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khywren · 4 months ago

Text

actual footage of me reading this fic

Pairing: Astarion/f!Tav ~ Astarion/f!OC (Ofelia) Word Count: 9,709 Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Does this Count as Monster Smut?, Oral, PIV Sex, Fingering, Masturbation Summary: A gifted grimoire from her friends spells trouble when Ofelia accidentally summons an incubus. ~ An Incubus Astarion AU lovingly written and inspired by this artwork by @poofroom featuring my Tav and longfic main character, Ofelia!

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AO3 | Song Reference: Christian Woman by Type O Negative

I'm hoping to complete at least 4 prompts this month, once a week, but my main fic is my upmost priority! Still, I'm really excited to share this one!! @khywren really inspired me with their recent AMAZING writings, please check out their Kinktober 2024 works so far! You won't be disappointed! 🖤

No forgiveness,

For her sins.

Prefers punishment.

Would you suffer eternally?

Or internally?

For her lust,

She’ll burn in hell.

Her soul done medium well.

***

“There, all done!” Ofelia says to herself, dropping the white chalk she’d used to draw the symbol from the spellbook. It’d been a silly present from one of her friends- a gag gift, really. Spirit of the season and all that. What else is she supposed to do on a Friday night after three pina coladas and zero luck?

All her prospects were dull, and all of them had made some kind of backhanded remark about her intelligence or appearance at some point during the conversation that her interest had waned instantly. She’d definitely been to better Halloween parties.

For her own amusement, she sits and holds a candle up, briefly reading over the pages. She’s got the first ingredient, flickering restlessly in her other hand, the food offering to her right (a popcorn ball), something to channel the energy (a crystal that came with the book), and currency of some kind (a few quarters from her laundry fund). The last requirement is her blood.

“Whatever,” She shrugs, setting the candle down on its point in the star before leaning over to grab the pocket knife she’d used to open the package. She’s still tipsy, and explaining away a bandaged hand tomorrow doesn’t seem like that big of an issue to her at the moment.

She carefully presses the blade's tip into the meat of her palm and drags in one clean slice, wincing and holding her hand over the point closest to her. Droplets dot the white chalk with red and she clenches her fingers, waiting until there’s a small puddle, before getting up to grab her first aid kit and wrap the wound. Once reseated, she examines the page, noting something looks off, but neglecting to read further into why the diagrams are different before reciting the words at the bottom of the page.

She holds her breath, eyes scanning the apartment, before settling back on the circle. And… nothing happens.

“Oh!” She gasps when the candle blows out, expecting some kind of grand entrance- maybe a ring of fire! Or a black pit, opening within the symbol! But nothing comes.

She pouts dejectedly and gathers the items up before chucking them all into a box. She glares at the book, clasped between her fingers, and sighs. If anything, she’d hoped for a little excitement from this tonight- but magic isn’t real, and despite her alcohol-addled mind, she was a fool to think she could conjure it.

She gets up and opens her top dresser drawer, tossing the book in without a second thought as she checks the time on her phone- almost one. She walks into the living space, which is technically still part of her bedroom and separated only by a meager curtain. Her TV is off and silent against the wall, and she pulls her hoodie off to toss over the back of her couch.

The cool air flows in from her window AC and blesses the exposed skin around her costume- she’d gone as a devil, the strapless red bodysuit and pink tights still clinging to her. She pulls the headache-inducing horned headband off and sets it next to her sweater, turning and scanning the room for her prize. She smiles when she sees it, fetching the half-empty bottle of Malibu from the counter before downing it until her fingers numb and a delightful buzz thrums in her head. The night had been long, and an untold amount of sticky fluids had gotten on her legs, arms, and torso during the party so a shower before turning in feels like the perfect idea.

She goes into the bedroom to tug the bodice of the costume down until her breasts are free, breathing a sigh of relief when the constricting fabric is finally off. Her tights follow after, leaving her in nothing but her underwear as she moves towards her dresser. Her eyes linger on the book when she opens the drawer to pull out a night dress and she almost closes it before cocking a brow. Her hand hovers over her favorite slip as her eyes fall onto the page she’d been referencing when she drew the circle, but she swears it had been closed when she’d thrown it inside. The scrawl below it almost looks handwritten, not printed, but when Ofelia tries to read it, goosebumps gradually spread over her arms and legs and she scoffs at the words she can decipher.

“What the hell does ‘mind-altering satisfaction’ mean?” She mutters as she closes the book and grabs her dress before shoving the drawer closed again.

She starts the shower before discarding the remaining scrap of cloth into her hamper, leaning against her sink to wipe her makeup off. Tossing the cotton pads into the trash, she jumps under the hot stream, a low hum leaving her lips. It feels amazing as it rushes over her skin and douses her hair. She runs her hands up over her body, jumping when she caresses the sides of her breasts. They’re extra sensitive, and in her tingling, buzzing mind she feels her stomach tighten in response.

She shrugs. No one had been worthy to take home anyway. Might as well make the most of the night.

Her fingers ghost over her nipples and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip in an effort to stifle the sound that nearly tears out of her throat. Stars dance behind her eyes and she laughs incredulously, wiping the hair plastered to her cheeks away. It’d never felt this intense, and curiosity coaxes her hands lower as she carefully slips a finger between her legs.

“God!” She hisses, catching herself before she falls onto the tiled floor. Her vision nearly whites under the slightest glance against her clit and she heaves for breath, both palms pressing against the wall. She’d only drank her usual cocktails, and had been watching her drink like a hawk all night, so being exposed to something slipped into her glass at the party is out of the question. She shakes her head, cursing as her clit begins to throb steadily against the water streaming down the front of her body. She suppresses another groan, clenching her thighs together as she rinses out the remaining suds from her hair.

The need humming through her veins is almost blinding, and with shaking hands she pushes her hair back before leaning against the wall. She won’t fall this time… won’t fall…

She cries out as she runs her middle finger along her slit, teeth sinking into the soft skin of her forearm. Her entire body shakes from the pleasure of it, so intense that it weakens her knees and she almost buckles to the floor again. She bites harder to center herself, afraid of the bruise that will surely stand out in the morning, but she’ll manage.

She dips between her folds, the slick beneath so copious she can feel it through the stream from the showerhead. She moans and cautiously presses a finger inside, slowly, but no matter how careful she could have been, it doesn’t stop the sharp coil in her gut and the shockwave of ecstasy that flashes from the roots of her hair down to the tips of her toes.

She mewls like an untouched virgin, mind hazy with want. This… this is unlike anything she’s ever felt- not like she’s had much experience in that department- but every nerve feels like it’s on fire. The shower turns to ice and she has to step out, body quivering and skin clammy despite the temperature of the water.

She grabs the towel, whining as the fabric rubs against the sensitive flesh on her breasts before slipping her nightgown over her head. The thin black satin and lace clings to her and she stares at the mess in the mirror as she dries her hair, eyes catching on the stiff peaks on her chest straining against the fabric. They trail up over her arms and her shoulders before stopping and freezing.

“What the hell…?” She whispers, dropping the towel to press up against the sink again, trying to ignore the little shivers of pleasure when her nipples rub against the chilled granite. Her fingers seek the strange marks that circle her neck almost like a tattoo, the dashes and squiggles familiar, almost…

There’s no way. There’s no way.

Ofelia doesn’t stop to pick her towel up off the floor, sweat making her damp hair stick to her face and neck as it breaks out over her entire body. She opens the drawer once more to the book open, not closed as she’d left it. She swears and pulls it out, setting it on top as she looks at the scrawl over the page opposite to the sigil. It’s indecipherable, in some kind of language or symbols she can’t read, but it matches the marks on her skin perfectly. Whatever they are, they’re definitely a result of the ritual, and Ofelia sinks into a sitting position on her mattress as regret fills her mind.

I shouldn’t have done that. God, I’m so stupid. Mama warned me never to mess with this stuff. Ofelia chews on her cuticles, nervous energy humming alongside the desire burning in her body. Every sense of hers is attuned to the way the slip touches her skin, how her clit throbs for attention, how she clenches around nothing, aching to fill the void.

It isn’t natural, and that fact scares her more than she’d like to admit. She pushes the craving to touch out of her mind, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear before crawling beneath her duvet. It’s hot, so hot… her skin feels like lava- her heart beat skyrocketing. Maybe she’s going to die?

“Oh god, I’m so stupid. So stupid!” She sobs, shoving her face into the pillow as she lays on her stomach. The pressure makes her roll her hips before she can stop herself and she whimpers, biting the silk pillowcase to redirect her frustration. Maybe she should give in and see if that’ll end this torment, but the unease of the situation needles at her mind... She rolls over and tugs the blanket around her chin, twisting her hips and drumming her fingers over her stomach. The length of the day settles over her shoulders and it weighs her down despite the sweat on her skin and the ache between her legs. She tries not to picture the relief she’d feel if her legs were spread instead, slip tugged over her chest, underwear discarded. She groans and shuts her eyes, somehow drifting off to sleep.

She dreams in scattered images, flashing across her vision like a picture show. Hot, begging, on her knees. A man with strong hands and sharp teeth touches her heated skin, peels her dress off, mouths at her breasts… her haggard breathing is audible in the room, echoing off the walls, her hips rolling into his touch, her mouth closing around-

Her eyes fly open, the curtains in front of her window fluttering in the breeze as the clock registers that it’s only one thirty. It takes a moment to adjust to the darkness, and she vaguely recalls not leaving it open… The covers fall off her chest when she sits up, soft moonlight pouring in to paint her body a cool blue. The slip rides up her hips, breasts spilling out the sides, and something moves out of the corner of her vision that sparks gooseflesh to spread over her bare thighs and arms.

The curtain flutters away, revealing the silhouette of a man. Except it isn’t a man… As the light illuminates the hard cut of his torso, bat-like wings stretch and unfurl on either side of him, wicked horns curling up and over his silver hair. Red irises glow in the night, trained on her face, a tail swishing behind him. She doesn’t breathe, doesn’t move- her heart pounds, but her body reacts in a way she hadn’t expected. Her skin breaks out in the same feverish sweat that she’d felt before crawling into bed, her stomach aching and her breathing coming in short pants. She chances a glance in the full length mirror across the room, her cheeks flushing red at the uselessness of her night dress. The marks that had started at her neck circle her wrists and close around her thighs like bands.

“Am I dreaming?” She asks softly, unable to resist the pull she feels towards him. He takes a step and she tenses, eyes admiring his broad shoulders, ornamental silver bracers covering each forearm. Most of his body is bare, save for the thin piece of satiny fabric and gilded chains covering his hips. Her eyes trace the trail of hair that disappears beneath, down until her breath chokes out of her. Her thighs press together at the hard outline beneath the loincloth, her imagination filling in the gaps- thick, straining, throbbing. Her mouth floods with saliva and she swallows thickly as the steady pulse from earlier begs for attention, shame dissolving as his crimson gaze flows down over her exposed breasts. The sudden urge to touch him fills her mind until it’s all she can think about, even as he opens his mouth to expose sharp canines.

“I’m afraid not.” His voice, smooth and velvety, covers her body like honey. She shivers as he takes another step, so close now that she can see the sharp tips of his ears beneath his hair. His lips curl into a fiendish grin and she shakes her head, wanting him closer, god, she can’t take the distance anymore. Some fire’s possessing her and she feels herself clench again, the sudden instinct to grind against the mattress and relieve the tension leaving her dazed. Her mind roars, wanting more than anything she’s ever wanted before to have him touch her. It drowns rational thoughts, save for a single line of curiosity.

“What are you?” She can’t help but ask, though her eyes can’t be deceiving her. He appraises her with a considering gleam, his wings folding back and out of the way. The horns have to be enough- the devilish tail. His soft laugh covers her body in a fresh wave of heat and she closes her eyes.

“You summoned me, shouldn’t you know?” She opens her eyes and he’s hovering right across from her at the end of the bed. Eye level with his stomach, she bites back the whimper of need that tries to push past her clenched teeth at the sight of him, his little strip of fabric doing nothing but veiling the color of his skin. She feels a gush of wetness between her legs as she clenches and strains to stay still, huffing her breath out.

“Didn’t think it would work. Are you the one that’s doing this to me?” She mutters, too late to cover her breasts but she does it anyway- anything to remain in the illusion of control. The sharp tick of his smile tells her he isn’t buying it, and she widens her eyes in surprise when his wings disappear. He drops his knees onto the mattress and she yelps when it dips.

Fuck… he’s real.

“What did you think would happen when you opened a black grimoire and chose a spell? That an imp would pop up and throw money at you?” She bites her lip, watching his long black fingernails clench the duvet and pull it farther down the bed.

“Well…” His eyes flash with annoyance.

“All you humans are the same- power, money, fame, wealth. Make a mistake? Wrong page?” She bristles at his sudden chiding, cursing her friends for giving her the damn thing. She’s going to throttle them tomorrow.

“So what? Can’t you just go back to where you came from?” She sucks in a breath when he draws closer, hands planting themselves on either side of her ankles. She watches him carefully, the way the light shines through the thin fabric of his loincloth to show her the heavy shadow of his cock beneath, and she bites the inside of her cheek when her clit throbs at the sight.

“I’m contracted, stupid mortal. Your blood has bound me to this plane. I can't just go back.” He sneers and she squirms as he crawls forward again, his head hovering over her hips. Her mind imagines filthy things with him so close, her body betraying her as her thighs untense and spread softly- barely a few inches- but it’s enough. She watches his gaze drop to the arms covering her chest, then lower, and she snaps her legs back together.

“Um… sorry. What contract? What does it entail?” He looks back up at her, lips pressed into a firm line of disappointment and she glares back.

“You didn’t read the fine print?”

“What fine fucking print? I can’t read half the words on those pages!” She cries out indignantly, not realizing her frustrated gesturing has left her chest exposed again. He surges forward quicker than she can react and with the sharp edges of his nails, he rips the straps off her dress, causing her breasts to fall free properly. She yelps, instinctively trying to cover up again but he snaps his fingers and the script on her wrists glows, making her palms flatten against the bed.

“I’ll let you guess the terms,” He murmurs, sitting back on his heels. She squirms, trying to free her arms, and when he snaps his fingers again she can lift them.

“What- what was that?” She whispers, fear clouding her voice. He smirks, his hands resting on his thighs, and gestures towards the dresser.

“Says it in the fine print.”

“Please?” She whimpers, hugging her torso tightly. She’s afraid- afraid of the patterns on her thighs, on her wrists, on her neck. She stares at them warily, the terror that had been muted by her lust now stretching into every part of her body. What’s going on? What is he? What’s going to happen to me?

“Tssk,” He settles back fully, legs crossing on her mattress. Her eyes move over his face again, catching on his pretty red eyes, his full lips. The slope of his nose is beautiful- strong and sharp. She traces his features, finding her heartbeat slowing slightly the longer she takes him in. His lips part, revealing those sharp fangs on both the top and bottom row of his teeth, and she idly wonders what they’d feel like on her neck, on her skin… “Darling… I can’t have you afraid of me. That’s not how this night is going to go.” His soft voice makes her shiver and she’s lulled by the sound of it. She raises her head slightly, gaze growing heavier the longer he stares at her.

“How this night is going to go…?” She echoes, slow, the end shaped like a question. His tail swishes back and forth before the spade tip caresses up her calf. With him finally touching her, she gasps, the softest glance magnified like it was earlier. She shudders, pressing her thighs more tightly together, shaking her head, but her body eventually wins out.

“The terms, dear…” He murmurs, leaning forward again. Her skin is feverish when his tail draws away and he crawls over her again. She shrinks back, lying against her pillows, his thighs caging her in as his hands settle on either side of her head.

“Uh…” She stammers, trying to get a coherent thought through. He’s so close she can see small flecks of gold in his eyes and the soft ridges on his horns. She finds herself wanting to caress them, the thought causing her cheeks to burn. “Terms… right. The spell is making me… making my body act like this?” She whispers cautiously and he nods, encouraging her to continue. “It made these… weird tattoos show up on my skin… and you can control them?” He nods again, eyes twinkling in amusement. Her nostrils flare in irritation, but she keeps going, realization finally dawning as she approaches the conclusion.

“I… this lust… oh my god…” He tuts, smirking with satisfaction.

“You finally understand?” The growl in his voice makes her eyes flutter shut. With the answer flaring brightly behind her lids, her body opens up in a way it hadn’t before. Her thighs spread until they’re pushing against his knees, her breath leaving her in a rush. She clenches around nothing, thinking about the shape of him under the loincloth and when her eyes snap open again he laughs, deep and sugared.

“You want my body?” She asks breathlessly, the slip hanging over her stomach becoming itchy and unbearable. His lashes fall halfway and when his forked tongue darts across his lower lip she whimpers in response.

“Usually you call an incubus because you need relief, but… your scent is maddening and I've barely even touched you…” He purrs, lips dropping down to her jaw. She moans at the slightest touch, her cunt clenching again followed by a rush of wetness dripping down her folds. Her underwear are long since ruined, and she slowly moves her hands up, hesitating over him.

“Can I… touch you?” She gasps, the last threads of restraint slowly snapping. He pulls away, hungry eyes raking over her face and neck and down to her breasts. She tugs her lower lip into her mouth, watching him nod, before caressing the planes of his chest.

His skin is so hot… a lovely shade of light rose. Her fingers ghost over his collarbones before pressing up, up, to the sides of his face. His crimson gaze flicks back up to meet hers and she teeters over the edge, debating, before he makes the decision for her and leans down to capture her lips.

Wet and messy, their tongues tangle and she whimpers into his mouth, hands carding through his hair. He tastes divine… or wicked, she isn’t sure which. His kiss is hot, lips soft and she moans against his tongue when his teeth catch on her lip to lightly nip at it. It’s all her favorite flavors at once and she can’t keep her hips on the bed, wanting to pull him in closer, wanting to feel the hard edge of his cock-

“Nnng!” She gasps when he nudges his shaft against her stomach, the weight of it making her dizzy. Her clit pulses and blood pounds through her, vocalizing the wave of desire in breathy pants against his mouth. He doesn’t stay quiet either- the sounds and groans he makes turning her insides to liquid as she rocks against him, hands clawing at his back. His anchor on her dress and a loud tear sounds through the room as he rips it free.

“Hey! That was my favorite!” She protests, but he’s sinking his knees between her thighs and tossing the scraps away, revealing her naked torso to him. The anger dies as she watches him draw back, and can almost feel the burning of his gaze over her body. She squirms again, clamping her legs around his, wanting to hide from the attention but it’s all in vain. All for show. She couldn’t deny him now even if she wanted to.

“Darling, don’t lie. You’re just as impatient as I am,” His voice is deep, sitting in the back of his throat. She inhales sharply, watching him lower himself to press his nose into the hollow of her neck. His cock settles over her heat, separated by two layers of fabric, and before she can grind into it his hands are on her hips, forcing them still.

“God…” She whispers, the steady throb against her aching bud making her jaw go slack. He laps at the skin of her neck, making her legs twitch, before his sharp upper canines sink in. If she’d been delirious before… she’s absolutely lost now.

She cries out, heart pounding as he slowly drags his heavy length over her soaked underwear. His loincloth is covering the image from sight as she angels her jaw down, delighting in every bite he peppers over her neck and shoulder. She drags her fingers over his horns and he groans, hips stuttering, the sound needy and desperate. She continues caressing as his tail flicks in the air, pleased and tenderly mouthing at the aching wounds he’s left on her. They sting, but there’s something new in the mix- churning around her gut and making her mouth spill constant sighs and pants as her vision goes hazy and pink.

“W-what do I call you?” She asks, taking in his messy curls and kiss-swollen mouth. Blood stains his lips and a curl of want pulses south at the sight, wanting him to push her panties to the side and rub directly against her, the pressure so distracting she almost rolls her hips automatically, chasing the feeling of him.

He cocks a brow, inhaling deeply before a delicate smile crosses his face. His tail winds around her leg and she laughs in spite of herself, enjoying the way the tip rubs soft circles into the inside of her thigh.

“Astarion,” He murmurs, and she lowers her hands from his horns, eyes darting to his groin.

“Astarion…” She rolls his name around on her tongue, the subtle shiver that shifts through him not going unnoticed. “Mine’s Ofelia,” She mumbles and he strokes her cheek.

“Ofelia,” She preens at how he says it, a flush spreading over her cheeks in response. Her fingers push into the cloth at his hips, a silent question hanging in the air as she gently tugs on it. He nods and she fiddles with the clasp at the side of his hip before it falls and flutters away, leaving him exposed.

She isn’t sure if it’s the side effects of the spell or simply her own desire, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight of him.

“Oh.” Is all she says, like an idiot. Her eyes admire the girth- thick veins spreading over the shaft. He’s nearly purple at the tip, leaking onto her underwear, and she shifts restlessly at the sight as her mouth floods with saliva and her clit aches as he nudges against it.

“I see I’m going to have to do all the sweet-talking, pet.” She shudders as his hands brush along her trembling stomach muscles, down to her thighs, before guiding her underwear down and off. They run back up the length of her torso, softly squeezing and kneading at the soft flesh of her breasts as his lips catch on one of her nipples. She whimpers at the sensations building inside, chasing his touches with her fingers, craving more contact with an almost crazed fervor. She’s still hypnotized by the length of him as he gently rubs his cock between her puffy folds and she swallows, strangled moans caught in her throat. The hard ridge along his tip drags over her swollen clit and in addition to the lightning bolt of pleasure that coaxes more juices to spill from her, the urge to taste him is so intense that it feels like it’s written on her bones.

“I… I want you here.” She mumbles, fingers tracing her face, and he laughs.

“You want to see… if you can take me… in your pretty mouth…?” He whispers, thumb brushing over her lower lip. She nods desperately, parting them to suck him in as her body trembles in anticipation. His jaw tightens as he watches, her tongue swirling around his warm skin, fierce with desire. She hums when his cock twitches, softly bumping her stomach when he moves as a quiet sound vibrates in his chest. He watches her a moment more, eyes burning, before he shifts to the side and drags her off the bed, onto the floor.

She sits obediently on her knees, closing her eyes as his fingers thread into her hair. His touch is soft, and her face warms as she realizes what he’s doing, but embarrassment has long since receded into the recesses of her mind. He gathers the strands at the back of her head before tugging gently- just the way she likes. She sighs, opening her eyes to shamelessly stare at him, yearning to lick the pearl of glistening pre-cum off his flushed tip. She flicks her eyes up to his and the desire she sees there lights a fire in her belly that spurs her forward, hands resting over his hips as she sets her sights and dives in.

Astarion hisses when she kisses the base of him, bathing him in her attention and affectionate nips. Her thighs shiver as she continues her trail of teasing, his grip on her scalp growing tighter. She flashes him a soft smile before kissing down the weighty length of him, lips parting when she pulls away to watch him leak a silvery strand down to her breasts. She swallows a breathy whine before eagerly lapping it up, her ears ringing from the sharp inhale and throaty groan he gives her when she finally sucks the tip inside.

He fills her entire mouth before she can draw him in further and her cunt clenches with jealousy imagining him pushing inside, on her back, a bruising grip on her hips… Her fantasies play behind her closed lids as she hollows her cheeks and relaxes her jaw to swallow more, moaning lightly as he nudges the back of her throat.

Tears form in her eyes as she blinks up at him, her hips restless as he tugs on her hair and pulls out of her mouth before slowly thrusting inside. The fingers of her free hand trail down her body, pinching at the pebbled flesh on her breasts before dipping lower to alleviate some of the tension winding around her belly. She spreads the slick gathering at her entrance, circling her aching clit, and her eyes squint shut, sobbing at the spark of pleasure that flashes up her body, his cock twitching in her mouth.

“Hells…” He whispers, her mind slowly melting the longer he fucks her mouth. Her entire body aches for him, for this pleasure- she squirms and whimpers, letting him set the pace as she rocks against her hand. He’s considerate of her adjustment period until a glimmering sweat breaks out on his chest and her eyes track a drop as it follows the curve of his pelvic bone. When it meets his shaft a switch flips and she abandons all rational thought for the need to please.

She struggles to take him fully, but every time he needly ruts into her and her lips meet his hips he grunts- a gravelly, greedy thing that stokes the heat in her belly until she’s whimpering and shivering for more. He’s making a mess out of her, and she increases the pace, removing her hand from its previous position to pull his hips in each time they snap forward hungrily. He smears spit and slick over her chin each time he slips out until it's dripping over her breasts and fingers, her thumbs swirl the fluid over the stiff peaks of her nipples as waves of pleasure rumble through her- just as strong as it had been in the shower, perhaps even more.

They lock eyes as he angles her chin to take more of him, electricity shooting through her as her tongue swirls around before lingering on the sensitive underside of his head. He yanks her hair and hisses, in one fluid motion pistoning inside and she moans on his cock. Her mind is blissfully blank as he pins her against the side of the bed, reveling in the way he twitches and cups her cheek as he drives in and out, in and out at a languid pace. The blunt head of his cock kisses the back of her throat again, his stomach muscles tightening, and her fingers brush over the seam of his balls until his hips stutter and a raspy moan pours from his mouth. She holds his gaze, taking him impossibly deeper, and she whines in disapproval when he slips out with a lewd pop.

“Can’t have you driving the whole time, darling,” He murmurs, and she gasps when he leans down to meld their lips together in a bruising kiss. The enthusiasm behind his touches makes her hum happily and he places a hand over her throat before squeezing and forcing her to stand. His tight grip makes her dizzy and she sways on her feet, mind blank, as he chuckles and presses them tightly together.

“Like that, do you?” He murmurs in her ear and she nods, wrapping her arms around his waist as his sharp canines brush against her skin.

“Do you… drink the blood?” She whispers, brief flashes of curiosity drifting through her lust-clouded mind.

“Hmm?” She draws back so their lips brush, the striking scarlet of his eyes inquisitive and rapt.

“You had blood on your lips earlier, when you bit me…” She whispers, watching his face shift in recognition.

“Ahh… that.” He grins, a fang peeking out from under his top lip and it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen. “It’s common for us to partake- the magic in your blood increases your sense of touch and your blood in turn does for us as well. It’s why you needed to sacrifice it for the spell.” His smile twists into something sinful, her legs pressing together. “Somehow, I hardly need the encouragement...” He whispers as his hands softly squeeze her ass. She smiles in reply, eyes lingering on his teeth and she hesitantly presses a kiss to his jaw. More follow, light and sweet as his grip fluctuates from gentle to rough when her lips brush over his neck.

“Can I…?” She asks and he nods at her testing teeth before she sinks her own into his skin. He sighs into her ear, his hands caressing her back as his sharp nails lightly scratch over her skin. She whimpers into the marks she leaves him with, nipping up to his earlobe before teasing the skin between her teeth. He stills and groans, grinding his stiff length against her hip and she licks up to the pointed tip before sucking it lightly into her mouth.

“Ofelia…” Her name rumbling in his chest makes her dizzy and she moves her left hand up to tickle the other ear until he’s driving them forward. The back of her knees connect with the mattress and she yelps, falling flat on her back as he stands between her parted thighs. His eyes are dark- the red eclipsed by his blown wide pupils, and her body shivers in fear. She feels hunted, prey beneath a ravenous lion, and the feeling twists her insides as he drops to a crouch and lifts her legs until they’re resting over his shoulders. She almost moans at the sight…

“I can’t leave until you’re satisfied…” He murmurs, nipping at the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. His fangs graze the skin before he sinks them in and that rosy haze covers her vision again, her mind numb to the rest of the world as she focuses on what his mouth is doing. He’d been right about whatever’s in his saliva or bite as electricity tingles beneath her skin, every one of his touches sending sparks down the length of her body.

“God… I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of this.” She mumbles, forehead creasing in an effort to concentrate on him. He chuckles darkly, his burning gaze intertwined with hers and as she watches her blood drip from the corner of his lips her body twitches in response. It’s the most erotic thing she’s ever seen, almost hotter than when she’d peeled off the cloth, and she whines under his smug smile.

“Don’t go saying that now…” He whispers as he presses soft kisses up, closer to where she needs him most. “Or I’ll be tempted to show you which page the binding spell is on.” She gasps, not having time to process his words as his tongue darts out to swipe up the seam of her before languidly running back down. Her vision whites, a high-pitched cry tearing from her throat as he circles her clit. The fork in his tongue adds an extra sensation that makes fireworks explode behind her eyes, her hips lifting off the bed as he lightly flicks and dips it lower, embarrassing noises spilling from her lips as she drags her fingers through his hair.

When he circles her entrance, lapping at the slick that’s been dripping down her thighs, she throws her head back and begs, pleading on deaf ears for him to plunge in, his nose pressing into the aching swell of her and it’s just the right amount of pressure-

“Fuck!” She sobs, back arching off the bed as his long fingers push inside in place of his tongue. He licks softly at her clit, pushing the hood back gently and when he sucks she nearly blacks out. His fingers are thick, so warm… he starts with two, working her open, curling in until he nudges the place inside she’s lucky to reach on a good day. It makes her entire body convulse as she clamps her thighs around him, fingers twisting in the sheets as his name tumbles from her lips over and over again like a prayer.

“Another, sweet girl?” The lilt to his voice is so innocent, but the words are pure sin and a shiver runs from the base of her skull to the tip of her spine in response, her babbling incoherent. Instead, she nods, trying to keep her eyes open, focusing on the little vent on her ceiling, anything- god he’s too good…

When he adds another digit she almost comes undone, but he shushes her with a kiss on the inside of her thigh, halting his movements. She’s allowed a few seconds to breathe, gasping for air, propping herself up on her elbows to look at him. His hair is falling from its perfect swoop atop his head, dusting his eyes. He’s so handsome she almost can’t believe this is real, so focused on how hot he looks eating her out that she doesn’t see his arm coiling before he sets the pace again.

Her eyes fly shut and her head falls back, wanton cries filling the air- so loud she’s certain there will be a noise complaint in her mailbox in the morning.

His thumb strokes over her swollen nub as he pushes inside and she’s gone.

Her ankles lock around his head, pulling him deeper as she comes on his tongue and his name leaves her lips over and over, chest heaving as tears pool and spill out of the corners of her eyes. Her hips leave the mattress, her mind unaware how, hands anchored to his horns to keep him there all while his tongue massages her inner walls and draws her pleasure out with every stroke. It’s never been like this- completely blank, delirious, incoherent. It feels like someone’s holding her over a flame and she’s burning, burning, stroking her fingers over the ridges of his horns as he shivers and runs his tongue up over her sensitive clit, making her wail at the overstimulation. Her hips finally meet the mattress again as she dissolves over the messy blanket, realizing his nails had pressed stinging cuts to her buttocks as he’d dragged her over the edge.

“Satisfied?” He whispers, his face hovering over hers. She hadn’t noticed he’d shifted and her hands had fallen, her stare empty and tracking dust motes floating through the beams of moonlight. She focuses on his pretty lips, glistening from his previous ministrations, and she reaches up to pull him into a deep kiss as he stumbles and falls over her, his chuckle stroking some deeply seated, violent thing inside her. He tastes like her, the two of them mixed and she’s tingling from head to toe, so consumed by touching every part of him as her hands explore and roam. They find his neglected length and she softly strokes him with one as the other rests over the nape of his neck to continue sliding their lips together.

“Not yet…” She finally answers him after pulling away to gasp for air, voice ragged. She smiles sweetly, lashes dipped low, wanting him closer. Something about him just burrows inside, familiar and calming. She hadn’t noticed it before, too buried beneath the overpowering magic thrumming through her veins. She’s glad that he’s the one that showed up.

She nuzzles her nose into his hair, the faintest hint of brimstone and ash dusting his white locks. He stutters out a low, breathy moan as she continues to slowly stroke him and in her trance she pulls back to bare her throat for him. She quickens her pace as his teeth sink in once more, drawing filthy moans from her lips as heat coils in her belly. It’s addicting, the pain and pleasure of his sharp teeth. She offers up more of herself to him and her hips snap up into his when his mouth closes around one nipple to puncture the sensitive skin before greedily suckling on it.

“Nnng… ‘starion…” She mumbles, a strangled cry leaving her lips as she spreads the pre-cum weeping from his cock down his shaft, his mouth going rough as he groans in reply. “Need you…” She murmurs and he sucks harder before leaving bleeding crescents over her other breast.

“You taste so good…” He whispers, the soft snap of his fingers wrenching her hands from her control as they come up, above her head, wrists glowing as if he’s holding them himself. The loss of control is staggering, but as he rises, eyes glowing, blood coating his lips, she feels a fierce craving spread low in her body before she’s aching for him and his tongue and fingers won’t suffice this time. She wants the real thing.

“Please…” She whines, straining against her invisible bonds as he presses himself against her slit to coat himself in the wetness there. Slippery, obscene sounds fill the room and the way he slides and catches on her entrance before gliding over her throbbing clit coax her heart to pound harder, a shock sparking between her legs at his low lurching moan.

“Please-!” She repeats, thrashing as he continues, every touch and throb of his cock pure torture. His claws dig into her hips, her mouth spilling every curse and prayer she knows as he prods at her entrance.

“My turn,” He growls, stilling her rocking hips. Her eyes slam closed as she shudders around him, the pain a dull echo as he gradually sinks into her waiting heat. He almost doesn’t fit, eyes latched onto the place he’s desperately trying to defile, and she watches him tremble under the effort of restraint when he finally slips inside. He draws a muffled wail from her as he sinks inside, an iron grip holding her in place as she twists her arms above her, panting and clenching around him as she adjusts to the stretch. She finally relaxes as his hands caress her shivering thighs, letting him gently soothe her tense muscles so he can fully sheath within her.

The feeling of fullness is like nothing else- he occupies every inch as his hips finally meet hers and her breath rushes out of her as if he’s taking up every spare bit of room inside her body. He waits, lower lip anchored beneath twin fangs, and she holds him in her blurring gaze. She can’t breathe, chest tight, the soft sounds building in her chest climbing into a litany of pleading and praise.

“So… much… please move,” She gasps as he reaches up to grab her hands and the bonds vanish, guiding them down to the mattress on either side of her head as their fingers intertwine. He’s close, so close she can see every detail on his face, can see the way his brow tenses and sweat gathers over the creasing flesh. Her thighs press against her chest as he folds her legs back, ankles dangling over his shoulders, and she screws her eyes shut as he dips impossibly deeper inside. The whine that slips out of her gritted teeth as he slowly drags out is nothing compared to the sharp, wailing cry when he pistons back into her. It dwarfs any sound she’s ever made; despite the circumstances, her cheeks burn in reply.

“Astarion!” She sobs, holding on to him for dear life. He sets a slow pace at first and she cries with each movement, repeating his name and twisting her head from side to side. He abandons his restraining grip on one of her hands to press one to her throat, stilling her writhing, lips pulled into a fangy grin.

“Eyes on me, pet.” He whispers. She gasps, clenching at the sound of his voice and the tight clutch over her neck. “I’m going to fill you… over… and over… and over…” Her eyes fly shut and she arches into him, mind fogging as he continues to thrust with rough, slow snaps of his hips. “Hells… barely been inside you for a minute… and you’re already brainless.”

“Fuck you,” She gasps when his hand disappears from her neck, a finger pad pressing to her clit to rub soft circles against it.

“That’s the idea,” He chuckles, dropping his lips to kiss her, scattering them over her jaw, neck, and chest. His hot tongue swirls over one nipple, then the other, the pressure building in her lower stomach faster than the first time. Whatever magic flows through her veins, it’s causing her vision to blur, her chest to feel light and her heart to crash against her ribs. Every drag of his cock steals her breath, every whispered word makes her impossibly wetter- afraid to look at the mess in the morning. He squeezes her breasts and her eyes flutter closed, the sensation of stroking on her bundle of nerves making her jump-

“Is that…?” She doesn’t finish, watching his tail flick in the air with a smirk before he descends on her again. “I… I don’t know how much longer-”

“Let go,” He interrupts, tongue flicking over the peaks of her breasts before he locks their gazes once more. She whines, lost in the tide of his thrusts and the way he feels inside her. He so big… so full… she can’t help the way she squeezes and pulls him in each time he pounds back inside, drawing guttural growls from his throat as obscenely wet sounds fill the room. “You’re so good, Ofelia…” He murmurs, fingernails digging into the plump flesh of her thighs as his voice pulls the coil tighter. “Creaming all over my cock.” She bites her lip, his tail rubbing and stroking and pushing her closer and closer and-

“Astarion!” She sobs, every thread unraveling and burning out. There’s an entire night sky sprawled out before her closed eyelids as he fucks her through her climax, every sound he makes sending shockwaves through her after the initial crest and fall. When she finally looks at him, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are nearly black, his cock twitching inside her.

“So… tight…” He mumbles, hands resting over her hips as his thrusts become more erratic. He’s pulsing, growing hotter, filling her more until she feels like she’s going to shatter around him, dragging against the spot inside her that leaves her breathless and panting for more and she’s afraid it’ll never be enough. He rests a hand over the bulge in her stomach, over the shape of him, and the pressure makes her gush around his twitching cock.

“Please…” She whimpers, vision hazy around the edges. She isn’t sure what she’s begging for, but he seems to understand. He presses a kiss to her lips as her pounding heart fills the silent air, hands coming up to scratch at his back and cry his name, his cock pulsing and-

Hot and warm, he spills inside her with a strangled cry. She's almost afraid he'll never stop, filling her until she’s sure she can't hold anymore. Watching his face twist in pleasure as his hips still, gripping her waist to the point she’ll see marks in the morning, she whimpers and pulls him in for another bruising kiss. He plunges into her mouth like a starving man and she greedily matches his fervor, stroking his sides, pressing her palms against his chest, and running her fingers through his hair.

Her belly feels warm, full of his come, and his gaze darkens as he strokes the swell of flesh below her navel before flicking back up to her face. Trailing wisps of coherent thought dissolve into the recesses of her brain as his softening length begins to stiffen again, a soft growl slipping out of his mouth as his body jerks forward and he slides easily back inside. She chokes on a sound, the feeling lighting her up all over again as she struggles to accommodate him at full strength. She turns to look at the clock, registering the digital numbers turning to three am- they’d been at it for almost two hours.

“When you say you won’t leave until I’m satisfied… is that something you’ll just know? Or do I have to tell you?” He looks at her as he gently rolls his hips and her breath hitches as his tip brushes against her cervix.

“The tattoo on your neck will break,” He explains through his teeth, hands running over her body to gently squeeze her breasts and she moans softly as he rolls into her again.

“Is it still there?” She mumbles, wishing she could see into the mirror, but it’s behind him. He nods, dropping to his elbows to mouth at it, presumably. She floods his ears with delicate sighs, fingers splaying over his ribs as she traces his sides, eyes fluttering shut at the beautiful way his mouth moves-

“Ahh!” She yelps when he yanks her up off the mattress and pulls her into his arms, carried in the air. Her legs wind around him on instinct, clinging to his shoulders to not fall as he carries her into the living room. As she glances around the space, for some strange reason she feels off- almost as if a spell has been broken. Here he is, in another room of her apartment, and the strangeness she feels is entirely ridiculous. But he’s real, he’s real and standing in front of her tiny kitchen bar, eyes boring into her own, mischievous smile painted over his face. She traces his lips with her forefinger, smirk reflecting his, and he’s draping her over the counter to have her again.

She loses count of how many times he does- in the kitchen, over the couch, against the door. He shows no signs of tiring, cock hard and always pumping her full. She can’t remember a moment where she isn’t tumbling over the edge, thoughts useless, head empty as his red eyes sparkle in the dark, intent on burrowing into her chest.

There’s a brief period where she’s under the stream from the shower, unsure how she got there and still cradled in his arms. Her mind is weak like trailing threads, too distracted by the almost numbing tingles spreading through her body as she smiles at him. He’s still fully sheathed inside her- she’s almost certain he hasn't pulled out since they left the bedroom- and his impossibly strong arms rest below the swell of her ass as he presses her against the shower wall and kisses her, water mixing on their tongues.

“Is the mark still there?” She whispers, vaguely curious as the hot water flushes her body a light pink. He pulls away, eyes hazy and clouded over with pleasure, before lifting her hips and pulling her back down onto his cock.

“Still… there…” He huffs, brows drawn down in concentration. “I may not be able to keep up, soon.” She giggles, holding tight as he finishes their shower and brings her back to bed. Why he’d even bothered trying to clean them up, she isn’t sure.

On her hands and knees she takes him, and when her arms begin to tire she lies on her stomach, cheek against the mattress while his hands hold her hips up and he groans and fills her again. She shivers as his feverish hands stroke over her thighs, down her back, and to her scalp, caressing her hair softly. Her eyes flutter shut as he rocks them back and forth, the tenderness of his actions making her stutter out a long, breathless sigh.

Hazily she registers him lying her on her side, still joined, strong grip on the back of her knee as he lightly draws another orgasm out of her, fingers deftly working at her clit until she comes with a broken sob and milks him for what she considers the rest of what he’s got. As he pants into her ear the horizon turns a faint purple beyond her window and she collapses against his chest, pressing kisses to the underside of his jaw.

While they catch their breath, she feels her skin chill and an almost imperceptible pressure vanish from around her neck. Her fingers come up to touch her throat, groaning at the exhaustion weighing her limbs down and the sudden ache spreading over every muscle. He strokes her stomach, peering down at her, and she can see that the band is gone through her reflection in his eyes, her arms and legs finally clear of it.

“Oh no, it’s over?” She mumbles listlessly, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyelids as she starts to come back to herself. A light chuckle from beside her draws her out of the odd feelings of disappointment and longing as she gazes up at him, early morning sun passing through his hair to turn it bright and golden. He looks more like an angel than any devil she’s ever pictured.

“You’re satisfied,” He smiles, faint and soft. It makes her heart twist uncomfortably as he reaches down and finally slips out of her. A flush burns her cheeks at the slickness that drips down and pools between her legs over the sheets.

“Hmm,” She crosses her arms over her chest, pouting to the ceiling and leveling a hateful glare over the vent that she’d previously latched on to when she needed to ground herself. “Doesn’t feel like it.” He covers her vision, looking pleased with himself, and she feels a pang of sadness knowing he’ll have to leave.

“My contract’s fulfilled, Ofelia.” She nods, patting his arm, and when he moves from behind her to stand in her bedroom, gloriously naked and back to her, she admires him like he’s a distant statue up high on a pedestal. Out of reach.

“Umm… do I say ‘It’s been fun!’ or ‘Thank you!’?” She asks, wincing as he turns to look at her over his shoulder. His amused smile makes her feel less awkward, and she jolts in surprise when he stoops down to press a kiss to her lips.

“It’s been fun, thank you,” He grins, all sharp teeth and cocky glint in his eyes. She stares, then smiles softly as he rises to his full height, and those elusive wings that had vanished before stretch out behind him to cover the length of her room. The next time she blinks, he’s gone, and she looks around the room in alarm before stilling.

It’s silent as death.

She lies back, staring back up at that vent, every part of her arching and sore, far too stiff to think about moving let alone changing her sheets. She closes her eyes, fierce loneliness prodding at her chest.

***

“Earth plane’s portal is ringing again,” The droning voice of Raphael calls out over the tops of the rows of desks, his tone growing more tired by the hour. No one answers, scrolls and papers flying about as the demons sitting behind their quills carry on cataloging and documenting contracts and summons.

“Did you not hear me?” Raphael sounds more on edge and Astarion flicks his tail in amusement, glancing across the desk at his chattiest coworker.

“Think Haarlep’s still booked?” Karlach grins, jotting something on her scroll before she flicks it behind her right shoulder and it hits a lowly imp in the head.

“Must be. Wonder if he’ll call me again,” Astarion sighs, idly flicking the quill pen in his hand around his fingers. He remembers his outing and smirks. He wouldn’t mind if it were her again. If only he could be so lucky.

“Astarion!”

“There it is- good luck, soldier,” Karlach whispers before grabbing her beverage to dart for the breakroom.

“Yes, sir?” Astarion sagely dips his head in a formal bow as he watches Raphael massage his temples.

“Please cover for Haarlep again,”

“Of course, sir.” Filling in for an incubus isn’t the job he’d thought he’d be doing while slaving away for an archdevil, but its excellent overtime and exceptional pay convince him fill out the request sheet every once in a while. When he steps through the portal he’s met with familiar darkened windows and the scent of vanilla, votives burning on every shelf and surface.

“Hope you weren’t busy?” He turns to see her standing in the middle of her little summoning circle, far too overdressed for his tastes, and smile bright and shining in the dim room.

“Ofelia,” He smirks, catching the spellbook when she tosses it at him.

“It’s already bookmarked, at least…” She walks closer, brown eyes flashing playfully as her long dark hair falls over her shoulder. “That’s if I read the fine print correctly.” He glances at the page, hellish heart flaring with warmth at the infernal word for binding. He grins.

“Cheeky pup,”

#eternally delighted to know i am partially responsible for inspiring this masterpiece 😈#sweet jesus someone fetch me my fainting couch #this left me unwell in the best possible way #i need y'all to stop whatever you're doing and read this immediately #fic recs #friend fic

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xenasaur · 1 month ago

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maid. fetch me my fainting couch

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acesofspadess · 2 months ago

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Christmas Dare 🎄

12 Days of Mix-mas // Day 6

a/n: halfway there!!!! you guys have truly been showing your support for this special !! love you all !!

warnings: threesome, detailed- but not detailed smut !!!, oral (m receiving), making out, curse words, anal,

summary: During a holiday trip Lando and Max compete to see who can win over the reader’s attention, leading to so much more....

The chalet buzzed with holiday cheer. Laughter, music, and the occasional clink of glasses filled the air as the group of friends gathered around the fire. Outside, snow fell in thick flakes, blanketing the mountain in pristine white. You sipped your mulled wine, savoring the warmth it brought against the chill from your short foray outdoors earlier.

Lando and Max had been at it all evening, their playful rivalry turning into a full-blown competition as soon as you arrived. Whether it was offering to fetch you another drink, competing for space beside you on the couch, or showing off ridiculous holiday-themed party tricks, neither seemed willing to back down.

“You have to admit,” Lando said, sliding into the seat beside you with a boyish grin, “my snowman was leagues better than Max’s. Mine even had a scarf.”

“It also collapsed within five minutes,” Max shot back from across the room, his Dutch accent rolling smoothly off his tongue. He stood leaning against the mantle, his arms crossed, looking unfairly handsome in a fitted sweater that hugged his frame. “Clearly a metaphor for your reliability.”

Lando clutched his chest dramatically. “Wow, that’s rich coming from someone whose snowman looked like it was run over by a snowplow.”

“Boys, boys,” you interrupted, trying to suppress your smile. “Let’s agree neither of you will have a career in snow sculpting.”

Max smirked, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent a warm flush creeping up your neck. “I have other talents I’d rather show off anyway.”

“Oh, come on,” Lando cut in, leaning closer so you could catch the faint scent of his cologne. “You’re not going to let him win that easily, are you? I’ve been at your beck and call all night.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “And here I thought you two were just being nice.”

“Nice?” Max repeated, pushing off the mantle and stepping closer. His voice dropped slightly, a playful challenge lacing his tone. “I don’t think either of us were aiming for ‘nice’, schatje.”

Lando’s grin widened, and he slid an arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your collarbone. “He’s trying too hard. I think you’d appreciate someone who doesn’t need to show off.”

“Show off?” Max countered, his eyebrow quirking. “Says the guy who’s practically glued to her side.”

The air between the three of you shifted, the teasing banter taking on a sharper, more charged edge. You knew exactly what they were doing, and you couldn’t help but enjoy it. Letting your gaze flick between them, you tilted your head slightly, feigning innocence.

“Is this what you two have been scheming all night?” you asked, your tone light but laced with just enough challenge to stoke the fire.

Max’s lips curved into a wicked smile. “Maybe. But tell me you haven’t enjoyed it.”

You leaned back into the couch, crossing one leg over the other deliberately, watching as their eyes tracked the movement. “Oh, I’ve enjoyed it,” you said, letting the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “But that doesn’t mean either of you are winning.”

Lando leaned closer, his grin taking on a cocky edge. “Not yet, maybe.”

Max stepped even closer, his hand resting on the arm of the couch, effectively boxing you in. “Maybe she doesn’t have to choose,” he said, his voice smooth and deliberate.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you quickly masked it with a teasing smile. “That’s a bold assumption.”

“Call it a calculated risk,” Max replied, his dark eyes locked on yours below him. His confidence was intoxicating, but you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand just yet.

“And what makes you think I’d go along with it?” you challenged, tilting your chin up slightly.

Lando’s fingers brushed against your collarbone again, this time with more intent. “Because you haven’t told us to stop.”

Your lips curved into a smirk, and you let the tension hang for a moment before replying. “Maybe I just like watching you two try so hard.”

Max chuckled, low and rough, as he leaned in closer. “Oh, you like to watch, do you?”

You met his gaze evenly, the spark of amusement in your eyes giving way to something deeper. “Only when it’s worth my time.”

Lando laughed, the sound warm and rich as he pressed closer on your other side. “Guess we’ll just have to prove we are, then.”

The tension between the three of you crackled like the fire behind Max, and you let out a soft hum, considering them both for a moment. “Alright,” you said, your voice dripping with playful authority. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Max wasted no time leaning down, his hand sliding to cup your cheek as he kissed you, firm and commanding. His lips moved against yours with precision, his dominance evident in every movement. Lando, not to be outdone, trailed his fingers along your arm, his touch teasing as his lips found the curve of your neck.

“You’re something else,” Lando murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

You let out a soft laugh, your fingers tangling in Max’s hair as you pulled back slightly. “You’re both going to have to work harder than that.”

Max smirked, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Oh, we intend to.”

Lando’s hands slipped to your waist, his grip firm but reverent as he pulled you closer. “You’re not making this easy for us, are you baby?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you replied, your voice laced with challenge.

Lando made the first move after that, his hand sliding up to cradle your face as his lips captured yours in a kiss that was firm, commanding, and deliberate. His fingers brushed along your jaw, the faint roughness of his touch sparking a jolt of electricity through your body. Max, not one to be left behind, sat down and pressed against your other side, his lips trailing heatedly along the curve of your neck. The sensation of his breath against your skin sent a shiver racing down your spine.

“Is this enough to impress you, now?” Lando murmured against your lips, his voice dripping with cocky assurance.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your own lips curving into a smirk. “You’re getting there,” you teased, your tone laced with challenge.

Max chuckled, his hands slipping to your waist and gripping firmly, pulling you closer. “Careful, Lan. She’s got standards.”

“Good,” Lan retorted smoothly, his dark eyes gleaming with intent. “I’d be disappointed otherwise.”

You let out a low laugh, tangling your fingers in Lando’s hair and tugging lightly, relishing the way his confident demeanor faltered for just a moment. Max, emboldened, took advantage of the shift, turning your head toward him and capturing your lips in a kiss that was every bit as heated as Lando’s. Where Lando’s kiss was playful and insistent, his teeth grazing your lower lip just enough to make you gasp, Max had been calculated.

“You like watching us fight over you, don’t you?” Max whispered against your mouth, his voice thick with amusement and desire.

You leaned back slightly, your gaze flicking between the two of them. “Oh, I more than like it,” you admitted, your tone dripping with satisfaction. “But I think it’s time you two stop competing and start working together.”

Max raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a wicked smile. “Is that what you want?”

“That,” you said, trailing a finger along Max’s collarbone, “depends on how well you behave.”

Lando’s laughter was low and husky as his hands gripped your hips tighter. “Oh, we can behave… when it counts.”

Their dynamic shifted seamlessly as they turned their focus entirely on you, their movements perfectly in sync as they catered to your every tease and challenge. Lando’s kisses became deeper, his hands exploring with a confidence that left no question about his intent. Max’s touches were no less purposeful, his lips trailing down the line of your throat as his hands pressed against the curve of your back, pulling you into him.

At one point, the tension between the three of you boiled over into something neither of them could resist. Lando, emboldened by your smirk, leaned over and kissed Max, the unexpected sight sending a thrill through you. The kiss was heated, a clash of their rivalry and mutual respect, their shared determination to give as much as they took. You watched, mesmerized, as Max’s hand tangled in Lando’s curls, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened.

When they finally broke apart, both turned their attention back to you, their gazes dark with a shared hunger. “Impressed yet?” Max asked, his voice low and velvety.

You tilted your head, feigning consideration. “Maybe,” you said with a teasing smile.

What followed was a symphony of touches, kisses, and whispered praises, their hands and lips working in tandem to ensure you were the center of their world. Max was the first to all but rip your sweater off your body, coming face to face with your bare chest. “Mijn god, schatje.” He groaned. Lando took no time in bringing his mouth down to one of your nipples, making you moan softly and run a hand through his curls.

“I think we should move this to the bed. Want to feel all of you.” You said breathlessly as Max kissed your neck, and his hand played with breast Lando wasn’t sucking bruises into it.

You were sure, despite your teasing, these men would be the death of you. At one point you were on your back, Max between your legs, thrusting into you at a relentless pace, while you moaned and sucked on Lando’s dick, who would go from pornagraphic moans to making out with Max above you.

Another point had you on your knees, sucking Max’s dick with the help of one hand, the other being held by Lando who was fucking into you from behind, surely bruising your ass where he slapped and gripped roughly.

The last point was a lot more intimate. “The things you do to us, baby.” Lando said, kissing up your back as you all laid together, thinking you were done. You laid against Max’s body, sweat sticking you together. “Wanted this -you both- for a long time.” Max sighed while his fingers played in Max’s hair. “I don’t think we’re ever coming back from this.” You said softly. “I don’t think any of us want to.” Lando said cupping your neck and pulling you into another kiss. You moaned softly and could feel Max start to get hard again. Lando pulled away from you to kiss Max, a sight that would always melt your insides.

Max’s free hand held your waist, squeezing lightly as if telling you to straddle him again, which you happily did. He gasped into Lando’s mouth who’s eyes rolled when he saw the way you two were connected. You held your hand out to him which he gladly took and he kneed behind you, in between Max’s thighs. He kissed your neck softly, as you reached for his dick. “Baby…” he breathed in sharply, looking down to see you placing him between your ass. “Can’t make love without you.” You said softly as Max sat up to give him more room.

The moment Lando slipped in the two were setting a pace that had you seeing stars. Both of them were kissing down your body, then wherever they could reach on the others. Many counts of ‘I love you’s’ being shared between breathy moans. Your head was thrown back on Lando’s shoulders as you moaned loudly, your body squeezing around them as you came to an all time high.

By the time the three of you finally collapsed back onto the bed, your body hummed with satisfaction, your breathing still uneven. Max’s hand rested possessively on your thigh, while Lando’s fingers drew lazy patterns on your belly.

“So,” Lando said, his voice light and teasing as he leaned his head back against the cushion, “who won?”

You laughed, your head falling back as you glanced between them. “You’re really going to ask that?”

Max’s grip on your thigh tightened slightly as he smirked. “I think we all did.”

Lando rolled his eyes, but his smile softened as he glanced at you. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, feeling thoroughly spoiled and entirely content as the snow continued to fall outside, blanketing the world in silence while the warmth of their attention lingered long after.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x black!reader #lando norris fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris smut #max verstappen x reader smut #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x black!reader #norstappen x reader #norstappen #max verstappen x lando norris

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goldfades · 2 months ago

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could we get a fluffy dad joe fic where both reader and hayes are sick and joes trying to care of them both💕

joe could tell the second he walked in the door that something was off. the house was unusually quiet, no tiny footsteps running to meet him, no soft hum of your voice coming from the kitchen or living room. instead, he was met with the faint sound of coughing and the sight of a pile of tissues abandoned on the coffee table.

he found you first, curled up on the couch under a blanket that looked far too heavy for the relatively mild day. your face was flushed, your hair messy, and you barely managed a tired smile when you saw him.

“hey,” you croaked, your voice hoarse.

“hey,” he said softly, concern immediately taking over as he dropped his bag and crouched beside you. he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning at the warmth he felt there. “you’re burning up.”

“thanks, dr. burrow,” you joked weakly, sniffling as you reached for another tissue. “hayes is down for a nap, but he’s got it worse than me.”

joe’s frown deepened, his heart twisting. “why didn’t you call me? i could’ve come home earlier.”

“you’ve got enough to deal with,” you said, waving him off, though it lacked your usual energy. “we’re fine. just a bug.”

but joe wasn’t having it. he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead despite your protests. “you’re my family. nothing’s more important than taking care of you two.”

before you could argue, the sound of hayes stirring over the baby monitor pulled both your attention. joe was up in an instant, already heading toward his room.

when he came back, hayes was nestled against his chest, his tiny body wrapped in one of his favorite blankets. his little face was pale, his nose red, and his normally bright eyes were glassy with fever. joe’s heart broke a little more.

“hey, buddy,” he said softly, sitting down beside you on the couch with hayes in his lap. the little boy whimpered, burrowing against his dad’s chest. “you feeling crummy too?”

hayes let out a tired, pitiful little “yeah,” and joe kissed the top of his head.

“okay,” joe said, his voice low and calm, the same tone he used to call plays on the field. “here’s what we’re gonna do. you,” he said, nodding at you, “are staying right here and resting. i’ll get you some tea or soup or whatever you need.”

“joe, you don’t—”

“i do,” he interrupted, giving you a firm look. then he glanced down at hayes. “and you, little man, are gonna stay with me so mommy can take a break.”

despite feeling awful, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of joe juggling both of you so effortlessly. he moved around the house with hayes in one arm, heating up soup, fetching medicine, and making sure you had everything you needed.

at one point, he managed to coax a small giggle out of hayes with a silly voice, and you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were to have him.

later that evening, after hayes had finally fallen asleep in joe’s arms, you leaned your head against his shoulder, still wrapped in your blanket. “thank you,” you murmured, your voice soft.

“for what?” he asked, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

“for being... you,” you said, too tired to put it into better words but knowing he’d understand.

joe smiled, his arm tightening around you as he held you both close. “always,” he said. “you two are my whole world.”

and even though you felt like absolute crap, in that moment, you couldn’t have felt more loved.

masterlist!!!

#joe burrow #joe burrow bengals #joe shiesty #cincinnati bengals #joeyb #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x oc #sweet on you ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

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whore-ibly-hot · 5 months ago

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How does Mr Crinch react when y/n wants to sleep with him bc y/n can’t get comfortable enough to fall asleep?

(I love your boarding school series and I can’t wait for more❤️)

Knocking on Mr. Crinch's door isn't how you expected to spend your evening, but... you just didn't feel comfortable alone in your room. Harrison was out tonight, he had a game, and you hate sleeping in the dorm room after all that's happened and his happening with the guys at the school.

You don't particularly like the strict Latin teacher, but you know under his watch nothing bad is going to happen, and he's also the only person you know who'd be up this late, his light is on still, seeping through the crack under his door.

"Enter." A cold voice calls out, and you slowly push into the office. The mahogany walled room smells of ink and parchment. You swallow harshly and try to look down at your slippers as he gazes up from his page, a hint of suprise.

"Well, the academy's most popular problem child. Why've you come to my office this late, confessing another scheme or truancy?" He asks. He's always been suspicious of you, especially because he sees how Evan tracks you and you fool around with Pez and Tyler. His information comes from Carter, and it's not flattering.

"I couldn't sleep." You blurt out, then cringe at how it sounded, like a child with a nightmare. "I'm worry, I mean, I can't-" you try to explain. "Harrison, he's out, and he's my roommate and I just can't, I can't-"

He sighs and drops down his pen, rolling his eyes and glancing away up at you. He pushes back some of his dark locks. "Quit your whimpering, I'm trying to practice the calligraphy sheets for the next lesson." He motions to the fainting couch beside his office. You look confused, and he rolls his eyes again. "Go. Lay down, I'll fetch you a blanket and pillow in a moment to keep you comfortable."

You're suprised at how dismissive yet willing his is to allow you to stay here. You nod, and lay against the couch. After a few minutes of listening to pen on parchment, he goes to fetch a blanket and pillow, and soon he's laid out comfortably. You snuggle down, but his hand remains on your hip over the blanket. "Is this better?" He asks, voice caring and eyes softer than usual. You nod, unsure what to say.

"If you ever... ever feel one of these-" he pauses. "Boys," he spits. "Is mistreating you, you will tell me. You will tell me and it will be dealt with. I give you my word."

You look up, and the intensity in his eyes worries you, but you just smile as best you can. "Thank you, sir." You say, and he slides his hand up to push your cheek to the pillow. "Rest." He asserts, and as he returns to his desk you're in such a haze of sleep, you don't see the way he dims the lights and shields his desk candle from view of your sleeping form.

#ask me stuff #yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #x reader #drabble #yandere boarding school #yandere faculty #oc Crinch

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st4rfckerz · 4 months ago

Text

October 3rd - Spanking

I’m Yours (dbf!james)

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mdni 18+, spanking, James is kinda mean

James had just finished a long day of work, his hands slightly stained with grease and his body aching from bending over engines all day. He stepped out of his old worn out car, a faint cloud of exhaust following him. He took a deep drag from his cigarette, the nicotine giving him the much-needed boost to his system.

He decided to drive over to your house to enjoy a cold beer and some company with your father, his best friend. He parked his car in front of your house, the engine of his old, rusty Chevy rumbling to a stop. He climbed out, his tall frame looming over the car, and took one last drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing brightly before he flicked it to the ground, stomping it out with the toe of his worn-out work boot.

As he approached the door, his eyes scanned the surroundings. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow over everything. The neighborhood was quiet, with only the occasional bark of a dog or the hum of a distant car to break the silence. He could already hear the faint sound of a football game on the TV, a familiar and comforting sound to him. He knocked on the door, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The door creaked open, revealing you standing there, a surprise to James, who had been expecting to see your father. James's smile widened, and his eyes raked over your body, taking in the outfit you had chosen to wear.

“Well, if it ain't the princess herself," he said, amusement lacing his voice. “Is your dad not home, or did he send you out to fetch his beer?”

You rolled your eyes, not falling for his joke, and replied, “Nope, he had a feeling you'd come over, so he went to get more beers.” You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head to one side in mock suspicion. “You always make him run out of beer, you know that, right?”

James chuckled, a low, rumbling sound in his chest. “I don't believe that for a second.” he said, walking past you into the living room. “Your old man's just a lightweight. Always has been.” He dropped down onto the worn-out couch, making it creak under his weight, and leaned back, stretching his arms out along the back of the sofa.

You sat down next to him on the couch, your body close enough to feel the heat radiating from his. “Well, we have some time before he gets back,” James remarked, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Without warning, he leaned in, his lips parting as he prepared to capture yours in a kiss. You tensed, unsure of how to react, but you managed to place a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly.

“No, James I can’t.” you shake your head. “I’m going to a friend's house later.” He cocked an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with curiosity and a hint of something darker.

James's eyes widened, and he sat up a little straighter, genuinely surprised. “A friend’s house?” he asked, his gaze raking over you once more. “Who is this friend?”

“He’s just a friend. You don’t know him.” you explain.

James snorted, unconvinced. “Right,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what are you going to be doing with this friend?” You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “Nothing, James. I'm just going to hang out with him, like I do with all my friends.”

James's eyes darkened, and he leaned in closer to you, his voice taking on a stern, almost fatherly tone. “You're falling for a trap,” he said, his jaw set in a firm line. “I've been around the block a few times, and I know what I'm talking about. You're too young and dumb to be messing around with boys like that.”

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle but firm. “I know what's best for you, sweetheart. And it's not some kid trying to get into your pants.”

You pulled away from him, indignant at his claim. “No,” you said firmly. “I can make my own decisions, James. You can't tell me what to do.”

James's eyebrows furrowed, and he sat up straight, his hand dropping from your hair. "What did you just say to me?" he demanded, his voice rising in volume. You hesitated, nerves fluttering in your stomach. You hadn't expected him to react so strongly.

“Come here,” James growled, his voice harsh and commanding. Without giving you a chance to react, he grabbed you by the waist and yanked you over his lap, your body landing with a thud, your face turning an even deeper shade of red.

“You don't fucking talk to me like that,” he said, his hand moved swiftly, pulling down your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, leaving your ass bare and exposed. He rubbed his hand over one cheek, the roughness of his palm contrasting with the smoothness of your skin.

“You need to learn some respect, you hear me?” he murmured, his voice low and threatening. His hand came down hard, the sound of the slap echoing through the room as he spanked your ass cheek, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake.

You yelped, your hands automatically flying to cover your reddening ass. But before you could even register the pain, James's hand came down again, this time on the other cheek. The slap was followed by another sharp yelp, your body jerking involuntarily at the sudden, unexpected punishment.

As the spanking continued, you couldn't help but feel a strange, foreign sensation stirring within you. A warmth began to spread between your legs, and your breath hitched in your throat. The pain was intermingled with arousal, a confusing cocktail of emotions that left you feeling both humiliated and excited.

Between the sharp strikes of his hand, James's voice rumbled in your ear, his words thick with authority. “You don't need anyone else. You got me, and I'll always be here for you,”

“Remember how dumb you got on my cock the last time I was over? You're mine, and you'll always come back to me.”

The reminder sent a shiver down your spine, the memory of the last time he had been over flooding your mind. The way he had filled you up, the way he had taken control, and how you had begged for more. It was intoxicating, the power he held over you.

You whimpered, the pain and arousal becoming too much to bear. “Please, stop, James,” you begged, your voice shaking. He pulled you up from his lap, your shorts and underwear still around your ankles. His hand wrapped around your jaw, gripping it firmly.

“You're mine, say it,” he growled, his eyes burning into yours.

“I’m yours James.” you say meekly, your eyes shiny and glossed over. With that, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a searing, possessive kiss. Your body trembled in response, both from the lingering sting of the spanking and from the heat of his touch.

James’s hand moved down, easily finding your wetness. He smirked, his fingers gliding through your folds, teasing you mercilessly. “Looks like you're enjoying this, aren't you, baby?” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with lust.

Just as he was about to push a finger inside you, the sound of an engine outside caught his attention. He stilled, his eyes widening as he recognized the sound of your father's car.

Quickly, James pulled his hand away from you, helping you to pull up your shorts and underwear. “Get up,” he commanded, his voice firm. “Your dad's home.” You nodded, your cheeks still flushed, and stood up, smoothing out your clothes and pulling up your shorts and underwear.

The front door swung open, and your father walked in, a wide grin on his face. “Anyone hungry?” he called out cheerfully, holding up two boxes of pizza.

He didn't seem to notice the tension in the room, or the fact that you were both still flushed and disheveled. He set the pizzas down on the coffee table and walks into the kitchen to fetch some plates.

As your father turned to walk into the kitchen, James took the opportunity to grab your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “You're lucky.” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and threatening. He released you and followed your father into the kitchen, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself as you listened to the sound of the two men laughing and joking in the other room.

Maybe next time.

#nai writes ୨୧ #kinktober 24 #dbf!james #james kelly smut #james kelly x reader #james kelly #james kelly x you #hayden christensen #st4rfckerz

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aventurineswife · 2 months ago

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Hii can i request kafka with a funny and comedic reader? like jessica and roger rabbit type of dynamic, kafka swooning after reader because they makes her laugh... no pressure tho, thank you!

“They make me laugh”

Summary: Kafka finds herself inexplicably drawn to you—a comedic, chaotic whirlwind of absurdity. Despite her usual composed demeanor, your relentless antics and quick wit break through her cool exterior, leaving her laughing and swooning in equal measure.

Tags: Kafka x Reader, Humor/Comedy, Fluff, Light Romance, Opposites Attract, Femme Fatale x Chaotic Fool, Slow Burn(?).

Kafka sat in the dimly lit corner of the Stellaron Hunters' hideout, one hand swirling the crimson liquid in her glass, the other flipping through Elio's latest vision notes. A quiet, calculated serenity surrounded her—until you waltzed in.

“Kafkaaaa!” you hollered, your voice ringing off the walls like a loose bell. “You gotta see this! I invented the world’s first sentient whoopee cushion! It talks back! Look, look!”

Before she could respond, you plopped the deflated contraption onto a nearby chair. The device let out a dignified harrumph before stating, in a monotone, “You’ve made poor choices, sitting here.”

A snort escaped Kafka’s lips. The wine glass paused mid-air, a hint of mirth breaking her perpetually composed demeanor. She eyed you with that dangerously alluring gaze of hers, one brow slightly raised.

“Let me guess,” she said, voice dripping with silky amusement, “you’ve already tested it on Bladie?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said proudly. “It told him, ‘For someone so sharp, you’re a little flat.’ He chased me for three corridors, Kafka. Three. Worth it.”

Her laugh was soft but genuine, and the corner of her lips quirked up into a smirk. Most people feared Kafka for her cool, calculating nature. But you? You seemed entirely immune to her enigmatic aura, wielding absurdity like a weapon. She found it... fascinating.

“Do you ever take a break from being ridiculous?” she teased, leaning forward, chin resting delicately on her hand.

“Do you ever take a break from looking so good in spider patterns?” you shot back without missing a beat.

That caught her off guard. Her laugh came unbidden this time, smooth and melodic, a sound so rare you couldn’t help but grin wider. “You’re impossible,” she murmured, shaking her head.

“Impossibly funny, impossibly charming,” you listed with mock seriousness, counting on your fingers. “And impossibly good at finding all your weak spots.”

Kafka raised a perfectly shaped brow. “My weak spots? Careful, dear. I don’t take kindly to threats.”

“Not a threat!” you said, holding your hands up in mock surrender. “I just happen to know you melt like a popsicle in a furnace every time I say something stupid. Admit it. You’re smitten.”

She leaned back in her seat, fingers steepled. Her smirk grew more dangerous, yet her gaze softened in a way that only you seemed to elicit. “And if I am?” she asked, voice velvet-smooth.

You blinked, taken aback. Then, with a dramatic swoon that could’ve put any opera diva to shame, you staggered. “She admits it! Oh, woe is me, the dazzling lady with the wine hair is utterly captivated! Someone fetch me a fainting couch!”

Kafka rolled her eyes, though her laughter rang out once more, unrestrained and genuinely amused. You had the uncanny ability to crack through her carefully constructed façade, and she found herself enjoying it far more than she should.

“Come here, you absolute fool,” she said, tugging on your arm until you stumbled closer. She pressed a quick, teasing kiss to your cheek, leaving you momentarily stunned.

“See?” she murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I do like my comedy sharp.”

You grinned like a Cheshire cat. “And I like my mysterious femme fatales giggling at my antics. Guess we’re a perfect match, huh?”

Kafka only hummed, that dangerous smirk never leaving her face. “Oh, you have no idea.”

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #kafka honkai star rail #kafka hsr #hsr kafka #kafka #fluff #humor/comedy #light romance #opposites attract #femme fatale x chaotic fool #slow burn

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scyllas-revenge · 1 year ago

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Oooh thanks for tagging me! I watched the show and read all the books and fell out of love with the series pretty hard, but tbh if more of it was written like this maybe I’d have stuck around more 😉 this was some excellent pining and I am fanning my face with my hand

never the same river

Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire Pairing: Ned Stark x Catelyn Tully Stark Tropes: developing relationship, arranged marriage, fluff and spice, mutual pining, idiots in love, dirty talk Rating: T+ Words: 2k Summary: Ned learns Catelyn used to be fond of swimming. He has no idea what he's doing.

for @nedcatweek day 6 prompt: "I want you to feel at home" [AO3]

“It is beautiful here,” Catelyn said, looking around. Ned observed her as she dismounted and gave the reins away to one of their host, before they were left alone. The weather had reached this sweet spot on the cusp of high season, when it was warm, but not hot enough to become unbearable. Late though and tentative, summer had indeed come to the North. The ice floe on the river had long melted, the flowers were yet in bloom, but the trees had for some weeks now been clad in the most verdant foliage, making one forget that the Winter was, indeed, coming. (Because Winter was coming. Tomorrow, or in twenty years, it was always coming, Ned knew.)

The idea to come here had arisen in Ned’s mind during the cold months. He had to bear Catelyn’s nostalgic looks on Harvest Day, then her barely visible flinches and chills in response to the cold drafts in the castle during winter. Though she might hide it well, Catelyn did not feel at home.

“What are we to do now, my Lord?” Catelyn asked and looked at him. Would that he could find his words easily. Alas, he’d never been skillful in conveying his meaning. Why had he brought her here? What were they going to do now? He wasn’t sure himself.

He wanted her to feel more at home. The Sept that he’d commissioned for her two winters prior hadn’t been enough, if her wistful sighing and withering glances were anything to judge by. Ned blamed himself. If only he’d made her feel more welcome. He had tried to keep her company whenever he could, but he wasn’t sure if his quiet, brooding presence had been any help, or if it had only made things worse. (Because he’d been brooding, Gods help him. He knew he’d been.)

With the first vestiges of spring, Ser Brynden Tully had come to Winterfell, bearing greetings and letters from Lord Hoster. The Blackfish had stayed in their Castle a fortnight and spent most of those mornings observing little Robb at play, and most of the evenings trying to get Ned to drink with him. Ned had very good reasons to not over indulge (what with the secrets he carried), but he would indulge a little, on occasion. And so he had played the gracious host, indulged a little in the cups with his guest, and had used the opportunity to pry subtly about Catelyn’s life back in Riverrun. One of the memories shared by Brynden had struck him as a particularly happy one. It was that of young Catelyn and Lysa going swimming in the Red Fork River in the summer. So, Catelyn liked river swimming… This seemed to Ned an extravagant passtime, but what did he know? He was from the North; he did not understand southern customs, and therein lay the whole problem.

“I thought we could go swimming in the river,” he said simply.

“... Swimming, my Lord?” she asked. Had he announced he was going to re-paint the walls of Castle Black bright crimson, her eyes could not have gotten any rounder. Taking her swimming had been his plan, ridiculous though it might now seem. The swift currents of White Knife, sure to be carrying the chill of northern glaciers even now, did not seem particularly enticing, he had to admit.

He regarded his Lady. She looked beautiful when surprised. To be precise, she looked beautiful at all times and all moods, to Ned at least. He would admire her quietly when she would glide through Winterfell, swishing about in her gowns, which she took to tailoring according to Northern fashion, but which retained the elegance and lightness of the worldly South. She would brighten his dour abode with her mere presence, but here, among nature, with the warm sun glinting in her teal eyes and setting her hair aflame? Catelyn Tully took his breath away.

“Perhaps the hot springs near your castle would serve better for that purpose, my Lord?” Catelyn asked, when he prolonged his silence. Her surprise had turned into visible amusement. “You know you can call for me whenever you want for company in the pools…”

Ned felt his ears turn red at the memory of their last time at the hot springs. He had noticed the cold did not serve his Lady well, and proposed they visit the caverns in the Godswoods, where the temperature in the pools was particularly high, so that she could warm herself and forget about the snowstorms that had been plaguing Winterfell. Catelyn had accepted this offer, but, instead of an endeavor towards the betterment of her health, she thought it primarily an effort to introduce some variety to their marital duties. And so their hot spring experience quickly turned… steamy.

Not that their bedroom needed any more steam. Ned would visit Catelyn’s chambers regularly, although never without her prior invitation. And she would invite him often. Every other night, in fact, whenever she was not through her menses. Ned knew this was what Maester Luwin advised her in order to quicken again, as Catelyn was bent on giving him another son.

Thing was, Catelyn had already given him one perfect son. Whenever Ned even looked at little Robb, he could not help but wonder. He had never thought he would ever get to be this happy. Not after… After… More still, she had given him another child, a sweet little babe, a daughter. Sansa favored her mother, and that made her beautiful to Ned’s eyes. Still, his Lady wanted to bear him another son, and it didn’t seem likely she’d give up before achieving that goal.

He could not help but feel guilty. Was it because of Jon? Was it that because Jon existed, she felt like one legitimate son wasn’t enough? Oh, he did feel guilty, after Jon, unworthy of those constant invitations to her bedchamber of wonders. For all his guilt, he’d never suggested that one heir was enough, though. He wondered if he maybe should, for her peace of mind, but then their nighttime activities would likely cease, and he just couldn't give her up. Wretched as he was, he came to rely completely on the reprieve that her touch offered. He would not show it, but most days he lusted after her, he awaited her signal impatiently like a man starved. It took a lot of effort on his part to not lose himself utterly with her, to not bite her soft, creamy skin, to not yank her lush red hair, not to take her a little too eagerly. She seemed so delicate, so refined. Ladylike.

He had earned the nickname the Quiet Wolf, because in his boyhood he’d been perceived as calm, in contrast to Brandon. Ah, Brandon… How his brother would now mock him, if he could see him so… lovesick. Ned had always been the sensible one. The reserved one. But not with Catelyn, he wasn’t. Not after having tasted her. Sometimes he thought one look of her eyes alone could make the wolfblood in him awaken. The wolfblood that he had used to doubt he had a drop of, but that he could now feel cursing through his veins whenever she lay under him. He restrained himself, fearful of offending her and losing her good graces, losing the privilege of sharing her bed, that he had nearly forfeited when he had brought Jon in. So he tried to remain calm during their couplings. Calm, gentle. Attentive to her whims and needs. He made sure she had her pleasure too, because Gods knew he had his aplenty with her.

“What is the true purpose of this outing, my Lord?” Catelyn asked, snapping him out of his musings. She was getting impatient, Ned knew. No wonder - they had spent the entire morning on horseback to get here, on his urging, and he’d kept her in the dark as to their destination. “Why have you brought me here?”

Ned sighed.

“Ser Brynden has told me you were fond of the river as a child,” he said. He could not bear to look her in the eye, so he instead looked at the murmuring crystalline waters. “I wanted you to feel more at home…”

Catelyn’s expression darkened visibly, at that. This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say, though for the love of the Old Gods, Ned could not figure out why.

“You do not get it, do you?” she grumbled, and he could tell she was bitter. He said nothing, as was his way, and let her speak. “I’ve lived here for four summers already! Winterfell is my home! Would that you saw it. Would that my welcome here was warmer.”

“What do you mean?” Ned was alarmed by her outburst. “Have I not seen to your comforts, my Lady? Has anyone in the Castle mistreated you?” Whoever had wronged her, Ned would not let them get away with it.

Catelyn sighed and shook her head, dejected.

“The truth is, I do find the North so very… cold,” she said quietly. “And not for all the snow and winter winds… I know I am unlike the women around here. Not as… hardy. The glances I sometimes get... I am a foreigner in everyone’s eyes. And, worse still, in your eyes…” She looked so sad that Ned’s very heart clenched painfully. “Sometimes I feel like I shall never belong.”

“No,” Ned rushed to appease her. He took her hand in his, hoping she’d turn around, hoping she’d look at him. “Of course your place is here! You are my Lady. My wife!”

“That I am…” She uttered a mirthless chuckle. “And you are ever so dutiful a husband. So stern, so focused, when you come to my chambers.”

“Have I been amiss with my attentions towards you?” Her comment, offhand as it was, stung deeply. He prided himself on doing his very best whenever they lay together.

“I do not deny that you are.. attentive,” she whispered. “Yet I always wonder if you even want to be there. With me.” The vulnerability in her voice rendered him near speechless. He hated himself for making her feel this way, for letting it come to this.

“Wherever else would I be?” he asked, genuinely bewildered by the very concept.

“You tell me,” said Catelyn and finally regaled him with a look. Though her words were quiet and her face ablush, thunder and lightning danced in her eyes.

Ned was frustrated. He was well aware of his many social shortcomings, and of how much Jon’s presence had soured things between them, but he had been trying his very best to be a good husband to her. He’d made many attempts at conveying how much she meant to him, but all of his efforts had failed, it seemed. He felt his temper rise, for the first time perhaps where she was involved.

“Then what would you have me do, my Lady?” he asked, not trying overly hard to smooth his speech this time. “Would you want me to grab you by your beautiful, downright sinful hair and take you roughly against the wall? Would that convince you of my commitment?”

This was, shockingly, somehow the right thing to say. Catelyn’s entire face brightened momentarily and it made something in Ned’s stomach stir in anticipation.

“You would want me like that?” she asked, breathless. Contrary to Ned’s every prediction, she did not look appalled nor frightened by the idea of them coupling roughly.

“I have… thought about it,” he admitted carefully. Her expression softened further, so he allowed himself to reveal even more. “In truth, I have been thinking of little else for many months now…”

“And you like my hair?” she asked.

Ned did like her hair, Gods help him, and he liked how her voice vibrated with excitement. He’d suddenly got many more ideas on how to make his wife feel more at home…

This is my contribution to NedCat Week 2024. Thrilled to be part of it and in awe of all the awesome writers making it happen <3

[my fanfiction masterpost]

#where is my fainting couch #fetch me my smelling salts at once

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highbabyofthenightcourt · 1 month ago

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A little winter solstice story:

Feyre

The townhouse was quiet now, the remnants of the Winter Solstice celebration still lingering in the air—pine and cinnamon, the faint scent of wine. Rhys was upstairs, still sprawled on the bed we’d just shared, his hair mussed, his lips still swollen from our kisses. But passion made for thirst, and I’d slipped out, intending to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen.

As I padded down the stairs, the faint hum of voices drifted to me. I froze, instantly recognizing them: Elain’s soft, melodic tone and Azriel’s deep, gravelly murmur.

Curious—and unable to help myself—I summoned a spell to silence my movements and crept closer. Behind the archway of the kitchen, I peered into the dimly lit living room.

They sat on the couch, angled toward one another, illuminated only by a few faelights drifting lazily above. Elain had her legs tucked beneath her, a knitted blanket draped over her lap. Azriel was leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, his shadows fainter than usual around him. A mug of something steamed in his scarred hands.

“…So you’re saying,” Elain whispered, a small, incredulous smile tugging at her lips, “that you’ve never baked anything before? Not even once?”

Azriel shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Baking isn’t exactly useful in espionage.”

Elain laughed softly, the sound warm and light, and my chest ached at how seldom I heard her laugh like that these days. Azriel’s gaze remained steady on her, his lips curving just slightly more at her amusement.

“Well,” Elain said, her voice turning playful, “maybe you should try. You could bake for the next family dinner. I’d even let you use my kitchen.”

Azriel raised a brow, his tone dry. “You’re assuming I wouldn’t burn it down.”

Her laugh came again, wrinkling the corners of her big brown eyes. “You wouldn’t. You’re too careful for that.”

Something flickered in his expression at her words, a tenderness that had my heart softening. For a while, he just sat there, tilting his head slightly as if studying her.

Whether Elain noticed the intensity with which the shadowsinger was looking at her, I didn’t know. She spoke playfully, “You had three servings of food tonight. It made all the hours spent making it worthwhile.”

The words reminded me of a soup in a cabin. The thought brought a warmth to my chest. Elain would likely make her mate an entire feast if she were to accept the bond. Though considering who her mate was, I was not sure if that would ever happen.

Azriel’s expression seemed to brighten in a way i only saw around my sister. He said, in an attempt to lighten the moment, “I still don’t understand how you managed to bake all those biscuits without burning a single one. Cassian once tried and nearly set the house on fire.”

Elain giggled, a sound so light it seemed to make the room warmer. “Because Cassian doesn’t follow instructions. He thinks he can scare anything into submission—even pastries.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Azriel’s lips twitched. “You’re not wrong. He did try to fight the whisk last time.”

Elain’s laugh carried around the room, her eyes sparkling. “He would. But maybe I’ll teach him.”

There was a beat of silence before my sister added, “I don’t understand how you do it,” a smile tugging at her lips. “You make it look so easy.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed slightly. “Do what?”

“Disappear,” she said, her voice soft but teasing. “One moment, you’re here, and the next, you’re just… gone. It’s maddening.”

Azriel chuckled, low and warm. “It’s a skill which took me centuries to perfect.”

Elain leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “And here I thought you were just avoiding me.”

Azriel’s hand stilled on his mug. For a moment, he said nothing. But then he looked at her, and there was something so raw, so unguarded in his expression that it made my breath catch.

“I would never avoid you, Elain.” His voice was quiet, steady. “If I’ve been distant, it’s because…I thought it was what you needed from me.”

Elain’s lips parted slightly, as if the words surprised her. Then she said—soft, genuine: “What I need is for everyone to stop assuming they know what’s best for me.”

Azriel blinked, and for the first time in a long while, I saw him falter. “I did not mean to—”

“I know,” she interrupted, her tone lightening. “But for someone so skilled at reading people, you sometimes horrendously misread me.”

Azriel’s lips twitched, a hint of a smile breaking through. “Is that so?”

“It is,” Elain said firmly, though the glimmer in her eyes betrayed her amusement. “But don’t worry. I’m patient.”

Azriel shook his head, the faintest laugh escaping him. “Thank you.”

Elain answered in mock pride, “You’re most welcome.”

Azriel remained quiet, his gaze on her, as if he was memorizing every detail of her face. His shadows had retreated into nothingness. They had always seemed to fade away when he was around her. As if, in answer to her light.

Watching the two of them, my heart warmed. They deserved this—the chance to simply exist in each other’s company without the weight of expectations or fear of judgment.

Azriel leaned back, his gaze still fixed on Elain. “Did you enjoy tonight?”

Elain’s smile grew. “I did. Though Cassian bursting into song was definitely unexpected.”

Azriel snorted. “You would think in the centuries he has been alive, he would have grown tolerant to drinking.”

“And Mor,” Elain added, laughter bubbling in her voice, “trying to convince Amren to wear a sweater. I thought Amren might actually bite her.”

Azriel chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

It was rare to see Elain so at ease, so… happy. And Azriel—my quiet, brooding friend—looked lighter too, as if her presence had chased away some of the darkness that clung to him.

I lingered a moment longer, then turned away, letting them have their privacy. As I climbed back up the stairs, the warmth of the firelight and the sound of their laughter stayed with me.

For tonight, at least, they had found a moment of their own. And I was glad for it.

Happy solstice, guys <3

#acotar #sjm #winter solstice #acofas #azriel #elain archeron #elriel #pro elriel #azriel and elain #acotar feyre #feyre archeron

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writerfromshikahr · 30 days ago

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Written for my Grey Warden Rook, who is always hungry. Generic Rook name. No race mentioned (though my Rook is a Dwarf). Grey Warden Faction is pointed too. Pre relationship Lucanis & Rook.

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Late Night Snack - Lucanis X Rook

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Lucanis opened his door with a measured sigh, stepping out of the small pantry room he called his quarters. His sharp hearing had picked up the commotion in the kitchen, a faint scraping of cupboard doors, the dull thud of something being set on the counter, and what sounded suspiciously like a stifled curse.

In the kitchen, he found Rook at the counter, surrounded by a chaotic assortment of jars and containers.

“What,” Lucanis began, his voice low and edged with irritation, “are you doing?”

Rook flinched slightly, glancing over her shoulder with a sheepish grin. “Uh… looking for a snack? Did I wake you—stupid question—you don’t sleep!”

He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as they flicked over the displaced items. “You needed to remove every jar from the cupboard?”

“Well, where else would I look? It’s not like I keep a secret stash of food under my couch,” she shot back, holding up a jar of preserves like a trophy. Her stomach rumbled audibly, betraying her further.

“You’re making a mess.”

“I’m making progress,” she countered.

Lucanis exhaled sharply, stepping forward and plucking the jar from her hands, setting it firmly back in its place. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the table.

Rook blinked. “What?”

“Sit,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll make you something.”

She hesitated but eventually dropped into a chair, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. “You don’t have to, you know. I can fend for myself.”

“Clearly,” he muttered, retrieving a pan from its hook.

Rook watched as he moved around the kitchen with his usual precision, his movements fluid and deliberate. The faint scent of oil heating in the pan filled the room as he fetched a loaf of bread and began slicing it.

“You’re very particular, you know that?” Rook remarked, propping her chin on her hand.

Lucanis glanced at her briefly, one brow arching. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No, it’s impressive. You’ve got this whole kitchen organized like a battlefield. Everything in its place, ready to go.”

He didn’t dignify that with a response, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The pan sizzled as he placed slices of bread into it, the rich smell of frying dough filling the air. Rook’s stomach growled again, louder this time.

Lucanis flipped the bread with a practised motion, his gaze focused. “Is it always like this?” he asked after a moment. “The hunger, I mean. I didn’t realise Wardens dealt with that.”

“Pretty much,” Rook admitted. “It doesn’t matter how much you eat during the day. By the time night rolls around, you’re starving again. It has something to do with the taint in our blood, but they never really explained it.”

He took the golden-brown slices from the pan and placed them on a plate. Carrying it to the table, he set it down in front of her with quiet finality. “Here.”

Rook’s grin widened as she reached for the bread, taking a bite and groaning in satisfaction. “Maker’s breath, this is delicious.”

“Try not to choke,” he replied dryly, returning to the counter to tidy the mess she’d made.

Rook swallowed and smirked. “You know, for all your grumpiness, you’re surprisingly good at this hospitality thing.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“Okay, poor choice of words. Reserved, then. Hard to get to know.”

“You want to get to know me?” Lucanis asked, his tone unreadable. He didn’t wait for a reply, methodically returning the jars and containers to their proper places.

“Of course,” Rook said, her voice softening. “Not just you, but everyone. Especially the people I rely on. If we’re going to do this—really do this—we need to trust each other. It’s early days, but trust and friendship are going to matter.” She gestured to the plate in front of her. “But, after this? You’re officially my favorite.”

Lucanis leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. “I suppose you’re right… about trust.”

“Not always,” Rook replied, taking another bite. “But sometimes.”

“Coffee?”

Rook winced. “Ah, this is awkward. I do drink coffee, but I prefer tea.” She added with a cheeky grin, “This is where you stab me, right?”

Lucanis smiled faintly. “You’re safe… tonight.”

Rook arched a brow, impressed. Humor? From the assassin? First time for everything. She watched as he retrieved the tea Bellara liked and began preparing a cup.

“You know how to make tea?” she asked.

“Bellara likes tea. And now that I know you do, too, I’ll make sure we never run out. Sugar?”

“Three, please.”

“Three?” Lucanis raised an eyebrow slightly.

“It was one of the few things we had plenty of at Weisshaupt. Have you ever tried bread and butter with sugar on top? It’s the stuff of gods.”

Lucanis tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “No, I haven’t.”

Rook gestured to the loaf. “Well then, bring it over. And the butter. And the sugar. You need to experience this.”

The requested items were retrieved and placed in front of her. Rook carefully sliced a piece of bread, spread it with butter, and sprinkled a generous layer of sugar on top.

“It’s the cheapest dessert around,” she said, handing him a slice. “But it hits the right spots.”

Lucanis took a cautious bite, his expression neutral at first. The sugariness hit immediately, balanced perfectly by the richness of the butter. “It’s… good,” he admitted.

“You know, Lucanis, some things don’t need to be elaborate to matter. Simple food, even at this hour, can make the moment.”

He studied her for a long moment, her easy grin and bright eyes concealing a depth of strength he now saw more clearly. Without a word, he pulled out the chair across from her and sat, taking another bite of the sugary bread. He let the sweetness linger on his tongue before finally speaking.

“I think it's the company, not the food,” he said quietly, surprising even himself.

Rook didn’t respond immediately, didn’t trust herself to without fumbling over something. Instead, she wrapped her hands around the tea he’d made for her, the warmth spreading through her palms like a quiet reassurance.

“The best company,” she said softly, her voice light but carrying enough weight to leave an impression.

#lucanis dellamorte #rookanis #lucanis x rook #fem rook #rook #rookanisfanfic #grey warden

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songbirdseung · 1 year ago

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sleeping / en- maknae line 🤍

sunoo

Heeseung tiptoed into the living room, careful not to make a sound. The dim glow of the table lamp cast a warm, golden hue across the room, revealing the peaceful scene before him. There, sprawled across the couch, was Sunoo fast asleep. What caught Heeseung off guard, however, was the sight of you curled up beside him.

You had been visiting for the weekend, and it seemed like a late-night movie marathon had taken its toll on both of you. Sunoo was now snuggled up with you, his head resting on your shoulder and a content smile playing on his lips while he's sleeping. As if he was having a dream with you in it.

Heeseung couldn't help but smile at the sight. Sunoo and you had been dating for a while now, and the relationship was a heartwarming blend of laughter and affection. As Heeseung approached the couch, he noticed you were still awake, your eyes fixed on Sunoo's sleeping face, fingers gently brushing through his hair.

"Hey," Heeseung whispered, causing you to jump slightly.

"Oh, Heeseung," You whispered back, eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and relief. "You scared me. I thought you were asleep."

Heeseung shook his head, chuckling softly. "Nah, I was just in the kitchen. I wanted to grab a snack, but I didn't want to disturb you two. You guys look adorable together."

You blushed, your cheeks taking on a faint rosy hue. "Thank you," you murmured. "I can't help but watch him sleep sometimes. He's just so peaceful."

Heeseung nodded in understanding. "I get it. He's a bundle of energy during the day, but he looks like an angel when he's asleep."

Jungwon

After a long and exhausting day at school, you finally return home, feeling drained both physically and mentally. The weight of your backpack feels heavier with each step you take, and all you can think about is getting into your comfortable pajamas and starting your nightly routine.

As you quietly enter your bedroom, you're startled by an unexpected sight. There, peacefully asleep on your bed, lies your boyfriend Jungwon. His usually vibrant and energetic self is now peacefully nestled under your cozy blankets, looking completely worn out. You can't help but smile at the surprise.

You tiptoe closer to your bed, careful not to wake him. Gently, you reach out and tuck the stray strands of hair away from his peaceful face, admiring the way his eyelashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks.

With the utmost care, you pull the covers up to his shoulders, making sure he's snug and comfortable. A small, contented sigh escapes his lips, and you can't help but find it endearing.

You decide to go the extra mile to make sure he's comfortable. You fetch a glass of water and place it on your bedside table, just within his reach when he wakes up.

Before you leave him to rest, you lean down and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Sleep well, my love," you whisper, your voice full of tenderness. Jungwon shifts slightly but remains blissfully asleep.

With that, you finally go about your nightly routine. You change into your comfiest pajamas, wash your face, and start winding down from the busy day. You can't help but glance back at Jungwon from time to time, feeling grateful for his surprise visit.

Ni-Ki

"Y/N, are you sure I can't sleep on the couch?" Ni-ki asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Ni-ki, you don't have to sleep on the couch. I promise the bed is big enough for both of us. Besides, I'd rather have you here with me."

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The idea of sharing a bed made his heart race, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. "Are you sure it's okay? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

You reached out and gently took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Ni-ki, it's more than okay. I want you here with me. We can sleep comfortably together."

Ni-ki finally relented, a grateful smile crossing his face. "Alright, if you're sure."

You led him to your bedroom, where the soft glow of a bedside lamp filled the room with a warm and cozy ambiance. The two of you changed into your pajamas and climbed into bed. As you settled under the covers, Ni-ki lay down hesitantly on his side of the bed.

But as the minutes passed, you noticed him shifting uncomfortably. You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his adorable shyness. "Ni-ki," you whispered, "you don't have to be so far away. Come closer if you want."

His eyes met yours, and he seemed relieved by your words. Slowly, he edged closer until he was lying beside you, his arm tentatively draping over your waist. You could feel the tension in his body start to ease as he got used to the idea of sharing the bed.

As you both settled in, the warmth of his presence next to you was comforting. You turned to face him, and he met your gaze with a soft, affectionate smile. Without a word, he snuggled closer, his head resting on your shoulder, and you wrapped your arm around him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #engene #enha #enhypen x reader #jungwon #sunoo #ni_ki #riki #yang jungwon #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #enha maknae line #niki #niki x reader

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bylightofdawn · 2 years ago

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I LOVE these fan bookbinding posts. It gives me such a boost in serotonin every time I see it. And the fic they are referencing is just...chef kiss one of my fav Kylux fics on top of it. So literally could not have chosen a better series to immortalize.

And the custom box on top of it? -swoon- This is actual book porn for me.

Here's a big project I've been sitting on! All That You Love Will Be Carried Away, by our very own @ceruleancynic! And a box, naturally, building boxes for books continues to bring me immense joy.

What we have here is not just the main fic, or the main series, but also All That You Love (The High Hope Remix) alt pov short fic by byzantienne, and, a detail that I was really excited to include: the initial comment exchange between these two fantastic authors of m the first fic in the series. Did I title that second little book 'all that you meet cute will be carried away' as a silly placeholder? Did I then get super attached and refuse to change it? Uh-

Hell yeah, I refuse to be dignified about any of my favorite hobbies!

But the real secret delight here was that I've been looking for the right opportunity to get weird with boxes. Peller boxes, hinged slipcases, yes, fine, but those are like the box version of my sixfold book adventure. I'm still shooting for some parallel to my fourteenfold book, I'm looking for a way to go completely off the rails. I have some ideas, but it's hard, finding a good large chonk and a small number of equally sized texts, which made a unified and complete set, AND which excited me to work with. That might sound unnecessarily picky, but I swear, there was a good reason for it!

Oh baby. Oh baby.

This worked out so perfectly. I wanted a large book at the center of things. And I wanted two small books oriented in a different direction, placed end to end, at its edge. And I got it! I didn't want to commit too early, and it would have been heartbreaking to fail, but once the big book was together, and the preliminary typesets for the two little books were almost identical? I just HAD to try.

Tumblr is already silencing me and refusing to let me attach as many images as I want, so for this post, let's talk about the main book a little! Cute little quarto bricks are my new FAVORITE favorite thing, as I'm sure you can guess from my archives, and this one was a dream to put together.

It had to be a three-quarter leather binding, naturally. And I was sitting on some gorgeous iridescent maroon paper for endpapers (no photos in this set, it refuses to photograph well, as is the way of pretty iridescent things). I spent some time agonizing over my other material, and whether to use two different marbled patterns, but I went with it in the end. The vibes were distinct enough but the palettes overlapped enough that I really enjoyed the effect. And with the northcott art of marbling fabrics (my beloved) I was able to use lines of symmetry to get some nice fussy cuts for the big book and the little ones. All of the books have leather endbands, matching the spine. And the big book has the big thick faux raised bands I tried out with my last svsss! I don't have enough pictures to show off all the book interiors, but I used this cover plate for the series and main fics within it.

And then, like I showed you above, I put it all together. Marbled paper and silk moire for covering the box, a lot of very tense wrangling of glued-up paper in very small spaces, and, at one point, carefully lowering glue-covered pieces of moire bookcloth down these little pits (walls already covered) using that tab in the front like the world's awkwardest elevator shaft. But the EFFECT!

I'm very, very pleased with myself, and delighted to have delivered this book to its new home. I've been absolutely VIBRATING with a desire to share, so! I can't be contained by tumblr's image limit. Hold on for two seconds (approx.) and I'm going to reblog this post with some wip pictures and more detail about how I worked this thing out and assembled this box and modified my initial design on the fly

#I am constantly agog at how talented people in this fandom are #this is just amazing #i love it so much #someone fetch me my victorian fainting couch so I can swoon appropriately #fandom bookbinding #bookbinding

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kentofic · 11 months ago

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The orange peel theory - gn!reader x Itadori Yuuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Nanami Kento, & Gojo Satoru

You learn about the orange peel theory online and decide to covertly try it out on your man.

pure fluff. slight suggestiveness for satoru. yuuji & megumi in their 20s in my mind’s eye. inspo pics n videos linked here n there. is this trend already ancient? yes. has this been done before? of course. but that has yet to stop me. enjoy!!

🍊 Yuuji

“Hey baby,” you start, watching your boyfriend from across the kitchen table, “I kind of feel like an orange.”

Yuuji puts his chin in his hand as his eyebrows scrunch together with thought before saying, “Y’know, now that you mention it, I kind of feel like a tomato.”

You blink at him, processing, before bursting into laughter, doubling over with the force of it.

“What?? What’s so funny?” Yuuji demands, surprised and a little offended.

“I meant like, I want an orange, babe—like I feel like eating an orange,” you giggle, wiping tears of mirth from your eyes. Yuuji perks up at that.

“Oh, we’ve got oranges! Lemme get one for you,” he says brightly, leaping up to fetch one. He swipes one from the fruit bowl and presents it proudly to you, arm outstretched.

“What if I said I don’t feel like peeling it?” you grin, tilting your head at him.

Without missing a beat, Yuuji says, “Then I’ll peel it for you! I can cut it, juice it—I can even sauté it. Whatever you want, baby.” Yuuji tosses the fruit up in the air and catches it with ease before flashing you a bright smile.

“Aw, thank you, baby,” you laugh. You pull him in by the waist so you can press sweet kisses all over his cheeks.

Yuuji happily peels the orange for you as you watch him with a smile. He manages to get the peel off in one long, continuous piece, which he dangles for you proudly. He splits the orange in half and gives you the larger half. You eat the fruit together, getting sticky sweet juice all over your fingers.

🍊 Megumi

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” you prompt, peering at Megumi from the other side of the couch. You try not to look like you’re up to something.

Megumi glances up from his phone to look at you. You have the vague sense that he’s clocked you, but if he has, his expression betrays nothing. “What?”

“An orange.” You blink at him expectantly.

“….Okay,” he says after a beat, “Then have an orange. You bought some yesterday, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you sigh dramatically, letting your eyes close as you sag against the cushions of the couch. “But I don’t feel like peeling one.”

You wait for Megumi’s response as you feign laziness, your eyes still shut. When nothing comes, you crack an eye open to find he’s not even looking at you, just scrolling through his phone again. You scoff loudly to let him know you’re very offended at being ignored.

“If you want something, you gotta use your words,” he says without looking up.

You stick your bottom lip out in a pout. “You’re no fun, ‘gumi.”

He glances over at you, one eyebrow raised, his expression otherwise unchanging.

“…Fine,” you relent, softening your pout to a beseeching look. “Will you peel an orange for me, please?”

He looks at you a second longer before exhaling and pushing himself off the couch. “Was that so hard?” he hums, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

You stick your tongue out at him, and he retaliates by ruffling your hair as he passes you on his way to the kitchen. He grabs an orange from the fridge before plopping back down next to you.

“Thanks, ‘gumi,” you grin, feeling pleased with yourself. You snuggle up against him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“So spoiled,” he mumbles as he starts peeling, his ears turning a faint shade of pink.

Megumi carefully pulls the peel away from the fruit, saving the bottom piece for the orange to rest on. He pulls out the fibrous middle and gently parts the segments before handing it to you to eat. He watches silently as you enjoy your snack, and he lets you poke the occasional piece between his lips as repayment for his services.

🍊 Kento

“Honey, I’m hungry,” you hum, surreptitiously glancing over at your husband before looking back at your phone.

Kento looks up from his book and checks his watch with a flick of his wrist. “It’s only four, but I can start dinner now. I bought steak and potatoes yesterday. And I can toss together a quick salad too. How does that sound, sweetheart?” he offers, rising from his armchair and stretching his arms.

Damn, it sounds delicious. But you’re on a mission to get him to peel an orange, so you have to decline.

“I don’t know, I kind of want something lighter,” you hedge, trying not to give yourself away with your expression.

Kento raises an eyebrow at you as he leans against the armrest of his chair. He makes a soft, pensive sound as he thinks. “Then how about I go pick something up from the bakery down the street? I can get you a casse-croute or a pastry to tide you over until dinner.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile. Kento’s so sweet, you can’t help but feel delight fizz up in you, even if you’re trying to steer him in a different direction.

“I dunno, I think I just want, like, a snack,” you say, your voice wavering with the giggles you’re fighting to contain.

Kento’s expression shifts, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, and you know you’ve been caught. You flatten your lips into a line as you try to hold back your grin. He crosses his arms over his chest as a wry smile pulls at his lips.

“If you already know what you want to eat, why don’t you go ahead and tell me, my love. No need for games,” he says, his expression caught between fond and stern.

“…Can you peel me an orange?” you ask sheepishly, giving him an apologetic grin.

He lets out a soft sigh as he pushes off from the armrest. He approaches where you’re curled up on the couch and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Of course I can.”

Kento tests each orange in the fridge with a gentle squeeze to find the one that’s perfectly ripe. He cuts it into precise, even slices and brings it to you on a little plate. He returns to his book, but he watches you over the edge of the pages, a barely-there, satisfied smile on his lips as you enjoy the fruit.

🍊 Satoru

“Y’know what I’m craving right now?” you prompt, your eyes flitting over to Satoru lazing on the couch. He perks up immediately, a stupid grin spreading across his face.

“My di—”

“An orange,” you interrupt him, your expression deadpan. He pouts for a moment, lolling his head back against the cushions, but he brightens again as an idea strikes him. He leans over to rustle through a plastic bag full of convenience store snacks, and he emerges with a bright package of fruity candy.

“Here, I have some orange gummies! Don’t confuse them with the mango ones though,” he says, tossing it to you. You catch the package on instinct, but you shake your head as you set it down on the coffee table.

“I want a real orange, Satoru. Y’know, the fruit. With nutrients. I bought a couple yesterday.”

“Ah, I ate those already.”

You blink at him, your eyebrow twitching. Sensing your displeasure, Satoru throws his hands up in a placating gesture.

“In my defense, you didn’t tell me they were yours.”

“…Since when do you eat anything other than sweets?” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“They were sweet,” he says wistfully. Your grimace deepens, and he laughs.

“Relax, baby. I’ll replace them. I’m ordering some right now,” he says, tapping away at his phone as he places the delivery order.

Twenty minutes later, Satoru hops up to answer the door and returns with a paper bag. He drops two enormous, beautiful oranges into your lap, each one wrapped in delicate foam netting. The stickers on the fruit are black and gold, which you imagine signals their luxury quality. You turn an orange over in your hand, amazed.

“This is the fanciest orange I’ve ever seen. How much did this cost?”

“I dunno, I didn’t check. I just got the best looking ones,” Satoru says idly, tearing into a package of cookies he ordered for himself and popping one in his mouth.

“Well, thank you.” You extend the orange in his direction. “Will you peel it for me, ‘toru?”

Satoru grins and swallows the food in his mouth. “Sure. Anything for you, baby.” He dusts the crumbs from his hands and grabs the orange from you. “Plus, I wouldn’t want you tiring out those pretty little hands peeling fruit. Not when they can be put to much better use,” he says with an exaggerated wink. He bursts into laughter when you shove him.

Satoru pulls back the peel in a bizarre shape with five strange appendages. You eventually realize he’s made it into the vague shape of a man. It’s cute for a second, until he shimmies the fruit out while leaving the fibrous white middle dangling between the legs of the orange peel man. He laughs heartily at his attempt at a dick joke. You groan and snatch your orange back from him, and he immediately whines that he wants some.

a/n: i tricked you all with my smut and now present to you… fluff. i’m sorry i’ve misled you LOL. just needed to kick this outta my drafts. more smut is on the way <3 and as always, my ask is open for ideas/requests !!

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hunnitastic · 2 years ago

Text

🩹~Tend to your wound~🩹

||Wally Darling x GN!Reader||

(Work can also be found on my ao3. Art used for fanfic done by @/partycoffin )

[I'd be happy to take any requests as well! Shoot me an ask anytime]

~°.•☆*~`.°☆~*'•.`°~☆•.*,°`.'°☆~

It was a nice relaxing sunny day in the neighborhood. The sun was shining bright, the sky painted a beautiful sky blue, fluffy white clouds slowly drifting above. Your friends had invited you out to play at the park. You gladly accepted their invitation as you haven't left your house for the past couple of days. Surely it wouldn't hurt to get some sunlight and play with your friends right?

After walking around your house spending some time trying to find your favorite ball you use to play fetch with barnaby, this found it hiding underneath your couch. You grabbed it and brushed the dust off. you quickly ran outside and headed straight to the park. You were running so fast you didn't even notice that deep hole in the ground coming straight your way. And in the blink of an eye the tip of your foot dragged against the deep hole sending you to plummet straight to the ground. But before you could break for impact, a big pair of light blue fuzzy colored paws grabbed hold of your arms bringing you straight back to your feet.

"Whoa there (y/n)! There's no need to be in such a hurry. The park isn't that far buddy!" Barnaby chuckled and slapped your back. You grimaced at the sudden slap but smiled seeing the rest of your friends where already here but, your friend Wally Darling was missing from the group.

You wondered where he could be. It wasn't like him to be late for a get together...how odd.

You stared at the ground for a slight minute. A faint frown painted your face wondering if wally was to ever show up. But you have the whole day after all There! 'Just be patient (y/n). He probably had something important to do' you thought to yourself before shaking the negative thoughts out of your head as you and the rest of the gang proceeded to walk to the park together.

There was Julie with a picnic basket happily swinging back and forth in her hands as she skipped her way to the park. Finding the perfect spot near a field of flowers Julie began to set up the picnic. She layed out a large red and white checkered blanket and set out the plates, cups and forks. "Hey Julie do you need any help?" You asked as you plopped down on the grass setting your ball beside you. "Hi (y/n)! I sure could use some help thank you for asking! Could you please organize the plates and cups and math them with the correct color?" You nodded with a smile and did exactly as asked. You organized the colorful plates and cups with their respective matching colors. They even had the names of everyone from the neighborhood. You even had your own plate as well! And it was your favorite color too. 'Julie is such a good friend' you thought as you smiled sweetly, staring at the plate a little longer before setting it down.

You glanced over to look at the surprisingly large amount of food Julie had packed. Small sandwiches, gelatin for who you assume is for frank, (your favorite food/snack) oh boy you couldn't wait to dig in! Some apples for wally and a comedically large 3 tier cake. Its colorful frosting surely would catch anyone's attention. It was a bit odd but it was nice to look at. It looked yummy too.

After the 2 of you were done setting up the picnic you got up and grabbed your ball. "Hey barnaby! Wanna play some catch?" You hollered watching barnaby quickly run towards you at lightning speed. "You bet I do! You get any better at throwing? Last time we played you threw it so close it felt more like I was picking the ball that up you kept dropping. It was really boring." the dog joked grinning at the offended look on your face. "I was just tired that day!" You huffed and stomped your foot. "And just so you know I'm most definitely better at throwing things now! So you better get ready!" You huffed some more before taking a few steps back while you watched Barnaby take a few steps back as well. "Ok! HERE I GOOOOO!" you yelled as you threw the ball high into the air watching as it traveled in the sky.

Perhaps...you might have thrown it a little too far. It doesn't seem like barnaby could catch it in time. And it looks like the ball is headed right towards wallys house.

Oh you poor silly fool!

Closing your eyes shut and slapping your hands over your face you were prepared to gear the shattering of glass breaking from a window. But..there was no such sound. What happened? Did the ball fly over the house instead? Removing your hands and slowly opening your eyes you saw a familiar blue hair individual walking your way tossing a certian ball up and down in right hand while his other rested behind his back.

It was wally...

Your heart started to skip a beat, your face becoming flushed and hot, and your hands started to get sweaty.

Oh- did I forget to mention you had certian feelings for your kind dear neighbor wally? What was there to not like about this man? He was a kindly spoken gentlemen. Sure he could be a little empty headed at times but that's what you loved about him.

If only you had the courage to tell him how you really feel.

If...

O n ly...

You swallowed the saliva that gathered in your mouth and waved at wally as he aproched you. "Hello (y/n), looking for this?" He spoke in his usual calm soft voice. He held up the ball. You sheepishly nodded your head. Embarrassed at the fact you almost threw that ball straight into wallys house. "U-uh yes. Sorry about that-" you mumbled. Struggling to find the right words to say. Smiling, wally softly grabbed ahold of your hand and placed the ball in your palm and cupped his hand over yours. Looking straight into your eyes wally tilted his head to the side, his smile never leaving his face. "You should be more careful neighbor. It'd be a shame for you to lose your favorite ball." He whispered.

You wanted to say 'thank you wally, I'll be more careful next time!' But all the came out of your mouth was "...uh-uh." Wally chuckled and walked over to Julie before barnaby ran back towards you. Panting heavily, Hunching over wth his paws rested on his knees. "Geez (y/n) if I had known you throw that hard I would have suggested we play another game instead" you patted the dogs back and softly apologized. "Hey it's alright! You did prove me wrong though! You got a good arm (y/n)!" You grinned while proudly placing your hands on your hips. "Why thank you! Did you wanna take a break and eat with others?" Barnaby shook his head. "Nah! I've got so much energy after chasing the ball! Hey- why don't we play a game of tag?" Barnaby asked standing straight up after finally managing to catch his breath. "That sounds like a good ide-"

"TAG. YOU'RE IT"

Barnaby ran leaving you standing there like a baffled idiot. "Barnaby that's not fair!" You shouted as you proceeded to chase after him while the two of you laughed. The game went on for so long. You even managed to accidentally knock frank into a bush while he was inspecting a butterfly. "Opps! Sorry about that frank!" You quickly pulled frank out of the bush and helped brushed him off. "You best be careful when running around (y/n). You could hurt someone or even hurt yourself- uh?" before frank could scold anymore you had already run off after seeing barnaby coming straight towards you.

Circling around a tree you run as fast as you could to get barnaby off your tail but he was pretty fast considering how big he is. Using the rest of the energy you had left you bolted to the right towards the flower patch. Looking behind you already ended up gaining a couple feet between barnaby and yourself. You let out a breathy laugh. "HA TAKE THAT BARNABY! I'M THE FASTEST IN THE NEIGHBORHO- OOF-" without keeping your eyes in front of you you failed to see a large patch of dirt sitting right in front of your path. And barnaby was too far away to catch you this time.

You fell straight down, roughing up your knees in the process. You let out a low long groan as you laid there with your face buried in the dirt and pebbles. "(Y/N)!" You heard barnaby shout as you began to slowly sit yourself up. The burning and stinging sensation on your knees was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You bit down on your lip to keep the sobs from escaping your throat. The bubbling feeling in your throat grew as you stared at your bloody knees. You looked up seeing barnaby and the others running your direction. "(Y/n) are you okay?!" Julie asked kneeling down and slowly rubbed her hand up and down your back to help soothe you. "Y-yeah I'm fine. I wasn't p-paying attention" frank frowned and shook his head. "I told you you need to be careful when running around (y/n). You need to get home and tend to those cuts before they get infected." Before you could respond wally walked over, placing one arm behind your back and the other hooking under your legs. He held you up, carrying you close to his chest. "I'll take (y/n) back home." "Are you sure you don't need help?" Barnaby asked looking awfully concerned. Wally simply nodded and began to walk to the direction of his house.

Oh could you feel even more embarrassed? You just had to go and act like a fool and not pay attention! Now here you are, carried in wallys arms and cut up and trying you awful best to hold back your weeping sobs. It didn't take long to make it back to wallys house after the silent walk back.

Once walking inside wally carefully sat you down on the couch in his living room. "Wait right there. I'll be right back." You nodded watching wally walk towards the back. You let out a soft sigh staring down at your knees. "Way to make a fool of yourself infront of wally (y/n) you idiot. This day couldn't be anymore worse." you whispered to yourself cringing as you replied the moment you fell in your head. "Did you say something (y/n)?" Wally asked as he came back with a box of bandages, cotton balls and a bottle of hydroxide. You flinched not hearing him walk back in the living room. He sure is a quiet one isn't he?

"OH- UHM, n-no I didn't say anything...haha" you awkwardly spoke watching wally kneel down on the ground infront of you. You stared as he opened the brown colored bottle grabbing a cotton ball he carefully doused the soft fluffy white ball in the liquid. Gently, he grasped the back of your leg lifting your knee up. "This is going to sting a little bit ok? If it hurts too much just tell me to stop." You swallowed and nodded your head slowly bracing yourself for the pain. The closer wally moved the cottonball the more you tried your best to move your leg away. "Now, now (y/n). Remember what frank said? If we don't get this taken care of your cuts will get infected. And it will hurt alot more if you leave it the way it is. Do you really want that? Hmm?" Wally had a good point. You didn't want your cuts to get more worse. You shook your head. "Good. Just stay still. I'll be as gentle as I can". Wally spoke im a soft calming tone.

Your roughly gripped the couch seats hissing at the stinging sensation tingling as the wet ball lightly dabbed against your skin. The feeling spread through out your knee. It hurt alot and you wanted to tell wally to stop but you had to be strong and push through this. You felt more tears begin to well up in the corner of your eyes while you bit down on your bottom lip. 'It's almost over. Just one more knee and you're done (y/n)' you reassured yourself as wally moved to work on the next leg. "You're doing good. Just a couple more seconds" wally hummed cleaning up your wound on the other knee. After he was done wiping up your cut a lightly blew on the cut to make it dry faster. Your body shivered at the coolness against your throbbing skin. It was a nice feeling.

Really nice.

After making sure your cuts were dry wally placed a band-aid on each knee. "And there you go. All done~" he happily sung looking up at you. You still had your eyes closed shut. Your tears streaming down your red flushed cheeks. "Hmm..." wally sounded. "I heard from poppy about the best medicine one can receive when they're hurt. Do you know what that medicine is (y/n?)" He asked not looking away. You shook your head. Your lips trembling as you let out soft shakey whimpers. "The best medicine one can receive when they're not feeling good you see..." he paused. Moving his hand to softly grasp your calf while his other rested against the heel of your foot.

"Is a kiss."

Wally softly pressed a sweet kiss against your bandaged knee. Leaving his lips there for a few seconds before pressing another loving kiss to the other. You opened your eyes, face still flushed a bright red as you watched wally sweetly kiss your knee before lightly pressing his cheek against your skin. "Does that feel better?" He asked. You nodded and softly smiled. "Ahh there's that smile I like to see". Wally hummed, reaching up to wipe away the rest of your tears. His thumb brushing against your cheek. "I really do hate to see you so upset (y/n). It hurts my heart so much" he whispered staring into your eyes.

There was a short moment of silence. The 2 of you just stared at each other with soft expressions before wally spoke up again. "Please don't ever say you're an idiot. That's just not true. You're a lovely person." Your eyes widened. "So...you heard that?" You mumbled. He didn't respond. Just continued to stare at you with his usual smile and droopy eyes. "I think you're really neat (y/n). You bring so much light in any room you walk in." He cupped your cheek in his hand as he leaned forward bringing his hand to sotly pet the top of your head. "You're so good for me. Always helping our friends and making them smile. You're very very good." His smile grew wider when he watched your flustered reaction. You enjoyed the sudden praise and comfort. It was definitely something you needed.

Wally cupped both your cheeks this time forcing you to look up at him. You held in your breath as you stared into his eyes. His pupils seemed...more larger than they were a few seconds ago.

"....I really like you too."

You opened your mouth to speak but wally cut you off. "(Y/n) will you promise me you'll try to be a little more careful when you play with our friends?" You stayed silent for a minute before answering. "I- I promise to be more careful." Wally hummed letting go of your face and reached down and grabbed hold of your hands. Intertwining your fingers together. "Shall we go back to our friends now?" He asked helping you up off the couch. "Hehe, yes let us go back to our friends." You replied back in a soft voice.

And with that you both walked back to the park, hand in hand with smiles spread across your faces.

Maybe this day was going to go alright alright after all.

THE END.

|| This is the first fanfic I've written after a few years of not writing anything so I do apologize that I'm rather rusty. I hoped you enjoyed reading it tho! ||

#welcomehomearg #welcomehome #welcome home puppet show #welcomehomewally #welcome home julie #welcome home barnaby #welcome home frank #welcome home wally #wally darling #wally darling x reader #x Reader #self-insert #welcome home fanfic #welcome home fanfiction #reader is clumsy #reader is a bit of a cry baby

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