#the good news is that they seem to like baths now
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A Cure For A Bad Day
Summary: Aemond has one of his worst days ever, nothing seems to go right. At night, at least, he gets the company of his new wife as he bathes.
Based on Ewan Mitchell's and TGC 'Scene Reactions' when he says "When we did that scene, when he had the rain machine going in, the dye on the eyepatch... it just stained the wig"
✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, bath sex, breeding kink, overall very sweet, aemond discovering feelings.
✧Word Count: 5.2k
✧ Ao3 link: here
✧gifs: by myfandomprompts
Aemond is known for many things. He is fierceless, perfectionist, well trained with the sword, and bold. Those things he was proud of.
And all those things, he was not today.
He trained by morning, and Criston Cole was waiting for him. The sword felt slightly different on his hand, weird, but he just took it that he slept badly and that's why his arm felt numb.
Now, after losing his eye, he had to learn things differently. He had a considerably big blind spot, and so he learned how to keep it aware of his surroundings as training with the sword. Yet, those things do not have in mind the little rocks on the ground, which he stepped on and twisted his ankle as he tried to defend Ser Criston’s attack.
And with that, he twisted his ankle and slightly cut his hand.
He was annoyed, but he tried not to pay attention to it. A silly mistake. The rock was on his blind side, how could he notice? It was a rookie mistake, and it burned his cheeks to remember it.
By the evening, after eating, he decided to ride Vhagar. His girl liked long rides, not so fast but more calm, and prowling around the crownlands skies.
He did not anticipate the rain.
For some reason or another, Vhagar was as grumpy as him, and she did not seem to want to go over the clouds in the rain. No, she wanted full on take a bath on the rainfall.
And Aemond had to bear it. But what was worse was when he realised that his eyepatch had dyed his hair. He just picked the worst eyepatch today.
His hair was slightly silver auburn, and just in some parts. He hated it, and it made his day ten times worse as he realised the eyepatch had been too tight, and it had been suffocating his scar without him realising.
He had trouble with the sensibility on his left side of his face, and just today he put his eyepatch too tight. It made him furious.
And he decided to make it everyone’s problem.
He was laying in the bathtub, next to the fire as he had a horrible headache. He came in, demanding a bath as the servants had to rush to get him hot water.
He took his own clothes off, kicking his boots away, refusing any servants touch as he undoes his own leather jerkin, he unties his breeches, grunting and mumbling in frustration, hating each instance of this day. He thinks a bath will help him to relax even a bit. He just wanted to sleep, and end up with this horrible day.
His scar itches, and it drives insane. It was as if the itchcame from the deep parts of his cheekbones and it drove him mad. He was at the edge of peeling his own skin to scratch his damn scar.
Only in his undergarments, he ignores the chilling cold from the chamber, and he walks barefoot as the servants fill the bathtub with hot water. As hot as possible. He walks over the chimney, and throws the eyepatch in, hoping it burns in hell.
His loose hair, tinted with the dye of the eyepatch. If he only knew who was the mastermind behind it, who decided to spend coins on it; he would kill them. And they better hope this stupid dye can get off with the bath, or head will start rolling.
The water was hot, but he paid no mind. He liked boiling hot, and he sat against his as he let the attendant boy prepare scents and the oils to put on the water, and to wash him. Aemond didn’t allow him to wash him; yet. He wanted some moments of peace in the hot water, so he remained a good amount of time still.
“Bring me the ointment that Maester Orwyle prepared for my eye” Aemond’s voice is low, yet demanding as the boy gets out, not without bowing to the prince.
He waits, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that would calm his nerves, his headache. He believes it works, so he is focused on it, as he accommodates his legs on the water, trying to be relaxed.
Time is a bit dizzy, and when he hears the door open, he can hear the servants speaking hushedly, as if wanting him not to hear. Good, because he didn’t want to listen to them either.
He can hear the little taps that the shoes do as the maid leaves the oils for his hair on a near table, and takes his hair on her hands, gently. He doesn’t turn to face her; he just wants the damn dye to get off.
Hands wash his hair, and if he wants to relax, this is making it impossible. The little tugs and the awful way that scrubs his hair to take the dye off, and the weird caresses on his neck from time to time.
“You are not doing correctly" he grumbles to the servant with closed eyes as his migraine is persistent. "Learn how to wash a prince's hair" he adds, sharply.
“Apologies” The voice comes as a murmur, a bit strained if even, as the hands go to his neck, and all the way up.
“My prince” He adds sharply, he cannot believe his luck today. “When you address a royal member of the Targaryen House, you use their title. My prince” he says, patronisingly and even angry.
“Yes, my prince” a little cough at the end, he either thinks the maid is trying to hold back a laugh or embarrassment. Not that he cares, as he has his eye closed and a hand on his temple, his head resting on his hand, that caresses his forehead trying to get that awful headache away
Aemond's face was scrunched up in pain, as his eyes were closed. "Are you new at this? I swear... I am starting to believe that they are just sending me incompetent maids to attend to me..." the young prince groaned.
His body stiffens, as arms go to wrap his neck from behind, and before he can sit up properly, he feels the maid kiss his cheek lovingly as she giggles. “Apologies, my prince…”
The voice is clear as day, and if his hand was going to fetch the little dagger on the table by his side, it stops.
He turns his head to his right, seeing your wide smile as you wait for his reaction. He groans, rolling his eyes, which causes you to laugh loudly.
His new wife, she always liked to tease him and cling to him, always hugging him, taking his hand in hers or kissing him all over. He didn’t mind; he always allowed her even at court. But he won’t admit that he likes it too.
“Wife” he greets you as he sighs, and he feels your hand rubbing circles in the back of his neck.
“I know, I do not know how to wash hair. You’ve made it completely clear”
“I thought you were a servant” he says, looking at her. “You are a highborn lady, you don’t need to know how to.”
“True…” you say, moving some of the wet hair out of his face, and squeezing it so it isn’t dripping. “I heard that my prince had a horrible day, and he was in a bad mood. Servants do talk, you know…” you say looking at him with a smile “Wanna tell me about it?”
Aemond sighs and looks at you, as you take the sponge to wash his body. He sighs as you pour some of the water in his chest and start scrubbing softly.
“"A terrible day... I stepped on a rock, and twisted my ankle and cut my arm in the process... Then i wanted to relax with a ride on Vhagar, but it started to rain, the fucking dye of the eyepatch got all over my hair and eye.. I have the worst migraine now..." his voice is rough, and he seems annoyed at the memory of it. “And I haven’t seen you as much as I’d like”
It wasn’t the worst day he has ever lived. Maybe. When he lost his eye it could be the top one. He won Vhagar, at the cost of his eye. It was an amazing thing, traded for the worst thing that has ever happened to him. He was still living the consequences of it today, as his scar stinged on his skin.
“Not your best day, I see” you say softly, scrubbing his chest. He enjoys it, as he looks at you, leaning back in the bath as you scrub his chest. “I’m sorry to hear it”
“I don’t need pity”
You chuckle “It is not pity” you say softly, looking at your husband. “What can I do to make you feel better?”
Aemond stays silent. He is not used to someone caring about him like this. Sure, his mother cared for him, and so did Helaena But not like this.
“Be by my side”
The silence is a bit comforting, as you wash his body. He looks at you deeply, and he cannot help but think how stunning you are. You didn’t find any discomfort in washing him, in caring and tending to him. You never once seem disgusted by his lack of eye, by his empty eye socket, or his ugly scar. Never once you discarded him.
It was more than often that you placed the ointment prepared by maester Orwyle on his eye, his scar, where his nerves were permanently damaged and they brought discomfort to him. You never once complain.
“You look different” he says, looking at you in the dim lights of the room.
“Different how?” you ask, as you finish brushing his hair, making sure the dye is almost completely getting off his wet hair. He has little curls, which makes you smile like an idiot.
“I do not know. Shining. Radiant. Lovely.” He murmurs, moving one of his wet hands to tickle a strand of hair on your ear. “Different”
“So I usually do not look radiant or lovely…”
“Not what I meant” he groans and you chuckle softly. “You were sick. Now you look much better in… spirits.”
“You look different too” You say looking at him with a smile. Your eyes fall to his chest, and you smile. He notices how you get flustered at the sight of his nakedness.
“More wounded” he says ironically, leaning back with a sigh.
“Stronger” you correct him smiling. “More… mhm. I’d say more… Hot”
“You think I am hotter when I'm wounded?”
“Not what I meant” you say chuckling under your breath, “I meant… I like seeing you like this... Leaning back is so... manly, and hot…"
“Oh, do you?” he asks slightly amused, leaning back still as he looks at you, nodding and smiling. Aemond frowns a bit, and he hisses then you accidentally hit his new wound on his wrist.
“Sorry, love” you say, kissing his hand, and smiling. “You know, when I was little they cured my wounds like this. With a kiss”
“Did they?” He asks, trying to remain interested even with his headache.
“Yes. Like this” She says kissing near his wound, a very feather-like kiss. “See? Does it feel better?”
You look at him with an adorable expression, as if you truly think that this would make him feel better. Aemond blinks, as he looks at you.
It ticks him the wrong way that you care about him. Why would you? Perhaps it is a womanly thing. He wasn’t so sure. Perhaps as his wife, it is your burden, having to make a maimed man feel better.
The prettiest maiden in court, chained to a maimed man, deformed and always wounded, stuck in the pain of his eye to see beyond. Wasting your best years with him.
And he cannot decipher why.
“Aemond?” You ask as he trails off.
“Yeah” he clears his throat, awkwardly, and he moves his legs a bit. “I guess so”
“Where else does it hurt?” You ask sweetly.
He sometimes hates how kind you can be, he doesn’t know what your upper intentions are, but after all, you are his wife even if he can’t decipher you.
“Well, my eye, obviously…” he says a bit embarrassed “And… my left foot, I guess. And my arm, because I slept on it… and…”
You nod, looking at him as he speaks. He is intimidated, he realises. You make sure to hear all of what he has to say, with your sweet eyes.
You move to the end of the bathtub, and move to kiss his ankle softly, no complaints, no hesitation. Nothing… odd, about it. Only out of tenderness. You kiss his shoulder, and his left cheekbone, softly, to make sure it doesn’t burn on his skin. He just lets you, because it makes you happy, thinking that it helps.
And he doesn’t realise that it actually helps him, in a way. The smile on your face makes him smile too, and he sighs.
“Better?”
“Mhm” he hums in agreement, looking at your face. “Better when you're with me, yes”
He is utterly head over heels for you, even if he isn’t good with feelings. He loves you, even when he seems slightly annoyed by you.
“And you?”
“And me?” You ask curiously.
“You were sick. Coughing like crazy, and all your body ached.” he says softly, “in confinement, away from me… Do you truly feel better?”
“I am better. Lady Westerling got all of us sick” you say with a slight smirk. “my body still aches a bit, but it’s…” you hesitate a bit, slightly nervous.
“Then join me” he interrupts, moving to try and get you in the bathtub with him. "The hot water will do good to you..."
"It will burn my skin, I hate how hot you take these baths..." you protests, moving his hands off your waist as he tries to pull you in.
"The Blood of the Dragon, wife" he says smugly, smirking. "It is cold, anyways. It is barely warm"
"You like it boiling hot" You say smiling to him, and he presses a kiss on your jaw.
"I do, indeed." He admits "Come on, get in with me"
“Aemond, my nightgown…” you protest, and he rolls his good eye.
“You have others, let it get wet” You seem to give in, as he helps you get in, holding your hand as you enter the bathtub. “It will do good to your aches.” He insists, taking your waist in his hands to place you on his lap.
“I think it is an excuse” you say, blushing a bit as you accomodate on his lap.
“A good one, you must admit” he says looking at you, and he passes his hands all the way up to your back. “But an innocent one, I must admit” he says, and you tilt your head as if asking him to elaborate “I don’t think I am up for anything, I am too tired for it”
You hum, his still wet hair made him look almost cute. His little curls...
“The dye came off” you say, as he leans to kiss your neck a bit. “I can go to the tailor and ask them to make another eyepatch one for you. More fancy. With real leather. Maybe add some fancy dragon scales in it”
“Hm. Fine” he says looking up at you, smiling at how delicious you were. He places a kiss on your hand, and he smiles. “What is bothering you?”
You stay still, blinking a bit. “Court. Ladies… at court. They don't seem to like me much. I mean, they like me but I always feel excluded. Like I am doing too much for them to like me”
Aemond looks at you, a bit surprised by it. He places his hands on your waist, and he certainly was thinking about how to comfort you. He wasn’t a court charmer either, so he hummed.
“I thought you had friends.”
“I do… I guess. They just never seem to think of me when doing things. They do not hate me, no… I am the new one…, and so they just…. Don’t include me”
“I’ll include you” he states nodding. “I’ll bring you with me everywhere. Training, riding Vhagar, in the library, all of it.” He proposes softly.
“Hm. It would be pleasant.”
You smile softly, your hands, now wet and in the water, move from his abdomen all the way up to his chest.
Your husband was well fit. A prince of the realm, training with the sword since he was little. He practised almost every day, and was very detail-oriented in his field. And that paid off, as he was lean; yet muscular.
You two were still newlyweds. Maybe three months since you two married, and things were a bit awkward still. You tried to decipher his odd behaviour and he tried the same with yours, starting to know each other personally, yet there was a bond, a silent affection you both shared for the other.
His body felt warm. He had stayed at the bathtub for Gods know how many hours, and he was all wet and shiny. You hand caressed his muscles, going up from his abdomen to where his wispy chest hair were.
“What is in your mind?”
You hum, and smile “How handsome my husband is” you murmur “How good he is to me…” you add “How much I truly like you…”
Aemond raises his eyebrows, and he looks at you as your hand caress his torso up and down, slowly, as if you were tempting him.
“Oh?”
You nod softly, and even if he doesn’t know you too well; he knows this face.
You move to kiss his neck, your arms wrapped around his torso as you leave little kisses all over his skin. He chuckles a bit, at your little desperation for the demonstration of love, you were such a physical person for him.
“Darling, what are you-”
“I just missed you” You say, and he can see in his head the pout you would form if you weren’t so eagerly kissing his neck.
He chuckles as his hand holds your waist firmly on his lap, and he leans his head back, facing the ceiling as you two spoke. “Very eagerly, I see”
“You are tired. But let me…”
Your arms wrapped around him, holding him as you press gentle kisses there, and he smiles, starting to feel the boiling arousal in his abdomen, looking at the ceiling as if it could distract his mind.
“Very well”
His arms went to the edges of the bathtub, as he felt the fabric of the nightgown against his chest, and he certainly was starting to enjoy the constant nibbling and wetness of your kisses.
Aemond lets out a quiet groan, enjoying the gentle bites at his neck, as he feels his neck a little warmer. “You little minx- Did you just give me a hickey?”
Your giggle tells him all, as you move your lips to the start of his clavicle. His good eye closes as he enjoys the way your mouth feels against his sensitive skin.
“You are simply… delicious” you murmur, your kisses going lower to his chest, before stopping a moment.
“Do not tell me you want to leave a hickey there…” He says, moving his head down to look at you.
As he imagined before, your mouth turns into a pout as you frown; most adorably he must add.
“Oh, please! Let me try” You ask him “It is a way to show you that I missed you” You add, trying to convince him as he chuckles, making a mocking sound.
Aemond rolls his eyes as he feels your eager mouth sucking the skin of his chest, as if he was some kind of… not even he knew. It felt strange. Worshiped and feral. That’s how it felt, at least for him.
Once you separate, you look at your work, your thumb moving along the bruised skin with a satisfied smirk.
“Looks so good on you” you swear, as if it was a matter to be known.
“If it makes you happy” he says, accommodating on his seat, the water moving along with him. “My turn, then?”
You shake your head with a giggle “You always make it a mess!”
That he did, and he smiles a bit, seeing the lack of lovemarks of your neck.
It is you who eagerly kiss him, and press your body to his, as if needing him. He isn’t one to complain, as he feels your eager lips pressing against his and your tongue invading his mouth. Rather bold, to his taste. But he likes it.
Your hands on his shoulder make their slow way down, passing temptingly slow from his chest, to his abdomen. He gasps in the kiss, as if he was some kind of maiden, when he feels your hands underwater on his crotch and touching his cock.
He frowns a bit as he separates, trying to demand an answer. “Wha-” he tries to ask before you shut him up with a kiss, not even letting him speak.
Rather eager, aren’t we… He thinks, but he isn’t one to complain, as your touch is like magic to his dick. In the water is odd, he has to admit, but his member thinks otherwise as he gets aroused from your eagerness.
You smooch him with kisses, and he feels… intimidated, in a good way. You don’t even allow him to breathe without going for another kiss, desperate. Feral.
He has a feral wife, it seems.
“Darling, what are you…” he asks amused as you break the kiss, just to move your wet skirts all the way up, but he can’t see much of your pussy in the water, which he dislikes a lot.
“I missed you” you repeat “A lot.”
“It isn’t as if you were confined in a tower for years. It was barely two days. And I visited you-”
“I need you, husband” you state impatiently, as your knees move to the sides of his hips. “so, if you are tired, I’ll do it”
He blinks, surprised and taken aback. He is rather amused and aroused, at his bold wife.
“Alright” he says, looking at you as you can do the work alone.
He isn’t tired for sex, not at all. He can certainly get the energy, maybe not perform as usual, but he’ll do it if you ask. You didn’t even need to ask for it. But seeing you in control is better than that.
You rode him once, for later to admit that it wasn’t your favourite position, because you grew tired quickly. He didn’t mind, but now he thinks he’ll have you riding him at least once a week.
The way your dick enters your body is slow, as you slowly lower yourself on it. He can see your face contoured with pleasure, how you shut your eyes, and your hands grip on his shoulders as you whimper on it, you open your mouth and he leans to kiss your neck a bit, as if wanting to give back the affection you give him.
More than bounce on it, you find it more practical to grind on it. Your hands, that move between his waist and his shoulders, as if you didn’t know where to hold him to help you grind against his cock.
“That’s so good…” you whimper as you grind on his cock.
The water moves around, the harder you grind, the harder it moves on the bathtub. He is even sure that some of it has overflowed the bathtub, as he looks at your pretty face, as you moan needily. His hand moved to pull down your nightgown, just enough to expose both of your tits in the firm fabric. He pulls it down to expose your shoulders a bit, and it is a sight that only arouses him more.
“It’s so good, baby?” He asks looking up to you, and he leans his head to kiss your nipple, gently.
He knows you missed him. You are not rough, or a mess on his cock. You are doing it so prettily, so sweetly, he knows that you truly have missed him and his touch.
“Yeah, so-so good.” You babber a bit, nodding as he kisses your other breast softly. He does not hold you, he has his hand on the back, trying to keep him firm as you ride him.
His right hand holds your waist, as he notices. Your arms are on his shoulders as you whimper and moan, grinding him, not even minding the water around.
He has to admit, in the bathtub isn’t as comfortable as outside of it. The water doesn’t help to be smoother, if anything, he has the impression it does the contrary. It may be just him, as you don’t say anything against it.
“So eager, baby…” he says amazed, and now he feels like the one worshipping you. He just adores you, he realises, as he sweetly talks you through it “You just needed me, this badly?” He asks, kissing your jaw.
The little nods you give him are enough to get him moving his hips slowly up to meet your little grinds and bounces.
He kisses your breast again, and the other, and the other. He adores you, how the little mewls from your mouth are so arousing for him as you clench your pussy around him.
“Aemond…” you whine. “Feels.. amazing, so good...” you repeat, as if you couldn't think of anything else, as he looks up to you.
He is just surprised you have gotten this far without begging him to take control. They way he’d take your waist and flip you around, to make you hold the other edge of the bathroom, just to take you from behind, again, and again, and again. The water would overflow the bathtub completely, and his seed would be securely in your womb.
But you don’t ask him, and he doesn’t do it. He likes the sweetness of it. He likes how you look at him needily for both of your lips to meet on a kiss, passionate as your bounces and grind are slightly weaker.
“My special girl…” he murmurs, kissing you again and again, not minding if they are pecks or if he has the opportunity for his tongue to play with yours. “I love you”
You nod, whimpering and whining as you say it back. I love you, I love you, I love you. Again and again, as if it was some prayer.
“Aemond” you moan into his mouth,
“I know. Can you feel how good you take me?” He asks softly, kissing your chin, as he holds your waist to help you bounce on his cock. The splash of the water amuses and arouses him, and he groans at the sight of your nightgown fully soaked, glued to your figure.
“Mhm. Yes, yes, Gods, yes” you said, probably numb and already cockdrunk, just enjoying the feeling of his cock so deep inside.
“You want me to fill you, hm? To make you round with my seed, baby?” He asks, looking at you, moving to kiss your neck.
He is also rambling at this point, as you squeeze him in the perfect way, asking to be filled with cum. He ignores how the water splashes his chest and back, how it is practically soaking the carpet under the bath, and making a mess. He has to remember how wet it might be so you two don’t slide on the floor.
“Aemond, I… oh, Gods, Aemond!”
You little moans are music to his ears, as he holds your waist to move you down to his cock, to his taste. Not as rough as usual, but certainly desperate enough to want to cum.
“Will you cum for me, darling?” He asks, as he feels your hips grinding more desperately on him, and he throws his head back on the edge as he feels his balls tighten as well. You did wonders on him. “Cum for me and I’ll fill you up as you so much like” he promises, almost feral for you to cum.
Your release made him moan, loudly, as he held you tight on his cock as he cums as well. He looks lazily at you, panting and whimpering still, which only serves to fuel the last remains of arousal on his abdomen, filling your womb with his cum. He hopes it takes root and to see you grow pregnant as moons pass by.
“Thank you” you say, breathless against his chest, kissing his cheek sweetly.
He smiles a bit, by how pleasure drunk you obviously were. He moves you slightly, to pull out from you and accommodate you on his chest, which you take comfort in. “Nothing to be thankful for. I thank you. Having sex is rather… good for when one had a bad day” he says smiling.
You smile, and look at him, caressing his chest as you remain in this position, calmly breathing as he tries to stop panting.
“Have I made it better?” You ask, softly, looking up to him.
He chuckles softly, almost amused by how ridiculous the question was.
“Just by having a sight of you, you make my day better” he says.
Even if he was new to this whole marriage thing, even if sometimes he didn’t know you that well as your ladies-in-waiting and sometimes just allowed you to be even if it bothered him. He didn’t understand you most of the time, but he certainly adored you, very dearly.
“I can make it even better” you say almost proudly, and he raises his eyebrow, looking at you laying on his chest. The water wasn’t even hot anymore, but more cold than he could bear.
“Oh, how so?” He asks amused. “Did you claim a dragon? Only that can top the amazing moment that we just-”
“I am with child” you say simply, looking at him with a smile.
He stops on his tracks, and looks at you as he takes in what you said. He blinks, looking at you, and you smile awkwardly at him. Was he happy? The prospect always puts him in a good mood. But maybe it wasn’t as you thought? One thing was words, and other actions.
You watch his eye as he seems to have hundreds of thought per second, his face slight confused as he frowns a bit, before his lips turn into smile full of disbelief.
“Are you joking?”
“No... Maester Orwyle informed me this morning” you say softly. “He says that probably our wedding night was fruitful. I don't know. I don't look that pregnant, after these months. We have to figure it out in these days, so we can see when the birth is due... It's funny, because at first we thought it was from the sickness, that I got the worst part… but I just happened to be sick and pregnant”
That's why Maester Orwyle looked at him with a slight smirk as he helped desinfect his arm after training. You probably asked him to keep the secret so you could tell him.
That's why there was something off about you. He couldn't get exactly what, but something was off. It made sense, how nervous you were and how you tried to tell him before, but he was a fool to not notice it.
“Oh, my love…” he says, as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly to him. “Oh… I don’t… I... What can I even say to that?”
He is surprised, and he can’t believe it. You were pregnant. You actually were. His little offspring, growing in your womb right at this moment. Your stomach was not firm by any mean, he couldn't decipher it even if he liked so.
“That is… That is the best thing anyone has ever told me” he admits, chuckling a bit in surprise. “You are going to be a mother. And you are going to make me a father”
"We are, indeed" You say smiling to him. "In some months, it will be me, you and a weeping babe"
He can feel his nose burn as he smiles, the image on his head as he forces himself not to cry of happiness, a weird chuckle comes out of his mouth.
"You are right" he says looking at you. "So, you are definitely moving to my chambers now, aren't you? No more personal chambers, no more confinement when sick. You are not leaving my side, not you or our little dragon" He states nodding, not for discussion. He can't have you just wandering around without him near to protect both of you.
He smiles, as you giggle. His day certainly got better, all thanks to you. His hands caress your back soothingly, as he is just... happy. He forgets about his horrible day, how his ankle still hurts or how his scar stings on his cheek and forehead as he smiles. What is that compared to the joy of knowing that he will be a father? A father to your children as well?
“Now, how come Lady Westerling got my pregnant wife sick?” he teases you as you roll your eyes. “She is in so much trouble, who does she think she is? Both my wife and my sweet baby? Oh, she is not going to see sunlight ever again-”
“Aemond!” you giggle, but he smooches your cheek with kisses that only makes your giggles grow louder.
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pep reads: fluffiest fluff edition
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I've just been CONSUMING so many jjk fanfics... here are the softest fluffiest fic recommendations since I think we all need it right now. This list is in no particular order – there's so many talented writers out there! These ones just made me MELT extra hard. Mostly no smut, I just needed to be held.
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gojo satoru
☆ only you by Kaiseriin
[A03: mini series] [status: unknown] [Cursed speech!reader]
Other than Gojo, not many people understand the sign language you use to communicate as a cursed speech user. When some students from Kyoto arrive, one tries to learn so he can get closer to you.
☆ summer skies, winter lies by miyaspudding
[A03: long fic!][status: ongoing]
"how cruel was fate? how much had he sinned in his past life, for the woman he loved to belong to his best friend?
how little did god love him?"
in which gojo satoru learns that emotions are not weaknesses but consolations; and geto suguru realizes that he's always been a little too late for everything. because the furthest distance is an inch away, and the furthest thing from truth is "just friends".
☆best of luck. by reinerispretty
[A03: one shot! part of a mini series] [status: unknown]
In which Gojo Satoru shows up unannounced, twice.
☆Ah, you were both equally idiotic by Hiroka
[A03: mini series] [status: unknown]
4 times others realized something was going on between Gojo and you, and 0 times you both realized it.
[Oneshots from the Old Beats Cinematic Universe]
☆ For A God, Shopping Is a New Adventure by Bun_sun
[AO3] [status: on going!] [Baker!reader]
“Would you like anything else?”
“Actually, yeah.” He flashes you a grin that only promises trouble, pushing his sunglasses down with a way too exaggerated flirty expression.
“Can I get your number too?”
“Haha, really funny Gojo. Now, I have more clients so...”
But he's already getting his phone out, as if he hasn't listened to a single word you've said.
“...Oh, you're for real.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Reader owns a small cafe with their own baked goods. Gojo comes in one day, and absolutely falls in love with their pastries (and with them).
☆ I Want to Kiss You / キスしたい by arminsumi
[A03][status: unknown]
You and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.
You've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. There's seems to be romantic tension between you and Suguru, too.
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geto suguru
it's so hard to find suguru fics without him being used as a plot device for gojo
☆ gentle glow / deep thought by waffiez
[AO3: one shot] [status: completed]
"I thought about you, you know." Despite the softness of his voice, it cut through the otherwise silent atmosphere profoundly and made your heart skip a beat.
"Is that so?"
"It is."
☆☆☆
in which you awake to your best friend suguru asleep at the edge of your bed, having returned from a lengthy mission and only really wanting to see you.
☆ unnamed drabble by @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat
[tumblr: drabble] [status: completed]
comfy fluff w sleepy needy sugu <33)
☆ Wash It Away by @shadowsandshapes
[A03/tumblr: drabble][status: completed]
Sometimes you forget Geto is just a guy. But then he shows a sense of vulnerability that surprises you. After a particularly emotionally draining battle, you run him a warm bath and take care of his aches.
☆ Wisteria and Ciabatta by @hayakawalove
[A03/tumblr: mini fic!][status: completed, chapter 2 has smut!]
Traveling merchant Suguru has led a relatively tame life thus far. Growing his flowers, baking his bread. One day, when he ventures out further than normal he comes across something more beautiful than all the flowers in the world. You.
☆ the paint doesn't move the way the light reflects by @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat
[tumblr: long oneshot!] [status: completed]
when the king puts you under the supervision of a dashing knight, you promise to make his job as difficult as possible. unfortunately, suguru geto is the patient sort.
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bonus!
☆ Digest Your Feelings (DYF) – First Years! by @whalesforhands
[A03/tumblr: part of a longer series of fics] [status: completed]
new classmates, new life, new friends(?).
a look into the life of the dyf au characters in their first year.
#suguru geto x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#satoru gojou x reader#getou suguru x reader#jjk fluff#pep recommended 💖#ao3#ao3 fanfic#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk 261 healing#gojo x reader#geto x reader#jjk 261#jjk fic#fic rec#gojo fluff#geto fluff#gojo satoru#geto suguru#pep reads 📚
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I tried to adopt a cat from a rescue, I really did. I filled out and submitted applications to 5 different rescues because the local SPCAs didn't have cats that fit my needs (social with cats and dogs, approximately 1 year old, high energy, and preferably long or medium haired).
I explained in detail the care I give my current cupcake. She's spayed, gets routine vet care, is up to date on shots. She has her own room (my room) which is set up with shelves, trees, 2 litter boxes. She gets supervised free roam of the house (not 24/7 because of lifestyle reasons). I use puzzle feeders for her meals- high end brands like The Honest Kitchen, Open Farm, Stella and Chewy (I like to mix it up to keep it interesting). I play with her at least twice a day, or whenever she asks. Indoors only. She has a water fountain. We're working on harness training. I made it clear I had a second room set up similarly and ready to go, and carefully researched introductions. Dogs are cat social and kenneled unless supervised. I don't know, I feel like my cat lives a good life. She's happy, fit, and I adore her.
Couple of weeks past and I received 5 rejection emails with reasons such: I maintain a very small flock of exhibition poultry, that I do breed and sell the chicks of seasonally, which is...immoral to them, I guess; my brother who does live in the same household has intact show and working dogs; the dogs are kenneled (what??); I don't work full-time; one even said it was because I feed my current cat dry food instead of wet food. My cat straight up won't eat wet food! She hates it! I replied and said I would offer wet food if the new cat wanted it, and they never responded.
It all just seemed like weird reasons to me. Maybe not, I don't know if that's just how rescues are. I ended up with my cat through the pregnant cat distribution system (my mom owns her mom) so I didn't have to deal with takes on cat care I didn't get.
Dejected, I started looking on Craigslist and saw a cat that perfectly fit my needs- a sphynx outcross project that tested positive for mild HCM (asymptomatic for now) so the breeder who purchased him immediately neutered him. So I asked about him, located a cardiologist and scheduled an appointment with my vet ahead of time to get a referral to the cardiologist. Did lots of reading on HCM. Met with them and they were lovely. Got all his paperwork with his health testing and his whole history and genetics. I fell in love with him immediately. Everything they said about him has been true: he's confident, well-mannered, has the exact same play style as my kitty. There was not a single point during the 4 hour drive home that he showed signs of stress, he took treats and just lounged. When I set him in his room, he waltzed right out of his carrier with his chest puffed out, head held high, and rubbed all over me, purring and bumping his head into me. There hasn't been an adjustment period, he just came out and was like, "sweet, new digs! now, pet me!" Settled into a routine so fast. Has been perfect for his nails and bathing him. We're already making tremendous progress with recall.
This cat is so fucking well socialized. And his structure? Fucking gorgeous. Exactly as sphynx are described, with a deep chest, solid belly, longer hind legs than front, long creepy fingers which he uses to grip me instead of his claws and it feels like a human infant gripping me (deeply unsettling).
It's been such a good experience, and the rescues were so weird, I honestly don't know if I can ever get a cat that wasn't selectively bred again. He's not even pure bred! His dad is 100% sphynx but his mom is a dominant blue eye project from approved sphynx outcrosses.
Don't get me wrong, I love my first bastard kitty, she's the best cat there is. But now I have two perfect cats! I didn't realize that was possible...all my friends' cats, they're often much more nervous and shy. I was prepared for my second kitty to just never live up to my first.
Here he is, my weird coated mostly sphynx:
Bonus DNA results
I wonder what that person bit is about.
Unfortunately your story is not unique.
These excessive and unrealistic standards are part of what I mean when I discuss barriers to adoption as being one of the actual issues contributing to overpopulation of homeless pets.
I’ve seen people discuss being rejected due to their age despite being staffed in the veterinary field, the person was in their early 20’s.
I’ve seen people discuss being rejected due to having intact animals in the household despite them being species that aren’t traditionally altered, like reptiles.
A rescue I knew would avoid adopting out to people who indicated they would feed a brand of food the rescue considered to be lower quality, such as Friskies canned.
I’ve spoken to rescues for a veterinary reference who were disappointed the prospective adopters most recent cat wasn’t current on their vaccinations despite being an 18+ hospice case.
I could go on and on and on.
I’m glad you were finally able to find a cat to give a good forever home to, it’s clear that you’re passionate about your animals and knowledgeable about their care.
I would put too much stock in the 12% Persian, you can’t test for breeds in cats the same way as you can in dogs. Wisdom Panel is great for health and trait testing but nonsense for breeds.
You can really see the Devon in his face in the picture you used for the test, though!
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aus that I always ALWAYS eat up are regency/nobility aus
but an au that I crave but haven't seen is a viking/nobility, but in the sense of "here is a random man I found injured in the woods... my new husband 😍" this feeds off the "I will give you everything I've ever had and more" yk
anon?? thank you for spreading the good word. this is genius and i am shocked it doesn't see more use. you could try this in a number of historical settings and different genres, combine it with different tropes, spin it several ways. also tasty as hell.
gives me strong courtly love vibes--that thing in Arthurian romances/literature; the whole "i am wholly devoted to you past the point of deep passionate romantic love all the way to worship, but can and will never touch you because our stations and other social factors keep us from consummating our relationship; however i will lay down my life for you at every conceivable opportunity and if anything happens to you there will be hell to pay a thousand times over" thing. big big Guinevere and Lancelot trope.
like the idea of you, noblewoman reader, finding this man injured in the woods--handsome man, but has some blood and dirt smeared on him and a wild look in his eye. something is off about him, you know it, but you ignore it because this poor thing hasn't eaten in weeks, he's injured, he ran his horse to death just to escape the circumstances that tried to follow him here. and because the moment you offer to help him instead of turning him in, he looks at you like you're heaven-sent. like an angel.
he lets you lead him by the hand back to town, back to your home (manor, castle, what have you). your friends, neighbors, ladies in waiting see him and almost panic. they're beside themselves trying to warn you about this frankly feral- and haunted-looking man who is gripping your hand like a lifeline but looks like he'll tear the throat out of anyone else who comes too close. you wave them off and take him inside, have a room prepared, a bath drawn, clothes bought. his guest room is nicer than most homes but he never seems to stay there. always seems to find his way back to wherever you are. lurks there until you call him closer to you. this causes everyone else give you a wide berth. that's fine with him.
later, you ask him where his home is and when he plans to return. you say you'll send him off with a new horse, with money, with nice things (things you hope he'll remember you by). instantly he swears his life to you because with you is his place now. you plead with him to reconsider, doesn't he have a family, someone who misses him, didn't he leave anything behind--but he refuses to talk about where he came from. he refuses to talk about what brought him to those woods in the first place, what made him desperate enough to leave his earthly belongings behind and run his horse to death.
he gives his life to you. motherfucker is scary as all hell but he looks at you like he'd die and kill for you. and he would. and he will.
bonus points if you're already married to a man who doesn't treat you well and your new knight/bodyguard immediately knows he'll be solving that problem shortly <3
...
masterlist tag
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43 and 67 for Marina please :)
Thank you for the prompts! This one is for prompt 67, I hope you like it. I seem to be falling into a pattern of writing domestic!Marina, please send help. 😜
>>>>>>>>>>
They fall into a new routine when they move into their house.
Most of it centres around Liam, of course. Six o’clock rolls around and they bathe him, a competition to see who can make him giggle more as they splash the water around him. Once he is wrapped up in his towel, they share the cuddles as the other reads him a bedtime story, before dressing him in one of his many onesies and settling him in his crib.
Their evenings are spent tidying and doing laundry and making lists – what some people would find mundane, but fills Maya with happiness that she gets to do this, when she so nearly lost it all. On the nights when there are no chores to do, they pour over the plans drawn up by their architect, choosing what kind of open plan kitchen-diner they want, whether the walls should be tiled or painted, and what kind of colour scheme they want.
Sleep is still interrupted by Liam’s night-time feed for now, although Carina is convinced he will soon start to ween himself off them. Maya is the first out of bed on the nights she is home, knowing that Carina has to carry the burden alone during her night shifts.
Liam never wakes early, a good sleeper like his mamma, and Maya doesn’t rush out of the door for an early morning run any more, knowing that the quiet hour between 6.00am and 7.00am is typically reserved for just the two of them, before Liam’s whimpers drag them out of bed.
Their mornings feel more frantic these days. Their house, nestled within a small family-orientated community on east side of Seattle, is a fifteen minute commute into the city on a good day, usually longer – not taking into account the diversion they do when Liam is spending the day with Peggy and Dayna.
Their favourite mornings are the days when their work patterns align and neither one of them has to work. They bring Liam into bed with them, watching as their comforter becomes a playground for his toys and books and music.
On days like today, when Carina is the only one of them heading to work, Maya watches from the bed as Carina sits at her new vanity unit to fix her hair and apply her make-up, with Liam on her lap as she soaks up his cuddles before she has to leave. Maya listens as Carina chats away to him in Italian, determined that he will learn her native language as he grows up. She smiles as Liam looks up at his mamma with adoration, enraptured by her voice, his little hands grasping her dark brown hair. She can’t blame him, Maya is just as enamoured by her wife.
“Amelia said she would babysit on Friday night,” Carina says, interrupting her thoughts. “I thought we could try out the new Korean place by the water, what do you think?”
“Sounds perfect,” Maya says with a smile. “Do you think she’d want to have Liam overnight too?”
A wiggle of her eyebrows tells Carina what she is thinking and she watches as Carina’s chest rumbles with laughter, eliciting a giggle from Liam too.
“Maybe next time.”
Maya intends to hold her to that. A ping from the bedside table distracts her and she reaches for her phone, pulling up a message from Andy. Her heart sinks when she reads it. The wildfires that they thought were receding have grown stronger, making their way towards Seattle with vengeance and Maya is pretty sure it will only be a couple of days before 19 is called out to assist in the efforts to contain it.
She thinks back to the wildfires in Los Angeles that they fought a few years ago. It was a time she doesn’t think of often these days: when Sullivan was captain and the team was grieving the loss of Ripley; when Andy had only just forgiven her for hooking up with Jack and Travis was in a police cell for getting into a fight at Joe’s.
When Pruitt was alive. And Dean. And Ryan.
Before Carina, when talk of marriage and babies would have made Maya scoff and laugh, brushing it off as something that other people did.
Before she came to terms with the traumas of her past, when she believed in her father’s lesson to embrace the pain and found comfort in the clouds.
Before her priorities shifted and she realised what was truly important to her.
It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the memories remain vivid. She remembers the way her skin felt sticky and hot, and how her lungs filled with smoke, and the panic she felt when Andy and Sullivan were lost outside as the flames took over the house they were seeking shelter in. It was a time when a hero’s death didn’t scare her the way it does now, the fear of leaving Carina and Liam and the possibility of a baby growing in her wife’s belly constantly on her mind.
She shakes it off, refusing to let it plague her.
“I was going to pick up tickets for the zoo for next weekend,” she says instead. “I thought Liam might like to see the lions and tigers, since he loves watching next door’s cat so much.”
They both know he’s too young for the experience but they have a pact to make as many happy memories as possible, to fill photobooks to show him when he is older.
Carina smiles. “I love that idea.”
Maya swings her legs out of bed and pads across the room, pulling out some clean clothes from the dresser.
“I’m gonna jump in the shower before you head out.”
As she passes them, she runs her finger across Liam’s cheek, grinning when he reaches out to wrap his tiny fingers around it. She lets him hold it as she dips her head and draws Carina into a kiss, pressing her lips hard against Carina’s mouth, as if trying to leave an imprint.
“I thought I’d have another go at making lasagna for dinner,” she says when she pulls back.
“Hmm, should I tell Teddy that I’ll be sick tomorrow?” Carina teases.
Maya pokes her shoulder playfully as she pretends to be offended. “Ha ha.”
She is half way into the bathroom when Carina calls out her name, her question making Maya pause in the doorway.
“Maya? Every morning you kiss my forehead before I leave for work, why was it my lips today?”
Carina is looking at her with such softness that Maya feels her stomach flip. She doesn’t want to tell her about the wildfires, not yet; doesn’t want to burst this bubble they are living in. She gives a little shrug instead.
“Because I wanted to. Because your lips are my favourite thing to kiss.”
She looks at the small boy in Carina’s arms.
“Sorry Liam.”
He doesn’t look bothered, more interested in fitting his small fist into his mouth. When she looks up, Carina is holding out her free hand, encouraging Maya closer.
“Then you should come back and kiss them again.”
Maya’s smile widens and she complies willingly, dropping her clothes on the bed before accepting Carina’s outstretched hand, letting herself be pulled back into the cocoon of her family. She cups Carina’s face and kisses her again, feeling the soft moan that escapes from her wife as she runs her tongue over her bottom lip – another happy memory etched in her mind.
#station 19#maya bishop#carina deluca#station 19 fanfiction#my fanfiction#fluff prompt list#mayasdeluca
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Previous | Beginning | Next
(Transcript under the cut - Click Pics for HQ Version!)
@thebrixtons
Magnolia House, Holan (10:58pm)
Alfie (text message): I’m home. I’ll wait for you in the living room. Don’t come home too late.
Alfie: You’re home early. I thought you’d stay at the party longer.
Catalina: Huh? Oh. Wasn’t in the mood for it. I’m tired.
Alfie: Are you okay? Do you feel sick?
Catalina: I’m fine. Just really really tired.
Alfie: Let’s get inside then. I’ll run a hot bath for you. We can watch Simflix tonight too if you want.
Catalina: That sounds great. You’re a lifesaver.
Alfie: *chuckles* I try, my dear.
Catalina: What’s on the menu?
Alfie: “Crash Landing on You”, “Dr. Cha”, “King the Land”, and-or “The Red Sign”.
Catalina: Isn’t that Carlos’ movie? I thought we already watched it.
Alfie: Yeah, this one is the sequel to “The Red Dress”. We haven’t watched it yet.
Catalina: Hmm, we can go for that one then.
Alfie: Aight. Your wish is my command~
Catalina: *inhales deeply*
Alfie: What are you doing?
Catalina: Nothing. You smell good by the way. Are you using a new cologne?
Alfie: I didn’t. It’s just the shower gel you got me last Winterfest. I’ve been using it everyday.
Catalina: Really? I never noticed it before.
Alfie: L-Lina—
Catalina: Shhh~
Alfie: Y-you said you were tired.
Catalina: I don’t feel tired anymore.
Alfie: But the movie—
Catalina: We can watch it later. I want you, now.
Alfie: Wait, hold on—
*rustling sounds from the kitchen*
Alfie: *yawns* Lina?
Catalina: Alfie? Did I wake you?
Alfie: Yeah. It’s four in the morning. What are you doing up?
Catalina: Sorry. I was just very hungry. I had to look for something to eat.
Alfie: You could’ve woke me up. I can make something for you.
Catalina: You seemed tired. I didn’t want to bother you.
Alfie: It’s not a bother. Next time just wake me up.
Catalina: Hm, okay.
Alfie: You’ve been acting weird lately.
Catalina: Why’d you say that?
Alfie: First of all, what we did earlier…rarely happens when you’re “tired”. And second of all, you’re eating my onigiri. I thought you hate sushi.
Catalina: Onigiri is not sushi.
Alfie: Okay, but you don’t usually like onigiri too.
Catalina: Whatever. I’m hungry, okay? We don’t really have any leftovers from yesterday.
Catalina: What? Why are you looking at me like that?
Alfie: Sorry. I was just thinking.
Catalina: About what?
Alfie: About what Dira told me. She said you’ve been getting stuff you don’t usually do when you guys went out to eat. And she told me that you complained about your chest being tight at the fitting too?
Catalina: Urgh. It’s nothing. She’s just overthinking it.
Alfie: Is she though?
Catalina: Alfie, everyone in our family knows we’re trying for a baby now. So they could be seeing these “symptoms” as a sign because they’re excited.
Alfie: I mean, what if they’re right?
Catalina: But what if it’s not? I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.
Alfie: It doesn’t hurt to try, right?
Alfie: Look, I know you don’t want to disappoint anyone. I understand that.
Alfie: But it wouldn’t hurt for you to get a test and check it first. If it’s positive, great! We’re having a baby. But if it’s negative, it’s okay. We can try again.
Catalina: I…I’m scared.
Alfie: I’ll be there with you. I promise.
Catalina: Can you give me some time before I check it? I still have a few days before my period is supposed to come. I don’t want to jump the gun yet.
Alfie: Of course. If that makes you feel better.
#ts4#sims story#sims storytelling#ts4 story#sims 4 story#ts4 storytelling#sims 4 storytelling#ts4 royal#ts4 simblr#ts4 legacy#ts4 edit#ts4 roleplay#ts4 screenshots#WRTStory#WRT: Part 3#Story Arc: After Ever After#WRTCollab: Alfina#Sim: Alfie#Sim: Catalina
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I want to see Edwina and Fran interact! They do seem like they would get along really well! Maybe they hung out before Edwina left to get married? Before Kate's honeymoon?
Wait, yess!! My perfectionist girlies!!
Aubrey Hall was stifling for Francesca. To go from the quiet of Kildare and Bath and now she was back with her rambunctious, loving family.
She really liked her new in-laws. Kate was warm and fun and deeply in love with her brother. They would be departing for their honeymoon soon and hopefully the excitement would die down.
Unfortunately, her family were extremely animated and she ducked into the library whilst a wild game of Pall Mall took place.
She was mildly surprised to see Edwina Sharma in the library, sitting in a corner, her head in a book. The younger Sharma sister was so polite, so quiet and distant.
"It is nice to get some quiet, is it not?" Francesca said.
Edwina looked up and blinked twice, shutting her book and smiled warmly at her.
"Indeed." Edwina agreed.
Francesca sat down on the bench next to her. "I can only imagine how awkward this must be for you." She continued bluntly, "I think you are brave. It takes courage, to do as you did. To run from unhappiness."
She had not noticed Edwina's expression shift to one that she would describe as amused confusion and worried about what she had said.
"I do apologise-"
"No. No. Do not apologise. It is nice that someone will speak plainly with me." Edwina quickly said, smiling tightly.
Francesca smiled, relieved, "I find it easier to do so."
"You may not enjoy the season, then." Edwina said quietly but Francesca heard her.
"Do you still think of marriage?" Francesca asked curiously.
Edwina looks thoughtful, "I do still want to marry."
"Of course. But I mean to ask, what do you believe one should look for?" Francesca clarified. She felt someone who had been through what she had would have a clearer idea compared to Eloise who hated the idea of a man approaching her.
"Marriage is a gamble, I find. I think that finding someone who respects you is far better. When they respect you, they see you as a person. Not an object to be won nor a jewel to possess." Edwina mused, "I should like my respect returned but I cannot see that happening in London. A shame, for I loved the city." She murmured.
Francesca was confused because she understood that Edwina would be staying in London.
"I agree with that. I do not think my mama does. Love is tricky. People are even trickier, I feel." Francesca said, "I prefer the pianoforte. Or cats."
Edwina smiled but it was sweet, not condescending, "Cats are far more preferable to most people." They shared a smile.
"Perhaps we may hide in ballrooms together?" Francesca suggested and Edwina opened her mouth to reply then stopped, "Have I spoken out of turn again?"
Edwina shook her head, "Not at all, Francesca. No, it is just that... If you may keep this to yourself?" Francesca nodded, "I will not be in London,
"But why not?" Francesca wondered.
Edwina smiled sadly, "An offer has come up. One I do not want to refuse and I think it shall be a fresh start for me. To leave all of the pain and gossip behind."
Edwina leaned over, taking her hand, "I do believe you will have a good season, Francesca. I wish you the very best of luck. You shall need it."
#m's fluffy nights#drabble#bridgerton#francesca bridgerton#edwina sharma#they would get along so well#one shot#one diamond to another
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WHY DO THEY WANT TO SLEEP IN THEIR FORMULA BOWL?! ARE Y'ALL TRYNA DROWN?? Please learn how to eat without wearing most of it all over your body. 😭 The amount of baths I have to give them currently...
#mice posting#q-tip baths of course#thinking i need more than just water for those baths now because they are determined to be sticky with milk#but i need to figure out wtf kinda soap/shampoo is safe for baby mice first#the good news is that they seem to like baths now#they did not when their eyes were closed#but now they just settle into my hand and fall asleep while i take my time cleaning them off as well as i can#need to find an extra mascara brush or something to brush them too#i was not intentionally trying to hand tame them because ive been worried that will make them less likely to survive when released#but because of how much i have to handle them for baths and had to handle them for feedings before their eyes opened#it's just... happening anyway#cry#please properly retain your survival instincts and healthy fear of large animals little ones#also the 'bowl' referred to in this post is the cap off a dasani water bowl#not an actual bowl#because they would definitely manage to drown themselves in that
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I think so many people are so deeply alienated from themselves that they have no clue how to exercise their free will and autonomy. For some, this alienation runs so deep that they are afraid of their own autonomy and humanity. It is completely understandable why one would have those feelings, but it can be worrisome.
I want to help others who feel this way, so here are small things I have done to exercise my free will:
Add "guilty pleasure" songs to playlists and actually listen to them (I have a ton of late 1990s-early 2000s music I listen to now proudly that I never listened to in the past out of shame)
Getting the décor item, bath set, bed spread, ect. in the patterns you like, even if it's "childish" (I got a dinosaur-themed wastebasket from the kids' décor section and I adore it)
Taking a new route to get to a place you go to often
Eat dessert first
Celebrate well, and often
Collect things that are "odd" or don't seem like an "acceptable" thing to collect (somebody on my "for you" page collects dandelion crayola crayons and it was so cool!!!!!!)
Incorporate one new piece in an outfit you wear frequently (e.g., a new chain, a necklace, ribbons, bracelets, ect.). Challenge yourself to add onto the outfits if you feel up for it.
Sing along to songs without worrying that you sound "good" or your intonation is completely accurate
Read a book from a genre you weren't allowed to read as a kid (comics, thrillers, mysteries, anything!)
Walk without having a specific destination or goal
Pick up a new craft without expecting yourself to master it or to ever be "good" enough. Get your hands messy.
I don't want to shame anybody for not feeling as though they have free will or that they are exempt from exercising it. However, I wanted to give ideas so that you might read this list and find your own ways to express your intrinsic autonomy and will. You deserve to be a person, to feel alive, not just living. That is what our lives are for.
#mental health#mental health support#positivity#if anybody has ideas of their own definitely include them!#i just think being stuck with this feeling that you don't have autonomy and that you ultimately aren't an equal person or a person at all..#...in comparison to other people can be a really troubling and dangerous place to be in...#...and that isn't the person's fault for feeling that way. they didn't pluck those thoughts out of thin air...#...like i have felt that exact way all my LIFE because i have been abused for. probably 2/3s of my life...#...only within these past few years have i even FELT alive. frankly it's going to take a while to repair what i have been left with...#...so i know the feeling and i want to help others feel even a LITTLE bit alive. you deserve it...#...you deserve to take in a deep breath before slowly realizing 'oh my gd this is what it feels like to be alive' and SMILE about it#i want that for you even if it is brief. even if it is small. even if it is a whisper. i want you to feel alive#unironically getting rid of the idea of 'guilty pleasures' has made my life SO much better
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‘STRAWBERRY KISSES’
sub/top!a. anderson x dom/bottom!reader
cw: tribbing, ejaculating strapon (r. receiving), breeding kink, squirting, dove fucking, scent kink, r. is a parent, standing oral, slight impact play/face slapping (a. receiving), asphyxiation, lactation
MINORS DNI
summary: “real cowgirls ride pussy” and that’s exactly what abby did. who would’ve thought a respected farmer could be a pathetic slut? muscly, big and strong, all to be treated like a fucktoy under your hands.
a/n: this fic is by far one of the most lackluster fics ive probably written. it’s not that great in my opinion and i feel as though it ran in circles… i had been hesitant to post this for some time and had no clue how to end it so it’s a bit abrupt. this fic is almost just pure smut… really long and i over did it just a tad… id also like to apologize… it’s probably so all over the place… it’s been a long while since ive written anything and i don’t think this fic is as great as i tried to make it. nonetheless, i hope you end up enjoying.
that pretty girl abby in her cowboy hat, in those tight blue jeans that hugged her thighs just right, muscles bulging from its fabric and a rusted silver big buckled belt with roses carved into its metal, stood in front of your doorstep. the tap of her heel at your wooden porch with a smile that wore prettily across her lips, crate in hand full of fresh produce hand grown by her. corn, strawberries, apricots and tomatoes, all plump and in season. it was a surprise being greeted by her on your second day moving in. yeah there were others from the town who said their hi’s and goodbyes, some with buttered biscuits or a fresh lemon meringue pie that hadn’t been that well made came to welcome you too, but with her, it was different.
it wasn’t often to see a woman of her stature walking around the city you used to live in— she was built, big and broad, back confidently raised tall in a shirt that ripped at its sleeves showing every vein that ran up her toned freckled, sun kissed arms. on days you’d see her riding horses, galloping as her golden braid fluttered in the thick summer air or even a lasso in hand, things that you saw in movies that you hadn’t even thought twice about. she looked strong and able, independent, attractive, and alluring— even by the sound of her voice contrasting from her strong appearance with a gentle twang in every syllable she spoke.
you were used to the bright neon lights in the night’s city, honking horns and prolonged profanity being thrown back and forth outside of your window to now be surrounded by haybells, horses, clucking chickens and a sun that only ever burned down as if it had been summer year round. the switch was a culture shock and all the country side folk made you feel like you had been living here for years— smiling faces, waves as you rode up into your dirt driveway, seeing all the cows in the distance chewing on the brightest grass you possibly ever saw.
it was nice. through the few months you’ve lived here and growing more accustomed, you made a couple friends along the way. with their boasting charm and positive attitude, you were almost always involved in anything the town had gathered, like being invited to little events in the town— learning the ways of how the people tended their fun; good tasting beer, games and activities you never thought existed or took the time to take part in, like corn bathing or horse shoe throwing. socializing with other mother’s, talking about the shared stress you all experienced or new recipes that you ended up trying to make. even still, you felt a bit out of place at times. your clothes never matching with the attire the others had or their lingo being hard to comprehend, yet the cute accents they spewed whenever they spoke made you giggle warmly. they didn’t seem to mind when you’d ask what they meant when it came to the slang, catching on and using ‘y’all’ as a part of your daily speech. you’d let your kid play amongst other’s their age, finding solace in the open spaces they were able to roam and waddle through— seeing them come home with grass scuffs at the knees of their pants and dirtied palms.
not being too far from abby’s domain, she was well known in the town— inheriting her family’s farm and business as a full time farm worker, handing in fresh fruits, vegetables and cows milk to the monthly market. the anderson’s— you saw it etched in a wooden sign not too far from where you stayed, seeing a red wooden barn out in the distance beside a big pretty white house. she was a woman of business, hands gripping any tool with a grunt that echoed in the air as she puts herself to work.
the day before your initial move in, she saw you and the group of movers helping you gather all the furniture inside with your white summer dress that held against your womanly rounded frame, all frustrated in the face for how hot it had been. she smiled to herself, not seeing many people like you around here. city living people that is. it was adorable. a pretty thing like you didn’t belong in a place like this. filled with dirt and cattle and a body language that didn’t match up to the people that made up of this town— them wearing nothing but flannels and dirtied jeans. the women reeking of cigarettes as the men smelt like cigars all while spitting out peach pits and sunflower seeds.
it was already tradition to grant a new neighbor a gift when they first arrived— nicknacks and baked goods, books, canned food or peanuts. since abby was already getting produce to give to the market in the morning, it was best to give you a taste of what she was good at, wanting to get a real good look at you up close— hear how you talk, admire your body as you moved and see how you’d react to a gesture as big as a big crate of fresh home grown goods. it met all her expectations, seeing the beauty you held within your stare and the exotic nature of your frame, watching your eyes grow wide, replacing that tired and worn expression with a heartfelt one.
thick, sweet and velvety— she told you her name with a curl at the corner of her rose colored lips, tilting the tip of her cowboy hat. her golden hair tied into a tight braid that laid against her freckled shoulder and a hand clasping at her buckle. “it’s nice’ta see a new face round here.” she smiled triumphantly with her eyes gleaming with satisfaction, glazing over you as you held the crate that was once in her hands.
“i couldn’t take all of this.” you scoffed in amazement, noticing how there was not a dimple or bruise in sight on any of the produce.
“there’s not a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fit, hon.” she laughed, “it’s a welcomin’ gift. it’s my job to grow all this, don’t want it’ta go all to waste.” noticing how her accent slipped so elegantly as she spoke.
the image of her rested in your mind the entire day, placing all what she gave you in its respectable place, using some for the night’s dinner. it came out rich, juicy and complimented the meat you had made to go alongside it— feeling yourself moan with each bite as your lips drag over the silver of your fork. never have you have something that tasted so good. back home in grocery stores, you were so used to the over produced fruits and vegetables that you never got to taste what produce was really supposed to taste like.
as the days continue and you gave her your millionth thanks for her gift. she replaced her ‘you’re welcome’ with her presence— always being near when she wasn’t busy, coming whenever you needed help. if you needed someone to lift something heavy, there she was, if you needed something from the market, she’d tell you she was already on her way, if you needed help watching your kid, she was right there. no matter if she had been working all day in the sun— wearing sweat like a compressed shirt, coating her arms and face until it dripped from the underside of her chin, and dirt that seeped itself in the thick of her pants as if it had been bought that way— she was right there and that alone attracted you. she had an alluring personality with an even more charming presence that couldn’t go unnoticed, showing you around the town, or showing your kid to her barn, letting them see all the farm animals— petting the cows and horses, feeding the chickens, watching the pigs as they roll around in the mud— or even let them run down in her field. you presented them with freshly squeezed lemon juice and sandwiches as you watched from afar, staring in awe, not understanding how someone can be so genuine with their kindness.
you couldn’t lie, the view of her working was nice. your excuse to be near her was just as good as hers, making it a ritual to pass by when going to the market right around the time you knew she’d be out in the field. you’d catch her in her sports bar, getting a hold of the way her arms and back muscles flexed with the elastic of her boxer briefs peaking out from her pants— a thin line of hair following up to her belly button and freckles that scattered all over her arms and chest.
being the socialite she was, beer in hand with women flocking to her like fruit on flies, she’d laugh having them hang off her arms, fleeting eyes, talking about how impressed they were during the horse race that you unfortunately hadn’t been able to see. there was a slight film of jealousy that ran through your body, understanding why those women gave her attention but after all the days you’ve gotten to know her and the way she’d help you or even talk to you, you’ve grown a liking towards her.
abby could say the same. you hadn’t noticed when other farm workers placed their interests, seeing you as a fine piece of butchered meat, pristine and cut and hung in the most favorable way.
she didn’t want that. she wanted you all to yourself, adoring the relief on your face whenever she had a task done or the way you’d laugh after saying a joke or two, doing the usual head tilt when she left, eyes bouncing from your face until it lined all the way down your body. sneaking a hand at the side of your waist while passing by, inhaling the sweet spritz of your perfume that you wore or the sight of your ass in your jeans, finger in its pants loop, slighting jumping as you fixed them. nothing could top getting a tease of your panties whenever you bent down— that you may or may not’ve done on purpose— while wearing a dress. riling her up seeing the numerous pairs you wore, making the innards of her legs moisten and her heart race, keeping a visual memory of the blue lace you once wore or the lilac pair she last seen in the hamper in your downstairs bathroom that she shamelessly took.
it was memento. an unspoken thank you given by you, taken into her care. laid in her bed, she sprawled herself against her mattress, seeing the embroidered shapes in its cloth, remembering how it’d spread and cupped your ass. keeping in memory how you sheepishly pulled down at the dress’s fabric like you hadn’t known that you teased her with a beautiful, lustrous sight. she couldn’t help herself— you invited her in— trying to keep her indulgences tame each time she got a glimpse of your panties or the way your breasts sat in any shirt that you wore. she thought about your thighs and how they pressed together as you stood or whenever you sat down and how they expanded, thinking of whenever you were aroused and the mess you’d make in your panties and if they’d bunch at your folds or maybe even at your ass.
she’d take the panties to her nose, taking in your scent while rolling her fingers at her clit— pressing it against her lips and soaking them with her spit as she tried so desperately to let your taste linger. sopping wet, she’d let it bunch as she rubbed herself with it on her clit, grunting moans filtering her bedroom while her eyes closed themselves to remember the image of you— the simplicity in the way your tight shirt lifted and the skin that peaked just above your jeans, or even the way your jeans rolled at the folds of your hips. she’d hump the air, feet planted on her mattress as she pressed your panties roughly at her pussy.
and to think it all started off with a small hi and crate, inviting her to taste your sandwiches and apple pies, coming every few weeks or so, to her coming every week then almost every day— making it harder and harder to resist you and the need to be beneath your skin. to touch you, knead you, hear how you’d sound. now all that crowded her vision was her fucking you— digging her fingers into one of your dresses and tearing it off your body just to see how your panties really looked on you and how’d they’d look off. each breath painted the picture with the help of her entering your bedroom, keeping that in thought after you had asked for help to move your dresser. she thought about your body against hers, hand pressed down in the center of your shoulder blades, hips rolling deeply into you that had been hugged by her harness.
“you’re so nice.” you’d always tell her, sighing out a pleasant sigh whenever you got the chance.
“of course sugar.” she sang, her voice lustful and bright, “always nice to give a little, specially when a pretty woman is in need.”
“oh hush.” you laughed playfully while she leaned up against your doorframe— suspenders at the sides of her hips, hair undone from its braid and a hand tucked in the back of her pocket.
“it’s true. i don’t mind when’ya ask me of things, miss. i like helpin’ out. you’re so hardworkin’ and such’a good mama… the way you cook too? my god, it’s delicious.”
the sun rested against her frame like a glowing halo, taking the time to notice all the good deeds this woman has given you. no other has been this kind or dependable, being active in your child’s life as well as still have time to do all that needed to be done to maintain their business. it amazed you as well as excite you, coming to realization that abby’s eyes weren’t just kind but perverted. you had met your match.
every glance felt like she was studying you— the dark pools in her eyes expanded as the blue ring that surrounded, disappeared. they penetrated deep within your body, coddling your flesh like her plaything. feeling like a bee sting as her pupils prickled down your body. each time her tongue ran against the many cracks of her bottom lip, it was as if you could feel its flat bed roughly roll against your breasts, teeth grazing against your perked nipples with the subtle touches of her calloused hands sending shivers down your spine and towards your clit.
“i like to give back to deserving people.” you reply, your voice switching to an evident teasing tone that struck at her confidence, making her gather herself as she cleared her throat.
“there’s no need for that.” she smiled, her head lowering as the heel of her boot turned at your welcoming mat, “just cause i help ya out, don’t mean you have’ta physically give me anythin’ back. quality time is good’a nough for me.”
“is that so?” you chirped, hand now at your hip, letting the quiet ambiance of the distant bird chirp fill the comforting silence, “if that’s case, come back tomorrow, im going to make more strawberry tarts, you seemed to like those last time i made them. they’ll be in school tomorrow, so itll just be us if you don’t mind. we can have more ‘quality time’.”
“oh?” she smiled, biting down at her bottom lip, trying to hide the excitement that rose in the center of her chest, “yes… yes ma’am, i mean, i dont mind at all…us. i mean, it just being us… tomorrow. yeah… tomorrow then.” her well known confident demeanor demolished with you noticing her struggle to let out her words.
cute.
•••
morning approached, the blue sky and yellow sun swelling through the windowpanes as the sweet smell of strawberries filled the aroma. twenty minutes to nine, abby’s knuckle was in meet with the front of your door. there was nothing wrong with being a little early, she thought— unless there was a chance she could’ve been too early or maybe seen as too desperate?
she laid restless in her bed the night before trying to think of the many reasons as to why you had asked her to come over. yeah, you did say you were baking tarts and you wanted quality time but what did that entail? it wasn’t as if you and her had much alone time since your kid was either present or in the house alongside you both. it seemed odd, taste testing tarts without her doing the usual tasks you’d ask her to do. seemed too good to be true.
yet she was excited nonetheless, expecting nothing but positive due to how cheerful you always seemed around her. bashful stares and a warm conversation, it flowed nicely. just as nice as the pasta you made that last tuesday, the sauce being thick and not too runny and aged grated cheese to go on top of well boiled penne pasta.
smelling of cologne, she dressed all nice in her thick blue jean jacket— a yellow patch woven into the shoulder— and another one of her hats that was a warm tan that looked soft to the touch. her hair in its usual braid seeing how every strand had its own shade of blonde with two stands that flowed softly against her freckled face. “wow.” she sighed, eyeing the black dress you ended up wearing that she hadn’t seen before. it clasped at your hip dips, with the imprint of your stomach showing so cutely at its fabric— she wished she could touch. it was short, stopping mid-thigh and with each time you walked, you’d have to tug at its bottom as it rose and rippled at your waist. cut at its collar so your cleavage was on full display, wearing one of your bras that gave them more of a push. “hi…there.” she smiled, tipping the side of her hat like she had always done before. “you sure clean up real nice… shit.”
“why thank you, so do you.” you replied, making it evident that you adored her attire with the way your eyes glazed against her boxy frame. “you’re early.” your hand holding the side of the door, noticing the nervousness abby wore in the tone of her voice. it was cute, even cuter with how she looked like she tried so hard to look good for you— the scent of her so welcoming and her so neatly dressed.
“oh! m’ sorry, if’ya need me to come back later, i definitely would. just thought that… ya’ know… i didn’t think it would be much of a-“
“no… no.” you interrupted with a laugh, “you’re so cute. it’s alright. come inside, the tarts are almost done anyways.”
your house was warm and quiet, free of the nursery rhymes that usually played on the living room tv. there were no toys scattered about and alongside the sweet smell of the baking tarts was a slight film of cleaning products. it was gentle, the ambience of the morning’s music filling your ears as you hum a lulling tune. strawberries and sugar entering the airwaves with nice conversations being made, clock ticking moving closer to the tarts being done and ready to be tasted.
she sat down on the stool of your kitchen’s island, mouth watering at the sight of the tarts as they had been placed on a plate and set on the countertop. “now… tell me if these are good. i tried doing them a little different. the neighbor down the way said it’s best if i don’t use to much sugar so you’d able to taste more of the strawberries. unless you have a sweet tooth, i can make more with more sugar.” you chirped, wiping your hands at the apron that had been tied at your waist you ended taking off and placing it on a hook in your kitchen.
taking one, abby didn’t hesitate to eat, humming a pleased hum as she nodded her head, eyebrows furrowing. “this is real good.” she said, mouth full of the tart, licking the tips of her fingers, “i don’t usually eat tarts, but if i were’a professional, id give it’a A+.”
“aren’t you just a charmer, abby.”
she smiled at the compliment. abby was a natural flirt, everyone knew this. she talked to women like it was a sport without even realizing her intentions. it didn’t help that her voice alone was seductive, supple and flowy by default. it didn’t take long for you to take interest in it after the first few moments of speaking to her— not caring about accents until you heard hers. each word was like a melody, needing to have it played beside your nightstand on your bed.
“well…” she hummed taking another bite, wiping the side of her mouth with her thumb, “a woman who knows how’ta bake is a dangerous lil thing.”
you laughed, “a dangerous ‘little thing’.” you repeated lowly, admiring the way she indulged your food, hearing her muffled chatter. “and why is that?”
“you never heard the sayin’?” grabbing another tart, “the one bout’a happy belly?”
rolling your eyes, you start to put all the leftover ingredients back where they belonged, rag in hand and wiping the left over sugar and flour that sprinkled on top of the counters, “so you’re saying i make good food?”
“don’t be silly. of course, miss. im sayin’ more than that. fuck, if id’a known you were this talented, i would’a invited myself for dinner every night if you’d let me.” she replied honestly, her voice coming out softer before drinking the glass of water you left beside the tart’s plate. “a nice dinner… and dessert.”
“in that case, the offer is on the table.” turning to face her seeing her politely wipe her mouth. “you’re usually present during the lunch i make.”
“how could i not? you make’a mean sandwich and dont get me started on that one time you made— oh uhm miss…you got’a little…” pointing at your breast, a small wet patch being shown. you had leaked. it happened pretty often and youd always get so embarrassed every single time. it’d happen in the most random moments and especially in public. there was nothing satisfying about having a wet shirt as you roamed through the grocery store or even in the past when having dinner dates with online meetups your friends swore worked— everyone would make notice with them seeming just as embarrassed as you were, but you just groaned. shamelessly trying to look sexy for abby all to be leaking through right as she arrived.
“fuck, why now?” your fingers running along the wet patch as if magically it would disappear. “im sorry… this always happens when i don’t want it to.”
“oh!” abby swallowed, her eyes widening as she shook her hands, “no, no! it’s nothin’ you got’a be embarrassed about… it happens, sweetheart.” she spoke with her voice trembling like in any way she made the situation worse yet she hadn’t. looking at her, you noticed how frequently she blushed and how easy it was for her to get flustered. your mind spoke loudly to you as you thought of the many ways to make her puddle at your feet— it was what you deserved anyway. a single mother that hadn’t been given this type of attention since before you knew you were pregnant, having nothing but lack luster sexual encounters that didn’t even grant you a good enough orgasm. just from her reactions alone made your body tingle— this big, buff woman acting all shy in front of you. trying to be so kind and respectful with her use of ‘miss’ and ‘ma’am’.
“you see stuff like this a lot?” you tease, taking a towel to continuously wipe at the fabric you knew wouldn’t dry but you tried nonetheless.
abby chuckled, her warm tongue rolling at the bottom of her pouted lip. there shouldn’t be anything alluring about seeing you leak through your dress, but to her, her perverted mind thought quicker and her body felt itself wash with a film of arousal. “no… its my first time actually. but i dont see why it’d be much of an issue.”
looking up, you notice her eyes and how she obliviously stared at the stain on your breasts. “you think so?” rolling your tongue in the inner of your cheek, you chuckle quietly as you hummed. “in that case…would you like a taste?”
abby choked on her spit, her eyes widening, getting a better sight of the blue and her growing pupils. the question was abrupt and she had no way to prepare how she could react. “taste…? im… m’ sorry miss… i dont think’a understand.”
“yeah, taste. haven’t you ever wondered what it tasted like? ive tried it. it’s a bit sweet, maybe even sweeter than those tarts.” your hands cupping at your full breasts, squeezing lightly as you felt yourself continue to leak from your nipples— the wet patch expanding. abby couldn’t do anything but sit there, hypnotized with how they oozed from it’s collar and the way you let yourself mess up more of your dress. “seems like you like it. does the sight of leaking and the thought of tasting me get you all hot and bothered?”
“you fuck’n tease…” she chuckled, enjoying the way you spoke to her. every woman she encountered had never dared to speak to her that way. seeing her as nothing but a woman of control rather than someone who could be controlled— take her as she is and put her in her place, knowing all what to say, what do do and how it should be done. abby hadn’t thought about it to know if that’s something she’d enjoy. but now, with the view of your hands fondling your breasts and the slow whispers that hummed in the air, asking her questions that you both knew what the answer would be made her more wet than she thought she could get, “you ain’t gotta ask… you’re a fine woman… how can i not?”
“oh am i?” you hummed, “i just like the way you react to me.”
“and, how do i react to you?” abby’s voice entranced by you and whatever move you made.
“well… when i compliment your work ethic… telling you how hard it must be, how draining… yet a strong woman like you? it must be easy for you, yeah? all the poor weak men who try to do what you do look like amateurs. but you, miss abigail anderson, you look so determined and sexy… fuck, how sweaty you get and how… your body… flexes… makes me want to let you take me right there on that dirty field and fuck me.” never leaving her eyes, your finger drags along the countertop of the island that separated you both, one foot in front of the other, making your way towards her slowly. she felt herself burn with anticipation, her golden glow washing a faint red at her nose, cheeks and the tips of her ears. frantic, her hands clutching at her buckle, then fixing her hat to pressing it’s palms down at her jeans to clean its sweat. “it’s odd.. ive been missing a few pairs of my underwear… do you think you know who’d take them? i mean… who would…?” you laughed sweetly, as you let your face lean closer towards abby who couldn’t even sit still in her chair— chest heaving, lips wet from the constant licking. “buuut, i think i have a pretty clear idea who could’ve took them. you thought you were so slick, but how could i not see a pair of purple panties poking through your pocket. tell me abby, what did you use it for?”
“m’sorry… i wasn’t thinkin’ they were just right there and i…”
“shhh no need for all that pretty girl.” you stood in front of her— seeing how her muscles craved through her jean jacket, and her hat slightly tilted down, unable to look at you, looking every which way as she felt her heart jolt with excitement. it wasn’t usual for her to act this way— get all nervous and tongue tied. your shamelessness got the best of her. it was abrupt, teasing and erotic, feeling her body burn with an intense desire to finally place those imaginations to reality.
you slid your finger at the underside of her chin, pressing your thumb just below her bottom lip. “look at me.” your voice in a hushed tone, lifting her face towards yours. she exhaled deeply, lips parting as if she was going to speak, but nothing followed.
“that’s it pretty girl… look at mommy… need to be able to see those pretty blue eyes.”
“shut your fuck’n mouth…” abby breathed with a smile forming on her lips, letting the word mommy wrap itself around her throbbing clit, rolling her hips down in the stool where she sat.
“why so snappy?” you coo teasingly, removing your hand from her face, placing both on top of hers that had been clasped against her jeans, slowly raising them until they were pressed at your breasts. “you’re the one stealing my panties… and your hips, they’re moving. my words are getting to you, aren’t they? i don’t think you really want me to.” you continued, abby’s eyes obedient as she watched the way yours study her body. her fingers mindlessly curling as she felt the softness of your breasts push in between every spaced out finger while feeling the roughness of her calloused palm. letting out a pleasured sigh, you ran your hands down the backs of her knuckles, then her wrists and her muscled forearms.
“miss…” she breathed, her clit vigorously thumping against the fabric of her briefs. the gentleness of your voice and breasts made her sink deeper into the stool, hands groping them tighter and harder, “you’re so fuckin’ sexy… keep talkin’ to me like that…”
“yeah, you like that? that’s it… you’re such a good girl aren’t you?” you tease, breaking the swelling silence that filled in between your shared gasps. “i see the way you’ve been looking at me… the way you talk to me. where’s all that confidence now, hm?”no response was given. it was as if this was the very first time abby had been left speechless.
“speak.” you demanded, quickly letting go of one arm to grip her jaw roughly, yanking her slightly closer as you bent down towards her face, “…speak.” you repeated, this time softly, lips just inches away from hers— letting yourself hover with gasps ghosting her lips, hearing a whimper fall from her own.
“shit.. you just make me nervous, miss… i can’t help ma’self… you’re just pretty as a picture.” she admitted, letting out a breath of shaky laughter. you stood up again, her blinking frantically thinking that you were going to kiss her, but you didn’t. not now at least. she let herself look down at your breasts to see them spilling from your black dress— your areolas peaking from the lace bra. “lord have mercy on me…” her eyebrows furrowed, gulping down harshly as she bit the bottom of her lip.
she was in trance with you, the way your body moved and molded even when she fondled with your breasts. her grip grew stronger, feeling the roughness in the prod of her fingers and feeling the wetness of your dress stick against her hands. “you want it, don’t you big girl?” you teased, “i know you’d know how to handle me… how to fuck me. show me abigail. let me see how a pretty woman like you can ruin me.”
a hand quickly pressed at the small of your back, pulling your body in between her legs as her lips latched onto your neck, her hat falling down onto the floor at the push of her forehead that tattooed the side of your jaw. open mouthed kisses running along its side and down to your collar bone letting her tongue run along your skin until her lips felt yours.
the intensity of her lips was strong and full, inhaling them into her mouth with you both trying to take lead. opened mouthed and husky breaths hugging one another’s tongues as your hand wraps itself at the back of her head. lips glistening as spit rolled down the sides of your mouths, chin and neck. she ran her tongue underneath yours before wrapping her lips around it’s muscles, suckling on it with a bobbing head.
pulling back to catch your breath, a smile crept on your lips, “open your fucking mouth..” you snarled playfully— her mouth ajar as you gathered spit and letting it fall at her tongue.
“ya’taste so good…” she couldn’t handle the absence of your mouth as she drank your spit, pushing you into her face as you study yourself back into the kiss. her thick muscle would roam inside of your mouth, spit bubbling and running from its sides, latching her lips and sucking up any that left.
her lips trailed down, fingers curling at the collar of your dress to yank its fabric down and hook it underneath your breasts, with the help of you unclipping your bra. now in her sight was your swollen nipples, wet and dripping and in need of release. she placed you inside of her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she felt your warm milk rush in the center of her tongue. eyes rolling back as she swallowed, your breasts being pushed into her face and nose while kneading them together as she sucked.
the taste of you was addictive, loving the watery yet thick texture you let out and how it felt as she swallowed it. leaning her head back, tugging at your nipple, she releases her latch, watching the way your breasts move so obnoxiously, “fuck you taste so good… can’t stop sayin’ that…” she exhaled, “and… and you’re just so goddamn hot i-“
she pushed your breasts together rougher, seeing the light sprinkle squirt out from your nipples, “i could cum just drinkin’ you…” sticking her tongue out as she aimed it into her mouth. it got all on the sides of her lips, the tip of her nose and chin, messing herself up and letting it fall down onto her lap. hurriedly she leaned back in, sucking on the other. each suck harder than the last, letting you fill her mouth, savoring it with every two to three sucks before she swallowed it all.
watching the way she seemed so desperate for more, the way her cheeks hollowed and expanded and her nasally inhales filled your ears with bliss as well as her velvety moans that vibrated and directed itself at your sore, sensitive nipples. your hand pressed at the back of her head, pushing her in closer, adoring the way her head bobbed as she sucked.
“oh you’re so cute… look at you, so fucking desperate for me.” you cooed, letting out a pleased laugh— her immediately feeling embarrassment wash over her entire being but her being able to finally taste you, feel you, indulge you was far more stronger. the look in her eyes were as if she was in need of you and only you, taking in every vowel you spoke, letting it cradle her clit. your soft thighs encapsulating the heat she exuded from her jeans, letting your knee touch right at her crotch. “you’re such a good girl… drinking from me. you like it don’t you?” you wince pleasantly, loving the sting of her harsh sucks at your irritated and hardened nipples.
nodding she removed her lips, running her tongue along the rim of her mouth when any of your milk started fell down her chin. “don’t tease me like that… won’t be able’ta control myself.”
“mm, yeah? keep sucking and show me how you’d lose yourself to me.” you demanded and she listened. the feeling of her sucks drove you to the brink of insanity— jolts of pleasure lining down your spine and up your thighs making you press your knee further into her jeans. her large hands exploring your womanly frame, grasping onto your ass as your dress began to hitch up your thighs— the tightness of the fabric pressing deep into your skin, letting it bubble at its rim. “get on your knees for me.”
removing herself, the echo of the chair being moved back was loud and quick, pressing her knees down onto the wooden floorboards. her face in meet with your black laced panties that had been soaked. placing your hand at the back of her head, inviting her to press her nose right against your clothed clit, rolling your hips against her face as she held onto your thighs, nails digging into it’s plushness. she inhaled your scent— the aroma of your arousal filling her airway, letting you feel the lining of her curved nose slide from your clit then down your folds, letting it dampen her skin.
“that’s a good girl… such a pathetic pretty thing… huff it.” you moan, loving the sight of abby and the way she allowed you to talk to her.
“fuck miss…” she inhaled, “you smell so nice… m’ losin’ my mind…“ eyes closed, turning her head slightly left then right— nose buried deep into your clothed folds until it left an imprint, fabric sticking to your wet cunt. “m’so pathetic… all for you… can’t stop thinkin’ bout your fuckin’ pussy and god knows how much i…. how much i needed this.”
your fingers slid at the side of her face, taking any loose strands that fell from her braid away from her face as she spoke— getting a hold of her braid stabilizing her head, lifting it granting a loud inhaling moan.
she looked up you, eyes flickering between your eyes then your lace. “you’re so wet for me, i can feel ‘em through your panties, see” she breathed, sliding her thick fingers to feel your puffy folds almost hug around them— your slick seeping through and coating her fingers. she rose her fingers, spreading them apart, admiring the string that connected from her middle to her ring finger before placing them on her tongue and sucking them.
she lifted your dress some more, just enough to show your full stomach as she held onto your waist, pressing her lips deeply at the soft pudge, leaving slow, teasing kisses against, her lips sinking in every meet, with her eyes staring right up at you. abby wanted you to know she admired the way that you looked, how soft your body had been, letting this moment be the time she overindulged in every part you’d let her. her lips rimming around your belly button, opening her lips as she let her tongue slightly caress at the skin, “so soft..” abby spoke in a hushed tone, spreading your thighs apart more as she pressed her nose right in the center of your clit, inhaling your sweet smell once more before rolling her tongue over it. “can’t get ‘nough of this pussy… it just smells so sweet.” she breathed, latching onto your clit as she started to slowly suck right over your panties, feeling your throbbing bud feather against her tongue.
“yeah…? you like it don’t you baby? huffing it like a dog in heat.” you tease, tilting your head to see those pretty lips that were in its usual pout spread against the lace. “come on big girl, show me how much you need it.” enjoying the feeling of her harsh inhales and exhales traveling against your skin as she sucked— moaning sweetly between every word as your hips buck into her face, rolling them.
pulling down your panties to the side, she saw the wetness connect from your clit, running all down your slit, immediately spreading your lips apart, seeing your whole view.
“m’ gonna fuck it with my tongue… may i…? can i have my tongue so deep inside you, i can feel you clench yourself…?” her eyes not leaving your face, letting her tongue run up your slit as her mouth latches on.
“show me.”
just as she always does, she obliged, listening to your every request like a trained puppy— she pressed it’s muscle harder, circling her lips at the bud. with one hand holding her braid and the other at your hip, you press your shoe at her crotch, pressing down firmly, circling it around.
a tingling sensation bounced off her body, roaming through each part of her limps, the heat rose at her crotch was now your stepping stool. furrowing eyebrows and low grunts, her lips released, dropping her head down, she watched as your shoe pressed against her aching clothed pussy— her jeans already tight and harshly hugging her thighs to the point where she felt like busting through them. “fuck…” she breathed, spreading her kneeling legs apart, liking the pressure you placed on her. abby rolled her hips upward, eager to just feel something more— any attention to her cunt and the hard surface from the bottom your shoe, did wonders on her.
“i didn’t tell you to stop now did i pretty thing?” you coo as you lift her head by her braid, other hand sliding against her cheek with a slight stroke of her thumb before lifting and tapping her face, giving her a hard slap. her eyes widened and her hips jolted, feeling more of a press from your shoe— the throbs of her cunt matching it’s beats with the lingering sting of the slap, her moans growing louder and throaty. “oh?” loving the surprised glare abby gave you, “took you by surprise didn’t i?”
she smirked, basking in the tingle her face had, “the way you’re handlin’ me miss…” her lips now ghosting over your clit, “never had’a women talk to me like this before.”
“you like it, don’t you?”
“oh i surely do.”
abby was enticed with the way you felt against her tongue, pushing her face in as if there were to be any space in between, she’d want to fill her face in it— each lick, she curls her tongue at your entrance, hooking all that you leaked against her tongue, swallowing it and your labia fluttering in her mouth in the roughness of her suctions. popping her mouth off just to see the flesh of your pussy dance prettily and coated in her spit.
“please fuck my face miss…” she groaned in between sucks, “fuck it… please fuck it.”
her bitten nails piercing deep in your soft thighs and your ass, letting it fill her hands as she gripped and shook it in her grasp— your panties bunching and lining in between your ass. cocking a hand back, she spanked, a loud gasp croaking from your throat, hips jolting closer towards her face as she spanked you over and over again. “your fucking mouth… god youre so dirty… you make me feel so good.” you sigh, taking a deep breath as you found your legs buckling inward, hands at the top of her head— her neat braid now forming a mess.
“look how it’s drippin’… you needed this, didnt’ya miss?” admiring how wet you were for her, her eyes in full amazement— dazed by the taste and the scent. her tongue ran along your stripe, spitting on your clit, quickly lapping it up before she slowly slid its muscle in your opening. instantaneously you clenched against her, head bobbing as she let her tongue penetrate deeper into your cunt. it felt hot and warm, contorting her tongue just you can feel how hard her tongue worked— her nose bumping at your clit with her eyes watching your even reaction.
you were left in a moaning mess, unable to taunt her as much as you would’ve liked— she knew exactly what she was doing and how to please your pussy. moaning her name over and over again as your shoe continued to press harder against her crotch and your hips fuck up into her face. the grip she had on your ass, pulling you in even before she even thrusted herself outward, humming a line of ‘uh huhs’ as she took notice of the switch in your heightened sounds.
leaning herself back, there was a string of mixed slick and spit that connected you both, spreading your folds, spitting against your clit and letting it run down, quickly running her tongue up your folds, then spitting again. the spit turning stringy and somewhat slimy.
“stop.” you panted, yanking her head from her braid seeing her face wet, skin glistening in the mess she made from you cunt. strands of cluttering at her forehead as she tried her best to catch her breath.
“did i do somethin’ wrong?” lining her tongue against her lips.
“go on the couch. i need more.” taking your shoe from her crotch, watching the big woman get herself up on her feet, gulping down harshly as she walked towards the couch with you following.
“stand here.” you demanded, “watch me.”
your fingers curl at her buckle, feeling its cold metal against your fingers as you undid it, throwing it to the side and hearing it loud clunk against the floor following with her pants and boxers that you let puddle at her feet. your face now in view with her pussy— a warm deep honey flush of hair coating it , wild yet trimmed that lined all the way up her belly button. “im gonna let this pretty pussy fuck my tits.” you announced breathily.
she gasped in return, watching as you press your breasts together, poking out your chest with her hips following. “dont be shy… fuck it.” you tease, her hands holding onto your shoulders as you gather spit and let it fall at your thick, rounded breasts, already wet from abby’s hungry lips and you leaking.
she took no time to press herself onto you, the softness of your warm, wet breasts pressing at her hardened clit allowing a shaky moan to fall from her lips. no time was wasted before she rutted herself into your— her strong build making your body jerk at every thrust she gave. her clit felt warm and her slick tattooed your skin— each pull of thrust having a line of her slick connecting you both.
“good girl, fuck them rough.” you praised, abby now lost in lust, your leaking nipples dripping down onto your thighs and her own. the slaps of skin were loud and her moans were louder, gritting at her teeth. bending at the knees, you took a hold of one, rubbing your nipple down her folds, letting it feather her clit.
“it feels… so… goddamn good.” her moans broken but her thrust directed, throwing her head back as she let the sounds of her melodic moans bounce against the living room walls.
“that’s it, show mommy how good it feels.” you laugh, enjoying how abby lost herself for you. each part of her body was at work, lifting her shirt to show her own cute, small breasts, grasping on one and rolling her finger against her nipple. she twisted and turned at her, her body jolting forward, knees knocking inward, unable to keep herself standing.
you stood up quickly, needing to feel her against you. with a hand pressed at her chest, you pushed her down, watching her body bounce of the cushion. taking her jacket, you straddle her waist, your cunt pressed against her crotch as you take both her wrists in hand, pinning them above her head. your hips wildly roll upwards, feeling the sharpness of her shaped abdomen, letting your clit trail against it’s bumps as she breathed heavily. “god you’re so sexy…” you whined, your hips snapping as your body jiggled and moved— abby’s hands clasping onto your thighs then your stomach as it moved. “i want to fuck every… fucking part of your body…” you admitted, her stomach now wet with your slick before you let yourself run down and hover her cunt once more.
“been wantin’ta fuck you so bad miss…” she sighed, hips rolling up into you, mimicking the grinds you gave. the feeling of her jeans bumping at your clit, dampening it as your face snakes along hers. “drivin’ me insane…”
“oh am i now?” you moan prettily as you continue to roll your hips, feeling the heat between you both interlock. “i want you…” you breathe, voice shaking, “i want you to ride my pussy with yours… need to feel it on me.”
“miss… i would’a never thought you’d’a be so damn dirty…” abby grinned wickedly, eyes flashing dangerously at your request, turning you around so your back replaces hers on the couch.
grabbing you leg, she spreads them, lifting it, hovering herself over yours as she angled her clit on top of yours. her strong legs being pushed into your frame, feeling the weight of her strength in the consistency of her starting grinds. your fingers tug at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up to see the hair that trail down her belly button wash lightly against her pubic bone— her pussy fleshy and wet. at contact, a loud groan croaked from her throat, pressing herself down further and starting to move her hips.
she rutted her hips wildly, unable to control herself with the way you sounded at every movement she made. huskily grunting at the feeling of your beating clit pressing up against hers and down her wet folds. hearing the wetness of your collision rise with the moans that fell from your throats. grasping onto her arms, nails digging into its skin with eyes that connected as you spoke at one another in the song of your moans. “baby your pussy feels so good…” you call out.
“atta girl…” abby grunted, heavy hips lifting as they slammed against yours— feral, rigid, “m’gonna breed you… fill you up and make you pregnant.” that once sweet and soft spoken southern woman, losing herself in her lust.
abby knew she couldn’t— she wasn’t thinking straight at all. the adrenaline that pumped through her veins caused her to not even feel the ache that stirred in the quickness of her rolling hips. each thrust, she felt her body shudder with excitement, like her body took shots of this moment to remember. her clit, pounded against yours, loving the intensity of colliding skin and your moans that got whiner after every grunt she spoke.
beats of sweat slid down her forehead just like she had been out on the field, cascading down in stylized ripples, feeling the itch in the tickling drip. your eyes wide, it wanting to miss any second, feeling yourself close to a haze, unable to grasp at the fact that abby said she was about to breed you when it wasn’t even physically possible. it was hot nonetheless— your body arching into the couch cushions as your nails tattooed the thickness of her rough yet soft skin.
“say…” you breathe out in a struggle, feeling your moans flow from your throat on lumps, swallowing the spit and running their tongue against your drying lips, “say that again..”
she laughed in another hungered grunt, her large hand pressing down at your full chest, letting her palm slide up until it hooked around your neck, thumb firmly giving you a nice choke, “oh my…” abby laughed breathlessly, eyebrows knitting into a pleasurable expression, “m’ gonna make you a mama again— m’a breed this pretty pussy. you need it dont’cha baby… i know i needed this...”
“do it!” you shouted with a devilish grin, rolling your eyes back as your felt your stomach tighten and your limbs lock. unable to keep still, your body flared as you tried so desperately to hold onto something. even though abby had you in her grasp, each breath being harder to take with her tightening hold, and your legs in an unmoving position, your body couldn’t take all this pleasure. it was quick, rigid, hunger and outward looking in, anyone could see how desperate you both were for the building orgasm that flooded in the language of your body movements.
“fuck m’a cum… take it…”
her clit pulsated hard, squeezing a rasped grunt as she felt herself gush directly onto your push— a satisfied sigh after every one she made— the clear liquid splashing onto your stomach, her chest and your face.
it took you by surprise, snapping your neck up to watch her squirt right on you as she grinded it all into you, the puddling mess escaping everywhere and filling the lining of your stomach until it concave as you breathed in. the sight alone was disgusting hot, toes curling as your orgasm hit you harder than any toy you’ve used and definitely harder than any person tried in the past.
“fuck…” abby sighed, gulping down roughly with her hips slowing themselves down— her body now glistening with sweat, her muscles being more prominent than before.
“im not through with you yet.” you laughed, “no one’s ever made me cum this hard and that fast. need to ring you out dry.” letting go of her shoulders, taking her braid that slung over it, and pulling her down so your lips were inches apart, “you know how to work a strap on pretty girl?”
“you wan’ that? m’ might break you.” abby snickered, being well versed in the used of a strap on, having many herself back at home.
“break me big girl.”
•••
both of you were now free of clothing as she laid prettily on your bed, legs sprawled out to see her wet pussy being on full display. her clit was cute, fleshy, dripping with cum that ran down the innards of her thigh. you pressed deep and slow kisses against the inner of her thighs all the way to her clit, running the flat of your tongue on it and with each lick, she'd stare, watching as it’d move in the direction you licked. she tasted sweet, filling your mouth as your nose felt the tickle by the constant rub against her pubic bone, letting your lips take breaks in between to kiss alongside it. you ran your finger against the hood of your clit, watching its bud stand as you blew cool air against it— her body twitching at the soft blow.
“does it feel good?” you tease, each couple licks granting an inhaling suck. her eyes went back and forth, closing them and trying to watch as your face took it’s place in between her legs. she wanted to watch you, the way you looked so sexy rolling your muscle at her aching clit. she felt a constant throb huddled at her temples, jaw clenching as she let out soft grunts, bucking her hips up towards your mouth. the scent of her was strong and tantalizing, popping your mouth off just to see the flesh of her pussy flutter prettily.
she nodded, already feeling the building orgasm at the bottom of her stomach. you ran your tongue against her skin, letting it trail all the way up to her belly button before nipping at her skin— teeth grazing as you sucked gently, feeling the burn against your tongue.
“use your words.” you breath against her, allowing a trail of spit to coat over her exposed bud.
“it feels… so…” she hummed, gulping down roughly as her body jerked slightly with the movement of your flicking tongue, “fuck it feels good miss… please… please let me fuck you.” she begged, unable to wait much longer knowing she didn’t have time herself before she’d lose herself completely.
a smile resided on your lips as your hand slid against the cold bedsheets, grabbing onto the strap and harness you had gotten while stumbling your way up the stairs and into your room.
taking it, she stood, legs slightly locking. red flushed at her shoulders and cheeks, with wet trails that fell and lined down her legs and splattered on her stomach— getting a better sight of what made up of her build. her ass was tight and muscling, clenching so cutely as she put one leg in the harness after the other, letting it sit tightly at her hips that had been fastened. you took her place in bed, laying and watching her as she quickly assembled it onto herself. your fingers grazed over your clit, feeling your body jerk with sensitivity, humming out pleasantly as she made her way towards your bed once again.
her lips warm and soft, raw from the constantly prod of yours as you stumbled your way from the couch, up the stairs and into your bedroom— they were red and even more plump before, throbbing at every spread when she smiled.
“god miss…” another breathy sigh being exhaled, “you’re gonna make me all pussy drunk.” her hand wrapping around the dildo— thick and a reasonable length. one that could fill with its fake ejaculation and stretch you, make you gasp upon entering. it had been one of your favorites, never failing to make you cum as if you were in one of those films where the sex was hot from a quick hookup at a bar. you used it a lot and especially when you wanted your legs to give out, slamming it into you until your arms were raw in pain— loving the sight when you took its girth from inside of you, squeezing the ‘cum’ it let out.
“seems like you already are, dont forget, you were just huffing my pussy downstairs.” you teased, her body hovering yours as she let the tip of the dildo replace your fingers, sliding it up and down your folds with a firm press. “impress me. you have my hopes up, don’t want to be let down.”
she scoffed, her lips savoring gentle kisses in between every word you spoke, “just cause this shit fake don’t mean m’not gonna fuck you like it’s real, miss.” and with a lean, she gathered spit in her mouth, letting it fall at the tip of the dildo that had already dropped from your slick, letting it run down its detailed shaft before stroking it— twisting wrist and a firm grasp. “lift that leg up f’me.”
you obliged, holding on up as it still trembled, remembering that hard orgasm you had on the couch. her other hand, free, slapped your clit with no warning, replacing the immediate sting with a calming rub as you felt your body twitch coldly. you liked that. she didn’t treat you like you were helpless— she didn’t fuck you like she felt bad for you. a single mother all desperate for a good enough fuck to remember, that’s what people thought once they lay in your bed. they all looked at you, thinking by the sweetness of your smile, you weren’t able to take something as simple as a choke or a little back and forth between degrading words— but a slap to the cunt from a hand as rough and as big as hers? it felt good, and before you could even make a complete thought she did it again.
“you’re a dirty thing.” abby let out in a impressed sigh, your fingers replacing hers as they tried to soothe your clit from the slaps. your pointer and middle, spread yours folds open, allowing her to see your readiness. “you ready f’me?”
“show me baby… show me. ruin me.”
pressing your leg against her chest, you felt the softness of her small breast and the heaves of her deep breaths. she angled herself, the dildo slowly disappearing into your cavern with a gasping moan filling the air. her eyes glued themselves, admiring the way you took her so easily despite it’s girth.
the sting of your leg and how it had been lifted burned at your thigh, letting out a pleasured shriek once you felt yourself wrap around her entirely— folds hugging its shaft. sunken inhales and fingers clasping onto the bed sheets, her hips start to move slowly and at each thrust, you saw her abdomen form and flex.
“god you’re so big…” you whisper, her hips staggering as she dipped her body down, face inches away from yours as it hovered. “such a… good… girl, go faster…”
abby couldn’t contain herself. the tight hug at the harness nudged against her clit, already stimulated and throbbing from your now absent mouth. each push of her hips came a harder pound, loving the way your breasts obnoxiously knocked into one another, taking a hold of one as she latched her lips on them again. she sucked harshly, letting her hips loose as she rolled them faster into you.
“just… just like that.” you call out, her responding in humming ‘mm hmms’, only caring for your demands and the heightening moans you let out.
she fucked you good. she fucked you hard. your body jerking every time her skin came in contact with yours. lifting her head, your hands frantically moved gripping at her jaw. deeper she went, hearing your sounds and pleads for more. abby swore she could feel you wrapped around her. you let your fingers dig into her cheek, feeling in indentation of her teeth through her cheeks, bringing her her face down. you pressed a long warm kiss against her squished lips, her heavy breath from her nose blowing at your upper lip as she tried to keep her breath steady.
“oh fuck miss… you feel so good.” she cooed in between each kiss, capturing your tongue in her mouth, sucking on its pink muscle, bobbing her head. “i need’ta breed you… i want’a cum inside… please let me.” she begged, your tongue swiping across her lips, collecting the remnants of spit that coated them.
“come on big girl, fill me up.” you egged on, surprised at how close your orgasm was picking up. the heat between your bodies burning as the shift of your bed scrapped against the wooden floorboards. each thrust, you heard the hard collision of skin, your body and stomach moving as her hand gripped it, massaging it as she let her eyes fall from yours to your breasts to your stomach. “you’re so good to me… so good for me… the way you treat me… you deserve it… breed my pussy. impregnate me…”
a fleeting glint of mischief and eagerness glistening in her watercolored colored eyes, your words trapping her in a lust filled state as her hips lost its consistency but picked up in its power. eyebrows furrowing, and dripping spit coated lips, she felt herself nearing closer and closer.
“please..” she whimpered, chanting over and over as she let out soft cries, eyes welting from how good it felt and how you sounded.
“cum with me..” you spoke gently, a harsh gasp as you curl your toes, “cum for mommy… come on baby.”
“i… fuck…” her hand hurried in search and in hold of the valve that allowed the strap’s ’cum’ to fill itself inside of you. “im gonna fill you up…” right before she felt herself reach her high, she squeezed it tight, its warm, thick cum filling itself inside, pressing firmly at your walls as some seeped out with every pull of her thrust— a white ring surrounded the base of the shaft.
she let out a loud howl, releasing herself with a splash of her squirt coming from the side of the harness, spraying down on top of you and the bed. your rolled to the back of your head— body trembling rigorously as your push your orgasm down onto her shaft. loud and clear moans being fought from your mouths as she let herself thrust deeper and slowing its pace.
“god…” you breathed as she slid out, immediately sitting in between your legs, hand pressed at your thigh as you push them cum from inside of you out. it leaked, slowly escaping and falling to the bed. “look how much you filled me.” you laugh tiredly, her eyes growing at the sight.
“jesus…” she sighed all the while trying to catch her breath, “my apologies but i dont think i had’a nough…” she admitted, her body visibly worn but full of an adrenaline high to stop herself.
smirking to yourself, you nodded, running your tongue over your lips, “good, cause im not done with you.”
#lesbian#sapphic#wlw#tlou#the last of us#abby tlou#abby anderson#abby smut#abby tlou2#abby x you#the last of us abby#abby anderson the last of us#abby anderson smut#abby the last of us#abby x reader#abby x y/n#abby x fem!reader#abby x masc!reader
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settling in • a. artlert
moving into a new place with your fiancée and he has the perfect idea to get you two acquainted with it!
word count: 3.9K
pwp, black fem reader, nursing au plotline, lowkey filthy smut, spit play, he fucks reader in a chair, praise kink, squirting, oral (f. receiving) brief a eating (iykwim), fingering, creampie, full nelson, pet names + daddy is used.
it’s been forever and fifteen days since I’ve written for my pooh bear armeen (I lowkey missed him) and writing so here we are
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *
“Is that it?”
“Yeah..looks like it was the last one. Finally.”
a heavy sigh of relief, along with a wave of pride came rushing over the twenty four year old as he faintly kicked the door shut and locked it behind himself and his beautiful bride to be. Carrying in the remaining boxes from a long and daunting move. It was a surreal moment to say the very least. Neither of you could believe that in just a few months, you’d be marrying the love of your life, with successful jobs and what seemed like a far off reality, now owning your place. A single family home with two bedrooms and two baths, a beautiful kitchen and everything that you could’ve ever wanted! If anyone had told you guys that this would be your future, you’d never believe them. It seemed like just yesterday, the two of you were partying and doing dumb, dangerous things. Now, (y/n) was working as a Human Resources manager and in the same hospital where your soon to be husband worked as a registered nurse. It was ideal in all the ways imaginable. Armin Artlert was always regarded as someone who was extremely intelligent with a good head on his shoulders. Someone who’d undoubtedly walk the straight and narrow..unfortunately, he veered from that path when he met you. Not so much that you dragged him down or deterred him from his goals, but you kept him good and preoccupied! Meeting for hookups when the both of you should have been studying. Him snatching you from class early just to smoke you out and have sex..it was very unbecoming of both of you and although you were both madly in love, it wasn’t enough and you made the heartbreaking decision to separate for a while. At least until your goals were met and you were both in a good place. Fast forward almost two years and your lives couldn’t be better. On the day of his nursing school graduation, Armin dropped to a knee in front of everyone and asked you to be his wife. He knew he couldn’t go a step further into his future unless you were right there beside him, to do it for eternity. And with bells, you accepted! Nearly ruining your makeup after his doting speech. Now, things were looking brighter than ever and you both had so much to look forward to. In both your personal lives and careers..
“…we really did it, huh?” The tears welled in your eyes at the uttering of the words. Truthfully, you were overcome with emotion. Especially because you’d never imagined this life for yourself..a wife, a career woman or homeowner. It felt like something you’d never even dreamed of and yet, you were thankful you’d crossed paths with this man. You loved Armin so much and you were so glad that there was no question, that he was all yours. And that this life? It was one that you were going to build together.
“Yes we did..and I’m so proud. Of both of us. I love you, (y/n).” Softly muttering with his hands cradling your own; pulling you closer towards him as he wrapped you in an embrace. “Hey angel..what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” It was inevitable, truly. You were always so emotional..so loving with a sensitive nature but he couldn’t understand why you’d be shedding tears at such a joyous occasion. Even so, he held you close and even swiped your tears away with tender kisses. “I’m sorry..I’m just so happy. ‘S all..” he didn’t hold it against you though. It was quite overwhelming to think about but right now, his focus was on celebration and enjoying your new space. Cradling you to his chest, your fiancé placed a kiss atop your head and cupped your face in his palms. “Well I am too. I love you so much, you know that right?” His cheeks flustered red and raised from ear to ear as he just examined you for a moment. You were so beautiful, he honestly couldn’t believe that he’d be spending the rest of his life, waking up next to this beautiful face. That gorgeous skin, those prominent yet delicate features. Everything about you made his heart flutter..
“I love you too, so much more..”
but alas, it wasn’t the only organ that you seemed to garner a reaction out of..whilst standing there; his frame towering slightly above your own, Armin couldn’t help but to ponder on those past memories. All of those wild nights together..the partying, the drinking and of course, the steamy, late night sexscapades you two partook in. It was truly the highlight of your week and now, you could do so whenever you wanted. Living under the same roof. For the time that he was away from you, Armin had spent many nights thinking of all the things he’d do once he got you back in his life. How he’d spoil you, how'd he cherish you, the way he’d make a conscious effort every single day to show his affection…and of course…
“Mm, is that so? You think you love me more?”
how he’d make love to you in a way that’d transcend all of the drunken, weed fueled sex you’d had in the past! This time was different, more intimate and far more special than all those times before. He wanted you to know that above all else, you were his number one priority.
“Yes I do..” smirking whilst a finger trailed down his chest and back up to his chin; chewing at your lower lip and glancing up at him. It wasn't hard to deduce what was on both of your minds at the moment. The teasing, the playful banter..it was all bound to lead to one thing.
“Well I don’t think that’s possible, babe. I mean…I could just show you how much I adore you…— just then, you’d feel his lips move to your neck and snake up to your ear, where he whispered. “But I don’t think you could handle that.” Still cradling you close. Meanwhile, his ink laden hands; decorated in beautiful tattoos, snakes around to your backside and squeezed it tightly. He’d been trying to contain himself all day but watching you strut about, carrying item after item into your new home, in nothing more than a thin tank top and shorts that had your plump ass swaying with each step. The way your soft skin absolutely flowed underneath the sunlight, almost as if you were some sort of deity, and his favorite…those perfectly round tits sitting up in that shirt. He had to exercise all of his restraint not to rip you out of it right there! But now, you were alone and nothing could stand in the way of it. Besides, what better way to break the new place in?!
“Oh trust, honey. I’m a big girl…I can take whatever you throw at me.” Alluding to much more suggestive things. “Good to know..” There was no need in beating around the bush so with that declaration, Armin roped those hands around the back of your neck as the gap between your bodies closed. It wasn’t long before you were snaking your tongues down each other’s throats, biting at the other’s lower lip and whimpering into the kiss. The teeming passion and unbridled lust that had been bubbling inside of you guys could no longer be sated. Eventually, you found yourselves, trying to rip each other out of your clothes and you’d subtly walk backwards until your calves were knocking against the new recliner..not even out of its plastic yet. (Y/N) took a seat and lowered Armin with you as your hand cradled the back of his head. He didn’t waste any time in teasing you as he was certain you’d become all flustered and just beg him relentlessly. He did however, pull away and tug your tank top down with him. Revealing those beautiful breasts and erect nipples. Those perfect brown buds quickly disappeared into his mouth and he’d suckle; whimpering out of pure pleasure.
“Mmmph..I definitely missed this..”
a look of deviation shrouded his face as he cupped your tits into his palms and ravaged them. “I can tell…mmm!..” He always did have a fixation on your chest and would get lost in foreplay alone. Licking, suckling and latching onto them as he fingered you slowly. Slender digits buried to the hilt inside of you..you’d be left a dripping puddle of cream by the time he finished.
“Put those legs up here for me…” instructing you to place your calves on either side of the chair arms and spread yourself open. To which you’d happily comply…ready to show him exactly how needy and desperate you were for things to escalate. “Thereee we go. God, I can’t wait to taste you..” eagerly rubbing your thighs and leaving a trail of kisses along the insides, even licking all around the skin, just to garner a reaction. He could tell by the way you chewed your finger, you were burning up with equal anticipation to have him devour you..so with those legs parted wide, Armin placed both palms flat into your skin and pinned you down, after removing your shorts and tugging that thong to the side. Part of him wanted to sit here and admire you and the other half just wanted to feast hungrily on this pretty cunt of yours. Dredging his fingertips slightly over the slick lined opening, he’d suck his teeth; grunting and moaning for you..
“This pussy’s so fucking fat..and pretty. And she’s so wet f’r me already…”
just doting on your sex as he peeled the hood of your clit back with his thumb pad to stroke it. Meanwhile, you were about to come undone from anticipation and teasing. Clutching your tits, (y/n) bit your lip once more and whimpered, all but begging him to quit stalling. “Baaabe. Please..” which did nothing more than rile him up even more and give him the deeper urge to mess with you. “What’s the matter? Something on your mind, gorgeous?” Which only earned him a flustered laugh and the cutest plea as you bucked your hips towards his face and against his fingers. Armin was notorious for making you wait and beg for it..something about watching you writhe and moan, begging for him to touch you just really turned him on. “C’mon, baby..if you want something, say it. I’ve got all night..” chuckling with that deviant, icy glare in his eyes. Those blue lens’ fixated on you with precision..he wasn’t moving until he heard the fateful words exit your lips and luckily for the both of you…it didn’t take long to crack!
“Mmmph…just eat my pussy, please..fuck I need it. Need you so bad..”
and with that declaration, Armin felt confident in giving you what you desired.
“Aw, is that it?…well why didn't you just say so, sweetheart?” Just then, with his gaze still very much fixated on his girl, the mischievous blonde slid one single digit inside of you as he watched your reaction shift..pleasure struck all over your face as he finally made contact with that entrance. It had admittedly been nearly a month since the two of you engaged in any sort of sexual activity. With this move, transitioning into new jobs and such, it barely left time for each other. Life hadn’t seemed to slow down at all. However, this was your chance to atone for that and best believe you were going to spend the rest of the night, up until the morning doing so. All in the comfort of your new home.. “You know I aim to please..” finally snaking his tongue out, Armin lapped it against your clit and began swirling it around those folds. Flicking it in and out, suckling and slurping…he didn’t hold back on his little feast. Meanwhile, that finger was still working your over to relieve that tightness. He’d add a second one eventually and pump that little hole while continuing to eat your pussy mercilessly. “Oh fuck…s’ good. Right there, baby..yes..” you’d claw at the unwrapped cushions but he’d instruct you to place your hands elsewhere, wanting you to guide him along for your pleasure. “Pull my hair, baby ... .put that shit in my face..” cursing under his breath as his ascent into your sex continued. Latching onto your clit, Armin suckled on it for a full minute whilst pumping those two digits in and out…by this time, a puddle had begun to form underneath your ass. The pearly shade adding such a beautiful contrast on your skin.
“You’re creaming already, babe? Ooh..you gotta save some for me..need to feel that.” Even so, Armin persisted and kept devouring that delicious cunt whilst your fingers snaked between his blonde tresses and tugged him along. Your head dangled back in pleasure as you cried out, pushing yourself into his face. He was so enamored with the way you reacted to him. The way it spasmed around those knuckles, the way you leaked even more, those sweet juices trickling down his chin, when he touched the tip of his tongue to your aching little bud and especially when he momentarily flicked himself around your other entrance and caused you to release another pretty whimper. “Somebody likes that..sticking my tongue in that pretty little asshole. I think you might come if I keep doing that.” Which made you both giggle. “Yeah..feels so fucking good though.” He’d pause for a brief moment, letting you both recuperate and that’s when you’d all but demand that he give you what you really needed. But not without a little persuasion, of course!
“What was that? You want what?”
“For you to fuck meee..”
drawing out your words in a flustered whine, jolting around as he stroked himself underneath, mocking and taunting your pleas. “To fuck you?” “Yesss, I need that dick so bad.” By this time, you were playing with yourself to quell your urges. Unable to wait for him to do so. “Aw, somebody’s needy today. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.” Reassuring you as he rose to his feet. Just then, Armin would lob a trail of spit in between your folds and simultaneously grasp the base of his cock, stroking upwards to get himself aroused. Which was already in play…between eating you out and those adorable whimpers, he was aching to sink himself inside of you. “Look what you did to me…fuck, you turn me on so much, baby..” crying out in that whiny yet sultry tone; sucking his teeth and glaring down at you as he aligned himself with your slit. Tapping that aching head against your entrance, Armin slowly but surely teased the tip right up against you. But alas, you were growing impatient. So with your legs spread wide, feet brushing his forearms and a direct view of both of your lower halves, you’d reach forward to help guide him..
“You gonna put it in for me?” Prompting you to nod and lick your lips as your flesh finally met. “Go ahead, beautiful. This is your dick, you use me how you want to..”
and with that, you’d feed that stiff, throbbing cock into you until it reached the halfway mark. The initial sensation caused both of you to erupt into loud groans and expletives..he was rather girthy despite his lanky stature but he certainly didn’t lack in size either..nearing around seven or so inches with round, plump balls. It was perfect..even so, you were still one and only weakness. He didn’t want to sit idle but he felt the second he began thrusting, his clock would proceed to tick as well..fearful that he may not last as long as he’d hope for. “Fuck, fuck…you’re so tight, angel.” Gripping the back of his chair, he’d attempt to regain his balance and establish a rhythm. Pounding slowly into you whilst not making direct eye contact. That would only shorten his stamina if anything..seeing that pretty face while he was in it? He’d fill you up on the spot.
“I remember when we first started having sex and I couldn’t last more than two minutes with you..” recollecting on your past hookups. Which prompted you both to laugh. Granted, you had only been with two other people prior to Armin, with one night stands but they were never memorable. Lasted all of ten minutes before you dipped..but with him? You could never forget it. Whether it was him being flustered and nervous because you felt way too good. So much so that he came in less than five minutes and was so embarrassed about it. But you thought it was adorable, actually. He was so doting, gentle and made sure you were okay the entire time. You two took the time to actually learn and explore one another’s bodies. Touching, massaging and even masturbating together..it was that sensuality that made it all the more special.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing…and you were the only one to ever make me come that hard.” Doting on your man as he slid in and out of you. (Y/N) slowly stroked your clit to match his pace, rolling those fingertips on that sensitive bud..
“And you stretch me out so fucking good, baby..mm, that dick feels so good..” “..yeah? Feel good, sweetheart? Like the way I’m fucking this little pussy?”
your encouragement seemed to incite something inside of him..just then, you’d feel those strokes get deeper and a tad bit faster. Jolting you around and making those perky titties away with each one. He still had his hands planted to the back of the chair but he was finally able to make eye contact with his beloved and when he saw your expressions, he just became more enthused to fuck you! He’d then snake the free hand around your throat and choke you slightly as he cooed to you. “It feels good when I’m pounding you, baby? Making that shit cream on me?..” Naturally, he knew the response just by your body language and enjoyed hearing you answer with soft whimpers and cries.
“Yes daddy, oh my gosh! You’re fucking me so good right now…’m gonna come.”
which he knew was no fake out. He could feel that grip tightening more and more by the second. And if that wasn’t any indication, the way you were smacking at his now exposed abs as he tucked the tail end of his shirt between his teeth, was more than enough. “Ooh, I know you do, angel. I can feel how close you are..you’re squeezing me. Tell me, are you gonna give me what I want?” Questioning as that clutched hand brought a thumb up to your soft lips, allowing you to suckle. You knew exactly what he was alluding to and truthfully, he had no other choice..you were prepared to let it all go for him. Whatever he desired..replacing that thumb pad with his own lips, Armin fed you a couple of sloppy kisses, before asking you once more and when you responded accordingly, all but begging him as he sped up again, he’d give you his permission and command..
“That’s all I needed to hear…come, now..” needless to say, he was not disappointed with the result. He’d meet you with as many strokes as possible, letting out tiny spurts of the sweet nectar until you’d all but push him out and squirt all over the place. Armin couldn’t help but to be overcome with excitement as he watched you make a giant mess because of him.
“That’s what I’m talking about, baby..come on this dick..fuuuck yes.” Meanwhile, you were trembling as the remnants of those juices exited your body and you were left trembling from the sensation. Yet you found yourself longing for more and it took your fiancé no time to notice. Leaning forward, he’d cup your face and swish his tongue around in your mouth. But even that wasn’t enough to sate his appetite for you. Because just when you thought he was about to reach that climatic peak along with you, you were in for another surprise. Coiling those legs tightly around his firearms, Armin tugged you closer and instructed you to grab him. “Wrap your arms around me, baby. Hold on.” With that, you found yourself hoisted midair and propelled onto his cock. The sensation is just as equally warming and comforting as the first time…he’d become a lot stronger than the Armin you met in highschool. A lot more muscular and a hell of a lot more confident..
“I swear I’ll never get tired of fucking you..feels so good every time I’m inside of you…don’t even wanna pull out..” as he thrusted and bucked his hips upward into you, he’d rattle off and sing your praises. You were reaching your breaking point but you couldn’t stop glaring into his eyes. Wanting to reach that peak together..needing to watch his reactions. You were fixated, obsessed with one another..madly in love. And you were going to consummate that very love in your new home. “Kiss me..kiss me while I come in that pretty pussy..please..” all but begging as your lower halves smacked together in a sticky sheath. Flailing your head back, (y/n) cried out and clawed your nails into his neck, begging for all he had whilst hammering into that tight cunt. “Just like that, Armin! Right there, baby..” Your tongues clashed in a heated twist of passion and before long…
“Oh fuck..oh fuck..I’m coming, baby..” he couldn’t contain himself any longer and those thrusts became sporadic, a lot more uncontrollable and before long, he was pouring every drop of that warm seed into your womb. Tugging you down and keeping you in place until he couldn’t spill another drop. You’d both release ear shattering cries, laced with passionate ‘I love you’s’ as you rode out those orgasms in unity. It was certainly a night that neither of you would ever forget.
“I’m so happy I get to do this for the rest of my life with you..and to call you my wife.”
Chuckling as the two of you engaged in tender kisses. Letting your bodies become enraptured in the moment. Finally allowing it all to sink in..
“Yeah, you’re stuck with me..get used to it.”
“And I wouldn’t want it any other way. Who else is going to be
From mere strangers to absolute lovers, hooking up to coming home together.. it was funny how life worked…years ago, you’d never imagined that this would be your future. But now? You couldn’t picture a world where this man was not a part of it. You’d cherish this night, this moment and the beautiful ones to come, as long as he was by your side.
#cherry’s works ✦⭒#armin artlert#armin arlert#black fem reader#black reader#aot au#armin arlert x black reader#aot x black reader#armin aot#armin x black reader#aot fanfiction#aot x black y/n#aot drabbles#armin arlet smut#aot smut#smut#black reader smut#armin x black y/n#armin arlet x reader#armin#aot armin#armin smut#armin x reader#armin x y/n#hospital au#armin x you#armin arlet headcanons#cw smut#snk smut#snk
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Toji and bath time with baby Megumi. That is all 🖤
mhm mhm i present to u the life toji deserves,
ෆ tags. dad!toji x female reader. toji being a good dad & bathing megumi on his own. fluff.
“hold on, buddy.” toji mumbles as he holds megumi in one arm, the other stretched out to dip his fingers in the water. he quickly checks the temperature of the filled tub and after confirming that it’s lukewarm, he moves on to kiss megumi’s cheek.
“mama said you’re a real crybaby if you get in alone, so daddy will join ya. consider yourself lucky, kid— i don’t do this just for anyone.” toji lets out a breathy chuckle at his own jokes. despite megumi being way too young to understand what toji was saying to him, the man still got a kick out of teasing and playing around with his son.
toji carefully gets into the tub, holding megumi in his hands and slowly lowering the small baby into the water. this causes megumi to kick his chubby legs around while squealing loudly. the drops of water splashed onto toji’s face and he shakes his head with a small smile because of his son’s actions, “hey, hey, easy now, kiddo.”
once megumi was settled in the tub, toji hums thoughtfully as his eyes dart around the bathroom, clearly trying to recall the instructions you gave him beforehand. he couldn’t really remember the order of the things you told him, thus he decides to freestyle this new experience of giving megumi his bath.
“oh, hold on.” toji gets an idea and reaches over the edge of the tub to the near counter, sliding open a drawer and grabbing a bottle of bath foam which he doesn’t even bother reading, “i’ve seen your mama put this in whenever she bathes you. it creates bubbles or somethin’ like that.”
toji pops the cap open and pours the fluid in the water. he doesn’t pour only a little, no, he pours a lot. “should be enough,” he shrugs and tosses the bottle aside, grinning down at megumi who was too engrossed at the way the clear liquid moved between his small fingers.
and it turned out that it was more than just enough in the end. in a couple seconds to a single minute, the entire bath was overflowing with bath foam— it even threatened to spill out of the tub. in a blink of an eye, megumi was gone and engulfed by a sea of bubbles. not that the little boy minded it; toji could hear a few curious babbles and saw his son’s fingers try to move the foam out of his face.
toji couldn’t help it and started laughing his ass off at the sight of megumi disappearing behind the wall of foam (totally not trying to help his kid at the moment). he hadn’t had a good laugh like that in days.
after calming down—though still wheezing a bit between words—toji finally pushed the foam aside and picked megumi up, also wiping away the possible bubbles that got into his eyes, “heh— c’mere, buddy. can’t let ya drown in those bubbles.”
megumi was holding onto his dad’s face, two tiny hands patting both of his cheeks while toji was clearing the foam from megumi’s body, making sure that nothing got into the boy’s eyes. once thoroughly checked, toji kept laughing a little, chuckling at the way megumi was just innocently staring back at him.
the poor baby didn’t even understand what had happened to him seconds ago, yet was still smiling and giggling once he saw how happy his dad was.
at that exact same time, you were passing by the closed bathroom door. the muffled laughter made you curious as to what was going on, though just by hearing the sounds of joy, it seemed like your husband and son were having a great time. the fact alone made a smile appear on your own face.
#ෆ : parenting 101.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x reader#tell me why i cried a bit when making this#TOJI DESERVES A LIFE LIKE THISSSSSS#says this ten times louder for the ppl in the back
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Intimacy
Hello friends, have some soft Act 2 Astarion.
Astarion’s struggle with sex and intimacy. Connected with my other fics but is a standalone, per usual.
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, soft Astarion
Hurt/comfort, some fluff if you squint, love, angst, mutual pining, Act 2 spoilers, some fairly softcore smut
Approximately 1,600 words.
“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he told you. You’d replayed that conversation over and over countless times in your mind, since.
You had no idea what you were doing either. Oh, navigating an ordinary relationship was simple enough, and you’d had your fair share of those – even if they’d all ended in disappointment at best, so far. Being with someone who’d just escaped 200 years of abuse, however... That was something new.
“I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex.”
Well that was a fuck-up. He was walking sex. ...Most likely due to sheer force of habit, so necessary for survival over all those years, but still.
“I love you.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...
You were in over your head too. Completely. Hopelessly. In love with this catastrophe of a man.
What were you to do with him now?
Wait for him to take the lead in every physical interaction? It wasn’t in your nature to be so passive. He knew this. And you were sure he would love to be treated like spurned glass all of a sudden.
Continue as you were? Even though now all you could think about was whether a touch might bring up a repulsive memory? Assume that you could singlehandedly overwrite centuries of disgust and loathing, overnight? How presumptuous and overbearing that would have been.
Communicate? Ask? Listen? Sure. Absolutely. You did. Or tried, anyway. You were about as good at talking about these things as he was. And you didn’t really trust him to be completely honest at this point. Whether with you or his own self.
And so you explored. Slowly, cautiously and attentively.
The most innocent touches seemed to bring him an inordinate amount of joy. You weren’t surprised.
Passing him a vial of poison for his weapons and letting your fingers brush and caress one another’s, briefly. Wordlessly running a stray hand along his waist and planting a quick kiss under his ear while you walked past him as he stood talking with someone. Lingering with your foreheads or noses touching lightly after a kiss.
He leaped at any opportunity to massage your sore muscles or help you apply a salve, and you let him. It seemed he wanted to take care of you, and was working out all the ways how.
He still pleasured you in different ways, at times.
“You don’t have to...”
“I want to,” he said.
He just chose to keep his own pants on, now. You weren’t sure about his motivations. Could it be guilt? Or a misguided sense of self-worth? Did he still think this is all he was good for? Or, maybe you were completely overthinking it, and he was still just desperately horny, even if taking a step back. He was more present than before though, you could tell that much.
You considered his reactions to other forms of touch, careful not to make your observation obvious.
He hated being scratched. The entire area of his back covered in scars was off-limits for anything but embraces. He enjoyed playful bites, both giving and receiving. And more than anything, he loved holding you close, feeling as much of your body at once as possible, basking in its warmth.
In turn, you were more than happy to wrap yourself around him when you could.
“Why do you even like this?” he asked, apprehensive about it at first. “You don’t need to pretend for my sake. I can’t give you any warmth.”
“I can give you mine,” you said, simply. “Besides, you obviously don’t remember what it’s like to lie in a puddle of sweat with someone who runs hot. This is a nice change.” you added after a moment of contemplation.
You meant what you said, but you were dying to drag him into a hot bath, just to know what it would feel like for him to be warmed through. Maybe you’d get the chance once you got to Baldur’s Gate.
There happened to be a private room available at Last Light Inn that night. The group unanimously agreed that you and Astarion would take it, while the rest of your companions bunked in the common.
“For Shar’s sake, piss off, none of us want to see or hear you two,” were the exact words of their blessing, delivered by Shadowheart. Karlach sanctified it by throwing a (deftly dodged) half-eaten apple at Astarion’s head.
“Especially not hear!”
“I know this may come as a shock, but I’m actually not too fond of beds,” he said.
“New memories, Astarion,” you shook your head. “Beds are non-negotiable. I wasn’t too fond of rutting in the dirt either.”
“I’ll never grow tired of how poetic you are,” he smiled, unceremoniously throwing his gear on the floor. “New memories, you say?”
A while later, you were straddling Astarion’s hips as he sat shirtless on the edge of the bed.
“You know, you never did tell me what you like,” you sighed, your fingers in his hair as he kissed your neck.
“Oh, what does anyone like? It’s all the same in the end,” he said, running his hands along your thighs.
“That’s not true,” you murmured in his ear. “I can show you some things that are pretty unique to you right now,” you said and ran the tip of your tongue along the lower inner edge of his ear, making him shudder and let out a small moan.
“You little devil, when did you figure that out?” he breathed.
“When I happened to brush your ear a while back, like this,” you giggled, repeating the hand movement on his other ear, making him catch his breath slightly again, “and you just about started purring.”
He just chuckled in response.
“So what other secrets are you hiding?” you purred, kissing around his ear. “I might just need to kiss and caress every inch of your body to find out.”
"Sounds like a terrible chore,” he said, falling back onto the bed and pulling you with him. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Shut up and let me cherish you.”
You kissed down along one side his neck, slowly, taking your time, pausing to lightly lick or nibble on any spot that made him hitch his breath. He was putty in your hands by the time you reached his collarbone.
“Just don’t go any lower,” he said breathlessly.
You hummed your agreement. You couldn’t handle going any lower yourself – you were completely intoxicated with the scent of his skin and the sound of his sighs of pleasure, if you went any lower, you would keep going, and you didn’t think it was a day for that yet.
You continued up the other side of his neck instead.
You hesitated for a moment before your lips reached the bite marks left by Cazador, but Astarion made no indication that he didn’t want you to keep going, and so you continued. He let out a soft whimper as your lips brushed the scars.
“No?” you pulled back slightly, your hot breath still on his skin. He was lying with his eyes shut, head thrown back, neck completely exposed to you.
“Yes...” he whispered, hoarsely. “Very yes... Softly...”
You continued, lingering with your lips on the scars, as his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, snapping them against his own and grinding you against an unmistakable erection.
“I want you to make those marks your own... Yours and no one else’s...” he rasped.
This is probably a mistake, you thought, but you could barely help yourself as you moaned into his neck and ran your tongue over the scars, making him growl and grind you into himself harder. The friction, the knowledge that he wanted it too was driving you mad.
“I’m going to come if you don’t stop that,” you begged.
“Go ahead,” he groaned.
“Not without you.”
Something in the energy changed then, and you lifted yourself off him, sitting up. Astarion stayed on his back a moment longer, before exhaling and also raising himself into a sitting position. You were still on his lap, facing him.
“Listen,” he took your face in both hands, looking into your eyes intensely. “I want you so fucking bad, it hurts. I want to tear your clothes off and ravage you until you’re speaking in tongues. I do.” His voice was hoarse. He paused, before continuing. “But even more than that, I want to remember this, remember you, and not have any of the dirt from my past mixed into it. It’s difficult enough to keep it at bay as it is.” His eyes teared up at that. “And right now, for now, this is the only way I know how to do that.”
“I’m sorry.” Tears sprang from your eyes.
“No, you sweet idiot, you haven’t done anything wrong. I love you.” He gathered you in his arms, kissing away your tears as his own started to roll down. He sighed. “Great, now no one is coming, and everyone is crying.”
You both burst out laughing as soon as those words were out of his mouth.
You held each other a while longer, him stroking your back, before you broke the silence.
“So the bite scars are pretty erogenous then?”
“Extremely. Use that knowledge at your own risk and peril, darling.”
He lifted your chin for a kiss.
“Shall we go piss everyone off for a while, maybe steal Lae’zel’s boots, then come back here for more ‘memories’?” he asked.
“Sounds childish and dangerous. I’m in.”
You needed to clear your head too.
Maybe tomorrow would be the day one of you would get closer to knowing what it was you were doing, and tell the other. Until then, at least you were in it together.
~~~~~
The “I love you” is not canon for Act 2, but it is my headcanon, damnit.
Like what you just read? Huzzah, there’s more! - Series master list
Next in series - Communication
AO3
#astarion#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3 fanfic#astarion fanfic#softcore smut#bg3 smut#astarion smut
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Hii! I saw your requests were open and I thought I'd give you a hc/fic idea:
The brothers (or whoever you'd like to write for) reacting to Mc using their shampoo/ soap in the shower for whatever reason ^^
I hope this makes sense to you lol, anyways I hope you're having a wonderful day/night, don't push yourself too hard, and drink water!! You can also take any creative liberties you seem fit, or if you decide you don't want to write it I won't be offended ^^
°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
Thank you so much for the request!! This is absolutely adorable,
I hope everything is to your liking, Have a great rest of your day/night !!
Genre: fluff
Ship: Reader x brothers + Diavolo (individual headcanons)
TW: clingy demons, minimal cussing, no use of readers' pronouns,
second-person pov
When You Use Their Shampoo
Stepping into the shower, You were greeted with the nice hot/cool water raining from above, Going to start your routine, You reached for your shampoo bottle only to find it empty! Looking around you spotted his shampoo and conditioner, surely he wouldn’t mind… right?
Lucifer
100% smells it on you no matter how little you used
Won’t tease you in public but as soon as ya’ll are alone? Ho ho, he’ll never shut up about it
Smug, the definition of smug
You had to go and inflate the ego of The Lord of Pride even more
Very possessive afterwards
Congrats, You know have a scary guard dog demon!
Mammon
He probably wouldn’t even really notice at first
He’d probably compliment how good you smell, Then would slowly realize…
Great, Now he's yelling gibberish while his face slowly gets redder and redder
“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, don’t do that to me!” But will become very clingy
If you say his shampoo smells good, he may lose his mind.
“Well of course ya wanted to smell Like the great Mammon!”
Levi
Poor awkward nerd
He never saw this coming
I think he would realize you used his shampoo but won’t say anything
Flustered to the max
You have broken him
Levi.404 has stopped working, please reset.
After like the third day, You’re gonna have to bring it up
Secretly really likes it, Won’t tell you that though
Satan
I think he is very picky about scents so he knows as soon as you walk into the room
A little bit of a tease, asking if you were trying out a new shampoo
Smug 2.0
He would tease you a little bit around the others but not bad
He would flood you with compliments, You using his shampoo would make him very lovey-dovey
Expect him to ask for ya’ll to just use the same stuff from now on
Asmo
Oh honey, he knows.
He knew before you even got out of the shower.
But that doesn't mean he's any less excited!
Better plug your ears because he will let out the loudest squeal known to mankind
Seriously, Lucifer may come and check on ya’ll helicopter mom
Asks what you do and don’t like about it
He just wants you to feel as fantastic as he does when using it
Everyone will know you used his shampoo, He brings it up in every conversation
Would also 100% ask you to use his bath products 24/7
Beel
Now Beel has never been really into insane products like Asmo or Luci
So he may not really recognize it at first
If you decide to tell him, This man will become a happy demon puddle
He’ll give you a big smile and tell you you’re free to use any of his stuff at anytime
We don’t deserve Beel
Will bury his face into your hair and just stay there
Takes you out to Hell’s kitchen that night just because he loves you so much
Belphie
Oh this little shit
Tease! He won’t quit bragging!!
Smug 3.0
Such a brat about it too, He won’t let anybody near you, Well of course he’d let Beel, but who wouldn't?
He has practically locked you up in the attic with him
Why go outside when ya’ll can cuddle?
Diavolo
Has really expensive products
He may even have a custom scent
If so, He’ll know instantly that you’ve used his shampoo
He’ll bring it up with a large grin on his face
When you confirm his suspicions, he’ll just laugh
He’s so happy ya’ll are close enough to share things like that, You have no idea!
He may make a sly comment to Barbatos or Lucifer just because he’s a little possessive
Will follow you around like a lost puppy, Now Barbatos is mad at you because even less of his work is done
He can’t help it! He just loves you!
Will be the third on my list to offer ya’ll to just share bath products
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me one master to rule them all#obey me x reader#obey me beelzebub#obey me diavolo#obey me fic#obey me mammon#self ship#obey me fluff#obey me hcs#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me asmodeus#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me belphie#obey me x you#obeymexreader#janus'writings#janus'asks#omswd#obey me fanfic#obey me fandom
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can you do a smut to fluff comfort where simon is overstimulating them and being super degrading and they safeword? Then Simon takes care of them and is basically just super sweet.
this has been sitting in my inbox for so long :( so sorry anon i hope you like it!!
cw — smut at first, degradation, use of safeword, gentle aftercare and lots of comfort.
simon had been frustrated that day, very frustrated after coming back from work. and you felt like trying something new for him.
“fucking slag… look at you takin’ this cock so well.” he spat bitterly, his girthy cock mercilessly ploughing into your tight cunt, his hands gripping your hips in a hard and bruising manner. “too dumb to even speak now, eh? only good for takin’ some cock.”
he had asked you so sweetly at first, if he could take his frustrations out on you, and you had agreed because you wanted to please your boyfriend so badly. plus some crappy porno made you think that rough sex can be amazing. silly reason, yeah.
but right now, all those insults spewing out of his mouth seemed genuine and scary, messing up with your head while your body was all sensitive from already orgasming a few times before. it was overwhelming, too overwhelming — and you knew that if you don’t speak up now, you’ll break down horribly anytime soon.
but god, you felt so guilty. you were supposed to be relaxing him, not turning it onto yourself.
“r-red…!” you managed to choke out, tears sliding down your cheeks as your fingers digged into his shoulder blades, causing simon to halt almost immediately.
“what?” his voice was gruff, eyes still a bit glossy from fucking you, though his grip had loosened significantly and worry was soon blooming onto his face.
“red…” you repeated weekly, lips wobbling as you quickly looked away, not wanting him to look at you crying over something like this.
simon gently eased himself out of you and rolled by your side, his calloused hands cradling your face. “oh, love… did i hurt you? was it too much?” he may have been sounding concerned and still reserved though he was internally panicking inside, wanting to rip and beat some sense into himself.
“yes,” you sniffled and nodded, your hands trembling as you leaned into his embrace, soft pants leaving your lips. “too rough..”
“fuck, m’sorry. so sorry, love. got carried away for a second, i-” he paused, his heart aching terribly with guilt and concern as he saw your face all soaked with tears. it soon dawned on him how mean he was being, even if you had agreed to it. he should’ve known that you were probably not used to this, maybe not even into it.
he slowly got up from the bed and helped you off the bed, his burly arms supporting you. he took you over to the bathroom and soon ran a warm bath for you, helping you sit in the bathtub, your little winces making his heart sink.
“i didn’t mean any of those words, y’know…” he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, his fingers gently caressing your head.
“i know…” you sniffled and smiled up at him sheepishly. “maybe i’m too soft for all that.”
simon sighed softly and sat by the edge of the bathtub, not caring about himself at all right now. all of his focus was solely on you, helping you clean yourself and dry up once you were done, dressing you in some comfortable pajamas.
once he came back after cleaning himself up, he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked over at you, his once stern brown eyes now soft with love and pain. “i’m so sorry, i mean it…”
“don’t apologise, si…” you gently wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands supporting your hips as he carefully propped you on top of him once he laid down, caressing your lower back.
“i love you… never wanna hurt you, y’know. m’so proud of you for speakin’ the safeword. so proud of you.” he smothered your head with chaste kisses, his breath caressing your skin.
“i love you too…” you mumbled softly, exhaustion soon taking over you. you let his heartbeat lull you into sleep alongside his soft murmurs, feeling safe once again.
#slowly getting back to answering reqs :3#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#cod x reader#call of duty#rurufic#ruru mail
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first in my heart
Astarion Ancunin x Reader
Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.
A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.
Word count: 4,7k
Masterlist
"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."
It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.
To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.
And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.
Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.
He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.
Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.
It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.
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The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.
The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.
You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.
With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.
"What are you up to, my sweet?"
The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.
The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.
You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.
Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."
You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.
Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"
The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."
Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."
He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.
⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆
Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.
You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.
Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.
He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.
And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"
A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.
You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.
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It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.
The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.
When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.
You didn't.
You said you cared for him. You hugged him.
There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.
Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.
He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.
Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.
Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.
There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.
With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.
It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.
With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.
But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.
The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.
Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.
Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.
"Astarion?"
With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.
"Is everything okay?"
Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.
Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"
The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.
You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."
But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?
Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.
He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.
Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.
He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.
Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.
Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.
And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.
He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.
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You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.
You could only hope he would adore it just as much.
It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.
Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.
You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.
Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.
You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.
With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.
You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.
"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.
He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.
You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.
"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.
You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."
His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.
"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.
A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.
You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.
"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.
For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.
You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.
"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.
Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.
"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"
You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."
A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.
You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.
Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.
The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.
A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.
He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.
People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.
Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.
Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.
You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.
Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.
"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.
"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."
Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.
There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.
Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.
You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.
When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."
You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
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Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us
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