#Second Person POV

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Lemme just… get some ‘practice’ in… if you don’t mind. From this post here. (This may classify as a Soft!Lion or just my version of him.🤷‍♀️)

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: A sleepy Lion, tired by endless battles but struck with desire can be a rather… pleasing experience.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @mothiir, @lemon-russ & the delightful Anon because you have given me the idea.

TW // SMUT, Soft-ish/Vanilla, Size Difference, Scent Kink.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|

Your form was sleeping in your lovers quarters: Lion El’ Johnson’s, The Firsts’. Your limbs tangled around in the deep green of his royal sheets. The scent left of him in the sheets driving your dreams to become of him. Your wish to kiss him on the lips whenever you pleased and desired playing out in the limitless landscape. A rather innocent wish to dream of in such a galaxy full of infinite dangers. Especially with a cold… Primarch.

You shuffle a bit when you hear the door opening to his quarters. Thinking, it was just a serf or some son of his wanting to know your whereabouts at all times considering they don’t trust you quite yet… Also, with the fact that you didn’t want to get up to just check up on who it was entering your— their Primarchs chambers. It would have been a waste to get woke up then irritated about…

However, your half sleeping mind can pickup the sounds of movement a lot more than usual. Most just like to enter in then out like it was a raid to be done. Never staying any longer than what they have been permitted.

This one… this one stayed longer.

You can feel the bed dip off to the side of you as if someone was climbing in with you. Your body sliding right to them by their weight, a small grunt leaving you while your body collides lightly with the person. A sense of a… pause, a hesitation in the air when you do.

Ever slowly, the person moves their arms around you, their skin sliding against your nightly clothes. Their hand placement being on-top of your chest, covering it with their mass. Their breath on the back of your neck as they snuggle you closer, inhaling your scent with an almost inaudible sigh.

Now, your sleepy mind can make up your lover by the stronger scent of him. The way his arms wrap around you, and how the lips of his mouth and beard brush into the skin of your neck, kissing it lightly. How his body presses up against you, folding you perfectly against him like a puzzle piece.

“Lion?” You mumble his name, testing it out. Your head lifting and tilting slightly to acknowledge the Primarch behind you. His head lifting slightly away from your neck to stare down at your sleepy state.

“Yes, wife?” His voice comes out strong but at the same time surprisingly soft. He wasn’t trying to be loud in this… intimacy that he was allowing and leading… He had no reason to be after all…

“Kiss?” You ask tiredly, your eyes still closed as you make such a simple request. Your mind wanting your dreaming wish to become true. Even if it was in the confines of his quarters and not whenever you desired… you wanted a kiss. A kiss from your lover that has been away from you too long. You had to rely on his fading scent in his sheets to keep you sane that he was still—

You’re a bit surprised when you feel his lips on yours. His beard tickling at your skin as he kisses you slowly, savoring your taste. His hand covering your chest coming up to drag against your neck then hold you in place by your jawline. Not letting you move from his kiss (turning into a passionate make-out session) as he moves his legs between yours.

“Lion.” You breathe his name again once you had a chance. His forehead resting on yours at an angle while you opened your tired eyes find your lover in all of his glory. His chest stripped of clothing and all for you to admire. His piercing eyes never failing to swallow you whole. To make you fall at his will and become a fallen angel. It was almost dangerous, and perhaps it was completely.

“Stay still.” He commands you lowly, moving his head to nuzzle into the side of your collarbone. Kissing your fragile skin compared to his. His frame rising while he deeply inhales your scent as his hand on your jawline moves back down your body. Trailing over your chest, your sides, hips and then thighs where he adjusts you slightly so he can lift your leg up at a comfortable angle. “Let me cherish what I crave.”

Oh, how were you to reject him? How are you to reject your— their Primarch of what he craves? Of what you crave? Your dreams can only satisfy so much compared to the real thing…

You hum as you feel a sudden heat press up against you: His cock pressing up against you; your clothing. Your body and head leaning back into him, sighing out as he uses that to his advantage. Never stopping his gentle attack on your collarbone and neck.

“Your naivety will kill you.” He states, humming into your neck. Always, somehow ruining the mood but at the same time getting you excited as he grips at your thigh he was holding, slowly ripping your clothing. “You are lucky you are my wife.”

“If I wasn’t?” You ask him, your chest swirling with many different, pressuring emotions. You’re not sure if you can stand his answer. The sound of your clothing ripping off with ease as the cold makes you shiver for a moment before the warmth was replaced by his cock.

“Then, I’ll have to make sure that you are.” He growls into your neck, saying the right words as it’s makes your stomach flutter. However, your words isn’t something he likes to hear from you, your denial. “You doubt me?”

“No, no…” You sigh, closing your eyes again, relishing in his attention. Something that you don’t get often from the Primarch… “I could never doubt you.”

The First hums at your answer, not exactly moved by it. His lips continually attacking your neck while he makes a move to push through your heat. His tip slowing going in inch by inch. His lips tasting your pulse for any discomfort that he might make more than usual when he takes you.

His hand lifting your thigh moves up to your abdomen once he is a good length in. Feeling just how much he affects you, just how much he can fill you up more than what a normal human could, ruining you only for him while he thumbs at your abdomen. Waiting for you to get accustomed to his inhuman size.

“Please, move.” You beg your lover, never demanding of him. Your breathing a bit irregular as you take his length and girth. Your hands tangling with the sheets while Lion nuzzles against your neck, forcing you to lean it back to kiss and nip at you as he pleases.

He moves at a leisured pace, never more than that, and sometimes you think it’s painful when he goes slow. His resistance to things showing even in the most intimate moments. Other times, you think it’s sweet when you’re having a particularly rough day with his legion that doesn’t even like you—

The Primarch gives you a particularly harder nip on your sensitive skin, sensing that you’re… distracted while he fucks you. His eyes always carefully watching you as he wants your attention on him in the moment. He is giving you his time to relish you.

“U-unnecessary.” Your voice stammers, a groan leaving you right after while your walls constrict around him. Body shifting slightly so his cock hits that special place inside you again.

“Necessary.” He grumbles back, his voice rumbling through his body. His cock thrusting a bit deeper into you once or twice to show his dedication; his seriousness. Never slowing or fasting his set pace. A slight groan leaving him when he feels just how deep he can go inside of you from your abdomen.

Your body withers as an unexpected climax hits you. Your eyes tightly closing as you stiffen up. Your walls tightening around his length, trying to keep him to you before your body melts into his. His cock still slowly thrusting in, and out of you. Dragging out your afterglow while he stops his nipping and kissing to focus on how well you try and take him. Inhaling the slight; more relaxed change in your scent.

It isn’t long before he allows himself to experience a high with you. His arms wrapping around you, pulling you a bit closer to him, hugging you; keeping you pinned to him. His cock grinding into you deeper, but still slow. His face nuzzling into your neck as he makes no sound of his warm cum staining your walls with his mark. His body stiffing slightly before he relaxes himself. The two of you basking in each others blissed presence.

A moment passes as the only sound in his chambers where the soft breathing of him and the irregular breathing of yours. Not a movement to be seen unless Lion moves from you, and he does after a second more. Moving his cock out of your warmth, and his form standing up from the bed to clean himself up then you before rejoining you. The bed dipping again at his weight as his arms wrap around you once more while his head slots right back into your neck, content with your scent; never leaving.

At least, your dreams no longer will be just dreams for a moment more.

[astrangerthatlovesyou]

“It’s okay to not be okay”

Unless it impacts your work performance…

Or your grades

Or how you act

Or if it causes you to say no

Or if you’re harder to be around

Or if you need time alone

Or if you talk about it

Or show symptoms

“It’s okay to not be okay”

Unless you have trauma

Unless you have one of those “scary” mental illnesses

Unless it inconveniences me

Unless you’re undiagnosed

Unless you cry or scream or make a scene

Unless you don’t keep that shit to yourself

Unless you make me uncomfortable

Unless I can’t infantilize or fetishize you

Unless you have hallucinations

Unless you have psychosis

Unless you get angry

Unless I think you’re cringe

Unless you can’t preform hygiene tasks

Unless you’re disabled, or trans, or gay, or not white, or fat, or AFAB, or intersex, or a man… so I guess anyone

“It’s okay to not be okay”

As long as nobody ever finds out.

Our society has a severe issue with performative activism, and mental health is a huge example of this. Every time someone considers reaching out, they run through this list mentally. This is why true activists and resources need to be loudly supportive of all the things on this list. Take the subtext out of your support.

[ladyymiisa]

RISE AND SHINE!

summary: mornings with shouta might be a challenge, but you still love him unconditionally, even when he's being a total pain.

tags: aizawa shouta x fem!reader, fluff, shouta is an insufferable little shit in this so i’m sorry if it seems a bit ooc

author’s note: misa writing about someone who’s not hawks? absolutely crazy. anyway, eat up my children!! (i wish he would eat me instead)

mornings with shouta can go one of two ways:

1. you wake up first, only to be sweetly persuaded into remaining in bed with him for another hour or so. this usually happens on the weekends.

2. you wake up first and are confronted with the formidable task of ensuring that your boyfriend gets out of bed on time to attend to his responsibilities as both a pro hero and a teacher.

today happens to be the second scenario.

“come on, shouta,” you urge, attempting to pull the blanket from his body, only to succeed in moving it a mere millimeter from his grasp. even freshly awake, his grip remains unyielding—a trait whose logic you’ll never quite comprehend.

with a sigh of frustration, you give the blanket another tug, this time applying more force. “your alarm has rung three times already. how much longer do you intend to lounge around?” you ask, your annoyance evident.

shouta remains silent and you find yourself sighing once again.

this won’t do. he should have been out the door by now, and you’re pretty sure nezu will give him another reprimand for being late once again. there’s only so much he’ll let slide.

with your lips pressed together, you silently watch shouta. you observe the steady rise and fall of his chest as he dozes off peacefully, without a care in the world. a few unruly strands of hair have fallen across his eyes, partially obscuring his face from view. perfect.

it's time to resort to plan b.

with your plan set in motion, you roll your shoulders, savoring the satisfying pops of your joints, then position yourself, ready for action. without an ounce of hesitation, you allow your body to collapse onto his like a ragdoll, face landing straight against his bare chest. this action finally elicits a response from shouta.

he grunts in disapproval, partly due to the unexpected impact of your body landing atop his own without warning, but makes no effort to push you away. instead, he remains there, defeated and motionless.

"get off." he grumbles, voice thick with sleep.

"only if you get up." you retort.

you feel the low rumble in his chest as he grumbles once more. a few seconds of silence pass, and just as you begin to think you might have won, his arms unexpectedly wrap around you, securing you in place.

this prompts you to gasp in offence and struggle against his grip, but your efforts are in vain. shouta has no intention of letting you go so easily, not when the warmth of your body nearly lulls him back into slumber. you let out a whine, lifting your head slightly to look at him.

the fucking bastard is smirking triumphantly.

with a resigned sigh, you allow your head to fall against his chest once more. something tells you that shouta won’t be the only one getting an earful from nezu today.

[ashinbloom]

Elegy for a Boymoder

"No, no no!" you shout, "I don't need domesticated, Miss Favali! I'm fine!"

"Petal," she speaks slowly, "I need you to put the knife down."

Without even thinking, you wave the knife through the air. "Why? I'm fine. I'm FINE!"

"I don't think you're fine, little one."

"I'm fine!" Your hand trembles around the knife. "I don't need domesticated and I don't need fixed and I don't need you fucking with my head!"

"What do you need, then?"

"I need you to leave me the fuck alone!" You hold the knife out with a shaky hand. She's already seen the scars, she already knows you're a fuck-up.

"I can't do that, petal. Please, let me help you."

"I don't need your goddamn help!"

"Have you taken your ætherea today?"

"I don't need it! It's poison!" You spit your words like the poison that the Affini, that Miss Favali, had tried to make you take. "You just want to fuck with my head so you can domesticate me!"

"Dear, I think you'll feel better if you just--"

"No!"

A tense silence hangs over your hab, the room far too big for you but the perfect size for an affini, and Miss Favali just watches as you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

"Can you put the knife down for me, petal?"

"No!" you shout, "I need it!"

"Whatever would you need that for, little one?"

"Need it! Gotta stay safe. Can't let you hurt me. Can't let anybody hurt me."

"Sweetie," her voice becomes a bit more stern, "I need you to put the knife down now and be a good girl."

'I'm-- I'm--" Your head swims with those words. 'Put the knife down', 'Be a good girl'. Your chest rises and falls inside your oversized hoodie and the knife falls from your trembling hand with a clatter. You collapse to the ground, muttering over and over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

You shiver as a shadow grows over you, and by the time you look up Miss Favali is bending down to scoop you into her vines.

"Shh, shh, I know you are, dear. It's okay," she tells you as you feel a gentle pinprick in your arm. You look down to see one of her flowers stuck to your arm.

You feel lighter in an instant, and only feel lighter by the second. You can't even remember why you had the knife, why you're crying. Miss Favali continues to coo softly and pulls you further into her vines as she gently removes your clothes from your body. You can see a light inside of her, singing to you and pulsating as her form writhes in an oddly pleasing way.

Your entire body feels amazing as her vines massages your bare chest and shoulders. You don't feel the usual sting of disgust when somebody touches you for the first time since you can't remember when.

"You don't have to be afraid ever again," she assure you in her melodic, soothing voice even though you don't know what you were even scared of in the first place. "I'll take care of you now."

"You will?" Your voice comes out muffled through the pink flower she has pressed to your face. A soft mist coats your mouth and nose, and when you breathe in it smells like cotton candy bubblegum.

"Now and forever, darling. Now, take a deep breath. Growing girls like you need their Class-Gs."

[myblogforeverandalways]

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘎𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵- 𝘒𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨

u guys making me feel special with all these likes gahhh. I'll edit this a little later, but I have a small one-shot for you lovely :)

Köing was not only nervous but also a caring man. At the start of your relationship, he only cared about you and what you craved and truly desired. This touched your heart, a giant prioritizing your wants and needs, even in the bedroom.

Köing never went too rough, constantly checking if you were okay as he kissed you softly, thrusting slowly into your glistening cunt, wetness dripping down your thighs mixed with his thick cum. Ready to be cleaned off by him later as he groaned your name in a mess of English and German, his voice lustful and loving. Your whimpers would echo in the bedroom; you had never adjusted to his size, not with a cock that big, stretching your gummy walls each time you fucked, only to feel like your first time all over again.

Köing was indeed everything you could ever want. His soft touch and alluring eyes, his tall, possessive figure that would make you wetter just looking at him as he held your hand in public, fingers intertwined—he was all yours.

Your sex drive was already at a painful high, and Köing adored it, never wasting a second as those eyes that would flutter every time he pushed into you harder with pure ease, legs over his shoulders, shaking while he eyed you in pure lust, panting like a worn dog, just in pure admiration for your body. Your tiny hands that dug into his biceps as he begged to go faster, a primal urge that tried to control him before he filled your swollen pussy up but;

"No, not just yet, my love. You get to cum when I want you to~." You smirked, hands caressing his hair back, fingers intertwining, knowing this got to him.

You liked to see him beg, to struggle to hold his leaking cum.

Sensitive, aren't you König?

Sensitive to your silky folds, the squelching, sloppy noises as his strength diminished under you.

And poor König, trying so hard to pull himself together as he grunted, kissing your neck in desperation, his stubble tickling against your tender skin, a yearning desire that he craved every night. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively as you mumbled sweet words into his ear because he deserved it. He deserved to feel special.

And as he couldn't hold it any longer, sinking into you, seed spilling into your pretty pussy, your greedy fingers circled your clit, begging for a release in return.

Edit: Thank you for the reblogs on my last 2 posts! I'm forever grateful to every one of you! I've reached, somehow, 50+ likes!? Insane work, thank you, luvs <3

[leighsartworks216]

You Hate Me

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Sooooo I wrote this one morning when even just laying down had my knees hurting and I was like,, well what if Tav had that too? Also inspired by the fact I get to campus an hour early and still try to rush to the (empty) classroom instead of, ya know, taking advantage of the huge time buffer I give myself

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of joint pain, insecurity, crying, possibly OOC, clown mention

Word Count: 1,545

Masterlist

AO3

Just a bit further. A little further and then you could rest. If you make it to that tree - make it to that tree and you can sit down. Just a bit left to go.

It started almost a week ago. Unable to cope with all the traveling, your right knee started bothering you. With every step you could feel your kneecap shifting back and forth with a dull click. Then, it started to hurt. Nothing serious. If you walked slow enough, you could avoid it. But now every step sent shocks of pain up your entire leg. Your left knee joined the party this morning, removing any sense of relief you had while walking. Even sitting down didn't remove the pain, but you couldn't afford a day off.

Your companions noticed the changes, despite your best effort not to show any outward discomfort. You moved slower, the occasional grimace slipped through, they weren't traveling quite as far. You consider asking Shadowheart for anything that could ease the pain, but you already knew there was little she could do to help. So you grit your teeth and kept going.

Your foot stepped on uneven ground and you nearly dropped from the agony that shot through your whole body. Karlach worried you might actually just collapse. But you kept going.

Astarion couldn't bear it. None of them could - they hated seeing their intrepid leader fight their own body just to go a few more feet - but your struggle settled like a boulder in his stomach. Every time your face scrunched up, every hiss of your sharp inhales, felt like someone had stabbed a knife in his chest and was twisting it ever deeper. He hated the feeling.

With only a few long strides, he slipped from the back of the group to the front, walking alongside you. He had to change his normal gait just so he didn't surpass you. "Darling," he hummed quietly, just loud enough to keep the conversation between you two, "you should rest."

You shook your head. You didn't even spare him a glance. Your eyes didn't shift from the tree. "We're almost there," you dismiss. It's slightly breathless. Despite needing to walk slow to avoid the pain, you were pushing to go faster.

He tsked. "And how far do we still have left to go?" He tilted his head as he looked at you, already knowing whatever distance you said would be too far.

You nodded to a tree dead ahead. "Once we reach that birch, we can rest."

"That birch?" He pointed. "The birch tree that's nearly half a mile away?"

He could feel you bristle with his incredulous tone, but you didn't say anything.

He scoffed. "My dear, I can be stubborn at the best of times, but this is ridiculous! You're barely staying upright as it is."

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not," he sharply cuts you off. He grabs your arm and pulls you to a stop, holding you there with enough force that you wouldn't slip out and keep going. You refuse to look at him even now. "You're wincing, your hands have been clenched for the last mile, and you keep stumbling. The tree will still be there if you just sit down for a minute."

The rest of the party watches from a distance. Far enough away they can just make out what Astarion's saying, especially as his voice rises in pitch the more frustrated he gets.

Standing still hurts. It's hard to say if it hurts more or less than walking; it just hurts. Your face is pinched as sharp jolts run up through your joints, like someone is poking you with a sewing needle. Walking, you decide, must be better than this.

"It's not that far," you insist, voice low. "And when we get there, we can-"

"Gods above, you're impossible! Fine. Fine! You want to get to that tree, fine." He lets go of your arm.

Before you can even take a step, he's sweeping you into his arms, supporting you with one arm under your back and the other hooked under your knees. The pressure hurts for a moment, but it quickly fades away. The lingering aches are from pushing yourself too hard. He begins marching once more toward your end goal.

You want to shout, to demand he put you down. But when you look up at his face, his eyes are sharper than usual, lips pulled into a tight frown and crease forming between his eyebrows. He's angry.

He's angry with you.

The words die in your throat. You hate being so dependent. You were the leader - you needed to be strong and fearless and without weakness. To receive help feels like someone plunging their hand between your ribs and stealing away a chunk of your worth. But seeing Astarion upset, upset with you, that stings far worse.

You avoid looking over his shoulder. You could just imagine their faces. How Lae'zel would scowl at you for being weak. How Gale's face would turn somber when he realizes you're not as capable as he thought. You couldn't bear it. So you press your forehead to Astarion's neck and stare at your lap.

There's an unwelcome burn at the back of your eyes. Shame floods your chest and crawls up your throat until it chokes you. Water pools along your lower lids and blurs your vision. You can't walk and now you're going to cry. Just how fucking pathetic can you be?

Astarion's head shifts and you can tell he's trying to look down at you. He's trying to see your face. Because he can feel you shaking in his arms. He can hear your lungs quivering as your breaths become uneven and choppy. You press your closed eyes against his throat and he can feel the hot tears against his skin.

His frown softens, though you can't see it. He slows down to a stop and tells the others to go on ahead, to the birch tree just there, and start working on setting up camp, but all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. Their faces become fraught with worry; Karlach is the last to go. She still looks back once or twice. Astarion finds a suitable rock and he sits.

"Shh, sweet thing," he cooes, voice no louder than a whisper. His arm around your back pulls you into his shoulder, hand tangling in your hair as he cradles you. His other hand rubs soothing circles along your thigh. You gasp around a sob, body curling further into itself, into him, as you release your emotions. "It's alright."

You strangle out an apology. It's wet and croaky and painful.

"Whatever for?" he asks.

"You're mad at me," you whimper.

He huffs. The frustration from before rises in him again just thinking about it. "Yes, I am."

He feels your breath catch in your throat, and the heaving breath you take after. "You hate me."

Astarion laughs, short and sharp. "Why would I hate you, dear? Because you're too stubborn for your own good?" You don't have a response for him. He kisses your head, wherever he can reach. "I'm mad because you put yourself out trying to solve all of our issues, but the moment you have one of your own, you refuse any help. You're going to tear yourself apart."

He sighs and rests his cheek atop your head. His fingers rub the nape of your neck, gently tugging at the hair there. You carry so much tension, it's a wonder your muscles haven't locked up from the stress.

Time passes slowly in his arms. It seems to take forever before you start to calm down, and even longer before your eyes have dried. He does nothing to speed the process aside from gently hush you when you try to choke out apologies.

You sniffle quietly. Your eyes are raw, and you're all too aware of the stain of water you've left on the vampire's neck. When you speak, it's a painful creak in your vocal chords. "You don't hate me?"

He presses another kiss to your head. "No, love, I don't hate you. Not unless you've done something truly horrific, like invite a clown to show up at camp in the middle of the night." You chuckle weakly. It's such sweet music. "Gods forbid you start donating to charity." You laugh this time, and Astarion's chuckle vibrates against your ear.

His fingers detangle themselves from your hair with one last gentle tug, and his arm wraps around your back once more. As though you weigh no more than one of his pillows, he stands once more with you in his safe grasp, and begins heading for camp. He can see Karlach up ahead light up when she sees you're finally on your way.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I just feel so... useless, like this."

"Please, stop apologizing," he begs, dramatically. "Just say 'thank you' and we can move on."

You peel your face from his skin, dried tears sticking you together. You wince at how disgusting this must be for him. You lean up and kiss his cheek. He smiles at the affection. "Thank you."

Softer, he says, "Of course, my love."

[darknights04]

Sensing You

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x reader

Summary: You and Ominis have been friends for as long as you've been at Hogwarts. He's felt more for you for almost just as long. He's never thought about telling you, but that was until the new fifth year put you in great danger.

Warnings: Spoils for Hogwarts Legacy (obviously), pain, cruciatus curse, unedited, not proof read. Reader is not mc

Masterlist

When it came to you, Ominis was no stranger to the idea of the long game. You, Ominis, Sebastian, and Anne had been friends for as long as you could all remember. Ominis has had a crush on you for almost just as long. It was worst this year. With Anne staying home all your attention was turned to the two boys. Usually you would turn to Anne some days and have girl time between the two of you. Now, Ominis had nothing but time to grow more and more infatuated with you. 

Ever since the new fifth year beat him in a duel, Sebastian had been mostly with them, giving you and Ominis even more time alone together. It was driving him crazy. Every time you laughed in the way that he loved, rested your chin on his shoulder to look at what we was doing, leaned your arm against his to whisper something during class. He had to hold himself back so he didn’t just grab you and slam his lips onto yours. One of the only parts of you he has yet to be able to identify. As children you would play games, Ominis feeling all of his friends’ faces and guess who was who, so he knew the general idea of what your face looked like. But your lips was a mystery to him. A mystery he badly wanted solved. 

Today, you were sitting with Ominis in a corridor near the slytherin common room. You had spent most of the day trying to cheer him up after Sebastian repeatedly would bother him about Salazar Slytherin’s Sciptorium. You knew that he wanted nothing to do with dark magic after the hold it has had no his family for generations. Sure, Ominis had been exaggerating his hurt feelings just a bit, but if all it took was a little pouting to get you this close to him, then you best believe he was about to win an oscar for this performance. 

“He just doesn’t understand how dangerous it is!” he complained with a dramitic sigh, smiling internally due to the hand you had running soothing circles across his back.

“He’s just trying to do anything he can to help Anne,” you replied, wanting to defend him. 

“I know. I don’t like seeing Anne suffer either, same as you. But I know where this path leads, and it’s never a good place.”

Ominis’s internal smile fell as he heard you greet the new student Sebastian had befriended. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked them with a small scoff.

That scoff, of course, resulting in a small smack on the shoulder from you, muttering a small “Manners,” in his ear. Ominis rolled his eyes, but the smile he had inside, reserve just for you, came back once more. 

“Do you have a moment?” the new student spoke up. 

Ominis didn’t want to, but he heard them out. After lying about Sebastian showing them the undercroft, Ominis has been wary about this student. Even so, he was feeling at ease due to your presence, and in turn agreed to show them where Salazar’s Scriptorum was located. 

“I hope we don’t regret this,” he said with a sigh as he revealed how to access the door. 

“We’ve just been sitting outside of it?” you asked with a chuckle, noticing you didn’t have to even move to be at the door. 

Ominis shrugged, his internal smile showing through just a bit on the outside. “It was the first place I thought of.” 

“First place you thought of to go and complain about the scriptorium?” 

“Precisely.” 

Before any of you knew it, Sebastian and his new friend had opened the door, ushering each other inside. 

“I just hope we’re ready for this,” Ominis continued to sigh. 

“We’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure. 

“We?” Ominis had repeated. “You’re not coming.” 

“What? Ominis you can’t possibly expect me to stay behind.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“If you’re going, I’m going,” was all you said, standing your ground. 

“Y/n…” he had tried to coax. You didn’t say anything, hands finding their way to your hips. Ominis sighed. He knew you were stubborn, so he also knew there was no talking you out of this. “Fine.” 

Your stubborn glare quickly faded into a cheek to cheek grin as you almost skipped next to Ominis, linking your arms together before making your way into the door, following behind Sebastian and the fifth-year who had already found their way inside. 

Not that you would ever admit it, but hearing Ominis speak Parsetounge did something to you. Yes, the language often ties a witch or wizard to dark magic, and for Ominis it serves only as a reminder to his family, but that doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate how attractive it was when he spoke it. 

“It worked!” the fifth year spoke as the door opened. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.” 

“It’s nothing,” he brushed off, retreating back towards you and linking your arms once more. 

“Truly,” you agreed. “It’s fascinating.”

If you weren’t near positive that Ominis would never think about you in a romantic way whatsoever, you would have sword you saw a small tinge of red grace his cheeks at your comment. But it was probably just the lighting. 

Once the door was open, the other two were fast to start figuring out the puzzles and the maze in order to get through the scriptorium. You and Ominis had stayed behind. Ominis wanted nothing to do with this, his job was just to open the door. You were curious about the area, yes, but Ominis was more important. You wanted to make sure he was okay. Usually throughout the days he would have plenty of distraction from his family and their legacy. But now? In the heart of Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium? All that surrounded him were reminders. 

As the doors opened one by one, you all moved further and further until you reached a black door. 

“Looks troubling,” was all Sebastian had said. 

Ominis scoffed. “This whole place is troubling.” 

As the other two went into the strange room, you didn’t budge. As Ominis was stopped from the firm grasp you still had on him, he turned towards you confused. 

“I don’t like the looks of this room,” you whispered. “I have a bad feeling about it.” 

“So do I,” he responded,his hand finding the top of yours to comfort you. “But for my aunt’s sake, we cannot stop now.” 

“You’re right,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “We’ll be okay.” 

As soon as you stepped into the new room, the door closed behind you. 

“The gate!” Sebastian called out, “We’re locked in… again.” 

“Then Salazar Slytherin is not yet finished with us,” Ominis sneered. At this point, you began to panic. There was no clear way out. You began to lose even more hope when you looked in the corner and noticed-

“A skeleton,” the new student pointed out. “And Noctora’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here. Trapped by… and unforgivable curse.” 

Your eyes widened. The incantation “crucio” etched into the floor suddenly making sense. 

“No,” you said in a slight panic. “No there has to be some other way out of here. Another puzzle? Another brazier to light?”

“What?” Ominis asked, confused. “What are you talking about? What is it?”

“They know what we need to do,” Sebastian said plainly. “One of us needs to cast crucio.” 

Sebastian turned to his friend by the door, discussing the curse with them while Ominis began to pace. 

“Ominis,” you called to him. “Ominis relax, we will figure something out.” 

“No,” he said simply. “No this all could have been avoided. I could have refused, we could have just gone to dinner. I could have protested more to you joining.” 

“Ominis none of this is your fault.”

“Yes it is! Don’t you see? I put you in danger.”

“I chose to be here.” 

“But you had doubts, and I assured you that it would be alright.” 

“And we are alright. We’ll find a way around this.”

Before anything else could be said, they heard the new fifth year shout out “Crucio!” in Sebastian’s direction. The two of you looked towards the pair with wide eyes, about to call out towards Sebastion until… nothing happened. 

“Did you do the movement wrong?” Sebastian asked. 

“No,” they responded, shaking their head. “No, I think that I just couldn’t mean it. I care for you, Sebastian.” 

“You have to try,” he urged.

“I can’t.” 

“Cast it on me,” you spoke up suddenly, taking a step towards the pair. 

“No!” Ominis had interjected quickly. 

“They can’t cast it on Sebastian,” you began to explain. 

“You can’t-”

“We don’t have the same connection so they could-”

“Not you!” 

“Ominis,” you sighed, quieting your voice as you pulled him aside. “I will be fine.”

“I’ve felt the cruciatus curse before so I-”

“Shouldn’t have to go through it again. Let me do this, please.” 

Ominis didn’t say anything more. You took his silence as a sign of agreement, so you approached the door. 

“You ready?” Sebastian had asked you. 

You nodded. “Ready.” 

Ominis braced for the moment that the spell left their wand. He knew what to expect, but he’d never heard the sound of excruciating pain from you. That was something he was not curious to find out. 

Ominis listened as the screams left your throat, as you fell to your knees on the ground. He expected this. He expected the screams to last for several seconds. But this was too long. If they had just cast the curse and left it at that, the pain would have subsided by now. This was prolonged for too long. 

“Stop!” he yelled over the screams. “That’s enough!” 

He waited for what felt like eternity for the screams to stop. For any sign that you were no longer in pain. But when your screams had cut off abruptly, it did not give him the relief he was waiting for. 

“Y/n?” he asked into the silence. “Y/n are you okay?” Never had there ever been a moment in his life that Ominis had wished more that he could see what was happening around him. When you didn’t respond, he began to walk towards the door, calling Sebastian’s name instead. “What’s happened? Are they okay?”

When Sebastian didn’t respond either, Ominous really began to panic. “Answer me, Sebastian!”

“They fainted,” the student told him flatly. 

“What?” he hissed, rushing to where he last heard your voice, hands failing about to try and find any sign of you. When his hand landed on your shoulder, he let out a small breath of relief, almost as if he expected you to have disappeared entirely. “I’m taking them to the hospital wing,” he then announced, following down your arm to find the bend of your knees, intending to pick you up.

“No!” Sebastian protested. “You can’t.” 

“And why not?” 

“They’ll know we were using unforgivables,” the fifth-year stated. 

“What if we need you to open another door?” Sebastian commented at the same time. 

“Glad to see you both care so deeply about their safety,” Ominis scoffed.

“You can’t carry them and use your wand to lead you both,” Sebastian continued, looking for another excuse to keep the boy there. “Let’s find the end of this tunnel and then we’ll take them there together, deal?” 

Ominis sighed, head faced towards the floor. He didn’t want to delay getting you the help you needed, but Sebastian was right. He could crash you both into a wall and injure you further. As much as he hated to admit it, your health was in their hands now. 

“Just hurry up, will you?” he muttered quietly. 

---

When you finally awoke from your unconscious state, Ominis was asleep next to you. Looking around you noticed you were no longer in the dungeons, but instead in the hospital wing under watchful eyes. Well, not that Ominis could very well be included in that. 

As you turned to look at the boy next to you, you moved as quietly as possible. Lacking his sight, Ominis seemed to have much higher hearing abilities than anyone else you knew, so you knew that any sudden noise would be enough to wake him. Your theory was proved correct as he stirred awake at the small ruffle of the sheet. 

You watched as he opened his mouth, but no sound came out as if he changed his mind on speaking up. Instead, you saw his hand slowly reach out towards you, as if to confirm you were there. 

“I’m awake,” you told him with a smile. 

Ominis let out a small breath of relief. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” you nodded. “I didn’t expect it to last that long.” 

“It shouldn’t have,” he said, almost with a sneer. “That new student had to curse on you for longer than it needed to be. All we needed was for it to hit you, they made it linger. They’re lucky I don’t go straight to professor Black and have them expelled.”

Ominis’s thoughts stopped in their tracks when he felt you lay your hand on top of his. 

“I’m alright,” you assured him again. “Lay with me.”

“I- What?”

“Please? I don’t want to think about any of this anymore.”

Ominis sat still in thought for a moment, stammering slightly to himself before standing from his chair, feeling around the bed to make sure you were out of the way before laying down beside you. You layed your head onto his chest and exhaled deeply with a contented sigh. Ominis smiled gently to himself, his nose falling into your hair as he inhaled your scent. He decided then and there that it didn’t matter that he could never see you. Every other sense he had t otake you in was just fine for him. Your voice was enough to bring a small smile to your face, your laugh even more so. Your smell felt like home to him. He could tell you were in a room just by the smell of your shampoo. He could pinpoint which brand it was in a shop just with a small whiff alone. The touch of you skin never failed to comfort him in times of distress. The soft, delicate touch of your hand on his would always bring a smile to his lips. Your taste.. He was yet to be abpe to experiance. The only one of his available senses that has yet to experience you. The rest thought you were perfect, he could only imagine that would be the same.

That is, assuming he ever decides to do anything about his feelings for you. 

For now, however, this was enough for him.

Part Two

[aethes-bookshelf]

let me be your shelter || astarion/gn!tav

This is the result of an especially hectic exam season. I started writing this fic instead of having a meltdown lol Now that I have more time again, I decided to finish it :) I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: hurt/comfort (mostly comfort), gn!Tav (can be read as a self-insert), Tav/Reader is the one being comforted

Pairing: Astarion/Tav, Astarion/Reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Summary: You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. Even after everything you'd been through, you put on a brave face. All the way up until you couldn't.

Luckily, Astarion's always there to pick up the pieces.

ao3 link

The sun was setting outside when you finally closed the front door of your house behind you, cloaking the entrance corridor in darkness. The straps of your pack were digging quite painfully into your shoulder, no doubt leaving angry marks on your skin. You threw it to the floor with a huff and closed your eyes for a moment,

The day's exhaustion rolled off of you in waves; hours worth of dust and grime stuck to your clothes and skin. Rebuilding the city after the Battle of Baldur’s Gate was a noble cause. It being noble, however, didn’t make it any less exhausting.

You tried running your fingers through your hair, but your hand almost got stuck in it instead. The firm tug against your scalp made your eyes water. Your back was on fire, your legs were on fire, your face was tacky with drying sweat. It was all so much, too much.

Curling up in a corner and staying there until the sun fell out of the sky seemed worryingly appealing. I still have to go back out there tomorrow, though, you thought. The ugly, choking pressure in your throat got tighter and tighter. Your eyes, still clenched shut, brimmed with tears.

‘Darling?’ called a familiar voice from somewhere on the other side of the corridor. ‘Why are you just standing there? At least light a candle or something. It’s not like you can see like this,’ the voice continued, getting closer.

There was the hiss of a match being lit; one, two, three candles lit up the darkness.

‘Well, not that you can see much with your eyes closed, anyway,’ said Astarion. All snark left his voice when he saw the first tears roll down your cheeks. ‘Oh, I wasn’t that mean, was I? Why are you crying, love?’

‘I-I’m sorry.’ Your voice broke. ‘I don’t- don’t know why, I’m just- just so…’ you trailed off as the first sobs tore out of your chest.

Just a few months ago, Astarion would be looking like a deer in headlights right about now. He still remembered the very first time you broke down after the whole Absolute-tadpole nonsense was over. After everyone else went their separate ways and you chose to stay to help rebuild the city and he chose to stay with you. Naturally.

The breakdown happened soon after. The second night the two of you slept in your brand new bed in your brand new house, the dam inside you just broke, shattered into pieces; and you were swept up in the current of the build-up grief and fear.

Astarion, as much as he loathed to admit it, panicked. He had no idea how to comfort people; after all, it wasn’t a skill necessary for survival for most of his life, so he never really bothered to learn it. He still hadn’t even after whatever the two of you shared at first turned more serious. You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. The stable one. The stable one never gets to cry, so you didn’t.

As ashamed as Astarion was when he realized it, he hadn’t even thought you could cry. It just never really crossed his mind.

Luckily for the both of you, he loved you far too much not to learn from his mistakes after that very first night of the rest of your life. He’d like to think he got comforting you down to a science.

‘Would you like a hug, my sweet?’ Step one was almost always physical contact. And not just because holding you became one of his favorite pastimes; rather, it was grounding for you to have something to hold onto when you got like this. Astarion would gladly volunteer to be that something whenever he could.

You didn’t trust your voice enough to answer, so you just nodded instead. You were starting to tremble; rarely a good sign. Whatever stress-induced breakdown was happening would probably be a big one.

Astarion knew better than to try to wrestle you from the spot you were standing in. It would do nothing except agitate you further, so he simply walked up to you and gathered you into his arms.

The moment you were close enough to hide your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs that had been building up inside you this entire time wrecked your body. You were wailing loudly; so loudly you’d be embarrassed if you had enough energy left in you to care.

Astarion winced slightly at first — you were close enough to his ear for it to hurt. Still, he held you closer, firmer. Just enough pressure to help you calm down.

Eventually, your wailing died down to sobbing, and sobbing turned into soft sniffling. He tried to run a hand through your hair; his fingers nearly got stuck in it, just like yours before.

‘Would you say no to a bath, darling?’ he said, voice soft and quiet. ‘I got some new scented oils a few days ago. I even paid for them this time.’

That got a small chuckle out of you. Your throat was raw and your face was even more sticky now; a bath sounded wonderful.

‘I’d rather like a bath, I think.’ Your voice was all scratchy. You’d probably have one hell of a time trying to speak tomorrow.

‘Come on, then.’ Astarion kissed the top of your head and gently pried you away from his neck.

Usually you were the one leading him everywhere; he supposed in moments like these it was his turn to lead you instead. He walked you to the bathroom, holding your hand. And he didn’t even comment on the snot you left on his shirt, which was a great show of understanding on his part — as far as he was concerned — although he did take it off and throw it in the laundry basket as soon as the two of you entered the bathroom. All his love for you didn’t mean he’d be okay running about in a snotted-up shirt.

He sat you down on the floor near the bathtub and filled it with water. He smelled each of the new scented oils with great consideration. The last thing you probably wanted at the moment was having to pick which oil to put in your bath, so he wanted to make the choice for you — and to make the right one.

After the bath was all prepared, Astarion helped you out of your clothes and walked you to the corner of the bathroom, where he washed most of the dirt off your skin. Making sure you could properly relax also meant making sure you wouldn’t be soaking in dirty water, after all.

Soon enough, you were sitting in the bathtub with your eyes closed. Right after helping you inside the bath, Astarion ran off to grab your favorite hairbrush. And now, he busied himself with detangling the mess your hair had become over the course of your day. He talked and talked all the while — about his day, about this awful thief he managed to thwart the other night, about the shopping trip he went on the day before — about everything and nothing, just to keep talking. Just to fill the silence with noise that would drown out your screaming, tired mind. He didn’t expect you to answer; it was enough that you listened.

After your hair was brushed, washed and conditioned, Astarion dried you off and brought you a freshly washed set of pajamas.

‘You need to sleep, darling,’ he said, handing you the clothes. He knew you were far too tired to argue with him on that. As endearing as your usual desire to stay up with him for as long as possible was, you needed rest — badly.

‘Will you stay with me?’ you said. You felt much better now that all the grime was off of you, but the thought of laying in bed alone made you want to cry all over again.

‘As if I’d ever leave,’ scoffed Astarion as he took your hand again, leading you out of the bathroom.

The coldness of his bare chest was a much needed comfort. You nuzzled closer to him as he threw a thick blanket over the two of you. He reached over to his bedside table.

‘I could read for you, if you’d like.’

You mumbled out a ‘yes’. Your eyelids were so very heavy, but the idea of hearing Astarion’s voice rumble in his chest right against your cheek sounded lovely.

He chuckled to himself. ‘You’re adorable when you’re tired.’

He started reading. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was reading, rather to the sound of his voice itself. The individual words and sentences blurred into one, continuous rumble. Listening to him speak felt like falling deeper and deeper into a pile of the softest pillows.

You were out before Astarion could finish the first fifteen pages of the book. He noticed by the end of page twenty. When he did, he gently put away the book and held you tighter against him. And he may or may not have left a few kisses on your forehead, but that’s neither here nor there.

Astarion got comforting you down to a science. And he was damn proud that he was the one you trusted to comfort you in the first place.

[justaweasel]

I always imagine MC getting summoned into the Devildom in different ways at the start of the game, but this one has STUCK so I'm screaming into the void to get it out of my personal void

You had just finished with your little project. For some reason, you had wanted to create a piñata. It was a fun little project and after you could destroy your creation in a plethora of ways. It'd be almost therapeutic.

As you got up to wash your hands of the weird flour (can be too glue btw) , water mixture. For the split second that you blinked, you had blipped into an entirely different room. You looked around, obviously confused. There were a few men there, in a weird court-like room. You wanted to rub your eyes to make sure what you were seeing was really true, but refrained from doing so due to.. the state of your hands.

Wait.

Your hands...

You looked down and then up again, down, up, down, up. You saw the look on their faces. Some confused, some flustered, some amused, and others completely indifferent. In a rush you had tried to explain yourself.

"This is papier-mâché, this is papier-mâché, this is papermache, thisispapermache, thisipapermache!" Your words sort of blended together as you frantically tried to justify the.. that on your hands. The man on the highest chair, the red-headed one, chuckled and raised his hand to silence you.

There's probably more that'll pop into my head, but that's all for now :3

(Just imagine Asmo ribbing you later when you make a pact.

"Was that reeeeaaallly papier-mâché?"

"Shut up.")

[intestinalemphasis]

You expected the pred's roommate to have just a little more sympathy for you. You were eaten against your will, after all.

Through the echo of groaning made by your new pink prison, you could hear them, conversing with the pred currently holding you captive. You were sure they were trying to question them, and that the pred was just as likely spinning the story, to seem like you were long gone and turned to soup now, that there was no way that you could be spit up. An excuse to let them keep you for good.

You had to state your disagreement. You protested against their tall tale, pressing and kicking against the walls of their stomach. The pred belched, inadvertently squeezing you tighter in their stomach, until your outline was just visible across their plump midsection for you to wriggle with livelihood. The proof was less in the pudding so much as it was in the pudge.

There was a pause of silence between them both, and you wondered if their roommate was contemplating their decision. It wasn't like you had anything else to tell their emotions by, aside from the muffled conversation.

"They still seem pretty alive, if you ask me."

"I- ...well, I mean, uh..."

"They sure are trying to put up quite a fight in there..."

You couldn't see their faces, but you knew the roommate had bent closer to you, because another pair of hands squished into the sides of your slimy chamber, as their voice rumbled,

"Just the way I like it..."

There was another wet gurgle around you, as the pred burped again. You groaned as you were sloshed against the stomach walls by a pair of hands.

"So feisty and tough...you're a keeper, that's for sure. I'm gonna have so much fun watching them make a meal out of you..."

Hands were poking and prodding and jiggling you around, and you were sure, with a sinking feeling in your chest, that neither one of them had any intention of letting you go...

[husbandograveyard]

Part of my 2024 Kinktober - Masterlist here

Prompt: Thigh riding Word count: 1200 Reader: No pronouns used, reader has a vagina and breasts, no nicknames used Cw: power imbalance, a bit of powerplay, Sukuna talks down on reader, but no explicit degradation, dom!Sukuna and sub!reader, thigh riding, slight begging, nipple pulling, Sukuna has 4 arms, size difference minors / ageless blogs interacting will be blocked

“Strip” 

That was all he said while staring at you intently, making you shiver as you shed your layers, putting them to the side. Usually, you would neatly fold them, but you had heard the impatience in his voice. You knew the consequences would be yours to feel if you made him any more impatient. Any other day you could have tried to take it as a challenge, but not today. The way he looked at you and the way he spoke made it more than clear: you shouldn’t even think about being a brat now. 

Now you stood before him, completely naked. Even sitting down he was almost as tall as you were standing up. You felt vulnerable, his eyes scanning your figure, one of his hands motioning to come closer, and closer, until one of your knees nearly bumped into one of his. He had all his clothes on still, and you couldn’t fully read his expression. It made the situation even more daunting, even though generally good things came out of these situations. 

You felt the tension rise while he made you wait for a few more seconds. You studied his expression, which still wasn’t clear, and he didn’t break eye contact unless you did it first. The feeling was intense, and you were startled slightly when one of his lower hands hooked behind your knee, effectively pulling you into him. 

It took you a second to register what he wanted you to do, before you spread your legs slightly, enough to take a seat on his thigh. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sensation of the fabric on your bare sex, and you felt your body reacting instinctively: pressing yourself down just a little bit more, looking for more of that contact. 

His two lower hands settled on your hips, holding you in place firmly. You looked up at him, eyes pleading for more instructions, your hips moving a bit: a search for more friction badly disguised as settling.

“Desperate already?” The amusement was clear in his voice as he almost sneered at you. 

You weren’t sure what to reply. Agree with him, and risk him denying you pleasure? Or try to deny it? You weren't that desperate yet, though the anticipation made you more aroused than you cared to admit. You stayed silent in your indecisiveness. Generally Sukuna already had planned out what he wanted to do with you, and you were just there to follow along, occasionally resisting the inevitable. 

He didn’t really wait for an answer, the hands on your hips suddenly pulling you forward while still holding you down. You let out a sound that was something in between a yelp and a moan, placing your hands on his chest in an attempt to steady yourself. The sudden movement had sent a wave of pleasure through your entire body, but the speed at which it happened had taken you too off guard to properly savor it. 

You didn’t have to wait too long to be able to feel it again though, as Sukuna swiftly repeated the motions, handling your body with ease. He did it again and again, yet you couldn’t get a grasp of the rhythm he was setting- leaving you to buck your hips in desperation as you searched for the right rhythm, the right angle, anything to get the buildup you were craving. 

As if he read your mind, Sukuna flexed his thigh muscles and shifted his leg slightly, so most of the pressure was now directly on your clit. The movement was small, and you couldn’t do anything but moan loudly as he kept up his relentless, rhythmless handling of your body. 

“Sukuna- I- you- please..” 

You were starting to struggle to form coherent thoughts, let alone form sentences to say. You weren’t exactly sure what you were asking for either. 

One of his free hands came up to tilt your chin, keeping your eyes fixed on his, while his final free hand trailed up from your sides to your chest, just another sensation that was completely out of control. You cried out when he pulled at a nipple, right at the same time the stimulation between your legs was at another height. It was all too much, and at the same time, not enough. Everything was out of your control, and if he could just give you that little bit more, you knew you could- 

“Look at me.” 

You weren’t even aware you had closed your eyes by now, too lost in all the sensations to register that you had shut out one of them. You opened your eyes, feeling your already erratic heartbeat missing a few beats just by seeing the way he was looking at you. 

“What are you asking for?” 

You whined in response, he knew damn well what the answer to that question was. Just as well as he knew that it would take all of your power to be able to formulate it. Meanwhile his sensory assaults on your body didn’t rest, and you felt a constant buildup that just as constantly slipped away, it was nothing but frustration filled with pleasure. 

You were about to answer when he pulled at your other nipple harshly, and you let out a cry. He chuckled in response, thoroughly amused at your reactions, rock hard at the sight of you completely at his mercy. He’d have his turn after. For now, he’d just enjoy your reactions, your desperate helplessness. 

“Say it. Beg for it if you need.” 

You groaned, your thigh muscles and abs tensing from the effort of seeking out the exact rhythm you needed. You didn’t want to- truly, but you couldn’t not ask for it. You needed relief and release and you needed it now.

“Please- Sukuna,” you started, voice strained from the effort, unable to breathe as deeply as you would like. 

Sukuna didn’t let up on his movements, dragging your cunt over the now soaked fabric of his yukata, keeping your gaze fixed on him.   

“Please”, you groan, “let me cum”, adding another ‘please’ for good measure, knowing fully well about the effect your pleas have on him. 

It seemed to satisfy him just enough for him to slow down a little, movements becoming more precise and matching the rhythm of your hips. You grasped onto his upper arms with a gasp, your fingertips digging into his skin as the buildup was there faster than you anticipated- as if your body had been preparing ever since this started. 

“Go on then”, Sukuna said, looking you straight in the eyes, “cum.” 

You nodded desperately, focusing on the almost electric jolts of pleasure you were feeling now. You only needed to roll your hips a few more times before you felt the buildup reach a climax, your muscles tensing up as you clenched around nothing when you came, crying out Sukuna’s name, messing up his clothes even more. 

You felt yourself slump forward just a little as you came, your hands steadying you on his chest. Even though you had stilled your hips by now, Sukuna hadn’t let up on his movements and you were whining out, pleasure mixing with something you could only describe as ‘too much’. You heard Sukuna snicker. 

“Let’s see if we can do that again.”

[sirjaketkiszka]

Silver Springs Masterpost

Early20s!Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I know I could have loved you but you would not let me…

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Being best friends with Josh, you figured you’d get along well with his twin… You were wrong. Jake Kiszka is arrogant, cocky, and all things irritating.

With the semester being over, you spend your summer with the band before they leave town to chase their dreams. If only you knew what that would entail;

Jealousy, secrecy, and heartbreak…

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Word count: 22,502

Warnings: 18+!!, jealousy, lying, cursing, arguing, eventual smut, underage drinking, and mediocre writing.

(each chapter will have its own list of warnings as well.)

Disclaimer: in no way does this storyline follow real life events pertaining to personal lives, tour schedules, release dates, etc.

Playlist inspired by Silver Springs.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Chapter List:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five (coming soon…)

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Tags:

[strawwritesfic]

Kelvin!Spock x Female!Human!Reader: Mr. Right

Summary: When one door closes, another opens—perhaps the door you were meant to enter all along.

Warnings/Tags: Starship Enterprise; post-Star Trek Beyond; friends to lovers; breakup; almost kiss; counselor!reader; Star Trek: The Original Series references; Star Trek: The Next Generation references

Relationships: Spock/Reader; Spock & Nyota Uhura; past!Spock/Nyota Uhura; past!Kevin Riley/Reader

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Requester: @lovemesomeescapism

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: For once, this is not a repost for this challenge…technically. I did write a response to the prompt "Mr. Right" ages ago, but when I was reposting, I decided that the Now You See Me one shot I wrote really wasn't worth keeping. Someone on Tumblr asked me for a Spock one shot, so I slipped him in as a replacement.

It's been a really long time since I finished something new. I realize that I am rusty. This is actually several drafts into attempts to write this one shot. For the first time ever, I actually cannibalized previous drafts while trying to get the meandering dialogue and point back on track. It still doesn't feel quite "right" to me, but it's probably going to take some time before I get back in the swing of things, and I'm ready to let this one go.

Mr. Right

Throughout Terra's history, human beings had sought the comfort of white noise. Quiet droning sounds proved beneficial for many aspects of mental health in the species. As a counselor on board the U.S.S. Enterprise, you'd recommended listening to white noise to dozens of fellow crewmates and patients alike. The best way to do this in the deep space you'd all been exploring for nearly five years was to turn everything in one's quarters down until the low hum of the ship's warp drive became audible. Many of those crewmates and patients reported back to you with decreased stress levels, improved mood, and a distinct uptick in ability to concentrate. Almost all of them said they got better sleep.

Now you learned that every single one of them had lied to you.

You'd spent the better part of the evening-adjacent hours lying face-down on your sofa, trying and failing to take a nap. The scratchy, standard-issue pillow beneath your face was soaked with tears. Your chest ached. Worst of all, any attempt on your part to get your mind off what upset you just ended with you crying harder. All the while, that awful rumble went on and on and on and on relentlessly, allowing you no respite long enough to drift off and forget your current predicament.

A chime cut through your misery. You paused without so much as lifting your head. As of three hours prior, you were officially off duty for the day. Nothing required you to answer the door unless an order came down from a superior officer, and they would call first. Probably it was only Uhura coming by to check on you. Having been through her own breakup during this voyage, surely she would understand when you didn't let her inside.

The chime sounded again, and with it came a surge of possibilities flooding your mind. What if your visitor was dealing with a crisis? Cases of PTSD had been on the rise since the events on Altamid. You could hardly ignore that in favor of your own small, personal crisis. Off duty or not, your role as a ship's counselor would not allow you to wallow in self-pity when someone might need your help.

As your boots hit the floor, you pressed one sleeve of your rumpled blue uniform to the corner of each eye. The gesture wouldn't do much to disguise what you'd been doing over the course of your time off, but you felt a little steadier afterward. Breathing deeply in and out helped too—until you hiccuped. But you could prepare yourself no more. Squaring your shoulders, you stood, walked over to the door leading to the corridor, and opened it.

Just outside stood the familiar, lanky figure of the ship's science officer. The second you spotted him, you wiped your sleeve across your face with greater urgency.

"You're not one of my patients," you said, "or Uhura."

"A very astute observation, Lieutenant [L Name]," Spock replied.

A long moment elapsed during which the two of you stared at one another. Several fellow crewmates in various uniform colors threw curious looks at his back as they passed by on their ways to wherever they were headed. Your friend, meanwhile, allowed a single dark eyebrow to drift toward his hairline. He clearly had no intention of moving on.

"What are you doing here?" you sighed at last.

The wayward eyebrow rejoined its brother. "Lieutenant Commander Uhura informed me that you left your office this afternoon in distress. I note that her assessment was an accurate one. If anything, you appear to be in more distress now than she described to me then."

You couldn't lie to Spock, not when you looked the way you looked after a crying jag like the one you'd just had. So you didn't bother to try. "Fine. I'm in distress. But really, Spock, it's not the kind of distress you can help with. I'm sure Captain Kirk will need you on a landing party any minute now, so if you'll excuse me—"

"Lieutenant Commander Uhura also informed me of the cause of your distress."

"Of course she did." Sometimes you wished your two friends were a little lighter on the "amicable" part of "amicable exes." "Let me guess: You came by to tell me that you told me so."

"As a Vulcan, I have no reason to rub my correct prediction in your face, if you will forgive the Terra colloquial."

You let out a wet laugh despite yourself. "You're pardoned."

"What I have done is stopped by the mess hall. If I am not much mistaken, ice cream is a traditional consolation food in these types of situations."

He produced from behind his back a number of different colored tapes. So startled were you that you found yourself unable to say anything. Never in a million years would you have imagined Spock of all people standing in front of you and offering you junk food of all things. Your silence went on for so long that he had to prompt you to speak:

"Was I incorrect in my understanding of how to handle Terran breakups?"

"No," you said, then, "I just didn't want you to find out about the breakup until I could pull myself together."

"I surmised as much, given that Lieutenant Commander Uhura found out about your circumstances before I did, although you and I are closer friends. It would have been more logical for you to contact me for assistance than her."

Vulcans as a whole were difficult to read. Even factoring in your education and training, as well as your friendship with Spock that had gone on for several years now, you could only guess his feelings the majority of the time. Not so then. Something about his tone made him sound hurt. Maybe you could chalk that up to projecting your own feelings onto him, but you couldn't risk that assumption.

"It's just that you warned me against dating Kevin," you explained. "As ship's counselor, I should have seen the end coming a kiloparsec away."

"Perhaps. But one might also say that your extensive proximity to the crew's emotions might cause some loss in objectivity on your part."

"So you're not here to make me feel worse?"

"I came for consolation purposes. That is all."

"Well, all right, then."

You stepped away from the doorway. Spock followed you in. He paused only long enough to press the button to close the door before he came to join you in your sitting room. A crate sat on the floor along his path, and he looked at you questioningly as he walked by it.

"Those are Kevin's things," you said.

"Expedient," he observed.

Normally, you might have tried to go for a little more decorum around him, but that day you didn't have the energy to do more than flop back onto your couch. At least you were upright. Spock, on the other hand, claimed a dignified perch at the end of your chair. The two of you certainly made an odd pair.

"He had so many hair products!" you burst out when the awkward silence turned unbearable. "I should have known we wouldn't work out. Who brings that much hair spray into deep space?"

"Humanity can hardly be expected to iron out all its flaws when you all cling so hard to your baser emotions."

"Do you mean Kevin's desire to look nice, or my need to be in a relationship?"

Spock blinked, then smoothly said, "In this case, I refer to your former beau's preoccupation with personal grooming."

"Right. Either way, I'm about ready to get rid of all my own baser emotions. Not feeling them would be a blessing." You got back to your feet and thrust one hand in Spock's direction. "Ice cream tape, please."

He offered one to you.

"Spock," you said warningly.

"I do not believe that heartbreak is an excuse to overeat. I only brought so many because I was unsure which flavor you would select."

The glare you leveled at him seemed to make him think better of lecturing you on the dangers of gluttony—as well it should have. This was the same glare that you gave Dr. McCoy when you were tired of listening to him. Unlike with Dr. McCoy, you smiled once Spock dropped the rest of the tapes into your outstretched hand.

"Thank you." You headed for your in-quarters food producer, then turned your head to ask over your shoulder, "What flavor do you want?"

"I do not require ice cream."

"Come on, Spock. If you're going to spend the evening commiserating with me, you have to have some ice cream, too. That's a critical part of the Terran breakup process."

One corner of his mouth twitched. "I'll have pistachio, then."

You fed the yellow-green tape into the slot. A quiet beeping noise covered the hum of the warp drive as the computer worked. While you waited, you flipped through the remainder of the flavors until you found the one you wanted.

"I don't think it would be a good idea for you to give up emotions," Spock said.

"Huh?" Frowning at him, you replaced his tape with yours. "Aren't you the guy that's been talking about doing the Kolinahr when we get back to Earth?"

"That's different. I am a Vulcan."

"Half Vulcan."

"Vulcan enough."

A shriller beep put an end to this potentially sticky subject. The ice creams were ready. You dumped the rest of the tapes in a basket next to the food producer, picked up the bowls, and brought them back to the living room. Spock took his with a grateful nod, though he waited until you sat down again before taking a bite.

"Maybe I'd be a better counselor if I didn't have emotions," you mused. "If I wasn't blinded by my own feelings, I could help the crew more with theirs. I shouldn't have the same problems as they do after all the studying I've done."

"While that may indeed make sense, it is hardly realistic. Besides, if you did not have your human emotions, you would no longer be the [Name] that I know, and I believe that I would miss her."

You couldn't help but smile around the spoon in your mouth. Popping that out, you said, "I bet you say that to all the Terrans you like."

"Hardly. In fact, that captain may benefit from an hour or two without his usual emotions."

"I appreciate you saying that, Spock."

"I am only speaking the truth. I have no intention of bolstering your ego artificially, even if doing so is a part of the Terran breakup process."

"I know." You slowly lowered your spoon back to the bowl, staring off into space. Something was dawning on you—something that might have dawned on you sooner had you not been so enthralled with your own feelings. "You know what else I appreciate? You coming here to help me today. Not every first officer would go out of their way for a ship's counselor like that."

Spock fixed you with an unblinking gaze as he said, "You mean a great deal more to me than most ship's counselors mean to their first officers."

"I don't care what Captain Kirk says. You sure know how to make a woman blush."

"I have had some practice with the activity."

"Remind me to thank Uhura later."

"Thank her for what?" Spock asked.

Maybe you were reading the signs wrong. Maybe you were just desperate. If he had to ask, you had to be wrong. But you took a deep breath anyway, and said, "Helping me realize that maybe the guy I've been looking for this whole time has been my best friend all along."

How could it have taken you this long to work it out? No one else spent as much time with you as Spock did, not outside of your office hours. It didn't matter if you were in the mess hall asking for a round of Fizzbin after dinner or you wanted a quiet night in your quarters. He always seemed to be there. You felt comfortable around him. Maybe you didn't always understand Spock; maybe Spock didn't always understand. But you didn't enjoy anyone's company the way you did his. And you had to wonder when your eyes met just then if he felt the same way, and if this coming-to-see-you-with-ice-cream thing was his way of showing you that.

"Well," he moistened his lips before going on, "I certainly feel that our relationship is founded more steadily upon mutual interests and desires than it is upon a passion for hair products."

You leaned forward. "You know, that sort of relationship sounds really appealing right about now."

"It does?" Spock shifted closer to you.

"I think it's about time that I dated someone whose first thought in the morning isn't beating me to the sonic shower, don't you?"

By that time, you both had come so close that it wouldn't have taken much more movement on either of your parts to touch lips. Your heart gave a painful leap inside your chest. Was this too much too fast? Even if you had just realized you'd had a thing for Spock for a while now, you had only just broken up with your last boyfriend that morning. Treating Spock as a rebound was the last thing you wanted to do. He didn't seem to mind, though. His mouth drew closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath on your face.

The communicator in your room chirped. You jumped. Spock paused before sitting back up in his chair. Then you rose wordlessly, stepped over to the panel, cleared your throat, and pushed the button.

"[L Name]," you said.

"[Name]?" Uhura did not remark on how breathless you sounded, thankfully. "I need to talk to Spock."

"It's for you," you said unnecessarily. Spock had already reset his face into its typical blank mask and made his way to the communicator himself.

"Spock here. What is it, Lieutenant Commander?"

"Captain Kirk needs you on the bridge. We have a situation up here."

"What kind of a situation?"

"There's a former United States President floating outside the ship. He says he needs our help."

"I will be there right away."

A second chirp signaled that communications between your room and the bridge had ceased. Spock turned back to you.

"My presence is needed on the bridge," he said.

"So I heard."

"I apologize. I believe we were in the middle of something."

"It's all right."

He didn't move.

"Spock, go. Don't you want to know why a deceased historical figure has asked for the Enterprise's help?"

"I'd prefer to stay here," Spock said. "But you are correct. I must leave. Will you still be here later tonight?"

"Yeah." You surprised yourself with the eagerness of your answer. "Yeah, I will. I promise I won't run off with any other lieutenants while you're away. I'll save the rest of the ice cream. We can share it when you get back."

There it was: The slight curl to Spock's mouth that told you that you weren't making up the mutual attraction between you both after all. "To use another Terran phrase, it's a date."

He hesitated another moment longer before he quickly exited your quarter. You grinned as the door slid shut behind him and the white noise returned full force. As you sunk into your couch and pillow this time, you found you didn't mind the hum as much. In fact, the sound did exactly what it was supposed to do: Relax you. Kevin and his excuses from that morning felt farther away than your own home planet. Maybe you owed him a thank you, too, because if you were still with him, you wouldn't have slept as well as you did that night knowing that Spock would be back soon.

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: A very lecherous gift for you authors and readers.

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You have been tricked into believing one of your bonded’s needed your help, and they do, but it turns out it was much more. Way much more.

𝕬𝖉𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: Hura, Darsas & Blasius are bonded to the reader only for this despicable story. This is not canon.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams(It is almost exhausting to wright for 4 characters. How did you do your lovely Raven bois?), @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐂’𝐬: Hura by @/gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan & Darsas by @/sleepyfan-blog.

TW // Smut, Foursome, Breeding, Boobies, Marking, Overstimulation, Tentacles.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|

Oh, how you should have known better than to trust one of your fellow friends that had called for you. Telling you that one of your lovers, mates, spouses, bonded has not been feeling well. Especially Hura, an Astartes of great strength and mystery to him as well as an Apothecary: A Astartes skilled in medicine.

So, the Astartes medic should have been alright, right? Though, by being a loving spouse. You choose to be ignorant of how your friend said those warning words to you. All full of snarkiness and hidden amusement, and yet… You continued on to see how your lover was doing, checking up on him. Fearing no one would help him despite being a well known Astartes.

Oh, how you should have known from the start.

“Hura!” You cry, arching your back into the bed as the Apothecary has his hand positioned lightly on the back of your head, pushing you down and keeping you pinned into his mattress. His huffing, hot breaths painting across that back of your neck as you can feel how his cock twitched inside of you, spilling his warm seed deep into your womb. His lips then nibbling; biting at the back of your neck.

“So sweet, little mouse.” Hura purrs down at you, gently into your ear. Sending a shiver down your spine. His form thrusting a few times when you do, gaining that little bit of extra friction while he groans. Pumping more of his seed into you. “Coming to my aid.”

“Perhaps, I shall call for you more often?” The Death Guard Apothecary thinks to himself. His breath tickling your neck as he started up again, slowly thrusting in and out of your marked walls. Your body completely melting underneath him as you bite into the sheets, muffly moaning into them. Not really expecting him to go at it again after a round or two, maybe more? “You seem so willing, so pretty…”

Hura doesn’t seem that he is quite done with you. Not at all actually… He can finally breed you with almost reckless abandon while you were just trying to help him with his situation after all. Walking into him at the wrong time. A time where most would prioritize this certain situation and should take a leave for it.

Admitly, you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into at first, but with a couple well played coos, praises and soft words towards you. You eventually inch closer to him, and he had you right where he wanted you. Nude and willing to provide relief for him.

The Apothecary can feel you withering underneath him, moaning and crying out for him, biting into the sheets below you. Pleasured tears running from your eyes as you didn’t expect such intense of an intercourse from a gentle Apothecary like Hura himself. It was not many times he would be so sexually driven to the point where he was rough and deep like he were to… like he was trying to breed you. Yet here he was, going at you once more, again and again. Driving your mind numb with your only thoughts about being him and only him.

Oh, such a sweet thing you are. You should know their breeding times. He has taught you all this before. Some have these… primal, sexual desires; the need to breed while others were more… normal as they can be. Telling you how overwhelming it can be for a baseline human like you. How most do not stop until they are satisfied with how well they stuff you with their mark, their kin and Hura the Apothecary was no exception to these delicious whims.

Soon as you entered through the doors of his quarters he doesn’t hesitate to lure you over. Cooing and talking to you softly, getting you ever closer to him before he snags you. Bringing you into a very intoxicating kiss. A kiss that has you buckling your knees and falling right into his hands. If you were to refuse the kiss, (which you didn’t.) He would have let you go, let himself suffer the primal drive of an aching cock. Though, he could always ask the other bonds to see if they can provide him the relief he craves for…

He groans again, pressing himself up against you more, squishing you lightly into his sheets. His own armored chest pressing gently up against your back, completely covering you in him: his scent, his mark, his body. Enjoying how well you taste on his rotting tongue as he continually nibbles and kitten licks all over your skin, pleasing his senses well.

“You are like the nectar out of the Garden of Decay.” He rumbles, his chest vibrating through his armor. His tongue giving you a lick at the back of your neck before returning to his mouth, savoring your taste with a hum. His nose coming in to nuzzle into the side of your neck, inhaling your scent. Comforting him that you wouldn’t leave him any time soon. That you would be stuck with him until he is finished with you.

“Rightfully sweet and savory.” He mumbles, purring into your skin. Shifting a bit against your back so you cannot wiggle without him allowing you to do so. One of his hands grasping at your hips while the other holds him from absolutely squishing you beneath his armor and weight. “I wonder if you taste just as good from the inside just as you do out?”

He knows the answer to that one, but he can’t help question it over and over again, like he almost forgets your taste, and by Nurgle he will swear that he won’t. It’s why he has to come back for more. To feel you move and rut into his face while his tongue explores the depths of your baseline anatomy. Drinking up anything your body can give him.

His body shivers as he climaxes again, nuzzling into you more. His hand on your hip keeping you in place as he can feel you shiver and whine; whimpering into the sheets. His cock twitching and stilling all the way inside of you, keeping you full of him.

Tucking his head into your neck. He snuggles on top of you all while keeping track of how much you can take from him. If you need any water or snacks for him to provide you with… your more fragile body. Listening to your stuttering breaths and slobbering moans you voice through his sheets as he purrs lightly at you, comforting you.

“You are doing so well for me, little mouse.” He praises, raising up a little from your body to look down at you properly on his bed. Keenly observing how your body was pinned tightly beneath him and how you were shaking slightly. His Apothecary side coming out just a bit. “Do you need any water, any food? Would you like to continue?”

“N-no, just want you.” It takes you a moment to respond considering his cock was still inside of you practically cockwarming you, and he had just railed you like… three times or more? “Always want you.”

“Oh, such sweet words my little mouse.” He can’t help but purr down at you. Placing his gauntlets on your ass and giving it a little squeeze. “Don’t let Blasius hear you say that.”

“Don’t let Blasius hear what?” Another, masculine voice comes out of nowhere. A figure of armor walking into the room and closing the door behind them. Restricting access to those who were not permitted in Huras quarters.

“Ah, Darsas…” The Apothecary coos at him, not at all bothered by his sudden appearance. In fact, it pleases him more to know that his other bond was doing okay. “How are you?”

“I knew I felt something… primal going on here.” Darsas comments, either ignoring Huras question or too enraptured with that was going on in this room. His form kneeling down on the side of the bed; next to you. His gauntlet coming up to gently pat you on the head.

“Should have told me you were in your season, Hura. I would have also provided you.” Darsas states to him, looking up to the Apothecary while still patting your head. “I know how you are during your time of… need.”

“I would have summoned you, but it seems little mouse had wanted to aid me…” Hura responds, gently squeezing your ass again. Thrusting a little bit inside of you. Hearing you whine out and push up against Darsas gauntlet on your head.

“Is that so?” The Psyker hums, looking down at you. Inching a bit closer so he can caress your head, going from your scalp to your jawline; gently hooking your chin with his armored finger, making you look up at him. His dark brown, almost black eyes taking in your hazy, blissed out ones from beneath his helmet.

A tiny crack sounds out from Darsas while his helmet spits where his mouth would be. Not splitting up into different sections of a mouth, simply just like taking off a piece of his helmet. Showing his mouth littered with needle sharp teeth, and a long tongue escaping his mouth, rolling like a snake before slowly drags it up your cheek, tasting you. His saliva staining your skin with his smell.

“Such a sweet little mouse, isn’t she?” Hura asks Dursas, gently massaging your ass as he thrusts slowly inside of you. Groaning a bit as he can feel you tighten around him.

“Hmmm, very sweet.” Darsas agrees with a hum, moving his tongue along your face. Going from your cheek, jawline, chin then your lips. Prodding at them, asking you to open up. Purring at you when you do. His tongue evading your mouth, taking it over. Swirling around your own, trapping it. His saliva mixing with yours, and it is a bit more thicker and hotter.

You try and recuperate with them, but it hard when you have a medic in his cycle behind you that has railed you multiple times already, and you can’t remember how many times. Then, you have the Psyker in front of you, making your mouth his. Tasting you for all your worth, making sure not to leave anything untouched.

“Darsas…” You manage to moan out, muffled by his tongue. Your shaky hands coming up to grasp tightly at his helmet. Unsure if you wanted to push them both away because of their intensity or not… They were being so soft with you, going slow and letting you recover before starting up again. It was almost like they had found an infinite cycle to fuck you at a rewarding pace.

“Yes, little flower?” He purrs, pulling his tongue out of your mouth and licking the excess saliva from your lips, making sure you stay clean. Knowing how Hura can be…

“I— hah! Fuck…” You curse and shiver, grasping onto his helmet more harshly, tucking him into the top of your chest. Another wave of bliss over coming over you while your body shivers and melts into him. A thick warm feeling going through your nerves and womb as Hura coos down at you. Leaning over again to nip at your shoulders.

“Pretty little mouse.” The Apothecary praises in your ear, giving you a couple more thrusts, making you rock into Darsas as the Psyker rumbles lightly at you. His gauntlets gently coming up to rest on the sides of your torso, liking the feeling of your naked breasts being pressed up against his helmet. “So helpful, so tasteful, all ours…”

Darsas purrs into your chest. Once again agreeing with Hura, shaking his head a little bit. His tongue coming back out to slot right between your breasts, lapping at you slowly and curling around the curves of your chest. His gauntlets squeezing your sides lightly as he can feel your breath stutter at his sudden actions to feast on you.

The Apothecary breeding you chuckles, leaning back up to trace the spine of your back. Pressing his armored fingers gently into your back, up and down. Watching how you keen into his touch, very sensitive to both of them. He wonders how much longer you can take before you need to take a very needed, and rewarding break; in other means, grateful aftercare.

Hura attention snaps up to Darsas as the Psyker suddenly whines. His Apothecary senses going wild that something may have happened when he released that Blasius had somehow came into his room. The more… animalistic Death guard pulling Darsas back gently from their little mouses’ chest, rumbling deeply down at him, giving the Psyker a gentle nuzzle to the side of his helmet.

How did Hura not notice the other Death Guard, his other bond come in? He was sure he would have noticed him, but he supposes not. The cycles does tend to make some oblivious to their surroundings, but very aware of the bonds.

Either way, he is strangely happy that he had all his bonds around him. A content purr coming out of him as he watches the two other Death Guards nuzzle on one another. Though, he not one to leave out his little mouse. His gauntlet coming down to grasp at her waist and pull her back into him.

She gives him a little whine at the sudden movement. Her hands coming to grasp back at him. Nuzzling into his vambrace when he wraps his arms around her front, keeping her up against him as he was still inside of her walls, cockwarming her. His nose nuzzling the top of her head before kissing her neck.

“Look what you have done, little mouse.” Hura coos into her ear, making her shiver on his cock. His gauntlets slowly tracing her front up and down. “Made us all eager.”

“Can you go one more round, little mouse? Hmmm?” He asks, still aware that you were just a human. He didn’t want t break you, and that would leave a heavy mark on him if he did. He was an Apothecary, not so much of a killer… unless he had to be.

You not sure if you could go another around. Sure, you loved the sex, but it can go on for too long and put a strain on your body. Plus, you know better to but upfront with all your Death Guard’s. Especially, with Hura. No one ever plays with the medic unless he wants to himself.

“I-I’m not sure.” You stammer tiredly, but still buzzing with almost numb pleasure while you glance at Blasius and Drasas. Both of them getting into a bit of a power struggle with their tentacles. Trying to see who would fold first, and with Blasius having more tentacles than Drasas… it is an unfortunate advantage for Blasius as he uses them to wrap around Drasas own and under the poor Psyker armor. A surprised sound coming out of Drasas then a heavy gasp when Blasius uses everything in his advantage to dominate. One of other tentacles coming out to go under Darsas helmet and drag along where his hair would be. Knowing just what makes any of his bonds, partners tick.

If he wants to breed, he’ll make it happen with all the best advances. Using everything out of a book or a… specialist is such matters. Though, the whole room is a bit lucky Blasius is not in such a mood, not they wouldn’t finding it rather exciting…

“That’s alright, little mouse.” Hura hums into her ear, nuzzling just right below her earlobe. Glad that she wasn’t going to try and push herself, even with him in such a… “horny” state. Learning such a word from a peculiar Emperor child. “We always have tomorrow.”

“T-tomorrow?” You hesitate to even recite that word back to him. Your mind trying to comprehend doing such heavy acts again tomorrow. Your walls tightening around him at the thought…

Hura laughs lightly at you then rumbles when he feels you tighten around him. His body shifting a bit to hit your g-spot in return in a teasing manner. “Yes, tomorrow. You are not leaving my quarters untill I dismiss you.”

You can’t help but groan at his words, leaning back into him more. Sometimes, you hate Apothecaries like any other normal person and Astartes alike… So bossy… “You’re going to have to give me a doctor’s notice…”

The Apothecary laughs at you again, nuzzling into your neck before he slowly lifts you off his hard cock that was going to be that way for a few weeks… His hands adjusting you carefully up against his armor and heading for his bathroom. “Of course, little mouse. Let’s leave these too to… explore for themselves.”

You nod at that, grateful that Hura is always so caring. Your body snuggling up into his arms as you catch a brief glance of the Blasius and Darsas. Their armor shifting as Blasius hisses at the Psyker to stay still. He is just trying to tease the hell out of his second most sensitive lover. :(

[leighsartworks216]

For A Cuddle?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Wrote this this morning bc the brainrot is real

Warnings: mentions of dried blood, referenced blood drinking and hunting

Word Count: 535

Masterlist

AO3

You're so tired. Your eyelids droop, almost fluttering shut, before you blink them open once more. It's late at night. You haven't slept at all. You certainly could, if you allowed yourself to give in to the warm embrace of dreams. But you didn't.

Astarion went out to hunt a while ago, and hasn't come back yet. This was completely normal. Sometimes he'd be out all night and only come back in the wee hours of the morning. Other times he was gone for just a few hours. You don't recall when exactly he left - so you can't really tell if it's been a couple hours or several. All you know is you feel wrong laying in your bedroll without him. There is an emptiness that could only be filled by him.

You were so tired - you didn't need him to be there to sleep. You could sleep now. And tomorrow you could ask him to lay with you until you fell asleep, before he goes hunting. But tomorrow was so far away. You wanted him beside you now.

"Still awake, darling?" Had you been more lucid, his voice would have startled you. He'd have laughed and remarked on your lackluster performance as a lookout. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."

You hummed noncommittally, rolling over toward the sound of his voice. He was kneeling by your bedroll. It was extremely reminiscent of the time he tried to sneak a bite. Now you freely allowed him a drink whenever he wanted it. "S'waiting for you," you murmur. He almost can't make out the words.

"Why is that?" he asks softly. His voice is so nice... His hand brushes through your hair. "Why did you stay up, my dear?"

"Lay with me?" It's almost a whimper. A plea.

He huffs a laugh. "You stayed up for a cuddle?"

You nod, leaning into his fingers as they gently detangle knots and massage your scalp. "Please?"

He doesn't say anything for a moment. He watches you force your eyes open repeatedly, trying to keep them trained on his face even as exhaustion blurred his features into a pale blob. Every time he runs his fingers from the crown of your head to the nape of your neck, they fall shut just a little longer. When he's quiet for too long, lost in studying your face, you make a sort of whining noise and reach clumsily for him. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

"Calm down, love, I'll stay."

You watch as best you can as he shuffles to lay down beside you. Before he can get fully comfortable, you're pressing your face into his neck and wrapping your arms around him. You don't complain when he continues to shift and get settled in. Once he does, however, he can feel your body fall slack in his arms. Your breath evens out against his neck; your heart slows to a steady thrum.

He presses a kiss to your head. Your hair is greasy, with flecks of dried blood scattered throughout, and you didn't smell too pleasant either. But you were soft and warm, and he couldn't find it in himself to care otherwise.

"Sweet dreams, my love."

[beesonhoneytoast]

“I’m hopeless without you.”

♡ Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader ♡

synopsis: on his day off, mike hears that you were involved in some freak accident at work. he wastes no time in getting dressed and driving to your workplace. however, when he calls you, something bizarre happens. cws: hurt/comfort, established relationship, mike being a narcoleptic mess and a disaster pansexual (?), crying, confusing dreams for reality

~800 words | divider creds @firefly-graphics

Mike runs out into the living room, putting on his shirt as he rushed out of his bedroom.

Abby is lying on her stomach watching cartoons but turns her head at the sound of her big brother shuffling around and panting. “Mike?” She called for him.

“Y/n was involved in an accident. I don’t have time to call anyone to watch you, so get your shoes on. We’re going to find them.” He explained, hopping on one foot as he put his shoes on. He grabbed the keys as Abby slipped her little Mary Janes on. 

The two Schmidts went outside and Abby rushed to the backseat on the passenger side of Mike’s car. 

Mike got the front door of the house locked after a moment (as trying to do anything with trembling hands is understandably very difficult). Mike slammed on the gas after hurriedly backing out of the driveway, and he pulled out his flip-phone, selected your number on it, and put it to his ear. Every time, however, he was sent to voicemail. He left a message every time he was. 

“Y/n, it's me, Mike.” 

“If you're alive, Y/n, please reach out if you can.” 

“Please Y/n, I- I'm hopeless without you.” 

“Okay. The third time wasn't the charm, neither was the fourth. Maybe the fifth time will be the one? I dunno. I have no idea if or when you'll hear this, but... Ever since I've known you, I've felt... So at home. You're the only person I know who seems to care about me, and- I… I can't lose you. Please.” Mike said into the phone.

“Mike?” Your voice came from the receiver, laughing slightly.

Mike’s heart nearly leaped out of his ribcage. “Y/N?!” He shouted. He was so alarmed because your voice sounded perfectly okay. “This- isn't some sort of prank, right?” He whispered in denial. 

Your airy chuckles came crackling over the phone. “Mike, I'm okay. I'm at work. I just went on break and saw you were sending me like, three or four voicemails. Is everything okay?” You asked him seriously now.

Mike pulled over on the side of the street and teared up in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair after putting the car in Park. 

Abby was very confused by this entire situation. She was looking out the windows with her brows scrunched. “What's going on, Mike?” She asked. 

“Ah, I hear a certain little girl is there with you?” You teased. 

“Yeah, uh…” Mike mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen, I- I have no idea what happened. I just heard you were in danger and I panicked and didn't think things through and-” 

“Oh, Mike. I'm coming over to you. Are you out of the house already?” You asked.

“I'm… right next to your work building, actually.” Mike chuckled breathily. 

“Ah, I see. I'll be right out, okay?” You told him. 

“M’kay.” He muttered, sniffling slightly, causing you to frown. 

“I’ll see you outside.” You said before hanging up. 

Mike pulled into a parking spot in front of your workplace and you walked right out the front door and trotted towards his car. He couldn't believe it. 

There you were, perfectly fine and alive. You got in on the passenger side of the car. “Hi, Mike.” You greeted him softly. 

And just like that, the man crumbled, and tears spilled. He hid his face in his hands and his shoulders shook with each sob. 

“Oh, come here, buddy.” You cooed, unbuckling his seatbelt and hugging him over the console between the both of your seats. You pet his messy hair softly. Clearly, he had been in a rush to get here to you, for he didn't have the time to brush his hair and get himself tidy. “It's okay. I'm here, I'm okay, I'm alive.” You whispered reassuringly, holding him to your chest as best as you could in this awkward setting of the front seats in his car. 

Eventually, you had all gotten home and you made dinner, as you felt obligated to, considering you unintentionally scared Mike that day. 

Once Abby was sent to bed, Mike revealed that he had a dream that you had gotten into an accident at work, and to him, it felt so real that he believed it was reality. 

“I’m so sorry that happened, baby. Dreams are so weird.” You told him, hugging him for the nth time that night. 

Mike had a special little spot under your chin and on your collarbone where he could just bury his face into. He whimpered softly, holding your shirt in his balled fists. 

You kissed his forehead softly as he relaxed in your arms, moving his head down so it was now in your lap, resting against your thighs and using them for pillows. You played with his hair and hummed softly, the quiet sound of your singing gently lulling him to sleep, and soon you found yourself joining Mike in the realm of dreams.

>> end.

story written by @beesonhoneytoast. characters belong to five nights at freddy’s © 2014