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dragonmurray · 21 days

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Loki's Silent Sentry (Part 3 of 4)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 (in progress)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (ofc)

Summary: You are not just a soldier in Asgard's Royal Army, you are Lieutenant Y/L/N, Prince Loki's personal guard, his sentry and you are not supposed to fall in love with him. If you followed your training properly, you should never have even spoken to him. As a sentry, you are expected to remain silent and invisible as you shadow your appointed member of the royal family or member of the court protectively throughout their daily tasks.

Rumors (that happen to be true) begin to circulate through the palace that you serve the younger prince of Asgard both outside and inside his chambers. There is little you can do once word of your off duty activities spread through every maid, cook, gardener and seamstress in the palace. You soon find even the soldiers in your own company are now questioning how exactly you had come to earn your seemingly quick rise to lieutenant.

As the annual Winter Solstice Ball approaches, you come to the heartbreaking realization that your relationship with Loki must come to an end if you are both to fulfill your duties.

Warnings: Angst, arguing, Thor trying to be a better brother, Odin being a terrible father

A/N: I know this was only supposed to be three parts but you guys know not to believe me when I say stuff like that lol... enjoy 💚

You close your eyes as he pulls you tighter to him, you are sure he can feel your heart pounding in your chest. "Are you really here?" you ask in a whisper. You fear he will vanish like one of his illusions the second you let go of him.

"I'm here my love," he reassures you. He kisses the top of your head and you look up at him. "Follow me," he says in a low voice.

You smile and nod without caring where you are going, you will always follow him anywhere.

He takes your hand and leads you into the room he came out of. You can see he has been busy with his magic, his abilities have always thrilled and impressed you. The magically altered office is twice as large inside as it should be and is an exact replica of his chambers. You look around in awe and can't help but wonder if this isn't an illusion but one of his transportation spells.

He smiles with pride at your reaction and puts his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him again.

"How did you do all of this?" you ask. "Its amazing... you're amazing," you tell him as you turn in his arms to face him.

"I'm afraid the young corporal spent has a large portion of her time this week dutifully guarding my empty office," he jokes and you laugh with him.

"Gods, is that why you requested a new sentry?" you ask.

He smiles mischievously, "Sergeant Tones paid far too much attention to my comings and goings." He strokes your cheek slowly and says, "Now, enough about them," he leans down to kiss your lips and you kiss him back, gripping the fabric of his shirt. Without breaking the kiss, he waves his hand slightly and your armor suddenly vanishes. You smile against his lips, feeling the added weight disappear and his hands rest on the back of your shirt.

You look up at him and say, "I've missed you so much. Did your mother tell you?"

He nods and takes your hand, leading you to the sofa where you sit close together, his arm around your waist and your hand on his knee. "She told me," he answers. "There are only two people in this world I have ever been able to confide in, you and my mother." He pauses for a moment then says, "After you left the throne room, my mother and I went to her private library. I needed her to know how much I care for you, how much you mean to me. I was still afraid my father would find a reason to send you away somewhere but she promised me she would protect you."

"She's been very kind to me," you tell him, smiling to reassure him that you are okay. "You're very lucky to have a mother like her."

He nods in agreement but you can see something is weighing him down. "Loki, what's wrong?" you ask in a worried tone.

"I hate this," he says after a moment. "I hate not being able to see you and when I do, I'm barely allowed to look at you. I hate being able to give you orders but not speak to you. I hate having to pretend that you mean nothing to me. I don't know how much longer I can stand to be without you."

You kiss him and you feel him relax slowly in your arms. "Our passing moments together will never be enough for me but I promise you, I savor every second I see you or hear your voice," you tell him.

He smiles at your response then you can see his attention shift and he says, "I need to tell you something."

"You can tell me anything," you remind him.

"Your paperwork for the transfer wasn't denied... I never submitted it to your captain," he admits, "And I was never going to."

You look at him in shock and he continues.

"I'm so sorry I lied to you. I know it was wrong and I swear on all the Gods that I've never lied to you before but... I just couldn't let you leave me," he says, you can hear the worry in his voice.

You can't help but let out a laugh and he shifts uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," you smile but he still looks concerned. "A part of me was desperately hoping you would somehow delay the transfer. I never wanted to leave you," you admit. "I was a fool for thinking if we were apart, I would be able to move on."

He smiles and kisses you again, his hands traveling up and down the back of your thin shirt. "Stay here with me tonight," he says between kisses. He doesn't say it as a prince ordering his sentry but you obey his request without a second thought.

You stand quietly in front of the queen's office, eagerly awaiting the end of her current meeting. She had informed you this morning that her last meeting was going to be with her youngest son. You couldn't wait to see him, even though you knew it would be brief and he would be unable to speak to you. Any second you saw him outside of the time the two of you stole was appreciated greatly.

It is almost three months since your new Sunday night routine with Loki began. He would slip through the palace with ease after he dismissed his sentry for the night and you would take a left at the top of the stairs after his mother released you.

While hidden away, surrounded by his illusion, the two of you could pretend everything was perfect. You love him with all of your heart and he loves you back just as fiercely. He would kiss you and hold you and tell you that you were his but the moment the sun came up, everything would change. You always did your best to hold back your emotions as you put your armor on and returned to your silent duties.

It devastated you every time you needed to leave him but you kept your pain to yourself. You were afraid to ruin the small window of time you had with wishes and false hope that things could somehow be different.

You follow the queen as she moves gracefully through the long marble halls of the palace, her dress flowing around her. You groan internally when a third council member stops to greet her, delaying your arrival at the prince's office yet again. She nods politely at his failed attempt at what you assume was a joke and kindly excuses herself.

After what seems like hours, you finally you turn the corner and his office is in sight, your heart races knowing you will see him even if it is just for a moment.

You can see his young sentry leaning against the wall behind her and remember how heavy your armor was when you first started. She hears you approaching and stands at attention. You signal for her to knock and announce the queen's presence which she does quickly, it is easy to see how nervous she is. You can't fault her for being anxious around the royal family, especially when you are terrified of the king and less than fond of the older prince.

The door opens and you hold back the smile that tries to slip free when he steps out into the hall. "Hello mother," he smiles at her and she embraces him.

"Good luck with your meeting," she says after taking a step back.

You look between the queen and Loki in shock when you realize she is talking to you. "I'm sorry your highness?" you say quietly.

"Prince Loki has something to discuss with you, Lieutenant Y/L/N. Corporal Glasgow will be temporarily assigned to me for the remainder of the day," she says.

You and the corporal exchange a quick look with a mix of surprise and confusion. It was not protocol to simply switch sentries, especially in the middle of a shift but neither of you were in a position to question the queen. The new guard bows to Queen Frigga and Prince Loki, then without another word they leave the way you came.

You find yourself standing in front of Loki, completely alone and unsure why. It was only Tuesday, had something happened that couldn't wait until Sunday? Your mind suddenly races with all the horrid things that keep you awake at night. Had someone discovered the two of you have been sneaking off together? Were you being sent to a post far from the palace? Had he finally gotten engaged to a woman his father and the kingdom would approve of? Both Loki and the queen were far too calm for any of these to be true but you couldn't push the thoughts away.

He motions for you to follow him and you close the door upon entering his office. Your fears subside momentarily when Loki pulls you into his arms. You close your eyes tightly as he whispers, "I have news."

"Good news or bad?" you ask hesitantly, pulling away slightly but his arms hold you to him.

He smiles in response, "Very good news my love." He takes your hand and the thoughts that had been swirling around your mind fade in an instant. "Come, let me show you," he says, you can hear the joy and excitement in his voice as he leads you through his office.

He pulls out the leather chair behind his large desk, "Sit." You pause before doing as he asks, sometimes it was hard to break protocol even when you were with Loki. You had never sat on this side of his desk before and hadn't realized that until this moment.

"Relax," he says with a light laugh. "I promise you, no one will barge in and find you sitting here."

"Sorry," you let out a nervous laugh. "I guess I'm still a bit worried that your father will banish me to Migard or somewhere."

He kneels next to you and takes your hand. "I would never let him send you away, you know that right?" he asks.

You nod, "I know." You clear your throat, pushing away that fear and ask, "What did you want to show me?"

He smiles so wide you can't help but smile in response. He gets up quickly and grabs the large book on his desk, picking it up he places it right in front of you. "What is this?" you ask, opening the cover. "Asgardian Marriage Law..." you read the cover slowly. "Loki, what-" you start to ask.

"I found it," he is too excited to let you finish your question.

You look at him for a moment, unsure what he is talking about when suddenly it clicks. "You found... you found a loop hole?" you ask, your heart beating faster.

He nods quickly and he repeats, "I found it."

You pace anxiously outside of the throne room, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for the grand council to convene. "Please stop, Y/N," Loki says as he leans on the wall across from the tall doors. "You are making me dizzy."

"Sorry," you walk over to him. "I'm just nervous. What if he says no? What if he gets angry again?" It was only a day ago when Loki spoke to you in his office but in that short time, your mind had invented hundreds of scenarios that filled you with dread.

Loki seems quite the opposite, he has never been more sure of anything as he holds his research calmly. He extends his free hand and you take it, "Y/N, if I know my father as well as I think I do, he will say no and he will be angry."

"That is not making me feel better," you frown but he chuckles.

"Do not give up on me now," he says. "I told you I will find a way to make you mine and I intend to keep that promise."

You smile at his words and move closer but before you can kiss him the large doors to the throne room are swung open. You pull away from Loki and swallow hard as your nerves ramp up again. He keeps hold of your hand and leads you into the throne room.

The room comes alive around you as the council members that line the room begin to whisper frantically to each other but you pay no attention to them. Your eyes are fixed on Odin, sitting atop the tall throne at the rear of the room. Frigga stands to his right and Thor, in his full dress uniform to his left. Loki squeezes your hand tighter and you are unsure if he is trying to calm you or himself.

The two of you come to a stop at the base of the stairs leading to the throne and Odin holds up a hand to silence the council. Loki bows briefly out of respect for his parents and you kneel as you've been trained.

After a moment or an eternity, you can't tell, Odin says, "Rise".

You stand but keep your head down slightly, knowing Loki is the one who needs to address the council. You are simply here because he wanted you to be, but this isn't where you belong and you know that.

"Why did you call for the grand council to meet?" Odin asks and you look at Loki who gives you a small smile before facing his parents.

"I've called you all here to discuss the marriage requirements for the second child of the king," Loki says.

"The laws are the same for all children of the crown," an older man to your left calls out. The crowd mumbles amongst themselves in agreement but Odin holds his hand up again.

Loki continues, "I am not speaking about the laws that my older brother is meant to follow. Prince Thor is heir to the throne, the next king of Asgard but I am not on the same path."

A few more hushed whispers are heard but it doesn't stop Loki. "There is no argument that the heir must marry someone who is of a certain status and has the approval of the grand council as well as the king and queen," he says and Thor nods, knowing that is his fate. "What I am bringing to the court's attention is that the rules for the second child, the spare, are not the same," he pauses for a second, "And they never were."

The council members all begin talking at once, denying Loki's claim that he is not to be held to the same rules as Thor. The throne room fills with voices and Loki looks around as if he is becoming lost. You squeeze his hand to get his attention and when he looks at you, you reach up and kiss his cheek. You know you shouldn't but he needs to know you support and believe in him.

As soon as your lips touch his cheek, he smiles but Odin stands up, causing the whole room to go silent in an instant. The queen gently places her hand on his arm and he slowly sits without saying a word but it is obvious your display of affection for Loki is not appreciated. After a moment, he waves for Loki to continue.

"And what are the requirements for the son who is not the heir?" Thor asks, you are surprised that he genuinely sounds curious.

Loki takes a deep breath and begins where he left off, "I am not suggesting that the second son or daughter of the royal family is free to many anyone. I am merely stating that the rules are not the same for the heir as they are for additional children."

Before Loki can answer, a woman you always found especially condescending says, "Does it matter? This soldier will never meet them."

Laughter spreads through the council and you look down at your boots as you feel your face flush. Loki squeezes your hand again and you look up, raising your head high.

"I would like to know, that is why it matters," Thor says simply and the laughter stops. He offers his younger brother an encouraging smile, "Continue, please."

Loki answers Thor's question, "The council is of course aware of the numerous rules that surround choosing a spouse for the heir, but the rules for the second son or daughter in the royal family are the same as those written for the children of council members."

Several low whispers begin to fill the room but Loki keeps talking over them. "It is true," he looks at you briefly before turning back to his parents. "Lieutenant Y/L/N does not currently have the rank to become my wife but in a few short years, she will."

"This can not be true," a voice off to your right says.

"It is, I am allowed to marry a soldier from an established military family who is ranked captain or higher. Y/N's family has served Asgard for generations, several members of her immediate family are high ranking officers in our army or royal guard and she is only one rank shy of becoming a captain herself," he explains.

"I wish to see this rule," Odin says. Loki nods and holds out the leather bound book he is holding. A young council clerk walks between members of the crowd to Loki. Loki opens the book, pointing to the page he marked and hands it to the clerk who delivers it to the king. Odin sits quietly, reading the passage again and again.

The whispers become louder until the council members are shouting amongst themselves. A few voices in favor of acknowledging the forgotten rule rise above the others and you dare for a moment to feel excited.

Odin raises his hand for silence once again and your heart sinks. He looks at his youngest son then at you and you can see in his eyes he is not convinced even though it seems some of the council is shifting their opinion.

Loki looks down at you and smiles but you can tell he is as nervous as you feel. "It's going to be ok," you whisper.

"I love you," he whispers back.

Before you can tell Loki you love him as well, you hear Odin stand from the throne. He holds the book open, looking down at the page at if it offends him. "This was clearly a mistake," the king insists, still looking down. "One which I intend to correct immediately," he says, looking up at you and Loki.

He rips the page from the book and crumples it in his hand, you can barely believe your eyes. "Thank you for bringing this unfortunate error to the council's attention. From this day forth, all children of the crown, regardless of birth order, must follow the same strict rules for courting and marriage. Spouses will be chosen from the family's of the high court as they always have been," Odin proclaims. "Soldiers will continue to be ineligible for marriage to a person of royal blood, no matter their rank or lineage," he adds, making sure you will never be able to marry Loki even if you become a general in the future.

"No! He can't do this," you think angrily. Your mind is spinning and your heart races. How could he take this away from his own son.

"You dare to tell me what I can and can not do!?" the king asks in a booming voice and you suddenly freeze.

You look at Loki, his eyes filled with fear and realize you didn't think that, you said it out loud. Odin slowly takes a step forward and you fight the urge to turn and run.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

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dragonmurray · 1 month

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— desert fever

› cowboy astarion x f!reader

› wc: 8k+

› a/n: I FINISHED IT!! (dies) :3 also I made it more weird and unsettling than like sexy cowboy aesthetic sorry I can't help but make him a creature in a fucked up western ghost town (if there's mistakes pretend you do not see) ilysm @dhampling for being the only reason this got done <3

warnings : death themes, loneliness, physical injuries, blood drinking multiple times, sorta yandere?, cockwarming, orgasm denial, lil clit play

Midwinter - 200 Years Prior

Wind rips through the canyon a thousand feet overhead, nothing moving in the godsforsaken town and the mule packer knows something is wrong.

Two miles south stands the mine, the proverbial godsend, that sound which should be filling the canyon with the sound of machinery smashing ore is starkly missing.

He dismounts the tar black steed, the horses nose pinked by the icy chill and it’s nostrils flaring, its mane filthy with a dirty crust of ice. The single rig saddle is ice crusted as well, the leather components frozen stiff as board. He rubs the horses neck, speaking in soft, low tones about how he did good work today and a nice, warm stable awaits with plenty of feed.

The man wades through thigh deep snow towards the mercantile, baging his fist against the doorframe. Inside, the lamps are extinguished and the big iron stove squats dormant and forlorn in the corner, unattended by the usual smattering of miners jawing over burnt coffee and tobacco.

“Hello, anybody in the back?”

As he steps back out he notices theres not even the sound of animals braying or snorting in the cold.

“What in hells?” he whispers.

When he delivered supplies a few months ago the humble mining town had been teeming with its usual bustle, now Dreads Hand looms lifeless before him in the late evening gloom, its streets empty with unshoveled snow in high banks against the planked sidewalks. No tracks as far as the eye can see, save for his own coming in.

The cabins along the lower slopes bordering the tiny town are buried up to their chimneys, not a single one of them smoking.

He makes his way up the street to the saloon, expecting perhaps for a handful of locals to be sheltering from the storm inside, greeting him with some glorious profanity about being unprepared for the weather.

Not one’s inside.

Not a single customer, no one at the piano, and again every kerosene lamp is extinguished.

Only a forlorn half pint of beer sits on the pinewood bar, frozen through.

The path to the closest cabin is unplowed and takes roughly ten minutes to wade towards without webs on his shoes.

He pounds his fist against the door once more, counts to one hundred in his head. The latch hasn’t been hooked, but even so he feels like a trespasser as he swings the solid wood door open to step inside.

Food languishes untouched on a table, coffee long since gone frozen just like the beer in the bar. He removes his gloves to touch the roast in the middle of the table, cold and hard as the ore in the mines. Wine had at some point frozen and shattered the cups that held it.

Outside again, back with his steed for some small comfort he shouts, turning around and around in the hopes his voice will carry further.

“Is anyone here?”

It’s twenty seven miles back to the closest outpost, but the horse needs rest. Having ridden the last sixteen hours he needs it too, though the idea of spending the night in Dreads Hand has suddenly become much more sinister. The horrible silence is unnerving.

He decides to chance it, something tells him its safer on the trail back, even in the threatening dark and icy terrain with exhaustion creeping into his vision.

Something just ain’t right here.

—

30th of Eleasis - Present

From early childhood it was all you could remember, just you and your father acting in your childlike mind as fanciful explorers, wanderers. Always somewhere new to plant your feet, always some other sunrise to chase.

Once you had grown curious enough to ask, after many, many years of this endless chasing and his words echo inside your skull to this day.

“It’s just in our blood.”

What, exactly, was in the blood had yet to reveal itself. As you grew older and more alert to the realities of your life you believed he had been speaking about your occupation as monster hunters. Perhaps being the blade that sings in the night before ichor spills across the ground was what thrummed in your veins.

Although you believe differently now.

It was bad luck. Nothing but.

—

Dreads Hand was aptly named.

A husk frozen in time, the curiosity of every would be adventurer although it’s long been picked clean of anything of value. The wind whipped through the crags above your head, the trail leading towards the often whispered about ghost town like it was a reward after navigating treacherous and tight terrain.

Someones idea of a joke.

Even in it’s heyday the town had hardly been prosperous, only one twenty-stamp mill that had filled the canyon with the sound of rock crushers was the only thing of note in the otherwise one horse stop off. That sound used to be the sound of money being made, and only two things ever stopped it: holidays and tragedy.

That sound hadn’t echoed through this place in two hundred years, and it was assumed when a mule packer had found the entire town deserted one fateful day in Midwinter that tragedy had befallen them, though of what nature that tragedy was had yet to be accurately discovered.

Still, ever since then this place had long been whispered about. Perhaps those whispers gave it some sort of new life, perhaps not. It may very well be that some manner of beast had made its way into the derelict town, drawn in by the solitude of it, growing fat off the easy meals from snatching unsuspecting people from the town farther in the opposite direction on the trail but you were prepared to dispatch whatever run of the mill creature people in the neighboring town had complained was screaming its head off in the night.

Something nagged at the back of your mind as the hollowed out bones of the town came into view from the trail. There had never been a single body discovered in Dreads Hand or the surrounding area, which had been combed thoroughly on the off chance there had been some survivors that could explain what exactly had befallen them. Not even a hint of blood in the dirt.

It was as if one day everyone had gotten up from their tables and simply marched out into the setting sun, the wind erasing any evidence of footsteps in the sandy red soil and snow.

Another unique feature of the town was the perpetual night that fell once a year on the eve of the last day of Eleasis and lasted until the end of Nightal, it bewildered anyone well versed in magic and didn’t fit with the knowledge of environmental curses that even the best scholars had poured over. It was believed this had something to do with the long missing townspeople, but again at the time it was discovered there was no sign that anything was amiss. No blood, no bodies, no damage of any kind.

Just the wind whistling through homes and the small smattering of stores, and an inky darkness blanketing it all, like a babe tucked into bed.

As your feet kick up red dust you grimace, wishing for the first time that you hadn’t agreed to this.

The thought strikes you abrubtly, making you freeze.

You’d done all manner of hunts alone since your father had passed, why was this any different?

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end, sweat sliding down the column of your spine in a suddenly icy trail as the feeling of eyes boring into your back mounted the closer you came to Dread.

—

31st of Eleasis

Being alone is worse than the loneliness you felt growing up. Alwasy bouncing from place to place, only ever the two of you. At least it was the two of you.

But it’s different now. Now, you have to figure everything out on your own and it’s exhausting coupled with the constant injury and death. Sometimes you’re afraid if you start thinking too hard about this way of life you may just collapse on the spot, slumped in the dirt to cry and cry and cry. Weep until you dissolve and mix with the earth.

It all has to be for something. It’s in the blood.

You can only tell yourself that so many times before you start tasting bile on you tongue.

—

Luckily setting up in town wasn’t difficult, what with your pick of any number of decrepit, modest prairie homes to choose from. You had expected the feeling from the previous day to cling to you like a second skin, unease brewing hot in the pit of your stomach. Whether fortunate or not it hadn’t, but you also felt an odd sense of regret to not feel even a hint of disquiet inside a home that was possibly haunted by the dead and lost.

All you felt while settling in to prepare for the hunt was a strange melancholy. Never had you stayed in an actual home, not once in your life. The longest you had ever been in one place was during a particularly difficult hunt for a hag close to Neverwinter. That had been three months of careful stalking and planning, but even then you hadn’t stayed anywhere but in the forests closeby your target.

Doomed to a life of transience, of always existing in a state of maybe. Maybe you live, maybe you die. Maybe you’re successful, maybe you are not.

Sleep had been emphirical and unsatisfying, but you did your best to chalk your restlessness up to the nerves that always accompany a hunt.

This one was unique in that you truly had no idea what you were tracking, if anything.

It’s just as likely people simply heard the wind tearing at the sheer rock faces around them and assigned a boogeyman to the sound.

You shake your head as you finish readying your supplies for the day. Nothing too intensive at the start, a brief exploration of the abandoned buildings to see if theres any obvious clues: tracks, nesting behaviors, perhaps even the remnants of meals. What those meals may be you didn’t care to know in detail.

The old, once solid wood creaked underfoot as you strapped shortswords to your back, feeling relieved at the familiar weight of them. It was reassuring, going through the motions of an age old routine. It was easy to put aside the little pangs of grief as you stepped out past the rotting wood of the threshold.

Back in Edgewater, some twenty seven miles to the south, you had met with a scholar by the name of Hallowleaf who was inarguably the most knowledgeable about the accursed settlement. The last ten years she’d devoted her life to researching the place, everything from its founding to its eerie end.

She'd had some… interesting information for you before you had set off and as you walk down the now mostly rotted through plank sidewalk you're reminded of the conversation.

“It is curious, apparently the church at the far side of the town had fallen into disrepair sometime before the mass disappearance.” She said, pointing on a well worn map.

You scrutinized the marker denoting the old church before speaking.

“Was it abandoned by that point?”

“That's contested, officially yes after the local priest of Lethander passed it went into decline. But, there were some odd writings recovered during the search.”

Hastily, as if too excited to show you the copies, her hands fumbled in the bag set against the legs of the chair she sat in.

“There were some fragments referencing one of the horse hands and the church but since it's all piecemeal it's hard to make sense of. It could be that this person rode off to try and secure a new priest, but that feels unlikely given no one has ever come forward as being from Dreads Hand.”

“Maybe they died trying to?” You mused, still staring at the map and trying to commit the landmarks to memory.

Main Street ran for two hundred yards down the middle of the canyon, and you walked between the false faced buildings. Many had long since collapsed, but you stopped at a structure with five little balconies.

This must've been the brothel, and as your eyes lingered on the crumbled, jagged toothed facade you could almost hear the whistles from long gone men and women drifting down from the windows.

It was funny that this place had originally been named Hope, back when it was all of a handful of buildings and the mine was being constructed. The people who moved here really had felt that way, apparently enough to stay. And then to stay even after it took on the moniker of Dreads Hand.

The place was no stranger to unfortunate occurrences, sickness had swept through many times. The loss of their priest and subsequently the loss of any religious presence. The decline of the mine as less and less ore could be found inside the red rock.

Maybe everyone just had gotten utterly sick of the place.

Maybe hope had died first, before any of her believers.

Midway through town you stopped again at what was once the saloon. Apparently the bartender was quite notorious, having been recognized during that summer as a fugitive who'd fled from Elturel and dodged execution.

She still would've been executed, if not for the fact that the woman had been the sole proprietor of the only lively business in the whole town so instead she spent her days chained to the bartop. They'd been loath to part with her, but she disappeared with all the rest.

By midday you had yet to see any fruits of your labor, each broken down pile of wood and brick held precious little in general but resoundingly no signs of any activity. The only thing alive here seemed to be yourself, and with each passing moment the unease of your initial entry to Dread ebbed as the wild, harsh sun beat down. If anything it felt oddly relaxing to explore the place, and it was at least a tiny bit exciting to see all the places that had only been abstract map markers to you previously.

If nothing happened tonight you were considering starting the trip back to Edgewater tomorrow, although you’d be lying if you said the prospect of witnessing the permanent night set in over Dreads Hand didn’t make you a little nervous. The other reason you would stay at least until nightfall passed was to see if the darkness brought with it any kind of beast. You’d be remiss to not at least make sure that what the people to the south reported wasn’t tied to the curse, but it was looking more and more likely that this was a case of simple rumor running too freely with peoples tongues, crafting phantoms and terrifying themselves.

—

1st of Eleint

Its been known that people can create false memories, our minds are simply weak and suggestable. It looks more and more likely that the vast majority of reports of strange happenings here are similar in nature to false memories.

There is no evidence of anything, malignant or malicious, making a home here.

—

The darkness was bewildering in its unnatural presence. Although you knew it was morning there was no way to tell, it was black as pitch both inside and outside the half destroyed little cabin you’d taken shelter in. It was no wonder why this was referred to as some curse, only some sort of unnerving magic could create a bubble of false night that could last for four months.

That darkness provided good cover to make your way towards the old mercantile at the very least, that spot provided a decently unobstructed view of the surrounding area and would be your perch for most of the day, waiting as soundlessly as possible for any signs of fresh activity before heading off around midday.

As unique as this place was, you’d be glad to have it facing your back. Something about creeping around in a town that felt more like one giant mausoleum felt lecherous, even the presumed dead shouldn’t have their rest disturbed.

Before you could step towards the threshold your nerves lit up, freezing you in place as you became all too aware of your own breathing. The doorway seemed more akin to a yawning maw, the splintered wood like rotted teeth waiting with bated breath to see if it’s prey would walk willingly into its gullet.

You couldn’t be sure, given the dark and your own rising anxiety, but it seemed as though something were moving in the shadowy depths of the place.

You need to leave.

The thought brought with it panic that gripped you hot and tight, making your heart start hammering so hard inside your chest it was a wonder your ribs don’t crack from the force.

“Do you want a head start?”

A voice drawls from inside, nearly making you yelp but you remain rooted to the spot as you catch a brief flash of reflective red breaking through the haze.

“Who- who is that?” you ask shakily, hating how you feel more like a frightened child.

Some primal instinct recognized the danger as you remained frozen, and it didn’t help that when the voice next spoke it seemed to be bouncing all around you, omnipotent and completely disguising the speakers location.

“If you want to be caught just keep standing still."

The inappropriate singsong of it tore you out of the quicksand pit that held you fast and without conscious thought you tore off in the opposite direction, feet pounding against the hardened red dirt and nearly choking on your own spit as your breathing came in erratic, harsh bursts.

It didn’t really matter where you were going, it didn't matter if you were belong followed, all you could think was to get to the one building that was blessedly still intact: the church. The half collapsed spire was your only guidepost as your pulse thundered in your ears and the feeling of bile sliding up your throat became nearly too much to bear.

As you flung the solid oak door open, before you could give a ragged exhale of relief, the floor gave a hideous groan and suddenly the world was off kilter, sideways as you met the solid rock bottom of a basement with a sick thud.

Although you instinctively tried to fall in a somewhat upright position, the momentum instead dragged you into an awkward roll, your body curling in a last ditch effort to protect your head. For a tiny eternity there was no air, there was no thought in your head, there was no light save for the blinding internal radiance as the impact blazed white hot agony through your body and behind your eyelids. Gasping, writhing on the cold, hard floor, you blinked teary eyes, staring at the hole that had just eaten you with the detached thought that this was just a hideously cruel nightmare. It was unreal, and it was painful.

For a moment you wanted nothing more than to give into self pity, to despair, the thought of no way out quickly grew from a frantic whisper to a screeching cacophony in your head as you took in the sight before you. There were no doors down here, in what could only be assumed to have been a basement, and as a chill crept up your legs you looked down to realize the floor was covered in about five inches of stagnant, stinking water.

Standing, you held in a ferocious gag, holding your hand over your dust coated mouth.

Stealth was out the window now, the sloshing of the water would give away your every movement. You focused on your breathing as you try gathering your bearings, choke down the urge to give up and the urge to start sobbing as you debate how best to get out of the current predicament.

All you could do was hope you made the right choice, that walking forward blindly would lead to a set of stairs.

The fear never left you, growing tangible with every sloshing footfall, afraid to even blink on the off chance you would open your eyes to a face leering at you from the dark.

It was difficult to even consider theories about what has happening as you trudged through the water in the darkness.

The voice had been human enough, maybe the dark had simply messed with your head more than you thought initially and all you'd really done was made yourself look insane to another hunter or adventurer. Worse, maybe it was someone who thought playing jokes in this place was funny and in a moment someone would help you find your way out of here, laughing at your expense all the while.

—

After sloughing through the mildew thick air of the basement eventually you did manage to find stairs leading upwards, but the small victory was quickly soured by indecision. A fresh hallway of doors stretched before you, its length exaggerated by the psychological pressure and possibly from the effects of hitting solid stone like a sack of vegetables.

Your indecision acted as a paralytic, leaving you like a small prey animal hoping if it stays frozen the great beast close by wouldn’t catch it by the scruff.

After a moment you were able to push through the feeling, squeezing your eyes shut for just a moment before taking determined steps through the hall, ignoring the taunting doors as your momentum built.

If that person was present in the main chapel they would be lucky to find one of your shortswords buried in between their shoulder blades for all the trouble they’ve caused you.

Anger was better than fear, it was emboldening but it also made you sloppy, made you stop considering the environment or the present threat as a threat.

A mistake that would cost you.

The shattered stained glass windows weak light filtered through, what managed to not be stamped out by the unnatural darkness outside. The chapel was beautiful, somehow surviving against the weathering of time that ravaged every other building in Dreads Hand. As you scanned the isles your jaw clenched tight, hoping to spot the irresponsible lout.

“Most people just hide, you know. I have to commend you for making it back up here, that basement is truly nasty.”

Shaking you spun around in a circle, desperate to clap eyes on the speaker after all this time.

Framed by the faint illumination was a man that hadn’t been there only seconds before, and he didn’t shy away from your gaze. Slow, deliberate footsteps against the creaky planks filled the space, and he struck you as uncommonly graceful given he was dressed in the leathers of a ranch hand.

The closer he came the more the gaping pit inside your stomach grew.

His grin was easy, full of genuine joy seeing you covered in dust and half soaked in old, disgusting water. Those eyes you’d seen in the mercantile nearly took your breath away now seeing them in detail, a deep red the color or coagulated blood and you noticed the glint of slight points peeking from his smile.

“It’s a shame for you that you gave me a massive advantage. Being in that water meant I could hear you all the way up here, stomping around like an ox.” He said.

You couldn’t believe the truly, monumentally terrible luck you had.

The people in Edgewater were afraid of phantoms, but not the smoke and mirrors kind. The kind that beckoned from the dark, all waxy pale flesh and flashing teeth.

Hallowleafs words teased at your mind, the fragment about the horse hand. Was that the man standing in front of you now? If so he was significantly older than he appeared, though that was always common among vampires.

A vampire.

Is that what befell all the people who lived here? Had this man gone into a feeding frenzy? No, there would have been bodies.

A shiver quakes down your spine at a sobering realization: it's likely the people of Dreads Hand had never disappeared at all.

“Stay away from me.” You finally find your voice, and your nerve as you pull both shortswords from their holsters on your back.

He waves his hand flippantly. “Yes, yes, the hunter with her fearsome weapons. What a tease you are, filling the place up with the scent of you then denying the hungry wolf at the door.”

Your grip on the hilts tightened, your right foot sliding forward ever so slightly as you ready yourself to go on the offensive.

“Not going to run, hm? I think you’re the liveliest thing to pass through in ages.” His grin widened, and you were given a taste of just how outclassed you truly were.

You didn’t think of the mirthful smile he wore, the much too excited tenor of his voice. All you could think of was keeping his mouth away from your flesh as he knocked you off balance, movements much faster than your eyes could track and blood trickled into your mouth as your back hit the floor with a choked groan.

But there was no time for your pain. If you could not get out of this situation you would die, that was simple fact.

It was too bad the victor had already been decided the moment you set foot here, and as your weapons were knocked from your proximity to skitter across the floor you heard your fathers voice once more.

“It’s in the blood.”

Rotten, horrendous luck.

What shocked you the most was not the weight of him as he pinned you to the floor, not the icy chill of his skin on yours. It was the kiss he placed against the side of your sweaty neck, making your muscles go so rigid your back lifted from the floor ever so slightly.

A wholly pathetic sob bubbled in your chest but given your current position there was no room for pride. In an instant you were reduced to nothing but a crying child, a child crushed by overwhelming loneliness and naked fear.

“There’s no need for tears, come on now.” You could hear the sweetness in his voice and it was such a sharp contrast with the overall situation that it made dizziness swell and pound in your head.

You didn’t respond, not even as you felt his tongue slide over the skin covering your jugular. All you could do was remain locked in on the stained glass window. The visage of the morning lord totally indifferent to your suffering.

The touch of his lips on your neck was shockingly cold, you wouldn’t have believed it was a mouth until you felt the needle-like puncture of fangs and the secure grip of his molars. That made you jump, squealing, but he held you in place which was a good thing because jostling knife sharp fangs leads to wider rips in the skin. The pain sharply worked down through the rest of your body, the unnatural intrusion of something beneath the skin sending you right back into high alert. And when his lips closed around the created wound to suck it was as if he also sucked all the air from your lungs.

A little whimper left your mouth, almost confused because even with the unambiguous pain of being bitten, there was something more. The wet release that followed the bite bloomed out from the point where his fangs pierced your neck in a numbing wave.

You stilled, rational thought kicking in and forcing you to not slam your hands into his chest, dislodging him could potentially rip a much more fatal wound in your neck.

As lightheadedness crept in on you, you wondered if every victim of a bite felt the same euphoria that was seeping through the layers of your muscles and bones now. Maybe that was part of it, something like venom that could relax someone and keep a feeding mess free.

Or maybe it was a small act of mercy afforded to the victim, a few final moments not full of pain and insanity.

Fading took no effort at all, and you gave no resistance as the world slid away.

You woke to sickness clawing its way up your throat, churning violently in your stomach as your various aches returned to you full force. The ache in your limbs and the throbbing sharp pain in your neck were particularly horrific. Nothing made sense, coming back to you in bits and pieces.

You were sure he’d killed you, had felt it. Terror at the unfamiliar was worse than the terror of knowing your life would end. The confusion made for an even cloudier disposition as you tore the threadbare sheet from your body and made a clumsy attempt at getting up out of the rotting pew you had been placed in.

Very quickly it was obvious that your injuries were worse than you thought, adrenaline had blocked the brunt of the awareness of them and you nearly went tumbling headfirst into the floor once again.

“Easy,” he said, moving to catch you before the wood could kiss your jaw.

His grip reignited a fresh round of fear as you thrashed against him, desperate to push him away.

“You- you’re,” the words were like thick paste in your mouth, as if someone stuffed cotton between your teeth. You decided perhaps you were concussed.

“I normally go by Astarion.” That smile was back, and it made something else ache inside you.

When has anyone looked at you in such a…happy way?

Quickly you bristled. “What are you doing to me?”

He raised his hands up before speaking. “Whatever happened to you during that fall had nothing to do with me, you know. Although I’d guess whatever blow to the head you took isn’t doing you any favors.”

“If someone hadn’t decided to play tricks on me maybe I wouldn’t have run head first into a collapsing church.” You spit back at him, Astarion, as your eyes roam his face.

He was handsome you realized, it had been obscured before by all the heightened emotion and pain. Even if he was a vampire, his eyes were like old rubies and his hair fell in beautiful short curls that framed his ears just enough to be called artful. It was particularly cruel, how he seemed perfectly crafted to put those thoughts in your head and then tear at your flesh in the same second.

“I have to be dead. This is some death hallucination.” You weren’t speaking to him specifically but he answered all the same.

“Would it make you feel better if I agreed?”

You shot him a petulant glare as you curled in on yourself a bit, on the part of the pew farthest from him.

“What are you playing at? You’re a vampire, you kill things. I should be dead.”

“I’ve never been in the presence of such a knowledgeable slayer, do you have any more snippets of wisdom?”

Your expression soured further, incredulous that he was poking fun at you in all this. Ignoring him your eyes drifted to the room around you two, and part of you sagged in relief to see your supply packs had been slung on the floor.

He followed your line of sight, spotting what had caught your attention.

“You’re welcome for lugging all that down here. I hope you don’t mind that I took a peek at your journal for the trouble. Plus I needed to occupy myself while you snored.”

Your first instinct was to vehemently deny snoring, which struck you as so absurd you could almost laugh if not for the cut of knowing a stranger, a monster, had been nosing through your innermost thoughts.

He stood then, grabbing the tattered book from its pocket before tossing it to you with mirth dancing in his eyes,

“Also, it’s slightly disappointing that no one has figured out the obvious out there yet. It’s a good thing you decided to come here, but a little stupid as well. What sort of monster hunter just walks right into the den?” he barked out a quick laugh, making you cringe as tears pricked in the corners of your eyes.

Bastard. It’s not enough to bite you, leave you a mass of tender bruises and torn flesh, but he has to insult you on top of it.

Not for the first time you cursed your woeful luck, wished you hadn’t had to do any of this alone. Nothing would’ve gone so wrong if your father were still around.

“Come on now, there’s no need to cry.” he sat back down along the edge of the pew as you eyed him warily. “I know you’re afraid but really, I’m not going to hurt you. Well, not anymore but that honestly was your own fault.”

“I want to leave.” You blurt out, feeling your hands start to shake from the effort of holding in your tears, holding on to the shred of pride you had left. The words made you feel once more like a little child, demanding to go home.

“Well, that’s not going to happen, sorry.” He said, not as a threat but as casually as if you were chatting about the weather. He was just telling you what was, an irrefutable fact.

You decide to bluff. “Someone will come for me.”

“According to that journal you’re all alone out here, and I think it would be highly unusual for someone to lie to themselves in one of those.” He pointed at the book where it landed on the bed. “Besides, you’re far too interesting and delicious to just let go.”

Your breathing was starting to go from just unsteady to too fast and ragged as he kept speaking. Being called delicious, reducing you to a meal, it all was too much. You began spiraling about the possibility that you were doomed to be a vampires personal replenishing snack until the day he let you die.

“You’re insane.” You whisper, hand coming up to cover the now scabbed puncture wounds, wincing as even the slight pressure made them start throbbing with renewed vigor.

“Maybe a little, but look at it my way. Stuck here for over a century with nothing but my mysterious and tragic past, wandering and picking off unfortunate travelers. We’re... alike, you know.”

His words were far away as your mind clung to that last sentence. We’re alike.

“How could that be? What about the other people that were here?” Your brows furrowed, assuming already he was lying to you.

He sighed, looking away. “Well, you can only keep about two hundred vampires rooted in one place for so long before we all get a little strange. It didn’t help the Lord died, what were we to do? Most killed each other or tried to take off but charred after leaving.”

Thats why there’d never been a body, and it wasn’t a priest that died. Or maybe he’d been one once, but the picture was forming crystal clear in your mind.

Dreads Hand had been a haven of vampires possibly from its inception, and perhaps the semi permanent night had been a final gift of protection from their Lord.

“I am sorry about your father by the way.”

You stiffened. “Stop.”

The anger you could muster was a weak thing, fleeting as the last rays of sunlight before dark, eroded by the seed he’d planted of your similarity. Compassion and sameness through loss.

Silence hung so heavily in the air you figured you could slice it with one of your swords if you had them. Picking at the skin around your nails you tried coming to terms with all this new information crowding you.

Maybe he was right. What was waiting for you back out there, anywhere? A continuation of this life of solitude so crushing it felt like Tyrs own hand pressing down against your chest?

“I told you, I don’t want to hurt you. Really I just… may have been overeager in my effort to speak with you.” That made you snort, half in agreement.

The way you tossed your head to the side dismissively was a mistake, a hissing inhale sucked through your teeth feeling the delicate scabs from his fangs rip open. Clapping your hand over the wound once again you can't help the surprised noise that escapes you upon seeing your own blood smeared across your palm when you pull it back, and it's not lost on you the way his eyes zero in on the scarlet mess immediately.

Time seems to stand still as you watch him, every miniscule detail of how his pupils dilated so heavily there was only a thin ruby ring framing them, how his tongue ran across his teeth and his breathing pattern became ever so slightly erratic.

A part of you felt truly sad for him then, shackled to this base instinct to feed and from everything you know about their kind the hunger is ever present, it's own constant torture. How miserable it must have been being stuck in a place with precious little sustenance, and even fewer ways to anchor oneself to sanity.

Hesitantly you stretched out your hand, as one might with a handful of food for an apprehensive animal. All at once the attitude of the space shifted along with something inside your chest.

Your breath caught in your throat at the first touch of his tongue against your palm, an experimental stripe he licked across the center before sucking on your index in a way that made you avert your eyes. The action was lewd enough, but the sounds coming from deep within his throat were absolutely obscene, gravelly groans vibrating against your hand as he moved from one finger to the next.

It was mesmerizing, and embarrassingly it made you feel dampness growing between your legs.

His movements were animalistic as his lips moved from your hand up your wrist, lavishing your skin in a trail of sloppy kisses but the chill his spit left behind wasn't wholly unpleasant.

It shocked you even more when he pulled away to speak.

“It may not be wise to, but if you're able-”

“Yes.” The word came from your lips before you could stop it, feeling overwhelmed by the bizarre passion his movements displayed and the way his voice had become so small as he asked.

What was more shocking was that he asked, nobody had ever asked after your comfort a day in your life.

He pulled you closer against himself, supporting the back of your head with one hand as the other supported his weight behind your back, and you shook in his grasp feeling his spit mingling with the blood coagulated against the side of your neck and down your shirt collar.

He was inhumanly cold but the leather and fabric covering him compensated for it, all well worn softness as your hands used his frame to steady yourself in anticipation of a fresh wave of pain.

You yelped as he moved you to straddle his lap, nearly choking as you felt his erection through the leather and your hips moved on their own, lightly grinding down before he stopped you, hands gripping your hips firmly.

“I wouldn't blame you if that's not something you wanted, we did only just meet after all.” His voice was gentle, like a balm to the cracks that had been forming inside you for longer than you cared to admit.

“Is it something you want?” You ask breathlessly, lips moving against his cheek as he kept his face close to the weeping wound at your neck.

Your hand finds the hair at the base of his neck, fingers toying with the soft white curls and pulling a small shiver from up his spine.

“Adrenaline sours blood, but pleasure gives it a much better profile…” he spoke absentmindedly in between licking at your skin.

You could feel his hand spider crawling against the waistband of your pants, making you groan softly against the side of his head, fingers tightening ever so slightly into his hair. That only seemed to urge him on, one hand undoing the garment just enough to slip his hand in to press against your clit through the fabric of your underwear.

You whimper, thighs pressing close together around his hand and forcing it to grind against you with more force which made your hips jerk like you were struck with electricity.

It felt like you were on fire, boiling from the inside out as you rutted against his hand, whimpering in open mouthed exhales against his hair. Each of your movements were sloppy and frantic as you raised yourself up slightly, desperate to be rid of the restrictive garments and your hands pawed at the leathers around his hips.

In a fumbling blur you were back on his lap, naked from the waist down and soon pulling his straining erection from its confines. You run your tongue across your teeth as your hand pumps him up and down, smearing precum with your thumb and relishing in the cracked moans that fall from his lips. His tip was so flushed, a pretty throbbing pink that made your body ache to feel him inside of yourself.

And he was quick to catch the edge of your need, digging his fingers into your hips in encouragement for you to rise slightly, just enough to slide his head through the mess of arousal before lining up. The stretch around him was bliss, a feeling of fullness that made your mouth drop open as you let out a low keen.

As you sunk down fully, ass meeting the tops of his thighs his fingers were quick to make deft little circles against your clit and pulling more of those little sounds from you as a seamstress pulls spools of thread. Through your half open eyes you could see the grin crossing his features and it made adoration fizz in your chest.

But as your hips began moving his grip became firm, halting you and holding you in place, full of throbbing desire as his lips caught yours in a searing kiss only parting from you with the slightest of bites to your bottom lip.

Before you could pout his lips were moving from your jaw down your throat, making you tip your head back slightly to give him better access.

"Is this a condition of release?" You rasp, fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck again.

You could feel the vibration from his voice as he spoke against your flesh, "Every second you're squirming only makes you sweeter."

You bite your own lip at that, trying to hold in a groan feeling his fingers moving at a snails pace in circles around your clit anew, keeping your body on edge but providing no relief.

Cruel.

There is no opening for complaint though, not as his tongue swiped thick, wet stripes against your skin before you feel the pinprick that lead to a sharp bloom of pain. It took your breath away, helpless in his grasp and filled to the brim with him. It's all you could do to control the wild urges to buck your hips as he sucked against the fresh wound, coaxing you towards lightheadedness with every mouthful of your lifeblood.

After an agonizing wait he guided your twitching hips into movement, jerky at first since your body was simply craving orgasm but soon enough you fall into a rhythm and the soft sounds of leather creasing mingle with the wet squelches of your cunt clamping around him with every rise and fall of your hips.

Every sensation goes to your head in a rush, like a tirade of bubbles furiously rising to disturb a placid surface of water but before you could come undone he stops you, slows the frantic motion of your hips until you're a teary eyed mess, a puddle held precariously in his hands.

Reflected in his eyes you can just barely make yourself out: your own eyes blown wide and glossy, twin puncture wounds you're sure are set against deep reds and purples.

Has anyone ever even desired to touch you before?

The answer is no, and there's no room for rational thought when the man whose lap you're sat on and whose cock sits heavy inside you has made you feel more seen than you've felt in a lifetime. It feels like rapture, ecstasy, and the longer you linger in his gaze the deeper you fall.

Your eyes roll back as he latches onto the fresh wound once more, widening it ever so slightly with the points of his incisors to reignite the flow of blood. You flutter and pulse around him as he drinks from you yet again, the world taking on a dreamlike quality.

As you glance up you see the shattered, half shaped visage of the morning lord once more.

It doesn't matter if his eyes nor anyone elses can reach you here.

This man, Astarion, gives you something more that you feel a sudden zealous need to protect, curl yourself around it and give yourself over when it calls.

As you lose track of yourself, time, and the space around you with every pass of his fingers against your sticky clit you aren't sure why you had been so resistant to the idea of staying.

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dragonmurray · 1 month

Text

Dinner and Diatribes;

Gale x F!Tav (she/her, AFAB) [note: references to the fact Tav is Curvy but there’s no descriptors on her appearance besides what she’s wearing]

Summary: Gale gets his perfect night in Waterdeep.

Rating: M (18+ MDNI)

CW: smut (oral sex, PiV sex, fingering, slight overstim, references to Dom!Gale but he doesn’t actually make an appearance this time), insecurity, General Mystra Warning, L-bombs

Word count: 4.5k

Notes: this was originally written with my SorcBard Tav in mind. They end up together post-game and Tav and Gale have not been with each other physically as of yet.

Read on Ao3

Tav appraised her appearance one last time, nerves bubbling up in her when she knew there ought not to be any. She was having dinner with Gale, not a stranger.

Yet, she tugged at the lacy sleeves of her tunic, the cream colored fabric dangling off her shoulders and belling at the sleeves. Her breasts were up and out, figure tucked and smoothed by the sturdy corset she wore. The wrap skirt, slit at the leg with stockings underneath, was periwinkle, hugged her hips and showed some skin. She had wanted to veer away from the normally shapeless practicality of the protective gear she wore throughout their journey.

And she found the delicate pale blue embroidery against the white fabric of the garment to be quite pretty, the silk bows that served as sleeves made her think of romantic ballads. She felt delight at wearing something pretty without thinking of practicality for the first time since being taken by the nautiloid. There was a novelty to sitting down to take time to get ready for something fun rather than something that could potentially end with blood and death.

Her eyes drifted over to the corner of the room that until recently had housed a small altar to the Mother of Magic.

In its place was a vase of flowers, Tav’s favorite colors and blooms, which had appeared that morning. The altar itself had mysteriously disappeared the day after they first arrived in Waterdeep. Neither of them had said anything about it, but she knew he had seen her staring at the dusty offerings and long burnt incense laid at the feet of an idol of his former lover.

With one last look in the mirror she bolstered herself. She was no goddess but she had defeated a Vampire Lord, undead generals, a 200 year curse, hordes of goblins and a Netherbrain. That had to count for something.

Taking a deep breath she left through the bedroom door, and was met by Gale.

Well, Gale’s double. A projection, as he was often fond of using.

“Greetings! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep!”

“Oh, are you?” She asked sarcastically.

“I am indeed!”

Sarcasm was not translated into the projection it seemed.

“If you are ready for the evening to begin, please say so, if not, I shall await your confirmation.”

Tav smiled a little, “I’m ready.”

“Please follow me.”

She followed him down to the same level as the study, and she found herself confused. They were meant to be having dinner. The whole package, she had recalled, he wanted to wine and dine her. She expected to be escorted to the dining room, not the study.

The door was closed, and the projection gave a polite bow to signal its leave. Should she knock? Uncertain, she gripped the door handle and opened the door.

Immediately she was confronted with a wave of unfamiliar smells. Normally the study smelt like the fireplace, leather of bound books, ink and slight sea air from the terrace. Instead this smelled of savory food, crisp night air, and heavy sea spray. The entry was draped by lavish silk curtains hiding any view of the room, tassels and embroidered prints creating lovely textures.

Gale stood waiting for her arrival.

His hair was pulled back and pinned neatly in his new fashion of a small bun at the back of his head. He wore a white tunic, billowed sleeves and a jerkin of sapphire blue, embroidered intricately with bronze filigree. Dark blue breeches, and what looked to be blue shoes which matched his vest.

It also looked as if he had trimmed his beard, the lines smooth and incredibly sleek. Tav had certainly noticed how handsome he was during their travels, and even then he was always somewhat genteel despite the rugged conditions.

This was different. He seemed more in his element like this, maybe not quite so formally dressed, but she could imagine this was the Gale Dekarios which caught the eye of a Goddess. Confident, gentlemanly and remarkably good looking.

His eyes lit up at the sight of her.

“Hello,” she said, aware how nervous and jittery her voice was despite her smile.

“Hello,” Gale grinned. “You look… exquisite.”

She blushed. “And you look very good in blue.”

Gale kissed her cheek, and she gripped his face to make sure he kissed her properly. “I’ve prepared everything,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“For you? Always.”

Like a true gentleman, he offered her his arm and she accepted. They walked through the fabric barrier and Tav audibly gasped at the transformation. The study was changed, made to look like an enchanting garden. Lit up by candelabras, framed by arches made of vines and flowers of every color imaginable, it was beautiful.

The view from the terrace had been expanded, so that from every angle a clear view of the glittering lights of Waterdeep glinted. The entire mirage was topped with a star filled sky and the moon hanging at the horizon of the water. She could feel a breeze, not too cold but carrying the scent of the ocean.

A table sat at the center, intimate, and music was playing from some unseen source. Most likely the enchanted piano. Where she knew the terrace was, his couch still stood, overlooking the view. The sounds coming through beyond the music were real, she could tell. It was simultaneously an illusion and blissfully real.

He led her to the table, pulled out her chair for her and then sat across from her. The smile on her face was starting to hurt her cheeks, only emphasized by another Gale projection bringing them wine. They toasted each other and she looked out on the view of the city.

“Do you like it?” He sounded uncertain.

Her hand came out to grab his across the table. “It’s hard to describe, but like isn’t a strong enough word.” She glanced over to the projection of Gale waiting to be summoned for any need they may have, “although I think the waiter fancies me.”

“I applaud his taste.”

It was very clear how meticulously planned the night had been. From the food to the wine, Gale had an exuberant explanation for his choices. For a moment Tav wondered why she would be nervous at all; they had shared every meal together for months. But, Tav knew that this was the courtship he had wanted to offer her, this was the night he wished he could have given her when he thought it was his last back on the road to Moonrise.

Gale, if he was nervous, did not show it. Instead his eyes glinted with excitement, eagerness, and delight. His gaze was so intense on her, she felt like either the wine or something else was making her brain fuzzy.

After dinner they danced, slow uncomplicated movements to the music from the piano for a while, and then settled onto the settee looking out at the water. The night sky was clear, the breeze from the bay adding a bit of chill that balanced out the warmth she felt from the wine. It was a beautiful tapestry of midnight blue and silver of the moon and stars.

She leaned against him half draped over his lap as her legs stretched out, fingers dancing over his palm which lay in her lap. His other hand gently danced over her arm and down her side. She thought she may melt at the warmth of his lips pressed against her bare shoulder, beard softly scratching as he lingered there.

“You ought to be careful, Gale.”

“Oh? What dangers lurk that I am unaware of?”

“The danger of spoiling me rotten,” she chuckled.

“I’m not averse to such a risk,” he nuzzled behind her ear, “quite the opposite, really. You deserve it, and more.”

Her mind rolled over that, heart full at his earnestness as usual. Even if she didn’t believe it, he certainly did.

“Thank you,” she said thoughtfully after a moment. “This night has been so wonderful.”

“It’s not over yet,” he whispered.

A shiver ran down her spine. No words finding their way to her lips.

“If I may be so bold,” he went on, “I’d like to partake in dessert somewhere more private.”

“Tell me, Chef Dekarios, what is on the dessert menu tonight?”

“You,” he said, a grin evident in his voice. “I’d have laid you across the dinner table if I hadn’t promised us both a bed first and foremost. You truly are a temptress,” his hand broke from her loving grasp to run along the curve of her neck, and shoulder, fingers trailing over the tops of her breasts before cupping her chin, “you incite such an insatiable hunger, even when you are doing nothing more than sitting there across from me. If you’ll allow it, I’d like to finally have a taste.”

Tav’s head tipped back, eyes closed as her skin began to flush and her heart began to thud in her chest. “I’ll allow anything you want,” she breathed. “Name it, it’s yours.”

“Tav,” he murmured.

“Yours.” She repeated.

A tug in her stomach and the strange shift of moving through the weave happened so suddenly, she opened her eyes, confused by her new surroundings. She was on her feet, Gale behind her still, but in the bedroom, no longer shrouded by lovely blue night sky but the warmth of a candle lit room and the familiar walls.

Gale murmured something, and then spun her around to kiss her. Needy, fervent meetings of lips, and tongues. Her fists curled into the fabric of his sleeves, and his settled on either side of her face. She felt a tugging at her back, then the cool brush of an unseen hand. He had conjured a mage hand to untie her corset, the fingers pulling at the strings to loosen them.

Before it managed to get them all the way undone, she was fumbling with buttons on his vest. She shrugged the heavy corset off, the thud of it falling to the ground ignored as she pushed his own garment off his shoulders. Before he could distract her with his hands again, she untucked his shirt and pulled the fabric over his head.

Her fingers danced over his warm skin, feeling hair and scars and firm muscle beneath flesh. Gale groaned, bending to grip her by the generous flesh of her thighs to pull her up in his arms, for the quick journey to the bed where he set her down. Her tunic was tugged off, thrown aside and he grunted in displeasure at the thin cloth bandeau that still covered her breasts.

Tav chuckled, grabbing the scrap of fabric and pulling it overhead. Gale’s eyebrows hiked up at the sight of her tits out, heavy and round with already pebbled nipples, and under the scrutiny she felt doubt creep in.

“Not what you were hoping for?” It was half a joke, a deflection for the blush she knew was on her face, something to do besides wrap her arms around herself.

“Are you completely mad?” He finally met her eyes, looking offended. “May I?”

She nodded, only to be firmly guided onto her back as Gale put one knee between her thighs on the bed and leaned forward.

His hands grabbed, not fully able to grasp, even with hands larger than her own. “Soft,” he thought out loud to himself. “How are you so soft?”

“I-I don't know,” she hitched a breathy tone. “Ah, gentle please,” she gasped when he began pinching and rolling the peaks between his fingers, calloused fingers from years of spell work and a combined over-excited pinch both thrilling and overstimulating, “they’re very sensitive.”

“Very important information,” he murmured, running a thumb over one in a soothing motion that still made her gasp out loud. “I wonder…”

The thought trailed off as his mouth clasped around one nipple and Tav gave an undignified squeal as her hips rolled. Too many layers between her skirt and underclothes to provide her the relief she wanted, even with his knee between her thighs. Each brush of his finger over one, followed by a firm squeeze, made her twitch and the laving of his tongue had her letting out soft little moans.

Finally he pulled away, watching as his hands continued where he left off. One hand danced over her soft stomach, and slipped down towards the waistband of her skirt, tickling the skin there until she gasped a laugh. He pushed down her stockings, tugged her skirt off and looked one last time for approval before he slipped her under things down her legs.

For a moment, his eyes darted over her body. Despite the thrill of being at the center of such avid admiration, she felt the need to do something in the face of it. A conflicting moment of uncertainty, the apprehension of him seeing any flaw in her moving her to try distract him. Her fingers came up to grab, but he gently redirected her wrist to his lips.

“You are perfect beyond imagining,” he said.

“You’re a flatterer,” she breathed, her eyes avoiding his, as they trailed over his torso and to the bulge in his breeches.

“I reject that accusation,” he said, grabbing a pillow and tossing it onto the floor before he got to his knees upon it. “I’m an admirer of art.”

Tav rolled her eyes with a half laugh as she allowed her legs to be spread, heels set on the edge of the bed. He kissed each one as he set them where he wanted, beard scratching and tongue peaking out to taste.

She was a little in awe of him like this. His eyes dark, a slight smirk painted onto his face, softened only when he met her eyes and smiled at her. With his broad shoulders forcing her legs wider as he moved further between them, and his hair coming out of his once immaculate bun, she felt her throat run dry and a heat rush through her body as she admired him.

He stopped suddenly, and she met his look of intentional seriousness. “If you need me to stop,” he said, “say the word and we will.”

She nodded her head.

He kissed the inside of her thigh again, before his eyes slid down his hands massaging around her outer lips. She was wet, it had smeared her thighs, that she already knew. A gentle gasp pulled from her lungs as he took his time, rubbing and spreading her, the same look of deep focus on his face as when he was taken with an interesting tome.

Gale rubbed along the seam of her, before spreading her open and gently rubbing her clit. A choked sound emitted from her after he commented, “you’re soaked, my love.”

“All your doing, beloved,” she replied.

“I do love hearing that,” he grinned. “You’ll have to tell me what else I do to you.”

Any response died away when he licked a long stripe along her. The slightest groan came from him, and he began to work. It was agonizing heaven, the filthy sounds as he sucked and licked at her cunt and the way he gripped her thighs only enhancing the actual sensation of his mouth on her.

Half-formed thoughts kept slipping out of her mouth until only single words and whines were all she could muster. Her hands slid over his, and he laced them together, his efforts doubling after the gesture of affection. Her excitement was running so high, anticipation adding to arousal, that she knew she would not last long.

“Gale,” she breathed, “feels so good — so close —“

He never pulled away, just found what was making her legs writhe over his shoulders the most, what made her hips search for friction, and her breath spike. Her hands gripped his so both of them had a firm grip of her thighs, as she suddenly teetered over the edge, heavy waves of pleasure singing in her veins as he licked her through it.

Except once it passed, he did not pull away. It felt good, so she was not going to push him off, but she was sensitive. Each touch of his tongue on her clit felt like a shock through her whole being making her legs clamp around him. He let go of her hands and pushed her thighs apart again, she thought that alone had her ready to fall apart once more.

Relentless and yet somehow still controlled, he was singularly intent on making her come again. The sensation almost scared her as she greedily chanted for more, more, more in her head and maybe aloud, she couldn’t be sure. Gale was groaning into her, the firmness of his grip surprising her still. She wanted him inside of her.

“Please“ she started to beg, “fuck me.”

He gave a moan, the only time she felt him falter. “One more, my love,” he replied. A demand or a promise, maybe both. “Give me one more.”

He let his fingers work over her this time, still between her legs, watching each movement she made. For her credit, she kept her hips and legs from knocking him away, the rest of her body making up for it. Her back arched, she writhed and gripped the bedding beneath her like it was going to anchor her.

When Gale slipped a finger inside of her, easy enough that he tried a second, she went stiff. “Good?”

She nodded her head.

“Words, please, Tav,” he said gently. It occurred to her he may be asking after her wellbeing rather than to tease.

Either way, she loved the feeling in her brain at the idea of it being a demand. Of him tormenting her in the most beautiful way.

“Good!” She blurted out. “So fucking good.”

His mouth had expertly pulled her apart, but she was finding his fingers to be just as talented. She clamped down around the digits pushing in her as she felt herself falling to pieces.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Good, Tav…” when she opened her eyes, she was met with him staring at hers. As if he could read her mind, he went on talking, “come undone for me.”

Her whole being responded to the request, as if he had the ability to command her body with just a word. She writhed and rolled her hips as she came, a truly unrestrained string of cries that she knew were a bit too loud. Gale’s hand cupped her cunt, and she could feel the pulse of it against his hand — his face giving way to pure want as he moaned.

“Alright?” He asked after a moment.

“Would be better if I had you inside of me,”she teased, giddily.

“Minx,” he grumbled, coming to stand.

“Tease,”she shot back sitting up.

When she kissed him he tasted distinctly of her arousal, and somehow it made her heart skip a beat. Her tongue danced over his, hand trailing down his chest to the waistband of his breeches, untying as she went. Her hands slipped inside, grasping through his underclothes at the length of his cock, hard and tenting the fabric.

Gale gave a sinful groan, eyes shut tight and when she started to stroke his jaw went slack.

Tav chuckled, “feel good, my darling?”

“Too good,” he grunted, hand gripping her wrist tight. “It’s been… far too long since I’ve — erm, partaken in pleasure on this plane, so to speak.”

Tav frowned, contemplating that, her eyes drifting to the space where Mystra’s altar had once been then back to him. “That’s okay,” she said immediately. “I don’t care.”

“You might,” he replied, wry smile masking what she knew to be embarrassment creeping up on him, “when the night ends rather, prematurely.”

Tav shrugged. “Then we drink some wine and wait until you’re up to more,” she said casually tugging off the rest of his clothes. “I didn’t wait all this time to have you just once tonight anyway.”

Gale licked his lips, eyebrows twitching up in interest.

She tugged at his wrist, “lay back,” she guided him onto the bed, pushing him to sit with his back against the headboard. “We can go slow.”

Gale got comfortable, hands grabbing at her hips when she settled in his lap. Her fingers danced over the orbs mark, raised like a scar but looking almost inked in like a tattoo. The fervor had stalled just slightly, his cock still hard between them but no longer pulsing as it had in her hand.

“What would our friends say if they knew what you were hiding under those robes,” she mused, arms curling over his broad shoulders.

“I rather think I held my own on our intrepid journeys,” he said, sounding more like himself. “Aside from the creaky knees.”

“That you did,” she agreed. “I would have been lost without you.”

She kissed him, slowly and affectionately, as she lifted herself a bit. Her fingers danced down his body again, taking their time to admire the sturdiness he hid under his wizard robes day to day.

Finger nails scratched through the hair that trailed down his torso, and into the thicker patch between his legs. She gripped him again, and he moaned into her mouth, the kiss matching his needy grasp on the flesh of her hips.

Unable to help herself from teasing, she dragged the head of him through her folds, letting him feel how wet she was for him. His brow furrowed harshly.

As she lined him up and slowly sank down, she was torn between watching every minuscule change in his expression and closing her eyes to relish the perfect fit. He stopped kissing her, the shuddering breath he drew and the way his eyes started to roll back giving her that much more satisfaction.

Her own gasp filled the soundless space between them, walls fluttering at the intrusion. “Gods, you feel so good,” she whined.

Gale was speechless. Voice stolen by deep concentration, and then his eyes opened. For a singular moment Tav felt as if she was the only other person in the world, the pure look of awe and combined sharp focus of his attention made her feel ten feet tall.

How could anyone, goddess or not, take his sincere devotion for granted?

“Do you want me to move?”

“Not yet,” he whispered desperately. “Just — please, let me —“

He pulled her to him, bodies pressing at almost every point. His arms were a tight wrap around her, his cheek pressed against her forehead as she gave him gentle kisses along his neck. It felt not dissonant to their time in the astral, joined in every way, but this felt somehow more intimate. To hold him within her, and still have him hold her safely in his arms — a perfect balance she could hardly fathom.

“Kiss me,” Gale breathed. “Please.”

Tav did as asked, fingers tangled in his hair and very gently rocked her hips. He groaned, grip becoming bruising, pausing the kiss and then coming back to it again. Slowly she started to rock, then raise her hips and roll them forward until she was slowly bouncing, the slap of her skin meeting his filling the room.

Gale broke from the kiss, hands moving to the sides of her face. That same look, as if he had seen something beyond his wildest imaginings; focused, stunned and reverent. She never felt so loved in her life, she was certain.

As if she could will the same feeling into him, she pressed their foreheads together. She moaned, as he hit just right within her. Sensitive, eager and greedy she chased the sensation.

“I love you,” she gasped.

His expression crumpled, and he groaned grabbing her around the waist so she had to stop. She could feel his cock throbbing inside of her. “You are… you — I love you —“ he grunted. “Please, let me — feel you.”

She slowed her movements to a subtle rock, which rubbed against something in her that made her entire body seize up in intense sensation. He murmured affirmations to her, face buried in her hair, his hand grabbing at her ass to pull her back and forth.

“I have to feel it,” he said, need dripping from his tone, “buried in you, I must —“

Her mouth left sloppy kisses wherever she could leave them as she rutted against him. As another sweet peak approached she leaned back, bouncing just slightly to get what she needed. Gale’s eyes flicked down to her chest, to where they were joined, and back to her face. Her body started to pulse, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

It felt so good. The drag of him against her walls, the blunt intrusion as she rolled her hips. Whines fell from her lips, she closed her eyes to focus in on the sensation, head thrown back in ecstasy.

As she peaked her legs shook on either side of him, hips moving out of pure instinct for more as she felt herself tighten around him. Uncontrollable pulses, grabbing and sucking him as far as she could talk him and a gush of wetness that added deliciously lewd sounds.

Gale seemed to stop breathing for a moment, before something in him snapped. He grabbed her hips, and with bent knees and feet planted on the soft sheets began fucking up into her.

More ruthless than she had expected, desperate and selfish and needy. It was nearly enough to get her to the edge again. Grunts from somewhere in the back of his throat joined her shocked cries telling him ‘yes’ over and over again.

He watched as he disappeared inside of her, mouth open as he panted, and then finally he broke.

With a swiftness she didn’t expect he pulled out of her, but his arms came around in a caging embrace so he still rubbed against her wet folds. He whined, as his hips jerked without any sort of pattern, punctuated by the hot splashes of him coming. Sticky, wet and warm.

His body shuddered as it passed, but he did not let go of her as he caught his breath. When she lifted her head to look at him, his head was tilted back and eyes closed as he recovered. She kissed his cheek, and he opened one eye to look at her, a smile blooming on his lips.

“You’ve ruined me,” he muttered.

“And you enjoyed every moment.”

“‘Enjoyed.’” He repeated. “Very light way to put it.”

“Then how would you describe it?”

“Hm,” he breathed. “Having trouble thinking currently. I will get back to you.”

“Now that’s a real accomplishment,” Tav laughed. “I’ve rendered Gale of Waterdeep utterly speechless.”

He laughed, one eye peeking open again before he playfully kissed her on the cheek. As she nestled back into his arms, she knew they would have to break away soon to clean up the mess they had made. But for just a moment she cherished the sound of his heartbeat, calming down and steadying with his breath.

“The first of a thousand nights.” He murmured.

“Hopefully more.”

“I’ll have the rest of your nights, if you’ll allow it.”

“They’re yours.”

Thank you for reading! 💜

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dragonmurray · 2 months

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Sexy time at cemetery gone wrong 😆

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dragonmurray · 2 months

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It Will Come Back

Astarion x F! Tav

(Girl Talk part 2)

18+ implied trauma, talks of death, drinking, possessiveness, feelings developing, vulnerability, blood drinking, sub/dom, gender play, grinding, strap on use, penetration (m!), prostate orgasm, tenderness

Their shared night has been tormenting him, after staking his claim he found himself needing to be near her. And after a night of drinking, seeing her with someone else, he had to have her again...

Part 1

He was mid wipe of his bloody mouth but was now frozen on the treeline, her voice shouting out into the night.

Though he knew the Underdark would have been much easier he was grateful that she had chosen the Mountain Pass. He already was able to find plentiful wildlife.

When Halsin had insisted that going underground was the better route he saw her body go rigid. Closing her eyes briefly. Taking a steadying breath out.

"I know the Underdark, its... lethal. We're taking the high ground." Her voice uncharacteristically stern. Tone clear, this was not a discussion.

Karlach had reached out to take her shoulder in a reassuring grip and pulled back at the last second, remembering her heat. A sadness in her eyes.

Now, in the darkness of camp she was bolted upright from her trance. "No!" Hand flying to her chest. Her shout breaking the air.

He stepped forward, uncertain.

But Karlach awoke, sitting up quickly. Coming to her side, kneeling next to her as close as possible without scorching.

"You're okay, love." She reassured. "Just a bad dream."

Tav looked up at her tearfully. Hand still pressed hard to her chest. Rubbing back and forth. "Oh Gods, they're starting again."

Shaking her head, looking deep in Karlach's eyes. As if the sight of her could erase whatever she woke from.

"I get those too, soldier. Some nightmares stick. Miserable things that they are." Reaching for her arm again, pulling away frustrated. "Gods I wish I could touch you."

Tav smiled, sitting up. Leaning towards her. "I want that too. We'll catch Dammon on the way, don't worry."

"You want to talk about your dream?" Karlach asked quietly.

"Not really, but it might help." She sighed.

He suddenly felt like he was intruding, staring down at them. Though he did want to console her he was hopeless at that kind of thing.

She froze for a second, turning her head.

"Ah, what did I tell you about trying to sneak up on me?" She smiled, catching him in her peripheral.

"Apologies, I was just coming back from hunting. I'll head back to my tent, but do carry on." He quipped. Chest tight.

"Actually, I dont mind you staying." She shrugged. "Believe it or not your company is very welcome."

He really considered it, but he had been avoiding her since that night and this was far too intimate.

"I appreciate that, but I'll have to decline. Do tell me if you need any hands on help though. Goodnight, sweet things."

His tent wasn't far and he was glad of it. Moving on light feet and closing the flap behind him. Sitting with his back against the entrance.

Their voices were faint but his keen ears were sharper. Their conversation picking back up after a moment.

"Gods I really thought they had gone away. But that fucking dream visitor..." The venom in her voice surprising him.

"It looked like her. My sister." Low now, he could barely pick it up. "Whatever that thing is it isnt afraid to play dirty."

"I didn't know you had a sister." Karlach's voice soft.

"A twin. We're identical." A tired sigh. "She's dead. Has been for, Gods, at least a decade. Even in my long life I dont know if it'll ever feel real."

"I'm so sorry, love." Karlach's voice low and mournful. Moving into a whisper.

He picked at the seam of his pants, suddenly feeling guilty. Given how self assured she was he hadn't even considered that she might have a troubled past. They all had their weight to bear, it seems.

Sitting still in the morning light he felt at peace. Or as close to peace as he could manage. The sun warming him through.

He soaked it in greedily, making up for 200 years of lost time. If he was a religious man he would pray to the morning god Lathandar, but the Gods weren't worth the praise.

"Morning, Star." She yawned, passing in front of his tent.

He squinted his eyes open, something he regretted immediately.

In the morning light her long red hair glowed, out of it's crown braid falling in cascades down her back. The grey ochre of her skin picking up hues of pink and a smattering of freckles he had never noticed before across her nose. Eyes dark and light in equal measure, the subtle ring of green in the white around her pupil contrasting sharply with her red hair.

She looked like an oil painting come to life.

Realizing he was staring he cast his eyes to the treeline.

Too late, she saw. Of course she did.

She smiled, coming to sit down next to him.

"Hungry?" She asked easily, holding up her wrist. Still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

He stared at it, the soft flesh, the vein blue underneath. Her long fingers curled back elegantly.

"Before you've had your breakfast? How ravenous do you take me for?"

"Oh my heart, I am such a wilted flower I couldnt possibly stand such trials! Oh watch me wither away before your very eyes!" She held the back of her hand to her forehead, leaning back dramatically.

He smiled, despite himself. "I thought you nobility types were of a softer constitution." Taking her wrist gingerly in his fingers.

"Maybe on the surface. In the Underdark its kill or be killed. If you haven't had an assassination against you by the time you learn to walk you're considered a failure." She laughed, but he wasnt sure if she was exaggerating.

"Well I am a little peckish..." He mused.

He wasn't. He had a full meal last night. But the draw of her blood, being offered so easily. Gods she would be the second death of him.

He brushed his lips against the curve of her wrist, breathing in her scent. Apple, cayenne, vanilla. Gods he could get drunk on it.

He sank in as gentle as he could. Her blood bursting into his mouth. Trying to keep some sense of decorum as their companions milled around them. Resisting the urge to grip down and growl.

Vaguely aware of Shadowheart's disapproving sigh. "In front of my oatmeal?"

"Oh please, I know you'd want this too if you were sanguine." Tav smiled, unfazed. Sending her a sultry look.

He glanced up momentarily, seeing Shadowheart's blush at her flirting. Shooting him a quick cut with her eyes. Turning abruptly back to her bowl.

He felt a proud thrill in his chest. That's right, he was the one buried in her wrist. Suck it Shadowheart.

Tav tapped his forearm twice. "Going a little numb here, handsome."

He pulled off with a quiet gasp. "Apologies, I must have been more hungry that I realized." Lies. Lies upon lies.

Handsome, he turned that word over in his head. He wanted her to call him pretty.

Blinked in shock at his thoughts.

Gods this is why he had been avoiding her. That night had been haunting him. He had tried to push the intense pleasure she had milked out of him into the past. The way she had touched him, soft but commanding.

Her words playing on repeat in his mind in the late hours of the night.

"Such a good girl for me."

"You okay, Star?" Her voice low, squeezing his knee lightly.

He realized he hadn't released her wrist, his fingers still circled around her.

"Sorry darling, I'm a little off this morning." He leaned down and licked her wound closed.

Noticed her hand hadn't left his knee, her thumb rubbing back and forth gently. The touch lighting him, little trails of fire.

"Anything I could do to help?" Her voice going soft again.

Yes.

"No, but thank you for offering, sweet thing."

He patted her thigh good naturedly. "Now go get your breakfast. You've earned it."

"Well as long as I've earned it." She winked at him, rising gracefully to her feet. "See you later, beautiful."

Gods he wanted to kiss her. Hard.

Later in camp the mood was jovial. The day, though grueling, walking, always walking. Had turned out promising, closing in on the temple where the Creche is supposed to be.

Someone had opened a bottle of wine and the air was full of laughter and conversation.

Halsin had gotten out his lute and was strumming happily. Wyll stood and offered her his hand in a flourish. She smiled and took it graciously.

He led her in a light waltz and she followed easily, feet twisting and stepping with a practiced grace.

Astarion watched this from a fallen log and tried to hide the seethe in his face.

Why were they always all over her? Gods it felt like he turned his back and another suitor had stepped into place.

Didnt they know she was his?

He shook his head. He had too much wine. He was being ridiculous. He needed air.

Trudging away towards the water, feeling eyes on his back but he didn't care.

Kneeling down he splashed the water on his face. Get ahold of yourself.

Sitting back on his haunches he sighed, looking up at the night sky.

Her eyes slid over his vision, becoming two new stars.

"Brooding all by yourself?"

He couldn't stand it anymore, pulling her head down by the nape of her neck. Her soft mouth meeting his upside down.

She whimpered in surprise, then relaxed into him. Kissing him back in that soft exploring way he had craved.

He twisted under her, turning to face her. Pulling her down into his lap, wrapping his hand around the back of her head with a growl.

She straddled over him, already pulling at his camp shirt, taking it in a fist full. Moaning softly into his mouth. Allowing his tongue to push hot into her.

"My tent?" She whispered as she pulled away to get a breath, his mouth following, trying to get more.

He nodded, practically sprinting to feet. Taking her hand.

They took the long way around, sneaking into the warm cave of her temporary home.

Gods the air swam with her here. It was overwhelming.

She closed the flap behind them securely. Barely enough time and he was pulling at her clothes. Releasing her shirt from her leggings.

"Gods, Star. What brought this on?" She gasped as he laved his tongue up her neck. Pulling her shirt over her head and throwing it far in the corner.

"I cant stop thinking about it." He moaned, undoing the ties on her trousers with one hand. Falling to knees and yanking them down.

Looking up at her through his lashes. "Please touch me like that again."

She smiled, kneeling down to him. Gloriously naked, she reached up to the pins in her hair and released it. Falling behind her shoulders in a carmine wave. So beautiful it made his chest hurt.

He caught sight of a straight scar over her heart, ran his fingers softly over it.

She leaned forward, fingers stroking his cheek softly. Sliding her mouth against his warmly. "I've been thinking about it too."

Pulling his shirt free, angling over his shoulders. "You were so beautiful that night."

He moaned into her mouth as she came back to him. Already painfully aroused.

She pushed him back gently, trailing hot kisses along his neck. Untying his leathers with sure fingers. Pulling them down just far enough that his cock could spring free. Already dripping precum.

She leaned into him, sliding the hollow of her hip against his length. Rocking back and forth slowly. Leg straddled around his thigh he could feel her wetness. Her mouth on his neck so softly kissing and biting.

The pressure of her hip was so good. His head fell back, giving her more room to find him. Her fingers coming up to softly drag along his nipple. The pads teasing back and forth.

She began grinding down on him, her breath catching. Hip sliding harder into his cock.

"Please, more." He moaned.

She leaned back and spat a long trail of saliva on his cock. Pushing into him with her hip again. Looking deep in his eyes.

Oh Gods that almost sent him over.

She pinched and rolled his nipple in her hand. Wetting her fingers obscenely. Bringing them back down.

He whined, arching his chest. Pushing his hips up into her. So close.

"You know, I think your ready." She purred, her hands gone.

He opened his eyes to see her reaching for something. Leaving him to reach inside a chest.

She held up a harness with a faux cock attached. His eyes went wide.

Oh Gods, yes. He pulled off his leathers with haste.

He helped her get it on her hips, pulling down the buckles and straps. She wet it with the slick from her cunt, pumping down it.

"Come here to me." She whispered, sliding onto her back.

He straddled over her, heart racing.

Coming down to kiss at her chest, sliding one of her peaks into his mouth. Reveled in the little moan that left her.

She held the length steady for him as he slowly lowered down. His eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Take what you need. I want to see it." She murmured into his hair.

Sitting flush to her he felt the stretch inside him. Already so full. His body gripping down eagerly.

He began his ride, lifting his hips and rolling back down. His breath a strained gasping already. Gods it was heaven.

He looked down at her and saw how her hips rocked into him, gripping his thighs. Her face flushed, eyes half lidded.

"So lovely, taking my cock like that." She smiled. Angling her hips just hard enough to hit the spot that undid him.

He lurched forward, bracing himself next to her head. An indignant whine leaving him. He cant be this close already.

She held his hips in place and fucked up into him. His body already starting to shudder in warning. She had found his prostate again and was slamming into it over and over.

"Please, please," He mewled, for what he wasn't sure. Seeing stars already.

She craned her neck up and caught his nipple in her mouth. Suckling down viciously with a delighted hum.

His while body jolted and he screwed his eyes shut. Oh Gods he didn't know if he could take it.

His pelvis contracted like a fist, the first waves hitting him. His mouth fell open in a silent scream. A bone deep shuddering ripping through him. The waves pummeling him in tortuous rapture. He white knuckled around her thigh. It was all he could do not to cry out. His spend spilling hot onto her belly in gushes.

She pulled him into her chest with hushed assurances as he sobbed quietly. A sudden rush of emotion overcoming him. Gripping onto the back of her neck.

"You're okay, you're okay." She whispered into the curl of his hair. Her legs crossing behind his back, nuzzling down into his shoulder. "You did so good."

That made him sob harder, burying his face in her hair. Holding onto her like a life raft in a storm.

"You're safe, you're here."

Laying awake, staring at the roof of his tent his mind raced.

He could lie to himself, say it was just the wine, the long road, his hunger, that had driven him to her arms.

He was a good liar but not that good.

Sighing he turned on his side.

What a fool he was. Falling for his mark. A simple plan shattered into a million pieces at her feet.

She had entranced him body and soul.

He bit back a small smile, his dead heart racing in light and fear.

Tomorrow. He would tell her tomorrow.

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dragonmurray · 3 months

Text

A Long Night

Summary: After Astarion and Tav have their first fight, Astarion is desperate to make up but can't fight his frustration. Set during Act 3, before the end of Astarion's personal quest.

word count: 1.5K

Link to AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x AFAB Reader

Warnings: 18+, Explicit. Vaginal Fingering. Biting. Blood drinking. Angst. Astarion is a bit possessive. Soft dom Astarion. Mild dub-con.

A/N: I meant to post something sweet about spawn!astarion but it's not ready yet...but this is :)

You and Astarion had had your first fight. It was about Cazador’s ritual, of course; the topic had been coming to a boiling point between the two of you. You can’t even really remember what all was said, only the outcome of the conversation: Astarion put his foot down and told you that he was going to take the power regardless of what you wanted. He said it was for the best, for both of you. Then, he stormed off, leaving you and the rest of your party standing in the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

Your embarrassment quickly reached your face, and you shooed your companions away, wanting to be alone for a while. But now, after a long walk, you finally arrive at the Elfsong Tavern.

You make your way to you and Astarion’s room and begin to take your armor off: unfortunately for you, you wore heavy armor. Even after so many months of adventuring, getting your armor off was a task you still struggled with, especially after a long day. It was bulky, difficult to take apart, and so heavy. It often leaves you frustrated to deal with alone.

Astarion helped you take it off every night. He would pretend to be frustrated or annoyed with the task, but was always certainly happy with the result: that armor protected his beloved from the hardest hits.

You have only unclasped the right arm when you hear the opening of a door and feel another pair of hands on you. You already know it’s him. You’re greatly relieved, because part of you was worried he’d run from you. Astarion could be rather avoidant; the armor surrounding his mind might just be as tough as what you wear on the physical battlefield.

Astarion begins to work your armor off, not saying a word as he does. You allow yourself to breathe deeply, taking in his scent as he helps you shed the weight of the day.

Once you’re free, you shiver, feeling a bit exposed. As Astarion begins to take off his own armor, you gather your things and slink away to the washroom. Although Astarion usually joins you in the bath, you figure he won’t follow, because surely he is still angry.

He wants power. He said he wanted it for the both of you. Forever. For good. You wonder what he meant by that. You certainly understood the implication, but Astarion is known to embellish.

But you had already made your decision: you couldn’t allow it. You couldn’t allow your beloved to enter into a contract with Mephistopheles. To sacrifice seven thousand souls - it was unconscionable.

As you ease into the warm water, the smell of lavender wafts from the newly disturbed surface. You and Astarion had been lucky enough to get a private room with a washroom attached; the room resembled a small bathhouse more so than a wooden tub, which you had been grateful for, because it made for a luxurious experience.

You allow yourself to fully relax as you slide yourself to the depths of the tub, bringing your head underwater. You close your eyes and listen to the sound of your own blood pumping through your veins for as long as you can stand it. After an impressive length of time, you think to yourself, you hear the creak of the door. You bring yourself up, gasping for air as you push your hair out of your face.

Astarion is there, and because you’re a little shocked from his presence, you can’t help but watch, unblinking as he begins to peel away his underclothes.

Your heart races at the sight of his nakedness; the flicker of the candlelight dances across his muscular form, making your core feel swollen and needy. A blush rises to your cheeks and the tip of your ears, prompting Astarion to give you a little smile.

His body was perfect��his alabaster skin, his muscled form, even the impressive length of his cock, which was already half hard, you could see.

Astarion eases himself in the bath, water rippling around his gorgeous form. “I don’t want to fight anymore, love,” his voice is even, his hungry eyes sweeping over your naked body, lingering at the buds of your breasts that peek out from the water's surface.

Treading water, he comes to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap bridal style. He holds your gaze for a long moment before resting his forehead on yours.

You knew this tender moment was both an apology and a declaration of his love; one you appreciated, but were weary to accept. You want Astarion to use his words - to say he is sorry, or to ask for an apology, or something. You just wanted him to communicate, but you are so scared to push him.

He tenderly brushes his full lips onto your own, and you try not to react. You don’t want to give in. As you try to formulate the right words in your head, Astarion moves to the curve of your neck, pressing his lips to your pulse point before he nips at you, breaking your skin with the prick of a fang. A small droplet of blood blossoms from the wound, and you pull away, giving Astarion an incredulous look.

He’s supposed to ask.

He releases one of his arms from you, his hand trailing down the front of your body, brushing a nipple with his thumb before nestling between your legs. Fingertips graze your sensitive folds, making you shiver despite the warmth of the water.

“Astarion,” You plead before he slips a finger inside you, teasing your lips with his thumb; your walls contract around his knuckles, drawing him in deeper.

His lips meet yours, his tongue finding entry as he tastes you.

You can feel the increasing hardness of cock against your ass as his finger stirs inside you. You feel the pressure of a second finger against your entrance for just a moment before he slides it inside you, filling you up a bit sooner than you’re ready.

A desperate whimper escapes your lips as he stretches your walls. Astarion pumps in and out of you, fucking you with his fingers, every thrust going deeper until he’s curling his fingers inside you, pressing on that spot that is so sweet, tender, and so deeply nestled inside you.

You’re feeling your build up, that delicious feeling of the anticipation of ecstasy; you already want to come. But you can’t ignore your need to check in on your lover: you break away from his dedicated kisses, surveying his handsome face.

“Astarion,” Your voice is higher than usual. You try to pull away from him, but his arm has you locked in. What he is doing with his fingers threatens you every second, and you know you are so close, but you continue to edge yourself, holding back the come that threatens to gush from your folds.

“Tav,” His voice is low and full-bodied. “You needn’t pull away from me, you know.”

“You -” You begin to say, but Astarion only digs his fingers in harder, deeper, your impending orgasm becoming almost impossible to ignore, emptying your brain.

Astarion’s face twists, the frustration apparent on his face. “I’m fine,” he growls against your skin. “Am I not allowed to take my lover when I want? Would you really deny me that, too?” Before you can respond, his lips are on you, tongue crashing into yours as he continues his ministrations on you.

The nip of his fang on your lip causes you to gasp, but Astarion is lapping and sucking at it, his own murmurs of pleasure causing you to buck your hips into his hand. You spasm and struggle in his grasp, but before long, you can’t take it anymore, and you feel the shockwaves of pleasure emanating from your cunt all the way to your fingertips. You’re creaming around his fingers; your body is hazy, almost numb with pleasure.

The pulsing sensation of your cunt around Astarion’s fingers drives him nearly mad, and his fervent kisses are all over you. The brush of his lips and tongue could be felt on your cheeks, your neck, your ears.

He begins to nibble at you, leaving shallow bites in the wake of his kisses on your neck and shoulders. He’s marking you where he can, even though you both know it’s only temporary: he would douse you in healing potions and gentle touches after this, caring for your every ache and pain.

“You’re starting to prune, darling,” Astarion’s voice is low. “Why don’t you get out of here and meet me in our room? And don’t bother to dress yourself, my love. You’re in for a long night,” The sound of his voice makes the hair on your skin stand up, goosebumps covering your body despite the ever warm water.

You know your cheeks are flushed from the way Astarion is looking at you. His eyes are hooded, seductive, and the smirk on his lips almost meets his eyes.

“Tonight, I’m going to fuck you however I want, Tav. I’m going to bite you wherever I want, whenever, until I decide I’m satisfied.” Astarion’s voice draws a whimper from your lips, and he lightly chuckles. “Go on now, darling. I’ll be right behind you.”

Masterlist

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dragonmurray · 3 months

Text

I mean, hear me out.

Astarion has issues with intimacy and sex.

So why not ride his clothed cock until he makes an absolute mess of himself, moaning about how badly he wishes he could be inside you?

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dragonmurray · 4 months

Text

Unraveled

Summary: It was all fun and games until Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering, godly refractory periods, kitchen sex, semi public sex, Loki in a sweater.

A/N: My explanation for this one is that I saw too many pictures of Tom Hiddleston in a sweater and it gave me thoughts.

Being an Avenger has made you pretty good at rolling with the punches. After your third or fourth encounter with some alien/wizard/android bullshit, your perspective is fundamentally altered and real life seems manageable in a way that it didn’t before. You have to call your insurance company to dispute a claim? Big deal, you’ve negotiated with terrorists; you can handle Garth from Member Services.

The thing is, having that kind of perspective means that the things that do get to you can rattle you a lot more than they should. Natasha had warned you about that, but you were riding high on the thrill of successfully conquering Blue Cross Blue Shield and you kind of got to thinking she was exaggerating.

And then the seasons started to turn and Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

You can recognize when someone is out of your league. When you first moved into the Tower, it had been relatively easy for you to assign Loki to that category: he was a god. He’d been featured in last month’s GQ. You were mortal and your most recent press had been a TMZ story featuring unflattering paparazzi photos of you leaving a bodega in your pajamas at seven o’clock in the morning, a bagel halfway into your mouth. You were clearly not the same.

Up until the sweater, you’d managed to keep your cool around Loki and keep your attraction confined to daydreams and the occasional surreptitious lustful glance. Hell, you’d even had the nerve to be proud of yourself for keeping your shit together in front of him.

The sweater lays waste to all of that.

On the surface, it doesn’t seem like a sweater that is capable of completely destroying your carefully constructed composure. It’s a fairly standard crew neck in a deep green so dark it almost looks black at a first glance. But on Loki it just…does things to you. The fabric is well fitted, clinging to his biceps, pulling taut across his chest, emphasizing the line of his pectorals. It somehow accentuates how muscular he is while also still making him look lean and lithe.

The first time he wears it, you find your eyes just trail to him of their own volition, like an incredibly horny moth to the flame. It’s a day of catching yourself staring, panicking, pretending that you were actually looking at something else, and then repeating the process five minutes later when your gaze inevitably wandered again. It almost would have been funny if it didn’t put your blood pressure into the stratosphere.

To make matters worse, at the end of that day’s debriefing, he rises from his chair and raises his arms to the ceiling in a long stretch. The hem of the sweater creeps up, exposing the firm, flat muscles of his stomach, lightly dusted with a trail of hair that meanders in a tantalizing path down to his belt buckle.

You promptly choke on your own spit. Clint claps you hard on the back and asks if you’re okay, which is a question you don’t know how to answer (ultimately, you stick to a thumbs up and mumble something about dust getting caught in your throat). Loki is too preoccupied complaining about the entire concept of office furniture to notice. Or at least you’re pretty sure he doesn’t notice.

You might have been okay if that had been the only incident, but the sweater makes a repeat appearance on Friday. The following Tuesday features the deadly combination of the sweater with a pair of tight, dark wash jeans that nearly send you into cardiac arrest. Your fantasies suddenly become much more frequent and detailed.

You are not really sure what to do about this—it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it, nor can you ask him to stop wearing it without prompting some very uncomfortable questions. The idea that you’ll get used to it is laughable.

You look at your calendar and note that spring is six months away. At least.

Fucking hell.

It’s a Saturday afternoon and in a strange quirk of scheduling, almost everyone is out of town for a mission or a personal obligation, leaving the Tower unusually quiet. As much as you enjoy the daily clatter and chaos that comes with living here, you find a lot of comfort in these moments of quiet, however infrequent they may be.

You intended to make yourself a late afternoon snack. That was the plan, anyway. But as you’re standing at the kitchen counter and cutting up the fruit you just washed, you realize that you’re not entirely alone. From this vantage point, you can see Loki lounging on the couch in the next room and reading.

He’s wearing the sweater. Of course he’s wearing the sweater. And the so-tight-they-should-be-illegal dark wash jeans.

Goddammit.

You have the sense to set the knife down at least. The last thing you need is a trip to the hospital because you got too distracted by your hot colleague while handling a knife.

You let your gaze travel along the firm muscles of his chest. It’s just a sweater. It shouldn’t look this good. It shouldn’t prompt these kinds of thoughts. And yet…

He shifts on the couch and the hem of the sweater creeps up. His hand drops to his belt buckle. It’s entirely appropriate, but the way his long, long fingers are splayed against his stomach makes your mind drop straight to the gutter and wonder what they’d look like wrapped around his rock hard co—

“You know, it’s rude to stare.”

His voice comes from behind you and adrenaline surges through you like an electric shock. The Loki on the couch looks up at you and smirks before disappearing in a shimmer of green.

You wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment and a heart attack all at the same time. It certainly feels like you’re about to.

You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself, which feels largely futile. Come on, get it together. You’ve negotiated with terrorists and insurance companies. Shake it off.

You slowly turn around, cheeks burning. Loki is standing right behind you, arms folded across his chest. You swallow.

“I um. I was—I was just…” Words escape you as your brain fires in every direction except a helpful one.

“You were just what?” His expression is intense, but you’re not sure that he’s angry.

“Spacing out,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence that you absolutely do not feel.

He places his hands on the counter behind you, intentionally caging you in with his body. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him—a masculine, wintery musk that makes you want to bury your face against his chest.

“Try again,” he says. His voice is deep enough to rattle your bones.

You swallow. Everything you could possibly say seems wildly inadequate.

Loki has never been one to be at a loss for words, though, and after a moment of terrified silence from you, he continues speaking.

“I’ve noticed something curious over these past few weeks,” he says. “When I wear this sweater, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”

Your heart is pounding. Fucking hell. Have you really been that obvious?

“Now why is that?” he asks, his voice a low purr.

You briefly consider trying to lie again, but the piercing green of his eyes instantly makes you rethink it. “I um…” You swallow hard. “It’s just…it suits you. You…you look good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I look good?”

You nod.

“Interesting.” His lips twitch in a slight smirk as he looks you up and down. “And how does that make you feel?”

Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach contorting with a strange combination of fear and desire. You’re still humiliated, but the sound of his voice and the dark intensity of his gaze is intoxicating and incredibly arousing.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Oh, I think you do.” There’s a rawness in his voice that makes your cunt clench.

You shake your head, eyes wide. You’re pretty sure he’s not really mad, but you also don't know where this is going. Surely he’s not making a pass at you…right?

“How does it make you feel to see me in this sweater?” he continues, his voice a low whisper. He pauses for a moment and when you don’t answer, he continues. “Does it…arouse you, perhaps?”

Holy fuck.

This can’t be happening.

You try to think of something clever or sexy, but the bluntness of the question and the fire in his eyes kills whatever remaining brain cells you have left. Mutely, you nod.

There’s that smirk again as he licks his lips. “Are you wet right now?”

Your cheeks burn. You give the tiniest nod possible.

“Hmm.” His hand alights on the button of your jeans. “I believe you Midgardians have a saying that is appropriate here: trust, but verify.” He slips the button free and your heart pounds like a war drum in your chest.

You cannot believe this is happening.

“You haven’t been entirely truthful in this conversation.” His palm presses flat against your stomach, the tips of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. “So I’m afraid I’m going to have to see for myself.”

His hand is achingly slow, creeping lower and lower. He watches you intently as his hand cups your sex, seemingly cataloging the way your breath hitches and all the little shivers that run through you.

His middle finger finally slides between your folds and you can’t help but moan.

“Oh, you did lie to me,” he growls, his index finger joining his middle, both sliding up to circle your clit. “You’re not wet, you’re soaked.”

Your legs are already starting to tremble and you grab on to his shoulders to try and steady yourself. The fabric of the sweater is softer than a cloud against your hands.

“Sopping wet,” he continues, trapping your right leg between his thighs and the counter, the heavy weight of his erection pressing eagerly against your hip. “And this is all for me?”

Wordlessly, you nod. There’s no point in denying it—and you don’t think he wants you to, either.

“What am I going to do about this?” he muses. His index and middle fingers lightly circle your clit again and you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he says. His tone is one of light curiosity, like you’re just chatting casually about the weather. “But if I continue, you’re almost certainly going to come.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please.”

“Oh, you want me to make you come?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Right here in the middle of the kitchen?”

You nod.

“Anyone could walk in, though,” he purrs. “Anyone could come in and see me with my fingers buried in your dripping cunt. What would they think if they saw you so utterly debauched and at my mercy, begging for me to make you come?”

“Don’t care…” you gasp. How are you already so close?

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care what they’d think if they saw us like this?”

You shake your head.

“Oh, you must be desperate.” He adjusts his hand, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit while his index finger sinks into your slick channel, making you gasp.

“Loki, please—”

“Begging already,” he says, not letting up in his rhythm. “Has it been a long time, sweetheart? When did you last feel this good?”

It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know that anyone ever has made you feel like this. You moan, your hips bucking hard against his hand.

“Poor thing,” he tuts. “You’re clearly desperate for it. What kinds of filthy thoughts have you had about me?” he purrs. “I’ve seen you staring, I’ve heard your breath hitch. Have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

You manage a nod and his smile turns feral. “When was the last time?”

“Last…last night,” you gasp.

“How many times did you come?”

“F-Four.”

“Filthy girl.” His free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tips your head back. “Next time, all you have to do is ask.”

His mouth covers yours, his tongue pushing past your lips as he slides a second finger into you. You moan into his mouth as the pressure in your hips increases.

“Oh yes, let me hear all of those pretty noises,” he murmurs. “Are you going to let me fuck you against the counter after I make you come?”

You nod, whimpering.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “I think you need to be fucked properly and hard. Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. This cunt is just too wet and needy for any other treatment.” He draws back to look at you more fully, giving you a lazy, hungry smile. “You’re about to lose it all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

Your orgasm is cresting, the tingling pressure in your hips becoming unbearable. You nod, lost for words.

With one more smirk, he curls his fingers inside of you. “Come for me, pretty girl, let me see you.”

Your cunt spasms around his thrusting fingers and your whole body shudders as your orgasm overtakes you, your head tipping back as you cry out.

“Oh, that’s it,” he murmurs, “there’s my good girl.”

A shiver runs through you at his words, your hips still moving against his hand, trying to draw out every last ripple of pleasure.

He kisses you as you come down from your high, and you take the opportunity to run your hands over his chest and tentatively feel the hard planes of muscle that you’ve been staring at these last few weeks. But after a few moments, he takes your hand and guides it to his cock.

His preference for leather pants or those sinfully tight dark wash jeans made you suspect that the size of his ego might actually be proportionate to the size of his cock and your initial assessment seems to confirm that theory. You rub your fingers over the denim that covers his thick shaft, feeling yourself grow even wetter at the low groan he makes in the back of his throat.

“Take my cock out.” His voice is so deep and his eyes are so smoldering, it feels like the command goes straight to your cunt. You are practically trembling with anticipation as your shaking hands make quick work of the button, buckle, and zipper.

You can’t help but suck in a breath when his cock comes into view. He’s long and deliciously thick—big enough to be a little intimidating, but not overwhelmingly so.

He guides your hand to wrap around his shaft. He barely fits in your hand. “Look at what you’ve done to me,” he says, his voice raspy as he guides your hand to stroke his cock. “Feel how hard I am for you, feel how much I want you.”

His cock practically pulses with need, the tip slick with pre-come and you grasp him more firmly, your cunt pulsing as he gives a deeply satisfying groan.

You stroke him from base to tip, squeezing lightly. He groans again. “They told me to stay away from you, you know,” he says.

You aren’t so far gone that you can let this information slip by. “What? Who?”

“Stark. Rogers. Romanoff. My brother.” He reaches behind you and shoves the fruit and cutting board into the side, the knife clattering into the sink. “They saw how I looked at you,” he says. “They saw that I wanted you. They told me you were too good for me. Too sweet.”

You feel your jeans and underwear melt away in a shimmer of green and he lifts you easily onto the counter.

His eyes flash with desire. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew you’d let me fuck you raw in the middle of the kitchen?”

For a brief moment, frustration almost wins out over your lust. “We could have done this sooner?”

His gaze turns serious. “Darling, we could have done this the moment we met, but I’m told a handshake is more appropriate.”

You take a breath, about to embark on a rant about the individuals he’d named and how they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed, but Loki puts a hand up against your mouth.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” he says. There’s a sincerity and a need in his gaze that you’ve never seen before and it’s enough to calm your anger for just a moment.

“Okay,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist and angling your hips toward his, “but clear your schedule because I’m gonna need you to fuck me a lot to make up for all that time.”

His grin is feral as he pushes into you.

You shiver at the blunt stretch of his cock, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. He indulges in a low groan as his hips press flush against yours.

“If I’d known they were keeping me from this tight cunt, I would’ve done something sooner,” he rasps. “You feel absolutely perfect.”

“Please,” you breathe, “I need—please.”

His hips snap hard against yours and you moan, your head tipping back.

His eyes glitter as he pulls you close, pressing his mouth against your ear. “The next time I have you, I will be sweet and soft.”

“And this time?” you ask, though you think you already know the answer.

“This time—” His mouth presses against the curve of your neck, teeth scraping just this side of too hard against the tender skin. “—I’m going to utterly ruin you.”

His pace is fast and rough—the word possessive comes to mind. You twist the luxurious fabric of his sweater in your hands as his cock hits that sweet, aching spot inside of you, pressing against your sensitive cunt in a way that makes your muscles spasm and clench around him. You moan, a shiver rolling through you as you inch closer to release.

“I’m…fuck, I’m getting close,” you gasp.

His pace abruptly slows and his grin is wide and his eyes are dancing with mirth when he raises his head from your shoulder.

“That was unnecessary,” you say with a scowl.

“Oh, I just want to savor you for a little longer, my love,” he purrs as he settles into an easy and slow pace that still makes your toes curl. “You’re going to take me right over the edge with you and I’ve waited so terribly long to have you.”

“I feel like you’re probably omitting the fact that you like being a tease,” you say.

He grins again, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Both things can be true.”

He does this a few times—taking up a wicked pace that almost sends you hurtling over the edge, only to slow at the last possible moment, silencing your whimpering protests with a deep and slow kiss that is good enough to make you forgive him until a few minutes later when he does it all over again.

You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, the ache in your hips overwhelms you.

“Loki,” you breathe when his pace again begins to increase. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he rasps, somehow finding the concentration to raise an eyebrow. “You’re quite sure?”

You nod.

“You want to come all over my cock?”

Speech is slightly beyond you at this point, but you manage to gasp a desperate plea as you hurtle into the final plateau, right before the fall.

Loki regards you with that same playful look as he fucks you. You wait, unsure of what he’s going to do, your body desperately crying out for your release.

His lips curl into a smile. “Come for me, sweet thing.”

At the sound of his voice, every one of your muscles is tensing and releasing, the slick walls of your cunt clamping down hard on the thick girth of his cock as you shudder and moan.

The remnants of Loki’s composure are fraying, his eyes closed and his jaw slack as he chases his own end. His brow furrows and he throws his head back, letting out a low groan as he comes and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.

You sag against him as you both come down from your respective highs, his heart beating hard under the soft fabric of his sweater. He reaches for your face, tilting your head back so he can kiss you, impossibly slow and soft.

You’re in the middle of the kitchen. You understand this. In a wholly rational world, you would be quick to hop off the counter, quick to try and negotiate the return of your jeans from whatever pocket dimension he’s sent them to.

Instead, you find yourself wanting to stay in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, his cock still pulsing inside you as he kisses you breathless.

You count to ten, then twenty. At forty, you draw back slightly, only to have him pull you back into the kiss.

It’s somewhere after one hundred when he trails his lips to your neck and you manage to say what you intended: “We should probably…” you trail off as he sucks at your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine.

“We should probably what?” he murmurs against your neck, before tracing a lazy figure eight with the tip of his tongue.

It takes you a moment to find that sentence. “Get dressed and such.”

You feel the sharp press of his smile against your skin. “I think not.”

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, the kitchen is fading in a shimmer of green to an unfamiliar bedroom and the two of you tumble into a bed draped in green silk.

“I’d like to stay like this for a while,” he says, a smile playing at his lips as he slowly rolls his hips against you, somehow still impossibly hard. “In fact, I think I need to have you again.”

“I can live with that,” you say. You tug at the fabric of his sweater. “But this is going to have to go.”

His gaze is smoldering and his bare skin is suddenly pressed against yours as the sweater and the rest of your clothes disappear in that familiar shimmer of green.

“Will you like me as much without it?” he asks, rolling his hips against you.

You drag your fingernails up along the firm muscles of his back. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, “because as I understand it, we have quite a lot of time to make up for.”

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dragonmurray · 5 months

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Heads Will Roll

Rating: R

Summary: Teasing Loki gives you what you want, but not what you bargained for.

Requested by: @lokislilkitten

You skipped down the halls in a giddy state, a smile on your face and determination to find your boyfriend Loki to ask your daily, repetitive question you tried so hard to get him to respond positively to.. at least, in your favor.

He was most likely in his “office” as you call it, always hustling about with papers or sending out orders of some sorts. You never were really allowed to be around when he was in his state of “barking” as you would tease. He never got mad at your teases or nicknames, and frankly it was your favorite thing to do to entertain yourself while you waited for his full attention. Without it, you usually read books in the rooms you were allowed into and not many people would talk to you to truly be called a friend.. not with straight answers anyway. Not that you needed to talk to them, everyone was strange anyway and Loki was all you needed..

As you neared the last door in the hall- your eyes having to adjust to the dark lighting, though random light flickering making It hard to do so- you gave a brief knock before poking your head in with your eyes lighting up.

Loki sat on the ground as he placed his scepter aside, taking a deep breath as he seemed to have calmed himself from whatever he had been doing, trickles of sweat shown on his forehead. He must have gotten frustration again so you quietly went over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, his shoulders instantly relaxing as your chin rested on top of his head.

‘’angry again?’’

‘’of some sorts.’’ He sighed as he closed his eyes, feeling you press yourself up against his back which didn’t exactly help himself relax.

‘’what happened?’’ you tried, knowing he never told you anything about his troublesome moments but figure you try helping regardless by letting him vent.. or feel like he had someone to vent to.

‘’we don’t ask questioned kitten, you know that’’ he gently warned and rested his hands against your arms, his thumbs rubbing against your smooth skin.

You tried. Same result whenever you tried asking anything personal of some sorts. But he always was fine in the end, so you didn’t push him as you moved yourself around sank to your knees so you could look at him properly, your hands resting against his cheeks as you offered him a reassuring smile and decided to change the subject to try to cheer him up. ‘’so.. I’ve been thinking..’’

‘’oh?’’

‘’how about we.. get some fresh air, get your mind off things- work, it’s healthy to take a break.’’ You offered and he rested his hands upon yours.

‘’you know there’s far much work to do-‘’

‘’even for just one night- a couple hours? I grow restless..’’ you sighed and your eyes wonder off.

‘’I suppose the activities I provide you aren’t enough?’’

‘’they’re repetitive, it’s nice for a change of pace sometimes..’’ you urge and bit your lip, deciding to beg in your own way the way you know how to get it- most of the time. you lean forward and begin kissing his neck, earning a low growl from his throat as you feel him tilt his head to give you more access as you proceed. ‘’just for a couple of hours.. you and me.. the others won’t talk to me no matter how much I try to make a friend so I need you more than ever..’’ you probably shouldn’t have teased him about talking to others, he was usually the jealous type and even now, as usual, his grip on you tightened ever so slightly so you quickly add, ‘’you’re all I need anyway..’’

‘’mmm’’ Loki thought as his hands dragged down your sides, pulling you to straddle him, his hands gripping your hips as you nipped at his skin. ‘’and what do I get in return for your request?’’ his voice is dangerous, almost his tone itself warned you about how he felt with you talking to others.

You smirk against his skin and pull back to look at him with big puppy eyes. ‘’the best night of your life?’’

Loki smirked, knowing each night was practically that with you but he enjoyed watching you try hard to change his stubborn mind. It practically made his cock twitch each time you did, even though you both knew who really was in charge.

‘’I’ll think about it love, now run along and I’ll see you soon.’’ He said gently and stood, picking you up with his grip on your ass before setting you down and turned you to the door before he could see you pout.

~~~

It wasn’t until the next day he had answered your request! With very few instructions, you scampered around your room and slipped on a tight, knee high black dress, heels and you thanked the gods you were having a good hair day.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, loving how he actually said yes to your request regardless of how busy you knew he was. It was finally happening after pretty much asking him every damn day to go out and have fun! He had asked you what particular thing you had in mind and you had told him you wished to go clubbing, drinks, dancing and all to help loosen you both up from these past few weeks of the hard work he has been doing.. whatever it was he was doing.

The knock at your door had you jump out of your thoughts and you stood just as the door had opened to see Loki standing there, handsome and sporting his all-black suit. Your eyes explored him just as much as his own dragged along your body in hunger and lust as he took a step forward.

‘’norns darling.. are you sure you wish to leave this bedroom tonight?’’ he teased as he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, making you blush and giggle as you joined his side for him to lead. Regardless of how long you’ve been together.. however long its been.. he never stopped being a gentleman.

‘’things can always be cut short out there if need be.’’ You smile and press your chest to his arm as he leads you out, his body stiff by the move and you could almost see him grow hard from the corner of your eye. Teasing him as made itself a hobby and most nights were usually cut short anyway.. because of you.

As you both pass down the halls, others would pass in a hurried pace- nothing new when it was Loki passing but you figured they just didn’t want to be around your PDA you tended to do when you were around your boyfriend. The holding hands, flirting and sexual teases tended to get out of hand by you and you almost forgot manners whenever you were around him. you couldn’t help it! you loved him just so damn much..

‘’we’re here darling’’ he beamed as he stopped by a door after passing several dark halls and you raised a brow in confusion. Weren’t you leaving the building? Take a car? Something?

‘’where-‘’

He opened the door to reveal a nightclub inside, as if it were something out of wonderland. Inside there was loud pop music, colorful lights and flashes, several people and couples on the dance floor, a bar and- everything! Your smile widened and you almost jumped in excitement, earning a chuckle as he led you in. his magic must have made the door into a portal or something..

‘’shall we dear,’’

‘’oh Loki- thank you! This is just what I needed’’ you half tease as you look around wondering what to do first as if you both were at a fair.

‘’how about a drink first love.’’ He offered and took your hand as he led you over to the bar. He was sure to make sure he navigated you both safety through the dancing crowd, his arm staying close to his body to keep you closer to him, especially whenever he passed by a man who wasted not a second to gaze upon you.

‘’I’ll trust your judgement’’ he chuckled, his body relaxing once you two were safely at the bar but he angled his chair so his body was more behind you than beside you- acting as a wall for unwanted eyes.

His protective acts never went unnoticed and your grip in his hand tightened briefly in an nonverbal thank you. Knowing you were more knowledgeable on Midgardian booze than he did, you decided on something both strong and fruity- the dangerous kind.

As you both indulge, your conversations took the same pattern. Half the time he wished to talk more about your life, memories and enjoyments.. as alcohol took more of control he even talked more on sexual topics. At the same time, you tried doing the same but he would only give vague past memories and his upbringing but his work or anything to current.. the conversation topic would be changed. You would mind it if you weren’t drinking or trying to relish in the new setting you finally got.

Its been so long since.. well, fun! That you couldn’t help but not pace yourself and soon you were feeling more of the effects of alcohol. Of course, this was a good confidence booster and you got up from your chair when a good song was being played in the back ground and slowly moved yourself towards the center of the room, your eyes rarely straying away from your lover.

Loki with amusement, raised a brow as you stood, his eyes showing a bit of how the booze was treating him but of course, a god would need more than that to really be loose and crazy as you. Dancing to the music, you moved slow and sexual and knowing fully well Loki was watching everything as your hands ran over your body and you bit your lip.

You swayed your hips and flipped your hair as the music played on, sending flirtatious looks over to Loki who gazed at you with a smirk but his eyes told you more. He was hungry, growing lustful and a danger entered the room as he stood and placed his drink down after downing it quickly.

Turning around to show off more of your ass, you pretended you didn’t know he was there until you felt his hands run along your hips and pulled you against him so you could see just how much your dancing was affecting him.

‘’do you have any idea what you do to me darling..’’ he purred in your ear, hearing him whisper even with the loud music in the air.

‘’hard to tell..’’ you tease with an innuendo as you grind on him as you danced, your back pressing against his chest and ass to his bulge as he followed the way your hips swayed by moving with you.

His fingers gripped your hips, running up and down your sides slowly as the dress material seemed a lot thinner than you remember. It was as if you could feel his body heat through his finger tips alone as he slapped your ass before spinning you around to hold your hips against him as you continue dancing.

The sudden movement made you squeak a bit, earning a following smile as you wrap your arms around his neck to gaze into his eyes.

‘’you are so beautiful.. so mine..’’ he whispered as he kissed your neck, earning a moan as you bit your lip and tilt your head to give him more access before he spins you around again.

You hide a pout by the lack of his lips before you feel his hands glide down and ghost under the bottom of your short dress. Your cheeks redden as your hands rest at his wrists, pushing them down with no progress against his gods strength so his fingers could ghost up your thigh, leaning forward so his chest was against your back and you were at a slight hunch position before you felt him smirk against your hair.

‘’I see you followed my instructions exactly pet.. no undergarments to be in my way..’’ he whispered and nibbled at your ear lobe as you tried to think straight through his advances and the alcohol hitting.

‘’yeah well I didn’t exactly know you were trying to get it on here- we just arrived didn’t we?’’ not really an answer to that question, you take a step forward to get a bit of distance so the night can get back on track but an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against him. you knew Loki didn’t necessarily like being denied, but it wasn’t a total rejection, you just wanted a more appropriate place-

‘’you wished for a change of pace darling, a moment to take your mind off of other things, I am merely doing that for the both of us’’ he smirked, your hands trying to pry his arm with no success.

‘’for one more than the other’’ you say a little to sarcastically as you feel his other hand glide down and lift your dress ever so slightly so his hand can cup your sex. This made you jump out of your skin as you glance around at the people dancing around you.

‘’Loki- not here!’’ you hiss as they continued dancing around you, no stares yet as your eyes darted everywhere and tried not to stumble as you tried squirming in your high heels.

Loki merely lifted you ever so slightly so you wouldn’t lose balance and also to help immobilize you as the pads of his finger tips began rubbing at your clit in slow small circles. ‘’why not? Isn’t it a normal Midgardian activity, especially in this type of facility where sexual needs and moods are heightened by the influence of alcohol and music?’’ he smirked as he felt you shutter as you tried to remain serious.

‘’maybe for perverts but most of the time decent people take their leave elsewhere-‘’ you scold as you tremble by the pleasure that begins to seep in while you try to grip his wrist.

‘’mm unless you have forgotten darling, I’m not decent. And considering everywhere else we fuck, I’d say this is the perfect change of pace for us both’’ he chuckled as his movements quickened, grinding his bulge against your ass at the same time to match his rhythm.

‘’L-Loki- there could be people staring..’’ you whine in defeat as your grip gives up on removing his.

‘’let them stare darling, they only wish they were us’’ he smirked as he dipped a finger into your cunt then, all the way to the knuckle slowly before he began a slow and teasing rhythm while his thumb still paid attention to your clit. This earned a moan from your lips, trying to focus and not focus as you bit your lip.

‘’Loki.. we need to sto-‘’ his hand removed itself from your waist and covered your mouth, keeping your head tilted up to the lights while it rest at his shoulder. Your hands flew up to try to uncover it while his other hand still worked between your thighs and you felt his chest sigh.

‘’always so needy darling, I’ve given what you’ve asked for now enough while I take what I always ask for’’ he growled, beginning to drag his lips against your neck and jaw while you closed your eyes so the lights above wouldn’t blind you.

The music almost seemed deafening now, a ringing in your ears as things moved in slow motion while he plunged into your sex with now a hurried pace, curling his two digits now while your clit continuously got caressed.

It wasn't until he thrust into you, you realized he had already removed his fingers and hadn't given you a second chance in thought at his switch. he held you close against him as he grinded himself into you, his thrusts not missing a beat as he hit all the right places. you tried not to enjoy it, to still be mad, but you'd be a liar if you said he wasn't good at this. he had you at his mercy, pounding into you all the way to his hilt and teasing you as he pulled out to the tip before ramming you again.

Perhaps this all would have been fun but not now, not here, not like this.. this wasn’t supposed happen, not here, and not with now people throwing blank stares where her eyes asked for help but their blue eyes seemed to just glow back at her.

Blue eyes.. all of them.. blue eyes.. just like-

Your eyes squeezed shut as your cunt clenched down on his fingers as your orgasm hit, digging your nails into his wrist and arm as he continued to pump for you to ride it out, cumming on his hand as held your breath. It all would have felt magical, and apart of you felt like you were floating, but reality had you blinking to clear your vision as your legs shook as he set you back down.

‘’good girl.. good girl darling, you shall always cum for me..’’ he whispered as he kissed at your jawline with his hand at your hip to help steady you, your cunt tingly as you felt his seidr clean you up. ‘’tell me,’’ he smirked and released you then, you stumbling a bit before turning around to face him with a deep breaths.

‘’what sort of monster would i become should you ever leave me..''

‘’what the hell is wrong with you?!’’ you snap in utter shock, your voice breathy as you recover from your pleasure.

‘’a lot of things darling, but all I do, I do for a reason.’’ He sighed and raised a hand, his scepter fading into his hand before the piece of tesseract glowed before he suddenly shot at a man beside you.

This caused you to yelp as you jumped out of the way just as the man fell to the ground. Dead. Your eyes widen as your began shaking, seeing the man not moving on the ground bleeding and you bring your eyes up to your former lover. ‘’..Loki..’’

‘’i have merely shown these mortals who you really belong to, who claims you.. who rules you. But at the same time darling, I cant exactly show your gorgeous body off to eyes of those who will live. It provides to much of a risk of them becoming jealous creatures and stealing you away from me. Now I do suggest that you duck for this next part,’’

And with that, he began blasting. You scream and cover your head as you drop to the floor, squeezing your eyes shut as he began blasting at those around him, to the crowd of people you had just shared a fun time of dancing with. How could he? Why would he? Surely this wasn’t the Loki who knew whom you loved and adored.. this wasn’t real!

And as soon as it began, it had finished. Once the last blast was shot, the music ended and all there was, was silence. Your eyes remained over your eyes as you took deep breaths to try to control your breathing while your body shook. Your stomach flipped as fear hit your chest having heard footsteps approach and stop before you.

‘’it is over darling, you may open your eyes now and get up.’’ Loki said, as sweet as if he hadn’t just slaughtered the entire night club.

Your body trembled as you prepared yourself for what you were about to see, peaking through your fingers yet to only see an almost empty nightclub with only five bodies.. lifeless bodies on the ground. ‘’why.. how are there..’’ you stutter, your eyes having a hard time not staring at even the five scattered and bleeding on the floor as you wonder where the rest of them were.

Loki chuckled and made his scepter vanish, as if to indicate his magic. ‘’I wasn’t going to just kill off all of my valuable men, work still needs to be done darling.’’ He smiled and took your hand so he could pull you to your feet, whether you wanted to or not.

‘’how could you-‘’

‘’the tesseract can do many wonders darling, as does my magic. I am to rule this world, and won’t waste precious resources all because my jealousy can get in the way. Once I am king, then if need be will I dispose of mortal men properly.’’ He explained, seeing no reason to hide anything now that you were figuring things out as you blinked, a headache splitting through your skull as you held your head.

Memories.. SHIELD.. the tesseract.. your life.. Loki.. oh gods- you weren’t suppose to be here! where were you?? What have you done?? You look at him with shocked eyes and your mouth tried to find worlds. ‘’what… what have you done.. to them.. to me.. you shot Fury-‘’ you cry and he took a step towards you with seriousness in his eyes that made you immediately shut up as if he were to harm you.

He slowly stepped closer to you, reaching for your chin and gently tilting it up so he could see your glorious eyes again that had resumed its natural color rather than its unnatural blue. "There they are." He sighed, taking in their brilliant hue. "If only I could see this realm through your eyes, I'm sure I would bend over backwards for it. yet for the greater good, sacrifices must be made to achieve that.’’ He said softly and felt you shaking as teared welled up in your eyes.

‘’I do not understand why you tremble with fear when i touch you. have you thought that beneath my caresses lies some sinister motive or intent? How I feel about you has never changed Y/N, I will always love you and until you see my.. vision, you are just going to have to trust me.’’

‘’what are you-‘’

He cut you off with his palm pressing to your forehead and everything went black.

Blinking your beautiful blue eyes open, you yawn away the sleep as you stretch out in the bed, finding it empty as usual but you didn’t mind. You knew Loki was hard at work with his business.. whatever business that may be and you pull back the covers to get ready for the day.

You were in a good mood so hopefully you were sure Loki would answer positively to your request this time as you practically skip down the halls once your ready. Most of the people in uniform looking outfits ignored you or hurried along but that was okay, the only one you looked forward to seeing,

Was Loki.

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dragonmurray · 5 months

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dragonmurray · 5 months

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Poisoned Truth

Loki x female reader

Triggers - smut, 18+, mild angst

Description - hydra had poisoned the team with a love drug. What will you do when you’re the only one without a lover?

————

You were screwed. No two ways about it. Death was coming for you. The irony in that phrase.

A simple mission with the Avengers turned out to be a trap set by Hydra. Tony, Nat, Clint and you headed over to a warehouse thinking you would be collecting some valuable intel on the latest leader to step up in Hydra. It was too late when Tony detected the gas in the building, you were all infected.

The flight back in the jet was spent scanning, researching, testing everything possible to work out what they had poisoned you with, but 5 minutes in to the flight you were starting to realise.

Tony was desperate to get to Pepper, Nat to Bruce, and Clint to his wife. Desperate with need. Overwhelming, soul crushing need. From the little Tony could gather the Hydra drug would drive them to madness, boil them from the inside out unless they found their completion with the one they love.

Hydra were placing their bets on no Avenger being able to find true love. They would lose that bet, for the most part.

You however? Agent y/n l/n? You had no such love. Not that anyone knew anyway. You made it back to the tower, the others running to their loved ones for some life saving alone time. You slowly stumbled back to your room, a thin veil of sweat starting to cover your body. Alone.

You closed the door to your room and sank down to the floor. A weird kind of acceptance seeping in to your brain. So this is how it would end. Thwarted by the one enemy you could never defeat, love and orgasms. How poetic. You weren’t a virgin, you’d had your share of partners, but every one a disappointment. No man had ever taken the time to learn your body, to relish in your pleasure instead of their own. You’d never known pleasure from another.

An ache in your core starter and your mind drifted to the man you had dared to hope would have changed that. A secret hope he could never know of. He, a God, could never lower himself to the standards of a mortal. Sure you spent most of your free time together. Reading, playing tricks on each other to pass the time. You were one of the few to get him to open up and on some occasions, laugh. But he was also quick to tell you of his lineage, his power, his birthright.

You were just y/n. A basic mortal with some killer fighting skills. Nothing more.

A knock on your door had you jumping and groaning at the same time as the heat flared in your body.

“Agent?” Loki called “agent you need to let me in”

“Go away Loki, you can’t be near me. You can’t see this. It’s fine just go” you replied. Keeping your voice as flat as possible in the hope he wouldn’t care enough to stay.

“We both know that’s not true. I’ve seen, and heard the other return. I know something is very wrong now let me in” Loki sounded aggravated. So he wanted to know what happened, good for him, he can read about it later you thought.

Shivers were starting to run down your spine. His proximity not helping your situation. You may not be ready to admit your feelings for the god, but clearly your body knew. It was getting harder to form coherent thoughts so you didn’t bother to respond to him. Resting your head back on the door you closed your eyes as pain started to deep in to your limbs.

“Agent!” An urgent voice right in front of you. You open your eyes to see Loki knelt in front of you, his eyes taking in the sight of you. Dazed, hot, your breathing increased.

“How, how are you here Loki?” Tony restricted his magic in the compound while he earned his place in society.

“My dear y/n. If you think there is anywhere in the nine realms I couldn’t reach to get to you, you are so very mistaken” he reached a hand forward to cup your face.

“NO!” You shot up and tried to back across your room, anywhere to get some distance from him. His proximity was sending your body into overdrive. Your mind couldn’t comprehend his words. Was this the drug? Making you see and hear things? “Loki you can’t be here. The mission went wrong. Hydra, drugged us. It’s bad. I can’t… you can’t…” your eyes fluttered and your legs faltered as a wave of heat came from your core.

In a second Loki was beside you, catching you as you fell. You cried out as his body made contact with yours. Part pain, part desperate need. Loki couldn’t wait any longer, his palm touched your forehead and he dove in to your memories. A sigh escaped him as he realised why you were trying to escape him.

“Y/n, I am here. You have nothing to fear. It would be my honour to stay with you, foolish mortal” a smile tugged his lips “I will not stop until you are cured, and I can’t guarantee I will after that either”

Your eyes fluttered open as you tried to take in his words. “I…” that was all he allowed before his lips crashed in to yours. I’m an instant heat burned through you with the power of a thousand suns. No pain, just need and fulfilment. This is what you needed. He is what you needed.

A moan escaped your lips as fingers caress your scalp, tugging your head to align you more perfectly with his mouth. His sinful, achingly beautiful mouth. You could come apart right now. A tiny voice in the back of your barely functioning mind started to whisper dark thoughts, telling you this wouldn’t work. No one else has managed to pleasure you fully, you’re broken.

Loki couldn’t sense your hesitation. He needed to silence it. After months of yearning, never daring to risk their treasured friendship, he finally had you. Upon seeing the state of the other avengers on their return he knew he had to find you. He couldn’t lose you.

His mouth left yours and blazed a trail down your neck, stopping to nip and suck at your pulse point, pulling a ragged moan from your throat and silencing all voices in your head. Your fingers dove in to his hair and pulled him closer. Still half collapsed in to each other on the floor he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and ground in to him as moans spilled from your lips. Loki intended to lay you on the bed but it was too much for him. He slammed you in to the wall, teeth latching on to your neck as his hand found your hardened nipple beneath your suit and rolled it between his thumb and finger.

You cried out, core tightening as you felt yourself close to cumming already. Gods how you wanted him, needed him. You had never felt like this before. He groaned as his hips rocked in to you. “Gods y/n, you feel perfect against me. I need to touch every part of you, taste all of you” with a wave of his hand your clothes melted from your body. “Perfection” he said as he looked down at you, still wrapped round his waist. Your head back and eyes closed in pure bliss. The pink tint to your skin brought him back to reality, he needed to save you.

His hands gripped you tightly as he spun round and placed you on the edge of the bed. With no time to think about your new position he dove between your thighs, mouth latching on to your clit and sucking hard. The force of it slammed in to your nerves and had you screaming out, back arched in pure pleasure. You had never felt anything close to this before, even from your own hands. His attack on your clit didn’t let up as he slid 2 fingers into your pussy, curling to find your spot and pumping relentlessly. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breath, not enough air in your lungs to even scream out as an orgasm ripped through your body with enough force to bend your backwards.

When you finally came down you gasped for air. Your foggy brain trying to work out what happened, how it happened. Blinking back to reality you looked down at Loki still sat between your legs looking at you with awe in his eyes.

“How… how did you do that? Is it the drug?” You asked.

He looked at you confused. “I’m unsure what you mean Y/n. Has no one done this to you before?”.

You shook your head. “Not like that, no one’s ever made me cum Loki” you looked away and started to try to cover yourself from embarrassment. He took your hands to stop you. As he did another wave of heat started to build, the drug wasn’t done with you yet. You whimpered and Loki realised your pain.

“Mortal men cannot comprehend the goddess that you are Agent. It seems you have been waiting for me for far too long…”. He climbed up your body, his hand sliding into your hair and…..

And I’m a really mean writer! Do I carry on?!

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dragonmurray · 5 months

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For you. For all of us.

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dragonmurray · 5 months

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I have a big request!!!!!!!!

It's just that y/n lost her parents at an early age and lives with her uncle, Tony Stark. She is like him smart and sarcastic. When, Loki came to stay at the Stark Tower as an Avenger both of them starting off the wrong foot. Slowly, they became friends and had feelings for eachother which they didn't confessed. Peter being the bff of y/n sets both of them up with a lil bit of smut at end??

P.S: In my thoughts, y/n and Peter are of same age, both are 21. Also, I am very sorry for a lengthy ask.

Seven PM Sharp (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: A sudden dinner "for the Avengers" changes everything about the relationship between you and a certain mischievous god...

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: SMUT AT THE END! (public sex, restraints, spanking, possessiveness kink, bit of dom! Loki, doggy style, on the rougher end), loss of parents (YN is adopted by Tony) and Loki accidentally being a jerk and being a jealous whore too. Grammar and spelling mistakes.

Dick-tionary (thanks @muddyorbsblr for the term): Smut starts at "At once you got on his lap, straddling him." and ends at "His magic got rid of the embarrassing mess.."

A/N:Hello there nonny! Sorry this took such a while! My life went wild and my monkey brain got distracted by other projects. But here it is! I really wanted to get this done for you. Went overboard with the smut, but blame my Demon Thirsty Whore Brain with the images of Behind the Scenes of Loki that popped out. Oops. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner @littlespaceyelf @superficialdomina @muddyorbsblr

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

“Your uncle is a useless fool,” Loki snarled at you as he walked around.

What. The. Actual. Fuck you thought. You had never met this guy before- you met gods. Like Thor- sweetheart he was. This, his brother… was a different case. You knew your uncle was an Avenger- and you’d be circled about them but this…this took the cake.

You gasped, folding your arms. No- Loki was under watch since causing trouble possessed by the mind stone. He wasn’t going to…use his powers to turn you into a pile of dust or whatever. And you were not going to have Uncle Tony’s name slandered, not when he loved you, took care of you, and did so much for you.

“That’s the first thing you’re ever going to say to me? You don’t even know my name!” you huffed back. You tried to square him up though he was tall and broad.

“I do not bother with names of mere mortals. Midgardians are the least interesting to me,” he said.

“Whatever. Just stay away from me- and don’t shit talk my uncle or his inventions.”

“I will speak how I wish.”

“Listen - I know you don’t give a shit but my name is YN Stark. I’m not some nameless figure you can push around. I wasn’t always a Stark- -why? Why?!”

You got up to his face, his eyes still unperturbed.

“I had nothing! I came from nothing at all! My family fucking died! Everyone runs back to their family every Christmas and Birthday and holiday- but me? None! I had to be alone, scraping for myself! No one around me-no one to keep me safe! No one to even love me! I had nothing until Uncle Tony came in…” there were tears in your eyes.

You took a breath and continued, Loki’s face was frozen, but he still listened.

“I don’t give a shit if he was the CEO of Stark Enterprises or the janitor- he welcomed me to his home. He’s like a dad to me- the only one I got left. So you can keep talking your shit- just not to me!” you cried.

You hurried out before he could make a reply.

You couldn’t help but hold onto your grudge. Every time he appeared, you turned away. Ignoring him. Giving him the cold shoulder. Ignoring him in the rudest, snobbiest way. He deserved it. No wonder if his baritone voice you could never stop listening to. Your ears perking over whenever he spoke like a cat. But your eyes forward.

There were a few times he would lock eyes with you. And then he would smirk. You would huff and turn right away.

“Ugh…asshole,” you muttered. Stupid, beautiful asshole with a great ass.

It continued perhaps for a couple of weeks. Then…one day he caught you alone. You tried to, wanted to, everything urged in you to back off…but your feet stayed put.

“Hello there I…I have…thought about what you said and…”

“And what? Plan to throw my uncle off a building? Again?” you asked.

“No I…I’m sorry. For what I said,” he replied.

You paused. Looking at him.

“Oh…okay…what made you change your mind?” you asked. You folded your arms.

“You see- I am adopted too.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

With a slight whiff of magic, briefly, his appearance changed. His skin was blue and his eyes red. You dropped your jaw.

“Turns out, I’m a Frost Giant. Or…part Frost Giant at least. I was just a baby- found abandoned in the snow. Then adopted and brought to Asgard to be raised under the name of Odinson and not Laufeyson.

“Why…what?! Oh…oh god, when did you find out?”

“The hard way.”

“That…that does sound miserable…I’m sorry for being harsh.”

“Don’t be.”

You began to talk more. About the birth family you lost forever, wondered about. Each time it happened, you learned more about each other. He learned some about Tony and you- like what flavor of cake your uncle would try to make on your birthday. He would tell you about turning into a snake as a child to trick Thor.

Uncle Tony would keep a careful eye on him. He gave you a few warnings, and you promised him to tread with caution.

So you trod with caution for months. Then a year.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

“My brother is dangerous and impulsive- he endangered his kingdom. Why would you even agree to go with him on a date?” Loki cried.

You just got back to the compound. He looked down at your clothes- causal plaid and jeans. Probably not first-date wear. The place wasn’t a fancy restaurant- just a bar and grill.

“It wasn’t a date! We were hanging out! It was just out to a restaurant to enjoy happy hour and eat mozzarella sticks! He needed his own tray of them as he was wolfing them down like candy!” you explained.

“He will try and charm you! But you know his type and what they do! That’s what he is- he gets everything he wants on a silver platter. And when you tell him no, he’ll…he’ll…”

“What Silvertongue? What will he do?” you asked.

Loki huffed, then began to pace away.

“Nothing happened. He just wanted company. A friend. Thor keeps talking about how much he misses this woman named Jane. He’s too madly in love with her. You can practically see the heart eyes on him every time she’s brought up!”

Loki paused. How beautiful he looked. The shine of the moon radiates from the window. Making his ivory skin have a silver glow. His eyes soft. He took a large but graceful hand and ruffled it through his own curls.

“I’m. Not. Dating him. And how could I take Jane’s man away from her? It’s like when me and Peter go see movies- or when you or I go see movies! It’s fine!”

“Alright. I was just…just worried, was all. I wanted you safe.”

“You thought I would be unsafe with Thor? Thor’s just a big teddy bear!”

“When you date I just…I just want you protected…” he said.

“You know…thank you. It is scary to be on a date. Things have happened. To women on dates. But…I’m an adult. You can worry about me some. But I can take care of myself too,” you replied.

“Yes…yes you can,” Loki agreed.

With that, he vanished away in a sliver of magic.

“Absolutely not” was your response.

“Come on, YN! It will be fun!” Peter replied, nudging close to you. He sat next to you on the couch. The TV show you were both watching droned on.

“Fun?!? Fun!?! What about going to a fancy dinner with the Avengers sounds fun! Besides- what if I use the wrong fork or knock something over? I know these events, but this…this is something else,” you replied.

“Please, YN! You are invited too!” Peter insisted.

“Well…I may have to go shopping for the right dress,” you sighed. Peter grinned at you.

“Don’t worry- all the men will be in suits. And your Uncles paying for everything.”

“He always paid everything for me,” you replied. “Okay, you know….fine, I’ll go.”

“Awesome!” Peter cried, high-fiving you.

You watched a few more minutes and then Peter excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Little did you know, that Thor knocked on the door to Loki’s room several floors down in the compound. The god of mischief opened and cocked a dark eyebrow.

“Brother! There is going to be a dinner and you must come! It shall be at a tavern- but it is like a palace! Very exquisite! You must come!” he invited, waving a hand.

Loki smirked, folding his arms

“Finally! For all the world saving none of the Avengers truly know the finer things in life. I would like to eat something that isn’t frozen and from a bag. ” he replied.

Thor folded his hands.

“I knew you would like it! And everyone is dressing up! We all know your style!”

“These so-called sweatpants they all wear all the time become old and reek of their personal smells. Do they even know of any basics of dressing? Fine then- reserve me a spot. You know I have plenty to wear. No one will dare call me the sloppy one of us both,” he continued.

Thor nodded his head. His lips smiling but tight. Then Loki used his magic to close the door and he returned to reading his book.

As Thor and Peter passed in the halls, they exchanged nods and high-fives.

You arrived in a dress- it had a slight dip to it but had a flowy skirt that went to your knees and a heart-shaped neckline with a pearl necklace. You had them take your coats and go to the table.

It was odd- you didn’t see anyone here. Not Wanda. Steve. Nat. Uncle Tony. Thor. Peter. Clint. Not even Bruce discussing something science-y with whoever sat next to him.

You approached the hostess.

“Hello- I am here for the table marked for The Avengers,” you said.

She nodded and led you to a table. It was notably small. Only three other chairs.

Perhaps it was a more intimate event. Just you and Peter and Uncle Tony and maybe someone else- maybe Thor.

No one was there. You sat there alone, placing the cloth napkin on your lap. Fidgeting nervously and staring at where everyone sat. Not one recognizable face among the soft chatter and sound of wines being poured.

Loki arrived wearing one of his nicer suits and a long coat. His hair was washed today (his brother talked him into it). He looked at the restaurant. He was correct- It was the Le Sait. The street was the correct one. Walking with a swagger, he went up the steps inside the restaurant with its bright yellow glow inside.

“Hello there my dear- the table for the Avengers, please,” he crooned out.

The hostess led him over to the table…

The person who showed up was Loki.

It struck you. You were in nice clothes. In a nice restaurant. Alone was Loki.

You both stood up. You felt so hot you could have burned or melted your own self into a puddle. Loki’s eyes went down to your neckline and then politely back up.

“You!” you gasped out.

“You!” he repeated with a slight jump.

Then you both relaxed and burst into laughter.

“Why Loki! It’s you!”

“Yes, it is! Well…”

“Come on…sit down…let’s just eat some dinner, I’m starved….”

“Yes, I agree…”

It then hit you-no one else showed up.

“Where is everyone?”

“I’m not sure but…let’s just…just enjoy it. Enjoy the place and being together.”

You both laughed and talked so much you didn’t realize it was nearly empty. Only you guys here. Recalling every memory you had. First happy ones, the ones that could make one laugh so hard your stomach hurt. Then…about the day you met.

“I said those offensive things back then. Because the truth was I was the fool…do you forgive me?”

“I already have.”

“I need to know every day. It always is my greatest shame. What keeps me awake at night. I said those things back then because I didn’t know you. In a way, I wanted to prove myself. Make myself big, strong-I kept getting into those habits. Tried to scoff at Stark to feel better about myself…But then you spoke. You challenged me. I never heard of him doing that- of taking you in. And it wasn’t to tear me down or to make me less. But to challenge me to be better, do better. And the way you fought back instead of lying there…it impressed me.”

It was quiet now, still. People had left. It seemed not even the waiters were around. But you didn’t mind.

“With you, I feel less alone. I feel seen. I’m not perfect. It’s odd for a god, but I have…I have so many faults. Yet you see me and choose me anyway. And with you…I want to try to improve those faults,” Loki replied.

Your eyes brimmed with tears.

“I love you too. It’s so weird- you can’t leave my mind. I miss you. I want you. I want to be with you, I want to choose to love you…”

“My dear, we can be better. Grow to do better..together.”

“Oh, fuck it!” you cried.

You grabbed and kissed him. You could feel it already- his mere touch driving you crazy. You wanted nothing more than him on you, in you.

“Oh, I can tell, my dear…” he smirked, his voice half a laugh.

His hand lifted up. Green magic sparked from his hand and then went around you. A clear shield.

“No one will see us, hear us. We are silent and invisible, my pet.”

At once you got on his lap, straddling him. Just piling on the kisses, his scent- him. Your lips crashed onto his. A hand reached up, and raked through his curls. He washed them today- and how beautiful, how soft they felt to you. Well…there was one thing you felt that was definitely not soft. And you felt it already poking at you, right at the lace underwear you wore for tonight.

“Oh…oh gods….” You moaned. The shudder escaping you. He carefully moved his hips closer.

He held you tight. Already your hips lining, an electricity shooting through you both. You let out another whimper.

“Ah, if that is the effect a mere brush of my clothes has on you…then you must be ready when my bare flesh touches yours,” he whispered.

He then sucked onto a part of your neck and you sighed into it. Loving it-loving him. You reached up.

Your fingers were too greedy, you went to his tie. You gently undid it. Then it was just an impractical thing dangling from his neck like a scarf with his undone shirt.

“Holy shit, that’s hot,” you confessed. You moved in another sloppy kiss.

“I see…my little dove is eager, greedy…and who am I to keep her waiting too much…” he replied.

He held onto you. Then at once, used his magic to make the plates and food and glasses vanish. He shoved you onto the table. You began to kiss on him. Holding onto him tight, and grinding as you did.

“Please…I need you…”

“Oh…still more…then…then beg…” he asked. “You will have to want my touch rather than placing your pretty hands all over me.”

With a bit more magic, his undone tie was over your wrists.

“Yes…yes please…Loki…I need you…I need you inside me…here, now- fast. Rough.”

“Hmm, what was that last bit?” he asked quietly.

“I just want you to take me- take me in the filthiest way possible on this table, here.”

He chuckled. Then easily flipped you over onto your stomach. He lifted your skirt. You heard him tsk at the sight of your lace underwear on display. Already dripping wet from the inside, but flattering your ass.

“First…you must learn a lesson…you scared me quite a bit there, going with that fool of a brother I have…but now you are mine…but you will learn a lesson.”

He undid your underwear and let it fall. Then he reached for a hand and spanked it. You let out a yelp.

“Tell me I’m yours with every spank. Then thank me.”

“I’m yours. Thank you.”

He spanked you again, and he let out a cry. The momentum makes you move.

“Hmmm…what was that?” he asked.

“I’m yours! Thank you!”

He spanked you a third time, you let out another sound- then it melted to your voice.

“I’m yours, thank you.”

Then a fourth time. You could already feel the impact, the sting on your flesh. How since his hands were so large, it could cover so much of your ass.

“I’m yours-thank you!”

“One more time- I didn’t quite hear that.”

He spanked another time and you cried out.

“I’m yours! Thank you!”

You still felt your necklace almost to your mouth. Your arms were a little tight from being held together. But gods, this was the hottest thing you had ever experienced.

“Yes…are you ready, my little mortal. Can you handle all of a god?”

“Yes…yes please-please…”

His hands wandered to your legs, his breath catching. Letting you spread wide. Finally, you felt him inside you, getting inside with each inch.

“Oh- oh-oh!” you were crying.

“You will be a good girl, and take all of it. You wanted a god, and now you have him,” he demanded.

He let out a slow thrust.

“Yes! Yes, I can!”

“And you will keep saying thank you.”

He thrust again. Grunting with each one. The table shaking. The pure lewdness of it all overwhelms you.

“Yes-Yes-Yes, oh gods- thank you- thank you so much!”

You could feel how he reached over the skirt. His own sounds. The little noises he was making, his breath right over the back of your neck. His breathy repetitions of your name. Then you felt the bonds disappear- he pulled you up to him.

“Hold onto the table, dove. It’s going to be rougher-”

You grabbed onto it for dear life. Then let out a cry as he got into you. He pounded into you with such a dury the wood shook, you gripped on. IT was so painful, so pleasurable.

“Oh- oh my god- yes-yes-please-oh-thank you, yes thank you- thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou-”

“My-my dear I- gods, the sight of you- nrgh-bent over for me- such-such loyalty-to-to-to your god and-fuck-I’ll be-be loyal back-”

He reached a hand in as he pounded and found your clit.

“Now darling- yes-yes cum-that’s your reward-norns-norns I’m close-come on-just cum, over it all-scream so loud-test the shield-yes-come one-hel, I’ can’t I’m about to-I’m about-”

You came with a cry, it broke on you so intensely. The release you couldn’t fight anymore. It spun up and out, and then the relaxation of its flight washed down your system.

Then it became all smaller, quieter cries. “Ah..ah…ah…” you were whimpering with what voice you had after that. You were panting as was he.

His magic got rid of the embarrassing mess that some poor employee of the restaurant would have to clean up. It smelled and felt normal. No one would suspect a thing… except for how you both held hands leaving the place. A blush on Loki’s cheeks as his tie was still left undone for you.

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dragonmurray · 5 months

Text

♱ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔 ♱

priest eddie munson x nun reader

summary: after a life of chaos and sin, eddie finds comfort in the one thing he never thought he would, religion. But what happens once he gives his life to god and swears off all of his old vices before finding the one person that makes him question whether it was worth it.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, fem reader, no use of y/n, use of pet names, religious themes, slight religious trauma, reader was forced to become a nun, mentions of drugs, fingering, unprotected p in v, slight lil daddy kink, cream pie, fluffff, overuse of italics but what else is new? Pls do not read if any of the above sounds offensive to you, you are in control of your own media consumption.

authors note: just a little something to feed my priest eddie brainrot, hope you like! A special thank you to my beautiful beta’s @take-everything-you-can , @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @corrodedcorpses <3

wc: 3.7k

The first time Eddie had ever seen you, he thought it was a fluke. Of course he’d see the most beautiful girl, after he had taken a vow of chastity and was in the works to become a priest.

It felt as though God was taunting him for all of the sinning he had done as a teen and young adult. Dangling something he could now never have, right in front of his face. Oh, cruel world.

He should be used to this, the feelings of disappointment and utter longing. For most of high school and some time after, he was used. Used for the things he had that people wanted: sex, drugs, and the few rare instances girls dated him just to piss off their parents. But never has he been wanted, adored unconditionally. After living a life like that, filled with drug binges and meaningless sex, giving his life to God seemed like a no brainer, at the time.

Eddie was impulsive however and the things that felt clear as day in the moment, seemed to blur over time.

What Eddie didn’t know was that you had already planned your escape route. You had grudgingly been pressured by your late father to join the “family business”. He had become a priest when you were five and since then he’s had your life mapped out for you; become a nun, work in the monastery and give your life and soul to God until it was your time to eventually meet him.

That was not the life you wanted for yourself. You wanted to fall in love and get married, have children and move far away from this town that has brought you nothing but shame and guilt.

“Excuse me, uh I believe this belongs to you.” A voice echoes through the empty chapel, making your shoulders jolt at the startling interruption of your most sacred thoughts. Your veiless head snaps towards the voice in fear, as you were not to be in the church without your veil, it was a symbol of modesty that your convent took very seriously.

What you found was not an angry priest, deacon or catechist but a student priest. His kind eyes and gentle smile, long brown locks that were pulled back at the nape of his neck and his hands that were clutching at your head piece, had all simultaneously taken your breath away. There had never been anyone in the church that met his appearance. He had a bad boy turned good look that really set your insides ablaze. Whether it was a warning from God, not to stray from the path by allowing you to feel small licks of hellfire, or your subconscious begging for a reason to deviate from the life that was so carefully laid out for you, you didn't know but what you did know was this man would now become the catalyst of all your waking day dreams.

“Oh, yes my apologies, sir.” You softly smile before taking the veil and placing it securely on your head. You turn back to the big wooden cross hung above the altar you’re standing afront, before looking back into the strangers' doe pools of chocolate. “How uh, how are you enjoying your seminary studies?” You question, cheeks heating up at your terrible attempt at small talk.

“My seminary studies?” Eddie repeats with a low chuckle as his eyebrows shoot up, getting lost behind the fringe of his shaggy bangs. He cocks a wide smirk at your question, you really were as sweet and delicate as you looked. That made the future priests’ stomach flip in excitement. The need for corrupting such a cute little thing, vehemently returning. He hadn’t felt that utter desire in years. He would give this all up to watch you fall apart underneath him.

“Mmhm.” You giggle with a small nod of your head, fingers twisting together over your front from the frisson excitement bursting through your chest. You had never felt this way talking to any priests or priests in training, the rush was addicting.

“It’s going well.” The male murmurs with an unconvincing smile, his eyes glance down to your lips before snapping back up to your eyes in a fleeting moment. Your heart rate kicks up at the implication before you boldly turn towards him, your chest puffed out as the swell of your breasts are tightly hugged by the black fabric of your unflattering habit.

Eddie takes a step closer towards you, the toe of his boots brush against your black flats. His eyes roaming your fully clothed body as if he had x-ray vision and could see the black lace set you allow yourself to wear underneath, as an act of rebellion that only you were allowed a glimpse of.

His left hand slowly moves into your space, gently placing the cloth of your veil that had fallen over the front of your shoulder, back to its rightful place. The act was so tender and kind you couldn’t help but to lean closer into his touch.

The chapel was so still, all that could be heard was the heavy breathing of two very enamored people, as if they finally found what they had been looking for all along. A safe place to house their hearts.

In a matter of seconds you jerk back, as footsteps ring out from the corridor, startling you out of your love filled daze. Eddie thinks on his feet, the awfully close position being far too compromising, so he takes your hand and leads you into the confession box. He covers your mouth as the footsteps grow closer, two people chattering as they walk by before leaving out of the exit, letting the heavy wooden doors slam shut behind them.

Eddie quickly removes his hand, shooting you a sympathetic smile before the realization hits that you’re seated on his lap, half awakened cock digging into your backside causing a small gasp and unintentional clench of your thighs. A devious smile displays itself upon the brown eyed boy's lips, you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. And he didn’t even know you. Oh he’s fucked.

His soft lips swiftly brush up against yours, making you quickly pull away in surprise. “I can’t kiss you, I don’t even know your name.” You whisper rather unconvincingly.

“It’s Eddie, what’s your name sweetheart?” He purrs into your ear, goosebumps alite your skin as you squirm in his lap from the low timber of his voice.

You meekly recite your name as your face grows hot from his attention. “Mmm, pretty name for an even prettier girl.” He huffs before he licks his lips in anticipation. His cock now fully hard and poking into your clothed skin.

Eddie gently grabs your chin, eyes meeting yours in a powerful standoff. “May I kiss you, angel? I really need to kiss you.” The desperation dripping from his voice is enough to convince you of anything.

“Yes.” You murmur before fully straddling him, his lips find yours in a passionate frenzy as you move together like a beautiful melody.

In all of your timidness and trepidation you’ve completely forgotten how it feels to be pressed up against another body, brain empty as you enjoy the moment as it comes, you giggle between kisses at the double entendre.

“What’s so funny, huh?” Eddie says playfully, grabbing at your sides and causing a shriek of loud laughter to roll off your tongue. How was it possible that this man made you feel like a kid again, a kid you didn’t even get to be? The fleeting nostalgia is quickly interrupted when Eddie puts a finger up to your lips, a gesture that asks “do you wanna get caught?” And it almost makes you giddy, nothing this exciting ever happens to you.

“You gotta be quiet, angel. Can you do that for me?” He asks in a dominating tone that has you shuttering and weak at the knees. He swipes a gentle finger across your lips, placing it in between the two before you quickly get the hint, wrapping your plush pink pillows around his index and lightly sucking. The action has Eddie’s eyes rolling back in his head, there was no way he’d be able to hold back, not with you grinding down on his painfully hard cock while sucking on his finger.

Without much thought left in your already fucked out brain, you remove the long black cloth that you’ve despised for years, yanking it off of your shoulders and over your head. Disposing of it over your shoulder without a care in the world, you had more pressing matters at hand.

“Oh fuck.” Eddie’s breath hitches as utter shock crosses his features, his mouth drops open while his eyes roam the expanse of your body that is scarcely covered by lacey black fabric. His cock twitches underneath you, causing you to squirm, unintentionally rubbing his throbbing pink tip over your warm heat and pulling a needy moan from between your lips.

He wastes no time, bringing his hands to rub over the see through fabric that is covering your now peaked nipples before slowly moving down in a gentle but callous glide over your sides, to your hips and finally landing on your plush thighs, giving them a tight squeeze as his lips curl up in satisfaction.

“Can I touch you, baby?” He whispers, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he desperately awaits your approval.

“Please.” You moan out into the expanse of the wooden box as you drag your slick cunt across his achingly hard cock in one more act of torment.

His fingers move before his brain, finding themselves between your legs, rubbing right over that button of pleasure that Eddie hasn’t been acquainted with, in what feels like years. He slips his hand past the black lace, digits sliding between your soaked lips and teasing at your tight little hole before he’s bringing the slick up to your swollen bud and drawing gentle circles, a loud moan erupts from your chest as the unknown pleasure consumes you.

You weren’t a virgin, despite what everyone thought of you or at least what you let them think. No one knew that you’d lost your virginity the summer of junior year. Maybe it was an act of rebellion against your strict parents or maybe just a sad attempt at being so starved for any kind of connection, you took the only one some high school boy had to offer; three minutes in the back of his beat up Pontiac.

The feelings being pulled from you by the long haired man, were unlike anything you’ve ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. You would beg and plead to him until the end of times to always make you feel this good, it’s the closest to God you’ve ever felt in all of your life, how is this a sin?

“Does that feel good, angel baby?” Eddie whispers into your ear, low and seductive as his finger finally breeches your entrance, it slips in easily and without pain but the pleasure makes your hands fly up to grip at his shoulders before throwing your head back and letting out the sexiest set of moans Eddie has ever had the delight of hearing.

He slips a second digit in alongside the first, pumping in and out at a slow pace but the depth is what had your toes curling into your little black flats that were being held on by a thread, threatening to fall off of your feet at just the slightest movement. Eddie began to scissor his fingers apart, stretching you open enough to take his girth. The moans that were beginning to fill the church were downright sinful.

“I-I think I’m gonna um…” you breathe out harshly as your cheeks heat up from the words that you just can’t bring yourself to utter.

“You’re gonna what, huh? You gotta talk to me, baby. Tell me what’s goin’ on?” Eddie asks in faux concern, it’s so mocking and arrogant but it causes you to clench tightly around his fingers, sucking him in like a fucking vice.

“I’m- ah ah, I’m gonna cum!” You sob into his chest as you grind down onto his digits, fucking them into you deeper with each thrust, until your incredible high starts to feel slightly painful and overstimulating.

“Such a good girl.” Eddie praises, slipping his two fingers out of your pussy before bringing them up to his mouth and sucking dramatically as a groan of delight reverberates from his chest.

“You think you can cum on daddy’s cock like that?” He questions, his lust filled eyes bore into yours as the filthy words drip from his tongue. You should be disgusted, it should turn your stomach…but it doesn’t, not even in the slightest. Instead it amplifies your arousal and now it’s you who is desperate, yanking his vestment off of his upper body in one swift and eager motion.

With Eddie’s full chest on display, you drag your nails gently down his torso, causing a whimper to slip past his lips. He has tattoos. The revelation causes your eyes to widen. You didn’t think priests were even allowed to have tattoos, they were a sin in your convent. Although you had been fed so much propaganda throughout the years, you really couldn’t see what made them so terrible.

And you had to admit they were very attractive, certainly adding to the whole former bad boy mystique he has going on.

“You like em’?” Eddie asks as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, a glint in his eyes as they lock with yours.

“I do, father Eddie.” You purr as your hand brushes over his hard erection still locked behind the confines of his black slacks.

“Fuck.” He hisses into your neck before leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, his hands reaching for your black lace thong as if he was going to slip it down and off of your body, but the sounds of fabric tearing alert you to his true intentions.

“I’ll replace those.” He says with a sinister chuckle, throwing the piece of fabric behind you to be lost in the sea of clothing beneath your feet.

“Holy shit!” The man gasps as his eyes meet your dripping center, the damp coils that sit above your mound and your little stretched hole that was done by his own hand. The view causes him to bite at his lip in animalistic hunger.

“Mmm, such a naughty boy using such foul language in a church.” You tut, having no idea where that came from but if his cheeks that have now grown a bright pink hue and the wild growl that slipped from his mouth were anything to go by, he was just as into it.

Eddie can’t take much more of your teasing so his hands slip down to the buckle keeping his slacks up, eagerly removing all of the obstacles that keep him from sheathing his cock deep into your tight little cunt.

Once he is fully released from his fabric confinement he wraps his hand around himself, giving it a few tugs before he’s smearing the large beads of precum around his tip and down his shaft, groaning from the attention he was so badly yearning for.

“You ready, baby?” He questions. Bringing his glistening, pink head to the seam of your sodden lips and rubbing the tip against your clit, before prodding it against your awaiting hole. The way your cunt sucks him in is heavenly. It was as if he was a virgin again, nothing or no one else mattered before you. The feelings settling in the young man's chest were overwhelming and terrifying but when he looked up from how his cock was coated in your wetness and into your eyes, he knew you felt it too.

You let out a breath of relief when he was finally buried to the hilt inside of you, throbbing and aching for release. Deciding to end the torment of your teasing, you begin using your knees that are roughly digging into the oak wood of the pew eddie is seated on as leverage to bounce and swirl your hips as you fuck him, so audaciously.

“Ah, ah, ah…” were the only noises leaving both of your mouths as you continuously sunk down onto Eddie’s cock. His big hands gripping the meat of your thighs as if you’d dissipate without his touch.

“Please.” You whine into the sweat slick skin of his neck, before reaching for the hair tie placed carelessly into a bun at his nape. You tug releasing his brown waves that fell just beneath his shoulders.

“Please what, my love?” That word made your head spin, you’d never been referred to as someone’s love. I mean you just met him and he probably says lots of endearing things while he’s getting laid, but it certainly made that fire in your belly kick up to blazing high levels.

“Please fuck me!” You sob, tears falling from your eyes as you get closer to your sweet release. But your legs were closer to finishing than you, as every bounce sent a searing pain from your knees up to your thighs.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m makin’ you do all the work, aren’t I?” Eddie teases with a condescending grin, making you pout and nod your head in agreement. “Here you are bein’ such a good girl, riding my cock like that and I don’t even have the decency to help you out.” He tuts, a wide smile splitting his face before the hands that were once resting on your thighs, come up and grab two rough handfuls of your ass.

He pulls your cheeks apart as he sinks down some, planting his heavy boot clad feet better onto the red carpet of the confessional box. He sends you a quick wink before he begins pounding into you with almost inhumanly, rapid thrusts making you cry out into the stuffy air.

Your hands dig into his scalp, grabbing fistfuls of hair as he fucks you like an animal, with complete carnal hunger. A chill runs down your spine all the way to your toes as the fire in your lower stomach begins to consume you. You don’t care who hears you now, you just care about you and Eddie and working each other's bodies to gratification.

“Your close baby, I can feel it. C’mon, let go for me and cum on my cock.” He demands as his length throbs with each clench of your walls around him. He’s too close, but he’d rather die than cum before you.

“Oh! Yes, Father Eddie.” You squeak before crashing your lips into his. The long haired man’s eyes roll back into his head and a growl escapes his chest at the use of his not so future title. If he can’t have this then being a priest just won’t do, not anymore.

Eddie breaks the passion fueled kiss to suck his thumb into his mouth, slicking it up before bringing it to your swollen clit. The first gentle circle makes you jump, causing your walls to tighten even harder around him. His toes curl in his boots, he was so close, so on the edge to stuffing you full of him.

“I’m gonna cum inside your pretty little pussy, do you want that?” He asks roughly, but his eyes are so soft and so full of adoration and you want whatever he’s willing to give you.

“Yes, please Father Eddie.” You plead as you meet his thrusts, aching legs be damned. You can feel that high that’s teetering so close, you’re so desperate to fall off the edge.

“Who’s the naughty one now, huh? Begging a church priest to cum inside you? You bad girl.” He tsks, with a faint chuckle. His words knock you over the edge, coming so hard on his cock you see a white blinding light as your eyes tightly shut.

“Mm, that’s it baby!” Eddie growls, his thrusts faltering as he cums inside of you, your walls now coated with his white, hot release.

Eddie scrubs his hands down his face, “oh my god!” He exasperates before wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly into him, as his softening cock is still buried inside of you.

“Shh, you can’t use the lord's name in vain in a church!” You playfully reprimand, as if what you both have just done wasn’t grounds for going straight to hell.

“Hey, watch your mouth when you’re talkin’ to me, young lady! Or I’ll give you ten of these…” he scolds before bringing his palm down harshly onto the sensitive skin of your ass, making you gasp in surprise. He grabs your chin tightly before continuing, “and ten Hail Mary’s, I’ll make you say each one with my cock down your throat.” You clutch at your chest like you’d never been so offended, but the words caused you nothing but arousal as your cunt began to drip at the thought.

“You really are a naughty boy.” You purr, shaking your head as if in disappointment. You were both so deep in your own little world that you didn’t hear the footsteps outside the confessional door.

The handle was jiggled and quickly ripped open as a loud gasp rang out from behind you.

“Sister!” The nun hisses in absolute disbelief and disgust. The tone of her judgment awoke something deep inside of you that you thought had been buried. You hop off of Eddie’s lap, his spent cock plopping out and falling back onto his lower stomach. You quickly pull the habit over your head as Eddie stands up to inch himself back into his pants.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The nun you now recognize as Sister Claudia, snarls with a look of revulsion.

Eddie swiftly takes your hand and pulls you away, abandoning your veil and his vestment. His now shirtless and tattooed chest on display for the judgmental nun.

Without another thought you throw her the middle finger as you and Eddie run down the row of pews and out the heavy doors.

You weren’t sure where you were headed, but as long as it was with him. You were ready for the new journey.

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