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emchant3d · 19 days

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They say Captain Munson has a gift. That he’s blessed by a god’s touch.

His ship has survived every battle. His crew flourishes with bounty, with health and good fortune. He steers them unerringly through every storm, sailing directly into the gargantuan waves, into the lightning and rain, and comes out the other side pristine while other vessels would have been sunk, snapped and splintered on the ocean floor, crew turned to ghosts to haunt the waters.

They say he made a deal, sold his soul, sold his crew’s souls, will find his reckoning one day at the end of a sword or drowned in the sea he loves so much. They say he’s a devil of his own, that his eyes glow red and black and his teeth are sharp and fanged, nails clawed, that he slaughters innocents and bathes in their blood.

But the truth is much simpler. Captain Munson is no devil, he did not sell any souls, and he certainly isn’t blessed by any god.

Captain Munson fell in love.

He didn’t mean to. When the fishing nets are reeled in that fateful day he expects nothing more than a few meals, a couple pounds to send to the kitchens for Benny to work his magic with. He isn’t even on deck when the catch is brought in.

It’s Gareth’s frantic voice that draws him upwards, his shouting and knocking on his cabin door that has him strapping a sword to his hip before taking the stairs two at a time to see the threat.

He’s expecting a King’s ship. Maybe another pirate.

He isn’t expecting a mer.

Pale, unconscious, bleeding, sprawled on the deck, plush and soft and gorgeous, tan torso tapering down into a huge, shimmering tail. He’s breathing but it’s shallow, weak, a shell on a necklace moving faintly with each hitch of his chest.

And the crown. A simple circlet, golden and shining, tangled in his chestnut hair, gems glinting from the locks.

Mers are mythical, believed to be stories by some and history by others, but Eddie grew up hearing the tales of them every night from his mother, and the evidence is right in front of them - how can they do anything but believe?

It takes three of them to move him below deck. Eddie grips him under his arms, Gareth supports his hips, and Jeff wrangles his tail. They take him to Eddie’s quarters, the only bed big enough to fit him.

He wakes in stages, delirious from pain, snapping teeth and swinging claws when he has the strength for it and slurring rambling words when he doesn’t, head lolling on the pillow, eyes rolling back.

His injuries are strange - a band of dark bruising around his pretty throat, his back shredded, bites taken out of the dips of his sides and the meat of his tail. There’s sickness in him, but Joyce is patient. She patches him up, soothes the mer’s fever and stitches the wounds she can, bandages what she can’t, keeps it all clean, keeps it wet because apparently that’s what he needs - salt water, which makes Eddie cringe in sympathy, but only seems to ease the mer’s pain, not make it worse.

It’s a week before those pretty eyes blink open with genuine awareness in them, sharp and wary. Eddie’s taken to sitting at the mer’s side, feels a strange responsibility to him that he doesn’t want to look too closely at, and he glances up from his journal to find the other’s gaze locked on him.

“Where am I?” he croaks out, and Eddie smiles, snapping the journal shut.

“You’re aboard the Hellfire, sweetheart. Captain Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows in his seat, and it goes over about as well as he thought it would.

There’s a lot of threats and snarling and cursing, but Eddie simply leans back, out of the mer’s reach as he crowds himself into the corner of the mattress, back pressed to the wall and sheets tangled around his tail.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he tries to soothe, and the mer scoffs. Eddie can’t blame him for his caution, but he tells him the honest truth - where he was found, the state of him, how they’ve nursed him back to health.

The mer’s hand hovers over one of the nastier wounds at his side, covered in gauze, dampened with saltwater. When he cuts his eyes back to Eddie there’s a little less animosity in his gaze, and Eddie will take what he can get.

Eventually he pulls a name from that snarling mouth. Stephan. “Prince Stephan,” he begrudgingly admits once Eddie points out the crown that he’d gently worked free of his hair.

And he’s a mer, but different.

“Siren, is what I believe your kind calls mine,” Stephan says, “half and half. Mer and human.”

“Human,” Eddie muses, and Stephan confesses, warily, haltingly - he’s the King’s bastard son. Born to King Richard of the land and the Mer Queen of the sea.

“And how did the Prince of the Mer find his way into my net, hm?” Eddie asks, smiling, and Stephan rolls his eyes at him.

He’s a runaway. King Richard had come looking for his son and with his mother’s blessing Stephan abandoned his title, his home, because the King would find him eventually if he stayed, and whatever dangers he might face in the open sea would be nothing compared to what the King might use his gifts for.

“Gifts?” Eddie asks, and Stephan smiles, his pointed teeth glinting.

It’s a clear day, not a cloud to be seen, no sign of rain or bad weather. And yet as Steve begins to hum softly, a shadow crosses overhead.

It happens slowly. Stephan’s voice builds, a wordless little melody, something melancholy and soft, and the sky beyond the windows of the cabin darkens. Thunder rolls and in the distance, Eddie can see a crack of lightning.

The ship rocks as waves begin to form, the once-smooth water taking a turn. Eddie can hear the crew above deck begin to shout to one another, confusion building, growing more insistent as Stephan’s song grows, and Eddie’s stomach drops.

The siren’s voice is haunting, terrifying. Eddie’s frozen in place, meeting his eyes even as tears well in his own. He’s transfixed, can’t move, can’t speak, paralyzed with some ancient, instinctual knowing of danger, of death.

Eddie does not scare easy. But this is terror personified. This is the true threat that lives in the sea. Not the waves, not man, this. This creature who smiles at him with sharp teeth and a haunting voice, reaching towards Eddie with a clawed hand, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear in a touch that makes Eddie’s skin crawl and his heart skip and dread sink into his very bones.

He’s staring death in the face, and death is smiling.

Then Stephan quiets, and it’s over as quickly as it had begun. The sky clears in moments. The waters calm. The vessel’s heaving calms, and Eddie’s spine unlocks.

He stares at the being before him, amazed, before a slow, brilliant smile breaks over his face.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you, Prince Stephan?” he asks, and gets a smile in return.

“Call me Steve,” he tells him, and fondness begins to worm its way into Eddie’s chest.

“Then call me Eddie.” He sees Steve’s eyes flutter, and he tilts his head. “You’re tired,” he tells him, and gets a huff in response. “You’re safe here, Steve,” he tells him, and he knows he doesn’t trust him, not fully, not yet, but that’s okay. “Rest. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Steve watches him warily, but clearly the little display has worn him out. His hand finds that same wound on his side, cradling it carefully, back shifting like it hurts to sit up straight and stretch all that marred skin.

“Lay a hand on me, and I’ll eat you,” Steve warns, and Eddie snorts a laugh.

“Whatever you say, highness,” and he tugs the sheets back into place over that large tail, and lets the mer get the rest he still clearly needs.

part 2 coming soon 💕 no tag lists, sorry!

#steddie #mermay #merman steve harrington #siren steve harrington #pirate eddie munson #stevexeddie #steve/eddie #mine

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

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Ok, so Astarion is doomed to relive all these horrible memories of tortures, inflicted by Cazador.

He is an elf, he doesn't dream. He meditates to re-live his past and there is only pain for Astarion.

But ever since he became free, he starts collecting good memories and tries to re-live them.

Feeling the sunshine on his skin. After the tadpole is gone, it has a special meaning to him.

Seeing Tav for the first time. He mentiones he saw them on the ship from the distance. I bet he will want to re-live this memory over and over again.

The first hunt in the woods- that boar will have a special place in his memory.

Of course, drinking Tav's blood for the first time - and, probably, getting aroused by this.

The date night, of course. Even if he feels bad about his intentions, it's still the first sex he indulged willingly and the first sex with Tav.

They travel through the mountains - it's a very beautiful place on its own.

Getting in the river first time in centuries.

The first hug from Tav.

The nights when they talked and cuddled with each other.

Maybe, he would love to re-live the revenge - the moments he killed Cazador.

Graveyard date.

Aftercare post-graveyard. I HC they went to bath together to wash away dirt from their skin.

Sure, the burning in the sunlight isn't a pleasant memory but reunion with Tav after is.

After that even if some days aren't good, he still has a lot to engrave in his mind.

Maybe, reading a book to Tav or listening about their own life.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion brainrot #astarion imagine #astarion angst #astarion fluff

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 5 months

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Crawl Home To Her

Ship: Astarion x fem!Tav/reader

Summary: As awful the feeling of blood on the skin is, sometimes it can be helpful, you have to admit. At least, when it comes to Astarion, blood is always helpful. You'll have to take his word for it—and that's oh so easy bathing with him.

Word Count: 5,461 words

Warnings: sexual content (18+) blood, gore, nudity, sexual & non-sexual touching, bathing each other, soft Astarion, established relationship, brief mention of past sexual encounter, dealing with past trauma, teasing from Karlach, mention of dismemberment, fluff & smut mix

18+ Warnings: brief fingering (f receiving), tiny bit of a hair kink, sensual touching, semi-public sex/nudity

Note: Part 2 of Burns Like Rum is coming soon! But here's a little something to tithe you over until the sequel (Sweet Like Rum) is ready!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Shafts of pale sunlight fell on your face as you walked through the forest, your arms swinging at your sides, small critters running amok in the bushes around you. Birdsong filled your ears, pleasantly light and summery, reminding you distantly of a childhood memory you couldn't quite reach. The weather was warm enough that you were thinking you might have to change into something lighter. The few weapons you had on you were already starting to make you break out into a sweat.

For a day that had started with murder, the weather was surprisingly nice.

You hummed as you walked—the song pulled from your childhood, the words long forgotten but pieces of the melody clunking around in your head. You strung them together the best you could, tapping out a rhythm against your leg.

You were on your way to the waterfall you'd spotted several days ago while hunting. It was small and nothing too violent. The pool it fell into wasn't deep enough to drown you, nor was the flow of water all that fast. You trusted it—and the rock ledge behind it—would suit your purposes quite nicely.

Coming upon the pool was like stepping into one of the fairytales you had heard in your youth, sitting upon your father's knee in a tavern, listening to a traveller tell a story you weren't sure was entirely true.

It was guarded by willow trees with branches that swayed in a breeze you hadn't felt until you came upon them. Pushing the curtain of branches away revealed an almost perfectly circular clearing, the ground covered in vibrant green moss that squished delightfully beneath your feet and sprung back up when you stepped off of it. Patches of flowers sprouted all around, pink and yellow and purple blooms that grew up to the sun. The pool was as blue as the sky above, clear and shallow, surrounded by a few feet of soft white sand. The water shimmered in the sunlight, rippling over the pebbles that covered its floor. From the pool, the water flowed into a thin river that could hardly be called a river and out into the woods.

You sat by the pool's edge and pulled off your boots. They were just as bloody as the rest of you, the sticky and quickly drying substance staining the black leather. You splashed water over them and scrubbed with a cloth you had designated for this purpose that had once been grey.

Only after your boots were clean did you stand back up and step into the soft sand. You wiggled your toes, smiling at the feeling. You breathed in the crisp, sweet air. It smelled faintly of flowers and citrus, a scent that was familiar, though you couldn't place it.

You stripped slowly, hissing and wincing as you tugged at the places where blood had stuck the fabric to your skin. It acted like glue when dry, staining your skin and leaving a mottled pattern across your flesh. The fabric of your shirt had grown stiff with semi-dried blood.

One by one, you pulled off belts and straps holding weapons, the gloves you protected your hands with, your shirt, your trousers—until you were standing naked at the pool's edge. You gave yourself a cursory inspection, searching for any wounds you had acquired in the fighting this morning that you hadn't noticed; it wouldn't be the first time you'd walked away from a fight and realized you were injured only hours later. But, this time, there was nothing.

Usually it was Astarion who noticed you were injured, catching your smell in the air when it shouldn't have been. But you were drenched in so much blood already that you imagined it would have been very hard to pick out your distinct scent.

You waded into the pool, taking your clothes with you, and sat at it's deepest point. Standing, it reached your knees; sitting, it almost came to your shoulders. You scrubbed the blood from your clothes, using the soap you had brought with you.

You watched the blood and soap swirl together in the water and flow toward the river, a thin stream of red and bubbles slipping away from the crimson cloud surrounding you. You almost felt bad to ruin the clarity of the water, but the others—back at camp—were taking far too long to wash the blood from themselves with your limited store of water. This was better, in the long run.

Astarion would have a field day with this if this wasn't goblin blood, you thought to yourself, staring at the blood drifting just below the surface. He would drink it, from time to time, but never happily.

You scrubbed at your clothes until your fingers were stiff and sore and the blood was no longer coming out of the fabric. You inspected them and deemed them clean enough to put back on the moss, spread out so they would dry faster.

To clean yourself, you headed toward the waterfall. You climbed up onto the stone ledge behind it, reveling in the surprisingly gentle spray of water that reached you and the stillness of the water that it fell into, high enough to reach your knees.

You stepped under the water. It cascaded over you, dousing you in its coolness that reminded you of the first time Astarion had ever touched you—

—gentle hands, cascading down your sides—fingers lifting your chin so you would meet his gaze—a kiss to your forehead—a hand on the small of your back—his lips on your own, warmer than you had anticipated—his fingers in your hair, keeping your head off the ground—his hand slipping between your legs—his little giggle when you shuddered beneath him—the pleasured sigh from his lips as he slid inside of you—

Stepping out from underneath the water, you shook your head, banishing the memory. You had spoken recently about all of this. He'd told you, "I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex." He'd said, "I don't want to be just a body for you, darling." And though he'd teased you that you were more than welcome to "sustain yourself" (his words) with your memories of him while he took time away from intimacy, some part of you still felt like you violating his wishes any time it was his body that you thought of, rather than of, well, just him.

You wiped the water from your eyes and knew your tears had mixed in with it; Astarion had been very vulnerable with you, so you knew his reasons for it all. You had two responses: either unbearable sorrow that he had been forced to endure it all (which the current cause of the crushing weight in your chest), or blinding rage that birthed the desire to see Cazador's head on a spear.

You carded your hands through your wet hair, trying to work out the tangles. Your fingers came away covered in watery blood.

"Mind if I join you?"

You jumped, eyes flying open, and looked up. Leaning against the stone wall was the vampire himself, a gentle smile on his face. Gods, how you loved that smile. In this light, you couldn't tell his eyes were red and his fangs were hidden. If you didn't pay attention to how pale he was, you could imagine he was just an elf again—the life he deserved.

Astarion still wore his clothes, which were slowly darkening as they soaked up the spray of water and splattered with as much blood as his handsome face, but his boots were placed neatly next to yours on the moss. He'd cleaned them already; how had you not heard him before?

While he waited for your answer, aware of your admiring gaze on him, he pulled his shirt off over his head, mussing the curls you loved so much. He stripped quickly, nearly falling over when his trouser leg caught on his foot, and left his clothes in a pile on the rock ledge. Perhaps you were imagining things, but his skin looked paler than it had this morning, when you'd been rudely awoken by a horde of goblins invading your camp.

You held your arms open to him. "I'd like that very much."

He stepped into your arms, wrapped his own around your waist, and buried his head in your neck, breathing in deeply. "My love," he whispered, his lips against your skin. He kissed your neck softly and pulled away, cupping your face in his hand, to look into your eyes. "Are you alright?"

You nodded. "I'm okay."

"No injuries this time?" Astarion's eyes slid down your naked body, examining, his gaze concerned when it had once been sensual. You felt yourself relax in his arms, at ease with his concern. It felt real, honest in a way you hadn't had a chance to be yet. It was natural, somehow, to be checking each other for injuries in the time you finally caught together, away from the others.

"Not this time," you said, leaning into him. More watery blood dripped from your hair and across his chest, leaving streaks that made it look like he'd just returned from a rather messy feeding.

He kissed the top of your wet head. "Good." He leaned away to smile at you. "I was worried you'd run off to take care of your injuries by yourself, if only to keep me from smelling the blood."

You shook your head. "If only we'd been attacked by something you could drink from, satisfy your hunger for a few days." He smiled weakly and you knew the thought had been on his mind, too. "What about you? Are you okay?"

He spread his arms and did a little twirl for you. You giggled at his antics, glancing over his skin, pleased he was comfortable enough to even be naked with you. "Yes, darling. Not a scratch on me."

The two of you looked at each other, your hair already damp and clinging to your head, and his curls slowly being matted down by the thick mist of the waterfall. His ears poked out, more noticeable than normal.

Astarion bent and picked up your bar of soap. "May I help you wash off all this grime?"

"Please," you said, your voice soft but as loving as you could make it, your eyes fixed firmly on his.

He lathered his hands with soap and scrubbed gently at your skin. His nails, kept trimmed and neat, were hardly more than a light sensation as he worked at the dried blood until it crumbled away from your skin and ran down your body in red rivulets. His touch was soft, caring where it had once been lustful and groping. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his fingers digging into your tired muscles, and held him. You adjusted your hold on him as he moved across your body—an arm draped across his shoulders, a hand on his bicep, your fingers against his chest, your head on his shoulder.

You looked up at Astarion, blinking quickly to keep the water out of your eyes. His gaze remained fixated on your hips as he gently washed off the blood, but he smiled, aware of your stare.

"See something you like?" he asked, tone playful.

"Someone I love," you corrected. He looked up at you, a tender smile growing on his lips. "Someone I love dearly." You leaned close, cupped one side of his face, and kissed the other. "I love you, Astarion."

He kissed your cheek, too. "And I love you." His lips found yours. He kissed you with a sweetness that simultaneously broke your heart and mended it. You wrapped your arms around his waist. He hummed happily into your mouth and cradled the back of your neck.

The pair of you fell into a tight embrace. You felt the adrenaline drain from you and leave you limp in his arms, your hot skin going cold under the water. Despite how suddenly you must have slumped against him, Astarion held you with ease. He gave the crown of your head a quick kiss, then made an unpleasant sound of surprise from the back of his throat.

"Darling, do you mind if I wash your hair? There's an awful lot of goblin blood in it."

You forced yourself to stand up straight on your own, still holding his sides for support. "Oh, yes—that would be from Karlach throwing one she'd just chopped into over my head." Even as you said the words, you felt the blood splattering into your hair again and shuddered.

Astarion grimaced. "Let me help you with it, then." He lathered his hands and put them in your hair. As he fell into a rhythm, you closed your eyes and let him doing the work, your thoughts drifting...

At first, you weren't sure why you had even woken in the first place. The light coming in through a crack in the tent's opening was still the watery and grey color of pre-dawn, much earlier than you usually woke. You frowned and pushed back into Astarion, his arm squeezing you tighter, sleep once again tugging at your eyelids.

And then you heard a shout, vicious and loud. It was close to camp, maybe even in camp. The shout came again and you realized it was Lae'zel's war cry.

All at once, the sounds of a battle filled your ears. You jerked awake in an instant, clambering onto your knees and shaking Astarion awake next to you. Of course the one day Astarion decided to indulge in the very human activity of sleep was the day you and your friends were attacked.

"What's going on?" he mumbled as his eyes flickered open, his words slurred together.

"Come on, grab your knives," you said, pulling your lightest set of armor on over your clothes. You were suddenly very relieved Astarion had decided skin to skin contact was a bit too much for him last night. "I think we're under attack."

He woke just as quickly as you had. He swore, dragged a quick hand through his hair, and grabbed his knives. He waited until you had your own weapon in hand before he opened the curtain flap of his tent.

The camp was a sight to behold. Already it was trashed and overflowing with goblins. Some were already on the ground, their blood oozing everywhere in the dirt and grass. Gashes from Lae'zel's sword seeped blood and gristle, if she hadn't horribly disfigured the corpses and turned them into little more than lumps of flesh. Many of them bore scorch marks that ranged from minor burns to melting flesh. It smelled horrendous and nearly acidic; you bit back the bile in your throat.

A dismembered arm fell at your foot. You kicked it away on instinct, looking up to see Karlach ripping a second goblin limb from limb.

"Now that's just vile," Astarion said, still looking at the arm, a fang poking out over his curled lip.

"Complain about it later," you said, grabbing his chin and giving him a quick and customary 'good morning' kiss. "We've got to help the others."

"If you insist."

Astarion ran to Karlach's side; you headed for Shadowheart and Gale. Wyll was approaching, too, cutting a path through the goblins.

"Morning, you two!" you said cheerily. "How'd this happen?"

"We're not sure," Shadowheart said, kicking a goblin in the face as it ran at her with a scream. "Lae'zel said they came from the north, just over those hills."

"Odd. I wonder if we camped too close to them for their liking, and now they're trying to do something about it. Are goblins territorial creatures?"

Gale grunted, casting another fireball. "Enough chatting. Let's just kill these things and figure out where they came from and why later. Got it?"

"Fair enough," you decided. "Whoever kills the most chooses dinner for a week."

"I'll take you up on that," Wyll said from behind you. "I'm dreaming of a good meal for once."

Astarion's hands sliding out of your hair abruptly brought you back to reality, to his body pressed against yours and the waterfall at your back, shielding the two of you from the world.

"Where'd you go?" he asked, voice soft. You could feel his fingers toying with the ends of your hair, curling it on his fingers.

"Back to the fight," you admitted. "I just keep wondering how they snuck up on us."

"No matter now," he said. "We'll let Lae'zel criticize us all for not anticipating every possible disaster when we get back, but not yet. Not here."

He went back to massaging your scalp, despite the blood being long gone, and your sighed happily. He smiled and kissed your forehead, adding pressure. A content whimper slipped from your lips and you blushed instantly as his eyes lit up; he'd heard far more obscene from you, yet still the slightest sounds you made embarrassed you and delighted him.

"My, my, the noises you make for me, lover," he teased, giggling. He wrapped his hand in your hair and tugged, hard enough to draw a loud moan out of your chest.

Astarion covered your mouth with his hand, his eyes playfully wide. "Shhh, unless you want the others to come looking. We're not that far away from camp."

Heat rushed through your body. "Oh, gods, Astarion, I'm— I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to— And I certainly didn't expect it to be that...that loud—! I..."

He swallowed your frantic apologies with a kiss. Against your lips, he whispered, "If you can keep quiet, though...I can grant you all the pleasure you want. You need only ask, darling."

Your heart skipped several beats in your chest. You put your hand up to his face. "Oh, I don't... Star, I don't need you to, I wouldn't want you to...feel obligated." He pulled his forehead away from yours to see your face. "We agreed not to do anything until you're ready. And that wasn't that long ago, so... I don't want you to be uncomfortable—"

Astarion cupped your chin with his hand, dragging his thumb across your lower lip. The words died in your throat. He met your gaze, his crimson eyes open and honest, and said, "Your pleasure is a gift. Even if I don't want to be touched yet, that's not stopping me from touching you. Only you can stop me from touching you."

"Star..."

He pulled you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around him, suddenly too aware of the raised scar you felt against your arms. "I trust you. Wholeheartedly. I trust you to...to respect my boundaries. To check in with me. To see when I'm uncomfortable. You've already done it, again and again, and proved that you're worthy of that trust. And do I look uncomfortable now?"

You studied him. His pupils were blown. His eyes told a story of contentment. The tenseness you had once noticed laying deep and dormant in his muscles was gone. He looked at you with a fondness you realized now was a profound trust and he stood utterly relaxed in your arms.

So you answered him honestly. "No."

"Exactly, darling. I'm not uncomfortable. I want to do this for you, if that's what you also want. I feel...safe with you. I've never felt like this around anyone before," he admitted, a bit of sadness creeping onto his face, "and I don't want to ruin it. I don't know... I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm going to try to do right by you. So if you want me..." He placed his hand low on your abdomen. Your stomach did flips. He put his lips against the shell of your ear. "Tell me, darling, because I certainly want you. All I ask is that you not touch me, not just yet."

You whimpered. "Please, Star. I promise not to touch you, I promise. But please touch me."

"That's my girl," he whispered. "Spread your legs for me, no need to be so nervous."

You readjusted your stance, widening the space between your previously clenched thighs. His hand filled the gap, cupping you gently. You sighed, leaning your head against his chest again, looking down to watch his ministrations.

Astarion pressed his palm to your clit. You watched his wrist move as he slid his fingers along your slit, teasing you and never quite touching you where you needed him. You whimpered as his fingertip lightly ghosted your entrance, just barely dipping inside before he moved his hand back up, his fingers toying with your clit.

"That's it," he whispered in your ear. "Make those quiet, pretty sounds for me. Show me how you feel."

You rocked your hips against his hand. "Astarion, please..."

He kissed your temple. "Feeling good?"

Your broken moan was your answer. He chuckled, sliding his hand up your side, taking your breast in the palm of his hand. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you gasp and buck your hips against him. He closed his lips around it and sucked gently.

"More," you whispered. "Please. I need...I need you."

"Alright, darling, alright," he said against your skin. He rubbed your entrance for another moment, then slid his finger inside you. You clenched down on him as you sighed your pleasure. He curled his finger inside you, rubbing away at your walls, and you gasped loudly.

Astarion grinned. "Make those noises. Moan for me. I want you to show me how good this feels, show me you want me." You gripped tightly onto him, one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his hip. Your breaths grew heavy and your whimpers louder. "Yes, that's it! Be loud for me, my sweet, the loudest you've ever—"

A branch cracked in the forest. A voice called out your name, then Astarion's. You jumped a mile and Astarion's finger slipped out of you. You stared at each other with wide eyes.

"D...did you hear that?" you asked. "Or am I hearing things?"

As if an answer, the voice—Gale's—shouted again, "I know you're over here, I can see your boots!"

"Shit," Astarion sighed. He craned his head to peer around the curtain of water. "What the hells do you want?"

"Is she with you?" Gale asked. "Shadowheart sent me to find you both, the rest of us have all finished washing up! There's water left for you."

"That's what we're trying to do, Gale!" you called, reaching an arm through the waterfall and waving at him. "Use the water for something else, we'll make do here."

He harrumphed. "If I had known this was just a few minutes away from camp, I would have come to wash up here ages ago."

You and Astarion exchanged a look. So much for a secret getaway spot.

"Be back soon, or Karlach will start worrying," Gale said, in the tone of a chiding parent. "And no funny business!"

"Oh, shut up!" Astarion shouted, the tips of his ears turning a deep pink. He ducked behind the water again and holding you close. You barely held back your giggles while the two of you listened for Gale to walk away. One slipped out and Astarion hurriedly covered your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm and he pulled it away quickly. "You weirdo!"

You wrapped your arms around him and leaned into his chest. "Yes, but I'm your weirdo. You love me anyway."

Astarion pushed a strand of your wet hair behind your ear. "I love you anyway," he admitted, with a fondness that turned you into mush in his arms. He held you close for several moments, then asked, "Do you want me to continue?"

You thought about it, then shook your head. "Not just now. I suspect Karlach will be on her way to investigate the waterfall I didn't have the decency tell anyone about very soon."

"Very well," he said. "I'll finish you off later in my tent, then. As long as you can keep quiet for me, darling." He gave you that charming smile that made your stomach do flips.

"I thought you liked me loud," you teased.

Astarion rolled his eyes, playful and flirtation in such a comfortable way that it warmed your heart more than any of his touches ever could, delightful as they were. "Only when I have you all to myself, lover." He nipped at your neck, his fangs scratching but not breaking your skin. "Your moans are mine."

You stood together like that for several more moments, his hands on your hips and your arms looped around his neck, your foreheads pressed together. You exchanged dainty kisses, basking in each other in the few minutes left you had alone.

At last, you planted one firm, lingering kiss to his lips. "Let me clean you off," you said. "Though you're going to have to crouch for me to get your hair." Most of the blood and grime had been washed away by the waterfall's spray, but his silver hair was still speckled with it all, and you could taste it on his lips—sour and gritty. No wonder he only drank from goblins as a last resort.

Astarion bent his head down, pressing his forehead into your shoulder and holding you by the waist. You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and smiling (but saying nothing) every time your touch managed to pull a soft whimper or moan from him without him realizing it.

You washed his body anyway, wiping away the remaining grime and massaging his muscles. You enjoyed the way he relaxed in your arms, quietly asking for more or less pressure.

"My back," he said, voice quiet and almost timid. "Can you...?"

"Are you sure?" you asked, frowning.

He nodded and turned in your arms, exposing his back to you. You started slowly, massaging his upper back and shoulders before working your way down, giving him plenty of time to tell you to stop if he needed to. But he leaned into your touch and responded with more of those gentle and timid—but happy—sounds.

You kissed the nape of his neck when you were finished, rested your head against his back, and wrapped your arms around his waist. His hands found yours and laced your fingers together.

"Thank you, my love," he said. "I've never... No one has ever done that for me before."

You hugged him tighter. "Any time you need me—I'm here. I will always be here." You stepped away and guided him out of the water with a hand. "Come on, we should head back."

The pair of you helped each other dress, though neither of you were wearing anything that required the help. You suspected Astarion just wanted to keep you close; when he got into his cuddly moods, it lasted for hours at a time. You would sleep wrapped up in your vampire's arms, safe and comfortable, tonight.

You were both pulling on your boots when Karlach found you.

"There you are!" she said. "Why didn't you tell us where you'd run off to?"

You shrugged. "I wanted the peace and quiet," you said honestly. "Besides, you all take forever to clean off."

Astarion snickered. "She's right about that."

Karlach sat on the moss, staring at the waterfall. "Well, you're right about one thing, soldier—this place is peaceful."

You hummed your agreement. "Yes. I'm glad we camped near it, or I never would have found it."

"How did you find this place?" she asked.

"Hunting," you said.

"Really? I assumed it must have been when you and Astarion sneak out so the rest of us can't hear you having sex." You choked on air and she laughed. "What? He found it easily!"

Astarion spluttered. "Because I could smell her!"

You sighed. "Karlach, we stopped sneaking off ages ago. We don't need to, we sleep in the same tent now. Rest assured, if anything is happening, it's happening silently and the rest of you are none the wiser to it."

"That doesn't make me rest assured."

You laughed. Astarion smiled at you, the kind of smile that made his eyes seem a little less dark and made you really remember that he was an elf.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm going back to camp," he said. "I'm sure there's much to discuss about these...impertinent creatures who keep attacking us." He kissed your cheek and whispered into your ear, "I'll see you tonight, darling. What we do is up to you."

Before he could leave, you reached over and held his cheek, kissing him firmly on the lips. He smiled into it.

"Lovebirds," Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes, "will you please get a room?"

"The next time we stop at an inn—yes," Astarion said, winked at you, then disappeared into the woods.

You gulped. "I pity whoever is in the room next to us."

Karlach snorted. "I pity you and your poor cervix!"

"Karlach!" You splashed her with water and she roared with laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Only slightly."

You huffed, scooped up your weapons, and started back to camp. Karlach followed.

"I mean, in all honesty, you two were so loud that first time we all heard you at camp, even though you snuck away. Kept us all awake, but you sounded like you were having a good time. So clearly he's doing something right, but can you take all of that every time? You were walking with a limp the next morning—"

"Okay, let's change the subject," you said loudly, heat racing through your body. Remembrance pulsed through you again, ghostly touches and reminders of just how easily Astarion made you scream.

She giggled. Gods, she was spending too much time with you and Astarion; he was rubbing off on her. "Oh, yes, because what would poor Gale say if he heard?"

You rolled your eyes. "It's not Gale I'm worried about, it's Astarion. If he hears you, he's going to become insufferable."

"Isn't he already?"

You whacked her with the flat end of your sheathed dagger. She laughed, putting her hands up in surrender.

The others were cleaning up camp when you arrived, scrubbing blood from tents and carpets and hauling away corpses and severed limbs.

Gale waved when he saw you, then jerked his thumb toward Astarion. "Didn't he just wash?"

You looked over at your vampire, only to find him feeding on a goblin. He looked up at you and grinned sheepishly, a trickle of blood sliding out of his mouth and down his neck.

"I just washed him, actually," you said dryly. "Astarion, you aren't that messy of an eater. What on earth are you doing?"

"Oh, so now you deign to eat the goblins," Karlach scoffed.

He shrugged. "What? I'm hungry!"

You spluttered. "You could have just asked me!"

Astarion wiped his mouth with a feral grin. "Well, I'll keep that in mind later, darling." He winked at you and then blew you a quick kiss. He shoved the carcass into the woods and went into his tent, closing the flap behind him.

Gale sighed heavily before looking back at you. "That one. Are you sure you want to choose that one?"

"Yes, Gale, I want that one."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

~❊~

Night fell. One by one, the others retired to their tents. Only Karlach and Gale remained awake when you left the fire and slipped into Astarion's tent.

He was laying on his side, reading and drinking blood, the picture of leisure. He closed his book immediately when you laid beside him and pulled you flush against his body.

"There you are," he said, snuggling into your shoulder. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming."

You reached up and dragged your fingers through his perfect curls. "You don't have to wonder about that ever, Star. As long as I live, I'll be coming home to you. Even if I have to crawl."

"Gods, I love you," he said, wrapping himself around you. You kissed the top of his head.

"I love you, too," you whispered. He sighed happily and cuddled into you, sliding one of his legs between your own and settling there. A few minutes later, you felt the pressure of his knee against your clothed crotch. "What are you doing, mister?"

He grinned at you, showing both fangs. "Finishing what I started," he said cheekily. He began undoing the lacing at the front of your pants. "Now, just lay still for me, dear. And please do your best to keep quiet—I'd hate to have to cover that pretty mouth with my hand. Again."

☞ ❊ ☜

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin

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bby-deerling · 6 months

Text

death's touch (zoro x reader nsfw)

zoro gets himself all jealous and worked up over nothing, smut ensues! afab!reader, same continuity as my other zoro x reader fics, but as always they can be read as standalones (i'll make a masterlist eventually...)

nsfw, 18+, mdni, wc 3.7k

cw for alcohol consumption, tipsy sex

Roronoa Zoro thought he knew what jealousy was. He had completely dismissed it as an irrelevant emotion, a brief needle prick at his heart when the curly-browed freak mooned over you. Like a mosquito bite, it was a brief annoyance that was forgotten as quickly as it came. So why did it bother him so deeply that Traffy was following you around the ship like a stray cat, lurking in your shadows?

He respected Trafalgar Law as a man, a reluctant drinking buddy, and even as a swordsman, but on the way from Dressrosa to Zou, he had gotten far too close with you for his comfort. For a man that was so often brooding and intense, it was strange to see him opening up and rambling to you about coins, or intensely discussing books the two of you had both read. He even was disrupting the usual morning rituals you shared; during breakfast when you, as usual, move to quietly snatch a few extra pieces of bacon from his plate, Zoro grabs your wrist and teasingly calls you a gremlin. Before he can drop the façade, cave to the power of your mischievous grin and throw you his scraps, the surgeon had already quietly slid a few pieces of his own onto your plate.

It didn’t help that the two of you had toned down your already limited public displays of affection in an attempt to hide your relationship from Law; after all, he was a temporary ally. However, as a side effect, Zoro was barely sleeping, restless without you pressed against him. He had become accustomed to entangling your limbs together and napping out on the deck at least twice a day, and he was missing it like hell. Only getting to drown himself in the comfort of your skin at nights while the two of you kept watch was beginning to slowly drive him insane.

The rest of the crew thought you were fighting; the rumor had started as an observation from Nami at the abnormal distance you two were keeping over the past few days, followed by Usopp blowing it out of proportion and spreading it around to other members of the crew. The mere notion offended Zoro. The two of you were so in tune with each other’s needs that you had never even gotten into so much as an argument. Rare feelings of irritation that cropped up were fixed with a rough sparring session, voicing your feelings without words and smoothing them over with massages and long, relaxing baths. You two simply understood each other, as deeply as two people possibly could. So why was Traffy always staring at you with that glint in his eyes as if he knew exactly what was swirling around in your beautiful mind?

His chest nearly bursts as he stares at you sitting next to him at the bar, the glow of the aquarium casting a soft blue hue on your face. You speak, but the blood in his head pounds so loud that he doesn’t catch the name of the drink you request from the cook. He’s about to lean in and tease you about the hangover you’ll inevitably have the next day, the one you get every time the idiot cook serves you these fruity cocktails, but Law beats him to it, rambling in his usual dry monotone about the health effects of sugary alcoholic drinks. Zoro clenches his jaw in annoyance, even though he knows damn well if you were telling him the exact same information he would’ve been completely engrossed in the conversation.

Sanji whispers something in your ear as he slides your drink across the bar; it’s a cosmopolitan—one of your favorites. Preferring to drink his sake straight, he only bothers learning the name of cocktails that you like, since he knows he’ll have to figure out how to make them for you some day when the shitty cook isn’t around to wait on you hand and foot.

“For the last time, we’re not fighting, blondie!” he hears you hiss at the cook, drinking about half of your carefully crafted drink in one swig. No matter how hard you tried, you could never manage to drink slowly, which often led to you throwing up until your entire body was left shaking. He catches himself wondering if Traffy would still be enamored with you if he had to deal with you puking over the side of the boat. Would the surgeon find your futile endeavors to match the pace of someone twice your size endearing in the same way that he did? Given Law’s usual intolerance for goofy antics and drunken shenanigans, probably not.

Zoro’s train of thought is broken when you swing around on your bar stool to face him, slotting your legs in between his, then spreading them slightly to make sure your thighs were pressed together. If you were both sober, he would’ve had the willpower to only allow the touch to go on for a few moments before pulling away, but his current haze of liquor and envy made him feel like he had something to prove. A lovestruck smile was plastered across your face, staring up dreamily at him. Heart on your sleeve, he appreciated that your emotions were always unabashedly raw, open, and on display; it saved him a lot of guesswork and allowed you to talk without speaking in your own secret, silent language.

It also fed his ego tremendously that just the thought of him had you so worked up that it was shamelessly written all over your face.

“Tipsy yet, lil’ demon?” he murmurs lowly to you, already knowing the answer. The right amount of alcohol in your system always turned you into a tease.

“Mhm!” you hum; satisfaction blooms in his chest when your face flushes bright red at the sound of his voice. Mischief laces your eyes as you ask, “Got any sake for me tonight?”

Zoro knew the game you were playing very well, but he couldn’t help but fall for it every time. Small whispers laced with innuendo and tiny, teasing little touches that appeared innocent on the surface slowly escalated until one of you couldn’t help yourselves anymore; he had a feeling he was going to be the one to give in first tonight despite the risk involved.

“Not yet.” he teased, sliding your drink closer to you. “Finish this one first and maybe I’ll think about giving it to you.” Your wanting gaze never breaks from his steel grey eye, completely transfixed on his cocky grin; your thighs press even closer to his, amusing yourself at the way the swordsman was already unraveling with such a subtle touch. Zoro’s hand starts to move, intending to discretely trace his fingers across your thigh. Uncharacteristically he found himself not caring who saw, and perhaps hoping that a certain surgeon was staring.

Then, all of a sudden, you’re gone, whisked away to dance with Nami as Brook belts out one of the navigator’s favorite songs. Even with the liquor in your system you have two left feet, but Nami is also too tipsy to judge and simply takes the lead instead. Zoro scowls as the navigator sticks her tongue out and winks at him as she spins you around and pulls you close; he had a feeling she intended to make him suffer tonight for his "wrongdoings" in the completely fictional fight that her and Usopp had concocted in their own minds.

At some point, to your delight, Luffy cuts in, grabbing you and swinging you around. Neither of you are moving in a way that truly qualifies as dancing as per usual; it’s more holding hands and slinging each other across the room with his rubbery arms than anything else. You’re grinning from ear to ear and laughing so hard your sides ache until Luffy slings you a bit too far and accidentally lets go of your hands, hurtling you towards the aquarium tank. Robin spawns a huge hand behind the bar to catch you; however, the collision never comes.

“Room.”

“Shambles.”

A paper napkin gently flutters in the air on its way to the floor, and you’re in Law’s lap, dizzy at the sudden change in acceleration and direction. As soon as you snap out of your disoriented state and realize where you are, you slip off of his thighs and to your feet, but when you try to walk away, you feel a hand at your waist, presumably to stabilize you.

“Be more careful, ____-ya.” he rumbles in your ear as his precise, tattooed fingers teasingly tap the bare skin of your side underneath your cropped shirt, one by one. He does it so smoothly that Zoro wonders if you even registered it.

One, two, three, four, five. Five inked fingers trying to mark his woman, overflowing with light and warmth, with the sick touch of death. Five fingers dig into Zoro’s bottle of sake, one by one, poking holes in the bottle; he sighs and sloppily chugs the rest of the spirits flowing out from the broken bottle as Luffy, Usopp and Franky cheer. He doesn’t dare look up at Sanji as he slams the empty bottle on the table—the last thing he needs to see right now is that twirly-browed cook giving him a shit-eating grin, or worse, having to hear his whiny voice taunt him.

Instead, his glance ends up meeting Nami’s, something he immediately regrets upon seeing the absolutely evil look on her face as she approaches.

“Apple pie shots!” she demands. Zoro sighs in relief. That didn’t sound too bad. She calls you over, insisting her shot was first. She leans her head back against the bar, mouth open as you and Zoro take turns pouring pieces of the recipe in. Vanilla vodka, apple cider, a smidge of cinnamon, finished off with a squirt of whipped cream and swished together in her mouth. Her thumb runs across her lips, and she slurps up the excess whipped cream with a pop, nearly killing Sanji from blood loss in the process as she trades places with you.

Zoro can barely focus as he helps Nami pour the same concoction into your mouth. One of his hands gently strokes the side of your face, brushing stray strands of hair away from your mouth as a feeble excuse to touch you. He had planned it all out in his head, strategically placing his fingers so he could catch the spare whipped cream from your lips on his thumb, but Nami somehow beats him to it.

“You witch!” he hissed under his breath.

“Better luck next time, Zoro!” she teases. “Maybe if you apologize to her about whatever you’re fighting about, I’ll let you get away with it next time.”

“We’re not fighting!” Zoro exclaims, frustrated. He glances over at you, lost in your own world, head still on the table and buzzing with the pleasant rush of alcohol, a dopey smile on your face.

“Yeah right! You’ve both been acting weird since we got back on the ship. And I just know it’s your fault!” Nami replies, pointing at the swordsman, making him roll his eyes.

Her hands wave in front of your face to get your attention, and you sit up with a smile. “Want another?” she asks. “I bet I can get Law to pour for you if you want!”

Blood floods into the swordsman's ears as his head begins to pound, senses clouded; he entirely misses the longing stare you give him as Nami rambles on about something else that was probably meant to piss him off. Zoro nearly loses his temper. He wants to tell Nami to quit screwing around and interfering with something that’s none of her business, tell the insufferable idiot cook to stop giving him that smarmy look he keeps catching in his peripheral vision, and tell Trafalgar Law to keep his damn hands off his woman.

Before he can do anything but clench his jaw in frustration, your eyes widen before clamping your hand over your mouth and dashing out of the aquarium bar, headed up towards the deck—Luffy swinging you around like a makeshift amusement park ride probably didn’t do wonders to stabilize your stomach. He’s about to run after you, switch flipped in his brain as he prepares to spend the night taking care of you. However, he is stopped dead in his tracks by the navigator and the cook laughing hysterically.

“What’s so damn funny?” he asks, eye narrowed.

“I think that’s the worst excuse to sneak away that you guys have come up with yet.” Nami giggles, motioning to the empty space on the bar, puzzling the swordsman, staring blankly at the tabletop.

“Earth to idiot moss-head,” the cook says, waving his hands in front of the swordsman’s face, “she took the whipped cream with her.”

He knew you like the back of his hand and as a result, you rarely surprised him; however, he hadn't expected you to break first tonight, especially from such a small amount teasing.

Zoro’s out the door before he can catch a lecture from Sanji about wasting food.

As if. He’s never been more hungry in his life.

He’s fast, but you’re faster, slipping into the girls’ quarters, out of your clothes, and into your most revealing nightgown before he can catch up to you.

“Need you.” you whisper when he slams the door shut, locks it, and stalks towards you. “Need you so bad Zoro.”

“Need you too…” he murmurs as he backs you into the dresser, pressing his knee between your thighs and biting down on your neck. His tongue gently soothes the skin marked by his teeth, and he smirks when he hears you gasp.

Pulling back slightly, knee still firmly pressed between your legs, he gently taps your jaw with his fingertips and grabs the can of whipped cream. “Open up, pretty girl.” he whispers as you comply. He squirts some in your mouth, and you make a show of leaving more than usual on your lips.

“Messy girl… Can’t have you wasting food…” he teases as he licks the corner of your mouth.

Zoro tries so hard to not lose himself in the ecstasy of your lips and maintain his slow, teasing pace as he licks up every last bit of the sugary cream from around your mouth, but he just can’t help it when your slender fingers rake through his hair and pull him into you, tongues frantically mixing together. One of his hands caresses your face as he deepens the kiss, and the other trails up your thigh underneath your nightgown. You whine against his mouth as his hand nears, and then slips past where you need it most, rubbing circles into your hip bones with his thumb. His hand wanders further upward, gripping your waist. He presses his fingertips into your skin over and over again, trying frantically to scrub away the surgeon’s touch. You realize what he’s doing, and gently run your thumb across his jaw, prompting him to pull back and look into your eyes that were brimming with concern.

“I’ve had enough of the grim reaper hovering around you.” he rasps out.

He curses the fact that he knows his eye is giving his bleeding heart away; however, he knows his feelings would eventually present themselves to you in some other way. They always did, and you always received them with the dignity, care, and respect they deserved. He protected the crew with his body, but you were the only one who could be trusted to protect his heart and soul.

The next few exchanges you share are nonverbal.

Your hand falls to his shoulder, tracing soothing lines across his collarbone, still locking eyes with him. “Zoro, it’s not like that.”

His thumb gently strokes your cheek, gaze hardening. “I know. He still crossed a line.”

The light in your eyes dims slightly, eyebrows beginning to knit with worry. “I’m s—”

His lips slam against yours, intending to stop your train of thought in its tracks. “Don’t you dare apologize. Not when you’ve done nothing wrong. Not when you’re being so good for me.”

His grip on your waist gets stronger, still trying to wipe away Law’s touch as you both become consumed by each other. Mind fuzzy with the blend of alcohol and pleasure, Zoro feels absolutely drunk when he drops his hand downward and feels the pool of arousal already coating your thighs. Your moan vibrates against his mouth as he traces his index finger along your slit, causing you to buck your hips against him; for a demon, he feels awfully close to heaven as he turns you into a mess with his touch.

“Pretty girl… getting so wet for me…” he mumbled against your lips as he lifts your lower half off the ground; wrapping your legs around him tightly, he carries you to your bed.

Mouths still locked in an intense kiss, his hand goes back to teasing your core, fingers tracing the outline of your hole but pulling back before they can sink in. Lewd, muffled moans and pleas for him to bury his fingers inside of you rolled off your tongue, still tasting of whipped cream, booze, and a hint of cinnamon. Finally, he gives in and sinks a finger inside of you, making you gasp out. He’s painfully slow with his movements, and when he adds another finger and starts curling them upward, you’re a complete mess.

His thumb starts circling your clit, staying right where it should despite the way your hips shudder against his touch, desperate for more friction.

“The ink on his fingers is pretty, but there’s no way he could get you to fall apart like this, is there?” he whispers in your ear. A string of lewd, unintelligible sounds falls off your lips in response; he smirks knowing he’s got you close.

“Let go, pretty girl… cum for me…” he says in your ear, and smirks as the movement in your hips becomes erratic.

“That’s my girl…” he murmurs as your blood rushes to your cheeks, orgasm crashing like a wave across your body.

The moan you let out as he pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his cock nearly causes him to immediately spill into you, but he collects his composure, thumb continuing to circle your clit slowly and gently. You’re still twitching around him after coming so hard, but he’s determined to push you off the cliff again as he thrusts slowly and deeply inside you.

Pulling back from your lips to get a good look at your face, you have that dreamy look in your eyes again, and he knows he can’t hide it when he involuntarily mirrors your expression back at you.

“You’re mine, y’know that?” you smile, hand stroking his cheek reverently.

Zoro’s hand mirrors your action, in awe of the way you always seemed to be able to tame him, even when he thought he had control. “’Course I do.” he whispers back.

When he resumes his pace, the kisses he presses against your eager mouth and the teasing of your clit becomes more urgent, craving to feel you get off around his cock. Noticing you’re getting close, he flips you over onto your stomach, desperate to bury himself even deeper inside of you.

His breath is hot on your ear, and your strangled gasps are hot and humid as your face presses into your pillow. His pace picks up, both with his thrusts and his motions on your clit, nearly sending you over the edge.

“Who’s the only one that can fuck you like this?” he asks, his deep voice sending tingles through your whole body.

“You, Zoro…” you reply, words muffled by your pillow.

“Didn’t catch that,” he says, slowing down and causing you to whine and grind your hips against his hand, “say it again, babe.”

“Roronoa Zoro!” you cry out, making him groan and resume his former pace that had you so close.

“And what’s your name gonna be someday, pretty girl?” he asks, thrusts getting impossibly deeper as he starts to lose control.

“Roronoa ____…” you reply, voice nearly cracking from trying to hold back a moan.

“Damn right,” he rasps, “cause you’re my fucking girl.” The pressure of his fingers against your clit deepens, finally letting you come as your walls flutter around him. He’s not far behind, hips snapping frantically against yours as he paints your insides white.

“Love you.” he murmurs in your ear, collapsed on top of you with his cock still twitching inside you. “Love you so much.”

“Love you more.” you reply with a soft smile, twisting your head so you can plant a kiss on his cheek. “Love you more than anything.”

And you almost fall asleep like that, completely vulnerable with your souls intertwined in your cracked open ribs, until you feel a hand grab your ankle, making you shriek.

Zoro groans and quickly helps you clean up as you both dress, you putting on your nightgown, adding a much more modest robe on top, and him pulling his sweatpants back up, not bothering to put on a shirt. The disembodied hand demands a response from you: thumbs-up or thumbs down. You tilt its thumb up, and Robin unlocks the door and grabs a sweater from her dresser, stepping around your discarded clothes.

“I see you two have made up…” she says, smirking.

“We weren’t fighting!” you both protest simultaneously, causing the archaeologist to chuckle.

“Are you sure? Usopp was spinning quite the tale downstairs…” she continues; trying to weasel more information out of you.

“We were just trying to be discreet in front of our company.” you mumble.

Robin chuckles, hand covering her mouth, “Cat’s out of the bag now. I’ll ask Franky to fix the creak in your bed.” Both of your faces turn bright red as she leaves, mortified and embarrassed like you always were on the rare occasions you were caught in the act. While the crew all knew of your attachment to each other, you both preferred for anything more intimate than a kiss on the forehead to remain private when possible.

Alone once more, Zoro spins you around to face him, and places his forehead against yours as he holds you. The serene smile on your face is filled with love and peace, and he succumbs to the overwhelming urge to ignore your crewmates for the rest of the night, pull you close and keep you in his arms as long as possible.

The pangs of jealousy that had wormed their way into his skin earlier were long forgotten, rolling off him like one of the cook’s stupid insults. In fact, he caught himself feeling glad that Traffy had made a friend, despite his constant dismissal of most of the crew save for Robin. Especially a friend as loyal and understanding as you. Maybe you could even convince him to quit being so damn miserable and lighten up for once.

He almost laughs at the thought as he runs his fingers through your hair and presses aimless kisses along your jawline. That’s a tall order, even for a ball of sunshine like you.

#one piece x reader #x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece smut #mdni #18+ mdni #this was supposed to be short and sweet... then i couldn't stop writing...#zoros being kinda melodramatic here but blame it on the alcohol #obsessed with soft zoro sorry not sorry

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turtletaubwrites · 6 months

Text

We've All Got Needs ~ Part 1

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,133

This is part 1 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Series Link

Summary: The crew's out for the day so you decide to take advantage of unlimited shower time. Too bad a certain swordsman finished his workout early. Guess you should have locked the door.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Reader Insert, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Smut, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Casual Sex, Accidental Voyeurism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Condoms, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cunnilingus, Biting, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Hair-pulling, Aftercare, Swearing, No Foreplay, Zoro's a straight to the point kinda guy and we love that, Shameless Smut, Friends With Benefits, crewmates with benefits

A/N: This is my first smut with absolutely zero plot! I want to practice writing shorter pieces while I'm working on my next bigger story. I hope you like it!

Docked at a new town, you decided to take advantage of the privacy on the ship while the rest of the crew went shopping, and scoped things out. It seemed like a boring place, but knowing Luffy, you would all end up fighting a dragon or something.

So you might as well enjoy the bathing room uninterrupted for once while you had the chance.

Groaning, you massaged your neck and shoulders under the almost scalding water. Normally there would be someone banging on the door to get in by now, and you sighed as you rinsed the last of the soap away. Steam tickled up around you as you shut off the water.

“Damn.”

You let out an embarrassing high pitched noise, and grabbed your towel before turning toward the owner of that deep voice.

Zoro stood inside the stupidly unlocked door, already pulling out of his shirt. He was dripping with sweat, green hair clinging to his forehead. His chest was fucking glistening. You realized you’d been staring while you stood there dripping in your towel.

“Sorry, Y/N.”

He didn’t look sorry as he walked toward you.

Zoro had dropped his shirt on the floor and was reaching for his pants. You tried to excuse yourself, but couldn’t stop watching him.

He tilted his head with a smirk, and you felt trapped.

“We should fuck.”

Your brain stopped working.

“Wha-what?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. But we’ve all got needs. I’ve seen how you look at me.”

Zoro had stopped before removing his pants, but he walked toward you. You almost felt the look in his eyes on your skin.

“Uhh, I..”

“I like what I see too,” he said, in a raspy voice you’d never heard him use before.

He reached out to hold your jaw, tilting your face to his. His thumb smoothed along your skin until it rubbed over your lips.

A shiver of pleasure prickled your skin. Your lips parted in a soft gasp, and you had to close your eyes for a second.

When they opened, Zoro was so close to you, looking almost smug, but reserved.

“Is that a yes, Y/N?”

You were not expecting this at all. Zoro is fucking gorgeous, but you didn’t think he saw you that way. This way. Now he’s got his thumb on your mouth, asking if you’d like more.

You felt your smile curve under his thumb,

“We’ve all got needs.”

You dropped your towel as you let those words out, and Zoro looked so fucking pleased with himself. You almost wanted to punish him for it. You watched his eyes darken, his pupils dilated, and you had a feeling that you might be the one about to get punished.

Breathless, you stood naked, waiting for him.

His eyes burned into you. Zoro shifted the hand on your jaw to twist into the hair at the back of your neck. He didn’t pull, but your blood sped through you as you felt how much control he had just taken with that expert grip.

“What kind of needs could you have, Y/N?”

Zoro had completely floored you, all of this coming at you out of nowhere. You couldn’t believe how speechless he was making you, how flustered. You couldn’t get a sentence out.

“Mm, mind if I take a look?”

You gave a soft moan of consent as he traced the fingers of his other hand along your hip, back and forth as it got closer and closer.

His eyes were intense, almost territorial as he stared into yours. He kept his gaze on your face as his fingers slipped into your folds. You writhed and cried out, but Zoro pulled that grip in your hair firm. Just firm enough to make you moan and look at him again.

“You’ve been carrying all this need around, hm?”

Your mouth fell open at the sight of his fingers, thick strands of slick dripping between them. Zoro had hardly done a thing to you, but your body was aching for him now.

“I should've taken care of you sooner,” he said with a chuckle, removing the grip from your hair.

He looked around the room, the same way he does when scoping out a place for a fight. He locked the door, then began rummaging through the cubbies. You caught him digging through Sanji’s, mumbling to himself. You started to feel a bit awkward standing there naked, but then he smiled and pulled a condom out of Sanji’s things. Of course Sanji would have condoms.

You wet your lips with your tongue as Zoro stripped, tossing his pants across the room. You stood there staring at each other, and your breath caught when you saw his long, heavy cock twitch for you. He held the condom up by his face before ripping it open.

“I’ll go pick some up in town if you end up liking what my cock can do to you.”

You nodded as you stared, mouth watering as he placed the condom on the tip, fisting it down his length. He smirked before charging toward you.

He placed his hand on your shoulder with his thumb along your throat, and shoved you back against the wall.

Zoro kissed you then, his lips and tongue surprisingly gentle. At first.

You moaned into his mouth as he rubbed his length along your entrance, making you twitch under his hold while he circled it on your clit.

His kisses became more intense, and then he licked and bit along your lips, jaw, and down to your neck.

You traced your hands along his beautiful chest, still covered in sweat. He twitched slightly when you ran your thumbs over his nipples. You went to lick and bite at his ear, but Zoro took that moment to lift one of your legs, holding it up over his arm, then plunged into you.

You screamed. The abrupt entrance was overwhelming, but Zoro kept pumping into you, pushing and pushing to fill you completely.

You grasped for something to keep you steady, and a very useful stability bar for the shower worked perfectly.

You hung onto it for dear life as Zoro pulled back from your neck to watch your face.

“You haven’t even had it all yet, Y/N. Is my cock giving you what you needed? Can you take it?”

“Fuck yes, Zoro. Please. I can take it!”

You didn’t recognize your desperate voice. You’d had no build up, just straight to him fucking you with so much strength. But it was so fucking good. You could feel yourself close already, and the thought of more of him filling you made your eyes roll back.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, Y/N. Fuuuck. You’re gonna take my cock so well, aren’t you?”

“Yes, please. I need it, please.”

Zoro groaned as you begged. He adjusted your leg, then tilted himself slightly.

He leaned over you to growl against your ear.

“You’d better hold on, Y/N. Be a good girl and take my cock, and I’ll give you what you need whenever you want it.”

You cried out for him, grasping onto the shower bar as your eyes started watering from the brutal thrusts he was already hitting into you.

Zoro groaned loudly as he shoved into you, so fucking deep, until you held all of him. He’d taken the hand off your shoulder to circle its thumb over your clit. You came on his cock, screaming.

“So fucking good Y/N, your pussy’s so perfect. Keep coming for me, baby.”

You couldn’t form words, the twist of pleasure and pain riding you hard.

Zoro kept fucking into you until you were begging him.

“Please, Zoro.”

“You want me to keep giving you what you need after tonight?”

You whimpered your yes for him, twitching, your body starting to go limp.

“Come on, you’ve been so good. Let me give you a break.”

Gasping, you clung to Zoro’s shoulders as he picked you up from the wall, and laid you out on the shower floor. He’d left your cunt, dripping and aching as he set you down gently.

You looked in his eyes, and you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. You braced your hands on the wall, and arched your back at the pleased rumble of laughter that he gave at the sight. He leaned over, and spread your thighs wide, trailing his fingers along your twitching skin.

“Look at this pretty pussy. Mm, just what I needed.”

Zoro laid between your legs, and you screamed as he attacked your clit with kisses, licks, and sucks, pulling it softly between his teeth.

“Fuck, Zoro, i-it’s too much!”

He leaned away, face dripping.

“Already? Well, let’s see if you can earn my cock then.”

Zoro wrapped his fingers around his length, and you writhed at the sight. He brought himself closer to you, and you whimpered with need. He played with your clit with his tip again, and you arched your back.

“Perfect,” he growled as he snaked one of his arms under your lower back.

Then he lined himself up with your entrance, and you screamed. He filled you up so much, and the angle was intense, but exactly right.

Zoro grunted as his thrusts tore you apart. He held your lower back in position, using that arm to help fuck into your body harder. He stayed steady with the other arm, his hand planted by your face. He brought his eyes to yours, and your body clenched around him as you watched his mouth hanging wide with his tongue loose. He looked so fucking feral, it made you come on his cock again.

His thrusts became even more frenzied as your voice got hoarse from screaming.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N. You’re so fucking needy for my cock, aren’t you.”

“Fuck yes, Zoro.”

You barely managed to form those words as you felt him hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over, so fucking deep.

“That’s right, your hot little pussy can have this every day if you can take it like this.”

You moaned, hands scrambling along the wall as he fucked you further across the floor.

Zoro shifted, lifting himself onto his knees now. He lifted your hips further with him, leaving your upper back on the floor while he shoved himself into you from a punishing, phenomenal angle.

You lost your fucking mind, screaming, scratching at yourself, scratching at him. He played with your clit with his thumb, and you almost slammed your head into the tile floor from how hard you came for him.

“Fuuuck yes, Y/N, fuck. Just. Like.That.”

You’d never come that hard in your life. Your aching cunt was milking him so hard, and your orgasm kept fucking coming when you felt his cock pulsing inside you. Zoro groaned, his thrusts losing rhythm as he bit into your neck. You were spasming underneath him as you felt his release.

You didn’t know how long had passed as you lay twitching on the floor. Zoro released your neck from his teeth, only to lick and kiss along your shoulder until you whimpered, your pussy still clenching around him.

He leaned back from you, holding your chin to face him. He gave you a dangerous smile before pulling away from your body, leaving you empty and gasping.

You couldn’t even lift your head to watch him. You winced as the shower turned on, the water splashing up your legs.

Zoro knelt over you, pulling you onto his lap while the water washed over your lower body.

You didn’t know if you could talk, let alone what to say, as Zoro started to clean your body along with his. You gasped when his hand reached your center, still dripping and slick with all he’d done.

He was gentle, just cleaning, but you twitched in his arms. He chuckled and kissed your temple.

“So, Y/N, should I head down to the town, and pick up some more condoms?”

You choked, sputtering as he laughed at you. He continued to wash up your body, and you shivered and gasped under his hands.

“Go buy me some new legs while you’re at it.”

His surprised laugh at your words made you laugh too, which made all your parts ache, in such a good, but still painful way.

Zoro had fucking wrecked you, but you’d never felt so much pleasure. Even that thought made your back arch against his chest, and he stopped laughing long enough to stroke his hand along your chest while he hummed against your ear.

“So you’re good with this? With helping each other out.”

His whisper sent chills through you, and you smiled.

“We’ve all got needs”

Thank you for reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

Part 2: Don't Get Lost

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#zoro smut #zoro x reader #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #mine #One Piece smut #Opla smut #opla zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro fanfic #zoro fanfiction #x reader #turtletaub fics

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travelbystarlight · 2 years

Note

🍎🍌🍒🍓🔥 (love you 😊💕)

Ok but can this also count as the WIP tags since some of these are current?? lol posts under the read more bc they're kinda long lol

🍎 favorite angst quote from a wip

She still has her copy of the book. In every apartment or house she’s ever lived in it had a place on her shelf and nestled between the pages is a polaroid of the two from her senior year. Laying down on her floral bedsheets the two looked up as he held the polaroid camera up to capture both of them. If you looked closely you could see how his eyes ever so slightly were not on the camera, but on Morgan herself. From the therapeutic ST word vomit I wrote right after Vol. 2 dropped lol.

🍌 favorite funny quote from a wip

“I asked you to help me, not make it worse!” He playfully snapped back. “The way you’re coming at me feels like you’re gonna poke my eye out.” His eyes reflexively shut closed. Who would have thought that ‘mean and scary’ Eddie ’The Freak’ Munson would be so scared of a little eyeliner? What kind of metalhead punk was he? “I’m gonna if you don’t stop moving,” Morgan growled out. He looked a little pitiful to her. Eyes shut tight, a slight tear falling down his face. Oh boy, she thought before sighing. He’s so cute when he looks pathetic.

ST WIP 🍒 favorite sweet quote from a wip

“Don’t get too used to it.” She stubbed out her cigarette, almost down to the filter on the tree trunk the two currently leaned on. “Seriously man you gotta lighten up. Not like you to be moping around.” “What I can’t be multi-layered?” That received a playful punch from Morgan. Eddie laughed and flinched as the girl’s fist made contact with his arm. Eddie placed his arms up in a surrendering pose. He took another drag from his still lit cigarette. It was like flipping a switch, Morgan noted. It was like that forlorn, grumpy Eddie never existed, and standing instead was his old self, his normal happy-go-lucky self. A part of her envied him. The moment passed as his face fell slightly, not as moody as before but she could tell he was overthinking things.

You guessed it… ST WIP

🍓 favorite poetic quote from a wip

Tabitha always said that the world they would walk into would be desolate, barren without and plants or trees, but she had a habit of being wrong. Instead, their eyes were met with a world overflowing with beauty. Lush landscapes growing with life, bearing fruit. Joseph looked over to his wife and saw this world reflected in her. She looked up at him, her hand protectively clutching the swell of her stomach, her other hand intertwined with his own. He reflexively squeezed it, letting her know this was real.

A FC5 fic I abandoned a while ago but I enjoyed the writing.

🔥 wild card: dealer's choice of quote from a wip

Dana resisted her temptations and instead smirked back, trying her best to be nice. "Perhaps you have been mistaken,” she shrugged. "I'm just your simple, neighborhood con artist. Would you like to see what the cards have in store?"

You said dealers choice so you get a tiny bit of my Original story. And it’s all you’ll ever get. :)

#ask game #wips #ch: tawny mallory #ch: morgan kernow #ch: dana abrams #ship: something happens and i'm head over heels #ship: bathed in his blood #I know it says quote but you're getting passages bc I said so lol

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vivwritesfics · 5 months

Text

I'd Follow You Across The Galaxy

Y/N Skywalker loved her husband. She loved him through everything. Even when he turned to the dark side, she still loved him. But she couldn't be with him. She had her babies to protect. Her husband would follow her across the galaxy.

A collection of moments from Y/N and Anakin's relationship, recounted as she travels across the galaxy.

4.1K

Travelling alone through the universe, Y/N Skywalker had a lot of time to think. She thought about her name, how, even though she was still married, she'd have to change it to her maiden name.

She thought of the friends she hadn't seen since the end of the war, the children she had sent off to keep safe, the husband who had died in front of her.

The Clone Wars were something Y/N thought about often. She and her husband had fought side by side. It was when they fell in love. Her favourite thing to think about was when they first met.

“Princess Y/N from Idobaar has been kidnapped yet again,” Obi-Wan said to his Padawan learner. “We are to find her and bring her back to Coruscant. That way the Jedi Council can keep an eye on her,” he said.

Anakin Skywalker had heard of Princess Y/N from Idobaar before. He had heard stories of her beauty, but also of her recklessness. If she was kidnapped, it wasn’t because guards weren’t doing their jobs, but because she had wandered away and gotten herself into trouble.

Obi-Wan and Anakin only took a small ship to rescue the princess. Something that would allow them to move almost undetected through the stars. They found the vessel she was being kept on and made their way onboard.

The Jedi had to remain undetected for the safety of the princess. With the help of R2, they snuck their way through the ship, easily locating the cell Princess Y/N was supposed to be kept in. The key word there being ‘supposed’. It was empty, the door already open. A destroyed droid was beside the door, its blaster missing.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” said Obi-Wan as he looked at the droid.

Blasts from further down the hall. The Jedi unsheathed their lightsabers and took off towards the sounds.

It was a blood bath. Or, it would have been if droids could bleed. Princess Y/N of Idobaar was ducking into alcoves, emerging only to shoot at droids. As Obi-Wan and Anakin rushed towards her, a droid had a lucky shot. The princess cried out as it hit her arm and ducked behind the alcove.

The two Jedi took care of the droid’s Y/N had yet to destroy. Once they were finished with, Anakin put his lightsaber away and walked towards the Princess. “Princess Y/N?” He asked, offering her his hand.

“Who in the world are you?” She asked, accepting the help and getting to her feet. Her hand held her injured arm, keeping it close to her body.

Anakin took only seconds to observe it. There was no medical droid onboard their small ship; they would need to get her to an infirmary as soon as they got back to Coruscant. “I am Anakin Skywalker—”

“A Jedi?” Asked Y/N interrupting him.

More droids were approaching, that was easy to tell from the readily approaching footsteps. The Jedi wasted no time in moving Y/N along, running her back towards their ship. There was no point them moving under the cover of stealth, not when Y/N had already caused so much commotion.

As they ran she blasted, using her uninjured arm to shoot behind her. Obi-Wan and Anakin did their bit in cutting down droids and protecting the princess. They got her back onto their ship with no more injury and flew her back to Coruscant.

Of course, they were followed. Little fighter ships followed them, but Anakin was quick to take care of it. It was his flying skills that caught Y/N’s eye first, he would always say after this.

"Anything on the scanner?" Y/N asked her ship. It really was an incredible piece of engineering, a vehicle with a personality of it's own. Ship made a noise, something only Y/N could decipher.

Nothing. No Imperial Star Destroyers behind her.

"How about we stop at the nearest planet and get some rations?"

Ship made another noise.

"If you think you can hold out that long before we have to refuel," she replied, patting her steering mechanism.

Before Y/N met her husband, she couldn't fly a ship. He was the reason she learnt.

“So, I’m to be kept on Coruscant as a prisoner?” Y/N yelled, staring at Mace Windu.

The Jedi Master sent her an unimpressed look. He had better things to do than look after a spoiled princess. “Your parents have requested that you be kept here under the watchful eye of the Jedi,” he replied, clearly fed up with her already. Y/N seemed to have that affect on people.

Anakin watched from a distance as Mace Windu got more and more annoyed with her. Never angry, though. He was a Jedi Master, after all. “We have assigned Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan to protect you,” Anakin heard him say.

“You mean the guys that saved me?!” Y/N suddenly shrieked. But then her expression changed. She thought about it for only a few seconds before nodding. “Yeah, okay.”

Looking past Y/N, Mace Windu summoned Anakin forward. The Padawan walked towards Y/N and bowed. "Princess," he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. "It is good to see you again."

Y/N just gave the Jedi a look. She grinned, turned on her heel and walked away. Anakin followed her silently, his hands clasped behind his back. “So, Padawan learner, where is your master?” She asked him as they stepped into the elevator.

“The Jedi council has sent him on a mission,” he answered. “I will be your protector.”

Protector, Anakin liked the sound of that. He would be the one to protect Princess Y/N of Idobaar.

"I don't need a protector," she spat back as the elevator arrived at her new room. The room Y/N didn't want. "I shouldn't even be here on Coruscant!"

All Anakin could do was watch as she stormed into her room and pulled the door shut behind her.

Anakin looked around the foyer. It was where all of Y/N things had been placed, her possessions from Idobaar brought over to make her feel more at home and comfortable. One bag was open and full of dresses. Funny, Anakin couldn't imagine Y/N in a dress.

The first time he'd met Y/N, she'd been wearing a shirt and trousers, a holster strapped to her leg. Her outfit now was much the same, just without the holster.

Anakin looked to her room. Being a Jedi he could feel her in there, except he couldn't. He ran at the door, throwing it open as he went. If Anakin had lost her already, he'd never hear the end of it.

Princess Y/N of Idobaar was nowhere to be seen. Her bed had been stripped, her sheets tied to the bed post and hanging out of the open windows. Running over, Anakin's eyes followed the sheets to the roof of the slightly smaller building just below them.

Throwing his head back, Anakin let out a groan and jumped out of the window after her.

Y/N had her arms out, balancing her way across the roof. Her steps were slow, steady as she concentrated on staying up there.

There was a noise overhead, but Y/N wasn't concentrating on that. She had hours before her Jedi protector noticed she was gone.

But then he landed in front of her. Y/N stumbled back as he did so, but the Jedi was quick to grab a hold of her. "You really haven't spent a lot of time around Jedi, have you?" Asked Anakin as he kept her upright on the roof.

"So what if I haven't?" She glared up at him, but Anakin didn't release his hold. Y/N softened her expression. "Okay, fine. I don't want to be stuck here on Coruscant until my parents want me home. I just want some freedom before I'm trapped," she said.

What happened the last time she got some freedom? She got herself kidnapped.

And then, Anakin had a plan. "What if I took you flying?"

"Flying?"

Anakin nodded his head.

"What, so just outside of the planet?" It would take maybe five minutes at most.

Anakin just gave her a look.

***

Y/N loved flying. When she was younger and her parents took her on diplomatic trips, her favourite part was travelling there. Y/N sat in the cockpit, watching as Anakin flew the ship. He made it look so easy.

"I've never flown a ship before," Y/N confessed as she watched him.

A grin covered Anakin's face as he began to show off, manoeuvring around other ships. When he got to a wide open space, Anakin stopped the ship and pushed his chair back. "Want to give it a try?"

Y/N sat.

Where did she sit? Why, on Anakin's lap, of course. He helped her to fly it, taking things nice and slow. Anakin had her doing his manoeuvres from before, just at a much slower pace.

He let her drive until they were coming in for a landing. That was when Anakin had to take over once again. Once they were back on Coruscant, Y/N turned towards him. "Nice lesson, Jedi," she said with a giggle. "Maybe we can do this again while I'm stuck here."

Anakin stood from his seat. He followed behind Y/N as she left the ship. "Will you stay on Coruscant now, your highness?" He asked her as he held the door open.

"I'll think about it," she answered, stepping into the elevator.

That was a large number of years ago. So much had changed since then. When Y/N thought about things like that, about how things were all those years ago, it hurt.

It hurt being alone, drifting through the universe. It hurt not having a co pilot to keep her company. Ship was the only friend she had now that her husband was dead.

Y/N checked the coordinates. "Uh, Ship? Why are we heading to Tatooine?"

This time, when Ship made his noises, Y/N couldn't figure them out. Tatooine was fast approaching, but Ship wasn't slowing down. "Give me control!" Y/N cried, sitting back in her seat. "Ship! We're gonna crash!"

And crash they did. When Ship hit the sand, Y/N went flying forward, through the windshield and out into the desert.

Stranded.

They were stranded. Y/N laid in the sand. The Tatooine sun beat down on her, frying her. But she couldn't feel it - she was out cold.

***

Y/N woke up with a panicked start. She had been attacked, hadn't she? There was no way Ship would have just crashed other wise. She looked around at where she was, at the person in the corner of the cave. "Oh my God," she whispered, pushing herself to a sitting position.

It was somebody she had not seen for a great many years, somebody she'd grown to care for like a friend. She'd grown to miss him over the last ten years, too. "Obi-Wan?"

The last time Y/N had seen the man, he hadn't looked quite so haggard. The last time she had seen him, he had saved her and her babies from the clutches of Darth Vader

"That is a name I have not heard for many years," answered Kenobi as he stood up. "Now, what are you doing here on Tatooine, your highness?"

Y/N shook her head from side to side. "I don't know. Ship and I have been drifting for years, landing when we need to and avoiding Vader and his men at all costs. He suddenly landed me here with no word."

"Well, at any rate, I am glad to see you."

Obi-Wan gave her what rations he had and something to drink. "I'll see what I can do for Ship," he said, but Y/N knew what he was thinking. If Anakin was here, he'd be able to fix Ship in a heartbeat.

There was a question Y/N had been dying to ask Obi-Wan since the moment she woke up in his cave. One question she was was terrified of hearing the answer of.

"Obi-Wan, what happened to Luke and Leia? Have you seen them at all?"

Obi-Wan took his time answering her. Which filled her with anxiety.

"Let me show you," he finally said and Y/N let out a breath.

Kenobi took Y/N away from his cave, to a cliff. They sat themselves on the little ledge and Obi-Wan pulled out his Macrobinoculars. He looked first, making sure the little boy was still there, playing with his toys.

And then he passed the Macrobinoculars to Y/N. "Right there," he said and pointed.

When Y/N looked, she let out a gasp. There he was, the little boy she hadn't seen since the day he was born. Y/N watched him play in the Tatooine sand with his toy that looked a little bit like Ship. He was playing just outside of the moisture farm Y/N had visited only once before.

He was with good people, people that had taken care of Y/N in her hour of need.

"No, master Jedi, nobody is trying to kill me," said Y/N as she marched back to her room in Coruscant. It had been her home for a year now, with her Jedi protectors following her every move.

Y/N had spoken to her parents only a handful of times since they'd sent her to Coruscant. They were paranoid and wouldn't have her home any time soon. She missed her home, missed the palace and the friends she had there.

"Your highness, please," Obi-Wan began. "We just ask you be cautious. Our job is to protect you in any way we can; please don't make our job difficult."

Y/N let out a sigh. "Fine," she mumbled, sparing a glance at Anakin. "I'll be on my best behaviour."

The next few days passed somewhat normally for Y/N. When she left her room, Anakin was right behind her, close enough to touch. But he didn't; he kept his distance. That was the Jedi way.

But then, three days after Obi-Wan sat her down to speak with her, things started going wrong. The Jedi believed that, with Y/N safely in her room and with two guards outside of the door, they would be able to go to Jedi council meetings. Y/N, too, thought she was safe for that little while.

As Anakin returned to Y/N's room, he sensed something. Something that wasn't right. He ran into Y/N's room, lightsaber drawn. Y/N let out a gasp as Anakin cut off the hand of the person at the window. They were on the other side, hole cut in the glass for their gun.

"Holy Shit!" Y/N cried, turning to face the Jedi. "What happened?"

Anakin's breath was short as he stood with his lightsaber held above him, looking for the assailant. Before he could answer Y/N, he was jumping out of the window, chasing after the person trying to kill her. "Anakin!" Y/N cried as she leaned over the now broken window, watching as he disappeared between the speeders.

Okay, so maybe somebody was trying to kill her.

The Jedi council set Obi-Wan on the job of finding her assassin. While Obi-Wan worked, Anakin was tasked with looking after Y/N. "We should get off of Coruscant," he said as he sat on Y/N's bed.

"But where can we go?" She asked him. As much as she agreed, Y/N couldn't think of a single place safer for her. She couldn't go back to Idobaar, not when her parent's didn't think it was safe. But then she thought of somewhere. "My parent's are close to the Queen of Naboo. Maybe she'd host us," she suggested.

Anakin sat there, watching her as she packed her bags. She was beautiful, but Anakin had always known that. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her - it made his work as a Jedi very difficult.

The Padawan was hellbent on protecting her. He carried her things to their transport, said goodbye to Obi-Wan and took her to Naboo.

Senator Amidala was there to greet them when they arrived. She greeted Y/N with an embrace and gave Anakin a polite hello.

Naboo was where Y/N and Anakin camped out until Obi-Wan had caught her attempted killer. It was warm, sunny, peaceful. They sat by the lake, watching the sunset. They ate a decadent feast, but only once they'd taken the food up to the room Y/N had been placed in.

But, while they were on Naboo, Anakin was having nightmares. Y/N had never noticed before, but with only a thin wall between them, it was hard not to.

"What is it, Ani?" She asked one morning. When she woke up, she saw him outside of her room, on the veranda.

They were stood so close, but not yet close enough to touch.

"It's my mother," Anakin answered, staring at the water in front of them. "I keep dreaming of her, having nightmares."

His mother. Y/N knew the story, of how Qui-Gon Jinn had found him and his mother, slaves on Tatooine, how he had placed a bet with the man who owned him and had taken Anakin to learn the ways of the Jedi.

"What if we went to Tatooine?" Y/N suggested. "You have the power to free her, now."

Y/N said a farewell to the Queen of Naboo and they were on their way, flying to Tatooine. It was a peaceful trip, Y/N and Anakin sitting side by side, still close enough to touch but not quite. If she moved her hand even an inch, she would have been touching him. Would he be warm to the touch, his skin burning beneath her touch? Would his hands be rough and calloused from the years of Jedi training, or would his touch be soft?

When they landed on Tatooine, Y/N followed Anakin. He spoke to people in a tongue she couldn't understand, leaving Y/N to stand beside him, watching the interaction.

The thing that used to own Anakin directed them to a moisture farm. That was where the man who now owned Anakin's mother would be. And that meant that was where his mother would be.

They set off, heading out towards the moisture farm.

When they got there, they were met with the nicest people and the worst news. Shmi married the man who bought her and had been living with him and his son at the moisture farm. But then she was kidnapped by Tusken Raiders and nobody had seen her since.

"I have to free her," said Anakin as soon as they told him what had happened to his mother.

The suns were setting as Y/N looked at the Jedi she loved. No, not loved, not yet. "Ani," she whispered, reaching towards him. But, before her fingertips could meet his skin, she pulled away.

"Stay here, Y/N, please. They'll look after you here; they're good people," he said.

But Y/N wasn't quite ready to let him go yet. Not without a proper goodbye. Y/N grabbed the front of his Jedi robes and pulled him in. She pressed her lips to his and closed her eyes.

Taken by surprise, Anakin was stood there for just a moment before his body reacted. His hands settled on her waist and he closed his eyes, kissing her back. It was slow and sweet and tender. It was everything the two of them had been waiting for.

When Anakin pulled away, he reached up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. He didn't say anything as he left. Y/N watched him walk away. She waited until he was out of sight before returning to the moisture farm.

"What about Leia?" Asked Y/N as soon as she put down the Macrobinoculars. But then she shook her head. "It's better if I don't know."

It was one of Y/Ns greatest fears, Vader finding her and discovering the existence of their children.

"Why here?" Y/N asked as she passed back the Macrobinoculars back to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan looked at her. "I thought it best if he grew up with family," he answered.

She spared one last look at Luke through the Macrobinoculars, still playing with his toy ship.

While Obi-Wan helped her to get Ship repaired, she hid in the cave he called him. It was a quick ordeal, Obi-Wan using Jedi mind tricks to speed the process along. He wouldn't use them for anything else, but she was desperate to get away.

It was two weeks before Y/N was flying away on Ship once again. She patted the steering mechanism, happy to have her only friend back. "Get us out of here, Ship," she said.

Ship made a series of noises. "Thanks, pal," Y/N whispered as she looked at their surroundings, the familiarity of space.

Until she crashed on Tatooine, Y/N had managed to keep track of Vader and his fleet of ships. But now, she had no idea where they were. She couldn't tell if she was flying towards them or away from them.

Vader. She remembered the day she met him. But that wasn't a story for right now. So, she thought about Anakin, about the first time he told her he loved her.

Obi-Wan was in danger. Who better to save him than his padowan learner? But Anakin didn't think so.

He had a princess to protect, and he was going to protect her with his life. Besides, they were on Tatooine and Obi-Wan was on Geonosis.

Ever since Y/N had first come to Coruscant, Obi-Wan had been kind to her. He'd protected her with his life, and it was about time she did the same.

So, she thanked Cliegg, Owen and Beru. Whether Anakin was following her or not, she marched over to their ship. "You shouldn't have taught me how to fly," she mumbled when Anakin walked onto the ship behind her, the door shutting after him.

Anakin grabbed onto a chair as Y/N flew the ship. She wasn't very good - there was a reason her future vessel was going to be something that could practically fly itself.

He took over, taking control of the ship from her. "You're not gonna turn us around, are you?" She asked, giving him the pilots seat.

Anakin shook his head. "As long as you promise to let me take the lead, we'll go save Obi-Wan. Just, stay behind me and stay out of trouble," he said. Y/N nodded, reaching for his lightsaber. But Anakin had the force - he could sense it as she reached. "No!" He called and Y/N quickly withdrew her hand.

It wasn't long beside they arrived on Geonosis. Anakin tried to be stealthy, but that wasn't Y/N's specialty. She took down the first droid she came to, stole its blaster and went charging in, head first.

Anakin couldn't stop the small grin crossing his face as he followed her. His lightsaber was drawn as he fought of droids, Y/N continuing to push forward.

And then she found herself on the droid assembly line. Jumping over and around parts, taking out droids as they were being built. It shouldn't have been fun, but it was. And Anakin could tell. He couldn't help but being distracted as she punched a droid, knocking off the head that hadn't yet been properly attached.

But then they got themselves captured. Anakins lightsaber was knocked out of his hand and several finished droids surrounded Y/N. They were well and truly screwed, blasters pushed against their backs as they were forced to walk forward.

Their hands were chained together and they were placed on a chariot. If they weren't about to die, it would have been both magnificent and romantic. But they were, almost quite literally, being marched to their deaths.

"I love you," he said before they were paraded out in front of the crowed. "I'll do whatever I can to protect you."

Y/N tried to step closer. She looked up at him as she leaned towards him. As she did, Anakin dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers. It was slow, gentle, and so full of love. His lips slotted against hers oh so perfectly, soft and pillowy.

Intoxicating. He was intoxicating. They were about to die, and Y/N couldn't think of a better way to go.

"I'd do anything for you," whispered Anakin as they were paraded around. "I'd follow you across the galaxy," he said.

Y/N leaned up to kiss him once more. "If I'm travelling across the galaxy, you'll be right there beside me."

It was hard to keep track of where Darth Vader could have been, Y/N realised as the great, large ship appeared in front of them. It was much bigger than her own, its tractor beam easily pulling them in.

He had found her.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fluff #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #star wars fluff #star wars smut #darth vader #darth vader imagine #darth vader x reader #darth vader smut #darth vader x you #anakin skywalker x you

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hihhasotherfixations · 1 year

Text

John Price headcanons sfw & nsfw

I don’t usually do headcannons so please bear with me 👉👈

I hope you enjoy them tho :3 Will I use many of these in my writing? Yes, yes I will. These are both in general as well as him with you ;3

Part 2

Sfw:

He has an entire routine for his beard. Keeps it trimmed regularly and takes very good care of it, which causes it to feel very nice and soft to the touch.

Absolutely LOVES when you’re the one doing it though. It’s a small act of love that he can never get enough of. Whether you’re the one trimming it or just putting some products in. It’s a moment where he can sit on the bath rim and have you stand between his legs - or the other way around where he props you up on the sink and stands in between your legs. He just places his hands on your hips and closes his eyes, trusting you with something so important to him. It’s a very intimate thing that he treasures.

He has reading glasses. I won’t budge on this. Square(rectangle) ones with a very thin frame. Tends to forget whenever he puts them on his head and proceeds to go searching for them for five minutes.

He is very warm blooded. Always runs hot like a furnace. A blessing in the winter, a curse in the summer. Especially because he loves to cuddle.

Has a little trinket on his desk representing each of the 141 (+ Nik, Laswell and Farah). Be it a gift they gave to him or something that reminds him of them. There’s something for everyone. It clutters the edge of his desk a bit but it’s worth it because whenever the paperwork gets too much, he can just look at the little shrine he built and smile.

His love language is physical touch and quality time. While he loves giving you gifts and being romantic too, nothing beats holding you in his arms while you cuddle on the couch or in bed.

Speaking of- this man absolutely adores you. He doesn’t think he deserves the love you give him because of the things he’s done in his life. But every day he sees you, you prove that you do love him and he wants to return that love twice over.

His biggest fear is coming home after deployment to an empty house. Finding a letter on the table stating you can’t wait for him any longer. He’d understand, of course. But it would crush him.

While we’re on the sad train already- he suffers frequent nightmares due to PTSD. Feels really guilty for waking you up but also can’t stop himself from seeking your comfort after one of them - craving it. If you allow him to (he wouldn’t bring it up unless you suggested it), he’ll call you if he’s out on deployment or at base. Give him that privilege to phone you awake just to comfort him? There is nothing that man won’t do for you anymore.

He is terrified of being the one to leave you too though. He knows that if he’s ever faced with the option to sacrifice himself for one of the 141, he would. But it also breaks his heart because it would mean he’d leave you for them. He tries not to think about it like that, but it’s a constant conflict in his mind.

While he’s probably more likely to be a dog person, I can also really see him with cats just curled up on his chest. Once again, this man is always warm. The little felines will search him out like a bloodhound, preferring him over laying by the radiator.

THIS 👏 MAN 👏 CAN 👏 COOK 👏

And he loves to do it too. His idea of a hobby is either reading, building models or cooking. You can often find him in the kitchen with a cook book, making a five star meal. Loves to see your reaction to the taste of it, makes him proud of himself.

Also, yeah, he likes building models :3. Miniatures. In his spare time you can find him on the couch, bent over the coffee table with his reading glasses perched on his nose while he’s building a ww2 bomber plane out of matchsticks from some random pattern he found online. He has very steady hands and it causes the models to always look fantastic. His best and biggest work is a ship in a bottle from a kit you gave him for an anniversary between you two. He only works on that in short increments to make sure he doesn’t screw it up - it’s about 2/3 done. You’ve repeatedly tried to get him to share his work online but he always gets bashful and refuses.

If he ever got the chance to do it together with the team though?? He’s gonna be beaming about that single evening for a week straight.

His favourite colour is dark green, like the forests :)

This is less of a headcannon and more just snippets of canon proof that I found. But he can speak English, Russian, Arabic and Spanish. Maybe even more.

He’s a tea person. Can’t stand coffee. It’s not about the taste, simply that every time he tried it, it gave him a headache.

When he first introduced you to the team, he was very nervous. Really wanted them to like you. So when Soap immediately took you into a hug and thanked you for ‘taking care of the old man’, followed by Gaz introducing himself with a warm smile and a praising regalia of the things he’d heard from Price, he couldn’t be happier. And when he at one point saw you at the kitchen table with Ghost, talking calmly and laughing with the hulking man who’s tension had dropped from his shoulders? He knew you were the one.

Loves going on double dates with Laswell and her wife too. You’re all good friends and it’s a chance to truly unwind and just catch up with Kate outside of work.

Please for the love of all that is holy, take a bath or shower with him. He ADORES them. Really wants so bad to take care of you. Will do your whole cleaning routine for you if you let him. If it’s something he’s not used to? Teach him, he’s very eager to learn.

All in all, this man just loves you so much. He finds himself so so lucky that you chose him of all people as your partner. Whether you’re civilian or military, he’ll protect you with life and limb. Literally.

So, those were the sfw thoughts bouncing in my head. I hope you liked them. Now we’re moving onto the spicy stuff. Please respect the banner, thank you and more stuff for this man is coming! ^^

Nsfw:

He is an ass man. All the way. Don’t get me wrong, he LOVES your thighs, seeing the way his fingers indent the flesh when he squeezes, being buried between them - it’s heavenly. But there is just something about your ass that he can’t get enough of. If his eyes aren’t on it, then his hands are.

He won’t randomly smack your ass - doesn’t really sit right with him, doesn’t find it proper (except for certain situations ;3). But dear god does he always have a hand on your ass to squeeze if he gets the chance. Walking somewhere together? If he can, he’ll slide his hand from your back/waist down to your ass and hold there. Sitting on his lap? You already know it, his hand is on your ass, keeping you in place. Brushing past you? One hand on your waist, one hand on your ass while he apologises and squeezes past.

A gentle over a rough lover. While he can go both ways, he prefers to go slow and deep. Watching your face contort in pleasure as he fucks you, hearing every noise you make.

This man is an absolute pleasure dom. He gets off on seeing you get off. There’s plenty of nights where he solely focuses on you and doesn’t cum himself.

Doesn’t like the word daddy but for the love of god PLEASE use honorifics. Call him captain and sir and you’ll have an entirely different man on your hands.

Prefers giving over receiving oral. There’s just something about working his tongue and mouth on you that never fails to make him groan against you - even if his mouth is otherwise occupied.

Will always properly prepare you. He doesn’t like hurting you. He’s big and he knows it so he doesn’t want to take any chances.

While he doesn’t mind quickies (in his office is a favourite), he prefers the actual thing. Like stated before, he wants to focus on you and give you all the pleasure he can and a quicky just doesn’t allow for that.

For those instances where you rile him up enough to forego his gentler side however? He knows how to work you. He can push every button you have and have you seeing stars while he fucks the life out of you. Don’t expect to be standing on strong legs the day after.

Man has stamina for DAYS. Prefers to make you cum multiple times before he cums himself. Need a moment in between orgasms to recover before you can go again? That’s okay, you can cockwarm him while he waits.

Speaking of cum. It’s thick, potent and by god he cums a lot. Properly stuffs you if you let him.

Big on marking you. Loves leaving bites, hickeys and handprints. Give him the same too. Scratch marks, bite marks, hickeys. He loves checking his body over in he morning to see what you left.

He has quite the libido on him. He can’t help it, you’re the most inviting and enticing thing in his eyes. Bend over to pick something up and his cock can already be hardening in his pants.

He’s very considerate of your wants and needs though. If you don’t want to have sex, he’ll cuddle you and hold you instead. If you’re not into a certain thing, he’ll refrain on doing it next time. Very much wants to make it a time of pure pleasure and love for you, because that’s what it is for him too.

Very into kisses. Sloppy, long kisses where you moan and whine into his mouth. Better yet if you muffle your moans in his mouth while he fucks you.

Favourite positions are missionary, mating press, doggy style, lotus and spooning sex. He loves them for different reasons.

Missionary because of how close he can be, feeling your legs wrap around his waist while all of him touches all of you.

Mating press because of how deep he can hit and keep such control. He can see your face contort in pleasure while folding your legs up and holding you down.

Doggy style is obvious as to why. But he also really loves watching the way your back arches with this one. He can hold onto your hips and just let his eyes rove your body.

Lotus he loves a lot when cuddles on the couch evolve into more, or when he’s in his office and the need arrises for you both. Just having you seated on his lap, your legs around him, body pressed so closely into his while he gently fucks up into you? Heaven.

Spooning sex? You mean cuddles + sex? Hit. Him. Up. He absolutely loves fucking you like this in the morning. Lazy, tired, properly waking each other up with pleasure.

If you’re into it and allow him to, he’d even actually wake you up like that. Big on somnophelia like that for the thought of pulling you out of your dreams and your sleep with pleasure. If he gets to the stage where he’s opened you up and his cock is filling you without you waking up until then, he’s oh so proud of himself. Would only do it if you’re comfortable though.

Very big on cockwarming. Watch a movie together on the couch and let him rest his cock in you from behind. Can evolve into spooning sex on the couch while making you try to keep your attention on the movie. His hand on your chin, keeping your face pointed to the screen while he whispers against your ear.

I said it before, he’s big. Long and thick and knows how to use it well. He’s a very hairy man all over but he keeps it neatly trimmed down there.

The h a p p y t r a i l of this man. Run your nails over it and it instantly sends blood rushing into his cock.

Overall, John will fuck you whenever he gets the chance. And by the gods he will show you what it’s like to be truly worshipped.

Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to interact or send me any asks, I’d love to chat ^^

Part 2

#john price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #cod x reader #price headcanons #call of duty mw2 #cod mw #price mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare x reader #nsft headcanon

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diejager · 2 months

Note

I saw something about Victorian COD so hear me out-

Victorian Price in the fanciest suit

I'm sorry but that man would be so hooooooooooot as a Victorian gentleman, it fits his vibe

p.s. Happy 2024!!!!!!!

I got to this 3 months later… Happy belated new year 😅

Cw: flirting? Price being a gentleman, older man/younger woman, established relationship, tell me if I missed any.

Your father’s business parties had always been boring, they were a chore for you to keep a perfect facade to the public, the frail yet strong lady of the house, donned in ridiculously frilly dresses and thighs corsets. Your mother had fussed over it your entire life, her rough fingers, brought from her commoner background, had made her harsher in every manner to keep her title, for you to keep yours as a noble born into a world of riches. But the upkeep of it was useless when you had no part in it, forced to play a part in something you had no right to be a part of.

Granted, you had your reservation, understanding that being on the same side as your father had it’s perks, the power his title - soon to be passed down to your older brother once your father passed - and his money. You didn’t necessarily depend on it wholly, you might live in his home, eat from his cooks and call for the maids and butlers he employed, but you had your studio away from home, somewhere in the city where you painted under natural light and sold portraits to people who paid you for a commission.

It wasn’t as grand as being a merchant, to sell the luxuries most nobles sought - gems, fabrics, gold and silver - but it built you connections, your work passed from mouth to ear, one noble at a time, and one town at a time. You had your clientele and your father had his, you had an image to keep for something you worked so hard for, but to invest an equal amount of face and finesse in a snobbish party was draining. Fortunately, a few of your father’s work affiliates were regular clients at your little studio, sending letters to you months in advance to organise dates for you to paint them, it varied between one and a few months.

Your favourite was a British merchant company, lead by one bear of a man that you knew well, managed by three - a kind-hearted brit with beautiful skin, a boisterous Scot with his unusual haircut, and a broad and rugged man who hid his identity under a fearsome mask - other you were well-acquainted with and advised by a strong headed woman too advanced for your era. John Price was his name, a man a decade older than you, but treated you kinder than any man had before him, a gentleman in a beautiful suit and slacks, a red shirt and waxed shoes. He - coincidentally - matched your attire, your frilly, red chemise with a high and bowed collar, the sleeves long and rumpled in waves of red silk, waist high pants that hugged your body the same way your mother’s corset hugged her form and slick shoes that shone under the high chandeliers.

“You seem bored, love,” his soft and baritone voice never failed to make you shudder, his hand on your back a reminder than he was with you.

He was always the gentleman, a man who worked his way to nobility, gaining a title and land through blood, sweat and tears. He was known for his trades, selling and shipping a large variety of items that some considered exotic simply because nobles hated interacting with foreigners, a kind of bred racism and xenophobia through generations to fear any uprising from their colonies and other countries. He was as broad as his company was known, every core member of it respected for climbing the echelon of society through hard work. Some purebred nobles might hate him for taking a title without being born into it, but none could object his craft, like an artist couldn’t do hate their canvas.

“There isn’t much to do, is there, John?” You nodded towards your father, knowing that he was observant enough to see the slightest of movement, “My father is… he loves bathing in luxury, in the popularity his name brings.”

He hummed, a low rumble from his throat, his eyes narrowed almost threateningly, but you knew the amused gleam in his eyes. You had years to get to know him, once an occasional client - a man who stumbled into your studio wanting to let a newly risen artist a chance to paint him, admiring your work for the smooth and confident strokes - who brought his art trade to you, now a trusted friend, someone you were blasphemously closed too for someone your age.

Your friendship hadn’t lasted long, the constant coaching from Kyle and Johnny, the silent push from Simon and the proud smile from Kate had both of you meeting halfway, throwing you into his open arms and fooling around at the back of your studio until John could take you away to marry.Eloping and always sounded interesting, you weren’t needed at home, your father had an heir and your mother had your younger sister to worry about.

“He flaunts it foolishly, yes,” he agreed, raising the cup to his lips, tipping it until the champagne flowed down the glass rim, “But we have a contract, one I intend to uphold until he complete his end of it. And I met you.”

He turned to you, a tender smile hidden under his beard, his stormy blues softening as he peered down at you, adoration gleaming in his eyes. You wished you could kiss him, to grip him by the collar and pull him down to press your lips against his course ones, to kiss him deeply and show him the love you felt for him.

“I would, love, but we’re in public,” had you spoken out loud? It seemed you did if John answered you, his chuckles shaking his shoulders, “Would you come home with me once I’ve finished my business?”

“Of course, John.”

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#cod mw2 #x reader #cod mw2 x reader #captain john price #john price #price mw2 #price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #victorain au #female!reader #fem!reader #price modern warfare #established relationship #older man younger woman

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delphi-shield · 6 months

Text

push and pull // leon s. kennedy & jill valentine

Leon x Reader x Jill Smut wc: 2,860 mdni - 18+

the plumber at my house reading this over my shoulder: 😲 this has been in my drafts for like two months, i finally ripped the bandaid off and touched it up. i cant believe people want the jill/leon ship name to be jilleon when 'breakfast sandwich' is right there. ohh nooo i had to cut the scene where they high-five after you cum...... guess i'll have to write more jill and leon......what a tragedy.....

summary: Jill said she'd be home two hours ago. She's stood you up for dinner again. You're so upset, Leon's got to fuck you about it to make you feel better.

content: fem!reader, all porn no plot, piv (reader receiving), some praise from leon & some degradation from jill, spit, crying, hair-pulling, masturbation, blowjob, dom!jill, use of strap-on, established poly relationship, sorry yeah there's more religious imagery, stealing the jill & leon dynamic from this post, fucking your relationship problems away does not work and you should not attempt. very loosely proofread.

Jill's late.

She promised. You cooked, you cleaned, and she promised she would be here. Bought a special candle and everything, three wick, fresh linen scent. Not your kind of thing, but you know she likes those clean, bright smells.

The first half hour, you’d clung to the idea that her physical therapy appointment was just running late. Forty-five minutes in, three unanswered texts, your hope diminishes. An hour, and Leon’s helping you put the food up and clean the dishes.

Leon’s not exactly happy with Jill. This isn’t the first time she’s done this to you. He hates to see you pout. Even more than that, he hates to see the way you’re trying not to cry in front of him. He does everything he can think of to make you feel better. Watch one of your godawful shows with you, play with your hair for you, give you a nice bath if you wanted - none of his offers made much of a difference. He knows better than to take it personally. He’s not Jill. He can’t fix what she broke.

He can fuck you about it, though. That always seems to take your mind off things, at least for a little while.

He let you use him however you like, dealer’s choice. You wanted him in the dining room chair, wanted to ride him slow, grind down on that fat cock till you unwound and your pretty tears weren’t because your girlfriend stood you up, and that’s what you’d get. Not his first choice, but he’s not the one who looks so pretty with those big, wet eyes.

The only downside is that you can't hear Jill's key turning in the door when Leon's got his cock stuffed so deep in your pussy you can feel him in your ribs, when you’re too busy rocking yourself to a gradual, slow-built end. You'd missed your ringtone too - and Leon's for that matter. You weren't intentionally being petty, but intentions never did soothe Jill's moods.

"Nice," she drawls, dropping her bag with a thud. "Real nice."

Your head falls back just enough to get a look at her, pouting in the doorway. Maybe it's supposed to be intimidating. Really, she just looks like a dejected cat, all puffed up for attention. The hand splayed on Leon’s chest flops back uselessly, reaching for her.

“Jill -”

Leon’s hips jut up, reminding you he's here, reminding you who's inside you. Whatever you were going to say melts away into a whine so pathetic even you want to roll your eyes.

"Got started without you," Leon says, callous on your behalf. His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you back to him. It doesn’t take much prompting for you to curl back into his chest, walls fluttering around his cock, gripping him like your life depends on it. "Saved you some dinner. It’s in the fridge."

How can he be so casual? Feels like you’ve got lava running through your blood. His hands settle on your hips again, push-pulling you back and forth to get you to grind again. You oblige, faster than before, mouthing open kisses against his neck. They ought to canonize him for his patience, crown him Patron Saint of Not Plowing You Into The Carpet.

Jill doesn't say a word. She marches off to the bedroom, leaving her boots behind as she goes. Her cardigan gets flung over the couch - poor thing. It didn't do anything wrong.

She’ll come out when she’s ready, you tell yourself. Ignoring the ingrained need to manage Jill’s emotions for her is hard, but not quite as hard as Leon’s dick. Makes it a little easier to forget. You press your moans into Leon’s skin, let him have them for safekeeping.

Her footsteps pound back into the room. You don't know what she's done that's so funny, but Leon shakes with a laugh. You move to look, and his palm pressing against your cheek stops you. Something clatters onto the dining room table, a heavy thunk and buckles. He presses a light kiss to the crown of your head, strokes your hair.

"Go ahead and finish up, baby. Doin' so good. All yours."

It's all the permission you really need. It doesn’t take long - you’re good for him, after all. So good, you don't even need his help. You just need him to hold you up when that slow heat finally expands, spreads like fire through your limbs and leaves you making a mess of his lap, baptizing his cock with your release and moaning hymns for him.

You slump against him, eyes heavy and limbs loose. Your head nestles against his chest, his heart hammering like crazy. Poor guy. So patient. So sweet. You want to offer to take care of that for him - he's still inside you, sitting so still and so good, the stretch all you need. It feels like a bomb went off in your skull, though, scattered all your thoughts around the apartment. You need a moment before you can be considerate, before you can formulate any kind of offer. You reach up, pat his cheek gently to tell him how good he made you feel, lazily kiss at the hollow of his throat.

Jill's got plenty of words, though. She's not the one who just fell apart.

"You so needy you can't wait forty-five minutes?"

"Closer to an hour," Leon counters, and for the first time you hear the strain in his voice. "More like two, actually."

Jill’s irritation boils over. "Shut up. Why don't you go jerk off in the corner?"

After all, he's supposed to be on her side. He's the one who knows what this life is like, the one who knows what their work entails and the stress of it all.

He's also the one who texts when he's running late. He's the one still on active deployment, the one who hadn't been dodging home like the plague. He got over himself a year ago, figured ways to deal with his emotions that didn’t include running as fast as he could, drinking until they drowned, or working himself to the bone.

Jill’s still working on that part. Again - saint-like patience.

“Maybe I will,” he says, casual as he can. He jostles you in his arms. He’d say it’s to keep you awake, but it’s mostly to keep his dick hard. You pulse around him, groan into his t-shirt and drool a little dark patch onto his shirt.

You’re all soft and pliable when her hands slide up your sides, fingers curling in the spaces between your ribs. You lean back to her, longing for the softness of her tits under your head, and you glide back through the air unsupported, like you’ve faded through the ghost of her. Your head lolls back, pretty, pathetic pout on your swollen lips.

“Gonna be good?” She asks, staring down her nose at you, eyes half lidded. You nod your head. Her eyes narrow. “Words.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shifting you off of Leon's lap is a group effort, one that Leon doesn't particularly care to be too enthusiastic about. His poor dick is lonely, and fucking his fist is a poor substitute for the sticky warmth of your cunt. Jill cradles you in here arms - the first hint of tenderness you've had from her all night - and settles you on the floor in front of the couch. She kicks your legs into position, sways back to appraise your form, and gives you a long-suffering sigh that's a far cry from approval.

"Whatever," she mutters under her breath. "It'll do. Don't move."

She shuffles off to the side. You hear the rustle of fabric. You turn your head to look, and -

"I said don't fuckin' move."

Your head snaps to the front again, hands fisted against the tops of your thighs. No arguing with that tone. Your back is ramrod straight. There's movement to your right, and Leon finally comes into view, settling against the far side of the couch. He's at least kind enough to give you a show, stroking his cock for you in long, slow strokes, massaging his palm over that shiny red tip and sliding his own fluid down to squeeze at the base. Makes your mouth water just looking at him.

Not that you have to wait long for a treat. Jill finishes her prep work, drags herself back over to the couch and drops down in front of you, strap-on making you go crosseyed.

“Go on,” she sighs, waving her hand lazily. Like she’s doing you a favor.

And she is. It’s a privilege to suck her strap.

You rock onto your knees and take too much of her at once, gag yourself right off the bat in your eagerness. They both groan, Jill in exasperation, Leon because holy fuck, if he hears you make that noise again he's going to blow his load immediately. His hand shucks his t-shirt up. He's not trying to stain this shirt with cum. Not his cum, anyway.

"Your mouth is so perfect for this," Jill says, leaning forward and fisting a hand in your hair, "and you're still so bad at it. Do I have to show you how to do everything?"

You nod uselessly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Jill rolls her eyes, smothers the hint of a smile that threatens to twist her lips up. She guides your head back to the head of her silicone cock and sets an easy pace for you. Lets you take it nice and slow, get accustomed to the weight of her cock on your tongue as if you haven't done this a hundred times - as if she knows you went too hard right off the bat just to get her to guide you like this.

"There you go," she drones, the praise feeling like anything but. You bob your head freely, her hand in your hair just a suggestion now. "Finally figured it out. Not as dumb you look."

You push further, tucking your thumb tight in your fist and gagging only a little when the head of her cock prods at the back of your throat. Leon's hips buck into his fist, quick and rhythmless, swearing under his breath. His leg kicks out, nudges Jill's calf and you swear she's going to snap at him.

Your eyes cut from Jill to Leon, a tear rolling down your cheek, and that’s the final push that has him cumming all over his stomach, head tipped back into the arm of the couch, pretty moans so loud, so perfect that it makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy.

You don’t have time to savor the way that he looks, paint him in your mind and hang it up on the walls around your skull like a pin-up. Jill lifts you off her cock, stuffing her hands under your armpits like you’re a stray kitten. You would be, for her, if she asked. Let her slip a pretty collar around your neck, hope you’re lucky enough that it’s got a bell.

She doesn’t wait for Leon to recover, just manhandles the pair of you so your back is pressed to his chest, his cum smearing against your skin. Leon’s got that loose limbed laziness that comes with a release that built-up.

“Hold her,” Jill growls. “Stop fucking around.”

Leon's hands curled around the back of your thighs, spreading you wide for Jill. A warm chuckle rumbles through his chest and pours into you. His head ducks down, mouth by your ear.

“She's mad ‘cause I had you first.”

You turn your head, stifle your giggles in his shoulder. The silicone head of Jill's cock slides through your sopping folds, nudging at your clit. Her hips rock agonizingly slow. It’s tough to tell whether she’s teasing you or herself at this point, but your sensitive body twitches and jerks with every pass of her spit-slick cock.

“Gonna make a mess?” Her hand grips your jaw tight, pulling your face from Leon's shoulder. It’s less a question and more a demand. You nod as best you can in her grip, remember too late to try and bumble out words. She taps your cheek twice, hard enough to sting, hard enough to make those pretty eyes water again.

Jill doesn’t wait for you to say it. She enters you in a quick, jerky thrust, no hint of warning, your breath stuttering and back tensing. She rabbits her dick into you, your moans falling as staccato as her pace. Her head bows to spit a fat glob of spit onto your clit. Her fingers rub you frantically, a pace so at odds with the slow push and grind of her hips that it makes you burn. You try to squirm back, the way your blood starts to singe a little too quick for your liking, but there's nowhere to go when you're pressed so tight against Leon's broad chest.

His hand slithers up and over the point of your hip, pressing down firmly just below your navel. Betrayal. You thought he was on your side. Your whining sharpens into a moan that has to have rattled the windows. Jill huffs a laugh, low and cruel. She pulls back just far enough to leave you wanting - and when you claw at her shoulders to drag her back home she's already moving, hard and slow, the light dancing in front of your eyes, her hips driving the breath out of your lungs, your chest caving in. It feels like you've imploded, blood on fire, singeing your bones and leaving the ash to remember it by.

She’s not done. You promised her a mess. Your voice is splintered, her hips still driving into you. You don’t feel yourself gushing around her until it’s already happening. You sniffle, your moans choppy and your tears falling quick, humiliation warming the embers in your stomach. Her pace slows and finally stills, finally lets you find yourself in the pile of ashes.

"Already?" Jill mocks, hands rubbing your quivering thighs soft and sweet despite the way she sneers.

You want to scoff, but you haven’t got the breath. Already, she says, like she hadn’t just ripped that orgasm out of you fast enough that you’ve got cartoon tweety-birds spinning around your head.

“My turn,” Leon pipes up.

“Fuck off. You’re not even hard. I'm just getting started.”

“Shoulda thought about that before you made her cum.”

God, they’re like lions fighting over a piece of meat. You push yourself up on shaky arms, give Jill your best gazelle-trying-not-to-get-eaten pout.

“M’tired,” you slur, your brains thoroughly fucked out. You form a T with your hands, calling for a time-out. “Need a break.”

Jill looks like she wants to bite anyway. But you were good, used your good girl hand signal and everything. She sighs, her shoulders slumping, and loosens the straps around her hips.

“C’mere, pumpkin.” Leon gathers you into his arms easily. “Gonna get you all cleaned up. Tuck your ass in.”

You ache when he moves you, in places you weren’t quite sure could ache. It’ll be worse later. Always is. They always have to fuck you at some weird angle. Can’t ever let your muscles get used to it, like you’re some kind of glorified exercise equipment. At least they wipe you down after they use you. Very polite of them.

Leon hands you your water bottle and settles in behind you, slotting up against your back. He’s got the both of you cleaned off even though he seems just as tired as you, bless him. Say a prayer to the patron saint of the bedroom.

Jill found dinner, apparently. You hear the microwave beeping distantly and share an amused look with Leon. Sure enough, she’s got a bowl of food in her hand when she settles at the end of the bed, legs crossed.

The silence lays somewhere in-between battlefields, landmines hidden all around your bedroom. Everything you want to ask is too loaded, too heavy. You’re not even sure you have the energy to stay up for a serious conversation, much less an argument. Jill looks so soft right now, the bags under her eyes seeming lighter in the warm lamplight of your bedroom. You don’t want to see her eyes sharpen. You don’t want to hear her teeth click together when she bites back her words. You search for some other topic, something that will make the tension evident in her shoulders melt away.

"We should do one of those clone-a-willy kits," you murmur, eyes shut, head tipped into the pillow. You open your eyes just enough to gauge her reaction. Warmth blooms in your chest when you see her eyes crinkle and her smile lines deepen.

"Why?" Jill laughs.

"You don't wanna fuck me with Leon’s dick?"

It’s the first time you’ve heard Jill laugh like that in a while. Pride spreads in your tired little grin. Leon's cock gives a tired twitch against your thigh. He groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder blade.

“You two are gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

#leon kennedy x reader #jill valentine x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy smut #jill valentine smut #resident evil x reader #x reader #resident evil #jill valentine #leon kennedy

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kaeinvy · 2 months

Text

𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇 ! + 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 ; 𝘫𝘫𝘬 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

warnings : afab reader + no pronouns used, choso x reader, vampire ! reader + choso, vampire x vampire + biting + blood drinking, dick riding, bathtub sex, flowers in bath + candles, romantic sex, unprotected sex + slight breeding kink, smut + fluff, grammar mistakes(?)

notes; love choso sm, don't ask why a male is making afab reader smut, k. Just enjoy this! also doesn't a romantic bathtub sound so lovely? Like I could give you a romantic time in a bathtub & who wants to recreate Queen of the damned with me/hjjj

Your head was spinning, and your throat felt dry, your groan in pain, you tried your best to hold in your bloodlust. Choso had a suprise for you, you didn't know what yet but he said for you to try hold in your hunger, for him. Of course you did, you took off your coat and shoes, the house was dark and light was appearing from under the door. "Choso, baby?" You said, you heard a yelp form inside the bathroom, you can hear splashing of water. "G-ah! Hold on, darling!" You can hear footsteps from inside, you can see the doorknob turn and it reveals him. Your sweet boyfriend, Choso. He was kinda wet, his black hair down and he smiled sheepishly at you, you can see his fangs and you groan slightly before hugging him. "So where's the suprise, is it you wet?" You chuckle slightly, his face flushes red and he rubs the back of his neck, he sighs and looks at you. "A-ah no! Sorry, is that what you wanted..?" He says, slightly confused, his eyebrows furrow in worry, you shake your head. "N-no, just- nevermind. So the real suprise?" You ask, he grabs your hand gently, his cold skin touching your skin, he walks in and the bathroom is in the dark expect the candles as lights, there are beautiful rose petals and flowers in the bathtub. "Woah" you let, it was beautiful, he smiles and kisses your cheek gently, he rubs your knuckles. "I hope you like it..!" He says, looking excited, you forget about the hunger in you, you kiss him, you found it lovely. "About... We take a b-bath together..?" He suggests, it was obvious that it was ships original plan but he wanted to make sure, you nod and take off your clothes. Freeing your body from your clothes, he gulps and looks away, you smile at him before going in the bathtub, the hot water warming your cold body, the petals float around your body. You go to the other side of the bathtub, your head turns to look behind you, choso gets in. His face still red, you grin and go underwater. "Uh..? Sweety?" He asks, confused, the water moves so does the petals, you pop up, infront of his face, he flinched before he blinks at you, you look at his neck and your hands go up his chest.

Your nails softly rubbing against his skin as your hand goes up, you lean more closer, your cunt clenches around nothing as your mouth touches his pale skin, kissing his chest, he holds your hips as you suck softly on his skin, your fangs glazing over his skin. "a-ah" that's all he can mutter out, your hand goes behind his head as he leans backwards, your mouth goes on his neck, you bite down, he yelps and grips your hips harder, you can feel his dick twitching against your stomach, his hardness standing tall, you suck on his neck, you slowly fill your hunger with his blood. "Choso, 'm love your taste.." You mutter out which he blushes on return. He softly grinds his hips against you. You suck him harder. You softly let out a moan against his pale skin. Your hunger turns into hunger for lechery, you lift yourself by grabbing his shoulders, he moans and opens his mouth when you slide yourself down on him, your wet warmthness clenching around his dick, his moans turn to whimpers, you move. "Ah-, fuck." You moan, his hands are still on your hips, you move up and down, he whines when you stop, teasingly. "Baby, please move, 'm want you.." he whines, you move slowly, after some minutes of teasing, his nails dig into your skin as he moves you, himself. You throw your head back, one of his hands go up to grope your chest, playing with the soft mush, rubbing your nipple by and down by his thumb, you bite your lip, your bottom lip hurts due to your fangs, he holds you closer, thrusting in you even more faster, it makes calling noise, the water splashing around you both, the petals and flowers move around in the tub. "Ag-ah.. 'm love you so much!" He whispers, biting your neck, you let out a small scream, he pulls out of you and thrusts back in, not stopping his harsh thrusts, you push his chest as he slowly gets up, his butt resting on a step in the tub, water drips down both of your bodies. He grabs your ass, using it to thrusts into you, your legs tremble slightly and his mouth finally moves around from your neck, focusing on your anf his pleasure, the light of the candles shine on your bodies. "I love you, Choso! 'm want you forever, s' mark me as yours!" You say, hpace, e nods his head and he goes more faster, his hand going to your clit, rubbing the bud with his thumb, his cold and wet fingers make it feel better, your nails dig into his skin. His dick hits spots in you, that one spot which makes you see stars, your and his head are thrown back, mouth open as you let out a silent scream, eyes are rolled back, and Choso doesn't stop his pace. Continuing to thrust inside of your cunt, his mind goes hazy so does yours and you both don't think about anything else, your mind is cock-drunk and he is pussy-whipped. He is only thinkin' is cumming inside of you and your thinkin' is cumming all over his cock, which you both do so, you being the first one to cum on his dick, you cumt clenching around his hardness as you do, his mouth opens and he lets out a slight moan, his dick twitching and cumming inside of your warmthness, you lean against him and bite his shoulder as he is pumping his semen into you, your cunt is fill his dick and his cream, he moans and pants, you weakly get up, semen dripping form your cunt, onto his legs and into the water. "Fuck..." You say and he holds you, breathing on your hair, you swallow your saliva, his shoulder covered in bite marks and some blood left on his pale skin. "What you say about round two?" You say. "Wha!? I mean sure.. if you want to.."

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