. his frame and features soften when he’s under your tender gaze. it’s not until a few moments later that you realize, he reminds you of someone.

“hm..?” he hummed as studied your expression—a soft smile adorned your lips as you shook your head slightly, chuckling before opening your mouth to speak. “it’s just— you remind me of my little sister.” you catch the way the space between his brows crinkle faintly as he processes what you’ve just told him. “she acts like you in a way—-she’s almost just as much of an asshole, except… behind closed doors.”

jotaro, who smiles a little at your words. his heavy steps were now gentle against the wooden floor as he padded across the room to sit beside you on the bed. uttering a “so? want me to be nice to everyone i meet or something?” before moving to hold your face in one of his hands—cheek cupped gently in his grasp. “get some rest” he whispers, running a thumb across the expanse of your cheekbone.

© zujime. all rights reserved. do not translate, copy, modify, repost or claim any of my works on any platform as yours.

[zujime]

─── vi

cw. best friend’s ex! vi, fluff, implied fem reader (no pronouns used tho), acquaintances to lovers, (slight) slow burn, cuddles, sharing a bed, movie nights, pet names mentioned: princess, babe, hun, gorgeous.

note. a lil somthing i conjured up during my period insomnia :)) I'm running on one hour of sleep ya'll mrgh... anyway, should i make another part?

best friend’s ex! vi who you only ever saw in passing when she was still with your bestie. why they broke up was always a topic your friend never really expanded upon but they got off on somewhat good terms—though you do recall the prolonged stares vi would give you when she’d come by.

best friend’s ex! vi who you happened to stumble upon when going to get your lunch at the cafe that was across from your job right after you finished your shift. you remember hearing that she wasn’t really a fan of the food here because “the food ’s just glorified hospital food”, though the silly jab at her comment is caught in your throat when she greets you; silver eyes soft as they flicker between your eyes, scarred lips curling into a shy smirk as the velvety soft sound of her voice reaches your ears.

best friend’s ex! vi who you gave your number to after that same encounter to keep in touch—she’d text you during your breaks to ask silly questions and take your mind off work stress and later call you after your shifts end. and those calls end up lasting far longer than intended, either up until someone falls asleep or till someone’s phone dies.

best friend’s ex! vi who takes three weeks to ask if you wanna hang out, you know, as friends? inviting you over for a movie night at her place on your day off to watch the movies you’d been dying to watch but never got around to. you were able to get through the first two but as soon as the third movie started, you began nodding off before vi felt your head softly fall onto her taut shoulder—your lashes ghosting the exposed skin as you slept peacefully, drooling a little.

best friend’s ex! vi who chuckles slightly at the sight and at the warm, heart-swelling feeling you give her whenever you call, text—hell, whenever she sees your face. she turns the tv off before picking you up and tucking you in her bed before she goes to sleep on the couch.

best friend’s ex! vi who you wake up and walk down the hall to see laid out on the couch, limbs hanging off the couch from under the soft blanket she had on—low mumbles could be heard from her sleeping form, faint yet audible, though they’re cut short as she stretches and slides a hand over her face in hopes of wiping away the sleep, eyelids heavy as she peers at you.

“how long have you been watching me?” her voice still carried the taunt with a softness as she spoke groggily. you feel your face grow warm at her question, despite it being a tease but you brush it off and thank her for letting you stay the night even though none of you intended to have a sleepover. she hums in response before getting up off the couch. “it was like—three in the morning—and i am not some asshole who would’ve just let you go home alone, princess.” the pet name slid so effortlessly off her tongue as she passed by you, to go shower.

best friend’s ex! vi who you find yourself hanging out with more and more, and the pet names she’d give you only seemed to grow—not like you had a problem with it. she’d call you things like babe, princess, and hun far more than she’d ever say your actual name, she even calls you gorgeous, though rather sparingly because sometimes she feels like she’s going a little too far.

best friend’s ex! vi who you refuse to tell your bestie about every time she asks what you’re thinking about whenever you zone out during your monthly outings.

“what’s with that face?” she inquires, giggling a bit at the shamelessly lovesick expression you wore. “what face? what’re you talking about?” you snap back to reality, eyeing your friend anxiously as you listen to her response. “you know, that face people make in those really cheesy romcoms from the 2000s when they’d just met the love of their life or something…” she trailed off, now squinting at you in suspicion. “...are you seeing someone?” “...” “hello?!” “girl, no! i’m thinking about when imma get my mfing food.”

best friend’s ex! vi who you practically live with at this point—because of how often you two have sleepovers, she has a majority of your belongings all around her apartment; your clothes in her closet and dresser, your extra toothbrush and hair products, fav foods/snacks and drinks in the fridge, etc. though, she still insists on sleeping on the couch whenever you stay over despite you stating you have no problem sharing the bed. eventually, she caved—reluctant at first as she squirmed under the comforter to get comfortable beside you until she finally was able to fall asleep. 

best friend’s ex! vi who at first when sharing the bed with you, would often wake up to make sure she wasn’t crowding your space or being touchy in any way. but the moment she woke up to your arms draped over her frame, she softened and decided to just let herself sleep—burying her face in the crook of your neck and holding you close as she slept, yet she still tries to be mindful of her movement so she doesn’t wake you.

best friend’s ex! vi who you realize is a huge sucker for physical affection. oftentimes brushing her hand against yours in hopes of holding it but hesitantly refraining from interlocking fingers when in public. and when the two of you are alone, she desperately leans into whatever you give her—head scratches, movie night cuddles, pinky holding, tracing her tattoos with your fingers, anything.

best friend’s ex! vi who realizes she has feelings for you during one of your typical movie nights, but the look you gave her when the movie ended—eyes reflecting the television screen so prettily as you tilt your head slightly to peer up at her before speaking, but whatever it was you said had completely gone through one ear and out the other as the skin of her ears slowly became a deep red.

"fuck." was the only thought that crossed her mind as she stared at your soft eyes. "vi?" you murmur, a little worried at the expression she wore. but she abruptly stands up before excusing herself and heading to the bathroom.

best friend’s ex! vi who you spent the last few days worrying about—is she ok? is she sick? did you make her uncomfortable? thoughts seemed to race through your head endlessly until she asks if you could come over real quick, through a text.

best friend’s ex! vi who—despite having met multiple people before—gets nervous when you step foot in her apartment. in her eyes, the feeling of her words falling messily from her lips as she spills her guts to you feels weird. but when you creep close to her—lips mere inches from hers as your breaths mingled and eyes heavy-lidded—that feeling dissipates.

best friend’s ex! vi who gets lost in the sea that is your lips as you drown in the feelings she was too scared to show you. callous hands slotting themselves needily on each side of your face, pulling you deeper into the kiss with every shared breath, begging never to part. almost as if accepting her request, you rest a hand against hers, smiling into the searing kiss before finally pulling away for air and softly gazing up at her silver orbs.

© zujime. all rights reserved. do not translate, copy, modify, repost or claim any of my works on any platform as yours.

[zujime]

─── katsuki b. + izuku m.

cw. aged up, fluff, mention of temporary quirk erasure, porn w/o much plot, established polyamorous relationship, pillow prince izuku, brief masturbation (m), handjob (m), marking, cockwarming, no y/n usage, (slight) nipple play, overstimulation, pet names used: baby, honey

note. this has been in my drafts for two whole years, if the writing style changes that’s most likely why. also, i'm so sorry the fluff is kinda long, i had to cut some of it cause it was a little longer💀

The apartment was filled with a pleasant stillness as you watched the water in the pot begin to fester as it rested on the stovetop. Katsuki had been prepping a few veggies, occasionally peeping in your direction to make sure you hadn’t hurt yourself whilst the two of you patiently waited for your speckled partner to get home from work.

The towering blond had been allowed a week to recover from his injuries during a recent villain attack. His injuries weren’t drastic—mainly a few cuts and bruises, but it took a lot out of him. The villain had nullified his quirk temporarily and his quirk was estimated to come back a few days from now, though the aftermath had been the absence of energy he currently had.

You walk over to the taller man whose face was accompanied by his usual glower; “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” You query, observing his hands attentively as he minces the vegetables before letting a grunt leave him. “It’s nothin' serious. I just don’t wanna sleep all damn day,” he rumbled—softly—as his motions came to a halt for an instant, as his scarlet eyes found yours briefly; “I’ll live” he concludes before going back to mincing.

A smile grows on the skin of your lips as you find yourself on your tiptoes, leaving a delicate, yet tender peck on his cheek before returning to what you’d been doing, and from the corner of your eye, you could almost see his features ease from the action.

Exchanges were brief yet delightful, allotting the sound of water bubbling to fill the silent void instead, though the moment the front door unlocks, you’re both twisting to see who’d come through.

Your lips form a warm smile as you met his forest eyes, Katsuki’s eyes slightly softening at the sight of him. “Oh hey, you’re back!” You chirp, eyes greeting his weary ones after he toed off his sneakers and left them at the door. You turn the stove to a low setting before promptly going over to the walking bedhead; eyes doused in nothing but fret as you inspect his exhausted ones.

“You alright?” Voice as gentle as he remembered, “come on, I’ll run you a bath, then we can talk about it during dinner if you want.” Your hand rubbed tenderly at his clothed bicep in hopes of soothing him somehow, but all he gives you is a slight nod and a frail “sure” in return. “Alright. Katsuki,” You call out in a whisper.

“Can you take care of dinner? I’ll be right back-“ “I’ll handle it.” The blond interrupts, tone gruff yet delicate as his eyes remained trained on what he’d been doing. You utter an “okay” before accompanying the tired pro hero to the washroom.

Steamy water began loading the bathtub as you helped Izuku out of his battered costume. You turned the tub faucet off after the water neared the brim, and the freckled man before you was now in nothing but his boxers. You waited for him to step out of them, only to be caught off guard when he pulled you into him.

His delicate facial features find their place hidden in your collar as his hair tickles your temple. You bring a hand up to his disheveled curls and massage his scalp, cherishing the view of the man that towered over you, melting to your touch.

“You alright, ‘zuku?” His arms tighten their grasp on your frame as the dulcet melody of your voice reaches his ears. He mumbles something in response, but it’s tough to decipher. “I can’t hear you, honey.” You snicker and move one of your hands to cup his face to get him to look at you. “I wanna...hold you. Can I?” His voice came out a bit smaller than he’d intended it to. “You’re holding me right now, aren’t you?” You ask, only to get a no in response. “That’s not what I meant,” he adds sheepishly, “I wanna keep holding you.”

“... In the tub?”

“Please?” He pleas as he leans his head into your palm. “Okay, I have to get something first.” He nods and frees you from his hold and begins taking off his boxers as you head out of the bathroom to fetch a few towels and washcloths.

Nimbly coming back to the sight of him snugly seated in the bathtub. You prop the neatly folded towels on the counter before taking off your clothes and joining Izuku, water sloshing as you straddle his lap and face him.

The conversations were mostly kept to a minimum as the two of you bask in the pacifying silence you shared after you’d both finished cleaning one another, though that peace is brought to a curt end when your blonde boyfriend slides open the door to the bathroom. His demeanor was seemingly more serene than usual and his voice was soft as he spoke, “the food’s ready, so don’t be in here all night.”

The door shut, leaving the two of you to tend to your business before finally getting out of the—now room temperature—water so you don’t prune up.

After Izuku’s done drying off and putting on the clothes that’d been nicely folded on the bathroom counter, he sits on the edge of the tub, now content as you gently dry his hair. His jagged hands found their place on your waist as he leaned into your touch once more, uttering an almost silent “thank you”.

“You don’t need to thank me, ‘zuku” you giggle; “I mean it. I’d be ready and willing to do this anytime for you—and maybe Mr. grouchy out there too.” The joke was stupid, but it somehow managed to pull a small and sweet laugh from both of you. “Come on, you know how he gets when we take too long.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek before placing a kiss there.

Hand in hand, the two of you stroll out of the bathroom and into the dining room where your shared partner had been waiting patiently—to the best of his ability. The blonde hadn’t even started eating as he waited, his ruby eyes finally gazing up at your figures.

“Sit” he croaks, nodding towards the vacant chairs around the table and the two of you do so, hands straying as you go to take a seat at the dinner table. All Katsuki does is glare at both of you before directing you to eat and threatening to force-feed you if you choose not to. You chortle and shake your head as you pick up your silverware and start eating.

You know he meant well with his statement and is just concerned about the well-being of his lovers, but his way of conveying that is...questionable. “Thank you, Katsuki.” You hum before putting your food in your mouth. The blonde just grunts and glances over at Izuku to make sure he’d been eating as well before ultimately letting himself eat.

There weren’t many conversations shared at the dinner table as you all ate tonight, but the three of you still remained—comfortably seated around the table, sitting in silence.

The three of you were in bed now, trying to go to sleep—a task Izuku seemed to be struggling with as he squirmed where he lay, nestled between the both of you. He was hard, so painfully hard—so much so that he thinks he might combust.

His breathing grew shaky with every passing second, till eventually, he gave in—he snuck a hand down his pants, grabbing hold of his shaft somewhat tightly as a poorly repressed whine left the cusps of his lips.

Quickly he slaps a hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence his whimpers and for a moment it works—at least he thinks it does before your eyes flutter open. “‘Zuku? Are you alright–” Your groggy inquiry is cut short as you peer down at where his other hand had been. A tired smile flourishes on your lips as you gaze back into his eyes with heavy-lidded ones. “Want some help with that?” You chuckle softly as you move your hand to shroud his.

“Please” was all that slipped from his lips as his cock ached in your grasp. “I got you, baby, don’t worry.” You whisper into the fat of his cheek as you leave a feather-light peck on the freckled skin. 

His taut, sleek belly shuddered with each languid stroke, each sloppy kiss on his neck, it was almost too much. You glance at him once more, kissing the hand he had clamped to his face before gently moving it away so you can capture his lips in a long, drugging kiss.

Those soft pink lips of his are now a beautifully swollen, slick mess that your tongue sweetly invades. You drink in his blissful moans like water as you move to straddle one of his muscular thighs, your core shivering at the stimulation of his leg grazing against your clothed clit.

“‘M gonna cum…hah, oh fuck—’m gonna cum!” Izuku gasped, his body shaking violently as he spilled himself in your hand. He bit down on his lip to somehow repress his cries, but your lips ensnared his with an infectious fervor in hopes of suppressing his noises until his orgasm subsided.

“You couldn’t wait till morning?” A gruff voice grumbled, rubbing at his ruby eyes before glaring at the two of you—both of you sitting there like a deer caught in headlights. The blonde lets out a tired huff as he shuffles out of bed and moves to the foot of the bed, his scarlet hues are tired yet hungry as he gazes at the both of you. “C’mere.” Katsuki coos, nodding over to you.

Slowly, you slide off of Izuku’s meaty thigh before you crawl over to the man towering over the bed, his hand sun-warm as it cups your cheek. “Clothes off for me, yeah?” The question seeps from behind his lips like honey, yet the firmness in his tone lingers—making the question seem more like a gentle demand.

You oblige, shimmying out of your t-shirt and panties before the blonde pulls you into a searing kiss—soft but voracious. And as the both of you part from the warmth of each other’s lips, he whispers against your kiss-bitten lips, “Be a good girl for me and sit on his cock,” his thumb caressing the plush skin as he continues. “And don’t move till I say so.”

His eyes carefully watched your every move as you turned to face your speckled lover before hovering over his rigid shaft that’d been prettily coated in the slickness of his orgasm.

Choppy breaths were now caught in your throat as you eased yourself down onto him—the viridescent-haired man released short, shallow gasps with every inch of him you took before you finally buried him to the hilt, causing him to harshly suck in a breath from the overstimulation.

There’s a faint dip in the bed as Katsuki presses his body close to yours, kneeling on the mattress between Izuku’s legs. You feel the warmth radiate from his muscular frame and his signature caramel scent followed close by, his coarse hands gently kneading at your honey-soft breasts, occasionally flicking at the velvet nubs that center them.

It’s hard not to squirm as the silky touch of a tongue slid over every mark that the blonde left in his wake—your neck and shoulders, nothing but a canvas in his eyes. One of his coarse hands glides down the expanse of your torso—slipping from the soft ampleness of your tits, to tease at your clit. Your body jolts in his hands—eliciting an amused huff from him.

© zujime. all rights reserved. do not translate, copy, modify, repost or claim any of my works on any platform as yours.

[zujime]

helloo if you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you write for jonathan jjba? have a good day, just wondering ^^

i don't mind at all! :) honestly, i think it's because when i first made this account i had recently finished parts 1-4, and because of how boring i thought part one was i feel like that caused me to overlook his character. but i have been thinking about writing for him for like a year and a half because he's just so silly but I've just been too scared to put something out cause i often overthink abt "what if i write him out of character?" yk? tbh, i'd love to write for him now that i think abt it.🤔 anyway tysm for asking! :)))

[zujime]

the vi girlies will eat soon…eventually

i’m tryna get them out the drafts ya’ll i swear💀

[zujime]

─── izuku m. x f!reader

c.w. aged up, reader has female genitalia, some cockwarming, creampie, biting (if you squint), kind of lazy sex, p in v, grinding

note. a little drabble i made a while back :)

It was late. Really, really late and you both had to get up for work first thing in the morning, but you can’t help it. Your husband was all dolled up at the hero gala today with his fresh new haircut and the suit he said he “picked out just for you.” The room was occupied by the many whimpers and moans that left both your lips. He was hardly out of his clothes; suit languidly undone, pretty emerald curls messily sticking to his forehead, and pants hurriedly thrown somewhere in the room but he can’t seem to care as of now when you were sitting so prettily, pussy stuffed full of his cock.

His hands gently holding your waist while he thumbed at your skin, aching to fuck up into you. And you had an arm wrapped around his neck and your other hand on your phone, scrolling through the multiple pictures of you both that’d been taken by the paparazzi. “Look, ‘zuku.” You mewled as you grind down on his painfully hard cock, eliciting a breathy groan from him as he struggled to peer at the glowing screen on your phone. “Look how pretty you look in this picture.” You giggle, flashing him a tired smile that almost makes him cum on the spot.

All he could do was whine in response, both out of pleasure and sheepish flattery. His grip on your waist tightens slightly as he tries not to cum from your torturous rhythm, but he can’t help it—not when you toss the phone somewhere on the bed and start kissing and biting up his neck. His moans are ragged and needy as his hands grab at any part of you he can touch—your ass, thighs, hips, waist, whatever was in reach. Your ears catch his constant messy mumbles of “i’m sorry”. His hips stutter against yours as he fills you, forming a white ring around his cock that soon drips onto his balls.

© zujime. all rights reserved. do not translate, copy, modify, repost or claim any of my works on any platform as yours.

[zujime]

ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to be an unemployed depressed faggot

[zujime]

─���─ astarion a. x f!reader [w.c. 1k]

c.w. no sex, kisses, comfort, fluff, mentions of sex (i think once so minors dni please), astarion not really having a grasp on the emotions he's feeling, established relationship, idk where or when this is taking place...maybe after the epilogue💀

a.n. originally this was supposed to be a smut but i chose not to add that cause i finished playing the game a while ago and didn't want to just make him seem like a sex fiend so, i guess this is fluffy comfort??? wrote it on a plane a bit ago.

Silence. A pleasant silence that’s shared amongst the two of you as you find your perch adequately on the forest’s floor. The air is lavish, yet its earthy scent continues to abide. The night’s azure has never seemed so buoyant—stars glittering its alluring gloom as the serene glow of the moon accentuates both of your features, leaving you content. Though, whilst you revel in the beauty of the night, your undead companion dwells on his despair-riddled anxieties.

He’s unsure of where these feelings emanated, where the ostensibly unending abyss that found its way into his belly derived, but it’s there. Perhaps, not solely fear, but a concoction of unpalatable emotions—still, none that can be properly put into words. He flits glances at you, almost in envy as you remain like you’ve aught but a care in the world while he’s overrun by feelings he can’t even begin to comprehend. Your hands are inches from each other—merely touching—but to his dismay, they aren’t. 

He values your concern—your consideration of his privacy, but at this very moment, he yearns for your warmth—your touch—and he nearly begs for it, but the words get snagged in his throat, and that…feeling, that indescribable feeling he felt before creeps up on him.

Demur? Trepidation? He’s unsure. His forehead creases as he drowns in his thoughts, thoughts that you can virtually hear. “Astarion,” you call out, voice deficient in sonority yet still the changeless melody he’s come to love. You see his achromatic curls sway gingerly as he turns to peer at you with a hum in response. His bewildering, crimson orbs meet your heartfelt ones as you face him.

“Are you alright? I can practically hear your thoughts.” You snicker, yet the sentence remains laced with everlasting care that’s evidently conveyed by your expression. Had he not taken notice of your solicitude, he would’ve blanketed his sentiments behind a pompous remark in hopes of pacifying you, but he noticed and by the look of it, you don’t plan on simply dismissing whatever may be agitating him.

A small noise comes from his gullet—reluctance. “I—I don’t know..” he utters, almost inaudible, though he’s quick to correct himself. “What I mean is… I’m…” his mouth opens just to close as he searches for a word, a word that could properly construe what’s on his mind. However, after what feels like an eternity to him, he finds nothing. Sighing before muttering another, “I don’t know.”

Softly, you smile at him, letting your hand slink closer to his. The cusps of your fingers skimmed his well-kept nails before gradually glissading further—still cautious. He watches—body taut and breathing steady; eyes trained on your palm shrouding his while glancing up at your genial yet attentive eyes.

Your hand finally locates his bleak one, lingering lightly, granting him the opportunity to pull away if need be, but all he does is gawk at your hand over his in crudely repressed awe. It’s almost frivolous—the two of you have held hands before—hells, you’ve even had sex together, but still, the sight, the feeling of you only caressing him is enough to make his heart spur to life. His blood-red eyes are precarious but beholden; grateful that you see him—that you can hear his cries and heed them, even when they’re silent.

The husk of gratitude practically falls from his pinkish-pale lips, but he refrains, instead he tangles his hand with yours, giving it a deft squeeze before exploring your eyes, seeing if you understand his modest gesture. You do, the warm grin that adorns your face grows and shows that more than anything; you understand. And regardless of Astarion generally having something to say, you understand that in plights such as these, the words seem to slip away from him. His lack of experience in such intimacies shows to his discontent, but under your welcoming gaze, he’s all but ashamed. 

His elegant orbs strive to hold your stare, flitting amidst the tree and you—anxious. Your head tips slightly, brows raising as you try to keep his gaze, wordlessly asking “What’s wrong?”. His mouth reluctantly opens purely to close once more as he searches for the proper words. His eyebrows crinkle as he shakes his head somewhat—curls moving with him—before he opens his mouth to speak. “May I…kiss you..my love?” His voice is nearly a whisper—the shell of what his voice once was—and his inquiry is smothered in hesitance. “Is that what you want?” You catechize, not to pester him or belittle him in any way, but to ensure that he wants this.

He chuckles almost, certain of his answer. “Yes, more than anything.” A smile decorates his lips—not smugly or flirtatiously, but fondly; adoringly. His eyes soft and filled to the brim with desire and love. You nod, scooting your body closer to his, hands still interwoven while your free hand tenderly cups the soft skin of his cheek, thumbing at the skin as you take in his grace.

His other hand grasps your wrist gingerly, peering at you before he leans into your touch, letting his eyes fall shut. His breathing coming to a noticeable lull as he waits for the feel of your lips on his. Gradually, you inch your face towards his before closing the gap—before your lips find their place against his. The kiss is a little sloppy but pleasant—warm like a summer’s sun—though, on his end, laced with ambiguity. Not towards you, gods no, but himself rather. He’s kissed more than enough times. What is he possibly unsure of?

Inundating you. The last thing he seeks is to exhaust you with a love that’s been quelled and left to rot for an eternity’s end. He assumes such an influx of intense emotions may seem daunting to you, even after all the absurd things you’ve both dealt with. He’s dubious—not sure if you’ll continue to stick around when these affections are unveiled.

Yet, with a light squeeze from your hand and the compassionate caress of your thumb across his cheek, he caves. Everything embedded within him that was devised to be long forgotten, divulges into the kiss. It remains inept, practically inexperienced, but now it was…devout, filled to the brim with a fondness that’s been obscured for centuries. The palm he kept latched onto your wrist is now firmly planted beside you on the soil as he deepens the kiss with unceasing avidity.

His inhalations up their pace as he inclines further into the kiss, jaded and muffled moans reaching your ears. As lovely as this is, you can hardly breathe. Your head is reeling and it feels like this kiss has gone on for hours, but it’s only been a few seconds.

Astarion’s pale cheek grows cold as you drift your hand down to his chest, pushing him away so you can finally part for air. You’re both gasping for air—more so you than him—but still you giggle and wear that infectious smile he could never get tired of. For once, there’s life—color—in his blanched skin. His cheeks become balmy and tingly with a sensation he’s yet to put a name to.

Once you’ve finally caught your breath, you sigh. “Wow,” you chortle, your grin growing wider by the minute. “I—wow…” he quite literally took the breath out of you—and the words too. “Can you…can you kiss me again?—only if you wa-“ Before you could correct yourself, his lips capture yours anew. They’re gentle this time yet still laden with love. He’s got you in a haze, keeping your attention on his lips as he presses you onto your back, slowly and gently.

His eyelids are heavy, as well as yours as he pulls away. Heated breaths melding with one another. Crimson hues inspect yours for a moment, fanged jaws separating to speak. “Uhm…darling?” He begins, his voice isn’t audibly shaky but his eyes convey his disquiet.

“I want this, I’m sure. If this night becomes one of…well, passion, I know that I would love to indulge in you and all of your allure, but if this does lead to more—would you be alright? H-having sex with me, of course...” he asks in such a hushed tone, as if others were surrounding the two of you.

“Of course, Astarion.” You snicker faintly, nudging a stray spiral behind his pointed ear before cupping his cheek. He feels safe when he’s with you—his home; his sanctuary. He melts in your touch, pliant in your benevolent hands. His lips brush your palm as he turns his head to allot a peck on the skin before stashing his face in the crook of your neck. He has all but the intention of wallowing in the ingratiating taste of your blood. As of now, he simply wishes to cherish you and the time the gods have blessed him with at this moment.

His body abates when he feels you tenderly carding through his hair with your fingers. “Thank you” he emits, prodding at your pulse point with his nose as he finds his place. “For what?” Your tone remained benign but the confusion within it couldn’t be more apparent. Astarion goes mute for a moment, arms bandaging around you tight but not constricting you. “For...everything. I just—I don’t feel pressured, or disgusted when I’m with you,” he’s so quiet—loud enough to hear, but still so quiet, almost as if his voice longs to hide away, but he perseveres.

“With you, I feel…liberated. You view me as—you view me as a person, someone capable of thinking for themselves and not…” he falters for a bit, listening to the rhythm of your heart from your neck before proceeding. “… Not an instrument meant to carry out your bidding or something…along those lines...” His voice is weak, the vocal cracks poorly buried behind his words. “J-just…thank you.” He sighs into your skin and melts when you leave a light peck just below his pointed ear.

The gesture seems to spur him on as his stillness transcends into never-ending pecks on the junction of your neck and collar; slow wet kisses. His hands feel at the plush fabric of your shirt before sliding them beneath it in search of a warm place to shelter his touch-hungry hands. His fangs graze your skin as he kisses it, but never do they puncture you. His touch—though ravenous—is laden with the intent of ensuring something; ensuring that you’re here with him, that you’re real.

His kisses begin to trail up your jaw before snaring your lips. His thumbs rub at your sides as he revels in your serenity. His deathly cold body molds perfectly with your radiant warmth. The lids of his eyes flutter shut as he basks in it, basks in you and all that you do to him.

You make him feel…whole, as if the missing piece in his corroded life had been you and the unending hospitality you grace him with. To you, it’s human decency, but to him…it feels like much more, so much that at times he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Your heat acts as the sun’s rays that he’ll never have the courtesy of feeling on his skin—at least, only in your absence.

He longs to continue savoring your lips for an eternity’s end, longs to withstand the dizzying sensation that comes with it, but he parts—reluctantly. He pulls away and peers at you—at your lips swollen and wet from his, your eyes that gleam back into his, and your face that adorns an expression of pure bliss, something only he can bring upon you. A grin finds its place on your face as you admire him, it’s gentle as you let a hand move to push a stray curl from his face before gently caressing the shell of his pointed ear. He shudders slightly at the feeling, almost letting a pleasurable sigh escape his lips as he rests on you comfortably.