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hoshifighting · 2 months

Note

hey I need cheol to fuck and breed me stupid for doing well on my exams :(

Hit the Books, Hit the Sheets

Synopsis: Where after weeks with your face buried inside of books on the brink of exhaustion, however, when the day of the exam arrives, your hard work pays off as you receive notice of an outstanding grade—an A+. Overwhelmed with pride and joy, Seungcheol decides to reward you for your dedication.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of body fluids, breeding, oral (f. receiving), praising, dirty talk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, g'spot stimulation and lots and lots of praising (again).

Seungcheol walked into the apartment, tired from a long day's work. As he entered the living room, he noticed the familiar sight of you buried in your books, your face obscured by the pages. Concern tugged at his heartstrings as he observed the weariness etched on your features, the faint dark circles under your eyes telling a silent tale of your relentless study sessions.

"Baby," he called softly, approaching you with cautious steps. "You should take some rest. You've been at it all day."

You glanced up briefly, offering him a tired smile before returning your attention to the book in front of you. "I will, Seungcheol. Just a little more to go through."

Seungcheol sighed, taking a seat beside you on the bed. "You've been saying that for days now. I'm worried about you, sweetheart. You need to take care of yourself too."

Your brows furrowed slightly in concentration as you flipped another page, your mind fully consumed by the wealth of knowledge before you. "I know, Seungcheol. But I have exams coming up, and I need to be prepared."

He reached out, gently placing a hand on yours to stop your relentless flipping of pages. "I understand that, but pushing yourself too hard isn't healthy. You need to find a balance."

You met his concerned gaze, feeling a pang of guilt tug at your heart. "I'll rest after I finish this chapter, I promise."

Seungcheol sighed once more, realizing that his words were falling on deaf ears, your mind too deeply immersed in your studies to truly register his concerns. With a heavy heart, he leaned back against the pillows, silently watching as you continued to pour over your books, the weight of exhaustion evident in every line of your posture. He knew he couldn't force you to stop, but he hoped that eventually, you would realize the importance of taking care of yourself, even amidst the chaos of exams and deadlines.

s the days went by and Seungcheol noticed you becoming increasingly consumed by your studies, he took it upon himself to ensure you were taking care of your physical health as well. Despite your insistence on studying continuously, he made it a point to interrupt your sessions with nutritious snacks and meals.

He would gently tap you on the shoulder, interrupting your concentration momentarily as he placed a plate of fresh fruit or a homemade sandwich beside your books. "I brought you some snacks, sweetheart," he would say softly, a hint of concern in his voice.

You would offer him a grateful smile, pausing your reading momentarily to indulge in the nourishment he provided. Though your mind was still preoccupied with your studies, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and appreciation for his thoughtfulness.

At dinner time, Seungcheol would coax you away from your desk, gently reminding you of the importance of taking a break and nourishing your body. He would prepare wholesome meals, ensuring that you ate enough to sustain your energy levels through the long hours of studying ahead.

As Seungcheol pulled up to the college campus, he turned to you with a reassuring smile. "You've got this, babe," he said, his voice filled with encouragement. "Just remember everything you've studied, and trust in yourself. I believe in you."

You nodded, feeling a surge of determination as you gripped his hand tightly. "Thank you, Seungcheol," you replied, your voice filled with gratitude. "I'll do my best."

With one last reassuring squeeze of your hand, Seungcheol watched as you stepped out of the car and made your way towards the college building. As you disappeared from view, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for the strength and resilience you displayed, even in the face of daunting challenges.

Once you were inside the campus, your phone began to buzz incessantly with messages from Seungcheol, each one filled with words of encouragement and love.

"Hey babe, you've got this! I believe in you!"

"Just a reminder that you're amazing and capable of anything, including acing this exam. I'm cheering for you all the way!"

"You're gonna ace that exam, my love! Make me proud!"

With each message that popped up on your screen, you felt a surge of confidence and determination. Seungcheol's unwavering support served as a constant source of motivation, driving you to give it your all during the exam.

You settle into your seat, the words of Seungcheol echoing in your mind like a comforting melody. With a determined click of your pen, you begin to write, each stroke of ink on paper fueled by his unwavering belief in you. As you tackle the exam questions with a newfound sense of confidence, memories of Seungcheol flash before your eyes, reminding you that you are capable of overcoming any challenge that comes your way.

Hours pass in a blur of concentration and determination, until finally, you complete the exam and hand it to your professor. It's almost ironic how quickly he corrects your paper, mere minutes compared to the weeks of intense study that preceded this moment. But as you sit in your seat once again, waiting for the final grade, you can't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you gave it your all, guided by the unwavering support of Seungcheol.

Heart pounding in your chest, you rise from your seat as your teacher calls your name to receive your exam. With trembling hands, you accept the paper, barely able to contain the anticipation bubbling within you. As your eyes scan the page, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the A+ adorned with a red circle, a silent testament to your hard work and dedication.

"Thank you," you manage to whisper to your teacher, a grateful smile gracing your lips as you swiftly exit the classroom. Once outside, you find a secluded spot and press your knuckles against your mouth to stifle a scream of joy, tears of relief and happiness pricking at the corners of your eyes.

With trembling fingers, you dial Seungcheol's number, the night's breeze swirling around you as you wait anxiously for him to pick up. Finally, his voice fills your ears, sweet and familiar, as he greets you with a warmth that washes over you like a comforting embrace.

"Hey, how did it go?" he asks eagerly, his excitement palpable even through the phone.

You take a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush as you share the news. "I got an A+, Seungcheol! I did it!"

On the other end of the line, you can practically hear Seungcheol's jubilant celebration, his joyous jumps echoing through the receiver. "That's amazing, sweetheart! I knew you could do it!"

He pauses for a moment before continuing, his voice filled with determination. "Don't move, okay? I'm coming to pick you up right now. We're going to celebrate at your favorite restaurant."

In a matter of minutes, Seungcheol's car pulls up in front of the college, and you can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you spot him stepping out of the driver's seat. His face lights up with a beaming smile as he rushes towards you, his arms outstretched for a big hug.

You meet him halfway, throwing yourself into his embrace as he lifts you off the ground in a tight squeeze. The warmth of his hug envelops you, filling you with a sense of comfort and joy as you revel in the moment.

"Congratulations, my love," he murmurs into your ear, his voice filled with pride and admiration. "I'm so proud of you."

As he sets you back down, he takes your hand and leads you towards the car, opening the door for you with a flourish. "Let's go celebrate," he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "But first, you need to eat well. You've earned it."

With a grateful smile, you climb into the car beside him.

After a celebratory dinner at your favorite restaurant with Seungcheol, you return home feeling content and relaxed. The warmth of the hot water soothes your tired muscles as you sink into the bath, letting the steam envelop you in a cocoon of relaxation. With each passing minute, the stress of the day melts away, leaving you feeling lighter and more at ease.

Once you've finished your bath, you towel off and before climbing into bed beside Seungcheo, and you can't help but smile as you watch him play on his phone. But when he senses your presence, he quickly tosses the device aside and turns his attention to you, his lips finding their way to your face in a trail of soft kisses.

You giggle at his affectionate display, enjoying the gentle caress of his lips against your skin as he peppers kisses down your face, tracing a path along your jawline and down to your neck. His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but laugh at the ticklish sensation.

But as his kisses linger on your neck, you feel a sudden rush of sensitivity, a soft moan escaping your lips involuntarily. Seungcheol's eyes light up at the sound, a mischievous glint dancing in his gaze.

He chuckles softly, his lips trailing lower along your neck, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses in their wake. "Since you've been so amazing today," he murmurs against your skin, "I think it's only fair that I give you a reward."

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his touch ignite a fire within you, anticipation building with each passing second. "And what might that be?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

As he reaches your belly, he gently pushes up your jersey, granting him full access to your clothed pussy. Your body trembles with anticipation as his gaze locks with yours, his eyes filled with an intense hunger that sends a shiver of excitement coursing through you.

Without hesitation, Seungcheol lowers himself even further, his lips brushing against the fabric covering your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel the warmth of his breath against your most sensitive area.

With a teasing grin, Seungcheol leans in closer, his tongue flicking out to trace a slow stripe along your clothed clit. You flinch, moving your hips impatiently to feel his tongue.

As Seungcheol removes your panties and spreads your legs wide open, anticipation pulses through your veins, your body thrumming with desire. When his wet and hot tongue makes contact with your clit, you throw your head back, a moan escaping your lips.

"Mmm…" you moan, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the sensitivity of your clit heightened after days of intense studying, your body craving the release that only Seungcheol can provide.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him on as his tongue flicks your clit with increasing speed. The pleasure builds and builds, each stroke of his tongue driving you closer to the edge.

"Ah! Oh god, Seungcheol," you cry out, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, your body teetering on the brink of release.

As you gasp for breath, you plead with him, your voice dripping with desperation. "I'm gonna cum, Seungcheol. Please, please!"

With a primal growl, Seungcheol redoubles his efforts, sucking your pussy with an intensity that leaves you trembling, you could listen to the sound he made while he slurped your cunt. The sensation is overwhelming, pushing you past the point of no return as you finally cum in his tongue.

"Oh, Seungcheol," you pant, your thighs tightening around his head as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. "You're... you're amazing. So good... so fucking good."

As Seungcheol continues to lavish attention on your sensitive pussy, your thighs instinctively tighten around his head, riding the waves of your orgasm with abandon. Each flick of his tongue sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, intensifying the sensations to dizzying heights.

But as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear, your body convulses with oversensitivity, the overwhelming sensation bordering on pain. With a shaky breath, you finally manage to choke out a plea.

"Seungcheol, please... stop," you whimper, your voice laced with need and desperation.

Seungcheol pulls away reluctantly, his hands moving to grasp your boobs as he gazes down at you with a hungry glint in his eyes. You meet his gaze, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggle to regain your composure.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. "I could eat you out forever."

A blush creeps onto your cheeks at his words, but a surge of arousal floods through you at the praise. With a coy smile, you reach out to trace a finger along his jawline, the intimacy of the moment igniting a fire within you.

"You're amazing" you whisper, your voice husky with desire.

His eyes darken with desire at your words, and he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "I'll always make you feel good, baby" he murmurs against your lips. "You're mine, and I'll take care of you forever."

As your lips meld in a heated, passionate kiss, you feel Seungcheol's tongue eagerly seeking entrance, his lips sucking and teasing yours. With a soft whimper, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as desire courses through your veins.

Seungcheol breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he gazes down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. "What do you want, babygirl?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

You whimper softly, your body pulsing with need as you meet his gaze with a hunger of your own. "I need you," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you to fuck me, Seungcheol. I need you to make me yours." At this point, you were completely crazy for him, after all these days without his touch that you craved so much.

A hungry grin spreads across Seungcheol's lips as he leans in closer, his hands moving to grip your hips possessively. "Oh, baby," he growls, his voice dripping with desire. "I'm going to please you all night long. You're mine, and I'm going to make you feel so fucking good."

With a needy moan, you arch your back, pressing your body closer to his as you feel the heat of his arousal pressing against you. "Yes!" you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. "Please, Seungcheol."

Seungcheol's sweatpants fall to the floor, revealing his throbbing erection, wet and glistening with anticipation. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, your body trembling with need as you ache for him to fill you completely.

With a low groan, Seungcheol positions himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance, the anticipation sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to enter you, his massive cock stretching you to your limits as you gasp at the sensation.

As he inches deeper inside you, Seungcheol's voice fills the air, his words dripping with pride and admiration. "I'm so proud of you, baby," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "You've worked so hard, and you deserve to be rewarded."

His words send a surge of warmth flooding through you, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this man who stands before you, ready to give you everything you desire. With each thrust, he praises your efforts, his words driving you wild with desire.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, baby," he growls, his voice filled with primal need. "I'm going to make you feel every inch of me, the way you deserve it."

With each thrust, Seungcheol's words of love and admiration fill the room, mingling with the sounds of your moans and the wet slaps of your bodies coming together.

"I love you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, as he drives himself deeper into you.

"You worked so hard," he praises, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing moment, as if he's trying to convey his love and appreciation through every thrust.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice a soft caress against your skin, as he loses himself in the pleasure of being with you.

With every word, every declaration of love, Seungcheol's thrusts become more intense, more desperate, as if he's trying to pour all of his love and desire into you with each movement of his body.

"I love you!" he repeats, his voice a mantra of devotion as he continues to move inside you

As your cheeks flush with embarrassment, Seungcheol's gaze softens, his fingers gently caressing your hair with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. His cock continues to pound into your g-spot with precision, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body, leaving you unable to do anything but moan and whimper in ecstasy.

"You like that, baby?" he coos, his voice low and husky with desire. "You like the way my cock feels inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again?"

You can only nod in response, your words lost in a sea of pleasure as Seungcheol's relentless thrusts drive you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

"That's it," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he continues to drive into you with unbridled passion. "Just let go, baby. Let me take care of you. I'll make you feel so good, I promise."

With each word, each caress, Seungcheol's cock pounds into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, your body writhing beneath him as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure he provides.

"Oh, fuck," Seungcheol groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he feels your pussy spasming around him, the clenching sensation making him stutter in his movements. "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet around my cock."

As you roll your eyes back in ecstasy, lost in the pleasure of his thrusts, Seungcheol's words become more desperate, more urgent.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he gasps, his hips thrusting faster and harder, unable to resist the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. "I can't hold back anymore, baby. I'm gonna cum so hard for you."

"Please, Seungcheol," you whimper, your voice dripping with desperation as you circle your clit, trying to milk him for all he's worth. "Cum for me, baby. I need to feel you come inside me."

Seungcheol's eyes squeeze shut tight, a curse slipping past his lips as he feels your pussy clenching around him harder, the sensation driving him to the brink of ecstasy.

"Cumming," he gasps, his voice a ragged whisper as he empties himself inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his release.

As Seungcheol's hot cum fills your cunt, you can't help but moan in ecstasy at the sensation of his cock pushing the cum deeper and deeper inside you. The overwhelming pleasure sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you, driving you to the brink of another orgasm.

"Fuck," you mumble, already overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. "Keep fucking your cum inside me, Seungcheol. I need it. I need all of you."

Seungcheol's moan is almost pained as he buries his face in your neck, his body trembling with desire at your words. "God, yes," he groans, his voice thick with need.

Seungcheol watches with satisfaction as he withdraws his cock from your pussy, his gaze lingering on the sight of his cum dripping from your wet and messy cunt. A sense of pride washes over him as he takes in the fucked-out expression on your face, knowing that he's given you the release you so desperately needed after days of exhaustion.

Your relaxed demeanor is like a reward to him, a testament to his ability to bring you pleasure and satisfaction even in the midst of your busiest and most stressful times. He can't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that he's been able to fuck every last bit of tension out of you, leaving you looking and feeling more relaxed than you have in days.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity and adoration.

Seungcheol's eyes soften at your words, a tender smile spreading across his face as he reaches out to cup your cheek. "I love you too," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

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digitalgirlguide · 4 months

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BECOMING THE WOMAN YOU WANT

Imagine the woman you want to become. Envision her embracing a lifestyle woven with healthy habits that radiate positivity and well-being. Picture her waking up early, greeting the day with gratitude, and setting intentions that shape her mindset for success.

In her daily routine, she prioritizes self-care—nourishing her body with wholesome meals, staying hydrated, and indulging in regular exercise that she genuinely enjoys. Whether it's a morning yoga session, an evening run, or a dance class, physical activity is not a chore but a celebration of what her body can achieve.

This woman values the power of mindfulness. Picture her taking moments throughout the day to breathe deeply, practice meditation, or simply appreciate the present. It's in these mindful pauses that she finds clarity, resilience, and a profound connection with herself.

As she moves through her day, healthy habits extend into her work life. This woman is organized and efficient, using time management techniques to tackle tasks without feeling overwhelmed. Regular breaks and moments of reflection help her maintain focus and creativity.

Evenings are a sanctuary for winding down. She cherishes a good night's sleep, prioritizing rest as a cornerstone of her well-being. Unplugging from screens, engaging in calming activities, and maintaining a consistent sleep schedule contribute to the rejuvenation her body and mind need.

Remember, becoming her doesn't happen overnight. It's a gradual process, a collection of intentional choices and persistent efforts. Start incorporating these healthy habits, step by step, and watch as you evolve into the empowered, balanced woman you aspire to be. 🌿💪🌺🌟

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tb3ih · 3 months

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midnight snack ⨳ nanami kento

[ HUSBAND!kento takes care of both his girls ] fluff + smut!

the clock has just changed to read 3:29 am when nanami kento hears the slight creaking of his bedroom door swing open oh-so-carefully. the light padding of tiny feet come gently before they stop just at his bedside, tiny hands feeling for the comforter which he had pulled over his body.

"otōsan?" her voice is just above a whisper as her hand finds nanami's face, to which the man shifts just a little to look his little girl. eyes the same hue as yours, her long, blonde hair is a little mussed from sleep but she looks unharmed.

nanami sighs quietly, arm moving the covers slightly to allow her to crawl in, but she simply shakes her head, little hands moving to grab his hand and tug him a little as if to beckon him from the bed. "tummy hurts," she pouts.

careful not to wake your sleeping figure from the other side of the bed, he stands from the bed slowly. arms outstretched for his daughter, nanami catches her in his arms and hoists her onto his hip before exiting the bedroom soundlessly.

"alright, princess," nanami sighs, tired eyes adjusting to the light warm light of the kitchen before he sets her down on the counter. "are you hungry?"

the little girl nods her head, eyes watching as he moves to the pantry to make her something quick. nanami returns with a household favorite, biscoff cookies, and a jar of nutella. "choccy!"

nanami brings a finger to his lips, smiling a little at her enthusiasm before telling her she has to keep quiet so as not to wake anyone up. "this has to be a secret between you and daddy," he explains in a low voice, "no one can know i let you have these."

his daughter nods with a grin, pinkie finger coming to link with his just as another voice joins the room.

"let her have what?" nanami's eyes find yours at the entrance of the kitchen from the hallway, your arms crossed and your body leaning against the frame. "what's the secret, kento?"

your eyes are almost taunting when you walk over to stand by his side, the tips of your fingers grazing the bare skin of his back so lightly nanami has to assure himself he felt it. you bring your hand to tuck a stray lock behind your daughter's ear, her giggle ringing out softly as you poke her cheek. "bubba, didn't we talk about waking daddy up for snacks?"

your daughter pouts a little, muttering a small sorry as she lowers her head a little, looking up at you through blonde lashes. you sigh, "three more cookies and then off to bed with you."

"yay!" she cheers, pumping her little fist up in the air, earning a low chuckle from your husband beside you and an exasperated but amused sigh from you. "thank you!"

you watch with your husband as she finishes, hopping off the counter with a little 'oomph' coming back to hug you two good night, offering a little smooch of gratitude before nanami walks back with her hand in his to her bedroom.

you've just put the food away are wiping the counter down of crumbs when your husband re-enters the kitchen. "i'm sorry i woke you, sweetheart," he apologizes, arms wrapping around your waist as you dry the counter with a towel. "i tried not to."

letting go of the towel, you turn and offer him a smile, your hands holding his face as you bring your lips to his temple. you pause, lips lingering for just a moment. "don't apologize," you start, "you must be exhausted, kento."

he simply nods, sinking into you the moment you let a hand tangle in his hair and your other travel the strong lines of his back. "i just..." nanami breathes deeply and you feel as though the weight of his body lessens just slightly. "i hope you might be able to forgive me for my work schedule..."

you pull away to look at him, brows furrowed as your eyes search his. the lines under his eyes are deep and you can see how the overtime has pulled at the lines of his smile. "no, don't even say that," you say, "we'll always be here, no matter the time of the day. you just make sure you come home to us, okay?"

he presses a soft kiss to your lips, almost as if to seal the promise. "okay."

[n]sfw under the cut!

warning(s) — oral & fingering (f!receiving), use of 'sweetheart', absolute brainrot.

there is a moment of silence before he speaks up once more. "since we're out here for a midnight snack, you wouldn't mind being mine?"

"kento—!" you can't finish your sentence because his lips are on yours, strong hands holding your hips as he places you on the counter swiftly but carefully, the warmth of his torso pressing against you as he leans into you. "kento, please—"

"shh," your hands come to hold his face against yours, fingers pressed against the strong lines of his jaw when you feel his tongue swipe your bottom lip. "let's not wake our little girl, hm?"

a whimper escapes you when your bottom lips gets caught between his teeth, the small moment of pain leaving a burning in your veins. nanami runs his hands up your seated thighs, the tips of his fingers teasing at the waistband of your sleeping garments. he lingers there, a small smile forming at your lips when you look him in the eyes. "may i?"

you nod slowly, never letting your eyes leave his as his fingers hook into the waistband of your pajama bottoms. his pace is achingly slow, tugging the silk material down your legs and folding it before letting it sit on the counter beside you. nanami's fingertips are gentle as they trace up your thighs and stop to hold your hips in place, his lips moving from yours to kiss down your throat.

he is a murmuring mess of 'you are so beautiful' and curses as he trails down your chest. you allow him to to guide you into a laying position, your back relaxing against the countertop as he makes his way down your chest. your husband takes a moment to press a chaste kiss on your lower abdomen, his eyes relishing the way your stomach caves in with shaky breaths.

hooking a finger in the band of your underwear, nanami teases the skin just beneath the material, leaving you to squirm a little where you lay. "please," you whimper, your fingers finding his hair and instinctively tangling in the blonde locks.

"hm?" his voice is a low and gravelly against the soft of your skin, every consonant of his resonating through your nerves at the moment. "if you're asking something of me, sweetheart, i'll need you to use your words."

his thumbs rubs slowly, achingly against your clit through the cloth of your undergarment, waves of heat spilling from between your thighs and washing over the rest of your body. "p-please just... make me feel good."

"with pleasure," nanami replies lowly, not a second later tugging any remaining material away from you, discarding it on the folded pile near you. his large hands are warm when you feel them against the back of your thighs, and they're gentler still as they push until your thighs are comfortably pressed against your stomach.

his lips start at your clit, offering a ghost of a kiss before you feel his tongue swirl around it and leave your needy body shuddering. though you can't see his face, you know your husband well enough to know it's taking everything in him from devouring you right then and there.

warm breath against your sex leaving you craving more, you nearly gasp at the feeling of his warm muscle dipping between your folds. he is cautious and exploratory at first, making sure you're fully relaxed before delving in all the way, the flexing of his tongue against your walls has your spine arching unintentionally off the wood of the counter.

you hear him groan into you as you involuntarily clench, his tongue continuing to work skillfully to leave your core completely undone. it's the combination of the occasional grazing of his nose against your sensitive bud and the grip of his hands on the back of your thighs when you squirm under him. "i'll never get enough of you," nanami mumbles, one of his hands coming to press into your soaked entrance. "i'm only using my lips and already you're a mess."

rather than tantalizing, his voice is observant, softer around the edges to reassure you that he would be gentle. nanami lets his finger sink into you, eyes lighting in satisfaction as he watches the way you sigh when he starts to finger you. he adds a second finger, his mouth attentive to your clit in a way that has you mewling, fingers pulling harder at his hair. your husband quickens his pace, adding a second finger and curling them, causing waves of ecstasy to wash through your nerves.

you whine his name, voice shaking as you feel the knot in your stomach untying, pleasure blinding your vision. "w-wait! i can't--"

"of course you can, sweetheart," nanami soothes, pulling you closer to his face from where you scooted up to in a feeble attempt to escape him. "you just do what you do best, and i'll take care of the rest."

and finish with a silenced cry, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you feel the tension in your lower abdomen snap. your thighs close around your husband's head, though he doesn't stop his movements, sinking his face deeper into you and curling his fingers in a deliciously deliberate pace.

you are a panting mess when nanami finally comes to stand over you, amusement tugging at the corner of his slick-covered lips. one of his hands is massaging your hip to ease the spasming of your frame and the other he brings to his face. you watch as he cleans your mess from his fingers, a sigh escaping from his lips at the sight of you on the counter.

leaning down, he lets his lips fall to the crevice where your shoulder meets your neck, his incisors suddenly latching on and leaving you to gasp at the sudden sting of pain. "kento, she's sleeping!" your voice is an urgent whisper, though you know it's ineffective when he lets up to look you in the eye.

in his eyes burns the emotion of a man starved, and you're starting to wonder whether you'll even make it to the morning. it isn't until he pulls your legs to rest on his shoulders that you know for sure you're a goner.

kissing the inside of your leg, he confesses, "i never wanted just a snack, sweetheart."

#xx tb3ih #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #nanami smut #nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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fangswbenefits · 11 months

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A Series of Firsts

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

No warnings. Just pure fluff. Mentions of pregnancy. Dad girl Miguel. Protective dad Miguel.

First Kick

“What colour should we have on the walls?” Miguel asked one day.

“Beige?”

“Boring.”

“Red?”

“Too much.”

“Red and blue?”

“That’s too… spidey.”

You giggled at his remark. “We’ll just pick a neutral one and let her decide as she grows up.”

“That’s settled, then,” he murmured, resting the side of his head on your baby bump as both of you lay comfortably on the bed.

“Fingers crossed for a zebra pattern in purple and green,” you teased.

“She can have whatever she wants,” he said simply and you knew he meant it.

Warmth spread in your heart, realising Miguel would give her anything she’d ask for. Even the moon.

As you rolled a single strand of his hair around your finger, you gasped abruptly and halted.

Miguel shot up straight in full alert mode. “What is it? Are you okay?”

You nodded, running both hands along your belly, waiting to feel it once more.

He immediately picked up on the meaning of your sudden silence and placed a splattered hand next to yours.

It didn’t take long for a second kick to be felt and you watched his face awe. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” you whispered adoringly at his concern.

He paused briefly. “That was a strong kick.”

You placed your hand atop his. “She’ll take after you, then.”

First Time Meeting

Jessica placed the little bundle of joy into his arms as soon as the spider-nurses were done checking the vitals and dressing her.

“What is this?” Miguel asked with a light scowl, shifting to have the sleeping baby face you.

Even through your post-labour exhaustion you managed to giggle.

She was dressed in a red and blue suit-like onesie that had Peter’s face printed onto the fabric as rainbow coloured words read ‘my 1st spider suit’.

“Remind again me why we let him choose.”

“You know how Peter is,” you said softly. “It’s a very cute gift.”

“Right.”

Miguel didn’t seem all that convinced, but brought her back against his chest protectively.

You watched as Miguel’s hardened face immediately softened in adoration and, for a couple of minutes, he just stood there, rocking her lightly in his arms.

“She’s… tiny,” he concluded, fingers probing around her hand. “She’s perfect.”

He raised her slowly up to his face and he planted a soft kiss to her forehead, earning a sudden yawn.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to her, completely transfixed. “I’ll always protect you.”

Something inside you stirred. This big grumpy man with volatile moods had just been disarmed by a tiny baby.

That was definitely a sight to behold.

First Sleepless Night

“We’re not having another baby.”

“Agreed.”

“Ever.”

Miguel let out a measured sigh in agreement. “Ever.”

The two of you lay sprawled across the large bed, facing the ceiling as the first rays of sunshine began to lit up the room.

Your daughter had finally fallen asleep after hours of fighting against it, nearly driving both of you crazy in the process.

As you readied yourself to slide off the mattress, you felt Miguel’s hold on your wrist stilling you.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Please.”

You groaned inwardly. “I need to go pee, Miguel.”

Sleepy and bloodshot eyes met yours. “It took us hours to drain her energy… hold it in for a while,” now that was a desperate tone if you’d ever heard one from him.

You heaved a long and heavy sigh, feeling his thumb gently rubbing at your pulse point in sheer gratitude.

“Yup. No more babies, O’Hara.”

“Maybe one more?”

You shot him a death glare and he swallowed hard.

“… or not.”

First Scare

You paced around the apartment, having already lost count of the amount of baby monitors that Miguel had spread all over the place.

“This is a bit too much, no?”

Miguel was checking on the sleeping baby through the orange-tinted screen of his dimensional travel watch when he turned to glare at you like you had just said the most abominable thing ever.

“You can never be too careful,” he said in disbelief.

It was to be expected, really. Miguel was always obsessed with security no matter the context, so you couldn’t really say this surprised you.

“Even the watch?” you asked in awe.

“Of course. It’s a looped system that transmits directly to both our watches,” he said with a nod. “Any alteration in her bedroom trigers an alarm.”

Ever the scientist.

His eyes dropped to the hologram on his wrist and he let out a gasp.

“What?”

“She’s gone!”

Your heart nearly collapsed as a feral Miguel immediately set himself on all fours towards her bedroom, clawing at floor.

“Miguel!” you called after him in a hurry.

Once you reached the open door, you were presented with Peter holding your daughter as Mayday chuckled happily, seated on his shoulder.

“Peter!” Miguel growled, yanking your daughter from his hold and bringing her close to his chest defensively.

“Miguel! We were just paying a visit,” he chuckled. “Cute baby, by the way,” he turned to you with a smile and a flick of his fingers.

But Miguel was having none of that. “Out!”

Mayday stuck out her tongue at him right away, a habit she had yet to let gonof whenever Miguel was around.

“Lyla, why wasn’t the alarm triggered?”

The AI appeared by his shoulder at once, filing her nails. “You forgot to activate the security system, boss.”

First Word

“Pa~pá! Say it. Paaa~pá!”

“Cheater!” you exploded as you entered the kitchen in large steps.

Miguel turned to face you as your daughter giggled.

“We promised to let it be something spontaneous,” you lifted an accusing finger at him. “Cheater!”

He lifted both hands defensively. “I’m just giving her some help.”

In truth, you weren’t upset with him in the slightest. He had been such a constanr presence in his daughter’s life even through an exhausting amount of work around Nueva York.

You feigned indignation crossing your arms across your chest.

Miguel picked her out of the baby chair and walked towards you with a tentative smile.

“I’m sorry.”

Your front broke right away as he leaned to nudge his forehead against yours. “You’re still a cheater,” you accused, not able prevent your lips from curling into a smirk.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Your daughter started clapping enthusiastically. “Petaah~” and then burst into laughter.

Miguel looked down at her in shock. “What?”

It was almost comedic irony that the first word your daughter said was Peter, which had Miguel sulk for a couple of days.

First Steps

You missed kissing Miguel with no interruptions. Having some alone time in between taking care of your daughter was not easy to come by.

So whenever there was an opening, you’d both make it count.

He had your back pressed against the cold surface of the bedroom wall in no time, framing your face with both hands to deepen the searing kiss.

You melted into his touch right away, yearning for more.

Miguel broke the kiss momentarily to check his watch, panting lightly. “She’s still in the living room.”

You sighed in relief as he took your lips in his once more, hungrier this time. Both of your hands were resting on his firm chest, enjoying the way his muscles rippled under your touch.

Miguel hummed into you, swallowing your gasps and moans.

Your eyes were about to flutter shut when you detected movement out of the corner of your eye.

Panic took over and you immediately pushed Miguel away with a yelp.

Standing by the door was your daughter, gripping the frame with tiny hands, barely able to keep her balance.

Miguel offered her a kind smile. “Hey, you… come here.”

Your heart was hammering hard in your chest as you struggled to even your breathing.

She broke into an amused chuckle, wobbling in Miguel’s direction as he dropped to one knee. “Come here,” he encouraged.

But she would only take a couple of steps before her legs gave out under her to have her sit on the floor.

This was evidently very amusing as she kept trying to mimic her first attempt in between laughter

Miguel exchanged a proud smile with you and, for the first time in a long, you didn’t mind being interrupted.

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider man 2099 x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv miguel

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lightseoul · 1 year

Text

cw. gn!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining lmao (if you look extra closely)

“You’re late.”

At the sound of the pro-hero’s all-too-familiar gruff voice, you freeze, ass barely touching the chair you were about to sit on.

From where he sits across from you, Bakugou is now scowling.

Great, you think to yourself. Twenty seconds in and you’ve already triggered the beast.

“Sorry,” you say with the most apologetic smile you can muster. “Something urgent came up.”

At that, his scowl deepens, and his eyes seem to search for something as they flicker over your features. You feel yourself getting warm under the intensity of his gaze.

Three years of working under him and it still flusters you—being studied so blatantly by the #2 Pro-Hero, Bakugou Katsuki.

“What possibly could’ve been more urgent than an important meeting with your fucking boss?”

You internally scoff at his tactlessness, though you manage to seem unfazed on the outside. At the very least, the three years of being the HR head of the Dynamight agency have taught you how to deal with a certain someone.

Bakugou’s eye twitches so minutely, probably out of annoyance brought by the feigned innocence written all over your face.

You could lie and let the conversation move forward. But you’re feeling a little reckless, still reeling from that damned phone call you had a few minutes ago.

So you tell him the truth.

“I just got dumped over the phone.”

You expected a disinterested harrumph in response, not a choking fit over the ice-cold water he just downed.

You jump on your feet, circling the table to—supposedly—gently pat his back. Before you do so, though, you hesitate, hand awkwardly frozen mid-air, wondering for a second if touching any part of your boss’s body could put you in HR danger.

Once you gathered practically everyone in the restaurant’s attention and Bakugou has stopped coughing, you hesitantly circle back and sit on your chair.

“Are you okay?” you ask, as he wipes his mouth angrily with his napkin.

“‘m fine,” he croaks, not meeting your gaze for a moment before finally looking you in the eye.

He looks like he has something to say, but his words never come. His mouth merely opens and closes ever so slightly, you could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at it.

Why are you staring?

“Great,�� you shoot him a smile, grabbing one of the menus and thumbing through the decidedly sticky pages.

A pause.

“...You could’ve canceled, you know.”

At the sound of his uncharacteristically quiet voice, you look up, surprised.

“What?”

He sighs, probably irritated by your confusion. “You could’ve canceled the meeting,” he explains, “I would’ve understood.”

You can’t help but smile at him, the feeling of gratitude blooming in your chest. At the sight of it, he looks away, solemn.

“A commitment is a commitment,” you reply. “We already blocked off the hour to meet with the restaurant owner, and I don’t want to waste your precious time off patrol.”

“...Even though you just got dumped?”

Your heart throbs painfully at the mention of what just happened to you, but you quickly school your expression into a neutral one.

“Especially because I just got dumped.”

He chuckles. “What, you the type to throw yourself into work when life gets extra shitty?”

You playfully roll your eyes at his jab. “Don’t act like you don’t do that yourself, Bakugou-san.”

“I wasn’t,” he defends, smirking as he leans back against his seat. “Was just curious.”

Before you can even register what he just said, a waiter suddenly appears to your right, startling the both of you.

Bakugou then proceeds to order for himself, and as he does so, you study his face despite yourself, heart weirdly thrumming at the implications of what was just said.

“Make sure to have the report ready by 5 PM tomorrow,” he says, breaking the silence as you walk towards where he parked his car. “‘m planning to stop by the office to read it before the night shift starts.”

“Got it.”

Before you know it, you’ve already arrived. Despite yourself, your heart sinks at the thought of going home. Whether it’s because you literally just got dumped unceremoniously or because the surprisingly pleasant meeting is coming to an end, you don’t know.

Bakugou turns to face you, a hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his keys. “You sure you don’t need a ride?”

You nod. “The bus station is just a few blocks away.”

A silence falls upon you.

Again—there’s that serious look on his face as he studies you so intensely, it almost feels like scrutinizing. You’ve always felt vulnerable under Bakugou’s sharp gaze, but today it’s been extra piercing.

Finally accepting that it’s the end of the day and it’s time to go home, you nod again—more cheerfully this time—before you turn to leave.

You’re about a few feet away from him when he calls your name.

“For what it’s worth,” he semi-shouts, “it’s that dumbass’ loss.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

#we love an emotionally constipated bkg #confess to yn NOW #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n

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helloporcelain · 9 months

Text

Doux

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Astarion/fem!Tav Rating: explicit (18+) Tags: oral sex (involving period blood), piv sex, blood drinking, mutual pining, slow burn, orgasm denial, mentions of Astarion's trauma (but not graphic), there's also like the TINIEST mention of rimming & breathplay but i promise it's so mild, oneshot Summary: Tav seemed perfectly normal in their day to day, but Astarion knew that she was avoiding him. It had been that way since the last time he had fed on her. Read on AO3 if you prefer

Tav couldn't help but celebrate.

The last couple of days had been grueling. Gods, it had felt so good to finally get back to camp. A dip in the cool river, followed by a change into the lovely dress Alfira had gifted her, had Tav feeling like a brand new person for the night. She had stuffed herself so full on a feast of cheese pies and grilled pork belly that she nearly threw up, and then after, she dramatically retold the story of the goblin slaying to the group of wide-eyed children. It felt like a massive weight was lifted off her shoulders – she and her companions had been awarded a win, one they really needed.

Grateful tieflings swarmed Tav the entire night, showering her with wine-fueled hugs of gratitude. She waved off their praises, insisting that it had been a team effort and encouraged the others to accept their share of recognition as well, because there was no way she could’ve done it all by herself. Eventually, Tav found herself sandwiched between Shadowheart and Karlach on a log. The two women were drunk and engaged in unabashed flirtatious banter with each other. Tav, however, kept her wits about her. She took a swig from a tepid mug of ale, her eyes locked onto Astarion across the camp. He was visibly annoyed by the children surrounding him, all clamoring to catch a glimpse of the bow he used to slay goblins.

In the midst of all the chaos, he caught her staring at him through the dancing tieflings. Astarion tipped his head sideways, as if asking a question. Startled, she choked on her drink, inadvertently spilling some on Karlach.

“Oops,” Tav said, as Shadowheart leaned over her lap to wipe off the ale from Karlach’s pants before the sizzle of the burning liquid caused her to yelp and quickly withdraw her hand.

“We really need to fix that, don’t we?” Shadowheart muttered sarcastically, fanning her injured hand, attempting to cool it down.

“Maybe lay off the wine,” Tav suggested sarcastically. “I’m going to go make my rounds. The people need their gracious host.”

She set off to mingle with the others, and felt the stare radiating through her as she joined the nearby chatter. Lia and Cal, to be exact, were begging for Rolan to present some fireworks. Rolan conjured a rather underwhelming prestidigitation spell, prompting Tav to tuck her mug under her armpit and offer a polite clap after an awkward pause. Round and round, Tav meandered through the camp as she talked to everyone, hells, even Withers, avoiding Astarion as if her life depended on it. With each new person, they topped her mug off with fresh ale.

As the night wore on and the ale warmed her cheeks, Tav found herself growing increasingly uninhibited. By the time she reached Halsin, she couldn’t resist flirting with him. Who could blame her? Halsin’s gigantic muscles had called out to her, and he was nothing if not good natured. The mountain of an elf laughed off her inebriated advances gently – his head was elsewhere, not that she blamed him.

“There are many grateful people here who would want to spend time with you,” Halsin said, a glint in his eye. Tav wanted to follow the look, but chose not to, knowing where it trailed behind her. “I must not keep you all to myself. As enjoyable as that may be.”

She offered something of an agreement before she wandered off to the nearby river, seeking solace and a moment to contemplate on her thoughts, away from the songs and dancing.

The first time Astarion fed on her, Tav had accidentally fallen into a trance one night outside her tent. She had insisted the rest of her companions get some sleep while she cleaned up from the mess they made at supper. After washing the cauldron out in the river, she lugged it back to the fire and had meant to sit down for just a second of rest. Before she knew it, she had drifted off, only to awaken with Astarion hovering over her, teeth bared, wearing an expression she had never seen before. With a dagger pressed to his chest, the look was gone, replaced by a frantic attempt to explain why he had loomed over her so ominously. She couldn't fathom why he was scared; he knew her knife skills were almost as poor as Gale's.

When he confessed the truth, Tav's heart grew heavy – heavy for the way he asked for her trust, no, insisted that she could trust him. Every instinct in her screamed she would be foolish to, but she did.

But she was firm; he could feed on her this one time. After that, it was enemies only, or else. Companions weren’t food, they needed their strength just as he did, and he would not become accustomed to using her – or any of them, for that matter – to satisfy his needs.

Not that any of the others lined up to be his bloodwell... though the group tolerated Astarion, there’d been a sense of uneasiness among the others about the truth.

Tav braced herself for discomfort at best (and suffering, at worst), but she was completely thrown when all she felt was desire. The unexpected pleasure took her by surprise, though it made sense in hindsight. If it were nothing but pain, vampires wouldn't have gained their notorious reputation for seduction. It felt as though Astarion had plunged his fingers into the depths of her chest and held her heart in a vice-like grip. The more blood he drew from her, the more she wanted for Astarion to take everything he needed, even at the cost of her own life. In the briefest second, Tav felt herself fading away to the gentle chill of her lifesource dwindling, her neck so numb she couldn’t parse out where his fangs were. In the end, she barely pushed him off her, doubting his self control. Tav noticed the change in Astarion immediately – his face looked brighter, his eyes less dull. Before he left, he promised he wouldn’t forget the gift that she had given him.

Two weeks later, Tav surprised herself by offering her blood to him a second time.

The camp was quieter than usual. It had been a long day and it had taken its toll on them all. Auntie Ethel turned out to be much more than they had anticipated – offering no cure, only trouble. Shadowheart had gone to her tent for her evening prayers. Gale blew his candles out early, claiming eight hours of sleep was necessary for his mind, body, and complexion. The rest sat by the fire, settling for a bit of relaxation before they retired for the night. Lae’zel, Wyll and Karlach were engaged in a very competitive game of cards while Astarion lounged nearby, engrossed in a book he had stolen from the hag’s teahouse.

Tav had been writing furiously in her journal next to him, when she reached down to her satchel, rummaging through to find an apple for dessert. She couldn’t help but peek at him through the corner of her eye. Astarion had been unusually silent since their return to camp. She had a feeling he was tense from their run in with the monster hunter earlier that day. During the exchange, she noticed a second of panic run across his face as Gandrel revealed who he was searching to capture. The monster hunter never did end up accomplishing his job – courtesy of Astarion and his dagger.

“If you have something to say, Tav, darling,” he said, his eyes fixed on his book. “You should just say it. It’s ill-mannered to stare.”

Tav turned the apple over in her lap, contemplating if it was smart to broach the subject, then began nonchalantly, “I don’t suppose you want to address what happened earlier.”

“You want to hear about Cazador,” Astarion said with a tired disdain. “My old master. Before the mind flayers took me from him. Before this strange, twisted freedom.” He slammed the book shut with one hand, and Tav listened intently as he painted a picture of Cazador. A cruel, paranoid master who tortured Astarion for two centuries. A monster obsessed with power, a monster of which it was very clear that Astarion would go to great lengths to never return to.

It was so much worse than Astarion had let on.

“Why do you think he wants you alive?” she asked.

Astarion pursed his lips. “Maybe he wants to make an example of me. To show what happens to runaways.” He cast his eyes aside before giving her a solemn look. “Or, maybe, he thinks death is too good for me.”

Tav had always known that Astarion wore a mask, but she had never realized just how often it was in place. It was a remarkably well crafted one, but every mask was bound to slip off at some point. From the very first day they crossed paths, she had found something about him to be perplexing, though she couldn't put her finger on it. She had thought of him as arrogant, a little malicious, and selfish. Yet, in that moment, as his gaze drifted far away into the embers of the fire, she saw something else—a hint of fear.

“I’m sorry, Astarion,” she said with sincerity. There wasn’t much else for her to say, and she doubted he wanted empty platitudes.

Astarion nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, but – this isn’t about sympathy. It’s about knowing what we might be up against. The mind flayers aren’t the only monsters out there, hunting us. All I’m asking is that you keep your eyes open, and watch out for anything lurking in the shadows.”

Her hand inched closer to his fingers, an inhumane chill radiating from them. Tav thought about putting her hand over his in comfort, but thought it too intimate of a gesture for them. “As long as I’m around, I’ll watch your back,” she promised. “You will never go back to him. I won’t let it happen.”

Astarion’s posture relaxed as he pulled his hand away from the warmth of hers, and gave her a smile – the one that never reached his eyes. “What more could I ask for? Now, is that all?”

His fingers tapped a restless beat on his book, as though they might start flipping the pages on their own. Tav studied his face. He had deep mauve bags under his eyes, and his gaze had darkened to the color of oxblood. She wondered how many animals he must have voraciously consumed to still remain so far from the vibrant state he had been in after she had shared her blood with him. Tav weighed the decision to offer him her blood again. She pictured Astarion feeding on rats as if daintily sipping tea from a tiny cup and it was somewhat amusing, but mostly it just made her pity him.

“I was thinking…” she paused, looking down to the apple in her lap. She brought it up to her face and peered at it, checking it for worms.

“Oh no. That’s never a good sign.”

Rolling her eyes, she continued, "...that you looked more weary than usual. Perhaps you might fancy a bite?" His fingers slowed their tapping as his eyes fixated on her mouth. Tav crunched into the apple and cocked her head at him.

"Well," Astarion replied, a hint of pleasant surprise in his tone. "I suppose if you're offering a treat, then who am I to turn you down?"

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Tav said, expression stern as she emphasized her words. “We won’t make a habit of this. But… we do need you strong for when we reach the goblin camp.”

Astarion’s smile changed into the nefarious smirk that she was familiar with. “If you say so,” he purred, leaning closer to whisper in her ear. “Come to my tent after the others have fallen asleep.”

Two hours later, she cursed herself for picking the furthest possible area from him to lay down her tent. Tav quietly crept across the camp to Astarion, pausing every couple of steps just to listen for snores. She just didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea; as the unofficial leader of the group, feeding Astarion was a purely strategic move.

Sneaking past Karlach was nerve-wracking – she had an open tent, explaining that she ran too hot in an enclosed space. Luckily, the barbarian slept still like a boulder. It was Scratch, who dozed at her feet, that made Tav pause. She brought her finger to her lips and gestured for the dog to stay quiet, his sleepy eyes following her until she reached Astarion's tent. She crouched and leaned against the closed fabric.

Not knowing what to say, Tav whispered, “Dinner’s here.”

“Cute. Come in, darling.”

Tav poked into the tent and found him reclining on his bedroll, propped up by an excessive number of pillows, more than anyone else had. He had stolen them in Waukeen’s Rest, grumbling about missing the comfort of a proper bed like a civilized person. It was her first time seeing the inside of his tent, and she couldn't resist taking it all in. The inside was dimly lit by a single candle atop a stack of looted books, and next to him was a tray hosting an array of colorful rings and necklaces he collected from both unsuspecting innocents and dead bodies. Even out in the wilderness, Astarion was opulent. He had changed into his fine nightclothes and looked at her with a raised eyebrow – she was still wearing her muddy, fight-stained cloak.

“Ah, right.” She looked down at herself. “I washed up, promise. Just didn’t want to traipse around at this hour in my nightshirt.” She shrugged the coat off onto the ground, revealing a plain night outfit. “I don’t plan on being in here long.”

"Well, make yourself comfortable nonetheless," Astarion beckoned, sitting up and gesturing towards the snug space they now shared. “Just be very quiet and our little midnight rendezvous will stay a secret.” He shuffled on his pillows, inviting her closer.

“I should’ve hoarded some pillows like you,” Tav remarked. “You’re resting like a little princess.”

Astarion chuckled. "Oh, my dear, you'll be sleeping quite soundly after I'm finished here. Come, sit on my lap." She hesitated, making a reluctant face.

"Now, don't be difficult," he continued with a playful grin. "It'll be far more comfortable for you this way. I wouldn't want to accidentally suffocate you again, as I nearly did last time." Tav inched towards him, careful to not touch anywhere but the bedroll. She knelt down and followed his request, straddling him while placing a hand on his shoulder for support. A sudden shiver ran down her spine as she felt just how icy he was, catching her off guard.

"Sorry," Tav broke the silence, "You’re so cold. I grew up with the chill, but you’re different."

“I have bad circulation,” Astarion replied dryly.

Tav shifted her body on him, hoping he didn’t realize how mortified she was. "Are you comfortable?"

He responded with an earnest chuckle and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. "You're rather adorable, aren't you?" He gently pushed her face to the side, positioning her neck at the perfect angle for him. "I knew you liked this more than you let on."

“Don’t speak nonsense,” she spluttered, her head snapping back to look at him. “I am doing you a favor.”

Astarion adjusted her face to the side again, his hand now more firmly gripping her chin. “Don’t be coy,” he murmured, low and seductive. “Your body has already given you away.”

He leaned into her neck, taking in her smell, lips hovering over her bare skin. “I could feel it, you know, as I was getting lost in your neck. Your little shakes of excitement.” Tav’s back stiffened and she felt the urge to leap and run out the tent, but his other arm tightened its grasp around her hip. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

Her body betrayed her when she gasped as his mouth pressed against her skin, goosebumps prickling her arms and the back of her neck.

“You don’t have to say a thing. I already know how you feel. I feel it too.”

And then he sunk his fangs into the pulse of Tav’s neck, her fingers digging into his arm. Her stinging skin parted under his sharp teeth with frightening ease. Tav never thought of herself as delicate, but she felt as vulnerable as a little rabbit torn apart by a hound.

She jerked suddenly when Astarion bit down harder, willing her frantically beating heart to pump more blood faster into his mouth. He made a small noise, something resembling relief, as each droplet surged past his lips. Sucking away and lapping at the wound at the base of her neck, as if he were merely cleaning up a small mess he made, caused an electric sensation to shoot through her spine and then down to her groin. His hands dug a tighter grip into the sides of her body as he sucked and sucked and sucked. Black dots slowly speckled her vision as if distant stars were blinking into existence. She let out a choked whimper, her body quivering beyond her control. Blissed out crimson eyes met hers as he pulled away briefly, his lips glistening with her life's essence. His gaze burned into her, the hunger swirling in his eyes.

“That’s a strange definition of quiet.”

Before she could reply, Astarion placed a firm palm over her mouth. With his lips away from her neck, she felt her blood flow down her collarbones, dripping into the hollow of her chest. He tongued at the trail at the top of her shoulders, lapping up the burgundy rivulets. She shuddered as he went lower to her ruffled nightshirt, and he gently pulled down at it just enough to lazily clean up the remaining droplets at the top of her breasts.

Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to control her breathing, and that was when Tav noticed the hardness pressed underneath her. “Just a little more, darling,” Astarion panted.

His tongue scorched on her skin as he licked up the trail, fangs grazing her skin on his way back to the puncture marks. His hand fell from Tav’s mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head as another gush of warm blood hit his tongue, coating every crevice of his mouth.

“Astarion.”

His name tumbled out from her in a moan, as she was painfully aware in equal parts both of the erection against her and the wetness soaking through her undergarment. He didn’t respond, but he did stop suckling at her neck. “You can stop now.”

Then with a degree of reluctance, he removed his lips from her, mouth and chin so completely covered in her blood that it looked morbidly lewd. Tav looked up at him with wide eyes, heart pounding.

“We could get some privacy,” Astarion murmured after a few seconds passed. His fingers traced down her back, sending a tickle through her backbone. She stiffened, keeping her eyes fixed on his, a reply trapped in her throat. “To enjoy ourselves more. I know somewhere quiet, not far from here.” He shifted his lap and pressed himself against her, to show her what he meant, if he wasn’t clear enough.

Tav’s resolve wavered for a moment, but she quickly composed herself and moved to push herself off him, though his arms behind her back kept her in place. “That– that's enough, actually,” she responded, her ragged breath catching up to an even pace. She wasn’t going to respond to his suggestion. Tav knew he was toying with her, that he thought her naive.

“You’re looking better already, for a dead man,” Tav said coolly. He huffed in annoyance and leaned back, granting her space to stand up from his lap. “Your eyes,” she observed. “They glow when you feed on me. A person’s blood does wonders for you."

Astarion lifted his hand up to his mouth, swiping off the wet, shining blood. He coated his fingers with what remained and languidly sucked, keeping a fixed gaze on her that made her want to run for the hills.

“That is the understatement of the century, my dear.”

Tav tried to hide the way her fingers trembled as she attempted to button up her cloak, haphazardly connecting the wrong ones. He watched her intently as she covered up his bite with the garment. She opened the flap halfway and, before she left, turned to face Astarion, her voice firm. “Don’t expect this again.”

Astarion offered a wry smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Astarion didn't fancy himself a connoisseur of puzzles and riddles. He loathed prolonged attempts at figuring things out. Patience was a virtue he seldom possessed, especially if figuring out something – or someone – took too long. He supposed he'd grown accustomed to resolving things rather quickly, a skill honed during centuries of servitude to his demanding master, Cazador.

Well… former master. But Astarion didn't want to regard Cazador in past terms, not just yet. He didn’t feel he had the luxury. Not while the wicked vampire lord was actively searching for him. Astarion was skilled at deception, but he refused to lie to himself; fear gnawed at him relentlessly and he found himself barely able to meditate in peace most of the time. He was plagued by nightmares of Cazador finding him and dragging him back into his clutches. So, he conceived of backup plan upon backup plan. He didn’t entirely rule out Raphael – the devil potentially had the power to free him from Cazador, but it would undoubtedly come with strings attached. Would the worm wriggling behind his eye be key to his freedom? Perhaps, if he didn’t turn into a mindflayer first.

Ironically, all of those possibilities just meant merely shifting him from one master’s control to another.

Astarion sighed, keeping a watchful eye on Mol. She thought she was being quite sneaky, attempting to pickpocket him. He flicked the child in the forehead as punishment, and sent her scampering away with a handful of rings he had deliberately allowed her to take.

Why had he been granted a second, well, technically third chance at life, only to be confronted with one grim option after another? What had he done in his previous life to deserve this? He had been so young when he turned, Astarion couldn't quite recall the details anymore. He remembered working for the government—and probably was not the most benevolent magistrate back then—but surely, he couldn't have been any worse than any other charlatan. It’s not like he kicked children or orchestrated an illicit gnome trafficking ring, right?

His chain of thoughts broke at the sight of Tav’s bright eyes locked on him from across the camp. She averted her gaze when he returned the look. After that, all he could see was the curtain of her hair veiling her face as she maneuvered around the camp, chatting with everybody else.

Tav seemed perfectly normal in their day to day, but Astarion knew that she was avoiding him. It had been that way since the last time he had fed on her. And she was right to avoid him; it was a foolish thing she had done, trusting Astarion like that. She just couldn’t help herself, could she? Anyone who batted an eyelash at her and cried a sob story got a helping hand from her, it didn’t matter who. She didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t how the world worked – some people weren’t destined to be helped, no matter how often they prayed to the gods.

Tav was good and it sickened him.

Without her, Astarion thought, he would’ve been content to let the tieflings meet their fate, either slaughtered on the road or at the hands of the druids – it didn’t make a difference to him. In fact, he doubted the others really cared to resolve the whole Druids vs Tieflings dispute in the midst of their tadpole predicament. But Tav rallied them just the right amount that none of them could ever say no to her.

The others genuinely valued her opinion, and often looked to her for guidance, whether they realized it or not. Being on Tav’s good side was the intelligent thing to do, Astarion had quickly gathered. She had vouched for him when the others recoiled at his true nature – most would have stabbed a stake through his heart for what he stupidly attempted to do that night. He needed her on his side. Astarion wasn’t sure what would end up happening after reaching Moonrise Towers, and he was ashamed to admit he didn’t want to go at it alone. He didn’t know how to be alone. The entire concept of solitude unsettled him.

The men and women he was accustomed to manipulating for Cazador crumbled before him with little effort. Seduction had been his modus operandi for over two centuries. Honeyed words and enticing caresses were second nature to Astarion, always serving as a sinister means to a grim end – delivering innocent victims into the clutches of Cazador for torture, death, or worse.

This was precisely what made Tav simultaneously so magnetic and so frustrating. She hadn't succumbed to his charms as expected. Astarion had even briefly entertained the possibility that maybe she just wasn’t interested in men, but that idea was dismissed when he overheard a late-night conversation between her and Lae’zel, who had made quite an aggressive advance – one she promptly rebuffed. So, what would it take to make her more receptive to his advances?

“Sulking will ruin your pretty face, Astarion.” Shadowheart’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I thought you, of all people, would know how to have a little fun tonight.”

He scoffed at her, dramatically eyeing her figure up and down. “If that were possible, then you would be the ugliest one here, my dear.”

Shadowheart stared at him for a moment and then broke out into an uncharacteristic giggle. “We have a long road ahead – be happy that we are all still in one piece, and celebrate for just one night. I know I am,” she said, waving a bottle of wine towards him.

“Is that Marsember Blush?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, recognizing the fine vintage wine. “Where did you unearth that? I know that didn’t come from the tiefling’s sorry supplies.”

“You’re not the only one with sticky fingers,” Shadowheart replied, a sly smile on her lips. “And no, I’m not offering any to you. I already have someone to share it with.” With that, she made her way back to the fire near Karlach, who was engrossed in showing the tiefling children her burning Hellion heart.

He scanned the area for Tav and he found her staring at Halsin with an adoring look. Astarion couldn’t help but feel envious that he wasn’t the recipient of the smile, so gentle that it betrayed the notorious reputation that followed dark elves. He frowned, thinking of Shadowheart's words – she was right. He would have a little fun tonight, and he would get Tav to adore him so thoroughly that she wouldn't ever entertain the thought of betraying him.

Astarion impatiently tapped his foot, waiting for Tav to approach him, but she continued on, disappearing around a corner and heading toward a waterfall beyond the camp. Deciding to follow, he snagged a bottle of wine from a passed-out bard and made his way to her. Astarion found her sitting against a boulder, her head tilted back as she gazed at the stars above.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Astarion said. “Done basking in the limelight, Tav? Got tired of having high praises sung to you?”

She fiddled with the collar of the lovely dress that she wore for the occasion. “I needed a moment to myself. I don’t get them often lately.” Tav looked up at him, her slate gray skin glowing in the moonlight. Despite the mismatched eyes (thanks to her trusting Volo a little too much), she was beautiful, he noted, and he did have a fondness for beautiful things. Bedding her wouldn't be torture; it could have been worse.

“I’m glad I was able to help them, to show that we’re not all Lolth’s servants. It’s usually a little funny, but sometimes being looked at like a monster is tiring,” Tav confessed.

He blinked, taken aback by Tav’s unexpectedly sincere admission, wondering if he had picked a bad moment to approach her. However, she patted the ground next to her, inviting him to sit, and then she chuckled. "Sorry. Did I ruin the mood?"

Astarion settled down against the rock, bumping his shoulder against hers. Tav watched him intently as he worked on removing the corkscrew from the wine. When he tilted the bottle in her direction as an offer, she declined with a shake of her head, prompting Astarion to take a sip himself. He grimaced from the acrid taste.

“Well, I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I’d be the one people would toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” he paused, taking another mouthful. “I hate it. It’s awful.”

“It’s not that bad. Think of all the nasty little goblins you got to kill.”

“True…” Astarion smiled impishly, thinking fondly on the many different ways to murder. Regular arrows dipped in poison or set ablaze with fiery magic, the thrust of a dagger into vulnerable flesh. The memories were invigorating.

“That was fun," he mused. "Still, I would've liked more for my trouble than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine. All I want is a little excitement tonight, is that so much to ask? The good kind – not the 'we might turn into hideous mind flayers at any moment' excitement." He sighed dramatically and raised the bottle for another sip.

Suddenly, she swiped the bottle from him, and took a long swig. When she lowered the bottle, he watched as her face juggled through a few emotions, ultimately landing on disgust. “See what I mean? Awful.”

“Absolutely dreadful," she remarked before bursting into laughter.

This close, her scent was intense, sending a thrill through his body. She had a distinct aroma, one that he could uniquely parse out from everyone else’s. Tav smelled of amber and spiced honey and pink pepper, even through the grime and chaos of their adventures.

“Well, you’ve heard the saying? Beggars can’t be choosers,” she slurred slightly, playfully hiding the bottle behind her back.

“Look at you… my treat with her cheeks all flushed,” he tutted. Astarion peered into her eyes with practiced adoration. “I’m amazed you managed to keep your mind clear enough to fight. I’ve been thinking about our last night together ceaselessly, you know.”

Astarion wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the last time she visited his tent.

He recalled vividly how she had melted under his teeth, the way her body went limp like a puppet cut from their strings. He had felt profoundly powerful, and she had tasted exquisite, nothing like the rats he had been forced to sustain himself on for centuries. An excitement he had never felt before coursed through his bones at the first droplet. Astarion told himself afterwards it was only because she was his first. He had hoped to have her then, to get the chase done with, as he could smell her arousal clear as day. She had obviously wanted more. And yet, she ran from him. Playing hard to get, he surmised.

“You could just ask for more blood,” Tav responded bitterly. “I knew the goblins weren’t for your refined palate.” The bottle was pushed back into his lap. “You don’t have to woo me with your—” She made a wild gesture with her hands. “—vampiric charms.”

He had hoped a wine-addled Tav would be easier to seduce.

“Darling, you wound me.” Astarion put a hand to his heart dramatically. “I saw you earlier, with Halsin. Well, everybody did. Subtlety is clearly not your forte. The way you looked at him had me positively green with envy. Well, I guess I can’t fault your taste, he is a fine specimen.”

Tav’s ears flushed with embarrassment and she looked away, fixating intently at the fish nearby. They swam down the stream and it reminded Astarion of her, eager to get away from him.

“That was nothing. Just laughter between friends,” she downplayed.

“Is it so hard to believe that hearing that brings me relief?”

Another truth. She would be considerably easier to have if she wasn’t attached to someone else.

"Is it so hard to believe…" He extended his hand to caress her cheek, his touch gentle and tender. “That I want you? That there’s not a single soul tonight, here or otherwise, who I’d rather be with.” When she met his gaze again, Astarion thought he might have caught his little fish by the hook after all.

“Such bewitching lies,” Tav marveled. “I almost believe them. Oh, you’re good.”

“You don’t have to believe what I say, darling. You just need to believe how I feel .”

He inched towards her, allowing the wine bottle to roll away from his lap and into the river. Astarion pressed a feather light kiss to her jaw, then her cheek. His fingers held her chin, guiding her to him. When their lips finally met, a sigh escaped her, and Astarion couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as her mouth willingly parted to welcome him. Despite the foul wine, she tasted sweet. And he found that he didn’t mind it, not at all.

Tav grew more enthusiastic, deepening the kiss. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue in, and clamped his teeth onto her bottom lip, drawing the flesh into his mouth. She moaned, muffled against him. He had drawn blood. He broke the kiss to lap the blood from her lips, and he felt his cock twitch. A natural reaction for any vampire, he told himself. Blood was simply too exciting.

Tav drew away from him, breathless, her lip bruised. “Are you…hungry, Astarion?” she asked.

Astarion considered her question. He could tell her yes. He could answer that he was always hungry, that he could drink and drink and there'd still be something missing, gnawing away in his chest. It was an insatiable yearning, an emptiness that no amount of blood would ever fill—a bleak hunger that defined his existence, a constant reminder of the curse that haunted him.

Or he could choose to play pretend instead. That would be easier to swallow.

He put on a mischievous smile. “In what way?”

"Don’t be cheeky," she said, a blush gracing her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I had a feeling you might be. It’s been some time... and you always seem so much stronger and happier when you've had your fill."

"And your point is?" Astarion asked, though he already had a sense where this was going. He just wanted to hear her say it.

“That I can help you. That you might as well continue to use me.” She winced at her phrasing. “I don’t have to be a vampire to understand that animals aren’t the same. I suppose if we come to an agreement about it, the others will have to mind their business. Just tell me when you need it. That is – if you want to, anyway.”

His eyes darkened at the proposition. “How delightfully pragmatic of you,” he purred in response.

Tav had given him a refreshing game of cat and mouse, but she succumbed to his beauty, just like everyone else before her. Astarion wished he could say he was surprised, but it’d be a lie. This was how it always worked. You want something, you need to give something. He would shut his brain off, bed her and give her a night of earth shattering pleasure; in return he was not only basically guaranteed protection from Cazador, but was also given a reliable source of blood. Two birds, one stone.

There was nothing else he needed to hear, so Astarion swiftly pulled her into his lap, a surprised squeak escaping her lips. “Hey–”

He pressed a finger to her lips and kissed behind her ear, then her neck. Tav let out a sigh of defeat and leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. Astarion’s curled fingers traced at the healing puncture marks with admiration, thumbs pressing half-moons into her skin. He dragged the tip of a fang over her skin, slicing a neat line. Small beads of blood began to well up along the thin cut, and he closed his mouth over it and sank in. His third time, and yet it was just as exciting as the first – Astarion was well aware that anyone would be appetizing in contrast to his dismal vegetarian diet, but still wondered if others would be better, compared to her.

If that was possible. He wasn’t sure at that moment.

Astarion lost himself in an instant as he buried his senses in her neck, a haze of sensation enveloping him like an intoxicating fog. He had understood then Cazador's obsession—how could one not want to ensnare a person, to chain them in perpetual captivity, to render them an unwilling pet, when they tasted like this?

“Not too much,” Tav breathed heavily, her voice trembling. “I might –” She shuddered against him, and he groaned in response, but his hunger drove him forward. Astarion was starving, didn’t she understand? After two hundred years of shit, pure shit, he deserved something better. He was never going to return to the days of deprivation; he would do anything to ensure that pathetic version of himself was gone for good.

Tav’s fingers grasped around his curls, trying to pull him away from the shadow of her neck, but in her weakened state, it was no use. If anything, it spurred Astarion on. Euphoria clouded his judgement, eyes glazed over with sanguine lust as his fangs disappeared deeper into her tender flesh, blood bursting around him. He tugged at Tav’s hips, pressing her down against him, eliciting a whimper from her. His cock had swelled with arousal and Astarion tried to recall the last time he had gotten so hard of his own volition. He couldn’t.

You are still a slave, an unwelcome voice from the depths of his consciousness sneered. A slave to your innate desire. Why deny your true nature?

It took every ounce of willpower in his body to not drain her completely, to disregard the sinister suggestions. Astarion found the strength to pull away, his nose nuzzling against Tav’s jaw as he regained his composure.

"There's a clearing in the forest," he spoke with a steady voice, his fingers gently stroking her hair as she struggled to catch her breath. “I have been waiting to have you. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.”

Tav snorted. “I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t you?” He looked at her with steeled eyes, masking the irritation that simmered in him. He kept the thorniness out of his tone. “I think you want to be known. To be tasted.”

“And what do you want?”

Astarion’s voice hushed in a sensual murmur, the kind he found most weak willed people were prey to. “What do any of us want? Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me.”

“You act like you know everything,” Tav replied, finally looking at him. Her expression was inscrutable, but the smell of desire radiating off her was unmistakable.

“A pretty man and his prettier words.” She cupped his face, as if she were to lean in and kiss him. But she didn’t. “I’m tired. I hope I was able to help you.”

Astarion watched dumbfounded as she pushed up from his cradle and his arms fell limp to his side. She rejected him again, he thought incredulously. He didn’t look away until she had turned and disappeared back into camp. Then he wiped the remaining blood off his face with his fingers, fully intending to savor what was left. But then something stole his attention—a motionless fish floating in the stream. Without thinking, he plunged his hands into the water to catch it. Astarion had it for a second, until it wriggled its way out and plopped back into the water, swimming away in a swirl of crimson.

They had been venturing through the labyrinth of the Underdark for countless days. It was a quiet familiarity that Tav was thankful for, despite the fact that she had left for the world above many years ago. After everything that she’d gone through recently, she welcomed something that still made sense to her. She understood it – tricky paths to avoid, what poisonous plants you shouldn’t go near, the right grounds to make camp on. Due to the nature of the journey she was on with her companions, however, she grew to anticipate unwelcome surprises.

Still, it hadn’t made it any easier to accept that her cycle had started – Tav had completely forgotten all about amidst the chaos of their tadpole predicament. Drow females only bled every three months and their cycles were extremely heavy and painful. It hit her one day as they were on the trail towards Grymforge, crossing paths with Filro the Forgotten and his hook horrors. The man hadn’t even let her utter a greeting before he attempted to murder them.

“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” Gale had complained, jumping out of the way.

Tav was in the middle of casting a fire spell when she felt a heavy gush in her underwear. She stuttered, registering the feeling, and attempted the spell again. This time, her aim was off, narrowly missing the wizard and instead scorching the hair on the top of his head.

"My friend, have you lost your mind?" Gale shouted at her. "We discussed the value of my own life at length! To kill me is counterproductive!"

Her hand went to her abdomen instinctively as the cramps lurched through her. “My bad,” she stammered. She took a few steps back, watching Karlach charge ahead with a hammer to whack the vulture-like monstrosity just a hair's breadth away from the wizard’s face.

"To be sure, I am also averse to being bludgeoned!" he yelled at Karlach. A dripping, acid-coated arrow flew overhead from behind him and pierced the Filro’s right eyeball. Gale threw his hands up in the air with exasperation and quickly teleported himself away to higher, safer ground, muttering something about the stars not being in his favor.

Lae’zel probed at Filro’s lifeless body with her foot. “The elf is dead,” she confirmed, sounding disappointed.

Astarion stepped up beside Tav, tucking his arrows away. “Did one of those wretched creatures manage to swipe at you?” His tone displayed concern, but his face betrayed a hint of intrigue.

Shadowheart whipped her head around at his question. “Are you hurt?” she asked, scanning Tav’s body for noticeable wounds. “I’ll tend to you when we’ve set up camp for the night.”

“No!” Tav blustered, causing Shadowheart to raise her eyebrows in confusion. She quickly clarified: “I’m fine . Astarion is mistaken. I think you might do well to take a look at Gale, though. I may have caused a bald spot.”

In the hours that followed, Tav maintained her distance from Astarion – as he had made it abundantly clear that he could smell her – while they all continued their search for a spot to set up camp. Eventually, they stumbled on an area with access to freshwater, a true blessing. By this point, Tav was simply relieved to have her long cloak, otherwise the others would’ve known for sure that she was bleeding through her trousers like a youngling. She diligently set up her tent, choosing a spot far away from Astarion and close to the lake.

Astarion had not asked to feed on her since they left for the Underdark, and Tav had no intention of offering, especially considering the situation unfolding between her thighs.

Their interactions had remained normal as can be, largely because Tav had bigger matters to occupy her mind than pondering her feelings for him, as if she were a little girl with a crush. Time was a valuable commodity lately and she wouldn’t use her precious free moments dwelling on a man who almost certainly didn’t give her a second thought, unless it was to take something from her. Tav scolded herself every time she found herself looking at him too long or when she thought she saw something softer underneath the shield of malevolence he wore. It was all just a game to him, she told herself, like it was to most vampires.

After everyone had gone to bed, Tav finally snuck out to wash her clothes at the lake and go for a dip in the water. She wasn’t a prude – she had bathed many times with the women, but sometimes she just desperately needed a moment to herself. Even for something as silly as scrubbing the stains of her cycle out from her pants. She finished cleaning up and made her way back to her tent, dismayed that her fresh cloth was already getting ruined. Tav nearly jumped out her skin when she walked into her bunk and saw Astarion lying nonchalantly on her bedroll.

“Are you mad?” she hissed at him. “You’re lucky I’m not human, or I would’ve had half a mind to stab you in the darkness.”

“We both know you wouldn’t have been quick enough to,” Astarion drawled, sitting up. “You sorcerers leave much to be desired when it comes to your hand-eye coordination.”

They looked at each other for a beat, both listening for any stirring sounds from the others.

“Why are you here?” Tav demanded.

Astarion replied with a sly grin. “I happen to recall a certain somebody making the generous offer that if I ever got hungry, I could come to them.”

Tav’s fingers combed through her damp hair as she reflected back on an offer she did indeed make.

“I did say that, yes,” she admitted. “But we can’t tonight. Not until I–”

She halted, a painful cramp pulsing through her.

“…Until I’m done with my bleeding. I’ve lost too much already, I’ll be too weak for you to feed on and Gods know if you end up draining me, you’ll have to wake a very cranky Shadowheart up.”

Tav opened her tent and held her arm out, signaling for him to get out. “We can revisit this in a few days. I’ll let you know when.”

“Revisit? What, like we’re discussing tactical advances?” Astarion bristled with frustration as he stood up.

"My dear, I don't believe you grasp the... gravity of the situation. Your scent–“ He accused, his tone growing more intense. "–has been tormenting me for hours. It has taken every ounce of restraint in my being to resist the urge to drag you away from the others and drink until I’ve drowned in your blood. I am utterly and maddeningly ravenous.”

Her hand faltered from the tent flap, closing them in the obscurity of her tent again.

“It won’t have to hurt like usual.” His pupils dilated wildly as he inched closer. Astarion looked feral. “No biting required. I’d hate to waste precious resources.”

Tav’s face paled when she realized what he was suggesting. She didn’t think she was comfortable with the idea, and yet a warmth started blooming through her.

“And it might provide a distraction from the pain in your belly,” he hummed, latching her tent shut. “I’d say this benefits the both of us.”

“Who’s the pragmatic one now?” Tav answered, her toes tingling. It was a very bad idea, she told herself, way too intimate for what she originally offered.

But when Astarion kneeled down, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns up her thighs before he pressed a gentle kiss against her abdomen, and whispered, "Please, darling," she made up her mind.

It was the sensible thing to do. In fact, she reasoned with herself, if she gave Astarion perfectly acceptable, readily available blood now, she wouldn't have to put herself through any more bites for a while. His intense gaze met hers as he looked up, his eyes filled with a potent mix of hunger and desire. His nails gently scraped against the back of her knees, willing her to answer him.

“Be quick about it,” she finally relented.

Astarion wasted no time. He turned her around and pushed her onto her bedroll, tugging at the waistband of her pants, shimmying them over her knees. He fingered at the sides of her underwear, leaning down to kiss the top of her navel. Tav’s insides fluttered from the sensation of him peppering her from top to bottom. His nose pressed against the dampness of the fabric and she nearly blacked out of embarrassment from the deep inhale he took.

“You smell intoxicating,” Astarion groaned. “Like the very essence of temptation.” He nearly ripped her bottoms off, throwing them to the ground thoughtlessly along with her soiled rag. His cold breath tickled against her. "It's like I'm a moth drawn to a burning flame. I didn't know it was possible for you to smell even more enticing," he said, genuine bewilderment coloring his tone.

“No need to provide commentary…” Tav mumbled, averting her gaze.

Astarion pushed her legs up over his shoulders, spreading her thighs apart to reveal her slick mound. She started to drip with arousal, a stark contrast to the inky blood that painted her folds.

“Like honeyed fire, so rich and delicious it ensnared me. I felt it – tasted it – in my throat before I came anywhere near you.”

He dipped the tips of his index and middle fingers to spread her apart, dragging his tongue in one icey, long lick. The chill, a shock to her core, made her twitch as he licked her agonizingly slow from clit to tailbone. He lapped around her inner thighs, nipping at the flesh, forcing a shiver up her spine. Astarion let out a noise when she involuntarily jerked her body against his face, thighs clenching around his head. He swirled his tongue all around, his nose grazing her nub.

“Oh,” Tav moaned. Her eyes widened in alarm at the unapproved noise, as if it was an admission of weakness, but it only seemed to encourage him to tongue her faster. Biting down on her knuckle was the only way for Tav to suppress the noise that threatened to spill from her mouth as he ate her like a savage animal having its final meal. The sounds of him lapping up and down at her cunt was obscenely erotic, and she felt herself dripping another gush of blood and arousal into his mouth. He slid his tongue as far as he could inside her slit, attempting to clean her inner walls from the nonstop trickle of blood. She felt his thumb move to her clit to stroke it in slow circles and another whine fell from her mouth.

Why didn’t he just get his fill and leave? What was the point of toying with her? Tav needed Astarion to stop, she thought foggily.

He slurped up as much as he could of her blood, then shifted his attention on her swollen clit. Her legs shook against him, threatening to drop, but he kept her up like she weighed nothing. Tav finally mustered up the courage to look down at Astarion, and he must’ve sensed it, as his blown out eyes met hers. She gasped at the sight, her slickness painting his face so beautifully her cunt practically purred in response.

“Please.”

Her desire and uncertainty tangled in that one word. She wasn’t sure what she was pleading for. For him to go? To continue?

Astarion responded with a muffled, guttural groan. Her heels dug into his shoulder blades, urging him on, while his lips locked around her clit with a hunger that left her gasping. He suckled her so desperately that his teeth brushed against her, causing her legs to unconsciously spread further, surrendering to the feeling. Tav didn’t know how long they stayed like that; with Astarion dragging his tongue through her slick folds, alternating between frenzied licks and focused suctions on her clit. Before she knew it, an intense orgasm washed over her, prompting a bite on her own fingers to stop her from keening. She yelped when she broke skin and her fingers shot to his curls as her sex throbbed. But Astarion didn’t stop – he had gone back to tasting her in lazy, drawn out strokes.

“It’s sinful,” he muttered against her flushed skin. “It's divine.”

Tav pulled at his hair, hoping he would come off from her, hoping he would leave then. “You’ve not had your fill?” she croaked.

“I would lay here drinking from you all night until I fell asleep, if I had my way. ”

She watched him lick the inner corners of her thighs, fangs grazing against her flesh, threatening to bite down. Astarion moved up, trailing kisses under her belly button, then maneuvered her legs around his hips. His hands slid up her sides, scrunching Tav’s top up to show just a hint of her breasts, nipples hardened against the sheer fabric. He pulled away, baring a sharp smile, hair disheveled, teeth smeared with her blood, then pressed his clothed cock against her. “You can stop your little charade now.”

Before Tav could reply, he caught her lips in a deep kiss, rutting against her in his strained pants. The comedown from her orgasm had caught her with dull inhibitions as she couldn’t help but return the kiss, tasting her fluids on her tongue, coppery and vaguely salty. Tav couldn’t say she shared his sentiment regarding her blood, but she didn’t pull away, brain spiked with his tongue in her mouth.

“Let me love you,” Astarion whispered tenderly.

Tav suddenly jolted, breaking out of her spell. She pushed at his chest, her body straightening like a lance. She seethed with frustration. “Get off.”

He stiffened, pulling away to meet her glare. “Did I do something wrong, my sweet?”

“Enough with the fucking pet names,” she practically spat. “You don’t owe me. You don’t have to pretend to want me. I didn’t lie when I said I wanted to help you, so don’t lie to me and recite sonnets and play pretend lover. ”

He peeled himself from her, and for once, Astarion didn't respond with a quip or a sly remark.

“I… see. I didn't mean to upset you.”

Her expression softened, though she couldn't help but feel that if Astarion had wanted to pursue it, he would make a great actor. But Tav didn’t want to put herself through a show, no matter how much she had wanted to watch it.

Tav sighed, her throat feeling parched as she spoke. "It's alright," she murmured, avoiding his gaze while she reached for her pants. “You know, sometimes, people just want to help you. Because they care about you, and they don’t expect anything back.”

“Everybody wants something.” Astarion remarked.

“You’re right,” Tav acknowledged quietly, nestling herself in her bedroll and turning over. “I want to get some sleep. Good night, Astarion.”

Halsin's warning about the Shadow Cursed Lands had been clear: it would be a wasteland where even the animals would be too ghoulish for Astarion to feed on.

So for the rest of their journey towards Gymforge and beyond, Astarion gorged himself on as many creatures as he could. Bats, cave goats, owls, giant lizards – everything was fair game. He even contemplated the bulette at one point, but it smelled awful. He drank from anything and everything that moved, all in an effort to stave off the need to ask Tav for her blood. He didn't want to risk upsetting her again. Astarion was still a wanted man, and as long as she tolerated him, he was safe from Cazador.

Though he was satiated on animal blood, it was like eating plain porridge multiple times a day—nourishment, yes, but completely devoid of pleasure. But that was fine; Astarion didn’t want to grow used to Tav, he was disturbed by the way his body reacted everytime he fed on her.

After the last feeding, he left for his tent with an aching cock. He had tried to will it away, but Astarion had felt too drunk on delirious bloodlust. Back in his bed, he tugged at himself feverishly, in need of the release that was denied to him. Her smell, taste, body – everything, everything about Tav made him throb with desire. It was only logical, a primal urge, nothing more than that. He had, after all, succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh in the past, no matter how unwilling.

He understood all too well that the body could respond even when the mind wasn't fully present.

And yet, Astarion remained restless at night. When they all retired to their beds, his mind inevitably turned to think of her. He couldn’t shake the memory of how she ran hot against his bone cold body, hugging him like a furnace. His longing for her went beyond the hunger for her blood, and that realization left him uneasy, causing him to distance himself even more from her. However, he stole glances at her from time to time. Sometimes it happened when they gathered around the campfire for supper, sharing plans and stories. Astarion was particularly drawn to her smile, so sweet that her eyes wrinkled at the corners. He couldn't ignore the knot that twisted in his stomach when he saw her smile for anyone else.

"What will everyone do when this is all over?" Tav asked on one of the rare evenings when everyone remained awake.

“Whatever Lady Shar calls for me to do,” Shadowheart answered with determination.

Lae’zel scoffed dismissively. “Chk. It’s a waste of time to ponder.”

“Well, I miss my Tara terribly,” Gale confessed sadly. “First thing I do, I would like to see her immediately.”

Karlach leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “Aw man… at least you have someone to return to!”

Wyll flashed a grin at her. "You could always join me, Karlach. We could be the Blades of the Frontiers together, dispensing justice across the land of Faerûn." He dramatically extended his arms to illustrate the vision. Karlach smiled in response. "I'll hold you to that, soldier."

"I'm afraid the grove needs a fresh start without me," Halsin admitted. "I have a feeling I'll be required elsewhere, though I'm not entirely certain where."

Tav flicked her eyes to Astarion and then looked away while she spoke. “I should hope that no matter where we end up, that we all see each other every once in a while.” She rubbed at her arms and then laughed. “Gods, I know I sound so sentimental. But I’ve grown to truly like you crazy fuckers. And it’s going to be really hard to relate to people after this.”

“You can say that again,” Wyll agreed.

Astarion hummed, raising his wine goblet with a flourish. "Don’t fret, my dear friends. I’ll host the most extravagant of parties each season in my grand, opulent palace, and you’ll all be my honored guests. I'll personally hunt you down if you fail to attend or neglect the dress code."

“Hear hear!” Karlach cheered. They clinked their glasses together and Astarion’s breath caught when he saw the corners of Tav’s lips curling up. She was smiling at him. And his cold, dead, unbeating heart felt like it had swelled up so large he thought it might burst out of his chest.

Fuck, Astarion thought.

The Last Light Inn was a welcome respite for their weary bodies. Each of them had their own rooms with real beds, and they had all ran to claim their rooms.

However, as usual, trouble had a knack for finding them. Barely an hour into their stay, they were attacked, though they did manage to defend the inn and its people. Tav sat down hours later on a barstool in the tavern, tossing a coin to a tiefling child who was doubling as the barkeep. The little one handed her a mug, only filled halfway, and she chuckled to herself.

"Guess I won't be drowning my sorrows tonight.”

She took out her journal and went over her notes. There was so much to keep in mind, so much to go over. Tav scribbled away for an hour or two, and as the common area gradually emptied with everyone retiring to their rooms, she remained absorbed in her journal until a familiar voice broke the silence. “You’re up late.” Tav looked up, finding Astarion standing at the edge of the dimly lit hallway. It had been a while since they had been in the same vicinity as each other alone, and she couldn’t help but feel nervous at the sight of him. He made strides to move towards her, stopping only to stoop down and give His Majesty a little scratch behind its ears.

"Says you," she replied. "Though... well, vampires are nocturnal, aren't they?"

"Well actually, I’ve grown to quite enjoy watching the sunrise." Astarion said as he grabbed a cup from behind the counter. “Can’t wait to get out of this wretched place. I’m afraid the real reason I’m still up is a bit more mundane—I'm feeling a bit on edge."

He dipped the mug into a barrel of wine and raised an eyebrow at her disapproving look. "What? Free ale is the least we deserve for saving this sorry little inn from destruction."

Tav couldn't argue with that. She scooted over on her stool to make room for Astarion, and he joined her without a word. Astarion drank and she wrote in her book and they didn’t say anything to each other; it was a comfortable silence, one they both needed. After a while, Tav couldn't stifle a yawn, her eyes bleary from exhaustion.

"If you yawn any more, I'm going to have to toss you into your room," Astarion remarked dryly, his fingers curled around his fourth glass of wine. "You should get some rest."

She looked at him and noticed his cheeks were gaunt. There was no luster to his appearance, and he appeared more tired than she felt on the inside, likely due to a lack of nourishment. Tav had been waiting for him to ask to feed ever since they stepped foot into these cursed lands, but he never sought her out. There were no animals out in these lands, and most of the people they killed were tainted. Unless one of the others felt like offering, he was short on fuel. Astarion was probably starving, and that’s why he was restless.

Maybe she had been too harsh with him. Tav had been the one to offer blood in the first place, and then she had to go and make things awkward with her outburst. A pang of guilt washed over her.

“You too,” Tav replied. “You honestly look a little awful.” He tensed at the comment and she hurried to add: “You’re hungry. When was the last time you ate?”

With a subtle lick of his lips, Astarion brushed off her concern. “I'm perfectly fine. I'll feast on some True Souls once we reach Moonrise, and you'll see, I'll be right as rain.”

"You're obviously not fine, Astarion," Tav insisted. "I'm not a stranger. I know you."

His eyes searched hers like he was looking for something, a certain melancholy to them that she couldn’t parse out. Then the look vanished, replaced by an empty expression.

“I don’t think you do.”

She almost believed a few times he cared for her, in his own way. But it was clear now that her original instinct had been correct: it really had been a game for him, and now Astarion was so bored of her, he’d rather starve. Tav knew that if she were smart, she would feel relieved that he no longer wanted to use her, that he had backed off. But all she felt was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Astarion still grieved for his past life, but any memories of family, lovers, or friends remained lost to him. At times, he preferred it that way. Ignorance, after all, had its virtues. Caring for others meant extending a piece of yourself to them, one you often couldn’t get back, and that was a risk he didn’t want to take. Not when he so desperately needed to care for himself. What was so bad about being selfish, he wondered. Astarion couldn't afford to put himself second, not after everything he had been through.

He had come into this world alone, suffered alone, and he would depart this earthly realm alone.

The second night at the inn, Halsin had gone to find Thaniel, leaving the rest of them to defend his portal while they awaited his return. They hadn't expected the overwhelming forces drawn to destroy it. Wave after wave of undead assailants descended upon them, and they found themselves severely outnumbered.

Tav, determined to protect the portal, was casting a wall of stone when a wraith suddenly teleported and slashed at her, breaking her concentration. Her cry pierced the chaotic battle, and Astarion whipped around at the sound. She crumpled to the ground, clutching her stomach in agony.

"No, no, Tav! Get up, damn you!" Astarion shouted. Without hesitation, he lunged forward with his daggers and tore into the wraith until it dissipated into a shadow of smoke.

"The portal—" Tav choked out, blood spluttering from her throat. He knelt down and pulled her up against him.

“Fuck the portal,” Astarion grit his teeth. “Shadowheart!”

Shadowheart, engrossed in protecting Karlach and Lae'zel from cursed Harpers trying to break through, couldn't hear him. He yelled for Shadowheart again, but her attention remained focused on the women. Tav had made a promise to Halsin to keep the portal open, and the others were determined to honor that promise. Astarion cursed them all.

As he looked down at Tav, he saw her eyes dimming, her hand outstretched towards the portal.

She mouthed, "Halsin."

The druid had come back with the child.

Astarion would’ve turned back time and seen Halsin dead and the Shadow-Cursed lands forever damned if it meant that he would never again have to feel the fear that struck his heart when Tav went slack in his arms.

“She’ll be alright,” Shadowheart assured, the back of her palm against Tav’s forehead, feeling for her temperature. “She just needs some rest.”

Astarion had been pacing at the end of Tav's bed, unable to leave her side since their return to the inn. "How long?”

“Can’t say. Maybe a few hours.” Shadowheart put the rest of her scrolls and potions away into her bag. “She’s tougher than she looks, Astarion. Don’t worry too much.”

“I’m not worried,” Astarion huffed, fixing his face to a smooth nonchalance. “But… I’ll stay here with her. Just in case. You should get to bed. You know, vampire and all, we're creatures of the night and whatnot.”

Shadowheart gave him a knowing look before she left. “Let me know if she still feels poorly.”

Astarion quietly pulled a chair closer to Tav's bedside, taking care not to stir her. As he sat there, he wondered what he would say when she woke up. He hadn't planned beyond his initial rush into her room. Hours passed, marked by the gentle rise and fall of her breathing and he never got up from his seat. The exhaustion of the day slowly overcame him and though he tried to fight it, Astarion drifted off into a trance.

Tav woke up after some time, groggy and disoriented. After she checked her body and found nothing out of place, she blinked a few times, surprised to find Astarion sitting nearby.

“No,” Astarion mumbled, his fingers gripping the armrest of his chair. “No. I'll never come back.”

In his nightmares, Cazador taunted him — to his master, he was akin to a mere child who had simply gotten carried away with the infantile joys of freedom. His relentless pursuit haunted him through the forest, and no matter how far into the void Astarion ran, he could still hear him. Oh, how foolish of him to dream of a life that was his own — he would never escape. No matter how far he fled, Cazador would inevitably find him...

"Please, no, Master —" he cried out.

Tav reached her hand out to gently cover one of his. "Astarion," she said, her voice soft and soothing, despite her sore throat.

His eyes fluttered open, the rims around them inflamed, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Cazador," he sputtered, still caught in the grip of his night terrors.

"You're safe. He's not here," she reassured him, trying to withdraw her hand, but he held it firmly. "You were having a bad dream."

Astarion nodded. “Yes.” His eyes closed as took a deep inhale, calming himself from the remnants of his nightmare. “I didn’t intend to wake you.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I woke up on my own.” Tav replied, her expression equally laced with concern and suspicion. “Um. Is something wrong? What are you doing here?”

Astarion was quick with his answer. He didn’t want to tell her that, no, actually, he had gone sick with worry and had practically barked at everyone to clear the way as he rushed into the inn with her injured body. “Everything is fine. We just wanted to make sure you were alright. Everyone else is asleep right now.”

“I should’ve been more aware of my surroundings,” Tav frowned apologetically. “I didn’t mean to worry you all. But Halsin came back with Thaniel, didn’t he?”

He scowled, recalling how his forehead vein nearly burst when Halsin confirmed that Thaniel was of no use until they located his missing half. "I could've strangled Halsin for taking as long as he did. All for some comatose child."

Her eyes bore into him. “I would’ve gone through the pain a thousand more times to help Halsin cure this land. You can’t blame him for anything.”

Tav was light and goodness and hope and everything Astarion was not and he wanted to throttle her and tell her that this miserable, revolting world didn’t deserve her.

“I can, and I will. But thankfully, you’re okay. No need for anyone’s head to roll.”

“Ugh. You are so dramatic,” she laughed, her hand splaying under him. His finger rubbed a circle on the back of her palm. Then she paused, and they stared at each other, and Astarion almost shrank from the intensity of her gaze. “I appreciate you watching over me. I’m good, really. I can take it from here. You can go now.”

“If that’s what you want,” he replied.

”I…” She hesitated, her eyes shifting slowly between his, searching for something in them. "What do you want?"

Tav had asked Astarion this question once before, and he had delivered his answer, every word rehearsed and refined countless times with various people.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he confessed. His eyebrows furrowed as he pushed himself to continue. "I… want to free myself from my constant thoughts of you.”

An unfamiliar tightness gripped his throat. Astarion had always thought of her softness as a horrible weakness, but now, with Tav before him, he understood that to be soft was a terribly difficult thing to do.

“I want…” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “... to kiss you.”

Tav echoed his previous response.

"Well, if that's what you want."

He was careful, the way he rose to caress her cheek, and agonizingly slow as her lips parted and his cold thumb brushed against them. Astarion closed the gap and pressed a kiss on her, so gentle he thought he only imagined doing it. He tilted her head up, the kiss deepening with a swift graduation of intensity that made Tav cling to him as if he were the only solid thing in her dizzying world.

This was different, Astarion marveled — this felt like undeniable need.

“I can’t summon up any clever words,” Astarion breathed against her lips. “Just that I want you.”

“Then shut up for once and have me.” She twined her arms around his neck and his tongue glided past her lips to taste her, eliciting a sound from her that redirected all the blood in Astarion’s body in a sweet rush. Every movement of her lips sent a jolt through his body, fanning the blaze that was shared back and forth between them.

How maddening was it, that one second Astarion was afraid to falter, and the next she reduced him to desperation.

He devoured her with tongue and teeth, pushing her back into the mattress, only stopping when it felt like they would die from lack of oxygen. Astarion broke away from her embrace, peeled his shirt off and hurled it to the ground, then tugged at her pants; she clumsily arched herself up to help him strip her clothes off. Next was her top, then her underwear; his eyes swept over her, committing every detail and every curve to memory.

“You, my little dove, truly are a vision.”

Tav laughed with embarrassment, but her laughter dissolved into a moan as Astarion's lips met hers. She kissed him like she was untangling him, and he kissed her like he wanted to own her from the inside out. Then she gasped, the sound shooting straight to his cock. “I’ve wanted you. Everytime. But I was scared.”

He groaned and released her from his mouth, then captured her lips in his again. Astarion had never wanted so hopelessly to see someone come undone under him.

“I know darling. I’m always right,” he chuckled against her lips, the arrogance hiding the relief he felt. She tsked at him and his fingers gently wrapped over her throat, as the other hand thumbed at her lips. “I’m jealous of your neck,” he mused. “It gets to hold your lovely head up, when it could be my hands instead.”

It was sickening, Astarion thought, how unbelievably, excruciatingly hard he was, and he had barely even touched her. Tav watched him curiously, her eyes raking over his body with lust. “I want to taste you,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Let me.”

“Not tonight,” he said simply, wanting nothing more than to see her pretty lips wrap around his cock and to see her struggle for air. But he’d be lying if the simple act of denying her didn’t turn him on. Astarion prodded at her lips with his fingers, knocking at her teeth, slipping two into her mouth. “You can work for that.”

She opened her mouth without further complaint. He pressed down on her tongue and she sucked as he slowly twisted his fingers around. Astarion lowered a trail of kisses down her face, peppering her jaw, neck, collarbones, the dip between her breasts. Then, he took his spit slicked fingers out with a plop, saliva trailing out from her lips, before moving down to spread open her wet folds. Tav was dripping with arousal, eyes fluttering in anticipation of pleasure, and Astarion thought he’d like to keep her like this forever. He pinched at her clit then rubbed firm and slow; her hips twitched against him, silently asking for him to go faster, harder, anything, to make her cum.

But Astarion wasn’t going to let her, he had never intended to let her cum – at least not yet, it was too soon, not when he wanted to unravel her more.

“Get on your knees for me, darling.”

Tav had no choice but to roll over and prop herself up on her elbows. She looked back at him, her eyes glassy with frustration. He could barely hold himself together to whisper sweet nothings into her back, something that had been so vile to do before and so easy to do now. Astarion ached to have her: anywhere, in every position, in every possible way, to mark her and make it so that everyone would know that Tav was his to have.

He tried to shake away the obsessive thought but it burned through him so deeply that it nearly pushed Astarion to rage. His kisses dragged lower and lower until his hands squeezed at the undersides of her ass. Astarion spread her thighs apart and opened her up like ripe fruit with his thumbs, watching her drool drip down her folds. He lapped his tongue up from her glistening folds to her rim and Tav’s knees buckled under the sensation.

Astarion wasn’t just eating her out, he was tonguefucking her; he delved deeper, groaning against her as she pushed back into his face and her musk clouded his mind. The taste of her constant, dripping wetness was intoxicating, second only to her life-giving blood. It threatened to drown Astarion, like a violent wave crashing at the shore of his senses.

He snaked in and out of her puckered hole, back to her cunt, everything growing slick and sloppy and sensitive, wet sounds mixing with moans spilling from both of them. The contrast of the cold of his tongue and the hotness of her cunt was exquisite, and he thought Tav deserved the gift of his fingers again. His index and middle fingers slid through to part the lips of her sticky cunt, then disappeared, quickly thrusting in and out of her.

“I need–” She made a strangled sound before she buried her face into her pillow, not wanting to make any more noise should the rooms next door hear. Then, she nearly sobbed at the sudden loss of his lips against her, though his fingers were still deep at her base. He reached forward to tug at her hair abruptly, bringing her head up from the bed.

“You need what?” Astarion feigned ignorance, not slowing down the pace of his fingers fucking in and out of her. Tav reached down with her hand to press against her clit, grinding her palm flat against her pubic bone. She humped against her hand and back into his fingers, again and again until he released her hair and snatched her hand and held it against her back as he buried a third finger into her cunt.

“Fuck, Astarion.”

The way Tav cried out his name made Astarion want to drag this out, to deny her the way she had done to him for so many weeks. Until she was a sobbing, pleading, pathetic mess. He pressed a wet kiss against her cunt and barely held back a wicked smile when she shook as his fingers curled, pulling and pushing in her.

“Sorry pet, I can’t hear you.”

“Fucking...“ Tav grit her teeth, her temper rising when she realized he was playing with her. “All this time you've been accosting me and now you want to tease?"

"Little known fact about me, I'm actually hard of hearing in one ear," he lied, pushing a fourth finger into her squelching cunt. Tav pushed her face into the pillow and groaned in frustration, before picking her head back up, choking out the words.

"Astarion, I need you to fuck me."

“Oh,” he replied, like the answer hadn’t been so obvious. “All you had to do was use your words.”

He withdrew his fingers from her. Tav strained her head to see him tugging his pants down, cock springing out, beautiful and veiny, precum leaking and turned on to the point of agony. Astarion gave himself one firm stroke from root to tip and back. She bumped against him, but he pushed her back down and dragged the tip through her cunt.

“So wet.” He slid the head between her slick folds, rubbing up to her clit, and back down. Again and again, each time dipping closer to where she needed him most in a torturously unhurried pace. “You’re always so wet for me, aren’t you, my sweet?”

She moaned an agreement into the bed and ground herself against him, hard enough that Astarion felt relief all around his painfully erect cock. It was truly difficult to stop himself from fucking her deep into the mattress, but the novelty of how much he enjoyed seeing her squirm under him was too new, too enthralling.

“Looks like you enjoy the pet names after all.”

“Astarion,” Tav cried, rutting desperately on his cock. She looked like she would either break down in tears or hit him. He thought he would enjoy either option.

Astarion flipped her over on her back and summoned the best of his self control to kick off his pants. Then he kissed her deeply and pushed in, slowly, stretching her out; mesmerized by the needy look on her face and the way her lips parted in a gasp. He wanted to savor this, to paint a picture in his mind to look back on in case it never happened again, but it only lasted a few seconds before Tav wrapped her legs around his waist, willing more of him into her.

“Tav,” Astarion stuttered, grabbing hold of her hips roughly. “Cheeky little pup — so desperate.”

He slowly dragged out of her until only the tip of his cock was left, holding her legs apart so he could admire the view of her taking the entirety of his length as he pushed back in leisurely.

“Astarion, fuck me, please, I can’t breathe until you do.”

Would he ever tire of his name being used like a prayer? Astarion growled in response, pulling and burying himself at the hilt of her cunt. Then he fucked her faster - the pace brutal and unrelenting - and her walls clenched so tight around him that it hurt, a smooth and velvety pain along his cock. When Tav’s eyes rolled back he freed a hand to grab her throat, forcing her to look at him.

“I would tear myself open limb from limb if you could only see the mess you’ve made of me,” he panted.

Tav choked around his fingers, unable to reply, eyes wide in disbelief; Astarion released her throat to grip the back of her thighs and pin her knees to her chest with bruising strength. He lost himself, he didn’t stop moving, didn’t let up. Fucking her felt both sacred and like sacrilege, like being eviscerated by divine rapture, like something he simply didn’t deserve. He would have chained himself down at her altar and would've ripped through his own ribcage with his bare hands to offer his lungs as sacrifice if that's what she demanded.

“Yes, it’s so good, Astarion—” Tav babbled incoherently under him, her breasts jiggling with each thrust. “You’re so good. So fucking good.”

Astarion lurched forward with a groan and buried his face into her juncture between her neck and shoulder, inhaling sharply as his nose nudged at her fading wound. It was wholly unnatural to resist biting her, but he did. He wasn’t good, he had probably never been good in any lifetime. But he wanted to be – would try to be – if that’s what she wanted. Astarion fucked her to the ragged rhythm of his name, hard and deep and devastating, hissing everytime her walls flexed and gripped around him.

“Bite me,” Tav begged, her arms sliding around him, one slipping into his hair and the other clawing at the scarred skin of his back. “You don’t have to ask. Never.”

Astarion wavered, but only for a second. His teeth dragged over her skin like the point of a knife and she leaned into it, the pounding of her heart echoing in Astarion’s ears. Tav let out a needy pant of encouragement when he sank in, nothing careful or gentle about his bite. Hot pulsing blood rushed into his mouth; it poured into every vein in his body, exploding everywhere at once.

Tav thrashed under him, threading her fingers through his curls and holding him in place. He drank and sucked until the skin underneath him spurted so much blood that it spilled out past the corners of his mouth, drenching their chests as they rocked against each other. He dragged a finger through the rain of blood and when it was coated he smeared it on her swollen clit, working frenzied, clumsy circles on it. His arm grew tense with the speed and intensity of it but he didn’t stop. Tav’s sopping wet cunt sucked him in messily in the silence and a dark satisfaction curled through Astarion’s gut, knowing that it was impossible to not hear them throughout the inn.

“You’ll be my undoing,” he told her, less of a statement and more of a promise. Astarion kissed her through the film of blood that coated the inside of his mouth, wet and metallic and sweet. He groaned when she licked the taste of her off his lips and he fucked into her like an animal, spurred on by the cries she tried and failed to stifle. When Tav came, she clamped down so blindingly tight on Astarion’s cock that an orgasm ripped from his body forcefully, shooting through him and spilling into her as deeply as her cunt would allow.

"You'll stay here?" Tav's words were a barely audible request, masked as a question. The persistent voice that had carved out an unwelcome home in his brain urged him to get up and leave. But Tav curled around him like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he couldn’t find the strength to listen.

Maybe she would ruin him. Maybe they’d consume each other. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning and pretend tonight never happened. Or maybe some things just burned brighter in the wake of destruction. Astarion was drawn to the fire now, even if it meant risking his wings.

Astarion pressed a gentle kiss to her damp forehead and drew her closer to his chest. Tav hummed a satisfied sigh, the heat from her body radiating and wrapping him like the thickest blanket in the dead of winter. In that fleeting moment, he wondered if there was a way to bottle her warmth and tuck it away for his loneliest hours.

He chose to settle for a simple truth.

“Yes.”

2K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 9 months

Text

Another Man’s Treasure

Max Verstappen x Reader + Charles Leclerc x ex!Reader

Summary: Charles made the worst mistake of his life when he threw away his relationship with you. Max … well he’s learned to take advantage of others’ mistakes both on and off the track

Warnings: cheating (not the main pairing) and pregnancy

“Please, Charles, why can’t we just talk about it?” you implore, the two of you standing on the balcony overlooking the glimmering lights of Monaco. The city shines brilliantly but your eyes are clouded with frustration and disappointment.

Charles exhales deeply, his jaw clenched as he avoids your gaze. The silver lining of the night —the glimmer of stars overhead — contrasts sharply with the tension between you two. “I told you already, it’s not the right time.

You take a shaky breath, trying to hold back tears. “Every time I bring up having children, you just push it away. Why can’t you see how much this means to me?”

Charles runs his fingers through his dark hair, exhaling slowly. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want to have a family with you someday,” he begins, his gaze distant. “But right now, with my career at its peak, I can’t risk distractions.”

“Distractions?” Your voice breaks, the hurt evident in your tone. “Our children would be a distraction?”

He flinches, clearly not expecting that response. “That’s not what I meant. I just … I need to focus on the championship. The pressure is immense. Racing is my life. Ferrari is my life.”

“I understand your dedication to your career, but ...” You pause, your gaze searching his. “Don’t you think we can find a balance? Am I not part of your life too?”

He looks at you, those hypnotizing eyes you’ve always loved flinching away from yours after no more than a second. “I wish I knew how,” he murmurs. “But every time I think of the late nights, the early mornings, the endless travels ... I’m afraid I won’t be there for our children.”

You reach out, holding his face in your hands. “We can figure it out together. But not if you keep shutting me out.”

Charles leans into your touch for a brief moment, his warmth radiating under your fingers. But then he pulls away, taking a deep breath. “I just need time,” he whispers.

“You always say that,” you reply, voice almost inaudible. The weight of the situation presses down on you both. The future, once so clear and bright, is now clouded in uncertainty.

But one thing is clear to you. You love Charles Leclerc. Despite the pain, the hurt, and the disagreements, you still believe that one day, you’ll both find common ground. So, you nod, taking his hand. “Alright, I’ll give you time. But please, don’t take too long.”

He looks at you with a mixture of gratitude and guilt. “Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

But deep inside, a gnawing feeling of dread starts to grow, leaving you wondering if you’ve made the right choice.

***

The soft hum of the espresso machine at your favorite café in Monaco is the only thing that brings comfort these days. You take a deep breath, trying to enjoy the momentary solace as you sip on your coffee. But today, the calm is quickly disrupted by the muted buzz of your phone.

An unknown number flashes across the screen. Hesitating for only a moment, you decide to pick up. “Hello?”

A hesitant voice responds, “Is this ... is this you? I’ve seen you with Charles.”

Confused and on guard, you ask, “Who is this?”

The voice falters, “It’s Elise.”

You wrack your brain, trying to figure out who she might be. But before you can respond, Elise continues, “I think we need to meet. There’s something you should know.”

Agreeing to meet up, you find yourself waiting at the edge of the Fontvieille Park, the minutes feeling like hours as you try to decipher what could be so important.

Elise finally arrives, her demeanor nervous, eyes darting around. She’s visibly pregnant.

“I didn’t know how to tell you this,” she begins, looking down at her swollen belly, then up to your eyes, searching for understanding. “This is Charles’ child.”

The world seems to spin, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “What? How? Why?” The questions blur together, each one as painful as the last.

Elise sighs, taking a moment before she speaks, “We’ve been seeing each other for a while. I thought he loved me ... but then I found out about you.”

You’re at a loss for words, feeling a mix of betrayal, anger, and pain more complex than you can describe. The very foundation of your relationship with Charles feels like it’s crumbling beneath you. “He said he wasn’t ready for children,” you whisper, more to yourself than to Elise.

Elise looks genuinely pained. “I didn’t know. If I had, I would’ve never—” she stops herself, tears forming. “I’m so sorry. I thought you deserved to know the truth.”

The rest of the conversation is a blur. Elise shares her story, and you listen, trying to reconcile this new reality. The Charles she describes isn’t the man you thought you knew.

By the time you part ways, the Monaco sunset paints the sky in shades of gold and purple. But its beauty does little to lift the darkness that has settled over your heart. Charles had been unfaithful, and now a child — a constant reminder of his betrayal — was on the way.

***

With every step you take towards the apartment you share with Charles, your emotions churn and crash like tumultuous waves. You have practiced the confrontation in your mind countless times, yet as you reach the door, your hands tremble. Taking a moment to gather your courage, you push it open.

Inside, Charles looks up from the couch, surprised. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you back so soon,” he starts, attempting a smile but his eyes give away a hint of nervousness. Perhaps he senses the storm brewing.

“We need to talk,” you say, your voice firm despite the turmoil inside.

Charles swallows hard, pushing himself up to stand. “About?”

“Elise,” you state simply, watching as his face pales.

He hesitates, and for a moment, you hope for an ounce of remorse, a hint of regret. But when he speaks, his words are cold and detached. “How did you find out?”

“Does it matter?” You shoot back, trying to hold back tears. “Is it true?”

Charles avoids your gaze, running a hand through his hair. “Yes,” he finally admits.

“And the baby? Is it yours?”

Again, he hesitates but then nods. “Yes.”

The weight of the revelation feels like a physical blow, and you stagger back slightly, gripping the back of a chair for support. “All those times … when you said you weren’t ready, that it wasn’t the right time …” Your voice cracks, pain and betrayal evident in every word.

Charles finally meets your gaze but there’s no warmth, no apology in his eyes. “I didn’t plan this,” he says but it’s not a justification, merely a statement.

“That’s supposed to make it better?” you scoff, voice rising in disbelief.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture you recognize as one of discomfort. “I never wanted to hurt you. But things just ... happened.”

“You think that justifies anything? Things just happened?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I gave up so much for us, Charles. I moved away from everything and everyone I knew to be with you. And you threw it all away like it’s nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs but his apology feels hollow. His eyes betray the truth.

The room is thick with tension and heartbreak. The man you loved, the life you envisioned — both seem like illusions now. You didn’t even know if they were ever real.

“You know what?” You say, a new determination rising within. “I deserve better. I deserve someone who truly values and respects me.” With that, you turn, making your way to the bedroom to pack a few essentials.

Charles doesn’t stop you. And that, more than anything, cements the truth. Your future lies elsewhere. The chapter with Charles is closed.

***

Rain begins to drizzle over Monaco, each droplet reflecting the city’s luminescence. With a bag slung over your shoulder and a broken heart, you wander aimlessly. The streets that once felt like home now seem foreign and cold.

As the rain intensifies, you duck under an awning, the gentle hum of a nearby bar providing a temporary reprieve. You’re lost in thought when a familiar voice breaks through, “Is everything okay? You look a bit ... lost.”

You look up, surprised to find Max Verstappen looking genuinely concerned. His bright blue eyes study your face, searching for an answer.

“Max ...” Your voice trails off, unsure of how much to reveal.

He gestures to the bar beside you. “Want to come in? We can talk or not. Up to you.”

Gratefully, you nod, and the two of you find a quiet corner. The dim lighting offers a cocoon of privacy, away from prying eyes.

Over a glass of wine, words start to tumble out. The betrayal, the heartbreak, the uncertainty of the future. Max listens intently, his gaze never leaving yours. His silence offers a comforting presence, allowing you to unburden your heavy heart.

“I can’t believe Charles would do that to you,” Max says after you finish your story, his voice laced with anger. “You deserve so much better.”

A tear slips down your cheek. “I thought we had something special. But I guess I was just naive. And stupid. So stupid.”

Max reaches out, gently wiping away the tear with his thumb. “No. He was the fool for not seeing what a treasure he had.”

The evening wears on and you find solace in Max’s company. The conversation shifts from heartbreak to hopes and dreams. He opens up about his childhood, the pressures of racing, and his aspirations for a family — one where he could offer his children a better upbringing than he had.

The connection between you two grows, the raw vulnerability drawing you closer than you could have ever anticipated over just a few hours.

“It’s getting late,” Max observes, glancing at his watch. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

You hesitate, realizing you hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I ... I hadn’t planned anything.”

Max looks thoughtful for a moment then says, “I have a penthouse not far from here. You’re more than welcome to stay. No expectations, just a place to rest.”

Gratitude swells within you. “Thank you, Max. I really appreciate that.”

The two of you leave the bar together, the rain now a soft drizzle. As you make your way to his place, the weight of the day begins to lift, replaced by an unexpected feeling of hope. You couldn’t have predicted this turn of events but perhaps, just maybe, the universe has a plan for you.

***

The penthouse apartment is a sanctuary, perched high above the city’s twinkling lights. The soft glow of lamps bathes the room in warmth, contrasting with the coolness of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that offer an unobstructed view of Monaco’s beauty.

Max hands you a plush robe and gestures toward the bathroom. “Feel free to freshen up. I’ll make us some tea.”

You nod, grateful for his understanding and hospitality. The hot shower washes away the day’s troubles, and when you emerge, wrapped in the robe, you find Max in the sleek kitchen area, preparing mugs of tea.

“Here you go,” he says, handing you a steaming cup. “Chamomile. Good for relaxation.”

You take a sip, the warm liquid soothing your frayed nerves. “Thank you, Max. For everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you tonight.”

He smiles gently, his eyes meeting yours. “Sometimes, unexpected moments bring people together for a reason.”

The two of you settle onto a surprisingly comfortable leather couch, gazing out at the night sky. Silence envelops you but it’s a comfortable one.

“You know, I never expected to connect with someone like this,” Max says, his voice soft. “Especially not after what you’ve been through.”

You look at him, seeing a depth of sincerity that surprises you. “It’s been a strange and difficult day,” you admit. “But talking to you, it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

Max’s gaze holds yours, and for a moment, it feels like the universe has conspired to bring you to this very place, to this very person.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve always wanted a big family. A loving home, something I didn’t really have growing up. I want to give my kids the stability and happiness I never had.”

Tears well up in your eyes, touched by his vulnerability and his willingness to share his dreams with you. “That’s a beautiful aspiration.”

He shifts closer, a comforting hand on your shoulder. “And what about you? What do you dream of?”

You lean back, contemplating the question. “I dream of a family too, a partner who’s truly invested, children who grow up knowing they’re loved and supported.”

Max's fingers brush against yours, a gentle touch that sends a shiver down your spine. “You deserve that. You deserve to find happiness.”

As the night deepens, the emotional intimacy between you grows. There’s an unspoken understanding, a shared connection, and for the first time in a long while, you feel a glimmer of hope for the future. The chapter with Charles might be closed, but perhaps, with Max, you can start to write a new one — one filled with shared dreams and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

***

The morning sun casts a golden glow over Monaco as it begins its ascent into the azure sky. You wake up, wrapped in the softest sheets you’ve ever felt, with memories of last night’s conversation playing on a loop in your mind.

Exiting the bedroom, you find Max in the open-plan kitchen, whipping up a breakfast spread. “Good morning,” he greets with a warm smile. “I hope you’re hungry.”

As you eat, Max discusses his plans for the day, mentioning an upcoming summer break in the F1 calendar. “A few friends and I have organized a yacht trip during the summer shutdown. It’s a tradition,” he explains. “A way to escape and recharge.”

You nod, picturing the glittering sea and warm beaches. “That sounds wonderful.”

He hesitates for a moment, then, as if taking a leap, says, “Why don’t you join us? It could be a good distraction. Get away from all this ... chaos.”

The offer catches you by surprise. The prospect of a holiday is tempting, especially after the emotional whirlwind of the past few days. Plus, the idea of spending more time with Max, getting to know him outside the confines of Monaco, is equally appealing.

After a moment’s contemplation, you reply, “You know what? I think I will. Thank you so much.”

The days leading up to the trip are a blur, filled with shopping for swimsuits and sundresses and a growing sense of anticipation.

When the day finally arrives, you find yourself aboard a lavish yacht, surrounded by Max’s close friends. Laughter and conversations flow easily, the crystal-clear waters providing the perfect backdrop.

As the yacht sets sail, you and Max find a secluded spot on the deck. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. The two of you talk, laugh, and occasionally, just sit in silence, enjoying the tranquillity of the moment.

During a sun-soaked afternoon, Max teaches you how to steer the yacht. Your fingers brush against each other, and there are shared glances, stolen moments, and an electric charge between you that’s impossible to ignore.

Each day deepens the growing bond between you. There are sunrises watched from the deck, dinners under the stars, and long conversations that last into the early hours of the morning.

One night, as the yacht anchors near a secluded cove, Max takes your hand, leading you to a quiet spot. The moonlight dances on the water, creating a magical atmosphere.

“You know,” he begins, his voice soft, “this trip has been special. Not because of the destinations but because of the company.”

You smile, leaning into him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

A tender moment passes between you, one filled with promise and the potential for something more. The yacht trip might be coming to an end but both of you sense that this journey, this new chapter in your lives, has only just begun.

***

The gentle lull of the waves against the yacht rocks you as the moon hangs low in the sky. The night air is warm and fragrant, carrying with it a sense of peace. Tomorrow, the yacht will dock back in Monaco and reality will catch up with you once more. But for now, you’re content to savor these final moments of the trip.

You find Max leaning against the railing, gazing out at the sea. As you approach him, he turns, his expression softening into a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply, standing beside him, your shoulders brushing against each other.

“I can’t believe the break is almost over,” Max muses, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness.

You nod in agreement, casting your gaze out to the horizon. “It still feels like a dream.”

Max glances at you, his eyes holding a certain intensity. “You know, I’ve had an amazing time with you.”

A flutter of warmth ignites in your chest at his words. “Me too. The best time.”

The moment is charged with unspoken feelings, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing day. Max’s fingers brush against yours and the touch sends a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t want this to end,” he confesses, gaze never leaving yours.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing. “I’ve never felt so connected to someone, so understood.”

He cups your cheek with his hand, his touch tender and affectionate. “I feel the same way. And I don’t want this to end.”

The tension in the air is palpable, heavy with anticipation and longing. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, your lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s a kiss filled with all the emotions that have been building between you, a kiss that bridges the gap between friendship and something more.

As the kiss deepens, Max’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you under the moonlit sky.

When you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest against each other, your breaths mingling. Max’s voice is a gentle murmur against your lips. “I don’t want to rush anything. But I also don’t want to pretend that this connection we have isn’t real.”

You meet his gaze, your eyes reflecting the same sincerity. “I don’t want to pretend either. Max, I want to give this — give us — a chance.”

A genuine smile graces Max’s lips and he kisses your forehead in reassurance. “Then let’s take it one step at a time.”

***

“Where to now?” Max asks, his hand lightly touching your arm as the yacht crew busies themselves with docking procedures.

You hesitate, the reality of your situation setting in. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I … I moved here from my home country to be with Charles.”

Max looks concerned. “You can’t stay with him, not after everything.”

“No, definitely not.” You exhale deeply, feeling the weight of the situation. “I’ll figure something out. Maybe find a hotel for a few days.”

Before you can say more, Max interjects, “Stay with me.”

You look at him, a bit taken aback. “Are you sure? We’re still navigating whatever this is between us.”

He nods, his gaze steady and sincere. “I know. But I also know you shouldn’t be alone right now. You can take the guest room or,” he pauses, a hint of mischief in his eyes, “the master bedroom, if you prefer.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks at his teasing tone but his offer feels genuine. “Alright but only if you promise not to snore.”

Max chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you head off the yacht. “Deal.”

The familiarity of Max’s penthouse greets you as you step inside. It's comforting and safe, an oasis to escape the shattered memories that line the Monaco streets.

While you unpack, Max makes dinner. The two of you eat in comfortable silence, the city lights casting a soft glow through the apartment.

“Thank you for this,” you say, gesturing around the dining room, the food, the moment. “It’s more than I could’ve ever asked for.”

Max meets your gaze, his blue eyes reflecting warmth and understanding. “You’re not alone in this. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.”

The night unfolds, a sense of peace settling between you. Whether it's the soft hum of the city below or the comforting presence of Max beside you, you drift into a deep, restful sleep.

Waking up the next morning, the events of the past weeks feel like a distant memory. But the man beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, is a calming reminder of new beginnings.

With Max by your side, you feel ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead, knowing that no matter what, you’re not alone.

***

“Are you ready for the madness?” Max asks, offering you a hand as you step out of the car, the roar of the crowd at Zandvoort Circuit immediately evident.

Taking a deep breath, you nod. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of you walk hand-in-hand towards the paddock, drawing attention from fans, crew, and media alike. Whispers spread like wildfire but neither of you flinch. Together, you are a united front.

Suddenly, Charles appears from around the corner, his gaze immediately locking onto yours. “So this is the big reveal?” he asks, dripping with condensing sarcasm.

Max steps protectively in front of you. “It’s none of your business anymore.”

Charles scoffs, his eyes darting to the Red Bull VIP pass around your neck. “Jumping ship already? You always were fickle.”

Ignoring the jab, you retort, “You lost any right to an opinion about my life the second you threw away our relationship.”

Charles’ eyes flare with anger. “And you,” he snaps, turning his attention to the reigning world champion, “you think you can just swoop in—”

Max cuts him off sharply, “I think you’ve said enough.”

“You two deserve each other,” Charles hisses before storming off.

Max wraps an arm around you, his touch reassuring. “Ignore him. Today is about the race, about us. Nothing else.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. “Thank you.”

The race itself is thrilling. From Red Bull garage, you watch as Max masterfully maneuvers his car, leading the pack with unparalleled skill. Every turn, every overtake steals your breath. And when he crosses the finish line, the roar of the crowd painting the grandstands orange is deafening.

As Max emerges from his car, he’s immediately surrounded by his team, celebrating yet another victory. And then, spotting you in the crowd, he breaks away, making a beeline towards you. Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

The world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. As you pull apart, Max’s eyes shine with triumph and love. “For you,” he murmurs, holding up the trophy.

Laughing, you pull him close once more. The challenges and confrontations of the day pale in comparison to the joy of this moment. Together, you and Max are unstoppable. And as you celebrate his victory, you know that this is just the beginning of many more triumphant moments to come.

***

The familiar sounds of roaring engines, the scent of burning rubber, and the vibrant energy of the paddock have been a part of your life for years. But being around the Red Bull team feels like a different world compared to your previous experiences with Ferrari.

Christian Horner welcomes you with open arms. “It’s great to have you on board,” he says during a quiet moment in the Red Bull motorhome. “Max seems happier than he’s been in a long time.”

You smile, thinking of the nights spent laughing with Max, the whispered conversations, and reflected dreams. “I’m grateful to be here. And to be with Max.”

Helmut Marko, although initially intimidating with his sharp gaze, soon warms up to you. “Just take care of our champ,” he jokes one evening after another successful race.

As the weeks pass, the bond between you and the Red Bull team strengthens. Daniel Ricciardo becomes a close friend, often joining you and Max for dinner or movie nights. Sergio Perez, with his playful humor, keeps everyone laughing, while the mechanics and engineers teach you the deeper intricacies of the sport.

Yet, it’s not all smooth sailing. The media, always hungry for a story, constantly probes into your relationship with Max. Rumors swirl, some true, most fabricated. Yet, through it all, Max remains your anchor, always supporting and defending you.

One evening, as the two of you relax in his suite after a grueling race weekend, Max turns to you, his eyes serious. “I know this world can be intense, the scrutiny constant. But I hope you know that you’re not alone in this.”

You nod, feeling a swell of emotion. “Being with you, being part of this team, it’s incredible. Like finding a family I never knew I needed.”

Max smiles, pulling you close. “That’s because you are family. And I promise, no matter what, we’ll face everyone and everything together.”

The season progresses, and as Max inches closer to clinching the championship title once again, the excitement within the Red Bull team reaches a fever pitch. Through every high and low, every victory and setback, you stand beside Max, cheering him on.

***

“Easy there!” Christian says, catching you just as the world starts to spin and your vision blurs.

The sound of concerned voices surrounds you as you struggle to stay conscious but it’s too much. Everything goes black.

When you come to, you’re lying on a couch in Red Bull hospitality, Max’s anxious face hovering above yours. “Hey,” he murmurs, relief evident in his voice. “You scared me there.”

“What ... what happened?” you ask, your voice weak.

“You fainted,” Daniel chimes in from nearby. “We’re getting a doctor to check on you.”

True to his word, a doctor soon arrives, performing a series of tests and asking various questions. He recommends a more thorough examination and you find yourself being whisked away to a nearby clinic.

As you await the results, Max holds your hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “I’m right here,” he assures you. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”

The doctor returns, a knowing smile on his face. “Congratulations,” he says, looking at both of you. “You’re going to be parents.”

The room goes silent, the weight of the revelation sinking in. You turn to Max, searching his face for a reaction. “I’m sorry. I ... I didn’t expect this. It’s so soon.”

Max pulls you close, his eyes glassy with tears of joy. “Life has a funny way of surprising us,” he murmurs. “But I know one thing for sure. I can’t imagine having a family with anyone else.”

Your emotions swirl, a mix of surprise, joy, and fear. “Are you sure? What about your career? The media?”

Max silences you with a gentle kiss. “None of that matters. The only thing I care about is us. Our family.”

Tears roll down your cheeks, touched by his words. “I love you,” you whisper, heart full to overflowing.

Max grins, his blue eyes shining. “And I love you. This might be unexpected but it’s the best surprise of my life.”

***

“Three-time World Champion! How does that feel?” A journalist thrusts a microphone towards Max moments after his astounding win in Qatar.

“It’s surreal,” Max responds, his gaze seeking you out among the crowd. “Every championship is special but this one ... it’s different.”

The winter months are a haven of privacy for the two of you in your own little bubble. As the world speculates about the upcoming racing season, you and Max nest away from prying eyes, savoring the anticipation of your growing family.

However, when the 2024 season kicks off, it’s impossible to hide your baby bump any longer. Whispers ripple through the crowd as you walk through the paddock with Max for the first day of preseason testing.

“It’s so obvious now!”

“They look so happy together.”

“She’s glowing.”

But one voice rises above the rest from the sea of murmurs, filled with venom. “So this is your grand plan? Trap Max by getting pregnant?”

You turn to find Charles, his face contorted with anger. You take a deep breath, preparing to face the storm. “Charles, this really isn’t the place—”

Max steps forward, partially blocking you from Charles’ view, his voice colder than ice. “What do you want?”

Charles scoffs, looking you up and down with disdain. “Just wanted to see the spectacle for myself. You always did know how to play the game.”

Max’s eyes flash with anger, his posture tense. “Let me make this clear. You don’t get to disrespect Y/N or our relationship. You lost that right a long time ago.”

“You think this will make him stay with you?” Charles sneers towards you. “That he won’t get tired of you just like he did with all the others?”

Before you can respond, Daniel steps in, his presence commanding and the joking smile that usually graces his face nowhere to be found. “Enough. Show some respect.”

Christian, overhearing the commotion, joins the fray. “Is there a problem here?” he asks, voice firm.

Charles hesitates, glancing around at the united front against him. “No,” he finally mutters, turning on his heel and walking away.

Max’s grip on your hand tightens, his expression stormy. “You know you’re never alone in this, right?” he asks.

You nod, your voice soft but resolute. “I do. And I know you’ll always have my back. Just like I’ll always have yours.”

He squeezes your hand. “Always. Nothing and no one can ever come between us. Our family is the most important thing in my life.”

***

The soft hum of chatter surrounds the preschool’s main entrance. Parents eagerly await their children, discussing the excitement of the first day. You stand beside Max, his hand resting protectively on your protruding belly.

“Look, Mama!” A little voice exclaims and two giggling children rush towards you — your daughter, Sophie, and a boy with familiar dark hair.

Before you can respond, another voice joins the fray. “Henri! Over here!”

You turn, finding Charles standing there, Elise by his side, her arm entwined with his. Their eyes meet yours, a mixture of surprise and recognition.

Sophie hugs her little friend, Henri. “This is my new best friend!”

Max bends down, ruffling Sophie’s hair. “That’s great, liefje.” He then stands and addresses Charles, his tone neutral, “Seems our children have taken a liking to each other.”

Charles nods, attempting a smile. “It appears so.”

There’s an awkward silence, the past hanging heavily between you all.

Finally, Elise speaks, her voice quivering, “I’m sorry ... for everything. I never expected things to turn out like this.”

You meet her gaze, seeing genuine remorse. “Life is full of surprises. But it led me to Max and he is the best thing that’s ever been mine.”

Max adds, “What’s important is that we’re all here for our kids. Let’s not make our past their burden.”

Charles sighs, rubbing his temples. “You’re right. I regret many things but right now, Henri is my world and I want the best for him.”

You place a hand on your belly, feeling the tiny kicks. “Our children have a chance at a fresh start, a friendship untainted by the history of their parents. Let’s not stand in their way.”

The two children, oblivious to the emotional weight of the moment, tug at your arms. “Can we go to the park? Pretty please.” Sophie asks, her eyes shining with excitement.

You smile down at her, “Of course.”

As your two families part ways, there’s a sense of closure. The past, with its pain and betrayal, has been acknowledged, but the future, the innocent laughter of your children, holds promise. Life has moved on, leading each of you down different paths, but in this moment, there’s newfound unity in the shared hope for a brighter tomorrow.

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deer-knight · 2 years

Text

six weeks post top surgery - i went for a run for the first time in 4 years.

i used to run nearly every day. from around middle school to the middle of my time at uni i ran almost daily. i rarely missed it. i ran on roads, trails, the track, and almost always with my dog. he’s gone now, but he was my favorite running and adventuring company.

as my dysphoria worsened, running got harder. it brought me too close to my body. made me too aware. i couldn’t bear to do this thing i loved so much. at some point, i stopped running altogether. i found other ways to be active, but i just couldn’t run.

i ran today. not very far, and with a pause to cry and celebrate and catch my breath, but i ran. my body isn’t a cage anymore. i feel at home here now. i belong here.

i ran to the woods, and followed a trail that leads to a gorgeous overlook. i stopped there and i looked out at the mountains and the golden autumn sunlight on leaves, and i hugged myself and i cried and expressed my gratitude to the wind and the trees. i was always meant to be this way.

i wore a tshirt and cargo shorts and sunflower socks with the sneakers i hadn’t worn in 4 years. i used to have a small supply of running clothes. i’m not sure where they went, but this will do for now.

trans joy is important. it is essential. don’t give up on it. please. it’s worth it.

#trans joy #nonbinary #top surgery #they/them

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its-avalon-08 · 19 days

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Can you write one where lando has a crash and you are his best friend. lando isnt responsing over radio and you are freaking out and about to cry. the first thing he says is "tell y/n im ok" and you get together at the end of it. thanks and love ur works !

ruin our friendship (ln4)

y/n chewed on her bottom lip, anxiety gnawing at her stomach. the race had been chaotic from the start, a downpour creating a treacherous track. but nothing had prepared her for the radio silence that followed lando's crash. every tense second echoed in the sterile white of the garage.

"lando, lando, come in," the radio engineer's voice crackled with barely concealed panic. y/n squeezed her eyes shut, picturing lando's trademark grin, the one that never failed to calm her down. images of fiery crashes from past seasons flashed in her mind, each one a shard of ice in her already churning gut.

then, a voice, weak but undeniably lando. a strangled cough broke through the static, followed by, "tell y/n... i'm okay." relief washed over her in a tidal wave, threatening to spill over into tears. tears of gratitude, of terror temporarily subdued. she grabbed the radio, her voice thick with emotion, "lando, you scared the living daylights out of me!"

the crackle of a weak chuckle came through. "just a little spin, nothing serious." a beat of silence, then, "i'm okay guys. all ok. tell y/n to get back to the flat."

the flat. their flat. a shared haven in the whirlwind of the f1 circus. relief morphed into something more, a fluttering in her chest she couldn't quite define.

two days later, y/n helped lando, stiff and sore, out of the car after his hospital release. his arm was in a sling, but his smile, though weak, was genuine.

"careful there, clumsy," he teased, a familiar spark in his eyes. y/n rolled her eyes, guiding him towards the elevator.

inside their flat, the familiar smell of home greeted them. as she helped him settle onto the couch, a comfortable silence settled. then, lando cleared his throat.

"y/n," he began, his voice serious. y/n met his gaze, a million unspoken things swirling in her own blue eyes. "this whole crash… it made me realize something."

he paused, his hand reaching for hers, sending a jolt through her. "i can't… i won't lose you, not like this. not when…" his voice trailed off, a blush creeping up his neck.

y/n's heart hammered against her ribs. "when what, lando?"

"when i've been a complete idiot for the past five years," he blurted out. "i… i like you, y/n. more than just a friend. i have for ages."

the words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings. y/n's breath hitched. "you… you like me?" she whispered, a smile blooming on her face.

"like you? y/n, i'm in love with you," lando confessed, his gaze intense. "always have been, scared to ruin our friendship."

y/n's smile widened, the last remnants of fear dissipating. "scared? lando, i…" she leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear, "i thought i was the only one going crazy."

a laugh, genuine and relieved, escaped lando's lips. he pulled her close, the warmth of his body seeping into hers. "so, what does that mean?" he asked, his voice a husky rumble against her cheek.

"it means," y/n whispered, her voice laced with newfound confidence, "that you're a bigger idiot than i thought, for waiting so long."

the kiss that followed was filled with the unspoken words of years, a promise of a future brighter than any podium finish. they weren't just teammates anymore, they were something more, something exhilarating and terrifying – a love story finally taking the checkered flag.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

leave a like! leave a note!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

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permanentswaps · 1 month

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A Second Lease - The Wedding

See the original from @mrwavellswaps here. Its probably my favorite story ever.

Five years had passed since I made the decision to seal myself into my son's body permanently. And let me tell you, it's been nothing short of ecstasy. Today, as I stand here in front of the mirror, adjusting my tie, I can't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. It's my wedding day, and I'm about to marry the love of my life, Sean.

As I straighten my tie, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I can't help but pause and appreciate the sight. I turn slightly, flexing my biceps, admiring the sculpted physique that now defines me. The reflection staring back at me is a testament to the transformation I've undergone. This body, once my son's, now mine, is a masterpiece – sculpted muscles, flawless skin, and a confidence that radiates from every pore.

With a smirk, I run my hands over my chest, feeling the firmness of the muscles beneath my fingertips. I lift my shirt slightly, revealing the chiseled abs that now adorn my torso. It's a sight to behold, one that fills me with pride and satisfaction.

"You're looking good, Jay," I say to myself, unable to tear my gaze away from the mirror. I straighten my shirt and adjust my collar, feeling a surge of excitement as I prepare to embark on this new chapter of my life. Today is not just about marrying Sean; it's about celebrating the journey that has brought me to this moment.

There hasn't been a single day where I haven't felt thankful for the choice I made. I can still vividly remember the day I proposed to Sean. We were hiking in the mountains, surrounded by breathtaking views. I got down on one knee, my heart pounding with nervous excitement, and asked him to spend the rest of his life with me. The look of joy on his face as he said yes will forever be etched in my memory.

Meanwhile, my dad's life hasn't been as rosy as mine. Every month that went by, he still went back to the woods, hoping against hope that he can reverse the swap. I can't say I blame him. After all, since I've been in control, this body has only gotten better. But unfortunately for him, no matter how many times he threw coins into that mystical well, it still never worked.

As the years went on, I noticed he began to look older than before. Whereas I kept my hair neat and trimmed and – in my eyes – quite youthful, he let himself go a bit. His long hair was still handsome, but definitely aged him up.

As he struggled to hold onto his youth, I eventually succumbed to a bit of guilt and couldn't keep the truth from him any longer. I came clean about what happened – about how I made that wish and sealed our fates. And let's just say, he didn't take it well.

"I made the choice that was best for me, Dad. It's time you accepted it," I stated firmly.

He stormed off, cursing me as he walked. "This is how you fucking repay me?" he shouted. "And why does that make any sense? Even if you wanted to keep my body forever, why would you make it so that the well wouldn’t work on me anymore?"

You might be asking yourself the same question. Why did I make both our bodies impervious to magic? Well, to be honest, I needed to ensure that I would be the only Jay – no other versions to detract from the attention. Nobody to take away the perfect life that I was living. And someone to stand in my place, so people wouldn't make my life a hassle coming and asking what happened to my dad.

Looking back, I can't help but acknowledge the brilliance of my decision. I mean, come on, look at me – I'm hot, young, and irresistible. But I can't help but wonder what it would have been like to let myself keep this version of it forever. But hey, I still look amazing, and that's not changing anytime soon.

As for my dad, he refused to come to the wedding. I'm not surprised, really. Ever since I came clean about what happened, our relationship has been strained, to say the least. But you know what? It's no bother. Because at the end of the day, Sean is all I need.

As I stand in front of the mirror, lost in my thoughts, the sound of the door creaking open breaks the silence. Sean's presence behind me is electric, his hungry smirk sending a jolt of anticipation through my body. As he wraps his arms around my waist, I can't help but smile, feeling his warmth against my skin.

"You clean up well, babe," Sean's voice is like velvet, low and husky. His fingers trace along the contours of my chest, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth of his breath against my ear sends a thrill through me as he whispers, "But you know what would make this look even better?"

Before I can respond, our lips meet in a fiery, passionate kiss, igniting a blaze of desire between us. With a teasing tug, Sean rips off my shirt, leaving only the tie around my neck. "You're one sexy hunk," he murmurs, his gaze filled with hunger as he takes in my exposed chest.

Moving towards the bed, Sean takes hold of the tie, using it as a leash to guide me, a silent command that I'm more than willing to follow. As he lines up his cock against my eager hole, I can't help but marvel at his size, every thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

"You've been putting in extra hours at the gym, babe," Sean chuckles sexily, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "I can tell."

He keeps pounding me. Its so good I can hardly stand it.

"God, Jay," Sean gasps, his voice strained with pleasure, "you feel so good."

Hearing him use that name, Jay, ignites a fire within me, fueling my desire as I flex my muscles, showing off for him.

As our passion builds, reaching its peak, we both find release our massive loads together, our bodies moving in perfect harmony as waves of ecstasy wash over us. In the aftermath, Sean's fingers trace patterns across my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "You're amazing," he whispers, his voice filled with reverence and adoration.

As Sean puts his shirt back on, I can't help but voice my concern about staining it. But he just chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't worry, babe," he reassures me, "it'll dry. And then, when we're on the altar and dancing the night away, it'll be our sexy little secret."

Later, as we stand at the altar, preparing to exchange our vows, my mind drifts back to our passionate encounter. Aside from being extremely horny for him, I also feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love and happiness that Sean brings into my life. Becoming Jay and making his life my own was definitely the right decision. And as Sean and I embark on this new chapter together, I'm ready for whatever lies ahead.

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sareeen · 2 months

Text

The charm of snow

Based on this request. :)

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Azriel surprises his wife at home and fulfils a childhood dream of her.

Warnings: fluff, mention of abuse, sweet, playful husband Azriel

Masterlist

A/N: Hope you like it! This is part 2 of Unknown Touches for a Lady, but it can be a standalone. (Here –> Part 1)

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistake! :)

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Azriel was attentive.

Y/N only really realised this when the clock struck quarter past three and the man suddenly stepped through the door with a slight, sweet smile on his face.

Y/N was lying on the sofa, almost swallowed up by one of the soft blankets, looking at her husband with a sleepy, surprised expression.

She quickly straightened and ran a hand through her hair, but winced as she caught her finger in one of the tangled strands.

She hadn't expected him, Azriel was busy with the Court's affairs, so Y/N had mostly only met him in the late hours, when thousands of stars shone in the sky. They had been married for three weeks and were still getting used to each other's closeness.

They hadn't slept together since their wedding night.

There had been a few coy kisses, a gentle peck on the cheek and a brief double-sided hug. Every night Y/N waited for Azriel to knock on the door of her bedroom, but all she heard were footsteps pausing for a second and then moving quickly on outside her door.

It was as if each time he restrained himself from knocking.

But now he stood there, his wings and muscular shoulders almost filling the doorframe. There seemed to be a restrained glint in his eyes as he spoke.

“It's snowing.”

Y/N's eyes widened and a surprised sound escaped her, then she rushed to the huge window overlooking the street and pulled the curtains.

Huge flakes of snow fell from the sky, the light wind carried them in a thousand directions, turning the landscape white.

Happy, screaming children rushed out of one of the buildings holding something in their hands – some with scarves, others with carrots.

“Shall we go outside?” asked Azriel quietly behind her. “We could go for a walk.”

Y/N's eyes watered and she sniffled, barely audible.

Ever since she was a little girl, she'd longed to see a snowfall - to feel the sensation of snow on her skin.

Two weeks ago, after a dinner, the subject came up between her and Azriel about what she would like to see of the outside world and the first thing she said was snowfall.

Her husband remembered and came straight home to get her. He's going to go with her and make her dream come true.

Warmth flooded her chest, her heart just fluttering with gratitude and happiness as she turned and nodded.

“Yes” her throat tightened with emotion as she said the words. “I really want to go outside.”

She almost flew to the rack, grabbed her coat and awkwardly wrapped her thick, fluffy scarf around her neck. She tucked her feet into the boots, but she was so scrambled that she would have fallen if Azriel hadn't caught her right arm and held her.

“Here we go, I'm ready!” she looked up at the spymaster, who grinned as Y/N blushed.

She was being too silly, she realized.

“Not yet” he shook his head serenely.

Y/N watched with furrowed brows as Azriel pulled a knitted cap from behind his back and pushed it on her head. It was so warm that within moments Y/N could feel herself beginning to sweat underneath and her hair sticking to her forehead.

“Now, you are ready”

Azriel opened the door for her and put his hand on her back to lead her out into the street.

An icy, shivering wind hit their faces and Y/N took a deep breath, letting the feeling wash over her. Her cheeks were almost tingling from the cold, but the wide grin still sat on her face.

Another first time.

She tilted her head up and closed her eyes. The tiny snowflakes found their way and caressed her cheek, and within moments melted away to leave her skin wet.

She reached out and looked at her palms, gazing at the six-pointed, star like snowflakes. They were beautiful, like tiny transparent crystals.

The touch of them left an icy, tingling sensation in her fingers, but it was all the more wonderful.

“Do you like it?” Azriel whispered in her ear as he placed a snow ball in her hand.

Y/N just stared at the ball.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Y/N asked, puzzled, and Azriel grunted.

“Throw it away” he suggested in a mischievous tone. “Maybe at him.”

Y/N looked in the direction where the shadowsinger was pointing and was stunned.

“I'm not going to throw a child!” she blurted out immediately and elbowed Azriel in the side, who laughed and dodged the hit.

The snow crunched under Y/N's boots as she took a few steps forward and in a sudden burst of excitement spun around and aimed at Azriel. Targeting the combat-skin covered chest, she pulled her arm back and swung. The snowball flew towards Azriel at high speed and then it was on target.

It hit her husband squarely in the face.

The shadowsinger was knocked backwards by the blow, while Y/N clapped a hand over her mouth in fright and turned pale.

“Cauldron” she hurried over to him and quickly brushed the snow off his handsome face, which was slightly flushed.

“I am so, so sorry, Azriel. Please don't be angry with me! I swear I was aiming for your chest.”

She felt fear flooding every inch of her body and anxiety clenched her stomach. Azriel may have been nice, but no man would tolerate being humiliated like that by his wife in the middle of the street.

When the spymaster raised his hand, Y/N hunched her shoulder and tensed in preparation for the punch, then closed her eyes.

But the pain and the sharp snap of his palm failed to register, so she gingerly peeked out from under her lashes and looked at her husband.

Azriel watched her with a frown, pity shining in his eyes. But at the same time, something ancient and destructive rage lingered in him, and Y/N winced again.

“Did you think I was going to hit you?” inquired Azriel, his voice almost lost in the howling wind.

Y/N could only manage a small nod and tried to swallow the lump in her throat that made her feel like she was choking.

“I –“ Y/N cleared her throat and blew out a shaky breath. “I would understand.”

She hung her head, eyed the tiny embroidered designs on her black boots and waited for Azriel's reaction. But he just stood there motionless, which almost drove Y/N crazy.

“Can you please say something?” she blurted out nervously.

Azriel suddenly cupped her face in both hands and forced Y/N to look up at him. Her husband's face looked as if it had been carved from stone, his beautiful features now looking sharper in the wintry landscape.

“Y/N” his thumb ran over her skin in a soft, caressing motion. Gently, so gently that Y/N's breath caught in her lungs. “Look into my eyes.”

The golden-brown gaze almost burned Y/N's face and she found it hard not to turn her head.

“I'll never hit you” Azriel declared with firm determination and promise radiated from every inch of his body. “I swear it. I will cut off my hand before I lay a hand on you. Understand?”

“Yes” Y/N whispered.

“I don't want you to be afraid of me. You are my wife and so I want you to feel safe and comfortable with me.”

Azriel pulled his knife from the sheath hanging at his side and placed it in Y/N's hand, then shook her grip. The cool, murderous steel gave her chills.

“But if anyone hurts you, kill them with this,” he murmured quietly. “And those who have laid a hand on you in the past years, I will be the one to deal with.”

Y/N couldn't even speak as Azriel leaned in and kissed her.

The kiss tasted of anger, sorrow, and promise, and it pulled her off her feet and clung to Azriel's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, his hand holding her tightly by the waist, almost devouring her.

Azriel's lips were warm on hers, his tongue begging for entrance. Y/N opened her lips and their tongues intertwined, following each other's dance sweetly.

They broke away from each other, both gasping for breath and Y/N was almost certain she was going to faint. A hotness flooded her guts and Azriel took her hand and raised it to his lips.

“Let's go, darling.”

They walked hand in hand past the rows of shops and Y/N was still dazed from the kiss and the events that had just taken place.

“Where are we going?” she asked when they had been walking for a few minutes and she could gather her thoughts.

The city was beautiful, with wreaths and red bows decorating the streets everywhere. Snow was falling heavily from the sky, making the roofs of the houses look like they had been sprinkled with icing sugar.

Azriel didn't answer, but went into one of the shops and pulled her along behind him.

The little bell above their heads rang, the heat inside hit Y/N and she inhaled the scent of cinnamon. It was a tiny, cluttered room and she tried to make out what all the wooden stuff was, leaving almost no room for a mug.

The shadowsinger picked up one of them, a very large one with a string hanging from one half, and approached the vendor to pay.

Afterwards he turned to her with a smile of such delight that she was unable not to smile back.

“Come.”

He led her to a back door and outside they found themselves at the top of a hill.

Y/N looked down at the long, snow covered ground and looked expectantly at her husband, who had set the wooden thing down and was patting the top.

“Sit on it,” Azriel commanded kindly, and Y/N immediately sat down. She had no idea what this was going to turn into.

“So we're looking at the scenery?” she asked him, but she looked around cheerfully. “I like it.”

Azriel gave a hearty laugh and sat down behind her. Her back was against his muscular, warm chest, which made her feel relaxed and she was about to nestle into his embrace when Azriel began to squirm.

He pulled his wing up so it didn't touch the snowy ground and handed Y/N the rope that connected to the front of the structure.

“Hold on!”

With that, he swung his legs into momentum and kicked away, and they started down the drop.

The breakneck speed and the snow in her face made Y/N scream, but Azriel just laughed behind her and wrapped his huge body around her. The trees blurred in her vision and her ears whistled because of the wind, but somehow she began to enjoy the rush.

There was something liberating about hurtling to the bottom of the hill, leaving all her troubles behind for a moment and just enjoying it.

“Pull the rope!” shouted Azriel, his voice deep and wonderful in her ear.

Y/N leaned back slightly, straight into her husband and tightened the rope, causing them to slow down.

Eventually the contraption they were sitting on stopped as they got down to the field and just sat there quietly for a few moments while Azriel stood up.

I've been married to a child, Y/N thought to herself in amazement, but there was a bubbling joy inside her.

The shadows surrounding Azriel crept fiercely around his ears and his eyes brightened.

“I heard that” he smiled wryly. “That's not what I remember you thinking on our wedding night.”

Y/N playfully, but laughing, nudged Azriel's leg, who began to pull her up the hill.

“What do you call this thing?” Y/N asked, laying her feet on the two long wooden planks.

“Sledge” Azriel replied and repositioned the sledge just as before. “We're sledding, Y/N”

He pulled back a little and grabbed the back of the sled. The scarred hands, tanned face and golden brown eyes evoked feelings in Y/N that she couldn't even express.

Maybe she could.

She would have loved to throw herself on him and do all the things she had done on their wedding night.

“Be careful and pull the rope like before” Azriel suggested and Y/N panicked.

“What?”

However, Azriel started to run and gave a big push, releasing the sledge, and Y/N started to race back down into the deep.

She screamed as if Azriel had sent her to her death - though that wasn't far from the truth.

She yanked on the rope, but lost her balance and fell sideways in front of the field, off the sled and rolled for a few moments, then, face down in the snow, came to a stop.

She heard the flapping of wings and Azriel's desperate voice, but her shoulder was already shaken.

He rolled her towards him and laughter burst out of her. She kept tearing and clutching her stomach, then managed to speak.

“Oh, I was so scared!” she wiped her face. “But let's do it again!”

Azriel sighed in relief, but smiled sweetly and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Don't scare me like that anymore.”

They sledged until dark and Y/N's lips were almost frozen in a grin by the time they got home.

She had never been so happy in her life.

She wanted to cling to Azriel and never let go. Her heart began to beat faster when he escorted her to her room in their flat and pressed a long, honey sweet kiss to her lips.

“Azriel?” she toyed with the strands of sultry, slightly curling hair that frizzled at the top of his neck.

“Yes?” The spymaster murmured and ran his hand soothingly up and down Y/N's back.

“Thank you.”

The shadowsinger looked down at her and Y/N's legs trembled at the golden brown gaze.

“Me too” he replied, then stepped back and walked towards his own room.

Y/N sank her teeth into her bottom lip and hesitated.

“Azriel?”

“Yes?” he turned to her immediately.

It was as if the shadows had already whispered Y/N's question to him and he was just waiting for her to ask it.

Y/N looked over him, took in his muscular frame, his charming face, and felt a warmth flood over her.

“Would you like to sleep with me?”

“To sleep?” Azriel's lips twitched in amusement.

“We don't have to sleep.”

Y/N giggled as he moved towards her, gasping for air as he almost pushed her into the room with his imposing body.

The door closed behind them with a loud slam.

#acotar #acomaf #a court of thrones and roses #azriel x reader #acowar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x you

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flwrstqr · 2 months

Text

— SICKNESS DAYS TOGETHER

₊˚⊹ notes ~ idol! sunghoon x fem!reader ⋆⭒ warnings: sickness, reader on period, guilty, not proofread, pentanes ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 word count: 400+꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ genre: fluff, comfortish | AN: a request from an anon, this was honestly a really cute prompt so thank u sm anon for requesting ^^| LIBRARY FOR MORE...

YOU'RE HUDDLE ON THE COUCH cradling a heating pad against your stomachas the cramps rage on. It's one of those days where everything feels terrible, and your mood matches the gloomy weather outside. Each passing minute seems to drag on, and you find yourself wishing for some relief.

Just when you start feeling more pangs of pain, the door creaks open, and Sunghoon steps inside. His dance practice ended early today. You barely acknowledge his presence, due to your cramps.

"Hey, angel," Sunghoon greets, his voice laced with tiredness, "I'm home."

You respond with a short nod, still in immense pain.

Sunghoon's brows furrow in worry as he approaches you. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" you snap, your irritation seeping into your voice.

Sunghoon steps back slightly, taken aback by your sharp tone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Just leave me alone," you mutter, burying your face in the pillow.

Sunghoon hesitates, his expression troubled. "Actually, I'm not feeling too well either."

You shoot him a skeptical glance. "Oh, really? Got cramps too, huh?"

He shakes his head, a pained expression crossing his features. "No, it's my stomach. It's been bothering me since practice."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "Sure, Sunghoon. Just trying to tease me, are you?God I probably going through worse."

His hurt is evident in his eyes as he meets your gaze. "No, I'm serious. I feel really sick."

"Right," you turned around, annoyance still flaming in your mood. Sunghoon stood up and then left the living room quietly, leaving you alone.

YOU'RE ABOUT TO HEAD OUT TO THE convenience store. As you grab your bag and keys, Sunghoon's earlier words echo in your mind. His stomach ache. At first, you brushed it off as him teasing you, but now, a feeling of doubt creeps in.

You pause, your hand hovering over the doorknob. Glancing back at Sunghoon, who's slumped on his bed looking paler and more tired than usual, a wave of guilt washes over you. Maybe you've been too quick to dismiss his discomfort. After all, he's never been one to complain about minor ailments unlike you.

With a heavy heart, you leave the apartment, your mind racing with worry. What if he's really sick? What if you've been too caught up in your own discomfort to notice his suffering?

As you make your way to the convenience store, you try to focus yourself to get the stuff you need and maybe a couple of snacks.

Inside the store, you mechanically grab the pads, your mind preoccupied with thoughts of Sunghoon. As you head to the checkout counter, you catch sight of the antacids on display. Without hesitation, you add them to your basket.

Back at the apartment, you find Sunghoon exactly where you left him, looking even worse than before. His pale skin and pained expression tug down your heart, filling you with a sense of determination to make it up to him.

"I got you something," you say softly, handing him the antacids.

He looks up at you in surprise, his eyes widening. "You didn't have to—"

"I know," you interrupt, taking a seat beside him in the bed. "But I wanted to. I'm sorry for not taking you seriously earlier. You were right, and I should have listened."

Sunghoon's expression softens, his gratitude evident in his eyes. "Thank you, baby. I really appreciate it." You give a soft smile leaning in for a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I love you so much," you whispered softly.

"I love you too," Sunghoon replied, holding you tightly.

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aeth-supremacy · 1 year

Text

König - Projekt Amor

Word count: 4.6k

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: When the lab you're clearing with König has a hormonal weapon you didn't expect, you try your hardest to control yourself from him, but you can tell he's wanted this for a while.

Warnings: Smut, poorly translated German, some canon typical violence, and drug-induced sex.

Notes: I know many of you follow me for Ghost Band stuff, which I will continue to write!! I’m just gonna leave this here for my CoD enjoyers too <3

“Hello, König!” You smiled, taking a seat across from him on the plane. You looked around for a moment, expecting to see more of the team. Surprisingly, it was just the two of you, plus a pilot. König wore what he always did, and you adorned your gear for more hands-on missions, as you normally opted to stay back and operate some of the computers back at base. Behind you, the door sealed and your pilot began procedures for liftoff.

“Hallo, süßes mädchen.” König said simply. You could tell his eyes creased slightly behind his hood. A small gesture that he was happy to see you. He fidgeted lightly with a sheathed knife, his leg bouncing as he thought. Despite not being able to see his face, he looked handsome. Maybe it was something in his eyes, or the way his shoulders rested on the seats of the small plane. You wouldn’t dare tell him, but you thought he looked gorgeous. As you were about to pipe up and talk to him, a voice rang in through your headpiece.

“Listen up, kids. We got something simple for you today, and I know it’s just the two of you. We’re dropping you by a small building near a forested area, it’s said to contain some bioweapons in a basement lab that we gotta take possession of. Do not split up at any time. Do you copy?”

“Copy, Captain.” You chimed.

“Copy.” König added.

“Alright. Trust each other, come back in one piece. I’ll have some folk in touch if you run into trouble. Out.” The radio buzzed out. You looked back to König again, his leg bouncing faster and his gloved fingers playing with the hem of his hood.

“Are you nervous, König?” You asked sweetly. You didn’t want to make fun of him, you never did. But you could see the fear in his eyes from what people had said before, his eyebrows shifting defensively before he remembered who he was talking to. You and König don’t go way far back, but you had known him for a few months and you had been nothing but kind. You’ve talked to him without minding his pauses to think, you’ve stayed up late to help him with paperwork or talk through his feelings, you’ve gone to lunch with him so he wouldn’t feel so lonely, in all honesty… you’ve done a lot for him. He had a deep appreciation for you that he never spoke about, but he knew it was there, and that it was possibly even something more than platonic gratitude.

“Hmm… not really.” He paused for a moment. “I have faith in our little team, very much so! I’d just hate for you to get hurt when only I can help you, kleine maus. I’m not very good at playing the medic.” He laughed nervously.

“I won’t get hurt, I promise.” Your eyes met König’s as you spoke, his gaze softening at your promise. You don’t have a clue, but he would do anything to protect you. “How far out?” You called to your pilot.

“Bout’ 25 minutes, ma’am!” He called back. You thanked him as you stood up, walking across the small gap to sit beside your teammate. He turned his head towards you, his hands dropping to his thighs and his leg calming. You made pleasant small conversation for the rest of the ride, both simply enjoying the presence of the other.

————

When you arrived at the site, you never would've expected it to be a place with biological weapons. In fact, you even wondered if you were dropped at the right location. From what you could see, the site was just a humble wooden house in the forest, almost like a cabin. Its yard and landscaping were neglected, the paths to the door becoming overgrown and the wildflowers taking over the areas beside the porch. König took the path in front of you, his rifle at his side and his large body pushing up to the door and opening it by force. The pilot and his plane took off behind you, leaving you and König to clear the building and search for information for a good while before he would return.

You marveled at the way that you and König could work together. König was a trailblazer, a spearhead. He pushed from room to room, opening doors by force and shooting first. He dropped bodies everywhere he walked, and it amazed you that the soft spoken, shy boy you knew from the plane was put on hold. It was his job, after all. König was working. You two pointed in different directions, backs nearly pressed together, becoming a beautiful dance of bullets and coming out practically unscathed.

With his knife in one hand and a heartbeat monitor in his other, König announced. “Clear!” A body dropping to the ground beside him as his knife returned to its sheath. You followed quickly behind him, holstering your pistol as you walked.

“The basement.” You reminded. “Where is it? Did you find the door?”

“Mmhmm.” He hummed. “Over here, liebling.” He nodded his head to his left. The lighting that emitted from under the door was different from the warm white of the house, almost a cool blue, like aggressive fluorescent lights. He hesitantly walked over to it, slowly turning the handle as you both got your guns out once more. The door creaked open eerily, “Me first.” König stated.

He ducked to get into the stairway, you following only steps behind him. He rounded the corner sharply, pointing his gun in the direction of any possible movement. There were only two people there, a woman and a white coat with her hands up in the air, and a man in all black gear with a gun pointed right at you. König didn’t think twice as he shot the man, his heavy body dropping to the floor with a thud. You and König moved forward to the woman.

“On the ground.” You prompted. She obeyed, getting on her knees with a wince and leaving her hands where they could be seen. König walked a few feet away to take a glance at one of the many computers set up in the room. He leaned down slightly, silently observing a laptop with a blue and white screen. Files illuminated its display, and König only grazed his eyes over them in curiosity. The computer work was your job, after all. You kept your gun pointed at the woman, only looking over at your partner for a few seconds to see what he was doing.

The woman saw her opportunity. She picked up an unmarked grenade off of the ground near her, pulled its pin and threw it at König as fast as possible. A guttural scream left your throat, a bullet instinctively blowing into her brain as you panicked with the most terrifying thoughts. König’s eyes widened as the grenade dropped to his feet. Rather than an explosion, the grenade simply leaked a pinkish substance from a few holes in its base, almost gas-like. As soon as he noticed it wasn’t going to explode, König picked it up and threw it up the stairs. The pink haze remained around him, his chest heaving as he attempted to calm himself down from his panicked thoughts of mortality.

“König, König!” You rushed over to him, a hand placing onto his chest as you pushed him into another room within the basement. He stumbled backward slightly, catching himself on a door frame as you backed him into the room and opened the door for him. It had no people, no gasses, it was just a simple single office. The lights were back to being a warm beige color. It had a few computers on one desk together, filing cabinets, a few desk chairs, a small fan in the corner, and a few little areas with bookshelves or plants. “It’s okay! I’m right here, you’re okay. I promise.” You assured König as you walked with him. You shut and locked the door behind you, placing your partner slowly down onto a plush desk chair across from the main desk. His wide eyes looked up at you, petrified.

“Oh Scheiße, was ist das? Was passiert mit mir Liebling?” He spoke quickly in his native tongue. You felt so horrible, letting something like that happen to him. You could tell how much his anxiety was beginning to affect him, his ability to speak English practically fleeting, and his words beginning to slur together ever so slightly. You attempted to give him space, but his hands flew to your waist as he panicked. “No! Don’t go-” The look in his eyes tugged at something in your heart. He looked miserable, like he was so helpless he could almost cry.

That’s when you knew something was very wrong, König was far from helpless. You’d seen him destroy foes moments ago and how his eyes were pooling at the sight of you.

“I’m not going anywhere, König. I just need to take a look at their files, okay? I need to figure out what they threw at you. I’ll be right here. I’ll never leave you.” You assure. He nodded, his breaths calming as he let go of you slowly. The lack of your body made him antsy, the feeling of your body heat in his hands mysteriously making his ache from the gas relieve. He shut his eyes and let his head drop, heavy breaths leaving his covered lips.

You moved to the other side of the desk, punching in an access code to their computers as you desperately searched their files. The screen illuminated with documents, hundreds of reports and tests written out in front of you. You scrolled past what your captain wanted you to find, your mind only being set on König. You needed to help him. He is what you cared about, fuck the mission.

“Will I die?” König muttered while staring down into his lap, almost too quiet for you to hear. Almost like he was asking himself.

“No! No, I will NOT let you die.” You typed furiously as you sifted through the files on all the lab's projects, past and future. Until you landed on one… Project Cupid. The title page included a blueprint and prototype of the exact grenade thrown at König. Your eyes sifted over the lab report, hoping for an idea of what he was going through.

“Es ist so heiß hier drin… it’s so hot-” He whined. He threw off his vest, rolled up his sleeves, and took off his helmet and gloves. His hands shook as he attempted to relieve himself of his discomfort, his sorry attempts proving useless to the crawling in his skin. “I can’t take it, maus… lass mich dich noch einmal berühren…” He begged from behind his hood, his hips shifting in the seat you had placed him in. His native tongue caused his voice to rasp, he was almost growling as he spoke. He threw his head back, his eyes tracing the lines of the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m trying.” You urged. You read the symptoms, the outcomes, just anything that it could do to him. It was a sex bomb. A pheromonal gas. König was squirming and sweating out of his mind. Being this way wouldn’t kill him, but you could tell he was uncomfortable. His chest was heaving, his forearms were sticking to the chair, and as you suspected, a painfully prominent tent was in his pants. “Holy shit…” You whispered.

“What? What?” He asked as his view shot back to you. “What is it?” He looked at you with desperation, his eyes begging behind his hood.

“You… you won’t die, König. You’re being affected by a pheromonal gas. It’s gonna feel really hot, you’re gonna be pretty uncomfortable, and you’re probably pretty… aroused?” You attempted to explain. König groaned.

“Oh fuck-” He began. “I’m so sorry, maus. Fuck- I never should’ve let this happen. I’m so- ahhh- Es tut mir leid. I should've been more careful…” He moved his hips lazily as he spoke, the friction from his pants alone almost causing him to moan. You looked at him from across the desk, his eyes squeezing shut with every movement and his hands going white-knuckled on the arms of the chair. The reports told you exactly what you needed to know. You knew he was gonna be like this for a while, especially if you don't help him.

But you couldn't. Not when the reports explicitly told you he wouldn't be thinking straight soon.

“Everything is okay! We’ll get you through this, König. How about you lay down on the ground for a second? It’ll be colder down there.” You moved from your spot at the desk and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tensed at the touch, his teeth clenching as he tried not to make a sound. Even a touch as small as that, a simple graze to his clothed shoulder, he wanted to tear your clothes off and fuck your brains out.

“O- of course. Yes… I’ll do that.” He got up slowly, his legs weakly carrying him as he made his way to lay in the middle of the room, his large body relaxing against the cool concrete floor. He was still breathing heavily, and you could still see that sweat was trailing down his forearms. His back relaxed against the floor, his face looking upwards at the ceiling. The lights danced in his vision, his mind hazed with lust.

You felt bad, so bad. But there wasn’t entirely anything you could do, you knew his headspace wasn’t entirely clear and he didn’t want to do anything that either of you would regret. “Is that better?” You asked. You stood a few feet away from him, looking down on him.

He trailed his big hands along the black athletic pullover that he always wore under his gear, quickly undoing the zipper and pulling it over his head. It took a bit of his hood with it, revealing his open mouth and a part of his nose. What you could see was stunning. Scattered stubble, soft lips, faded scars. Shockingly, König didn’t care that part of his face was showing, or maybe he didn’t even notice. His chest was bare and toned, the sweat and scars together making a gorgeous view. His stomach didn't present as all abs, he still cutely supported a soft belly. “So heiß…” He simply responded.

“What was that?” You asked.

“It’s so… fucking… hot.” He panted. You nodded, briskly walking over to the fan in the corner of the room and turning it onto high as a last resort. You looked around, looking for anything else that could help him. “Please… please help me, schöne taube. Let me touch you again.” He sat up from his position, his hood falling back down. He backed himself into a wall, the cool paint pressing onto his back and forcing a moan from his lips. You walked over to him, not quite understanding what he meant.

“Does that help you, König? Do you feel better when you hold me?” You hadn't read that this would help him in the reports, but you really did desperately want to help him. You hated seeing him like this, this distressed and distraught state. You held out your hand to him. He grabbed your it with greed, pulling you down onto your knees to be with him on the floor. His mind was moving faster than his mouth, his lips babbling on as he pulled you into him. You rested next to him, your thigh touching his. He placed his hands along your arm, holding it gently and placing your hand on his clothed cheek, beginning to run it down his chest.

“So much better… so sehr… please, please- I need to touch you more. Please. I need to feel your skin against mine, schöne. Fuckkk- I need you!” König babbled. You could see his hips moving, his cock aching within his pants. He attempted to drag your hand down to the tent, but you sharply pulled away.

“König, I can’t. I can't touch you… like that, I’m sorry. I know you’re not thinking clearly… I can’t do that to you when you may not really want it.” You spoke, bringing your hand back up to hold his cheek. He whined at the touch, his own hand dipping between his legs to press down on where they met. He looked into your eyes, sweetly, and let out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard.

“Scheiße, bitte, ich meine es ernst! I’ve wanted you since I met you, mein schatz. Please, pleaseee. Fuck, fuck- just fuck me, I beg of you! I ache, I need you. I promise I really want you. I want you so bad!” König continued his begging as he clawed at his belt, his ungloved hands easily undoing it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I can't take it-” König quietly realized that he might've sounded ridiculous.

You looked down at his tented pants, and back up to his eyes. You nodded at him. He was serious, something about his eyes told you so. It was all coming back to you now. The way he would relax into you when you sat next to him, when he would laugh with you at lunch, when he would ask you out for drinks between just the two of you, even when he would reach the top shelves for you. He liked you. Damnit, he might just love you. “Just promise me you won’t regret this later.” You pleaded.

König lifted his hood and threw it off of his head. His eyes met yours as he sighed with the relief of showing you his whole face. His eyebrows were knit together, his eyes showing a needy side of him you never thought you’d see. “I could never regret anything with you, kleine maus.” He grabbed you by the waist once more, bringing you onto his lap. One of his hands flew up to the back of your head, making a fistful of hair and pulling you into a messy kiss. You gave in instantly, your whine being muffled by his own.

The way he handled you… you could feel a wave of lust take over your body. His hands ran down your body, his fingertips trailing and tracing every part of you that he could as he muttered his gratitude to you. He tugged at your shirt, undoing the tuck you had done so perfectly in the morning. His hands ran into the bare skin of your stomach, a happy groan coming from his throat. “Oh god… thank you so much, maus. Your skin- mein gott. It’s like heaven.” Your hands shot to the side of his face, your kiss deepening as you pressed your chests together. König’s hands pulled your shirt upwards, your arms lifting to allow him to fling it somewhere in the room.

His hips still needily rutted against yours, your mind slipping from sane thoughts every time you felt his hard cock brush up and down against you. With every kiss, you felt like you were about to break, and he did too. He felt horrible, he knew he wasn't properly preparing you. Normally, he would have laid you out and stretched you with his fingers and wetted you with his tongue… but this was no normal occasion.

You moved your hands away from his face to tug at your belt, removing it and tossing it behind you. König noticed, his hands falling from your stomach to the hem of your pants. He nudged at the button, undoing it and sliding your pants off of you while you helped him. Except for your underwear and boots, you were bare for him. You had never been this exposed to him before, and the look on his face told you he couldn't be more excited.

Gently, König slipped a set of two fingers down past the lip of your panties. His half-lidded eyes met yours, praise seeping from his lips as he grazed your soaking pussy and pressed his fingers lightly onto your clit. “Oh je, du hübsches Mädchen! Do you want me this bad? This is for me? Danke~ you're so good for me.” He practically growled into your ear. You nodded at him in response, your head resting on his shoulder as he sank his fingers in. “Perfect, my love.” He groaned. “Mmm, I’m gonna fuck you so good. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

Fuck, you didn't know he would be so vocal like this. Maybe it was the added hormones talking, but you loved it either way. As you desperately reached down to König’s pants, he drug his fingers out of you and placed them into his mouth. He hummed against the taste, his eyes admiring you pulling down his pants like you'd die without feeling him. He watched your eyes widen as you met with his hard cock, and he knew this would happen. He wasn't just impressive in the field or in the height department. “K- König I-” You began.

“Shhhh, kleine maus. I know, I know you can take me. C'mere, let me help you, please.” König’s hands traveled along your hips, bringing them to hover over his cock. Even under the influence of a hormonal drug, he cared. He looked up at you, a softness in his eyes as he used one hand to line himself up with your cunt. “Deep breath, love.” He instructed, his thick tip poking at your entrance before it slipped into place within you. You let out a strangled moan as you felt the burning stretch of his cock. Konig stopped begging as much now, he knew he had you. You were whining desperately as he spread you apart.

“Holy shit, König! Oh fuck- God, you're so big-” You whined, König’s arms continuing to push you down onto him. The feeling gave a subtle burn, your muscles tensing and trying to relax. He gave you a soft smile, wrapping his arms around you and hugging your waist as your hips pressed back into his, closing the distance and pressing him deep inside. You hugged him back, your arms resting on the top of his broad shoulders. His hips desperately shifted upwards, begging to fuck into you.

After a few moments of deep sighs and adjustment, you told him you were ready and his hands returned to your waist. He lifted you with ease, his strong arms guiding you to bounce up and down and coat this thick cock with your juices. “Heilige scheiße! You’re so good- you… you feel so good!” He pleaded. “Danke, mein leibling!”

He looked at you in amazement, his hands traveling up to take off your bra as you rode him at a slow pace. He flung it somewhere in the room, his hands on your tits and his fingertips digging into them with need. He looked hypnotized, watching your pussy engulf his huge cock in a way he thought no one could. You cured his ache so well, he just wanted to destroy you. He wanted to fuck you so hard you couldn't think. He wanted to claim you from the inside and ruin you for any other man. You're his. His dick still ached inside of you, his sensitive head hitting the most perfect spots inside you as he craved more.

“Please, can I please take control of you? I need it, baby. I need to fuck you my way. I need to ruin you, schöne taube.” König’s grip back on your waist tightened as he waited for your answer. You felt his sweaty chest against yours, your bodies sticking together. It made you whine, your nesitive nipples grazing against the rough of his chest.

“Please…” You begged. “I need you, König. I need you so deep and strong and-” Before you could even finish, König had flipped the two of you, Your back pressed against the chilled floor, your thighs folded into your stomach as König placed your legs on his shoulders. His hands pressed on the back of your thighs, shoving and manipulating them into the position he wanted to ruin you in. You moaned loudly as he slammed deep into you, a penetrating force so strong you could almost cry. “König! Fuck, you're so good!” You yelped.

König was deep in his drunken haze, his hands pushing your squishy thighs back so he could fuck you deeper. He fucked you with a much faster pace now, the sound of your skin meeting echoing as you whined helplessly beneath him. He traced his hand down to your clit, his thumb tracing lightly along your nerves. “Oh, ja, scheiße! Take me, sweetheart. Take me, take me, take me!”

He leaned down, a soft kiss being placed on your lips to contrast the rough fuck he was giving you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you tightened down on him, his big hips continuing to fuck through the tightness. His aching flared again, his cock twitching as he fucked you. God, he needed to cum so badly. He needed to cum so badly this whole time. Ever since he took a breath of that drug, he laid his eyes on you and imagined fucking you into oblivion. Hell, he imagined it long before that. He imagined it alone in his room after long nights drinking with you, or even on days when you only said a single word to him.

You brought your hands up to his face, holding his soft cheeks and looking into his eyes as you spoke. “Do you wanna cum for me, König? You're doing so good for me.” You smiled at your subtle tease, his eyes melting as you spoke. It was like you had just read his mind. You went on a limb that he would like what you said, but he confirmed that by fucking into you faster. He let out growls and grunts with every thrust, throwing away the idea of embarrassment and anxiety and embracing the hormonal drug running through him. His thrusts began slipping, your walls tightening down harder on him as you chased release too.

“Mmm…schatz, I’m going to cum! Can I cum for you?” He groaned, his sloppy thrusts becoming unpredictable. Your cunt spazzed around him, your juices coating him further as your back arched in unimaginable pleasure. You felt the coil in your stomach snap, a scream of König’s name leaving your lips as he drug his cock out of you. As you laid out on the floor, spent and breathless, König sat on his knees above you and wrapped his hand around his cock. He stroked himself with urgency, his head flying back as he groaned your name. “Oh hübsches Mädchen, du fickst mich so gut!” Your wetness coated his cock and his hand, cum quickly shooting from the tip of his dick and landing beautifully on your stomach.

König slumped back against the wall, his hand returning to his side and his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. He looked around for his shirt, leaning over to get it and making it into a ball, whispering to you as he made his attempt to clean you up. “Danke… you were so good to me. I’ve wanted you like that for so long.” He mumbled. “What would I do without you?” He asked. You giggled, your hand reaching to hold König’s. He smiled at you. You both took a moment to breathe, collecting your clothes, putting the back on, and gathering the data you had been sent for.

You leaned over the lab computers, plugging in a flash drive as König called in and requested evac. As you typed, König walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His masked cheek pressed against your back. “Can we please cuddle when we get back to base, maus?” He mumbled, squeezing you gently.

“Absolutely, König.”

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