#Someone check on herb

[holyblanchett]

I'm just thinking about the poor residents of Westview. They survived Wandavision only to have Agatha and Rio tearing the neighborhood up again after breaking up for the millionth time three years later. They just can't catch a break.

[organchordsandlightning]

Stardew Valley: checking things off my to do list (affectionate)

Pathologic: checking things off my to do list (derogatory)

[joonie-beanie]

Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]

Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k

Sigewinne is evil.

You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)

It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.

You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.

Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.

…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.

“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”

Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—

“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”

And you’d responded with—

“Errand girl.”

“What?”

“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”

—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.

“Hmm. Very convincing.”

The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.

So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.

Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.

Safe to say, the two of you get along.

…which Sigewinne notices.

You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.

The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.

However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.

Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.

“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.

“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”

Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.

The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.

But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.

“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.

“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.

“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”

You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.

“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.

“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”

Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.

“What?”

She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.

“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”

Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.

Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.

“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”

Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”

You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.

Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.

“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.

“Of course!”

“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.

You nod.

“I see.”

“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”

She cutely huffs.

“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”

“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”

“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.

“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”

You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.

“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne. 

“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”

The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair. 

“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—

“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”

“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.

“Hmm…”

He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting. 

Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.

“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.

“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”

“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”

You shake your head.

“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”

Sigewinne cutely laughs. 

“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”

Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.

“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”

“Good! I want both of you to drink up.” 

Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?

“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.

Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.

You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today? 

You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.

“Oh! Y/N!” 

Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.

“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”

“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.

His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.

“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.

“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.

Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.

“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”

You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.

There’s sweat beading on his brow.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”

You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.

Your tummy starts to ache.

“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”

Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face. 

“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”

You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing. 

What’s this about doctor’s orders?

You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.

His pants feel too tight.

“Sigewinne, you did not—”

There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing. 

He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.

“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…

“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”

She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.

“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”

“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.

“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”

Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor. 

Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…

So, she decides to cut to the chase.

Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.

“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”

“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.

“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”

“Sigewinne—” 

Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.

Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.

“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.

“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”

With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.

A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.

"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."

You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.

You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.

"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."

Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.

"Have I been acting like a hardass?"

"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…

"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."

"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.

"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"

"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."

"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.

However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .

So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.

"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"

"Ah, you caught that."

He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.

"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."

"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"

"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight. 

"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"

Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth. 

"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."

You pout.

"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"

"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."

Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.

You sigh.

"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"

You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.

"And?"

You take a deep breath.

"That you're a cute puppy."

He blinks in shock.

"...excuse me?"

Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.

"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."

For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs. 

Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak. 

With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.

He coughs, pulling himself back together.

"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."

You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.

The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.

"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."

You swallow, anticipating his next words.

"Would you be…interested in having sex?"

Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.

"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded. 

"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"

"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head. 

"We are."

In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.

Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.

You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.

You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another. 

Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.

“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.

“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.

“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”

Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.

When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.

“Wh—”

Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.

“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.

“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.

“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.

“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”

Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.

Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.

“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”

His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue. 

“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.

And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.

So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.

…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.

Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.

No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.

Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.

The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.

Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…

“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.

“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light. 

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”

You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.

However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.

With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.

Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.

Shit, he thinks. 

His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.

There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—

“Let’s get you right side up.”

—and the world spins again.

Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.

You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.

You glance down at his lap.

“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”

“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”

Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.

“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.

“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”

His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.

It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.

“Here we are.”

Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots. 

By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.

His lips twitch into a little smile.

“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”

Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.

“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”

Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.

In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.

“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…” 

He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt. 

“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.

“Why? Because you like it too much?”

He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them. 

Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.

“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…” 

His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.

“...what say we continue like this, hm?”

Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy. 

His icy eyes catch yours.

“Any objection?”

“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets. 

Wriothesley nods—

“Good.”

—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.

Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.

His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.

It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.

Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him. 

And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.

“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.

Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.

“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—

Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!

“Fuck! ” 

You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.

The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.

…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.

You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.

Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you. 

The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.

“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.

His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.

Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…

Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.

Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.

So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.

The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.

“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”

Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.

Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.

“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin. 

“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”

You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.

Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.

He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.

Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.

To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.

“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.

Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.

“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.

You can’t take it anymore.

Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.

He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy. 

His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.

It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.

The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.

He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.

After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.

…only to realize that you’re laughing.

“...puppy…”

He props himself up, glancing at you.

“What?”

“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”

You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.

“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”

His hand rubs against your waist.

“...right?”

Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.

“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”

Wriothesley chuckles.

“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”

“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.

“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.

“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”

Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.

The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.

For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath. 

…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.

“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”

“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”

You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.

“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”

“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.

“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”

His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?

“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”

The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.

“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”

“Sounds good.”

The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle. 

Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.

“So, I’ll…see you later?”

His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.

“You’ll see me later,” you promise. 

With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.

Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.

To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.

…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.

With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.

When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.

“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”

Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.

“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”

“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.

As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.

“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”

Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.

“...maybe.”

Sigewinne smiles. 

That’s good enough for her.

[A Dragon's Constitution] ->

[ghosts-and-glory]

Is Shamura training martial arts after being taken into Lamb's cult? If they enjoyed complexity and bloodshed of war than it'd be probably dissapointing for them if they had to... drop it all

Full under the cut because this turned out really long

Upon joining the cult Shamura was a shell of their former self. They join the cult dissenting, the long term effects of the crown still clawing at the edges of their mind, but after a few days they’re mortal, just themself. Without the crown to hold them together they suffer like their injury was yesterday.

The Lamb has the doctor, Puar, perform their usual tests on them. Shamura is hardly there. They don’t know their own name, can hardly speak, can’t stand or track movement.

There was no wisdom in their slurred words. No power in the way their hands shook.

The outlook is bad.

The Lamb doesn’t really want to help them, after everything, why should they. Shamura who had The Lamb’s entire race and family killed, who killed them aswell and countless of their followers. It would cost them so much, to try and help someone who spent so long just trying to destroy them and everything they had. The time, energy, resources it would cost and they didn’t even know if they could get better.

Deciding it wasn’t worth it was one thing, but getting the other ex bishops to understand was a whole other, even the doctor disagreed with them.

Dr Puar took on being their primary caregiver. They’d been a doctor for the past hundred years and seen concussions and dementia but nothing nearly as severe as this. They wanted to help Shamura but didn’t know how.

It wasn’t until Narinder joined the cult that The Lamb saw any reason to help Shamura. But there was something wrong with him and Shamura knew something, they just had to get to it.

Kallamar was the ex bishop Puar wanted the help from the most. He was scared of the lamb and red crown but he loved Shamura more.

The Lamb took Puar and Kallamar to the ruins of the temples in Anchordeep and Silk Cradle. They spent days digging through the decimated remains of the libraries for something, anything on this type of injury.

It seemed that they where looking down possible years of intense recovery. Needed herbs and medicines that may no longer exist, techniques Puar had never heard of. But they would try.

Puar took careful and detailed notes. Timed Shamura’s responses, wrote down everything they said, tracked eating, drinking, sleeping and every symptom they displayed. Improvements where slow and sometimes nonexistent at first. They took full minutes to respond and only in single words, barley moved, couldn’t feed themselves and suffered constant migraines.

The one thing that seemed to help them the most was their siblings. They didn’t remember them most days but every time one of they came to check in it raised their spirits. One of their faces was the only thing they could focus on sometimes.

Kallamar insisted he wasn’t a doctor but still worked around the infirmary, helping Shamura was the only thing he’d do without complaining. Heket spent hours sitting in silence with them, brought them food and flowers and changed their bandages. Leshy was the only thing that could get them to smile and they where the only person he would ever lower his voice for, he told them stories even though they hardly listened.

Improvements brought new challenges. They got better at speaking full sentences and following conversations but it revealed how fractured their memory was. Forgetting names, places and important events, how often they forgot where they where, they asked the same questions over and over again.

They complained of seeing and hearing things, phantom pains with seemingly no rhyme or reason. The sun hurt their eyes, rain gave them headaches, always sleeping but always tired. They would suddenly backslide constantly. One day could walk with minimal help and the next, couldn’t even hold a pen in their hand. Have a full conversation one day and hardly spit out their name tomorrow.

Until the day Puar looked Shamura in the eye and for once they saw him. Didn’t look past them with their blank stare but looked at them. They would ask to sit outside at night in the fresh air. They seemed to know now who they are, what they where, what they lost. A tinge of grief in their words.

Improvements brought frustration. On days they remembered who they where they were overcome with a mix of anger, guilt and despair. They where a god. They had bore down on armies, killed men with a twitch of a finger, brought other gods to their knees, and now they could hardly bring a cup to their mouth.

Emotionally, their siblings said they’d never seen them like this before. Before Shamura could be frustrated but their temper was cold and quiet. Now they wore a short fuse and suffered constant mood swings. It angered them that they couldn’t read, that their hands were numb, that they couldn’t walk without a cane, couldn’t go out in the sun, couldn’t string a full sentence together, couldn’t recognize their siblings faces, couldn’t feed themselves, couldn’t sleep without drugs, everything they lacked and lost wore them down.

Regardless, they where unusually steadfast. They would always pick back up. If they got frustrated they would try again in a few days. They tried anything Puar asked of them, anything for the smallest iota of improvement.

The outlook was better.

—————

This got out of control and took me like three days between the art and write up. I got really excited when I saw this ask cause the answer is so devastating. If I was taking Narinder’s trauma seriously I’m not gonna just ignore Shamura’s traumatic brain injury.

As a side note, I’m very unsure how to write the medical stuff, my guess is that cotl is based around 1300’s-1700’s but that’s a wide net to cast. My excuse for the stronger understanding of medicine and trauma is magic.

[neuvilette-tea-party]

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ Mon petit coeur ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Steb x F!reader

Words : 7679

You borrow a shirt from your lover for a lazy morning, unaware of the turmoil it will create in your boyfriend's heart and loins.

Tags: established relationship, heavy making out, Steb is selectively non-verbal, first time together, Cunni, Steb is pussy drunk, P in V, creampie, knot, mating press, wet humping, slight breeding kink, Steb has carnivorous tendencies

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

You yawn, making your spine pop. Next to you, Steb’s spot is cold already. You smile, imagining him biting down a toast completely hypnotized by one of his chess tactics books. 

You throw the covers off your body and rummage through your closet to put a thing on. It’s Sunday, you don’t work, have nothing planned, and don’t feel like dressing up. You let your gaze travel and end up on Steb’s white shirt on the back of the chair. You take and detail it, you could think it is a clean shirt with how neat it is, but he wore it yesterday. You press it against your nose and inhale his scent deep into your lungs. 

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... Delicious. 

Smells like love. 

You take off your pajamas and put his shirt on, leaving you in a simple white shirt too big for you and your panties. It’s not like you have to impress someone today. 

You inhale his smell again with delight, sighing satisfied, and lazily go down the stairs, yawning. You can hear Steb in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. 

He is so nice, you’re so lucky to have him, you think.

You enter the dining room which is more of a mix of a kitchenette, a dining area, and a living room. You discover Steb busy at the stove, cooking some salmons. He’s wearing a tight black turtleneck and dress pants, clearly more worried about his general appearance than you in the morning. 

You approach on your tip toes and surprise him with a big hug, making him gasp in surprise as you wrap your hands around his large chest. 

“Hello, handsome!” You greet, kissing his neck, pulling on the collar, making his fins tremble as he deeply exhales at the caress of your lips, “Thank you for breakfast” 

You part from him and he turns to you with a smile, only to make a double take with a shocked expression.

 “What?” You ask as he fixes you up and down intently, “I hope you don’t mind the shirt, I didn’t feel like dressing up.” 

He slowly shakes his head, his ears shaking once, visibly under some tension. He turns back to his salmons but just... looks at them.

 You shrug and start to empty the table of all the papers and clutters to make some place to eat. True to your lazy mood, you don’t bother skirting the table to grab everything and just bend over the table to reach the last objects. 

You jump hearing a broken glass sound. You spin your head towards Steb, who was visibly checking you out, observing the now-destroyed spice container on the ground with a discomfited expression. 

“Are you all right Steb?” You immediately ask as he lowers himself to collect the shards. 

You crouch next to him to help and notice his hands trembling slightly as he picks up the glass, visibly distraught. His face scales undulate without stopping while his cheeks are getting rosy. You press your hand to his forehead to take his temperature. 

He’s quite hot. 

“Do you have a fever, handsome? You should have stayed in bed, I would have cooked you something myself!” 

He sighs, nudging his forehead against your palm as he shakes his head in disagreement. 

“You don’t beat the allegations, treasure. Go sit, I’ll take it from here.” You softly order.

You both throw the shards and you resume the cooking, adding some salt and pepper with other spices, opening up the herbs bouquet to add later, and drizzling a stream of lemon juice. You sniff, feeling a burning sensation on your exposed skin, like a heavy gaze on your form. 

You turn your head to see Steb, leaning against the counter right behind you, his hands wrapped around the edges, nails dug into the woods, breathing deeply as his eyes devour your body in this less-than-modest garment. 

“... You’re all right, sweetheart?” You finally break the silence after several seconds. 

He raises his eyes back at you, fogged with fever. He takes a step forward and seizes your hips delicately in his large hands, pressing his tall body against your back, sensually swaying his hips, guiding yours. 

“What’s with you this morning?” You cannot help but giggle, adjusting the sauce. 

For sole response, he lets his deep breathing resonate in your ear, the tip of his fingers sliding just under the shirt to brush the hem of your panties.

Delicately 

Slowly 

He licks the shell of your ear with a grunt that you feel spreading down your very core. Your own breath gets caught in your throat as his fingers pass just the hem of your panties, teasing the sensitive skin of your venus mound. 

Just a brush, just a touch 

Like a secret... 

He kisses your ear before biting the lobe, never ceasing the sway of his hips with yours, a low growl making his chest vibrate. You gulp, feeling your hands trembling over your fish as you try to follow your recipe the best you can. 

Quite hard when Steb is making advances, you realize. 

He never made advances before. 

You always initiated, learning rapidly that he was not so interested in sex that much and liked taking things slow. So slow you never saw each other naked yet... 

He gently tugs on the shirt, begging for attention, letting his fangs graze your ear shell. You turn the stove off and he gently makes you spin in his embrace, blocking you between the stove and his tall body. 

He brushes your nose tips, pressing his forehead to yours, letting his lips hover over your mouth with a sound between a pressed growl and a begging whine. One of his hands snakes its way into your back, under the shirt, eagerly discovering your skin while the other lower down to your ass to caress it. 

He devours your face with bedroom eyes, taunting you with the kiss he holds back from you. You purse your lips and rise on your tip toes to reach his mouth, he meets you mid-way, capturing your lips like a hungry man. 

He presses himself tight against you, towering over you with his full height, you can feel his groin starting to heat up and bulge as he devours your mouth, purring in satisfaction.  

He suddenly grabs your thighs to lift you up, forcing you to circle his hips with your legs with a yelp. He purrs loudly, grabbing the back of your head to press your lips together and not let you escape. His gills open wide to breathe while you’re left completely pantless in that demanding kiss. 

You never saw him like that! So eager and needy, so demanding! So... Desperate. 

Your lips dance together in a sensual embrace, locked together, exploring each other like your lives depend on it. He licks your lips, demanding access, and your tongues meet to hug each other. 

Steb’s tongue is longer than a human’s, swirling yours like a snake, robbing you of your breath so easily... You can say you have never been kissed in such a way before. You feel your legs getting like jello under his ministrations but he holds you firmly to not let you fall. 

He gently carries you out of the kitchenette and you expect him to go up the stairs to enter the bedroom but he puts you down on the dining table and with a large gesture pushes all the papers and clutters you had to put back down on the ground. 

“Steb!” You protest! 

That’s going to be a pain to tidy everything! 

But Steb is clearly in no state to care about such details, he captures your lips back with a groan, gently forcing you to lay down on the table. He lets his body weight rest on yours as your mouths discover each other. 

His hands brush your side to gently pull on the hem of the shirt, revealing your stomach to his eyes, he immediately lowers himself to kiss your tummy, pinching the flesh of your side with a smile as you yap. He takes a big lap at your stomach with his long tongue before going higher, revealing your breast to his ocean eyes. 

He stops, admiring what he has in front of him, his scales undulating like a dance. Your nipples perk up in the cold and he immediately makes them roll with his thumbs tenderly. He makes it slow and gentle, soft circle with the pad of his thumbs, making you whine. 

He takes them between his fingers delicately to brush them, titillating your nervous buds with delight while you whine. At some point, he cannot take it anymore and lowers himself to take one in his mouth, thoroughly licking it.

 “Fuck... Steb!” You complain in a pitiful gasp. He hums in response, focused on the candy in his mouth. You feel his tongue twirling your nipple easily, lathering it with his drool while he kneads your other boob with his large hand. He suckles your tit thoroughly with an appreciative purr, letting his saliva roll down the hill of your boob.  

He never breaks eye contact, his deep blue gaze set on yours, commanding your attention.

He gives a peck to that boob and kisses his way to the other, taking it between his teeth and gently biting it down, making you start. He chuckles before teasing it like he did the other, giving it the same amount of love and attention. He sucks down hard, hollowing his cheeks as he does it. 

Once satisfied he stands back up, towering over your trembling, lying form, observing his work with... delight. His blue eyes seem to shine as the light of the room over his head gives him an angelic halo. One of his hand come dancing on your breast, barely brushing the skin before snaking down, grazing your stomach with delicate intentions until it reaches your panties. 

He hooks the hem and lets it slap your skin, tilting his head at your whines and jumping. You gulp, not used to being scrutinized this way, especially half naked, but his gaze travels your skin with absolute focus, memorizing any nook and crannies of your body. 

His finger traces your panties until you suddenly squirm under his touch, telling him he located your clit. He tilts his head at you again, circling the vicinity of your pearl, never touching it directly, teasing you to no end. 

You gasp and gulp, digging your nails in the wood of the table as he toys with you with his infuriatingly beautiful face. He keeps his gaze on yours, opening your thighs wider slowly.  

His eyes grow larger and his ears shake with vivid interest when he flicks your clit out of nowhere, earning an ungodly moan from you. He brushes his fingers in his luscious hair as he lowers himself down between your legs. 

He looks at you like he dared you to stop him, taking deep breaths in anticipation, parting your legs. He nudges the side of his face against your inner thigh, letting his cheek fins tickle your thin skin, making your leg jolt instantly. 

“Ah!... I...” You let out, raising a hand with hesitation, “I never...” 

He blinks at you with his third eyelid, silently inviting you to finish your sentence, his hand wrapped around your thigh meat. 

“I’ve never done that...” You admit, embarrassed. 

His gaze lowers like he is thinking and for a second you think he’s about to lose all interest and stop everything. But instead, he tightens his grip on your thighs and leaves a soft, infinitely reverent kiss on your inner thigh, closing his eyes to savor the instant. He nibbles on the skin fondly, leaving several lovebites all over your thighs with the application of a devotee praying. 

You roll your hands in fists with short breaths under his ministrations. You yelp when he purposefully bats his cheek fins to tease your skin again. He replaces himself between your thighs and presses his lips on your clothed pussy, where he found your pearl and loudly kisses it. You exhale, on edge while he peppers kisses all over your clothed pussy before taking a big lap, wetting the fabric. 

Sharp blue eyes deep into your febrile gaze. 

He purrs loudly, satisfied with his new position between your thighs before gently pushing your panties aside and revealing your pussy for the first time to his eyes. 

You cannot take it anymore and close your eyes as you feel the tip of his fingers caressing your slit so gently, humming in appreciation at his new toy. He details your little cunny with great focus, tracing its line tenderly, testing your reaction to this or this sweet pressure. 

He gulps, his gills wide open with excitation. That’s a beautiful sight... Do you taste sweet or salty? Savory for sure, he knows it deep down in his guts. He licks his lips to prepare them as a low growl escapes his eager mouth. 

He wants to taste you... So badly. 

You gasp feeling him part your fold with his fingers and blow air on your hidden flesh, playing with your nerves.

“Mon petit coeur...” You hear his too-rare voice rise in the living room full of tension, “Look into my eyes, mon amour...” 

You wince, gritting your teeth. You don’t want to look at him, you would die of shame and embarrassment on the spot! But he only speaks for grave matters, fighting the physical pain when he uses his voice. 

Signifying you that it really, really matters to him. 

You gulp and reopen your eyes, lowering them to his. You cannot find anything else but love, tenderness, and adoration in his orbs which makes you slightly tremble.  

Keeping eye contact he lowers his mouth just above your exposed pussy, letting his breath brush your sensitive flesh, like a promise. 

That everything is going to be all right. 

And he takes a long slow lap at your cunt, tracing your entire slit with the flat of his long tongue. You immediately melt and whine, with a shudder. 

This is such a foreign sensation... So...So... 

He doesn’t lose a second and does it again, his pupils wide open, all the fins of his body trembling. He licks your pussy thoroughly like he’s eating his favorite dish. His purr perks up each time his wet appendage touches your folds, tasting your flesh in an entirely new fashion. 

An addictive new fashion he realizes... 

His breath quickens as he keeps licking, coating your folds with his saliva enthusiastically. His expression leaves no doubt about his mood, his amusement and pleasure illuminating his face as he savors you like ambrosia. 

He dives his nose into your pubes to deeply inhale your sexual musk and his ears shake irrepressibly as he lets out a gasp, breathless, eyes closed shut. 

You do not have time to worry if it is a good sign or not he immediately resumes the lapping, digging his fingers in the flesh of your thighs. He trails your slit with the tip of his tongue several times before taking another big lick, opening his mouth wide like he is about to devour you. 

You cannot catch your breath under all of those attentions, all those new sensations swarm you without mercy, and you feel your blood beat inside your cunny. 

He leaves a big kiss on your pussylips and focuses slightly higher, on your little clit. He flicks it once with the tip earning a dramatic tremor coursing your entire body, much to his pleasure. He does it again, titillating your small pearl with glee, sending waves of raw pleasure into your pussy. He flicks it, drums it, and whips it with abandon, leaving you no time to catch your breath. 

You cry out as you feel his purr making his whole tongue vibrate against your sensitive pearl, bringing you to your knees. 

How...? 

How does he do that? 

It feels even better than with a toy with the wet, soft sensations and his warm member. He licks it up and down like he’s savoring an ice cream and with the same enthusiasm. You are lying on the solid table but feel yourself falling as his attentions set your nerve endings on absolute fire you are convinced actual lava was poured into your veins.  

He sucks it hard, making it roll between his lips, twisting it so gently as he crosses it with his tongue. He lets out a long and deep guttural moan of raw satisfaction escape him, getting high off of your cunny. 

He takes great joy in feeling your delicious pearl puffing up and swelling up under his gentle care, he wants nothing more but for you to enjoy yourself thoroughly between his large hands. 

He will devote himself to the craft and perfect his techniques until you break down crying, begging for him to stop giving you so much, that you are about to break into a million pieces under such tension and bliss. 

That promise to be so fun, he feels his heart jolt at that prospect!

Each of his tongue movements sends a shiver into your very core and you can feel your inner muscles gorging themself with blood, getting all fluffy as your slick starts to drip out of you. Stebs notices immediately and loses no time tasting it too, lapping you clean. 

His powerful muscles roll dangerously under his skin, like a predator ready to jump but he never stops, keeping your clit in his mouth like a lollipop that he savors like a child, letting you hear his grunts and moans of pleasure. 

Steb was always a caregiver to you, but make no mistake, this one is as much for himself as it is for you. He eats you out because he ardently craves it, like a fish needs water to breathe he feels like he now needs to be between your thighs forever. 

You? You’re at the end of your rope. These new touches are just... Too much! 

This is too much...  

The assaults of pleasure are too powerful and you try to push his head away gently, for just a second... 

His response is immediate. 

He lets you hear the most pissed-off growl you ever heard from him, looking at you with the angriest face you’ve ever seen him. 

You will not take that away from him! Not now that he sank his fangs into it. 

You round up your eyes in full surprise and a bit of apprehension. 

Realizing his reaction, he immediately softens his expression and reverently kisses your cunt as a sorry gesture while he detaches your hand from his head to intertwine your fingers together, locking you with him for that intense experience. 

He nibbles your clit that swoll up, palpitating hard and he can feel it vibrate against his tongue in tandem. He kisses it several times as he feels your essence dripping on his jaw to the ground. 

What a waste, he thinks to himself. 

It is also ruining his distinguish turtleneck but that is such a small price to pay to be between your luscious thighs. 

He opens your pussylips again with a purr and presses the tip of his tongue against your entrance, letting it stretch the ring of your flesh as he pushes it inside. You immediately tense feeling the flexible wet member invading your most secret place, stretching your inner muscles with surprising ease. 

You feel it wave and undulate to push deeper, dancing like a real succubus, leaving no surface of your pussy untouched and uncared for. You hear him drinking your slick with large gulps and reveling mewls. You feel it twirl inside for a moment, grazing and caressing all of your deepest sweet spots, pushing you to the end of your sanity until it gently retracts to focus on your G spot. 

You gasp, digging your nails into the fabric of the white shirt and the flesh of Steb’s hand as he waves his textured tongue against your sensitive spot, you feel his tip grazing and circling it in a maddening dance leaving you pantless and sweaty on your dining table. Your thighs’ muscles immediately contract as you feel your wetness worsening, dripping all over your Vastaya’s jaw.  

Your legs instinctively try to close to refuse him access and stop the attacks of pleasure on your exposed flesh, but he holds your thighs firmly open, lecherously drinking like an animal. 

He twists his tongue into different angles, testing all your reactions, studying each and every tremor shaking your helpless body in his embrace, taking thorough mental notes for future times when lust seizes him once more.

Oh how he adores how defenseless you are right now, no filters, no masks, and pure, raw reactions, the truth shining on your blissful expressions as he toys with you for both of your pleasure. 

He whines, feeling parched and desperate against your swollen pussylips, this is a lot to take in but not yet enough for him, he is ravenous and your supple flesh is all for him to take and devour.  

The line between lust and bloodlust is so thin and he had to temper your advances and hopes to not risk wounding you in his fury. He silently thanks the Enforcer order who demanded him to file his sharp teeth down to human teeth. He felt dispossessed for a long time, but right now he doesn’t know if he would have had the self-control to not bite into your flesh like the carnivorous Vastaya that he is. 

But he waited for so long... And you taste just so good, he is getting absolutely mad, wondering what your blood tastes like. He immediately mentally slaps himself, refocusing on your shivering body, all for him to toy with and take care of. 

He circles your marvelous spot and starts to furiously lick it with his tip. You gasp, biting down your finger to silence yourself, throwing your head hard against the table as your back arches in an impressive fashion hypnotizing him completely. 

Such an honest body you have, a delight to play with and taste all to his heart’s content. He curves his tongue in a new angle and admires how your body undulates once again, like magic. 

Magic right at the tip of his long flexible tongue.

He quite likes that. 

“Steb! F-fuck...!” You shout as he feels your slick overflowing out of you, rolling down your thighs and his jaw, beading on his gills wide open to not stop for a second to breathe! 

He devours you like a hungry beast, too impatient to carry you to completion to wait any longer! He wants you squirting in his mouth right this instant! 

And you will give it to him or he’ll be damned! 

In a flash of lucidity, he realizes he is absolutely and irrevocably pussy drunk. His own body is absolutely shaking like he got addicted to drugs, leaving him disoriented and on autopilot.

Only his sexual instincts are at the command to guide him at this moment, all reason and common sense just abandoned him when he took his first lick at your pussy. 

Damning him like a cursed soul. 

But he would lie if it did not taste marvelous. To become a sinner between your thighs was the best decision of his life and he feels more blessed than a devotee praying to their idols. Guess he just needs to remain on his knees from now on. 

Praying between your luscious spasming thighs. 

He slightly winces as he feels your nails deep in his hand’s skin as he brushes your tender spot with sensual fury, but how could he stop when you taste this good, when he’s the one guiding you to orgasm...? 

He cannot just stops like that without you cumming! That’s unthinkable! 

He releases your thigh to palp his warm bulge under the table for a bit of relief. He is so tense it is painful, but your taste combined with your desperate mewls and moans are just so exciting and alluring, all his blood flew south to gorge his member full and his pants feel terribly constricted and uncomfortable. 

Your free thighs try once more to close down, only managing to cage his head against your pussy, suffocating him against your wetness. You can feel his gills and cheek scales fluttering. Who cares really? If he dies between your thighs, giving you pleasure, he will die happily. 

What better death than satisfying son petit coeur?  

And suddenly 

The tension snap.

You feel a tight scorching hot knot rupture in your cunny like you flipped a switch and all your muscles contract hard, your back arching up high as your toes curl, blinding firelights under your closed eyelids. You cannot refrain from the scream of Steb’s name in your small house, your little pussy clenching hard against his long tongue as you squirt violently in his mouth. 

And you fall. 

Whatever was holding you together snaps too and your entire body collapses against the hard wood of the table, leaving you blind and deaf for several full seconds. Your chest rises up and down rapidly to take as much air as possible, while sweat rolls on your skin between the goosebumps.

You are exhausted beyond measure, feeling the waves of your orgasm slowly subsiding, allowing you to assess your surroundings at last.

Steb leaves several gentle kisses on your quivering pussy with a loud purr and rises back on his feet, towering over your shaking form once more. He pants heavily, ocean eyes crazy with fever and dark energies, your slick beading off his perfect jaw to soil his nice turtleneck that he adores. 

That is so far away from his mind right now, if only you knew. 

He seizes the hem of his turtleneck and gets rid of it, throwing it carelessly in the corner of the room to be forgotten, leaving him bare-chested, revealing his own sweaty body, his large pec and well-defined abs glistening under the crude light of your dining room.

You look at him through half-closed eyelids, still in some sort of shock as his powerful muscles dance and roll under his magnificent green skin.

You let your head fall down, trying to make sense of that entire situation. 

Man, it was just a shirt... 

You quake and reopen your eyes as you hear the sound of a belt opening. Steb makes quick work of it and gets rid of his dress pants to reveal his constricted boxer, leaving little to the imagination when his cock is hard and tense under the fabric. 

You gulp at the bulge.

He licks his lips clean with a hiss and lowers down his grey boxers to reveal his cock to your eyes for the first time. 

Your throat dries up as your eyes round up, apprehensive. 

He has been... generously endowed by Mother Nature. She decided to craft a champion and chose him.

 He roughly fists his entire length, hungry eyes on your exposed naked body, a low growl escaping his gritted teeth before he seizes your hips with his two hands and drags you until your hips collide, making you yap. 

He plays a bit with his tip before lathering his impressive shaft with his precum, titillating his ridges all over his shaft while his other hand returns to caress your clit with his thumb making you cry out, overstimulated and exhausted. 

He aligns himself and lets his member hit your pussy as you whine at how warm and hard it is. He does it several times, his ears spasming, until he starts a back-and-forth movement, teasing his cock by caressing it between your folds, lathering it with your slick. He releases your clit to seize your hips with both of his hands, letting his ridged member tease your pearl.

 He huffs before throwing his head backward at the sensation of your two bodies finally carnally meeting each other.

It took so long but it has been worth it... He doesn’t regret one second letting the tension rise and frustrating the both of you if this is the final reward. 

You yelp and mewl as his shaft brushes your oversensitive pussy mercilessly, grazing your clit still under the spell of your former orgasm, swollen and palpitating. 

He slicks his disheveled hair back with a hand, his glistening muscles contracting under his skin as light dances on his exposed flesh, carving him like a god. You gawk at that immaculate sight.

He is well-made on all fronts! 

He finally stops and trails your soaked slit from bottom to up with the pad of his finger and sticks his tongue out to wipe it off, lowering himself with his tongue out to capture your lips, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He languorously kisses you, his tongue hugging your smaller one, robbing you of your air, feeling your spriting heart through his own skin, putting him on edge.

You bite down his tongue when you feel his tip poking your entrance, gently probing your pulsating pussy to get it used to his circumference until you feel him push past your tight ring of flesh, entering you for the very first time.

You throw your head backward at his invasion, giving him the opportunity to attack your neck with joy. You feel his mouth sucking your thin flesh, leaving a tight collar or lovebites all around your throat. 

You tremble, feeling his cock stretching your inner muscles, all his ridges making you cry when they brush past your G spot. This is your first time with a non-human and you did not expect all of that. You are not even sure your vagina is meant to accommodate this kind of member, but Steb seems eager to discover it.

Your mouth opens in a perfect ‘O’ as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper, making you discover depths you did not even know you had, his hands kneading your sides, digging his nails into your soft flesh. He rolls his shoulders several times with a gasped growl as he feels your tightness strangling his cock for the very first time.

It feels just so good to have you all around him... 

It feels so right. 

This long-desired and cherished moment of your two bodies finally making one... 

He selfishly dreamt of it for so long while refusing you, keeping his own dark urges on a leash.

He exhales deeply when your hips meet, his shaft finally fully inside your warmth, weighting down your core. He bites his lower lips discovering the bulge your two bodies created with a whined breath. 

This is just so hot.

He cannot help but caress the bulge with the tip of his long fingers, pressing it down with his palm to squeeze his member, teasing himself through your welcoming flesh.

 “Oh, mon petit coeur...” He manages to breathe despite the pain of talking.

 If only he could drown you under pet names and love declarations like he wishes he could! You would tear off your ears of exasperation. 

He cannot help but snigger. 

He fondly draws circles with his thumbs on your hips, anything to ease your predicament, begging for your foggy gaze on him, to help maintain his composure and not just crumble between your luscious thighs like an impotent.

But your body is just so much for him to take and experience, that delicious pressure all around his member, wet and warm, welcoming and debauched. So much pleasure courses his body right now like electroshocks.

He slowly slips out of your dripping sex until just the tip remains and pushes back in as gently as possible to not upset you. He feels you stretching all around him, working hard to accommodate his length and girth, welcoming him in your warmth and softness. 

Like a gentle indulgence... 

You close your eyes under the pressure, your entire body tense like a bowstring and threatening to snap once more. Steb just stuffs you so full, like a decadent cream puff, opening your secret temple wide to let his shaft inside. 

And now you are supposed to take him moving and survive?

You choke as he starts rolling his hips, installing a gentle back and forth movement, leaving and entering your tight canal, your former orgasm helping prodigiously as his cocks slips in and out easily with your abundant slick that you still feel dripping along your thighs.

And now Steb’s thighs too, you imagine. 

You grit your teeth as he splits you in two with such ease.

You feel him moving inside, making gentle love to your exhausted body even if his fingers are painfully deep into your hips. The pace is languid and loving. You can feel his impatience bubbling under his scaled skin, but he prefers going slowly to appreciate. 

To savor. 

Each. Second. of that experience. 

You bob up and down as he grunts and purrs, burying himself up to the hilt into your warmth. He gasps and growls and moans and mewls, vocalizing his pleasure out loud without any shame, letting you know what a delight your body is to him. 

Oh how he wishes he could remain buried inside of your sweet, sweet pussy... 

It feels like heaven, like he is at his true place at last.

Maybe he could cum inside and...  

Breed you 

Son petit coeur, all round with his baby... 

All his muscles violently spasm at that idea! 

He has just the tool for that...

You try to speak but only let escape an incoherent string of syllables getting cut each time he pushes his entire member back in. You grit your teeth as all your muscles try to welcome him back each time, it gets easier and easier each time but it is not simple for all that! 

You wince in slight discomfort as you try to breathe, and Steb’s immediately notice. One of his hands releases its tight grip over your waist to travel all the way back to your little clit he tenderly caresses and brushes again, easing and helping your tense muscles to relax all around him. 

Your sigh of relief is cut short by another moan of pleasure as he undulates his hips like a pro. You bite back down your finger as your nails claw the wood of the shaking table under you, following the rhythm of Steb’s gentle thrusts. 

He bites his lower lips to blood, admiring how your little cunt swallows him whole greedily like never before. He can already admire a creamy ‘O’ at his base making him lose it a little more and accelerates his thrusts.

He tries hard to keep himself in check, but you’re bringing him to his knees, leaving him pantless and disoriented. Each time your little cunt clenches around his cock the entire room spins around him, forcing him to hold onto you to remain sane and grounded.

Soon his rutting is deep and fast, punching all air out of your lungs with force. Gone is the sensual and tender lovemaking, he is plunging his cock deep, impaling you on his length while he hisses and rasps. His fingers keep grabbing your hips and waist, leaving bruises flourishing on your contused skin, while the other furiously loves your clit.

But he can’t help himself, what if you found a way to escape his grip? He holds onto you like the remnant of his sanity, if he slips out right now his mind will shatter into millions of pieces. 

He cannot let go. 

That would kill him on the spot. 

He greets his teeth, feeling his orgasm approaching rapidly. He must hold on still! You’ve not yet cum and it is capital for the breeding! 

You spoke of him of a little one with sparkles in your gorgeous eyes, but each time he tempered your daring advances, the light died little by little. 

He cannot deny you anymore,

he wants it,

he craves it,

he needs it... 

“Steb...! Steb...!” You gurgle between his ravaging thrusts.

You have no idea what you are trying to say to him, you feel your brain melt with every delicious rock of his hips against yours. 

But while he might become crazy, he isn’t deaf and responds to your cry for help. He grabs your two legs and throws them on his shoulders, grabs your hips firmly, and adroitly jumps with you onto the table, tilting your hips up, he lays on you, pressing your knees against your breast to reach your desperate mouth to kiss it. 

This position magically opens you up, allowing him to deepen his rut so much he can feel his tip brushing your cervix. He winces, deeply conscious of the delicateness and fragility of that zone of the female body, and tilts his hips to not hit it too hard.

Each one of his movements earns a reaction from you, your limbs tremble and shake at his demand and your pussy clench and squeezes him at his will. He very quickly noted what to do for deeper feelings for the both of you. 

He smiles in the kiss as he notes that you drooled all over your jaw, forgetting yourself under his sensual care. 

In his fury he grabs your two hands to wrap them around his neck, keeping you just a little closer for the comfort of his heart 

His two hands on each side of your head, he digs his claws deep into the wood and hears it crack and complain under your lecherous activity. He feels your hands palping, grabbing, pinching, and searching for what to do in your utter confusion. 

He gives you a nasty thrust and you immediately dig all your nails deep, deep in his shoulder blades, tearing the skin apart, making him roar in the kiss. 

He adores that.

That sudden sharp pain in his flesh keeps him grounded and he wants it again, hoping you will dig deeper, and claw his entire back, giving him scars like you would give him a medal.

Steb demonstrates extraordinary stamina, the result of his Vastaya nature and intensive training as he keeps going without a single sign of fatigue yet while you hold onto him for dear life. 

You try to part from his mouth to just breathe but he doesn’t allow it, clasping them, locking them in a sultry embrace, a raw purr making his entire chest vibrate against your thighs’ skin. You bite down his tongue several times as he plows you down like a jackhammer. When he finally releases your lips a string of saliva connects your two decadent mouths as you take a big breath, instantly getting heady with the significant smell of sex filling the entire room, seeping into every fabric. 

You almost bite off your own tongue as he ravages you, each hip thrust deadly precise. The wet sounds of flesh slapping flesh are getting to your head dangerously. You lower your hazy gaze between your two bodies, admiring how they meet and connect, the significant bulges in your womb as he slips in and out repeatedly. 

What’s that mass at the base of his cock? 

Does he have a ...? 

You cannot finish that thought, his rocking forces you to throw your head backward as Steb licks your cheek, tasting your sweat with delight, and kisses your entire face, your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your eyelids, your chin... Begging for your tenderness in his craze.

 Just a soft touch his way.

One of your hands caresses its way to his face to cup his cheek gently, caressing his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. He instantly melts and nudges in your palm with a jubilant purr, caressing his cheek and kissing your open hand like you held his heart in your grip.

And maybe you do... 

Holding him tight like that, making his soul chant blessed verse in your embrace. You ravished him, body, heart, and soul!

He wants your affection and your rage, your caresses and your bites, pouring fire in his veins as you love him without any mercy. 

He wants everything and its opposite at the same time.

He wants to crush you under his weight until you cry from overstimulation and to submit to your hand, handcuffed to the bed, helpless to your whims, his entire exposed body for you to play with...

Everything in due time. 

You feel him wrap one of his arms under you, hugging you tight, suffocating you in his embrace, holding you close to his febrile heart, his other hand travels between your two bodies to return to your neglected pearl. He lovingly fondles it while giving you devastating hip sways, proving his desire to do good by you, even pushed to a more animalistic state.

Your comfort and pleasure remain at the forefront of his mind no matter how far he’s gone! 

Your little cunny immediately clenches at this added touch, constricting his cock hard between your fluffy walls making him snigger and grunt, trying to keep it together. 

“Steb...!” You cry, big tears rolling down your cheek.

Your pussy shakes and convulses all around his member as he rocks his hips hard, squeezing him so tight he sees stars.

He brushes your nose tips, foreheads pressed together, inhaling each other’s musk to climb higher again. 

You are surrounded by Steb’s inescapable presence, he holds you tight and fills your head with his groans and your nose with his salty musk. His tall and large body looms over yours, shielding you from everything, keeping you stuck under him as he pounds you down. 

The table complains heavily but holds on while he rearranges your guts with abandon.

You gulp and gasp at each thrust as you feel your orgasm approaching like a furious tsunami looming over you, ready to drown you, you feel pleasure waves spreading inside your cunny at each of his movements and his relentless caress on your clit until- 

The tsunami reaches the shore and crashes down, ravaging everything in its wake.

Your breath gets cut and you think your heart stops beating for several seconds under the impact. The entirety of your body contracts violently under the shock, as all your nerve endings are set ablaze with wildfire. Fireworks explode behind your eyelids as deep shockwaves incapacitate all your limbs. Your tight pussy spasms and convulse all around his girthy cock, trying to keep him inside.

Your mouth open to let go of a deep scream that Steb immediately swallows in a languorous kiss, silencing you in the most exquisite manner he could think of. 

Your own orgasm pushes him off the cliff and after four erratic hip jolts, he pushes a final time. 

“What the ...?” You feel the weird mass against your entrance. 

He hisses and pushes a little bit harder, and while you were sure your pussy will be torn apart by that mass, it gently extends all around and swallows it whole, plugging your tight cunt shut.

Steb audibly gasps, fully buried up to the hilt deep inside of you, and unloads his seed deep inside your womb, reveling with delight at the sensation of your cunt milking him dry for all his worth, your cute tummy getting full with his semen.

He pants with a satisfied breathy laugh as he licks your jaw and chin.

He cannot resist the urge to tenderly caress where your womb hides, drawing tender circles as he purrs like a satisfied cat, nudging against your smaller body with delight.

He peppers kisses all around your neck, letting his imagination run wild. Maybe... You’ll get pregnant with his baby today?  

That sounds so wonderful to him! 

A little one to both of you! 

Witnessing you getting rounder and rounder with his child, having to help you with everything, catering to all your needs, taking care of everything for you while you bear his blood and flesh...

 “You... You have a knot?” You finally ask, panting. 

He pours his eyes into yours and nods with a tight smile, hoping really hard you like that quirky part of his anatomy he kept hidden all his life. 

“You know I am not on the pill?” You warn him. 

He knows it. He also smelled and tasted it with his Vastaya receptors on his nose and tongue. Nothing about you escapes him.

“That doesn’t bother you?” You investigate, suspicious.

After all, tales of women being left to fend for themself after the discovery of a pregnancy are nothing new in Piltover and he kept denying you each time until now, that you have all the right to be suspicious. 

But the thought of you pregnant with him... 

He cannot describe the warm joy spreading in his chest at that simple thought. 

A family, after that war that took everything from him, he would have his own family at last. 

With you, son petit coeur... 

What more could he ever ask for? 

That simple thought manages to keep him hard, ready for another round, feeling his cock twitch with real impatience inside of your little pussy. 

He will let you breathe for a moment and then beg you for a rematch. After all, a Vastaya and a human have lower chances of procreation, he needs to give you a lot more to ensure a pregnancy. 

His ears and cheek scales twitch at the thought of tasting you again once pregnant, will your taste change? He cannot wait to try! He will have you for breakfast every day until the delivery and then spend all of his moments with you and your baby.

For now, you will hug each other tight and listen to your heartbeats, like a symphony. 

At peace at last. 

He brushes your nose tips and reverently kisses your lips, pouring all the love of his heart into the fountain of his lips for you to get drunk off of it. 

Son si cher petit coeur... 

☆☆Taglist☆☆

@dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @brandy-and-bane @sp-the-fae-queen @sofiyathelast-blog @aeeliy @sanktastuff @telephoneonawire @daichisito 

[lovelybluebirdie]

What is yours

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: A stroll through the market evokes an unpleasant sensation in Astarion.

Word Count: 3,1k

hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff

[ AO3 ]

The warm rays of the midday sun bathed the markets’ goods in a marvellous light. The place was bustling, a scent of spices lingering in the air and hurried voices brimming. 

If someone had told Astarion that one day he’d be able to move around Baldur’s Gate so freely again, he’d probably huffed merely a dry laugh – and yet here he was, following you through the narrow streets of his city, admiring how much colour the world had to offer.

Of course it was you who had dragged him along for the mundane task to gather some food for your companions back at camp. Astarion couldn't care less to fill up their bellies, as his own appetite was perfectly stilled from your generosity when it came to offer him your blood, but one blink from your doe eyes had been enough to convince him to accompany you.

Well, that, and perhaps that warm feeling that refused to leave his chest when he was with you. 

It was obvious that you loved to stroll around the market, savouring the colourful impressions while taking a break from all the fighting and gore your journey to rid yourself from the tadpoles held for you. 

Astarion had never watched you spending your coin so lightly before. You probably thought it was time to treat yourself once in a while, and who was he to deny you this little pleasure? He had to admit that he actually adored seeing your face light up over the different trinkets you bought, eagerly filling your bags and pouches with your newest additions.

“Let's get some fruit for the others while we’re at it,” you suggested, pointing towards a merchant presenting an inviting range of fresh goods. “Something nutritious seems much needed after we fed mostly on leftovers for the past weeks.”

Your shoulders were loaded with the various goods you had already bought – dyes, herbs, some new toys for Scratch and the owlbear cub and a bunch of flasks to fill with potions.

“As you wish,” Astarion replied, when a display of weapons caught his eye. His last pair of daggers had become rather blunt from the Goblin throats he’d cut, so maybe it was time to treat himself as well, he thought and gently grabbed your wrist.  

“On second thought, why don't you go ahead while I'll have another look around here, my love?” he asked and came to a stop. “I haven't much expertise to add when it comes to your culinary needs, and those daggers look rather appealing.”

“Sounds fine with me, but try not to spend all of our gold at once,” you teased and squeezed his shoulder.

“Hah, you're one to talk. Please remind me, who was it again that just bought five new toys for Scratch, so he had a set of different colours to choose from?”

“He needs some variety,” you muttered, trying to keep up a serious expression. “But nevermind, see you in a minute then.” 

You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and waved, already on your way to spend some more of your coin.

Astarion couldn’t help but smile over your excitement for the market, before he picked up a dagger from the display in front of him. The handle appeared to be of higher quality than his current ones, and the blade looked sharp enough to inflict some hurt.

As he gazed further through the wares, pondering which one would fit him best, he spared a glance to check on you. 

He spotted you a few stalls away at the fruit stand you had mentioned. The vendor you were talking to gesticulated wildly while presenting his wares, leading you to laugh.

Astarion frowned and put the dagger away to take a closer look.

The vendor was young, an elf with blond curls, and Astarion noticed that he wasn’t an unpleasant sight. 

He was immediately bothered by the smile you gave the other man, the way he touched your hands as he started to offer you bite-sized pieces of fruit to taste.

His fingers lingered too long against yours for Astarion’s liking.

As he continued to watch you from afar, something inside his belly started to seethe – hot and ugly.

A feeling he experienced before when it came to you, but couldn't quite grasp.

Well, whatever this was, Astarion certainly wasn’t jealous. Not of some random street vendor at least – and why should he be? Because you had smiled so sweetly at him? Or because you were laughing again as you took another piece of fruit from his filthy hands? 

What in the nine hells could be so entertaining about buying fruit anyway? 

It was ridiculous, really, and yet Astarion imagined how it would feel to rip the vendor's throat as punishment for daring to touch you. 

Would he bleed out quickly? Would he scream?

Astarion shook his head, shoving the violent image aside.

He remembered the previous occasions when that unpleasant burning inside his stomach had appeared. It was the moment Gale decided it was appropriate to show you his so-called magical weave, or the other day when Wyll proposed a dance to you. You had kindly rejected both of them, but Astarion was still not particularly impressed by their interest in you. 

He knew what others would seek from you. Why they wanted you. For the same reasons he enjoyed being with you: your compassion, the kindness you spread. Your special talent to make him feel seen. 

There was also your wit, the way you would crack a joke even in the most maddening situations, making him feel light. And not to mention, you were a beautiful vision if Astarion had ever seen one.

Of course there would be others who saw those qualities as well, aiming to claim you.

A sudden wave of anxiety flooded his mind, moulding an appaling image in his skull.

He wondered if one day you would prefer someone else over him.

Someone who would match your kindness – acting all selfless and heroic, indulging in activities he found little pleasure in.

Providing you with something Astarion might be unable to give you, ever, no matter how much he cared about you.

Hells, what if you were already seeking someone like that?

His stomach dropped.

The dreadful notion spread its relentless claws past his ribs, tearing holes in his dead heart.

Blood rushed to his ears.

Before he even realised, his feet were already dragging him towards you.

He needed to be close to you – doing anything to make this feeling stop.

When he arrived next to you, he placed a hand on the small of your back and grasped your tunic, a little tighter than he'd intended.

He tried his best to keep his composure.

“Are we all done here, my love?” he asked, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh, Astarion!” You smiled when you noticed him, unaware of his musings. Your pouch was filled to the brink with fresh fruits. “Yes, I guess that would be all.”

Astarion felt the need to pull you away, but before he came up with an excuse to leave immediately, the merchant was already addressing you again. 

“Think about it, will you?” A smug grin plastered that man’s face as he spoke to you, casually bending over his counter.

Astarion gave you a confused look.

Think about what? 

“Unfortunately there’s no time to join the tavern tonight, but thank you for the offer. Maybe next time,” you said amicably and packed up your wares.

What was that? 

Astarion thought he must have misheard.

“What a shame. Perhaps you can give it a second thought.” The vendor was still beaming at you, before he turned to Astarion. “Your friend can come too, of course.”

“Oh, that sounds splendid. We will think about it, will we, darling?”

Astarion bit his tongue, swallowing the impulse to spit a cutting remark on top of his obvious sarcasm.

What in the nine hells was this mongrel thinking, inviting you to the tavern? And how he was speaking to him – as if he was some irrelevant bystander.

“Let's see what we can do,” you said politely, already on your way to move on. “Have a nice day. And thank you again.”

“You as well,” replied the salesman and waved. 

Astarion gritted his teeth as he followed you through the busy alleyways, still processing what just happened.

The vendor's words appeared in his mind.

That man had obviously desired to fuck you, and wasn’t even trying to hide his advances.

How could he have dared.

Astarion regretted that he had acted so passive in that moment. Usually he wasn’t one to hesitate, always a sharp comment dancing on his tongue, and yet… the thought of losing you to someone else had shifted something in him, turning him small.

His fury grew.

Oh, how he would love to grab that despicable pig by his throat, banishing that filthy grin of his face. Making him bleed. But he knew that unlike him, you would gladly refrain from a public bloodbath, so he shoved away those violent fantasies, even if the fire continued to seeth in him – unpleasant and hot.

He tried to fathom what posed the worst about this whole ordeal: The way in which the man had aimed to claim you, or his fear that you enjoyed those cheap advances – possibly were fond of it even.

Astarion's mood couldn't have been more sour as you arrived at a secluded area, away from the markets bustling.

“Can you believe it? That seller insisted on giving me a discount,” you broke the silence and pointed proudly at the wares you had gathered. “And they say there are no kind people left in Baldur's Gate.”

And just as the words had left your throat, Astarion finally snapped.

“Is that so?” he hissed, baring his fangs. “How generous. What a nice, handsome gentleman he is, also inviting you to the tavern with him.” He spoke harsh – his tone cold and venomous. 

You came to an abrupt stop, resting the groceries on the ground and fixating your gaze on his, a furrow between your eyebrows. 

“What are you implying?” You sounded puzzled.

“Oh, don't act so naive, darling, you know what I'm implying. That man wanted to bed you, everyone could see it from the way he treated you. And by the laughs you offered him, you seemed to enjoy his attention as well, did you not? What a flirt you are.”

His accusations left a taste of ash in his mouth. Moments before his anger seemed directed at the man’s advances, and now his bottled-up wrath was boiling onto you.

The bewildered look on your face turned into something else, something sad, your eyes losing their shine. He sensed that he must’ve hurt you, and it tugged at his heartstrings.

“So, you’re jealous of that man, is that what this is about?”

“Me? Being jealous of some filthy street vendor?” Astarion scoffed, immediately falling back to his dramatics, gesticulating defensively with his hands. “Don't insult me, darling. I find it amusing that he thinks he can have you, and I didn’t fail to miss your interest in him,” he bit, almost choking on the dry chuckle that spilled from his lips.

“There was no interest from my side, other than purchasing some of his wares,” you explained. Then you opened your mouth again, sharply sucking air between your teeth, before your gaze softened. Your voice was calm, without spite or anger. “He recognized me, Astarion. From the article in the gazette. Slayer of the evil Ketheric Thorm and all that fuss. Does that ring a bell?” 

Of course he remembered. It was him that had to sneak past those giant steel watchers back at the gazette’s building, convincing the magical press to print an article in your favour. An article that wouldn’t taint your reputation, unlike the one Gortash had commissioned to derogate you. 

Astarion couldn’t deny that after the praising piece was published, you were indeed met with an unusual kindness from the people of Baldur's Gate. 

“Well, how could I forget?” Astarion's face twisted. “But that doesn't mean he didn't have something else in mind with you. Some people certainly would love to bury their blade inside a true hero for once, I can imagine.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Even if he did want to bed me, what does it matter?”

An icy grip twisted Astarion's chest. The image of you with someone else stung in his eyes, making him sick. 

Before he could growl another reply, you rested your hand on his arm, catching his fuming. “Hey – look at me, you silly goose.” 

Your tender touch was enough to quell the blazing flame in his belly. 

You spoke so warmly to him. So... loving.

Astarion rested his eyes on you and was met with an affectionate smile that disarmed him completely.

“Astarion, don’t you realise that I couldn't care less if thousands of people felt the sudden need to bed me?”

He bit his cheek, remaining silent.

“You’re the only one I want, you jealous fool. No one else – not now, not ever, and certainly not some random street vendor that throws a discount at me because he thinks of me as some kind of hero.”

Astarion’s features involuntarily softened as he took in your words. The fury that was about to overwhelm him dissolved into a flutter, engulfing his chest, washing away the seething that hooked at his ribcage.

“Really?” Only one word left his mouth, before he cleared his throat. “I mean – I'm not surprised of course, as you seem to literally cling to my side these days.” A poor attempt to cover his insecurity, but the best he could muster.

“Really,” you assured and gently tapped on his temple, “I vow on the tadpole flooding inside our brains.” You chuckled as you rested your hands on the back of his neck and shifted closer to him. 

“Well, but those might be gone someday,” Astarion mumbled.

“And even then, I will remain at your side. Only if you want me to, of course.”

Astarion didn’t have to think of his answer, the words spilling from his lips like a reflex.

“Yes, I would want that,” he whispered sincerely, his flamboyant mask crumbling. “Look, it's not that I don't trust you. It’s just… Well, I guess I'm used to losing what I hold dear. And the thought of losing you to someone else… I don’t know, apparently it woke something in me.” 

He felt almost ashamed over his sudden lack of eloquence, being so raw with you, but there was a sense of relief in opening up. To his surprise, it was even more soothing than losing himself in violence.

You looked at him with affection and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. He closed his eyes and sunk against your palm. 

“It's alright, Astarion, you don't have to explain. I promise you, you won’t lose me to someone else. As you said, I tend to cling to your side these days, and truth be told, I have no intention to stop.”

“I hope you won’t,” Astarion replied and took your hand in his to press a kiss to your fingertips. “But honestly, I have to apologise for doubting your intentions with me. With us.”

“I forgive you, lover,” you replied tenderly. “I didn't take you for the overly jealous type, though,” you added with a smirk.

Astarion offered you a wry smile. “Let's not dwell on it, shall we?”

Then he reached for your face, softly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger and rested his lips on your forehead, followed by a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull him into a close embrace. He could sense your heartbeat against his cold body, your pulse drumming in a comforting rhythm.

For a moment you were just holding each other, your head against his chest, Astarion relishing your warmth and kissing your hair. Your touch was relieving. Assuring.

You were with him, and had promised not to leave. 

Your affirmations repeated in his mind: You wanted him. Only him alone.

This was all new territory and Astarion sensed it would take some time for him to fully adjust, yes, but right now… this was all he could wish for.

“Somehow I don't want to let go of you, little love,” he hummed to your ear.

“Then don't,” you breathed and kissed along his neck, brushing his bite marks with your lips, sending a shiver down his spine. A particularly sensible spot, but you were allowed to touch him there.

Gods, how deeply he had fallen for you.

Astarion drew you even closer and sighed, your hands grasping the fabric of his shirt. 

When he gently peeled away from your hug, you looked up to him and bit your lip.

“Can I be completely honest with you?” you asked sheepishly.

“What is it, my sweet?”

“Well... I think that merchant truly wanted to bed me.”

Astarion laughed – deep, coming from his belly – surprised by his own lightness. The idea of fuming over your obvious admirer seemed almost ridiculous all of a sudden. 

“I told you so. But now that you see it too, I guess you wouldn't mind if we turn back for a quick chat? I would love to take care of that dear fellow,” he replied mischievously. While his fury was gone, he still wouldn’t mind some misdemeanour.

“Astarion!” you scolded, but joined his laughter. “Please spare that innocent man.”

“Relax darling, I will. For now at least. And only because you asked so nicely.” His fangs poked from the grin that adorned his lips.

“Good boy,” you teased and brushed one of his white curls behind his ear, his grin widening from your touch.

As you walked back to camp, hands softly entwined, Astarion noticed that probably for the first time in his life someone truly belonged to him – willingly, out of love.

You belonged to him. 

The thought grew in his chest, wandered up to his eyes, spreading affection through his entire body, and for the remaining way back to camp he didn’t let go of your hand.

Masterlist

[sparklingspite]

when people say nice things about your writing

[nemo-writes]

⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; as dawn breaks, you tend to sybil and the remains of the wreckage left by the attack. determined to root out the force behind this dark chapter, you turn to an old friend for guidance.

⚠️ warnings; slight descriptions of injuries and blood

★ previous ; next

☆ story masterlist

Morning breaks with the first faint light creeping through the cracks of your blinds, and the relentless scratching at the door finally ceases. Exhausted but relieved, you uncurl from your spot on the floor, where you spent the night huddled with Sybil. Her breathing is steady now, though a quiet whine escapes her occasionally. You gently stroke her white fur, matted with dirt and dried blood from the night’s violent encounter.

You rise cautiously, the movement tugging at the pain in your ankle. Sybil stirs beside you, lifting her head as if sensing your intent. Before focusing on her, you steal a peek through the blinds. The street below lies empty, no sign of any lurking danger. Then you check outside your apartment door, and there too, it's empty.

Reassured for now, you bend down, wrapping your arms around Sybil and lifting her up with a pained grunt. The adrenaline that had fueled you the night before has vanished, leaving only raw, trembling determination. Step by agonizing step, you make your way down the stairs, each descent slow and labored, every creak of the wood magnifying the weight of your exhaustion.

The shop is unrecognisable.

Shelves that once held carefully labelled jars and vials are toppled, their contents spilled across the floor in a kaleidoscope of shattered glass and stained herbs. Your cauldron lies overturned near the counter, its contents long soaked into the wooden floorboards. The air still smells of the burnt potion that had scorched Ghost’s skin.

The destruction around you is overwhelming, but Sybil’s soft whine pulls you back to the present. You set her down gently on a comfortable patch of floor, cleared from the chaos.

You scavenge what’s left, finding a few unbroken jars of salve and bandages hidden under the counter. Working methodically, you tend to Sybil's wounds, cleaning and wrapping them with as much care as your shaky hands allow. She remains still, enduring the discomfort with quiet patience.

Once she is cared for, you turn to your own leg. Your ankle is swollen and caked in dry blood, bruised from where Ghost had dragged you across the floor, his claws tearing into your flesh. You bite your lip as you clean the puncture wound. Wraith poison. It seeps slowly into the bloodstream, and if not treated, it can be lethal. You rub a poultice into the marks and wrap your leg tightly, knowing it will take time to heal, but at least it’s no longer a death sentence for either of you.

As you move to clean and pick up the remains of your shattered apothecary, every movement feels like an effort. You work slowly, but you push through, driven by the need to restore some sense of order.

While sweeping debris near where Ghost had writhed in pain, you freeze. Embedded in the floor, glinting faintly under the dim light, is one of Ghost’s nails, sharp and black, splintered into the wood from his violent struggle. You kneel down, inspecting it closely—its edges are jagged, coated in dried blood, and it radiates an eerie, dark energy. Carefully, you take a cloth and extract it.

Holding the nail in your hands, an idea begins to form.

You know of someone who can and will help. You swallow hard, the decision settling heavily within you. She’s not someone you reach out to lightly, but this time… there’s no other choice.

. . .

You leave Sybil resting on your bed, and only when her eyes flutter closed, do you leave her side, the familiar warmth of her presence a small comfort in the back of your mind.

You gather what you need, moving with purpose despite the clammines in your hands. The bathroom becomes your makeshift altar, and though the tub is humble, it will serve.

Carefully, you sprinkle the salvaged herbs into the water, watching as they drift across the surface. Each herb was chosen with intent—rosemary for protection, thyme for courage, lavender for clarity. A handful of salt follows, grounding the mixture and cleansing it.

With a slow exhale, you press your own nail hard against your thumb with a flinch, allowing a drop of your blood to fall into the tub. The water shudders, rippling outward in response, as though alive to your plea. Then, you murmur her name.

The surface of the water begins to glow with a faint, silvery light, casting soft reflections on the walls. The air thickens, each breath becoming heavier as the veil between worlds trembles before finally falling open.

Slowly, deliberately, she emerges from the tub. The top of her head, crowned with dark, damp hair, breaks through first, followed by her sharp, regal features, her eyes pale pools. She rises until her neck and shoulders hover just above the waterline, her arms gracefully settling over the edge of the tub.

Her gaze finds yours, calm but penetrating, a knowing smile flickering across her lips as she studies your face. The familiarity settles comfortably in the air between the two of you.

"Thou art troubled, mine old friend," she speaks, her voice a soft echo in the space. "What darkness doth plague thy heart?"

Her presence, while comforting, still commands your respect. You were taught from childhood to call her name only when truly needed, for she was an ally to your bloodline, but not a spirit to be called upon lightly.

Her eyes fix upon your battered state. “Thou art a sight most grievous,” she says, her voice rich with the cadence of old English. “Fear gnaws at thy bones, and pain hath left thee ragged, hollow. Wounded, indeed.”

You breathe deeply, pulling yourself together as you lift the cloth-wrapped object from your side. Silently, you offer her Ghost's nail, dark and deadly. Her gaze sharpens as she accepts it, her slender fingers turning it over in quiet, focused examination.

“Reveal to me the source of his madness,” you plea, “and of the others’. Please, show me what’s driven them to this.”

She studies the nail, tracing its jagged edges. Finally, she speaks.

“Aye,” she begins, voice grave, “thou seeketh the truth behind his descent. Yet, be warned: the truth is not what it seemeth. She, the one they pursue—she is not untouched, not unscarred by the same darkness. Though she is the centre, she is not the cause. She is but human, and another hand doth shape this tale.”

Your pulse quickens, mind racing as her words sink in. Leah—she was a source, but not the architect of this obsession. Her eyes hold yours, unreadable but certain.

“There is a design here, a careful orchestration. Another, cunning and cloaked, doth play upon thy pack’s nature, bending their hearts to obsession, their minds to ruin. This plan hath taken root already; what was begun is now well underway.”

Leah is as much a victim in this as the pack—only a piece in someone else’s scheme. "Who?" you ask, desperation slipping into your voice. “Who would do this?”

Her expression softens, but she shakes her head. "The shadow hath yet to reveal itself. But know this: as long as the threads go unseen, the madness shall deepen. The one who drives this seeks not thy destruction alone. Their aim is vast—boundless.”

With a slight tilt of her head, she turns back to you, holding the nail delicately between her fingers. She then extends it to you, resting it on the cloth. Her cool hand closes around yours, a silent reminder of the weight and danger that this fragment carries.

“Hold this close, child,” she murmurs. “For it may yet serve thee well. In times of shadow, such remnants of truth may be weapons against the dark.”

Then her hand releases yours, trailing up to your cheek with a tender, cool touch, thumb tracing a slow, reassuring line as her gaze holds yours, unyielding and steady.

“Do not let thy heart waver,” she whispers, voice soft yet powerful. “Thou art not so easily uprooted, nor cast aside by such an evil. Thy roots run deep, born of stronger stock than this darkness anticipates. Hold fast.”

Then, as swiftly as she’d come, she begins to sink back beneath the water, her fingers slipping from the edge of the tub, leaving you with more questions than answers. Alone in the dim light of your bathroom, each revelation settles like stones in your chest.

You’re not without fault either. You’d fed your own resentments, let jealousy twist your perspective until you’d unknowingly played into the hands of whatever force sought to divide and conquer. And that needs to end here.

With clarity finally settled on your mind, your thoughts turn again to Laswell. She’s always been the town’s first line of defence, and whatever is lurking here has crept under her watch. If anyone can help you make sense of things, it’s her.

With Ghost’s nail clutched tightly in your hand, you gather yourself and start moving. You leave Sybil behind, resting and safe as you focus on Laswell. It’s time to face everything—to confront whatever has been taking root here.

. . .

On the other side of town, Alejandro and Rudy moved through the quiet, pre-dawn streets, taking care of some early business that couldn’t wait for full daylight. Alejandro was scanning over the market supplies they’d been tasked to retrieve while Rudy jotted down some notes, the calm routine a welcome reprieve.

The usual scent of bread and spice mingled with the morning chill—until something sharp, unsettling, cut through it.

Alejandro stopped short, head tilting as his trained nose caught the unmistakable hint of blood. A slow tension crept up his spine as he recognized it, mixed with something familiar and wrong all at once His grip tightened around his gear, and he motioned for Rudy to follow.

They followed the faint trail toward the edge of the Rose District, its shadowy streets still cast in the muted dawn light. And there, half-shifted and sprawled against the stone, lay none other than Ghost. A mix of something matted his clothes, his form slumped but menacing even in partial human form.

Alejandro moved closer, but as Rudy reached out instinctively to help, Alejandro’s hand shot out, stopping him. “Espérate,” he hissed, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing as he zeroed in on Ghost's red-stained neck and knuckles. The fury building within him found confirmation in the scent lingering on the half-wraith's skin—it was unmistakably yours.

“It’s her blood,” Alejandro said, voice low and furious.

Rudy’s eyes widened, and before either could demand answers, Ghost’s eyes shot open, wild and feral. With a snarl, he surged to his feet, tearing away from their reach and disappearing back into the shadows, leaving only their unanswered questions and a trail of dread in his wake.

Rudy turned to Alejandro, jaw clenched. "We need to check on her. Now."

Without hesitation, they both turned on their heels, abandoning their morning duties. The journey back to your shop felt longer than it should, the urgency of what they might find gnawing at both of them.

The strange behaviour of the pack had lingered at the edges of Alejandro's thoughts. He remembered how odd they’d been the last time he and Rudy had delivered your tonics and potions to them—unsettled, like they were barely holding themselves together. He cursed at his carelessness. Whatever had been brewing beneath the surface had clearly boiled over, and now, you were caught on it dead and centre.

When they finally arrived at your shop, the destruction greeted them like a wound left open. Clearly someone had attempted to clean up, but shelves remained overturned, dried patches of blood staining the wooden floor. Alejandro could smell Ghost’s all over. But you were already gone. His eyes flickered upstairs when a soft whine from upstairs reached his ears.

“Sybil’s here,” Alejandro murmured. Rudy followed him cautiously up the stairs, where they came face-to-face with the door of your apartment—warded heavily with a spell they both recognized. It allowed only those with genuine intentions to pass.

A moment passed before the door clicked softly open, just enough to let them through. They ventured deeper inside and into your room, where the found Sybil laying in your bed, her head lifting as the pair approached. Her intelligent eyes locked with their, and though she couldn’t speak, her exhaustion told them everything.

"Pobrecita (Poor girl)," Rudy sighed, eyes soft as he looked at the injured familiar.

Alejandro, as a Perro Negro (Black Dog), possessed a bond with spirits, especially those of dogs or wolves. He knelt by her side, hand resting gently on her fur. Their connection deepened, and in the quiet of the room, Sybil communicated what she had witnessed. Through her thoughts, he saw the chaos that had unfolded—the fight, the terror, the injury. And most importantly, he saw where you had gone.

“Se fue a buscar a Laswell, (She went to look for Laswell)” Alejandro said, standing, his voice heavy with understanding. “That’s where we need to go.”

banner credit

[fhrlclln]

I. haunting you, haunting me | qimir

SUMMARY -> lies, deceptions & betrayals all beneath an innocent persona but does love still hold strong?

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist | part II

GENRE -> angst, fluff & semi-nsfw

WC -> 3.93k

a/n: pogiiiii 😫😝😗

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

you met him in one bustling day in the market in olega.

it was like any other day for you there but all changed when he had arrived. you had been doing your weekly shopping in the market, casually checking the fresh produce among the stalls. the crowd here was tight so you had squeeze in a bit to get out of the market once you had finished finding the items you needed for supper later. you sigh, trying to dodge as many people as possible but it became overwhelming when they came walking in from all sides.

“excuse- oof!” you bumped into a someone cutting off your words. you were about to apologize as you whip your head to the person you bumped into.

your eyes met instantly and the apology escaping your lips doesn’t come out.

“sorry.” the man in front of you beats you to it. he has this awkward smile on his face even though his black greasy locks concealed most of it. and the first thought that pops in your head is that… he’s cute. and the second thought coming right after immediately is does he bathe often?

your cheeks heat up realizing how long you were staring at his smile and his hair as you composed yourself. “it’s alright. i wasn’t looking, sorry. have a nice day.” you awkwardly averted your gaze from him as you made your way pass him. you could still feel his gaze at you as you walked away. you didn't know what compelled you to look back but you did, seeing that he was already gone. huh.

you thought about the stranger since that day yet you knew you wouldn’t see him again. people come and go, even the cute ones, you think to yourself. the city was big here in olega and it was a common planet for travelers, merchants or all kinds of people to land in and go.

yet you were absolutely wrong about that.

the second time you went to the market, he was there, shopping as well- or it seemed like he was browsing than shopping. it made you chuckle when a street vendor had scolded him for looking at the produce for too long. your chuckle may have went to his ears as he looked towards you, offering a small smile and a wave in which you reciprocated by smiling back at him, continuing on with your day. the anticipation lingering in the air. you thought he might be a merchant or some kind but that curiosity in you flew away as you remembered he was just a stranger here. a cute one, yes.

the third time you met him was out of coincidence really. the local apothecary that you go to despite its reputation for offering the illegal assets... they supplied you with medicinal herbs that you often use in your home cooking and personal use. and that's when you had finally got to know who this stranger is.

going in, you expected the owner greet you as usual yet you were met with the familiar greasy black locks of a man standing behind the counter. he’s wearing those loose clothing of his. he was fiddling with something in his hands, seeming to be in deep concentration until you stood in front of the counter. peering over to see what he’s toying with until he flinched when he saw you, clumsily dropping the thing he was fiddling with as he met your gaze and small your smile of amusement.

"sorry!" he places the object on the counter, still managing to topple it over as he quickly catches it and places it upright at last. he coughs, embarrassment etched across his face. "w-what can i do for you?"

"did the previous owner sell this place to you?" you asked, curiosity in your tone. the shop doesn't look new, it still looked the same as the last time you've been here. "you're new." you point out, tilting your head to the side a bit as you looked at him, as if to observe him.

"yeah, yeah- he did. i own the shop now." he lies, well in truth he does own it now. there's a nervousness in his tone but he offers that awkward smile with it. "i'm qimir. is... there anything i can do for you, valued customer?" he stretches his hand out for a friendly handshake in which you reciprocated, saying your name as well.

"i'm a valued customer already?" you laugh as he chuckles at that.

"well, if you were a valued customer before then you are still now." he shrugs as you nod at that in amusement.

"thank you then." you say as you again met his dark orbs. there's this look in his eyes you cannot decipher but yet it makes your heart soar from the way he looks at you.

"just some few medicinal herbs please." you finally requested as qimir nods, reaching under his counter as he pulls out a pouch. you pulled out some credits as qimir places the pouch down on the counter with a glint in his eyes.

"it's on the house." he pushes the credits back to you. you were about to refuse yet he shakes his head. "on the house, for a valued customer. please." his pitch lowers as he leans forward with the pouch of herbs in his hands, gesturing for you to take it. you stare at him, an overwhelming feeling surges in the air of how close he is now to you.

"that's very kind of you." you match his pitch as he smiles. "thank you, qimir."

“no problem.” he says. an impulsive thought crosses your mind, not wanting to leave it like this as you unconsciously blurt it out.

“do you like stew?”

qimir blinks, suddenly confused yet he answers “i do… yes.”

your cheeks heat up, suddenly embarrassed how random that was. “g-good. if you like, you could… you know-“ the words struggle to come past your lips of how embarrassed you are to ask him to join you for supper.

“are you asking me to join you for dinner?” qimir smiles at that.

“yes… if you’d like. my home’s not far away from here and i was hoping to make something out of these herbs.” you turn away shyly as qimir chuckles.

“no, no, no- i love to! it’s just that…” he scratches his head, shrugging. “am i not a stranger?”

you hum. “i know your name, right?”

“yeah.”

“then you’re not a stranger to me.” you said casually. he is stunned for a moment at that, how willing you are to invite him in your home. the nervousness in you arose as you ready yourself for him to say no.

“okay then.”

and maybe that’s when things started to drastically change in your mundane life here in olega. qimir, the stranger from the market, had quickly grown a budding friendship with the moment you had invited him in your home. you got know him a little bit despite the secrecy he was harboring from times. you didn’t press any further from that, you just enjoyed his company he gave you.

and maybe it did change for him as well.

you were something… beautiful yes. curious and all the ways so innocent in his eyes. you were like a shining stone in midst of all the people in this planet. he momentarily thought that this was a bad idea… accepting your invitation. he had a mission and he wasn’t risking any distractions as of now. but yet, he could not resist the stirring desire just like he didn’t resist when the darkness came to him. you were somewhat like that. something he can’t resist.

amidst his mission on this planet. you had made his lonely way come to life. he cherished how you’d offer him now to dine with you or converse with him in conversation in his apothecary. the friendship you offered him was one he enjoys now. even his pupil had seem to catch on the lingering gaze of his towards you.

“you like that woman.” mae points out, you were in the apothecary moments ago with qimir until mae had interrupted.

“what’s it to you?” he defends himself, making the poison she’s requesting to kill one of the jedis in her mission here.

“i don’t think the master would approve of that.” mae says as he scrunches the bunda leaves she provided into the serum he made.

“i’m sure he won’t mind.”

“so… you do like her-“

“shut up.” qimir rolled his eyes. yes, he likes you. dangerously so. the gnawing desire inside him grew so rapidly that the thought of mae’s mission ending soured him. the thought of leaving you in this planet. he thinks about that, wondering if you’d say yes if he asked you to leave with him. you did mention that you wanted more than your mundane life here in olega.

“i should become a collector, don’t you think?” you say randomly one time. you were in his apothecary, sitting behind the counter while he fiddled with his merchandise.

“a collector, huh?” he looks at you, wondering why.

you stand up, walking towards him to his side. “i’d get to explore planets, maybe i can sell the relics i find for credits and i won’t be bound to one place.” you hummed thoughtfully. “i think that’ll make my life exciting.”

“why not a smuggler then? or a trader?” he asks as you chuckled.

“i said exciting, qimir.” you roll your eyes at him as he smiled.

“hey, my life was exciting when i was still dealing with the hutts.” he defends.

“yes, dangerously.” you point out. “but yes, exciting.”

you were a plague in his mind. a plague that he could not handle. your smiles were so innocent, like you were the first pure thing to come across him in his whole life. something not tainted but pure in all ways that made his heart soar loudly. and he felt like he fell in deeper with you and it ached him that the time he had in this planet was ticking.

and so it did. the jedis had found out about mae and eventually him, after they interrogated him in the apothecary and he ratted his pupil out. and of course, they needed to leave the city immediately and on to the next mission.

“i’ll come back. i promise.” he clasps your hands to his one night when he visited you in your home out of the blue as he was about to flee olega with mae. “i just need to lay low for a while.”

“there’s something more to this, is there?” you ask, your brows scrunched up in confusion while your eyes didn’t hide the sadness of him leaving. you knew about mae and you knew about the whole thing with her mission and him being involved with that. yet you did not know there was something more.

“yes.” he admits, taking in your features. his chest tightening as he rubs his thumb against your skin. “i’m sorry. i promise i’ll explain when i come back from khofar.”

you stare at him, conflicted, and he doesn’t waste time to kiss your forehead, concealing the promise.

“okay.” you say sadly as you watch him leave in the dead of night.

qimir couldn’t shake that image in his head once him and mae arrived in khofar. the forests were overwhelming and his thoughts go straight to you. he ponders now, wondering if he should stop lying to you that he wasn’t just some former smuggler or apothecary owner- that he was something more and he wonders if you’d accept him, the real him.

and that thought circulates him as he’s slicing every jedi dead here from getting in his way.

his mask is broken as the padawan he stabs falls to the ground. his two red sabers gleaming in the darkness. blood is spilled everywhere. he feels alive and eager- so eager to come back to you once he’s done here. master sol’s face contorts into anguish seeing jecki had fallen. it continues with him throwing his cloak out to the jedi as he uses the force to bring mae to him as he strangles her with one hand.

“you really didn’t know it was me…” he tightens his grip as mae struggles. “not even deep down?”

a disturbance in the force causes him to light his saber up as he felt someone creeping from his side. he feels a strong pulse of the force causing mae to be thrown back away him. he sneers, seeing if it was sol yet a slash of a saber causes him to defend himself as he registers the offender in front of him.

“you…” his eyes widened as his grip on his saber tightens as you pushed yours strongly. the hue of your blue saber in contrast with his causes him to momentarily let his guard down.

you stare at him, the heat of both sabers touching your cheeks. sweats beads against your forehead as you looked him with the same look of curiosity yet mixed with determination to kill him. qimir’s eyes showed a lot of emotions yet you could distinguish one in particular…

betrayed.

“a jedi? all this time?” he huffs, pushing forward as your sabers made a sound. you don’t answer as you suddenly pushed him back with your force, causing him to hit a tree. he groans as you held your lightsaber more loosely now as you stared back at him.

“not a jedi.” you say as a flicker of emotion crosses his face. he stands up, his nostrils flaring, a mix of emotions flooding his mind. his gaze is focused on you but all the attention was now dismissed as yord tries to land a blow on him. he’ll deal with you later.

the fight ends quickly. a number of jedi had already fallen under qimir’s blade except for master sol and the twins. you’re here now, with the sun up as you kneeled before an unconscious osha as you healed her wounds with a wave of your hands, channeling the force to seal up her battered skin. mae must have escaped.

“you deceived me.” qimir says from behind.

you look back to him as you continued to mend the young girl’s small wounds. “we both did.” you merely say.

“yet you were not surprised it was me.”

“i had my thoughts.” you shrug, standing up as you drape your cloak over osha. “from the moment you started to open to me.” you turn around now to face him.

here he was, arms glistening with sweat and battered with dirt. his locks were still covering his face. his black robe suits him and you take a moment to admire him before staring back at his distrustful gaze. he steps forward, you remain in place, he takes another step and the distance between you inches closer. his eyes were searching for something in yours despite this hardened aura he gives.

in truth, you didn’t really know that he was mae’s master for the first few times you were with him. he was good at concealing it, though the longer he started to spend time with you and opened his heart slightly, you already knew- in someway. meeting with master sol and the other jedis were merely a coincidence, they had also sought you out after interrogating qimir. and when you knew they all were heading to khofar, you had to as well.

“i should kill you-“

“you can but you won’t.” you say and gently raise your hand to sweep his dark locks off his face. to really see him clearly now. qimir tenses at your actions yet relaxes as you cup his cheek with your hand. “what’s stopping you?”

“you.” he whispers, reeling in to the warmness of your palm. even though he was conflicted with the idea of you being force-sensitive and trained, he thought for a moment that you were entirely different after revealing the real you but the longer he stares at your eyes, he just finds that same innocent orbs staring back at him.

“you tried to kill me.” he points out as your hand falls down to your side.

“you were trying to kill mae and her.” you sighed as you look down to osha.

“we should get out of here. the order would want to find their fallen.” you look pass him to see the bodies of jedis you had gently draped their cloaks over them. placing their sabers on top of them. qimir looks back at it, seeing that you honored them. he doesn’t question or argue further as he nods at your advice.

・゜゜・．

the sound of waves crashing is a soothing sound that makes you relax for a bit in this unknown planet that qimir had brought you and osha on. you clutch your cloak around you, the sea breeze is cold but comforting outside the cave in which you presumed this must be his real home.

"i'm going to wash up." qimir silently says behind you as you nod at him, seeing that he has his satchel and fresh robes in his hands.

"don't go too long." you say quietly as he nods. you could still feel the uncertainty in him towards you and by the looks of his eyes, the sadness is still there. he walks away, heading towards the rocky shores. you go back in the cave, wanting to look over the unconscious osha but by the looks of it, she's stirring awake as she sits up on the bed.

"how are you feeling?" you ask gently as you pick up the water qimir provided.

"i'm fine." osha says as she accepts the cup you are offering to her as she drinks from it. by the way she looks at you, she's also uncertain if she should trust you.

"i mean no harm." you say as osha quietly nods.

"why are you with him? why am i here?" she asks, a hurt in her voice. "he killed... he killed them all and you... you defended us. why?"

"i have my reasons." you answer her. "and as for coming with him... i-" you pause, this time you don't have a really solid answer. "i don't know."

but you do know, deep inside you, you knew you couldn't resist the man.

"where is he?" osha stands up quickly. a rage in her crackles as you don't stop her from walking towards the exit.

"by the shores, washing up." you tell her as she nods. you watch her go, knowing why qimir had brought her here. and it pains you to see the young girl so conflicted with her path... just like you had before. the desire of freedom.

you leave osha and qimir to discuss themselves in their matters as you went ahead to the lagoon where qimir had bathed, needing a bath for yourself. placing your saber, well your master's lightsaber on your discarded robes, you dip in the cool sea water. you shiver, the rocks beneath your feet made your steps in the water a bit wobbly but as you dunk your whole body in, the relief washes over your tired body.

"it's rude to stare." you call out, turning around to see qimir by the shores. you smile at him as he chuckles. he was dressed in a cream loose tunic, with his hair still damp. his eyes roam over your figure in the water and you feel like you're more bare with the way his eyes are on you.

"you're beautiful." he says silently, not bothering to tear away his gaze from your body.

"thank you." you hum. "you're not so bad yourself." you tease.

"osha wonders what or who you are..." he begins, sitting by the big rock near your robes. "and i find myself asking the same."

"i'm not a jedi..." you begin with the obvious. "my master was but he longed departed with the order. i was trained in olega in secrecy until my master passed." you say sadly as he nods in understanding.

"why didn't you tell me?"

"and why didn't you tell me you're a sith?" you countered as he hums at that. "if you asked, i would've answered." you answer his question.

"i was going to tell you... i promised you an explanation." he says as you nodded.

"why osha?" you ask now, curious with his answer.

"i need a pupil. an acolyte." he answers, a desperation in his tone.

"the rule of two was it?" his head shoots up to that. "my master didn't hinder his teachings about the other path, qimir."

"yes." he nods. "the power of two."

"you know this isn't osha's path. i do not wish to interfere but-"

"that is jedi of you to say. what do you know of osha's path? her anger, her fear, her pain, she'll embrace it once she's accepted for who she really is." he strongly says as you sighed, walking towards the shore as qimir's gaze follows your every move.

"i do not know her path, yes, neither do you. she will only know it herself." you say strongly. "but that doesn't mean you have to sway her with your influence. your familiarity with what she's dealt with."

qimir stands up quickly from where he sat as he comes near you. "i've learned to accept my darkness. i see potential in her than her sister. i thought mae wanted the same as i did. revenge. but osha... osha knows."

"you thought so." you mirrored his words as you feel his breath tingle on your cheeks of how close he is. "give the girl time to understand. if she wishes to become your pupil, then so be it."

"what of you?" he asks now as you raise a brow.

"what do you want from me?" he asks again, the confusion in him of why you chose to stick around has made him feel in daze.

"qimir..." you're about to part from him but he grips your bare hips, holding you close. "i don't know." you whisper as you gaze into his eyes. water drips down your back as you hold yourself steady by placing your hands on his chiseled chest.

"you don't know?" he whispers back as his gaze flicks from your eyes to your open lips.

"i don't..." you huff, the swimming desire in you igniting as he smirks.

"maybe i don't need an acolyte..." he says thoughtfully as he presses against making you shiver. his hand roam to your hips up to your waist. "an equal, perhaps?"

the tension breaks as he locks your lips with yours with such fervor and desperation, it makes your head dizzy as you reciprocated back with much eagerness. you moan into his mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him in for more. your body feels like molten lava from the way he's holding you. the subtle arousal in you peaks as you feel his press hard against your stomach. it ignites you. the answer you refuse to tell is as evident as your desire for him. you break away for a moment as an emotion crosses qimir's face. underneath the lies, deceptions and betrayals... was it desire and... love?

"from the moment i met you in that market, i just knew..." you confessed. "i just knew i wanted you."

his heart soars, beating loudly as he presses his forehead against yours as he whispers back with much devotion.

"and i you."

・゜゜・．

part two for the real boinking? ;)

[lacydollette]

RECKLESS ⸻ sam winchester

warnings sam winchester x fem!reader, bf!sam, angst, established relationship, sam being overprotective, fighting, lots of blaming each other, mentions of dean being in hell, some fluff, wc: 1.9k

You slipped out of the motel room as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake Sam. You had been driving for days, hunting a wendigo near the outskirts of Iowa. But the hunt wasn’t even the hardest part—it was the weight of everything else. Ever since Dean's deal, since he was dragged into Hell, Sam had been on edge, more protective than ever. And you could feel it creeping into every part of your lives.

You glanced at Sam one more time as he lay sprawled on the bed, finally catching up on some sleep. He deserved that. Still, you knew you needed more supplies. You were running low on salt, and in the need of a few essentials plus, you figured a little food wouldn't hurt.

The grocery store was only ten minutes away, so you grabbed the keys and your bag, telling yourself you’d be quick. On your way inside the store, you checked for your phone—"dang it", you cursed, you must've left it at the motel.

So you quickly breezed through the aisles, grabbing salt, herbs, and a few sandwiches and snacks for Sam. You loaded everything into the car and started heading back, happy to know you’d have Sam’s favorite food waiting for him.

But while you were on your way home, Sam was already panicking, pacing around the motel room. He’d woken up to find you gone, no note, no message, just your phone lying there. His mind raced through every worst-case scenario. Every minute you were gone, his worry grew until it twisted into anger. Losing so many people did that to a person, and Sam had lost more than enough.

He couldn’t loose you too.

When you finally walked in, expecting Sam to be asleep, you were met by the intense sight of him, eyes locked on you the second you opened the door, and tension radiating off him.

"Where the hell were you?" Sam's voice was filled with frustration and disappointment. "I... I went to grab some salt from the market. We were almost out," you answered, confused by his reaction. "Why? What's the matter?"

Sam rubbed over his face in frustration, walking toward you. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, as if ensuring you were in one piece. Even though you were back now, his heart was still racing. "Heck y/n, I woke up and you were just gone. Do you know what that feels like after everything? I thought something bad had happened to you." His voice was shaking with distress.

"I was literally gone for half an hour! I thought you'd be asleep. I didn't want to wake you," you explained, fumbling with your words. "I wanted to be quick in case we needed the salt. It took me longer because there was this huge crash on the highway—"

"Wow, that's a perfect excuse." He cut in. "And you didn't think of a way to call me? Let me know you'd be gone longer? No, no... the only thing on your mind was getting some damn salt." His words stung, more than you expected. "You need to calm down." you replied, trying to pull yourself together. Was he really so distrustful? "I know I should've told you before leaving, but look at me—I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes. "Goddamn it, I don't care if you're fine right now. It's the principle, y/n. You do shit without thinking, and I can't stand it." He took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. "There are so many things that could've happened to you out there. How can you be so careless?"

That hit a nerve, and your frustration bubbled over. "Oh, so you think I can't protect myself? After everything we've been through—after all the times I've saved you and Dean—you think I can't handle something as simple as a grocery run?"

Sam's face darkened. "This isn't about your skills. I know you're a good hunter. But you're reckless, y/n. You don't understand what it's like to see someone you love get torn away from you because of one mistake, one slip-up. And then to wake up and think it's happening again..." His voice broke, some vulnerability showing.

You softened slightly, realizing how deep Sam's fear went. But you weren't going to let him accuse you of being reckless. "I do understand, Sam. I know how much losing Dean broke you. But I'm not him. I'm not going to disappear, but you also can't suffocate me because of it."

"I'm not trying to suffocate you. Fuck, you really don't get it, do you?" Sam's voice rang in your ears, and for a second, he just looked at you with disappointment in his eyes. "Just forget it y/n."

The sudden intensity of his words, the way he yelled, startled you. Sam wasn't the type to lose his temper like this—not with you. Sure, you two had your disagreements, but this was different. He was on edge, and you could tell that this wasn't just about the salt. It was about everything that had been weighing on him since losing Dean.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, seeing his fists clench like that scared you, so the only thing you could do right now was walk away. Your voice was quieter now, the fight draining you. "I'll take a walk, clear my head."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you turned to leave the room. The last thing you wanted was to fight with Sam, especially not like this. But before you could reach the door, you felt his hand gently grasp your arm, pulling you back.

"Wait." His voice was softer now, the anger replaced by guilt. Sam pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if letting go would somehow mean losing you again. You relaxed into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his arms and the sound of his breathing helped calm you both down.

For a while, neither of you spoke. It was as if both of you needed that quiet, the space to breathe and let the tension resolve. And after a few moments, you pulled back just enough to look up at him. His eyes were softer now, and you could see he felt bad for snapping.

"You know," you said quietly, "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to worry about losing me every time I step out the door. But you also have to let me breathe, Sam."

Sam let out a long sigh, his hand moving to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I know," he murmured, though his voice still carried the weight of doubt. "I just... after Dean, I've been going nuts. Every hunt, every day, I'm constantly thinking about what could go wrong, what I could lose next. It's like I can't shut it off."

You reached up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing gently along the stubble on his jaw. "Sam, I understand. I really do. But you can't live like this—constantly on high alert, constantly afraid. It's not fair to you. And it's not fair to us."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort of your hands on his skin. "I don't know how to stop," he admitted quietly.

"I think it's always going to be there," you said softly. "The fear. But you don't have to let it control you." You paused, searching his face for a moment before continuing. "I'm strong, Sam. I know how to handle myself. And I promise you, if I ever feel like I'm all up in my head, you'll be the first person I call. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

Sam opened his eyes, looking down at you, and for the first time that night, you saw a flicker of relief in his expression. He nodded, though you could tell it wasn't easy for him. "I can try," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking," you whispered, giving him a small, reassuring smile. You stayed there in his arms, the tension easing itself. Finally, Sam spoke again, his tone lighter but still a hint of guilt in it. "I guess I owe you for getting the salt." You chuckled softly, leaning your head back against his chest. "Yeah, you do. I went through a lot of trouble for that salt."

"Next time, maybe wake me up before you leave," he said, a small smile on his lips, “Or at least don't forget your phone."

"Deal," you agreed with a playful grin. "No more disappearing acts. But you have to promise me something, too." His brows furrowed slightly, "What's that?" he asked. "You have to promise to stop worrying so much. At least a little. You're going to give yourself a heart attack at this rate."

Sam chuckled, the sound low and warm in his chest. "I'll do my best," he promised, “but no guarantees.” You smiled, reaching up to kiss him gently. "I'll take it." Sam kissed you back, slow and soft. When he pulled away, there was a warmth in his eyes, a quiet appreciation for the way you understood him, even when he didn't always know how to explain himself.

"Come on," you said, tugging him toward the table. "I got your favorite sandwiches, you need to eat." Sam hesitated for a moment, glancing at the filled grocery bags. But then he let out a sigh and nodded, he definitely needed these sandwiches now.

"Thank you, baby." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before grabbing the plastic bags and putting everything away. The room still felt heavy with the weight of what you were both going through, but at least you were in it together. You were safe. He was safe. And for now, everything was okay.

kinda need to fight with Sam just for him to be all soft and cutesy with me after and make up..

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @beausling @angelicjackles @sammyluvr @samwinchesterswifu @sampilled @seasons-of-death @starkeysprincess @rubyvhs @deansenvy @ribbonprincess @mxltifxnd0m

[yuriisclumsy]

hii!! can I request cale with a s/o who's high on anaesthesia? like they see cale for the first time, and they're already rambling about how pretty he is– only to find out they're married!! to him!! she tells everyone (who is willing to listen) about her pretty husband and how she's lucky to have him^^ thank youu

We’re…Married?

[Authors Note]: Hi guys! I'm back into making Cale x Reader request! At least for the ones I have on my inbox, until I get out of the authors block I have for my Genshin series. PS. This request is back from July...

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 735

»»►AWWWEE this is adorable. I want to keep it in a box and bury it 7 feet underneath.

»»►Okay, for this, I want it to stay in the fantasy setting since I don’t really like writing modern AUs. So, there will be some kind of herb that is used that has the same effect as anesthesia.

»»►As for why she had to take it. Let us say she had to get surgery for a broken bone she fractured because she ran and fell off a hill. Don’t ask me how this happened, because I don’t know either.

The sun’s rays shine through curtains, bringing light to the already dim room. They softly hit the face of a red-head that had fallen asleep on a chair instead of his warm bed.

The reason he hadn’t slept in his bed was for one small, lovable–his words not mine–dork he had grown to love; his wife: You.

And the only red-head who was insane enough to marry you was none other than Cale Hanituse.

Cale stared at your resting face with a neutral face. What else could he do, other than wait for his lovely wife to wake up?

Unbelievable… The moment I look away, she’s gone and clumsily stumbled down a mountain and off a cliff. Honestly, when will I get some rest from this girl? the man thought as he closed his eyes, getting irked at the memory of you falling off the cliff for the third time.

It was getting repetitive…and annoying.

“Hmmgh…” the sound of sheets shuffling made him open his eyes to see the movement.

“[Name]?” asked Cale. “Are you awake?” He gently leaned towards you to check. His hand moved away the messy hair on your forehead to get a better look. You slowly open your eyelids and see a handsome young man touching you.

“You’re awake… Took you long enough,” Cale said, still combing your hair straight.

You pushed his hand away. “..Don’T tOucH mE…I haVe a HusBaND…” you say with a growly voice.

Clearly, the herb that was used to sedate you was still in your system.

“[Name], stop. You’re still delirious and can’t differentiate what-for-what,” Cale tried to reason with you. But everyone knows that you can’t debate with someone that truly isn’t here.

“nO! yUO aRe An ImPOsTeR..!” You semi-yelled at him. “WhErE iS my HusBanD, yOu tHieF!”

Cale sighted at your idiocy. He found the way you argued rather adorable... Ahh, that’s beside the point!

“[Name],” he grabbed you by the shoulders to ground you as you squirmed, “I am your husband.”

“Wu-huh?” Your anger was now replaced with confusion and a stupid expression. “Whut?”

“I’m your husband,” Cale repeated. “The man you swore to be with the rest of your life, remember?”

“HUuuhhh??” The stupid expression you wore was now filled with reds. “We’Re…mArRieD?”

“Yes. Look,” he made you look at both your hands that had the wedding bands. “See? Married. For all of eternity.”

“..ThAt’S A LooOoNg tIMe…”

“I know,” Cale nodded at your comment, “do you…like the sound of that?” He shouldn't be asking this, in case the answer he hears isn't something he wanted to hear from you, but he had to. Curiosity dug deep within his heart.

You remained silent. This only printed Cale to regret his question. He’ll need to live with this for the rest of his life now.

“You don’t have to answer tha—”

“I do…”

Cale’s eyes widened. “What was that? Sorry, I couldn’t hear…” He had to make sure he heard right.

“I sAid…” you grabbed him by either side of his face and brought him closer to your face, “I. DO.”

He stared at you for a second before smiling, and then laughing at your antics. “Hehehe… I get, I get it…” Cale grabbed both your arms. “You need rest. Especially after the surgery on your left arm.”

“Surgery…?” You slowly ask, then your gaze follows his gaze at the arm he mentioned and loudly gasp, “WHAT IS THIS?”

There was a cast on the arm he said there was a surgery for.

Cale looked a bit confused. “Did you not realize there was a cast on your arm? [Name], how unaware can you be?” he flicked your forehead.

“OW–”

“Now, down you go. Off to the land of dreams,” he helped you get comfy in bed. “I’ll wake you up when dinner breakfast is ready, it’s still early in the morning.”

“Kay…” you yawned, ready to go back to the dream you left. “Night…”

“Good night…” Cale got back to lay in the chair he had slept all night in.

He snatched the blanket that had fallen off of him, and wrapped himself with it. As he was ready to take a quick nap before breakfast, he heard your voice creep up in the silence.

“..Cale…?”

“Yes?”

“I love you,” you say before falling asleep.

“...” he looked at your peaceful face and cracked a small smile, he whispered, “I love you too…”

Fin

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Master-List

[naturesapphic]

Hey, I have a request for the caregiver Wanda (and Agatha if you accept) where maybe the little reader is very sick (pneumonia or something like that) and they both don’t know what to do to help after they take the reader to the hospital?

Maybe breastfeeding included too

Pneumonia

Caregiver!wanda maximoff x little!fem!reader (caregiver/girlfriend relationship), Caregiver!agatha x Caregiver!wanda (platonic), Caregiver!agatha x little!fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: age regression, breastfeeding/lactation, sickness

A/n: fun fact! I had pneumonia when I was 11 years old and it got so bad that I had to be taken to the ER, that and I was severely dehydrated-

Hearing the radio and the sound of the car is what lulled you to sleep, that and how exhausted you were. Your mommy was driving y’all home coming from the ER. You had a severe case of pneumonia and it seemed that day by day, it got worse which made Wanda worry immensely. Then today it was worse than ever so she took you to the ER where they hooked you up to IV’s and put a breathing mask on you to help.

You were there for a couple of hours getting fluids and medicine in you and you seemed to be doing better which made the decision of letting you go home to rest. Wanda agreed with them and loaded you up in the car but since it was a thirty minute drive home you fell asleep but you could barley breath due to how congested you were. Wanda parked the car in the driveway and carried you inside in her arms. She placed you down on the couch which woke you up, causing you to get upset. “M-mommy…” you cry out and Wanda cooed at you.

“Shhhh shhh sweet girl mommy is here.” She shushed you gently, her accent making your heart flutter. “Hurts mama…” you whine out and started a coughing fit. Wanda immediately patted your back gently and grabbed your water bottle to take little sips from. After your coughing fit she told you to lay down and rest on the couch so she can go call someone right quick. You nodded and laid down with your stuffy and turned on your favorite show. Wanda went into the kitchen and grabbed her phone to call her friend Agatha.

Wanda called and told her to bring her best herbs and medicine for her baby. Agatha agreed and told Wanda that she would be right over and hung up. Wanda went back into the living room with you and told you that auntie Agatha was coming over to help you feel better. You loved seeing auntie Agatha so you were pretty excited. The two of you waited for a bit until a knock on the door interrupted the silence besides the tv playing in the background. Wanda went and opened the door to reveal Agatha with her hands full of bags.

Wanda helped her in and took the bags from her hands so Agatha could go see you. “Hey pumpkin! How are ya?” Agatha greeted you with a massive smile. You giggled and waved at her. “Hi auntie Agatha!” You said happily which caused her to smile even wider. “I brought you some stuff to help you feel better. Is that okay?” Agatha asked and you nodded your head fast. “Wes pwease auntie Agatha. I hurts weally bads.” You pouted and she copied you making you smile a bit. “That’s okay! I’m gonna help your mama make you some special tea and some soup! Go ahead and watch your show while we do that okay sweet pea?” You nodded and she patted your head gently as she walks into the kitchen where Wanda is.

The two of them spent an hour in the kitchen making you a special tea and some soup to help. They brought the tray in the living room and found you sitting up, still watching tv with your stuffy in your arms. “Here we go babygirl. Do you need mommys help to feed you?” Wanda said sweetly and you nodded your head yes. Agatha smiled and went to grab her stuff. “Well I’m glad I can help the two of you but I must be heading off now! I’ll call and check on y’all later! Feel better sweet pea!” She said as she walked out the front door. Wanda sat beside you as she fed you your soup and helped you sip on your tea. After you finished both things, you were getting really tired again. You gently pulled on Wanda’s shirt and looked up at her with sleepy eyes that made her melt.

“Boob mama? Pwease…” you asked nicely and she smiled at you, booping your nose, making you giggle. “Of course sweet girl.” She said and removed her shirt and bra, leaving her top half bare. She put you on her lap sideways and held you in her arms as you suckled on her breast. While suckling, Wanda started humming a lullaby that made you fall asleep and Wanda smiled to herself, happy that knowing that her little baby will start to feel better soon.

A/n: thank you for the great request Anon! I hoped you enjoyed and my friend @godhatesgoodgirls is sick so I think this fic was published at the right time so :) Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! :)

[bluskaiwriting]

top of the food chain | sergei "kraven" kravinoff

➤ pairing: AFAB reader x Sergei Kravinoff / Kraven

➤ warnings: Smut, predator/prey power play, mild kink if you squint (a little rusty so i'm just easing back into it)

➤ notes: it has been so long since i've felt the proper urge to write smut for a character and of course it has to be kraven *chef's kiss*

➤ more: masterlist | smut reblog blog 

She thinks it must be fate, the way she practically fell into his trap. Their destinies tangled like a spider's web before they even breathed their first breaths. He was made for her as she was made for him.

She'd been barely old enough to be out there in those woods alone. Old enough that the judge declared she was no longer a ward of anyone. She was finally free.

Hopping on the first train out of there, she ended up somewhere in the mountains. After years of suffocating under someone else's thumb. Fresh air and green grass, that was all she wanted.

The mountains seemed perfectly idyllic and visions of her spending her days here flashed in perfect sequences before her.

Until she realised that she was woefully unprepared for the rough terrain and most definitely did not think her dumb little plan through.

Night fell quicker than she realised, leaving her shivering and struggling to find food. By some miracle, she had gotten the fire going before darkness fell but now the gurgle of her stomach was starting to echo.

Foraging was her plan, though she only knew brief notes of medicinal roots and herbs. Sustenance was slightly different. She'd trudged as far as the firelight touched to avoid losing her way.

Losing the spirit and gusto that so quickly drove her out here, dread and dispair began to take their place. A feeling rose up in her, souring her nose and wetting her eyes.

She was a fool, a silly little girl who honestly believed she could do something for once in her life.

About to lose all hope, something glinted in the moonlight in the corner of her eye, something that looked hopefully like a berry. Instinctively, she turned and stepped towards the glint.

Suddenly she was 10 feet in the air, trapped in a net of some sort and still frozen from shock. She was now caught in a trap.

A stupid, stupid trap that she was doomed to stay in until the hunter who set it up remembered to check on it or until she died of starvation.

Fortunately, luck seemed to be on her side tonight. A man emerged from the shadows, steps feather-light against the ground in practised movements. Shoulder-length dark hair that curled against his cheekbones, glowing yellow eyes that pierced through her soul, and the build of a hunter for sure.

The small glimmer of hope she'd felt at the sight of another soul, was quickly eclipsed by something much darker, and far more primal. For some odd reason, her gut told her that she was prey and she needed to run.

She was always very good at ignoring her instincts.

Her eyes scanned slowly, taking him in. Strong thick thighs, long arms lined with veins, and plump lips. She imagined what it would feel like to be caught in those arms, to sit upon those thighs and feel him tense beneath her.

He raised his eyebrow as he clearly caught her eyeing him, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. His eyes were now scanning her too in reciprocation.

Her breath hitched at the sight, and her chest rose and fell in rapid motion. She was a prey caught in a predator's trap.

Though not an entirely unwilling prey.

He approached slowly, eyes never leaving her's.

"Who are you?"

She was surprised to hear an American accent lilting in his voice, betraying his almost native grasp of Russian.

"Cut me down."

Her voice was clear and crisp, she hoped, betraying none of her nerves and trepidation.

His eyebrows raised once again before he stepped forward and lowered the trap to the ground.

It was almost unfair, how easily she followed him when he beckoned to her. The pathetically desperate way she almost tripped over herself to run after him, when he sped up.

It's just because she was afraid of being out there alone, purely for safety reasons. At least, that's what she told herself to ease the sting on her ego.

And how she really found herself beneath him, panting and wanting? Well, she was cold and he was a human heater of course.

"Faster, please." She whimpered pathetically, whining with every thrust he delivered.

His hips pistoned in and out of her poor puffy pussy, wetness dribbling out of her with every push.

"Is all this just for me?" He asked, voice lilting with arrogance.

He pulled back and spread her thighs wide, taking in the sight before him. Pink lips glistened with the evidence of what they'd just been doing, her mind absolutely blank of anything.

Dipping his head, he breathed in deeply, a growl emanating from his chest.

Fuck.

Licking a long stripe along her slit, he pressed deep into her cunt, fucking into her with his tongue. He wasn't just tasting her, he was devouring her.

As he laved on her clit, his fingers hooked into her. Noises of uh, uh, uh, left her breathless.

She could feel it building, cresting higher and higher. She was so close if she could just get him a little deeper.

As his fingers explored her, he found a spot that had her making a noise. A noise so vulgar, her flushed cheeks grew hotter.

Smirking, he ground his palm into her swollen clit and drove his fingers into that spongey spot repeatedly.

She let out a wail so loud, she was certain all the animals heard. Her vision spotting white and a continuous ringing in her ears.

"Jesus Christ."

He huffed a laugh as he sat back up, releasing her thighs from his grip.

"Turn over." He smacked her ass, still kneeling before her looking more like a beast than a man as his eyes seemed to glow.

Trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, she propped herself onto her knees and lowered her arms to the bed. In this position, she almost felt like she was presenting herself to him, spread open for his taking.

She felt more than she heard him spit onto her, warm and wet. She clenched around nothing at the feeling.

Prodding at her entrance, he pushed into her warmth slowly, letting out a groan at the feeling of her walls squeezing him.

Her breath hitched at the fullness of it all and she swore she could feel him in her throat.

He pulled out so slowly, that she felt shivers run down her spine. He pushed back in harder, driving her up the bed.

A gasp left her as he sped up, pounding into her like his life depended on it. Kissing her cervix with every push in, it should have hurt, but all she felt was ecstasy.

As the stars rushed beneath her eyelids, she could feel that she was close again, but she needed a little bit more.

It seemed her beast-man could sense it too, and he brought his fingers down to draw tight circles around her clit.

Breathy high-pitched moans echoed in the dome, as she met her peak.

"Oh god, fuck. Yes, fuck."

She wasn't making sense anymore if she ever was. She clenched down on him, seizing up as waves of pleasure rolled over her.

In the vice grip of her cunt, he followed her over the cliff, grunting into her ear.

Lips pressed to the side of her head, he breathed into her hair as he came down from his orgasm.

As if the fog cleared, they looked at each other in a different light.

A softer light it seemed.

"I'm Sergei."

[lowkeyerror]

I Had To Come Back

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Notes: 1st person, Agnes, a bit of angst, happy ending, part 2 to I Can't Do This Anymore

Summary: After you left Agatha in the middle of her fight with Wanda, you thought you'd be able to move on with your life. However, it was a foolish thought considering how deeply you felt for Agatha. So eventually you find yourself back in Westview looking for her.

An: Been a long time since I've written in 1st person, but wanted to keep it cohesive with part 1. I had to follow up after getting a comment from @dandelions4us only 3 years later but hope you enjoy part 2.

Part 1 | Masterlist

I didn’t think moving on would be simple, but I hoped it would be possible. However, without Agatha by my side life had become incredibly dull. It wasn’t a lack of excitement, but a lack of someone to share it with. After all those centuries together, I didn’t want to share it with anyone except her.

When I left her that day, I knew it had to be done. I did everything for her, but I would never be enough. I never wanted to leave, but a person can only come in second place for so long. Second fiddle to a hunger that would never be satiated.

I thought eventually I’d miss her less. That I would be able to move on from what we had, but that was entirely foolish. A woman as enigmatic as Agatha would always leave a mark on my soul.

I fought the feeling for years, unwilling to give in without trying, but fuck, I missed her. I saw her in everything I did. I could hear her calling to me, reaching for me. It was like she put a spell on me, which she very well could’ve.

I knew the truth, the feeling was all mine, no magic necessary. I still loved her, I needed to find her. I don’t know if she’d take me back, if she could forgive me for leaving, but I just needed to see her.

It was surprise to find her still in Westview. The town looked the same from the outside, but I could sense a difference from the people within. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked through the town.

I hated the way I felt their eyes linger on me. An outsider, or maybe they recognized me, either way it made me uncomfortable.

Going up to the house I used to live in was more challenging than I thought it would be. As I walked towards the house, I felt my heart rate picking up.

Maybe if I kept walking the block she'd eventually make an appearance. I didn't have to knock, I wouldn't have to face her. I just needed to know that she was ok, that would satisfy whatever I was feeling. At least that's what I started telling myself.

“Are you here for her?”

I whipped around at the sound of a voice. It was Herb. It was strange seeing him outside of the illusion Wanda casted, it was safe to assume his name wasn’t even Herb.

“I’m just visiting it won’t be long. Not trying to cause any trouble,” I leveled with him.

“Good luck, she’s been a bit off of her rocker since the whole Wanda thing,” he mentions.

That set off some alarms in my mind, “How so?”

“Sharon said Agnes is really into rom-coms this week. It changes pretty often, but I think rom-coms will be better than last week’s war movie theme.”

I tilt my head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say she created an… immersive experience for herself.”

I still don’t quite get what he means, but the only way to find out is if I check for myself. With a few small words of self-encouragement and a few deep breaths, I head over to the house.

I wait on the porch after ringing the doorbell. It doesn’t take long before the door opens. Agatha opens the door, eyes wide as they land on me.

“It’s you,” she whispers to herself.

“It is,” I say shuffling in my spot.

“Why are you here? You think after all this time I’d let you just waltz back into my life? You left me,” she doesn’t make eye contact with me.

My stare hits the ground, “Please, can we just talk. I know I left, but can you really blame me. I didn’t know if you’d ever care about me like I cared about you.”

She ushers me into the house. Her hands on my wrist cold like they usually were. I let her pull me into the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you’re back here after all these years. What brings you to town?”

My eyebrows crease, “I’m only here for you Ags.”

She shakes her head and laughs about, “You’re silly, be honest why come home now?”

I’m even more confused, “Home?”

She pushes your shoulder lightly, “Yes, goofball, home. Westview, the town we grew up in together.”

Worry begins to fill my body, as pieces begin to form together in my mind, “Ag- Agnes?”

“Yes, hun?”

I can’t help, but reach out and grab her face in my hands.

“Y/n what are you-”

I sush her as I look into her eyes. I search for Agatha behind her eyes, and begin to panic when I can’t see her. I can’t help as tears begin to fall.

“What did she do?”

I can tell Agnes is confused, but she uses one of her hands to hold mine in place.

“What’s wrong doll?”

Instantly I lose my last bit of composure, “I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Forgive me, my love… if I would’ve- I shouldn’t have left, I’m sorry.”

Agnes wraps her arms around me. It’s familiar, but different. She holds me up, and swipes at my tears.

“I have you,” she rubs soothing circles on my back but it only makes me cry harder.

My mind is racing. How was I going to fix this? Magic done by the Scarlet Witch herself. If anything I’d need Agatha to guide me more now than ever. Yet the woman was out of my reach. I hoped she was somewhere buried underneath Agnes, but I had no way of knowing.

I pull away to look at her, “I love you.”

A part of her melts away, “You’re a mess, you don’t mean that.”

“I do Ag-Agnes, I mean it more than you can fathom. I love you more than anything and leaving you… it was my greatest mistake. I’ll never forgive myself for it. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but allow me to make it up to you.”

Agnes rests her forehead against mine. My breath hitches as she looks into my eyes. Her breathing slows and she searches my features. It feels like an eternity passes, but eventually she puts her lips against mine.

I freeze and she almost breaks the kiss, but my arms encircle her. I keep her close allowing myself to indulge in this moment, I don’t deserve.

“I’m just happy you came back,” she speaks.

It almost sounds like Agatha, but you know better. It breaks your heart, but you’re devout. You’re going to fix this, you’re going to bring her back.

Agnes didn't have any push back when I asked to stay with her. She let me in and I got a glimpse into what the neighbors were saying about her… intense interests. I found a way to mitigate them, keeping her somewhere in the nosy neighbor medium.

I didn’t sleep much, spending most of my time in Agatha’s hidden space in the house. There were traces of her everywhere, I could practically feel her. The Darkhold was nowhere to be found, but I did come across Agatha’s old notebooks. They were filled with knowledge themselves.

I was hoping to find anything about breaking the spell she was under. She had books filled with her messy handwriting, nearly impossible for anyone else to decipher. It was different for me, I had been with her when she filled them, I could recall sitting watching her write, sometimes for hours at a time. She was always so dedicated to the craft.

It took a little over 7 months, before I found something useful; an incantation. It seemed too easy, like there should’ve been a catch to it. Yet it was my only source of chance.

“Agnes, I want to try something with you. It’s a little unconventional, but I need you to trust me,” I say, hoping she would agree.

She places a kiss on my cheek, “We’re past all the dramatics hun, you know I trust you.”

I nod, “Ok, you’re going to sit here, and I’m going to say some Latin. That's it.”

“Sound easy enough, sweetheart."

I begin to say the incantation while looking into Agnes’s eyes. I can see her shifting in her seat slightly uncomfortable. I can’t tell if the walls of the house are shaking or if it just feels that way.

“Stop,” she mumbled under her breath, but I don’t.

I keep going, and eventually she stands. She starts peeling off her clothes and I almost advert my eyes, until I see her changing. The different versions of her begin to peel back like layers.

When it’s over she’s naked in the living room. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I take a knee, unable to fully stand. It feels like all my power has been removed from my body.

“Agatha,” I call out to her, breathlessly. Though it takes all my effort, I lift my head.

“So, you came crawling back.”

It was her, the real her. I could tell by the harsh tone of her voice.

“Welcome back sweetheart,” I can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“How long has it been?”

I attempt to stand, but end up falling over, “Fuck.”

Agatha walks over, picking me up and easily placing me on the couch, “Now answer my question.”

“I came about 7 months ago. It’s been nearly 3 years since I left,” I look at her.

It’s surreal, seeing Agatha and not Agnes.

“3 years, I’ve been trapped for 3 years,” she says to herself in disbelief.

“Why'd you come back?”

She meets my eyes and refuse to look away, “For you, Agatha. When I found you, or should I say when I found Agnes, I freaked out. The Darkhold is gone, I did my best. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t apologize. You did the right thing, I mean what good would it me if we were both trapped.”

“What if I didn’t come back?”

Agatha sighs, “Then I would’ve gotten what I deserved.”

I grab her hand, “No one deserves anything like that.”

She snatches her hand out of mine, “Oh please, I bet you enjoyed the time with Agnes.”

I shake my head at her jealousy. It’s a testing move, but I hook my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me, “Agnes was sweet, but she is not the woman I love.”

“The woman you left,” Agatha’s vulnerability shines through.

“The woman I keep coming back to, no matter how much it might hurt me,” I remind her tentatively.

“You deserve more,” she sighs closing her eyes.

I lean in, “I just want you.”

I’m the one who presses my lips to her’s. She doesn’t deny me, caving into her desires. I’m putting everything that I have to give into this kiss. The passion is driving me and Agatha is meeting me every step of the way.

It’s not until my hand grazes against her bare stomach that we both pause, realizing she’s still naked.

“I want you too, more than all of this,” Agatha stares deeply into my eyes.

“You don’t have to choose, it was foolish of me to ask.”

Now it’s Agatha grabbing your hands, “It wasn't, it was reasonable. I had my priorities out of order, you are the most important thing in my life and I'm not willing to lose you again. I love you.”

I kiss the back of her hand, “I love you too.”

The moment we shared was sweet, but it soon was filled with defeat as I noticed my body still felt weak. I could tell something was wrong, I tried to use my magic, but nothing happened.

Agatha uses her powers to dress and they work just fine, yet I could see a remorseful look take over her features.

“Y/n, I think…”

I don’t care to hear the rest, “It’s alright, they always suited you better than me anyway.”

Agatha shakes her, “We can find a way, I can give them back-”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Aggie. I’m fine, it’ll take a little getting used to, but it’s not going to kill me,” I stand with much effort.

I could tell by the look in her eye, that she didn’t believe me, “I stole your powers.”

I roll my eyes, “I gave them to you, and I’d do it again, as long as you’re here with me, I couldn’t care less.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod, “Yes, I’m sure. Now let’s get out of this town, it’s beyond dreadful.”

She takes my hand in hers a mischievous smile on her face, “Anywhere with you, my dear.”

[loveueddie]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙈𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙'𝙨 𝙎𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙡𝙪𝙩

Pairing: Modern!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie warms you up for "work."

Warnings: +18, Smut, unprotected sex, insults like 'slut', mention of drugs, slaps, Dom!Eddie, mention of 'Daddy', pornographic video. (I think that's just it haha)

Author's Notes: This is my first work, I couldn't proofread it so don't throw stones at me for mistakes lol. English is not exactly my language, forgive me if something is wrong. 🫶🏼🩷

You and Eddie are best friends with benefits. He calls you when he wants to wet his cock and you call him when your pussy needs attention. But what no one knew was that you two made videos during sex and posted them on a famous porn site, you two were famous on the site and made money. All of this had advantages, after all, who wouldn't want to make money just by having sex? Especially with Eddie Munson.

Having money was good and having sex with Eddie Munson was even better, he was her best friend but God, how could someone like him, who hadn't had that many experiences with girls throughout his life, be so good at fucking? It was a secret, maybe he was so fascinated in pornography since he was young and now he was doing his own with you.

Lying on your best friend's couch, wearing nothing but Eddie's old shirt, white lace panties, white socks on your feet and a herb wrapped in silk between your toes, you watch your best friend sitting on the other side of the couch, his skillful fingers, which They were in your pussy a few minutes ago, typing on the laptop on his lap, probably checking the comments on the video he posted of fucking your breasts earlier.

His curly hair was a little messy, shirtless, the tip of his tongue between his lips and the buttons of his black jeans were open, showing the happy trail of his pubic hair. He was sitting lazily on the couch, his legs parted as if silently inviting you to sit on his lap or kneel between his legs to suck him off. Both options were really good.

You pass the herb wrapped in silk for him to take a drag of which he thanks you with a wink and squeezing your thigh with his hand, leaving the marks of his rings and fingers on your skin.

Eddie laughed at a particularly nasty comment about her tit-sucking skills. "Looks like the Hawkins Freak has a new skill." He says with a smile as he squeezes your thigh, enjoying the sight of your ass peeking out of those white panties. "I bet I could make them cum just by sucking on those tits right now." Eddie blinks and blows a smoke ring, flicking the ash from his cigarette into a nearby ashtray. "Want to make us more money, baby?" Eddie asks as he caresses your bare, reddened thigh with his fingers.

You laugh, slapping his hand playfully and making a fake pout with your lips. "Doesn't the star here deserve a rest?"

Eddie smiles smugly, stretching and flexing his arm to show off. "Nah, we're doing good now, honey. I know you can take more." He suggests, pressing a finger against your cheek to gently turn your face to his, and looking at you lustfully. Eddie hands you the weed as he puts his laptop aside and lays down next to you on the couch, turning you onto your side to fit on his side. You feel his bare chest against your back. "I know you can. You never let me down." Eddie whispers, slowly rubbing his hard cock against your ass. Eddie's breath tickles your ear before kissing it softly. "Are you going to deny me, slut?"

Your breathing becomes shaky when he calls you a slut, kissing your ear and making you shiver. You bite your lip and then take another drag of the joint, playfully blowing the smoke in his face. Eddie laughs at your playful teasing and takes a deep whiff of the smoke, then takes the joint from your fingers. "So fucking sexy, baby." He murmurs, pulling your closer by your hips until they're flush against each other. "We'll give our fans something to jerk off to." He hand slides over your stomach, running his fingers over your sensitive skin, causing a soft moan to escape your lips. "Tell me, slut. How do you want to fuck tonight?" Eddie's fingers curl around your waist, giving your ass a gentle squeeze as he ponders your answer. "On your knees, on your back, bent over... It's your choice." His lips brush against her cheek, making her shudder as his hard cock presses against her ass. "We're going to make our fans cum, baby. Let's have fun."

You smile at him, rubbing your nose against his as you blow smoke into your half-open mouth, in which Eddie swallows the smoke satisfyingly. "Anyway you want."

Eddie laughs, placing a lingering kiss on your lips before pulling away. "Open your legs, baby." His voice is full of desire, the command mixed with a harsh tone. "I'm going to touch your soaking wet pussy." Eddie's hand slides up your thigh, pushing your panties aside to expose your slick folds. "I bet your pussy is already dripping for me, isn't it?" He murmurs against your earlobe, his finger tracing circles around your swollen clit as you gasp, your hips arching. "What a horny slut..."

Eddie's finger slides inside you, making you moan louder. His fingers curl deeper, teasing your sensitive spot as you throw your head back, your body shaking with pleasure. "They want to see us cumming on each other... And that's exactly what we're going to do." Eddie's free hand runs down your chest, pinching your nipple as he pumps his finger inside you, until the rings are inside you too.

Eddie pushes a second finger inside you, stretching your wet pussy as you whimper his name. "So wet, slut." He rubs his fingers against your G-spot, his cock throbbing in your ass as you pant. "I want to see that beautiful pussy when I fuck you, baby." Eddie slowly withdraws his fingers, tracing a wet path towards your clit before rubbing it firmly. "Get ready... I'm going to make you cum and we'll film it for our fans." His warm breath on your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you nod anxiously. "Let's give them what they want, slut." His thumb pressing against your clit as he hooks another finger, rubbing your swollen bud until your hips buck uncontrollably, your wet heat squeezing him. "Come for me, baby..." Eddie's voice is low, a whisper harshly as you choke. Your body shaking as you scream and whimper his name, your juices covering his hand.

You cum in his hand, panting and your chest rising and falling. You take a drag on the joint before passing it to him, placing the joint between your lips for him to take a drag on, since his fingers were busy in your soaked pussy.

Eddie sucks on the joint, shaking it as he strokes her tender, sensitive pussy, admiring your sensitive flesh glistening with her arousal. "Perfect, slut. It's show time..."

He kisses your hip, trailing down your inner thigh as you let out a satisfied sigh. "Get on all fours, baby." Eddie orders softly, pulling his fingers away from your pussy, making you moan softly, eager for his touch. “Now.” Eddie says in a husky voice, pulling your hair playfully, his cock throbbing with excitement as you obey, spreading your legs wide. Eddie smiles satisfied, taking the video camera with his hand wet with his cum, the other hand slaps his ass hard before starting to lower his black jeans to his knees, he wasn't even in his underwear.

You tilt your head to look at him over your shoulder, but Eddie grabs your hair and forces you to face forward. "Not yet, porn star." He plays with you, although his tone is hoarse with desire and commanding. He watches your panties stuck between your soaked folds. Eddie basically preps you before turning on the camera, adjusting your shirt above the waist and taking one last drag on the joint. The joint always made him hornier than normal.

Eddie turns on the camera, pointing at your wet pussy from behind, making you blush slightly. He records his finger playing with your wet lips, teasing you and hearing you whimper softly. “Please…” You whimper, breathing labored. Then suddenly he stops and you know what that means, it means he would continue if you called him..."Daddy. Please, daddy..." You add and that makes him smile, murmuring a "good girl" while pushing your panties to the side, revealing your slippery folds.

"Open your legs wider." He commands in a husky tone, his finger tracing circles around your sensitive flesh, making you moan softly. "What a horny slut..." Eddie teases your clit, making your hips shake as he takes another hit of the joint. "I'm going to fuck you deep, baby. So deep..." Eddie's voice grows husky, his cock poking your pussy from behind, teasing you. "Ready?" Eddie asks, his dick pressing harder against your wet entrance.

"Yes, daddy." You say with a trembling voice, unable to take the delay any longer. But Eddie has some fun, pointing the video camera at the hard cock at the entrance to your wet pussy, the pink head of his cock rubbing teasingly against your wet folds, threatening to penetrate, but only penetrating the head of the penis and pulling away to rub the tip on your sensitive clit.

"Eddieeee..." You whimper, already starting to feel your eyes watering from wanting his hard cock filling you so much. Eddie smiles and gently probes your tight opening with his swollen head cock, enjoying the feeling of being enveloped in your heat. "You're so tight, slut." He murmurs against your ear, pushing deeper, filling you slowly.

“This pussy is going to take all of me…” Eddie moans in the back of his throat, sinking completely inside you, your bodies connected in a way that was intended to be filmed. "They're going to love this, baby..." His fingers curl around your hips, holding you firmly as he begins to pump his cock in and out of you, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing in the room , captured on camera. Eddie leans over you, his bare chest against your back, the camera suddenly thrust in front of your face. He was recording your face as he fucks you hard.

"Tell 'em, tell 'em you're my slut..." Eddie's breath is hot against your ear, his body tense as he fucks you harder, looking down and growling as he enjoys the sight of his disappearing cock inside your tight pussy. "I-I'm your slut, daddy.." You say, voice shaky and drunk with pleasure and his big cock fucking you.

"Cum for me... Cum while they watch us fuck..." His voice is rough, full of desire as you moan, your body shaking beneath him, close to your climax.

Eddie grunts, his cock throbbing as you squirt around his cock until it leaks out of your pussy, a wave of pleasure rushing through him. “Fuck, baby…” He gasps, his release imminent. He pulls you close, burying his cock deep inside you as he unloads inside you, the sight of your cum-filled pussy caught on camera making your climax even more intense.

"Perfect, slut. Just perfect..." Your breath hitches as he slowly pulls out, his cock glistening with your juices. Eddie smirks at you, rubbing his cum covered cock against your sensitive flesh, enjoying the way you shudder beneath him. "For my horny slut, here you go." He grinds his hips against you, recording with the video camera and flooding your pussy with his hot cum, making you whimper even louder as you grip the couch, your body shaking with pleasure. "That's it, slut. Take Daddy's cum..." Eddie's voice is full of satisfaction, his gaze fixed on the sight of your cum-filled pussy before he pulls away gently, collapsing against your back, panting.

His chest rises and falls against you, his arms wrapped around you as you bask in the glow, completely exhausted. Eddie then turns the camera to focus on his sweaty face and his face, sweaty and flushed with pleasure. He gets up and hits your ass hard, making you jump and moan. Then he smiles, giving the video a thumbs up.

"Use a condom, kids." He says, ironically and playfully.

"You are so stupid." You say breathlessly, playfully rolling his eyes.

[auxmodi]

kitchen visit 🧄

my masterlist

summary : you’re making soup for the guards at Winterfell, and as usual, Sandor shows up to complain. But as he sticks around, you realize there’s more to his grumbling than he lets on. #wholesome

a/n: idk why but sandor can DEFINITELY cook, like he would be the best husband.

word count: 743

The soup bubbled gently in the pot, filling the Winterfell kitchens with the rich aroma of herbs and roasted marrow. You stirred it with steady hands, checking the consistency and seasoning as you hummed softly to yourself. Feeding the guards was no small task, but it was one you’d grown to love, despite the grumbling and ungrateful looks you sometimes got.

The familiar sound of the heavy door creaking open didn’t even make you look up anymore. “Evening, Sandor,” you called without turning.

“Evening,” he replied, his voice as rough as the scrape of a blade against stone. “Smells better than what they served yesterday.”

You chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his perpetual scowl firmly in place. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The thud of his boots followed as he crossed the room. You didn’t need to turn to know he was making a slow line for the worktable, the same way he always did. He liked to pretend he wasn’t lingering, that he wasn’t drawn here night after night by the warmth of the kitchen, the crackling firelight dancing on stone walls, or though he’d never admit it, you.

You turned back to your soup, expecting him to make a snide comment and leave like usual, but instead, you heard the soft thud of something being set down.

Glancing over, you saw Sandor standing at the table, pulling a small bundle of wild garlic from a pouch. He began peeling the cloves without a word.

“What’s this?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Stuff,” he muttered, already rolling up his sleeves like he planned to get his hands dirty. “Found ’em near the woods. Figured you’d need somethin’ to stop this soup from being a pot of piss water.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. Sandor Clegane didn’t “find” things for people, certainly not for you. The gruff, battle-worn man was many things, but thoughtful wasn’t one of them. Or so you’d thought.

“Thoughtful of you,” you said softly, your teasing tone replaced by something quieter.

“Thoughtful, my arse,” he snapped, grabbing a knife from the block and slamming a garlic clove onto the cutting board with a little too much force. “If the guards eat another pot of watered-down slop, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head as you turned back to the pot. “You know, for someone who supposedly doesn’t care, you’re awfully invested in this soup.”

He grumbled something unintelligible, but you caught the faintest twitch of his mouth, like he was fighting a smirk. Sandor Clegane, the Hound himself, standing in your kitchen, smashing garlic with all the ferocity of someone cutting down enemies in battle. It was a sight you’d never thought you’d get used to. But here he was.

The scent of garlic filled the air as you worked together, neither of you commenting on how natural it felt. His rough hands, scarred and strong, moved with surprising skill, tossing the garlic into the pot without waiting for instruction.

“You’re not bad at this, you know,” you said after a moment, tasting the broth. “Maybe in another life, you’d have been a cook instead of killing people.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “What, chained to a kitchen, makin’ pies and stews for lords and ladies? I’d rather rot.”

“You say that,” you teased, “but you’re always here. Starting to think you might actually like it.”

His knife paused mid-slice, and for a moment, you thought he might snap back with one of his usual gruff retorts. Instead, he shrugged. “Better company than the courtyard,” he muttered, almost too quiet for you to catch.

You blinked at his words, a flicker of surprise crossing your face, but you kept your focus on the soup. Quietly, you grabbed a spoon and tasted it, the warmth spreading through you, rich and hearty with just the right amount of sharpness from the garlic. “It’s perfect,” you murmured, glancing at Sandor.

His boots already thudded against the stone floor as he walked to the door, pausing for a moment with one hand on the frame. “Eat your damn share before those idiots get to it,” he muttered, glancing back at you briefly before pulling the door open.

You watched him leave, the heavy door closing with a creak. A quiet laugh slipped from your lips as you looked back at the pot. For all his roughness, Sandor had a way of looking out for you that felt almost tender, though he’d never call it that.