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#also still working on unravel me
narukoibito · 1 year
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since feeling is first who pays any attention
Summary: Ginny has done her fair share of watching Harry over the years.
AO3 | FF.net
Note: This was originally a gift for the wonderful @remedialpotions for the 2020 Harry & Ginny Discord's Incognito Elf gift exchange that I always wanted to rework before posting! I decided to expand it and add more missed moments, one for each of Ginny's years at Hogwarts.
Special thank you to @takearisk-ao3 who not only beta'ed last minute but also created the above beautiful banner when she had no idea what this story was about aside from my poor vibe descriptions! And, hah, it's my birthday again, so why not post today?
since feeling is first who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you; wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world
my blood approves and kisses are a better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry —the best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other: then laugh, leaning back in my arms for life's not a paragraph
and death i think is no parenthesis
— e. e. cummings
i.
Ginny presses her face against the wall, peeking between the stair spindles. Her eye lands on the two boys hunched over a chessboard. It’s her brother Ron and Harry Potter, who, despite appearing to be losing, doesn’t seem the least bit upset.
Harry Potter.
The Harry Potter is in her house. Looking comfortable on their couch despite the faded, mended cushions. His face crinkles in laughter at something Ron says, his green eyes bright with contentment. Ginny doesn’t miss the occasional look of awe at the things she has always taken for granted. It’s almost as if he can’t believe he is really here in their ordinary home.
He isn’t what she expected—isn’t what she imagined he would look like after all those years listening to Mum recite her favorite bedside story, about the heroic Savior of the Wizarding World. She had pictured neat hair, a dashing smile, someone who would recognize a comrade in her and take her on all sorts of adventures. He would be different. He wouldn’t discount her dreams of flying or of doing everything her brothers could and more. Instead, Harry Potter has the messiest hair ever, a sheepish smile, and clothes that he nearly swims in.
Oh, and he has somehow missed the memo and found a comrade in Ron instead.
Her fingers curl around the spindle. Not for the first time, a spike of envy shoots through her. If only she were a little older. Or a boy. Then maybe she would be the one playing chess with Harry. Maybe she would be the one to hide under his invisibility cloak and battle trolls and face You-Know-Who with him.
Ginny presses her face a little closer and lets out a sigh.
But Harry Potter is kind. He ignores all the times she has made a fool of herself. And he has the greenest eyes she’s ever seen. They are as green as those glowing jars of pickled toads at the apothecary Mum sometimes takes her to. Pretty and kind and not at all dismissive of her patched clothes or her glowing red face.
Harry Potter. If he likes Ron, if he actually likes the Burrow, if his face grimaces at the attention at Flourish and Blotts, could it be possible that one day he could like her too?
“Going to ask for his autograph, Ginny?”
Ginny lets out an uncharacteristic squeak as Fred sidles up against her, with George flanking her other side.
“Or are you going to yell at us about how the great Harry Potter is different?” George teases.
“Not just brave—”
“But humble too!”
“What a catch.” Fred pretends to swoon.
“If only he’d notice me, Fred.” George sighs dramatically.
Ginny glowers at them, shoving away from her hiding spot. “Stop it.”
“Or what?” Fred and George laugh, loudly enough that Ron and Harry glance over curiously. Already she can feel her face flame even as her eyes narrow.
“Or I’ll tell Mum about that powder you snuck into your rooms.”
She turns her heel just in time to see her brothers’ faces drain of color. With as much dignity she can muster, she storms back up the stairs. She immediately collapses on her bed, but the soft afghan does nothing to ease the embarrassment that burns behind her eyes.
The worst part is that there’s no one for her to talk to about how seeing Harry Potter—or him looking at her—sets off a blazing sensation somewhere in her chest that horrifically travels up to her face like a rash. It’s foreign and strange, nothing she’s ever experienced before.
She has no one to talk to about it. Ron has hardly spared her a second glance since Harry arrived. Fred and George tease her mercilessly. Percy, preoccupied with his shiny badge, just tells her she should focus on her studies so she can be a prefect like him one day. And there is no way Percy or Mum would let her borrow an owl to send a letter to Bill or Charlie.
Maybe some things are best kept secret. She’s used to taking matters in her own hands, picking locks the Muggle way after watching Fred and George do it. The hum of power under her fingers when she steals their brooms reminds her that age, gender, and size don’t define her. She’d rather they stop being berks and let her fly with them, but she has grown to love the uninhibited freedom of flying at night. And it’s made a touch sweeter by the thrill of something being just hers in a house and family where everything is shared.
Still. It would be nice to have someone to talk to, someone to confide in.
She’s brimming with foreign feelings, the bursting anticipation of finally, finally going to Hogwarts. It’s all she’s ever wanted since Bill went, so much that she snuck into his luggage, craving escapades and escape. All these feelings are strangely accentuated by Harry Potter in her home.
She lets out a sigh, finally unburying her flushed face. Her gaze falls on her cauldron, filled with the fanciest, most expensive, brand new books that Harry Potter had gifted her (her, not Ron, not anyone else). The thought makes her insides flutter.
Maybe if she studies hard, Harry Potter might see that she’s not too little and annoying. Maybe he will tell Ron to let her stay, let her join them.
Ginny is pulling out Year with the Yeti when a small black notebook slips onto the floor. She stares down at it for a moment, temporarily dazed. Had Dad bought this for her?
The little journal is faded but retains a simple prettiness, almost as if there’s more to it than its worn cover. Something about it seems to draw her in. Mum always says never judge a book by its cover.
She leans down to pick it up, and a small thrill shoots up her arm. Her fingers skim over the clean, crisp pages.
She hardly ever gets anything of her own.
So unaccustomed to being without someone her age, she’d taken to chronicling stories, events, and adventures—placeholders for the real thing—as a way to cope without her brothers. Dad would peek into her room sometimes, his eyes twinkling when he caught her writing. He must have known she’d want to remember every moment of her first year at Hogwarts. Ginny presses the book against her chest, falling back onto her bed.
How much of it will be filled with the Boy Who Lived?
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hechiima · 1 year
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It's already so tragic that Holmes and Watson get separated for three years in the original stories and then dgs was like alright well we're gonna make it ten and make them both single dads. So. I'm sure they're fine.
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corntort · 24 days
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does Trace still make and lose bets in the dreamscape or does veruska console command his luck with them to get better
hrmmmm honestly probably he is a TIIIIINY bit less impulsive. but just because his whole sense of self has been kinda shaken up, he's generally much less talkative overall and so absorbed in his work he doesn't deem bets really worth his time anymore. if he had to he probably Would take a bet but it's just so far off his radar when he's holed up in his tiny mobile home all the time the opportunity doesn't really present itself
ALTHOUGH. i would think the dream counterparts of his coworkers might help him with equations/hypotheticals taken wildly out of contexts. he's stubborn and obstinate enough to brute force learning all the stuff he learned on sudra himself but if he hits a wall and can't move anywhere in his research he'll call one of them up.
and then the usual positing of "whoever figures this out first owes the other dinner." "Bet." happens
but again. very rare. and he doesn't trust anyone else with the specific details of his research, its all kept VERY VERY VAGUE when certain problems crop up to begin with.
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majorproblems77 · 7 months
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The urge to drop everything and just write for the afternoon is strong with me today
But I've got stuff to do
Damn it being an adult sucks sometimes
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mrcspectr · 2 years
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Ok I know its already been established that every NF song has Marc vibes, but I think someone needs to point out that the songs “Mansion” and “how could you leave us” are literally the plot of moon knight episode 5. It’s the exact same thing. My brain can’t handle this
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vs.
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There are some.. very specific lines in here that I could expand on. That I could just.. wax poetic about for a few hours. But we don't have time to unpack alllll of that.
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everythingsinred · 2 years
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hey im still a ga blog im just feeling a little miserable bc im abt to graduate and im actually not rly happy abt it so im rewatching the office to cope pls dont read too much into it
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fangswbenefits · 3 months
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Everything
Summary: You're used to staying still whenever Astarion feeds on you. This time, he wants you to feel everything.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Blood kink. Inappropriate use of tadpoles. Dry humping if you squint. Handjob. Innuendo. PiV. Creampie. Precum.
Word count: 3.2k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: At the time of posting this fic (Feb 11th), I was unaware of a fic by @bhaalism that had been posted on Feb 6th and that some similarities are present, even if totally unbeknownst to me. It was not consciously done, but I can understand how some people might see it differently. I've discussed the matters privately with Kita and, as such, here's the link to their fic so you can check them out and appreciate their work!
I also want to emphasise that no negative behaviour should come of this (in either direction) as we've both discussed matters privately, and no one else has to get involved!
You've done this so many times before that it feels as natural as second nature.
It feels right.
If the multiple scrolls of Lesser Restoration are anything to go by, this is meant to be a prolonged feeding session.
You don't mind.
And by the looks of it, neither does Astarion as he pulls you by the waist to sit more comfortably on his lap.
He has this ritual of sorts with you. It would be so easy to tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to his bite and let him feed comfortably, but he takes his time.
And you know it's only a matter of time before you start feeling it.
“You can just feed, you know?” you purr, pressing your forehead against his.
As expected, he huffs in feigned annoyance.
“Gods, are you about to lecture me with the ‘don't play with your food’ nonsense, darling?” he bites out dramatically, but you do know he enjoys a good tease.
“Maybe I should,” you say, swirling the soft curls at the nape of his neck around your finger. “You need to feed, after all.”
A devious smile curves his lips and you pull back to slip from his lap.
But he immediately halts you halfway with a firm grip on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin and holding you in place.
Oh?
This is new.
And that's when you first feel it twitch for the first time.
It's no surprise that Astarion gets easily hard with you and for you. In fact, it doesn't take much effort at all. It's as if his body is set to react to yours in unfathomable ways. 
But when you press down softly against him, and the motion earns a groan from him and yet another twitch from his cock, you know this is different.
Usually, he feeds on you as you lay flat on your bed, making use of the comfort a mattress can provide as he drinks your blood.
It is easy and quick and enough.
But tonight, it seems that Astarion has other plans and his lustful gaze paired with his hardening cock are proof enough.
He is evidently hungry for more than just your blood.
“As much as I adore you under me,” he begins, gaze dropping to your shirt, “I think I'd rather have you on top of me this time.”
Your hands come to grip his shoulders for balance, and your eyes widen slightly. “Why?”
A gentle tug at the laces of your nightdress nearly breaks your concentration, but you somehow manage to keep your composure as his crimson eyes find yours.
“Why not? Why shouldn't this delicacy be shared?” he asked with another tug and you felt the fabric  at your chest begin to loosen. “You should enjoy it, too, darling. And I want you to feel everything.”
He emphasises his words with a final pull that brings your nightdress fully apart, unravelling your breasts to his hungry gaze. They heave in unison with your quickened breathing and it's enough to transfix him.
You can't necessarily feel it, but you are certain his cock just got harder just as blood rushes downwards, swelling your clit.
The shift in temperature causes your nipples to slowly harden and that is what makes him groan.
“Enjoying the view?”
He nods. “You can feel how much I do.”
You feigned ignorance. “I don't think I can.”
The grip on your waist tightens and he pulls you against his cock, the flimsy fabric of your undergarments allowing your clit to drag along his covered length.
Hard and needy.
“You were saying…?”
Smug and cheeky and infuriating.
Three adjectives that fall short to fully grasp how he is with you when it comes to intimacy, but it's a good place to start.
He's good and he knows it and he wants you to validate him every step of the way.
“Connect your tadpole with mine,” he says unexpectedly.
“What? Why?”
“You know why.”
You do and it baffles you that he even suggested it in the first place. Connecting tadpoles intimately  is reserved for when privacy is a guarantee. And being inside one of the many rooms at the Elfsong Tavern offers everything but privacy.
“We're at a tavern, Astarion…”
He quirks an eyebrow, bucking his hips upwards ever so slightly. “Yes, I'm aware. Your point being…?”
“We'll be heard.”
“Do you not intend on being loud?”
Your mouth falls agape at the nerve. Silence is never an option with him. He takes pride in how he makes you feel, knowing fully well he's ruined you for anyone else.
“Would you have it any other way?” 
His cock twitches in response, but it's the way his half-hooded eyes roam deliciously slow across your face that makes you clench.
“And miss the opportunity to inconvenience our next-door neighbours?” he tuts with a smirk that bares his fangs. “I don't think so.”
In the midst of all the lust-heavy words and slow hip rolls, you manage out a chuckle.
“You're vicious. Shadowheart and Lae'zel will definitely not appreciate the midnight ruckus.”
He bucks his hips so that your face gets close enough for your lips to brush.
“And what exactly are they going to do, hmm?” he says with a smirk. “Kill me?”
Before you can answer, he leans in and captures your bottom lip in between his teeth. The suddenness of it all, makes you flinch back and when a fang grazes the frail skin, it draws blood.
It stings enough for you to curse, and you see his hungry gaze admiring the droplet that pools on your lip.
“They could do much worse to you,” you tease with a giggle, proving your point by denying him the taste of your blood when he leans in again.
He lets out a low rumble of disapproval as he slumps against the headboard. “If by ‘worse’ you mean ‘whispering healing prays and hurling nonsensical curse words’, then I agree. A torment,” he feigned pain dramatically.
There is something oddly satisfying about teasing Astarion to the brink of frustration.
You almost feel inclined to satisfy his bloodlust, but decide against it, wiping the droplet with a swipe of your tongue.
That immediately earns a deep frown from him and an obnoxious click of his tongue. “Honestly, what a waste.”
“Then be nice,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
Astarion's hips buck and you're sure your undergarments are soaked enough for the wetness to seep through the fabric of his trousers. If he feels it, he doesn't say. 
When you pull away, there's a faint stain of blood on his lower lip, which he pulls in between his teeth to suckle on it gently.
The sight is enough to have you roll your hips twice.
Suddenly, he looks uncharacteristically serious. “Connect your tadpole with mine.”
There is urgency in his voice and you can only assume he is past warming up and ready to move on to the next step. 
And you're not one to deny the offer of a good time if there is a promise that him feeding on you can be pleasurable to you as well.
You allow your mind to stir the dorment tadpole, urging it to find his.
It is rather simple and you've done it before with him during your sexual endeavours. But this is different. It already feels different. It's as if the worm knows this connection bears other purposes.
Astarion lets out a groan when his body meets yours through his mind.
The tug inside your head is enough to draw a breathy gasp as you are made aware of his intentions.
He wants your hand.
Your… hand?
Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but not for long enough as his hand pulls yours from his shoulder.
And what he does next makes you clench so hard, you feel a gush of wetness drip from you.
“I want you to feel it – everything – as I feast on your blood,” he purrs, placing your hand around his throat.
Oh.
The tadpole squirms in anticipation as you feel his cock throbbing in your mind and against your clothed clit.
His skin is cool to the touch but it quickly heats up under your palm and, with his other hand, he undoes the laces of his trousers with unmatched dexterity.
You gasp as his thoughts bleed into you, allowing you to know what he expects next.
This time, he doesn't need to utter aloud his intentions.
You can hear him inside your head and you find yourself utterly unable to look away from his piercing eyes.
Take it out and grip it, darling.
Your hips buck, driven by pure instinct as you comply with his request. A shaky hand reaching down and tugging at the fabric of his own undergarments, and in one swift motion, you free his cock.
As expected, he immediately welcomes your grip with a thrust, and you feel just how hard and wet he already is.
His cock is still cool to the touch, but you know that is about to change soon enough.
With a gentle squeeze, his eyes flutter shut, head tilting back slightly as he adjusts to your touch.
It doesn't take long for a thick bead of precum to roll down his length before reaching your knuckles.
Inside your head, your tadpole shudders and you're sure it's because he wants to feel how swollen your clit is for him.
It pulsates rhythmically and Astarion growls with a smirk.
He adores feeling your clit.
Just as you adore feeling how stiff his cock can get in your hand and in your mind.
“You're already quite hard already,” you say, doing a laughable poor job at keeping your voice steady.
“I can get harder,” he says and you feel his voice rumbling against your palm.
You clench in sheer reflex. Mostly because you know he can and will.
Instinctively, you let out a soft moan from the delicious friction. 
And it's enough to have Astarion's ego soar high enough that it pulls the most devilishly alluring smirk from his lips.
After all, he never misses the chance to remind you that it is your blood that makes his cock thicker and warmer and harder.
Astarion finally opens his eyes again and brings his hand to your face, fingers tracing your jawline before he tips your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.
Hold on tight, darling.
He cranes his head and he plants a fleeting kiss below your ear, as he grazes his cool lips along the length of your neck. By now, he knows your pulse points by heart, so when he finds one, his fangs break skin and sink into your inviting flesh.
Out of reflex, you grip his cock tighter and he lets out a muffled groan.
No matter how many times you allow him to feed on you, the initial uncomfortable feeling is always there and it lingers until his lips wrap around the bleeding wounds.
And when he begins to suckle hungrily, downing mouthfuls of your blood, you nearly moan from the way you can feel it under your palm.
Your tadpole allows you to be aware of your blood rushing and coursing through his body at a steady pace and when it finally reaches his lower half, a faint pulse stirs his cock.
Immediately, you clench, frustrated that it's around nothing, but you quickly brush the disappointment aside as you finally understand why he wanted your hands around him.
He swallows your blood at a rhythm that matches the throb in his cock, and inside your head you can feel it beat in unison with the one in your clit.
It's your blood that brings him alive in more ways than one.
Warmth spreads across your palm and fingers and the veins that snake around his length begin to bulge as your blood fills them.
Tighter… tighter… tighter.
He repeats it like a prayer that he hopes you can answer.
He's so lost in you that his senses blur and he becomes one with you.
You try your best to comply, the back of your hand soaked with precum, as he hardens even more.
In between your legs, your clit swells up as if in response and you're so wet you're sure he'd be able to slide his cock inside with little to no effort.
How is it possible? How…
The connection allows him to hear your thoughts and he groans in response, rolling his hips at a clumsy and broken pace.
Astarion's concentration is hanging on by a thread. You can hear him curse in sheer frustration as he tries to hold on to some semblance of control.
But he gets too drunk in your blood and he is unable to keep his focus.
It doesn't help that your own arousal is spilling into his mind and mixing with his own.
A double-edged sword.
He wanted you to feel him as he feeds on you, and now he's stuck having to withstand double the arousal and the pleasure that your blood provides.
The first loud growl comes from him and you feel your grip around his cock loosen as he thickens.
Your walls flutter and he feels it, bringing one hand down to close around yours, ensuring you grip him firmly once again.
You keep clenching like that and I…
His next words aren' heard in your head and you feel your body begin the inevitable battle between overwhelming pleasure and the numbness that always comes whenever he feeds.
A faint growl slips past your lips and it quickly morphs into a strangled cry that echoes around the room.
You want to call out his name and warn him… warn him that your body can't take much more bloodloss and arousal.
But the tug inside your mind lets you know that he knows.
After all, your body is his now.
Just as his is yours.
He fucks your hand slowly with his atop yours, keeping the pace. The lump in his throat bobs rhythmically with each gulp.
Astarion… it's too much…
It takes him a couple of more seconds, two more mouthfuls and at least five more thrusts of his cock for him to finally unlatch from your neck with a guttural growl.
He drags his warm tongue across the puncture wounds, not wasting the rivulets of blood that dribble  down.
The wet sound is nearly intoxicating and you nearly jump in his lap as his other hand finds your breast, fingers tugging at your hardened nipple.
Astarion is close and, by extension, so are you.
Your blood rushes throughout his entire body and you now understand how good it feels. How good you feel inside him. He's warm and flushed from feeding on you and his head tilts back against the headboard as loses himself in you.
Somehow, he's able to keep a steady pace as he fucks your hand, the most beautiful moans spilling from his mouth as he does so.
You caress his neck lovingly as he tugs on your nipple.
“Darling…”
It's a plea.
Under different circumstances, you'd have to ask him what he wanted. But you're inside his head and you know why he's begging you.
He doesn't want his cum to go to waste.
He doesn't think the tightness and warmth and wetness your hand and fingers can provide.
I need to be inside you.
The alarm in his voice stuns you momentarily and your eyes widen as a very urgent tug
He's about to come.
You let go of his cock and his hands are suddenly in between your legs.
Your body reacts to this instantly and your walls tighten in anticipation, eager to squeeze something else.
Stop. Clenching.
A loud moan is all you give him in return as your vision blurs from how his cock pulses and throbs and leaks precum.
Another clench.
“Gods above… I can't take it anymore.”
And neither can you.
You hear the sound of fabric being torn filling your ears and his hands claw at your waist to position himself at your entrance.
A languid snap of his hips and he sinks into you, stretching you in a way that has you slumping against his chest, hardened nipples grazing his skin as he bottoms out.
He's so thick from your blood that you're sure you'll be sore from it, but none of that matters now.
All that matters is that you're stuffed to the brim, his balls pressing against you and the best part is that you can feel how he feels.
You're not sure whose climax hits first as you're so entwined with him.
You reckon it's his as you feel his balls tighten and cum coarse through his length, spilling into you with hurried thrusts.
It feels too good to be true.
You can feel just how tight you are around him and you can feel each gush of cum leaving his bodu
He whines. “I… it feels – Gods…” 
Astarion is a babbling mess under you and his words soon lose meaning as they become incomprehensible.
The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with the creamy sounds of you milking his cock is enough to send you into overdrive.
The uncontrollable  contractions hit you like a tidal wave and both you and Astarion groan in unison as you both get thrust into each other's climaxes.
Your head is buried in the crook of his neck and you vaguely think in the haze of your peak that you should use a scroll of Lesser Restoration. You're still bleeding from the wounds and the fear that you might faint looms on the horizon.
But pleasure overcomes numbness and you welcome it with no resistance.
Still, as Astarion gets warmer and warmer, you begin to fade to the coldness.
Your tadpole is writhing with his and you feel him push you from him so that he can latch his lips against your bleeding wounds, careful to keep his fangs to himself.
He suckles gently as you descend from your shared climax and it's as if the action could lull him into a trance.
Blindly, you try to feel for a scroll that is somewhere scattered across the bed.
He's still buried deep inside you when the connection is severed, showing no signs of slipping out.
You find what you're looking for and utter the right words to activate the scroll, battling against your laboured breaths.
Vigour blooms inside you almost instantly and you feel warmth spread throughout your body with each pump of your heart.
The wounds close and he has no choice but to unlatch one final time, lips dripping with blood.
“I think I understand now… why you wanted to try this…” you breathe out, collapsing against him again. 
The sudden motion causes a few droplets of cum to drip from you.
His hand is splattered across your back, fingers caressing your flushed skin. “Why are you so surprised? You should know by now that I always deliver what I promise.”
You think it's impossible to love him even more, but the way he holds you surely tests your resolve.
“This was really good… really, really good,” you say.
“Keep on praising me like that, and we'll have to go for a second round.”
Two loud bangs on the wall are heard accompanied by a “Tsk'va!” and you chuckle.
“Well, do you think our neighbours enjoyed the show, darling?”
You doubt it, but this isn't about anyone but you and him.
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 6: One Step Closer
Summary: You're all trying to adjust to the changes happening between you and the members of your pack.
Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, some Price x Gaz
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, suggestive content, handjobs, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language
A/N: I'm not entirely happy with this one and might come back when I feel better and do some changes, but for now, it's fine. Mostly just a filler chapter more than anything. Some sweet moments, some maybe steamy...Building up for some more exciting things coming in the next parts. Also I just wanted to clear something up, pretty much everyone in this universe is at least a little bisexual. That will make sense once you read the chapter.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(Gif found on Google)
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He curses the click of the door as it opens, making sure to go slowly so it doesn’t squeak as it’s prone to when it rains. His lips turn up in a smile as he catches a glimpse at the sight on the couch, no more than half a moment before Price’s honed senses cause him to wake at the change in atmosphere. 
He blinks tired eyes at Gaz, head lifting from where it had drooped to his chest in his sleep. He adjusts his hold on you, still asleep and unaware in the safety of your alpha’s arms. 
“Sleeping in your office again, sir?” Gaz says quietly, stepping closer to the couch. 
Price grunts quietly, shifting his hold on you so he can lift a hand to rub at his eyes. His voice is thick and gravelly with sleep as he answers. “Didn’t mean to.” 
Gaz hums, running a hand through Price’s hair as the air between them changes from Captain and Sergeant to alpha and beta. “Should get you both to bed.” 
“You take her.” Price murmurs. “She’ll forgive you easier for invading her space.” 
Gaz knows he’s right. He’d already been invited in once. His scent in your space would be less jarring than Price’s. Price carefully unravels your arms from around his neck, letting Gaz slip his arms under you to lift you off his lap. You stir slightly at the movement, letting out a quiet grumble. 
“Shh pretty girl.” Gaz shushes you, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “Just taking you to bed.” 
Price follows behind him as he carries you through the halls to your room. You’re asleep by the time he reaches your door, Price opening it for him. Gaz slips in, carrying you to your bed. He makes sure you’re comfortable, tucking the blanket around you before leaning down to kiss your forehead. 
He spares one last glance at you fast asleep before he closes the door, turning to Price. “Your turn.” 
“You gonna carry me too?” Price asks, a playful glint shining in his eyes despite the obvious exhaustion. 
Gaz huffs out a laugh. “You wish.” He puts a hand on his back, guiding Price down to his door, closest to the entry to the barracks. 
He follows the alpha into his space, meticulously clean and tidy as usual. They both blink against the harsh overhead light, Gaz leaning against the door as Price begins emptying his pockets, getting settled in his space. 
“She knelt for me tonight.” Price says as he sits at his desk to unlace his boots. 
“She’s making headway.” Gaz replies, surprised that you asked to kneel so soon. He knows how meaningful kneeling is to both alpha and omega, how intense it can be, how much trust there is involved. 
Price hums, standing to remove his pants. “I fear Laswell was right. She’s turning out to be a good fit.” 
“She’s already got Simon worked up.” Gaz smiles, moving to the dresser to fish out clean sleep clothes. “I fear she may be taking a page out of Johnny’s book.” 
“Well, if it gets him to stop torturing himself, then I can’t say I’ll complain.” Price says, pulling his shirt over his head. “You know how he is.” 
“I know.” Gaz says, holding out the clean shirt and sweatpants. “Can’t say I blame him entirely. Not after what he’s been through.” 
Price slips on the clean clothes, stepping closer to Gaz. “He’ll warm up to our girl eventually.” 
“‘Our girl?’” Gaz’s eyebrows lift as Price steps in even closer, their noses brushing. “That’s quite the jump.” 
“She’s been our girl from the start. As soon as those papers were finalized, there was no sending her back.” Price says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Gaz’s lips. “I wouldn’t put her through that. Not after everything.” 
Gaz pulls back, Staring at Price’s face. “You know something.” 
“I wouldn’t say I know anything, but I have my suspicions.” He moves past Gaz, turning off the overhead light. “I know we all do.” 
“You think she’ll tell us?” 
“I think she will, with time. I don’t want to push her into too much too soon.” He pats Gaz on the ass. “Come on, in bed.” 
“Sir, yes sir.” Gaz smirks, Price giving him a look as the beta pulls down the covers, crawling into the bed. 
Price groans internally, trying to calm the twitch in his pants at the mental picture of you, those big puppy eyes shining playfully as you saluted him. The small spark of excitement every time you call him “sir.” How easily you relaxed for him while you knelt, giving over complete trust and control to him for an hour. 
He crawls under the covers, tossing an arm over Gaz, trying to block out all the mental images flashing through his head. 
“Forget something in your pocket, sir?” Gaz says, the smirk evident in his voice.
“Shut it, Garrick.” 
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You’re jarred awake by the sound of movement in the hallway. You let out a quiet noise of indignation, letting your eyes close again. It’s too early, around the time the boys leave to go workout. You’ve been graciously given a couple days off to rest and recover, likely Price’s recommendation. You knew if it were up to Ghost, he’d force you to work through the pain. You’re glad for the break, though, and you would be even if you weren’t horribly sore. 
Your head is still spinning a bit from last night. You’re not quite sure how you made it to bed, but the faint scent of clean linen and the sea gives you an idea. You bury your face in your pillow, letting out a groan. You knelt for Price last night. You opened yourself up to that vulnerability, and he had graciously guided and supported you through it. He didn’t scruff you, even though he could have, nor was there any demand for control in his grasp, he could have easily taken it. 
He’d been a good alpha, helping you relax and destress. You feel lighter for the first time in weeks, since you found out where you were going and who your new pack was going to be. You feel lighter than you have in your entire time on this base, though that could just be the endorphins still flowing a bit from kneeling for your alpha. 
It’ll be easier to come down from it once you’re bonded, you know that. Once there’s that connection between you, and you’re around him all the time. You’ll be moving into his room, or at least you’ll spend most of your time in there. You’ll sleep in his bed with him. You wonder if he’s a cuddler, or if he prefers personal space. Would Gaz join you sometimes? You can practically feel the warmth of being sandwiched between them, battle hardened hands trailing along your bare body because you’ll be naked and well bonded with both of them. 
You bury your burning face in your pillow letting out a muffled, quiet scream at the thoughts your mind is conjuring. You feel hot, warmth pooling in your stomach. There’s no going back to sleep now, you know that. 
You get up, rushing to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face and erase the thoughts in your head. It’s entirely natural, having these thoughts. You will get to that place, very soon, with Price. The others could pursue that sort of relationship with you as well, if they wanted to. It will likely happen naturally with Gaz, given his bond with Price, and after your kiss with Soap...
You’re not sure if it would happen with Ghost, or if he would allow it. You can’t help but think about yesterday, how easily he had overpowered you with just his scent. You had been scared, as it was your nature to be when an alpha was posing a direct threat to you, but the way he had looked hovering over you, the feeling of him pressed against you when he’d pinned you to the floor. How easily he got you into that position. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of him pinning you down like that, or better, pinning you against Soap, his hand on the back of your neck. 
You splash cold water on your face, holding your breath until your lower body stops pulsing in time with your heart. You let out a quiet curse, focusing on getting ready for the day before grabbing your book and heading for the rec room to try and calm yourself. 
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“You’re up early, love.” 
You jump at the voice, lowering your book as you look up from your spot stretched out on the couch. Gaz is standing there, skin dewy with sweat. They must have just returned from their morning workout, heading in to shower and get ready for the day. Gaz must have noticed your scent and followed it. 
“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” You explain as he moves closer to the couch. “Gaz!” You shriek as he crawls over you, dropping his body on top of yours. “You’re all sweaty!” 
“You can shower later.” He says, resting his face against your chest, his elbows pressed into the cushions so he’s not completely squishing you with his weight. 
“You should be showering now.” You say, trying not to breathe in too much of his scent. It’s heavily tainted with the scent of sweat and musk. 
“Then we can shower together.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face further into your chest. 
Your face warms, your heart rate picking up at his teasing. The thought of being enclosed in the shower with him, such a small space, packed in together. Skin to skin, bare before each other. You might implode beneath him, warmth beginning to travel down your spine after your thoughts earlier. 
“Relax.” He murmurs with a grin, obviously picking up the quickening of your heart rate and the change in your scent. “I’m teasing.” 
He’s just as bad as Soap, but not quite as blatant with it. While Soap would tease at any open opportunity, Gaz tended to choose his moments wisely, slipping some teasing remark in when you least expected it. 
Gaz goes quiet as he lays there, his breathing steady. You mark your page before reaching up to set the book on the arm of the couch. You can’t help yourself as you run your fingers through his short cropped, damp curls, gently scratching at his scalp. He makes a quiet noise, his body getting heavier. 
“Gaz?” You murmur, earning a grunt in response. “Are you falling asleep?” 
“Can’t help it.” He murmurs. “So comfy.” 
Your cheeks warm as he nuzzles into your chest, letting out a content sigh. You fight the urge to release one of your own, feeling warm and content even pressed against the lumpy cushions of the couch. How easy it is to find comfort even in the most uncomfortable places. 
It doesn’t have to be uncomfortable. 
Your heart rate kicks up again, hand stilling where it had been scratching Gaz’s scalp. You’re allowed to want. You asked yesterday and nothing bad happened. 
“Gaz?” You murmur, trying to fight the nervous twisting of your stomach. “Would you...if I wanted something, would you get it for me, even if it’s stupid?” 
Gaz shifts on top of you, knees pressing into the couch as he pushes himself higher so you’re face to face. One of his legs is between yours, holding him up so he doesn’t squish you under his weight. 
He stares down at you, blinking the haze of sleep from his dark eyes. “Babygirl, I’d take over the world for you if that’s what you wanted.” 
Your lips part in surprise at his answer. You’re not entirely sure he’s allowed to say something like that, even as a joke. The sentiment of it is not lost on you, and you find tears prickling the backs of your eyes. 
His arms shift beneath you, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what you want.” 
You stare up into those big, sweet, dark eyes. Gaz radiates a kindness and calmness like you haven’t felt in a long time. Not that the others aren’t kind, even in Ghost and his aggressiveness, you’ve felt the protective drive within him. It wasn’t based on any claim or sense of ownership, even a sense of duty couldn’t bring forward that kind of reaction. But Gaz...there’s just something so soft and gentle despite the danger he could pose. 
“Kiss me.” You blurt out, realizing you’ve been staring for far too long. 
Gaz stares down at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Just that? Here I thought you were gonna say something impossible like world domination.” 
“Well, if you’re offering...” You shrug. 
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Probably shouldn’t be making those jokes.” He leans down closer. “Though, if you asked nicely...” 
You let out a quiet sound as his lips press against yours. They’re just as soft as they look, pressing against yours so gently and softly. Your arms lift to his shoulders, curling into the fabric of his shirt. He coaxes your lips to move with his, copying his movements as he tilts his head slightly. 
Warmth blooms beneath your skin as he kisses you, your head spinning. His scent invades your nose, seeping into your very being. You want to curl up in it, let it surround you like a warm blanket. You catch the whiff of something deeper, the scent of damp earth. Price. You have a sudden urge to pull his shirt collar to the side, to stare at the mark that decorates his scent gland at the base of his throat, a mirror of the one you’ll carry in a few short weeks. 
“Ye didnae tell me ye were startin’ a cuddle pile!” 
An excited voice causes you both to separate, Gaz barely managing to lift himself up enough so that you don’t get squished when Soap practically jumps on his back. 
“Bloody hell, mate,” Gaz grunts. “Tryna squish our poor omega?” 
The weight above you shifts before Soap’s head appears over Gaz’s shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “Mornin’ hen!” 
“For someone so small, you weigh a ton.” Gaz says with a strain to his voice as sweat breaks out across his forehead from keeping his weight and Soap's off of you.
“I'm no that small.” Soap says, an offended tone to his voice as he goes limp on top of Gaz. 
You can't help but giggle at their antics, especially as Gaz pushes himself up to a kneeling position, nearly sending Soap rolling to the floor. Your face is warm from your giggling as they both stand, playfully pushing each other. 
“Alright, enough you two.” Price's voice cuts through their playful arguing, amusement shining in his eyes as he leans on the doorframe. “Almost time for breakfast.”
“Come on.” Gaz says, taking your hands and helping you up. “Let's get some pancakes in you before you turn into one.”
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“You should try courting her.” Kyle says, scrolling through his phone as he lounges on John's bed. “Like old-fashioned courting.”
“What are you on about?” John grumbles, drying his face with a towel. 
“Our little omega. You should try courting her.” Kyle repeats, looking over his phone at John. 
John tosses his towel into his hamper before approaching the bed. Kyle lets his eyes rake over his form, his strong arms and soft stomach, thick, strong thighs and the prominent bulge at the front of his briefs. 
“It would be worth a try.” Kyle continues, letting John pull the phone from his hands. “Omegas love that shit.” 
“And what prompted this thought?” John asks, laying down on his side next to Kyle, pulling the younger man closer. 
“She's getting all worked up by us now.” He says, biting back a groan as John trails a hand over his side. “She's kissed Soap and I so far. Got all worked up when I teased her about showering together this morning.” His hand trails through John's short hair as John licks at his throat. “I think she'd enjoy a little attention from her alpha.”
“What do you have in mind?” John murmurs before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Kyle's throat. 
Kyle shrugs, letting out a gasp as John bites at his throat. “Take her out for dinner? Buy her some things for her room? Give in to those alpha cravings a bit.”
John lets out a low growl, pinning Kyle on the bed beneath him. Kyle's lips lift in a smirk, fingers lifting to run through John's beard. His thumb drags across John's lower lip, gaze soft as he stares up at the alpha. 
“You won't ruin anything by doing it. There's only so much time until her heat. If I were an alpha, I'd want her to be as comfortable as possible before then. Makes the shift into bonded pack life much easier.” Kyle says. 
John leans down until their noses brush, groaning softly as Kyle digs his fingers into his shoulders. He knows Kyle is right. He should make an effort with you, at least try to ensure you're as comfortable around him as possible before he claims you. Most alphas wouldn't have waited for the first heat, wouldn't have even waited a week before claiming, before taking their omega to bed. He doesn't want to be like those alphas. He doesn't want to force you into more than you already have been, more than you will be. 
He wants things to happen as naturally as possible, but that doesn't mean he can't try. 
Kyle leans up, closing the distance between them and kissing him. He presses his beta back into the mattress, nipping harshly at his lips. Their tongues tangle together, tasting like peppermint toothpaste and something distinctly alpha and beta. 
John presses his body closer to Kyle's groaning as his half hard cock drags against Kyle's. Kyle moans into his mouth as John begins grinding against him. Their bodies move together, a familiar dance they've both memorized the steps to. 
John groans as Kyle's fingers trail down his back, blunt nails biting into the skin. Breathy moans slip from kiss-bruised plump lips as John kisses down Kyle's throat. Calloused fingers slip under the waistband of John's briefs, teasing the soft supple skin beneath. John grinds down against him harder, dragging his leaking cock against Kyle's twitching one. 
“Fuck, Cap.” Kyle groans, bucking up against his alpha. “Lemme feel you.”
John wraps his arms around Kyle, flipping them over so he's on top. Kyle makes quick work of his boxers, tugging John's briefs down roughly. He groans, licking his lips at the sight of his alpha's leaking cock. 
“Like what you see, pup?” John asks, lips lifting in a smirk. 
“Fuck yes.” Kyle breathes, settling himself on John's thighs. 
He leans down, wrapping a hand around both his and John's cocks. John groans as Kyle begins stroking them both, his cock twitching as more precum slips from his tip. He's close, the pent up frustrations from the last couple days along with the tantalizing scent of omega driving him to near insanity. 
He feels like he might pop a knot as Kyle picks up the pace, one hand braced against his chest, his hips rocking in short thrusts. His head falls back as his orgasm slams into him, hit cum spurting across his stomach. Kyle groans loudly, frantically pumping his own cock as he reaches his peak, spurting his spend across his alpha's stomach too. 
“Made quite the mess, Sergeant.” John says, trailing his fingers through the mix of cum on his stomach. 
“Would you like me to clean it up, sir?” Kyle smirks, opening his mouth to allow John's fingers to push in. 
His tongue swirls around his thick fingers, lapping them clean. Kyle shifts on top of him, bending down and trailing his tongue across John's stomach, licking up their mess. 
“Good boy.” John hums, gently cradling the back of Kyle's neck. 
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The sky is dark as you make your way from your room. Gaz and Price are nowhere to be found, your cheeks warming at the thought of where they could be and what they could be up to. You take a breath to steady yourself, and your scent, before you head into the rec room. Soap and Ghost are there, Soap on the opposite end of the couch as usual, and Ghost in the chair next to the couch that faces the door. 
He sees you first, his shoulders squaring just a bit. Soap turns to the doorway, a typical grin splitting his face when he sees you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen anyone be happy to see you, and you can’t deny that Soap’s joy is a bit contagious. He’s like an excited puppy. You can imagine if he had a tail, it would be wagging non-stop. 
“Come tae join us, hen?” He asks, holding out a hand. 
Ghost’s eyes are sharp as they stare at you, the silent warning not lost. You’re infringing on their space, infringing on his protective circle around his beta. You’re pushing a boundary and that could be dangerous. 
It could be. 
You move forward, taking Soap’s hand, letting him tug you down next to him on the couch. You ignore the eyes burning into you, boring holes into your skin as you settle in as close to Soap as you can. You almost smile in victory as Soap drapes his arm across the back of the couch, your attention turning to whatever is playing on the TV. 
Ghost and Soap continue their conversation, Soap's fingers brushing your arm every so often. You can feel every time Ghost's burning gaze turns to you, every time he glowers at you for being so close to his beta. You can't help but wonder what's going through his mind, what he's thinking, what he's imagining. 
You'll pay for this later. 
You can only imagine how he'll punish you in your training for boldly breaching such an obvious boundary. 
Soap doesn't seem to notice, or perhaps he simply doesn't care. It's not like you're not allowed to be close to Soap. As a member of your new pack, he had every right to pursue a bond with you if he wanted, regardless of how Ghost felt. Even though they're bonded, Soap is still his own person. 
It's almost ironic. 
You're starting to feel the exhaustion of your early morning as the night drags on, your head getting heavier and heavier. Ghost's need to glower at you has lessened a bit, his eyes only on you whenever you shift or move. Your head has drooped onto Soap's shoulder, an idea forming in your mind. You're sure it's the exhaustion making you so bold, or perhaps your new belief that the only way you'll even stand a chance at getting through to Ghost is to push those boundaries and stand up to him.
You lift your head, shifting your body until you're laying on the couch, resting your head on Soap's thigh. You watch Ghost's hands curl into fists where they rest on his lap, his eyes burning through your head as you make yourself comfortable. Soap's hand sinks into your hair, massaging your scalp as you lay there, your lips curling into a content smile. 
You know it has to be eating at him just a little. A content beta and a preening omega, an image of what he could have if he simply got over whatever is keeping him from accepting you. 
“Tired, lass?” Soap's gentle voice pulls you from your thoughts. Your mind had started to doze a bit, trailing off with your thoughts. 
You make a quiet noise in agreement, nuzzling against his thigh. 
“Let's get ye tae bed.” He says, squeezing your arm. 
You're not expecting Ghost to follow as Soap leads you from the rec room, your fingers entwined with his. Even in your tired state you can feel the icy stare at your back, the looming presence of the alpha behind you as Soap walks you to your door. 
“Night, hen.” Soap murmurs softly. 
You're sure it's the exhaustion making you delirious as you stand on your toes, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. Soap hums against your lips, bending down to follow you as you go to pull away. You ignore the tickling at the back of your neck as he presses another kiss to your lips, your hand reaching for your doorknob and the security of your room. 
“Night, Soap.” You murmur, slipping into your room before Ghost makes a rash decision. 
You're going to regret it later, but you certainly don't at this moment. 
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The fabric isn’t as soft as it used to be. It’s been worn too much, washed too many times. You’ve stitched the ripped seam back together, a bit sloppy but you can hardly tell thanks to the luck of finding thread the same color as the sweatshirt. You hold it in your hands, staring at the frayed edges, the loose strings. Well loved, some might call it. Garbage, others might think. 
“Finally fixing the holes?” 
The voice cutting through the silence makes you jump, your head whipping around to the door. Price is standing there, leaning against the doorframe. 
“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He says. 
“It’s alright, sir.” You say, calming your racing heart. You hadn’t even heard him approach. “I thought you were all at training.” 
“I had a call I had to take.” He says, entering the room now that you’ve calmed. “Was heading back out when I caught a whiff of your scent.” He lowers himself onto the couch with a quiet groan, staring softly at you. 
“I know it’s stupid, holding onto it when I could just ask for a new one.” You say, staring down at the sweatshirt in your hands. 
“But it’s more than just a sweatshirt.” He says, tone soft and understanding. 
You sink your teeth into your lip, fingers curling into the fabric in your hands. “One of the omegas at the institute gave it to me.” You say, holding the sweatshirt to your chest. “We were the same age so we were grouped together a lot and we got really close. She gave it to me when we reached selection age, since we both knew we were likely to get chosen fast and she wanted to give me something to remember her by. It’s a good thing she did too, because she did get chosen almost immediately.” You let out a quiet laugh, blinking back tears. “I’ve held on to it ever since. It doesn't even smell like her anymore. Hasn’t for a long time.” 
Price is quiet for a few moments, his eyes on your face. You can’t look at him, your gaze on the sweatshirt in your lap. “You loved her.” He finally says, his tone not accusing or even disgusted. 
It’s understanding. Knowing.
You take a shaky breath, hands closing into nervous fists around the sweatshirt. “Institutes try everything they can to prevent omegas from bonding with each other. Makes it too hard to separate us once we come of age. Alphas don’t want a distressed, unhappy omega, they’re expecting an eager, willing addition to their pack. It’s hard though, when you spend literal years together experiencing the same thing to not form bonds with each other.”
 Price huffs quietly. “My grandfather used to tell me about the traditional pack boom after World War 2. When militaries across the world began to forbid bonding and pack formation within ranks. They were spending more time and money on preventing it from happening than anything else. It didn’t take them long to realize it was easier to allow the organic bonds to form. It made soldiers stronger, gave them purpose. It’s easier to look away than to fight what nature intends sometimes.” He smiles at you, stretching his arm across the back of the couch. “We are the last people that will judge you for it.”
You know that. You've known that from the start. The way their scents mingle, their bonds. They're a bonded pack for a reason. 
“She never knew. Or, I never told her. I don't know where she ended up or where she is now.” You shrug, letting out a sardonic huff. “It's a lonely existence sometimes, being an omega.”
“I can only imagine.” Price says, giving you a sad smile. 
“I suppose I should just get rid of it.” You say, staring at the sweatshirt. “No use holding onto something that could have never been.” 
Price squeezes your shoulder gently. “Wait here.” 
He gets up, leaving you alone in the rec room. You wait patiently for him to return, growing a bit nervous. What was he doing? Was he telling someone about your confession? Was he going to send you back because of it? You know your worries are unwarranted, but you can't stop them. 
He returns a few moments later, a sweatshirt in his hands. “Here.” He says, holding it out to you. “They're standard issue, but I've never been one for sweatshirts. It's just been sitting in my closet.”
You take the sweatshirt, soft and new in your hands. It hardly smells like him, only the light residual scent from being in his room. “Thank you, sir.” You say, rubbing the fabric against your cheek. 
He nods at your old sweatshirt. “This way you can save that one, and start picking this one apart.” 
Your face warms at his cheeky comment, your head turning down bashfully. “It means a lot, sir. Really.” 
“You'll get better use of it than I did.” He glances at his watch. “I best be getting back to the boys. We'll be back before dinner.”
“Wait-” You get up before he can leave, slowly approaching him with the sweatshirt in hand. Your face is burning as he stares down at you, eyebrows raised in waiting. “Will you...scent it?” You hold the sweatshirt out to him.
He looks surprised for a moment before he takes the fabric, rubbing his face and neck against it. He coats the sweatshirt in his scent, the smell of trees and petrichor filling your nose as you watch him. The back of your neck begins to prickle, the desire to roll in his scent getting stronger. 
“Thank you, sir.” You say as he hands the sweatshirt back to you. “I'd...I'd also like to kneel again tonight, if that's alright.”
He smiles softly down at you. “Of course. I'll come and get you when I'm ready.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your head before he takes his leave. 
You pull on Price's sweatshirt, burying your nose in his scent for a moment. A smile pulls at your lips as you grab your old sweatshirt, making for your room.
You can't wait for tonight. 
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Taglist:
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melzula · 2 months
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hii i was wondering could you write a oneshot of how zuko's self cautious of his scar and reader just kisses his scar and reassures him and tells him that hes perfect and that she loves everything abt him. This is in a very like intimate and loving way ykyk
a/n: ah this plot is so sweet! had to rewrite this piece a few times before landing on something i liked so i hope you enjoy!
summary: zuko asks you to remove his bandages
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“Are you sure you want me to do this? I can fetch Iroh instead.”
“No,” comes Zuko’s soft reply, his sullen features bathed in candle light. “I want it to be you.”
Sighing softly, you give him an understanding nod and press a careful kiss to his check. The Prince remains stoic in spite of your show of affection, simply signaling for you to proceed.
It’s been a week since the Agni Kai, and the healer has given Zuko the okay to remove his bandages. The wound should be healed by now, nothing but a painless scar with a painful memory attached to it. It’s not only your first time seeing Zuko’s new face but his as well, and neither of you are sure what to expect.
You were honestly surprised when the Prince had asked for you to be the one to remove his bandages. He’d been cold and standoffish with you since your departure from the Fire Nation, something you couldn’t blame him for considering all he’d been through, but you didn’t expect him to trust you with something so important so soon. It made you nervous, but it also made you relieved to know he still felt he could trust you with such things.
Your fingers work carefully as you unravel the white cloth around his head, doing your best not to cause too much discomfort for your Prince. He says nothing as you move and only watches you through the reflection of the mirror before him.
“Are you ready?” You ask him softly, hesitating as you reach the final layer of wrapping.
“Hesitation is a sign of weakness,” Zuko replies gruffly, and that’s all you need to hear before finally pulling away the last of the bandages.
The room is silent and tense as Zuko stares at his own reflection. The skin around his eye is angry and red, permanently damaged and forever serving as a reminder of his failure. He can hardly see out of his left eye, but he’s still able to make out your figure watching on silently as he assesses the damage.
“Go ahead and say it.”
“Say what, Zuko?” You murmur softly, carefully resting a hand upon his back.
“Say you’re disgusted by me. Say you’re repulsed,” he snarls bitterly. “Say that you’re too embarrassed to be seen with such a failure!”
“Is that really what you think?” You utter sadly, a pained smile on your lips as you carefully reach out to touch his face. His hand immediately flies up to catch your wrist in a firm grip before you can get any closer, and despite the discomfort it brings you make no attempt to move.
“It’s what I know.”
“Then you must not know me at all,” you counter with a small shake of your head.
Reality sets in and Zuko guiltily removes his ironclad grip on your wrist. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh with you, but there’s an amalgamation of emotions festering within him at the sight of his deformity. He was a Prince, he wasn’t meant to look like this, he wasn’t meant to be out at sea fruitlessly trying to find the Avatar so he could end his banishment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“You’re perfect, Zuko,” you console with a careful brush of your fingertips against the freshly healed skin. His eyes flutter shut at the comforting sensation, and you take it as a sign to continue. “I love you the way you are, and this scar doesn’t change that.”
He can’t help but gasp when he feels the softness of your lips pressing against his temple. How could you not feel sickened by him? How could you still love him after everything?
“Your scar is nothing but a sign of your strength, I hope you know that,” you tell him before pressing another kiss to his cheek just below his eye.
He says nothing in response, but you know that he understands you. With you, he doesn’t have to feel shame or guilt. Your love for him knows no bounds, and there’s nothing he could do that would ever make you turn away from him.
He sits in silence as you begin to apply a soothing balm to his skin. His eyes close in contentment and for the first time since leaving home he finally feels at peace.
He knows then that he made the right choice in having you be the one to remove his bandages. No one sees him like you do, and it’s more than he could ever ask for.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
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findmeinforks · 8 months
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The Incident - Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader
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A little one shot that I just couldn't stop writing. A good angst to fluff (btw my fics will never be all angst, im too soft). Also do not fear, Im working on a Sam fic and part 3 to not letting you go. But you let ME know what you think of this one ❤️ 2K words
"My SISTER, Paul. She's my fucking SISTER!" you yelled, voice hoarse as your throat cracked.
"I could give a SHIT LESS WHAT SHE IS. YOU'RE. NOT. GOING." He screamed, jaw taut as he tried his best to subside the tremors that were threatening to take over his body.
You ignored the teeth he bared, shaking your head and scoffing.
"Aren't you tired of this?! I'm going over there. I HAVE to know she's safe."
"YOU SERIOUSLY THINK I'LL JUST SIT BY AND WATCH MY IMPRINT GO TO A PLACE WHERE I CAN'T PROTECT HER? WHAT ABOUT ME KNOWING THAT YOU'RE SAFE?? HUH?? YOU'RE SICK IF YOU THINK I WOULD BE OKAY WITH THIS!"
"Sick?!? SICK?!? LETS TALK ABOUT HOW 'SICK' IT IS THAT YOU WOULD WANT TO KILL HER AND THE BABY. THATS MY FAMILY PAUL!"
"AND WERE NOT?"
It had been like this for a week straight. Ever since the pack stormed through the door announcing their mission to kill Bella and the unborn child within her.
You felt as though your two families had been pinned against each other. Head spinning at the idea of there being a 'choice' between your sister and imprint.
On one hand you were desperate to make sure she was alright, but also exhausted at the never ending battle with your boyfriend.
Sure you had talked to Bella over the phone, but you didn't buy into the lies like your father had. Even though you knew significantly more than he did, she still attempted to downplay the situation. She had done this numerous times since getting thrown into the vampire world, but she could only keep you in the dark for so long before you unraveled the truth.
You had to see her. Even if it was the last time. By fate, or at the hands of the pack. You had to be there for her, as she would you.
Leaving your imprint though? Was at task challenging at best. On at least four different occasions you fought with Paul for so long that Emily and Sam had to intervene, prying you two apart at the pleads of other pack members.
Emily would console you while you ranted and Sam would make Paul run off his anger in the woods. When you faced him again, it turned into a rerun of the same argument. Nobody in the house had gotten sleep, and the things were progressively getting worse.
Quil came through the door, widening his eyes.
"Just a heads up everyone, a little comedic relief does not go over well. I saw my life flash before Paul's eyes." He huffed before sitting down.
"When is this going to be overrrr?" Embry whined. He shoved his head in his hands on the kitchen table while you and Paul went at it in the front yard.
Emily sighed.
"Unfortunately sooner than you think....Y/N packed her suitcase this morning." She said quietly.
"You're not really going to let her go over there are you?!?" Kim stood up, looking at both Emily and Sam.
"If you would like to stop her, please, be my guest." Sam motioned his hand to outside, where you and Paul could be seen through the window. You were throwing your arms up and pointing fingers at him, while his voice boomed loudly, towering his large frame over yours.
Kim winced.
You had always been the calm to Paul's raging storm. 'Made him all soft' as the guys would tease. None of them had actually seen you two disagree with each other. In the mind link they saw glimpses of minor arguments, most of the time being reconciled in the sheets..
Paul eventually got an order by Sam to think about something else while on patrol. 'Literally, anything else'.
"She's not going anywhere. I can count on my hand how many times they've been apart since he imprinted. They'll work it out eventually." Jared said as he pulled Kim on his lap, taking a hunk out of his apple.
Kim didn't share a look that she believed him, worriedly looking out to where you stood.
A few moments passed when her body stiffened and she gasped, making Jared look where she was.
"SHIT! SHIT!" He said, throwing Kim off his lap.
Sam turned to look out the window in time to see Paul phase, his sharp claw making contact with your skin. Your blood curdling scream instantly had everyone else off their seats, nearly knocking each other over to race outside.
You laid on the ground as your body wracked with sobs, clutching your side. Blood gushed through your hand as you started to panic, scrambling to stand. The large silver wolf only stood for a few moments before Paul shifted back, completely horrified as he frantically tried to reach you.
He felt his heart nearly rip out of his chest as you backpedaled into Emily, who was helping to hold you upright.
"NO! NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! IM DONE!" You cried.
Sam stood in the middle of the two of you.
Paul could feel his chest caving in, hand out, speaking more gently than he had at all in the past week.
"B-baby. Please. Please, I'm- I'm so sorry baby. Please let me just see-"
"NO! I'm done. I'm done. I'm leaving. I'm done." You repeated like a mantra, limping to the car.
"Y/N you cannot drive like this..." Emily attempted to say as she stepped in from behind you. She could see your anxiety was heightened, and afraid to set you off further.
"I have to go," you choked, on the verge of tears as you tried to open the drivers side. You had yet to even notice the gash in your side, adrenaline pumping wildly through your body.
Paul made his way around Sam, grabbing your other arm that was holding the door.
"You are crazy if you think I'm letting you leave like this. Please come-"
You yanked your arm from his grasp.
"Don't. Let me go!" You said coldly.
Paul froze. He couldn't move. You never spoke to him like this. Even in the numerous fights you two had this week.
Every single instinct in his body needed to help you. He knew you were downplaying your injuries. He knew he just royally fucked everything up. But the absolute last thing you could do was walk into a house full of vampires dripping in blood. Fucking doctor or not.
"Come inside and let me take a look at you, okay? Please." Emily said to coax you, frantically looking at your wound.
This made Sam follow her gaze, looking down to see the blood pouring from your side hadn't stopped, and you were growing paler by the minute.
"Y/N....you're going to stay here and I'll call Sue." He said in an authoritative voice, leaving no room to argue as he turned to start dialing the number.
You almost argued. You almost fought both of them on the subject. Your stubbornness almost won.
But you felt an immense pain. So strong you don't know how the hell you didn't notice it when you stood up.
That couldn't be good.
"....Y/N?" Paul said, barely above a whisper. Tears were now silently streaming down his face as he held both hands out slightly. Not close enough to touch you but to be prepared in case you fell.
You could feel yourself start to float in and out of consciousness. You tried to ground yourself by focusing on something. You looked at his hands that were outstretched.
Those hands that you held on your first date. The hands that hover your back anywhere you go. The hands that lift you up from the couch on movie nights to bring you to bed. The hands that move in just the right way when making love to you. The hands that were now shaking, not out of anger, but fear. You loved those hands.
"Y/N? Baby?" Paul said louder, more urgently as he could see you fading.
You watched him get blurry as the world started to spin.
"Paul," you murmured, before fading into darkness. The last thing you remember were the hands that caught you before you hit the ground.
"Y/N!!!" Paul screamed as he caught your body falling into him.
Sam ran back, telling him Sue was just up the street. He instructed Paul to carry you inside and onto the bed. The pack dispersed, each trying to find something to help you such as towels, an emergency kit and pillows.
Paul held you close as he lay you down, while repeatedly whispering in your ear.
"I'm so sorry baby. I'm so-so sorry. I cant lose you. Youre everything to me. I'll never yell at you again. I swear on my life. You can do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want. Please, I love you." Paul pressed kisses to your hairline when Sue and her nurse friend entered.
Jared reluctantly came in behind them to lead Paul out of the room as they worked.
"Come on man, she'll wake up soon I promise."
After he was guided out, Paul slid down to sit on the other side of the door, refusing to move. Jared didn't push it, leaning down to sit next to him.
"Sue's seen this kind of stuff before. Just needs stitching up and stuff," Jared reassured as he put his hand on Paul's shoulder.
"It's not the injuries I'm worried about. So much as what she'll think of me when she wakes up. I....I fucked this one up, Jare."
"If Emily can forgive Sam, I think Y/N will forgive you. She's crazy about your ass."
Paul just nodded, praying he was right.
~
Your eyes fluttered open slowly as you woke. You looked around to see that you had been bandaged up along your left side, an IV attached to your arm sat close by. You attempted to sit up, whining when the pain wouldn't allow it. Within a few minutes Emily entered, her face showing relief.
"You're up! How are you feeling?" She checked the IV before sitting on the edge of the bed, careful of your body.
"Sore...where's, where's Paul?" Your heart ached as you started to replay what happened. There was no doubt in your mind what happened was an accident. You had seen the signs he always warned you about, and chose to ignore them in the heat of the argument. Not only that, but the look on his face when you had refused him was too much to bare.
Emily smiled, not expecting you to want to see him so soon.
"He's just outside the door. Hasn't moved. He didn't know if you'd want to see him..."
"I need to talk to him."
It hadn't even been a few seconds when Paul stood at the door. He looked more out of shape than you did. The disheveled hair and dark circles under his eyes told you he hadn't slept in days.
"I'll give you two some space. Just holler if you need anything," Emily spoke as she stood up, making her way around him and down the stairs.
Paul remained where he stood,
"If you don't want to be with me I understand. I have no words for my actions other than I am so...." he cleared his throat, trying not to cry. "So incredibly sorry I put you through this. I put you in danger when I was trying to keep you out of it. You don't have to stay I-"
"Paul please just kiss me." You interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest as you already made up your mind in forgiving him.
He stood for just a moment longer, trying to comprehend if he heard you correctly. It was when you weakly opened your arms for him that he wasted no time in rushing over to you, cupping your face and gently yet passionately kissed you with everything he had. Tears flowed his cheeks at the relief that you still wanted him. Even after everything he had put you through.
You two pulled back for air after a moment, and you ran your hand through his hair.
"I forgive you, okay? I can't imagine my life without you."
He let out a breath, smiling for the first time in weeks.
"It will never happen again. I swear on my fucking life baby." He caressed your hair, neck, landing his palm on your heart.
You two sat like that for awhile. Almost scared to leave each other's presence. You two talked for hours on the bed. Paul had confessed that the night before, while you were sleeping, the pack had fought with the Cullens. You learned that Paul refused to go, not wanting to leave your side. You were grateful to hear that Sam didn't push on him being there, knowing you were all that mattered to him, and he'd refuse him if he had too. Even if it went against his every instinct as a wolf. Turns out that Jacob had imprinted on your niece, and Bella had survived, now as a vampire.
You weren't particularly thrilled your sister was now a bloodsucker, but as long as she was alive, you were happy.
Paul eventually made his way to the other side of the bed, kissing every exposed inch of you, whispering all the things he loved about you in your ear until you fell asleep.
When your heartbeat slowed down and he was sure you were out, he reached down and felt the velvet box in his pocket. No doubt in his mind about the future you both held.
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ultravioletrayz · 3 months
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Hiiiii since u take nsfw requests, can I get one of FEM!reader pegging Miguel? I just need to see his tight hole pounded by his sweet girl's strap for a change. Thank you!
SO yummy omg.
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Pairing: sub!miguel o’hara x dom!f!reader
Warnings: 18+, praise kink, prone bone, use of strap-on, anal (m. receiving)
Summary: you give miguel a well-deserved break
A/N: was weighing up making this mean dom or soft dom reader but opted for soft dom because migs is just a stressed little baby 🥺 (he's a 6'9, mutant adult man who could kick me so hard I fly into the sun and disintegrate)
Word Count: 831 (not proofread, probably some errors towards the end)
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After a long, demanding day of work, all Miguel wanted was some kind of relief, which he immediately found in your embrace. Your touch, your scent, your smile, it all made Miguel feel at ease. Your presence allowed him to sink further into the mattress as you sit on top of his ass, your hands kneading and massaging the taut musculature of his broad shoulders. He couldn’t help the breathy moans leaving his plump lips as his muscles unravelled from their tense knots… and your hips pressed against his ass after a particularly deep thrust.
You pull your sparkly black strap-on almost all the way out so that the silicone is just kissing his puckered hole, before bottoming out once again in a slow, sensual rhythm that has Miguel mewling. His body lays flat against the bed, handsome face tucked away on top of his folded arms to muffle his pretty sounds, his heavy cock messily grinding against the plush mattress in time with your thrusts, the sheets damp and stained with cum and sweat.
“Así, mami. Se siente tan bien, tan jodidamente bien.” Miguel whimpers, lifting his hips up to meet your deep strokes with a choked whine. The sound of the lube squelching inside of his ass and both of your exasperated huffs make Miguel feel lightheaded, his renowned intellect becoming unintelligible babbling as the big dildo strapped to your stunning body stretches him out and drags against his tight walls. This moment with you, not worrying about his responsibilities or being in control, feels like heaven. Miguel has been craving a release, a way to force himself to escape the pressures of being a leader, and a protector. What better way than getting fucked by his pretty girl? (“Just like that, mommy. Feels so good, so fucking good.”)
With his fangs exposed, his claws tearing through the sheets, and throaty groans escaping from his lips, Miguel melts onto your cock. Miguel feels his stress dissipating with each thrust, your fat strap's bulbous head nuzzling his most sensitive, deepest parts and massaging his prostate. To keep Miguel somewhat grounded, you place a hand on his toned, slender waist. You also remind yourself to keep your gentle rhythm and concentrate on Miguel's pleasure, even though part of you wants to see the man who regularly spears you on his cock receive the same, deliciously rough treatment. But Miguel needs this moment of love and devotion, and you’ll do anything to remind your handsome man of your devotion to him and how proud you are of him.
“This tight hole was made for me, taking me so well,” You whisper, leaning over his wide, muscular back so that your honeyed praises still reach his fucked-out brain. “Mi niño bonito. You love my cock so much, huh, Mig?”
Miguel struggles to lift his head from his forearms, but he does so to look back at you, his handsome face covered in drool and tears as your sweet words and deep thrusts cause his eyes to roll back and he nods dumbly in response. You watch with awe and parted lips as Miguel’s hole pulses around you, causing the remnants of lube inside of him to bubble and ooze down his cheeks. It makes you giggle to see him approaching his climax once again, your hips rolling against him passionately as your hands wander across the glistening tan skin of his back, gliding your fingertips across his muscles and scars to worship his body as you make love to him.
His jaw goes slack as he moans and whines as you angle your sparkly strap-on to caress his sweet spot, the benevolence of your thrusts making him conflicted between crying and cumming. Against his own will, he chooses the latter.
Miguel desperately humps the ruffled sheets beneath him as he bucks his hips back and forth to encourage the depth of your movements, but the second your hands squeeze his waist to remind him to calm down and let you take care of him, he’s shooting thick, sticky ropes of his delicious cum into the puddle of his past loads accumulating beneath his abs, the sudden warmth against his bare skin making him whimper as his thick thighs shake and his back arches, subsequently making his ass press against the base of your strap-on.
“Sh-Shock’s sake…” Miguel pants, letting his head fall back down against his sturdy arms as you pull out of him, tapping his spasming hole with the tip of your silicone cock to beckon a few more moans from Miguel. “Gracias, mi reina. N-Needed that. Needed you to make me feel good.”
“Of course, baby. Anytime. I’m here for you.” You whisper, climbing off of Miguel and laying on your side next to him, the bedsheets squelching underneath you as Miguel’s cum spreads and darkens the material. The mess of juices was gonna be a bitch to clean up. But then again, so was the mess that is Miguel O’Hara.
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I'm feeling evil and wanna post some miguel angst soon.
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velvetures · 9 months
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Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.
So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.
So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!
Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))
I Knew, Sweetheart
A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.
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John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.
Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.
Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.
You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.
A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.
John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.
At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.
Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.
God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.
Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.
Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.
“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.
“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”
He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”
Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.
He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”
You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.
John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.
“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.
You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.
“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.
“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.
“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.
Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.
“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.
“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.
“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.
“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.
He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.
“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”
“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”
“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”
His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.
John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.
In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.
“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.
Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.
Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.
“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.
“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.
“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.
“Give me hand, Captain?”
He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.
The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.
“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.
“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.
His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.
John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable
With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.
Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.
“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”
His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.
John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.
Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.
Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.
“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.
It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.
“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.
Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.
God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.
Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.
“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”
Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.
“Please, I want this. I want you John.”
Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.
“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.
“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.
Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.
“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.
Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.
Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.
Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.
“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.
You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.
“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.
You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.
He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.
Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.
Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.
“I love you, John. More than anything.”
He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“You’re my best friend.”
He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.
“You’re mine too.”
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yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.
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cambion-companion · 8 months
Note
Here’s ya girl who has gone completely feral over astarion. He’s the babiest baby. Okay, here’s the prompt. My characterisation could be a bit (or a lot lol) off bc I haven’t played the game Y E T so feel free to change the things that seem OOC.
Established relationship, but the beginnings of it, on a mission to find a way for astarion to be in the sun again. Reader has given astarion time to work on his sexual trauma so they haven’t been having sex for some time. Reader is 100% ok w that. But they have a big argument over something (not related to sex) and astarion doesn’t know how to resolve the situation other than reverting back to his seductive artifice and using sex as a way to ensure his safety (in this case, emotional safety). Reader figures it out because they (or she) are not dumb. They reassure astarion and he lets himself be vulnerable but also, it turns out that astarion wants that sexual intimacy. But reader decides this will be all about astarion and making him feel good and loved. Body worship, astarion’s praise kink, just everything focused on astarion’s pleasure in a way he has never experienced and that makes him completely unravel once he comes. Not a subby reader, tho. You know me, I don’t do subby.
If this is too long of a prompt, just the sexy part will be ok. Thank you so much, i have such astarion brainrot DDDD:
I Want to Live
word count: 1700
gn!reader x Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic | 18+ only
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"I don't think we should use the tadpoles for anything, Astarion." You put your hands on your hips, glaring at the sulky Elf in front of you.
This tense conversation between the two of you had gone on far longer than you'd have liked. Astarion seemed insistent on using whatever advantage the Illithids had unintentionally given your party. Despite not yet knowing the implications of doing so.
Astarion's silver hair glinted in the firelight that warmed your back, his eyes shone like droplets of blood. "You might as well leave me alone, spoilsport." He waved an imperious hand in your direction, sneering at you in the way he knew would hurt you most. "Since you insist on being boring and unimaginative."
You ground your teeth. "I'm trying to keep us safe."
"And a fine job you're doing, my sweet." His lilting voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you ask Arabella how her parents are doing?" He paused, then feigned surprise. "Oh wait..."
Your eyes widened as a jolt of genuine pain lanced through your heart at his callous words. Astarion was aiming to do damage and, like always, he knew how to push your buttons.
Magic sparked at the end of your fingertips as you fought to control your rage. It was the lack of verbal response that alerted Astarion to the fact he might have pushed a little too far with you. His face almost looked regretful for a moment, or perhaps it was a trick of the firelight casting shadows across his features. You didn't gain much insight because of the tears blurring your vision as you quickly turned away and strode as far away from the vampire spawn as you could.
Shadowheart, who always seemed to overhear everything, cast a worried glance your direction before leveling a glare on Astarion who still watched after you with a blank look.
You sat yourself upon your bedroll before the campfire and listened to Volo squeakily tune his lute. Wyll and Gale were over by their tents chatting and Lae'zel sat on a boulder by the river sharpening her sword.
You had thought Astarion would understand and perhaps even agree with you, and the rest of the camp for that matter, that the parasites should not be utilized to gain control of other beings. It was convenient and downright useful, yes...but not worth an unknown cost.
You had thought...since that night when the two of you had become intimate...that he'd maybe come to care for you. But that jab about Arabella's parents, who you'd failed to save, only confirmed that the vampire did not have your best interests at heart.
Sighing, you moved your bedroll away from its usual place beside Astarion's and arranged it next to where Karlach slept. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes watching you move about but you didn't much care at the moment.
Karlach gave you a curious and concerned look as she came over and got comfortable for the night. "Are you alright? I could hear you and Astarion going at it...and not in the fun way."
You grunted and moved your body to the side so you could scrape out a rock that had been digging into your back. "It's fine. He's just an ass." You said these words loud enough for him to hear.
Karlach shrugged and nodded as if this were common knowledge. She gave you a jolting pat on the back before getting comfortable in her own bedroll.
As the breathing patterns of your companions slowly deepened in slumber, you could not find any rest. You tossed and turned as best you could in such primitive sleeping arrangements. You missed your bed back in Baldur's Gate above the taproom of the Shadowcat Claw, the familiar bustle of voices and a mug of ale in your belly lulling you to sleep. Out in this wilderness, with the thought of your argument with Astarion tugging at your thoughts...you had to get up.
As quietly as you could, you slid out of your bedroll and got to your feet. A quick observation of your companions told you they were all in a deep sleep. All except Lae'zel who sat on the boulder still, keeping silent watch. She nodded at you curtly as you passed and didn't ask any questions, for which you were grateful.
You crept through the foliage down to the place in the forest by the river where you and Astarion had had your midnight tryst. You could still feel his moonlight hair running through your fingers, his fangs on your neck as you arched it just for him. The trust...you thought you had at least earned a little bit of his trust.
"I thought I'd find you here." His voice was velvet, it shivered straight through your defenses to your heart.
"I wanted to be alone, Astarion." You tried to keep your own voice cool and collected, but you ached to hold him in your arms again.
Astarion had followed you from the campsite into the woods. He'd been fully aware of your restlessness, of course he had. He entered your line of sight now, looking very much like a cat stalking its prey. His ruby eyes were dark and trained on your face. "Come now, you're far too obvious for all this bluster. Do you not want to feel me again?" He gave you a crooked smile, showing his teeth. "A second taste, perhaps?"
You felt the hollowness of his words and saw the carefully arranged expression he wore like a mask. Beneath the facade you could make out the telltale twitch of a facial muscle, the tenseness of his eyes, indicating anxiety.
You sighed. "I thought we were passed these games."
"Games?" Astarion's tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Games are all part of the fun, my dear. So good at getting the blood pumping."
You folded your arms. "I want an apology."
This tripped him up. For a moment the facade slipped, and he seemed genuinely taken aback. "Apologize?" Then he was back to his usual bluster. "Me? Apologize for what?"
"For having a go at me today. Bringing up Arabella's parents when you know how upset I am about it." Astarion made a noise as if to speak but you cut across him. "That was cruel, Astarion, and I deserve better from you."
"I didn't..." Astarion sighs heavily, his eyes glancing down to the ground then back at your face. "I apologize." The words seemed to pain him in some way. "I wanted to get a rise out of you, that's all. Now let's forget about that and have some fun."
You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, saying nothing, simply watching his face lit in the silver moonlight. His unconvincing grin slowly slipped off his face, a troubled frown replacing it. The two of you looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, you spoke.
"You're testing how much I care for you, aren't you?" Your voice was soft, almost inaudible over the rippling stream.
Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback, he seemed to consider taking shelter once more behind his mask of pompous indifference. But then his shoulder's slumped slightly, the fists at his sides loosened. That was all the answer you needed.
You stepped forward and placed your hands around his, tugging him closer. He did not resist, his footfalls light as ever as he drew near. Close enough to feel his breath warm your lips.
"I care about you, Astarion." Your voice was still soft amidst the rustling leaves and sparkling water. "I discourage you from using the tadpole's powers because I couldn't bear to see your will overtaken by yet another monster."
Astarion was silent for a long time, his scarlet eyes turned silver as a moonbeam fell across his pallid face. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "What if it's too late for me? To be anything other than a monster? My only choice is which one." He laughs forcefully, bitterness twisting his mouth.
"I won't let that happen." You encircled him tenderly in a hug, pulling him to rest flush against your body. "We're in this...together."
"Together." The word was echoed back to you, his voice framing the syllables as if it were a foreign tongue.
You turned your face into him and kissed his neck softly, feeling his body tense in your arms and then slowly relax. You kept your lips against his skin, over where Cazador had sunk his fangs all those centuries ago.
Astarion's hands slowly slid up your hips to rest against your lower back as he held you close. Your lips caressed his neck, throat and trailed up to his jaw until you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you." You murmured.
You felt him tense again, not pushing you away, but his hands tightened on your back. "I..." Astarion hesitated. "I'm not quite ready to say those words back to you, my dear."
"I know." You felt no anger, no hurt. You accepted him however he wished to come to you, grateful for this rare moment of vulnerability beneath the stars.
You pushed him back gently until his back made contact with the base of a large sycamore tree. A huff of air left his lungs, quickly claimed by your mouth as you kissed him hungrily this time. Your hands made quick work of his clothing and Astarion became eager to help the process along.
"Vixen." He murmured and you laughed against his lips, your tongues teasing each other.
"You're beautiful, Astarion." You held his face in your hands and kissed his mouth lightly, not allowing him to turn away even as the compliment made his eyes search yours for hints of disingenuity. "I want nothing from you in return." You said firmly, reading his emotional turmoil through your shared Illithid connection. "This is just for you." You kissed his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. "To keep."
Astarion's head fell back to rest against the tree trunk as you continued lavishing affection upon him. He moaned your name softly to the night sky as you slowly sunk to your knees before him, the dirt and rocks digging unheeded against your knees. His fingers twisted in your hair and guided you to where he wanted you most.
"Good, my love." You praised him, your words causing his body to shake with increasing pleasure. "Show me."
The night was long and full of bliss. A genuine exchange of pleasure, without the previous facades and plays at affection. You felt the change as surely as he did, and when the others awoke in the morning it was to find your bedroll pulled back right next to where Astarion lay curled against you.
~
"You owe me five gold, Shadowheart." Gale mumbled.
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rieriel · 3 months
Text
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄
「content」 1.6k+ wc, fem!reader, reader wears heels, established relationship, cunnilingus, edging, praise, fingering, pet names, just satoru putting your heels on 🎀
☆ in which: gojo satoru isn't above kneeling if it means getting to taste you
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You should have known it was a bad idea to let Satoru stay in the same room while you got ready for your weekly date nights.
And you should have known that by now, the only thing you're getting ready for is to unravel beneath him.
The man in question is seated on your shared bed, legs invitingly apart, elbows resting on each knee. He watches every step you make, from applying glitters to your eyelids to finally putting on jewelry as the finishing touch. With all the years you’re together, Satoru isn’t particularly ashamed to admit how this is one of the many things he likes doing with you. Shockingly, it’s also one of the few things that could make him go quiet.
He just sits there and watches you, without uttering a single word. To anyone who knows him, that’s as bizarre as cows flying around.
You're ready to go, but the sudden presence of a warm body looming behind you suggests otherwise.
“Satoru,” you warn, feeling his large hands holding you by the hips, his long fingers tracing patterns across the fabric of your dress.
“You look so good in this dress,” he breathes into your ear, “Can we not go, baby, please? Want you all for m’self.”
“I'm all yours,” you affirm, a soft smile playing on your lips from a rather devious idea you thought of.
Earning a satisfied hum of response from the white-haired, you turn around to face him, halting his indulgence of littering featherlight kisses in your nape down to your exposed shoulders.
You place your hands on his neck, chest against his own, and murmured in his lips, “But after we go to this restaurant, please? I’ve been wanting to go there, baby.”
Ah, you used it against him—the pet name and the pleading eyes.
You know better than anyone that he can never say no to that. It's all it takes for your lover to do your bidding in a heartbeat, because it’s no secret how much he was a goner for you. He lets everyone know that as clear as day, anyway. 
“Fine,” he pouts.
Beaming, you plant a peck on his lips, and before Satoru can chase your lips with his own, you release him to turn once again to your vanity mirror.
“Oh, by the way, can you get my black heels for me?”
“The ones I like?” Even with your back turned, you can practically see the bashful smile playing on his lips from his chirped voice.
“Yup. That one, baby.”
Without a minute passing by, Satoru again appears behind you, holding a pair of black stilettos in one hand. You're just about to grab them from him when he raises them above your reach.
“We’re going to be late, Toru.”
“We won’t,” he assures, a boyish grin materializing on his lips. And god, he is so unbelievably handsome in his crisp suit— you're starting to regret insisting on going out now.
“Let me?” he asks, head slightly tilting to the side.
“The straps could be tricky…” you trail off. Satoru doesn’t respond, but he holds your gaze before slowly going down on both knees.
All while still not breaking eye contact with you.
You know what he’s trying, and Satoru knows perfectly well it’s working.
Satoru places the heels in front of your feet and holds your left calf to slide on the left pair. Your dress rises at the slight raise of your leg, making your breath hitch at the sensation of his warm breath grazing your exposed inner thigh.
The sound of your reaction is everything he needed to make the two of you late on that dinner reservation.
As he finishes putting both straps of the heels, you wait for him to stand– your intentions clear on staking claim on his lips as payback. But all expectations were replaced with arousal building up on your center as Satoru nuzzles his nose closer to your navel, sinking inch by inch in height to reach what’s down below.
“You smell so good, baby…” he mumbles, “Let me taste you, baby, please. It will be just a taste, I promise…” you could hardly make out what he’s saying from how muffled his voice is because of how close he’s pressing his face to your front, taking your scent and letting it consume him.
The strongest— on his knees, begging just for a taste. What a sight to behold, truly.
“T-Toru,” you stuttered, “Just a taste,” you gave in, echoing his needs.
All hell breaks loose for Satoru the moment those words escape your lips. He took one more glance from your pretty flushed face down to your feet, taking his time to marvel at you. He loves you in dresses like these— short and easy to access. Not to mention how divine it hugs your tits.
His left hand, once resting in your leg, started making its way to lift the hem of your dress— enough to expose your lace panties that weren't covering much to begin with.
Oh, heavens, pray heed of his greed because there was no getting enough of you. Knowing that you wore this intentionally just for him made his cock throb and his pants to tighten. 
You let out a gasp when your lover started drawing circles on your clothed pussy, going far beyond slowly sliding his index finger back and forth in between your legs, teasing you.
“Satoru,” you hiss, “Do not tease me.”
“But you’re so wet, princess…” he hums before sliding his long finger at your arousal, “All of it for me?”
“Yes —yes, all of it, ‘s for you, toru.”
“Damn right it’s for me. This pussy is f’ me— made just for me.” 
Familiar fingers looped around the waist of your panties, gently pulling it down your knees.
Even though you’re wearing a four-inch stiletto, his face was now perfectly leveled with your pussy. And just before you prepare yourself for what he intends to, Satoru leans in to plant a wet kiss before hungrily delving his tongue in your folds making knees buckle in pleasure.
“Oh, dear god— there, keep me there..” you whimpered. He put one hand behind your right knee for support. Fingers gently tapping against your knees, as if asking you to look at him as he sloppily eats you out. 
“S-Satoru—” 
“Satoru? Oh, I thought I was dear god, baby,” he teases, smirk evident in his voice.
Satoru looked up, tongue still deep in your clit, to gaze at you. He couldn’t help but swallow hard upon seeing how you were slightly gaping with your eyes shut, obviously blissed out. Fuck, you look so pretty.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he whispered, every breath of his words fanning against your flesh, making you shiver. “Watch how good I make you feel.”
He waits for you to look at him before flicking his tongue at your wetness— the action making you instinctively grip on his white mop of hair. Satoru felt your hands aimlessly guiding his head to lap more at your cunt. 
More, more, more— you need him badly. Needy, you grind your hips against his face, strong jaw touching the sides of your inner thighs. 
Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows you’re close— so he stops, licking his lips to clean your sweetness that’s almost dripping down his chin.
“Don’t stop, toru. I– I’m close, please. Please–”
“Shhh— I know, baby. I know,” he chuckles, “Would you be a good girl and do something f’me, baby? It’s for you, I promise.”
“Anything… anything! Just please…” you plead, almost tearing. So close, you’re so close. 
Satoru was on his knees, but it felt more like you were the one at his very mercy. Every touch, every sigh, pushed you closer to the edge, the brink of a pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable.
“Put your leg on my shoulder and stand firmer. Can my pretty girl do that for me, hm?”
“I can’t, toru– too weak for it..”
“You can and you will, baby,” he interrupts your whine. 
You did as he told, and lay one of your legs over his shoulder as your other stood firmer in heels. You felt one of Satoru’s hands snaking up to your ass, holding you in place.
“See? now, that’s a good girl,” he cooed at you. Deciding you deserve a treat for your obedience, he slides two fingers in your clit– pumping them in and out while his tongue does wonders circling your cunt.
A loud moan escaped your lips, involuntary, as desire pulsed through you. Dazed and breathless, you look down at your lover only to be met with his clear sky eyes looking up at you. His eyes, dilated with need and want— all at once, revealed a hunger you know you will be paying for to satisfy.
“Tell me, baby” he dared, “should I cancel our reservation?”
The only answer Satoru got from his pretty girlfriend was her loud mewls, heavy breaths, and the shivering of hips against his hold. Your cum dripping from your clit straight to his mouth.
That’s better than a yes, he chuckles in thought.
“Yeah. I thought so, too, pretty girl,” he licks his lips before carrying you to bed to continue where you left off.
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『 ↳✧・゚ minimal proofread! :>
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starsinmylatte · 4 months
Text
How to (not) Study for an Anatomy Exam
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Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!reader
Rating: Explicit (18+) Minors DNI
Length: 2.1k
You're in medical school with Shoko, but she's bailed on your group study session. Good thing an old friend turns up to help... Wait, what was the next chapter on, again?
Tags: Oral (m receiving), the awakening of a dom/sub dynamic, hair pulling, praise
Join my taglist here!
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You pushed the eraser end of the pencil further into your brow, groaning as you forced yourself to read just one more page….. But, then again, this was also your fifth “last page” in a row. Shoko had abandoned your group study session hours ago to go out drinking, and your fatigue had finally set in. 
“Ugh, maybe if I force myself to read it out loud,” you muttered, shifting restlessly. 
“The amygdala is an integral part of the lim-” The door opened with a firm click, and you trailed off in surprise, dropping your head back against the couch pillow with an exasperated sigh. 
“Satoru, I swear to god, if you interrupt me again, I will personally shove-” 
A low chuckle interrupted your threat, “It’s just me. Please finish your sentence, though. That threat against Gojo did sound promising.” 
You groaned, draping the heavy medical textbook over your face to hide the way your cheeks flushed at the sound. “Nanami, I thought you were working tonight.” 
“I was,” he acknowledged. You could hear him walk across the room, and the couch cushion suddenly dipped with his additional weight. Nanami sighed and sat something down on the coffee table with an audible clink. You could hear the sound of a canned drink being opened, and the delicious, blessed scent of coffee filled the air. 
Overly eager for the sweet, sweet hit of caffeine, you bolted upright fast enough to launch the textbook off your face. It fell and hit your thigh, drawing a slight whine from your lips as you snatched the coffee from Nanami’s outstretched hand. You raised it to your lips greedily, instantly downing most of it. 
“I was working tonight, but I clocked out two hours ago,” he continued smoothly, “Do you know what time it is?” 
You pressed the lip of the can to your chin, your expression mildly guilty as you purposefully avoided looking at your long-time friend. “I was only going to review one more chapter.” 
Nanami simply picked his own can off the table and opened it. Your excuse had apparently fallen on deaf ears; he took a slow drink as you pouted, chuckling at the expression on your face. “Shoko texted me and asked me to come check on you. She hadn’t heard from you since she left.” 
“We have an exam next week. I don’t know how she can be so carefree when there’s so much to learn,” you muttered. “I don’t need a babysitter just because I chose to study instead of going drinking.” 
Slowly, Nanami reached out and placed his hand under your chin, tipping your head towards him. His expression was slightly cross, but you were preoccupied with much more important things. The dark suit your “long-time friend” wore fit him unfairly well, and seeing him dressed up only worsened the way you actually felt about him. You’d nursed a crush on him for years, and at this point, you were determined to take that secret to your grave. 
The other glaringly obvious thing slipped out of your mouth before you could formulate a more intelligent sentence. “I… I can see your forehead now,” you stammered. 
Nanami arched a single, golden eyebrow in mild amusement. “I got a haircut yesterday.”
You stared at him. The way his golden hair was swept back tugged at your already suffering heart; it was so mature, so achingly fitting for Nanami. It felt like a small eternity passed as your tired mind unraveled. 
Were his shoulders always this broad? His eyes are such a beautiful color. Oh shit, his hand is under my chin still…. W-were they always this big? I wonder what they would feel like-
“One more chapter!” You squealed loudly, wishing you could trade your reverse curse technique in for the ability to phase through the floor. “One more chapter, and then I’ll take a break.” 
“One more chapter, and then you’ll get some sleep,” Nanami corrected, removing his hand from your chin. You felt a small pang of disappointment at the loss of his touch, but you shrugged it off. 
“Fine,” you conceded, mentally shoving the respectable, hard-working part of your brain back in charge. 
Nanami settled back into his corner of the couch, taking another sip of his coffee. “Can I help you somehow? I have no idea how this type of studying works.” 
He gestured vaguely at the stack of medical books, and you tried to stifle a giggle. “Here, you can quiz me using the pre-chapter questions.”
Nanami nodded, turning his focus to the textbook, and you flipped it open, happy to have him there to help you finish strong… until you were brutally reminded what the next chapter was. You blankly stared at the page titled “Male Reproductive Anatomy” until you closed the cover and stood without another word. Forget phasing through the floor; you wanted to teleport directly to the North Pole and never return. 
“On second thought, I think I’ll just go to bed now,” You looked at the blank wall for moral support, face crimson red.
“I mean, I could still help you study… If you wanted..” He offered nonchalantly. 
You whipped your head back around to look at Nanami, whose cheeks were dusted with pink. For a brief moment, he was blushing like the teenage boy you had once offered to share headphones with, but as he stood, his deep brown gaze locked into yours, and you could only see the calm, capable man he had grown into.  “But I don’t think we will need the textbook.” 
You nodded slowly, and Nanami wordlessly scooped all of your textbooks and study materials into his arms. The two of you made the trip up the stairs to your room in record time. He shoved everything onto your desk haphazardly, opting to take you into his arms instead.  
“How long?” He murmured, his deep coffee-colored gaze full of warmth, a warmth you suddenly realized that Nanami had always reserved for you. “How long have we tip-toed around this?” 
You shivered despite the heat of his body as the man you’d loved for years cradled you like a precious flower. His large hands gently rubbed your back, coaxing a sigh from your lips. 
“Too long,” you whispered as you pressed your lips to his. It was gentle, almost reverent at first, and Nanami sighed, deep and rumbling, as he pulled you even closer. Your lips parted briefly before meeting again, the embrace growing more passionate by the second. 
Nanami kissed you like he was trying to commit your taste to his memory like he’d simply die without your lips against his. You were no less eager, reaching up to cup his jaw and pressing your other hand against the swell of his bicep.
Growing bolder, you maneuvered him back until the back of his knees hit your desk chair. Nanami took the hint, parting from the embrace to undo his suit jacket and sit. He gazed up at you, eyes half-lidded and hazy with lust, and grinned lazily. “C’mere then.”
He reached out to pull you onto his lap, but you sidestepped with a wink. Instead, you opted to sink onto your knees, silently delighted by the way his eyes widened in surprise. Ever so slowly, you nudged his legs apart and crawled between them to rest your cheek against his knee. You hummed playfully, tilting your head up to smile at him innocently, “I thought you wanted to help me study… I think I can do that better from here.” 
Nanami dropped his head back against the chair, swearing under his breath. He looped a finger into his tie and quickly ripped it off. It fell to the side unceremoniously, and your grin grew at his usual composure beginning to crack. 
You stroked the inside of his leg with your nails, using just enough pressure for Nanami to feel the touch through his suit pants. He shuddered, and a wicked thought popped into your mind. You grinned again, “Or, if you’ve changed your mind, I could always ask Gojo. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” 
It was an incredibly empty threat; you both knew that, but it still served its intended purpose. The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Nanami sat up, his gaze dark and intense as he leaned down to caress your jaw. The touch would’ve been warm and affectionate at any other time, but this one was slow, controlled, and achingly possessive. 
“Should’ve known you’d be a fucking tease.” He growled, and the words shot straight to your core. Nanami slowly hooked his thumb over your kiss-swollen bottom lip, forcing them to part. You drew in a shaky breath, and it was his turn to smile. 
“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was silken, dangerously quiet. Sparks of molten pleasure flooded your body, and your brain went fuzzy as you nodded. Nanami slipped the rough pad of his thumb over your tongue, slowly stroking it, toying with you as he thought for a moment. You whimpered involuntarily at the initial press of his thick finger, fighting off the urge to lave your tongue over it. He'd almost seem disinterested if you didn’t know him so well, but you could see his eyes glitter with a potent mix of approval and lust.
Nanami paused the movement of his thumb but left it in place to weigh down your tongue. He tenderly shushed your whine of protest and continued to speak, “If you’re good and finish your studying tonight, I’ll reward you….” 
More white-hot pleasure coiled in your stomach, and your pussy throbbed in response. “Mmmmmhmmm,” you managed around his thumb, looking up at him with your best doe eyes. 
He chuckled again, pulling his thumb out and smearing the leftover wetness across your lips. You eyed the obvious strain of his erection greedily, reaching forward to trace its outline. Nanami groaned, his cock twitching even with the slight pressure. “Eager for this, pretty girl?” 
“You have no idea,” you murmured, quickly undoing his belt and pulling his clothing aside just enough to free his thick cock. You bit your lip as you watched the swollen, leaking tip brush against the material of his dress shirt, leaving a tiny smear of precum on the fabric. Nanami hissed at the sensation, tangling one of his large hands in your hair, partially to hold your hair back and partially desperate for something to ground him. You moved even closer to his lap, leaning down to lap at his cockhead. 
He moaned outright at the first touch of your tongue; you began to explore every agonizingly beautiful inch of him, teasing his shaft with your fingers and plush lips. Nanami’s hand dug into your hair as you swirled your tongue around his tip and swiped it over the top to lap up his pre-cum. His hand clenched reflexively at the blinding pleasure, pulling your hair harshly without even meaning to. 
Nanami froze, about to apologize profusely, but you moaned wantonly, plush lips still wrapped around the tip of his cock. He cursed and barked out a low laugh as the vibrations shot straight through him, “Fuck, I didn’t mean to…. Did you like that?”
You nodded as vigorously as you could manage, taking his cock even further into your mouth and nestling his swollen tip snugly into the pouch of your cheek. Drool fell from your lips, trailing down your chin as your tongue laved over his shaft, but you were far too gone to care. You cupped his heavy balls through the fabric of his expensive underwear, massaging them, and Nanami almost came on the spot. 
He twitched and groaned, breath heavy and uneven as you utterly destroyed the normally stoic man. Nanami ran his other hand back through his hair, his breathing heavy as he took a minute to appreciate the sight of you drunk on his cock. 
His balls tightened almost painfully, and Nanami moaned again, low and needy. “Need to stop…. Gonna cu-”
You shot him an incredibly devious, lust-filled look before pulling away and opening your mouth, sticking out your tongue to catch every drop. Nanami hissed at the sight, stroking his shaft furiously. It only took a few more seconds for him to fall apart with a strangled cry, his cum painting your mouth pearly white. His hands slowly pumped up and down, milking the remnants of his orgasm onto your pretty, pink tongue. 
“You’re perfect…. gorgeous…. a goddess… mine now.” Nanami panted. 
Your pussy fluttered as you watched him fall apart, and you ground your thighs together, desperate to find some relief from the ache in your core as you made a small show of swallowing. Nanami only took a few seconds to scoop you up from the floor and deposit you on the bed. 
“Do I get my reward now?” You teased, voice slightly hoarse. 
Nanami looked at you, his brown eyes filled with such sincerity that your heart fluttered. “I’m going to spoil you until you’re sick of me.”
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Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @belle-smith07 @orangecremepuff @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @Msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty
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etfrin · 6 months
Note
Can you write Mike Taking readers virginity or mutual masterbation where he is more dominant and a lot of praise pleasee
⤷❝Here For You | Mike Schmidt❞ˎˊ-
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⇢☾Warning: NSFW | unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), creampie, loss of virginity, praise kink, cunnilingus, fingering (f. receiving) | lmk if I forgot anything!
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⇢☾Pairing: soft dom! Mike x virgin! fem! Reader
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⇢☾Summary: You're a virgin and Mike thinks it's a crime and fixes that!
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⇢☾A/N: hope you like this! i did :))
| masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune
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He had been surprised when he found out about your virginity. Such a pretty girl like you still untouched? It was the crime of the century. Of course, Mike being your friend would do anything to fix that. He would have to start slow, coaxing you to be comfortable with sexual acts, finding pleasure from the intimacy shared with others.
Which was exactly why you were here now, laid on his bed, a feast for his eyes as he sat on the edge. Not getting any closer so that he wouldn't lose his control.
He asked, his voice laced with lust, "Comfortable?" You gave him a nod, your hand cupping your cunt, hiding from his eyes.
"Don't hide then," he instructed, his voice commanding yet gentle. You closed your eyes in anticipation, letting his words wash over you as you removed the hand. You relish the breathless curse he mutters when he sees your folds, slick and creamy with your arousal.
Just for him to taste and unravel.
"So pretty," he whispered, his eyes ablaze, his cock painfully hard but he wouldn't give it any attention, not right now. You feel yourself flush from the praise, it was uttered like it's a fact, undeniable and the truth.
He placed his hands over your thighs to pull them apart and placed himself between your thighs. This was where he rightfully belonged.
His stubble brushed against your inner thighs as he whispered, "I am gonna start slow. Tell me if there's anything wrong, okay?"
When you don't utter a reply, he squeezes your thigh, making a gasp escape your lips from the tight grip. "Okay?" He insisted again.
"Yes, yes Mike," you whispered, your voice seemingly echoing in his bedroom. He pressed a kiss on your inner thigh, meaning to reassure you with the press of his lips on your skin. Not only did that work, it also made your pussy gush out juices. His hot breath hits your sensitive folds in a delicious way that sends your mind reeling despite the fact he hasn't even begun his assault.
Slowly but surely his lips reached their meal. You gasp, your thighs trying to close around his head as you feel the first lick of his tongue on your slick folds.
He squeezed your thighs again in a subtle warning, his nails digging into your skin making crescent marks. His eyes are issuing you a warning to make sure the legs stay apart. You can't do anything but obey with a small whimpering escaping you as confirmation.
Satisfied with the sound you made, Mike used his tongue to glide his tongue across your pussy, gathering your juices on his taste buds in a go. You moan from the broad strokes he does, your lips nearly drooling because of how he was savoring you with each lick. Making you wetter for him with his saliva and the juices that were flowing through your slit. He licks up all the cream with enthusiasm you never thought you would see in him. "You're delicious," he praised as his tongue continued to lave your juices.
He lets out a groan when his lips find your clit, his tongue meeting the bud as his warm mouth sucks the sensitive nub. You let out a loud cry, your body jerking from the sudden onslaught of delicious pleasure filling your nerves. He immediately pulls off, worries laced in his tone, "You okay? Did I do something wrong?"
He adds, "You taste so good, sweetheart. I can't seem to control myself." He leans up to press a small kiss onto your lips, making you taste your arousal. You let out a soft purr. "No, no you didn't. It was… just overwhelming."
He gives you a nod in understanding. He pressed a kiss onto your forehead, "I should have gone slower. You're doing so good, baby. I am proud of you."
A whimper made its way out of your lips, "Thanks." He smiles at you, "Anytime, darling." His fingers make their way down to your body, his fingertips ghosting your clit.
"Want me to continue?" He asked, you immediately whispered a yes in answer. His lips caught your lips into another kiss as his fingers began to play with the swollen bud. Pinching and rolling the bud between his fingers, you moan into his mouth as hot delicious pleasure washes over you.
"So good for me," he whispered against your lips, his finger now pressing into your entrance. His fingers close to breach, before finally he pushed his digits in making you gasp from the burn as his fingers began to massage your walls. "Breath," he instructed, "You're such a good girl. Relax and let me make you feel everything you deserve, beautiful."
You continue to let out little breathless moans which encourage Mike to press onto your g-spot more with the crook of his fingers. Your pussy squelched around his digits as more juices leaked out of your slit. Your walls pulsate around him, making him aware that you are so close to the pleasure you have denied yourself for so long.
He pulled his fingers out right when you were about to fall off the edge. You let out a whine as an unsatisfactory wave of pleasure washed over you, the hint of the orgasm fading quickly despite the efforts. You furrow your eyebrows, about to question him. Why? Why? Why?
Why deny you, now? So near the edge and suddenly so far away. He chuckled when he saw the frustrated look on your face. He murmurs a half-ass apology. "You're gonna cum on my cock, darling," he whispered.
You feel nervousness creeping into your mind. "Are you sure I am ready?" You asked, softly. He gives you a reassuring nod, his fingers pinching your clit and making you moan.
"More than so," he said near your ear, his teeth nibbling your ear lobe. "Are you ready?" He asked, waiting for verbal confirmation or rejection. He didn't mind either way, he just wanted you to enjoy it.
"Want it," you whispered, trying to calm your nerves, you took a deep breath and gave him verbal consent. "Yes, I am ready. I want you, Mike."
His forehead was pressed against yours, his hand in yours, fingers interlocked. He squeezed it before he pressed himself to your slit.
You gasp when his cockhead breaches your entrance, inch by inch. He goes slow, pausing whenever you whimper a bit too loud, more out of the pain of the stretch rather than the pleasure.
"You're doing so good," he praised, his pupils dilated with lust but filled with love as well. "Such a tight pussy just for me. You're so fucking warm too," he groans when his tip slips in completely. You moan from the successful breach before another whimper escapes you as more of his girth slides into your walls.
When he was finally sheathed, his cock was in the deepest part of you. He lets you adjust, ignoring his twitching dick for comfort. All the while he was murmuring praises near your ear, 'Your pussy is sucking me in.' 'God, you're so good at this.' 'Perfect, you're perfect.'
Each word he utters makes you bask in pleasure, your mind getting foggy, your cunt getting slick and your juices coating his dick better than any lube could.
"Please, move," you whine when he calls you his sweet girl. He squeezed your hands, which he now kept above your head. "You sure?" He whispered to your ear, his stubble brushing on your cheek. "Yes, Mike!" You whine, impatience sweeping into your tone. He tsk, making a note that you could be a brat and he would have to fix that.
But that was for later, it was time for him to fuck this perfect pussy. He sets up a luscious pace, letting you feel the drag of his cock. He groans near your ear, his grip on your hands getting tighter. It only drives you even more insane. The slow but deep thrusts, his groan, and whispers about how much of a good girl you are. 'You're taking his cock so well.' 'Such a perfect fit you are for his cock.'
Your mind was a fog, your eyes shut as you heard the sound of skin slapping in the room, you could feel yourself tethered to reality only because your fingers were still interlocked with his. His groans and praises are louder than your mewls and moans.
Both of you were getting closer to release. Each snap of his hips makes sure that his tip presses against your g-spot perfectly, your pussy milking his cock every time he hits that spot just right. "Close," you heard Mike whisper, his lips on your neck placing fervent wet kisses and love bites for you to view later.
"Me too," you hear yourself purr. If the tremor in your body, the heat gathering in your tummy and your eyes closing to rolling back are any indication. So close, you hope Mike won't be cruel enough to steal this away from you.
He wasn't, instead, he let go of one of your hands, you whine at the loss but soon it turns into a moan when his fingers pinch your clit, his thumb rubbing sharp circles around the swollen bud.
"Cum," he rasped, his fingers still playing with your clit with the clear precision of someone experienced. "My sweet girl, cum."
Was it a shout? Was it a moan that left your lips? You didn't know, all you knew was that your mind was crashing and you won't be able to think for the rest of the night as your walls begin to clamp down on his cock and you come undone by him.
He spilled himself inside of you the moment he felt your walls milking his cock begging for his cum. His seed paints your insides white, spilling outside of your folds when he pulls out.
It takes him a moment to collect himself before he kisses your forehead and whispers, "You were so good, my darling. Want me to draw a bath?"
You didn't trust yourself to speak so you nod. The rest of the night went by with a nice bath and cuddles and the promise of being something more with Mike.
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