#LET HIM ATTEMPT TO SEDUCE YOU .
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puppetmaster13u · 8 months ago
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Prompt 264
Danny squints at his tiny hands, eyes narrowing as Clockwork hums in the kitchen. Which he wasn’t even aware of having been in LongNow. Maybe it wasn’t. He huffed, voice too squeaky for him to continue complaining. Stupid time accidents. 
Which wasn’t even starting on the other figure awkwardly sitting at the table. 
He glowered at the Ghost King, who kept glancing at him with an unreadable look in their eyes, then looked back towards where Clockwork was. His scowl deepened over his cup of tea- which wasn’t fair, he wanted coffee but nooo, that’s not healthy for ‘little ghostlings’. Ugh.
Sometimes he wished he was fully ghost so he didn’t have to apparently worry about his living body having to grow back up.
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queenofapeacefuldawn · 1 year ago
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Rudy: Your eyes are beautiful.
Mini, wearing her glasses: Thanks, they don't work.
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neraiutsuze · 10 months ago
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i would just like to say my bg3 run has put my little hopeless tiefling bard through the wildest few days
first she got unexpectedly and intensely hit on by lae'zel despite seemingly pissing her off at every point by being too nice
while reeling from that, that night a hot lady appeared to her in her dreams and told her how special she was
after spending a day clearing out an evil swamp karlach comes over and in no uncertain terms makes it clear she also would like to get it on if not for The Fires
reeling from that she and the others kill a hag and gale decides it's a great time to come clean about his shall we say ill-fated romantic escapades and his little orb problem
trying to sleep on that issue, karlach brings up cooling off and a very tired ryse, inspired by how we used water barrels to fight the fire in the rest house, attempts to just throw a water barrel at her. ...and is just about strong enough to pick it up and still walk but her little scrawny lute-playing arms are too weak to throw it, so ends up shamefacedly putting it at her feet and shooting it with an arrow instead. it still sort of works and she manages a kiss. and karlach specifically is like btw if you also want to get it on with the hot alien lady i am fine with that, have fun.
sure enough, later that same night, lae'zel absolutely wrecks shop on her
and in the morning astarion goes full gay best friend and demands to know all about it
this game
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unnerving-presence · 1 year ago
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Rant time but trying to farm BP with wesker is SO HARD. I suck at killer to begin with so I bring distressing and beast of prey to at try and max 20k but,,, I've actually been trying to hook and down people for points w the cakes but survivors are SUCH SHITS. I try to hook everyone twice and only down them after that since I usually only go friendly, but god forbid I hook someone!!!!
These fuckers kill themselves on hook then have the audacity to call me sweaty and a tryhard like??? You killed yourself????
I've had FOUR matches where 2 or 3 survivors dc on first hook or down then no one gets points at all.
I wouldn't care but the messages are so nasty?? Like bro I have social anxiety even on the Internet this is not enjoyable just be nice ffs
yeah this community is a bunch of shitheads honestly. even worse during the event.
“oh you didn’t bring a terrormisu? time to dc/tunnel you bc i’m a whiny ass bitch!!” like GOD SHUT UP GEGRGGRGRRGR
i feel like it’s way harder to farm now than ever. i haven’t played killer but the games where i befriend a wesker i always sacrifice myself for him not because it’s my code but also because i feel super bad since they usually don’t get more than a kill or a couple hooks 😭
doesn’t help that most people don’t even like going against wesker in the first place. it’s understandable but there’s really no reason to dc over it if you’re still getting points
sorry about the messages too :(( i’ve gotten the most negative messages from survivors so it does hurt receiving them. but survivors are also whiny bitches who sob when they don’t get a flawless escape.
killer is hard to play. not only because it can be hard if you don’t play it, but it can also be hard if you have that social anxiety. i still get anxiety to this day even thinking about playing killer. i understand it can be hard but i know it’ll get better :) people just fucking suck sometimes
if you are getting sick of killer or want to farm bps another way, don’t be afraid to ask to play with me. i’m actual shit but at least i’m using terrormisus now to level my feng and carlos :)
anyways i wish all non-bitch ass killer players have a wonderful day getting bps
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tweedfrog · 2 years ago
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Begging people to learn about power differentials other than age because how in the hell are you arguing that Alys Rivers, a bastard servant woman taken as a WAR PRIZE after her home was seized was actually the one in control and groomed the guy (a prince with a dragon) who "claimed her"
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mccromy · 2 months ago
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Thinking of Luo Bingge trying to seduce a nice Shizun for himself and failing miserably.
LBG, used to women throwing themselves at his feet just by being in their proximity, utterly confused as SY won't also fall to his knees and beg to be ravished. He doesn't even have a LBH of his own, LBG checked!!!
SY thinks he's handsome and charming and sooo cool, but also LBG will surely kill him if he steps out of line :) no thanks :). And as he finds himself being subjected to over the top courtship attempts, he thinks LBG must want something from him. info? Treasures? No need for this charade, Junshang, you just need to ask!
One time, they get sex pollened and LBG is like "finally! Now he'll beg me to help him with my magical Heavenly demon cum" and SY will just stab himself until the pain and adrenaline overwhelm the horniness and he bleeds out the poison because 1) he's straight! And more importantly "I would never put Luo Binghe in a situation in which he doesn't have the choice to say no!"
LBG is stumped, heals him quickly with his magical Heavenly demon blood, and remains in a state of shock for a week. Also, for some reason he can't stand the sight of Qin Wanyue anymore.
When he does finally pull that bad bitch, he doesn't get rid of his harem (love alone can't heal this man. He also craves the attention as he craves air) and SY understands it. He had his moment, now is time to vanish into the harem and stay the fuck away from Harem politics.
LBG goes to check his new husband, it's been a week since they had some time together, longer since their wedding night, and the sense of accomplishment remains. (Take that Inferior Luo Binghe! Superior Luo Binghe had bitches AND a nice Shizun!) And tries to seduce him into bed, but SY being SY needs to do a little song and dance before getting plowed and LBG has no clue what's going on.
Why won't he say yes immediately?? What do you mean with "aiyah... I'm a bit occupied"??? You're?? My husband??? Open your legs??? Oh! You need to be seduced more?? Alright, I'll do it.
And he tries to tempt him like he does all his wives, bedroom eyes and a deep voice and soft touches and. It. Won't. Fucking. work.
SY doesn't want coaxing! He doesn't know what he actually wants but for some reason this is not doing anything for him (he wants tears and pouts, something that LBG is too prideful to even think about trying).
After a few more attempts Shen Yuan feels his pussy dry out of frustration and goes:
"You know what, Binghe? Just go ask another wife, I'm not in the mood now." And LBG is like,
"Ah my dear husband is jealous, no need, you, exclusively, may have this lord for the night."
And SY is like, offended, because he is actually a bit jealous but how does LBG dare say that out loud?? How insensitive!! Spare this old man some face!! To be a man jealous of those flowers perfuming your garden is so humiliating!! And SY, petty bitch that he is, raises an eyebrow and says, "Perhaps my lord should visit lady (name of wife #78) she has been more neglected than this husband, so she needs our Lord more than I."
LBG gets forceful in his frustration because he wants DICK and HOLE, not HOLE and HOLE! and SY palm strikes him and sends LBG flying. LBG shakes off the dust and stomps fuming towards wife #78's room. Then, unsatisfied, goes to visit five more wives until the sun rises.
After that SY gets snappish and cold and poor LBG is SO triggered.
SY: *glares at him over his fan*
LBG: this reminds me of something that I do NOT want to think about. No, sir. Don't like how it feels.
What did he do?? Why do even the nice Shizuns reject him?? Is there actually something wrong with him??? No. No, it can be.
He'll show his husband! He's rejecting him, hm? LBG will reject him back!! He'll ignore him!!! See how he likes it! Hmph!! He'll come crawling back.
He doesn't. Shen Yuan takes this as a sign Luo Bingge can't be satisfied by a man and, hurt and angry, just lets him.
And Shen Yuan becomes quite the unfavored "wife" and thus a victim of Harem plotting, and he asks to be sent to another residence, much to Luo Bingge's ire. His request gets denied, and SY, feeling like an unwanted pet whose owner refuses to give away out of a sense of ownership, turns even colder towards Luo Bingge.
LBG is a fucking mess. He tries to make SY jealous, let's himself get caught balls deep in the wife of the week by SY. Flaunts his favoritism for others and makes SY watch. But SY doesn't show any reaction to any of it. And when he does, it's just disappointment.
But he's not disappointed that he isn't the one sitting on LBG's lap (something clear in some other wives faces, who stare at the chosen wife resentfully) he's disappointed in Luo Bingge.
And Luo Bingge can tell the difference.
(Sometimes, Shen Yuan thinks, what's cool in fiction is just... Sad and hurtful in real life.)
Luo Bingge does a 180 and now tries to seduce him by courting him like he did before getting married. But Shen Yuan, unlike the other wives, doesn't just forget and forgive the shit Luo Binghe pulled before. He's not snappish, but quiet, still disappointed, sad. He seems to have fallen out of love. And no matter what Luo Bingge does he can't make him fall in love again.
He's tried everything, no matter what he does he just can't close the breach between them.
Luo Bingge just can't win with this man.
And Shen Yuan has not fallen out of love, he's just realized how petty and sad his husband is. And he doesn't know how to reach him, how to help him. LBG thinks they're playing cat and mouse and doesn't realize he actually hurt SY. And when he finally apologizes, SY remarks that he's apologizing that SY was so hurt over LBG's treatment, and not for giving him said treatment. LBG can't understand the difference.
And SY knows him, knows him better than LBG will ever know. And he says he forgives him, but LBG can't tell if he means it or not.
SY does mean it. Because he understands why LBG did what he did, and although it was not right, LBG didn't know any better now, did he? SY won't take this peace of mind away from him just because LBG didn't meet his expectations.
He's not angry, he just feels pity.
Things become amicable once again, but LBG can tell things have not been swept under the rug. Yet SY is just as sweet as he used to be, but there's something different.
SY's touch is no longer reverent nor feverish, but careful. As if LBG is fragile, and LBG both hates and is addicted to it.
LBG can't read him, can't understand him. So he assumes that SY is planning to betray him and is feeling guilty. Ah, his husband allied himself with someone else while LBG and him were at odds? Perhaps? And now he regrets it? No matter, it has happened before with (name of wives #23, #190 and #304) he can take whatever comes.
Nothing happens.
It's driving LBG crazy.
So he tries to force SY to confess, he engineers a kidnapping or something to force him to sell LBG away to his enemies. To spill a secret, anything! In the end things get out of hand and whoever LBG hired turns against him.
SY realizes what's happening mid kidnap and groans. WHY. WHY DEAR HUSBAND? THIS IS SO TRITE?? He told him he wasn't mad!! Is he really trying to gotcha! Him?? Unbelievable.
Many things happen after that.
SY is forced to drink poison that makes his spiritual energy lethal to demons. And LBG'S human cultivation is sealed, so only his demon side is active. The thing is, the poison can eventually kill whoever drinks it if they don't pass it away, even if they're human, the corrosion turns on them. LBG tries to take the tainted spiritual energy for himself. But SY absorbs it, willing it to kill him quicker, not taking any chances. And calls LBG silly and rash, and LBG realizes SY knows they're in this situation because of him. And bursts out crying.
SY kisses him, tells him he forgives him, and he better believe him this time, huh?
SY dies.
LBG tries to revive him in the holy mausoleum but every time the soul enters SY's body the poison kills him again. The poison kills LBG'S blood mites, too. It has fused with Shen Yuan's cells, a product of him absorbing it, and now his body is unable to live longer than what it takes for Shen Yuan to take a first and last breath.
LBG traps SY's soul inside a locket and carries him everywhere. Touches it constantly to make sure it was there. The gesture both familiar and confusing until he remembers he once had a mother who'd gifted him a pendant that he lost many, many decades ago.
How could he have forgotten it?
After years of desperation, he reads about the sun-moon dew mushroom. And when he goes searching for it, he realizes the realm merger killed off all the sun-moon dew mushroom seeds.
He crumbles.
And only then he finally understands his husband and why their marriage never worked.
Because LBG didn't actually love SY. He was possessive of him, yes, attracted to him. But he did not love him, he just used him to prove that other Luo Binghe he could have it all, an empire, an harem, and a Shen Qingqiu. (Shen Yuan, his name was Shen Yuan. He hated it when Luo Binghe called him Shizun, why did he keep insisting?)
Luo Bingge never loved Shen Yuan.
But Shen Yuan did love him.
He saw him for the beast he was and took him into his arms. Luo Bingge never had to prove himself to Shen Yuan, and no matter how he tried to hide the most shameful parts of him, Shen Yuan could see them clear as day, and loved him all the same.
He held Luo Bingge's flaws like something fragile, he protected them.
He didn't hold them over his head, like Luo Bingge would've done.
He didn't love him in spite of them, like his wives did.
Shen Yuan looked at the cruelest man in the world and, even after being subjected to Luo Bingge's cruelty, kept him close to his heart so the world didn't have the opportunity to make him crueler.
And Luo Bingge killed him.
And in that moment, when he finally was able to under his husband, Luo Bingge falls in love with Shen Yuan.
He came back to his palace and locked himself in his late husband's rooms, became mournful, lost interest in sex and food and bloodshed. Held that precious locket in his hands and wept.
Until one day, he began hearing Shen Yuan's voice. Faintly, as if far away. And then just as clear as if his husband whispered in his ear.
The locket had become cursed by harbouring a human soul for so long. But Shen Yuan never asked anything impossible of him, never tried to hurt him as any other cursed artifact would do.
He'd ask him to sleep, to please eat. To cook, doesn't he love to cook? Why don't you try again? He'd say, "Ah, Binghe, look up! That's a Silver Blood Hummingbird ! Oh, I thought they were extinct, isn't it beautiful?"
And Luo Bingge with only a voice for company, the love of a man he could not touch, would finally find the peace that eluded him his entire life. He'd understand that other inferior Luo Binghe, and he'd abandon his palace, leave his empire in disarray no matter how much Shen Yuan nagged at him to "take responsibility!"
He'd search for creatures and plants that went extinct after he so thoughtlessly united the realms. He'd find some, hidden away in small pockets of space, untouched by his sword. Some still thriving in hidden realms. And he'd hear as his husband excitedly tells him all there's to know about them. He'd cook and set an extra plate, let Shen Yuan guide him until he finally learned to play the guqin, an opportunity he was robbed of many years ago.
And one day, hidden from the world and greedy hands, he'd find a grove filled with thriving sun-moon dew mushrooms.
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brunchable · 1 month ago
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Pregnancy Pillow vs Captain America
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Pairings: Dad-to-be Steve Rogers x Pregnant Reader. Themes/Summary:Light-hearted. Steve is feeling lonely on his side of the bed, and it's the pregnancy pillow's fault. A/N: I haven't been giving Steve some love lately. . . so here a cute little oneshot of how he will react when y/n brings out the pregnancy pillow. I don't own any of the images ya'll credits to their owners.
tags: @mrsevans90 @haruvalentine4321
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Steve comes out of the ensuite after his shower, his white t-shirt clinging to his body and hair damp. He throws you an easy smile, the kind that makes his blue eyes crinkle at the corners, as he heads towards the bedroom. But the moment he steps inside, he halts mid-stride, staring at the bed like it’s personally offended him.
There it is again: the pregnancy pillow. An immovable, unforgiving barricade that now divides your once-cozy bed like a dam, stretching from one end to the other. Steve tilts his head, squinting at it as if that might reduce its size.
He throws his hands on his hips and sighs dramatically. 
“You know, I fought Hydra,” he says, voice dripping with exasperation. “I’ve been through hell and back. But this—” he gestures to the pillow, “—is the one enemy I can’t seem to defeat.”
You burst into laughter from your side of the bed, propped up by a series of other pillows meant to cushion every conceivable ache or discomfort. “Steve, it’s a pillow.”
“It’s a monstrosity,” he argues. “It’s like the Great Wall of China, but made out of—” he pokes at it cautiously, like it might snap back at him, “—fluffy foam and
 whatever this is.” He groans, flopping down onto his side of the bed with a huff.
“Pregnancy pillows are supposed to be supportive,” you say in an exaggeratedly sweet tone, rolling your eyes.
“Supportive?” He scoffs, attempting to squeeze his hand through the tiny gap between the pillow and your hip. “It’s so supportive I need to make an appointment to get within three feet of my wife.”
You press your lips together, trying not to laugh as you watch him contort, his long arms flailing. “I know it’s not ideal, but I need it, Steve.”
“Why does it have to be so big?” He sounds like a sullen child, tugging at the end of the pillow like he’s considering wrestling it out of the bed entirely. “Can’t they make a smaller one? One that doesn’t make me feel like I’m living on the opposite side of the planet?”
You shake your head. “Trust me, if there were a way to make it smaller and still work, I’d be using it.”
Steve finally manages to get a bit of his arm over the pillow’s edge, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder. He lets out a soft noise of triumph, and then—he leans in close, his forehead almost bumping the pillow’s fabric. 
“Hey,” he murmurs, as if the pillow itself is an eavesdropper. “Wanna come over to my side?”
Your laugh breaks out fully then. “Are you trying to seduce me over a pillow, Rogers?”
“Absolutely,” he deadpans, his face all faux-seriousness. He wiggles his eyebrows and purses his lips. “I’ve got ‘plenty’ of space over here, you know. Might be a little lonely, though. Could use some company.”
You lean back into the pillow, giggling at the sight of this fully-grown super soldier pouting at a piece of fabric. “I’m not crawling over this thing. You’ll just have to wait until the baby’s born.”
Steve blinks, his face crumpling in over-the-top shock. “Wait. Until the baby is born? That’s months away!”
“Yup.” You nod solemnly, enjoying the way his mouth drops open.
“Months?” He repeats, shaking his head as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “I’m supposed to be a dad in a few months and I can’t even get a hug?”
You finally give in, shifting to face him. 
“C’mere, you big baby.” With some maneuvering, you manage to reach over the pillow, clasping his face between your hands. He grins triumphantly and leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as if it’s the greatest victory he’s ever won.
Steve kisses your palm, peeking an eye open at the pillow. “We’re not done yet, pillow,” he mutters dramatically, earning another peal of laughter from you.
He straightens and stares at the pillow again, rubbing his chin like he’s trying to come up with a strategy. “Maybe
 I can find a way to make this work.”
“Oh really?” you tease. “You’re gonna outsmart a pillow?”
“Absolutely.” He nods firmly. “If I can’t get past it, I’ll just have to—” With sudden determination, Steve heaves his leg over the top of the pillow, straddling it awkwardly like he’s mounting a wild horse. You raise an eyebrow, biting back a grin.
“Steve—”
He shushes you, waving a hand. “Shh. Let me have this.”
You watch, thoroughly amused, as he tries to maneuver his entire body over the pillow without crushing it—or falling off the bed. He flops, shifts, and mutters curses under his breath, but finally—finally—he makes it to your side, lying beside you with a triumphant smirk.
“See?” he pants, a little out of breath. “I did it.”
“Wow,” you say, clapping lightly. “Captain America, conqueror of pillows.”
“Damn right.” He beams at you, his face flushed from the exertion. “Now
” He reaches for you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, despite the awkward angle. His hand, large and warm, comes to rest gently on your rounded stomach. His thumb makes slow circles over the fabric of your nightshirt, brushing against the small rise. The smile that spreads across his face is soft, almost reverent. 
“Hey there, little one.”
The teasing, playful glint in his eyes fades to something softer, more intense as he gazes down at your belly. His palm splays wide, covering the bump entirely, and he rubs with a featherlight touch. You feel the familiar flutter of movement beneath his hand, and Steve’s entire face lights up.
“Did you feel that?” He whispers, eyes wide with wonder, his breath catching.
You nod, your hand covering his, sharing the moment with him. “That’s your baby, Steve.”
He swallows hard, blinking away the sudden moisture in his eyes as he continues to trace gentle patterns on your skin. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I can’t believe
 this is happening.”
Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion he’s never been able to hide from you. “You’re going to be a wonderful dad.”
He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Only because you’re going to be an amazing mom,” he murmurs against your skin. His hand lingers on your stomach, his fingers spreading as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of it.
The baby shifts again, and Steve lets out a soft laugh, a sound filled with awe. “I’m pretty sure this little one already loves you more than anyone else.”
“And what about you?” you tease, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
He shrugs, eyes still fixed on your stomach. “I’ll just have to win them over.” He glances up, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “Starting with getting rid of this pillow.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Nice try, Captain. It stays.”
He sighs dramatically but leans down to kiss your belly one more time. “Okay, okay, you win,” he mutters, though the smile on his face is nothing short of blissful. “For now.”
You lean back, resting your hand atop his, and the two of you stay like that for a while—Steve murmuring quiet promises to the baby, his fingers drawing lazy circles over your belly. Even with the pillow still stubbornly wedged between you, it’s one of the most intimate moments you’ve ever shared.
Steve might be fighting a losing battle against the Great Pillow, but right now, with his hand on your stomach and your laughter filling the room, he’s never felt closer to you.
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evilgwrl · 2 months ago
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DBF!John Price x Reader
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Daddy’s Girl
Summary: He’s supposed to be your dad’s best friend

CW: DADDY KINK, PIV unprotected sex (use contraception irl), breeding kink, age gap (u r legal.), size kink if u squint, degradation, praise, sub/dom undertones, public flashing of your coochie, fingering, breast play, abuse of power ?
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It was so wrong.
So, so wrong.
Maybe that’s why you did it, for the thrill, the burning satisfaction that reeks through you, curling under every vessel as you stare at him with those oh-so-innocent eyes. You watched him from across the backyard, broad muscles bulging out of his shirt, almost too tight as they squeezed against his biceps like a vice, snaking veins out of his battered and scarred skin.
John was a friend of your father’s, a good one at that, always being invited to the family barbeques and he’s canoodled amongst family members and close friends, working his way around the room with a cocky confidence that only spurred your thoughts on. There was a beer gripped in his right hand, a smug smile on his face as he cracked a joke with your dad, both blabbering on about God knows what.
He was attractive, his hair a mocha brown, slight strays of grey sneaking their way into an occasional strand. His moustache was thick, hair connecting across his face, complimented by a thick beard that merged into his sideburns. Cerulean eyes occasionally darted to you, observing you as you watched him with a sweet expression, twirling your hair as you blatantly checked him out.  
You were sat on a lawn chair that faced him, everyone else mingling amongst one another, leaving you alone. A sundress adorned your skin, hugging your features in a flattering way as the bright colours complimented you.  He turned away from the grill, standing in your direction as he nursed the beer to his thin lips, his stare penetrating through you. Your legs uncrossed, twitchy fingers pulling at the hem as it glided up your thighs, your game almost dangerous if anyone saw you.
You watched his chest rumble as he cleared his throat (which was an obvious decoy), eyes glancing away as you let out a shallow laugh, his reaction stirring something dark through you. Your dress rested at the very top of your thigh, legs clamped together as you waited for his steady eyes to fall back onto you.
Like clockwork, they did.
Your legs cocked up slightly, your dress slipping up more skin before you spread your legs, lack of panties evident as your folds glistened under a peak of sun. You watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped the glass bottle, eyes furrowing in both shock and another emotion you couldn’t quite place.
You adjusted your dress, standing up as you walked over to the man and your father, an innocent smile adorning your face as you shielded your eyes from the sun.
“Nearly ready, daddy?” You asked, talking to your father yet staring right at his friend.
“Nearly, sweetheart. Bout 10 minutes. You hungry?”
“Starving,” you said, licking your lips as you walked away, brushing past John as you headed inside, practically begging him internally to follow, your hips sashaying in a poor attempt to further seduce the older man.
Shaky hands poured the champagne into a flute, bubbles sizzling through the air as you raised the glass to your lips before a rough cough interrupted you, the liquid splashing down your chin as it dribbled onto your display of cleavage. You turned around, your eyes almost widening as you took in the sheer size of Price, thick arms crossed over his chest as he glared at you. You didn’t miss the way he glanced down at your wet chest before he looked back up at you.
“You playing a game with me, sweetheart?”
“No, sir. What makes you say that?” You ask, faux purity lacing your tone as you lean over the kitchen island, breasts pressed against the marble as you look at him.
John stepped close at an alarming rate, heavy footsteps pounding against the floor as he approached you, fist curling around your hair as he tilted your head up harshly.
“Playing a dangerous game, darling, something you’re not fit for.”
“Anything can fit with a little bit of effort,” you smiled, staring up at him.
His movements were rough as he lifted your dress, bare ass exposed as he cracked a hand down on it before groping it harshly, nails digging into the flesh as he growled against your neck, facial hair tickling you as you gasped at the sudden impact.
“John-“
Another slap.
“Not my fucking name, is it? What’s my fucking name?”
“S-Sir?”
Another slap.
“Too much of a whore to use your brain?”
“No daddy,” you whined before he smiled against your skin, teeth nibbling against your flesh as he fondled with your ass, admiring the red prints, the stain of his hand print.
“That’s it, maybe you’re smarter than I thought.”
“Not here,” you whined, pressing your ass closer to his hands as he ground his pants into the crevice, bulge pressing against you with a hard poke. He let out a huff before pulling your dress down, both of you eagerly descending up the stairs to your room.
John’s hands were all over you, pulling your dress down your chest as he wrapped a hand around your neck, holding you in place as he licked at your cleavage, cleaning up the sticky champagne that stuck to you.
Your nipples pebbled in the air as you whined, his spare hand tweaking one as you bucked your hips. “Need you to fuck me, daddy,” you mewled, a growl leaving his throat as he tugged you over with ease to your bed, sliding the rest of your dress off before it was discarded into a pile of clothes.
“Desperate whore, aren’t you? Showing me your pussy while I’m standing next to your father? How many of his other friends have you done that too?”
His tone was rough as his fingers found your pussy, smearing around your slick in a messy manner as he tightened the grip around your throat.
“None,” you hissed as he toyed with your clit before delivering a harsh slap to it, the pain jolting through your body as you jumped.
“None who?” He snarled as he dipped a finger into your heat, curling it around as he felt your gummy walls.
“None daddy, just you- fuck.”
Another finger worked their way through you as you moaned pornographically, eyes rolling back as he rubbed against your sweet spot, pleasure multiplying through you as you rolled your hips.
“You fuck up again and I’ll leave you here like this, understand me?”
“Yes daddy,” you cooed, staring up at him with fanned lashes.
He grumbled out a ‘good girl’ as he began to quicken his pace, fingers moulding inside you as you slurred out a mix of moans and whines, your lip tucked between your teeth as blue eyes watched you.
John’s mouth dived down to your chest as he held a hand at your throat still, his squeeze tight as he relentlessly fucked you with his fingers. A sensitive nipple was wet by the flat of his tongue before it was curled into his mouth, teeth grazing against it as you yelped, arousal leaking out of you like a faucet.
The coil in your stomach began to build, simmering inside you as your hips worked with his pace, eyes a bleak white as they rolled into your skull at the intensity of the feeling before it was gone, orgasm broiling away with a disappointing sensation as John slid his fingers out, slick coating them in an arrogant fashion as he pulled them apart, admiring the webs that weaved between his digits.
John was quick to rid his pants, letting them pool at his ankles as he glared at you, almost begging you with his eyes to complain so he could bend you over his knee and spank you raw.
You crawled up the bed, thighs twitching with eagerness before his hands were at your ankles, pulling you towards the edge in a dominant fashion as he took in the way your breasts jiggled at the movement.
“You gonna be good for me? Gonna let daddy split this pussy, hm?”
“Y-Yes daddy,” you stuttered out, asshole soaked in your own slick that pooled between your bruised cheeks.
“Good little slut,” he smirked before he was gripping his cock through his boxers, precum staining next to the mushroom head in a lewd manner before they were pulled down, heavy cock slapping against his t-shirt as you whined.
He was big, his girth almost scaring you as it flushed a deep red, multiple veins running across the shaft that connected with thick curls of dark pubes, his balls hanging as he leaked at the sight of you, so complacent underneath him.
Slowly, he lowered his cock, pressing it against your hole as you winced, gripping onto his large bicep as he towered over you, pulling away from your lips to look at you.
“You ready?”
“Yes daddy, please-“
His cock split through you inch by inch as he slid it into the tight crevice, walls expanding to his sheer size as you whined, a hand pushing against his chest as you gagged into the air at the burn.
“Move your hand,” John growled, nipping at your wrist as you complied, wrapping it around the back of his head as you gasped, the stretch searing through you.
“Too fucking big, daddy. I- can’t-“
“You can fucking take it.”
In a swift movement, he had bottomed out, a cry shedding from your lips as you shifted underneath his large frame, your legs still spread without your hands now as you clutched onto him.
His hips began to move, pulling out almost all the way before he rocked back into you, knocking the wind out of your lungs as you bit down on the air. He gradually fastened his pace, balls slapping against the back of your ass as crude slurps of your pussy squelched against the walls of the room, the sound bouncing from ear to ear as you moaned.
“F-Fuck daddy,” you slurred, your brows furrowed as you looked down, watching the way your pussy absorbed his cock, the length disappearing into you.
“Tight fucking pussy, all for me- all for fucking daddy.”
You nodded, the pleasure causing you to blabber as you whaled out noises, barely able to form a sentence. Your walls were gripping down on his cock as he worked into you, eager to coat your walls a pearly white, staining you with his seed.
“Oh my god,” you babbled as you lowered a hand to your clit, rubbing it with fervour as he pounded into you mercilessly, “don’t stop daddy, please.”
“You gonna let me cum in this pussy, sweetheart? Gonna make me an actual daddy?”
“Ye-yes daddy, please fill me up-“
He growled at your utter submission, hips bruising against yours as his pace fastened, the coil from before building again at a quickening rate as you cried out at the feeling, clit pulsing under your touch.
It wasn’t long before the build up snapped, clit throbbing with eagerness as your moan broke into the air, your head thrown back as you clawed at his back, orgasm ripping through you as your walls clenched around him deliciously, eager to milk his cock as he groaned.
“Good fucking girl, making such a mess on Daddy’s dick,” he spat, kissing you as he fucked you through your release, your body spasming as your thighs wrapped around him harder, locking him in place as his thrusts grew sloppy.
“Gonna ruin this pussy with my cum, plant a fucking baby in you- all fucking mine.”
“All yours daddy-“ you slurred, holding onto him before he stilled, a gush of cum pumping through your pussy as he painted your walls with thick coats of ivory, a whine leaving you as you clutched onto him harder.
John stayed inside you as you both panted, his arms resting against your face as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead in a comforting manner. You laughed, pecking his lips as he slowly pulled out, cum leaking from your abused cunt.
Your body ached as you winced at the empty feeling, almost desperate to have him back inside you.
“You got tissues, sweetheart?”
“Mhm, in my drawer-“
There was a light tap on the door before a familiar voice called out to you, “Honey, the foods gonna get cold, what’s holding you up in there?”
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giannaln4 · 26 days ago
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GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON
ㅀㅀㅀㅀㅀ⇹ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day five.
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Thigh riding (1k words)
summary: Lando is too busy to help you relieve what you are feeling, but he lets you take care of yourself on his thigh.
warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, needy!reader, bit of mean!lando
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It was a quiet day in your shared home, but not the type you enjoyed. You were both home, and today was supposed to be your designated lazy day, given that Lando didn’t have a race coming up this week and you were taking a few vacation days to be with him. 
However, something related to work always dragged Lando into his office; you were just hoping that wouldn’t happen this time. But it did. 
You were in your room, bored out of your mind, trying to find something to entertain yourself with — anything, but nothing would work quite as well as your boyfriend did. After realising you wouldn’t find something on your own, you decided to join him in his office.
When you opened the door and came in, you made sure to be as quiet as possible to not disturb whatever was so important it couldn't wait another day. He was supposedly going over some important emails regarding a new helmet design for one of the upcoming races.
He looks so good when he is focused, you thought, and the fact that he was only wearing a black tanktop and matching shorts didn’t help your growing needy state. 
You knew that what he was doing was important and that some of these things had to be done by midnight so the design could be approved by the sponsors in time, so there is no way he was stopping. You were very aware of that, but you also needed him. 
Lando started feeling a little too cocky as he realised how needy his girlfriend was feeling, so maybe there was something he could do. Maybe not helping you as you were hoping, but a little teasing could be fun. For him, at least.
“Are you okay in there?” He asked after you shuffled on the couch for the millionth time since you got there. 
“Are you almost done?”
“No, baby.”
“But I need you.” You blurted out, not caring how pathetic that sounded. 
“Not now, Y/N. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Please, I’ll be quick.” You begged. 
He didn’t even look at you, and he was trying hard to suppress that smirk that was threatening to appear on his face. Lando maintained his composure and acted like he was considering it, even though that was his plan all along.
“Fine, but you will take care of it.”
“What? I don’t wanna play with myself-”
"You can ride my thigh," he said, interrupting your failed attempt to seduce him. Your heart completely stopped when you heard those words come out of his mouth. 
“What?” You asked, and Lando simply repeated himself.
“I said you can ride my thigh. This is the best you will get, so make up your mind. And no touching, sweetheart.”
You made your way to where Lando was sitting, admiring the way his exposed thighs looked in those shorts. You would have said no and tried to beg for more, for him, but like Lando said, that was the best you were gonna get with how busy he apparently was, so you decided against it.
You slowly sat on his lap, placing your centre on his right thigh. Lando didn't even look at you; he just raised his eyes over your shoulder to keep working on his computer, making it clear to you that he meant it when he said you would take care of it.
Shyly, you started rolling your hips, eyes closed as your mouth let out soft moans every so often, but as the pleasure began increasing, so did your pace. 
Damn, he couldn’t deny how absolutely beautiful you looked riding his thigh, and as much as he tried to block out how needy he was starting to feel, he failed miserably. 
You hands gripped his shoulders for stability, but eventually they slowly travelled down his torso, finding the hem of his shorts. The plan was to slide one of them into his boxers and help him with his hardening cock, but he immediately stopped you, slapping your hands away and placing them back on his shoulders. 
“Stop. No touching, remember? Just take care of yourself.” You nodded and went back to work.
As you continued grinding him, he could feel his thigh covered in your arousal, filthy wet, and slick noises echoing through the small office. You left wet kisses on his neck and shoulders, your lips letting out more and more whimpers when he didn’t stop you as soon as you started devouring his thick neck, moaning even louder when you noticed him swallow hard. 
Lando tried his best to focus on the words in front of him, but having you being a complete mess literally on top of him made it hard, and it made him hard. It took his full strength and self-control to ignore his painful length and not ask you to take care of it like you tried a few minutes ago, but that somehow made it hotter for him.
You were getting close, and the sounds that left your mouth were making less sense, his name slipping out a few times, and just as he knew you were reaching your high, he couldn’t help it anymore, so he dropped everything and gripped your hips, guiding your movements.
“That’s it.” His forehead was damp with sweat, and there were a few strands of hair sticking to it, a single drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face. Lando’s touch made you feel more electric as he helped you quicken your pace, desperate for a release. “Come on, baby,” He whispered, making you give in.
Your entire body was shaking as your nails dug into the soft skin of his shoulders, gradually stopping as you tried to steady your breath.
“Good job. You can go now,” he said in a serious tone. You struggled to get back on your feet, but as soon as you did, your eyes went straight to Lando’s thigh, glistening in your arousal.
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â†ș back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist
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imsilay · 1 year ago
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MANIA
obsessive love; very possessive and often jealous.
mdni NSFW! +18 cw: possessiveness, size k!nk, fem!reader, obsessive König, dominant König.
summary: König doesn’t wants you to leave him, even for a second. he finds excuses and makes it your problem so he could fuck you until you’re too sore to leave again.
i will post part 2 <3 (english isn’t my first language sorry for the mistakes) edit: posted! here
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art cr: @kinky-thirsty-reader
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He doesn’t like when you try to leave him

After a long night, you were exhausted, your body sore from head to toe. You tried to sit up and leave the bed, but suddenly König's arm snaked around your waist and held you down. "Where do you think you're going, Prinzessin?" he whispered. "I need to shower." you mumbled as you put your hands on his forearms and tried to push him away, but it was a pathetic attempt. You were so powerless compared to him.
“So klein~” he cooed.
He chuckled at your struggles. "I don't think so, Schatz. You're staying here, in my bed, where you belong
" he purred, kissing the back of your neck and pulling you even closer, pressing your back against his chest. "König, stop the nonsense. Let go of me, i really need to shower." you protested— you wish you didn’t. His arms tightened around your midsection, reminding you that he could snap your spine effortlessly. "Are you talking back, Prinzessin? Did you forget you’re mine?" he whispered, his tone now edged with discontent. His grip was far from loving anymore. “Do i need to remind you?” he hissed, he would fuck you dumb until you understand that you’re his. His to use for his own satisfaction, his to kiss whenever he decided to do, his to touch wherever he wants. You were simply his.
When you realized you were in trouble, chills ran down your spine. You quickly apologized. "No, I was just... I don't like being sweaty. I'm sorry." Your apology made him loosen his grip a little. He placed a tender kiss on your neck. He turned you around as if you weighed nothing and pressed you against his chest.
“Hmm... let's see," his voice teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He sat up, leaning his back against the headboard and had you straddle him. He lowered his hands from your waist to your thighs and gently caressed them. You let out a groan of relief and wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the sensation of your lover's massage on your sore muscles. However, your relief was short-lived because he wasn't finished with you yet. "You tried to escape my bed. So you need to be punished, Hase." He squeezed your thighs until the pain in your sore muscles became almost unbearable.
You cried and whined but he shushed you softly, soothing you. “We’re not done, Liebling.” It was clear that his tone had changed again. The anger and firmness had given way to something more gentle, almost loving.
You slurred something for forgiveness and apologize nonstop. “Don't be sorry, Hase. I didn't like seeing you try to escape from me." he said with a hint of a pout. "But I think i can make a exception for you this time. What about you let me
" his rough hands slowly caressed your inner thighs making you shiver and gasp in anticipation. “use you as i please, then maybe i could let you rest.” he murmured as his hand found its way to your already wet panties. Your breath hitched and you squirmed on his lap as he teased your cunt through your panties until you’re soaked for him.
“You’re so easy to seduce, Schatz.” he chuckled lightly but his voice stained with pure lust. He lifted your chin up with his free hand to take a look at your lovely face. Your eyes red, your skin flush from all the crying and stimulation. It was all for him
 right?
“Immer so empfindlich, wenn ich so mit dir spiele.” (Always so sensitive when I play with you like this.) he mumbled in German like he always did. You never understand what he said -mind foggy with lust and too focused to chase that sweet release.
He grinned with a proud expression and mumbled to himself. “Braves MĂ€dchen.” he whispered before lifting his balaclava up just enough to capture your lips in a long passionate kiss.
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked it <3
a/n: also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)
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motorsportbarbie13 · 11 days ago
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Get Unready With Me - Drunk Edition
In which Lando takes care of you after a night out.
Pairing: Lando Norris x FeminineGirlfriend!Reader Warnings: Drunk reader. Tooth achingly sweet fluff tho. Word Count: 1.8k words
Master List
“Lando! I’ve lost my keys!” You cry, opening the flap on your vintage Chanel bag in an attempt to dump the contents out on the floor of your flat’s empty hallway. 
“No you haven’t, you muppet.” He scolds, tugging the purse out of your hands before anything beyond your Charlotte Tilbury lipstick can clatter to the floor. “You gave me your keys after your fifth vodka cran. ‘Lan baby, be my hero and hold my keys so I don’t lose them!’” He mocks, pulling out your keyring from his pocket. 
Your eyes light up, a drunken giggle slipping off your lips as you lean your whole weight onto your boyfriend as he attempts to open the apartment door for you. “My hero!” 
“Besides,” He tuts, slipping the key into the keyhole. “We live together, my keys are your keys.” 
Lando swings the door open, ushering you inside before closing the door behind him with a soft snick of the lock. You look back at him, a bit more unsteady on your feet than you’d like. The pair of you are just getting back from dinner and dancing with a few of the other drivers and their significant others to celebrate the end of the season and you may have gone a bit overboard with the drinks portion of the night.
Flinging your stilettos off your feet, you groan at the relief of feeling the cool tile on your toes, only stumbling a bit when you try to stand up straight. It’s quite the miracle you made it up from the garage to your tenth floor apartment in those heels under your own power really. “I think my feet might just fall off.” 
Lando follows behind you as you stumble towards the couch. “Baby, shouldn’t we just go to bed? It’s late.” 
“My feet don’t work anymore. Carry me?” You pout, reaching for him with grabby hands. You are quite needy when you get this drunk but honestly, Lando doesn’t mind one bit. You’re quite independent, refusing to allow him to pay for much despite his multi-million dollar contract and endorsement deals. In fact, for the first year of your relationship you had refused to move in with him because there had been no way you could afford to split the rent in his posh apartment in Monaco. So when you get needy like this, which isn’t as often as he’d like, Lando likes to take full advantage of it. He likes to feel needed, especially by the woman he is absolutely smitten with. 
“I think your feet work just fine, but I will carry you to bed anyway, pretty girl.” He coos, scooping you up in his arms. 
You wiggle a little against him, nestling your head in the crook of his neck before breathing in his scent deeply. “You smell so good.” 
“I smell like sweat.” He laughs, walking down the hall towards your shared bedroom. 
“It must be the pheromones then. You’re so sexy when you’re sweaty.” You giggle. 
Lando chuckles, knocking the light switch with his elbow as he enters your room. The yellow glow from the lights overhead illuminate your face as you look up at him. In the alcohol induced haze, the thought of how lucky you are to have him flickers through your mind. You two had met a few years ago when you had been attended the British Grand Prix with your uncle Jenson Button. He had literally swept you off your feet when Fernando Alonso had nearly taken you out in the paddock with his scooter. You liked to joke that Lando had literally been your knight in shining armor that day, so of course you fell for him quick and hard. 
“Here you go, love.” Lando gently sets you down on the bed, your eyes already droopy with exhaustion from the day. “Lets get you out of that dress and into something comfy.” 
“Are you trying to seduce me, Lando Norris?” You slur. 
“No, I’m trying to get you into bed because you’re about five seconds away from falling asleep and I don’t want to cuddle you all night with that scratchy dress on.” Lando rolls his eyes but can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. He helps you shimmy out of the tight dress, pulling it over your head so you were left in only the skimpy McLaren papaya colored lingerie set. 
“This is new.” He says, slipping a finger under the strap of the lacy bralette that has him biting his bottom lip. You looked so cute sitting there on the bed, dressed only in his team colors. 
“I wore it to surprise you but now I’m too drunk to fuck you.” 
Lando can’t help the laugh that tumbles out of him. Despite you being 3 sheets to the wind, you know his rules: No sex while one of you is drunk and the other is sober.  And Lando is very sober right now, wanting to maintain some control over you as you tend to get a little wild and adventurous (read: you like to wander off) when you’re partying. “We can have a rot in bed day tomorrow and you can wear it then, okay love?” 
Your bottom lip sticks out in a pout, “Fine.” 
“Now, lay down. I’ll go get you a t-shirt and we can go to sleep.” 
You follow his instructions and watch as Lando bustles around the room, first getting changed himself and then pulling a t-shirt out of his closet for you. 
A few moments later, Lando pulls his t-shirt onto your body and tucks you back into bed before going to get some aspirin and a glass of water for you, knowing you’re going to have a wicked hangover tomorrow. He hates to see you in pain, but a part of him is pleased that you’ll be unable to do much tomorrow so he’ll be able to wait on you hand and foot. Being needed is absolutely one of Lando’s love languages. 
As he goes to switch off the lights, finally ready to get into bed beside you, suddenly you sit up. “Lando!” You gasp, smacking him on the shoulder as he sits down on his side of the bed. 
“What is it, pretty girl?” 
“My makeup! If I don’t take it off and wash my face, I’m going to break out and I will not be your pretty girl anymore.” 
Lando rolls his eyes, “Seriously? Can’t you just skip it this one time? You will always be my pretty girl, breakout or not.” 
In addition to being extra needy when you’re drunk, you are also extra stubborn. “I need to do my skincare, Lando.” You whine. 
“Fine.” Lando is quite certain there is no way you’d be able to do it by yourself, judging by the state you’re in though. “Let’s go, I’ll help you.” 
You blink up at him as he rounds the bed to stand before you, offering you his hand. “Really?” 
He looks down at those big eyes and pouty lips of yours and really wants to break the whole ’no sex while only one of us is drunk’ rule. “Yes, really you muppet. Come on.” 
Despite the fact that just a few minutes before you had been insisting your feet were about to fall off, you suddenly find the ability to walk and pad behind him into the large en suite bathroom. It’s a luxurious place, with a large jetted tub and huge shower with two shower heads. You find yourself sharing a shower with Lando more often than not. On the other side of the white and black tiled bathroom are his and hers sinks, yours more cluttered than his with various skin and hair products. You may be independent when it comes to asking for help, but you are certainly not low maintenance when it comes to your hair or skin.  
Lando stands in front of your sink, eyeing the various jars and tubes with a bit of skepticism. “I hope you’re sober enough to tell me what goes first because there is no way I can do this on my own.” He mumbles.
“You watch me do this all the time, baby.” 
“Doesn’t mean I know what any of this is. Now, hop up on the counter and let me take care of you.” He says, kissing the tip of your nose. 
A fire burns in your belly at his order. Secretly, you do love when he takes care of you like this. You just hate to admit it. Being raised by a single mom who was never the biggest fan of the male species, you had always been wary of asking for help but being with Lando had healed some of that trauma and mistrust in you and the longer you were with him, the easier you found depending on him. 
“What’s first?” 
“The micellar water.” 
Panic flashes across Lando’s face. “The what?” 
Giggling, you kick your feet like a toddler and point to the large bottle with clear liquid in it. “That. Put some on a cotton ball and
” 
“Wipe off your makeup. I know, I’ve seen you do it, I just don’t know what goes when.”
Lando squirts some out on a cotton ball like he’s seen you do a thousand times and begins to wipe off the makeup in long, slow strokes. The alcohol makes your brain fuzzy but the way his face is so focused on his task, brows knit together in concentration, has you squeezing your legs together. He can’t quite believe how many cotton balls it takes to get everything off, but eventually most of your makeup is gone. 
“Now is when you use the soap, right?” 
He looks so eager to be right your heart squeezes a bit. “Yes, that bottle right there.” 
Lando continues on with your skincare routine, listening to your every step and following it exactly as described. It takes a little longer than usual, but neither of you mind. The way he so gently rinses the soap off your face and then applies your moisturizer is strangely one of the most romantic things you’ve ever done together. 
Finally, everything is done and you’re bare faced and freshly moisturized. Lando hands you your toothbrush, already prepped with your toothpaste, and the pair of you brush your teeth together. He gently helps you down off the counter and you follow him back into the bedroom, hand in hand. 
“Thank you, baby.” You coo as you slip under the covers, watching as Lando switches off the bedroom lights, plunging the bedroom into darkness. 
“I love taking care of you.” He murmurs when he joins you under the heavy duvet, your warmth radiating towards him in waves. 
“I love you, Lando Norris.” 
“I love you too, pretty girl.” 
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kamiversee · 7 months ago
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Fuck Me Through It êš„
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[ { Synopsis } ] ➀ You and Geto seemed to have craved each other’s bodies more than either of you initially let on— hence why a hot & heavy phone call with him wasn’t enough to satisfy him. (Part One)
[ { Need to know } ] ➀This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.
[ { Content & Warning } ] ➀ f!reader, dirty talk, language, manhandling, tw; spitting & slight mention to satosugu, Suguru's mouth is filthy as per usual... you get the rest.
[ { Paring } ] ➀ Geto Suguru x f!reader. Perv!Geto x f!reader.
[ { Word Count } ] ➀ 3.1k
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——TOO ADDICTING. YOUR CUNT WAS too damn addicting.
Geto not only realized that, but he accepted it. Yeah, watching your fingers disappear inside your dripping hole for a bit while he jerked off was stimulating but, how dare you only cum at the mention of his best friend?
Yeah, there weren’t any feelings involved between you and Geto but damn, he’s almost disrespected that only by mentioning Satoru did you manage to cum.
Which perfectly explains why he was at your doorstep within the next few minutes. He didn’t knock or anything, simply texted you since he knew Shoko was home and probably asleep.
It was one o’clock in the morning by this point and yet there he was, impatiently waiting for you to open the door for him.
And when you do, you don’t even get to say hi or anything as he’s stepping in, roughly grabbing ahold of your jaw, and tugging you close while crashing his lips into yours.
Your apartment door is messily closed and locked as Geto hungrily makes out with you. Once the door is taken care of, his free hand latches onto your waist and you’re simply melting in his touch.
Oh Geto Suguru was pissed by this point. He’s not a jealous man, nor does he hold any romantic feelings for you— he thinks. But, you got off because of Satoru and not him? Again, how dare you?
He was going to remind you why you’re friends with benefits. Yeah, you must’ve forgotten who the hell he is.
It’s okay though. Because now, here you were whining into his mouth as he walked you to your bedroom, messily causing your back to bump into a wall or two on the way.
Gasping, “S-Suguru-“
“Shut up,” He groans into your mouth before tugging your lower lip meanly. Both your eyes crack open and his are low and aggravated, “You pissed me off,” He speaks into your mouth.
His kisses are hot, angered with you as his hand drops from your jaw and to your neck, tightly gripping onto you and earning a moan from your wet lips.
Geto’s tongue is being shoved down your throat in an attempt to silence you but of course, your horny ass just whines and whimpers against him. You had some damn nerve. Now you wanna be loud?
A ticked-off smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he finally gets to your bedroom and shuts your door behind him, locking it as well.
“M-Mmh,” You hum, “M’Sorry-“
“Didn’t I say shut up?” He breathes into your mouth, pulling away only a little to speak, “Satoru turns you on more than me, hm?” he suddenly asks.
Your lips part to answer but then you just shake your head no.
“Uhuh, right, we’ll see about that,” He scoffs, his lips mashing back into yours.
His tongue is entering your mouth yet again, swirling and intertwining with yours as the two of you near your bed. The back of your legs soon makes contact with the bed and Geto shoves you down onto the mattress, hands going to your waist to do so and lips barely leaving yours.
He’s swallowing you up, consuming your mouth entirely as he makes out with you messily— going as far as pulling away and leaving your mouth wide open just for him to spit onto your tongue. Your eyes widen and cunt throbs before his tongue is searing over your own.
You think you liked jealous Suguruïżœïżœ He was kinda hot. Okay, kinda is an understatement because you were soaking in your panties all over again just because of him being so rough and passionate with you.
He’s got you laid out beneath him and you moan so helplessly as his hard cock grinds down into your clothed cunt. He was twitching, aching-, leaking at the thought of what he was about to do.
Get knows Shoko’s just down the hall in her bedroom but, that only adds to his excitement. Hence why he pries his lips from yours and shifts over to your ear, “You’re gonna keep quiet f’me while I fuck some sense into you, right?”
He does not miss the way your pussy twitches and clenches around nothing more than the mere bulge pressing against you. Nodding, you answer him quietly as his words drive you crazy.
Shit, your body was so hot, you could feel your arousal building back up all over again. His lips are pressing into the side of your neck for a moment before he’s leaning up and tugging his shirt up and over his head, flinging it elsewhere in a hurried manner.
You simply stare up at the man with wide, slightly glassed eyes, dazed by his haste movements and not truly processing the fact that you were going to have to be quiet while Suguru fucked you.
Shit, you’re just now realizing that. How can you keep quiet? His mouth is so naughty with you and if he’s upset then that means he’s about to-
His hands are slipping beneath your top before you can even finish your thoughts, roughly pulling the item up and over your head before tossing it just as he did his own shirt. Yeah, Geto wanted you creaming around his cock now— he needed to remind you what he does to your body.
He moves back and off the bed only for a moment to drop his sweats and his boxers, revealing that heavy unforgiving curved size of his. You could feel yourself dripping at the sight.
Geto gestures his hand hastily, “Everything off.”
“Sugu-“
“Now,” He demands, “Don’t even know why you put all that shit back on in the first place.”
You’re moving to take off the remainder of your clothes, looking up at his darkened eyes as you do so and then scoffing, “Well, I didn’t wanna sit here naked and waiting to get fucked like some slut-“
“But
” He watches as the rest of your clothes slip off and he smirks, “You were waiting to get fucked like some slut.” Geto teases.
It seemed like his mood had lightened up a bit, “Shut up,” You whisper playfully. Maybe he was about to go easy on you-
His body was looming over yours all over again as he quickly got back into the bed. Good lord-, seeing those broad shoulders of his hovering over you, messy black hair dangling down and framing both of your faces before he moves a hand to push some of it back— not that this action really helped.
Then, your legs part nice and wide for him, cunt a wet mess just how he likes. A whine leaves your lips as his eager tip suddenly grazes your cunt.
Geto leans down to you, nice and close as he rubs just the tip of his cock in between your folds, wetting himself up with your slick and teasing you like crazy before he speaks, “Hold your legs open f’me,” He directs.
Your arms move to hook under your knees, legs bending and spread perfectly for him— to which he smiles.
His lips press to your ear for only a moment as the head of his cock nudges inside your hole, “Good girl,” He purrs and fuck does it make your pussy attempt to suck him all the way in.
“Suguru,” You whisper out, “P-Please-“
“Oh? Look at that,” He coos, tilting his head as he merely rutted only his tip in and out of you, occasionally slipping it out and up to tease your clit a few times, “Here you are begging for my cock
 Again.”
You groan slightly, “J-Jus’ put it in, fuck
”
He snickers against your ear, continuing to make his shallow and teasingly soft thrusts, “No.”
A more frustrated groan leaves your throat, “Please Suguru, p-pleaseee
 Want you s’bad.”
“Yeah?” His cock twitches wildly and he resists the urge to sink every inch of himself into you, “What do you want me to do?”
“Want’ you to make me cum, please,” You beg, “Fuck me Sugu
”
Leaning away from your ear a bit, “Mmmmmh
 Nah, why don’t you get off on the thought of Satoru again?” He taunts, tipping his head to the side.
You frown, “I don’t want to, I want you.”
“I want you, I want this, I want that,” He mocks, inclining down to your face and staring you dead in the eyes, “Tell me what you need ‘nd stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat.”
Your head turns to the side to avoid his piercing lustful gaze, “M’not bein’ a brat, you’re jus’ bein’ mean.”
Oh that takes him by surprise, causing his head to cock back a bit, “Oh really? I’m bein’ mean? Y’know what, I can show you mean,” That last word of his leaves with a harsh and sudden push of his cock into you.
“Ohmy-,” You couldn’t even get it out before he slapped a hand over your lips causing the rest of your statement to go muffled.
In your ear again, his hips just pushing and pushing and pushing until his fat tip and resting right where you needed him, “Shut up,” Geto grunts into your ear, feeling the way your cunt just closes around his cock in response.
With not a moment's rest, because fuck that-, you had the nerve to call him mean? Yeah, fuck you, literally. Geto’s drawing his hips back in an instant and snapping them back down into yours with a heavy thrust, cock curved and knocking into that mind-blurring spot inside you.
He can feel you whimpering against his hand but, again, he doesn’t care. “Callin’ me fuckin’ mean.” He huffs out, working up a deep yet slow rhythm with you, “Since when am I mean to you? Hm?”
Your lips parted against his hand, wet and warm breaths felt hitting his palm.
Geto scoffs, “You couldn’t even answer me without bein’ loud, could you?” He teases, knowing that if he takes his hand away from your lips, those sweet yet filthily loud moans of yours will fill the air.
You nod a bit, trying to convince him that you could, to which he lifts his hand only a bit from your mouth, “I c-can-,” You tried to say, but of course, Geto just had to give one harsh thrust into your cunt to make it difficult for you.
Your eyes flicker and a moan escapes your throat, earning a laugh from him, “You were saying?”
“Mmgh, s’not fair,” You mumble out.
He frowns to mock you, “Ohh, now I’m unfair?”
“Ha-agh
 Suguru,” You whine, feeling his hand rest atop your lips once more as his pace picks up.
Shaking his head at you in disappointment, Geto pulls his hips all the way back before shoving every inch of his cock back in, leaving no corner of your cunt untouched and making you moan loudly against his hand.
And thank fuck for his palm being there because that sexy sound he’d usually love to hear would’ve echoed throughout your quiet room.
“You’re loud as fuck, y’know that right?” He grunts into your ear, voice husky, “Do you want Shoko to hear? Wanna’ wake her up to come see you gettin’ stuffed full of my cock?”
Your gummy walls clamp around his shaft and he lets out a guttural but low grunt right into your ear.
“Ohhh fuuuuck, you’re squeezin’ me like you want that,” He pants, “You want your roommate to catch you bein’ cockhungry f’me? Hm?”
“Sugu-,” You moan against his hand, feeling him press his palm down into your face a bit harder as you mumble a pleading, “Shut up
”
“Don’t tell me to fuckin’ shut up,” Geto’s talking right into your ear now, hips drilling down into your cunt at a mean pace, “Needy pussy’s down there milkin’ my fuckin’ cock just cause’ I implied Shoko may catch us.”
Another moan is felt against his hand and his thrusts grow faster. Your cunt was fluttering around him, sucking him in deep every time he pulls back, begging him to keep going-, to make you cum.
His sanity was waning for a moment. Shit, your pussy was so fucking addicting. God, he wanted to stay here all day-, all night. Aside from your muffled moans, the harsh thwack of his hips to yours picked up and the sloppy meet of his dick into your hole was getting louder.
His breath was hot and heavy against your earlobe as he started to just say whatever came to mind, “Bet you won’t cum at the thought of Satoru instead of me again,” He huffs out, “He wasn’t even the one on the phone with you. I was, pretty girl. I was the one talkin’ you through it-, helpin’ you out.”
You give him a weak nod as he shifts ever so slightly and knocks the already little air out of your lungs, “Mhmmm,” You hum desperately in agreement.
“Hahh
” He pants, and suddenly, something in his brain just snaps, “Hell, whose cock is inside you right now? Mine or his? Hm?” He questions rhetorically before his hand moves away from your mouth and down to grab a rough hold of your jaw again, “Who’s fucking you dumb, huh?”
Your jaw falls in his grasp and he forces your head to turn to his, your eyes meeting his carnal gaze, “H-Hhgnn
 Y-You, fuuck
 oh my-, fuck fuck-,”
“Say my fuckin’ name. Who’s fucking you dumb right now?” Geto questions again, voice making your back arch off the bed slightly as a knot builds up in your core
“Suguruu-, hahhh
 ngh-, i-it’s y-you Suguru,” You moan out, not knowing if you’re being loud or not.
He nods, watching the way pleasureful tears well up in your eyes, “Yeahhh, that’s right. It’s my cock makin’ you feel good right now. I’m the one deep inside you, sweets.”
A hitched gasp leaves your throat and Geto could tell you were about to let out the most sinful and loud whimper as he finally finds that mushy and tingly spot inside you. So, to prevent such a throaty noise, despite loving the sound, he quickly jerks his tongue past your parted lips.
The whimper is felt against his mouth as he kisses you passionately, swallowing up every bit of that beautiful sound you make every time you’re about to cum. Fuck, he was so addicted.
He’s pounding into you by this point, fucking you through the overwhelming orgasm you have. Your legs were shaking within your hold, you were choking slightly against his lips, and fat tears streaming down your cheeks.
When Geto does pull away from you, there’s a heavy wad of saliva hanging from his lips that connect to yours, the mess so very sexy to the man as his cock bullies your sweet spot.
He watches as your eyes roll back and your body jerks with his every thrust, hearing the quieter whines that leave your fucked out, kiss-swollen lips as he does so.
Geto’s brows push together and he groans out your name, “See? That’s how the fuck it’s supposed to be, you cum because I made you cum, not ‘cause I mentioned someone else,” He huffs, “Got it?”
You nod dumbly, “M-Mhmm.”
“Answer me with words, slut,” He spat out harshly.
“Y-Yes Sugu,” You whine softly.
A satisfied smile takes over his features and he plants one gentle kiss on your lips, his hips still thrusting into you at a slight angle, curved and weeping cock making your legs tremble, “Good girl. Such a good girl f’me,” He whispers to you.
You flash a fucked out little smile and that just about does it for him, his thrusts growing sloppy as he utters more into your mouth.
“When we’re together, you’re my good girl, alright?” He huffs, “Cause’ no one else is makin’ you cum other than me anyway, not even yourself.” Geto teases.
You pout at the man before letting out a moan all too loud. Reacting quickly, he just takes his hand and then shoves two fingers into your mouth, earning a groan from your throat.
“Shhhh, I don’t feel like explaining to Shoko that I needed to fuck some sense into you,” Geto sighs playfully, “I’m almost done though, don’t worry.”
You carefully suck on the digits in your mouth and his cock unintentionally bumps deeper into you at the sight.
“Damn, you’re so fuckin’ sexy,” He breathes, “Love’ when you do that.”
You smile again around his fingers and he leans up, pulling them out your mouth before bringing them to his own, sucking the taste of your tongue off his skin.
“Mmmh, shit. I jus’ can’t get enough of you, gorgeous,” He compliments, smiling down at you before his cock is pulled out of you quickly.
Your eyelashes flutter in careful blinks as you pant, feeling the way he decorates your torso in his messy ropes of cum.
He pants along with you before tossing his head back and letting out a long sigh. The two of you remain still and in silence for a bit, neither of you knowing that if anyone had even stood in the hallway of your apartment and outside your bedroom, they would’ve heard how loud your cunt was.
The harsh smacks that left the room due to the constant meeting of skin would’ve made it obvious to anyone who walked by.
Yet, luckily for you and Suguru, Shoko was dead to the world in her bedroom— deep in her slumber and not knowing anything that transpired just down the hall.
You suppose that’s a perk of being Geto’s fuck buddy— he helps you be quiet & keep secrets
 sometimes.
“Oh yeah,” Geto suddenly says, “I know about Satoru’s fingers because he touches me a lot. And no, not like that. He’s just a touchy fuck who doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. I’m sure you know that already though.”
“Riiight,” You murmur, giggling a bit, “You sure there’s never been a time Satoru has wrapped his hands around your c-“
“No.” He cuts off to answer, “I’ll fuck you again if you finish that sentence.”
“Cock,” You murmur purposefully.
With a sigh, Geto moves to lean over you again, “Fuckin’ brat,” He sighs, “All night it is then.”
“Okay, okay, wait I was jus’ joking!” You huff out, laughing a bit.
He tips his face down and kisses you softly, “Mhmm, you better have been.”
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tags;
@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
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yesimwriting · 3 months ago
Text
Normalcy
A/n deadpool and wolverine drabble bc the movie was a little too good
Summary: Still reeling from the loss of your powers, you struggle to hold it together inside the TVA's void. Thankfully, you find an uncharacteristically peaceful distraction in your old friend Deadpool and in the wolverine variant who wants nothing to do with you.
Warnings/info: reader is a (former) avenger (bc i love the avengers <3), reader is described as having similar powers to wanda and having trained with her (bc i love wanda), implied beginning of an accidental love triangle if you squint ig, maybe too much lore for a drabble (?), me writing for characters for the first time so be nice 😭
----
The lines etched into your palms do not bend and twist to spell out secrets, there are no messages worth decoding pressed into your skin. Knowing this is not enough to stop you from staring at your hands like if you could just think about it hard enough...
"There you are, Peanut." The words are so warm you're briefly pulled out of your internal angst. You straighten, head lifting slightly and arms crossing in front of your chest. "Thought I lost you."
Wade continues forward until he's directly in front of you. He pauses, watching you with an unabashed openness that you'd only ever allow him to get away with. "Kidding," he tries, "I'd never lose you."
The familiarity of the casual affection eases you further, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "I was like 15 feet away from you."
"Sorry for caring." It's his go to comeback when it comes to defending the displays of affection you have the audacity to find overdramatic.
You blink, lips parting despite your lack of response. The world has felt a little slower these last few days, moving at a pace that leaves you with no choice but to reflect. Maybe it's the void.
"Hey," his voice feels a little flatter without his usual humor, "Are you okay?"
You let out a breath, shocked by this new low. Sure, you've known Wade for awhile and you've both seen each other through plenty of stages, but he's never felt the need to attempt a genuine pep talk for you. He's never struck you as the pep talk sort...for anyone. Do you really seem that off?
It's bad enough that your identity crisis has stolen the abilities that would have helped your trio pop out of the void with no real fanfare, you can't also make your insecurities everyone else's problem. "Yeah." The response doesn't feel convincing, but with Wade wearing the Deadpool mask, it's hard to be sure. "Just y'know...we're in a void and our reality might be ripped apart, so I've been better."
He's still watching you with a level of focus that's unnerving. You've gotten used to his familiarity, his lack of care for personal space or the social rules around watching people. "You're doing it again."
"Seducing you with my ability to have a heart to heart while looking this good in my suit?"
You sigh in an attempt to dismiss your slight smile. Happy or sad, superhero that once fought Thanos or regular person that can't regulate their emotions, Wade always treats you the same. "The staring thing. You said you'd stop."
"No, you said I'd stop." The correction is a return to what you're used to. He takes a step towards you, his proximity now forcing you to tilt your chin up slightly to look him in the eye. "I'd never promise to look at you less."
"Comforting."
He angles his chin downwards, making the limited distance feel more significant. "I thought so." For a moment, he's quiet in a way that doesn't feel very him. "Are you sure you're...good?" His hesitance is another reminder that this is far out of his element. "I know this is your first..." Wade's rarely careful, only ever treading lightly on the one subject you never want to bring. "Outing, since..."
"I lost my powers."
Wade goes quiet again. If this conversation is as inevitable as it seems, a part of you wishes it could have come up elsewhere. Maybe in your shared apartment, definitely without the mask so you could better interpret his reactions. It's not often you keep secrets from him, but the hollowness you feel knowing the part of yourself you've lost isn't something you can just share.
It's more than just about missing your party tricks, it's about losing a part of yourself. They were all that was left of your time with the Avengers, of what Wanda taught you before Westview.
He lets out a breath. "They're not lost." You raise your eyebrows slightly, giving him a look meant to caution him against sympathetic optimism. "We don't know that."
He seems so happy to be able to tell you that there's no proof that any and all magical abilities have been flushed out of your system, you don't have it in you to remind him that that's mainly because you have no one to ask. What's left of the Avengers and your government connections either barely understand what you were or are untrustworthy.
"Educated wish?"
His mask muffles a slight gasp. You press your lips together in an attempt to resist smiling. "The last one worked out great."
Your eyebrows pull together skeptically, a reminder that the two of you are still technically in the middle of the last educated wish he attempted to speak into existence. "Didn't Wolverine stab you multiple times--"
He cuts you off with a heavy sigh. "If I took getting stabbed personally, do you know where we'd be?"
In a reality where Wade holds grudges over those kinds of things, you wouldn't be anything to each other, except maybe enemies. You've never pulled a knife or sword or anything sharp on him, but when you first met he did startle you before you had a total grip on your abilities, which resulted in him getting thrown through a wall.
"I never stabbed you."
His hand finds your shoulder. You let him drag his thumb against against the fabric of your suit. "And that's how I know you really love me, Peanut."
You roll your eyes in an attempt to dislodge the warmth that settles in the pit of your stomach. The last thing Wade needs is encouragement. "I mean, I do go around stabbing everyone I like less than you."
He lets out a sound that feels like a scoff attempting to mask itself as a dry laugh. "There's the sense of humor that'd hurt me if I knew you less."
"Well--"
He squeezes your shoulder, "I know you." Okay. You'll let him have this one because maybe there's some truth to what he's saying. "I'm going to go check on the car, because a fucking Honda Odyssey would break down on us for no reason before we got to the fight."
"For no reason or because of the bitch fight you and Wolverine had in it?"
There's a beat of silence in which all you can do is try to imagine Wade's expression behind the mask. You'd like to think that he's smiling. "Oh, Pumpkin." He sighs as if you've stumbled onto saying something terribly naive. "It wasn't a bitch fight, it was awesome, and probably turned you on."
You deadpan a flat, "You caught me." He hasn't let go of your shoulder, and a part of you is oddly glad for it. "I'd offer you help with the car, but..."
You're self aware enough to acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses, car maintenance being the latter. Wade doesn't even let you get your oil changed by yourself anymore.
"I've met you." He squeezes your shoulder again, the gesture weirdly stabilizing. "Give me 15 minutes to actually look at the car and then I'm all yours."
Wade lets go of you, his arm falling to his side. "Aren't you always?"
He lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're making me feel cheaper than my usual rate, Peanut."
You smile as he turns away. Things are always a little easier with Wade. It's more than just distraction, it's his way of making things feel a little lighter. You're not sure what to do with your 15 minutes of solitude to avoid falling back into self pity.
You originally broke away from the group of void trapped heroes under the premise of needing fresh air, but even here, with the expansive, sparsely wooded area at your disposal, the oxygen in your lungs still feels flat. If Wanda were around, you'd be able to ask if she felt the strangeness of this other plane of existence as well. At least then you'd know if your dislike of the void is only mental or an actual sign of life from your abilities.
You begin to walk forward, hoping to shed all thoughts of both your former self and the eeriness of this other world. There are other people you could talk to you. The others have been polite enough, or at the very least, passionate enough to be talked into facing Cassandra.
The trees you've been wandering through grow in their sparsity, the edge of the woods revealing a patch of grassland highlighted by a fire's warm glow. You squint past the tree line, attempting to make out the figure sitting in front of the flames. Wolverine.
Secluded from the group and staring at a campfire. Surprising. Though, you guess it's not fair to judge him too harshly, you left the group to brood as well.
He doesn't like you, doesn't know you well enough to dislike you, but it took him no time to find a way to get around that. Maybe it's your proximity to Wade. You've done your best to take his hostility as un-personally as possible. You've seen enough people you really care about go through the guilt ridden, fallen hero thing to know how deep that kind of hurt runs.
You've never known a Wolverine or Logan Howlett variant, so you have no way of knowing what he was like before. Sure, you've heard stories, but you're also overly aware of how the media can twist and turn those stories to fit their narrative. One day, a superhero is the world's greatest protector, and the next their the greatest menace. Maybe he was always a little dark, or maybe he wasn't.
"Don't just stand there." The gruffness of his voice startles you more than it should.
Heat crawls up your neck, a part of you more embarrassed than you should be. You weren't lurking, or at the very least, you weren't trying to.
You sigh as you abandon the safety of the tree line. "Sorry." He turns his head away from the fire. "I wasn't--I was just walking."
He's quiet for such a long moment you almost expect him to not respond at all. "Without your shadow?"
Wow, only a halfhearted dig at Wade. You must have caught him in a good mood. "Friend, and he's looking at the car. I'd be looking at the car with him, but I figured the odds for tomorrow are bad enough as is."
Another uneasy stretch of silence. "Yeah." There's not much, if anything, to take from the comment. "If you're here to convince me to go with you guys tomorrow--"
"I'm not." It's an honest answer. You had been walking around aimlessly and happened to stumble onto him. "I'm not into the pep talk thing." He scoffs, the sound lacking in genuine aggression. "What?"
He lifts his gaze from the fire, his eyes settling on some point past the horizon. "I thought you were an Avenger."
You're not sure what bugs you more, the fact that he's so sure he has you all figured out or the implication that the Avengers spend their days encouraging each other instead of actually doing things. What the Avengers are--or maybe were--is so much more than that.
You step forward, further separating you from the cluster of trees. "The Avengers are about a lot more than that."
His attention briefly shifts onto you before returning to the flames. If the silence is meant to be dismissive, it doesn't feel that way. There's a patience there that doesn't suit his usual brooding.
"Do you care if I sit?" The question is forced out before you can overthink it. "I promise no inspirational speeches or small talk."
After a beat, he dips his chin downwards in a nod so subtle you would have missed it if you had been watching him any less carefully. You're more relieved by his acceptance than you should be, your feet carrying you towards the campfire.
You sit at a polite distance, knees bent in front of you. His silence seems to push against the void's sluggishness. Maybe the issue has been you fighting this world's momentum.
"Why are you with him?" You're not sure if you're more shocked by the question or the break in silence. When all you can do is blink, he continues, "You seem--" He subtly clears his throat, as if struggling to admit this next part, "Nice, normal."
Oh. If you had been focused, you likely would have got what he meant without the clarification. "I know Wade's a lot--especially to you." You place a hand against your knee, thinking about that very specific safety you only feel with Wade. You don't have to try at being anything, or worry about earning your keep in any capacity. "But once you get to know him, he's a good friend."
You look away from the fire pit in time to see the skeptical look Logan throws in your direction. "I'm serious." His expression doesn't change. "He um--after I stopped being important to everyone else, he still liked me ." This isn't the conversation you wanted to stumble onto, especially not with someone who you barely know and actively dislikes you. "That sounds kind of dumb, but the point is, he's loyal."
He turns his head back towards the fire. "You always call him by his name." The observation is so stiff you'd consider it hesitant if it came from anyone else.
You've never thought much about Wade's name. Part of it is familiarity, and the rest of it is a force of habit. Even when you were with the Avengers, you preferred using actual names when off duty. It's easier to separate the mask from the person beneath it when you make an active effort to.
You shrug. "I'm not into off duty superhero names, Wolverine."
He falls silent again. You concentrate on the flames, the way they illuminate the world around you. "You can--" He cuts himself off, attention never wavering from the fire. "You can call me Logan, if you want."
An unsteady warmth roots itself in your chest. You didn't expect any sort of kinship between you and the wolverine Wade stole from some other timeline beyond him occasionally accepting your attempts at creating peace between him and Wade.
"Okay," you focus on keeping your tone measured, avoiding any emotions that might startle him, "Logan."
There's no tension in the quiet that follows. You let the minutes pass until you're certain that Wade's waiting for an interruption disguised as an attempt to help. "I should go, Wade's probably waiting for me."
You push yourself to stand. You let yourself glance at him one last time before turning towards the trees you emerged from.
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tacticalprincess · 8 months ago
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a/n i need him in ways that wouldve gotten me lobotomized in the 50s

himbo!könig wanted your first time together to be special. after all the months of work he put in getting you to take him seriously, all of his dumb attempts at courting you, he wasn’t going to fumble his chances with you now.
he’s usually pretty confident in himself, almost to the point of delusion, but something about you makes him so nervous, and he can’t wrap his head around someone like you genuinely being interested in a goofy guy like him :( that’s why he misses all of the opportunities you give him to fuck you, always taking your hints and attempts at seducing him the wrong way

“it’s so hot in here, köni.” “are you getting sick, liebchen? should i turn the air on?” “no, i think i’m wearing too many clothes
” “
you don’t look overdressed to me.”
at some point you start to question if he actually does want you in that way. but the way even the slightest touch from you has him popping boners is enough to shake you out of those doubts. everything about you seems to turn him on. he’s convinced you were plucked straight from his wettest dreams, and he can’t stand to be in close proximity to you for too long without being affected. but he thinks he hides it well enough— always covering the proof of his arousal with a subtle pillow over his lap whenever you’re around.
of course he wants to make the move, but he wants to do it properly. it happens the night he takes you to a small town carnival. he planned on kissing you on top of the ferris wheel, but he unfortunately surpassed the weight limit. instead he holds your hand on the rollercoasters and you feed each other fair food. he insists on stopping at every game until he’s won you too many stuffed animals for you to carry and eventually you’re forced to leave.
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he’s shaking in his boots by the time you get back to his place, tripping over the mess on his floor and stumbling over his words. sensing his hesitancy, you’re the one to lead him to his room, your hand wrapped around his large finger.
“are you sure, maus? we don’t have to, i have DVDs–”
“shut up and fuck me, köni.” you huff, already fully naked and exposed on his bed. “please.”
he plans to take it slow, he really does. getting the chance to please you, to be let inside your hot body for the first time, is a privilege he doesn’t take lightly. he wants you both to savor it, he has to make it good for you :(
instead, he absolutely loses himself the moment his fat, pulsing cock sinks into your gummy cunt. he goes full caveman, your headboard slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts for all your poor neighbors to hear :( all thoughts leave him when he’s sheathed inside of you except for how perfect your sopping pussy feels around him, borderline animalistic as he uses your smaller body as a fleshlight. the sounds of his heavy balls smacking against your ass accompanied by your pretty whines and moans only spur him on.
he fucks you in missionary so it’s more intimate, but there’s nothing romantic about the way he’s mounting you. you thank god for making you flexible as he’s pushing your knees up to your ears, seemingly trying to push his cock deeper than your small cunny has room for, stretching your poor cunt past its limit. you swear you can feel him all the way in your stomach, mushroom tip bruising your cervix with each thrust.
you don’t even notice you’re sobbing until he does. “are you okay, liebe? does it hurt?” he asks through heavy pants. “fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t think i can stop myself, you just— you feel so fucking good. you’re so
 warm
 squeezing me so tight. just- just hang in there for me, ja?”
your brain can’t work for long enough to form words, rough thrusts drawing nothing but high pitched staccato “uh-uh-uh”’s from your throat. you’re drunk on the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, the way his heavy body squishes yours, barricading you in so you’re completely engulfed by him. his hairy stomach ruts against your sensitive, puffy clitty until you’re clenching around him, your sudden orgasm draining the cum out of his tight balls. “so good. fuck, you’re so perfect. best pussy i’ve ever felt.” he fucks you through the high, mindlessly overstimulating you both until you have to physically push him off of you.
you might’ve created a monster

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faith-forgxtten-land · 7 months ago
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Come to Bed | Donatello
this started with the idea of seducing donnie into healthy sleeping patterns and then just. spiralled from there. i didn't really have a specific iteration in mind but reading it back, it definitely fits bayverse most, i think, so that's what i'll categorise it under!
warnings: NSFW, swearing, general filthiness? gender neutral reader, everyone is 18+!!
summary: there is only one way to get donnie to come to bed (two if you count blackmail)
word count: 2411
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It’s nearly 3am and your eyelids feel heavy, eyes glassy and beginning to ache just a little, and Donnie is still not in bed. You look at the empty space beside you, cold and untouched, and kick the covers off your bare legs. The air is cool, goosebumps raising the moment you abandon the comfort of bed, and you almost regret getting up as your feet hit the freezing floor.
Donnie is so lucky you love him and care for his health.
He's exactly where you'd left him hours before, sitting hunched over a desk in his lab, and you wonder briefly if turtles with their shells can suffer the same complications as humans with poor posture. Perhaps you'll force him to join you and Mikey for your bi-weekly yoga sessions. “Donnie?”
The terrapin doesn't so much as flinch, instead burying his face further into a screen that is already way too close to his face. Oh, his prescription is definitely going to need updating soon, you think amusedly. You clear your throat, attempting your best grumpy Raph impersonation. “Oi, four-eyes.”
Now Donnie does flinch, beak nearly crashing into his monitor, glasses slipping as he salvages his precious technology from being assaulted by his face and spinning in his seat to glower at whoever dared disturb him. He relaxes when he realises it's just you, shooting you a scowl that's devoid of any real heat. “You need to stop doing that voice, it's creepy.”
You grin at him, noting the exact moment he registers what you're wearing – or, rather, what you're not wearing. His eyes go wide and his lips part, scowl melting like ice doused in salt. He swallows thickly. “You're meant to be a ninja,” you tease, stepping slowly into his space and letting his hands fall to your waist before they curl around your back as he pulls you close, palms flattening against your spine. “You can't hear when one measly human is behind you?”
“You are so mean to me,” Donnie says instead of answering.
“We both know you like it. Besides,” you look down at your naked skin, his own eyes following your pointed gaze eagerly. “I think I'm being pretty kind, actually. Someone was meant to come to bed three hours ago and ravish me, but apparently, I'm not more interesting than,” you peer over his shoulder as best you can, squinting at the tiny squiggles. Lips pursed, you look at your boyfriend flatly, not bothering to finish your sentence.
“I can explain.”
“World of Warcraft? Really, Donatello?”
He winces at the full name. “I wasn’t playing for long,” he defends himself. “I’ve been looking over some things Leo asked for since this morning, I was just taking a break.”
“Taking a break means coming to bed and not staring at a screen for even longer.” Softer, you add, “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”
You run your hands up the bumpy skin of his muscled arms, over scars and rough tissue that you’ve pressed kisses to countless times, to rest upon his shoulders. A small part of you is resentful, but the larger, kinder part of you is concerned; his eyes are bloodshot to the extreme, and exhaustion is etched deep into the lines of his face. You dig your nails in and massage a little roughly, feeling those worried knots and doing your best to soothe them with gentle palms.
It hits him then, just exactly what he’d missed out on by getting caught up, and his shoulders sag under the tender weight of your caress, twitchy energy that can keep him up for days deserting him instantly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly.
You smile at him, fond and warm, one hand trailing upwards to cup his jaw. “It’s okay.” His skin is something you’ll never get tired of touching, you think, as you rub your thumb over the swell of his cheek. You pinch him a little, coy and mean the way you know he loves, before soothing it with a whisper of a kiss when he hisses playfully. “Although, you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“And what is my punishment?” he asks dryly, guilt pushed aside to indulge in your teasing as you lean closer to hide your smirk in the crook of his neck.
“You’ll be in bed by 11 p.m. sharp every night for the next week.” You can tell an objection is on the tip of his tongue, and you fix your teeth along his throat in warning. “I’ve already cleared everything with Splinter and Leo.” 
Donnie sighs both in pleasure and in resignation. “Are you trying to seduce me into having healthy sleeping patterns?”
You start to kiss his neck, soft grazes of your lips against his scaled skin. “Maybe. Is it working?”
“Well—”
“If the answer isn’t yes, I’ll be very offended and I’ll be forced to dump you,” you add airily, tongue flicking leisurely over his rapid pulse. “You're incredibly lucky I haven't already for ditching me for World of fucking Warcraft.”
“Oh, blackmail too. Lucky me,” Donnie mutters, but it’s full of mirth and he doesn't push his luck any further.
You grin against his skin, and you grin even wider when he starts as your teeth scrape along the column of his throat. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips, and you bite down harder just to feel his grip tighten.
“You’re such a tease,” he whines, unable to stop himself bucking up into you. His breathing has turned to panting, short and desperate gasps that make heat curl in your stomach, and you trail your nails down the keratin of his plastron slowly.
“You love it,” you murmur coyly, fingers brushing against the elastic of his waistband mischievously. “And you deserve it.”
Donnie curses loudly, head falling back as you pull on that elastic just to let it snap back against him. His pants are soaking, and you feel that familiar rush of smug satisfaction as you slot your knee between his thighs. It does terrible things to your ego seeing him like this; it makes you drunk and dizzy seeing him drenched and needy for you, and you groan under your breath as he grinds against you. 
“Please,” he whimpers.
You hum as casually as you can. “Please what?”
“Fuck, please, I need you—” He cuts himself off with a loud cry of your name as you slide two fingers past his waistband and into his dripping cloaca.
“Keep going.”
He’s quick to turn into a blubbering mess, drool running down his chin and words slurring as he babbles and begs you to continue finger-fucking him. “Don’t stop, please—yes, yes, right there, there, fuck—”
Your fingers pump in and out, scissoring inside him at a harsh pace you know he likes. He’s sopping wet but that doesn’t stop the tiny spikes of pain mixing deliriously with pleasure as you stretch him wide without warning. You can feel his slick coating your hand, running down your skin and over your knuckles, and he only gushes more when you add a third digit.
“Faster, faster,” he chants shakily, almost sobbing when you slow instead. 
“You’re so tight, baby,” you purr. “I wouldn’t wanna hurt you.”
He’s definitely sobbing now. “I can take it, please, please.”
“Oh?” You curl your fingers and fuck him harder and faster, just the way he wants. His cock is there, thick and heavy and ready to drop, and he shudders as you brush softly against it.
His voice is choked as he calls your name again. "Gonna drop, please–”
Your laugh is light and a little cruel and it makes him wail, the sound overflowing with need and desperation. “Don’t you dare.”
“Oh god,” Donnie gasps as your fingers rub along his length still tucked inside, a fresh wave of slick trickling down to your wrist.
“I would’ve been kind,” you tell him nonchalantly, kissing his temple and huffing another laugh when he can’t stop his hips from grinding into you, body begging you to bury your fingers deeper inside him. “But you’ve been such a bad boy.”
He drops with a guttural groan followed by a pathetic whimper, gasping apologies feebly.
You sigh and pull your hand back, your resolve faltering just a little when Donnie whines and cries louder at the action. “You’re being very bad tonight, baby.”
He’s still wearing his pants and you roll your lips to hide a smile as he tugs them down frantically, his cock finally free in the air. His hands grip the arms of his chair so hard that you swear you hear them creak, desperate to touch himself but not wanting to disobey you any further. It’s a bit late to play innocent and good now, and you shoot him an unimpressed look that makes his jaw clench. “Please,” Donnie breathes.
Your hand is still soaked, and you watch him watch you as you raise your fingers to your lips, sticky tendrils trembling as you rub your fingertips together before parting them slowly. Eyes fixed on his, you glide your tongue over his slick, sucking gently and exhaling quietly at the flavour that blooms over your tastebuds. The arms of the chair are definitely creaking now, and you smile coyly as his cock twitches.
“Please.”
As much as you love teasing him into a pathetic frenzy, you remember his weary eyes and decide to put him out of his misery. There’ll be plenty of time to punish Donnie the way he deserves later – lots of edging and whining and begging and very little relief. For now, you’ll give him what he wants.
You kneel between his legs, coquettish as you glance up at him through your lashes; he’s working his jaw, teeth clenched and eyes darting wildly as he barely holds himself together. Grasping his hard cock in your hand, slick and heavy, you begin to pump slowly.
The chirps and churrs that escape him are whining and full of ecstasy, his eyes fluttering as you squeeze your palms around his thick length, hands twisting with an obscene squelch at every stroke. The lab is quiet apart from the wet pumping and his throaty groans, and you wonder if his moaning will be loud enough to wake the others. It wouldn’t surprise you, and the thought makes your hand move faster as you rub your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.
Donnie can’t stop the stutter of his hips, head falling back. “Fuck.” He swears louder as your lips suckle his tip, your name a rasping prayer spilling from his mouth. You flick your tongue, tasting the slightly bitter flavour of his precum and just how soaked he is, evidence of what you do to him coating your face, and he cries noisily when you suddenly take another few inches into your mouth and swallow around him. He’s hitting the back of your throat, and he feels like he’s about to faint from how tight and warm you feel.
A wave of embarrassment hits him as you pull back and smirk, his head still pressed against your flirtatious smile while you continue to work him with your hands. “Please,” he begs for what feels like the hundredth time that night.
“You’re so good at begging,” you praise, eyes sparkling when it makes him moan lewdly. Oh, that definitely woke someone up. He’s back to bucking his hips and because you’re so kind, you let him dictate the pace as you continue pumping.
“So close,” he breathes shakily. “I’m so close, please.”
“Please, what?”
His eyes roll back, and the arms of his chair finally give way, crumbling under his crushing grip as impressions of his hands mould into the metal. Donnie doesn’t stop rocking and whimpering. “Please let me come.”
You kiss the head of his cock once more, delighting in the way he tremors at the whisper of touch. “Be a good boy and come for me, Donatello.”
There’s nothing Donnie loves more than being good for you and he shows this by coming undone the second his name leaves your lips, body jolting and convulsing like he's been struck by lightning as you continue to milk his cock while his orgasm wracks through him. Your face is completely covered, ropes of his come painting your skin as he groans pitifully, the sound agonised and mewling. 
It’s almost silent for a few moments, the only noises are Donnie’s wheezing pants and whimpers of oversensitivity, and you watch him quietly. He’s so beautiful like this, blissed out, stress a stranger rather than a constant companion, and you wish you could both stay like this.
The moment is over too soon as the terrapin manages to open his eyes blearily, although they nearly shut again in dizzying satisfaction when he catches sight of your come-smeared cheeks. It’s dripping down your chin, threatening to spill down your neck and to your chest, and a part of you wants to leave it, relishing in the way Donnie is entirely transfixed, but you scoop what you can on your fingers and bring the sticky threads to your mouth instead.
Donnie’s lips part and his breath hitches and it’s your turn to shut your eyes in pleasure, eyes rolling and unable to stop a soft groan as you lick and swallow what he’s given you. “Mean,” he accuses again when you finally open your eyes, and you grin at how faint he sounds.
“Just for you,” you agree and he churrs instinctively, flushing as you snicker. He’s so cute, you think fondly, letting him reach out and grasp you closer, seeking comfort. And so easy.
“I think I need that nap now,” Donnie tells you weakly, and you huff another laugh against his sweaty skin, tasting salt and nuzzling further into him. 
You press a loving kiss to his shoulder and reluctantly pull back. “Shower then bed, come on.” His legs are shaky, and you purse your lips to stop from chuckling as he stumbles like a newborn lamb, begrudgingly relenting to leaning against you. “Poor Bambi,” you tease, brushing your lips against his plastron in a loving caress when he grumbles playfully. 
Hopefully, no one has been awoken by your night-time activities and, if they have, you hope they’re not up and roaming because you’d really rather not have to bump into any of Donnie’s family with his come still coating your face.
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frantic-fiction · 9 months ago
Text
Unexpected
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Pic: @cheekylittlepupp (I love her posts)
Astarion x gn!Tav, Astarion x gn!reader
Summary: A night of seduction takes an unexpected turn, leaving Astarion to realize just how deep his feelings for Tav have developed.
Warnings: Astarion not knowing how to handle affection. Mild disassociation. Astarion has a lot of confusing feels.
Word count: 2.8k
Masterlist
Astarion sprawls across the blanket, his spine cracking against the stretch. A reflexive groan escapes him. His arms are crossed to cushion his head while the sun's heat seeps into his bones. The last time he felt this warm and relaxed was when his heart still beat in his chest. He feels like he could trance, in just a moment.
It still baffles him, the luck of it all. Being ripped right out of that bastard's chains, only to be dropped in the middle of nowhere with a tadpole in his head and a bunch of problematic weirdos for company. And Tav. Tav, who Astarion has yet to fully figure out. 
At first, he thought the naive little hero thing was all an act, but no, that was just Tav. And a sweet, naive person was exactly who he needed to keep his place in this group. He had already seduced them; now, he just needed to keep them on his side.
Astarion is pulled from his thoughts. He's not sure why until his ears twitch at the sound of boots scuffing on dirt. Pushing up on his elbows, Astarion looks up towards the tree line. 
Tav, slightly obscured by clouds of disturbed dust, is trudging up the west trail. Their body seems to have deflated, shoulders slumped, both hands gripping their pack straps as if the moment they let go, the heavy bag would pull them to the ground.
Tav looks exhausted, not the kind brought on by a poor night's rest or a long day's travel. But one that builds up slowly, from continuous tasks and responsibilities, with constant eyes looking for guidance in a time none could imagine experiencing. The suffocating feeling that claws its way under the skin, burying deep behind fake smiles and pleasantries.
Sitting up further, he watches Tav start to make their rounds. First to Gale, they pull a necklace out of their pocket before placing it in his palm. The wizard makes what's sure to be a subpar joke, and Tav's delicate laugh rings out—Astarion glares in annoyance. 
Tav says goodbye and moves over to Wyll. They unsheaths a polished rapier- a replacement for the one Wyll managed to break when they fought against a pack of minotaurs. It's ridiculous if you ask Astarion, but Tav tells him to keep his comments to himself and, as they say, "don't bite the hand that feeds." 
After a quick hello to Lae'zel, Tav's eyes find Astarion. They perk up a bit, a timid smile stretching their plump lips. Astarion is now fully on his feet, returning their smile with a smirk of his own.
"Hello, my sweet," Astarion says, moving behind Tav. "Let me," he pulls the straps off Tav's shoulders, letting the heavy pack fall into his arms. "Hells, my dear, you carried this all the way from town."
"It's not that heavy," they mumble, reaching for the bag.
Astarion swiftly pulls the pack from Tav's reach. "What did you get?" He quirks his brow and unlatches the pack to begin sifting through its contents.
Tav huffs something under their breath and crosses their arms, but makes no further attempt to reach for the bag. 
The pack is brimming with food, potions, arrows, daggers, and scrolls, all basic supplies. "Boring," Astarion says, tossing the bag to the side carelessly.
"If anything broke, it's coming from your gold pouch."
"Yes, yes, of course," Astarion says, waving his hand casually before turning up the charm. They look up at him with lidded eyes and a glaze over look . "Are you alright?" Astarion asks, his voice laced with played-up concern.
"Hmm... O-Oh, yeah, yes, I'm fine." Their eyes dart away, seeming to look for the next lie. "You know me; I'm always doing good."
Astarion glances around the camp, looking at the others. None seemed to be paying attention to the two of them. He steps forward and brushes a strand of hair behind Tav's ear, trailing his fingers down their neck.
"I've begun to know you very well, my sweet, and I can tell you are exhausted."
"I'll be fine," Tav catches his hand and starts to play with his fingers.
Astarion freezes, brow furrowing in confusion. They're just pulling slightly at his hand. An odd feeling settles in Astarion's stomach.
Why are they doing that?
They let go a moment later, and Astarion pulls his hand back quickly.
"I've got to talk with Shadowheart; if you'd like, you can feed on me tonight." Tav hesitates before quickly pecking his cheek and skipping off.
Astarion is left staring after them with this dreadful fluttering in his stomach. A hand absentmindedly touches his cheek. His mouth feels dry, and he swallows hard. 
Astarion has an idea brewing that would please Tav, and maybe he would even get another of those soft kisses.
Why would he care for another damn kiss? Gods, what is happening to him? Is it the damn tadpole?
It's nightfall when Astarion finds Tav again. They are sat on the ground, suffocated between a growing owlbear cub and a slobbery dog. Scratch's tail wags and the subtle movement of Tav's hands petting each animal's fur are the only movements. Tav's eyes are closed, and their face is relaxed.
"Should I grab the cleric?"
"No, I think the rogue will do just fine." 
Tav's eyes open, their face breaking into a bright smile. They sit up, displacing the animals who no longer consider Tav a suitable bed. 
"Time for dinner?" Tav wiggles their fingers at them, beckoning for assistance.
Astarion scoffs but grabs their wrists and pulls Tav to their feet. Tav stumbles forward a step and presses into him. He gets the urge to kiss them for no reason other than he wants to and almost leans down to do just that when Tav speaks.
"So
 my tent or yours?"
Astarion blinks out of his thoughts. "Right, I think my tent tonight,” he offers his arm, which Tav takes. "This way, my dear."
Tav allows Astarion to escort them to his tent, where upon entrance, on a small table sits a platter containing a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese he nipped from Gale's pack, alongside a fresh vine of grapes he may or may not have gone all the way to the bloody town for. Tav mentioned it was their favorite fruit, and hearing the shocked gasp made that obnoxious trip at least worth it.
"What's all this for?"
"I was feeling a bit peckish tonight, so I decided to have a nice meal. I merely wanted to rub it in your face."
Tav rolls their eyes and punches him in the arm dropping to the ground. They pluck a grape from the vine, pop it in their mouth, and pierce the skin with their teeth. 
"Where did you even get all this?"
"If I told you the lengths I went," Astarion says, pulling out a bottle of wine and popping the cork. "I would have to kill you, Darling. I've got an image to keep."  He pours out a glass and passes it over.
Tav chuckles and thanks him and takes a sip. Astarion sits on a cushion beside Tav with his own glass, watching them slice the bread. It quiets long enough for Tav to finish the slice of bread with some cheese along with a couple of grapes. 
Astarion couldn't help but think how cute they looked, cheeks puffing slightly from too big of a bite. They swallow it with a mouth full of wine, a droplet falling down their chin. He wants to catch it with his thumb.
"But seriously, isn't this time reserved for your midnight snack?"
"Typically, but you looked so tired, my dear." Astarion places his goblet to the side and scoots closer to Tav. "I wanted to help you relax, help you sleep. You are always doing so much for everyone."
He plucks a grape and leans in, guiding it to their wine-stained lips. Lowering his voice, he whispers deep and low, "Let me help you."
Tav instinctually opens their mouth, letting the fruit fall in between their lips; their tongue catches Astarion's thumb briefly before his hand retreats. He cups their jaw, and traces over Tav's cheekbone.
 Every time he gets a chance to look, really look at Tav. Astarion can't help being captivated by their beauty. The shine of their hair, the softness of their face alway so warm and inviting, their nose scrunching up anytime he teases. So gorgeous. 
Tav's doe eyes flick down from his eyes to his mouth. Their tongue peaks out gently swiping across their bottom lip. 
Who kisses who is irrelevant. Only the feeling of their smooth lips gliding against his, the shaky exhale of breath, Tav's warm hands curling around his neck, fingers carding into his hair. 
Tav pulls away to breathe, running their nose against his. Astarion can't remember the last time a kiss left him wanting more. And having Tav rush back into the kiss as desperate as he feels sent unfamiliar shivers down his spine.
Astarion's hand presses against the small of their back, pulling Tav close to his chest. The other falls on their thigh, gripping gently like a lifeline. Astarion sighs low in his chest and runs his tongue against the seam of Tav's lips. They tentatively part, and Astarion chases the taste of grapes and bread.
Hells, he wishes to stay in the moment- in the softness of this kiss, the closeness of their bodies. His chest felt light, and the warmth of Tav's body under his hands is something he never wants to stop feeling. It feels as if nothing more needs to happen if either party deems it so.
But that wasn't how this worked. No one ever wanted a simple kiss. Astarion was never the innocent kiss that had you blushing the whole walk home. He was the sinful whisper and dirty looks. The pleasure before the end. Never this.
So Astarion begins the routine he's done a thousand times before.
His mouth leaves Tav's lips, trailing hot, wet kisses down the column of their throat. Tav releases the softest whimper when he bites at the flesh of their shoulder. Their fingers tighten in his hair. He grunts.
Astarion no longer feels quite present; it is more like he is simply observing the scene as a third party. Just finish the task. 
His agile fingers snake up their waist, pulling their shirt from their pants and caressing the smooth skin underneath. Astarion begins to unbutton their top when Tav grabs his hand.
"Wait." They say out of breath.
Astarion focuses back in, eyes taking in the look of Tav's flushed face and kiss swollen lips. They look flustered, and he's suddenly confused about why they stopped him.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, everything's fine. I was
" They trail off, looking away then back again. "Could
 we not do this tonight?"
That wasn't what he thought they’d say and it has Astarion momentarily at a loss for words. What does he do now? Tav's looking at him, and he's still frozen. No one has asked him not to have sex before.
"Yes, of course. Would you like me to pack this food and escort you back to your tent?" He sounds robotic to his ears and cringes. 
"No."
Astarion's brow furrows. Do they want his tent? Okay, he can work with this. Let them have his tent for the night; he'll be fine. And it's a nice thing to do since they don't want sex. He can still win favor. Right?
"That will not be a problem, my dear. I was going to be out late hunting anyway- probably until morning. You're welcome to sleep here. Rest well."
Astarion moves to leave- flee more like when Tav grabs his wrist.
"Wait," Their voice is so tiny.
Astarion turns back to Tav. They won't meet his eyes and are playing with his fingers again. Is this something people do? Or just Tav?
"Would you hold me?" A subtle blush began to bloom across their cheeks.
"I can't sleep; I keep having nightmares. I keep waking up trapped in my body." Tav released his hand to hug themselves. "I just don't want to sleep alone again."
Tav. Fearless, reckless, heroic Tav. Who killed more goblins and helped more people than any hero he could think of. To see them look so small, so vulnerable. And ask him. Him. To hold them, protect them from the monsters that torment their sleep. 
His mind is ricocheting around. Who was this person before him? So kind, so beautiful, so trusting of him, who deserves none of it.
Astarion has been quiet for too long. He knows this when he sees hope drain from Tav's wide eyes. They are looking for a way to leave.
"Okay," Astarion croaks, nodding before clearing his throat and repeating the word more confidently.
Tav beams at him. "Okay."
They stay rooted in place, awkwardly staring at each other. Tav bites their lip, tugging it between their teeth. Astarion feels like he's been plunged into the deep end. Every physical encounter he's partaken in was sexual and one he quickly left feeling used and disgusted.
This was new territory; did Tav want him to initiate? How did he initiate this without sex?
Astarion looks down when he feels a tug at his arm. "Um, would it be okay if we laid down?"
Astarion nods rigidly, his tongue cemented in his mouth. He moves to his bedroll and lays back. Astarion's body felt like a wood plank, he couldn't seem to relax. Tav sees this of course, because they seem to alway notice him. 
Everything Astarion wished to keep buried, all his dirty secrets, he kept behind the facade he perfected over the centuries. Tav seemed to see through everything. Read him in a way no other had.
"Astarion," he looks up, Tav's kneeling beside him, eyes full of concern. "If you're uncomfortable, I can-"
Astarion snaps back to himself. He shakes his head and props himself up on his elbow. A flirtatious smirk automatically stretches his lips.
"Me? Uncomfortable? Pfft, Darling, to have you pressed against me all night," Astarion reaches out to pull Tav's arm hard enough to have them stumble onto his chest with a small yelp. 
His voice drops to a husky whisper. "I don't think there's anything I'd like more."
Astarion chuckles at how reactive Tav always is to him. Their hands are splayed against his chest, face inches from his. 
They open their mouths to speak, but Astarion cuts them off with a kiss long enough to leave Tav chasing him for another.
"Though I will admit, having you so close, it's going to be very difficult to keep my hands to myself."
"I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself. I want you to hold me." Tav speaks plainly as they adjust til they are pressed against his side.
Their head is in the space between his collar and jaw. Astarion takes a deep breath. The smell of pine, rosewater, and something distinctly Tav hits his nose. The scent alone acts like a cool drink of water during a searing summer day, calming his anxiety. 
Tav grips the front of his shirt loosely and tangles their legs with his. Astarion was initially unsure what to do with his hands, hovering them slightly over the contours of Tav's body. But he adjusts quickly enough, and pulls them tighter against his chest, chasing the addictive warmth of their body.
This was strange, unfamiliar, but
nice. Tav's nose brushed against his neck, and the heat of their mumbled words fans over his skin. Astarion hums in question.
"Thank you," Tav repeats, yawning, their words slightly slurs from exhaustion. "You make me feel safe."
Tav was trying to break the record for how many times they could shock Astarion in one day. But before he could come up with a charming retort, their breath had already evened out. Tav fell into the world of dreams, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Astarion didn't trance that night, just staring up at the roof of his tent, listening to the soft breaths and steady heartbeat, rubbing absentminded patterns to the planes of Tav's back. 
Why couldn't he have found them when he was still so hopeful? Less broken. Because he think he might have been able to make it through just about anything with Tav by his side.
Tav, whose eyes find him first. Who makes sure he's fed and comfortable and okay with the plan even though he could give two shits about the poor fools that need saving. 
Who asks to be held at night when the dreams are too dark to handle alone, and they trust Astarion of all people to keep them safe? Where was Tav when he needed and pleaded for someone to care for and protect him from the cruelty of this realm?
Gods, he thinks he loves Tav. The thought turns his stomach to lead, but he stops and takes a deep breath. That is something he will have to think about tomorrow. 
All Astarion wanted to think about right then was the person in his arms. He kisses the top of Tav's head and closes his eyes. Astarion doesn't believe he's ever felt more at ease.
I really enjoyed writing this, so please let know what you thought. Astarion discovering his feelings for Tav past his survival instinct is a personal favorite type of fic for me, so I want to write one of my own.
Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive
Want to be added? DM me please!
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