#another way to say people can now be easily seduced

[jasmineaoi]

Special profile:

[PLAYER KRS]

Due to the transferred profile and accumulated experience gained +10 000 charm.

Congratulations, people are now quite susceptible to you!

I just came to the realisation that now that OG Cale is in Kim Roksoo's body, Team Leader Kim Roksoo, on top of being tall, buff, and full of scars, has gained an insane amount of drip.

[sooniebby]

Restraining.. but it’s the guys weight holding you down.. bonus if he’s your sister’s ex boyfriend ;) bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock. Spanking, feminization, and light degradation. (Adding dub con just to be safe but reader consents to everything)

Smut idea where reader ends up getting fucked by his sister’s ex boyfriend and finds out he likes bigger and older men :3

After your sister, Karina,’s break up with her boyfriend, she’s been a bit of a mess. Even though she was the one who initiated the breakup. She never told you why but she certainly told you what she’d miss from her ex.

His smile, his hair, his hands, and his big co—

Yeah, it was getting annoying. You were honestly glad. You didn’t like the guy. Some bad boy wannabe wearing leather jackets and riding a motorcycle. He was.. like in his mid 20s! Too old to be a bad boy! You were at least glad you’d never see him again

But that wasn’t true when you ended up seeing him in your home… the day you were trying on a pair of shorts Karina got you.. the shorts were way too short for you—your ass cheek was basically popping out and you couldn’t even wear underwear with it.

And now here you were, gripping your bedsheets tightly with the shorts around your legs as you bit down on your lip. A constant force pushing up toward the headboard as he fucked you like an animal.

You could’ve said no. And really, you were about to.. but damn, he was kinda hot. Tall, lean, and tanned skin. Jet black hair.. why did Karina break up with him..? Personality maybe?

Fuck a personality right now though…

Anyway, while you lose your virginity to your sister’s ex boyfriend, all you could do was whimper and whine. You tried moving but his body was pressed down onto you, forcing you to take whatever he gave you

And what he gave you was harsh deep thrusts. Easily reaching your bundle of nerves and earning muffled screams from your lips. You shifted underneath him at each graze of your prostate but was only met with a swift spank to your ass.

He didn’t even say much for you to drop your shorts. A simple raised eyebrow and a smirk got you wet. Which is… very virgin like but at least you’re not a virgin now :)

You didn’t even think about how weird it was that this guy, who was about eight years older than you and dated Karina for almost two years was fucking you without any sense of guilt.

But fuck… your sister was right. He did have a huge cock.. but suddenly you thought about your sister getting fucked by this guy and now you felt disgusted. You tried to move again but was met with another harsh spank and him pushing you even deeper onto the bed

It looked like you weren’t leaving anytime soon. And embarrassing enough, you took it. Future you would deal with the guilt of fucking Karina’s ex.. present you would enjoy your first ever dick

“You do this for everyone?”

Oh. He can talk? You only mewled as his thrusts seemed to only get quicker, the sounds of skin slapping filling your room.

“Dressing in these type of shorts,” he tugged at the shorts around your legs. “How many did you seduce with these?”

You could only try to ignore him and just enjoy the feeling of getting fucked but he grabbed your hair and pulled. A cry left your lips as you glanced at him, a faint smirk on his lips.

“You’ve always been cute.. glad to know your pussy is tighter than Karina’s”

You couldn’t help but mewl at his words, your tight heat tightening around his cock. His smirk only grew—his eyes staring knowingly into yours.

He’s got you now.

You came soon after that in embarrassment. How could that even make you cum? But he loved it. His past thrusts were fast but it felt absent.. now, he was fucking you like he was wanting to breed you.

Your lips were continuously open, loud and unabashed screams left your lips. Each thrust caused your body to push forward violently.

“Look at you… taking me well for your first time. Y’know.. I think I know why some people love fucking virgins.”

His thrusts slowed down, earning a whine from you. He was slow and methodical which was good at first but randomly, he slammed into you, earning a cry in pleasure from you.

“Not for the innocence… but for showing someone new how good it is to be fucked. And the discovery of themselves.”

He slammed into you again.

“I think I don’t want this to be a one time thing. This pussy’s too good to give up.” He gave a soft squeeze to your ass.

“…’s not a pussy…” you slurred out, practically cock drunk at this point.

He only grinned. His thrusts were slow as he brushed against your prostate before stopping right there as he painted your insides. You gasped in disbelief, feeling the warm liquid.

He pulled out and got off from on top of you. You continued to stay on the bed—just hoping he’d leave now so you could sleep in shame for sleeping with Karina’s ex.

But you heard the sound of a camera going off. With the last bit of energy you had, you turned yourself around to look at him as he smirked at his phone.

He turned the phone to you, showing you the picture he took. Your bare ass as cum dripped out of your fucked out hole. Luckily you were face wasn’t in the picture but if someone had been in your room, they could tell it was your bedroom based on the posters you could see in the background

“Safe keeping. I had to delete Karina’s nudes… so I need some new material. You’ll be giving me more, yeah?”

You could only stare at him dumbly as he grabbed his shoes and slipped them back on. He grabbed his jacket and looked back at you. You could feel his eyes roaming your body before looking down at your hole that was still leaking with cum.

A twisted smirk was on his lips at the sight. You blushed in embarrassment and looked away.

“It’ll be fun helping you learn about yourself more… I’ll see you soon. Wear those shorts again, alright?”

With that—he was gone. But the only thing on your mind right now was…

Why was he even here in the first place?

And uh.. more importantly—what was he going to do with that picture?

I’ve always liked the idea of sister exbf but only if the bf is older and a bit mean, but I certainly think I can make him meaner for next time.. how do you guys like him?

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @nakedtoasterr @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @kaedezu @loivre @millecka @iwishtobeacrow

[mirohlayo]

IF IT'S A GAME, THEN

I'LL BE THE WINNER

( You're not the type to give up easily, and even less so for Max who absolutely doesn't want to lose the game. )

warning : mention of jealousy, angst but not angst, sad max :(, fluffff

word count : 2.5k

You sigh, annoyed. "What are you talking about? This is a bad idea, Max." The dutch shakes his head, absolutely disagreeing with you. “Look.” He jumps to sit on the pale green sofa, his left arm resting on the edge of the sofa, facing you. "We have nothing to lose. It's a good idea for a game, and I know that deep down you think the same as me." He waves his hands to accompany his words, determined to change your mind.

You run your hands over your face, completely tired. This discussion has been going on for 20 minutes now, and you don't know where it's going. Fatigue is growing within you and his explanations seem more and more repetitive to you, so there remains one last choice. "Okay okay, I accept. We're going to play this ridiculous game." You sigh heavily as your best friend almost jumps for joy.

It's ridiculous indeed. This game, or rather this stupid bet that you accepted. "I'll remind you of the rules one last time. The first person to date someone wins. What wins? The title of best seducer." You nod, rolling your eyes, to make him understand that he doesn't need to repeat himself and that you understand the rules of his so called very fun game very well.

You don't even know where it came from. Well, yes. It just turns out that both of your love lives are... well, not great. Each of your previous dates were all horrible, and the only time you were in a relationship, your boyfriend dumped you after 2 months because he had found something better. It's almost ironic because it's so pitiful. In conclusion, by forgetting certain details, we can say that your love life is a phenomenal disaster. And it was hard to do worse than you.

Except for Max. Maybe after all he was the king of fails. Many relationships of just a few weeks fell through because these girls only wanted attention, money and notoriety. Sometimes he would end up kissing a random girl when he was partying, a girl whose name he didn't even remember. But he always ended up going home alone, and regretting this kiss which meant nothing.

After these failures which weighed down your morale, you were always there for each other to reconcile. When you came to Max in tears, explaining to him how your ex left you for another girl who he thought was a thousand times better, he immediately took you in his arms. He comforted you all evening, wiping your tears while spoiling you with your favorite meals in front of your favorite movie. He had turned off his phone, all his attention was focused on you. Because there was no way he was going to leave her childhood best friend alone and sad because of some poor guy.

And when Max finally explained to you why all his short relationships had fallen through, you reassured him that not all of these girls deserved it. You had cuddled him under the thick blankets, lightly scratching his scalp, and spent the evening reminding him how strong and incredible he is, and that there was no better man than him on this planet.

Because there was no way you were going to leave your childhood best friend alone and sad because of poor profiteers.

But it was also in these moments that your feelings surfaced the most, and it was difficult to hide them. In the end, all these dates and fake relationships were just a distraction, some kind of fake companionship and joy to try to forget the real feelings you have. Your disastrous love affairs weren't disastrous by chance, they were only disastrous to unite the only two people who were finally made for each other.

And this game risks changing everything.

-

Max knew very well what he was doing when he proposed this game to you a few days ago. He knew that, if you accepted, everything would be easier for him. He is determined and confident, and he wants to win this game at all costs. Anything goes, and it's a big help for him since he was able to gain enough confidence to be able to, well...

Win your heart, and therefore win the game.

On the contrary, for your part, you want to continue to forget your feelings for Max. It's inconceivable to you that he could, even with a little luck, have romantic feelings for you. He is a great driver, rich, handsome and young who enjoys his life. Obviously a lot of girls including models beg him for even one chance. Max can't date someone as ordinary as you.

And yet, if only you knew...

It's almost 7 p.m. Max rushes to finish cooking your favorite dish, two plates already ready to be served. You've already been in the bathroom for a good hour now, finishing getting ready for your date tonight. You had no time to waste and you rushed to the first man who seemed rather nice and pleasant to you. You finish the last touches of your makeup with a brush, and the bathroom door suddenly opens.

Max smiles to himself as he hears the door click, and when he looks up, he wonders if he's still breathing. Before him is - without any, but no doubt - the most beautiful woman, the most resplendent girl in the world. Your face is divine, the burgundy dress you are wearing accentuates your magnificent body and your hair is harmoniously highlighted with the rest of your makeup. You are just... breathtaking.

He blinks a few times, completely unsure how to function for a moment. Your laugh brings him out of his trance and he ends up awkwardly lining up a few words. "You're just... well... breathtaking. I-I mean, really really gorgeous." You laugh shyly, lowering your head, a little embarrassed by his compliments. You can feel his gaze piercing you all over and for a moment, you feel like you're naked in front of him. Even so, he manages to make you feel so many things.

“What’s got you so dressed up like that, gorgeous?” He smiled kindly at you before lowering his head to finish mixing the sauce in the pan. His t-shirt reveals his muscular and veiny arms, his hands and his pale knuckles as he holds the pan firmly in place. His hair, still a little damp after his shower, falls lightly on his forehead, and his face displays a concentrated but calm expression. It was just easy to get lost in the beauty of this man.

“Mhh, did you hear me princess?” When you meet his gaze, he looks at you amused, a smirk evident at the corner of his lips. You shake your head, embarrassed to have looked at him like that, and fortunately he didn't comment on it. "Don't you remember? I have a date tonight" You rush to put on your heels, leaning on the white wall next to you. "Oh, you're right. I was cooking your favorite dish so we could eat together but I forgot you were going out tonight."

In fact, he absolutely hadn't forgotten the fact that you had a date tonight. He just purposely came up with this little plan, which is part of your game, to spend more time with you and show you that only he is perfect for you, and that at least he knows how to cook your favorite dish. As he examines your face, not knowing what sort of emotions are hidden there, he hopes deep down that hopefully you'll give in to your date and spend the evening with him instead.

But alas, the sad look you give him immediately makes him understand that you won't be keeping him company this evening. “Sorry Max. I appreciate the effort you put in and you know I love you, but I have no intention of losing this damn game” You end up smiling evilly before running out the door , already a little late for your date. The pilot didn't even have time to properly say goodbye to you, he sighed sadly.

But you were right on one hand. After all, it was Max who started this bet and there had to be a winner. Except for him, he didn't need to go on dates to find a girlfriend. He's already known her since childhood, and he's always wanted this girl, even after so many years. He grabs his plate with difficulty and settles down on the couch, where you could spend hours and hours watching anything and everything on the TV. He feels a little abandoned tonight, it's true.

The idea of imagining yourself chatting and laughing with a man other than him never resonates with him again, but tonight it's different. His sadness is stronger, and he seems on the verge of crying and breaking down. He knows he has to try harder and put more heart into throwing hints at you and making you understand that he wants to play this game with you, but you consider him so much a friend that you take all his actions friendly. And not romantically.

Max didn't even bother waiting for you to come home that evening, too disappointed and saddened. His heart tightened in his chest and he preferred to fall asleep earlier than usual to forget his heartache. You came home around 11 p.m., a little disappointed. You expected to see your best friend, but he wasn't there. Which saddened you even more. Your date wasn't that great, but he still insisted on making it up to you and giving you another chance. And you obviously accepted the offer.

So, in the following weeks, everything seemed bland and gloomy. It was like a cycle, an infernal loop. A destructive and unpleasant routine had set in and it weighed on both of you, but especially Max. He spent his days thinking, finding ideas for activities to spend time with you and make you fall under his spell. To prevent you from seeing this famous date again. But every time, you told him that you were going out with him since he had invited you somewhere again.

You always apologized, but sometimes you still took the trouble to spend a little time with him, before finally joining your so called potential new lover. And as the weeks passed, your friendship seemed to fade away. You were drifting away little by little, almost as if it was normal or inevitable. Max, who launched this game hoping to win your heart, ended up letting himself be fooled by his own game.

But we already know Max, right? He was so fed up, but so fed up with this situation. He suffered silently, he struggled to smile and he had lost every ounce of joy. He was never affected like that and let's not forget to mention his jealousy that burned brightly every time you talked about your date. He couldn't take it anymore, he absolutely couldn't take all this anymore. He was becoming the loser of his own game, and Max is not like that at all.

He was born to win everything, emerge victorious and undefeated. He has no desire to give up this stupid game and proclaim himself the loser. No, he will be the winner in the end, no matter what.

Max stares at you, leaning back on his couch, while you sit across from him, smiling in front of your phone. He rolls his eyes for a long time, already knowing that you are talking with this man whose eyes he dreams of tearing out. You end up suddenly standing up, running your hand over your wrinkled tee shirr. "I think I'll start getting ready to go out-" "No."

Max was quick to cut you. His tone was firm and almost aggressive. He also gets up to stand at your height, greatly surpassing you. You have to lift your head to look at him, and under this pressure you begin to weaken. It would be so easy to let go and just kiss him. There is your date, yes. But that never meant that you actually forgot about Max. No, on the contrary, it was getting worse and worse.

“You’re not going anywhere, Y/n.” You frown, a little irritated by his tone and the way he speaks to you. "I'm not here to listen to your orders Max. I have another date, and I'll go whether you want me to or-" "Do you really love him?" He cuts you off again, moving a little closer to you, arms crossed. He carries this look so arrogant and menacing, and his gaze is so piercing that you feel like he can read every feeling in you.

He stares at you intensely, never letting go of your gaze. You try as best you can to hold his gaze, but after his question, you flinch. You part your mouth slightly, as if to say something, but nothing comes out. Your eyes also betray you, and your whole body feels paralyzed. You question yourself. Do you really love this man? Behind your impassive heart, you already know the answer.

There has never been any man other than Max.

Your lack of response is now too suspicious for the driver, who wanted to continue again but you cut him off. “Love is still a big word but yes, I really like him.” Your voice trembles slightly, as if you ultimately don't mean any of the words you say. "Don't lie to me Y/n. It was just a game basically." Max knows you by heart, even with his eyes closed. He knows perfectly well when you're lying, and it turns out he noticed.

You clear your throat, avoiding his gaze. “A game that perhaps allowed me to find a boyfriend.” You are hesitant with your words, not so sure of yourself. You fidget on the spot, rocking one foot over the other. This sentence seems to have really annoyed Max, who rolls his eyes, his jaw clenched. “Who told you we couldn't play this game with each other, Y/n?.” He looks at you like he's about to do something serious and unexpected.

Never have your faces been so close, only a few centimeters away. Your gaze falls unintentionally on his lips, then, as if it were forbidden, you come back to your senses and lock your eyes into his. But Max noticed, and he knows he's already won. "If it's a game, then I'll be the winner." He whispers softly, faintly. Until your lips touch. He kisses you like no one has kissed you before. It is a passionate, loving and exquisite kiss. Simply lovely.

His lips are soft against yours, but he moves them ardently, almost wildly but always in sensual desire. He releases all his emotions and all his frustration in this divine kiss, which he absolutely does not want to stop. Reluctantly, you step back slightly, smiling shyly. "Okay, I have to admit. You really are the winner." He chuckled softly, stealing another quick kiss from you. "Of course. You know I don't like losing, especially when it comes to you."

You rolled your eyes amusedly, pressing your lips to his again. This ridiculous game wasn't so ridiculous after all, even if you didn't come out a winner. Because after all, who can come out on top in a game when Max is the opponent?

[holylulusworld]

Bad Santa (2) – Two brothers

Summary: You’re an evildoer. This year, Santa is going to punish you. His evil twin brother has other plans.

Pairing: Santa!Ari Levinson x Naughty Lister!Reader x JackFrost!Steve Rogers

Warnings: naughty lister reader, mentions of being naughty/evil, implied attended cheating, punishment, kinda kidnapping, strict Ari, mentions of ice play/mild ice play (barely)

A/N: For my story, Jack Frost is Santa’s twin brother.

Bad Santa Masterlist

Catch up here: Bad Santa (1) – Level 6 Naughty Lister

“You’ll sit in that corner, thinking about all the sins you committed to reach the top of my list. When I come back, we will talk about a few rules,” Santa (Ari) growls at you.

You’re rather unimpressed by his demands. Crossing your arms over your chest, you push your tits up. Santa’s (Ari) eyes drop to your cleavage for a second. It happened so fast you’re not sure if he did look at your tits.

“I won’t tell you again, Naughty Lister!” He yells now. His voice booms through the room, making it shake. You only giggle.

Men yelled at you before. Mostly after you demanded more than their dick.

“Aw, that’s cute,” you snicker. “Do you honestly believe I buy this whole Santa shit? I bet that uptight bitch hired you to keep me away from her husband’s dick.” You snort at his angry expression. “Now, let me go. I lost interest in his dick. I get bored easily if I must put so much effort into getting dick.”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” He growls and grabs your upper arms. Santa (Ari) shakes you, only to earn another giggle.

“Do it harder, Santa,” you purr and lick your lips. “You know, this Santa outfit slowly gets me wet. If you put me over your lap, I’m all yours. Maybe you even got a nice thick rod for me.”

“What is wrong with you? Can you not think about dick for a moment? I am Santa Claus, St. Nicholas, the one and only, not some random man you can seduce! No one will fall for your trap here!”

“No one.” You smirk when his brother sneaks into the room. Jack Frost slash Steve looks a little more laid-back. “What a pity.” You fake a deep sigh. “I love me some good dick. Especially when it comes with a handsome face.”

“I—” Santa (Ari) groans and pushes you away from him. He starts pacing the room while thinking about a way to bring you back on the nice list. A naughty lister like you cannot defeat his faith in people or his festive mood.

“Allow me, brother,” Jack (Steve) says as his eyes roam your body hungrily. He’s bored most of the year. Santa rarely brings naughty listers here. He still prefers to punish the kids by not bringing them gifts. You, on the other hand, are a naughty woman ready to ride his aching cock. “You know, I’m a master at taming brats and naughty listers.”

Santa (Ari) clears his throat. You cannot know his brother can barely keep his needs under control. “No,” he simply says. “This one is on top of the naughty list. I don’t think you’ll be able to handle her.”

“I think he’ll handle me very well.” You nod at yourself as your eyes drift toward Jack Frost (Steve), Santa’s naughty brother. From the moment you met him, you knew he was a naughty one. “Those big hands are perfect for spanking my ass if I refuse to listen to him.”

Jack (Steve) can’t wait to get you alone. He only needs to trick his brother, the man who always knows what people think. “Brother, I’ve got this. Let me handle her.”

“I said no!” Santa (Ari) yells again. The walls shake, and you wonder if your boss’s wife paid extra for the special effects.

You smirk. If she keeps you away from her husband’s dick, you’ll take two for the price of one.

“How about you both try to handle me? Oh, Santa Baby,” you purr Santa’s name, “I’ll be an awful good girl if you give me that grand-prime dick you’re hiding in your pants.”

“Jack (Steve)!” Santa says, “Get her out of here before I lose control and throw her into the deepest and darkest hole I can find. I’m done with naughty listers for today.” At that, Santa (Ari) storms out of the room, leaving you to his brother.

“Damn, he’s a very good actor,” you hum to yourself. “I wonder how much that bitch paid you two. Did I see you somewhere else? Do you do commercials and stuff?” You wonder aloud while Jack (Steve) watches you with amusement. “What?”

“Doll, you still didn’t get that this is real, huh? My brother is Santa Claus, and I’m Jack Frost. We’re not fantasy figures! You’re not in Kansas anymore, that’s for sure. My brother won’t let you leave the North Pole as long as you act like a cat in heat yearning for dick.”

You wrinkle your forehead. Can this be real, or did you hit your head?

No, Santa Claus cannot be real. You didn’t believe in him since you were a kid. He let you down more than once.

“You’re slowly starting to believe us,” Jack (Steve) muses. “Why the sad face all of a sudden?” He searches your face. Unlike his brother, Jack cannot read your mind, or rather what’s in your heart.

Shaking your head, you try to push the disappointment and hurting away. Every Christmas, you have been waiting patiently for Santa to bring you a gift. The one you’ve been praying for all year.

It didn’t matter that you had been an awful good girl. He never came.

“She’s in the room for naughty listers now. I don’t know what happened, but she suddenly got sad and refused to talk to me,” Jack (Steve) tells his brother about the latest development.

“Why?” Santa (Ari) asks.

“Why what?” Jack (Steve) replies.

“Why did she get sad all of a sudden?” Searching his brother’s face, Santa (Ari) frowns. “Jack (Steve), what did you do? I want you to tell me exactly what you said to her.”

“I told her that this wasn’t a trick or a show. She had to understand that you’re Santa Claus, the real one. I told her that you won’t let her leave the North Pole if she doesn’t regret her sins.”

“Did she believe you?” Santa (Ari) asks. He watches his brother, furrowing his brows. “No lies, Jack (Steve). You know that I know if you are lying to me.”

“Brother,” Jack (Steve) sighs, “I don’t know if she believed me. I had the feeling she remembered something from her past and got sad. You’re the expert when it comes to reading minds and feelings. Do not ask me to do your job! Maybe you fucked shit up in the past!”

Jack (Steve) storms out of the room. He’s just done having the role of the bad guy all the damn time.

“What will you do if I’m a bad girl?” Back to your usual cocky self, you watch Jack (Steve) return. “Spank me? Bite me? Lick me?”

“I’ll freeze you,” he replies and taps your nose. You shudder because the tip of his finger turned blue. It’s ice-cold, but you don’t mind. “Any part of you.”

“How about you put that ice-cold finger to better use?” You lick your lips. “Did you ever use it for ice play?” You chuckle at his shocked expression. “Aw, don’t tell me Santa’s brother never got his finger inside a warm and wet pussy.”

Grabbing his hand, you guide it between your legs, pressing his cold finger against your panties. “You better not let Santa know.” His hand turns cold, and you whimper. The new sensation already has you on the edge.

“Say, are you like Elsa and can create a castle out of ice and a nice dress?” you purr and roll your hips. “Do you love to sing Let It Go, too?”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[chunksworld]

Moth to a Flame

IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N 1: Welcome to another episode of Chunk goes monkey brain. Credit goes to @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading

------------------------------

From: Vicky Jang

“She told me she just got on the plane, daddy. You know what to do.”

You should’ve known that she had something up her sleeve as soon as your girlfriend left for Japan. You should’ve known how opportunistic she is and yet you find yourself driving to her apartment as quickly as possible once again like you don’t already have a significant other that loves you very, very, very much. It should have raised red flags when you didn’t receive any messages from her the week leading up to your girlfriend’s departure. It was foolish from you to think that maybe, just maybe, she finally realized just how extremely messed up the situation is. You should’ve known better, you should be better. But it really doesn’t matter now because it was pathetic how quickly you dressed up as soon as you received that text from her. You couldn’t even wait until your girlfriend has completely left the country and you’re already dying to dick down her best friend out of all people. 

It’s infuriating how addicted you are to Jang Wonyoung. It’s infuriating how she can manipulate you. It’s infuriating how easily she can gaslight you. It’s infuriating how you are willingly giving in to all of it. And what makes all of the above worse is that she’s not even your girlfriend to begin with. No, she’s just your girlfriend’s beloved best friend that somehow crept her way into your life like some sort of parasite waiting for a vulnerable host. And you were vulnerable in more ways than one because it only took one session of drinking before she was able to seduce you and you’ve been falling prey constantly ever since. It didn’t help that you’ve already developed some sort of attraction with her that you tried so hard to hide deep inside you because of your “morals” but it’s almost disgusting to even bring out such a word at this point. Knock on the door in a specific pattern that only you two know and you’re met with a surprise that far exceeds your expectations.

“Wonyo—“

Only one foot inside and you already find your body meshed with hers, lips doing the same as you haphazardly close the door behind while you attempt to weather the storm that is Jang Wonyoung. It’s all too overwhelming and yet you should be familiar with it now; one second you find yourself engaging in an awkward dance in the middle of her spacious living room and then another finds you blindly crashing on top of her sofa (be careful not to land on her pillows again or she might actually kill you this time). An outsider might think that this is all just one giant mess but everything is carefully orchestrated; Wonyoung is one for establishing routines and sex is no different matter. Her slender fingers make quick work of your hoodie, hurling it god knows where and leaving you awkwardly in a white tank top that you wore in a rush. You hope she would look past it and she fortunately does, more so because it gives her an even better opportunity to ogle at your biceps than she usually would and such a sight turns her on immensely (though that’s something she won’t ever admit to you).

“Hmm. I’ve missed you so much, daddy.”

You hate it.

You hate how one word can bring the most primal and sinful desires out of you, the way she utters it with such conviction and vigor devolving you into a shell of your former self (which doesn’t say that much considering you’re so willingly giving in to what she wants). You hate how her perfume lures you every single time, notes of red berries and datura flowers driving you further and further into the edge of your sanity. You hate how those lips intoxicate you much faster than any alcoholic concoction could; their taste and texture rivaled by none—soft, plump, and with a hint of the peach-flavored lip balm she always uses. You hate how amazing her body feels against yours, tight, slim, curvy and oh-so-delectable in all of the right places. You hate how just one measly text from her brings you right into her apartment every single time. You hate how you always promise to yourself that this shouldn’t happen ever again and yet you find yourself itching to fuck her right at this very moment. You hate how easily you forget the fact that she’s not your girlfriend—or even worse, you hate the fact that she’s not your girlfriend.

“Wony, I told you not to say that.” It’s a feeble attempt in trying to look and sound intimidating when she already knows you too well—even better than your own girlfriend, unfortunately. It’s almost pathetic hearing her laugh in response, her teeth sinking into her bruised lower lips to prevent herself from destroying your ego even further though the sight just makes her that much tempting to your eyes. She knows how much power she holds over you, an irony considering her position in this power dynamic you two have going on; and yet it’s a position she’ll gladly relegate from if it means getting fucked until she can’t walk the following morning. But she’s too nice of a girl to push you to your limits and she doesn’t want her dick appointment to be ruined so she pulls you for another kiss to subdue your feigned anger. It’s embarrassing how quickly your anger is quelled the more she swirls her tongue around yours, the more amorous sounds that emit from those lips of hers, the lower her hand travels starting from your well-defined abs down to the raging tent forming on your gray sweatpants.

“Or what, daddy?” 

It’s downright poisonous, the way her eyes dare you to do something, anything and yet you’re like a deer in the headlights. Those damn alluring eyes. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary either, it’s common knowledge that you’re too much of a coward to actually confront her about the usage of that particular term of endearment (See, the truth is that you actually love the fuck out of being called “daddy”, but why boost her inflated ego even further by telling her? Keep acting like you hate it and she’ll continue to tease you for it). Thankfully, there’s still a small part of you that is completely aware of just how wrong all of this is—and this small remnant of humanity in you wants to inform her of such unjustness. To inform her that you have a girlfriend who you have a loving relationship with, that you should be in your shared apartment and FaceTiming her because she’s bored out of her mind in that hotel room, that all you should be worrying about right now is how to make sure her dog doesn’t leave a mess all over the place. Isn’t it your anniversary in a few weeks?

“I can’t.” Of course you can’t. It’s a “grass is green and the sky is blue” situation. Any response other than that would freeze hell over (not that you aren’t there already). Was it worth trying? Perhaps. But all it does is make Wonyoung even more impatient—and you should know out of all people just how incredibly difficult it is to deal with an extremely horny and needy princess. This brief moment of vulnerability enables her to flip your positions, straddling your lap. Groan as the underside of her shorts make contact with your clothed length and the sensation almost sends you into a frenzy. A proud smile paints her features—it’s another battle won for her and you didn’t even put up a fight. Maybe you should stop trying at this point, you’d rather paint her face with your cum anyways. That will surely look better on her than the loads of makeup she spends hundreds of dollars on.

“That’s what I thought. Now take these clothes off of me— and wait! Don’t rip them, okay? I’ll cut your dick off if I have to throw away another expensive top.”

“You’ll have nothing to fuck then. And if I recall, none of your toys can make you scream as loud as I do. I don’t think you want that to happen. Right, Miss Jang?” Checkmate.

“Hmph, shut up!”

Before either of you could retort, you sit up to meet her at face level. Take this moment to appreciate just how gorgeous she is, a face truly sculpted by the gods and made to be ruined. Starstruck couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt when Yujin introduced her to you, it was like looking at a Michelangelo piece come to life. Except she’s actually real and you’re about to spend another night finding out just how perfect she is, no need to snoop around in a museum somewhere in Europe. Brush loose strands of her hair aside and grab her by the waist, pulling her into a kiss that is gentler and softer than the first two. It’s captivating, alluring, and addicting. It’s a feeling you don’t quite achieve even in your hottest sessions with your girlfriend and deep down, that’s probably what kills you the most. “You’re so gorgeous, Wony.” 

“Save the compliments for later, I want you to fuck me hard right now, daddy.” Before you could even do the honors, she’s already pulling her top over her head and you do the same to yours. Wonyoung moans as your lips latch on to her neck; kissing, licking, and biting as you give her hickeys but you’re careful not to leave any darker ones or you’ll be out of here in a flash. It’s so sinful the way she moans your name, and it fills you with elation knowing that you’re the only one out of eight billion people on this planet that is capable of such a feat. It sends more blood rushing to your groin and you can’t wait to just ruin her. Your hands aren’t idle however, roaming her smooth back as you search for the clasps of her lace bra before throwing it with the same force as she did with your hoodie.

She’s definitely not as big as Yujin but her breasts are perky, taut, and just the right size to fit in the palm of your hands. You’ve grown to love them over time and you wouldn’t have it any other way. They look perfect in your hands and even better once you have your lips wrapped around them. Trail your kisses down to her collarbones, continuing to leave marks while you fondle her tits. It only makes her moan louder and you bring your lips to hers to silence her—you two have already received a noise complaint and you don’t want her to get kicked out (it’s definitely not purely because you want to kiss her again). But it’s useless once you do end up sucking on her tits, careful not to overstimulate her while your tongue twists around her areolas and your lips latch on to the soft flesh.

You would gladly stay like this until the end of time but of course the night couldn’t end like this because before you knew it, she already had a firm grip on the waistband of your sweatpants. Regretfully lift your face off her tits and she gives you a look that could only scream “fuck me already.” And what Wonyoung wants, Wonyoung gets. She removes herself off your lap and pulls the obstructing fabric down in one swift motion, immediately exposing your fully-erect cock to the cold air of her apartment. She almost drools at the sight, but she doesn’t want you to boost your ego either so she could only cover her hand to prevent you from hearing any sounds of arousal. But it really doesn’t matter because at the end of this night, you’ll have her screaming for your dick as if her life depended on it.

“Commando? Seriously? And yet here you were acting like you didn’t want to do this?” She tries hard not to give any further reaction and yet, her eyes can only look at its size and girth in awe. The sheer attention she gives to it almost makes you want to pull up your sweatpants again because of how much precum is dribbling out due to arousal. Completely remove your sweatpants and it joins the scattered pieces of clothing in her living room. Now you’re completely naked; and as much as you don’t want to think about it, not even Yujin gets the privilege of seeing you in such a state regularly (go ahead, keep thinking about your girlfriend and that would make it two women you’ll disappoint tonight). Just focus on Wonyoung, you already made it all the way to this point so you might as well see through it.

Make her straddle your lap again, this time working on unbuttoning her shorts and taking off her matching lace panties that are absolutely drenched. You would tease her for this but given the mutual overflowing lust for each other, you decide to save that for a later time. Now both of you are fully naked and given how wet she is, it makes the task of sliding her down your length much easier. Though it doesn’t say much considering how tight she is, even tighter than Yujin, despite the handful of times you’ve had sex with her already. You almost groan in pain as her nails dig deep on the skin of your back while your cock digs deep inside her warm and suffocating pussy. She screams, the sound reverberating throughout her studio apartment and given how thin the walls are, you two are about to give her neighbors a show tonight.

“So fucking tight, Wony. So. Fucking. Tight.” You hiss and grit your teeth as you fill her more and more, stretching her out with every inch inserted inside her. It takes a few more seconds before you can finally impale her, your tip reaching her cervix and then completely pulling out—audible whines from Wonyoung as she grabs your cock from underneath and forces you back into her. She’s so damn needy. But you would be lying if you said you aren’t either because you grip her ass needily as you begin to stroke upwards, immediately sending shockwaves throughout her slim body as she falls slump on your chest. Her slick thankfully aids in helping you maneuver or you’ll have to use some lube (something you’ve only had to do when she asked to do anal once and you’ve been dying to try it again).

“God—ah—f-fuck, daddy. You’re stretching me out so well.” Hot and heavy breaths send goosebumps all over your body as she buries her face on the crook of your neck, completely pressing her warm body against yours (you actually wanted to kiss her again but you’d gladly feel every inch of her perfect body as an alternative) and god, does she feel so fucking amazing. The way her thighs crash against yours, the thunderous slapping of skin on skin mixing with the faint noise of the heater turning on in the background, her moans flowing directly into your ears—it’s all too much to handle and as much as you hate to admit it, the fact that she’s not even yours to begin with is what truly sends you spiraling into a world of bliss. You’ve already fucked up anyways, might as well indulge to the fullest before judgement day comes.

And indulge you do because soon enough, you’re moaning and groaning much like she does—only at a lower tone as if a conductor is telling you to harmonize with her. But eventually, it gets drowned out by the continuous slapping of your hips to her thighs, creating a vociferous squelching noise that only increases in volume and confirms just how wet and aroused she is. Look down and the juices flowing down her thighs adds further evidence as it stains your crotch with her precious honey as well—such a delectable treat shouldn’t be wasted and should be lapped up instead. Fortunately you have the weekend all to yourselves so you can eat her out all day tomorrow if you want.

“H-Heh. You’re really enjoying this aren’t you, daddy?” Wonyoung lifts up her face to look at you for the first time in a while and she looks so beautiful, breathtaking, and absolutely fucked. Tears have begun to well under her eyes and yet somehow her mascara is still intact, guess it was money well spent after all. “I bet Yujin unnie can’t fuck you this good, huh? I wonder what she would be saying right now once she finds out that her best friend loves getting dicked down by her man, hmm?” It should make you angry, it definitely has to make you angry. But every sexual encounter with her has stripped you of any sense of dignity and honor. And at this point, you don’t give a damn about anything else other than giving in to your desires.

“Shut the fuck up, Wony.” You have no response either, so you just grab on the sides of her face and pull her into another kiss. “Just shut the fuck up and take this dick like the cumslut you are.” Fuck it. You go back to the hickeys you’ve made earlier and turn them to an even darker shade of red, making it near impossible to hide the sinful events that took place tonight. No worries, it’s not like you two are planning to leave this house for the next two days anyways. You want to make sure that you’ve fucked her in every single corner and in every position manageable. You don’t see it but a smirk appeared on her face. She got you worked up again like she wanted and it caused you to be even more aggressive just like how she wanted. You really are just a moth to her flame, how pathetic.

“Of course, where else would I want your cum? Turn me into your breeding bunny, daddy.” A sultry whisper to your ear and it unlocks an even more primal side from you. Plant your feet on the couch and you begin to fuck her with reckless abandon like the wild animal you are. Wrap her long legs around your waist and lift yourselves off the couch, a position that almost makes your knees give out. But your leg muscles are there for a reason as you grab on the back of her thighs and pound her relentlessly. It’s raw, it’s hot, and it’s so fucking passionate. The way her sweaty body would lift high up in the air before gravity brings it right back to your cock, the way she clings on to you for dear life, the way she tries to kiss you despite it being an almost impossible task. The air grows increasingly hot signaling your impending orgasm.

“I-I can’t hold on much longer—ah, shit. I can’t hold on much longer, fuck.” Thank goodness her floor isn’t made out of carpet because her slick starts to seep out of her pussy with every deep thrust. Usually she would respond with a one-liner but she’s so deep into her own world of ecstasy that all she could do is cry and wail as your spearing length continues to drive home into her cervix. You can’t talk that much more either because the familiar, bubbling sensation in your stomach only grows with each thrust. And the way she clings on to you for dear life, screaming to the world how good your cock is only serves to expedite and intensify your eventual undoing. It only leads you closer to completely unraveling like she intends you to, like how you’re supposed to.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuckkk! I’m gonna fucking cum inside you, Wony. Gonna cum and fill that tight pussy.” 

“Don’t fucking stop, daddy, I-I’m gonna cum as well. Please—“

“FUCK!”

With one final deep and unrelenting thrust, you completely explode. It’s a shout that’s definitely justifiable enough to cause your eviction, even more so as she joins you in your peak. It’s a sensation that’s overwhelming and numbing at once. Your vision is filled with white. You can feel your ears ringing, legs completely giving out as you crash back down on the couch. An out-of-body experience that only happens with her leading you to become breathless and scrambling for air. You won’t stop cumming, can’t stop cumming as ropes upon ropes of semen continue to unload inside her, every jolt of your hips make sure to shoot your cum deep and fill her walls white. It fills you to and over the brim with bliss, a feeling that you want to chase over and over again. It’s addicting, it’s mind blowing, and it leaves your balls completely drained inside her. So much so that your cum immediately starts dripping out of her fucked pussy as soon as the last spurts have been left inside her, an erotic sight that you will never get tired of. 

A few minutes past before the tremors completely stop and you engage in a mindless makeout session with her to help you two calm down. Brush loose strands of disheveled hair aside as you can gradually feel her breathing return to normal, wrap your arms around her waist possessively and she squeals due to her heightened sensitivity. “You filled me up so well daddy, fuck…..” Wonyoung takes a finger and swipes at a streak of cum that drizzled out of her and brings it to her mouth as if it was spilled ice cream, her facial expression indiscernible. “Yum! Next time I want it all in my mouth, m’kay?”

“God, you’re insatiable.”

She gives you a kiss, then she starts grinding her hips again. “Only for you, daddy.” 

[kytiapseud]

In Defense of Epic Manwhore au

Okay, so I’m kinda nervous to post this but I feel like it should be said. I hope I tagged correctly for the topics I discuss in this. So, in defense of the Manwhore au as for the concept being coerced, it’s not like the god(s) said ‘you’ll die if you don’t have sex with me’. Odysseus is the one who brings it up. Although yes, the line of consent there is a bit murky with Odysseus more doing so to get out of situations rather than because he wants to. It’s totally valid for some fans to not be a fan of the au, not everything in fan spaces is for everyone. You are entitled to your opinion and get to make your fandom experience safe for you. There is something I saw though that felt like commentary about those who came up with/ enjoy the au. To me this felt close to attempted fandom censoring or those who try to ‘cleanse’ all fandom content to what they think is morally correct. Again, it is fine if you want to share your thoughts on something. But I hope no one comes after those who do enjoy the au. I haven’t seen that happen yet, I’m hoping it doesn’t. But the generalization about what it says about those who enjoy the au doesn’t sit right with me. For reasons like I mentioned above, about worrying it could turn into attempted censoring. Especially if anyone tries to get others to agree to black-and-white thinking about what they think is true. That could easily turn into justification to harassment, which I have seen in fandom spaces before. Particularly with anti-proshippers.

There may be valid criticisms to this au concept, but that doesn’t mean everyone who is a fan likes it for the same reasons. Let me address some of what I’ve seen though. The joking about Odysseus being a Manwhore coming from homophobia. Yeah, that’s possible (although personally I feel like a homophobe is more likely to not even mention gay things.) I don’t think that’s always the case though. I know there was one animatic I saw, the first thing I saw for the au, that had a joke in it that I didn’t like. I don’t judge this creator, and in fact it’s a common joke I’ve seen. Particularly with people wishing they didn’t see something. It just doesn’t vibe with me. In no way do I think that those who say such jokes have something wrong with them. People have different senses of humor and I think some use such jokes as a way to cope.

Anyways, I think some of the humor more comes from how unexpected it would be. I mean, we have a war captain facing foes who instead of choosing to fight goes for seducing them. It’s certainly interesting. I know some of the jokes come from the others not involved in the coupling being just shocked or grossed out. I think that more comes from like not wanting to see someone else talk about or get busy with another? I mean, some of these men probably consider each other to be like brothers. I imagine that would be weird. I think homosexuality wasn’t taboo in ancient Greece, I’m not entirely sure though I may need to do more research on that. So there could be some homophobia to the jokes, but I don’t think that’s the case for everyone. It certainly wasn’t for me. It could also be lgbt+ fans wanting to see more gay stuff in the story. Gay shipping isn’t uncommon after all.

I don’t think everyone who talks about the Manwhore au has no problem joking about sa. There can be many reasons why someone may enjoy a concept in media. You don’t know. Like how women are criticized for rape fantasies. I watched a documentary about sex once (I can’t remember which one this was in now) and there was a whole segment about the rape fantasy, discussing why this is an appeal to some women. It did not mean these women want to be raped of course. Part of it could come from a culture of feeling pressure to not experience any sexual feelings, so the scenario allowed them to experience something without feeling guilty about it. There isn’t always a clear explanation for why someone can find something sexy.

I think this started as a joke, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there were some who wanted something sexy in their Epic fan experience. I mean, having read the Odyssey in school (twice actually) I did not expect I would want to see Odysseus in such a scenario. But then I saw one sexy fanart of him with others and cough I ended up liking it more than I expected. Those who have seen my reblogs on this tag know heh.

There’s also the infidelity notion. I feel like given the situation, Penelope would understand. I also saw some comments that they could be poly, which is a concept I like for this. I’ve also seen mention that human relationships with gods have ended up tragically for the humans involved. I don’t think everyone who listens to Epic knows about that. I didn’t. But again, this goes back to it being fantasy. People enjoying picturing it the way they want to. It doesn’t have to be accurate to the myths. It’s fanfiction/au.

I think the infidelity notion to it didn’t bother me as much as others because in the original, he wasn’t faithful. Sorry for Odyssey spoilers I guess. Anyways, I was already used to him being a cheater. Although the one with Circe may match more with the coercion along the lines of ‘sleep with me for your crew’. The knife that’s been shown in some animatics wasn’t in the original. It’s been a while since I’ve read it so I’m not entirely sure about how that went down.

Referring back to if Odysseus wants it even if he was the one who offered (sorry if I’m all over the place with this, I have a lot of thoughts.) Seducing foes doesn’t necessarily mean he didn’t want it. There’s a character in a Sanders Sides roleplay I was in named Remy (Sleep), whose rp version was created/and played by the wonderful @queroze , who was proclaimed by them to be a manslut. His go-to to get out of situations, if he saw it was a fit strategy, was to seduce. Sure, he got into situations that weren’t great, but often he was the active one in the seducing. I wouldn’t say his go-to being to seduce meant it wasn’t always consensual. In fact, there’s many descriptions and some statements from Que themselves saying Remy loved bringing pleasure to his partners.

Then there’s the mention of the unlikeliness of the scenario actually happening. I don’t think this matters that much to be honest. It’s fandom enjoyment. Who cares if people want to enjoy something that doesn’t seem likely in canon? I personally couldn’t see seduction working, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t find the concept entertaining. Sure people shouldn’t insist it could occur to the creators. But aside from that, it doesn’t affect you. Enjoying fan spaces is way more fun if we let things stay peaceful.

I kinda want to write a fanfic now that adjusts to some of the critiques I’ve seen of this au. I know I said I probably wouldn’t, but I got inspired while planning this heh.

[jonathan-samuel-smith]

Lord Jon and Prince Damian is a funny combination because just imagine Clark never managed to conquer all earth because magic and magic user, Talia basically built a huge kingdom to protect her people from the Lords and also accepts some others who are fleeing.

Years past and Jon has always been curious about that place and laughs when he faces Talia's youngest soldiers. He falls in love deeply hard about that boy with green eyes, then Jon starts to try to seduce that cute and smol boy (and Damian hates him deeply)

Just imagine:

Jon: *throws a body at his door like a cat*

Damian: ... Some guys bring flowers

Jon: I'm not 'some guy'

And also

J: "i've killed for you. how many other people can say that?"

D: "... Multiple, actually"

Basically: Lord Jon's love language is being annoying

Took me a while to figure out how I'd write the Super Lords, but eventually I was inspired by another work. I might write a sequel to this but we'll see. Fic under the cut.

Jon was scrolling on his phone, looking to find people talking negatively about him or his father so he could send them death threats. He could probably find them easily and make good on those threats, but then he'd have to get up, and he was comfortable where he was. He was getting a little peckish though, so he might run through a couple if he got up to eat.

His dad came into the room looking flawless. “Jon.”

“Hey dad, can you get me something to eat?”

“What? No. Get it yourself, or better yet, ask Kelex.”

“I thought you took away my voice commands after I killed the wrong general last week.”

“Oh, right. Have the knowledge crystals not taught you how to hack yet?”

Jon groaned ”I hate the knowledge crystals dad, they take so much time. I don't see the point in them.”

“The point is they would teach you how to solve problems, like how to reinstate your voice commands in Kelex’s code. Now get up, I have something important for you to do.”

Jon got up and stretched. “Oh I'm way hungrier than I thought. Hold that thought, Dad.”

“Jona–” Kal started sternly as a gust of wind blew past him. He could hear Jon ferociously consuming junk food from the pantry in superspeed. When he was done, he ran back up to his dad.

“Hey Dad, I'm back. What's up?”

“What do you know about Talia Al Ghul?”

“Oh that's easy. She's like, your archnemesis. Her family's got really strong magic so she can kill us if she gets close enough. She controls the last stronghold of human resistance. She's older than you so she's, what, a million?” He grinned cheekily “Just kidding, Dad. You don't look a day over 500.” He laughed. “Kidding! You should see the look on your face.”

“Jon, I'm being serious here.”

“‘kay.”

“She's just crowned her heir, Prince Damian. He's your age.”

“Oh?”

“He's an even more powerful mage than his mother, and trained in martial arts. He is a serious threat, one that needs to be neutralized.”

“Ok, but how am I gonna do that? You said he's more powerful than his mom, and you can't kill her.”

“He takes his group of soldiers into the Himalayas every month to train privately. I want you to ambush them.”

“Kill them, right? How do you want them dead?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“Alright. I'll be right back.”

Kal grabbed his arm and dug his fingers in hard enough to bruise. “You could die today, Jon. Take this seriously. Run away if you need to. You're no good to me dead.”

Jon nodded. “Got it.”

Jon flew to the mountains and looked for them with his heat vision. He found them fighting each other and flew down and started snapping the neck of the closest person to him. Unfortunately, this was slow enough to draw alarm from the other assassins, who all knew magical attacks. Still, Jon was quick and he fought dirty, letting out a deafening shout and causing an avalanche. The teens fought him with martial arts married with magic, sacrificing their lives so that the final assassin could defeat Jon and place him in magical bindings.

He spat blood. “You're lucky they can be brought back to life, or I wouldn't have spared yours.”

“I didn't ask you to. But thank you– not for sparing my life, but for beating me. I've never lost before. It was exhilarating! Can you do it again?”

The boy looked at him strangely. “What?”

Jon grinned manically. “You're a great fighter. I want you to defeat me again. And again and again until I get bored. What's your name? I never even lose to my dad.”

“... I am prince Damian Al Ghul.”

“Oh no way! I came here to kill you! Well, I'm not doing that anymore.”

“Clearly not.” Damian said, gesturing to the chains around him.

“Oh no, not cuz of that. I meant cuz like–” Jon cut himself off as Damian took off his mask and piercing green eyes met his own. “Wow, you're really pretty. I've never seen anyone as pretty as you in my whole life. Definitely not prettier. I think I was saying something?”

Damian blushed. “Tt. You were saying why you're not going to kill me.”

“I think I'm in love with you.”

“What?!” Damian squeaked.

“That was so cute! You're so cute! You're so small you look like you'd fit just right in my arms!”

“Go back to the ‘I love you’ part because I'm not understanding!” He shouted.

“I'll say it as many times as you want! I love you, I love you, iloveyouiloveyouiloveyoui–”

“Stop! You can't love me, you just met me, and your dad is superman!”

“Um, I'm pretty sure I can. Love at first sight is a thing, and I've known you for longer than that already.”

“So what, just because you think I'm pretty and I beat you for the first time, you're in love with me?”

“Is that not enough? Ok well, I really like the color of your eyes, and you're really powerful, and you make me feel so many feelings I have never felt before! Fear, excitement, curiosity, admiration, respect, awe, happiness, arousal–”

“Stop talking.”

“Whatever you want, gorgeous.”

“That's talking.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Still talking.”

“I don't know how you want me to stop talking if you keep talking to me. Oh but uh, don't stop, I like it.”

Damian facepalmed. “I'm taking you back to my mother.”

“Oh I hope she doesn't decide to kill me after you went through the trouble of sparing me, that would be really embarrassing for you.”

Damian was quiet for a few minutes. “...You've never felt curious? Or excited, or afraid or happy? Really?”

Jon shrugged. “Maybe once. But nowadays I'm always either bored or bloodthirsty. Except right now, I'm neither. You're the most interesting person I've ever met and I just killed 5 people. That's like, 1 more than I usually do in a day.”

Damian set his jaw hard. “Why do you kill so many people?”

“Why do you think, assassin Prince? To feel alive.”

“...Who do you usually kill?”

“Dissidents and criminals. My dad's okay if they're dissidents or criminals. There's not, like, a ton of those out there anymore, though, so I've taken to scrolling back really far on Twitter. Oh, and jaywalkers.”

“Tt. Typical.”

“Who do you usually kill?”

“Political enemies, soldiers, criminals.”

“I guess everyone's a political enemy when they're aligned with us and not you. That's a lot more people you can kill. I kinda wanna join your side now.”

“We don't kill frivolously.”

“Why not?”

“Because we value human life.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Why does your father care about order if not to preserve human life?”

Jon laughed. “My dad doesn't care about humans! He just wanted to tidy things up. He gets mad when I kill other people because it messes with his system. It's one of those dumb parent rules, like keeping your socks in the sock drawer, or cleaning the fortress on Sundays even though we have robot servants.”

“... You're completely insane.”

“Do you want me not to be?”

Damian furrowed his brow. “Why are you asking me that?”

“I want you to get what you want! You deserve to get anything you want, way more than my dad does. I bet you could with your magic! Cast a spell on me, make me sane for you. If you want that, I want it.”

“It's Jonathan, isn't it?”

“Yeah, or you can call me Jon. Or you know, whatever you want. Even if it's mean, I can take it.”

“...Jonathan. I don't want to take your agency away with my magic. That wouldn't be right.”

Jon shrugged against his chains. “If you say so, my prince.” Damian was quiet for a while, and Jon slipped free of his chains to help Damian cart back all of the bodies. “You should let me carry this.”

“What– Jon?! How did you escape my bindings?”

“Magic interacts completely unpredictably with me.”

“I don't– why are you even still here?”

“Why would I leave? It's not as if there's anything more interesting on TV. Twitter says all the shows are boring cuz of Dad. Well, you know, the dead side of Twitter. God do you know how perfect you look? From every angle?”

“Jon, I think you should just leave.”

“Well, my dad is expecting me home soon. What do you think I should tell him about you not being dead?”

“... Is he going to hurt you if you go back?”

Jon shrugged. “If I let him. Which I probably will, so I don't get grounded. But I might be grounded anyway since this meant a lot to him. If I don't get grounded, can I see you again?”

“It's best if you don't.”

“I'm going to be honest, I don't like that answer. If you want me to stay away you'll have to use your magic to harm me.”

“Tt. Do you have a death wish?”

“No. My biggest wish is for you to spar with me and win.”

“What if I lose?”

“Then we'll go again until you win.”

“...Hm. You're very… persistent.”

Jon grinned. “Thanks. Wow, it feels really good when you compliment me. Do it again.”

“Um… you have really unique eyes?”

Jon beamed. “This is great, keep going!”

Damian blushed. “I'd rather not.”

Jon pouted. “Pleeeeaaase? I'll do anything.”

“Will you go home?”

“Fine, yes, after… 3 more compliments. Then I'll go home, for now.”

“Tt. Your curls look very nice, your hair makes a nice contrast against your skin tone and you– ah… you… that is, you're very strong.”

“I already knew that last one.”

“I meant muscular.”

“That's not a compliment, that's just a fact.”

Damian’s ears burned. “...I like it. I like that about you. I like that you're muscular. It looks… visually appealing.”

“Oh, I'm definitely in love with you. I'd love to stay and compliment you back, but I said I'd leave, and I want you to trust me! If you ever need me, or just want me, all you have to do is call. I'll come.”

Jon flew back home. “Dad? I ambushed him, caused an avalanche, and killed his squad, but he still beat me.” Jon called out.

Kal walked out to see his son. “You look unharmed. Why did he let you go?”

“Honestly? I think I annoyed him too much. But I'm going back tomorrow.”

“I see… an ambush didn't work, so you'll have to gain his trust and then betray him. I was going to punish you but your tenacity and cunning deserve a reward, so it is simpler to do nothing.

“Oh, yeah, psh, that's totally why I want to go back. I totally want to murder him in cold blood. I mean, you know how much I love murder.”

Kal frowned. “I do know. It gets in the way of your studies. However, this time I approve.”

“‘kay. Thanks. See ya.” He went back to his room to watch Damian with his X-ray vision.

The next day, Jon went to Nanda Parbat and watched Damian from the sky, waiting until he was alone to approach him.

Damian’s hair was slicked back with sweat and he was flushed and panting.

“Prince Damian. You look somehow even more incredible than last time.”

“Spare me the mockery.”

“What? I'm not mocking you. The way your skin flushes and glistens is as enchanting as any of your spells, my lord.”

“Hn. You know most humans find sweat repulsive?”

“I'm only half human. Also, you smell great. Musky. Can I lick you?”

“Definitely not.” Jon pouted. “Do you want something?”

“Yeah. Can we spar?”

“After lunch. Would you like to dine with me?”

“Can I? Won't the servants see me?”

“I cook for myself.”

Jon gasped. “I get to try your cooking?! Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air.

Damian chuckled good naturedly.

Jon leaned against the island as Damian cooked. “What did your dad say about you failing to kill me?”

“Oh I told him I was going back today and he thought I meant that I was going to gain your trust to kill you.” Damian stiffened. “So I'm going to let him think that so I can spend more time with you.”

“Try this.” Damian said, handing Jon a spoonful of sauce. Jon tasted it.

“Hm, that's pretty good! I've never had this before.”

Damian tasted it himself and nodded. “It is good.”

Jon ate at his usual impatient pace and spent the rest of the meal talking at Damian.

“Alright, Superboy, follow me.”

“Anywhere.”

“Tt.” Damian led him to the training courtyard. “Here we are. Remember to be quiet.”

Jon rushed to tackle Damian but he predicted it and dodged, casting a spell to slow down Jon’s movements. It was a lot stronger than the spell Damian intended to cast, and he moved like a sloth. “Wow prince…” he began as Damian took his time pinning Jon to the ground and immobilizing him with a spell. The first spell wore off quicker than expected. “...Damian you're so fast! Oh, it's already over!” Jon giggled. “You did even better this time! I suppose it's to be expected since it wasn't an ambush. You're really impressive…” Jon sighed dreamily, looking up into Damian’s eyes with a lovestruck gaze.

Damian coughed and looked away. “...You wanted me to beat you. Did you go easy on me?”

“I can honestly say that didn't even occur to me. I don't know why I would do that. Would it have made you happy?”

“Hell no. It would have made me angry.”

Jon smiled. “I'd like to see you angry. Maybe I will next time. Though I don't know if you'd even notice, considering how well you beat me this time.”

Damian looked confused. “Why would you want me to be angry?”

Jon raised a brow. “‘Cause I wanna see how you look when you're angry. I've never seen it before. I wonder if it would make me angry, too. I never get angry anymore.”

“You're… impossible.”

Jon grinned toothily. “Is that a good thing?”

“... I haven't decided.” Damian got off of Jon, much to the younger teen’s disappointment, and did a nullification spell on Jon before helping him up. Jon smirked and flipped Damian over his shoulder as he stood, but Damian landed on his feet and cast a sleeping spell on Jon. He woke him up with a water spell, sitting on his chest.

“You got me again! I love you.”

“You're weird.”

“Is that bad?”

“I haven't decided.”

Jon smiled, crinkling his eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Damian laughed. “Sure. I've not even worked up a sweat yet.”

The next time he came to Nanda Parbat he threw down a corpse in front of Damian, face still splattered in blood.

Damian sighed. “Most guys bring flowers.”

“I'm not ‘most guys’”

“Who was he?”

“He criticized your looks so I killed him for you.”

“Jon, I don't care what anyone says about me.”

Jon's eyes flashed red. “I care that he said that. Now he can't say anything like it ever again. What do you think of my technique?”

“Messy, but efficient.”

Jon smiled “Thank you. Do you want to spar?”

“Jon it's 11:38 at night.”

“... Is that a problem?”

“I was sleeping.”

“Oh. Can I join you?”

“Tt. No. Go home.”

Jon pouted. Damian held firm.

“Okay. I'll miss you.”

“Tt. You say such embarrassing things. Goodnight.”

Jon smiled, then quickly leaned in to kiss Damian’s cheek. “Good night, my love.”

Damian slammed the door in his face.

It became somewhat of a pattern for Jon to ambush Damian when he went out on missions, and Damian learned to expect it. Jon was getting faster at killing Damian’s compliment.

“I killed them, so we can be alone!” Jon said cheerfully, gently touching Damian’s cheeks with his bloody fingers and looking at him adoringly.

“Jon. Keep your hands to yourself before I cut them off.” He said, drawing his rune-encrusted sword slightly out of the scabbard.

Jon pouted but removed his hands. “As you wish, my lord. So, what are you out here for today?”

“I was planning on retrieving a magical relic from a temple to the east of here, until you showed up. You’re like a gnat.”

“I can get it for you!”

“Tt, I’m sure you can’t, there are magical booby traps.”

Jon pouted. “I want to do this for you. Please?”

“Jon, I am certain that if you were deathly injured my mother would not permit me to put your body in the lazarus pit.”

“Not even if I died saving your life?”

“Likely not. I shouldn't even be talking to you, you are the enemy.”

Jon grinned. “I guess we both like to do whatever we want.”

“It is human nature to desire freedom.”

“Well yeah but I'm not human.”

“You are as human as you are kryptonian. I wonder, did your father have the same disregard for your mother as with the rest of humanity?”

“I dunno. I was cloned from her dead body and my dad. I never saw them interact. But I know he loved her, and I know he misses her. He's told me it's the only reason he puts up with me.”

“It does not sound like you are very close.”

“We aren't. But he's the only other kryptonian other than Kara Zor-el so y'know, he's important. Not as important as you, of course, but he was previously the most important person in my life.”

“We're here. Don't follow me.”

Jon floated after him. “But I wanna keep you safe! Let me carry you.”

“No– Jon, put me down!”

Jon grinned and flew Damian in. “What's it look like? I can look through the walls for you.”

“Unneeded, I have a map.”

Jon swiped the map from him and read it. “I have a great sense of direction, don't worry.”

“You are infuriating.”

“We cause strong emotions in each other~ how lovely. Okay, hold tight.”

Jon flew quickly down the halls, before being knocked into the wall by a magical hammer. Damian rolled off of him as Jon groaned in pain. “You idiot. Where are we?”

Jon grunted and pointed to their location on the map.

“I can’t even cast a healing spell on you as I have no idea how it will effect you.”

“Don't worry… I have super healing… so the side that hit the wall will be fine. The wall isn't magic, right?”

Damian checked. “Luckily for you, it is regular stone.”

Jon grinned. “Help me up? I wanna help you finish this.”

“It's a bad idea. We need to get you out of here.”

Jon shook his head. “I'm not going. I'll be right behind you. You can handle the magic traps, and I can fly in front of an arrow for you or something.”

“And what if it's a magical arrow?”

“I'll die for you. Did I not mention that?”

“Tt. You're dangerous to have around. But if you're not leaving…” Damian got out a rope and tied them together by their waists with a length of rope in between them. “Stick close to me.”

Jon floated to his feet. “Mkay. Let's go!”

Damian sighed and pulled along a floating Jon. He disabled the traps as they went until they reached the chamber with the artifact. Damian picked it up and the room shook with a deep voice.

“To get out of trouble, face your double. Return the staff to the rack and it will end the attack.”

Smoke billowed out of the air vents and coalesced into shadow versions of Jon and Damian. Damian sighed and took out his katana.

Jon and Damian fought back to back as their shadow versions worked independently. Damian took out his double and Jon defeated his own. The smoke dissipated and Jon cheered.

“We did it! That was awesome! They didn’t stand a chance against our teamwork! Imagine if you came in here with your whole squad! That would have been so much chaos, I really did you a favor by killing them.”

Damian growled and pressed his sword to Jon’s throat, backing him up against the wall. “No. Killing.”

“Mhn, so it's fine if you kill me but not if I kill your squad, who as we've previously established can come back to life whereas I will not?”

“I will kill you if I have to.”

“I would expect nothing less, my prince.” Jon smiled slightly. “So this is what you look like when you're angry. I love the intensity in your eyes.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Are you really trying to de-escalate the situation by flirting?”

Jon shook his head as much as he could. “Just saying what I think, my lord. And I think you look beautiful.”

Damian sighed and withdrew his blade. “You're an idiot.”

Jon smiled cheerily and let Damian drag him along by the rope still attached to his waist. Damian escorted Jon back to the entrance of the temple and cut the rope. “You need to stop killing my team every time I leave the palace. It makes me look incompetent.”

“Do you get in trouble?”

“Not exactly, no–”

“Then it's fine!”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen to me carefully. I am telling you that I want you to stop killing my team. Did you not say that I deserve to get what I want?”

“You're turning my words against me! I just want to be with you. Your assassins would never allow it. If I don't defeat them, I'll die.” Jon whined.

“Then learn non-lethal techniques of taking people down. Practice on those criminals or whatever.”

“You want me to… not kill a criminal?”

“Yes.”

“I can try… can I still be violent?”

“I would appreciate it if you did not scar my team too badly. But outside of that, you can be as brutal as you like as long as they do not die.”

“Okay. I will practice not killing and come back to you. Farewell, my prince.”

“Farewell, lord Jonathan.” Damian said as Jon lifted off into the sky, the cut rope rippling in the wind with his cape.

Jon stormed through the palace towards Damian, knocking people out of the way like flies. “Prince Damian! I came back, as I said I would.”

“Yes, I can see that. Are you here to kill more of my people? You know I cannot allow that, Lord Jonathan.”

Jon cocked his head. “Why would I do that? I don’t care about humans.”

Damian quirked a brow. “I am human.”

“You’re better than everyone else, though.”

“Is that so?”

Jon giggled. “Yeah, I think you could even kill me if you tried. That’s so hot. Look at you, not attacking me right now… so romantic...” Jon sighed.

Damian tutted. “I’m beginning to regret that.”

Jon giggled. “Some days I think I love you so much I'd just let you. Would you like me to do that? Or would you want a fight?” He came closer.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A genuine one. Oh… If I tried to kill you, I hope you’d try to kill me too… maybe we could die at the same time. If I am going to die, I want it to be by your hand. And no one else deserves to take your life away but me, and only if you asked me to.” He giggled, twirling his hair. “I really like having you around, so you would have to convince me first, or else I wouldn’t even let you kill yourself.” Jon hummed. “But I don’t see you convincing me that this world is so terrible as to deserve to be ridden of such beauty.” He stroked Damian’s cheek with a gloved hand, and Damian smacked it away. Jon sighed. “I love you.”

“You don’t know what love means. Your father never showed you.”

“I don’t? Well then, you’ll have to teach me. No one else will do.”

Damian tutted, before sighing as if greatly put upon and offering his ring for Jon to kiss. He did so gladly, kneeling at his feet.

“My prince.” Jon held Damian’s hand by the wrist and turned it over so he could nuzzle into his palm. Damian allowed it. Jon locked his violet eyes on Damian’s emerald ones. He kissed his fingertips one by one.

“You are so devoted to me. It’s perplexing.”

Jon kissed his wrist. “It’s simple; the whole earth should bow to you. You are perfection. Every moment you spend with me is pure gold; my greatest treasures.Or maybe it is that I can take anything in the world that I want, except for you. You are the only thing I could ever rightfully earn. The only goal worth pursuing. Everything was meaningless and dull until I met you, my Prince.”

Damian cupped his cheek. “And what if you got me? What then? Do you truly believe that to be love?”

“I would work to keep you and to serve you, to make you happy.” He smiled. “To annoy you, to pester you, to laugh with you, to see you cry. To hold you. To learn everything there is to know about you until you’ve changed so much that I have to learn you all over again.” He sniffed Damian’s wrist, at the cologne there, and deeper at all the smells that made up Damian. “Intoxicating.” Jon puffed out a laugh. “I don’t know what love is supposed to be like. Have I got it wrong? Do you think it matters? I ask out of curiosity, ‘cause even if it were really something completely morally unacceptable to you, I wouldn't care. It feels better than anything ever has. It’s what I live for.”

Damian’s lips parted in surprise. He schooled his features to ask his next question. “How many people have you killed since I last saw you?”

“None.” Jon smiled. “I’m learning, see? I can do better. I must be of some use to you, haven’t I?”

Damian got a strange look in his eye just then, and Jon became excited at the prospect of learning that expression. “Get up.”

Jon wilted. “Have I offended you, my Prince?”

Damian shook his head. “Stand up. Don’t. Float.”

Jon bowed his head obediently and stood up. Damian stepped close and put his hand on Jon’s shoulder, pulling him down into a slow and gentle kiss. Jon did not know his heart could race so fast. Damian pulled away with an unreadable look in his eye. “Alright, Jon. I accept. I will teach you how to love.”

Jon beamed. “Oh, this is so much better than murder.” He whispered.

Damian smirked. “It is, isn’t it? A lot of things are.” Damian took his hand off of Jon’s shoulder and put both behind his own back.

“Could you excuse me for just one moment? I feel the urge to go fly.”

Damian nodded, and Jon flew off, laughing brightly like a child.

Jon returned a moment later. “I love you! It feels so triumphant!” Jon gasped. “Does this mean we are dating? Boyfriends?!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes. My mother will not be pleased.”

“I can kill her for you, if you wan’t.”

Damian glared at him. “No. No Killing.”

Jon looked at him for a long time. “Okay… Okay. But if someone tries to kill you, I won’t spare them. Even if you get mad at me. Even if you don’t believe my explanation. Even if you can take care of yourself. I promise, I won’t let you die.”

Damian scowled. “Just…kiss me, you idiot.”

Jon flew to his side in an instant, but was much more apprehensive about actually kissing him, so Damian grabbed his head and dragged their mouths together. Jon purred and pulled him closer. Damian nibbled on Jon’s bottom lip and he gasped. “Damian!”

“Yes?”

“You’ve done this before! And I can’t kill whoever you did it with!”

“You don’t have worry, they are already dead.”

“Woah, do you kill people instead of breaking up with them?”

“Tt, no. They betrayed me. I made an example of them.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine killing you if you betrayed me.”

“Hm. I can’t say it was pleasant, but— we are supposed to be kissing right now, Jonathan.” He pulled him in for a few more smooches.

“Is this part of learning how to love?” Jon asked dazedly.

“No, this is for me. I’m just glad I found a way to shut you up.”

“Dami! That’s–” More kissing. “That’s mean. I love it when you’re mean to me.”

They had their arms wrapped around each other by now. Damian rubbed between Jon’s shoulder blades. “You really shouldn’t.”

“Nobody is ever mean to me but you! How could I not like it? I love when you give me attention.”

“To have everyone afraid of you, your whole life… Let’s change that, hm? You are terrifying in the way that you move, talk, smile, laugh, and behave… But we should be able to change at least two of those.”

“Am I so scary, even to you?”

“No, not to me. You’re even… cute.”

“Isn��t that a bad thing?”

Damian furrowed his brow. “No, why would it be?”

“My father always told me to stop acting so cute, that it was distracting.”

“Everything about you is distracting. You’re currently distracting me from my work. I didn’t think you cared.”

Jon smiled. “You’re right, I don’t. And like I said, you can be mean to me, as long as you don’t ignore me. Well, even if you tried to ignore me, I’d cover your eyes until you had to acknowledge me. Or… maybe I could bite you, like Krypto used to do when I was little and I’d ignore him. Hm… come to think of it, you did just say I was distracting, I’m sure there are lots of ways I could get your attention. I like being distracting.”

Damian arched a brow. “Surely you’ll allow me to get my work done.”

“Well, that’s not ignoring me ‘cause you’re mad! So it’s fine. I can just watch you.”

“Do you watch me when you leave?”

Jon nodded. “And I strain my ears to listen. I love the sound of your voice, my prince.”

“Oh Jonathan, your life cannot only be me. I want you to stay in the palace so I can show you other things you might find meaningful.”

“Like what?”

“Friendship, learning to cook, making art. Things that are worthwhile because of the struggle. I think you will enjoy pottery.”

“What's so interesting about making pots? Plenty of people can do that.”

“They can do it because they put in the work, and they are better than you at it. Don't you want to impress me with an excellent piece of pottery?”

“You would like it if I gave you something I made?”

“Jon, the only person who can make the art that you would make is you. If you do not make it, it will never be known. You can give me something no one else can.”

“Who cares? Everyone will say they love it so I don't singe their eyebrows off…”

Damian arched a brow. “I won't.”

Jon blushed and smiled at Damian. “That's right, you're not afraid to tell me what you think. You're my equal.”

“I may even decide to encourage you with kisses.”

Jon rumbled a purr. “I love you. I'm going to make you the best pot ever.”

Damian kissed him again. “Good. I eagerly await it.”

[onlymingyus]

Juice (Patreon Exclusive)

pairing; kim mingyu x choi seungcheol x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; unprotected sex, some dom/sub dynamics, dom!seungcheol, dom!mingyu, sub!reader, brat!reader, impact play, hand on the throat, fingering, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, creampie, cum eating/cumplay, some mlm (depending on how you feel about what happens adding the warning just in case), strength kink, manhandling, reader is smaller than mingyu and seungcheol, reader works out, mingyu carries the reader, pinning down/against wall, bulge kink, big dick!mingyu and seungcheol, pet names/degrading names, teasing, aftercare, talks about polyamory 

w/c; 533 (this teaser) -- 7k and some change (full fic on Patreon)

requested; no

a/n; this one is a lot -- as you can see from the warnings -- but I had a lot of fun writing it. if you need someone to blame, you can put that blame on one choi seungcheol and his gym thirst traps. man doesn't even have to post actual pictures, just has to say im lifting 100 kg and my brain goes brrrr. also I am posting a day early this week due to my work schedule -- working overtime due to people being out, so I have no other choice. 

this fic is a Patreon Exclusive subscribe to my Patreon and click here

“So, you do pay attention to us?”

Looking down you feel the warmth rush over your cheeks at the man’s question and his friend’s lingering gaze. Seungcheol laughs, his fingers drumming against the bench under him for a moment before he sits up and leans forward like Mingyu to look at you more closely.

“Why are you being all shy? We aren’t going to bite you, sweetheart.”

When you take a deep breath, your eyes lifting to meet his eyes at his words, Seungcheol laughs once more with a tilt of his head. He could see the look in your eye. You were turned on. He had seen the look before when you were watching them work out. They had been watching you just as much as you had watched them. You weren’t nearly as inconspicuous as you thought you were.

“Mm, not unless you want us to.”

Mingyu sucks in a breath as his eyes drop to your thighs, watching you press them together. This was going better than he had expected it to. He had hoped that this would be the opening conversation that could lead to another conversation at a later date but now you were acting like a cat in heat, rubbing your thighs together. Mingyu couldn’t help the way his mind wandered to how you were probably wet right now.

Taking a deep breath, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes almost defiantly in an attempt to play it cool. You weren’t some cheap whore that could be so easily seduced, at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. It was just too bad that your body was betraying every sensible thought that was going through your brain as the men in front of you undressed you in their minds.

“Are you going to climb back on that silly machine or would you rather leave and work on your cardio in another way?”

Scoffing at Seungcheol’s words, you open your water bottle to take another sip only to miss your mouth because of how flustered you actually are. Mingyu groans under his breath, watching the water trickle down your chin to your throat and finally your chest towards the top of your tank top. Seungcheol on the other hand just smirks before leaning forward to swipe his thumb under your bottom lip to wipe away some of the water before speaking again.

“Messy baby, answer me.”

Leaning into his touch, you find yourself nodding before you even realize it. Seungcheol smiles, nodding along with you, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip briefly before he pulls his hand away. Watching the interaction, Mingyu takes a breath and lets it out slowly. It was his turn to play it cool as he glanced around the gym thankful that the section you three were in was less crowded.

“Our place or yours, babe?”

Turning your head towards Mingyu, you finally take in a deep breath as you feel Seungcheol take your water bottle out of your hand. The question seems to confuse you for a moment, but a flash of his pretty smile, his sharp canines on display for you seems to bring you back into the moment.

“Mine.”

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[epiphyllous]

when morning comes (Astarion/Reader) [1]

With your bleeding heart and altruistic bravery, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his best plan of action is to seduce you. All he has to do is not fall for you-- a feat easier said than done.

-or-

(Where were you ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he needed you? How dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

Word Count: ~10k Notes: Astarion/Reader, Paladin!Reader, AFAB, gender-neutral "you", a study in Astarion's romance route + added features, [switches to your POV], annoyance to lovers, fall first/fall harder, slight Lae'zel/Shadowheart, Wyll/Lae'zel, Halsin/Reader; may have some descriptors of my Tav but generally no specifics (let me have my brown eyes), NSFW contains Virgin!Reader, trauma related to Astarion's past [Part 2]

[Act I: Druid Groves]

From the start, you and Astarion chafed at each other's presence. Granted, he had threatened you at knife point, quick to suspect you were of the illithid colony, and you had responded in kind with a painful headbutt. But surprisingly enough, that had nearly no consequence to the relationship compared to the vastly different way the two of you engaged with the world.

"Do you always just... do things for other people for no reward?" Astarion asks you disdainfully when you promise Zevlor you would speak to Kagha. It's the third favor you've picked up in the last hour. "Seems very... inefficient."

"Yes?" You reply, confused as though he were the strange one. (In his humblest opinion, you're the lunatic who decides to help everyone who asks despite the arguably more pressing issue of their hostile parasite.) "I mean, helping them is going to help us in the long-run. We need information and supplies, and they have both of that."

A half-truth at best. Astarion has seen you soothe stray animals and children on the beaten road, help wayward allies, and offer up your amenities without hesitation. Helping others happens to align with your goal rather than the other way around. He feels his mouth twist in annoyance.

Astarion sniffs at your answer, and you give him the massive eye roll you habitually do every time the two of you argue. "Would it kill you to help them out a little?" You say, "It's not like it's completely out of our way to do it."

You make it sound so simple, he thinks bitterly. He glances at the sword at your hip and the shield on your back and wonders if you could ever understand how it feels to be powerless. It would explain your naivety, the way you cling onto doing the 'right' thing, your paladin vow to protect the weak no matter how foolhardy it may be. 

(Where were you, he thinks, ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he was still surviving on the scraps of whatever Cazador decided to provide for him that night? Where were you when his cruel master carved into his skin, a painter on a screaming canvas? When he was buried underground, no longer alive but still living, until he clawed his way up with bloody hands, only to find out his body and soul belonged to another? When he was compelled by vampiric thrall to lead his first victim of thousands to their death?

And how dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

"It's a matter of principle, darling." Astarion simpers, "I, for one, am not the type to play hero."

He expects a sneer, the silent treatment-- those he knows easily how to respond to. The gauging look you give him, though, and a thin veneer of frustration just underneath before it dissipates gives him pause. "Well," you say mildly, "we can agree to disagree. You're coming along anyways so let's just get going, yeah?"

Astarion follows you then with no comeback in mind, only a question as to how far your patience can go.

.

.

.

It is with great hesitation and no small amount of begrudgement that Astarion admits he has never been one for planning. After all, why hope for a future that will never occur? What future does he have when every move he makes is in accordance to someone else's will, every decision made never his own? 

When Astarion decided to travel with the unfortunate duo (now group) with similar illithid fates, he did not anticipate how difficult it would be to hide his affliction of a vampire. For the brief moment in the sun, he thought perhaps that because he was immune to daylight, his thirst for blood would have also disappeared. Imagine his surprise, nights after, when he finds himself starving and with no inconspicuous way to feed himself. 

There is always someone on the lookout for goblins or other enemies alike. There have been few times he can sneak out without calling attention to himself, especially for such a long absence as hunting for prey would be. Astarion can feel himself grow weak over the course of a few days, and though he briefly thinks about telling you the truth about his identity, he is resistant. 

Good heroes tend to hunt creatures of the night like him. Considering his blatant disregard for those you choose to protect, he isn't sure he will continue to be under your protection if he is outed. Astarion finds traveling as a pack to be too conveniently safe, but he is so, so hungry. In the midst of his hunger, anyone's blood will do, but it is yours that tempt him most: healthy, righteous, and pure-hearted. He has never been allowed to feed on a thinking creature, and at this point, he isn't sure if he should, considering the risks.

But Astarion is tempted by the smell of your blood shed during a particularly fierce battle, and as he feels his hands tremble, he concludes that he must find a way to feed tonight.

You always, without fail, set your tent up near the fire. It is where he finds himself creeping over your bedroll at the dead of night only to find that you have woken up to look up at him in shock. (He has never been one for planning.)

"...Shit," Astarion lets slip out, backing away. You stand at the ready, eyes boring into him as you come to the realization of what he is. "No, no- it's not what it looks like."

 "...And what exactly is it supposed to look like then?" You ask tensely, and Astarion feels the situation quickly run away from him.

"I wasn't going to hurt you!” He puts his hands up and swallows. “I just needed, well, blood."

"You're the reason why that boar on the side of the road had no blood.” You realize, narrowing your eyes. "How many things have you hunted without us knowing?” You accuse, “People?"

"No!" Astarion exclaims, "No people. Never any people. I can sustain myself on animals, kobolds even-- but it is not enough. Not when we're fighting every day like this."

He sees a flicker of sympathy in your eyes and hope builds in his chest. "I feel so weak," he pleads. "If I just had a little bit of blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please."

You don't relax but you don't try to attack him either. Astarion considers that a winning chance. "Have you told anyone that you're a vampire?"

"They're more likely to ram a stake through my ribs than anything," Astarion mutters. "At best– even for you– you'd say no unless you trusted me." He looks up at you and sees the way your eyes look into him for the truth. "And you can trust me. I wouldn't want to harm anyone in this camp." And it is technically the truth, though Gale tests his patience sometimes. Even he cannot promise that he wouldn't betray everyone at the drop of the hat if the situation begs for it, but this is a completely different matter at the moment. 

Your gaze is unfaltering, the silence palpable as the two of you look at each other. Astarion feels his palms sweat as he awaits your judgment and for the proverbial hammer to possibly fall on his head. 

"Okay," you say instead. "Alright. I trust you. As long as you don't try biting me again without permission, it's fine. Can you promise me that at least?"

"Really?" Astarion knows this is what he could ever hope for, but a part of him is baffled that you would ever think to trust him. He supposes your foolhardy compassion has its benefits-- though he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit there was a part of him that was rather... flattered by your trust. "Yes- yes, of course. Thank you."

He presses his lips in thought. If you were so willing to put your faith in him, then perhaps it would not hurt to ask. "If I could ask you to trust me just a little further..." He says, "I just need a little blood. I won't take anything more than I need. Please."

Astarion can see the hesitation in your eyes when he asks. Are you weighing your trust in him, he wonders. Or are you worried about your safety, the benefits versus the risks? It would make sense-- you really shouldn't. But a moment before you respond, he somehow knows that you would. 

[He looks so tired, you think, heart clenching with sympathy. You wonder how you've missed it for this long or if he's that good at pretending otherwise in the presence of others. It could be both-- Astarion has shown to be a great performer, and you are one of his best audiences. You find it difficult to argue against letting him bite you; the anticipated pain, the possible negative effect, the case that his hunger is too much for you to quench all pales in comparison to what good you would do for him. 

You are halfway to being smitten already, and you cannot deny yourself this.

But you are not naive. You are not fearless. For whatever trust you give to Astarion, you are afraid of the fact that if he betrays you in this, you can never go back to how it was before.]

"Promise me you'll stop if I tell you to," you tell him quietly. 

He acquiesces quickly. Of course, he will, he promises, only just enough. You lay back down at his suggestion, body tense in anticipation. He does not let that feeling linger too long, seizing his chance before you decide to change your mind. He buffets your body with his arms before he sinks his teeth into your outstretched neck. 

You taste better than he could possibly have imagined. 

To think he fed solely on mice before-- bog water in comparison to the sweet red of your blood, invigorating and undeniably delicious. Astarion gets another mouthful and groans, feeling strength return, warmth pooling into his belly. If bears and boars were the main course, then you are the mouth-salivating dessert– irresistibly delectable and leaving him wanting for more.

Your body trembles underneath him, your hand clenched into his shirt as a counterweight to the pain. Your pulse bounds underneath his tongue, the small gasps you cannot suppress resounds into his ears. This, too, puts feeding in a different plane than before, an extra level of appeal that can only be experienced with thinking creatures. Perhaps it is you in particular that adds another layer to the pleasure. Having you at his mercy, taking what you so graciously offered with ravenous hunger: power courses through him for more reasons than one.

[Your heart beats as fast as a rabbit's, fear and adrenaline powering you in the same manner. Or, if you were being honest, anticipation and a little bit of excitement fuels it as well as Astarion climbs on top of you, hunger in his eyes. 

It is a more literal type of hunger, but it is an intense look either way that leaves you frozen like a deer in headlights. 

The bite itself is more shocking than it is painful. You barely muffle your exclamation, unused to the feeling of someone so intimately close combined with the instinctive fear that accompanies the loss of blood. You hold onto Astarion without thought, and you squeeze your eyes and bite your lips as he takes your blood in with every suck. 

As scared as you may be, you are undeniably aroused from the feeling of it all-- the numbness that gently overtakes your mind, the light, floaty feeling of pleasure of the bloodloss combined with the intimacy of someone you’ve always been attracted to. The knowledge that he is gorging himself on you, taking pleasure from you, makes your blood run hotter than it has any right to in this situation. 

And then, you feel a switch flip, and the lightness becomes disorienting, and the numbness bleeds into coldness. Panic starts climbing up your throat. You let yourself think for the briefest moment if Astarion will let go on his own, but you know you will not last long enough to wait. Worry gnaws at you at this thought, and you can only hope that Astarion is true to his word when you tell him to stop.

And he does. Perhaps it is the feeling that you have placed your trust in the right person that has felt the best out of everything that has happened tonight.]

"Astarion-" he hears you grit out, "that's enough."

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course.” It takes but a moment for Astarion to register it before removing his fangs from your neck. He sees blood trickle from the punctures and he bemoans the waste as he pulls away. Next time– if there is a next time– he'll be neater, he thinks. He watches as you breathe just as hard as him, eyes slightly glazed over, and he barely resists the urge to lick his lips. 

He stands from you to give you space, and you slowly sit up, looking at him with an emotion he can't quite place. It concerns him little at the moment with the strongest blood he's ever consumed in two millennia coursing through him.

“That was…” Astarion begins, breathless with adrenaline, “Amazing.” He delicately wipes the blood from the side of his mouth, an irrepressible smile on his face.

“Hope that helped,” you say, and he almost laughs at the understatement of two centuries.

“It very much did.” Astarion breathes in deeply. “My mind is finally clear. I feel… strong,” he nearly purrs. Happy.”

“Looking forward to seeing you fight then,” you say, hand at your neck as the punctures gradually close. You sigh, wiping your bloody hands onto the patch of grass. “Going out to hunt?” You ask like any other day.

“I am, darling.” He stands tall, head held high with a confidence he has not felt in ages. To think this is what he's been missing out on… “You're invigorating, but I'll need to get something more… filling,” he tells you, glancing back.

You give him a flippant wave of the hand, and he isn't sure if you are too tired to be wary of him or uncaring of the risk considering what you allowed him to do. “Good hunting,” you say genuinely before yawning. 

“I will. And-” You turn to him then, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion but still alert. Astarion pauses for a moment. “This is a gift, you know,” he says. “I won't forget it.”

He walks off into the forest after and finds easy prey to feast on. It's a shame it does not taste as good as you did, but he will make do and ride out the feeling of power for as long as he can. It is when he returns to camp with you fast asleep by the fire that Astarion realizes the emotion on your face was relief: relief that he had stopped when you had asked, and that he kept to his word. 

What a fragile thing trust is, to be put to the breaking point at a single moment in time. What if he had continued to consume and drink you dry? He suspects it would have rather dire consequences to your mortality and even worse effects to his relationship with you. It would be unsalvageable, he realizes, if he had not stopped when you had asked. For some things may be forgiven, but this would be reprehensible. 

Astarion finds that he understands you too well for his liking. How many times has he not been able to give consent? Wanted to say 'no' but forced to say yes? (Not knowing now how to say 'no' at all?)

For the sake of his own livelihood (the camp would kill him for your death), his budding relations with you, and a part of him that yearns for what he should have had, Astarion is glad that he was not greedy tonight-- and, as the day comes, for the following nights to come.

The pitchforks and torches do not come the next morning. Maybe it is because everyone else has their equally dangerous secret to hide or because of your influence on the camp. You are more concerned at how you would help him feed than afraid that he will hurt anyone. 

"Why, isn't it my favorite traveling companion," he says to you when you approach him.

"You mean tastiest,” you say back, and he knows you are truly well and beyond hard feelings if you can joke about it.

"Well, I suppose that as well.” He tells you, “Though you have been the only one I've bitten so there is no competition, really."

And to his surprise, telling you about Cazador, his ill-begot fate as a vampire spawn and its subsequent diet, is easier than he would have expected. You listen with a sympathetic but otherwise neutral ear that makes it easy for him– and he suspects everyone else– to confess their circumstances to you. He's rather surprised he's been able to “resist” for this long. Even Gale has confessed he has a literal living bomb inside him in the little time they've all spent together as a group. 

(It goes to show how much everyone has grown to trust you; even Astarion is starting to see what everyone else sees in you.)

“I don't mind you taking my blood once in a while,” you instruct him, “but you can't just do it to an innocent person.”

“And how about a guilty person?” Astarion asks slyly, gleefully watching as you saddle next to him with a similar smile. 

“Free real estate, I suppose,” you say nonchalantly. “Just ask before you bite me?”

“No more late night surprises, you have my word on that.” He smiles, fangs bared, and you don't even blink at the sight of them. 

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In the druid grove, you pick up a few more favors from the locals, though at least you have begun to ask for aid for the road. Not exactly payment, though you are offered a reward anyways. Astarion thinks you are either very lucky people are desperate for help or very charming in that innocent, eager to do good type of way that compels people to be generous. It is not unlike Wyll, who joins your group of illithid-afflicted companions, as the Blade of Frontiers. 

Naturally, the two of you get along as like-minded individuals. Gale, too, gravitates toward you for your compassion, and Shadowheart trusts you for perhaps the same reasons. Even Lae'zel, who you often have problems speaking to without feeling intimidated, has come to begrudgingly accept you as the de facto leader of the group. You are, as Astarion suspected, strong in battle as you are in personality. 

He often forgets both, but he cannot be blamed. After he witnesses you stand up to Lae'zel for the sake of an intimidated tiefling, he sees you lose an argument against a squirrel. Astarion sees you send goblins off rooftops and speak to trolls with confidence, and then he watches as you ask him to unlock a barn door with raunchy sex noises simply out of morbid curiosity. 

It is in these moments-- apart from your heroism and startling sense of morality-- that you and Astarion are often on the same page. As long as it is not from the needy, you don't find it a problem to loot. (He thinks practicality plays a role in disturbing dead bodies for money and items, and your vow says nothing against it.) If it's for the sake of peace, you don't mind spinning half-truths and lies. (The lies he personally thinks you need to work on more but he is a master of deception so perhaps there is no comparison with him.)

Your curiosity knows no bounds, and it is in this, both you and Astarion take cheerful glee in raking chaos. 

"I don't know what I expected!" You say almost cheerily after the group defeats the unlikely couple of bugbear and ogre after purposely interrupting their very loud lovemaking. 

Shadowheart gives you a raised eyebrow that has you sheepishly grin at her, and Astarion lets out a laugh. "Well, I certainly had a guess, but finding out was very interesting indeed."

"Interesting... is certainly a way to describe the scene we just witnessed," Gale says dryly. Astarion catches your eyes before you smile slyly. 

Innocently, you comment, "I wonder how the mechanics worked with the height difference-"

Gleefully, Astarion is quick to join in, watching Gale balk at the topic, “Well, with the way she was on her knees-” 

"Some things need not be pondered!"

That is when Astarion realizes that as long as the world stops begging for your help, the two of you get along quite well. If anything, Astarion finds your presence and comments most amusing out of everyone in camp. Gale is exceedingly verbose and other times awkward. Lae'zel Astarion isn't sure knows the meaning of joking, though her violent tendencies are right up his alley. Shadowheart-- as it turns out and makes total sense-- is a worshiper of Shar and therefore an automatic stick in the mud. 

Wyll waxes far too much about justice, and Karlach, when they find her and proceed to not kill her despite Wyll's initial request, is the next best thing though he is still wary of how hot she burns. You, however, have the humor and wit to match every ridiculous situation they encounter, and if anything, Astarion must give you that. God knows how he'd survive the boredom of camp and not being arms deep in gore without having someone to gossip with. 

The two of you agree the most when it comes to other topics, like Mystra's treatment of Gale, how good Wyll looks with horns, feelings about Gods. It makes for great and easy conversations though the two of you are also quick to snark if there is a disagreement. Astarion admits his words were sharp in the beginning (and you gave it right back until you just mellowed out) but he eventually relaxed when his role in camp solidified after his vampiric reveal.

And what a gift your blood was; Astarion counts his lucky stars that you continue to offer your neck to him as long as it is only yours he bites-- with permission, of course.

He was almost beginning to relax when a gur comes, asking for him.

Luckily enough, it seems this Gandrel has no idea what he looks like, so the two of you can play innocent together. You and Astarion give each other a discrete look before you go back to talking to the monster hunter. It must be Cazador, he seethes. Who else would put a Gur on his tracks acres away from Baldur's Gate? 

"And what did you want to do with this vampire spawn?" You ask innocuously.

"I would like to capture him."

"Capture? Not kill? Does someone want him alive?" You question, and Astarion must give you this: you are an excellent conversationalist, to seek more without giving much at all. Your eyes widen in what can be assumed as surprise, though they remain calculating. "You said so yourself: even vampire spawn are dangerous. Why would you accept a job to capture him?"

The gur shuffles his feet for a moment, chewing on his words. Astarion watches in secretive awe as you urge the hunter to trust you with unbidden information. "Well... It's not a request from an outside source..." He trails off, "We... have questions we were hoping he would answer."

Now that's curious, Astarion thinks. What would a monster hunter need for a spawn besides its demise? He knows you have the same question when he glances over at you as you watch on thoughtfully.

"Were you hoping to capture it to get to the vampire lord or something?" You ask, "Is that something that would even work?"

"We have little leads besides this vampire spawn, if I can be frank." He sighs and Astarion watches as he unravels the truth before you. "It's our children, you see. They've been captured.”

You are ever sympathetic to the Gur's plight--genuinely so. You hold no qualms keeping Astarion's name from your mouth but you speak to the Gur and provide him with advice and information you have received from Astarion. What a cheeky pup you are, playing double agent without batting an eye. Astarion feels like forgiving you for taking away the opportunity to get rid of the monster hunter once and for all just for the show of your wit and guile. 

Though Astarion thinks you could afford to be more ambitious. If you could have perhaps a little creativity in deciding what you want to do with the little tadpole in your brain or the absolutist cult, Astarion is sure the two of you would get along more.

"I don't know how the tadpole will change me," you admit with unexpected vulnerability. "I don't want to give them more power over me, and I don't know if feeding them will let them."

"Well..." Astarion pauses, scoffing at your response before he can accept the fact the two of you have more in common that he would rather believe. He'd rather not lose what he barely got back as well, he thinks. "I suppose there is reason to hesitate so maybe I'll wait until some other brave soul decides to give it a go." He gives you a look before continuing, "Try not to convince the others too much. I'm not too eager to be the first and only one to eat a tadpole."

You shrug noncommittally, promising nothing. Astarion barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. Paladins. 

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.

.

Considering the dire straits in which you are bound and the rocky start the two of you had, Astarion would not have imagined the relationship with you to progress in this manner. Having you trust him was already beyond what was expected, especially after revealing his vampiric origins. Giving him your blood was a gift that he could hardly believe happened. One can imagine his surprise when he finds out you are charmed by his wits, finding genuine joy in his wry commentary. 

For god knows why, you have grown fond of him-- he can see it in the way you provide him with the best equipment, the way you seek his presence. The way you laugh freely around him and turn your back to him during battle, believing he will defend it. Though arriving at this point was coincidental, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his next step is to seduce you. 

Astarion sees your laughter, but he also sees the way you throw him glances when you think the others aren't looking. You instinctively lean closer to him when he is near and when he speaks, your eyes are quick to find him. You are attracted to him– and he means to capitalize on it and make you feel as though you would rather die than have him get hurt.

It's a simple plan, really. The seduction comes easy; all he needs to do is stay unattached, so if things go wrong, he'll find someone else to take cover under. 

(The plan should be simple-- he has learned tactics that would put any to their knees, tricked hundreds of people of his affections. But something about doing this to you-- this performance-- makes him uneasy. 

It's a shame, he finds himself thinking. He thinks he was beginning to like you too.

The thought lingers only for a moment. He is quick to push it from his mind; that too is a learned habit.)

Astarion finds his opportunity after the goblin camp has been slain and the tieflings throw a celebration in thanks. 

The wine is mediocre at best, but there is much of it to be shared, so the party is still in full blast when the moon is overhead. He finds himself a secluded part of camp to sip at the sorry excuse of a liquor, discomfited by the praise they give him for participating in the fight against the goblins. 

You are unused to the praise as well, humble as you are, but you are nearly glowing from the joy you feel as you make merry with those you have befriended. The rest of the party, even companions who were ambivalent at best at the idea of helping the tiefling immigrants, are satisfied with the outcome despite the lack of progress with removing the tadpole. He would say otherwise– the trade of goblin lives for tieflings hardly makes a difference, and surely the goblins would throw a wilder party than this. He says as much to you when, faithfully, you find your way to him to talk.

“All I want,” he tells you, “is a little bit of fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You snort into your drink. “Knowing you, it could be.”

“Don't be so sour,” he croons. “I like a good time as much as anyone.” His eyes fall half-lidded as he looks at you. You raise your brow at him, noticing the change in tone as he continues. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment."

The look you give him is partly apprehensive and the other amused. He knows that glimmer of recognition of what he is asking, though you are quick to hide it for plausible deniability. "...What do you mean by that?"

Astarion, with practiced ease, leans in, watching as you instinctively do the same before he purrs out, "Why, sex, of course. Experiencing a little death, figuratively speaking, is quite fun, wouldn't you agree?"

Your face is already flushed from the alcohol, but your cheeks on high brighten in the dimly lit torches at his tent. It's evident you didn't expect him to suggest something like that, especially to you, though you are not completely unwilling if the lack of immediate denial is of any indication.

You are rendered speechless though; a first for you considering how quick you often are at retorting back at his comments. It makes Astarion think of two conclusions: you are either inexperienced or incredibly shocked at his offer. Both are familiar, though the thought of your naivety extending into sexual relations does, at the very least, give him pause.

It is not as if he has never been someone's first. Virgins are often most eager to lose or prove themselves in someone so willing to offer bliss. If you are one, well– the shy ones are always the ones that are easier to fell.

He prepares himself to drop a few one-liners to convince you to take the offer, but you glance away for a moment before you turn toward him, face unreadable.

"If you're down," you say. You smile.  "I don't mind."

"Until later then," Astarion replies easily. "Wouldn't want the others to interrupt, unless you're interested in that."

At this, you laugh, and he relaxes. "Definitely not. Though, I'm curious." You ask, "Am I your first choice, or am I just the first to say 'yes'?"

Astarion finds the best lies are in truths. "Lae'zel was quite eager to find a partner earlier. Luckily she and Wyll are in quite the agreement for tonight as far as I can hear and I have no desire to get in between whatever the githyanki has in store." He smiles slyly at you. "Besides, I couldn't help but overhear you flirting with our druid earlier so I at least knew you were in the, ah, mood. Never imagined you'd be quite so bold." 

"It's the alcohol," you mutter, rubbing your cheek. You take the wine from his hand and take another swig. "Also, I didn't realize he'd be coming with us so that was a surprise. Almost as much of a surprise as you asking me." You glance at him briefly. "Well, sort of."

Astarion feels a familiar prickle of suspicion as he stares at you, already unamused at whatever dirty truths you have prepared for him. "What is it now?"

You quip a half smile, eyes bright under the torch fire. (Your eyes are brown.) "Nothing," you say teasingly. "Guess you do like me a little bit."

Astarion watches as you walk away, feeling less victorious than he imagined himself to be.

The flirting, the seduction, the fight for survival is familiar. The banter, the bickering, the camaraderie between the two of you is beginning to be just as familiar. Astarion feels just the slightest bit unease at how true your words are. 

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Astarion has much to prepare for the night, so it is lucky that you take center stage of the party, as the savior of the grove. You take part in the merriment and make conversations, taking genuine interest in the stories others tell. The tieflings keep you busy for the most part, but Astarion is nothing if not good at building anticipation, putting as much heat into his gaze as possible when you do have time to take a glance at him. 

You are quick to focus your attention elsewhere after giving him a look, but the smile on your face that stays means that at least he is always on your mind. In some ways, he has missed this... coyness, the thrill of the chase. The results of his previous endeavors never fail to unease him, but with you, it is different. The familiarity of seduction comes with a little bit more fun knowing you are not going to be his victim- not like it usually is. 

"Hey, still not joining in on the fun?" You suddenly ask him, your hand gently prying at his arm so you can hook onto him. You have gotten more drunk in the time you were away, the warmth of your skin seeping into him from where you've attached yourself. Your face is almost comically red if not for the carefree smile on your face and the affection that betrays on your face when you look at him.

Something in his chest warms at the sight of you.

"Unfortunately, the tieflings' company has not become any more appealing since you've been gone. Besides," Astarion says slyly, "the only thing I've been thinking of is how you'll taste later when we're alone."

You let out a huff, turning your head away with a half-embarrassed and pleased smile. "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

"Not at all," he replies easily. "It's the truth, after all." 

You look at him as though you don't believe a word, but you are charmed by them anyway if your expression is of any indication. As conscientious as you normally are, the alcohol and the fact you are delving into his territory of seduction puts you at a disadvantage. Even if you are the one that knows him best in the camp, you are not attuned to every secret. Half-truths and lies come easier than anything else, if only because it allows him to keep his distance.

When the camp is cleared and you linger to bid the others farewell, Astarion slips away to the lake to prepare. It is almost ritualistic the way he cleans himself, the cold waters readying himself for what comes next. He thinks of what lines to tell you, how he should appear to you to best whet your appetite. Are you chaste or are you more animalistic? Would you prefer to take a dominant or submissive role? Astarion cannot tell these things about you based on his interactions with you, so he can only rely on his flexibility and years of experience to get him through it. 

(For a brief moment, he wonders if this is something he must do. What if you would protect him regardless of how this night goes? You are compassionate, sympathetic to the plight of others-- goodness flows within your veins like the light that beacons from your holy sword. Could that light not shield him too, without his body as an offering?

But gods are rarely so magnanimous, no matter the sacrifices. Astarion will not take his chances even with you. 

Even then-- even then, he wants this night to be at least a little enjoyable. It is with you, after all. If there is someone who can allow him to feel safe, it is you.)

Moonlight beams above, and Astarion hears your quiet footsteps come closer. His expression masks into something more suitable for seduction and he steps from the shadows of the trees to greet you. 

Upon seeing him, you yelp in surprise and- god, can you blame him?- he jumps as well. 

"What in God's name-"

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't expect to see you half naked all of a sudden!" You stammer, "I mean, not all of a sudden, I guess. Your... state of undress didn't cross my mind as something I'd see right away."

It is reckless when his mark is so close to fruition, but he finds himself dropping the act, hand at his hips in an instinctual indignant huff you seem to invoke from him easily. "Darling, what did you expect after the invitation I gave?" Your sheepish grin is your only answer, and Astarion feels a quick flash of annoyance at how easily you are able to derail his thoughts. 

Quick to redirect the conversation though, Astarion angles his body sensually, lowering his voice in the manner he knows can send shivers down his victims. "Perhaps you'd prefer if you could strip me down yourself?"

Like clockwork, your cheeks flush pink even as you roll your eyes in attempts to salvage your embarrassment. "Only you'd be able to pull those lines out of nowhere," you mutter, and Astarion allows himself the satisfaction when you approach him, eyes looking down at him appreciatively.

Only a small gap lies between the two of you now, your dark eyes meeting his. You are waiting on him; Astarion does not hesitate. 

He takes your face into his hands and brings his lips to yours. Your eyes close almost immediately to the touch as you give into him, face tilting up to align with him and mouth parted to allow him in. Though Astarion knows not how you incline to be normally, he knows that this night, he's the one in control.

Your hands curl into the front of his chest as though you do not know where to touch, so he helps you along and pulls you in until there is nothing separating you. Astarion can see the way your eyes widen when you can feel his arousal beneath his trousers, and recognizes your interest with the way your pupils darken your eyes. 

There is a slight satisfaction in seeing you this way. As stubborn as you are, you are malleable in his touch, opening up to his hands like a flower in bloom. He lifts you up against the tree, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist in response, and your little giggle morphs into a gasp of pleasure when he grinds into you fully. 

It is probably instinctual the way you arch your back and bare your neck to him. It isn't in him to resist the temptation to bury his nose into the crook, nipping at the sensitive skin between your collar bone. And this is when he feels your hands, that were curled into his hair, push him back slightly, and his stomach drops. 

He should be worried that he made a mistake and think about how to put you back on track with him. His safety depends on his success, after all. Despite himself, Astarion feels more hurt at your rejection, your mistrust, than anything. (Since when did that ever matter to him?)

"I wasn't going to bite, you know," he says, hoping nothing in his voice gives anything away.

"No, that's not it," you tell him, and your hand is quick to cup his face reassuringly. He finds himself soothed by your gesture though he wishes he was not in need of it in the first place. "I trust you not to without my say. I mean, you probably could tonight if you wanted..." You trail off. "I just wanted to let you know something before we go any further." 

The offer for blood pleases him more than it should, as does the affirmation of your trust. "Whatever you want to say, darling, I doubt it'll deter me from having my way with you tonight," Astarion says, eyes half-lidded and staying strong despite the undignified huff you give him. 

"Well, alright," you say as you try to save face. You brush over his collarbone with your thumb as you think. You're nervous, he realizes, over whatever you have to say, and he can't begin to guess what you could possibly reveal that would be of such import to leave you in such a state. "I... have never-- this is my first time. Having sex," you say, and Astarion does his utmost not to show any semblance of surprise. 

"I hope," you continue, "that's okay? You'll probably have to show me a lot of things but, you know..."

You are a virgin after all. Astarion had some thoughts on the matter but he never truly took stock in it considering how rare it is to save yourself for this long. You were modest but far from prude, and you had thoughts of debauchery like any other in the camp. But you are of untouched flesh. Inexperienced. And yet you accepted him to be your first? 

You are not so unique that he has never bedded someone like you, but it does tweak his heart in a way it has not for a long while that you are giving yourself to him as a result of his seduction. You feel self conscious about this inexperience, and it would be easy to take advantage of that for his benefit. Typical, even.

The thought does not sit well with him.

"I know you wanted a fun night," you tell him, eyes downcast when he does not respond. "So I get it if you're not interested anymore since I'm probably going to be a lot of work-"

"And what’s to say we cannot have fun while discovering something new?" Astarion interrupts in a momentary panic. He's not on autopilot but he's not stopping the night from happening despite your deference- so what is he doing? "Darling, I'm rather concerned you want to spend your first night with a vampire-" He needs to get back on script.

He recites the words in his mind. Isn't this what you want? To lose yourself in me? And all he has to do is say it-

"No, that's not-" You talk back, frowning. "You being a vampire has nothing to do with it. When you asked, I said yes because I trust you, vampire or not." 

To have and to hold, he thinks, and wonders how you have survived for so long being so willfully trusting when at times you should not. "Then trust me, darling," he says, heat building in his chest. He lifts you up again and growls. "Let's have some fun. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"If that's what you want," you breathe out, and Astarion claims your mouth with his own.

You let out a sigh when he begins to undress you, his dexterous hands easily removing every lace and button to leave you bare. You giggle into his kiss, and Astarion lets himself smile, being pulled along as you roll on top of him playfully, mischief in your eyes. You full on laugh when he rolls you back over, uncaring of the outdoors, bearing your neck for him to bite. 

Astarion doesn't remember the last time he's had fun doing this. And it is fun- always has been with you, he realizes, a type of levity that he has not experienced with anyone else. He takes leisure in biting you, sucking a mouthful of blood that has him moaning into your neck as he rolls his hips into you. Your hand gently cards through his hair as he bites, and true to his word (only taking just enough), he pulls back with blood on his lips before swooping down to share in his bounty. 

He cannot help but laugh when you stick out your tongue at him, nose wrinkling at the metallic taste of blood that is otherwise sweet to him. He pulls his remaining clothes off and smirks when he sees you follow the line of sight down to his hardened cock in compulsive curiosity. 

"Like what you see, darling?" 

You make a noncommittal hum as you sit up, quick as you are unbothered by your nakedness. "Can I?" You ask, gesturing toward him, and he would find it amusing for you to ask if not for how eagerly you grasp his member at his nod.

Astarion hisses in pleasure as you pump his cock, getting into an easy rhythm with your thumb sliding deliciously on the tip of it. He watches as you gather spit to smoothen the pace, hand delicately pushing your hair from your face, and feel arousal melt into his belly like molten lava. 

"Why, it seems you have a little bit of experience in this matter, or are you just talented?" He asks and earns himself a coy look. 

"Just twice," you say, twisting your hand in a way that has him rolling his hips. "Hold my hair, will you?" 

Astarion is quick to follow your orders-- almost instinctively-- and before he has a moment to ponder on that, he is throwing his head back when your mouth swallows his cock in wetness and heat.

Most of his so-called lovers were more eager to be pleased than please; it makes sense that you would be different with the way you are. Your eagerness is quite adorable, as is your earnestness to provide him pleasure. Astarion revels in it, ecstasy climbing up like a tidal wave.

"That's enough, dear," Astarion purrs. He sees you look at him with a protest on your lips, and he continues, "I'd much rather continue this while I'm inside you." 

Based on your expression, you are more than thrilled at the aspect. 

Astarion guides you to lay down as he climbs over, hands carving a path over your curves and into your heat. He is careful to not scrape his fangs over your bosom, though he suspects you would not mind it in the least with how roughly he plays with your nipples to elicit a moan. You are dripping by the time he is done preparing you. 

It does not take much resistance to enter you fully. You let out a short cry, reaching out to him instinctively for comfort as your body adapts to him. True to your words, you are tight beyond measure, squeezing his cock as though you are determined to milk him for what he's worth. You pant into his ears, hands grasping over his shoulders as you ease into the feeling of him. 

The moment you nod, Astarion begins to move steadily. It is easy for the both of you to lose yourself in the pleasure, and it is these moments that he feels himself drift away, and the feeling of dread settles in.

Any type of intimacy takes him acres away, the gasps and moans that was music to his ears fading into numbness. He hardly knows what he's doing, except to know that he's doing well enough, hands playing at your clit as he moves at a persistent rhythm.

Astarion wishes it were different. Sex is fun, especially with you, if only it didn't make him feel as though he were fighting for his life. Every stroke calculated, every climax comes with a price. You are not to be taken back to Cazador, but it still feels like he's going to. 

You tighten around him, and he knows you are about to come just as he is. He lets out a grunt and persists through a rapid pace before feeling your body jolt in pleasure. He soon follows after, head upon your shoulder as he shudders into his climax. 

The night is still young; why don't we go back to my place for more? 

Won't you come home with me? We need so much more time to get to know each other.

His next lines come too easily for him that it makes him sick.

A hand pulls at his cheek rather cheekily and Astarion finds himself coming back from the haze. He lifts his head to look at you, face relaxed from pleasure but still otherwise amused. 

Is it ridiculous to think that the sight of you makes him feel safe?

"That," you begin, "was crazy. Sex is like that, huh?" 

"Be welcomed to the land of the living, darling," Astarion says. "I fear you have been missing out on one of the finer parts of life."

"Well, it's not like I've never orgasmed before," you tell him, "but I guess it is pretty different with someone else." You sigh when Astarion removes himself from you. "Thank you for being so patient with me."

"No need to mention it, darling," he says, finding it easy to relax with the banter, "though I dare say it did not take very long for you to be prepared. Why, I'd even call that a record for getting as wet as you did-"

"Hey!" He avoids your playful slap with ease as you pout at him. "I... I have no comeback to that, except maybe you're welcome."

"I'm welcome? I should be the one saying that to you. I'm rather magical in bed, don't you think?"

"I don't know if your neck could support a head that big if I agree with you." You laugh, flipping your hair away again. For a moment, Astarion has the urge to take it upon himself to brush the stray strands from your face, but he does not. "By the way," you continue, "are you okay?"

Astarion blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you just seemed a little..." You stop before shaking your head. "No, never mind. You seemed a little far away but what would I know."

His heart lurches. "I had to make sure I didn't lose control," he says carefully. He clears his throat and goes for levity. "Who knows if your fragile, virgin body can handle it?"

Astarion is grateful you take the line for how it is, quick to come up with a haughty retort, the banter easy to fall back to. You are adamant on being sturdy enough and not one to waste a chance, he proposes a long night of lovemaking-- if only to cinch the deal with you. After all, he thinks as your legs close around his head, this is all part of his plan: seduce you and win your protection. Nothing more, nothing less.

He tries not to think how sex for once, as he nips playfully at your thigh, has been enjoyable. 

.

.

.

The sun wakes him up before anything else. It is unfamiliar to him, even at least a month beyond the time when his deathly aversion to sunlight has disappeared. The warmth of the morning rays, the light that dawn brings-- Astarion did not realize how much he had missed it until he had felt it again. 

He almost isn't sure if he can ever go back to never feeling it again.

He stands to bask in it fully, glancing over to his side to watch your sleeping figure for a moment. You are curled up in your own clothes-- and his shirt as well, he remembers, having a little play fight over it before you eventually let exhaustion take you. The ache in his body from last night is familiar at least, and he stares at you, waiting for the dread to come-- but it does not. 

How curious. Only good for his plans if everything is more palatable, of course, but it is... unexpected for him to feel so at ease. He decides not to question it, using this moment of strangely acquired peace to face the sun in its entirety.

Your voice filters in after many minutes, a little scratchy from slumber. "You awake already?" 

"It isn't exactly the break of dawn, dear," Astarion replies, and he shoots a glance back expecting your usual deadpan, but you are rubbing your eyes sleepily instead. A thought comes to mind that he has never seen you in your first waking moments: you are rather unguarded, movements leisurely and expression soft still. It's quite... cute. "I'm rather surprised you're awake. I thought you'd be exhausted from last night."

You let out a titter behind your hand at this. "Yeah, well, everything aches in different ways than a fight, so it's not too bad." You yawn. "Still sleepy though," you mumble, looking up at him through the gaps between your fingers as you block the sun from your eyes. 

"Say," you begin, and Astarion realizes belatedly that the reason you were looking so intently at him was because you saw his back. "Can I ask about those markings on your back? Are they scars?"

"A poem from my old master," he replies facetiously. "Or so I assume. He carved it all into my back in one night." His lips purse. "He made a lot of revisions."

"I'm sorry," he hears you say with sympathy in your voice, and he knows he must quickly move on from this topic. 

"It's fine," he says abruptly. "It doesn't matter now. I'm free and far from Baldur's Gate. And he'll never control me ever again."

"Good," you say, and he wonders if putting warmth into your words comes naturally to you.

"Yes, it is." He pauses. "May I have my shirt back? Not that I mind being half nude, by the way- if only to let everyone know exactly what went on last night."

"Don't even joke," you sputter, tossing his shirt- miraculously clean- to him. "I don't kiss and tell! And they'll definitely know, but not the details!”

.

.

.

In the morning glow, nothing much has changed. As predicted, the entire camp is in-the-know of whomever slept with who. Astarion is quick to inquire Lae'zel about her tryst with Wyll, only to find, to the mutual disappointment, that he spent most of the time talking about his feelings. Shadowheart, on the other hand, was more than happy to share her wine last night. 

"Shadowheart mates like she fights," Lae'zel says. "Precisely and aggressively."

"Which is a good thing, I assume."

"Immensely." Lae'zel pauses then in breaking down her tent to look at him intently, which, for the githyanki, is as terrifying as anything. "I see you and our paladin decided to explore each other's bodies last night."

"Why, yes, thank you for noticing. It was quite the exploration," he responds, opening his mouth to elaborate.

"I suppose even you have your charms," she tells him instead, and the conversation ends there.

(Astarion hopes to glean more conversation elsewhere to no luck. Your talk with Shadowheart this morning is brief ("Lae'zel, huh."/"Astarion."/"Yep."), and Karlach's put-out expression is enough to give sympathy and a wide berth. Astarion sees Gale gazing upon the visage of his goddess again and turns the other way.)

The camp dynamic stays strangely the same. It is to Astarion's benefit, for he was comfortable with how the way things were, though he is more generous with the pet names for you. Halsin joins the fray, and they make their way to the mountains upon Lae'zel's insistence. 

In the midst of adventure, Astarion finds that you seek his presence more often. His night invitation seemed to open an avenue up for you to be more comfortable in doing so. Astarion finds he doesn't mind it; your camaraderie is most enjoyable in the too quiet camp and as far as "seducing" goes, you are doing half the work for him. 

Your gaze holds some heat for him once in a while when the moon is high and the fire burns low, but you have not asked him for another night. He is neither pleased nor displeased at the notion, because your affections for him are as clear as day. He knows you would say yes in a heartbeat if he did propose another night together, but he rather likes the late-night conversations he often has with you, a type of intimacy that borders on his comfort zone-- exciting and enjoyable without the unnecessary reminders of his past. 

Still, he sometimes finds himself recalling his night with you fondly. It's strange: he's gotten on his back ten thousand times or more and forgotten half of them, but his time with you, he knows he will remember. 

Astarion puts the thoughts of "why" (why you? Why are you different? What makes you special?) behind him for now. A treasure hunt for the Blood of Lathander (as if you needed to shine even brighter), a stolen githyanki egg (Lae'zel keeps it safe in her backpack), and an escape from a créche later, Astarion is more than happy to find refuge in the underdark, which proves to be more beautiful than any of them could imagine.

Something makes him look over to you then, and he watches as you take in the sights with wonder in your eyes, the gentle darkness cradling your face in its dreamy blue glow.

[stuckymonkey]

Ride

Natasha Romanoff

Pairing - nat x agent!reader

Summary - y/n has a special mission...seduce nat. she learns about what gets the gorgeous redhead to tick, eventually winning her over with a fun ride...

Warnings - implications of sexy times, flirting, reader is female, use of y/n

Word count - 1.5k

a/n - this is a ship I am hoping to write about more! this idea came to me and it was just too hot not to write

masterlist natasha romanoff

She was gorgeous. And completely off limits. Natasha Romanoff. She sat on one of the couches adjacent to mine during another team movie night. Sam had chosen a rom com, again. She laughed at one of the scenes, throwing popcorn in her mouth after. Natasha was so adorable in her pink pajama shorts that I wanted to feel so bad.

I've been on the team for just over a year, working privately before that as a Shield agent and one of Fury's few favourite and trusted people. I was born and trained in Europe before moving to NYC for school. That's when I was recruited by Fury and Stark to join the Avengers. I had quickly made friends with Steve, Bucky and Sam.

Natasha and Wanda soon became my friends as well, although while Wanda had become my friend instantly, Nat took more time to warm up to me. But when she did, oh man, it was amazing. She laughed with her whole body when she felt comfortable, and she talked freely around those she could trust. I was honoured when I became one of those people.

After tonight's movie night, we'll have a short mission tomorrow consisting of Steve, Bucky, Sam, Nat and me. As the movie ended I watched the redhead get up and bring her blanket back with her to her room. I helped Sam clean up a bit before heading to my own room, passing Natasha's on the way.

I stopped and knocked gently, surprised when I heard a clear "Come in," from one of my favourite voices. "Hey," I smiled. "Hey," she said, smiling back. "I just wanted to say I hope you have a good sleep before our mission tomorrow." I said. "Aw, thanks y/n/n. You too." Her soft smile reached her eyes, making her cheeks plumper than usual. "Thanks,"

With that, I headed to my bed, happy at being able to hear her voice and see her face as one of the last things before I fell into a deep sleep.

I sped past Steve and Bucky who were acting as lookouts, heading towards the abandoned hydra base where I would be meeting Sam. The motorcycle sped under me as I raced towards the checkpoint.

Nat was in the jet, giving us navigation directions. She successfully got us through the unguarded hallways and into the necessary room to gather intel for the usb drive in my pocket. It was a quick in and out after getting the needed information about a new HYDRA weapon. "Good?" Sam asked, standing behind me to watch the door. Even though this place was mostly empty, you never knew when it came to these idiots.

"Good." I replied. I pulled the drive out of the device, putting it back in my pocket. "We can go now," I said, following Sam out of the room. "Perfect. You'll ride back, and I'll fly?" He asked. "Sounds good to me," I said, flashing him a smile before straddling my bike as he flew off back to the jet.

When I passed Steve and Bucky's spot, they were already gone, probably headed to the jet. As I got closer I saw everyone standing out side of the jet's ramp. I drove straight past them, up the ramp and on to the jet.

I walked back down the jet to meet up with the other team members. Nat's gaze was fixed on me. "Hi," I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth and bit on it. Her eyes darkened and she swallowed, "H-hi." she blinked quickly as if to make sure what she was seeing was real. I usually fought in a regular tactical suit. Seeing me in a low cut red crop top and black leather jacket with ripped black jeans must have thrown her off.

"Might want to close your mouth, Natty, the drool's gonna slip out." I sassed, giving her the most seductive look I could. See, Nat could seduce anyone easily. Especially because they were already probably seduced before she even showed them any attention. So to seduce Nat was quite a bit harder, but I wanted her. And I wanted her bad.

After working with Natasha for several months, I knew just how to make her flustered: act confident, use your eyes and your mouth. So far, it was working. I could see a blush creep up her neck and just barely reach her cheeks. She turned her head away to avoid my gaze.

She followed everyone else onto the jet, I sat near her. I slowly took my jacket off and put it on my lap, sighing in content as I did so. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her head whip around to meet my body, letting her heavy gaze rest on me.

Real subtle Nat, I thought. By the time the jet landed, Nat rushed off and probably back to her room. Now I was kind of scared that I had made her uncomfortable. Most of the team knew about my crush on her, and I received a questioning glance from Wanda. Not knowing what else to do, I just offered a shrug in return before heading back to my room.

I had an excellent plan: shower, get changed, order takeout, bring said takeout to Natasha's room and see what was going on. I twisted the knob to my door, startled at seeing the redhead perched on the end of my bed. "Nat?!"I asked. "Hi," she replied shyly. "Hey, um, what are you doing here?" I asked. She shrugged but her eyes never left mine.

"Are you okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable today, I thought you were checking me out, but maybe I misread it! Anyways, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, so if I did I am so so sorry, and if you want we never have to speak of this ever again." I watched her for a reaction, the only thing I noticed was her eyes that were practically undressing my breasts, still covered in the red low cut crop top.

Slowly she got up from my bed and came to stand in front of me. Both of our hearts were beating out of our chests. I looked from her eyes, to her lips and back again. "Kiss me," she whispered. "Please."

"I always thought you would be the confident one in the bedroom," I commented, earning a light slap to my arm. "Just kiss me." she said. I gently cupped her neck with both of my hands, bringing her lips closer to mine, gently brushing them over my own. She grabbed onto my waist and pulled me closer, jamming her mouth onto mine.

I moaned at the feeling, moving my hands to thread through her red hair. "Nat," I moaned again as she licked my lower lip, slowly, teasingly. "Hm?" she started walking backwards toward my bed. I didn't know we reached it until she fell back, me landing on top of her.

We both erupted into giggles and went back to lazily making out. She shed her jacket and I offered her some pj's so we could cuddle up and watch something together. "Oh! I forgot, I had this plan to get you takeout and bring it to your room, but you were already here so...would you like some takeout?" my tone was sheepish as I waited for her answer. ''Sure, sweetheart." "Okay, Chinese sound good?" I beamed. "Perfect."

Her lips landed softly on mine once more, letting me put our order in as she got changed in my bathroom. She came back and joined me on my bed, snuggling in under the covers and searching for my TV remote. I watched her as she pulled her lip into her mouth, focusing on finding something to watch.

The rest of the night was filled with cuddles, stolen kisses and gentle touches. Eventually the movie ended and Nat stayed the night, falling asleep under warm covers with her head on my chest and my arms circled around her waist.

I couldn't wait to wake up with the redheaded woman of my dreams, and kiss her good morning. Except this wasn't a dream, this was real and I was beyond thankful for it.

[ushsblog]

Cordelia headcanon: Cordelia is magically charming.

So, I might have overanalyzed Cordelia's song a bit too much, and now I have an interesting headcanon about her.

This is also a kind of justification for why Sofia and Calista smile and dance with her throughout the song in "Through the Looking Back Glass"

1. Cordelia can enchant people.

I don’t know the exact English word to describe what I mean since I couldn’t find something similar, but I’m referring to Cordelia being magically charming to everyone.

Like a siren who seduces anyone with her beautiful voice, you know? Cordelia’s magic makes others more prone to like her. That’s more or less my headcanon.

Wouldn’t it be funny? While Cedric repels everyone around him, his sister attracts them easily?

I know this is referring to the way Cordelia always discredits him, but I thought it was illustrative. Furthermore, if her magic really made others like her more, it would also make them believe her more.

Well, that said, here’s my other idea.

2. Sofia and Calista were under her effect (A poor justification for the animation)

This point is quite doubtful, and it’s all a headcanon clearly, but the girls’ behavior during the song is a bit curious.

At the beginning, we see them worried about Cedric, and yes, they dance at the start too, but their faces show that discomfort.

It’s not until Cordelia lifts them with her magic that they start to smile and dance more cheerfully. I’m not saying that Cordelia bewitched them on purpose, no, what I’m saying is that her magic unconsciously has that effect on people.

When the girls move away from Cordelia, they seem worried again, and as soon as they get close to her again, they go back to smiling and being lively, as if being near Cordelia makes them do so.

I don’t know exactly if I’m explaining myself well, but I hope it’s understood lol.

Lastly, analyzing this, I was thinking about something else in the song.

3. Does Cordelia know about Cedric's attempt to usurp the throne?

This is more of a question for you rather than a headcanon or theory, what do you think? Does Cordelia know?

Because I find this part and the way she says it curious:

Because, objectively speaking, Cedric has never been in charge. Yes, he’s the royal sorcerer, but everyone knows that any authority that his position might carry is undermined and trampled by everyone.

It seems like an implicit way of saying she knows, I guess. Or maybe it’s my English failing again, but I think it can also be understood in the following way:

"With you in charge (as King), the place will end up a wreck"

It's another way of interpreting it I guess. Idk.

Well, I just found it interesting. It might also explain why she’s more aggressive this time with Cedric than in her previous appearance in "Gone With the Wand"

As always, happy to read any opinion on the matter!

[asmo-d3us]

oh you want toxic rosekiller? alright!

barty and evan having a break up for the 10th time because their relationship is toxic and manipulative, and barty immediately goes back to sleeping with other students and being the flirtatious little shit he is, and evan gets jealous.

he feels extremely jealous and—in all honesty? he shouldn’t be. but barty (that arsehole) stares directly at evan when dancing with someone else, always stares at evan when flirting or kissing someone else. and you know what? evan can’t fucking take it anymore.

now listen, evan has never really done anything towards the behavior of the love of his life, but in 5th year at a slytherin party, he does.

barty usually goes for the same people at partys, just to make evan jealous and to make him think that he’s moved on completely, but evan knows better. and evan knows that whenever he wants to, he can easily take all those people as his. seduce them, kiss them, fuck them, and even ruin them. i mean, he is the casanova of slytherin (alongside crouch) after all, and barty knows that, but he thinks evan would never do such a thing.

well, he was wrong.

during this party, barty was—as usual—making out with men and women, grinding against people, being grinded against on, you get the gist. there was a tiny moment where barty went to get 2 cups of drinks for himself and this random female he was fervently making out with mere seconds ago, and evan took his chance immediately.

he approached the girl and began his usual tactics. pick up lines, flirting, winking, smiling, and even slight touches. when noticing barty making his way back over, you know what he did? he grabbed that girl by her neck, and he smashed their faces together. tongue and all, the usual; “colliding into one and fighting for dominance.”

he practically heard the way the ravenette’s jaw dropped, he nearly heard the way the solo cup in his hands fell and clattered down onto the cold floor, and it made him smile, it made him happy, it was almost like a “HAH, take this you bitch!”

and he did this repeatedly. over and over again with every single female, male, and person that barty would “hang out with” or “violently have sex with”. and sooner or later, barty had gotten quite enough.

i won’t dig too deep into the details, but let’s just say the whole week after that was filled with absolute VIOLENT intimacy. and none of them minded it, this was just how they were. this was how they worked, how they loved, and if anyone dared to say a word? they wouldn’t live to see another day!

[gingermintpepper]

hey I hope you’re doing ok!! For the ask game, 🌈? Also perhaps ☔️?💧, even?

Hello hello, thank you for participating ☆ Once again, I can't comment on whether or not this extract is particularly fluffy but I do think it's rather sweet and it's definitely romantic so I think it's good for filling out both 🌈 and 💧!! It's an extract from what I've tentatively dubbed my 'Women and Apollo' doc which is essentially just a big running document I have dedicated to exploring themes and dynamics between Apollo and the women he's been entangled with! This extract in particular is from my Melia section 🥰

The night is a cold sheet spread across her shoulders. She wakes in pieces; first, her flesh, bracketed between the raw heat of Phoebus' bare chest and the sharp sting of the night air's fangs, then her mind, pleasure's fleeting haze quickly swept aside by panic then worry then guilt. What would Kaanthos say if he could see her now, bare breasted and stained in a male-god's desire? What would Father? No doubt she would have to cede the seat of the temple to Kaanthos. How could a carnal woman serve the people after all? And her river - oh, her sweet river! Would his waters even deign to soothe her scales when she was so completely drenched in the scent of a sky-god?

How foolish she's been, throwing everything away just because of some sweet words and a pretty face. Maybe Kaanthos truly did deserve the temple after all. Maybe Melia didn't deserve such a treasure if she was so easily seduced.

She sniffles softly, slipping gently from Phoebus' loose grip. His heat wafts off his skin like the warmth of a well-tended hearth, it lingers in her bones as she kneels in the grass of this unfamiliar field. It makes the sear of shame dig that much deeper into her heart. Phoebus had listened well to her warnings. He'd carried her someplace far away from flowing water, somewhere distant where her brother's scrying eyes could not reach. The tears welling in her eyes finally fall as she turns this way and that, utterly and completely lost without a source of water to follow. How could she return now? Even she was not bold enough to have the man she planned to reject take her back to her father's house.

Stupid girl. Foolish. How could she have been so short sighted?

"Melia?"

His voice is laden with sleep's husk, his arm makes little grabs at the grass searching for her shape. She swallows her tears and bids her voice to not betray her, "Here I am, my lord. You may go back to sleep."

The mildest furrow of his brow. When he turns his head, his hair flows like rich golden oil over the dark grass, "Come here," his hand keeps searching for hers, patting the ground, dragging long fingers over the dirt and frowning when he does not find her. "It is not yet morning, why have you fled so far from my side?"

Melia cannot help but laugh at his visage, clumsy and squinty-eyed, less the graceful gentleman who promised her a taste of change and more a bumbling kitten desperate for its mother's teat. She wipes her tears as quickly as she can muster, "If you but open your eyes, I'm certain you would find me."

He makes a grumbling noise, some cross between a boar's grunt and the crow's deep bellow, "Is this another of your games? I'm much too tired for games Melia." Finally, his finger grazes the edge of her ankle and like a child, he lights up, eyes still stubbornly closed but smile positively radiant, "Ah, there you are!" Diligently, he traces the shape of her leg with his open palm, measuring the smoothness of her calf, the swell of her knee, the broadness of her thigh, then he lays his head upon her, cheek pressed close to her stomach, heated back like warm coals against her skin. "So cool," he murmurs and kisses her stomach, throws his arm around her waist and nuzzles further into her skin, "Tell me when you've need of the water -" a dreadfully wide yawn interrupts him. "- I'll fetch it for you."

Melia finds herself laughing again, just a tiny thing as she runs her fingers through the thick waves of his hair. What is she to do now?

As for a fic idea I'd like to talk about since I don't know if I'll ever write it: Among the many, many, many things I'd like to write but probably never will, I really wish I could just sit down and write a story about Tenes and Hemithea. There's a lot of reasons why I have no plans to ever properly tackle anything regarding the Iliad - chief of which being that there's just too much information and the amount of research would be insane - but a lot of what I would potentially focus on have to deal with people and places Apollo loves and his inability to protect those things throughout the conflict starting with Tenes. I absolutely adore exploring Apollo's paternity in my writing and considering how fiersome Tenes was and how both he and Troilus would die protecting their sisters, I've just always wanted to dig into an exploration of their lives and connection with their father and how Tenes' death specifically would've affected Apollo. Like yeah, I know Troilus is usually the point of focus for such works especially because of the manner in which he was killed, but Tenes was also beloved! Also considering he was originally punished for being falsely accused of sexually assaulting his stepmother, I can't help but want to write his wrath when he realises what it is Achilles intends to do to Hemithea. Alas though, I don't think I'l ever get to do more than think longingly about it, at least right now lmao.

[strangesthirdeye]

✨Thank you for 200 followers! ✨

Me: *burst into my account's door hall* Alright guys settle down. I have good news.

Crowley: ngk- hurry up. I have a business to run.

Aziraphale: *nods* Very important business.

Stephen: if it's a useless thing, allow me to use my Sling ring to go back to the Sanctum. I've got some dimensional demon on the run.

Wong: The dimensional demon who is trying to seduce you.

Stephen: shut up.

Sherlock: better hurry up. I've got bored easily.

John: whatever you want to say, Dhani. Just a little quick, we have a case to solve.

Doctor: let's just listen to what she has to say, guys.

Donna: these guys really don't know how to relax.

Me: chill out, boys *pause* and girl. Now *open projector* This is great news. we finally got 200 followers on Tumblr.

Crowley: Sheshh, you're popular very fast here.

Doctor: the others platforms you own has many followers but here it is quite difficult to get followers judging by the many accounts that make fanfics fandoms the same as yours.

Sherlock: more to those guys *nods towards Aziraphale and Crowley*

Aziraphale: *mouth becomes a thin line* Well, I suppose you all have results in different ways.

Stephen: Let's just face it, guys. She's doing it because your fandoms *nods to Crowley and Aziraphale* in the move on phase after episode 6,they say. She *nods at me* trying to move on by making memes.

Severus: and fanfics *looks sharply at them in the corner of the hall in the shadows*

Them: *turns back and notices Severus in the corner of the hall*

Doctor: *looks at Donna with raised eyebrows*

Crowley: who are you?

Severus: her other fictional character she's obsessed with. Evidently, she was busy looking for Severus Snape x reader on Tumblr several times these days. Not to mention in Ao3 as well. But still, she never thought of making fanfics about me.

Them: *looks at me*

Me: *sweating* chill out, kids. Your mama here has a lot more work to settle. Severus, your first fic will be made after I finish some abandoned fics, so be patient.

Severus: *scoff* abandoned fics.. so to speak. More like a new upcoming fics that you haven't finished yet.

Them: *gasp*

Me: alright, alright. I know. Let's just listen first, I'm still thinking about making fics about you but I still don't know what the ideas is yet. okay? so chill, Now back to the business.

Sherlock: what recent work is she still working on?

Doctor: *open my noted* umm, Too Many Secret part 2. Well, it's still hanging, due to her having bad writer's block.

Crowley: gosh, that's bad.

Aziraphale: I think she needs something to be inspired, right? That's what a writer needs, isn't it? inspiration.

Stephen: exactly.

Me: woah, woah. How come you just open my noted apps at will? That's- that's not good.

Doctor: Dhani, you forgot what I can do, right?

Me: well, I didn't expect you to open my noted apps! now get out of it!

Doctor: *blew his lips* alright.

Me: *sighing* now, another thing, thanks to all of you for being willing to work with me to reach this level, not to mention, being one of my inspirations to correct my English, although there are mistakes but people still like the fics.

Them: *clap and cheer*

Severus: *slowly claps his hands but his sharp gaze is still there*

Me: and also, thanks to Y/n who is also the 'main character' in all of your fics.

Them: *cheers loudly*

Y/n: *nods and waves with a big smile*

Severus: *whisper* when will I get my own Y/n.

Me: and also, the biggest thanks to my followers, whether new or old, for being willing to follow and like my silly fics. Thank you so much! although some of my fics and memes make no sense but you are willing to reblog and like my fics. I love you so much! Thank you. Thank you! *nods my head*

Loki: and edits! *walks into the hall with an unreadable look*

Stephen: *narrow eyes* Loki? you are supposed to take care of timelines and the universe. How come you are here? and who takes care of your place in the tree of life?

Loki: don't worry about that, Strange. This is just an illusion I made. *looks at me* you forgot to mention edits about me.

Me: *sweating* oh yeah, i forgot.. sorry.

Loki: don't bother *waves his hand*

Crowley: that's my line!

Aziraphale: *holds Crowley from getting up* no no!.

Me: oh god. *massage the bridge of my nose*

Donna: I can't believe I accompanied you to sort of kindergarten thingy.

Doctor: it's not a kindergarten thingy.

Loki: not to mention that there is also a fic about me you made.

Me: oh, fuck. *looks at Severus*

Severus: *wide eyes* what?!

Me: ok! I think we can finish our meeting today. So, umm thank you for 200 followers and I love you guys in every universe. Muah.. bye bye! *run away*

Severus: *chases after me with a red face* HOW DARE YOU MAKE A FIC ABOUT LOKI BUT NOT ME!

Stephen: and it feels like that's our cue to go back to our respective universes. *open portals for all of them*

Crowley: *grumbles and enters the portal*

Aziraphale:*looks at Sherlock, Wong, Doctor, Donna, John and Stephen* well, i hope we can meet again but in a good situation.

Them: *nods*

John: of course. *smiles and enters the portal*

Sherlock: *nods and enters the portal*

Doctor: only after everyone gets their own fics and is in a good mood. *enter portal*

Donna: He really means that, actually. *enter portal*

Aziraphale: well, good day. *enter portal*

Stephen: *nods and enters the portal with Wong behind him*

Loki: well, better get back to work then. *disappears*

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Seduce Me - Joel Miller X GN Reader

Title: Seduce Me

Joel Miller X GN Reader

Additional Character: Tommy (Mentioned), Ellie (Mentioned), and other Survivors (Mentioned very briefly)

Requested by Anon!

WC: 1,628

Warnings: TLOF canon violence mentioned, some good ol' flirting, teasing, fighting (verbally) mentioned, one sleeping bag trope mentioned, confession, first kiss as a couple, slight angst, and fluff

Finding Joel's brother was pure luck. And Tommy living in a somewhat safe location in Wyoming with other survivors? A godsend. You were beyond thankful for how caring and kind Tommy was. Him letting you, Joel, and Ellie stay for a while. You finally got enough food to fill your stomach and even a pair of new clean clothes. You sort of wandered off from Joel and Ellie, just wandering the place, meeting some new people before you found your way back to Joel, without Ellie and without his brother. He sat in an old chair, strumming softly on a guitar. You paused briefly at the door, a small smile on your face as you listened. You didn't know that Joel could play, and it made you wonder. What could he play? Could he sing too?

Walking over, Joel looked up, pausing his pleasant strumming as you pushed yourself up onto a table a ways in front of him, leaning forward, and placing your elbows on your knees. "I didn't know you could play?" You said, looking down at him.

He shrugged, smiling slightly. "I learned." He glanced around the room. "This ain't my first rodeo, sweetheart," He explained before he began to play again.

You sighed, resting both the palms of your hands on your cheeks, fully engulfed in the feeling of listening to Joel sing, his voice low and smooth. The sound, like honey, wrapped itself around you, soothing your nerves. It soothed the aches from traveling for months, the soreness from fighting against monsters, and from fighting alongside Joel. Your heart thudded in your chest at the memory, and for once, you felt content. At the end of his song, you let out a breathy sigh. "Are you trying to seduce me?" You asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

His cheeks turned pink, lips pressed together, not quite a frown but definitely a displeased expression. "Is it workin'?" He countered, giving you a look, his eyes shining with something that you couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't a scowl. Was he teasing you now? 

You had known Joel ever since he let you join him and Ellie. You quickly bonded with the young girl, but it took a bit longer for you and Joel to finally see eye-to-eye on some things. You didn't know what to really call your... Relationship. Sometimes you fought on a certain topic or decision or had to share a sleeping bag, or not-so-subtly flirted with one another. Other times, you would get along great, like right now. But there was still that tension in the air, you just hadn’t figured out where to step into yet. You knew there was something there, but neither of you seemed to be willing to put a name to it.

"Well, I mean it does seem to work. Or maybe I'm just very easily swayed by your heavenly voice." You teased with a grin before it slowly turned into a small adoring smile, "I've never heard you sing before." You said quietly.

The blush deepened in color, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he thought. His eyes drifted toward the ground. He didn’t say anything, merely playing the strings lightly. The silence stretched. You waited patiently until he eventually spoke again. “I can’t remember the last time I did." He muttered, "It feels... Good." He admitted in the end, still not looking you in the eye. 

Your heart melted and you smiled softly. "Well, you sound wonderful," You said quietly. He glanced at you then, surprise evident on his face, and you grinned wider, "You definitely have a talent, Joel." You sighed, "I wish I knew how to play an instrument, all I can do is whistle with a blade of grass." You tried to joke, making Joel smile slightly as he stood up, walking towards you. 

"Would you like to learn how?" He asked, offering the guitar to you, as you stared at the instrument and up at him.

"I was serious, Joel. I have no idea what I am doing." You tried to gracefully bow out, only for Joel to shake his head with a small grin before hopping onto the table beside you with a small grunt, making you chuckle lightly, your hand unconsciously landing on his back as he settled. Looks like you had no choice. "Careful, old man. Don't want you to have a heart attack before you teach me an actual talent." You teased as Joel let out a huff, playfully glaring at you as he passed you the guitar.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say nothin', now place your hand here, and your other hand here." Joel began, placing your fingers on the neck and the base of the guitar, the strings moving slightly from the movement. "Now, adjust your fingers on the strings," He continued, his own hands covering yours, almost puppeteering you as he guided your fingers, "And press gently, alright? Just a simple pressure, see?" Joel asked.

You nodded as you relaxed your fingers on the strings, following his instructions. You watched his hands move in tandem with yours as they guided your hands, his long fingers touching yours more gently as your own fingers moved against the strings. The sound that came from the instrument was... Not great, but it wasn't terrible. Joel continued to help you, occasionally explaining something to you but it was hard for you to even concentrate. All you could think about was how warm you felt, and the feeling of Joel's side pressed into your back. When his hands brushed yours, goosebumps prickled across your skin. You tried not to focus on it, instead focusing on the words Joel was saying. He sounded... So nice, gentle, and calm. You were so entranced by him and his soothing voice that you weren't aware of where you were or what you were doing. Until you felt Joel's hands pull away, leaving you cold in their absence. As soon as he let go of your hands, you were hit with a realization.

You really liked Joel.

No... You loved him.

"Alright," Joel began, gesturing to you, "Try it."

You glanced over at him confused, "Huh?"

 Joel gave you a look, raising an eyebrow, "You weren't paying attention, were you?" He asked. You shook your head, biting your lip lightly. "You alright there, darlin'?"

You stayed quiet, biting your lip softly as you fidgeted with the strings, plucking them gently. "I- I'm just a bit confused, I guess." Joel furrowed his eyebrows but stayed silent as you continued, "I've been trying to rationalize with myself for months, but nothing really came out of that. It's like all logic just went out of the window when it came to you." You confessed, before looking up at Joel beside you, "What are we, Joel? I feel comfortable with you and... There's something there. Something good. I want to explore that good thing." Joel remained silent as you spoke, his hands clasped firmly in his lap as he stared at you. You looked back down at the guitar, "I mean, we tease and flirt with one another, share sleeping bags even though sometimes we don't have to, and... I love it. Losing myself in you, being vulnerable with you." You admitted, a slight flush creeping across your cheeks. "It makes me feel happy. Like... Like I belong somewhere. I've never felt like this before. And I don't want to lose it." You looked back up at Joel. You were beginning to worry about how quiet he was being. "Can you say something, please, Joel?"

Joel was watching you closely, his brows furrowing, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. "Do you mean it?" He breathed.

You nodded. "Of course, I do." You breathed out.

Joel exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. He opened his eyes and looked at you again, his gaze softening as he reached forward and took hold of your chin, pulling it up slightly and tilting your face up to meet his gaze; aking your breath hitch. He leaned in close, brushing his nose against yours, his breathing heavy. "Y'know..." He started, "I'm glad to hear it." He breathed, leaning closer and closer to your face until his lips were a hair's width away from yours, "If you are serious, I'm willin' to try this, whatever this is." He whispered. His thumb traced your bottom lip lightly, causing you to gulp nervously. "I'll admit, I find you absolutely irresistible. But I also know that if I start something I might not be able to stop." He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours.

You chuckled lightly, your fingers gripping tightly around the front of his shirt, "You're such a tease, Joel." You mumbled under your breath as he smirked softly at you.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a gentle kiss, a shiver running down your spine at the sudden yet simple contact. His lips were firm and soft at the same time, just right. He held your chin, his grip tightening as he deepened the kiss. Your hands traveled from his chest to his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. He groaned lightly against your lips, pressing his body more comfortably against yours. You both pulled apart after what felt like years, taking a few moments to catch your breath, both smiling at one another.

"So..." Joel breathed, his eyes gazing deeply into yours as his thumb rubbed circles into the crook of your neck.

“So,” You mimicked, smiling lightly, "Are you gonna teach me the guitar or not?" You whispered.

"Yeah," He breathed back, as you blushed lightly, realizing how close you two were to each other, "And you better pay attention this time."

[song-writer-melo-wrath]

Hey, Astarion fans

Consider: Sweater Weather for Astarion and Tav. Particularly this cover

All I am is a man, I want the world in my hands

Hmmmm???? At first, this made me think this would only fit Ascended Astarion, but then I realized that such a desire resides in Astarion regardless of route. The world has harmed him so much, that before the choice is made, he thinks, what if the world bent to my will? What if I- and then, what if we used these parasites, used their powers, took over the cult, took over the brain…what if?

The thing with this song is it's also…tender?

And if I may just take your breath away, I don't mind if there's not much to say, sometimes the silence guides our minds, so move to a place so far away

Oh, this line could be taken many ways for him...

In a lot of the encounters in which you seduce him/are seduced by him, the narrator notes that "there's a look about him that reveals he's a million realms away"

Head in the clouds, but my gravity's centered Touch my neck, and I'll touch yours

Aka, dissociating. Understandable, given what he has gone through, and as someone who has gone through something of the same vein, I relate. I digress.

It also speaks to the understanding Astarion and develop. How if him feeding on you becomes a nightly, consensual occurrence, then you don't have to say much of anything about it, just let him know he can. How you can direct his movements in combat. Also, he just generally takes your breath away.

And of course,

Cause it's too cold For you here and now So let me hold Both your hands in, the holes of my sweater

Cold in temperature, or cold in circumstance? Being an undead, the natural assumption for Astarion's body temperature is, well, cold, but I'm more focused in non-temperature cold.

How if you say you want to end things with Astarion, his first response is "oh shit, did I do something wrong?" instead of "why?". How he views himself as lower, especially viewing his past self as lower if ascended. How he has to be cold to survive.

But either route, he still...makes connection. He still is surrounded by people to have and to hold in the spawn route, and is deeply, tightly holding onto Tav in the ascended route.

Crazy thing being, depending on how you play Tav, or Durge, or hell, another Origin character if you prefer, this could easily be them singing back to him.

My Tav (who is named after me lol) in particular I've made very…morally gray. They don't exactly feel the need to take over the world, as they generally approve of the freedom of the people, but who's to say they don't also want the world in their hands?

At one point, Astarion can say to the player character, "I'm not easily impressed by people, but you're stronger than I gave you credit for." The narrator implies it's empty flattery, but over time, "and if I may just take your breath away" applies to them as well.

You know what I think about And what I think about

Thank you for coming to my Tedtalk