#(it smells bad which usually means that it's bad for me) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

niningtori · 2 months ago

Text

an iron man | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: beomgyu has only ever known how to live function as a rental sexbot. he fucks whoever and whatever comes his way with a forced smile plastered on his face. that is, until you, a self-proclaimed trainwreck, come along.

genre: android!au, sexbot!au, angst, romance, fluff (more than i ever thought i could ever write i fear...), skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)

warnings: very brief and vague mentions of beomgyu being forced to engage in sexual acts he does not want with previous clients, skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)

smut warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, praise, dacryphilia, sub!gyu

word count: 14.7k (trust i will not be writing this much again if this flops BWNWJSJEJDK)

notes: terrified to post this one because this is probably my favorite thing i've ever written and if it gets a bad reaction i might die :,) also very unsure if this is the best time to post it since it's during kinktober so i'm not sure if the demand is there but i love this work so so much i pray you all like it. if you don't read anything else from me, i hope that you read this bc i rlly care ab it :,) please don't be mean i beg

beomgyu doesn’t know how long he’s been living like this. living is an odd term, too, and it’s not just because “life” is ill-defined for an android, but because to call what he experiences a life feels like a bastardization of the term. his power is turned on at some point, usually late at night, he fucks or gets fucked by somebody he probably doesn’t know, then he does the same shit all over again. so yes, he may be “alive”, but he wouldn't dare to call what he experiences living. living is too precious of a term to be used so cheaply on a sex android who’s made available for rent for the highest bidder of the night.

he’s seen how people live through his scattered vignettes of human life. he only gets them when he’s powered on, but he soaks them up with pleasure because they’re the only thing he’s ever known. some people do it wildly, living unattached to everyone and everything. their lives are not completely dissimilar to his, in a way, except they have a choice in the matter. they have time to find themselves, what their likes and dislikes are, and they get to connect with people in a way he will never have the power to. others, though, live the kind of life he really wants. they live by loving and being loved, knowing and being known. he wonders what it’d be like to know somebody outside of whatever secret deviant sexual pleasures they have. he wonders what it’s like to be known, too, but he guesses you would need to have something for someone to care enough to know about in the first place. he has no such thing.

it’s a night like any other when he’s powered on by a total stranger. he briefly takes in his surroundings and notices that it’s a really nice place, but you wouldn’t be the first rich person to rent him — not by a longshot. next, he takes you in. now, there’s no reason for you to dress up, really. you have no need to tempt him, as he will be able to feign attraction no matter what you look like, but he still finds it odd that you seem to have forgone any effort to appeal to him, if only because most people’s fantasies require them to look and feel sexy; but you don’t look sexy at all. you look like you’ve just gotten home from a long day at work, and honestly? you kind of smell like it, too.

“do you think you could do the dishes for me? i’m exhausted,” you ask with a perfectly-timed yawn. what… ?

he short-circuits for a moment as he tries to think of an appropriate response. he’s never had anyone try to get him to do chores for them, but maybe this is some sort of weird roleplay? maybe you want him to act as a house husband for you before doing the deed, which isn’t necessarily a problem since he’s well-versed in acting, but there’s just one issue.

“i don’t know how,” he tells you honestly.

“you don’t know how to do dishes?” you ask curiously,

“it’s not in my programming,” he replies. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s embarrassed because of the way he hesitates and looks away from you when he says it. he can’t possibly feel that, though, so it must just be your imagination.

“oh… that’s alright. okay, do you know how to clean a room? mine’s kind of dirty,” you try.

“n-no,” he says, and he wishes the earth would just swallow him whole. he’s never failed at living up to expectations, and never so badly, at that. just what kind of fetish is this?

“that’s okay,” you sigh, and he may not fully understand it, but he can sense your disappointment. “well, what can you do?” and the question is not asked maliciously, but with what seems to be genuine wonder. ah. he knows how to answer this one. slowly, he walks up to you and loosens your hair. you look up at him in shock, but he just cups your face, swiping his thumb across your lower lip.

“i can do whatever you want me to, baby,” he whispers alluringly. “just tell me how you like it.” you’re so stunned at his switch in demeanor that you forget how to speak for a moment, but you quickly recollect yourself and pry his hands off of you.

“i don’t want you to do anything,” you insist. “i’m just tired. if you can’t help me clean, that’s alright. you can watch something if you’re bored. i think that’s it. well, goodnight.” beomgyu is malfunctioning at the moment. he thinks the gears in his head might be sparking while he tries to understand this new development. you don’t give him time to process it, though. you just slam your bedroom door shut behind you. he thinks he hears you lock it, too.

genuinely at a loss at the thought that he has nothing and no one to do, he sits himself on your couch. he tries not to make himself too at home at first, just barely making a dent on it and scooting to the very edge of the cushion as to not appear to be too relaxed. what if this is some sort of test? what if you’re actually going to come out soon so you two can fuck? until then, what should he do next? thoughts like this plague him until he accepts the fact that you are actually sleeping. your obnoxiously loud snoring is a dead giveaway, and he finally, finally feels brave enough to fiddle with your remote control.

he scrolls for something to watch. movies and shows have been on as background noise during sex before, so he’s somewhat familiar with them, but he’s never gotten the opportunity to pick for himself or actually pay attention to what's happening on screen. he settles on a romantic movie about a robot who joins human society. the robot falls in love with a human girl, but in the end, the robot has to leave the girl because the town won’t accept him, even after using him. she marries a human man and has children, and eventually grandchildren, too. she still loves the robot even though he’s gone, which he thinks is supposed to make him feel sorry for her, but all he can feel is pity for the robot, who spends the rest of his life alone.

it’s enough to make him cry, which he shouldn’t be able to do in a non-sexual setting, but he does it, anyway. it’s just so unfair to him. the girl is able to live a normal life while the robot is doomed to be alone forever. why? because he was born different? it’s not his fault that he was invented, but he spends the rest of his time on earth paying for the crime of existing in a world not built for him. the more beomgyu thinks about it, the more wronged he feels. he’s outright sobbing by the time you plop down on the couch beside him. he jumps up and straightens his posture while trying in vain to regain his composure.

“yeah, this movie makes me cry, too,” you quietly remark. he’s silent, not because he didn’t hear what you said, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to act after being caught red handed.

“can i ask you something?” you ask in lieu of his lack of a response.

“yes,” he feebly answers.

“why are you crying?” you question with a tilt of your head, but something in him tells him that you already know.

“because the movie made me sad,” he admits after a pause.

“are androids supposed to feel things like that?”

“... no,” he replies after a pause.

“then why can you?”

“i… i don't know. just please don’t say anything to my owners,” he pleads. he knows that if the company that owns him were to find out about this, he’d be scrapped in a heartbeat. or worse, they’d analyze him like a labrat to try to find the anomaly within him. his “life” as a sexbot will be over, and he’d really rather be a box of scraps than live as a case study in a lab somewhere.

“it’s okay,” you tell him with a reassuring smile as you watch him trying not to spiral. “i won’t tell them. it’ll be our secret.” beomgyu has never had a secret to share with anyone before, so he feels an overwhelming amount of excitement at the idea that he will finally have one. his chest feels warm at the thought.

“thank you,” he says with a grateful smile.

“no problem,” you reply with a yawn. “i’m tired, so i’m heading back to bed. i just wanted to get some water. goodnight, for real this time.”

“goodnight,” he murmurs softly. you return his words with a sleepy smile and go back into your room. he finds that he’s smiling even when you leave.

he spends the night consuming as much media as he conceivably can before he has to leave. usually, he'd be powered off after he’s done being used, so he greedily savors every moment he can. who knows if he'll ever get this chance again. when you wake up, you're surprised to see that he's exactly where you left him, still watching the screen intently.

“good morning,” you say while stretching your arms.

“good morning,” he replies.

“are you ready to be returned?” you ask.

“... yes,” he lies.

“okay. i think somebody will be here to pick you up in an hour or so. you hungry?”

“i don't really eat,” he bashfully answers. for some reason, he's embarrassed at the fact that you're treating him like a human while he's unable to fully act like one.

“oh. i guess that makes sense,” you nod.

things are quiet until he’s picked up, but it’s not an awkward silence. you sit next to him on the couch as you wolf down some breakfast and let him watch whatever he pleases. when he eventually hears knocking at your door, he feels an incomprehensible sense of dread.

“i think that's them,” you remark, breaking the silence.

“y-yeah,” he replies.

“well, it was nice to meet you,” you say, reaching out your hand for him. he’s unsure what to do with it. not missing a beat, you gently grab his hand and shake it. he's stunned at the physical contact, and he's still reeling when you let the man from the rental company in. you have a brief conversation with him before he walks towards beomgyu.

“goodbye,” you tell the android with a smile and a little wave.

“... good—” and the man switches him off.

the next time beomgyu is powered on, he’s in your house again. relief floods him when he realizes it. you don’t seem as exhausted as the last time he saw you. when that was, he has no idea, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was just last night because of the fact that he’s so popular he’s rented almost every day.

“hey,” you greet him with a smile. he’s still feeling relieved before he realizes that tonight might be the night where you ask him to have sex with you. maybe you were just tired last night and had no desire to fuck, but he can tell that you’re feeling more energetic tonight.

“i didn’t catch your name,” you add.

“... beomgyu. i’m part of the choi line, but i’m a custom model, so they gave me a name,” he tentatively replies.

“nice,” you nod, and you briefly introduce yourself before asking if he wants to watch a movie.

“watch… a movie?” is this some sort of euphemism for fucking? it wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard of something like this. as mentioned before, some people like movies as background noise.

“yeah, you can pick,” you say, casually plopping down on the couch and patting the cushion next to you. he hesitantly takes your cue, and he’s mentally preparing himself for what comes next before you take a blanket and cocoon yourself in it so tightly, it’d be impossible for him to touch you.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, and he jolts a bit when he realizes that he’s been staring in disbelief. “oh, are you cold? do you want a blanket, too?”

“‘m fine,” he replies.

“are you sure? the clothes they make you wear look a little thin,” you observe with your nose wrinkled, and he feels impossibly small under your surveying eye. “here, i’ll get you some sweats. i think soobin left some the last time he was here.”

“who’s soobin?” he asks a little too quickly. so quickly, in fact, he doesn’t even have time to process why he even asked.

“my friend. stay here, i’ll grab them for you.”

when you return, you have a long pair of sweatpants in hand and a big t-shirt.

“you can change in the bathroom. it’s down the hallway and to the left, okay?” he nods in response.

he strips his clothes off as best as he can, and it feels like he’s shedding a second skin. when he’s finished undressing, he pulls on the clothes you gave him and stares in the mirror. it’s in his programming to always be mindful of how he looks, but he feels especially self-conscious now that he’s wearing a normal outfit. he fixes up his hair and clears his throat before exiting your (messy) bathroom and making his way back into your living room. he finds you fiddling with your phone before you look up at him.

“took you long enough,” you tease, and he blushes, which stuns you. just how human is this guy?

“s-sorry, i —”

“hey, i’m just kidding. you’re fine. you look pretty good in those clothes — soobin would be jealous,” you chuckle. his ears perk up at the mention of soobin again. is he your boyfriend? he must be. why else would he have clothes at your house? is that why you don't want to sleep with beomgyu? because you have someone already? if that's the case, why rent him at all? but he is not brave enough to ask these questions, so he settles for a soft “thank you” and returns to his spot on the couch.

you toss him the remote and he catches it with ease before unsurely flipping through your streaming services. he finds something that piques his interest and turns to you with an uncertain look before you nod encouragingly. he selects it and lets it play. he doesn’t mean to, but he finds himself sinking further and further into the cushions as it progresses.

it’s a sweet movie — a romantic comedy about an amnesic woman whose memory is wiped clean every morning, but a man falls in love with her, anyway. she never remembers him, so he has to make her fall in love with him in a new way every day. he finds himself smiling throughout it, but a particularly funny scene has him actually laughing for the first time. it’s a squeaky sort of thing, and he has never laughed before, so he’s somewhat surprised as it leaves his throat. he looks to you in trepidation, but you just smile warmly and respond with a soft chuckle of your own. he finds that he looks to you every time a new development occurs, and you always answer encouragingly.

the end of the film surprises him. it’s bittersweet in that she never does get her memory back, but the man makes a video recounting their entire love story for her to watch every time she wakes up. it ends with them living happily together in spite of everything, and it’s enough to make him sob. he turns to you and sees that you’re teary-eyed as well, but you seem to be enjoying his reaction so much that there’s still a grin on your face. after the film ends, you can tell that he has something on his mind.

“what’s wrong? didn’t you like it?” you gently ask.

“i did. i just don’t understand,” he replies timidly.

“don’t understand what?”

“why he would do all of that for her, i guess,” he says.

“because he loves her. when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you always find a way,” you tell him, and the sentiment seems to strike a chord within him.

“even if they’re that different?”

“of course.”

beomgyu spends the following nights with this same routine. he’s switched on, sees you standing in front of him with a smile, gets comfortable, and watches as much media as he possibly can while you two chatter away about every scene. he learns much more from it than he ever did from experience with his previous renters, and he finds himself becoming more and more emotional by the day. you never try to question him or press him to explain any of his feelings, and it just makes him feel even more comfortable with you.

one day, he even feels comfortable enough to ask you a question. the question.

“can i ask you something?”

“of course! what is it?” you reply in earnest. beomgyu has never directly inquired about you.

“why do you rent me? i mean, i know we watch stuff together now, but why rent me in the first place?” and even when he feels exponentially more at ease with you than he ever has in any other context, he’s still nervous when he asks it.

“oh, my friend did it as a joke, i guess,” you shrug. “he thought i needed to get laid or something, but i’m not into stuff like that, so i just thought i’d ask you to help me clean. obviously, that’s what i actually need,” you giggle. what he feels at your words can only be described as disappointment. “stuff like that”? so you’re not into sleeping with sexbots? is it because you find them disgusting? is it because you find him disgusting? he’s not sure what he expected, but this wasn’t it.

“oh. so why don’t you buy a cleaning bot?” he asks softly, and while you are usually pretty perceptive of his emotions, you don’t register the fact that he’s at a loss right now.

“i dunno. my parents were always against that sort of thing. they thought it was wrong, i guess, so i didn’t grow up with them like everyone else did. i didn’t really have an opinion on them until i met you,” you tell him while grinning and lightly nudging him with your elbow. he tries his best to smile because, in theory, your words are really sweet. you see him as more than just another android, so why does he feel like that’s not enough?

the fragile connection you two have made seems even more fragile now. at least, it does to him. you only met each other because of a joke your friend just so happened to make, not because of fate or the divine intervention that he always sees in the movies. maybe in another world, your friend rented a different sexbot. maybe you’d even treat them the same way you treat him. the thought alone makes something ugly burn in his chest.

still, you are oblivious to the internal war raging within beomgyu.

“hey, i’ve got an idea,” you tell him, and he perks up a bit. “have you ever listened to music?”

“not really,” he replies solemnly. people have played it in the background of their sexual escapades, but he hasn’t really gotten the chance to listen the same way humans do. you finally register his crestfallen appearance, but you chalk it up to him feeling like he’s missing out.

“why don’t we listen to some? i can play a bunch of different genres so you can find what you like,” you suggest, and he agrees to it. truthfully, he doesn’t fully understand how music can be better than movies and shows, but he is curious to find out what makes it so special.

and special, it is. he doesn’t like every song you play, he realizes, but that’s only natural given how different they are from each other. he finds himself being drawn to the more emotional and moody ones, but he can’t help but enjoy the way you quietly sing and nod along to the more upbeat tunes.

as you continue to sit together, you begin to fiddle with your hair. you’re scoffing and loosening it for the umpteenth time before you’re about to give up, but beomgyu stops you.

“let me do it,” he says.

“do you know how?”

“i think i can. i’ve been watching you,” he says simply.

“... okay.”

you turn your back to him to give him access to your hair and he scoots closer to you. closer than you’ve ever been. his touch on your head is careful as he gently gathers your hair and begins to braid it. you’re not sure how much time passes because he’s actually quite slow, but it’s relaxing all the same. you find yourself softly humming to the tune of the song playing. the lyrics are a little dark, but you follow along in earnest, and beomgyu thinks he finally understands why people like music so much. for moments like this. he tries to soak up every detail he can, from the way the light hits your frame to the melody you hum, and he wishes this moment could last forever.

but you only have so much hair, so the moment does have to end, eventually. he ties up your hair and you pull out your phone camera to admire his handiwork. admittedly, it’s a lot better than anything you could’ve done. it seems that he’s a fast learner.

“this looks perfect! thanks, beoms,” you say warmly. he’s stunned for a second at the nickname.

“beoms?”

“yeah, like beomgyu. beoms,” you say with a casual shrug, and something in his chest blossoms. “i give all of my friends nicknames.” and something in his chest explodes at the title of “friend”.

“you do?” he asks excitedly.

“yeah. like, i call soobin ‘soobinie’ or ‘soobie’, sometimes,” you giggle, and the bloom of hope in his chest dies with it.

“are you two close?” he asks, even though he knows the answer will probably hurt him.

“very. he’s my best friend,” you answer fondly. oh. you’re beomgyu’s best friend — you’re beomgyu’s only friend, and tentatively at that. the idea that the deep connection he feels with you is even deeper with someone else, at least in your eyes, makes him feel sick. do you let soobin play with your hair? do you hum along to songs you’ve shown him while he does it? do you smile at him after he’s finished and compliment him on his skills? probably, probably, probably. the ugly feeling that was previously completely foreign to him now takes its usual place in his chest, and it makes his stomach hurt so much that if he could vomit, his metaphorical dinner would be all over the floor.

“oh,” is all he can say.

days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, but every time beomgyu awakens, he finds you smiling up at him. this can’t be good for your bank account — he’s quite expensive to rent, after all — but he’s far too afraid to actually bring it up. what if you realize just how much money you’re sinking into him and want to stop renting him? what will he do if you don’t want him anymore? he feels an incomparable sense of dread at the thought.

he prepares to sit on the couch and watch something, listen to music, or even play a video game with you. you two have gotten into them recently, and he’s discovered that he very much enjoys playing with you, even when you’re yelling at him and demanding that he stop letting you win. he can’t help but grin when he thinks about it. you start playing a song, and you do, indeed, invite him to sit on the couch, but you don’t sit down next to him and start babbling away about your day like you usually would.

“do you think you could do me a favor?” you ask.

“what, do you want me to wash your dishes?” he jokes, and you share a laugh before you say your next words, but all laughter and joy is profusely sucked out of him when you say them.

“no, smartass, but can you braid my hair for me? i’m going over to soobin’s tonight, and i want it out of my way.”

“soobin’s?”

“yeah, it’s been a while since i’ve stayed the night, and he said we’re way past due for it,” you tell him, and the world as beomgyu knows it comes crashing down around him.

“you’re staying the night with him?”

“mhm. he’s right, it’s been too long; but don’t worry, i bought a pass so you can play video games online. there’s even a headset so you can talk to people, if you want. maybe you’ll even make some friends,” you say while playfully waggling your eyebrows. beomgyu’s silence is pensive, to say the very least, and you worry that he’s apprehensive of making a friend that isn't you.

“seriously, you might like it. it’ll be good for you to meet more people, honestly. i’m sure it’s driving you crazy to only have me to talk to,” you jokingly add, but to beomgyu, it’s the worst joke he’s ever heard. no, it does not drive him crazy to only talk to you every day. in fact, even though he’s not conscious during the time you spend away from each other, he thinks, deep down, that he still somehow misses you when you’re apart. and no, he does not think he needs to have anyone but you. you are more than enough for him, so how could you ever think he needs more? again, he is taunted by that same strange and implacable feeling he’s been having ever since he met you, yet he can’t quite put his finger on it, even when he nods and tells you that he’ll try making new friends.

but as he brushes out your hair and you sing along to the words:

"i’m glad i didn’t die before i met you

but now i don’t care

i could go anywhere with you

and i’d probably be happy"

he finally understands what that feeling is. that warm, all-consuming feeling. that feeling of comfort, safety, and unconditional understanding. that feeling of infinite curiosity about the other person. that feeling of wanting to known and be known in a way so profound it physically aches.

yes, as he gathers your hair and ever-so-gently twists it in his hands in preparation for you staying the night with a man you clearly prefer over him, the feeling becomes clear as day. love. what he feels for you is love — an emotion he should never be able to even fathom, yet he does.

and it makes him loathe himself to a degree he never thought he was capable of.

he’s so put off by this sentiment, he almost can’t finish the braid because his hands are shaking so much, but somehow, he finishes, anyway.

“are you done?” you ask as you fiddle with your hair and look back at him.

“mhm,” he replies.

“yay! thank you!” you say giddily.

“you’re welcome,” he mumbles. you’re not stupid, so you notice that something is off about him, but you just assume it’s because he’s nervous about being left alone to make new friends. you feel guilty in a certain sense, but it’ll be good for him to branch out and meet new people, so you tuck the feeling away as best as you can before packing your nightly essentials and getting ready to leave.

“i’ll be back tomorrow morning,” you tell him, and he only nods with his lips pursed, which makes your heart feel sour.

“try not to miss me too much,” you tease, but it doesn’t seem to cheer him up in the slightest.

“have fun,” he replies weakly, and your previously sour heart now kind of aches, but you have to do this for him. you can't always be beside him for everything, right? besides, it's only for the night.

you open the door to leave, but before you go, you turn back to him and he senses hesitation in you. before he can question it, you’re opening your arms, and his eyes widen when he realizes you’re inviting him in for a hug. you almost regret doing it as soon as you open them for fear of making him uncomfortable, but he embraces you before you have time to process such feelings. on beomgyu’s end, he has always been wary of touch for obvious reasons, but he gravitates towards your open arms like he was meant to be in them.

he rests his chin on the top of your head for a moment and you spend an unknown length of time just standing with your arms wrapped around each other.

“i’ll miss you,” you admit, and before you can smack yourself for being so dramatic and sentimental over what will ultimately only be one night, you can swear you feel his grip tightening even more around you.

eventually, you break away and look up at him with a smile. you ruffle his hair and promise to see him later, and he answers you with a nod. then, you're leaving and locking the door behind you.

immediately, beomgyu feels a sense of loss he’s never felt before. after all, to experience loss, you must have something worth losing in the first place, and he has never had anything like that. at least, not until you. so he stands at the door for who knows how long, just like a puppy waiting for his owner to get home.

soobin can sense you’re out of it before you even finish crossing through his doorway, and it puts a halt to your typically overdramatic greeting.

“what’s the matter? are you feeling okay?” he questions concernedly as he pulls you in for a hug. you nod before you break apart from him and walk through the threshold.

“y-yeah. it’s just, i don’t know, i guess i just feel bad about leaving beomgyu all by himself,” you tell him as you plop down on his couch.

“the android you’ve been renting?” he asks incredulously. “i’ve been meaning to ask you about that, actually. why’re you renting it so much? i barely even see you anymore. is the sex that good?”

“you know i don’t use androids like that,” you snap in annoyance, partially because he’s calling beomgyu “it”.

“i know, which is why i’m so confused. why rent it in the first place if you’re not getting anything out of it?”

you struggle to answer his question. you promised beomgyu you’d keep his secret, but you trust soobin, and you know he won’t judge him, or worse, report him. besides, it’ll be good to have an unbiased third party weigh in on the situation. with this in mind, you tell him about beomgyu, skipping over some of the more personal details. he’s in disbelief at first and actually thinks you’re just fucking with him, but as you tell him more and more about the time you’ve spent together, his smile falls and his face turns serious.

“so that’s why i feel so guilty about leaving him alone,” you finish with a deep sigh. he’s silent for a few moments before collecting his thoughts.

“god, i can’t believe this is actually happening,” he whispers.

“i know. it’s insane, but it’s true. he’s just so… human. you should've seen the way he looked at me when i told him i was leaving. i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone look so sad before.”

“well, you’re right about him needing to make friends,” he says with a nod, and it validates all of your misgivings about leaving him alone. “but don’t you think you should, i don’t know, think about what all of this means?”

“what do you mean?” you ask, and in that moment, he knows you have no idea about the way beomgyu probably feels about you. he’s not 100% confident in his deductions, but the way you describe how beomgyu acts around you pretty much tells him everything he needs to know.

“i mean, you basically have a completely sentient creature who relies on you for everything. if he’s as human as you say he is, then he can probably feel everything that we do. right now, i’d guess that he feels like you’re all he knows.” and the sneaking sense of guilt that was previously threatening to creep up on you is now completely overwhelming. you’re all he knows. and you left him all alone to fend for himself and make his own friends. yes, he needs to learn how to make connections, but how could you expect him to know how to do that? it took weeks for him to finally seem comfortable around you, so how could he possibly know how to make them on his own? moreover, even though it's nothing to you, you're his entire world. he must feel like you abandoned him.

“i’ve gotta go,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks.

“i–i’ve gotta go home,” you repeat as you hurriedly stand up and hug him goodbye.

“wait! i think you should —”

“love you, bye!” you shout as you book it out of the doorway.

when you return home, you open the door to see beomgyu listlessly staring at the television screen. when he hears you, he turns to look at you with watery eyes. he looks so lost in this moment, and all of your suspicions are confirmed.

“beoms, i am so sorry,” you tell him as you rush over and throw your arms around him.

“for what?” he asks with a gulp as he stays in your embrace, shakily wrapping his arms around your waist.

“i’m sorry for leaving you all by yourself. i thought it was just for one night, so it’d be alright, but you don’t have anyone but me right now; and i realize that it’s unfair for me to expect you to meet other people all on your own when you’ve never had to do it before. if you want friends, i’ll help you, okay? i’ll be there with you as you do it,” you tell him, and you feel his body trembling.

“i-i’m sorry. i know it’s not a big deal, but when you’re not with me, i feel so scared. i… i don’t know how to do anything by myself. i’m s-sorry i need you so much,” he whispers, and your heart breaks.

“don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “how about this: i’ll join you online and we can talk to people together. then, when you’re ready, you can start hanging out with my friends in person, too, okay? we can keep going until you don’t need me anymore.” beomgyu outwardly agrees, which seems to put you at ease, but there’s just one issue: he’ll always need you.

gaming online is actually really fun, but making friends is hard for someone like beomgyu. he’s quiet and a little awkward at first, but after a few nights and with your help, he finally warms up to the people he games with. he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s even able to shit talk with them a little.

“fuckkk, that’s so unfair!” his new friend, kai, wails over the headset.

“it’s not unfair, you just suck,” beomgyu chuckles, and kai whines again. you laugh at their interaction before kai continues.

“how are you so fucking good at this game? you’ve only been playing for a few nights, and you’re already better than me!” he pouts.

“i’m just gifted,” beomgyu boasts.

“very true,” you add, and he beams, but kai’s next words throw him off-kilter.

“whatever. stop asking your girlfriend to argue with me — you two make me sick,” he jokes with his signature maniacal laugh, but the two of you are too stunned to laugh along. you look at each other in sheer embarrassment, and you can see beomgyu’s ears turning bright pink beneath his blond hair. you’re not sure why you feel so mortified, but you do. this is beomgyu, for god’s sake. there’s no earthly way you could ever see him in anything other than a purely platonic way, so why does your heart feel uneasy at the notion? while you’re still too stunned to speak, beomgyu tries to pipe up and respond.

“sh-she’s — we’re not, uh —”

“damn it!” kai yells as his character dies yet again, and any momentum beomgyu previously had to clear up the misunderstanding is killed stone dead in its tracks.

he turns to look at you unsurely, but the awkward moment seems to have passed for you as you laugh at kai’s character’s death. if only he could be as unfazed.

after kai goes offline, you two decide to quit gaming for the night. you turn to beomgyu nervously, and he immediately knows that you’re going to say something serious. he hopes beyond hope that it’s not about what kai said.

“can i ask you something?” and his heart sinks. oh god, you probably caught onto his feelings. he’s not sure he has the confidence to tell the truth, but how could he lie to you?

“y-yes,” he replies, voice a bit unsteady.

“okay, you can say no if you want, but soobin invited us to a get together he’s having pretty soon. it’s not anything too crazy, so there’ll only be a few of us. i think it’ll be a good start for you. maybe you’ll even make some new friends, you know?” he’s silent at your words just out of sheer shock. he’d definitely missed the mark when guessing your intentions.

“it’s okay to say no,” you hurriedly add, “but my friends are really nice, and i’d be with you the entire time. even if you don’t talk to anybody, you can talk to me.”

“okay,” he agrees before he can even really think about it. he guesses he’s just relieved that you still don’t know about his feelings, but part of him aches even still.

“really?” you ask incredulously. “oh my god! i have to tell soobin — he’ll be so excited!” you babble, and his lips curl upwards at how happy you are. he wishes he could always make you happy like this, and it seems that he’d agree to absolutely anything if you were the one asking.

work has been especially taxing today, which is nothing new, but you have this insatiable suspicion that something feels… off as you finish up for the day. as you’re about to head out for the night, you wonder what beomgyu will want to do once you get home. maybe he’ll want to play games with kai, or maybe he’ll want to watch a movie with you. maybe he’ll let you cuddle up to him for warmth, which he’s been very willing to do, lately. the unspoken rule that you two will never touch has become blurry for some reason, but you’re pretty touchy with all of your friends, so it only feels like a matter of course to you.

you’re thinking about all of the potential ways tonight could play out when it hits you: you didn’t reserve beomgyu. you spit out a curse and hurriedly take out your phone to book him, but it’s too late. he’s already assigned to someone for the night. fuck.

when you get home, you’re anxious beyond belief. you haven’t spent a night without beomgyu in months, but more importantly, he hasn’t spent a night without you. you try not to think about how scared he will be when he’s powered on in a stranger’s home. you hope he’s able to just switch back to his initial programming, but somehow, you just know it won’t be that easy. you feel sick with worry when you think about how someone so human will have to involuntarily turn his feelings off and pretend to enjoy something he’s being forced to do — with no compensation, no less. he must think you abandoned him. he must think you don’t care about him. how could you forget to reserve him when he needs you so much? fuck how busy you were with work, his wellbeing should have been your first priority.

so you sit and watch the hours tick by. you try to relax. you try to tell yourself it’s only for one night, and he’s been doing it for years, but something just feels wrong, wrong, wrong. you’re about to try to force yourself to go to sleep so the night ends more quickly when you hear a rapid knocking on your door. it’s strange for someone to call on you so late, indeed, but when you look through your peephole, you see none other than the very boy you’ve been worrying about.

“beomgyu?” you say incredulously when you swing open the door. immediately, he embraces you, and you feel hot tears streaming down your neck as he nuzzles his face into it. you hold him as best as you can as you rub circles into his back and try to shush his cries.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” you tell him, and he whines. you try to break away to get a good look at him, but he just pulls you in even closer, as if you’re his only lifeline in this world, and in a way, you are.

after his breathing slows and his sobs die out, he reluctantly parts from you, so you hold his hand and lead him to your couch. his eyes are swollen and bloodshot while his nose is a bright pink, but he never once takes his eyes off of you for fear of letting you out of his sight. in his mind, you can’t leave as long as he can see you.

“are you alright?” you tentatively ask, hand still holding his and soothingly caressing it in an attempt to calm him down. he goes to nod before stopping himself and shaking his head in the negative. your eyes soften even more at the action.

“do you want to talk about what happened?” you try, and he nods before clearing his throat.

“i, um, i woke up and i was at this woman’s house. she… she wanted me to get undressed, but i didn’t want to, so she started doing it for me.” you wince at his words, but he’s not finished yet.

“she kept touching me, and it was so disgusting i just — i just couldn't stand it, so i ran away and came here. i don’t mean to make your life harder, and i won’t ask for you to stay the night with me anymore, but if you could just let me stay here, i promise i’ll learn how to clean or do anything you want. please, just don’t make me —”

“beomgyu, stop it,” you say softly, but firmly. “you are not making my life harder. you can stay here as much as you want and do whatever you want while you’re here. i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for this to happen. i was just so busy with work, and by the time i realized it, somebody had already booked you. i promise you that it’ll never happen again, okay? so you don't have to be afraid. i’m not leaving you, and i won’t let anyone hurt you, either.”

you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone look so relieved before. it looks as though you just saved his life, and to beomgyu, you essentially did. he holds your hand even tighter, as if you’re the only thing keeping him from falling off the face of this planet.

“wait here, i’ll get you some clothes,” you say gently, but as you go to leave, he holds you even tighter. your eyebrow quirks in a silent question at his actions, and he looks sheepish for a moment before saying his next words.

“c-can we just stay like this for a bit? just for a little while? i’m still scared,” he mumbles, and your heart melts.

“of course. come here,” you beckon, and he falls into your arms and rests his head on your shoulder, breathing your scent in as he tries to imprint this moment into his hardware. you stay like that for a while before you finally convince him to change out of his uncomfortable clothes. he reluctantly lets you go, and his eyes follow you everywhere you walk.

that night, you stay up later than usual to spend more time with him. he stays glued to your side and ensures that he’s always touching you in some way, which is endearing in a way you can’t seem to put into words. when you’re about to head to bed for the night, you swear you hear him whimper, but he lets you go, anyway. as you lay your head down and get comfortable under the covers, you hear a timid knocking on your door. you call him in, and his gaze shyly flickers between you and the floor.

“c-can i stay with you tonight? i won’t bother you, i swear. it’s just — i just still feel weird. y-you can say no! i just thought that —”

“come here,” you softly interrupt, and he doesn’t hesitate to listen. he closes the door behind him and shuffles towards you, stopping uncertainly at the edge of the bed in a silent plea for permission to enter it. you feel a weird, warm feeling in your chest when he does it. you scoot over and pat the open space next to you before he gathers enough courage to slide in. you cover him with your blanket, and he stiffly accepts it. you giggle at his awkwardness and cuddle up to him, placing your arms around his waist before thinking better of it. how could you just invade his personal space when he’s clearly traumatized? you go to remove your arms and scoot away before he firmly locks you in place.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, settling himself into your embrace and mindlessly toying with the ends of your hair.

“are you sure?” you ask.

“i’m sure.”

it isn't long before beomgyu hears your breathing slow down, and eventually he hears you begin to snore. he smiles at the sound. he can't really sleep, but he's perfectly content with watching you rest. he continues to play with your hair, and you nuzzle into his touch every so often. he doesn’t want to repeat the events leading up to tonight, but he would do it all over again — any number of times — with a smile on his face if it meant he got to be with you like this again.

the next morning, beomgyu waits for the usual delivery guy from the company to pick him up, but it’s currently way past the usual pickup time. he’s most certainly not complaining, but you don’t seem even remotely fazed by the matter. however, while you’re casually flipping through your streaming catalog literal hours after he’d already be gone, he can’t stop himself from asking:

“um, d-do you know when i’m being picked up?” you pause, and he worries that he may have said the wrong thing before you turn to him.

“do you want to be picked up?” you ask solemnly.

“n-no! of course not. it’s just, you know, i’d usually be gone by now, so i —”

“do you want to stay here? with me, i mean,” you interrupt.

“i… i do,” he replies with a gulp. usually, that’d be all you get from him, but it feels like the perfect opportunity to be honest about his feelings. “i always want to stay with you, but i know i’m expensive, and i don’t want to be a bother.” he looks ashamed as he admits it, but if he had the courage to look in your eyes, he’d note the fondness that lies within them.

“i told you that you’re not a bother to me. i also told you that you could stay here for as long as you want, remember?” and he does, so he nods.

“alright. i meant it when i said it last night, and i mean it now. if you want to be here, you can stay for as long as you’d like. you don't have to worry about your owners anymore, i promise.” and he thinks he’s never seen you as serious as you are now. he wonders what you mean before it dawns on him.

“you… did you buy me?” he asks in disbelief.

“y-yeah. i’m sorry, it sounds so gross when i hear it out loud, but that doesn’t mean that i own you or anything. what i really wanted to buy was your freedom, so you can stay as long as you want, but that also means that you can leave whenever you want, too.”

“i’m so sorry,” he says in a hushed, hurried tone. “i know i'm expensive. i’m really sorry.”

“money is not an object to me,” you dismiss in faux arrogance with a wave of your hand in hopes that it’ll lighten the mood, but beomgyu can’t stop the tears from falling over his waterlines, and you’re afraid your attempt to help him only made him feel more indebted to you. all worry is promptly washed away when you feel him pull you into his arms.

“thank you,” he just barely breathes out. “i don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back, but i’ll try, i swear.”

“you don’t have to do anything for me, beoms. i should’ve done it a lot sooner, but i’m just a little slow, i guess,” you muse, and he chuckles softly into your neck.

sleeping with beomgyu should’ve only happened once, but every night when you say you’re heading to bed, he looks at you with puppy eyes and you find yourself inviting him to come along. each time, he looks so excited that if he had a tail, it would most certainly be wagging. he obediently follows you to your room and settles into the empty space next to you before holding you in his arms as you drift off. he’s even taken to humming the tunes of songs he likes when you struggle to settle down, and his baritone voice lulls you to sleep like a charm every time. he spends his time by just looking at you and trying to reconcile with his new reality. this is real. he gets to spend however many nights he wants next to you, as per your own words. even if you didn’t mean them, he plans to take them seriously. he is perfectly content with spending the rest of his life just sleeping with you, looking at you, being with you.

soobin’s get together is tonight, and you look different than usual. your typical look is very casual, which makes sense because you’re only ever at home when you’re with him, but you are now primped and ready to be seen, and it makes him anxious because you look even more lovable. he knows these people are your friends, so they must’ve seen you dressed up before, but that only makes him all the more uneasy; they know a side of you he is only now seeing, and it makes that same old ugly feeling he's grown so accustomed to sprout in his chest.

when you arrive at soobin’s place, the first thing you do when soobin swings open the door is jump in his arms like you didn’t just see him a week ago. he spins you around with a dimpled grin that’s so sincere, beomgyu feels emotionally decimated by it. you both giggle as you break apart, and the jealousy beomgyu feels brewing within feels unpacifiable.

“is this beomgyu?” soobin asks, grin still very much apparent.

“yes! you’re gonna love him,” you answer giddily.

“it’s nice to meet you,” soobin says warmly while stretching out his hand, which beomgyu awkwardly shakes while he tries to force his lips to curl upwards in what he prays is a believable smile.

“nice to meet you,” he mumbles.

“everyone’s already here, but you’re late as always,” soobin playfully chastises, and you pout in response.

everyone greets you when you walk in, mostly by hugging you and lightheartedly scolding you for not coming out anymore. they’re very clearly bantering with you, but each reproach feels like a knife to beomgyu’s heart. he’s the reason you haven’t seen them in so long.

clueless to it all, you introduce him as your friend to everyone, which only makes him feel worse, somehow. he is just one friend out of many, meanwhile you’re his entire world. you’re far too caught up in the joy of seeing some of your favorite people after so long to notice his dismay, however.

you lead him to soobin’s couch to have a seat with you and one of your friends, taehyun maybe, offers him a drink, to which he awkwardly declines. you quickly follow up with something to the effect of “he isn’t much of a drinker,” and beomgyu nods in affirmation. you try your best to include beomgyu in conversation, but they’re all talking about people and places he doesn't know. all he knows is you, and the world you two built together seems smaller and smaller with every new topic of conversation.

he notices that soobin seems to be eyeing him somewhat strangely, though he tries his best to play it off. he could just attribute it to surface level curiosity, but his intuition tells him it’s much deeper than that. is soobin sizing up his competition? maybe so, but there’s not much to see. beomgyu is handsome, and he knows it, but soobin knows a side of you beomgyu has only ever heard stories about. you’ve told him about your friends and the goings on between you and your coworkers, but it pales in comparison to actually meeting them. he makes an internal note to ask even more questions than he usually does the next time you’re telling him about your day. until then, he sits as close to you as humanly possible and clings onto your arm, which is so second nature to you, you don't even notice that he’s doing it.

soobin, who is usually not the inquisitive type, can’t help but question the dynamic between you and beomgyu. at first, the lingering glances and intimate gestures were innocuous enough to be written off as mere friendliness, but when you whisper something in beomgyu’s ear and he flushes a bright pink, soobin knows he can’t ignore it any longer. he especially can’t ignore it when you turn away from beomgyu and he raises a hand to the ear you just whispered into as if he’s reliving the moment. well, time to test his theory.

soobin slides into the open cushion next to you and begins excitedly chattering about how pretty you look tonight, and he even takes your braided hair into his hands and twirls it between his fingers.

“your hair looks pretty,” he muses.

“beomgyu did it, actually,” you grin, and soobin glances over to said boy, who is currently glaring daggers at him. the look in beomgyu’s eyes is so intense, he almost wants to back off, but he has to get to the bottom of this.

“did he? you know, it’s been a while since you stayed over. wanna have a sleepover tonight? you have some clothes here from last time, and we can cuddle, i know you like that,” he says as innocently as he possibly can.

before you can even reply, beomgyu is slamming his hands on the coffee table. you turn to face him in surprise, and the look on his face is the angriest you’ve ever seen him. his eyes are dark and his nostrils are flared as he heavily breathes. he’s never been angry at all in front of you, actually, so to say you’re taken aback is the understatement of the century.

“beoms? what’s wrong?” you ask concernedly, completely turning away from soobin. your voice is enough to somewhat placate him, but before he can fully calm down, soobin is saying his next words.

“i’m sure he’s fine. beomgyu, you can find your way home tonight on your own, can’t you?” beomgyu is positively seething at this. before you can question him again, he’s gripping your hand so tightly it’s like it’s the only thing keeping him from drowning, so you excuse the both of you and drag him to the bathroom for some privacy.

“are you alright?” you ask, frantically scanning his figure for some sort of sign of pain or discomfort.

“i-i’m fine, i just, uh, i don’t feel good,” he says flatly.

“what’s wrong? is it too much? do we need to go home?” he’s so flustered, he barely registers that you’re calling your house “home”, but he still notices it in spite of everything, and it’s like a balm on his aching heart.

“y-yeah, can we go home? please?” he pleads, and you hurriedly nod.

“of course, just let me say bye to everyone before we leave, okay?” and he wants to say no, but he’s as weak as ever in front of you, so he relents.

that doesn’t stop him from gripping your hand, though, as you say goodbye to everyone. you go to give soobin your usual hug, but beomgyu pulls you back to him even more tightly. you write it off as him not feeling well and just wanting to leave as soon as possible, to which you oblige, and before you know it, you two are scurrying out of soobin’s place like there’s something chasing you.

as you’re driving home, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, but it isn’t until you’re walking through your doorway that you check it.

soobie: we need to talk. call me as soon as you get home

you’re worried beyond belief at his serious tone, so you tell beomgyu that you’ve got to make a call before ducking into your bedroom. you don’t shut the door behind you, because why would you?

you quickly call soobin and the line connects after just one ring.

“what’s wrong?” you ask anxiously, and soobin just sighs, which makes you all the more anxious.

“we have to talk about beomgyu.”

“beomgyu? what about him? is something wrong?” you question.

“yeah, i mean, maybe. this might sound crazy, but i think — i know — he likes you.” you’re stunned silly for just a moment before bursting into laughter.

“likes me? what the hell are you talking about?” you dismiss, and you sense his agitation even through the phone.

“i’m serious. i had a feeling before, but tonight just confirmed it. he likes you.” you’re silent for a moment, just trying to process his words, but once your mind somewhat clears, you can’t help but deny, deny, deny.

“you’re wrong. it’s not like that at all. i’m just the first person who’s ever treated him nicely, and i —”

“you’re not listening,” he cuts in irritatedly. “he looked like he wanted to skin me alive tonight. how else do you explain that?”

“soobie,” you sigh. “you’ve got it all wrong. maybe you’re right and maybe he was feeling insecure, but that’s probably because i’m the only person he knows. he most likely just felt like you were stealing my attention away.”

“you’re always so dense about these things, you know?” he groans. “okay, look, i’m not sure how they came about, but i do know that he has feelings for you. maybe it started out as dependence, i’m not sure, but it’s definitely much more than that now.”

“that’s impossible,” you snort, actually feeling a bit impatient now. how could he possibly think that your relationship with beomgyu was anything other than platonic?

“why? because he’s a robot?” oh, that shuts you up. “just think about it. if he were a human, would you still be saying the same thing? like i said before, if he’s as human as you say he is, he can feel the same way we do, and he’s definitely capable of feeling love, too.” you are, again, stunned into silence. suddenly, as if there was a fog that covered your brain before, things that you never really considered become clear to you. the soft touches, the gentleness. sleeping in the same bed and waiting for you to get home. wanting you — needing you — around all the time. the way he plays with your hair. the way he’s so interested in everything you have to say. the clinginess, the dependence. it all makes so much more sense to you.

“i —” you begin, but you just so happen to glance up and see beomgyu right outside of your doorway… looking absolutely devastated.

“i’ve gotta go,” you tell soobin as you hang up, not even bothering to say your usual goodbye.

“beoms, did you hear us?” you ask tentatively, and he flinches a little bit before looking down at the floor and nodding.

you’re unsure of how to navigate this situation from here, but while you’re still trying to figure it out, beomgyu speaks.

“i-i’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly. “i understand if you don’t want me anymore.”

“w-what? no, i —”

“i’m just really sorry,” he says, looking as ashamed as a person ever could. “i know it’s wrong, i know it’s disgusting, but i —”

“beomgyu.”

“but i can’t help it. i wish i could, but i just can’t; and i understand if you want to return me or whatever, but if you could just —”

“beomgyu, stop it,” you interrupt firmly, no room for argument. he stares at you with defeated eyes, and you feel your heart break in two. “i am not disgusted, and i don’t want to return you.” his eyebrows furrow as if he doesn't quite understand, so you continue.

“your feelings are not disgusting to me, don’t ever say that again, okay? please? it makes me sad,” you plead, and he hesitantly nods. “i think it’s normal, actually. you don’t really know anybody else other than me, so of course you’re confused.”

“confused?” he asks incredulously, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

“confused,” you nod. “it'll change once you meet more people, i swear.” you try to smile reassuringly, but suddenly, you see tears welling up in beomgyu’s eyes.

“beoms?” you carefully try.

“i don't need to meet more people. i just need you,” he chokes out. “don't tell me i'm confused because i'm not. i-i'd rather you just say you don't want to be with me than tell me that.” your heart clenches at his words, but he continues.

“i just want to be with you, no one else,” he tells you desperately. “i can understand if you don't feel the same way, but i can't stand to hear you say i don’t love you, because i do. i really, really do.” and as if you're dissociating, your mind is bombarded by times where he's shown you this exact sentiment. again, you go back to every intimate moment you two have ever shared. it was easy to just chalk it up to his lack of experience, but when he's telling you that's not the case so earnestly, is it truly possible to still believe it’s nothing? after a while, you decide that it most certainly is not.

the question is: do you feel the same way? you try to put a name to the feelings you have when you’re with him. the trust you have, the understanding. the desire to share everything you know and like with him, no matter how mundane it may seem to others; and consequently, the endearment towards him when you see how eager he is to listen. more than that, the intimacy between you two. how you like waking up to him smiling down at you, and how when something happens, he’s the first one you want to tell, good or bad. how when you listen to new music, you feel excited at the prospect of sharing it with him.

you realize you want to know more about him, the happy things and even the sad things. why he is the way that he is, why he thinks the way he thinks. the peace you feel when he’s running his fingers through your hair and holding you close when you watch the same film for the dozenth time. you try to picture a world where somebody else rented him. a world in which somebody else got to see him as soon as they wake up or as soon as they get home from a particularly grueling day at work, and you finally understand that you wouldn’t like that at all. but why? you’ve only ever thought of him as a friend, right? so why does it matter to you?

your eyes focus on beomgyu again, and you notice how utterly defeated he looks. his heart is on full display for you — and you alone — as tears stream freely down his pretty, doll-like face. are these tears just for you? you think so. is it safe to trust that these feelings he has for you are real? you’re not sure, but you want to. still, there’s something stopping you.

“i think… i think i feel the same way,” you admit, and his previously downtrodden appearance immediately lights up with hope. “but we shouldn’t.” and the words are like lead in your mouth.

“why not?” he asks, clearly distressed. you just gave him an inch, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take a mile. he never in a million years would have thought that you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so he can’t just let them go so easily.

“i just… it’s just not something that i can —”

“is it because i’m an android?” he questions, voice teeming with self-loathing.

“n-no! i mean, we’re just so different,” you tell him, trying to skirt around the topic as best as you possibly can, but he won’t have it.

“whatever it is, i’ll change it. please? i can do anything,” he pleads.

“it’s not like that. i want to, but we can't. i-i'll get older. i won't look the same — i won't be the same,” and it’s embarrassing as hell to admit it out loud, but you mean it. beomgyu’s urgent gaze softens, and he inches closer to you before he’s standing before you. he reaches out to gently cup your face and tenderly pushes your hair behind your ears.

“and what about me?”

“what about you?” you scoff, but you don't pull away from his touch, though your eyes do dart away. “you’ll still be you, and i’ll be old and —”

“what about when my parts start creaking? what about when i don’t remember things like i’m supposed to? you’ll still love me then, right?” he asks, but he already knows, and your eyes snap back to his.

“th-that’s different. you can get repairs. i can’t —”

“then i won’t. you’ll get old and gray and i’ll get rundown and out-of-date. i don’t care what happens, as long as i’m with you.” you’re silent in the wake of his heavy words, so he quickly continues.

“you told me that when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you said you always find a way, and i want to find a way to be with you.” your heart simultaneously warms and aches at this sentiment.

you consider what it would be like to be with him. things would be difficult, yes, but not impossible. maybe you’ll come to regret it someday, but you don’t want to think about that right now. you feel like the luckiest girl in the world when you think of the fact that somebody so beautiful, inside and out, wants to be with you. you don't think you’ve done anything particularly special for him, but he still wants and accepts you for everything that you are and ever will be.

“okay,” you say shakily, and you finally recognize that his hands are still very much cupping your face, fingers lovingly rubbing against your cheeks. he smiles in pure relief at your answer, but he makes no move to break away his hold on you.

you notice how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips, and you decide you'll have mercy on him as you lean up to him and press a chaste kiss on his pouty lips before parting. he’s visibly red at the action, and you grin at how flustered he looks. on beomgyu’s end, he feels another bloom of excitement and swell of hope threatening to overcome him. when he looks at the playfulness in your eyes, he smiles even wider.

“i love you,” he whispers affectionately.

you pause before you tell him:

“i love you, too, beoms.”

that night, beomgyu is even clingier than usual. he sticks like gum to your side. when you head to sleep, he eagerly nestles in your bed and holds his arms wide open. you follow his lead and settle into his warm embrace. he sings you one of his favorite songs you’ve ever shown him. the last words you hear before you sink into sleep are:

“to die by your side

is such a heavenly way to die

to die by your side, well

the pleasure, the privilege is mine”

notes pt. 2: sfw work ends here!

you and beomgyu have been “together” for a few weeks now, so the relationship is still very new. surprisingly or not, things seem more or less the same. you guess you never realized just how intimate you two have always been until you put a label on things. the only tangible differences are that instead of just a mere hug when he greets you, he plants kisses all over your face before finding his ways to your lips. and when you’re watching movies or even just talking, he’ll steal a kiss or two. and when you head to bed, you know you can expect him to catch your lips like a man starved before you sleep. things get heated, sometimes, but they never lead to anything besides labored breaths and promises to calm himself down. you take his hesitancy as him wanting to take it slow and treasure your first time together, and you realize he still may be traumatized from the years he spent as a sexbot.

you have apologized to him for telling soobin his secret. you let him know your reasoning for telling him, and he accepted your apology quite graciously. honestly? he was never mad, and he tells you that very clearly, but you still feel somewhat guilty even when he says he understands. your guilt is only absolved when he says he’s thankful you told soobin because things may have never changed without his wise input. he says that he’s grateful to soobin for being a voice of reason in the face of your emotional density. you blushed when he told you this, and apologized for being so slow on the uptake, but he just assured you that he wouldn’t have you any other way, which made you love him even more, somehow.

you’re now about to go to soobin’s again for another get together with your friends. second time’s the charm, you cheekily told him when you brought it up, and he blushed in response. when you two walk through the doorway, everyone cheers. you greet everyone as usual, and beomgyu tries his best to keep his searing jealousy at bay, but his anxiety starts clawing at him as soobin seats himself next to you and asks you how you are.

you giggle and tell him you’re doing well, and he responds by updating you on his tumultuous work life. beomgyu immediately wonders why you haven’t told soobin about your new relationship. are you embarrassed to be seen with him? it’s not like he doesn’t understand, what with him technically being made out of wires and machinery. of course a human like you wouldn’t want to be seen with a metal man like him. you could have the entire world in your hands if you wanted, so what’s the point of playing pretend with a fake like him? maybe, if he were you, he’d be embarrassed, too. he likes to think that maybe you aren’t like that, but at the end of the day, how could you not be? he’s nothing more than a robot masquerading as the real thing.

his anxiety worsens the more in depth your conversation with soobin gets. you try to include him by briefly giving him context about the stories soobin tells, but he can’t stop himself from worrying. again, he feels like soobin is stealing you away from him, and his mood sours.

your other friends try to talk to him, too, but he’s very obviously in a bad mood as he watches you two continue to laugh together. when you finally do turn to beomgyu, you immediately notice how awful he looks.

“beoms? are you alright?” you ask gingerly, but beomgyu’s discomfort is not at all placated even at the term of endearment.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, and you’re genuinely in shock at his change of attitude. soobin looks very concerned, but he excuses himself to get a drink so you two can work it out, though he has an inkling of an idea of what’s triggering beomgyu.

“what’s wrong with you?” you ask concernedly, but he shakes his head sulkily.

“do you wanna go home?” you offer, and he immediately nods. you look torn for a second, but when you see how sad he looks, you know you can’t deny him.

you say your goodbyes to your friends and apologize for leaving early, but everyone says they understand. soobin makes you promise to host the next get together, though, to which you happily agree.

the ride home is mostly silent, but you look over to beomgyu in concern every so often. you grab his hand and squeeze it in a way you hope is comforting, but he doesn’t look any better at all.

when you enter your house, you immediately head to your bedroom, and he follows you in silence. you sit on the bed and pat the space next to you.

“beoms, what’s the matter?” you ask pleadingly as you grab his hands, and his heart, which was previously aching, is (a little) soothed by your concern.

“i-it’s nothing,” he answers, but you can tell that he’s lying because of the way he refuses to make eye contact with you.

“baby, i can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong,” you say. you’re right, and he knows you’re right, but you’re already doing him the favor of a lifetime just by deigning to be with him. how could he dare to ask for more? he’s ashamed at the thought, but you look so sincere, and he knows in his metaphorical heart that he needs to be able to communicate with you if you two are going to have any shot at a lasting relationship.

“i-i’m just j-jealous,” he sputters.

“oh, baby, why?” you ask.

“because i’m not like you,” he admits after a pause. “i already feel like i’m not good enough for you, so seeing you with someone who actually is makes me feel awful.”

“who? soobin?” and you’re absolutely petrified when he sheepishly nods.

“honey, it’s not like that at all,” you tell him. “we’re just friends, i promise.”

“but it would be so much easier to be with him. you wouldn’t have to be ashamed about telling everyone you’re with an android,” he argues.

“beomgyu, i am not ashamed of you. i just wasn’t sure if you felt comfortable with me telling everyone. if you want me to tell them, i’ll happily do it. you’re so good, how could i ever be embarrassed of you?” his eyes soften.

“do you mean it?” he asks, and you nod.

“do i not show it enough? how much i love you, i mean.” he furiously shakes his head no, but you know it’s a lie. beomgyu himself will admit that he needs more validation than most people, and it’s going to take him a while to ever get over it because of his own issues. that doesn’t mean you can’t try to help him, though, so you brush his cheek with your hands before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

“does this make you feel better?” you ask after you pull away, but he still looks somewhat depressed, so you pull him in again before pressing your lips against his. this time, you swipe your tongue on his pout, which makes him gasp. you tease your tongue against his and electricity thrums between you two when you do it. he reciprocates your enthusiasm immediately, and before long, you’re both sucking and teasing each other until you’re out of breath.

you pull away again and rest your forehead against his.

“better?” you question.

“a little,” he says. “m-maybe a little more?” you grin at his coquettishness, and you go in for another kiss. your tongues tangle, but you don’t stop there. your mouth travels, peppering kisses down his jaw to his sensitive neck. he shivers at the contact when you swipe your tongue over his unmarred skin before lightly sucking. he lets out a broken moan when you do it, and it reverberates throughout your entire body and straight to your core.

“better?” you ask again.

“m-more,” he pants.

“anything you want, baby,” you tease before your lips hungrily capture his. one of your hands snakes its way up his shirt, and he gasps when you roll his hardened nipple between your fingers. beomgyu is more sensitive than most people, as is the nature of his model, so every little touch drives him crazy.

you seem to have noticed this, so when your other hand palms his hardened length through his sweatpants and he almost screams, you have to bite back a giggle.

“d-don’t tease,” he begs, and you’d do anything for beomgyu, really, but not this time.

you palm him even more harshly and his breath catches in his throat.

“more?” you ask, and he fervently nods. you oblige, sliding your hand under his waistband and teasing the sensitive skin around his length. your fingers brush against it every so often, and he involuntarily bucks every time you do.

“c-can i touch you?” he practically implores.

“of course, my love,” you tell him as you remove your devious hands and pull your top off before unclipping your bra.

his mouth waters when he sees you, and you can see him gulp almost comically as his big hands meet your breasts. he copies your movement from earlier, rolling your sensitive buds between his very clearly experienced fingers. you let out a contented sigh at the action, but you won’t let this be all about you, so your hand sneaks it way back down his pants. this time, you grab his girthy cock and give it a harsh tug. his actions stutter, and you smirk devilishly at how fucked out he is when the fun part hasn’t even begun.

you pull at his waistband, and he eagerly tugs his pants and boxers off as soon you do it. he even goes as far as to tear his t-shirt off over his head before he pulls your half-naked body flush against his, falling onto the bed as he desperately kisses you for everything that you’re worth. eventually, he situates himself on top of you, rutting his thick, long cock onto your still clothed thigh. you didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at him before, but you’re able to look down at him now, and you realize his dick is gorgeous. just like every other part of him. it stands tall, blushing profusely at the tip and practically weeping precum. it’s a bit hooked, too, no doubt to elicit the most pleasure out of his clients. your pussy is drenched just thinking about how it’ll feel when it’s inside of you.

he almost rips your bottoms off of you and his mouth waters even more at the sight of your pussy, all slick and glistening in anticipation for what’s to come.

“so gorgeous,” he whispers as he prepares to lay himself between your legs, but you hook them around his waist before he can do so. tonight will be all about him, you’ve decided, so you tug him closer and put one of his pretty nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue on it and occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. your other hand continues to tweak the other one before you alternate between the two, causing him to let out a low, guttural groan.

eventually, he goes in for another kiss, all tongue and teeth and saliva, and you take one of your hands and harshly clench around the base of his throbbing cock.

“is this what you needed, beoms?” you tease, and he nods pathetically as you tug again, harder this time, and let your hands stroke all the way up to his reddened tip. your thumb glides over his slit, and he’s seeing stars.

“i don’t know why you’re so jealous of someone else, my love. you’re so perfect,” you praise, and his ears get even redder, somehow, in spite of the situation you’re both in.

“i — nghh — i don’t like when you’re with him,” he pants, in spite of everything you're doing to him. “only want you with me.”

“oh, baby, you have me,” you coo. “always.” and with that, you begin to feverishly jerk him off with one hand while the other returns to his nipple. his hips buck with every movement, and his eyes are screwed shut. you can tell he’s about to come before you completely take your hands off of him.

“n-no! w-why?” he asks with a crack in his voice, watery eyes shooting open at the sudden action.

“don’t you wanna come in my pussy, instead? it’s warmer and wetter than my hand,” you ask with faux innocence with a tilt of your head, and his previously aggrieved demeanor morphs back into pure lust.

“that’s what i thought,” you giggle as you grab his length and rub it against your slickness. he groans at the feeling, but you don’t immediately take him in, opting to instead roll your hips up, just barely letting his flared head catch against your entrance.

“baby, please,” he whines, and with a smirk, you finally wrap your legs around his waist and line him up with your entrance. you just barely take the tip in, easing it into your pussy, before you force him out again. he gasps raggedly at how tight you are, and he’s wound up so much, he feels like he’s on the brink of exploding. he’s about to take matters into his own hands before you guide him back inside of you, and he feels your walls struggling to accommodate him.

“s-so tight! h-how are you so tight?” he hisses, eyes reddened and face strained, but you’re far too busy with the euphoric feeling of him finally inside of you to reply. he eases in inch after throbbing inch, and it is a snug fit, indeed. he almost wonders if he’ll even fit, but though the stretch burns you, the pleasure is too great to ignore. finally, your walls slightly relax, and he’s able to completely sheath himself in you. you both moan as his tip pulsates against your cervix, and he considerately gives you time to adjust, walls contracting wildly around him, before he attempts to pull out and really begin.

“stop,” you command before he can do so, and his eyes fill with worry at your words.

“w-what’s wrong?” he stutters.

“oh, nothing,” you say between pants. “i just want to see how long you can last.”

“w-what do you —”

and you interrupt him with a kiss. he ravenously reciprocates it, and he can’t help but unconsciously thrust his hips, tapping deliciously on the deepest parts of you, but you prevent him from ever fully pulling out. you tangle one of your hands through his hair and grip it — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him groan into your mouth.

“c-can i move?” he pleads, but you shake your head no.

“why?” he whimpers, but you just smirk as you kiss him again and bite his bottom lip.

he doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, but it’s far too long for his liking. he feels his dick swell, and you still refuse to let him move, but you teasingly scrape your fingers against his balls and it’s all he can do not to come.

“p-please let me move, it hurts,” he cries, tears now flowing from his eyes. for once, sex is all about beomgyu and what feels good to him. he could cry just from the sentiment alone, but his current tears are the direct result of how you’re teasing him.

“and where does it hurt, baby? use your words, i know you can.”

“h-hurts, my c-cock hurts,” he sputters out.

“and would pounding my pussy make you feel better?” you goad, and he whines even louder at the imagery.

“y-yes,” he sobs, and you smile as you say your next words.

“such a good boy. you can move.” and that’s all it takes, really, before he’s pulling out despite your cunt’s attempts to suck him back in, and ramming himself back inside of you again and again.

the curve of his cock hits places previously untouched, and your walls spasm around him at the sensation.

“does it feel good, beoms?”

“s-so good,” he mumbles as drool pools off of his tongue and out of his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “so warm and t-tight.” you clench against your will at his filthy words, and it makes a strangled cry leave his throat.

“pussy so good, baby. your pussy is the b-best,” he babbles, and your lips meet his again before your mouth travels down, sucking a blooming hickey onto his neck. he trembles at the pain that comes with the pleasure, but somehow, he still has the presence of mind to roll his skilled fingers against your clit. just a few touches, and you already feel your orgasm approaching. he can feel every spasm of yours, and it makes his dick twitch inside of you as he wildly fucks you open.

he’s drilling into you so hard, you have to dig your fingernails into the skin of his back to keep yourself grounded. with each thrust, you feel more and more like you’re about to burst.

“gonna come!” you whine.

“do it, baby. c-come all over my cock,” he pleads.

“come inside? want it so bad,” you mewl.

“of course, my angel. a-anything for you,” he tells you as he tenderly brushes your hair out of your sweaty face, and he hammers himself into you at an inhuman pace as you feel the pressure in you crescendo into a searing hot orgasm. you clench even tighter around him while you come, gripping him so forcefully he can barely pull out, so his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated before he rams himself into you one last time and paints your inner walls with his cum.

you two stay like that for a while, just panting and basking in the feeling of closeness you feel. he presses a kiss on your forehead as he relaxes his arms and lays on top of you. you giggle at the intimacy and he finds himself sharing your laughter, your joy.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says between breaths, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing. “i love you.”

“i love you, too, beoms,” you tell him, and you do love him. unconditionally.

notes pt. 3: :,) :,) :,)))))) i'm very sorry if this was disappointing but i hope it was worth it! i would love to hear your thoughts or answer any questions you may have about this fic/universe. feedback is needed to a disgusting degree bc i need validation to survive #sorry

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winxanity-ii · 1 month ago

Text

FATHER, FORGIVE ME

ship: father charlie x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 ( oral sex/f. receiving; overstimulation; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery ) word count: 4.1k a/n: ahhh….I just want to say I'm so thrilled with all the love and support for the mini Devotion series! It means the world to me to see you guys enjoying it as much as I do. And a huge thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday! I got drunk asf, and here's the rough draft I made while tipsy, lolol. Hope you all enjoy~ 😈✨..

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You wouldn't say you were a bad person.

Selfish? Maybe. Impulsive? Absolutely. But "bad" seemed a bit of a stretch.

It's just that, when you saw something you wanted, you didn't hesitate to take it—and, honestly, you had no regrets. Not until now, at least.

Sitting here, surrounded by the smell of old hymn books and dusty incense, listening to some wrinkly old man in a white robe drone on about salvation.

The whole thing was your mother's doing. She had this recurring phase, like clockwork, where she'd get bitten by the "Bible bug."

For a few weeks every year, she was the most devoted Catholic you'd ever seen. She'd call, text, guilt-trip—anything to get her kids back on the straight and narrow, even if just for a Sunday morning.

For the last seven years, you'd managed to dodge it. Moved out at eighteen and never looked back, leaving the duty of church attendance to your three other siblings.

Usually, someone would take one for the team and tag along with Mom until her enthusiasm fizzled out again. But this time, it seemed your luck had run dry—your sister had finally roped you in, and here you were, seven-year streak shattered.

You sighed deeply, eyes half-lidded as they flicked across the stained glass windows—all those saints staring down at you in judgment.

You couldn't help but think of all the things you could be doing right now. Sleeping, for one. Your bed sounded like heaven compared to the hard pew beneath you.

Or brunch with your friends—mimosas and laughter, not these monotone chants and the faint smell of mothballs.

Hell, you could've called Kevin over and gotten dicked down instead of dealing with this—

Your thoughts screeched to a halt, slamming against an unexpected sight.

The old priest, the one whose croaky voice was practically white noise at this point, stepped away from the pulpit. In his place was someone else—someone younger, someone whose presence commanded attention.

A man, tall, dark hair neatly combed back, with a crisp black cassock that hugged his broad shoulders just right. He moved with a sense of ease, like he belonged up there.

And damn, was he handsome. Handsome enough to pull your focus completely, which was a feat in itself given the circumstances.

Your eyes tracked him as he approached the podium, his voice replacing the rasping chant of the old priest. It was smooth, warm, resonant. Nothing like the man you remembered from years ago.

He spoke about community, faith, redemption—but all you could think was how someone like him ended up in a place like this.

You found yourself leaning forward, just slightly, as if drawn in by some invisible force. Your irritation melted away, replaced by a strange curiosity.

Maybe… maybe this wouldn't be the worst way to spend a Sunday after all.

The priest stood quietly at the altar, his figure framed by the soft light filtering through the stained glass windows. A faint scar traced its way down the right side of his forehead, a mark that spoke of some unknown hardship or past misadventure.

He was youthful but with the stillness of someone who’d seen enough to understand patience and humility.

With each breath, the man seemed grounded in his presence, shoulders relaxed but broad, the fabric of his robe resting comfortably against his chest.

His appearance was almost angelic, yet the subtle scar and the weight in his eyes hinted at something more complex beneath the surface—a man of God, perhaps, but one who had walked through fire to find his faith.

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow in appreciation as you stared at the handsome man up there. You leaned over a bit to your mother, eyes never straying from his figure. "Ma, who's that? Is he new?" you whispered to your mother.

She looked up from her phone, Candy Crush flashing on her screen. You silenced the snort that wanted to come out. Looked like she might retire from church early this year, you thought to yourself, seeing her early signs of disengaging.

She glanced up at the front, giving a quick look before going back to her game. "That's Father Charlie Mayhew. He was brought in about two or three years ago, I think," she murmured absently, barely paying attention.

Father Charlie.

You watched as he spoke, his voice strong yet gentle, his eyes sweeping over the congregation with a genuine warmth. He wasn't like the old priest—this one seemed to genuinely care, as if each word held weight.

You wondered if that scar came from something dramatic, some story worth knowing. Your gaze lingered, taking in the slope of his shoulders, the way his lips moved with each word. Something about him felt... magnetic.

You found yourself sitting up straighter when the two of you made eye contact—he blinked, his words stumbling just slightly, a brief hitch in his otherwise smooth delivery. "I, uh... I apologize," he stuttered, looking off to the side, the tips of his ears turning pink.

You caught the way his eyes shifted nervously, almost as if he was trying to regain his footing. It was subtle, but you could see it—the way he tried to pull himself back together, to get through the rest of the sermon without any more disruptions.

He cleared his throat to continue, "As I was saying... uh, the importance of faith in our lives cannot be overstated. We must always strive to, um, to do what is right, even when it's difficult..." His voice trailed off slightly, but he managed to steady himself, his eyes avoiding yours as he focused on the rest of the congregation.

It made something stir in you, a mix of curiosity and amusement.

You bit down gently on your lower glossed lip, eyes trailing over his form, taking in every subtle detail. The way his hands gripped the edge of the podium, the faint flush creeping up his neck—it was all so telling.

He seemed innocent, reactive.

You smiled to yourself, letting your gaze linger as he continued, noting the way he seemed to avoid looking in your direction now, as if afraid that another glance might trip him up again.

Maybe you should pay a visit to Father Charlie—see if you could break that serene composure of his.

You could already imagine it—the way he might tense up under your touch, the way his voice might crack if you whispered something just a bit too forward.

The thought alone made your heart race, anticipation bubbling up inside you, like something in you just knew—he'd be fun to unravel.

You leaned back in your seat, a slow, satisfied smile playing on your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

The sermon ended with a quiet murmur of 'Amen' from the congregation, followed by the gentle shuffle of people rising from the pews.

You glanced around, watching as people slowly made their way to the exits, some stopping to chat while others lingered near the back of the church.

The old priest was nowhere to be seen, but Father Charlie remained, standing at the front as he spoke softly to a small group of parishioners.

Your mother, of course, made a beeline for him. You heard her voice carrying over the hushed conversations, gushing about how moving today’s sermon was.

You rolled your eyes, unable to help yourself, and slowly rose to your feet, making your way over with an almost lazy stride.

As you approached, you could see your mother perk up, her eyes lighting up as she turned to you. "Oh, there she is! Father Charlie, this is my youngest, ____." She gestured towards you, her hand lightly resting on your arm to pull you closer. "You've met my other children over the years."

You could see the change in Father Charlie almost instantly. His posture shifted, his back straightening just a little more, his eyes rounding as they landed on you. He seemed almost like an eager puppy, his gaze bright and attentive.

He quickly pulled his eyes away, turning back to your mother with a polite smile as he nodded. "Yes, I remember," he said, his voice a touch softer. Then he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours as he gave you a gentle smile. "It's nice to finally meet you. I don't think I've seen you here before... ?"

Your mother gave a sort of laughing scoff, waving him off as she caught his attention again. She chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, Father, the day she willingly comes to church without an incentive is the day the devil is welcomed back into Heaven's gates."

You kept your eyes on Father Charlie, a small smile tugging at your lips as you tilted your head slightly. "Maybe I just hadn't found a good enough reason to come before," you said, your gaze locked on his, your voice light but carrying a hint of something more.

His eyes widened just a little, and you watched as a faint blush spread across his cheeks, his lips parting slightly as he blinked, clearly caught off guard.

Before he could say anything, your mother’s name was called from behind. It was one of her church friends, and in an instant, she was off, waving a quick goodbye and leaving you standing there in front of Father Charlie.

You didn't waste a second, taking a daring step forward, your eyes fixed on him. "So..." you said, letting your gaze roam over him before meeting his eyes again. "You seem awfully young to be running a church like this. I have to say, I'm impressed."

He looked bashful, glancing down for a moment before looking back up at you. "Oh, well, thank you. I just... I do my best," he said, his voice soft, the pink on his cheeks deepening.

You smiled, tilting your head just slightly. "Do you do one-on-one sessions, like other churches do?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of mischief.

He blinked, clearly confused for a moment, before his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, you mean confessionals?" He nodded quickly, his expression shifting back to something more serious. "Yes, I do. In fact, I was planning on doing confessionals later today, after the services. Not many people take me up on it, but I think it's important to always offer the option."

"Oh, really?" you said, letting your voice drop just a bit, your head tilting to the side as you watched him. You let a small smile curve your lips, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, you wouldn't mind if I came to see you and... confessed, would you, Father?"

He stuttered, his blush deepening as he quickly nodded. "N-No, of course not. You're more than welcome to come by, anytime," he said, his voice a bit shaky.

You smirked, giving him a nod. "Perfect," you said, your voice smooth, before turning on your heel and walking away, back towards where your mother was waiting.

You could feel his gaze on you the entire time, the weight of his eyes almost burning into your back. And you loved it.

This really was going to be fun.

The church grew quieter as the service officially ended, people slowly trickling out while you lingered, waiting for your moment.

Eventually, you made your way to the confessional booth, the small wooden space feeling cramped as you settled in. The air was close, the scent of polished wood and incense hanging heavy.

You could hear Father Charlie shuffling on the other side, the sound of the door closing behind him, the rustle of fabric as he got seated.

You took a breath, letting the silence stretch for a moment before you began. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..." you said, your voice soft, but there was an edge to it that you couldn't quite hide.

There was a pause before you heard him clear his throat, his voice coming through the small screen that separated you. "The Lord is always ready to forgive. Please, tell me your sins, my child."

You sighed, leaning back slightly, your fingers brushing against the hem of your dress. "I fear I desire a man that is just out of my reach," you said, your voice carrying a hint of frustration. "It's wrong for me to want him... but I can't seem to help myself."

There was a moment of silence, and you could almost picture the look on his face—concerned, earnest, wanting to help. His voice was gentle as he responded. "Desire can be difficult to control, but it is not inherently sinful. It is what we choose to do with that desire that matters. You must pray for guidance, ask for strength... and remember that God understands our struggles."

You hummed softly, your eyes half-lidded as you listened to him, but your mind was drifting. His voice was soothing, and you found yourself imagining what it would be like if things were different.

If there wasn't a screen between you.

If you could reach out, touch him, feel that innocence melt away under your fingers.

Your hand trailed down your side, your fingers brushing over your thigh as you let out a soft sigh.

His voice cut through your thoughts, sounding a bit uncertain. "Sister ____... are you alright? Do you hear me?"

You smiled to yourself, your mind made up. You leaned closer to the screen, your voice dropping to a near whisper. "Father," you began, your tone coy, "I must confess... I find it difficult to focus when you're speaking. You have such a... soothing voice."

His breath caught audibly, and you could almost hear the way he was struggling to gather himself. "W-What do you mean, sister?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, laced with confusion.

"It makes me think... sinful thoughts."

You could hear the slight hitch in his breath, the rustle of fabric as he shifted. "S-sister," he stammered, clearly taken aback. "This... this is not appropriate."

You ignored his protest, your voice growing softer, more intimate. "You know, Father, I've always heard that confession is good for the soul. And right now... I think there's only one thing that could truly absolve me of these desires." You let the words hang in the air, knowing exactly what you were implying.

"Sister, this... this isn't..." His voice was shaky now, the uncertainty clear. "I don't think—"

"Come get me, Father," you whispered, your tone daring, challenging him. "You wouldn't leave me like this, would you?"

There was silence for a long moment, and then you heard it—the slow shuffling as he moved. The sound of his door opening, the soft creak of the confessional booth as he stepped out.

You pushed your own door open, stepping out into the dimly lit church. Father Charlie was standing there, his head downcast, his face flushed a deep red. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came out, his eyes flickering up to meet yours before darting away again.

You took a step towards him, your movements slow, deliberate—like a predator closing in on its prey. His breath hitched as you approached, his shoulders tensing. He cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sister, I... this isn't right. We shouldn't—"

You reached out, your fingers brushing against the front of his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. You let your hand slide down, your voice a low purr. "Father," you purred, your eyes locking onto his, "I want you to take me somewhere... push me to a higher calling, yeah?"

His eyes widened, the pupils dilating as he stared at you, his lips parting in shock. For a moment, he seemed frozen, and then, almost as if the word was pulled from him, he whispered, "Okay..."

His hand was trembling slightly as he reached for yours, and you let him lead you out of the main church area, his eyes flicking nervously around to make sure no one was watching. He led you down a dim hallway, stopping at a small door that opened into a cramped janitor's closet.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, you were on him.

You pushed him back against the wall, your lips crashing against his. He gasped, and you took advantage, licking into his mouth, tasting the hint of mint on his tongue as a low groan rumbled from your throat. His hands hesitated for a moment before resting on your waist, his touch light, unsure.

You deepened the kiss, feeling the way he shivered beneath your touch, your hands pushing up under his cassock, fingers skimming over the hard lines of his abdomen. His muscles tensed under your fingertips, a shudder running through him as he let out a shaky breath.

You pulled back, just enough to see his face in the low light, and he chased your lips, leaning forward as if he couldn't stand the sudden loss of contact.

You let out a dark chuckle, your hands coming up to cup his flushed cheeks, squeezing gently. His face was a deep shade of red, his eyes half-lidded, his breath coming in short, uneven pants. He looked almost dazed, completely overwhelmed, and it only made your smile widen.

Your thumb grazed over his plump bottom lip, pressing gently before dipping just inside his mouth. His eyes fluttered, his tongue flicking out hesitantly to brush against your thumb before retreating. You let out a soft sigh, a hint of a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "Oh?" you murmured, raising an eyebrow, your gaze fixed on him.

Charlie swallowed hard, his eyes locked onto yours, his breathing ragged. You stepped closer, rising onto your tiptoes, your lips just barely grazing his as you spoke. "You did so well during the sermon, Father," you whispered, your voice low and dripping with suggestion. "It makes me wonder... what could such a blessed mouth do somewhere else?"

His breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly, but he didn’t pull away. You gripped his shoulder, your fingers digging in just enough to make him shiver, and tugged him downwards. "On your knees," you said, your tone commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

Slowly, almost as if in a trance, Charlie sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something almost like reverence, and it sent a thrill through you.

You watched as he knelt before you, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that knew this was wrong, that wanted to resist—but the desire was stronger, and he couldn't bring himself to stop.

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair, your touch surprisingly gentle. "That's it," you murmured, your voice softening just a fraction. "Such a good Father... doing exactly what you're told."

You took a step back, your eyes never leaving his as you moved to the nearest wall, leaning against it comfortably.

With slow, deliberate movements, your hands reached down, unzipping your mini skirt and letting it slide down your legs, pooling around your ankles. You made a show of it, your fingers tracing along your thighs, sliding over your hips, and letting out a soft sigh as you watched him.

Charlie's eyes widened, his gaze following every movement, his lips parted, his breath catching in his throat. The flush on his face deepened, his eyes locked onto you with something like awe, mingled with pure, unfiltered desire.

You smirked, lifting one hand and curling your fingers in a come-hither motion. He hesitated only for a moment before slowly beginning to crawl towards you, his eyes never breaking away from yours.

The sight sent a thrill through you, a shiver of excitement running up your spine. He reached you, his hands carefully coming up to rest on your legs, his touch light, almost reverent.

His fingers traced along your calves, moving upwards with a hesitant slowness that made you release a shaky sigh, your back arching slightly as his touch grew bolder.

His hands were trembling as they reached your hips, his fingers brushing against the edge of your underwear. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking up to meet yours as if silently asking for permission.

You gave a small nod, and he let out a shaky breath, his fingers hooking into the waistband and slowly slipping your underwear down, his eyes fixed on you the entire time.

Once they were off, he shifted closer, his breath ghosting over your bare skin. He surprised you by gently lifting one of your legs, settling it over his shoulder as he pulled you closer, his face inches away from your most intimate parts.

He let out a deep, almost pornographic groan as he leaned in, taking a slow, deep breath, as if breathing you in. The sound sent a jolt through you, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Charlie looked up at you one more time, his eyes searching, as if asking for final permission.

You smiled, your fingers sliding through his hair before giving a gentle but firm scratch along his scalp, your silent approval. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh before leaning in.

At first, his movements were hesitant, his tongue slipping out to give an experimental swipe. He was sloppy, uncoordinated, his lack of experience clear, but there was a determination in the way he moved, as if desperate to please.

You let out a soft hum, the sound encouraging him, and he grew a little more confident, his tongue pressing more firmly. He licked a long stripe up, his tongue swirling at the top, and you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

"That's it, Father," you murmured, your voice a soft purr. "You're doing such a good job."

The praise seemed to light something in him, a low groan vibrating against you as he pushed in closer. The sound made you gasp, your back arching slightly as the vibrations sent a rush of pleasure through you, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He grew bolder, his tongue delving deeper, slipping inside you as he began to eat you out like a man starved. He was messy, the wet sounds filling the small space, his lips and tongue moving with increasing fervor, as if the more he tasted, the more he craved.

He bullied his tongue into you, his nose brushing against you as he lost himself in the act, his hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you against him as he worked.

You bit down on your lower lip, trying to keep quiet, but the soft, wet sounds filled the small space, making it impossible to ignore.

Your hand moved up, your teeth sinking into the back of it as you stifled a moan, your thighs trembling as he continued. His tongue moved with determination, pressing deeper, swirling before retreating, then focusing on your most sensitive spot.

When his lips closed around your clit, giving a particularly hard suck, your vision blurred, and stars burst behind your eyelids. Your back arched, your body pressing against his face as the waves of pleasure rolled over you, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Your thighs shook as you slowly came down, your body relaxing slightly against the wall. You let out a shaky breath, your fingers still tangled in his hair, tugging gently. You gave Charlie a small shove, pushing him back just enough.

He hesitated, his tongue giving one last languid lick, followed by a reluctant suck before he finally pulled away, his lips glistening, his breath coming in low, heavy pants. His bottom face was a mess, his eyes half-lidded, dazed as he looked up at you.

You leaned down, your fingers cupping the bottom of his face, your thumb brushing over his flushed cheek as you gave him a swift peck on the corner of his lips. He blinked, his eyes widening slightly, a blush deepening across his face.

Straightening up, you reached down, picking up your discarded thong, folding it neatly before slipping it into the pocket of his cassock. He stared at you, his lips parted, his breathing still uneven.

"Thank you, Father~" you purred, your voice dripping with satisfaction. You watched as his blush deepened even more, his eyes darting away from yours. "You know," you continued, your tone teasing, "I might just have to come back for confession more often."

He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours, a mix of confusion and something darker swirling in them. You smiled, giving him a wink before turning on your heel, striding out of the closet, leaving him kneeling there, his breath still shaky, his face still flushed.

As you walked away, a satisfied smile playing on your lips, you couldn't help but think that maybe church wasn't going to be so bad after all.

A/N: hehehe, dont mind me, just wanted to see charlie's and y/n relationship in reversal...

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thinkinonsense · 3 months ago

Text

BLUSHʚɞ

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: pure fluff, slightly nsfw

wc: 400+

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Saturday mornings were a pivotal part of your relationship with Logan. It was the one day when nobody was allowed to bother the two of you. The day was spent wrapped in sheets and in each other's arms. Everyone in the mansion assumed you spent the day ravishing the other, which may or may not be a part of it; but it wasn't the main focus.

Logan laid you on top of his bare chest, heart to heart, while his right hand rested on the end of your silk pink underwear and his left hand traced lazily up and down your back. A lit cigar dangles from his lips; occasionally your hand that's laced around his neck will come and move it from his mouth only to replace the cigar with your lips.

Most of the time, you two sit in peaceful silence together during this time. Logan used this time to memorize every inch of you; engraving somewhere deep in his psyche.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" You hum, lifting a little to stare at his gorgeous hazel eyes. "Got another girl that you're daydreaming about?"

Logan knew you were teasing him, but when he saw his dog tags resting on your chest, he quickly shook his head 'no', "You're it for me, princess."

You smile at him with these doe eyes and he thinks you've put a spell on him. Logan loved how well you knew him; and how well he knew you in return. The 'big bad wolverine' was becoming a gentle romantic in the palm of your hand.

"Stop it." He playfully growls, looking anywhere else but your pretty face. "You're makin' me soft."

"Hm..." You sigh teasingly. "Usually, I have the opposite effect on you."

Logan is quick to look back at you with hunger in his eyes now. His grip on you tightens; sending a thrill to your tummy.

"Is that so, dollface?"

In the blink of an eye, Logan easily flips both of you over. You whine as he goes for your neck; kissing and nipping at the soft skin there. He adores how responsive you are. Can hear the way your heartbeat increases and can smell your eagerness. Your chest rises and falls as a rosy blush creeps up your face under his intense gaze. Logan loved it when that natural flush of color appeared; means he's doing something right.

"Mhm," You groan, throwing your head back when his canine teeth sink into the delicate skin. "You know you love it, Lo..."

You could feel the truth rubbing up against the inside of your thigh; he couldn't deny it even if he wanted to. Logan's biggest weakness is you.

"Whatever you say, princess..."

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ruth-odyssey · 5 months ago

Text

༺✩༻ Taking what's not yours

theodore nott x fem!reader

wc. 1.5k

summary: in which reader has a bad habit of taking her boyfriend's things.

tw. reader is a Gryffindor, some italien pet names

a/n. I genuinely have no idea how far from the Gryffindor common room the astronomy tower is soooo….

“Where in the world are you going at this hour?” You turn around, bag over your shoulder and a blanket in hand. Ron, Harry and Hermione are sitting around a table in the common room, Harry is looking at you clearly confused, eyes darting between you and blanket. “I'm going to the astronomy tower, I've got to finish up my star map for Trelawney.” Ron raises his head, looking at you as if the prospect of actually taking Trelawney’s homeworks seriously – which you had to do since you cannot bullshit your way through a star map – was unfathomable.

“We don't need to go to the astronomy tower for that homework?” Narrowing your eyes at Ron, you deadpan. “The homework is to draw a star map, meaning you have to see the stars Ronald. Unlike you two I won't settle for less than an A.” Harry snorts at that, clearly not caring one bit about said homework. He smiles at you, eyeing your blanket. “Where did you get that blanket from? I don't think I’ve ever seen this one before.” You glance at said blanket, the soft, fuzzy fabric already warming up your hand. “It’s – You knit your eyebrows, trying to come up with something. – it's kind of old so I don't use it much? Yeah that's why I’ve never seen it before.” You add more confidently. Hermione looks up from her own work, offering you a tired smile. “I think it's great that you’re putting in the work.” She glares at the two boys at that – while Hermione still thought that the study of divination was absolutely ridiculous, she didn't like how easily Harry and Ron would fake their way through their work (usually by predicting their own death) – You roll your eyes, heading towards the portrait. “I'll see you guys later!” You exit the common room, and start making your way to the astronomy tower.

—————————————

Okay, maybe you should have brought something warmer. You’re currently freezing your ass off in the astronomy tower, your divination homework already done, sitting on your laps, forgotten. Trying to concentrate on anything but the biting cold brought by the late october night, your ears fail to pick up the sound of footsteps. You snap your head towards the stairs, the sound of someone tripping and cursing bringing you back to reality. You get up as a figure appears. “Theo!” You smile and run up to him, finding comfort – and warmth – in his embrace. Your nose is filled with the smell of his cologne. “I'm sorry I'm late Bella, Draco and Mattheo keep asking me for help with the Arithmetic homeworks.” He apologizes, deep voice softer than usual, a tone he only uses with you. You leave his embrace, just enough to get a look at his face. The moonlight illuminating his features, green eyes, staring at you lovingly. His gaze travels from your face to the rest of your body. He smiles, taking in the blanket on your shoulder. “I was looking for that.” He says, his finger grazing the soft fabric of the blanket. You smile letting out a soft laugh. “Yeah Harry was wondering where I got it from.” “Cara mia you need to be more cautious, you did the same thing last week with my sweater. At this rate, your friends will soon find out about us.” As much as you loved your friends, you couldn't bring yourself to tell them about you and Theo. You simply couldn't tell Harry and Ron since they are convinced every single Slythrin are pure evil and with Hermione, – who you knew would be the most understanding – you had tried, only for her to tell you Draco had called her a mudblood yet again on the day you had planned to tell her. Theo’s hand finds your face, finger softly grazing your cheek. “Are you alright?” You nod, silently pulling his hand to sit down.

He sits down beside you, one arm around your waist, the other inside his pocket due to the biting cold. Man, I wish I had pockets right now. You flex your fingers, desperately trying to warm them up, when an idea pops into your head. You discreetly stuff your hands in Theo’s pocket, cuddling further into him. Theo raises an eyebrow as you shove your hands in his pockets. “What are you doing, trying to steal my pockets now?” He teases, you send him a scandalized look, a smile teasing the corner of your lips. “Stealing???! I’ll have you know I am simply borrowing it, since I’m cold!” Theo smiles, looking up at the sky. “Semantics… – he pauses and looks at you – So what are you gonna steal from me next? You’ve already got my heart, my blanket, my pocket… what's next on the list.” “Your family name.” Theo’s eyes widened a bit, clearly caught off guard by your answer. He quickly regained his composure, a smirk on his face. “I’ll be happy to oblige when we graduate cara mia.” You smile and he leans in, your lips meeting in a tender kiss, gentle and sweet, like the first snowfall of winter. Pulling away, you rest your head against his shoulder, content to spend some time with your boyfriend. Suddenly, Theo's head snapped to the side. You raise your head to look at him confused when he puts a finger over his lips. There. It's unmistakable; someone is coming up the stairs to the astronomy tower. Your eyes widen and you look at Theo, panicked. Could it be Filch? Or maybe a student? He silently gestures for you to get up and follow him. The both of you somehow manage to make it down, only to find Filch and Norris, blocking the very staircase leading to the Gryffindor common room. You turn to Theo who's been surveying the staircase, as if staring would make Filch leave faster. “What do we do, it's already late.” Theo’s eyes meet yours. “You could come to the Slytherin common room with me.” You open your mouth to protest but he stops you. “I’ve got my own room. You can sleep with me tonight and tomorrow I'll sneak you out early.” Thinking about it for a bit you nod – while you were still anxious about the whole thing there was absolutely no way in hell you’d pass up the opportunity to sleep with your boyfriend. – “Okay fine, let's go.”

Theeo’s room is exactly how you imagined it would be. Chaotic but at the same time organized, papers and discarded cups of coffee on his desk and stacks of books next to his bed. You remove your Gryffindor robes in favor of one of Theo’s t-shirts and slide beneath the soft, warm sheets. You sigh as Theo lays down behind you, his arm finding your waist. He places a kiss on the crown of your hair whispering a small good night.

—————————————

You wake up a few hours later. It's been a while since you’ve slept that well. You hear Theo shift behind you, his hand lazily draped over your waist. Letting out a deep breath, you shift your head slightly looking at the clock next to the bed. 8:35…. 8:35???!!!!! You bolted upright, the realization hitting like a bucket of ice water. You were late. Very late. “THEO, THEO WAKE UP!!!!” Theo let out a groan, shielding his eyes from the sun peaking through the curtains. You get out of bed, looking for your uniform. You enter the bathroom, quickly wash your face. Going back in the room, you rummage through your bag trying to find your mascara, concealer and some lip gloss, hoping none of your friends would question where you had spent the night. You glance at the bed where Theo is still half asleep. He opens his eyes a bit, just enough to look at you. “Cara mia what's going on?” “Theo, my love, it's currently – you look at the clock – 8:40, we are VERY late.” Theo’s eyes snap open. “WHAT.” He turns towards the clock, and groans, scrambling out of bed. He almost trips in his haste, putting on his pants and shirt. The both of you somehow manage to leave the Slytherin common room without being seen by anyone. Reaching the Great Hall, you give Theo a quick peck on the cheek, walking a little faster not to seem suspicious. You quickly make your way to the Gryffindor table, sitting next to Ron. Hermione looks up, smiling. She opens her mouth, eyes darting to your neck. You hold up a hand “Yes yes I know, I’m late, I’m sorry,” You grab a piece of toast, and serve yourself a cup of coffee, throwing a discreet glance at Theo, who’s currently talking with Draco. You make eye contact and his eyes linger on your neckline, he smirks and turns back to his conversation. You narrow your eyes, wondering what that was about. “Y/n?” You start buttering your toast. “Yes Hermione?” “Care to explain why in the name of Merlin you are wearing a Slytherin tie?”

#༺✩༻ravenwrites #harry potter x reader #hp fanfcition #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfic #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys x you #slytherin x reader

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 11 months ago

Text

Burns Like Rum

Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav

Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.

Word Count: 7,840 words

Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet

18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock

Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.

The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.

He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.

It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.

But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.

You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.

"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.

Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.

And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.

You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.

"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.

"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.

"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"

You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.

"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"

Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."

She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."

You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."

You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.

It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.

The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.

She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.

"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."

"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.

She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.

You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"

"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.

But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"

"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."

Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.

Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.

He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.

You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."

From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."

He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."

"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.

"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."

You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."

"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.

You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.

Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"

"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.

Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"

"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.

He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.

"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable

"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."

He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.

"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.

Astarion sighed. "...Night."

~❊~

You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.

You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.

"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.

"Stop what?"

"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.

Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"

"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."

You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"

Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."

You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"

"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."

You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.

His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.

"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."

"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"

Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.

"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.

Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.

"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"

"I could go for a little," you said.

Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.

You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.

He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.

"You're starving, aren't you?"

"You have no idea," he whispered.

"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."

Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"

You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."

His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"

A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.

Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."

"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.

He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."

~❊~

Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.

You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.

You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."

Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.

He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.

A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"

You nodded. "Just a bit."

Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."

You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.

"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.

He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.

"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"

Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."

Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.

"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.

"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.

You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.

It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.

Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"

You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.

The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.

"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.

You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.

Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"

You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."

"Are you ready?"

You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.

Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.

One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"

"Please do," you said.

"Arms up."

He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.

"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.

"Yes, dear?"

You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."

He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.

"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.

You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.

"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.

You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"

"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."

Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.

Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.

The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.

"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"

You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.

Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.

Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.

He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.

Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.

Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.

"Look at you," he whispered.

The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.

He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.

He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.

You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.

"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."

You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.

You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.

"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.

He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.

"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.

He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.

"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."

Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.

He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.

You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.

Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.

Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"

"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.

He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."

He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.

You smiled. "There's more where that came from."

Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.

You nodded. "I can take a few more."

He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."

You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."

The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."

He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.

Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.

He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.

"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.

You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."

The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."

You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."

He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."

You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"

Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.

"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.

Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.

You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.

You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.

"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.

He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.

Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.

Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.

The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.

Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.

You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.

But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.

He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"

You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.

"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."

He snorted. "Excuse you!"

"It's all over your face!"

He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."

Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."

He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.

"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.

"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"

Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."

You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.

"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.

You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"

The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.

"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."

He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."

You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.

His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.

His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."

You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."

Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.

"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."

He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.

You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.

When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."

You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."

You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."

He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."

Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.

You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.

He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"

~❊~

You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.

Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.

Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.

You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.

You were wrong.

Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.

"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.

"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"

You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"

She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"

"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."

She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."

You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.

You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.

Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"

You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"

"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"

You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."

Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.

"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.

Astarion smirked.

"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."

He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.

Karlach squeaked.

"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."

"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."

You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"

Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.

A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.

"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.

You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."

Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"

Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"

"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."

"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."

☞ ❊ ☜

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin

part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}

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rumisgf · 11 months ago

Text

PASSENGER PRINCESS - connie springer x black!reader

summary: your... best friend takes you on your weekly late nights drives. but, this night is different: both of you are aware of the tension between y'all even though neither of you address it- until tonight. warnings: marijuana usage, best friends to lovers, eventual smut, yk car sex, french kissing

you just had got off work, and today really wore you out. it was the usual: your manager was getting on your nerves, there was this lady who tried to argue with you over the counter, and you had to train probably the most incompetent teen who had just got hired. all you knew is you need a blunt and a nap.

as you're laying on your bed ready to kick your clothes off, your phone buzzes. a text from connie, probably the only person you have patience for right now. it reads 'you home?' to which he knows you are, he found out when you get off work (because he listens, of course. totally didn't do his own research before you even told him directly). the minute you text back he's calling your phone, and you roll your eyes a bit 'cause you already know he wants to bother you now.

"hello, sir?" you can hear him smack his lips.

"man, you not even tired! i'm 'bout to head out anyway, just wanted to see what you was doin' right now."

"what, you trynna pick me up?"

"don't ask dumbass questions, you want me to pull up or not?"

you smile to yourself, and get up to change out your work clothes. "mmm... yea. c'mon."

"bet." *click*

soon enough, you see his car pull up from your apartment window and make your way out the door. as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but grin to yourself. no matter how bad of a mood you're in you would never miss an opportunity to chill with his fine as- you mean, the only tolerable dude you know.

you open the car door, the smell of weed hitting your nose. "yooo!" connie greets you with a smile, and a wood in hand. he already had started to roll up before you even made it to the car.

"nigga, what did i tell you 'bout smoking outside here?! if i get in trouble, it is not gonna be my fault!"

"you'on wanna hotbox?" he asks obviously, making you roll your eyes as you buckle in your seatbelt.

he starts the car up and places one hand on the wheel, ready to find an empty parking lot. he notices how you stare outside the window, hand resting on your cheek. "work piss you off?" you simply reply with, "why?" and he says "you not talkin' like usual and actin' all bothered."

he was right, work did piss you off. but for some reason, he was making you especially nervous today. "ion know, just my manager was on dick today. and i had to train this lil' boy he was pissing me off too. i know he a kid but damn, this why i ain't wanna be a trainer in the first place. i already work overtime most of the week i don't be having the energy for that shit, y'know? he keep giving me all these things to do like my schedule not already tight and i'm busting my ass just to still not get promoted yet." it was nice to get stuff of your chest like this because it really calmed you down. better yet, he knew how to calm you down. he knows how to listen while making sure you're still having a good time.

he eventually pulls up to a gas station. "well, don't let that shit bother you. you probably gon get promoted anyway cause you actually do your job. besides, if that don't happen, i been telling you to quit anyway." getting out the car, he pulls his hoodie over his head and comes to open your car door. "now c'mon." "i don't want noth-"

"i said c'mon, mama, i'm getting you snacks! and i want some too i'm not leavin' you in here."

having no argument, you get out and walk with him inside. since it is late, you're the only ones in there and there's only one cashier in sight. the mid aged lady smiles at the two of you as she notices the door bell ring. you both grab a drink of choice from the freezer and make your way to the counter. he sees your eyes dart to a bag of chips, and he picks it up to place it down before you grab his hand. "you don't have to, con." he ignores you, sliding it to the cashier to scan. "oh, stop it, you act like i haven't payed for your hair before."

"your total is $12.59"

he pulls a 20 out his pocket, handing it to her a taking his change. as you both leave, she says "by the way, you two are such an adorable couple!" but, before you can correct her, connie replies

"thank you, ma'am!"

now, you're both sat in the car laughing at the interaction that just happened. "thank you? for real?" you say through giggling. connie simply shrugs, "i ain't wanna make her feel bad!" in your mind, you began to question his response still. why didn't he say no? "i mean shit, you don't look bad so." he stops, furrowing his eyebrows and side eyeing you. "oh, if i was ugly you woulda had a issue?" you look to the side as he pretends to start to be offended. "well, yeah duh." he laughs in response, you following after. "alright, dude."

eventually, he pulls into a random parking lot. you see a bench and a sign, so you assume this is just some park in the area. luckily, no one's here anyway. connie's hand finds the back of your headboard as backs up into a spot. "found this spot like yesterday, nobody really around at night. plus it's chill, i wanna talk to you and ion wanna be bothered seeing other people around."

you can't help but focus on his jawline as he looks back, barely paying attention to the words coming out his mouth. "you even listenin' to me?" he snaps you back into reality. you turn back in your seat as you smack your lips and he chuckles, settling back into his seat. he picks up from where he started, rolling a blunt for the both of you. once he finishes he pulls out a lighter from his glove department, bringing it to his mouth. your eyes pay good attention to his eyes glancing down at the wood, his fingers, his mouth as he inhales, and the way he looks at you after he puffs out smoke.. god he looked fine.

"damn, you gon' take it?" he asks before you even get the chance to zone out completely. you mutter "my fault" before taking it and bringing it to your own mouth. now, its his turn to examine your movements. you don't even notice him eyeing you: the way your acrylics look as you hold it, your makeup still looking nice after a full day of work, your closed lids, the way you're slightly titling your head back... fine as fuck he thinks to himself. he takes off his hoodie as his body warms up. when you look back at him, you see his toned arms in the moonlight and your face begins to heat up. "you feel better, ma?" you nod in response, attempting to contain yourself. however, he can't help but examine you and you begin to notice. "so, what you wanna talk abt?"

he uncharacteristically fiddles with his thumb and looks down. "well shit..." you take another hit, still making eye contact with him. "after that thing just happened it kind of reminded me even more," he takes a pause. he puts his hand out, and you pass the blunt to him before he continues. he brings it to his lips, slowly inhaling. then as he exhales,

"what if we was a couple?"

you take a second, nearly being took out your high that barely started coming over you. "oh.. uhm-"

"not like that, just what if, y'know?" he quickly interjects to save himself from possible rejection. "yeah of course....well, ion know like i said you not ugly." you end up shrugging. sure, you guys are friends, but it would be a complete lie to say you haven't thought about it yourself. you had just never planned on voicing it. "well, what do that mean?"

"i don't know, you not ugly. if we talking hypothetically you my type i guess." you explain, avoiding saying how you actually feel. "i guess is crazyyy." he leans back in his seat, throwing one of arms behind his head as he takes another hit. "so, i'm yo type?"

you feel yourself start to smile. "now what do you mean, sir?" he simply laughs. "i think you pretty too, y/n." his statement catches you offguard, and you find yourself speechless. he only laughs more and looks straight at you, now half-lidded with red hued eyes. "you ain't notice me starin' at you for how many times you been in my car? and you the only girl i really be having in my car, you basically my passenger princess."

the name passenger princess makes you feel warm in a place that you are not willing to acknowledge. "...well, i been starin' at you too. surprised you ain't notice" he's quiet for a second, then looks down at his lap with a smirk. "i did." you smack his arm and he's now in a fit of laughter as he relishes in your embarrassment. after a minute, he smiles at his eyes cant help but focus on your lips. "what?"

he takes a minute to think over the choices he's about to make. and after some thinking, he comes to a conclusion. "...c'mere, mama."

you stare at him for a second, questioning if this is a good idea. but, the way his arms look after removing his hoodie and the way he's manspreading is definitely blinding your judgement. so, you find yourself climbing in his lap just slightly raised up enough so you're not actually sitting on him. but, his hand wraps around your waist and makes you sit down. "aw c'mon, why you bein so shy? it's just me." and he's right. this isn't even the first time you've been this close to him or sat on his lap. your friendship has very little... boundaries. or better yet, you two have a closer platonic relationship than others.

he stares back at you as he raises the blunt in his hand to your lips. you take a hit, blowing smoke directly in his face. you both smile and laugh softly, connie biting his bottom lip. "you so goddamn fine, i swear."

all you respond with a soft giggle as you lean closer into his chest. he wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds eye contact. finally, you both slowly lean in, closing the distance between your faces. his lips instantly catch yours and set a steady pace. he tastes like soda and indica, but right now that is so delicious to you. subconsciously, you slowly move your hips on his laps in rhythm with the movement of your lips on his. he lowly grunts and pulls away. "woah, what you trynna do?" he mumbles, eyeing your body on top of his. "shit, i been holding in a lot, con... i'm on what you on."

his eyes find your thighs, then comes back up to your red, lazy eyes. "you sure, ma?" you bite your lip, "yeah... you want to?" a soft chuckle leaves his lips and he leans back in, centimeters away from your lips. "i been wantin' to do so much to you, y/n, i wanna make you mine.."

his lips crash onto yours and his hands immediately find your ass, massaging the plush skin hidden by your leggings. your tongue finds it way into his mouth and he matches you, tongues dancing with each other. you can feel his boner from under you, and you hope he can't feel you throbbing on top of him. he pulls away again, and tugs at the hem of your leggings.

"can i move these, baby?" he asks. you nod, and he pulls them down to your knees. you shimmy them off knowing you're better off without them restricting your ankles. in return, he scoots you back and he unzips his pants, pulling them down to reveal his stiff hard dick under his boxers. nearly drooling, you eagerly move back up and kiss him again. you grind your hips on his lap once more, moaning into his lips at the feeling. his hand go to guide you and kneed on your ass. he groans into the kiss, you making him harder than he already was.

then, you pull away. he takes a second to look down and notices the wet spot forming on his boxers. he smirks to himself, "damn, baby you that wet?" you look away, still grinding on him. he laughs to himself at your reaction then slides his hand down, pulling your underwear to the side. this thumb finds your clit and you gasp at the sudden contact. he rubs slowly, eyes glued down. he pays attentions to the way your hips begin to buck upward at his touch. then, he slowly slides two fingers into your entrance. "o-oh fuck-!" you moan out. looking back up to you, he licks his lips and focuses on you. "like that, mama?"

you hum in response, eyes closing with pleasure. grinning, he curls his fingers and earns a louder moan sliding out your lips like butter. the sound of you and your wetness as he plays with you is music to his ears. "c-connie..." as you moan out for him, he perks up teasingly. "hm, baby?" you open your mouth to speak, and cut yourself off with another moan. "i- fuck.. i need you"

"need what, babygirl?"

you whine, knowing he's making you say it. "..need you t' fuck me, bae.."

with that, he slips his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and keeping eye contact as he licks them clean. while he does this he lets you pull him out his boxers, dick springing out. you already had a feeling, but he's big. you stroke him slowly, taking notice of how he squirmed in your touch. "fuck, y/n.." his hips buck upward and his lids close for a second, slightly throwing his head back. you end up throwing off your underwear, leaving you in only your hoodie you left the house in.

"take yo time, okay?" he says softly as you lift up. you nod, and finally begin to sink down onto him. he bites his lips as he feels your slick coating him as you slide his dick into you. your hands grip his shoulders as you sit all the way down, feeling every inch of him. you both moan at the feeling. after a few seconds, you start moving up and down on him. your head falls into the crook of his neck, moaning onto his skin and sending chills down his spine. "f-fuck...baby.."

his hands find your hips, following your movements. "damn baby, just like that.. ride that shit.." you pick up the pace and your grip on him tightens. he now goes to grips your ass, helping move you up and down on all his length. "fuck-! 's so big.." you're whining and moaning into his shoulder, working yourself on him.

connie starts to move his hips in unison with you. "yeah, you like that shit? he starts grinning, looking at your face buried into him. "mhm.. love this dick.." your slick is staining his boxers even more as it drips down while you coat his dick in arousal. "i know, mama, this pussy takin' me so well... you wet f' me." he smacks your ass, earning a small gasp out of you. "look at me, ma."

you lift your head and he smiles at you, admiring your current state. "sexy as fuck.." he moves to massage your hips before pecking your lips. "love you, princess." your heart flutters, as well as your pussy, and your lips form a small smile. "love you, pa" you circle your hips on him and he hums with satisfaction, curses falling out his mouth. "yeah, just like that.. so fuckin' good.."

you ride him with intent, doing it like you had always did in your fantasies. "you feel so good.." you moan, your hole gripping him tighter. "fuck.. i know, ma, i know. takin' this dick so well."

a knot begins to form in your stomach and your eyes squint again as you look back at him. "baby, 'm gonna cum.." you moan, now moving up and down faster. in response, he begins fucking up into you at the same pace.

"mhm c'mon, nut all on this dick." your moans grow in volume and you become putty in his hands. "fuckfuckfuck!" you cry out as your eyes close shut, and you're slamming your ass down on him as you chase your high. he moans as he watches you, holding you tighter. "yeah, there you go mama..." soon, you begin writhing on him as you cream on top of him, painting his dick white. you can feel the strings of your own cum as he continues to thrust into you, reaching his own orgasm. "c-connie! fuck!"

"'m close baby, 'm close, i know." his breathes are frantic and his head is thrown back. "holy fuck, baby.. shit-!" he pulls out as he jerks himself, releasing himself on your ass. you both lay on each other, out of breath as you come down. he looks at you, a smile growing on his face. "don't you go fuckin' somebody else like that, you mine now."

you smile back tiredly, leaning in to kiss him. this kiss is slow, and loving. you pull away, "and you mine."

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hijackalx · 9 months ago

Text

MALE BG3 CHARACTERS EATING OUT F!READER +18

characters included: gale, astarion, wyll, gortash

FEMALE BG3 CHARACTERS

a/n: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY YALL!!!! your bg3 pookies have a present for you !!!! (hint: it’s head)

ASTARION

you guys already know i’m a pleasure dom astarion truther 😹😹 at the end of the game he is WHIPPED for you. so he enjoys every minute of giving you head

and he’s so good at it. and he knows he’s good at it

well— he’s good at it as long as he has the patience. sometimes he’d just rather make you finish on his cock and you know how he is when he wants something

ANYWAY……. he’s obsessed with the way you taste. and smell. especially when you’re close to/on your period. will literally BEG you to let him eat you out then

can be a little rough when you’re bleeding though. he gets a bit overexcited 😹😹 sometimes he has to stop and bite your thigh to regulate himself, which honestly hurts worse LMAO

will look you in the eyes while he kisses your clit

he basically never breaks eye contact. eye contact is HUGE for him. he’s mostly watching how you react so he can adjust accordingly, but he also loves how intimate it is

SO much praise if you react the way he wants— “thaaat’s it... that’s my girl”. he loves hearing you whimper his name, he could literally get off to that alone. your voice is as sweet as you taste

secretly loves when you reach out to hold his hand lol. he thinks it’s so cute

also loves having to hold your legs open when you start to squirm/try to close them. your thighs will be so bruised after

when you tell him how good it feels he goes “i know, i know” in the sweetest, faux-sympathy tone. he’s cocky with it lmao

immediately goes “come give me a kiss, darling” after you finish and he hasn’t wiped his face off yet. half of him is doing it to tease you and the other half genuinely wants you to kiss him lol

WYLL

i’m going to be honest i think you’re his first

he’s a little nervous to try it but he’s also SO eager. he’s just worried he’s not going to be good at it lol

he needs a lot of praise and reassurance. he’s constantly watching your expressions to see if you like it, but at the same time he doesn’t really know what to do if you don’t 😹

at first he’ll need some direction but he learns so fast. will start out slow and hesitant but eventually just loses himself in the pussy LMAO

gets rock hard from eating you out. the sounds and faces you make drive him crazy, mostly because he’s so eager to please. LOVES to know when he’s doing good

the type to moan into your pussy. probably because he’s grinding into the bed 😹😹

i think he could probably finish just from eating you out

when he gets more confident, he can be a bit of a tease. sometimes he’ll stop to pepper kisses on your thighs so he can hear you beg for him to keep going

he feels bad making you beg for too long though so he gives in pretty quick lol “anything for you, my love” or “your pleas are so beautiful— how could i say no?”

also i think he’ll eventually try to fuck you with his fingers while he eats you out too. once he gets the hang of balancing both it’s MAGICAL

likes to eat you out while you’re standing. something about having your leg propped over his shoulder while looking up at you from his knees does something to him BAD

he usually doesn’t want to overstim you because it feels mean 😹😹 but he will absolutely keep going if you want him to

GORTASH

i don’t think he really ate pussy before he met you LMAO

he seems like he can be a pretty selfish lover— if there’s nothing in it for him then what’s the point?

BUT……….. there’s something about you…….

he feels a little weird the first time he gets the urge to do it. he sticks his fingers in his mouth to clean them after they were inside you…… and when that creamy taste hits his tongue….. boom……. his third eye opens

he’s not super adept at it to start, but he’s got the spirit 😹😹

he literally eats it like he’s STARVING. i’m talking lickin’ and suckin’ on ANYTHING he can put in his mouth. nothing is safe. clit? assaulted. lips? sucked on. hole? tongue-fucked

even when he’s eating you out it’s like he’s doing it for himself LMAO. he just disappears into his own little world

he DOES love your praise though, so that kind of encourages him to try to work it out of you. he needs to hear you tell him how good it feels or it’ll bruise his ego

reaches up to knead a titty while he’s doing it

LOVES to do a bunch of hungry, flat sweeps with his tongue. will also press and hold it against you like that to get you to grind on it. he wants to see how needy you are

will say nasty shit into your pussy. “you taste so fucking good, baby”, “daddy loves this pretty little pussy of yours”. you can feel every vibration from his voice

will want to spit in your mouth after

GALE

i feel like gale is the greatest pussy eater there is. like he basically has no vices when it comes to eating you out

he’s extremely sensitive and receptive so he always knows what to do. sometimes you don’t even have to say anything. he just figures it out

his FAVORITE position is facesitting. eating pussy is a literal hobby to him

he’s SO good with his tongue. he has such good control of it and uses it to absolutely destroy your clit. his switching between circling and flicking will make you finish embarrassingly fast

will overstimulate you if you let him. he’ll keep making you cum on his tongue until your whole body is shaking

also the way his beard feels against your inner thighs/lips…………… magnificent……

since he’s a thigh man he loves to knead/bite/rub on your thighs too. will legit almost bust when you try to close your legs around his head. it’s that serious 😹😹

LOVES when you grind on his face. will grab you by the hips and encourage you to do it. you using his face to get off is so hot to him

likes to stimulate your g-spot with his fingers while simultaneously sucking on your clit. also gets off to all the lewd, wet sounds he creates while he does this

moans and groans like he’s eating a five star meal LMFAO

talks A LOT but it somehow doesn’t get in the way of what he’s doing. most of it is incoherent mumbling along the lines of “so good, so good”— but other than that he tells you how gorgeous/perfect your pussy is. i’m not joking when i say he worships your pussy

he WILL try to make you squirt. he’s in the splash zone for a reason baby

#U KNOW I HAD TO DROP SOMETHING FOR VALENTINES DAY GANG #astarion #enver gortash #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #astarion x reader #enver gortash x reader #gale dekarios x reader #wyll ravengard x reader #x reader #bg3 #my headcanons

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ozzgin · 7 months ago

Note

Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)

Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D

Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW

[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]

The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.

Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.

"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."

You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:

"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."

He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.

"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”

Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.

“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.

“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”

“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.

You sigh.

Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.

How's your life with Zzy going?

You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?

On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”

If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”

Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.

As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.

Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.

"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.

"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."

You sigh once more and roll over.

"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.

"Just go to sleep. Or something."

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rueclfer · 4 months ago

Text

shut up, my moms calling // touya todoroki pt two

a/n: req from one of yall who sent in multiple prompts a lil bit ago!!! hi anon i hope u see this <3 also not to be lazy but i'm gonna piggyback this req off of this touya fic of mine as a pt 2 to save myself the contextualizing.. so read that one too lmao.

also i def got ambitious and FAR from the req but i still hope you enjoyed heh..

"Scoot over, Touya, you're taking up the entire bed." You huff, actively elbowing him in the chest.

"You mean my bed?" He whines. "This is why I never want to share the bed with you. You're a blanket AND pillow hog, and I always get shoved all the way to the edge.

"Get your ass on the floor then." You shove him harder, in which he retaliates by grabbing your wrists.

"I always sleep on the fucking floor. Either you deal with sharing a bed, or you take the floor this time."

"So annoying." You mutter under your breath, wriggling out of his grasp and accepting your defeat.

It was nearly 2am and you two had not seen each other all day, which resulted in him being clingier than usual, of course. Touya would never admit it, but you had him all figured out. Quality time may be his top love language, but when that love-tank is low, he immediately defaults to physical touch, making it nearly impossible for you to get away from him if you really wanted to,

After much adjustments, you two silently settled on a position where your face was pressed against his chest, facing each other with your arms wrapped around one another and legs intertwined.

"Can you breathe?" He mutters against your forehead.

"Mmhm." You sigh against his chest in content. "You're so warm and you don't smell like shit for once."

"Stop talking." He hums, letting himself run his hand through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp.

You could melt at this moment. With your fingers drawing circles on his back paired with his own in your hair, you could feel yourself savoring this moment forever, locking it in your memories.

It had been a couple of weeks since you two exchanged your first kisses at the river, and not a single word about it had been uttered about it since. There was no way to bring it up to him again without feeling awkward, but it had plagued your mind everyday- multiple times a day. If you could slap yourself across the face every time you let the memory fluster you, you would. After all, your friendship continued as if nothing happened.

"Did Fuyumi tell you?" You whisper, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Tell me what?" His eyes remain closed.

"That Keigo kid asked me out the other day."

His eyes pop open and meet yours. All motion stops. He snakes his hand from your scalp to grab your shoulder and leans back to get a better view of your face.

"The fuck? Keigo? The other day?"

You nod your head in response.

"Why the hell did you tell Fuyumi before me?" His eyebrows furrow.

"I don't know! Keep your voice down." You hush. "It was a girl thing." You shrug.

"A girl thing..." He rolls his eyes. "And what did you tell him?"

You nervously fiddle with the back of his shirt, piling it in fistfuls.

"I said I would get back to him about it." You nervously chuckle. "Is that bad? It caught me off guard so I didn't know what to say."

He huffs out a chuckle before closing the space between you two again, moving his hand to your lower back and tracing a finger against the skin exposed by your shirt lifting

"Good. Tell him it's a no next time you see him."

"What? But what if it's a yes?"

"It's not. He's an asshole and an idiot." He yawns into your hairline, and rubs his cheek against your forehead.

You pinch the skin on his waist, bringing his attention back to you. "You don't get to decide that for me, dipshit."

"Never in a million years will he fucking deserve you, Y/N. Fuyumi probably told you the same thing." He returns the pinch, pulling back once again.

He was right. She did in fact tell you the same exact thing.

"Sounds like you're just jealous. What, one kiss and all of the sudden you're in love with me?" You tease. "Can't handle seeing me with another guy?"

You didn't know what you were doing, or how those words slipped off your tongue. You bit your cheeks in regret the moment you felt his body stiffen against yours.

"Jealous? As fucking if. I'm just being a good best friend. Do what you want, but if he breaks your heart then don't come back crying to me."

Just like that, he easily averted the mention of your kiss- which of course annoyed you.

"Fine. Let me actually text him right now. Maybe as my bestest friend ever, you can help me draft it." You feel around under your pillow for your phone.

You open your text chain with Keigo, hovering your thumbs over the keyboard. "Alright let's see." You began reading out loud as you type. "Hey Keigo, thought about it, and I think you're really sweet and so sexy and would love to-"

Before you could continue, Touya slaps the phone out of your hand, letting it hit the ground behind him with a harsh thud.

"Touya!" You scold after a loud gasp of shock.

You shove him hard onto his back, swinging a leg over him in order to reach down and attempt to retrieve your phone from the other side of the bed. You couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction from this obvious outburst of jealousy. Maybe in some sense, it validated the thread of tension hanging between you two that he had seemingly been ignoring.

"I knew it, you jealous fuckin-" You start before the bedroom door swings open, causing you to duct down under the covers.

"Touya? Y/N? Are you guys okay in there? I heard someth-" Rei begins, stopping the moment she sees the abandoned floor mattress next to the bed and your silhouette straddling Touya.

"Mom!" Touya whines, nearly shoving you off of him to jump out of bed. "Knock next time, please." He huffs as he bends down to pick up your phone, tossing it on the bed next to you.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry guys." She covers her mouth in shock.

Rei flips on the light switch and audibly releases a sigh of relief to confirm that you two were indeed still fully clothed.

"Do you guys....have... you know." She begins, stammering over her words. "Are you guys being safe? You know, I don't care what you do as long as you're both safe, okay? Also, please be a little quieter. I know it's a weekend, but everyone is sleeping."

Your eyes widen in horror after grasping onto what she was insinuating. You smash your face into the comforter in embarrassment.

"Rei, I promise you we weren't..." You pop your head up and wave your hands out in denial. "We were just talking and Touya just.." You motion to him. "Tell her, dumbass!" You throw a pillow at him.

"We are not having sex, mom. Y/N's just being stupid." He presses his lips together in a tight line. "But we will use protection if we do. Thanks."

"Oh my god, but we're not going to." You quickly quip in. "I promise we'll keep it down. So sorry for waking you."

You wanted to melt into the floor and disintegrate all together. You shove your face in your hands to hide your humiliation. Your body was hot all over and were suddenly sweating through your pajama shirt.

"Great! Alright then. We'll talk more in the morning." She nervously chuckles. "Goodnight guys, and please keep it down."

The moment the door clicks shut, you turn and slap his shoulder.

"What the fuck?!" You whisper-yell. "But we will use protection if we do? Are you insane? I can never sleep over again, that was so embarrassing." You cry.

"Chill out, it's fine." He laughs, picking up the thrown pillows off of the floor. "Embarrassing yeah, but would you be surprised if I told you that wasn't the first time she tried giving me the talk? About you specifically? At least you don't have to hear that shit."

"About me?!" You exclaim. "Shut the fuck up, no way?"

Touya settles back into bed on his back with his hands behind his head while you sit criss-crossed right next to him, cooling down from the embarrassment.

"Mmhm. Like twice already." He nods his head.

"Does she know that we're not dating or anything?" You cock an eyebrow. "She definitely knows that, right?"

"Well yeah, no shit." He shoots you a sideways glance. "But you don't have to be dating to...do all that."

"What does she say about me?"

"I don't know, of a whole bunch of bullshit I already know?" He begins tapping his fingers on your knee. "Like 'oh, Touya, Y/N's really sweet and we love them, but you have to treat them nice and I know teenage feelings are complicated, but if you really like them and want to ever do anything more, just have really good communication and practice safe sex. Always!"

"Rei has such a way with words." You say through gritted teeth, finally laying down besides him, both now looking up at the glow in the dark stars plastered on the ceiling.

"Yeah, so if you ever wanted to do another 'science experiment,' she got us condoms. It's in the first drawer on the nightstand next to you."

Your jaw drops and you slap a hand over to cover your gaping mouth. The heat returns to your face.

"She did not." You choke out, snapping your head towards him.

"She did." He chuckles. "I told her you literally just got your first kiss and didn't think you would need them anytime soon, but ya know she likes to be careful I guess."

"Wait, you told her we kissed?"

You scooted closer to Touya, now looking at him on your side while he remained on his back looking upwards.

"Mom-senses are kinda scary. When you left the next day, she said we were acting weird and grilled it outta me." He shrugs. "I was honest. Guess that's what triggered this safe sex bullshit."

"God dammit, Touya. So she 100% thinks we're together." You press your lips together.

"You act like that's the worst thing in the world." He shoots you a side glance. You said nothing.

Since that night, you often thought about the possibility of being "more than friends" with Touya, but you couldn't help but shake off the lingering thought that maybe the "science experiment" of a kiss was all that it was for him- nothing but an experiment. You weren't too sure what to do with the possibility that it was something more meaningful for you in that case.

"Anyways, she probably has her own thoughts and opinions, but I told her we're not."

"I see." You mutter. "What are your thoughts and opinions?"

"About... being together? Like that?" He glances over to you.

"Keigo asking me out, the kiss, and your mom thinking we're together and stuff, everything in between."

You watch his face carefully as he takes a second to think about his answers. You see the gears turning in his head, but not quite sure what would come out of his mouth.

"You first." He quickly spits out.

You deadpan. "You know what? Nevermind. Goodnight, dipshit." You turn around, facing away from him and pull the covers up to your chin.

"Okay okay okay, come back. I'll spill my heart out for you if that's what you really wanna hear at 2am right now." You could hear the annoyance in his voice, bringing a smile back to your face.

You cheerily turn back around to see him back on his side, facing you now.

"Perfect. Go on." You say, shoving your leg in between his own.

"So Keigo." He starts.

"Mmhm."

"Annoys the living shit out of me. Genuinely. And I'd hate to see you waste your time on that sorry motherfucker, but if you actually do like him, which I don't see how, do what you want. I come first though, don't forget it. Best friend priorities."

"See, I knew you were jealous." You smile. "I don't think I was considering it anyways, but nice to hear your big boy thoughts about it, you cutiepie."

"That's what I thought. Why the fuck would you need him when you have me?" He smirks.

You roll your eyes. "Okay, now tell me how you feel about your mom thinking we're bonking."

"Idiot." He chuckles. "I don't really give a fuck about what she thinks? We got free condoms- use them, don't use them, take some for Keigo if you ever wanted to do some charity work, I don't care, but she can think what she wants to think."

"What about your thoughts on us being together?" You mutter. "Like hypothetically just to humor her suspicions."

He stops and stares at you for a second, biting his bottom lip as he thinks.

"Uh. Let me get back to you about that one."

You wave it off. "Okay fine, so then the kiss."

"I want you to go first for that, and you can't get mad at me because the kiss was for you... mostly."

You hesitated for a moment, sighing in place of an answer. You weren't quite sure how much, if any, information to reveal about your true feelings about it all. "The kiss... was... definitely a kiss?" You breathe out awkwardly "It was nice. Really nice. And I enjoyed it."

"Okay. Ditto and ditto." He nods, motioning for you to continue.

"And I don't necessarily know what this means, but I think about it a lot. Like. A lot." You emphasize. "I don't know, maybe it means nothing."

"Okay...so you wanna do it again?"

It seemed like your brain short circuited for a moment.

"Hah?" You blink.

"Well, I think about it a lot too. And I also don't really know what that means or how to feel about it, so maybe... we can do it for science again...a 2.0?" You hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Like do it again to confirm our final thoughts?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Yup."

"I see."

"Only if you want. I don't really care either way. Up to you." He quips. "I just.. am confused."

You roll your eyes. "Don't even try to act so nonchalant when you're the one asking for me to kiss your stupid ass again. You want me so bad." You joke to alleviate the thick fog of tension filling the room.

"Yeah, want you to shut the fuck up." He mutters in an annoyed tone. "Yes or no."

"Yes, fine." You squeak out, tensing when his hand meets your cheek. "I guess it would be good.. for science."

"Okay cool." He huffs. "Relax." He says under his breath, pulling you in closer to him. "We know what we're doing now, don't we?"

You reciprocate his movements, letting your hand rest against the side of his face, swiping your thumb back and forth on the skin under his eye.

"I'm nervous." You whisper, glancing back and forth between his lips and eyes.

The tip of your noses were grazing each other's, and lips just mere inches from meeting.

"Still? Well don't be. It's just me." He lightly rubs his nose against your own, eyes glued on your lips, and occasionally glances back up to meet your eyes. "And we've done this before, remember?"

He stares at you through a beat of silence and drags a thumb across your bottom lip. "Don't freak out."

He closes the gap between you two before you could respond, instantly melting under his touch.

Compared to your first kiss together, this one felt hotter, needier, and more desperate from the way he pulled you even closer to his body by the waist and locked your legs in between his own, as if you were in for the devouring.

You were tense, but feeling his hand tenderly cup your cheek made you feel a bit more secure, letting yourself lean deeper into the kiss.

Chills ran up your spine the moment his other hand met the exposed skin lower back, playing with the hem of your tee shirt.

"Is that okay?" He asks against your lips, letting his fingers start to crawl up under the fabric.

You nod your head in silence as your stomach erupts in flutters and flames, heightening every sensation of him exploring your bare skin.

"This is where you're the most ticklish." He smiles against your lips, moving his hand up the curve of your waist.

"This is where I kicked you on the swing set when we were 13." Rubbing the soft space between your shoulder blades, pecking your lips in between words. "Sorry, by the way."

"I forgive you." Your breath out a laugh before pressing your lips back to his.

"And you have a freckle right here." He grips the space where your spine meets your neck.

"How do you know that?"

"I'm observant."

Your own hand makes its way to the back of his head from his cheek. Your fingers become entangled with the hair on the nape of his neck, lightly twirling a lock between your pointer and thumb. You tug on the silvery locks, gifting you a throaty, hungry groan from him.

You snap back in shock, meeting his own set of wide eyes.

"Okay let's stop there." He coughs, snaking his arm back from under your shirt and turning on his back to dart his eyes away from your own.

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your nervous laughter after you ground yourself back to reality.

"Shut up." He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"Sorry. That good, huh?"

"No shit." He huffs, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Anyways, back to the point, horn-dog." He faces you.

You were lucky the only source of light was the haze of moonlight shining through the window on the other side of the room. If there was any more light, you were sure he would be able to see your embarrassingly flushed face.

"Right, the point." You cough. "So... thoughts?"

"You want me to be real with you?"

"Duh."

"I don't know who you've been practicing on for these past couple of weeks, but that was good. So much better than the first time- not saying you did a shit job, but yeah a lot better."

You blush at the half-assed compliment and bring your hand up to his forehead to flick him right between the eyes. "The other thoughts, dumbass. How do you feel?"

"I'm not sure if I want to say...yet." He continues, gauging your reaction.

"What?" You groan. "You said you'd be real with me."

"Well, what do you think I'll say? Or hoping?" He cocks an eyebrow.

That it feels real. That you want me as much as I want you. That this won't change anything between us. That this isn't a science experiment. That you're in love with me.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I guess I just want to know if I could ever be relationship material? Like after the kiss and knowing me, am I hopeless or what?"

"That's why you asked about us hypothetically being together?"

"Uh, yes?" You bit down on your bottom lip.

"Oh." He mumbled, shifting awkwardly.

A beat of silence passes while he thinks for a moment.

"I think that Keigo might be the smartest fucker out there right now. It pains me to see you act like a lovesick puppy for people who don't see how cool and great and how much of a catch you are and I'm sorry that Keigo just so happens to be someone that does." He sighs.

"Actually, scratch that." He continues. "I'm the smartest fucker out there. I've been known how fucking great you are." He laughs. "Yeah fuck Keigo. He's has good taste, but fuck him because I've been doing it first."

You chuckle a bit, your heart swelling at the turn-around of a compliment. "Yeah, but at least he likes me-like me. Enough to ask me out."

Touya goes quiet, lips pressed together in a tight line.

"Well to answer your question fully, I think my mom is onto something."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Like if I could've been better at communication, then we would've been together a long time ago."

"As in..." You start, waiting for him to continue as the air is sucked out of your lungs.

"As in, I like you-like you."

"You like me-like me... as in have feelings for me?" You draw out, staring at him in shock.

He nods in response.

"Since the first time we kissed?"

"Since the first time we met, actually."

Your mouth gapes open with no words coming out, digesting this sudden confession.

"You're fucking with me right now?" You whisper, clutching onto fistfuls of the comforter.

"I wish, but I'm not." He sighs, reaching a finger up to push a stray hair behind your ear. "I wasn't going to say anything, but you're such a dumbass who always talks down on yourself and it makes me sick. You have to know that there is at least one person in this world who would burn everything else down if it was your happiness on the line. I really fucking like you and I'd rather die than let that ruin our friendship, okay?"

In this moment, both of you were holding your own breaths, not quite sure if any sudden movement might burst this moment between you. Touya inherently knew it was time to tell you how he felt and that he couldn't go the rest of his life scaring away potential lovers while being terrified to claim the position himself. You, on the other hand, agreed that if anything did jeopardize your relationship with him, you wouldn't forgive yourself.

"I'm scared. I don't want to ruin our friendship either." You choke out with tears beginning to flood your eyes, causing his own to widen in panic.

"Hey whoa, what are you crying for?" He scoots in closer to you, holding you against his chest. "Seriously Y/N, I tell you I like you, and you start crying? God, just call me a piece of shit already." He chuckles, wrapping his arm around you.

"It's not that." You muffled into his now tear stained shirt. "It's that I like you too and I don't know what to do about it, but I don't want to ruin us or risk anything that will."

He takes a sharp intake of air, and continues to rub circles against your back.

"Well, I'll have you as much as you'll give me. Don't worry about it, okay? I love you- as my closest friend, favorite human being, my other half. All of it."

"What do we do?" You whisper, looking up at him.

"Uhh...sleep and talk about it tomorrow? Sit on it?"

"You think I can fucking sleep now?" You whine. "What's wrong with you?"

"You're cute." He smiles, moving his hand from your back to your cheek, rubbing away the dampness of the tears. "Alright then you tell me, what do we do? The ball is in your court."

"What would it look like if we started dating?" You asked.

"Exactly this? More kissing? Putting those condoms to use?"

You slap his shoulder. "Fucking idiot."

"Okay. Then, what if we don't start dating?" You huff, your face burning now.

"Same thing maybe? Less kissing? Condoms collecting dust?" He shrugs. "I guess I'll keep taking the floor for sleepovers?"

"You're not going to try to go out with anyone else?"

"I'll just wait for you."

You pout at the simple tenderness of his answer. You wanted to stay like this forever- close to him, the warmth of his body radiating into your own, your hands all over each other. You knew that it was possible too. To stay here.

"I think, maybe we can do it." You finalize. "Or try to, at least."

"Really?" He tips your chin upwards to meet his surprised eyes. "You really want to try?"

"I do. I'm scared, and I think you are too so if we put our fears together, we can't fuck this up, right?" You nervously joke. "For the sake of Rei too. Let's prove her right."

He leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead, simultaneously reaching over to your hand and locking his pinky in with yours, solidifying an unspoken promise to one another.

I love you. You're my best friend. You're my other half. We'll always try.

#im sorry i can never write anything casually #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #dabi #dabixreader #dabi x reader #mha dabi #dabi todoroki

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bangchansnudes · 2 months ago

Text

baby

fuckboy!hyunjin. 1.6k word. cliched enemy to lovers(??) with a douchebag hyunjin.

“don’t tell me you’re scared of some fake gore,” the boy whispers over to you, followed by a mocking chuckle, “need me to protect you baby?”

“shut up.”

“baby.”

“shut-”

“can you both shut up and just watch the damn movie?” seungmin says from his sitting position on the floor, his head turning back to glare at both you and hyunjin on the couch, “i swear if i need to pause it again, i’m throwing both of you out in the cold!”

if it weren’t for the fact that your roommate was dating seungmin, you would never ever interact with someone like his best friend, hwang hyunjin, let alone let him into your apartment.

but unfortunately for you, the two were the ultimate besties which meant where one boy went, the other usually followed. that’s why it had become a norm for the four of you to hang out. like right now, a weekend movie night.

you really didn’t mind seungmin, the boy was nice and treated your roommate well but hwang hyunjin was a whole other story.

hwang hyunjin. sigh. the boy was the literal definition of a fuck boy. an obnoxious frat boy who flirted his way through every living thing in a skirt. yeah, that was a way to describe him.

at first, hanging out with him wasn’t all that bad. you actually didn’t mind him either, the boy was somewhat funny and that face of his was just absolutely breath taking. one of the many reasons why he was so popular around town.

but then he began treating you differently, for some reason. he’d go out of his way to annoy you, to insult you, to tease you. he seemed to suddenly hate you and he made sure to let you know that.

and it had been hell since.

“i’m gonna make more popcorn,” you get off the couch and head towards the kitchen, sighing at the thought of having to spend the rest of the night with hyunjin. classes had already been hell for you so the last thing you needed tonight was a screaming match with the fuck boy.

“don’t do too much thinking, your small brain might explode.”

that voice. that god awful voice.

you turn around to see the devil himself leaning against the kitchen entrance, arms crossed over and a smug grin on his stupid handsome face.

“what? cat got your tongue babe?” he makes his way over to you, cornering you in against the kitchen cabinet, “or have you finally fallen in love with me?”

“fuck off hwang,” you push at his chest but the boy doesn’t budge, only laughing at your weak move, “i’m not in the mood to deal with your shit.”

“what do you have against me anyway?” he leans in closer to you, both his hands now resting on either sides of you on the cabinet, “is it cause i’m so good looking and so popular?”

gulp.

this has to be the closest you’ve ever been to hyunjin, his face barely even an inch away from yours. the smell of his cologne is attacking you from every direction, a very clear indication that he was way into your personal space than necessary.

“no hwang. i hate you because you’re so obnoxious and so self centred!”

“oh really?”

“yes!” your hands push up against his chest again as you say so, preventing the boy from coming any closer to you, “you think everything is about you! just because all the girls on campus wants to fuck you, doesn’t mean you can be such a douchebag all the time!”

perhaps you were crazy but you swear you could see his gaze move from your eyes to your lips as you spoke, the boy clearly not paying any attention to your words. you’re not sure why he’s suddenly so quiet, why he’s not throwing insults at you but the way he’s staring is making you more nervous than ever.

you try to avoid his weird, intense gaze by moving away but the boy stays put, his arms on either sides of you seemingly sliding closer to your body instead.

“mo- move-”

“do you wanna fuck me?”

“what the fuck hyunjin?”

“you said every girl on campus wants to fuck me right? well do you wanna fuck me?”

“of course not!”

“well that’s really too bad,” he scoffs, a playful grin on his face as his hands grab onto your waist, holding you in place, “cause i wanna fuck you though.”

your mouth is frozen, your mind unable to process the words that had come out of his mouth. maybe you were just hearing things because there was no way he had just said what he said to you.

the boy who had made your life a living hell these past two months wanted to what? fuck you?

“you... what?”

“i said, i want to fuck you,” his grip on you tightens with every word, fingers now gripping so harshly into your skin that you’re certain marks will appear by tomorrow morning, “and if you don’t tell me to stop, i am going to kiss you right now.”

gulp.

“th- this isn’t funny. let go.”

you let out a squeal when he suddenly lifts you up onto the cabinet and moves to stand in between your dangling legs. his body is now comfortably pressed against yours, his arms tightly around your waist while yours are resting on his shoulders. it’s a position you wouldn’t have ever imagined you’d be in with him but here you are and you’re not pushing him away either.

“does it look like i’m trying to be funny?” his lips brushes past yours just slightly as he says so, a move you would’ve surely punched him for but at this moment, you don’t know how to react.

so many things are running through your mind, so many different potential reasons as to why he was suddenly acting this way.

“too late baby.”

and his lips were on yours before you could even respond, kissing you with so much force that your bottom lip immediately hurts. the boy is evidently desperate, wanting to taste more of you than just the surface.

his hands casually slides underneath your shirt as he continues to kiss you, causing an instant shiver through your body from his touch alone. you feel as though your body is on fire, every part of you screaming to be touched, to be pleased.

he moves away from you slightly after a bit, just enough for you to catch your breath again. he doesn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time, the intensity of his gaze only causing an embarrasing pool in between your legs. in addition to the pool that was already there during the kiss.

“if you just want to get your dick wet, well you’re not getting shit from me hwang.”

lies. you know for a fact that one more move from the boy and you’ll probably end up on your knees if he told you to.

but he didn’t need to know that.

“actually i’ve been trying for two months but you’re too fucking dense to notice,” he rolls his eyes at you, clearly annoyed, “why else would i spend every single weekend here? you think i really want to watch shitty b grade movies with the lovey dovey couple?”

“wait... what?”

“i flirt with you every single time! as if you really didn’t know!”

“being a dick is your way of flirting?” you make a disgusted face and slap his chest, “how on earth do you get girls everyday being this way?”

“well i haven’t had a girl in two months because the one i want is oblivious as fuck.”

silence.

...

more silence.

“well- well... i-”

“just shut up,” he smashes his lips onto your onces again, this time kissing you in a way that had your knees weak and your body feeling like mush. it’s a slow and sensual kiss, as if the boy is taking his time with you, wanting to feel every part of you.

you end up whimpering into the kiss when one of his hands moves to trace the thin lining of your pants, his fingers teasingly slipping past the band. but to your dismay, that’s all he does.

“hyunjin...”

“yeah baby, i’m right here.”

“oh. my. god,” you and hyunjin immediately freeze at your roommate’s sudden gasp, only to see her and seungmin standing at the entrance, completely disgusted, “i knew you guys would’ve ended up fucking one day but PLEASE not in my kitchen. PLEASE.”

“i told you dude. should’ve just confessed instead of giving me a headache for the past two months,” seungmin sighs dramatically before pulling your roommate away, “whatever, we’re going out. you guys play nicely.”

and the two are gone as quick as they appeared, leaving you and hyunjin alone in the apartment. no one says anything for a while but you don’t care. all you wanted to do was hide in a hole forever after being caught by your roommate and seungmin.

with a sigh, you decide it’d be best for you to get off the cabinet but hyunjin stops you.

“ah- i’m not done with you yet,” he says sternly, holding you in place, “we have a lot to talk about.”

“talk?”

“yeah like where you want me to take you on our first date.”

“who said i’d date you?” it’s your turn to scoff now, amazed at the boy’s confidence, “you wish hwang.”

“who you trying to fool? you were about to let me fuck you right here in this kitchen babe, so i’m pretty sure you wouldn’t say no to a date.”

“hwang hyunjin!”

“yeah baby, i’m right here.”

end.

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kwanisms · 25 days ago

Text

Kinktober 「10:29」 — c.san

» ateez menu | san menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ werecoyote!San × fem chipmunk hybrid!Reader wc: 2.9k summary: San’s favorite thing about his roommate is that as a hybrid, she triggers his prey drive which makes him want to chase her around their apartment, and even if it’s not her favorite thing ever, she doesn’t mind indulging him. It usually ends with her pinned on the couch or wall before San will playfully nip at her and let her go but this time, it ends with her pinned against his bed, triggering more than just his predator drive. genres/themes/au: fluff, smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female hybrid reader, supernatural and horror themes, MC is scared of San for like a brief moment, mentions of: fear, hiding + seek; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this San was an absolute joy to write and I absolutely adore this couple. I may or may not come back to them in the future but only time will tell! Only two more parts in the original line up after this and they're both Seventeen! This has been a wild ride from start to finish and I'm sad to see this come to a close but excited to move onto new things! The days that have been skipped will be added on at the very end (Mingyu, Woosung, Hongjoong, Wooyoung, Jisung, & Christian) so please stick around for those! If you'd like to see what I've got planned for the holidays and rest of the year, please stay tuned for the final parts of Kinktober! Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), predator/prey dynamics, hybrid!Reader, oral (f receiving), biting (f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do this pls), use of pet names (hers: little squirrel, baby; his: Sannie), and that's all of them! If I missed any, please let me know and I'll fix it! kinks: predator/prey + hybrids dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Why are you shaking? You’re not scared of me are you? ❜❜

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“Come out, Y/N,” San called, his voice low and full of excitement as he stalked through the house, keeping his eyes open and listening for even the slightest movement. He stopped, turning slowly on the spot as his eyes swept the hall. He raised his head, taking a few sniffs, the smell of your sweet scent mixed with the stench of fear permeating the air.

He followed the smell, moving slowly and cautiously while listening for any movement or any sound.

This had become the new norm, coming home from a stressful day at work to the house you shared together and spending the weekend playing this little game of hide and seek. It helped him with his insane predator drive.

Most of his friends had said it was a bad idea, moving into a house with a chipmunk hybrid but you and San had been best friends since you were kids despite your differences. San would never hurt you. You were far too precious to him. He just liked to chase you around and hunt you down to let the predator drive out of his system so he could enjoy the rest of the weekend and spend the week not worrying about it. As he moved, keeping his steps as light as possible, he passed the door to the laundry room where he was hit with a sudden blast of your scent. San hesitated, turning towards the open door. He cautiously leaned in, peering into the room. He stepped in, checking every hiding place he could think of.

As he was searching under the counter in the hamper, a creak overhead caught his attention. A grin spread over his face as he exited the laundry room, darting down the hall and climbing the steps as quietly as possible. Your scent was even stronger up here and he was certain you were hiding somewhere on the second floor.

It was only a matter of time before he found you.

Your tail twitched nervously as you hid in the darkness of your closet, hiding deep in the corner behind clothes hanging and your hamper. You’d taken a few blankets and pillows off the top shelf and stacked them in front of the hamper and sat down in the small area between the wall and the hamper.

It was a good hiding spot, one you’d never used before so you hoped San would have a harder time finding you, especially after purposely leaving your scent all over the house.

Initially, you had taken cover under your bed when you had gotten his text that he was on his way home from work. You worked from home so it wasn’t an issue. You quickly went around the house, peeling off your clothes and leaving them in random places like the laundry room, the garage, the pantry, his room, the office, and even the closet downstairs by the front door.

You’d raced upstairs, pulled on clean clothes and scurried under the bed, leaving your phone on silent, turning off the vibration and turning down the brightness. Your bed had one of those frilly bed skirts that hid the underside of your bed and you from view.

You stayed there for at least an hour before you heard the front door open and San’s voice calling out, announcing his arrival. Not that he expected you to answer. He knew you were already hiding and ready to run at any given moment. He had a method to his search with this game you played. He always started in the garage. Not that there were many places to hide but he still took his time searching thoroughly before moving onto the basement which was only accessible from the garage.

If you had wanted to change hiding spaces. This is where you would have done it. But as you contemplated, you ran out of time and heard him exit the garage entirely, shutting the door behind him. You could hear him move through the house, no doubt following the scent of your expertly placed bait in the form of flinging your clothes into random rooms.

You heard him call out again, telling you to come out but you knew that he knew you weren’t going to do anything of the sort. No, he needed to find you. That was the point of this game. You decided the bed was no longer a good hiding spot and considered leaving your room entirely but as you made your way to the door, the floorboard creaked and you cursed mentally.

You knew San would have heard it and immediately made for your closet which was where you were currently sitting as he climbed the stairs. Despite being as quiet as possible, you could still hear the wood give under his weight. After hearing his steps carry him past the office and his room, you heard the door to your room creak open and San slowly entered the room.

“You’re in here, aren’t you little squirrel?” he whispered, a tone of excitement in his voice. You stayed quiet as he neared the closet, sniffing before he threw the doors open. “Are you in here?” he whispered, starting to move your clothes aside but somehow he missed you cowering behind the hamper as he pulled back and shut the doors.

“Or are you under the bed?”

As he made his way to the bed, you quietly and carefully moved from behind the hamper, making sure not to make a sound as he neared your bed. You watched through the slats of the closet doors as he slowly knelt down beside your bed. “The scent is strong here,” he murmured as he reached a hand down to grab the edge of the ruffled bed skirt.

You quietly turned the knob of the closet door, making sure to keep quiet as he leaned down to peer under the bed. Once he was part of the way under your bed, you threw open the closet door and bolted for the door with a squeak. San let out a whoop and gave chase but you were took quick, darting into his room and sliding under the bed.

San followed you into the room and as he dove for the bed, you scrambled out from under it as he tumbled over the opposite side of the bed as you made a break for the door. San was hot on your tail as you tried to take the turn to head down the hall for the stairs. He tried to catch you but you ducked, slipping from his grip as you doubled back for your room as he tried to scramble to his feet.

You made it to your room but before you could find a hiding place, San tackled you onto your bed, laughing as you tried to wriggle free. “Not this time, little squirrel,” he said as he wrestled with you. Your ears flattened back against your head as you tried to free yourself from his iron grip.

“I’ll bite you!” you threatened, your voice coming out as a squeak. San laughed as he overpowered you easily, pinning you down against your mattress as he held your wrists on either side of your head. “So feisty today,” San said as he stared down at you, that familiar excitement in his eyes as you tried to squirm out from under him.

The two of you stared at one another, your ears flattened against your hair. San tilted his head, a wolfish grin appearing on his face in place of the smile that had been there before. “You’re shaking,” he noted, moving his hands up to yours, lacing his fingers with yours but keeping them pinned against the bed. “Why are you shaking?” he whispered as he leaned closer. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

You said nothing but he chuckled, knowing he was right. On a normal day, San was anything but scary but during these moments, when he had you pinned with that excited look in his eye, your subconscious couldn’t tell what was real and what was pretend. For a brief moment, you truly were scared. San leaned down, using his weight to hold you down.

“San,” you whined as he pressed his nose against the skin under the shell of your ear, inhaling deeply. You felt him nip at your neck, his teeth grazing over your pulse point. The feeling of his lips against your skin and his weight on top of you had an unintended side effect and as he moved, his groin brushed against your cloth covered sex and you let out a moan.

The atmosphere changed in an instant, almost like with the snap of your fingers. San lifted his head, eyes meeting yours. In addition to the excitement, there was curiosity, confusion, and what you could only assume arousal. “Y/N,” he started, his voice soft as you stared up at him, cheeks burning in embarrassment, heat pooling in the pit of your stomach as your shorts started to grow damp.

“Are you… turned on right now?” he asked. Before you could answer him and try to deny it, his pupils widened as he sniffed the air. “Oh,” he finally said, chuckling darkly. “You are,” he confirmed as the scent of sexual arousal started to fill the room. “Sweet little squirrel,” he murmured as he moved your hands above your head, holding your wrists with one hand as the other moved to cup your cheek.

“Likes it when I hunt her down? When I chase her? When I overpower and pin her down?” he asked, his thumb moving to brush over your bottom lip. “Why did you tell me sooner?” he asked as his eyes dipped down to look at your lips. “We could have implemented a new part to this game.”

“Wh-what part?” you asked, stuttering over your words as his hand slid down the side of your neck. “Had I known, I could have spent more time teasing you after catching you instead of immediately letting you go,” he continued, his eyes widening suddenly as he came to a realization you were about to hear.

“Is that why you always insisted on taking a shower afterwards?” he asked, chuckling as he leaned closer, his lips mere inches from yours. “Needed time to rub one out before you could face me again? Wash yourself off so I wouldn’t smell how much I affected you? And all this time, I thought it was just the smell of fear coming off you. Never would have expected it to be the scent of lust, too.”

You let out a whine, staring up at him and trying to free your hands. His grip tightened. San’s lips ghosted over yours. “I just need you to answer one thing,” he whispered, his breath hot against your face. “Do you want me to stop?”

You stared up at him, your heart beating against your chest. That was a good question. Did you want him to stop? After all, San was your housemate and your oldest friend, not your boyfriend. You lived together. If you said yes, you didn’t know how to come back from this. You weren’t sure if you could ever partake in this game of his ever again but If you said no, then everything would change between you. So you asked yourself again; did you want him to stop?

You shook your head. “Absolutely not,” you whispered, eyes flickering between his. “Don’t you dare stop Choi San.” With your permission to continue, San let out a relieved groan, capturing your lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss as he released your wrists, moving his hands to the sides of your neck as he parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, groaning at the taste.

You let out a whimper as you felt him rut against you, grinding against your cloth covered core. “Mmmfmmh,” San mumbled against your lips and you moved your hand to his chest. “What?” you asked incredulously. “I said do that again,” he whispered as his hands moved down to your hips, pulling you against him as he grinded against you again.

You let out a moan, head falling back against the mattress. San leaned over, pressing kisses down the side of your neck to your exposed collar. “Can I take this off?” he asked, fingers skimming the lacy hem of your tank top. You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he sat back, hands sliding up your sides. He pushed the fabric up until he could tug it off, tossing it aside and leaving you half naked under him.

You hadn’t had time to put on a bra or bralette when you dressed in haste earlier and now you felt extremely exposed under his heated gaze, moving your hands to cover yourself out of instinct but San grabbed your wrists and pulled them away. “Don’t,” he said simply, giving you a pointed look.

“Don’t you dare hide yourself from me,” he added as he leaned over pressing a kiss to your collar, leaving a trail of scorched skin as he kissed his way down your chest, stopping to take one of your pet nipples in his mouth, the tip of his tongue swirling around the nub before he sucked lightly.

You let out a gasp as you felt his teeth lightly graze the sensitive flesh, your fingers tangling in his hair as you guided one of his hands up to your neglected breast. He cupped the mound, kneading gently as he teased your nipple, drawing soft moans and whimpers from you.

He pulled back, dragging his tongue over your skin before he glanced up at you, giving you a grin and a wink before he continued kissing down your stomach until he settled between your thighs. He met your gaze, kissing over your thin shorts. “No panties?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t have time to put them on,” you whined, cheeks burning in embarrassment once more.

You heard San chuckle before you felt his tongue press against you over the fabric. “I’m just teasing you, baby,” he murmured as his hands moved to your hips, fingers curling under the elastic of your shorts and starting to pull them down. You lifted your hips as he slid them off, leaving you truly bare and exposed to him, the cool air of your room hitting your throbbing heat.

San licked his lips as he settled back down, eyeing your glistening cunt as he spread your folds. “You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about this,” he said in a low voice as his tongue slipped out, licking a wide strip up your sex before he licked his lips once more. “Tastes better than you smell. Almost sweet,” he added.

You tried to respond but your words died in your throat, replaced with a moan as you felt his lips wrap around your clit, the tip of his tongue teasing it as he threw himself into it. Your cheeks and neck were burning from embarrassment from the sounds he was making. Groans and grunts as well as lewd slurping sounds came from him as he ate you out like he was starving.

Your thighs tried to close around his head as he drove you closer and closer to orgasm but he held them open, giving your clit a few more slow licks as he looked up to meet your gaze through heavy lidded eyes. “Saaaaan,” you whine, head falling back. He chuckled, his breath hot against your sex. “You’re so cute when you whine,” he said as he pulled away, kissing up your stomach and between your breasts before taking you in a searing kiss.

You tasted yourself on his tongue as his hands moved to your hips. “Roll over for me.” he whispered against your lips. You did as he asked as he pulled back, peeling his own clothes off until he was just as naked. He reached over you, grabbing one of your pillows and folding it in half. “Lift your hips for me, little squirrel,” he said. You did as he said, lifting your hips so he could slip the pillow under your stomach.

You rested against it, your ass propped up as he moved behind you, spreading your legs with his knees. “You sure about this?” he asked as he took his cock in his hand, giving it a few strokes and spreading the precum that gathered at the tip as you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed. “Please Sannie,” you added, wiggling your hips, your tail swishing out of the way.

San guided the head of his cock to your slit, brushing the tip against your sex, gathering the wetness that was basically dripping out of you before pushing into you. “Oh fuck,” he hissed as your walls sucked him in, guiding him deeper until he bottomed out. “S-Sannie,” you whimpered into the sheets, fingers curling into the material as your cunt stretched around his cock.

“You okay, baby?” San asked, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin. You nodded silently, licking your dry lips. “I need to hear you say it, little squirrel,” San said, squeezing your hips. “Yes,” you answered immediately. “I’m okay. F-feels so good,” you gasped as you felt him start to pull out. He gave you a hard thrust, hips snapping forward and his skin hitting yours, making you cry out.

“That hurt?” he asked, stroking your skin gently. You shook your head. “N-no,” you replied. “Feel good, Sannie. Just surprised me, that’s all.” San leaned over, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Good,” he murmured, giving you another harsh thrust and quickly setting a rough and relentless pace as he rocked into you, his cock repeatedly hitting your sweet spot over and over.

“Cause we have a long night ahead of us, little squirrel.”

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