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pedroscurls · 2 months ago

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runaway bride (one-shot)

summary: on the day of your wedding, you find out that your maid of honor and husband-to-be has been hooking up behind your back... and you run directly into the arms of a stranger to help you cope with the sudden betrayal. pairing: old man!logan x fem!reader content warnings: smut (18+, mdni), oral - f receiving, dirty talk, manhandling, light choking, unprotected p in v sex (be safe folks!), doggy style, cowgirl, public sex in his limo, creampie but logan just keeps going, mentions of cheating (but not from logan), toxic relationship / friendship, implied age gap (but no mention of how old reader is), no use of y/n. word count: 3.6k a/n: ok, this is complete filth. i'm not even sure how this story came about or how it even came to mind, but here it is... i wanted to write old man logan so badly so what better way to do that is to write a smutty one-shot???

“Are you fucking serious?!” you exclaim, having opened the door to see your fiancé and your maid of honor in a heated kiss, hands exploring each other’s bodies. They both pull away from each other abruptly, eyes widening as the sudden realization of getting caught now settling in.

“Baby, it’s not–”

“Fucking save it.” You remove your engagement ring and toss it in his general direction, tears trickling the corners of your eyes.

Your best friend tries to step forward, but you raise your hand in the air and glare at her. “Don’t fucking get near me or I will lay you on your ass.”

“I’m sorry–” your fiancé begins to say.

“We’re done.” you interrupt, anger fuming in your veins. “You can go out there and tell everyone that the wedding’s canceled because fuck you,” you tell him and then point to your maid of honor, your best friend of over fifteen years. “And fuck you.”

You don’t even bother to hear their protests, already having turned on your heel and left the building without telling anyone. You see two limos parked out front, knowing that one belonged to your bridal party and the other belonging to your fiancé and his groomsmen. You don’t have time to think which one was the limo you rode in, already wanting to leave far, far away from here.

Pulling open the door, you slide inside and then finally allow yourself to let the tears fall. You bury your face in your hands, your breaths coming in pants.

“Just– Just take me anywhere else but here,” you tell the driver, looking up and expecting to see the same driver from this morning. When you realize it’s someone else entirely, you bite your lower lip and shake your head. Of fucking course you chose the limo that your fiancé had been in.

“A bit early to be leaving your own wedding, isn’t it?” he says, looking at you from the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, well, the wedding is off. Can you just take me away from here?”

Logan clears his throat. It doesn’t take a genius to know what might have happened, but he also knows that you’re not the one who he’s meant to drive and he’s certainly aware that you aren’t the one who’s going to be paying him either.

“Listen, darlin’, I’m supposed to be driving the groom and–”

“Well, he can go fuck himself. Can you please just drive?”

“Last I checked, he’s paying me and you ain’t.”

“Oh, he’s gonna still pay you. Now, drive.” you tell him, holding his gaze. “Please.”

Logan stares at you. He isn’t sure what exactly happened, but based on the conversations he heard the groom and groomsmen having earlier that morning, he has some idea that it had to do with the groom cheating on you. He just lets out a grunt and then starts the engine, pulling away from the curb and driving away from the venue.

He doesn’t know where he’s supposed to go or where you want to go, so he just drives. Logan continuously looks at you from the rearview mirror, now fully taking in your features. Logan wasn’t a man who ever cheated on a woman he was with; he’s always been so loyal, especially to the ones he cares about the most. He never understood why men (and women) cheat, why they just couldn’t end the relationship if they were no longer happy.

He hears you sniffling from the backseat and Logan slowly comes to a stop at a red light. He turns his head to look at you from over his shoulder. “Bub, you gotta tell me where you wanna go or else I’m just gonna keep charging him.”

“Good. Let’s take a trip to fucking Mexico and make him pay for it,” you say through gritted teeth.

Logan lets out an amused chuckle and then presses lightly on the gas once the light turns green. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel as he uses his free hand to enter Mexico on his phone and–

“Wait, I wasn’t serious.”

“No? Then, where do you wanna go, darlin’?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Anywhere but here.” you mumble to yourself.

Logan nods to himself and then sets his focus on the road ahead of him. He doesn’t know where to go, but he does find that he doesn’t want this ride to end. Even in the silence, he finds your presence soothing, comforting. He knows you’re having a shitty day – after all, you probably had woken up this morning expecting to be married by the end of today.

He does keep stealing glances at you, finding you completely captivating. Even when your eyes meet his from the rearview mirror, Logan feels like he had been caught staring and a blush slowly blooms across the side of his neck. He’s too old to be feeling like this, like some kind of a teenager with a crush on the most beautiful girl who’s out of his league.

“How about some food?” Logan asks after driving for about twenty minutes. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he sighs. “Wanna go to a bar? Drink your problems away?”

“No.”

Logan tightens his jaw and then pulls into a gas station, putting the car in park as he turns around to look at you. You bite your lower lip, getting a good view of just how handsome your driver is. He’s definitely older than you, gray in his beard and hair, crow’s feet at his eyes, but you can’t help the attraction you feel towards him. Suddenly, you’re well aware that you’re staring too long at him because when you finally meet his eyes, he’s smirking.

“Why’d we stop?” you ask.

“Gotta fill up, especially if I don’t know how long I’ll be driving you around,” Logan replies. “You want anything from inside?”

Just as the question leaves his lips, you climb out from the backseat and walk inside. Logan sighs and steps out of the limo as he follows you into the small store. He towers over you and he can’t help but get a good look at the dress you’re wearing. You look so angelic, so beautiful and serene – how could anyone think that there’s better than you?

“Get whatever you want,” Logan calls out and you suddenly turn around to look up at him. He watches your lower lip pull itself between your teeth, sees your eyes take in his frame from top to bottom, and suddenly, he feels very shy under your gaze. Logan clears his throat, eyes narrowing. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, tilting your head up at him. “Just didn’t think… Well, not all limo drivers look like you.”

“Not all limo drivers are like me either,” he mutters to himself. “Right. I’ll be up at the front. Just meet me there once you’re ready.” Then, Logan turns on his heel and slowly limps his way to the front, only glancing over his shoulder to briefly look at you. Your back’s already turned as you reach for a few items in the freezer section.

After a few minutes, you meet Logan at the front of the store and drop two bottles of water and a cherry-flavored popsicle. Logan eyes you suspiciously, but you keep your eyes trained on your feet. He has to wonder if your mind is drifting to your fiancé. Once Logan pays the cashier, he motions for you to walk ahead of him with a slight nod and then he follows you outside. Logan quickly limps to the door and opens it for you, staring down at you.

“Here,” you tell him, handing him one of the bottle of waters.

Logan arches a brow. “Thanks,” he mumbles, the close proximity almost making him weak in the knees. His eyes deviate to your cleavage, clearing his throat when his mind begins to drift. All Logan can think about is seeing you come undone underneath him, trembling and moaning because of him. He has to take a step back, has to create some distance between your bodies.

You then remove the wrapping of the popsicle and then wrap your lips around it, the deep red popsicle now coloring your lips. You keep your eyes locked on his and smile mischievously before you climb back inside. Logan shuts the door once you’re inside, the image of your lips around the popsicle giving him a clear image of your lips wrapping around his–

He hears the window roll itself down and Logan quickly walks around to the other side to fill up the tank, not bothering to look into the backseat as he feels the center of his black pants begin to tighten with each passing second.

Logan hasn’t been intimate in a very long time, his main concern being Charles and his own health, but you… Well, you’re stirring something in Logan that he thought lay dormant. He craves you and he knows that you’re also very vulnerable, having just ran away from your own wedding after finding out your fiancé was cheating on you. Logan doesn’t want to take advantage of you, despite sensing that you might want him too.

Once the tank is filled up, Logan then walks back to the driver’s seat and climbs in, starting the car. He looks at you from the rearview mirror, still sucking on the fucking popsicle with a dark gaze in your eyes.

“Where to?” he says, not realizing how quiet his voice comes out.

“Anywhere.”

“Making it real difficult for me, bub.”

You pull the popsicle away from your mouth a quiet pop! and then lets a small smile line your lips, deeply red from your cherry-flavored popsicle. Logan’s hands grip the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white and his claws threatening to come out as a result.

“Fine. How about your place?”

Logan lets out a quiet cough, not thinking that you’d be so forward and straight to the point. He shakes his head and then looks over at you from over his shoulder. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, darlin’. You’re only going to regret it and–”

“Listen, I just found out my fiancé and maid of honor were screwing around behind my back. The only regret I have right now is saying yes to marry that man and being friends with that woman. I don’t think I’m going to regret fucking you, though.”

Logan isn’t used to women saying what they want as bluntly as you do and it excites him. He doesn’t answer, just begins driving away from the gas station. He’s so hard beneath his pants, glancing over at you and seeing your eyes locked completely on his. He pulls up into an abandoned parking lot and parks the car, thankful that the windows on his limo are tinted. Logan climbs out from the driver’s seat and then opens the door to the backseat, gently reaching out to take the popsicle from your hands and tossing it over his shoulder.

“Let’s have you suck something else, huh, darlin’?”

You grin and then gently tug on the lapel of his jacket, pulling him inside with you as you shut the door behind him. You’re glad that the backseat of his limo is actually rather spacious because now that he’s hovering above you, he seems so much bigger than you, so much more broad. Your hands immediately move across his chest, feeling the chiseled muscles underneath your fingertips.

“I don’t normally do this,” Logan groans, feeling your lips move along the side of his neck, teeth grazing his skin.

“And what’s that? Fuck your passengers?”

He growls lowly, moving his strong hands to your hips and pressing himself firmly against your lower half as he settles himself between your legs. “You always got a mouth on you?”

You smirk and pull the ends of your dress higher up your legs until you bunch it at your hips, your white lace panties in full view for him. “Only when I want something.”

“Yeah, and what do you want?” Logan asks, hands moving to play with the waistband of your panties.

“A distraction,” you grip the lapels of his jacket and bring him down to press your lips against his. He growls against your lips and tugs down your panties, hand moving quickly to your folds and running the length of his finger across your wet heat.

Logan slides two fingers into you, not giving you time to get used to his thick digits. You let out a quiet gasp, pulling away from his lips to toss your head back at the intrusion. Logan moves you to sit back against the seat as he lies on his abdomen, lowering himself until his head settles between your legs.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him between your legs, your fiancé having never done this for you. When you feel his mouth latch onto your clit, his tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly as his fingers thrust in and out you, you have to let out a loud moan. Your hands move to his hair, gripping it tightly as your arousal drips onto the leather seat.

Logan pulls his fingers out of you and laps at your juices. He stares up at you, watching as you toss your head back in ecstasy, your mouth agape as continuous moans escape your lips, and he can feel your walls begin to tremble, begin to tighten around his tongue. Logan knows his joints and muscles are going to ache after this, but he knows it’s going to be worth it. Knows that he’s going to want to do this again with you.

With his free hand, Logan undoes the buckle on his belt, followed by undoing the zipper and button on his pants. He pushes his slacks and boxers down his legs to relieve the pressure against his manhood. He pulls back to look up at you, his chin and beard dripping wet from your slickness.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he growls.

“About fucking time.”

Logan narrows his eyes and moves up your body, hand coming up to rest on your throat. He leans down and gently nips at your jawline until his forehead rests against yours, eyes staring deeply into your own.

“You like this, don’t you, bub?” Logan whispers huskily, the grip around your throat tightening to add a bit of pressure. You gasp, eyes staring up at him as you feel the tip of his length brush against you repeatedly. The grip around your throat only makes you wetter and you lift your hips impatiently, chasing his hardened length to slide down onto him.

“So impatient,” he grins. Logan releases his grip around your throat and then grabs your hips, turning you over onto your stomach. He grabs you roughly, pulling you back into him as he grips the fabric of your dress. He pulls you to prop yourself on your hands on knees as he kneels behind you, gripping the base of his manhood as he rubs his tip along the length of your sex.

“Please!” you say impatiently, trying to push back against him.

Logan smirks and then pushes himself into your tight heat, not wasting any time in filling you to the hilt. He groans at your wetness, at the warmthness of your walls, the tight hold it has around his girth. He pulls back to his tip, only to slam back into you. Logan was telling the truth that he’s never done this before. Driving had only been a way for him to get extra cash, to keep his mind busy, and he certainly didn’t have time for this, but now he can’t even imagine parting ways with you after this.

His thrusts continue, your walls sliding along his manhood and milking him with every movement. Logan moves to rest his chest firmly against your back, his lips hovering near your ear as you moan continuously with each thrust he delivers.

“This what you wanted, huh, bub?” Logan growls, gently nipping at you earlobe. “Wanted me to fuck you like this?” He thrusts roughly into you, his skin slapping against yours.

“Y–Yes!” you exclaim, slowly pushing your own hips back into his. Logan groans, leaning away from you and briefly pausing his movements to watch you move along him. He grunts to himself, lightly slapping your backside as he watches you push back against him.

Logan watches himself disappear within your depths, only to reappear when you pull back, his entire length glistening with your arousal. He groans to himself and gently pulls out of you. You’re about to protest when he sits against the backseat and grabs you by the hips, placing you to sit on his lap. He grips your dress and rips it in half, causing a loud gasp of surprise to leave your lips.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Fuck the dress,” you reassure him. “I didn’t pay for it anyway.”

Logan smirks and then feels you lower yourself down onto him, groaning at your tight walls wrapping itself once more around him. He reaches around and undoes your white lace bra, watching it fall from your body as you now sit firmly on his lap, completely naked and exposed for him.

“Fuck me,” he grunts, watching your breasts bounce with your movements. He feels your hands begin to undo the buttons on his white button down shirt, removing it from his body. Today, he opted to forgo his usual white tank top, so when you lean in to press your chest against his, he can’t help but groan at the sensation of your erect nipples pressing firmly against him.

Logan feels your walls begin to tremble with each movement and he leans in to press his lips against yours, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. With one hand, he moves to grip your throat lightly, sliding his tongue past your lips when you let out a loud moan. He stares up at you, thrusting his hips upwards when your body begins to shake and the grip around your throat only tightens a smidge to cause pressure.

Your eyes shut tightly and you reach down to grip his shoulders, slamming yourself firmly onto his lap as he feels you to the hilt. Logan doesn’t falter his movements though, chasing his own release. It comes out of nowhere there, hand dropping from the grip around your throat to grab his base, thrusting upwards once, twice, before he pulls out to see his release trickle out of you.

You’re breathing heavily and you’re looking at him with a small smile and hooded eyes. When he looks down between your legs, his come continuing to trickle down your leg, it only ignites a fire inside of him and he suddenly feels hard again.

“One more, bub,” Logan growls. “One more.” He thrusts his tip inside of you, grunting lowly before he slides back into you, hands gripping the meat of flesh on your thighs as he feels the stickiness of your arousal mixed in with his come against the base of his lower half.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging them down his arms as your walls are already overly sensitive. Logan doesn’t falter, but his thrusts do become more erratic. “Oh god,” you whimper, trying to pull yourself away from him, but Logan holds you firm on his lap, making you take his assault on you.

You wanted a distraction and you were certainly getting it.

Logan leans up and gently nips at your jawline as he plants his feet on the floor of his limo, driving his hips further upwards. He does this a few more times before he holds you against him, releasing into you a second time as he paints your walls with his thick spend. He’s breathing heavily, forehead resting against your chest as his hands on your thighs move to rest on your hips.

“I uh, fuck,” he mumbles. “I should have asked first and–”

“Stop,” you interrupt. “I like that I can still feel you inside of me,” you smile, feeling him slowly pull out. Even though you miss his girth, his release remains and fills you up. You reach down to wipe the trickle of his come off your inner leg and capture it on the pads of your fingertips. You stare into his eyes and then bring your fingers to your lips, wrapping your lips around it and sucking his release off of it. “Mmm, yum.”

Logan growls, feeling his length stir awake once more. “That want you wanted?” he asks again. “A distraction?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But I think I’m gonna want more distractions from you.”

Logan smirks. “That so, bub?”

“Oh yeah, I need someone to help me through this breakup,” you say honestly. “As long as that’s okay with you…”

Logan nods and then looks down at your exposed front, hand coming up to slowly knead your breast into the pit of his palm. “Yeah, baby. That’s more than okay with me.”

You grin excitedly, letting out a quiet whimper. “So… Your place then?”

“My place,” he confirms. “But how about you ride up front with me?”

“Yes, please. I do want a taste of you,” you bite your lower lip, hand moving to gently run your fingertip along the length of his manhood. “And I want to do it while you’re driving.”

Logan groans. “Oh, you’re fucking naughty, aren’t you?”

You nod shyly, biting the inside of your cheek. “I’ve been suppressed,” you admit. “My sex life has been… boring, to say the least.”

“Blessing in disguise,” Logan points out. “Thank god you’re not getting married to a man who doesn’t take care of your needs.” He leans in and then pecks your lips. “Don’t worry, though, bub. I’m happy to take care of you until then.”

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forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman character #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fanfic #old man logan #wolverine #old man logan fanfiction #old man logan howlett #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #story: runaway bride

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em-ontv · 3 months ago

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Get a room.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: After a particularly bad hunt, you were patching Dean up in the motel room, but he said he needed to be healed up the right way.

Content: fluff(?), kisses, Sam kind of being the third-wheel, no use of y/n, mentions of injury

English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: 698

You and Dean had just stumbled back to the bunker after a long, exhausting hunt. It was one of those hunts where everything that could go wrong, did. Dean had taken a hit from some nasty vamp, even after you told him to be careful, but Dean? Nah, that word wasn't in his vocabulary. And while he made no big deal of the gash, you knew it was serious enough to need a little patching up.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt off, grimacing slightly as you cleaned up the deep cut on his shoulder.

"Ow—! Careful," Dean grimaced, shooting you a mocking glare. "You trying to finish me off, sweetheart?"

"Quit being a baby," you shook your head. "You're lucky this didn't go deeper."

“I’m always lucky,” Dean responded, a smirk spreading across his face despite his slight wince when you dabbed the cloth on his wound again.

"Uh-huh. I should just leave you to bleed out next time, it would save me a whole lot of trouble." you muttered, beginning to bandage him up, nodding in approval of your work once you secured it.

Dean shifted, sighed, then flashed you a lopsided grin. "I think you missed a step, sweetheart."

"What step?" you raised an eyebrow, confused.

“For me to fully heal… there’s only one thing that’ll work.”

“What?" you almost rolled your eyes. "Lemme guess, whiskey and pie?”

He grinned wider. “Nope. Kisses. Specifically, from you. On my face. All over. Only way this wound’s gonna close up right.”

You snorted. “Right. Because that's definitely how medical science works.”

Dean winced dramatically. “You don’t believe me? It’s a foolproof healing method. I swear it.”

"C'mon, don't leave me hanging here—this is life or death." He added for good measure, tapping a finger to his cheek.

Despite yourself, you laughed. “You are so full of it, Winchester.”

“One kiss. Or like… fifty. But who's counting?” He shrugged.

You sighed, fully aware you were playing into his game but too tired to fight it. You leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, where his finger tapped relentlessly until you gave in.

“There you go,” Dean said, clearly pleased. “But you missed a spot—” He pointed to another area, so you kissed it too. “And there—” Another kiss. “And the forehead—” You kissed his forehead. “And—”

“Okay, Dean, that’s enough."

"Not enough. I can still feel the pain." He let out an over-the-top groan.

You sighed in exasperation, considering to either just punch him across the face or keep giving into him—you chose the latter.

Just as you were placing more kisses onto his face—the grin on his lips made him look like a love-drunk idiot—the door swung open.

Sam walked in with some takeout bags, he froze in the doorway, eyes widening as he took in the scene: you, practically sitting on Dean’s lap, showering his face with kisses, while Dean looked way too proud of himself.

“What did I just walk into?” Sam groaned, immediately making a beeline to the table to avoid getting another glance at the two of you.

"Hey, it's a part of the healing process, Sammy." Dean smirked, looking over to his brother.

Sam blinked, then made a face like he just swallowed something sour. “Gross. Seriously, guys, get a room.”

“We’re technically in a room, you know.” you said, getting off of Dean who seemed too reluctant to let you go.

"A room that you walked into." Dean added, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Sam set the food down, still shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, well, next time, maybe give me a warning first so I know not to come in while you guys are having a whole smooch-fest."

"You're just jealous."

"You two are impossible."

"Buzzkill."

Sam just groaned in annoyance again, starting to unpack the food.

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, feeling a bit guilty—though not that guilty. You glanced at Dean, who tugged on your hand with a happy expression.

"Next time, we're giving you painkillers." you said, lifting your hand up and running your finger through his hair.

"Not a chance." Dean smiled.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #supernatural #spn #dean winchester oneshot #spnfandom #spn fanfic #spnfamily #dean winchester spn #supernatural family #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction

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nottsangel · 1 year ago

Text

our girl — j.m & r.c.

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader x rafe cameron

warnings: smut 18+, violence, polyamorous relationship, threesome, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving), possessiveness, degradation, praise, fingering, hair pulling, creampie, squirting, spitting, kelce and topper walking in lol

word count: 2.6k

summary: your boyfriends show their possessive side when they see someone flirting with you at a party.

a/n: based on a lucid dream i had. i died while writing this

nav. // m.list // taglist

“You want another drink?” Sarah asked, downing what was left of her drink in one gulp. “No thanks, I’m gonna look for Rafe and JJ actually, haven’t seen them yet” you replied, your surroundings slightly spinning as you were already feeling pretty intoxicated. You smiled briefly at Sarah before walking away from the pool and heading inside Rafe’s house, the music of the party increasing.

It’s been a few months since you started dating your boyfriends— yes, boyfriends, because both of them were too obsessed with you so they decided to share you, treating you like their princess. It was intense sometimes, especially at the beginning when they had to get used to one another. Besides, a lot of people had various opinions on your relationship, but you still felt thankful and privileged to have boyfriends who were so sweet and caring. Especially considering that many girls would die to be in your position. Tonight is another one of Rafe’s parties, inviting all his kook friends as well as some pogues since JJ insisted on his friends being invited too.

You walked inside the crowded house full of intoxicated people and kissing couples, trying to find them. You glanced around, seeing many familiar faces but not your boyfriends. Just as you turned to go into another room, your arm was suddenly grabbed firmly. “Hey, beautiful.” you felt relieved, thinking it must’ve been Rafe or JJ when you realised you didn’t recognise the voice. You turned around in confusion and saw a blonde frat-looking guy check you out with a smirk on his face and a red cup in his hand. His blue eyes were fully fixed on you with a cocky smile on his face.

“Do I know you?” you asked, brows knitted together in confusion as you tried your best to refresh your memory, afraid that your intoxicated state made you forget who he was. “I’m Ryan. I used to hang out with Rafe, you know, back when he used to fuck a different girl every week” he said with a chuckle as you arched an eyebrow, unsure why he would bring that up. His smile vanished at the sight of your serious expression, before continuing, “Anyway… you want a drink, sweetheart?” he asked, motioning towards the drinks table. You gazed at him, wondering if he was aware of the dangerous game he was playing.

“No, thank you. I have to g-“ you started but he quickly cut you off, “Oh, come on! You think I’m scared of your boyfriends? One drink won’t hurt, loosen up a bit” he argued before he dragged you to the drinks table. You attempted to break free from his hold, but you were too intoxicated to react quickly and he was way stronger than you, clearly taking advantage of the situation.

“Here you go.” he said, handing you a new drink as you looked at it nervously. When he noticed your anxious expression he slid a hand around your waist as he came closer to you. “Hey, hey, don’t worry. Just wanna get to know my friend’s girlfriend, that’s all. I respect Rafe, you know.” he explained, easily convincing you in your drunken state as you took the cup from him with a relieved smile.

“So, tell me about-“ he started before being interrupted in an instant when his name was called, “Ryan!” You peeked around Ryan’s towering frame and saw Rafe and JJ making their way to you. Ryan instantly took his hand off your waist and went from having a relaxed stance to one that was stiff and nervous. Rafe had a menacing smile on his face as he eyed Ryan and JJ walked next to him, toying with the toothpick in his mouth.

“I see you’ve met our girlfriend.” Rafe said, standing just inches away from you two. “Such a pretty little thing, hm?” JJ added with a cheeky grin, clearly not taking the poor guy seriously. “Yeah man, we just talked about… stuff. She-she’s nice” he stammered, evidently nervous. Rafe nodded with a downward smile on his face and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “I see, I see…”. “Look man, nothing happened, okay? We just talked, that’s it.” Ryan spoke up, trying his hardest to explain himself while JJ and Rafe exchanged glances, before giving each other a nod. “Fucking dumbass.” JJ sneered under his breath as he walked over to you, an arm sliding around your waist as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I understand man, no worries.” Rafe reassured before placing his arm over Ryan’s shoulder, “Let’s catch up outside, hmm? We haven’t spoken in so long, lots to talk about.” Rafe said as he led Ryan outside, making you turn to face JJ with a worried expression on your face. “What’s he going to do with him, J?” you asked, your brows knitted in concern. “Sssh, don’t worry about it, baby. He’s just gonna ask him to leave, that’s all.” he reassured, taking the toothpick out of his mouth and moving his head closer before pressing his lips on yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you were heavily making out against the table, causing you to forget about everything else. You were so caught up in the moment that it took you a while to eventually pull away from JJ as he gazed down at you with a loving smile on his face.

When you glanced over JJ’s shoulder, you gasped as your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. Rafe leaned over Ryan, who was on the ground, repeatedly punching him until blood was everywhere. “JJ!” you yelled in horror while pointing at the scene. “Oh, fuck” JJ muttered, not necessarily because of Rafe beating him up, but because of you witnessing it. He quickly spun you around so your back was facing the scene before cupping your face in his hands and desperately kissing you again in an attempt to distract you. You instinctively wrapped your arms around JJ’s neck, your intoxicated state causing you to forget about the situation again and only feeling hungry for JJ as you pressed him closer to you. His hands already found your ass as he squeezed it, not giving a fuck about anyone watching.

“My room. Now” Rafe ordered as he suddenly walked past you both, causing you to pull away from JJ as you watched Rafe climb the stairs. JJ grabbed your hand as he smirked at you, “You heard him, princess. Let’s go.” he said, pulling you along and leading you upstairs.

“Am I… Am I in trouble? you asked with a soft voice, following JJ in the hallway as you passed several kissing couples. JJ chuckled as he held the door handle to Rafe’s room. “I think we both know the answer to that.” he replied, making you gulp for a moment as he opened the door.

Rafe stood in the centre of the room, his arms folded with an angry expression on his face. Rafe's intimidating frame was accentuated by the lack of light in the room, as only a few red LED lights provided illumination. Even though JJ shut the door behind him, there was still a faint sound of shouting and music coming from downstairs through the walls. “Rafe, listen, I-“ Rafe interrupted you as soon as you attempted to explain, “We do the talking here, alright?” Rafe growled as JJ joined him, standing next to him as both of them eyed you while you walked to the bed, sitting down to relieve your sore feet from the heels you were wearing.

“You didn’t have to beat him up Rafe, I swear he didn’t do anything! He just offered me a drink and-“ you stopped when you heard both of them chuckle, looking at each other before gazing down at you. “I think our girl is a little confused, whatcha think J?” Rafe smirked while approaching you. “Nah, you’re right man. I think she forgot who she belongs to.” JJ agreed, nodding as he watched Rafe walk towards you.

Rafe bent down to get at eye level with you, then aggressively gripped your face, forcing you to look at him. “Two boyfriends is not enough for you? Hmm? God, you’re such a dirty little slut.” You were too afraid to speak as you gazed up at him. “Open that pretty mouth of yours” Rafe ordered and you obliged, opening your mouth widely before Rafe spit in it, “Swallow.” You swallowed while keeping your eyes on him, faces mere inches away from each other. A satisfied smile swept across Rafe’s face as he released his grip on your face, “Good girl.”

Rafe then moved aside, allowing JJ to approach you. JJ wasted no time and pushed you onto the bed, caging you in before planting sloppy kissing all over your neck and undressing you simultaneously, causing you to moan. “Tsk, what a dumb girl we have, Rafe.” he growled, sliding the straps of your dress down your arms before fully taking it off, leaving you in just your underwear. “But so fucking beautiful.” JJ took in your beauty with hungry eyes while biting his lip. He then discarded you of your underwear as well, tossing them across the room. “Make Rafe feel good, baby.”

JJ pushed himself off you while Rafe completely undressed himself, his fully erect cock leaking precum causing anticipation to rage through your body. He looked so beautiful— the red light accentuating the muscles on his body as he gazed down at you with dark eyes. He got on the bed, sitting against the bedframe before he grabbed your hair and pulled you towards him. “Be a good girl and suck.”

You drew your head nearer, licking up the precum and swirling your tongue around the tip, earning a groan from him. He impatiently pushed your head down, forcing you down his cock. His hand grabbed your hair in a ponytail, preventing it from falling in your face as he bobbed your head up and down. “Fuck, just like that.” Rafe groaned as JJ slapped you on the ass, causing you to jolt forward.

“Our pretty girl.” JJ praised while he teased your entrance with his fingers, gathering the wetness and drawing circles on your clit. You moaned around Rafe’s cock, only egging him on as he bucked his hips upwards, causing you to gag. JJ then inserted two fingers into you with ease, as far as they could go. “So fucking wet for us.” JJ curled his fingers up inside you, pushing against your g-spot, causing your eyes to flutter shut as you let out a loud moan around Rafe’s cock once again. Rafe now grabbed your head with both hands, fully face-fucking you, using you as his personal toy, while JJ’s fingers increased their speed, causing your orgasm to approach.

“Cum around my fingers, sweet girl. Make a fucking mess.” JJ’s words pushed you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you as you felt wetness all over. “Holy fuck, she squirted everywhere” JJ exclaimed, a chuckle leaving his mouth before he licked his fingers clean. “Dirty girl” Rafe groaned, his voice low and raspy as he continued to fuck your face.

You then heard the buckle of a belt behind you, and not much later you felt JJ’s cock teasing your folds, before fully pushing himself in. “Still so tight, fuck.” He groaned before setting a steady rhythm that made you grip the sheets. The sensation was almost becoming too much— the way JJ’s cock hit your g-spot repeatedly and Rafe fucking into your mouth, saliva running down your face.

Just as you were about to come, the door suddenly swung open, the music and yelling from downstairs filling the room. JJ's thrusts came to a half when all of you looked to your side as your eyes began to widen. “Hey, Rafe, you got some- No fucking way.” “Goddamn.” Both Kelce and Topper stood in the doorway, a smirk on both their faces as they eyed every inch of your body. “Well, this is awkward.” JJ uttered as his lips tightened into a thin line. An irritated sigh left Rafe’s mouth as he rolled his eyes, “Get the fuck out before I fucking kill both of you!” He shouted, Kelce and Topper snickering when they left the room and shut the door behind them.

“Now, where were we?” JJ asked before abruptly slamming into you again, causing you to fall forward on Rafe’s chest. “Hey, hey,” Rafe took hold of your head, pulling it up with both hands as he raised his eyebrows at you, “Did I say you could stop sucking? Don’t think so.” He pushed you back on his cock with his hand behind your head, guiding you. You could feel JJ’s thrusts getting sloppy and lose rhythm, knowing he was close. “Fuck, gonna cum so deep inside this pretty pussy.” he growled before painting your walls with his warm cum, his hands firmly gripping your hips. You could feel his sperm dripping onto the bed as soon as he pulled out.

Rafe shoved you off him, causing you to look at him with a questioning expression, given that he hasn’t cum yet. “ Wanna cum inside that tight pussy of yours, filling you with both our cum.” he said as he stood up and flipped you over, causing a small squeal to leave your mouth as you were lying on your back. He grabbed your legs and spread them wider before spitting on your cunt and pushing into you in one quick thrust, making you scream out his name loudly. He immediately set a relentless pace, gripping your waist as he pounded into you while grunting, your tits bouncing to his rhythm.

“Doing so well for us, princess” JJ praised as he sat next to you, grabbing your face and kissing you passionately with his other hand massaging your boobs. You moaned into JJ’s mouth as Rafe placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching even deeper parts inside of you. “You wanna cum?” Rafe asked as you nodded, your eyes closed as your vision became blurry, “Then fucking beg for it.” “P-please, let me cum. I need to!” JJ chuckled as his hand slowly travelled to your core, drawing fast circles on your clit. “You hear that, Rafe? Our poor girl needs to cum.” Rafe groaned as he increased his speed and placed quick kisses on your legs. “Then let’s help her.”

JJ’s fingers quickened their speed as he marked your neck in hickeys, causing you to grip his arm hard, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his skin and Rafe was close to coming too, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you. “Gonna cum for us, sweet girl?” JJ whispered into your ear and you could only nod, unable to speak. “Gonna fill you up so fucking good, like the dirty whore you are.” Rafe groaned before his orgasm struck, filling you to the brim with his warmth. You came not long after that, walls fluttering around Rafe’s cock as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the grip on JJ’s arm tightening. “Just like that, princess. Good girl” JJ praised as you came down from your high, chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath.

Rafe pulled out slowly and bent down to place soft kisses on your cunt before getting dressed immediately, causing you to look at him with a confused expression. “Be right back. J, take good care of our girl.” He instructed before exiting the room. “Yes, sir!” JJ replied jokingly before shifting his attention back to you. “W-where is he going?” you stuttered, still feeling disoriented due to your orgasm. “Probably killing Kelce and Topper for walking in and seeing you. You know how he gets.” JJ shrugged as he picked you up bridal style before you could say anything else, taking you to the bathroom, “Don’t worry about it. Come on, lemme take care of our pretty girl.”

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thelikesoffinn · 1 year ago

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„Astarion ending as the Vampire Ascendant is the correct ending for him, because it is what he wants.”

That is a claim I’ve been seeing pop up more and more often these days. And I think it’s both a very bold and a very odd claim to make.

But first things first: Hello, I’m a licensed social worker! So far, I’ve worked with children, refugees and youths with behavioural issues stemming from bullying and or abuse.

Please be aware that I will be mentioning different kinds of abuse, coping mechanisms, and victim/abuser relationships. If any of this is difficult for you, don’t force yourself through it. My jabbering about a traumatised vampire is not worth your wellbeing, not ever.

I will, however try to stick to Astarion and not use other examples. If, in any case, I do use a non-Astarion example, I’ll add a warning beforehand so that you can skip the part. And I’ll make it clear what will be discussed in the next bit, so that you have a chance to skip it entirely.

This is an effort to make this as accessible as possible for everyone that wants to indulge on a mad woman’s rambling – and I know there’s a few people that like this sort of stuff!

And, uh, there's obviously spoilers for all three acts. Serious spoilers, even.

Before I can get into the whole ‘why Astarion didn’t really want to ascend,’ we need to understand him a little more. And to understand this pretty boy’s brain, we first need to understand the gist of what we’re talking about when we throw around the word ‘abuse.’

“Abuse” is when someone is treated with cruelty, violence, or neglect – often to bad effect – on a regular basis. Repetitively. Check’s out for Astarion, I’d say, but we all knew that already. I mean, if one thing was obvious, it was this.

1. Astarions Abuse

Next we need to look at what kind of abuse Astarion faced over his long years of torment, seeing as different types of abuse will have different effects on the victim.

Not that that is anything we have to worry about with him – Astarion won the abuse lottery, to put it bluntly. In a horrible game of fate, he got everything. He himself indirectly mentions all the types of abuse he faced, albeit never using the correct terms.

The first we properly notice – fitting, seeing as it is often the most obvious form of abuse �� is the physical abuse. Astarions scars are probably the biggest tell Larian could shove down our throats, only underlined by Astarion’s tale about the night itself. About how Cazador ‘misspelled something’ every time he flinched or screamed and had to do ‘many corrections. On top of this, Cazador locked Astarion up for months on end and tortured him – or had him tortured – on a regular basis both as a rite and as a punishment.

Next up, we have the fact that Astarion was forced to basically prostitute himself repeatedly. This is what we call sexual exploitation.

“I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master.” – Act 2

Two hundred years is a long time, filled with great many people. Now, we don’t know how many of those people actually tapped into the sexual exploitation and how many he could just lure back with other means, but the fact that it happened a lot is undeniable.

Next we have a form of abuse that we often disregard in adults: Neglect. It sounds odd, I know, saying that a fully grown adult was neglected. They can care for themselves, can they not?

Well. Yes and no.

Adult neglect is proceeded by the condition that one adult has to lean on another adult to fulfil their needs for whatever reason. This could be anything, from disability to income-based issues.

Seeing as Astarion had absolutely nothing, while Cazador had everything, we can assume this was the case. Cazador had the house, the money, the power. Astarion owns but one pair of clothes, assumedly, that he has fixes over and over again. Fair to say, that’s pretty neglectful. (And it’s one more reason to shower the guy in pretty armour and camp clothes. Go ham, people.)

Last we have the form of abuse we actually get to witness later in the game – emotional abuse.

Once again, it’s undeniable that this happened. Especially since we’re all seeing it in the flesh upon meeting Cazador in his crypt.

“Have you no respect for yourself?”

“I strove for perfection in all things. Even those as imperfect as you.”

“A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts.”

“A pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything.”

All Act 3, Crypt

Here we have just a few examples of things Cazador throws in his face. It’s like reading a textbook on emotional abuse, this one (and it’s definitely a reason to throw hands).

Blaming the victim, keeping their sense of self and their self-worth as tiny as possible to make them cower and flee. A true classic.

This pretty much shows that Astarion suffered all forms of abuse we commonly see and it is implied – once again by Astarion himself – that at least a few of those instances were ritualistic.

Now, what does that mean exactly? Well, I fear I need to use a real example here, so please skip the next paragraph.

Ritualistic doesn’t refer to a proper ritual – it can, but that’s mostly a thing for those in a cult. So, we’re not necessarily talking about a ‘Vampire Ascendent Ritual’. A husband, beating his wife every evening after his third bottle of beer is also called ritual abuse. It happens regularly. It is part of a routine. Both parties know what will happen.

I can’t find the exact quote, so I’m working of my memory here, but at one point he said that when Cazador invited him to eat and he said yes, he would be served a putrid rat. If he said no, he’d be beaten.

The way it was phrased made it clear that it happened more than once and that Astarion clearly knew what would happen. So, this can be classified as ritualistic abuse.

2. A Note on Conditioning and Compliance

By default, abuse victims are conditioned to behave a certain way or in a certain fashion. This is a natural response to avoid further abuse.

In Astarion, the thing we see most often is his inherent need to please. Not literally, he doesn’t mind being an arsehole. But he initially feels the need to follow Tav’s orders, even if they go against his own wishes.

This can be clearly seen in the conversation with Araj Oblodra. Astarion very clearly doesn’t want to bite her. He doesn’t. But he will do so, if Tav tells him to. This behaviour is not conscious – he doesn’t know why he does it, he just does – and it is to be expected. This is how he kept himself save for two centuries, so of course he will fall back into his usual pattern when the pressure is high.

This goes hand in hand with the fact that most abuse victims don’t fight. Maybe initially, but not after long term abuse. Especially not after two fucking centuries.

This is true in Astarion – offered by his ‘siblings’ during act 3 and unhappily acquiesced by the man himself. Astarion stopped fighting and, once again implied, cowered, and did as he was told in order to survive.

3. The Astarion we know and love

Obviously, all that abuse does have an impact on our vampire boyfriend. He shows various common signs of abuse and just like with the forms of abuse, Astarion raked every coping mechanism he could find. (Not really, but it feels like it.) It’s also important to note that nearly all of the following things happen inwardly. Astarion is not one of the victims, that tries to rationalise and minimise the actions of his abuser. Quite the opposite, actually.

I’ll note from the beginning, that rationalisation will not be covered in this bit, as most examples will be important later on. But he definitely does it.

One of his biggest skills is to hide every ounce of fear or hurt behind sarcasm and snarky theatrics. He doesn’t seem to hide his anger much, though, so that’s something! Our boy is cool with anger, not so much with being afraid.

“Ahahaha, now that you mention it….I might have done…that.” – Act 3, regarding the Gur children

“The thing that will decide my fate forever more? Yeees, it’s been on my miiiind. Why?” – Act 2, regarding the Ritual

And there’s many more instances that prove this. Honestly, half his dialogue is sarcasm, so it would really be too long to get into and we all know what I mean, right? We have alltalked to the guy before. It’s obvious that he’s sarcastic to a fault.

This goes hand in hand with his penchant for defensiveness. I would personally state that he’s simply not really good with guilt. When talking about fear, he usually just opts for sarcasm or avoids the topic completely, but guilt especially has his defences going up. This is also when he’s most likely to shove all the blame off to Cazador.

“Don’t look at me like that. Cazadors orders.” – Act 3, Crypt

“I just did what I had to!” – Act 3, Crypt

And don’t get me wrong, he does that anyway. And with good reason. Astarion didn’t have a choice for the most part, but he’s still easy to shove things off.

This kind of connects to his penchant for denial.

Astarion doesn’t really like to talk about most things. He firmly believes he is an ‘action’ sort of person that just does instead of plans, which invertedly just means he’s great at pushing the thinking stuff away. He also likes to get rid of stuff, so that he doesn’t need to face it ever again.

“I never want to see these little scraps of misery again. The world doesn’t need to know my shame.” – Act 3, about the children

And yes, this partly rings true. He’s probably ashamed and doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s done. But it’s also very clear that he himself simply doesn’t want to face his own actions, something that is just underlined by his extreme willingness to red rid of the other spawn.

As mentioned by Astarion himself, he’s big on manipulation. I mean, I don’t think there is much explaining necessary. The guy is willing to do a whole lot in order to get what he desires – which mostly revolves around safety and survival, to be honest – and he’s not really shy about it either. And that’s despite the fact that he doesn’t really like intimacy – especially in form of sex.

It’s not a secret that Astarion is not big on sex and anything surrounding it. This goes far enough for people to consider him either ace or ace coded.

A claim that, personally, I’m not super in line with.

Now, it’s not entirely wrong and if this is your head cannon I’m surely not going to stand in your way – but on a larger spectrum, I think he’s more traumatised than ace. And while those go hand in hand sometimes, it’s a bit difficult for the ace community if you attach traumatised characters to them because it can fuel a whole lot of stigma that is honestly neither needed nor wanted. But I digress!

If it comes to his own behaviour, he’s great at minimising his mistakes. Honestly, he’s a master of minimisation. A very obvious and famous example would be:

“’Killed’ feels like a…strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour.” – Act 1, after killing Tav

Astarion. You literally sucked poor Tav dry and left them flopping around, cold, and dead. Killed is exactly the right word and we all know it.

“Quite the deviation from my usual routine. Capture, not lure. I didn’t bring them in with sweet rolls or anything.” – Act 3, Gur Children

This is another attempt at minimising what he did, if a bit less obvious because at this point there isn’t much he can say. But at least he didn’t sexualise the gur children, right? They’re still spawn but whoo, at least that didn’t happen.

The next point would be dissociation, which is extremely common in abuse victims – of all forms of abuse.

Astarion himself mentioned certain moments that could be classified as dissociation over course of the story, which is probably the coping mechanism I personally expected the most.

The pale elf has a penchant for violence, but he’s not entirely shameless or abhorrently vile, which gets clearer the more the story progresses. So, two hundred years of forced prostitution, torture and doing whatever other horrible things? Yeah, I’d be more surprised if he didn’t dissociate.

Examples of that would be:

“A moment of disgust to push myself through and then I could’ve carried on, just like before.” – Act 2, after Araj

“I felt nothing the moment I handed them over.” – Act 3, Gur Children

“Did you enjoy it? It felt like you weren’t fully there.” – Act 1, Tav after Sex

The latter is generally more of an assumption than actual prove, but with context it does make sense.

The last common sign of abuse we find in our boyfriend would be his low self-worth. It’s a consistent trait that stays over the course of all three acts, noticeable in many different conversations.

We can see it in his reaction to wanting to break up before finishing his story. We can see it in his genuine surprise when Tav picks him over any of the other characters. We see it in his insecurity whenever Tav asks to sleep with another character. He’s fine with it, but he still worries their decision to sleep with someone else is based on something he did.

It eases up ever so slightly after Cazador is dead, but even then he’s still struggling which is once again perfectly illustrated if you try to break up with him.

“Oh shit. I- Did I do something wrong?”

That is the first thing he asks and I think it speaks for itself. He genuinely doesn’t believe he has much to offer and for Astarion, it’s likely that Astarion will always be the problem.

4. "Oh, I tried them all none of them answered.”

Another big thing that’s important to note, is that Astarion was never saved. No one came to save him from Cazador. There was no darling boy on a white steed riding into that castle to rescue him and princess carry him away. Not even the gods answered his desperate calls.

So, he never received any kindness or luck. To him, the world seems as cruel and horrid as before because he didn’t have the chance to experience goodness in two centuries.

But worse than that, he didn’t even get to save himself. Astarion didn’t stand up to Cazador, he didn’t run out of his own might.

He was beaten to near death and ‘saved’ by Cazador, who would become his abuser.

He tried to save someone and, in turn, was locked up and starved for an entire year.

He was abducted by mind flayers, i.e., saved from Cazador, only to end up tadpoled and on the cusp of getting a fancy, squiddy beard.

Anything that’s good, any kindness, any selfless action…it all came with a ginormous price tag.

5. Over the Course of the Story

Astarions behaviour changes a whole lot over the course of three acts – which is important once we talk about his quests climax – so let’s review what we’re working with!

Act 1 Astarion is guarded as fuck. The man has walls around him that are so high, even the gods can touch them.

A lot of his behaviour in act 1 revolves around staying save and staying liked. He lies, manipulates, and flutters his lashes in order to get what he wants and needs. Instead of asking, like Wyll, Karlach and Gale do, Astarion uses all he has to offer to get by. He is still very much in survival mode and tries to weasel his way through an unfamiliar situation with familiar methods.

On top of that, and most notably, he’s absolutely not fond of kindness or selflessness.

#I saved a child and now my boyfriend is mad

Here, we are most likely to gain disapproval for doing the decent thing – unless you sent him outside for a minute whenever you’re being a good person.

And I’d assume that this is because of two things.

First: The very traditional ‘Why not me?’

As I mentioned before, Astarion wasn’t saved. He hasn’t experienced kindness in a very long time so seeing that the world is literally filled with kind people is hurtful. Why didn’t anyone save him? Why was he left to his own devices for so long? Why should he care about others when it’s so clear that no one ever cared about him? No, dead to all of them. If he didn’t get it, neither will they.

“And what am I owed? What about the injustices I suffered? Am I not entitled to anything?” – Act 3, Crypt

“I was in the prime of my life when I was turned. Everything was taken from me too.” – Act 3, Crypt

And secondly is the fact that, as I mentioned, goodness always has a price. And it’s one most people won’t be willing to pay. That’s how his life has been, so why would theirs be different?

This is precisely why Astarion may disapprove of kind actions, but he mostly neither approves nor disapproves if Tav asks for payment. That’s just how the world works.

Once you venture out into act 2, after getting to know him a whole lot more, he starts to mellow a bit – if only towards Tav.

“He’s afraid, so afraid, of everyone but you, who she should fear the most.” – Sceleritas about Astarion

His approval is a lot easier to gain – or at least keep! – and he tends to approve of some more proper actions. He doesn’t throw a fit if you promise to find Mol, he approves of Tav being kind to His Majesty, of saving Aylin and he even approves of Durge apologising to Isobel after threatening to rip her to pieces.

He's slowly starting to open up, allowing Tav to see some parts of him he previously kept hidden. He accepts their offer to help, if hesitantly and, by god, the man starts experimenting with boundaries.

The social worker in me is shedding tears at this. It’s my favourite thing to see in my clients and it’s no different here. Yay to saying no!

Of course, it’s still a bit hit or miss. If Tav urges him to bite Araj, for example, he will only to later notice that he didn’t fucking have to. He recognises this on his own and he calls Tav out on it. Just like he calls them out on not helping him with his Orthon quest.

Good job, chap. Good fucking job.

And the growth-train won’t stop going even as we reach act 3.

In act 3, there’s not many things he disapproves as of right now – those he does, mostly have to do with how Tav treats him and not with anyone else. In fact, he’s more likely to approve good behaviour now, like giving Yenna food or money.

And yes, we need to consider that this could simply be because he gets used to Tav’s behaviour and just learns to roll with it. But it’s also highly likely that he notices that there’s truly good people around. At least one person. And that person is not only good, no, they’re in the process of helping him break free once and for all.

They’re helping him save himself.

By act 3, he has learned that he can absolutely say his piece where Tav is concerned and he’s more likely to disagree with them on certain things. It’s seen during a lot of small dialogue that he’s no longer terribly afraid to be honest with them, willing to listen and talk and he’ll ask for help if he needs it.

“I can do this. But I need your help.” – Act 3, Crypt

Something that can be viewed both positively and negatively is that he’s definitely loyal to a fault. He will stick by Tav’s side, no matter what.

“I really hoped we could avoid being pawns for a dark god, but here we are, I suppose. I’m with you, my dear, wherever this might lead.” – Act 3, After Jaheira confronts durge

As I said, this can be both positive and negative. On one count, it’s a recipe for disaster, seeing as he could be waltzing into a really bad situation for Tav alone.

But on the other side…this is a man who only cared about himself because that is the only person he could afford to care about. He needed to survive. He now has enough room to breathe and the capacity to care for someone else and I’d be inclined to count that as a good thing.

6. The Crypt

All the progress he made in act 2 and 3 is nearly tossed into the wind as soon as the crew enters Cazadors castle.

It’s not an immediate thing, of course.

At first, Astarion tries to stay light and simple and he hides behind flippant tones and relaxed faces. The way he recounts this is almost comically disinterested and the façade is actually quite good.

It’s start’s cracking after we meet Godie, one of the people who tortured him on more than one account, but he mostly manages to remain as upbeat as one can honestly expect for the first half of the journey.

All that, however, is done for the very moment we meet Sebastian. His mask not only slips, no, it full on shatters and there’s none of his apparent lightness left.

Which, of course it does.

The man is suddenly faced with years and years and years of victims. Innocent, unlucky people he lured back to his master over two centuries. People he liked, people he pitied.

“It’s sickening, seeing them again.”

It’s basically a room filled with guilt, exclusively for Astarion. And, as we mentioned before…Astarion is not great with guilt.

The guilt, however, is not where it ends.

No, he’s also faced with reflections of his own past. The spawn pose as reminders of what he did, sure, but also as reminders of what he was.

Weak, desperate, hungry.

There’s an abundance of images of his worst moments, reflected back at him in the thousands. It’s probably like staring into a funhouse mirror, but instead of seeing yourself in a funky way he just sees everything he so desperately doesn’t want to be.

“It should be [who I am]! I don’t want to be like them. They’re pathetic, horrible…”

He’s forcefully made aware of how darn weak he can be, which claws at all the wounds he’s barely had time to close. Something, he of course won’t admit if asked.

“THEY DO NOT [remind me of myself]. That weakness in me is dead, IT’S DEAD. I have a higher purpose.”

The high pressure of the moment brings out all of his act 1 traits in but a few moments. You can pretty much watch how he starts to shut down mid conversation, one of his old walls snapping back into place to remove himself from the situation.

Thing is though, walls usually become a bit brittle after disuse. Especially when talking to a person you don’t usually want to wall out.

Or, in his case, when talking to Tav.

After meeting Sebastian, Astarion shows extreme reactions to Tav nudging any of his weak spots. His reaction varies on whatever choice you make, but it ranges from aggression to defensiveness, to denial and even to downright begging Tav.

“Don’t hate me. I just did what I had to. I swear I did what I had to.”

This probably the most shocking out of all of them, since that is not something we got to witness before. The begging is likely a mixture of intense fear of losing Tav, his low self-esteem and pre-Tav behaviour, since we can assume that Cazador made him beg more than once.

Another old coat he puts back on would also be the least surprising of them all.

Manipulation.

He falls right back into it, using Tav’s affection to get what he want if we trigger the right action.

“If they die and I ascend, I won't have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I'll be free. Truly completely free. Isn't that what you want?”

This, to me, was probably the biggest tell that Astarion was back in survival mode. He’s panicking, for fucks sake, and who can blame the guy? He’s back. He’s about to face down his abuser.

Of course he’s fucking panicking.

Panic leads to an increased craving for safety and, in his case, power. This is why he clings to Tav, why he begs them to love him still. And this is why he jumps head first into the rationalisation pool.

“I will need to sacrifice them all if I want to perform the ritual. - [You can save them.] – What’s the point? They're as good as dead! I thought they were dead. If they are unleashed, they will cause incredible carnage. […] They must die. Better they serve a purpose.”

Another textbook example.

They must die anyway. They’re basically dead. No need to save them now. They’re dangerous, I’m doing the right thing by sacrificing them. I already thought they were dead, so it’s not changing anything for me. They’re a lost cause and I deserve all this power. I deserve it, because I suffered and nothing will change if they die.

So, seeing as we already spoke about his usual behaviour in act 3 – behaviour he showed after we allowed him to breathe and be himself for a while – I think we can fairly easily conclude he’s not thinking straight.

Astarion is right back in survival mode, where all that matters is he himself. If it weren’t for the seven thousand spawns, he might have moved through this more gracefully, but seeing those tipped the scales and Astarion is absolutely losing it.

Remember that for the last section, per favore.

7. The Ascension

“Astarion wants to ascend and Tav manipulates him into doing what they want.”

That is basically the essence of what people often claim and I can’t help but shake my head at such a blatant disregard of everything he has become. This is completely ignoring the change and growth he has gone through over the course of their journey.

Astarion wants to be free. He wants to be safe. That does not mean he wants to ascend.

And the claim that Tav manipulates him into doing anything is even more baffling. We are all aware that Tav is not manipulative by nature, yes? That is entirely on you. You decide who your Tav is.

And then let’s remember: Astarion is panicked. He’s afraid and he’s not thinking straight. His abuser is on his knees before him and he still feels so weak. And there’s seven thousand spawns that need handling.

Astarion is very much not okay right now.

In fact, reading his thoughts just proves this theory.

“You can see the fear in his eyes but also the hunger. The thick smell of blood in the air and the promise of power being so close is intoxicating to him. All he can see is the power of the ritual and the freedom that power brings. The freedom to do anything. To be anything.”

Tav, however, has none of those problems. They can actually see beyond the current situation and they are fully aware what the consequences are. Astarion is not. As we previously established, Astarion is a doer. Not a thinker. He didn’t think this through, not at all.

The only thing Tav is doing – the persuasion roll – is reminding him of the very real consequences he is facing. The consequences he hasn’t thought about before.

"I know you think this will set you free, but it won't. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador."

And that is the kindest thing Tav could do in this situation. They’re not bodily dragging him away from Cazador. They’re not even telling him to not do it. They’re just offering him the truth. He can do with that information whatever he desires.

“Astarion cries when he doesn’t ascend, that just shows that it was the wrong choice.”

A hare-brained point that I thankfully have only seen once so far.

That crying? That is healthy crying.

That is him, crumbling under the stress that suddenly dissipates. That is him mourning two hundred years of torment. That’s him letting out feelings he hasn’t been able to for centuries.

And, for the love of god, try to put yourself in his shoes.

Two hundred years of torment, ended in but a moment.

Astarion was abused and tortured for so long, afraid for so long only to see his tormentor die just like that.

Cazador died within a moment and all Astarion needed was a darn blade. Of course he fucking cries.

Seeing how pathetic a being the very core of your life’s misery actually is hurts. It hurts like hell because not only are you finally free – free! – no, you’re faced with the fact that this pile of nothing, the thing that’s bleeding out right in front of you…this was what tortured for so long.

This thing hurt you so much. That guy took everything from you, everything you once were, and broke it again and again and again over years.

You were so scared of this thing.

And yet he has the gall and the gumption to die just like that.

It was so easy.

And yet you suffered for so long.

8. Evil Playthrough?

An evil playthrough is really a different setting altogether.

All of this, as you can probably tell, is really only applicable on a good playthrough. Realistically speaking. I’m not sure how the game mechanics handle it.

On an evil path, Astarion never really gets to experience kindness and goodness. Evil Tav will just prove him right in his believe that the world is a vile and cold place, meaning that he realistically would be more inclined to actually want to ascend.

9. Final Conclusion

I think all of this should be enough to make it clear that no, ascended Astarion is not the best ending for the guy. In fact, it is probably the worst. Because it’s just him, running away. He’s running into a lonely and cold state of being, where cruelty and power lord over everything else and he’s running because he’s terrified of being hurt again. He’s running despite desperately wanting to stop running.

“I'll spend the rest of my life running watching the shadows, never feeling safe…no, this has to happen. Here and now.”

And, the worst part is: Nothing about Astarion is left after he ascends. Even his tone of speaking gradually changes, his theatrics fading. He’s slowly losing himself, until there’s nothing but an evil caricature left.

So, in the end, ascension will have proven him right.

That version of him is dead.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate #bg3 #astarion #the dark urge #tav #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #astarion and tav #bg3 act 1 #bg3 act 2 #bg3 act 3 #act 3 #act 2 #act 1 #araj oblodra

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sinofwriting · 18 days ago

Text

Fling - Charles Leclerc

Words: 1,072 Summary: Charles overhears his girlfriend telling someone that they are just a fling and will be ending soon which is more than confusing for him. Note(s): Reader is plus size in this. It is not said outright but very much implied. Charles and Reader both suck at communicating btw. Also this is based on a somewhat recent convo I had with someone where they told me I’d be pretty if it weren’t for me being fat so… Good thing I have thick skin

Masterlist | Support Me!

“It’s not going to last.”

Her eyes flicker off her phone screen for a second, eyebrow raising just a hint before they go back, typing a message. “Okay.”

“That’s all you have to say? Okay.”

“Well, you were a bit vague.” She draws out the last word, sighing. “So, yeah,” she nods, pausing. “Okay.”

The other huffs, shaking her head. “Charles and you, it’s never going to last. It was a good fling, a summer romance, but by next year you’ll be gone.”

Her lips thin and she pockets her phone, finally making eye contact with Silvia. “I’m more than aware that I don’t look like Charles’ past partners and that you have more than your fair share of issues with that and me. But Silvia, you don’t have to state the obvious. I’ve been aware.”

The older woman’s eyes are wide.

“It’s called enjoying something while it lasts and I intend to do so, enjoy this thing with Charles until it inevitably comes to end. Probably in the next month. We all know how you like him to be single going into the new year.”

Respect settles across Silvia’s face. “You are different than I thought.”

“Should’ve had a conversation with me.” She counters and Silvia concedes with a nod of her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll put out an insta story saying we parted on good terms and that things just don’t always work out. I’d say better as friends, but I think you’d kill me if I ever showed up in the garage again after this.”

“Just a bit.” Silvia then frowns. “You really knew this was never going to last? Between you and Charles?”

“Silvia,” And her tone softens for the first time. “It’s like I said. I’m aware of what I look like, especially compared to Charles and his exes. But it’s Charles, I would have been more stupid to say no to him and then to have him for at least a few months.”

Silvia holds her gaze for a few seconds before nodding and reaching forward, patting her hand. “It is a shame how you look. You would have made the perfect partner.”

And she doesn’t even flinch at the insult to her weight.

—

“Is everything okay?”

Her eyes are full of concern as she watches Charles move around the hotel room. His body tense, lips pressed together, jaw twitching.

His nostrils flare and she swears she can hear his teeth grinding.

“I overheard something, you and Silvia.” He fully turns to look at her and she’s unable to even get a second to mourn the loss of his side profile as she sees hurt in his eyes that’s surrounded by frustration.

“We aren’t going to last? I’m leaving you in the next month?”

“Charles,”

“No.” He shakes his head, cutting her off. “This is all news to me.”

“Is it?”

His head jerks back, “what?”

“We never talked about being serious, Charles. And you have a type, I’m so far away from that type it’s not even funny.”

“We never talked about being serious because every time I try to talk about our future you shut me down, you change the subject. And my type is you!” His voice is louder. “I know what my exes look like, I know my pattern, the jokes of how and why I date, but you are the most gorgeous woman in the world, as soon as I saw you, my type changed, I have no type, it is just you. It’s been seven months and I haven’t even looked at another woman.”

Her mind is struggling to process, her heart nearly beating out of her chest, her mouth slack with shock.

“You never tried talking about our future.” It’s all she can say because she can’t think of a single time he brought it up, he tried bringing it up.

“I tried asking you to come to lunch with my brothers and mom.”

Her eyes widened. “That was in July.”

“I asked about holiday plans, I asked about meeting your family. If you wanted kids, when you wanted them. And all I know is that you are going to family for two days for the holidays and that you want kids. That is all I got out of you. I tried giving you a key to my apartment.”

“I’m only ever in Monaco when I’m with you. Why would I ever need a key?”

He flushes, rubbing at the back of his neck. “This might be my bad, it was my way of asking you to move in, or just keep things at my place at least.”

“Charles.”

“I love you.”

Her heart skips a beat and all the hurt and frustration that had been on Charles’ face is gone, replaced by something she’s never seen directed at her.

“I’m crazy in love with you. And obviously we both need to work on things, talking, but I want to do that. I want you. I want you to move in with me, to continue going to all my races, to chide Leo before cuddling him. I want to marry you. In a day, a week, a month, a year, I don’t care when. And I want children with you. I want them to have your smile, your laugh, your stubbornness even though it infuriates me.”

Tears are spilling down her cheeks, lip trembling, and she nearly can’t speak.

“Charles, I want you too. I want all of that. I love you.”

He’s striding forward, his hands gentle on her face as he steals the breath from her lips.

They’ve shared many kisses in the seven months since they’ve known each other, but none like this.

“We are never breaking up.” Charles states when he pulls away after brushing their lips together once more.

“Never.” She agrees, a rush of excitement flooding her as she realizes that she gets to have this, have him, and never give him up.

He smiles at the answer, at the happiness that has flooded her face, the tension he didn’t even know was there that has left her body. “Now, when would you like to get married? I think I have a favor or two I could call to get us married tomorrow if you’d like.”

“Charles,” She shakes her head.

“What?”

“Take me to bed.”

His eyes widen for a brief second and then a smirk plays on his lips. “Happily, amour.”

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #sins fics

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rileyslibrary · 10 months ago

Note

Okay okay but hear me out- reader gets assigned on their first solo mission by Price and Ghost is inwardly concerned for them and keeps subtly giving tips to reader about the basics of any mission as way to prepare them

Hi, anon and thank you for requesting this! I made some minor adjustments to the original idea since I got lost in the process once I began writing. Reader is also fully aware of Ghost’s concerns and messes with him.

Fluffy, the usual banter, an emotionally constipated Ghost, yada yada. Enjoy!

———————————————————————

“Again,” Ghost murmurs as he shuffles through the row of tactical knives on the table. He decides on one, picks it up and walks towards you. “What is this?” He asks.

You look up from tying the laces of your boots and redirect your attention at him. He either believes you’re an idiot or doesn’t trust you enough. Either way, it’s not a good sign.

“Good question, Lieutenant,” you reply. “What you’re holding in your hands is a knife. Knives were one of the earliest tools used by humanity to-”

“Cut it out.”

“That’s correct!” you exclaim. “You mainly use one of those to cut stuff.”

A long sigh escapes him, and he throws his head up. He lowers the knife and walks towards the table, scratching the back of his balaclava with the other hand. He takes a few breaths, turns around and lifts the knife again.

“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.” He growls. “What kind of knife is it?”

“A sharp one.”

“Stop it.”

“You mean stab it?” you ask and continue tying your laces. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely stab with it.”

He throws the knife onto the table and leans on a chair, holding it with both hands. His brows are tied together, and you can see his jaw tightening beneath the balaclava.

“I need you to focus.” He says firmly. “This is not the right time for jokes.”

You stand up and walk towards him, now standing by his side. You grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He doesn’t budge, yet he slowly shakes his head.

“You’re worried.” You state.

“I’m not worried.” He replies. “I don’t know what Price was thinking; the stakes are too high for this to be your first solo mission.”

“So you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.” He says and lets go of the chair. “It’s just too dangerous for you to go alone.”

“So you are worried.” You whisper with a smirk.

He looks at you with the side of his eye and picks up a map from the table. He spreads it out in front of him.

“Alright,” he says, “let’s go over the route again.”

“Got it,” you nod. “So, what’s the plan?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the plan?’” He shouts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “We’ve been through this-”

“-a hundred times now.” You interrupt. “Yet you still want to go over it again and again and again and again.”

“I just need you to be ready.”

“I am ready!”

“Then go on,” he says, pushing the map towards you, “what’s the plan?”

“Alright,” you begin, pointing to a door on the eastern side of the facility. “I’ll start here, at the service entrance. It’s not heavily guarded since they mainly use it for their occasional smoke breaks.”

“But you’ll still need to be cautious,” He adds.

You ignore his remark and continue to outline the route.

“From there,” you say, moving your finger along a series of corridors, “I’ll make my way through the maintenance tunnels. They’re narrow and dark but should provide good cover from security patrols.”

“And when you reach the central hub,” Ghost continues, pointing to a large room at the heart of the facility, “you’ll need to be especially careful since that’s where the security is the tightest. There’s only one entry point, so once you get to this door you should-”

“Knock.”

He slowly turns towards you and gives you a side-eye. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he whispers.

“On the contrary, Lieutenant,” you jest. “I’m deadly serious.”

“Deadly serious?” he scoffs and shakes his head. “You might end up seriously dead if you don’t pay attention.”

You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.

“When I get close to that door,” you say, pointing at the map, “I’ll wait for Soap and Gaz to manipulate the security systems and set off the alarms. Once the commotion is at its highest, I’ll infiltrate the hub, collect the intel, and escape through the ventilation shafts.”

“Right,” he says and folds the map. “Do you have everything you need?”

You turn your attention to yourself, checking your tactical vest, and he does the same. His eyes scan over every piece of equipment on you. He walks around you, tracing his fingers along the edges of your gear, checking for any signs of damage. He reaches out to adjust a loose strap on your vest, ensuring it’s securely fastened.

“You need to make sure everything is secure,” he says as he continues to search each pocket and pouch on you, ensuring that your supplies are well-stocked and easily accessible. “We can’t risk losing any essential gear during the mission.”

You follow him with your eyes and smirk as he inspects you. “Is that what worries you?” You ask. “Losing gear?”

He pauses for a second and meets your eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says as he tightens a buckle on your waist. He takes a few steps back and nods. “Everything looks good,” he concludes.

“Alright,” you nod back and walk towards the door. “Let’s do this.”

“Stay sharp out there!” he shouts.

“Yeah, yeah,” You shout back as you exit the briefing room, “sharp like a knife!”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #call of duty #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost call of duty #ghost modern warfare #cod mw ghost

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predestinatos · 10 months ago

Text

SENSITIVE — MV1 (18+)

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

summary: you wanted to see for yourself if the rumour was true. or i am obsessed with the idea of max having nipple piercings.

tags: smut, needy max, equally needy reader, they love teasing each other that's all i can say.

word count: 1.5k

minors dni!! warnings underneath ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, cumming inside, dirty talk, not public sex but definetly risky

“I can’t believe I’m doing this” Max’s voice sounded both worried and excited as he locked the restroom door. You leaned against the washstand, propping yourself in a way you were almost sitting, but not quite; a teasing smile spread across your lips upon seeing his hands reach for his white shirt and unbutton it.

Pulling it out the inside of his pants, he made sure to undo all of the buttons until he fully opened the shirt, exposing his bare skin and – what you were most excited to see – his nipple piercings. Eyebrows raised, you nodded, biting your lower lip in admiration of both the visuals he was providing and the daring attitude he possessed.

“Believe me now?” he asked, tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek tauntingly. You ran a hair through your hair while answering his question, watching him getting closer to you with a grin on his lips and a fervent look in his eyes. Reaching you, he placed his hands on either side of you, his frame caging you as he looked down into your eyes.

“Is it true they make you more sensitive?” you asked with a giggle, not moving the rest of your body now, aware of the intense atmosphere you were now sharing. He chuckled with you, looking to the side as if confirming the door was indeed locked and you were safe, at least for a few minutes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His face was so close to yours, literally hovering above you, and you could see his chest rising and falling with every breath, glistening with slight sweat. “Are you daring me?” you raised an eyebrow at him as you saw him licking his lips at the question and lowering his gaze to your body – your dress highlighted some of your best features and left the others bare for him to explore with his hungry eyes.

Max leaned back, exposing himself to you more, an open invitation to test your theory – and one he wasn’t fully sure you’d dare to. He knew you were both being careless, that people would definitely notice your absence or eventually want to come to the bathroom themselves. He knew this, and yet he decided to pretend not to know the risks, at least for a while, at least while he could look at you, be alone with his own desire.

You stared at his body before deciding to place your palm on his chest first, noticing how his heart pulsed rapidly with the strength he was using to control himself. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you leaned in, tongue out, before placing it on his right nipple. He shivered with the sudden touch, the warmth of your tongue exploring him, a groan escaping his lips shyly. You pulled away while giggling, the excitement of teasing him making your own body ache.

“Well, theory confirmed!” you said, patting his chest almost mockingly, watching him run a hand through his dirty blonde hair. “Don’t do this to me” he said, half serious, half smiling himself, pushing himself against you so you could feel his erection against your core. You brought your mouth close to his ear, “and why not, Max?”

Almost in defeat, he leaned his head on your shoulder. Part of you was sure he was going to beg for it, and you pulled his shirt as if in preparation for it, pulling him closer. Yet, that wasn’t what came out of his mouth. “Because you want it as much as I do” his head raising again and staring deep into your eyes.

One of his hands had now been placed on your thigh, thumb caressing it softly while the pressure he was applying on it was hard and needy. Your body vibrated with the sensations that spread across your skin, and Max crumbled completely.

Losing his control entirely, he brought his lips to yours, kissing you roughly and feverishly, as if he had been containing an urge for too long. Your body melted as you reciprocated his kiss, his tongue grazing your lips before biting you, a whimper escaping your lips as he did so.

“You like that?” he mumbled, his hips grinding against you already, anticipation travelling throughout his body. You could only murmur in affirmation as he stood back to look at you, still holding you in place by the thigh, using his other hand to lower his pants. He was aware of the fact that you both had to be quick, the shortness of your dress helping tremendously with it, his head moving to the side as if in preparation.

Working on himself, he let his hand explore your body upwards and upwards, reaching your underwear. Through it, he could already feel how wet you were, and he let his fingers softly caress your clit with a triumphant smile. “Theory confirmed” he used your previous words against you, and you threw your head back with pleasure. “Screw you” you managed to say between breaths, holding his arm in place as he sped his movements.

“If you build it, I’ll come” he replied, and the way he managed to be so cocky even in moments such as these, even though just minutes later he was groaning as you had his nipple in your mouth, just intensified your need for him. As if guessing this just from your blissed expression, Max teased your entrance with his cock, letting it rub against your clit, your underwear pushed to the side hurriedly.

“Fuck” you cursed, your body aching for him. He was feeling almost desperate himself, giving up on his attempts to steady his breath completely. However, he did not want to stop teasing you, looking at your flushed cheeks and open mouth being worth the self control he had to possess. He brough his tip to your wet pussy, sliding so well he almost crumbled completely. Your gasp of pleasure made it all worth it, and your cry of frustration as he pulled himself out drove him absolutely insane.

The way you craved him made him dizzy, intoxicated with your drunkenness of him, having you all for himself the way you were in that moment being almost a dream. You stared at his bare chest, at the metal on his nipples that made him look so sensual, made you hungry for him in all of the meanings the word could have. Max noticed you staring, and dared you to fulfill your desire once more. “You want it” he whispered, head cocked to the side in defiance.

You would do anything for him at this point, needing his body in such a carnal desire you couldn’t form a coherent though anymore. His throbbing erection was already coated in your wetness and his precum, yet he waited for your mouth before entering you.

You loved feeling the reaction his body had inside yours, how he began to completely lose himself as soon as your tongue teased his nipple, playing with it unconsciously. Your movements were frantic, yet his were rough and thrilling, having little to no rhythm in his thrusts. The unexpectedness of it had you both feverish, climax being so close.

Max’s previously closed eyes opened and were met with your reflection, his hands on your hair as he buried himself inside you, the sight driving him insane. “Fuck you feel so fucking amazing” he growled, his pace quicker. All you could do was moan his name as he now held your head against his chest, your cries filling his ears.

“You want to walk outside with my cum inside you?” he asked, the fear of the question being too much or too risky not in his head anymore, nothing else possessing him except for the pleasure of being inside you. You could only nod against his skin, but that seemed to not be enough. Pulling you by the hair with just enough strength, his thrusts not stopping despite his closeness to climax, he asked once again “you need to be clearer than that.”

“Yes, yes” you said, the words coming out beggingly and louder than you expected, his hand coming to cover your mouth in sudden consciousness of being heard. “Fuck, you want… want everyone to know… you’re mine?” Max asked, sure that your answer would drive him to his release.

Staring at your teary eyes that could barely remain open due to sheer fulfilment, he felt himself convulsing inside you. The feeling of his warm cum inside you was your tipping point, your own body shuddering against his, loud moans muffled by his hand which you kissed in gratification.

Both of you breathed heavily, him still inside you as he tried to gain the strength to pull himself out. You both knew how you looked: flushed cheeks, messy hair and swollen lips – none of it indicated anything other than We Just Had Sex. Somehow, maybe due to how lightheaded you both felt, you laughed together, but that happiness would soon disappear.

A knock sounded and both your heads shot to the door. “Hello? Is this taken?”

“Fuck” you said in unison.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #f1 #max verstappen x you #formula 1 #formula one #f1blr #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #max verstappen fanfic #f1 smut #formula one smut #formula 1 smut #max verstappen fic

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chrissvalentine · 2 months ago

Note

matt and singer reader. Where they are filming a car video with her where they asked fans to send in questions for her and someone puts “ give me a chance y/n ill treat you way better than matt😍” reader jokingly says “hit me up” matt gets mad and ignores her for the rest of the video. When they get home they make up and cuddle

:: singer!reader x jealous!matt jealously

after yours and matt’s soft launch, the triplets realized that they could finally include you in a car video.

it was a q&a, nick reading the questions as you, matt, and chris answered with some arguments here and there.

nick read a few questions off of his phone throughout the video.

the questions mostly consisted of things like ‘when are you releasing your album?’ and ‘what is being on tour like? and ‘what’s your favorite song of yours?’

but eventually, nick read out a question that shifted the cars atmosphere from laughing and cracking jokes to a quieter, more serious atmosphere

‘give me a chance y/n, i would treat you so much better than matt does.’ nick read with a goofy smile.

you responded jokingly before even thinking. “hit me up!”

matt’s smile faltered when nick read that question and hears your response. he doesn’t know why the question pisses him off so much. it’s just a fan. you were his girlfriend, but that didn’t stop the jealousy and annoyance from building in his chest.

matt is practically silent for the rest of the video unless he needs to answer a question. he doesn’t crack as many jokes like usual, and he doesn’t look over at you as much like he always does.

he didn’t want you to see that he was upset, but he was, and it was evident. he didn’t look at you once on the ride home.

matt had to admit, it took a surprising amount of willpower to not have his hand on yours as he usually does while driving.

when you all finally arrive at home, matt didn’t even wait for you to get out of the car. he just got out, shut the door, and made his way inside.

matt let out a hard huff of a sigh as he threw himself onto his bed, one arm across his eyes. he knew he was acting childish, he was fully aware of it. but right now he didn’t care. he was annoyed, jealous, and upset, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

it only took a few minutes for you to come into the house. he heard the door shut, and soft, almost quiet footsteps walking down the hallway.

as you approached his open bedroom door, he didn’t turn to look at you. he just stayed still, lying down on his bed.

“hi baby,” you spoke softly as you lowered yourself onto the bed with him. you ran your fingers through his hair while waiting for a response.

matt tried to not give in, but after just a few moments he couldn’t take it anymore. he moved his arm, dropping onto his chest before his eyes flickered open. he stared up at the ceiling for a moment before he glanced over at you.

he didn’t say anything at first, just letting out another sigh. he was still feeling jealous, but he couldn’t help the way his heart softened when he looked at you.

there was a slight frown on his face, and he kept his gaze on you. he stayed silent for another moment, just looking at you before he spoke, his voice quiet.

“why’d you..” he paused, the thought leaving his mind before he spoke again, “why’d you say that in the video?” he asked, trying not to sound too jealous.

you respond confused. you knew what he was referring to, but you really didn’t think it had affected him. “baby, is that what your upset about? you know i didn’t mean it like that, right?”

“don’t say anything like that again. you know how your fans can be.” he murmured.

matt knew you didn’t really mean it like that, but he needed to make sure you understood why you can’t say things like that on the internet.

“it — it doesn’t matter if you were joking or not, people are crazy and will take anything you say and use it against you.”

you had just realized he was trying to protect you.

“okay, i understand. i’m sorry, we can ask nick to cut it out of the video right?” you said with an apologetic look on your face.

“don’t apologize baby. you didn’t know. it’s okay, i promise. i’ll make sure nick takes it out.” he reassures.

the annoyance and jealously he was feeling was quickly being replaced by a sense of exhaustion and fatigue. he raised his hand off his chest, motioning for you come closer. he just wanted you close to him even if he was still a little upset with you.

“c’mere,” he spoke quietly, patting his chest.

matt shifted slightly, making more room for you on his chest. he glanced between your eyes before he pulled you onto his chest.

matt immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him. he pressed closer to you as he buried his head into your shoulder.

he wasn’t saying anything, just taking a few moments to breathe in your scent.

his arms were tight around you, he let out a deep breath against your neck, burying his head farther into your shoulder.

“mine,” he muttered quietly against your skin. “all mine.”

→ love, jess

notes: this was way longer than expected sorry!

🏷️: @submattenthusiast @dominicfikeenthusiast @pixxiies @breesturns

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #✸ singer!reader

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crushmeeren · 27 days ago

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ᝰ ILLUMI WHO FUCKS YOU BEHIND HIS PARENTS BACK .ᐟ

master list link

༝ ᭝ ༝ just a little blurb, maybe I could circle back and expand in the future? this is kind of all over the place, but i love illumi and this my first hxh work! ༝ ᭝ ༝

The rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall steals your attention, the murmuring chatter of the other three people in the room muffling as you zone out. It’s mindless, the way your fingers trace over the dark mark sticking out against the conference table like a neon sign. The rich mahogany is smooth, not a splinter in sight.

Your chair creaks when you shift your weight, eyes rolling in annoyance when your foot tingles with pins and needles, the appendage forcing itself awake.

For how rich they are, you’d think the Zoldycks could afford comfortable seats at the very least.

A much larger hand covers your own, halting your repetitive tracing, and you shift your head to the left to be met with your father’s firm gaze, his mouth set in a line. You glance across the table to Silva’s serious expression, then to Illumi’s blank one.

You lock eyes with the younger Zoldyck and something hot jolts in your belly, a deep ache settling between your legs. You linger a bit too long before returning your focus to your Father, who removes his hand from yours. You clear your throat, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room.

“Yes, father?”

He raises an eyebrow, somewhat amused but hiding it well. “Did you hear anything that was discussed?”

Heat crawls up the back of your neck and into your cheeks, but you manage to keep your features neutral. “No, I’m sorry Father.”

“Silva and I have agreed to allow you to work with Illumi on this mission. We feel it’s best to have you both there,” your Father explains, gesturing towards Illumi. You blink twice, spine straightening, and your pride refuses to let you peak at Illumi and gauge his reaction. You know it’s non existent.

You hesitate, then nod. “I understand Father,” you assure. You turn to Silva with your chin raised. “I’ll be an asset to this mission. I won’t hinder Illumi.”

The soft rustle of Illumi shifting, like he can’t sit still, does not go unnoticed by you.

Silva looks as pleased as he’s capable of and dips his head in acknowledgment. “See to it that you are. Illumi does not fail, and if this mission falls apart, you’ll be the one who is punished.”

“She will not fail,” your Father interrupts, tone sharp at the edges. “She is just as capable as Illumi.”

Your Father and Silva stare each other down for a few tense seconds before Silva concedes, nodding once.

“Very well.”

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

“Illumi, fuck,” you moan, tightening your fingers in his soft hair as your lids flutter. Your breath hitches when he sucks the sensitive skin of your inner knee between his lips, intent on leaving a dark hickey. “You know you’re gonna get in trouble if— oh god!” You squeak. Illumi’s teeth bite down harder in an effort to stop you from continuing your sentence. “If your Father finds out, Illumi.” You emphasize his name with a pointed yank to his hair.

Said man’s warm tongue suddenly sweeps up the crease between your pussy and thigh, causing your hips jerk in the direction of his mouth, eager for what comes next.

The dingy white walls and scratchy sheets of the motel bed do nothing to curb the warmth that’s running thick and honeyed in your veins.

Illumi settles fully on his belly, placing his thumbs on either side of your pussy and spreads you apart. He distracted for a split second by how slick he’s gotten you, running his thumb over your pussy before meeting your heavy lidded stare with a bored one. The only evidence of his arousal is the dark pink flush on his cheeks.

And his rock hard cock.

“Why are you concerned with that now?” He asks, tone somewhat annoyed. “You’re aware I’m not bothered by that.” Illumi’s tongue flicks your clit, determined to refocus on the drool worthy sight in front of him. “Don’t you want me to eat your pussy?”

You curse, drawing your knees up and let your thighs fall open as wide as they can. “You know that I do.”

“Then stop whining.”

Illumi’s skilled. He’s precise and to the point, especially when it involves getting you to cum on his tongue. Then he’s in your face, leaving a few inches to separate you as his hair surrounds you, shielding you both from the outside world. When it’s the two of you, the pressure to be perfect fades to background noise.

One hand plants itself by your head, the other gripping the base of his shaft to steady himself. The slick tip bumps your clit, a brief, bright pleasure sparking in your pelvis, and then he shifts down to press forward and slide home.

Your moan is simultaneous with Illumi’s. His jaw clenches tight, eyes pinching together before flashing back open.

“Move,” you command. The assassin, who’s never this compliant, drags his hips back halfway and pushes forward smoothly. The glide is so fucking slick, so fucking hot, and you loop your arms around his neck, tugging until his sweaty forehead lands on yours. The steady roll of his hips builds to a quick pace, the filthy smack of skin colliding filling the room.

Illumi won’t last long. Not after a mission like the one you’d had. It went well, but there was a tremendous amount of fighting, and the tense line of his shoulders shows how worked up he is. He starts to whine with every other breath, dark eyes intense and locked with yours.

Illumi grips one of your legs and shifts it until your knee hooks over his elbow, cock striking your g-spot with each pointed thrust. You cry out his name, pulling him as close as you can despite the awkward angle, and he starts to twitch inside you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers in a rush, breath hitching as he catches your lips in a kiss, all the emotion he struggles to voice shining through. He sucks on your lower lip and it’s over, pussy fluttering and squeezing Illumi until he makes a choked off sound, surging forward until his balls are snug to your ass. He cums with a broken moan, and you swallow the noise like you’re dying of thirst.

There’s little fanfare after, just a quiet moment where you hug him tight, prompting him to sneak his hands underneath your back to return the gesture. The embrace is sticky and sweaty, overheated.

Illumi places his forehead on your collarbone, brushes his lips over the swell of your breast and pants as he catches his breath. The knowledge that even someone as cool and collected as Illumi needs a moment to gather himself when he’s with you steadies your thundering heart.

“I couldn’t be bothered to care what my Father’s opinion is. At least, not when it comes to you.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Illumi’s quiet laugh is the best thing you’ve heard all night.

#illumi x reader #illumi smut #illumi zoldyck #hxh illumi #hxh zoldyck #hxh x reader #hxh smut #hxh headcanons #illumi headcanons #hxh #hunter x hunter

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solbaby7 · 11 months ago

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Killing Me Softly

pairing: cassian x reader

[ part 2 ]

warnings: swearing, violence, blood, jealous themes, angst

summary: [based off that episode in greys were Mer got beaten by that patient who didn’t remember anything when they woke up]

—

It had started out as a normal fight.

Something small and fixable.

But somewhere along the way, things had snowballed and the playful Cassian you’d always known had disappeared before your very eyes. “You have a responsibility,” His tone is firm; slightly condescending and you can feel the attitude beginning to form when his arms cross over his chest. Cassian shoulders squared out, spine straight and wings pulled taut as he stood his ground. “The answer is no.”

“Cass, you’re not even listening. I told you I had this planned a week ago,” It comes out rushed, brows furrowed as you tried to meet something else besides that hard wall behind hazel eyes. “Besides it’s the med wing, they always have volunteers coming in to help—it’s just one date.”

“This really isn’t up for discussion,” His steely exterior nearly crumbles to pieces when he sees the way you visibly deflate, fingers grazing over the pretty dress you’d spent three days searching for with Mor and Cass had to pretend to be thrilled when you came barreling through his bedroom door with it in hand. You were beaming, smile so wide he thought your cheeks would split in two. “Now, go get changed.”

Guilt bubbles in his belly at the sight of you, jaw clenched tight and eyes blinking furiously to push back the frustrated tears; you had been really excited. You say nothing when you breeze past him, making sure not to touch him or make eye contact when you disappear back where you came and Cass doesn’t even need to turn around to know the way Azriel is looking at him. “Thought you said the med-wing was fully staffed? Easy day, you said.”

“Don’t even start.”

“It was just one date, she bought a dress and everything.” Az doesn’t buckle at the remorse that begins to scrunch at hard features, hands that clench and unclench at his sides as Cass battled a war that didn’t take prisoners. “If you won’t act on your feelings for her then leave her be so she can be happy.”

“Seriously, mind your fucking business.” Cassian all but snarls, golden eyes like burning lava when regarding his brother; the words hitting much harder than and punch. “She had a job to do and she’ll be here doing it. We don’t have time for stupid dresses and dates when people are dying.”

You don’t speak when you re-emerge in something more sturdy, medical equipment neatly organized in a bag that you held loosely in one hand. A whole folder of papers had been shoved in your grasp from a brooding General, inky hair flying away from his face when the wind cut through on his speedy departure. Frustration builds but you don’t allow it to overcome you, ignoring Azriel’s inquisitive stare, arms crossed over his chest and thick leathers hugging muscular thighs. “You okay?”

You sigh, gesturing to the stack of papers while you begin down the hall. “I’m busy.”

Times flows significantly slower now that you’re aware you’re missing something of importance; you’d really been looking forward to dressing up. Taking special time on your hair and the dark kohl that Mor insisted would make your eyes pop. The bittersweet daydream of what could’ve been is interrupted by the ruffled patient, his body covered in a serious of wrappings and notes near his side table on the tonics he’d been given—heavy duty sedatives and even stronger pain alleviants. Dosages so high there was no was he should’ve been moving, eyes blinking into consciousness and slurred speech stumbling from his tongue. “Where am I?”

“Sir, it’s okay just relax. I’m only here to help.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Your hands are gentle when they reach out for him in attempts to soothe but it only makes him more agitated, arms whipping around wildly and his volume steadily increases. “Who are you? Why am I here?”

“Sir, please. If you just calm down I can explain—you were hurt, I’m only here to help.”

Rational thought and logic make no home in the frantic patients mind, his terrifyingly sturdy grip latches onto your shoulder. You’re jostled in close, bandages and antiseptic falling from your grasp and you only have time for one sharp yelp before his hands are wrapped around your neck. It takes alarmingly little effort for him to get to his feet, slamming your form down on the cot he’d been recovering in for days. Broken noises pull from your throat, nails scratching at his arms and face and whatever skin you can get your hands on, punching and kicking and reaching for anything to help and just as a black spots line your vision you finally get a good kick in, enough to push you from his hands and your body tumbles to the floor with a thud.

Deep heaving breaths pull from you, sucking in as much oxygen as your lungs will allow and tears you didn’t even realize you’d let out are streaming down the curve of your cheeks as you struggle to gain your footing, to get out of the room but hands are back around your arms. A broken cry fills the air when your face is shoved into the wall, heavy weight pushing you over and over until blood pooled from your temple and choked noises caught in your throat.

You can’t even remember when it stopped, a darkness overtaking you but even that’s abruptly ripped away from you for what feels like just seconds later. Someone screaming, strangled, pain filled shouts when you feel a set of hands on your body, lifting you from the floor and setting you on a cool table. “She’s awake,” You hear Madja firmly speak, hands quick yet sturdy when reaching into her bag to pull out medical grade scissors. “Anyone not necessary needs to leave.”

“She’s family, we aren’t leaving her.” Azriel retorts even stronger, leaving no room for discussion and you can feel the warmth of his hands on your own when he looks down at you. “You’re going to be okay, we’re here. We’re all here.”

You can’t even form words, eyes watery and panicked when darting between both of his own and the grip you have on his fingers when the healer pressed down on your abdomen is enough to have him barking at her for pain relief. “I can’t just give her things without a full assessment.”

“Assess faster—she’s in too much pain.”

Everything goes in one ear and out the other; you keep trying to speak, to beg them to please stop poking there and prodding at that bruise and asking if it hurt there, because it hurt everywhere. Broken whines pull from your throat, chest heaving and limbs trembling so hard the table shook. “I can feel three—no four broken ribs, collarbone fracture on the right side, shoulders dislocated on the right as well.” Madja begins, voice almost void of any emotion as she drifts from a person to a woman in charge. The High Lord in standing near your head, murmuring encouraging words while soaking in the information, a grim expression shared between him and the shadowsinger. “Damage to the brain is possible with such intense trauma to her head; two males had to physically pull the patient off of her.”

“Why would he even do this?” Rhys takes the warm cloth handed to him and gently begins to drag it over your forehead, trying his best to comfort you through the agony. “She’s harmless—she wouldn’t have hurt a fly.”

“It was the first time he’d been lucid since we’d found him; he doesn’t even remember what happened.”

Half a dozen more healers filter in the room with handfuls of equipment, eyes filled with worry when regarding one of their own but they quickly shake it off and step into line to assist. Azriel snarls at Madja’s words, stomach clenching in disdain at the helpless groans you let out, head lolling from side to side, tears treading trails into your hair as the pain overwhelms you.

Madja skims a knuckle over your jaw on accident when accessing the harsh bruising at your throat and the yelp that pulls is absolutely devastating. “Grab the restraints and hold her down,” The healer commands to the others, insisting they wrap them tighter while ignoring the deep shouts of the two males guarding you like their lives depended on it. “Her jaw is broken,” A heavy sigh pulls from Madja, dark hair tightly braided behind her shoulders. “—I have to set it and it won’t be fun so help me or get out of the room so we can do our jobs.”

Rhysand’s fingers are running through your hair, Azriel’s thumb rubbing soothing circles along the back of your hands and you feel the exact moment they both go stiff, heads turning to face the towering figure that stuttered to a stop in the doorway. “I’ll hold her arms,” The shadowsinger holds your arms with a firmness you hadn’t experienced from him before, soft apologies being whispered into your ears when your heart rate surges. “Cass, hold her legs. She needs to be still.”

The General doesn’t move, eyes wide and mouth hung open when he takes in your form. The clothes that were cut from your body, the countless amounts of thick gauze and medical towels soaked with your blood pooling in piles on the floor. Warbled streaks of crimson red is a stark contrast against the white floors; the smeared print of ten fingers and two palms drag along the wall, the small side table and the around door handle—you’d just nearly gotten away. “Cassian,” Azriel snaps, the rough tone ripping him from his trance. “Hold down her legs, now.”

The shock doesn’t wear off even if he does do as he’s told, golden eyes stuck on every bruise, ears painfully attuned to every whimper, every cry and gut-wrenching scream when your jaw was forced open, the bone shifting with a deafening crunch. “Please, please, please.” You barely get the words out; speech slurred, sweat lacing your forehead, body shaking so hard from the pain you couldn’t tell what was up from down. “Please, make it stop. Please, I’ll do anything—please stop.”

“Give her something!” Rhys snapped, wiping away tears and bracing you from moving around too much.

Madja scoffs, outnumbered and overwhelmed she calls for a tonic, allowing a higher dose than normal and your relief is instant. Deep cries fade to drawn out whimpers before your whole form goes eerily limp. “This will not be an easy recovery; if you think that was bad, just wait.” Quick hands make work of setting your shoulder with a sharp jolt and another healer is wrapping it in thick bandages to keep it in place. “Why was she even in here? The form specifically stated that supervision was required for this patient—she shouldn’t have been alone.”

“She shouldn’t have been here at all,” One of the healers muttered under her breath, hands quick and careful when tucking your hair behind your ear and dabbing your face clean of the blood that had started drying. “—she had a date today. I took this shift for her so she could go. She’s been talking about it all week.”

A silence fills the room and Rhys follows the sharp stare Azriel had trained on the General who’d been stuck in place at your feet. His hands shake where they rest near your calves, gaze seemly stuck on the socks you wore, fabric torn and stained in your own blood and he can just picture how hard you’d struggled trying to escape. Cassian says nothing, not when the others seem to catch on; putting together a piece of the puzzle in his silence—the shock that settles in every pore and the guilt that radiated from his burly form.

He only watches as they collect the soiled gauze off the floor, antiseptic filling the space when they begin to scrub your handprints off the wall, sweeping up the drywall that gave way from the pure strength put into smashing your body to pieces. “Four broken ribs,” Azriel’s voice is unnervingly calm when the last of the healers filter out, the door shutting behind with a soft click. “—a fractured collarbone; she was thrown into the wall so hard her shoulder popped out of socket.” Rhys takes a step forward, a hand raised to stop the shadowsinger but he’s sharply cut off, Az’s tone getting just a bit deeper when he stalks towards Cassian like predators did their prey. “He nearly shattered her skull—she’d be dead if it weren’t for one of the other patients. They heard her scream and found me.” Inky shadows slink around Azriel’s shoulders, but it’s the hand that pushes Cassian a step away from you that finally gains his attention.

“Azriel—“ Rhysand begins to intercept but abruptly pauses when the spymaster continues, fingers pointed at the leader of the Night Courts armies.

“You made her stay today because you were jealous.”

The High Lord goes still, violet eyes sliding from one friend to the other. “What?”

“She had a date and Cass was jealous because he has feelings for her and is too afraid to say anything.” Azriel can’t seem to stop once he’s started; such pure rage burning beneath his skin at the selfishness that resulted in such unimaginable pain.

“You think any of that matters right now?” Cassian doesn’t even sound like himself; no booming voice or need to make his point, no logical facts and carefully thought out points. He can’t even stop looking at you, eyes glassy and shoulders slumped when remembering what you’d looked like just two hours earlier. “I thought I didn’t deserve her before but now—after this? I know I don’t.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar #cassian #cassian acosf #cassian x you #cassian angst #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian fanfic #general of the night court

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