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norrisleclercf1 · 4 months

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Santa's Little Helper

Pairing: Dad!Lando Norris x F!Reader

Rating: PG

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Pregnancy, other than that none just fluff

Requested: Yes/No

Synopsis: Lando is finally coming home for the holidays and decides to play elf

A/N: Yes I broke my hiatus, don't judge me

"Ready to be home?"

Lando lifts his head from the window of his seat and looks at Oscar. They weren't the young kids they were once, long gone the season of '23. Oscar was married with two adorable little girls, Lando having married you years ago.

"Of course, I miss them." He whispers. The season was finally over, and Lando could eventually join his family back home. You, of course, called him and kept in touch, but it was also hard to travel with a toddler and you being pregnant.

"Yeah, I'm flying home soon too. Have to finish up here first." Oscar nods towards the McLaren factory. Groaning, they both climb out of the car, stretching. "Just need to get through this and then can be home," Lando mumbles as the two trudge through the harsh Woking winter. Oscar sighs when the intense heat of the building hits their faces, which makes Lando melt.

"Hurry up, I've got to get back to London before Y/n and Theodore get home." Oscar rolls his eyes as he follows Lando through the factory to the meeting room.

------------------------

Zak knew it was useless to get Lando to focus on the meeting. The older driver needed to be more focused on checking his phone every once in a while. Everyone knew you were out of town and still believed that Lando was in Dubai instead of home in England. Zak could tell that Lando was losing his patience as his knee tapping got quicker and louder. Yep, Zak was ending this now.

"Alright," The CEO claps his hands and stands up, patting Andrea on the back and letting him stop talking. "I think we've had a very long season and year with that," Lando didn't wait as he grabbed his stuff and rushed out of the room. "Have a wonderful holiday." Zak sighs, Oscar chuckling, holding his own phone and leaving. But Zak can hear his voice pick up and the screams of delight from the speaker.

"Well, see you in January." Andrea laughs and pats Zak on the back, walking out.

----------------------------------

" Just, can you please try and delay them?" Lando begs into the phone. Your mother laughs as Lando frantically rushes around your home in London. He only had enough time to sort this out and needed you to be stalled. "Lando, darling, only so much I can do." Your mother chuckled, but her voice grew quiet when you passed by.

"Mom? Who are you talking to?" Lando stills, holding his breathing, thinking that you'd be able to tell it was him through that. "Your aunt sugar plum, want to talk to her?" Lando can practically see your nose scrunching up as you quickly say no and walk away. Sighing in relief, Lando rushes, looking for the rest of the Christmas decorations and the new ones he's bought.

"Really? Calling me the Aunt, that's your sister Ma." Lando teases, and your mother snorts. "That old bat will talk Y/n, poor ear off. So, why should I help you?" Lando rolls his eyes. Your mother and he constantly pick on one another, but it is filled with love. "How about I'll let you hold the baby after Y/n and I?" "Deal, I'll hide the car keys." She hangs up, which has Lando cheering.

Stopping, he looks down at his feet and smiles, dropping to his knees. "Well, buddy, we better get started." Your English Cocker Spaniel, named Cookie. Cookie barks loudly and licks Lando's hand. "Good girl," Lando stands and looks around. "First, let's set the mood." Walking over, he hooks his phone up to the speakers and smiles as Frank Sinatra's voice fills the house.

Lando doesn't start decorating right away. Instead, he starts cleaning the house. You were about 7 months pregnant, and it was hard to do some house chores. He wanted to show you how much he loves you. Lando wasn't one with words; more actions and giving. Moving through the house, he pushes open his son's room and smiles.

Theodore loved Formula 1 and Marvel. His room was nothing but decked out in its merchandise. A picture of you and Lando holding him in front of his McLaren and then one giant group, one with all his uncles. Theodore's room was covered in his toys, and Lando gets to work. Putting up the toys and grabbing one of his shopping bags, he strips the bed of its sheets. He got these cute little snowmen for the sheets. Theodore matched the sheets with the identical snowmen for the comforter he got.

He grabs another bag and takes out mini decorations. A little fake tree with Marvel and f1 ornaments. He gets to work setting it up. He hums along to the song with Cookie at the foot of the bed, watching Lando. A mini navy blue tree skirt covers the bottom of the tree and places fake gifts there. Next, Lando hands up some little fairy lights on the wall behind the bed. He puts a moose, snowman, elf, and Santa stuffies on the corner and then two red and green pillows on the bed.

Lando finishes it by hanging up a little zipline with an Elf on it and flying over the bed with a remote. "Alright, time for the main room." Cookie whines but happily follows Lando through the house.

-------------------------------

"Momma, hungry," Theodore whines as you pull up the driveway. "I know, babes, we'll eat when we get inside. It's been a long day. The baby was kicking your bladder. Theodore wanted nothing more than his Daddy. Lando wasn't answering his phone, and then your mother hid your fucking keys. "Hungry," Theodore whines, helping him out of the car; you just nod.

"Come on, I'll make you some nuggies." Theodore smiles at you as you open the front door and freeze. There greeting you was your Christmas tree covered in soft lights, ornaments, and gifts already wrapped and under the tree. "Wha," "Hey, dinner is ready." You turn your head to see your husband wearing a Mrs. Clause apron. "Lando?" Your husband smiles, and Theodore gasps.

"Mommy, Santa was here." Theo giggles and points at the gifts. "Um, excuse me, little man? Aren't you happy to see me?" Theo squeals louder, running toward his father and swinging him up Theodore, babbling happily. You clear your throat, trying to gain control of your emotions, but you can't notice that the house is also clean. "Lando," You whisper, hand cradling your belly.

He gets that tooth-goofy smile of his and walks over and hugs you. "Mommy, Daddy is home," Theodore whispers, which makes you laugh through your tears. "Yes, buddy. Daddy is home." Lando snorts, wanting to make a joke but doesn't. "Alright, there are nuggies and some mac and cheese that's getting cold." Theodore wiggles out of his father's hold and zooms into the kitchen. Lando chuckles but stops when you pull him down, kissing him deeply.

Lando moans as he pulls you in and dips you slightly before pulling you back up. "Well, hello to you too." He grumbles, blinking his eyes open as you push back his unruly curls. "I'm guessing that wasn't my aunt talking to my mother earlier?" Lando blushes and looks away. "No idea what you're talking about." You giggle and kiss him on his cheeks, smiling.

"Why'd you do all this?" Lando pulls back, needing clarification on your question. "Baby, you're growing our baby, and besides, I love you and wanted to make things easier for you. I'm your husband. This is the bare fucking minimum. The dishes are done, the laundry is folded, the sheets are all clean, and dinner is cooked. Now, let's eat our nuggets before Theo, the little gremlin, eats them all." Nodding, you head into the kitchen, seeing Theo stare hard at his plate.

"Theo, you could've started." You push back his hair, and he shakes his head no. "Daddy is home, but the elves still might be here. Have to be good." Lando snorts and plates your food, and your mouth waters and sit down. "That's right, Theo, better be good, or I'll bring back the elves." Rolling your eyes, you knew the elves were no more than Carlos, Charles, Max V, Max F, Oscar, and Daniel.

"Yeah, the elves." You remark, and Lando cuts you a glare, but it is playful. "Hey, the elves are the ones who got all the gifts. Don't be mean to the elves." "Yes, and you were all wonderful little helpers." You smile, and Lando slowly pushes back the evidence of the others helping him.

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keerysfreckles · 3 months

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A Luke fic with a read who’s the daughters of Aphrodite and its capture the flag and she uses her charms to distract him and ends up failing bc once her team she loses they see her and Luke but he has kiss marks all over his face and she’s blushing having her lipstick smudged??

all my love — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, making out (tehehe), petnames used (princess, babe, love), like one curse word

a/n: I. LOVE. THIS. REQUEST.

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n was well aware how much luke loved capture the flag. she knew he always helped annabeth lead the blue team to victory. being luke's girlfriend, she also knew his every move. which explains why y/n's currently waiting in a secluded spot in the middle of the forest, in between the lake and the mess hall.

she knew luke would show up soon, on his way to get the red team's flag, the team y/n was on. but capture the flag was the last thing on her mind.

the previous night luke had just so happened to make y/n, the overly confident daughter of aphrodite, become flustered in front of luke's whole cabin. this was going to be y/n's payback.

she tossed her red horse-hair helmet to the side many minutes ago. she hated how it messed up her hair. only a few minutes go by, until she hears rustled footsteps, leaves crunching under someone's shoe.

"princess?"

y/n turns at luke's voice.

"hi handsome," she smiles, waving her fingers.

luke takes off his own helmet, holding it between his arm and waist.

"what are you doing out here? shouldn't you be gaurding your flag, or fighting someone?"

y/n only walked closer, and she could've sworn you heard luke's heart rate pick up from where she was standing.

"i wanted to see you," y/n smiled again, her voice was soft. a contrast from the loud yelling from the capture the flag game going on around the couple.

y/n now stood close enough and wrapped her hands around luke's neck, playing with the dark curls. he hated to admit it but he could sit with y/n's hands in his hair for hours.

luke's helmet fell to the ground, while he held onto her waist.

y/n knew what she was doing to luke. being the daughter of aphrodite definitely had it's perks. y/n however, was lucky. not only could she make anyone fall in love with her with the bat of an eye, she had the power to wrap any soul around her finger. the ladder was happening to luke. what? she loved teasing him.

before luke could ask anymore questions, y/n stood up on her tip toes to kiss luke's lips. he gasped, taken aback by the action, but of course he kissed back. y/n's hands only tighted on his hair as she started deepening the kiss. luke walked the two backwards, pushing y/n's back into a tree. y/n pulled her lips away from luke, but only to place another kiss at the corner of his lips, a few on his cheeks, nose and three on his neck.

luke's ears perked at the sound a horn blowing in the distance. it was chiron, standing next to clarisse with the blue flag in her hands.

"you little cheater!" luke poked y/n in her sides, "you distracted me."

y/n only shrugs, "who's to say?"

luke and y/n both make their way towards the mess hall, where they heard the horn sound coming from.

once the two apear out of the woods, percy's quick to nudge annabeth. the girl turns, and gasps so loudly that it catches the attention of the nearby campers.

"holy shit, what happened to you?" clarisse shouts in amusement from beside chiron.

"clarisse," chiron states in a lecturing tone.

"sorry, wrong time."

the campers all see y/n and luke standing beside one another. luke wasn't aware of the plethora of red lipstick stains all over his face and neck. he turned to y/n, confused as ever, and just watched as she wiped away her smudged lipstick.

"told you i'd get you back from last night."

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writersdrug · 3 days

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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 3

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Warnings: mild cursing, boredom, thas really it

A/N: Holy shit I cannot believe how much love this is getting, and it's so much fun to write!! I've decided to makes this a fully fledged fic instead of just a drabble, and I'll be posting it on ao3 too! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also sorry if formatting changes, I'm trying to have some sort of order among my writing.

Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.

You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.

You decided to phone a friend.

"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.

"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."

"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."

You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."

"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"

"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."

"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"

You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."

"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."

You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"

"You know it! Nina's coming too."

You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."

"She'd better be. Love you!"

The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...

Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.

"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.

She sighed and looked away.

Maybe it was time for a walk.

"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.

"Fancy a walk?" You asked.

She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."

On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.

"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.

You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"

She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.

Oh, right. Military dog.

"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.

For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?

You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.

Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.

"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"

She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.

"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"

She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"

------------

Simon sat stoicly on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.

Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?

He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.

"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.

"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.

"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"

Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."

"Who'd ye get?"

"What's it to you?"

"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"

"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.

He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.

But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?

Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.

...

Fuck.

He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...

He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.

------------

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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

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The Royal Consort. Part 3

"Mr. Fenton! Will you be attending the Wayne Charity Gala with your husband?" A reporter demands, thrusting her mic into Danny's face.

"I-" He tries to say, but another reporter jumps in.

"Is it true Bruce Wayne is attempting to have his kids seduce your husband?"

"What?"

"Mr. Fenton, is it true that you could stop a war simply by batting your eyelashes?!"

"Hey, now that's uncalled for."

"What is the political climate in the wake of the disbanded Anti-Ecto Acts?"

Danny couldn't even tell where the questions were coming from. He tried to push through the crowd of new crews, but every step of the way, more and more people crowded him.

He should've stayed in the hotel room Mr. Wayne had rented for his family, but Danny had thought he could sneak out and explore Gotham.

After Dani had burst into the meeting room, in all her ghostly glory, the Justice League had allowed them a short recess so his parents could meet their "granddaughter."

He is still determining exactly what she told them, as he is too busy to dodge more of Batman's questions. He just hoped she could keep the ruse up in the face of his parents' smothering apologies.

His dad wrapped her up I'm his arms, sobbing the whole time while his mother was snapping pictures of Dani, crying about how much she had grown.

Thank the stars Jazz had pulled her "niece" to the side for a short conversation. When they came back, Dani had taken the princess role so well that she answered most of the Ghost Zone questions like the ambassador she was pretending to be.

Her age? Yeah, that was off cause the time zone difference in the Ghost Zone. She was only four years in human years but looked sixteen due to her half-blood and where she grew up.

The chances of war? No, her dad had appeased the war council after the United Nations called the USA on their bullshit.

Demands Phantom had? Respect the dead. Honor the rights of his people. Leave the natural portals alone, and if his subjects were causing issues call one of his to take care of it.

Did she not need an anchor? She's half-human, so she could pop between worlds at will, but only because the Ghost King allowed it.

Where had she been before Phantom took the throne? Danny was not in a stage of life to raise a child- he had only been fifteen!- so Phantom raised her in his lair. Yes, she came to visit Danny.

Did she practically say she was a child of separated parents? Yes. Did she regret it? Only when rumors about Phantom wanting to replace Danny sprung, and she had people trying to get her to introduce them to his "father."

How strong was she? Step into the ring, Wonder Woman; let's test it. (They did spar, and surprisingly, she gave Wonder Woman a run for her money, but in the end, the more experienced fighter won. The Amazonian offered to train her)

By the end of it, Danny and Dani left with stacks of possible legislation about peace among their people. They both promised to get it to Phantom.

Just as they left, Batman informed them that Bruce Wayne had invited them to the Gala. He also offered them asylum in Gotham by housing them in his family manor until the media died.

Danny had almost accepted, but Jazz had stepped in with sharp eyes and a cold smile. "Please tell Mr. Wayne we are honored by the offer, but we would prefer our own space."

Batman grunted. "Would a penthouse be predered?"

"Yes, thank you."

He loved Jazz.

His mom had whispered in Danny's ear as they were teleporting- the Justice League had teleporting technology!?- back to Earth. "Do you think the rumors about Bruce Wayne being Batman's lover are true?"

Danny had yet to pay much mind to Wes Weston's theories, but honestly, the way Batman was able just to promise things on Mr. Wayne's behalf.....well, if the Box Ghost and Lunch Lady could happen, why not a billionaire and a crime-fighting

Danny, Jazz, and Dani had been hiding in the pen house for about three days. His parents had returned home to secure their lab after the fifth time curious meddlesome reporters had tripped their house security.

Danny will admit he went stir-crazy, so using his powers, he turned invisible and went out when his sisters had been watching a show. He had made it for about five hours when someone saw him buying a coffee and tweeted his location.

His sightseeing had been cut short by the crowds of people that swarmed him.

"Mr. Fenton, what do you say about parents criticizing how early you married?"

Danny was pushed up against the wall by the crowd, wishing he could just turn ghost and drop this whole thing. He felt a burning sensation in the back of his eyes, and for one horrifying moment, he thought they were going to record him bursting into tears when a man broke through the crowd.

"That is far enough!" The man placed himself in front of Danny, shielding the eighteen-year-old. His British accent made the sharpness of his words even more scorching. "You all know that a press conference will be in a few days and that surrounding a royal could be an act of war! Get back!"

Danny had a moment of relief until someone snatched his arm. He flinches away, going for a punch, but it gets caught by the person tugging him through the crowd.

Danny could only blink at the smiling face of Dick Grayson until the man helped him into a car. The British man quickly came back, jumping into the driver's seat and speeding off as the crowd of reporters tried to get one last photo.

Danny's breaths were coming in short, fast puffs. He wasn't very sure what was going on. He couldn't think. There were so many flashes. So many voices. So many people-!.

A hand pushed his head between his knees, rubbing his back. "It's okay. You're okay. "

Danny gasped, tears finally falling as he tried to explain why he had done something stupid. "I-i just wanted to see- the landmarks- I didn't mean- I- I."

"Shhh. I know. It's okay. You're okay."

After a while, Danny was able to sit up. His saviors had asked him to name five things he saw, four things he could hear, three things he could listen to, and one thing he could taste to calm down, but it worked. Only then did he realize there were more people in the fancy car with them.

A boy his age sat on his right, having been the one to push his head down. It took only a second to recognize him: Tim Drake, teenage CEO and one of the most attractive men he had ever seen.

A blond teenage girl who also seemed their age sat in the passenger seat, though she twisted around to give him a warm smile. She was also very gorgeous.

Not to mention Dick Grayson, who had a warm hand on his back. Adonis must have returned as the first adopted son of Bruce Wayne because, goddam, that man was fine.

Even the British man was handsome for someone his grandfather's age.

Had he died (again) and gone to heaven?

"Here," Drake placed a cold water bottle in his palm, offering the gobsmacked Danny a small smile. "Drink. It'll help."

"Ugh...I.. thank you for rescuing me," He managed to gasp out.

"Don't mention it. We all know the hell of the paparazzi. Glad you alright. " the girl said. "I'm Stephanie Brown, but you can call me Steph. The guy to your right is Tim Drake, the one on your left is Dick Grayson, and this fine man driving us is Alfred Pennyworth."

"I'm Danny Fenton." He says, taking a swing. The cold water went down his throat and grounded him.

"We know. You've made quite the wave with your marriage." Grayson said though not unkindly. "We'll have to take you to our manor to switch cars; otherwise, they'll just wait for us at the hotel."

Danny thought it over before whispering, "Can I message my sister? She must be worried-"

A portal rips open in front of him. The other humans all let out cries of alarm but not as loudly as Danny when Phantom's head pokes out of it.

He has a moment to wonder how in the world that was possible until the ghost waves at him using one of Clockwork's necklaces. Oh, it's him from the future. Okay. That's happening.

"Darling! I felt you in distress! What happened?! Shall I punish everyone in Gotham? " Phantom questions in a tone Danny had never been aware he could make. It's smooth. It's all-knowing. It's seductive.

What the fuck is going on?

"There is no need for any form of punishment. Not to worry, your highness." Drake quickly jumps in. "We would never allow anything to happen to your husband. I will personally keep Mr. Fenton away from any danger. "

Danny watched in slight horror as his future ghost self gave the other man a long look before smirking. "I appreciate the offer, and you are certainly my type with that black hair and blue eyes, but I am fine with only one husband. Danny will decide to add you to the marriage if he would like to have more partners."

Drake blinks wide started eyes. "I- I beg your pardon?"

"I have a protection and ice core. Proclaiming to keep my romantic partner safe is the same as asking for my hand in marriage due to the customs of protective spirits. Were you not aware?"

"I wasn't!" Danny interrupts loudly. " I was very unaware that meant marriage proposals!"

Phantom gives him a cheeky smile, and suddenly Danny understands why all his Rouges had wanted to beat his face so often. He can be rather annoying.

"No one will be above you, darling. You are the embodiment of beauty, and I would never desire another. However, the royal family is allowed concubines. You may take human ones if you wish to. I wouldn't want to ruin any of your fun."

"Who told you to say this!?" Danny demands, forgetting himself for a moment. Or the watchful eyes of the Waynes swinging between them with prompt attention.

"Why just the royal advisor!" Phantom laughs, his white hair bouncing as he tilts his head.

Jazz. She was responsible for this. How could he have thought she was sane?

"I don't want a concubine!" Danny yells, face burning. He's never been more mortified in his life, including walking down. For breakfast in Superman boxers, only to find Superman at the bottom of the stairs.

What a terrible day that was to run out of clean pants.

Phantom smiles. "I love you too, darling. I shall see you soon. I do not wish to strain your body anymore."

He thrusts his head back into the glowing green portal, and with a soft pop, he's gone. The car is utterly silent until Grayson whispers.

"Does this mean Tim just got married through fae laws?"

Danny whips his head at him. "No! It does not!"

Drake lets out a small breath of relief. "Oh, thank God. Not that you aren't hot, Mr. Fenton, but I'm not ready for marriage."

Danny wonders if he can reach the door handle to throw himself out of a speeding car. He knows somewhere in the future. He is laughing his ass off at current him.

"Dude, none taken. Could you clarify how I ended up here? I just wanted to jump across Gotham roofs, and suddenly, I can marriage trap people."

Danny wishes he could kick his own ass- not counting Dan- as Steph breaks into uncontrolled laughter.

"Oh, Danny, you're going to fit in well!" She says between wheezing.

Grayson raises his hand, face glued to his phone. "Bruce just sent in the family group chat that none of us are allowed near Phantom."

"Why?" Danny asks.

Grayson shrugs. "We're all his type, and Bruce's heart can't handle that."

"Fair enough"

(Part 1) (Part 2)

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #the royal consort #Part 3 #Danny time traveled just keep up the ruse #Jazz figured out Batman was suspecting something so she sent him back to give Phantom a Brucie Wayne cover #Bruce is having a heart attack #Once again Alfred is Real MVP

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hotpinkstars · 17 days

Text

LAZY MORNINGS - aventurine x reader

- your husband gets a call early in the morning, kicking a start to your day. but instead of him going into work, he stays in your arms.

- hellooo everyone! i'm back and i changed my theme up a little bit. thank you to all of the condolences i received, it made me smile and also made me happy :) but i feel ready enough to write once again, and i've been having aventurine brainrot...... hm... also my bad if this is really ooc i've read most of the penacony story and have payed extra to aventurines parts (i can also write ratio for all you ratio simps who want more food..) but my brain is wired weird so.... i fuck some things up anyways enjoy!!!!!!!!!

- no warnings, wc 528

You wake up, and immediately check the clock on the side of your nightstand. It reads 5:30 am.

You rub your eyes, scanning the room before your eyes land on your husband, Aventurine, who's got one hand in his hair and the other holding his phone up to his ear.

He was a beautiful sight; his eyes half open, hair messy, and pajamas in a bundle with one button keeping it on his torso. You lay a hand on the naked part of his chest, letting him know you were awake. He looks down at you, shooting you a soft smile before speaking into his phone.

“...Alright, I understand,” He said, his tone laced with irritation and sleepiness. “Lets schedule the interview for today.”

You sighed, replacing your hand with your head, trying to go back to sleep. You pull the silk sheets over your ear, everything below your eyes covered by the warm covers. Aventurine wraps an arm around your body, hanging up on the man who called to inform him of what you assumed was something important, and put his phone down next to him.

“Sorry if I woke you, sweetheart,” He sighs, wrapping his other arm around your torso. You nuzzle into him, eyes closed. You mumble something incoherent, and he chuckles. “Someones tired this morning.”

You nod, and he kisses the top of your head. “Do you have to leave early this morning?”

“Nope, not today. They wanted me to, but I'll just say I didn’t feel well enough to get out of bed. I don’t miss work too often, so they won't bat too much of an eye, hopefully."

You giggle a bit, snuggling even deeper into his chest, his heartbeat audible. It comforted you, it always does, and you could’ve fallen asleep right away if it weren’t for his voice keeping you conscious.

“I wish I could bring you to work with me, but unfortunately I can’t. I have to work with Ratio again today,” he groans, putting a hand up to his forehead. “I’d rather spare you of the nuisance he is.”

You laugh once more. “I bet he’s not that bad. You just make him sound like a geek, that’s all.”

“He’s much more than that. Much more insufferable.”

“I doubt it.”

You both laugh before simply holding each other. It seemed like it was only the two of you on this planet; the sounds of birds chirping brought a harmonious feeling, and it was as if none of your worries were able to break through your bedroom door and haunt you.

You tried to stay awake with your husband, considering he was probably up for the day due to the ever so rude interruption at such an early time in the morning. He was used to waking at this time, so he would’ve likely been up soon anyway. You, on the other hand, usually wake up when he’s long gone for the day, so it’s just natural to want to sleep a little longer.

“Fall back asleep, babe,” he pressed a tiny peck to the top of your head, burying his nose in your soft locks. “I’ll be here when you wake back up.”

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine #kakavasha #aventurine x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #kakavasha x reader

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beesspacedotorg · 3 months

Text

Handle With Care

Summary: You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better. 2.5k words

Warnings: there's sex, but honestly it feels like someone accidentally got porn in my fluff so do with that what you will. reader is as gender neutral as physically possible. reader is also lowkey a crybaby, sorry but actually I'm not

Notes: Hello adoring public. It turns out, I can write fanfiction, and with the encouragement of Juno and Ems, I can also post it! There is a cat in this, she was inspired by a cat my family used to have and a cat my family currently has. They're both calico which I think explains everything you need to know about them.

There’s a lot you can say about the day you had today, and most of them start with sh- and end in -itty. You’re thinking on this as you dive head first onto the rough material of your couch, great for sitting, bad for face planting. You hear a scratching by your head and absentmindedly bat your cat away from the arm of the couch, mumbling something about how she has a perfectly good cat tree two feet away before resuming your completely justified sulking.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come home. How was your day?” There’s a voice above you and you can picture him in your mind's eye, leaning against the back of the couch as he stares at your limp form, probably eyeing the shoes you didn’t take off by the door. You mumble something half hearted in response and he huffs before the sound of walking hits your ears and all the breath leaves your body at once. He’s sitting on you. This motherfucker is sitting on you.

“Get off, Minho” You had to tilt your head to the side, it’s hard enough to breathe through couch fabric as is, much less when there’s a full grown man sitting on your back.

“You should answer people when they try to talk to you, jagiya.”

“You shouldn’t sit on people while they’re laying down, yeobo.” Your voice is a lot more acidic than his was and a twinge of guilt settles on you before it dissipates as he shifts and manages to place more weight on your back.

“Hmm. I guess we’re both doing things that we shouldn’t then. How tragic.” His voice is deadpan, and you still can’t see him from where your head is turned- your view is limited to the back of the couch and his arm in your periphery- but you can feel the dead stare he’s aiming at your skull. There’s a silence for a few moments while you engage in a war of attrition, neither of you willing to give up just yet, but it’s getting genuinely hard to breathe and your back is starting to hurt.

“It sucked, please get off.” He does, patting your back consolingly.

“See? Was that so hard?” He guides your head to his lap as you both sit back down, petting over your hair like he would his cats. “Tell me, what’s got my baby in such a tizzy?”

You grumble at him, rolling over to shove your face into his stomach, tired and petulant. He sighs softly, but keeps patting your head, so you know he’s mostly just doing it for show.

“That kind of day, hmm, jagi?” And you nod again. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from a normal day, it’s just that the right things managed to go very wrong and subsequently ruined your day in a way that has pressure forming behind your eyes and your voice cracking stupidly every time you try to talk.

You both sit for a while before he puts something on the TV and gently shoves your head off his lap.

“Hey-”

“Do you want the dinner I worked so hard on to go cold?” He has his hands on his hips in front of you and you laugh slightly at how funny he looks. He rolls his eyes and goes, coming back with two bowls of something before he forcefully sits you up and shoves it in your hands.

“Eat.”

“Yes, chef.”

The food is delicious, it always is when Minho cooks it, he’s got a talent for it you’ve never really seen firsthand, and you consider yourself truly blessed to be able to eat it as often as he’s able to make it for you. Still, gratefulness and taste aside, your day was shitty enough that every mouthful tastes like ash and turns to rot in your stomach, leaving you with an unsettling queasiness that shouldn’t ever be attributed to your boyfriend’s cooking. You’re shoving the contents around with a spoon before he huffs- a real one this time- and takes the bowl from you, setting it on the coffee table next to his own before he mutes the TV.

“Okay. Quite clearly something is wrong. What can I do to help you?” You think he knows, but you like that he asks anyway. Minho always asks, always lets you talk and sort out whatever’s going on before he tries to help. Even if your answer is a simple shake of the head, a simple, I don’t feel like it, become a mind reader, he always asks before he helps. Sometimes you wonder how he always knows what you need, others you just decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

You huff and your lip wobbles pathetically and he coos, slightly condescending.

“Crying already? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s teasing, but his hands are gentle as he pulls you into his lap, his hands are gentle as they find their way under your shirt, his mouth is gentle as it kisses down the side of your face to your neck.

“‘M sorry,” you’re not the biggest fan of crying, neither is he, but for different reasons. He’s not someone who’s brought to tears easily, you are, but there’s an inherent shame in it, you think. Something so embarrassing about getting worked up enough to start crying like a baby, and so as much and as often as you feel like crying, you don’t. This he also knows, because he knows everything.

“Aish, why are you sorry for? I didn’t tell you to apologize, did I?” He taps your cheek lightly, causing you to look up at him, he plants a kiss on your nose, then your mouth.

“Sweet thing, don’t worry about anything except for what I tell you to, okay?” And you nod and he smiles.

You’re not much for talking in times like these, everything is so sensitive and soft and talking feels like a cheese grater on this cloudlike moment so you don’t and he knows, so he doesn’t chide you for it. Usually, he would. He’d crack a hand down on your ass or grab a fistful of your hair and tell you that he asked you a question so he expects an answer, but that’s not what you need right now, so he doesn’t. He just kisses your jaw again before he puts both of his warm hands under your shirt and lets his fingers poke at your chest.

He always says his hands are small, but really, you wouldn’t be able to tell, not with the way he cups your chest in his hand and lets his thumb brush over your nipple, gentle and reverent. It’s not much, not as much as he usually gives you, but it’s enough to have your mouth dropping open with a gasp and your back arching into his hand, it’s enough to have him giggling softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive today?” He’s teasing again, as soft as he is right now, he’s still Minho, he still likes to poke fun. You huff, biting at his shoulder softly in retaliation and he lets you, pinching your nipple just this side of too much in retribution before one of his hands wanders down to your ass, groping and squishing the flesh. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pushes your hips forward onto his, friction sending sparks up your spine.

“Min-” You’re desperate and he hasn’t even done anything yet, not really. A few stray touches and you already feel yourself shattering to pieces in his grasp, you’re not afraid though, and not quite ashamed. He’ll take care of you, he always does.

He does it again, guides your hips forward until you’ve gotten the hint to keep going by yourself and you’re struck with the urge to kiss him, so you do, removing your head from the home it’s made on his shoulder and making a go at his mouth. It’s messy, your coordination shot already, and you almost smash your forehead into his nose before he catches your head with a laugh.

“Easy there. Bloody noses aren’t exactly sexy.” You disagree, he could make anything sexy, but you don’t have time to voice that thought as he pushes his mouth onto yours and lovingly shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss is messy, they always are. However gentle he is, he can never seem to stop himself from kissing you until your face is covered in drool and spit, and if it were anyone else, you’d be mildly repulsed, but you like the way he looks at your mouth after it’s over, so you let it slide.

You pull away, chest burning and heaving and look at him before you still, eyes drawn to something by his head.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t answer, gaze still drawn away from him.

“There’s a little white girl staring at me.” He turns his head to the side and laughs as he comes face to face with your cat, her green eyes boring into him. He scratches her head affectionately and lets her headbutt him before your center of gravity is shifting drastically and you’re clinging onto him for dear life.

The bedroom door shuts before you’re very aware of it and suddenly there’s a mattress under your back and a Minho over your front and his hands are up your shirt again, this time shoving it off of you until your chest is bare. You shiver slightly from the cold and then there’s a blanket being shoved around your shoulders and you smile up at him. He knows you so well, he loves you so much and your eyes are welling with tears.

“Aigoo, my little crybaby. It’s just a blanket,” there’s a kiss on each of your cheek bones, “silly thing. Save your tears for when my cock is in you, hmm?” Your breath stutters again and your hands are tugging at his shirt until he takes it off, he laughs again when your hands immediately find his chest.

“I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”

“They’re nice boobs.” The sentence catches him off guard, makes him laugh hard enough that he loses his balance a little and his weight settles onto you more. It’s comforting, like a weighted blanket that can talk and walk and kiss you silly.

Then, his hands are under your bottoms, tugging them off your legs and you’re suddenly wearing nothing and he’s still in his pants, which you find disgustingly unfair. You reach down and tug on the hem off his sweats, pouting and huffing until he gets the message and tugs those off too.

“You just want to get me naked,” he starts. “I can’t believe you just want me for my body.” You nod cheekily in response and he smacks your shoulder.

“Yah! See if I’m ever nice to you again!” But he’s kissing your neck again as his hands guide your legs to cross over his hips before he’s touching you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head tip back into the pillows.

“There we go. So pretty when you’re like this, hmm? So soft and sweet for me.” His fingers are in you now, pressing insistently against that spot that makes white splash in your vision and reflexively forces your legs shut. He grunts slightly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, pressure just this side of uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything though, just keeps his pace steady inside you until you’re almost tipping over and he stops. You look at him with something akin to betrayal, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to complain he’s sliding home and you don’t have enough air to say anything anyway.

He catches it though, rolls his eyes as he sees the way your attitude was about to flare up.

“What did I tell you earlier, jagiya? Don’t worry about anything unless I tell you to worry about it. I always take care of you, don’t I?” He does, he’s good to you like that. He sounds slightly out of breath already, unusual for him, but you don’t mind because it feels like you’re seconds away from God’s doorstep yourself.

His pace is slow and deep, bass knock steady even as you squirm under him. If this were a normal situation, he’d stop, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly until you stayed still, but this isn’t a normal situation so he lets you wiggle, only huffing in mild irritation before he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re gonna knock us off the damn bed, baby.” But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you feel too good to really process his words anyway. You love him, you really do, and you’re struck with the overwhelming urge to tell him, to let him know, to make him know. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in until he hisses and levels you with a glare, one that instantly softens when he meets your eyes.

“I love you,” it comes out of you as a sob, like it was wrenched from your vocal chords before you gave yourself permission to think it. “I love you so much.” You’re rambling now, repeating those three words over and over and Minho coos, hips faltering just slightly. He always goes weak when you tell him you love him, and you keep it in your back pocket like a weapon for the times that you’re in trouble.

“I love you, too, jagiya. ‘S that why you’re crying? Hmm? Love me so much it’s gotta spill out from your pretty eyes?” You nod in response, breath hitching from the pleasure and the tears and his hand drifts from its place on your hip to touch you again and you’re spilling liquid heat before you can really register what’s happening. You feel him inside you, too, insides suddenly molten warm but you’re floating too high for it to feel like it’s happening to you, like you’ve been temporarily ejected from your body.

When your soul settles back into your bones, Minho is laying next to you, staring at you with his wide eyes, you look over at him and smile.

“Is boba really worth it?” He looks confused at your question before you poke him on the eyelid and he laughs.

“Feel better?” You consider for a moment. Your teeth don’t feel like they’re too big for their sockets and your bones no longer feel itchy. You’re hungry, but mostly, your mind is quiet. There’s no overwhelming pressure behind your eyes and when you talk your voice cracks from sleep instead of from the force of choking back tears.

“Much. I’m hungry, though.” You give your best impression of puppy eyes at him and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. You’ve been told that your pleading face looks mildly perturbing, but Minho always says you remind him of Soonie when you do it. It makes you feel slightly bad for Soonie, soon the cat isn’t going to be able to get anything off of Minho because you’ll have rendered him immune.

He comes back with your reheated bowl in one hand and your cat in the other.

“She screamed at me until I picked her up. Stood on my feet and hollered.” He winces slightly. “I should’ve put on boxers because she almost mistook my dick for a toy.”

#bee blurbs #ft.lino #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #lee minho x reader #the last time i wrote fanfiction and posted it it was very mid langst so lets hope this is better #this is saved in my google docs as “Sorry to God and also Myself” btw

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aluciahaz · 2 months

Note

Sub Adam smut pleasepleasepleaspelalslePLEASEPLEASE i NEED that dickhead to be put in his place I am BEGGING (fem reader<3)

my favorite genre is putting adam in his place 🤝 also how do writers make text yellow on mobile all i could find was orange 💀

know your place

— adam x f!reader

—includes : pegging, crying, begging, bondage, edging, bottom!adam, dom!fem reader

he’s pathetic.

adam, the first man, seemed more like an annoying bird than an angel as he kept boasting about his status and yapping about his dumb stories. how could someone so renowned as him be such a brat?

it was clear he needed some training.

and if no one was going to teach him on how to shut up, you’ll do it yourself.

“mfph—! mmmh!”

adam’s incomprehensible whines sounded better than any foolish joke he’d try and tell you.

his mouth was covered, his hands were bound, and his eyes were blinded with the fabric ripped off of his ostentatious clothes.

the tears stemming from his woeful desperation soaked into the makeshift blindfold, but still streamed down his face like a weak river. the way his mouth quivered around the spit-covered cloth was so pathetic that it was almost endearing.

almost.

if only he wasn’t such a dick all the time, maybe you’d have some more empathy.

his body is trembles as he arches his back again, a loud cry leaving his restrained mouth once more as you drive your strap inside of him, constantly hitting the spot that made him feel like he was in heaven. or well, another heaven.

the vibrator on his tip certainly was helping him feel like he was ascending too.

although, unfortunately for him, the cock ring stopped him from truly meeting god. or maybe lucifer, considering how sinful this all was.

his wings would flail beneath him like a caught dove, flapping and batting against the soft bedsheets every time he got close.

which of course, you’d follow it up by slowing down both the vibrator and your hips.

it made him wail every time, slamming the back of his head down onto the pillow as he begged for you to let him come.

but how would you know? you couldn’t hear any words coming from his mouth.

“i didn’t quite catch that, what did you say?”

“mphf—mm!! mh—hm—hmm!”

he couldn’t speak even if he didn’t have the fabric between his lips. his mind was thoroughly melted, swirling with only thoughts of you and the pleasure he was experiencing. there was no way he could possibly be coherent.

the night keeps going like this. adam, the self-proclaimed best playboy around heaven, getting absolutely ruined by a woman. his weary moans and frail keens fell onto deaf ears. his begging, simply incomprehensible as you show him how weak he was under your touch. he doesn’t know how long it’s been, but surely too long!

too bad you don’t think so.

later, you finally pull off the makeshift gag after what you deem is enough time for him to remember that he’s just a feeble man when it comes to you. that you were the one who truly had the power around here.

“PLEASE! please—please please oh, fuck please—!” his voice would fray as it got higher, drool slipping down his bottom lip as he pleaded.

“please what?”

“plea—please…ha, lemme cum—ngh!” he grits his teeth as you thrust particularly roughly, raising the speed of the vibrator as you do so. it drives him insane, your cruelty.

“no.”

you could only describe his sound as a guttural scream, crying for you, his true goddess, to let him cum. it reeks of desperation, his writhing, his now jumbled mess of begging, his now breaking spirit.

he’s yours, yours, yours.

he doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud.

“i’m sorry—i’m sorryi’msorryi’msorry—PLEASE!” he whines, hoping that you’d take mercy on someone like him.

and finally, you do.

you were a kind angel after all, unlike him.

you rip the blindfold off of him, welcomed with his perfectly debauched face before lifting his legs over your shoulders—he really was flexible!—and taking the cock ring off, reveling in his beautifully demolished state.

“what do you say?”

“THANK YOU! thankyouthankyooou—fuckfuck FUCK!” he sucked in a breath before a long drawn out cry tumbles past his cracking lips, and for once, you like what’s coming out of his mouth.

with your word, adam finds his release, falling from his already corrupted grace. his eyes roll back like he’s died once more, his body, once so animated and jumpy, now stiff for a brief second as he rides his high.

you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you with that glazed over look in his eyes. you don’t even know if he can see you, but the action alone made him groan weakly in response.

“know your place.” you say, releasing his chin.

adam, once so full of himself, nods in agreement, sniffling as he tries to stop his crying.

a lesson well done, you think.

sorry if the words get repetitive ive been having headaches the past few days 😭 ill pull out my thinking cap soon

tags— @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

#hazbin hotel #sub hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel dom reader #sub adam #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #dom reader #bottom adam

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jobean12-blog · 4 months

Text

It's a Wrap!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Ft Alpine and Winter)

Word Count: 1,211

Summary: Getting anything done with two floofy floofs around is never easy...of course they're just so cute but also pains in the butt (in the best way!)

Author's Note: Just love Bucky with his animals so much and this idea popped into my head. There is no particular Holiday or occasion mentioned here so whatever one you want to use is perfect! The dog, Winter, is the one I always use in my stories- he has three legs and Bucky adopted him and of course there is Alpine our fav kitty. The photos in my moodboard are what I imagine they'd look like! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: Soft and sweet fluff and fun and the cutest animals ever!

“Hey mister!”

Bucky gently tugs the bow from Alpine’s claws.

“That’s not for you to play with! You have plenty of toys!”

Bucky turns to Alpine’s toy bin and points with a stern look. “See…too many toys!”

Winter hops over and nudges Bucky’s arm with a cold nose, a large stuffed duck hanging from his mouth.

Bucky scratches behind the dog’s ears. “I know buddy. That’s your favorite duck.”

Winter’s tail thumps loudly against the side of the couch as he cocks his head to the side.

“If I play now I’ll never get this done,” Bucky tells Winter softly.

He then leans closer to the dog and whispers in his ear. “And if Alpine doesn’t quit his shit I’m gonna have to lock him in the bathroom.”

Winter drops his toy and barks loudly, side eyeing the cat.

“I know,” Bucky says in comradery. “But let’s see how we do.”

Winter promptly does his best stretch and then lays down right next to Bucky.

“Ohhhh big stretch,” Bucky says before giving Winter a pat.

The dog’s long, fluffy and white tail thumps a few more times before he settles quietly, the majority of his body pressed against Bucky’s outstretched leg.

Alpine, not wanting to be left out, sashays over and sits right in front of Bucky, looking up at him with big blue expectant eyes.

“Alpine,” Bucky sighs. “You can’t sit there bud. How am I supposed to wrap?”

The cat blinks several times and then lifts his paw to lick it, clearly uncaring.

Bucky scoops up the cat and positions him on his thigh next to Winter.

Winter ears go up and he sniffs Alpine a few times before settling back down. Alpine gently bats at Winter’s nose before he lays on his side and gets comfortable.

“FINALLY!” Bucky huffs. “Now maybe I can get some things wrapped before Mommy gets home.”

At the word “mommy,” both animals perk up.

“She’ll be home soon,” Bucky assures them with soft pets. “But I need to at least get her gift wrapped first!”

Bucky looks between the rolls of wrapping paper. “Which one should I use?”

Neither Winter nor Alpine respond so Bucky makes a commitment on his own. As soon as he starts to unroll the paper Alpine pounces, pawing and poking at it.

“Alpine!” Bucky chides as he lifts him up. “You can’t play with that!”

Alpine meows loudly as his legs swing back at forth and his tail swishes side to side. Bucky turns the cat so they are face to face.

“Listen you. Unless you’re gonna help you have to behave!”

“MEOW!”

“I’ll put you in the bathroom!”

Winter’s head lifts and he huffs.

“I know I won’t but still…” Bucky grumbles.

He takes Alpine and sets him on his shoulder. “Stay there!”

Alpine digs his claws into Bucky’s Henley and sits perched atop his broad shoulder.

Winter rests his head on Bucky’s thigh.

“Ok, here we go again,” Bucky sighs.

He takes your gift and sets it down in the center of the paper and begins to fold it.

Winter’s wet nose immediately pokes at the paper, leaving a wet spot.

“Doggo!” Bucky says sharply. “Watch that honker.”

Winter’s tail wags still and he scoots closer, inspecting everything with his big black nose.

Once Bucky has it wrapped as best he can he looks at the bag of ribbon.

“This one?” he says as he holds up a particularly pretty one.

Alpine immediately swats at it with a clawed paw and Winter tries to give it a small nibble.

“Shit,” Bucky mutters. “You two are no help!”

Bucky secures the bow as best he can then looks over his handiwork.

“I mean…,” he starts as he looks it over. “It’s the thought that counts right?”

Alpine grows bored with the now wrapped gift and starts to bat at the stray hairs that have fallen loose from Bucky’s bun.

Winter licks Bucky’s hand.

“Thanks guys.”

The sound of the lock turning alerts everyone to your arrival and Bucky quickly hides the gift then follows the animals in their rush to greet you.

“Hi doll face,” Bucky says as he takes you in his arms.

Winter shimmies his large body between the two of you until you pet him and Alpine slips between your legs to rub against you.

“Hi guys!” you smile.

“We missed you,” Bucky says.

“I missed you all more.”

You wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck and press your lips to his.

“What have you been up to?” you whisper.

“Nothin’ much,” Bucky answers.

Winter barks.

You raise an eyebrow and slip from Bucky’s grasp. As you approach the living room Winter bounds past you and starts to dance his paws on top of the mess Bucky left.

“Wrapping?” you ask as Bucky slides up behind you and circles his arms around your waist.

“I thought I should get started,” he murmurs against your ear.

“Want some help?” you ask.

“Definitely,” he answers. “Between these two floofs,” and he motions to Alpine and Winter, “I only got one thing wrapped.”

Bucky sits and leans back along the couch, spreading his legs wide and patting between them. You sit in the open space and rest your back to his chest.

As soon as you grab the wrapping paper, Alpine appears out of nowhere and attacks it.

“See what I’ve been dealing with!” Bucky whines even as you feel his body shake with laughter. “A menace!

Winter, as if knowing he was left out, tries to smash his way onto Bucky’s lap.

“TWO MENACES!” Bucky adds in a huff.

You giggle and pick up Alpine, smooshing him to your chest and cooing at him sweetly.

“Have you been driving daddy nuts all afternoon my sweet boy?”

Alpine nuzzles his head under your chin and purrs.

“And what about you,” you say to Winter as you wrap your free arm around his fluffy neck and scratch his head. “Who’s my good boy?”

Winter’s whole-body wiggles in joy and he starts to lick your face.

“Aw Buck. They couldn’t have been that bad!”

Bucky grumbles something inaudible from behind you and it only makes you love on the babies more.

“How about we just have a cuddle party? We can wrap later,” you suggest.

“I love this plan,” Bucky hums. “But first…we need sustenance!”

He stands and then helps you up before walking into the kitchen. You hear the rustle of bags and the banging of cabinets as you prepare the couch with the pillows and blankets.

As soon as you’re seated Winter paws at the spot on the cushion where he usually lays. You give him a small lift to help him up and then watch as Alpine walks along the edge of the couch and jumps down to the pillow below.

Bucky comes back in with his arms full of goodies.

“Look at this cuddle party,” he muses as he sits next to you.

You snuggle into Bucky’s side and Winter snuggles closer to you. Even Alpine curls up close to Bucky, his warm head pressed against his metal arm.

With your snacks at the ready and Lord of the Rings on the screen you settle into the soft warmth and comfort of your little family.

@hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @goldylions

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky and alpine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #alpine barnes #winter barnes

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soggyriceee · 10 months

Text

strawberry | John Price

summary: price gets you to use your safe word

warnings: rough sex, choking, biting, spanking, overstimulation, public oral (male receiving), slapping(mentions of blood). just like really aggressive John until the end where we get soft core John, not edited bc of how much I wrote so, ignore and possible typos PLZ

Price was always pretty rough with you during sex. but never enough to make you cry like he did tonight. he was a whole new person, new man. and all it took was the teasing at dinner with his family to set him off.

it started off light. pulling your dress down in the car, showing off the top of your boobs. of course, you played dumb, apologizing and saying 'I didn't know'. at first he had fallen for it, saying he wouldn't mind if you kept it that way. but then, you got more bold and cocky. under the dinner table, your hand found its place on his pants, right where his dick rested so peacefully. his eyes that were once on the menu were now on your innocent ones. "is everything alright?" his mother asked. John smiled and nodded, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "yes she just looks so pretty tonight doesn't she? cant keep my eyes off her." he smiled, looking back down at you.

the rest of the dinner you got progressively more cocky. to the point his dick was now out, resting in your warm hand. his parents talked about John's passion for the military, how he'd been dedicated to it his whole life. all while your hand played with his tip, squeezing it ever so gently. his hand was quick to find your thigh, gripping it firmly. thankfully, the cloth was enough to cover his lower half and yours, but the thrill of it all was still very much there. when the waiter had came by, you smoothly let his girth go, using the table cloth to cover his hard on. you smirked at the tiny wet circle that appeared onto the cloth right where his tip was.

when his parents were deep into the menu, the waiter helping them with choosing what to eat, John leaned down to your ear and whispered, "keep this up I promise you'll regret it. don't test me lovie." he smiled down at you before turning back to his parents. you pressed your thighs together, smiling softly to yourself. this was exactly what you wanted from him.

his dick remained out for the rest of the dinner, your hand occasionally reaching down and giving it a firm grab, surprising him each time. by the time dinner was done, he had come close to finishing at least 3 times, always flicking your hand away. he was good at keeping his moans and groans suppressed (public sex was something you both had often), but when he'd cum that was a whole different situation.

"well it was lovely seeing you both tonight. we should do this more often." you smiled to his parents as John tried to put his throbbing dick back into his pants. "it was. thank you for inviting us out. hopefully next time we do meet you both will tell us your pregnant." his mom winked, standing from the table. you blushed and looked at John who's eyes were already staring at you. " who knows mom. you might get lucky real soon." he said, his eyes remaining on yours.

the car ride was silent. you were excited but also a bit nervous about what he had in store. of course, you had a feeling it would be nothing short of amazing. "I had fun with your parents." you said as he pulled to a red light. he shifted his whole body to you, tilting his head to the side. "really? seems you had too much fucking fun." he said, his deep voice suddenly turning into a threatening tone. you shifted in your seat, a proud smile still plastered across your face. "I did. you didnt?" you asked innocently, batting your eye lashes.

before he could respond the light turned green. he shifted back to his original position, driving off quickly. his driving got you both home within 10 minuets, and he was quick to get out the car, slamming the door behind him. he walked over to your side, opening the door and helping you out. it was dark outside, about 9:30 at night. the only light that lit the street was the porch lights on each house.

when he had helped you out fully, he quickly dragged you to the front of the car, shoving you down. you gasped at the pain of your knees and the cement, looking up at him. " John that fucking-" his hand came crashing across your face, gripping your chin so you'd look back up at him. "think I fucking care after that shit you pulled at dinner?" he growled, his grip on your chin growing firmer. you looked up at him, smiling innocently. " I was just having fun tho." you said softly, fingers playing with the ends of his pants.

he growled and let your face go, going to his pants buckle while keeping eye contact. "wanna play silly little games like that, okay. lets play." he gripped your hair at the top of your head, forcing your head back. you gasped at the sudden tug, biting your lip at the same time. "open." he said, gripping his dick with his other hand, jerking it off in front of you. "but captain were outside" you smirked, only teasing him more. "stop fucking playing with me. open your goddam mouth." he growled, tugging your hair. you whimpered at the pain, but ultimately opened your mouth. he wasted no time shoving his dick down your throat, your hands immediately going to his thighs to keep balance.

" s..shit. this what you wanted, hm? just needed my dick down your fucking throat." he growled, pulling his hips back before moving them back onto your face. you were unable to even say anything, but the way you nodded slowly as best you could, he smiled down at you. it was so thrilling, getting your face fucked outside in public. the way he looked down at you with such admiration, his dick repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, just to slide back out again.

he pulled your head back a bit more, your head resting on the front bumper of the car now. that same hand rested onto the car hood, his other on your shoulder. "g..gonna fuck that throat faster. bet you want that huh?" he groaned, his hips moving faster. his head fell back, grip on your shoulder tightening. to be honest, John had never gone this far with face fucking. he was pretty gentle when it came to head. sex, no, but when you gave him head it was never something that he forced upon you or was super rough with. he let you take your time, breaks whenever you needed. he was patient. but not tonight and it was definitely something you had to get used to.

your drool practically poured out your mouth, his dick slippery with your saliva. the mix of his pre cum and your saliva made it even easier for his throat to slide down your throat, and it was a feeling he wanted to keep on feeling. tears poured out your eyes the more rough he got with you, mascara running down your cheeks. and he loved it. "look do fucking gorgeous like this love. wanna fuck your face more." he moaned, watching his dick and a fuck ton of saliva come from your mouth as he pulled his dick out, sliding it back in to watch it all pool at the corners of your lips.

to be honest, it was a bit much. again, it was something neither of you had really experienced before. and as much as you tried to relax your throat, it was pretty hard because of how fast and rough he was getting. but when he whimpered out your name, head falling forward, mouth slightly agape, you couldnt give up. "gonna cum baby.. gonna cum down that tight fucking throat." he moaned, his had that was once on your shoulder cupping your cheek. you squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering around his dick. his body jerked forward, his body falling forward onto the hood of the car, his cum shooting down your throat.

he gasped, strained groans leaving him, his hips giving you small thrusts. "t-thats it baby.. fucking swallow.. all of it." he groaned, breathing heavily above you. you tried your best to swallow it all, only a bit seeping out of your lips. he slowly slid his dick out, strings of saliva, cum or even both connecting you both. shoving his soaked dick back in his pants, he looked down at you. your jaw hurt, lips too. you looked up at him, chest heaving up and down. "get the fuck up." he said, gripping your arm and pulling you up into his chest. he gdragged you to the front door, quickly opening the door and shoving you inside.

you had tripped, but ultimately kept your balance. his keys were thrown onto the mail table as he flicked the light on, making quick movements towards you. saliva was still smeared across your face, his cum too. but to say he cared would be a lie. his lips pressed firmly against yours, his tongue sliding in easily, his hand pressed to the back of your neck while his other gripped your ass. "couch. now" he said against your lips. you stumbled backwards, quickly making your way to the couch. despite your stumbling he walked towards you slowly, his head tilted to the side a small smirk plastered along his face. he loved the shy, kinda shocked version of you. he ate it up every time.

"wait." he said as you got to the couch. he walked in front of you, sitting down on the couch. he leaned back, man spreading before patting his lap. "lay." was all he said, eyes staring up at you. you hesitated but did as he asked, laying across his lap. he sighed, hand gripping your calf before moving his hand up your leg. "been so good for me so far. gonna keep being good?" he asked, gripping your thighs, your dress trailing up your body the farther his hand went. he loved your thighs. so much so he one night woke up and decided to fuck into them. pressed them together against your chest, ramming into them. it was hot how much he loved all the parts of your body you had always been insecure or less confident in. when his hands came to your ass, he smoothly slid your panties off and down your legs, tossing them beside him on the couch.

you nodded, throat still pretty sore to speak. but he wasn't going to have that. his hand came down on your ass harshly, your body jerking forward. but his actions after contradicted that, his hand rubbing on the red spot. " words princess. you know I dont like feeling ignored." he whispered, his other hand petting the top of your head soothingly. "y-yes" you croaked out, letting go of the breath you had no idea you were holding onto. " such a shame tho." he mumbled, his hand quickly coming back down harshly onto your ass. a pained whimper fell from you, your eyes squeezing shut, hands gripping the pillow right in front of your face. "you were acting like such a slut earlier. sluts get punished, dont they? especially my pretty little slut." he said, leaning down to your ear while his hand slapped another red spot onto your ass.

John had become a whole new person in the blink of an eye. first the face fucking, now the spanking. what was next? you weren't necessarily scared. but you were anxious. anxious about what he would do to you next. how far he'd take it. you were left in the dark. " teasing me in front of my parents. in public." slap. "bet you wanted me to cum under that table, didnt you?" another harsh slap. he watched how your ass jiggled after each hit, bitting his lip. he himself had no idea what came over him. at all. but he knew that he liked it. in fact, he loved it.

your ass was a bright red, stinging so badly the cold air didnt even help. in a way, it made it worse. tears once again didnt fail to brim your eyes, feeling more and more slaps hit your ass, the same spot each and every time. " P-price please" you cried out. but he was in a trance. he hated it, but deep down loved the way blood began to prickle up from the spot he was abusing. "so pretty.." he whispered, before leaning down, placing a small kiss onto the skin before gently biting the spot. you winced in pain, again digging your nails into the pillow.

he sighed, pulling you up by your waist, your knees digging into his thighs. "lay down baby.. gonna fuck that pretty little cunt." he whispered, holding your hips to help you lay down. once you were comfortable, back on the couch, he rose, pulling his pants off and down his body. his dick sprung out, pre cum leaking onto the floor in drops. you whimpered at the sight, your eyes shooting back up to his. " dont worry baby.. im gonna fuck you." he smirked, practically leaping over you. he leaned back down, lips meeting your slightly wet ones. your face, for the most part, was dry and crusty. but again, he didnt care. he'd been on the battle field with literal guts splattered everywhere. plus, it was his own cum on your face

his lips distracted you from his tip moving up your cunt, collecting all the slick you had. it was embarrassing, how much pain and embarrassment made you wet. you both had a wild side, but there were limits that you both hadn't yet reached, but tonight, he had decided it was time. and its not like you minded and your cunt was proof you didnt.

without warning, his dick pushed into you, a gasp coming from you that broke the kiss. his nose touched yours, his eyes looking down into your wide ones. " I know baby.. just relax. " he whispered, feeling you tighten around his dick. your hands found his shoulders, gripping them firmly as he bottomed out inside you. his forehead connected to yours, a deep sigh leaving him. he wasted little to no time in gripping your legs to wrap them around his waist, your bleeding ass cheek failing to not sting. he pulled out real slow before slamming back into you, going straight in for a faster pace.

your head pressed into the pillow, eyes squeezing shut. " fuck this cunt is so tight. so fucking... good." he groaned, his hands keeping his body up. he looked down, watching his dick slide in and out, the slick from your cunt forming strings. the sounds were sinful, the squelching of your wetness as his dick slammed into you. "j-john.. oh my god~" you whined, back arching up. he smirked down at you, one hand gripping your face. " keep those pretty eyes on me. wanna see your face while I fuck you senseless." he said, his voice deep and smooth like honey.

his tip was quick to hit your womb, the bulge in your stomach not going unnoticed. he moaned at the sight, biting his lip. " look at that. taking this dick so well. such a good slut for me, aren't you?" he cooed, watching it disappear and re appear over and over. you went cross eyes, mouth falling agape at how deep he was hitting into you. it was embarrassing, but you felt your first orgasm of the night hit you like a train. it was coming, and coming fast. he felt the way your cunt pulsed around him, and he chuckled, looking back up at you. "gonna cum already? better hold it. im not done with this little cunt." he said, his right hand going to your throat.

your gasped, hands gripping his wrists as his thrusts only got more and more rough. you couldnt hold back and he knew you couldnt. but he wanted that. he wanted you to cum, just so he could punish you for cumming. his eyes were saying it all, watching you with a small smirk on his lips, mocking you. the way he looked down at you, his thrusts hitting all the right spots in your cunt, you couldnt stop the knot in your stomach from coming loose. he smiled, looking down between you both to watch your cum pour out of you and coat his dick.

" tsk tsk.. being a bad girl again are we?" he chuckled, shaking his head. " I-i couldnt.. help it. im s..sorry" you whined, eyes pleading with his. but he didnt care. again, this is what he wanted. now he could punish you for it.

his hips didnt stop. in fact they sped up. he let go of your throat, that same hand finding your clit. " gonna cum again. and again. until I decide ive had enough of you. since that what you wanted to fucking bad, right?" he asked, watching his thumb play with your throbbing clit. you tried your hardest to pull away, but his other hand held your hips down. " stop fucking running. take what the fuck you deserve for being such a fucking cum slut." he growled, leaning farther over your body to hit deeper into your cunt.

your mouth fell agape once more, your hands digging into his shoulders. he moaned at the feeling, his head falling into your neck. his lips sucked onto your skin, leaving behind big, dark purple and red, bloody marks. his teeth sunk into your skin, feeling his orgasm approaching. " gonna cum in you. you want that, want me to fill you up with my cum? make you a mommy?" he moaned, his thumb still working on your clit. " y-yes.. fuck fill me with it John p..please" you moaned, hands finding the back of his head and running your fingers through his hair.

he moaned into your neck, giving you a few harsh thrust before small, cute little whimpers slipped past him. his cum shot deep into you, his teeth once again sinking into you. you cried out at the pain, the taste of blood dancing along his tongue. and when you though the was done, you felt his hips slamming back into you.

he leaned up off you, blood smeared on his bottom lip. his hair was a mess, bot from your fingers and his head moving against you as he laid into your neck. his hand gripped your calf, pulling it from his waist before holding it up in the air. " thought I was done with you? no baby.. gonna fuck this cunt till you cant even cum anymore." he said, watching you from below.

his thumb went right back to your clit, rubbing small circles that matched his pace. you were sure it was because you just had the strongest orgasm you've had in a bit, but you already felt tired and worn out. it could also be from all the blood Price had managed to draw from you. " c-cant take it." you cried, hands resting on his stomach in hopes to slow him down. but it only fueled him. seeing your poor attempts in stopping him, watching you run from him. " come on princess. take this dick like I know you can. making me so proud." he moaned, head falling back at the feeling of both your warmth and slick coating him.

the room sounded like pure filth, both you guys' moans, the sound of your slick, the skin slapping. it was hot, but also so much for you. it didnt take long for your second orgasm to follow your first one, this one more powerful than the last. " come on baby, cum for me. I know you want to." he smiled from above you, watching how his dick slid back into your cunt with ease and pull back out that much easier. your fingers gripped the ends of the couch cushions, your body jerking forward as another orgasm washed over your body. you chanted his name, legs shaking as you came down from it.

" p...please hold on." you cried out, feeling him continue to fuck into you. he shook his head, growling at you. " didnt I say im not stopping till this cunt cant cum anymore? now shut the fuck up and take it." he growled, his hand landing a slap across your face.

you had to admit, Price was beginning to scare you. it went from just being anxious to being a bit scared of him. he hadn't realized it tho, thinking the look on your expression was just from being so cock drunk. he loved it, watching your blood slide down your neck, pooling in your collar bone. his balls wet with your cum and slick. he felt too good to stop.

" gonna cum again. milking me so goddam good baby." he groaned, his head falling down. you though that this would be the end. that he'd be too tired to keep fucking you. and you were right, kinda.

he shot his last load into you, his body falling forward just a bit at the feeling. he chanted your name, telling you how good your pussy felt, how he wanted to stay in it forever. and when he slid out, you were shocked to immediately feel his fingers sliding in. your back arched, a cry slipping from you. " j-john please I cant" you cried, your legs arching. but he didnt stop. his fingers curled, hitting your g spot each time. his thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in small circles. " sounds so hot baby.. but I know you can. this is what happens to sluts. if you act like on im gonna treat you like one."

again, you began to spasm around his fingers, tears officially puling from your eyes as your stomach cramped up at yet another orgasm. to be honest, John hadn't realized how crazy he was going on you. he didnt know why you teasing him and jerking him off under the table was what set him off. maybe it was because he wanted to match your energy. but he had begun to take it to far when he again, slid his dick back inside your cunt. you were surprised he wasn't just as tired as you were or overstimulated. but he did just give himself a decent break.

" you look so fucked out baby.. are you tired?" he pouted, his hips moving slowly, giving you somewhat of a break. you nodded, wiping your watery eyes. finally, he was going to give you a break and maybe just stop all together. but no. all he did was lean back into your neck, leaving another hickey followed with a bite mark, ramming his hips back into yours. "John please" you cried, shaking your head, pressing your hands to his stomach and shoving him back.

his hand shoved yours off him, his other hand going to your neck. " I said take what I fucking give you, didnt I? stop fucking moving." at this point your pussy was sore, it hurt. you didnt even think you could cum anymore. and the grip on your throat was painful. tears fell from your eyes once you realized you had to use the now word he had promised neither of you would ever have to use. ever.

"s-strawberry.. please strawberry!" you sobbed, hands pressing onto his abdomen. at first he didnt think he heard you right. he slowed down, his face softening. "what?" he looked down at you, watching at the tears ran downpour face. he noticed, really noticed, the bite marks, the hickies covered with blood. he slid out immediately, sitting down and pulling your limp body onto his lap. " im so sorry.. im so so sorry." he whispered, pulling you into his arms.

but you couldnt stop crying. you didnt know if he was being genuine, if he found it hot. you were in the mindset that he was going to just flip you over and fuck you all over. but he didnt. he held you tight, whispering how sorry he was in your ear, how wrong he was for going so overboard. " i.. I broke a promise. and im so sorry my love. I should've listened to you." he said, pulling you off his chest. he wiped the tears from your eyes, his chest hurting as he looked at your red eyes. "please let me take care of you. for real." he said, taking your hand in his.

he stood, holding you in his arms and made his way to the bathroom. "im gonna set you on the toilet for a bit.." he said, sitting you gently. he started the bath before turning back to you, lifting your dress off you. when the bath was full, he helped you inside, watching you settle in. it was silent, kinda awkward. he didnt know what to say other than he was sorry. and he was. he'd never had to do this before, but he knew that he had to take care of you as best he could.

"look up for me princess." he said, cupping your chin softly. he grabbed the washcloth that hung on the rack, wetting it a bit before gently wiping your face. you eyes met his, giving you a small smile. " your so pretty." he mumbled, wiping your chin before dipping the washcloth back in the warm water. "thank you." you said softly, looking down. he continued to wipe your face before moving down to your neck. " this may hurt.. but I promise ill be as gentle as I can." he said before pressing the cloth to your neck.

you winced at the pain, squeezing your eyes shut. " im sorry my love.. just a bit more." he said softly, patting your skin softly. when it was done, he looked at the bloody cloth, sighing, shaking his head to himself. to say he was angry at himself or disappointed, that would be an understatement. he promised himself and you he'd never hurt you. " im so sorry my love.. I dont know what came over me." he said, head hanging low.

you reached over the tub and gripped his hand. " lets just watch movies and cuddle.. maybe even get some tea." you said, voice still hoarse from earlier. he didnt look at you at first, his eyes still stuck to the ground. but when you squeezed his hand again, he looked at you and nodded. " ill take care of you princess. dont you worry."

and he did. the rest of the night he was like your personal little maid. you needed to go pee? dont even think about using your legs, he'd carry you. you wanted the blanket? he'd tuck you in like a burrito. you got too hot? okay he'd take it off. he ordered your favorite food to the house since cooking was not his strong suit, ice cream on the side as well. he felt happy being able to take care of you like he told himself he would always do instead of hurting you.

when you were tired, you curled into his chest, snuggling into him. he looked down and smiled, his hand resting on top of your head. for the first time that night he had let himself cry. well not cry, but a few tears did drop. he was so grateful that you were as forgiving as you were. how even though he hurt you as bad as he did, you still felt safe in his arms, comfortable.

he kissed the top of your head, switched the tv off and laid back. " goodnight princess, I love you so much." he whispered before holding you in his arms, his grip on you never getting loose.

| this was pure fucking filth but like... I love this man so much I can help but right filthy filthy smut about him, also this was for @grqpegrqve |

#call of duty fan fiction #call of duty x reader #cod #cod x reader #captain price #captain price smut #John Price smut #John Price x you

1K notes · View notes

httplilyyy · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 || 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍

pairing: leah williamson x reader

request: ‘leah and reader are friends with benefits and after a night together leah asked reader if they’d go to her brothers wedding as a plus one’

summary: maybe being Leah’s plus one wasn’t too bad

warnings: smut straight off the bat, swearing, suggestive themes, fingering (r giving), oral (r giving) & fluff | minors dni

words: 3380

a/n: i've had this request in my inbox for a while now, so sorry about the wait. I hope i did it justice! Also, how is everybody? i hope you’re all well! i haven’t made a fic in a while, so again, sorry about that.

woso masterlist

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Leah moaned, head tilting back onto the pillow as one of her hands gripped onto the bed sheet, the other holding your wrist as you slid another finger into her.

“Like this?” You breathed, eyes focused on hers, desperately trying to make her feel good.

“Exactly like that.” Leah said, hips lifting along with your thrusts.

“You close?” You question, bringing your lips to her neck, sucking and biting at any skin you could reach.

“So close,” she mumbled at the shell of your ear before nibbling on it.

“Yeah? You gonna come?” You said, letting out a shaky breath at her actions.

“Mhm,” Leah hummed as you turned your face to kiss her. Her tongue gliding against your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

Her legs wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. Muffling a moan with your mouth, you could feel how her walls pulsed around your fingers, clenching as you curled them.

The way her legs were around your waist meant that your bodies were mere inches apart, your palm brushing against her clit every time you pumped your fingers into her. Thrusting your fingers into her at a quicker pace, Leah broke away from the kiss with a guttural moan.

You were knuckle deep inside her, pulling out the most sinful noises, going from breathy moans in each other's mouths to loud, lewd moans that the neighbours surely didn't appreciate.

Curling your fingers right at her g-spot, her hips bucked, trying to ride your fingers as you brutally pumped them in and out of her.

"Right there, please." You curled your fingers and brushed your hand against her clit at the right time making her tighten around you. Her teeth sunk into your shoulder, muffling the scream that left her lips, riding out her orgasm.

“Easy, easy.” You mumbled, kissing her softly on the lips as you pulled your fingers out.

Her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, eyes watching you, waiting for your next move. Kissing her once more, you made your way down her body. Placing hot open mouthed kisses everywhere you could, you felt how the muscle beneath tensed at your touch. Occasionally biting gently into her skin to leave small, faint marks.

Kissing at her inner thighs, your hand gripped her ass. You didn’t waste any time, licking up her still sensitive core and teasing your tongue at her entrance.

Leah moved one of her hands to grasp at the pillow behind her head, the other finding its way to your head, tugging at your hair at every action you made.

Her legs tightened around your head, ankles locking around your back to keep you in place as you thrusted your tongue into her. You move one of your hands to circle her clit and continue to move your tongue inside her.

“Shit, y/n.” Leah groaned out into the air, hips bucking into your face as she came again.

Kissing your way back up to Leah’s face, you propped yourself up with one hand, hovering over her. You watched the way her body reacted to the come down of her orgasm, her chest rose and fell with staggered breaths, her legs twitched, sweat dripped down her face and hair stuck to the base of her neck and forehead.

But in your opinion, she looked as beautiful as ever.

You’d never tell her that, of course. The two of you were only friends with benefits and you didn’t want to ruin what you had together. Even though you both were not together, no one else had her the way you did, and you were fine with that.

Looking down at the girl below you, her swollen lips formed into a smile, unable to stop the chuckle that escaped her causing you to furrow your eyebrows in question.

“What's so funny?” You wondered, manoeuvring to the side, falling back onto the bed beside Leah.

“Nothing,” Leah said, tilting her head towards you. “It’s just - never mind.”

“What's up?” You questioned, confused.

“My brother’s getting married.” Leah started.

“And you thought about that during sex?” You teased, trying to loosen the now tense atmosphere.

“Shush you.” Leah smiled, slapping you gently on the stomach. “I’m expected to have a plus one but I'm clearly very much single.”

“Okay, ouch.” You mumbled jokingly, placing a hand over your heart.

“What? I can’t exactly tell my mum that we’re in a situationship.” Leah huffed, looking up to the ceiling.

“Sure you can.” You said with a shrug.

“Oh yeah, because that’s a great conversation.” Leah said sarcastically. “Hey mum, me and y/n are fuck buddies!”

“Not like that, jesus!” You said, covering your head with your hands.

“Wait -”

“No,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“What? I haven’t said anything yet!” Leah protested, moving to sit on your lap.

“Mhm, ‘yet’ being the key word.” You replied, placing a hand behind your head whilst the other rested on her thigh.

“Hear me out.” Leah begged, placing her hands on your stomach. “Please?”

“Fine, what could you possibly want me to do?” You wondered, fingers tapping rhythmically on her skin.

“Can you be my plus one?” Leah asked, wincing as she awaited your reaction.

“Leah -” You sighed, contemplating a way to go about this.

“Please. It’ll be perfect.” Leah cut in, trying to defend her case. “We already know each other and my family knows you -”

“Yes, but -”

“All we have to do is act like a couple.” Leah said, shrugging. “What’s so bad about that?”

What's so bad about that? Oh nothing unless you count your huge crush on her. But like she said, what’s so bad about that?

“I don’t know.” You trailed off, looking up to the ceiling.

“C’mon y/n.” Leah said, her voice dropping an octave as she pressed her lips to your ear. She rolled her hips, the action making goosebumps rise like a wildfire all over your skin. “I need you.”

“Leah I -” you said, a chuckled breath escaping your lips.

“For me?” Leah asked again, her hands finding your shoulders as she rocked her hips back and forth against yours.

“Fine.” You mumbled, finally giving in. “but we need ground rules.”

“Really?” Leah huffed, stopping her movements. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“It’s so you don't fall in love with me.” You teased, flipping the two of you over so Leah was back underneath you.

“Deal, but let's figure out the details in the morning.” Leah said breathlessly, bringing your head down to connect her lips with yours.

“That’s fine by me.” You grinned, kissing her with a newfound hunger.

The neighbours definitely hated the two of you. But you both didn't care and it was now the late hours of the next morning.

You managed to venture to the kitchen where Leah was sitting on the countertop whilst you made some cheese toasties for brunch. After plating up the food, you both decided to talk about the rules of your new arrangement.

“So,” you started, taking a bite out of the toastie, “how's this going to go?”

“It was your idea for some ground rules.” Leah shrugged, crossing her legs on the counter.

“Okay, no over the top flirting.” You said, nodding your head, proud of your answer.

“Okay,” Leah chuckled, “and what does that entail?”

“No telling me to fuck you on the dance floor.” You said bluntly with a teasing smile.

“That’s the best you got?” Leah asked, tilting her head.

“I know we’re going to have to make it believable and all that -”

“And all that?” Leah replied, and even though she wasn't smirking it could be heard through her voice.

“Leave me alone.” You huffed, finishing off your toastie.

“I’m kidding.” Leah laughed at your child-like actions. “But yes, we will need to make it believable. Holding hands, flirting - kissing - the whole shebang.”

“You say ‘kissing’ like it's a scandal.” You said, putting your plate in the sink.

“Just no fucking on the dance floor.” Leah remarked, an eyebrow raised in a teasing manner.

“Just no fucking on the dance floor.” You parroted with a nod.

That was all easier said than done. You were sure you could survive a day of acting like a couple, right? What could possibly go wrong?

With all the plans set and arranged, you were ready to go to the wedding. The two of you had talked through all your backstory, when you met, how you got together and who asked who out.

What you weren't prepared for was the wedding to be this sunday. Which was in less than twenty-four hours. No amount of time could prepare you for this, even the reassurance from Leah.

But when you were standing outside the venue, hand in hand with Leah, heart pounding out of your chest, your nerves seemed to dissipate.

The wedding was lovely, but that's not what you were worried about. It was the aftermath, the conversing with family. You spoke to a few of them before but only for a few fleeting moments.

Now, however, you’d have to speak to them all.

Psyching yourself up for what was about to happen, you looked to your side, smiling when you saw Leah already staring at you. With a gentle squeeze of her hand, the two of you walked inside.

Immediately, Leah’s family rushed to greet you both, eager to know all about your relationship. The two of you are quick to converse with everyone, happily answering all the questions being thrown at you.

You managed to sit down at a table, you and Leah only having a small moment to yourselves until more family members came over.

“Leah, it’s been ages!” somebody said, embracing Leah with a warm hug, “and who’s this..?”

“Y/n.” You greeted with a smile.

“My girlfriend.” Leah added, looking back to you.

“Girlfriend, well I never.” they teased, poking Leah’s side. “How rude of me, I'm Leah's cousin, Holly.”

“Oh, lovely to meet you.” You said, not really knowing what to do.

“So, how did you two meet?” Holly asked, bringing up a chair to sit with you and Leah.

“On the pitch actually.” Leah said, placing a hand over yours.

“Ooh, enemies to lovers type of trope.” Holly joked, leaning in further to find out more.

“You could call it that.” You mumbled, shifting in your chair.

“How so?” Leah questioned, turning to the side.

“You did slide tackle me, after I had passed the ball.” You said with a slight shrug.

“Oh please, you still had the ball.” Leah scoffed, shaking her head.

“Leah, I quite literally rolled into a camera man at the sheer force of that tackle.” You said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I barely touched you.” Leah said, crossing her arms.

“I went flying!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in the air.

“Young love.” Holly chuckled, taking a sip from her drink.

“Anyway,” leah said, brushing over the conversation, “I went to speak to y/n after the match and she said -”

“Give me your number as an apology for the tackle.” You said, a proud smirk on your face.

“Not even a hello?” Holly asked, a teasing tone laced in her voice.

“I think it was a fair deal, a date as an apology.” You defended good-heartedly.

“And did you go on that date?” Holly wondered, looking at Leah.

“Yeah, and I’ll give it to y/n, it must’ve been the best date I've ever been on.” Leah said, turning to you at the last part of her sentence.

“Go on many dates then, do you?” Holly said, looking at Leah knowingly.

“Oh shut up.” Leah muttered, pushing Holly away gently.

“That’s how you met, but how did you get together?”

“After our little impromptu date, we started to hang out more and more.” Leah said, a small smile forming on her face at the memories popping to mind.

“And after she convinced me to transfer to Arsenal, my feelings for Leah seemed to grow.” You said, adding to the story.

“We spent the majority of our time together, on and off the pitch.” Leah said, intertwining your hands. “And I just found myself falling for her. I mean, how could I not?”

“Who asked who out?” Holly asked, intrigued by the story.

“I asked Leah.” You said. “I was a total wreck -”

“But it was cute.” Leah said, smiling softly.

“And where did you two go?” Holly questioned.

“An arsenal match.” You chuckled.

“Of course.”

The three of you laughed together, and, for a moment, it felt like you were actually a part of Leah’s family.

“What are you three laughing about over here?” Jacob, Leah’s brother, asked, walking over to the table. “Nothing inappropriate, I hope.”

“All the inappropriate things you could think of.” Leah remarked, pulling you closer to her.

“Okay, okay, spare me the details.” Jacob said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“How’s life now as a married man?” Holly wondered, as Jacob sat beside her.

“Better than ever.” Jacob smiled before turning to you and Leah. “How's life coupled up, Leah?”

“Better than ever.” Leah parroted, as you gently traced your fingers over her knuckles.

“Am I going to have to give the brotherly talk?” Jacob asked, looking at you with a playful glare.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” You said, looking at Leah with nothing but love.

“Good, now how about a dance?” Jacob said, pulling Holly out of her chair, her doing the same to Leah.

“You coming, y/n?” Leah wondered, holding her hand out for you to take but you gently shook your head.

“In a bit,” you said with a tight lipped smile, “my shoes are killing me.” you added with a laugh, trying to make it believable.

“Okay, I'll be back for you in a sec.” Leah said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before making her way to the dance floor.

You watched on as Leah danced around with her family, still nursing your drink from earlier, you gave one last look at Leah before grabbing a jacket and making your way outside.

The cold air brought a chill to your skin but it was much welcomed. The stiflingly hot room was starting to give you a headache and on top of that, your mind just couldn't deal with the fact that Leah wasn’t actually yours.

“So you're the one who’s stolen my daughter's heart.” a voice said from behind you.

“Oh! Mrs Will -” You said, turning around startled.

“Amanda is fine dearie, Mrs Williamson makes me feel so old.” she said, waving a dismissive hand with a smile.

“Amanda, I -“

“Aren’t actually in a relationship with Leah?” she asked with a knowing look.

“How -“

“I’m a mother, darling, I know everything.”

“Then you must know how much I truly do love your daughter.” You said without missing a beat.

“Oh, yes. Very much so. I saw it as soon as I saw you.”

“So then you must also know that she doesn’t like me back.” You said, looking down to the floor, your heart clenching at what you just said.

“Quite the opposite.” Amanda said, a smile displayed on her face.

“Leah could never. She is -“

“- her own woman. She can do what she likes. but I'm her mother and a mother’s instinct is never wrong.”

“I don’t know how to tell her.” You said, voice breaking. “I’m afraid that if I do, she’d run away and never look back.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t ask.” Amanda said, squeezing your hand gently. “I better get back inside, who knows what my son is doing.”

“Okay.” You chuckled, watching as she walked back inside.

You stayed outside for a little while longer, your chest feeling heavy after the conversation with Leah’s mum. Your mind kept going back to what she said, was it true?

If so, you didn’t know how you’d even begin the conversation. This wasn't a football match where you could go into it, head first and confident. This was Leah.

Due to the fact that it was Leah it made your heart beat ten times faster, your breathing increased tenfold and your hands shook like they had never before.

The effect Leah had on you was something out of this world. It was like a superpower she had no idea about. Yet, you’d let her consume you, all of you, if it gave you one chance to be with her.

But with all the things you’d do for Leah, you weren’t sure she’d do the same for you. Maybe she would, but that’s what friends are for, it wouldn't be because she was in love with you.

Even with Amanda’s comforting words, how could you be so sure that she loved you back?

With all these thoughts running around your head, you went unaware of Leah looking all over for you inside. The defender scoured high and low until her mum told her you were outside.

Rushing to the coat rack, she pulled a random coat over her shoulders before making her way outside, searching for you.

“Y/n?” Leah questioned from behind you, unsure if it was you.

“Sorry, I needed some fresh air.” You said, still staring ahead.

“That’s okay, I just wondered where you were.” Leah said, looking around.

“You can go back in, it won't be too long.” You said, finishing off your drink.

“I want that dance.” Leah said, ready to go back inside until she stopped and said, “Thank you, y’know, for today.”

"Of course, what are friends for?" You said, finally turning around.

“Friends.” Leah murmured, looking down to the floor then back up at you. “That’s the thing I -”

“You what, Leah? Tell me, please.” You muttered, looking deep into her eyes.

“I -” she stepped forward, your bodies closer than necessary. "Fuck it," she mumbled before her hands reached for your face, pulling you in for a bruising kiss.

Unable to control yourself, you pin her against the wall, trapping her between your body as you press into her. Her hands travelled across your back, clutching desperately at your jacket as your mouth moved against hers.

Pulling away reluctantly, her breath gently fans across your face as you both pant a little. Your eyes get lost in hers as she smiles up at you, your gaze eventually drifting across her features, still stunned by her beauty.

Your gaze settles on her lips, watching how she subtly wets her lower lip before her teeth gently bite down on it.

“You don’t know how long I've wanted to kiss you.” You mumbled quietly, the sound of your heart pounding filled your ears.

“We’ve kissed before, you know that, right?” Leah murmured playfully, her fingers fisting the fabric of your jacket.

“Yeah, but not like that.” You said, your voice barely audible.

“Well why don’t we do it again?” Leah said, pulling you down into her body, claiming your lips in the way you both longed for.

You kissed her with a new sense of urgency, your lips moving together in a way like never before. The thought of her body pressed against yours, her mouth pressed against yours, and arms pulling you impossibly closer, it was all too much. You were utterly mesmerised by her.

Everything just felt right, like something meant to be, so much so that it made you sigh gently into her mouth, pulling back with nothing but love evident in your eyes as she matched your tender gaze, just as obsessed with you as you were her.

“Correct me if I'm wrong.” You whispered against Leah’s lips. “But are we no longer fuck buddies?”

“We are no longer fuck buddies.” Leah chuckled softly.

“And that makes us..?”

“Together.” Leah said, taking your lip between her teeth before releasing it

“Yeah?” You said quietly, a smile threatening to appear.

“It’s you. It's always been you.” Leah said, her fingers threading themselves in your hair.

“Maybe being your plus one wasn’t such a bad thing.” You teased, brushing your nose against hers.

“It definitely wasn’t.”

“C’mon, I want to go fuck you on the dance floor.” You said, placing one last kiss to her lips before going back inside.

#leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson imagines #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader

913 notes · View notes

guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

Dust To Dust

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, talks of alcohol/substance abuse, undefined relationship, sleepy sex, dirty talk!joel, unprotected piv, rough sex, possessive!joel, soft ending)

word count: 2k

joel masterlist | joel playlist | song inspo

You weren’t sure how it started, this…thing with Joel. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was weight of loneliness threatening to crush your bones, or maybe it was nothing at all—nothing besides a mutually felt need for one another that could no longer be kept at bay.

Each night after a long and brutal day in the QZ, you’d sneak into Joel Miller’s apartment, his spare key around your neck the closest you’d likely ever come to being claimed publicly as his.

Joel was always out cold when you arrived, the half-gone whiskey bottle on his bedside the most obvious substance to blame for his sedation, but you knew it went much deeper than that. He tried to hide it from you—the pills he had to take just to get a half-decent night of sleep—but his secrecy was no match for your hyper-observant nature. It wasn’t as though you even cared about the hydro and the oxy—everyone left in this brutal world had to find a way to sleep—but you knew Joel well enough to know that he didn’t want you to see just how deep the crevasse went, so you feigned cluelessness to protect his pride.

You didn’t bother to undress, and neither did Joel apparently, finding him snoring on his back fully dressed, his boots still on. You ran your hand up his stomach and chest as you stood at the side of the bed, stirring him enough to get him to roll over onto his side. Joel’s eyes batted open before squeezing shut again as he rolled over, your body quick to slip in behind him and tug the blankets over the both of you. You ran your hand up and down his ribs and stomach, lulling him back to sleep while also relaxing yourself. Joel’s hand rested on top of yours before sliding it up his chest until he was kissing your knuckles.

“Go back to sleep,” you mumbled against his shoulder blade your face nuzzled against it. Joel grunted in disobedience before rolling over to face you, his hand guiding your leg to rest over his hip. “I’m too tired to do anything athletic tonight,” you exhaled against his lips as he peppered barely there nips against yours. “You’ll have to do all the work.”

“Don’t I always?” he teased, the slur of his voice an indication that he was still drunk.

“Too sleepy to go back and forth,” you smiled against his lips.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his hands reaching down to his belt and fly, undoing them and tugging himself out. You shimmied your jeans halfway down your thighs before giving up, your ass flush against Joel’s hard on as he tugged you back against his chest, his cheek nuzzling against yours as you laid on your sides. “You wet?”

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself?” You grabbed his hand as it rested on your hip and slipped it between your thighs, a soft puff of air leaving his lips as his fingers were coated in your slick. “That wet enough for you, Texas?”

“It’s perfect,” he whimpered in desperation, not a trace of teasing in his voice. You felt drunk on his lust, pulsing for him long before he even touched you. When his finger began to circle your clit, you graced him with a moan, his lips pressing against the side of your face as he bucked his stiffened cock against your ass. “Tell me you need it, baby. Tell me how much you need me.”

“Fuck, Joel, I need you so much I could cry,” you begged, exhaustion and arousal turning you stupid. Joel groaned into your ear and nodded, pleased by the sound of your desperation. “Please baby, please. Put it inside me.”

“You gonna take me however I want tonight?” he husked as his hand left your pussy to wrap around his cock, his fist pumping it as he awaited your response.

“Yes,” you nodded, your walls twitching in anticipation.

“I wanna hear you,” he commanded as he lined his cock up with your entrance, dipping just the tip in before pulling out and sliding up to your clit to gather more slickness on his shaft. “I wanna hear every damn thing, alright?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, reaching back to lace your fingers in his hair. “I need your cock, baby. Please—“

“Here you go baby,” Joel hushed you as he slid his cock into your pussy slowly, inch by inch, taking your breath away as he pressed in as deep as he could go and held you there with his hand on your hip. “That what you wanted? To feel me like this?”

“Fuck, move,” you ordered but his tutted in your ear, his head shaking.

“How I want it, remember?” His voice whispering into your ear sent chills down your spine, your skin covered with goosebumps. Joel seemed to find it amusing how easily he could affect you, his hand smoothing along your skin to relish in the hairs he made stand up. “You like when I talk to you, darlin? Like my voice?”

Joel withdrew his cock almost completely before pressing back inside, a pathetic loan slipping from your lips as the blunt head of his cock glided along your favorite spot.

“Pussy’s already squeezin’ me,” he grunted into your ear as he continued this painfully slow in and out, your arousal flooding around his cock as he teased you to the brink of madness. “I could stay buried in your pussy for a lifetime, baby.”

“Joel, fuck,” you whined and reached back to hold his hip, wanting him closer but he was already flush against you.

“You’re doin’ so good,” he praised in a husky growl, his cock grinding as he kept it seated inside you. “Lettin’ me work you up…don’t worry, baby, I’ll give it to ya how you need it soon.”

You felt as drunk and high as he probably still was, your entire body alight at the mere scoot of his cock against your walls. This was what made him the most dangerous man in Boston in your eyes, not the violence he was capable of or the icy chill of his heart, it wasn’t his job or his bad habits, it was his ability to unravel you with as little as his skin touching yours, his voice in your ear, his eyes locked with yours as though you meant something.

“So soft,” he praised as his hand slid up the inside of your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip to spread you open a bit more, granting him access to your weeping cunt. Joel moaned into the side of your neck as he buried his face there, two of his deft fingers circling your bud that was already swollen and pulsing before he ever even made contact. “So warm.”

“Fuck, that f-eels,” you shivered, his cock surprising you with a full thrust against your g-spot, your vision going blurry at the pleasure that trickled down your thighs to your toes. “Joel, Christ.”

“Gonna get you to cum for me like this,” he detailed between kisses to your neck, his breath going ragged as your pornographic moans filled his apartment. “Then I’m gonna fuck you into the mattress until you’re drippin’ with me.”

“Fuck,” you whined against and clawed at the skin of his lower back where you continued to hold onto him. Joel moaned at the sharp sting and bit down on your shoulder, the pain blurring into pleasure with every punch of his cock up into your pussy. “Joel, I’m so fucking close, please don’t stop, I’m so fucking—“

“God, you sound so pretty,” he grunted as his hips began to snap into yours, your knee now hooked on his arm as he spread you apart on your side. You looked down with groggy and arousal drunk eyes to watch as his fingers worked over your clit, your brows narrowing with ever perfect strum of your pussy. “Jesus, gettin’ so tight I can hardly move.”

“Joel, I’m fucking coming—oh my god!” You we’re a whining, moaning, convulsing mess against him as he fucked you through your orgasm as slowly as he could, drawing out the death-like pleasure that coursed through your veins and nearly took you out of consciousness.

“Yes. Fuck. That’s my girl,” Joel panted in your ear as he rolled you onto your stomach, his hands lifting your hips until you were face down and ass up on the mattress. Joel’s clock shoved its way back into your pussy and you choked on the way he felt inside you, your fingers clawing at his sheets for purchase as he drilled into you without regard for your oversensitivity. “All mine, ain’t ya?”

“Joel,” you whined, unwilling to answer him given the murky nature of your situation.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he bent over your back, gripping your hair in his fist and turning your head to the side so he could speak directly in your ear. His hips never ceased in their ruthless clap! clap! clap! against the flesh of your ass, his cock rendering you speechless even if you wanted to obey him. “Come on, tell me this pussy belongs to me.”

“It’s yours,” you mewled, inching towards a more brutal climax. “My pussy belongs to you, Joel.”

“Good,” he growled and you could hear the smirk on his face. “Now tell me you’re mine.”

“But I’m not,” you shook your head and cracked your eye open to look at him over your shoulder, Joel’s face scrunched in offense as he stared back at you. “Am I?”

Joel nearly snarled as he somehow fucked you harder, your body sliding up the mattress from the force of his thrusts as he lowered his teeth to your earlobe, biting on it just enough to sting in the best way.

“Course you are,” he spoke. “You’re mine…and I’m yours.”

“You are?” You wanted to cry, not just from the way his cock was devastating you one thrust at a time, but from the admission.

Joel Miller was yours. That alone made living in this world worth it.

“I swear it,” he kissed your cheek and let out a shivered moan. “God damn. I want you to cum on my cock, baby. Make me yours and I’ll fill this pussy up and make you mine.”

“Jesus,” you sobbed into the sheets as your climax hit you like a freight train, your body going limp beneath his but he was quick to adjust his position with you, using your pussy like a toy until he was mewling your name like a prayer.

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, burying his face in the dio between your shoulder blades. “Gonna cum inside this sweet pussy.”

“Please,” you urged, reaching back to hold his ass as he fucked into you slow and deep. Joel moaned without inhibition as he spilled inside of you, his fingers leaving marks on your hips as he held you still.

“So fuckin’ good,” he praised in breathless pants, his cock scooting in and out of your now soaked cunt. “God damn.”

Joel pressed his lips against your skin before rolling over onto his back to catch his breath, your body lazily following him so that you could rest on his chest.

“I meant all that,” he spoke up after a few minutes of peaceful silence, half-expecting you to be out like a light.

“So did I,” you mumbled, your palm flat on his button-down covered chest.

“Bout damn time we finally said it,” he chuckled just enough to shake you as you laid on him.

“I was just waiting on you, Miller.” You lifted your head and rested your chin on his chest, reaching up to tickle his chin. Joel caught your hand in his and lifted it to his lips, kissing the pads of your fingers.

“Sorry to keep you waitin’ so long, baby.”

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tripleyeeet · 8 months

Text

WHERE'S YOUR PATIENCE? (7)

SUMMARY: You and Astarion finally have the conversation. Among other things.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,912

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, teasing, little bit of hand stuff, vaginal sex, CONSENT IS SEXY, mentions of past sexual/physical trauma, potential spoilers for acts 1/2.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Say thank you to the 2 bottles of Corona and the tequila shot I took to loosen up my brain enough to write this smut. I couldn't have done it without them. (And also my bardic inspiration @imgoingtofreakoutnow)

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

The weeks following feel like an uphill battle —a never-ending course of constant information and action all tied into one long work month. Without warning, you find yourself overwhelmingly annoyed with the pace of it all. Not to mention the unwavering guilt, knowing that if you’re not fighting hordes of Absolute cultists or doing research on how to rip the Illithid out of your head, your time is essentially wasted.

Or at least, that’s what it feels like.

Considering the severity of everything, even when you’re resting from a long day's work, you always find your mind wandering. Picking apart texts from old books you’ve found during infiltration missions. Oftentimes late at night when Astarion’s come back from feeding, you spend a lot of your time together relaying said thoughts. Using the late-night silence to fuel the drive that’s been missing throughout the day.

By the time you get to the Inn within the Shadowlands, you’re surprised he’s not sick of you for it. Nowadays, just the mere thought of your own voice makes you want to rip off your ears, and although you know it’s crucial that you discuss things like this, you know there are other things that are important too.

Like your shared confession. And your promise to talk of the past when you were both ready.

Since that night you haven’t asked him about it. With everything happening so quick, it’s been pushed to the back of your mind —lost amongst the clutter of thoughts that you’re often forced to leave behind. Deep down, you imagine he’s somewhat in the same boat but still, there’s even more guilt that surfaces. Filling both sides of the spectrum like an overflowing glass of water —so much so that by the time you’re gifted a proper night’s rest in an actual bed you’re already too tired to care.

As soon as you enter the Inn after your journey through the cursed shadows of the forest you head straight to the bar, barely batting an eye at the barkeep who looks you up and down, horrified by the state of your dress.

“Whiskey, please.”

“And… whatever else you got back there that doesn’t taste of fermentation.”

You turn to see Astarion already standing beside you, moving his hand to the small of your back to usher you into one of the stools. Immediately, you oblige with a sigh, blinking back sleep as you rest your bloodied elbows on the countertop, earning yourself a look of annoyance that Astarion squashes with an unfriendly scowl, showcasing his canine teeth.

If you weren’t so exhausted you probably would’ve laughed at such a sight, but considering you are, you instead let out a soft hum and down your whiskey when it’s placed in front of you, signalling for another.

“I see you’ve already decided how you’re going to spend your night off.”

Nodding your head, you barely register his words, slumping your damp forehead down against the counter with a groan. “How the fuck are we even alive?”

It’s a fair question when you take into account all that you’ve been through. All the puzzles and battles and endless expectations to now save all of Baldur’s Gate just to get these damned Illithids out of your head.

At this rate, you and everyone else should’ve been dead ages ago. Either murdered and looted for your tadpoles and their powers or already turned into tentacle-faced beasts. Not sitting next to Astarion, covered in blood, sweat and tears, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to keep going. How you’re meant to keep this unrealistic momentum of burnout over and over and—

He runs his palm along the base of your spine, drawing his fingers up and down as he takes a sip of his drink. “Hells if I know, darling.”

Feeling a bit delirious, you laugh and raise your head to look between him and the new drink in front of you. “We should’ve been dead by now.”

“You? Perhaps. Me?” He pauses to dig his digits into your aching neck, making your head fall forward again in delight. “Well, I have far too much to do after all of this is over.”

“Yeah, like what?”

When he doesn’t answer right away you remember the conversation. That moment by the fire where you kissed and confessed and told each other you’d talk about it. Immediately it fills you with anxiety, clouding your features with a worried brow and frowning lips as you crane your neck to the side.

When you look at him you notice he’s not really there. His eyes sit in their normal position, staring back but there’s nothing. Not a thought or feeling; just two empty voids surrounded by bloodied dissociation.

It pulls at your heartstrings far too much —makes you let out a breath and raise your frame to slip off the stool and move to hug him. Despite the lack of attention, he manages to follow suit as it happens, wrapping his arms around your neck as you burrow into his chest, once again sighing, wondering if you should apologize and offer your ear or merely forget the exchange entirely.

Before you can even think to do either he’s standing up, keeping his hold as he grabs your other whiskey and proceeds to drink it down, barely batting an eye.

Raising your brow at him, you feel his fingers dig into your neck again, rubbing rough circles that have you resting your forehead against his chest, trying to form any semblance of a thought.

It makes him laugh and raise his hand to your hair, running his fingers through the roots. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

You’re already off and climbing the stairs before you’re able to answer. Pushing through the pain that radiates through your calves with every step. Leaning against him with tired eyes that eventually open up when the door creaks open in front you of.

Somehow you managed to earn yourself a private room. One that’s actually clean with a real bed and a tub —all of which almost have you in tears.

“Nice of them to give us some privacy, hm?” Astarion smirks down at you as he speaks, watching as you roll your eyes and finally pull yourself away, reaching for the clasps of your leather vest. Like the rest of you, it’s coated in a thick layer of dirt and blood. All of it dried and coming off in disgusting clumps that have you scrunching up your face. Brushing off the top few clasps, you try not to focus on the way it feels against your fingers. How it collects under your nails as you narrow your eyes, struggling to get the damned thing off.

It makes him scoff and pull you back in, pushing your hands aside to undo the first clasp. “I feel as though I recall a time where you claimed to be patient?”

As he moves down to the next one you shake your head and look away. “Emotionally, yes. Physically I—“

“I’d say you’re far more patient in that regard, actually.”

For a second you’re not sure what he means but then it hits you. He means sex. Physical intimacy. A line of which you hadn’t yet crossed due to several things. The main being your lack of conversation —your lack of focus to a promise you both said you wouldn't break.

Obviously, the lack of time hasn’t helped either, but as you stand there, watching his fingers pull apart your top layer, you find yourself visibly frustrated. Angry at yourself for not taking the time to offer the piece of yourself you desperately want.

After that night it was always your intention to go first. To tell him all about your past in order to open the floodgates. You figured if you were brave enough to do it —to be the one to bite the bullet— maybe he’d inevitably follow.

But then life got in the way and now nearly five weeks later it suddenly feels like you’re stuck in this limbo. One where you’re dancing on the edge, teetering with bated breath. Wondering if maybe the time is right.

As his hands move further and further you find yourself fighting your imagination. Brushing off the feelings that start to surface as you stare down at his hands, watching their delicate ministrations.

It’s apparent then that he's no stranger to the art of undress. As his fingers twist and turn to work the clasps apart, you have to stop yourself from giving in to temptation, knowing that it’s wrong. Remembering the promise you made.

Moving your hand to stop him, you clear your throat and watch his eyes. Noticing the way they filter through the air to eventually focus on you, blinking as if he wasn’t there to begin with.

“Can we talk now? Maybe?”

His hands sit against your leathers, gripping the metal with tightened fingers that still somehow manage to pale from their hold despite his complexion. “Course.”

Running your fingers along his knuckles, you slowly wrap your fists around them, bringing them up toward your mouth to place soft kisses despite the mess of battle that lingers. Then you drag him further into the room, placing him on the edge of the bed.

“Do you know who Beshaba is?” you ask, plain and simple, unsure how else to start the conversation of your past as you sit beside him.

“The deity?”

You nod, slowly, letting your gaze anxiously fall to your lap. “I grew up in one of her churches after my parents died. Learned everything I know about the world from a priestess named Hessa.”

As you try your best to further collect your thoughts, Astarion leans in, narrowing his eyes at the way your hands start to shake against your thigh.

“Is she the one in your dream?” he asks.

Without hesitation, you nod. “They thrive on infliction,” you explain after, watching him frown. Taking in the way his demeanour changes without warning to become something you’re not quite sure you've seen before. “Their doctrine revolves around fear. If you don’t participate you’re expected to endure only pain and misfortune.”

You remember growing up underneath all these women, listening to their cautionary tales of Beshaba’s terror. It instilled fear in you from the get-go —taught you that the only way to endure the horrors of this life was to devote yourself to her. To offer everything you could in exchange for peace, so you did. Unwaveringly so.

“As a child, I grew up listening to these women scare everyone for the sake of their goddess.” You pause to swallow, feeling the memories of Hessa’s knife each time you later disobeyed, slice across your skin. “Then, as an adult, I followed the cycle.”

“Willingly?”

You shrug your shoulders. “At first.”

You remember as soon as you were old enough you were sent out to recruit. To trick the minds of all the simple folk, weaving fabricated tales of disasters that were carried out by Beshaba’s hand. It was difficult to do. Seeing all those ruined minds come crawling to you for salvation —begging for forgiveness in the form of eternal loyalty.

Thankfully though, it grew old pretty quickly. The formula of travelling Faerûn, following the endless calamity and blaming it on the lack of faith was enough to pull you out of the fog. As each day passed, it became increasingly hard to pretend your faith was still intact, so you formulated a plan.

“When we arrived in Baldur’s Gate I tried to leave. In the middle of the night I abandoned my sisters —tried to run and never look back but…”

There’s a moment where your mouth just closes, trailing from the memories of your story; straying solely to the image of Hessa. To her hands and face each time she broke you apart and put you back together.

Without even trying you can feel her next to you, whispering her teachings in your ear —touching your scars with calloused hands. Her voice still has that icy hold on you even when you’re far away, keeping you still as she forces you down to kneel on the stone floor and await your punishment.

A punishment you’ll always feel you deserve. Even now that you’ve well and truly denounced the faith. Deep down you still feel the guilt of your exit. The pain of having to carry the trauma of an existence you never had the choice of living. To this day, it still eats away through the scars that line your stomach. Boring lines of betrayal across your skin.

The last thing you want to do is cry, but as the reminder of such abuse continues to penetrate your mind you find the tears falling anyway. Collecting at the edges of your eyes so quickly that you’re forced to close them in order to reset your vision.

As you do you feel Astarion wrapping himself completely around you. Pulling you into his chest with heavy hands that feel nothing like hers. Reminding you that you’re safe. That you’re here with him and nobody else.

“Is this wretched woman still stationed in Baldur’s?”

You feel his fingers on your chin, pulling your face up so that he can see you when you nod, holding back tears.

“Good. Then our destinations align.”

His voice sounds different. Instead of the usual softness or flirtation, it’s spoken through clenched teeth that strain against his throat, somehow feeling almost like a threat. An unspoken but well-articulated phrase of warning that has you sniffing and wiping your eyes. “What do you mean?”

At first, you figure he’s talking about the Illithid. The urgent need to get to Baldur’s Gate before time runs out. But then you’re ripped back to reality —to the moments where he’s briefly mentioned his desire to return home. To finish whatever business he has after this timely journey is over.

“The person who sent the hunter—“

He practically spits out his name. Cazador Szarr. A man you’re unfortunately well aware of given his reputation.

After arriving in Baldur’s Gate it was common knowledge to avoid him and his property. As awful as your church was about promoting the misfortunes of others, they made it very clear not to get involved. According to them, he was an unholy man —one that could never fully be understood due to the obvious seclusion of his person.

To this day, you've always wondered what lies behind those doors of his. What sinister things he was up to throughout the years.

However, when you look at Astarion —when you see the way his rage suddenly seems to know no bounds, you know it’s bad. Worse than bad considering Astarion hardly ever gets angry. Sure, annoyance and frustration often come out but anger —real anger— never does.

“When you told me that you wished I didn’t know what it felt like, I didn’t realize how similar our experiences were.” His fingers rub rough circles into your flesh, distracting his mind as he lets out a breath and continues. “I didn’t know the level of your pain.”

“I didn’t tell you.”

“I know.”

His voice cracks. Your heart breaks. Then, both of you sit in another wave of silence, letting the words previously spoken sit at your feet as you stare at one another, trying to gauge what happens next.

You don’t anticipate his hands moving to his armour. Nor do you retain any sense of restraint when you reach to follow them, both of you working to pry it off before he pulls his tunic over his head.

Despite being on the road together for so long you’ve never seen him bare like this. So open and willing to prove to you that he's here. With you, here’s here and ready to share whatever you think you need.

Embarrassingly, it makes you want to cry all over again, reaching for his face. Feeling that familiar coolness beneath your touch as he turns to rest both hands on your hips again.

“It’s been so long since I’ve willingly wanted this.”

“This?” You look at him confused.

“To be intimate.” His fingers tighten around your flesh, digging into the plush ever so slightly. “To share the act of sex with another rather than exploit it.”

There’s a small smile that creeps through then. An inkling of hope for the vampire’s happiness as you inch in closer, placing the softest kiss you can muster to his cheek. “But you’re nervous?”

“Terribly,” he admits with a heavy breath. “In the span of 200 years I’ve bed countless men and women —all of them willing. All of them happy to have enjoyed my body only to end up at death’s door.”

It’s a lot to take in —the admittance of his faults. As soon as the first detail is uttered it’s as if the floodgates open and he’s telling you everything. From the moment he was turned and forced to crawl from his grave to the years that followed luring person after person into the Szarr home for a master so cruel you immediately wish to kill him.

“I spent so long under that bastard’s thumb that… I don’t even know who I am anymore. How I’m meant to be now that I’ve attained even the slightest bit of freedom.”

You understand how he feels. Perhaps the levels are different but deep within there’s always been this nagging feeling of how you’re supposed to live your life. How you feel as though you should be travelling the world in search of a new purpose rather than once again fulfilling someone else’s.

But then you remember what’s at stake. And how even someone else’s fate can affect your livelihood. Then it’s as if the cycle repeats itself, constantly reminding you that if you don’t participate then that’s the end. Your freedom is null just as Astarion’s, leaving you to wonder what’s the point of it all.

“I think people like you and I are just meant to live.” Your hands move up to touch his hair. Carefully, you grip his curls between your fingers, pressing the pads into his skull as you run them down, hearing him sigh. “To enjoy what little time we have.”

“Little?” He raises his brow with a smirk. “Darling, I’m immortal.”

“True but you could still become a Mind-flayer like the rest of us.”

“Fair point.”

He seems calmer now. The usual persona of his overbearing personality coming through, making you grin.

Instead of tightly wound he’s relaxed under your hold, practically melting against your touch as he lowers himself to rest on your shoulder. As he does, you end up catching a glimpse of his back, fully seeing Cazador’s work in the form of rough, red etchings that coat his entire spine.

You have to force yourself not to ask about them until he’s ready, tightening the hold you have around his head as you riddle his face in kisses, letting your lips linger against his temple as you close your eyes.

“They’re not as bad as they look,” he says then, somehow reading your mind.

As painful as it is to admit, you know he’s right. Compared to other scars you’ve seen his look undeniably perfect. The way they paint the image of what looks to be some sort of sigil against his pale flesh. Despite the violence endured to create such a piece, it’s obvious that there was care put in too. A meticulous hand working away with the precision of someone borderline obsessed.

If it wasn’t the result of abuse you could even call it beautiful. But since it’s not, you only continue to hold him, gripping his face for dear life, wondering what kind of pain he had to suffer to earn such a massive reminder of his ownership.

“Do you know what it is?”

He lifts his head, looking at you like he’s seeking the answer himself. “A brand I’m guessing. Not that I can tell. Unlike you I can’t use a mirror. Nor can I very well reach to trace the damned thing myself.”

Your fingers twitch at his words, feeling the temptation to touch them grow as you remember your own scars. In terms of appearance, they’re much more rigid. Three jagged lines that cover the middle of your stomach, making sure you remember. Ensuring your mind that every day you live on this earth —every new moment spent thinking that you’re worthy of whatever this is between you— that you’ll never be normal.

The moment they dug that first knife into your gut you were marked for life. Branded just like him.

Swallowing hard you force yourself to slip away from his grasp, watching the confusion that erupts before the understanding starts as you shakily discard your leather layer and throw your tunic over your head.

It takes everything in you not to put it back on when you see the look on Astarion’s face. How it studies you with knitted brows and a clenched jaw that makes you want to hold him again.

“Mine are just… lines. They don’t mean anything.” As you motion to the thick slashes that have been carved over countless times you catch his gaze twitching upward, taking in the exhaustion.

“She did this?”

After you nod you feel his hand move forward, ever so gently grazing the top of the centre line with curiosity. “How many times?”

“I don’t remember.”

“But you remember how it felt?”

You press your lips together, breathing through your nose. Sucking in the Inn’s dusty air before blowing it out as you nod, forcing back the memory. Pushing through the pain as your tadpole squirms, asking to let him in.

Like all the other feelings you’ve shared as of late, it’s been so long since you’ve felt his presence like this. Even with the Illithid’s constant use outside of each other, when he calls out to you it’s completely different. The movement behind your eye doesn’t feel like an annoyance. It feels like a call. A tingle of hope that has you answering before you can even question what it is he might want.

When you answer there’s a warmth that hits your skin. Enveloping you completely, you feel the aching of the heat carry through your extremities, cascading down in anxious pools that have you breathing rather hard. Closing your eyes, you see the image of Astarion’s hands in front of you. Slowly he wiggles his fingers and turns his palms, taking in the fact that he’s safely under the sun, despite what he is.

You realize then that this is the first memory he has of freedom. Of a life where he truly believes the tether’s been severed. All the thoughts inside his mind are full of nerves. Building anxieties of the past and the future being interrupted by a present he never thought was possible.

It’s a memory that stirs you to move. To guide his hands to your waist as you crawl into his lap and grab his chin.

Touching his skin you feel that same warmth flow through to your core. Letting it take over all the thoughts of scarring and owners and the lives you’ve both lived to get to this point, it takes away your breath. Pulls from you the needs of anything but him.

In this moment, none of it matters anymore. Every experience is nothing more than a dimming shadow compared to the sensation of his breath wafting over your face as you angle your head down to look at him.

“Do you want this?”

His tongue darts out to line his lips. His hunger growing at the sight of you —at the feeling of you moulded to him like melting wax just cool enough to touch. “Yes.”

“So it’s okay if I—“

There’s a hand in your hair before you can finish, forcing you down to his mouth. It’s rough at first but quickly softens once he’s got you where he wants you. Firmly set atop his thighs and in his grasp. Allowing him enough access to reach up and touch the edge of your neck, his thumb lingering towards the centre to press a soft touch —reminding you that you have to breathe. That the usage of your lungs is no longer second nature but something you actively have to think about through the open-mouthed kisses that work to take it all away.

Your head dizzies at the feeling. All at once your vision blurs while your hands begin to roam, stretching over skin and bone, eventually hitting raised scars that make you kiss him even harder, knowing it’s what he needs. What he deserves after countless years of loveless encounters. After touches, empty of anything resembling the adoration you wish to offer him.

While laying waste to his bruising lips, you clumsily slide down his lap so that you’re standing on the ground, tucked between his open legs and bending forward.

Confused, you feel his face twist against your own, prompting you to pull away and lower yourself further, letting your knees gently come in contact with the floor.

“I was enjoying you where you were,” he muses then, cocking his head to focus on the way your hands begin to slide up over his knees, resting on each outer thigh.

“And now you’ll enjoy me over here.” You smirk.

“Cheeky pup.”

“The cheekiest.”

After that, you shuffle closer and reach for his belt, keeping eye contact every step of the way to make sure you aren’t stepping over any boundaries.

The last thing you’d want is to make him feel uncomfortable —to feel used in all the ways he used to experience. So you combat all that by checking in; offering him subtle glances every time you take the next step.

You can tell immediately that he’s appreciative. Whenever he nods there’s a faint smile that sits across his lips, offering you approval as your fingers knock against the metal clasp of his belt, shakily moving to open it up.

At some point he ends up doing it himself, leaning forward to kiss your forehead and laugh at the nerves that render your fingers useless. Nerves that only spread when you stare up at his face while his hands busily move the strap aside.

After tossing his belt aside he doesn’t let you go further. Instead, he drags you further between his legs, leaning down to cup your cheeks and kiss you all over again.

It’s distracting, to say the least. The feeling of his lips moving in tandem with your own as he reaches around to rid you of your bra with two quick swipes, leaving you just as bare as him.

It sends a shiver down your spine that makes him smirk, his upper lip quirking against yours before he gently bites down making you groan.

“Can’t let you be the only one with a view,” he mutters against you, making you awkwardly laugh as you watch his gaze lower to your naked chest. “Can I, pet?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Your voice sounds anything but confident as his hands continue their descent, matching your previous desires when they linger at your belt, waiting for you to give him the okay.

When you do he makes quick work, unclasping the belt with skillful hands before lightly smacking your ass, signalling you to stand before he carefully slides the rest of it down, thumbing the edges of your legs.

You have to force yourself not to cry out right then and there, feeling overwhelmed by the soft touch of his fingers. How they barely graze the outer parts of your already parting thighs, stopping at your knees when he looks up at you with a smirk.

“You seem nervous, darling.”

Rolling your eyes, you shove an open palm to his chest, pushing him back against the bed with a scoff. One that makes him laugh and watch as you kick off the remainder of the fabric, trying to appear brave. Something that proves to be harder than you anticipate when he swiftly follows suit, giving you a show of your own in the form of freshly exposed skin you’ve only ever imagined in the deepest corners of your mind.

In almost an instant, the fabric slips away, revealing more of him than you possibly could’ve expected, making your mind wander as the building arousal between your thighs twitches with desire. Telling you that you need this.

You open your mouth to ask for more only to be yanked upon his lap causing a yelp to fall from your lips that makes you both laugh.

“You really are a marvel, aren’t you?”

With a smile, his eyes scan your naked frame. Up and down and back, they linger at every part as if he’s studying you for future use. Taking mental notes with each passing freckle or scar that lines the length of bare skin. “I mean truly, look at you.”

As he speaks, one hand runs along your neck —over your shoulder and down your arm until it’s resting at your thigh, gripping you tight. “I’m not sure what God out there decided to make you but remind me to give them my utmost thanks after this is over.”

When he leans in you have to force yourself not to nervously laugh at his praise, once again feeling his lips find refuge on your own, driving you to take things further. Encouraging you to make him feel as good as he deserves.

This time though, instead of asking for approval with a glance you do so with a touch, reaching down to grip the end of his length with gentle hands that make him moan. Ever so quietly, the second you hear it you immediately strengthen your hold, using your free hand to grip his shoulder as you work him slowly, noticing him push. Feeling the subtle arc of his hips buck against your hand, wanting more.

For a moment you think about doing it. Letting your hand tighten further while you pick up the pace. It’d be easy. Nothing more than a simple readjustment but something mischievous stops you from doing it.

Remembering that night at the grove —the one where he relentlessly teased just to get a rise out of you— you find yourself smirking and pulling away, gripping his shoulder even tighter to keep him in place.

Almost immediately, he knows exactly what you’re doing. He can feel it in the way you languidly pull at his cock, barely holding on with each stroke.

“You think you’re clever, do you?”

You quirk your brow and bite your lip, massaging the apex of his shoulder. “I have to be if I’m going to be hanging around you.”

Furthering his torment, you then tighten your grip for a couple more pumps before returning to your previous pace, eliciting a hiss of disapproval that has him gripping both your hips and maneuvering you to sit against his right thigh.

“Oh really?”

Pushing up into your core, Astarion shifts you back and forth with his hands, making your breath catch inside your throat once you realize what you’ve done. How you’ve instantly set yourself up for a failure you know he’ll only revel in winning.

Considering he’s more than capable of making you fluster solely with words, you should’ve expected this —saw it coming from a mile away.

Continuing your ministrations as lazily as possible, he barely registers them as he glides your folds against his leg. Holding you down, he manages to apply the perfect amount of pressure to build the tension, making you press your lips tightly together, forcing back any sound that might be deemed a loss.

Even though it’s anything but a competition. A detail that’s reminded once he maneuvers one of his hands to cup your sex, rubbing rough circles into your clit.

It makes you lose all semblance of thought, forgetting the hold you have on his cock as you shakily reach for his other shoulder, steadying yourself against him.

“Doesn’t it feel nice when you give in?”

Despite the context, there’s surprisingly no snark to his words. No sarcasm or bite —just genuine thought. A question so true to its word that all you can do is pant through the building pleasure and nod; letting him raise you off his leg and station himself at your entrance.

It fills your mind to the brim with needs and wants you never thought you’d feel again. Having been subjected to abuse and then forced upon a journey you’re still not sure you’re ready for, the thought of attachments like this never once crossed your mind.

Even after everything you’d been through, you never thought Astarion was capable of such tenderness —of loving care and safekeeping. Of gentle touches that run across your aching skin as he looks at you and you at him, both of you deciding it’s okay.

As soon as it’s given, he’s sliding into you. Painfully slow, he uses the approval to grant you access to your shared pleasure, pushing through the tightness just as you open your mouth.

“Feel alright?”

Your fingers press against his neck as they slide up to cup his chin so you can pull your foreheads together. “More than alright.”

Through an unsteady breath, he laughs and guides you further down, allowing you both to savour the sensation for a moment before pulling back out again.

As soon as he’s missing you’re already longing for more. Desperate for the fill of his cock, prompting a whine to escape; earning yourself a tut.

“Remember patience?”

You do. More than anything in this moment you remember your claim and how foolish it was to think he wouldn’t forget it.

“I recall you saying—"

“Astarion, please.”

You’re not sure if it’s the anguish in your voice or the squirming of your hips that does it, but almost instantly he’s giving in. Once again offering you exactly what you need in the form of a push and pull so viscerally satisfying you’re left slumped against his chest, keeping hold of his neck. Forcing his hand to grip the back of your head to see the way he ruts inside of you.

It’s a sight that’s almost too much. One that makes you moan and close your eyes, allowing him to move your face to his. At which point you’re on the precipice of ruin. Both body and mind becoming a mess of everything and nothing, forcing your breath to falter.

You can tell Astarion’s in the same boat, struggling to maintain his starting pace the longer you mindlessly grind against him, unable to contribute much of anything else.

Together, the two of you try to move in unison, pushing and pushing —inhaling and exhaling. Anything you can do to share the burden of the building pleasure that grows and grows until—

When it hits, it feels better than you imagined. Deep within there’s a blooming that unfolds, petal by petal, opening to reveal unholy tremors that make you release a heavy plume of air through your closed lips.

Gripping you close, you can feel Astarion follow quickly behind, twitching inside before he inevitably spills out, making both of you groan and fall back onto the bed in a fit of nervous laughter before he cheekily suggests you make use of the tub.

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#where's your patience?#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

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