demeterlindavis

[demeterlindavis]

You don’t get to yell at me like that!

[demeterlindavis]

knight in shining helmet | jason todd

Summary: You're a princess who's visiting Gotham City. You weren't loving it to begin with—then you of course had to get kidnapped. Needless to say, your expectations of the night are in hell. You're hoping, at least, that you'll be rescued by the famous Batman. Instead, it's the infamous Red Hood that finds you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x princess!fem!reader 

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings/tags: kidnapping, rescue, reader and jason don't get along at first, violence, drugging, meet-ugly, 7-eleven food as a courting strategy, kissing, softie jason (he always makes an appearance somehow!), strangers to...not-so-strangers.

the divider

You suppose that, for a princess, you ought to have expected a kidnapping to pan out at least once in your life. 

You just didn't think it would happen tonight. In Gotham City. A place you weren't loving to begin with. 

“Unhand me!” you scream as soon as your taker's filthy, sweaty hand leaves your face. “You'll be executed for this!”

You're not actually sure of Gotham's death penalty policy, but you feel like it's something you should throw in. In any case, the three men who've dragged you away, tied you up, and bruised you in the process, should be a little more afraid of getting caught. 

“Batman will find you,” you add. “He'll save me.” You've heard great tales of Gotham's hero. If anyone can help you, it's him. 

That makes one of them pause. But the ringleader sneers at you. “If he finds us. He's got a lot on his plate every night, ya Majesty.”

“I am a priority guest in this city, of course he would—”

“Shut her up,” the leader snaps, and suddenly, you're being gagged. Disgusting. Completely unsanitary. You don’t want to imagine if the gag has ever been washed.

You keep screaming and fighting through the gag until a needle pricks your neck. Your terror spikes as you realize there's suddenly an ultimatum to fear: what if Batman doesn't reach you in time? 

That's your last thought as the drug renders you unconscious. 

When you awaken, it's still nighttime. Nearly pitch black, except for a dim lightbulb in the center of the room. It looks like you're in some kind of warehouse. You can't see much of anything and it makes you claustrophobic. Your head aches and your vision is blurry, and your cheek is pressed against a grimy floor. You just want to go home.

You try to sit up first, but that nearly makes you throw up, and you do not want to throw up through this ratty gag. So you swallow the feeling and close your eyes, waiting until the nausea passes. You open your eyes and they begin to adjust to the darkness. You’re alone, which confuses you.

Then you spot the explosives hooked up at the bottom of your dress.

The good news is that your kidnappers aren’t here. The bad news is that the reason they aren’t here is because they can remotely explode this place and you inside of it. If they don’t get the ransom they’re no doubt demanding, tonight will be your first and last night in Gotham. 

Another thought chills you to your bone: what if the explosives are set to go off whether they get the ransom or not?

You squeeze your eyes shut as the tears come. You’re going to die.

But wait. Maybe not. Surely, Batman is looking for you. And his young, brightly-colored companion. You never understood that color palette choice.

They’ll save you. Your father has no doubt alerted authorities. You’re the most important person in the city tonight! Of course people are looking for you. 

Yes, you’ll be saved, the criminals will be punished to the highest extent of the law, and you’ll be escorted back to your hotel where you can take a long, luxurious bath. That’ll be very nice. 

You’ll also never visit Gotham again, that is for sure. 

The door to the warehouse rolls open with a boom. You flinch and squint, trying to make out the figure. If it’s your kidnapper, you want to act like you’re still asleep. You think you saw that trick in a film at the cinema you snuck out to watch when you were young. You didn’t catch the whole film, though—you were found out by your guards before you could. Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d watched the whole film!

As the figure gets closer, you realize firstly that he’s a lot bigger than your kidnappers. You sigh in relief. Batman.

“‘Lo?” asks a gruff voice. “Anybody here?”

You shout through your gag. You can’t make out a face, but it’s alright. Relief floods you. You’re saved.

Your savior jogs to you. You tilt your head as you make out a… red helmet? With glowing eyes?

Wait a minute.

“Holy shit,” Not-Batman says. He pulls out your gag first. “Y’okay?”

Realization strikes you; you recall a story one of the party guests shared earlier in the night about a crime lord and his terror on Gotham.

"You're that terrible gangster that left a duffle bag of heads!" you blurt.

"In the flesh," he says, tapping the barrel of his gun to his helmet in a salute. Red Hood. “You don’t look very happy to see me, all things considered.”

“I don’t want your help!” you say, wriggling away from him. “I’m in an alliance with The Batman!”

He tilts his head. “‘S that so? What alliance would that be? Beauty Pageant Runaways For Bats?”

“I am not a beauty pageant contestant,” you say hotly. “I am a princess, and I have a small militia looking for me.”

He kneels in front of you, holstering his gun. His one of many, many guns. Your skin itches with sweat and adrenaline as he approaches. Those glowing eyes in his helmet flip your stomach. This is all wrong. You're supposed to be saved by a hero, not an outlaw. A criminal.

“Princess, huh?” Hood nods. “Ah, yeah. I heard somethin’ about that. They took you from the Plaza. Just my luck that I’d run into ya.”

“You mean, you weren’t actively looking for me?” you ask in a small voice. 

“Nope. You’ve got every vigilante and cop in the city looking for you, Your Highness. I came in here ‘cause I smelled motor oil.” 

Now that he’s found you, what does he plan to do?

“Are… are you going to release me?” you ask.

“Depends. Is this place rigged to blow?”

“My dress,” you say, unsure whether you should let him know about the explosives. A man who leaves severed heads in a duffel bag doesn’t seem wrapped up too tightly. 

“Hm?” Hood lifts your skirt slightly. He whistles. “Damn. This is some excellent work. Whoever did this is a pro demolitions expert.”

His praise doesn’t comfort you, oddly enough.

“Is it live?” you ask.

“Doesn’t look like it. And I’ve got a lot of experience with explosives. Just stay still for now.”

Hood squats and pulls out a knife. You shift. He's bigger than you even like this, crouched at your level. His shoulders nearly block your entire view. 

“Who were they?” he asks.

“Who was who?”

“The people that took you.”

“I don't know. They were wearing masks. Three men,” you say, frozen as he takes the knife to your feet.

“Mm.”

Hood begins to cut the ropes around your ankles. You delicately point your feet, unsure if he'll slip and get you. 

Your lip curls. "Where's Batman? Or that boy who works with him? Aren't they in charge of this city? I want to speak to one of them."

“I don’t work for the Bats,” he says, an edge to his words.

“Well, I don’t feel comfortable with you rescuing me,” you say. “You’re a criminal.”

Hood stops cutting and looks at you. "Y'want Batman? Fine. I don't mind letting you wait around for the Bat.”

He pockets the knife and rises, walking out of the warehouse and disappearing. Just like that. Your heart jumps.

"Wait!" you shout, squirming in your binds. "Wait, come back!"

But it's silent. Panic digs its claws into your chest.

"Red Hood! Red Hood, come back! Please!"

You begin to cry out of desperation, tears dripping onto your already soiled dress. You try to pull your feet apart, but the rope isn't cut enough and all you do is worsen the burns around your ankles.

You bow your head and cry onto the floor. You just want to go home. You want your goose feather pillows and Egyptian cotton ten-thousand thread count sheets. More than that, you never want to return to this stupid city.

"Are you cryin'?"

Your head shoots up. Hood stands over you, arms folded. 

"You-you came back," you say, voice wobbly.

He shrugs. "I had an inkling that you had a change of heart, princess.”

You look away. "You left me.”

"I did,” he says. “But as much as you might deserve abandonment, I'm duty-bound to rescue everyone. No matter how obnoxious of a Batman fan they are."

"I'm not a fan. I just didn't want the morally corrupt, violent drug runner to save me."

He leans down and snaps away the ropes from your ankles—a feat of strength that doesn't go unnoticed. Then he saws the ones around your wrists. "Yeah, well, I don't do that anymore, and for such a pretty face, you suck at sweet talking."

He tosses the rope aside and pockets the knife. You rub your wrists and attempt to sit up. This time, you don’t want to throw up. Success! 

“Anything hurt?” he asks. 

“My legs,” you say miserably. 

“Okay, let me rephrase: anything that'll make you bleed out in the next ten seconds?”

“Um… no.”

“Fantastic. I can probably getcha back to your hotel in an hour.” 

You hold out your arms expectantly. He tuts.

“I don’t give hugs until the third kidnapping. Fourth one is free.”

You huff. “You expect me to walk like this? They took my shoes! Gotham is so uncouth.”

“And what am I s’posed to do about that?” Hood asks. “I look like a Payless to you?”

“I don’t know what that is,” you say. “Don’t you vigilantes have a protocol to follow? I cannot possibly walk through this filthy warehouse on my bare feet. I’ll catch a virus! You’ll have to carry me.”

Hood lets out a full-bellied laugh. It’s somewhat eerie through his modulator. You lift your chin, maintaining your composure. 

“Oh my God! Highness, you’re a diamond-encrusted piece of work. I don’t carry anybody unless they’re unconscious and I like ‘em a lot. It’s a short list.”

Your brows furrow. “I’m a guest in your city, and I’ve been kidnapped! The least you can do—”

“The least I can do is leave you to rot here,” Hood says, tone cutting. “Or let your kidnappers come back and finish the job. You aren’t in whatever palace they carted you out of; you’re in fuckin’ Gotham, and if y’want my help, you’re gonna suck it up and walk.”

You look away, tears brimming once more. You sniffle. 

“You don't have to be so mean,” you say, voice watery. “I’ve had a difficult night.” 

It's quiet for a few moments. You've never cried as much as you have tonight, especially not in front of a stranger. A dangerous stranger. 

“...Look, I think I got some spare boots,” Hood finally says. “Stay here.”

“Where would I go?” you mumble. Whether he hears you or not, he doesn’t reply, stalking out of the warehouse. He returns thirty seconds later with a pair of ugly, black, man boots. 

“Used?!” you ask, voice high.

“Lightly, Your Majesty. They’re my spares. Here.”

Hood tosses the boots at you. You stare at them like he’s flung a pair of rats at you. He taps his wrist.

“Time’s a-ticking, princess. I’m on a schedule. I can always let you wait for Batman. He’ll find ya. Eventually.”

So you put on the boots. 

You attempt to stand next, but the drugs and binds have made your limbs weak. You try and fail to get up twice before Hood hooks his arms under yours and hauls you up without a sweat. You squeal, fingers digging into his brown leather jacket. 

He towers over you, doubly intimidating now that you're standing. 

“Got it?” he asks, arms slipping away. 

You definitely don’t have it, and you wobble backward. Hood grabs you again, hand on your back. 

“Whoa. Easy.” Hood cups your face, a little rough. You squirm, mind flooded with all the germs that are probably on his gloves. “Look a'me. Look—stop fighting, Jesus Christ.”

“This is no way to treat a princess!”

“Yeah, I missed that day of training,” he says dryly. “Stay still, I'm tryna see if your pupils are dilated.” 

“Your grip hurts!”

Hood loosens his grip and manages to keep you still long enough to examine your eyes. He hums and lets go.

“Seems like you’re still feeling the effects. Should wear off soon. Now…”

Hood steps back, but not so far that you can’t grab onto him should you fall again. He gives your dress a onceover. 

“So that’s not gonna work.” He takes out his knife again. Your eyes widen. 

“What on earth are you doing with that?” you ask, taking a small step backwards.

“Cutting your dress,” he says, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.

You gasp, backing away. “No you will not!”

“Princess—”

“This dress is one-of-a-kind, handmade for tonight’s gala. You’re not going near it! It cost seventeen thousand euros!” 

“Is it worth more than your life?” Hood snaps. “I don’t have any spare clothes and I’m not dragging a ballgown with three pounds of C-4 attached to it around. You have to be able to move and you have to get on my bike. Now quit whining.”

You sulk as he cuts and tears the bottom layer of your gown. He isn’t as savage about it as you expect: the cut is neat and could even be salvaged in the hands of a good seamstress. The night air makes your legs prickle with goosebumps. Then his words register.

“Bike?” you ask as Hood sets your dress remains aside. You’ll grieve for your dress privately.

“Mmhm.”

“I thought you had a Batmobile.”

“That’s Batman’s car. Hence the name. I have a bike ‘cause I’m a morally corrupt, violent, drug runner.”

Your nose wrinkles. “Can’t we take a taxi? Or call a car service?”

Hood snorts. “No one’s driving to this part of Gotham at this hour. It’s my bike or nothing. Or, of course, you can wait for Batsy.”

He starts walking and you hurry to follow. Hood’s strides are long and you’re unsteady in his too-big boots.

“Can you please slow down? These boots are enormous!”

He doesn’t say anything, but he does slow down, waiting until you catch up before leading you to his bike. It’s a nice motorcycle, you suppose, if you were into that thing. You’ve always thought motorcycles were a stupid risk to take. Being on the road is dangerous enough—why remove the comfort and protection of a car?

Hood’s bike is shiny and cherry red, just like his helmet. He produces a proper motorcycle helmet from nowhere and hands it to you. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask, inspecting the helmet. It looks fairly clean and unused. 

“Hasn’t killed me yet, and I’ve been dead once.”

Is that his idea of a joke?

“You’ll be fine,” Hood says at your silence. “I’ll go slow.”

“Alright,” you say, putting on the helmet. It smells oddly pleasant, like spicy cologne. “Very slow.”

“Yeah, yeah, very slow. C’mon.”

Hood kicks a leg over the bike and straddles it, all muscle memory. His muscles flex as he bends his legs. He pats the space behind him. 

Cautiously, you attempt to do the same, but you soon realize that doing that exact move in a dress is probably not the smartest. You hold onto the seat with both hands instead and clumsily try to fold a leg over. It doesn’t work.

“Yo, Bambi. This century would be good.”

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle!” you say, glaring at the back of his helmet. “You could help me.”

“For fuck's—” 

Hood turns around, grabs the back of your calf, and pulls. Your legs part and you shriek, certain you’re about to flash him. He holds your waist as you flail so that you don’t bang into him as you sit. 

“What is wrong with you?” you hiss, smoothing down your dress.

“Re-lax, I didn’t see anything.”

“This is highly undignified—”

“Yeah, we don't really do dignified in Gotham, princess. Comfy?”

“No.”

“Mm. Hold my waist.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all ya want.” Hood takes your arms and wraps them tightly around his waist. He’s warm and, oddly enough, soft despite his bulk. “You’re drugged and unsteady. If y’don’t hold on, you’re gonna fly off. Press up against me and hold tight.”

“Go slow,” you say again, obediently holding his waist.

“Yeah, I’ll go slow,” he says. 

“Do you promise?”

“Promise.”

Hood turns the ignition. The bike roars to life, louder than you expected. You suck in a breath as he revs the engine and starts off.

True to his word (and what a flimsy word it is), Hood goes slow. He takes gentle, easy turns and breaks at all the stop signs, even though this part of the city is essentially abandoned at this hour. You’re able to study the streets, twinkling streetlights a little too bright to your recovering eyes. But you look anyway, shocked at the dilapidated buildings and uneven pavement. You’re definitely not in the Gotham you were earlier tonight. It hardly looks like the same city.

You turn your attention to your savior. It feels like an odd word to use for the Red Hood, whom you’ve heard enough about tonight. Your father had warned you excessively about what a dangerous area this was, and who exactly made it so dangerous. 

But a savior is exactly what Hood has been to you. You decide that, despite his roughness, he still deserves a good reward. Perhaps a Hoodmobile. Or new boots.

Your rescue is going smoothly until you cross the bridge. That’s when another biker turns onto the road behind you. 

“Shit,” Hood says, and you’re startled that you can hear him so clearly despite the noise. It’s like he’s in your head. “We’re being tailed.”

Well, that’s not good. You turn around briefly but you can’t make out your follower; you’re too scared to move on the bike.

But then you hear the bike behind you speed up. 

“Motherfucker,” Hood says, and speeds up. Your arms tighten into a death grip. 

“Hold on,” he says, like you'd do anything otherwise. 

Hood speeds up and takes a sharp left turn. You tense and yelp, squeezing your eyes shut. He takes several winding turns and you keep your eyes shut through all of them. The nausea has returned and you’d prefer not to ruin the inside of his helmet with your stomach contents.

“We lose him?” he asks when the road levels off and it doesn’t feel so much like you’re on a rollercoaster.

“Um…” you begin, and chance turning around.

It’s clear for a few seconds until…

Well, to echo Hood’s sentiment: motherfucker.

“He’s there!” you yell, and Hood growls.

“The helmets are mic’d, you don’t have to shout,” he says, leaning into a left turn. 

“I see him!” you say, and grab one of Hood’s holstered guns. He scrambles to grab it but misses, surprise slowing him down.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!”

You ignore him and take off the safety. Moving your free arm up to Hood’s neck, you fire. He curses up a storm, throwing in a few words you’ve never even heard. 

The shots go wide; one dents a parked car, and one hits a stop sign. 

“You’re fuckin’ nuts!” Hood yells and snatches the gun out of your hand. 

But your tail falls back, evidently spooked enough by you and your poor aim. He turns on a side street and disappears.

“He’s gone! We’ve lost him!” you say happily. 

“Are you insane?” 

You wince at his volume. “The helmets are mic’d, you know.”

“You’re so—”

Hood cuts himself off and pulls sharply onto the sidewalk. He dismounts and pushes the kickstand down hard. Then he turns to you, chest heaving.

“Don’t ever fucking do that again. Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten us killed!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” you ask, putting out your arms. “We lost him!”

“No, we didn’t. All we did was throw him off our trail a little. We gotta walk the rest of the way now because he probably fell back to get more guys to follow us. But that’s not the point: what you did was insanely risky and stupid. You don’t know how to use a gun and you could’ve hurt yourself.”

You stay silent, chewing on his words. Hood isn’t wrong, he’s just… loud about it.

“Do you understand me?” he snaps. 

You don't reply. 

“I need a yes.”

“...I wanted to help.”

Hood sighs. “Yeah, well… just don’t. I’m good at what I do and I’ll get you back in one piece. But you gotta trust me.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. You feel small, but you don't want to cry in front of him again and confirm that you really are just a spoiled, whiny princess. “I'm sorry, Red Hood.”

You sit down on the curb, feeling exhausted. Tonight is awful. 

It's quiet for a long moment. Then Hood says, “Don't cry.”

Your jaw works as you swallow hard. “I'm not.” You turn your head so he won't see.  

“Christ on toast,” he mumbles above you. “This is exactly why I don't do rescue missions—”

You sniffle. “I'm not crying.”

“—’Cause I'm the world's biggest asshole,” he finishes, voice miles softer. 

Hood sinks onto the curb next to you. He scoots in just enough so that your shoulders brush against each other. 

“Look, ‘m a jerk. The Bats are better at handling civilians and being nice. You got the potty mouth with a bad attitude.” 

You rub your eyes. “I don't like yelling.” 

“Yeah,” Hood says quietly. “Okay. I'll try not to yell unless you're in immediate danger. But you can’t pull stunts like that. Deal?”

You nod. “I won't fire any more of your guns.”

He snorts. “Yeah, no kidding. Where’d you learn how to shoot, anyway? I mean, y’didn’t do it well, but you did it. Not half-bad for your first time in Gotham.”

“My father wanted me to learn gun sports,” you say. “I learned how to take the safety off and point and shoot, but I refused to do any more lessons after my instructor shot a duck for target practice. I think guns are uncivilized and destructive, and I don’t condone killing animals for sport.”

“Uncivilized unless you're getting tailed by kidnappers?” You think you detect a smile in his question. 

“Everything has its exceptions,” you say primly. 

“Ain't that the truth. C'mon, we should get moving. We're, ‘scuse the saying, sitting ducks out here.”

Hood stands first and offers you a hand. You take it, letting him pull you up. He does that so easily. It makes your spine tingle. 

“How far are we from my hotel?” you ask.

“‘Bout two miles. If I had my gear I'd call for an assist,” he says apologetically. “Wasn’t planning to save lost princesses tonight.”

“I don't suppose there's any chance that you'll carry me, is there?”

“Pretty and funny,” Hood says. “You're the whole package, beauty queen.”

Your snarky reply is cut off by your stomach growling. Your eyes widen. 

“Pardon me,” you say, mortified. 

“What, ‘cause you're hungry?” Hood asks. “‘S a normal human condition.”

“You don't know anything about royal manners,” you say, but you're relieved. Your father would give you a tight, deadly look if you were hungry in public. 

“No, I really don't. Born and bred Gotham, baby.” 

“Showing any signs of hunger or thirst around company is highly undignified,” you say. 

“Being a princess sounds exhausting.”

No arguments there. 

Hood starts walking. You scramble to follow, and he seems to remember your shorter stride and slows down. 

“There's a pretty decent 7-Eleven nearby,” he says. “I'd take ya to my favorite diner, but we're on a tight schedule. Those guys won’t be far behind.”

“A seven and eleven? Oh, I've heard of those!” you say. 

“I’m… glad you're so excited about convenience stores?”

“I saw it in a film once. My father didn’t catch me watching this one. It looked so rugged, eating in a convenience store and fighting crime afterward. I've never been to one.”

“I know I shouldn't be surprised considering how much your dress cost but it does kinda blow my mind that you've never tasted anything but the finest cuisine,” Hood says. “Wait, did you say your dad didn’t catch you?”

You hum. “He doesn’t like me watching films that aren’t pre-approved.”

“Wow. Y’know, I could pirate you some movies if y’want. I know a great website for it.”

You laugh. “That’s alright. I manage to sneak out to the cinema more than I used to, now that he’s older.”

“Pretty sneaky, beauty queen.” He sounds impressed. 

You shrug, trying to hide your pride. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

You turn on the corner and he leads you through a residential area. A few people outside of their apartments stare at you, but when they see Hood, they relax. 

“Red!” a little boy shouts from a fire escape. He waves excitedly. Hood waves back.

“Hope you’re listening to your ma,” Hood calls to him, mock-stern. To anyone else—to you—it would be unnerving. 

But the boy grins. “I am!”

“Then why aren't ya in bed, huh?” 

The boy shrugs. “Not tired. Who's the lady?”

“The lady is a princess, so be nice,” Hood says.

“Whoa!” The boy gapes at you. You wave at him and he jumps up from the window. 

“Mom!” he yells. “Red Hood found a princess!”

You giggle as Hood leads you away. 

He shakes his head. “Kids.” He sounds terribly fond. 

You stare at his back for a moment. 

“They like you,” you say. “You keep them safe. But you're also a friend.”

“Helps to earn their trust,” he says gruffly. 

You walk a little more in silence. 

“I was wrong about you, Hood,” you say. He doesn't look at you. 

“Lotta people are. Nothin’ new.” 

No, it probably isn't. 

“‘Kay, here we are. C’mon. We gotta be fast, alright?”

“Alright,” you say, following him into the 7-Eleven. 

“Hey, Benny,” Hood says to the tired cashier behind the counter.

Benny nods. “Long night?”

“You got no idea.” He gestures to you. “She’s a princess.”

“Sweet,” Benny says. “What’s up?”

“How do you do?” you say politely. 

Hood leads you to the rolling hot dogs and other cylindrical foods under the heat lamps. You frown.

“I have had a hot dog before,” you say. “I’m not that sheltered.”

“Yeah, but have ya had a buffalo ranch roller? My brother and I used to get these after patrol. That with a blue raspberry slushie? Heavenly after getting thrown into a dumpster.”

“Well, you’ve gotten me this far, so I suppose I’ll trust you,” you say.

“I’m flattered. Benny, my usual.”

Benny gives a thumbs-up and puts the ‘roller’ in a paper bag. Meanwhile, Hood takes you to the back where the slushie machine is. You watch as he fills a plastic cup with electric blue sludge. Your brows raise.

“Why is it that color?” you ask.

“Tasty chemicals,” Hood says cheerily. “It won’t kill ya, I promise.”

“That would be counterintuitive at this point,” you say. 

“I appreciate your faith in me, princess.”

You return to Benny, who rings up the food. “Five twenty-seven.”

Hood looks at you expectantly. You look at him.

“What?” you ask.

“This is the part where you pay,” he says.

“A princess never carries money on her person,” you say, like it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard.

“You–” Hood looks at Benny and sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”

He pays and you take your treats, trotting out the door. 

“Thank you, kind sir!” you say as Hood waves. 

“See ya, Ben.”

You hold out your slushie for Hood to take while you work on your fried goodie.

“I’m not a cupholder,” he says, but he takes the cup anyway.

“It’s warm!” you say, delighted. “Let me take a bite.”

Hood patiently waits as you bite and chew. You hum.

“Good?” he asks.

“I like it,” you say. “It’s unusual. Is this chicken?”

“So they say,” Hood says. “Try the slushie.”

You take the cup and first take a small sip. It’s cold and sweet and slightly sour and probably full of enough sugar to rot your teeth out of your head. You love it.

“This is wonderful,” you say. 

He laughs. “Yup. Told ya, nothin’ like this combo. It’s a classic. C’mon, let’s get moving.”

You walk and eat, and it definitely improves your night, having something in your belly. 

“This is just like Roman Holiday,” you say.

Hood snorts. “I don’t think we watched the same movie.”

“It has a likeness. You’re Gregory Peck.”

“Yeah, sure. If Gregory Peck was a street fighter, then yeah. I’m Greg fuckin’ Peck.”

“No, you’re right. You’re much younger than he was in that movie. How old are you?” you ask.

“Twenty-four.”

“Really? Why are you doing this?”

“Took a career test.”

You bump his shoulder. “Seriously, Hood. You’re young. You’ve so much potential. I can tell that you’re smart.”

“Maybe I like doing this,” he says.

You tut, shaking your head. “That’s ridiculous. You could do more. Be more.”

“You’re just fulla charm, aren’t ya?” Hood says. 

Your next step is hesitant. Hood keeps walking. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” you say. “I guess I assumed…”

“Yeah, I know. You assume a lot, princess. And you’re wrong.”

“You made assumptions about me! You thought that I was stupid and naive and I’m not.”

Hood stops, turns. “Maybe I like doing what I do, huh? Ever think of that? I meant it when I said I’m not a criminal anymore. I help people.”

“I know that,” you say quietly. “I see how the citizens treat you. They like you. You care for them greatly. I just… I just meant that you could try new things too. If you wanted to.”

He’s quiet for a bit. You keep walking. 

“I didn’t think you were stupid,” he eventually says.

You scoff. “Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t. Yeah, I thought you were a little… sheltered. But you’re smart. You’re certainly tougher than your dad gives you credit for.”

You roll your eyes. “He still thinks I’m six years old. It takes me getting kidnapped to see a city.”

“Pretty shitty tour.”

You smile behind his back. “Oh, I don’t know. The tour guide is alright.”

Hood stops. When he doesn’t speak, you approach.

“Hood?”

He suddenly puts a hand over your mouth and drags you backwards into an alleyway. Your yelp is muffled. Hood puts a finger to where his mouth would be under his helmet.

That’s when you hear voices.

“—single fuckin’ clue. She could be in the fuckin’ Atlantic by now. Halfway to China!”

“China’s on the other side, dumbass.”

You look up at Hood, eyes wide. 

Those are your kidnapper’s voices.

He seems to understand and nods. He squeezes your arm and removes his hand from your mouth. He points to himself and points outside, then points to you and points down. 

You assume that means stay put and don’t try to shoot anyone with his gun. You can take a hint.

Hood slinks out of the alley. You peek your head out to look, curiosity overtaking fear. Besides, you trust Hood. You figure with a reputation like his, he can more than handle his own. 

“Nice night, ain’t it?” he says. 

The two men turn, looking close to pissing themselves. Good.

“Hood, we weren’t doing nothin’!” one says.

“Yeah, Ricky and I are clean!”

“Oh, really? So you had nothing to do with the kidnapping of a certain visiting princess.”

“We was nowhere near the Plaza!” Ricky cries.

The other elbows his friend. Before you can blink, Hood has them both down on the ground, pistols pointed at their necks. 

“You were gonna hurt her,” Hood says, and now there’s no trace of humor in his voice. “That poor, sweet princess. Strapping C-4 to her like a fuckin’ bank vault. Drugging her, tying her up. You fuckin’ animals.”

“It wasn’t our idea, it was Bobby’s!” Ricky cries. 

“Shut up, Ricky!”

A shot rings out and you flinch. Ricky starts sobbing. Red seeps from his leg.

“The only reason I’m not killing you two right now is because I want a word with your boss. But make no mistake.” Hood leans in. “You’ll pay for hurting the princess. I’ll make sure of it.”

With two final hits, Hood knocks them out cold. The sudden silence is loud. 

He looks at you then, those eerie eyes glowing. He beckons you out. You go. 

You look down at the unconscious bodies. “You don’t have to kill them.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’d rather you didn’t. You shouldn’t have that on your conscience.”

“They kidnapped you. They would’ve hurt you had their boss ordered it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I don’t want you to bear that burden, Hood.”

“‘S not a burden,” he says, gently taking your wrist. Your eyes fly open. “If it’ll make you feel better, safer, anything. It’s no burden.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, frightened at how pleased a part of you is at his words.

“I’ll tie ‘em up and send for ‘em when we get back. One second.”

You watch as Hood drags their bodies into the alley like they’re sacks of feathers. He handcuffs them to a drainpipe and ties their feet and gags them. 

“So they can see what it feels like,” Hood says, dusting his hands. You can’t help your small smile. 

“Ready?” he asks.

You look up at the starless sky, suddenly exhausted. Your limbs feel like lead. “I guess so.”

Hood looks into the distance, then back at you. He sighs.

“Climb on my back.”

You blink. “Pardon me?”

“You’re pardoned.” Hood shrugs. “I can tell you’re tired. We don’t have far to go.”

“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask. “All that way…”

“Princess, I’m honestly offended. I once carried Batman and my brother to Bludhaven. I’m more than capable.”

“But what about your rule?” you ask. “About carrying people.”

“Turns out you’re not so bad,” he says. “Get on ‘fore I change my mind.”

So you climb onto Hood’s back. He secures you easily, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Don’t choke me out,” he says. “Otherwise we’re both goin’ down.”

You smile and relax on his back. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

At first, it feels like an eternity, waiting for the familiar Plaza sign. You can’t complain, though: Hood is warm and being carried by him is even better than riding on his bike. 

You blink, startled at the thought. What are you even talking about? This is the Red Hood. You were terrified of him a few hours ago. 

And yet, the rhythmic bumping and Hood’s solid figure lulls you to sleep. You don’t even realize until you’re being nudged and a voice pulls you back to consciousness. 

“Hey.”

You’re gently jostled awake. You blink blearily, yawning into Hood’s shoulder.

Oh. Right. You’re on his back.

“Hm?” 

“Ride ends here,” he says. “We’re at the Plaza.”

“Oh.” Sleepily, you try to climb off. Hood sets you on your feet. Embarrassment fills you as you become more awake.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. You could’ve woken me! I—”

Hood holds up a hand. “Hey, chill out. ‘S fine. You had a long night, I get it.”

“Right. I, um…” You look up at the hotel. The top floor windows disappear in the layer of fog that’s settled over the city. You wonder what Hood’s windows look like. 

“I’m gonna track down your main kidnapper and make sure they don’t hurt anyone else. I’ll kick his ass, at the very least.”

You look at Hood, blinking. “Oh. That’s very nice of you, thank you.”

He shrugs. “‘S my job.”

You nod clumsily. “Right, of course. I could give you something in return, though. Money or, um, firearms. A car, perhaps?”

He snorts. You smile shyly. 

“Cute,” he says, but he’s not being mean. “No, that’s okay. I’m pretty set, actually. Doing what I do is surprisingly lucrative.”

“Surely there’s something—”

“Seriously, princess, no charge.”

You bite your lip. Is this too bold? Yes, definitely.

“What about a kiss?”

At first, you think Hood hasn’t heard you. Then he turns to face you in a way that tells you no, he definitely heard you. 

“Ex-cuse me?”

“Um.” You scratch your neck. “Well, princesses kiss their knights goodbye, don’t they?” you ask, but it’s weak. It’s stupid. You’re so young.

You think he’s going to just walk away. That would be the kindest thing to do in response to your blunder.

“I’m sorry, forgive me. That was a terrible joke,” you blurt.

“No, it wasn’t.”

He steps forward, close enough to kiss you if he didn’t have the helmet. You look up at him, heart pounding.

“Wasn’t terrible or wasn’t a joke?” you ask, blood roaring in your ears.

Hood’s quiet. 

“Haven’t done much kissing, to be honest with ya,” he finally says, not answering your question. 

You shake your head. “Nor I.”

“Mm. And y’wanna kiss me? Don’t offer ‘cause you think you owe me.”

“I want to kiss you, Hood.”

He tilts his head. “Y’wouldn’t be kissing a knight. More like kissing a toad.”

You frown. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m no Greg Peck. And I’m no hero either.”

“Do you give this speech to everyone who wants to kiss you?”

“You’re the first one who’s wanted to,” he says.

You inhale sharply. “Oh.”

“Uh-huh.”

You wait. He waits. You both wait for the other to back out. You don’t. Neither does he.

“Can’t believe a princess wants to kiss me,” he mumbles.

And then he covers your eyes with his hand.

You blink, lashes sweeping over his glove. You hear a click, then a hiss of air. His helmet hits the ground with a dull thud. 

Hood gingerly holds your chin with his free hand. You keep your eyes closed even though he’s covering them, out of respect.

His mouth is warm and so, so gentle. You barely feel his lips at first, so you press a little harder. Hood doesn’t know what to do with his mouth, resting it on yours, so you take the lead, following what you’ve seen others do and what you’ve watched on television.

You reach up and hold his face. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. You stroke his stubbled jaw, feel strong cheekbones and the ends of curls above his ears. 

“Your Highness? Your Highness!”

The hand leaves your face so quickly, your eyes stay closed for a second longer, slow to react. Then you open your eyes and see the empty street.

Your lips tingle with heat. It’s all noise around you, policemen and your guards flitting around you, asking questions, alarmed by your torn dress. 

You exhale, disappointment overtaking you.

Your father is in front of you, taking your wrists. “Can you hear me? Doctor, I need a—”

“I’m fine,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m alright, Father.”

He exhales and pulls you into a hug. It startles you. He pulls away before you can hug him back.

“I am so glad you’re alright,” he says. “The police say they saw a figure with you. Who was that? Was he your kidnapper?”

“No, not at all,” you say, staring out into the street beyond. Your lips are buzzing. “He was my hero.”

[demeterlindavis]

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

[demeterlindavis]

A Gilded Cage

The penthouse you're in is beautiful, the closet filled with the finest clothes, the kitchen stocked with your favorite foods, the only problem is; you never asked for this. The Arkham Knight doesn't seem to care. CW: Kidnapping, unhealthy relationship

A Gilded Cage

A Glimmering Collar

A Golden Chain

Rambles Tag

[demeterlindavis]

Don't Look at Me Like That [18+]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader. Summary: You get stuck in an awkward position in a very tight space and Bucky's dick decides it's a good time to get hard. Themes/Warning: Comedy Smut, forced proximity. Oral sex - Male Receiving. Guided Deep throating. A/N: Hah......to have your throat ruined by bucky ;_;

@classicrebound can you guess what inspired this? LOL

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bucky groaned as the door of the janitor’s closet clicked shut, trapping the two of you inside.

The Avengers’ compound was massive—thousands of square feet of pristine, state-of-the-art design, but you and Bucky had somehow found yourselves stuck in the one claustrophobic, cramped janitor’s closet with a broken door handle.

“Move your stupid foot,” you muttered, glaring up at him.

“I can’t move anywhere, doll. There’s no room,” he snapped back, looking like he was trying very hard not to elbow you in the face as he shifted.

He wasn’t lying. There was barely enough space for one person, let alone two. Your shoulders were pressed against shelves full of cleaning supplies, and your knees were almost touching the floor, awkwardly bent as you knelt in front of Bucky.

“Why didn’t you wait until I finished grabbing the damn broom?” he complained, glowering down at you.

“Because I needed it!” You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “You were taking forever, and— Look, I’m sorry, okay? Just… help me up.”

Bucky tried shifting again, but with the tight space and the way your body was jammed into the corner, it was impossible. “You’re wedged in there like a sardine. I’m gonna have to—”

“Just move!” you snapped, tugging at his belt for leverage.

The sudden force made him stumble forward. You yelped as his hips knocked into you, and you lost your balance, falling forward—right into the worst possible position imaginable.

“Whoa—! What the hell?” Bucky’s voice came out in a strangled yelp as you braced yourself on his thighs, your face now directly level with his crotch. You looked up at him, scowling.

“I swear, Barnes, if you don’t—”

But the words died on your lips when you met his gaze. His chest heaved with the effort of keeping his balance, and his hands hovered uncertainty in the air as if he didn’t know what to do with them. The tension in his face slowly turned into something else as he looked down at you.

You blinked up at him, your annoyance fading as his expression shifted. His blue eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel the air change between you—growing thicker, heavier.

“Bucky…?” you asked, voice softening as you looked up at him, noticing his breathing had gone ragged.

He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat working visibly. 

“Doll,” he managed to croak out, his voice strained.

“What?” You frowned, looking at him in confusion.

“I—” He glanced down at you, his gaze darting to your lips before flicking back to your eyes. His nostrils flared, and he shifted awkwardly. “You… gotta stop looking at me like that.”

You furrowed your brow. “Like what?”

“Like—” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before looking down at you again, his cheeks flushed. “Like you’re about to… you know.”

Your eyes widened, and it took a second for his words to register. 

“Wait… What?! I’m not—!” You pulled back slightly, trying to put distance between you, but it only made things worse.

Because that’s when you noticed it. The growing, unmistakable bulge in his jeans, right in front of your face.

“Oh my God, Bucky,” you gasped, your voice a mix of shock and disbelief. “Are you— Are you getting hard right now?!”

His face flushed crimson. “I— No! I mean— I don’t know! You’re the one kneeling in front of me like— like—”

“Like what, Barnes?” you demanded, eyes narrowing. “Like I’m about to— Oh my God!” 

You threw your hands up in frustration, accidentally brushing against his thighs in the process. His breath hitched, and you pulled your hands back like you’d been burned. 

“Stop it!”

“I’m trying!” he hissed back, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper. “You’re making it worse, dammit!”

“What do you mean I’m making it worse?” you snapped, staring up at him in disbelief. “You’re the one getting turned on in a janitor’s closet!”

“I’m not doing it on purpose!” he growled, his hands flexing at his sides. “You keep looking up at me like that, and I— I don’t know, okay? It just— happens!”

“Stop saying it happens!” you squeaked, your face heating up as you looked at the bulge right in front of you. “Just— make it go away!”

“I can’t!” Bucky barked, his eyes wild with frustration. “I’m not a damn magician!”

“Then just think of something!” you snapped, voice rising. “Think of— of— I don’t know, dead puppies or—”

“That’s not helping!” he yelled, his voice cracking in a way that would have been hilarious if it weren’t for the very real problem growing in front of you.

“Then stop thinking about me!” you shouted back, your voice a panicked whisper.

“You think I’m doing this on purpose?” His eyes narrowed, his gaze dark and dangerous. “I can’t stop it, okay? It’s a reflex!”

“Reflex?!” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “What kind of reflex?”

“The kind that happens when someone’s looking up at you like they’re about to—” He cut himself off with a groan, rubbing a hand over his face. “God, this is the worst.”

“I’m not looking at you like that!” you protested, shaking your head furiously. “I’m looking at you like you’re a goddamn idiot!”

“Well, your face is saying something else!” he shot back.

“What’s it saying?” you demanded.

“Like you’re about to— I don’t know—” He faltered, his eyes darting down to your lips and then back up. “Like you want to—”

“Oh my God, stop it!” You covered your face with your hands, utterly mortified. “Just— Stop getting turned on, okay?!”

“I’m not trying to!” he groaned, dropping his head back against the wall. “Christ, do you think I want to be stuck in a closet with a hard-on right now?”

“Then do something about it!” you yelled, glaring up at him.

“I can’t just tell it to go away!” he yelled back.

“Then tell yourself to go away!” you shouted.

“Where the hell am I gonna go, Y/N?!” he yelled back, throwing his hands up. “We’re stuck in a goddamn closet!”

The two of you fell silent, glaring at each other. Bucky was breathing hard, his chest heaving with every breath, and you were trying very hard not to look at the problem that was still very much in your line of sight.

“This is insane,” you finally muttered, shaking your head. “Just— take deep breaths or something. Think. . .Think of Steve in a Speedo!”

Bucky made a face. “Why would I think of Steve in a Speedo?”

“Because it’ll kill the mood!” you shot back. “Just do it!”

Bucky sighed heavily but nodded. He closed his eyes, muttering to himself as he took slow, deep breaths. “Steve… in a Speedo… Steve… in a Speedo…”

You waited, watching his face closely. After a few long moments, his shoulders relaxed slightly, and his breathing steadied. He opened one eye and glanced down at you.

“Better?” you asked cautiously.

“Yeah.” He let out a long, relieved breath. “Better.”

“Good.” You nodded. “Great. So, can we get out of here now?”

“I’ll try the door again,” he muttered, reaching for the handle. But when he moved, he shifted just slightly forward—and the bulge that was supposed to be gone brushed against your shoulder.

You froze.

Bucky’s eyes flew open.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you shrieked. “Bucky, stop it!”

“I can’t!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the tiny closet.

“Why can’t you just—”

“I don’t know! You’re the one who’s all— all down there, and—”

“Stop saying I’m down here like I’m doing something else!” you screamed back, face burning. “Just— I don’t know— stop thinking about my face!”

“I’m trying!” he yelled back. “But you keep looking up at me like—”

“Like what?!” you demanded. “Like I want to blow you or something?!”

“Yes!” he shouted, then slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening in horror.

The closet fell silent.

You stared up at him, mouth hanging open in shock. “Bucky… did you just—”

“I didn’t mean—!” he spluttered, turning even redder. “I mean— I just— Oh God—”

“Oh my God, this is— This is the worst,” you whispered, covering your face with your hands again. “This is literally the worst.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, sounding utterly miserable. “It really is.”

The two of you sat there in stunned silence, the reality of the situation sinking in. Bucky was still very much hard, you were still very much kneeling, and neither of you could move an inch.

“…So, how long do you think it’s gonna take for this to… y’know… go away?” you asked hesitantly, still crouched awkwardly on your knees. You shifted a little, trying to get comfortable, but every slight movement made your face closer to the obvious problem in Bucky’s jeans.

“I don’t know, okay?” Bucky muttered, his voice dripping with frustration. “Just… don’t look at it.”

“Look at what?” you asked innocently.

“My… my—DICK.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a second as if to gather his composure. “Just… stop looking at my dick!”

You blinked up at him, eyes wide with feigned confusion. “I’m not looking at anything.”

“Yes, you are!” Bucky hissed, gesturing at his crotch. “You’re staring right at it, doll. I can feel your eyes on me.”

You glanced at the bulge again and then back up to his flushed face. 

“Oh, this?” you asked, pointing at it like it was a random spot on his jeans. “Sorry. Didn’t realise I was staring.”

“Y/N…” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

“What?” You shrugged, doing your best to keep a straight face. “It’s kind of hard to not notice, y’know?”

“Just—” Bucky exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose with his metal fingers. “Just stop. Stop looking at the dick. Stop talking about it. Just… stop it.”

“Fine, fine.” You nodded and turned your head away, doing your best to ignore his predicament. But after a few seconds of awkward silence, your eyes involuntarily drifted back.

And there it was—still very much… present.

“Y/N!” Bucky growled, his voice strained. “Stop looking at it!”

“I’m sorry!” you blurted out, throwing your hands up in a helpless gesture. “It’s just— it’s right there, and it’s not going away!”

“Well, you’re not helping by staring!” he snapped, his voice a mix of irritation and something else—something that sounded suspiciously like desperation.

“Okay, well, maybe…” You hesitated, biting your lip as you considered your options. This was already the most awkward situation you’d ever been in, but if it wasn’t going away…

“Maybe what?” Bucky demanded, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously. “Don’t even—”

“Maybe I should just…” You waved your hand in a vague motion, indicating the space in front of you. “Y’know… help or something?”

Bucky’s entire body went rigid. 

“Help?” he repeated slowly, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, feeling a wicked smile tug at the corners of your lips. “Yeah… I mean, it’s not going away, right? So maybe if I just—”

“And what?!” Bucky interrupted, looking both horrified and intrigued. “What are you saying, Y/N?”

“And maybe if I…” You pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek suggestively, your eyes dropping down to the bulge again. You heard Bucky’s breath hitch, and you had to suppress a grin as his gaze darkened.

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice a low growl. “Don’t you dare.”

You tilted your head, looking up at him through your lashes. “What? I’m just trying to help. You said you couldn’t get rid of it, so…”

“So what?!” Bucky’s voice was almost hysterical now, and he shifted on his feet still not knowing what to do with his hands. “You think— You think you can just—”

“I mean…” You leaned in slightly, your cheek brushing against his thigh as you moved closer, your lips dangerously close to the outline of his jeans. “If it’ll get us out of here faster…”

“Y/N, don’t.” Bucky’s voice was strained, his hands coming up to hover uncertainty in the air as if he wanted to push you away but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. “I’m serious. This isn’t—”

“Isn’t what?” You raised an eyebrow, pressing your tongue against your cheek again in that infuriatingly suggestive way. “What do you want me to do, Bucky?”

“Not that!” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. “Just— Jesus, Y/N—”

“What?” You tilted your head, batting your lashes up at him. “It’s not going away on its own. And you said it’s my fault, right?”

Bucky groaned, his head dropping back against the wall with a soft thunk. “You’re gonna drive me insane, you know that?”

You bit back a laugh. 

“So, should I…?” You trailed off, your eyes flicking pointedly to his crotch again.

“No,” he growled, his jaw clenching.

“Just trying to be helpful,” you murmured, smirking up at him.

“Helpful, my ass,” he muttered, but his gaze dropped to your lips, and his expression softened for just a split second.

You tilted your head slightly, your lips curving into a mischievous smile. “You sure you don’t want my help, Sergeant?”

His breath hitched again, and for a second, you thought he might actually say yes. But then he shook his head violently, squeezing his eyes shut.

“No,” he muttered, his voice rough. “No, I— We’re not doing this. Not here.”

You sighed dramatically, sitting back on your heels. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

Bucky let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you.”

“But you know…” You leaned in again, your breath ghosting over the front of his jeans as you looked up at him with a wicked grin. “If you change your mind—”

“Y/N!” he groaned, his voice breaking. “I swear to God, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” You grinned, thoroughly enjoying his torment. “Push me away?”

“I—” He faltered, his gaze darting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “I—”

“Didn’t think so,” you murmured, pressing your tongue against your cheek one last time. He let out a tortured groan, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“You’re evil,” Bucky muttered, his voice low and rough.

“And you’re still hard,” you teased, eyes drifting down to the very obvious bulge in his jeans.

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?” he shot back, his voice strained, his gaze boring down at you.

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Guess you’ll just have to suffer, then.”

Bucky let out a long, tortured breath, his head falling back against the wall. His shoulders heaved as he struggled to keep himself under control. It was endearing, really—seeing the big, bad Winter Soldier at a loss for words, his composure unravelling inch by inch.

“I— I mean it, Y/N.” His voice was a mix of a plea and a warning now, and you felt a rush of satisfaction ripple through you. “Don’t… don’t mess with me like this.”

“Mess with you?” you murmured softly, leaning closer, the space between you narrowing. “Who said I was messing with you?”

He stilled, his jaw clenching as you brushed your cheek against the front of his jeans. You heard him suck in a breath, and when you tilted your head up to look at him, you saw the raw, unfiltered desire in his eyes.

“Doll…” He swallowed hard, his voice coming out rough and gravelly. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, lips curving into a slow, wicked smile. “Like I’m about to do this?”

Before he could fake his protest, you reached up, your fingers lightly tracing the outline of his length firmly through his jeans. Bucky let out a low groan, his hips jerking at the contact.

“Shit,” he hissed, his head falling back against the wall.

You hummed softly, applying more grip to the fabric. He was so thick and hard beneath the denim, and the heat of him seared through the fabric. You ran your thumb along his length, pressing against the tip slightly, and Bucky let out a ragged moan, his hips twitching again.

“Want more, Sergeant?” you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes. “Want me to touch you properly?”

“Jesus—Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his voice breathless, “Just do it.”

With your deft fingers you unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans, pulling down freeing him from the constraint of his clothing. He sprang free, thick and hard, the tip flushed and glistening. You wrapped your hand around him, though your hand couldn’t fully envelope him.

“God, you’re big,” you murmured softly, giving a slow stroke from base to tip. Bucky shuddered, a low, needy moan escaping his lips.

“Doll, I—” His voice was rough and breathless, his hands hovering at his sides, watching you. “Just like that. Nice and slow. I want to feel every inch of your hand.”

“Yeah? Does it feel good?” you murmured, gripping him with your other hand. You ran your thumb over the sensitive head, smearing the precum that had gathered there, and Bucky let out a ragged groan, his hips bucking involuntarily.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growled, his hand sliding down to your chin, tilting your head up further. “Look up at me, doll. Want to see those eyes on me while you make me feel so fucking good.”

You stared up at him, your gaze locking onto his as your hands continued to pump his hardened length, your hand slick with precum as you moved faster, firmer. Bucky let out a choked moan, his hips thrusting into your grip as he lost himself in the sensation. 

“Like that, Sergeant?” you asked softly, twisting your wrist at the end of each stroke. “You can’t even fit in my hands.”

“God, yes—” he muttered, “Your hand feels so fucking good. But you know what I really want?”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips parting slightly as you looked up at him. “What’s that, Sergeant?”

“I wanna feel that mouth on me,” He murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip before gently pressing it into your mouth, your eyes locked with his as you slowly wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking it seductively, “I want to come into your mouth and you swallow every drop of me.”

“Mhm, yes please.” You moaned softly, your breath hitching as his words sent a rush of heat straight to your core, making you undeniably wet under your skirt.

“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “You like that, huh? Like the idea of me using that pretty mouth? You gonna let me fuck that throat until it hurts, doll?”

“Hmm…” You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of him before pulling back, your gaze never leaving his. “Yes can you fuck my mouth good, Sergeant?”

“Holy shit—” 

You leaned forward again, your lips brushing against his tip as you gave him a slow, teasing lick. Bucky’s hips jerked involuntarily again, as he was not expecting this, accidentally forcing his cock further into your mouth. You just smiled around him and worked on the head of his cock, the tip of your tongue tracing the grooves of the head of his penis. You slurped your way to the tip and suckled on the head for a minute, keeping him in your mouth as you nursed on it. You worked your way down to his balls, and took one and then the other in your mouth, and started the whole thing again. 

You weren't even sucking him and he felt like he was about to scream.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned, his voice strained. “Just like that…”

You took your time with him, lavishing attention on his tip with soft licks and teasing strokes of your tongue. Every time you flicked your tongue over that sensitive spot just beneath the head, Bucky let out a low, desperate sound, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself back.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. “More… need more…”

You wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking gently as your hand continued to stroke his length. Bucky let out a choked moan, his fingers twitching in the air as if he was fighting the urge to grab you.

“God, you’re so fucking good at this,” he muttered, his head falling back against the wall. “. . . you’re gonna make me lose it—”

You glanced up at him, your eyes locking onto his as you slowly took him deeper into your mouth, your lips stretching around him. Your jaw widened and you pressed forward, letting him slide along your tongue. When Bucky hits the top of your throat, you paused.

His fingers itched to take the back of your head and shove his way inside, but he let you do this. You knew what he wanted, and he needed to see how far you would go to give it to him. You widen your thighs, changing the angle, and relax your throat muscles enough for him to slip in. 

“That’s it,” Bucky crooned. “I will let you breathe in a moment. Eyes on me, baby.”

Your wide, almost panicked gaze met his and he saw the fear and determination. It made his dick pulse, and he gave a short thrust of his hips to tunnel deeper. You worked together for a few seconds until he was fully inside, exactly where he wanted to stay. 

“Relax,” Bucky instructed. “Don’t pull off.” 

Tears gathered and spilled over your lashes, the most beautiful sight Bucky’s ever seen. His cock filled your mouth and throat, your lips pressed to his pelvic bone.

“Swallow, Y/N.” 

Your throat muscles worked, squeezing him, and he gasped. “Oh fuck,” He moaned, pulling back so you could take in air. 

After a few seconds, he lifted a brow in question, asking silently if you were ready, and you nodded once. This time Bucky didn’t wait, unable to keep from grasping your head and ramming his cock in your throat. When he was as deep as he could go, he held there, loving the way you looked on your knees, suffering to make him feel good. 

Bucky could feel the orgasm building, his balls growing tight and heavy, the need to empty his seed in your mouth. You saw it in his face, swallowing twice, then again, trying to force his come from his body, and the idea of it was so hot that he began roughly fucking your mouth. 

Every third or fourth stroke went in your throat, and he was like a man possessed. It was so much better than he imagines, your sweet tongue rubbing the underside while your lips pulled to give him suction. Like you couldn’t wait to drink him down.

You let him set the pace, your eyes locked onto him as his movements become more erratic and desperate. His cock was sliding in and out of your mouth like an oiled piston, and the suction noises you created were squelching into the room. You held yourself steady, hands holding onto Bucky’s ass, while his hips moved faster, his grip tightening as he chased his release. His mouth hang open while ragged gasps escape past his lips and his moans filled the tiny closet, raw and needy and desperate.

“I am going to shoot all over your mouth,” Bucky panted.

You moaned in your throat as if you liked the idea, and the sound vibrated along his shaft. The thin threads of his self-control snapped and his balls sizzled with the impending orgasm. Pulling out of your mouth, Bucky fisted his cock as he aimed his spurting cock into your waiting mouth, thick jets erupted in pulses, his come pooling at the back of your mouth, coating your lips and chin. You sat patiently, taking it, letting him paint you with his release, and Bucky snarled in satisfaction, wishing he could drown you more in his come. When he finished it dripped off your chin and onto the floor.

“Fuck,” Bucky said, slumping against the wall. “I wish I could keep you like this. Just like this, baby. At my feet, covered in my come.” 

Swallowing, you grinned, you licked your lips, tasting the thick mess. “Yum.”

Wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb as you sit back on your heels. "Glad I could help, Sergeant," you murmured, your voice soft and teasing as you licked your lips, making sure to savour every last drop.

[demeterlindavis]

❅In Every Life❅

Halsin x Fem!Reader | Modern AU, Parallel Universes Part 6 | Final | Read Part 5 here or jump to part 1

Summary: Another day on modern Earth as you finally wind down for the late night in your quiet home. All is as it should be. All is normal as you prepare for bed. That is, until a tall, hulking man with pointed ears shows up at your doorstep claiming to be your lost love from another time and realm. But he’s a stranger. A stranger who forever changes everything you thought you knew about your life.

Explicit 18+❕❕

CW (For whole story): Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tension, Oral, P in V, Shifting, Pain, Love, Grief, Halsin is Emotional!, Kinky! But kinky with love

Word Count: 11.7k (whoops! you can read on ao3 if it's easier on the eyes, but I have faith😈)

*Reminder, this is part 6. ⋆ a few tags for some. @stanfordscrush | @lanafofana | @catch-all | @thoughts-of-bear | @agathaharknessfan96 | @niki-is-a-reblog | @avabjorna36 | @acrobatalien42 | @princesspeachtacular | @amorgansgal | @freshlemontea

The tenderness in Halsin’s voice made you smile, feeling draped in its pleasant warmth. “Come,” you said to him, the flat of your hand softly pushed against his solid chest. He stepped backward, grasping your hips and gently guided you off the counter with a gentle thud.

You slipped past Halsin’s large frame, but not before interlacing your hand with his. With his large hand cupped around yours, you led him out of the kitchen and further into the quietness of your house, past the dining area, and into the spacey living room. You turned, gauging Halsin’s reaction, and found his eyes scanning the room, a curious narrow in his brows as his gaze landed on the wide, dark TV screen. You smiled, rubbing your thumb over his knuckle.

“I’ll tell you all about the changes in this world in the morning.” Your hand slipped out of his as you stepped further into the room. “But there are still some things that would be familiar to you.” You gestured towards the large fireplace at the corner of the room, where several logs were still layered upon one another.

You glanced down as you brought the palms of your hands into view. A heavy sigh flowed through your lips as you thought back to the otherworldly feeling of energy crackling within the tips of your fingers. The power that surged through your body, desperate for release. But that was in your old life, the magic both a distant and considerably recent memory.

“I’d do the honors but,” you nodded towards the fireplace, “I don’t think my magic exists anymore, or it’s severely dormant.” You gave a meek smile, half joking, but a tiny part of gloom sliced through you.

“Of course.” Halsin stepped at your side, facing the fireplace. Orange flames conjured in his hand, reflecting in his hazel eyes as he drew one arm back like he was ready to toss something. “Ignis,” he whispered, casting a bolt of fire directly onto the logs.

Instantly, the flames spread, rising and flickering within the hearth. The dark room was almost immediately illuminated in a soft, red-orange glow. You glanced at Halsin, sighing in awe at the sight of the shimmering light dancing over his face, the way the shadows heightened the intensity of his gaze as he stared at the flames for another moment longer. Halsin turned to you, taking both your hands before lifting them to his lips.

“As for your magic,” he kissed the back of your hand, his breath warm over your skin. “I wager it is only dormant. I do not know much of this world, but I do believe you are full of magic in more ways than one.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a genuine smile curving on your face. Maybe he was right- maybe this world did have magic like in Faerûn, but it had long been lost to the ages, replaced by the consistent advancement of modern technologies. But that was a matter for another time. Right there, right now, you had your druid back and he had you. So you sauntered further away from him, holding your hand up to keep him from following when he took a reactive step towards you. You strolled backward until your bare feet transitioned from the cold wooden floor to the massive, warm rug. The fluffy carpet glided between your toes as you tip-toed towards the center of it, your eyes never leaving Halsin’s.

You reached up to grasp the center of your robe, then pulled it apart, letting it slip freely off your shoulders. When it fell down your arms, you tossed it aside nearby. Halsin watched you intently, silent, his large chest rising and falling. You smirked, then turned away from him, lifting the bottom of your tank top up and over your head then discarded it in front of you. Your house had a gentle warmth hovering in the air, growing warmer from the nearby flames, but a coolness still lingered in the center of the room, ensuring your nipples remained taut.

Halsin’s heart thundered in his chest, his tongue unconsciously sliding across his bottom lip. He had watched your robe slip away, and his gaze quickly scanned your bare arms and thighs. The heat of his budding arousal intensified, a swell straining against his trousers. He watched as you turned around, freeing yourself from the tight shirt you wore. Immediately, he caught sight of the small streak that trailed down the middle of your spine. The mark that seemed to follow you in both your past and present life. The very mark that granted Halsin this chance to be with you again.

You bent forward some, sliding your thumbs inside your underwear, guiding it to fall at your ankles. You arched forward further, purposely poking your bare backside in his direction as you reached for the discarded top. You picked it up and threw it on a nearby couch before fully turning to face Halsin again.

Halsin’s breath caught in his throat as you stood naked and smirking before him, your eyes glued to his with a deep yearning. His mouth felt slick with saliva, and his chest burned with a craving for you. A shaky breath left his throat, his voice low and dripping with devotion. “You are still more intoxicating than anything nature has to offer.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks and a shiver passed over you at the lower pitch of his voice, how he all but shuddered the words. You could only imagine the racing in his heart, it must’ve been beating as fast as yours. And just like the first time in the forest, all those years ago in another life, Halsin gripped at his clothing and swiftly removed it, bending down to step out of his trousers once he discarded his robe. He rose slowly, standing at full height. The light from the fire shone over him wonderfully, accentuating every line, muscle, and contour of his body.

Your gaze trailed over his impressive frame, drifting lower to his large, muscled thighs. You released a soft gasp as you rested on his long, thick erection where the tiniest line of thin fluid dripped from the tip. You bit your lip, feeling yourself throbbing for this god of a man who was standing there waiting for you. It was like seeing him for the first time while also remembering all of your phenomenal moments together, how you never grew tired of the sight of him in his full glory.

“Come back to me, my love,” he whispered a gentle command, already stepping towards you as he spoke.

You smiled, meeting him halfway as his hands reached for your waist, pulling you into him. You gasped, surprisingly unprepared for the rush of pleasure that coursed through your body on first, naked contact. He hadn’t kissed you yet, his eyes still boring into yours, so full and thriving with affection.

“Gods, you are so gorgeous,” you muttered, smiling softly, appreciating the striking druid before you. Your breath caught as you admired the way the flames’ light danced on the side of his face, brightening his tattoo and reflecting in his eyes.

Halsin gave a sheepish smile, almost looking away but managing to hold your gaze. After all this time, he still couldn’t believe you were back in his arms, as you had once been thousands of times before. The moment you came to him in a dream, he never stopped working on how to find you again. His passion was reignited in the hopes of seeing you breathing again- kissing you again, loving you again.

You pressed yourself even closer against his torso, Halsin doing just the same, large hands roaming down your back, resting at the curve of your smooth backside. He bent forward, molding his mouth into yours, already missing your lips. But this kiss was slower, deeper, sensual. There was a tingling urgency that still floated beneath the surface of your kiss, but the relaxed passion was prevailing, your lips easily moving together in expert accuracy. Halsin’s groan rumbled against your chest, the deep vibration heightening your arousal. You loved the sounds he made when he kissed you just as much as you knew he loved your melodic moans. And your passion for one another made it oh so easy to sing such sounds.

“Halsin,” you gasped softly as his lips found their way to your jaw before licking a trail down your neck. Another groan rumbled from his throat as he sucked on your tender skin, sure to leave several marks before soothing it over with his tongue.

Halsin’s large hands gripped you firmly, and his licks and kisses grew eager as the scent of your arousal wafted up to him, setting ablaze the deepest desires within him. There was a sudden stir in his essence, a rattle against the invisible cage as the beast shifted within, hungry, longing for the one who ignited the most primal urges inside of him. But the Archdruid had years of experience under his belt, and he had learned to show some restraint…usually.

If he was lucky, there would be plenty of nights of wild, unbridled, primal passion. But tonight, he wanted you to have him as he was; in his prime, elven form. So suppressing that primal urge, his huge, expert hand worked over one of your breasts, massaging it while his thumb teasingly rubbed over the taut nipple. His other hand secured you at your lower back, keeping you steady as you began to gradually sway within his hold. His tongue slithered its way across your collarbones, over your chest, desperately tasting as much of you as he could.

Halsin continued his descent as a delighted whine escaped your lips just as his mouth closed over a nipple. He loved that sound, just as much as he loved feeling your keen hands combing through his hair and gripping his strong shoulders. He glanced up at you, captivated by your beautiful neck as you tilted your head back, biting your lips. Halsin sucked on you, biting gently, watching you gasp and your teeth scraping your lips before he soothed your sensitive nipple with a warm lick. He moved to your other supple breast, not wanting to neglect it from the same deserving attention. He groaned with your nipple in his mouth and felt your chest prickle at his breath.

Halsin sensed your legs losing strength as you seemed to use more effort to hold onto him, too lost in the sensations his mouth had against your chest. With ease, he hoisted you up, securing your legs around his waist. Halsin shuddered, feeling a dampness pressing against his lower abdomen, you were so incredibly moist for him. His lips were quickly on yours again as he slowly sank to his knees, kissing you for another moment before gently laying you on your back.

You tilted your head up, expecting him to capture your lips again. Instead, Halsin raised himself, placing his hands on your knees as he gazed down at you. An assembly of emotions was present on his beautiful, scarred face: awe, devotion, lust, a hint of sadness, and most importantly, love. Your heart wavered as he surveyed your body before coming back to your eyes again, a tiny smile marking his face as his broad chest filled and emptied with air.

Halsin continued to look down at you as another overwhelming sense of disbelief hit him. But only for a moment as the scent of your arousal was notably stronger in this position, reminding him of how much you ached for him as he did you. He roved his eyes over your lovely, nude body once again, silently thanking nature for its powerful creative skills. You were a vision. A goddess. And you had his heart.

With a wicked smile, you lifted one leg, teasingly sliding your toes down the center of his hard pecs, traveling further down his abdomen. You were about to pull your leg away, but Halsin took hold of your ankle, kissing you there. You smiled contentedly as he peppered sweet kisses up your leg, occasionally showing the other the same attention. He lowered himself, leaving teasing bites along your thighs, his tongue lazily roaming over your warm flesh. You curled your fingers into the furry carpet as his warm breath hovered near the spot you wanted him at most, the anticipation almost unbearable.

Halsin inhaled deeply, groaning hungrily against your heat. “Mmm, that scent.” He quivered, digging his fingers into your thigh. “As exhilarating as I remember.”

A sudden gasp left you as Halsin’s entire mouth clamped over the most tender of your flesh. You let your head fall on the rug, stomach clenching as you started losing yourself in the immediate, wonderful sensations. Halsin’s tongue moved desperately over you, the force of his sucking causing the most melodic mewls and moans from your lips.

Halsin laid himself almost flat, pulling you into his mouth as much as he could. Your taste; the warm, sweet nectar, oh how it invigorated him. He took you in his mouth with ease, your wet, sensitive flesh, so easy for licking and sucking. You were already so slippery before his tongue even tasted you, and now... Halsin groaned at the thought. The chorus of your moans only fueled his desire further, and he sucked your clit harder before rubbing against it with his pointed nose while his tongue glided down to your entrance.

The surface and bottom of his tongue ran long, greedy licks from the top of your clit all the way to the tight hole of your anus, lingering there a while before licking his way back up again. His tongue dipped inside of you, fueled by the loud moan that sang from your lips. You tasted divine, leaking into his mouth as he savored as much as possible. Halsin wanted to drown in you, to feast on you, desperate to be sustained by all you could provide. He devoured you like you were a fresh river he stumbled upon after days of wandering lost in the driest of deserts. And finally, he could drink.

A surge of arousal rushed up his back, amplifying his already racing heart. His pulsing erection pressed into the soft carpet as he unintentionally began moving his hips to rub himself against it. The feel of your legs rubbing haphazardly up his back– your fingers clawing and pulling at his hair, made his cheeks feel flushed, his head hot and drunk with you. A familiar nudge rumbled in his core again, the beast aching to be brought out to play. He practically growled against you, making you whimper at the vibrations his throat gave. He heard you moan his name, and a potent spark raced up his cheeks and into his eyes.

You glanced down just as Halsin looked up at you and gasped at the sight. His irises were glowing a fierce gold, watching you hungrily, intensely, as his mouth continued to devour your rawest flesh. It was one of the sexiest things you had seen in a long time, the men of Earth having no comparison. A sudden thrust from his finger pulled you out of your trance, and you fought the urge to throw your head back, not wanting to look away from this alluring sight. Your toes curled as the feeling of his thick finger explored you, poking against the spot that finally made your head lay back down. Another finger had you gasping at the brief flicker of pain as he slowly stretched you. You’ve had few lovers in this life, but it had been a while since another man or toy had been inside of you.

Halsin lifted his head as trails of saliva stretched between your labia and his mouth before falling away. He wanted to focus on working his fingers inside you, groaning at the way your walls squeezed after his second finger. “Oh, how tight you are, my heart.” His tone was husky and thick with desire, lips glistening wet with you. He had expected some level of tightness, but the idea of just how much you were gripping around only two fingers further excited him for something more, something larger, to feel it suffocating within your walls.

For all the times you and Halsin had been together, the many nights and days you reached your climax, you were often quite tight before starting. If you had gone even a day without sleeping together, your walls took little time to compress, like it looked forward to the stretch, to the pleasure and sting that came with it.

Halsin rotated his fingers slowly, exploring you once again after so long apart. He slid further in, curving his fingers upward with a sudden force. You twitched, and the sound that fell from your lips made the druid smirk, pleased that he still knew where and how to touch you. He almost added a third finger but changed his mind, wanting his stiff cock to be the one to stretch you further. So instead, he shifted the two fingers he had inside of you so his thumb was now probing over the entrance of your anus. Already so lubricated from his saliva and your moisture, he had little resistance squeezing his thumb inside your tighter hole.

“Halsin!” you yelped and arched your back as he continued to work his thick fingers within you, pulling all sorts of soft, airy, pleasurable sounds from your opened mouth. Gods you’ve missed his touch, flooded by the memories of how incredible it was, how well he knew your body. You clenched your stomach as Halsin pumped his fingers faster as a familiar feeling bubbled in your abdomen, spreading further down, consuming you. You tried to lean back a little, the sensation becoming too much to handle but Halsin’s other hand gripped you in place. The sudden suction of his mouth back on your clit sent you over, releasing a sudden, splashing dam of your arousal. You shuddered, breathing hard as your climax soared through you—but Halsin continued, still licking and sucking on your sensitive flesh.

“My Halsin,” you breathed frantically, “please…”

Halsin glanced up at you, irises still burning a bright gold. He smirked against you then released your clit with a final suction from his lips, making you twitch at the sensation. You moaned quietly at the feeling of his fingers slipping out of you. The flat of his tongue licked you up and down once more, cleaning you. You lay flat, breathing heavily as the vibrations that tickled throughout your body gradually subsided. You were still throbbing even after his mouth left you, still so sensitive.

A large figure passed over your droopy eyelids as Halsin lowered himself to plant adoring kisses on your chest and your neck, before hovering above your face. You were half aware of the druid gazing at you, a satisfying closed grin on his face as his fingers idly trailed up your thigh. When your breathing calmed some, you finally focused on him, the golden glow in his eyes still intense, showing no signs of waning. Glancing at his glistening mouth, you started to lean upward but Halsin was first to sever the distance.

A deep, open-mouthed kiss greeted you, his tongue finding refuge in your mouth. You tasted yourself on him, feeling reinvigorated by the taste and scent. One of your legs moved over Halsin’s back, trying to pull him closer to you. He groaned, kissing you passionately before pausing to look at you.

You smiled up at him, sliding a few stray strands of hair out of his face. “Always taking such good care of me,” you sighed, happily, feeling like you could lay there forever. You not only felt satisfied but so safe and protected beneath his large stature even with him leaning a bit to the side.

Halsin chuckled, gazing at you with pure love and desire still aflame in his golden irises. “I live to serve.” He smiled, brushing his lips over yours before caressing them softly.

Your brows furrowed and you frowned a little as a wave of sadness came over you. Staring up at your druid, your elf, your lover, you couldn’t help but wonder what you did to ever deserve such a man- what you did to deserve him coming back to you in this life. You realized just how incredibly lucky you were, and you weren’t going to squander it.

“But who’s taking care of you?” you inquired, tracing your nail down his cheek. Halsin shuddered at your touch, closing his eyes.

You took that chance to gather what strength you could, seizing this distraction. With the assistance of your knee, you quickly pressed the palm of your hands against his chest and pushed. Halsin, half leaning on his side, made it much easier for you to force the large man onto his back. He grunted at the sudden movement, a quick, hearty laugh escaping him. You threw your legs over him, now effectively the one on top.

“My sweet Halsin,” you murmured, rubbing your hands down his large, hairy pecs. He groaned beneath you, staring at you with pure devotion, ready to give whatever you wanted.

Your nails dragged down his abdomen, watching him clench and twitch beneath your touch. Your roving eyes followed your hands’ movements, scanning over his massive frame, so sculpted and perfect, all yours to revel in. You sighed in deep appreciation; he was such a marvel. Your eyes stopped at the length of him resting near his thigh, pulsing and erect, a clear line of pre-cum glistening at the tip. You felt yourself throbbing at the sight, your heart quickening as you eyed Halsin who was staring at you silently, hungrily. Glowing eyes anticipated your next move, his massive chest lifting and falling.

You bit your lip, taking in the sculpted physique of the elf-man. Your hands moved over to each of his biceps, his veins bulging, and gingerly massaged the thick muscles, feeling any and all tension start to slip. You glided your way up the length of his shoulders, kneading and caressing as Halsin sighed contently, watching you through half-open eyes. You frowned as you worked your hands into his muscles as best you could, feeling the tension of what you suspected had lived in him for years.

“So much stress,” you whispered, solemn, leaning down towards him. “You can relax now, my love. I’m here now.”

Halsin released a deep breath, his brows slightly knitting together in a show of adoring appreciation. “Yes, you are. And you’re still so perfect.” His large hands idly roved up and down your waist as you smiled down at him.

So you proceeded to press your hands into his warm skin until you gradually felt his muscles restricting a little less, his shoulders resting more. “I missed this face, my sweet bear,” you droned lovingly, almost losing yourself in the glow of his eyes. “Can I take my time with you?” you asked, tracing a nail along his collarbone.

His voice was husky and breathy in his response, so deep from his throat. “Whatever you wish, my heart. Any part of me is yours.”

Bending down, you placed a tender kiss on the scars above his brow then the other side, beneath his eye where his tattoo continued downwards. Your lips pressed more soft kisses along his cheek until you made your way to his ear, darting your tongue out to lick a trail up to the very sensitive point of his ear. Halsin shuddered, groaning deeply as his grip on your lower waist tightened for a brief moment before relaxing again. You chuckled mischievously at his reaction, pleased to see how sensitive he still was.

Halsin felt himself twitch at the sound of your lascivious laughter in his ear, your warm breath tickling his neck. Sweet, electric tingles danced their way up his body as your lips touched the crook of his neck. He roamed his hands up the length of your back, falling into the heated sensations of your kisses along his skin, the way you put pressure on several areas as though to mark him. Halsin felt himself relaxing more into the soft rug, his body reacting to you in all the right ways. His neck felt cold when you glided away, peppering kisses across his chest. He caught your eyes as you looked up and smiled at him, a wicked glint in your grin.

A heavy groan drawled out of Halsin’s throat as you nipped lightly on one of his nipples, soothing it with a slow lick. Your fingers playfully teased and pinched the other as Halsin tried not to squeeze you too tight so as not to interrupt you. It had been so long since anyone had him like this— since you had him this way. Even before he knew you, no one had taken the time to truly explore Halsin’s body the way you did, to tease and caress at more areas other than what sat stiffly between his legs. But his blood burned in anticipation, eager for your hands to touch him everywhere.

The slickness of your tongue swirled down the center of his abdomen, occasionally stopping to pepper a kiss on each brick of muscle as your hands roamed down his sides. Halsin twitched at the feeling of your warm breath ghosting over his lower abdomen, his heart rate increasing as he observed you eagerly. He watched as you placed a kiss below his navel, then ever lower, pausing to glance at him.

With a cheeky smirk, you rose on your knees, halting the rest of your descent. Halsin made a strained sound, somewhere between a groan and a whine that made a stream of melodic chuckles leave your lips. “Is something the matter, love?” you inquired with a raise of your brow.

Before Halsin could answer, you moved both of your hands to one of his bulky thighs, working the wide muscle. His skin was much warmer there, yet it still prickled beneath your caresses. Halsin reached for your waist, sliding his calloused hands up to cup and knead at your breasts. But his touch faltered as you scraped your nails down his inner thigh, delighted by his sudden hiss and intake of breath. You remembered how he loved it when you touched him there, how it made him twitch and ache with more want. And you could see how much he yearned for more, thick and hard for you, throbbing as it jolted a little, desperate for your attention. Halsin’s lips parted as he muttered your name, his wide chest rising and falling.

Leaning forward, you showered kisses over Halsin’s face, drawing back slightly to look into his eyes. But it wasn’t just the beautiful glow you wanted to gaze at, it was his reaction when you— Halsin hissed, jolting beneath you as his warm breath hit your face. You smirked, pleased with his reaction the moment you slyly reached between the two of you and grasped his waiting, thick cock. A low whine drifted from his mouth as the pad of your thumb swiped over the tip, smearing the wet slick over himself. Your hand moved halfway down his length before you caught his moan in your mouth as you kissed him.

Halsin’s body burned with a new wave of exhilarating desire at the feeling of your expert touch. He felt like pudding beneath you, already so weak for you, heart racing as he watched you pull away from his lips. His body made an involuntary flex of his abdomen as your warm, wet tongue slithered down the middle of his torso, swirling in and around his navel. He murmured your name, pulse racing as your head moved lower. The beast within panted as the slippery slick of your tongue finally touched him where he craved most, licking a long trail up his length. He suppressed the urge to hurriedly raise his hips and push into your mouth, choosing instead to grit his teeth as he laid his head back.

You moaned against Halsin, swirling your tongue around the tip, reveling at the minor hint of salt before your saliva took over. He was so full and heavy in your hands as you opened your mouth more, taking him in. A deep, rumbling groan sounded from above you, and you felt his thighs flex and tighten.

Gradually, you started a nice slow suck, occasionally swirling your tongue around him. You moved up and down, wanting to lower your head further but the position made it difficult to take too much of him. So your hands did what the rest of your throat couldn’t, stroking and massaging the bottom of him, fondling his testicles while your wet mouth sucked and tasted. You moaned again, encouraged by the shaky movements beneath you and the occasional grunts and labored breaths from your druid’s lips. You moved your head faster, stroked him harder, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth.

Tingles prickled all over Halsin’s body as your wet lips cupped around him, your warm mouth taking in as much as you could. He felt your mouth leave him only to then feel your breath hovering over his large sacs, rolling your tongue over them as your hands continued to work his length. Halsin breathed sharply, clenching his jaw at the sensation— so different from his cock and yet triggering new waves of pleasure up and down his legs.

Your moans as you sucked him in and tasted him were sending him near the edge, and his stomach tightened as a charge darted down his center. He felt your tongue slithering back up his shaft again, wasting no time to take the slick girth of him back into your warm mouth. A familiar sensation simmered within Halsin, threatening to launch him off the cliff the longer you had him in your mouth. He gritted his teeth, torn between letting you continue to savor him or halting your actions. He whined as another slurp and hard suck came from you. No– he had to wait, not yet.

Quickly, he grabbed the side of your head and gently but firmly halted you. You eyed him with lust-filled eyes as you pulled away, your mouth parted and dripping. He tingled at the sight, watching the head of his cock leaning against your lips.

“Wait, my heart,” he breathed hard, sweat glistening over his skin. “I want to be as one first, to fill you with me. Please.”

With a mischievous grin, you nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. “Of course, my darling.” Teasingly, you flicked your tongue out for one final lick and his eyes flared bright before dimming back to their golden glow.

You crawled back up Halsin’s body and he kissed you eagerly, sloppy, mixing the taste of each other. You drew back before getting too lost in his lips and rose high on your knees. Halsin’s luminous gaze followed you carefully, his breathing ragged. You positioned yourself over him, a sudden rush of heat passing over your body as you glided your wetness along his shaft. Your labia slipped and slid over him with ease, and you bit your lip at the stimulating sensation while Halsin could hardly keep his eyes open. Wanting to tease him no longer, you gripped just below the tip and lifted yourself higher, aligning him just beneath you.

You inhaled, preparing yourself as you gently lowered onto him, hissing softly as your hips gradually descended. A deep, almost animalistic groan rumbled out of Halsin, and his hands reached for your breasts, fondling and massaging you as you bit your lip through the sting of the stretch. You remembered more now, how Halsin could fill you like no other. A blend of pleasure and pain tingled inside you as you continued your descent on his thick, veiny shaft, inch by delicious inch.

Halsin murmured below you, his large hands moving to grasp your waist but without rushing you. “That’s it, my love. Let me open you. You always take me so well.” His sweet praises made you moan and mewl until you finally reached the base.

You felt so incredibly full of him, like he was deep in your stomach. Instead of moving up and down, you started slowly grinding your hips first, allowing your moist walls more time to adjust. Pleasure still shot through you as you eyed Halsin’s radiant eyes, gazing up at you, mouth hung open. You placed your hands against his chest, your confidence building as you began to lift slightly before sliding back down. The pain began to wane under the pleasure as you started bouncing your hips with more passionate fervor, gasping every time you reached the bottom of him.

A chorus of moans and sweet compliments filled the room as Halsin watched you take him expertly. “You are such a vision,” he whispered beneath you. A long drag of his breath flowed from his mouth at the sight of himself disappearing inside you, over and over.

You still felt so tight around him, damp and warm, but he knew the pleasure was overcoming any pain from the way you rode him, taking him like he was meant only for you. His hands on your waist began to grip you, gently assisting in the movements of your hips, unable to resist pressing up into you each time you came down. “You feel incredible,” Halsin breathed, low, his mouth parting nicely.

The glow in Halsin’s eyes only doubled the euphoric sensations. He too felt incredible. Looked incredible. It was intoxicating, phenomenal, powerful. You reveled in each other, a perfect match, a perfect rhythm. It was all so much— the feel of him within you, the desire and love that burned only for you.

A sudden dizziness filled your head as your vision started to alter. Your face prickled with goosebumps as visions – no – memories flashed in front of you. Breathy moans, needy hands, thrusting and kissing, soft soothing, climaxes reached again and again.

You saw it all, you and Halsin, the many times you came as one. You felt it all. Every taste, every touch, every orgasm rushing into your entire being all at once. A tsunami of sensations washed over you with no mercy. You keeled forward, wobbly and uneven. You were acutely aware of glowing eyes laced with worry as they looked up at you. Your forearm trembled as you used it to hold yourself a little as you rested against Halsin’s hard chest.

“What is it, my heart? Are you hurt?” Halsin seized all movements, forcing down the haze of lust as he frantically searched your face.

His heart quickened, no longer with hunger but with fear. He lifted your face to look at him, your eyes closed as you breathed rapidly. “My heart? Please speak to me.”

“Just… just need a moment.” You took in a deep breath, then another, trying to quell the overwhelming feeling. It wasn’t that the sudden flood of feelings didn’t feel nice per se, it was just all so sudden, so unexpected, and probably entirely more than you could handle at the moment as all your memories caught up with you.

“We can rest, my love. We need not rush anything.” Before you could respond to him, you gasped as he suddenly lifted your hips, sliding out of you. The loss immediately left you feeling cold and empty without his fill.

Halsin gently shifted positions so you were on your back now, then glanced around the living room. The nearest couch had a square pillow in arm's reach, which he grabbed and placed beneath your head. He then laid at your side, half leaning over you, eyeing you with solemn concern.

The carpet was soft against your back as you felt your pulse throbbing. But you took comfort in Halsin’s warmth that assisted in calming you.

“Sorry,” you whispered, your vision clearing, effectively bringing you back to the present.

“There is nothing to be sorry for, my love.” He kissed your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek. “We can proceed tomorrow, or any other—

“No,” you snapped, heart quickening, your arousal still burning. “I still want you. I need you. Right now.”

“But you nearly lost yourself, what if—”

“My memories,” you said, sighing. “It seems some chose to reconnect with me while you and I were… connected.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion but waited for you to continue. “I saw us. Nearly all the times we were together as one. In the forest, at camp, at our home. I could feel us, Halsin. How incredible we were together.” You reached up for his face, tracing your thumb down his bottom lip. “It just became so much for that moment. But it’s easing now. I’m okay.”

“Are- are you certain?” Halsin would be deceiving himself if he said his blood still wasn’t burning, that his cock still didn’t throb so eagerly for you, still coated with your moist. But he had to be sure you truly still wanted this and could handle it, for he had no issue putting your comfort first.

“I want you,” you murmured, reaching down to stroke his still-hardened length, slippery with you. “And I think you still want me, too.” You smirked, your heart soaring at the tenderness in his eyes. But you were not blind to the desire that still swelled within him, for the golden glow of his irises still had not dimmed.

“Silvanus preserve me,” he groaned, kneading against your thigh. “I- I do still want you. I want you more than I can bear it. I want to drown in you. To reclaim what is mine and for you to take what is yours.”

Your heart raced at his confessions, and your lips curved into a naughty smirk. You ran a finger down the side of his face then over his bottom lip. “Then come back to me.”

You watched him pondering for a moment before he leaned down to capture your lips. Tender, slow, and passionate, your mouths molded together effortlessly.

“As you wish, my heart. But allow me.” He positioned his body fully over yours, resting his weight on his forearms as he used his knee to spread your legs so he could settle in between.

His breath was warm on your lips as you gazed at one another. This close and this still, you were even more mesmerized by the sight above you. The way the firelight danced on the side of his face, how his eyes still burned for you, a magical golden light. You were so warm beneath him, so protected.

Halsin tilted his head, a loving smile on his face. “You are remarkable, do you know that?”

You twisted your lips, feigning a deep thought. “Yes. Yes, I do know.” You chuckled playfully, and Halsin laughed right along with you, vibrating against your chest.

“Oh, so I should reduce my compliments, then?”

You gasped. “Don’t you dare. Tell me more.” You grinned, then bit your lips to try to keep from smiling.

Halsin leaned down, kissing you once. “You are beautiful.” A lick along your jawline. “Incredible.” He sucked lightly on your neck, making you moan and giggle a little. “Ravishing.” He froze, his breath hot and heavy near your ear. “Extraordinary.” He lifted his head to look at you again, his voice deep and serious. “And I love you more than anything.”

Before you could answer, a whimper erupted from your mouth as he suddenly sank back inside you in one full thrust. You felt immediately stuffed again, missing his girth, his warmth. You tossed your head back, exposing your neck for Halsin who wasted no time peppering kisses and adding more marks to your skin.

Your living room was an orchestra of passion; sounds of heavy, ragged breathing, strained mewls, grunts, and deep groans. All accompanied by the crackling noises of the embers dancing within the fireplace, as if the flames themselves were encouraging your lovemaking. Your hands roamed down Halsin’s back, scratching and pulling him closer to you as much as possible. You were skin to skin and it still didn’t feel like enough.

Halsin lifted one of your legs back, raising it almost near the side of your head, and when he thrust back in, another gasp wafted from your lips. He felt so much deeper that way, a total and complete part of you. A flurry of euphoric sensations bubbled throughout your body, a burning heat mixed with sudden chills down your spine. Halsin moved within you skillfully, smoothly, your tightness eagerly sucking him back in during every stroke and thrust.

Halsin’s breathing was ragged, consumed by the feeling of you, how warm and wet you were. He was driven by how well you took him, how well he fit buried deep inside you. He reveled in your sultry moans near his ear, the sweet sounds more entrancing than a harpy’s luring song. He kissed you whenever possible, passionate and unsteady as the pleasure from your connection was too distracting. He groaned a low, growl-like rumble, then felt your fingers dig into his flesh in response.

Once again, Halsin was caught in a well of utter disbelief. He never thought he’d have you again, be with you again. He was growing content with the temporary moments of your presence in his meditations or dreams. But when you truly came to him in a dream, a different version of you, the opportunity for another chance… his heart leaped for it. Nothing and no one could stop him from trying to find you again. And so he gazed down at you, and there you were… face flushed with pleasure, eyes dazed and heavy with lust yet swelling with love.

Halsin watched your lips part, wet from his tongue, while dots of sweat glistened over your forehead as you eagerly welcomed him within you. You were beautiful. You were real. A familiar burn in his eyes caused his vision to slightly blur as new tears strolled down his face, some landing on your cheek and your nose.

“To have you again,” Halsin uttered through shaky words, voice hot and hoarse. “Oak Father, do not let this be a dream.” He allowed his emotions to do as they pleased— to simmer, burn, and cry for you. He dipped down and molded his mouth to yours once again, groaning into your kiss, never wanting to part from you. His tongue tasted you fiercely, trying to get as deep as possible. Halsin’s feelings for you surged wildly into the kiss, and he breathed you in like he would perish without your air.

Time was a distant thought as your hot, sweat-slicked bodies moved against each other. You kissed Halsin back whenever you could, other times too overcome with the height of ecstasy buzzing in your body. When you couldn’t return the kiss, his lips moved to your jaw, your chin, your neck, anywhere he could get his mouth on. An intense pressure filled your abdomen, and you unintentionally clenched yourself around Halsin’s cock, unable to handle the rising sensations as you writhed beneath him.

Halsin’s grunts became more constant and ragged as he increased his speed, drilling himself into your clenching heat. He leaned his hips forward some, and the light bristles of his pubic hair grazed your clit, eliciting another moan from you. He grinned and pressed more of his lower weight on you, rubbing against your clit while he burrowed deeper as a low rumble, almost growl vibrated in his chest.

“My heart.” A jagged breath between teeth as his movements quickened, his rhythm growing irregular.

Through hooded eyes, you stared at his glowing ones before lifting your chin, exposing your neck again. Your back arched, body prickling and hot as Halsin’s thick fingers dug into your thigh, grounding himself into you. Another overwhelming feeling rushed over your body, your walls clenching, belly electric. “My Halsin,” you moaned and he thrusted into you hard, the hardest yet tonight. Warm fluid spilled into you as Halsin growled from the depths of his throat, burying his head in the crook of your neck as you felt him twitching inside of you.

Wave after wave of euphoria washed over you. You turned your head towards Halsin, kissing the side of his face, wanting to taste his lips. But a gasp left your mouth as Halsin hurriedly withdrew from you, once again leaving you feeling cold without him. You knew Halsin, you knew he wasn’t quite finished spending himself within you, in the middle of still thrusting out his orgasm. And even so, he loved to sit in you for a while, even after he came down from his peak. So you watched him with concern as he lifted his weight on his hands and knees so none of his body was touching you.

“Halsin?” your breathy whisper came out quickly just as a familiar stream of golden light swam over the length of his body. A light you remembered all too well.

Halsin glanced at you once. No longer was it just his irises shimmering, but the entire space of his eyes. In a quick burst of light, the elf was gone, in his place a creature coated in dark brown fur, fierce and powerful. But it was not the shape you were expecting, not the robust cave bear you knew so well. No, this was a canine— golden eyes shining in the body of a beautiful, massive, dire wolf. The wolf tossed his head back and the loudest keening howl sang from his mouth. You gasped, but not out of fear but from surprise.

It was a thrilling sight, and you couldn’t help but elicit a quick giggle as you tried to shush him, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t be pulled out of their slumber. The wolf’s howling mewled to a gradual end and he—Halsin— lowered his head to survey you. His bright, golden eyes glimmered, and his heavy panting gave you a peek at sharp incisors. He was gorgeous, how his glimmering eyes stood out against dark fur. You knew it was brown like his hair, but in this dim light, it was practically as black as the night. And his head was large, larger than that of a modern wolf. Your heart was still pounding as the mighty wolf met your eyes, slightly showing its teeth.

You could almost see Halsin’s smirk and desire for you. His dark snout twitched as he began sniffing, working his way over you. The wolf dipped his head towards you, and his long, flat tongue flicked out, lapping at your chest. You shivered at the feeling, letting him taste you as his long tongue dragged over each of your breasts. It felt warm and slick, slithering along your collarbone and up the column of your neck then back down again. Something like a faint growl rumbled in the wolf’s throat as the hot air from his heavy panting coasted further down your belly. You watched with bated breath, a new excitement tickling your bones as the wolf made his way sniffing down your body.

His long snout gently butted your knees, opening them back up since you obliviously brought your legs together after Halsin’s exit. The wolf’s tongue darted out, lapping at your still-so-sensitive flesh. You gasped at the sensation, stomach tightening. You were still so tender, so raw, and yet your hands reached down to dig through the fur between his long ears. Something between a growl and low whine vibrated against you as Halsin’s wolf tongue swiped over your combined fluids, like he was both cleaning and enjoying you.  

“Halsin,” you mewled, caught in a half daze at the beast beneath you, your lover, your druid. This wasn’t the first time you explored each other while Halsin was in wild shape, but in this life, in this body, the sensations it brought felt so amazingly new.

His snout pressed against your clit, inhaling as his long tongue slithered inside your sex, curving wonderfully. Oh how you wished you had the magic or potion to speak with animals. You wanted to hear that animalistic tone laced in Halsin’s already deep voice.

A tremor flushed down your stomach as Halsin’s wolf savored you, careful with his sharp teeth. He lapped at you hungrily, the wolf’s breath so much hotter, heavier. You glanced down, meeting deep, glowing eyes that were piercing into you, a wet snout poking against you. With that sight and fresh sensations, it didn’t take long for another surge of ecstasy to fill your abdomen, rushing to its peak as your vision wavered momentarily. A loud wail sang from your throat as the wolf made a satisfying whine against you before his tongue glided back up your torso.

The wolf rose tall, his long tongue flicking over his nose and mouth where your wetness coated him. There was another burst of golden light as Halsin returned to his elven form, panting above you. “Forgive me, my heart,” he was apologetic but still smiling as he spoke. “I could not escape the sudden urge to…howl. And I fear my own lungs would not have done it justice.”

Catching your breath, you spoke between heavy sighs. “Oh, you felt the urge to just howl, was it?” You raised a brow, nodding cheekily towards your inner thighs, still tingling.

He chuckled, a deep hearty sound. “Ah, then you must forgive the wolf for also wanting to indulge.”

You burst into a fit of giggles and laughter as Halsin joined in on the moment of humorous bliss. His face was glistening with sweat, and his eyes had finally dimmed, returning to their normal hue of hazel. His sincere laugh warmed your chest, and you curled your arms around his neck, pulling him back down to you. His hair tie must have broken during his transition, as now his silky hair spilled freely down his face, tickling your cheeks.

“You might’ve woken the neighbors,” you said, smiling, sliding some of his hair behind one ear. “I don’t exactly live near any wolves.”

“Then let them presume they were dreaming.” He smirked, lowering his voice mischievously. “You were quite loud yourself, my heart. Perhaps they’ll suspect a wolf devoured you tonight.”

You playfully patted his chest, grinning wider now as you laughed together. After a few moments, the laughter subsided and Halsin released a deep breath as he regarded you. There was a new look in his warm eyes, a cloud of peace with storms of the deepest devotion he had for you.

Halsin leaned even closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. “I never thought I’d hear that sound again.”

Your fingers idly played with his hair. “What sound?”

“The sweet song of your laughter.” He took another incredulous breath, slightly shaking his head. “I never stopped missing it.”

Halsin did not wait for your response, his mouth was already pressing into yours, unable to stay away from your lips for too long. It was a long, passionate kiss, deep and teeming with the promise of all your affection for each other.

Completely consumed by him, it was easy to melt into his kiss, his warmth and strong body over you. But finding the strength, you broke the kiss, cupping his face with both of your hands. “I love you, too,” you whispered, staring deep into his eyes, “so, so much, my sweet Halsin.”

Halsin’s heart swelled at your words, to hear them again after a little more than a decade. He still felt the same tickle of nerves in his stomach, and he smiled happily before dipping to kiss you again. Your tongues moved languidly over the other, hot breaths mingling together, noses occasionally rubbing past each other. His heart thumped along to the blissful tune coursing through his veins. “I love you,” the timbre in his voice was lower, passionate. “I love you. I love you,” Halsin murmured again and again, feeling you smile against his lips.

After some time sharing more passionate, languid kisses, you repositioned yourselves in a seated position, sidling your backs up against the nearest couch. Halsin draped an arm around you, pulling into his side as one of your legs lazily nestled between his thick thighs. He felt so incredibly overjoyed, so lucky resting at your side. Your warm, naked bodies fit together perfectly. He was bristling with delight, and if you asked him to remain that way forever, entangled in each other’s arms, he’d do every and anything in his power to make it happen.

“I’ve always loved the bear,” you murmured, your voice filling in the long stretch of comfortable silence. “But I didn’t realize how much I missed the wolf. What a nice surprise.”

Halsin chuckled, the deep rumble softly shaking your head that rested on his broad chest. “Well, I myself sometimes forget the many shapes I can possess. And if I recall,” his voice dropped an octave, starved and daring. “You once took a liking to the tiger as well.”

You shivered at this reminder, inhaling a quick breath. There was a time, long ago, when you and Halsin were engaging in one of your many hunter-prey games. He would chase you through the forest, sometimes as himself, sometimes as the bear. But one time, however, you were pounced on by a great, saber-tooth, its rumbling growl making you moist. It was quite the night, to say the least.

“Mmm, I did indeed.” You sighed, feeling a pleasurable tickle at the memory. “You only showed me the tiger that one night. But there was a time it enticed me again… you were so incredible, so amazingly ravenous so—” Your stomach dropped before you could finish, stricken silence by the memory that flashed in your mind.

“So…?” Halsin hummed, kissing the top of your head.

Your heart rate began to spike, and by the way Halsin shifted to see you better, you knew he felt a change as well. It was too late to gloss over this. “Vlaakith,” you said bitterly.

Halsin tensed immediately. “What?”

“That was the last time I saw the tiger…” you sighed, your fingers unconsciously tracing the same pattern over his chest again and again.

“I…right.” His voice was distant, dry, like he was suddenly so far away.

You wanted to turn over, to hug him and erase the sting of those memories. But you couldn’t stop your thoughts from overriding you, a new curiosity that burned within you. The last thing you saw on the Astral Plane was Halsin, down on his knees, wounded with grief while all your friends surrounded him.

“Did you… did you return home after I…well…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say ‘died’ because it didn’t feel that way to you, not entirely. It was more like you simply fell asleep and then woke up on Earth: a child, into a teen, into an adult. A second life.

Halsin released a deep breath, like he wanted to slam the door to those memories. “I did not.”

You frowned, turning so you could look at him. You sat up, watching him as he gaped aimlessly down the center of your naked bodies. But you remained quiet, sensing he was not finished. You wanted to ask him so much but instead gave him a chance to further explain.

“I took to roaming again, for a little while.” He obliviously ran his fingers up and down your thigh, occasionally squeezing.

“What is a ‘little while?”

“Two years.”

You sulked a little, imagining him wandering through the depths of nature, never staying in one place permanently. It was once something Halsin craved for, something he enjoyed… until he met you. You helped him find his true nature, or at least a new nature. With you, it was easy to plant his roots. He had a home with you, with the community you both built together.

“Were you alone?” you asked, tentatively.

“I was.”

“Oh Halsin,” you whispered, reaching to cup his face. His eyes were starting to glisten, but no tears ever fell.

“I could not go back to our home. I was not ready yet.” He finally looked at you, leaning into your touch.

You felt your own eyes watering now, a stinging heat building in your throat. “I’m so, so sorry. You must’ve been so angry with me, maybe even hated me...” One tear slid down your cheek, then another as a dam of emotions broke through you. The sight of Halsin in the Astral Plane, emotionally broken beyond repair when you faded from his grasp, gone forever in his eyes. Your friends gathered around him, mourning, yelling, enraged. It made you feel the worst case of guilt possible.

It was Halsin’s turn to drag his hand under your chin, furrowing his brows in confusion as his thumb swiped under a fallen tear. “Angry?”

You sniffled a little, struggling to hold eye contact. “For what I did… I- Lae’zel… she must’ve been so angry too.” You remembered moving before thinking, seeing your friend’s life in fatal danger. So you acted. You didn’t think that you would actually—

“No.” The tone in Halsin’s voice made you look at him again. His eyes were calm, gentle, and full of everlasting love. “You would’ve done the same for anyone because that is who you are. I will not lie to you, my heart. Yes, I was irrevocably saddened, heartbroken, and missing you every day. But I was never angry with you, I could never hate you. Never.”

You let him caress your face for a moment, still sniffling softly as his words settled in. The tension in your chest began to ease, but it didn’t fully quell the pain you felt for him. Imagining him alone…

Halsin’s calm voice reached you again. “And Lae’zel, well, she only blamed herself. All of her anger, her rage, she aimed it within, wishing it was her instead.”

You sighed, believing every word. Lae’zel had solidified herself as one of your sisters. You knew without a doubt she would’ve done the same for you, would’ve switched places with you. You could only hope she eventually forgave herself. You peered at Halsin, who was still tenderly caressing your cheek.

“And you, did things…did it get better for you?”

Halsin released a deep breath, smiling meekly. “The wound never healed, but it did get a little better with time. Though I suspect it would’ve taken me into the greatest lengths of old age to get even close to fully healing.”

Your face fell, and you would’ve lowered your entire head were it not for Halsin still holding you.

“As for being alone,” he said, raising your gaze back to him. “It was not forever. Eventually, our friends found me, deep in the forests of Icewind Dale, two months or so after I passed through Neverwinter.”

You perked up at this, your quiet weeping starting to slow. “But you detest bitter winters, and you went so far north?”

“Mm, I did. I ventured mostly as the bear than the man. And I was quite away from civilization but…I seemed to forget how resourceful our friends can be.” A lightness entered his tone, and you couldn’t help but start to smile.

“Resourceful…or they simply asked the people of Neverwinter if they happened to see a tall, hulking elf pass by?”

Halsin laughed, kissing your tear-stained cheek. “Perhaps both. Nevertheless, after some tenacious encouragement, they convinced me to return home, that they would remain with me.”

You turned some more, massaging your hand down one of his arms, idly rubbing his biceps. “And did they stay?”

Halsin grinned. “Oh yes, for a few years actually. They made it feel as close to home again as was possible. All the banter, heavy and light conversations, reminiscing on our love for you… It is through them that the pain became more bearable.”

You gave a small smile, still heartbroken that he had to go through that kind of pain in the first place. But forever thankful for the friends who became your family.

“I’m glad they were there,” you said, sighing, already exhausted from the flood of emotions.

“As am I,” he responded, leaning in to give you a tender kiss. “But eventually it was my turn to encourage them to return to the lives they built. Slowly, they left, one by one.” He paused for a moment, watching you carefully, gently. “Lae’zel lingered the longest, but eventually she too returned to the red dragons, but not without consistent visits every so often.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze drifting off. Again, his updates brought you both joy and a hint of gloom. It was wonderful to hear that everyone had come together for the man you loved most, but it still pained you over the circumstances it was under. As if sensing your emotional conflict, Halsin whispered your name, drawing your attention back to him.

“Do not burden yourself with sorrow for me, my heart.” He took one of your hands and placed it near the center of his chest, over the powerful thumping of his heart. “For mine is no longer in pain. Whether through fate, the Oak Father’s blessings, or sheer luck, you have been brought back to me.”

You exhaled deeply, at a loss for words. You took one of Halsin’s hands and placed it over the center of your ribs, then closed your eyes. You inhaled a deep breath, focusing on the feeling of both of your pulses, the blood pumping throughout your bodies. You felt Halsin breathing in a similar fashion, feeling the heavy rise and steady fall of his chest. In a short time, his heart was beating to the tune of yours, and you couldn’t tell whose heart was whose. This must’ve taken great effort from him, for he was much larger, needing more effort for his blood to pump throughout his body. But still, you remained like that for a while, lost in the rhythm of your hearts.

When you opened your eyes, Halsin soon did the same. With a closed grin, you lifted his hand from your chest and kissed the back of his fingers. You could still hardly believe this night was happening, and yet the other part of you -who once lived in Faerûn- was so used to nights like this, wanting and needing more. Which made you wonder…

“So, assuming you can reopen a portal, do you… plan on going back?” You couldn’t restrain the abrupt flutter of nerves that passed through you. He was almost going to leave tonight, so close to slipping out of your life for who knew how long, possibly forever.

Halsin was silent for a few moments, considering. “That depends, are you by my side?”

A new wave of nerves, but for another reason entirely. “I mean… it would be nice to see everyone again…”

Halsin perked up, beaming, you could almost taste his excitement. “And they would be overjoyed to see you again! Just as I am.”

You returned the smile, his visible joy so infectious. The idea of seeing your friends again, of stepping foot onto Faerûn again was almost a mad thought after spending all this time living on Earth. It was exciting and invigorating, but you didn’t hold that energy for long, your mind pondering as you glanced off to the side.

Halsin calmed some when he noticed the shift in you, bringing his finger beneath your chin. “But your home is here,” he said softly, more so as a statement than a question.

“Yes. But Faerûn is my home, too. They’re my family, and they're still out there…” you sighed, conflicted.

“That is true. And now your family has grown.” He kissed the corner of your lips then the top of your cheek. “You do not have to choose, my love. I know your heart and I believe you have forged great bonds in this new world, ones that cannot easily be abandoned.”

You nodded in agreement, thinking of your closest family and friends. They may all just be human, and not have any special magic that’s innate to them or gifted to them by following a god, but they were still your family. Your Earth family. And yet, so were your companions who you adventured with, battling devils and gods and all manner of foes in between.

Halsin’s gentle, deep voice pulled you out of your mind. “Perhaps just a visit, then? Gale and I did not have much time to discuss how often travel between these realms would be possible, but if we can master opening the proper portal from time to time, I see no reason why you must say goodbye to one world permanently. But first—” he glanced around the calm, firelit, lavish living room. “I would like to see more of your realm for a while, should you wish.”

Your heart soared at this, excitement bubbling within you. It didn’t have to be as complicated as you were making it. And the thought of Halsin staying here with you for however long a while was, made you want to show him as much as possible. All the modern changes but also how nature was just as beautiful here, still unique and wild. But the very first priority: shopping for new clothes. His druidic garbs, as much as you loved them, weren’t exactly with the times. But they’d be perfect for a festival or convention, and the wheels were already spinning for some you could take him to. You suddenly felt eager to gauge his reaction to all the humans who dressed up as creatures and races that truly existed in another reality, on another plane.

“Always the problem solver.” You leaned into him but not too close where you’d break eye contact. “And you do remember the disguise-self spell? Though I very much love your—” You dragged one of your nails up the length of Halsin’s ear, stopping at the tip. He shuddered, eyelids nearly closing. “It would save you from a series of repetitive questions if we humanized them a bit.”

Halsin rumbled a hearty, genuine laugh, quaking your body. “Easily done, as long as I get to show you my true self in private.”

A spark flickered in your belly at his drop in tone. You tenderly kissed the tip of his ear, then his cheek, his jawline. Halsin simply sighed, reveling in the pleasure of your soft, sweet kisses and consistent adoration.

“So it’s settled then,” you said, strategically rubbing your leg over his thigh and accidentally against his newly hardening length. “There will soon be a time for reunions and new introductions. But for now… I’ll enjoy having you all to myself.”

Halsin groaned as you rubbed against him again, his hot blood rushing back to fill the swell of his cock once more.

You turned and swung your legs over him, officially and effectively straddling his hips, still damp for him and dripping more by the second. A new thrill of desire awakened your beating heart and you dipped down, capturing his lips in a needy, starving kiss.

Halsin was quick to reciprocate, his large hands roaming up the length of your back, pulling you into him. But you broke the kiss as a sudden realization entered your mind. Halsin instinctively leaned towards you, chasing your lips, already breathing heavily. You threw your fingers up, placing them on his mouth, halting him with a wicked smile.

“You know,” you began, “I just realized I was the one who was supposed to find you. But instead, you found me. How incredibly unfair of you.” You mock frowned, dragging a finger down his chest.

“And how would you have found me, my love?” He gazed at you, grinning, a curious glint in his sparkling hazel eyes.

“Maybe I would’ve remembered my other life sooner and tried to open a portal of my own.”

Halsin raised an inquisitive brow. “I was under the impression that this realm did not have magic in the way we know.”

“I’m sure I would’ve figured it out by way of science of course,” you teased, laughing lightly which only seemed to make Halsin smile wider. “Which is our version of magic.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, we can pretend this night hasn’t yet happened. I’ll return to Faerûn and wait for you to come find me.”

“Absolutely not!” you exclaimed, intentionally bouncing yourself atop his thighs which caused an abrupt groan from his throat. You glided your hips a little, feeling him twitch beneath you, which pulled the most euphoric sigh from his mouth.

You wanted to keep teasing him with your body, watching his eyelids weaken as he slipped away into the wells of his deepest desire for you. But it was your heart that made the next move as you stared at him sincerely, your expression shifting into something more serious, overcome with the love you had for your druid.

You started softly stroking his cheek, warmth pooling in you at the pure and utter devotion in his eyes. You knew he was only teasing you about leaving, but the thought alone made you feel ill. You had your druid back. He had you back, and neither time nor space had the power to keep you permanently apart. You both had another chance, and whatever may come, you were confident you’d have lifetimes of fresh chances to find each other.

Halsin’s eyes softened as his mouth relaxed into just a hint of a smile as he gazed at you. He could stare into your eyes forever. He could sit there with you forever. He’d create a protective bubble around you both, forgetting the world outside, forgetting time itself. He had always put nature first, but nature, for all the love and reverence he had for it– it could not fill his heart the way you do.

And when you next spoke, you looked directly into his beautiful eyes, ensuring he knew and felt every word as it flowed so lovingly from your lips. “I love you so much, my Halsin. And like I chose all those years ago, I still want to stay by your side. I’m so happy you found me.”

A flicker of gold flashed in his eyes, and his gentle finger brushed under your chin. “And I will always find you. In every life, my heart.”

And that's that! Is it me or is kinky sex draped in love just the best? Also, Bear Halsin is still supreme, I just wanted to show some love to his other wild shapes in this story.

Anywho, thank you so much to everyone who liked, commented and/or reblogged.🖤💜🖤💜 I hope you all enjoyed this emotional reunion, and thank you for taking the time to read this little novella that was supposed to be around 7k words at the most…😬

[demeterlindavis]

Good lord! That Gale fic?! I made a GRAVE error and read it at work and now I have to concentrate while doing business things?! 10000/10 no notes! Thank you so much!!

What if Gale used Invisibility with a consenting Tav?

Ohhh you’re a gem for saying that thank you <3 and I hope you recovered from workplace smut (I have definitely made the same mistake lol)

You put a thought in my brain, anon. I made this little ficlet based on what you suggested :)

18+ MDNI for smut, including: inappropriate use of invisibility spell (consensual), surprise intimate touching, fingering

I wrote this with F!reader as the subject, hope that's ok <3

Words: 1164

Gale wasn’t a man to do the expected. When you permitted him to use an invisibility spell in your—private moments—he wasn’t going to simply sneak up on you while doing dishes or writing letters. He decided to take the time to make things elaborate, unexpected to the nth degree. Which is why, when he finally did execute his plan, you figured he’d forgotten about the conversation. You couldn’t deny your slight disappointment, anticipating a playful surprise as days went on. Never knowing when he’d take action. Only to have nothing happen. 

He was a busy man lately, now that he was a full time professor at Blackstaff and midterm season was peaking. Locking himself in his office for hours at a time, missing dinner if you didn’t bring him a plate after you’d finished. Followed by copious amounts of ‘thank yous’ and kisses on your cheek. Making sure you knew he hadn’t forgotten you, even if he holed himself up for so long. You tried to remain resilient, trust that he was preoccupied and once this time of the semester was complete, he’d be back to his attentive self once again. 

Self care was a good distraction from the hollow silence of the tower. Tara wasn’t even there to lift your spirits, visiting Morena for the night. Instead, you ran yourself an indulgent bath, using extra honey scented bubble bath and rosehip oil. Frothy suds blanketing the top layer of the hot water as you sunk your body into paradise. Letting yourself fall under the spell of relaxation as you tried to get your mind off the isolation. 

The dripping tap and gusts of wind against the glass windowpane were all that could be heard. Humming to yourself your favourite tunes from the bard performance you and Gale attended a week ago. Eyes closing as you became lost in the warm water, the perfect temperature for you. 

Until a shift in the formerly still water catches you off guard. A smooth, tranquil wave of the bubbles splitting in two, as if a hand broke between. Teasing through the gap of your spread knees. You hardly noticed at first, just thought it was a twitch of your leg or stretch of your foot. But the light flow around your skin becomes a soft but evident caress from ankle to calf. Someone is touching you, but you are completely alone. 

You unleash a shaky breath, a fearful but intriguing jerk within your muscles as the invisible touch hastens to move further between your legs. Ripples of water now waving in full force, sizeable enough that you pieced together just what—or who—guided such spontaneous magic. 

“Is that you, professor?” You say, voice hitching with captivated breath as the formless hand brushes against your cunt. Featherlight to the point where you wonder if you even felt it. 

No response, the typical verbosity of your wizard masked for effect. Part of you fizzled with fear, a tiny threat of a question in the back of your mind that asked if Gale was the one touching you or not. But you were more than familiar with the way he circled around your clit, the patterns of which he teased even though he’d swear there was no routine. After months of living with him in Waterdeep, when he’d seldom go a day without ravishing you, you found little trouble recognizing the force to be him.  

You giggle flirtatiously, head lying back against the ridge of the tub as invisible fingertips went from tickling to softly rubbing your clit. Letting your ankle lift through the steamy bubbles and hook over the edge. Opening further for him, biting your lip in sinful satisfaction as you catch the desirous sound of his shaken breath in your ear. Definitely him, drowning in the essence of your soaked up pleasure. You moan a little louder for him, a sign for this new ghost lover of yours to keep going as you climb further toward climax. 

Splashing increases around you as your lower body jolts with pleasure. Gale slides one finger inside, curling upward in the perfect way. Your skin runs red in a lusty blush as you picture what your pussy might look like as an invisible finger thrusts into it. Getting penetrated by nothing yet filled even further as he slips a second finger inside. 

Your moan is almost guttural, ferally chasing that high. You say, “Are you going to show yourself or am I gonna cum all by myself?” 

With his free hand, he snapped his fingers with a loud flick. Gale appeared behind you, resting his arm around the tub as your eyes stared upward at him. Strands of hair hanging around his face, the circles under his chestnut eyes darkened even further with incurable lust. Finished by a smirk so irresistible you’re sure you could explode just by looking at him. 

Moving his free hand to your breast, prodding at the plush flesh, he says, “I’d hardly be able to concentrate if I tried. Watching you come undone for me…I can’t think of anything else.” 

Gale smashed his lips against yours, passionate and fiery. The same pace as his thumb rubbing your clit, fingers thrusting assertively up. His other hand worked your nipple, pinching and twisting in just the right spots to get your entire midsection in tingles. Slipping his tongue into your mouth just as you let out a pleasurable yelp. Bringing you closer and closer to the edge of paradise. 

He doesn’t miss a beat, maintaining rhythm even as your body writhes in ecstasy. Your kiss slips away, mouths still hovering over each other, drinking in your air. You shudder out, “D-don’t stop…nearly there…”

His breath is hot, keeping your foreheads together. Leading you up and up that hill of no return. He growled, “Yes, good. Do it for me, do it now.” 

The crackle of his voice is enough to fully tip you over the edge. Your sex blossoms with a wet, intense orgasm that spreads throughout your lower body. Gale laughs quietly, taking in the satisfaction of finally unravelling you after so long waiting to strike with that invisibility spell. Days of thinking about the perfect time, now coming to fruition as you fall apart around his fingers. He can’t wait for the rest of the evening. 

Your body calms down, settling into the lukewarm water filled with soap lines and sweat. Gale gives you no time before he scoops both arms under you, lifting you from the tub in a bridal style carry. You giggle as you hug his shoulders, rubbing your nose against his. 

“Thank you for lifting me,” you say, “My legs are like jelly after that.” 

He chuckled, “Well, it’s the least I could do. Considering I’m about to take you to the bed and make the rest of your body—like jelly.” 

“Oh? Invisible or not?” You asked. 

As he flipped you onto the mattress and climbed over you, he said, “Why not both?”

[demeterlindavis]

Chapter 2: You're too old to be so shy

pairing: astarion x bard!f!reader word count: 5,395 warnings: swearing, mentions of sex and innuendos, implied past sexual abuse/assault, nothing explicitly mentioned, please let me know if anything else should be tagged

a/n: here it is! this has also been proofread twice! still writing chapter 3 but i'm mostly done. hoping to be upload chapter 3 this coming sunday. :)

though i'm still a little sick i am feeling much better!

Your camp is not suited for more than your traveling party. That much is made obvious as soon as the first few tieflings arrive once the sun has set and the stars have come out. 

Gale has been toiling away to prepare enough food for the sizable crowd you expected, and enlisted the help of both Wyll and Scratch—the latter to help gather kindling for the three fires the mad wizard has going on. As soon as you spot Mol, you immediately fix her a look that lets her know you expect impeccable behaviour, if only for tonight. The tiefling girl makes a show of crossing her heart and spitting on the ground. Not... a fantastic response, but at least you can spend an easier night knowing that the ringleader of a bunch of restless children won’t be up to her usual misdeeds. Probably.

As soon as you’ve redressed in your casual clothes, you’re scooped up by Zevlor, who insists on speaking to the entirety of the assembled crowd to sing your praises. When Alfira starts playing a gentle tune along with him, it becomes quite literal. Rolan conjures some pretty fireworks, Volo joins in with Zevlor’s off-key serenade.

It’s a mess, and, blessedly, Komira presses a bottle of some kind of alcohol in your hand.

“It’s one of our better bottles,” she says, conspiratorially, though how loudly she has to speak to be heard over everything else defeats the effort of being sneaky. “As thanks for helping our girl.”

You laugh a little, trying not to sound as uneasy as you feel. “You’ve already thanked me, though,” you say, pulling on the chain to show you are, in fact, wearing her locket. Komira’s face lights up.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d wear it!” she exclaims, and you frown a little.

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s a pendant, it’s made to be worn.”

“Oh, well it’s such a small enchantment,” Komira says, rubbing at her collarbones. “I just—I had figured you might keep it to sell, you know?”

“Absolutely not,” you say, perhaps a little harshly. You try to soften your tone when you speak next when you see Komira’s taken aback. “I’m sorry, I meant to say that something like this can’t just be sold. The value this locket has isn’t just gold.”

She sighs, just a little, and nods. “Right, thank you. It’s just so strange to be...”

You nod in understanding. Respected, appreciated, treated like an equal; given their initial reception by Kagha and half the grove, you can see how she wouldn’t assume anyone else would have the best of interests.

You put a hand to her upper arm and try to smile in a way you hope is reassuring.

“Hey, no time to be sad or apprehensive. Your family have a long road ahead, you should have fun while you can.”

You and Komira part ways shortly after that. You fiddle with the locket’s chain as you fulfill your social expectations for the night. It’s exhausting; Zevlor catches you another three times during the night, and every time he seems even more intoxicated than the last. Lae’zel walks up to you and confesses just how arousing you are when you fight with blood on your face.

She is the first person whose advances you have to rebuff tonight.

You speak with Halsin, glad to see him among you. Your conversation is lovely and easy, until you try to convince him to mingle with the rest of you. The way he looks down at you—eyes half-lidded and a set to his jaw that you’ve become familiar with—makes you excuse yourself fairly quickly. That isn’t a conversation you feel like having with him, of all people.

Karlach excitedly tells you about Dammon and his offer to help the infernal engine roaring in her chest before showing off and making you try some of her... dance moves? Footwork? You’ve drunk most of the bottle Komira offered you, so you gladly follow and stumble along. You wish her a good night when you’re out of breath and move along.

Shadowheart and Wyll seem to be engaged in quite the debate. You watch them for a while, as Gale hands you a bowl of something that smells amazing, and pay them no mind when you realize they have no intent on murdering each other.

“Haven’t seen our pale friend in quite some time today,” Gale mentions while absent mindedly tossing some scraps behind him and into Scratch’s eager maw. “Oh, well, speak of the devil.”

You turn around to see Astarion emerging from his tent. He almost immediately snatches a bottle of wine from an unsuspecting, far-too-drunk Danis as he walks by.

“He escaped the grove the same time I did,” you say, distracted, following the vampire with your eyes until he settles under a mostly-bare tree, with his back against its bark. When you look back at Gale to say something else, he looks shocked. “What? You didn’t notice I left almost immediately after talking to Zevlor?”

“You left and didn’t tell anyone? On your own?”

You cringe, can tell that there’s a lecture coming on, and raise your hands in defense. “Look, I was covered in blood and gore and was profoundly adverse to socializing in that state. I think it’s perfectly normal and reasonable of me to excuse myself under those conditions.”

Gale fixes you a disapproving look but nods as he moves to spear a fish grilling over another fire. “Can’t hold that against you, I suppose. You would’ve smelled revolting after a few hours.”

“I’m glad you understand,” you reply dryly.

Gale sends you away once you’ve finished the grilled meat and vegetables he’s given you. You spend some time playing with Alfira as she sings, manage to rope Karlach into providing percussions by enthusiastically thumping on an overturned, probably-empty barrel. When everyone is well and enthralled, you discreetly leave your post by Alfira and let the tiefling continue the entertainment.

You begin to wander when your eyes catch the back of Astarion’s head. He’s speaking to one of the tiefling women—Pandirna, you think, pleased to see she’s still standing on her own two feet. She does, however, look very drunk and Astarion looks very uncomfortable. He doesn’t flinch when Pandirna puts a hand on his bicep and laughs, but he immediately looks like a coiled snake ready to strike. You look around quickly and wave down a tiefling who looks... well at least she looks slightly less drunk than Pandirna does, so she’ll do.

You approach tiefling and vampire with a smile. Pandirna immediately begins waving at you in large, exaggerated motions.

“Hey there,” you greet, taking her hand off Astarion’s arm and taking it into your own. “How about we get you something to eat?” When the woman you had waved down walks over, you quietly ask her to take Pandirna somewhere quiet to rest and get something in her stomach. Or... maybe empty her stomach, you’re not quite sure. You hear Astarion sigh behind you when the tiefling women are out of earshot.

“Thank you, the only thing worse than this wine are her drunken attempts at what she calls seduction.”

You can’t help the bark of laughter that leaves your mouth. No, you don’t suppose you would be terribly receptive to the inebriated stumblings of a group of people you hardly know, let alone have barely spoken more than a complete sentence to.

“I don’t suppose this means you have to come rescue me next time someone wants to declare their undying lust for me?”

Astarion snorts in his wine but otherwise doesn’t offer an answer. You motion for him to move, and lean your back against the same tree. Your shoulders are pressed together, and this is perhaps a little closer than you’d otherwise like to be to anyone, but with decent wine in your body and the small spark of satisfaction of a job well done, you find you don’t quite mind.

You especially don’t mind if Astarion doesn’t mind, and he seems quite content being next to you like this—or, at least, he doesn’t seem terribly bothered by it, which is as good a sign as any.

“You know,” he starts, looking out onto the revelry and taking a moment to look at another of Rolan’s firework displays. It’s... messier, this time. You think maybe he’s gotten into the wine, too. “I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I'd be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I'm here...“

Astarion takes a swig of the wine bottle like he’s forgotten what’s in it and screws his face in disgust. “I hate it, this is awful.”

You bend over with your laughter, this time. When you manage to lift yourself back up straight, you feel your chest swell with a strange kind of pride in seeing Astarion smirk. Nothing toothy, condescending or rude about it.

“Oh come on! It can’t be that bad,” you breathe, brushing hair out of your face. “Think about all the goblins you got to kill.”

Astarion makes a show of thinking about it and tilts his head in agreement. “True. That was fun,” he says, taking another swig of the wine, before immediately pulling it away.

“Give me that you big baby,” you mutter, swiping the bottle from his hand and lifting the mouth to your lips.

Right, so it’s not amazing wine, but you’ve definitely had worse. You think for a second that it might make for great cooking wine when Astarion speaks up again.

“But what do I get for all my hard work? A pat on the head and vinegar for wine,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “I’m just looking for a little more excitement,” he ads, and leans in closer to you after you bring the bottle down. “A little more fun.”

You realize you’re a little too drunk for this conversation, a little too late.

“Hm, right, fun,” you repeat, trying to glean what Astarion’s trying to say. “What.. kind of fun are we considering? Because I’d rather you not eviscerate anyone if it’s all the same to you.”

Astarion sighs, a long and weary sound, as he rolls his eyes.

“I’m not going to—sex, darling, passion? Fun? Have you heard of it?”

A strange and unpleasant sensation rises through your spine, balls in your throat, before heavily settling in your gut.

“Not with you, just to be clear,” Astarion adds quickly, and you think maybe he sees the dread in the bead of sweat that rolls down your temple, the way your knuckles are white around the wine bottle. “I mean—can you imagine? Urgh, no.”

He’s not convincing anyone. Even with... two? Three? Bottles of wine, you can hear the frantic overcompensation in his voice.

“No need to be mean about it, gods,” you answer more or less half-hartedly, taking another swig of the wine bottle. Which is empty. You groan and toss it somewhere behind you where it won’t get away.

“Oh don’t misunderstand me,” Astarion starts, turning to lean his shoulder on the tree to better look at you. Look down at you. You’re beginning to resent how tall everyone is in comparison to you. “If our circumstances were different...” he trails off. Begins to look you up and down in a way you think is meant to be appreciative, but his eyes eventually stop their roaming just above your chest.

“You say you wouldn’t sleep with me,” you bring your hand up to fiddle with the locket’s chain again. “But it lacks an awful amount of conviction if you’re just blatantly staring at my breasts.”

Astarion laughs quietly and turns back to lean against the tree and face the ongoing celebration. You want to ask what he was looking at, just now. It wasn’t you, you know that much. But you wonder which memory got pulled to the forefront of his mind. Wish you could pin it down and dissect it and remove all the necrotic tissues from it. Give it back cleansed, blessed and free from—

“Yes?” Astarion looks at you from the corner of his eye before looking back out at the party. You... hadn’t realized you were staring so intensely. Or how far away from you your thoughts had gotten. “If you keep staring at me like that, someone’s going to get the wrong idea.”

You exhale sharply through your nose—halfway between scoffing and laughing. There’s a retort burning the tip of your tongue, but it feels a little too sharp even to your dulled senses. You instead press your hands to your warm cheeks in an effort to cool them down. At least this much you can blame on the alcohol.

You turn back to ask something else—probably about what his plans for dinner are—but your thoughts are immediately knocked out of your head when you catch a glimpse of something against Astarion’s skin. His shirt has parted and billowed just enough, in just such as a way that you can see a braided leather cord. A very hastily braided leather cord you remember stringing a pendant on.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. Astarion is a gods damned feral cat. You absolutely never know when he’ll react well to anything you do, especially if it’s anywhere remotely near the  domain of kindness. As far as you can figure, though he hasn’t gotten into any amount of depth of detail about it, his existence as a vampire hasn’t been the gentlest. You can’t say you understand, but you can begin to see why, after decades if not centuries of mistreatment, someone may be excessively apprehensive and wary of any perceived kind act.

It ignites something raw and furious in your wine and exhaustion-addled mind. Makes you want to consume every ounce of cruelty Astarion has ever been fed to replace it with something better. Not softer, you don’t think he’s fond of softness in anything but his clothing. But something brighter, warmer. Kinder.

“Darling, I think you need to go lay down,” Astarion says quietly, right next to your ear. So caught up in your own thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him leaning into you. You feel the rumble of his chuckle more than you hear it. When he pulls away, you can’t place his expression. Guarded, then. “Let me walk you back to—”

“No,” you shake your head before leaning it back against the tree and closing your eyes. “It’s going to be noisy here for a while still. No point lying down somewhere I can’t rest.”

“Oh, of course, now you develop high standards,” Astarion bemoans, but moves away from his spot and walks around to your other side. “So tell me, where were you planning to sleep for the night?”

You shrug and nod vaguely in the direction of the woods. “There’s a clearing somewhere in the woods. I’ll just... lie down and rest for a bit, until things die down.”

Astarion rolls his eyes again. “Alone? Drunk, with a murder cult nipping at our heels, frothing at the mouth?” You wrinkle your nose. Well, yes, of course it sounds bad when he says it like that. It doesn’t even occur to argue your state of inebriation. There’s another few seconds where he crosses his arm, taps the toe of his foot and looks around. You figure maybe he’s trying to find someone to pass you over to, but he doesn’t even make it halfway through scanning the camp before releasing a put-upon sigh.

“I suppose keeping watch while you have a cat nap can’t be much worse than looking over this bunch.” Astarion uncrosses his arms and, with a hand at your back, slowly begins to guide you toward the treeline.

“I still don’t see why I need a sitter,” you grumble, snatching a sloppily folded blanket off the back of a cart. You shrug your shoulders when Astarion raises a brow at you. You’ll just have to make sure to return it before they leave in the morning.

The clearing you’re led to is far enough from camp—and, consequently, far enough from the boisterous celebration—that you can’t hear the sound of Aldira’s lute anymore. You can’t even make out anything being shouted. Your shoulders drop when you let out a deep breath. Though the moon isn’t full, her light is bright, and feels like it washes your nerves and mends their fraying. You rush to the center of the clearing to unfold and lay the blanket on the soft, overgrown grass.

When you lay down, you carefully place your hands just below your chest, over your stomach. You hadn’t planned on sleeping or trancing, really. Just get some needed alone time. Some space to exist without having to worry about choosing your words perfectly or schooling your expression into collected confidence. You glance up at the moon and sigh, content, before closing your eyes.

“This is wonderful,” you breathe out. “Thank you, Astarion.”

You hear him pause as he moves to sit by your hip. He settles in rather quickly after that. “Yes, well,” he starts, with an air of detachment even you can tell is forced. “It wouldn’t do for our noble, valiant leader to be exhausted. I rather like my odds with you.”

You don’t hum or otherwise acknowledge what he’s said. His choice of words tickles at something in the back of your mind, but you’re not quite sure what. It’s strangely discomfiting all the same.

“Wyll and Lae’zel are perfectly capable of taking the helm,” you reply, adjusting your shoulders and settling deeper into the padded ground. “I’m not sure why they haven’t, honestly. Letting a bard lead should be a terrible idea.”

“And yet here we all remain,” Astarion replies back, but there’s a softness in his voice that does make you frown. When you open your eyes, you see that he’s sat, cross-legged, with his back to you. Offering you some kind of privacy. You close your eyes and try to smooth over your expression.

What a complicated man.

“Through sheer dumb luck, you mean.” You hear the sound of a page turning. You hadn’t even noticed Astarion had brought a book along. “If Shadowheart hadn’t happened to have that gith artifact, we’d all be illithid by now.”

“And yet you took her under your wing without knowing that of her.”

“Of course. She was conscious and in the same situation as I was. It would have been unconscionable to leave her in that pod.”

Astarion hums but doesn’t reply for a moment. Long enough for you to hear the sound of another page turning. “You gained a follower nonetheless.”

“She is not a—”

“You can deny it all you want, darling,” he interrupts you, and this time you lean up on your elbows when you open your eyes. Astarion’s gaze remains fixed on whatever he’s reading. “But as far as most of our... party is concerned, you’re the only reason any of us are still alive and in possession of our faculties. Of ourselves. We’d follow you into the fires of Avernus if you had a good enough reason to believe it would save us.”

You frown at the back of his head. You can’t tell if his last words were spoken with venom or reverence. You don’t know what to say to that, and so you say nothing at all. It’s high praise coming from someone with Astarion’s temperament; you don’t want to do or say anything that would tarnish that.

It’s also a heavy burden to lay at your feet.

“Best not to dwell on it, dear,” Astarion says, almost a whisper.

“Right,” you exhale sharply, slowly lowering yourself back down onto the blanketed ground. “Don’t dwell on the fact that everyone’s continued cooperation and therefore survival hinge upon my ability to make split-second decisions in the midst of the absolute worst conditions I’ve ever been in and have no idea how to deal with. No pressure, nothing to dwell on there.”

Astarion makes a sound that’s somewhere between a sigh and an annoyed groan. You hear him snap his book shut. He leans over to lay the book somewhere near your feet. He stays there for a moment, long enough for you to contemplate reaching out, but rights himself and turns around to face you before you can move. The look he fixes you makes you feel like a child being scolded, and you recoil from him accordingly.

“Hells, woman, have you ever relaxed a day in your life? Have you no idea how to decompress?” You open your mouth to answer—a rebuttal half-formed on the tip of your tongue—but Astarion waves you into silence. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You are going to lie down like an obedient little pet, close your eyes, think of whatever saccharine, tooth-rotting thing brings you comfort, and you will rest.”

You feel your face warm at being called a ‘little pet’, but ultimately simply huff before closing your eyes. You fold your hands carefully over your stomach and do your best to think of ‘saccharine’ things.

When you actually decide to follow Astarion’s instructions, you try to think of the forest at the edge of your family’s property. The few nights a year when your whole family could get together and enjoy food, games and music. You think of Scratch, and of the small owlbear cub you’ve seen creeping around camp when it thinks no one else is watching. You think about how, a few nights ago, you were able to bathe in the cool water by the shore in bright moonlight.

You can’t help but to think that all these moments may be the last you ever get to experience those things. Selfishly, you wish that you could at least have someone familiar with you. A friend from your childhood, maybe, or a distant relative. You wonder if maybe even a past lover would be a comforting presence to you now.

You wince when you hear Astarion sigh heavily, yet again. You expect him to speak right away, but open your eyes when he remains silent. Even from where you lay, you can tell that he’s measuring his words.

“There is... something I can do to help,” Astarion starts, slowly, turning to face you. The look in his eyes as he peers down at you makes your stomach flip in a way you’re not sure is excitement or apprehension. “How do you feel, when I feed from you?”

Frightened, vulnerable and excited, is what you immediately think. You frown and bite the inside of your cheek while you take a few seconds to properly consider the question.

“Warm, at first,” you say, tilting your head back to look up at the sky. “Then cold. Light-headed, after a while. Everything feels lighter, I think. Like I’m floating.”

Astarion hums in acknowledgement. He leans over you, bracing a hand on the other side of your neck. You think you know where this is going.

“And how’s your head, like that?” You don’t expect the tadpole wriggling in your skull, and so you don’t think. You simply allow him into your mind. He does you the courtesy of aiming directly for a single set of memories; that first time he bit you.

You can almost feel Astarion recoil when he feels the terror and beginnings of resignation that licked at you that night. The shock after waking up with a man looming over you that hadn’t been after sex, and the immediately ensuing relief. Blood?, you remember thinking. That’s all?

You see Astarion again in your memories, and his bewildered expression in the face of your lack of anger makes sense, now. Your relief and near-amusement at the time make sense to him now, too. And then there was the bite, itself.

The pain wasn’t unlike what you’ve experienced with tattoos before. Sharp, at first, but eventually the pain fades. Your mind scrambles to hold onto the pain, because the intimacy of having a man with his fangs buried in your neck is perhaps just this side of too much to handle.

And then you feel your mind start to clear. If your thoughts had been a heavy fog, your progressive bloodless state lifts it. Leaves room for little else, in fact; there is Astarion’s heavy breathing beside your ear, his weight carefully kept just above your body, and the smell of brandy, rosemary and... another herb you can’t remember.

You wonder how it was for him. A fleeting thought, but it makes your tadpole squirm. You catch brief flashes of yourself from Astarion’s eyes before an unspeakable feeling floods you. Something like burning, but invigorating. Like the best meal you’ve ever had and the most restful night’s sleep, all sliding down your throat. Something else begins to burn, but Astarion pulls away from both you and the strange connection with a choked sound.

You struggle to catch your own breath, for many reasons.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” you begin to apologize, but when you look over at the vampire his eyes are round and glassy. It’s an expression so sincerely gobsmacked and floored that you can’t help but be shocked in turn.

“That... I saw myself. You—that was me.” Your concern at his sudden lack of eloquence tumbles around your head only for a second until you realize why he’s so shocked, and why, of all things, his own face is what he’s gleaned from your connection.

It makes sense that a man deprived of his own reflection for hundreds of years would be shocked to see it. “Yeah,” you say quietly, nod minutely. You bite the inside of your cheek and argue with yourself for a moment over whether or not you should continue. Looking at the tension in the rogue in front of you, you figure maybe a bit of humour wouldn’t be amiss. “Oh, don’t act so shocked. People tell you how breathtakingly handsome you are all the time.”

Astarion’s brow furrows just a bit, and he waves his hand. Again, he seems to be looking somewhere beyond you. “None of that is relevant,” he says, a bit harshly, and then remains quiet. You give a single nod and look away.

A few minutes pass by, and you’ve just closed your eyes when he speaks up again.

“I’m not fond of the score right now,” he says quietly, and when you open your eyes he’s determinedly looking away from you.

“Wasn’t aware we were keeping track of anything but magical items and smokepowder kegs,” you reply tentatively.

“You allowed me to drink your blood,” Astarion begins, and you catch him glancing over at you for a second, almost like he’s making sure you’re paying attention. “You’ve allowed me to see my own face, after two hundred years,” he continues, drumming his fingers on either of his thighs. “And you’ve let me remain among you despite what I am.”

“Well, hold on, that’s—”

“Please, spare me.” Astarion’s tone is a little drier and stings a little more, as he holds a hand up to quiet you. “You can say that it’s ‘just what’s done’ all you want, the vast majority of the world disagrees with you and acts accordingly.” His hands have stilled, instead gripping his thighs with white knuckles.

You can’t help but feel sheepish. That is, in fact, more or less what you would have replied with. This is simply how you’ve learned to treat people, if given half a chance. Even if the person reaching a hand out has a dagger hidden in the other. You can try and put on a face and say that bards can only write about people if they’re alive to do things to write about, but that’s never been your primary motivation.

“Rest,” Astarion says after a moment. Gentler, softer than before. “If we’re going to go find this... crèche, we’re going to need you to have your wits about you.”

You cease the fidgeting of your hands and flatted them against your ribs.

“Just make sure we’re back at camp when it dies down,” you request, settling deeper into the blanketed ground. “You can’t keep watch over me all night.”

Astarion scoffs. “Of course, dear.”

You feel hazy and heavy when Astarion rouses you. Rather than trance—rather than chancing being presented with things you didn’t want to quite think of yet—you’d chosen to sleep, for the first time in a long time. A light, pleasant and dreamless slumber that left you feeling almost drunk upon waking. Your bleary eyes can barely make out where you are or where you’re going as you walk, but you trust the firm pressure at your back guiding you.

You grab at Astarion’s arm before he turns to leave you at your tent.

“Did you, do you need to fee–to drink?,” you ask, stumbling over your words in an effort to speak them before your fatigue sweeps them away.

You think the look on his face is consideration; you recognize the shift in his gaze, the tension in his brow. You feel it on your own face often enough when put in a position to make any choice on behalf of your companions.

“Darling,” he starts slowly, pulling his arm away just enough to be able to grasp your hand. It feels pleasantly cool against your sleep-warmed skin. “You’ve let me have you not two nights ago.” You swallow thickly at the phrasing. “I’ll manage perfectly fine.”

You drop your eyes to your joined hands. “I’ll trust your judgment, then.”

When you raise your gaze back to Astarion, you’re finding he’s now contemplating your hand in his. He looks leagues away for a few seconds, and you wish you could ask him what he was thinking about it. Or, maybe it would be fairer to say you wish you could trust that you’d get a straight answer from him if you did.

So you stay quiet.

“I suppose a... sip couldn’t hurt.” Astarion moves forward, forcing you to take a step back, as he holds the fabric of your tent open for you. “Best to lay down.”

Your ears feel hot and itchy, and you feel your cheeks beginning to burn. It’s terrible enough to get some kind of excited about this, but the embarrassment you feel for it is almost worse.

You make quick work of making room for and laying on your bedroll—but not so quick as to look over-eager. Astarion kneels patiently by your side as you lay down and take a deep breath. It’s only when he’s barely a hair’s breadth away from your neck—his lips close enough to brush the skin there—that he speaks up.

“This will only hurt a little.”

It’s a lie, but at least it’s what you hope is a well meaning one. You carefully exhale and make sure to release the tension in your neck and shoulder as fangs pierce your neck. It always burns, more than just a pinch, and the initial feeling of intrusion is strange and uncomfortable.

And then the pain fades, slowly and then all at once, and you’re finally able to take a deep breath.

Astarion doesn’t linger long. You don’t think he’s had more than a few mouthfuls before pulling away, softly pressing a cool thumb to the small wounds. He wipes at the corners of his mouth with his free hand. Fingers smooth over your neck before he rights himself.

“Thank you,” Astarion says, and his tone, combined with half-lidded eyes, makes something run up your spine and settle at the base of your skull. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

And soon, it’s as though there was never anyone else with you in your tent. You don’t know what you should attribute your light-headedness to, or the strange rhythm your heart is drumming against your ribs. You think perhaps this is why you hadn’t let yourself genuinely sleep in so long. Your brain’s foggy, your body feels loose and light and your thoughts slip away from you like sand between your fingers.

You close your eyes against the sudden thought that you wish Astarion would have stayed, just a bit longer.

You exhale, deeply, almost a sigh, and you pretend that all your irrelevant, childish thoughts of vampires float away in the air, too.

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[demeterlindavis]

Pictured: Gale rolling a nat 1 on his insight check

[demeterlindavis]

The Sunwalker's Gift

Synopsis: Legends say those who were cursed to live in the shadows are not lost. There is a ring, a ring of incredible power that allows its vampiric wearer to walk in the sun once more. If there is one thing you know, it is that Astarion—your partner, your lover—deserves to own this ring more than anyone. You put yourself in great danger to acquire it for him without his knowledge but in the end, you succeed. So now, what magical piece of jewellery would be more suitable to propose to the vampire spawn you want to spend the rest of your life with than this one?

A/N: Who’s the goose that’s on the loose…

Words: 1694 Warnings: so much fluff, mentions of smut, SPOILERS FOR ACT 3

Blood, tears, sweat, another suicide mission. The rusty ring in your hand almost appeared as if it hadn’t been worth it to risk your neck and sanity for it but appearances were deceptive. This unassuming piece of jewellery in your hand held the answer to Astarion’s prayers. The very object that had made this long and exhausting search so rewarding in the end.

He didn’t know about it yet. He had no idea you’d had a lead with this legendary object at all. And after months of relentless and disappointing searches, Astarion had all but decided the ring was just another myth created to mock him in his misery… to the very point you had begun to doubt your decision to stop him from finishing Cazador’s work and letting him ascend.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head to chase the thought away. No. Walking in the sun was not worth spoiling his mind, his very soul—regardless of the fact you would have never left his side. You’d decided that the night he had confessed his feelings for you. This man was to be yours, forever.

Now you’d give this ring a little bit of polishing, and a bath in vinegar and soap and then you were certain it would look as good as new. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face, to see the first moment he slid it on his finger and stepped back into the daylight without tadpoles and sacrificed souls. Nervousness washed over you when you pictured your plan in your head but there was no doubt—only excitement and impatience.

Today would change his life for the better. Perhaps one day, if he so wished, you would even find a way to cure his vampirism altogether but for now, you wanted him to have this gift.

Your shared bedroom was empty, the sheets unmade and the smell of sex still lingering in the air. You were still getting used to the nocturnal lifestyle, of course. Staying up with him all night and sleeping during the day was messing with your inner body clock but it was a small price to pay to be with him.

The wooden door leading out to the balcony was open, the barest hint of light pouring through the gap. You approached it on bare feet, the hinges creaking when you pushed the door open further.

“There you are,” he mused without turning around. Astarion was leaning against the metal railing of the balcony, staring into the darkness. A few torches here and there lit the still-sleeping city as the sun began to crawl up from behind the hills, the chirping birds urging it on to start the morning. He truly was a sight to behold—shirtless and pale, even with the everlasting scars Cazador had inflicted on his back, you were overcome with the urge to drag him back to bed and have your way with him in an instant. You did that a lot these days—giving him pleasure upon pleasure without asking for anything in return. Astarion had learned in a rather rewarding way what your mouth and tongue could do for him. Teaching him to be intimate with you in a both consensual and sensual way was a task you were happy to pursue.

You hummed in response, walking up to him to sling your arms around his middle from behind, the ring hidden in the pocket of your morning robe. You pressed the side of your face against his back, his cold skin cooling your heated cheek.

He had been doing this a lot lately. Dragging out the final moments of the night, catching a glimpse of the sun and Baldur’s Gate below him before retreating to the shadows again to ensure his own survival. No more. You sighed.

“What is it, darling?”

“Nothing… I just… love you.”

Astarion chuckled—a barely audible sound coating your heart like sweet honey. At last, he turned around to face, your arms still wrapped around him. You had to look up to meet those crimson-red eyes and the gentle smile tugging on his lips.

“I love you too.”

“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again, my love.”

“Nor I from you,” he purred. His smile was gentle, genuine. You’d fought hard to make him drop that wall of feigned confidence and reveal the real feelings lying underneath. Now, you couldn’t get enough of it. “Let’s head back inside. I’m starting to feel… warm.”

“Just a moment, please.”

The vampire spawn raised his eyebrows but waited nonetheless.

“You said forever,” you went on, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Yes?” He dragged the word out and smirked, reciprocating your hug now; his palms resting against your waist. His closeness calmed your nerves, encouraging you without him knowing.

“I… I want forever to start now. I want us to belong to each other and I want everyone to know.”

“Oh my… you’re feeling quite poetic today, my sweet. I don’t object.”

The first sunbeams hit the stone floor of the balcony upon his playful teasing and you could tell that he was getting nervous, eager to flee to the bedroom to avoid the angry burns he expected any moment now.

With a deep breath, you freed yourself from his embrace and took a step back to get down on one knee. It was then you saw the surprise dominating his beautiful face, his lips parting. Determined, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the shiny ring, holding it out to him.

“Astarion Ancunín… will you make me the happiest woman of Faerûn and marry me?”

It took him a heartbeat to remember how to draw oxygen himself, it seemed. He muttered your name under his breath, red eyes fixed on the plain but powerful ring in your hands. He didn’t recognise it, of course, didn’t expect it to be what it was. He had no reason to believe that this unimpressive piece of jewellery was about to return something to him which should have never been taken in the first place.

“Marry you?” he repeated, almost unbelieving. “I… I do, love. I want… yes.”

Yes. You smiled, the weight of uncertainty falling from your shoulders at once. You took his hand in his, sliding the ring on his finger and rose to your feet again, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him.

Astarion melted into your affectionate treatment without hesitation, yet you could tell he was holding back. Uneasy, he pulled away.

“Darling, as much as I would like to savour this moment, could we celebrate our engagement inside?” He glanced at the sun rising higher and higher. Any second now the balcony would be fully submerged in its warm light.

Instead of responding to his plea, however, you only smiled at him. You were certain this would work—you had seen the ring in action after all, made sure it was safe before you took it to your love. You had met up with Dalyria, one of Astarion’s spawn siblings, in secret, only two days ago for this exact reason and she had volunteered to try the effects of the ring—saying it was the least she could do in return after Astarion had freed them.

“I need to get inside!” You reached for his hands when he panicked, holding him in place. Only seconds later, you were both drowned in the soft morning sunlight.

Astarion squeezed his eyes shut and flinched, expecting the burn and the pain the day brought him—but nothing happened. He remained standing, the sunbeams warming his skin.

“What… what is… how is this possible?” he breathed out.

“The Sunwalker’s Gift. It’s the ring, Astarion.”

His red eyes widened, disbelief swinging in his smooth voice as he looked down on his ring-clad finger to admire the shining piece of jewellery reflecting the sunlight. “But… but how? How did you get it?”

“The mage we found and spoke to contacted me a few weeks back. He put me in touch with a bard who meddled with vampires before—two of which, after a couple of pints, revealed that the ring was every vampire’s secret dream and rumoured to have been buried with a deceased vampire lord in the lands north of Rivington a couple of centuries ago. After that, the mage and I returned to do more research and discovered where his tomb is located.”

“And you went to this tomb… alone? Have you lost your mind? Gods, anything could have happened to you!” He was trying his best to be upset, truly. You had to hold back a giggle when his voice went a little high-pitched. It was flattering knowing that the only person this gorgeous man had ever truly shown honest concern for was you.

“I wasn’t alone, I promise. I had help. Halsin and Gale accompanied me.”

“Halsin I can understand. But… Gale?” He pretended to gag, eliciting another childish giggle from you. But then, his tone became more serious once again.

“You did this for me… I…” The very hint of an embarrassed laugh clung to his words. “I’m not sure I even deserve you.”

“You do. I love you. And you’re stuck with me now. You just agreed to be my husband, remember?”

“How could I?” Astarion muttered your name again. There was admiration and affection as it left his lips like a prayer. You had no doubt that part of him was still processing what this engagement ring really meant. It was too early still for joyous screams and running across the flower fields hand in hand. “Thank you. This is… I did not dare dream of this and yet you continue to surprise me. I just… thank you, my love.”

You nodded. “I told you all I want is for you to be happy. I would have turned every single rock in Faerûn to find this ring for you. Now come on. We have a long day ahead of us and a wedding to plan.”

Astarion smirked, his red eyes sparkling with joy, relief and affection. “Darling… there is nothing I’d like more.”

A/N: I am so crazy for him this is abnormal even for me. I'LL BE GETTING A GROUP PHOTO WITH THE WHOLE MAIN CAST AT MCM, I'M SO HYPED!

[demeterlindavis]

Ao3 . Ko-fi

ASTARION

⤷ Book - Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.

⤷ The Arrangement (on-going series): masterlist

⤷ Lockpicking - You ask Astarion to teach you how to lockpick and things get... out of hand.

⤷ Pointy Ears - You accidentally find just how sensitive Astarion is when it comes to a certain part of his body…

⤷ Curiosity - Astarion wishes to satisfy his curiosity when it comes to breastfeeding... and comes up with a proposition that is mutually beneficial.

⤷ Oral Fixation - Astarion is quite sure you are going to drive him insane from how adorable and clueless you are when eating those juicy fruits around him... and he just has to do something about it.

⤷ Unexpected - Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

⤷ Breathe - Astarion is more than eager to show you the perks of not breathing.

⤷ Questions - Your curiosity drives you to ask Astarion a very unexpected question, and he's more than happy to give you a proper reply.

⤷ Patience - You are too eager to ride Astarion, and he proposes a solution to your impatience. After all, experience is the best teacher and impatience its fiercest enemy.

⤷ Backfire - You should have known better than to make Astarion jealous, and now you are left to deal with the consequences.

⤷ Reading Session - Astarion walks in on you reading a rather suggestive book, and far be it from him to interrupt your learning process. 

⤷Trance - Astarion is having a hard time trancing, and you offer to help him out in more ways than one.

⤷ Fever - You're running a fever, and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.

⤷ Everything - You're used to staying still whenever Astarion feeds on you. This time, he wants you to feel everything.

⤷ Comfortable - Astarion walks in on you in a rather compromising situation. Naturally, he offers to help, but then you ask him to promise you something that he was not expecting…

(LINKS ARE CURRENTLY NOT WORKING - I'LL FIX THEM SOON 🙏)

MIGUEL O'HARA

✫ 18+:

⤷ Tension - Miguel walks in on you late at night doing something unexpected, which makes things really awkward afterwards…

⤷ For Science - There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?

⤷ Intimacy - Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.

⤷ Perfect Morning - Miguel’s definition of a perfect morning involves a comfortable bed and being buried deep inside you.

⤷ Comfort - Miguel has been having nightmares as of late and seeks a level of comfort only you can provide.

⤷ Breakfast in Bed - Miguel wakes you up to breakfast in bed.

⤷ Stress Relief - Peter B. Parker should know better than to swing by unannounced.

⤷ Sharing is Caring (I) - (II) - A mission has both Miguel and you sharing a room… what could possibly go wrong?

⤷ [COMPLETE] (0) Sweet Girl , (1) Frustration , (2) Suit Up , (3) Obsession , (4) Consequences , (5) Discovery , (6) Double-edged Sword , (7) Confession , (8) Devotion - Miguel’s desire for you has been taking a toll on him, and he really has no other option…

⤷ Second Intentions - You’ve been tense lately, and Miguel offers a massage. Quite thoughtful of him… except you know exactly why.

⤷ Tracking - You find out Miguel has been tracking something that concerns you… and him.

⤷ Gentle - Miguel shows you how gentle he can be during your pregnancy and how worthy you are of it.

⤷ Backfire - The math is simple: you make Miguel jealous + push him past his breaking point = hot rough sex. Too bad Miguel doesn’t do simple.

⤷ Side Effect - Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.

⤷ Stubborn - As far as you’re concerned, you just want to stay in bed all day, admiring Miguel’s glorious chest.

✫ Fluff/Comedy/Comfort/Hurt/Angst/Misc:

⤷ Memories - You are ready to tell Miguel he is going to be a father… but he isn’t.

⤷ Revelations - Miguel asks you to keep a secret, so naturally everyone is about to find out.

⤷ Solution - Period cramps always leave you feeling miserable, so Miguel offers a solution.

⤷ Tiny Spider - Your daughter has a few questions, and you suspect Miguel might just open a portal to another dimension.

⤷ Another Chance - You go into labour and all you know is that you need Miguel more than ever.

⤷ Broken - You wonder if Miguel is broken beyond repair, because he surely believes that.

⤷ Family - Miguel is a natural when it comes to being a father.

⤷ A Series of Firsts - You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.

⤷ Appreciation - Miguel catches you staring at a very specific part of his body…

[demeterlindavis]

request for: @ladycroft5245

Public Display of Attention

summary: his consort - his beautiful, too kind for her own good - forever young lover. she was his, and his only, and he believed it was long overdue to make that statement clear among the rest of their group. after tonight, the only name spiling from her luscious lips would be his.

pairing: ascended astarion x reader!tav

rating: E

word count: 4.6k

cw: 18+. astarion POV, late act 3 setting (so potential spoilers), smut, big angst, depiction of racing thoughts due to low self-esteem/jealousy, very possessive behaviour and sex, public sex/exhibisionism/slight voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), hold the moan, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, mating press, p in v, blood/vampire bites, creampie.

a/n: songs inspo for this one were taste and who were you with last night by ari abdul, if you wanna get an idea of the vibe as i was writing this up

read on ao3

or keep reading down below~

It was in the little things that he noticed it the most. How she was always willing to give a helping hand to anyone who asked — and even those who didn’t, quite honestly. Gods, how it aggravated him in the worst ways. Her kindness was her most admirable trait, yet also her biggest weakness.

Then again, that's how he truly fell for her in the first place.

How she was simply too pure for her own good, and it was most infuriating at times; constantly giving people the benefit of the doubt, believing everyone was inherently good, desiring to befriend everyone and truly believing everyone had a good reason to act the way they did. As if she refused to see the corruption of this world and its people, of him, of all people.

Maybe that's also why she opened her heart to him in the first place. Maybe it had nothing to do with his charms, and although he believed he had successfully and very easily seduced her for his own protection, he kept thinking she would slip away from his grasp at any moment. 

The doubts kept growing as one night he spied on her as she indulged Wyll for a dance. Well, not as much spying as they did it right next to the campfire, anyone could see them. Then again, that might be what bothered him so much. 

How carefree they were to dance the night away, visible to all and with no shame whatsoever. How he avoided being publicly seen with her, reserving their time together in the privacy of his tent. How the voice in his head screamed, “You're wasting her time. She deserves happiness with someone whole, someone who can make her as happy as she is with Wyll. You could only bring her misery. You don't deserve her.”

And how hard he had tried time and time again to push those thoughts away, to convince himself that she did choose him, that he deserved her love, no matter how novel the concept was to him.

But when he witnessed Wyll leaning in closer, his lips reaching for hers, Astarion turned away, closing the flap of his tent. He couldn't bear to stare much longer, as his heart shattered at the thought that the moments he spent with her were but ephemeral. Gone in an instant, a bittersweet memory, and how foolish of him to believe he could have had a chance at love when he was but the shell of a man. His fear of losing her turned to resentment against not only himself, but also against their companion for experiencing what he could only dream of. 

Of course, he thought, how could I be such a fool to believe what we had could ever last?

But that night, before he could enter his reverie, she joined him in his bed. Without a single word, she snuggled up close to him and fell asleep in his arms, bringing cosiness to his bedroll with her hot skin warmed up by the alcohol flowing through her veins, and the soft beating of her heart calming his thoughts as he listened along.

In the morning, he listened in on her discussion with Wyll to learn she had turned him down in favour of Astarion. 

He couldn't begin to comprehend what had happened.

She had the opportunity to be with someone better, and yet she chose him, over and over again.

Many weeks later, when she spent her entire evening gallivanting at Gale’s side of the room at the Elfsong as he showed her tricks of the weave, standing close to her — too close — and she smiled, and laughed, and held his shoulder, and her eyes sparkled with amazement at the magic before her, it's as if everything she had ever done to prove her love became meaningless. 

He could practically hear what she was saying: Gale, you’re so talented, please, can you show me more? Can I spend more time with you? Oh Gale, how I love when you teach me the magic of the weave, when you touch me, Gods Gale, what I wouldn’t do to feel you inside me, fuck me, oh Gale—

The mere thought of someone else laying their hands on her in any way imaginable sent him down a spiral of dark thoughts. Since defeating Cazador, he only became more selfish, perhaps he would be the most selfish man she would ever know, but he was the only man she should want. After two hundred years of torment, of pure shit, he deserved better. Everything and anything he wanted, he would have.

In the past he couldn’t find it within him to keep her to himself, but now, now that he was all powerful, now that the world was his to claim, it wasn't something he would allow anymore. 

No.

This time, he wouldn’t sit by idly, waiting to rot and let those thoughts get the best of him.

He approached them, trying to appear nonchalant despite the seething fury boiling within him.

“My treasure,” he purred in her ear, interrupting Gale through yet another rambling of his. “May I have a word?” She turned her head around, caught off by his sudden presence behind her, with one hand on her waist, and the other on her shoulder, gripping firmly. When he noticed the uncertainty on her face, he answered her unspoken question. “I'm afraid this is of the utmost importance; it really cannot wait.”

He gave a quick glance at Gale to let the wizard know there was no stopping him from stealing away the woman between them. 

“Go on,” Gale said, when their leader remained silent. “We can pick up where we left off once our mighty Vampire Ascendant is done indulging in your presence, whether that be tonight or tomorrow.”

She gave him a sad smile and he nodded with a smile of his own, as she tried to apologise for cutting their time short, and it only added onto Astarion's irritation, who pulled her out of their shared room, and away from prying ears. 

“What’s wrong?” The worry in those soft, brand new crimson eyes of hers. 

Well, truth be told, he didn’t have an answer. He didn’t plan this far ahead, he just wanted to get her away from Gale as fast as possible. 

“Oh, how bothersome,” he clicked his tongue. “It seems to have slipped my mind completely.”

“Didn’t you say it was of the utmost importance?” she sighed, pouting.

“I truly apologise for cutting your time short with the wizard, but now that I have you here with me, I might as well keep you close. You do need to feed, don’t you, little love?” 

Her eyes wandered; this form was still new to her, she didn’t know yet when or even how to tell if she needed to feed. It was no bother though, he would teach her everything there was to know about it. He would be there for her, be the master he couldn’t have when he was in the same situation centuries ago.

She turned her head aside towards their room, probably thinking about Gale and how she left him hanging. Ugh, why did she have to care so much about the others?

“Ugh,” he sighed desperately. “The wizard will still be there when we're done, dear.”

When she turned back to him, she noticed his sneer in Gale’s direction and that’s all she needed to connect the dots. 

“Astarion…” She took a hold of his hand and laid it upon her chest, right over her undead, unbeating heart. His doing. “I promise you there is nothing between Gale and I, or anyone else in our group for that matter. Even Halsin made advances, and — although I am extremely flattered — I’m really not interested. You’re the only one for me.”

Her softness caught him off guard and his face softened temporarily before taking back its haughty state, rolling his eyes. 

“Obviously, I know that.” He lifted her chin with his free hand, the other laying over her waist, pulling her closer as he whispered over her, “You’ll be mine forever, after all.”

“Until the end of times,” she whispered back.

There it was, that smile she kept for him only, with her features softened, and yet, he knew that if she still had a pulse, it would be beating out of her chest.

He loved the way her eyes almost closed when he drew her in for a kiss, lips colliding in a passionate embrace. She let herself get lost in it, giving him control over this dance he knew all too well, but a dance he now took pleasure in, with her only.

His most beloved spawn.

His precious consort.

It was the first time in two hundred years he had something for himself, someone to claim as his, and he wanted to show her just how loved she would be with him, to prove to her she didn’t need to seek anyone else’s attention when she had him all to herself. She needed but to ask; anything she desired, he would give her.

But tonight, he would make that decision for her, and he would keep her all to himself.

Pulling back only slightly, leaving her wanting more, he murmured against her lips, “Now, can I interest you in joining me in bed?” 

“But I’m not tired,” she sulked. “And Gale was going to show me more tricks with the weave, and—”

“How about I show you what tricks I can do, hm?” He cut her off softly, bringing her attention back to him. He swore, if she mentions the damned wizard once more—

“What kind of tricks are we talking about exactly? Because I wouldn’t call pickpocketing the local bard a trick.”

He smiled at the memory, “I’m afraid you’ll have to trust me on this one, pet. But I can assure you, you will be exhausted by the time I’m done with you.”

It was so easy to reel her in with just but a few words. By now, he knew the telltale signs that he had caught her interest; a few quick looks as she was processing the possibilities of what this would entail, those same eyes shining as they fluttered shut, and the biting of her lip followed by her playful smile. 

“Fine.”

She simply couldn’t resist his offers. 

She lifted her chin with eagerness to meet his salacious look, and he got the impression she did so to appear taller, mightier than she really was. 

“As long as it doesn’t involve getting people hurt.”

Again, with the others’ interest at heart before her own. He wanted to roll his eyes at her request, but the only thought crossing his mind as he looked at the soft frown she was forcing along with her crossed arms was how utterly adorable she was, and how delicious the sight of her would be with that frown upside down as she panted underneath him, begging for mercy, with his name spilling from her mouth like a prayer.

The thought alone made his trousers feel much, much tighter.

Before the thoughts could overpower him, he answered her request, raising his hand. “I promise only pure, carnal pleasure for the parties involved.” 

She gave him a side look with her eyes squinted, and he just took her hand, raising it to his lips before kissing it with a smirk as a response. 

“Just follow me, little love, and I’ll show you exactly what I mean.”

And she did just as she was told, as she followed him back inside the room shared amongst the rest of their friends, to his bed. Most of their companions were already fast asleep, with some others quietly preparing for bed. Gale was among the latter, and to Astarion's demise, his bed was right next to his, with barely a partition separating their respective side of the room.

The faint light cast from Gale’s side depicted his shadow, and when Astarion noticed him reading in bed, he thought that maybe he could take advantage of their bed placement, if only for tonight.

He drew his own partition, hiding them from the rest of the room, before walking back to his consort.

“Now,” he purrs. “For this little trick of mine, I will need your full cooperation. Can I trust you to follow my every command?”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes fixated on his.

“Whatever I do, you must remain silent. Understood?”

Another nod. 

His good, little, obedient pet. How he loved that about her.

He walked behind her, leaning his head in the crook of her neck, whispering. “Good girl.”

Slowly, he reached for the lace in her back, untying her dress until it came loose. Her chest rose with anticipation, as he drew his fingers up at her front, lightly brushing his fingers against the light fabric covering her breasts. Hooking his fingers into the crown of her dress, he pulled her top down, releasing her breasts to the crispy air of their room. A warm, deep breath he released against her neck sent shivers down her spine, and she just closed her eyes as she let her head fall back onto his shoulder with a sigh, letting him work her like putty in his hands.

Gods, how he adored that she didn't bother wearing a bra out of combat. It made everything so much easier when it came to indulging his deepest desires: a light brush against the fabric here and there, just to see her nipples harden under his touch, a daring squeeze, sometimes, to feel the fullness of her chest, but his favourite was this dress of hers, and how easy it was to pull down to indulge in a quick nibble.

Maybe that’s also why he was reluctant to her being so damned touchy with the rest of their group, how close she allowed them to be to her precious body. His possession.

It’s okay, he thought to himself, no one will question my ownership after tonight.

Her dress carelessly fell to the floor when he pushed the sleeves down to reveal her everlastingly beautiful body. He pressed his body against her back, rubbing his growing bulge against her ass as he massaged her breast with one hand, while the other roamed south of her navel. A light pinch of her nipple while he reached her clit had her whimper once, potentially loud enough to already give the wizard next door an idea of what they were up to.

“Nuh uh, what did I say? Not a sound, darling.”

“S– sorry…” Her breathing was already heavy with lust.

She could try to keep quiet, but he would do anything in his power to make her crumble beneath his fingers, those same fingers that didn’t waste a second more dipping between her folds, earning another soft moan out of her.

“Already so wet for me, pet.”

He left a trail of wet kisses from her shoulder to her neck, where he licked all the way up to her ear, breathing hot air against her cool skin, while his hands kept working her up.

“Astarion…”

“My sweet, sweet thing, what did we say about keeping quiet, hm?” He dipped two fingers inside of her, and her hand flew to her mouth as she yelped in surprise. “Unless that’s what you really want? To let everyone know who owns you, body and soul? Or maybe you just want poor Gale to know what he’s missing out on?”

She only moaned louder, her palm serving no purpose as her noises escaped it, while he increased the pace of his fingers in and out of her. The lewd wet noises coming from her pussy were loud enough to be heard by their neighbour, he thought, as the shadow before them had put its book aside.

“My, my, what a depraved little thing you are, wanting to put on a show for our friends.” He pushed another finger into her and a soft cry escaped her. “You drive a hard bargain; it would be fun, wouldn’t it?” She kept whimpering and Astarion chuckled softly behind her. "We shouldn't keep them waiting in that case, should we?”

In a swift move, Astarion removed her panties, the only piece of clothing she had left, before picking her up to lay her on his bed and climbing on top of her.

Before them, Gale’s shade was seemingly depicting a far more pleasing activity than reading, with one hand visibly stroking himself and his arm resting under his head. 

“Well, well, would you look at that?” He tilted her head aside to make her watch his shadow through the partition. “Seems like our friendly wizard is having some fun of his own, wouldn’t you agree?”

Before she could answer, he left a trail of kisses down her belly, all the way to her delicious cunt that laid before him like a meal, ready for him to devour. He finally tasted her nectar with one languid stroke of his tongue from her entrance up to her clit. Her head fell back into the soft pillow, lifting the side of it to bite down as she held back a moan.

“Astarion…” She breathed heavily, “Gale is right there—”

“And? Look at him.” She turned her head aside, panting as she observed the silhouette dancing. “Clearly the man is enjoying himself, I'm sure it would torture him if we stopped now, and I did promise only pleasure for all the parties involved.” He licked his lips with a salacious smile. “I am nothing but a man of my word.” With one last look up at his lover, he dived back in, his tongue entering her at long last.

She tasted like the sun after centuries of darkness; like a springtime breeze that carried the promise of rebirth; like life, the one thing he had taken from her. Just as his heart beat anew, hers had stopped for eternity, and he liked to think that his heart would beat for them both from the moment he had made her his. Forever grateful for giving him everything.

Among the feverish moans of his beloved consort beneath him, a deep moan from across the room had Astarion lifting his head and turning it aside, where he noticed Gale’s shade now covering his own mouth in a poor attempt to hush his whimpers. Pathetic, he thought. Reduced to pleasuring himself from the pleasure of others. 

But he didn’t mind it tonight. No, everything was going according to his plan, and he would seize every chance to state his claim over her, that she belonged to him and him alone, and that the only reason Gale had the opportunity to even hear her is because Astarion allowed it. No one else.

By now, his face was covered in her juices, and he would gladly drown between her legs if it meant making her scream from the top of her lungs and letting Gale know how good she’s getting fucked, and how this poor excuse of a wizard would never even come close to experience this. Astarion’s cock only got harder to the idea of showing off his beloved — his greatest possession — with mere sounds; making her scream with the knowledge that someone was listening in, and someone got off to the sounds he was getting out of her.

His attention moved away from her entrance and over the side of her thighs, where he kissed her before biting down on her soft flesh.

Her hands flew to her mouth once again, trying to suppress her cries as they grew louder, but Astarion would have none of that. 

He paused his feast to reach for her wrists, pulling them down near her waist and pinning them to her sides, “Don’t be shy now, my treasure. Let him hear what he can only dream of having.”

With her blood now covering his lips, he moved back to her most sensitive area, where his tongue teased relentlessly and when he felt her squirming under her, he knew she was already close. He just had to push her in the right direction.

Pressing his tongue flat against her clit and swiping up and down, rubbing his taste buds over and over again where he knew she loved the most was all she needed. When she came, he plunged back inside her to drink in everything she had to offer, as her body convulsed from the waves of her orgasm. She couldn’t hold back the screams as Astarion continued to stimulate her, almost crying as the sensation became too much, but he knew her body now, better than anyone else, and he knew how to play with it to make the pleasure last.

He pulled back to admire the sight before him, as she laid eyes fluttering, dazed from the pleasure, trying to catch back her breath — one that she didn’t even need anymore. 

Little did she know he was far from done, as he did a quick glance towards Gale’s shadow to notice how his back now arched, lost to the feeling of his own hand as he sped up his pace. Surely the wizard could indulge them a bit longer.

He removed all his clothes, leaving no barriers between his lover and himself anymore, finally freeing the throbbing erection that begged for release in his trousers before he towered over her.

He hooked her legs with his, locking her in place as he positioned himself against her entrance, pausing with the head of his cock poking just against her pussy.

Their eyes met, half-lidded and full of lust. “You’ve been so good to me, little love. I believe you deserve a little treat, don’t you think?”

Her eyes flickered open, and she nodded with her mouth kept open as she breathed hard.

“Come on, you know the magic words,” he taunted.

“P– Please.”

“Please who?” He purred in her ear.

“Astarion! Please, Astarion, please.”

Always so good, so compliant for him. He would give her everything he didn’t have, he would make her his Lady, she could have the world if she only asked him, but for now, a few sips of his ascended blood to quench her thirst would suffice.

He offered his arm to her, and she held it carefully, breathing hard over the visible veins popping out before biting down to taste his delectable crimson.

As his consort, any amount of blood from him wouldn’t break their bond — she would forever be his until he decided otherwise — but he needed to be at the top of his game for this. She drank just enough to get her strength back before he pulled away, leaving her wanting for more.

The sight of her pupils dilated, her tiny fangs glistening from his blood dripping down her chin, it awakened something primal in him. He needed to fuck her, to taste her, now.

With a growl, he thrust his hips into her in one swing, and at the same time, his fangs dived right into her neck, where they had been a few nights ago when she joined him in eternity. He sipped, and gulped, tasting her blood as it was now mixed with his. How exquisite she was, how he would never tire of this, of her, of their lifeblood forever linked.

His ownership over her was clear now, and he felt oh so foolish for believing that Gale of all people stood a chance with her. No — she was completely and utterly his, mind, body, and soul.

His hips swung with languid strokes as he picked his rhythm, feeling her walls tighten around his length with each thrust. Her hands flew to his back, scratching near his scars — but not for long. Before she could do any real damage, he grabbed her wrists, pinning her down in place to focus on the real task at hand: making everyone know who she belonged to.

His fangs left her neck to find her lips, their blood mixing as their tongues entered each other's mouth, and a particularly well placed swing of his hips had her breaking the kiss, as she cried out his name.

“Gods, my name sounds divine coming from your lips, my love. Say it again.”

And she obeyed.

“Louder,” he growled, pouding deeper into her.

Again.

“You’re mine.”

And again.

“Mine. Mine.”

“Yours,” she panted. “Only yours, forever yours.”

“That's right, forever and ever after. If our lives end in this timeline, I will find you in the next one and make you mine all. over. again.” He plunged roughly into her with each of his last words, his hips slapping loudly against her with the sound of their mixed fluids. “Now, be a good girl and come around my cock, darling. Come as hard and as loud as you can, understand?”

He fastened his pace, ramming restlessly into her as his fangs dived into the other side of her neck. He bit without even drinking, biting her everywhere he hadn’t before, leaving his trace on her in ways others could never. 

The bed was a bloody mess; to anyone else she might’ve looked like a butchered corpse, but to the vampire ascendant, she was the most breathtaking sight he had ever seen.

When she came, it was with an otherworldly scream; one that could most certainly wake the dead. Her mind must’ve shattered as she convulsed beneath Astarion, completely losing control of herself. 

She was so warm now that she had drank from him, his blood running into her veins, his seed inside her womb. As her walls tightened against him and Astarion neared his own collapse, he only imagined how delightful she would look, belly swollen with his child after shooting loads after loads into her. What better way to tell the whole world he was the one to share her bed than to make her pregnant with his seed? As a spawn, this could’ve never been possible even in his wildest dreams, but as the Vampire Ascendant, it was a door that was potentially open to him once again. He just had to dare to believe. 

With those thoughts racing, Astarion came roaring, stilling inside of her as he unloaded himself, a part of him hoping he could spy over a small bump over her belly by the time they were done with their quest against the absolute. He came, and came, until she was so full of him that his come was spilling out of her onto the bed sheets, and yet, he remained inside of her. If he could, he would keep her chained to his bed and spend his days breeding her relentlessly until she was carrying his offspring. The thought alone made his cock twitch in anticipation.

With silence reigning once again over their shared room, Astarion looked back to Gale’s shadow to see a hint of his chest heaving. Whether he came or not, he couldn’t care less, this little demonstration was over.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself, wizard,” He shouted. “This was the first and last time you would hear my lover's cries of pleasure. Better have made that count.”

Not a word from the partition, but the shadow clumsily hid under its bed sheets before blowing away the light of the candle that betrayed him.

A devilish smirk now appeared on Astarions lips, as he turned his attention back to his consort, bloody, exhausted, and utterly ruined. Beautiful. 

Mine.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce @jwera @annnagennnie @angeldarkness95 @marlowethebard @hellethil @frankie-mercury @ariajc79 @ladycroft5245 @lets-just-daydream

requests are OPEN!

[demeterlindavis]

Writing Masterlist

Asoiaf/Game of Thrones

Winter Thorns and Iron Crowns

Pt 1

Pt 2

Pt 3

Pt 4

Pt 5

Pt 6

Pt 7

Pt 8

Pt 9

Pt 10

Pt 11

Pt 12

Pt 13

Pt 14

Pt 15

Pt 16

An Injustice

Baldur’s Gate 3

One Small Freckle (Tav/Gale)

Was That Gale’s Grandad? (Tav/Gale)

Pure Gale Fluff (Tav/Gale)

By Firelight (Tav/Gale)

Link to ao3

[demeterlindavis]

「 CHARACTER PSD 020 」

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[demeterlindavis]

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my l o v e r

[template]

[demeterlindavis]

By Firelight

Pairing: Gale/Tav (pre relationship denial)

Summary: Gale can’t sleep, and he’s not… happy about Tav being up, but he’s not not happy about it. (I.e. I was trying to practice my showing not telling and I actually quite liked it)

Gale turned over for the upteenth time before huffing out a frustrated breath. Damn his godsforsaken back to the hells. No matter the position he attempted to lie in, something hurt. His bedroll was hardly a bulwark against the cold, hard, frankly unfathomably rocky ground.

He knew in reality it was the orb. It was always the orb. The artifact that Tav had given him had helped. Slightly. Not enough.

His ears were still ringing faintly, and if he lay still too long it felt as though he spun through the space behind his eyes, which reminded him far too much of nights as an apprentice after the Yawning Portal. The muscle spasms hadn’t quite started yet, but they would. He was all too aware they would. His cure was no cure anymore, and it worried him. Greatly.

To add insult to injury, he was perfectly aware he could probably conjure himself a comfortable featherbed.

He was also perfectly aware that such an act would expose him to enthusiastic and earnest ridicule from the rest of their merry little band.

He huffed once more, and decided he would give up for the night and try and read for a while. He grabbed the first book he could find in the darkness of his tent and crawled out through the flap.

It was a dark night tonight. The moon was only a small sliver amongst the stars, and occasional clouds obscured even that faint light.

The fire was crackling merrily, and Tav sat with her back to the stone in the middle of their camp, staring at the dancing flames. There was the small line of a frown between her brows, and Scratch lay with his head pillowed on her lap, her fingers absently scratching behind one upright ear.

He cleared his throat so he wouldn’t startle her, and her grey eyes flicked to him, then back at the fire.

“I was under the impression you’d already taken your watch earlier this evening,” he said.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she replied shortly. “Thought I’d let Wyll get some more rest instead of both of us being awake.”

“Very prudent of you.”

He groaned as he sat down next to her, leaning back against the rock. It was cool, which was soothing against the aching in his back.

She glanced sideways at him, then back at the flames. From here, he could only see one corner of her mouth, a faint scar trailing along her jaw. He found himself wondering how she’d gotten it. Scratch reached out his nose to sniff at Gale’s hand, then, when he had determined there was no immediate threat, returned to being pampered.

He was glad, selfishly, that she had told Wyll to go back to sleep. He… he enjoyed her company. Was glad of it tonight. It seemed to him, no matter how bleak their circumstances appeared to be, when she grinned her crooked grin, that everything would end up perfectly fine.

“What book?” She asked after a while. Gale started slightly, realizing he’d been sitting there with the book unopened for too long.

He cleared his throat.

“A treatise on the crafting of magic shields and the various attributes of each different type,” he said. “I found it in that ruined temple we explored, though I haven’t yet found the time to study it. Of course, there are quite a few thoughts in the school of abjuration on various magic shields and their uses, and then you have the regional differences, I mean- if you’ve ever read a text originating from Amn and the wizards there you’ll find they approach the entire concept differently from even the beginning of spellcasting when compared to here or even Calimshan. Though the Calishite school again has other ideas on the concept but the point I was trying to make is how region and even regional ways of thinking can influence- “

He stopped when he realised she was looking at him with a small smile on her face.

“What?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, jerking her head toward the fire. “I- I suppose I always thought a shield was a shield.”

He laughed.

“Believe me," he said, grinning, “Many an apprentice thought the same thing before our first abjuration lesson at Blackstaff.”

She looked over at him, frowning, then shook her head.

“You’ve never had any instruction?” He asked.

“Would it make a difference?” She asked sharply.

He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“A simple question. In fact, I think it’s very impressive you’ve managed so much with no education, especially given the volatile nature of your magic. There was one sorcerer in my class at Blackstaff, but he was of a draconic line, and to my understanding their magic is much less erratic than some other origins’.”

She was still frowning at him.

“Sometimes,” she said slowly, “I can’t tell whether you’re giving me a compliment or not.”

He winced.

“I assure you,” he said, somewhat apologetically, “It was intended as one.”

He tried for a sheepish smile.

“I’m afraid I’m out of practice.”

One of her eyebrows lifted.

“At compliments?”

“Partly.”

He realised they were moving into dangerous territory, and if she asked any further questions he would not have answers for her. He- he didn’t want to tell her about the orb, or Mystra. Asking for artefacts had already somewhat broken her trust in him.

It was… nice. To have a friend. Besides Tara, of course. Though Tav was much less of a nursemaid than Tara was. Between the two of them he’d never be short on scathing remarks, however. Or stubbornness. For the time being, he would pretend as though he was not a shell of his former self, merely until he had found a different way of sating his arcane hunger. Then he would cease being a burden or a liabillity to her and the others.

“I’ve had… some instruction,” she said, snapping him back tot he present. “Over the years, whenever I liked a spell someone cast, or needed to learn something for survival. Other things just happened naturally, like throwing up a shield the first time an arrow came firing at me.”

He watched as firelight flickered across her face. Her nose was turned upward, and he found himself tracing the slope of it with his eyes.

“And summoning a cow to drop from the sky?”

She tried and failed to hide a grin as she shot him a look. A deep dimple appeared in her cheek. He’d never met anyone with dimples before her. Such an endearingly human imperfection.

“That doesn’t count,” she said. “I didn’t do that on purpose.”

He shook his head.

“It took me two months to work out how to summon a tressym,” he said.

“In this world, Gale, there are people with talent,” she lay a hand on her chest, “And people without.”

She looked at him pointedly, and he burst into laughter.

Again, she watched him with that small smile, and he found himself returning it.

“If it makes you feel any better, my father was livid.”

He shrugged.

“My mother was not much better, but she forgave me eventually, I suppose. And let me keep the tressym.”

She snorted softly.

“Good for you.” Her gaze returned to the flames, and he realised he might have touched on a sensitive subject.

“You still owe me the rest of that story, you know,” he nudged her arm with his elbow, regretted it immediately when she tensed.

“You still owe me that drink to go with it,” she said. He did not miss that she moved away from him slightly.

“I could, ah, read to you,” he found himself saying, if only diffuse the tension he had just created. “If you wish. Though the book may be out of date by several decades, if not centuries, based on the penmanship alone.”

She grimaced, looking over at the book he held as though she was looking at a particularly unpleasant bug.

“A treatise? On magic shields?” She asked.

“Forgive me,” he said, feigning understanding, “I could also explain some of the more foreign concepts, as your lack of education would be a hindrance.”

She rolled her eyes at him, and only the faintest shadow of a dimple showed in her cheek.

“I normally prefer different books.”

“Different?”

“More interesting?”

“More interesting than an ancient academic treatise on shields?” He asked in mock outrage.

She rolled her eyes at him.

“I like adventure stories,” she said finally. “You know, where the valiant prince rescues the maiden in distress, or vanquishes a dragon, or two young lovers have to stand up to their families.”

He grinned.

“You didn’t strike me as the type.”

“No?”

“No. You seem far too cynical to be caught up in any adventures that are not your own.”

“Well,” she said, shrugging, “Looks can be decieving.”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she looked at him, just for a second, and a dimple showed again as she gave him another crooked grin. So different from the cynical adventurer he had met but a week ago.

“I suppose they can be,” he said softly, and found that he was grinning back at her again.

She looked back at the fire, and Gale cleared his throat slightly, feeling suddenly as though he shouldn’t be looking at her at all.

“You can read to me,” she said. “If you’d like. Believe it or not, I like learning. About magic especially.”

She shrugged.

“If anything it will make the time go more quickly.”

So Gale did.

And later, just before dawn, when her head drooped onto his shoulder he told himself he didn’t think much of it, and that she was simply tired.

He let her sleep, however, without complaint, savouring the first friendly touch he’d felt since she’d pulled him from that rock, and realised that he had forgotten to worry about the orb since the moment he’d set eyes on her.

[demeterlindavis]

Jealous

Seeing his lady attract so much attention got Gale going in more ways than one. NSFW. Based on this post.

On the outside, Gale Dekarios was charming. Smiling. Happy. Polite. On the inside, however, he was seething. He and Ramona had decided to head downstairs to get some light refreshment when he noticed several people leering at her and now one man was speaking with her at the bar.

He’s close.

Dangerously close.

Don’t you dare touch her.

She likes it when I touch her. Only me.

I am her lover. I am her future husband…hopefully. I am her god…well, in bed. Don’t worry, Selune---you’re very much her favorite deity!

Gale stared at young tiefling flirting with her. He was tall, muscular, and had incredibly menacing horns. He’s got a handsome face as well---square jaw, a perfectly proportional nose, and striking eyes. And what a head of hair!

Everything I’m not.

No. No. She wants me. She chose me. Even when Astarion was throwing himself at her left and right, she still chose me.

He decided he had had enough and made his way to Ramona.

My beautiful girl. Perfect in every way. So damn oblivious. A trap could bite her and then detonate, and she’d still be looking for it. Gale casually walked up to her and the young man, hearing the last part of their conversation.

“—the bluebonnets are nice this time of year. Maybe we could go and see them if you want?” he asked, smiling warmly.

Ramona, however, was nodding politely, and her expression completely neutral. She lit up when she saw Gale approach, turning her head to greet him with a kiss. A chaste one. I’m not some lout wanting to show everyone who leered at her to whom she belongs. No, I will show her that in private. “Oh, sorry---my partner’s arrived. Hope you have a good rest of your evening, saer.”

The look on the young man’s face was pure disappointment. He bowed. “You as well, my lady.”

When he was out of earshot, Ramona sighed and placed her hand over her heart. “Oh thank fuck you arrived, love. I was desperately trying to think of ways for me to stop talking to him while still waiting here for our food.” She beamed at him, and Gale felt her tail wrap around his hips. Good gods, the things she does to me.

“Dearest, I very well could not have left you here to suffer inane conversation. What kind of gentleman would I be if I did?” He draped his arm around her broad shoulders, his fingers daring to go just the slightest, no one will see bit under her top to play with a bra strap.

Her cheeks flushed a deep red. “Well, you could’ve…I don’t know…let me suffer?” She glanced up at him and giggled as his index finger traced a circle with the strap in the middle. “No, you’re far too good of a man for that. A very naughty, good man.”

That’s it. I need to get her upstairs. Now. He turned to the bartender and flashed a grin. “My dear man, could the food we ordered be brought to the second room in the suites upstairs?” Gale smiled to himself as he caught her raising an eyebrow, placing several good pieces on the counter. Not to worry---the countess can always send more gold.

“Aye, sure. No problem.”

With a nod, he took her hand and led her towards the stairs. As they walked up, she laughed breathlessly. “Gale love, what on earth has gotten into you?”

“I’ll explain in one moment, my beauty.” They entered the suite common room and then made a beeline for their room, closing and locking the door behind him. Gale could feel the sweat dripping from his brow as he touched his earring, the glamour disappearing.

“Love—”

His lips crashed against hers in an instant, and his arms wrapped around her soft, thick waist. When he broke the kiss, he began to paw at her top. “Do you know how many people were staring at you? Watching you? Leering at you?” he growled. “All of them looking at your every curve, your pretty eyes, your heaving cleavage…and that young so-and-so, thinking he could charm you? Ha!” Once she was down to her smalls, he practically ripped his robes off. “What fools these mortals be---thinking they could compete with me for your affections?” You chose me. You want me. Out of all the people in the world, all of our companions…you chose me. And most days I still cannot believe it. “You’ve shown me time and time again one fundamental truth, my love. Do you know what it is?” He reached behind her and unclasped her bra with ease, freeing her large and extremely soft breasts from their confines.

Her bright blue eyes never left him as she watched him help her with her clothes and then remove his. “N-no?” she whispered; her eyes wide.

Gale cupped a breast and leaned against one of her short black horns. “That I am yours, and you, in turn, are all mine.” This pair of underwear is already tight enough and falling apart, so I suppose… His other hand reached for an existing tear in his underwear and tore them off, finally liberating my cock. Gods take me, she does things to me. “My love, my sweetest lady, my dearest one, I need you. I need you right now.” Backing her up towards the foot of the bed, he kissed her again. The kiss was sloppy and passionate, not his usual controlled, chivalrous ones he shared with her in public.

As she hit the bed, she fell backwards and let out an amused cry. “Gods Gale, were there really that many people looking at me?!” She panted in disbelief and removed her panties, tossing them on the floor. I’ll put them in the dirty clothes pile later. Everything should be organized, my dear! She moved up the length of the bed, her tail swishing all the while. “I didn’t think anyone was—”

“By Elminster’s beard, of course there were!” He sighed as he crawled to her. Stopping to line himself with her glistening cunt (fucking hells, she is so wet), Gale put his weight on his hairy forearms, nearly pressing onto her. “My love, you are alluring to anyone with eyes! And I suppose, everyone without eyes when they hear you speak! So many eyes on you—ah!” He exhaled sharply as he entered her, and she moaned wantonly. Sing for me, my angel. I want to hear it all…hear how you’re mine… “But all I could think was how you. Are. Mine.” Punctuating each word with a thrust, his rhythm became faster every second. Mine. Yours. All mine. All yours. Forever. Always.

The claws on one of her hands threaded through his silky hair as the other lightly dragged along his back. “Gale…please…”

“Too much?” He panted and hung his head to glance at her face. “If it is, I—”

She shook her head, her expression as light and bright as could be. “More, love. More…please…”

Whatever the lady desires, so it shall be done! Thrusting harder, he tugged at her plump lower lip and moaned. “You are…so beautiful…one day…you’ll see…will do anything…to have you see…what I see…”

“And you?” she asked as she reached where they were joined. Good girl. Such a good girl. “Will you see yourself as I see you, my handsome wizard?” Ramona moaned again, her cheeks now bright red. “Gale…so close, love…”

He quickly pressed a kiss to her lips. “So am I, my sweet…ah, tell me, darling…tell me I’m yours…”

“You’re mine!” she cried, her climax hitting her hard. “You’re all mine…my Gale…”

Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he nearly screamed as he released several torrents of seed into her. He rolled off her, panting heavily. “Thank you for indulging me, sweetness. You truly are the most wonderful woman in all the realms.”

Minding her horns (she’s always so careful not to nick me with her horns and claws), she curled into his soft side, head resting on his plush hairy chest and her tail swishing happily. “And you are the most wonderful man.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Ramona quickly rose from bed and grabbed her black silk robe. As soon as we “moved into” the Elfsong Tavern, she grabbed that very sexy robe and returned saying she “needed” it. Well, it turns out I need it too because godsdamn, she looks incredible wearing it. “Hi, thank you so much! Here you go.” She took the tray of food and handed the waiter a handful of gold before she closed the door. She didn’t tie it well enough because there it goes! Dinner and a show---who’s better than me? His mouth salivated at the sight of her jiggling belly and swaying hips more so than the charcuterie plate he ordered.

A long night ahead, I think. Perhaps I should give into my less than gentlemanly tendencies more often…