#thank you for reblogging ❤️❤️

[the-kr8tor]

Hehehehe thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hiiii 🤭

Hopping here to request a Reader x Ekko where they're just two love birds and R sneaks into his "office" because she just missed him :( and then one thing leads to another and they're kinda carried away by each other.. that until duty calls up and R watches Ekko switching from loving future husband to the Leader of the Firelights

Love you!!!

Hihihi thank you sm bleaky for the idea!!! Another fic straight from our dms 🤭 I hope you like it, pookie ❤️

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, reader is a childhood friend turned lover, Firelight! Reader, lovestruck! Ekko, no s2 spoiler, cw suggestive, FLUFF!

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The hoverboard whirrs softly from under you, with the moonlight peeking through the leaves of the beloved tree, bathing you in its dappled silver glow. The breeze carries ashen smoke amidst the scent of sweet dew filled flowers.

You lean forward slightly, guiding the board gently towards the open window of the tree house where a certain someone is burning the midnight oil on his workbench. You perch yourself over the window, careful not to make any noise as you slither your way inside. Hopefully staying as a surprise for Ekko.

He felt you before he heard your grunt and the unmistakable sound of your head bumping on the windowsill. Smiling tiredly, he twists in his chair to look at you fondly while you cradle your poor head from the recent bump.

“You know I gave you a key for a reason.” You can practically hear his amusement from his tone.

“Where's the fun in that?” You chuckle, palm patting at the blooming headache. “I thought I'd surprise you.”

Ekko roams his eyes over you as your smirk grows wider with every second he ogles you. “I think you forgot the surprise.” He points at your empty hands, tilting his head to the side in case you've got something hidden behind you.

“Ekko, I'm the surprise.” You wink at him, arms raised to your sides in a ‘here I am’ gesture. He shakes his head with a smile, watching you as you saunter towards him. “You should be asleep.” Your hand finds its place on his cheek, he looks up at you, eyes soft under the warm light of the desk lamp. He leans against your touch, lamenting at the way you gently scratch at his nape. “You can do this once you get some rest. Your board will still be here tomorrow.”

He swears he can fall asleep with your tender touch and voice lulling him to slumber. “I can't,” he sighs, reluctantly pulling away from you to return his attention towards his board that glows softly with green light. “we have something planned early tomorrow.”

Your heart softens for him and his determination. “Am I part of that something something?” Sitting down on his desk, far enough to give him space to work but close enough for you to poke his leg with your foot.

“Not this time,” he glances at you, finding you huffing in place as he screws in the blades tightly. “You still got that shoulder thing.”

“This shoulder thing is alright now.” He raises a brow at you, head shaking lightly. You sigh, surrendering. “Fine, it's acting up again, but it's technically better.” Ekko hums in reply, elbow deep inside the hoverboard. “Kind of. Can I at least help? I don't like feeling useless.”

His hand cups your knee, thumbs tracing swirls on your skin. You can feel how warm his hand is from under his glove. “Just sit there and look pretty for me, okay?” Smirking, he pats you once before returning his hand back to his work as you pout and huff at him. “And you're never useless. You're still healing, trouble. I don't want you getting hurt out there because of a busted shoulder.” A flash of you falling off your board with a sickening crunch fills his vision with dread. He turns towards you fully, tapping his wrench on the wooden table, and gentle eyes softening up at your features. “You'll have your time, I promise.”

You nod, watching as the green hue flickers over his concerned face. “Okay, but you owe me.” You cross your leg over the other while he smiles and turns towards his machine again.

“How many IOUs is that now?” He asks, glancing between you and the board.

You nudge him with your foot, “too many, Ekko.” You say his name with a sing-song lilt, effectively taking his attention. “What?” With a teasing smile, he stares at you wordlessly.

“You're distracting me.” His eyes follows the curve of your jaw up to your lips. Heart stuck in his throat, and eyes glued onto the soft skin. He lays his tools down. Abandoning it immediately.

“Oh,” your shoulders slump slightly. “I'll leave, just get some sleep, okay?” Hopping down, Ekko stops you with his hand on your thigh. “You need something?” You place your hand above his own as he squeezes you.

“Yeah, sit back down for me?” He says it seriously, as if he needs to talk to you about something important.

You straighten up, following his instructions. The desk creaks under your form, and as you wait for his very important words, he stands up from his seat, kicking it away before cradling your face gently in his gloved hands. The rough fabric sits on your cheek, but his touch is softer as he gazes at you with those eyes you've always loved ever since you two were still running around playing pretend.

“Now you're the one distracting me.” You whisper, index looping around his overalls to pull him towards you. Placing him in between your legs, as he leans forward with his head tilted slightly to find the perfect angle of your lips. “What were you saying, Ekko?” Teasing, he inhales deeply, lips merely an inch from your own.

“Let me…?” He says before you crash your lips against his own, answering his cut off question. Your eyes close as he smiles, mirroring your expression. You both kiss in sync, hearts beating in the same pace.

You hear him chuckle softly as your lips fall into a medley of rhythm with his desperate kisses. The kiss runs deep and long, teeth clashing, noses meeting, and hands caressing every angle of you as your own hands roam up his bare and lean arms, until you find penchant on the back of his head. Fingers weaved around his hair, not pulling away, no, pushing him further against you as the air grows hotter around you with every breath you take.

You're home in his arms. And all you can think about is him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs against your slightly agaped lips, leaning away for a moment to take in air and to remove his gloves to feel you fully.

You stare at him through half lidded eyes, cheeks searing hot and stomach throbbing with ache. “Yeah...” Your voice is shaky at best, legs wrapping around him whilst your chest heaves.

Just as you say it, he meets with your lips once again, taking your breath away as you give it willingly. This time it's softer and gentler as he kisses you tenderly. Your head hits the wall with how much he's kissing you, so with his palm sliding behind your head, he cushions you from the blow as he continues to kiss you fervently as if he hasn't gotten a taste of you in years.

“Ekko.” You sigh out as he kisses the curve of your lips, tracing its shape with his own. “Ekko.” Your tone grows breathlessly as he slowly makes his way towards your throat. “Ekko—” His lips were just about meeting with your warm skin when a knock interrupts you both. “Shit.”

“Damn it.” He murmurs, chest heaving, pupils blown out as he gives you one quick kiss against the side of your neck. Definitely not the final one.

You pat his cheek with a lopsided smile, thumb brushing along his kiss bitten lips, wiping away the sheen you've left. Ekko pecks your thumb before moving away from you. He fixes your rumpled shirt, just as you notice that you've smudged the white hourglass paint on his face. Whoops.

“Ekko, you've got…” you gesture towards his nose, trying to tamp down your laughter.

His blown out eyes widens, lungs still trying to intake oxygen from the strenuous activity. His nose scrunches up when he sees you having the same smudged paint on your face. Smile tamped down by biting his lip.

He looks behind you, where a small mirror is hanging just beside your head. He sees himself looking disheveled, hair sticking all over the place, face paint smudged into an odd shape.

Chuckling, the knocking grows louder. “I've got you, don't worry. I won't let your reputation get tarnished.” You take a handkerchief from your pocket, effectively wiping away the smudged mess on his face as much as you can.

“Did you get it?” He's still breathless when he asked.

“And…there. I've got them all.” You get a thankful peck on your cheek for a job well done.

But before he could move away from you, he takes the handkerchief in his hand to wipe at your (his) own smudged face paint. He tucks the fabric away in his pocket, maybe you'll come looking for it one day, effectively giving you an excuse to come visit him sooner rather than later.

Ekko now moves away, clearing his throat but the evidence of your shared previous activity is still evident on how much he inhales and how his hands are so clammy that he can water the tree with the sweat on his palms.

“C–come in.” He curses under his breath at how his voice cracked at the start. The door squeaks open, revealing his right hand man, Scar, waiting at the doorway.

His golden eyes glance at you, Ekko hides your equally disheveled form with his body, blocking your obviously kissed lips and your rumpled clothes. Scar raises a knowing brow, eyes speaking a thousand words.

“Hi, Y/N.” He says gruffly, lips subtly curled into a smirk. You wave shyly above Ekko, afraid that you'd let out incoherent words while you're still reeling from his warmth. “I can come back later.”

Ekko’s seriously considering it. “Is it important?”

“Everything's important with you Ekko.” Scar's eyes turn towards you with the word ‘important.’

Ekko sighs, slightly disappointed. “Right, what happened?”

His whole demeanor changes into what most people would think when they hear about the notorious leader of the firelights. His posture straightens up, and the air around him oozes authority. The man in front of you isn't just Ekko, your love and confidant, he's Ekko, the feared leader of the firelights, and the boy saviour. But you can still see his previous sweetness from how his eyes still smile when he remembers your soft lips upon his own. He's still your Ekko through and through.

“It's the chem barons, they blew out an entire building.” Scar briefs him, and you read the room as their conversation grows more serious.

If you listen to any more, you'd want to join in so you decide to leave before you could give your two cents like always. Ekko was right, your shoulder wouldn't help much with a full blown fight. So you're just gonna stay away, for now at least, until you're fully healed to be of help. For his sanity and your wellbeing.

You take a deep breath, still heaving from his kisses, hopping down from the table even with your wobbly legs. Ekko looks at you in the middle of the conversation, hand reaching out in case you fall down. Scar watches with amusement at the scene in front of him.

“I'm good,” you say quietly only for Ekko to hear. “We'll continue this later, okay?” You say louder this time for both of them to hear. With a wink, and a hand grazing his back, you leave him standing there, aghast at what you've blatantly said.

His own mind betrays him at how *later could go. Ekko has to hold onto the chair next to him to stabilize himself lest he melts in front of Scar, who's absolutely trying to reel his laughter in that he's about to pop a vein on his forehead from how hard he's trying.

As you close the door behind you, you hear his booming laughter and Ekko's unmistakable groaning behind the door.

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[skialdi]

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[lottee-e]

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[pursuitseternal]

“Maybe we should fight more often…” update to “Bites in the Night:” Astarion x F!Reader, nsfw fight/reunion fic

Astarion x F!Reader |E| 4.7K of fight/reunion sex

Summary: He’s so insufferable when he’s hurt, intense when he’s angry, if only you could find the words to soothe that rage and tell him how you truly feel… And once you do, the reconciliation is just as intense and twice as worth it

CW: Repressed emotions, angst, hunger striking vampire rogue, anti-Gale jealousy, True Feelings Confession Again ™️, sweet snuggles and cuddles, semi-public make up sex, appalled campmates when it’s not so semi-public anymore

Read here if you prefer AO3

“Maybe we should fight more often, my sweet…”

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“Well,” he sniffs, scanning his sharp, narrowed eyes down you, “look who dragged themselves back to camp at last. Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence again… darling.” He snips, acerbic in tone, his lips pressed firmly, arms crossed in that way that shows his annoyance with you. Astarion shifts slowly on his feet, all ice and disdain as you fumble to remove your armor.

“We’re in one piece if that’s what you’re upset about…” you reply, unable to fight the rising preassure of your own blood, matching his irritation.

“Barely, by the looks of it.” His gaze shifts to Shadowheart, busy healing Gale, his mortal skin spotted with bruises and riddled with slashes and wounds. “But perhaps I should thank you, after all, I’d rather Gale take the beating than ruin these magnificent looks, wouldn’t you agree, darling?” He sounds… caustic. Mean.

You meet his eyes, even as he stares at the wizard across the center of camp. His crimson gaze narrows, his lips draw in a sneer. It’s enough, your bile rises as you return his harsh tone. “Oh, so the rest of us tend to our wounds as you lick your wounded pride, is that it, Astarion?” you hiss. “You’re hurt I didn’t bring you with this time?”

“Wouldn’t dream of being hurt, dear. You’re the fearless leader, after all. I wouldn’t deign to force my many skills on you.” He flashes that wicked, twisted smile at you. “No matter how many of them you have seemed to enjoy to your… benefit before.”

You stiffen. Irate. Irritated so much you could… slap him. Your blood is running high at any rate after batte.

“Tch,” his eyes glance at your balled up fist at your side. “Don’t you fret any, darling, don’t expend yourself any more than you have done… without me. I can take care of… beating myself tonight… besides, your hands look filthy after all that,” he grimaces in feigned disgust, “work. And I, I have my pride, by beauty all in tact.” His hand rests on his chest, his whole body crowding you as he curls inward. So dramatic, so obnoxious.

Your whole frame shakes with your pounding pulse. “I hope so,” you huff. “Since you seem so full of yourself, I doubt you will need to so much as feed a drop from me tonight either.” You can’t help it, taking a single finger and prodding it into the middle of his hardened stomach. “No room in there for anyone else, it seems.”

“Perhaps.” He gives a dramatic wave of his hand, long fingers unfurling so gracefully. “Enjoy waking without feeling lightheaded and aroused, then,” he sneers.

You match his stiff posture, craning your neck to meet his furious stare. “See you in the morning, dear,” you snipe back. Watching as he turns on his heel and stalks into the woods. That rage swells inside you. Hands shake as you struggle to peel the remaining clasps and buckles open. You finally lift the plates from your body, throwing them loudly at your feet with a crash and a guttural scream that tears your throat.

As if the whole camp hadn’t heard your spat.

You bury your face in your hands, anger swirled with sadness tugging at your heart and souring your gut. He would not understand. Not when everything was just so… petty about him. Vain, arrogant bastard. Only thoughts of himself in that beautiful head of his. It makes you sick. Heart sick.

He wouldn’t understand.

Not when you were weak. Your thoughts only about… him. About how you couldn’t face losing him, watching his undead body actually look… dead. Watching his broken frame revived by magic at the last possible moment. Gods, you managed to survive it once. You weren’t sure your heart and soul could make it a second time. So you had to choose, injure his petty vanity, or risk losing him forever.

Now, you had to suffer the ire and loneliness that came with it. But at least he was alive. Your one consolation as you felt some distant stare from the forest line as you crumpled to the dirt by the fire. As if bright, crimson eyes watched as you fell apart.

You could almost feel it in the air between you. A wavering of uncertainty, maybe a single footfall back in your direction at the sight of you defeated.

But then, a hand rests on your shoulder, warm. Mortal. And your heart sinks as you look up to find it is not a smirking, pale elf offering you comfort. No.

It’s Gale. That tepid smile and those kindly eyes. He doesn’t need to say anything. Not that you would hear it. Not with how your ears are trained on the growl from the trees and rustle of something big in the underbrush.

You brush the hand from your shoulder, spending the rest of your night cleaning the blood from your skin. Alone. Sleeping. Alone. And you do wake in complete health, that fuzzy, tingling feeling absent. That slick you wake with down your thighs too, gone.

You sit in your bedroll turning your head to his tent.

But his tent is already packed, neat tidy rolls he might have spent hours making. You wonder how you didn’t hear it, you wonder more if he slept at all with how long he usually takes making sure his effects are perfect for your journeys.

That’s when you see him, carting a chest of his things to the side. His eyes lock into yours for a moment. Intense. Cold. Assessing. Concerned.

Then he breaks away. Whispering something under his breath as he strides away.

You’re still too tired, too… ashamed of how you feel for him. Too frightened to tell him the sharp thorn of truth that threatens to rip from your heart. So you begin the same process. Packing up.

Beginning your journey. Searching down your next potential cure. Day turns to night again with little event. Camp remade. And still he hasn’t said a word.

Only those penetrating looks you barely catch him making at you when your back is turned.

You’ve kept your distance all day from everyone. But you can’t help but feel the heated bristle that comes when your wizard does… anything. Hands you a bowl of fresh-made stew. Asks you directions about which trail to take. But the one that breaks your vampire rogue is when Gale tries to roll out your bedding by the fire for you.

You can almost hear his undead pulse spike, his nostrils flaring with enraged breathing. You turn just in time to see him rip the soft roll from Gale’s hands. Nothing more than a cold snarl on his face as he takes it, sweeping it on the ground with a flourish. Making sure he lines you up within view of his tent, you notice.

He crouches by your bedroll, patting it down, his lithe hands fluffing your pillow for you. That’s when you finally swallow your… pride… your fear of facing him. You tug your shift lower, already stripped down for your long sleep. Wishing the fabric was thicker as you approached him, to where he coiled at your bedside like the hunter he is. Your sweet, ruthless hunter, setting your bed arights. You kneel across from him and catch his cold hands in yours. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Those two words seem to startle him from that red cloud of rage he’s shrouded himself in all day. “For being a decent person, worthy of helping?” he hisses. “So good you can see it when it comes to the little, insignificant things between us. Shame you don’t let that extend beyond.”

“What are you going on about?” you shake your head, feeling his hands clench under yours before he yanks them away.

“Ugh,” he scoffs, letting that wounded tone sharpen his words again. “Like you don’t know, don’t realize how you’ve… undermined me. Leaving me here to wallow and drink while you go headlong into danger…”

He swallows. Loudly. His Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Words he’s keeping at bay by clenching his fangs hard on his own lip.

“You… you’re hurt I didn’t take you yester…”

He gets up. Eyes narrowed to pinpricks as he frowns at you. “I thought we knew each other better than this,” he… he groans. “I thought you, of all people, knew me better.”

Astarion begins to leave you, you shudder. The reality of so much being said unspoken beginning to dawn on you. You watch as he grabs a book and flops himself down before his tent. That’s when you notice your cleric daring to approach him. Her voice is soft, his is biting and sharp. You watch her stop at a great distance, a question on her voice. You hear his exacting answer of, “No, fuck off. Not even Shar’s favorite princess can help me with this.”

More quiet mumbling. A wary look thrown over her shoulder at you with those concerned, tragic eyes. You watch as she hands him a bottle from her side. But he takes it, sniffs it, and tosses it to the ground at his side. It shatters, glass breaking muffled by its contents.

Even from where you crouch, you smell it. The stale metallic tang of old blood.

“Leave me alone, princess,” he snarls, “with all due respect.”

You watch her leave, Astarion buried back in the pages of his book. But Shadowheart’s look makes your heart leap right into your throat. She doesn’t need to whisper to your ear or your mind. He’s hungry. Refusing to feed. He’s angry, hurt. Irritable. Irascible. Intolerable.

And it’s… your fault. Your fear clutching that truth of how you feel too tightly in your chest. You look down at your hands, how they shake on the ground. Whether from guilt at causing his suffering or the fear of what you have to confess in order to ease it all, you don’t know.

“You know you have to tell him,” that soft, deep voice comments from over your shoulder. “Tell him how afraid you are,” Gale whispers.

You stand slowly, careful not to draw too much attention. Just. Careful. “How..?” you hiss under your breath, sure Astarion hears every beat of your heart let alone the words you try to muffle through your lips.

“I don’t need any spell to know how relieved you were that he was safe here. After all, it was just last week that we almost lost…”

You press a finger to your lips, you can’t even bear to hear that mentioned now.

“Sorry,” Gale mutters. “But you need to give him the truth. With all the lies he’s endured, all that has been kept from him for centuries, you owe him that.”

Breathing, sighing, you feel the weight of your confession growing. “Fine,” you groan, but it’s dramatic, affected. Really, your throat grows tight, your stomach twisting into knots as you turn towards the crimson and rose flaps of his domain.

You stop shy of the entryway, waiting. You know he sees you from his perfect periphery. You can hear his breathing steady, the slow tracing of his finger on the page as he prepares to turn it. But he… ignores you. You clear your throat, earning you a scathing glance from over the tome in his hands. Those eyes hold yours for a second before flashing back down to the page that hides half his face.

“Astarion,” you breathe, “please…”

“Please, what?” he spits through clenched teeth.

You pause, letting your body move instead of your words. You settle on the ground beside him, careful only to get close, not to touch. “I need to tell you something…”

He shuts his book, slamming it to the side as he turns his face fully towards you. You read it all in those etched lines and narrowed eyes. His hurt, his anger, his… worry. “If it’s anything to do with my newly appointed role as camp décor, then…”

“I… I couldn’t risk you…” you interrupt him. “I left you behind because I just can’t risk losing you. Not after what I already have had to do to keep you… to heal you from the other… fights when….” You swallow the rest of the story. Of when he almost died.

That fire of irritation chills, the hard wall of vain hurt crumbles. But the pain remains. “So you took... Gale?” he scoffs. “Gale will protect you? Gale will keep you safe?” He snorts unbecomingly through that handsome nose. “I doubt it. Not like… I would.”

You pause. His resentment, his pain… it was the same as the barbs that needle you with worry. You look into his eyes, that veil of anger melts as he sees how yours pool with tears. It’s so much, this ache you carry. “I’m so, so sorry,” your voice wavers with the unshed tears in your eyes, your throat. “I care too much about you to lose you…”

Those last words get swallowed in a sob. You bite your lip as it trembles.

“Really?” he breathes. Heavy and laden with much more than just a question should hold.

“I don’t know how I could face… anything, everything, without having you with me. That’s why I asked for you to stay behind. To keep you, for myself… That’s how… I feel…”

His eyes flicker over your face, centuries of looking into the faces of liars, a skilled student of deception, he can see it. Your brutal honesty. His eyes soften, his hands, reaching across the span between you to scoop up yours.

“I… feel it too, you know,” he whispers, all those silken tones stick in his throat, leaving his voice rasping and quiet. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do, fighting at your side, to keep you safe, to keep you with me always.” Pain flashes over those sharp features. They harden in that second. “And when you left me… behind… it was punishment. Agony. The massive uncertainty of not knowing if you would walk back in here covered gloriously in the blood of our enemies, or bound up in linens for burial.” His eyes fall to his lap, to where your hands are joined.

Your fingers squeeze his. “I was only… afraid of the same for you.” A sticky, tear streaked laugh comes from your throat. “Besides, we could have used you…”

He lets out a single low giggle, a smirk dancing at his lip as he turns to stare into your face. “Tell me, how badly did Gale fuck up? I want to know… every detail.”

“Horribly, more than words can say,” you giggle quietly.

He… just smiles. That hardened, long-suffering sharpness to his face instantly lifted.

And you… you feel it too. That pulsing comfort between you. His thumb softly stroking over the back of your hand, the inside of your wrist. Little tender brushes that aren’t meant to arouse, but to simply… appreciate.

Just as you feel for him. That little bud inside your heart, threatening to bloom into something more. More feeling, more possession. More… you stop yourself from being swept away by the depth of affection he pours on you, what with those wide eyes and tender smile.

You just wish you could be so much closer to him, to bind up all that pain and suck it from his soul like venom, to bring him into your very being. To meld your souls and share your fates. But, for now, bringing your bodies closer was all you could do, and you slowly shift yourself into his lap. The hem of your shift rucks up, but all you can do is chase that need to press his hard body and hardened soul against your thumping heart.

Instantly, you feel that wiry strength ease in every muscle, his arms wrapping around you softly. He guides your legs around his back, clutching you hard and flush against him. You can feel it, the cool hardness of his pelvis seeping into you, chilling you where you are on fire for him. His hands cradle your hips… you cherish him so close to you, the way his belly presses gingerly against yours with every breath. With a sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder, the top of your head tucked perfectly beneath that sharp cut of his jaw.

“Astarion,” you breathe inhaling his soft citrus scent, so many raw feelings splitting you open. He just shushes you gently, reaching for a soft blanket, wrapping its warmth around your middle. Its supple fabric is so warm, so plush, like everything Astarion keeps for himself, knicking the best, most luxurious things he could carry. The heat from your body seems to bleed into his usually cold and lean frame. For that moment, he just… holds you. As if there was no greater treasure to purloin in the realms than you.

His fingers wrap delicately beneath your chin, guiding you to look back him once more. Wide crimson eyes gaze on you, their soft intensity scanning your face, as if he is committing every detail to his long, ancient, undead memory.

He hasn’t murmured another word, and by the way his throat bobs with rapid swallows, you don’t know if he could if he tried.

The language of your bodies might just have to suffice.

You wrap your legs around him tighter, savoring the way his breath passes down your neck, fluttering over the dip in your neckline. “What is it you wish to feel?” he finally breaks the gentle silence between you.

Your brow furrows slightly, mind racing through so many thoughts… so many feelings and desires. None of them suffice. All of them frighten you.

Finally you force yourself to inhale, that scent of his skin going right to your head. “You,” you finally let a single word form your tightened chest. “All of you.”

You feel his hips shift, pressing his body, the planes of his stomach… and lower… firmly into your own belly.

“Not just your body, Astarion. I wish to feel all of what makes you…”

His eyes narrow slightly. A wince of pain gathering at the wrinkling corners of his eyes. “Some of what has made me who I am will feel… awful, unspeakable…” His voice is harsh as his body stiffens against you, arms gripping tighter in his embrace.

But you hold just as firmly into him, clung around his neck. “I don’t care. It is nothing compared to the pain that would be to lose you…”

Head cocking to the side, he breaks his stare from you. You hear his throat wet, hard swallows as his arms hug you tightly. Ever since your first embrace, he’s never shied from holding you, but this… this feels different. Desperate. Intimate. As if he clings to your soul by clutching the body that houses it.

“Then you won’t lose me, ever,” you barely hear the words. You aren’t even sure if they were meant to be heard. So quiet. Barely more than air from his lips.

Something loud clatters behind you, the smells of roasting meat and stewing vegetables wafting from the distant fire. You startle, trying to crane around to see, but his fingers return to hold your face fast and facing him. Something smolders behind those scarlet eyes now… that glimmer of hunger, a pang in your own stomach at the smell of food, you see its reflection in his gaunt face. But it isn’t food of which he is starved.

It’s you.

You witness that shift inside him, that awakening of the predator as he licks his lips. He pulls that blanket around you tighter. The thick material covers your back as his touch steals behind its curtain.

His hands are searching your body, caressing… exploring. Cold fingers slip into your lap, and you swallow the gasps as his touch brushes over your thighs. Skating higher, racing up your leg.

To find you bared already.

A sultry smirk teases one corner, a single brow arching as he looks into your face. Amused. “You come to fight with your lover so defenseless for… battle? I’m glad I did not underestimate you, darling…”

“I…” you swallow, feeling your cheeks flaming as you realize his fingers only delve deeper into your folds, even as the others in camp mingle around by the distant fire. “I’ve taken to sleeping like this… just in case,” you feel your own prideful, lustful grin turning your lips as he hums his approval.

“In case of what, darling?” He keeps that arrogant smile far enough away to watch your every little expression. “I want to hear you say it,” that honeyed tone sinks into his chest, barely more than a growl for your ears alone.

“In case, you… In case I… ahh,” you have to clamp a hand on your mouth to keep from moaning out loud as his finger hooks right on your clit.

“In case I… ahhhh-maze you with my seduction? In case I ahhh-rouse you with a midnight feeding?” He presses his lips on that column of your neck. Nothing more than a peck, but you can hear your pulse in your ears. “Mmm, speaking of feeding…”

“You could have swallowed that stock Shadowheart gave you,” you tilt your head where the shards of broken green bottle laid beyond the edges of his tent.

“But why should I, when all I want to feed on is right here…” his tongue laps at your neck, his finger shoves deep into your cunt. “To be clear, I mean both these parts of you, darling, in case you missed my meaning… any everything in between…”

You hiss, muffling your sounds of pleasure through bitten lips. “You know I didn’t come crawling over here just to ask you for sex…”

“I know,” he arches a brow in wry amusement at how you grit your teeth to keep from moaning, his fingers playing deeper inside you now. “You were too spitting angry to do that. Call it… a gift, a little something to sweeten our reconciliation.”

“I’d warn you… the others…. Ahh,” you pant mid-sentence as he hooks once more right across your clit.

“Tch, you know I don’t care. They can all watch if they wish. I’m sure it would be most instructive,” his brows furrow for a moment. “Except for Gale, I doubt any lesson would sink into his thick skull.” But his arm pulls that blanket around you tighter again. “But don’t fret your sweet sensibilities,” he gives you that rakish smirk and a gentlemanly nod, “I’ve quite literally got you covered, darling.”

His other hand shifts between your bodies, but you barely notice as you’re too busy feeling that heat and dampness building. His thighs raise your body slightly, and that’s when you feel it… when you realize what he had been busy doing.

As he shifts to have you sink onto his cock.

Your mouth hangs open. You aren’t sure if it’s in shock at his audacity or at just how good it feels to be so… connected after hours rife with separation. Hands grab beneath the blanket, pulling you flush, joining you so fully. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to push him down to the ground and ride him. But you give a shaky exhale.

Astarion smiles widely, his tongue rubbing over his fangs. “Come closer, my sweet,” he purrs, hands shifting your legs beneath you, raising you to your knees.

You groan, feeling the pressing, pulsing friction of his cock inside you dragging as you shift. You tilt your head, presenting your neck, a visible feast for his mouth, as you grind on his lap, almost imperceptibly, filling you to brimming. As you sink once more, his hips giving a slight thrust, his teeth slicing those razor edges into your flesh.

A grunt escapes your lips, loud. You slap a hand over your mouth to hide it as his mouth sucks and swallows, laps and drinks. Your ears train in the distance, but nothing sounds off… perhaps they’re used to you being fed on, by now, it was common enough.

Not as common as having his cock buried deep into your cunt, the rest of them unsuspecting, bustling around the camp. Barely giving you any notice.

He’s giving those little noises as he feeds, so hungry, you feel his lips sucking hard, taking what is his. The tickling of his tongue over your skin, the pursing of his lips hard enough to bruise.

He’s humming his approval, timing it to cover every little sway you make on his lap. Biting your lips, you grind oh, so slowly. Just enough to stir the friction of his cock deep inside you, the curve of his length pulsing and pressing against that tingling spot he sets on fire every time he fucks you.

And each imperceptible grind on his lap catches right on it. He’s shushing you now, bloodied lips grinning like the sated predator he is. So fucking proud of himself. Arrogant at how he’s slipped right in, conceited that no one else knows your dirty little secret.

“You’ll smooth over this little tiff by coming for me, won’t you, darling?” he rasps into your ear. Making you buck, hard and high, wanting nothing more than to feel him pummeling hard and fast into you.

“Yes,” you moan, so softly, “if you do too…”

“I’d never dream of it otherwise, my sweet…”

That’s when something cold steals over your thigh, shoving its way to catch on your clit. Your eyes flash wide, your mouth hangs slack in a silent scream as he circles his finger right over your clit.

“Hells,” you groan, “you want us to get caught?”

“Of course,” he purrs, “if they’ve watched our spat, the least they could do is appreciate our…” gods, he’s circled more of his digits into your honey-dripping cunt, “… reunion.”

“Hgnf,” you grunt loudly… and all your vampire does is laugh and feed at your neck once more. Letting you jounce on his cock at that subtle speed that he’s making increasingly harder to keep.

“Oi… are you both feeding or…” your tiefling’s merry voice is tickled with suspicion.

“Ugh,” Shadowheart’s jewel-toned voice chimes in, “they’re fucking again. Disgusting. Couldn’t even get her inside your tent this time, vampire?”

Your vampire only laughs and licks at your skin, hands now clutched at your hips. He raises you to slam on him now. “Might as well, darling. They sound so happy for us, so delighted we’ve reconciled,” he comments loudly enough for all to hear.

“Well,” it’s Gale’s voice that you catch next, not that you notice much else now but the all-consuming bloom of pleasure that’s taking hold. Now that you buck your hips against his lap with reckless abandon. “It’s better than fighting, at any rate.” He gives a weighed sigh as his voice grows more distant. “Leastways, they aren’t screaming and shouting at each other.”

“Oh,” Astarion gives a mirthful, taunting giggle. “Screaming and shouting can be arranged…”

He leans back against the pillows, grabbing your hands to splay them on your chest. You need nothing more. No quips or instructions or flirtation. You just let you body chase your climax, releasing all those swallowed moans and cries you buried in your chest until you didn’t know if your throat was sore from chastising your rogue, confessing your need for him, or from screaming as that hot bliss of orgasm wraps around you at last.

He’s clenching under you, tearing his nails into your hips, bucking and thrusting and pulsing inside you as he spews his seed deep. Until it drips down to smear on his thighs too.

“Maybe, just maybe…” he pants, rakish, contented smirk on his face as you gaze down at him with lidded eyes and slack smile, “maybe we need to fight more often, my sweet.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

To explore more, here is my Master List✨🩸

[the-kr8tor]

HAHHAHAHHA hurt/ comfort does have some comfort in it!

Thank you my love! ❤️❤️❤️ Yours is amazing too!

The Beauty Standard

Hobie Brown x fem! spider! reader

So...good luck? 😳 Octobie week one!!

Banner by @mushroom-graphics-allotment

Event by @the-kr8tor

Word count: 796

Hobie isn’t a stranger to receiving bad looks. He calls attention to himself obviously. His suits change every week, he has a thick accent, and his hair defies the laws of gravity and physics. That didn’t change once he joined the spider society and contrary to popular belief, it did sting.

Hobie will admit he had this small inkling of hope that because he was (begrudgingly) connected to the other spiders, they would understand what it means to be an outsider. Miguel was his wake up call.

When he told Gwen his regular spiel about anarchy and being a runway model Hobie didn’t expect her to take it quite so literally. It sort of… gave him a confidence boost. To think that she believed he could be attractive enough to be in a magazine. Not that it mattered, the fashion industry was toxic and not environmentally friendly.

He always kept an eye out for the quote on quote outcasts. The outliers in and out of his universe. Hobie never wanted anyone to feel the sting of rejection the way he did. That's how you caught his attention.

Ever heard the term opposites attract? That could be applied to your relationship too.

Gwen said your universe was reminiscent of the 2000s. Something about boy bands and flip phones. Coincidentally you were also in a band. With your version of Gwen and MJ.

You were very colorful which is to say you did indeed, match his freak. Dyed hair, baggy jeans, belts- you get the picture.

The three of you became fast friends which led to sleepovers at his boathouse on more than one occasion. Today however, it was just the two of you. Sprawled out on his couch with his head on your lap which challenges the notion of the two of you just being friends.

Hobie’s eyes are closed in a blissful state as he feels your thumbs rub against his temples. His own hand caressing your thigh. The soft crackle of the record player accompanying the slight rocking of the boat.

Soon enough you were humming then singing quietly under your breath. If Hobie could melt any further he would be reduced to a puddle of pins and leather.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

Hobie mouths the next line and you smile. Tilting your head as you continue to admire him. The line of his jaw. The curve of his nose.

When you kiss me heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see “La vie en rose”

You don't even notice you’re leaning in but Hobie’s gaze is magnetizing. His emotions affect his color palette but now in his calm there are subtle shifts of pink and brown in his eyes. If you paid closer attention you would have noticed the newspaper cutouts of hearts.

You vaguely recall this position is similar to the one in the event Peters’ go through with their MJs’. Hobie’s hand moves up to caress your cheek and not so subtly drag you closer.

Before your lips can press to his you run your finger over the corner of his lips. Needing to say something before you word vomited everything in your heart.

“You’re beautiful.”

You're beautiful

You

Are

Beautiful

You grow concerned as Hobie’s eyes grow glossy and his skin changes to dark tones of blue and gray.

Your mouth is already poised with an apology when he sits up. You’re not sure what you’ve done wrong as you reach for him but hesitate, your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach.

“Hobie I-”

Then he turns and smashes his lips to yours in a way that leaves you weak in the knees but maybe that’s due to how long you've sat cross legged with the weight of his body.

He holds you tight as if the idea of space between you is unfathomable. It would feel nicer if it weren’t for the fact you were still so worried.

You wait until he breaks the kiss to speak up but Hobie beats you to it. His forehead pressed to yours.

Hobie’s never felt so tongue tied as he tries to explain through the lump in his throat that he’s floored. How could he not be? The instant he saw the pure and unfiltered adoration in your expression it all felt surreal. The way you touched him like you were afraid to break him. Like he was perfect.

Hobie isn’t a stranger to bad looks but the one you just gave him will never be erased from his mind. He isn’t too dark or too tall. His features don’t make him less of a human being. He’s just Hobie Brown. A boy who has fallen madly in love with an equally beautiful girl.

Fuck the beauty standard.

~

Little context:

A theory was made that when Hobie revealed his face to Miles, he was expecting some kind of poor reaction. When Miles asks “how are you even cooler under your mask?” his expression changes. Compared to Miles he’s a lot more “loud” and lives in the 1970-80s where historically civil rights movements were high in Britain and were a direct result of the punk movement. So with Hobie’s distinct features the theory states he expected Miles to think he was unattractive.

Racism is cruel. Please remember that sometimes a kind word can mean all the difference and no matter what the world has told you it perceives you as, it’s wrong. You are all beautiful.

[talshiargirlfriend]

Me to everyone who comments on and reblogs (and otherwise supports) my fic 🥰

[regal-bones]

Hey do you like video games? Do you like supporting trans creators? Do you like exclusive content, and plenty of early access?? If so please check out my Patreon!

I just uploaded a whole bunch of artwork for Last Sprout 🌱 that I have been very excited about sharing! If you want to help bring his game to life, please check it out!

Click here to sign up! It’s just £1 and directly helps me out! (also, picture is very much related)

[caiusthecat]

Chrobin die cut sticker set preview and interest check! I’m so freaking excited finishing this personal project with 2023 being so full of absolute Chrobin brain rot🥺❤️ Reblogs are EXTREMELY appreciated!! Interest check under cut!

[the-kr8tor]

😭😭 somewhere in the universe, fae hobie is happy with his R 😭🥲

Rosehips in a ⭐ bottle perhaps dearest potion maker?

Fae Hobie thinks he lost you in his own woods, but you just got hurt a bit by adventuring next to the sharp river rocks.

-🪦

(btw I know I did a few, I think? I can't remember but in no way shape or form do I want to stress you out with my requests xoxo, have fun writing)

Whoops I forgot this was supposed to be a hurt/comfort fic 😬 sorry, it's more fluff than hurt, I hope you still like it! ❤️

Pairing: Fae! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw injury, fae AU, established relationship.

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Hobie was awoken by your lack of presence next to him. He springs awake on the bed of flowers, flowers that you love the most. Flowers that you've told him that remind you of him and his pretty golden eyes that shine in the night like fireflies fluttering around the tall grass.

He pats your side of the bed, feeling the cold emptiness on his palm. The vines weaved around his arms perks up, wrapping even more, rising up to his bicep as his worry grows. You're allowed to leave his abode, you are human after all. And everyone desires to leave, even him, if not for him bound to his abode, he'd leave with you in a heartbeat. Live in a cottage at the edge of town, quiet enough but not too far from civilization. Cook with you in a fire he tended to. Lay down on a bed of soft fabrics, laugh with you until sleep takes you. He's satisfied to just have the latter. He only hopes that you do too, if you so desire to leave for good, he'd let you, he'd kiss you goodbye and wish you well. His heart would ache, yes, but he'll be glad to know that you're happier in your own world.

Even so, you wouldn't leave without a word to him. You'd leave a note with your flowery words scribbled on it. His face contorts into a deep frown as he concentrates on where to find you within his realm. His hands and vines ebb and weave through the soil, sprawling and crawling in the grass, trying to find your bright soul amongst the greenery and his haze of worry.

When he spots your illuminating form, he sprints and doesn't waste time in running through every tree and obstacle in his way. Green whizzes past him in increased inhuman velocity, eyes honing in on you.

He skids to a stop a few steps ahead of you, eyes widening at the state he found you in right next to the river bank on the edge of his abode. Your ankle is twisted in an angle, the wicker basket fallen right next to your prone form.

You feel the air rushing in front of you, and the smell of fresh dandelions filter through the air. To no one's surprise, you look up to see Hobie in all his glory, expression etched in worry.

“Hi.” You wave weakly through the pain. Hands wet from the lapping water right next to you.

“‘Hi?’ that all you have to say for yourself, love?” He tilts his head, walking closer to you as he scans you for any hidden injuries. Thankfully, he finds none.

“I thought it would be nice to have a lie down for a bit, y’know?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood as you see the sky darkening and the breeze stop blowing. You know him well to know that he's incredibly worried. He settles next to your injured ankle, kneeling down to inspect the damage, all without leaving his concerned eyes on you. “I’m fine, really. Just a flesh wound, is all.”

“Really?” He tilts his head, sky turning back into a light blue hue, breeze kissing your cheeks as he softly smiles at you. “It won't hurt if I poke you?”

You purse your lips together, “...no.”

“Alright then.” His finger inches closer to the raised and inflamed joint, teasing you as waits for your reaction. “‘ere I go—”

“No!” You stop him with a hand around his index. Now face to face with an all powerful fae, you see him grin at you smugly. You don't fear him, not at all. Especially when you know that he's more human than anyone outside his abode. “I was gathering herbs for my headaches.” Pouting, lashes fluttering, you put on your best puppy dog eyes to tamp down the teasing you're sure you're about to get after he tends to you.

His brows pinch together, thumb reaching for your forehead to press gently, trying to soothe your headache. “It's still botherin’ you?”

“Yeah, it's because I do all the thinking around here.”

His billowing laugh makes you laugh as hard. You find that its infectious, and you're absolutely infected with it. “Still cheeky, hm?” Flicking your forehead, he stares at you with gentle endearment as you glare at him while holding your ‘wounded’ forehead. “I can always conjure herbs for you, love. You know that.”

“I know, I'm sorry.” You sigh, placing your head atop his shoulder while he conjures vines to grow under your foot. “I just wanted to explore, and surprise you with a few clovers for the dinner table. It always looks pretty in the vases.”

Hobie reaches for your cheeks, cradling your face in his gentle and warm hold. “‘m not stoppin’ you from explorin’. Just be careful next time, yeah?” He wiggles your head in his hold, squeezing your cheeks in his calloused fingers while smile softly at him. “You could've fallen and broken somethin' more important if you weren't careful.” As the vines grow and weave around your ankle, acting like a temporary splint, you giggle at the tickling sensation. He watches your reaction, eyes crinkling at the corners while his golden eyes grow brighter.

“Like my head because I do all the thinking?”

“Or I just don't want blood on my grass.” He jokes, hand sliding under your legs and back to carry you carefully.

“Hey!” You smack his chest playfully as he lifts you up. “For that comment, I can get back home by myself, thank you very much!”

“If I let you, you'll be home by tomorrow.” He nudges your crinkled nose until your laughter echoes around the glade. “‘sides, I've got a great view from ‘ere.”

Grabbing his chin, you move his head gingerly towards your own. “Eyes up here, Hobie.” Your breath fans over his waiting lips. He could only hum in reply, he did not want to waste time to etch your lips upon his own until you're breathless in his arms.

Before you know it, you're back home with him. Piles upon piles of clover flowers and herbs greet you, but you barely notice them when you've got the most handsome flower right in front of you.

[sainz100]

two more small Friday moments ❤️ | 📸 via Guillermina Cardoso

[a-cakehound-or-critter-a-day]

Onyx Cream Cookie has wolfies as seasonal residents in Witch's Castle 🥺. Crème Wolves (yeah, they're basically the French cousins of the Cream Wolves xD), they're so silly 🥺. Don't know if you downloaded Witch's Castle but you should check those lil guys out 🥺

dawww qwq- And Ill be sure to try nd check them out! Its a bit hard to find them just looking them up- but Ill play nd try my best to see 'em in game >:3

[burgeredagent]

drew ur boxcarsssss =:333

FUUHHHUHUHUHUHUUUUUH... YOU GET IT OH MY GOD YOU GET IT !!!

[titsthedamnseason]

okay my darlings, you know what time it is…..SURPRISE SONG GAME TIME!!! except this time it’s extra super duper special because this post is actually queued because today is MY SHOW 🤭🫶 aka it’s atlanta n3 therefore i am BEGGING you to manifest the absolute best of your best picks and leave them in the tags or replies for me to see later and then give you an internet smooch if you win 💗 HAPPY GUESSING

i’m going to guess my absolute dream combo of hey stephen and dorothea

[pardonmydelays]

for some reason i don't get notifs anymore when somebody starts following me and i just-

[glasspunkart]

Part 3!! Thank you for all the love on parts 1&2!!

[darkangel0410]

Hey, guys, I hate to do this but I'm in a bind, and I need help moving - my fucking asshole of a landlord told me this past week that he's not renewing my lease in September and he refuses to let me wait until Jan or Feb when I'll have income tax money - so I need to raise $5,000 by then because he's already told me he'll start the eviction process at that point, and I don't want that on my record

I made a gofundme or if you don't want to deal with them, my cashapp is $darkangel0410, and if you guys could reblog this i'd really appreciate it ❤️❤️❤️