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count-on-mi · 6 months ago

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Mommy's little Boy Part 1 (Mina)

I lost my mother when I was young, and my father remarried Mina when I became an adult. Mina is just ten years older than me, she also had a pure appearance, a sexy body, and a noble temperament. As a virgin, I was full of fantasies about her, and would even spy on her having sex with my father while masturbating at the same time.

I found that the sultry Mina actually had a very strong sexual desire, but my father's old body could not satisfy her, and instead, he was gradually drained of her. Seeing my father being drained by Mina made me imagine how exciting it would be to be drained by Mina until I died.

At ten o'clock in the evening, I hid outside the door as usual and peeked through the crack in the door to watch Mina and her father having sex on the bed. I saw Mina lying naked on the bed, spreading her legs to reveal her pink pussy, squeezing her breasts with one hand, and playing with her clitoris with the other. Her moans came from the room intermittently, lustfully and seductively.

Soon, my father walked in with his upper body naked and only his underwear on his lower body. He climbed onto the bed, caressed Mina's plump breasts with his hands, and lowered his head to suck her nipples. Mina threw her head back and moaned, inserting one hand into her father's hair and pushing his head towards her.

"Well...Husband...come in quickly..." Mina begged.

My father stood up and took off his underwear, letting me see his short and slender dick. He put his dick against Mina's moist entrance, stretched his waist hard, and completely penetrated her.

"Ah! It feels so comfortable!" Mina screamed loudly, wrapping her legs tightly around her father's waist.

My father started thrusting hard, like an old pile driver, making a feeble thumping sound. His dick moved in and out of Mina's body quickly, bringing out a large amount of honey. Mina kept moaning, looking like she was enjoying it.

"Hmm...ha...honey, you are so good...fuck me harder..."

My mouth was so dry that I couldn't help but unbutton my pants, take out my hard and jerk it.

My father growled lowly and froze for a few seconds, then pulled out the limp dick from Mina's body. White semen slowly flowed out of Mina's pussy, soaking the sheets.

"Oh, why did it end so soon?" Mina pouted in dissatisfaction, "Hubby, are you done so soon? I still want it."

The father gasped and said with a red face: "Baby, Dad is old and can't keep up with your rhythm. Let's take a rest."

"No," Mina said coquettishly, "You've just warmed up, how about we do it again? This time you use this, I guarantee you will never fall!" After saying that, Mina took out a small bottle.

The father hesitated for a moment, then took the bottle. "What is this?" he asked.

"It's an aphrodisiac. It's imported from Japan. It's super powerful!" Mina blinked and said, "After taking it, you will immediately regain your strength, your dick will be twice as big as before, and you will be energetic enough to fuck me till dawn!" "

Hearing this, I couldn't help but shudder. Could it be that Mina is actually the legendary succubus? Will she drain my father dry until he dies? Thinking of this, my breathing became rapid, and my right hand unconsciously increased the speed of stroking.

My father hesitated for a while and finally plucked up the courage to swallow the pill. After a while, he felt hot all over his body, and his dick in his lower body slowly became filled with blood, swelled and hardened, becoming thicker and longer than before.

"Wow, that's amazing!" my father said in surprise.

"Of course, this is the latest type of special medicine." Mina smiled proudly, "Okay, it's my turn to take care of you this time."

After saying that, Mina turned over and sat on him. She took hold of her father's fully erect cock, pointed it at her pussy, and sat down. The cock directly hit her womb, Mina raised her head in pleasure and kept moaning.

"Ah... so big... so comfortable... so exciting..."

My father also let out a sigh of pleasure, squeezing Mina's elastic buttocks with both hands. Mina twisted her waist and moved up and down, letting her father's cock rub inside her. The room was soon filled with violent crashing sounds and lustful sounds of water.

The sound of "pop, pop, pop" was heard endlessly, and father's cock rapidly thrust into Mina's pussy, causing a lot of foam to come out. Mina's eyes were blurry and she uttered obscene words, asking him to fuck her hard and fuck her up.

Seeing this passionate scene, I couldn't help but speed up my right hand. Father's cock is so thick, if it were me, I would definitely not be able to satisfy Mina. I don’t know if it was due to the aphrodisiac, but he was able to fuck Mina as hard as a young man. Mina's cries became louder and louder, sounding like she was enjoying herself.

"Husband... your cock is so big... I want to be fucked to death by you... Ah... it's so deep... it reaches the entrance of the cervix..."

"Baby...you're so tight inside...it makes me feel so comfortable..."

The father grabbed Mina's slender waist and pushed upwards hard. Each stroke hit Mina's G-spot hard, making her scream again and again. Mina soon had her first orgasm, her pussy contracted violently, and waves of semen spurted out.

"I can't do it anymore...I'm going to go...Ahhhh——"

Mina's whole body trembled, her eyes rolled white, and her saliva flowed down uncontrollably. She fell off her father's body and lay on the bed twitching. Father did not let her go, but lifted one of her legs to her chest to make the angle of her vagina more vertical, and then continued to penetrate her from top to bottom.

"No more...let me take a break..." Mina begged weakly for mercy, but father ignored her and continued to thrust hard at a fast pace.

Mina soon had her second orgasm. She cried out father's name, her pussy tightly gripping the giant thing inside her. Father finally couldn't help but cummed inside her and let out a low growl. The two hugged each other and panted for a while, and then father pulled out his weakened cock. Mina's pussy couldn't be closed, and the semen mixed with her juice flowed out gurglingly.

Looking at the exhausted two people, I returned to my room with satisfaction. The beautiful scenery tonight was worth the price of admission, and I felt more excited than ever. Recalling the scene just now, I took out my penis again and started stroking it crazily. I imagined that I had replaced my father and was fucking Mina like a storm with my huge cock; I imagined how I would send her to one orgasm after another, and finally reach a double level of semen and water under my violent bombardment. break out. With a numbing sensation, I finally couldn't help but ejaculate.

At this moment, the door suddenly opened, and a naked Mina stood at the door. The blush of passion still remained on her face, and she exuded an aura of lust.

"I found you, pervert." She winked at me and slowly walked up to me.

I was so frightened that I wanted to escape but it was too late. Mina lifted up the quilt and roughly grabbed my newly ejaculated dick.

"It turns out that my perverted son has been secretly watching us having sex." She gently scratched my peehole with her fingers, and I felt a shudder. "It must be hard to be a virgin at such an old age, right? Do you want mom to help you take care of your physiological needs?"

As she spoke, she opened her mouth and took my glans in her mouth, swirling her flexible tongue around the tip. My scalp suddenly became numb and I almost surrendered on the spot. Fortunately, I held it back and didn't let her laugh at my incompetence.

Seeing that I didn't respond, Mina took a step further and swallowed my entire penis into her mouth. I felt that my cock entered a warm and moist place, and the soft oral mucosa wrapped the shaft, bringing an extremely comfortable feeling. At the same time, she kept sucking and licking by her tongue, giving me the strongest stimulation.

I quickly lost control and cummed it in her mouth. Mina swallowed it all with a gurgle, and licked my cock clean without wanting to finish.

"Well, it tastes good." She wiped the corners of her mouth, stared at me, and said, "It seems like you won't have to be so lonely in the future, right?"

I was stunned and at a loss. Mina jumped directly on me, pulled off my underwear, and then held my semi-soft cock and pointed it at her pussy.

"Come on, fuck mommy with your big cock."

As she said that, she raised her buttocks, and my cock slid into the ecstasy hole. I felt like my whole body was about to melt into this heavenly feeling. I could never have imagined that one day I would have incest with my step mother and conquer her mature and attractive body with my cock.

I started to pump my cock instinctively, while Mina moaned wildly and kept calling me husband, dear husband, good son, which made my blood surge. I pushed harder every time, hitting her sensitive spots hard every time. Not long after, she screamed and climaxed, and her juices poured on my glans.

"Damn, you're so tight… Your are good at pinching, you're going to pinch me out." I cursed, grabbed her waist and sprinted like crazy.

"Then cum all to mommy, mommy's womb is waiting for you!" Mina moaned loudly and tighten her walls again, "Hurry up, push harder, and cum all your semen to mommy!"

Amid her screams, I could no longer hold back, and with a low growl, I poured all the thick semen into her womb. I collapsed on the bed as if exhausted, while Mina leaned into my arms with a satisfied look on her face.

"It will be like this every night from now on, you know?" She blew into my ear.

Just when I was about to quit the battlefield and take a break, Mina was not going to let me go. She stretched out her slender fingers and gently brushed my sensitive nipples, and a tingling electric current spread throughout my body instantly.

"Haha, little cutie, is this going to work?" Mina bit my ear, her voice was lazy and charming, "Don't worry, the night is still very long..."

As she spoke, her hand moved to my crotch, holding my semi-soft cock and slowly stroking it. My cock quickly became hard again. Mina seemed very satisfied and moved her hand faster and faster.

"Ah...good boy...that's it..." She moaned softly while helping me masturbate, "Mom likes your big cock the most...it can make my mother die every time... ."

Hearing these obscene words, I felt my cock swell a little more. Seeing this, Mina sped up the movements in her hand, and kept rubbing my tips with her thumb. I soon felt a heat gathering in my lower abdomen, and my self control was lost again.

"Damn...I'm cumming again..." I warned her with a heavy breath, but she obviously wasn't going to let me go. She suddenly leaned down and took my cock in her mouth. The hot and wet mouth once again brought me extremely vivid stimulation.

I grabbed her long hair with both hands, pushed my waist up involuntarily, and pushed my swollen cock deep into her throat. Mina tightened her lips in cooperation and sucked my glans hard. I couldn't hold it back any longer, I groaned and ejaculated all over her mouth.

Mina did not spit out the semen in her mouth but swallowed it all. After swallowing, she extended her tongue and licked the remnants of my dick.

"It tastes good. It seems that I can look forward to a delicious breakfast every day from now on." She raised the corners of her mouth and smiled charmingly.

I lay on the bed panting, feeling regretful and a little excited. From now on, I will have my essence squeezed out by this goblin every day, and I don’t know if my body can handle it. But the thought of being able to indulge in a sensual paradise day and night seems pretty good.

While I was thinking wildly, Mina had already moved her hips and adjusted to a more comfortable position. Then, she lifted one leg and put it on my shoulder and used her fingers to guide my erect penis to her pussy dripping with semen.

"Come on, kid, feed mommy with your big cock." She narrowed her eyes and moaned lustfully.

I couldn't think anymore, so I could only obey my instinct, straighten my waist and put my dick into her. The warm and moist feeling enveloped me, and I couldn't help but start a new round of conquest. In this way, we changed countless positions, from the bed to the floor, and then from the window to the bathroom. It wasn't until the sky outside the window turned white that the heart-wrenching battle came to an end temporarily.

Mina nestled in my arms contentedly and fell asleep quickly. And although I was exhausted physically and mentally, I couldn't calm down for a long time. I couldn't help but smile when I thought about my dark sexual life in the future. Maybe this is the legendary dream come true, I hope I will never wake up from this moment.

When I woke up from my dream, the sun was already up to my butt. Mina was not around, so she probably got up and prepared breakfast. Thinking of all the crazy things we did last night, I couldn't help but blush. Suddenly, there were footsteps outside the door, and Mina opened the door and walked in.

"Good morning, son" She came over with a smile and kissed my forehead.

"Good morning...Good morning." I was a little embarrassed and didn't dare to look directly into her eyes.

"Did you enjoy last night, my dear?" She climbed onto the bed and straddled me. I felt something hot and hard pressing against my lower abdomen, and my eyes widened.

"WTF? You...why did you..."

"Hehe, don't forget who I am." Mina blinked, and her dexterous fingers had already begun to untie my belt, "I can make you ecstasy at any time if I want~"

As soon as she finished speaking, she had already taken off my underwear and opened her mouth to take my morning boner. I immediately fell into lust, raised my head, and moaned uncontrollably...

#minasaiyatis #twice smut #mina smut #m reader #kpop smut #girl group smut #mina x reader #twice mina #female idol smut #twice imagines

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mistiell · 1 year ago

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When you're lost in the Darkness

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Summary: Astarion suspects that you're afraid of the dark. What he doesn't know, is that not only will he soon be proven right, but he severely underestimated just how severe your fear is.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, nyctophobia, brief description of panic attack, possibly ooc Astarion, literally one use of y/n

A/N: Hey hi hello, I am back from the void for now. I would like to make a disclamier: I have not yet played BG3!! So, if anyone is out of character, I apologize!

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Astarion has a theory.

A small and rather unimportant one, but a theory nonetheless.

It started when he noticed the way you set up your bed roll when the group makes camp for the night. You’re always as close to the fire as you can be without lighting yourself aflame, and when it dims to a certain point, he’s watched you rouse out of a dead sleep to stoke the coals and add more fuel. At first, he thought perhaps you were just prone to chills – he knows some people run cold when they sleep – but after lingering after one of your shared nights together, he came to realise that you’re actually more like a mostly-human furnace.

Then he noticed the way you linger around any sort of light source like a moth to a flame after the sun has set, and the way you fidget and glance over you shoulder every few minutes on the off chance your back is to the darkness.

He finds it strange. Granted, he thinks you’re strange for a variety of other reasons, but this pattern of behaviour is particularly puzzling to him. Which has lead him to his theory;

“You’re afraid of the dark.” He jests after watching you glance into the woods for the umpteenth time, aiming for teasing and realising he’s missed when your face falls into something akin to shame and discomfort.

You try to cover it with a scoff, rolling your eyes in a way he knows is meant to feign indifference, “I have far worse things to fear than the dark.” You spit those last two words, as if they taste bitter on your tongue. Firelight dances in your eyes as you keep your gaze trained firmly on him, even despite how much you look like you want too search for whatever it is you’ve convinced yourself is out there, intent on disproving him.

“True,” He smirks with a practiced ease, suddenly – strangely – desperate to ease the tension he’s just created, “But should you ever find yourself too afraid to sleep alone,” He leans in just a smidgen closer, grinning coquettishly, “My arms are always open.”

You snort, the tension in your shoulders ebbing just so as you chuckle, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“By all means, keep me in your thoughts as long as you wish, darling.” He hums, smile just a little softer than he intends when you genuinely laugh at that, the sound sweet and airy as it bubbles up from your throat.

“And with that, I’m off to bed.” He nearly mistakes incredulousness for fondness, but catches himself as you stand. Turning back for just a moment, you give him a smile so soft, it makes is gut twist with a feeling he’s a little unsure of, “Goodnight, Astarion.”

If he’d fed more recently, he’s sure his cheeks would be flushed. He blinks, clears his throat, “Sleep well, my sweet.”

Only days later, his theory is proven correct when you stumble upon some sort of abandoned cottage – House? Astarion’s not entirely sure – and, upon Gale’s insistence that it could be useful, decide to search it for wares.

“You do know there’s likely nothing of use in here, don’t you?” Shadowheart sighs impassively as she thumbs through a tattered book, slotting it back into place where she found it once she’s deemed it useless.

Gale huffs and rolls his eyes, “Well, we won’t know until we look, will we?”

“We won’t be finding much of anything if you two don’t quit your squabbling.” You quip before turning your attention back to the chest you were searching. You just barely lean into Astarion’s space, grinning impishly. He leans in just a little closer – only to hear you better, of course – as you whisper, “They’re like children, I tell you.”

Something shatters. You both turn just as Shadowheart fixes Gale with a stern look, “Hells, Gale, pay attention to where you’re going!”

“Wh- It’s not my fault!” Astarion raises a brow at their bickering, tutting amusedly, “Children, indeed.”

Huffing a laugh, your attention slides to a door on the far side of the room and move to investigate. After trying the handle and finding it jammed, it takes a good shove to get it open. The only thing that illuminates the small pantry is the light filtering in from the door you’ve just opened.

You seem content to simply skim over the contents of the room from where you’re standing until you spot something of interest, eyes lighting up with a little gasp.

Astarion takes your place in the doorway as you rush into the room after propping the door open with a nearby pail, curious, “What have you found?”

Snatching a little tin box off a shelf, you open it and beam, “Oh, I haven’t had this in ages!”

“What?” He asks again, a little impatient.

You hold it out to him, and when he comes closer to look over the lip of the tin, he finds a fair amount of shredded, aubergine coloured leaves inside.

He looks back to you, confused, “Tea?” “Tea.” You grin, holding it up to your nose and closing your eyes to revel in the fruity scent, “I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s delicious.”

With how delighted you are over finding it, he doesn’t doubt it.

“Well, at least we can tell the others our searching wasn’t in vain.” He turns, “Settle that dispute between Gale and Shadowhear-.” The toe of his boot bumps the pail, sending it rolling as the door swings shut and swathes the room in darkness.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but eventually, the door comes back into view, only now the faded sage green paint is a dull grey.

Just as he moves for the door, he’s startled by the clattering of metal and a loud bump. He whips around to ask what in the hells just happened, but the words die in his throat when he finds you pressed flat against the shelves on the far wall – which really isn’t that far considering there’s only about six feet between the two of you. He can hear your heart racing from where he’s standing, your breaths quick and shallow.

That theory he had just got a lot more important.

He calls your name and you flinch, gaze flitting in his general direction but never settling on him. You look well and truly petrified. “Darling, are you alright?”

It’s a terrible question considering you are very visibly not alright, but he can’t seem to come up with anything else fast enough.

“I can’t–.” Your voice cracks and you swallow, looking dreadfully close to tears as you squeeze your eyes shut and cover your face with your hands, “I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”

“Hang on,” After trying the handle, he finds the door is jammed no matter how hard he yanks. He considers calling for Karlach or Wyll, but thinks better of it, not wanting to frighten you further. They’ll notice the two of you are missing and come looking eventually.

“Astarion.” His name from your lips pulls him from his thoughts. He usually loves hearing you say his name, even when your cross with him. But when it comes out like a pitiful mix between whisper and whimper, he finds his heart twists uncomfortably in his chest.

He turns back to you and stalls. Unsure, helpless. He wants desperately to comfort you, but he has no idea how. He goes over the many different ways he could try, and the many different ways you could react, before finally, “Tell me what you need.”

After a moment of hesitation, you hold out a trembling hand and he steps forward to take it without a second thought. You tense when his skin first meets yours, palms wet with tears as your breath hitches. You tug him closer to wrap your arms around his middle and cling to him like a lifeline, shaking terribly as you bury your face into his neck. He secures you to him with an arm around your back and a hand cupped over the nape of your neck. He can feel your heartbeat stuttering under his fingertips when they settle over your pulse.

You’re still gasping.

“You need to breathe, lovely.” He says it gently, voice void of his usual coquettish flare. The nickname is softer than what he’s used with you so far, and it feels and sounds more earnest than it should. He tries not to dwell on it as he soothes his palm up and down the length of your spine, “Try to mimic me. I’ll guide you, alright?” You nod, and when starts coaching you through each inhale and exhale, you do your best to follow.

It takes several breaths, but eventually, they grow deeper and stop catching in your chest. Your heart slows. Not by a lot, but enough that Astarion can stop worrying that you’ll work yourself into a panic induced fainting spell.

He guides you through a few more before asking, “Better?”

You nod. With your throat dried out from crying, your voice is rather croak-y when you reply, “A little.”

“You sound like a frog.” It startles a laugh from you, the sound letting Astarion breathe a little easier.

“I do!” You sniffle, still laughing. It makes him laugh too.

“What the hells is so funny in there?” Lae’zel shouts from the other side with all her usual charm.

“Frogs!” Astarion shouts back, and you giggle a little more.

There’s a few loud bangs as one of your friends attempts to open the door. He can feel you flinch with each one until finally, it bursts open, blessed light washing over the two of you despite Karlach towering in the doorway. Your body sags with relief, and a little, involuntary sound escapes you as a new wave of tears threatens to spill, this time for an entirely different reason.

“What happened in here?” Gale asks, looking wildly confused as you slip out of Astarion’s arms and wipe at your cheeks hastily. “Oh, erm,” You clear your throat awkwardly, gaze bouncing between the items the fell when you backed into the shelf before settling on the tea leaves. You look genuinely disappointed as you gesture vaguely towards the small pile on the floor, “I found a tea I really like and got upset when I dropped it.”

“Ah. I see.” Gale nods, still obviously perplexed. If any of them find the explanation odd, they don’t say anything.

Shadowheart leans around Karlach, “We should get a move on. There are only so many hours before sundown.”

“Right. Yes, that’s a good idea.” You nod, clearly thankful for an excuse to get the hell out of there as you squeeze past them and lead them outside.

Much to Astarion’s chagrin, Karlach turns when she notices he’s hung back, “Oi, Astarion. What are you doing?”

He glances between her and the pantry before huffing, “Just... Tell them to wait a moment.”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously but agrees, leaving him to tell you and the others. He makes his way back into the pantry for a moment before jogging outside to join you.

It’s a good few hours until you make camp, and another few before he finally plucks up the courage to approach you near your tent.

You notice him striding over and smile at the sight of him, “Astarion! To what to I owe the pleasure?”

“I come bearing gifts.” He announces dramatically, hoping his puckish grin will be enough to mask how incredibly fucking nervous he truly is.

“For me?” You ask, cocking your head slightly to one side.

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, would I?”

“Well obviously, I just meant–,” You huff and shake your head, chuckling incredulously, “Never mind. What have you got for me?”

He holds out the tin and watches surprise and confusion flash over your face in quick succession before something unbearably soft settles over your features.

Taking it from him, you’re quick to pop the lid off. You gasp when you lay eyes on the contents, eyes wide when you look back at him with such wonder, it nearly knocks the wind out of him, “How did you–?”

“I salvaged what I could off the top of the pile. I– erm,” He clears his throat, “I thought it would be wasteful to leave perfectly good tea behind when at least one of us could enjoy what’s left of it. Irresponsible, even.”

You huff a laugh. There’s no mistaking the fondness this time.

“You’re absolutely right. That would be irresponsible of us.” Your smile shifts into something heart achingly earnest as you step closer and lean up to peck his cheek, “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.” He’s aiming for coquettish but it comes out too sincere to be convincing. That feeling twists at his chest again and it’s only now that he realises what it is.

He actually, genuinely cares for you.

Rattled, he feigns a yawn and smirks, “Well, as much as I adore your company, I really must be off to bed. Beauty sleep, and all that.”

“Right!” You seem to startle yourself with your own volume and clear your throat, chuckling awkwardly, “Right, of course. Goodnight, Astarion.”

He takes a mere second to mull it over before he throws caution to the wind and cradles the side of your neck in his palm, thumb brushing the curve of your jaw as he presses his lips to the apple of your opposite cheek. Before he takes time to actually think over his new found feelings and potentially freak himself out, he’s going to let himself indulge in you just a little while longer.

Pulling back, he brushes the back of his knuckles over the skin he just kissed, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

He can hear your heart thump, thump, thumping as he walks towards his own tent. The feelings he has for you are a new and rather inconvenient development. But if later he finds that he doesn’t particularly mind?

No one has to know just yet.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion x you #baldurs gate 3

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drylite · 4 months ago

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bucky, laying on his stomach, kicking his feet: hey, hey buck. do some math for me. please

buck: this better not be a sex thing john

bucky: (blinking coquettishly)

buck: (sighing deeply, multiplying large numbers out loud)

bucky: ohhhh yeah. yeah, that’s it. that’s the good stuff

#clegan

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q4evze · 8 months ago

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UMMM

♡ this has no specific person tbh i’m just trying to get back into the floww yk

♡ uhh cw: none really? idk what 2 say this is so vague HSJDKDLS

♡ a/n: guys uh 360 when ur in the mirror do u like what u see

you don’t say it but you think it, when he’s perched on your lap, hair messy and lipgloss kissed off and sweater sliding off a smooth, tanned shoulder you want to sink your teeth into. my gorgeous, charming, witty, sexy little thing. you are way too good for someone like me.

you’re snapped out of your reverie when the kisses he’s pressing into your neck get more insistent and he grinds down on your thighs, pawing at your clothes. “in me, get in me,” he whispers, clutching at your shoulders, tone urgent and pleading. “mmm, c’mon, please?”

i don’t fucking deserve you is what’s on your lips, but you laugh a little under your breath instead. “slow down, baby. i’ve got you.” you kiss him back, rough and messy, to keep him satiated while you try and shove your pants down from where you’re seated under him. it’s a little awkward in this position, but you manage to get just barely off enough to indulge his request. tugging his jeans over his hips, you reach a hand behind to slide a finger inside and you moan in unison when there’s no resistance. he clings to your neck, hanging on with breathy gasps sighed against your skin, working his hips down onto your fingers greedy as ever. “more,” he whispers with that sweet little sexy grin you can hear in his voice. if he was any closer you’re sure you could feel his eyelashes blinking open coquettishly. god, you can feel him in your blood sometimes.

you slap the side of his thigh admonishingly with your free hand. “be patient,” you chide, but give him another finger anyway, blood rushing to your head when it makes him whine and shiver.

he leans back, eyes squeezed shut and teeth tugging on his bottom lip, taking shaky breaths and trying to relax. you’re overcome with another rush of emotion that leaves you breathless and busy yourself with sinking your teeth into the side of his neck. the appreciative sounds he responds with make your head spin.

you suck blooming bruises halfway around his throat before insistent fingers start grabbing haphazardly at the fabric of your shirt again, trying to pull it up your back. “come on, i’m ready,” he says, too desperate to sound demanding. “want you inside me.”

you can’t help yourself when he makes it this easy, crooking your fingers and grinning against his heated skin. “am i not already?”

his gasp tapers into a whine. “you know—ah!—what i mean,” he complains, punctuating the sentence by grinding down hard into your lap. you have half a mind to tell him off again, but he’s perfect, and yours, and squirming on top of you, and your grip on control of yourself is slowly slipping.

“please?” he begs again, pretty dark eyes blown wide blinking open at you, and that’s all it takes for you to pull your fingers back and draw him into another searing kiss while he sinks down onto you. your thoughts begin to lose coherence at the feeling of warmth around you, letting you in, like coming home after a long day. you can’t meet his eyes but you can feel it, know how he’s looking back at you with that soft, enraptured vulnerability that begs— no, deserves to be made love to.

the intensity of his gaze makes your heart clench in your chest (too good to me, so good for me) so you resolve to break his concentration, burying your face in his shoulder and grinding your hips up. that earns you a blissful moan, so you keep at it, kissing and licking at the juncture between his shoulder and neck where the marks are already showing.

he’s always been a vocal lover and today is no exception, as he gets comfortable enough to start moving by himself, pulling you in with the wave his body makes, threatening to drown you. his sweet, breathy gasps and whines in your ear have your pulse rabbiting as you dig your fingers into his soft hips and help him ride as best as you can.

you know each other well enough by now that you can feel when he’s tiring, when the exertion catches up to him and he slips until he’s just grinding down on your lap, panting and whimpering. he doesn’t need to ask for you to shift yourself around and maneuver him onto his back, moaning in sync with him when you slide back home between his spread legs. his hair fans out like a halo, framing that vulnerable, blissed-out expression you can never get used to. there’s so much you can’t put into words, but your bodies may as well be infinite; at least like this, you can hope to be someone who deserves him.

kicking off your own clothes the rest of the way, you gently tug his sweater over his head. soft thighs wrap back around your hips, and you meet his blown-black eyes. he looks at you so adoringly, so trusting and imploring you have to look away. he’s so painfully honest in everything he does and the emotion rises in your throat before you can do anything.

your gaze falls on his soft stomach, and a different kind of feeling wells up inside of you, hot and hungry. is it even possible that you’re imagining the shape of yourself outlined ever so slightly? you thrust shallowly to test, and feel the heat rise to your face when the faint shape moves with you.

“can you see it?” comes his whispered voice. you glance up to find him equally red-faced and panting, staring down at where you’re connected. he rolls his hips down experimentally, whining at the feeling. “baby, i’m so full.”

like it always does, the heat between you roars to life like a bike engine. and you really can’t help it, pressing his knees up to his shoulders, to the limit of his flexibility, folding him almost in half to get impossibly closer, deeper, further gone.

you fuck him just like that, closing your eyes into the pretty cries and sobs you pull from him until shaking, sweaty hands slide up the back of your neck and pull you down into a messy kiss.

“so beautiful for me, aren’t you, baby?” you mumble, but he doesn’t respond, too busy coming for you, gasping and wide-eyed like it’s surprising him as it happens. and then you really can’t help yourself, pushing impossibly deep inside him as you follow him over the edge, digging blunt nails into sheets that surely have ripped under your rough grip. it’s his fault, really, for being so beautiful, you reason with yourself as your mind whites out.

and you don’t say it, but you think it, as he lays under you trying to catch his breath, satiated and content, grinning blissfully like he has everything he deserves, like you’re everything he needs you to be. sweet thing, why is it you waste your time with a fool like me?

and he laughs and brushes your sweaty hair out of your face like he can read your mind and sighs in that way that makes your knees weak when he says he loves you for the nth time. maybe someday, you’ll be able to believe it.

#UM #god i don’t miss tagging #uh #x reader #dom reader #top reader #nsft #dom!reader #gn reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #fanfic #smut #msub #????#spicy #diesssss tbh

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achlysyuu · 2 days ago

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When you say things to him that cause misunderstanding — Manjiro Sano

:a/n — im feeling quite generous today, so why not write another fluff before my motivation runs out. wc: 607 (short)

It's the anniversary of your relationship in a few days, you want to make a commemorative album to record your days together.

After you've bought all your crafting props, you selected a lot of photos to print out. You're primping the new hot melt, accidentally flipped the switch, the glue stick is heated and suddenly there's a big drop of glue. Unevenly, it also dripped right onto one of the few single photos he had.

It’s over ..you quickly turn off the glue gun, observing the extent of damage to the photo. Noticing the glue stains that had just dripped right onto his face.

But then, just in time, he pushed his way through the door. You're moving fast, hurriedly hid the photo behind your back.

It's not allowed to spoil the surprise.

Alarm bells go off in your mind and you move the photo to the corner of the table, getting up and running towards him yourself.

"(name)-chin—" he stood by the door rubbing his eyes as if he hadn't seen what you'd just done, just calling your name and cuddling towards you in a clingy manner.

Mikey hugs you, whispers in your ear coquettishly, and you pat his back and rub his face, softly saying, "You must be tired, Mikey."

Mikey takes kindly to your reassurances and rubs himself in your arms for a while, the tone of his voice sank back to a sudden seriousness. The person who has just been soft and enjoying your pampering was nowhere to be found. "What was (name) hiding?"

There's no surprise if he finds out that you’re making a handmade book..

You think this and stand on your tiptoes, subconsciously blocking his view. "I was.. looking at Mikey's photos! The photos when you went out to play before are very memorable!"

"Then.." Mikey’s eyes softened and he resumed his newly lazy look. "Then I'm going to watch it with (name)-chin!" he said, bringing you closer towards the table with him.

You steadied yourself in time to get in front of him again.

"No..no." you stop him from getting any further near the table.

"Eh? Why.." Mikey said with a bit of disappointment in his eyes.

You're too busy coughing softly and blurting out. "Because I just went overboard with Mikey's picture and haven't dealt with it yet!"

Much to your surprise, you see Mikey freeze, his pupils vibrating as he stays in place for several seconds. Something like getting glue marks on a photo is really over the top, isn't it, but is it that shocking?

You look at his perverse expression, and secretly think back to what you just said, clearly there is no problem, right? You looked at his perverse expression and secretly recalled your own words just now, clearly there is no problem?

"What's with you, Mikey?" you reached out and waved your hand in front of his face, trying to regain his wandering consciousness.

"I.." Realising that he had lost his temper, Mikey was stunned for a moment, his cheeks tinted with red little by little. Seeing you look at him with a puzzled look on your face. He reached out and gently stroked your hair, then turned his face away in a chirpy manner.

"So (name)-chin likes me so much.."

"Eh?" you blinked, why did he suddenly say something like that? "Of course, I have always liked Mikey the most!"

"Well, (name), next time you need me..just tell me directly.." Mikey turned his head and held you in his arms. "I'll grant all your wishes."

"Ah..Okay.." you were held in his arms, confused. Why does it feel like Mikey misunderstood something?

#manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #sano mikey manjiro #manjiro sano x reader #sano manjiro x reader #mikey sano x reader #mikey fluff #manjiro fluff

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elrielffs · 4 months ago

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Well, here it is. Part 2 of a Universe so Divine with Elain pov and this fic is complete! I don't think I'll be able to look ya'll in the eye on the timeline after you read this but I'm proud. I put everything into this and after writing it, I love Azriel and Elain even more. Please enjoy and leave a comment or send an ask if you want!

Tags/Warnings: Explicit Smut, Cunnilingus, Hand Job, Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk (so much dirty talk), Pure Filth, Romantic and Horny

Part 1 - god is my help (Azriel pov)

(you don't have to read part 1 to read part 2)

link to ao3 if you perfer

A Universe so Divine Part 2 - my god has answered me

They kissed with abandon—with lips and tongue and teeth and all the emotion that they repressed when not cloistered in a hidden universe of their own design.

Elain thought she knew what kissing was, already knew everything there was to know about the act but she had since came to the understanding that she knew nothing.

Kissing Azriel was like coming up for air, like a thunderstorm after a drought, like she had existed in a world of dull colors that exploded into vivid hues she had never perceived.

Kissing Azriel—being with Azriel—made her feel alive.

The necessity for air was the only thing that broke them apart, chest heaving and eyes locked together keeping them tethered to each other. Elain forced herself to push against his chest and rose to sit on her haunches, if only for a moment to reclaim herself before she was utterly lost.

The way Azriel beheld her as he was sprawled under her made her feel like her heart would burst in her chest. They didn’t need words, they never had and through their silent language Azriel always made her feel so adored, so beloved that her cup runneth over and she didn’t know where to place the excess. Only that she would fight with teeth and nail and claw to keep it all for herself.

She was the only one who got to see the mighty Spymaster of the Night Court undone like this. Toppled by her diminutive frame, wings splayed out under him with tousled hair, a glaze of lust in his hazel eyes that he directed at her alone.

She didn't shy away from it but rather reveled that she was his complete and utter focus. She felt powerful, confident, and in control, a heady mixture that she could never get enough of after a lifetime of being in opposition of the potent blend of emotions.

“I know that look,” he chuckled up at her, eyes boring into her own, challenging her. He gripped her hips hard to buck up into the aching, clothed apex of her thighs, punctuating his thrust with, “You want more.”

She bit her lip and nodded. She hadn’t always allowed herself to want more, hadn’t given herself the freedom of even thinking of what more could look like. She had accepted whatever people were willing to give to her, whatever they thought she deserved.

Now, in this new life, she found that she had changed in more ways than just her body. She did want more.

And she wasn’t afraid to ask for it.

“I want you to kiss me,” she declared and she purred in satisfaction as he didn't hesitate to oblige her, propping himself up on his elbows to reach her but she pressed her hand firmly against his solid chest to halt his advance.

“Not there,” she said coyly, blinking coquettishly at him as the considerate press of her hand sent him onto his back again. He lifted his eyebrows at her inquisitively for only half a second before the corners of his mouth turned up in smug understanding.

A great beat of his powerful wings to adjust and he positioned himself more comfortably on the blanket, before eyeing her enticingly, "Then come here and left your dress pretty girl.”

The pit in her stomach clenched in anticipation as she caged his body in on all fours and crawled on hands and knees till her knees rested above his shoulders. She sat back up and with shuddering fingers, grasped the hem of her skirts and lifted, revealing her gossamer underwear already soaked through with her slick.

Azriel took a deep breath, the expanse of his chest rising and falling to lift her slightly, as his hands resituated themselves on her bare hips, thumbs rubbing circles along her skin.

His razor sharp eyes flicked from her lower body to her own, acute and full of desire.

“Show me Elain,” his voice came out husky and low and male seeing her wet and wanting” show me where you want me to kiss you.”

She inhaled and fisted the majority of her gown in one hand against her waist while the other shakily reached down and slipped the gusset of her panties to the side, displaying herself in full for him.

A deep moan came from the back of Azriel's throat as he took in her entirely exposed for his viewing pleasure, a puff of air escaping his lips to titillate her already sensitive core. “So wet for me” he murmured low, sight unblinking as he looked at her, all of her.

‘Everything about you is lovely Elain’ she recalled him declaring and she knew he also meant this secret part of her.

Azriel tilted his head up to place a kiss against her inner thigh, lips warm and plush, so near to where she wanted his mouth the most and she felt her walls clench in eagerness.

“Divine…” he breathed as he began kissing up, up, up. She braced herself for contact of his lips finally where she needed him to be and let out a keening whine when he skipped her aching core to place a chaste kiss on the top of her mound instead, eyes laughing at her impatience.

“Keep holding you dress up okay sweetie?” He kissed the spot again, and if his intent was to drive her mad, he was succeeding. Elain gave a curt bob of her head and couldn’t stop the tiny thrust of her hips, aching and restless. She was going to die if he didn’t put his mouth on her soon.

“Hold your dress up and don’t look away while I devour this,” a kiss to her mound again, eyes locked onto hers as she tracked his every move ”pretty” a kiss to her right thigh, "pink” to the left “pussy.”

She didn't even have time to appreciate his words before he moved in and planted a bruising kiss on her swollen, pounding clit and began to consume her.

Azriel loved to feast between her thighs like it was his official position at the Night Court. He tongued her clit and pressed his lips against her like he was a man starved.

And through it all his golden gaze never left hers, making sure she followed his demand, making sure she witnessed him worship at the alter of her.

Elain wanted to throw her head back, moan her pleasure to the sky, wanted to drop her gown and entwine her hands in his dark locks and adjust his head and mouth just so, but she also wanted to be good. She so wanted to be good for him.

He was the only one she wanted to be good for.

It didn’t take long with Azriel’s skilled, sinful mouth for the coil in her belly to contract tight, ready to spring and inundate her body with that glowing sensation of gratification. Little gasps broke loose from her lips as she began to sway her hips against his face, giving chase to the beginnings of her unraveling.

“I’m close,” she panted.

He blinked at her sensually like a cat in admission that he had heard her before sliding his hands from her hips to glide up and around her thighs. He gripped both of her buttocks in his hands and squeezed as he began to assist in the grind of her hips, to force her to move faster and faster against his mouth and tongue.

“Azriel don’t stop, don’t stop,” her little mews turned into deep throated moans as she panted in time with the wild rocking of her hips as she reached her peak.

He didn't-- a moment and then she came undone on his tongue, profound moans breaking out of her small quivering form into the night air, her body threatening to topple over if not for the firm grip he had on her thighs.

Elain fought to catch her breath as she surrendered the hold of her body to him, as she lived in the sea of pleasure he had created. He waited patiently in the moments it took for her to come down from her high, one final deep exhale of air and she melted backwards into his hands.

His grasp on her slackened but didn't completely leave as he assisted her with raising herself from his shoulders and guiding her down to rest her bottom on his chest, to let her recuperate if just for a moment.

“Did you enjoy it?” he smirked up at her knowing full well that she did. Immensely.

“Do you have to ask?” she smiled back after finding her voice as he puffed up with pride. She grabbed one of his hands from her waist and brought it to her lips. "I always enjoy it," she praised into his palm closing her eyes and placing a kiss at the center, adoring the familiar texture of his skin on her lips.

She continued to leave a trail of whispered kisses as she turned his hand over to reach his knuckles and ghost her lips over each one. She progressed down his fingers, sending out little flicks of her tongue along the damaged flesh before reaching his fingertips.

Here she faintly parted her lips and enveloped his pointer and middle finger into her hot mouth and gently sucked. She heard the sharp inhale of his breath, felt his body become rigid under her and when she opened her eyes she noticed Azriel's gaze had darkened and a delayed tremor spread through his body culminating in nervous flap of his wings.

Then she felt it, the delicate questioning of pressure on her tongue. She fulfilled his unspoken request by pushing her tongue slightly through her lips and flattening the appendage for him to press down on, for him to fuck his fingers in and out of her mouth.

Saliva quickly accumulated and began to dribble out the corners of her mouth wrapped around his fingers, coating his fingers in her drool as the went in and out.

“Beautiful,” he admired and before it became too much, before she gagged, he stilled his movement and released the pressure off her tongue. Elain bit down lightly on his fingers before pulling them from her mouth, dragging them against her lips and leaving a wet trail from his spit coated fingers down her chin, neck and clavicles before coming to the top of her dress.

There she guided his fingers to quickly undo the flimsy string that held the dress together and continued to pull his hand downward, bringing the top of her dress with it so her breast were revealed. She didn't stop till the clothing bunched around her waist and then brought his hand back up and placed it over one breast.

Azriel sighed as if to himself and muttered, “So very fucking beautiful." Warmth spread from the top of her head to her toes at his compliments. Many people called her beautiful but it only mattered when he said it.

He didn’t hesitate to have his other hand join the first to cup both of her breast. His burned hands, the texture, made her want to melt as he kneaded her soft flesh, digits rubbing roughly over her pebbled nipples.

She bit her lip, the stirrings of desire that had begun again immediately after being sated making itself known in the clench of her tummy, in her still dripping cunt that now began to soak the front of Azriel’s shirt.

“You’re so good to me,” she purred, covering his hands with her own and forcing him to squeeze her breast hard, the flesh overflowing between his fingers. “I want to be good to you too.”

She removed her hands from his and maneuvered her arms until they were free of the sleeves of her dress as he massaged her breast, leaving her upper half uncovered to the night air. She then scooted herself down, his hands reluctantly leaving her, to situate herself below his waist, his noticeable bulge in front of her.

“You’re always good to me Elain," he said, bending his knees so she could lean on the tops of his thighs for support. He was always so considerate of her comfort, so in tune with her and her needs before she even realized what she needed.

She smiled at him boldly and then palmed him through the leather of his pants. A hiss escaped him full of throbbing need and want at her touch and she felt a pang of compassion that he had suffered in silence with his aching cock. Azriel always thought first and foremost of her pleasure, of giving but his pleasure was also hers.

His cock cut an impressive outline visible in his pants, thick and long and stiff. She was the source of his current predicament and she would take care of him, she would be good to him, if only after being a little bad first.

“Is this for me?” She teased, observing the way his pupils dilated, the way his fist clenched as she scraped her nails against the leather, running her pointer finger down the length of him.

“Yes,” he moaned, breathless and aroused, ”all for you.”

She hummed and began to undo the buckle of his pants, the familiar sounds of metal clinking sending a thrill through her at what came next. “All? I don’t know if I can take all of you Shadowsinger,” she taunted as she kept undoing the fastenings. Finally, she reached into this pants and pulled his cock out, proud and hard and dripping with slick on the top.

“You’re so big,” she praised wrapping her fingers around the considerable girth of him and rubbing her thumb along the slit at the top of his cock, spreading it around the head.

“We’ll make it fit,” he said, a pleading tone lacing his voice as she began to caress lightly up and down his length. As if she would deny him, as if she wasn’t already craving the delicious stretch of his cock in her cunt.

He was right of course. They would come together flawlessly, like they were made only for each other, that only they could satisfy their this burning incessant need inside. Elain felt her lower half pound in desire, thinking of the way he filled her up so completely, so utterly, that she ever forgot what it was like to feel empty of him.

She stroked him harder now, working him into a frenzy of passion. He threw his head back to hit on the ground, gripping her so tight she would bruise, his hips thrusting up into her hand as little piteous moans escaped him. She loved seeing him like this, undone and needy and yearning for her.

“Elain you need to stop," he breathed, lifting his head and prying his hands of her hips to her wrist to stop her movement. She didn't heed him, intent on giving him the same pleasure he had her, to give him what he deserved. "Elain," he chided again through clenched teeth, torn between letting her finish him to completion, to revel in the pleasure of her hand or in the tightness of her cunt. With that thought, he made up his mind. She made to move, to position herself so that she could wrap his beautiful cock in her mouth when he grabbed her shoulders and flipped them effortlessly until it was her back against the blanket and him above her, wings open to cover her in shadow, to hide her from the stars.

"If you kept doing that," he growled through gritted teeth, eyes wild like a predator observing their prey ," I wouldn't be able to fuck you."

He lowered his body to drape across hers, careful as not to exert too much weight on her smaller frame. He leaned into her neck and inhaled her scent before nuzzling under her ear, "And I so badly want to fuck you Elain." She felt the heavy weight of his cock twitch against her thigh in proof of his statement and her heart quickened in her chest.

“Then what are you waiting for?” She challenged him angling her head so her lips could press against the set clench of his jaw. He snarled and attacked her mouth, the tang of her still on his lips mingling with her saliva as they fought with tongue and teeth.

He rutted against her mercilessly as they kissed, jerking her body upwards with powerful thrust of his bare cock against her soaked panties.

“Azriel,” she ruptured their kiss, a messy line of saliva trailing from her mouth to his and had to turn her head as he chased her lips with his own, trying to claim her again air be damned.

“I can’t wait anymore,” she whined, fisting his shirt so hard in frustration that the collar loosened, exposing the bronze of his skin chest and the edge of his dark tattoos. “Put it in,” she begged, "please put it in.” Her nails dug into his uncovered flesh, leaving angry lines to mark her need but Azriel either didn't feel or didn't care.

“You want my fat cock?” he retorted to her plight, reaching between them and bunching her underwear in his hand, yanking with ease to tear them in half as she yelped. He then took himself in hand and rubbed along her folds, coating his shaft in her gathered slick before slapping the head against her pudgy clit with a wet smack.

“Yes,” she mewed up at him straining, sparks of pleasure coursing through her body as he rubbed the head of his cock against her tender clit. "Yes!" she cried out, wanton and shameless and desperate for him.

“Then take it pretty girl,” he growled into her ear, but placing himself at her entrance and slowly bullying the blunt tip of his cock into her sopping pussy inch by torturous inch.

Elain's mind emptied of all reasoning becoming consumed with the hard length of him as he immersed himself inside her, as he stretched her pussy on his cock to the hilt.

He stilled, staying like that as he panted wicked and hot into her ear, as she adjusted to the great girth of him. His body trembled with the effort, with the urge to take, take, take, to make her his in every way but she knew he would wait until she was ready.

“Does it feel good Elain?” he raised himself on his arms above her head and looked down, eyes blazing with desire and shaking with restraint ”do you like being stuffed full of my cock?”

She tried and failed to form words so instead she nodded up at him and bucked her hips to prompt him to move but he wasn't satisfied yet. He sat all the way up and peered down at her with a narrowed gaze, every inch an Illyrian warrior. “Tell me,” he demanded as he skimmed his hands from the tops of her thighs to her calves, gripping and wrapping her legs around his waist in preparation. ”Tell me how much you like it.”

He began to thrust lazily, tormenting her as he waited for a response.

Elain hurried to gather her fissured thoughts, slipping in and out of focus as his cock brushed every hidden part of her, making her whimper. He wouldn’t go any faster until she answered and finally she cut through the haze of her cock drunk mind to give voice to thought.

“I love that can I feel you moving inside me,” she panted, placing her hand on her lower stomach so she could feel the presence of his girth as he moved inside, molding her flesh around him.

“I love the burn as you stretch me open," she resumed and she felt him thrust hard into her to give emphasis to her words, causing her to give a sharp cry of pleasure. He crushed her thighs in a vice like grip as his pace picked up with her admission.

"I l-lo-lo,” she stumbled over her words as he rammed his cock into her squelching pussy over and over causing her breast to bounce in tandem with his thrust. “I love that I’ll be sore the next day,” she finally bit out in a rush, followed by a husky moan from the back of her throat.

And she would. She would feel the ache of him in everything she did tomorrow, in every movement, every step and would be pleased and thankful of the reminder of their time together, not that she would--could--ever forget. Even after they were long gone and the memories they had together was the only thing left of her, the echoes of them, of their being, would continue to exist in the ether of time until even time itself ceased to be and she believed even after that.

He startled her when he paused and pulled out of her completely and she couldn't stop the wail of dismay at the sudden emptiness she now felt.

But Azriel wasn’t done and she was mollified when he gently coaxed her to roll over onto her stomach and rise on her hands and knees. She felt him situate himself against the back of her thighs, lifting her skirts to display her ample bottom. He caressed her buttocks before his fingers harshly pressed into her flesh and he gave no warning before he penetrated her again, this time plunging his cock in swiftly and with a more punishing momentum that left her clawing the blanket in her fist and sobbing into the soft surface.

He didn't stop as he leaned over her, chest to back to murmur to her low and unsteady, “I love that you take my cock so well." He punctuated his sentence by short, hard thrusts that left her gasping into the ground. “You were made for me," he said guttural and full of possessiveness.

She was. She was. She wanted to tell him, wanted to say she was made for him and he for her, that they completed each other and complimented each other’s lives so well that she couldn’t ever imagine them being apart, that there was no part of her that wasn't engraved with the essence of him and him alone.

“Az…Azriel,” she she choked out, trying to imbue her voice with all that she couldn't say but it took too much, her mind entirely on him pumping his cock in and out of her with brutal speed, leading her to her ruin.

She never wanted him to stop fucking her. She wanted him always inside her, always moving within her until they were bones and dust and their blended souls danced among the stars forever.

“I’m going to breed you Elain,” he growled with a primal urge, his hand coming up under her to lay his fingers splayed against her own still on her lower stomach in suggestion. Their hands met and intertwined, a promise for the future. “Is that what you want? Want me to shoot my load into your needy pussy?”

Elain was long gone now, having surrendered herself to his cock, but through her pleasure filled haze she managed to respond. “Yes,” she breathed deep, a cloud of her own breath warming her face as her forehead rested on the ground. “Please cum inside me, fill me up, breed me breed me breed me…” she begged, not caring that she sounded like a bitch in heat as she dissolved into incoherent babbling and moans as he bounced her on his cock.

“Fuck Elain,” Azriel hissed from behind her as he snapped his hips in earnest, his rhythm falling to frantic, wild abandon, desperate. “Elain Elain Elain my Elain” he chanted like a prayer, like he was begging for mercy as he impaled her again and again on his cock.

“I’m yours! Azriel I'm yours,” she cried to him over the wet noises of him pounding into her, feral and untamed as tears came to her eyes and fell down her cheeks to soak the blanket.

She felt the hot ropes of his cum shoot into her, coating her walls at the same she reached her own peak, cresting the summit of their joining, her sight going white and sound blanking out that she almost thought she was having a vision. She died a million little deaths as she was fractured into pieces and put back together again and again with 'azriel azriel azriel' reverberating in her heart.

A few more finishing thrust and he collapsed on top of her but before she could take the full brunt of his weight he wrapped his arms around her protectively and rolled to the side, bringing her with him to settle her into the crook of his body, back to chest in an embrace. One of his arms slid under her head for support and the other wrapped around her waist where their hands once again weaved themselves together between her breast, next to her heart. He tucked his chin between her shoulder and neck so he could breath her in, and unfurled his wings around them partially cocooning them from the world as they recovered.

Elain lay there basking in the afterglow, safe and content with a satisfied throb between her legs and relaxed, listening as their hearts beat in tandem, slowing down and their mingled breath evening out as the world started to make sense again.

Night had fully fallen and with it came a chill but even though the top of her body was still exposed she was warm and cozy in Azriel's arms and the shelter of his wings. She could see through a small gap tiny fae lights illuminating the glade with a soft glow that shown through the membranous parts of his wings.

She never wanted to leave, to lay entangled with him like this forever, and it pained her because she knew they could not. The dream had to eventually end. She felt him tense behind her and knew he had come to the same realization.

“We have to go soon,” he murmured close to her ear and she felt the stab of his chin as he said the words as if they were piercing her heart. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she could hold the thought, the already spoken words at bay.

They were expected at the family dinner tonight and she would have to bath beforehand, to remove his scent from her no matter how much it grieved her. She would have to sit across from him at the same table, to be around him and not touch him, to not stare at his breathtaking beauty, to make sure not to pay too much attention to him, to act cordial, like acquaintances or friends, like the world didn't begin or end with him.

“I know,” was all she could muster to say, small and low, fighting to keep the quiver out of her voice. Her fingers absentmindedly played with his, rolling over and under as she tried and failed to think of a way to stay, to selfishly keep them here away from the world in their own universe.

“Just…a bit longer," she conceded, not quite willing to give up completely. She felt the dip of his chin, a nod, and his arms pulled her even closer to him.

They lay there a few minutes more and when she finally found the courage to move, to leave the intimacy and his warmth behind for now, he gripped her tight to him and she felt the moisture of his breath along her cheek as he whispered to her.

”I’m yours too.”

Her Azriel.

my god has answered me

#elriel #azriel x elain #elriel fanfic #azriel x elain fanfic #elriel smut #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #Azriel #acotar #pro elriel

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lionlena · 1 year ago

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Dancing With Your Ghost (JavierPeñaxreader) Epilogue

A/N:

Ok, so that's the end of this story. I started writing it almost 7 months ago, not really knowing where it would lead me and having the idea until chapter 6… Along the way, I abandoned this story for Joel… But sooner or later, my heart always missed Javi 🥺 I would like to thank you all for your comments and likes. Everyone who read this series enjoyed it. I hope you'll be happy with the ending🥰

Epilogue

Since Javier found out you were pregnant, theoretically nothing has changed. He still loved you madly, he still cared for you, you still spent magical Sundays, and he still worked hard on building the house.

On the other hand, everything has changed. Javier worked even harder and at the same time spent every free moment with you. Even if it meant driving half an hour into town just to spend twenty minutes of your lunch break with you, he did it. And of course, he couldn't keep his hands off you. And he fulfilled all your desires without blinking an eye, including sexual ones. You suddenly discovered that pregnant women can be very horny, but that was no problem for Javier. If he had to, he would fall on his knees in front of you every evening and listen to your moans with pleasure.

You also noticed that the bigger your belly was, the prouder Javier was. When you were walking through the city streets or sitting in a restaurant, he would always put his hand on your belly and look around with a cocky smile as if to say, 'Look this is my work. Thanks to me, her belly is swelling.'

It made you laugh, but at the same time, you didn't want to take away his joy. After all, he deserved it for what a wonderful man he was to you, for supporting you every step of the way and going with you to all your doctor's appointments. Thanks to this, you felt confident and your fears about your child's health decreased significantly. Everything was going perfectly.

When you were seven months pregnant, the construction of your house was officially completed. With a wide smile, Javier led you into your beautiful living room. And even though you had been there many times before, somehow knowing that everything was over filled you with delight and you looked at everything as if you were seeing it for the first time.

"Everything is amazing." You said with emotion in your voice.

Javier kissed you passionately while tenderly stroking your belly.

"It's all for you, my little ghost, and for our baby."

Then suddenly Javier knelt down on one knee in front of you and pulled out a small box from his pocket that contained an engagement ring. You were speechless at that moment.

"Y/N, you are the most wonderful person I have ever met in my life. You taught me that love is more than a physical connection, it is a connection of souls. You gave me peace and warmth that warms my heart. Please be my wife. Be Mrs. Peña. Let's have a little wedding next week."

You looked at him in shock and quickly said, "No."

Javier looked at you surprised, maybe even sad. "No?" he repeated quietly.

Seeing the fear in his eyes, you knew you had to fix the situation quickly. "No... I mean yes, but no."

This didn't help at all. Javier was still kneeling in front of you, now on both knees and tilted his head to the side, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. "Yes, but no?" He asked confused.

You took a deep breath and gently stroked his hair. "I want to marry you." You said calmly, and the sadness instantly disappeared from his face. "But not next week."

Javier smiled coquettishly. "What are you doing next week?"

You huffed and pointed to your belly. "I'm carrying your baby, in a week, in two... basically for the next two months."

He laughed softly and kissed your belly sweetly. "And? I still don't see the problem. One little extra guest isn't a problem."

You groaned in annoyance. "Javi, I don't want to get married with a huge belly... I don't want to be ugly and fat in my wedding photos."

Javier immediately tightened his grip around your waist, gently squeezing your ass and still kissing your belly.

"Mi amor, hermosa, cariño, how can you say such terrible things about my future wife? You are beautiful, the most wonderful, and I can't wait to see that beautiful belly in a white dress... Oh, believe me... This makes me get hard..."

You gasped in surprise as his hands squeezed your ass tighter.

"Javier..."

"I'm telling the truth." He kissed your stomach and looked down at you. "But I will understand and respect any decision you make. We can even have a big wedding next year if you want."

And suddenly, as usual, all your fears disappeared.

"Actually…" You started quietly. "You're right. I want a small, modest wedding and I want our baby to be born with your surname."

Javier smiled widely and gently placed the ring on your finger. Then he stood up and looked at you with eyes shining with joy.

“Y/N, I dreamed of this moment.”

He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, but it was a different kiss. It wasn't a passionate, hot kiss... Or hungry or longing... It was something completely different. It was a kiss filled with love and gratitude. Your heart was beating like crazy and suddenly you felt your baby move. You placed Javier's hand on your pregnant belly and he chuckled.

"Someone here is as excited as Daddy." You purred against his lips and he kissed you lovingly once again.

A week later, you and Javier were married in the meadow behind your house. You were wearing a plain white dress that fit your pregnant belly really nicely. You wore a wreath of white flowers on your head. It was surprising, but you felt like a princess. Everything seemed wonderful and so peaceful. You said 'yes' surrounded by your loved ones and friends, and then you all had fun together until late.

That night, Javier took you to your bedroom and made love to you in such a gentle and caring way as he had never done before. And he wasn't just doing it because of your pregnancy. He really wanted to prove to you that he will be the best husband in the world.

Two months later, after almost ten hours of labor, your son, José Peña, was born. You were tired after giving birth, but happy as you held your healthy baby in your arms. And for the first time, you saw former DEA agent Javier Peña cry like a little baby. When he took your newborn son for the first time and looked at this little miracle created with his help, so tiny that he could hold José with one hand, he just cried. And he wasn't even ashamed of it. He hugged his son to his chest and kissed his little head, whispering sweet words. It was a sight that melted your heart and you were sure that Javi would be the best dad in the world.

...

You woke up one night and Javier wasn't next to you. You felt anxious for a moment but quickly calmed down. You started listening to see if José was crying, but you didn't hear anything. Still, you decided to get up and look into his crib. However, your son and husband were nowhere to be found. Your heart started beating a little faster. Common sense told you that nothing had happened. Maybe José couldn't sleep, and Javier took him for a short car ride. It was something that quickly calmed your three-month-old baby. But Javi never did it alone. You quickly went out of the house to the terrace to check if there was a car outside and that's when you saw them.

Javier sat on a rocking bench with his son safely placed in his strong arms. For a moment, you wanted to be angry at him and tell him that he shouldn't scare you like that, but... It was such a sweet and adorable sight that it melted your heart.

However, you noticed that something was bothering Javier. He didn't take his eyes off his son's sleeping face. You carefully sat down on the bench next to him and touched his arm.

"Mi amor? What happened? José couldn't sleep?"

Javi still didn't take his eyes off the baby. He gently touched his son's chubby cheek with his finger.

"He was crying, but as soon as I changed his diaper he fell asleep, but I... I couldn't put him down in the cradle..."

You smiled and nodded. You knew this feeling very well. You yourself have held your baby in your arms many times after he fell asleep. However, Javier's next words surprised you.

"I felt a sudden fear. I was afraid to put him down... I was afraid that as soon as I let him out of my arms, something bad would happen to him."

You sighed and gently stroked his cheek.

"Javi, what's going on?"

Javier finally looked away from his son and looked at you. He smiled sadly.

"I don't know, cariño... The cocky, arrogant, and malicious DEA agent suddenly became soft and scared."

You giggled quietly. "You're still cocky and devilishly handsome."

Your comment made Javier laugh softly. You always knew how to cheer him up. He carefully placed your son on his chest, holding him with only one arm. So that he can wrap his free hand around you and pull you to his side. He kissed your forehead and whispered:

"I wonder if I've made the world a safer place for our son. Catching Escobar, and taking down the Cali Cartel, does it all matter? The world is still dangerous. Maybe retiring was a mistake. There are so many things that could hurt him. So many bad things, bad people. Now he's still tiny... For now, I can really wrap my arms around him and protect him, but then what...

You smiled at him understandingly. Javier always had a tendency to get lost in thought. Often unnecessary.

"Javi, darling. The world is dangerous, and we are not able to protect our baby from everything. This is the pain and fear of all parents. In a few months, our son will start walking and he will surely trip over a stone more than once. You want to remove all the stones from the area?"

Javi looked at you with determination. "If necessary."

You rolled your eyes.

"You know it's impossible, but you know what is possible? Our comfort. We will wipe his tears, bandage his hurt knee, and assure him that we are with him. And this is how we will keep him safe. At every stage of his life we will love him and accept him and thanks to this, he will know that he can always come to us and ask us for help.

Javier looked at you with eyes full of boundless love.

"You are very smart, hermosa."

You giggled quietly. "I learned a thing or two about life by being a ghost."

Javier laughed softly. Then he kissed you on the forehead and then your son. He looked at you with those puppy eyes of his.

"Can we sit here for a while? I don't want to put him in the crib just yet."

You nodded and snuggled into his warm, strong body. You looked at your son's calm face and realized that he felt exactly the same as you. That Javier Peña would do literally anything, even burn down the entire world, to keep you safe, happy, and loved. You closed your eyes and whispered, "We can stay here until morning."

You felt Javier hug you tighter and rest his chin on your head. You no longer needed words. Everything was perfect, right in that moment, when he held in his arms the two people he loved and needed most in the world.

...

Six years later, you still felt the same peace and security when you were in your husband's arms. You've had harder times, but you've always been in this together. You didn't hide anything from each other, you didn't fight each other. You loved each other.

Your son was healthy and growing quickly. From a baby, he became a small, charming boy who loved life. He was cute and feisty like his Daddy, but he was also calm like you... And he wasn't the only one.

Four years after your wedding, your little girl, Maya Peña, was born. And if you thought José was like his dad, then... Your little girl looked like a little copy of her daddy. Her eyes were identical.

And currently, she was looking at you with those sweet brown puppy eyes that were tearful and very tired. She put her thumb in her mouth and hiccuped. Her cheeks were red and the hairs on her forehead were wet.

"Oh my little one, you really need a nap."

"Papi…" She whined indistinctly and you already knew you had no choice.

You've been trying to put her down for a nap for the past forty minutes, but she's only gotten more grumpy and cranky. There was no other option. You must have to used a secret weapon. You took her in your arms and left the house, heading towards the horse paddock.

Your son was just sitting on a little white pony and looked very happy. His grandfather Chucho held the reins and Javi secured his son, but you knew that your little boy could handle it even on his own. So you walked up to the fence and waved your hand. Javi immediately said something to his son. You could only guess that he was asking him to hold on tight and be careful.

When he got closer to you and your daughter, he immediately noticed what the problem was and without asking, he reached out his hands, taking Maya away from you. His two-year-old daughter immediately snuggled into his chest and let out a few grumpy purrs. Javi chuckled and kissed her head.

"Someone here is tired but doesn't want to go to sleep?" He asked, knowing the answer perfectly well. "It's okay. Daddy can handle it."

He smiled at you and kissed your forehead, whispering. "I love you."

You smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Even after all these years, he still took every opportunity to make sure you knew how much he loved you.

"I'll go to José." You said and kissed your daughter on the head before Javier took her towards the house.

When your son saw you, he smiled broadly. Chucho gave you a friendly smile too.

"Is everything okay with the little princess?" he asked with concern.

You immediately felt your heart melt. Your children not only had a wonderful, loving, and caring father, but also a wonderful grandfather who always spoiled them and cared for them.

You nodded and moved closer to your son, placing your hand on his back.

"Yes, the heat today is just bothering her. But I'm sure Javier's magic will work on her and she'll be asleep soon."

Your son giggled (in the same way as his daddy) and asked, "Papi can do magic?"

You smiled widely and touched his sweet cheek.

"Yes, it always puts you and your little sister to sleep in minutes."

Your son eagerly nodded and added: "And he can turn ghosts into people!"

You laughed. This was your son's favorite story. Of course, Javier told your story in the form of a fairy tale, omitting the tragic moments and changing a few things. And of course, only you and Javi knew that it wasn't just a made-up story at all.

Half an hour later, your son finished riding the pony and, together with his grandfather, took the pony to the meadow so that the animal could enjoy the fresh grass and rest.

You came back home, quietly entered the living room and your heart beat faster.

Javier lay on the couch and slept with his baby girl, who was dozing comfortably on his broad chest. You saw them both calm and finally resting. You looked at them, enchanted, for a moment. Then you went to the kitchen and started preparing lemonade. You were sure that soon your son and his grandfather would come home, and then your daughter and Javi would wake up. And you all need a sip of refreshing, cool lemonade. Soon your quiet home will once again be filled with the joyful screams of children and the laughter of their father. And as always, Javier will grab your hips whenever he gets the chance, kiss your neck and whisper some dirty words in your ear, because some things never change.

And your love for the man who danced with your ghost will never change.

...

MASTERLIST

Part I

Part XII

Taglist: @aestheticangel612 , @kittenlittle24 , @hxpburn76 , @creedslove , @ranahx , @yyiikes , @fuglyputa24 , @picketniffler

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena and you #javier is so sweet #soft!javier #narcos fanfiction #fanfiction #dancing with your ghost #hurt/comfort #pregnant!reader #daddy!javier #javier pena is papi #happy ending

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dhampling · 1 year ago

Note

For domestic/smutty ideas, how about post-game sleepy morning sex with Astarion? 👀👀

hello anon! i loved this idea. bliss. got carried away and wrote 1.2k words. thank you for trusting me with the VISION. c/w: 18+, smut, feeding, x afab reader, p in v

Muddling some rosemary and freshly-squeezed bergamot with sugar in an ornate short glass, topping with a lick of aged brandy.

The sun rises outside. Your heavy-lidded lover watches from the bed.

Eight months since the fall of the Absolute - the first six of which spent on the road, the latter two in your newly purchased Upper City townhouse - and every single hour by Astarion’s side has been a magic of the kind you once only imagined being on this mortal coil.

Your days consist of a hazy mingling of both light and dark; no set schedule. A hedonistic respite following the journey of a lifetime - well earned, as assured by the chamber of city councillors, who gave you a fat stipend from grateful patrons and access to Astarion’s long-forgotten bank account (which had been sitting accruing interest on his decent magistrate’s salary for two hundred years) so there’s no need for urgency in your plans. Just a desire to make up for lost years you didn’t know you were ever possibly missing.

Sheets half-ruffled over one leg, the other atop the crisp linens; he perches coquettishly on an elbow, impatient head resting on closed fist. The expanse of his body just as devastating as it has always been. Planes of shapely chalkened muscle, lithe in porcelain.

In your bed he looks phenomenal. Cattish. Lazy and swimming in the mindless bliss of inaction.

You traipse back to bed and climb over him to your side, placing the aromatic on the nightstand.

“Hungry?” You ask as you wriggle in and half-under the sheets to rest a hand on your abdomen, shifting your robe so it covers your own form a little better.

“Famished.”

His smile is pure syrup. Dopey and fanged. You reach for a sip of the brandy and angle your head for him.

“Feed, lover.” You grin.

Ever-so-slowly his eyes fall from the hold of your own to the plane of your bare throat.

It’s a clean canvas, minus two blooming pricks enclosed in raised flesh, tender and flush; aching with his frequent feeding and your own neglect to heal in the aftermath.

He flattens his tongue at the nape of your neck.

The gasping hitch of a soft groan.

Cruises over the flesh from collarbone to jaw, wet as sin and winter-cool with his breath of frost; a reverent slow-dance, a chaste kiss in a cathedral hall. Late night on his lap by the docks. The only lovers left alive.

The thin layer of lick fast becomes a shallow clear pool over your current wounds and it becomes apparent that Astarion is salivating.

Drooling. Plush lips; lust-bitten, meeting the thin skin in slow sodden kisses.

Astarion lifts his head and your eyes meet once more as he lies just below you on his side. Reaches for your hand with his own, captures it in a twisting lock of his fingers. A sedate blink.

Asking permission.

In response you simply bring your body closer to his, and cradle his head with the inside of your upper arm. Slotting your leg at an angle between both of his in anticipation of his familiar need for friction.

You nod.

The initial blunt sting of his bite is as grossly nauseating as ever.

A small gouge of the flesh, a tug of the skin, and his incisors rock the torn skin back-and-forth; little-by-little, to open you wide and consume.

Blood intermingles with a coat of his own spittle and spurts pulse-rhythm from the holes into his wanting mouth; wet lips closing over your open wounds and suckling fervently. Your thick iron nectar paints the underside of his tongue.

Strings of expletives.

Praise.

The tips of his ears twitching violently in desire in the way you know that his cock will too.

He whines in ragged yearning between messy swallows.

You choose to feed him. To nurture, to please him. Tired and starving, you bring him to life. His want for you, his urgent need to consume you; his unending agony at the bestial nature of his condition turned innate lust by the fact that you choose him to bestow your lifeblood upon.

Eyes still heavy in post-trance tire as he feeds. The rut of his hips, a sounding board he offers into your thigh mindlessly. You feel it and look to his waist.

His newly-ruddy cock head leaks a familiar pearlescent sheen as he cants his hips back and forth in a primal hump, christening your upper leg and his tummy alike with the balm of his sticky preseed; slit brushing open with each blunt thrust and gushing something ungodsly.

You picture his euphoria as your own begins to bloom.

Feeding from you, weeping onto you; holding your warm form as if an extension of himself as he swallows, choking back praises as he feels you at the back of his throat, wracked with carnal fever.

Then he tears away from your neck with a hurried precision just as you feel the fuzz of bloodloss begin to settle. Sits above you and hooks a leg over.

When you dream, you dream of him like this. Laughing astride you on haunches, head thrown back; jawline firm with the hearty laughter of the morning gods and cascading ripples of amber through whitish curls. Swatting your curious hands from his divine face as you prod and poke, cock bobbing with his weighty tip bouncing against his abdomen while he reaches a hand to the apex of your thighs; and despite being so recently sated - he looks starving.

“What’s this, little one?’

His voice is pure butter. Palm, warmed by the heat of your blood; rests on the crux of your pubic bone with one finger settling atop your slit. Daring you to tell him to stop. You groan.

Then he dips just a little between them. A deep-satisfied laugh.

You’re completely soaked. Throbbing. Keening at his touch already, and he’s barely touched you; curling your hips to meet his friction and feeling the absolute shock of how wet you are in both warm cunt and dripping from the crimson drips of your neck.

He slaps your ass and flops back to lie on his side.

‘Lie into me, dove.’

You shudder at the crack in his voice, shifting quickly to curl into him and feeling his cock hot against your ass. Hard. Your hole aches.

‘Lift this leg for me now. Open up and bring it just -’

He brings your tense leg over his hip, giving his cock just the access it needs to penetrate the well of your desire.

The space between you feels colossal. You try to shift back onto him and he allows it, the fat head you seek rubbing gently along your spill.

‘- there. Now.”

Astarion burrows his arm under your lying side and cants his hips back fully one last time, huffing forward and burying his throbbing cock between your legs with a brutal thrust, inch by inch, until he has settled at the hilt and you’re on the verge of euphoria-dazed tears.

He’s a man on his deathbed, a man seeing the pantheon of the gods for the first time as each movement displaces a ridiculous amount of your own arousal onto his milky skin.

Panting, eyes lascivious and aflame.

You think you could spend eternity like this with him.

It doesn’t take long for you both to reach your peak.

The white heat is incredible. Spasming together, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from the cores of your bodies; aching, whining, groaning.

In the aftermath you wonder if he feels the sun the moment you cum together the way you do.

#astarion #bg3 #astarion x reader #my writing #astarion ancunin #answered #request #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #nsft #x reader

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medra-gonbites · 5 months ago

Text

When the Spirit Moves You

A one shot chapter for @bloodweaveweek 2024

Day 2 | In Vino Veritas

Word Count: 706

SFW - Alcohol, Comedy

Astarion did not care for the Tieflings. He thought it had been foolish to lose time and risk their own safety to serve the interest of a bunch of strangers. They did not even receive any prize for their trouble, beside some vinegar for wine. Not that he would be able to appreciate it even if it were the best vintage in the cave of the wealthiest baldurian patriar...

That night, everyone seemed to be having a good time; enjoying the party, dancing, mingling with each other and that frustrated him even more. How could they relax with that thing in their brain? How could they dance, knowing of the Absolute’s menace, looming over them. How could they enjoy themselves when Cazador’s goons could invade their camp at any point, drain them dry and take him to be enslaved once more.

Astarion tried to shake these thoughts off. He did not want to think of that now, but he could not help it. Luckily his contemplations were interrupted but the jarring sensation someone was watching him.

Indeed he was right. Gale was standing a few meters from him, a goblet of wine in his hand, staring at him with unwavering eyes. It was almost uncanny how intense the wizard's gaze pierced through him; he barely blinked at all.

Astarion got the hint and decided to make his advance. He suspected the other man would never dare; otherwise he wouldn’t be standing there like a tree.

Astarion relished seeing the other man flinch and blush at his approach. It was obvious his charm was taking effect on the mage.

“Darling, what can I do for you tonight?” The vampire asked candidly, fluttering his eyelashes a bit too much.

“Nothing… I…” Gale stuttered shyly.

How adorable.

“I was standing downwind from you…” He continued.

Astarion eyebrows shot upwards, surprised by such an odd sentence. Gale pinched his lips together in regret. He probably had not meant to say this outloud. He looked inside his cup, silently accusing the red liquid with remorseful eyes.

“So it seemed.” Astarion chuckled.

“I did that on purpose….” The wizard added, supposedly trying to explain himself, “I really like how you smell.”

This revelation left Astarion speechless. He was not sure if he found that confession incredibly creepy or hilarious. He decided on the latter but had to fight hard to refrain from bursting out laughing in the wizard’s face; this man was the silliest person he had ever met.

“Are you flirting with me, Gale?” He asked instead, coquettishly twirling a finger in one of his silver curls.

“No….” the man answered.

He was blushing way too much not to be lying. He liked the vampire. This was Astarion’s chance to set his plan in motion. He would have sooner chosen Wyll or Lae’zel to be frank, as they were seemingly stronger, but a master of the weave was a powerful ally all the same. Plus he was touch-starved and ridiculously romantic: therefore an easy target.

Astarion reached out and gently brushed the fingers holding the silver cup.

“You know, if you want to catch a better whiff of my scent… Or even a taste… I know a place nearby. Quiet and remote. We could get to know each other a little better then?”

Gale choked on a hiccup. His eyes darted around and he seemed to panic. He put his cup down and backed away.

“Yes… No… I was just sniffing…” He started

Gale interrupted himself with an embarrassed groan.

“Shut up, Gale! That’s inapropriate!...” He reprimanded himself. Then to Astarion, “Apologies… I’ve had far too much wine and you not nearly enough to put up with my… Quirks… Please forget I said anything

At these words the mage practically ran away, flustered. This was for sure an amusing sight but it did derail Astarion’s plan. He did not expect to be rejected. That nearly never happened. His eyes followed the purple silhouette stumbling around camp and he could not help but smile. A smile he was not aware of and that he promptly wiped off his face when he realized it was etched there.

There was no time for fondness, or endearment. He would reiterate his attempt another time…

#bloodweave #gale x astarion #astarion x gale #galestarion #gale/astarion #astarion/gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #astarion ancunin #astarion #bloodweaveweek2024 #bloodweaveweek #bwweek #blood weave #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction

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sylviesoothsayer22 · 2 months ago

Text

Well Matched - Chapter 3

Galanthus nivalis

Summary:

The ethereal butterfly led Wei Ying right into a place only known to him through folktales. Ghost City had an odd and chaotic pull that tugged at the young ghost. Another time. He'll gladly explore every nook and cranny in this city, but right now he needed to secure an audience with the city's lord.

Hua Cheng had heard so many rumours related to the Yiling Laozu and he was prepared to satisfy his curiosity with this one meeting. Not at all prepared for how unpredictable the young ghost could be, he receives the most shocking proposal he's ever heard.

Link to Chapter 1: https://www.tumblr.com/sylviesoothsayer22/767249587576651776/well-matched-chapter-1?source=share

Link to Chapter 2: https://www.tumblr.com/sylviesoothsayer22/768071739996618752/well-matched-chapter-2?source=share

Wei Wuxian blinked at the peculiar sight. His face tickled as the butterfly crawled from his nose to his still wet cheek. Right on his tear tracks.

He slowly plucked a nearby flower and offered it to the creature. Trying to coax it off his face. The butterfly wasn’t interested. Instead, it flew away and hovered near a forest path that he was sure wasn’t there before.

The butterfly appeared to be waiting for him.

Wei Wuxian followed.

He was led to a valley and found Wen Ning palming empty air. Wei Wuxian could sense the overwhelming Yin energy permeating from where his subordinate’s hands were pressing. Wen Ning felt his approach and turned to him.

“Wei-Gongzi.” Said Wen Ning. “It appeared again, but it won’t let me through. Look.”

He tosses a rock, the air before them shimmered and the object stopped in mid-air before being dropped to the ground.

Wei Ying watched this with calculating eyes. He glanced at the butterfly, now hovering near his shoulder before grabbing his own rock and throwing it. Once it reached where the entrance is supposed to be, it disappeared.

“…..”

“It seems that Crimson Rain is inviting me.” He remarked. He looked back at the butterfly.

“Can you take me to him?”

After promising Wen Ning that he’ll back within an hour and that he’ll be careful, he approached the shimmering wall.

As soon as Wei Ying passed through the barrier separating the world of the living from the dead, he was met with a sea of red.

He found himself in a street that stretched out endlessly. Bustling stores and stalls line both sides of the street. The crimson lanterns hanging above were painting the night sky in its bold hue. All kinds of supernatural beings crowded the area. Be they ghosts, demons or anthropomorphic beings. Many of them donned masks displaying happy, angry, crying faces. Ghost fires of varying sizes darted between the people, who hardly seemed to notice them.

For a moment, all Wei Ying could do was stare. A child-like part of himself that he never grew out of wanted to do some exploring. He stomped down on the temptation and looked back at where the butterfly was hovering.

It wasn’t there anymore.

While looking around for the ethereal creature, he accidently made eye-contact with what appeared to be a pig butchering meat.

Human meat.

Wei Ying snapped his head forward and walked away.

Nothing to see here. Nothing to see….

He wasn’t left wandering aimlessly for long.

Thin, claw-like fingers wrapped around his bicep and stopped him in his tracks. Wei Ying snapped his head at the hand’s owner and was met with the sight of a ghost lady in revealing clothing. The heavy makeup did little to conceal her rotting face. For a few heart-stopping moments, their eyes locked. He felt a twinge of worry and wondered if she recognized him despite the plain black mask hiding his face -Wei Ying put it on just in case he ran into the people he’s killed here. She blinked at his appearance before giggling coquettishly.

“Hello, little gege. You seem new around here. Would you like me to show you around?”

Wei Ying forced his shoulders to untense. He gave the lady an impish grin.

“Sorry, jiejie. You’re not exactly my type. But…” He presses a heavy pouch into her hand. “I’d love to hear more about this city.”

The lady’s smile widened.

“Oh?”

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

He made his way to the Gambler's Den and was greeted with a cacophony of noise. Wei Ying chose to ignore the shouting of bets being made and checked his surroundings. Nobody inside matched the Ghost King’s description and he couldn’t see a figure sitting behind the red curtain. Crimson Rain’s usual seat was empty.

He spotted another ghost well on his way to passing out on a table. Wei Ying approached the drunk and asked about Hua Cheng’s whereabouts.

“Chengzhu….?” He slurred. “Ya just missed him. Better luck next time.”

“Is there any other way I can gain an audience with him?” He pressed. Now getting just a little annoyed at his situation.

The drunkard just laughed at him in response and threw his drink at Wei Ying, which he barely dodged.

After being laughed out of the building, Wei Ying put as much distance between himself and the den. He stopped at a secluded alleyway and shook off the excess wine from his boots, all the while cursing his luck.

Wasn’t ‘Chengzhu’ the one who led me into the city? Why hasn’t he approached me yet? Or was I supposed to go to him?

He felt a prickle at the back of his neck. There was a presence right behind him. He quickly turned around and saw a youth in rich maple robes watching him with hooded eyes. The youth curiously titled his head to the side.

“You seem to be new around here, Gongzi. Would you like me to take you somewhere you can stay for a while?”

Wei Wuxian arched a brow. “I can hardly believe you’re helping me out of kindness. What do you wish in return?”

“Oh, nothing much. Merely a moment of your time.” The youth smirked.

Wei Ying examined the stranger for a moment. Something was off about this man. Deciding to test the other male, he called out:

“Chengzhu?”

The youth’s smirk widened.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

They were at an inn that has clearly seen better days. The only individuals occupying the building were them and the innkeeper who seemed determined to put as much distance between himself and the two powerful ghosts.

Both Calamities were sitting at a table opposite from one another. Gazes constantly assessing. Wei Ying took in the sight of Crimson Rain. The older ghost was often described as a devilishly handsome man, wearing an eyepatch, blood-red robes with silver vambraces and a red pearl dangling from his hair. As of this moment, the man in front of him resembled a rich merchant’s son and not the Ghost King of legend. He didn’t even reveal his true form despite them sitting somewhere private.

Maybe he just really likes putting on disguises? He mused. Not sure what to make of him.

He doesn’t think that the dark eyes trained on him were supposed to be intimidating, though. Wei Wuxian felt like an art piece being inspected rather than a wild animal carefully watched for sudden movements. It wasn’t frightening, per say. But he felt oddly…open. He refused to let his discomfort show and took a swig of the wine served to them.

“So…” Crimson Rain drawled. “What exactly is your type?”

He nearly spat out his wine.

What the….?

The bastard let out a snicker at Wei Ying’s expression.

He was trying to fluster him!

Two can play at that game, Chengzhu.

“Why? Think you have a shot?” He snarked back with a smirk.

The other man’s eyes widened for a moment before he let out a surprised laugh. Strangely enough, Wei Ying felt some of the tension leave his shoulders at the sound.

“Why did you let me wander around your city? Why not just meet me right away?” Wei Ying asked curiously.

“Judging by your attempt at a disguise…” Crimson Rain began while briefly glancing at the mask Wei Wuxian had put aside. “Me coming to you directly would’ve attracted a lot of unwanted attention. So, I led you here. You wanted to remain innocuous, no?”

Huh.

It never crossed Wei Ying’s mind that Crimson Rain could be considerate.

“I still haven’t mastered shapeshifting yet.” He admitted sheepishly. Might as well return the man’s kindness with a little honesty. He knew the mask made for a poor disguise, but what else could he do?

Crimson Rain snorted.

“It appears that the Yiling Laozu isn’t brilliant at everything.” He remarked laughingly. “You’ve been causing such a ruckus, you know.”

“And yet, you still decided to meet me?”

“Hmm. Call me curious. You’re quiet the intriguing case.”

Wei Wuxian arched a brow.

“Am I truly?”

The Ghost King leaned forward. Dark eyes glittering beneath the low candle-light.

“People have had their eyes on you for some time. Many from the Ghost Realm and even some from the Heavens.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened in surprise. Hua Cheng’s lips curled upwards. Humoured by the other ghost’s shock. He leaned back in his seat and continued:

“First, you were the only living being who founded and mastered demonic cultivation. Then you became the first Calamity born after near a millennium. One who didn’t even take the usual route to gain Supreme status.” Wei Wuxian blinked owlishly at that.

“There’s another way for ghosts to get this kind of power?”

“There are. But you becoming a Supreme after only being a dead for a few months would be considered…. highly unusual.” Wei Wuxian could practically hear the silent question within the older ghost’s words.

“Guess I’m just special.” He deflected. Wei Ying had a pretty good idea on how he gained such power so quickly and he did not want to open that particular can of worms. Hua Chengzhu was just gonna have to live with his curiosity unsatisfied.

Crimson Rain let out an amused huff, but didn’t press any further on the matter.

Wei Wuxian decided to stop beating around the bush.

“I’m not here to talk about my rank as a ghost.”

“Of course. We’re here to discuss on whether you and your people can stay here in my city.”

“It’ll only be temporary.”

“Oh?” He can hear the faint note of surprise in Crimson Rain’s voice. “I was under the assumption that you couldn’t create a realm of your own under the risk of attracting attention from your former allies.”

“I came up with a few ideas on how to make a ghost village. Undetected.” He revealed. They were only ideas, unfortunately. Who knows how many experiments it’ll take until they bear fruit?

“Have you now?” Wei Ying can see the sparks of interest shimmering in the other man’s eyes. “Ah, but I shouldn’t expect less from the Yiling Laozu.”

Hua Cheng held out his hand. Wei Ying looked at it confusedly.

“May I see the inventions that you’re hiding in your right sleeve?”

Wei Wuxian felt a spike of frustration, along with a hint of worry. The conversation seemed to be going around in circles, yet Wei Ying knew that he couldn't simply refuse Crimson Rain -completely forgetting that Hua Cheng just asked for his consent. He pulled out the pouch and handed it to the older man. Trying to not let his agitation -and nervousness- show. Judging by the amused glint in Hua Cheng’s gaze, he was doing a poor job.

Hua Cheng pulled out an emerald marble from the pouch. The sphere was emitting faint whiffs of green smoke. He held it up against the candle light. Inspecting its pulsing shell.

“Did you come up with this while on the run?”

“No. It’s an old invention from the Sunshot Campaign. Why so fascinated with my weapons? Don’t they seem amateurish to yours in comparison?”

“I might be looking for a tinkering partner.” Hua Cheng replied vaguely. Wei Ying’s expression twitched disbelievingly. “Why didn’t you use this weapon in your war?”

Have I had his attention all the way back then?

Wei Wuxian… wasn’t sure on what to feel from having someone fixated on him like that.

“I didn’t have precise control. It would’ve affected both my enemies and allies.” He reluctantly admitted. “Why the need for a ‘tinkering partner’?”

“Does there have to be a need?” Hua Cheng asked rhetorically. “Perhaps, I’m just bored and you can keep me entertained.” He smirked before putting the marble back in its pouch. The elder ghost began examining a jar full of black seeds.

“Last I checked, you had around fifty Wens under your protection. Now, you seem to have twice that number.” Wei Wuxian smiled humourlessly.

“I have a habit of picking up strays.” He remarked dryly.

“Who knew Yiling Laozu would be so charitable?” Hua Cheng asked, amusedly.

“Who knew Crimson Rain would be such a curious cat?” Wei Ying retorted. Hua Cheng chuckled in response. He put aside the spiritual tools and turned back to the younger ghost.

“I have no issue with the Wens residing here in my city.” Wei Ying connected the dots.

“But you need to keep a powerful ghost close to you. If it’s under the guise of a tinkering partner, then the residents won’t panic.” Hua Cheng’s eyes crinkled in delight.

“I figured you’d catch on fast.” He commented, clearly pleased. “This place runs on gossip. Half the city is already aware of your presence here. Despite your…. less than stellar disguise.”

Wei Wuxian winced in slight embarrassment.

I should really improve on my shapeshifting skills.

“I can’t take you up on your offer.” He stated. A part of Wei Ying felt oddly guilty for his answer.

“No?” Hua Cheng looked faintly disappointed. “Not even to trade blueprints or theories?”

“I can’t.” Wei Wuxian stressed. Thoughts on the Yin Tiger Tally and the disaster it spread on the forefront of his mind. He tightly gripped his thighs. Knuckles turning white. Never again was he going to carelessly create such a weapon.

“You’re afraid.” Crimson Rain observed. Expression softening slightly. “You needn’t worry. I won’t force you to create anything harmful.”

Wei Ying still shook his head no.

“Even if I were to create something without the intention to harm, someone smart enough could still find a way to weaponize it. I don’t mean you.” He hurried to say after noticing Hua Cheng’s frown. “I’d just like to keep my ideas to myself for now.” Wei Wuxian swallowed before continuing:

“Chengzhu.” He addressed respectively. “From what I understand, you need incentive to show the people of Ghost City that I’m not a threat, yes?”

At Hua Cheng’s nod, Wei Ying undid the ribbon holding up his hair.

“Hold out your hand.” The older ghost raised a brow at that, but decided to humour him. Once Hua Cheng felt the ribbon brush against his hand, his expression transformed from curiosity to shock.

“What’s this…?”

“Insurance. Now I can’t do anything to hurt anyone and your people can rest easy.” He replied as he tied the ribbon off.

“….is this a bluff…?”

Wei Wuxian solemnly shook his head. Hua Cheng stared at him for a few seconds. An unreadable expression on his face. Suddenly, he burst out in a fit of laughter. The Ghost King clutched his sides and curled in his seat. The ribbon now tightly bound to his right wrist. The younger ghost tried not to look too startled at the strange reaction. He waited for the other ghost to calm down.

“I can’t decide if you’re brave or dumb.” Hua Cheng stated, breathlessly. Wiping away at the tears from the corner of his eyes.

Alright. That’s a fair assessment. Considering what he just did.

Wei Wuxian responded with a shrug and a cheeky grin.

If only he knew the meaning behind the act, he’d realize how audacious this looks….

“You do realize that you just gave me the means to destroy you, yes?”

“But you won’t.” He replied confidently. He wasn’t worried. Besides, this is hardly the first time he put his life on the line.

“And what makes you say that?”

“I’m too entertaining for you to toss aside so quickly.” Wei Ying stated with his signature grin.

“How presumptuous of you.” Hua Cheng snickered.

“How can it be presumptuous when it’s the truth?” Wei Ying retorted good-naturedly.

The Ghost King shook his head. Still in disbelief. He looked down at the ribbon and curiously stroked it with his fingers. Wei Wuxian suppressed a shiver at the action.

“You’re even more interesting than I initially thought.” Hua Cheng admitted. A strange lilt in his tone.

“Hope you won’t get bored of me eventually.” Wei Ying quipped offhandedly. Ignoring the weird churning in his stomach.

“I sincerely doubt that.” The Ghost King breathed out. An odd gleam in his eye that the younger ghost chose to ignore.

It was only after Wei Wuxian finished his talk with the city’s lord, did he seriously think back on the older ghost’s strange reaction to the ribbon.

“Little gege!” He heard a familiar voice call out to him as he walked back the way he came. Wei Ying turned to the jiejie he talked to earlier. She smiled at him.

“How did it go? Did you manage to have an audience with Chengzhu?”

“Ah. Yes, I did. Thanks for the help.” He answered before giving into the thought that’s been niggling at him for the past few minutes.

“Say, jiejie. Is there a special meaning behind giving a Ghost King your ashes?”

“Oh, wel- You did what?!”

Chapter End.

Author's Note:

*Galanthus nivalis: known better as Snowdrops. The flower symbolizes hope, new beginnings, resilience, tenderness and vulnerability. This entire chapter is mostly in Wei Ying's POV and we only get a tiny glimpse of HC's inner thoughts near the end. WWX feels as if their first meeting is about to start something quiet new and different compared to what he's used to and he doesn't know what to feel about that. So, he falls into his familiar confident and shameless façade in order to hide his discomfort. HC is willing to offer safety in exchange for a light-hearted companionship, but WWX misinterprets his offer and assumes that HC just wants something out of him. So, he gives him his ashes as both a bargaining chip and a shield against making potentially new weapons. Completely unaware of the social connotations of such an action and that he just opened himself up more to the Ghost King.

BTW: HC will hold this act over WWX's head for the next century. You do NOT just accidently propose ghost marriage to Crimson Rain and expect him to let it slide.

Omake:

HC: *sitting contemplatively at his office. Occasionally brushing his fingers against the red ribbon tied around his wrist*

YY: *walks in, sees that Chengzhu’s ‘busy’ and was about to go and handle the work on his own -again*

HC: Yin Yu.

YY: *halts* Yes, Chengzhu?

HC: Make sure to empty your schedule by tomorrow. I need you to start planning mine and Lord Wuxian’s wedding.

YY: Of cour- Wait, what?!

I also included/edited in omakes in the previous chapters. Hope you enjoyed!

Be sure to leave a like and/or drop a comment!

Many thanks~

11 notes · View notes

toshidokii-writes · 7 months ago

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i'm melting in your hands, go on, make your demands

a price x oc smut that i just finished like two weeks ago, this is my first time ever writing smut so please be kind :')

also on ao3 18 + content!! minors do not interact! words: 9352 ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ☀️ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Six months. That’s how long Spencer’s torture had been going for.

Okay, that was too much, even for him. His “torture” was constant flirting and his torturer, Captain Price. A broad shouldered, gruff, strong bear of man that Spencer has wanted to climb like a tree since he first laid eyes on the older man maybe ten years ago.

He’s always been too repressed and, frankly, nervous to ever make an actual move. Off handed flirty comments here and there, but he made those to everyone. Then, one day six months ago, Price had started making his own little comments. Flirtatious words spoken over comms where everyone could hear, said to Spencer specifically, words meant to fluster and shut the younger man up and they always succeeded.

But Price didn’t stop at reciprocating to shut Spencer up during missions. No, then it escalated without Spencer even initiating it first. Looks of interest in warm blue eyes, a piercing look Spencer knew was only for him. The young man doesn’t want to think about how that look makes him feel.

Six months of torture later, it was Valentine's Day. The one day a year that people are allowed to freely love; he could see that with Siren and Ghost, a bitter jealousy that created a sense of distaste in the back of his throat like old coffee. Spencer knows that it isn’t fair of him to be jealous, that Siren and Ghost both deserve to be happy with each other, that he doesn’t deserve to interfere. Knowing and understanding don’t stop the feelings.

So here he is on Valentine’s Day, sad and jealous and alone, pacing his room trying to decide if he should take Johnny’s offer of going on leave with him. A half empty suitcase sits on Spencer’s bed, most of his civvies and fancier clothes thrown around from his indecisiveness, the soldier himself dressed only in gym shorts and socks.

A knock on the door of his quarters made his ears perk. Who was knocking at this hour? John Price’s voice almost startled him when he started. “Wasp, can we speak, perhaps in private?”

The sound of his captain’s voice both soothes and excites the younger man, the deep baritone of Price’s voice sending a thrill down Spencer’s spine. He debates pretending to not be in the room or asleep, but Price has already heard the young man’s pacing steps around the room stutter to a stop. He bites his bottom lip in thought before sighing and resigning himself to whatever happens.

Spencer scours the floor of his messy room, throwing on a random t-shirt before his sock-covered feet pad over to answer the door. He opens it slowly, peeking out from behind it and blinking owlishly at the older man. Wasp smiles softly at Price, raising an eyebrow and hoping desperately to hide both his nerves and excitement.

“What’s happened?” He asked, the accent trilling off his tongue. His voice is soothing and sweet, like honey to Price's ears despite the raspy edge to it. “Is there something on?”

“No, no.” His boss’s words soothed him somewhat. “Nothing’s on, mate, no need to worry so much.” Price leaned against the doorframe, a whole four inches taller than the younger man and still taller even when he leaned over.

It was hard not to be intimidated by him… but let's be honest, it kind of turned Spencer on. He found himself waiting for his words, blinking up at the man coquettishly.

"Take a walk with me." Price offered, it was simple, something personal and light.

Heartbeat fluttering in his chest, Spencer’s soft smile widens slightly. "Sure. Where to?"

Price doesn’t respond with words, instead just grinning at the young corporal and motioning him to follow. Spencer huffs and rolls his eyes at the older man’s unnecessary secrecy and pushes his captain out of the doorway to change into something more appropriate.

He steps back out of his quarters, now dressed in pastel pink velvet pants, a heart stitched into one of the back pockets, white ankle boots on his feet. He wears a simple white t-shirt with pink heart shaped sunglasses resting on top of his head even though he knows the sun has already set. He looks around, finding Price leaning against a nearby wall, a lit cigar between his fingers. The captain looks up when Spencer steps out, smiling softly at the young corporal.

“You look great, handsome.” The compliment made Spencer blush. “Are you ready?”

God, the corporal thought, he’s such a dilf. He, almost too eagerly, went to walk by his side as they started to leave base. Most of the soldiers still in uniform paid them little mind, they were used to Spencer’s outfits as he commonly left base with the rest of the Task Force for karaoke nights at the local bar that’s popular among off-duty officers.

His thoughts went momentarily to Siren, would she be jealous if she saw him with Price? Confidence flooded his veins and left his core feeling guilty, but all of that disappeared when Price’s baritone invaded his ears when they were safely off of base and out of earshot. “I believe we’ve had a little…” His boss seemingly fought for his sentence. “Chemistry, I hope that’s the right word, lately.” Yes, lately… literally the last six months. Spencer keeps his slightly bitter and overly sarcastic words to himself, snorting at Price’s words. “Lately? Feels like it’s been much longer, sir.” The young man says, playful with his words, trying to keep the mood light as the two walk from the base. He briefly thinks about the fact that he has no idea where Price is taking him, then realizes he doesn’t particularly care. Spencer decides to stop thinking about it too hard, the young man too curious to refuse the captain’s offer. Price chuckles lowly, his voice comforting in Spencer’s ears, filling him with the same warmth that invades his brain whenever he gets praise from the older man.

Wasp grins cheekily up at his captain as the older man raises an eyebrow at the corporal’s snarky words. Price blows cigar smoke from one corner of his mouth, making sure to turn away so it doesn’t blow in the other man’s face.

Spencer stares as the older man blows out the smoke, eyes locked on the way Price bites down on the end of the cigar. He chokes back a whine, face flushing red as he quickly snaps his head down to stare at his feet.

Price turns his head to look at his underling, the swift movement catching his attention. “You alright?” His voice sounds concerned but there’s a knowing spark in his eyes.

Spencer nods, still not quite meeting the captain’s eyes. “Just peachy, cap.” He sweetly says while batting his eyelashes in false innocence, sharp grin a contrast to his pretty eyes. “So, do I get to know where we’re goin’ yet or is that information still classified?”

His boss's chuckle was like music to Spencer's ears. "You hungry?" He asks, taking another puff of his cigar.

Spencer briefly considers his options, before remembering that he’s not caring right now, that’s what he’s doing. “I could eat.” He responds, vague and non-committal, trying desperately to hide his wants and hopes for how this night will turn out. He pines for this man, his bloody fuckin’ captain, and that is a terrifying realization to have while being taken out for dinner by Price, just the two of them.

Ignoring his tone, John leads him, almost instinctively, to an old steakhouse. Putting out his cigar, the man opened the door for his underling, looking down at him with blue eyes that seemed to speak too many words for Spencer to understand. "I used to come here a lot when I was a lad." Saying this made him sound older than he actually was.

What a fuckin' dilf, The thought, once again, entered Spencer's thoughts. He shakes his head as if to physically remove the thought before speaking.

“You say that like you’re about to keel over or somethin’. Aren’t you only like thirty-seven?”

‘Eyes are the window to one’s soul,’ goes the famous quote, Spencer heard this as his boss turned his blue gaze to him once more. “I might.” He jokes, his small laugh making Spencer’s stomach flip. “After you, Mr. Marsh.” He says before Spencer steps through the door and he shut it behind them. Wasp raises an eyebrow at Price as he walks into the restaurant, standing awkwardly in the entranceway. He doesn’t really know what this is, doesn’t know what the captain wants from him. The young man’s breath hitches in his throat as Price takes his hand, pulling the corporal into the steakhouse proper. He stares at their joined hands as the older man pulls him along towards the hostess booth, brain practically rebooting.

John doesn’t let go of Spencer’s hand until the two of them are seated at a table, a fact that the raven haired man is very aware of, instantly missing the warmth of the other man’s hand. Spencer slides into the bench of the booth, placing his chin in his hand and looking out at the other tables.

Slowly, he notices something about almost every other patron in the restaurant, it’s all couples.

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks, his freckled face flushing red as he thinks about how the two of them look. Like a decorated military man and his young trophy husband.

Christ.

Looking at the menu, Spencer observed Price from the corners of his vision. He got so invested in just watching the older man that when the waiter finally got there and asked what they wanted, Spencer had no idea.

Another one of Price’s signature knowing looks flashed in his blue eyes. “Two steaks and a pint of beer for each, please.” He smiles at the waiter, making Spencer feel a twinge of jealousy roll down his spine as he glares at the waiter without even realizing.

Price, however, does realize and raises his eyebrows at him with a small grin on his face. It makes Wasp flush in embarrassment and look away, flustered not by his own jealousy but by the fact that he was caught for it. He turns away and places his head in his hand, pouting to himself about being silently called out. He hears the older man’s deep chuckle and chooses to ignore it, turning away to avoid the captain’s gaze. He huffs quietly, looking at the menu of specialty drinks that the restaurant offers. Spencer doesn’t drink much, but the young man knows he prefers the drinks that don’t actually taste like alcohol, preferring sweet or fruity flavors.

He stares at the picture of the frozen margarita longingly, desperate for the burn of the tequila and dull ache of the frozen slush. It sucks that he’s feeling like this, jealous and bitter about things he cannot change and taking it out on a poor waiter who simply got a smile from the older man. The fact that it hasn’t even angered Price is another thing, the older man seems to enjoy the jealousy that shows on Spencer’s face and he isn’t sure how to feel about that.

Spencer orders the frozen margarita.

He sends the pint of beer back when the waiter brings it out, a sharp grin on his lips that makes a look of fear flash on the waiter’s face. The corporal stirs his frozen drink with his straw, sipping on it happily as Price stares at him, a disbelieving yet amused look on his face.

"I'm sure you know why we're here?" Price asks, a look in his eye that tells he is not asking a hypothetical question. It makes the young man tilt his head, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. He has an idea of why they’re here, but he doesn’t want to say what he thinks.

Instead, he simply shrugs, playing dumb to avoid embarrassing himself anymore than he already has tonight. “I’m not entirely sure, captain, would you care to enlighten me?” He says, innocent and sweet as he takes a bite of his mashed potatoes. “Or am I supposed to guess all evening?”

John chuckles lightly, looking at Spencer with a warmth that the young man isn’t quite sure he’s earned.

"Why don't I show you exactly what I mean?" That knowing tone, one that Spencer had heard all evening. However, this time it had a hunger; a not-so-hidden desire laced around the edges and tied up in a bow of pure desire.

Spencer blinked owlishly at the older man, nodding slowly in agreement. He doesn’t have any words, simply full of want as he tries to go back to eating his food. Price grins sharply, throwing a few pounds on the table before standing and pulling Spencer out of the booth and towards the entrance.

He expects Price to walk them back to base, where most people were either asleep or on leave, where no one would see them. A private thing. Spencer expects to be hidden away, locked behind a closed door with the curtains drawn, with no intention of letting what was happening become a public affair. Instead, he’s dragged to a very nice hotel and that scares him. It scares him, maybe more than being hidden away ever would have.

Yet, he’s finding it hard to tell whether the heart beat pounding in his ears is from the fear, or if the fluttering in his chest is only catching up with the blush spreading up his neck and face. His face feels hot, and his breath is hitching, despite never being winded by walking this fast in the past. He follows Price without a second thought, content to let the older man lead. It’s second nature at this point, for John to lead and Spencer to follow so he doesn’t have any complaints as he’s pulled down the road.

The warm inviting light beaming from glass windowed doors does little to quell the growing heat Spencer feels on his skin. A doorman, a pretty thing in his own right, holds the door for them. The Irishman can barely hear the uniformed man’s greeting to them both over his heart thumping in his ears as Spencer follows his apparent lover inside. Inside, the floor is a waxed marble the likes of which Spencer felt he was barely able to afford the sight of. And that was the least extravagant thing about the decor. Everyone inside, both behind the check in counter and sitting in the foyer ahead of them, was wearing clothes that must have cost what the Irishman made in half a year's time. The warmth only spread as he felt overly spoiled with such in over the top place. John, however, barely spared the extravagances a lingering glance. Instead, his attention remains almost solely on the younger man beside him. Spencer could feel the warmth of John’s hand on his back as he’s encouraged onward. Soon after, hot breath caressed the shell of his ear. “Sure you’re up for this, lovey? You’re lookin’ pretty red.” Are the teasing words that fall from the older man’s lips, making the corporal’s face heat even further as he nods mutely, flustered and inexperienced with this kind of thing, in more ways than one.

Price studies the young man’s expression for a moment, a teasing grin on his lips as he takes in the flushed face of his subordinate. “Alright then, as long as you’re sure.” He responds, an air of playfulness lacing his gruff voice as he grabs Spencer’s hand in his own and pulls the corporal to the elevator. It’s a silent ride up, Wasp busying himself with staring at anything other than the man beside him. He stares at his boots, picks his nails, messes with his hair while staring at his reflection in the metal of the elevator panel, anything to not make eye contact with his captain.

Price isn’t sure why Wasp is so nervous, so fidgety. The young man is normally pretty flighty, unless on the field, but this is different. This is nerves and Price doesn’t know what to make of it as the elevator chimes and the doors slide open. He takes Spencer’s hand once more, gently guiding his corporal like he has for years. The captain stops at a door near the end of the hall, haphazardly swiping the keycard given to him by hotel staff.

Shutting the door behind him, John Price’s eyes were solely for Spencer’s. It’s a heady feeling, the older man’s eyes piercing through his soul as they barrel into the hotel room with needy fervor and Spencer isn’t stupid, he knows that he’s once again a rebound for a man that Siren has used and left behind. He can’t help but feel that that doesn’t really matter right now when Price’s warm hands are once again touching him, grasping at Spencer’s hips, heat seeping through his thin white t-shirt.

John’s rough, calloused hands slide up to rest on the young corporal’s ribs, squeezing lightly as he presses his lips to the man’s neck, beard scratching at his pale skin as the captain trails hot, open-mouthed kisses up his jaw towards Spencer’s lips. The scratchy texture of Price’s beard makes the young man whine, a short sound from the back of his throat. It makes the older man pause for just a moment before he moves back down to Spencer’s neck, wanting to hear the sound again. The captain nips sharply at the spot connecting his neck and shoulder, pulling a sharp gasp from lips that he bites down on to muffle the noise.

Price huffs a breathy laugh against his neck, raising one of his hands towards the young man’s lips. The captain uses his thumb to pull Spencer’s bottom lip out from between his teeth before pressing an achingly soft kiss to them, kissing back down along the young man’s jaw. “I want to hear you, darlin’, no hiding.” Fuck, his voice. The sound of it makes Spencer whine softly, head tilting back and hitting the door behind him.

"That's a good boy." Voice so low that the corporal swore it seeped into every pore in his body like lotion.

The words send a jolt of molten need down his spine, and Christ, he needs to get his issues in order. His breath hitches in his throat, Price’s hands sliding under his shirt and urging it over his head as the older man backs him up against the edge of the bed. Spencer blinks hazily before getting the idea, arms raising to help get it over his head. It’s tossed to the ground haphazardly and where it lands is a problem that he doesn’t exactly have the time or patience to deal with.

Impatient and calloused hands roughly grab at the button of Spencer’s velvet pink pants, his boots already tossed off before they even made it to the bed. Price’s knee forces the young man’s legs apart, one hand resting on the inside on his thigh and the other on his hip, thumb rubbing on the fabric there. His pants are unbuttoned and unzipped quickly, boxers peeking through the slot. The captain pulls down Wasp’s pants, hissing through his teeth at the sight of the young man’s boxers, drenched with need. Spencer turns his head away, face flushed red with embarrassment as he lifts his hips to help get his pants the rest of the way off.

Noticing his subordinate’s sudden self-consciousness, John places a gentle and calloused hand on Spencer’s jaw, a reassuring touch. “So pretty for me, dove, so needy and desperate.” The captain rasps out, voice rough and lips pressed against the young man’s hip. Spencer glares down at the older man, making Price grin sharply and nip at the soft skin of the corporal’s hip. The hand on the young man’s jaw moves down to the inside of one of his plush thighs, the other hand teasingly squeezing at his hip. It’s a strange sensation, but not an unwelcome one. It makes a shiver run down his spine, thigh tensing under the older man’s touch.

He lifts a knee to hit the older man in the stomach, not hard just enough to feel it. John grunts, head snapping up to glare at the corporal. Spencer pouts down at the captain teasingly, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“Don’t tease, sir. I’ve never done this before and you’re being mean to me?” The young man says, though he’s clearly not very put out if the sharp grin on his lips is anything to go by. The words, though they’re said playfully, make the captain hesitate for a second, a small moment of clarity cutting through the lust filled haze that fogs Price’s mind. He looks up at Spencer with wide eyes, genuine concern for his subordinate written all over his face.

That’s what the nerves had been about.

John licks his bottom lip, hesitance evident in his expression. “Are you sure you wanna do this with me?” The captain asks, worry and apprehension laced throughout his rough baritone voice. “First times are a big deal, kid.”

The young man’s nose scrunches up, a mix of disgust and annoyance on his face. “Don’t call me kid when you’re about to fuck me, old man.” He says, playful despite his feelings towards Price’s words, “And yeah, I’m sure, it’s not like anyone else is offering to fuck me anytime soon.”

Price huffs a laugh at Spencer’s words and his obliviousness to his own appeal. “You tell me if anything I do makes you uncomfortable. Got it?” The older man orders, tone an odd mix of care and commanding, ever the doting superior officer he’s always been to the young corporal pinned below him. Wasp nods automatically, used to silently letting the captain know that he understands. “Need to hear you say it out loud, ‘m not doing this without your consent, Spence.”

The young man huffs a sigh at that, seemingly put out at having to speak when he’s this flustered and needy. “Yes, captain, I’ll tell you if you injure me with your massive penis.” He snaps out, snarky and irritated in a way he’s never seriously been with Price before. It makes the older man eyebrows raise like a disapproving superior which Wasp seems to cow under for a moment before John softens out, pressing his lips against the young man’s neck once more in an effort to soothe the young man’s nerves. “It’s not just about not wanting to hurt you, love. If you don’t like something that I’m doing you need to tell me.” The captain murmurs, lips brushing against the soft skin of Spencer’s throat, nipping gently at his Adam's apple.

The young man makes a face like he’s confused, as if he didn’t expect the soft treatment from the older man. It makes Price’s heart ache for Spencer and how he’s been treated before. The captain puts a hand on the corporal’s jaw, brushing his thumb gently against the skin there, comforting the young man as much as he can in the moment.

“Do you actually want this, Spencer? We’re not doing this if you just think you have to.” John whispers against the corporal’s skin, soft and reassuring. It makes Spencer stutter to a stop, breath catching in his throat as he thinks.

He does want this, doesn’t he? He’s wanted it for the last six months, but the moment he gets what he wants he chokes up and chickens out. It’s not like him, Wasp doesn’t hesitate so why is Spencer? It’s driving him fucking crazy that he’s nervous and it hits him that that’s what this is, nerves and that just drives him even crazier. He opens his mouth to say something, anything to make Price keep making him feel good but nothing comes out. He doesn’t know if he doesn’t know what to say or if his voice is failing him. For the first time in his life, Spencer Marsh has nothing to say for himself.

“I-I don’t…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” The young man chokes out when he finally gets his voice back, tears pooling in his eyes. It shocks Price, for all his being emotional the captain had never seen Spencer cry. The corporal doesn’t sob, it isn’t a loud cry of despair or anything like that. It’s a quiet thing, fat tears rolling down his pretty face as he sniffles softly. “I want this, I want you so much, but I…I’m scared and nervous and I don’t know why.”

John looks at him with a gentle look on his face, of sympathy or worry, shushing Spencer’s quiet sobs softly. He cups his subordinate’s face with calloused hands, brushing away tears with his thumb. “You said this is your first time, right? It’s ok to be nervous, love, it’s normal.” The older man murmurs between them, voice a low and comforting rumble.

Spencer shakes his head, looking around the expensive hotel room that Price has procured just for this, just for them. His eyes flit about the room, looking anywhere but meeting Price’s own. “No, not that, well I guess it’s a little bit of that, but you’re just…being so nice to me and I’m worried that I won’t be any good at this. That it’ll be bad and you’ll end up hating me or something, I don’t know…” He whispers, voice soft and nervous in a way it never usually is. Spencer’s voice is naturally gentle and sweet, but this is different. It lacks the confidence that the older man is used to hearing in it, it’s scared and insecure.

John is suddenly reminded how young and inexperienced Spencer is compared to him.

The captain breathes out a quiet laugh, warm and rough hands a comforting weight as one cups the young man’s cheek, wiping away stray tears that roll down his face. The other hand goes back to wrapping around Spencer’s waist, a steady presence that helps to calm the corporal’s erratic mind. “I wouldn’t hate you over bad sex, sweetheart.” The older man chuckles, “And I’m bein’ nice to you, doin’ all of this for you because I want to. Not whatever silly reason your brain is tellin’ you.”

Spencer bites his bottom lip with hesitation, turning his head away for a moment before turning back to face Price with a look of determination in his eyes. The young man takes a deep breath before slowly leaning in, pressing his soft lips to the captain’s own. Price takes it in stride, a warm feeling going through him at the contact. He pushes into the kiss, hands moving grasp at the corporal’s hips and pulling him into his lap.

The young man takes the lead, laying one hand on the captain’s chest and one hand winding up to the back of Price’s head. Tugging gently on the spiked hair resting just above his neck, Spencer bites down on the skin of the older man’s neck just hard enough to leave a mark of his own on his captain’s skin. He rolls his hips down into John’s still clothed crotch, craving the friction and desperate for the feelings conversation to end. The corporal pants open mouthed against Price’s neck, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes dilated and full of want.

“Christ, got your feelings out of the way quickly didn’t you, sweetheart?” John teases, eager to set their dynamic back to some kind of normalcy, voice strained with need as he takes in the pretty fuckin sight Spencer makes. He cups the younger man’s jaw, guiding his head away from the captain’s neck and slotting their lips together in a passionate kiss. His grip on the corporal’s jaw tightens slightly before moving his hand to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. It’s uncoordinated, a bit sloppy. But it’s alright cause it’s Spencer. He can get away with being messy; if anything it’s a good look on him. And Price’s there to guide him. Helps him set a steady rhythm, figure out what he does and doesn’t like. Slow but firm kisses, lips pressed against each other leaving little room for negotiation or breath and while Spencer is inexperienced, his eagerness more than makes up for it.

Price’s calloused hands move down his subordinate’s body, one grasping at his hip and trailing up to his chest. The captain rolls the pad of his thumb over the young man’s hardened nipple eliciting a short huff of pleasure from his otherwise occupied lips. His other hand slides under Spencer’s ass, lifting him into his lap. It only lasts a second before John lifts Spencer up slightly, pulling his already unbuttoned pants further down his legs until he can pull them off fully, throwing them off to the side just like his shirt before resting him back down again.

The captain takes in the young man’s nearly naked form, the scars across his chest and body, some from surgery others from his years of military service. Price’s hands rest on the corporal’s hips, breathing out a huff of desire at his plush thighs. A smirk crosses the older man’s lips, leaning up and pressing his lips to Spencer’s neck, hot breath fanning his skin. He grins at the dark patch on the young man’s boxers, lightly pressing the rough pad of his thumb against the corporal’s clothed clit, rubbing teasingly. His back arches slightly, a soft gasp of pleasure falling from his lips. Price chuckles lowly, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Sensitive, aren’t we, love? Does it feel good, my fingers against your needy cunt?” The captain asks, voice low and seductive as he lays Spencer on his back against the expensive sheets of the hotel bed. He hooks his thumb in the young man’s panties, looking up for approval. Spencer nods, his pretty face lightly flushed red with both desire and embarrassment. Price pulls down the corporal’s boxers agonizingly slow, revealing his glistening pussy, dripping with need. The older man presses a gentle kiss to his subordinate's soft stomach and Spencer assumes it’s meant to reassure him as the kisses move down his body.

He’s proven wrong when the captain presses his lips to the young man’s aching clit, watching with a smirk as his hips buck up once uncontrollably, head pressing back against the pillow. Price nips at the skin of the corporal’s inner thigh, grinning when Spencer squeaks at the sharp feeling, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses to his creamy skin. The captain wraps his lips over the sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing his tongue over it.

Spencer lets out a surprised moan at the feeling, hips arching up and pressing his needy cunt further into the captain’s mouth. One of his hands shoots down to grip at the sheets, the other reaching to grab at John, not really looking where and hitting his shoulder. Price chuckles softly, looking up at the young man and taking in the pretty red flush on his face and chest before laying an arm over his hips. “I’ll get you what ya need, love, just be patient. So pretty for me, aren’t ya Marsh?” The words are nearly growled out, low and breathy against Spencer’s skin. It makes the corporal whine, a mix of embarrassment and need ringing through him at the words. The praise bounces around in his mind, preening at it like he didn’t receive enough attention as a child. He hits the older man in the shoulder softly before dropping his hand back down.

“I’ve been patient for six months, captain. Lucky I lasted that long, patience isn’t exactly my strong suit.” He’s well aware that the bite in his snarky words is undercut by the whining tone in his voice, higher pitched than normal and reedy as he complains.

Price rolls his eyes at that, a small grin on his face. “You should have more patience, dove, you’re a sniper for God’s sake.” The captain tries for chastising disapproval, but it lands more around reluctantly amused, like he’s trying not to find the words funny. John watches as Spencer opens his mouth to retort, but doesn’t give him the chance, wrapping his lips around the young man’s clit. His callous roughened hands grasp at the underside of the corporal’s thighs and pull him closer. The young man makes a noise in the back of his throat, hips lifted off the sheets with the captain’s hands grabbing at the soft skin of his thighs, running his tongue over the young man’s slick folds. It’s an overwhelming feeling that Spencer doesn’t, can’t describe. He makes a choked sound as Price gently tries to ease one of his fingers into the corporal’s tight entrance, shuddering before desperately trying to relax around the intrusion. He must succeed as low murmurs of praise that he can’t even comprehend are mumbled against his skin.

It's unbelievable, the way it makes him feel, it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Spencer lets out a surprised moan, hand shooting out to grasp at Price’s brown hair and pulling without thought. John groans lowly, the vibrations of it making the young man’s legs shake as he gasps at the pleasure of it, two of the captain’s thick fingers curling inside of the corporal’s cunt. A soft and breathless murmur of fuck falls from Spencer’s parted lips, he barely registered he had even said it before the thoughts were gone again. His back arches further into the older man’s touch, hips bucking as he desperately tries to chase the electric pleasure that shoots down his spine. His mewls and cries become breathier, high pitched and reedy as he rapidly approaches his release before the pleasure is cruelly ripped away from him. An anguished cry falls from his lips, a pout on his face before he fixes it. His eyes fly open and he looks down, leveling Price with an almost venomous glare. It makes the captain chuckle to himself, a near patronizing pat to the young man’s flank, a grin on his face. Maybe it's a little mean, an orgasm would have definitely helped with the stretch that’s coming, but the captain can’t help being possessive in a way. He wants to feel Spencer’s first orgasm around his cock — where he needs to have it.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Price mumbles, more to himself than to the young man as he lifts Spencer by the small of his back and practically tosses him towards the head of the bed. It makes the corporal let out a surprised laugh, backing up until he reaches the headboard. He isn’t discreet with his looks, biting his lip with desire as he watches the captain undress. Fingers fumbling with his belt until he can force his slacks open impatiently, pulling his hard cock out of his boxers instead of taking them off. It makes the young man feel a little better about how needy he’s been, knowing that the other man wants him just as much. Spencer tries to ignore how that makes him feel, being wanted this much by a man he’s wanted for years.

Price climbs onto the bed, crawling towards the headboard where Spencer lays. The corporal nearly squeaks at the sight of the older man’s hard cock, the tip flushed and leaking as he places his hands on the young man’s waist. The captain notices the look on his face, bright red and nervous. John can’t sit here and say that it doesn’t make a smug feeling wash over him, syrupy and warm like honey.

Christ, will that even fit?

The thought cuts through Spencer’s honeyed mind like a knife, grounding and breaking the bliss floating around his thoughts. He hears John chuckle quietly like he’s trying to hide it from the young man. Fuck, did he say that out loud? “It’s ok, ” The captain starts, cupping Spencer’s jaw with a rough hand and leaning close, “I’ll make sure it fits, love.” He whispers into the young man’s ear, voice raspy and charged with a growl that sends shivers down the corporal’s spine.

He looks up at Price with half-lidded eyes, buzzing with nerves and excitement. His back arches off the bed, pressing his tummy against the captain’s own as the man’s fingers spread Spencer’s slick folds. Another of those calloused fingers is pushed in, a slow and careful pace being set as the corporal tries to relax around the intrusion. He breathes shakily and purses his lips, scrunching up his face as he attempts to stave off the feeling of almost pain that those three fingers cause. He cries out with a mix of shock and pleasure as John curls his fingers, hitting that spongy spot inside the young man’s sopping cunt that makes him gasp and his walls clench tightly around the digits. He whines low and soft, the sound being pulled from him like he’s just an instrument being played to perfection. “If you don’t fuck me in the next minute, I’m going to kick you.” Spencer growls out, the needy way his hips roll and buck into the older man’s touch swiftly undercutting the tone of his threat. Price raises an eyebrow, looking up and meeting Spencer’s eyes with an amused smile at the sight of the other man’s pouting face, his threat completely useless now. The captain huffs a jokingly irritated breath, curling and twisting his fingers just enough to make Marsh buck and swear at him.

“Don’t be a damn brat, you’re gonna let me prep you or we’re not doing this,” John says roughly, “Understood?” It’s an empty threat and if his mind wasn’t fuzzy with need Spencer probably would’ve realized it. As it stands, he whines and huffs, hands bunching up the sheets underneath him and moaning as the older man’s fingers pick up their pace anyway. His breathing is ragged and panting, walls clenching as he rolls his hips down desperately but is denied again. The young man groans in annoyance and throws his head back against the pillow, eyes and face scrunched up while Price chuckles at his dramatics.

John presses an achingly gentle kiss to Spencer’s cheek before grabbing onto the meat of his thighs and spreading his legs open. The captain holds one of the young man’s thighs, his other hand wrapping around the base of his cock and gently guiding the head to press against the young man’s dripping entrance. “Gotta breathe through, lovey, it’s gonna sting a little.” The words are rasped against the skin of Spencer’s cheek, the corporal taking deep breaths to try and calm the nerves that threaten to override the pleasure he’s feeling. The tip of Price’s cock pushes inside without much issue, the young man feeling a little sting that makes him wince. It feels weird, good he thinks but also weird, thoughts swirling in his mind without reprieve as the captain pushes his cock about halfway in and then stops. He looks up at Spencer, eyes scanning the sniper’s face for any signs of pain or discomfort. Finding none, he thrusts as gently as he can, burying his cock fully into the young man’s cunt.

Spencer cries out at that and looks dazedly up at the ceiling, looking through his captain for a moment. It doesn’t hurt, something he immediately conveys to Price, it’s just…so much. John gives the other man time to adjust, struggling not to fuck the young man’s brain out right away. The corporal breathes shallowly, trying to adjust quickly to the feeling of being completely filled to the brim. Price groans lowly and presses his forehead against Spencer’s shoulder, hips making aborted little motions that make the other man choke slightly. He looks up at his captain and gives him a nod, needing more despite the overwhelming sensation of the moment.

Price starts slowly, not wanting to push too far and wind up hurting the corporal. It takes a bit before Spencer adjusts fully to the feeling, small whines that are a mix of pleasure and discomfort before he begins to rock his own hips up, eager for more of this new experience. He pants open mouthed as the captain continues to slowly thrust in and out, his thick cock stretching the sopping wet walls of the young man’s cunt. Tears prick up in the corners of Spencer’s eyes simply because of the intense sense of being hollowed from the inside out by his captain’s large shaft and he whimpers needily. “Faster! Fuck, I need more, please god!” The corporal whines dramatically, a pouty tone to his slightly raspy voice as he digs his heels into the small of John’s back. It makes the other man smirk and chuckle deeply “You can’t help being a little shit can you? Such a needy brat.” The words make Spencer pout more, hitting Price on the shoulder with the heel of his palm and narrowing his eyes into a dramatic glare that he doesn’t truly mean. John grins, not at all deterred by the false anger on the young man’s face and leans in closer, warm breath fanning on Spencer’s skin. “Tell me Marsh, were you this much of a brat for Siren? Or maybe you were this way for Soap? Or am I just special, getting this bratty little attitude all to myself?”

Spencer groans and arches his back, head pressed into the pillow beneath him as he glares up at the ceiling. “Maybe I’d tell you if you went faster.” He growls out, not at all threatening with how much he’s pouting at being denied what he wants. Price barks out at a laugh, pinching the corporal’s waist to make him squeak as payment for being such a little shit. He does start thrusting faster though, not immune to how cute Spencer looks when he pouts. John knows that the young man has him wrapped around his finger, but right now, in this moment, he doesn’t particularly care. Not when his cock is being squeezed so tightly by the young man’s gummy walls. The captain moves his hand from the young man’s thigh and uses both hands to grip Spencer’s hips and lift him slightly, then slamming him back down onto his cock.

Spencer chokes on a squeal, back arching off the sheets. He babbles mindlessly for a second before the captain stops again, an embarrassed and flustered look on the corporal’s face. “N-fuck, not funny, prick.” He stumbles out, trying hard to sound angry but he just sounds like a desperate little slut. John presses a hand to the pudge of Spencer’s tummy with a smirk before leaning down and pressing a wet kiss to the young man’s jaw. “Ask nicely, bird, and maybe you’ll get what ya want.” It’s a challenge and Price knows from experience how easy it is to rile Marsh up with taunting words. This is different from running drills with him apparently, given how the words make Spencer pout and huff as though not getting his way is the worst thing in the world. John stops moving completely, looks down at the corporal and raises an eyebrow, smirking as the other man avoids eye contact. The captain waits, taking in the rise and fall of Spencer’s chest as he pants, watching the young man squirm as he wars with his need and his dignity.

Spencer mumbles something out, so quiet Price can’t even begin to try and understand what’s being said. He snorts and motions for the other man to speak up, getting a pout before a huff. “Fuck me faster, captain, please. I need it, please.” Is what he gets, whined out in an overly high pitched voice that’s meant to annoy the older man. It doesn’t get the expected reaction, Price’s nails dig into the soft skin of Spencer’s hips. His own hips begin thrusting faster almost immediately and it makes the corporal choke out something that sounds like a mix of a laugh and a moan.

“That’s what gets you? God, I should- fuck, should’ve used that voice months ago.” The young man snarks out, voice wavering even as he continues to be a brat. He opens his mouth to say something else, but it ends in a moan as Price thrusts deeper than he had been before. It leaves Spencer near breathless and it feels as though the older man’s cock in his throat, filling him completely and making the bratty words die on his tongue. John’s chuckle is strained, finding amusement in the corporal’s blissed out face, as his hips slam against Spencer’s own. The melody of slick sounds and skin hitting against skin fills the room along with Marsh’s mewls and Price’s low groans.

Spencer’s gasping moans raise steadily in pitch, his hips raising and meeting the captain’s thrust, his nails digging into John’s shoulders. The pure bliss he feels drowns out everything else around him, everything else real or in his mind is silenced by the intense feeling of Price’s cock sliding against that perfect spot deep inside his cunt. It’s overwhelming, how much he’s feeling right now, he can feel the expensive sheets tight in his hands nearly tearing the fabric as he flounders for purchase. The young man is hazy with the pure need racking his brain, pussy clenching around the captain’s throbbing prick.

The corporal whines and his legs kick out without thought, getting so close to his release and all of a sudden, it’s just shy of not enough. He complains blearily, words running together as his brain struggles to catch up. Spencer hears that low rumbling chuckle once more and then it feels as though he’s being electrocuted. He wails as his legs shake with the force of his orgasm, arms wrapping around Price’s shoulders and dragging his nails down, red marks quickly being etched into the older man’s skin.

John groans as Marsh’s slick cunt tightens almost painfully around his shaft, listening to the garbled moans that fall from his subordinate’s lips with each brush of his fat cock against the young man’s spongy walls. His thumb continues to rub at Spencer’s clit sporadically, reveling in the way his pussy clenches each time from the oncoming overstimulation.

The captain pants as he thrusts deeply, slower now that he can see the sensitivity setting in. It's a pretty thing to take in, watching the young man's back arch off of the sheets and nails digging into the skin of John's shoulders. His eyes are squeezed shut, eyebrows and nose scrunched up as he mewls with a mix of pleasure and discomfort. The older man lets out a breathy moan against the corporal's skin, biting down just to see as the skin bruises under the force and leaves a mark. He gets the reaction he wanted. The corporal’s eyes nearly roll back and his legs shake as his pussy clamps down, spasming as he cums for the second time. It’s somehow just as overwhelming as the first time and yet not at the same time, it just makes him choke out a sobbing moan, ripped from his throat before he can stop it.

Spencer gasps heavily, desperately pulling air into his lungs as Price pulls out suddenly, the shock of it making him squeal. Thick ropes of cum splatter onto the young man's stomach, warm and stickier than he'd thought it'd be. He lets out a small noise as his head hits the pillow behind him, panting softly and trying in vain to get his eyes to stay open. His eyelids flutter and his vision is hazy as he comes down from the monumental pleasure he’s just experienced, watching blearily as the captain stands and walks to the bathroom, running a hand through his hair and tucking his now softening cock back into his pants. He hears the water of the sink running, the sounds of John moving around the lush hotel room.

The young man gasps instinctively, quiet and slightly weak, when he feels the warm wetness of a face cloth against his stomach. The captain carefully and tenderly wipes Spencer down, pressing soft and gentle kisses to the plush skin of the corporal’s thighs as he cleans him up. He mumbles something to the older man, his words slurring together in a jumbled sentence that Price can’t even begin to understand.

“Is that so, sweetheart? Never thought about that.” John teases, a deep rumble of a laugh escaping him when he feels Spencer kick him weakly on his side. The captain moves to clean the room, picking up the young man’s clothes, but stops short when he feels the other man tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. A pout plays on the corporal’s kiss bruised lips as he makes a half-assed attempt to pull Price onto the bed, his other hand skirting under the older man’s shirt to pull it over his head.

“I’m going to hit you if you don’t come cuddle with me.” Spencer says teasingly, a tired grin on his face as he tries to sit up, tugging Price’s shirt over his head. The captain huffs, trying to look annoyed but ending up somewhere between amused and fond. He lazily shucks his pants the rest of the way off and slides into the bed, wrapping his arms around the corporal’s waist. He listens to the young man’s breathing even out, quickly falling asleep. It makes John feel a little smug, to know that he knocked the stamina out of a man a decade younger than him.

He watches Marsh’s face soften out as he snores softly, moving the young man’s arms to wrap loosely around his own shoulders. Price sighs to himself, an ache in his chest as he wishes there could be something more. He knows that Spencer wants more and he wonders if he does too, but knows that at least right now he can’t have that. The captain takes his phone and sets a silent alarm, laying his head on the soft and expensive pillow, running his fingers through the young man’s hair, looking down at the corporal laying on his chest.

Spencer wakes to sunlight streaming through the soft linen curtains, head pounding as he slowly sits up with a groan and rubs the sleep from his eyes. He blearily looks around, noticing his clothes neatly folded on a plush armchair, boots on the floor. He smells coffee and notices a large to-go cup from the corporal’s favorite local cafe. It sends a pang of hurt through him as he stands from the bed, finally fully noticing Price’s absence from the room. He walks over to the pile of folded clothes and picks up the neatly folded note that rests on top. The words are written in familiar rough handwriting, very obviously from his captain.

“Had fun last night, doll. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Spencer’s lips twitch down in a frown, anger and sadness swirling in his chest in a storm that threatens to consume him whole, threatens to drown him in a hurricane of pent up feelings and emotions for years.

He sighs, taking deep breaths instead of destroying the hotel room so they send Price a fee like he so desperately wants to.

That would be immature, he’s learned that from experience. The young man showers quickly, not wanting to spend too long looking at the marks left on his body by the man who left him the morning after taking his virginity. It’s not like anyone else has ever stayed with him for long either. He couldn’t fault Price for that, can’t fault him for leaving, but god does he want to.

He dresses in his clothes from the night before, hurriedly making his way back to base, head down in shame as he walks into the building. He power walks through the common room, trying to make his way to his dorm before anyone sees him. It doesn’t work out like that, why would it go his way for once in his goddamn life? Spencer hears a familiar voice call out to him, a teasing wolf whistle that makes tears well up in his eyes. He turns, trying to appear as though nothing is wrong, but the damn is already creaking and spilling over even as he puts on a brave face.

“Wasp! Same clothes as yesterday, yeah?” It’s Johnny, a rough and rich voice with a heavy Scottish accent that almost always fills Spencer with warmth. The Scotsman has a teasing grin on his face, blue eyes sparking with amusement as he sits on the common room couch, apparently he hadn’t left yet. “Did’ya finally get lucky?”

The corporal watches as the sergeant fully takes in the look on his face, his own face falling and becoming tight with concern as he stands from the couch and walks towards Spencer. The young man chokes on a sob that he can’t hold in anymore, tears rolling down his cheeks freely even as he tries to stand as rigidly as possible to keep them from doing so. Johnny’s warm hands grab onto Marsh’s shoulders, pulling him towards a more private place, knowing how hard Spencer works to not let others see his emotions, to not be seen as weak.

Spencer brushes off the other man’s concerns and gives dry, short responses that he knows are just going to frustrate Johnny. Bits and pieces of the real story fall out of his mouth in between. He watches the space between the Scotsman's eyebrows crease with concern, a pang of guilt lining the corporal’s thinking.

“Oh, I just got stood up, it’s nothing.” Johnny says not to bullshit him, he knows the corporal had been gone since last night. It makes Spencer both irritated and feel warm, that the sergeant had noticed his absence in the short period of time. It also makes him feel bad for putting off taking the other man’s offer of a place to stay on leave. He debates for a moment, biting his bottom lip in thought before wiping his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“It doesn’t matter, Johnny, I’ll be grand in a few.” Spencer sniffles out, watching as Soap debates asking more before dropping it, to the corporal’s gratitude. He throws his phone and keys down on his dresser, Price’s note falling out onto the floor. The corporal panics silently as he watches the sergeant pick it up, easily recognizing the handwriting and looking up at Spencer with an aching pity in his bright blue eyes.

Spencer looks away, embarrassed and knowing that Johnny will easily piece together what happened. The young man snatches the note out of the other man’s hands and shreds it to pieces in his own. He huffs a heavy breath before running his hand through his hair, the festering anger surfacing before he stamps it down to never be seen again. He looks up at Soap who raises an eyebrow, an attempt at normalcy, but Spencer can see the concern and pity underneath.

“Is that leave offer still on the table?” The young man mumbles out, tucking a piece of his messy hair out of his eyes. He watches Johnny slowly grin and chuckle before he pats Spencer on the head with a surprisingly gentle motion, his hand calloused and rough from his line of work.

“Course it is, bonnie.” It’s a chipper and genuinely happy tone that Spencer doesn’t expect, a fluttering building in his chest as he looks up at the other man with a soft smile. He huffs out a small laugh, pushing Johnny out so he can pack. He closes the door with a grin on his face, giddy and excited and feeling like he’s wanted for him and not what he can do.

It’s the first time he’s felt like that, he’s going to chase that feeling, desperate to know how much of it he is allowed.

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cyrusthedragon · 1 year ago

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I'm so in love with the idea of thunder god tribe being like lil triplets for Laxus, and Laxus is like "no I can't do reckless shit no more, I have my kids to worry about", people are like "you have kids???", Laxus: "yeah", and kids are just three grown-ups looking at Laxus with heart-shaped eyes, and then he's like "okay, I need to go take care of them"

Freed is the oldest one, repeating after him, following his steps, learning and growing, best student, his pride.

Bickslow is next, lil dumb (no, he's actually a secret genius), lil crazy, lil reckless, in short - middle child, circus on feet, but he's Laxus' joy.

And Evergreen as youngest one, pretty and pretty independent, fairy with attitude, she may seem giddy, but she's very smart and cunning; they say if you look at Evergreen for a long time, you can see Laxus.

And it's so-so cute, cuz this kittens are his family, part of his life, and I love it so much, cuz let's be honest with eachother, Laxus is a big softie, and he really need someone to protect, so even if he knows for sure that Freed, Ever and Bickslow are more than capable to protect themselves, that doesn't mean he's not worrying about them. He does. Sometimes a lot. 'They don't need someone to protect them, they're strong,' he says, and then Mirajane cas clearly see that he just can't sit on that chair calmly. She wants to say how cute he is like that, but she bites her inner cheek instead, to not to scare that...openness he's showing her. And it's absolutely obvious that he's showing it, on purpose, he allows himself to be like this, because Mira knows - Laxus can hide really well when he wants to. So she's just glad he trusts her enough to show his true feelings for the raijinshuu.

He'd be a good father, she thinks suddenly, and then blush appears on her face and she hurries to hide it, going to the basement for *choose the reason* while Laxus stares after her with an questioningly raised eyebrow, until his own blush shows on his cheeks. He probably looked stupid...

Even though Laxus doesn't usually care what other people think of him personally, for some reason he doesn't want to look stupid in front of her.

Sheesh.

P.s. inspired by this, look at them. Look at them. He lllooovvvvessssss herrrr (I'm not talking about romantic love here), HE LOVES HER, THAT'S WHY HE CAN BE LIKE THAT WITH HER, AND EVER KNOWS HIM WELL ENOUGH, LOOK. COME THE FUCK ON. THEY'RE FAMILY. I'M DEAD.

Ever but like that 'annoying' lil 'girly girl' sis who can poke you just because she can, and I think if she really was his lil sis, she would simply come up to him, coquettishly extend her hand, and he'd give her money without questions (but with a heavy sigh). And Bickslow'd be like 'wow, can I have some too???', and Laxus to him with straight face, blinking: 'No.' Freed, trying his luck, quietly: "...can I?". Laxus would asked how much and would give him the requested amount, and Bickslow would explode at how terribly unfair this is!!! And Laxus'd give him an hour and a half lecture about how Freed spends money on books and stuff for self development, and Bickslow, on the contrary, always buys all sorts of crap.

"Why then are you giving money to Ever, huh?!" He rightly grumbles, frowning comically, almost stomping his foot. "She buys all sorts of crap too!"

Laxus looks him straight in the eyes. Blinks twice. And, raising his mug of beer, explains:

"I just like her more than you."

Bickslow eventually explodes, making angry noises, and Mirajane, nearby watching this scene, cannot help but giggle at how Laxus skillfully hides his grin behind his mug.

Btw follow me for more Raijinshuu and Miraxus stuff, I just wanna talk about them, seriously:'))

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blackjackkent · 7 months ago

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The area behind Yurgir's hideout is strewn with bones and rotting meat. One in particular, a pile of spider meat, has a cutscene:

Narrator: A well-chewed spider carcass oozes on the ground.

(A/N: Oh dear. Rakha has had a fairly rough series of days and the intrusive thoughts win this time.)

Yurgir's whole lair has been very challenging for Rakha to walk through. The number of corpses is intense even by the beast's reckonings. Blood soaks into the tilework, the columns, the strewn bones. The smell is extraordinary - rotting and cloying and sickly-sweet.

Her stomach turns but she feels the beast rise up eagerly, wanting her to sink her hands deep into the gore and offal and feel it sticky on her hands. To bury herself in this vision of a dark paradise.

While she has been on close guard for the more overt rumblings of the urge - the ones that say to kill everyone she meets - this one sneaks up on her.

Indulge in a lick of the raw carrion.

It happens in a blink. Before she realizes what's happening, she's clawed a hand deep into the carcass and dragged free a palmful of the rotting stuff. The blood drips over her teeth, down her throat, and she swallows eagerly.

Narrator: The meat tastes of rot and sour milk. Your stomach lurches... but your loins tingle. Was that *arousal*?

Rakha's eyebrows shoot up. Her whole body goes taut and a soft, mewling groan escapes her lips before she can stop it, a response to the sudden heat radiating up between her legs and through her abdomen. Out of the corner of her view, she sees Wyll's eyes go extremely wide and his skin go a shade darker.

Shadowheart tilts her head very slowly to one side. Her lips twitch violently as she tries to decide between a concerned frown and a smirk. "Why are you looking at that dead spider... coquettishly?" she asks.

Narrator: In amongst the rot is an unmistakable sweetness - succubus spittle. The meat is charmed.

(A/N: LOLOLOLOLOLOL. I knew you could lick the spider for no reason but I didn't know it got this reaction. Incredible. As near as I can tell, this doesn't have any debuff effect, so this is just Rakha getting humiliated again for no reason.

Also, the $64,000 question - how does Rakha know what succubus spittle tastes like off the top of her head, when she remembers nothing else?)

-----

Rakha's skin flushes a deep, dark olive. She squirms, taking a step away from the corpse. She is not entirely sure what to do with these feelings; she feels fidgety and warm and hungry in a way that she is deeply unused to. Yet another manipulation, another force toying with her mind and body.

(Sex is, of course, something she has memory of experiencing, with Lae'zel. This arousal with no obvious cause is quite different. It is frustrating and disconcerting and also makes her acutely aware of Wyll standing directly to her side.)

She turns abruptly, grabs Wyll by the collar and yanks him towards her, crushing her lips against his. It doesn't do anything to assuage the tension in her gut, though, and she releases the kiss with a noise of frustration and turns away.

He frowns. The kiss was nice, of course - as was the uncharacteristic heat behind it - but he knows her well enough to know that it did not come from a place of happiness.

"Are you... all right?" he asks cautiously.

"Do not ask me," she mutters. "My thoughts not my own... yet again. I am tired of it."

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #wellp that was also unexpected XD #i absolutely made more of this than it warranted but whatever :P #rakha's potential reaction intrigued me

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deepspacedukat · 1 year ago

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Praetor's Pride - Part 5

I know it’s been a long time since I updated this fic, but here we are! The planning stage of this fic has taken some turns that I definitely didn’t anticipate, and there’s an idea that I’ve been playing around with that probably won’t happen for several chapters, if it happens at all. I’ll be updating the tags on AO3 with every chapter added (as per usual). I didn’t have a very clear plan for this fic when I started it, so...enjoy the plot bunny fruit salad, I guess lol.

If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist, please feel free to let me know.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here. Part 4 here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Praetor Hiren (ST:Nemesis) x Reader; Senator Letant (ST:DS9) x Reader; Hiren x Reader x Letant (but most of that won’t happen until later)

[A/N: This chapter alludes to smut and contains innuendo/heavy flirting, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies sex, Human/Romulan sex, innuendo, heavy flirtation, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk, fluff and emotions.

~*~

A low rumble against my neck drew me from my slumber, making me arch into the warmth that caressed me there. When I let out a sleepy little hum, the presence against my neck laughed quietly.

"Sweet, responsive thing." I knew that voice. A smile spread across my lips as I reached for my friend - no, my lover, now. He caught my wrists in his hands and pressed my arms against the pillow on either side of my head. Fluffy black hair, gentle blue eyes, and a soft smile met my gaze when I finally forced my eyes open. "Good morning, my little love."

"Hi there," I murmured to the Romulan Senator braced above me. Letant's hips were slotted between my legs, allowing me to feel his morning interest. "Mmm, you're dangerous, Senator. I could get used to waking up like this, y'know."

"That would be a shame, wouldn't it? Waking up in my arms every morning, being pampered within an inch of your life..." he crooned trailing his lips slowly from my neck to the corner of my mouth. "How would you ever cope with such torture?"

"You let me worry about that, handsome," I retorted as I chased his lips with my own. He pulled back with a mischievous smirk. "Do I not get a morning kiss?"

"Only if you ask politely." His eyes sparkled with glee as I tried and failed a second time to steal a kiss. He let out a quiet 'tsk' and shook his head minutely. "Now, now, there's no sense in being stubborn. All you have to do is ask for what you want."

What could I do but obey?

"Please, Senator, have mercy. May I have a kiss?" I blinked coquettishly up at him, but all I got in return was a mischievous smirk.

"You see? That wasn't too painful, was it?" Rolling my eyes playfully, I turned my head to look out the window, but Letant was having none of it. One of his hands grasped my jaw and turned me back toward him as he claimed my mouth in a kiss. He was so tender that it brought tears to my eyes. The fullness of his affection for me was still a shock when he allowed it to wash over me. I'd always been his, hadn't I? "How angry do you think your superiors would be if I were to keep you here? I could, you know. It would be easy to claim that it was on the Praetor's orders...Hiren wouldn't object to your presence, I'd wager."

With a wistful sigh, I caressed his fingers, pulling a low, hungry moan from his throat.

"I wish you could, but I have commitments..."

"How long will your next assignment be?" Letant's voice dripped with longing. I wasn't ready to face the prospect of being away from him, yet, but I still answered.

"Two and a half months. I'll be on Vulcan–" my lover made a little noise of discontent as he left a mark over my collarbone, "–but there's a conference on Deep Space Nine in three months' time. There's supposed to be a Romulan delegation in attendance..."

"Then I'll be there. I don't care what strings I have to pull. I'm not passing up the chance to be with my mate again," he swore looking into my eyes. "Hiren will want to be there, as well. We'll both use our influence to make sure we're present for you."

"Well, let's see how he behaves at dinner tonight before we tell him. Deal?" Letant nodded his head quietly and let out a small huff of laughter. "What?"

"Hiren is a good man, and I do hope he is worthy of being out third, but...there's a small, selfish part of me that hopes he makes an ass of himself tonight so that I can share your bed alone on the station," he murmured. "Although...I must admit that it would be pleasant to wake up to the sight of you taking the Praetor's lok first thing in the morning..."

The idea sent heat spreading over my face.

"Oh, you like the sound of that, do you?" He asked as his tip glided through my folds, catching on my entrance and making us both gasp at the sensation. Everything was still so new with him. "So do I. You'd have two husbands to please you...to fill you..."

Once he hilted himself inside me, we didn't make it out of bed for several more hours.

As I was dressing to return to the ship and attend my only meeting of the day, Letant wrapped his arms snugly around my waist.

"I'll fetch you for dinner a bit early, alright?" He asked nipping at my shoulder, and I leaned back in his grasp, savoring the feeling of being surrounded by him. I'd have to wear something with a higher collar than normal. The Senator had done a superb job of marking his territory, but that didn't mean I wanted to flash my newly acquired hickeys to the Starfleet brass.

"I take it you'd like a little solo attention before Hiren arrives?" I asked as his teeth worried a spot he'd been favoring all morning. "At least the Vulcans won't be able to see that one under the robes I'll be forced to wear. I can't say the same about the rest, though."

"Oh dear. The evidence of a gorgeous woman having been pleased and treasured by her mate will undoubtedly scandalize them to no end," he crooned sounding not the least bit sorry as his lips spread into a wide smile against my neck. "Perhaps that will make them a little less stoic..."

He let out a mischievous laugh, nipping at my skin before speaking again.

"While I would very much enjoy having you all to myself before the Praetor arrives, I had a slightly different motive in mind," he murmured nuzzling my hair softly.

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"A conversation..." Letant sounded just as hesitant as he had when he'd confessed his feelings the day before.

"Ah. Have you held back more information?" I asked turning in his arms. He winced very slightly, giving me my answer.

"It's entirely optional, but typically, in soliciting a third, the original pair make some...display of their affections for each other," he explained, and I tilted my head curiously. "It's usually sexual in nature..."

Oh. Sexual posturing. Was that all?

"And why do I need to know that for tonight in particular?"

"Usually, this display is made the first time that the full triad spend significant time together, but, as I said, it's entirely optional," he soothed skimming his hands up and down my arms. "If for any reason you're not comfortable, the three of us can simply have a lovely evening together, instead. You're not Romulan, e'lev. Hiren and I would never force you to participate in anything that troubles you. I doubt he's even dared to hope that something like that will happen tonight."

Letting out a quiet sigh, I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"My darling, I understand that Romulans don't tend to volunteer information, but in instances regarding our relationship, it might be helpful if I had more information than less," I said placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "Your culture and customs regarding this entire process are totally new to me. I feel like I'm floundering as it is."

"Duly noted, e'lev," Letant muttered nuzzling my nose with his. "Oh, I don't look forward to parting with you tonight. Having you here on ch'Rihan with me has been like living in a dream. I never imagined that I'd be fortunate enough to wake up with the light of the Romulan sun pouring over your beautiful body."

"Do you know how many times I imagined what your home might be like without allowing myself even the slightest hope of ever seeing it in person? I never thought I'd actually get a chance to spend time here with you." At my musing, the Senator's grip on me tightened somewhat.

"And...do you like it enough to stay?" I looked at him curiously at his tentative, hopeful question. "I realize you have several commitments to keep before you'd be able to, but...would you be open to living here with me? Or perhaps with the Praetor, if he proves worthy? I'm sure the Federation will require diplomats who are willing to be stationed on ch'Rihan since our governments are at peace, and it takes a very special type of person to be able to tolerate us. I could pull some strings...have you assigned here, if you like? If not, I am more than willing to follow your lead, e'lev."

Allowing a smile to spread slowly over my lips, I nodded my head.

"I'll fulfill my current obligations, but I won't commit to any new ones," I said watching as joy filled his countenance. "Either as a diplomatic posting or as a civilian, I should be able to make such a move in, uh...I'd guess something like eight months, give or take. We can play it by ear until then."

I'd barely gotten the question out when Letant caught my lips in a passionate kiss.

"You won't regret it, I promise." I'd never seen him quite this happy before. Between the color in his cheeks and the sparkle in his eyes, he was absolutely radiant! I could hardly believe I was his. "Now, you'd better run along before I say 'to hell with decorum' and decide to keep you here."

After three and a half hours in a meeting with several Starfleet Admirals and other diplomats, I had grown weary of pomp, circumstance, and fancy, meaningless words. Admittedly, I had allowed my mind to wander at various points, pondering the ways that tonight might unfold.

Tugging the front clasps of my dress uniform free, I collapsed onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. I'd only allowed my eyelids to flutter closed for a single moment before my door chime sounded.

Whoever it was, they'd simply have to deal with me looking as though I'd just been trampled by an Andorian ox.

"Enter," I called with reluctance, and when my door hissed open, I steeled myself against the possibilities. "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"Have you forgotten our dinner date, e'lev?" Letant's voice drew a sigh of relief from me, but when I processed what he'd asked, my eyes flew open.

"It can't possibly be that late already," I murmured as I watched the Senator walking toward me.

"I'm half an hour early, as we agreed," he said as his eyes skimmed the length of my body. "How long as it been since you got back?"

"A minute, at most." Letant's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

"What in the stars could they possibly have been discussing for that long?" He asked kneeling beside the sofa and kissing my forehead. Cupping his cheek, I simply shook my head.

"As per usual, there was a lot of hot air but very little substance. Being in the company of two attractive, intriguing Romulans for the rest of the evening will be like a breath of fresh air," I muttered as I finally took in his appearance.

Deep green robes - the color of Romulan passion and love - flowed off his shoulders with silver embellishments adorning the lapels. Peeking out from the neckline of the garment was a sliver of his chest.

"Well, don't you look dashing! What could I possibly have done to deserve such a captivating escort?" Trailing my fingertips teasingly down his neck, I relished the deep, shuddering breath he took as he caught my hand.

"Careful, now. You're entering dangerous territory, especially if you want to be on time to receive the Praetor," he warned in a low, velvety murmur.

The part of me that enjoyed tempting his hunger preened that such a small prod had already gotten a reaction from him.

"Then I should get changed. This dress uniform isn't exactly the most sensual thing in my wardrobe." Giving him a wink as I sat up, Letant's lips spread into a devious smirk.

"Oh, believe me, I know. That little gray number with the black and white accents nearly made an animal out of me last year," he said as he tugged me effortlessly to my feet along with him. I remembered that conference very well, but he hadn't behaved inappropriately. I'd caught his eyes wandering the length of my body a time or two, but I hadn't thought anything of it. "Did you happen to bring it with you on this trip?"

"I did." At my answer, the Senator's arms went around my waist and his smile got even wider - a feat I didn't even think was possible. "Is that what you think I should wear tonight?"

"E'lev, if you do, both Hiren and I will be completely at your mercy. We'll be hanging on your every word. A mere whisper of a suggestion will send us scrambling to please you..." As he waxed poetic, I found myself being guided toward my closet.

Well, that settled one problem, at least. The dress in question was a cool, mid-tone gray with black and white accents woven through the bodice. The garment emphasized all the right curves and flowed gracefully down to just above my knees. By the way that Letant practically helped me out of my uniform, I thought my chances of Hiren finding this dress equally attractive were pretty high.

Letant and the Ambassador materialized in the entryway of the Senator's home. Mentally, the former noted that Hiren would have arrived a few moments before and was likely patiently waiting for the other two to join him. Letant caught his mate's hand in his just outside the door to his home's lounge, pulling her carefully to a stop. She looked up at him curiously, and it was all he could do to keep himself from kissing her again.

"Remember, you're in complete control of what happens here tonight. If you don't want to go through with the demonstration, or if you want to stop at any time, you need only tell me," he murmured trying to reassure her, and she nodded her head. What had he done to earn such trust? Pressing a soft kiss onto her forehead, Letant escorted her inside.

In the short amount of time that the Ambassador had spent in his home, she hadn't had cause to look in this room. Letant saw her glancing around, noting the warm, inviting atmosphere that he was so proud of having created in the space. The seats were all exorbitantly plush - as was a Romulan commonality - and a fire crackled away in the hearth to one side.

In the subdued lighting, he watched as her eyes were drawn to the windows at the side of the room which stretched from floor to ceiling. He knew the moment she saw him. Her eyes widened, and her lips drew into a small smile. Bathed in the cool moonlight, Hiren stood looking out over the grounds with the same regal air he carried during each and every Senate session and public appearance. The light of the setting sun trickled across his deep blue tunic, creating a sight that even Letant knew his lover would find artistic.

Judging by the way her breath hitched in her throat, he could tell that she cared for him just as much as he did for her. Letant knew it, even if neither of the other two were fully aware yet.

Hiren turned when he heard the door, and as his eyes found the lovely lady holding the Senator's arm, Letant felt the tone of the room shift. The Ambassador looked as though she was caught in a snare - one she'd voluntarily walked into - and Hiren's already soft gaze melted even further as one of his hands lifted to his side, resting over his heart.

"Elements preserve us." His voice came out as a barely audible rasp.

"My thoughts exactly, old friend," Letant murmured, giving his lover's cheek a quick kiss before ushering her farther inside. Once the Praetor had finally taken a slow step forward, the Senator saw his mate stand a little taller as she smiled up at him.

"May I have a closer look at your dress, lhhei?" Hiren asked as he crossed in front of the fireplace. Letant winked at her from the sideboard where he'd moved to pour them all drinks. He watched her walk over to stand in front of the Praetor and take the hand he offered her. An electric sort of expression passed between the two as Hiren grasped her waist lightly with his free hand. "Beautiful...utterly breathtaking just like the lady wearing it."

"Isn't she just?" The blush coloring her cheeks deepened further at Letant's encouragement of Hiren's affections. He sidled over and passed them both glasses of kali-fal - as if the Ambassador hadn't had too much of the stuff already over the last couple of days. Of course, for what they might be doing soon, it was best for her to relax a little. The Senator paused as he handed his lover her glass, raising an eyebrow at her in askance. She smiled in return and gave him a small nod. A tentatively positive start to the evening. "You know, Hiren, the first time she wore this, she was a merciless tease."

"I was not," the lady protested, but Letant shook his head grimly.

"You were. Hiren, I tell you, she strode into that reception hall, and every man there was besotted within an instant," he insisted, and Hiren let out an appreciative little noise at the mental image. "To make matters worse, she barely spared any of us a glance. Such cruel treatment for such ardent admirers..."

"He's exaggerating quite heavily, I assure you," she replied taking a sip of her drink. "I wore that dress specifically to tempt him, and despite my best efforts and obvious flirtations, I found myself no more ravished at the end of the evening than I was at the beginning! The one man I wanted to impress barely even looked my way more than usual. What an utter waste of a good dress. And the Senator calls me cruel..."

She'd worn it to tease him? Mentally, Letant berated himself for not realizing that sooner. He may not have behaved like a lech that evening, but his thoughts had been lightyears from any sort of innocence. He still felt slightly guilty for the sheer amount of times he'd imagined tugging her into the empty corridor outside the banquet hall, pulling the hem of her dress over her hips, and taking her right there where anyone could catch them. He'd been so achingly hard when he'd returned to his quarters that night that he'd been surprised his trousers were still intact.

That was the night he'd resolved to make her his no matter what it took.

"I doubt that I could've been so restrained if I was so sorely tempted," Hiren murmured allowing his eyes to rake down her figure in a leisurely, appreciative path.

"Do not mistake my restraint for a lack of interest," Letant stated tilting his lover's chin so that she was looking into his eyes. "The sight of you in this dress has kept me awake for an obscene amount of nights in my cold, lonely bed."

"That same fate awaits me very soon, dear lady." The Senator's mate blushed at the Praetor's flirtatious words.

"That's assuming you don't find me dull tonight. There's always a chance that one or both of you might be glad that I'm on my way to Vulcan instead of staying here to plague you," she teased. "Anything is possible. You never know, I might turn out to secretly hate Romulans."

Letant couldn't stop himself from scoffing.

"Ah, yes. That must be why you melted so beautifully for me earlier. Falling apart for me over, and over, and over..." He watched with immense satisfaction as she hid her face against Hiren's broad chest.

"It was just a hypothetical example–"

"Oh, of course it was. Yes, your obvious hatred for our kind must be the reason you allowed yourself to be in such an intimate, compromising position with me during our walk yesterday," the Praetor joked, and Letant watched her peek up at him with faux innocence.

"I get the feeling I should be more careful with my words in future conversation." With her free hand resting over his heart, she bit her lip. The man in question swallowed heavily before speaking again in a much quieter voice than before.

"Don't you dare. You're much too fun to tease, sahe'lagge," Hiren murmured.

Before more could be said, however, one of Letant's household staff opened the door to the lounge and announced that dinner was ready and waiting for them in the dining room.

"Ah, thank you," the Senator said, and the three of them made their way down the hall.

Taking in the look of awe and surprise on his mate's face, Letant felt a new sort of wonder about his home that he hadn't in many years. He'd never had the opportunity to view Romulus through the eyes of an outsider, but with the Ambassador experiencing it for the first time, he was beginning to see his planet in a whole new light.

Dinner passed smoothly, the ebb and flow of conversation was completely natural, as if the three of them were destined to be in that exact place at that exact time since the universe first came into existence.

Before long, they found themselves warm, full of food, and thoroughly relaxed in the lounge where the evening had begun. Hiren was in the armchair closest to the fireplace, looking like a king presiding over all he surveyed. The other two were cuddled close to each other on one end of the adjacent sofa.

"You must be joking, dear lady. I cannot picture a woman as well-behaved as you causing trouble enough to be thrown into the brig!" Hiren exclaimed even as Letant let out a snort.

"In my defense, I was goaded into it after a particularly dull conference by this one," she said poking Letant's arm, "whilst more than a little intoxicated."

"Now, Hiren, you don't truly believe I would encourage someone to purposefully misbehave, do you?" He put on his most convincing innocent expression, but both men knew that Hiren wouldn't believe that for a second.

"I would sooner believe that the Tal Shiar was created by Andorians than I would think you innocent of stirring up mischief, Letant," Hiren laughed. "So what exactly did you persuade her to do that got her locked up?"

Letant looked at his lover.

"Unfortunately, I was sworn to secrecy on that matter. Since it was dismissed as a misunderstanding, once I talked the guard into releasing her, the relevant logs were deleted. Our dear lady's embarrassment, however, is as vivid in my memory as our fun this morning," he murmured, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows, and she nodded her head with a bashful smile. "In fact, if you're comfortable, perhaps we should give our honored guest a little show...?"

Letant glanced up at the Praetor as the Ambassador set her drink aside and found surprise etched across his face.

"How do you want me?" She asked taking his hand, but the Senator had other plans.

"Why don't we let our guest decide?" Letant posited as he brought her hand to his lips. Hiren sat up a little straighter as they turned their attention to him.

"I'd like to see your eyes, lhhei. If it's alright with you, why don't you take a seat on the Senator's lap facing me?"

"Anything you wish, my Lord Praetor," she said with a seductive wink. Letant smirked as she took her place. His arms wrapped around her waist and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

"Gorgeous girl," he breathed as his hands began to roam. He wasted no time, caressing her covered breasts and nipping at her neck. Gripping the hem of her dress, Letant did what he'd ached to do since she first paraded herself in front of him wearing it: he tugged it upward, inch-by-inch, until her lacy gray panties were exposed for the Praetor's viewing pleasure.

Once she'd lifted her hips and shimmied them off, Letant whispered a naughty little suggestion that had her smirking almost as deviously as the Senator. Getting briefly to her feet, she sauntered over to Hiren's armchair.

"A souvenir for you, Hiren," she said laying the lacy garment atop his thigh. With a tantalizing brush of her fingertips across the back of his hand, she winked at him and went back to her mate. Letant was pleased to note that the head of the Romulan Empire looked utterly entranced. A deep green blush had blanketed his cheeks.

Perfect.

Within moments, he'd cupped her sex and quite successfully made her beg for his mercy.

Letant's fingers finally plunged into her slick opening, forcing a whine from her throat - pleasure and relief rolled into one desperate little noise. Her hips bucked in an attempt to gain more friction, but the Senator made a disapproving sound.

"Don't let your dress slip down. That's right, grip it tight." He was enjoying this far too much. Her soft backside pressed deliciously against his lok, enticing him into curling his fingers faster. Her hands grasped at his thighs as he drew her ever-closer to the edge of pleasure. Just as she fluttered around his digits, he gripped her jaw and made sure she was facing the Praetor. His lips brushed tantalizingly against her ear. "Scream for us, lovely."

Her eyes locked with Hiren's and she did just that.

Hiren watched as the Ambassador caught her breath in Letant's arms, and he was in awe. The way her back had arched...the way she'd mewled for more as she looked into Hiren's eyes...

He was undone! It took every ounce of his restraint to rise slowly from his seat and drop to his knees on the floor before her. She was so deep in her post-orgasmic haze that she didn't seem to notice him until he laid his hand lightly on her knee. Her eyelids opened, then, to find him looking up at her with open adoration on his face.

"May I have the honor of cleaning you, lhhei?" He asked from between her spread legs. If she said 'no' he would, of course, have done no more than pass Letant a cloth and return to his seat, but something in the way that she stared right into his soul made him think he might be allowed the honor.

Hiren was certain he looked every bit as desirous and savage as he felt. His pupils were probably severely dilated, and he could feel the sizable bulge straining in the crotch of his pants. To be honest, he wouldn't blame her if she refused him.

She managed a mute nod of her head, and his heart fluttered in his chest just as it had when he'd first caught sight of her this evening.

The Praetor smiled as he pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket, shuffling closer on his knees until he was able to trail his nose and lips across the soft length of her thighs. He'd intended only to make a show of breathing her scent, but as he approached her fragrant, dripping center, one of her small, gentle hands met the top of his head.

Assuming she wanted him to stop, he looked up at her, but what he found wasn't hesitation. She was biting her lower lip and looking at him hopefully.

"Hiren...please..." Her quiet supplication made his lok throb. She wanted him to...? But that wasn't usually done.

Then again, a traditional Romulan triad didn't usually involve a Human. Glancing to Letant for added permission, Hiren raised an eyebrow. The Senator gave a nod of his head and spread his lover's legs farther to give him better access.

There was no reason Hiren would ever turn down an opportunity to show a prospective mate his prowess. He braced both his hands on her knees and nuzzled her inner thighs as his mouth inched closer to her soaked center. He was going to savor this, and he was going to make damn certain that she did too.

When he finally gave a long, firm lick over her clit, she whimpered so salaciously that Hiren growled lightly against her folds. Oh, she would be the death of him!

"Am I hurting you, lhhei?" He couldn't resist asking the teasing question as he glanced up at the beautiful woman before him. He knew the answer. Of course, he did. She shook her head 'no' but couldn't seem to form the necessary words to accompany her actions. "Use your words for me, lovely. Am I hurting you?"

"N-No, rekkhai," she stammered as Letant nibbled at her earlobe. The Senator allowed his hands to wander the length of her body, grasping and massaging her curves with familiarity and wonder all at once.

"Such a polite girl," Hiren praised before setting to work in earnest between her legs. He relished the way her grip on his hair tightened as he explored her. Her pheromones had been strong when he'd teased her in the palace gardens, but that was nothing compared to this! Letant's mate was no less than absolutely intoxicating.

Taking note of every movement that made her squirm and plead for him, Hiren explored her with all the fervor and enthusiasm that had so quickly built up within him for this Human. The Praetor had loved before, but in accordance with Romulan tradition, since his first mate was lost, it was now his duty - his prerogative and privilege - to love again even more passionately.

As she let out a shout and convulsed on his tongue, Hiren looked up, and–

Oh...

She was a vision!

Arching into Letant's grasping hands and looking down at him with almost surprised ecstasy, the Ambassador came undone from his attentions. The Praetor moaned against her clit, and the vibrations prolonged her orgasm long enough to send her trembling above him. With careful reverence, he guided her through the aftershocks of her pleasure, licking her clean as he did so.

Eventually, he leaned back on his heels and used his handkerchief to clean the remnants of her slick from his face and her thighs. He was just tucking the cloth back in his pocket when gentle fingertips brushed against his cheeks.

Hiren's gaze snapped immediately back up to meet hers, and the sheer level of affection in her eyes when she smiled at him nearly made him tear up. It was obvious, now, that he was very much in danger of falling harder for her than he had for anyone else.

"Thank you, Hiren." Her voice was lower...more relaxed than before, and a surge of pride went through him at that realization.

"No, thank you, e'lev lhhei," he rasped covering her hand with his own for a long, tender moment before carefully righting her dress.

He hadn't expected her to keep with Romulan tradition since she was Human, but she had. And he certainly hadn't expected her to allow him to take care of her like that. Such an honor was usually reserved for much later in the courting journey, specifically for a third who'd already been accepted. Did she even realize what a gift she'd given him? The trust that must have taken on her part...

The Praetor couldn't help but wonder if she'd simply been aroused enough that she didn't care where the stimulation came from, or if she was truly attracted to him. The gentleness with which she'd touched him both before and after he'd pleased her suggested that perhaps there was a chance that it was the latter. He desperately hoped that was the case.

Before he forgot, there was one last thing he needed to do before the night was over.

Moving away from her briefly, he stood and retrieved a small box from the sideboard where he'd placed it earlier in the evening.

"I realize that your ship will depart tonight, so before I lose my chance, I want to make sure that I give you this," Hiren said as walked back over to the sofa. From her place draped across Letant's lap, the Ambassador looked at him curiously. The Praetor sat beside the pair of them and watched her untie the ribbon holding the little green box shut.

Inside was a glass bottle shaped like a larger version of the little flowers that Hiren had shown her in his garden. Her eyes went wide and she looked up at him in surprise.

"Hiren, is this...?"

"Sleeping Sun perfume. You expressed an interest when we were in the garden, and I thought...I realize this isn't much, but I hoped that this might...that you might see fit to remember me as you travel the galaxy to your next assignment," the Praetor murmured. He felt as nervous as a schoolboy with his first crush.

Looking at him with an unspeakably soft expression, she grasped both his large hands in hers and brought them to her lips. Not for the first time, he marveled at the contrast between the two of them. She truly was magnificent!

"Thank you for the perfume, but I hope you know I could never forget such a charming man, Hiren," she whispered, and his heart thudded faster in his side. "I know it'll be a while before we see each other again, but I do hope you'll both write to me until then."

Both men agreed, and she nodded her head as if she had finally decided on something.

"Oh, by the way, if you can manage to get to Deep Space Nine in three months' time, we should be able to spend more time together. Letant can give you all the details, if you're interested," she said, and Hiren smiled wider than he'd thought possible.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." The Praetor's voice hitched in his throat as she turned his hands over and started tracing sleepy little patterns on his palms. "Should I see myself out so you can rest with your mate?"

"Unless you have somewhere to be, you're more than welcome to stay, old friend," Letant offered nuzzling his partner's hair softly.

By the time the Ambassador beamed up to her starship with a teary farewell to both men, the trio's interactions had become significantly more natural than ever before. Conversation, teasing, flirtation, all were as easy as breathing by the time the two men were left to their own devices.

"I take it you like what you saw tonight?" Letant asked as he poured his friend a glass of water to balance out the kali-fal they'd consumed that night.

"She is incredible. I fear I won't be able to wait three months to see her again," he answered as he absentmindedly accepted the glass. "Letant, tell me truthfully: do you believe this can work?"

"If I didn't, tonight wouldn't have happened."

Hiren admired his friend's confidence. He could only hope that he was right.

~*~*~

Romulan Words:

e'lev = dear, darling

lhhei = my lady

sahe'lagge = passionflower

rekkhai = sir

~*~

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@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

#deepspacedukat fic #Praetor Hiren x Reader #Hiren x Reader #Senator Letant x Reader #Letant x Reader

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