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witherby · 1 day ago

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Part 7 of mer!reader?🫣🫣🫣

Of course! I think it's time to get you and Damian back together.

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader Part 7

Masterlist with all parts Here!

Content features upsetting Mer behavior and unsafe diving practices. Wear your protective gear, people!

It takes another month for your routine to settle back into a semblance of normalcy. The specialists Bruce told Damian about had spent three days observing your behaviors and drew up a detailed care plan to help you recover as best as you could, which the facility follows with great enthusiasm.

You wake up and swim to the entrance of the tank to receive breakfast from Jon. Afterwards, he and Clark gently roll you out of the tank to apply weird-smelling salves to the patches on your tail, encouraging it to heal correctly and for new scales to grow. You sit and wait for the salve to absorb, then you get back into the water to play a little, and then it's Attention Time.

You swim all the way to the bottom floor of your tank, where visitors come admire you through the tunnels under your tank for several hours. Sometimes you have the energy to do a trick or two.

Then, it's back up to the top of the tank for dinner, more playtime, and then you get to sleep until tomorrow where you do it all again.

But the lethargy remains. The stinging, empty space in your chest only seems to grow the more you see Damian dispassionately leading tours and refusing to look at you. Of all the people that come to admire you, the one person whose attention you actually want, you cannot get.

Jon, bless him, is trying so hard to keep you happy. He talks to you every day, he gives you tons of treats, he swims with you as long as you want him to, and he's given you so many new toys that they've overtaken your cute rock collection. His effort is why you're doing your best to hide how bad you still feel.

And his company does help! It does. You can comfortably call him a friend, and mean it. But you are so tired. You miss Damian so much. You feel drained, and the urge to remain inside your little hideout gets stronger every passing day.

Every night, in the comforting darkness of your castle spire, the old bricks pressing against your body and shielding you from the rest of the world, you allow your thoughts to drift back to the boy with beautiful, emerald eyes without fail.

You think of the first time you met him, and how he looked at you as just another dumb animal in the aquarium for him to care for. You think of the first time you made him realize you were so much more — how you'd done every trick he commanded with such attitude and even mocked him back that he actually cracked a smile. You think of the first time you pulled him into the water to show him your favorite parts of your habitat, and then how he reassured you it was fine that you almost drowned him by accident because he knew you hadn't meant to. You think of all the times he snuck in after hours to spend just a little more time with you, to play just one more game, to ensure you didn't feel like another part of his job he had to do but someone he genuinely looked forward to seeing.

You think of the pretty blush on his face when you mustered the courage to give him your scales.

You think of all the gifts you left him afterwards, and how you didn't get any back.

You think of his dispassionate expression as he leads another group of visitors into your enclosure, day after day after day.

Your chest burns. You weep into the water and succumb to fitful slumber.

"I need a dive team to the Mer tank please! Right now!"

Damian furrows his brow, momentarily pausing his work. He's in the dolphin exhibit currently hand-feeding them when the announcement comes over the speaker system. He wonders what you're doing to have freaked Jon out, but it's not his place to care anymore, so he tries to push the curiosity from his mind and refocus on his task.

One dolphin in particular is pretty bad about taking food from a handler. It's also just food aggressive in general, bullying its pod-mates out of the way to get to the food first. Damian can't help but compare how much smarter you are to these animals. He sighs.

"Doctor Kent to the Mer exhibit!"

Hmm. Did you breach your tank again? Or maybe you bumped your body against the spire you like to sleep inside. Damian tried to tell his father that the rough brick texture could hurt your more vulnerable top half if not careful, but Bruce was certain you'd be alright. He wonders what kind of fuss you're kicking up today, if it's a real issue or if Jon hasn't been around you long enough to realize that sometimes you fake a problem because it's funny.

"All divers to the Mer exhibit please!"

Tim rushes through the door into the dolphin exhibit, startling Damian into dropping the bucket. He quickly backs up with a gasp as the dolphins swarm to the food and start gobbling it up. He faces Tim with a glare.

"Does nobody know how to follow protocol anymore? You're supposed to knock before you —"

"You need to get upstairs," Tim says, holding up an access key to your enclosure, "like right now. Vitals on our mer are really bad, we can't extract them from the spire and —"

Damian doesn't stick around to hear him finish that sentence. He snatches the key and sprints through the aquarium like the devil's on his fucking heels. His heart is racing and not from the exertion. He forgoes the elevator and starts rushing up the stairs three at a time, climbing floor by floor by floor to get to you as fast as he can.

It was a real emergency, then? What had happened? Jon was supposed to be taking care of you now. You were supposed to be recovering. You were supposed to be happier without him, now.

What was wrong with you?

There's no time to head into the locker room and get a wetsuit on. He jams the key into the exhibit door and throws it open, rushing into the room with single-minded focus.

Jon is in a wetsuit and treading water, relaying information to his dad with a worried frown. Clark is kneeling next to the tank and giving him instructions on how to get you to the surface. Dick is sitting on the lip of the tank and wiggling into a suit of his own, very unfamiliar with the gear as he doesn't dive with Mers. Bruce is on the phone and standing by Clark, looking more and more concerned as the situation develops.

When Damian bursts in, Dick startles and looks up at him, fumbling with the clasp on his flipper.

"Dami, go ahead and get a suit on. We need you to — DAMIAN!"

He doesn't think. Doesn't stop to listen to whatever Clark's rambling on about. Doesn't wait for permission before he kicks his shoes off, takes a running start, and dives into the tank in his plainclothes. He pedals his arms and kicks his feet as hard as he can and goes down, down, down, deeper into your vast tank and towards your favorite resting place. The effort is tremendous without the slim, hydrodynamic suit to aid him and a rebreather to allow him to stay down here for long periods of time. He pushes past it all and keeps going. You are in trouble and he is going to help you.

When he makes it to the spire and swims around to the entrance, he immediately sees the issue. Your body is curled into the mer version of fetal position; your arms are locked around your waist in an embrace and your tail is coiled underneath you in a tight spiral, twisted around itself and wedging you deeply into the cramped space. The angle of your body, coupled with the tight spacing of the hideaway, make it nearly impossible to pull you out.

In the wild, a mer found in this position is an almost universal signifier that they are near death.

If there's no intervention, you are going to die today.

Damian climbs into the spire with you, squeezing his body inside with a low grunt. A burst of bubbles escape from his mouth. If he can't pull you out — a dangerous move which would damage your tail and break your fins if they tried — he has to unfold you.

His back scrapes against the bricks and pain rockets down his spine. Another bunch of bubbles fly out. He grits his teeth and starts carefully pushing at you, gingerly moving your upper half, then your lower half, around and around and around to create enough space to safely push you free.

His chest is heaving. Damian is exhausted and quickly running out of breath. He cannot stop. If he stops, you won't make it.

He jerks when something jabs his ankle, arms wrapping protectively around you as his head snaps down to see what happened.

Jon is hovering just by the spire opening, holding a rebreather in his hand and shaking it insistently at him.

Damian reaches around you and makes a few grabs at it, finally curling his fingers around the device and pushing it into his mouth. He clicks the button to turn it on and almost coughs when oxygen starts to flow into his lungs. He slumps against you briefly, taking in your closed eyes and face twisted into agony.

What happened, he thinks. How did this happen to you, Princess?

His ankle is jabbed again. Damian looks back at Jon, who has his hands out in an offer of help. Damian gently starts to maneuver you around again, slowly but steadily unfolding your body, and when Jon catches on, helps do the same thing from your opposite side.

It is painstaking work. Dick eventually gets into the water to join in, but there's no room for him, so he hovers to the side ready to help carry your body to the surface when you're finally free.

It feels like it takes hours, but can't be more than twenty minutes. Twenty minutes too long in Damian's opinion. Eventually, your body is unwound enough to ease you out of the spire without injury, and the three men rush you to the surface where Clark and four other vets are waiting to take you. It becomes a flurry of activity after that.

Damian spits out the rebreather when his feet are back on solid ground. He pants and doubles over, limbs shaking from exertion, and watches the medical team assess your condition and fret over you. You're loaded onto a special stretcher and whisked from the room, and he's about to follow suit when a hand clasps over his wrist.

"No," he rasps, already gearing up the breath to scream at his father, but Bruce just shakes his head and presses a towel into his hands.

"Here," he says, voice soft and knowing. "Here, Tadpole. I just want you to get dry before you follow them into the medical bay. You can't help anybody if you get sick."

Damian clutches it, staring at his father with no small amount of trepidation. Bruce just sighs.

"I'm sorry, Damian. I am. We'll talk about it later, but I won't separate you two again. You have my word." He jerks his head toward the doors. "Go dry off and change in the locker room. I'll call Medical and tell them to let you in when you're done."

Damian throws his arms around Bruce, uncaring about how he's soaking his dad. Evidently Bruce doesn't care either, if the fierceness in which he hugs him back is any indication.

"Thank you," Damian whispers, then pulls away to head to the lockers.

#mermaid au #damian x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam x reader #damian wayne

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astronnova · 2 days ago

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trying to figure out how i would wanna draw both of them inbtwn working on shtuff

ramblings under the cut

ok *cracks knuckles* excuse my design ramblings

vlad & danny are such interesting parallels to me esp if u wanna play more into the horror aspect of the show. vlad to me is the kind of horror vampires bring, they're attractive and alluring with large spiked gothic mansions as they suck you dry before you even register what happened.

danny is more like... small town radioactive horror? to me? does that make sense??? the horror of feeling, of knowing something is wrong with one of your classmates in your small, middle of bumfuck nowhere town. you know something is up, but he's still here walking around like always.

unfortunately my style is basically rip off anime LMFAO and i've never been good at communicating horror (falls to my knees and cries) but phantom could be so creepy and eerie. a seemingly teen boy in a hazmat suit, with a gas mask and/or goggles, wandering the streets at night, floating over streetlamps and making them and traffic lights buzz on and off. also electric core danny. he died to electrocution his ass is electric i do not Care what the show says, frost core danny can eat my ass🖕 (sorry to the frost danny likers. i do have an idea for the frost core thou)

my friend gave me the idea of making vlad snake-like too to match danny as a badger, snakes and badgers are natural enemies and all that. plus i didnt realize until after i drew it but vlad's hair and cape give him the silhouette around the head of a cobra! so i gave vlad cobra stripes on his ghost tail

i really like the idea of vlad kind of representing what danny could be. he represents the allure of power and letting go of your humanity i guess. he's petty, selfish, and has definitely murdered a couple people just because he felt like it. i know there are bones in the walls of his manor i just Know it. which i feel could be a fun way to rethink danny's first interaction with plasmius proper, maybe danny figures out who some wisconsin serial killer is with the added bonus of finding bones and rotting clothes in the walls of the basement because. ghost powers. and only another ghost could hide a body that way. ya feel me? its cool. kinda just rambling atp

i played around with giving danny a full face gas mask but i didnt like them too much. the goggles im on the fence about, i wanted them to be the same round goofy goggles maddie and jack wear but it takes away from the potential creep factor i feel... or maybe i just dont know how to draw it creepy (yet). he doesn't need the gas mask as a ghost but it would help hide his face i think. thats one thing, im watching eps with some friends who arent really into the show like i am and they keep asking how tf does no one know its danny and i just have to gently put my hand on their shoulder and tell them its cartoon logic. but for this! i feel like danny's face would be harder to see, like he's usually engaged in combat and when he's not he still has that gas mask and goggles combo, and its not like his hair looks the same like it does in canon.

ok crazy people ramblings OVER

#🧻 sharts #guess ill die (danphantom)#danny phantom #vlad plasmius #vlad masters #danny fenton #sorry theres no ellie. i really do like ellie but i havent had time to doodle my ideas for her yet. but im cooking ... trust #one thing i feel split about is how in canon vlad bounces back and forth from being a menacing powerful 'you but better' kind of villain an #being a useless doof that keeps screwing things up for danny to fix. like both are fun character archetypes but i feel like vlad just would #work better as the first insteafd of the second. i love goofy villain screw ups but leave that to doofenshmirtz #i do appreciate the fact vlad is a mad scientist frankenstein that has also become his own monster. but now he's found another monster to #share that misery with. danny wants no part of this

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jjscrybaby · 3 days ago

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A request for JJ!!

I was thinking something kinda angst. So JJ hates the reader and she hates him. They both think each other has a great life and is jealous. But maybe one day on her usual bike ride around the cut, y/n sees JJ’s dad get aggressive with him and realises how JJ’s life is hard. But she doesn’t go to help because she was scared. Feeling bad that she didn’t help she wonders around and she goes home late which results in an argument with her mom. At that time JJ was doing a delivery with Pope and hears and sees everything and when y/n is outside walking around trying to calm herself down and distract from the pain she accidentally bumps into JJ and they have a talk.

jj maybank x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (luke maybank being an ass, reader’s mom is also an ass, overall just bad parents!)

not proofread and written at 6am so my bad if there’s any mistakes 🤗

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One of the main differences between you and JJ were your social status’. JJ came from the Cut, he grew up catching his own food, roaming the streets at the age of seven without a care in the world, stealing just to get by. You grew up on Figure Eight, you never had to lift a finger, your parents never had to worry about where their next pay check was coming from. He was jealous.

JJ grew up with freedom, with a group of friends he called his family, he never had to worry about grades or being perfect because no one cared if he was. You grew up with snobby rich kids as the only people you could hang out with, your mom dictated everything you did down to the clothes you’d wear to the mall, you felt embarrassed to even leave the house if your hair was slightly greasy. You were jealous.

You’d known JJ Maybank since you were a kid, you went to the same Elementary school and then over the years you’d see each other at parties or at the club where he worked. There wasn’t ever something that happened that gave you both a reason to hate the other, you just did.

Something your parents were definitely not aware of was the route you’d take on your weekly bike ride. You needed an escape from the ‘perfect’ life, so at least once a week you’d take your little pink bicycle and you’d ride around the Cut. You weren’t sure what it was that drew you to it in the first place, especially after the horror stories you’d grown up hearing, but you always felt calm when you rode around with your AirPods in.

It was about six o’clock, you were supposed to be home for dinner in an hour because your father had some clients coming over and you were wanted as well. You were about to head back home when the sound of yelling caught your attention. You turned round the corner, standing still at the end of the street.

“You smell like a damn bar!” It was JJ. You didn’t know he lived here, but then again why would you? You weren’t friends. There was an older man stumbling after him, following the blonde down the porch steps.

“Ain’t that rich comin’ from you?” The man, who you assumed was non other than Luke Maybank, snorted.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” JJ scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to look at his dad.

“Means you ain’t better than me, kid. It’s in your blood, you’re a Maybank,” Luke mocked.

You could see JJ shake his head, a scowl on his face that was hiding the hurt he felt. “I’m nothin’ like you. And I never will be.”

“Say whatever you want, don’t make it true,” Luke shrugged, taking a sip from the beer that you hadn’t noticed was in his hand. “Where the fuck you goin’, anyways? Ain’t been home in weeks.”

Weeks? You had heard the stories about Luke, the robberies and the bar fights, but you didn’t think he’d treat his own son like this. He spoke to him as if he was a stranger, as if he couldn’t care less about him.

“Yeah, and I shouldn’t have bothered coming back at all,” JJ stated, turning to continue walking away. Luke grabbed his arm, yanking him back and holding him in place. “Get the fuck off me, man!”

“Gotta show some respect, Jay!” Luke yelled, making you flinch.

Why were the neighbours not coming out? Why hadn’t anyone done something about this? You felt sick, and you felt even worse when you got on your bike and rode away before you had to see how this ended.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“You alright?” JJ hated that question, especially when he knew why it was being asked. The shiner that he sported now. Pope looked at him sympathetically, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m fine. Ready to get some good tips,” JJ shrugged, taking the grocery bags from his hands. “Who orders food at eight o’clock?”

“Rich people,” Pope muttered. “Don’t lose any of that shit.“

“Yeah, yeah.”

JJ walked to your house, he knew it was yours from the last name above the slip of paper Pope had given him. He was starting to walk up the driveway when he heard the noise coming from the open front door.

“I told you to be here by seven! It’s half past!” Your mother exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air.

“I— I got held up, I’m sorry.” He’d never heard you sound so small. Usually, when the two of you got at each other’s throats at a Kegger, you’d stand your ground without a care in the world. It was one of the only things he respected about you.

“Held up with what?” Your mom scoffed. He could see through the cracks in the bushes that she was shaking her head, looking disappointed.

“It’s just dinner, mom. I don’t need to be here,” you tried to argue.

“Well, I’ve already told the Henderson’s that you aren’t home. So, therefore, you will not be home. Don’t come back until they’re gone,” she stated.

“What? Mom. I haven’t got anywhere to go,” you exclaimed, voice wavering.

The door closed in your face and you let out a shaky sigh. You’d been preoccupied, feeling guilty for not sticking up for JJ, so you’d gotten home a little later than planned. Was it really that big of a deal? Tears fell as you wandered back down your driveway, trying to think of where the hell you can go.

“Uh, hey.” You flinched in shock, turning to see JJ lurking by the bushes with two grocery bags.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked quietly.

“Delivery,” he explained.

“Right, well, I can’t take it,” you muttered. “Just go knock.”

“Wait there.” You weren’t sure why you did what he said, but it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. You stood and waited, watching as he left the bags on your front door step and knocked before coming back; he didn’t even wait for a tip. “C’mon.”

The two of you walked through Figure Eight in silence, him puffing on his vape every now and then whilst you tried not to burst into tears. “I saw you and your dad, earlier.”

“What?” He turned to look at you in confusion.

“Outside your house.”

“Why were you outside my house?” He asked.

“I wasn’t, I just happened to be going past,” you explained. You bit your nails before speaking again, letting out a quiet sigh. “He’s an ass.”

Surprisingly, JJ let out a chuckle. He nodded his head. “Yeah, he is. So is your mom.” You giggled, agreeing with him. “Guess we both have shitty parents, huh?”

“Seems like it,” you shrugged. “Never thought we’d have something in common.”

“You know, my friend, John B, his house is sorta the hangout for kids with shitty parents. Did you want to… you could come over, until you can go back home,” JJ offered. He sounded anxious, as if he was asking you on a date.

You found yourself nodding your head, shyly smiling at him. “Yeah, just until I can go back home.”

You didn’t go home, instead you spent the night chatting shit about your mom with JJ whilst he rambled about his dad. You ended the night in his bed, laid on his chest as the two of you shared a joint. You didn’t feel so jealous anymore, and you were certain he didn’t either.

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank prompt #jj mayback imagine

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whizzing-fizzbee · 17 hours ago

Text

Show Me What Love Is

(Sequel to "This Is How It Starts")

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Female MC)

Rating: Explicit 18+, MDNI (shameless smut, profanity) Words: 7,356 Themes: friends to lovers, shameless smut, fluff and smut

Summary: In the weeks after your breakup with Andrew Larson, you and Sebastian Sallow waste no time making up for lost time. But it's impossible to study for your N.E.W.T.s when you can't keep your hands off each other.

Notes: I had so much fun writing "This Is How It Starts," I needed to write a continuation. Just more shameless smut. Loosely inspired by "Happiness" by The 1975.

I promise to ease up on the shameless smutty one-shots and focus on my chapter fics now. I'm probably lying.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

“I heard she dumped Larson because he’s a virgin.”

“No, I heard it was because he didn’t quite… measure up to Sallow, if you know what I mean.”

“Wait, I thought she was hooking up with Gaunt now.”

A snort escaped before you could suppress it. If the rumors hadn’t been so ridiculous, you may have found them insufferable. Instead, you and Sebastian Sallow were currently cozied up in a secluded corner of the library, where you – and your classmates – were supposed to be studying.

Sebastian clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter as he fought to conceal his own. He had you pinned against the bookshelves, his body pressing yours against the rows of wood and bound pages as you struggled to remain quiet. Shielded by bookshelves, the two of you had decided to postpone your study session for a quick snog.

It had been two weeks since your breakup with Andrew Larson, and the Hogwarts rumor mill was still churning. Given that you didn’t hide your new romance with Sebastian, whispers spread like wildfire through the castle walls. And while you weren’t particularly happy about them, you didn’t really care.

Because for the first time in months, you were satisfied. My god were you satisfied.

You and Sebastian had wasted no time making up for lost time. Your relationship with him fulfilled you in ways Andrew couldn’t have even considered, physically and emotionally.

Despite all the sex you and Sebastian were having, your bond had strengthened and you found yourselves falling easily into the routine of a seasoned couple. Sure, the early stages of any romance were always more fiery, more passionate, more electrifying, but the two of you seemed to have cemented yourselves in each other’s hearts for the long run.

With both of your feelings out and in the open, there were no more secrets or unspoken words. You and Sebastian were simpatico; two people who were content in simply spending time together – though most of that time was spent in various states of undress, engaged in salacious activities.

As your giggles subsided, Sebastian smirked, dipping his head to kiss your neck. He smelled like the cinnamon you’d watched him sprinkle in his tea that morning. The sensation of his lips pressed against your skin drew a moan from your lips.

You froze, your wide-eyed gaze shifting sideways toward the end of the aisle as you and Sebastian held your breaths. When no one seemed to have overheard your indiscretion, Sebastian shot you an amused smirk.

“You’re going to have to learn to be much quieter if we’re going to stay here,” he murmured.

“It’s not my fault!” you hissed. “You know my neck is a sensitive spot.”

“Precisely why I did it.”

“You’re cruel.”

“You’re not complaining.”

“I’ll burn your house down.”

Sebastian breathed a soft chuckle. “No need for such violence,” he hummed before he pecked an affectionate kiss to your forehead. “Besides, it’ll be your house too someday.”

Sebastian spoke of your future with such certainty, it was both thrilling and dizzying. You had no doubt he was the only person you’d ever want to spend your life with. You knew that long before the first time he touched you or told you he loved you. The two of you had far too much history, and now that you knew one another sexually, you had ruined your futures with anyone else for life.

Now, Sebastian referred to himself as “We” – as in the two of you, a couple. His plans for graduation, your careers, your home, were your plans now. His future was your future and he wasn’t shy about letting others know.

But you still had three weeks remaining as Hogwarts students. Your N.E.W.T.s were set to begin the following day, which was the only reason you were standing in the library instead of romping around in bed like you’d done the previous night.

You knew your romance with Sebastian wouldn’t be perfect forever. Neither of you were perfect, and you certainly didn’t expect your relationship to remain that way. Sebastian could be impulsive, stubborn and downright stupid when it came to making decisions. You were snarky, ambitious and strong-willed. Your past friendship together was all the proof you needed that the two of you would inevitably have fights and shouting matches. But it was also proof that the two of you could overcome anything – especially if it meant the make-up sex would make it all worthwhile.

Yet as satisfied as you were, you were still insatiable. You couldn’t get enough of Sebastian, even though he’d been your best friend for nearly three years. But you were his girlfriend now, and that made you see him in an entirely different light.

You were his first real girlfriend. He’d never bothered to craft much connection or meaning to any of the girls he’d hooked up with in the past. You had always chalked it up to his short attention span and impulsive ways. You hadn’t known it was because he’d been waiting for you.

Today though, he was clearly tired of waiting. You’d spent the morning with your noses buried in books, seated at one of the long tables at the center of the library, until you felt Sebastian’s attention vacate his Astronomy notes. His stare fell on you; the way you softly sighed while you contemplated the spell theories in your book; the way you subconsciously chewed your bottom lip as you scribbled in your notes; the way the hem of your skirt creeped upward when you crossed your legs.

He looked at you like you were the last piece of dessert he’d ever get to consume. He’d always looked at you like that, but you failed to notice until now. Only recently had you come to learn just how much power you held over Sebastian Sallow.

Now, you’d seen the way he whimpers at your touch; the way he grits his teeth and clenches his fists whenever you climax around him; the way his chest heaves when he watches you undress. But you also had seen the way he beams when he makes you laugh with a lewd joke; the way he always pours your morning tea before his own; the way he lets you steal all the blankets and covers at night, only to smile at you with sleepy eyes the following morning. You’d ruined Sebastian Sallow far more than either of you thought possible.

But now Sebastian had you pressed against those bookshelves, his hips guarding you from daring to move. He stood with one foot between yours as he leaned into a deep, slow kiss, the top of his thigh pressing against the apex of your thighs. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, tightening with impatience.

“Careful, darling,” he murmured. “You’ve already ruined two of my shirts.”

“I’ll ruin your life if you don’t fuck me already.”

He didn’t bother to bury his laugh this time. It erupted from his throat and echoed through the aisle, sure to draw attention this time. The two of you swapped a glance and Sebastian shrugged. He brandished his wand from his back pocket as he held your gaze, and with a fluid wave, cast a Disillusionment charm.

You quickly did the same, disappearing against the rows of books such as Sophronia Franklin came curiously wandering into the aisle. Once she was gone, you caught the glimmer of Sebastian’s outline moving toward the Restricted Section. You followed him quietly through the gate and down the stairs, a route you could navigate with your eyes closed after three years of illicit exploits.

Once you reached the storage room at the bottom, you and Sebastian shed your charms and hurried toward a desk that had been shoved against a wall. Without a word, you backed Sebastian into the desk and clung to his shoulders as you kissed him. His hands snapped to your waist, the melt of your curves triggering his arousal.

He groaned as you stepped closer, your hip pressing against his front to facilitate his erection. You were certain you’d never grow tired of the power you felt every time you made Sebastian’s best asset stand at attention.

You palmed his erection over his pants, dragging your fingers across his hard length. He hummed at the friction, his heavy panting exposing his anticipation.

Your hands fumbled with his belt buckle and zipper before you shoved his pants and boxers to the floor in a heap, his cock springing from their confines. You took it in one hand, your fingers circling around the shaft while you swiped a thumb across the tip. Sebastian twitched at the touch.

You watched him with glee, drunk on the way his jaw clenched and breath hitched. It was the most fun you’d had in ages. He couldn’t help but smile at your proud expression, a sign he was also aware of the power held.

“You’re evil, you know that?” he murmured.

“You made me this way.”

You pumped him steadily, his breaths increasing with your pace as he leaned backward against the desk. You tore your gaze from his blissful expression to examine his cock in your hands, the tip glistening with his arousal.

Dropping to a crouch, you guided him into your mouth, your hands gripping the backs of his thighs as you relaxed your jaw. Sebastian balled your hair into his fist as he gazed downward to admire you as you worked.

“I love you so goddamn much,” he growled.

You hummed a reply that sent vibrations around his cock, forcing a groan from him. His tip hit the back of your throat and you squeezed your own thumbs into your palms as you held him there for as long as you could stand it.

When your throat released him, you sucked your cheeks in hard as your lips returned to stroking his shaft. The storage room echoed with the sounds of your sins, punctuated by Sebastian’s grunts and moans. His reactions to your hungry mouth piqued your own arousal, your knees parted as you remained in a squat.

You couldn't help but drop one hand between your own legs, your fingers coating themselves from the pool that had gathered at your entrance. You dipped a finger inside yourself, the warmth of your own core a stark contrast to the cool air of the dark storage room.

You used your own fingers to dig at your ache, though they didn’t feel nearly as good as Sebastian’s. You willed yourself to remain patient as you focused on his pleasure, knowing damn well he’d never fail to return the favor.

You removed your soaked fingers and used that same hand to stroke Sebastian’s cock, the new moisture earning a groan from him. The sight of it all – his cock covered in a cocktail of your arousal and spit – was overwhelming.

He dipped his head backward, his eyes squeezed shut as he tugged your hair tighter. You’d come to learn that as a sign he was losing control.

You replaced your hand with your mouth, the taste of yourself spreading over the flesh of his length as you flattened your tongue against Sebastian’s shaft. It dragged up and over the tip, tracing teasing circles around the head.

Sebastian panted harder, his lungs laboring as he dared to open his eyes again. You met them with your own gaze, your eyes watching him with wonder and lust. The vision of your doe-eyed stare and his cock disappearing into your mouth made him whimper, a sound that made your own core throb.

You flicked your tongue and Sebastian tensed. Your hollowed cheeks began to sting, but you quickened your pace, your nails digging into the backs of his thighs as you relaxed your throat to gurgle around his tip at a frenetic rate.

A sharp, sudden pain seared over your scalp as Sebastian lost control, his fist yanking your hair and his hips thrusting forward as he finished. His climax hit the back of your throat, thick and hot, as your head continued to bob in determination to drain him completely. He grunted as his orgasm subsided, his sensitive cock twitching the remnants of his seed over your tongue.

His cock fell from your mouth as you swallowed, one hand still pressed into the back of his thigh while he caught his breath. Meanwhile, your anticipation seeped from your entrance, soaking through your panties.

You sank to your knees, tired from your performance and aching for your own relief. You glanced upward at Sebastian, who gazed at you affectionately through heavy eyelids. He extended a hand to you to help you to your feet. You rose slowly, the motion crafting more pressure within your core.

Sebastian pulled you into a slow, deliberate kiss. His hand ventured between your thighs as he reveled in the wet warmth surrounding his fingers. He pushed you up onto the desk, your legs dangling from the edge as he stood between them and paused to kiss you again.

“Naughty naughty, you’ll get caughty!”

You gasped at the sudden intrusion as Sebastian spun to look for the source.

“Peeves!”

The poltergeist hovered in the doorway, laughing as he took in the scene. You straightened and slid off the desk, smoothing your clothes in an attempt to salvage some dignity while Sebastian hurriedly pulled his pants up.

“Wicked little seventh years, how shameful you are!” Peeves declared, though his eyes appeared to be laughing.

“Get out, you perverse fucking voyeur!” Sebastian snapped. Peeves cackled.

“Peeves knows this isn't the first time Sebastian Sallow has defiled the Restricted Section. Peeves will miss all this fun once the naughty seventh years graduate! Consider this secret his parting gift!”

He disappeared through the wall, his cackles echoing through the stone. Sebastian uttered a groan of disgust while your heart rate recovered from the abrupt imposition.

You heaved a sigh when Peeves’ laughter had faded. “Well, I suppose we’d better get back up there in case he actually sends someone to check,” you said. Sebastian was clearly still annoyed, but flashed you an apologetic grin.

“Sorry, darling,” he said as he hooked an arm around your waist to pull you in for a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

You held him to that promise as soon as you could.

---

Two days later, you and Sebastian relocated your study spot to a place that was much more private. The library was packed with students that day, including your ex-boyfriend who glared daggers at you the moment you walked in.

You felt bad for the way things ended with Andrew. He wasn’t a bad person but he’d been a bad boyfriend. He neglected you, dismissed your wants and needs and didn’t take you seriously. Still, he probably didn’t deserve the scene you caused when you broke up with him – not that it had been your idea.

You had wanted to end the relationship quietly, but Sebastian practically skipped into the library with you on his arm minutes after you’d been moaning his name in the Room of Requirement. The two of you found Andrew sitting at that same study table and Sebastian marched you right up to him, where you told him the two of you were over. Then Sebastian paraded you into the Great Hall, you still wearing his sweater, where he didn’t bother to hide his affection for you during dinner. Afterward, you dragged him to the Undercroft for another round.

Sebastian found it hilarious when Andrew glowered at you in the library again, but you steered him back into the Central Hall to avoid any confrontation. You really did need to study that day. Your History of Magic exam was scheduled for the following morning and you were one of the many students who hadn’t paid much attention during class for the duration of the term.

But Ominis had banished you and Sebastian from the Undercroft for the week after he discovered the two of you in an obscene position the previous day.

“The Undercroft ?” he had uttered in disbelief. “Is nothing sacred anymore?”

So today, you and Sebastian sat in the Room of Requirement, your stacks of spellbooks and scrolls scattered over a study table.

Sebastian had lost concentration ages ago. He twirled his wand in one hand while he watched you study. You’d already scolded him twice for being disruptive, and despite his mounting boredom, he knew your exams were important so he did his best to keep quiet.

After three hours of painfully mundane reading, you sighed and sat back in your chair, your eyes tired from straining over your textbooks.

“Ready for a break?” Sebastian asked eagerly. Your gaze drifted over his notes and you snorted as you studied the doodles and drawings he’d made on the edges of the parchment.

“Is that… Ominis?” you asked, squinting at one of the doodles.

“Riding a dragon, yes.”

You laughed and fiddled with your wand, appreciative of the comic relief. But Sebastian’s gaze had shifted and you immediately recognized the way his eyes were darkening with desire. They drifted to your chest, but you crossed your arms to obstruct his view.

“Sebastian…” you warned. “We need to study.”

“We’ve been studying!” he whined. “For three hours. Surely you could use a break. Wasn’t this the exact thing you were anguishing over just weeks ago with Larson?”

“Andrew went weeks without touching me,” you pointed out. “I just fucked you yesterday.”

“Feels like it’s been weeks.”

You rolled your eyes but crossed your legs beneath the table. You, too, were antsy with arousal, but were determined to assert your self-control this time. You’d given in to Sebastian every time until now – not that you’d needed any persuading.

Sebastian leaned closer to you, his hand skimming the top of your knee beneath the table. He was challenging you. He knew your resistance was thin. But he didn’t know you were intent on affirming your power.

His thumb began tracing tiny circles against your thigh and you clenched your jaw. He seemed to notice the twitch in your facial expression because his puppy dog eyes lit up with amusement. Slowly, his hand snaked toward your entrance until two fingers gently brushed over the smooth fabric of your panties.

You fought to maintain a stoic expression, even as a finger pressed into your clit, but a hitch in your breath betrayed you. Sebastian smirked.

“No!” you said firmly as you snapped your knees together to force Sebastian’s hand away. “Sebastian, I want to study.”

“Judging from how wet you are, darling, I don’t think I believe you.”

You huffed an exhausted puff of air. “Okay, so maybe I don’t want to study, but I need to.”

“Do you need it as much as you need to come right now?”

Your eyes widened at his audacity, but you folded your arms in firm denial. “We can address that later,” you said, praying the pitch of your voice wouldn’t expose the filthy thoughts circulating inside your head.

But per usual, Sebastian saw right through you. He lounged backward in his chair, his legs stretched out as he continued to smirk. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that, darling?”

You scowled at him in annoyance and rose to your feet. A book in one hand and your wand in the other, you strode to the sofa that sat six feet away. Sebastian moved as if he were going to follow you, but you pointed your wand at him.

“Hey now! Watch where you point that thing!”

In one fluid flick, your wand emitted a milky haze of dancing white light. You cast a faint glowing line through the air between the table and the sofa until it stretched the entire length of the room. It glimmered and danced as you reached toward it with one palm open. Your hand recoiled against it, confirming that your barrier charm had worked.

Sebastian’s mouth fell open in protest.

“There,” you said indignantly. “Now there will be no temptations.”

“And just how do you expect to leave?” Sebastian demanded.

“The barrier should only last an hour or so, maybe even less. I think we’ll survive.”

Sebastian pouted in his chair as you settled onto the sofa with your book in your lap. You tucked your legs beneath yourself and continued your reading about the Warlocks' Convention of 1709.

In hindsight, choosing the most dreadfully boring subject to study while your boyfriend stared at you with bedroom eyes was probably a poor decision. Soon, your eyes glazed over and you realized you’d read the same page three times with no memory of its contents.

You looked up and were unsurprised to find Sebastian watching you. He quirked an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes in an attempt to feign disinterest. But you couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eye.

He looked so damn good that day. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms, and his hair was particularly messy from waking up late that morning. You imagined those strong arms lifting you onto that study table, where you’d sprawl out as he stood and fucked you.

The image lingered in your head for just a moment too long, and you knew you were a goner.

“Fuck,” you hissed under your breath, annoyed at Sebastian for trying to rile you up. He’d succeeded but now, you both were paying for it. It made you want to strangle him – as soon as you were done riding him into the ground.

But now that stupid barrier lingered between you, and there was no possible way you could wait for it to fall. You could already feel the swell mounting within your core. It made you shift on the sofa, the movement heightening the sensitivity between your legs.

The usual cool of the Room of Requirement felt suffocating. Your cheeks were starting to flush and you knew studying was a lost cause. As you stole another glance at Sebastian, who still lounged quietly in his chair with his legs stretched, you decided the least you could do was have some fun with your situation. Maybe next time, he’d think twice before distracting you – and for trying to challenge you.

You heaved a dramatic, audible sigh as you snapped your book shut. It went forgotten on the sofa next to you as you ran a slow, deliberate hand over your neck.

Sebastian watched you in guarded silence. Slowly, you began to unbutton your blouse, your fingers working carefully as you exposed more and more of your chest.

Sebastian straightened in his chair, sitting upright with his hands on his knees. “What the hell are you doing?” he growled. Your only reply was a silent, fleeting glance and a sinister smile.

Your blouse fell open and your legs followed suit. The hem of your skirt guarded your core, so you slowly hiked it up, pulling it backward to expose what lay beneath.

Sebastian already knew what was waiting. Your soaked panties covered your entrance. He let out a sharp exhale at the sight, his hands gripping his kneecaps as you ran a hand from your neck downward, dragging over one breast and across your stomach until it found the fabric protecting your cunt. Your legs opened wider.

You gently ran a finger over your slit, the friction from the fabric provoking a low moan. You dared to look at Sebastian, who was looking positively distraught over the sight before him.

Good.

You continued to rub your clothed entrance with two fingers until you decided your panties had become too restrictive. As Sebastian’s stare remained locked between your legs, you teased him by running a finger along the edge of the fabric.

“Please,” he rasped. You tugged your panties to the side. You could hear him whimper.

One finger dipped quickly inside your swollen cunt, the moisture coating it immediately. You pulled it out and your arousal glistened over your fingers. You used the moisture to coat your clit, your fingers gliding over the little bundle of nerves until the absence of something inside you was overwhelming.

You dabbed two fingers inside yourself and moaned as your walls clenched desperately around them. As you worked your own core, you sank lower into the sofa, your legs spread wide and your teeth tugging at your bottom lip.

Sebastian dropped his head backward for a moment, his face contorted in absolute anguish as he stared at the ceiling for a moment. It almost appeared as if he was in pain.

The sounds of you fucking yourself echoed, exposing your act to the poor portraits lining the walls. Your moans filled the room. You dug desperately inside yourself, your fingers beckoning and coaxing a release, the cadence of your breathy moans reflecting your nearing climax.

Sebastian’s hands were gripping the seat of his chair, his knuckles bright white as he watched. You almost felt sorry for him. Almost .

He swiped at his face with his hand, as if he were trying to stifle another whimper. The peak in his pants looked positively painful. You couldn’t help but feel impressed that he had managed to refrain from any attempts to relieve his own arousal.

But your dripping need was more important. Finally, your eyes fell shut and you had to picture Sebastian’s face as you became too immersed in the heat that was coursing between your legs.

“Mmm, I’m going to come, Seb,” you managed to whine. He swore under his breath.

With your eyes squeezed shut and your walls squeezed even tighter, your fingers drove at your sweet spot and your palm dragged against your clit. You moved with vigor despite your tiring arm.

Finally, you knew you were close. You wanted to sneak one more glance at Sebastian. You knew he was positively reeling. But you were feeling too selfish and too needy; your release was too demanding.

So instead, you moaned his name. It was followed with a grating cry that had formed deep in your throat. You came so hard, it felt like your walls were pounding around your fingers. You held them in place, clutching at yourself as you tried to prolong the sensation.

When it finally subsided, your heart was still pounding and your eyes peeled open. The room took a moment to fall into focus, but through the haze, you could see Sebastian’s form.

He slumped in his chair, shoulders forward and knees bent. He looked positively miserable, as if he’d been dragged through absolute hell.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you… do you want to… take your turn?”

“No. I… don’t need to.”

Your eyes fell to his lap. “Oh.”

Now, you were feeling torn between guilt and pride; remorseful for making your poor boyfriend sit through such a sinful act; proud of the clear power you held over him. But this was his fault. You were perfectly content on studying until he decided to exhibit such feral behavior. You were simply matching his conduct. And now you knew you could make him come without even touching him.

But you were also physically spent. The magic barrier continued to glimmer across the room as you redressed yourself. Sebastian watched you quietly, his expression sedated and sleepy.

You nearly laughed as you realized he looked more spent than you did. But even the relief you had given yourself could never match the absolute euphoria of Sebastian’s touch. You already found yourself wanting it as soon as possible.

With time to spare as you waited for the barrier to fade, you tried to return to your reading. But now, your prior tension was replaced with a sluggish post-orgasm haze that made you drowsy. So instead, you curled up on the sofa with your head on the arm rest, asleep within minutes.

A gentle nudge pulled you from your nap. You sat up to find Sebastian lounging on the sofa next to you.

“Seb?”

“Hey, darling.”

“How long was I asleep?”

Sebastian consulted his pocket watch. “Little over two hours.”

“Two hours ? Why did you let me sleep that long?”

“You looked like you needed it. Especially after that grand… performance you put on.”

Your cheeks flushed and you noticed Sebastian was wearing a new pair of trousers. “Did you… where did-”

“I went back to my dorm to change,” Sebastian explained. His cool, calm demeanor caught you off guard. You had been certain he’d be eager to ravish – or punish – you for your earlier antics. “Dinner’s going to start soon. You hungry?”

“I should be studying,” you groaned as you realized you had wasted an entire afternoon. The History of Magic exam was tomorrow.

“I’ll tell you what, love. How about we go grab some dinner and then you can study in peace and quiet. I’ll use the time to visit Anne,” Sebastian offered.

You blinked at him, your suspicion raised instantly. “Visit Anne,” you repeated blankly.

“Yes, Anne. You know, my sister?”

Something didn’t feel right. You knew Sebastian. You’d spent the past two weeks attached at the hip – literally and figuratively – and you couldn’t believe he’d be willing to spend the evening apart so willingly.

“You’re not going to punish me?” you asked stupidly. “For earlier?”

Sebastian barked a laugh. “What for, darling? How could I possibly be upset about having such an independent girlfriend?”

“Independent?”

“Yes, independent. Clearly you can take care of yourself. You don’t need me.”

Ah, there it was. His gameplay. You knew he wouldn’t let you off the hook. He was going to withhold sex from you as punishment. He’d seen how you agonized when Andrew had denied you for weeks, but he knew this would be much worse. You liked Andrew but you loved Sebastian. You’d spent the past two weeks absolutely enamored by the way he ruined you.

This would become a game; a contest to see who could pretend to care less. And you’d give it your best performing act. Because you knew Sebastian, too. He was merely a man; a man who couldn’t contain himself at the mere sight of you falling apart hours earlier.

So instead of protesting, you flashed him your prettiest smile and draped your arms around him in a hug, feigning gratitude for a night off.

—

Your gratitude was short-lived. You went to bed alone that night, tired after an evening of actual studying in the Room of Requirement by yourself. But by midnight, you were tossing and turning in distress over the excruciating ache that had returned between your legs.

Sebastian sauntered into the Great Hall the next morning and pressed a kiss to your temple as he slid into the seat next to you.

“Get all your studying done?” he asked casually.

“I know more about the outlawing of dragon breeding than I know the back of my hand,” you sighed. “How’s Anne?”

“She’s good,” Sebastian answered as he heaped a pile of eggs onto his plate. “I, uh… told her about us.”

You froze mid-bite into a slice of pineapple. “You did?”

“Relax,” Sebastian chuckled. “She’s thrilled for us. I knew she would be. She claims she knew all along that we’d end up together.”

You spent the remainder of breakfast quizzing each other for your exams, but beneath the table, you squirmed, annoyed that Sebastian had managed to appear so nonchalant over your lack of intimacy the previous night. What you didn’t know was that he’d spent the later hours of the evening relieving himself – twice – at the memory of what you’d done in the Room of Requirement.

The day’s exams didn’t end until late afternoon, meaning you didn’t see Sebastian again until dinner. You were dissecting the answers to the Arithmancy exam with Imelda Reyes when Sebastian appeared, lowering himself across from you.

“Survive that Muggle Studies exam, Sallow?” Imelda asked.

“Easily,” Sebastian answered as he shifted his gaze to you.

“How was History of Magic?” he asked.

“Dreadful, but I think I aced it,” you answered.

“That’s my girl.”

Imelda rolled her eyes and redirected the conversation to her upcoming tryout with the Montrose Magpies.

You listened to the details, genuinely happy your friend was close to securing her dream, but you couldn’t avert your eyes from Sebastian who was watching you quietly. When your eyes locked, he reached for an apple from the bowl on the table.

You narrowed your eyes in a silent quizzical stare as Imelda rambled on, her voice fading to a background hum as Sebastian took a slow and deliberate bite from the apple. His jaw closed and you could practically hear him sucking the juice from the apple’s skin. He chewed carefully and swallowed before he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyes still on yours.

Your hips shifted in your seat. Sebastian noticed and smirked.

You spent the remainder of the meal pretending Imelda’s quidditch tryout was the most fascinating thing you’d ever heard.

Students spent that evening enjoying the extended curfew that only came during exam week. Many lingered in the Great Hall while others scattered across the school grounds to take advantage of the warm evening. The rest retreated to the library to continue their studying.

You, however, didn’t make it down the steps to the Viaduct Courtyard before Sebastian was steering you toward the dungeons.

You greeted the few familiar faces in the Slytherin Common Room until Sebastian impatiently prodded you with his knee. After ascending the steps to the boys’ dormitories, he ushered you inside his room and kicked the door shut. The room was empty, his roommates likely out enjoying the evening, and you couldn’t wait to enjoy yours.

“Thought you were going to make me wait,” you teased as you slid yourself backward onto the bed, your legs dangling off the side.

“That was me making you wait,” Sebastian growled. You snorted.

“Seb, that was one day,” you noted.

“And that was more than enough.”

His admission that he couldn’t bear more than one day without burying himself inside you was exhilarating.

Sebastian all but dove for you, his hands clawing at your shoes and tights. Your skirt and panties followed until only your blouse and bra remained.

Sebastian groaned at the sight of your entrance, which was already slick with anticipation. His arms hooked around your legs, yanking you to the edge of the bed.

“You’ve been fucking killing me,” he whined as he lowered himself between your legs.

A low, slow sigh left your lips the moment his tongue made contact with your entrance. He lapped at you in so much earnest, you could feel his breaths against your swollen skin.

He planted a kiss to your clit before a finger teased your folds. Your hips rocked in agony, your cunt desperate to swallow any part of Sebastian he’d allow.

Two fingers sank into you and you instantly scolded yourself for thinking your own hands were worth a damn while in the Room of Requirement the previous day. Nothing felt as good as Sebastian.

You moaned as you stretched around his fingers, your wet arousal making him hiss.

“Fucking hell.”

He pulled his hand away and you whimpered in protest, though your frustration was short-lived as you watched him suck his fingers. It was an erotic vision that made your nipples harden.

“Better than any stupid apple,” he murmured. And his mouth returned to you again.

Fists balled the bed covers in your hands as your back sank deeper into the bed while you lifted your hips and gasped for more; more pressure, more relief, more Sebastian. His tongue teased your clit until his entire mouth was around your entrance, sucking at your flesh.

“Fuck, Seb. I’m so close.”

You could feel his tongue flatten over your clit in brisk swipes. The sound that vibrated from your throat was more of a pulsing hum than a moan as your eyes clamped shut, your focus drilled on the edge of your looming orgasm.

“Seb, I’m going to c-”

And then, silence. The pressure and heat was gone in an instant and your eyes shot open. Sebastian loomed over you, his glistening lips parted in a smug grin.

It was infuriating. You were splayed out, exposed and vulnerable, and your boyfriend had the audacity to tease and torture you. You wanted to curse him, hex him and pummel him with your fists.

But the best you could manage was a sharp, pained whine. And Sebastian, that cruel, conniving prick, responded with a short and maniacal laugh.

You glared, your cheeks flushed and your entrance seeping, determined to get your release. Maybe he was right. Maybe you’d just have to be an independent woman.

Your hand snapped to your entrance, fingers working frantically. It caught Sebastian off guard and he moved quickly to pin your hands to the bed above your head. You kicked your feet and he forced himself on top of you, more weight pushing your wrists downward into the mattress.

“Not yet,” he growled. “You’re going to wait for me. Understand?” You nodded in compliance.

Sebastian didn’t speak as he returned to his feet. You watched with dark eyes as he reached for his belt, the buckle clinking softly as it released. His pants dropped to the floor, followed by his boxers. He slid his shirt overhead and stepped out of the heap of clothes on the floor, his erection bobbing as he moved.

He crawled over you again, one of his knees deliberately placed between your thighs, inches from your entrance. One hand worked slowly at the buttons of your blouse, addressing them one-by-one until your chest was exposed.

That same hand snaked its way beneath you, fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra until it snapped apart, your breasts falling from its hold. Sebastian helped you from your shirt and bra, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

“So fucking perfect,” he said. You shifted miserably beneath him.

He lowered his mouth to your right breast, his tongue tracing slowly over your nipple. The bed creaked as his knee shifted closer, pressing itself against your cunt. You whimpered, certain that your body was going to catch fire.

Sebastian cupped your breast, pressing a trail of kisses to your neck where you could feel him smiling into your skin. His knee twitched and he snorted against the crook of your neck.

“You are so fucking wet,” he laughed.

You narrowed your eyes in ire, but the pressure of skin against your entrance was intoxicating. You couldn’t help yourself. You bucked your hips, grinding your folds against Sebastian’s leg.

He looked ecstatic.

“And I thought I was a pathetic mess in the Room of Requirement yesterday,” he mused as he gazed down at you. “But look at you, trying to fall apart against my fucking leg .”

If it hadn’t been for the students lounging in the Common Room below, you would have screamed. Or murdered him.

Sebastian pulled away to stand over you, the cool room coursing over your skin without his warmth.

“You know,” Sebastian murmured. “All you have to do is ask nicely.”

“Please,” you breathed. Your chest heaved and your hips rocked against nothing. It was shameful but you were void of any dignity now.

“That’s better.” You couldn’t help but pout at him and he grinned. “You know, darling, I don’t like making you wait either. My self-restraint has been hanging by a thread all day.”

“Then stop making me wait,” you growled. “ Please .”

Hearing you beg with authority was his final undoing. Sebastian liked to dominate you, but he liked your fiery attitude even more. It was what made him fall so stupidly in love with you in the first place.

He pushed your legs apart and stood between them, his eyes drinking in the way your body was laid out for him, your breasts bouncing with every movement.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you moaned in relief as you felt it settle inside you, pushing and stretching you until you were filled.

“I have to say,” Sebastian panted as he paused to allow your walls to adjust to his size. “I quite like the view from up here. Can’t wait to watch you fall apart beneath me.”

“Then hurry the fuck up,” you hissed. Sebastian beamed at you.

He started slow, pulling his cock until the head lingered near the folds of your entrance before he rocked his hips forward, sinking into you until he was fully sheathed again. His plan had been to tease you like this for quite some time, with leisurely, deliberate strokes slow enough that you’d feel every inch of his cock parting your walls. But reality was quite sobering. Soon, Sebastian’s restraint shattered and he was pumping into you at a short, steady pace, his eyes glued to the spot where you were connected.

“My god,” he choked. The view of your cunt swallowing his length repeatedly turned his brain to mush, but nothing had prepared him for the sight of your wet arousal coating his shaft.

Your moans filled the room, your hands gripping and squeezing your nipples. Sebastian grunted at the sight of you playing with your own breasts, an erotic vision straight from years of his fantasies.

“God, you take me so well,” he moaned, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled your body into his thrusts.

You were teetering on the edge of ruin, your nerves heightened from the edging Sebastian had given you with his tongue moments ago. He reached down to trace circles over your clit, the extra source of sensation pushing you through the threshold.

“Sebastian!” The cry of his name preceded a sharp gasp as the swelling wave inside you crashed. Your toes curled and your back arched as your walls spasmed and grasped around Sebastian’s cock.

Sebastian pressed the tip of his cock hard into your sweet spot, coaxing more moisture that dripped down his length while you orgasmed. He held it there until you were done crumbling around him.

“You’re fucking perfect when you come,” Sebastian croaked. He reached for your ankles and pulled them together, lifting them into the air to rest against his shoulder.

He regained a steady rhythm of thrusts, the new position squeezing your tight heat around him. His cock drove upward, drilling hard until you were certain you were too sensitive to handle him.

Sebastian’s grip tightened around your ankles, his thrusts falling out of sync as he began to unravel. The smacking sound reverberated off the walls. But you were too selfish to allow him to quit just yet.

“Seb, I’m close,” you moaned.

Sebastian grunted. “Going to come for me again so soon?” he managed.

“Yes, please. Please .”

His jaw was clenched so tight you feared it would crack, but his cock pounded your cunt harder. The pitch of your moans drifted higher and higher until the peak of the noise matched the peak inside your core.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Sebastian coughed just as your final orgasm tore through your insides. You came so hard, you arched off the bed, your ankles digging downward into Sebastian’s shoulder as you cried out. His knees would have buckled beneath the force if he hadn’t tensed from his own climax, his body going rigid as his cock twitched. He groaned through the sensation until he used your leg to pull your body flush against himself with one final slam, spurting his release inside you.

He remained there, though he was barely able to stand as you wondered if your skeleton had vacated your body.

“Fucking hell,” Sebastian panted. “Let’s never go that long without each other again.”

“Agreed,” you murmured.

And before you could move apart, the dormitory door swung open and Ominis strode in. He froze dead in his tracks, the tip of his wand glowing vibrant red as he analyzed the scene before him.

“Are you two fucking serious?!”

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #hl #hl fanfic #hl smut #whizzing fizzbee fanfic

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lanafofana · 7 hours ago

Note

lana, may i humbly request a teeny bit of rookanis please? with or without spite, up to you

Anything for you Doe! ‘In the hands of a master the simplest of weapons was transformed into an artist’s tool. When he moved, the blade acted as an extension of his very will. Light flickered off the edge like a dance echoed in the perfect choreography of an a—

“Rook.”

The quill made a wet inky smear across the page as it slipped from between Bellara’s startled fingers. Below her perch, the thunk of blade against cutting board seemed a tad more menacing when one realized Spite was on the other end of it.

“Spite. Hello.” Rook’s voice was warm and friendly as always. Privately Bellara marveled that her protagonist boss was so unflappable in the weirdest of situations. “Does Lucanis know that you’re…um. What are you doing?”

“Preparing. Food. Feed the.” Spite growled, low and guttural, as if slipping out of the range of his vocabulary and displeased by it.

“Are you making dinner for everyone?” Rook supplied, her voice slowly approaching as she drew closer to see what Spite had wrought of their provisions.

“Yes,” confirmed Spite.

“I see. That’s, well,” faltered Rook. “I think that’s potentially very nice. Well done trying to help Lucanis with meals. I do have one question though, just a thought. Feel free to not answer.”

“Ask. Question!”

“Do you have any idea what to feed, um, people?”

Spite was silent for a long moment. The sounds of a knife slicing through something and hitting the cutting board started up again, slowly at first and then gaining more speed. And then, finally, Spite said: “Cut into pieces, collect into pot, fire!”

“I see you’ve been paying attention to Lucanis’ cooking,” Rook’s voice noted, amused. “Perhaps I can answer any questions you might have on what types of things you should be cutting into pieces.”

“Types,” grunted Spite.

“Types of food,” said Rook. “Cheese. Bread. Fresh things, you know like, uh, fruits and vegetables. Fish, venison, pork…that mystery jerkey Solas left behind in the back.”

“Mystery…” Spite’s knife paused on the cutting board. “This? Not. Food?”

“No,” said Rook, sounding relieved their impromptu lesson on digestible ingredients had taken root. “No. That’s not food.”

“Start. Over?” Spite demanded, sounding torn between anger and, just detectable in the lilt of his pout, frustration.

“That’s alright. You learned a new thing anyway,” said Rook. “Tell you what, I’ll take care of dinner tonight and next time I’ll teach you something easy you can make everyone. All by yourself if you really want.”

Spite growled.

“Or we can make it a group effort. See if Manfred wants to learn a new recipe besides tea and those little sandwiches.”

“Curiosity doesn’t? Know recipe?”

“I haven’t taught them anything in the kitchen so I don’t really know. Probably not.”

“Rook teach Spite,” declared Spite suddenly. “Not Curiosity!”

“How will Curiosity, I mean Manfred, learn something new then?”

Spite nearly shouted in his excitement. “Spite! Teach! Curiosity!” Spite laughed, a hoarse dry cackle that raised the hairs on the back of Bellara’s neck.

“If you like,” said Rook gamely. “For now, if you grab me some onions from the back I can show you a couple other ways to cut up vegetables.”

The sound of the knife clattering to the table was followed by the retreat of footsteps as Spite retrieved the onions. Bellara leaned out of her hiding spot and could just barely see Rook’s profile as she cleared whatever Spite had been diligently dicing into the garbage bin.

“Rook?” Lucanis, having just emerged from the pantry, blinked sleepily as he looked from the onions in his hands to Rook, confusion bleeding into dismay.

“Spite thought you could use a break from cooking,” Rook said, taking the onions from him and returning to the kitchen. “Might have a point too, you look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

“Lucanis.”

The assassin set his jaw. “I’m fine.”

Rook’s grip on the onions tightened before her shoulders drooped and she sighed. “None of us are fine, Lucanis.” The sound of a knife slicing through onion started up and the crinkle of paper onion skin being discarded followed. “It’s alright to depend on us as much as we depend on you.”

“Are you giving me one of your famous pep talks?”

“Only if it’s working.”

“Hmm,” Lucanis joined Rook in the kitchen. His arms folded while he watched her knife work. “You should take your own advice some time.”

Rook looked at him from the corner of her eye. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t always have to be the one to pick up the slack. Let someone else cook, you’ve been going at full speed ever since—”

“I’m fine.”

“Ah,” said the assassin with a smile Bellara didn’t have to see to know was gracing the curve of his lips. “Of course.”

Rook’s hands stilled and she shot Lucanis an annoyed look. “Point taken, Dellamorte.” She hesitated, head dipping down, and then sighed as if very gently releasing a hidden pressure valve in her chest. “Sometimes I think if I stand in one place too long, my secret will be out.”

Lucanis tilted his head to one side, “And what secret is that?”

A hollow, self deprecating laugh shook loose in the silence. “What an utter fraud I am.”

“Nobody who has seen you do the things you have could think you’re a fraud.”

Rooks hair moved as she shook her head. “I wasn’t meant for this. Leadership? Me? I don’t know what I’m doing and any minute it feels like someone’s going to call my bluff.”

“Nobody questions your leadership,” said Lucanis, still staring at Rook’s face as if waiting for it to crack open and reveal the secrets hidden within.

“Maybe they should,” she retorted.

“Rook.”

“Lucanis,” she parroted.

“Are all Lords of Fortune as insufferable as you are?”

“No,” Rook laughed. “I’m one of a kind.”

“I was already aware of that.” Bellara felt her heart swell to burst and clamped her mouth shut on a squeal before it could escape.

Rook sucked in a breath and finally tilted her head to meet the assassin’s eyes. “Now who’s giving the pep talk?”

“I told you, did I not?” Lucanis closed the distance between them and nuzzled his face into her hair, hands on her hips. “When you doubted yourself, I would be here to remind you how magnificent you are.”

“Magnificent is a bit much, don’t you think?”

Lucanis was adamant. “Magnificent,” he murmured into her hair. “Magnificent,” he said against the warm freckled skin of her neck. With a deft touch he removed the knife from her hand and placed it with the onions. Tugging on her hands Lucanis drew her away from the kitchen and into a soft embrace. “Magnificent,” he promised.

“Sap,” Rook scoffed through a smile. “What are we going to do about dinner?”

Lucanis grinned. “Bellara volunteered.”

From her perch Bellara’s heart stuttered.

“She did?” Rook asked as Lucanis led her away towards the main door.

“She did,” confirmed Lucanis.

From her corner Bellara peered around the edge of her hiding spot and locked eyes with the crow. He winked before ushering Rook out of the building.

[later, in another part of the lighthouse] Emmrich: where the devil are my gloves Manfred: *innocent hiss*

#rookanis #veilguard fic #ask prompt #lucanis dellamorte #rook #spite dellamorte #bellara lutare #rookanis fic #veilguard spoilers #kind of

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fanaticsnail · 24 hours ago

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Uncharted Horizons

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 2,100+

Synopsis: A high-flying trapeze artist enjoys her morning practice before the assortment of rabblerousing crew joins her in her solice. Unbeknownst to her, an onlooker watching her routine was working up the courage to finally confess to his harboured feelings growing in his chest while he watched on over his morning coffee.

Themes: Buggy x Ari (One Piece Original Character), fluff, trapeze, love confession, minor sense of peril, kisses.

Notes: This is for my beautiful friend, @okanadafreakingfan, who drew me a gorgeous picture of my OC Tobiuo and Heat a little while ago. I adore writing for original characters, and I hope you like it as much now as you did when I first showed you, Okana! Divider by @/firefly-graphics. Ao3 link Here.

Not a sound nor whisper echoed within the circular arena beneath the large, red and white tent shrouding the grounds from sunlight. Morning dews covered the bleachers from the first kiss of winter, ice clutching the railing that appeared due for a polish and clean. The rays begun to twinkle through the splits in the tarp to color the ground in stripes of gold, a contrast to the nights’ manufactured spotlights that danced on the skin and sequined leotards and costumes.

Ari was the artist, aerial mastery was her tool, and the air was her living and breathing canvas. Those witnessing a true maestro to the symphony of skies were often left astounded at the end of a whimsical performance. Her cotton candy pink hair, her brilliant smile, and the glitz and glamour that comes with being a member of the Buggy Pirates had long since left her after a week-long run of shows for the public. Now stripped back to basic black, Ari chalks her hands and verbalises her cues while readying herself for a run-through of the script and performance.

“And now presenting: the angel in the skies, taking flight as a gift from Buggy the Clown to you,” she utters, repeating her captain’s words in a soft tone. Her hands reached forward as the chalk made contact with the frayed ropes to form a tacky hold over the fibres. As she jumped up to grip the tanned ropes, she visualised more of his speech. Scampering up the ropes, she finally brushed her fingers against the circular hoop and gripped it firmly.

Drawing up her knees to her chest, Ari thrust her heels immediately outwards to propel herself forward. Her biceps tensed and flexed as she began to swing from below her hoop. To and fro, her body surged forward until she deemed it enough to roll her stomach beneath it and anchor her hips to the base of the ring. Presenting out her wrist, the aerial performer flicked her fingers and pointed her toes in a motion depicting poise, grace, and elegance.

Should this had been a performance night, her cheeks would be blooming with a flush as she forced a smile to crawl over her lips. She was no longer bound by such a hindrance. No smile, no laughter, no performance: simply an artist in their element as she performed for no one but herself.

At least, Ari thought that was the case.

Under the assumption that the majority of the crew would be sleeping off their hangovers after celebrating the conclusion of a successful run, Captain Buggy sauntered into the arena, sans paint and glamor, while holding a fresh mug of his morning coffee. He would usually enjoy this out watching the sunrise, a habit he picked up from an old first mate he knew from long ago, but hearing the rocking of ropes in the arena.

While participating in the show, Buggy was distraught to admit that he had not had the privilege of simply sitting back and watching the show he worked hard to curate. Back pressed against the pole anchoring the canvas shroud, his jaw fell slack as he gawked at Ari as she slowed the swing to a complete stop. There she was, his starlight, his performer, his woman, simply his - at least, until the lights went out. She was his everything within the arena, the stars to dust his night sky with its illuminance, and in their private lives: barely a whisper of a word to one another aside from chores and orders.

Ari moved to sit on the ring, perching herself within the middle loop and rolling her ankles at the heels to extend her toes outwards. Her back braced against the side as she arched her arms either side of her person, legs gracefully bent at the knees as one foot gripped the ring and the other tastefully extended acrobatically below her. Slowly rolling herself beneath it, Buggy almost dropped his coffee mug while thinking she was to fall to her death, but she easily caught the ring on her knee and arched her back outwards.

She looked so peaceful while dangling herself upside down. There was something within that easy tranquility that Buggy witnessed in her closed eyelids. She was at complete peace in her element, and Buggy was awestruck by her majesty. Tugging herself upright, she angled her hips comfortably and began to spin in slow and lazy circles. “Comfy up there, Ari?” Buggy called to her, “You almost look like a cute little bird sittin’ on a perch- Woah-!”

Ari was startled by the sudden voice as she immediately jolted upright in reaction. Her knee lost its grip on the hoop and her hands clawed at the air to find any brace of substance. Before she began this little run through, she knew she should’ve raised the net to catch her. She had yet to have a fall since the beginning of her journey with the Buggy Pirates, and she trusted herself up until this very point.

The world moved slowly. Each claw and grab for a foundation was split from her as her breath left her body. She was too high up to survive this great drop. At least, not without a-.

“-Fuck, Ari!” The nasally voice of her captain barked at her, catching her mid-flight as his feet lay detached at his ankles a few feet below. Immediately, the infamous clown-captain cradled his pink-haired performer against his chest and slowly began his descent down. Each inch towards the ground held a raspy reprimand towards the aerial performer.

“Ari, you need to use the nets!”

“Ari, you should’ve had someone to spot you!” “Ari, you need someone to watch over you when you perform!”

“Ari, you’re trying to kill me and yourself at this rate!”

As his ankles touched the ground, he expected his mistress of the skies to release her arms from around his neck. To his surprise, she held on tight and buried her head in the crook of his neck and took a large inhale of breath to steady herself.

“Ari, are you-?” “-I’m so sorry, Captain Buggy,” she mumbled into his neck and sucked in a shaken breath, “I thought I was better than this. I thought I could… I just… I…” Her words left her as she pawed at him to cling to the lifeline and rescuer that spared her of an unfortunate demise. Her breath fluttered at every intake as she fully felt the impact of her earlier decision.

Without much warning, Buggy turned to look at her bated breaths and darted his eyes over her features. His eyes met hers, his breath matching her own, and his eyes widening as she gazed up at him with an expression he had only dreamed about in the fairytales he was begrudgingly read as a child. She looked up at him like he was her everything. Everything. Someone who had the foundations of becoming the cornerstone of her soul was the expression she wore up at him.

As she leaned in, he found could not deny her of her earthly tether.

Her lips met his in a soft timidity. Slow, soft, unsure, yet desperate for a contact after the feat that nearly claimed her. She mouthed at his lips to part them with every soft swipe of her tongue and extension of her lips. Every moment she pressed onto his skin, a part of him melted away. Initially, his hands flailed at his sides as he failed to comprehend what was occurring in an expression such as this. Yes, he had been kissed before: paid whores, practicing with other young folk in his youth, but this was different. This was sacred. This was almost holy to him, and he had no idea how to react to it.

Buggy’s hands softly cradled her lower back and drew her closer into him. He tilted his head to avoid his rotund nose from enabling a greater depth should she desire it. Buggy would take what he got from her and be glad for every breath this graced him. He did not fit the mold of a hero often, if at all, and he almost felt like he was milking this moment a little more than he intended.

He was the first to break the kiss, looking down at her with a flutter of his lengthy, blue eyelashes. His teal eyes were indecisive to which of Ari’s he found purchase, but settled on her lips as he spoke with her.

“Ari…” he exhaled softly, as subtle as a whispered confession in a priest’s booth, “...My love, I didn’t mean to yell. I never want you to fear me. I’m… I… I just… fuck.” He huffed out his chuckle and slowly drew his eyes from her heart-shaped lips to her eyes.

“Ari. Baby, I care about you,” he confessed while drawing his hand up to cup her cheek. Leaning in, he pressed his forehead against hers and shared her breath, “You’re my little songbird, fluttering your wings and sitting on the trapeze. You’re the starlight to my darkening sky, which sounds really corny and stupid now saying it aloud.” He huffed out a small chuckle and closed his eyes. Brushing his rounded nose with hers, he removed any apprehension from his mind at his embarrassment over the bulging sphere - choosing to only focus on her.

Ari took a moment to calm herself, finally opening her eyes and gazing up into the teal eyes of her saviour. She felt her heart swell with every passing moment, slowly finding a confession dam behind her teeth and refuse to flee them. Buggy remained patient as she hardened her resolve and looked up at him.

“All I am, all I do… I do for you, captain,” she whispered softly, leaning into his hand at her cheek and puckering her lips into his palm, “...I just want to make you proud. I want to make you happy. I sharpen my skills and train so hard in the hopes that it makes you smile - even just once. I…” Her teeth chattered and brows furrowed in her every moment, slowly taking in a breath before she found the words she wanted to say so desperately.

“I love you.”

Ari’s lips never found them, growing silent as Buggy articulated the phrase she was searching for. He nodded, slowly solidifying the expression while repeating them on a loop.

“I love you, Ari. I do. You’re everything to me, even if you don’t realise it,” he laughed softly with his eyes crinkling at the corners, “It’s not an act to me. Well, it kind of is considering we’re a fucking circus, but anyway-.” He cut himself off as he gazed into her eyes once more. Leaning forward, he couldn’t stop the emotion from welling up in his guts and pouring from his lips like the sentimental sailor he was born to be.

A deep and plentiful kiss burned into her skin, initiated by her captain while he drew her ever closer. If he didn’t speak when he chose to, she would not have fallen. If he didn’t catch her when she did, she would no longer be here. He refused to let another moment depart from either of them again without feeling her body as close as she could get to his.

Slowly backing himself into the bleachers, he continued to kiss her while cupping her thighs and settling her on his lap. He was not doing any of this to coerce her into anything ebbing on uncomfortable, but in his lazy morning, he simply wanted to be sat while the most beautiful woman of his dreams laid her passion against his lips. Dragging her over his lap, he moved his hands from her thighs to the small of her back while unbreaking his lips from hers.

This time, Ari was the first to separate her lips from his own. Only slowly, only softly, only apprehensively - the confidence of the performer was stripped from them both in their morning daze. Roosters in town began to crow as the sunlight trickled in to cover their bodies in the sheen of deep amber. Silence was thick between them, but not awkward as they settled into this new reality they found themselves meeting.

Buggy had confessed his love for the pink-haired performer first, and Ari had ricocheted the affection back to the cerulean-haired clown tenfold in her actions. Where they went from here was up to them, but as the warmth of the morning begun to melt the ice from the bleacher frame, they simply dwelled in the softness of one another's arms.

#one piece #x oc #oc x canon #buggy x oc #buggy x ari #others' ocs #my writing #trades #buggy #buggy the clown #buggy d clown #one piece original character #one piece fluff #one piece x oc #op oc #one piece oc #op buggy

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quibbs126 · 1 day ago

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So because for whatever reason, TFA Sentinel has been incredibly prevalent in my mind today, I decided I might as well draw him

The first big issue was drawing that goddamn face. The big chin caused problems for me because it changes how I need to draw the face. So he didn’t really end up looking great on my first try (top left)

But by the second drawing I found a way, one that stuck throughout the rest of the drawing as I had the sketch on hand to look at. This is how I had it for that last one

But yeah, scheming Sentinel probably ended up turning out the best in my opinion

I still need to work on his body proportions though, the bottom left especially is pretty wonky. But maybe with some more practice I’ll get it down more

It’s the shovel things on his shoulder that get me the most, I feel like I make them too small but also they cover too much area at the same time

The bottom left I drew because one of my references made me realize he had some absolutely huge hands

Due to proportion wonkiness, I don’t think I made them big enough to convey the actual point, but at least there’s the ref to get what I’m saying

The bottom right meanwhile I drew mostly because I wanted to draw him with big shook eyes. Then I made it a reference to when I tried to draw TFA Optimus by making him shocked by TFO Sentinel

But yeah, I think it turned out relatively well, and I wouldn’t mind drawing him more. Should probably try drawing him with Optimus in all honesty, and maybe Elita/Blackarachnia

I really don’t know why he’s a favorite of mine, but he is. He’s a little bastard and I like seeing him suffer

Maybe it was the fanfic, maybe it wasn’t. I don’t know but he’s mine now

But I’m also really sad that he’ll never get the chance to have a proper character arc. I know I’ve spoken about it before, but I’m sad about it again. Granted, the show might never have given him one (and tbh I kind of lean more on the idea that he wouldn’t) but that’s one of the beauties of cancelled seasons, you can imagine anything was going to happen if it was plausible enough

I think he needs to properly suffer before getting a proper arc though. Or I guess have that be what drives him to change his ways. Not really sure what the suffering would be though, since I don’t think getting punished for his shadiness as acting Magnus would do that, it’d be more comeuppance than anything

I’m thinking it should deal with his organic phobia, like have him be made a techno-organic or something, if only temporarily. But even if temporary, he has to properly suffer like that for a while, maybe gaining more of an understanding of what Blackarachnia’s gone through and/or more of an understanding of organics

Honestly considering Blackarachnia was going to be the villain of Season 4, it probably wouldn’t be that implausible, I just don’t know if they would. And it’ll never happen anyways, so who cares?

Ah well, I suppose. That’s what fanfiction is for. So I need a multi chapter fanfic about a Sentinel redemption arc. Maybe it could be me one day, but I don’t have the commitment for that right now, just like every other idea I had

Anyways, I’m getting carried away now. Sentinel is neat and I don’t care if people hate him, he’s special to me, even if I don’t know why

#I was gonna say something in the tags but I forgot what #I know this wasn’t it but honestly drawing the eye shades is more trouble than it seems #here I had the eyes be on a separate layer above but even then #maybe I just need to draw them bigger so my brush isn’t so cramped #not just with the eyes but with the everything #I do at least feel the urge to draw more half body sketches now instead of just heads #anyways #transformers #transformers animated #sentinel prime #tfa sentinel prime #my art

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thiriann · 1 day ago

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Days of hedonistic debauchery- Ch. 2

You can also find me on AO3

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3.3k

Pairing: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character

Warnings: Named Tav , Multiple Orgasms, Blood Drinking, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Falling In Love

Prompt:

"In public"

Note:

A collection of short stories depicting Thiriann and Astarion as they engage in the most hedonistic, tender, loving and consensual debauchery of their lives. A part of the 12 Days of Kinkmas 2024 BG3 Smut challenge created by ShandoraTheExplorer .

Summary:

Summary: “You've been on edge all day haven't you? Poor dear. I can give you what you need, but you have to ask for it. Do you want it?”

“I…”

She bit her lip, glancing around the camp, acutely aware of their exposed position. They were in the middle of camp, in plain sight while their companions slept around them, hushed snores coming from their tents accompanied the occasional flicker of firelight—it would be obvious to anyone who looked what they were getting up to.

Yet with him pressed so close to her, his hand buried between her legs rubbing lazy circles against her clit , she could barely think straight, feeling like she'd burst into flames from desire on the spot.

"I want you," she admitted unabashedly. "Gods, I want you."

As another eventful day drew to a close, Thiriann settled beside the roaring campfire, engrossed in a freshly plundered tome. To the casual observer, she might have seemed the picture of tranquility, but Astarion knew better. In the short weeks they'd spent together, he'd become adept at reading the subtle signs her body betrayed.

She'd been on edge all day, practically buzzing with excitement since he'd fed on her during the previous night. The memory of his last feeding lingered, the way she'd trembled beneath him, her breath catching in her throat with each deep, satisfying draught.

Even now, her gaze was drawn to him, fixed on his form with quiet intensity. It was a familiar dance, a game he'd played countless times. Almost too easy; it always was. Yet, something about Thiriann was different.

He should have been able to dismiss the persistent images of her in his mind, the unexpected spark of joy that came as he drank her blood for the first time and had lodged itself in his heart, stubbornly refusing to be extinguished. Nor could he ignore the connection he felt when he talked to her about his past, the genuine attentiveness and care in her eyes.

His plan was working perfectly; he should have been happy about that.

With him tightly glued to Thiriann's side, the others had already mostly left him alone about the whole vampire thing. Mostly. There were some occasional comments about their budding relationship but it seemed they weren’t enough to dissuade her from continuing to share his company… and his bed. Naturally, of course. He was very skilled in the art of pleasure, and he wasn’t holding back on the myriad of tricks he knew.

Some twisted part of him didn't mind it. Wanted to show her just how good he was, wanted her to know he's worth it.He tried telling himself it was because she was useful but even he couldn't believe that lie.

And another part could say he even found a certain enjoyment in it. It had felt different with her, in a strange way he couldn't exactly point out.

He delighted in her reactions: the way she’d forget what she wanted to say when he dropped a flirtatious remark or how he could see her cheeks flush with blood at a simple wink. He had to admit it had been the most… fun than he'd had in a long time and it was getting to him.

He caught her gaze again; she looked puzzled. With some level of trepidation, he realized he'd been the one caught staring this time.

“What’s wrong? Are you hungry?” she asked, still watching him with uncertainty.

Astarion did his best to shift his expression into a predatory look, a slow smile curving his lips. “Ravenous,” he purred, his voice low and seductive.

As if on cue, her cheeks flushed, and he felt his own throat tighten. The air between them crackled with tension, a sudden stillness charged with electric anticipation.

“Alright,” she said, her voice a little shaky as she closed her book. “You can feed from me, if you want.”

"I was so hoping you’d say that, darling." he replied, moving swiftly to position himself behind her.

There was always a certain eagerness he couldn't hide no matter how hard he tried. As if she'd rescind her offer if he took too long.

She began to shift onto her back, but he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Now, now, there’s no need to disturb your rest. I’m more than content to drink you in like this.”

She gasped as his cold breath ghosted over her ear, raising gooseflesh all over her skin.

"Are you sure it's comfortable?" she asked calmly, though he could feel the tremor in her voice.

“Of course. Just… perfect.” He deliberately spoke the words against her flesh, his lips brushing her skin with each syllable.

She fought the urge to squirm as his touch on her nape sent sparks of arousal down her body all the way to her core.

A visible shiver ran over her form, and he heard the quickening pulse of her blood as it flowed with every heartbeat. Anticipation surged through him, the melodic sound more inviting than a harpy's song.

His lips traced the delicate curve of her neck, a gentle caress that masked the primal hunger within. The hunger that made him feel both so powerful and so vulnerable.

He bit quickly, he always did. Always eager.

The pain was sharp, piercing but there was no force behind it, no pressure on her skin to tear or on her muscles to give in. Within a moment it faded as if it never happened and the only thing that remained was him. His lips still pressed against her neck, she felt them clearly now, felt the subtle movements of his tongue, the satisfied rumble in his chest as he drank, as well as the way his grip tightened on her hips, holding her close. She hadn’t even realized when his hand had moved there.

The moment was intimate. Deeply so.

The connection between them as she offered him a part of herself, a part of her life was something she never expected or could have prepared for. This profound closeness, this shared vulnerability, always made her stomach flutter and breath quicken.

And as much as he tried to cover it with flirtatious remarks she could see the truth in his eyes, how much it meant to him. It wasn't just sustenance nor was it just about satiating a need.

Desire pooled in her belly, hot and molten, making her head spin. Or maybe it was the blood loss that was responsible. Either way, she lay stock still, lust coursing through her, making her tremble.

She wanted more of him, inside her, around her, surrounding her until nothing else existed. In that moment, only he mattered; everything else faded away. The loneliness she carried everywhere she went, the horrors that they faced each day, the responsibility she felt towards everyone around her—she wanted to forget it all and simply feel him, just this, just them.

When he finally drew back, his lips stained crimson, the world rushed back, sobering her slightly.

Suddenly, he pulled her closer, bringing their bodies flush against each other.

She gasped at the hardness against her backside, twitching in the confines of his trousers.

“Astarion…” she whimpered.

He traced her earlobe with a slow, deliberate lick, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. The sensation made her arch against him, seeking more friction against the one spot she wanted it most.

"Do you want to go somewhere more private, darling? Somewhere we can indulge?” he murmured, rolling his hips sinfully against her. “ Or should I take you right here? In the middle of camp where anyone can see?" A faint whimper escaped her.

“I guess I have my answer,” he chuckled. His hand slid down her front, expertly unlacing her leather pants and pushing them past the delicious curves of her hips. His fingers slipped beneath her underwear and he reveled in the way she trembled in anticipation. Poor thing really was desperate for it.

At the first brush of his fingers against her clit, she hissed, biting her lip against the onslaught of stimulation. A sadistic impulse urged him to continue the teasing, to rub the sensitive nub again and again, wringing more pathetic whines out of her until she begged him to take her.

He’d never felt this desire with a lover before. It was always going through the motions, waiting for it to be over, the constant threat hanging over him. But here, in the middle of camp, he felt a strange freedom to indulge in this game, just a little.

“Astarion, please,” she whispered.

Mercifully he relented, lowering his hand to part her folds. There was barely enough space between her legs, trapped as they were by her pants but his fingers were dexterous enough to easily find their way inside her. She was eager, slick dripping and coating her thighs.

Her breath hitched as he started slowly pumping in and out of her.

“You're so wet, darling. I don't even need to lift a finger,” he murmured, hearing the quickening of her pulse in her neck,it's enticing call making his mouth water. “You've been on edge all day haven't you? Poor dear. I can give you what you need, but you have to ask for it. Do you want it?”

“I…”

"I want you," she admitted unabashedly. "Gods, I want you."

He chuckled behind her, satisfaction rolling over him in waves as he began to circle his finger, applying just enough pressure to send waves of pleasure rippling through her. Thiriann arched her back, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Then you shall have me, darling,” he whispered, his tongue tracing her earlobe.

He withdrew his hand, and she heard the rustle of his trousers as he unfastened them. Then, she felt the head of his cock slide slowly, agonizingly slowly, against her.

She keened at the sudden sensation before biting her lip trying to stifle her sounds. With her legs held tightly together by her leather trousers he felt so much bigger inside of her, stretching her walls and filling her completely.

He entered her fully, the force of their joining causing a rush of heat through her.

In this position his length could push right against the spot inside her that could drive her crazy. Unable to stop herself she moaned loudly as he finally bottomed out.

"Shh, darling. We wouldn't want to wake poor Karlach, would we?" he teased, but with some pride, she noticed he too sounded breathless.

Gods, Karlach was sleeping barely a few feet away from them. If she were to open her eyes, she'd see everything, there'd be no mistaking what activity they were indulging in.

A wave of arousal flushed over her traitorous body and she squeezed him, her walls gripping around him almost painfully.

Her hungry sex seemed to pull his cock deeper inside, and before he knew it, he had sheathed himself completely inside of her.

He let out a surprised whimper that flooded her body with heat.

She chuckled softly. “Yes, we really should try to be quiet.”

He growled at her teasing and bit her ear in retaliation. Her reaction was instantaneous as she arched her back and pressed her ass even more firmly onto him.

“Please, Astarion,” she whispered.

“Please what, darling?”

“Please… move.”

“I don’t think so, darling. I think I’ll make you come just like this, without moving a muscle.”

“Astarion…” she whined in disappointment but he only chuckled at her misery.

“You can do it, darling. Go on, touch yourself,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over her ear. The suggestion was deliciously vulgar.

She could, with the way he was pressing inside her stretching her so fully it would take her no time at all even.

Burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, she lowered her trembling hand between her legs. Her fingers brushed her swollen clit, and she mewed at the contact. Slowly, she began to circle it, applying gentle pressure. She’d never touched herself in front of anyone before, and a flicker of shame mixed with the rising pleasure.

Her body on the other hand was loving every second of it, ecstasy flooding her with every stroke as she felt herself squeezing around him tighter and tighter. Instinctively, her hips began to push back, impaling herself further on his cock, craving the friction. The closer she got to orgasm, the more desperate she became for him to move within her.

He grasped her hip, stilling her movement. “Ah-ah, no cheating, love.”

She whined again, the feel of his strong fingers gripping her skin causing a wave of anticipation to wash over her.

His cold breath against her neck sent shivers down her spine, heightening her sensitivity. She was so close, already fluttering around him. Every muscle tightened as she neared her peak. With a final sweep of her fingers, she moaned and toppled over the edge, squeezing him rhythmically as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her body.

He gasped against her neck, fighting the instinctive urge to thrust as her muscles clenched around him like a vise. But this little power play of his was way more delicious than he anticipated.

There was something rather fun about teasing her, pushing her buttons to see her squirm under his control.

Finally, she relaxed against him, quiet gasps of exertion escaping her lips.

“Good girl” he purred in her ear and she blushed at the praise. Before she could reply, he withdrew almost completely, then thrust back in, filling her to the hilt. She gasped loudly, and he quickly covered her mouth with his hand.

“Come now, darling,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “You didn’t think we were finished, did you? You deserve a proper reward.”

Her inner muscles tightened around him, welcoming him deep. With a few slow, deliberate thrusts, he felt himself nearing his own release.

He pulled back again, dragging his cock out until only the very tip of him inside, slick with the juices of her climax. He inhaled sharply, then pushed back in, his body flush against hers.

“Fuck,” he hissed, gripping her sumptuous ass to adjust her position, reveling in the warm heat of her contracting walls.

A sudden rustle of fabric tore through the night, startling them both. They froze, watching as Gale emerged from his tent and headed toward the woods.

Lazily Astarion began to move his hips once again, establishing a steady pace.

“Astarion!” she whispered, a mix of protest and arousal in her voice.

“What? He left.”

“He is going to come back!”

“Do you want to stop, darling?” he asked, still fucking her leisurely.

“No,” she breathed.

“Say it.”

“Please don’t stop, Astarion.”

“Good girl.”

In truth he didn't relish the idea of being caught like this. Intimacy in private was always preferred when he could.

But the little deviant in his arms seemed to love the idea. Tightening up around him at every rustle or creak in the night.

The danger of the moment seemed to heighten her sensitivity, amplifying every touch and sending ripples of sensation through her.

The wet sounds of their coupling echoed obscenely in the night. As Gale's footsteps got louder and louder Thiriann felt the rush of panic and arousal rise in her chest. Her heartbeat sped up enticing him with it's melody just as she started fluttering around him again.

She tried to stifle her gasps, but they escaped her lips as she neared her peak once more.

Her hand shot up desperately trying to muffle herself as she was sent careening to the edge.

With a final, exquisite touch, she cried out softly, her body shuddering.

The world narrowed to Astarion. His touch felt electric, every point of contact magnified.

She quaked through the aftershocks, each one less intense as she remembered how to breathe again.

“Thiriann?” Gale’s voice called out, breaking through her pleasured haze. “Hey, Gale…It’s me and… Astarion. He was… hungry,” she managed, fighting impossibly hard to keep her voice steady.

She could only pray his eyes make out what was happening between them in the dark.

“I see,” Gale replied. “Carry on, if you must. But I implore you to exercise a modicum of discretion in the future. Perhaps a more private location would be better suited for such activities.”

She had no idea how he could still be half asleep and carry out a lecture like that.

“Right. Sorry, Gale.”

Relief washed over her as Gale retreated into his tent, closing it firmly for good measure. She relaxed against Astarion’s chest, a blissful smile on her face and he felt his own lips tug upwards.

Brushing a sweaty stand of hair from her forehead he caressed her cheek and turned her face towards him.

“Did you enjoy that darling?”

“It was incredible.” she whispered, her smile widening. Something tightened in his chest at her happy expression and he leaned down taking her lips in his. She responded by gently pressing hers back, barely a kiss but it send a shiver through him. His ignored member twitched inside of her and she gasped into his mouth.

“You still haven’t…?” she murmured.

“Don't fret darling. It was plenty satisfying bringing you to ecstasy. It's all the fulfillment I need.”

“You can… continue, if you want. Until you finish,” she suggested shyly.

He hesitated before schooling his face into a more practiced, nonchalant expression. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable should this end up taking too long.”

“I don’t mind if it does,” she said softly. “Take your time. I want you to feel good.”

Those words struck him with unexpected force, cracking his carefully constructed facade. Two centuries, countless lovers, and not one had bothered saying those words to him before. A genuine desire for his pleasure, freely offered. It was disarming.

He nodded stiffly, looking away before resuming his movements. Focusing on her and her pleasure was the only thing he was used to, and he felt strangely adrift, unsure of how to proceed when the focus was meant to be on himself.

He wrapped both arms around her middle, pulling her tightly to his body, burying his face in the back of her neck.

She responded by gently holding his hands in hers as she began to move against him, her hips grinding against his, trying to help him along.

He chased his pleasure, the sounds of their lovemaking growing louder in the night. She was incredibly sensitive; each thrust sent a wave of pleasure through her, so intense it bordered on pain, yet the feeling of him growing thicker inside her, his moans vibrating against her neck, was pure unadulterated bliss.

Her quiet moans filled the air as his pace quickened. He was so close, so very close but that precipice was so hard to reach sometimes.

He rutted into her with a raw, almost wild abandon, his desperation becaming evident.

With an aborted, surprised gasp, he went hurtling over the ledge he’d been tiptoeing on since they began. He grunted and surged forward, burying himself fully within her as his seed spilled into her, finally releasing the tension that had been building within him.

White spots danced in his vision as he began to descend from the peak. Distantly he noticed her fingers were tracing idle circles on his arms as he slowly came down.

“Fangs?” Karlach’s voice, thick with sleep, cut through the night, making them separate instantly. “Bring me one of them boars you catch, okay? I’m starving…” she mumbled before rolling to her side and letting out a sleepy snore.

Astarion looked at her in disbelief and a touch of affront before he heard Thiriann snickering.

“I guess you’re on food duty tonight.”

He tucked himself back into his pants, shaking his head slightly at the absurdity of it all.

Gods, they’d fucked in the middle of camp like a pair of green youths. Even he had to admit he’d gotten a little carried away in his desire to tease her.

“Thank you, Astarion. I needed that,” she said, kissing his cheek.

It was a peck, barely a kiss really, a simple thank you. Yet it was sweet, almost as sweet as her blood. He had no idea what to do with it so he resorted to his practiced charm.

“You know where to find me if you find yourself in need of assistance in the future again, darling,” he said with a practiced, flirtatious smirk. “My tent is always open.”

And with that, he hurriedly walked into the woods.

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