#lmao parts of this are so on the nose I feel the need to tag

[saintrosalyn]

BIRD DOG - JAILBIRD PART TWO

Part One

Description: Simon��s determined to retrieve his jailbird.

Word count: 4.5k

TW: Parolee! Reader (guys we’ve graduated to parole), stalking, reader is kept as vague as possible, sexual favors in exchange for money, groping, Ghost is a creep (graduated from perv lmao), p in v, oral (m! receiving), p in v, mention of breeding kink, creampie, possessiveness, dub-con, somewhat edited.

Notes: It’s finally done! This took longer than I anticipated since I deviated from the OG plan and was a bit of a stinker to write but it's done. I hope everyone enjoys it! I’ve absolutely loved reading all the comments, asks, and reblogs. Such positive feedback is what led me to posting part two honestly. I'm currently working on the last part of JB so expect that soon💖. Feedback is always appreciated but never expected. Let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy :)

Also I've never done a tag list before so apologies if it didn't work or I missed anyone😭. Please let me know if the link to part one doesn't work either, this is the first time I'm using Tumblr on my laptop I usually use my phone.

You got used to the slight tremor in your hands, the parting kiss alcoholism left with you, but the violent shaking as you attempted to click the lock of the hotel door closed was difficult for even you to handle. You longed to feel that familiar burn of self-destruction but the only place that would have you end up is back in prison. Parole violation. It was too soon to resort to such dramatic measures, instead you quietly paced your small room, double checking that you clicked the deadbolt shut, closing the curtains as tight as they could go, anything to try and soothe your rising anxiety.

Talking yourself away from the edge again and again until you could finally sit down on the stiff mattress. Every time you managed to calm your heart you blinked and saw that room again. You saw those pictures again.

He-Simon.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to take deep, slow, breaths. 

After sleeping together, after discovering the skeleton in his closet, you swallowed the bile in your throat and kissed his jaw. He made dinner which you smiled over and forced into your mouth, every bite downed with a sip of water. The two of you went to bed, your eyes darting to that door, now left open enough you could see a glimpse of his homemade wallpaper. He kept an arm draped over you and fell asleep. 

Then you left.

Barefoot, not knowing where your shoes had been placed in your need to-

Jesus Christ you had slept with the man.

You barely made it to the bathroom, puking mostly water and yellowed acid up. It made your eyes water and nose run, blowing it in a piece of toilet paper, flushing it down. There was little comfort to be found in the distance you put between you and him. 

Going on foot wasn’t the brightest idea, but risking stealing Simon’s car and having him call the cops on you was foolish even for you. That and you didn’t want the man any angrier at you than you expected he was going to be. You only got so far before you found yourself on the wrong side of town. You had never been in the area before, but you knew the type. Women posted on every corner, bars on the windows, broken glass and sticky residue staining the sidewalks. It didn’t take you long to find the kind of man you needed. Trading a handjob for a bus fare, a blowjob for a new pair of shoes, and a pitiful two minutes of dry thrusting for a hotel room. 

Back to your ways. Different city, different time, same person. A bird incapable of changing its tune.

You needed a real job. A record stood in your way of that, but surely there had to be something, anything, that would pay enough for you to keep a roof over your head without having to sell more of yourself. 

You needed a job, but you needed space more. As much as you could get. Immigration was out, no one wanted to host a felon, and you were limited to a certain area before your parole officer got testy with you. Fuck. A big cage, that’s what you were trapped in. One you could never get free from.

Your family. Your past. Your cell. Your city. Your whole fucking life, one cage after another. Freedom a concept rather than a reality. Simon could use it against you. He knew of your limits, hell, you fucking told him yourself over a phone call before you got released. Outlined every fucking sentence of where you could and couldn’t go. He knew all of it.

Taking another deep breath you forced your body to lie on the bed, you needed to calm down. You needed to think clearly and come up with a plan. Simon was still asleep in bed, he didn’t know where you were, you were fine. 

You were fine.

A good night’s sleep. That’s what you needed. Not likely with how wound tight you were. But you had to try. Anything to escape the panic squeezing your lungs.

___

It took four hours of staring blankly at a dark ceiling, on the edge of a panic attack the entire time, before your body gave in and let you sleep. It was light, but it was enough of a break in your consciousness. The sun was what woke you, shining on your eyes and causing you to squint. Your anxiety a gentle heart palpitation rather than the full blown panic it was last night, exhaustion dulling its edge. 

The first thing you did was go business to business looking for a place that was hiring. Most required a resume, those you didn’t even give a second glance (as they no doubt did background checks). It took all of the day before you found a shitty pub that only asked if you were old enough to drink. With a nod of your head an apron was shoved into your hands, and you were bussing for your first shift. 

The owner, a balding man who smelled like cigarettes and wore a sweat-stained wife beater, paid you cash. Enough that you were able to buy another night to cover your hotel room and not much else. You walked back to your temporary home, eyes darting to every tall man who crossed the street. For once, you were grateful Simon was such a large man. It would make him easier to spot in a crowd, the orange of a tiger’s fur stark against a green jungle.

When you returned back to your room, it was easy to explain the movement of your things. Hotels had housekeepers. You wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for your paranoid state. It wasn’t until you went to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grease and grime of the pub, that you noticed a small picture sitting face-down on the bathroom counter. Flipping it over revealed you. You, asleep in your shitty hotel bed, close-up, taken from inside. 

You were barely able to flip the toilet lid up before you lost your stomach contents. Vile burning the back of your throat was nothing in comparison to the panic that burned through your veins.

He was inside your hotel room. He was inside your hotel room last night with you. 

You barely managed to stand, legs shaking, leaving the bathroom you noticed other signs of his arrival. Dirty tracks that were much too large. The blinds wide-open even though you were sure you closed them before you went to sleep. A single dog tag resting underneath your pillow. It’s owner’s name mocking you.

Riley.

___

He left you more presents. Vestiges of him ever present in your life. It didn’t matter where you went, how many hotels you hopped, how many jobs you changed, he always found you. Truthfully, the both of you knew this song and dance could only go on for so long. You were low on cash and stuck orbiting around the same small area. Days bled into weeks bled into months. Fear gave way to anger. Anger that he wouldn’t leave you alone. Anger that he wouldn’t let you delude yourself into thinking you had found a safe space that he could not intrude on.

On your nth hotel, you decided you were staying. Simon be damned. He obviously had no intentions of killing you just yet, content in tormentation. That and there were only so many jobs willing to pay under-the-table. You needed to save up enough cash to prove that you had a steady place to live, a recommendation from your parole officer. This flightiness made the law suspicious at best and nervous at worst. 

You found your way back to the pub, who upgraded you to server. On the wrong side of town its patrons weren’t the best. But they tipped decent enough and if they got too handsy the owner always stepped in. A few pinches on the ass were worth a steady income. You’ve given a lot more of yourself for less.

Perhaps, that was your mistake, you got too comfortable with a wild animal. So sure that your exotic pet would not bite.

The first time you saw him, you thought it was a mistake. Despite his size Simon was able to go about your life as he pleased without you catching even a glimpse of him. Hell, you knew he could stalk you without you being aware of him at all (your prison stint was proof enough of that), he just chose not to. You shouldn’t have been surprised that his behavior would escalate. 

You were standing, dead on your feet after your shift working on three hours of sleep, waiting for the bus. And there he was. Across the street, large frame leaning against a wall, arms crossed. When you did a double glance, you were able to make out the tell-tale scars across his face. Then the bus came. It was a coin toss, boarding the bus. A part of you wanted to flee, figuring he could easily cross the street and board the same bus as you, but the alternative was worse. Let it pass and walk home alone. In the dark. With a predator at your heels. 

No.

Better to have people around you. Safety in numbers and all that.

The next day, he did it again. And again. And again. Each time coming closer and closer. Until one day you saw his large frame coming up the steps of the bus. You practically vibrated from anxiety in your seat, unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared straight ahead. The black blur of his jacket, the soft squeak of his boots as he moved closer and closer, until he took the seat right behind you.

You didn’t move. Frozen. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Fright.

Fright.

Fright. 

Until the bus moved and the decision was made for you. Only you couldn’t convince your muscles to move, stuck staring dead ahead. Willing the bus driving to glance in the mirror back at you. Willing the other passengers to notice how close the man behind you was sitting (close enough to feel his breath against your ear, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath). But this was the last bus and everyone was too tired to notice. A herd of diurnal prey vs a nocturnal predator. It was clear who had the advantage.

You missed your stop. And the one after that. It wasn’t until you felt a violent shake on your shoulder that you jolted out of your trance, eyes darting up… to the bus driver. 

“Las’ stop miss. Gotta’ get off.” His voice firm. How long had he been calling out to you?

Giving a jerky nod you looked behind you, but Simon was gone.

___

It didn't stop there. Not that you expected it would, but fucking forgive you for having a little hope in life. Simon took to following a few steps behind you wherever you went. Sitting behind you on the bus. Sitting in the back of the pub, nursing beer after beer. Sometimes he had another man with him. But mostly he was alone. His eyes never left you. For weeks it went on. For weeks you felt his constant presence. 

The presents never stopped either. Photos of you, gifts for you (lingerie and cigarettes, the same shade of nail polish he gave you while you were in prison), things of his. He never relented. You never shook that feeling of being watched. You never could get rid of that pit of anxiety in your stomach. Exhaustion was starting to settle heavy in your bones. Give up. Give in. Give yourself to him. 

The temptation was intense. You just wanted to be done with it all. Let him do what he wanted with you. At this point, even death would be better than another day of constant anxiety. (Pursuit predator exhausting his prey, closing in). 

And then he was gone.

His absence was glaringly obvious on the first day, enough so that you thought for sure that you were going to die soon. Simon had reached some kind of breaking point. But you didn’t. And you didn’t see Simon.

There were no presents left for you. No signs of his stalking. No evidence that he was ever in your life at all. It was such a sudden and stark change that if it weren’t for his dog tag you would have thought you dreamed the whole thing. But he was gone. 

A day passed.

Then another.

And another.

The knot in your stomach slowly unworked itself. The tension ever present in your shoulders finally loosened. Weeks passed by. Then months. A part of you still worried. In prison there were times where Simon would go silent for months, but he always came back. And he always made sure to make up for lost times. More gifts, more phone calls, longer visits. It seemed that your anxiety was slowly chipped away, yet it was also slowly building itself back up again. 

But Simon stayed gone. More importantly, a date had been set for you to become a truly free woman. No parole. No restrictions. A chance to leave the country. A chance to truly be free.

A chance to slip away from Simon.

___

When a police officer knocked on your door, you had to fight back the panic.

You haven’t done anything wrong. 

It wasn’t until you were sitting across from your lawyer did you truly began to realize the situation you were in. His words sounded so far away, so garbled. As if you were trapped underwater, in a fishbowl, letting the world happen around you as you tapped at the glass.

“...Do you understand the situation you’re in?...Enough drugs to get an intent to distribute…a passport…tickets to another country…”

How did you get here?

“Are you listening to me?”

You snapped back to reality, the familiar cold cuffs biting into your wrists.

“Do they have to keep these on me?”

Your lawyer let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about the damn cuffs right now.”

Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one wearing the damn cuffs.

“They’re distracting.” 

He ignored you. “They have you on video buying a plane ticket out of the country.”

You nodded. He didn’t mention the fact that your parole would’ve been up by then. Nothing wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“They found enough cocaine in your hotel room to get intent to sell. With the plane ticket, and your erratic behavior after you got out of prison, things don’t look good for you.”

“It’s not mine I-” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, talking so quietly, trying to hold back tears. “I swear.”

Your lawyer didn’t look convinced. “That defense won’t hold up in court.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I was able to cut a deal for you. It’s better than prison. They’ll tag you-”

Dog tags flickered in your mind. “Huh?”

“House arrest.”

“Oh.”

“You won’t be able to use a hotel, you’ll have to go back to the original residence you reported when you got out of prison.”

"What?” Alarm bells rang through your sluggish thoughts.

Your lawyer sick of you interrupting him, bulldozed on. “Listen to me. I don’t know why they’re offering this to you, but you won’t get a second chance at this. Confess your crime. They’ll confine you to your house for three years and serve parole in tandem. You’ll only serve a year of parole once you’re out.”

Three years. Three years stuck at Simon’s house. Three years with Simon.

“What happens if I don’t take it.”

“You’ll go back to prison. Given you’ve already been, they'll try for maximum. You could be looking at twenty years, ten if you’re lucky. Life on parole.”

Walk into the tiger’s den or let him continue the chase.

How did you get here?

___

They put the ankle monitor on at Simon’s house, now your house you suppose. A part of you had wanted to tell them to take you back to prison instead. But you knew the reality of your situation. Simon would just do the same thing he did before. Get videos of you, pictures of you, he could still watch you in your cell. He would still visit you. And that’s just what he would do while you were in prison, what would happen when you were released again? You were never going to be able to escape him. At least this way you would be more comfortable.

A gilded cage.

Simon talked to the officers, but he seemed to make even them nervous, as they all but ran out of the house. You watched as they shut the door behind them, alone in a room with Simon for the first time in a long time.

How did you get here?

Simon put his hand on the back of your neck, before gliding it upwards jerking your head back. Your eyes met his, and he was smiling.

“Hello, bird.”

“Simon.”

He shuddered when you called his name.

“Missed you.”

“Don’t know how, you never left me.”

He grinned, boyish and proud of himself, “Never.”

Simon kissed you then, feeling far more familiar than he should’ve for a man you’ve only had sex with once. You turned, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in your neck, Simon’s hand stayed instead wrapping around your throat. He gave an experimental squeeze, making you whimper, before he released you.

“Gonna’ be good’ fer me?” He rasped.

You thought about it for a moment, and he let you, time frozen mid-air. But you had been running for so long. And you were so tired. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Surrender.

You had to stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his, white flag given. That’s all it took for the dam to break. Simon let out a growl and slammed you into the nearest wall, cradling your head so it didn’t bang against the wall with the force. His body caged you in as he deepened the kiss. You had forgotten just how intense it was to be so close to Simon.

He filled your senses. You breathed him in, you tasted him, you heard his soft grunts against your lips, felt the rough edge of his jeans as he ground himself against you, watched as his blonde eyelashes fluttered open until he was staring at you. Always watching. Even in these moments. 

Simon’s hand gripped your ass, grinding you harder against him, moaning from the friction.

“You owe’ me somethin’ birdie. Made your fiance wait so long. Such a fuckin’ tease.” He growled in your ear before fisting your shirt in two hands, ripping it with ease. Hands squeezing your bare tits so tight you expected to find bruises tomorrow.

Confusion knitted your brows together before he shoved you to your knees and you came face to face with his crotch.

How did you get here?

Your hands shook as you undid the button on his jeans, the zipper loud in between Simon and your panting. He helped you pull his jeans down his thighs, his cock dropping out, hard and angry.

Fuck.

You had forgotten just how big the man was down below. Time distorting the memory enough you had convinced yourself that he was average and you were just desperate that night. You were wrong of course. The man was hung as a fucking horse.

It had been awhile since you gave a blowjob. The steady pay the pub provided, the tips you made, pawning a few of Simon’s gifts and you had earned enough to not necessitate them. Not that it would help in this situation. Simon was big enough that all your previous tricks were rather useless. You weren’t even sure if you could open your mouth wide enough to take him, let alone take him down your throat. Your poor poor throat.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and gave the head a gentle kiss, glancing up and meeting Simon’s eyes. Your gaze left his, feeling suddenly shy despite the situation you were in. Pre dribbled and you used the chance to rub it along his sensitive head with your thumb. You gathered as much spit on your tongue licking the underside of his cock, pushing it all the way up until it pressed against his stomach. He groaned, hand resting on the back of your head. 

With his dick out of the way, you used your other hand to caress his balls before pressing soft kisses to them. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue, using your hands to work his cock while you gave your attention elsewhere. His balls were much easier to fit in your mouth, but you could only delay the inevitable so long.

You pulled away fully, his cock falling under the weight of itself. The easy part done, now it was time for the hard part. Your gag reflex was not going to be happy. Bracing your hands against his thick thighs, feeling his muscles flex underneath your fingertips, you pressed your lips against the tip of his cock again, parting the seam of your mouth and letting him slowly slip in. Your tongue lying flat as he invaded your mouth.

Inch by overwhelming inch.

Before you had thought he was overwhelming, it was nowhere near as overwhelming as having his dick in your mouth. Gone were the lingering scents of tobacco and liquor. The outside world stripped away until just the man was left. Until only Simon’s musk filled your nose, wrinkling it as you took him a little deeper. Your jaw already ached from how wide you were stretching it.

Tired of your pace, Simon began to use your head as leverage as he pushed you further down, nails pressing crescents into his skin as you forced your body to relax. You quickly moved your hands back to the base of his length, stopping him from pushing you any further. Twisting your wrists to placate him enough to let you keep them there. Sucking to increase the pressure.

Simon moaned, hands going from gripping your head, to resting. Letting you work.

You took a deep breath through your nose as you began to work him in earnest. Swirling your tongue over the head of his cocked you began to bob faster and faster, unable to stop the lewd gurgling noises as the back of him hit your throat. His hands were at your head again, pushing himself further down your throat and back again. Setting his pace.

This wasn’t a blowjob he was fucking your throat. Using you. His dick twitched in his mouth before he pulled out, as you took in huge gulps of breath. Body hunching in on itself. You felt vulnerable like this. Kneeling in front of him, the top half of you completely nude.

You didn’t get much time to collect yourself before you were pulled to your feet, turned so that your back was pressed against his front, hands bracing against the wall. 

Simon kissed your neck, hooking his hands on your pants and jerking them down. They caught on your ankle monitor but he just tore them off, seams ripping. Your underwear was torn with a satisfying rip, before you felt the tip of his bare cock pressing against your hole. He thrusted against your slit, gathering your own slick before he reached a hand down, dragging his dick back before it caught on your hole.

You couldn’t help but whine at the stretch of him, un-prepped. He didn’t stop until his hips met yours, large hands bruising. He paused, leaning his weight onto you, sighing. As if being buried to the hilt in your cunt was the reprieve he had been looking for all his life.

“Missed her’ too. Did she mis’ me?” His voice was hoarse against your ear.

“Huh?”

He removed one hand from your hip bringing it to your clit, brushing one large knuckle against it, causing your knees to buckle. Simon chuckled, easily holding your weight against him.

“Don’ worry, won’ ever leave you for this long again Birdie.”

Simon licked your cheek causing you to try and jerk away from him, before the rough pad of his finger began to circle your clit, your pussy clenching around him almost painfully, grinding his hips into yours as if trying to fuck you deeper somehow. He pulled out before snapping into you. Again and again, hand never leaving your clit.

“Simon! Simon please! Don’t stop!” You couldn’t help but cry, bucking back against him as you felt an orgasm build quickly, faster than one had ever built before.

He growled into your ear. “Ain’t ever gonna run again Bird.”

You nodded your head, trying to do everything in your power to appease him to keep doing what he was doing. To keep thrusting. To keep his hand on your clit. To lick you again. Anything. Everything. You wanted him to consume you wholly.

“Ain’t gonna run no’ more. Ain’t gonna leave the house till everyon’ knows you’re mine.”

His hand left your clit, causing you to whine in protest, cradling your stomach. 

“Say it. Tell the whole fuckin’ world who you belong too.”

“You Simon! YoU! Simon! Simon please…plea-” You were babbling, until finally his hand went back to your clit.

“Don’t forget it.”

You came, cunt desperately clutching his cock, squealing as Simon didn’t even slow his thrusts. He pushed you through one orgasm onto the edge of overstimulation as he finally came with a grunt inside of you. He didn’t pull out, keeping his seed nuzzled safely near your womb.

You slumped against his arms, panting softly as the reality of your situation began to wash over you, naked except for the ankle monitor.

How did you get here?

It didn’t matter, because all roads led to Simon.

Tag list: @Sweetlike-sugarplum, @thatpersonamedrook, @aphinthestars, @misscaller06, @shushyoudontknowme, @youknowits-derea, @succubusvalentine, @sundaescreamcheese

[babiebom]

Heyyy! I was wondering if u could do the bachelors & bachelorettes reactin to / dating an s/o who has really intense nose bleeds when they're stressed. But plot twist bc this is literally the norm for the farmer bc they have crippling anxiety, especially social.

Thank u sm!!

A/N: I don’t know why I thought this was funny??? My anxiety just makes my stomach upset but a nosebleed in front of everyone like some sort of anxious demon is funny. Not the clean up tho. I’ve never had a nosebleed but I know they bleed SO MUCH. Also no problemo!!! Always glad to get requests!! I did different things (so not just stressed because I would’ve written the same thing for anyone I made crush aspects as sort of for stress too lmao) for each hopefully they’re good enough!

Tw: cursing, blood, anxiety, the nose bleeds are VERY dramatic because it’s fiction lmao. Physical fights(in Leah’s part), arguments(in almost all of them). Pierre hate Pam hate(kinda) Demetrius hate Morris hate. And Kel is gender neutral! let me know if there’s anything else to tag!

Wc: idk lmao hopefully at least 100 words for each

Stardew Masterlist

Sebastian:

Just frowns

Actually helps unexpectedly

….we can never talk about this happening again if you want…��

It’s not often that you get to see the towns resident emo, even after visiting Robin multiple times for various building needs. So when you wander into the house, looking for Robin so you can upgrade your coop, seeing him makes your brain malfunction.

“Oh…hey farmer.” He greets, moving past you to head further into the house. You blink for a second before returning the greeting, watching as his dark hoodie disappears behind a wall.

You try to force your breathing to slow down. There is absolutely NO reason you should be this worked up over a literal one second conversation. While you sit with your thoughts, foot steps fill your ears and the sight of Sebastian returning from wherever he went makes all of your progress regress. “So…you here waiting for my mom?”

You nod quickly, clearing your throat, “yeah…um…just need to upgrade my chicken coop.”

“Oh well, she’s not in today. She usually goes to Pierre’s store to work out with the other moms.”

You frown to yourself, how did you miss that she wouldn’t be in today? Damn now all you can think about is how you just made a fool of yourself. Lost in your thoughts, you miss that Sebastian had cleared his throat a couple times until he waves a hand in front of your face.

“If you want, I can take your order and tell her when she gets home later. That way she can get started tomorrow.”

“Would you?” Your heart flips as you perk up. Was he usually this nice? You kinda heard from Robin herself that Sebastian never really interacted with people he wasn’t already friends with.

“Yeah sure.” He shrugs and moves to go around the counter, setting his slowly cooling food down. “Okay so she usually charges 10,000g and you have to have 400 logs of wood and 150 things of stone. Sound right?”

You nod and hand over the bag of money. The second your hands touch it’s like your body decided it couldn’t handle anything else from him. Luckily he just takes the money and pretends like your nose hasn’t become a geyser as you scramble to try to keep the blood from dripping all over their furniture.

Sam:

WOAH DUDE IS THAT LIKE….NORMAL?

it’s like from a movie or something

Is overall sorta scared but at the same time thinks it’s cool

“And this is how I do a kick flip!” Sam shows you skateboard trick after trick and honestly you can’t get enough of it. It wasn’t a secret that the both of you had crushes on each other, and even now it was very obvious by how you were watching him do his tricks that you had feelings for him. Yet still you two weren’t in a relationship, just sort of friends who like each other in a romantic sort of way.

“You’re so cool!” You clap as he lands another trick.

“And you’re cute!”

“What?”

You freeze in your spot and watch in confusion as he sort of freezes midway through his next trick and crashes to the ground. His words echo in your head, making your face heat up and your heart soar. He smacks his face on the ground, sending you into a panic because now all you can think about is how he thinks you’re cute, and now how he probably has a concussion from hitting his face directly onto the concrete.

When he lifts his face off the ground, you’re kneeling next to him, trying to check on him. His forehead is bleeding, his nose is bleeding, and so is his mouth. You shriek and try to go through your backpack to see if you have anything to help him. You didn’t.

You already know where this is leading, and you let out a groan of annoyance right before your nose starts leaking just like his. His eyes widen and he lets out a loud laugh. Maybe you two can move out of the weird friendship you have after all.

Shane:

Would just stare silently

Like no comments no nothing

Doesn’t even act like it’s happening

Having a part time job at Joja Mart during the winter is one of the absolute worst ideas that you’ve had in a while. But you didn’t make a lot during your first year of farming. Stacking the products onto the shelves, your only saving Grace is the fact that you’re allowed to have earphones in. Except for the fact that Pam is now standing next to you asking loudly about where something is. Shane is stacking the shelves behind you.

“I don’t know Pam…the alcohol is probably on the wall in the back.” You frown at her. She obviously knows that you don’t know this store that well, you were a FARMER that NEVER shopped here before. She rasps out another question and it takes everything in you to not snap at her. Trying to calm yourself of course there’s gonna be something else that makes you lose your mind. That something is Morris, coming over and being the absolute WORST and in turn making Pam LOUDER and more insistent.

He’s lecturing you, Pam is agreeing with him way too loudly, the music on your headphones is now overwhelming instead of calming, and the sound of random things in the market is making you want to bite a chunk out of the loaves of bread in front of you, plastic and all. With everything building up inside of you, you already know what’s going to happen. It always happens, but instead of excusing yourself you stand there, staring Morris down as the blood begins to flow from your nostrils.

Pam yells out curses and Morris begins to stutter, but behind them Shane just stares for a second before continuing to work. When you’re finally left alone with him in the aisle as your two stressors hastily take their leave, all he does is let out a dry chuckle.

“Sam has a hell of a mess to clean up…”

Alex:

Oh DUDE your nose is like….LEAKING

Doesn’t help

Just watched and comments

“AND THEN HE HAS THE NERVE TO TELL PEOPLE THAT MY HARVESTS ARE HIS BUT HE ONLY DOES IT IF ITS GOOD!” You rant to the brown haired boy, pacing back and forth in his room. Thankfully both Evelyn and George were out so you weren’t bothering anyone except for the man in front of you.

You huff and puff as he watches, slightly amused slightly concerned. Alex wasn’t the best person to go to when you’re upset unless it was something absolutely devastating. So being in front of him now, complains about your farming woes meant that he was only half ass taking it seriously. “You should go and speak your mind.” He says.

Turns out you should NOT take advice from Alex. Standing in Pierre’s shop, you’re staring him down angrily, anxiety creeping up your throat from you trying to will yourself to call him out on his bullshit. The older man just kind of stares at you in confusion because all you had done was shout his name angrily as you entered the shop then stand in front of him seething.

“You….you…..” you point a finger at him. This was the moment, the moment you stand up for yourself and tell Pierre how HORRIBLE he is!

But of course things don’t work how you want and your nose gushes out blood all over the counter before you can work yourself up to the point of accusations. With a gasp you run out of the shop, hoping that he would keep his mouth shut with Alex running behind you laughing. Again, NEVER let Alex talk you into anything.

Elliott:

Panics

How do I help PLS LET ME HELP

Everything probably gets messy

Fishing had never been your favorite pastime, but now trying to fix up the community center you had to. Unfortunately Willy was gone and couldn’t properly teach you even though he had gifted you an old rod of his, so the next best thing is getting your boyfriend to teach you since he does fish often. Now you stand on the docks, waiting for a fish to bite the hook.

“Keep calm, the fish can feel your fear and it makes them upset.” Elliott spoke. In all honesty you didn’t even know if that was true or not, but you take in a breath to calm down. You did not want to be here all day you had cows to pet.

The second your line begins to pull you try to pull the fish in. And you succeed until it comes time to unhook the eel you managed to catch. The eel is slimy and slippery and all around not a good thing to try to grip. A shriek leaves your lips and the eel struggles, Elliott tries to help you but is also struggling to catch hold of it. And now your nose is bleeding adding another layer to the already hellish experience.

You’re unhappy, the eel is unhappy, and Elliott is unhappy. After what seems like an hour, the stupid thing slips out of your grips and back into the ocean, washing your nose blood off of it and splashing you with saltwater. 0 out of 10 you will not be trying again.

Harvey:

Calm but concerned(after panicking for a second)

Has a doctory approach to it

But is secretly like WTF inside

Your heart thumps in your chest as you sit on the clinic bed. It’s been a while since you’ve been in Harvey’s clinic, having taken a break from the mines, and somehow this seems more shameful than having been beaten almost to death by living slime. Your hands bleed into the cloth you have pressed into it. One of the pigs knocked you over into the broken fence you were in the middle of fixing. Now you sit waiting for the good looking Doctor.

When he walks in he’s all smiles, tapping his clipboard with his pen. “While I’m sad to see that you’re injured, I’m glad to see it isn’t from those mines again.” The eye contact he makes with you makes your heart twist for a second.

He starts speaking of all the shots you need and the antibiotics you need to take, rust poisoning is quite serious you know. “Now,” he says, moving towards you, “let me see your hand.”

Your heart thumps erratically at the close proximity of him and you. You only really ever got to see him this close when you were half dead and barely conscious. His face is much too close for you to be able to do anything but focus on how pretty his eyes are, and how fluffy his mustache is, and how…

“OH MY DEAR YOBA” He yelps and jumps away from you. It takes only a second after him to realize what’s going on, and now your furiously wiping away at your nose with your hands instead of with the cloth, and he’s trying to get something on your nose to catch the blood. It’s a disaster, really. But at least you’re already in a clinic!

Penny:

Probably panics

Doesn’t know how to deal with it

Would try to help though

The warmth of the pool in the spa did nothing to ease your nerves as you waded in the shallow end of the pool. Penny had invited you to come sometime after 7 pm, and when you had arrived she was already waiting for you, kicking her feet in the pool. The thought of her asking you here made your stomach turn, did you do something wrong…? Was she inviting you here to tell you she hated you or something…? You had grown close to her over your time here and would hate it if she thought you were too much or something.

“Do you know why I invited you here?” She asks, moving closer but keeping her eyes on the water.

You shake your head, “I’m not exactly sure, no.”

She frowns and sighs at you, meeting your eyes for a fleeting second then looking elsewhere. “Really? I thought you would’ve noticed by now…” her words trail off and her eyebrows furrow.

The next few seconds are ones that you simultaneously want to remember for forever and forget. She confesses her feelings for you. Feelings that you obviously reciprocate, and the emotions in you mix and grow, rising up your throat as if you were a volcano of conflicting feelings. As soon as you open your mouth to tell her that yes, you like her too, her face morphs into one that’s horrified instead of hopeful, disgusted instead of smitten and you realize a second after she does that your nose is spouting red, dyeing the water you both were swimming in.

Penny shrieks for a solid second before trying to scramble out of the water as fast as she can. You do the same, swirling the red around the pool as both of you splash trying to exit the now crime scene looking pool. When you get out of the water, she’s holding a towel right in your face, smooshing it so hard you can barely breathe and now your nose is throbbing with slight pain. “What do we do?!” She asks moving about quickly. She’s so confused that she just keeps walking and turning as if she’s remembering and forgetting things at the same time.

You just tilt your head downward and cringe inwardly, this was not the way to get a girl to like you. “It’s fine…I’m fine,” you say voice nasally and muffled. “And I like you too by the way.”

Haley:

confused staring

wtf is happening

Actually speechless

It isn’t every day that you get to talk to a beautiful blonde. It isn’t even every day that you talk to anyone. So when she approaches you on one of your trips off of your farm you couldn’t help but feel like either everything is out to get you or that you’re up on your luck. You don’t really know for sure, it honestly depends on how things go.

“Hey farmer!” She smiles as soon as she stops in front of you, the feeling of your stomach twisting makes you want to vomit in all of your nervousness. “I have a favor to ask you…”

“Yeah?” You ask trying to keep your cool. “What is it?”

“I would totally love love LOVE you forever if you could bring me an amethyst? It’s for Emily’s birthday and I don’t really like Clint so I don’t wanna buy anything from him. I’m willing to pay 150g!”

You cough into your fist, nodding along and taken aback by how casually she’s speaking to you. Before you can accept doing her the favor, the horrified look on your face makes your words falter.

She looks absolutely horrified, and touching your hand to your face you can feel why. Your nose started dripping blood, and by dripping you mean you can now feel it running down to your chin. A flurry of curses leave your mouth as confused noises leave hers. It's not much of a surprise that this has happened, but man did you wish it wasn't in front of her.

Emily:

Surprisingly chill about it

Probably has a weird story about a nosebleed or something

Actually helps

You sit at the bar alone, upset at a horrible farming day. You tried your best, you really did, but those stupid ass crows actually ate ALL of your seedlings. Or…almost all of them but that’s basically the same thing! There is no way you’re gonna make enough to make it through winter comfortably. You told Emily exactly this, appreciative of her listening ear in the middle of her busy shift.

“You know they probably didn’t mean it…or maybe they did,” she sucks in a breath eyebrows furrowing as she thinks, “you know crows are very smart they probably know that you’re using that land to farm and stay there because of all the free food.”

“But it’s not free!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up in annoyance, “I have to buy those seeds! They’re just putting me into debt!”

She hums and nods, wiping the bar next to you where a person had just left. You had only a couple months left until the snow started falling and making it virtually impossible to grow anything. The little plants you had left you had to fight the crows for. And by fight I mean you angrily swung a broom at the with the intent of scaring them (not hitting them that’s mean). Still the growing anger inside you was not easily crushed by her warm and quite frankly outlandish words. No, in fact your anger grew the more you thought about it.

You felt it coming before anything had even exited your nose, hurriedly snatching the rag from Emily’s hands. Damn now you would have to buy the bar a new one. She just blinks then nods as if your nose becoming a bloody waterfall was normal.

“You know…nose bleeds cause by stress is usually because your heart rate and blood pressure increase and it causes your blood vessels to dilate!”

You stare at her before laughing. Maybe she was helpful after all.

Abigail:

WOAH

WTF

WHAT DO WE DO?

You stand in front of Pierre in front of the shop, arms crossed as you watch his face grow redder the longer time goes on. “-IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MY DAUGHTER?” You’re not really listening to his tirade, over the whole ‘protective dad’ thing.

“Dad I’m an adult! You have no say in who I date!” Abigail yells back, face equally red. Who would’ve known that he would have a problem with the farmer he rips off constantly dating his daughter?

He yells out more reasons that the two of you shouldn’t be dating, and in turn points a finger into your chest roughly. You sputter out an offended sound, moving away from him. “Don’t touch me!”

“You shouldn’t be touching my daughter!”

“What? Dude we just started dating, you’re weird as hell!”

The arguing only gets worse from there, accusations flying around and now an audience comes with the drama. It’s almost too much for you to handle with now Caroline, Harvey, Haley, and the Milner family standing and watching the chaos. “Abby let’s just go to my place…” you try suddenly feeling the need to escape and no longer feeling the ‘fuck you dude’ attitude.

“No! He needs to understand that he can’t control my life!”

It’s like a volcano in your body and just like a volcano your nose begins to erupt. Now you’re screaming, Abigail is screaming, Pierre is screaming, the Mullners are screaming. Could this get any worse?

Turns out yeah, it can get any worse, like a family fight worse and now all of you are sitting in Harvey’s clinic. At least you aren’t the only bloody one now.

Maru:

Is surprised

Also forgets what to do

Would probably make things worse

Maru talks about robots and space the way you would talk about her: totally and completely enamored. You sit on her bed listening to her talk about her newest invention, some sort of robot that can cook and clean and basically be a free maid. You laugh and move your arm to get in a more comfortable position to watch her. Unfortunately your arm had other plans and smacked hard into her bed post. Groaning out in pain, your eyes close and begin to water from how much your elbow hurt.

Demetrius is in your face before you even realize that he was in the room. You yelp out in surprise as he starts ranting about you ruining his daughter’s future. You blink in surprise and try to retreat back into the mattress. What was happening. You can hear Maru screaming over his words but your ears feel like they’re filled with water.

“We’re just friends!” You find yourself shouting. Like damn is the man insane? It wasn’t the first time he’s gotten upset at you over Maru, but it was the first time that he was absolutely losing his mind.

“Dad stop!”

Time froze for a second as you and Demetrius stared at each other, Maru standing near him. Breathing in you can taste blood in your mouth before your nose starts bleeding, yet you can’t bring yourself to do anything but sit and catch your breath.

“Oh my god!” Both Demetrius and Maru exclaim moving around the room trying to find something to help. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at him acting concerned now.

Thankfully Maru looked cute trying to help you which at least made things a little better.

Leah:

Is also freaking out on the inside but calm on the outside

Helps you with tissues

Is understanding

Going on a date with Leah is a dream come true. There’s paint, wine, food, and you’re sitting in the prettiest meadow you’ve ever seen, well it’s pretty because Leah is there and she’s pretty and you’ve been here multiple times because it’s near her cottage but it still looks different today.

You sit, paintbrush in hand, laughing at something she’s saying. It’s fun and if she hadn’t have asked you would’ve spent the day farming like usual, this little break was needed. The day couldn’t be ruined, absolutely nothing can ruin it.

Okay, one thing can ruin it and that one thing is Kel coming and ruining everything. The argument that ensues is one of the worst that you’ve seen. Kel tries to walk up on you(translation: Kel wants to fight you), Leah stops them but in turn gets into a fight with them which causes you to actually get up and try to defend her.

You kinda block out until you can hear Kel call out “I made your nose bleed bitch!” Which again causes you to want to drown in your anger.

“My noses is bleeding because I’m stressed, stupid!” You back. It’s obvious Kel hadn’t been able to hit your nose so claiming to be able to hit you so hard your nose bleeds isn’t even possible. It’s almost childish how the two of you argue.

Leah finally gets Kel to leave and hands you a bunch of tissues as she sits you down on the now rumpled blanket. As the two of you catch your breath and calm down, you find yourself smiling at her behind the wad of tissues catching blood flowing from your nose.

At least the situation would be funny in the future.

[unluckilyimnot]

Hiii!! I loooooveee your blog so much!! Every time I see your notifications, I get like SUPER HAPPY!! It really makes my day!! AND SOMEHOW I DIDN'T SEE THAT YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN?? Could you do the types of dates kurona, otoya, and karasu from bluelock would go to? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Date with kurona, otoya, karasu, isagi, rin

m.list | rules

Note: Hiiiii omg your message make me so happy thank you sm 🤍 I hope it's what you expected

Kurona

He would loves outside date

Things like aquarium and parks, which is chill but you can still have fun and take great pictures

He changes his lockscreen all the time

He's kinda shy with pda but if you take his hand while walking around the aquarium he would love it a lot

He can stay a lot of time around jellyfish, the color it captivating

He can be loud around bigger animals like sharks or tortoises

Absolutely wants a matching keychain with both your favorite animals

He's most likely to play around if you're in places like parks so he would initiate contacts more

But he also like to take a plaid and lay down with you while toi read or just make fun about people around you

He would never be mean but likes to play along

Tag with along with some ice cream or a very fresh drink and you have a perfect date for him

Otoya

He tries to impress you even if you're already dating lmao

Would try to teach you how go skate

So you can fall into his arms or cling onto him

It's a good excuse to touch you outside

But he would really love to do it with you so he takes it seriously, don't worry

He would feel bad if you get hurt tho

He wouldn't say it out loud but you notice how super serious he'd become

He has a good sense of style so he would like to go shopping as well !

Window shopping is something he really likes

Add a coffee to the equation and he's the happiest!

Really to hear you talk about style and how you could style a piece with what you already have

Karasu

On the other hand, karasu knows he has nothing to prove

So he'll be chill about date

Don't get it wrong: he will plain it on every part and regularly (if not all the time)

And he wants to win your heart over and over again

But he also know that you love him and that staying inside with a movie only is enough

Yet he prefers to make it better like baking while watching a Disney movie!

Bonus point if you make something from the movie

Or while watching an old sitcom

Be prepared to have flour on your nose and for him to kiss it away

Rin

Football date, tell me he wouldn't

He takes you with him to see the matches of his favorite team

Or just with a pizza (for once) at home

He probably prefers date at home in fact

Even if he's not against it if you want so to something outside

Horror movie marathon

This is a routine, you have one every week, that's his cheating moment of the week

He stays up late, eat junk-food with you and don't get up early next morning

He loves it so much to be honest

His arm is around you all the time, pulling you against him if you're scared

He can also hide his face in your hair if needed

Bonus point if you fell asleep in his arms

Isagi

He would love taking a walk around the town and go see museum or important location

Like he read something about a place and he wanted to go check with you !

If you like historical places as well he's in heaven

I swear he falls in love again I'd you know some things and tell him as a cute funfair about the place

The type to find cute coffee shop that are not crown or trending

So be prepared ! He wants to try them all

And if you're a coffee or tea lover he simply needs to hear how you feel about it

His insta feed is mostly you on date and some pictures of the place (along with football)

I hope you liked it !

[crystalflygeo]

Morning coffee? Morning tea... ft Neuvillette + fem!reader

cw/tags: this is just SUPER tender and vanilla sex ngl. Pet names (in french!!! <3) dirty talking if you squint?? itty bit of somno maybe? idk how to tag this y'all just smut with feelings.

notes: HI I DISAPPEARED AND COME BACK TO OFFER YOU NEUVILLETTE. I love him so much, I am down horrendous I love him I love him I love him AAAAAAAAAAAAA. The self control I had to practice not to make him speak full sentences in french lmao.

The room is dark and silent as you shift on the bed, yawning. You blink drowsily and realize you were asleep, only dreaming of Neuvillette’s soft touch, the brush of his hair, his gentle kisses and nuzzling, reserved only for private settings. You roll over and rub at your face, but the bed is empty.

Hm? Where is your husband?

It is very rare for Neuvillette to leave like this, unannounced. He’d always give you a kiss, hushed whispers telling you he has some business to attend to before slipping out of the room. Sometimes he doesn’t want to wake you and leaves a note instead, but now as you look around, albeit half-asleep, there is nothing…

Did something happen? You frown.

His side of the bed is still warm though, his essence lingers in the room, on your skin. He was definitely here not too long ago. The familiar scent of his cologne teases your nose and you decide to burrow into his pillow to chase it, hugging the soft thing wishing it was him.

Today was a day off, there was no need to worry about work or other responsibilities. Though you suppose Fontaine’s Iudex’s responsibilities never end…

You sigh and cling tighter onto the pillow, closing your eyes and desperately trying to recapture the essence of that dreamy state, sliding deeper under the warm comforter and rolling onto your side in the middle of the bed, slipping into memories of the night prior.

Neuvillette’s deep voice, the delightful sparks of electricity as his hands roamed your body and that feeling of being so full, complete and sated as he slid deep inside you from behind.

Oh, how you love him. Always so reverent with his affections.

Somewhere between the reminiscence of a high pitched voice you barely recognize as your own moaning his name, and Neuvillette’s low tantalizing whispers as he urges you to come all over his cock, you barely register the soft click of the door.

The subconscious is a funny thing and part of you wonders how can he be there and in your little fantasy at the same time.

Deep in the middle of your struggle between here and there, there is a soft rustle of fabric, and then the sharp clink of porcelain coming from the bedside table, sounds that pull you back from the drowsiness.

“Hmmm… Neuv?”

The bed dips slightly with his weight, and a soft caress at your hair has you stirring a little. The covers sliding off your skin and Neuvillette’s appreciative groan upon seeing your naked figure spread out before him brings you almost alert.

You feel the warmth of him sliding into bed behind you, his hair tickling at your cheek and his breath at your shoulder as he nuzzles here, planting a soft kiss. Strong arms circling your waist as he pulls your closer, your hips slotting together.

And then you hear him, in that husky smooth voice you’ve come to crave. “Ma chérie.” He beckons, soft and low in your ear. “Ma belle…” Your name velvet on his lips. Large hands shifting your body, maneuvering until you lay on your back. “Mon amour.”

You let out a soft sound of acknowledgement and he chuckles.  

Eyes still closed you tilt your head towards his shoulder, seeking to curl up to his chest and cuddle, but instead you feel his weight shift on the bed again. You whine and a tiny speck inside your head is ready to cry out for him not to leave, but before you can form a coherent sentence you suddenly feel him on top of you, his larger frame caging you, long locks sliding off his back and firm hands taking hold of your thighs, coaxing them to part.

“Let me take care of you, ma chérie.” He’s persuasive with both his touch and his words, spreading your legs gently, one of his hands sliding towards a calf where he squeezes lightly, your body soft and pliant like moist clay under the hands of a sculptor. “You’re so gorgeous… show me…” He kisses a trail down your neck to your collarbone, your chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm as you squirm a little, ticklish and aroused.

“Neuv…” You moan, eyes still closed but senses fully aware of him and everything around you. The room feels hotter, your skin simmering everywhere he touches. Your sides, your hips, your ass… lifting your bottom slightly to slide you into his lap, your legs instinctively curling around his torso and oh- “Oh…”

He shushes you gently, rolling his hips so his cock slides along your folds, teasing and rubbing at your sex, lathering on your slick and growing harder.

“So good for me…”

You whine again, eyes finally fluttering open to stare at his mesmerizing lavender ones as he ruts softly into you. It drives you insane, the want, the wait. And you claw and grip at the bedsheets in anticipation when the engorged cockhead catches on your hole for a moment before sliding again, poking at your little clit instead.

“F-Fuck… Neuv, please…” You groan breathlessly, arms reaching out for him to hold onto the pale skin of his shoulders.

He hums and finally guides himself inside, the first stretch making you keen and toss your head back into the pillow. You see his eyebrows twitch slightly, diamond pupils dilating. Your inner walls squeeze and gush as he pushes deeper and deeper. Goosebumps rising on your skin, sweat running down the back of your neck.

He bottoms out and groans, long and low, leaning into you to rest his forehead on your shoulder, savoring the way you clench before seeking out your lips for a kiss. It’s passionate, heated, but still sweet and you can’t help the smile that breaks when you taste his favorite tea on his mouth, bold, strong and decadent.

As morning light filters in through almost sheer curtains you gaze up at his face, the sharp elegant lines, his long lashes, his beautiful eyes and the slightly disheveled hair, partially falling over his face. You reach out with a hand and comb your fingers trough the white and blue locks, brushing them behind a pointy ear before sliding your hand back and reaching for a horn, petting it gently with pure adoration.

“You’re beautiful.” He says.

You make a sound that’s a cross between a scoff and a laugh, blushing and realizing that as much as you’ve been staring at him, he’s done the same. “Was about to say that myself…” You reply. You see the white pupils flicker, turning to slits and back to diamonds and a shiver runs through your body, acutely aware he’s still inside you. “I love you...”

“I love you too, ma chérie, more than you can imagine.” Your breath catches with his words, spoken so sincere, with such resolute feelings.

You are his, so wholly and utterly, but he knows he belongs to you too. Irrefutably intertwined, awakening long forgotten instincts on the old dragon. Neuvillette’s hands hold your hips again as he starts thrusting into you, filling you and then retreating ever so slowly. You bite your lip and try to push closer, canting your hips to that delicious feeling as warmth pool in your gut.

Your arms are back around his neck, fingers tangling on his hair and bodies pressing together as his pace increases steadily, gasps leave your parted lips. Your muscles already tensing on a tight coil.

Neuvillette hisses as he sinks into you, harder but not faster, aiming his cock right where you want it most, he feels you tighten around him, hot warmth sucking him right in and begging for more. It’s perfection that Neuvillette ruts into, pressing over and over. His instincts on fire telling him to lay his claim.

“I love you.” He says again, unable to stop himself.

You feel pleasure bubbling up, fast, faster than you’d thought, and intense. Your toes curl, legs gripping harder around him and your nails accidentally clawing at his back, surely leaving red marks on that pristine skin. He groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting louder, wetter. His thrusts aim deep, heavy and punctuated strokes that hit your sweet spot with accuracy. Labored breaths mixing together.

“Neuv, Neuv… ‘m so close, please pleaseplease-” You whisper desperate, needy.

His thumb finds your clit and you squeal as he draws lazy circles on it, lasting only a few more seconds until you can’t stand it any longer and come undone for him… all over him, gripping him tightly, head thrown back with a loud moan, eyes shutting close.

“Hah… that’s it, hng-si serré…” He mutters and smiles satisfied as he looks at you, flushed and tender, whispering tender words against your neck, love and adoration pressed against your skin before his fangs do as well. Keeping his carefully measured pace as you ride the high of your orgasm and he chases his own pleasure, releasing inside you with that same slow methodical drive and a hoarse primal groan.

You both lie there for a few moments, panting and feeling the aftershocks, soaking up on the feeling of each other. A tangled mess of limbs between sheets and blankets. Neuvillette carefully rests his body on top of yours and you coo happily, combing his hair with your fingers, scratching at his scalp gently as another kind of of drowsiness settles on you, leaving you feeling floaty and light in the afterglow of your lovemaking.   

Your bodies relax and wind down, putty against one another when he raises his head from his resting spot at your chest and kisses you again, short but not less sweet.

“Good morning, ma chérie.” He says, voice low and soothing.

“Morning…” You smile back at him. A little amused.

He slides off of you and you whimper, feeling the stickiness and a slight discomfort from the sudden emptiness. He leans over a little and reaches for something on the bedside table. “I brought you some tea.” He presents you the cup delicately, still warm.

You chuckle and scoot to sit up at the crumpled blankets, graciously picking up the cup and taking a sip. The tea is fragrant and sharp, the same taste on his lips minutes ago… ah, so that was it.

“Thank you, Neuv.” You peek at him from over the cup.

A warm tea and a good fuck… you could definitely get used to mornings like this.   

[lucysarah-c]

I apologize if this has been asked before but what do you think Levi's kinks are? :)

Hi, sweetie! Oh, do not worry, no need to apologize! I haven’t received this ask before, and even if I did, it’s not a biggie. I could just attach a link to that ask here <3 Do not worry.

MH, Levi’s kinks… good question.

Power play for sure. Have you seen this man say that “pain is the best discipline”? He's always 100% down to teach you your place, at least in the bedroom. Outside of it, he deeply respects your position. Inside the room? Oh baby girl, he wants you to know he’s in charge and could spend his entire life reminding you of it.

…Shibari or tying up. Have you seen those uniforms? Levi sees that harness and deep down he wonders how pretty you would look all tied up. This one is a bit more tricky, so he and you may work around it to see how much of it you're both into.

Overstimulation, absolutely. Those Ackerman powers are a blessing; he knows he can last for hours. Can you? Oh, it's okay, baby, don’t be scared. He'll just have to keep fucking you, and if by any means you end up feeling like your legs are made of jelly from all the times he made you cum… well, I guess that’s the consequence of dating humanity’s strongest soldier. I think he could just feel getting hard, or getting cocky by feeling how you shake against his face as he keeps eating you out like a thirsty man who had been traveling across a desert. The idea that he left you completely and absolutely destroyed makes him feel so cocky. You can accuse this man of many things, but leaving you unsatisfied in bed isn’t one of them.

Degradation and praise kink. Depending on the situation and his mood, he can go either way or BOTH at the same time. “Aw, you look so pretty riding my cock. You’re doing amazing, girly. Mh? Enjoy that dick?” you will nod as you ride him with all your life “I bet. What a dirty little cock whore you turned out to be.”

Alright, maybe this one isn’t popular and maybe it's a bit OOC on my part… Corruption kink. At multiple times in his life, as the famous former thug who lived in the most dangerous part inside the walls, the idea of getting you, looking at him with doe eyes through your eyelashes, faking innocence or truly having it… I can literally picture him thinking, “Doesn’t matter if she doesn’t have much experience or doesn’t know how to make me feel good yet. I’m a very good and patient teacher… have an entire lifetime to mold her into perfection.” He likes to save the best for last; this man would enjoy every single little detail of seeing you fall into the beautiful dark pleasure he can show you.

Those are the ones that come to mind rather quickly…

I’ll give you (as if my ramblings are worthy material to be gifted, lmao) 2 kinks that I DON’T think Levi has and I believe are very popular.

Breeding kink. Like this one, maybe depending on the situation and if it’s a “game” kind of thing. But I feel Levi is a person who takes paternity very seriously; it has to be a VERY particular scenario for me (at least canon Levi) where he’s like, “fuck it, yeah let’s risk getting you pregnant.” BUT it’s a kink I can see A LOT more in Post-War Levi; it’s not that he doesn’t want to breed you… he’s just too responsible to take the risk.

Daddy. HAHA I feel like if you called Levi that in the middle of sex, he would freeze a little and be like, “Sir? Yes. Captain? Absolutely. What did you just say? Just… no.” I dare to say that if you bring it up playfully, perhaps as a joke, he will wrinkle his nose and say, “If you want to fuck Erwin, just say it, but don’t bring that shit into my bedroom.”

I had fun writing this one; I feel it’s a classic “Levi’s blog” ask that surprisingly I’ve never received before! Thank you for that! Hope this was good enough.

Have a lovely day.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @storiesofsung @galactict3a @twruui @lemonsupernova @r3becca_0 @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @hyuckwon-my-husbands Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[yuri-is-online]

I can get why yutus so afraid of azul. He's heard a hundred stories about a suave, smug, but clingy octopus and then he meets him and hes this possessive little swinderler who's trying to get him to sell his soul to him and fuck his parent lmao

referencing the tags on this ask about this au

Tako Yutu didn't have the easiest time as a kid.

He was a chubby little thing raised by a single parent who didn't have the clearest memories of his father, or of their past at all really. I wrote Yuu and Yutu as being a sort of outcasts in the community because people thought they were strange, and were skeptical of Yuu's amnesia. Azul! Yutu was really bothered by that, much like his dad he got bullied and sought solace in books, but unlike him Yuu decided to enroll Yutu in some martial arts classes and hey. He was pretty good at those, his submission holds are real bad news, even won him some competitions. But he's not some muscle head even if he sort of looks like one (he didn't really drop his baby weight so much as he did bulk up) so when he gets his first real look at his father... everything in him is screaming that this guy is sketchy. He knows that Azul and the twins are watching him even if he can't see it outright and to make matters worse, when he asks his parent about him they make a face. A face Yutu knows well that he thought was reserved for the annoying nosy couple who lived next door to you and not his father. His father who Yuu's few memories had made sound wonderful; his father who was supposedly talented and hard working, smart and proud of it, but so desperately in love with his parent they still longed for him with broken memories in a completely different world. His father who Yuu had said he was so much like.

"He's not a bad guy." Yuu says and Grim huffs.

"Don't listen to them Henchuman 2." Yutu has no idea how he feels about Grim calling him that. "Azul's reeeeeeeal bad news. If he's interested in ya' it can only mean one thing, he's after your tuna and he's after your magic."

"That's two things." A smooth voice says at the same time he does and for once, Yutu sees surprise on Azul's face when he tries to make eye contact and not carefully calculated confidence.

"Well they do say great minds think alike." His father says and extends a hand. "But I must say you didn't strike me as the shy type, it is Yutu right?" The way he says it, the way he shakes his hand, Yutu knows he at least suspects him. So he smiles and makes sure to make his handshake just a touch too firm when he responds.

"That's right." Yutu is impressed that Azul doesn't flinch even slightly when he pulls back his hand, if anything his little action makes his smile wider. "And not so much shy as just curious and knowing better than to poke my nose where it doesn't belong."

"Not until you've asked anyway." Azul really isn't content with letting him remain ambiguous, he thinks nervously glancing back to Yuu. "But still there really is no need to bother the prefect over such trivial things, if you have questions about me you can just pay me a visit at the Mostro Lounge. My door is always open to poor unfortunate souls such as yourself." Azul smiles at him and adjusts his glasses and Yutu is... impressed even if the thought of being alone with this man terrifies him. But he's going to have to be eventually, Azul really wants to talk to him for some reason and Yutu finds himself wondering if he's going to find it possible to lie, or just what price he will be expected to pay to have the privilege of keeping his secrets.

But when he looks at the way Azul talks to Yuu... he isn't sure if he likes it but he does find it funny. Azul is so horrendously down bad and Yuu is so unaware of it (there's a part of him that thinks Azul might be a little bit jealous of him which he finds really funny). And Yutu understands why Yuu likes Azul so much. He is everything they remembered him being: smart, ambitious, and motivated. It makes him a little more secure in his existence even if he doubts that Azul will like having a son like him. But that's ok too because a son like him is exactly what's needed to make sure his parents get to stay together in this timeline.

now if only he can convince him to stop bugging him for his real name

[libraryofgage]

SpiderPool Steddie Part One

So, this is definitely gonna have multiple parts lmao

It's been bouncing around my brain for a while like the Addams Family Steddie AU lol

Anyway, lemme know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts ^_^

----

Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls is, at best, a dive bar. At worst, it's a cesspit in which the scummiest people in the city gather to bask in each other's scumminess. To Steve, however, it's the perfect place to collapse after a long patrol, splayed out like a starfish on the roof as the music playing inside vibrates the building itself.

Steve takes a deep breath, setting his bat down next to him before pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose. He then lies down on the roof, wishing not for the first time that the city's light pollution wasn't so bad. Seeing the stars and hunting for constellations would really help him ignore the cracked ribs screaming inside his chest and threatening to break if he even breathes wrong.

All things considered, though, it could be worse. Steve doesn't have any morning classes, Vecna didn't beat him up nearly as bad as he usually does during their fight earlier, and his accelerated healing means Steve will be able to breathe normally by morning. Robin would tell him he has a very low bar when it comes to judging how shitty his life currently is, but she isn't here, so her opinion doesn't matter. Dustin would tell him he should try not getting his ass whooped in the future. Thankfully, he also isn't here, making his opinion as meaningful as Robin's.

Steve closes his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and trying not to think about anything. It sort of works until his entire body suddenly tenses, every nerve on edge and goosebumps shooting across his arms. He shoots up, ignoring the harsh twinge in his ribs as he turns in a crouch and grabs his bat. Steve clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose to keep from groaning in pain, and feels relieved he didn't completely remove his mask completely.

Over by the door leading to a staircase is a guy with ripped jeans, a worn-out shirt with "HELLFIRE CLUB" across the chest, a jean vest covered in patches and pins, and hair pulled back out of his face with a few wavy strands stubbornly escaping his hair tie. He's breathing a little heavily, his face flushed like he's just climbed a few flights of stairs. Actually, he probably has.

"Woah," the guy says, his voice soft enough that Steve would have missed it if not for the enhanced hearing. The guy clears his throat and holds up both hands, showing off a bottle of Jack Daniels in one and a bag with a grease-stained bottom in the other. "Uh, I come in peace. I didn't realize the rooftop was taken."

Steve has no clue what possesses him, but he forces himself to relax and set the bat down. "No, it's okay. I can head out," he says, staying seated despite his words. He's really hoping the guy will insist he doesn't need to; his ribs are still aching like a bitch.

Thankfully, the guy flashes a grin and slowly lowers his hands. "Nah, you're all good. Not every day I get to eat next to a hero. Want some fries?" he asks, walking over and sitting a good two feet away so there's plenty of room between them.

He tears open the bag to create an impromptu plate and puts it between them, the smell of greasy and undoubtedly delicious fries tempting enough that Steve picks up a smaller one and pops it into his mouth. "Thanks. Where are these from?" Steve asks, glancing over as the guy twists the cap of his bottle and takes a swig.

"A burger joint two streets down and one street over. On the corner."

Steve nods, making a mental note of the directions so he can get a burger before swinging home. He's got just enough in his pocket to afford one. "So, got a name?" Steve asks, figuring he's already eating the guy's fries and they're about to spend some time together on this roof. He should know the guy's name.

The guy's grin returns, and he sets the bottle down between them as well. It's tempting, but Steve doesn't trust his alcohol tolerance to hold up while his body is busy fixing his ribs. "Eddie. Do I get to know your name, too?"

Steve snorts and leans away slightly, putting a bit more distance between Eddie and his entirely too-grabbable mask. "Nice try," he says.

"Worth a shot," Eddie says, shrugging as he picks up a few fries. "So, Spider-Man, what brings you to Sister Margaret's? You enjoy the gay metal scene?"

"What's the difference between gay and regular metal?"

"Our hair is better," Eddie explains, dramatically flipping the few strands of hair escaping his tie.

Steve has to hold back a second snort, taking another fry and chewing on it before saying, "I like resting here after patrol. The whole building shakes with the music."

Eddie lights up, his eyes brightening and his back straightening some. "So, you're a fan of Corroded Coffin," he says, taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. It's only now that Steve realizes it's already a quarter of the way gone, and he wonders if Eddie's liver can handle that much alcohol all at once.

"Is that the name of the band?"

"Yep. They play here almost every night."

"I'm guessing you like them, too, then?"

Eddie hums, amusement dancing across his expression now, giving Steve the distinct feeling that there's some secret he simply isn't in on. "They're the best band I've ever heard. Their music is incredible. They really push the boundaries of the genre. And their lyrics? Amazingly layered with at least three meanings per line. I highly recommend actually coming in for a listen one of these days," Eddie says, leaning a little closer to Steve.

A beat of silence passes in which Steve holds Eddie's gaze. Or, he holds the gaze on his end; he's sure Eddie can't actually tell with the mask covering his eyes. "You're in the band," Steve says.

"Lead guitarist and singer, yes. I also write the songs."

"You're incredibly critical of yourself, really grounded in reality."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "I just happen to know my worth incredibly well."

"You have all the confidence of a mediocre white man on a job hunt."

Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest as he looks at Steve. "How dare you call me mediocre. I am revolutionary at worst and the second coming at best."

"You know the second coming involves, like, an apocalypse or something, right?"

"I'm Jewish, why would I bother with the fine details?" Well, Steve will give him that. "By the way," Eddie says, gesturing to Steve's bat as he continues, "do those nails actually see any use? Or are they just there to act as a threat?"

Steve looks down at his bat, considering it for a moment before carefully holding the middle and offering the handle to Eddie. Now that he's giving them a few moments of attention, he's realizing the nails embedded in the end are a little rusty and definitely need cleaning. "I try not to be deadly with it, but Vecna's got these lab-grown demon dogs and bats that always manage to break through my webs," Steve explains.

He watches as Eddie takes the bat, weighing it in his hands before shoving his palm into the nails. Steve jerks, a wordless shout escaping his throat as he launches himself over the fries and in front of Eddie. "Are you okay?!" he asks, grabbing Eddie's hand and shakily inspecting the nails sticking through it. Fuck, those are going to be a bitch to get out, and he'll probably have to swing Eddie to the hospital for a tetanus shot.

Being angry doesn't even register in his brain as Eddie laughs. "Don't worry about it, Spidey," he says, pulling his hand off the nails with a slight wince. He wiggles his fingers, letting Steve have a front-row seat to the injuries closing. "See, good as new."

And he's right. The injuries are good as new. In fact, there isn't even any scarring, and Steve almost rips his mask off to take a closer look but stops himself at the last minute. Instead, he grabs Eddie's hand and yanks it closer, turning it over to check his palm, too. "What the fuck?" he asks, looking up at Eddie, still gripping his hand tight.

"Super healing," Eddie explains. "Like, super duper. If I ever get decapitated, just hold my head to my neck, and I'll be right as rain."

"I'd rather not put that claim to the test," Steve says, frowning slightly as he runs his fingers over Eddie's palms, just to make sure the injuries aren't somehow hidden from sight.

"You know, I kissed the last guy who touched my palm like that," Eddie says, leaning in again with that grin.

Suddenly all Steve can think about is how Eddie's lips do look soft. And it has been a while since Steve actually kissed anyone. And he does think Eddie is funny. And he does find himself wondering if his smile will taste like the Jack Daniels and fries. And...and...

And Steve needs to go before he does anything he shouldn't be doing as Spider-Man.

He jerks back, dropping Eddie's hand like it burns, and ignores the ache in his ribs as he grabs his bat and stands. "I, uh, I need to get going. Thanks for the fries, Eddie," he says, hurrying over to the edge of the roof.

"Woah, just gonna eat and run on me, big boy?" Eddie asks, scrambling to his feet and over to where Steve is climbing onto the edge of the roof. "That's not very hero-like of you. You haven't even left me your name or number. How are you gonna pay me back $2.50 for the fries?"

"I had five," Steve says, turning to look at Eddie as he webs his bat to his back and pulls his mask down over his chin.

"The economy sucks, man."

Okay, he's got Steve there. Again. "Nice try, Eddie."

"Can you blame a guy? Your ass looks great in that spandex."

Steve is suddenly relieved his mask is back down, covering the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd think it was just a joke, but the sincere and somewhat goofy smile tugging at Eddie's lips tells him it's more genuine than anything else. "Thanks," Steve says, giving Eddie a two-finger salute before taking a step back off the roof.

He shoots a web at the edge of the building, using the momentum to swing around the corner. His ribs are killing him with the movement, but he still manages to throw a, "See you later, Eds!" over his shoulder before he's completely out of earshot.

Later, Steve will wonder how Eddie got his super healing, if he's that flirtatious with every guy he meets on the roof of Sister Margaret's, and if he'll be there the next time Steve swings by. But that's for later. For now, he's just enjoying the breeze rushing over him and thinking about Eddie's eyes and his smile and his long fingers.

[javiersprincess]

please higuruma is so sexy, i think of sitting on his face daily. like you said he doesn't mind the mess, he loves it. he finds out you've got a bush and its literally the happiest day of his life, he wants to make it so wet with his spit and your cum. i need him so bad

tags: 18 + minors dni, fem reader, fem receiving oral, overstimulation, dacryphilia, face sitting, hiromi dunks on americans lmao, reader is a referred to as a “real woman” please avoid is that could cause you to experience discomfort &lt;3

@prettyboykatsuki you asked to be tagged lmao

synopsis: higuruma hungers and aches, surely you aren’t one to deny him?

Higurumi Hiromi blames it on going off the rails in his 30s but he doesn't think he can find it within himself to be ashamed whenever he asks you to sit on his face. The nerves that show on your face as clear as day, how you shuffle from foot to foot as you ask multiple times if he is okay with it as if he isn’t almost drooling at the thought of you letting him in between your soft thighs. He doesn’t even ask you to let him go down on you - he just points to his chin and tells you to hop on.

“Your throne awaits.”

You are so caught up in rolling your eyes at his cheesiness you don’t notice that he has you tugged over him, knees to his shoulders, and your skirt-covered cunt hovering over him. Any humor in your eyes is hazed over and you can only look into his eyes - like coals ablaze as he presses a kiss to your innermost thigh; a rasp of teeth and a swipe of tongue and you whimper. Your cunt grows hot and damp, you almost feel embarrassed at how this man can command your body with the simplest of gestures.

“Are you sure I didn’t sha-”

“I’m not like those soft-hearted Americans. I like it when you don’t, it makes me feel like I’m pleasuring a real woman, not some weird fantasy.” His breath fans over the gusset of your panties and you try not to flinch when a kiss is pressed against dead on the bump of your clit. With each bated breath, a pressing of his lips is earned and it almost brings you shame how easily you start to tremble above, gasping when he lets his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your thigh as long fingers pull the damp fabric of your underwear to the side.

Hiromi moans - deep, throaty, and loud when he sees your bare cunt: the scent of your sex passes his nose, and the curls of your pubic hair shine from the slick you drip out. You are given no warning when the sorcerer pulls you down to his face and you are helpless to only gasp the first character of his name as he lets his nose slot neatly against the pearl of your clip, tongue finding its way to swipe at your lower lips. You are even more helpless to how his tongue breaches your silken heat and you feel yourself being drunk.

“Hiromi!” it’s a thin high squeal and he moans from his place in between your thighs. How sweet you are on his tongue and how sweet is your voice, pitching from pleasure to his ears. Hiromi is more than fine to die here - he wraps his lips around the throbbing pearl of your clit and sucks.

The dripping turns to a stream, he moans reverently at the tang of your cunt. Your hips are still, helpless at the onslaught of pleasure he gives you as you are sure you will have bruises in the shape of Hiromi’s fingertips on whichever inch of skin he deems doomed to be grabbed by him. Hiromi parts with one last rumbling groan - deep from his chest and pulls with his thumbs parting the folds of your lower lips to expose your too hot cunt to the too cold air.

“Look at you - pretty little thing.” You don’t know if the words are meant for you or for your cunt and you whine weakly at the embarrassment that floods you from your cheeks to your chest. If your gaze wasn’t so blurry from almost boiling tears you’d see the mess you made of the black haired man - spit bubbles at the corner of his lip as thin streams of your slick leak down his chin to his neck, finally reaching the collar of his shirt.

You’ve ruined his clothing - you dirty, beautiful girl.

“Mine, my precious cunt to ruin.” He mutters, eyes like thin slits and you squeal when the flat of a pink tongue swipes at your sensitive clit. Everything shudders at the light motion and it grows to tremors when his dark eyes glimmer in the low light of your room that spins as you are tugged forward on his face. Now Hiromi’s nose is pressed against the bump of your clit and his tongue is insistent on reaching as deep as it can inside of you. The sounds you make are thin and high - just as pathetic as the way you cum all over his nose and cheeks, the molten band in your stomach snapping at last.

His name is rushed, you almost trip over the syllables as your mind blanks into the sea of white hot pleasure - you had almost drowned once as a child and now you drown again only this time in different, deeper waters. You can’t believe your back hasn’t broken by how deeply it arches into a bow as you cream down the sides of Hiromi’s handsome face, adding to the mess of drool and slickness that now freely falls to the pillow he rests on.

“A-ah! Oh god!” you sob into the heated air of the room and Hiromi pulls you off, strings connecting his mouth to your lower half you observe with hot embarrassment. You tremble in his hold and dark eyes take in the haze of your gaze, he licks the tacky wetness of your cum from his upper lip.

“Giving you 5 - I’m still hungry.” he rumbles from beneath you at the wetness that clung at the seam of your cunt and the cleft of your ass chills as you weakly cry out at the idea of more.

[butchyeons]

req for dp jeongmohyo 👀 or even jeongmo (momo bottoming). desperate for more alpha jeong-tent

first drabble request is finally here! it’s… not really a drabble, i got a bit too excited with this prompt. but hopefully y’all won’t mind. that being said, i hope you all enjoy. this one will probably end up on ao3 later on, too. lmao, let’s get into it.

best behavior

a tiny omegaverse jeongmohyo fic.

tags/warnings: g!p, a/b/o dynamics, double penetration (obv), jihyo has an alpha kink?, rutting, edging, orgasm control, knotting, degradation, mating bites, biting in general (there is so much biting damn), mentions of blood, aftercare, pwp, alpha!jeongyeon, beta!jihyo, omega!momo. this is so filthy i’m sorry

cishet men and minors dni.

———

To say Momo had messed up was an understatement.

The omega had always enjoyed testing her limits with what she could get away with when it came to her mates. It was typical for her to constantly break the unspoken set of rules they all shared just to see what would happen. Cause problems on purpose, only to act innocent when she got caught later on. It was fun for her, and clearly it was fun for her mates, too. Despite how whiny she got during her punishments, how much she begged for them to go easy on her, she always really enjoyed it- craved it, even. She was a sucker for pain, for overstimulation, for being edged. The stupid omega part of her brain that she so badly wanted to deny secretly always craved it, really. She had no idea just how much she loved being treated like nothing less than a toy until she met Jeongyeon and Jihyo.

But nothing could prepare her for what was happening now.

“If you want to act like a slut, you’ll be treated like one.” Jeongyeon grunted out, forcing Momo down further on her length.

The alpha’s hand was firm on the back of her head, keeping her in place, pressing her down as far as she could go. Jeongyeon’s cock was invading her throat, making it impossible to breathe. The soft patch of dark hair that grew at the base was tickling the tip of her nose, the unbearable need that came from being fucking used ripping through her body like a wildfire.

It was great.

It was so much rougher than usual. Jeongyeon was practically fucking her throat, thrusting a few more times despite Momo being at her limit. Momo did her best to stay relaxed, to let it happen- to let Jeongyeon be mad about what she did. She deserved it, anyways. She had been bad. It was only fair this was happening, only fair that Jeongyeon got to use what belonged to her in whatever way she wanted.

As soon as she began to feel lightheaded, Momo’s hands firmly gripped onto the older girl’s sides, her nails digging into the soft skin without really meaning to. At the sensation, Jeongyeon let out a hiss, finally pulling her off by her hair, which left Momo a coughing, sputtering mess where she was kneeling on the floor.

Before she could really recover, Jihyo clicked her tongue somewhere behind her. Momo could only vaguely recognize the sound of her shifting, followed by the sound of her belt buckle and pants hitting the floor. Jihyo’s hand replaced Jeongyeon’s on the back of her head, pulling Momo back, forcing her to make eye contact with the beta that now leaned over her from above. The omega’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, her expression absolutely pitiful as Jihyo grinned devilishly down at her.

“Why are you embarrassed, baby?”Jihyo said, finally letting go of her hair. “You did this to yourself, after all.”

Jihyo circled around to the front of Momo and stood beside their third mate. The sight of her now naked form directly next to Jeongyeon’s stirred something up in Momo’s stomach, like always. Between Jihyo’s body and Jeongyeon’s massive length, Momo could feel her slick literally dripping out of herself, could feel how the mating mark Jeongyeon had left on her was practically throbbing with need. And she knew the older girl could feel it just based on how she was looking down at her right then, as if she was ready to devour her. She knew both of them could smell just how badly she wanted this, despite how Jihyo was almost always blind to it due to her nature of being a beta. And worst of all, she knew there already had to be a small pool of her own juices on the floor directly underneath her.

So of course she was fucking embarrassed. How couldn’t she be?

Jihyo crossed her arms, looking between her mates, before focusing her gaze back down at Momo. Her nose twitched slightly as she inhaled, unfortunately confirming what the omega already knew. When she exhaled again, the left side of her mouth curled up into that cocky smirk that Momo was all too familiar with.

“God, you reek, Momo. It’s almost like you wanted to be punished. You wanted to be treated like our little slut, didn’t you?”

Good lord, did she want this. She wanted to be disciplined, always did. She needed to be broken, needed to be taught her lesson, which is why she decided to openly flirt with Nayeon, Sana, and Chaeyoung the other night at the bar. Typical cock-brained, pheromone-drunk, sex-crazed omega.

Or really, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, typical Momo.

So when she weakly nodded, almost too scared to speak, Jihyo stepped closer. Her core was directly in front of Momo’s face, so close that she could easily lean in and get a taste. Instinctively, she did just that. But as soon as she was close enough to catch the scent of Jihyo’s own arousal, sweet honey with the faintest hint of spice, the beta’s hand tangled into her hair, pulling harshly. Momo yelped, her cheeks reddening even more from how her clit was now shamefully pulsing from the pain running down her spine.

“Use your words, Momoring.” Jihyo mocked.

She was putty in their hands now.

“F-Fuck-“ Momo stammered out. “I- yes- I wanted to be punished. I wanted to be your little slut. Please, Jihyo.”

Jihyo sighed, pulling Momo’s head back so they could lock eyes.

“That’s not what you call me, omega.”

The beta’s tone made her clench around nothing, causing even more slick to trickle down her thighs. Of course, the younger girl would pull this. She almost always did when Momo was in the dog house (literally or metaphorically, but they weren’t going that route today… hopefully, anyways). Momo never minded calling her that. Anything to get her off, she supposed.

“P-Please, alpha.” Her voice came out brokenly. “Treat me like the slut I am- ruin me. Both of you, please just break me. I’m all yours. Please, my alphas.”

Jihyo wasn’t just her beta, no- she was just as in control of her as her first mate, and deserved the title as much as Jeongyeon did. It was a little humiliating how turned on Momo got from addressing someone who had practically no rank as someone who was above her. She loved every second of it.

Jihyo smirked and hummed, seemingly satisfied with the response. And as a small reward for being so well behaved for once, she finally, so graciously gave Momo what she wanted, pushing her face into her core. Momo let out a soft whimper, doing her best to run her tongue through Jihyo’s folds, gathering her juices before greedily sucking on her clit in the way she knew Jihyo loved. The hand that was tangled into her hair tightened, yanking slightly. It hurt in the best way possible, the burning mixed in with the pleasure she got from helping her mate get off. Somewhere above her, Jihyo let out a groan.

“Fuck, Momo- good girl.” Her voice spilled out, distant and breathy. “Good fucking girl. Suck it, baby. Just like that. Such a slut.”

“Our slut, Hyo.” Jeongyeon added, stepping over next to Jihyo.

Momo watched as Jeongyeon leaned in and pressed a kiss to Jihyo’s cheek before moving down to nip at her neck, scenting her. The sight made Momo let out a soft whine, the want to be scented by her mates causing her to falter just slightly in her rhythm. It only made Jihyo force her in even more, her fingers digging through Momo’s hair as she held her in place. Momo scrunched her eyes shut, her body going limp as Jihyo just used her, riding her face without a care in the world.

“That’s right, Jeong. Our disgusting little-“ Another grunt cut the beta off. “Fuck- whore.”

Momo felt like her body was going to fucking explode by then. Despite not being touched at all, she could feel everything, her nerves all firing at once as her arousal got impossibly worse. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, which just exacerbated Jihyo’s sounds of pleasure, the wet kisses and love bites that Jeongyeon was eagerly leaving on their beta’s neck mixing into the sounds of Jihyo’s sopping wet folds rubbing against her lips and nose. It was disgusting. If there wasn’t a puddle of her own slick underneath her before, there certainly would be now.

“Fuck-“ Jihyo cried out. “Fuck, Momo. Fuck.”

Right as Momo ran her tongue across Jihyo’s clit one last time, the beta ripped her away. Momo’s eyes shot open, watching as Jihyo’s body trembled violently. Jeongyeon held onto her from the side, supporting her as she pressed a kiss to Jihyo’s temple.

The younger girl hadn’t finished, no. She would’ve had a much bigger reaction, been much more vocal. She edged herself. She only did that when she was mad, when she wanted to last longer. As badly as Momo wanted to be punished, a part of her was still afraid of what was to come. But that’s what made it so fun, anyways.

“Shit.” Jihyo hissed, her body twitching a few more times before it finally settled. “Fuck, baby. You almost had me there.”

Momo couldn’t help but smirk, a sense of pride blooming in her chest. But all of that quickly went away the moment Jeongyeon stepped forward again, gently slapping the head of her still-hard cock against Momo’s cheek.

“Wipe that attitude off your face, Momoring. You’ve got nothing to be proud of.” Jeongyeon practically sneered. “Suck.”

Momo immediately did as she was told, unable to fight back in any capacity after what Jihyo did. Her usual bratty self was nowhere to be seen as she took the head of Jeongyeon’s length into her mouth, sucking strongly before running her tongue through the slit. She looked up at Jeongyeon with wide eyes as she took even more of the alpha into her mouth, getting about halfway down before putting herself back up, dragging her tongue along the sensitive vein on the underside as she went. The action earned a groan from the older girl, which was music to Momo’s ears. She resisted the urge to smile again when she felt her mating mark pulse with arousal, a clear sign that her alpha was enjoying it more than she was letting on.

There was something else there, too, though. Momo’s mark felt… odd. It felt warm, slightly irritated. And based on how Jeongyeon’s eyebrows threaded together as Momo worked herself up and down her length, she could tell something was off with her, too. She seemed almost… pained. Momo pulled up for just a second, ready to ask if she was okay, but before Jeongyeon could force her back down, Jihyo shifted next to them.

“What should we do with her, Jeong?” She said, bending down to run her fingers through Momo’s hair.

Jeongyeon let out a low growl, which sent Momo right back into that brainless headspace. She could ask later, surely. It wasn’t a big deal, otherwise they wouldn’t be doing this right now. She focused on the head again, ignoring the fact that the alpha was already fucking leaking precum, swirling her tongue around the sensitive area before sucking harshly.

“Ugh-” Jeongyeon groaned. “I think she needs to be reminded who she belongs to, Hyo.”

“Oh definitely, baby.” Jihyo cooed, her hand still gently passing through the dark strands of Momo’s hair. “After how she acted, I think we need to ruin her.”

Momo looked up at Jihyo, who was smirking down at her as she continued to service Jeongyeon. Very quickly the beta’s sweet caresses were replaced with a firm grip, Jihyo’s fingers gripping her hair a pulling her back, a small pop noise following from how hard she was sucking. Momo let out a whimper at the painful sensation, Jeongyeon gasping at the loss when she was clearly getting into it. Jihyo pulled Momo up to her feet by her hair.

“You know we’re nowhere near done with you, Momo.” Jihyo said, moving to cup Momo’s face. Her thumbs passed over Momo’s cheeks a few times, soothing any pain that the omega felt from being manhandled, her act faltering for just a moment. “You alright to keep going?”

Momo nodded, hummed out a confirmation.

“Yeah, all good.” Momo whispered, her eyes falling closed. “I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

“I know, baby.” Jihyo whispered, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the tip of Momo’s nose. “Just wanted to be sure.”

Jeongyeon moved in, too, leaning over to scent Momo, pressing her nose into the younger girl’s neck before eagerly biting at the sensitive skin a few times while growling softly. It was possessive, like she was claiming her territory- something that was rare for her to do, especially in front of Jihyo. It managed to turn Momo on even more, clouding the omega’s mind completely, the slight concern being pushed to the back burner at the action. She told herself it was fine, Jeongyeon was just mad. It would pass.

Momo could feel herself clenching slightly around nothing when Jihyo also leaned over, pressing her nose against the other side of her neck. To have both of her mates scenting her like that was almost too much. It was hot. It worked her up even more, made her body feel like it was made of static electricity, her muscles fuzzy, the signals in her nerves bouncing off of one another with nowhere to actually go.

But as hot as it was, it was also comforting- a reminder that they did love her, a way to keep her grounded somewhat. As bad as she had been, she knew the two of them would take care of her. She knew they’d teach her to be good again.

With the three of them all worked up, the tender moment could really only last so long. Momo was quickly reminded that they really weren’t finished. After Jeongyeon had her fill of her scent, she moved her hand down to grip her ass roughly, growling as she softly nipped the shell of her ear. Typical Jeongyeon.

“I want her ass.” The alpha said, bluntly. “I think a little slut like her would love to have her ass ruined. Isn’t that right, Momo?”

Momo’s eyes shot open the moment she felt Jeongyeon’s nails dig into the soft skin. She whimpered, slick gushing out of her in response to the action. Pathetic.

“P-Please, alpha…” Momo whined on instinct. “I-I deserve it- need to be ruined.”

“Then I’ll take her front.” Jihyo said as she finally pulled away before reaching up and gently pushing a strand of hair out of Momo’s face. “And you better not even think about cumming until both of us are finished, Momoring.”

“Yes, alpha.”

She really was in for a wild ride, it seemed.

———

This wasn’t the first time Momo had been in this position. Jeongyeon was already buried in her ass, already practically splitting her open. She sat on top of the alpha, the backs of her knees being supported by the girl underneath her. It was wet and hot, downright nasty. But it felt so fucking good. As Jeongyeon bucked her hips up, pushing herself deeper with each thrust, Momo thought she could live just like that- splayed open for her partners to do whatever they wanted to her.

Momo’s head fell back, allowing Jeongyeon to bite at her neck, right at her mating mark. The feeling of it caused both of them to moan at the same time, Jeongyeon bucking her hips slightly harder as she sucked a bruise onto the sensitive skin.

“J-Jeongyeon-“ Momo whined. “I’ll- if you keep doing that I’ll-“

“You can hold it.” Jeongyeon grunted out, her teeth scraping across the mark. Her voice sounded a bit distant, a bit rough. “You’re a good girl, keep it in for us.”

Momo was on cloud nine by then. She didn’t have time to really focus on anything else but the pleasure of it all. She hadn’t even been touched where she needed it the most directly, only having felt Jeongyeon prep her before easing her down onto her cock. But god, she was already so close to the edge. It was dangerous, she knew it- if she finished without permission, Jihyo wouldn’t let her cum for weeks. And as hot as that sounded, Momo knew damn well that she’d hate it after the first day.

She was good, though. She had to be, anyways. She was determined to be good, to listen to her mates- to let them take control. She’d been so bad, needed to be taught her lesson. So she could hold on, right? She begged herself to try, but fuck. With Jeongyeon’s mouth on her neck, the familiar earthiness of black tea and mahogany flooding her nostrils, the pleasurable burn of her cock stretching her open and reaching so deeply inside her, it was so, so hard not to-

“But she’s not a good girl.”

Momo only vaguely registered Jihyo’s voice, her mind foggy from everything else. Jeongyeon thrusted up again, a lot rougher this time. A groan caught somewhere in Momo’s throat. The bed dipped-

“And she needs to be reminded of that.”

Before Momo had any time to react, Jihyo brought her hand down, right onto her core. The omega let out something between a moan and a scream, brokenly. She could feel tears forming in her eyes as she gasped for air, willed her body to keep itself together as Jeongyeon thrusted up again, somehow even harder. It was so much, so fucking much. She knew she was leaking slick again, knew it had to be bad considering she could smell herself. Strawberries, black tea, and honey permeated her senses. It was taking everything in her to hold herself together.

“Poor baby’s so cockdrunk already.” Jihyo cooed mockingly as she ran her fingers through Momo’s dripping folds. “Such a little slut, hm?”

Momo was fully out of it by then. When she didn’t immediately reply, Jihyo slapped her again, her index and middle finger landing directly on her painfully swollen clit, even harder than the last one. The sensation caused another broken squeal to rip its way out of Momo’s throat, her body tensing up as she reached for something, anything to hold onto, blindly grabbing at Jeongyeon’s arms, digging her fingers into the strong muscles of her forearms. Jihyo slapped her pussy for a third time, and then a fourth, which made Momo grit her teeth, the pain so delicious that it nearly made her break then and there.

“You know you have to answer me when I’m speaking to you, omega.” Jihyo said, quickly running her fingers back and forth over Momo’s clit.

Momo whined, nodding. Her mind was so hazy, her body overtaken by such overwhelming need. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this fucked out, and they had only just gotten started. Hell, she wasn’t even in heat- but she certainly felt like she was. The normal Momo, the Momo that had the right mind to not act so incredibly indecent would be cussing her out right then. But when Jihyo focused on the most sensitive part under the hood, her fingers having been practically trained on how to break Momo apart, she didn’t fucking care. She couldn’t, anyways.

“F-Fuck, Ji- alpha. I’m- I’m such a slut, I love-“ She was cut off when Jihyo pressed down even harder, causing her to moan loudly. Any remaining sense of shame she had left was long gone by then. “Oh my god- I love your cocks, love being your slut, please- I’m all yours, only yours. No one else’s.”

Suddenly it was overwhelming. Pain shifted into pleasure way too easily, melting together in a way that was just too much. She needed to stop, she couldn’t hold on. Every alarm went off in the omega’s head, her nervous system being practically frayed open, lit up like the hot coals of a roaring fire. If Jihyo kept it up any longer, if Jeongyeon bucked her hips one more god damn time-

“I-I can’t- I’m gonna-“

Right as Momo got to the point of no return, Jihyo pulled back. Jeongyeon had stopped her thrusting too, choosing to move her hands to the omega’s hips, holding her in place. It was intense, felt nothing short of disappointing to have her high stolen from her like that- but it was necessary. Thank god. She was half a second away from seeing stars, from giving in to her natural urge to just let herself go, and as much as the beta liked to dish out a punishment, she also knew Momo’s limits. The break allowed the poor girl to gasp for air, her mind finally coming back to its senses.

“All good, baby?” Jeongyeon whispered, nuzzling her face into Momo’s neck.

Momo nodded, her head falling back again. Jeongyeon pressed several gentle, loving kisses against her pulse point as she inhaled deeply. Somewhere beside her, Jihyo shifted, taking her hand, bringing it up to her mouth to press kisses to her knuckles.

“If it’s too much, we can stop.” The beta whispered. “You’re doing so good so far, baby. But I don’t want to push it.”

Momo looked over to Jihyo and smiled, huffing as she rolled her eyes. Leave it to both of them to be this sappy despite the fact that Jeongyeon was literally balls deep in her ass. Typical.

“You know I’d tell you otherwise, Ji.” Her voice came out more deadpanned than she really meant for it to, but fuck she was horny. “This is great, please keep doing it. I’m good to keep going.”

“Okay, okay.” Jihyo said, finally moving so that she was between Momo and Jeongyeon’s legs. She leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to Momo’s lips. “I love you.”

Momo smiled. “I love you too, Ji. Both of you.”

“Love you, Momo.” Jeongyeon mumbled, her voice muffled from her face being pressed against Momo’s neck. “So much.”

The sweetness was welcome, really. That’s what Momo loved about the both of them. As mean as they could be when they were fucking, there was always care behind all of it, years of trust shown in each movement. Momo couldn’t linger on it for too long without getting emotional. These were her mates. The two people she was bonded with for life, no matter what. Even if Jihyo couldn’t ever have the physical mark to match, even if Jeongyeon was the most annoying person on the planet, they were hers. It was a little humbling just how much she loved them, sometimes it was a little scary.

But whatever. She didn’t want to think about it. Right then, she just wanted to be fucked. That was the entire reason she misbehaved to begin with- to get fucked. She’d rather die than ever tell Jeongyeon and Jihyo they were right- that, maybe, she really was a slut. But whatever. She needed them to do something, and fast. Or else she was going to finish completely untouched and have to deal with the consequences of that.

Thankfully, her prayers were answered. As soon as she felt the tip of Jihyo’s strap run through her folds, she was right back in that fuzzy headspace, the coals of her arousal burning brightly once again.

“So fucking wet, baby.” Jihyo said, continuing to rub the dildo back and forth over Momo’s core. She tilted her head down, pulling away for just a moment, leaving Momo breathless with need. “And you’ve ruined the sheets. All that from getting fucked in the ass, huh?”

Momo nodded mindlessly. It was almost humiliating just how easy she was. Almost.

“Y-Yes, alpha. All because of you- both of you. Feels so good- ah!”

Without warning, Jihyo pressed the tip into her entrance. Momo knew which toy she picked based on the stretch alone- it wasn’t the biggest one they had, rather a smaller one that curved up in the best way possible, always hitting her and Jihyo’s g-spots when they used it. But god, it was just enough. As Jihyo somehow fully slid herself in, occupying the leftover space that Momo was always surprised she even had, she felt like she was in heaven.

“Remember, you can’t finish until me and Jeongyeon do.” Jihyo warned, her hands immediately finding Momo’s hips, replacing where Jeongyeon’s were.

“I know- I know. Please, just-”

Both Jeongyeon and Jihyo thrusted at the same time, cutting her off. Momo practically saw white as her head rolled back, her body falling limp in her alpha’s arms as the two took off, fucking her at a pace that wasn’t exactly relentless, but wasn’t exactly soft, either. The angle was a bit awkward, the rhythm of their movements clunky because of it. But fuck was it good.

And it was made even fucking better when Jeongyeon’s hand worked its way up to Momo’s throat, pressing down just enough to cut off Momo’s air. She reached up, her hands finding Jihyo’s shoulders, gripping with enough strength that she could feel the beta’s skin under her nails. Jihyo hissed in pain, but didn’t falter in her movements- instead, she managed to go even harder, pounding into Momo with a fury that the omega almost forgot she had. The sounds of her slick filled the room, the bed squeaking loudly mixed in with Jihyo’s grunts and Momo’s whimpers. It was so fucking messy. A mix of sweat, slick, and pheromones pouring onto the sheets each time they thrusted into Momo like it was their last few moments on earth.

But something shifted suddenly. Jeongyeon removed her hand, allowing Momo to gasp for air- and that's when she caught it. The alpha's scent had changed just slightly, becoming darker, muskier. Headier. Dangerous. Her moves got stronger, her hips bucking up with a force that practically lifted Momo up with each thrust. There was a low, almost feral growl from behind her, a telltale sign that-

"Oh my god, Jeong." Momo croaked out, her voice slightly panicked as her body froze. "Tell me you aren't fucking rutting."

Jihyo froze, her strap buried to the fucking hilt in Momo. She gasped at the sensation, getting another strong hit of Jeongyeon’s scent. Jihyo had a slightly panicked look on her face as she looked at the girl behind her.

“Jeongyeon?” Jihyo asked.

The alpha only let out a snarl in reply. Great, Momo thought, becoming aware of everything again. The signs were all there earlier, Jeongyeon was acting a lot more mean than usual, a lot more possessive. Momo had just chalked it up to them not fucking like this in a little bit, blamed it on Jihyo working the both of them up. She had been too blinded with her own feelings to notice that Jeongyeon was causing them to be worse- anytime her rut neared, Momo was even hornier than usual and vice versa for Momo’s heats. Which probably explains why she went out of her way to flirt with everyone, why she wanted to be fucked so relentlessly so damn badly.

“Jeong- talk to us, please.” Jihyo said firmly.

There was another, clearly annoyed, growl from behind Momo. Jeongyeon’s teeth met her neck again, scraping across her mark, sending hot sparks of pleasure through her body. Jeongyeon’s hands circled her front, holding the omega against her tightly, before she took a deep breath, trying to ground herself.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t realize how close it was. I got too worked up-” Jeongyeon muttered, bucking her hips again. Her voice was strained, her body suddenly much warmer than usual. “I- fuck, everything hurts.”

Momo grunted, falling limp in her arms. As much as it embarrassed her to feel like she had to fix it, that she had to be the solution to Jeongyeon’s stupid problem, her instincts still won over. She was still an omega, after all. And her stupid, dumb mate was in pain. And her stupid, dumb brain told her to fix it.

“What do you need, baby?” She whispered, craning her head so her neck was fully exposed to Jeongyeon, letting the alpha greedily suck on her mating mark. It was much more irritated now, her scent glands suddenly swollen and itchy, reacting to her mate’s rut. Momo hissed through her teeth, her eyes nearly rolling to the back of her head from how much it hurt.

“I need- I need you, Momo-“ Jeongyeon said between heavy breaths, grinding up against the younger girl, earning another whimper from her. “You smell so fucking good. Need my omega.”

Jihyo shifted, catching the pair’s attention. She was getting ready to pull out, but Jeongyeon stopped her by grabbing her arm.

“Need my beta, too. Need both of you with me. Please.” She whined.

Jihyo huffed, rolling her eyes, but didn’t move. She stayed pressed so deeply inside the omega, grinding her hips into hers in rhythm with Jeongyeon. Typical Jihyo.

“What should we do, baby?” Jihyo asked, finally looking up to lock eyes with Momo.

Momo was truly beside herself at that point. Jeongyeon was fucking rutting, practically trying to re-open the scarred mark on her neck each time she bit down. Jihyo, who had the smuggest expression on her face, was still clearly gunning on making her cum despite barely making an effort. The feeling of it all was just ridiculous. It felt so fucking good to be used like this, to service her mates. Pleasure and pain were completely blinding her by then, but it felt so fucking good. She didn’t care what they did anymore. The only thing she wanted was to be used- for them to keep doing exactly what they had been doing. Punishing her.

“Keep fucking going.” Momo said, still making eye contact with Jihyo. “Don’t stop. Neither of you have finished yet- this is still a punishment. Use me, but don’t make me cum.”

Jihyo nodded, whispering out a few panicked “okay”s as she started to move again. Jeongyeon was almost too busy drowning herself in Momo’s scent to notice JIhyo had started moving again, but the moment her brain caught up with her body, she was back at it, even harder than before. Momo was beside herself again- her body was trembling, broken whines spilling from her lips each time her mates thrusted into her. Jeongyeon’s movements were desperate, her mind clearly clouded with the need that came with her ruts, but Jihyo’s were calculated, the beta practically grinning each time she hit the exact spot she knew would make Momo see stars. And fuck, she was already starting to see them.

“Ji- alpha.” Momo whimpered as Jihyo purposefully dragged the tip of her strap against her g-spot. “I’m- I’m so close.”

Jihyo grinned as she pushed in again, in perfect time with Jeongyeon’s thrust, earning another squeak from the poor omega.

“Already, baby?” Jihyo cooed, her pace unrelenting. “Can’t hold on until we finish like you said you would?”

Momo scrunched her face, her eyes glued shut as she shook her head. Jeongyeon let out another pained growl as she continued to fuck up into her sloppily. She had finally managed to break Momo’s skin, the scar that she left long ago now throbbing with pain as it was opened up again. Momo’s neck felt swollen, angry- pulsing each time Jeongyeon licked and sucked at it, irritating it even further. Jihyo pressed back in, huffing with amusement at how Momo’s body reacted to it. It was so much. Momo had no fucking idea how her body hadn’t just seized by then, but fuck. She wasn’t sure if the wetness on her neck was Jeongyeon’s spit or her own blood. She didn’t want to know. Despite that, though, she was still leaking slick out, and the sounds of her mates fucking her were downright disgusting.

And to make matters even fucking worse, she could feel the base of Jeongyeon’s knot starting to press against her each time the alpha rutted her hips up.

“Hyo- Jihyo.” Jeongyeon grunted out through clenched teeth. “Need to knot her- pull out.”

Jihyo pouted.

“But I’m not even close-“

“I don’t care.” Jeongyeon growled, using her feet for leverage to press herself up, her knot now fully swollen against Momo’s ass. “She’s mine first. Give me room to- fuck, it hurts not being in her, Jihyo. Please.”

Jihyo didn’t stop. In fact, she went even fucking harder. Momo had no say in the matter, really. Her body was limp again, her brain overwhelmed by Jeongyeon’s stupid rut pheromones, but it felt so good. She couldn’t complain, really.

“I wanna finish first, Jeong. Then you can-“

“Then use her fucking mouth, I don’t care. Just- move, oh my god move.”

Momo barely had time to process what was happening. Suddenly, Jihyo did pull out, and Momo whined at the emptiness, her arms reaching out to try and pull the beta back in. Before she really knew it, she was flipped onto her knees, her chest pressed against the bed, and Jeongyeon had pulled out, too. But quickly, before she even had time to complain, Jeongyeon filled the place that Jihyo had been, sinking in right up to her knot with a moan of relief as she held onto Momo’s hips.

“All good, Momoring?”

Momo looked up finally to see Jihyo sitting in front of her against the pillows, her legs spread. She’d taken off the strap, giving Momo the perfect view of her glistening folds. Her voice was as sweet as the honey scent that radiated from her core, and it drove Momo absolutely wild with need. She nodded weakly, and Jihyo smiled softly down at her.

“Then be a good girl and make me cum, baby.” Jihyo whispered. “Use that pretty mouth of yours.”

That was all Momo needed to hear. She nodded as she shifted herself up just enough so that she could have a better angle before diving right in, dragging her tongue through Jihyo’s center before focusing on her clit. Jihyo’s hand found the back of her head, her fingers once again tangled in her dark locks, gripping tightly. At that, Jeongyeon finally started to move again, rutting her hips into Momo, practically grinding her knot against her entrance.

The feeling of it all made Momo’s body feel loose, jelly-like. Her neck throbbed with pain, but a good kind- the same kind she felt after Jeongyeon bit her the first time around. She did her best to focus on her job, on getting Jihyo off, but all of her senses were overwhelmed. The taste of the beta on her tongue, the sound of Jeongyeon’s needy whimpers, the feeling of the wetness against her face and the intrusion of Jeongyeon’s cock so deep inside of her, the scent of both of them mixing together. Tea and honey- her entire world.

“Momo- Momo.” Jeongyeon cried out, her hips stuttering. “Need to- please, need to knot you. Please.”

Momo whined against Jihyo’s core, the vibrations earning a low groan from the beta. Her grip on Momo’s hair tightened. It hurt. Jeongyeon thrusted again, smoother due to just how much slick Momo was producing. It was good. One thing after another, all of it building off of the last, amplifying everything Momo felt tenfold.

Fuck.

That’s when she realized Jeongyeon’s knot was about halfway in. She was at the point of no return. Panicked, she pulled away from Jihyo, an anxious cry slipping out of her when Jeongyeon pulled out and pressed herself in again.

“Ji. Please- I’m-“ Momo felt practically feral as she pleaded with the beta. “W-Want her knot- gonna cum, please.”

It barely made any sense. Jihyo looked at her with so much pity.

“Do you deserve it?”She asked, pressing Momo’s face back down. “You’ve been such a bad girl, Momo. I don’t think you deserve Jeongyeon’s knot. You didn’t even apologize for what you did.”

“Please-” Momo whined against her core. “Please I’ve been so good, let you use me- haven’t cum- please, alpha. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what I did- I’ll be good. Make me good. Please, I’ll do anything.”

Jihyo smirked down at her.

“Keep going, then. You cum when I say so.”

It was an impossible task. Jihyo knew damn well the moment Jeongyeon knotted her, it was over. And right then, it was so close- Jeongyeon was practically fucking her with it, her entrance burning from the stretch in the best way possible. And based on how hard Jeongyeon was going, she didn’t plan to stop. Her ruts were always the same. Breed, breed, breed. That’s the only thing her stupid alpha brain was telling her to do. Momo was fucked. Literally.

“Gonna fill you up.” Jeongyeon grunted out. “Gonna give you so many pups, Momo- fuck.”

Disgusting. Cringy, even. Momo wanted it more than anything.

“Jihyo, she’s gonna-“ Momo warned, her voice muffled from still being pressed against Jihyo’s core. “I can’t help it if she- once it’s in I’ll break. You know that- please, Jihyo.”

So much for being a good girl.

Jihyo huffed, rolled her eyes. She let Momo hang for just a moment, didn’t give her a reply as she watched the omega continue to service her the best she could while Jeongyeon was ruining her. But there was something else there in the look she gave Momo- something soft, gentle. Silently, she helped angle Momo’s face back up just slightly, encouraging the omega to focus on her clit.

“Just- right there. Suck on it, baby. Hard as you can, don’t let up.”

She was giving Momo a way out.

So, Momo did exactly what she was told. After giving it a few soft licks, she took the now reddened bundle of nerves in between her lips, sucking it harshly. The action caused Jihyo to groan, her body falling limp against the pillows as her hand stayed firmly on the back of Momo’s head.

“Yes, just like that.” Jihyo practically moaned. “Good girl, such a good girl, Momo.”

“Our good girl.” Jeongyeon grunted, thrusting in again. “Our good little omega.”

And that she was.

With a few more strong sucks, Jihyo fell over the edge. Her body seized up as she cried out, her head falling back as she finally released Momo’s hair. It gave the omega just enough time to adjust herself, rocking her hips back against the alpha that was still so franticly fucking into her.

“Momo- Momo.” Jeongyeon cried out. “Need to- I’m gonna-”

Momo couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Please, Jeong- Please!”

With one final, harsh thrust, Jeongyeon sank her knot in fully. The alpha let out a strangled growl as she fell forward, her teeth meeting Momo’s shoulder, clamping down and breaking the skin as she spilled inside her. Momo couldn’t help but practically scream. The sensation of being filled was enough- the coil that had been building in her stomach for what felt like hours by then finally fucking exploding as she came, too. It was too much for her body to handle- as soon as her peak evened out, everything went black.

When she came back to, she had been adjusted onto her side. Jeongyeon was pressed into her back, kissing at her shoulder. Clearly, she had been cleaned up already, the wetness at her neck almost completely gone. Jihyo was crawling back into the bed, holding something Momo couldn’t really make out in her hand. She tried to shift, but was immediately reminded she couldn’t go anywhere when she registered the feeling of Jeongyeon still being in her, her knot keeping her in place. She shuddered, whimpering.

“Hey, hey.” Jihyo whispered. “Easy, baby. Don’t move too much.”

Momo huffed and nodded, the pain finally catching up to her. Her neck hurt, and bad. Her scent glands were swollen, her skin practically screaming. Jihyo shifted so that she was on her knees in front of her, showing Momo that the object she had been holding was medicine.

“Jeong tore you up.” Jihyo said with a huff, cracking open the tube of ointment. “Your neck looks rough.”

“Sorry.” Jeongyeon grunted out, still preoccupied with mouthing at the new mark on Momo’s shoulder. “Don’t know what came over me.”

Jihyo reached over and flicked Jeongyeon’s ear, which made the older girl growl.

“Stupid alpha.” Jihyo scolded.

“Hey.” Jeongyeon hissed. “I can’t help it.”

“Oh, really? Is it that hard to not try to rip Momo’s throat out with your teeth?”

“I’m rutting, Jihyo. You’ll never know what that’s like- be grateful you won’t!”

“I’m glad I don’t. You’re a real dickhead, y’know that? You were so mean to me earlier.”

“Yah- I didn’t mean it!”

Momo rolled her eyes incredulously, letting them go at it. Leave it to those two to start fighting now, of all fucking times. Typical Jeongyeon and Jihyo. They continued to bicker as Jihyo carefully spread the ointment onto Momo’s neck. It hurt for a moment before settling in, easing most of the pain she was feeling. She could finally relax, her body going loose as her alpha wrapped her arm around her center, holding her tightly against her.

“But you did so good, Momo.” Jeongyeon said softly. “You took it like a champ. I’m sorry I…”

Her voice trailed off. Momo shook her head.

“‘S okay, Jeong. Really. I enjoyed it, every second of it. It was so good. Are you still rutting?”

Jeongyeon shifted slightly, angling her hips up so she pressed deeper in Momo. Momo grunted at the feeling, too spent to do anything but just let it happen.

“Can’t tell right now.”

Momo’s neck throbbed again. It was different, though. Clearly, it wasn’t from the pain. It felt comforting, but still on edge. It was how Jeongyeon was feeling.

“I think you are. Just try to get some sleep.”

Jeongyeon hummed out a reply. Jihyo finally moved to set the medicine on the nightstand, shifting back so that she laid down in front of Momo.

“You did so good for both of us, Momo.” The beta whispered softly, leaning in to kiss her. “So, so good for us.”

Momo preened at their words, a sense of accomplishment blooming in her chest. Jihyo kissed her lips a few more times before moving down, gently kissing at her neck. It hurt for just a moment before evening out, a wave of emotions washing over her as Jihyo scented her, marking her claim on her in the only way she really ever could. Jeongyeon was pressed against her shoulder, nosing at the skin. It was intimate, calming in a way Momo needed it to be. Having both of her mates with her like this after a rough scene was worth it, always would be. They took such good care of her.

“Love you. Both of you.” Momo whispered, half asleep.

“Love you, too, Momo.” Jeongyeon whispered.

“So, so much.” Jihyo added. “Our perfect girl.”

And really, that was all Momo wanted to hear. Breaking the rules had its perks, obviously.

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Guilt Tripping - Yan! Diluc

Yandere Diluc x Fem! Reader

part 1 of the “Baby Trapping” series

Warnings: Toxic relationship, general yandere themes, guilt tripping (I think), emotional manipulation, slight victim blaming (I think?), drugging, implied future physical violence (Not towards reader), possessive and obsessive thoughts and behavior, overprotectiveness, overbearing actions, controlling actions/mindset, unhealthy and toxic mindset, paranoia, implied Yandere! Albedo (Towards a different reader of perhaps the same mini-series of this).

Not sfw warnings: Baby trapping, dub-c0n/non-c0n, unprotected sEx, cumming inside without permission, unconsensual and unethical use of aphrodisiacs, vaginal fingering, clothed grinding, loss of virginity (both parties and totally didn't forget to add this warning until now)

Diluc is straight up gaslighting himself in this. He’s aware of how awful he is but keeps justifying it lmao.

Please tell me if I missed any warnings that are needed.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT condone any of the toxic behavior and thoughts that may take place in this work of fiction. None of this should be romanticize or even considered normal as it is very toxic and very dangerous. If you find yourself in such a situation, please seek help if able to.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

WARNING: DUE TO TUMBLR’S SHITTY TAGGING SYSTEM, NOT EVERY TRIGGER WARNING WILL BE TAGGED, SO PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS THAT ARE WRITTEN ABOVE. THANK YOU.

MINORS AND AGLESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. THANK YOU.

Unedited.

Word count: 5134k

===

Diluc was aware that he could be… overbearing, at times. He’s aware that his presence can be suffocating, that he can be a bit delusional at times, and that he’s a bit controlling when it comes to you. But be doesn’t mean to do that on purpose – you just manage to bring out both the worse and the best out of him.

Whether or not you’re aware of that fact is up for debate.

He’s been preparing for the day you snap and talk back, or to take some ‘much needed’ space from the relationship. He can’t deny that your sanity is slowly withering away the more you deal with him. Again, he doesn’t mean to make you so stressed.

He just wants what’s best for you, as long as you come back into his arms. There are understandings at times, where you listen instead of charging away like a bull. He knows that you know he cares deeply for you, loves you to the moon and back. That he’d be willing to do almost anything for you.

Anything but this.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

One sentence, five words, is all it takes for his words to come crashing down around him. ‘I need a break’ implies you’ll be back after a week or so. It’s happened once or twice throughout your entire two years of your relationship. And it never lasted more than a week, max.

Diluc can feel the thin thread snapping like a nose around a neck. He swears that the world comes to a halt at your words, seeing nothing but white. Is he undergoing shock? Perhaps he heard you wrong. Yeah, that’s it – you must have said something else. A prank maybe? Or maybe you mixed up your words.

“What… what do you mean?” He hates the way his voice cracks, how shaky his hands become, even when they’re clenched hard enough to snap metal into two. Your facial expression doesn’t show any signs of playfulness.

There’s nothing playful about this situation.

You let out a sigh, fingers massaging your temple. “I said… I’m breaking up with you. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I can’t deal with you anymore.” Your voice cracks, and there’s a silent sob. There’s a huff, an intake of air.

You’re trying your best not to break down in front of him. And he’s doing the same, fists clenching and unclenching as he thinks of something to say. What should he say? That you can’t leave? It’ll only make things more complicated, making you hostile towards him.

He can’t have that. He just can’t. but even so, he finds himself about to utter those words out loud. He bites his tongue.

“…I thought I was good to you. While… I do understand that I can get overbearing at times… I thought I was a good lover to you regardless of.” He tries to keep himself in check. Diluc was nothing but a good gentleman in your eyes, so he acts as such. Although, that illusion may be gone now.

“That’s the problem! You think you’re a good boyfriend. But you’re not. you’re so… overbearing and controlling. I can’t even talk to people you don’t approve of!” Your own thread had seemingly snapped, leaving nothing more than rage behind. Quite, dull rage that’s too exhausting to come out at once.

“You say it’s for my own good… that I need your protection…”

“I never said that- “

“You implied it. Every. Single. Time. you always imply it.”

There’s nothing but silence. There’s a guilty conscience. He can’t ignore it, but he won’t address it. Because that means he’ll have to let go. And he won’t, not even in death, where hell will surely drag him down. He’ll drag you if he has to.

“We can… let’s just talk about this, okay? No need to make any rash decisions.” He’s talking out of his ass right now. “It’s… been a stressful week. It’s late and we both got out of work not too long ago. Let’s just… how about you come over?”

You don’t say anything, not at first. A glimmer of hope. Yes, everything will go back to normal, over a glass or two, ending with you being a whimpering mess as he grinds against you. Just like always.

“No. I can’t… I won’t do that. It always has the same outcome anyway. We never ‘talk’, you just sweet talk your way out, and it ends with some type of sexual activity.”  You shake your head, taking a step back. He takes a step forward.

It feels wrong for you to stand so far away. Alien. You should be next to him, no, in his arms as he soothes you. Reality and fantasy don’t mix well, he realizes. “Please,” he tries again, choking on air.

It can’t end like this. It can’t end at all.

“Diluc… I can’t. I just can’t. I know it may be hard for you to understand but, whether you realize it or not… you treat me like a doll. A pretty, fragile, glass doll.” You don’t look him in the eyes, probably can’t.

To be fair, it felt worse on your own end. You loved this man. You wanted to marry him. But it’s in past tense and you’re not sure if you can keep up this happy façade. He’s nothing but controlling at this point, overprotective, suffocating. You can’t live in denial anymore.

Another sigh, another sob. With every step he takes towards you, you take one back. There’s an invisible wall between you, too hard to shatter. At least completely.

“Hey… let’s talk again in a week. When the steam blows off, okay?” You try not to break, he sees it. The way your body tenses, the slight tumble. He makes an effort to not point it out. “Please?”

And you cave, breaking down, wailing like a child. You don’t move away, only flinching as he closes in on you, gently and slowly wrapping his arms around you. his grip on you is loose, not wanting to chase you away. Gentle, he must be gentle.

It’s always worked in the past. He just needs to tweak a few things to guarantee victory. Anything for you, no matter how shady it may be. His morals become dubious when it comes to you.

A few minutes pass before you answer.

“Alright.”

--

Truthfully, you didn’t want to go, your resolve going down the drain whenever it came to you. But you had already promised you would, weak in that moment. But he knew. He knew that you would eventually succumb to his wishes. It happens every time.

And it ends with heated kisses, hands exploring each other’s bodies, promises to wait for the full act after marriage huffed into your ears. Despite the bulge straining in his pants, hazy eyes that kept looking at your kiss swollen lips, he never did anything you were uncomfortable with. And for that, you were grateful. But it doesn’t excuse his other behavior.

Something didn’t feel right. You were nothing short of tense, weary of what’s to come. Would he try to pull something? Or procced to guilt trip you once more, as unknowingly as usual? You could never tell with him, despite dating for two years.

Two years and he became a different person.

No. Beneath that gentlemanly exterior lies a control, obsessive and possessive freak. And you fell for it, the charm, the words, the looks. You dug your own grave without even knowing. And now it’s time to dig your way out, no matter how painful it may be.

You just hope your resolve will stay strong.

It must.

--

Diluc was nervous. It was more common these days, a nervous Diluc. He can’t help it but to be nervous around you. You were just so pretty, adorable, irresistible. And there was a time where you thought the same, where you couldn’t even take your eyes off of him. And yet, you don’t anymore.

He’s aware why. It’s because of him. But you need to understand was for your protection. He has too many enemies, there’s too much danger in the outside world. Surly, you would come around eventually, right?

Wrong. He was so, so wrong. He should have kept up with the gentle approach, no matter the amount of years it might have taken. It’s not too late to restart… right?

Just act the way you always portrayed him as. His mask has slipped too much too quickly. And now, he needs to fix everything as quickly as possible. The question is how to.

He glances at the wine bottle. A little drug as curiosity of Sir Albedo… a new and up coming drug. An aphrodisiac is what he called it. It was still in its developmental stages, but harmless. He was even given the right dose.

A questioning look in the alchemist’s eyes, no concerns were voiced. Most likely thought it wasn’t his business. And besides… even the esteemed Alchemist Albedo Kreideprinz had skeletons in his closet. Likeminded people must stick together, right?

And thus, the aphrodisiac was handed to him under the table, and now in this ‘new’ and ‘unopened’ bottle of wine. The cork was a new one, the previous one hastily thrown into the trash, covered with other discarded things. Not a smooth cover-up, but one you wouldn’t notice. And, if you were to ask for juice, he even drugged that beforehand.

He flinches slightly when a servant comes up to him, announcing your appearance. He takes in a deep breath before grabbing the bottle and two glasses, making his way to the study. When he gets there, he pauses. Would he be able to pull this off?

If you do ask for it, he has your consent, right? Yes, you wanted to save yourself for marriage but…

He shakes his head, ridding himself of those thoughts. He’ll back down if he thinks about too much. So, he takes a deep breath, straightens himself. His feet feel heavy as he walks into the room. He keeps the door open.

“(name). You came.”

You jolt at that, whipping your head around to see his figure at the doorway.

“Yes… just for a bit. This isn’t a casual visit, after all.” You built a wall around yourself, trying to smile but failing. He doesn’t comment on it.

“Ah. I suppose that’s… right.” Awkward silence, your hands tightly clasping together. His own grip on the glasses and bottle are tight as well. Swiftly, he places the objects down on the table in front of you. Everything has to be perfect. This night needs to end on a good note.

“Wine?” he asks, eyeing the way your jaw tenses as you hesitate to answer. You want to say no, he can see it, feel it. And hopefully, you won’t. His legs are already shaking like a newborn foal’s.

“I… sure.” A quiet sigh of relieve, and he opens the bottle, a loud ‘pop’ echoing in the room. You don’t take your eyes off of it. You’re weary of him. And he doesn’t have the right to complain or even feel offended.

Because you were right to be weary. To be weary of him.

He pours you a glass and himself one. He’s going to take the drug with you. God, he’s already silently regretting this. Not because he’s tricking you (although that’s part of it), but because he’ll have to explain, in detail (something he dreads, but a favor is a favor) of the results. He hates himself for being used a test subject and ragging you into it.

He can’t feel bad, considering he was the one who chose this route.

“Thank you…” you say as he passes a glass to you. He sits in front of you, the plush chair soft against him. He takes a sip.

“So… about our relationship… do you truly want to end it? We can work through this together.” He croaks out, trying his best not to ramble. He takes a deep breath, calming his nerves. He can do this.

“… I’m not sure if this relationship is savable. Two years and you’ve just gotten… worse. Much worse than you have gotten better. It’s like you’ve been possessed.” He can see your eyes water up, but you don’t let them fall.

He wants to wipe them away.

“What do you mean?” He’s never felt so scared in his life. He hates this. He hates himself. “It’s just… I know I can get overbearing, and I promise that I don’t do it on purpose-“

You cut him off, “That’s the problem. You don’t do it on purpose. It’s harder to resent you that way.”

Resent him? What do you mean by that?

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do. You’re… you used to be a good boyfriend. Someone I wanted to marry… but you’re not that same person anymore. And I’m not sure if we can fix this… if you can fix yourself. I’m not a therapist… yet you treated me as one for years.”

Your shoulders slack and you don’t make an effort to look at him. You don’t make an effort to drink the wine either.

He can feel his heart breaking. What should he do? What can he do? Crying (a rare sight indeed) won’t do anything. It’ll only prove you right if he cries and begs for you to reconsider. He needs you to drink the wine. A good amount of it.

He takes another swing, enough to the point the glass is almost empty. Too much at once, he hasn’t even eaten yet. He wants to eat you. But not when you’re crying like this.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that I was that… inconsiderate.” Ever so slowly, he takes small steps towards you. You don’t resist when he gets on his knees, gently placing his head on your lap. His arms wrap around your legs. And, almost as if it was natural, your hand comes town to thread fingers through his hair.

Even when you ‘resent’ him, you still comfort him. You really were too good for him. But it’s because of that he doesn’t want to let go. No. he’d never let you go. He’ll drag you to hell if he has to.

“… To think the esteemed Diluc would beg on his knees… hah,” a humorless laugh that shakes him through his core. You sound tired, so, so tired. You’re really going to give up on him. Was he really that bad? Sure, maybe he overshared, at times, and was a bit controlling, but…

He never hit you. Never raised his voice at you.

He’s in denial. He doesn’t want to admit to his mistakes right now. He’ll do it (probably) after you two make up. He’ll do it once you say you won’t leave, that you won’t give up on him, on the relationship. You’re all he has left.

His father’s dead, his ‘brother’ is a spy, he can’t really get along with anyone on an emotional level. Anyone except you. You know this, so why are you putting him through this? Can’t you see he needs you?

God helps the poor soul would dare take you away.

“… I’m sorry. I really am,” useless, he’s so useless right now. Helpless, he hates himself, he hates you. “I… can’t lose you. I love you, you know that, right?” Like he wasn’t the one pushing you away with his behavior and actions.

He’s a horrible person, a dreadful and emotional abusive boyfriend. The naked eye can’t see it, but a trained one can. Likeminded people can. The victim can.

“Diluc… sit down, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick,” you run your fingers through his red mop of hair before retreating it. No, no, no, you can’t do that. You just can’t.

You have to drink the wine. You need to understand he’s protecting you. You need to understand he needs you. So, stay, please.

Don’t make things even more complicated.

“… do you love me?” He looks up, eyes glossy and he watches as your strong façade crumble. He was your weakness as you were his. You’re perfect for each other, however toxic the relationship may be.

“I… I don’t know anymore. I feel like I love you, but I know I shouldn’t.” Shaking your head, you gently push at his shoulders. The effort is weak, almost meaningless. He gives a squeeze before getting up and returning to his seat.

It’s when he sits down, head falling into his hands, when you take a swing. He hears you slam the glass on the mahogany wood. Hope lights up in his chest, but even so, it feels so wrong. But he needs to do this. For him. For you.

How selfish of a person he was.

“… I can’t promise I won’t fall back into the habit, but –“

“You said that last time. And here we are, again. You say you’ll do better, that you’ll listen. Sure, you do, but only for a week. And then the cycle repeats.” You sigh out, now crying, finally breaking down despite everything.

Sobs, ugly sobs that he hates to hear. He’s not sure when he got up, or how long he’s been hugging you, but he knows that you need comfort. Maybe not from him, but he’s the only one here anyway. The servants are outside, cleaning the yard, tending to the grapes, shooing of pests.

Just you and him. No-one will hear, and even if they did… who are they to question their boss? Money talks.

You stay like that, for a while. Crying in his arms as he strokes your hair. He’s not sure when you had stopped, and completely forgotten about the drug.

He only remembers it when his body starts to heat up. And the same must be said for you, as you’re quivering in his grasp. The way you quiver whenever he drags you across his crotch, erection making contact with your clothed pussy.

Like right now, your hips rolling against his as he practically dragged you to the couch in the study once you started to kiss out of pure lust. You’re panting above him, eyes shut tight. Maybe you didn’t want to see him. He hates it, but that’s okay. As long as you’re here, with him, and not thinking of another man.

“Fuck… my body’s hot. I’m scared yet I can’t stop… did you put something in the drink?” You question him, voice broken and breathy as you keep rolling your hips. Harder, faster, more friction, you need him as much as he needs you. He’ll get you, and you’ll have him.

Like it’s supposed to be.

“Are you… mmh… that weary of me?” You’re far too gone to properly hear him, chasing pleasure above answers. His gloved fingers tug at your skirt, wanting it off. He wants to see you bare. Patience... patience, he tells himself.

A squeal, mouth open and he can’t help but kiss you. saliva everywhere, any pretense of a breakup gone. For now. And yet you both don’t care, delving into the pits of pleasure that’ll never be enough. He bites your lips hard enough to draw blood, you claw at his neck deep enough to see crimson.

You hurt and take, hurt and take. You break his heart, he’ll break your mind on his cock. Just… be good.

“Diluc… wedding… I want to wait – oh! – but… ah… not sure if I can…” you’re groping yourself, thumb ribbing at where your nipple would be. Too many clothes, hot, clit throbbing while grinding against him like there’s no tomorrow. Diluc takes this chance to tease you, just a bit.

“Wedding… you still want to marry me?” There’s a slight teasing to it, and he proceeds to kiss your neck. Gently, gently, so gentle you want more. He wants to drive you crazy. “But, of course, if you want it now, I won’t say no…”

Another moan, another messy kiss. Your lips are raw by now, and you’re not sure when he dragged the front of your shirt down, sucking on the bare skin before him. He bites your neck, leaving marks, he gropes your breasts, your hands now tugging at his hair.

He hisses at the sting, but it only drives him to do more. His free hand dives under your dress, the skirt of it wrinkled now.

“Diluc… please, fuck, I need you,” you breathe out, grinding against his hand as he teases you through your underwear. Slowly, he brings his hand back, using his teeth to take his glove off. Almost, he’s almost there. He needs to loosen you up. Hopefully, hopefully this drug will help with the pain.

Ah. Blood.

He needs to do this in the bedroom, easier to change the sheets.

--

You’re naked in no time, and despite the drug running through your veins like fire, you’re still scared. Very scared, and he feels so horrible about it. and yet, yet he can’t stop himself for shit. He’s horrible, shitty, controlling, obsessive, possessive, and desperate. Paranoid to a fault, he plans on tying you to him via family.

It’s hard to raise a child on your own. Reputation is important, and everyone would lose respect for you, for a good while at first. And besides… they would know who the father was. If they inherit his features, be it the red hair or ruby eyes, they’ll know. They’ll blame one of you, both of you, taking one side or the other.

Thus, it’s just overall easier to stay together, avoiding controversy. A horrible and risky plan. But you would need the support, the funds, the father. It’s harder, nearly impossible to run away from him in such a state.

“Hey… it’ll be okay. I’ll take it slow, alright?” He reassures you, smiling down at you gently. He’s always imagined you like this – a panting mess, lips kiss swollen, hair sprayed around his pillow and your hair. Bite marks everywhere, nipples tendered from being sucked on so much.

He’ll make a mental note to be more gentle next time. But for now, he trails down his hand, fingers ghosting over your burning skin. Shaky breaths, and he can’t take his eyes off of the way you stare downwards. He’s naked too, his own hickies littering his neck like a necklace.

“G-gentle…,” you breathe out, legs shaking in both fear and anticipation. You can’t wait, and neither can he. So he doesn’t, tracking your slick slit once before slowly entering. A gasp, and h looks up to make sure you weren’t in too much pain.

Instead, he’s met with the sight of you biting your lips, pleasure written all over your face. The drug works, it’s helping with the pain. Making things far easier than he thought it would be. He’ll make sure to thank Albedo to the moon and back.

“Diluc…” He’s brought back to reality when you whimper his name, and he softly shushes you. If you say his name like that one more time, he might just slip in without any prep. Without any consideration.

“Shh… there’s no need to rush. Let’s try to take our time, okay?” He kisses your forehead, finger curling slightly inside you. The way you arch your back is heavenly, the drug making you far more sensitive. “I’ll take good care of you. Promise.”

Nodding, you relax, allowing him to add a second finger. It feels rushed despite his words, but you don’t comment on it. You can’t, not when he’s curling them oh so deliciously. And he knows this, he’s not completely lost in lust just yet. He needs to drown you in pleasure, drive you crazy with it before he succumb to his own desire completely.

Just a bit more.

The squelching echoes in his room, bouncing off the walls. His ribs had become a drum, his heart the stick. Small, needy breaths that leave your lips, crying out when he curls his fingers at a certain angle. Oh. He found it.

Your g-spot.

He’s heard of it, and thought it was rubbish at first. Until Adelinde smacked his head when he suggested such a thing. The Head Maid made sure to educate him on sex that day, showing diagrams and pictures, along with books written about the subject. He’s almost entirely forgotten about it.

“There?” he asks, repeating the action once more. You nod your head several times and in quick succession – too lucid to properly beg, too desperate to fully think it thoroughly. “Such a needy little thing,” a third finger elicits a hiss from you, causing him to pause. He waits until you give him the green light.

“It – it feels weird… but good at the same time. Is this normal?” Croaking, you’re croaking out sentences now, and Diluc resists the urge to kiss you until you run out of breath. Your fingers grasp at his shoulders, trembling slightly. He can’t tell if it’s from fear or pleasure.

For his own sanity, he hopes it’s the latter.

“I’m… not sure. I think it is. Just tell me if it’s too much, and I’ll slow down.”

He didn’t say he would stop.

Diluc sees the worry in your eyes, the questions he won’t answer, and he feels guilty. It’s far too late to stop, and even if you were to ask him of it, he wouldn’t be able to. So he gives you the illusion of choice, and from the way your eyes travel down to where he’s fingering you, he can only guess you chose to ignore the reasoning in your head. What a good girl you are for and to him. Like always.

“Diluc… Diluc…” your eyes shut tight, breathing heavier as he fastens his pace, fingers pumping in and out while curling all the same. You need this too, right? He can’t force you if you were the one who asked for it.

Your belly tightens, and hips grind against the hell of his palm. You’re almost there, he thinks. You’re becoming wild, all pretense of rationally gone with the wind. He’s there, he’s there, you’re there, shivering in the palm of his hand. Like you should be.

“Ah, ah, fuck!” One more buck of your hips and he feels something wet. Upon looking down, he notices something red, very thing and small, mixed with a clear liquid. Did you cum? He feels bad for making you bleed already*.

Your chest heaves, and for a moment, he’s afraid you’ll come back to your sense. You’ll hate him for sure. But his own body is burning, cock twitching, and he’s going to die if you resist. Please, just make everything simple and easy. Please, for both of your sakes.

He gives you time to recover despite the urge to fuck you silly. Patience, patience, at least pretend to be a gentleman he tells himself. Anything and everything for you. Except letting you go.

“Do you need a breather?” gently, gently he removes his fingers, trying his best to treat you nicely. He tries not to grit his teeth when you nod your head. He’s already doing something awful. He needs to make you comfortable, at the very least.

A few minutes before you calm down, laying flat on your back, hands leaving him and choosing to grip his sheets instead. You’re distancing yourself from him. A bit lucid, but enough to resist.

“Alright… please be gentle,” closing your eyes, your arousal is still there, you still need him as badly as he needs you. He doesn’t wait a second to hover above you properly. His place, this is his place, you’re his and will always be his. You signed your faith the moment you appeared in his life.

“Gentle…,” he tells himself, taking in a deep breath. It stings you when he pushes in, slowly and gentle like he promised. Hands grip your hips, and he leans back on his heels a bit. You gasp, from pleasure mostly, and he stills. Be a gentleman in appearance, at least.

One second, two seconds, and at ten he starts to move. a deep sigh of pleasure from you both, yours higher than his. The tone was different compared to when you dragged your hips across his, clothes separating you. But now, now he can feel everything – the thought of a condom never having crossed your mind once. Good, everything is sailing smoothly.

“You’re, ngh, tight… fuck, you’re driving me crazy angel.” Unexpectedly, you mewl at the nickname, and without meaning too, he gives a hard thrust. Fuck, you’re going to be the death of him. One thrust, two thrust, and you’re begging him to fuck you harder at the fifth one, legs wrapping around his waist and hands clawing at his chest.

He loves you like this; he wants you remain so needy for him. “Diluc! Fuck, don’t stop!” Both blood and slick cover his cock and make a mess on his bed. He’ll have to give you a warm towel after this, a glass of water. And a lie about cumming inside.

“It feels good, fuck why did we wait so long?” His hips can’t stop moving as he questions you. You don’t answer, you can’t when you’re moaning like a whore. And he loves it, he loves the fact that only he can make you this way. He loves the fact that he’ll be your first and last partner.

He might hurt a man who would dare to attempt to do the same.

It doesn’t last long, neither of you do. He makes sure to circle your clit with his thumb, wanting to bring you more pleasure. You needed to finish with him. You needed to be distracted from the feeling of his cum painting your womb white.

And when he does, he lets out a low groan, your squeal music to his ears. he holds you tight until his balls are empty. And ever so slowly pulls out, careful to not alarm you. His goal was done, and hopefully, this’ll be enough to get you pregnant.

If not, he’ll come up with other plans.

“I love you…” one of his hands comes down to wipe away the sweat from your forehead. Your skin is sticky, eyes dazed. It’s a sight he’ll never forget.

You don’t answer, not at first.

“I… I love you too.”

A soft peck and he’s up to soak a towel in warm water. You’re too tired to check your lower half, eyes closing against your will. But it’s okay, it’s Diluc after all. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything… right?

As for Diluc… he’s already coming up with baby names.

 ===

 A/N:* - tmi but the very first time I got fingered, I bleed a bit lmao. I don’t know how it is for everyone else, so I just used my own experiences. Seriously though, acting like Diluc in this fic is fucked up. Please don’t do that.

[globaloppaaa]

full heart, empty stomach

ft. yoon jeonghan

a/n: i’ve tried editing these as much as i can because MAN these stories are old lmao. However they aren’t entirely proof read!

warnings: slightly suggestive (bc jeonghans’ a menace) but reader doesn’t want that rn 🙄, otherwise pure fluff and appreciation

Dawn's light seeps through closed blinds, neither crisp nor a clear morning as droplets of rain mist themselves above homes and busy streets. If it weren't for the warm figure embracing your side, this morning would have begun much less desirable.

You shift in your spot, sheets lazily tangled between your legs. Carefully you unravel yourself as to not wake him, just cherishing the moments like these where you can embrace how truly peaceful he looks. Even as he’s lightly snoring with his mouth ajar. Gently, you place a knuckle from underneath the blankets to his face, stroking a soothing line across his jaw. The boy's head subconsciously nuzzles into your palm, feeling it's warmth radiate throughout his entire body. Within a few seconds his face heats into a soft blush, and if he were awake he'd scold himself for being so vulnerable, trying to hold back the thoughts of how easily he comes undone for you. From a single stroke of your palm you make him go shy, as he usually does whenever he spends his time with you. It opposes his state of ridicule and teasing, and would most certainly ruin his reputation if any of his friends were to see. However when he’s with you, Jeonghan really doesn’t mind.

He gently twitches his eyelids, pinpointing his gaze into yours.

"Hi Hannie."

“Hi sweetheart”.

He guides his arms around your waist, encasing you in the cocoon shape he's formed himself into. His eyes close once again, blindly caressing your nose with his own as you brush a few stray strands from his forehead, tucking them behind his ears. He hums at the contact, intertwining his leg in yours and you let out a little laugh, honeyed by the mornings raspiness on the tip of your throat.

God, those little laughs are what he lives for.

You dip your head a little more into his chest, taking in the way his sweatshirt releases his natural cologne with every caress. When he hugs himself around you, his heartbeat lulls you back into that light state of peace, forbidding to shelter anyone else's heart like he does for you. Jeonghans’ mind and soul are overflowing by his love, unable to take in anymore from anyone else.

His stomach on the other hand, was another story.

With a loud grumble and a quiet groan from himself, you snicker, leveling your face with his.

"Could we get something to eat?" he asks, convincing a part of you with his cheesy smile and gleaming eyes

"I don't really wanna move.” you half-innocently pout.

"I know you don't baby, and you look so pretty right now. But you know what else looks pretty? A nice stack of pancakes and syrup."

You continue to lay in his arms, stuffing your head deeper into the crook of his neck. It sets off the smallest tingle to his skin, inspiring him to coyly comeback at your idling.

"Or I could take a bite out of you." He smirks rather confidently, tracing his fingers lower against the dips in your hips. He can feel your face contort against his skin, and suddenly your motivation to start the day skyrockets.

You glimpse his joyous smirk appearing as you release yourself from his arms.

"Anything else with your pancakes?" You ask humorously, a raspy tone still in your voice as you approach the stairs. Jeonghan laughs as he follows your figure through the doorway, running his eyes down your body clothed in his large and longly-discarded t-shirt.

You’re his and he’s yours he relishes. The thought alone gives him all the energy he needs each day. Raising from your bed, he hurriedly tags along to meet you again, just as he always find himself doing.

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[kaminocasey]

Not That Bad (one shot)

Summary: You get shot. Kanan gets pissed. Pairing: Kanan Jarrus x Reader

WC: 500

A/N: I wrote this back in January and thought I was gonna do something more with it but I'm honestly not sure. It's not great BUT its better than nothing while I work on this Mereel x Reader x Ordo fic lmao.

“Kanan, it’s not that bad.” You grunt in pain.

He’s dragging you back onto the Ghost as Zeb and Sabine shoot at Lock Syndicate who just happens to be shooting at you. His arm is slung around your waist, your arm around his neck, and he’s holding your hand. In normal circumstances, you’d probably be flustered. 

This rescue mission hadn’t gone all that well, and you’d managed to get yourself shot in the shoulder. 

“Hate to break it to you, but it is, actually.” He glares at you as he nods for you to lift your shirt up.

The pain is definitely unpleasant, but you’ve been shot before. It’s an occupational hazard in this line of work. You’re used to it at this point. 

“Hold still.” His words are hard but his hands are soft against your skin as he holds your arm and applies bacta-spray to the front of your shoulder. 

His hands are always so warm, it makes you lightheaded just thinking about it. All of a sudden, you start to feel a little woozy and don’t realize you’re swaying until Kanan says “Woah, easy there.” and holds you up against himself so that you’re resting your head on his shoulder.

You notice him breathe in, subtly and you chuckle.

“Did you just sniff me?” You whisper.

You feel the ship hit hyperspace and then realize you hadn’t even noticed everyone else getting on board. 

“Your hair smells nice.” He shrugs against you. “Which is rather incredible despite the grime on all of us after that mission.” 

You laugh softly, sleepily as the pain starts to subside from the bacta.

And as if he could sense you closing your eyes, he gently helps you up from the booth and guides you to your bunk room that you share with Sabine, who happens to not be present at the moment, thankfully. You know she would give you a teasing glance. 

Kanan slowly guides you down to your bunk. “There you go.” 

“You were angry at me earlier.” You murmur.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” You turn your head toward him, finding him kneeling down next to you.

He rubs a hand over his face, as if he’s debating on being honest with you. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” He shrugs. 

“Yeah it does.” You trace your finger over the curve of his nose, smiling as you stop at his bottom lip. 

His lips part easily and his stare feels heavier. 

“I was angry because… the thought of losing you…” He whispers. “I… I don’t think I could handle it.” 

Oh. 

“Kanan-” You start but he just squeezes your hand.

“It’s okay. We can talk about it when you’re better rested.” He tells you, softly.

Exhaustion settles in your bones and while you really do want to talk about what Kanan just confessed, you know you need to rest. So you nod, and watch him start to leave.

“Kanan?” You call out, making him pause in the doorway to look back at you. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

And with that, you shut your eyes, letting sleep take hold of you.

TAGS: @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover

[crystalflygeo]

Sleepy n Drowsy Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: somno, half-dragon zhongli, wet dream, humping, a bit of nipple play , touching over clothes, pet names.

notes: Dedicated to/Inspired by @moraxsthrone . Honestly at this point we're just going back and forth sharing the horny zl braincell inspiring each other to write stuff and I love it lmao. Thank you hun for being such a precious friend and feeding me geo daddy content ehe. This one is very soft and loving aaaaaaaa

You stir a little in bed, pulling tighter at the thick dragon tail you’re clinging to. Your breathing still soft and paused, still asleep despite your squirming. Zhongli shuffles a bit as well and pulls you close, pressing your back flush against his chest. You sigh.

“…li…” A mumble.

Zhongli nuzzles his face against your neck, purring softly as a hand smooths across your hip. Much to his surprise you buck forward only slightly, your little nightgown riding up leaving only the soft cotton of your panties to brush against his scales. Even in your sleep, you shiver.

His long tail curls around you both, going over his leg but right between yours, straddled by your soft thighs. You let out a little sound that has Zhongli blinking away any remaining sleep, before you start to move again a little, slowly back and forth, rubbing your core against his tail.

His eyes narrow and he lets out a small amused smile. Oh? Is his little mate humping his tail?

“…hah…”

As moments go by it becomes more and more obvious, you’re searching for that delicious friction, breathy sighs and little groans escaping your parted lips as your lower body twitches, subconsciously chasing pleasure though barely brushing your clothed pussy on his scales.

He takes notice of a subtle dampness and the faint scent of your arousal invades his senses.

What kind of husband would he be if he doesn’t help you out, right?

Your breath hitches as one of his hands lovingly cups your breast, massaging it softly before his thumb rolls at your nipple over the fabric of your nightgown. His tail presses a little more insistently between your legs, rocking softly in languid and slow strokes.

“Mmmngh…”  

“Shhh darling, I’m right here.” He whispers against your skin, placing a kiss at you shoulder, a gentle calm to his touch and voice.

Another sigh and little whine from you as the dragon simply holds you there in his arms, nosing at the back of your neck and the top of your spine, his tail shivering slightly against you. His hand snakes under the silky fabric of your sleepwear and touches warm skin instead, rolling the perky nipple between thumb and index.

“Ahh..” Your brow furrows and you twitch and squirm. “…mmngh… m-more…” You murmur quietly, and Zhongli’s cock twitches in his pants.

Zhongli’s hand brushes past your stomach and your navel, fingers barely ghosting across your pussy as he pulls his tail away. Your head tips back and hips stutter forward when her circles your entrance through the cotton barrier, seeking out the warmth of his palm in a sleepy daze.

“Hmm… my love, so good to me.” He chuckles, the bleary sound permeating the thick air around you both. He nips at your neck, fangs barely brazing the skin as he teases you a little. The wet spot in your underwear growing noticeably larger and a soft keen leaves you when he brushes against your clit.

“Zhong… hnng”

He sighs deeply, rolling his hips to grind his bulge against your soft round ass. He groans at the feeling, deep and appreciative and your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Li…?”

“Hm? Finally awake my love?”

You tilt your head over your shoulder, drowsy, eyes half-lidded. “Mmhm… I was having a most delightful dream though...”

“I could tell.” He smiles back, effortlessly attractive in his disheveled dark locks, molten golden eyes, handsome features and deep hoarse voice. “Want to make it a reality?” His hand dips down your panties, barely brushing your slick folds.

A long low moan comes out before you can even register it, raw in it’s sheer need as your body shudders with desire. “Yes please Zhongli… breed me.”  

Oh, his grip tightens and his pupils widen to serpentine slits. “As you wish…” His warm breath caresses your ear.

[cantstoptheimagines]

Vodka’s Promise (JJ Maybank | Outer Banks)

Part Two

Summary — After a wild night at the Boneyard, you wake up in JJ’s bed.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Mentions of sexual activity but no actual smut; mentions of alcohol and drug use; cursing; hangovers; drunken love confessions; you will get secondhand embarrassment from the Reader and JJ being drunk (you’re welcome); friends to lovers; JJ being a clingy motherfucker (I can’t describe cuddling very well so just imagine some, like, aggressive, Pinterest aesthetic spooning or something, lmao); JJ’s dad isn’t here because our boy deserves some happiness; Reader is a pogue.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 2,215. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ This is inspired by certain lyrics in Lucy Spraggan’s song, “Last Night (Beer Fear)”.

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You groaned at the feeling of sunlight streaming through the open curtains of a window. The humid air made your skin feel warmer than usual. Not to mention, the pounding headache that was slowly making itself known.

You groaned, turning your head in order to shove your face into your pillow. Whatever happened at the Boneyard was not worth this kind of hangover.

You rubbed at your tired eyes and got up to take a much-needed shower. Or you tried to, at least.

You furrowed your eyebrows upon realizing your inability to move. Properly opening your eyes for the first time allowed you to understand why.

Maybe being in someone else’s room should’ve scared you, but it didn’t. Whose room it was definitely did though. Your eyes trailed over the familiar posters on the walls, the messy pile of clothes that were shoved into a corner, and the front yard that was visible through the room’s only window.

A quiet groan echoed in your ear, bringing your attention to the arms that were tightly wrapped around you. Another round of realizations began to overwhelm your mind.

The first one being the fact that, aside from the oversized shirt you had on, you were completely nude. The rest of your clothes were strewn about the floor.

One of the arms around you had taken refuge beneath your shirt, a hand resting comfortably on one of your breasts. The other was shoved beneath the pillow you had been using.

A body, one hundred percent bare, was pressed against you. The person’s chest was flush against the fabric of your shirt, which was probably why you were burning up.

A pair of legs had entangled themselves with your own. Soft, quiet snores filled your ears, barely muffled by the person’s face being tucked into your neck, hiding beneath a mop of blond hair.

What really made your mind piece together the events of the party from the previous night, however, was not only the anatomy pressed against your backside, but also the feeling of wetness between your thighs.

But the final nail in the coffin was an all-too-familiar red and grey hat. It sat on a nightstand, directly next to the bed. You had seen it nearly every day since you became friends with the other pogues. And it, much like the bedroom you were currently in, could only belong to one person.

Another rough groan resonated in your ear. The arms around you took a moment to wake up with some small stretches. The one hiding under the pillow decided to shift lower, wrapping around the front of your chest in a firm hold. That hand landed on your upper arm, nearly fully encircling you before fingertips began gently stroking your skin. The other, which was still tucked within your shirt, pulled your body even closer to the person’s chest.

Their foot slowly caressed your ankles. Your limbs became entwined further than they already were, if such a thing were even possible.

You felt their nose glide against the skin of your neck and closed your eyes at the sensation. Their lips pressed against you in a series of slow, tender kisses.

They trailed from your neck to your jaw until they finally came to your cheek, where they repeatedly kissed the same spot again and again. After a moment, the person returned to their hiding spot, shielding their appearance against your shoulder.

“Morning.”

Shit.

If the familiar bedroom or hat on the bedside table didn’t give it away, that voice certainly did.

JJ continued to soothe the skin of your shoulder with his fingertips. He clearly knew you were awake, nudging himself closer in an attempt to gain a response.

In an instant, you were reminded of how naked the two of you were, quickly muttering as you opened your eyes and shuffled out of his arms, “Bathroom.”

JJ’s hold reluctantly disappeared. His hands extended after you, trying to continue tracing your skin for as long as possible, until you were too far out of reach. You could feel his tired eyes burning into you, watching as you quickly slid on a pair of underwear before collecting the rest of your clothes from the previous night and leaving his room.

As soon as you made it to the bathroom, you put on the sweatpants that were being wrinkled by the overly tight grip of your hands. Your bra quickly followed, even though you had to take off your shirt and put it on again.

After that, you placed your hands on the sink, head down as feelings of nausea and recognition began to sink in.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fucking stupid, I swear—!”

“Hey,” came a voice.

You turned to find the bathroom door cracked open. JJ stood in the hallway, unable to see you as he waited for a response, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “yeah, I guess.”

There was a pause. You could hear JJ shuffling awkwardly in the hallway before he asked, “Can I come in?”

You sighed, sliding to the floor and hiding your face against your knees, “It’s your house. Do whatever you want.”

He seemed to hesitate, unsure if you wanted him to leave or not. Finally, after a few seconds of painful silence, he stepped inside. Thankfully, in a fresh pair of shorts. You listened to the quiet sigh that escaped him at the sight of you.

He sat next to you on the cool tile, and he said, “I—uh—I don’t remember much from last night.”

“Me neither,” you said, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze. “Last thing I remember doing is taking a cup from John B. Never again.”

JJ chuckled quietly, “Yeah, he gave me the same thing. He has shitty taste.”

“You got that right,” you smiled.

“He did send me a video a few minutes ago though,” said JJ, removing his phone from his pocket. “Apparently, you and I decided to take his phone last night.”

“Shit!” you laughed, covering your face as warmth crept beneath your skin. “I don’t even wanna know!”

JJ grinned at you, unlocking his phone and opening his messages from John B. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around your shoulders as you moved closer, allowing you to press yourself against his ribs, which you weren’t going to address any time soon. He tapped on the video and the audio began to fill the room.

There you stood, in perfect view of the camera on John B’s phone, in all your drunken glory. JJ was obviously the one behind the camera, filming as you laughed after spilling some of John B’s terrible alcohol.

Suddenly, JJ became visible as well, changing to the front camera to capture both of you in the shot. The two of you were in endless fits of giggles. Your faces were flushed and your eyes were bloodshot. Loud music played in the background as JJ stood behind you, wrapping an arm around your chest with a grin.

“Tell ‘em what you just said!” he shouted, bringing the phone closer. You didn’t even get a chance to speak before he began shaking you as his voice grew louder, words slurring heavily, “Tell ‘em!”

“I asked him to marry me!” you exclaimed, leaning back against JJ’s chest. “I asked JJ to be my forever bitch!”

“Got on one knee and everything!” beamed JJ.

The phone shook for a moment as he nearly caused the two of you to trip by pushing himself even further against your back. His arm moved from it place around your chest, instead traveling to your waist. His hand quickly disappeared beneath the front of your shirt.

“You hear that, John B?!” he continued. “This rack is mine—!”

“Oh my—!” you shrieked, forcing JJ to pause the video. “I can’t watch this anymore!”

JJ leapt to his feet, following you back to his room. His loud laughter trailed behind you the entire way, “C’mon, I wanna see the rest!”

“JJ, no!” you said, combing through the blankets on his bed in an effort to find your phone. “That’s so fucking embarrassing!”

“Nope!” he exclaimed, shoving you onto the blankets and crawling on top of you. “We started it, so we’re finishing it!”

“Dude!” you grunted, trying to adjust yourself beneath his sudden weight. “If I finish the video, will you leave me alone?”

He grinned down at you, “Depends on what’s in the video.”

You groaned, “Fine.”

JJ’s grin only widened after hearing your response. He finally rolled away to take up the space next to you instead. He held the phone for both of you to see before unpausing the video.

After JJ had laid claim to your breasts, you had apparently decided to take the next step. In the video, you turned, grabbed his cheeks, and pulled him into a heated kiss. He went along with your actions, moving his arm from your chest to wrap around your hips before groping a handful of your backside.

“Need you, J,” you muttered, pushing your chest flush against his. “Want your babies—“

You interrupted the video again with a loud groan. JJ let out another boisterous laugh at the humiliated expression on your face. You hid your face against his skin, and muttered, “I can’t believe I said that—“

“Shut up!” demanded JJ. “This is gold!”

It didn’t take long for him to eat his words. Through the phone, his drunken voice asked, “Gonna be my bad girl tonight?”

It was your turn to laugh as a wave of red covered JJ’s cheeks and spread to his ears, “We suck at sexy talk.”

“We really do,” he chuckled. “We must’ve completely blacked out from whatever John B put in those cups.”

“Guess so.”

The two of you fell into silence, continuing to watch the video, occasionally laughing at the stupid things you said to one another. At the party, your exchanges of physical affection had carried on for quite some time apparently. Aside from the music in the background, it had turned into a quiet moment between... friends. Not-Friends? You weren’t entirely sure anymore.

“I love you, J—”

Your eyes widened as the video abruptly cut off. The last frame was of JJ opening his mouth to reply. What he may or may not have said, you weren’t sure. And you were far too embarrassed to say anything.

“I hope I said it back.”

You blinked in surprise, taking a moment to fully comprehend what he had just told you. He set his phone aside, quietly waiting for you to continue the conversation. His arm wrapped around you and his fingertips reached down to trace patterns against your hip.

He shuddered when you followed suit, placing your hand against his bare stomach, given that he had abstained from putting on a shirt. Chills rose on his skin when your fingertips danced over his ribs. It nearly brought a smile to your lips when his free hand moved to rest on top of yours. He pressed it flat against his bellybutton, muttering something about being ticklish before closing his eyes.

“J?”

“Yeah?”

You felt like an idiot, but you asked him the question that had been burning through your mind since you woke up, “Do you think we just took our clothes off? Or did we actually have sex?”

“Oh!” he laughed, opening his eyes to look at you with an amused smile. “We definitely had sex, no question. Terrible as our dirty talk might’ve been.”

“John B’s never gonna let us live this down,” you groaned. “None of the pogues are.”

JJ huffed, entertained by your concern over your friends’ reactions, “Maybe that’s why we ended up at my place instead of the Château.”

“They’re probably talking about us right now,” you whispered, watching as JJ intertwined your fingers with his. “Making fun of us and everything.”

JJ let out a sigh. His hand that he was using to caress your hip came to a stop. Instead, his fingers dug into your flesh. Seemingly gathering up courage, he quietly asked, “Do you regret it?”

He could’ve let out a sigh of relief when you quietly said, “No. Not if it was you. I trust you, J.”

“Good,” he muttered. “So, is this gonna change what we’ve got goin’ on? Like, we’re still friends, right?”

“Do friends have sex?”

Another pause.

“You got me there.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes with a grin. JJ smiled widely at you. Gently brushing your skin, he sank his fingers into the hem of your sweatpants, eager to feel you again. Hand pressed flat against your spine, he ran his thumb back and forth against you.

Another bout of silence filled the room. With JJ’s soft touch slowly lulling you back to sleep, you closed your eyes and pressed yourself snug into his side.

“I love you, J,” you whispered against his skin. “I really meant that.”

“John B’s keggers are good for something then,” he replied, head shifting to lean atop yours. “Love you too. I’m sayin’ it back this time before I lose the chance.”

“Is that a vodka’s promise?”

“It’s a JJ promise,” he huffed quietly, his words finally allowing the two of you to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[wrathofrats]

WRATH YOUR TAGS ON THE SWISSALPS??? HOW DARE YOUUUU IM IN SHAMBLES FUCKKKKK IM GONNA KMS IF U DONT WRITE IT PLEASEEEEEEE

LMAO HI DONT DO THAT I GOT U BESTIE

Original post

I got carried away and blacked out and it became 2k, idk what happened either.

Swiss is so inexperienced and very anxious and mountain is the sweetest actually. This is so awkward because these two are dorks so good luck.

Small small mentions of blood but it’s taken as a joke.

It wasn’t long after Swiss was summoned that he truly started to understand the bands dynamic. Day in and day out of watching his pack mates eye each other like a piece of meat, constant touching and flirting and there was many parts of Swiss that yearned to be included in it.

He didn’t feel ready. Half split between feeling left out as the two ghoulettes he came with have been bonded and together since summon, and the other ghouls really seemed to take to them after a couple days anyways. It wasn’t like no one took to him, but he’s never propositioned, desired, at least not in his line of sight. He feels like he would be intruding if he were to say anything. So he waits.

The other half worries partially about being inexperienced. Never used a human body, barely has even touched himself and god he’s probably embarrassing, no one wants to be with someone so inexperienced right?

He continues to think about it. Fuck he practically studies the other ghouls and sex and whatever the fuck they’re doing together because when the time comes he doesn’t want to embarrass himself. He’s genuinely afraid he will just get laughed out of the room if he’s not ready though he’s sure he’s probably acting insane.

Truly Swiss has no clue what to think.

He sits on his bed, tosses a toy around in his hands. Nothing insane, something normal sized since he’s a beginner but he worries about it anyways. Hypothetically he knows where it’s supposed to go but

How?

He has no clue.

“I’ve seen dew take two before” rain smirks “shouldve seen him around me and aether, didn’t know the tight whore could do it!”

Does Swiss need to be able to take two?

He rolls the dildo in his hands again and gulps.

Maybe that’s a lesson for another day.

“Rain talks a big game but you should see how whiny he gets when he’s got a drop of blood in front of his nose. Had him drinking from my wrist the other day, he’d do anything for it” aether laughs

He almost winced hearing about it the first time. Never really considered… that being a part of things but ….. he can accept it if he has to, if that’s what the others want.

Swiss is probably getting ahead of himself.

He takes a deep breath and lays down in his bed, just stares at the toy in question because he really isn’t sure what to do with it. There’s no question of what he has to do but he doesn’t understand.

There’s a point where Swiss just decides to rip the bandaid off, reaches between his hiked up legs and pushes it into the tight ring of muscle.

It hurts, burns, doesn’t go in more than a millimeter and he thinks he’s probably fucked it up somehow or maybe he’s just awful or whatever other reason but he decides to simply give up for the night. The worries left to eat at him for the next day.

The morning is really no better for his mind. Stands at the kitchen counter lost in thought before anyone else comes in, the boisterous laughter breaking him out of his anxiety induced trance.

“Feeling ok sunbeam?” Mountain gives him a worried look, standing next to him to lean on the marble.

“Yeah! Didn’t sleep well, I’m fine”

“Well if you ever want help sleeping just let me know” mountain winks at him.

Was that?

It couldn’t be. Right?

Did mountain just finally proposition to fuck him?

He can’t say no. He’s come too far and wanted it too bad so he has to go to his room tonight right?

Questions race around Swiss’ brain. He’s the bottom right? Mountain is like a foot taller than him so that has to be it? But what if he that’s not correct and mountain gets offended? What if the rest of the pack hears and hates him? What if-

He desperately needs his brain to shut the fuck up.

The hours pass like molasses. Swiss swears every time he checks his watch after he’s sure it’s been an hour it’s really only been 10 minutes.

What time is he even supposed to go up there?

God he wishes more than anything he could stop this anxiety.

Swiss decides around 10 pm is good. Late enough for a reasonable bedtime but early enough he knows mountain won’t actually be asleep.

Mountain is shirtless, wearing low grey sweatpants when he answers the door. Swiss thinks he may be drooling but attempts to collect himself enough to speak.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come up here, been waiting for you to come to one of us sunbeam” mountain chuckles and motions through the open door to invite him in.

“Been waiting for you myself, hard to ignore such a big guy like you” Swiss pushes himself against mountain. He’s heard in pornos that men like to be called big. That was right to say, right?

“Didn’t know you were so eager” mountain smiles and lightly shoves Swiss onto the bed, straddling his small waist against the sheets.

“Course I’m eager, been waiting for this for ages, want to drink the blood from your wrist” Swiss winks.

Mountain sits up, “what?” He looks at him confused.

Did Swiss do it wrong? Aether made it seem like that was normal….

“I- um …. Yeah, want you to fuck me stupid, make me your whore?” He loses all confidence to his voice, looks scared to even say it and the concerned expression on mountains faces turns to laughter. So he really did fuck it up huh.

“Swiss…… have you done this before?” Mountain gets out between laughs.

Swiss should probably get up, leave with his tail between his legs and god he’s going to be laughed of the band for this,

“No… I’m sorry I ruined it I’ll go-“

“No! You don’t have to do that. Didn’t expect you to know.” Mountain smiles at him “come here, can I teach you? You sure you want this?”

A large hand caresses Swiss’s waist. Mountain moves him against the pillows, studying his language for any sign of hesitation or regret.

“Please” Swiss mumbles

It’s cute to watch him suddenly so shy, came in like a speeding bullet but now can’t look mountain in the eye.

“How much do you know? Have you ever touched yourself sunbeam?” Oh the tone to mountains voice should not be turning Swiss on but god it’s deep and gravely and yeah Swiss definitely may be desperate.

“No.. I tried but I don’t … know how? I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize, you’re ok, you’re safe here”

Swiss does feel safe. Safe enough to let mountain undress him, gently lift his shirt over his head and unbutton his pants.

“I’m going to touch you, alright? Tell me immediately if you start to feel strange” mountain caresses his cheek, staring into his warm brown eyes before reaching down for his hardening cock. It doesn’t take much for it to stiffen up fully, just a couple of touches and Swiss is hard against his stomach, still watching for mountains next move.

“There we go, gonna move your knees up. Is it ok if I put my fingers in you? Need to stretch you out if you still want me to fuck you”

Swiss just nods in agreement, bites his lip in favor of speaking and watches as mountain pours some kind of thick liquid onto his fingers.

“Just lube, it’s going to help”

It feels weird at first, more like some kind of intrusion than any mind numbing pleasure he’s heard about it. Swiss moans anyways, doesn’t want to hurt mountains feelings if it’s really supposed to feel good.

“Swiss…. It’s ok it’s not supposed to feel good yet, you don’t have to fake it for me” mountain laughs at the multi ghouls rapidly reddening face

“Besides, you won’t have to fake it here soon”

It’s embarrassing that a drop of pre bubbles at his tip just from that sentence. Mountains smile doesn’t drop, only a little cocky from the situation.

After three fingers mountain starts to push deeper, rolling them up instead of scissoring and-

Oh.

Swiss nearly yelps, vision blurs and jumps off the bed when mountain hits something inside of him.

“There you go, did you like that?” He laughs. God he needs mountain to stop laughing at him, needs his cock to stop jumping at his laughter too.

“Think you’re ready? Still ok?”

“Please” Swiss whines

The first inch feels wrong again. Nothing like when he did it the other night but mountain is much bigger than his toy and it honestly feels like it may be too much. He holds his breath, the stretch knocking the air from his lungs anyways but he grips the sheets and waits for mountain to sink the rest of the way in.

It’s overly slow, mountain being overly caring as always but he can feel every inch carve its way into him and he just waist for mountain to be down so he can collect himself.

“You’re ok, promise I’ll make you feel so good alright? You’re doing so well”

Swiss mentally notes the way his words make him see stars. That’s a kink to deal with another day.

“Gonna move ok?”

The outward thrust feels like it takes years, before mountain quickly moves back in him, trying to loosen him up before really taking him and mountain deserves an award in patience for being able to control himself for so long with Swiss so hot and tight around him.

“Fuck mount- feels- mountain-” Swiss gasps once mountain gets to pace. Eyes closed tight and mouth agape. Soft moans and whimpers escaping his lips and Swiss throws his hand over his mouth to attempt to silence himself.

Mountain quickly grabs his wrists, holding them above his head, “wanna hear you, wanna hear what I’m doing to you, fuck- Swiss want you to be loud for me”

A hot pit forms in Swiss’s stomach, burns in his abdomen and has his eyes crossing with the feeling,

“Mountain- I think I’m getting close I- please i think I’m going to-“ Swiss doesn’t even get the sentence out before he’s spilling hot and thick all over his stomach.

“There you go, fuck Swiss, so good feel so fucking good wrapped around me”

Mountain cums not moments later, pulls out and jacks himself onto the sheets as to not be ungentleman like for Swiss’s first time.

“Feeling alright Swiss?”

“Holy fucking shit I get it now”

[chaoticbardlady99]

Lethal Woman- Chapter 7 (Astarion x GN! Reader) MDNI 18+ Only

Synopsis- You and your rag tag team of heroes barely escaped the Githyanki with your lives. You and Astarion grow closer as you learn about each other’s traumas and have a heartfelt conversation about what you both want out of this situation.

CW: Smut, mentions of violence, mentions of SA, mentions of trauma

I put a start and stop for the smut just in case anyone does not want to read it 😀 thank you for reading! I have had posting paralysis and task paralysis for a week so this has been completed for a hot minute now lmao

Chapter Eight

You cough and sputter as you slowly begin to come back to life- your head is throbbing and you hear a familiar voice frantically screaming nearby. The iron, sweet smell of blood hits your nose- Astarion.

It slowly comes back to you now. You had all been running out of the crèche- you, Lae’zel, Astarion, and Karlach- trying to escape the murderous Githyanki (you did demolish their inquisitor so you understand- still sucks though). You had split off from the group with the Blood of Lathander so that they could get to safety faster while you used the weapon to destroy the Monastery and keep the Gith off your tails. You remember the way the magic had moved through the Mace and the blast shaking the ground- the monastery collapsing in on itself.

You had been running away- nearly to safety when the floor beneath your feet gave way. You had felt your heart stop in your chest as you felt gravity begin to pull you down, then something hits you- hard- and you go flying to a more stable part of the floor. Strong, hands wrapped around your arm, pulling you upright, and dragging you behind them in the growing darkness- you barely make out Astarion in the dust. Right before you were going to exit the building- it collapsed in on the two of you- Astarion was on top of you within seconds to shield you from the rocks, then you don’t remember much else.

His blood is in the air- not a lot, but more than you are comfortable with. You sit upright too fast- the world is spinning, but you need to get to him.

Astarion is not that far ahead of you. You survey the room- grateful you were born with Darkvision- and recognize that you are stuck pretty tightly up against the wall where you had found the old rusty Mace. The ceiling had caved in, but the rubble that had fallen first had allowed a tight little room to form- the wall showing the front of the monastery has air coming through it, but it’s pitch black and there is evidently no way out. You have both been buried alive.

Soldier!!!!!! Soldier- I need you to respond. You feel Karlach desperation, Where the fuck are you?

We’re in here! You show her the room and you feel her relief and instant recognition of the area, go get Gale and see if he can’t shrink the rocks down. Wyll should have some smoke powder bombs and please ask Shadowheart how to cast calm for me.

You can feel Karlach befuddlement at the request, Why do you need to cast calm?

Astarion’s feral terrified screams echo through both of your heads as it starts up again. Astarion is slamming his hands against the rocks, cutting into his palms and belligerently begging to be let out.

Got it, Soldier. Karlach’s sadness and worry mirrors your own- not as intense, but it’s there.

Karlach had grown rather fond of Astarion too- they were quick to become friends. Karlach cares for Astarion and you see that in flashes- but you see how her feelings change towards him as Astarion becomes closer with you. She sees ‘undying adoration’ for you in his eyes- you told her there’s no way. You had slept together two weeks ago.

The night after he had asked to meet you again, you agreed, but when you went, he wasn’t present at all. It felt forced and mechanical so you stopped him. Astarion became defensive and has been basically avoiding you ever since.

“Give him a minute, Soldier,” she had reassured you, “maybe you were just that brilliant in bed and he’s resisting the urge to take you all the time.”

“I seriously doubt that, but thanks.”

Another blood curdling scream and Astarion slamming himself against the rocks breaks you from your thoughts.

Tell her I’m having a panic attack. I don’t want Astarion to feel uncomfortable around everyone when we get back.

Roger that.

After Karlach is no longer communicating with you- you cast Faerie Light- illuminating the room in a soft, relaxing glow. Astarion is staring at you- eyes wide with fear and his hands dripping in blood. You slowly walk towards him and he slams himself back against the wall and bares his fangs at you.

You freeze- something in you is saying not to move because that could very well be the end of your life. You don’t think it would be intentional on his part, but it certainly wouldn’t be a fun thing to explain to the group as he pays 200 gold to Withers.

You gently set the light down and take two steps back- giving him more space. You watch as he begins to relax a bit more- his eyes seem more focused. As he begins to relax, he begins to shake and slowly drops to his knees- curling his arms around himself and hiding his face.

The room is not very big- you realize. It’s maybe only the size of a small tent really, but Astarion has told you about Cazador burying him and then being stuck down there for a year. Sometimes Cazador would put him in his tomb for short stints of time. One of the first nights you had spent time together on this journey, Astarion had talked about how grateful he was to know he will never have to be back in his tomb again.

This space must be suffocating him.

You slowly walk towards him making a point of creating some sound for him to know you are coming over. Despite all of Dahlia’s torments, she had been unable to get rid of the parts of you that were reminiscent of your parents. Your father’s kindness and patience persisted; your mother’s brilliance and strong-will had only been hiding under the surface. You also think of Tessa- who gently healed you when she found you bleeding out in an alleyway. The way she had spoken to you- the way she used the Weave to gently bring the skin back together. You had never felt more cared for in your life- more seen.

What if that would help Astarion right now?

Astarion is shaking and sobbing silently- his hands are bleeding while he tries desperately to keep them still again. His nails are cracked, chipped, bloody, and raw.

You are going to kill Cazador Szarr if it’s the last thing you do- you are going to torment him until he feels as afraid as he has made Astarion feel for the last 200 years.

At one point in your life- you had wanted to be a healer. You find it ironic that you are an assassin instead and Astarion just so happens to need both.

You know basic healing magic- enough for this at the very least.

“Star,” your words are barely a whisper, “would it be okay if I healed your hands?”

You wait for what feels like an eternity and then he holds out one of his hands to you, the other one still wrapped around his legs.

You begin to work, slowly using the magic to stitch the wounds together like Tessa had shown you. You find yourself remembering your mother singing Drow lullabies to you in the Mine when you were afraid. You would do the same for her after she had spent countless hours pleasuring horrible men. You would sing the songs to her in Undercommon as she had taught you to.

Absentmindedly, you begin to sing a lullaby under your breath as your hands gently caress his wounds closed.

When I was only, only a boy,

I saw my mother cry.

You turn over his hand and press a soft kiss to the back of it when you are finished and then guide it back to his leg- like Tessa had done for you. You gently coax his other hand into yours and begin tracing the cuts, erasing the bruises, wiping away the blood.

The time had come to pay for her sins,

The price, my friend, was I.

You don’t notice how Astarion is staring at you- watching you with so much intensity and adoration. No one has ever touched him this softly, been so patient and understanding, or extinguished his anxiety like this before. Your voice is soft and sweet. He recognizes the language and the song- Sins of the Mother, one of the old Drow lullabies.

A nest of flowers covers the place,

Where in the ground I lie.

You survey the other hand- satisfied with your work, but begin tracing the lines of his hands.

Now I'm a pile of lonely old bones,

A thousand years gone by.

You are done tracing the lines of his hand by the time you finish the song and when you go to release it, he pulls you into him by the wrist- placing you on his lap. You are stiff because it wasn’t expected, but you caress his silvery blonde locks and let him put his ear to your chest.

“Sins of the Mother,” he whispers.

You hum in acknowledgment through pursed lips.

“It’s morbid, but it’s my favorite,” you admit, “Descent to Light is fine and all, but I stopped feeling inclined to sing it when my mother died.”

“Descent to Light is beautiful, but unrealistic,” Astarion regards you for a second before saying, “I think Sins of the Mother might be my favorite too.”

As long as you are the one singing it.

You don’t think he meant to share that thought with you, but you blush all the same.

You both sit there for what feels like seconds, but is probably more like 15 minutes just in silence. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and his around your torso. Your legs are entangled as you sit in his lap and you continue to play with his hair. Astarion sighs in pleasure every so often- inhaling deeply.

“I’m sor-,” he begins to say and you cut him off with a chaste kiss. Astarion looks at you with surprise- the look on your face tells him you are equally as shocked at your actions.

You had only slept together two weeks ago and HE HAS BEEN AVOIDING YOU SINCE! What are you doing!?

YOU PSYCHO! You think, mentally face palming, but you decide to just roll with it like you actually have some confidence.

“I don’t want to hear it- you have nothing and I mean nothing to be sorry for Star,” you say with intensity, looking directly at him, “Cazador did unspeakable, horrific things to you- I will help you make him pay and I will never, ever allow him to touch you, speak to you, or even perceive you without me by your side ready to help hold him down so you can destroy him- do you understand? I promise you- I will not rest until that man ceases to exist.”

Astarion is looking at you, tears streaming down his face. His expression is open and vulnerable- for the first time, you see all the pain that he has experienced over the last 200 years. You gently rub your thumbs along his cheekbones, wiping away the tears while fighting your own.

“He will never touch you again, Astarion,” you say with a promise of vengeance to come, a finality “I vow to destroy him before he’s even able to try..”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You and Astarion had been rescued hours earlier by Gale, Karlach, Lae’zel, and Wyll- all collectively throwing or destroying the rocks holding you both captive in the ruined monastery.

You are sitting by the fire- laughing with Karlach and Wyll while Astarion turns over everything you said to him in that hellish situation.

Astarion can feel the panic begin to bubble in his chest again when he thinks about when he realized you were both trapped. He was worried for himself, but he had been even more terrified for you. Astarion had only wanted to keep you from dying- not bury you alive with him. Then he spiraled.

Admittedly, he had almost lost all of his wits- barely grasping to the idea that you were there with him and he was not in his tomb- or the kennels. It didn’t matter though- Astarion had felt his brain snap into a billion pieces and he remembers watching himself snarl at you- afraid he might hurt you, but too terrified of the situation to care.

You had responded to his reaction- not in fear, but understanding. You went back a few steps until he had sat down- head between his legs and a sobbing mess.

You came to him- asked permission before you healed his hands and sung a lullaby. Held him while he sobbed and promised him that Cazador would never touch him again or at the very least, Cazador won’t survive very long if he tries. You were there for him without anything in return- Astarion had been avoiding you for the last two weeks because of how confusing his feelings towards you are now.

You sat together and talked around the campfire every night, but he knows you have noticed him slip his facade back on and he doesn’t know whether to take it back off or not.

Astarion wants to have sex with you again, but he also doesn’t want you to only see him as sex which is confusing because that was sort of the point of the plan. Astarion would provide you with irreplaceable pleasure and you would provide him with protection- good sex can be hard to find so that’s the most valuable thing he has to offer. Except he doesn’t want it to be transactional anymore, Astarion wants it to be a way he connects with you intimately- a way to worship you. Astarion makes himself ill with the thought- what the hells is happening to him!? He has only slept with you once!

He also isn’t entirely sure if that icky feeling will ever go away from him- despite how much he enjoys being intimate with you. It’s different with you and it feels more like how old writers describe the activity- a collision of two souls combining to feel like one. Then he remembers what Cazador has made him for- casual sex, prostitution. Astarion wonders if you feel the same and maybe that’s why he’s over here in front of his tent instead of next to you at the campfire- agonizing over wanting to be near you, but also too scared to know if you also see him the way Cazador does.

Today gave him a strong, happy feeling that you don’t and maybe there is some hope there. Maybe Astarion can have more out of this life than he thought he could.

Astarion is being pulled towards you, lost in your orbit, abandoning his book and his spot in front of his tent altogether. Astarion is hopelessly needy for your presence right now.

Suddenly, he’s awkwardly standing behind you looking at the seat next to you- unsure of how to ask if he can sit. Karlach finally pipes up- looking at him with amusement and holds up her bottle of alcohol.

“Hey Fangs!” She says loudly, “come to join the party?”

You whip around and look up at him- your cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and you pat the spot next to you. He can’t help but smile as he sits. Karlach wiggles her eyebrows at you and you throw a roll at her- she cackles as the roll hits her and immediately crisps.

“That’s just a waste of food, Soldier,” Karlach says with exaggeration and a victorious laugh, “GALE! Our fearless leader is ruining your food!”

A distant scream is heard and gets louder as Gale comes storming over, exasperated, “EXCUSE ME!?”

You feign distress, “I know- how thoughtless of me! I just wanted to toast a nice roll to go with my wine.”

“I’ve been reduced to nothing but an oven,” Karlach fake cries and you keel over laughing.

Astarion is a bit jealous of Karlach to some extent. He knows there isn’t a romantic interest there, but if you weren’t with Astarion, you were sleeping in Karlach’s tent. Far apart (he had checked), but still. You often went hunting together, exploring together, and have lots of inside jokes. He is jealous of the emotional intimacy you guys share because he knows you share that with him too. He likes Karlach- so at least she isn’t the worst to share with.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel are very close to you as well, but Karlach is the one Astarion knows he is sharing your heart with. You love her as if she is your own kin.

“I wonder,” you say with a slur, “how hard would it be to kill Zariel or Mizora?”

Wyll rolls his eyes and laughs at your question, “why? Do you plan on storming the Hells and releasing us from our chains?”

Astarion wasn’t surprised when Wyll warmed up to you. You had been kind to him when he was changed into a fiend. You understood that his reasoning for taking the contract was personal- Wyll had briefly mentioned his family. Anyone- Astarion included- who tried to make a jab at Wyll was scolded by you. Now that he knows more about your family, he is less bitter about it and you also rip Will a new one (with much more anger, in fact) when he insults Astarion. When Wyll had made a jab at him and brought up eating rats- you had pushed Wyll into the river in the Owlbear cave and right into a disgusting bit of Owlbear waste floating on the bank. Wyll makes lots of jokes about Astarion, but he has never mentioned the rats again.

You shrug, “why not? I have favors to cash in from Obhark anyway- might as well put them to good use. It’s not like I’ll be doing anything other than working after all of this is over anyhow. The Hells might be an interesting vacation prospect.”

“Or you could leave the Nightmasks and we could all just travel together forever!” Karlach exclaims.

You shake your head at her sadly, “No one leaves the Nightmasks.”

“How come?” Wyll asks, “if you don’t mind sharing some?”

You raise an eyebrow at Wyll and take a long sip from your bottle of wine before passing it to Astarion. Astarion watches your every move- hangs on your every word.

“Well Mr.Monster Hunter,” you tease, “any time someone attempts to permanently leave the Nightmasks, Obhark- the Faceless- calls for a hunt with a boon- a favor that you can cash in at any point- provided it’s reasonable.”

“In what world do Master Vampires give out boons?” Astarion finds his voice again, bewildered.

“Good question, wish I could answer it for ya” you state with a shrug, “he’s had a hold on Westgate for centuries. Although I work for him- I’m not particularly fond of him. He’s horrible to his consort- my Ward. He beats her, rapes her, etc. Swears up, down, left, right, and sideways that he loves her and he buys her fancy things, but….”

You shake your head before continuing, “anyway- if you are the one who kills the individual- you win the boon. He always does that for the ‘suicide mission’ contracts. Obhark will offer them for other types of contracts- sometimes easy ones- if the need is urgent enough. Outside of the Deathbringers- the assassins and thieves rarely participate due to how dangerous these contracts usually are.”

“How many do you have, Soldier,” Karlach muses, “ten? Twenty?”

You pause and you look slightly uncomfortable, “I have 110.”

The silence is extremely thick in the air. All Astarion thinks about is that there was 110 times possibilities that he almost never got to meet you.

“Dahlia started making me take those contracts the minute I became a Deathbringer,” you look at your feet, “I have a 100 percent success rate- obviously.”

Karlach seems to understand that you don’t want to go further on that particular part so she interjects before Wyll can ask more questions.

“Do you have any friends or do you all hate each other’s guts?”

You snort, “I suppose you could call them ‘friends’. Everus is a human shade who steals my shit all the time, breaks into my home, and then wonders why I don’t have anything there. Then there’s Lucia who’s been with the guild for 500 years give or take. She trained me after I became a Deathbringer. Ghost is… the weirdest of them all. He is some sickly man who has a ring of regeneration, but he’ll go from one corpse to the next and just use those to fight. Draegan is a fucking asshole who refuses to leave me alone and likes to show off more than he likes living. I hate when we are assigned stuff together- it’s usually me fixing every fuck up he’s made while trying to drag his half alive body away and keep myself alive.

“There are others like Rinara who I just don’t fucking like on principle alone- too murder happy. I’m the oddball- I actually don’t enjoy killing people for fun. I’m,” you put the next part in quotes, “too ethical.”

“They sound like an…. Eclectic group.” Wyll says with his eyebrow raised, “and if you don’t like killing, why are you there?”

You simply shrug and look up at the stars.

“You don’t always get a choice- I feel like you know that as well as I do.”

Wyll nods in agreement and gives you an empathetic look. Astarion just takes you in- watching the fire flickering across your face- kissing every corner of your skin. He’s never been so jealous of a campfire- he wants to be the one memorizing your skin and tracing your features.

Karlach interjects, “I’m still held up on the whole- ‘House’ thing. You have a house!?”

You, for whatever reason, look incredibly uncomfortable with the question, but you smile at Karlach anyway.

“Yeah, just a townhome in Baldur’s Gate. It’s in the Upper City, but I’m never there so I usually just pay whatever and if I end up in Baldur’s gate I’ll stay there,” you shrug your shoulders, “I was going to sell it after my last contract but I was very rudely interrupted by Mindflayers.”

“Why would you sell it!?”

Karlach is bewildered and admittedly so is Astarion. Upper city Townhomes are beautiful- he used to wonder what it would be like to own one or even just walk into one. Astarion wonders if he’s ever walked by your town home while you were there- did your paths ever unknowingly cross?

“Um well,” you pick at your nails, one of them bleeding as you rip it off, “I bought it because my late girlfriend had really wanted to move there after I had a bit more freedom, but evidently, it didn't last very long. She was the artistic one in the relationship so I only have a mattress in the damn place. I thought buying it might bring some part of her back, but it was a stupid thought.”

This is the third time Astarion has encountered Tessa in a conversation with you. You barely bring her up and if he tries to lead you in that direction- you pivot and shut down. He knows what your last image of her was.

“I don’t think that’s stupid,” Karlach says softly, “what happened to her?”

“ I was allowed to be with her, but it came with extra curricular torture activities,” you clear your throat, Astarion winces at the defeat in your voice, “My ‘mentor’ had one of her assassin’s kill her. It was brutal. Dahlia gave me a fake contract in the same sewer system she lured Tessa to. I heard her screaming and I was the one who-“ you take a shaky breath, “found her. I- I don’t really care to talk about it much. It was halfway my fault- I should have been keeping a closer eye on her. She was trying to blackmail Dahlia so I didn’t have to join the Nightmasks because if you are unwilling- they’ll release you. It’s the only chance you have of getting out alive if someone tries to force you into it- the Nightmasks don’t want to have the reputation that you have to be forced to join. I was just too terrified of Dahlia to say anything so Tessa took matters into her own hands and well, she’s dead so how well did that really turn out- truly?”

You try to laugh it off and Astarion watches one stray tear roll down your face as you take another swig from the bottle. In what world could that be your fault? Astarion doesn’t blame Tessa for trying- if he was in her shoes, he would have probably ended up doing the same thing. Especially knowing how cruel Dahlia is.

“I met her close to the end of my first year living with Dahlia,” you smile softly to yourself, “she worked in her family's local Alchemy shop that Dahlia would send me to while training at a local Warlock guild. I was horrifically smitten and she knew it too. She used to hit on me every time and I would just grab my stuff- turn around and race out of the shop,” your laugh is melancholic, “then she found me bleeding out in an alleyway one time and she somehow was able to get me into her dorm, took care of me, and when I woke up the next morning- I panicked and left.

“I felt a bit bad- Dahlia was not thrilled so I disappeared for a few days,” you say slowly, Astarion knows what probably happened during those three days, “then when I was sent back to the Alchemy shop a week later- I brought this giant bundle of wildflowers. I grabbed every one I could find that even remotely reminded me of her and I don’t know? I guess it just evolved? She always wanted to move to Baldur’s Gate- she’d talk about how beautiful our townhome would be and she had all these plans. I could have given a shit less as long as she was there.”

“Look at you, Soldier!” Karlach exclaims, “how romantic of you! First flowers and then a whole ass townhome? I wish I had met you a few years prior to Gortash selling me off!”

“Oh shut your mouth, it’s not like it was a big deal,” You are bright, bright red and you scoff, “I had just overheard her complain to her sister that all the ‘suitors’ brought her ‘normal’ flowers and she felt like it was lazy. I merely went for a stroll- it wasn’t that hard so I don’t know why they never got the hint. She wasn’t necessarily quiet about it, but she also told me later she had been so loud about it because she was hoping I might listen and do something with that information.”

You are shaking your head and smiling in spite of yourself. He is going to have to add ‘Romantic’ and ‘Thoughtful’ to the list of personality traits you harbor. Astarion is trying to ignore his thoughts wondering which flowers would remind you of him.

“At any rate-“ Wyll says, “at least you now have a few reasons to visit Baldur’s Gate more often now?”

You are practically beaming, “this is true!”

You sigh and look up at the stars with a sad smile, “who knows- maybe I’ll change my mind. There is like four bedrooms so-“

“CAN I MOVE IN WITH YOU!?” Karlach bursts, “if I don’t, ya know, combust.”

You smile brightly at the question, “you can, but I can’t promise Everus won’t try to steal your shit. You are welcome to light him on fire if he does. Fucking asshole keeps stealing my produce at the compound- haven’t caught him yet, but when I do it’s game over for him.”

It’s the most bizarre complaint to have if you live amongst a group of feared Assassins, thieves, and vampire generals. Astarion catches how Wyll looks over at Karlach with hope and smiles- appearing to be thrilled that she asked you to let her stay with you in Baldur’s Gate. Wyll is smitten and from the look on your face when you look between the two of them- you see it too. Karlach glances at Wyll and looks at you shyly.

Adorable, Astarion thinks sarcastically, they’ll be a real joy to live with when this is all over.

He freezes. What did he just think?

Astarion doesn’t know why he’s automatically assuming you’ll be gracious enough to let him live with you when this is all said and done. Why is he already imagining exactly how he would decorate the damn place? You had bought the apartment 5 years prior to him to resurrect the memory of a dead ex-girlfriend and he’s more than likely a fleeting fancy until you realize someone like (and he hates to admit it) Gale or Shadowheart would be a more appropriate choice of long term partner than him. Astarion has managed to inflate and then immediately deflate himself- hope is a fickle thing.

Wyll and Karlach get up, saying they need to go clean their armor, leaving the two of you sitting in silence. Astarion feels like he’s about to start unraveling at the seams being with you alone- it’s like he wants to weave himself into your bones so that he never has to know what it feels like to be without you again.

Today has been… a bit eye opening for him and he is trying to resist the urge to push you away despite how freaked out he feels about his very very strong feelings of adoration for you. Astarion does have a plan to execute (or so he keeps telling himself) and he’s about 2 weeks behind.

“You could live with me too you know,” you say in a whisper, “ I get plenty of contracts in lots of places that make a hefty amount of coin. Silverymoon, St. Carwell’s Vale- they have a pirate cove nearby and they are very fun to drink with or so I’ve been told, there’s the merchants in Melavunt on the Moonsea, Menzoberranzan…”

You look at him coyly, he wants to kiss the look of fear and anticipation of rejection off your face.

“I guess what I’m saying is that I would split the money with you and you could travel the world without any real obligation. With me? If you wanted! That is… or by yourself. I mean the Nightmasks could always use more talented Thieves… wouldn’t be my first recommendation though.”

“Darling, I would love nothing more than to steal from every person in Westgate with you,” Astarion smiles glumly, “but I don’t know how good of a travel companion I’ll be if we can’t be out during the day.”

“I’m not worried about that,” you state matter of factly, “you forget that I’m an excellent assassin and I also happen to know the location for a Ring of the Sunwalker. I have more than enough ‘boons’ to try to haggle for it or at least commission the creation of a new one. If that doesn’t work- I have too much money in the bank anyhow and some favors in different cities.”

Astarion is trying not to gape at you. You’ve just offered him an opportunity to travel around the world, make money, a place to live, and a way to be in the sun when this is all over. Not to mention- you. You are extending him an invitation to remain by your side.

“You don’t have to answer right now,” you say quietly, rubbing your arm awkwardly, “either way, I’m still going to get that ring for you. It’s not right that we are basically going to save the world and you can’t even keep the whole walking in the sun thing.”

“Why? I-“ he starts, “I don’t deserve any of this. What you are offering me is… an enormous debt that I could never repay.”

“You wouldn’t have to repay me and you do deserve it. You deserve the world, Astarion,” you swallow thickly before you look him in the eyes, “I would just be happy to have you there. I enjoy fighting with you and spending time with you- I feel safe for the first time in a long time…And besides, I need someone to rough up some pirates with. I’ve been itching to go, but I wouldn’t even know how to fit in.”

Astarion smiles widely and flashes you a flirtatious look,” I don’t know if you heard, Darling, but I’m an incredibly charismatic rogue with a love for pickpocketing.”

He leans in closer until his lips are barely touching yours- he relishes in the way your breath catches. Astarion basks in what your future together would look like and he lets himself hope for the first time in a long time. Every part of his being wants him to run and not trust you, but your eyes won’t let him go.

“And you,” he breathes, “are the most bewitching individual I have ever met with an incredible prowess for killing. I think we’ll fit right in.”

“I suppose you are right,” you whisper, lips hovering over his, “how silly of me to assume we would need help fitting in.”

“Truly a mistake on your part, Darling.”

“Quite the blunder indeed.”

Astarion presses his lips against yours, gently tangling his hands in your hair to pull you closer- making it more intense and needy. The fire doesn’t begin to compare to the way his body feels when he is with you like this. He doesn’t know how your lips move in sync with his as if the two of you have been exchanging kisses with each other your entire lives.

Time doesn’t feel like it exists right now and that scares him. He feels like he could melt into you and continue to just have you this way for the rest of his immortal li-

“ASTARION AND ROWAN- SITTING IN A TREE!K— I-!”

Nevermind- moment ruined.

“KARLACH!!!!!”

You are up and sprinting after her at a breathtaking speed- a new bread roll in your hand. Karlach is running away with her cackle being carried in the wind.

The entire rest of the camp is staring at Astarion like he’s grown an extra head in the last two seconds. He smiles and waves awkwardly, “Uh hello.”

What in the damn hells is happening? When did he become some shy, smitten school boy!?

“I knew it!” Halsin exclaims with a belly laugh, “ha! The eyes can never truly hide what the soul desires!”

Oh Gods- he might have made a mistake not asking you to just go with him to his tent. Is this how those gross couples in Baldur’s Gate end up in these situations? You just get lost in the fucking moment and the whole world gets to see it?

Lae’zel scoffs, “tsk, if this is going to become a thing- keep your bizarre mating rituals inside your tent.”

Astarion has to fight hard to shove the embarrassment down and puts on his suave facade.

“Oh please, Lae’zel,” Astarion drawls, leaning back on the heels of his hand, “ if you are jealous of me, just say so.”

Lae’zel throws the sword she’s sharpening to the ground and storms off in the opposite direction of Astarion. Maybe he hit the nail on the head a little too hard.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You, Shadowheart, Lae’zel and Karlach are laying in Karlach’s tent- giggly, drunk, and stupid (Lae’zel isn’t giggly or stupid, but she certainly isn’t sober). You had come back to camp and Shadowheart told you that Astarion had run off looking embarrassed after you left. Apparently Lae’zel and Halsin had given him a hard time.

“Tsk, if the spawn cannot be proud of his affections for you then he does not deserve it at all.”

You are burning red, “he does not have ‘affections’ for me Lae’zel!”

“Well whatever he is feeling,” Shadowheart quips, “it’s pretty damn close. He looks at you like you are some kind of walking Goddess in physical form.”

“You guys need to stop,” you pretend to be serious, but you are so giddy at the idea of him being as smitten with you as you are him. Astarion is beautiful in every way- even when he is being a pill.

“No way Soldier,” Karlach clicks her tongue, “I thought I might explode watching the way he kissed you. I wanted to switch places with you even!”

It was a beautiful kiss. You want more time doing that- you don’t care if it goes further nor do you need it to- the feeling of his lips on yours is enough.

“Have you guys…” Shadowheart flashes you a mischievous smile, “had sex yet?”

Your reaction must have been enough because Karlach cheers and Shadowheart looks slightly crestfallen.

“I told you Shadowheart!”

“I’m in shock! I thought I knew them better than that,” Shadowheart sighs, “but you must tell us- what was it like? How was it compared to previous experiences?”

You don’t want to tell Shadowheart that this was your first time having consensual intercourse. You and Tessa had begun fooling around towards the end, but it was cut short before it could go further.

“He was very gentle,” you whisper in embarrassment and dream like bliss, “and caring. It was… amazing.”

Karlach and Shadowheart are chattering excitedly, talking about all the cute underwear you are going to need to buy in Baldur’s Gate. Lae’zel continues to scoff- she doesn’t understand the reasoning behind spending so much money on fabric when the ‘Spawn’ will probably tear them off anyway. You have to redirect yourself from the thought- you do not need to be turned on right now.

Besides- you are still entirely unsure if he is even in the same headspace as you. Shadowheart did inform you when you first came into camp that Astarion is a flirt and that they had had a very wonderful make out session together the first night of camp. Shadowheart had disliked you for a bit when Astarion’s attentions turned elsewhere, but the whole thing had disappeared. Well until now.

“He really is an incredible kisser,” Shadowheart reminisces, “with everything his hands can do over clothing- Shar help me- I can’t even imagine how it would feel to have him touch you naked. I’ve been with men like him a few times- it can get incredibly kinky and never boring. It is a shame that he and I didn’t mesh as well to begin with. Maybe I should try again- I mean who knows, it would give us something fun to share.”

“He’s not a thing to share, Shadowheart,” you say tersely, “and I wouldn’t be open to that, ever.”

Shadowheart’s smile falters for a moment. You realize that she had expected you to be open to the idea.

“He might and I’ll be here. Men like him get bored of the same old thing eventually,” Shadowheart waves her hand around non-chalantly.

Karlach notices you wince and she holds your hand in hers- giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it go. Shadowheart has been in a particularly foul mood since Astarion kissed you earlier in the day. Ever since, she’s been piss drunk and pointing out everything you have ever told her you were insecure about. You are grateful you didn’t tell her Astarion was your first.

You know Shadowheart is drunk, but it still worries you. Astarion is not an object to share, he is a person, but you also know that Shadowheart is beautiful and well versed in sex.

Astarion is also beautiful and well versed in sex.

You are not.

Karlach knows that the Shadowheart thing is somewhat of a sore spot- not because you wouldn’t be happy for them, but because she is so much more- well everything- than you could ever dream to be.

She is also brilliant to look at with her raven hair and blue eyes. Smart, tough, and fluid- cool girl. There isn’t a single scar anywhere but on her cheek and she doesn’t even remember her past so he wouldn’t have to be so accommodating.

I can see you going there, Soldier. She’s just drunk and jealous.

You and Karlach had ultimately come to the conclusion the third week into this journey that Astarion’s flirting towards you was genuine and that he did not seem to have eyes for Shadowheart. Karlach insisted that you spy on their interactions (there hadn’t been a single one and it was a waste of a rest day). You always wonder though when she makes comments like this- Karlach and Astarion being the only two to know you were a virgin up until 2 weeks ago.

“Soldier and I are going to go get more beverages,” Karlach announces, “we shall be back with the goods!”

You follow Karlach out of the tent and she grabs a third of a bottle of whiskey out of her bag- sitting next to the campfire and taking a sip. She pats the spot next to her and she offers you the Whiskey. You take a massive sip- trying to avoid becoming emotional over your frustration and self-loathing.

“I really like him,” you whisper.

“I know Soldier,” Karlach says empathetically, “Shadowheart doesn’t always seem to read the room very well. She is right though- he does watch you flutter about camp and stare at you as if you are a Goddess to be worshipped.”

You roll your eyes at her, “first of all, I don’t ‘flutter’ about anywhere. Second- she has history with him, barely, but enough for her to be pissed. Third- the man has literally avoided being alone with me for the last two weeks!”

Karlach snorts, “oh please. You want to know why he’s avoiding you? From quite literally everyone else’s perspective in camp.”

“Fine,” you huff.

Karlach takes another big swig from her whiskey and passes it back to you.

“Astarion isn’t a feelings guy- he’s a total flirt and to some extent, not overly trustworthy,” Karlach says, “but today? I had tried to hold him back when he went running to get to you. I didn’t know he knew misty step, but it didn't matter- the way he screamed your name when we all saw you start to fall was haunting. I think his feelings for you are just too… overwhelming and confusing for him to navigate. He refuses to leave your side- no matter how pissed off he may be. Hells- that little lover’s quarrel you had at camp that one day looked like it derailed him entirely. Three whole days he was constantly in the background trying to make sure you were safe. I was shocked you didn’t notice- not even once.

“ You are also the only one in camp he actually keeps his word to or does things for and it’s not with a hidden meaning either- I mean you had to have noticed that almost anything you even so much as mention needing you suddenly have. At first all the studying seemed methodical, but it’s changed.”

“I didn’t realize that’s who was getting or doing that stuff,” you say with relief and realization. You thought you were going crazy- did you always have this stuff? Did all of your stuff always have a lack of holes?

“To be fair, I just figured it out because we were stuck at camp together the other day. He must have heard me chastising you for your sleeping accommodations because before I know it- he’s in my tent, telling me not to say anything- embarrassed mind you, and stitched up all the holes in that Gods awful bed roll of yours,” Karlach chuckles to herself, “He wants you just as much as you want him.”

You stare at her as you try to believe her words. You want to believe them, but you are far too scared to. You have been avoiding people- blaming it on Dahlia despite being free of her for almost a year. You know it’s because you don’t know if you are good enough.

Karlach gets up and yanks you up onto your feet and out of your mind- earning a yelp from you from the contact. She lets go of you and offers a sheepish smile.

“Now go, my short but mighty friend,” Karlach says with bravado, handing you the bottle of whiskey, “do not be without any further!”

You leave the campfire (giving Karlach a brief fist bump) and walk to the opposite side of the camp where Astarion’s tent is. Just as you are about to knock on the wooden post, he opens his flap with a knife in hand that he is inspecting. Astarion looks surprised to see you.

Astarion recovers his composure, “hello, Darling! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh um- I,” you stammer and ultimately don’t know what to say, “I didn’t realize you were leaving- I can go and-“

“No- stay!” Astarion says quickly, grabbing your wrist as you go to turn around, “I was just going to sit by the fire anyway.”

Where Karlach and I are were? You fight the smile threatening to form on your lips, Convenient timing.

You look at him shyly, “well we could still go sit by the campfire if you want?”

“After today’s events?” Astarion scowls playfully, taking your hand, “I would much rather be able to focus all my attentions on you and not everyone gawking.”

Before you can say anything, Astarion pulls you into his tent and closes the flap. Astarion is fidgeting with his blanket and bedroll before gently guiding you to lay down on them. He looks at you with an awkward, anxious smile gracing his lips. You suppress the giggle that threatens to escape your lips- you are happy that he seems just as nervous as you are.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion lays down next to you and you cautiously curl yourself into his side with your head on his chest- your left arm and leg draped across him as your head lays where his quiet heart lies. Your happy sigh fills him with joy. Astarion traces circles on your back- enjoying the simplicity of the moment.

Astarion waits for you to pull at his clothes, seduce him, or at the very least ask him to fuck you. You don’t though. You lay there, unmoving and content. Weird.

“So- four whole bedrooms?” Astarion ponders out loud, “and you only have a mattress?”

You grumble, “I knew that was going to be brought up.”

“Darling, it’s a town home in the upper city and you only have a mattress! Of course it was going to be brought up!”

“It was the only one for sale- there wasn’t anything small anywhere. I checked at least a half a dozen times,” you grimace, “but I needed somewhere and I didn’t want to set up a permanent residence in Westgate so I just bought the damn place.”

“Where were you planning on moving?” Astarion inquires, “since you were visiting with the intentions of selling it?”

“Honestly? I wasn’t sure,” you say dreamily, “I was thinking of Neverwinter, Iceland Dales, Silverymoon, Waterdeep, Menzoberranzan, or maybe a short stint in Candlekeep. I can’t read common, but I would love to be able to explore their library. I’m sure they have something in Undercommon that I can read.”

“Those are all wildly different locations and climates, my Dear,” he says teasingly while placing a kiss on top of your head without thinking.

You shrug, “I’m just very complex.”

“And apparently travel a lot.”

“I try not to make it a habit of staying in the same place too long. Eventually the loneliness in a familiar place loses its novelty,” you sigh, “I just do whatever work is around the area until I get a contract. Typically I get up and leave after that then start the process over somewhere else.”

“What kind of work in the area?” Astarion says while absentmindedly untangling your hair with his lithe fingers.

“Farm work, guard duty, hunting,” you hmmm as you think, “head hunting, cleaning and bartending depending on if I am able to get a job at a local inn.”

Astarion busts up laughing at the idea of you of all people being a bartender. You hate being perceived- let alone talked to by strangers. You would have easily been Cazador’s worst nightmare.

“What’s so funny!?” You exclaim, keeping your lips in a serious line.

“Oh nothing, Darling,” Astarion quips, “I can’t even begin to imagine you as a bartender.”

You prop yourself up to look at him- you are frowning.

“How so?”

“Darling,” he says snickering, “you looked like you were going to have a homicidal meltdown when that man at the Grove ‘looked at you funny’. You quite literally scared the piss out of him.”

“Because he looked at me funny! Lae’zel agreed.”

“Oh yes,” Astarion says while rolling his eyes, “because Lae’zel is the most reliable judge of social situations.”

“I happen to think she’s the best- I mean you saw how well the crèche went today, right?”

“Sometimes I forget that narrowly escaping death is your definition of ‘well’.”

You shrug, sitting up briefly to take a sip out of the open bottle of whiskey.

“I have relatively low standards when it comes to fighting Githyanki.”

“Ah,” he huffs in acknowledgement, “I forgot- Whalebone Spice blood. I suppose they weren’t necessarily the most attractive creatures to begin with, but to taste like that? How embarrassing.”

You are midswig of alcohol when you begin to snort from laughter and proceed to choke so hard on the whiskey that some of it sprays from your mouth and onto Astarion’s shirt. You are absolutely mortified and you cover your face with your hands, slowly getting up. Astarion doesn’t know whether to be upset or not, but he doesn’t feel like upset is the most accurate term for what he is feeling.

Your embarrassment is way too adorable. Painfully adorable and Astarion would be a fool not to take advantage of the moment.

“Well, on that note,” you keep your face covered, “I should be goi-“

“Oh no you don’t,” Astarion says teasingly, pulling your hands away from your face, “you owe me for this one.”

The mischievous glint in his eye tells you he is up to absolutely no good.

“Oh? And what do you feel I owe you?”

“Hmmmm, well Darling,” Astarion says, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “help cleaning off would be greatly appreciated.”

Your eyes go wide and Astarion playfully pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. A beautiful, whimpering moan escapes your lips and he smiles cheekily. He cherishes the moments when he can make you speechless instead of the other way around.

“Okay,” you say breathily.

“Okay?” Astarion teases, “I’ve never had a more enthusiastic lover.”

Astarion has to fight the smile when you grow an even darker shade of red at the title.

*smut starts here*

“I-I’m sorry-“ you say, looking down at your feet and rubbing your arm shyly, “I guess I’m not entirely sure what ‘helping’ you clean up entails soooo…”

“Well we have established that you do know how sex works, Darling,” Astarion says with a smirk, “but I suppose I could show you again…”

*smut starts here*

Astarion’s fingers dance along the hem of your shirt- pulling it off you in one swift movement. Astarion kisses the junction between your shoulder and your neck, taking a quick nip at the skin before pulling away.

“Typically,” he whispers, “you want to start with the offending articles of clothing- which for you, my Sweet- is anything that prevents me from seeing that beautiful body of yours.”

“Ast-“

“Ah,” Astarion cups your jaw with one of his hands and puts his thumb in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, “I need you to be quiet, Darling. I’m trying to focus- you do want to learn, don’t you?”

You nod eagerly and he rewards you by pushing your thighs apart with his leg before rubbing it against your clothed heat. Your heart galloping and the smell of your arousal is making Astarion feel like he may go into a frenzy if he doesn’t get to have you soon.

He pushes the gross feelings down- hard- trying to prevent dissociation or at least obvious dissociation.

You wouldn’t go through with it if he didn’t seem to be having a good time and Astarion isn’t ready to have the, “surprise! I’m a prostitute against my own free will and I’ve been using my craft to make you like me, but now I’m horribly confused!” Conversation.

Astarion is snapped out of his thoughts when he feels your tongue glide along the ridge of his thumb before you nick his thumb with one of your canines. Your tongue flicks out to lap at the pin prick of a wound, but it must have been enough because your pupils are blown even wider now with lust and need. Astarion didn’t expect such a simple little action to rile him up so much, but he’s hardly done anything to you and his cock is straining against his pants.

“Cheeky pup,” Astarion praises, “you are full of surprises aren’t you?”

Astarion practically rips your pants off, taking his thumb out of your mouth, but making a point of drawing more blood- soaking in your wanting moans as his blood coats your tongue- as he teases your folds through your underwear before slowly slipping his fingers in between your legs while rubbing your clit with his thumb. Astarion’s plan to continue teasing you quickly dissolves when he adds a second finger, you begin to writhe and beg for him to take you underneath him. Astarion has you right where he wants you and yet he does not feel like he’s the one in control in this situation. You are like an addiction he can’t kick and he is excited to actually be excited about sex for once.

You are helping him hastily and messily remove his clothes- Astarion is caught up in the desperation to be inside you that he flips you onto your stomach- not thinking. You stiffen underneath him with a sharp breath and he snaps out of whatever lustful haze he is in.

It had been too aggressive of a movement- far too similar to your trauma.

“I’m so sorry,” he says quickly, turning you back over and you are looking up at him with fear in your eyes.

His heart shatters- Astarion wants you to feel safe with him and he just threw your trust away. He is so nervous as he takes in your facial expressions.

“I- it’s okay,” you say, trying to smile through the panic, “I just wasn’t expecting it was all. I trust you- I want to try.”

Astarion searches your eyes- he feels his brows furrowing and his face being consumed with the worry he is feeling.

“Are you sure?” He whispers, stroking your cheek and leaving soft kisses along your jaw, “we can do whatever you want, Darling. It’s just a privilege to be with you.”

It’s true- Astarion knows deep down that if he had met you in Baldur’s Gate that he would have begrudgingly taken you back to Cazador to become his meal. He is glad that is not the context you met each other in.

“I’m sure Star,” you gently tangle your hands behind his neck, you sigh into his shoulder,“I trust you and I know you won’t hurt me.”

Astarion works his way up until he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. When the hell did he become an affectionate lover?

“Thank you, Darling,” Astarion says breathily, “you can’t even begin to imagine how much that means to me.”

You allow him to help you flip back over- still wet and wanting from the earlier activities. Astarion positions you in front of the mirror on the opposite side of his tent- he’s not as hard as he was prior to the incident, but the look on your face changes that entirely as he slowly presses inside you.

Pure, carnal desire and pleasure- he groans at how your walls clench around him. Your hands are digging into the fabric of his bed roll and you are practically panting with lust as you adjust to him- yelping blissfully when he pulls back and snaps his hips into yours. Astarion wishes he could actually watch himself doing this to you, but he’s still thrilled by all of your reactions- each one earning a harder, faster thrust from Astarion each time.

You are crying out in pleasure- fighting to not collapse. You are looking at where he would be in the mirror and Gods is he grateful you are. Astarion feels your legs violently shaking as you release around him- your eyes fluttering as you ride out your orgasm. He gently pulls you flush against him by your hair, moving his left arm between the junction of your breasts to hold you in place, and bares you to himself in the mirror.

Your breasts are perfect- nipples hard and sensitive from the cool night air and arousal. Your orgasm is dripping between your legs- where you are taking him so well. You look absolutely euphoric and perfect this way. He traces the lines of your scars up to your breasts- pinching the swollen nubs until you are a whimpering mess clenching around him again. You are painted in your own nectar again- the growing waterfall between your legs causing a possessive growl to leave Astarion’s throat as he nips at your neck.

Astarion is the only one who can make you feel this way and he wants to make sure you never forget it.

“Gods you are a work of art,” he says, moving his hand that was playing with your breasts to rub your swollen, sensitive clit and he snaps up into you. The whimper that leaves your lips is so pitifully blissed out that Astarion loses his composure- thrusting up into you sloppily as he begins coming into you without any warning, grunting through his arousal as he praises you.

*smut ends here*

“You were so good for me, Little Love,” Astarion whispers into your ear, “but I definitely don’t think I am any cleaner than I was before.”

“And who’s fault is that?” You retort between heavy breaths.

Astarion laughs and then rolls you both onto your sides. Astarion wraps himself around you, pushing his nose into your hair and inhaling your scent- the already intoxicating aroma is even sweeter with the scent of you and him mixed together between your legs. Astarion glides his fingers between your legs and licks the combination off his fingers- humming in delight. He can feel the heat crawl up the back of your neck.

I can’t believe I almost lost this today, Astarion thinks, trying to just be in the moment with the warmth you make him feel, but there is also guilt, shame, and self- loathing. It makes him feel heavy- left to wonder if he will always feel this way despite enjoying himself with you. Would you be okay with that? Waiting for him to be okay? Astarion didn’t, however, realize that his “thought” was actually spoken out loud.

“Lost what today?”

Astarion stiffens against you- embarrassed more than anything. Astarion just hides his face in your hair and chuckles breathily.

“Oh only the first real companion I’ve had in a very long time,” he tries to brush it off, chuckles, “our late night trysts- sex included or not- are rather pleasurable. I think I’d go insane if I was stuck with everyone else here on my own.”

You are silent and what he knows is seconds, feels like hours before you finally speak again.

“Is that why you followed me earlier today?”

That is a good question. Why did Astarion follow you when you went to blow up the crèche?

You had all agreed after hastily retrieving the Blood of Lathander that blowing up the building is the best chance you and your companions had at getting out of there alive with no Githyanki to worry about. You volunteered to power up the machine.

Astarion didn’t tell you how much he despised the plan- that hadn’t gone well for him last time and he really would prefer to not upset you- not that you wouldn’t be kind to him, he just wasn’t sure if he would be able to be kind to you regarding your life being on the line.

Astarion has noticed you both seem to have very different opinions on the value of your life, but he tried to keep his thoughts to himself. Anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t fast enough to outrun a small blast.

Karlach, Lae’zel, and Astarion watched as the monastery exploded and you sprinted faster than Astarion had ever seen anyone sprint before.

The blast was massive- the foundation of the Monastery falling apart at an alarmingly fast rate. The noise was deafening. This was far more powerful than any of you anticipated and he feels the pit in his stomach grow while watching you.

Then Astarion saw that the floor underneath your feet was going to give and you began to dip out of eye sight- Karlach and Lae’zel had the same realization he did- you are about to die underneath all of that rubble.

He remembers Karlach trying to hold him back- telling him you wouldn’t want him to go and just wait until one of you can afford Withers. Astarion didn’t want to have to wait or be without you for however long that would be.

The way his throat hurt screaming for you. Astarion had cast misty steps without much forethought involved and just barely got to you in time. He hadn’t meant to tackle you, but you being mad at him is the least of his concerns. He had only had one goal and it was for you to get out of there alive- it scared him how easily he had been a second thought to himself.

He’s never been more afraid for another person or to lose said person in his 239 years of living (that he can remember)- up until you. Astarion would have hated himself for the rest of eternity if something terrible had happened to you and he didn’t even try to save you.

“I-,” Astarion clears his throat, “I don’t know Darling. We were just watching the tower collapse and I saw that the foundation underneath you was going to give…

“I cast misty steps without even really thinking about it. I’m still struggling to believe it myself… I’ve never really thought about anyone else’s safety before.”

Astarion tries to feel brave despite his vulnerability- he supposes he’ll know if he is just sex to you or not.

You turn around to face him, running your fingers through his hair as he pulls you into him- your faces mere inches apart.

You are reading him and Astarion avoids your gaze. He doesn’t want you to see how intensely his feelings are starting to change, but he also doesn’t want to slip his facade back on- he relaxes when you lean your forehead against his.

“Thank you, Astarion,” you whisper his name like a silent prayer.

“Of course, Little Love,” he releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and then inhales slowly.

You smell like lavender, clary sage, and pine- the three most random things have quickly become his favorite combination of scents. He wanted to bottle up the smell so he never has to be without.

Astarion considers your earlier proposition of traveling together after this is all over. It’s been almost 2 months of you knowing one another and it’s been a wonderful 2 months of fun- minus the being hunted by psychotic vampires and could turn into tentacled creatures at any moment.

He hasn’t dared to think about your offer until just now. Astarion knows that you will inevitably end things with him before the end of this journey when you realize he has little to no worth outside of pleasure, but Gods can’t he dream about a world where that never happens? Even if only for a little while?

“I think Candlekeep would be a first good spot for us to go- if we survive this whole tadpole thing,” Astarion says absentmindedly, “I do love a good book.”

“Oh I know,” you say while wiggling your eyebrows at him, “why do you think I even mentioned it?”

“Darling,” Astarion gasps, “how dare you exploit my weakness for literature!”

“I’m despicable, I know,” you put the back of your hand to your forehead, “my plan was to manipulate you into traveling with me the entire time. All I needed to do was find something that may interest you.”

“I didn’t realize I was so easy to please.”

“I wouldn’t say that- you have very reasonable and accessible hobbies,” you say slowly, “you are just difficult to keep up with sometimes.”

“Whatever do you mean, my Dear?” Astarion says trying to hide the nervous edge that threatens to lace his voice.

You look at him with the same amount of nerves he is feeling on the inside. You are cautious and guarded now- like you were when he first met you.

“Um well- Shadowheart told me that you guys um,” you shift uncomfortably, “almost started a thing before I joined camp.”

Wonderful, how thoughtful of her.

“…it was that first day when we were setting up the tents. She mentioned that you guys made out with a lot of heavy petting. Shadowheart had this whole idea of making you beg for it.”

Oh really? Astarion thinks bitterly.

“ She was actually a little bit pissed when you kind of stopped regarding her completely. She’s moved on now, well I hope or maybe she hasn’t because she brought it up again tonight that it’s a bummer you didn’t mesh… and she started talking about being with ‘men like you’ and how you prefer someone who is exciting in bed…”

Oh I’m going to kill that cleric, Astarion thinks, she will not be derailing my plan nor this- whatever this is.

It had barely been anything- Shadowheart had approached him, he couldn’t tell her no, she got him hard, and by the time he was nicely dissociated- she had pushed herself off of him saying he needed to earn it.

Then he met you the next day and having to force himself to be with Shadowheart was quickly thrown out the window.

Astarion had been grateful if he was honest with himself. Beyond grateful, actually. Astarion can’t imagine being with Shadowheart when he has you- someone who respects him and seems to enjoy his company outside of sex- enough to offer your company before and after at least.

Your voice is a sad whisper now, “and well- she mentioned maybe asking you to also… be with her in this way.”

Oh he is going to go and rip that Cleric to pieces.

“I told her I wasn’t comfortable with that and she basically told me it was a pity I wasn’t- men ‘like you’ eventually get bored.”

You avoid his gaze, looking at where your left hand is settled on his shoulder, “I guess I was wondering if that is something I should be prepared for or if you are interested in being with her in that way. I honestly don’t know if I could still be with you- it would maybe hurt too much, but I understand. She’s beautiful, sexual, smart-“

“And yet she isn’t you,” Astarion says harsher than he intended. You look at him vulnerably and he kisses you deeply before continuing- surprising himself with how romantic he is being.

“Shadowheart did approach me on the third night of camp- right before you joined our group,” Astarion says with resentment, “I- Cazador used to have me go hunt for the most beautiful souls in Baldur’s Gate so that he could feed.

“I haven’t been given the luxury of saying ‘no’ for the last 200 years- not that she would have known that, but I… was barely there by the time she decided to leave. We had only been kissing and it all felt… mechanical. Rehearsed,” he is searching your eyes for any signs of disgust, but all he sees is understanding and encouragement to continue, “I was honestly grateful she walked off. I had tried to flirt back the next day- thinking it would be better for me to make an ally than an enemy. I wouldn’t be able to say no to her advances anyway- I figured I would just embrace it.

“Then I met you- ethereal, eccentric, dangerous, wonderful you,” he whispers as if the moon might hear how valuable you are and take you away, “and I don’t think I’ve looked at another soul ever since. You seem to see me- hear me. You are the only person to respect my boundaries- even when I am not respecting my own.

“Not a day goes by where I don’t enjoy your company- even on our rest days when everyone else is being a pill. You are the first person I’ve ever willingly propositioned as well- something I never thought I’d be able to do.”

Astarion tries to remind himself that this is all part of his act- he’s failing miserably. He really went and fucked up his own plan over choosing the wrong person. Maybe Shadowheart would have been the better choice for the sake of his sanity and his emotions. At least he knew what Shadowheart wanted. Your expression is unreadable and Astarion begins to feel anxious.

“But if you would like to include Shadowheart- I could tr-,” he begins slowly.

“NO!” You shout and cause both of you to jump, “No, Astarion. I definitely don’t want to include Shadowheart. I would like to keep our recreational activities and whatever we are doing to just us. I suppose I was just insecure because I have basically no sexual experience and evidently you do and she does and- nevermind! It was a dumb thought. “I want you to know- I don’t think less of you for everything with Cazador,” you say reassuringly, “you are not broken or a thing to be used. I couldn’t imagine enduring that kind of suffering for 200 years and Gods I hate that wretched man even more!!! But thank you for sharing all of that with me. It couldn’t have been easy so thank you for letting me get to know you more. I certainly cannot wait to parade Cazador’s head around on a stick with you through Baldur’s Gate.”

He lets out a choked laugh at your statement. Astarion holds you closer for a moment- trying to keep you from seeing his tears. You don’t look upon him with pity- every terrible story he tells you is regarded as what it is and you make him feel empowered to talk about these things. You don’t see Astarion as broken- you see him as brave and strong.

“Maybe a little dumb,” he teases, before looking at you softly, “but can I ask- does that mean you are only looking at me too? Or should I be anticipating a conversation about Halsin in the future?”

Astarion is asking in a joking tone, but he is scared to hear your answer. Halsin is the newest member in your weird little camp and he definitely has his eyes on you.

Astarion is positive that, whatever souls are made of- yours and his are the same. You understand him on an entirely different level and he is almost positive he would do anything to convince you to stay with him.

Astarion began talking to you so you would worship him and yet, here he is, worshiping you- as terrifying as that is.

You kiss him and Astarion has never felt more wanted- needed in his whole life. Your lips are soft and necessitous against his. Gently coaxing soft moans from his mouth. You stop to look at him- your face serious.

“I don’t want anyone else,” you say, “asking that was definitely a little dumb.”

Astarion meets you halfway, kissing you over and over again until you are entangled in each other- mind, body, and soul.

That night, for the first time ever, Astarion makes love.