#a little comfort drabble for myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

valreadsfics · 2 years

Text

molting

♡ pairing: chan x reader

♡ description: the room was full of silent, dead air. the ceiling was becoming less interesting by the moment, but you couldn’t tear your eyes from it.

♡ length: ~1k

♡ warnings: a bit depressing, a few food mentions, symptoms of depersonalization disorder (dpd)

the room was full of silent, dead air. the ceiling was becoming less interesting by the moment, but you couldn’t tear your eyes from it. the last few hours were spent thinking things over, turning them around in your mind like a rock tumbled in a stream. the edges were smoother, worn down from time, but altogether unrecognizable compared to what it once was.

you, too, felt unrecognizable. felt as if the world itself was the stream and you were the pond, turning over and over, losing some facets and gaining others, never sure of what would remain the next month, year, decade of your life. things had changed so quickly even in the last year of being with chan, you couldn’t even recognize the you that was in the photos from that long ago.

you looked back at the wall of your shared apartment, the polaroids taped up on the wall. ones of chan and you, out on dates. one of felix, when he’d insisted on baking for your anniversary (and chan reminded him that it was his and yours, not felix and yours, which you thought was funny). one from jisung’s birthday when you’d planned a surprise party and jeongin had smushed jisung’s face into the cake. a collection (at minho’s request) of soonie, doongie, and doori. (of course, a few of kkami, bbama, and berry as well, but nowhere near as many.) a multitude of memories, showcased on the wall, of moments you’d spent with chan and his little family. in each one, you found it hard to recognize yourself, felt like you were looking at a stranger. you knew, somewhere inside you, that it was you; you remembered these moments, remembered being there for them… but the images on the wall appeared more like a stranger’s diary, a collage of moments in someone else’s time.

your eyes trailed back up to the ceiling as you continued to half-heartedly count the specks on the paint. the door opened, and you saw (the top of) chan’s curly hair poked over the edge of the sofa. he greeted you, “hi, y/n, i’m home~”

you could’ve teased him with an ‘obviously,’ but you didn’t have the heart. “hey, welcome back.”

he stepped closer after toeing off his shoes, lifting a brown sack and shaking it. “i brought dinner.”

you weren’t sure what he brought, but you figured it was good. any food is good food. you smiled, but it doesn’t quite make it to your eyes. he set the bag down, and flopped on top of you on the couch. a wheeze escaped you, “ugh, you’re heavy.”

“rude!” he said, only being playful, his dimples on full display. “you hungry?”

you nodded, even if you didn’t feel that hungry at the moment.

there was a smile on his face, a little tender, a little soft. it fell slowly, as he started to take in your features, the moment he’d walked into. you, on the couch, staring at nothing, not as playful as usual… chan knew he could be a bit exuberant at times, strong, loud gestures and broad strokes of affection. he reeled himself in back to the slow molasses moment, pressed a cheek to the top of your head, rearranged you and him to hold you close. he could recognize this from a mile away. he knew you too well for it to pass unnoticed.

“you’re hurting, aren’t you?” he asked.

you nodded.

“same stuff?”

you nodded.

he sighed, but said nothing. not a sigh of disappointment at you, a sigh that the world could not be a little more tender to you.

“you don’t deserve it, you know,” chan said. “and you shouldn’t let it sit so deep in your heart.”

your voice came now, sounding strange in your own ears, “i know.”

“why do you let it eat you up?” he asked.

“because that’s all i know.” you looked down at your lap, at chan’s arms around you. “all i know is letting things eat me up until i disappear completely. once i come back, i’m a different me, and i don’t recognize it.”

he listened, but said nothing.

“every few weeks, i molt. i become a different, adjacent me. you still see me as the same one, but inside things are different. all of my guts are in the wrong spots, my feelings in incorrect proportions, my thoughts in a code i haven’t deciphered yet. and right when i get everything back where it goes, when i get everything balanced, when i crack the code…”

“it changes again,” he finished for you, in understanding.

you nodded.

“and then i start all over again. and… i’ve become so good at camouflaging it that people start to believe that the signs of my molting are instead indicators of who i am. they see the shedding skin and tell me i look thinner. they see the cracked exterior and tell me i’ve become more open. they see the blood and tell me i look pretty in red.

“i look in the mirror and i no longer resemble myself. i feel like i wear myself as a costume, as a means to appear like i am normal. i look at the reflection and don’t recognize it. who is that stranger? who is that creature, with the sunken eyes and the blood? surely that can’t be me.”

the silence fell again, thick but not heavy. your words floated off into the room, before disappearing completely.

“it gets so exhausting, trying to figure out everything, and it never gets easier. i never can seem to learn the right way around, the best way to solve it. i’m just…” you started, then your voice cracked a bit. “i’m so tired. i don’t know who i am, anymore.”

chan spoke up after a long time, truly listening and understanding your words before responding. “it is you.”

“what?”

“the person i see in front of me. that’s you. that’s my love, my precious y/n.”

you couldn’t meet his eyes for a minute, but the tender smile lingered long enough that you finally did look.

“i’d recognize you anywhere. over and over again.”

his next comment was rather soft and doting. “i can recognize you. you molt, you change, you metamorphose right in front of me, but… i see it. all the steps in-between the last and the newest. you’re always you.”

“but what happens if i change too much?” you blurted. “and you can’t recognize me?”

chan shook his head immediately. “that’ll never happen. you’re always my love.”

#bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #chan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #;;val.note #;;bangchan #;;hurt.comfort #;;comments-#i hope this is ok! i know it's a little depressing but i've not been doing the best #so i ended up writing some channie comfort bc i need some myself tbh!#anywho lots of love.. rbs and comments are appreciated <3

101 notes · View notes

sashimiyas · 2 years

Text

wishing i had the bravery to write for other fandoms

#reinas.inretrograde #i don’t know anyone #i don’t even know myself #but i want to write a miserable and dark ex-husband fic with sukuna #and single! dad fic with natsuo where i put that poor man through miseries and self pitiful scenarios #bc he has so many repressed emotions and is quite similar to his father. a rude awakening #it ends happy bc that’s what he deserves! eventually #but i literally look at them and i’m like idk who you even are #but i guess that’s how i felt about sakusa at one point. literally freaking out about my first little drabble of him but got some confidence #bc tee showed up and tee’s praise means a lot <3 #BUT I DONT KNOW THEM #shinsou too. shinsou who is so alone in the world. who’s never had a sincere touch in his life and you show him light #circling back to sukuna i want it to have gone girl vibes but that’s beyond my comfort zone #bye i’ve rambled enough! but it’s on you if you made it this far!!#it literally asked you to see all of whatever so!!#kiss kiss! have a good day?#good day!!!!!!!

8 notes · View notes

kazeokami · 1 year

Text

Wanderer did not often sleep - he had no need to, and as such it served no purpose. Even so, every now and then he would engage in it for pleasure - like eating; and tonight he decided he wanted to sleep. Dreams, fragmented and fractured memories swirled in his head, and he woke, startled and cheeks wet.

Ah.

When his memories had returned, he'd simply shoved them to the back of his mind as hard as he could - the past was over and done with, what good was there to dwell on it?? But ignoring things didn't simply make them go away. He knew that, he knew that, so why did he - though he has no need to breathe, his chest heaves with emotion and he puts a hand to his temple, distressed. He's alone, and no one will find him here. .so for the first time in decades, Wanderer allows himself to cry properly- it feels wrong and it gives him uncomfortable shivers and he feels weak, BROKEN, hollow (just like him inside); but at least no one will see.

#Wanderer: (suppresses his trauma)#Also Wanderer: Great! But why am I sad-#I honestly believe he didn't cry in the interlude because yk. It's engrained in his head that it's weak and he definitely did not feel safe #And then when he found a place to be alone he let himself cry a while because he was so shaken.#You don't experience 400+ years of trauma in a good 30 seconds to a minute and just walk it off. That's extremely debilitating.#And he deserves to cry a while (honestly I think he did as well after he found out the truth about Dottore)#Like the whole covering his face with his hand (he often hides his face when he's especially emotional and doesn't want people to see).#And him just being like 'I'd like to take some time to myself now' yeah. Yeah. I firmly believe he cried a bit once we were far away enough #Anyway uh where is he when he wakes up here?? I don't know he's always wandering so literally it could be anywhere.#This is just a drabble btw I woke up very early and a little discombobulated and then I just. Wrote this.#SO GOOD MORNING EVERYBODY #HAVE SOME ANGST!!!#I don't usually like hurt/no comfort but like. It's Wanderer. He's not going to accept any comfort from anyone atm. Let him be sad.

1 note · View note

winterarmyy · 3 months

Text

Kiss It Better

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum eating, soft fluff, not much of angst but there's sprinkles of feels, body insecurities, bucky is in love and in heat tbh, i think he is particularly unhinged and filthy in this one but hey, you tell me. idk if i need to remind y'all about this but english is not my first language so my grammar are prolly fucked. Anyway--

Inspiration: Guess who felt a little soft and decided to wear a skirt to work? Yup, that would be me. No, because I commute to work (or basically anywhere) and there is quite a distance of walking in between the journey. Note that your girl here walk fast asf (basically running at this point). And because them inner thighs ain't got no gap between them, so i got myself some blisters/chafing :') then i fell into a self-deprecating despair for the whole day and it hurts whenever i walk, at that time i just want Bucky to kiss it better. Fast forward a few days later, here we are.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

She could feel it. His burning gaze following her every move. Observing, calculating. And she knew that must not show any signs of discomfort; not on her face nor from the slightest jolts of her hips. She must not gave him a reason to question her.

She can't.

So she continue walking around their room, back and forth from the bathroom to the wardrobe, as if every step she took was followed by a burning sensation on her skin. She momentarily stood in front of the row of clothes hanging on the rack, her back facing the bed where Bucky had been sprawling on since she went in for a shower.

Honestly, she was standing there suspiciously 'too long', as if she was choosing an outfit for a date night, when clearly she was just getting ready for bed. When she realized that, she quickly pulled out a clean set of pyjamas and walk back into the bathroom.

Bucky's eagle eyes followed her figure, disappearing behind the locked door. His lips pursed as his cogs of thoughts spins around, trying to find answer a question that his lover keeps avoiding but it was useless.

He can't think straight. Especially when he was undeniably famished. He had not got a taste of her his sweet pussy for about 2 weeks now and he was quite literally about lose his fucking mind.

When his sweetgirl refuses to go further than kissing and making out, of course he obliged. She has every right to 'no' and he respects her wishes. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Then again, and again.

Normally, people would've assumed that maybe she was on her period, and she is not comfortable having any sexual intimacy when menstruating. But, Bucky can tell that, that was not it. Because first of all, it was way too early for that time of the month, he knows her schedule.l very well. Second of all, he would've smell the blood if she was on her period.

Most of his senses are enhanced after all.

So, why was she avoiding it?

Bucky's is completely fine if sex was not something she wanted to do, but not even letting him eat her out? Now that's concerning. At least for him.

Because he needs her. He needs to suck on that needy little clit of hers, make it wet and swollen. He needs to lap on that sweet juices when she cums on his tongue.

Fuck. He's getting all work up now, thinking about it.

He swore that if this keeps going on, one of these days he might just spread his legs and fuck his fist on their bed while she's tied on a chair on the other side of the room. Maybe forcing her; seducing her, to watch his desperate cock become wet and messy would give her a clue of what he is feeling now.

Absolutely needy and deprived of that pretty little cunt of hers.

He was quite distracted with the filfthy thoughts until he heard the clicking sound of the bathroom door unlocked.

As she walked towards the bed, Bucky felt like his lungs stopped providing oxygen through his body, "Pretty." His eyes sparkled affection as the voice in his head echoed his thoughts. It wasn't that he have not seen her in those pyjamas before, he had. Many times in fact. The very same lavender set with tiny little cartoon cats printed all over the fabric.

The same ones that she wore when she came rushing to his side on one of those sleepless night. The time when she hold him close, distracting him away from the nightmare by asking the most random question of "You know, Bucky... These cats supposedly have the same expression, except for one. Do want to try and find it?"

He found it. It was near the hem of her right sleeve. And by that time, his nightmare was no where near his mind, the next thing he knew, he fell right back to sleep with her in his arms. It was his favourite pair of pyjamas that she ever worn. Nothing compares.

A loving smile unconsciously appeared on his face when his lady threw a sweet smile at him as she walked toward the bed, "My baby's so pretty." He thought.

The grin on his lips lasted, but not for long. Especially when he saw the tiny frown on her face, the faltered steps and when he heard that brief sound of a painful hiss slipped out of her lips.

So the moment she sat down on her side of the bed, Bucky already had his hands on her. Arms instantaneously wrapped around her waist, before effortlessly pulling her back onto his sturdy chest.

She giggled gleefully from his sudden rush of affection and that surely managed to trigger a chuckle out of Bucky. He hums and proceed to purr in crook of her neck, "What's wrong, baby?"

She could feel his throat rumbling at the back of her neck, "Did he notice it?". Her heart beat ever so slightly picked up its' pace but she planned to act like opposite of it, "Hmm? What do mean 'what's wrong'?" She asked.

Bucky can hear the change tempo coming from within her ribcage, he knew something was wrong, "I just want to know how are you feeling." He pressed a long and tender kiss on the shoulder.

The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, "Now? Hmm. I feel very loved." She smiled dreamily as she closes her eyes.

Bucky left out a brief laugh at her response, this cheeky little bunny, "That's true, but how are you really feeling, hmm? Like physically?" He urges softly.

She thought about it for awhile; contemplating whether she should just tell him the truth or proceed to act like she okay. Well, she chose the latter, "Hmmm physically. In this position? Very comfy." She wiggled her body back into him, closing the non-existent gap between their bodies and gripping Bucky's arms around her a little tight.

Though her plushy ass was rubbing against his crotch just nicely, but the former winter soldier was not going to let that distract him from his mission. He needs to know what she's hiding behind that sweet smile, "Doll..." his voice was stern and she knew he was not having it.

His calling was only met with silence when she didn't reply verbally. Since she was looking down, Bucky cannot see the frown on face and the wobbling worries in her eyes. But he did picked up on the anxiousness of her heart; beating faster by the second.

"I..." her voice cracked at the first word she said, and Bucky knew he fucked up. He swiftly maneuvered her body to sit on his lap, facing him. His metal hand craddled her soft cheek, and his flesh ones gently caresses her back, "Hey hey hey, doll, what's wrong? Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you." His voice was laced with panic.

When she only had her gaze down, Bucky tenderly coaxed her, "Bunny, look at me." His hand guided her by the chin and when they made eye contact, he apologized again, "I'm sorry. I just want you to feel better. Forgive me." He leaned in a planted a kiss on her forehead. Then, her nose. And her cheeks, all over her face, muttering his words of apology.

She felt bad that Bucky apologized for something that was clearly not his fault. She's the problem in this situation. Her negativity, her insecurity was what drove her away from Bucky for the past 2 weeks. She knew that. And she knew it wasn't fair to him.

Knowing Bucky, he's probably blaming himself for her actions. And she didn't want that. She decided to tell him the truth, "I just..." Anxiety runs through her veins when she thought about it again. Would she be able to handle it if Bucky reacted negatively to her truth? Probably, not. "Just... promise that you won't be disgusted by it... Or get the ick from it."

Bucky frowned in confusion, "I don't even know what 'get the ick' means but I promise." He swore.

She let out a short laugh at his comment, causing him to smile along. Seeing how loving his gaze was, it gave her the strength to confess. She started with explaining how she had been busy at work this month. With launch of the new product, and her being one of th product manager, she was obligated to visit the branches around New York.

Bucky listened to words attentively, at first he thought maybe she was trying to say that she's been stressed lately. But then she started to explained about how she had been wearing skirts to work most of the days, because it was one of the their campaign's rules and Bucky does not think that 'stress' was what this would conclude to.

Nevertheless, he didn't lose his attention.

"But basically what I'm trying to say is..." She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just... My inner thighs are chafed..." her voice was barely audible at the end of the sentence but Bucky caught it perfectly.

He thought about it for awhile before asking, "So, you mean to say that you got blisters on your inner thighs?" He wanted to confirm that his understanding was accurate.

She looked down in shame as she nodded to his question.

Bucky responded by pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead, "Aww doll. Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because it hurts? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped you. I mean I could help apply some meds or--"

Horrified at the idea of him seeing marks; the literal reminder of how fat she is caused her to blurt, "No!" She pushed Bucky away, eyes widen in horrid.

"No?" Bucky frowned quizzically at her intense reaction.

Realizing what she just had just done, she composed herself, and spoke, "It's... it's not a pretty sight. And I don't want to show it to you. Plus, if my thighs are a little thinner than they are now. Then, this wouldn't happen. If only these thighs are not like... fucking fat as they are we wouldn't have to go through this. And you wouldn't need to hear all this. You wouldn't---"

Bucky knew that once she was in the state of insecurity, she self-deprecate herself like she was less worthy than the goddesss that she is. So, instead of arguing with her, he simply intercepted her rambling, "Show me."

She stopped the seemingly endless word-vomit, and titled her head to the side, "Huh? No. Bucky I just said--"

Bucky grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off his lap and onto the bed, caging her below him, "And I said... Show. Me." His tone was more like an order rather than a request.

She didn't dare to defy him, when his gaze was as rigid as they were now, so pulled her pants off; slowly, reluctantly. When the pants was at the last inches before it's completely off, Bucky took control and quite literally ripped it off from her.

The sudden action resulted to her body needing to hide itself from his darken eyes. Her thighs clammed together as a whine slipped from her lips. The friction of her wounds brushing against each other was burning her delicate skin.

Bucky quickly softens when he heard her pained voice, he pushed himself off from her and kneeled on the bed before her. "Doll, please..." His hands gently squeezes the side of her thighs as he pleads, "...Let me see."

Slowly spreading her thighs apart, Bucky's eyes are now focusing on the red marks on her skin. His thumbs absentmindedly traces the area around the broken skin. He was so concentrated that he didn't say a word. And that only triggered her insecurity that she started to rambled something about how she will start going in a diet and she'll add more intense leg workout in her routine.

But her voice was only a muffled strings of incoherent sounds in Bucky's ears when he finally processed everything that happened from 2 weeks ago until now.

The realization hit him like a high speed train with a broken break system. Did she really turned him down because of this? Did she really starve him out because of this? Bucky let out a growl of disapproval when he abruptly pulled her by her calves, forcing her hips to lift from the bed. She yelped in surprised but she saw the look on his face, "You..." he rasped.

Bucky placed her legs on his shoulders, letting it daggle on his back as he palmed sides of her thighs. He then, proceed to leave trails of kiss on her inner thigh, avoiding the irritating wounds on her skin, "You deprived me of my sweet little pussy because you think this..." he flattened his tongue and nibble on her softness of her inner thighs, "...would turn me off? That these thick, soft thighs that I love so much would bother me?"

He planted a delicate kiss on the marks before, "Well, guess what bunny?. You're absolute wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite." His lips travelled upwards until it found her core. Bucky's nose flared at the scent of her arousal, "And oh my sweet babydoll, I'm going to eat your pussy until understand that. Then, I'm gonna do it some more because I am fucking starving." He pressed a firm kiss on her clothed pussy, causing the cotton to soak the juices that leaks from her hole.

"Look at that. Does your needy pussy wants some pampering too, hmm?" She could see the lust dripping down his ocean blues; the same ones that were usually bright but now were now noticeably darker.

Bucky's finger traces the slit of her pussy, rubbing her over the fabric of her panties, making patch of wetness spread even more. "Yeah? Does she want me to kiss it better? Make her feel good?"

She moaned softly to his touch, "Please."

That was all it took for Bucky to rip her panties apart as if it was made out of paper. "Fuck, there she is. My sweet pussy." He brought his fingers over, widened the folds of her pussy. Even with minimal lighting, it was enough to show him the glistening pink flesh of leaking cunt, twitching and needing his tongue to explore her insides.

He was hungry of course, just simply looking at her pussy had made his mouth water and impossible for him to resist the urge of putting his mouth on the pretty little thing. "Hmm,," a sharp cry escaped from her lips as he blew on her little twitching nub. There was this glint in his eyes as he watched her try to buck up, cunt helplessly clenching around nothing.

Before she could beg for him, Bucky's tongue dipped in between folds. Pointed at first, from the entrance of her pussy up to her clit. The tip of his tongue swirl around the aching nub. A breath caught in her throat when Bucky repeat the same move but this time he flattened his tongue.

And then he does it again and again.

Bucky, is generally the larger man compared to anyone. He is tall and beefy. But he is especially big when he's in between her legs, gently devouring her wet pussy. Slow and long licks were his favorite, it allowed him to savor the taste of her. Always so sweet and he couldn't get enough of it.

With every flick Bucky's tongue assulting to her swollen bud, she couldn’t help but pull on sheets behind her, needy moans leaves her lips every time he explored her, teases her. Her body cannot stay still when the pleasure was taking her higher. But it was not a problem for Bucky to control. Whenever she tries to close her thighs together, he stopped her. He didn't want to irritate her wounds or cause any pain, so he kept pushing her thigh open as he nuzzle his face into her pussy.

"Ahhh fuck ,, that feels so good, Bucky!" She moaned his name as the overwhelming feeling of his wet and soft tongue gliding and rubbing on her core, guiding her to heaven.

And the salacious squelching noises to fill the room as Bucky laps and sucks on her clit. She was so wet that he could just shove his fingers up in her hole but he didn't. He won't. After so many days not tasting her, he want to only use his mouth.

Though the man barely spoke during these times, he’d much rather keep his mouth occupied with drinking up her juices or suckling on her cute little clit. But when he does. Fuck. Does he spill the most unholy things.

Bucky momentarily detached himself from her and rasped, "Gonna cum, babydoll? Come on, give it to me. Let me drink and lick your cum after." His metal fingers quickly finds her clit, swiftly started to deliciously rub it; just the way he knew she liked it. It felt so good that her tongued lolled out her mouth out of pure pleasure.

"Yeah, bunny. You're gonna let me clean you up with tongue so nice, so that you can make the same mess again and again. Cum in mouth, babydoll. Cum for me"

He delved right back where is mouth belongs, licking her clit into his mouth just to wrap his lips around the pretty pink bundle of nerves sucking it harshly. She whined needily her hips started to move on its own accord, searching for more friction of his tongue, “ahh ahh! hmmmm,, s-so fucking good! ahhh,, So close!” she was seeing stars in her hazy vision from how good and dirty she felt.

Bucky's eyes almost rolled back when let out a groan of satisaction against her spread out cunt; he can feel that she was going to cum and want her to do it with his mouth latched on her.

And cum she did, moments after she couldn’t help but squeal as her back arched from the bed, grinding herself on his tongue. Bucky growled at the streams of cream squirting out of her throbbing cunt right into his mouth, down to his throat.

So sweet and warm and addictive.

While her whole body was still shaking from the aftermath of the mindblowing orgasm, Bucky continued to lick and lap on her leaking pussy, slurping and suckling every bit of cream she had blessed him with.

Yet he was still hungry.

She mewled when Bucky started to suck on her clit again and when she looked over at him, he momentarily pulled away, "oh doll, did you forget? I'm not going to stop any time soon. So just lay there, look pretty for me and let me enjoy this sweet little pussy."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Have you ever gotten your inner thighs chafed? Anyway, thanks for spending your time to reading my work! Leave your thoughts behind, I'd love to read them ♡

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky smut #bucky fluff #avenger!bucky #bucky x reader smut

2K notes · View notes

baldursgate3tempobsessed · 8 months

Note

Your stories have definitely scratched that Astarion itch that I've had since I started the game!

One thing that's diffently not sat right with me at the end of the game, is how tav and the gang don't run after astarion after he loses his immunity to the sun. I would imagine that if the player character was romantically involved with the guy they would atleast try to shield or comfort the poor guy. A short drabble on that would be awesome!

That's so sad, I heard that's what happens 😭😭 I'm in act 3 and haven't had to see it for myself yet so yes, let's do some preemptive therapy there! And just warning since I haven't beaten the game yet I'm sure this will be inaccurate as fuck, but also with spoilers somehow ~

It was an exhilarating feeling, to win against all odds. One that Astarion had never been confident he would experience. It felt good, final. The official beginning of his new free life, even if it was bittersweet.

This was the bitter part, the end of his illithid protection. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and the burn was already starting. He was being an idiot, standing there with the rest of you like he belonged, waiting for the last possible second before he had to scuttle down in the darkness. But he wanted to see this out. Hadn't he earned that right?

According to the laws of reality, no. No he hadn't, because you had barely opened your mouth before the pain started to overwhelm him. The others would be able to hear it, the sickening sound of his skin crackling.

He was out of time. But before he could make a break for it, you happened. Astarion had been a little preoccupied with his impending doom to pay close attention to what you had been mumbling. But then sudden blackness was blanketing above your heads, opaque enough to make it as dark as night.

Astarion's eyes widened as the pain subsided, surprised beyond belief.

You were looking at him with concern in your eyes, gesturing to the think cloud of darkness above your head, "Will this be dark enough? Can it still get through?"

Astarion stared at you, momentarily confused on why you would do something like that. Before he remembered, oh. Yes. The extended care for his well-being was probably included in the whole love thing. Of course. Obviously.

That was definitely going to take some getting used to.

But the reasoning didn't stop an idiotic smile from blooming on his face.

You grinned back at him, somehow still managing to read his mind even without the tadpoles, "Did you really think I would forget about you?"

He had, but through no fault of your own. One of these days he was going to actually remember that he was worth the effort to keep alive.

"Thank you darling," Astarion said, ignoring the quested as he waltzed up to you. He grabbed your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss, "Just what would I do without you?"

"Speaking of," You turned to the Emperor, a question in your eyes as you vaguely waved upward, "Is there anything we can do about this particular problem?"

"The astral tadpole is still-"

"I'll pass on that, thank you very much," Astarion interrupted, cringing at the very thought of willingly letting another worm into his brain, "But I appreciate the thought."

There were worse things than living his life in darkness. And Astarion was counting becoming a mind flayer in the top three.

He watched, participated even in everyone's final goodbyes, always eyeing you at of the corner of his eye. It's not that he thought you would leave after you both declared your eternal love for each other, but... the two of you hadn't exactly talked about the specifics of the future either.

But that didn't stop you from leaving together. Astarion hadn't expected you to keep the dark cloud above his head as you walked the streets, startling nearly every passerby. But hells, the heroes of Baldur's gate had earned the right to a little strangeness.

You both had decided on going to the nearest, most windowless inn that you could find. Astarion wanted nothing more than to scrub the brain viscera from his skin and sleep for three days. Preferably with you in his arms.

But before all that... he had to know something.

The question was out of him as soon as you both were behind closed doors, "So what happens next to the great hero of Baldur's Gate? I'm sure you have something in mind."

He was just praying those future plans still involved him.

You blinked at him, head cocked like he was asking a silly question, "We go and find you a cure so you can walk in the sun again of course. What else would we do?"

That took Astarion aback, "I-Do you think that's really possible?"

"Well," You started, counting off on your fingers, "We know that illithid powers can do it. As well as devil contacts and ritualistic demon sacrifices. If that's all possible then that means there has to be something else on the other end of the spectrum, right?"

Astarion didn't exactly share your blind confidence. But you did have a point. The two of you had managed so many impossible feats in such a short amount of time. What was one more?

"I suppose there's a chance," Astarion said, hope fluttering in his chest with every word, "And if there is a chance no matter how small, I'm going to take it. But..."

He didn't want to ask, but he needed to know, "Are you sure this is what you want? I would... understand if you wanted to go your own way."

In all honesty, Astarion would not understand. He'd be absolutely furious. Especially after everything you'd been through. This was more of a confirmation for his waning self-confidence than anything else, versus a sincere to desire to let you go your own way. He had no intention of letting you go, not if he could help it.

But his near certainty in your feelings was the only thing that gave him the confidence to ask the question in the first place. And you did not disappoint.

"No, this is what I want," You insisted, reaching out to take his hand in yours, "You're what I want."

That was exactly what Astarion needed to hear. He used your joined hands to tug you closer, face to face.

"Good, because as selfless as I am, I really did not want to let you go," Astarion smiled, leaning in to lightly press a kiss to your lips, "I hope you realize that my love has made me a tad bit obsessed with you my dear."

"I'm sure it's no worse than me," You sighed, resting your forehead against his own, "You've really ruined me for anyone else haven't you?"

Astarion grinned, leaning in for another kiss. He had every intention of making it stay that way, for as long as you would have him.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #long fic #asks #im feeling these asks #a mix of real dialouge and orginial #i make them so touchy feely #i feel like he kind of would be #but i dont blame the game guess that would be so much to animate oh my god

1K notes · View notes

earthtooz · 3 months

Text

in which: al haitham gives you something on his birthday.

fluff, gn!reader, quick drabble for this special scholar's birthday ^-^

“As much as I appreciate these… heavy, complicated-sounding books, it’s your birthday, Al Haitham, I’m supposed to be giving you a gift.” You explain as you move all three books under one arm. Did he expect you to finish all of these any time soon?

Sure you enjoyed reading, but you’re not sure you can classify yourself in the same category as your bookworm-boyfriend who burrows himself in words whenever he can, hence, the intimidation you felt when he placed all of these in your arms.

“Just because you’re ‘supposed’ to give me a gift doesn’t mean I cannot gift one in return.” He counters, rationally and level-headed as ever. “Besides, you accepting these makes me satisfied with myself, and wouldn’t you say that emotional compensation is a gift in of itself?”

“There is no winning against you.”

He looks content with himself, crossing his annoyingly muscular arms over his chest with a slight smirk. “Looks like I can say ‘no’ to you.”

You roll your eyes at his comment. “Whatever. By the time I’m through with these, my arms will start looking like yours with the weight of these beasts for books.”

Wordlessly, he takes the pile from you, holding them comfortably with both hands and relieving the strain on you. “Shall I put these down somewhere for you?”

“Just on the coffee table will do.”

Your eyes linger a little longer on the way his muscles contract as he walks around your living room, and it’s as if he can feel your stare when he shouts at you from over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go to Lambad’s Tavern? Everyone else may be at Avidya Forest, but at this rate, we’ll be the last ones.”

“I hear you, I hear you,” you murmur, retreating to your bedroom.

***

A week and a half later, you find yourself relaxing with Al Haitham in the comfort of your living room again, your legs on his lap whilst his arms cage you there, a book in his hands. The cover, however, is awfully familiar, and you realise it’s one of the books he gifted you on his birthday that you were at most seven chapters through. Why was he reading it?

“I left my bookmark in there, did you take it out?” You ask, sitting up.

The ashen-haired raises a brow at you. “This is my copy.”

“What? Didn’t you get me that on your birthday?”

“I did. I got us both a copy, of the same edition.”

“Why?”

“Remember when you suggested that we should find more hobbies to share? This should be one of them.”

Blinking at him once, twice, three times, you burst out into a fit of giggles, enamoured by the antics of your deceivingly stoic boyfriend. Throwing your arms around his neck, the (smaller) book in your hands hits his shoulder, and you grin up at him. “You can be so silly, Al Haitham.”

Though the hobbies you had in mind looked something more like new activities neither of you had tried before, you're flattered that he wants to include you in something that he loves to indulge himself in.

“Silly? I thought this was a rather reasonable solution.”

He lets you squish his cheeks with one hand, eyes never straying from the contents of his page. You thank your lucky stars that you’re the one who gets to hold him like this, and that you’re the one he wants to read together with- in the most practical manner. “It can be both- it is both.”

“Are you enjoying it?”

“I am, but maybe you should slow down. You’re already half way through when I’m not even one-eighth of the way.”

“I’ll wait. We can talk about it when you’re done.”

“Is this new ‘hobby’ a satisfactory gift, Haitham?”

A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Most certainly.”

#earthtooz: genshin impact #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham fluff #al-haitham fluff #genshin x reader

805 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 21 days

Note

I have a request: insecure s/o is feeling down about their appearance, chubbyness and overthinking too much. Yandere preferable Silas/Dr. Kry is trying their best to comfort them ( 〃▽〃)

Silas & Dr Kry drabbles: darling feeling insecure about their appearance

Yandere!mafia x reader x yandere!doctor

Warnings: talking about weight, insecurity about appearance

A/N: I tried my best to not go into it too much because I know that it can be sensitive. I've tried to focus more on the comfort part<3

Silas

He opens the door too quickly. You flinch and try to hurry to wipe your tears. Wasn't he supposed to be out on a mission?

"I forgot my fucking keys-", he starts, but cuts himself off. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing", you whisper with your head turned away, hoping that he won't see your tear stained cheeks.

"Don't 'nothing' me, sweetheart. I fucking know when something's up."

He walks over to you and crouch down next to you on the floor. You flinch in fear and try to twist your head away, but he grabs it in his rough hand.

"Why are you crying, baby?" he asks , wiping your cheek with his thumb. "Tell me."

"I don't look good", you whisper in shame. You've been drowning yourself in the thoughts for so long that saying them out loud makes you embarrased. Escpecially when Silas looks at you with that look in his eyes — mezmerized by you.

He can't believe what you're saying, has to have a doubletake. "What?"

"... I don't look good."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

He rises to his feet and pulls you up on your feet, forcing you in front of the mirror.

"Do you see this?" he asks, gesturing with his hand towards you. "What about this does not look good?"

"My- ... my ... everything."

His jaw drops. "You've lost it. Little thing, you're absolutely magical? I can't even believe that you are real sometimes, and you dare think like this? I don't ever want to hear you talk shit again, not about my husband/wife, do you hear that?"

New tears blur your vision. You try to hold in the sob, but it aches throughout you. Silas turns you around and hugs you tightly as you cry against his collar bone.

"You're absolutely perfect", he tells you and strokes your back. "I don't want anything else than what I'm holding in my arms right now, do you understand that? I don't ever want you to think these idiotic thoughts again. I love you so much, for fuck sake. Oh, it hurts me to see you so upset. Baby ... you know what, I'll stay home tonight, my second in command will have to take my place. I can't let you be alone when you're mean to yourself. I will make sure that you know about how perfect you are until you believe me ... I don't care if that takes a week straight."

Dr Kry

"Doctor?" you ask quietly.

"Yes?" he asks and looks up from his check up list.

"Can we not ... check the weight today?"

He frowns. "Why?"

You squirm and avoid eye contact. Dr Kry sighs and puts down the paper on his desk.

"Have you been thinking things you shouldn't while I haven't been in your room?" he asks suspiciously. "In that case I want you to tell me now so that I can fix it."

"I don't like myself", you mumble and tug at your hospital gown. "How can I feel good when I look like this?"

"That's what it's about. I see." He takes your hands in his. "Y/N, look at me."

You glance up at his blue eyes through tears.

"Listen to me when i tell you this", he starts and wipes your tears, "you are perfectly good right where you are, okay? If the hospital gown makes you feel worse I will get you some pajamas or sweatset, okay?"

"It's not just that. My body ..."

"Oh, stop it. There's nothing wrong about your weight, Y/N. Nothing at all. Nothing wrong about you at all ... well, besides the reason why you are in the hospital. But nothing wrong about you aestethically. Personally, I think you are very attractive."

You blink in disbelief. "What? No."

Dr Kry smiles halfly. "Yes, I do. Listen, I don't want you thinking such nonsense about yourself, okay? And if you ever do, I want you to tell me so that I can reassure you of how good you are. You have nothing to worry about, this is all in your head, okay? Say it with me. 'It's all in my head'."

"It's all in my head ..."

"Good job."

To your surprise, he hugs you. The doctor who hates physical contact, actually hugs you.

"I know that the hours in here can become long and repetitive, but you mustn't let it affect how you think about yourself, okay? I think that you are absolutely perfect the way you are. You don't have to change anything."

He squeezes you tighter, persistent that he will make you see yourself the way he sees you — absolutely magnificent.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #yandere drabble

403 notes · View notes

tsukimefuku · 2 days

Text

bad dream ❖ kento nanami

summary: after a bad night filled with nightmares, nanami is glad to see you never left his apartment.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, nanami x reader, tooth rotting fluff, hurt and comfort.

wc: 600

notes, etc: small little drabble I wrote for self soothing purposes and decided to share.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

You were trying and failing miserably to make Kento an omelet before he woke up. You already dreaded the sight you had in front of you, fearing he might wake up with the smell of burnt egg.

Kento, however, wouldn’t wake up due to that, but due to something much more somber.

Once again, after you had spent the night with him, his sleep would be taken by the vivid nightmares of Haibara’s death and your near death experience mingling together in a senseless dream of gloom. Upon opening his eyes and not seeing you by his side, still half dazed and asleep, Nanami’s heart felt like a rock in his chest.

But by this time, he had learned his lesson.

He quickly stood up and walked to his room’s door, seeing you were already in the kitchen trying to make some breakfast.

Nanami began walking towards you in a quick stride, and you heard his footsteps, turning around to face him as you pulled the pan out of the stove top.

”I’m so sorry to wake you, I didn’t mean to, I was just trying-“

Before you could finish your sentence, though, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your frame. He had come desperately searching for the warmth and comfort from you, and was very glad that you hadn’t left his apartment that morning. His nose made its way towards your hair, and he nuzzled around, letting out a strained sigh from the depths of his lungs the moment he felt the flowery scent you usually carried around in your hair and clothes.

You smelled like plum blossoms.

“Kento? Is everything alright?” You inquired with a hint of concern to your voice as you hugged him back.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered against your hair before planting a kiss on your head. His voice sounded just as strained as his breathing.

What has gotten into him?

You waited patiently for his grip to loosen a little before you pulled back and looked at him. His usual impassive face was replaced by a soft pained frown. You cupped his face in your hands, feeling your heart ache a little for him, as Kento really seemed to be anguished.

“Kento, what happened?”

He gulped the sandy sensation in his throat, mouth falling slightly open without a sound coming out of it.

Given he had just come out of the room, you had a hunch, though.

“Did you have a nightmare or something like that?”

You weren’t a stranger to nightmares yourself, given the amount of trauma sorcerers were subject to on the daily. Some of them even featured Kento, much to your despair, until you were given the little mercy of waking up.

Kento simply leaned his face on your hands and nodded, his breath evening out as you both locked eyes for a moment.

“I won’t go anywhere if you don’t go anywhere,” you told him, brushing your thumbs down his cheeks, “just don’t push me away like you did that time and you can rest assured you will never get rid of me, okay?”

Kento sighed, relieved to hear you say that, and the faintest smile took over his expression, as he said, “I promise I won’t ever push you away again.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

It was your turn to smile, as you planted a soft kiss on his lips. One of his hands made its way to the nape of your neck and pulled you in, pressing your face gently against his shoulder.

“I’m glad,” you answered, letting your eyes fall shut as you both stood there hugging each other.

The burnt egg didn’t seem so bad now, after all.

End notes: I’m rewriting “The Event - Part 2” and needed some fluff to soothe myself. Hope this soothes you guys too.

375 notes · View notes

generalsmemories · 8 months

Note

hello jing yuan's wife!! congrats on 1k followers! you very much deserved it 😊 may i please request for jing yuan with angst scenario #5? thank you in advance!

Stubbornness

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompt used: needing to go to an event after a party and having to pretend as if they aren’t angry with one another the entire time || 1k event

✧ contents: established relationship, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, arguments cause yeehaw, however happy ending cause they are functioning adults, mentions of other characters

✧ a/n: the amount of times ya'll have called me jing yuan's wife at this point HAHAH. anyway! first drabble to kickstart the 1k event is a sort of angsty one because why not but ya'll remember that one book where the sanctus medicus had 5 operations to try and get rid of jing yuan? yeah have that back in mind. - also not beta-read but who is surprised at this point LMFAO

"... You could've died."

Jing Yuan snorts, adjusting the bracers on his forearms without even sparing you a glance, "But I'm here right now breathing, aren't I?" he quips back instead, almost sounding amused at your worry.

It infuriates you. It baffles you how little he truly cared about the situation and at the severity of it. The hair you had for once tried to style already messy by the amount of times you've ran a hand through it out of stress or frustration the past two hours.

You're so glad you made Yanqing leave earlier to assist where it was necessary.

"Do you honestly see this as a mere joke, Jing Yuan?" you sneer, arms crossed whilst leaning one side against the doorframe. He must already know what you're referring to, being that you had finally opened the report handed to you from today - a report telling that there was yet another attempt on his life.

Another attempt that he didn't want to tell you about.

"Quite the contrary," he says, turning around to finally face you. His smile is still present on his lips which only serves to make you more agitated, "Nothing happened as you can see, and I'm perfectly fine. As such I didn't see the need to tell you about it because nothing happened. I wasn't even at the Artisanship Commission like they thought-"

"Because you got delayed."

He sighs, crossing his arms as well and cocking his head to the side, "Dear, with the amount you're worrying about me it makes me believe you have no trust in my capabilities to protect myself. Am I right to assume that?" he questions, his smile fading a bit after he had asked.

"Where the hell did you even get that from- Can I not worry about my lovers safety even when I'm aware of his swordmanship?" you ask, clicking your tongue whilst running yet another hand through your strands.

"And I'm telling you that it is a needless worry-"

"You're fucking unbelievable," you scoff, turning around to head for the entrance of your home, Jing Yuan quirking an eyebrow at your retreating form, "Oh? You're not going to nag at me further?" he asks, his tone may be lighthearted, but even you can pick out the slight bite it has to it.

"Even looking at you right now makes me want to punch you. The fact that you can't even see where I'm coming from is unbelievable enough, so fine! I won't worry more about our dear general," you bite back, slamming the door shut once you're at the other side.

You can come up with an excuse as to why the two of you arrive separately - it wouldn't be the first time after all.

"You must be quite delighted that the expedition finished earlier than planned, right [Name]?" Master Gongshu asks, handing you a glass and immediately clinking his own against it before taking a sip, "Even the tiny lieutenant made more of a name to himself out there."

You snicker, swirling the contents of the drink before you, stealing a brief glance over at Jing Yuan who is surrounded himself, "Indeed, I'm quite relieved to see him and Yanqing safely return to the Luofu."

Even though there was immediately another attempt on his life the moment he stepped one foot back onboard.

"But say, aren't you a bit saddened that the general haven't been by your side as much today? He's practically surrounded by the other commissioners and knights," master Gongshu points out, to which you only shake your head, "Why of course not, as long as I know that my husband is safe - I wouldn't have to worry about anything," you say - a bit louder than needed.

You know Jing Yuan heard you.

He kept his attention solely on the people before him though, not even sparing you a glance.

The sight makes you let out another loud sigh, bringing the glass to your lips only to immediately drink it in one gulp, Master Gongshu snickering beside you while calling another waiter over, "Oho, I see you're rearing to go so early! This is indeed what a celebration feast is about!" Master Gonshu roars, his laughter having been a bit too loud to attract the attention of other people, who merely snickered at his own energy.

Jing Yuan only narrowed his eyes, eyebrows furrowing in displeasure at your comment. It seems like you still haven't cooled down. But as soon as he heard his name get called, he was all smiles again, "Aren't you worried that [Name] is going to drink too much, general?" a solider jokingly asked, raising his own glass to have a toast with the general. Jing Yuan merely let out a low chuckle, "Of course not, and even if they were to, I'm here to take care of them."

At this point, the master diviner had made herself to your side with a few snacks - just in time to see your expression twist for a split second upon hearing what Jing Yuan said, letting out a laugh yourself, "Oh, don't worry dear. I know how to take care of myself, so there's no need for you to needlessly worry like this!"

She can practically sense the animosity between you two that no one else in the room has apparently picked up on.

But Fu Xuan does admit that seeing Jing Yuan's perfectly crafted smile twitch a bit in annoyance while his eyebrows furrowed a tiny bit did bring her satisfaction - a taste of his own medicine.

So while master Gongshu have wandered off to get a refill, she makes her way over to you with a raised eyebrow, "Trouble in paradise?" she asks lowly, you merely huff in return - turning around to lean on the fence, staring at the various starskiffs in the air, "... No."

"I applaud you for still wanting to lie in front of me," Fu Xuan comments, placing the tray of various snacks beside you for your perusal - you don't grab anything, already lost in thought.

"Is it a needless worry?" you end up asking, Fu Xuan having leaned against the fence herself while having her body turned to face you, "About what? His safety? Yes and no."

"Gee, that helps a lot."

"He's a general, [Name]. An attempt on his life is unfortunately common sense, moreso at this time too being that he had just returned from an expedition and would be by some standards - exhausted and have his senses dulled."

"So why-"

"But it's also because he is a general that precautions are taken. Even if he got delayed or not before coming to the Artisanship Commission, the Cloud Knights stationed had already intercepted the attempt - he would've still been safe."

You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from blurting anything more. In hindsight you were perfectly aware that Jing Yuan would be fine - but you're pretty sure there's not a single lover out there who would not worry about their own husbands' safety if his head had once again been targeted - even if it had been yet another failed attempt.

Before you can admit your wrongdoings to Fu Xuan, you feel an arm slither around your waist - delicate lips pressing against your temple, and from the faint breath Jing Yuan lets out, you can tell he's had a few more to drink than you in the span of your conversation with Fu Xuan.

"... I thought you didn't like to drink that much," you say softly, turning around in his hold only to be met with a smile, "And I thought you weren't going to speak to me?" he whispers back. You merely huff and let his head fall down to your shoulder, sending Fu Xuan a pleading gaze to which she immediately gets without you needing to say anything more - walking over to the crowd of onlookers to step in for both you and Jing Yuan.

"I am still mad," you finally utter after a few minutes of silence between the two of you.

"Whatever can I do to make my beloved not mad at me then?" he asks back in a whisper, careful to not let anyone else hear the two of you. You can tell from your peripheral vision that he's turned his head to face you, although you keep your gaze facing forward.

"Admit you were wrong," you huff, Jing Yuan letting out a low chuckle at how you're still holding onto that stubborness, "I'm pretty sure I saw that you were about to admit that you were wrong to the master diviner, no?"

You don't answer, merely looking away in a silent defiance. The sight making Jing Yuan sigh in amusement, "Alright, I'm sorry dear. I'll make sure to tell you in the future whenever I feel something amiss," he says in the end - but before you can accept that apology, he quickly adds on.

"In return, I do hope you tell me whenever the disciples also target you."

.... Oh.

"... You know you could've made me inform you in any other way than having us argue?" you state, back to your moody self - the switch in mood making your husband laugh, "Not such a great feeling being left in the dark, is it?" he reminds you - and you hate how effective this sort of method is.

So your only reply is to wrap your arms around his waist, "I'm sorry," You can feel his body shake with laughter, his own arms wrapping around your shoulders before you feel his lips pressing themselves at the top of your head, "Now stop being mad, because these few hours were quite tortuous for me."

"You just say that because I usually do all the talking."

"Precisely."

struggled with that ending for 3 days man.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr x you #star rail x reader #star rail x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #x reader #reader insert #generalsmemories 1k event

1K notes · View notes

starjaeyun · 2 months

Text

gatekeeper — tsukishima kei !

— tsukishima assures that he is not embarrassed of dating you, you think otherwise

warning/s : fem! reader, misunderstanding 😁 & a small fight at the beginning, profane language, tinsy bit of angst, fluff & crack from the second half ‘til it ends

note : had this little idea while writing a kageyama drabble so they might be quite similar

“just give up already”

y/n’s tip-toeing came to a stop. seriously? this was the 4th time this week! with an annoyed groan, she turns around, fists clenched, brows furrowed, and it looks as though a tick mark was formed on her forehead. behind her stood her oh so loving boyfriend, tsukishima kei, who somehow always catches her trying to sneak in the volleyball gym.

“oh c’mon kei! why won’t you let me watch your practice?!” tsukishima sighed, “we’ve talked about this” he grumbled, why does she have to be so stubborn?

“don’t talk like those romanticized, toxic boyfriends on wattpad!” y/n hits his arm, which barely does any damage to him, “and don’t act like them as well!”

tsukishima raises a hand to fix his glasses, “are you saying i’m toxic?”

“i never said that! i just said don’t talk and act like—”

“so you’re implying it?”

“well, you’re going to be if you carry on with that bullshit!” tsukishima grows silent and stares at y/n, who had seemed to be reaching the highest point of her annoyed meter, which would then slowly escalate into anger.

after a few seconds of silence, he spoke, “take these, don’t wait for me and go home. cool your head” in each of his hands were his hoodie and an umbrella, which he brought with him on the way to the gym incase it might rain before they’re able to go back to the locker rooms. with y/n giving no sign of taking it, he placed it on her foot and carried on walking past her.

“i don’t understand you” tsukishima comes to a halt, looking back almost immediately upon noticing y/n’s change of tone. crap, was i too harsh?

“why are you acting like that if you’re embarrassed of me?” he couldn’t tell whether she’s sad or angry.

“acting? acting like what? and what do you mean embarrassed?!” his tone immediately gave away his nervousness.

“in school or when you’re with someone else, you avoid and act like you don’t know me but when we’re alone, suddenly you’re taking care of me! make it clear whether you love me or not to save both our time because i am not about to start losing myself for a boy who can’t love me the way i deserve!” it’s clear that she wanted to say more so tsukishima stayed silent. “if you’re going to love me, at least be honest with me! am i embarrassing or not?!”

“of course not!”

“then why?!” it was a miracle that y/n was not crying nor shouting at the moment.

tsukishima fully turns his body this time, “what’s embarrassing is my explanation…” and the mood suddenly lightens.

“TSUKISHIMA, YOU BASTARD!” tanaka and nishinoya’s yelling made tsukishima sigh.

“you call me selfish but keep shimizu-senpai’s sister all to yourself” kageyama grumbles

tsukishima stands still. hands clasped together behind his back and head bowed down. he looks like a child getting a scolding, or how the the freak duo looks whenever daichi catches their slip ups.

nishinoya and tanaka kneels in front of the first year. head bowed down as if they were praising him, and that they are.

“on this day, we honor you. congratulations on getting a shimizu!” they say in unison.

“you’re overreacting” tsukishima simply says.

“nope, i, too, would congratulate you tsukki. no offense, but you’re not exactly the ideal boyfriend” yamaguchi says with a finger under his chin.

“mhm! so you better treat her right tsukishima! she’s like our little sister” sugawara’s smile does not look comforting at all.

“call me if you need help in buying gifts!” daichi volunteers happily.

“and me if you need advice!” asahi adds.

“why are you guys taking my job?” shimizu comments while giggling. “but, i do think that tsukishima is just right for my little sister” she turns to look at her sister who was now playing around with kageyama and hinata, “she’s as chaotic as those two, he’ll be able to handle her. so i trust that i won’t have to worry much?”

“of course” tsukishima didn’t seem like himself at the moment. his eyes seemed to have soften at the sight of his girlfriend. he smiled, though not too obvious.

“why are you smiling like a male lead in a drama?” tanaka teased. and though tsukishima hates expressing his emotions to his teammates, he certainly loves poking their annoyance scale, “because this is what it’s like to love and be loved”

“Why are you making it seem like kiyoko does not love me back! she does love me! right? right?” tanaka gave kiyoko hopeful eyes and received no response aside from her turning around.

“I’m not talking about platonic love”

“WHY YOU—“

“KEI!” apparently, while he successfully annoyed the second year, his girlfriend heard what he said and would definitely never let it go.

“when have you been so sweet?! love and be loved? seriously?!” she bounced up and down, hands on tsukishima’s shoulder for support.

“she’s no different from the freak duo, i’m afraid” sugawara comments and laughs along with the third years.

“but am i really that beautiful that you had to gatekeep me from your entire team?” she laughed, still bouncing, and tsukishima only stood there with his smile never seeming to fade.

“if that were me i’d be receiving his train of insults by now” hinata says, joining the rest of the team as they watched how tsukishima seemed to be a lot softer around y/n.

“you’re such a gatekeeper kei!” she teased, this time, she stopped bouncing and have started poking her boyfriend’s sides.

“that he is! how dare he gatekeep kiyoko-san’s sister?!” tanaka kneeled back down on one knee with a hand on his chest.

nishinoya followed suit, “and what’s annoying is that she reciprocated his love!”

743 notes · View notes

tasteleeknow · 1 year

Text

ZIPPER

PAIRING: minho x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. established relationship. CONTENT: 18+ only. shy reader. marking. desperation. mutual obsession. unprotected intercourse. biting. body worship. overstimulation. mention of violence. oral (m. rec). WORD COUNT: 4.3k

NOTE: yeah it’s my birthday tomorrow and i wrote this as a gift to myself. @lino-nyangi and @tasteracha encouraged this. no other comment at this time.

SUMMARY: when your boyfriend asks you what you want for your birthday, only one thing comes to mind. you want to dress him in an outfit of your choosing.

PART ONE | DRABBLE: SWEAT | PART TWO

You’re backed up against the wall when the door opens, mentally preparing yourself for seeing him in the outfit you’d picked out. He’d laughed as you’d explained what you wanted for your birthday, eyes on the floor at the embarrassment of it all. You wanted to go out and pick an outfit and have him wear it for you. He only ever wore baggy pants, t-shirts and hoodies. You love him in whatever he wore but he never showed off all the work he’d put in at the gym. Despite his relentless teasing at your request, he’d agreed. Of course he agreed. He always did. He might act like everything was the biggest inconvenience he’d ever faced in his life, but he hadn’t turned you down once since you’d been together. You’d learned that’s just how he was. He never wanted anyone to know how much he cared.

He looks up at you the moment the bedroom door shuts behind him, tugging his pants up his waist a little. You press your lips together as he looks at you expectantly.

“Well?” he prompts.

You say nothing, taking in the sight of him in the tight, black, short sleeve shirt. It clings to him just like you’d imagined. He’d whined and thrown his head back as you’d measured him a few weeks earlier, slipping the measuring tape around his bare chest and then around his biceps. You wanted to get this right. He’d made you give him a back massage in return for all his saintly patience. It was worth it now you’re taking in the results. Your eyes trail down his matching black pants to his big black boots, you can't make yourself regret the money you’d spent on them: despite it being the most you’d spent on shoes in a long time. Your cheeks warm as you fail to meet his eyes again, keeping your gaze on his boots as he makes his way over to you.

“No comment?” he questions. You can hear the smirk in his voice. He was in his comfort zone, despite the clothes unlike anything he’d tried before. You had always been a little timid, overwhelmed easily. He approached the world very differently, self assured and confident. Only the people closest to him ever got to know his weak points, his soft centre and secret insecurities.

He tilts your chin up when he reaches you, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Disappointed?” he asks, well aware you weren’t. You knew he enjoyed it when you got shy, it boosted his ego.

“It’s pretty.”

He grins, tracing his finger down your neck to your clavicle. “That’s it?”

Your eyes drop to the zipper running down his chest. “You look nice. You look… better than I imagined. Thank you,” you say, offering him a small smile.

“This is all you wanted? For me to put some clothes on? I was hoping to spend the day without any at all.”

That’s how he’d asked to spend his birthday; locked in your bedroom until you’d been so exhausted you’d both passed out. “You think your dick is a gift?” you question.

His hand moves to your throat, fingers resting gently against your skin. “Only because you whine my name so sweetly when it’s inside you,” he answers, one corner of his mouth pulling up slightly as his eyes drop to your lips. He was lucky his ego only made him hotter. Still, it was fun to tease him.

“You think it’s special? A dick is a dick.”

His finger presses a little into your skin as he moves a little closer. “Oh, really?” he asks sweetly, a little condescension in his tone. “Is that why you get all shy on me? Even after living together for a year? Hm?”

“That’s just how I am.”

He shakes his head slightly, lips ghosting over yours. “I don’t think so, baby. I think it’s worse with me. I think you get all shy because you’re obsessed with me…” his lips brush yours as he speaks, breath tickling your skin. “Isn’t that right?”

You’re struggling to focus on his words, head tilting forward a little in an attempt to capture his lips. He only pulls away, keeping you pressed to the wall easily. “Answer me,” he whispers.

You blink as you attempt to regain your senses, reaching up to take his hand from your throat and intertwining your fingers instead. You find yourself staring at his lips again, watching as he huffs out a short breathy laugh. “Why’d you want me to wear this, hm? Can you answer that?” he asks.

Your eyes drop to the zip running down his chest. It feels involuntary and your eyes flick back up to his face so quick you’re hardly aware of the action yourself. He notices anyway, his lips pulling into a self-satisfied smirk. He reaches up to tug the zipper a little, moving it up and down slightly as he watches your expression. He lifts the hand intertwined with yours, pressing the back of your hand into the wall above your head. You’ve completely lost control of your breathing, uneven and much heavier than normal. You were easy to read. A stranger would be able to read your thoughts, but Minho? He knew you better than anyone else alive. You may as well have been screaming your internal commentary in his face.

“You wanna do it for me, baby? Tug it down a little?” he asks sweetly, lips hovering over yours again. When you lean forward, he doesn’t pull away this time, letting you press a little of your desperation into him. He hardly reacts, keeping your hand above your head as you moan against his lips. Your other hand moves to the back of his head, an attempt to ensure he doesn’t move away from you again until you're satisfied. It’s silly, the idea that you’d ever be satisfied, that you’ll at some point have had enough of him. You imagine pulling back, tapping him on the shoulder and announcing you’re all done. You giggle against his mouth.

“What?” he asks.

“I think you’re right,” you answer, a little breathless already.

“Mm?”

You don’t answer, attempting to pull him back towards you again instead. He takes your other hand in response, pinning you against the wall completely. “Right about what?” he asks, unsatisfied with your lack of response. He knows what you meant. You know he knows. He just wanted you to say it.

“What you said before,” you mutter, keeping your eyes off his own.

“I think you should say it,” he grins. “Say it and I’ll let you take over. I’ll let you unzip me.”

You can’t help looking into his eyes, big and brown as he waits for you to confess. If only he knew why you were so hesitant to say it. Sure, it was embarrassing. But it was more than that. You’d always felt a little like you loved him more. You were okay with it, or… you’d thought you were anyway. He loved you enough to stay, and that should have been enough. But confessing it to his face? Confessing that you felt like you were practically obsessed with him in a way he couldn’t possibly return? Your heart thumps hard against your chest at the thought of it.

His lips press to your forehead as your mind races, hands still held above your head. “I know it,” he whispers. “Whether you say it or not. That’s one of the things… one of the things I love. I fucking know it all, baby. You can’t hide from me.”

The way he’s leaning over you now causes the silver zipper to dangle directly in front of your face. You're sick of all this talk, especially when he’s dressed like this. With your hands occupied there’s only one plan of action that fills your mind. You duck a little, avoiding his head as you lean forward and catch the cold, silver zipper between your teeth. His chest moves with his laughter, then you’re tugging, pulling it down until a large portion of his chest is free. When you lean back again you don’t even look up at his face, eyes taking in the newly visible section of his smooth chest. You hadn’t been fighting him at all so far. You never did, letting him pin you to walls, to mattresses, move you around whichever way he pleased. It was your dynamic.

That’s why he isn’t expecting it, when you tug your hands free and practically lunge at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He laughs as he stumbles back a step. Then he’s turning you around so he can use the wall as support while you climb him. Your lips are on his neck before his back has hit the wall, attempting to suck marks into his skin. He was usually the one doing it to you: marking you. He liked pulling your scarf down a little as you waited for the bus, inspecting some of the hickies he’d left on you the night before. “Okay, you like the clothes,” he laughs. “I get it.” His hands support your thighs as you cling to him.

He’s quiet as you work, even when you begin nipping at his skin. It’s satisfying, sucking and biting at him. You should do this more often, you tell yourself. When you tug the shirt aside a little to bite gently into his shoulder he drops his head back against the wall with a small thud. It spurs you on, completing the same treatment to the other side before dropping your legs back to the floor.

His chest has flushed a little since you climbed him, a pretty red colour starting at his neck and disappearing into his shirt. You press your hand to the centre of his chest as he lifts his head from the wall and looks down at you with a small slightly dazed smile. A single strand of hair falls across his forehead. You’d helped him style his hair before leaving him to get dressed. He rarely wore it up like this, off his forehead.

“I meant I’m obsessed with you,” you confess before you can overthink it, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. “When I said you were right. I meant about me being obsessed.”

His grin widens as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him. “Yeah?”

You nod, tracing your finger down his nose and then over his lips, ending at his chin. “Don’t hurt me, please,” you whisper, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable. He knew the power he had now.

“Why would I do that?” he asks, looking genuinely puzzled.

You shrug. “You might stop liking me.”

“No,” he answers simply.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “You wanna go grab a knife and stab me in the leg and then ask me if I still like you?”

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Good, that’d hurt.”

You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, interlocking your fingers. “You’re stupid.”

“Is it embarrassing? To be obsessed with someone so stupid?”

“Yes.”

He grins. “You better stop then.”

Your eyes flick across his face. “I can’t.”

His smile softens a little before falling off his face completely. He suddenly looks serious, almost solemn. It catches you off guard. Before you can question him he’s tugging your mouth to his, distracting you with his soft lips. It works like a mind wiping spell, lulling you into a blissed out state that only breaks when he finally releases you.

Your finger brushes his zipper, reminding you of the clothes he was wearing. You take a small step back so you can take in the sight of him again. His chest is still a little red and you can just make out the marks you’ve left all over his neck. You want to make more.

He’s still as you move in again and tug the zipper down a little more. You move slowly, wanting to savour it. Your mind drifts to when you can ask him to wear it again. Anytime, you remind yourself. You could count the time’s he’d refused something you’d asked of him on one hand. You press your palms to his chest, sliding them into his shirt until you brush over his nipples. He’s warm, despite the low temperature of the apartment. You drop your head to his shoulder, hands slipping around his sides to rest on his back.

“I’m being very patient,” he says after a moment. “Are you going to keep feeling me up for another hour?”

“It’s my birthday.”

He sighs dramatically. You lift your head so you can see his face. “Is it really that bad?” you ask.

His lips press together into a straight line and two little lumps appear at the corners of his mouth. “Yes,” he answers, unconvincingly. You pull your hands from his shirt and take a small step back.

“Alright, I’ll stop then.”

He reaches for the zipper and tugs it all the way down, letting each side of the shirt fall open. “It’s your birthday,” he says. “So I'll let you continue.”

“No, no. I don’t wanna do anything you’re not enjoying.” You nod towards the kitchen. “You hungry?”

He steps towards you. “Continue,” he demands, no room in his tone for argument.

You wait a moment, letting him fret. Then you move. You nudge him back into the wall with a palm to his chest then trail your fingers from his collar bones down to the waistband of his pants, then back up again. You could lose yourself in this, touching him. Now that you’ve said it, confessed to him how you feel, it feels less heavy. It feels natural even. How could you not feel that way? When he made you laugh like he did… when he looked like this…

You find yourself pressing your lips to his pec, hand gripping his bicep to balance you as you trail messy kisses down his torso. You stop occasionally to leave marks, from sucking, biting, any mark you can leave against his skin feels like an accomplishment. This is mine, they say. Minho doesn’t seem to mind, one of his arms tanging in your hair at some point.

You eventually end up on your knees, looking up at him for permission as you play with another zipper, the one on his pants. “You haven’t marked me up enough?” he asks, his tone a little condescending again. You fucking loved when he spoke like that. His tone so sickly sweet and still so full of ego.

You shake your head and he reaches down, tugging his zipper down and dropping his pants before you can react. You can see him through his underwear, begging to be freed. He twitches a little as you brush over him when reaching for the waistband. Then you pause. His hips push off the wall when you take your hands away. You don’t look up, dropping your eyes to his thighs instead. Just a few marks, you tell yourself before attaching your lips to his skin. You start with his inner thighs, kissing and sucking your way up to the hem of his underwear where they wrap around the tops of his thighs. This wasn’t new to you. Just the other week you’d given him this treatment at the side of the salt water pool as he’d dangled his legs in the water. You’d taken in the sight of his swim shorts stuck to his skin, wet from his swim, and found yourself practically worshipping him—standing in the water between his legs as you kissed over his thighs.

By the time you finally tug his underwear down his legs, you can tell he’s close to snapping, to taking control. He wasn’t used to letting you have your way for this long. But then you’re kissing his tip, tasting the precum that leaks from his slit, and he forgets his impatience—a small gasp escaping his lips. His thighs are where you rest your hands. You can feel every tense of his muscles like this. You’re just preparing to sink down the length of him when he’s suddenly tugging you back and falling over you, pressing you into the floorboards. His mouth is on yours before you even process where you find yourself: on your back on your living room floor. He’s clearly had enough. The zipper on his shirt tickles your skin where your tank top rides up your stomach.

“Want me inside now? Tell me,” he says, barely pulling his lips from yours long enough to get the words out.

You hum in response, pushing at his chest until he detaches from you. “On your back,” you gasp. His brows pull a little together in confusion. He was rarely under you. Still, he obeys, settling himself on the floor beside you.

His pants are bunched around his calves, too difficult to remove with his boots still on. You kinda of like the idea of it, of him being inhibited a little. He’s a little vulnerable like this. Usually you loved the dynamic you had, his dominant role in bed making you feel protected and wanted. But something had burst free along with the confession of the depth of your feelings. You hadn’t realised you’d been holding anything else back. Not until now. You tug your cotton shorts down your legs and climb over him, pressing your palms to his chest as you settle yourself on his thighs. The open shirt frames his chest and biceps perfectly. You’re only running your hands over him for 30 seconds or so before he’s whining.

“Enough. Take me inside now.”

“It’s my birthday. Not yours.”

“You haven’t fondled me enough?”

You scrunch your nose, huffing out a small laugh. “Fondled?”

He gestures to where your palms rest over his pecs. “What else would you call this?”

“Admiring.”

He rolls his eyes. “You haven’t admired me enough?”

You shake your head, smiling. “No.”

“Get on with it then,” he says, a little strain in his voice.

You flick your eyes down to his cock. It’s twitching a little against his stomach. You brush your fingers up the length of him, fascinated. He grabs your wrist before you reach the head. “Don’t touch unless you want this to end.”

You stick out your bottom lip a little. “But it’s my birthday.”

He releases you. “Fine, you want me to cum on my stomach? Go ahead.” It did sound nice, seeing him lose it all over himself before you’d even fucked him. But he was right. You wanted him to fill you. You take him in your grasp and lift your hips off him so you can shuffle forward a little until your entrance rests over the tip. You take in the sight of him one last time, his flushed chest, his hair–a little messier than when you’d started—, the way the black shirt frames his biceps. Then you lower yourself, holding your breath as he stretches you out. His hips rise off the floor a little, like he can’t wait the few seconds it takes you to sink to his base.

You both still when you’re full, taking in the feeling of being as close to each other as it was possible to be. It’s the first time he’s been inside you since your confession. It feels freeing. Like you can let loose completely, let your mind slip and your body take over; hold nothing back. His lips part as you begin lifting yourself off him and sinking down again, slow at first.

You can’t help resuming where you’d left off, pressing your palms to his chest and admiring the way his pinkish skin looks between your fingers.

It isn’t long before his instincts take over, grasping your hips so he can move you to meet his hips as he thrusts up into you. You take in his expression as he uses you, rutting up into you. He was desperate much quicker than usual. He really hadn’t been lying. He must’ve been close to losing it before you’d even begun.

You watch his ears redden to match his chest and his lips. You fall forward to kiss him as he continues moving inside you. You keep your lips on his even as he loses focus, unable to match your kisses. You swallow down the noises he makes, the groans, the tiny sounds that almost sound like whimpers. It’s in moments like this that you feel maybe it’s possible he feels almost as intensely as you do. But then you remind yourself he’s just feeling good physically. That he could feel this way with anyone.

His eyes flutter closed as he stills. He hasn’t cum yet. He takes a few deep breaths before opening his eyes again. You can’t resist sitting back and lifting off him before sinking back down slowly, watching his expression as he tries to prevent himself from filling you. “Stop,” he gasps. “Fuck, stop.” You do.

You wait for him to catch his breath, chest rising and falling deeply. His ears are still pink and you resist the urge to lean forward and bite one of them.

“Why…” he starts, before pausing and taking one more deep breath. “Why are you doing this to me?”

You frown. “Doing what?”

He sits up, cock still buried inside you as he grasps the hair at the back of your head. His eyes flick over your face as his mouth opens and closes, like he’s struggling to find the words he wants to say. You’re unused to him being lost for words. It’s a little unsettling. Something must be wrong.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he snaps.

You attempt to wipe any expression from your face, waiting for whatever this was to pass. One minute you’re riding him on your living room floor, ready to feel him fill you with his cum. The next you’re attempting to dissect whatever the fuck he was attempting to say right now.

“We started living together a year ago today,” he says.

“...yes.”

“A year…” he repeats, almost like he’s talking to himself this time.

“Is something wrong?”

“I thought it’d pass,” he mutters.

“What would?” you ask, tucking a little hair behind his ear.

“Feeling like this. All fucking itchy and… desperate. Like if I let go of you or leave the apartment, you’ll just… disappear.”

You frown, attempting to process what he was saying. He almost sounded angry. Like you’d done something wrong. Or he had? His eyes flick across your face and then he sighs, releasing his grasp on your hair and falling down onto his back again.

You lay yourself down onto his chest, his cock slipping out of you in the process. “You don’t wanna live together anymore?” you ask.

His hands move to grab at your hips, attempting to lift you up again. You let him align his cock with your entrance before sinking back down. You resume your position over his chest, cradling his face in your palms. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before looking at you again. “I wanna live here,” he breathes. “Right fucking here. Buried inside you like this.”

“You’re confusing me.”

He grunts as he pins you to his chest with his arms and fucks up into you hard. “Need it,” he mutters between thrusts. “Fucking need you.”

“You have me,” you soothe. “I told you I was fucking obsessed with you. You have me.”

He sighs, expression relaxing as he rolls his cock into you. It catches you by surprise when he suddenly lets out a drawn out moan and fills you, hips stuttering into you. Something about the way he finishes, the words it had taken to finally push him over the edge. It clicks into place, what he was trying to say. He feels the same. You sit back, watching him attempt to catch his breath as you start bouncing on him. His eyes flutter open as a high whine escapes his throat. You’d never done this before, kept using him after he’d finished. He’s clearly unprepared, throwing his arm over his eyes as his hips rise weakly off the floor. You practically shake as you cum, clenching around his sensitive cock and falling forward onto his chest.

“Fuck,” he gasps out.

His blushed ear catches your eye and you muster just enough energy to take it between your teeth briefly.

“Say it,” you murmur once you release him. “Say what you mean.”

His arms wrap around you, holding you against his chest, now sticky with sweat. “Do I need to say it?” he says, completely breathless.

“It’s my birthday,” you whisper.

His hands move to your head, lifting your face from his neck. “I love you,” he says, “It scares me how much.”

You’re pretty sure you understand him. That he meant something different to the previous time’s he’d said he loved you. There was something about his voice, a tiny wobble in the final syllable that convinced you maybe you weren’t alone in this.

“We’re keeping the shirt,” you say, offering him a small smile.

He laughs, letting you fall back into his shoulder. “I dunno if I can survive what it does to you.”

“You can pick an outfit for me?” you offer.

He’s quiet and it isn’t until you’ve both fully caught your breaths that he speaks again. “Anything?”

You lift your head and peck him on the lips. “Anything.”

He smiles.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ general masterlist

5K notes · View notes

kittenintheden · 5 months

Text

sip the tea

lol I dunno it's a smutty drabble, enjoy.

Rating: E Word Count: >1k Content: 18+, temperature play, blowjob, mild cumplay

---

Astarion's reading in his usual spot by the fireplace, posture relaxed, leaning his head on one hand. You approach with a steaming mug. He glances up and gives you a smile.

"What's that, love?" he says.

"Peppermint tea," you respond, setting it on the side table beside him.

He looks at it, then back at you. "Erm. Sweet, but you know I don't really drink tea. It all tastes like ash water."

"I know," you say, moving around in front of his chair and going to your knees. You run your hands up the tops of his thighs and his book droops a bit in his hand as he gives you a knowing look.

"It's not for you," you say with a smile as you go to undo his laces.

"What are you up to?" Astarion purrs as he lifts his hips for you to slide his soft trousers and smallclothes down his toned thighs. "Not that I'm complaining."

"I was making myself a cup and I had a thought," you reply, running light fingers over his cool skin, lighting up the areas over his thighs, his abdomen, his pelvis. His soft cock stirs, arousal waking. His hand falls over the side of the chair, book forgotten and dangling from his fingertips, eyes half-lidded as he watches you tease.

You hold his eye as you lean forward and take him in your mouth, encouraging him harder. Astarion gives a soft groan of approval, fingers of his free hand reaching out to play with your hair.

"Still not sure what the tea's for," he breathes. The soft skin of his cock goes taut in your mouth, his erection coming to full mast. You press your tongue firmly along the underside as you slide off of him, amusement in your eyes as you blow on his spit-slick skin.

"Ooooh," he murmurs with a lilt, his erection jumping a little at the sensation. "But why'd you stop?"

You raise an eyebrow at him and reach for your tea, the ceramic cup nearly too warm to touch, and sip a careful mouthful. It's still quite hot, but not scalding. Cooled just enough to comfortably hold it in your mouth, which you do, allowing the soft and tender flesh inside to grow warmer than your natural heat allows. The mint tingles on your tongue. Astarion watches, intrigued. You smirk as best you can with your mouth full.

Then you swallow and immediately take him fully into your mouth again.

"Holy-" Astarion growls, throwing his head back and involuntarily arching his hips up, deeper, seeking the molten heat that is your mouth, heightened even more against his own cooled skin. He hits the back of your throat and you give a small cough, a tear forming at the corner of one eye.

You pull away, saliva and his clear pre-fluid connecting your lips to the head of him, and say, "Too much?"

Astarion's chest heaves and he blows out his breath as he tilts to look down at you, an inferno in his eyes. He shakes his head.

You grin. "Good." You take another sip and go again.

He melts under you, one leg twitching a bit from overwhelm as the rest of him sinks deep into the cushions of his favorite armchair. His head lolls to the side and he pants, his tongue moving barely past his bottom teeth as he watches you work him, eyes hooded. You twist your head and swirl your tongue, warming every bit of him. Each time you pull off to reheat your mouth with more tea, you see the head of his cock swollen and flushed pinker than usual.

He whines when you leave and squirms when you return. Sweat begins to bead along his forehead.

"Darling," he whispers at last, his thighs tensing on either side of you. "Oh, darling, keep it up and I won't last another minute."

You take your time, keeping him right on the edge until you go for one last mouthful of tea, keeping a little in your mouth this time as you swallow him down. He twists his fingers in your hair and whines out a reedy, "I'm going to come, I'm going to come, I'm coming-"

And he does, salted spunk mingling with the peppermint still on your tongue. You swallow it all, helping him ride it out to the last. When you pull back, peering up at him with your mouth wet and pink, he's collapsed bonelessly in the chair, still staring out at you from half-closed eyes. His throat bobs.

Then he reaches out, quick as a blink, and palms the back of your head to bring your lips to his, his tongue delving into you to taste that last bit of mint and heat and slick.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion gets head

647 notes · View notes

tightjeansjavi · 3 months

Text

The Rite of Movement | drabble

“creamy”

A/N: in anticipation for the suction cup dildo I ordered myself…😵‍💫

~word count: 750~

Summary: Joel watches as you fuck yourself with a dildo until he can’t help himself any longer.

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: none, fluff, smut, domestic intimacy, established relationship, deep profound trust, amateur porn video, praise kink, sir kink, language, dirty talk, f!masturbation with a sex toy, oral f receiving, unprotected piv, soft!dom joel, reader and Joel and are stupid in love, readers nickname is baby love, reader has no physical descriptions, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

Needy little hot breaths, and strained whines slip past your parted lips as you slowly work the thick, silicone dildo inside your slick, weeping little hole. A drool of your arousal drips down the crux of your thighs, staining the sheets beneath you. Your chest is glistening in beads of sweat, soft and glowing under the ambient lighting.

“Joel, please. I—I need more.” You whimpered, canting your hips upwards, desperate to feel more than what the ribbed silicone was giving you.

You had only recently grown accustomed to the idea of Joel being more of a dom towards you. It was baby steps in heed of the trauma you faced while working for Brazzers.

“Not yet, baby love. Keep workin’ yourself up. I know it ain’t as good as my cock, but you’re bein’ such a good girl, baby. Fuckin’ yourself so good on that cock. Wish you could see how pretty your pussy looks from this angle.” He hums, sinking down on his knees between your legs with the camera zoomed in on the small opening between the dildo plunging in and out of your cunt.

He licks his lips as his eyes zone in on your slick coating the silicone, squelching soft sounds of your velvety walls pulling the silicone in further and further to your wet heat.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby love. You hear those sweet little noises your pussy is making? She’s so wet. She’s glistening…” he trails off, getting lost in the intimate moment of seeing you this up close. His cock twitches against the comforter pathetically, and he shifts his hips slightly for a moment of relief.

“Joel. Please, baby. I need—fuck—please.” You shallowly pump the silicone faster, breath hitching and back arching upwards on the mattress.

“Words, baby love. Tell me what you need. C’mon, pretty girl. Lemme hear you.” He said encouragingly, letting his palm rest close to your core, gently spreading you open further so he could get a better look. His pupils darken significantly, glazed over in lust, Adam’s apple bobbing and the thought crosses his mind again:

Ring. Ring. Ring. I need a fuckin’ ring.

“Need your mouth, sir.” You pant out, lashes fluttering as your internal muscles clamp down, squeezing around the silicone as another droplet of slick slips down from your hole.

“Where do you need my mouth, baby love. Tell me.”

“On my pussy. Please. I need your tongue, and mouth. Need it so bad, Joel.”

His chest swells with pride for your direct communication. He knows it’s a milestone worth celebrating, rewarding you for being such a good girl. He preens, leaning down to press a loving kiss to your pulsing clit, dragging the flat side of his tongue across it, moaning at the taste of you.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He rasps, dark lashes shadowing even darker brown eyes that flicker upwards towards your blissed out face. “Eyes on me, baby love. Lemme see ‘em.” He softly demands you, stroking his thumb gently across your outer lips.

He grinds the heavy weight of his cock against the comforter once more, staining the fabric with a dribble of precum weeping from the slit of his cock.

Your eyes snap open at his request, chest heaving, thighs begin to quiver and shake the second you meet his heady gaze. The heat rises to your cheeks as you watch the slow drag of his tongue across your clit, flicking it back and forth, up and down all while keeping steady eye contact with you.

He looks so pretty, cheeks flushed, lips moist with his saliva and your slick. Eyes dark, pupils blown wide.

Your freehand releases its steel grip around the comforter and reaches down for his jaw instead, fingers brushing across his beard, cradling his face gently.

“Good girl, baby love. Keep lookin’ at me with those pretty eyes.”

Your pussy flutters around the silicone, squelching and dripping wet, staining the comforter further in your slick, heady aroma swirling around his head like a musky, sex stained halo.

“You look so pretty, Joel—you’re so pretty.” You preen, hips bucking upwards against his tongue.

“Never look as pretty as you do when you’re comin’ undone, baby love. So fuckin’ pretty creamin’ on that cock.”

You’re both insatiable as your orgasm washes over you, and you waste no time to pull the silicone from your weeping hole just as Joel tosses the camera to the side, crawling up your body and chasing your lips while you reach for his cock, guiding him inside of you.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💗

Please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications

484 notes · View notes