#once upon a time headers

[buckximoff]

Once Upon a time header

[oautincorrectquotes]

Regina: Unbelievable. Something you planned actually worked. If this happens a thousand more times, I may have to rethink my whole perspective of you.

Snow: I love it when you almost respect me.

[anaharaeicons]

| Olá, por favor, você poderia fazer icons e Headers da Merida de Once Upon a Time? Obrigada 🏹 |

[newrulesedits]

adelaide kane as drizzella layouts.

┋▸ like/reblog if you like/save them.

⁏ ↷ credits to @idgafdob on Twitter.

wait five seconds for better quality.

collage headers aren’t mine, I just added the psd.

[artiemisia]

⊹ once upon a time… in hollywood headers ɞ..

like or reblog if you save

don't repost

[sayre-m]

🍎 “ Evil Queen || Headers P&B 2

[ssorenz]

everybody knows that im a good girl officers!

pairing: . ݁₊ ⊹ .: sukuna ryomen n’ toji fushiguro

synopsis : . ݁₊ ⊹ baking gone wrong! (or maybe right in your case?)

contains: sexual content MDNI, spanking, degradation, full nelson position, double penetration, blah blah blaaaah.. wc: im honestly not even sure

header from: . ݁₊ ⊹: lady k and the sick man

a/n :BABE WAKE UP, DSIIRES FINALLY POSTED 🗣️‼️ but all jokes aside, hii loveliess im back 😊!! i decided to finally post something, and since this was sitting in my drafts, why not post it? i do admit the ending is kind of rushed, so please forgive me🙇🏽‍♀️ but i hope you all enjoy, comments and requests are gladly appreciated! <3

sweet, sugary, scents of vanilla and cinnamon danced throughout the air as sunlight streamed in through your lace curtains, casting warm, golden hues upon your kitchen countertops.

baking flour dusted your cheeks as a determined glint shined in your eyes, precisely measuring the ingredients for the cake you were baking. it was your best friends birthday, after all. what better way to surprise her than with a home-baked cake?

once the cake pans were safely in the oven, you let out a sigh of relief. this morning had been dedicated to baking, and you were longing for a moment of relaxation. retrieving your cellphone, you settled onto the couch, letting your mind wander as you scrolled away through the screen to pass the time for a few minutes.

but minutes turned into moments, and the once familiar, sweet aroma began to fade away. a faint whiff of something burning wafted into your nose, snapping you out of your current reverie.

panicked, you rushed to the oven, heart pounding in your chest. smoke billowed from the oven, tendrils curling ominously towards the ceiling.

with a gasp, you yanked open the oven door, greeted by a charred mess where your sweets once stood. panicking, you frantically reached for your phone and dialed the fire department.

standing anxiously outside your house, you clutched her phone tightly, desperately awaiting for the distant sound of sirens to signal the arrival of the fire department.

soon enough, the welcoming wail of an approaching engine filled your ears—and within moments, the fire truck came to a brief halt in front of your home. two firefighters emerged from the truck, and as they stepped onto the pavement, their imposing figures caught your attention.

the first firefighter, with a rugged build and striking pinkish hair, exuded confidence as he surveyed the scene. beside him, stood his colleague, tall and commanding with dark black hair, his presence radiating confidence as well as cockiness.

the males strode up to you, their boots echoing against the pavement. the salmon-haired one with distinct facial tattoos— who’s badge read S. RYŌMEN, glared at you with annoyance while his counterpart surveyed the area.

"alright, what's the deal here? we got a call about some sorta emergency, but I'm not seeing any flames. don't tell me we rushed over here for nothin’.” he spoke, his deep voice carrying an air of authority.

the raven-haired officer's— who’s badge read T. FUSHIGURŌ—eyebrows knitted together, his deep, husky, voice tinged with irritation. "are we being pranked here, girl?" he questioned snarkily, his skepticism evident as he glanced around the seemingly ordinary surroundings. however, as you apologized and ushered them inside, their expressions softened slightly, replaced by a mix of curiosity and concern.

as they stepped into the kitchen— their boots leaving faint imprints on the linoleum floor— a wave of smoke greeted them, swirling lazily in the air. the acrid smell of burnt pastries hung heavy, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere in the room. ryōmen coughed lightly, his hand instinctively reaching for the collar of his uniform to cover his nose.

fushigurō sighed heavily as his gaze fixed on the charred remnants of what was once a baking sheet. "well, would you look at that? someone tried playing chef but ended up setting the kitchen on fire," the black-haired officer he muttered, his annoyance palpable in the air as he casually observed the smoke-filled chaos before him.

“i'm so sorry for the false alarm," you apologized, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "I was trying to bake a cake and—well—things got a bit…out of hand…”

the pair exchanged glances, then moved swiftly, their practiced efficiency a stark contrast to the mess you had inadvertently created. they quickly ventilated the room, opening windows and turning on fans to dispel the lingering smoke. as they moved, they checked for any remaining embers or hotspots, ensuring that the fire was completely out and that there was no risk of it reigniting.

as the firefighters continued their work, you couldnt help but stare. their tall, bulked figures were much larger compared to your own. the way you could hear their subtle grunts as they finished up their job…

lets just say, your mind definitely started to wander elsewhere..

ryōmen kneeled down and inspected the oven, his brow furrowing deeper. "looks like yer’ cake batter overflowed and caught fire," he remarked, his voice tinged with frustration. "next time, keep an eye on the oven temperature."

yet of course, you werent paying him any attention listening, too deep in the wet daydream that was playing idly in your mind. the pink-haired officer stood up and cleared his throat, “miss?”

you jumped, his voice snapping you out of the ���daydream” you were having. you nodded vigorously, feeling the heat of embarrassment flush your cheeks. "i will—i promise. thank you both so much for coming so quickly."

you hurried to your cupboard to get them some water. rummaging through your cabinets, you managed to find a couple of clean glasses, and filled them with cool water from the tap. when you returned, they were just finishing up, their equipment neatly packed away.

"here," you said, offering the glasses. "please, have some water. it's the least i can do."

fushigurō took a glass with a nod of thanks, while his partner accepted the other with a grin. "thanks," he said, "surprised ya’ didnt burn the water this time…”

you couldn't help but chuckle softly, the tension of the situation easing slightly with the joke. "i try my best," you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. "but m’ really sorry for the trouble. is there any way i can make it up to you both?"you offered, hoping to ease the tension in the room and show your gratitude for their prompt response.

ryōmen glanced at his partner before responding, his expression twisting mischievously.

he placed his glass down as he leaned back on the kitchen table, his tall figure towering over you darkly.

“you said you’re really sorry, hm?” he spoke lowly, his crimson eyes now lowering, gazing onto you.

you nodded eagerly, unsure of what he was implying. “um, well— yes of course-“

the officers lust-laced voice spoke words you doubted you would ever hear…

"then prove it."

so here you were— half-naked in your living room, in a standing full nelson position, sandwiched between the two men that were once standing in your kitchen—now both pounding you silly.

your helpless mewls mixing with the lewd squelches your cunt made filled the empty silence in the room. fushigurō’s long, thickness was so prominent as it kneaded itself against your g-spot, making you fall into a cock-drunk daze.

"that feel good, huh'?", toji muttered, gazing lasciviously into your eyes while supporting your legs high. it was so intimate— but so naughty too, the way he was so filthy..

you nodded in reply, clearly too overstimulated to speak properly. luckily, sukuna was quick to amend your actions—sending a swift, sharp, strike against your ass.

"didn't he ask you a question? say it properly, slut, don't make us waste our breath like you did our time now," he snarled behind you. his strokes were so rugged and mean, much meaner than tojis (which was unsurprisingly fitting for the man), making you whimper breathlessly from the pleasure.

"f-feels s'good tojiiiii—“ you whined out the name in reply, hiccuping. it was true, the way they both grinded against each other, inside of you, leaving you trembling, aching with pleasure. this position requiring them hit harder, deeper, inside of your soaked, throbbing slit— it was too much.

"good fuckin' girl, look at ya'— squeezin' us so tight. yer takin' us so well," fushiguro commented, leaning in for a kiss. his scarred lips passionately met your own, letting out a soft, suppressed groan. he went deeper into the kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth.

his hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him as he continued thrusting into you from the front. meanwhile, his counterpart pounded away at your stuffed cunt relentlessly; each stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending in both your bodies.

you found yourself lost in this sensual haze of double penetration bliss— moaning uncontrollably into toji’s mouth while feeling your hole being stretched to its limits by these two. your entire world consisted of nothing but the rhythmic movement between your legs and the taste of salty sweat on fushigurō's lips as ryōmen whispered dirty nothings into your ear that only fueled your desire even more.

sukuna’s hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he pounded into you harder than before, his breathing becoming ragged in your ear with each passing second. toji followed suit by grabbing one of your legs and lifting it up high enough for him to hit a new angle inside of you— sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout every inch of your being.

“filthy whore— paying your debt with—ngh.. dick,” sukuna began, still thrusting into you, but at a much irregular pace now. “who knew such a seemingly innocent thing like you could be so dirty.. starin’ us, shit, up and down like slabs of meat..”

as the intensity of their movements increased, so did the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your body. you felt like you were on the brink of orgasm yourself— and apparently so did ryōmen and fushigurō. both men let out loud grunts, no longer holding back, and began to thrust deeper. it was painfully clear that they were close to reaching their climaxes.

“damn, m’so fuckin’ close— ya gonna let us cum inside? knock up this— fuck, tight ass cunt of yers’?” toji grunted.

"please," you begged between gasps for air, "cum inside me...need it..so badly.” your voice was hoarse from the countless moans and whines that ehshshsh. your whiny, raspy pleas and helpless cries were enough to send both men over the edge. so, with one final push from fushigurō and a deep moan from ryōmen, both men came inside of you simultaneously - painting every crevice with their warming, sticky ropes of essence.

as they both released inside of you, your body was hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced. your cunt clenched tightly around their cocks as they emptied themselves into you, milking every last drop from their swollen, pulsating shafts.

your eyes rolled back into your head— a mixture of pain and ecstasy that left you breathless moments afterward. tears streamed down your face from the sheer intensity of the orgasm that coursed through every inch of your limp body.

the room was silent for a moment as the three of you caught your breath. you could feel their cum slowly dripping out of you as the two men pulled out, leaving behind a sticky mess beneath them.

looking up, toji’s lust-filled stare met your own, a small scar-ridden smirk decorating his face. “that was fuckin’ incredible, god,” he said before ryōmen spoke teasingly behind you..

“but you know, theres better ways to get fucked then damn near burning your house down..”

[little-diable]

Kinktober Day 1 - Jasper Hale

Here we go – my favourite month is finally upon us! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🖤 Blood 🖤

Warnings: 18+, smut, rough piv, blood play

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (700 words)

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

header by @theanythingbuthuman 🤍

The room was barely alight, only a few candles were offering some flickering guidance. (Y/n) had lost all sense of time, unsure how long she and Jasper had been hiding away in her bedroom, finding comfort in one another’s presence as they chased one high after another.

“Can you take another, darlin’?” His voice had a slight condescending touch to it, leaving her choking on a “Yes”. The vampire smirked down at her, losing himself in his thoughts about his mate - seconds she used to flip him around, straddling his waist.

“It’s my turn now.” Not once had she done this before, preferring to have Jasper guiding their moments together. But something had shifted inside of her today, something that left (y/n) ending up right here, sinking down on his cock while his eyes turned into a darker shade. Her walls fluttered around him, holding onto his cock while he impatiently bucked his hips.

(Y/n) could tell that Jasper was struggling to hold himself back, but perhaps it was also the fault of the small dagger she reached for. Somewhere along the way, they had begun to include knives into their back and forth, Jasper liked to tease her with the cold metal, seeing the excitement swim in her pupils. But not once had he cut her, always careful not to harm her.

Her fingers trembled as she brought the tip of the dagger up to her pointer finger, smirking down at Jasper. (Y/n) knew that she could trust him fully, knowing that he would never risk her safety, and yet her heart still skipped a few beats the second she lightly cut her skin. The groan leaving Jasper made her gasp, keeping her eyes focused on him before bringing her bleeding finger up to his lips.

They held eye contact as he parted his lips, eyes filled with an unfamiliar sensation she hadn’t seen thump through his system until this very moment. He was struggling, knowing that he needed to do something before the predator inside of him could gain the upper hand, so he flipped her around again, hovering over (y/n) to roughly fuck into her.

“Oh, fuck, Jas’.” She was close to screaming, wide eyed staring at the man who fucked her harder than ever before probably. He was high on the taste of her blood, knowing that he would be forever addicted to it, unable to ever forget about the no longer foreign taste.

Sounds she couldn’t pinpoint left him, blending together with the sounds of their bodies meeting with every ferocious thrust. (Y/n) knew that her overstimulated body wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, not expecting him to react like that to her taste, a single drop which had elevated his mood to new levels.

She felt him deep inside of her, close to destroying the metallic frame of her bed with how roughly he moved. And yet she didn’t find it in herself to complain, both were too far gone, (y/n) with her body trembling with need, Jasper with eyes that were close to turning so black that even night itself would fear the depth of the darkness he emenated.

“Jas,” (y/n) choked on his name as she came. With her head thrown back, with her fingernails scratching at his skin, she let her orgasm clash through her. Jasper kept snapping his hips against hers, burying himself inside of her with a strength he’d apologise for later on.

(Y/n) lost her grip on reality, allowing him to use her body while he came himself, falling over the edge with a choked out groan. With her last ounce of strength, she pulled him down for a kiss, letting their tongues meet while he pulled out of her.

“Are you hurt, darlin’?” Jasper’s voice was rougher, lower, still high on the scent and taste of her blood. She could only shake her head, too far gone to put her thoughts into proper words, and yet (y/n) couldn't help but pull Jasper closer, needing to feel him with his arms wrapped around her to guide her to safety.

[loveyouprongs]

are you awake?

prompt: "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." remus lupin x reader

upcoming content: fluff! pls lmk if u think i missed anything. 1.8k words

authors note: despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!

masterlist

you had no idea what time it was, your phone abandoned on the night stand atop remus' book. he had come over in a huff, one hand holding his cellphone, keys, and book all at once, the other holding a warm cup of hot chocolate he had picked up along the way.

"rem, is that you?" you called, fumbling with wrapping a towel around your just washed hair while keeping the other towel tucked under your arms. you weren't expecting to see him today at all, he had, in his own words, a fucking shitload of reading to catch up on and planned on spending the entire weekend holed up in his room.

you understood, having just finished your own finals, so you planned on spending the evening watching movies and finally removing the old nail polish that decorated your toes and repainting them. an easy, uneventful night.

“yeah, it’s me dove,” remus said, bending down to untie his laces, “sorry for just barging in on you like thi- did you just take a shower?”

he snapped his head up and drank you in, your body still damp from the hot water and the ends of the towel wrapped around your chest fell apart against your thigh revealing more of your smooth skin. your face was free of makeup or the tendrils of hair that constantly fell between your eyes that remus always brushed away.

“y’don’t have to do that every time, remus,” you said on your fourth date when his fingertips danced against your forehead once more that evening.

“you have to be able to see, darling, i don’t mind,” he replied as if this was something he was doing as a favor to you and not because he was so desperate to touch you in any way.

you looked beautiful, he thought.

“thank you, baby,” you let out, giggling at the sigh of your boyfriend still bent half over himself, looking up at you as if you would disappear if he wasn’t.

“did i say that out loud?”

“you did.”

“well, it’s true,” he had since walked over to you, setting his phone, keys, book and cup on the table and grasped at your shoulders, stamping a kiss to your forehead. in this moment, he felt all his tension wash away and reveled in the feeling of your warm skin under his and the vanilla scent of your shampoo wafting around him. he didn’t even remember why he was in such an annoyed mood earlier until you asked him how come he came over.

“ugh, i have to move out!” he exclaimed. this is something remus said maybe four times a week, seven if it was really bad. when james left his dishes piled up in the sink for too long, “i have to move out!” remus would say while ranting to you over breakfast the next day. when they went on a trip for a few days and sirius forgot to pack any underwear so he took it upon himself to borrow remus’, you woke up to a text from your boyfriend that simply read “i have to move out.” sent at 2:18 a.m. then “good morning” at 2:19 a.m. and “you better not be awake right now, dovey” at 2:20 a.m.

“what happened this time?”

“was trying to study ‘til those idiots had the bright idea of rolling bottles down the stairs, i mean who even thinks of that?”

you had to bite your lip to keep in your laughter. you had seen that trend all down your social media so you knew exactly where they got the idea from. but your sweet remus who had no profiles whatsoever, -unless you count the facebook page he made when james told him he had to have one at least-

“what do you mean it doesn’t count? you can share photos and talk to people.”

“it’s facebook! only mums use it. i’m making you a BeReal.”

“you’re making me be real?”

“oh, nevermind.”

had no idea and believed this was just another stupid activity his roommates shared brain cell came up with.

“i don’t know, remmy, people are weird,”

“right? anyway, i sat through listening to ‘clunk, clunk, clunk, smash! again, again, again!’ for about fifteen minutes before i had to get out of there so i thought to come here.”

a warmth started growing within your chest and spreading throughout your entire body. he thought to come here, to your place. your lanky, fluffy haired, nerdy boyfriend who you loved so so much thought to come to you. the smile that had spread across your face was so wide you knew remus knew exactly how you were feeling.

“don’t go all moony eyed on me now, sweetness,” he began, “i’m here because i still have a lot of work to do.”

“of course”

“with no distractions, at least for the next few hours,” he was looking down at you with a familiar look in his eye and you couldn’t even bother to feign cluelessness. the image of remus bent over a book, concentrated look on his face and glasses slowly slipping down his nose was irresistible to you and when you two studied together, it caused a lot of assignments to go untouched.

“alright, i’ll leave you be. but i expect some form of compensation for my good behavior.”

“hence the hot chocolate, for you dove,” he handed you the tall paper cup he had brought in with him and you smiled as it was still warm enough to drink.

“oh wow, my boyfriend and a hot chocolate? it’s like my birthday!” you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and started setting himself up at your kitchen table.

“you can’t say that whenever i get you something, you need to have higher expectations for your birthday silly girl, or i really will just get you a drink and that’ll be it.” he said and the last thing he heard was you laughing down the hallway.

hours had passed and your hair was dry, toe nails now a light peachy color, and one and a half movies had been watched. you mainly kept to your room, only coming out to get a drink and set some biscuits out for remus who hadn’t even looked up. you were sure a bomb could off in the building across the street and he wouldn’t notice. he was so concentrated that all you wanted to do was press your fingers to his temples and relieve his pretty face of the wrinkles, surely his eyes were sore as well, but you knew better than to bother him.

it wasn’t until it was dark out that remus had finally slumped against your bedroom door and trudged like a zombie to your bed, face planting right into your lap. his calves were hanging over the edge so you grabbed his face and shuffled yourselves closer to the headboard. remus was laughing, the feel of his lips tickling your stomach, and with that information he only began to blow raspberries on your belly button.

“remus stop i’m serious!” you let out and lifted his head up, your hands pushing his cheeks up causing his lips to reach up into a smile. he looked so soft, and happy, but obviously tired.

“‘m finished with all m’reading, dove,” his speech was slurred, surely from exhaustion.

“i’m very proud of you baby, you’re so hard working.”

he wrapped the comforter around both of you, and flipped onto his side, pressing his back to your front. he must have been really out of it because he never let you be the big spoon.

“but don’t you like being held?”

“i like holding you. besides it just makes more sense that way, i’m much taller.”

“there’s no sense to cuddling!”

“there’s sense to everything!”

“i am hard working! and they don’t care, all they care about is smashing things and making lots of noise. i have to move out.” he grumbled.

you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him mumble on, knowing he’ll soon fall asleep.

“well, you’re always welcome here, my love.”

he sighed and pressed a kiss to your wrist, “i know,” he spoke softly, the two words so full of content he could hardly stand it. he thought every day how lucky he was to have you in his life. a love full of soft kisses and hot chocolates and intertwining under moonlight. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, now get some sleep.”

the night had come and gone, remus sleeping away in your arms and the sun was shining through your curtains. you slowly lifted your arm off him and felt around for your phone, careful not to disturb him. the screen flashed 10:15 a.m., meaning remus had been sleeping for close to twelve hours now.

it made sense due to how tired he was yesterday, but you had done nothing but relax, so your body was ready to get up and start the day. you answered a few messages telling marlene you’d had to get back to her about if you and remus could make it to brunch in a few hours and sending a rolling eyes emoji to james who sent you a number of videos of bottles rolling down the stairs.

remus shifted, unconsciously flexing his back, and you froze. it wasn’t until he began cracking his knuckles individually that you knew he was awake, you still asked though.

“are you awake yet.”

“no.”

“oh, okay, sorry.”

“mmm.”

two minutes passed, “are you awake now.”

“are my eyes open?”

“no, but you are speaking to me, and this isn’t what you usually say when you sleep talk.”

“i don’t sleep talk!” he let out, craning his neck to look at you perplexedly.

“got you to open your eyes, didn’t i?” you said with a wry smile. his look of confusion morphed into annoyance that you both knew was fake and he fully turned so you were both facing each other now.

“i haven’t slept that good in a long time,” he said lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.

“finals are over now, rem, you can sleep for as long as you want.”

he smiled and tangled your fingers together, opening his mouth to say something back when his stomach rumbled loudly.

“that wasn’t very sexy, was it?”

you giggled and shook your head, finally throwing the covers off yourself.

“nope, but that’s okay, marlene wants us to meet her for brunch in thirty minutes, so we better get a move on, sleepy head.”

remus groaned and reached for his designated dresser from the bed and pulled out whatever shirt and bottoms were on the top of the piles. the two of you got ready in comfortable silence and while you were sitting on the floor, pulling up the zipper on your boots, remus realized that he really could see himself moving in here. always doing his course work at your kitchen table, picking up a hot drink for you at the coffee shop two streets away, not because it was on his way to you, but because it was on his way home.

“ready, baby?” you asked, now standing at full height, holding your hand out to him.

i’m ready to wake up here every morning. “ready,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours.

[lilacxquartz]

in an attempt to teach you;

mr. silvair x f!reader

plot: mr. silvair who found you to be an intellectual curiosity, took it upon himself in teaching you anatomy — themes: heavily suggestive, limited dialogue, mutual pining, everything is consensual here but he’s unsettling lol — a/n: this will be continued in january :) — w.c: 1.6k

ao3 • masterlist • part 2 >

(header by @devotion-disorder, used with permission which inspired the fic :) pls go check out their blog <3)

The ghost apartments were far from being the safest places that you could have ended up in, but it was still early on in your exploration, too. Many uncertainties popped up along the way and ultimately, you somehow found your way back in Mr. Silvair’s care each and every single time.

Your latest ailment left your stomach in pain though, following a particularly nasty tumble in the dark. Thankfully though, Mr. Silvair was quite good at mending you, or at least in giving you a place to recover at your own pace, however, what with how you seemed to be in more distress than usual, his curiosity piqued in a different way this time.

As you curled up on the sofa, you gasped at his sudden arrival, your body flinching ever so slightly at the looming sight. Mr. Silvair then pressed up his calloused palm right against your abdomen without warning (likely to inspect it) but then in doing so, you reacted negatively to the sudden intrusion and as a result, ended up pulling away.

At first, Mr. Silvair simply just looked down at you, his thoughts unclear, and after a long enough silence had passed between the two of you, he finally tilted his head off to the side, seeming almost… confused? He tried again, asking for a word that you didn’t yet understand, maintaining some distance per your quiet request (or at least for now).

“…####?”

You blinked, your face blanking in confusion.

Mr. Silvair, ever determined to pursue any sort of curiosity didn’t waver in his conveyed approach, immediately reaching to pinch at your soft skin and when you reacted negatively—he repeated the word. He did the same to his own flesh—his nose wrinkling up when he did so as if he didn’t like the sensation—repeating the term again and again in that same quizzical tone.

Finally, you got it. He was asking if you were hurting.

“Pain?” he asked once more, the word registering at last.

You slowly nodded, thinking that he would perhaps take a step back and leave you be, but he stayed right where he was. Warily, your gaze followed his curious hands over to your stomach, asking yet even more words that you couldn’t yet comprehend.

What with the language barrier being ever frustrating, Mr. Silvair’s lips curled into a frown due to the lack of understanding alone, but ultimately, his determination didn’t falter, now seeming more motivated than ever before.

“Me,” he pointed at himself, gesturing out words that you already did know, “teach,” he added, his fingers travelling in your direction, “you,” before returning them to settle at his lips, “language?”

You nodded.

“Me, teach you…” Mr. Silvair repeated quicker that time, although allowing his words to trail off as he considered the right approach, gesturing at your general form, “…####?”

The way that he repeated the mystery word over and over left you wondering if he was asking about your general anatomy, with your suspicions were made clear when he repeated the same actions towards his own body—proving that it was just as you had initially thought.

“My… body?” you repeated, swirling a pointed finger around your physique, interpreting that perhaps, he wanted to teach you more words that related to it. Perhaps, his intentions were genuine, since you were actively in pain and maybe, just maybe, he wanted to help you recover. Still though, you held onto some retained suspicion, knowing that Mr. Silvair’s curiosity could either be a good thing or… it could be something else entirely.

Continuing onwards, Mr. Silvair carried on before any of those negative thoughts in your mind had a chance to linger. The last thing he wanted was for you to negatively react to his presence, especially so early on and so, with a flick of his wrist, he pointed towards your head, repeating a set of familiar words as his exploration gradually traveled down your body.

“Eyes? Nose? Lips?” he asked, making sure to ask words that you already knew before tracing a light touch along your neck, the sensation feeling almost tender. “...####?”

“My… neck?” you gulped, feeling your throat swallow beneath his firmly appointed digits that remained pressed against your vulnerable skin. It wasn’t exactly painful, but the pressure was tight enough to make you feel nervous.

“####?” he asked again, smoothing out a brushing touch along your shoulders, feeling a flicker of satisfaction when you understood him the way that he wanted you to.

At this point on, you were beginning to feel almost nervous as his hands kept traveling down, but also… curious. The way his fingers pinched and tugged at what you wore though, was a clear indication that he didn’t like what you had on (perhaps finding it to be an obstacle of some sort) and so you found yourself giving into his silent request. As though to play it as safely as possible, you removed the raincoat you wore, revealing your dress-clad form just beneath—the fabric slightly frayed.

Mr. Silvair’s gaze lingered somewhat, almost clinically, before moving on and repeating a few more familiar words as he swept his touch across what you both already understood between one another. He then lifted his hands ever so slightly, peppering a feather-light dab of his fingertips before tracing a line down your collarbones, feeding you an understanding of that word, before running the pad down to where your cleavage began.

Feeling your breath hitch, you weren’t sure how to respond. Usually, if a man was so brazenly forward with you—you would try to push them away, perhaps even scold them if need be—and yet, you didn’t actually dislike this development (and maybe even enjoyed it). Indeed, there was something… particular… about Mr. Silvair that left you feeling a certain way. Perhaps it was unease, but it was also something different—something intimate.

And then all of a sudden, he leaned in close, allowing for your form to be swallowed up by his looming presence. It seemed that this was technically a process that he built up to, but you were otherwise too overwhelmed and lost in your own thoughts to have ever noticed the progression. Tensing up right away, your breath hitched as he moved in closer, anticipating something—anything—you weren’t quite sure what, to finally happen.

Mr. Silvair’s execution was painstakingly slow as if reading into your body language before finalising his next move. For a moment, you weren’t at all sure what to expect, but then you felt a cold bead of something trickle down your spine as his hands fumbled with something just out of reach, leading you to understand that he dropped the zipper to your dress.

Had you not been in such a stunned silence, you would have done more to cover up your now exposed form—but you didn’t.

You simply sat still and Mr. Silvair simply just… watched, as if assessing his next move.

Taking a moment to appreciate your form, Mr. Silvair broke through the tension by approaching you, helping you shuffle out of the restrictive fabric, reading into the situation, and making sure, that you were at the very least, not opposed in the direction that this whole interaction was headed in. Forcing yourself to remain calm, you didn’t turn him away either as his hands smoothed over your bare breasts next, informing you of yet another word, and when his fingers tweezed around the stiff peaks of your nipples, another word slipped out.

Mr. Silvair then continued along this route, using your accepting silence to move lower and lower, until finally, his touch met at your stomach. He paused momentarily, noticing a deep, slightly raised bruise and for a second, a wave of concern passed through him—causing him to pause in his tracks before continuing onwards as soon as he determined it was okay to do so—wanting for the new-found intimacy between the two of you to last.

You didn’t stop him all the while—not even as his fingertips dipped lower and lower—not even as they pushed into the apex of your inner thighs. No, there was something tender about this shared moment that left you craving more of it.

And feeling as his fingers moved along and stroked along your heated sex, you couldn’t help but reactively curl your fingers into tight fists, almost straining at the implication. Your face quickly grew flushed, squeezing your legs tight much to his confusion, causing him to withdraw ever so slightly.

Mr. Silvair paused, the concern returning. “...Pain?”

However, you shook your head.

“Sad? Happy?” he continued, cycling through a whole range of emotions, trying to determine what was wrong—if anything was wrong at all.

“H-Happy,” you repeated which he seemed to understand, widening his smile as a result.

Mr. Silvair then continued on with confidence, taking hold of your hand that time around, watching as you grew all the more embarrassed from the way he pulled you closer—guiding your hand towards him in a similar way—allowing you to touch where his—his—oh!

Your eyes grew wide as he settled your touch over his length, which was initially soft, watching—feeling with you—as he quickly grew hard.

Mr. Silvair paused, his face adopting a reddish hue as he seemed to finally understand what you meant by feeling ‘happy’, his mind racing with all sorts of new ideas and curiosities alike. However, he stopped himself, choosing to at least conclude the examination, teaching you how to next address your thighs, knees and feet next, before returning to the initial issue at hand—the pain.

And once it was settled—once you were fixed, then perhaps he could explore something different with you next time.

(Something that could make you both feel ‘happy’?)

[saintslewis]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

— drabble.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: the sun shined on the man himself, the one to break records, the one to raise the golden trophy.

warnings: outfit links, cussing, loads of happy tears, suggestive themes.

saint’s team radio 🪩: lewis mf hamilton won his 104th so you knowwwwwww i had to do it. thank you all for 1k and this is just the start of the celebration. congratulations to my husband 🥳 tags down below! (i put nads in the header but shhhhh)

pls like, comment and reblog 💗

Tying your shoelaces, you stood up straight and looked at yourself in the mirror. Fidgeting around with your hair and jewellery, you took several breaths to calm yourself down.

The previous day, Lewis took p2 for qualifying. It’s a well known fact that Silverstone is his playground but anything could happen, this race could go any which way and that’s what scared you the most.

“Should I take a jacket?” You called out to Lewis who was in his closet, most likely picking out his jewellery. “It won’t get too cold but I’ll take one for you.” He spoke, stepping out of the closet in his red ensemble, donning different types of pearls this time around and his black timbs shining.

Your eyes fell to his silhouette in your peripheral view and you turned your head so that your gaze fell upon him. He looked good, his head was high as he strode into the room with a special aura around him. You were always someone who had faith in anything Lewis does on track, no matter the place he finishes the race in, often treating a P7 like a podium.

The past two and a half years have been incredibly tough on Lewis and his mental health, often bringing himself down in the expense of his team’s terrible strategies. Finding it hard to wake up each and every day with a pained smile on his face whenever he walked into any paddock around, he knew he had his family as his biggest cheerleaders. Including you. In your wedding vows, he acknowledged how eternally grateful he was for you even after all the hardships he endured.

“Are we seriously matching?” Your shoulders dropped once you realised you were both wearing red. “I don’t know, I find it cute.” He smiled, giving you a wink and a pat on the ass before walking out of the room. Shaking your head, you fixed up your appearance before reaching for your handbag and you were out of the house in the nick of time. Confirming the logistics of bringing Roscoe along, you hopped in the same SUV and headed off to the track.

SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT

You poorly underestimated the weather that Silverstone would bring but as your husband promised, you had a jacket around your shoulders since the weather was predicted to change during the race. As nervous as you were, you walked and spoke with pure confidence.

Ever since you stepped in the paddock, eyes never strayed from the Hamilton family, more than usual. You had brushed it off and stayed in the garage along with your in-laws, your arms were around Willow’s shoulders as the national anthem concluded and teams were ready to start the race.

“Hopefully we’ll hear that again.” Carmen smiled at you as she took her seat next to you. “I’m hoping for a trophy lift of some sort.” You returned the smile and placed Willow on your lap as you sat down.

Anthony had appeared on screen, standing by Lewis with a straight face while looking at his son fix his balaclava. Anyone with eyes knew the energy that exuded from the 5 second clip, that was Lewis’ dad knowing that his son was not going to finish lower than P4.

You had already given him good luck hugs and kisses but your hands were still shaking because you knew anything could happen. Your heart calmed when your eyes landed on the crowd across the track and how so many of them were there to cheer for Lewis. Seas of the neon yellow your husband donned were strategically positioned in front of his garage and you could feel the support from your seat.

From lap 20, you couldn’t sit still but you tried your best to keep your seat as he stayed within the top 4. The beast that was the w15 was swiftly moving across the track and never slid even when the rain appeared.

George’s car rolled in the car after it was announced that he would retire from the race and your heart slightly sank although it made you slightly happy. The drivers behind Lewis weren’t exactly kind when it came to fighting for the number one spot but they hadn’t raced against Lewis in a long time so they were messing up strategies left right and centre as Lewis drove.

He was reminding people who the fuck he was in real time.

By the time the McLarens and the singular Ferrari had pitted by lap 44, you knew Lewis had this win or at least second place but your husband doesn’t exist to be second. You stood from your seat and joined Anthony at the edge of the garage, your right hand on your chest as your breaths became quicker with your left hand on your hip.

Tears prickled your eyes as Lewis stayed the race leader and as lap 52 began, a tear of joy slid down your face with the pit team already climbing the fence right next to the finish line. The crowd’s cheers overpowered that of Mercedes’ garage as the sun shined on his car, the top of his helmet glowing.

“Oh my God!” You screamed, your hands flailing about as your father in law celebrated next to you and eventually brought you into a bear hug. A wave of different emotions came over you as you tried to catch your breath and you were able to compose yourself as cameras came rushing to the garage.

Walking with your in laws to parc femme, you watched Lewis park the car and wrap the flag around his shoulders, the crowd cheering even louder than before. He embraced his father and you could see his shoulders slightly bouncing and your heart was pounding at the thought of him crying under the helmet. Eventually prepping himself for his post-race interview, he ran over to where you stood with his family.

His eyes caught your tearful ones just after he let go of his mom’s face. The smile that spread across his face was pure joy and his eyes held so much warmth even though he was a few meters from you. He quickly strode to you and you opened your arms to lock around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you, my love. So proud.” Your voice shook as you moved to hold his face. “I love you.” He said, kissing your forehead and blinked away the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “I love you so much, thank you.” He repeated, squeezing your waist a little then let go of you. Before you could respond, Lewis sent back a smile as he had to continue the interviews.

The podium was as magical as the win itself, drops of the champagne landed on you as he sprayed the crowd but you didn’t mind. Anything to see him smile like he had on that podium.

-

“King of Silverstone, huh?” You smiled as you walked out of the bathroom clad in a silk robe with a surprise hidden underneath. Lewis looked up from his phone, his back against the headboard. Just like the morning before, his gaze fell on your body and he could not take his eyes off you.

He quickly glanced at the time, the digital clock reading 4 am and he thought you two would be utterly exhausted after his celebration party but you had proved him wrong. You sashayed onto the bed and sat next to him with your knees underneath you, his head following you throughout.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me.” Lewis spoke, itching to touch you as his eyes wandered to the cleavage your silk robe displayed as you sat close to your husband. “I’m so proud of you, my love. Never giving up and staying strong throughout everything you went through is admirable.” You praised, your hand at the back of his head with your nails lightly scratching his nape. Although you could tell he was not paying attention.

“Lewis?”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear anything I said?” You chuckled and his eyes finally connected with yours. “Uh…yeah.” He tried to give you an answer but his eyes were then glued on your glossy lips.

Smiling at your husband’s actions, you reached for the knot of the robe and slowly began untying it. “Since today is your day,” Sliding off the soft material of your shoulders, you continued. “You can do whatever you want to me.” Your words were soft yet seductive.

“Anything?” Lewis questioned.

“You deserve it, Sir.”

saint’s notes: i did NAWT mean to take this long with this, oh em gee. i hope you guys love it and yes, i’m still living off the high from July 7th 🫶🏽

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @non-stop-imagines @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @cocobutterqwueen @queenshikongo3 @saturnville @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @arshiyuh @motheroffae @henneseyhoe @shhhchriss

[thought--bubble]

Fear is a game for children

Aemond X Aemond Wife Reader X Daemon

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,716

Canon Aemond Master List

Daemon Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Written for the Dragon friends period smut collab. Based on an ask received by the wonderful @lady-phasma that she so kindly invited us to participate in!

Header by @zaldritzosrose

Please click HERE for the masterlist for this Collab

Warnings:: Mentions of menstruation, Some sexism, Dubious consent, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Multiple partners. (P in V Sex *Brief mention*)

Being married to a Targaryen prince wasn't half as bad as you had initially expected.

Your husband wasn't exactly warm and loving, but he was respectful, performed his marital duty, and made sure that you were comfortable throughout the process.

Yet you yearned for something more. Something other women spoke about. Not just comfort during the act but actual pleasure. The idea is that you did not need to simply be grateful that the act does not hurt but that you could derive actual pleasure from it.

You had brought this topic up to your husband multiple times. Trying to address what you were sure was a sensitive subject with the utmost gentleness.

At first, Aemond would hear nothing of it, only chastising you for your lewdness. But true to form for Aemond, being told that he was inadequate in anything would motivate him, and try he did, and he improved trying difference postions and pacing, preening at your positive encouragement. That came to an abrupt halt once your moonblood reared its head.

You had heard from your mother and other ladies of the court about the benefits of intimate connection with your husband even at this time, yet Aemond was entirely averse to the idea. Unsanitary and of no purpose being his selected terms. You took no offense to this. You knew how stubborn to change Aemond is. His ability to try something new is limited to the training yard or on the back of Vhagar. He had already done more than you had expected.

You learned quickly that the best time to get things from your husband was when he has had some wine. He is much more...... agreeable, in this state.

Viserys' big birthday feast tonight would be the perfect venue. Everyone knew it would most likely be his last so it was expected to be a grand affair, and a grand affair is was.

So, partway through the evening festivities, you find yourself sitting alone with a slightly wine soaked version of your husband. Your fingertips gently tapping on the table. You knew this may be your moment. Your moment to explain to him why this would be a positive for you both and your growing connection.

"Husband," you open conversation gently, your voice soft as snow.

"Wife?" He turns his head toward you, a small wrinkle creasing his forehead.

You love that little wrinkle. The wrinkle that tells you he is listening, that you have his attention even though his eye is not on you.

"Do you remember the conversation we had this morning?"

Aemonds back stiffens slightly, and he turns his head back to facing forward.

"I do. My opinion on the matter has not changed, " he replies dryly. His fingers lightly tapping on the smooth wooden table they rested upon.

"There are benefits, husband." You lower your voice as much as possible,"others have told me....."

He whips his head toward you, bringing his mouth close to the side of your head. "Do not tell me of your lecherous conversations with the dim-witted ladies of this court." He hisses between clenched teeth "it is beneath your station"

You open your mouth to retort but are cut short by a dark chuckle emanating from behind you.

Daemon Targaryen leans against the wall, his frame tall, his shoulders broad. His short white hair slicked back, with a smile that creeps up his face before settling behind his sharp lilac eyes.

"Oh dear nephew! Must you be such a prude? Must be the Hightower in you." Daemon swirls his wine around his goblet, his eyes trained on you, but his words meant for your husband.

"I find myself quite intrigued by your wife's lascivious conversations and would be quite pleased to hear more." he pushes himself off the wall, bringing his free hand to your shoulder, "do continue, princess."

Your words catch in your throat as heat rises to your face. Your husband and his uncle exchange some choice words in hushed tones, but you can't hear them over the rush of blood pounding in your ears.

You are finally torn from your mental whirlwind when your husband abruptly grips your hand pulling you harshly to your feet.

"My wife and I wish to retire. As always, it has been the utmost pleasure to speak with you, uncle. " Aemonds words are polite, yet the venom in his tone could not be clearer.

As your husband pulls you out of the banquet hall and through the corridors of the redkeep, your stomach is doing somersaults. It is not easy to provoke the wrath of your husband. As his wife, he has always used gentle hands with you, though embarrassment is not something he takes lightly.

You try not to imagine the fate that awaits you behind your chamber door, where Aemond will be free to let you know exactly how he feels about the shame you have clearly brought upon him.

The tapping of your feet against the stone floor echoes through the corridors. Your soft steps, your husband's harsh steps, and a third set of steps heavier than yours yet lighter than your husband's and trailing behind you

You audibly gulp before turning your head to glance behind you but before you can fully turn your head your husband yanks you forward.

"Dear uncle. Your accommodations are back towards the hall. I fear you may not be headed in the right direction. " Aemond attempts to exude an air of confidence, but the gentle shake to his voice is unmistakable, especially to a predator like the rogue prince himself.

"You fear a lot of things, sweet nephew, if I am to understand our previous conversation" Daemon continues following you and Aemond through the corridors, even as Aemond increases his pace nearly dragging you along the floor.

"Dragons fly! They do not run!" Daemon chuckles heartily as he picks up his pace as well. You can't help but admire the confidence in his voice, in his swagger. It's something you see Aemond becoming once time has had a chance to mature him.

When you reach your chambers, Aemond practically shoves you through the door. Turning his body hastily in an attempt to get the door shut. Just as the door is near to close in slips, the tip of a boot.

"Uncle," Aemond growls his hands grip the door tightly, his arm muscles flexing.

"Yes, it is me," Daemon chuckles as he pushes through the door as if Aemond is a mere fly he was swatting from his face.

"The hour has grown quite late. My lady wife and I wish to retire... tis hardly the time for company" Aemond holds his arm out towards his uncle in an attempt to corral him back out the open door.

"Oh, but I have been left unsatisfied by our earlier conversation and a dragon...... well, we simply can not go unsatisfied. " Daemon feigns a smile toward Aemond before setting his sights on you.

"Now princess, if you wish for me to take my leave, I will. Just as soon as you tell me the subject of these conversations with the ladies of the court. The conversations that serve to upset my nephew so much." Daemon wiggles his eyebrows at you before settling himself in one of the chairs placed before the hearth in your marriage chambers.

"Well......" You trail off unsure of what you should do. You're placed in a room with two quarreling dragons, and you feel the fire breathing down your neck. You look toward your husband for some guidance, but he simply looks down.

"We speak about girlish things. Things I am sure would bore you greatly, my prince."

"Hmmm...." Daemon scratches his chin, his smirk returning to his face when he sees how uncomfortable Aemond is.

"What kind of girlish things was my dear nephew chastising you for? For I am sure it was not because you spoke of gowns, balls, or childbearing. " Daemon starts to tap his foot, and your stomach curls.

You know the situation you are in. You refuse Daemon and meet his wrath now, or you appease Daemon and meet Aemond's wrath later. You decide you are better off calming your husband then to attempt to avoid the questions asked by the elder dragon prince.

"We spoke of benefits." You clear your throat and pull and the neckline of your gown, the material suddenly tight around your neck and heavy upon your frame.

"This bores me" Daemon drawls annoyed. "What is it?"

"The benefits of...... intimate moments with one's husband... during.... well..... when a lady has her moonblood. " As the words leave your lips, you turn your head to the side in a desperate attempt to not look at your husband.

"Is that it?" Daemon laughs loudly. Though the laughter is not joyful, instead it is condescending.

"Oh, nephew! You are supposed to be a dragon! Yet you fear a little blood?" Daemon stands up hastily from his chair. He casts a sideways look towards Aemond before smirking and making his way to you swiftly, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Uncle......" Aemond voice is a low growl and he stands with his legs spread slightly apart.

"It is wholly unsurprising that you have yet to...... bloody your blade. " Daemon snickers his back, turned away from Aemond, his arm still around your waist. "Such a fearful boy. Now pay attention. I am about to teach you a lesson you would be wise to learn...."

With that, Daemon tightens his grip around your waist, walking you backward toward the bed you share with your husband, pushing you gently until you land softly on your back.

"Nephew. As a dragon....." Daemon leans down, pushing your dress up your legs and around your hips. "Blood is not something we fear." He deftly wraps his fingers around the band of your small clothes, quickly pulling them down your legs before discarding them.

"Come" Daemon beckons Aemond to stand behind him, Aemond stays rooted in place at first but after a sharp look of annoyance from Daemon he slowly walks over until he is behind him.

Daemon brings his hand to your heat opening you up with his fingers. His hands are cold, sending a shiver up your spine.

"Are you sore princess?" Daemon's question pours over you like warm water, the chill running down your spine replaced with a heat.

"Why would she be?" Aemond's voice cuts through your haze briefly.

Daemon pinches his nose before turning to look at Aemond. "Because, ladies can be sore during this time. you tout around all of your knowledge yet do not know this?"

Aemond scoffs and turns his head. "The affairs of women are hardly my concern"

You try to keep the thoughts in your head from displaying on your face.

"The comfort of your wife should be your concern Aemond" Daemon runs his fingers through your folds swiping the pads of his middle and forefinger over your pearl. "however do you cope princess?"

Your back arches slightly at the touch, a soft sigh slipping out from between your lips.

"Such a responsive thing. You are a man of good fortune Aemond. Unfortunate that you have squandered it until now."

Daemon brings his head down between your thighs rolling his tongue over your clit, humming as he goes.

Your reaction is instant. Aemond has never gone down on you at all let alone during your cycle. Your hands quickly find their way into Daemon's hair pulling him closer.

Your eyes shoot open as his slides one cold long finger into your heat, crooking it upwards and exploring your insides. You look for Aemond, slightly raising your head and find him frozen. His one pupil blown and taking in the sight before him.

You moan loudly as the lewd wet sounds of Daemon's mouth sucking and licking at your heat ring loud around the room. You feel that pressure that you have experienced very few times start to build in your lower stomach, tightening like a coil, ready to pop loose at any moment.

Daemon lifts his head from you, your juices and moonblood are a cloudy mixture that drip down his chin.

"Give in for me sweet girl, show your husband what you look like when a man does as he should" Daemon growls as he brings his face back down to your heat, biting gently and sucking harshly on your swollen nub.

The pleasure that had been building in your lower stomach reaches a pinnacle and crashes over you like a wave, your back arching off the bed, nothing else exists for you in this moment aside from your pleasure and the momentary relief you feel from you feminine aches.

The noises you make are unbecoming for a lady of your standing but not even the 7 could keep you quiet now.

Daemon leans back on his haunches, a sly smirk on his face clearly pleased with himself. "And that, dear nephew, is what a satisfied woman looks like, a new view for you, of that i am sure."

Aemond angrily shoves Daemon to the side causing him to lose his balance temporarily.

"You are most welcome princess" Daemon taunts haughtily, he makes no moves to clean off his face instead focused on Aemond who has now lowered his own face to your heat desperately attempting to recreate the scene he just witnessed.

"Slower nephew. There is a build up that must be done"

Aemond slows his movements suddenly, the overstimulation you were feeling calms to a gentle wave of pleasure as your husband flicks his tongue across your sweet pearl.

Daemon gets up and crawls onto the bed kneeling beside you.

"Princess..." He coos directly into your ear while pushing your hair back. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Y-Yes" your breaths are short and broken, each stroke of Aemond tongue across you overstimulated clit cause a small twitch.

"That is good." Daemon brings his lips to yours pushing his tongue into your mouth, the taste of wine and copper fills your mouth heightening your pleasure as it once again builds.

You bring your hands down to Aemond's hair using it as an anchor to hold him in place as you take your pleasure from him rubbing yourself against his prominent nose as he shoves his tongue into your clenching entrance.

Your hips roll as you move climbing up that wall of pleasure once again, Daemon trails bloody kisses down your neck and over your cleavage, before grasping your left breast, kneading the fatty flesh beneath his palm.

"You are taking much longer than I did nephew" He taunts his mouth up against the side of your throat, biting a nibbling at the sensitive flesh there.

Aemond takes this taunt as a challenge pressing two fingers into your core and flattening his tongue against your pearl. His fingers digging into the fatty flesh of your thighs.

The stimulation of your core, mixed with Daemon's tight grip of your breast and needy kisses sends you hurtling back towards your peak.

"Aemond... please Aemond" you gasp as you feel your body tense, a small tremble spreading throughout your entire frame.

"Hmmmm" Aemond hums applying more pressure to your pearl and pushing his fingers into your body at an accelerated pace.

"One more time for us princess" Daemon whispers into your ear, gently biting at the lobe.

"One more!" You gasp out before succumbing to your orgasm.

You gasp loudly, feeling as if you could take all the air in the room into your lungs and it still wouldn't be enough.

Aemond raises his head slowly from between your legs the same mixture dripping down his face and covering the tips of his white hair.

His eye connects with yours as he stands and starts to loosen the laces of his trousers.

Daemon pulls away from your neck and watches Aemond as he pushes himself into your core in one swift motion, his face and hair still covered in your blood, his ravenous eye upon you and his fingers digging so deeply into your thighs you are sure he will soon break skin.

"And now nephew....." Daemon chuckles and slightly pushes back his hair. "you finally look like a dragon"

To be added to taglists click HERE

[littlefireball]

Well you haven't made a Seongjoong x Y/N smut before 😅 1. How about Y/n is their young teacher and Seongjoong are their students (Y/N is that one teacher that everyone thirsts over) Seonghwa is the quiet kid and Hongjoong is his outgoing bestfriend. 2. Seongjoong is in an omegaverse setting at idols and Y/n is their choreographer for a Matz song. (She's a regular choreographer) 3. Seongjoong is at the bar and they ask if y/n if she's open minded

This is my first time requesting for a smut on tumblr or anywhere. I rlly hope this makes it. No pressure take ur time ik books take time to write and i love ur header thingies

thank you for your request! this article is the 3rd one and i add some settings on it

ᴍᴀᴛᴢ|ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ᴘᴇᴛ (ᴍ)

ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴛʜʀᴇᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ|ʙʀᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴘʟᴀʏ (??)|ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ|ᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ|ɪᴍᴘʀɪꜱᴏɴ|

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2ᴋ

Vampire series: San

© Pinterest

They were hungry. They needed something sweet, something delicious to satisfy their perverted desire.

Yet, it was hard. The noxious scent of most humans repulsed them; their blood, far from fresh, bordered on disgusting. Even animal blood, once a palatable substitute, now left Seonghwa and Hongjoong weary. The prospect of hunting human prey, unvisited for months, drove them to the brink of madness.

"I gotta be crazy," remarked Hongjoong, the taste of his drink doing little to quell the emptiness within him. No measure of alcohol could divert his attention from the relentless hunger and thirst.

"We are left with no choice," Seonghwa's lament was tinged with resignation. "Perhaps you should choose that woman, if you can stomach it."

Inclining his head in the direction indicated by Seonghwa, Hongjoong locked eyes with a sexy woman. "Seriously?" he scoffed incredulously. Her blood, he discovered upon smelling it, was anything but enticing. "She appears quite taken with you. Her gaze remains fixed upon you."

"Get off." Hongjoong averted his gaze, eschewing further eye contact. "She's coming." Hongjoong stared at Seonghwa, who emitted a chuckle. "Hey, boy." The woman propped herself against the bar counter, making an overt display of her alluring figure. "Care to join me for a drink?" "Nope, never, thanks.."

"Oh, come on~ It's gonna be so much fun~" With a firm grip on Hongjoong's arm, the woman insisted. "I've said! Just let me go or I'll─" Seonghwa promptly intervened, preventing any potential loss of control by silencing Hongjoong with his hand. "Sorry, he's drunk." Seonghwa offered an apologetic smile, and the woman retreated in a huff.

"What are you doing?! I could have killed her." "Calm down, Hongjoong. Do you wish to be exposed?" "Tsk…No matter how many hunters emerge, I can kill them all." Indeed, there were hunters within the city skilled in tracking down vampires. They must be careful not to overuse their powers lest they be discovered.

"I am not ready to meet my demise just yet." Seonghwa remarked, taking a sip of his beverage. "Shall we leave? This place has grown boring." "Indeed." As they set down their wine glasses, a seductive aroma wafted through the air, enveloping them like a scorching wave.

"Hey, Y/N~You finally~here~" "Wh─why are you drinking that much?!" You came to the aid of your friend, the sexy woman, as she stumbled. "I'm not~drunk~"she slurred. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Today marked the fourth time this week that you had been called to help her.

"Goodness, just go back and don't drink anymore." "No!I have to drink with those two handsome guys~" Turning your head in the direction she indicated, you were met with Seonghwa and Hongjoong's intense gaze. Oh your friend was right, they were the most handsome men you have ever seen.

'Oh shit…did she do something bad to them? Fuck!' You sighed, wishing you could just leave your friend and escape. However, there was no choice but to settle her on the couch and offer them an apology.

"Hmm, hello?" The more you gazed on them, the closer they came to the brink of losing control. Your blood was incredibly alluring, and the delightful flavor enticed them to sink their teeth into your neck. However, they tried their best to resist the temptation. "I am her friend and have come to apologize if she has done anything to upset you…"

"Oh yes, she did something that angered us." Hongjoong said, putting his hands in his trouser pockets, feigning dissatisfaction. "Well, she sexually harassed us."

'What the fuck…' You murmured under your breath. "Um…what can I do to make it up to you? I know just saying sorry is─""Actually, we wanted to just forget about it, but if you want to make it up to us, we are open to that," Seonghwa added.

"I am Seonghwa and he is Hongjoong." You nodded.

"What's your name, lady?"

"Y/N." "Good."

"So, what do you want me to do?" You asked, feeling nervous.

"Let me ask you a question first, Y/N." Seonghwa approached you to meet your gaze at eye level. "Are you open minded?"

—------

You found yourself in a kneeling position on the luxurious sofa, with a silk blindfold covering your eyes. This room was the furthest from the bustling bar, where the distant music and muffled breathing only serve to heighten your sense of unease, causing your heart to quicken its pace.

"Raise up your hand, honey,"Seonghwa's command was followed by a firm grab on the hem of your T-shirt, prompting you to comply with his request to undress. As he couldn't help but express his admiration for your beauty, you whined at shyness.

"Who do you want in the back?" Hongjoong's whispered question against your neck was followed by a trail of kisses. "It doesn't matter…" As you naturally tilted your head to allow him to give you a wet kiss, the excitement grew. "Good, babe. I would be at the front." Hongjoong positioned you against Seonghwa's naked chest after he moved to your back, the sudden touch of skin sending a shiver down your spine.

"Honey, do you know what blood play is?" "Blood play?" "Yah, some kind of knife play. It's a little bit painful but you will love it." Seonghwa whispered softly against your temple, his warm breath caressing your skin. "Just like so." His fingers glided down to your forearm, delicately grazing it with his sharp nail, causing a small trickle of blood to emerge.

You couldn't help but let out a sharp intake of breath at the sensation, the mixture of pain and pleasure sending shivers down your spine. It was as if you thrived on the intensity of conflicting emotions washing over you in that moment.

"It's blood…" His left hand brushed your arm, wiping off the red blood on the surface, leaving shallow blood marks. Their eyes were flashing red light, tinged with hunger and thirst.

"Get ready?" Hongjoong asked as his hand sneaked to your panties. "Yes, please." Seonghwa lifted your ass up to literally rip off your panties, guiding his cock towards your soaked hole. "Take a seat, babe." With a firm grab on your shoulder and waist, you followed his lead to sink down on his arched cock.

"Oh fuck…" "It's big, isn't it?" You wrapped around Hongjoong's shoulder as a support and started to bounce slowly. Adjusting his size was harder than your imagination, you could feel every vein of his cock each time you sank down. "Our baby is doing well," Hongjoong's words made your head spin in pleasure, and you moved faster.

"Gosh, you're amazing." Seonghwa pushed forward to make his tip meet your soft flesh, making your body bounce up and down from his movement. "Hwa…" "Don't forget about me, babe." Hongjoong cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours. He appeared to lavish all of his affection into the kiss, caressing and nibbling on your lips. He drew you nearer, prolonging the intense and romantic kiss, drawing out the sweetness from your mouth, gently teasing your tongue.

Yet, everything changed when this lovemaking became intense.

Without a warning, Seonghwa sank his teeth into your neck, causing crimson liquid to trickle down, prompting you to bite down on your lip in a valiant effort to withstand the agony. Your fists clenched tightly, imprinting deep crescent shapes into your palms.

"Shit…hwa…" "Relax." Seonghwa attempted to divert your attention by fucking you harder. His movement was no mercy. He positioned you to lean forward to allow him to pump into you with a new angle. His hardened tip collided with your soft flesh crazily, producing a loud skin slapping sound and making you moan without care.

"Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!" The bright red blood flows down your shoulders to your chest, a sight both terrifying and mesmerizing. "Let me taste you." Hongjoong shifted his attention to your bosom, inhaling the intoxicating fragrance he craved. He immersed himself in your curves, indulging in nibbles and kisses that produced lewd saliva noises.

The symphony of moans and screams intertwined as the excruciating sensation of the bite became increasingly unbearable. A foreboding sense of dread envelops your heart, as if you were the coveted feast they had been anticipating for so long. The concept of blood play was merely a facade for their insatiable hunger.

You had to leave, but how?

"I…I'm gonna cum,hwa." "But I'm not yet, what should we do then?" You wanted to escape but they grabbed you tightly. How could you fight back these two men?

"Babe, there is something you have never tried. You'll like it." "No, please." "There is no way to go back."

Hongjoong delicately lifted your bra, his lips caressing your breasts as his tongue danced around your nipples, leaving a glistening trail of desire. With a hunger that knew no bounds, he claimed your lips in a passionate kiss, his touch igniting a fire within you. His hands explored the softness of your thighs, each caress sending shivers down your spine and quickening your pulse.

"Please, no more." You whispered between the kisses but were ignored as if they were totally lost in this love making.

"I heard…the sound of blood flowing…" He parted from your lips and trailed down, searching for something he desired for so long. Suddenly, with a fierce intensity, he tore open your chest, causing you to cry out in agony as your life force drained away.

"SHIT!!"

Hongjoong eagerly drank from your blood, and crimson liquid droplets trickled from the corner of his mouth, sliding down his throat as he continuously swallowed. Seonghwa let out a deep growl as he saw how Hongjoong sucked your delicious blood.

"Damn!" Seonghwa indulged in sinking his teeth into your neck, leaving behind a trail of deep, passionate bites and kisses, adorning your skin with an array of purple marks. "It hurts, please stop!" Your desperate pleas fell on deaf ears. No amount of tears will bring you salvation.

"So sweet! It's the taste of this blood! The blood I've been looking for!" Hongjoong found himself drawn closer to you, his gaze locked on the tantalizing blood pulsing in your veins. The crimson liquid flowed freely from the wound, leaving a mark on both your skin and his lips.

"Gotta mark you and you would be our own pet." "What…?" Hongjoong pushed you back, making you and Seonghwa lay back to the sofa. Guiding his cock to rub against your clit, he thrusted in your cunt without a second thought.

"Fuck!!" You arched your back as the new sensation became almost overwhelming. Their manhoods were divided by the thin wall of your lower body, allowing them to sense each other's movements with every powerful thrust. "This is truly remarkable," Hongjoong murmured as he skillfully moved his hips, ensuring that he reached the most sensitive parts of your body, bringing you to the peak of pleasure.

Hongjoong fucked you at an inhuman pace as if he never tired. On the other hand, Seonghwa maintained a rhythmic thrust, feeling how your tight ass sucked him in. The warmth of your walls drove Hongjoong crazy. He could feel the heat concentrated at the tip, hitting your sweet spot, and a numbing sensation made him moan softly.

You tried to push him away but you couldn't. The rapid depletion of blood was swifter than anticipated, leading to a gradual decrease in body temperature, a foggy state of consciousness, akin to a delicate mist, and a weightiness settling upon your eyelids. Your limbs grew increasingly weak, and you could only slump onto Seonghwa, like a puppet manipulated by them.

"Need to cum, now." Hongjoong huffed, panting heavily as his thrust became slippery. "Me too." Seonghwa chimed in. And you moaned weakly as you were almost unconscious.

What you could remember before the darkness enveloped you was the warm liquid soaked your cunt and hole, and there was something hot on your nape.

It hurts.

—----

You awaken from your slumber, feeling disoriented. "What is happening…?" Struggling to sit up, you realized your limbs are restrained by metal cuffs. "This can't be real…"

"Are you awake?" A chilling voice echoed nearby, making you tremble. "Don't be afraid, dear. Everything is fine." As footsteps drew nearer, a slender figure emerged. Seonghwa's eyes gleam red, fixated on you like a predator eyeing its prey.

"Release me." Fear grips you as you attempt to retreat, only to be met by the unyielding cold wall behind you. "No, my dear. You belong to us now." Another voice, belonging to Hongjoong, rang in your ears. "You are ours, and you shall not escape." Before you could protest, he knelt beside you and sunk his teeth into your neck, eliciting cries of agony.

"Easy, Hongjoong. Be careful not to kill her." Seonghwa took your hand and bit your waist with a great force. "Dear, you're so sweet. I really like you." As he licked your wounds, a mix of numbness and pain overwhelmed you, stealing away your consciousness. Helpless, you could only gaze blankly at the ceiling as they had their way with you.

"So good, such a lovely pet."

[sayre-m]

🍎 “ Evil Queen || Headers P&B 1

[mattsdolll]

𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥? - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . friends with benefits? not really. was it casual when matt kissed you with no strings attached? was it casual when you were tangled in each others bedsheets every night without apprehension? was it casual when you were in love? and nobody even knew. angst with a happy ending !!, i tried to write this with as dramatic as possible cus😁 pls pretend the header matches the fic

"dream of us in a year , maybe we'd have an apartment"

2.1k words

enjoy🤍

you dreaded the day this would happen, it was bound to. you fell hard and fast. pathetically, you were infatuated by him. you stirred out of your unconsciousness, staring at the cracked ceiling paint, you were supposed to fix that months ago, he was supposed to fix it with you. that emptiness in your heart was something only he ever fulfilled. warm summer nights faded into grey snowy evenings, alone in your bed. you hated it, but you could never hate him.

his lips pressed into yours gently, his touch tender. he worked his way down to your neck, evoking a gasp from you. he had such a way of putting you in a lovesick daze, it was sickening. you watched the boy prod and push his lips into your flesh admiringly, you marveled at his features. he pulled his head out of your neck, staring down at you lovingly. he smiled sheepishly, causing you to chuckle. he always had this stupid smile on his face when he was with you, like a little kid at a toy shop. it didn't last long, though.

you scrolled through your messages, tears running down your cheeks as you re-read old texts from him.

9:43am. "I love you soo much, I hope you have the best day ever, can't wait to take you to the beach later, the ocean brings out your eyes a lot"

you threw your phone down on your bed, a teary mess. your mascara flooded from your clamped eyelashes, spilling down your cheeks. you couldn't take this heartbreak, it was killing you. that day, he brought you to the beach knowing how much you adored it. you played in the waves like you would do as a child. he brought out the best in you. he watched the sunset with you, he kissed you. your gaze was fixed upon the sky as you watched the sun slowly begin to set, the sky lit orange and pink. when the sun went down, he was looking at you. he tilted your jaw to face him and mouthed a soft "i love you" before connecting your lips. you kissed him back with just as much pressure.

you ended up making out under the sunset for ages, his hands firmly on your waist as he brought you on his lap. he didn't want sex, he didn't want anything, he just wanted to be with you, to hold you close. he loved you so deeply he couldn't even view you under a lustful gaze. that night he took you home, he washed your hair for you, brushed it out and made you dinner. did i mention it was casual? you felt sick to your stomach at the thought of it.

the same boy who used to wipe your tears when you cried, the same boy who comforted you when things were rough at home, was the same boy who drifted furthest from you. it was momentary, it wasn't healthy at the time. you weren't ready for a relationship, you didn't know how to love. he sat you down one night on your bed, explaining how he felt. the words still lingered in your thoughts, bleeding into your once fond memories of him.

"listen, i don't know what we are, okay? i like you, a lot. i don't wanna lose you sweet girl but i can't be all you have, you need to rely on other things to make you feel better, 's not healthy..i know its hard, but we need to take a break, find yourself, go out and see the world f'me, yeah? i'm gonna find you again, we just need to take things slower."

you hated to admit he was right. you both rushed things and fell too hard. you were too attached. the tears stung your eyes as you barely responded,

"i know, i know, i can't keep running to you for every little problem i just- things are really hard, i'm gonna get better, okay? promise you'll wait for me?"

"promise."

he promised.

he gave you one last long, emotional hug before cutting contact for months. months.

it had been nearly three months since you'd seen your favorite boy, the grief eating you alive. you wished you'd held that kiss a few seconds longer, held him a little tighter, loved him better. you had to get better, for yourself and for him. you held your phone shaky in your hands, the screen slippery from your tears that leaked from your eyes as you typed. he hadn't blocked you, how could he ever leave you? you typed out a rough paragraph, you felt pathetic. you hit send, sitting anxiously in your bed. it had been too long, you craved his touch. you saw the message say delivered, now you had to wait.

you had felt unwell for weeks, your apartment a mess, dishes crowding the kitchen sink whenever you found the energy to cook for yourself instead of ordering yet again another takeout. you were miserable, to say the least.

your phone lit up, vibrating repeatedly, you scrambled to pick it up, checking your notifications. you almost couldn't believe he'd replied. not that he had a reason not to, it was just nostalgic. you read the notification, a simple message illuminating your screen.

"i can come over in a half hour, is that okay?" you replied with a 'yes' and put the phone down. you instantly began anxiously pacing around your apartment. did he wait? does he still love me? am i good enough for him? the thoughts raced through your head, the only thing snapping you out of them was your doorbell ringing.

you didn't even care how you looked, or if you were in pajamas with messy hair. you nearly stumbled into the door, shakily twisting the gold colored door knob. you were met by his blue iris, his gaze gentle. his hair was a little messy, he clearly rushed out the house. his hair was cut slightly shorter, it framed his face a lot. you exhaled deeply as his arms flew around your waist into a soft embrace. you hugged him back, around his neck. he gently picked you up off the ground, squeezing you against his body. "oh, pretty i missed you."

you felt at peace, he provided a sense of solace that soothed your mind. you hadn't felt this comforted in months, gently holding him closer. matt didn't try to kiss you, touch you, or anything. he just went straight for a hug, it was all he needed and he knew it was the same for you. some would consider it toxic, how you'd called him after nearly half a year of no contact, but today you could barely even hold yourself together, you needed him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay.

matt knew you struggled with severe anxiety, worse than his. your brain would spiral and it would become unbearable to the point you couldn't even speak. he would sit you down, hold you in his embrace and soothe your thoughts. you couldn't go a day without having yet another flare up or panic attack, it only worsened when he left. you choked up slightly at the feel of his touch, he gently walked you to your room, still hugging you.

"look at you" he mumbled to himself, he didn't find your disheveled state unattractive or ugly, instead he found this side of you perfect. it was natural, it was human. he felt some sort of awe knowing that you only went to him in times like these, that you had created such a safe space with him, no matter what terms you were on. maybe you weren't together or sneaking into each other windows anymore, you never really were together, anyways. but there was still so much love. he sighed to himself, laying you down in bed and getting in next to you, wrapping an arm gently around your shoulder. it killed you that it wasn't skin to skin, cuddling, his head in your neck, but then again you couldn't expect that of him, right?

wrong.

he tugged you on top of his chest, snuggling into your neck since he knew you hated people touching your hair. he made sure to drape the blanket over you just the way you liked it. you gazed up at him. "why are you doing this for me? i don't get it" he chuckled. how could you? "you think i don't know how you are by now? i know you, pretty." pretty. that nickname was your favorite, it was your favorite because only he got to call you that. he stared at you lovingly, not with lust or desire, with pure adoration and innocence. he was the embodiment of gentleness.

"i left you, matt. i threw away everything we had." you choked out, tears instantly forming in your eyes. he wiped them instantly, shushing you. "shh,and i don't care, okay? that doesn't change how i feel about you, i know it was for the best..i forgive you, i'm not mad at you, you're allowed to feel, okay?" you nearly shattered then and there. after all this time, he still loved you despite everything. "i left you too, remember? it's not your fault i love you." he whispered, comforting your cries.

he placed a soft gentle kiss to the crown of your head. were you ready for this? were you "better"? you weren't sure, but you wanted his presence, his sweet touch. you desperately craved him. your love for matt ran deeper than the cells beneath your skin, you could never hate him, more so you had a particular illusion of hatred toward yourself.

a now familiar warmth filled your chest as he clasped your frame in his arms, he stroked his hands up and down your back as you erupted into a fit of sobs. nothing about this was casual to you nor him, you practically dated, just without a label. you only began calming down after nearly half an hour.

"you're okay, i'm sorry." he whispered. how was he sorry? he had nothing to be sorry for, it was your fault, you hated yourself for this very reason. matt didn't see you that way. he never perceived you the way the rest of the world did. he saw something special in you that not even you could see. "i hate that i let this drag on so long, i wish i never walked away." you whispered, a soft almost plea for him to forgive you. he grasped your chin, bringing your lips to his. you eased into his mouth, melting together. the kiss was much softer than anything you had before with him. no, he was never rough with you, he wouldn't dream of it, but something about this was so consolatory.

"you know what? fuck this, yeah? let's start over, you and me, pretty. we can forget everything and start again" he mumbled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. you thought over what he said, honestly it wasn't a terrible idea. it was methodical, however you couldn't just forget everything, the smiles and laughs, the sobs and sorrows, every single second spent together with matt felt like an eternity. you put your thoughts aside, nodding your head. he didn't mean to forget, just to forgive and take a step forward.

"yeah? you wanna?" he beamed, giggling softly. oh how you missed that smile. you nodded once again, causing him to launch on top of you, smothering you in kisses.

"gosh pretty i missed you—missed this" he murmured against your flesh. you were one again, body and soul. you were filled by that familiar sense of relief, you missed him more. you laid tangled between the sheets for what felt like decades, just holding each other, talking. you loved him, things couldn't get more perfect.

or could they?

just a few months later, you found yourself in his bed. you had moved out of your shitty apartment, and into his small place near the beach. the air was crisp, salty. you crawled out of bed, making a cup of coffee, you could just be. you spent your days with matt, bathing in sunlight, your life was enliven.

you sat on the porch, watching the waves. matt scurried out of the house, eager to sit with you. he placed your drinks down—two glasses of wine. he snuggled up next to you, his head resting on your chest. you draped a shabby throw-over atop your bodies, leaning against him.

"so pretty, so so pretty" he mumbled softly, as you were staring out at the sunset before you, he was looking at you. you diverted your attention to him with a small smile, leaning down to press a small kiss to his wine stained lips.

just mere weeks ago you both would dream of times like these. you were finally happy.

. . .

tags !

@mattscoquette @blahbel668 @emely9274 @pearlzier @wompwomp-1 @bernardsgfs @sturnsxplr-25 @jetaimevous @aesthetixhoe @alyrasturnz @adorsturns @cvntytiger

[astarioffsimpmain]

Unsolicited Affections (Part 1)

[Screenshots and Tav, Ban, by the lovely @brabblesblog]

Halsin x Plus Size F!Reader

Warnings: Body insecurity; internalized fatphobia; otherwise, floof (for now)

Synopsis: Your growing feelings for Halsin can no longer be ignored. Even so, that doesn't mean you don't try for your poor heart's sake. However, Halsin keeps bringing you closer, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it without confessing... even though confessing is your worst fear.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to @brabblesblog for taking these screenshots and allowing me to use Ban in the header! For all readers, there will be a Part 2 to this fic and it will be the smut you all requested from the poll I took! This became a super duper indulgent fic for me, as I struggle with all of the insecurities the reader struggles with here. But I hope this little 2 part creation can act as a balm for anyone who has ever struggled with their bodily image, or wondered if they'd ever be seen as beautiful. This one's for you; for us. <3

Part 2 Here

The battle had been bloody. Grime and viscera was spread across each body, hair color lost in deep dyes of red in the wake of the victory. You and your companions trudged back to camp in silence; exhausted. You had failed to obtain what the battle had been fought for in the first place, and you were certain that your mood was soured for the rest of the evening. Upon reentering your campground, Gale was the first to greet you all, thankful to see that everyone was alive, albeit roughed up; obvious disappointment creased his features for a moment when you told him the news that you had failed to obtain the magical object you had set out for, but he hid it behind an understanding smile and ushered you to sit by the fire as he finished dinner. 

You had reasoned that if the Netherese Orb in Gale's chest required the consumption of magic to remain stable, that the more powerful the object, the longer it would sate him. So you had taken a group and set out for the most powerful magical object in your direct vicinity - the Circlet of Blasting. You had recognized it the day previous on the head of a Drow with several of its companions near the Myconid colony in the Underdark. Once you found them again, you approached to inquire whether you could cough up enough gold to take it off their hands, but when they turned and pierced you with vicious red eyes that gleamed back at your group with a reflectiveness like a cat's, you knew gold would not satisfy them. And as they drew their daggers, you were proven correct, and the battle had begun.

You slumped over on the log next to the fire, too exhausted to properly stow your weight, as you removed your armor piece by piece. The second person to approach you carried a warm bowl of stew and placed it gently into your palms. The hands were tender and gentle, and much too large to belong to anyone but your favorite Archdruid. You raised your weary head to meet his beautiful bright green eyes, creased with worry, but soft with care as he lowered himself to the ground beside your legs, his muscular arm grazing the now-bare skin of your thigh as he adjusted. A flutter ran through your stomach at the contact, but you clamped down on it before you could get carried away. You knew his kindness was platonic. It had to be. Halsin was simply…kind. 

The tell-tale signs of complicated and painful feelings had risen within your chest since rescuing Halsin from the goblins, and although you had tried to deny them, recently it had proven impossible. But while you finally admitted to yourself that you had fallen for his disarming smile, the scratch of his well-worn fingertips against your softer skin, and how passionately he cared about every living creature in nature, you refused to admit it to anyone else. You would be sparing yourself that embarrassment this time around. Your chest ached, remembering the many times you'd fallen for someone and approached them with this truth, only to be turned away over and over again. Inwardly, you snarled, blaming the extra plush your body carried for your lack of luck in love. Whether the objects of your affection had been kind, polite, or downright rude, there was always a moment in which their eyes would quickly rake your body up and down before delivering their blow. Perhaps they didn't even recognize that they did it, but you saw. You always saw. 

So, while you knew Halsin would never be unkind to you, you had been trying to make peace with the very probable fact that he would only ever see you as a friend - never quite attractive enough to be anything more. It was something you were used to, but it never seemed to dull the throbbing pain in your heart whenever you thought on it too long. There was a part of you, somewhere deep, that knew you were not at fault; that knew you were not to blame; that perhaps if they had deigned to look beyond the surface for even a moment, that they would have seen how genuine your heart was, and how they never would have had to go without affection, love, or loyalty should they have chosen you. You weren't without this enlightenment, but the constant dissatisfaction of, or concern for, the body you carried from those around you - from well-meaning friends to pushy strangers - weighed heavy on your tired mind. 

This moment around the fire was no exception, your burning desire to curl around Halsin's broad shoulders like a cat and purr was strong, but overshadowed by the fear of rejection. You had him near, but pulling him too close was to risk sending him far away, and you weren't sure you'd be able to stand it were that to occur. An icy shudder ran through you at the mere thought of Halsin retracting his warmth from your side. "- giving you a chill?" His dulcet voice pulled you back to reality like a line reeling you in, but you caught only his last few words. 

"What?" You said, blinking as his image in your eyes grew sharper again. "Apologies, my mind was far away." 

"No worries." He chuckled. "I merely asked if the night air was giving you a chill. You were shaking, my heart." 

My heart. 

You melted a little. The nickname was fairly new. The first time he had called you that had been two mornings prior, after a late start and a quick bath in the bioluminescent pools near your campsite in the Underdark. You had come trudging back to camp in clothes that were quickly dampening due to being pressed against your still wet skin, wringing your hair out ferociously as you tried to hurry to catch up with everyone else's progress. You had just started to wrench your boots up over your clinging pants when Halsin had approached you, laying a warm hand against your wet-stained shirt. You had startled, your head snapping up to his in a surprised daze. 

"Slow down." He had said, running a soothing hand down your bent spine and back up, sending full bodied shocks through you like tidal waves. "You needn't worry, my heart. We will wait for you." 

As the memory warmed your cheeks, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes, praying he couldn't see the thoughts lingering just inside the colors of your irises. "No, I'm alright. Just- just a bit weak from not eating all day. Thank you, for bringing me this." You finally acknowledged the bowl in your hands and raised it a little. 

"Of course. Please, eat. I hear from the others that you had a rough skirmish. I implore you to let me check you over once you've finished your stew." 

Ignoring the way your heart jumped dangerously near to your throat, you nodded silently, opting instead to pick up the wooden spoon in the bowl and begin to eat. It was one of Halsin's spoons; one he whittled. It was smooth and beautiful and easy to hold. Almost all of the cutlery in camp had been fashioned by Halsin, and several of the stools you kept as well. It was his hobby and his form of relief, to create things with his hands. Subconsciously, you glanced down to where the hands in question rested on his knees; large and rough, his hands had seen it all and done it all through his 300 plus years of life, and you couldn't help but quietly admire how much they had learned and lost in the process. And after all of that, he chose to create beauty with those hands that knew so much. It made your heart clench with a new wave of affection. You swallowed hard, as if the feelings would force their way back down in the same way as the contents of your bowl. 

Again, you were drawn back from your reverie by the Druid's movements, one of his hands moving from his lap to yours. His palm came down to rest flat on your thigh, only a thin layer of fabric left to separate the blazing heat from your skin. You barely suppressed a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact, feeling much more intimate than it probably was, and locked eyes with Halsin, whose brow was worried into wrinkles. "You seem more distant than usual, are you sure you're alright?" He said, his thumb taking a slow drag across your leg, sending your poor heart racing in your chest. 

"Yes," you managed to respond, rather breathlessly. "I- I'm alright." Even you weren't convinced by your attempt at deflection, and Halsin's frown only deepened. 

"When you've finished your stew, come find me by my tent. I will have some healing herbs waiting for you." He said sternly and you nodded silently. His eyes softened at your wide-eyed expression and he reached up to gingerly tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Promise me you will come." He murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving yours, and your heart stuttered wildly in your chest. 

"I promise." You replied, and a soft smile graced his lips. He nodded in return and stood up, brushing himself off before walking back towards his tent. 

"Gods," you muttered under your breath, pressing your palm to your chest in an effort to keep your pounding heart inside. 

"You've been given the perfect opportunity, darling." A voice chimed lyrically behind you, and you turned your head to find Astarion eyeing you appreciatively. "Don't waste it." He grinned widely, putting his fangs on display as he did so. 

"Shut up, Astarion." You mumbled, your face heating as you pressed your hands over your eyes. You only hoped you wouldn't make a fool of yourself. 

fin