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talesofesther · 3 months

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first in my heart

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.

A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.

Word count: 4,7k

Masterlist

"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."

It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.

To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.

And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.

Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.

He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.

Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.

It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.

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The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.

The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.

You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.

With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.

"What are you up to, my sweet?"

The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.

The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.

You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."

You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.

Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"

The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."

Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."

He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.

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Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.

You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.

Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.

He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.

And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"

A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.

You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.

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It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.

The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.

When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.

You didn't.

You said you cared for him. You hugged him.

There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.

Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.

He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.

Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.

Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.

There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.

With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.

It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.

But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.

The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.

Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.

Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.

"Astarion?"

With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.

"Is everything okay?"

Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.

Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"

The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.

You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."

But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?

Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.

He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.

Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.

He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.

Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.

Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.

And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.

He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.

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You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.

You could only hope he would adore it just as much.

It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.

Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.

You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.

Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.

You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.

With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.

You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.

"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.

You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.

"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.

You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."

His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.

"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.

A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.

You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.

For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.

You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.

"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.

Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.

"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"

You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."

A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.

You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.

Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.

The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.

A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.

He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.

People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.

Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.

Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.

You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.

Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.

"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.

"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."

Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.

There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.

Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.

You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.

When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."

You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion imagine #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #astarion fanfic #my story #astarion ancunin

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theotherhappyplace · 9 months

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MY FIRST GRAPHIC NOVEL

HI EVERYONE! today my first EVER graphic novel I wrote and drew is out in stores! It's about mermaids that BITE!

you can buy it on Amazon!

or Barnes and Noble

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-sea-in-you-jessi-sheron/1133637152?ean=9781638991113

this has been my dream since I was a kid, you can also get it on walmart and target's sites! and if you have a book store within 6 hours of driving for maryland I'll be happy to do a signing there

#the sea in you #mermaid #mermaids #mermaid comics #mermaid graphic novel #jessi sheron #my art #my story

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bmbochangetales · 4 months

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See, we bought the breast form just for some sexual play, partly as a joke. I didn’t want her to really have S Cup boobs. She didn’t want that either. We were drunk and somehow the add came in the side bar. Before we knew it, we had bought them But when they arrived and she wore them for the first time, we fucked hard. So they became kind of a normal thing during sex.

Then one time, she began role playing a bimbo with them on. She was intoxicated by how many times she made me cum. It was just so hot hearing hear high pitched voice and how dumb she was. A cock addict. Playing with he fat tits. It was like her brains went in to her boobs. She pouted when she took them off to sleep.

One night she tried to surprise me and use them to pretend to be a stripper. She was trying to dom, but as she shook and squeezed the huge set, it was like it was turning her into a needy, dumb bimbo. When she gave me a tittyfuck blow job, let’s just say, I didn’t know she had the skills before.

Sex had been great but I started wanting more. On her day off, I asked her to wear them all day. She was a bit hesitant at first, but when I said it might help her relax on her day off, her eyes kind of lit up. She put them on and turned her normal pajamas in to popping out of low cut. As she admired herself in the mirror, I heard that bimbo giggle. I don’t know why, but I suggested she be a bimbo maid while I was gone, I thought I was joking.

When I came home, the house was spotless. There she was on the floor. Huge tits spilling out of an old French maid costume. Her favorite vibrator buzzing away in her pussy and one of her dildos in her mouth, scrubbing the floor. As we fucked in the kitchen, I thought about how real the fake rack felt and how much better they were than her old set of small boobs.

“Be a good girl and leave your tits on.” It was out of my mouth before I even knew it. It was what I wanted. Seeing her walk around the house, tits bouncing and shown off no matter what she wears.

She would try to act like her old more intelligent self, in fact it was hot to see her try to be smart. But the bimbo always won out. She couldn’t help but bounce her tits and talk in short sentences with a bimbo accent. She is so obedient and horny. The best part was her huge boobs.

They were her real tits now. She was a grade A bimbo with S cup balloon tits. I don’t know what happened, but this was the best purchase.

5 stars. Wish I could purchase again and again.

#my writing #my story #bimboization #breast expansion #bimboification

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livindeadgirlgrav · 7 months

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can you plz write headcannons or a story about female reader picking up nubbins sawyer while he’s hitchhiking, one thing leads to another, and she’s riding him to death (not literally teehee) in the back of her van🖤? maybe a bit of dom reader too? thank you so much🖤🖤

Yessss! Of course! Thank you so much for the request! I can totally write a headcanon also if you like! I love my little stories lol

Pairing: Nubbins Sawyer x Dom fem reader

Warning: NSFW!! Very nsfw, mention of drugs, violence, etc

Ps: Not 100% proof read it’s 3am lol it’s possible I overlooked something

You were a lost soul according to your parents, but in your mind all you wanted was to be free. A lot of things gave you that feeling of freedom- music, the open road, and a couple psychedelic drugs here and there. Having all three at your disposal you felt pretty free today. Driving your 72' Ford van you jammed all the way down the road. You hummed at the silk like feeling of the wind running through your fingers as you held your hand out the window. You smiled to yourself when you saw a hitchhiker on the side of the road. Of course you pulled over for them. First off it was way to hot to be walking I mean you were practically naked in your mothers eyes. And secondly he was pretty cute and you didn't have anything to do all day besides seeking that sweet freedom.

Once you came to a stop the strange looking man quickly got in the car. "Hey man? You alright? Its super hot out today. Suppose to be the hottest day of the year." You stated trying to make small talk. The man now in your passenger seat smiled. "Where you heading too hm?" You smiled at him as you started to drive away occasionally looking at him. "South" You nodded. "Same!" You giggled. "So how did you get out here?" You asked softly. "I was at the slaughter house, my brother work there. My grandfather too! My family always been in meat." He chuckled a little liking the attention he was getting from you. "Oh cool, my daddy was in it for a bit too but got a better job as I grew up. I never liked it, it made me sad seeing the poor babies." The man chuckled. "Its good food though, see they make head cheese. T-they take the head and boil it expect for the tongue and they scrap all the flesh away from the bone. They use everything, they don't throw nothin away!" Hearing the man ramble on you thought it was a bit gross but also kinda cute, he was so excited as if he hadn't had anyone to talk to in years. Like a little lost puppy. You giggled a bit, "Well I didn't know that." You smiled at him then looked back at the road. "Oh I love this song" You said turning up the radio, the wind blew into your window perfectly swaying your hair from side to side. Your attention was captured when you saw a flash coming from the man. Looking over you saw the man grinning as he looked at you then his camera. “Hey you took my picture!” You giggled. “You can drive to my house! It’s just down this road! A-and you can have dinner with me and my..” before he could finish you cut him off “Are you asking me out on a date?” You asked as you pulled over. The man looked at you confused. “Let me see.” You said as you scooted closer to him and took the photo out of his hand. “It’s not bad. You wanna take some more?” You smirked at the man.

Before you knew it the two of you were in the back of you 72' Ford van. You made the first move which wasn't unusual for you. At first you whispered sweet nothing into the nameless man's ear, then started nipping at his ear and the skin on his neck, earning soft moans from him. You noted at how edger the man was, noting how he trembled at your touch. Seeing how he wanted to touch you just not sure how. "You can touch me if you want, I don't bite..hard." You giggled then moaned softly as the man place his hand on your exposed thigh. "We can be slow if you like?" The man starred at you in awe and shook his head no. "Good boy." You quickly straddled his lap and began to kiss the man, kissing you back the man placed his hands on your waist. Grinding you kept kissing him till he pulled back a little to let a moan escape his lips. "It feels good doesn't it?" The man nodded as he laid back watching you grind against his lap. Smirking you kept going as you removed your shirt then your bra watching the mans face as he grinned ear to ear. You grabbed the mans chin softly and pulled him to you. Looking down at him you felt very dominate and free. The mans breath hence at the sudden touch, looking up at you he went to kiss you but you moved back slightly. "Tsk tsk so you wanna touch me?" You asked. "Y-yes." The man stuttered. "What do you say?" "Please?.." The man was very impatient as he was so needy, wanting a release. Grinning you placed the mans hands on your chest and he bucked his hips uncontrollably, making you chuckle. You grinned against the man making him shutter and moan. "You are so big." In a matter of seconds you both went after the same thing, his belt. You pushed his hands away and he grunted frustrated. Grinning you undid his belt and then his pants, going to undo yours he stopped you, pushing your hands away lightly. The man quickly unbuttoned your daisy dukes. Lifting yourself up the man pulled your shorts down. Before you even realized he was inside you and you rode him like a bull rider. Hearing his moans, grunts and whimpers. It was music to your ears and he was so unaware.

You both stayed in that metal tin till the sun went down, changing positions and occasionally fighting for dominance (when you won more than once) you moaned as the now naked man trusted into you and kissed on your neck. Grabbing his hair you moaned out, grinding as best you could against. The man moaned as while almost in perfect harmony with you. Before you knew it you both were finishing at the same time, it was something you never experienced before! A feeling washed over you that you swear was familiar but it definitely wasn’t.

Laying in the floor of the van you snuggled up with the man you come to learn to be Nubbins. Finding a old blanket under one of the seats you both snuggled underneath . Surrounded by polaroids of your naked body and of his you both fell asleep on the biggest high you could only imagine.

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Hey! I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so so so much from the request and thank you tons for reading!

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kawaiicloundgentleman2 · 9 months

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Him (pov)

My wife gave me that look. It was the same look 9 months ago from our hot section. When we got the news that she was carrying twins; We were happy. I supported her every step through this pregnancy. She looks sexy now as she did before. I gently rub her belly and whisper in her. "Come with me to the bedroom."

#pregnancy #pregnant kink #pregnant women #preggo kink #pregblr #big pregnant belly #pregnant with twins #my captions #my story

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loveyourlovelysoul · 3 months

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Went back to the physiotherapist today after like a month or so, she told me she had been wondering about me and how was I doing (I generally go there to train thrice a week but kinda stopped cause of the flu and Xmas). When I told her I kinda entered a phase in which I needed mostly to sleep and to think, and didn't feel like training (i was being honest about it) she said "You know it's okay to take breaks and not always be 100%... there's nothing wrong with that". I knew that myself but ofc hearing it from the outside, from someone who cares about my well-being and has been of huge help (not just physical) for so long now, felt very good.

So I want to tell you the same words today, even just as a reminder: "it's okay to take breaks and not always be 100%... there's nothing wrong with that". Take your breaks when you need, follow your own body's advice (it very often acts after your tired mind).

#my story #words #healing #important #positivity #self healing #positive thinking #self care #healingjourney

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marblecakemix · 5 months

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I'm still so bitter about how the trans community never told me the negative effects of T and binding. I'm so lucky that I didn't do any of those things, bc now I know they would bring me extensive pain, destroy my whole menstrual cycle, skeleton structure, and overall well-being forever.

I learned about it from people the trans cult despises the most, women that they are calling terfs. They saved my life, my dear friend saved my life because she found Radblr and showed me that my feelings are valid outside of the gender spectrum and that it's okay to be just a woman. I know if not for her and this wonderful community I would have gone through T and probably let my boobs be cut off even though I did like how I looked before entering the trans cult.

I'm so bitter about being lied to by omission, by a community that was supposed to protect me from this big bad world.

And the funny thing is, I feel so much better now, I don't have to take my anti-depression meds, because I'm genuinely happy and at one with, my body now. The big bad everyone around me was screaming about saved my life and I know I'm not the only one.

There are many like me out there and many women who weren't so lucky and now are detransitioning (51k just on Reddit).

My rage has no end and I'll fight for every single one of those women. They deserve to feel as happy and at home as I do now. I know I can't do much, but maybe I'll stir something in those lost women by telling my story. I really hope I do.

#radical feminism #gender critical #radical feminist safe #radical feminists do interact #my own experience #talk tag #feminism #trans cult #this is real story #my story #my stuff

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heresmyhyperfixations · 2 months

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Let me be so for real for a minute. I grew up in a homophobic and transphobic household. Now, there’s a lot I could speak on in relation to this time of my life and how even now it’s affects me. But instead I want to share something pertaining to the fandom I have found myself in recently.

Good Omens was on my list of shows to watch since it came out all those years ago. Honestly, I was a Supernatural fan, I yearned for nothing more then a good on screen queer angle lol. Of course I couldn’t not at home. I couldn’t risk it. It was funny, some family members were Michael Sheen fans. That meant watching a lot of things he was in and every time I would be thinking about Good Omens and how much I wanted to be able to see it. But after a while I did kind of forget that it exists. Then I stumbled back onto this lovely little chaotic app. Following a lot of writing based accounts and tags it didn’t take long to come across Neil Gaiman’s account, even though he doesn’t use social media. Seeing him answer asks about GO made me go “Oh! Finally!” And start streaming it immediately.

Of course I fell in love. Growing up being shamed by my family for simply being a little “strange”, plot twist I am just neurodivergent, hurt a little less watching Aziraphale constantly being ridiculed by the other angles for his human tastes. Cause if he is still a good character/person/angel, even if a little “weird”, that means I can be good too. Watching Crowley get cast away for asking questions was relatable as well. But guess what? If he can go off and make a life for himself with his love and independence then so can I. Does this mean Aziraphale and Crowley don’t have a ton of healing and growth still to do? Absolutely not. But I am sure they will get through it, and so will I.

Now here’s where it gets a little tricky, figuring out how to express how much the fandom means to me. Hearing other stories, headcannons, and character analysis makes me feel less alone for starters. But even on a less dramatic note, it just so nice to be able to revel in our mural love for this show! After all these years of wanting to watch I finally get to join in on the fun! And I am so so so grateful for that. I love it here.

P.s. as someone still coming to terms with my gender identity, seeing David be so vocal about his support of trans rights and wearing his little non-binary pride pin has made me feel so much better.

#aziraphale #crowley #az fell and co #aziracrow #good omens #michael sheen #david tennant #personal #my story #love this fandom #sage rambles

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talesofesther · 7 months

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what once was mine | ch 1

Loki x Reader

Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: A long overdue mini-series for one of my favorite characters of all time. I had this idea when season one of Loki first came out, but never got to writing it, and now with season two coming, I decided to finally do it. There are two important things that need to be said before we head into it though; firstly and most importantly, I will not be following the show's plot at all, this story will only be focusing on the relationship between Loki and the reader, after all that's what it is about and I don't want it to be unnecessarily huge; secondly, this story will be mostly told in moments, which means that not every single scene happening between the characters will be written down in length. Lastly, I do hope you can all enjoy it. <3

Masterlist

Things felt worthless. Everything suddenly seemed unimportant. His whole life, everything he knew, felt small and frail. Because here, infinity stones were mere paperweights.

Loki scoffed as he pushed himself up from the floor, one hand coming up to tug at the collar still wrapped around his neck. This place made him feel as if his brain was melting, it was all too much, too sudden—sacred timeline, variants. A sense of utter helplessness started to weigh heavily in the pit of his stomach.

Yet he couldn't hold himself back from sitting at the single table in the middle of the dim-lit room. The checkered image of the Avengers right in front of him seemed to be taunting him.

This was still the same day, right?

Or maybe not, Loki wasn't certain anymore; it sure didn't feel like the same day.

For a split second, as he looked down at the red, round device resting on top of the table, he thought about how everything here looked so old-fashioned. It was almost ironic, for a place out of time.

Loki couldn't help himself. His curiosity got the best of him eventually. But if anyone had their whole life just a click away, they'd probably do the same.

So he watched, through glimpses passing on a screen, a life that was supposed to be his. He watched his mother die, and then his father; he watched as Thor called him a brother with a smile on his face again, and as they made earth a new home for Asgard. Loki's eyes were already a pool of tears as soon as his mother's lifeless body had appeared in front of him, they cascaded down his cheeks freely, leaving behind a damp path of a lifetime worth of mourning, now seen in less than a minute. The loss somehow felt greater, because now he wouldn't even have those moments to begin with.

But suddenly, amidst the moments of suffering and mistakes, an unfamiliar face appeared. She had a smile on her face most of the time, and even through the static of the image in front of him, Loki could clearly see the glint in her pupils, the crinkle beside her eyes. She was quite captivating, maybe that's why it took him a second to realize she was smiling at him.

A frown etched itself in Loki's eyebrows, he leaned forward on his chair as he pressed play again. Curiosity and... apprehension twirled wildly inside his stomach.

The moments with her were endless. Walks on the beach, shared ice creams, quiet nights watching a movie, dancing together in a dark kitchen, the golden rays of a sunset shining against her hair in a memory tucked away like a treasure; and even a moment of her talking with Tony Stark and the others, while her hand held tightly onto Loki's, the other Loki, that is. All of them looked futile, a simple existence Loki would never have considered fit for him; so why did these moments feel important?

Inside TVA's lonely room, Loki held his breath until his lungs ached. His heart was threatening to jump out of his chest and his eyes were stinging for a whole new reason. He could feel the shaking of his own hands. That look in her eyes, it was one of love, anyone who saw would know it. But the cause of the sudden lump in Loki's throat was the fact that this look was always directed at him. That love in her eyes, that smile on her lips; was for him.

Several minutes went by with him silently looking at the paused image of her on the checkered screen. A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks, and he wasn't sure why yet. If it was for the shock of learning that someone could love him this much; or because of the envy, the longing for something that wasn't even his, not really, he never got there after all.

There was a hole in his chest, a missing piece of something he never had. Loki didn't even know her name, yet a part of him was screaming it anyway.

He eventually moved on, and almost threw up when he watched Thanos take his life from him. Loki watched his brother cry over his lifeless body, yet he wasn't seeing her.

And despite the boatload of information thrown at him, the questions clouding his mind were only; who is she? Where is she?

Lost. Loki felt more lost than he probably ever did in his entire life. He had just watched what was supposed to be the rest of his life, yet... it wouldn't be. So what now?

He sat down on the small stairs of the room, burying his head in his hands.

And then there was this girl; smiling and laughing and holding his hand as if he had been the best thing to ever happen to her. This feeling, warm and heavy, squeezing Loki's heart, was a foreign one—he couldn't quite place why that look of pure adoration in her eyes was directed at him.

He needed to know who she was. He needed to find her and ask her why. He needed to know what she was, or- would be to him.

The sudden sound of the door opening startled Loki, he watched as Mobius walked into the room, his steps overly cautious. "Loki? Nowhere left to run."

Gulping back a sob clawing its way through his throat, Loki took a deep breath. He slowly glanced up, voice calm and defeated as he asked a question he already knew the answer to; "I can't go back, can I?"

Mobius simply looked at him, his eyes holding some kind of sympathy as he spared Loki from hearing the truth out loud.

Loki pursed his lips, his gaze slowly trailed back to the screen on his left that again adorned a paused image of the mysterious girl. Her lips were turned up just slightly, dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and she held a slowly melting ice cream in one of her hands. "Who is she?" he asked quietly.

Placing his weapon on the table, Mobius let out a long sigh, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask about her."

The words made Loki snap his head towards him, a frown coming to his eyebrows immediately.

"She..." Mobius hesitated, "she is someone almost as annoying as you."

"That doesn't answer my question." Loki nearly sounded offended. He got up then, taking slow steps towards Mobius. "She seemed... important, yet I don't know who she is."

"I'm afraid you haven't met her yet."

"Then tell me who she is."

Mobius grimaced; "I don't think it's my place to say it."

"That's absurd," Loki scoffed, "it's my life we're talking about here."

"How about we help each other then, hm?" Mobius offered, and when Loki only frowned at him, he continued; "a fugitive Variant has been killing our Minutemen."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "And you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him?"

A small smirk came to Mobius' lips; "That's right. You help us stop him. I get you an opportunity to meet her and you can ask her whatever questions you want to know."

A meeting with someone didn't feel like much for his end of the bargain, but that same voice inside Loki was still screaming a name he didn't know how to spell. He had to know.

"Deal."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 2 here

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki #marvel #loki series #loki x you #marvel x reader #loki x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #what once was mine #loki fanfic #my story #loki laufeyson x reader

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i984 · 1 year

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A Scarlet Touch | Part 2

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, brief tongue shoving, study dates, Wednesday holds grudges, poor attempt at displaying all 5 love languages, reader turns out to be a sucker for physical touch, but gets so embarrassed in front of other people, reader doesn't understand triangles, Wednesday never loses; she has a plan B: Enid.

|Summary|: Wednesday investigates what makes you tick just so she can give you a pay back.

|Word count|: almost 1k words

|A/n|: This is a part 2 to "Sweet Words Make a Lovely Shade" (please go to my masterlist in the description), see replies for more. Enjoy!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

At last.

Wednesday had found your weakness.

Ever since you 'harassed' Wednesday with compliments the other day, the raven-haired girl has declared war between the two of you; and she's determined to come out as a winner.

Quality time. Acts of services. Gifts. Words of affirmation. Wednesday has tried it all—to the best she can—and none seem to have affected you at all.

Of course, at first, you were caught a little off guard.

When Wednesday finally brought up your request for her to tutor you for the upcoming math exam, you had been ecstatic—though admittedly a little suspicious. You had practically begged her to do so for ages, but after your most recent revelation the other day, she had said no to any offer to spend time together, just the two of you.

But now? She's the one who asks if you still want to do it, and when you have said yes, she wastes no time, practically dragging you to your dorm room.

You half-expected Wednesday to pull you in for a make-out session as soon as she slammed the door after you. But nope. She went straight to the balcony to grab the extra chair you put out there and took a seat next to your desk.

Huh. Guess you really are studying.

"-so the angle of the special right side of the triangle is 183?"

Wednesday scoffed irritatedly. "No. Absolutely not. The total angle of a triangle is 180. How would one single angle of a triangle exceed the total number? Do it again."

To your brain, what Wednesday has said only sounds like an incoherent string of jumbled sentences. You groaned out loud and banged your head against the desk.

"I don't want to do this anymore," you dragged out the last word, "lets just do something else that's more fun and less..." Your brows furrowed as you tried to find the right word, "...numbery."

"Numbers are fun. Formulas and logic ties in together pleasantly and produce a definite answer. A right answer."

Unlike you. There's no 'right' answer for you.

You huffed in frustration. "Of course, you'd think that, Wens."

The damned nickname.

"You're smart and beautiful, and you use words that I don't understand—like just now—so of course you'll always come up with a right answer." You toy with the pages of the trigonometry workbook Wednesday had 'gifted' you earlier, missing the dark crimson color painting your girlfriend's cheeks.

"I can never do that," you sigh as your head looks up at the ceiling, "I can't find the right answer."

Wednesday can find answers in even literature and paintings—the fruits of human thoughts that are up for various different interpretations with no set answers. But even works like Mona Lisa can't dream of rivaling the challenge you presented her.

A challenge to break you.

Wednesday tapped at your desk, demanding your attention. You disobeyed, eyes too busy trailing the movements of the spider hanging from your dorm room ceiling.

You're driving her crazy.

"...look at me," Wednesday calls out your name with an icy tone, and you snap your gaze at her, body tense. "Now, listen. You're hopeless-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. No need to rub it in, geez."

"You're hopeless," Wednesday repeats her words, but this time her gaze stays on yours, unrelenting. You shut up.

"and I don't think I can help. Nobody can." Her voice carries an unnerving certainty as she continues, "Except yourself."

"Wait, did you try to encourage me just now?" Your voice is dripping with mischief, eyebrows raised teasingly.

If not for the internal war she desperately needs to win against you, Wednesday would've stuck the pen she's holding and jammed it in your eyes.

Priorities, Wednesday reminded herself. Maddening priorities.

"Think of it however you want," Wednesday unwillingly chokes out, "but I will not let you come out of this room. Not until we're done."

"That's cute, love. It really is." You scribble on the paper absentmindedly, "but even with your sweet, sweet words of encouragement, I doubt I can claw myself out of the hole I've dug myself into, unless..."

Wednesday sees your gaze slowly moving to hold her own; there's a glint of perversity in your eyes, and she knows you're about to say something that would make her wretched black heart pumps uncontrollably and burst.

"...you kiss me with those tempting burgundy lips of yours."

No, no, no. Not this again.

"And not just a quick peck, I mean a kiss. A full-blown make-out session where our breaths would mingle, and I could feel your nose bumping against my cheek. That kind of kiss."

You chuckled lightly, brows raising in challenge. And that's all Wednesday needs before she makes up her mind.

It has finally come to this. The dreaded physical touch. The one Wednesday had oh-so-desperately tried to avoid, hoping that it wouldn't be the one to work on you.

But here she is, about to make the devil's pack with her disgustingly cunning lover.

Wednesday's about to lose, unless—

—a knock. Followed by a "Wednesday! I've got your note from Thing. Can I come in?" from outside the door.

Your smug face drops and the colors drain, contrasting Wednesday's eery victorious leer, and she grabs your arm and pulls you flush into her embrace.

"You know what? Your wish is granted, mio caro." The term of endearment sounds vicious in her low voice, and you shudder; eyes tearing apart from Wednesday's sharp gaze.

"Yes, come in, Enid." Wednesday shouts loud enough for her roommate to hear before gripping your jaw—your scarlet face now so close to Wednesday's you can feel her warm breath tickles your face as she whispers;

"I win."

Wednesday shoves her tongue in, and the door blasts open.

Shit.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday series #fluff #fanfic #my story

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