#give that wolf something to howl at | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xinxiaogato · 5 months

Text

— you're dating who!?

summary. no one believes that you’re dating the esteemed duke of the fortress of meropide. that man is only ever seen locking lips with the orifice of a teacup. however, all of that changes when you and your alleged “boyfriend” are invited to a coworker’s dinner party.

love interest. gn!reader x wriothesley.

warnings. unedited, cursing, bullying, attempted homewrecking, mentions of blood, murder, and assault (nothing crazy), slight angst, lack of communication, a bit suggestive (mentions of light bdsm).

word count. 2,187

note. happy late birthday to wriothesley! this shortfic was inspired by a scene from spy x family (iykyk). you are referred to as “reader” by the way!

while loading up your plate with chips and french fontainian onion dip, you could sense the smugness of your colleagues from all the way across the dining room.

“i mean, we all saw this coming, didn’t we?” one of them piped up with a snarky laugh.

another obnoxiously chortled in return. “i won't forget the day reader told us who could have possibly given them those flowers.”

“right!? and i’m lady furina!”

that joke rocked their worlds to the point that one person started choking on their garlic baguette. your eyes flitted over to your friend, pauline, who was shaking with rage beside you and on the verge of strangling someone.

“why i oughta give them a piece of my mind!” caterwauled pauline, but you perched a hand on her shoulder so that she wouldn’t go ballistic—even if it was on your behalf.

“can’t really blame them,” you conceded. “if you told me you were in a relationship with the iudex of fontaine, i would need a minute.”

“are you saying it’s impossible?”

“i’m saying it’s highly unlikely.”

“hmph! a girl can dream.” pauline haughtily raised her nose into the air and crossed her arms with indignation, which tugged your lips into a small smile. you knew she had your best interests in mind. since day dot, your coworkers were constantly unleashing a tirade of vitriol against you. “anyway, where’s your boyfriend? did he get caught up with something?”

“probably,” you ascertained, taking a sip of red wine. you looked for a seat to settle at; you couldn’t let your chips go cold. “he warned me that he might not make it in time for the party. a new batch of inmates was processed for registration today, and allegedly, they’re unruly.”

her eyes widened after connecting the dots. “are they related to the famous case of the missing paintings? they finally caught the culprits!?”

you raised an eyebrow. “you didn’t know? it’s all over the steambird.”

as you and pauline were sitting down, the hostess of the party, anaïs, and her entourage strode over with purpose. one of anaïs’s minions was the first to start yapping, “well, if it isn’t reader, the person dating the wolf!”

“more like the person who cried wolf!” followed anaïs, which made the group howl like hyenas.

rolling your eyes at their sneers, you replied, “where is your husband, anaïs? don’t tell me he’s at the office ‘working overtime’ with his assistant again.”

all of anaïs’s friends practically broke their necks to look at her.

“h-how did you know about that…!?” anaïs spluttered, her cheeks flared red. “that’s… that’s my personal affairs you’re airing to everyone!”

a follower of anaïs cupped a hand to her ear and hissed, “don’t you remember? reader is friends with charlotte, a journalist for the steambird. she’s notorious for her intel gathering so that she can compete with others for the juiciest scoops!”

“hey, hey, does charlotte know anything about monsieur neuvillette’s type?” pauline whispered to which you were about to answer—only for anaïs to grab your glass of wine.

“you think you’re so high and mighty all the time…!” anaïs said in a shrill voice, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “at least i don’t pretend i’m the bitch of the lord of the fortress of meropide to get attention!”

“i think it would be better for you to channel your energy into divorcing that shitty excuse of a husband,” you corrected her, unfazed by the fact she was threateningly holding the drink above your head. “it’s not your fault that he’s a scumbag, so don’t stick around to see if he’ll change.”

something in anaïs seemed to falter at your words, but it was only for a moment. resentment got the best of her, and in the blink of an eye, red liquid was splashed onto your chest and dripping down your top, making bystanders gasp at the scene before them.

it kind of looked like you just got murdered.

“what is wrong with you!?” pauline furiously yelled after jumping up to shield you, who was still reeling from what happened. “how old are you to be acting like an immature brat!?”

as pauline and one of anaïs’s flunkies began to pull at each other’s hair, a different one pointed a finger into your face while cackling. “ha, serves you right! that outfit must have been dirt cheap anyway, so it couldn’t have been a total loss!”

“oh, you wouldn’t want your shoes ruined, right?” a second cooed, snatching them right off your feet and looking for the nearest window to chuck them out of. “don’t worry, i’ll dry them off for you!”

you got up to take them right back, but anaïs blocked your path, eyes narrowed into slits. “just admit it, reader,” she snarled. “you’re nothing but an attention-seeking whore for the fortress of meropide’s administrator, a goody two-shoes for our boss, and a laughing stock for all of fontaine. you’re nothing!”

“monsieur wriothesley!” a voice resounded from down the hallway, causing everyone in the dining room to freeze. “we’re so honored to have you join us! did lady anaïs invite you?”

before you knew it, a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind to give you a tight squeeze, and a pair of lips kissed the top of your head.

“so sorry i’m late, my love,” a deep voice purred by your ear. “my hands were tied…”

his voice trailed off. wriothesley, whose sudden appearance had dropped every partygoer’s jaw, noticed that your top felt weirdly damp. when he craned his neck to investigate, his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach.

he immediately questioned if it was your blood or not.

“reader!” your boyfriend shouted, turning you around and holding you by the shoulders. a fear he had only felt as a teenager flooded rapidly into his system, and it was taking everything in him to not explode. “what happened to you? are you hurt!?”

you were still stunned in the aftermath, but you quickly collected yourself and placed your hands atop his. “no, no, i’m fine, wrio. i’m not hurt. it’s just red wine.”

“red… red wine?”

recovering from his initial shock, wriothesley twisted around, his jacket fluttering swiftly in tandem. his eyes took in the sight of an awestruck anaïs holding something behind her back and a petrified person clutching onto a pair of shoes (which explained why your dogs were out).

in a calm tone more terrifying than him speaking out of anger, wriothesley said to the hostess, “i apologize for souring the mood. however…” quickly, he engulfed your body with his jacket and swept you off your feet, hitching the air in your throat as he held you close to his chest. “my partner is not feeling well, so we’ll be taking our leave. we humbly thank you for the invitation.”

“b-but you just got here!” anaïs fretted.

her first mistake was revealing the wine glass she was desperately trying to hide earlier. in wriothesley’s realm, we call this a foul.

“reader was just a little tipsy and spilled a drink on themselves!” she crooned, tilting her head up at the duke and innocently batting her eyelashes. “why don’t you stay and become acquainted with your partner’s coworkers?”

her second foul: coveting a man in a relationship.

“i mean, they can’t be unwell to the point of needing to go home!”

her third: messing with reader. and three fouls meant a disqualification.

“heavens, no,” wriothesley insisted. “my partner’s health is my main priority, and time is of the essence. besides, the longer i remain, the less time i have to file a detailed report on an assault and battery that took place here.”

it became so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

“a…assault…?” even through the makeup caked on anaïs’s face, you could see the color drain from it entirely. “what… what assault…!? no assault happened here, your grace!” when his frown spoke volumes, she cried out, “y-you don’t have any proof!”

“oh, i would suggest otherwise. and i believe there are many eyewitnesses to testify.”

you peered around at the guests who had gathered to view the spectacle, and they were nodding in support of wriothesley’s claim, including pauline. even anaïs’s goons were vehemently bobbing their heads up and down, still in disbelief that the man, the myth, the legend himself had graced them with his presence.

“now if you’ll excuse me…” with you firmly in his grasp, wriothesley approached the woman still clinging to your footwear, who immediately began to quiver. “i would like for you to return my partner’s shoes,” he ordered with a look as cold as ice.

“o-of course!” she stammered, extending the shoes toward him. “it was all in good fun, your grace!”

“oh, those aren’t mine,” he said with a cock of his head at your bare toes. “like i said, those belong to my partner.”

finally picking up what was he putting down, the lady shakily slipped your shoes back on your feet for which you glanced up at wriothesley with furrowed eyebrows. he only reacted with a smile that thawed the rigid expression on his face.

“i-i can’t possibly rot in jail!” anaïs was still making a fuss nearby. “i’m so young and beautiful! can’t you look past this, monsieur wriothesley…!? i’ll do anything!”

“well, it’s not something you’ll go to prison for, ma’am,” he said, not even sparing anaïs a glance as he headed for the front door, “but this misdemeanor will forever stain your official records and reputation… just as you stained my partner’s clothes.” (mic drop.)

and that was that. with a quick kiss on both cheeks from pauline, you exited the dead-quiet house in your boyfriend’s arms.

“wrio…” you murmured as he started walking in the direction of your home. “i’m really sorry for inconveniencing you.”

wriothesley momentarily stopped in his tracks to gaze down at you, his lips pursed before sighing. “no… don’t apologize, my love. i’m sorry for not arriving sooner.”

“but that isn’t your fault,” you pointed out.

a chuckle resonated from deep within his chest. “touché.”

however, his lightheartedness faded out with that chuckle when his hands gripped onto you tighter, as if you were about to dissolve into water at any moment.

“what happened, reader?” he croaked, displaying a side of him reserved for your eyes alone. “how long have they been treating you like this? and for you to not even give them a taste of the boxing skills i taught you for these kinds of situations…”

you clutched his jacket tighter to your body. “you already have so much on your plate. i could not dare to tell you something that may weigh on your conscience.”

“please,” he whispered. “i want you to weigh on my conscience.”

after a moment’s worth of hesitation, you finally gave in, explaining that the fresh bouquet of rainbow roses he sent to your office one morning sent your colleagues into a frenzy that turned your life into a nightmare. as you spoke, wriothesley’s expression became grimmer and grimmer. he couldn’t even fathom how much of a shitshow your company was for permitting the kind of behavior he merely glimpsed this evening.

and he couldn't bear the thought that you had been suffering alone for months.

“they didn’t believe me for a second, even when i had pictures of you and me framed on my desk. ‘oh, those must have been edited’.”

realizing wriothesley's muscles were so taut, you attempted to alleviate the atmosphere. “i guess no one can accept an ordinary office worker dating the administrator of the fortress of meropide. like, picture the tianquan of the liyue qixing with an npc.”

in any other situation, your boyfriend would be laughing, but certainly not this one. “no one can determine our relationship,” wriothesley stated with a clear veracity. “you are the light in my bleak world, reader, and nothing is allowed to take you away from me. if so, i will travel to the ends of teyvat to bring you back.”

he then grinned, showing off his cute canines. “and you bet i'll put my handcuffs to use.”

you slapped a hand to your forehead. “way to ruin the mood. i was just about to kiss you.”

in response, he grinded his knuckles into the top of your head, which made you yodel out in pain. “what was that for!?” you exclaimed.

“for not kissing me, but more importantly: for keeping a secret from me,” he clarified, his pale gray eyes twinkling under the moonlight. “no more of that, okay?”

you warmly smiled up at him and rested your head against his broad shoulder, completely wiped out from the party-turned-fiasco. “okay.”

as the two of you reached your abode, a question popped up in your mind. “were you serious about the handcuff thing?”

he smirked. “yes, and you’ll find out just how serious i am after we take a shower together. you reek of wine.”

a pink blush dusted your cheeks. “what? together!?”

“together. you and me.”

“ahhh! put me down!”

“nope. not a chance.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #wriothesley x reader #fluff #crack #comfort #angst #stella writes — !#you're dating who!?

4K notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 4 months

Note

In this 1fur1 au….may I raise you wolf!price? The dog/man basically struts right into your home out of the woods and immediately takes his place as pack leader. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be the one giving orders, price is in charge now.

You want to get off the couch and away from the mass of cuddles? Absolutely not. Price will be giving you a look so domineering you are sitting right back down no questions asked. He has you well trained ;)

The others don’t seem to mind the new addition either, making way for a new top dog. Price is quiet and doesn’t cause trouble, but if you’re late home be prepared to face his doggy wrath

Okay, so I love this concept, but I’m gonna raise you one - and write a new part for it.

(Don’t worry, Gaz is coming soon. This ask just really spoke to me lol).

This is also a part 1 — part 2 coming soon.

Three fuck-off sized wolf dogs is a lot. Like, a lot. There’s the fur, the food, the playtime. And then just the sheer clinginess. You’ve always thought of yourself as a dog person, that they just naturally are drawn to you because you tend to be quiet and respectful of boundaries.

Your boys though. They’re something else. Johnny was the easiest of the three to acclimate to your household. When it was just the two of you, bonding and learning him was easy. Whoever had him first had already done a lot of the work training him. And he naturally seems to like girls better so.

Ghost was more difficult. Clearly some trauma there, and a more wolfy-attitude towards humans. Primarily that he doesn’t seem to understand (or agree with) dumb pet things like harnesses, collars, and about 50% of the commands you give him unless you use your Serious Voice. He’s gotten less stingy with affection as time has gone on and his trust in you has grown.

Helped in part, you think, by learning his personality and behaviors. He’s a creature of strict habit. Likes his routines. Likes his space even more; you’ve always been respectful when he wanders off to another room, or when he climbs off the couch to lay nearby but not with you. You never mind, just call that you love him and leave him be.

Konig has been your biggest challenge so far. A lot of trauma there. And possibly a naturally shy personality; though it’s so hard to tell after everything he’s clearly been through. He’s been improving steadily each day, little by little. He’s sweet as can be, affectionate and snuggly when you manage to get him to join you and the others. The least aggressive with men when you take them for walks.

You’re lucky, the boys are so well-behaved — dislike of men notwithstanding. Scary dog privilege is a true blessing when you live alone, with no close neighbors, and right next to the woods. And they are so ridiculously sweet with you at least.

Still, they can be a lot. Any one of them is nearly the size of you, when all three of them decide to act up, it’s overwhelming.

Johnny will starting howling, pissed that Ghost has pinned him again. Ghost will start barking and grumbling - presumably trying to shut him up. And then Konig will insert himself, whining and tapping his feet, trying to break them up, you think.

Sometimes they’ll knock it off on their own, and Ghost will sneeze, shake off, and everyone will come to sit with you. But sometimes…

“Boys!”

You wade in between them, get a hold of Ghost’s scruff and push him off with your thigh against his muscular shoulder. Nearly trip over Johnny as he tries to scramble up and get at Ghost, crying and growling at the same time somehow. You curse as Konig bumps into you, nearly makes you fall over Ghost, who backs up with his nose scrunched up like he’s gonna bite.

Which is about the time you’ve had enough.

“Boys!” There’s a blessed beat of silence. “Outside, now!”

Johnny charges for the door, barking over his shoulder at ghost, who is quick to follow. Konig is slightly slower, head ducked like he knows he’s being part of the problem.

You groan with relief as they pile outside, all three immediately getting into another tussle. They’ve been keyed up the last three days no matter what you do and today seems to be the day it’s finally boiling over. You just wish it was on a day that the yard isn’t wet with mud.

Well then. You drop onto the porch steps and run your hands down your face, sighing. Best to let them stay out as long as possible — try to make bath time a little easier, at least.

You hear nails on the wood next to you, a little squeak, a snort. Figuring it’s one of the boys, you reach a hand without looking and tangle your fingers in their scruff. Pause because… that does not feel like any of your boys.

No way.

You pick your head up, turn slowly. And yup, there’s a dog you’ve never seen before. Another weird wolf one. Not as big as Konig at least. Closer to Ghost’s size — and actually similar in coloration. Cream and tan, with sharp blue eyes, a funny pattern along his cheeks and jaw that looks a bit like a beard.

“What in the…” you breathe, “is there some kind of doggy magnet on this house or something?”

You creep your fingers up his neck and around to his chin, give him a little scritch before he tilts his head to sniff at your wrist.

“Hi, handsome,” you coo, “oof.”

You hurry to prop yourself up as he shoves his muzzle into your stomach, nuzzling up under your shirt. You squeak at the cold, wet nose on your skin — and then again he licks at your ribs.

“Alright, alright,” you huff, shoving at his chest.

He backs up, though not far, ears perked forward and eyes bright. You stare back at him for a second, then sigh and do your due diligence, searching for a collar or microchip. He waits patiently until you’re done, then stands and shakes himself off.

You arch an eyebrow as he barks twice. All three of your boys stop, heads jerking up and turning to the two of you on the porch. Another bark and your little pack comes trotting back. When Johnny tries to nip at Ghost’s haunch, the new dog rumbles low in his chest. And to your shock, Johnny falls in line and slinks inside.

“Huh,” you say.

The mystery pup sneaks a kiss to your cheek before following the others inside. When you just sit there for a second, staring, he twists to look at your over his shoulder and gives you a little “boof.”

You laugh. “Bossy bastard.” And follow them in.

#asks #thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #1fur1

2K notes · View notes

diejager · 4 months

Note

Hi! In your Only Human AU what would happen if TF 141 + König and Horangi go into a something like a “rut”? Or is that possible in this universe? If it is would they ask Y/N for help? If possible can it be in the form of a Drabble🥺?

Rut Cw: rut/heat cycles, mention of sex, possessive behaviour, obsessiveness, mention of knotting, implied smut, tell me if I missed any.

Ruts were odd phenomenons, it reduced hybrids and monsters to desperate and horny men, clinging onto the person they considered their mate for relief and pleasure. Some hybrids had ruts, like canid and felid shifters or shifters in general, a monthly cycle that incapacitated them. Others were luckier, having a few ruts per year, sometimes once every few month or once a year; these could range from a dragon to a harpie or from a percht to a gorgon. There, however, were some exceptions, spectral beings and the undead were without ruts, their body long dead and able to function without it, yet they could impregnate and be impregnated as any other hybrid and monster could. They suffered from bouts of occasional arousal, little flares of pleasure when faced with a situation that turned them on or by strong emotions towards someone or something.

You were unfortunately enough to be thrown into a group of rutting hybrids - with the sole exception of Ghost - unprepared and without a forewarning on how to deal with them. You had to deal with a clingy werewolf, howling at the moon and whining in utter heartbreak because you told him off for humping your leg in the rec room, huffing and gasping down your neck. A hissing and possessive tiger, stalking you down the halls and jumping you whenever you were alone to ravage you against the wall, mouthing and nipping at your neck, making sure his scent would stick over the wolf and nagual musk. And a protective nagual, looming over you like a shadow, arm slung around your shoulder and ready to start a fight with the other shifters if they tried masking his scent.

Luckily, their ruts never overlapped, it might’ve been a fortunate coincidence, but one that you wouldn’t take for granted. You had a schedule drawn up in the first year after they accepted you into their pack, Soap’s was always after the full moon, the silver disk being the catalyst to his urge; Horangi had his in the later days of each month, oftentimes beginning on the last day of the werewolf’s rut; and Alejandro took the first week of the month, starting slowly on the third or fourth day and ramping up on the following day.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t put in consideration for the others. Price, Gaz and König also had their moments in the yearly cycle, falling victim to the throes of instinctual need. You thanked your lucky star that Gaz rutted once or twice a year - thrice on rare accounts - with little to no change in his character. He might’ve been more hands, wanting to keep a hand around your waist, to give you soft and loving kisses on your lips as much as he did on your cheek, nose and forehead.

Price and König were a handful, one hoarded you to his office and had you follow him wherever he went, and the other was deathly possessive and deep into his instincts. König was on the extreme side of his type, breaking out nearly six to seven times a year, stuck mid shift with broader shoulders, red eyes and a monstrous appearance, and he had half the mind to stay considerate to other. A danger stumbling on two feet. Price was the medium, a perfect balance with three or four ruts yearly and a the self control to let you go if the situation demanded it. Despite his self-control, he was still a dragon, controlling and possessive, ordering you to come straight back to him whether or not you were knotted to Soap or Rudy was balls deep inside of you.

Despite Rudolfo being considered a monster, he was simply a human with the ability to control cadejos, as vulnerable and as resilient as one. And being human meant that he got aroused, coaxing you into his room for the night and taking care of the heat brewing between your legs. Much like Rudy, Ghost retained his bodily function - human wise - and came back as a monster, but he was a stranger to ruts, scoffing at the neediness and vulnerability of one. That, however, never stopped him from indulging in his sexual kinks and dark fetishes, having you as the subject of his exploration if no one else hit their cycles.

They were a handful, from Soap’s mutt-like character to Rudy’s calm demeanour, they had you exhausted, wringing you dry and panting, always ending up face down or backed against the wall. You were grateful - truly - that the others would willingly jump in and take over for you, helping whoever it was spend his rut. Now, you’d have to redraw your calendar, tired and clinging to your bed to stand up.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @virginalsacrifice @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo

2K notes · View notes

starboyshoyo · 11 months

Text

Unspoken Words

Characters: All NRC students x reader (seperately)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: hurt/comfort

Unspoken reasons why the NRC boys love you!

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle Rosehearts seems like perfection; like the very image of what one should strive for. Anyone who knows him can admire his hard work and diligence, because that is the extent to what they can see. But you see his delight at the simplest of things; things that he never got to experience in childhood. Riddle holds you dear to him because you encourage his rare moments of whimsy, and love them wholly- just as he loves you.

Trey Clover is always being told that he should aim higher, because the talent he holds would be squandered should he go down the path of the simple village baker. He smiles and politely tells them that he’ll consider it- but really, he’s tired of the input he never wanted in the first place. It’s all the more reason to appreciate the way you trust in his dreams. Trey knows what he wants, and you won’t push him for anything more.

Cater Diamond has two different sides, like the faces on a card. Sometimes he’s the party-loving Cay-kun, and other times he wants nothing more than to collapse in his bed and sleep the day away. Being Cay-kun is exhausting. It’s not entirely him but he can’t seem to bring himself to show the real Cater to anyone but you, because you understand that the mask is necessary sometimes. It’s okay if he’s not ready to show the world his face yet. You’ll be waiting for him when he is.

Bluntly honest is the best way to describe Ace Trappola. If someone asked, he’d call himself a realist. He’s not here to mess around or play the hero. And sometimes that can hurt people’s feelings and push them away. But being truthful and being mean are two different things, and he knows he can always trust you to tell him when he oversteps. Ace may fumble from time to time, so he’s glad you’re always there to help him back up.

Deuce Spade was reluctant to begin dating you at first. He wasn’t proud of who he was in middle school, nor is he proud of who he is at the moment. He thought that he was unworthy of you, that he needed more time to grow. When he first figured out that you weren’t the most perfect person either, it didn’t turn him away. In fact, it relieved him. Deuce loves that you can be imperfect together- and that you’re willing to grow alongside him even more.

SAVANACLAW

Leona Kingscholar is used to being the spare; the disposable one. Even though he’s the second prince of the Sunset Savannah, even though he was born into a life of privilege, he knows what it’s like to have to fight for yourself and your place in the world. When he met you, he could hardly believe that for once, a fight wasn’t necessary. It took a while for him to trust, but now Leona knows that he will always be your first choice, as you will be his.

From the outside, Ruggie Bucchi’s obsession over food is a bit excessive. Does one really need to defend every scrap with his life? He’s tired of others laughing at the way he packs snacks in his bag and sneaks crumbs off the tabletop. It’s telling that you hand him extras when you don’t have to, that you make sure he always has more than he needs. It shows that you value the things he values, so that he can do the same in return to you.

Jack Howl is a lone wolf, just like his name. He’s always relied on his own strength to get by. Owing a debt is like putting his life in someone else’s hands, so accepting favors is something that he’ll never do. When he first realizes he loves you, it’s hard to accept that another person now holds a part of his heart. But give him some time and he’ll begin to appreciate having someone to share the burden with. It’s refreshing to have company without debt or guilt.

OCTAVINELLE

They say those who have suffered the most have the most empathy. Azul Ashengrotto thinks there must be something wrong with him, then. After all the ridicule he’s endured, all he wants is to watch his tormentors cry as well. So why does his heart beat so fast then, when he sees how kind you are to others? There’s so little logic to it- but the heart wants what it wants.

Jade Leech gives only as much as he takes. In his mismatched eyes, it’s only reasonable that a transaction is balanced on both sides. So it’s a surprise to him when you don’t demand everything to be split, fifty-fifty. It’s with you that he learns the connection between trust and equals. Not having to count out every exchange leaves Jade more time to love you with all his heart.

Floyd Leech is notorious for his mercurial behavior. It’s a laughing matter for some students, and the target of frustration for many others when he fails to show the same enthusiasm he had before. If he’s already in a bad mood, then why are they making it worse by nagging him? You’re his retreat in times like that, because you take his emotions seriously, no matter how ridiculous they seem in the moment.

SCARABIA

Kalim Al-Asim knows he can be dense. As the heir to a merchant empire, he’s got some level of self-awareness in him, even if he doesn’t always know how to use it. He can tell when he’s said the wrong thing to you. The wringing of hands, the twisting of brows make him so nervous, but he can’t do anything but laugh it off lest he say something to make it worse. So he appreciates it when you patiently explain to him how you feel, even when you’re not in the mood to. Sometimes he just needs help to understand.

There’s no doubt that Jamil Viper has… questionable methods of obtaining his means to an end. With the precision and patience of a snake, he can use any means necessary to strike. But when you’re around he finds himself thinking more of what’s right than just what he wants. You are his conscience, in the best and worst of times; and he can’t help but love you for it.

POMEFIORE

Vil Schoenheit’s entire life has been publicized since the day he stepped into the spotlight. While he takes pride in his looks and envies anyone who can shine brighter than him, he finds that when he is with you, he can be whatever he wants to be with no eyes on him. No cameras, no rehearsals, no pressure, just two hearts beating side by side.

Rook Hunt has a lot to say, and so little time to say it. He is always on the move, always examining something else to find the beauty in it. And though it’s hard to be patient, he loves you for always listening when he talks, even when he rambles for hours about the smallest things. To sit still for that long is a feat in itself.

The frustrations of Epel Felmier are evident when others treat him as lesser simply because of the way he looks. He’s still learning how to use his charm in other ways, but it’s hard to unlearn so many old habits. Punishments from Vil don’t help either. So when the work gets too harsh, you make him forget about being weak or strong- and when you’re in front of him, all he wants to be is yours.

IGNIHYDE

Idia Shroud is used to watching the world go by without him. Sometimes he feels like an outside observer, or even a roadblock for others to climb over on their way to greatness. But with you, he never feels like an inconvenience. He feels wanted and needed- something he hasn’t felt for a long, long time.

DIASOMNIA

Malleus Draconia is lonely. It’s plain and simple as that. He wants the company of others, outside of those assigned to guard him and bow to his every whim. So Malleus covets the fact that you are simply here, by his side of your own volition. For the first time in his life, Malleus thinks that he might be content.

Lilia Vanrouge has lived through centuries. As a human, you cannot even begin to fathom bridging the gap in time. There is just so much that he has seen that he can’t share with you. So please, just let him hold you while he has the chance. Let him cherish the way you live in the moment. Together, you can forget the coming of the future.

Sebek Zigvolt is constantly under pressure. Not from others, but from himself- but either way, the stress gets to him. He would never admit it, but the stolen moments you spend together make him happier than he’s ever been. His shoulders ease, and his scowl disappears for a time. Just don’t point it out, or they’ll be back again full force- accompanied by a blush.

It’s not that Silver doesn’t care about what people are saying- he really, really does. But when he falls asleep so easily, some people come to think that he’s bored out of his mind. He was anxious that you’d think the same, but to his surprise, you understand his struggles. He’s trying his best to be more attentive to you, and you welcome his efforts with open arms.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

2K notes · View notes

gatitties · 8 months

Text

War & crack II

—Task Force 141 x young!reader

—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic

—Warnings: none

Part One / Halloween special

yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣

─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.

─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.

─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.

─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.

─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.

─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).

─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.

─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.

─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.

─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.

─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.

─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.

─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.

─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...

─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.

─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.

— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.

─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.

─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.

─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.

─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.

─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.

─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.

─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.

─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.

─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).

— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.

— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.

— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.

— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.

— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.

— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.

— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.

— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.

— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.

— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.

— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.

— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?

1K notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 1 year

Text

Hungry Like the Wolf - Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: Remus is gifted an alternative potion to Wolfsbane near the full moon, meant to convert the magic of his transformation into energy. But the run you expect him to go on to burn some of the energy off isn't as much of a jog as it is a chase, and you're the one he's after. // sorry mom for writing smut to a song from a band you like.. god willing you never find this 🫡

Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), p in v, p in v from the back, oral sex (f receiving), bondage, predator/prey dynamics (everything is consensual), overstimulation, lots of wolf metaphors and language, remus is not in his wolf form, he is human

WC: 5.8K / navigation

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

James is incredibly skilled at potions. You’ve known this since first year, since he rivaled Severus himself, and he only got better with age and lessons. Now he’s a master, but he’s set aside his talents to take care of his wife and son. Honorable, of course, but it makes you wonder what he could be if he tried his hand again at the cauldron.

He’d given you a taste of his skill last night, presenting Remus with a little bottle of purplish ooze at your weekly dinner.

“‘S an alternative to wolfsbane,” He’d explained, a hand sheepishly clinging to the back of his neck and scratching at his chocolate curls there, “It’s supposed to channel all of the transformative magic into energy. So you’ll stay human, but you’ll be, like, bouncing off the walls.”

Wolfsbane is appreciated, but seriously lacking as a solution. Remus still has to endure the cracking of his bones, the tearing of his skin, the self-destruction every month, so for James to cook up a remedy that made Remus almost normal, well… your big bad boyfriend had shed a tear or two.

“Okay,” You exhale, a loud sigh in the silence of the shack you chain Remus up in every full moon, “Give it a test, Rem.”

He strains his wrists, veins popping under his tan, scarred skin. Nothing there. Then his ankles, he flexes his calves and tugs hard at the restraints, but nothing gives.

“Perfect.” You wish you could grin at the satisfactory results, but chaining your boyfriend up for reasons other then sex is nothing you’re too happy about.

“If the potion doesn’t work,” Remus rasps, voice gruff from the heavy light of the moon outside, “You should be safe with me chained. And if it does work, you can let me go. ‘Spose I’ll just go for a run or something, Prongs said it would make me hyper.”

“Alright,” You nod, leaning in to kiss his soft, smooth temple. He leans into the affection with a strained smile, eyes on the purple bottle in your hands.

“Bottoms up,” You grin warily, raising the narrow-necked flask to Remus’s lips. As soon as he purses his lips around the mouth you tip the vial down his throat, purple ooze gone in a flash. It doesn’t taste good, if the immediate grimace that scrunches Remus’s nose and purses his lips is any evidence to go by.

“Christ,” The man dry heaves, and you smear a dollop of the substance away from the corner of his mouth, “Oh, god, I think Prongs shit in that bottle and charmed it purple.”

“Oh,” You recoil at the thought, smearing the ooze off of your skin with Remus’s discarded shirt, “Well that’s lovely. How long to transformation?”

“If this doesn’t work,” Remus pants, scar-littered chest heaving, “A few minutes. Go on, dove, wait outside. If you hear howling, go back home and come get me in the morning.”

“Okay,” You reluctantly rise, brushing your knees off from where they’d been slowly sinking into the soft earth beneath you, “Good luck. Love you, Rem. Be safe, please try not to scratch over that cut on your thigh; it hasn’t healed right.”

“Can’t help it,” Remus groans, head ducking as his stomach begins churning. He’s starting to think that maybe James isn’t as good at potions as you’ve all been thinking, and that he’ll start morphing any second now, He lets out a sharp cry, jaw tightening as he clenches it and squeezes his eyes shut, “Go, dove, now!”

You don’t need to be told twice. You rush for the door of the shack, swinging it shut behind you and praying the worn hinges don’t just snap. You lean your back to the door, waiting, listening as Remus feels either the effects of the potion, or the effects of the moon. Whichever one it is, something is happening to him.

There’s a string of groans, moans, and everything in between, and you’ve never been present for a transformation of his (strict orders from the man himself), but you’re sure that’s what’s happening. You hear the chains rattle as he strains against them, and you’re praying he doesn’t manage to snap them in a burst of wolfish rage.

Then the noise dies down, and eerie silence falls over the forest. You’re still leaned up against the door, and every rustle of the wind through the trees or mouse through the bushes has your stomach flipping in fear.

Apparently though, you shouldn’t be worried about what’s in front of you, more what’s behind you.

The knob your hand is still draped over turns, and you’re ripping yourself away from the door with a terrified gasp. The door swings open behind you, and there Remus stands, human, but- not.

He’s human-sized, human-shaped, but something isn’t right with his eyes. They’re darker than normal, more dilated, and he’s staring hard at you with a tight jaw while his bare chest heaves.

His shoulders are illuminated by the soft, warm light of the shack that’s spilling through the door but his face- his scarred face is shining solely in moonlight. It bathes him, drapes him where clothes don’t, and makes the dark abyss of his eyes shine.

“Remus,” You breathe, an uncertain whisper in the night air.

He doesn’t answer.

His eyes, still pools of darkness, with the slightest rim of his familiar chocolate brown around the edge, rake slowly down your form. You’re only clad in a drafty nightgown, ready to either run back to bed at the sound of a wolf, or wave goodbye to Remus from your window as he jogged away. You hadn’t expected this, whatever it is.

“Remus-” You try again, watching as his eyes gradually reach your face again. Before you can get the last letter out, before you can fully taste his name on your tongue, his eyes snap to yours and narrow infinitesimally.

“Run.”

Your body understands before your brain does, and your leg moves backwards to plant your foot somewhere behind you. But you linger, “What?”

He lunges for you, hands outstretched, “Run,” and you blanche.

A noise comes out of your throat that can’t be categorized as you whirl on your feet. You suppose it’s somewhere between a shriek and a gasp, but it’s warbled as your lungs take in more air than they’re letting out. Despite it all, your chest heaves, and your feet ache as you slap them against the forest floor. Remus isn’t a particularly fast runner, he smokes too much to be able to breathe well, but whatever’s chasing you is more than Remus. You’ve never seen Remus this intense before, you’re not sure he’s even in there. You don’t know what James has concocted, but you’re going to have a long list of notes ready when he asks for a report.

Your skin is on fire, almost like Remus has already caught you. You hadn't bothered to look anywhere but those eyes, and you fear the worst; long, gnarled wolf fangs on his fingertips and razor sharp canines over his tongue. You can hear him inches behind you, he could reach out and snatch you if he tried, but he doesn’t. You realize with a sick sense of despair that he’s chasing you for fun, that you’re his prey and he’s letting you have the illusion of escape. You can’t outrun him, he’ll always be a few steps behind. You hear his breath, and if you concentrate you can feel its ghost on the back of your neck as you sprint through the woods. It’s slower, more even than your erratic gasps, the heave of your chest making you lightheaded.

You don’t know which way you’re running anymore, but there’s nothing for miles. No gas station you can beg for help in, no nearby farm where you can distract Remus with a lone sheep. It’s just trees, trees that you can’t climb before he reaches you.

The crack of his feet against twigs, leaves, and all in between slows slightly, and you know it’s not because he can’t keep up. He doesn’t even sound out of breath, and you’re terrified at the thought that he could outrun you by miles and you wouldn’t stand a chance. Now he’s several steps behind, and tears brim at your eyes, hopeful ones that beg for the possibility that he’s been distracted by some wildlife.

Soon enough, his presence fades away altogether. You don’t dare look back, you’re terrified of seeing the face of the man you love contorted, twisted by the purple potion into something dark and predatory; something hungry.

When you’re absolutely sure he’s not there anymore, and only the sounds of the forest surround you, chirping crickets and wind howling like a chilling reminder of the moon above, you slow down, immediately hunched over your knees to try and catch your breath. There’s no movement but your own, the great rise and fall of your chest and the sagging of your shoulders. You don’t recognize the part of the woods you’ve come to, and you bite back tears as you realize that your best hope is climbing a tree and waiting until morning.

There’s one to your left that looks good for climbing. The branches are low hanging and you could probably pull yourself up enough to have a bird’s eye view of the forest so that you can watch for Remus.

Then there’s the snap of a twig behind you, and your stomach plummets. You whirl around to press your back against the trunk of the tree, eyes wide as they scan the forest in front of you. You see nothing, not a sign of life in sight, so you edge around the tree, chin touching your shoulder as you check your side view. When you’ve scanned your left adequately, and found nothing out of order, you turn your head to the right, and there he is.

He’s standing an inch away from you, dark eyes fully lit by the moon. You scream loud enough to send birds fleeing from their trees, and he lunges for your open mouth. Your panicked shout turns into a warbled cry as he kisses you hard, tongue nearly gagging you as he seems determined to make you swallow it.

His hands have an iron grip on your waist as he looms over you, and you struggle to push and shove at his shoulders for a breath. It’s only when he moves on, leaving his tongue outstretched as he drags it from your mouth to your jaw that you can breathe.

“Remus!” You cry, struggling to escape his grip, ‘No, no- please! Please let me go, I- I don’t know what James made you but please, it’s me! Don’t hurt me, Remus please don’t hurt me, I-”

His hand snakes up your throat to clamp over your mouth. The tears that had beaded in your eyes are flowing down your cheeks now as you shake with a sob, and the clear liquid trickles over his scarred skin.

“Dove,” He murmurs, hot and wet into your neck, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You’re only able to manage a confused whimper from behind his heavy hand, but he licks a stripe along your jaw and bumps the tip of his nose into the bridge of your own.

“Did you think I was going to hurt you?” He asks, breath fanning over your cheek. You nod, still wary, and he coos in sympathy, lips pressing to your skin.

“No, darling.” He promises, and the grip he has on your waist that’s pinning you to the tree seems a lot less sinister now, “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have let you run.” He dips his nose to your neck, takes in a breath, a drag of your scent that flows through his veins like ecstasy if the shuddering exhale he releases over your skin is any evidence.

“No,” He lets out a wry chuckle, mouthing once more at your neck, “I wanted a chase. I’m not going to hurt you, I’m going to eat you, dove. And then I’m going to fuck you. Do you understand?”

He uncovers your mouth so that you can answer him, and you let out a sharp gasp, “Remus, I- What?”

“He said energy,” Remus pants, still licking at your neck like it’s coated in ambrosia. He breaks away with a heavy groan, like it’s a monumental feat to tear himself away from your skin, “James said, it’ll be converted into energy. Well it was.”

He gestures to his torso, and your eyes travel down his scarred chest until they reach- oh god.

Shit, he’s hard. Like, painfully, achingly, astoundingly hard, his cock so erect that it’s curved up towards his belly and already leaking precum. Your mouth falls open and you swear it lines itself with drool, your chest still heaving from the adrenaline of the moment.

“I’m on fire,” Remus pants, head downturned, hands in fists as his side to keep from touching you. The veins in his hands pop and his arms tremble with the force of his grip. You catch a hollow, empty feeling below your belly at the sight.

“I’m- I can’t control it, I need- I need something,” He grunts, snapping his head up so that he can meet your eyes, “If you don’t want this, tell me now.”

“Remus, I- I don’t-”

“Tell me!” He roars, eyes wide as he breathes heavy, “I need to know now, Y/N. Yes or no?”

“Yes!” You nod vigorously, eyes fixated on his twitching, leaking cock, “Yes, Remus, I want this.”

He reaches for the skirt of your nightgown with a swift hand, and in one fluid motion, it’s torn off of you. Your breath hitches in shock as your back suddenly hits the bark of the tree behind you, and Remus bunches your nightgown into a strip of fabric.

“Hands up,” He instructs, and as you’re fumbling to process his words and comply, he repeats it, “Hands up!”

“I am! I am,” You gush, arms shaking as you hold them above your head, “Remus, what are you-?”

“Around the tree,” He instructs, gripping one of your wrists and pulling you to the side with it. You stumble as he manhandles you, but manage to catch yourself in the soft earth below while he puts one of your wrists on either side of the tree branch above you.

He makes quick work of your wrists, tying one end of the nightgown to your right wrist, then slinging it over the tree branch and securing the other end to your free wrist. It means that you’re hanging from the tree by your wrists, your feet just barely still touching the ground.

“Remus,” You whimper, squirming in the cool night air. You feel much too exposed, breasts lit by the moon and panties the only thing stopping you from being completely naked. But when Remus steps back to admire his work, something inside of your stomach begins to coil at his blackened eyes.

He drops to his knees and they hit the ground with a dull thump. The ghostly fire you’d felt from the thought of his touch before was now pleasurable instead of painful. Now you ache for him, a heavy gush of slick already gathering behind the fabric of your panties.

It’s no surprise that Remus zeroes in on the lacy material. He starts mid-thigh, pressing his nose into your flesh like he’s trying to drill a hole there.

“Mm,” He groans, mouth opening to press haphazardly to your skin. He grunts into your flesh, fingers rising to squeeze at your skin.

“Smell so fucking good,” He rasps, his voice gruff from the effort it’s taken him to restrain himself, “God, what- whatever James put into this stuff didn’t stop my senses from heightening. Fuck, it’s like- hnngh,” He licks a fat, wet, hot stripe up your thigh, flicking his tongue into the crease of its base, “‘Never tasted you like this before, dove.”

“Remus,” You whimper, squirming in your restraints, trying to force yourself lower to meet his tongue at your thigh, “Please, please hurry.”

“I- mmf,” Remus’s nose presses against the hood of your clit, lips ghosting over the fabric covering your slit, “Dove, I can smell you, I can smell how wet you are. I can smell it, fuck, dripping, pooling in your cunt. I-” He lunges for the hem of your panties with his teeth, snagging the fabric on his canines and tearing it off of you, “I need to taste you, darling.”

Apparently he’s done savoring you. His teasing touches and slow buildup are nowhere to be seen, now he leads with his tongue and jams it into your cunt with almost no warning. Your thighs jerk at the sudden intrusion, but once you get them back in place you try sinking down ont his face with what little give your restraints give you.

“Oh! Oh, Remus,” You shriek, your exhale laced with a gluttonous moan as Remus’s tongue laps at your slick, “Oh, god, you feel so good.”

“You taste amazing,” He marvels, speaking with his face buried so far in your cunt that you think you feel the words more than you hear them. They crawl up your spine, thrumming through your blood and lodging themselves into your brain, only egging on the pleasure rolling through your core.

Remus’s tongue is eager and rough, his mouth alive as he ravages you from below. You feel the scrape of his teeth against your clit, and the sensation is so jarring that you nearly snap the branch above you from how hard you straight against your restraints. He has no boundaries, no limits, no control as he sucks you dry, tongue running over and over and over again through your folds to lick up any last drop of slick that your cunt is still pouring eagerly. He drags a tongue full of the stuff to your clit, smearing and covering the sensitive bud in your slick. From there, when it’s coated and dripping, he sucks it dry, tongue bobbing against the bundle of nerves so desperately that you squeeze your thighs around his face.

He seems to realize that you’re uncomfortable now, with the way you’re struggling so hard to bring him in impossibly closer. He doesn’t need to think twice before he grabs the backs of your thighs, nails digging into the soft, pillowy flesh of your ass.

He spreads your legs further, wrapping them around his head and throwing them over his shoulders. It means he can attack your cunt from a new angle, nose grinding against your clit as he makes out with your hot, wet pussy.

He’s insatiable, sucking slick out of your cunt that it hasn’t even produced yet. His tongue runs wet and eager over the most sensitive parts of your body, and flicks impossibly far into your hole, squelching obscenely as he tongue-fucks you.

“Fuck,” He growls, the animalistic sound sending a shiver up your spine as he hauls you further against his face, smashing his nose and tongue even further into you. His words are spoken into your cunt and his lips, tongue, and teeth all grate against your folds, the humming vibrations of his voice nearly sending you over the edge.

“Cum,” He snarls, demanding and rough. He fucks his tongue into you relentlessly, nose providing constant stimulation to your clit as it bobs against the nub, “Cum! Cum on my face,” He orders, and you let his words fuel the blaze of pleasure that’s burning hot and wild at your core, “I want to eat your cum, dove, now.”

The last word tapers out into a raspy growl, a gruff edge to his voice that makes it final. You let the coil that’s been slowly tightening below your belly finally burst, and you cum just as voraciously as he’s been eating you out the entire time.

You feel like you’ve squirted, but you can’t tell for sure, because his mouth is sucking the cum out of you before it can go anywhere. There’s no splatter on his face because his mouth is latched tight to your cunt, lips suctioned so that your release shoots into his mouth like his does so often in yours.

He grunts and groans viciously into your pussy as he licks you clean, tongue lapping over every available inch of your cunt until you’re sure it’s got no remnant of your slick or your final release. If his saliva wasn’t replacing your slick, you’re sure you’d be dried out by now, completely sucked void of all of your wetness.

When he’s milked every last taste of your cum out of your folds, he growls in frustration. It’s a huffy sort of sound, and your cunt is already tingling with the prospect of your next release.

He pushes your shoulders off of him and in one fluid motion, stands and lunges for your wrists. He knocks his face into your own to do so, and you have to lean back to take a breath when he kisses you because he’s such a presence.

His tongue is just as eager in your mouth as it was in your cunt, and you can taste your own release on him. He licks up your own tongue, groaning as he nips lightly at your bottom lip and smooths over it with a sweet lap of his tongue. You beg for more in the way that you tip your face up into his own, and you feel him wrestling with your nightgown where it’s tied around your wrists. He kisses more aggressively the harder he strains to blindly untie you, and when he finally loses his patience, he growls down your throat.

“Fuck,” He snaps, abandoning the careful grip he has on each side of the knot and tearing the fabric in two instead. Apparently his senses weren’t the only thing still heightened, it seems that his strength is above average as well.

“Run,” He pants into your mouth as you nearly fall to the ground. Your thighs are shaky, and you don’t think you can move them, but when he grips your jaw and snarls again against your lips, “Run.”, you force them to support you.

It feels like deja vu, sprinting away from Remus in the forest, but this time it’s better. Because this time you’re content with, aroused by your role as his prey, and the predatory presence behind you makes your cunt leak.

It’s another round of chase, and you can actually feel his heat behind you. It’s in the breaths that fan over the back of your neck, and as they fade away you realize he’s letting you have the illusion of escape once more. He’s too close to hide, your flight is fruitless.

Now he’s stalking you, as you slow down in a clearing. He’s hunted you down, he’s tracked you through the trees and he’s got you trapped. He’s the perfect predator; cunning, sharp, hungry.

A sudden noise from your left makes you sprint to your right, and you’re tackled only three steps away. You feel Remus collide with you and only his hands shield your bare back from the messy earth beneath you, but you’re not sure you’d be able to feel the scrape of a twig against your skin even if he hadn’t put his hands there, because his cock is already inside of you.

He doesn’t give you any time to process your takedown before he’s jackhammering into you, cockhead nudging at your slit before you’d even hit the ground. He’s got you locked in, and you shout at the unexpected, but pleasurable intrusion.

“Remus!” You scream, shaky legs wrapping around him by instinct. Eating you out without giving himself any stimulation must have been torture, because his cock is so hard you think you could snap it off if you bent it wrong.

It’s pounding your pussy, Remus is thrusting so fast and so deep into you that you think it might burst through your insides and tear you apart. He’s fucking like a rabbit - hard and fast - but you think you’re technically his as the big bad wolf destroys you.

His tongue had loosened you, and you’d accumulated more slick during the hunt that’s squelching and sloshing around his stiff dick. He’s leaking precum, a steady ooze of the stuff that gets driven into your cunt as he fucks roughly into you. He’s close to his own release already, the buildup of licking out your pussy having gotten him plenty aroused. His dick is already twitching inside of you, and your steady cries through the night air as his hips slap against yours, balls hitting the globes of your ass, only egg him on further.

You swear he howls when he cums. It’s a long, loud, haunting sound that he pumps into your neck, his teeth gnawing at your skin like he’s the wolf you thought you’d escaped from.

You can feel him biting at your shoulder as he fucks his orgasm into you, cum spurting from the head of his cock and painting your insides, gushing out around his length as he pounds you. You’re like a ragdoll in his grip, your body shaking with the force of his thrusts.

“Remus, Remus, Remus!” You chant, mouth barely able to form the words as you fight back open-mouthed screams. Your throat feels sore at how loud you’re screaming, how intensely the force of his thrusts are rocking you back and forth on the forest floor, and when he’s milked his orgasm dry, he gives you no warning before flipping you over.

His heightened strength really comes in handy as he lifts you effortlessly from the ground below him, and flips you onto your stomach. It’s a movement you’re not ready for, and your arms barely catch you from face-planting into the forest floor.

“Remus!” You shriek, his name like a mantra as he butts his hips up against your ass. You’re worried he’ll try fucking your ass without easing you open first, but he plunges straight for your cunt again, this time from the back.

You’re sensitive, of course, from not only your first orgasm but the way Remus had just ravaged your sloppy cunt, and your second orgasm is fast approaching. From this angle, Remus’s cockhead slams against your clit for a few thrusts before he slots it into your leaking cunt, and the repeated pressure that slaps your clit has you already cresting.

“Oh, god!’ You cry, head hung so close to the earth that you can smell the dirt inches from your face. Your thighs are trembling as Remus’s cock fucks through them, and you cum with fire spreading through your veins. He feels the constant convulsions of your cunt spasming with your orgasm, squeezing his cock as pleasure pulses through your folds. You’re screaming, or at least, you think you are, but you can’t tell, because your hearing cuts out for a moment.

When it comes back, Remus is grunting hot and heavy into the back of your neck, teeth once more digging into your skin. Apparently there’s still some animalistic urge in him to bite, to prey, to devour.

His cock is barely less stiff now that he’s fucked through his first orgasm, but apparently the feeling of you cumming around him is already leading him to a second. He’s impossibly horny, skin shining with sweat under the pale moonlight above that drips onto your back from his hairline. He licks it away, moaning at the salty taste and smearing it into your skin.

You cum in tandem, because your orgasm leads his on, then his slams another straight into you. You’ve never cum twice in a row this fast before, you’ve always had a moment to breathe, but apparently Remus can fuck two out of you in a minute straight if he tries.

Your core is ablaze, white hot pain curled into crawling tendrils of pleasure sticking to your insides and climbing your nerves. They overload your senses so much with burning bliss that your arms give out and your cheek slams hard into the dirt beneath you. It would hurt, if you weren’t so overwhelmed by sensations elsewhere.

He fucks his second orgasm through your third, gripping your hips and driving his cock so far into you that your vision starts darkening.

“Remus!” You sob, injecting your cry with as much of the pleasure coursing through your veins as possible, shouting out to the night that he’s responsible for your undoing. You slump tired and spent onto the dirt below you but Remus is still fucking out his own orgasm, dick twitching and shooting loads of cum into your gaping cunt.

He only slows when his cock starts going numb from the friction of your hot cunt, and he pants against the back of your neck while slathering the skin there in an array of sloppy, messy kisses. Finally he drops, landing on his side in the dirt and staring at your fucked-out face

“Oh, dove,” He pants, chest heaving harder than yours had been after being chased, “Fuck, you were- hnngh, are you okay?”

He watches your eyes drift shut, unconsciousness tugging hard at your mind. Your body is so overstimulated that it shuts down, and you nod weakly, “Mhm, jus’- jus’ tired, Rem.”

“Yeah,” He chuckles weakly, eyes marginally less dark than when he’d hunted you through the woods. Now he knocks his nose into your own, something so similar to a wolfish display of affection that you’re surprised he hasn’t sprouted fur.

“Catch me,” You beg, feeling your knees close to giving out, skin creased by the outlines of leaves and dirt, “Catch me, Rem, please-”

“I’ve got’cha,” He soothes, throwing an arm around your middle to tug you into his side. You’re covered in sweat, and your arms and shins are lined with muck from the forest floor, but Remus takes care to keep your cunt, slick and oozing with his cum, away from any contaminents.

“I’ve got’cha,” He repeats, humming into the crown of your head. You can’t seem to get enough air in, but with each inhale of oxygen that you gulp down with your head against his chest, you find it easier to slip away into the void that’s beckoning you behind your eyes.

“Rest,” He pants, holding your head to his chest, mouth open as he breathes towards the sky. His skin is sweaty, but so is yours, and your eyes fall resolutely shut at his command.

When you wake you’re back at home, tucked neatly and carefully into your own bed, under your own blankets. Your entire body is sore, everything from your cunt to your back to your knees, and you find yourself incapable of moving due to the ache below your belly.

“Remus?” You call, your voice floating weakly through the walls of your cottage. You’re pleased to find that you’ve been cleaned up, there’s no dirt left caked into your skin.

All’s clean but your cunt, still packed tight and oozing with Remus’s release. Apparently he’d taken extra care not to waste any of that.

“Here,” Remus emerges from the other room, a towel around his neck, a tank top over his chest, and a bulge in his boxers. He’s sweating profusely, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d crawled into the oven.

“What- what are you doing?” You squint blearily up at him, watching as he raises one end of the towel to wipe at his dripping forehead.

“Working out,” He huffs, grating the towel against his skin, “It’s insane, dove. Jus’ can’t sit still. Prongs really fucked me up with this potion shit, I’ll have to tell him to tone it down.”

“No!’ You speak before you can think, face flushing hot afterwards, as if you’re not residually warm enough.

“Hm?” Remus pants, staring curiously at you as he rubs sweat from his shaggy hair.

“Um,” You flounder, feeling the sticky remnants of Remus’s cum still gooey inside your cunt, “I like it. This- this potion thing. This was… good.”

Remus cracks a smirk, stalking towards the bed with heavy steps, “Yeah? You liked runnin’ from the big bad wolf?”

“Remus!” You whine at his teasing, squirming away when he grips your jaw. He turns your face towards him, and the tight hold of his fingers on your jaw makes you whimper into the kiss he presses to your mouth.

“I’ll tell ‘im,” Remus grunts, lips wet where they stick to your own, “That m’girlfriend,” He licks a stripe up your tongue, panting as he tastes you, “Likes gettin’ hunted. ‘S that it, love? Y’cunt get all wet when you were runnin’ from me?”

“Yes,” You whimper, licking desperately at his mouth as he tongues you, “Remus, I- I need more, please?”

“Ah,” He tuts, pulling away but keeping your jaw firmly in his grip, “No. Not yet, dove.”

“But-!”

“I’ll tear you apart,” Remus warns, eyes flashing dark again, “You’re tired, and you need to rest. You can’t take any more. Later, I promise.”

“No, I can take it, please! I can,” You beg, going so far as to paw at the waistband of his boxers, “Please Remus!”

“Enough.” He snaps, releasing your jaw and backing away. The tent in his boxers is obvious, but he knows you’re too weak to get fucked again.

“‘S for your own good,” He tells you, wiping away a tear that beads at the corner of your eye, “But I’ll make you a deal, dove. I’m gonna go finish my workout. By the time I’m done, if you’ve finished that whole glass,” He motions to your nightstand, and you turn to see a cup of water there, ice cold, “Then I’ll fuck you again. ‘Kay?”

“Okay,” You nod vigorously, excitement already twisting your stomach, “Okay, Remus, I- thank you.”

“Mhm,” He kisses you one last time, teasingly chaste where your tongue chases after his own. Before he straightens up fully he leans in to speak beside your ear, and his gruff, dangerous murmur curls arousal around your spine like a spring coiled tight, waiting to fly, “And don’t even think about touching yourself, dove. I’ll smell it if you do.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

1K notes · View notes

sleepinthrumyalarms · 1 year

Text

— old dog, new tricks

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!werewolf!reader

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, slight petplay, deragadation, topping from the bottom, strapon referred to as cock, wednesday is STILL a sadist, all characters are aged-up

summary: the control wednesday has over you is frustrating. you're put back in your place the second you try to rebel

word count: 2.5k

“So yeah, since the Furs are gonna be the ones hosting the party, every wolf gets to bring a plus one. There’d be enough of us as it is, we should keep it low. The last time they held a gathering, it ended up... badly,” Enid refrains from going into details, which most likely involved a lot of destroyed furniture and saliva, clearing her throat as she slurps on her orange juice, leaning forward in her seat to gauge your reaction, “It’s free alcohol though! Courtesy of the Scales, so we have to let them in, too.”

Wednesday is sitting next to you, her hands clasped together on her knees, the plate in front of her already clean by the end of the lunch break. Her face is unreadable – but you grin, the thought of having drinks in a nice company of fellow werewolves providing a surge of enthusiasm to finish the school day.

“Sure– “

“I’m afraid we won’t be able to join you, Enid. (Y/n) and I have business for tonight.”

The toothpick you clench in your mouth almost snaps in half.

Enid raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of you, but nods, seeming to take Wednesday’s words as final. It vexes you even further.

The ravenette doesn’t let you say another word. She dabs at her lips with a tissue, caringly grabs both of your trays and walks off. The werewolf’s sky-blue eyes meet yours – she looks like she wants to say something, but the irk in your gaze serves as a good enough warning, and she keeps her mouth shut.

A sigh mixed with an exasperated groan leaves your mouth, and you get up to follow your girlfriend, now staring holes into the back of her head instead.

Recess is over, and with it goes your faux relaxed attitude – you sit with your arms crossed, your knee jumping in an annoyed tick as you stare unblinking at your biology book, almost burning through the paper with your glare. Ajax, who’s unfortunate enough to have to share a desk with you, cowers at the angry aura you induce, the snakes of his hair peeking from under his beanie cautiously.

When your last period ends, you pack your bag hastily and throw it over your shoulder before all but storming out of the class. As you walk through the corridor, you notice Xavier out of the corner of your eye, the brunet artist falling in step with you. When he absentmindedly asks if you’re coming to the party tonight, it takes you all of your willpower not to punch him in the jaw.

The door is slammed behind you as you enter your dorm, your nostrils flaring.

You’re mad. And now that the party is totally out of the question, you need a different way to let out steam.

You don’t waste your time undressing yourself, opting to change for something easy to dispose of and claw into, before you reach for the nightstand, opening the bottom drawer.

The toy inside holds a lot of rather pleasant memories – of Wednesday bending you over the balcony railing, of her driving her hips into you as you all but begged her to fuck you right on the floor of your dorm.

Well. Werewolf heats are known for their feverous intensity. Howling isn’t the only reason one should wear muffled headphones with wolves around.

You grab the silicone toy, quickly tightening the straps around your waist, which surprisingly comes rather natural and makes you wonder why the hell you haven’t thought of doing this before, then tug on a pair of grey sweatpants over the strap-on, glancing at the clock – you still have a few minutes before Wednesday comes back.

You give yourself a once-over in the mirror. The shirt’s neckline is hanging just above your breasts, exposing your collarbones, your hair is disheveled with all the exasperated running your fingers through it you’ve been doing, and the outline of the silicone cock is pretty much visible through your pants. Exactly what you were going for.

The faint sound of footsteps reaches your sensitive ears, and it’s a pattern you recognize easily by now – you step away from the mirror to sit back on the bed just in time with the door creaking open.

“Business?” You mutter instead of a greeting. “I didn’t know we had plans.”

Wednesday freezes in the doorway, eyeing you. Her gaze drops to your pants, and a small, barely noticeable smirk makes its way to her pretty plump lips before its gone like it was a mirage.

“Why, don’t you just sound so eager to spend time with your significant other,” the ravenette deadpans sarcastically, walking over to her desk to abandon her backpack there, her lithe fingers working to undo the buttons of her uniform blazer – slowly, deliberately, the same way she drags her words out as she speaks, completely unbothered, “Would you really rather prefer a... frat party with a bunch of uncivilized mutts?”

She turns to look at you, misty eyes shining with a challenging glint.

“Addictions run in the family. Along with my last name I happen to bear a habit of drinking my stress away,” the mattress creaks in protest as you get up, step closer to Wednesday so that you’re towering over her smaller frame, “That, and valuing my freedom and independency.”

Wednesday doesn’t look intimidated in the least. She looks up at you, her eyebrows raised slightly, “But I can’t really help it. You’ve always been like this – so pliant and submissive,” the girl takes her blazer off, draping it over the back of her chair, never breaking eye contact with you, “It’s just so... entertaining to order you around sometimes, knowing you’d follow every single one of my commands.”

You grit your teeth at her words, partially from irritation, partially because they’re true – Wednesday has had you wrapped around her finger from the first day you met her, and it was a given you’d be so smitten to submit to her every whim. The ravenette’s influence on you is omnipotent.

And now, you’re not sure where it’s coming from, but there’s hot, rebellious fire burning in your chest, and the young woman in front of you is the spark responsible.

“I’m not a dog.”

“Oh? Is my perception wrong, then?”

Wednesday steps closer, her chin raised slightly, and before you know it you’re backing down to your shared bed, the backs of your knees hitting the wooden frame.

“Am I wrong? You’re not my pet, then?” She asks again, “Can you prove it? Can you make me shut up and take it?”

Suddenly you remember what your original plan was supposed to be. You mentally facepalm yourself – Wednesday’s been in the room for less than five minutes, yet you already feel the remains of your pride and resolve crumbling apart and proving her right.

Frustrated, your grasp at her hips, your talons coming out at your exasperation, tearing into her skirt, and turn the small girl around, pressing your mouth to hers hotly.

In a few moments you’re a mess of tangled limbs on the bed, Wednesday’s hands sliding towards the waistband of your pants to slide them down, the cool silicone of the toy pressing against her clothed cunt.

You pull back slightly, hovering over her, your claws catching at the lace of her panties, and it takes you a minute to tear them away – your hands are practically shaking with anger and anticipation. You don’t bother with the skirt, flipping it away for easy access, and Wednesday parts her thighs gently, your gaze subconsciously trailing down to the supple pale skin of her lower body.

Jesus, you want to bruise it so badly.

But no. Not now.

Focus. Focus.

Your hands grab ahold of the plushy flesh, fingers digging in as you part her legs even further, and Wednesday lets out a small sound at the aggressiveness. You’d grin at the small victory of yours, but it’s not really worthy yet – her expression is still unfazed, and you know you’ll have to try harder than that.

Or maybe not, you think as you suppress a chuckle at how positively drenched Wednesday is – of course, you could smell it before you could see the pretty wetness covering the inside of her thighs, and you’re damn sure she knows it, too, judging by the way her jaw tightens before she speaks.

“Do not gloat, dog. That is not your doing.”

Okay, that. That actually makes an angry vein pop on your forehead, the thought of someone else getting Wednesday hot and bothered and gorgeously dripping like this is akin to bothering a hungry animal during its meal.

You align yourself with the beautifully dripping cunt of the small ravenette, pressing your palms into her thighs to keep her still – fuck it, you have to bruise her – and push the tip against the feverish skin, sinking in slowly. You watch her walls wrap around the toy deliciously, the sight almost making you forget the reason for your fury, and an involuntary sigh escapes your mouth as you’re halfway to being sheathed inside Wednesday – the girl herself is silent, except for the wet sound of her pretty pussy taking your fake cock in. You look up to see her watching you with half-lidded eyes. She looks bored.

Her smirk is almost as taunting as her words.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

An irritated huff escapes your nose, fingers digging deeper into her, and in a single sharp thrust you bottom out, your legs pressing flush against the back of her hips.

Wednesday sighs, finally, eyes fluttering shut as all the air is pushed out of her lungs. You wrap your hands around the bottom of her thighs to pull her in as close as possible, and this time you actually grin as the ravenette has to bite back another choked noise, hanging her head back on the pillow and taking a deep inhale.

Then she opens her eyes, meeting yours again. Irritation paints her face at your smug expression.

“Are you getting cocky now, (Y/n)? It was but a mediocre start,” she tuts. “I thought you were going to show me how good you can make me take it. How strong you are.”

Her manicured hand caresses up your bicep, scratching idly.

“Alas, the only thing that’s giving me pleasure right now is telling you you’re not good enough.”

All the thoughts of being gentle and sweet with Wednesday are slapped out of your mind as soon as her words register in your already pussy-drunk brain. With a nearly animalistic snarl you pull out so that the head is barely visible before driving back in, the silicone sinking between her lips, disappearing in a red-hot embrace as you immediately fall into a swift rhythm. Your abdominal muscles contract violently, screaming at you that the pace is too much. Too fast. Too hard.

But you don’t care. You want Wednesday to scream those things.

The ravenette stretches one of her long shapely legs to rest it on your shoulder, the angle pulling you deeper into her with each thrust. You grunt, turn your face to nibble at her ankle through the stocking, making Wednesday shudder.

“You look... angry.” She observes, her words a bit broken, breath stolen by your merciless pounding into her. “Are you angry with me, puppy?”

You growl in response. Her palms reach to cup your face, a condescending smile on her lips.

“For teasing you? Oh, don’t be angry. It is simply the natural way of things. Whatever you do, you will always belong underneath me. Taking me like a good girl. Pretty puppy always wants to be my good girl, doesn’t she?”

You whine, and Wednesday chuckles, satisfied that her words are causing the effect she desired – you melt despite the fact that you’re the one fucking her into the bed, ruining the mattress with how much of her slick is dripping down between your bodies.

“You’re so lucky that I’m letting you do this,” her voice is breathy, and your attention snaps to the way is sounds rather than the words she speaks, “Look at me and say it— Don’t you dare scowl at me.”

Wednesday scolds your bared canines and your furrowed eyebrows, the hold of her palms turning rough on your chin.

“Say thank you. For my letting you be in my cunt right now.”

Her tone sends an array of shivers down your spine – you feel reminded of where your place is supposed to be. It takes some time for you to finally find your voice, your mouth slightly open as you still your hips for a moment, cock buried in Wednesday’s soft heat.

She watches you expectantly. You lean down to press your nose into her shoulder.

“Th... thank you...” You murmur into her neck shakily, hiding your face in embarrassment.

You’ve lost.

The ravenette hums, wraps her legs around you, a gesture of pity and generosity on her part – she knows how much you love it when she does that, the balls of her stocking-clad feet pressing into your back.

“You’re welcome, puppy. Now get back to work.”

Your pace turns slow, meaningful, and Wednesday seems content with the change, her back arching at a particularly strong and deep thrust of your hips, pretty mouth falling open with a breathy sigh, “Oh, mia grande forte cucciola… Trying so hard to make me feel good…”

Her walls flutter around the shaft, her heavy breathing mixing with the obscene sounds of your skin slapping hers.

“Should I cum on you? Should I let you have it just this once?”

At that you perk up, and if you were wolfed out at that moment, you’re pretty sure your tail would be wagging like crazy as you whine a few pathetic ‘please, please’ into her neck.

“I will. I will, amore. But not because of you fucking me so good… Just because I pity you.”

Wednesday brings you closer to her, your chest flush against hers as she tilts her head back, her pussy turning impossibly tight around your cock, a choked moan leaving her burgundy lips, right into your ear, making goosebumps trickle up your neck. You fuck her through her orgasm obediently, wishing you could feel her throbbing around you.

When Wednesday’s hold on you relaxes, your jaw goes slack around her shoulder, her ruined uniform the last thing on your mind as you try to catch your breath.

She sighs with content, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone.

“Good dog.”

There’s no strength left in you to fight the title, so you accept your defeat, leaning most of your body weight onto the small girl and muttering something unintelligible.

“Pull out.” She orders, and you comply, watching as her slick drips down the toy, before the ravenette pushes you back onto the bed, her thighs bracketing your hips. Her warmth against you makes you shudder.

“Now,” her hands reach for the straps, undoing them with masterful precision, “I’m going to reclaim what’s mine.”

The toy is tugged down your legs, and Wednesday licks her lips.

“I hope the ache you’ll feel with every step you take tomorrow reminds you of who you belong to, puppy.”

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x reader smut #wednesday addams smut #wednesday x reader #wednesday x reader smut #wednesday smut #wednesday imagine #wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams

1K notes · View notes

1800jjbarnes · 1 year

Text

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : You and Bucky have a huge fight just before your heat starts. Now you have to choose; lose the argument and apologise or be a brat and see what happens.

『Word count』 : 2.05k

Paring: Alpha!Wolf!Bucky x Bunny!Hybrid!Reader

[Warnings] : Objectification. Swearing. Hate sex. Spanking. Using a belt to tie the reader up. Fingering, dirty talk. Pet name. Use of the words slut, whore and bitch. Heavy degradation. Choking. Crying kink. Little cum eating. Lots of body fluids. Pussy slapping. Big dick Bucky. Angst. Angry Bucky. Fighting. Some fluff at the end, I guess.

✦ The ALPHA AND BUNNY Universe ✦ -> [Click Here]

Masterlist | Navigation

Frustration brewed in Bucky as he paced the halls of the pack grounds. He didn’t mean what he said to you. But his pride refused to let him apologise first. Yes, you were both in the wrong, and you both were well aware of that. But the heated argument didn’t stop until you walked out of the room. Storming to your shared living quarters without him. He stays in the main hall for a while. Keeping his distance from anyone. And if anyone dared to speak to their angry leader, he would growl in a tone that scared anyone's wolf away.

It had only been a couple of hours. Four? Five? Heck, it was probably going on six at this point. His wolf was howling, begging for him to just give up this silent no-talking game that you and Bucky had started. But no, he needed you to apologize first. So, after finally stopping his frustrated pacing, he went to his study to try and get work done in order to distract himself. It worked for maybe five minutes before he threw some papers—that were most likely important— on the floor.

Fuck it. He thought, getting up to make a quick stride over to his living quarters but when he aggressively opened his study room door he is suddenly met with a sight he didn’t know he was going to witness for another week.

“B-Buck...” It was you. Carrying a sad pout and clenched thighs. He could smell your arousal leaking out of you. Your eyes were already glossed over and full of desperation. Through the fight, he completely misread the date, forgetting your heat was approaching. It took every fibre in his being not to pounce on you then and there. God, you smelt amazing.

“Come to apologize, I see.” His cockiness grew, knowing you would have to apologize now, and then you can both just forget about the silly fight. But little did he know you weren't going to give up that easily either. Even if you were on your heat and desperately craved him. Two can play the game, and by swearing to the moon goddess herself, you were going to try everything in order to win. Even if that means you make him even madder than he already is.

“No. It's you who should apologize.” You bit at him, while his hands snaked around your waist, pulling you inside the room before closing the door with your body. He had you pinned. Unable to move. Just how he liked it. His cocky smile stayed plastered on his face, tilting his head slightly he whispered against your neck.

“Hmm from what I can remember, it is you who started this. And besides, it seems you have a problem only I can fix. So I think you better start begging for forgiveness.” His hot breath tickled your skin. He was teasing your body, wanting to bend you. Break you. But you pushed him away slightly, showing fire burning in your eyes.

“I swear to fucking god James if you don’t do something, I will go to your fucking beta and ask him to fuck me.” you pulled him by his collar so your lips could graze his ear while his cocky expression slowly turned into one of anger. “I’m sure as hell he would be more than happy to oblige and make me cum.”

Oh, that sent him over the edge. His vision turned red as he gripped your waist before lifting you up over his shoulder. His hand landed a harsh smack on your ass sending a shiver down your spine. Your heat surge threw you like a sweetened pain, making you grip the hem of Bucky's shirt. You tug it up seeing his toned back with your upside-down view. It didn’t take long for your lover to make it to your bedroom, practically throwing you. You land on the soft comforter on your bed, pushing your face against the fluffy duvet as you watch Bucky with hooded eyes. All your anger and frustration was gone, and suddenly, the only thing you cared for was to have him in any way, shape, or form.

“Buckyy…” you groan, wanting him near you. He watched you with a smirk like he was enjoying your struggle. The tilt of his head proved just that, bending down to grab your chin, pulling you towards him. You thought he was still mad, unaffected by your heat. And you were partly right. He was still angry about what happened, but his mind was slowly losing control the more and more he took in your scent. He had always been caring and sweet in and out of the bedroom. He never wanted to hurt you in any way. But now. Now he saw raw anger-fueled lust, and he needed to release the emotions, and your body seemed to be the perfect toy for it.

“You know that I respect you, right?” He whispers in a softer tone than before, almost as if he held perfect composure. His fingers that gripped your chin moved to squish your cheeks together. Your lips pouted from the action, making you look pathetic to him.

“Yes,” you tried to speak, but his grip was tight. Your hips wiggled in anticipation, seeing his free hand reach for his belt, undoing it with ease.

“Because I’m about to fuck you with nothing but disrespect.”

Your hands were tied with the very belt he wore. Your naked form was on display just for him while he was still in his dress pants. You wanted to see all of him, have all of him. But you knew you shouldn’t dare ask for more. His fingers were sitting deep inside you, fucking you through yet another orgasm. You were so desperate for more, but you also begged for him to stop. But he didn’t listen. Your sweet scent, rich cherry with hints of vanilla, is infused in his veins and lingers on his skin like a tattoo. Those soft, whimpery sounds you make when his fingers are inside you are most alluring as the way your eyes glazed over, rolling back when he finds an especially good spot. It’s almost as irresistible as the way you would cling to him, clawing his back when it all becomes too much for your body to handle while he fucks you hard.

He’s so greedy for all of it. He can’t get enough of you. No matter how much you give, he wants more, wants to give you more of himself in return.

And it’s all your fault.

“You dirty fucking slut. Wanting another man to please you when you know for a fact I'm the only one who can make this pussy come.” He growled, leaning over your thrashing body, licking your mate mark, and taking in your scent. You didn’t even try and make a snarky comeback, just moaning out a choked please over and over like a broken record instead.

“Who knew my precious baby liked to be fucked like a whore.” He smirks feeling you clench around his fingers “You want that Doll? Want me to use this body as a toy? Fill it up with my cum for my own pleasure?”

“Yes Yes Yes Please! Fuck James!!” You screamed, cumming for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Tears ran down, staining your cheeks. Your lips were puffy and red, swollen from the makeout. God, you were so beautiful in this moment. He wished he could print this image in his mind forever. He pulled his fingers out from your leaking hole, seeing your cum spill on the bed. He had to chuckle at how many times he made you cum just with his fingers.

“Pathetic.” He taped your lips with his cum soaked fingers, wanting you to take them in your mouth. You obeyed the silent command, sucking your release off while he uses his free hand to unbuckle his pants so he could be free of them.

“Turn around now. And I swear to god, if you try and run, I’ll tie you back down and leave you here with a vibrator connected to you. Understand.” He spat out, growling in his alpha voice, making your wolf howl in a plea. You nodded but he wanted words, so he slapped your pussy, making you jump at the shock. “Words. Bitch.”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?” He reached for the belt, waiting for your response before he opened the clasp.

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Good Girl.” The clasp clicks, freeing your red and soon-to-be bruised wrists. You take no second chances, turning around, lifting your ass in the air for him to see you in full display. He stood at the end of the bed with a smirk plastered on his face. You were presenting yourself just for him.

Bucky could barely stand any more brief seconds his cock was not in your warm, tight pussy, immediately getting on the bed before rolling his hips to get deep inside you with one swift motion. There’s no way he’s stopping now, he can’t stop, not until he’s gotten orgasm after orgasm after orgasm out of you, like before.

He drops his weight on top of you and his sweet scent, smoked Maple, and spiced citrus drifts around you in hazy waves. You could get high off his smell alone. Teeth graze your bonding mark, the wide pad of his thumb finds your aching clit, ruthlessly circling it, sensations skitter across your skin and he grinds into you, your pussy stretched tight around his thick cock, the veiny ridges sliding against your velvety walls, leaving you so full you don’t know if you want to push him out and beg for a reprieve or clench down and beg for more.

“Cum for me? There you go, give it to me. My dirty little slut,” he grunts, “Gonna fill your tight little pussy again and again and then I’m gonna shove every drop of my cum back inside you, gonna keep you. Yeah, that’s it, fuck—such a good baby, giving me what I need, so fucking tight and warm and soft, fuck fuck I can't-,”

He breaks off, losing control for a moment. The frustration finally started to wash away. His metal hand, retches upwards, snaking around your throat in order to pull you up along with his body. But his grip tightens, making your head spin in pure pleasure. You clenched around him from his actions, letting him know you enjoy the feeling just as he enjoys the feeling of his fingers wrapped perfectly around your fragile neck. His filthy words had pushed you to the brink, blinding hot sensations flowing through your veins but it’s the way he loses control, his words slurring together, his pace quickening, becoming erratic and sloppy, thrust after deep, smooth thrust that set off your orgasm.

An indescribable noise escaped your slacked mouth, your vision blurring, and your body tensing as Bucky fucks you through. His moans stream in your ear, pushing you higher and higher until you break with a quiet sob, falling back to the sheets, pliant and sated when he finally lets your neck go. Bucky is quick to follow, chasing his own high as soon as he felt your orgasms, warmth flooding your body as he cums. His hips jerked once, twice, three times, desperately trying to push it back inside you even as it seeps around his cock.

A moment of silence is finally placed. No more anger. No more wild emotions. Just heavy breathing and fast-pumping hearts. He slid his cock out of you, swiftly turning you around so he could cage your body under him in a tight, warm hug. Was he now the one crying?

“I’m sorry…” He finally said, giving up on the whole fight entirely. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer. Enough for your face to slot against his neck, feeling safe in his arms, surrounded by his scent.

“I’m sorry too…”

2K notes · View notes

fairysluna · 1 year

Text

little wolf.

Cregan's little sister is the only one who can change his mind, which is why Aemond decides to use his charms and convince her to support the Green using some peculiar methods.

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Tags/TW: smut (p in v, loss of virginity, f!oral sex, praise, breeding, kinda innocent!kink), teasing, a bit of mean!aemond, slight dubcon, cregan being an overprotective brother, cursing. if something is missing let me know!!

Author's Note: mimor @tvrgvryen sent me this request a few days ago and I had to do it bc i loved it so much. So here it is!

Word Count: 4.9k

Aemond has always been a good observer. He has always noticed the small details, the reason why people acted as they did, the way people treated others. That's why it wasn't hard for him to realize how important you were for your beloved brother Cregan.

The day he first stepped into Winterfell after Vhagar gracefully landed on the snow, he saw how brave Cregan was for stepping between you and the enormous beast. However, that mere gesture exposed the big affection he had for you; his only sister, and with that, Aemond knew what was Lord Stark's greatest weakness… you.

He went to the North with a mission, a task to fulfill, and he was not a man that was known to give up on things. Aemond was resilient, determined. He would not accept a negative answer from the Warden of the North, and even though he knew about the oath and how Starks are famously known for being loyal to their words; he was eager to find his way to gain the North's support.

And his opportunity came up with you; the sweet, kind Lady Stark. Beloved by all, you were also known as the Heart of Winterfell, for it was said that even the small folk held dear for you. Everything that Aemond heard about you were nothing but good words, showing how much people appreciated you, which only impulsed Aemond's bad intentions.

It is true, a Stark never forgets an oath, but the North gathers when the wolf howls… and even though your brother was the visible face of your House, everyone knew that it was you the one that had true power over the masses; your gentleness made you the Queen of the North, and that information was enough for Aemond to start his devious schemes.

It all started at the training yard. The snow had fallen earlier in the morning, covering the ground with a thick layer of snow. He was staring at you as you struggled with a bow and arrow, not being able to hit the bullseye. This would only make you groan with impatience, despair even. Aemond pressed his lips and looked down at his shoes, trying to show himself amused by you wrestling.

"You're too tense, my lady," he said as he slowly walked towards you.

His black fur coat covering his slim shape, his white hair perfectly still despite the crazy wind, his hands at the back of his body. He looked so effortlessly elegant, it almost made you blush.

"My prince," you greeted him, bowing swiftly, "I'm sorry you have to watch this terrible attempt."

"I didn't know women were allowed to train here in the North," he spoke, politely as he stretched his arm to touch the fine wood of the bow you were holding.

"We're not," you replied, "but my brother insists I should be prepared to defend myself, so he forces me to train either way."

"Mhm…" he nodded, "your brother is a clever man. A beauty like yours is the target of many deprived men, he's doing well by letting you learn how to protect yourself."

"But he barely has time to teach me," you complained, placing your arms in position to shoot again, "now he's in a meeting with the Mormonts, and I am here," you let the arrow go, but it didn't even hit the target. "...failing miserably."

Aemond chuckled, and you inevitably blushed at the low sound that came out of him. You stared at him from your peripheral view, analyzing his undeniable beauty and flirtatious smirk which made your heart beat a little too fast.

"You're too tense," he repeated, as he shifted his position until he was behind you.

His hands went to your shoulders, and he squeezed them softly giving you a soft and short massage that made you close your eyes. Soon, one of his hands reached yours, the one that was holding the bow's grip. He wrapped it around yours, and you immediately felt his warmth on your cold skin. It made you gasp silently.

"You see, I'm not so good at using a bow, I think my weapon of choice is the sword," he whispered, getting closer to your ear, his breath smacking against your shivering skin, "but I know things… and I can teach you if you please, my lady."

His nose rubbed against your hair, and your delicious smell almost made him groan. Soon, the prince helped you to fix your position as your breathing was getting heavier and an unknown feeling was installed in your lower belly. You feel the heat even though it was freezing cold, you felt his body pressing against yours leaving a sensation of distress, as if your body was begging you for something.

You feared of someone seeing you; the position was quite compromising, and you were certain your reputation would be stained if someone witnessed such a scandalous scene. It felt too intimate for you, perhaps not so proper for a maiden like you. You would have tried to push him away, but there was something within him that did not allow you to do so; it was as if he had bewitched you with his charms, and you were under a spell from which you were not able to wake up.

"It's simple, my lady," he explained, "you must relax, you must let go," his voice so deep and low against your ear, "come on, no one's watching, you're under no pressure…"

His touch, so delicate and gentle, mixed with his words, which you quickly misinterpreted; 'no one's watching', it sounded more like an invitation rather than words of comfort. You couldn't help but to sigh, a gesture that brought a slight smirk upon Aemond's face.

"Let yourself go, Lady Stark," his voice turned more breathy, rapier. "That's it, so good… now, eyes on the target, don't take your eyes off of it, okay?"

You simply nodded, wildly blushing at his praise. There was a subtle shiver that went to your trembling hands, you cleared your throat trying to play it down.

"Take deep breaths, don't close your eyes," his hands left yours, now going to your abdomen, his nose brushing against your ear as he kept whispering, "good, good girl."

Your teeth captured your lower lip as you held back a whimper. Squirming in your place, you felt weak on the knees as his hands left a squeeze on your hips.

"Now… shoot."

You listened, and your hand let go of the string. Your eyes widened with surprise as the arrow hit close to the bullseye, which was certainly not perfect, but it was an improvement. A smile appeared in your face as you tilted your head to appreciate your achievement, and soon a giggle escaped you.

"Oh, Gods…" you sighed, "I did it."

"You did it," Aemond said, "you did so well."

His words made your face turn to face him, and his lips were just a few inches away from yours. Your breath hitched, as your heart pounded with so much strength that you thought he would be able to hear it… even feel it. His hand traveled upwards your body until it reached the nape of your neck.

For a moment you thought he would kiss you, that his soft-looking lips would dare to touch yours. But suddenly, he pulled away. Few seconds later, footsteps were heard dragging the snow beneath their feet, and soon you found out the reason behind his abrupt reaction.

"Sister!" you heard. The deep and roaring voice of your brother woke you up from your trance, and you turned around to face him.

You saw a frown upon his face as his eyes narrowed. For a moment you thought he saw how close you were with Aemond, but soon his own words proved you wrong.

"Septa has been waiting for you for an hour!" he scolded you, "why are you still here?"

It took you a while to speak, you knew your voice would come out weak and thin if you dared to utter a word in that moment, which not only would make Cregan be suspicious of what happened, but also would embarrass you in front of the charming prince.

Luckily for you, Aemond decided to step in.

"I was helping her train, my lord, I'm sorry for the disruption I might have caused," you looked down at the steps Aemond had left in the snow, right beside yours.

You were quick and subtle once you purposely stepped on them to erase them. Aemond noticed and he couldn't help but smirk.

"Well, stop your training and go," he demanded, "you might continue tomorrow."

You had no choice but to obey. One last glance was given to Aemond as you bowed to him, saying goodbye. Cregan followed your frame as you entered the castle, and then he turned to look at the prince. Aemond was no fool, he knew Cregan was not ignorant of his intention… he was a man after all, he could see through his facade with no big effort.

However, he did not say anything about it. He just nodded, and then he left leaving Aemond standing alone with the burning desire running down his body.

At first, he planned on just seducing you… but now? Now he will have you. He needed to have you.

That same day, quite late at night, you were found in your chambers, laying on your belly on top of the fur carpet right in front of the warmth of the fireplace. A book was between your hands as your eyes followed the traces of the poetic words that were written in it. The sound of the fire crackling and burning the wood was the only thing you were able to hear until three soft knocks interrupted the quiet calmness of the night.

You barely looked up as you muttered a soft 'come in', turning the page to continue with your reading. The door was opened in a subtle movement that you barely noticed, and soon you heard steps getting close to you.

It wasn't until you were able to see the shoes of that person that you decided to look up, only to find Aemond's grin staring back at you. You immediately sat up, crossing your legs and trying to cover your breasts with the book; the fabric of your nightgown was thin, and you knew that your skin could usually be seen through it if he dared to squint to take a look.

Your body hasn't forgotten about his touch and closeness, and in a certain way it was actually craving for more of that. But you knew it was not proper, you've heard whispers around the castle claiming that he was actually betrothed to one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, meaning he already belonged to someone else.

And yet, you couldn't help but to feel the eagerness to touch him.

"My Prince," you said, the shock of seeing him there, sitting on the carpet right beside you was shown in your voice, "what- what are you doing here?"

"I found myself alone and bored in my chambers, so I decided to wander around the castle and the path brought me here… to you," he smiled kindly as he said those last two words. Words that made your heart beat faster and your cheeks turn red, "were you reading?" He asked, pointing at the book that was covering your pebbled nipples.

"Uh… yes," you nodded, shyly, "it's a book about poetry."

"Poetry?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, "Mind if I have a look, little wolf?"

You couldn't help but to wildly blush with the pet name, feeling butterflies inside your belly as you pulled the book out of your chest and left it in his hands. Aemond's eyes inevitably went to see your soft breasts covered by a thin white layer of silky fabric, breathing deep and harsh as he felt his cock twitch inside his pants once he managed to see your nipples through it.

He remained calm, even when the only thing he wanted was to rip that gown out of your body and take you right there. Instead, he just sighed as his fingers elegantly turned the pages, reading some extract of the love poems in the book.

"I see you're a romantic person, my Lady," he commented, without taking his eyes off of the pages, "do you consider yourself a fan of the genre?"

"It's something that I enjoy reading, yes," you nodded.

"I had the impression," he confessed, closing the book and leaving it aside, "have you ever been in love?"

You shook your head, "I don't- I don't think so."

"Mhm…" he sighed, "that’s odd, you're a gorgeous lady, one might have thought you had a lot of suitors waiting for you."

"You're too kind," you said, looking retrained for a few seconds.

"I'm just stating the facts, little wolf," he spoke softly, "It seems like your brother likes to scare them away."

"Them?" You asked confused.

"Your suitors," he clarified, "that's the only reasonable explanation of why you are not married yet."

"He just wants the best for me," you defended him.

"And what would that be?"

"A husband who not only sees me as a womb with legs, but also as something precious, something worthy of love and care," your dreamy voice made Aemond smirk, the naiveness in you amused him in so many ways.

"You're asking for too much in a society like this, don't you think?"

You shrugged, "a girl can only dream."

The prince nodded, "and a man can only fulfill those dreams, am I right?" You remained silent, avoiding his heavy and penetrative stare at all cost, "have you ever been this close to a man before?"

"No…"

"I could tell," he chuckled, a sound that buzzed into your ears and made your mind go fuzzy, "you were quite nervous when I helped you with your bow this morning."

"I don't feel very comfortable with the proximity of men…" you confessed.

"Of all men, or just of me?"

That's when you realized where this was going, and the panic quickly installed in your gut as you swallowed hard. It took you some time, but you finally noticed his true intentions. You knew you had to stop him before things went further.

"My prince, I'm not quite sure what you mean by those words," you started to stand up, tumbling in your knees, "but it's late and it wouldn't be proper for you to be seen in my chambers, so please-"

Your words were interrupted by the sudden action of Aemond, who pulled you closer until you stranded him, your legs at each side of his body as he forced you to sit on his lap, his hands pressed in your hips firmly, not allowing you to escape from his strong grip.

"I think you know what I mean, my lady…" he whispered, leaning closer to your ear only to mutter with his seductive and raspy voice, "I think you can feel it."

Your breath hitched in your throat at the same time you tried to speak, "I- I don't know…"

"Tell me what you felt when I touched you this morning," he commanded, his hands lowering to your thighs, starting to lift the thin fabric of your gown, "was it similar to what you're feeling right now?"

"I… I don't-"

"I sensed your nervousness when I said how good of a girl you are," he chuckled, starting to breathe in your neck, smelling your sweet scent, "does that arouse you, little wolf? Being praised?"

"Prince Aemond, this is not proper, please-" you tried to pull away, but his grip pushed you down once again. Now you were able to feel his hard-on pressing right down your core, which sent you a sensation that caused chills down your spine.

"That's not what I'm asking you," he spoke sternly, massaging your thighs, squeezing them every now and then, "Mhm… my sweet little wolf, you're shaking. Are you nervous now? You don't have to be, I won't hurt you."

"I told you I do not enjoy this," you breathed out, feeling his hands reaching your hips underneath your gown.

"So you're telling me that if I dare to touch between your legs… I would not find your cunt drenching for me?"

His words made you squirm, the blush running to your cheeks as his thumb started to caress your mons pubis. Your body tensed as you widened your eyes, feeling his finger pressing down.

“I- I don’t- my Prince, please stop-” a small moan interrupted your words as he found your clit between your folds. His thumb rubbing it slowly as you closed your eyes; embarrassed that he was touching such a private part of your body.

“Have you ever been kissed, my lady?” He asked, trying to hold back a groan as he felt your slick coating his digit, “Has someone been lucky enough to be the first to claim your beautiful lips?”

You shook your head, Aemond hummed with delight.

“Then I guess I’ll be the first…”

You barely were able to process his words when he pressed his soft lips against yours. Slow movements that were easy for you to follow without much struggle as you held back whimpers of pleasure, for his thumb was still torturing your pearl in a slow and gentle manner.

Your hand fell on his chest, not with the intention of pushing him away. You grasp his thin blouse, catching the fabric between your trembling hands as you felt the tip of his tongue starting to tease your lips. Hesitantly, your lips parted just a few inches, enough to give him space for him to claim your mouth; swirling his tongue against yours as you tried to keep up with his slow and tempting actions.

He was able to taste your inexperience, the way you would doubt your movements before actually doing them was enough proof for him to know that you were not lying; he was the first man to kiss, which now made him more eager to also become the first man to fuck you.

A gasp escaped your swollen lips when, in a sudden movement, he laid your body in the soft carpet, spreading your legs and placing himself between them. Your nightgown was wrinkled around your hips, exposing your glistening folds to him as he kept playing with your now sensitive clit. Soft mewls were heard as he stopped kissing you in order to taste your skin. You felt the wet caresses of his lips in your neck, your jaw, your collarbones, all while your hands were grasping the fur of the carpet beneath you.

His fingers were soon covered in your juices, your hips trying to move against them in an attempt to feel more, but he pulled them away and you widened your eyes once you saw him licking them and humming after he felt your sweet taste against his tongue. Your breath was caught in your throat as you heard him groan.

"My lady, you taste as sweet as you are," he spoke slowly, you blinked a couple times still feeling your mind fuzzy, "do you want a taste?"

You gulped, not entirely sure of what to reply. The words were unable to come out, so all you could was nod.

A careless smile appeared on his face as he left a soft kiss on your cheek, before you realized your legs were on his shoulders and his face buried in your drenching cunt as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure his tongue was providing you.

His slurping was heard, echoing in the room as you tried to push his head away from your pussy, breathing fast and unsteady as he devoured you. You felt his tongue teasing your needy hole as his nose rubbed against your clit, making you moan a bit too loudly. His hands were grabbing your hips tightly, just to make sure you don't escape from him; his fingertips burying in your soft skin as your body writhe under his skilful mouth.

You could feel your own slick slipping down your thigh along with his spit. It was messy, far from being as slow and calm as the kiss he gave you before. He was eager to make you cum; licking, sucking, and fucking your cunt until you were nothing but a moaning mess.

It was over before you even noticed it. With a loud gasp, your eyes rolling and your thighs pressing at each side of Aemond's head, you reached your first orgasm, which finished with you gulping and hiccuping with pleasure. You heard him moaning against your soaking folds, collecting all your slick to then lean over your body.

He took a look at your face, your lips quivering as your cheeks were burning and tinted with a furious red. His fingers reached your chin, and made you open your mouth, which you did without hesitation. His spit fell in your tongue before your glistening eyes closed as you whimpered. You were able to taste yourself in it, the sweetness of your release coating your tongue.

"Swallow it," he commanded, and you quickly obeyed him, "good girl…" he let out a chuckle, and you couldn’t help but to feel an unknown heat running down your body. "See? I told you you were sweet, doesn't it taste good?"

You nodded, sighing.

"So good, so delicious…" he leaned to kiss you again as his hands pulled down your gown, freeing your breasts, "I swear it, my lady, I will not rest until your cunt is mine forever."

His big hands left a soft squeeze on your tits before they went to his pants, untying the lace and pulling them down. His leaking cock was now on your sight, hard and reddish. You barely noticed he took off his shirt as you were too hypnotized seeing that specific part of his body. Aemond immediately noticed your curious eyes, and he teasingly grabbed his cock in his hand only to stroke it a few times before letting it on top of your clit.

"Do you want it, my lady?" He whispered, starting to rub himself on you.

You whined, looking down at the obscene scene of his cock parting your puffy lips.

"Do you want my cock to make you feel good?" He groaned, feeling your slick coating his shaft, "I will give it to you if you ask me… Tell me what you want."

You gulped, trying to pronounce pleas.

"Aemond… I- I want…"

"Tell me, my beautiful lady," he muttered, "tell me what you desire."

"I want you… please… it's hurting, I-"

The head of his cock reached your hole and he slowly started to sink in you. Your eyes widened as a soft cry escaped your throat. Your legs closed as you brought them against your chest, and Aemond groaned in disapproval.

"Come on, darling… keep your legs open for me," he cooed, "I want to see your pretty pussy taking my cock."

He held the back of your knees, keeping your legs folded but spread. His cock was buried in your tight cunt as tears of pain started to fall down your cheeks. A loud cry was heard, louder than all of the others, and Aemond was quick to put his hand on top of your mouth.

"Sh, sh…" he whispered, "It's okay, it'll pass. Just relax, my lady, it will feel so good."

He spreaded you open with one push, your back arched as you struggled to take him. He stayed still for a few seconds before his own lust decided that he could not wait any longer. Your walls were squeezing him deliciously as he started to pound against you, groaning and moaning as the pleasure was taking the best of him.

Grasping on the fur beneath you, you started to sob. Aemond saw the signs of pain in your face and he quickly leaned over you in order to take one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. The feeling that brought you was indescribable, and soon the pain became bearable as his thrusts remained slow but became harder.

Aemond would choke his moans against your tit as his tongue skilfully swirling around it, licking and sucking as he kept fucking you, each thrust going deeper and deeper.

"Fuck…" he sighed, "your pussy is so fucking tight. Made by the Gods just for me."

His words made you drool as the warmth of the fireplace was starting to affect you, making you sweat. His hand left your mouth, now going to play with your swollen and needy clit.

"This little cunt belongs to me now, doesn't it?" he purred against your ear.

"A-Aemond..."

He hummed, "how sweet you sound when you moan my name like that."

"P-please…"

"What is it, my lady?" he teased you, "do you want to cum? Do you want to make a mess on my cock?"

"Y-yes…" you managed to say, choking with your words as he thrusted harder, "Oh, Gods! Yes…"

"That's it, sweet girl…" he praised you, "taking me so well, so good. I'm gonna fill you up, leave you leaking with my cum. Is that what you want?"

"G-Gods… yes, p-please!" you whined.

"Then I guess I have no other choice but to give you what you want…"

A soft chuckle left him as his thrusts became faster. His hips smacking against yours as he gripped your arsecheeks to gain stability. The sound of your slick drenching around his cock echoed in the room as you started to cry out, sobbing with pleasure and begging for more.

Aemond looked at your cunt, and a soft and subtle whine was heard as he saw the way his cock disappeared between your folds. Your pleas would only make him desperate, eager to reach his climax and seeing your abused hole leaking his pearly seed. The image alone was enough to make his cock twitch inside you.

"Fuck, so good… so fucking good," he lifted your hips, pounding restlessly against you as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes as his breathing turned unsteady, "such a perfect pussy, squeezing me so fucking good."

You clenched around him, and that was what sent him over the edge, spilling his big loads of cum inside of you at the same time that your release exploded. Your cries were heard even in the hallway, as the intensity of your orgasm took over your shaky body. The feeling of him stuffing you with his seed sent you a shiver down your spine that made you twitch your hips.

Aemond leaned over you to kiss you, pounding lazily as he was coming down from his orgasm. You receive the sloppy kiss as your eyes were closing by themselves, too worn out to keep them open.

But then, Aemond decided to speak.

"Look at you, sweet girl…" he said with an odd tone that you haven't heard from him until now, "what would your big brother say if he saw you now, huh? Filled with my seed, a mess under my touch."

Your breathing stopped for a second and only then you realized what you did. You opened your eyes only to find a smirk on his face, and your heart dropped.

"You probably will be swollen with my bastard in a few months… then what would the people think of you? The Heart of the North carrying the Prince's bastard child…"

"N-no…" you muttered, starting to softly push his chest.

"Mhm, yes…" he scoffed, "unless I take you as my bride, of course."

A shaky breath came out of your nose as tears of despair fell down your cheeks, your bottom lip quivered as your gleaming eyes looked at his.

"W-would you… would you take me as your wife?"

Aemond smirked, starting to pull out of you. He hummed delighted with the view as he saw the pearly drops leaking out of you. He sighed, putting his pants on and fixing his clothes.

"If your brother decides to join his forces with ours, I will take you as my bride and no one will know this happened before our marriage…" he said, standing up and looking down at you. "But, if he decides to join my sister's army…"

He doesn't even need to finish the sentence for you to know the consequences of that. The panic ran down your body as you sat in the carp carpet, covering your nudity with your nightgown and crying.

"How- how am I supposed to-?"

"Cregan Stark will do anything his little sister commands," he interrupts you, taking a few steps towards you to gently grab your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at him, "so you better choose the right option, my lady."

He left a caress in your cheek with a smug smile on his face. He abandoned your chambers, letting you there feeling helpless and a bit scared.

It wasn't a big surprise for him when a few days later Lord Stark gave him the good news… and Aemond fulfilled his words, marrying you a month after the North joined the war and helped King Aegon II win the final battle against Rhaenyra.

What was a surprise, was the birth of your first child, a month earlier than what the Maesters expected.

2K notes · View notes

emeraldborealis · 4 months

Text

It Will Come Back

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!reader

TW//CW: Angst, dog motif, a flicker of fluff if you squint really hard, no use of y/n. RE6 era Leon.

Words: 1,942

Part two

Don't give strays a warm meal, they'll come back for more. Don't domesticate a wild animal, they bite when you make them nervous. Leon seemed to be a stray you couldn't get rid of. Even when you tried, he'd show up on your doorstep drunk, howling like a mutt for attention. Knowing you'd let him in if he tried long enough, and you couldn't turn away someone in need of love.

He'd leave as quick as he'd come, gone as soon as something became consistent and reassuring.

You couldn't blame him, you knew he worked some highly secret job that was constantly calling him away. But he'd leave even when he wasn't working. You didn't know where he went, you were pretty sure he didn't have his own apartment, considering how much of his stuff he'd snuck into your house over months of coming and going.

Somehow you always knew when it was him at the door, no one else really came over, and never at the hours he'd come.

Getting up from the couch you opened the door, Leon was standing there, leaning against the doorway, his eyes already begging to come inside. "Hey, sweetheart."

"Don't sweetheart me." Despite your words you moved to let him inside, you always did. You let him in as often as he'd come back. You weren't sure you were capable of turning away a wet dog.

He stepped inside, slipping off his shoes, a promise to stay a while, even if he never did. "Don't be mad at me, you know how I am." He begged with those soft blue eyes of his, the ones that looked like gusts of a perfect storm, a warm rain where spots of blue sky were still peeking through the clouds.

And just like that, he was forgiven.

You knew better than to let him in, you both were just waiting for the cycle to stop. But neither of you would put an end to it. Why? Because he was funny, and he was sweet, a dog who bites isn't always bad company. And he'd never stop coming back as long as you kept offering him love, something consistent, and something he could keep safe.

"Whatever." You helped him with his jacket, noticing the way he winced when he moved, did he come just to lick his wounds? "You eaten yet?"

"No, you offering to feed me?" Leon smiled softly at you, moving to wrap his arms around you, you let him, against your better judgment. He was always so warm, and he always had this sweetness to him when he'd first arrive, after he got passed the kicked puppy phase he had this soft innocence sometimes, like the person he once was before all the hell would peek out from within him.

Sometimes he felt more like a wolf, someone hungry and willing to devour you whole, just to keep you as his, keep you away from anything wanting to hurt you.

"I have some leftovers." You leaned into him for a moment, before pulling away to lead him into the kitchen. He followed close on your heel, not quite bold enough to hold your hand as he followed.

Opening your fridge you grabbed the leftovers of your dinner, you were going to take them to work for lunch, but Leon was more important. You could always buy lunch somewhere, maybe convince your favorite coworker to go with you, spot them to convince them so you wouldn't have to go alone.

"You like meatballs with rice?" You ask to fill the silence as you put it on a plate and into the microwave.

"I like your cooking. So yes." He stood right beside you, barely giving you space to move.

"Do you come just for my food? Maybe a warm bed?" Your tone was sharper than you'd meant it to be, making you inwardly cringe, you didn't want to cut.

"Maybe I do." He took it in jest, letting it pass without showing pain. "Maybe I just like you."

"If you really liked me you wouldn't leave so much." You crossed your arms, not meaning to get so defensive so suddenly.

Leon seemed to think for a moment, he didn't want to bite back, not today. Not yet. "You know how I am. Don't let me in if you don't want me to come back." He gently grabbed your wrists, uncrossing your arms to force you to relax with him.

You were about to say something more when the microwave beeped, interrupting you. Taking a deep breath you moved to grab him his food.

"I appreciate you always feeding me." He moved to be standing directly behind you as you grabbed the hot glass plate from the microwave. You nearly tripped on him when you turned around, but he caught you, taking the plate from you he grabbed a fork from a drawer and planted himself at your table.

Getting both of you a glass of water you joined him at the table. "It's fine." You handed him his glass, which he immediately drank from.

"No juice?" He looked at you from over the rim of the glass.

"It's expensive, only have it for special occasions now." You drank from your own glass of water.

"I'll buy you some, your favorite kind." He continued to eat, shoveling the food you'd given him down his throat, either he hadn't eaten in a while, or he wasn't sure if he'd be leaving soon.

"You don't have to." Despite his flaws he was sweet, always trying to do nice things for you, like your dishes, or folding your laundry, things you hated to do yourself.

"You deserve juice, so I can have some too." He drank more of his water, a mischief in his tone and playfulness in his eyes.

"Oh, I see how it is." You playfully rolled your eyes at him, seeing his true intentions here.

"What? I deserve some juice, don't you think?" He kept playing, having some light banter for once, finishing his food and water, taking his plate and glass to the sink to wash them, he washed the container the food was in too.

Sudden memories of the yelling match you two had the last time he'd showed up at your door came to memory. You'd told him not to come back again, he'd said some hurtful words, hell, you had too. But he still came back to your door.

"Why do you keep wincing when you move your shoulder? What'd you do to yourself?" You changed your subject of thought, trying to be worried for him rather than reignite your anger towards him, or your hurt feelings. He was here now.

"Just work." He always said that whenever you asked about his injuries, his scars, his bruises, hell even his broken bones.

"Okay." You didn't push it, you knew better by now. "Be more careful."

A small pause in conversation ensued, a quiet hum from Leon as his acknowledgement of your words.

"What have you been up to? Any hot dates or guys I need to chase off?" He always tried to hide his insecurity through jokes and lightheartedness, it's not like you two were dating, but he wouldn't let you date someone else.

"Nope. Never is." You got up from the table, walking into the living room, Leon right on your heels, grabbing ahold of your hand as he followed you to the couch.

"Good. That's good." As soon as you'd sat down he was on top of you, pulling you to lay down, positioning himself between your legs to lay his head on your stomach. You were used to this by now, absentmindedly playing with his hair, tangling your fingers in his blonde locks as he tried to let himself relax, a soft groan of pain escaped him as his hurt shoulder let go of it's tension.

You knew he'd probably be gone tomorrow, and you'd let him leave. You wouldn't ask him to stay, you never did.

You snaked your other arm around him, holding him closer to you, smiling softly as you didn't smell alcohol on him this time. "You can rest here whenever you need to. I don't mind being your shelter, even if sometimes I do."

He didn't say anything, just nuzzled his head against your stomach, rubbing his nose against the fabric of your shirt, gently pushing it up a little, just to get to skin.

He'd always come crawling back, always with different intentions, but he'd always come back. Whimper and howl at your door until you let him back in, bite if you threatened his welcome, or if you tried to get too close. He was a bit skittish sometimes, untrusting you when you let him in, other times he'd be all over you.

"Don't let me in with no intention of letting me stay." He mumbled against your skin, gently biting at your stomach, the sensation nearly made you blank on what he'd said.

"I never turn you away." You gently pulled him by his hair, making him look up to you.

"You don't ask me to stay. We both know you're tired of this game, just stop letting me in, stop feeding me, stop talking to me, stop smiling at me like that, stop holding me like this if you don't want me here. I know, I'm a stray, you see me like a dog. Maybe I am a dog, maybe I'm the mutt you believe me to be. I bite the hand that feeds me. I hate you." He suddenly snapped at you, his words seemingly coming from nowhere, but this had been a long time coming. The catalyst? Maybe a bad mission. He didn't talk about work much but it was more than taxing. "I'm a dog for everyone."

"You hate me?" You sat up, pulling your shirt back down. "Don't even start that with me. No you don't. Or- maybe you do, but if you did, why would you come back even after I've told you to go?"

"Because you let me back in. You won't abandon me, even when you try to. I come back because I know I can. I always can with you." He pushed you back down, his hands on either side of your head, trapping you down. "I don't want to hurt you. But that's all I do. That's all I've ever done. Hurt."

"Leon, what are you even talking about? That's not all you do." You accepted being under him, letting him have you as he wanted you, it was no use fighting him on this. He wouldn't hurt you. Never.

"It is. All I do is fail others, I work, I try, and It's not enough. I can't work harder than I am. They already have everything above my head, and I couldn't stop them from taking more. I can't save the people who deserve to live." This wasn't about you, something had gone wrong at work.

"Not everything can be on you." You tried to sit up again, but he pushed you back down. "You're one person, all you can do is all you can do."

He took a deep breath, changing the subject, not wanting to get you in on his work things. "Why do you let me back in every time?"

You honestly didn't know the answer to that, you'd asked yourself the same question many times. "You keep coming back." You finally answered.

Leon sat up, pulling you up with him, before he stood up. "Then I'll be back." It was spoken as a warning. You tried to grab him, but he was already out of your reach, grabbing his jacket and putting on his shoes before walking out the door. Leaving you alone. Again.

#resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon x reader #x reader #oneshot #reader insert #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x reader angst #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil fanfic #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader

276 notes · View notes

hollysoda · 7 months

Text

Dragon of Time - one of the largest dragons to be seen in the skies. It is said to be the oldest of its brothers, having been reported to exist in many eras, and was therefore named after its timelessness. Though some doubt whether it truly is a good dragon, for the sharp markings on its face and whitened eyes give off the impression of something dangerous

Wolf Dragon - named for its furry wolf-like appearance. It only breaks the cloud barrier at dusk and roams the night, it’s somber howl becoming a folklore for travellers in forests. Legends say that it was once a friend of the Twili, and it circles around the Arbiter’s Grounds every night

Warrior Dragon - named for the metal plating that covers its back, and for how it only seems to appear before soldiers of pure heart/soldiers down on their luck. It is said that seeing the Warrior Dragon will bless the person with strength and courage, and if a feather from one of its blue whiskers were to fall before a captain they would be ensured victory

Winged Dragon - the rarest of the dragons, for it favours staying above the clouds and roaming the islands in the sky. Unlike most other dragons, it is more bird like, being covered in crimson feathers and sprouting large wings. It’s red feathers sometimes fall to the surface, and if spotted by a romantic couple they are blessed with eternal love. Some researchers argue that the Winged Dragon is even older than the Dragon of Time

Fairy Dragon - this dragon is often seen floating above Fairy Fountains, and it is said that new fairies are born from this dragon’s scales. It too has wings, but these ones are shaped like a butterflies. Some ancient texts read that parts of fairy dragon can heal even the most fatal injury or sickness, and a great evil once sort out the dragon in order to revive their leader

Long-Eared Dragon - an unusually pink dragon, adorned with golden horns and claws and most notably long rabbit-like ears. It soars around the entirety of Hyrule, but more sightings of it have been recorded around Eventide Island than anywhere else. If you are lucky enough to get close to this dragon, there is a sense of great calm in the air around it, as if the spirit within once fought many hard battles and now roams the sky in peace

Wind Dragon - a brilliant blue dragon that is a popular legend amongst seafarers and fishermen. It roams the coastlines, and is even said to sometimes dwell under water as there are stories of large draconic shadows being spotted beneath boats. If you ever feel a sharp breeze steering your sail away from your destination, it is most likely the Wind Dragon warning you of danger. However, the Wind Dragon is also often blamed for dangerous storms

Rainbow Dragon - a remarkably smaller and yet colourful dragon with iridescent scales. It is said to harness the powers of wind, fire, water and the earth combined, making it quite difficult to approach. Legends spread amongst blacksmiths say that if one were to meld one of its scales to a weapon the weapon would become unbreakable, and in an age where smithing is becoming a lost art many pray that they’re lucky enough to see the dragon

Dragon of the Wild - perhaps the most commonly reported dragon, for some claim to have known the spirit that resides within. It flies low around the entirety of Hyrule, but will then also return to the skies to fly with the Light Dragon. Over recent years it has become a staple sight in Hyrule and stories of the dragons origins have been passed down from generation to generation. It has become a commonly worshipped symbol for adventurers and soldiers alike

#sorry if the names for some of these suck I was struggling #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu sky #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu wind #lu four #lu wild #draconified links au

415 notes · View notes

ahoycaptainautumn · 8 months

Text

Fated Mates Part 5

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

After your night in a shared tavern room you find yourself tending to a hurt Astarion. Wounded, he finds himself famished.

Legs collapsing under you, you lean against the now closed bathroom door as you slide to the floor. What in the hells just happened? The whole thing felt like a blur. A memory of someone else’s. There’s no way you would lust after someone like him. It’s as if being in his presence makes all the hate and anger you have towards vampires melt to the background. It’s so easy to forget who he is, what he is. It’s so easy to fall into a hysterical rivalry full of jabs and insults. You would dare say it’s even.. enjoyable. You hoist yourself back up and run to the wash basin to splash water in your face. This can’t be happening. Whatever the hell that was was a fluke. It would never, ever, happen again. Somewhere small, in the very back of your mind, you almost caught your own lie.

After getting dressed and preparing mentally you go back out to the room. You are greeted with an empty bedroom. You sign in relief and grab your belongings before heading out. You meet with your party down on the base floor. Heads turn in your direction and nod in greeting. Though Astarion finds it more interesting to chat up the barmaid currently serving him. You bristle at the sight but wipe it from your mind. It never happened for you and it never happened for him, problem solved. You slide into the booth besides Karlach as she pushes a breakfast plate your way.

“Get enough sleep then, beauty queen?” Karlach asks. You greedily wolf down the plate in front of you as you reply.

“Best nights rest I’ve had in a minute!” You respond joyfully in between mouth fulls. Karlach laughs as you attempt to wipe around your mouth.

“Here.” Gale reaches out with his thumb and wipes your chin where a bit of food was left. “Good as new.” He beams. You can’t help the light blush that dusts your cheeks.

“Oh well thank you Gale.” Though unbeknownst to you, Astarion watches with obvious distaste.

“Alright alright, well if you're all down engorging yourself I’d really like to get back on the road. Places to be and all that.” Astarion announces from the top of the table. He slides his chair out from under him and makes way towards the door. You raise an eyebrow towards Shadowheart.

“Before you got down from your room we ended up finding some leads on potential cures on the tadpoles. There’s a goblin priestess who serves the Absolute. She’s alledgedly in the Selunite temples a few towns over near Elturel.” Shadowheart goes on to explain. With that, you finish your breakfast and head out with the rest of your group.

A few hours into your journey your group comes across a darkened path. Signs in a tongue you don’t recognize line the dirt road leading forward. Enormous trees with thick treetops darken the path till near darkness. Not a sound comes from it. No chirping song birds, no rustling of deer. Just the howling wind rushing between the tree limbs. Something about it makes you uneasy. You stop in your tracks at the sight. You nearly want to tell everyone to turn around. To ask a fellow traveler another way ahead. Just as you want to turn and say something, Astarion comes shoulder to shoulder with you. He looks you over and clicks his tongue.

“My my, don’t tell me you're scared little killer?” He mocks. You scoff and cross your arms in defiance.

“I am not! I’m just.. concerned. For everyone’s safety.” You defend. He only gives a laugh as he saunters off further down the trail. Shadowheart offers a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder.

“All will be well.” She says before following Astarion. As much as you want to take stock into what she says, you can’t help the nervous pit in your stomach. You swallow your fear and head forward with the rest of the group.

The inside of the forest is just as haunting as the entrance showed. You keep a hand on the blade you have holstered at your side. Gale begins a tangent on a story about a magical forest or another before a sound stops you. It’s faint, but the snap of twigs up to the left has you on alert. The others hear it too and stop along with you. The sound stops and you wait a moment before continuing.

“Probably a lost fawn, probably just as scared as our little leade-agh!” Astarion’s bantering ceases when an arrow flies and hits him directly in the shoulder. He falls to a crouch while reaching for the intrusion in his arm. The rest of your team also crouches and brandishes their weapon. More arrows fly from the tops of the trees and it sends you all scampering for cover. Astarion, Karlach, Lae-zel and you go for the left side of the trail while the rest of the team goes for the other side. Lae’zel and you go for throwing knives and arrows where Karlach damn near burns the trees surrounding you down. Astarion does some damage as best as he can with one arm down. You see the other members of your party fighting just as hard.

As weapons fly the amount of arrows lessens till it ceases. Out of breath and bloodied you and Lae’zel trot ahead to look at the damage done. A small fleet of goblins lay dead and scattered on the forest floor. You both make quick work in retrieving anything useful from them all before regrouping. Shadowheart does her best to mend Astarions shoulder with what she has at hand.

“It looks like there was a bit of poison on the tip of the arrow. I have most of what I need to purge it from his system, it may take a few hours to fully leave his body.” Shadowheart explains. Astarions face is twisted in pain as he holds onto his wounded shoulder.

“Their camp is close by. I say we finish off whomever is left and take it for the night.” Lae’zel mentions. You nod in agreement and help Shadowheart with getting Astarion up and on his feet. Ever arrogant he brushes off the help and stays determined to act as if nothing wounded him. You roll your eyes but drop it before getting into another “lovers quarrel”. The group follows Lae’zel’s lead as she hunts down the goblin camp. It takes some time to get there, a lot to do with injuries sustained. You keep a watchful eye on Astarion as he pants with each step. You can tell he lost a good bit of blood from the way he seems even more pale than usual. The poison creates a gnarly green color around the wound. He wears a pained scowl that tells he was well and truly hurt.

Finally you all come upon a small ridge overlooking a clearing. Below lies the goblin camp with the slim amount of goblins left. It takes nearly no effort for you and your group to silently clear them out from above. Once the last ones are dead you all slip down into the campsite. To your surprise there was actually quite a bit of supplies at the camp. Scavenging around you find a supply tent full of dried meats, fruits, medicines, soaps, and more. You wave everyone over and you can practically feel the excitement at having so much food at your fingertips. Karlach makes quick work of getting a fire going while you and Gale portion out food for everyone. Everyone settles in around the campfire as they dig into the food you handed out.

Astarion sits on a log with his untouched plate next to him. Shadowheart had done all she could in healing him but the blood loss was getting to Astarions head. The pain was searing into his shoulder. As if reading his mind, you come and sit next to him.

“Wyll mentioned seeing a stream just past the trees over yonder. How about we get that wound cleaned?” You ask. Your face holds no malice, no hint of an ulterior motive. Just genuine concern with your eyebrows scrunched in worry. It makes something in Astarions stomach does flips that he quickly shuts down.

“If you’re looking for a way to see me naked you could just be forthcoming.” Astarion jokes. As much as he wants to maintain a look of cool arrogance you can hear the pain laced in his words. You punch him in his good shoulder lightly. He feigns an overly dramatic wounded look.

“Or I want to make sure you are properly healed. I need you alive, remember?” You tut at him. You stand offering your hand to help him up. He ignores it and stands on his own. You grab a bucket, soaps, and linens from the supply tent and lead Astarion into the tree line. You hear howls and whistles coming from your companions but you both ignore them. It doesn’t take very long for you both to come upon the stream. Astarion plops down against a nearby tree while you fetch water. Sitting in front of him you aid in carefully getting is bloodied shirt off. You can tell he has another snide comment coming but you shut it down with a glare. He tries to chuckle at the face you make but getting his shirt off from around the wound makes him see red with pain. The blood around the wound causes the cloth to stick to his skin like glue. You carefully pick it away with as much tenderness as you can. Astarion watches you as you concentrate on freeing him of his shirt. Even through the pain he can’t help but feel mesmerized by you. The way your eyes sparkle with determination. The way you bit your lip in concentration. It nearly distracts him from the searing pain in his shoulder.

“Alright hold still, it might hurt a little.” You warn. You soak a washcloth in soapy water before beginning to dab at the incision. Astarion hisses in pain but keeps still. To distract himself he asks you.

“Why Cazador?” He finds himself asking. It had been on his mind since you propositioned him days earlier. What on earth would a non-vampire have to do with him?

“Well aren’t you blunt. And rude may I add. Not one for light conversation?” You deflect the question. Your mind already wanting to go to that dark place. To the memories you try so hard to run from.

“And I don’t think that’s an answer.” He retorts. You snort a laugh at him before returning to the seriousness of the question. You had never told anyone before. Not that there has really been anyone who knew Cazador before Astarion. But your trauma, your grief, was yours to bear. And you did so alone. But something breaks your silence and has the words tumbling from your lips.

“He killed my family. A deal gone wrong with my father that costed him our entire family.” You stare at the work at hand, refusing to meet Astarions eyes. Before he has a chance to respond you just give him a silent shake of your head. You weren’t ready to hear the “I’m sorrys” that came with your story. To discuss it any further. Astarion seems to understand and nods his head.

With a bit of determination and care you are able to clean the wound nearly completely. You take the extra bit of linens you brought and wrap it around the wound to allow it to heal. You look to Astarion ready to make some comment to break the tension before you notice how gaunt he looks. His eyes find yours and for the first time they look... vulnerable.

“Astarion, are you okay?” Your hand comes to rest on his cheek to turn his face completely to yours. He sighs and you can see the slight shake in his body.

“I need to feed. But in this state I don’t know how possible that is.” He sighs. He can feel the hunger rattling his canines. The way his stomach howls and his throat aches. He remembers this type of hunger. When he thought he would die at the mercy of Cazador withholding disgusting vermin. You search his eyes and find only the truth. You swallow hard and bring a hand up to brush away your hair from your shoulder. You turn your head to the side and hold your hands in your lap.

“Well then be quick. And don’t think I’ll offer this every time you get hurt.” Your voice shakes. Your mind and body scream at you that this is a horrible idea. A terrible idea. But with the way Astarion looks at you, you know he will only be getting worse without satiating his hunger. Astarions head whips forward and his eyes nearly bug out from his head. Did he hear you right? Were you truly offering yourself to him?

“Dear, are you sure?” He asks, confused. He can see the shake in your body but you still nod your head. He takes your hand in his as he ventures closer to your neck.

“Tell me when to stop and I promise I will.” He whispers against your skin. The slight nod of understanding is all he needs before he bears his fangs. His teeth bury themselves into the nape of your neck and you can’t help the way it takes your breath away. You squeeze Astarions hand for support. It makes all thoughts melt away from you. It blends the two of you into one as if you are two parts of the same soul. It’s painful but also somehow peaceful. As if a wave of comfort and belonging flowed from him. You lean into him and relax.

For Astarion it’s as if he is seeing color for the very first time. As if the earth had cracked open and freed him from centuries of neglect. Rushing feelings of euphoria hit him as he greedily gulps down your delectable blood. That all too familiar feeling of the bond aches to be knotted inside of him. To take and claim you as you are rightfully his. That the universe had graced him with a mate and all he had to do was reach out and take. Astarion feels dizzy with power. With lust. With an all consuming feeling that you would be his destruction and resurrection.

You gently squeeze his hand as you feel yourself getting more and more dizzy. You feel lightheaded as if you're melting into the clouds. He doesn’t register your grip and you squeeze once again.

“Astarion.” You are able to barely whisper. At that he snaps from his trance and retracts from you. He laps up the remaining blood from your neck and you shiver at his tongue's touch. It riles something inside of him that sends electricity right to his core. You look over at him with a near dopey smile. He can’t help but smile back even with your blood glistening off his canines.

“Hey, you didn’t kill me.” You giggle. He can’t help but laugh with you. He can tell the blood loss was making you nearly drunk, a sleepiness taking over.

“Ye of little faith. Now come on, you go on back to camp.” He dusts himself off and helps stand you up alongside him. You give him a confused look.

“And where are you doing?” You ask. His eyes darken with a glint. He looks stronger. Vibrant. Ready to take on anything.

“To hunt, little killer. I’ll be back.” And with that he stalks off into the night. As you make your way back to camp you miss the cracking sounds of feet nearby. Of a hidden sorcerer hidden in the trees following Astarion.

You wake to a screaming match outside your tent. Sunlight streams in through your thin tent and has you blinking away the sleep from your eyes. You rub your eyes with your palms and try to straighten yourself. The screaming only gets louder outside. You nearly throw your pillow over your head and attempt to get more sleep. To ignore whatever juvenile argument was happening between your partners. But the word vampire has you jolting awake and running outside.

You find Gale spearheading the group as they corral Astarion to the edge of the camp. His hands are up in mock defense as he lashes out at them with insults.

“Tell me one good reason I shouldn’t run a stake through your dead heart!” Gale screams. The rest of your party stands behind him, ready to pounce. You run to Astarions side without a thought.

“(y/n)! Careful! He’s a-“ Karlach starts.

“Vampire.” You finish, standing in front of Astarion between him and the witch hunt. Everyone looks shocked at your admission. Even Astarion seems dumbfounded. Why were you defending him?

“You knew? You knew and you let him continue to follow us? To live?” Wyll responds.

“That’s exactly what I did.” You keep your cool as best you can. But your hand twitches just above the blade you keep holstered at your thigh.

“Why in the gods names would you do that? You’re a vampire hunter for gods sake!” Wyll continues. Somehow the answer is easy. Easier than you thought admitting it would be.

“Because I trust him.” A hush falls over you all. Your heart beats wildly as you attempt to think of an escape plan if things are to go bad. Astarion all but forgets the angry mob in front of him. Your words stick in his mind and take up all its space. Trust. You trusted him. Him who has only ever been deceitful. A liar, a con man. Someone who has never been trusted and has never given reason to. And you, a little vampire hunter, trusted him. The mating bond sings in his mind and shines bright.

“Give us one reason to trust him.” Gale counters. You take a second to think of a good reason before your hand reaches up towards your collar. You shrug your jacket off and thrust the collar of your shirt down. You expose the bite marks Astarion left on your body from last night.

“Because he fed on me and stopped. Because I trusted him and he did nothing to disprove it. I gave him a chance at my life and he denied it. Which means you can all do the same.” You loosen your grip on your shirt and watch everyone’s reaction. They all seemed stunned, not expecting your answer. Astarion can barely believe it either. He takes a step forward to stand next to you. His shoulders touch yours as he comes close.

“We are all afflicted with these awful worms in our heads. We are all on the same team. Besides, I mostly have self control.” He tries to calm the group. It takes a moment but the tension of the air dissipates. Shoulders slump and weapons are reholsted. Sighs of relief are heard all around.

“Well as long as you don’t bite I guess that’s that.” Shadowheart says as she turns away. The rest of the group grumbles their shared approval and head back to their respective tents. Your body finally relaxes as you let go a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You look over at Astarion to find him already looking at you. You turn to ask him what’s on his mind before his lips find your forehead. The kiss is swift, barely skin to skin contact. But it blossoms a blush across your whole body all the same. You look up at him to find him smiling.

“Thank you, your kindness will not be forgotten.” He says before walking away to his tent. You freeze in position unable to move or think. Your hand reaches up and touches where he had kissed you. You inspect your fingers as if looking for evidence that that had truly happened. Something deep and ancient stirs deep inside you and you're terrified of how much you enjoyed it.

Part four here

Part six here

#smut #reader insert #astarion #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bd3 #mates #balders gate 3 #wyll #gale hawthorne #shadowheart #lae’zel #karlach #baldurs gate 3

561 notes · View notes