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krysmcscience · 7 months ago

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It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

#fanart #comics #cult of the lamb #cotl #narilamb #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #cotl shitten #cotl mystic seller #cotl aym #cotl baal #aym and baal #this is why i have been especially quiet lately XD #even just the bonus stuff took several days to finish because i don't know the meaning of DOODLE anymore apparently #everything must be fully inked and colored with backgrounds I Fukken Guess #at least using medibang's sumi brush keeps me from focusing on making my lines perfect :\#and yeah i copy-pasta'd a lot of my own backgrounds don't at me bro #if you're on desktop and want to full view but don't know how: right click the image - open in new tab - zoom in as needed :)#feel free to ask questions about the AU if you want - but uh - this is basically the extent to which i've thought it through LOL #edit: oh right - aym and baal really out there assuming narinder already put the lamb's soul to rest so the body's just fodder now lmao #last edit i hope: fixed the transparent cult certified freak image 8|#nope - one more edit: there is one (1) loophole for how living mortals can be in the afterlife without dying #that loophole is currently narinder XD #'sorry universe but the god of death says i can be in here so back off with your rules and regulations'

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jilsthings-rb · 9 months ago

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CAN I GET AN AMEN IN THE HOUUSEEE YOOWWWWWWWWWWWWZAAAAAAAAA‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥💢🔥‼️‼️🔥🔥‼️💢‼️💢🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️🎉‼️🎉🎉🎉🎉‼️🔥💪🔥💪‼️💢🔥💢🎉🎉🎉🎉‼️‼️🔥🔥💢💢‼️‼️💢🔥💢‼️💢‼️💢🎉🎉🎉‼️🔥🔥

I Really Wanna Stay at Your House

Sypnosis: Pico invites Lara to sit down and talk with him. What she didn't expect is the reason for it.

Ship: Pico/Lara 💚🩷

Word Count: 3k

WARNINGS: Hurt/Comfort, Degradation (Pico @ himself, I need to save this man). Not sure what else so lmk!

Happy PicoLara Anniversary!!! The long awaited fic is finally here! Just as a little funfact but this was originally supposed to be a comic but the script got too long bc I kept writing... oops. So it's a fic now! Hope it's a good read still. I haven't written in a long while and this isn't completely proofread but enjoy still 🫶

DNI: prosh1p/comsh1p do not even touch this post.

May 13th, 2024. Monday afternoon. Today was their anniversary, and it was luckily a quiet and slow day. At least it was supposed to.

Pico finds himself seated on the couch, back slouched on the backrest, fiddling his fingers as he was staring at the ceiling. He was feeling nervous.

He wasn't usually like this most of the time, especially on days like these. But today was different, because today, he invited his girlfriend to sit down and talk with him because there was something important he wanted to mention. No, it wasn't about the anniversary– they were both fully aware of that already. It was something more personal to him, something that has been troubling him for quite a while now. He couldn't start on that conversation just yet though, because she wasn't there with him.

She was still in their bathroom cleaning herself up. He had knocked on the door prior to this– asking her to join him on the couch once she was done. She agreed of course, and now he was just waiting for her to finish. But as every second passed by, he was starting to get a little more restless.

He was alone with his thoughts for the time being, his mind swirling around the topic he wanted to talk about with her. It was terrifying, imagining all the made-up scenarios on how this one conversation he'll have with his girlfriend could go wrong. He should really try looking on the brighter side more often, but right now he can't.

Right now he feels his stomach twist and turn, and it almost makes him want to throw up. He clenches one of his hands into a fist until the knuckles turn white, forgetting his own strength of all things. He hates how uneasy he gets with simple confrontation, even though this wasn't a confrontation at all. It was really just a simple little talk. But the fear of it still gnaws at him from the inside out.

All those negative thoughts die once Lara enters the room.

"Hey, what's up?" She smiles, and it's as almost as bright as the sun that's shining through the window. Maybe if Pico stares hard enough, he could see the faintest outline of a halo right above her head.

He notes her appearance briefly. She's wearing shorts and a loose tank top. Her hair was slightly fluffed up, an effect of hair-drying such thick hair after taking a shower. She looked so relaxed and refreshed, and it makes his heart skip a beat. She looks so pretty.

Pico clears his throat as he finally loosens up, lifting one hand up to wave at her. "Hi, hey." He greets, and the words come out more quiet than he'd like. He feels like he's staring. He's definitely staring. It's so obvious to her that it makes her chuckle, the soft laughter finally snapping him out his trance.

"Here, take a seat." He moves to one side of the couch, making room for her to sit on.

Once she's seated, she looks at him expectantly. "So..." She starts, looking off to the side momentarily before returning her gaze on him.

Being on the spotlight like this makes a lump form in Pico's throat. There it was again, that sinking feeling of how this whole thing could go wrong. He clears his throat once more, pushing his fear back before speaking.

"So... about what I wanted to talk about." He pauses, trying to find the right words to describe the topic he has in mind. "It's... well, pretty serious."

"Did something go wrong?" She instantly asks. She tried to keep it casual, wanting to keep the light and airy atmosphere despite the topic (whatever it may be). But she couldn't stop the worry that slips in her tone when speaking, her protectiveness starting to override.

"No, no- everything's fine actually. I mean it as- this is really important, at least to me." He explains, and it makes her sigh in relief. He wouldn't want to give her a heart attack this early on.

"I'm listening."

"Well, you see... it's not really easy to talk about."

"Something personal?" She asks carefully, wanting to make sure she's not overstepping any boundaries. She knows he should know he can decline answering if it touches on something private.

"I guess you can consider it that way." He answers with a shrug, seeming unsure himself if it could be deemed as such.

"Well, whatever it is, take your time. I'm listening whenever you’re ready."

"Right, uhm..." He mutters, finding himself a lot more hesitant all of a sudden. He doesn't know why he still finds himself this way, scared to open up and be vulnerable still. The person across him has witnessed him at his complete worst. They've both been through hell and back for each other, yet there's still unease despite it all.

He gulps again, trying to swallow down his dread. "It's just..." He groans, and it frustrates him how complicated he's finding this. "It's- it's really not that easy. I-"

"Hey, it's okay." She immediately tries to reassure him, reaching out to hold him. Her hand rests gently on his arm, hoping it provides some form of comfort. "Like I said, take your time. But if you can't tell me then there's no need to force it-"

"But I want to tell you!" He cuts off, his face practically pleading. "I've been dying to tell you this and it's killing me, I-"

"Pico-"

"Lara," he grips her by the arms, white eyes staring straight into her own. "You are the love of my life and the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. You've stuck by my side after all this time even after everything. After every breakdown, argument, every time we'd wake up in the middle of the night because one of us had a nightmare. Even after I've hurt you-"

"So did I-" She's confused and startled. She wasn't expecting this yet she's still listening. She just couldn't help but butt in during that one sentence.

Pico huffs. "That's not the point. My point is that you still stayed. Stayed to love me, care for me. Made the best out of the fucking mess I am. Everything. And I just-"

"Pico-"

"You're everything. You're seriously fucking everything to me and I- I don't know where I'd be without you. Not here, not right now that's for sure. I'd probably- no, I'd definitely be dead sooner or later if you didn't come into my life."

"That's not true!"

"It is. It fucking is and you know it."

"Pico- please," she's the one pleading now, worried on where his words are going. Although she appreciates his adoration for her, she didn't want it to come at the cost of him demeaning himself. "I- you're shaking."

"You're just... I don't want to loose you." He admits weakly as he looks down, feeling his grip loosen when she moves his hands away. They're wrapped around hers now, slender and soft fingers cradling his shaky and calloused ones. He intakes a breath of air and it's an unsteady one. "I can't loose you."

"I'm not going anywhere, love. You know that." She responds, gripping his hands tightly into hers. "We've talked about this. I'll always be right here for you, just like you will for me."

"You're- that's not-"

"What? What's not? Explain it to me, I don't-"

"Fuck. Just-" He's exasperated now. He knows he's not making any sense and the conversation isn't going the way he wants it to. But he just can't bring himself to say the right words. The direct ones.

It's when he finally pulls a hand free from her hold, reaching into his pocket before dragging something out. He places the item on the palm of her hand, albeit a bit roughly.

"Just take it."

"Wh-" She's so much more confused now.

When she finally looks down and reluctantly opens her hand, she finds a small, golden colored band, with a shimmering stone encased neatly on it that she knows is worth thousands. It's settled gently on her palm, and that's when realization hits her.

He was proposing to her.

"Pico- This is-"

When she looks up to look at the ginger, she finds him facing away from her. He was trembling ever so slightly and... is that sniffling she hears?

Oh.

It makes her sigh, free hand reaching out to tap him gently on the shoulder. The action makes him flinch for a second, but she hopes it makes her lover look at her once more.

"Pico..." she says softly.

He slowly turns around to face her again, and that's when she sees it. The state of his face, eyes filled with tears that couldn't stop themselves from spilling, and the flush on his cheeks that was evident. This isn't the first time she saw him get this emotional, but the reasons for such a breakdown is different this time around. It makes her sigh again, reaching her free hand out to hold him.

"Oh, Pico... love..."

"'m sorry."

"Don't be."

She softly whispers, cradling his face now, letting her thumb wipe away some of his tears gently. It makes him instinctively lean into her touch, nuzzling into the palm of her hand despite the wetness. Soon enough, he moves closer, starting to embrace her now as he hides his face away into the crook of her neck. She lets him do so, the action second-nature as she moves her hand to his back now, starting to rub soothing circles on it.

"I could've worded this whole thing better." He mutters, his breath hitting her skin and making her hair tingle.

"You did fine."

"No I didn't. I'm such an idiot."

She sighs once more, a bit more frustrated this time. "You're not! You're the smartest person I even know honestly." She contends, not tolerating his degrading comments any longer.

"Seriously though, you did okay, I promise."

Pico merely stays quiet, gripping his hands a little tighter on her waist as he contemplates things. The silence takes over for a few minutes, but it doesn't bother her. Not one bit, at all. She'd wait for eternity on him if she needed to, but luckily she didn't have to when she hears his voice once more.

"You don't have to... y'know, say yes."

"Now why would I do that?" She tilts her head to try and look at him, even though the only thing she can really see is the back of his head.

He hums for a moment. "Multitude of reasons. Main one is that you aren't ready."

"Well, are you ready?" It felt redundant to ask such a question, considering he did just propose to her. But knowing him? She knows immediately that despite him taking initiative- he still had some reservations in doing this whole thing. She knows him like the back of her mind at this point, and it wouldn't exactly hurt to ask still.

Just as she expected, she feels the hands on her waist grip tighter for a moment, while the face that was hiding in the crook of her neck lets out a muffled answer. That was all she needed to know his true feelings. He was still hesitant.

"I'm taking that as a no, then?"

"No- I mean-" He finally looks up to her now, revealing his face from hiding. His eyes meets her once again and it makes him feel like he's caught red-handed. His voice was a bit more raspy and strained, but he cleared his throat before speaking again to let his words sound clearly.

"It was... hard. I thought about it a lot, so many times, for a long, long time." He admits now, his voice slow and almost quiet from the shame he feels. "Every time I thought of proposing, it scared me shitless. I didn't feel ready- I wasn't at all ready. But the more time flew past us, the more scared I got about losing you. Scared you'd get bored eventually with how long we're still dating. But it also felt too soon. But I still wanted to show you much you mean to me- how precious you are. But I'm still-"

"Hey. Hey, breathe. you're shaking again."

"Sorry, I-" He intakes a deep breath of air. When that wasn't enough, she guides him with a breathing exercise to help calm his nerves properly. When she sees he's finally relaxed, she speaks up.

"It's okay. It really is." She gives him a gentle smile, wanting to reassure him. "I can understand how hard this is for you, I'm not mad at you or blame you for feeling scared. But I want you to know I'd never get bored or leave you just because we've been dating for so long now. Do you really think I'd throw away all of this—what we have—just because you haven't proposed to me sooner?"

"No, but..." He trails off, realizing soon enough how she has a point.

It was purely paranoia on his part, clouding his common sense and reasoning. Even after all the progress they did to lessen it and make him feel safe in this relationship, the doubts still crawl back into his mind every now and then. Now is one of those moments. His face shows the inner conflict that he's going through, and it makes her frown. She places the ring in her hand on her side for a moment, before using that same hand to cradle his face fully to make him look at her again.

"I love you. I love you so much, Pico. I could care less when you'd propose to me, so please don't worry about it too much. Do it whenever you're ready."

"But I want to do it now. I want you to- I just want to show how you're everything to me. I don't want to push this back any further."

"So are you proposing now?"

His breath hitches, but he nods. "Yes."

"Then I do. I mean- sorry," she giggles, and it makes the ginger chuckle in response too. "I mean yes. Yes, I will marry you."

His features finally relax as it contorts to give out a relieved smile. His laughter becomes louder now, more joyful as he wraps his arms around her tightly. It pushes her back onto the couch with him on top of her now, still embracing her as he sounded and seemed so happy. It makes her laugh back in response, the laughter contagious.

"I'm glad. I’m so fucking glad..." He sighs, before pausing for a moment as he looks up to her. "Ah, where's the ring actually?"

"Oh, I set it down somewhere on the-"

"Found it." He says with a chuckle before lifting himself up from his fiancé now. Right, she was his fiancé now, and so was he to her. He could get used to calling her that.

He sits up properly to look at her now, and it makes her do the same. He holds out his hand to her, making her understand immediately and comply as she put her hand on top of his.

Slowly and gently, he slots the diamond ring into place, watching as it glimmers slightly. Once it was in place, Lara brings her hand up to admire it, shifting her hand in different angles as she observed the precious ring now wrapped around her finger. It makes her smile.

"It looks beautiful." She whispers.

"Glad you like it."

"Like it? I love it! But also... you shouldn't really have gotten me something so expensive."

He scoffs. "But you deserve it."

"I'm scared I might loose something so precious. The guilt of doing so would eat me alive."

"Nonsense. I'm sure it wouldn't slip off your finger that easily. How does it feel?" He eyes the ring closely now, running his thumb over the jewelry to check if he got the right size for her.

"Fits perfectly." She answers, and that alone makes his insides swell with pride.

"See? No need to worry. Even if you did loose it, I don't mind buying a new one."

"Pico!"

"Whaaat?" He shrugs innocently, but there's already a clear smirk on his face that he was anything but such. "Buying that one didn't even leave a dent in my savings. Surely another one wouldn't hurt." He says it so playfully that the angel couldn't help but just sigh.

"You're unbelievable."

"C'mon. Let me spoil you every now and then." He wraps her arms around her once more, gently guiding them both down to lay on the couch again. He nuzzles his face into her neck and it makes her laugh.

"It's not that- just..." She looks away as she hesitates on continuing, her cheeks heating up from the next few words she thought of saying. It only makes the ginger all the more curious, trying to encourage her to speak up. When she does, her voice is soft and quiet, and reasonably so.

"Save the rest of your money when we settle down, yeah?" She says sheepishly, but there's also a hint of sweetness to it. It doesn't help the gentle expression she has on that sets butterflies loose in his stomach.

"So soon?" He teases, although it did make his heart skip a beat just thinking about it. "Not like I can get more as extra."

"I'm just saying. Better to be safer than sorry."

"Fine, fine." He sighs playfully, surrendering to his lover's decision. He moves his head to be on top of hers now, pressing their foreheads together. There's that same adoration in his eyes as he whispers. "Love you."

She can't help but chuckle, smiling as she returns the same gaze. She feels her heart swell with the love she has for this man that it almost feels overwhelming. "Love you too." She replies, before feeling the soft press of his lips against hers.

She moves her hands upward to run through his hair, and it makes him smile during it. They'll be here for a while.

#OH MY HEAD HURTS MY HEAD HURTS IT IS THROBBING #LOOK IM GOING TO SKIP THROUGH YOUR SKILL IN WRITING BECAUSE LIKE EVERYONE SAYS ITS GOOD. I'M GOING TO GO PAST COMPLIMENTING #BECAUSE IM GOIGN TO ANALYZE THE WRITING VERY HARD WATCH ME WATCH ME WATCH MY TAG LIMIT WARNING IS IMPENDING BUT SO IS ME YELLING AT YOU #PICOFIOO MY BROTHERRRRR MY GREEN LOSER /LH OHYNHKOFDD I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THAT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#the way this was set up - i did not even think in the slightest that this was going to be a proposal because first of all it was AT HOME #and secondly he passes this off as a NORMAL CONVERSATION THIS BITCH IS TRYING TO PROPSE THIS IS A SPECIAL DAY FOR THE SPECIALEST LOVERS CMON #I DEFINITELY THOUGHT THIS WAS SOME SORT OF INTERVENTION - MAYBE EXPRESSING HIS WORRIED AND SHE'D BE COMFORTING HIM OR WHATEVER #because the way pico fuckig talked dude it felt like he was about to vent to her discord style/lh HE WAS ALREADY EMOTIONAL #BUT LIKE BORDERLINE AGGRESSIVE - HE HAD A WHOLE ROLLERCOASTER GOING ON he was like lara you are so important to me. -> I can't lose you ->#NO FUCKING LISTEN I CAN'T FUCKING LOSE YOU I SWEAR -> cries like a bebe wiwiwiiw sniff ue ue -> (he is actually proposing to her)#WHEN I TELL YOU I KEPT RAISING MY EYEBROW LIKE GOD JUST SAY IT ALREADY (I KNOW HE'S PROCESSING HIS EMOTIONS BUT FOR ME AS A READER I WAS-#- LIKE. OHMY GOD GET STRAIGHT TO IT I'M ITCHING TO KNOW WHAT'S THE CONTEXT OF THE CONVERSATION)#and then he says here take this and then my eyes nearly popped out of the socket HE DIDNT HAVE TO SAY IT HE HAD TO SHOW IT BITCHHHHH #TAKING IN ALL THISE CONTEXT CLUES (EMOTIONAL) (I CAN'T LOSE YOU) (TAKE THIS) IT'S A FUCKING RING BITCHHHH!!!!!!#BY THE WAY AT THE LITERAL MOMENT I READ “here take this” and understood - I /GEN YELLED LOUDLY MY MOM GOT SCARED AND ALSO TOTO RIP DOGGIE #hes an emotional trainwreck bro he cant even help himself with it thank the HEAVENS ( ha. ) she was prepared to say yes #genuinely enjoy his quick recovery - all he needed was her to say something and it was something he was aching to do but was afraid -#but she was quick to say yes and just have him released from his anxiousness like he recovered fast but it's not funny because its beautiful #he really needed that #she was very chill (and she did intend to not come off as intimidating) about this whole thing and even abt the dating for years topic #its never too late to propose to someone and id argue the dating phase is really important because you need to know that you trust them -#and thats ironically the most difficult part in relationships so pico my guy nothing wrong with waiting. she is never bored of you ya #so does that mean you're bumping him to the fiance title? or it's just for the fic? like you're putting him on the same tier as teppei #I MEAN THEY'RE IN THE SAME TIER OF LOVE BUT I KNOW PICO IS LABELLED “DATING” AND TEPPEI IS “MARRIED” - PICO FIANCE NOW?#WELL ANYWAY 😭😭 I WAS THERE TWO YEARS AGO AND THEY'RE STILL ACTIVE AS EVER 🩷💚🩷💚🩷💚 YEHEYYYYYY 😭😭😭😭 BLESS THEM SMMM #content : writing #dynamic : romantic #user : lara #fandom : fnf #this is the 30th and last tag i can write in hello

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cowboygenesis · 5 months ago

Text

18+ knuckle up | astarion x reader

summary: after a drunken night and a dumb bet you're left in an emotional (and physical) chokehold by your favourite vampire companion.

pairing: astarion ancunin x afab!bard!reader tags: 18+, smut, fluff, switch dynamics, m/f, fingering, unprotected sex, resolved tension, playfighting, sex after training session. word count: 7.8k notes: this fic was SO fun to write even if im a gale girlie myself. this is my first attempt at writing ANY bg3 character, so i really hope i did okay. if not, let me know! comments help me improve my writing (and warm my heart, seriously, thanks to anyone taking the time out of their day to comment). anyways gang, no beta as ALWAYS, you know how we roll. ENJOY! masterlist.

It still made little sense to you.

You had honed your skills at the most prestigious music schools in Faerûn for years, pouring your heart into every note, every chord, only to find yourself shamelessly ridiculed for an entirely different kind of performance. And by a man you’d grown to like, no less.

"Get up, darling," Astarion’s voice drips with amusement, the self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips with infuriating smugness. His crimson eyes watch you with a predatory glint, locking onto your vulnerable form sprawled in the dirt—a definitive result of his frustratingly agile moves.

You groan lowly, propping yourself up on bruised elbows, wincing as a dull ache pulses through your body. A stray lock of hair falls in front of your face, and you blow it away in frustration.

"I’m starting to think this isn’t educational at all." You glare at him with all the venom you can muster, eyebrows furrowed as his arms cross.

Your eyes absentmindedly scan down his body, taking note of his slightly disheveled shirt and tousled hair. He looks… good. Beautiful, even. Basking in the soft moonlight seeping through the vast greenery above, he stands there like he’s in his element.

He chuckles, seemingly unbothered by your vapid tone. "Oh, but it is, my dear. Think of it as a new, humbling experience. Valuable in its own right."

You bite back a retort as he offers you a hand, his expression making your eye twitch. You never thought you’d fall for arrogance, yet ironically it’s your own conceit that might have brewed your upcoming downfall.

After a particularly boisterous night of drinking in camp—brought on by the recent victory over a pack of gnolls—you foolishly accepted Astarion’s challenge to best him in hand-to-hand combat. Your alcohol-addled brain had been more confident than your body, and now, after a series of harsh jabs and sidesteps, you were being taught the harsh reality of “real” combat.

Defeated, you eventually obliged a quick lesson from the master himself, which he had (admittedly suspiciously) made you take after losing your bet.

At the very least, the bruising would rid you of your lingering hangover once you were done taking the thrashing. Plus, you hoped it would bring you two closer. Figuratively and physically.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your hesitation. "Come now, my dear, don’t be so stubborn. You seemed so eager at first,"

"You told me you’d teach me to fight, not fall on my damn face," you lament, but begrudgingly accept his help, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

His grip is firm, and the coolness of his skin sends a small jolt of electricity down your spine. You had often imagined what holding his hand would feel like during the colder nights alone in your tent, and while the circumstances ended up being less than ideal, it was good enough for you. For now.

You rub at your sore arm with a frown and catch that Astarion, unmistakably, stands completely unscathed, his pale complexion almost glowing in the ambient light.

"I’m thinking…” he muses, glancing at the weathered lyre resting peacefully by the roots of a tree. His lips curl into a smirk, and you can feel the teasing jab sting your pride. “Perhaps you’re better suited to the more... delicate aspects of life,"

Your jaw clenches. While bards famously went underestimated— a fact you were reminded of frequently— it hurt more coming from someone you so badly wanted to fuck.

"Oh, I don’t know," you say with a saccharine tone, brushing the residual dirt from your pants; your favorite pair, yet you’d probably end up having to toss them out after your poor performance today. "I think a harp string could make a fine garrote in the right hands."

Astarion’s laughter rings out clearly, and your heart skips a beat unbeknownst to you. "Dully noted. Fortunately for the both of us, we’re stripped of any weaponry in our current pinnacle."

Your eyes roll, running a hand through your disheveled, sweat-slick hair and adjusting your posture to the one he had taught you: one foot forward, back straight.

"Again," you demand, squaring your shoulders. If he wanted to mock you, fine— but you wouldn’t go down without a proper fight.

Astarion’s eyes widen, but his smirk never falters. He sighs in faux exasperation but quickly matches your posture. "So eager to be tossed into the dirt again, darling."

Your face flashes with heat at his painfully languid remark, your mind going places it probably shouldn’t. You knew the pet names were simply an inherent part of his vocabulary and that he used them generously, with everyone, yet a part of you liked to imagine they were reserved for you, and you only.

“Try me again,” you reply curtly, lowering your gaze as you feel the tension sprawling through your aching body.

He shoots you an arrogant smirk, his gaze penetrating your soul with an intensity you didn’t think possible. He bares his fangs, licking over his bottom lip lazily. “Let’s see it, then.”

Astarion approaches, but this time, you’re ready. As he moves to close the distance, you anticipate the first jab, ducking low before he can catch you off-guard. You dart to the side, aiming a swift thrust toward his midsection. It’s clumsy and unpracticed, but it seems to work.

Your fist connects with his toned stomach. He topples off-balance, but only for a fleeting second. His reflexes are too sharp, too honed through his century-long life for you to overcome with your pitiful attempt.

He catches himself with a graceful pivot, turning the stumble into a curt spin that has him facing you once more.

"Fast learner, are we?" he muses, watching you closely through his fists. "I might actually have to try now."

"Don’t flatter yourself," you shoot back, heart racing. At that moment, you recognize you can’t win. Not this time, probably not the next. But you don’t want to forfeit, even if it means enduring a day or two of terrible muscle soreness.

Every sidestep, every deflected blow, brings you closer, the air between you growing heavy with static. You aren’t sure if it’s the heat of the fight or the dangerous proximity, but you can feel it—an irresistible, undeniable pull.

"Careful now," Astarion purrs as you barely miss his face with a rugged swing. He catches your wrist, holding it tight as he leans in, breath ghosting over your ear. "You wouldn’t want to harm me, would you?"

You swallow hard, your body tensing under his tight grip. The closeness is intoxicating, but you force yourself to stay focused, pushing back against the growing heat in your chest.

"Maybe I would." You don’t.

For a moment, neither of you move. The world seems to narrow, the charged atmosphere thick with tacit suspense. You can feel your pulse hammering in your throat, senses sharp, attuned to every breath he takes as they intermingle with yours.

"Darling," a dramatic pout creeps onto his lips, only to be replaced by a sly grin seconds later. You feel his grip on your wrist loosening just enough for you to slip free. It’s a calculated move, once he grants you himself. "You wound me with your words."

You take a step back, breathless. This isn’t over, not by a long shot, yet your muscles fight against that thought. They scream at you with pain, worn and stretched by what feels like hours of sparring.

“Sounds like you’re the one trying to wound me,” you taunt, shooting him a lowered gaze. “Why’d you take me out here? Trying to make your next kill less obvious?”

The vampire had insisted you two train away from the bustle of camp, even if it meant missing out on tonight’s feast. While the rest of your companions enjoyed the finest ale Baldur’s Gate could offer, you were stuck trying to prove something to your crush.

Astarion's grin widens, his eyes flashing with amusement as he takes a slow, calculated step forward. “Now, now,” he purrs, voice dripping with mock innocence. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have seen it coming— no need for childish theatrics.”

You hold his gaze, refusing to let him see the slight tremble in your legs from the strain of the sparring—or maybe it’s from something else entirely, you can’t be sure. You know he’s dangerous, that this game you’ve been playing with him has always had its sharp edges. But there’s something about that edge, about the way he dances so easily between teasing and threatening, that weakens your knees and makes you breathless every damn time.

"Then why are we here?" you challenge, taking a step back to match his forward one. Your voice is steady, but your pulse is hammering in your throat. The woods feel like a world apart from camp, the sounds of chatter distant as you sit in your isolated little bubble of the world. “It’s a little… intimate, don’t you think?”

Astarion tilts his head, studying you with a curious twinkle in his crimson eyes. “That sharp tongue again,” he says quietly, “Do you truly believe I’d go through all the trouble of bringing you out here just to end you? If I wanted your death, I’d make it enjoyable for both of us.”

Your breath catches at his words. His words drip with venom, but somewhere deep down, in the depths of his blackened heart, you swear you feel an instance of temptation.

“What’s the game then?” you ask, holding his gaze despite the anxiety twisting in your chest. “Because by the Gods, I know you love those.”

Astarion’s smirk softens, but the intensity in his eyes never falters. He steps closer again, until there’s barely any space between you, his presence intoxicating. “Maybe I just wanted to see what you’re capable of,” he murmurs, his voice low and velvety. “Maybe I wanted to see how far you’d let me push you before you push back.”

His hand hovers near yours, fingers brushing lightly against your skin, but he doesn’t make full contact.

“And maybe,” he continues, leaning in just enough that his breath grazes your cheek, “I’m curious what could happen once we both stop playing.”

Your heart is racing now, and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the sparring or the charged air between you that’s making your head spin a hundred miles an hour.

“You’ll never know,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with a boldness you don’t quite feel. “Because I’m not backing down from this.”

His grin widens at your rebellion, and with a swift, fluid motion, the man’s playful smirk turns into a vicious one. Before you can react, he spins you around, movements smooth and practiced, making you lose your balance.

Your back hits his chest, and within seconds he wraps one arm around your neck in a tight headlock— his grip is firm, but not painful. Your mind strays to his other arm, feeling it press against your waist to keep you securely against him.

“Such a feisty little thing,” he purrs into your ear, his breath warm against your sweat-slick skin.

You struggle against his hold, trying to twist free, but his grip is relentless. “Fuck you,” you manage to scowl, though the words are strained by the pressure on your throat.

Astarion chuckles softly, and you feel it reverberate through your body. “Oh, she bites back,” he teases, his voice a dark, seductive buzz. “Are you taunting me, darling?”

You try to shift your weight, to find a way out of the headlock, but his grip doesn’t waver. “You’re projecting,” you growl breathlessly.

“And you’re persistent,” he replies, “Suits you well.”

You feel a warmth spread through your belly, tickling your nerve endings and making your thighs squeeze. You thank the Gods he can’t see your flustered face right now.

And suddenly, he releases. Not fully, but his grip weakens enough to allow you a moment to slip out again, stumbling over your own feet as you face him.

“Here’s your second freebie,” he chuckles, getting into position again. “Careful, next one might come at a price.”

“Like I need a third one,”

You recalibrate, then in the spur of the moment, pounce. Your arms extend as they barrel toward him. His eyes widen, but he manages to catch them mid-air; his hands clasping into yours and pushing against you.

“Fair strategy,” he commends, and you sense it might at least be partially earnest. “Desperate, but fair.”

You strain against him, breath hitching when he periodically pushes back. Whenever he does, you feel his gaze boring into you with a crazed intensity.

Then, you try not to think about the fact your digits fit together really damn well— and fail. Take what you can get, right?

“What’s wrong, my dear?” he sneers, slender fingers tightening around your palm. He leans in, your chests threatening to collide. “Getting distracted?”

You grit your teeth, leaning in with your full body weight, but he barely budges. “You wish,” you shoot back breathlessly.

“I feel it,” he corrects in a whisper, leaning in just enough that his lips hover dangerously close to your ear. “It’s in your eyes. You’re not even thinking about our little lesson anymore, are you?”

Your breath hitches at his words, the undoubted truth in them cutting through the haze in your mind. He’s right. The bet, your lesson —somewhere along the lines, your sparring posture went lax. All that matters to you now is the palpable closeness, your hands in his, and his hot, idle breath on your neck. Your throat threatens to cast a strained groan, but you withhold.

“I—” you start to protest, but your voice falters. His chest is now pressed flush against yours, pushing you forward.

“Admit it,” he murmurs, his voice low, seductive. “And I’ll let you win.”

Your hands tremble in the small space they lock with his, the smoldering red of his gaze telling you he knows exactly what he’s doing—how his actions leave you a mess in body and soul.

“I won’t, I— I can’t,” you manage to stutter, but the words sound weak and unconvincing even to your own weary ears.

He chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through you like a slow current. “Liar,” he whispers, and you catch a glimpse of his pearly fangs in your hazed peripherals. “Not a good one, either. Another thing I should school you on.”

Your eyes roll, but the implication accelerates the growing tension within your guts. “Just how generous you are.”

His head tilts gradually, and you go pale as you catch his tongue running along the length of his bottom lip.

“No, darling,” he purrs, “I haven’t shown you generous just yet.”

And then, you catch his eyes darkening. There’s a certain mania to them when they widen, pupils blown out like a cat’s when he suddenly pushes firmly against you. Your feet stumble backward, staring into him as a wild grin plasters on his face.

You yelp when you lose balance, lips ajar and eyes closed shut as you feel your back crash into something soft, or at least, soft enough to leave you un-bruised.

When your eyes flutter open, he’s on top of you. You study his broad shoulders, the pale neck between them, and finally let your half-lidded gazes connect in a silent, tension-filled juncture.

The ambiance of dusk quiets down to a soft murmur, crickets chirping in the distance as his strong body hovers inches above you, hands placed firmly around your wrists to successfully lock you in place.

“Seems to me you’ve lost our little bet,” he purrs out, and your breath hitches as one of his legs slides between yours, slowly inching to put a distance between your knees.

All you can do is stare up at him hungrily, desperately, drinking in his weathered features and pray he’d let you run your fingers through his flaxen locks at some point in the night.

“No clever retort? That’s not the little bard I know and love,” he teases, and your hips almost buck into him at that one word. You know he doesn’t mean it, yet your teeth still clench when your body jolts in response to his familiar lilt.

“You’re playing dirty,” you finally breathe out, cringing at how strained your voice sounds as you lie under his weight.

“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” he retorts, his crimson gaze boring into you before gradually disappearing into your neck.

His lips hover over your skin, hot breath tickling the soft spot near your pulse point as you gasp quietly. You feel him hesitate, arms tensing and releasing over your own as if soaked in apprehension. You strain your muscles, eyes shutting in preparation for the inevitable, sharp bite coming onto your poor vein. Gods, was this his plan all along?

But then, you feel the grip on your wrists loosen.

Your eyes flutter open, and you quickly catch the tousled white locks in your neck as the vampire looms over you.

“Here’s your chance to run,” he hitches, and somehow he sounds just as out of breath as you do.

You lie on the blanket of moss, chest heaving and gaze tracing languidly over the treeline as you feel your body go limp. He’s giving you one last opt-out before… before something happens, be it a bloody massacre or... Or?

Your mind shrieks at you: take advantage, prove yourself on top in this stupid bet— but the little voice in your heart urges you to stay under his firm body; find out if your instincts rang true after all.

You stay. Not only that, but you let your hands slip out of his, one of them snaking down his shoulder while the other runs through his waves. They’re silky, and soft, and when you catch a whiff of rosemary in the air, your grip tightens.

“Astarion,” you whisper, voice surprisingly steady as your heart beats a constant rhythm into the space between you.

His body jerks abruptly, albeit subtly, and you feel him smirking— smiling— into the soft flesh of your neck. “So I was right, after all.”

His face withdraws from you slightly, the residual condensation of his warm breath leaving you shivering. You catch his gaze, half-lidded and scanning your expression with apt concentration.

“Feisty, spirited little thing,” he continues, inching towards you again.

Your stiff body jerks, grazing against him as your shaky hand snakes to his cheek. You cradle it gently but with urgency, and there’s a beat of silence before you finally understand what to do.

You inhale softly, catch his questioning gaze, and crash your lips onto his.

He groans softly when you meet in the middle, lowering himself with his arms. Your chest thrums with the beat of your heart, shooting waves of dopamine down your worn spine.

When you feel his nimble hand on your jaw, your lips part with a sigh. He matches your buzz with his own self-satisfied murmur, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

You smile. He’s sweet and bitter, and you whine gently into the kiss when you recognize brandy on his tongue.

This is what you’ve been waiting for all these lonesome months.

The culmination dawns on you like a powerful current, making your eyes squeeze and your hands tremble in his waves.

He seems to notice your tremor, but instead of slowing down or (Gods forbid) stopping, he dives deeper. You moan into his mouth as he wriggles a hand around your waist, holding you close to his hips and suddenly, you feel a steady pressure grinding into your crotch.

The movement is slow, precise, practiced. His hips buff into yours in a controlled rhythm, making you sense his already taut erection through the thick material of his linen pants.

“Do you get it now, darling?” he murmurs, breaking the kiss to stare lazily into your glassy eyes. “Look what you do to me.”

His hand snakes to your blouse, and before you can register what’s happening, you hear three ivory buttons pop off followed by the cool, evening breeze tickling your heated skin. You don’t need to open your eyes to know your nipples are standing taut in the chilly air, yet the image makes you redden.

“How— how unceremonious,” you croak out, moaning softly when his large hand begins palming at your right breast.

His thumb and forefinger squeeze at your erect nipple, toying with it in smooth, tactile movements and relishing the way his name sounds coming out of your kiss-swollen lips.

“Mm, forgive me,” he chuckles darkly, planting a quick, ardent kiss on your lips before lowering his face to your chest. His tongue licks a slow, tender strip up your sternum before he looks up to smile at you; it’s a genuine look of satisfaction, untouched by the plague that is his faux arrogance. “I’ll make sure to be good next time.”

’Next time?’

You look at him lazily, gaze puzzled and lips ajar to ask but he doesn’t even offer you the chance. His hand dips from your tits to the band of your pants, sliding underneath it with his finger, the coolness of his skin making you gasp.

His mouth assaults your other nipple with sucks, nibbles, and gentle bites, making you mewl under him as his hand continues to travel down the soft flesh of your thigh. He rubs it gently, lovingly, starting under your hip and slowly stroking his way toward the inner region, where you’re most sensitive.

“Divine,” he mumbles against your chest, pressing a kiss to your rib. “So divine.”

His free palm moves to your exposed belly, massaging it gently. You sigh at the slow, consistent pressure, moving your trembling hand to the back of his neck.

When your one eye pops open in curiosity, you see him snug against your body, face contorted with empathic fixation as he labors down your body. It’s intimate, yes, but also… loving. His tongue is warm against your breast, and his palms caress your skin with slow, delicate strokes; the same hands you’ve seen wield blood-soaked daggers and longbows.

He runs two digits along the stretchy fabric of your bottoms, lip caught between his teeth. He catches you staring and smirks up at you.

“Enjoying yourself?” he husks out, and you’re desperate enough to nod wordlessly.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, hand smoothing down the waistband of your panties that peers from behind your bottoms. Not even your cutest pair, but oh well. He doesn’t even seem to notice, as his digits play with the elastic.

You’re already so exposed, but nothing can prepare you for what he does next.

With a few more kisses to your breasts, he tugs at the two waistbands, pulling down your pants and panties in one go.

The material slides off your legs and you hiss out, feeling the coolness caress your slick core. Your hands instinctively reach to cover up, but you’re stopped in your tracks by a strong grasp around your wrist.

“Oh no, no,” He looks up at you with an arched eyebrow, and somehow, despite his collected mien, you catch a soft dusting of pink across his cheekbones. “Don’t you dare deny me this view. Not after I’ve waited for so long.”

Your face heats up at the brazen comment, but that only seems to draw him closer. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and he takes the hint immediately.

You connect in a heated kiss, and this time, Astarion is the one groaning against you. You work in tandem, like a gentle, effortless dance, heavy breaths intermingling in a sweet symphony of hums and sighs when…

You feel a touch against your heat. The contact is almost impalpable, yet your eyes flutter open in shock as the man’s fingers trace over your slit.

He withdraws from your kiss, hovering inches from your lips with a soft smile.

“S’unfair,” you slur, gazing up at him with a pleasure-drunken gaze. He exhales loudly, and you gasp. His fingers dip in, rubbing slow circles around your clit. “You— Gods—”

“Yeah? Tell me,” he taunts lowly, continuing his torturously languid movements with a devious smirk plastered on his perfect face. “What’s got you so bothered, my sweet?”

He dips down, teasing your entrance with his index. You pant softly at the prolonged stimulation, trying your damn best to stay focused on furrowing your eyebrows in mock anger.

“Got me so exposed and—” you trail tensely as his finger probes your entrance. “—And you’re still in your damn clothes.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but you doubt he’s even listening to you by how he surveys your body, bottom lip caught between his fangs. “I’m about to show you ‘generous’, like I promised.”

And then, he bottoms out. You moan, feeling two of his digits sliding into you, the slickness of your opening making it an easy feat.

You squeeze around him, and he pumps into you once, then twice for good measure. The sound of his movements is unbelievably and utterly obscene, making your stomach knot in delight.

“So wet already,” he purrs through a smirk, watching you writhe under him, “Don’t tell me our little sparring session got you this bothered.”

You roll your eyes, thighs squeezed tight around his wrist as you move your hips in tandem with his rhythm.

“Come on, talk to me,” he taunts again, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and letting his fingers fuck you in a steady, purposeful rhythm. “Now’s not the time to get coy.”

He switches gears, stopping his movement so he can curl his fingers inside you. He presses against the sweet spot, his thumb reaching to simultaneously rub slow circles against your swollen clit.

You cry out at the newfound pressure, the warmth in your belly twisting into a vortex of fiery delight.

“I—” you mewl against him, wrapping your fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt. “I’m gonna— c-cum—”

His movements quicken at your desperate words, digits working hard against your favorite spot.

“Cum then, my darling,” he taunts firmly, his free hand roaming under your jaw and holding it in place. “Cum for me. Let me— let me look at you, sweet thing.”

Your glassy eyes struggle to focus on his face, but once they do, he hits something white-hot inside you.

His lips crash desperately onto yours, but you struggle to kiss him back through the blinding pleasure of your climax. It thunders down your legs, up your belly, making you cry out against his mouth as everything melts away into a wonderful oblivion.

The last thing you see before your muscles go lax is red.

He rubs your clit methodically through your high, letting you ride it out peacefully as he burrows into your neck again.

When your breath steadies, you feel his fingers slowly withdraw. The emptiness that follows makes you cry out softly, helplessly watching as the man runs his palms up and down your sides.

He presses a soft, soothing kiss against your swollen lips, and you can’t help but glare when you see that he’s still fully dressed, even after your heated orgasm.

He catches your pouting and raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, darling?” he purrs, pulling away to take you all in. You’re caught speechless when his hungry gaze scans down your nude body; starting at your smitten face and ending with a lingering glimpse at your spent pussy.

“Please,” you mewl out, raking your hands down his clothed abs. “Gods— Please take these off, I can’t—”

He does.

His hands momentarily withdraw from around you, and with a swift, deft move, he tosses his shirt off.

The silken cloth comes flying into the night like a phantasmal figure, and you watch it catch onto a stray branch to your right.

Your gaze skims hungrily down his sculpted body, watching his muscles tense and release with every little movement. Yes, you’ve seen him shirtless before, yet the context of your current predicament somehow makes it feel like it’s the first time all over again.

Unbeknownst to you, his hands work at his bottoms, swiftly unbuttoning the waistband and letting it sit loose against his hips. You catch a soft, white trail against the edge of his undergarments, leading down to a straining, tented mess below.

Your hand reaches out absent-mindedly, still drunk off the high of your climax and so, so desperate to finally feel him for yourself.

“Not so fast, darling,” he scolds, gently slapping your hand away and letting it wither at your side.

“Let me touch you,” you retort desperately, but he only chuckles as his fingers begin working at his waistband.

“You lost our bet,” he explains, sliding a thumb under the elastic and letting it lower. You catch the very base of his straining erection, and that taunting alone makes you gasp. “Gives me the upper hand.”

“Says who?” you hiss under your breath, failing to give him the glare he deserves as your eyes bore into his.

He gives you a once over, gaze drawing languidly over your exposed body, and only then does the extent of your nudity finally dawn on you.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

You shift under him, shimmying within the small space he allows, and he takes your brief distraction as a moment to unravel his pants completely. They drop to the ground behind you, leaving him in his undergarments, and you bite your lip at how dangerously lax they sit around his hips.

“I think I’ve left you waiting long enough,” he mutters, and your lips go ajar.

The thumb hooked into his briefs starts sliding down his waist, lower and lower until you’re finally even in terms of undress— and you’re ever so starstruck by the sight of his bulging cock hovering over your belly. It stands thick and taut within arm’s reach and you find the fact makes your mouth water.

Then, before you can think of touching him, you feel him place either hand below your knees. He looks up at you with a sly smirk, and you gasp softly when he pushes your thighs flat against your torso, feet in the air and scandalously exposed in front of him.

“You’re playing with me,” you mutter breathlessly, hissing as you feel his length stroking against your inner thigh.

His arms compress you tighter as you feel him lowering, the underside of his cock slapping against your tummy. The gasp that leaves your throat at the sudden contact widens your eyes, and he catches your gaze with his self-satisfied one.

“Do you like that I’m playing with you?” he follows up without a beat, his hips rutting forward. The movement is gentle, yet the pressure is enough to make you whine out in desperation— it’s also the only answer you manage to choke up for him before his cock slides between your wet folds.

“A-Ah— you fucking— fucking prick,” you hiss at the vampire, and so he bears his fangs at you through a wide grin. You find that it makes your breath hitch even amidst your despair.

“Now, now,” he reprimands, words syrupy, “bold words coming from someone so vulnerable.”

His nails dig into the soft flesh of your legs as he slides back and forth, taking meticulous care so that the head of his cock butts against your clit with every dip. The stimulation feels electric, and soon enough, you feel your still-sensitive body ramp up with heated energy for a second time this night.

A minute passes, yet it feels like an eternity. The air between you is thick with tension and the soft, repetitive harmony of your strained moans and his little gasps. You watch his eyes close in concentration, and despite his otherwise relaxed facade, you can tell he’s struggling to resist you by the way his eyebrows knit in the middle.

“Fuck me,” you breathe out, one of your hands extending to claw at his withholding forearm.

When your gazes meet, he looks surprisingly spent; eyes glassed-over, mouth ajar, and the slightest hint of sweat glazing his pale forehead. You realize that his domineering act seemed to come at the expense of his stamina: a resource you had slowly replenished in your comfortable position.

“Not— not yet, darling,” he hitches out, but the words appear tender and helpless to your trained ears. “I— I want to enjoy this— enjoy you—”

Your grip on his forearm tightens, making the bucking of his hips stutter. His eyebrow raises at your touch, but before he can shoot you a witty comment, you’re pushing him forward.

It happens within seconds.

Your knees straighten, feet slamming into his abdomen. He coughs at the sudden, unexpected impact, and you take the opportunity to grab tight onto his forearms. He falls backward, and just before his spine hits the soil beneath, you use the momentum to push yourself onto him.

When his eyes flutter open, you’re straddling his waist.

He blinks in brief confusion, surveying his surroundings before the crimson gaze finally turns to you.

He surveys your face, and you let him. The moment is like a silent meditation, heavy breaths intermingling as he takes your raw beauty in; the longing in your eyes, the soft dusting of pink across your nose, and ultimately, the plush of your lips he had ravaged mere moments ago.

Next, he moves to your body. His eyes scan down your taut nipples, down your tummy, and to the softness of your thighs squeezing his midriff to the ground. When he reaches the junction between your bodies, your hips buck as if on instinct.

“My, just how courageous we are,” he purrs under you, hands reaching to rub down the outside of your thighs. “I wouldn’t be so nice about your dirty tricks if I didn’t find this view thoroughly delectable.”

You shiver at his honeyed words, yet your gaze stays determined on him. Your palms go to rest atop his, marveling at the eccentric softness of his knuckles and the polarizing edge of the nails.

“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” you grin playfully, rocking your hips back to feel his hard length against the curve of your ass. When a soft hiss escapes his lips, you feel your ego inflate. “Sound familiar?”

His eyes roll, but the grin creeping onto his lips deceives him immediately.

His head tilts at you, fangs bearing in the soft moonlight. “You’re trouble.”

The mischief of your smile spins into a warm fondness. Your cheeks warm, and your heart swells, but you don’t quite understand why. “Oh how rich that is coming from you.”

And then you’re rising on your knees, hips hovering over his throbbing erection. Your palms connect, digits intertwining with his as you lower yourself onto him.

You test the waters first, letting his tip brush over your slit with feather-like touches. You hum gently at the teasing pleasure, and so does Astarion.

When you feel your tummy tightening with anticipation, you dive in. With a light shimmy, you line your hips with his, and with more desperation than you planned, you slide down.

You both hiss as the head of his cock penetrates you, the stretch making your palm tighten against his. You bend at the knees, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim after such a long, lonesome time.

Finally, you let your hips slam against his. The sudden, harsh movement makes you gasp out into the tantric air as his tip pokes against your womb. The dull pain quickly shifts into a flat, resonant pleasure, and you waste no time.

Your hips begin to buck against his, building a slow, steady rhythm until you’re confidently riding your vampire lover with a self-satisfied smirk on your lips.

Each thrust makes you mewl, moan, and cry out into the night, that pleasant angle of his cock hitting that same spot his fingers did just minutes ago.

His head rolls back into the ground, and with the remnants of his energy, he issues an occasional, quick rut into you. As it’s rare, you decide to savor it. You squeeze around him with the thrusts, and soon, you feel yourself running out of breath.

“I— I could let you do this for—hells— forever,” he hisses out, and suddenly, you feel his hands unclasp from yours and snake around your waist. “Where have you been all these centuries?”

Your upper body is dragged forward, your tits colliding with his toned chest when he pulls you into a tight, possessive embrace.

You gasp at the warmth between you, and your eyebrows soon furrow when you realize the position limits your hip movement. As you’re forced into a pause from your delirious riding, his lips crash onto yours.

Your tongues share a private, slack dance, heads tilting to adjust as you both hum and groan into the fiery kiss. You attempt to rut into him, and soon enough he gets the hint.

Keeping you immobilized against his chest, his hips pound up into you. The first few smacks are scandalously loud, and you revel in the newfound angle.

You’re lost in him, completely and utterly. When he moans, you respond with a hum— when his embrace tightens around you, you kiss him harder.

The familiar, fiery heat in your tummy bubbles up again. You feel it amp up, grow, and send jolts up your spine when suddenly, you’re being pushed up. When your eyes flutter open, you catch his still closed.

His chest stays firm against yours as he positions you upright, letting you straddle his hips as you’re both left sitting in the soft patch of grass and wildflowers.

With your body regaining its mobility, you start grinding against him again. The position allows for a deliciously intimate closeness, his cock burrowing deep into you as you resume riding him.

The pressure within you grows, emerging as a knot— threatening to unravel with every other thrust. Your clit rubs against the base of his groin, amplifying the pleasure into a sensation you’ve long forgotten about.

“A-Astarion—” you mewl out between kisses, and his hot breath tickles your face when he chuckles.

“Cum for me,” he sighs out, and the assertion comes off soft and pleading as it settles into the groves of your heart.

“O-Okay— I… I—”

He tightens his hold on your waist with one hand, as the other moves to cradle your cheek. His touch is unbelievably delicate and affectionate, and out of all the stimulation he had so graciously provided you this night, it’s that soft touch that sends you over the edge.

Your lips connect in one last kiss, and you moan throatily into his mouth. Your hips still, thighs squeezing as your pussy tightens around his cock in a moment of pure bliss. The steadily rising pressure in your belly finally tips over, sending a wave of bliss down your entire being.

Still, he keeps moving. You almost want to scream against him as his hips begin pounding into you again, the soft slaps quickening as he slowly peaks with you.

Withdrawing from the kiss to lean against your neck, he cums. Hard.

Your slowly declining climax seems to slam the gas pedal as you feel him release deep into you, the warmth spreading through your body like a genial embrace, a fact that makes him groan loudly against your mouth. Your breath stills in your throat, before finally releasing into a long, guttural moan— it echoes into the night, and your vision blurs.

White-hot bliss envelops your body, and you melt into Astarion’s for solace. You feel him grip you, caress your face, kiss away your adrenaline-fueled tears, and pant softly against your lips as your pussy spasms again.

Your orgasm envelops you in slow, pulsating waves as it withdraws, and you’re soon left huffing into the vampire’s flaxen locks. You think you hear him speak, but the ringing in your ears is too potent to know for certain.

Then, as the ringing finally retires, you hear him whisper your name. It’s a soft, patient call against the burning skin of your neck, one you commit to memory as you’re finally awarded your senses back— if only partially.

The forest feels exceptionally silent as you fall into his arms. You recognize the soft chirp of crickets in the distance, perhaps a distant hoot of owls, but it all seems to blend into an indecipherable blur as exhaustion floods your system.

Your head falls into the crook of his neck, and your mind sinks into the soft, languid thumps of his heart. His hand caresses your back, and you sigh deeply.

You sit there for what feels like hours, drinking each other in. You’ve waited so long, and finally, you’re at ease— it’s a feeling you wish to cherish, and if it wasn’t for the pesky passage of time, you’d choose to stay in this damned forest for eons; with him.

You feel him shift against you. His hands withdraw from your waist, and he whispers softly against you. “Come, my love.”

You hum in disagreement, face burrowing deeper into him. Yes, rosemary and brandy— now it’s clear to you.

He exhales sharply, and you smile into his neck. He waits for a beat, before placing a soft kiss to your temple. “Wait here.”

You nod gently and finally allow him to withdraw. The separation makes you sigh, your body shivering in the newfound cold of the night, but you persevere. In the longing to hold on to the moment for a little longer, you keep your eyes closed and hope he’ll return before you open them again.

You hear him shuffle around, walking from left to right, before finally returning to face you. “Hands up,” he mutters softly, and you do as you’re told in your pleasure-drunken stupor.

You feel him drape something silken over your sweat-slick body, the soft material draping your hips before coming to a stop at your thighs. When you breathe in, you immediately realize it’s not your shirt, so you grin.

When you’re comfortably wrapped up, he leans in. Once you finally sense the familiar warmth of his chest, you lean against his shoulder and breathe in his scent.

You’re surprised he does this for you. Tenderness is not exactly something you’d connect with a man of his past, of his skill. Yet, when his hands move to rest under your knees and back, you don’t resist.

He lifts you off the ground, letting your fatigued frame rest against him. He takes it upon himself to get you back to camp, safe and sound, and only slightly perturbed.

You drink in everything you can, letting yourself be greedy for once. The steadiness of his breath, his warm chest, the crinkling of leaves under his feet— it’s an image you swear to place, no matter what difficulties might threaten to befall you in the future.

And he’s silent up until you reach the campgrounds. The chatter of dinnertime has long died down, and when you open your eyes, you spot the crackling embers of firelight flickering away among a circle of stones. The flames cast a soft, warm light onto the closed tents, and you revel in the intimacy of the moment.

“Everyone met their bedtime while we’ve been naughty sneaking out,” he murmurs with a chuckle, and you close your eyes hurriedly in hopes of feigning slumber. Still, you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face at his brazen comment.

You reach the outskirts and finally spot his tent just below an old, sturdy oak tree. You recall the talks you had out front so many times before, back when your feelings were just sparks of something much stronger and much, much warmer.

He crouches down and with an unsurprising agility climbs into the little shelter with you still in his arms. You lie slack against him, letting his arms lay you gently onto his woolen mat. You melt into the warmth almost immediately, sighing out dreamily when you feel his presence beside you.

It’s silent for a moment, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you catch him staring at you. His gaze is thoughtful but warm, lingering over your form with a certain glimmer.

“I guess it’s official, then,” you sigh out, closing your eyes again and letting a lazy smile drift over your features.

He pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. “What… what is?”

You chuckle softly at his awkward tone, shifting to the side and letting one of your eyes pop open to glance at him.

“My victory,” you state matter-of-factly before quickly shifting to your other side, facing away from him just to let a satisfied grin creep onto your face.

You don’t witness it, but his expression goes from tense, to disconcerted, to irritated in a matter of seconds. His eyes roll, and you suddenly feel a flat slap against your ass.

“Woah there, hey!” you gasp, followed by a cheeky giggle. Your head turns to face him from your comfortable position, and you catch him mirroring your grin.

“Quiet, now,” he commands softly, pivoting to lie beside you. His arm comes over your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Bet’s over, darling. I’m sorry to say, but you’ve not proven yourself capable. Shame, really.”

You blow a raspberry through your smile and shimmy closer to him, your body melting perfectly into his— a fact that has you near to falling asleep.

“Shame indeed. The look on your face was priceless when you ate dirt,” you shrug nonchalantly, “At least that’s the version I’ll be telling everyone come morning.”

He scoffs, the low rumble of it vibrating against your back, but his arm only tightens around you. You feel his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.

“If you do that, I might just have to kill you,” he mutters, but despite the intensity of the words, his voice is soft and loving against your head. His hand drifts to your belly, fingers tracing lazy circles against the soft skin there.

“You would never.”

He’s silent for a beat. Your lips open to build on your clever retort before you feel his sharp exhale on your neck.

“Sleep, darling,” he reprimands, squeezing your midriff gently.

You sigh contentedly, your lips brushing against the pillow as you settle deeper into his embrace. The tent is cocooned in warmth, but you feel the cool kiss of the evening breeze filtering in through the small opening at the entrance. Outside, the campfire crackles faintly, the last embers glowing like distant stars before fading into fine ash.

As you drift closer to sleep, wrapped in the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the world around you blurs into the peaceful haze of near-dreams.

Just as the veil of slumber begins to pull you under, you feel his lips press against your hair, a soft whisper brushing against your skin.

“As long as I'll live, I never could.”

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bunnywithablog · 2 months ago

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Hi! I saw that requests were open, so I wonder... can I request an imagine or headcanons (whatever you're more comfortable doing) about Legosi falling for a carnivore s/o and struggling with that after being so sure to be attracted to herbivores only please??

my writing chops are a bit rusty so please excuse me if this feels a bit off 😭 i had lots of fun writing it though!! if anyone is interested in a part 2, please let me know! i think it's a cool concept to explore and would love to do more with this >:) thank's for requesting and i hope you enjoy!

requests | rules | masterlist

pairing: Beastars - legoshi x carnivore!gn!reader - feeling conflicted over falling for a carnivore hc’s

warnings: internalized ...species-phobia??, brief locker-room talk from bill, implied love triangle if you squint

- now this just threw him for an absolute loop

- i mean, sure legoshi has always been more than capable of recognizing when a carnivore would be considered conventionally attractive

- but to actually FEEL attracted to them himself???

- manages to convince himself that maybe he just really likes you,,,,as a fellow peer?

- why else would he feel so strongly towards you?

- it had to be some pack-mentality science! yeah, definitely! 🤔

- but it's hard to ignore the way his ears perk at the sound of your voice during class

- or the slight wag of his tail when he catches your scent in the hallways

- or how his heart seems to stop whenever you look in his direction,,,, 💗

- it's like you were sent into his life specifically to shake him up, it's so confusing!

- so his best solution to this? avoiding you entirely.

- outta sight outta mind 🫡

- sitting extremely far away from your spot in classes, changing which hallway routes he takes, getting to and leaving the cafeteria way before/after you

- it's a perfect plan, really!

- except you don't leave his mind

- no matter where he is or what he's doing, images and questions about you creep into his thoughts

- 'what do they like to do in their free time? they have a really pretty smile, i bet it attracts a lot of people... are they interested in dating right now? would they even be interested in a grey wolf, for that matter? how do they keep their fur looking so soft?'

- he even makes more time to hang around with haru to try reinforce his established attraction to just herbivores

- the only thing this really achieves is sending him into a spiral about how he's attracted to two different people now

- and when you get scouted into the drama club as one of the dancers, it's even harder to keep you out of his sight

- starts making slip-ups with angling the lighting correctly since his focus can't help but shift to you during rehearsals

- the others in the backstage crew actually start asking if he's alright because he never makes this many mistakes

- he thinks every movement you make is so graceful, controlled and confident,,,

- it's a testament to the way you own your strengths and effortlessly channel them into your skills; it makes it undeniably alluring to watch the way you move

- wait! no! it's normal for most carnivores to be good at the physical arts so it's not attraction, just admiration for how good you are!

- denial is a river in egypt,,,,

- this cycle goes on for quite some time until the first dress rehearsal

- "oh man, did you see how good [name] looks out there in their costume? what a hot bod, especially doing all those poses and bends during the dance routine! heh, what i'd do to get a piece of that... huh? hey, legoshi, what's got you all wound-up?"

- hearing bill talk about you like that and subsequently having to hold back from hurtling a mean punch his way, legoshi finally accepted that this was a feeling he had to address 💀

- despite the borderline obsessive pull toward you, he realizes he doesn't actually know you beyond being classmates and drama club members together

- eventually concludes the best course of action is to formally introduce himself and hopefully spend some time together

- figures it's also a good way to see if these feelings grow or fade the more he gets to know you, maybe it really is just some carnivore pack-mentality thing!

- best-case scenario is that he just really wanted to be friends with you so he can continue pursuing haru without worry, but only time will tell now...

enjoy what i write? consider helping with my transition! 💕

#beastars #beastars x reader #beastars x gn reader #beastars legoshi x reader #beastars legoshi x gn reader #legoshi x reader #legoshi x gn reader #x gn reader #x carnivore reader #romantic #strangers to friends #strangers to lovers #implied love triangle

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nerdlvr · 1 month ago

Text

✩ goons and ghosts.

(MDNI)

smut with sorta plot, 4k+ words , ghost jisung x gooner reader , riding , cowgirl and dogstyle positions , peeping tom jisung , female and male masturbation , dick sucking , deepthroating , a lot of spit , switch jisung , switch reader , jisung's a bold virgin and reader has never nutted , cum swallowing , ur reading ghost smut nothing is accurate , lmk if i missed anything!

making a side note cause idek what happened WE LOST THE PLOT but in the end i am decently satisfied with this work. there are no specified roles in this fic everyone just wants a good fuck ALSO will be uploading a text imagine for this fic because i got so emotionally invested in the character dynamics. okie bye pls enjoy!

jisung didn’t like the would haunt. he didn’t haunt things, he simply resided there. just like how he had been residing in your apartment for the past couple months. did you know of his presence? no. but he was definitely not haunting you.

the first time was an accident... kinda. at first he was more curious about the furry little creature that he saw on your balcony, absentmindedly following it into your apartment.

what a strange creature that thing, it's almost like it could see him. its sharp tiny eyes following his figure as it shimmied through your glass doors. what a fat lump of fur, little bell jingling against its neck, that smug little look on its face and- oh my ghost, what are you doing?

he thinks he's never seen a human this pretty in his short lifetime (deathtime?). your hair was a mess against your sheets, cheeks flushed and eyebrows knit together in concentration as your hands fiddled against your panties.

he watched as the fabric soaked into your heat, pink painted toes curling at the pressure you applied through your soft fingertips. your whiny moans surrounded him, room hot and sticky against his skin.

meow

that thing speaks?

meow

he looked down to the side of your bed as the furball clawed at your sheets, its beady eyes still staring directly at him.

"momu- stop- ugh, what is it?"

you attempted to swat the thing away, frustration building on your face.

"can you- momu what? what is it?"

You huffed as you sat up on your bed, hands slapping your duvet loudly. your eyes darted around the room looking for the source of your cat’s worries.

for a moment he froze in place, not like you could see him, but for some reason he felt like he’d been caught. he watched you hesitantly as your eyes scanned the room.

maybe it was the nerves but he swore that briefly, just briefly, your eyes focused right on where he was, a soft hm coming from your mouth as you relaxed back into your bed.

he was gone before you knew it, there’s no way you could see him, he was just being paranoid.

the second time was less of accident. he had been watching a movie with your neighbor, casper the friendly ghost, how fitting.

the only thing that would make this crappy movie any better was if he could sneak a piece of popcorn, the oblivious idiot probably wouldn’t notice anyway, eyes focused on the bright tv screen. speaking of this idiot, was he blatantly ignoring your obnoxiously loud moans? your voice was practically seeping through the thin walls of his apartment. were you just an inconsiderate neighbor or was it really that good? he had to find out. he wasn’t creeping, he was simply curious.

and that’s how he found himself back in your room watching as you stuffed your pretty pussy full with your small fingers. never had he seen a girl in heat.

your body was gleaming with sweat, clearly having been at this for a while now. you pushed your fingers deeper and deeper, body squirming under the force of your own hands. how did you even manage to fit three fingers in there?

and even though your hole seemed to struggle with the size and your moans grew impossibly louder, you never truly seemed satisfied. you tossed and turned clearly frustrated by your lack of skill. he looked down at his pants, he was much bigger than your flimsy little fingers, if only he could move your hands and-

meow

fucking hell. momu was it? momu fuck off.

you rolled your eyes as you pulled your sticky fingers out of your hole, a loud sigh leaving your lips, “i know momu- momu i know, no ones harming mommy.”

he swore your eyes met his as you spoke to the furball. what did you know exactly? he didn’t give himself time to wonder as he moved back into your neighbors home, at least the idiot was asleep, time to eat his popcorn.

the next couple of times weren’t accidents at all. it had become a habit at this point to watch you touch yourself. how could he stop himself when you were practically calling for him?

there you are sprawled out on your bed, sweet little pussy dripping onto your fresh sheets as you rubbed against your swollen clit. he was sat in his usual spot in the corner of your room, hands gently rubbing at his growing bulge, eyes trained on your body. if only he could touch you, please you how you so desperately wanted to be pleased. he knew he could satisfy you, could fuck the goon out of you. but why would he want this to end?

he wondered how pathetic he must look doing all of this, hand shoved down his pants, cheeks burning bright red as he came undone, embarrassed by his own actions. he only did all this because he knew you couldn’t see him, why would he openly be a peeping pervert?

you in fact could see him. it’s not like you had some crazy superpower, you just could.

originally you had thought he was your neighbor’s sibling. tall, handsome, and dorky, you watched as he blew air into your neighbor’s face while he was getting the mail. you had smiled to yourself, what an annoying little brother.

but then when you had mentioned it to your neighbor he had replied, “what brother?” strange. as you began to describe the image of the young man you had seen your neighbor only grew more confused. very strange.

maybe it was a misunderstanding. or maybe he was a fucking ghost.

it’s not like you believe in those things or anything, him being a ghost had never even crossed your mind. but as the same dorky man sunk into your room through your wall you thought there was absolutely no other explanation.

you should’ve screamed, should’ve ran away, called the cops. but you were so close. your legs only squeezed tighter around your hand as you watched him flush at the sight of you, bulge pressing against his jeans. he seemed hesitant, almost scared, as he continued to watch you touch yourself.

he gulped as you rubbed harder against your clothed core, fabric rubbing against your abused clit.

meow

what better cockblocker than your own cat.

"momu- stop- ugh, what is it?" you swatted at your cat, desperate to continue, "can you- momu what? what is it?"

you knew she was startled by the random man in your house, she was never a fan of new people. but you pretended to not know what was bothering her, looking around your room dumbly. you couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at the ghost, his chest rising and falling nervously like he had been caught. did he know you could see him?

definitely not, since he stumbled out of your room and straight off your balcony. you could practically scream, not only had your high died down, but your handsome hunk of a ghost had abandoned you.

you turned to your cat, “you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

how to evoke a ghost. okay maybe you were an horny freak, or maybe you were just insane, but you had suffered through countless nights of rubbing at your poor pussy, nothing satisfying you. but that one night that ghost had come into your room you felt like you could actually finish at the sight of him. where were you going to find a tall handsome loser in this day and age, let alone a dead one? okay, maybe you were a horny freak.

you scrolled through the google search results. light some candles and chant a prayer, too spooky. chant its name into a mirror, would it work if you chanted, “tall handsome dork, tall handsome dork, tall handsome dork!” probably not. you should’ve known it was pointless to begin with. you had lost your moment of luck, back to square one.

you laid back into your soft bed, getting comfortable against your pillows as you began to run your hands over your body. this was just a warm up, goosebumps forming on your skin as you teased your nipples, fingers teasing the skin of your breasts.

by the time your hands made their way down to your core you were panting softly, body running hot. you had probably been a little too excited to touch yourself, moans louder than usual as your fingers met your clit. holy shit, you squeezed your eyes shut, the image of the stranger ghost filled your head as you prodded at your entrance. one finger, not enough. two fingers, not enough. three fingers, your walls squeezed around your fingers tightly, why wasn’t this enough.

you moaned loudly, partly in frustration and partly from the feeling of your fingers digging deeper inside of you, the image of the ghost never leaving your mind. you just knew he was bigger than three little fingers of yours.

nevertheless, you put your fingers to work, occasionally bringing your free hand down to rub at your clit. if only, if only he just-

“fuck.”

your eyes fluttered open as you heard a soft groan coming from the corner of your room. and there he was, watching you touch yourself. you threw your head back on your pillow, body writhing under your touch as you felt his gaze burn your skin. this was good, actually it was more than good, it was great, you felt your walls pulse around your fingers, stomach in knots as you fucked yourself.

meow

that damn cat. momu fuck off.

you sighed as you pulled your fingers out, attention now on your crying cat, “i know momu- momu i know, no ones harming mommy.”

you turned towards the ghost as you spoke, eyes pleading, please don’t leave. but he was already on his way out, fading into your wall.

he liked to watch and you liked to be watched. that’s how things had turned out between you two, you played with yourself for hours and he’d palm himself through his jeans until he came. then you’d get up, take a shower, and when you returned he’d be gone. you were smart enough to lock your door now, momu the cockblocker no longer interrupting.

this unspoken arrangement between you two was fun, but not enough. hours and hours of rubbing and fucking yourself with your fingers and nothing. you were glad you helped him finish, but you’d never quite reach your own climax, pussy rubbed raw and not even one orgasm.

if this was any other guy you would’ve called him out by now, selfish prick. but every time you looked over at him he was hunched over in your love seat, cheeks flushed, bangs covering his eyes as he quietly groaned to himself. it’s almost like he was hiding from you. tall man now tiny as he shrunk into himself, biting his hand to silence his loud moans as he spurts cum into his jeans. sometimes you’d catch him staring at you longingly, hands itching to touch you, so why didn’t he?

only you would get stuck with a shy pervert ghost.

8:00 PM. around this time he was usually relaxing on your neighbor’s couch, watching whatever lame movie he had on his watchlist, but tonight your neighbor had gotten lucky, bringing some girl home.

they had been making out since they walked through the door, clothes quickly being removed and thrown around the entrance of his apartment. jisung was quick to slip away, deciding there was no harm in lounging at your place instead. he would much rather listen to your moans anyways.

he took his usual spot on the love seat in the corner of your room, slumping against the soft cushions. he wondered when you’d show up, you usually got horny around 10, so he guessed he’d have to wait for a while, but your arrival came sooner than expected as you walked into your room, lazily scratching at your arm, “oh hi.”

wait what? did you just talk to him?

your body stilled, eyes nervously glancing around the room. oh shit. had you just spoken to him?

he got up quickly from his seat, rushing towards you and waving a hand in your face, “can you see me?”

you were quick to turn around, walking out of your room and towards your living room. he was early, and you had just spoken to him out of instinct. he was basically living in your house by now, appearing every night, but today he was early and you had forgotten you weren’t supposed to be able to see him.

he followed after you, voice shaky as he called out for you, “wait- wait can you see me? stop-“

you stopped as you felt his hand reach for your arm. he let out a shocked gasp, “you can feel me too!”

he raised a finger at you as you turned to face him, a bright blush spreading down his neck. “you- you- can see-“ he redirected his finger to himself, “can see me?”

you gave him a quick nod, biting your lip to hide your smile, he was embarrassed, how cute.

“how- how can you- for how long?” his eyebrows knit together in worry, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

you contemplated whether or not to tell him the truth, maybe you could save him the shame of being caught red handed, and also benefit by not let him know you’re a weirdo who’s into ghosts. “this is my first time seeing you.”

he squinted his eyes, glaring at you, “you’re lying! if this was your first time seeing me you would’ve been scared! you’re acting like you’ve known me your whole life!”

you chuckled nervously, well now you both had been caught. “okay, maybe, maybe i’ve seen you around somewhere.”

he paced around your living room, hands gripping at the roots of his hair as he clenched his teeth, “oh my- you know i’ve been watching you! this is so embarrassing! i- i’m leaving this is insane-“

“wait.” you grabbed at his arm before he could disappear, desperation building in your eyes.

he shivered in your grasp. you were touching him, touching him with the same hands you worked against your wet heat, night after night begging for releasee. he felt his pants tighten, head dropping in shame.

“please don’t leave. i- i need you, don’t leave, please.”

he turned to you, confused. you needed him?

“you- you know better than anyone that i can’t- i can’t- you know.” you ducked your head, now you were the one feeling embarrassed. asking the paranormal to help you cum? top 10 most down bad moments.

“you can’t cum.” he said it so matter of factly that you forgot that he was that one that should be embarrassed. he’s the intruder, he’s the pervert, he’s the- the ghost!

“you want me to help you cum?” forget everything you just thought. yes he was all of those things, but right now, he was the only one that could make you finish, it’s not the time for smart comments.

you nodded slowly, eyes focused on a suddenly interesting speck of dust on the floor.

“use me.” you raised your head, eyes wide as you looked up at him.

“use me to cum.” jisung hoped you couldn’t hear the nerves in his tone.

okay so remember all that stuff jisung said about how he’d touch you and please you how you deserved, blah blah. well he may have stretched the truth a tiny bit. in his defense he never thought he’d actually get the opportunity to do all those things, and it’s not his fault he's a 22 year old virgin ghost! and now he had a horny freak that was ready to devour him, dragging him into her bedroom. if it wasn’t for his painfully hard cock straining against his jeans he probably would’ve run away, preferring to listen to your neighbor get laid.

you were quick to undress, shame leaving you as you felt your body heat up, pussy aching at the thought of finally having the dick you so desperately craved.

jisung mimicked your movements, undressing and climbing next to you in bed. he sat awkwardly, hands making a weak attempt at covering his length. you kneeled in front of him, arms coming up to collect your hair, tying it up neatly.

he gulped nervously, there it was, that look he knew so well. there was a glint in your eyes, that hungry gaze that meant you only had one thing in mind. an orgasm.

nervous was an understatement, he couldn’t have picked a more normal girl to watch?

you were going to eat him whole. he was there, right where you wanted him, and you were finally going to cum. it was just you, his dick, and your insatiable hunger.

you reached for his hands, moving them away to reveal his hard length. he was long and girthy, tip flushed and leaking. your mouth watered as you reached out to grab his base, a shaky breath leaving his lips.

he could practically cry as you stuck your tongue out to get a taste of him, rubbing the wet muscle along the head of his length. you parted your lips to surround his tip, sucking lightly. the moan you let out vibrated along his shaft, his shaky hands coming up to grip at you tied hair.

you relaxed your jaw as you opened your mouth wider to take more of him in, hands moving away from his base to lightly massage his balls. he groaned loudly as you kept lowering yourself on him, nose touching his pubic bone. you were insane.

“holy shit, you fucking slut.”

he pulled you up by your hair, a gasp leaving your lips as oxygen entered your lungs. you looked up at him, eyes glassy, spit pooling in your mouth. he pushed your head back down on him, tip poking at the back of your throat as he bobbed you on him, lewd noises coming from your mouth as you slobbered on his length, spit dripping down to his balls,

“this is what you wanted hm? so desperate, that's why you let me watch you this whole time?”

he lifted you back up, eyes slightly widening at your crazy grin, head struggling to nod as his grip on your hair tightened. he brought his free hand up to wipe your face, spit running down your chin and onto your breasts.

“so fucking dirty, come here.” he pulled you towards his lap, holding you up so you’d hover above his length. he reached down to rub his tip along your folds, collecting your juices.

“look- look at how fucking wet you are- jesus- want me to fuck you that badly, you’re pathetic, you’d let anyone fuck this pussy wouldn’t you?”

you whined loudly, shaking your head, “no- no- just you- fuck- want you so bad, please.” you panted in his grasp, hips rocking against his tip.

“that’s right baby, only i have what this pretty little pussy wants- fuck.” the words died in jisung’s throat as you sank yourself down on his length, wet heat engulfing his length.

“shit shit shit, you’re so big-“ he watched as you threw your head back, hips now sitting flush against his lap.

any confidence jisung had prior to this moment was completely lost. his forehead ached at how tightly his brows knit together, mouth falling open in a silent moan. he was the ghost but your pussy was supernatural.

his head fell against your breasts as you raised your hips before slamming back down onto him building a slow rhythm.

you gripped his jaw, bringing his face up to look at you, “got nothing to say now huh, dirty pervert, wanted to fuck me so bad.” he nodded into your hand, eyes soft as he stared up at you, “i- i thought i was gonna go crazy, wanted you so bad- fuck-“ you brought your hips flush against him, grinding down hard, his thick cock rubbing against your walls.

he gripped your ass, helping your hips move against his, “please- please use me to cum- want it so bad.”

you smirked down at him, lifting your hips slowly to slide back down at an angle so the head of his cock would rub against your sweet spot. he watched you as moans erupted from your chest, eyes squeezing tightly as you softly bounced on him.

“such a good boy baby, cock so perfect- oh my-“ your hips fell against his, soft pants warm against his chest as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder.

he reached down to cup your face, “what’s wrong? what happened angel- are you okay?”

worry bloomed in his chest as he looked at your flushed face, tears building in your eyes as you pouted up at him, “i- i can’t- wanna cum so bad- please.”

oh? you didn’t know how to make yourself cum. “poor baby-“ he kissed your pout softly before lifting you off of him, “good thing i’m here right?” he flipped you around, pushing your head down and pulling your hips up, “let me make you feel good hm?”

you nodded, head rubbing against your messy bedsheets. he slapped his length against your ass, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as you moaned at the feeling, “you’re dirty.”

he grabbed the base of his cock, pressing into you weeping hole, the new angle making him feel deeper than before, “i love it.”

that was the last thing said before his hips started to pound against your ass, loud slapping noises filling your room. you pushed your ass back deeper into him, each stroke of his length running along your spasming walls.

he hunched over your body, hand sneaking around your hips to rub your clit, “come on, i know you can do it baby, just relax, i got you.”

you focused on his touches, the way his fingers rolled along you clit, free hand flicking at your hard nipples, his length pulsing inside of you, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.

then you felt it, that feeling you craved so much, like a pit of fire growing in your stomach, burning you from within, “please- please just like that, keep- keep.” you gripped onto the sheets, tears threatening to spill as you drooled dumbly.

in another universe above you, jisung was practically choking. your pussy had grown impossibly tighter, gummy walls suffocating him. if he kept at this he would probably faint. but as he felt your body begin to twitch beneath him he knew he couldn’t stop now. he fucked you like it was his only purpose on this earth, fingers cramping against your clit, but he kept going, he couldn’t stop.

your voice grew louder, a mix of moans and choked sobs leaving your drooling mouth as you wept into the sheets, body curling into itself as you felt the heat from your stomach explode. you gasped for air, toes curling as your body tensed.

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding,, body melting into the bed, a soft whine leaving your lips as you felt his length slip out of you.

he watched as you wiped at your face, tears staining your cheeks.

did you think this was over? he lifted you slightly, flipping you over on your back before climbing on top of you, legs straddling your chest. you hiccuped as he tapped your cheek with his still hard cock. “suck.” he placed his tip against your lips, moaning softly as you began to suck lightly.

your juices helped his hands slide against his length, his pace fast as he jerked himself off into your mouth. his free hand rubbed your cheek softly, tears wetting his fingertips, “so fucking pretty- look at me- fuck- i’m gonna cum.”

you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes soft and glassy. he was huge from this angle, lean body towering over you. his skin was flushed, pink spreading along his chest, bangs sticking to his forehead as he hunched over you.

"i'm-oh fuck-" his hand stilled, squeezing at his base. his mouth hung open in a silent moan, eyes crossing slightly as he spilled into your mouth. you moved your head away slightly as he rubbed some of his cum on your swollen lips.

he let out a loud sigh, tired body falling back onto your bed. he took a deep breath before sitting back up to reach for you, pulling you on top of him.

jisung looked down at you as your body shook against his chest, soft giggles leaving your lips, “i- i just had sex with a ghost! ha! i’m so fucking horny i’ve finally lost my mind!”

you slapped his chest lightly, then again, and again. “what?” he rubbed your back softly, “just wondering if you were actually real or if the gooning got to me.”

he chuckled as you started to giggle again, “you’re fucking insane and that is so fucking hot.”

a professional gooner and a pervert ghost aka a match made in heaven.

check out goons and ghosts the text imagine!

#nerdlvr #nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct smut #nct fanfic #nct jisung #park jisung #jisung #park jisung smut #jisung smut #jisung imagines #park jisung imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream smut

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kolsmikaelson · 9 months ago

Text

— ART DONALDSON NSFW ALPHABET

NOTES — been deep in my mike faist era for the longest time and i’m so obsessed w art it’s bad, so here we are! hope you enjoy <3.

WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, fem!reader, not proofread

join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

needy as fuck. he’ll grab his shirt that had been tossed to the floor to clean you up quickly before tossing it back onto the floor and just wrapping himself around you, keeping his head on your chest.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he looooves his arms, he always liked them, but maybe how much you like them is what made them his favorite. he’s obsessed with your legs, he loves the way they feel when they’re wrapped around his head while he’s eating you out or how they feel wrapped around his waist when he’s pounding into you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he loves to cum on your tits. it’s his favorite place to cum, other than inside of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

the two of you met in college, when he was much less experienced, so one time when patrick is visiting he recruits him into teaching him how to fuck you better. art knew he was alright but he wanted to be great for you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

not super experienced, sure he’d fooled around some before he met you but that’s about it. with some help from patrick he definitely knows what he’s doing.

F = Favorite position ( goes without saying)

cowgirl. he’s a tit guy and loves that he can see your tits bouncing in his face while you’re riding him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

it can go either way, usually he’s a little on the goofy side, but sometimes, after a bad match he’s not in the mood to be goofy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not clean shaved by any means but he keeps everything under control.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

the most romantic. showering you with love and affection is all that he wants to do <3.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

used to jerk off so often, but as the two of you got older he did it less and less but maybe that’s because you were always there to do it for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

praise kink (giving or receiving), size kink, spit kink, little bit of a mommy kink if he’s feeling really needy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his dorm, his car (but only if parked in a decently secluded place), or the shower.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

winning gets him going, the adrenaline from the game and from winning gets the best of him every time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

no choking, you specifically, every once in a while he’d be okay with you lightly squeezing his throat while you’re on top of him riding him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

definitely prefers giving, he’d spend as long as you let him finding out what makes you tick, exploring every inch of your cunt, but he’d never turn down a blowjob if offered.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

both! but usually fast and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he loves them. a quickie before a match or before you leave for class, always put you both in a good mood.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes and no, it just depends on what you or he wanted to try. but he’d always at least consider it for a while if you were to ask to try something new.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

2-3 rounds usually, sometimes it could be 4. he lasts a decent while, as long as he gets you off first then he’ll let himself cum, though sometimes he’s cum in his pants when he’s eating you out but really it’s a win-win situation.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he’ll use your vibe on you every once in a while but usually he’s not huge on toy usage. but he’s not completely against it either.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he gets better at it over time but you’re usually the one doing all the teasing instead of him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

so loud, he’s always whimpering and whining and moaning in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

just like patrick, he’d try and feel put how you felt about having a threesome with patrick, because at the end of the day, whether they’d admit it or not they’re not complete without the other but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less, because trust that man to be absolutely obsessed with you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

a good 5-6 inches soft, and pretty girthy too. and he knows just how to use it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty high. he’s obsessed with you and obsessed with fucking you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

oh he’s out like a light. his eyes are droopy when he’s cleaning you up but the moment his head falls onto your chest, he’s done for.

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mywritersmind · 1 month ago

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NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.4

christmas special

part one - part two - part three

summary : You’re not a damsel, just someone who happens to enjoy the help of an attractive man once and a while. This goes down the drain as soon as he refuses to kill a spider for you. Christmas is approaching and Lando is inching closer and closer to the nice list, only if he stops mentioning that kiss.

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : kissing! dual pov! mentions of sexual content!

words : 4157

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I thought that I wouldn’t be able to sleep. My mind was already racing after kissing Lando and my thoughts always take over when I'm in my bed.

I couldn’t stop thinking about his lips on mine while I brushed my teeth. Or his hands under my shirt while I braided my hair. But the second I slipped under the covers, honestly wanting to over analyze the moment, I fell asleep.

There was one catch though. A glaring and irritatingly obvious catch.

I dreamt about him.

It wasn’t horny or scary, it was just… him. We sat on the couch and watched a movie. I don’t remember what he was saying, just remember how he looked in the firelight.

I woke up actually sad that it was over.

⋆༺

I barely talk to Lando in the morning, there’s definitely no time for any sort of conversation revolving around our secretive kisses.

Do I even want to talk to him about it?

Yes and No. I need to understand what it was but I’d also like to not embarrass myself and become another one of his one night things.

And then there’s Max and our little friends christmas. P definitely is sending me suspicious looks when I drag her to sit with me in the back seat instead of Lando.

Lando and Max sing christmas songs the whole way to the rink. Yes, you heard that right.

The rink.

It’s outside and I've never been more bundled. In a thick pink scarf and puffer jacket, I struggle to get my ice skates on. Lando sits next to me, hitting my arm as he tightens his skates, gripping the laces with how ungloved fingers.

He ties his into little bows as he says, “Need help, Sunshine?” I blink, for some reason, the nickname catches me off guard.

Max and P are already taking photos together as I nod, not even saying anything before he kneels in front of me, “I’m not some damsel in distress, you know.” I say as he takes my foot between his knees.

His curls are refreshed, those green eyes glancing up at me as a small smirk tugs at his lips, “I’m aware. Are you worried I think that?”

He tightens the laces, “I just want you to know I can do things for myself.” Even with snowboarding, he had to carry me. It makes me feel helpless even if he does look good helping me.

“I know you can, Sunny, trust me.” He moves to my other skate, “You kissed me all by yourself last night.” He says it in a low, quiet voice. Tieing off my skates and tapping my knee.

He's not smirking anymore, just looking at my partially shocked face. Lando stands, walking away as I wobble on my feet to get to the ice.

Contrary to my walking on the ground skate skills, I’m great at skating on actual ice. I used to skate when I was younger, Max had his one thing with karting and I wanted that.

For me, It wasn’t skating. But I did find a certain love for the cold sport.

Lando however, is not multi talented when it comes to sports. He grips onto the side rain as Max and P hold hands next to him.

I snap a picture of him where he looks utterly distressed. He frowns at me laughing at him, P joining, “Lan, we should get you one of those crutch things.”

His jaw drops at the implication just as a kid skates by, holding the plastic helper. “Help me out here.” Lando reaches for Max’s arm but my brother pulls it away quickly.

“You’re on your own for this one, bud.” He leaves as P starts speeding up. The rink isn’t too crowded which is good especially for the time of year.

Lando looks at me, uncomfortable and annoyed at the kid behind him who yells at him to hurry up, “Fuck no.” I laugh and start skating backwards, “It’s not that hard.”

He chuckles a bit, “That’s what she said.”

I frown and start to leave but am abruptly pulled back by Lando’s hand on my arm. He’s let go of the side and is grabbing my arm with impressive strength.

I roll my eyes and move his hands to mine, turning around so I can face him. It’s taking everything in me now to laugh, he’s hunched over in a dior jacket as his ‘4’ necklace dangles. “Look at me, Norris.”

He looks up hesitantly, “Stand up straight.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He winks and I almost let him go but he holds on tighter, his rings indenting into my gloves.

His posture improves as Max and P pass us, but I don’t even think he sees them because his eyes are on me.

He laughs a bit at the kid who zooms past us, and starts getting the hang of it more, “There you go…” His smile widens as we start up faster, then promptly trips.

“I’m feeling humbled.”

I laugh, “You should be. You’re shit at this.” He pulls me closer and I can’t if it’s on purpose or because he just tried to speed up.

Either way, he’s looking down at me and dropping one of my hands so we both face the same way. I go to pull my hand away but his grip tightens.

“You’re not gonna fall on your face.”

“I’m gonna fall on my face.” he says immediately as I laugh a bit and look away. “I need my face!”

“Right… brings in the big bucks at work.” Lando tugs me closer and smirks down at me.

“Are you… flirting with me?”

I bite my lip, shaking my head, “Keep dreaming.”

“Oh I had a great dream last night!” He says, far too chipper for me to fall for his words. “After a quick cold shower, I fell right to sleep.”

I roll my eyes at his words, “Now you’re just boosting my ego, Norris.”

“C’mon, Sunshine. You saw me last night. That fucking movie was torture.” I shiver at the icy air even though my legs are warming up from the workout.

“I thought it was good.” I shrug.

“Yeah well you didn’t have a raging hard-” Max and P catch up to us then and Lando switches his speech seamlessly, “Hard! This is so hard!”

P giggles and takes my other hand so we’re in a row now, the boys on either side of us. I send Lando a look but he doesn’t look at all guilty, just smirking innocently.

Pietra and I leave the boys, allowing me to speed up and do some rounds without my deadweight that is Lando. “Did something happen?” P asks as I dodge a man.

“Lando almost fell?”

“No.” She laughs, “I mean between you two…” oh shit. “I mean, did you take my advice?”

Translation : Did I fuck Lando Norris.

“No!” I say quickly, “I’m not going to either.”

We kissed. We kissed. We kissed.

“Ugh!” P groans as we pass them again, “Just a little holiday fling!”

I shake my head once again, pretending like the best kiss I've ever experienced didn't happen at all. “We just argued all though the movie, he stole my popcorn.”

“You two were pretty quiet when we got home.”

I sigh, “I’m sorry that we didn’t go at it, P!” We did. We would have probably gone further if it wasn’t for her and Max.

I’m soon taken down by my previous weight. Lando literally lands on top of me, sideways, and groaning. I rest my head against the ice, accepting defeat at this point.

“You’re a horrible teacher.” Lando says as he lifts himself off me, kneeling next to me as I sit up on my elbows.

“Excuse you!” I scoff and stand, looking down at him, “You’re a bad student.”

He's smiling still, even as I place my hands on my hips, “Maybe skating really isn’t my thing.” No shit.

I help him up anyway, only because I'm genuinely scared he will claw up my body if I don’t. His hand is warm even against my glove.

He moves it to my hair, smoothing it down a bit and brushing some ice off. It’s odd and so very gentle, “You’re blushing.” He says it almost as a whisper.

“I’m cold.” Is all I say in response, skating off and resting my hands on my hot cheeks.

⋆༺

Our day goes by incredibly fast. After a movie and some take out, we’re all slumped on the couch.

“Max was totally in love with you after the first date!” I laugh, playing with my sweats waistband.

P laughs with me as Max gets red, “It’s not a bad thing to understand your feelings!”

“No, just a bit creepy.” Lando says, his arms stretched around the couch.

“Oh right, Mr ‘I don’t date’!” Max retaliates, putting his arm around P, “When was the last time you kissed a girl that you actually liked!?”

My face goes hot while I reposition myself and laugh with Max and P. I move off the couch and sit next to the fire, doing anything to avoid eye contact with Lando.

He looks like he wants to spill everything, but then remembers his audience and just shrugs, “None of your business, Mate.”

“We should set you up!” P hits Max’s chest repeatedly in excitement as he coughs, “We know someone!”

Max raises a brow, “We do?”

P just rolls her eyes, “I do. I went to school with her, she’s an instagram model.” P starts to pull up her instagram on her phone when Lando eyes me, a bit scared.

“I’m okay, P. I like my life womanless right now, especially Instagram model-less.” I smile at his words and lay back on the carpet.

“I don’t know, I’d be fun seeing you actually fancy someone.” I say, hating the idea but liking the way Lando looks at me.

“Oh would it?” Lando deadpans.

Max pours more wine, “What about you, Y/n? That asshole stuck on you still?”

I smirk a bit and shake my head, glancing at Lando quickly, “No… he stopped calling.”

“I smell a match making opportunity!” P starts.

I quickly shut this down, “I’m off men right now. I don’t want a boyfriend and even if I did, i’m all fucked up from my ex.”

P looks sad but I didn’t mean to bring down the mood! Max sighs, “I knew he sucked from the beginning! Just saying!”

Lando smiles, “You never like Y/n’s boyfriends.”

“This one was extra bad!” my brother whines, “But yeah, so what? You have horrible taste, Y/n!”

I scoff, sitting up, “I do not!”

“You definitely do!” Lando laughs along with my brother, “Remember when you went out with that guy Max HATED in highschool?” He’s laughing harder now as Max’s jaw drops.

“I forgot about him! Fuck, sis, you need to find someone actually good for you!”

Lando sits up, grinning at me, “Yeah like me!”

“Not like him!” Max says quickly, “You’ve got good friends though, Bob.” He’s smirking now, “A certain spaidnard?”

Lando doesn’t look like he finds this funny, “No.”

“I don’t know, I'm into older guys.” Lando looks genuinely horrified at my answer, “Actually fuck Carlos give me Lewis. I’m down to be his controversially young girlfriend any day.”

“Can you not drool over my coworkers!?” Lando stands, “I’m gonna grab some snacks.” He leaves and P practically catapults herself onto the floor.

She kicks her feet behind her, smiling at me, “So… Maybe I have someone else for Lando.”

I raise a brow, “No.”

Max looks at the two of us, “P if you set Lando and Y/n up i’ll-”

His girlfriend turns to him, eyeing the man, “You’ll what?”

Max laughs, actually laughs! “Nevermind. Y/n would never go for him.”

⋆༺

I’m all cozy in my bed when I feel something on my leg. I think it’s just a hair at first, until it starts moving up my leg.

Lando’s in my room in seconds, eyes wide and in only sweats once again. “Why the fuck are you screaming bloody murder!?”

My heart is hammering in my chest as I run over to the door, “There- fuck! A huge spider just crawled up my leg!”

He makes a disgusted face and backs up into his room, “No way.”

I see the thing on my bed still and hop back, pointing, “Lando!” I keep my voice down now because Max and P are definitely already sleeping, “Kill it!”

“No chance, Sunshine! You kill it!” He puts his hands up and I swear it’s just an excuse to remind me that he’s shirtless.

I cross my arms, “You’re the man!”

He scoffs, stepping closer to me so I have to look up, “You’re the feminist!”

I scowl and look back at my bed, “I’m not sleeping there.” I stare at my once comfortable bed with disgust, looking back at Lando who’s smirking. My face drops, “No.”

“If you want to take the cough P spilled wine on, be my guest.” He shrugs and moves back to his room, his bed is screaming to me, I swear!

I look back at mine room once again, grabbing my hoodie and pushing past him, “Hands to yourself.”

“No problem…” When I turn around, he’s staring at my ass.

He climbs into bed after pulling a shirt over his head. Very polite of the man I was on top of yesterday.

I try to sleep immediately but am stuck looking out the window that Lando keeps open. I can see the snow falling onto his balcony, his slides are outside and getting covered by the white powder.

Lando shifts next to me and I'm suddenly ultra aware of his warmth. I can hear his breathing and my heart starts beating faster. I hate him. I hate him for making me feel like this.

“You awake?” His voice scares me in the dark, shifting to my side to look at him. I can see him lightly in the shadows, the moon adding light to the room and letting me see a strip of his face.

He’s so close that I can see the faint scar on his nose. “Mhm.” I mumble.

“I can’t sleep.” He whispers, “I’m scared that there’s gonna be a spider.” I can’t help but laugh, covering my mouth as he smiles across from me.

“Remember that time…” I giggle, “That one halloween.”

His jaw drops a little, “Holy shit. I blocked it out of my memory!”

I roll my eyes, “You screamed like a little girl when that fake spider fell on your head.”

“Fell!?” He whisper yells, “You threw it at me!”

I shake my head, “You took half my candy. It’s called redemption.”

“I was trying to flirt with you.” He admits as I laugh a bit, “Shut up, I was fourteen!”

“Aw don’t be embarrassed.” I smile, “It’s cute.”

His groans and shoves his face into his pillow, mumbling, “You know what, sunshine? You still manage to make me blush the same as back then.”

I groan, sitting up and resting my head against the headboard, “Stop.”

He sits up with me, leaning back on his arms and looking at me, “Stop making me blush first.”

I shake my head, “It’s not my fault you l-” like me. He can’t like me. Fuck he cannot like me! My smile drops and I look down at the comforter.

“It’s not your fault I what?” His tongue darts over his lips, his eyes locked on mine. I shake my head slowly and he starts again, “What do you want for Christmas, Sunshine?”

I blink, “It’s in two days. You still haven’t gotten me a gift?”

His smile is back now, “Maybe. Maybe not. I still want to know what you actually want. Hey, if it’s me, I won’t protest.”

I bring my feet under me, getting the sudden urge to run my hands through his hair, “You're too cocky for your own good.”

“Getting kissed by a pretty girl does that to a person.” His voice is deeper, more tired. Which makes me more breathless.

His shirt is riding up a bit, the blanket and his sweats tugging down so I can see a sliver of his stomach. “You’re not gonna let that go, are you?”

“I’ll stop joking about it, if you want.” He shrugs, “I can’t promise I won’t stop thinking about it. Or you.”

I lean closer, “Were you born a flirt?”

He smiles, toothy and happy, “Yes. And you love it.”

I give in, just a bit, “Maybe.” I sigh, looking at Lando as his eyes pierce mine. Maybe I like it because I shouldn’t.

Maybe I like the idea that no one in this house knows I'm in his bed.

Maybe I like that he hasn’t tried to kiss me.

“I know what I want.” Lando swallows, leaning closer as he nods, “But I'm not waiting until christmas.”

Maybe I like him a bit more than I planned.

I can feel his breath, smell his shampoo, “I'm a very generous gift giver.” His eyes flick down to my lips as I don’t say anything, “Use your words, Sunshine.”

“Kiss me.” He leans in but I stop him, “But, Lando. I can’t- I want this to stay quiet. Just us, quiet.” He looks hurt for a second but nods.

“I can stay quiet.” He whispers, his lips an inch away from mine, “Can you?”

I gasp a bit when his lips lock over mine. His hand on my waist. He’s slow and sensual, his body pushing against mine with none of the pressure or nerves I've felt with other men.

I think a part of me was meant to kiss Lando.

He slips his hand under my shirt, mumbling through the kiss, “Tell me to stop and I will.”

I groan as he moves off my lips, kissing down my jaw and finding my neck, “Don’t.”

⋆༺

The next morning, I sit by the window of my room, reading with the door open. I have my headphones on and am so engrossed in my book that I don’t even realize Lando was watching me until Max’s footsteps heavily move across my room.

Lando watch’s his best friend join me while just slowly walking past, into his room. I hate this. I hate him.

My brother sits opposite of me, “Hi.”

“Hey?”

“How are you?” I raise a brow at my brothers words. He never is weird and casually like this and he can definitely see the confusion on my face. “Okay, I need to talk to you.”

“Go ahead…?” I close my book and watch him speak nervously. “Seriously, you’re freaking me out.”

“It’s nothing bad!” he says defensively, “It’s just…” He looks to the door and whispers, “I think Lando fancies you.” This is a very weird turnaround because he said he knew I wouldn’t go for him last night.

My jaw actually drops. Like I’m genuinely shocked at his words. “Um no he does not.” My mind goes to Lando from last night.

Lando on top of me.

Lando’s hair in my hands.

Lando’s face between-

“I’m just saying, be careful. I know him.” My brother knocks my foot with his so i’ll pay attention again.

“So do I… He definitely doesn’t care about me. Not in that way, or any really.” I go to pick up my book again, praying that this conversation will be over.

He stops me, “Y/n, I’m serious.”

“So am I.” I’m serious too. He stopped me before we could go all the way and I think a part of that is my brother's influence and room downstairs. I shut my book, “Lando doesn’t like me, he likes to flirt and he likes to piss you off. I’m an easy outlet for that.”

Max shakes his head, “Don’t let him kiss you.” Oh my poor naive brother…

“I won’t!” I laugh when I say it because I'm lying directly to his face.

⋆༺

lando

“I’m going to the store or else we will stare!” Y/n wraps a thick scarf around her neck, “Anyone wanna join?”

Now think with me here.

If the girl you went down on is looking incredibly beautiful again and asking if you would like to spend more time with her, despite sleeping in your bed with your arm around her the whole night, what would you do?

I guess my real question is, How eager is too eager?

I play it cool, pretending like I’m not jumping for joy in my mind that I've finally gotten to her. “I’ll go.”

She rolls her eyes when Max and P stay silent but I know she’s happy.

The car ride there is quiet, I convince her to let me drive as she reads off the list of things we need. The snow came down hard last night so the fact that we even made it to the store is a blessing.

Y/n is now leaning against the trolley, her back arched as she leans over it and walks. I follow her like a fucking puppy.

“Bacon.” I grab it for her.

“Olives.” I grab it for her.

“Fusilli…” I stop.

“Fusilli?” I groan, “Can’t we have Penne?”

She frowns, looking up at me as I hold the two boxes of pasta. “You’re such a child. We’re not having Penne for Christmas eve dinner.”

“Why not? It’s pesto! It’s only right.”

“Well it’s not very christmassy.” She puts her hand on her hip, her fingers tapping against her waistband. The same fingers that were in my hair last night.

“Wanna go make out?”

She grabs the Fusilli and rolls the trolley away from me. I laugh and follow her. She reaches for the wine she likes but I grab it before she can break anything, handing it to her I say, “What else is on that list of yours?”

She sends me off to grab tomatoes and garlic. I grab some mozzarella on the way but am stumped while looking for the garlic.

I finally spot it but a woman is standing in front of it, making the tiny food out of my reach. I pretend to look at something else and hope she will go away but am surprised at her commitment to finding the correct pickles.

I finally give up, knowing Y/n will be annoyed if I take too long because her ice cream might melt, “Excuse me.” I say as she steps back.

“Yes?” She looks at me with a smile as I awkwardly return it.

“Sorry, I need to grab the garlic.” She moves and I grab some, “Thanks.”

“No problem, sorry for being in the way.” The way she giggles makes my smile falter, “I like your shirt! Do you like racing?” I’m wearing an old McLaren shirt that I didn’t expect would be seen because it’s so cold out.

I clear my throat, “Yeah.”

“Me too!” Oh god i’m stuck. “I love McLaren as well.” Right….

“Do you follow indy car or Formula one…?”

“Formula one!” I can’t tell if she’s tricking me or just lying. “How about you?” And she’s definitely just stepping closer to flirt with me.

“Indy car!” I step back, trying to go but she keeps talking!

“Formula one is just so glamorous! I went to a grand prix once and…”

“Lan.” My tension is released as soon as Y/n rolls up with the cart, “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She sounds pissed off and very dry which almost makes me laugh.

“Oh!” the woman's smile turns sour, “Don’t worry.”

“We should go.” Y/n says, smiling politely.

“Don’t want the ice cream to melt!” I agree with her and practically run away.“Awkward that she didn’t know who she was talking to.”

Y/n scoffs, “Yeah I don’t think she actually liked F1…”

I laugh as we approach the checkout and I get a glimpse of her face. “Oh my god.”

She eyes me as we put the items up, “What?”

“You’re jealous.” She looks horrified that I even suggested it.

“I am not!”

“You so are!” I laugh, “Admit it. She was just talking and you called me Lan and you gave her the stink eye!” She doesn’t reply, just finishes with the food and moves to the register. “Do you know how many men flirt with you on a daily basis! Especially this trip!?”

The worker smiles at her and our things get bagged quickly, “Y/n…” I say teasingly as we leave the store.

“Shut up, Norris.” she snaps.

I open the trunk, leaning over the filled trolley to get closer to her, “You can be jealous. It’s hot.”

She goes to say something but shuts her mouth, loading the bags into the car and slamming her door shut.

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