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andysorbit · 18 days

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The Rock of Gibraltar (M)

Hard dom!Jeno x Fem!reader

Please support by reblogging!!

Minors, fuck off.

word count: 1k

warnings: overstimulation, CNC vibes, oral sex, penetration (reader receiving) dacryphylia, he's a hard dom and he's a lil mean, spitting, face slapping, degradation, many cream pies yay 🙂‍↔️

note: hi idk this just happened but hooray to my first fic after my url change! for those of you that may not know, I am Andy from neoculturecollectives :)

also, @sharonxdevi this is for you my dear 🙂‍↕️

Your thighs tremble as Jeno greedily laps and sucks at your cunt. His arms circle around your thighs and pin you down firmly; the lewd sounds of his greedy mouth mingling with your weak cries for mercy.

But Jeno isn't merciful.

Jeno likes to gaslight you a little. Always knowing how far is too far or not far enough, he gets into your head and stays there; torturing, teasing, manhandling. He reduces you to a sobbing, drooling pile of flesh and bones with a heart that only beats for him. He'll tell you anything and you'll take it as gospel and when he decides to, he'll tell you something else and that's just how it is.

He kisses your cunt sloppily, tongue flicking over your clit as your wetness slicks up his chin. You reach down to push his head away and he lets you.

He even lets you weakly drag yourself away from him inch by inch. You whimper as you move, thighs trembling violently as they clumsily help you scramble back. Jeno sits up and smiles wickedly. He palms his cock through his black boxers as he watches you.

He likes this game of lion and lamb. He likes the fight; he relishes in the way he gets to wrestles you into submission just because he can- because he knows you'll struggle against him but let him win because you love his power.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going? Huh?" Jeno chuckles. You make it to the headboard and relief washes over you as you savor however many more seconds he's giving you before he continues his torture on your trembling body.

"Daddy, I- I- I-"

Jeno rolls his eyes, "Daddy, I- I-I- Oh God, give it a rest, would you?" he says mockingly. You bite down on your bottom lip and squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation.

"I asked you a question, baby... You can answer me like a big girl," his voice floats into your ears sweetly, tightening your tummy and comforting you. You open your eyes and find his trained on you.

"Daddy," You whimper. "Yes, princess?" he hums. "I... I don't... remember..." You say between hiccuped breaths. His smiles softens and you release the last of the tension from your body, melting against the mattress as he looks you over with unassuming eyes.

"You don't remember what, sweetheart?" he asks you gently. He still hasn't touched you and your muscles have slowly stopped twitching.

"I dont remember your question, daddy. M'sorry," You warble. Jeno sighs dejectedly, "I'm always right about girls like you but I try my absolute best to give you the benefit of my very big doubt but you don't make it easy."

He grabs ahold of your ankle and you yipe softly as he slowly drags you back down to the edge of the bed, "Girls like you are so fucking stupid. Just the thought of getting stuffed shuts down your basic critical thinking. It's call and response, Y/n. That is as basic as it gets. Daddy calls, you respond," he patronizes; still pulling you back to him agonizing slow, "Now I asked you, where the fuck you thought you were going... I didn't tell you to move and I'm fucking positive that I didn't hear you ask me for a damn thing."

You cry softly, "Daddy... please. I can't take another one. S'too much..."

Jeno's brooding eyes roll once more, "I don't believe you and if you're smart, you can tell me why I don't."

"Because I'm... I'm a whore."

"That's right... and?"

"And a whore doesn't stop until daddy wants to stop."

Jeno nods slowly, "I love it when that lightbulb goes off for you. I hardly ever get to see it happen but you look so pretty when you use your brain."

You sniffle as he finally pulls you back down to him completely and hovers over you. The chain adorned around his neck sparkles and you look at the pendant with your initials accented with tiny diamonds before it rests against your clammy chest. Jeno places soft kisses against your throat then up to your mouth, "Open your mouth nice and wide for daddy," he breathes. You do as you're told and he spits into your mouth.

A chill rages through your body and he does it again.

"I'm gonna be nice to you- just this once, okay?" he chortles.

You nod and his hand comes down across your cheek before grabbing your face roughly; he leans in almost close enough to press his mouth to yours, "I can't hear a fucking nod, Y/n- I said I'm gonna be nice to you but I never said I was gonna let you disrespect me. If I ask you a question, answer it. Your mouth has to be able to do something besides suck my dick."

The pain goes right to your abused pussy and he knows it. His free hand eases down between your thighs and he strokes you again.

"Daddy," You sob harder. You know he has no mercy and he pulls you up into a seated position; your upper body totally supported by him as he begins to drag one more tortured orgasm out of you. Tears stain your cheeks as he smiles devilishly.

"Daddy... oh my God," You cry. Jeno drags his tongue up, up. up; collecting your tears on his tongue with a deep chuckle, "One more. Show me how strong you are and take one more."

You whine, "Ye- o- ok-ay... Okay- dad-dy," You sputter out. "That's my good little whore. One more and daddy's gonna turn you over and fuck that used little pussy."

You cum hard and broken; sobs rattling your body as Jeno's fingers come to a stop. He doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath before he's turning you over onto your stomach, "Ass up," he growls, "Arch your back... Just like that. Show off like you did earlier. Show daddy."

You obey his commands and leave yourself completely exposed and at his whim; flinching when his hand comes down hard on your ass, "Look at daddy's little fuck toy." Jeno grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you up onto your knees. He doesn't give you a moment to brace yourself as he drives his cock into soaking wet heat. You cry out again; head lolling to the side as he fucks you relentlessly. The head of his cock nudges deliciously against your cervix with every merciless thrust he delivers.

"You feel how deep daddy is? I know you do. Nobody’s cock can reach that deep like mine can. You were made for me. This is all you'll ever be good for, Y/n. Just a hole to fill with my cum."

His voice drifts into your ears and you nod in agreement; too fucked out know your up from your down, you try you best to say something to him.

"Dad- dy- fuck... Th- ank- you- dad- dy," the words tumble out of your mouth slowly and they feel as if they're not even coming from your own mouth.

Jeno laughs wickedly as he circles an arm around your neck and shoves his free hand between your thighs; fingers massaging your sensitive clit. You try in vain to push his hand away from you.

Jeno, being your immovable mountain, continues his attack on you with no effort at all. He's a powerhouse, using any opportunity to subdue you; he gets off on watching you struggle to free yourself. You both get off on it.

"Daddy! Please, daddy... I can't... I-"

"Oh shut up- you fucking love this."

And he's right.

You do so you nod and you sob and you relish in the tightening of his arm around your neck as he brings you closer to another nearly unbearable orgasm.

"Daddy!"

The word comes out as a plea and as a thank you. Jeno knows you appreciate this. He does too. He also knows that he's finally broken you and that if he goes on, you'll need the safeword so he does what made you fall in love with him in the first place:

He begins grounding you so he can put you back together until the next time.

"You did so well, kitten. We're gonna stop now, okay? Count down from ten with me, okay? I'm so proud of you."

#andysorbit #nct smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #jeno smut #jeno #lee jeno smut #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #kpop smut #nct x black!reader #kpop smut for black girls #neoculturecollectives

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mooshywrites · 4 months

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Making It Our Own

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Female!Tav

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - Kinda a continuation of my last fluff, slice of life kind of affair

Word Count - 3.1K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, fluff/soft dom Astarion, aftercare if you squint, multiple orgasms, biting because thats practically required with this man, overall straight degeneracy

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“How else will we make this place our own, my darling?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Why in all the god’s names, would they have the staircase here?” Astarion wondered, exasperated.

You smiled softly, looking over the slightly rickety stairs before him. They were a little in the foreground of the room, awkwardly jutting out beside the selling desk.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, my love.” You responded, kissing his cheek sweetly.

”With the amount of hard-earned gold I spent on this place, you would think someone would have at least dusted before we moved in.” He complained, dragging a finger across the desk, holding up the collection of caked dirt.

You fought the urge to scoff at the thought of Astarion actually earning any amount of money, but you contained yourself knowing he did put a fair amount of effort into having this small shop be his own.

For the entire idea of Astarion running a shop starting as a halfhearted tease, you could hardly believe you were actually standing in the place now. It had taken a few months of odd jobs, even odder quests, and… well… yes, there was some thievery involved in getting enough coin to buy the little shop on the corner of the quietest part of Baldur’s Gate. It must have been a bakery, or perhaps a tiny bed and breakfast before the two of you, because it sported a surprisingly large kitchen in the back along with four midsize rooms upstairs. Of course, if it were any of those things, it must have long long not been occupied.

“I’m sure it won’t take long to make the place exactly what you want, Astarion.” You murmured, trying to be optimistic. You looked up at your pale elf, seeing his mouth in a tight line. His eyes peering accusingly at the grime and disrepair on the first floor. Luckily, from your investigating, the upstairs level seemed to fair a bit better.

”Darling, it will take half of a century to even make it look clean” Astarion chuckled, turning his attention back down onto you. “It may be a disaster, but I do suppose it is our disaster.”

”That’s the spirit.” You grinned up at him. “Where should we start then?”

Astarion shook her head decisively, “You can start upstairs. I won’t have your pretty little hands working yourself to the bone on this mess. Or dirtying your new dress.”

Your hands idly smoothed your skirt, fingers running over the delicate gold flowers expertly embroidered across the fabric. Astarion insisted he began practicing his sewing in preparation for the shop and your clothes, of course, were his first choice of material. The simple green gown you were wearing today was covered in dainty flowering vines.

“Perhaps you’re right,” you sighed. “I can think of much better ways to ruin one of your projects than covering it in dirt.” You added, gesturing to the dress.

Astarion leaned back on the desk casually, his eyebrows raising, “What possible ways could you be talking about, pet?” He asked, his voice too sickly sweet and innocent to be anything other than a thinly veiled tease.

Well… two could play that game. You gave him a small smile, stepping forward to place your hands on his chest. You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened slightly at the movement.

“I just mean that if your hard work is to be dirtied, it better be worth it.” You shrugged.

Astarion couldn’t help but smirk, knowing your innocent attitude was as much of an act as his own. His face inched closer, voice only above a whisper now, “I can think of a few ways that would be more worth your time, love.”

“And those would be?” You almost didn’t recognize your own voice, practically breathless even with only the hint of his words.

”Oh, pet. I think you already know.” He practically purred. “How else will we make this place our own?”

You barely had time to respond before the words were swallowed by Astarion’s searing kiss. His lips molded against your own, coaxing a small muffled moan from your chest. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Your own arms wound around his neck, fingertips coming up to lace their way into his curly white locks.

”I’m afraid your beautiful dress may be sullied, yet,” Astarion murmured, pulling back for a moment, “There isn’t a surface here that is suitable enough for you to lay upon.”

”’Lay upon?’ Why would I need to do that?” You whispered, feigning ignorance.

Astarion’s hands fell to just below your butt before suddenly hooking your legs up and around him. You don’t even have time to chastise him before you’re spun around and placed on the dust covered desk.

”Astarion, my dress-!” You squeaked.

His eyes rolled in response, his hands sliding up the sides of your dress. “For god’s sake, darling, I’ll make you a new one.”

He leaned in once more, this time, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw, effectively silencing your argument. You tilted your head back, giving him better access to the crook of your neck. You sucked in a shaky breath as you felt the points of his fangs grazing feather light across the sensitive skin, goosebumps erupting on your skin and heat settling in your lower stomach. You could practically feel him smile against you at your reaction, always proud to make you putty between his hands.

His lips and teeth continued to dance down your neck, pausing for a moment on the sweet spot just above your collarbone. The movement completely distracts you from how his hands continue to sneak their way up your legs.

That is, until, you felt his fingertips drag slowly against the clothed heat between your legs.

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes meeting Astarion’s as he lifted his gaze, smirking. ”Why darling,” he purred. “Whatever did I do to deserve this silence?”

You threw him a half-hearted glare, not trusting your voice to deliver a retort in case it proved the point he was already trying to make. Instead, you pulled his face towards your own, locking him into a passionate kiss. You earned a particularly delicious groan as you gently dragged your tongue along his lower lip, silently prodding for access.

He graciously allowed your tongue in, exploring with his own. His fingers worked in tandem with his tongue, tracing feather light figure eights, seeming to be avoiding where you needed him most purposefully.

You whined into the kiss, causing the vampire to chuckle darkly, “What’s the matter, pet? Pained are we?” He teased.

”Just… touch me.” You begged, not at all embarrassed at how quickly you became desperate for him.

Luckily, the plea’s seemed to have the desired effect, a content sigh escaping you as cold finger moved your panties aside and pressed against your cunt.

”My, my.” He whispered, lips moving to catch the shell of your ear in a gentle bite. “It didn’t take long at all for you to be practically weeping for me.”

All you could do was whine as his middle finger dipped shallowly into your heat. He was right, of course, it took practically no time for him to bring you to tears with his fingers, your core clenching at just the thought of what he could do with those sinful hands.

You leaned back just enough to get a better view of him, his hair a mess from your own hands, his lips plump from your bruising kiss, his pointed gaze a shade darker than usual as he eyed you hungrily. Your chest rose and fell shakily, taking in the sight before you.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” You whispered, barely even aware the words had escaped your own thoughts.

His eyes blinked in surprise before a warm smile fell across his face, leaning in to press a surprisingly innocent kiss upon your nose. “Aren’t I just?”

You could have guessed that would have been his reaction, your elf hiding behind a veil of humor anytime he was uncomfortable with a compliment or praise. I mean, showing emotions is difficult, isn’t it? Someday, you would have to find a way to make him take the compliment. But how? Bondage? A maid outfit? Constant teasing?

Your slightly crazed wandering thoughts were harshly interrupted as you felt Astarion’s finger sank deeper within you, his thumb brushing across the sensitive nub right above. Your yelp quickly transformed into a moan as his thumb began dancing in simple short circles, igniting the flame in your stomach to burn even brighter.

”Darling, you know how it hurts me so when you aren’t paying attention to me,” He prodded, voice thick with need and his ever present pout. “What could you be thinking about other than how well your dripping cunt takes my fingers.”

”N-Nothing,” you started, a moan interrupting your sentence as his finger began to pull in and out teasingly slow. “I was thinking about how to keep you from letting compliments roll off of you. Maybe it will take this-“

You brought up your hand to trace a fingertip along the ever growing bulge in his pants. Though he tried to hide it, you were very aware of how his brows drew forward, the way his mouth parted in a heavy breath.

“I assure you, it will take much more than that to entertain any of your praise.” He retorted.

“And how much more would that be?” You replied confidentially, riding the high of the reaction you were able to pull from him.

”Hmm,” he pondered, even having the audacity to look to the side as if in thought, all while his fingers continued their magic below him. His act gave way to a devilish smile as his focus returned to you.

”One orgasm, one compliment.”

”W-what?“ You squeaked, feeling your cheeks begin to redden immediately.

His finger curled deliciously forward, pressing against a point that had your mind quickly fogging over with lust. “You heard me, darling. For every orgasm I drag out of you, I will graciously accept one compliment.”

You couldn’t even begin to come up with a retort, your cunt giving every thought away as it squeezed hungrily around the pale elf’s single finger.

”Ill take that as a resounding yes.” He murmured, clearly proud of himself.

He slipped another finger in, expertly pumping them into you. His other hand reached up, pulling the top of your dress down in a quick tug. The cold air and the desire in the air had them hardening almost painfully. The man before you didn’t miss this development at all, mouth coming forward to nip at your breast playfully. His lips then closed around the hardened nipple, tongue swirling around it slowly. You could’ve drawn blood from how hard you were biting your lip, trying not to let your moans fill the small room.

It didn't take long for the vampire to return the affection to the other, his hand kneading the soft skin his mouth had just left. With his hands, his mouth, the slick sounds your own body was making, the coil below your stomach already felt wound too tight.

You felt the white hot burn at your lower breast, the pain of Astarion’s teeth mixing deliciously with the way the rough pad of his thumb presses hard against your clit. “Gods, Astarion.” You managed to get out, your hips beginning to rock helplessly against his hand.

”Too much, pet?” He replied simply against your skin, licking at the pinpricks of blood left behind by his teeth.

You shook your head furiously, the burn in your stomach becoming more demanding, your breaths uneven and strained. “P-please… please more.”

Astarion growled darkly, his hand moving faster, his mouth returning to your skin. The coil winds tighter, your moans falling into incoherent begs and whines. Astarion, sensing your oncoming high, deftly slips another finger into your folds.

Your vision pales as you cry out, muscles tensing while your orgasm crashes into you. Heat courses through your veins, arousal riding its course as the pale elf’s sinful mouth eases you through it. By the time you’ve regained your perception of which way is up, Astarion is smirking at you, accomplished haughtiness written across his face.

”I believe you’ve earned one compliment, my dearest. Make it count.”

”That was… You are,” You responded breathlessly, thoughts not quite forming correctly in your orgasm ridden brain. “You are amazing, Astarion.”

The man left out a soft chuckle, landing a kiss on your forehead. “Not the most impressive compliment I’ve ever received, but a deal is is a deal. Thank you, my pet.”

Realization crashed onto you. Did I just use my compliment to say something as useless as… that?

”No! No, that wasn’t my compliment, I deserve another go.” You pouted.

”Aht aht ah, we said ‘one orgasm,one compliment’. You can’t expect me to bend the rules for such a clearly made deal.”

“You can’t be serious! You know you can’t hold me to anything I say after coming down from something like that!.” You argued, not feeling ready to give up the fight quite yet.

”Honestly, darling, I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss! There’s a simple way to remedy this.” He said, a knowing smile adorning him.

”And what is that?” You replied, blankly.

Before you could guess his movements. His hands deftly ripped the thin fabric of your panties and reached to pull you flush against his bulge. ”You have another orgasm, of course. What was it you wanted? ‘another go’?”

The desire you had just released from your body hit you again, tenfold. Your own fingers began to work at the ties of his breeches.

”Slowly, darling.” Astarion chastises half heartedly. “We have all the time in the world.”

You knew his words were empty, you could tell by the way his jaw was clenched, pupils blown out with lust that he was as desperate for this as you were. You finally loosen the tie enough to pull the fabric down, releasing his erection to hit his stomach with a small slap.

Astarion let out a strained groan as you wrapped your hand around the length, your thumb swiping across the bead of precome leaking from the delicate slit. You looked up at him, taking in his reactions, greedily. His breaths came in labored heaves, hands gripping your sides as if it were his only anchor to reality.

”Now, now, no teasing, pet.” He tried to retain the cool and confident tone in his voice, but his words were rasped, an octave lower than usual.

You gave him an innocent smile, placing a quick kiss before whispering against his lips, “Then take me, love.”

It’s as if you have broken some sort of invisible chain holding him back. He kisses you harshly, teeth catching at your bottom lip. He adjusts your sitting position, hands pushing your thighs apart to give you access.

He pulls away, looking down at you bared before him, though he could never put the thoughts into words in this moment, you look absolutely ethereal. The ripped clothes, messy hair, big doe eyes looking up at him; he was absolutely undone.

His hips pushed forward, his member dragging through the wetness in between your legs. A strained groan erupts from his parted lips, eyebrows drawing close together, “Gods, darling… you’re perfect.”

You let out your own whine, hips greedily pushing forward, desperate for the friction or Astarion’s cock against your clit. He leans forehead to rest against your own, finally, finally, pushing into your awaiting cunt.

It finds no resistance as it thrusts to the hilt, the dew from your previous orgasm aiding its path. The room is almost completely silent, the both of you reveling in the feeling of the delightful stretch his body imposes upon you.

After a few moments, his darkened voice cuts through, “Please, darling. I must move.”

You nod wordlessly, craving the movement as much as he did. A low grunt was all the warning that you got.

Astarion’s hips snapped forward, setting a brutal pace of thrusts. Your moans fall over your lips with short breaths, hips trying to hold themselves up against the man.

Astarion’s hand reaches down further, holding some of your weight by gripping your ass, his other holding up his weight as he leans forward. His hot breath fans against your neck, head resting against you as if all of his energy is spent on roughly taking you.

Every drag of his heavy cock drives you higher and higher, sickly sinful slaps echoing amongst your embarrassingly loud moans.

“Gods above, pet.” Astarion manages, every word sounding like it took immense effort on his part. You felt his hips start to stutter, your own core beginning to clench hopelessly.

”Astarion, please! I- I…” You start, the pleasure rendering you mute.

”Come undone,” Astarion growls lowly, “Come undone with me.”

Your mouth opens to a silent scream, your cunt clenching hard around the thick member. Your hips jerk desperately, your nails digging into the pale elf’s arms. Astarion follows quickly behind you, pained grunts whispering out of his lips as he pushes deeply into your heat. You feel him twitch, warmth blooming through your lower stomach.

It’s a moment or two before the two of you touch back down to earth, both panting and clinging tightly to one another. When his head finally tilts up to meet your gaze, his eyes are full of affection, smiling softly.

You return him an affectionate smile, hands coming up to trace circles into his hair. ”So did I earn another compliment then?” You teased.

Astarion rolled his eyes, gently lowering you back down, “I suppose you do. Please make this one better than the last.”

You thought for a moment, wondering what would encapsulate your feelings the best. What would mean the most? After another beat or two, you realized there was no hope at a long and drawn out proclamation of love. It would have to start with something simple.

”I am so very lucky to be beginning a life like this with you.” You say sweetly, gesturing to the messy shop around you.

Astarion’s cheeks redden, still slightly unsure on how to go about accepting such loving words. “Well, ahem…” He cleared his throat looking around the room. “As am I.” He narrowed his eyes again at the layer of dust you sat upon. “After it’s clean of course. A task we should be getting back to.”

”Couldn’t agree more.” You sighed, pausing. “But there is one thing you have to do first.”

Astarion looked back at you, his voice lacking any usual tease, simply full of affection, “Anything you desire, darling.”

You giggle, giving him the sweetest smile you can manage.

”You have to pull out first.”

1K notes · View notes

musickgeek · 3 months

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Shadows [Alastor x Reader]

Enemies to lovers? Warnings: Allusions to death and murder

You and Alastor can't stand each other, but your shadows beg to differ (1.1K)

~~~~~

In life, I was a mastermind of manipulation. A con woman who could sweet talk anyone into anything. I had money, I had influence, I had control. People came to me when they wanted something, but it always came with a price. For some, their lives. Some people just have no respect for the hand that feeds them. They called me the Shadower because they could always feel me watching. I had eyes and ears everywhere. It was only a matter of time before someone else got the upper hand, and shot me right between the eyes. The circumstances of my death make me so angry, I choose not to think of it much.

When I arrived in Hell, my surprise was brief. No doubt that I belonged here, but I didn't expect it all to be real. I didn't expect to have such dramatic changes in my appearance. My teeth became sharp, my eyes crocodilian, my nails became claws. I looked scary, and I liked it. Was I supposed to give my old ways up? Ha! As if. I built my empire from the ground up before, I could easily do it it again with all my knowledge. And now, I had real magic power, and I could really be a shadow. I was accompanied by a sentient shadow, a helpful friend in my business. I had a quick rise to power, becoming one amongst the Overlords.

They didn't seem to know what to make of me, and I was addicted to their intrigue and fear. Who could be next? They didn't dare cross me and find out. I didn't care much for the others besides a general sense of respect for each other's strength. But there was one, Alastor, who I could not stand. His smug smile, his stupid static voice, his ego. He always had to be the center of attention, and just couldn't stand that he was no longer the talk of the town.

"You don't even have your own gimmick."

"Just mad I do it better, Smiles?"

"Ha! Are cheap words the best you've got?"

"Ha ha, at least my words are audible. And I'm not the one with a tacky bow tie."

"Ha ha ha! I hate you."

Despite our animosity, there was one thing we could agree on. It's infuriating how much our shadow creatures love each other. The first time we'd met, our shadows bounded for each other as if they were old friends. His eyes widened in shock, but his smile never faltered. I hardly quirked my eye brows at the scene. It was like two dogs playing at the park. The red demon tilted his head at an awkward angle as he inspected me. "My, my! What a playful friend you have. You must be the new arrival everyone is just buzzing about. I am Alastor, the Radio Demon. I'm sure you've heard of me." He introduced, offering his hand. "Not in the slightest." I said, shaking it. His eye twitched, but his smile widened.

Ever since then, at every meeting, we had to pretend our shadows didn't fly together like magnets. It almost would be amusing if it weren't attached to that piece of shit. I simply don't understand it. Is it comfort in knowing there is another like them? Or is it all just a game to piss us off further? It's hard to tell. Sometimes it seems like they don't notice anyone else in the room, but sometimes they seem like they're sat together, gossiping about us like old ladies. Every time we left each other's presence, they seemed to reach for each other, not wanting to be torn apart. I have no idea if Alastor has noticed it. That would require him to have half a brain.

One night I decided to go to a speakeasy I frequent. I sat at the bar alone, but I could feel the fearful eyes on me. I smile behind my drink. I thought tonight was going to be a good night, but I was wrong. I didn't even know Radio Boy was around until I felt my shadow slipping away. They were dancing freely to the upbeat swing music, having the time of their lives. I scowl, and flag the bar tender for another drink. Maybe if I turn around, I can pretend it's not happening. Alas, the radio static fills the room, overlaying the music. I feel a presence behind me, but I already know who it is. "Alastor." I say, still facing away. "Why (Y/n), I never expected you to have enough class to visit to such an establishment."

"You came all the way over just to say that? You must be more obsessed with me then I thought." I say calmly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of me turning towards him. I can feel the comment burning up inside him. I smirk. "I could say the same. It's almost as if you were following me. You must admit, this does seem more my style." Finally I turn around with a shrug. "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."

His eyes narrow. "An interesting turn of phrase." Our shadows join us, seemingly swirling around people us excitedly. My shadow forces me out of my seat. My glass falls to the floor, shattering, and my body collides with the deer. "Watch it!" I growl at the two incorporeal beings. Alastor seems just as angry, his static getting louder and his limbs growing. I hiss with hostility at the act, letting my claws out. In the blink of an eye he returns to normal. "Coward?" I ask. "No. I simply came here for a relaxing night, not a fight. I can't be ruining my favorite place after all." I notice the bar has mostly cleared out save the employees and musicians. When it looks like two Overlords are about to have a turf war, you don't want to be around if you're the little guy.

The shadows begin dancing along the walls as the music returns. "Hm. Perhaps we should follow their lead." Alastor suggests, holding a hand out in a gentlemanly fashion. "What's your play?" I ask skeptically. "I'm simply suggesting to have a little fun amongst our banter. After all, it's been awhile since I've had a worthy dance partner." I smile coyly at his words, and take his hand. "Alright, but I think this proves who's obsessed with who."

"Keep dreaming, my dear." He says, twirling me to the beat. "Are you sure you can keep up with me?" I ask, matching his rhythmic kicks and skips. "Don't forget who grew up doing this. You don't know everything." For once, our words aren't laced with so much hostility. I guess tonight will be a good night after all.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #vivziepop #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #radio demon

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alixra · 4 months

Text

away game | paige bueckers

summary- paige is away at a game and calls you.

word count- 1.1k

UConn had just beat Maryland. A much-needed win after a tough loss against NC State.

You hardly knew anything about basketball. But you had found interest in the sport after falling in love with one of its biggest stars: Paige Bueckers. You had been dating her for roughly seven months. And you couldn't be happier.

Her schedule did make things difficult. She almost always had to be on the road for an away game. And if she wasn't, she was either at practice or working out. The two of you found ways to make it work. No matter how much you missed each other.

It had been two hours since the game ended. And you were awaiting a call from Paige. It had become a routine for her to call you every night when she was away. Even if it was for a short period.

Your phone began ringing, and you tried not to squeal in excitement.

"Hi, baby," Paige said as soon as you answered.

"Hi," you said through a smile. "How did your game go?"

"Good, I'm tired."

"You should be. You did amazing," you stated.

Paige's heart fluttered at your praise, "Thank you."

"Of course." You replied, comfortable silence taking over the phone call.

"What are you doing?" Paige asked, breaking the quiet.

"Homework," you groaned, causing her to laugh. "Where are the girls?"

"Oh, they went out. I'm the only one still here."

"Why didn't you go with them?" You questioned.

"I didn't feel like it," she explained. "I had something else on my mind anyway."

"Like what?"

"You," she smiled.

You giggled, glad that she couldn't see the blush on your face. "Oh really?"

"Mmhhmm," she responded proudly.

"I was thinking about you too."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you whispered, lying on your back.

The atmosphere shifted, going from lighthearted to intense in mere seconds.

"I wanna hear your voice," Paige confessed, her hand resting on her stomach.

"Ok," you smiled. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me how good I did again."

Your grin widened, "You did so good. And you're so amazing and so perfect. And so hot."

Paige smirked, focusing on the last part of your sentence. "I'm so what?" She teased.

"So hot," you repeated, your voice serious compared to her playful one.

Paige cleared her throat, her hand getting close to her pants. "Thank you," she said, her voice huskier than before.

It was silent for a little before you spoke, "Paige."

"Yeah?"

"What's the real reason you didn't go out?" You inquired, knowing it wasn't like the party animal to not want to go out and get wasted.

"You know me too well," she smiled.

"I do," you responded, smirking triumphantly. "Now answer my question," you said firmly, noticing Paige was trying to get you off-topic.

Paige licked her lips, "Because I wish you were here."

"To do what?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but her words stuck in her throat.

"Come on, Paige. You can tell me."

"I just missed you," she replied stubbornly, slipping her hand underneath her sweatpants.

"Oh yeah?" You asked, picking up on the way her breath hitched out of nowhere.

"Yeah," she responded. Trying to control her shaky breath as she rubbed her clit through her soaked underwear.

"Liar," you stated.

"How am I a liar?" She replied, keeping up the innocent act.

"Because I know what you're doing right now."

She had now moved past her underwear, her fingers inching closer to her aching entrance. "What am I doing then?"

You smiled, taking your bottom lip in your teeth, "Touching yourself."

She chuckled breathily, "You caught me."

"I did," you replied. Your stomach tightened as you thought about Paige touching herself to your voice.

"Keep talking," she struggled to say, not trying to hide the quiver in her voice anymore.

"Why?" You asked, even though you knew what she wanted.

"Just- please," she whined. The faint sound of her fingering herself is prominent in your hearing.

"Do you do this a lot?" You questioned, giving in to her request.

"Only when you're not around," she responded.

"What do you think about?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

Her breathing was getting heavier now, "You."

"Why?" You inquired, enjoying making her say what you already knew out loud.

She huffed, "You know why."

"No, I don't," you lied, "Tell me.”

"Because you're pretty and hot," she practically whined. "And you have such an amazing body."

"I do?"

"Yes!" She responded, her tone more amped up now.

You couldn't help the way your hand drifted downwards. The throbbing between your legs is too intense to ignore.

"You close, baby?" You asked, now touching yourself too.

"Yeah," she moaned.

You sat your phone down on the bed, right beside your ear. "Hold on a little longer," you instructed.

You moved your hand from your clit to your dripping slit. Too impatient to wait any longer, you slipped two of your fingers inside yourself. Imagining that they were Paige's instead.You let the sounds she made bring you closer and closer to the edge. A few moans escape from your lips as well.

"Fuck," she murmured, aware of what you were doing.

"I love you," you exhaled.

"I love you too," she said, her voice strained.

You slid your fingers in and out of yourself, using your thumb to rub your clit.

She inhaled sharply before speaking again, "I'm gonna cum."

"Me too," you agreed, gritting your teeth.

Paige let out a long groan, finishing. Meanwhile, your orgasm was quickly approaching. You let the sounds of her riding out her high tip you over the edge, a string of curse words falling from your swollen lips. It wasn't one of the best orgasms you've had. But the mere idea of Paige made it enjoyable.

Silence rang throughout your ears as you let out a satisfied sigh. The only sound coming from your phone is your girlfriend's heavy breathing. Several minutes passed, the two of you simply listening to each other breathe.

"Y/n," Paige whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I was just making sure you were still there," she said, and you could tell she was smiling.

You laughed, "I'm here."

"Don't leave," she pleaded.

"I won't.”

"Thank you."

"Anytime," you responded.

Either way, you loved falling asleep on the phone with Paige. You loved the adorable sound of her breathing and how comforting her presence was. Even if she wasn't physically with you, you felt safe and secure.

"Goodnight, beautiful," she murmured, already half asleep.

Butterflies swarmed your stomach, "Goodnight, even more beautiful."

She laughed softly before submitting to sleep. You rolled over on your back, squirming around as you got comfortable. You relished in the warmth and coziness of your bed, thinking about how lucky you were to have your girlfriend.Your eyes felt heavy, and you yawned as you fell asleep, wishing that Paige was next to you.

#paige bueckers #uconn #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #wbb #wcbb #women’s basketball #women’s college basketball #wlw #wlwsmut #smut #wlw ns/fw #ns/fw #established relationship #relationship #Spotify

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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months

Text

Respawn and Relive

@thenightwolf51 who tagged me in this months ago, but I didn't know enough about Respawn to write something. I didn't forget! I just still haven't found much on him, so sorry if I get his character wrong.

They don't give him a name.

It's one of the first things he notices they do to dehumanize him. It's not like they see clones as humans- he's just a science experiment meant to keep the legacy of the League of Assassins alive, even at the cost of his life.

He is just there to be trained to follow commands, and if needed, he is spare parts for the Real Son. He is made from part of the same DNA as the Real Son, but that hardly matters to what should be his mother, as she does not feel anything for his biological father and thus feels nothing for the being created from the two DNAs.

He is the clone created by Slade Wilson- alias Deathstroke- and Talia al Ghul. She may not had a hand in his creation, as that was done by her father, but she had no issues using him.

Torment him. Rip him apart and put it back together just to see what happens.

She looks at him with the same gaze she would a sword. Valuating his worth by how well he can do in training, how healthy his organs are, and how he should be nothing but a loyal dog.

But he isn't. Not really.

If this was all he knew, maybe he would be the weapon they wanted, but he knows more. Remembers more. Yes, he doesn't have all his memories, but he has flashes- glimpses- of the life he had before the Leauge.

They would disapprove of the memories, which makes them all the more precious.

He can still clearly remember his mother- his real mother- a brilliant mind, his father's warm, solid hugs, and his sister's gentle eyes. He can recall his home's layout even if he can not remember the street or how far it was from his school. He can identify his two best friends' faces even if their names slip through his fingers like falling sand.

He also remembers his first name and the initials of his last.

Danny F.

He thinks he died before, waking up as the clone. He remembers standing inside a metallic cave- or a large hole in a machine?- and being electrocuted. He remembers the screams, the flashes of light, the pain, and even a glimpse of his best friends' horrified faces but not much else.

The next clear memory is looking in a mirror to see white hair and green eyes. The same combination he now sports as the Leguage's weapon and spare organ farm.

The memories after that are filled with harsh training, even more, brutal torture, and the reintegration that should his half-brother ever need them, he would give up his organs for the Real Son.

He is, after all, Damian Wayne's gift. He was created to harvest his super healing for the boy's body parts. Danny thinks he hates him, but he's not sure he can remember what hate is supposed to feel like.

He does remember what love is supposed to feel like.

Sometimes, when all he can do is lay in his cell, body aching as they test his healing factor beyond its limits- they cut off his left arm once, just to watch the tissue slowly regrow- he lets himself drown in his old memories, in the few dream-like sequences.

Some make sense, others don't. For some, he's a black-haired blue-eyed boy, and for others, he has white hair and green eyes.

Danny is sitting in class, eagerly taking notes on a topic he has been having trouble with-

-He's playing fetch with a small green dog, throwing snowballs into the air, flying after the excited creature-

-Danny is playing video games with a goth girl and a nerdy boy, laughing so hard he can't see the buttons on the control correctly-

-He's flaying alongside his sister, aiming his outstretched arm at a figure in the sky, shooting a green ray at the same time she does down below in her mechanical armor-

-Danny is helping his mother mix the dough for the cookies. He is swaying his hips to the song she has on the speaker. She's in her teal jumpsuit, having come up from the lab to do mother/son cookies as they do every Thanksgiving-

-He's testing the latest blaster with his father. They wanted to see if the auto-aiming feature was interfering with his flying. He flickers the white bangs out of his eyes as his father cheers from the roof while he takes aim-

Yes, Danny knows what love is supposed to feel like, even if he can't remember all the details, even if his full name evades him. He will escape the Leauage of Assiagins and find that feeling again.

Maybe he'll track down his biological father. Deathstroke does not know a clone was created by him, so maybe he will be willing to take him in.

It takes months, but eventually, they tell him Damian Wayne needs a kidney. Why? They don't say, but Talia knows her Beloved will donate his own, and she won't stand for it. She orders him to fulfill his duty as guards drag him to the operation table.

He grits his teeth as they strap him down and prep for surgery. Thankfully, they don't apply any anesthetics- they don't deem him worthy of a painless operation- so he has a clear head for escape.

The surgery has a thirty-window opening with no guards around. He waits until they are about to begin when he taps into the powers his memories tell him. He makes his limbs intangible, slipping through the restraints with great effort.

The medics only have a few seconds to be shocked before he is upon them. They lay in a pool of blood- not dead. His chest flares up in pain if he kills, so he tries to avoid it as much as his environment allows- as he flies through the walls. He has been planning here, so he knows what to do. Turning invisible, he passes under a helicopter scheduled for a month supply run.

By doing so, he does not appear on any radars using the large cargo as camouflage. Danny drops into the ocean as the alarms go off on that wrenched island, allowing his whole body to turn tangible. This way, the water does not slow him down as he flies deeper and deeper down, praying that they won't be able to track him the further he goes. When he gets to the part where everything is too dark to see- he picks a direction from where he came and hits top speed.

Traveling three hundred miles an hour, Danny escapes the League of Assians with all his organs intact, so take that Damian Wayne.

He has no real destination in mind but maybe, he can find the little town of his memories or maybe he'll find Deathstroke.

Maybe he will discover what the F. in his name stands for.

For now, he'll work under the name Respawn because that's a name he picked out for himself, and he'll do what he wants. He's no one's tool any longer.

(Miles away Tim Drake squints at the small dot darting from Nanda Parbat on his spying map. He's not sure what kind of misle Ra's just shot, but it's traveling fast, and he feels like he needs to phone this in.

"Hey B, we may have an issue." )

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Respawn and Relive #Danny wakes as Respawn #He's out in the world #Sort of resents Damian but it's not like his half brother knows about him #Yes he escape earlier because of his somewhat memories #Partial amnesia #TW: Mentions of torture

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heartss4val · 6 months

Text

WOUNDS — jason grace x gn!reader

ⓘ word count [649] | masterlist

it's late at night, the moon casting its gentle glow through your window, illuminating the figure of jason standing between your legs, his head nestled in your hands. you carefully tend to the scratches and cuts on his face as he subconsciously leans into your touch. despite the smell of alcohol pads in the air and the sight of blood on his shirt, he can't help but admire how beautiful you look in the light of the moon.

as you cradle his face, your fingers intertwined in his hair and absentmindedly stroking it, jason feels almost overwhelmed by the amount of tenderness you're showing him. it had been a long time since he'd experienced such love and he didn't think he deserved it. growing up, he was always expected to stay in his place, to follow tradition and never stray from the path that had been set for him. he was raised to do extraordinary things, but in doing so, his childhood was taken away from him, and he was forced to become a child soldier, a mere pawn in someone else's game.

but then you came into his life, and with your infectious smile that he he would do anything for, you brought with you a sense of hope that he had never felt before. for the first time in his life, someone saw him for who he truly was, not just the persona that he had been forced to project. jason wishes he could be even half the person that you were, and to him, you were truly like an angel sent from above, shattering the rigid cast that had been forced upon him. he could finally be himself. for the first time, he could look around and see the people who truly cherished him for who he was, not just for the image that he projected. with you, he felt free. cherished. loved.

jason wants to learn how to love like you. he sees it in the way you gently wipe down his glasses or prepare a plate of food for him when he forgets to eat breakfast. the way you surprise him with little trinkets and knick-knacks that overcrowd his shelves tremendously. jason is constantly in awe of your love for him and longs to reciprocate it in the same way. whenever you express your affection for him, whether it be through the little kisses you leave on the side of his neck or your soft declarations of 'i love yous' whispered in the stillness of the night as you're nestled into his strong arms, it fills him with a euphoria that he can hardly put into words. maybe if jason loved you any less, he'd be able to talk about it more.

but now, even in the dead of the night when he wants nothing more than to rest and hold you in his embrace, jason's thoughts are still consumed by you and how grateful he is for your presence. to him, you embody all the beauty and wonder of the world, and no one else could even come close.

suddenly, your gentle voice snaps him out of his thoughts. he looks up to see your smiling face, and the sight brings a small smile to his own.

"all done," you say, packing up the med-kit, and he nods in thanks, reaching up to feel the bumps of bandages that cover his face, a reminder of the accident that brought him here. he gives you yet another smile of appreciation, and, without missing a beat, you bring his face in for a tender kiss, peppering his bandaged face with sweet pecks.

the air is electric with anticipation and excitement as you both lean in for a soft kiss, his hand gently cupping your cheek, silently whispering "i love you." it's the kind of kiss that fills his heart with joy and warmth, and jason wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

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luveline · 8 months

Note

hope my boyfriend's okay request.

hi!!! can I request hurt comfort or angst with spencer reid? maybe reader is just an ordinary girl, not that smart, not that pretty, or even a college drop out (like reader from honeybody) so she is kinda insecure when spencer being kind to her or even ask her on a date?

tysm♡

"Do you want to play?" Spencer asks.

You're flushed before you open your mouth, startled by his sudden appearance and the new haircut he sports, curls locked back behind his neck. "Sorry, I just wanted to sit down."

"No, I'm just asking if you want to play," he says, shaking the little briefcase he holds between his fingers to emphasise the rattle of the chess pieces inside.

You've stolen his chess table again at the park. It's how you met, how you continue to meet —you want somewhere to put your book as you read and Spencer hardly ever makes you move, he just sort of sits with you until someone is in need of an opponent.

"I don't know how. I don't have the smarts."

Spencer sits down opposite you, placing the briefcase against the white and black chequered tiles. "Playing chess isn't about being smart. Being good at chess takes learned skill, though. It's like learning a language. Most people can say hello and goodbye if they try, but fluency comes with practice." He smiles at you like you're lovely and pretty and someone worth explaining this too, when you're worrying It's filtering out of your head like water through a sieve. Draining, draining, gone.

"I don't even think I could remember hello and goodbye," you say. Your attempt to smile back at him is pitiful.

His smile ebbs. "You're sure you don't want to play? I'd go easy for you."

You curl the cover of your paperback in your hands, deliberating. Chess is one of those games that seems never-ending. It's full of manoeuvres and techniques, openings, closings, all these learned combinations, strategy like nothing you've ever been able to comprehend. You've never wanted to learn because you know you won't be good, even if you try.

"Okay," you say quietly. "I really won't be any good."

Spencer shrugs and begins to retrieve the small wooden chess pieces. "I usually win anyways."

"Have you ever, um, competed? Like the grandmaster things?"

"No, but I had a friend I competed against for a long time. We played a lot of games. He was better at winning, despite my advantage." Spencer arranges your pieces with care. "Do you need me to teach you the opening moves?"

He explains slowly. When you need help, he gives it, and he doesn't lord it over your head. It's a little shameful seeing the difference in your intellectual capabilities displayed so clearly, and the longer the game goes on the worse you feel, even though Spencer lets you win.

"You'll get better every game," he says, returning taken pieces to the board.

"You want to play again?" you ask. "Come on, Spencer, that can't have been fun for you."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because I'm a useless opponent? And I don't really have anything else going for me, either, so it must be boring." It's an awkward thing to say, self-deprecating and stilted considering you and Spencer aren't more than acquaintances. You regret it as soon as you've said it but the frustration of the situation sticks around. "I don't understand why you waste your time with me."

"It's not wasted if it's with you." Spencer looks genuinely confused, shapely eyebrows pinching. "Is that what you really think? I like spending time with you, I don't need you to be a chess expert to find you interesting."

"But there's nothing interesting,," you insist.

"Of course there is…" He straightens a chess piece, gaze split between you and the board. "You don't have to say something from a journal for it to be worth saying. You know, I've had a thousand conversations this year, some of them with professors or academic experts, but," —he puts his hand, now finished with the chess pieces, over his elbow, meeting your eyes shamelessly— "the one I replay the most is from a few weeks ago, when you told me why you like to read in the park."

"That was just small talk," you say weakly, though it hadn't felt small to you, and now you know it wasn't small for him either.

"Then I guess I love small talk," Spencer says. "Do you want to play again? I'll teach you some good opening moves if you tell me more about you. Deal?"

You nod hurriedly, and fail to hide a beaming smile. "Teach me the best one."

"That's what I meant," he says.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #luveline's 40k party

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glitterjay · 1 month

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— staring contest

⠀⭒ paring heeseung x afab!reader. friends to lovers(?, makeout, pet names, drabble, mention of alcohol(?, short, semi suggestive content under the cut (minors DNI)

parties like this were often in this side of town. big houses, loud music, it was what you and your friends called the rich kids neighborhood as kids. and here you were now, walking into one of those big houses for a party you were invited.

you had met jake in one of your classes and you had both hit it off instantly. it would be too fast to call him your best friend, but he was definitely making his way up to that title.

you heard about this big party invitation going around, to which jake gladly filled you in. it was lee heeseung's party. ironically, he and jake were really good friends, which made the latter earn a plus one to the invitation he had received.

jake had told you before that heeseung limits a lot who he hangs out with, which just makes him even more popular for his "mysterious" reputation. you weren't going to lie, he was handsome, but you wouldn't try to get to know him if he didn't want to.

once you both made it into the house, jake grabbed your hand to lead you to his group of friends (which included the host of such party) who seemed to already be playing around with each other. "damn jake, i didn't know you had a girlfriend" one of the boys teased.

"she's not my girlfriend, jay. but at least i have a pretty girl to accompany me." the comments made you blush furiously, coughing as if that would make the redness leave your face. "we'll see about that" a voice called. it was the only face you could put a name to besides jake. it was heeseung.

"you're just in time, yun. we were just about to play some games."

it had been 3 hours since you arrived at the party. cans of beers flooded the table where you guys had originally started playing beer pong. "i know! why don't we have a staring contest?" the one who you had learned was named sunghoon suggested.

"i think thats a great idea!" jay exclaimed. "jake can hardly look at anything without giggling anymore, this should be easy." as the other two kept pestering jake for his clumsy and drunk behavior, you had felt someone else starting the staring contest.

heeseung's eyes were locked on you. it was as if a lion had just seen the perfect pray. he looked hot. you turned around nervously, trying to find the one who brought you here in the first place.

"jake is long gone. probably playing around with hoon and jay." he said.

your body tensed a little after hearing his voice. it was much deeper and heavier for some reason. "yeah, i guess you're right." you could see heeseung eyeing you up and down, licking his lips. it made you feel insecure for a moment, until you realized how close he had gotten. "i could kiss you right now."

"so do it." you said, feeling bold. heeseung didnt think twice, rapdily grabbing your face and slamming his lips into yours. it was quick at first, but then it turned more romantic. your hands rested on his broad shoulders while his held your face steady.

"your pretty dress kept calling me all night. it wants me to take it off."

i feel like this is sooo bad... | © glitterjay | tumblr

#— ✿ c's work!#kpop #hard hours #enhypen #enhypen smut #kpop smut #enhypen hard hours #engene #enhypen heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung hard hours #lee heeseung

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 16 days

Text

my heart over yours; part two | j.fleming x reader

prompt: your attention is suddenly not fully on jessie and she's not taking it well.

author notes: here's the part two y'all wanted 🥳 thanks for all the love on the first part like i swear i seen everything, just too nervous to say anything back lmaoo. regardless i hope this meets expectations 💗 enjoy! p.s. i swear the fic reads better while listening to the song...

contains: ucla!jessie x reader, childhood bestie!jessie, jealous!jessie, jeffery is trying to not tweak out 💔 #failed, reader is sorta of a bad gf/about to be gf to blondie, slight guilt tripping (?) not on purpose, spelling / grammatical issues maybe ignore them, jessie is sorta mean in this..

part one

playing been away by brent faiyaz 🎵

you don't answer jessie's question right away. easily being able to spot the badly hidden irritation in her voice, she could never hide her emotions from you. your heartbeat picks up as you look away from your screen. your eyes landing on your wall before you say anything. jessie asks something else before you can even answer her first question; "what did you say?"

"jess, what do you mean what did i say? if i said i forgot.. and.." you try to figure out what to say but can't find the words to tell your bestfriend that you forgot her game and technically can't make it because of a date with some girl you hardly know from class. jessie stays silent as she gets up out of the hotel bed. leaving her phone on the bed, her camera just facing the ceiling. you narrow your eyes in confusion, but before you could even say anything jessie comes back into the frame.

she grabs her phone then sets it up against something on the nightstand next to the bed. your confusion worsens as you notice some type of shirt in her hands as she walks back a little so that most of her is in the frame; now that you can fully see her you notice that she's wearing your plaid pajama shorts and your hoodie.

"so that's where my clothes went?" you say in a joking tone, trying to lighten the mood. you smile once you see jessie let out a soft giggle. she shakes her head before holding up the shirt; showing off the backside that has your last name on it. now that you can see what the shirt actually is you can see it's a national canadian team jersey. you let out a loud laugh of disbelief, not expecting to see your name on the back in of a national team jersey ever. "jessie..what..?" you say, a smile on your lips.

jessie holds up the jersey for a few minutes before moving out of frame to go put it back near her bag on the other side of the room. she comes back to the phone, picks it up, and lays down on her bed.

"all of the team said we should get you this since you're always at every game.. sometimes.." you giggle hearing jessie say sometimes, she gives you a little eye roll before continuing, "and we were going to surprise you with it this weekend but.."

her trailing off makes you frown. guilt rushes into your mind. you have been to a majority of the canadian national team's games especially if they happened in canada; it just felt natural to support jessie and pretty soon after attending your fifth game, you weren't just attending for jessie. you went to the games to see the other national team players as well. with the whole team becoming close to you just as they are close to jessie. you're basically a honorary player.

"god, jessie-" again you try to explain yourself more, but she cuts you off again. "sorry i just keep not letting you talk, but, god.. you don't have to come if you don't want to. it's not like i want to guilt you into doing something. never that," jessie says softly. you let out a sigh at how kind-hearted jessie can really be. she was a true sweetheart.

you go silent for a few moments. thinking about the current situation and how you could possibly not hurt anyone's feelings in the process. jessie was your top priority, but sasha didn't deserve to just be blown off. she wasn't too bad; she was really a good person too. it didn't feel fair to just drop her. you let out a soft gasp when an idea comes to your mind. jessie furrows her brows as you say, "i'll come but i have to talk to sasha first. you know about the date. don't wanna just blow her off."

"oh, okay. yeah that's.. whatever," the freckled woman tries to hide the irritation that's back in her tone. why did you have to talk to sasha about anything? especially something pertaining to you and jessie, not sasha. you hardly knew the girl and now you needed her opinion on decisions that frankly don't have nothing to do with her? it was slowly pissing jessie off. she fights off to urge to say that you actually don't have to talk to sasha first and you could just get on the first flight to san diego instead of wasting your time on some blonde chick who doesn't even know you; well, doesn't know you like how jessie knows you.

she wasn't even your girlfriend, just some date. hardly that, more like a project partner.

you can hear the irritation in her voice easily, again, jessie couldn't hide her emotions around you to save her life but you don't address it. reminding yourself to talk to her about it when you come down to san diego for the game.

soon enough the conversation moves away from anything sasha related with you not wanting to annoy jessie any further. she rambles to you about this show she's been watching throughout camp and how when she went to the beach she got thrown in the water and also how she saw this shop that she thinks you would like and so much more. that short time period where it felt like you two hardly talked really took it's toll on her, who else could she talk to about anything and everything? no one else. that period of time took it's toll on you too. you didn't realize how much you missed jessie until you talked to her for hours.

that night she refused to let you hang up, not that you were going to. asking (pouting at you) for you to fall asleep on facetime with her. you obviously agreed; falling asleep first. once you fully fell asleep, jessie took a few facetime photos. putting them in her folder in her gallery that she has for you. eventually she drifts off to sleep too. sasha long forgotten.

in the morning you're the one who hangs up first at the dismay of jessie. the canadian player tried her hardest to get you to stay on the phone until she had to go training which was in two hours. unfortunately, you had a morning class and felt weird about staying on the phone while in a classroom of nearly hundred people.

"i'll be silent, c'mon," jessie pouts. her hair is an absolute mess, stray hairs flying everywhere out of her loosely tied ponytail. she's still so tired. you can tell by how she's trying to keep her eyes open; her tired voice makes you smile.

"no, jess, you c'mon. you are so noisy when you're getting ready," you say. jessie lets out a groan before shaking her head, "no i'm not. i think you confused yourself with me because that's all you."

"stop lying to yourself, freckles."

"whatever, whatever. go ahead and leave me here.. all alone.." you roll your eyes at jessie's dramatics. she groans again when even her dramatics don't work. you finally hang up after promising her that you would call her tonight. she texts you hardly a minute after you hanged up,

freckles 💗

you woke me up, left, and now i can't sleep 😐

you

that's not even my fault

blame ucla

freckles 💗

im not saying you should have skipped class for your long term bestfriend..

but im not saying you shouldn't have

you

did someone replace my bestfriend?

my jess always forced me to go to class so..

freckles 💗

👎👎👎

not replaced it's called upgraded

you send a few texts back before slipping your phone into your bag. it seems that jessie falls back to sleep as you don't feel no vibrations from your phone as you walk to your first class.

the day passes by slowly as you bounce from class to class. why did you pick this major again? you can't even remember at this point. jessie sent you a few photos of her eating breakfast earlier. those made you smile and feel a little less exhausted. if only she was here. the day continues on and eventually you reach the class where sasha is in.

you two haven't talked since she asked you out yesterday. you were busy talking to jessie and you guess sasha had other things to do as well. now she's sitting next to you in class. sasha's playing with your fingers while telling you about how she struggled to cook dinner last night. you make a few jokes about how she could probably burn water if she had the chance which makes her give you a playful push to the shoulder.

"uh, sash. can i call you that?" you ask softly, unsure about giving her a nickname. sasha smiles, "of course you can. it's better than blondie, you know."

"who calls you that?"

"idiots who don't know me," she gives you a cheeky smile before shrugging, "but you do know me so don't call me blondie. alright?"

you give her a nod while smiling. the woman has a good sense of humor, you won't deny it. not like jessie's but funny. you mentally scold yourself for comparing the two; they are two different people, obviously they won't act the same.

"alright. anyways, i have something to ask you," your eyes glance over to the door of the classroom where your professor now comes though, "after though. our professor finally decided to show up." sasha giggles at your jab before nodding, pulling away from touching your hand.

the lecture lasts for nearly three hours. with the professor at the end reminding everyone to turn in their projects next week. good thing you and sasha finished that huge hunk of work earlier in the week; you didn't feel like stressing about that while down in san diego. sasha holds onto your arm as you two walk out of class then towards her dorm. "i didn't know rather your question was something important, so i wanted to give us some privacy. you know," sasha smiles as she lets your arm go.

"yeah, i get it," you walk into the vaguely familiar space after she unlocks the door. dropping your bag onto the floor next to her bed before sitting on it. you watch sasha slip her shoes off before joining you on the bed; shoulder to shoulder. for some reason you shift away, not out of rudeness. you just didn't want to be that close right now. if sasha cared she didn't say anything.

"okay, so, do you know about the usa vs canada friendly that's happening in san diego over the weekend, right?" you say, remembering how sasha and you talked about soccer sometime ago.

"yeah. what about it?"

"you know my bestfriend, jessie?" you don't notice how sasha purses her lips hearing you say jessie's name, you continue, "she plays for canada and i always go to her games. i been missing her and her entire team, so i planned to go to the game this weekend and forgot to tell you. i don't regret saying yes to the date, but i was thinking.. instead of going on the date you could come with me to the game? it would be so fun, i swear!"

sasha was feeling conflicted at first. she wanted to spend time one on one with you, so you two could possibly further this relationship between you but having the opportunity to go to an international friendly wasn't usually given to her. "yeah! okay, let's go. i been wanting to see the usa play for so long anyways," she gives you one of her usual bright smiles. seeing that smile calms your nerves. now you just had to tell jessie.

you spend almost ten minutes in sasha's dorm. just playing around and talking before you notice how it's starting to get late. sasha walks you all the way out of her dorm building, telling you to sleep well as you leave. you give her a smile before continuing to walk away.

the moment you get into jessie and yours dorm, you text her.

you

i asked sash if she wanted to come to the game

she said yes

can you get her a ticket pleasee. all the good ones sold out

freckles 💗

who is sash??

you

sasha..??

jessie just came back from training, already having taken her after practice shower and changed into some sweatpants and a hoodie. she wanted to be ready to facetime all night, no interruptions. she wasn't expecting you to text her about sasha; at least not like that. after last night, jessie almost prayed for you to text her the next day that you were coming alone. she didn't expect you to text that you invited sasha to her game. and now you're giving this blonde chick nicknames? all jessie can do is roll her eyes. she fights the urge to lie and say that she couldn't get any tickets; that the game is fully sold out, but she knows you would catch that lie easily. while jessie's thinking about it, her phone vibrates with another text from you.

you

im going to get in the shower

text me yes or no

if yes send the ticket 🙏 ur a lifesaver if yes

your text makes jessie sigh. she doesn't want to disappoint you even if it kills her. around ten minutes after you sent that text, she starts to ask around if she could get a ticket for the game. claiming it was for "a friend" she cringed saying that, but regardless. it wasn't hard to get a ticket, she is a player after all.

you get out of the shower an hour later. you're drying your hair as you move over to your bed to grab your phone; noticing a text from jessie. you smile as you read,

freckles 💗

i got one

*photo attachment sent*

you can give it to her when she comes down with you i guess

i'll just give it to you

you click on the photo, zooming in to see what seat sasha will be sitting at. your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you realize the seat on her ticket is on the other side of the stadium, away from you.

you

bro jess

that ticket isn't even near me 😭

freckles 💗

you didn't say anything about wanting the ticket to be near you

be clearer next time what 👎👎

you

be so serious..

jessie facetimes you and obviously you answer. now sitting down on your bed, your phone propped up against a plushie near your pillow. you sitting slightly to the side, trying to braid your hair. once jessie phone connects, she's pouting, "i can't see your face."

"yes you can, jess," you giggle. jessie pouts gets worse, "hardly.."

"you're such a baby," you look at the screen to see jessie resting her face against one of the hotel bed pillows, her hair a little messy and out of a ponytail. the sight makes you giggle again; how she's looking is just proving your point. jessie is a baby.

"i'm not a baby. just miss you..wanna see you," she says softly. being away from you without talking much was already tiring her out. she wasn't used to it, if you two could be on the phone all day she would. the second you step foot into san diego, you aren't getting rid of her. irritation bothers her mind again as jessie remembers that you invited that blonde to come see the game. she smiles when you say, "miss you more. i feel so bad. it's my fault we haven't been talking and seeing eachother as much."

"blame ucla, isn't that what you said earlier?" jessie jokes, "no but seriously, it's not your fault. you're just so hardworking. it's admirable"

"i know jessie fleming isn't calling someone else hardworking," you joke back. trying to hide how jessie's compliment makes you smile so hard; it's her favorite thing to tease you about. she was addicted to complimenting you it seemed. the canadian always had something good to say about you, it's a habit she gained back when you two became friends in elementary.

she scoffs, "i swear you work harder than me." right after saying that she yawns. you don't even try to argue with her. knowing how stubborn jessie can be sometimes. you yawn too, the day was tiring enough and seeing jessie makes you even sleepier. you read somewhere about how people get all sleepy around others who make them feel safe? yeah, that's what's going on here. too bad you weren't in her arms right now, instead talking to a screen. you get up out of bed, going out of the frame to go cut off the light before coming back to lay on your bed. shifting to be in a similar position as jessie.

"god, now you're copying me? you're obsessed," she jokes, making you roll your eyes. "be so serious with yourself. you are the one always wearing my clothes."

"alright. i can't argue against that," jessie yawns again. you decide this is the best time to talk about the ticket situation before jessie ends up dozing off like she always does. you shift again, pressing your face against your pillow as you pull up the cover; making your lips slightly pouty. jessie smiles seeing you all pouty and sleepy. she couldn't wait to see you in person. too bad that smile doesn't last long as you say, "why would you get sash seats so far away from me? that woman is going to be so lost."

the canadian scoffs, not wanting to talk about this right now or talk about sasha in general, ever. she curses how kind you are; why can't you just not care about this blonde girl? like you don't even know her truly. "that's the ticket they gave me when i asked. don't blame me, all the seats around you were sold out," she pushes away your concern nonchalantly.

"and since when was blondie, sash?" she asks. it's your turn to scoff, remembering how sasha said only people who don't know her called her blondie, you say, "since today. and why do you call her blondie?"

"because i don't know her name."

"you literally called her sasha the other night."

"not my fault that it's forgettable. it's not like she's my friend," jessie says, not adding in how sasha isn't your friend either. you stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her childishness. it was funny and adorable, but slightly annoying.

"ugh, alright, freckles. i'll drop it before i annoy you to death," you roll your eyes once jessie smiles. she thanks you before the conversation falls into talking about how she failed a push-up contest earlier.

you and sasha fly out to san diego the day of the match. unfortunately college made it a little hard to come out earlier than saturday with you having an exam on thursday, but still you two make it.

checking into the same hotel as the canada national team at around six, an hour before the game. getting from the airport to the hotel was easy but the traffic was not fun. at least it wasn't as bad as la traffic, but still horrible.

you're standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom of your shared hotel room with sasha. you texted jessie earlier before you boarded the plane that you would be there with her text back a quick okay since she was busy preparing for the game. there wasn't a need to text her that you were here, it's not like she would be able to answer it.

"wow, you betrayed me. canada really?" sasha playfully says as she walks into the bathroom. wearing a usa jersey that has s.mewis on the back while you're wearing your usual fleming canada jersey. you smile as you tease back, "i'm canadian. what did you expect? you betrayed me actually. really, usa?"

sasha shrugs, leaning against the bathroom counter, "gotta support the fellow tall blonde. sammy is a total beast." you just smile and don't argue back. what could say? sam mewis is a force on the pitch. it's been years since you played and even you knew that.

you finish getting ready after almost fifteen minutes. with sasha coming in and out of the bathroom while explaining that she actually really enjoyed the usa when they played, but is just a casual fan. you two leave out of the hotel room with just enough time to grab a drink before going to the stadium.

"sorry that your ticket is like so far from me. jessie couldn't get one closer," you say to sasha as you sit beside her in y'all's uber. the blonde woman takes it well, just saying that she will catch you after the game. you explain to her that you two are going to go down on the pitch after, so she shouldn't leave and go back to the hotel.

"forgot your bestie was a bigshot," she says when you two reach the stadium. shutting the car door after you get out of the backseat. "yeah. freckles is just that good," you smile, pulling sasha along to one of the entrances. once you two go inside, y'all split up. sasha joking that she'll see you on the other side which makes you laugh.

when you reach your seat, you get comfortable. sipping on your strawberry drink as you wait for the match to get started. the stadium has a nice amount of fans, with you even noticing that some seats around you are empty. shaking your head as you think about jessie's excuse last night; all the seats around you were sold out? as if. speaking of jessie, you spot her on the pitch. she waves once you two's eyes meet. quinn, who's beside her, waves as well. giving you a heart gesture that you return.

soon enough the game starts. it's fast and intense with players on both sides being aggressive in their own right. jessie even scores a goal for canada which makes you scream. she gives you a smug smile when she passes by where you are in the stands, making you roll your eyes. the match continues on with you screaming a bit more everytime things got too intense. the score line ends up being seven to six; the usa scoring a last minute goal to secure the win. your eyes look at the usa players fall into a group hug before looking around the pitch at the canadian players who obviously didn't look as overjoyed.

fans start to leave the stadium after some of the players walked around to interact. jessie is still far off somewhere on the pitch while you get out of your seat and walk over to the stairs of your part of the stands. leaning against the railing, trying to look around if you can see a certain tall blonde in the rapidly emptying stadium. you don't notice when she comes up to you. she playfully pushes your arm as she says, "told you the usa would win."

"yeah, whatever. canada is going to get y'all back next time," you tease back. you two stand near the bottom of the stairs, right where the pitch meets the tunnel. it takes a bit but jessie starts to make her way over to you. a bright smile on her lips. you can tell how excited the freckled woman is by her fast walking, making you giggle. when she gets close enough you walk onto the pitch to meet her. pulling her into a hug, your arms wrapping around her neck. sasha walks onto the pitch behind you but stays a few steps back.

"god, missed you," jessie's words come out half muffled as she nuzzles her face into your neck. her hands holding onto your waist. you sway a little, saying, "missed you more." soon jessie pulls her face out of your neck, still hugging you as she rests her head onto your shoulder. sasha and her eyes meet; jessie's hands moving lower onto your lower back, rubbing at the skin there with one of her hands going underneath the fabric of the fleming jersey you have on. the other resting on top of it.

"ew, your hand is all sweaty.." you mumble against her ear. jessie just chuckles, partially at your small disgust and partially at how sasha's eyes glance from where jessie's hands are on your body then back to meeting the canadian's eyes. the soccer player gives sasha a smug smile right before you pull away from the hug. you don't stray too far though, interlocking your hand with jessie's afterwards.

you pull jessie closer to sasha. smiling as you say, "sorry sash. we haven't seen each other in a while, so i got distracted." sasha nods, a small smile on her lips that don't really meet her eyes. she's about to speak when jessie cuts her off, "yeah, sorry.. savannah..? we just get carried away sometimes. i just been missing my bestfriend so much." you gently smack jessie's arm which makes her let out a soft ow. she looks at you and you look back.

while you and jessie are looking at each other, having a silent conversation with just eyes alone, sasha is looking at how you two's hands are interlocked. the way your thumb is rubbing on one of jessie's fingers; the way jessie gives your hand a light squeeze. her eyes look back up when jessie speaks, "sorry for forgetting your name. with the game and all, i'm just so tired."

"oh no, it's fine. we haven't even met really so i get it," sasha says. you let out a sigh of relief. just thankful sasha didn't take any offense; being rude to the only person in your entire lecture who actually talks to you would not be a good outcome. the conversation soon falls away into something else, with everyone wanting to move away from the awkward interaction.

eventually it's time to head to the bus to get back to the hotel. jessie doesn't let go of your hand once as she walks with you to the bus. sasha trailing behind. jessie stops next to the bus, glancing at sasha before saying to you, "are you going to come on the bus with me? everyone wants to see you and we were going to stop by this donut shop nearby that i know you'll like, i don't know where we're going to park such a huge bus, but we'll make it work i guess?"

you let out a giggle at her last sentence before considering jessie's question for a moment. stopping yourself from saying yes right away; jessie and donuts? you wanted to say yes badly, but then you looked behind you to see sasha and remembered that you didn't come to san diego alone.

"can't, jess. i don't want to let sasha take an uber alone. it's evening time," you explain. the blonde woman smiles hearing how you are so considerate. jessie wants to pull that smile off her face; what is she even smiling for? it wasn't some over romantic gesture. you're just a nice person. that's why blondie is here anyways because you want to be nice to people who frankly don't even hold value to you. jessie pushes away her annoyance, just saying, "okay. better come to my hotel room the moment i get to there, you have to get your donut." you smile and nod, pulling jessie into a hug before letting her go onto the bus.

sasha and you walk back to one of the entrances of the stadium. waiting for around five minutes for an uber, you hold the door open for sasha to let her in first and then you get in after.

the ride back to the hotel is awkward, but alright. you wanted to apologize for basically leaving sasha out the moment jessie appeared, but you thought that bringing it up would make everything else worse. while in the uber, sasha asks you a question, "there's this pizza place near the hotel that i been wanting to go to. never had the chance, college and all but i was wondering if you wanted to go. like tonight."

"tonight?" you look at sasha, seeing a hopeful look in her eyes. that look sealed your fate the moment you saw it; you been blowing her off all day, she deserves this one thing, right?

"yeah, sure."

you two reach the hotel before the canadian national team bus does. after going to y'all's hotel room and changing out of your match outfits. you slip into one of jessie's t-shirts and some jeans. while sasha is changing in the bathroom into a yellow sundress. while you're sitting on your bed, waiting for sasha, you get a text from jessie that the team is back at the hotel.

"i'm going to go see jessie! she's here! i'll be back soon though, i swear," you shout out towards the bathroom before leaving out of the hotel room quickly. not even catching sasha's response. you find jessie's room, the freckled woman standing there next to her door. she must have put her bag inside of her room because it wasn't anywhere near her. she's holding two donuts, smiling when she sees you walking towards her, "gotchu your favorite. had to fight off ashley for it."

"you could've let her take it. we could have shared," you take your donut, taking a small bite. you enjoy it for a moment before remembering you have come here on a mission. "okay, jessie, listen.." by your tone jessie can already tell you're about to say something she wasn't going to like.

"sasha asked to go to this pizza shop that she's been wanting to go to for so long and i have been ignoring basically all day and i feel so bad, so i'm going to go with her but once i get back, i'm sleeping in your hotel room," you say. jessie lets out a soft groan at hearing that you were going to technically blow her off for blondie. that tall chick couldn't have to want to go to that place that bad. she does smile hearing you say that you'll come sleep in her room after, but still, she wanted you for the whole night. not as some afterthought.

jessie shakes her head before saying, "i don't wanna impose but can i come along? you know i'm always hungry after games." that sentence wasn't even a lie she made up to join in on your little pizza date. you knew how hungry jessie got after every game especially if she was a starter.

"your appetite can never be squashed. whatever, c'mon," you laugh, pulling on her arm to bring her along with you down the hall.

"i haven't even eaten my donut yet and neither have you!"

"we'll snack on the way to the room!"

"what about my clothes? i have to change, i don't even have my hoodie on anymore."

"god jessie, you steal my clothes any other time. just borrow again."

you two bicker like usual all the way on the walk to the hotel room. the donuts are half gone by the time you two reach it. "so is sasha like in the room on the left or right of yours?" jessie asks. you give her a look, about to tell her that actually sasha and you got a joint room, but you don't even have to as sasha opens the door.

jessie stares blankly from sasha to you to sasha to you and finally landing her glance on you.

"what..?" jessie doesn't even hide the irritation in her voice, this was really starting to piss her off now.

author notes: woww another cliffhanger 😱😱 i hope y'all liked it because i enjoyed writing it, tell me your thoughts about it too 💔💔 all the engagement was fun last time

#jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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vixstarria · 17 days

Text

Communication

Surprise surprise, they're no good at it.

This is a continuation of my in-game bardlock series, seeing as I left a large gap in it between an intimate and emotional scene and a whole bunch of unhinged fucking. Sorry about that.

Takes place after Intimacy but can be read as a stand-alone!

Read on AO3

Astarion x f!Tav

Early Act 3. It has been nice, but it's time Tav and Astarion actually figured out what it is they're doing and what comes next.

Tav is a half-elf bardlock. I'm calling her Tav in this fic, but if you know you know.

Hurt/comfort, some fluff and a drop of humour (I am me after all) if you squint, love, angst

TW: some very casual violence and murder

Approximately 3.9k words.

“Well?” A very giddy Astarion had appeared behind Tav. “Let’s go!”

The party had finally reached the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate and were setting up camp near Rivington, after a brief excursion in the area.

“Go where?” she asked.

“Anywhere! I haven’t seen these streets in sunlight in two centuries.”

“Now..?”

The city was flooded with refugees. Some child whose mother was definitely not coming for her had seemingly declared herself adopted by the group. There was a towering pile of corpses just outside one of the nearby gates. A circus was in town.

It was nice to finally be back in civilisation.

“Yes, now! Forget the bloody tent, maybe we’ll find an inn to sleep in for a change.”

Nothing had been arranged, set up or planned yet. They had only the vaguest notion of where they were going.

“Sure, a walk sounds lovely right now,” shrugged Tav.

It very quickly became obvious that finding an inn would be nigh on impossible. The streets were crowded with refugees, frantic citizens and all those who would either try to keep them in order or prey upon them.

“Are we going anywhere in particular, or are we just... going?” Tav asked, trying to make her way through the throng. She had never seen Baldur’s Gate this busy before.

“There is something I’d like to show you,” answered Astarion. “Some place, to be exact. It’s- hey!”

He realised that he was talking to no one, as they had been separated by a group of dwarves pushing their way through between them. Tav smiled at him over their heads, raising her arms in an open-palmed gesture of defeat and resignation.

“Can’t you keep up?” Astarion sighed, rolling his eyes, and reached for her, taking her hand and linking his fingers through hers.

This… This was new, particularly in public, and Tav bit her lip, fighting not to smile, as he guided her after him.

Astarion glanced back over his shoulder at her, to see her grinning.

“Oh shut up,” he huffed, before spilling into a smile too, despite himself, and drawing her close to kiss her.

“Half-elven whore,” a nearby elven woman muttered to her companion in elvish, tsking in distaste at the sight. Either she did not expect to be heard or understood, or simply did not care.

Astarion turned towards the woman, with a glower, but before he could retaliate with his own snide remark, Tav told the elven woman to go fuck herself with a splintered broom, in perfect elvish, and pulled Astarion further down the street before the woman thought of anything else to say.

“Such... delightful use of the True Tongue, dear.” Astarion seemed in equal parts impressed and taken aback. “Don't tell me you’ve been holding out on me this whole time..?”

“Oh, no, I only know a little bit,” laughed Tav.

“Do indulge me.”

“No, it’s really hardly anything,” she shook her head. “I can count, exchange pleasantries and profanities, know a few songs I can’t translate, and a few odd phrases.”

“Such as?”

“I can scream for help in elvish, for one,” she offered.

“Why would you need to scream for help in elvish..?”

“Men are more likely to come running if they think it’s a little elven maiden they’re rescuing,” she explained with a sigh.

Astarion mulled that over with a frown for a bit.

“I’ll have to take your word for that... What else? And for hells’ sake, just say something, I enjoyed hearing it.”

She said the first phrase that came to mind.

Astarion stopped dead in his tracks, with what Tav knew to be the expression he held when he was doing his best to keep his face straight.

“So let’s start with what you think you just said.”

“...Shit. ...Uhh.” Tav gave Astarion a sheepish look. “‘My small children have had nothing to eat for days.’?”

“Darling,” he said, cupping her cheeks, trying not to laugh. “My love. That’s not quite it... Now, how many people do you think you’ve told you’ve ‘eaten nothing but small children for days’..?”

“Ah... That explains the reactions,” Tav said thoughtfully.

“Horror?” Astarion finally snickered.

“Usually laughter... I just figured most elves were assholes.”

Eventually Astarion brought them onto a rooftop that offered an impressive view of the city and surrounding regions.

“It’s so strange to be here in daylight,” he murmured. “This was one of my spots,” he said, turning to Tav. “I used to come here at the start of my evenings, alone, and just… enjoy the peace and quiet for a while.” Astarion took a pensive look around. “Admittedly, the tiles weren’t as hot at night, and all the bird shit wasn’t as prominent.”

They found a place to sit down.

“I thought you would try to get your job done as quickly as possible,” said Tav.

“There had to be a certain balance to it.” Astarion shook his head. “Start prowling too early, and the potential targets wouldn’t be ripe for the picking yet. And even if I managed to get someone back to the manor early on in the evening, it would only mean I would have to ‘entertain’ them longer.” He shut his eyes and leaned back against a chimney. “It was better to take some precious solitary repose, when I could.”

“Do you think you might have taken me back to Cazador if you’d met me back then?” Tav asked quietly.

Astarion opened his eyes and frowned at the sudden question.

“Not if I’d ever seen you perform, no,” he deliberated. “I never went for the bards. They were almost my co-conspirators, though they didn’t know it. I couldn’t waste them.” He paused before continuing. “But otherwise, if I’d just bumped into you at a tavern… Probably, yes. A pretty, reckless stray… You would have been perfect. …Would you have followed?” He asked, glancing at her.

“Probably,” she replied, staring off into the distance.

They sat in silence until Astarion broke it with a question.

“Will you stay with me when all this is over?”

Just the sheer amount of effort he put into trying to make that question sound casual spoke volumes.

It caught her off guard. They’d spent many evenings in his tent lazily basking in vague fantasies about an ‘after’, usually concentrating on the idea of being able to stay in bed all day, or the concept of their hair and fingernails being free of dried blood and entrails for a change. They’d never actually discussed any realistic nuance of this ‘after’. Or what it might look like, other than what it wouldn’t look like.

“Are you certain you want to take Cazador’s place in the ritual..?” she asked, carefully.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Astarion immediately sounded defensive.

“You don’t even know what it entails or means, not really...”

“It means having everything I’ve been missing the past two centuries, what else is there to know?” He scoffed. “...You haven’t answered my question,” he said after a pause.

She said nothing for a while, looking down at her fingernails.

“Stay and do what..?”

“Anything!” he exclaimed. “Anything you want. We could do anything. Do you have any idea what I will be capable of? Of the power I will hold. The influence.”

“Yes, yes, legions of wolves, turning into mist,” she recited. “What else… Commanding ghouls, I think?” She threw her head back, looking at the sky. “I’m not sure why you would need to do any of that, though.”

“Unimaginable power, and you mock it…” Astarion said indignantly. “I suppose you would rather go frolic in the woods with Halsin..? …Oh don’t look so shocked, I’ve seen how he looks at you. Sleeping in the dirt, living off the land. Is that what would make you happy?”

“He looks at you the same way! And must you jump to extremes?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Even if I were interested in Halsin, there is ample space between sleeping in the dirt and sleeping in that gothic monstrosity, in which I might find myself happy.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“I don’t think you should go through with it,” she said, finally. “Something about it just doesn’t sit right.”

Astarion looked at her with an unreadable expression and didn’t say anything. She continued.

“I know enough stories - and before you roll your eyes at me, there is usually a grain of truth to them – and I’ve read between the lines of enough history texts, to know there is no such thing as a jolly vampire lord that just has a grand ol’ time carousing in their castle. It’s always centred on cruelty, misery and violence.”

“I suppose you know plenty of stories of jolly vampire spawn,” he spat.

“Some, as a matter of fact. They usually revolve around romance and redemption.” She sighed and continued, as he let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve never heard of any demonic deals that ended in anything that wasn’t disastrous, either. The point is, nothing that involves blood or soul sacrifice has ever made anyone happy.” She looked in the direction of Cazador’s palace. “We should kill Cazador, burn it all to the ground and dance on the ashes. I will be by your side. And yes, I want to stay with you. Of course I do.”

“For how long?” Astarion asked quietly, after a pause.

“...What?”

“How long will you stay by my side? You have another... 100 years, 150 at best? I can’t offer any solutions to that as a spawn.”

She blinked, realisation dawning in her eyes.

“...Astarion Ancunin, did you just say you want to spend the rest of eternity with me?”

“Oh don’t you bloody dare turn this into a joke,” he bristled. “Just for once.”

“Not a joke, but…” She paused and gave her head a brisk shake, as if to snap herself out of a daze. “Just so we’re absolutely clear, what are you saying?”

“Isn’t it obvious..?” The grin that had crept habitually onto Astarion’s face felt like a suffocating mask. She only stared back into his eyes, unblinking, waiting for him to continue. “I could turn you. Grant you an eternity.” ‘With me’, he wanted to add, but the look in her eyes made the words die on his tongue.

None of this was going the way Astarion had expected. Not that he had planned any of this… Still, he’d made certain assumptions. He’d anticipated the conversation and day would flow somewhere along the following lines: re-affirm his plans for Cazador. Exchange words of undying love and devotion. Maybe, maybe make love to her again, later, in celebration. Instead everything was slipping like fine sand through his fingers. Words simply wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Everything he thought he might say suddenly felt pathetic.

“Turn me? To become one of your spawn?” Astarion opened his mouth to speak, but she talked over him. “Two centuries as something you say is less than a slave, a puppet, and you would so easily offer the same fate to me..?”

“First of all,” he sputtered, “I don’t know why you immediately assumed there would be others. Secondly,” he continued, slowing down, “there is another way, or so I’ve read. You wouldn’t be a mere spawn, but a-” Astarion winced, cutting himself off. “Never mind,” he said, shaking his head. This was rapidly spinning further and further out of his control. “I thought you trusted me?” he asked instead.

“It’s not about trust,” she said. “If you had the choice between a hundred years of absolute freedom or being enthralled to someone for eternity - doesn’t matter who - me, Gale, your long-lost grandmother, anyone! What would you choose?”

“I would never compel you,” said Astarion, his voice tinged with a hint of pleading.

“That’s not the point,” she said, looking away, running her hand through and tugging at her hair. “Let’s just head back. We still need to set up before it gets dark, and I promised Karlach we would visit that bloody circus…”

Something inside Astarion shattered and spilled, ice-cold, over his heart as she got up and walked away.

Not even an hour had passed since some of the happiest moments he’s had in centuries.

They walked back in silence.

Eventually they came upon an outpost of Flaming Fists and steel watchers, who had appeared on the road they had taken into the city. They were apprehending everyone trying to pass through, whether they were leaving or entering.

“Let’s try a side street,” offered Astarion.

They found and made their way through a narrow alleyway. It was empty. Suspiciously empty, in fact - no children running through, no one out for a quick smoke, no drunks pissing on the walls.

Sure enough, once they were halfway through, three goons intercepted their way, stepping out of a doorway. Two humans and an enormous half-orc wide enough to block out most of the passage.

“Alley toll.” One of the thugs flashed a malicious grin, eyeing Tav up and down. “Better pay up, doll.” Three more jeering hoodlums appeared behind them as he spoke, armed with crude but lethal weapons.

“Attempting to detain a Council battlemage on duty? Bold but stupid,” she said gravely. “Hand over your profits and Lord Gortash won’t learn of your little enterprise. This is your only warning.”

Trying to bluff and deceive her way through, per usual. Was there even a Council anymore? Did it employ mages? No matter. Whether due to the fact that she and Astarion had decided to wander the streets of the city in civilian clothes, without armour, or simply because the lust for money and violence had gotten the better of the would-be muggers, they paid her attempt no heed.

The leader laughed.

“Or, how about we have some fun with you, and your Lord Gortash can come and collect your body from the river once we’re done with it?”

Astarion’s blood boiled.

He reached for his daggers, thoughts racing. Why in the hells had they come here barely armed..? They were surrounded, but perhaps if she blasted the three in front of them they might run through..? But they were probably too close for that… Could she misty step behind them and get away? His undead body would most likely survive whatever came, even with the tadpole.

“Take the ones behind,” Tav snapped, and Astarion followed her lead, as he had grown used to, silently praying to no particular deity that she knew what she was doing.

He ducked as one of the goons bellowed and swung a sword at him, dodging the blow to come up next to his attacker, burying a dagger between his ribs and another in his guts, for good measure. At least the alley was too narrow for all of the bandits to come in on them at once. Behind him, Tav spat some incantation that he wasn’t familiar with.

The next lout came at him, only to stop short, as Astarion scrounged up his meagre magical abilities to hurl a firebolt at his face, making the man yelp and grind to a halt in shock and pain. Astarion’s dagger followed through his eye socket shortly thereafter.

The entire altercation with the two thugs took mere seconds. Another controlled shout from Tav followed behind him.

The last of the muggers on Astarion’s side backed away, looking at the scene unfolding behind Astarion with a horrified expression, before breaking into a run and disappearing.

Astarion turned back to witness Tav standing with her arms crossed, looking unaffected, just as the half-orc who had been behind the group’s leader pulled his sword back out from the leader’s stomach, having impaled him from behind.

Tav barked another command as the leader collapsed, and the half-orc slammed the head of his other cohort, who hadn’t understood what was happening yet, against a wall, with a resounding crunch.

A domination spell.

Astarion felt nauseous. If his body had been capable of producing bile, it would have crept up at the back of his throat. For once, the smell of freshly spilled blood all around them was repulsive to him.

“Kneel,” Tav commanded, calmly. The half-orc’s body immediately dropped to its knees, with a thud that spoke of damaged kneecaps.

“I’m running out of time. Do you need him?” She stepped over the body of the group’s dying ex-leader and walked around the half-orc, to stand behind him.

Disgust and revulsion continued to claw at Astarion’s insides.

“…What?”

The half-orc’s eyes were void of any emotion. A small mercy.

“Blood. Do you want his blood, before I spill it?” she said nonchalantly.

“…No,” he swallowed. Not like this…

He watched as she slit his throat, carefully standing behind him to avoid blood spraying over herself. Comprehension returned to the man’s eyes just as he made his last gurgling sounds, before stilling forever.

“That was despicable,” Astarion hissed, finally breaking his gaze away from the body. “Compulsion? Really?!”

She gave him an incredulous look, momentarily speechless.

“This is what I do!” she exclaimed. “This is how I protect myself. You know this! What the fuck did you expect - that I would set off a fireball in an alley?! Or make one of them have a fit of giggles?!”

“You didn’t need to do anything, I could have handled all of them,” he countered.

“Oh, stand behind you like a meek little lamb?” She scoffed. “While neither of us are even wearing armour, and they’re on both sides? Don’t be ridiculous.” She crouched to wipe her dagger on the dead man’s clothes. “What does it matter, anyway,” she said, offhanded. “Dead is dead - who cares how they got there?”

“It was just like Cazador all over again,” Astarion said, bitterly. “Watching my siblings torture each other, for his amusement, waiting for it to be my turn to be compelled.”

She stilled as she crouched, not looking up at him.

“You fucking hypocrite,” she said, finally, rising.

“What in the hells are you talking about?” he grimaced.

“Comparing me to Cazador, when you’re planning to take his very place.”

“How dare you?” Astarion felt the last of his composure leaving him. “I am nothing like Cazador, and I never will be,” he growled.

“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re already thinking of your own spawn. Maybe you would keep your word and not compel me, but you would be curious. All that power that you’ve been wishing was yours for 200 years...” She gesticulated, tilting her head. “First just one teensy little slave - someone who’s wronged you, maybe, someone who deserves to bear your ire. Then, perhaps someone convenient, in a place of power. Someone like what you would have been, had Cazador not botched your death so bad that it became public. Then another. And another. And what will you do with them once you have them? Take them for midnight picnics and host slumber parties?”

She spat on the ground.

“I’m going back to camp.”

She stormed off, fuming, exiting the alleyway and mixing into the crowd. Astarion followed at a distance, discreetly wiping the blood that had landed on his hands on the shirt of a random passerby that stumbled out in front of him. He gritted his teeth, watching her.

It had taken every last bit of his self-control to not snap back at her during her little tirade.

He wanted to stalk off in the opposite direction, but frankly all his things were at the campsite, and he still needed the group’s help, both with Cazador and the tadpole. And he couldn’t discount something else happening to her on the way back.

No, none of this was what he thought would end up happening today. Was this the end..?

It didn’t matter, he thought. Let her be stubborn. Let her accuse him of gods know what. He would do what he had set out to do. Hells, even if she changed her mind later - it would be too late. Let her live out her “hundred years of freedom” in regret.

And how fucking dare she?! Insinuating that he was or could ever be anything like Cazador. After all he had given her. His trust. His love. He didn’t have anything else. Not as a spawn, anyway.

But perhaps she would change her mind, after she gave his proposal more thought..? He could talk her into it, couldn’t he? He’s talked so many people into doing exactly what he wanted them to do…

There was no point in anything otherwise. It was all for her. All he wanted for himself was revenge. Freedom. Safety. But all the power in the world was meaningless if he couldn’t share it with her.

Astarion winced at the thought, hating that it even crossed his mind. If only he could claw it out of his brain and smash it against the cobbles beneath his feet. How much simpler life would be.

He would not grovel. He would not apologise. He would not change his mind. And he would rather die, again, than be caught running after her like a dog.

Astarion cursed, slipped into the shadows and turned invisible, breaking into a sprint. He wouldn’t be able to replicate the trick for a while now, if the need arose, but he couldn’t care less.

He raced up sets of stairs, speeding through a terrace, dodging the patrons of whatever establishment it was he was going through, and leaped, unseen, onto the next building’s, until he was ahead of her, descending back onto the ground and losing his invisibility around the corner from the main street, stepping out just in front of her.

He caught a glimpse of her scowling and furiously blinking away tears just before she crashed into his chest with a light gasp, as he wrapped his arms around her. She was stiff and rigid, but at least she didn’t try to push him away. Still, a part of him was screaming that it was already too late.

“I don’t want you to have to commit those atrocities when you’re with me,” Astarion murmured into her hair, holding her close.

“You’d rather commit them yourself?” she retorted, her voice weak.

“I don’t want to,” he said quietly, as she seemed to become more malleable, and sank into his embrace, slowly wrapping her own arms around his back. “But I will if I have to. For you.”

“That makes two of us, I guess,” she managed, sounding choked up.

Astarion took a deep breath, relieved. Mine… Still mine… He thought to himself, touching his forehead against hers and stroking her cheek. Someone in the street heckled them, yelling something about getting a room.

“I already don’t have much to offer, beyond all my burdens,” he whispered. She looked up at him, eyes glistening. She tried to protest, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “I want to do what I can, for you. For us. What good am I if I can’t even keep you safe?”

He pressed his lips against her forehead as she hugged him tighter. He had no idea whether he had convinced her of anything, or if she simply didn’t have the will to argue anymore, but for now it didn’t matter.

“I will love you no matter what,” she breathed.

Another jeer followed from the crowd, and someone cursed at them to get out of the way.

“A legion of wolves sounds tempting right about now,” she added, as he smiled.

“Do you still want to get Karlach and go to that circus?” he asked.

“Fuck the circus,” she mumbled into his shirt. “But I guess we should.”

They made their way back to the camp, fingers interlocked again. The silence that stretched once more almost felt comfortable this time.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading!

Series master list

Next in series - A night at the inn

AO3

~~~~~

Tag list:

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89 @acourtofpenandpaper @yoonshope @lariatbunny @whiskeyskin @asterordinary @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @spacebarbarianweird @brabblesblog @littlejuicebox @icybluepenguin @snowfolly @ayselluna @mj-bites @bardic-inspo

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

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bbygirlpascal · 1 year

Text

Unexpected (Pedro Pascal x Fem Reader)

18+ NSFW: Please do not interact with my posts if you are under 18.

Summary: Your called-off engagement has left you dating shitty men and having even shittier sex. Luckily, your best friend Pedro is always there to cheer you up and keep you entertained.

You always thought of Pedro as a friend, nothing more. Someone you can hang out with at the ungodly hours of the night when no one else was awake, you could count on him to be up. Ever since you’ve been living on your own in your home you’ve felt lonelier than ever. Your engagement to the man you thought was your soulmate had been called off almost 5 months now but it has yet to get easier.

Mindless, no strings attached flings here and there surely kept you occupied, but never pleased. Going out on dates with men you knew only wanted one thing, and spoke big game on their performance but always failed to deliver when you actually fucked.

Tonight was no different and you just wanted this guy out of your house. He was jabbering on about something you weren’t even paying attention to, you were just nodding your head and zoning out.

“Listen, I don’t feel so good. I think I want to lay down and sleep the night off. I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?” you said to him.

“Sure, no problem (Y/N), it was great meeting you,” he sheepishly smiled as you walked him over to the door. Not giving him any ounce of a hint that you needed or wanted a goodbye kiss. Turning around and slumping onto the couch, you grabbed your phone and called Pedro.

“Hey Pedrito,” you said to him and chuckled.

“Hey mama, what’s up?”

“Just ended my date, he was going on about some bullshit like crypto or something I almost fell asleep, no joke and he kept staring at my tits all. night.” you turned around and laid on your back, “Are you up to anything tonight? I’m bored.”

“No I’m free, I’ll be there in about 20,” he hung up and you pushed yourself off the couch to get yourself unready for the night. This part of your night was your favorite, almost ritualistic when you thought about it.

You were in the middle of brushing through your hair and you heard your doorbell ring. Making your way to the front door you opened it to a smiling Pedro, holding a bottle of your favorite liquor.

“I had some of your favorite so I figured I’d bring it with me,” he stepped in to the door and gave you a peck on the cheek, “Good to see you.”

“You too. I’ll get us some glasses.”

Pedro made his way into your living room, the glow from the pool in your backyard reflecting onto the ceiling, making silver ripples bounce and dance on the wooden beams. You walked out with glasses in hand and Pedro was standing in front of the sliding glass door looking outside at the pool.

“I think we should go for a swim.”

“What about a float swim? I don’t want to get my hair wet,” you said, recalling the labor you just went through to get your hair to its current state.

“What is a float swim?” he chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

“You know...just sit on our floats in the water. No swimming involved,” you said to him, “A float swim.”

“Ah, make sense. I’ll meet you out there.” he scurried to your guest bathroom to get changed.

You made you way into your bedroom to put on your bathing suit. Most of your suits barely covered anything on your body, your ass was out and your breasts peeking out of the sides of the triangle shaped fabric that hardly covered them.

You and Pedro floated around for awhile, sipping on your vodka martinis and laughing about the stories you told each other. Soon you felt too prune-y and figured it was time to get out, plus it was getting a little chilly. As Pedro so lovingly pointed out and joked about your nipples being hard enough to cut glass.

You stepped into the guest bathroom to go pee and hang up your bathing suit, your normal routine since you didn’t have room to hang up your bathing suit in your master bath. Naked and drying yourself off, you heard the door knob move and turned around to see Pedro. He didn’t even realize you were in there until he looked up.

“Oh god, sorry (Y/N), sorry,” he swiftly moved to step back out of the door frame. Slightly embarrassed but not enough to make things awkward, you finished drying yourself off and wrapped your towel around yourself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t notice the light was on, I should’ve knocked.”

“Pedro,” you walked over to him and placed your hand on his arm, “it's okay. I think we’re bound to see each other naked at some point.”

You’re not really sure why you even said that, the vodka was definitely speaking more so than you thought.

“Sorry, that came out differently than I thought it sounded in my head,” you chuckled nervously, “but seriously, don’t worry.”

Pedro moved closer to you, “So, you want me to see you naked?”

Your cheeks felt hot, you could feel his gaze on you and you tried to avoid eye contact with him.

“Have you thought about me like that, (Y/N)?”

You nodded your head yes. Pedro was inches from your face now, he used his finger to tilt your chin up, your faces nearly touching. You inhaled his scent, his familiar scent. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, you leaned into his hand fluttering your eyes closed. Nerves and bubbling excitement coursed through you. Never did you think you’d be in this position with Pedro of all people. You’d thought about him romantically, sure and when you first met him you had a crush on him, but he was taken – so friends it was. But now, it was different.

Pedro came closer to you and kissed your lips. Gentle but with so much passion and want you could hardly contain yourself. You ran your hands along his bare arms, still droplets of water on them from the pool. You laced them into his hair, nudging his head closer to your face. He pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he looked at you intently, “Cause if we do this, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop.”

You bit your lip and looked into his eyes as you crashed your lips back onto his. He backed up and you both made your way into the kitchen. He grabbed you by your waist and plopped you on top of the counter. The cold ceramic counter against your bare ass make you squeal but you kept your lips locked. Sloppily tonguing at each other, letting saliva coat each other’s lips.

Pedro made his way down towards your collar bones, stopping to lick and suck on the sensitive part of your neck. Giving you goosebumps all along your body. He lowered your towel and exposed your breasts instantly latching his mouth around your nipple. Cupping your breast and kneading it with his calloused hands. You threw your head back letting out small whimpers as he teased the sensitive bud and send waves of pleasure to your core.

Subconsciously spreading your legs to rub your pussy on him, needing even an ounce of friction to ease the pleasurable pain.

“Patience baby girl, I’ll help your little aching pussy soon,” he growled as he continued to suckle on your breasts. You could see his hard on in his swim trunks, you certainly didn’t think Pedro was small but you never thought he was that big. You thought about his thick cock entering you and bit your lip.

“Pedro, please baby,” you begged him, your cunt dripping with wetness. Pedro grabbed your legs and lifted them up, your pussy off the edge of the counter, totally exposed to him and he was aching to devour you.

“So pretty baby, your pussy is so pretty,” he said, looking you in the eye as he licked his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, “Mmm, and you’re so wet for me mama.”

You were practically already about to cum at his words. You mercilessly rubbed and rolled your hips against his tongue as he sucked and lapped at your clit. The wet, obscene sound filling your ears was like music. He slid in two of his fingers into your entrance, you could hear how wet you were and he was fingering you so perfectly you were on the verge of screaming.

He continued at his pace, licking and sucking and fingering you into oblivion, until you couldn’t take it any longer. “I’m gonna cum baby,” you whined to him, gripping his hair.

“Cum in my mouth mama, come on,” he talked you through it and your core contracted around his fingers, the pleasure bursting from your belly. He continued fingering you through your orgasm, “Yeah that’s it baby. Cum for me.”

You breathlessly propped yourself up, ready to please him and aching to have his cock in your mouth. Your lips locked once more as he grabbed you from your ass and led you to the bedroom. Sitting down on your knees on the carpeted floor, you pulled down his swim shorts.

His cock spring out, his head glistening with drops of pre cum that made your mouth water. You puckered your lips onto his tip, swirling your tongue around it before deep throating his length into your mouth. He practically growled as he dropped his head back, shallow breaths escaping his lips every time you bobbed your head up and down.

“Yes (Y/N), your pretty little mouth feels so good,” he said to you, gathering your hair into a ponytail in his hand, “Sucking on my cock so good, my little slut.”

He thrusted his cock into your mouth, drool dropping onto your tits as it spilled from the sides of your mouth. You crept your hand up to cup his balls, Pedro straining to not cum right then and there.

He pulled his cock out of your mouth and you rose up off of your knees, towards the bed.

“Turn around mama,” you obliged and Pedro gently nudged your top half to the mattress. You stuck your ass up and buried your face into your duvet. A sharp smack to your ass made you yelp and Pedro let out a soft hum as he rubbed the reddened area. He ran his tip along your folds, collecting your wetness before plowing himself into you.

Your walls stretched out to accommodate his size, almost painful at first but the pleasure quickly overpowered it as he rolled his hips and stuffed his cock into your pussy.

“Pedro, oh my god baby,” you said to him, gripping the comforter as he plowed into you, hitting your spot perfectly every time.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fuck. You feel so good, so big.”

“Cum on my cock princess, I wanna hear you scream.”

Your moans were feral, your walls clenched around his cock. You were seeing stars and you could feel the heat of his seed coating your walls and he smacked and gripped your ass. You lifted the top of your body up, leaning back into his chest. Taking in his scent and feeling his chest heave up and down quickly.

“That was...amazing,” you said to him, thighs shakily trying to keep yourself up.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he said and sensually kissed your neck, leading his way to your lips and wrapping his arms around your waist as he squeezed you tightly.

#pedro pascal fanfic rec #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #hbo tlou #the last of us hbo #the mandolorian #hbo the last of us

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