You had always had a majority of luffy's attention since the day he saw you.
You were just so freaking majestic with your flowly hair,soft eyes, and oh so perfect lips.Yet you were so oblivious to luffy's undying fixation on you.
Despite himself,he only became this smitten version of himself when you two were alone or during really vulnerable momments.Then in public(infront of the crew) you were just his crewmate.
Nothing less.
Nothing more.
ŕťęą
It was a warm day on the sunny,Zoro was taking a nap in the crows nest snoring for the whole grand line to hear;Sanji in the kitchen preparing you nami and robin some snacks;Usopp was practicing his aim with franky being the dartboard and chopper his hypeman; Robin was in the study with Nami as they reveiwed various topics;and you were quietly sewing designs onto your handmade bag in your cozy pillow space you called your bed.
Everything was so perfectly domesticated.
'Mhmmmmm'
'Oh?'
Warm toned tanned arms wrapped around your neck as a certain someone's face found it's way to the crook of your neck.
You smiled gently and then put your needle and bag on your bedside table.
'Hey,you.'you turned yourself to face him and hugged him back â with the way he melted into you,you would've thought you were holding a beanbag.
'I've missed you.'
A soft huff of laughter escaped your lips.
'Lu,you saw me at breakfast'
He put his head on your chest.You took his chin in your dainty fingers tilting his head up towards you only to be met with a look you'd never seen before.
It's wasn't lust.Not at all.
Just. . .adoration.
You could feel your cheeks burning hotter as your usual composed demeanour began to waver as per usual around him.
'Are you alright,darling?'
'Baby-'
You face softened as you sighed and looked away.
'Luffy don't please...not today.'
'Why?You are my baby, are you not?'
He lifted his head off your chest to look at you with those gentle eyes.
'Darling,' you look down at your hands adorn with rings.'you know we can't'
'Why?Is it because you're slightly taller?It's only by like an inch!'
You chuckled softly.'No.We can't because it's not fair on the crew.' You took his hand in yours and kissed his knuckles. Depsite you being taller, he still had fairly larger hands.
His brows knitted together and he tilted his head.
'But i want you and you want me too.'
'I can't...Luffy's it's not...practical.What if we break up or get into an agruement,how will that affect the crew?'
'But i'd be a really good boyfriend to you.I'll buy you flowers and all that mushy stuff.'
You looked back up at him.
'We can't,lu.I-I can't.I can't bring myself to be the reason you have favourites or we argue and it shifts things between the crew.'
His hand pushes you down against your shoulder sending you softly into your pillow skip of a bed.
'But i love you.Like a alot.'He rested his forearms either side of your head.
'I'd be a really good boyfriend i promise'
You smile gently.
'Yeah?'Your hands pull him closer by the collar.
'Mhm,i'd even share my food with you.'
'That's a really big step...'you had this little smile on your face that just mad him wanna kiss you senseless.
'Only for you.' He chuckled.Your hands navigated their way up his his abs,to his chest,then his neck,stopping at his defined jawline.Some of your fingers weaved their way thorugh his untamed black locks.
His calloused hand came up to take off his hat then put it on your side dresser with your long forgotten about bag.
'You're rather touchy for someone who said they couldn't because they didn't wanna hurt their crew.'
'I guess i'll give you this one fleeting momment.You are captain after all.'
ŕťęą.
Your neck was littered with all sorts of claims from luffy.A hickey here,a bite there, and even just a little nick on your collarbone.
A huff left your lips, and the guilt started to settle in your gut.
He propped himself up on his elbow and hovered over you.
'Wanna cuddle?'
'Luffy,we can't.'
'But i wanna.' His face settled on a subtle pout.
'I really want to as well but it's not fair on everyone else.How would the crew fee-?'
'Why don't you think about how you feel about this?Why does it matter what others think or say?'
Your face softened.
'Because. . .'
He kissed your cheek gently, then lay down, bringing your head to his chest, and you just let him.
You rubbed his chest gently.
'Do you really think it wouldn't make a difference?'
'Nah.'
Your half lidded eyes looked up at him.
How could he be so calm about this?You felt like you were jeopardising everything all for a few fleeting moments and occasional kisses.
He looked down at you and laughed.'What?'
You just nuzzled your head into his neck.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you were together...
You're too scared to give yourself injections, so your doctor boyfriend does it for you.
Unfortunately for you, the pharmacy was out of gel at the moment. Fortunately for you, you were able to keep taking T until the restocked via injection. Unfortunately, again for you... you were too scared. You'd never liked needles. Not to the point of screaming and crying in fear, but you always had to look away and grit your teeth whenever you needed one. But fortunately, again, for you, your boyfriend was a doctor.
"Make sure you get your levels checked next month, okay?" Zayne muttered, preparing the needle like it was second nature to him.
Swift yet precise hands filling the syringe, disinfecting the injection area, bandaid ready to go.
"I know, you'll never let me forget checkups," you replied, head turned away from him to avoid seeing the needle.
Zayne never mocked you for the nerves. It was a simple survival instinct to not like something that hurts, and knowing that something that hurts is coming just makes anxiety and anticipation for the moment of impact worse. He would flinch slightly himself wherever he'd needed something injected, and this was a man who operated on beating hearts.
"Ready?" He asked.
"Mhm" you muttered in reply, one hand slightly tightening its grip on his knee.
You flinched slightly at the sensation, the sharp prick in your skin and needle sitting inside your body for a moment while the solution was injected. Only about ten seconds, but enough to make you tense slightly from the general feeling of sharpness. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone. Replaced by a soft pressure over the injection area, Zayned skilled fingers pressing a cotton ball to it to prevent any bleeding. Finally, you could turn back to pool at him. You gave him a thankful smile, and got a soft smile in return.
"Do I get a lollipop for being so brave, Doctor Zayne?" You joked.
"There's plenty of snacks in the pantry to choose from" he replied, pressing the bandaid to your skin. "Done"
"Thank you"
Zayne packed everything away properly, planning on taking the sharps into work to properly dispose of, setting it all aside out of the way for now. You got up, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.
"Good thing my boyfriend is a doctor. I'd not have been able to jab myself. My brain just won't let my hands do it" you said.
Zayne wrapped his arms around you in return, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"How lucky of you. Now, how about we listen to said doctor when he tells you to cut back on the caffine? He teased.
"Says Mr 12 hour night shift"
Well... he couldn't really argue with that. He'd had that exact shift and several cups of coffee just a few days ago.
Almost immediately, he panics. Fear strikes his chest as he sits up, searching for your figure. Sure, you'd had an argument before bed, but you hadn't left, right?
Right?
When he stumbles into the living room, about to run out the door and see if your car still sits in the driveway, the figure on the couch makes him stop dead in his tracks. Were you really so upset that you couldn't even bear to sleep next to him?
He doesn't want to wake you, but he can't allow this, seeing your hunched form on the not-great-for-sleeping couch, tucked under a too thin blanket. Crossing the room quietly, he scoops you into his hold, lifting you from the couch.
You stir, but miracously don't wake, relaxing as he takes small steps up to the bedroom.
He's made it up in his mind to sleep in the guestroom once he lays you down on your side of the shared bed. Zayne wants to respect your wishes after all, even if he knows he won't get a minute of sleep being apart from you.
But when he goes to pull away, your grip on his shirt tightens. Before he can unclench your fingers, you tug, and he finds himself climbing into the bed beside you.
The pinched expression on your face eases, shifting closer to him. He can't bring himself to move away, and instinct has his arms wrapping around you. Something in his chest eases the moment he holds you, the tension leaving his body.
"I don't like going to sleep mad." Your words nearly make him jump. He'd believed you were asleep this whole time, but of course you were awake.
"Me either." He murmurs, holding you a little tighter. You relax into him, melding your body against his in a way that sends butterflies through his stomach.
With your warmth pressed close to him, he can finally sleep.
Yandere that enjoys having a willing darling, but their darling is absolutely a feral beast that theyâre kind of scared of.
They attempt to go check on you where youâve been locked up in the basement, but youâre standing by the stairs in the dark, wide eyes bloodshot and nails digging into the wall.
Absolutely not, yandere slams the door and almost pisses their pants.
You kind of haunt the house. Yandere still loves you but youâve somehow become more unhinged than them. Too many times theyâve tried to intimidate you but youâve started growling like a rabid dog. How are they supposed to deal with that?
Itâs a competition now, and tbh youâre winning.
need mihawk and shanks to get competitive in their middle age and make a game of âstealingâ their mutual lover from each other (with THEIR permission). occasionally they call a truce or eventually declare a winner and you get to enjoy as much peace as you ever get with them.
(about 1k, mostly fluffy, some suggestive content | mdni)
Itâs rare for the Red Force's deck to go so quiet, but in the early morning hours where colors begin to streak light across the sky, all you hear are the rippling sea and sails. Everyoneâs long gone to bed, save whoeverâs taking a shift in the crowâs nest. Theyâre just as likely to be asleep, in truth, just as you had been until something coaxed you from the warmth of your shared bed in the captainâs quarters.
A change in air pressure, perhaps, like a storm rolling in or a breeze breaking through. A shift into cooler waters. Still, you pull your cloak tighter and scan the horizon, waiting for the subtle feeling to sharpen into something you can put your finger on, even if you shouldnât, like the edge of a blade.
There. Not far from the ship now, a small boat bobs beneath a still silhouette recognizable by the shape of his shadow. A sword towers over his massive hat. Behind him, the mast rises in the same shape, all harsh angles. As the boat nears, he only tilts his head to look up, golden eyes glinting in the low light. The corners of his mouth curl ever so slightly.
âMust I come up and steal you away, or will you take pity on my old shoulders?â As if he cannot still wield Yoru with the grace of a swordsman half his age and twice his size.
Still, you smother your laugh while looking over each shoulder, clutching your hands to your chest in a playhouseâs depiction of fearful martyrdom. âIf it is the only way to save my crew, thenâŚâ His boat is close to one of the ladders. You go to it, unknotting your cloak to leave it in a heap on the deck, a sign youâve gone, though Shanks will know.
Mihawkâs smile could carve the dark.
You spare one glance toward the crow's nest, curious until you catch sight of Beckman watching from high above. He winks, then settles back as if he's slept all this time, none the wiser as another vessel came to claim you in the night. You can practically hear him lamenting on the theatrics he'll indulge in for a pretty face.
Mihawk's hands steady you as you let go of the ship, moving from the ladder's lowest rung to his coffin-shaped boat gracefully after all the times you've done just this.
It's not quite cat and mouse, for though Mihawk and Shanks have chased each other plenty, it's you that they ferry back and forth now under a pretense of villainy. This game has only your piece on the board, a shining pearl ever moving between the sea and the fog-drenched island that feels practically at the end of the world.
It doesn't take long to get there tonight, wrapped in rarely relaxed arms as you near the half-obscured shore. Kuraigana had been your destination, after all. Even without rushing, Shanks and his crew are likely to dock before midday, encouraging you to take your peace while it lasts.
Mihawk removes his hat when he gets you home, revealing temples streaked silver in dawn's weak light. Your lips find his pulse there, the corners of his mouth, the hard muscle in his jaw that eases beneath your mouth. You have just the time for a few languid hours in the library, reacquainting yourself with the full shelves and the velvet chaise and the man who hasn't taken a hand off you since you disembarked.
You both await the Red Force in the harbor, your dress a drama of its own where it blows with the mist. Mihawk's foregone his usual attire and left Yoru inside for this meeting. Some pirates pose no threat, after all â not here. The sun must be high when the ship arrives, but the ever-present clouds and fog surrounding the island mute the day's light and color. Shades of scarlet, though, seem vibrant as ever when he come into view.
"I call a truce!" Shanks shouts from where he stands on the Red Force seemingly on top of the world. His cloak billows from his back. Yours is draped over his remaining arm.
Parley, you mouth. It's as though he never remembers his lines.
"How about calling a winner?" Mihawk doesn't raise his voice, doesn't have to. The sea and sky always seem to quiet for his words.
"For the night, perhaps." Shanks' feet find the rocky shore and he strides across the distance, hand lifting at his side in anticipation of a reunion.
Mihawk scoffs but tangles elegant fingers between roughened ones. "Time will tell."
There's the business of getting the crew settled, then of arranging dinner for pirates and wards and yourselves. Despite their reputations, your lovers work well together, all preparations going toward the promise of a peaceful night.
You get it (and more) when the castle's gone shadowed and quiet. The hours turn small and sticky in bed, running together pleasantly until the beat of your heart slows and your body relaxes, content to lie in shared sweat until you're coaxed into a still-steaming bath. Strong arms support you over thighs and against chests as you lounge until the water's nearly gone cold. The last of the candlelight sees you dried and dressed, your head well-kissed and tucked beneath chins as your breathing evens and the flame gutters out.
In the morning, Mihawk wakes early enough to prepare a feast, ordering you and Shanks to stay in bed but hiding a smile when your combined laughter fills his kitchen. You eat together, though the castle goes quiet in a familiar, unwelcome way when he goes to check on his student's progress with the sword. There's note on the table and no lovers in sight, as if the last day had been a dream.
He unfurls the paper, some of his own stationary, of course. He reads, rubs at his chest, smirks.
If Shanks has already stolen you away to visit a market on a nearby island, well. You'll both be back long before dinner, and he'll have bought you something pretty to repay the debt of a ruined dress.
"I just wanted to come and say sorry..." You're standing in the doorway of Zayne's home office, completely naked. It seemed the best way to make him accept your apology.
"Mhm." He hums, still not looking up from his screen. You can't help but smile, leaning against the frame and getting comfortable.
"I said some things I shouldn't have...I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me?" His typing pauses as he mulls over your words, and then finally looks up.
To his credit, his eyes find your face first, hard gaze immediately softening. But then they flicker down, and he does a visible double take.
Jackpot.
His laptop shuts decisively, and he's quick to stand, leaving his desk faster than you've ever seen.
"S-so do you forgive me?" He's already moving to kiss you, freezing his actions and then tilting his head in confusion.
"Of course. I'm not upset at all." His hand trails down, making you shiver at his touch. Still, you push forward.
"You were pretty mad before...are you sure?" Your tone gives him a hint, and understanding dawns on him, a smirk finding its way on his face as his hand grabs the soft flesh of your ass.
"Now that you remind me, I'm not quite sure I should forgive you just yet. How exactly do you plan to make it up to me?"
"I-I suppose I could beg..." He has you pinned against the doorframe, and you quickly realize how easily you lost the upperhand. Ah, well. Not like you ever had it in the first place.
"That's a good idea. But it would be much more effective on your knees, wouldn't you say?"
18+ mdni | what happens when you use your safe word with the liâs? (separate)
TW. SAFE WORD USE (itâs gonna be diff flowers in this post), ROUGH s, oral (m + f), throat fucking, overstimulation, edging, s toys, anal, spanking, collar, leash, choking, restraints, guys like SERIOUSLY MEAN degradation, pet play, gagging, mention of nausea
ă ¤ę¨ď¸ xavier
xavierâs been at it for hours, slamming his hips against yours as if he had a personal vendetta against your cunt. back folded into a deep arch as he bullied his cock into your throbbing entrance, he was thrusting hard enough that you nearly hit the headboard with each push of his length into your hole, a tear-soaked pillow being the only thing to cushion your head.
âsuch a dirty fuckinâ girl, already filled you up twice nâ ya still want more?â he groaned, rough hands gripping your waist hard enough to bruise. you shook your head, choking out a sob of âslow downâ to no avail.
he grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail, pulling you towards him until the back of your head rested on his shoulder. âwant me to slow down? nah, i know you love it when i fuck you like a whore.â
tears spilled from your eyes as you searched for something to grab onto for comfort; the edge of the headboard, bedsheets, even his armâanything to ground you as he fucked you within an inch of consciousness. xavier laughed as he watched you struggle, pressing down on your lower abdomen and moaning when your walls tightened around him. âsay it. fuckinâ say youâre my dumb cum slutâ
he punctuated each word with a bruising thrust, finally pushing you over the edge as you screamed out your safe word âbluebellâ. his movements stopped immediately, the grip he had on you now gentle and holding you steady.
sobs wracked through your chest as he slowly withdrew from your throbbing hole, sitting you against the headboard before grabbing a tissue from the bedside. he wiped your tears and the sweat from your face before brushing your hair from your face, letting you calm yourself before daring to speak.
when your cries finally morphed into hiccups and eventually sniffles, xavier grabbed the cup of water next to your bed and watched you eagerly gulp it down, chuckling before stroking your hair.
âokay?â he questioned, voice a full 360 from just minutes ago. you nodded, beginning to apologize only for xavier to shut you down immediately. âhey, i was pushing it. iâm sorry, thank you for using it. why donât we jusâ sit a bit, yeah?â
you nodded, appreciating the kindness and understanding from your partner. xavier sat next to you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as he stroked up and down your arm, listing the new plushies available in the arcade near your house to help ease the tension in the air.
ă ¤ę¨ď¸ zayne
you vision went white as zayne drew another orgasm from you, wetness shooting from your cunt onto his eager face as his fingers continuously rubbed that one spot he knew all too well.
his lips attached to your clit, sucking vigorously as his long digits began to scissor inside your hole once more, your hips trembling under his grip. he laughed against your cunt, giddy at the reactions your body so easily gave him. âso easy for me, huh? donât even have to try and i have you creaming on my tongueâ
you whined his name, hands desperately trying to push away his head from your overstimulated core only for him to grab both wrists with his free hand. âyou begged me to cum and now youâre complaining?â he scoffed, pulling his fingers out only to suck them into his mouth before roughly shoving them into you again. âweâre done when i fuckinâ say soâ
âz-zaynieâŚplease, need a breakâ you sobbed, heartbeat thumping in your ears as you felt another mind shattering orgasm coming. your cries only fuelled his ministrations, climax suddenly washing over you with your legs going limp as uncomfortable shocks ran through your body. just as you thought he was finally finished, zayne began slapping your cunt, drawing more spurts of fluid from your entrance. the cruel overstimulation had you screaming out âlilacâ before you even knew it, zaynes insistent movement ceasing at once.
he wiped his hands on his pants, quickly moving up towards you and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. âhi sweet angel. iâm so, so, so sorry, tell me what you needâ he muttered between small pecks, pulling back to see tears welling in your eyes. his heart ached as he realized your current state was because of his actions.
âj-jusâ need a secâ you hiccuped, reaching for him and pulling him towards your side. âdonât wanna stop, just need a breatherâ
he let out a sigh of relief, nodding and quickly slinging an arm around you as you curled into him. your body trembled while the rise and fall of his chest soothed you, nerves slowly easing as each second ticked by. zayne stayed close to you, brushing his fingers through your hair and taking up the space you allowed him to.
ă ¤ę¨ď¸ raf
your throat bulged with rafayels cock as he rutted into your mouth, groaning when your nails raked down his thighs. your head hung off the edge of the bed, the slap of his heavy balls against your face with every thrust making you dizzy with lust. you felt his length still inside your throat, a large hand stroking the outline of his huge cock over your neck.
âm-made for this, right? fuck you take it so goodâ his needy voice moaned, palms roughly slapping your tits before he started his movements again. âloosen up for me princess, breathe through your nose like i taught youâ
you tried to follow his instructions, lungs burning as your nostrils flared with effort, trying to inhale any air you could. your hands began to shake as you started to push his hips away, unable to suck in any air with his steady presence over you. he laughed before withdrawing his cock from your lips, pupils dilating while watching you gasp for air.
just as you felt your body begin to calm down, rafayel slapped the tip of his length against your lips, motioning for you to open your mouth for him once more. you shook your head desperately, hoarse voice rumbling out âtulipsâ twice before he finally understood you.
rafayel immediately helped you up, a hand steadying your back as you continued to even your breathing. you pulled his looming body towards you and inhaled the familiar floral scent of his laundry, forehead resting atop his flowy shirt. the tightness in your chest eased as he stroked your back, apologizing for going too far. you sat like that for a few more minutes until finally moving back at the feeling of his body beginning to shake.
your eyes flitted up to find rafayel crying, his long fingers quickly swiping away the tears before apologizing. âiâm sorry, jusâ feel so bad i pushed you.â
you chuckled at the endearing display, pulling him next to you on the bed and trying to ease his overwhelming emotions the same way he did you.
ă ¤ę¨ď¸ caleb
you watched with bated breath as caleb increased the pace of the bullet vibe inside of you, messy cunt dripping onto the sheets under you while your limbs pulled at the restraints he had you tied in.
heâd edged you three times already, punishing you for âlaughing too hardâ at your coworkers joke. this wasnât new for the two of you, one of calebâs favourite things to do being you tied up, begging and crying for him to let you cum. the sound of your voice pitching up while tears trailed down your face was simply music to his ears.
today though, you felt yourself rapidly approaching your limit, body beginning to shake uncomfortably as he ruined your climax once again with an evil grin.
âawww, whatâs wrong pips? ya mad iâm treating you like a whore? maybe you shouldnât act like a free-use slut then, hm?â
the mean words had your cunt squeezing around the vibrating toy buried between your walls, an intense burn running through your nerves as he raised the intensity to the highest level.
âwanna hear you tell me why im punishing you. let me hear you say youâre a brainless cockwhoreâ
a sob ripped through your throat at the cruel tone in his voice, body twisting as you tried to get away from the stimulation. his raucous laugh was your last straw, the word âsunflowerâ falling from your lips making him turn off the vibe completely.
you continued to shake as he untied your restraints, massaging the tired muscles as blood flowed back into them. caleb crawled towards you after soothing the red skin, gently laying your head on his chest and lightly patting your back. âdid too much, iâm sorry babyâ he whispered against your scalp, letting your breathing steady before finally sitting you up.
he wiped the tears on your lash line before grabbing the cup of water on your bedside table, letting you sip it slowly. after he was sure you were fully calm and back in your body, caleb asked you what you needed next, letting you lead his movements in a way you wanted.
ă ¤ę¨ď¸ sylus
the sharp sting of sylusâ hand against your ass had you screaming, blood-red skin tender to the touch with each heavy hit he landed on you.
you intended for the night to end this way, hoping your teasing touches and annoyed glares would be enough to make him âpunishâ you. sylus knew this of course and was glad to fulfill your wishes, but he was unintentionally taking out his work stress on you as well. the month had been slow and while he didnât have to worry about money, he still did. he was always concerned he wouldnât be able to give you the life you deserved, so any time business was slower, his worries crept to the front of his mind.
his jaw tensed as you began to squirm in his hold, trying to wriggle out of his harsh grip to no avail. he scoffed at your movements, stroking the burning skin on your ass and watching how you flinched with every touch. âpretending you donât want it when i can see how wet you are.â
you unconsciously squeezed your thighs together, shame filling you as you questioned whether or not you were sick for getting off to this. your train of thought was interrupted as he landed four consecutive slaps to your upper thighs and each cheek, a hoarse scream falling from your lips before you began to continuously mutter ârosesâ under your breath.
you werenât sure if heâd even be able to hear you (he was old asf his hearing was leaving fr) but sylus immediately turned you over and cradled you in his arms, making sure to avoid the sensitive skin on your bottom. tears continued to flow down your face as he soothed you, mumbling âwhat a good girl you wereâ and how he was âsorry he went too farâ.
you let him carry you to your bedroom and lay you on your front, applying a gentle analgesic to the tender skin on your behind. after you were settled sylus climbed in next to you, gently rubbing your back and letting your brain quiet before asking what you needed next.
ă ¤ę¨ď¸ valko
valko tugged the leash attached to your collar, pulling you along as he walked to your bedroom. ât-too hardâ you tried to speak, quickly cut off by another harsh pull on your throat.
âdogs donât fuckinâ talkâyou wanna speak, youâre gonna bark like the bitch you areâ
you were the one to bring up petplay, asking if it was something heâd be into. valko immediately agreed, listing off the reasons why heâd be the perfect pup until you corrected him and said you wanted to try it this time.
he easily fell into the role of a dominating owner, rough movements indicating heâd been imagining this for a while now.
you watched as he sat on the edge of the bed, waiting until you crawled between his knees before giving you your next instruction. âlet me see your pretty tongue, puppyâ
you hesitantly stuck out the muscle, eyes widening as he spit on it. you were about to swallow it until he roughly grabbed your tongue between two fingers, shoving another two digits down your throat and smirking as you took them eagerly. your eyes rolled back as he touched the back of your throat with ease, gagging when he pushed further.
you expected him to withdraw them at the first sign of resistance, but valko continued to tease your throat, forcing his fingers down and encouraging you to take them until you felt yourself preparing to vomit.
a gurgled version of âliliesâ fell from your lips, valkos eyes widening before finally relenting and letting you swallow down your nausea. he stared in surprise as he realized heâd gone too far, apologies quickly falling from his lips before he scrambled for a tissue to wipe your face with.
you laughed at his antics before stroking his cheek, letting him know you just needed a break. he loosened your collar to give you more room to breathe, moving to get you a cup of water and letting you gulp it down before letting you lead the way.
Š all work belongs to @luvyizhou on tumblr, 2026. do NOT use, repost, or feed any of my work into AI or other websites.
Sandor Clegane x fem reader // you're a maid: misogyny, sexual content 18+, westeros typical attitudes and language, painful sex + size kink, breeding kink, dubcon-ish, abrupt ending
Sandor is used to being given a wide berth.
The maids scurry around him like mice, back and forth and around, most of them used to him if not used to looking at their feet when heâs around. Sheep parting for a sharpeyed herding dog, nervous fillies tensing and changing course as they sense dangerâ itâs fine.
He prefers it that way, doesnât want to have to bark all day to unstick the innumerable tittering servants that populate the keep from his sides.
Part of it is his size, the other his burns, the gnarled skin that makes most of the barrage turn their eyes away for fear of finding his eyes and thus finding his anger. Joffrey knows well enough how to use it to his advantage, knew when he chose the Hound for his personal protector.
Heâs got no issue with the coin, with the status. Mostly he takes two steps forward and whoeverâs got any issue with the king or otherwise takes three steps back. When heâs dismissed from duty he drinks or fucks or takes Stranger out for exercise, anything to numb his mind and shake the energy from his muscles which leaves him feeling like a beehive.
The kennel master makes the dogs run at the shallow edge of the Kingswood if they get too rowdy. He laughs a great laugh when he sees Sandor return sweaty from the same woods atop Stranger for the same purpose, the only man not afraid to.
Youâre a nuisance at first. Clumsy for a maid, newâ you wonât last long.
He sees you spill three goblets of the good stuff trying to take it up the stairs on a tray, then the next night at dinner a whole roasted quail and all the golden potatoes made special for the queen regent. A splatter of juice at your feet, tears in your eyes, you brush by his shoulder to beg the kitchens for another.
Sandor knows the population of labourers swells and abates nearer to and further from grand events, but he wonders if theyâre really so desperate they havenât thrown you out or let king at you for all the trouble you've caused.
The tourney for the nameday of the golden princess grows nearer, amplifying the chaos behind the velvet curtains where the bluebloods canât see. The kitchens smell perpetually of bread and meat and herbs, of sweat and toil. You hide there when you can, thinking no one will notice, that nobody can see. His eyes flit to you when he walks by or through, where youâre begging to just be made to peel potatoes or stir a great pot of sweet smelling broth.
âPlease, theyâre already cross with me,â you whine, soft and insistent, fingers twisted in your cream coloured skirts.
Sylvanna the old kitchen maid always takes pity, always negotiates with the stewards to let you be useful here rather than disruptive in the hall or gods forbid serving a noble. Three of her now grown children work in the keep, and you seem to have weaseled your way into her maternal old heart.
He tries to pay no mind, knows youâll likely be gone soon after the festivities are over and therefore he doesnât feel the need to do much more than snap at you when you bump into him and then watch your ass in those skirts move as you scurry away.
Sandor would never force a woman, but he won't keep himself from looking and lusting, of thinking of the way your voice goes high when you've gotten in trouble yet again and how it might sound when you're full of his cock, the way you might look with your dress pulled down and those sweet tits dangling in his face. He's no more than a man, and he'll honor his urges by fisting his cock to the thought of lapping at your cunt if he wants.
He finds you smeared in mud after a smattering of rain one morning, herbs tucked into the apron of your uniform, hands full of leaves, the unnecessary shit nobles need to eat their food. You're rushing, flustered again, hands making a mess of the gardens.
âThey'll whip you for that,â he grunts, âlooks like a rabbit's been at it.â
You look up, eyes wide with a familiar fear. It makes him sneer.
âI'm to take all the rosemary toââ
âAre you supposed to tear up the roots, too, little rabbit?â
You pause, and your mouth works for a moment. The garden bed is a mess, and half the rosemary you've got is the woody ends, the roots pulled right from the ground.
The realization dawns on you at the same moment he steps forward, and you lean back, whispering, âthat's why it was so toughâŚâ
He laughs, neither cruel nor kind. When his leather clad hand curls around the pommel of his shorter blade, your eyes widen and you fall back onto your bum as he draws the steel out.
âI didn't mean toââ you squeak, poor little rabbit. He cuts the remaining herbs and leaves the stump to grow back again, tossing the plants to the ground. You sag in relief.
âAre you simple?â He knows you aren't, he only wants to be abrasive, wants to punish the fear you felt, make you feel silly for thinking he'd cut you down over some rosemary.
He's a dog, not a monster. Though he benefits from his reputation, he isn't Gregor.
âNo, I'm not- I'm sorry, I thoughtâŚâ you look away, standing, mud on your skirt.
âThat the castle dog would maul your pretty neck?â
âI'm not used to seeing steel!â You insist. He can't tell if you're truthful. âI was just startled is all.â
He straightens fully, towers above you, feels acutely aware of his face and his stature as he grunts, âno? That was the smaller one.â
You step around him on the soggy garden ground and, like prey, your eyes follow him from the side. He finds it both tired and endearing.
He wonders how you'd look at him should he reveal he's got no sword for you but instead a long hard cock.
âThank you for your help,â you say quickly, before disappearing.
The next time he sees you is in the stables. Stranger has been snuffling around a ripe new mare, and now nobody but Sandor can brush him down and put him away for the night. Too rowdy, his boy. Too like his rider.
It isn't until the padlock is shut that he hears you again with your tears. Soft, weeping just behind the wall. He pauses.
âI haven't got the coin,â your voice is quiet, miserable, âthey haven't paid us yet.â
The low murmur of another voice, something he canât make out, sounds angry, pointy. He hears you sniffle loudly, hears the shuffle of feet.
The conversation peters off, until he hears you walk around the stable and back towards the keep.
Sandor steps into your pathâhe can be quiet when he wants.
Itâs not the first time heâs startled you (he hopes not the last), and that little squeaky gasp is enough to rush blood to his cock, straining against armor, trying to get at you. Down, boy.
âWhatâs that youâre weeping about?â he looms, âpoor little rabbit. Not enough coin?â
The immediate scrunch of your nose and the pull of your lips makes him pulsate.
âThat wasnât any of your business, Ser.â
âNo?â he looks you up and down, lecherous, but not threatening. He stands still, lets you squirm, ânot a Ser.â
You return the look, only your eyes are far away, sad and frightened. The anxious expression on your face doesnât flag his cock, but it does make him curious.
âSomeone hurting you?â
That makes you pause, frown. You look up at him and your eyes are more focused, yet no less distrusting.
âWant me to kill them?â
The evening air is all he can feel for a moment, trapped so in your wide eyes, little rabbit girl and the sweet smell of her hair, her wet face, eyes lashes clinging together. You donât understandâ why should he offer such a thing? A beast like him.
âNothing so sweet as killing someone that deserves it,â he presses, âwho is it? Some ugly little whelp you took for a husband? That sorry fuck hit you?â
His eyes search for marks, knowing all too well the kinds of abuses women can suffer, especially in this godsforsaken castle. The image of his brother knighted still haunts him worse than the smell of his own skin charring.
Your mouth opens, moving againâcuteâ and you shake your head, âno, no. Iâm not married. Nobodyâs hurting me.â
âThen what?â he presses, reaching out quicker than you can anticipate and cupping his huge hand to your soft cheek. Not married. He looks down at your body, wants to see it swollen, trapped by a babe.
You look up at him, sucking in a soft breath, then rush, âI just needâ I need my coin from the steward, because,â you pause for a breath, âbecause Iâm in debt. Itâs stupid, it's all my fault. I just need to pay or they said theyâll burn my home down.â
Burn. That makes him freeze. Whoâd threaten such a thing against you? Youâre a silly, clumsy woman, what kind of trouble could you possibly be inâ he isnât naive enough anymore to believe in appearances anymore, but his gut tells him youâre as sweet as you look.
âWhat kind of fucking debt?â
âTheâ they wanted my house. But I grew up there! I was born in it, I wanted to have children there too, and who else has a house? Iâm fortunate to haveââ he stops you with a hand over your mouth. Littlefinger, that rodent had been buying up property, god knows for what. Sandor can picture it now, men at your door, demanding some kind of tax, punishing you until you're destitute, all for some fucking house heâs sure is smaller than Baelishâs room in the Keep.
âIâll take care of it.â
Your eyes, impossibly wide. You bravely pull his hand away from your mouth, holding his thick fingers with yours, âno! But how? I can pay, I think, I just need my salary.â
âYou think some fucking maids salary is going to satisfy that greedy bastard? I thought you said you werenât simple.â
It takes nine days to corner that smarmy cunt and make him accept Sandorâs coin, to back down to a threat and the promise that should Littlefinger not turn his sights to another place, then whoâs to stop the Hound from separating his head from that scrawny throat?
You find him in less than an hour after he leaves Baelish. Youâre panting, sweating, eyes wide and in awe as you see him, âSer!â
âNot a Ser,â he says, muscle memory.
âHow did you do it?â you step close, too close. All your fear is gone, all that weight. He feels a smidge of something warm in his belly.
He tells you the truthâ
You touch his armor and look up, wide eyes and sweet face, âhow can I repay you?â
Sandor brings you to his preferred inn. Far, but worth the ride for its privacy. The innkeep isnât afraid of him and the tavern girls are getting there, too. They know heâs there to drink and sleep, sometimes to bring a whore for the night. They know he wonât hurt them.
You lean back against his chest the entire way, watching as the city thins enough to relax, as the smells abate. Youâd kissed his cheek and smiled when he asked to take you to bed, naive girl. He wants to marry you, but he won't say it yet. Wants to pump you full of brats and fill that empty house of yours just to see you smile again.
Thereâs no need for drinks, though he offers anywayâ wine? Ale? You shake your head to both, insisting on seeing the room first. Iâve never been in an inn you say, like it's fancy. He supposes youâd have no need to, no extra coin to. It was stupid and brave to try and pay Littlefinger with a maids salary, now you can keep it all.
He pulls your dress down to see what heâs been waiting for for weeks, exposing your tits to the air, hunching down and bringing one to his mouth so he can suck on your tight nipple.
His mouth lavishes them, enjoys the feeling of soft skin in his mouth and the smell of your soap, the breaths form your lips.
When you see him, that angry red bobbing cock springing free from his britches, you swallow, âthatâ itâs way too big.â
âA maid, then?â he says against the skin of your soft breast, fingers hiking your dress up, finding the wet seam of your cunt. No underclothes. Youâre soft there, too, skin and hair caressing his hand, sweet little pussy.
âNo,â you shake your head, âI almost got married once. But you're much bigger than he was.â
He laughs, hitches you further up the bed by cupping your ladyâs place and pulling, making you squeak. Sandor has always known heâs bigger than most, but he loves to hear it. Especially from a pretty woman, in bed with him without the promise of coin.
âIâll lick you first,â he bunches your skirts up and pushes them up to your stomach, laying down to reach your pussy.
Heâs only a man, and this is just the sweetest sight. Youâre damp for him between the thighs, plush and pretty. His thumb finds the junction between your thigh and groin and presses there, fingers curling around your asscheck, as he leans forward and sniffs.
âOh, donât!â you cry out, bending so as to pull away.
âYouâre in bed with a fucking hound,â he presses his nose to the slit of you, breathing in your sweet musk. You lay back down. Sandor puts his tongue on you, splits you with it, sliding through your folds like tasting the most decadent meal. He pushes it inside, tasting your hole, making an introduction before his cock arrives.
You keen, high, as loud as you wantâ whoâs going to interrupt Clegane in bed? Nobody who wants to keep their head. When he comes up to suck on your swollen clit, you shout your pleasure into the air.
Itâs only when he can fit four thick fingers inside you that he sits back up and presses the head of his cock to you, an angry ram battering down the door. You tense for a moment as he pushes in, holding your breath.
âYou can take it,â he slides further, âfeel that?â
Your pussy squeezes him, involunterarily or not, he snarls with how tight you are around him, âsweetest fucking cunt Iâve ever had. Grateful fucking cunt.â
You make a pained little sound as he pushes in another inch or so, a squeak, your pussy squeezing around him like a vice. He knows heâs a big man, shushes you by rubbing your flank like a horse, âhush, girl.â
âItâs hurting,â you complain, bottom lip pushed out, hips wiggling to try and make space, âjust waitââ
âYouâre almost there,â heâs not lying, thereâs only half an inch or so until heâll be buried all the way up your snug cunt, but he doesnât want to make you suffer. No, he just needs you a little wetter, so he waits right there and swipes a tough thumb over your begging clit. You gasp, and whine again.
âSan- Sandor,â your hand goes trying to grasp his wooly forearm, but youâre overwhelmed and uncoordinated, eyes glassy, fingers wiggling in the air, âstop, or Iâll come.â
âCome,â he doesnât stop, pulls back the delicate skin covering your precious clit and presses until he feels it jump and flex against his thumb, âwet my cock.â
A comet in the sky, a star bursting openâ youâre amazing to see, so open, shaking and squeezing on him, his cock sliding through the gush of your orgasm to bottom out.
âThatâs a good girl,â he encourages, not letting up, sliding back out through your soaked hole and back in. He abandons your clit and instead pulls back the wet lips of your pussy so he can watch himself disappear all the better inside you.
âLook.â
You do, head coming up, unfocused eyes searching for where he's connected to you. Youâre so full, he can tell by the way youâre gasping for every breath, fingers gripping your skirts now to hang onto anything, to pull them up so you can see too.
Sandor regrets not tearing the dress from your body when he could, laments that he canât see your belly so that he can picture what it might look like swollen up with his babe. He gives the fabric you're holding the stink eye, palms itching to hold your middle as he ploughs you like a ripe field.
âHowâs that big cock feel in your guts, little rabbit?â he pants, damp with sweat, the room hot. Wonders if his callouses and scars and body hair hurts your soft skin, âgonna be even more full when I give you my load.â
âMmhn,â you lift your eyes to him, mouth wide and open, âyouâll put a babe in me.â
âYeah?â he pumps you harder, watching himself disappear, fingers moving to your knees so he can push your legs back further, âcan feel how wet you are, doesnât sound like an issue. You want me to make you a mother?â
âPlease,â you nod slowly, rocked up the mattress by his thrusts, âoh, please.â
âPretty little rabbit,â he grunts, mouth curling into a snarl as he really starts to focus, âdonât know what youâre getting yourself into.â
The veins in his neck pop, throbbing in time with his cock, back aching from how frenzied heâs becoming. You begin to shout again when you can breathe, fingers clenched, pressed so against the mattress so that you canât move. Heâs going to pump you full, breed you, make you his.
âThatâs right,â he snarls, âIâm going to fill you up, rabbit, you hear? Best cunt I ever felt.â
That expressionâ she must have been made in the image of the Motherâ heâs heard it a thousand times, praise for delicate princesses full with the next heir, for the peasant girls that visit the king for him to bless their babies or swollen stomachs. Heâs tuned it all out, only ever interested in spilling outside or watching the woman heâs bedded drink her contraceptive.
Sandor understands, now, looking down at you. His muscles tighten, balls drawing up to his body as he fucks you hard with the singular goal of making you withchild. Of planting himself inside you and watching you grow and grow.
He lowers his face to yours and scratches your delicate neck with his stubble, growling promises threats in your ear about the way youâll need to depend on him after, about how heâs going to marry you after this. He watches the way your tits bounce, wants to see them leak with the evidence of this union.
His pace stays consistent even as he swipes over your clit again, demanding one more time for your surrender, waiting to come until youâve begun to shake again, begun to cry with the sensitivity.
He pulses inside of you, pressing all his weight down for a moment, snarling like an animal as he makes a mess.
Just as you begin to push weakly at his shoulders, he sits up, gingerly pulling his cock out. Youâre wide, swollen, leaking. He pushes a pillow under your hips and lays beside your exhausted body, murmuring, âthey make the royal ladies do this to make sure the seed took.â
You turn to him, pressing your forehead to his hairy chest.
âThatâs right, bunny,â he grunts, âhows it feel, hm? Nice and bred.â
The room was warm. Heavy with everything unsaid, everything you both felt.
You were curled up on top of him, thighs bracketing his hips, chests touching, lips brushing slow and unhurried. You could taste the salt on his tongue, the heat building in the space between you. And you could feel it, too, the way Luffyâs hands ghosted over your waist like he was holding back.
Like he wanted to do more, but was waiting on you.
You pulled back just enough to see him, eyes blown wide, cheeks pink, lips already kissed to the softest red.
âLuffyâŚâ you breathed.
He looked up at you like youâd just spoken the most important word in the world. His hands were steady on your hips now. Anchoring you. Letting you move if you wanted to.
ââŚdo you want to?â you asked, quieter now, breath a little shaky.
His gaze softened even more , impossibly gentle and he sat up slowly to bring your faces closer. âYeah,â he said, brushing his nose against yours. âOnly if you want to, too.â
You kissed him before answering, slow and sweet. Your body pressing tighter against his, letting him feel how ready you were, how warm and eager your thighs squeezed around him.
âI do,â you whispered.
And something shifted.
Luffy let out a slow breath, arms winding around you as he rolled his hips up just a little , letting the tension bloom between your bodies.
âYou wanna be on top again?â he murmured, voice low and warm. âWanna ride me, baby?â
Your face burned at the sound of it. But you nodded.
âIâll help you through it,â he promised, guiding your hips with strong, careful hands. âJust like before.â
And he did.
He laid back again, letting you take your place, every inch of movement building something deeper between you. He whispered little things while you sank down on him, his mouth brushing your chest, your shoulder, your throat, groaning quiet and slow like he couldnât take it.
âFuuuck⌠yeah, baby, just like thatâŚâ
You couldnât stop the way your hips moved fast, eager, too eager, the way your hands clutched his chest, trying to find somewhere to ground yourself. The pressure, the stretch, the heat was so much but it was all so good.
âLuffy-!â
He caught your waist with both hands, steadying you, slowing you.
âHey,â he whispered, smiling up at you, breath ragged, âeasy, baby⌠slower, yeah?â
You tried. You really did. But the moment you heard the next thing out of his mouth, your hips bucked again.
âWanna feel every part of you,â he rasped. âWanna watch you take me real slow.â
Your thighs trembled. His words sent heat rushing through you, and you leaned down to kiss him messy and desperate.
But still, his hands stayed at your hips. Helping you move. Slowing the rhythm. Letting you rise and fall onto him in long, deep strokes that had you both gasping.
âYâfeel so good, baby⌠shit, youâre perfect-â
âLuffy-!â
Your nails dug into his chest. He moaned quietly trying to be good, to stay quiet for the crew but you knew. You felt how close he was, how close you were.
His thumb slid between your legs, coaxing another cry from your lips.
âKeep goinâ, baby,â he whispered. âThatâs it⌠ride me just like thatâŚâ
And when you started to speed up again trying to chase that edge he held you tight.
âNo, no, slower, baby,â he breathed, voice low and strained. âWanna stay inside you longerâŚâ
You moaned, helpless in his grip, trembling as he helped you roll your hips in that sweet, slow pace. Your foreheads pressed together, sweat mingling, bodies pressed like one. His name fell from your lips again and again.
âLuffy- Luffy-â
âI got you, baby,â he whispered. âYouâre doinâ so good. Youâre makinâ me feel so goodâŚâ
And when you both finally came together, crying each otherâs names, you collapsed into his arms, shaking and full and loved.
âĄâĄâĄ
Š 2026 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.
After winning the Hand's Tourney, Sandor gets back to his chambers stupidly drunk and horny. You, his maid, have to turn into his babysitter for the night.
Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Fem!Reader
Tags: mentions of violence and blood, no use of y/n
Word count: 1.5k
A/N: first time writing from sandors pov omg / not tagging anyone cuz it is really just a drabble, just thought itd be fun to write and maybe yall'd like to read it
Every once in a while, the gods smiled upon the miserable, doomed souls. Just to remind people of how little they had, and how cruel the cunts could be. Today was one of these days, a day where Sandor had it all: as much wine as he could drink, all the food he could eat, a big fat bag of gold.
The best part? He got it all by fighting his brother. And winning. Technically.
The feast and the wine and the food were meant for the king to celebrate a tournament made for nothing other than spilling blood just for the sake of it, but if king Robert raised his goblet and cheered for him, than everybody else joined, even if they were all holding their breath over Sandor and Gregorâs fight. Or The Hound and The Mountainâs fight, and all the history behind it. Sandor knew the whispers and the twisted stories people liked to tell.
None of it mattered now that he was so drunk he barely stood up on his own feet. Sandor had stayed on the feast just long enough for people to stop coming to congratulate him, just long enough for the king to get drunk enough to forget about him, which was conveniently long enough for him to get drunk himself. Pushing the servant boy aside, Sandor got a wineskin full of the good wine they were serving and exited the room. He half remembered someone putting a flower crown on him, or trying to. Were he in his right mind, he wouldâve growled at them, but his head was so drowned in alcohol he just slapped the crown away. He might have stumbled on a wall or two before pushing open the door to his chambers, only to find you, a maid, inside it.Â
You were the same one from every other day, the one who swept his floor and cleaned the hearth. The one with the tight apron and the tits he wanted to suck on. Again.Â
Sandor closed the door by leaning on it, then took yet another large sip of wine. His body felt too light for his many pounds, and he lacked all the discipline a warrior ought to have. To hell with it, he had just faced his brother, and won. Technically.
âYouâre early.âyou said, not even turning to see him. You recognized his heavy steps. âWas the feast not to your liking?â
He grunted, letting his weight down on a chair. âFucking feastâŚâ He muttered, not even himself understanding half the words leaving his mouth or why he was saying them. The sound of the gold bag being put on the table did not startle you who kept on changing his bedsheets, bending down, your ass drawing all of his attention.
âWhat?â You smoothed the sheets with your hands, then turned around to face him, your eyes getting every detail of it: his dirty armor, the bag of gold, his heavy eyelids, the petals clinging to his neck. âYou won? I thought you were not even fighting today.â
âIâm a rich fucker now.â He sighed, sounding almost sober, almost resentful of his own words. No matter how many gold dragons he had, it was implicitly clear that coin, when possessed by people like him, was only meant for spending with whores, ale, maybe a good piece of fabric or shoes. His money did not mean much.
âYeah? And what are you doing with it?â You went on cleaning, too used to him. It was no news to see the Hound drunk or covered in someone elseâs blood. âYou could buy anything. Maybe hire another maid? This here is too much work for a woman alone.â
âIâll buy you a gag⌠noisy wench.â He rested his head on his hand, enjoying the silence and the darkness when he closed his heavy eyelids, then he turned his head just a bit, opened his good eye, looked you up and down as you went on cleaning.Â
You chuckled, as if the Hound was telling you a joke. You knew the noises of the tourney and the feast were probably still ringing in his ears, so you let that pass. âYou scowl harder when youâre drunk.â With a wet rag, you started cleaning the crumbs and dust out of the table, forcing Sandor to sit up straight to stay out of the way.Â
âSo, who did you fight?â
âMy big brothaâ.â Sandor scratched his beard, took another sip of wine, another look at your ass, then scratched his balls over his pants, which was not near enough. âHe was going to kill the Tyrell boy.âÂ
âSo you played the hero, mn?â You stopped, a hand on your hip, leaning against the table. âYouâre a real knight, Clegane.â He narrowed his eyes at the small smile you dared give him, the simple allusion of him being a knight making him disgusted enough to be repulsed by his dirty armor.Â
âPiss off, woman.â He cussed you out as he started fumbling with the straps of his chestplate, paying no attention to what he was doing because his eyes were still on your mouth. Then on your figure, your hips, your tits again. âYou should givâ me yer favor.âÂ
âFavors are for knights⌠from ladies. And it should happen before the tourney, should it not?â You left the wet cloth over the table to come help Sandor with his steel. He just let you, shoulders slumped.Â
Another sip of wine, another droop of his eyelids, another look at your hips, another throb of his cock, another grumble, another cuss, though he was not sure if he was grumbling and cussing out loud or on his mind.
â(...) shouldnât have changed the sheets until you've had a bath first.â You sighed, one strap untied, a few left to go. âYouâll have to get up.â He did. You tell a dog to sit, heâll sit. And heâll wait for a treat, which in this case meant his hands went straight to your hips. He saw you looking up at him, smirked, squeezed your hips, brought you closer, so closer you could barely reach the straps of his armor.Â
âWhat would you want as a token or favor, anyway? You should ask from ladies who have stuff to give away.â
That seemed to get him out of his drunken bliss.Â
âIâd get your apron.â He steadied himself, his grip turning a bit rougher. You laughed, pushed him back a bit, getting some room. Sandor pulled you right back in. He wanted to hump your leg like a dog, lick you all over like a dog, sleep for fifteen hours like a dog, fuck you like a dog. âTie you with it. Gag you with it.â
âYouâre drunk out of your mind, Clegane.â You pulled away, hung a piece of his armor, came back to pull out his gauntlets. âSo drunk you would probably pass out and crush me to death.â
He grumbled about not being drunk, and even though he did not remember closing his eyes, when they opened, he was sitting on his bed and you were kneeling in front of him. Your apron was still on, but his boots were coming off. He reached for your face, held your chin, pressed his thumb over your lips. He really just wanted his balls as empty as his mind was.
Eyes closed again. Just for a second. This time, he remained conscious as he said âWonât crush you. Iâll fuck you against the wall.â
âYou can barely stand up.â But he did, just to prove you wrong. âWell, you still stink.â You mirrored him, helping him out of his sweat-smelling shirt. âAnd youâre such a bad flirt.â
Sandor really needed some sleep. He wanted a warm bath first, and another sip of his wine, and the feel of you on top of him, and every time you worked another button of his shirt, he imagined your hands around his cock. Gods, he wanted to fuck you.Â
ââM not flirting.â He only registered what he was saying seconds after he already did. But the moment he got a handful of your ass, he felt it then and there. He felt himself lean in, closer, he felt your smell, he felt your lips on his, he felt you pulling back and he cursed. Maybe out loud, maybe in his head again.
âSit down, Clegane.â He obeyed, hoping to get a treat this time. Eyes closed, open again, and you were having a sip of his wine. âLay down. Close your eyes.â He did, grumbling about wanting to smell your cunt on his beard.
Sandor let out a big, deep sigh. When he felt you kiss him, he lifted his hand to pull you closer. Or maybe he just thought of it, imagined it. Or dreamed of it. When he woke up the next day, his room was clean, his armor hung on a corner, bag of gold safely tucked away on his chest, shirt hanging on the chair, boots by the bed⌠Everything in place, and you were not there.
â๨ŕ§ËâĄË ࣪ Zevlor loves a good creampie. Like, please let this old man cum deep within you!!! It will literally make him go insane, his tail thrashing around behind him as he fills you so full of his seed. Especially if you let me do it after only just meeting. Itâs been so long since heâs felt such warmth envelop his cock. Gods, and when he sees the way his white milky substance leaks out of you afterwards⌠itâs enough to keep him hard and wanting to go at it again. Maybe itâs part of the breeding kink he has, the dire need- of wanting a family to call his own. And you just look so pretty like this- with your legs spread and his cum spilling out.
â๨ŕ§ËâĄË ࣪ Haarlep is an incubus, a demon- a chaotic being so of course dacryphilia. Whether youâre crying from his cock stretching you or crying from the way this creature overstimulates you- he relishes in it. Haarlep adores taunting you, always adding a hint of mockery to his coos, âAwh my little Dove, does it hurt?â Before leaning down to lick away the tears running down that pretty face of yours he loves so much. âOr is it simply too much for your mortal body to endure?â As he lets out a wicked laugh, flashing you his infamous smirk.
â๨ŕ§ËâĄË ࣪ Rolan not only enjoys overstimulating you, but also craves being overstimulated himself. This grumpy tiefling wizard has more depth than meets the eye. Heâs so pent up from studying and perfecting new spells that when he finally gets his hands on you heâs using your body as a means of release. He unleashes all his frustrations on your tight little fuck hole, pounding you relentlessly with his cock. Bullying that body of yours until youâre nothing more than a babbling mess with your tongue lolled out, until his body gives up on him, collapsing on top of you, gasping for breath. The slightest touch sending his body into shock.
â๨ŕ§ËâĄË ࣪ Raphael is a cocky bastard, and everyone knows this. Gets off on denying you your orgasm. Loves being in control of your body, mind, and soul- the devil will wait until youâre begging for him to give you your release- begging for his cock acknowledging that only he can bring you such intense pleasure. Telling him that no one- nor anything matters, only him. Once youâve pleaded enough, heâll express how satisfied he is with your obedience and will hint at granting you that long awaited release.
â๨ŕ§ËâĄË ࣪ Wyll adores praising you, worshipping you in your intimate moments. He genuinely worshiped every aspect of you, even finding all your imperfections incredibly beautiful. Especially if you have a scar, no matter how small or large, heâll lovingly kiss along it. And he takes such delight in receiving the same level of adoration from you, as you worship his cock, the very cock that causes your toes to curl and your body to writhe beneath him.
â๨ŕ§ËâĄË ࣪ Listen, Halsin sometimes involuntarily shifts into a bear, and he always apologizes for it. But if you accept him for who he truly is, Gods heâll be utterly smitten with you. As things start to get a bit more steamy his body begins to glow as he transforms into his bear shape. But, if you playfully giggle at him and start to run, enticing him to chase you by wiggling your finger, oh yes, it will not only arouse him further to chase you, but also show him youâre open to some unconventional foreplay. Being a bear heâll eventually catch up to you and pounce on you as gently as he can. Itâs so endearing to him how you softly plead, âoh no~ plllleeeease~ someone help~â as your fingers run through his fur.
â๨ŕ§ËâĄË ࣪ Gale is so cute, he just absolutely craves the sensation of your fingers tugging at his hair while you ride his face. He always smiles while probing you with his tongue when he feels your nails digging into his scalp as his stubble tickles between your thighs. And when it comes to your hair, well you best believe this man takes joy in giving a gentle tug here and there. Not too rough, but enough to crane your neck back so that he can lock eyes with you before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
A tribute to the last patch of bg3 and in honour of starting my 12th playthrough (I havenât finished a single one so far)
Pairing: Astarion, Gale, Gortash, Raphael (+Haarlep) x gn!reader
Summary: How do they express their love for you, their love language and a bonus scenario.
Genre: Fluff, slightly suggestive in parts
Words: 4.1k
Note: this is kinda popping off soo if youâre interested in receiving a written letter by your favourite character, Iâm hosting a small event on my blog and anyone can participate!
(Not ascended)
Astarion AncunĂn // The Pale Elf
Words â 1k
Nibbling and biting.
This one is quite obvious. Although Astarion sinks his fangs into your neck every now and then to enjoy a treat, he also enjoys nibbling on you just because. His favourite areas to do so are your hands and fingers, shoulder and cheek. Biting your fingers in boredom when you are in bed with him, in his arms, you not paying attention to him while flipping pages through a book.
What else is he supposed to do other than take your free hand and nibble on your finger while silently brooding about you being oh so busy. Your hand is also a pleasant alternative.
Your shoulder feels like the perfect place to trail featherlight kisses followed by small nibbles here and there, firm enough for you to arch into them but soft enough to not make you bleed. He doesnât always have the need to chomp down and suck your blood out, you know.
Thatâs why Astarion sometimes leans down, bites and pull on your cheek a little instead of placing a small kiss. Itâs silly, but it makes you giggle and wince in surprise so thatâs perfect reason to keep doing it, especially when you expect a kiss and not him to bite you.
âI canât help myself dear. You are too delicious for me to resist, with or without blood, although a little snack would be a good bonus. If youâll let meâŚâ
Words of affirmation and/or sweet nothings.
You are used to Astarion flirting with you all day and night, but you notice how they slowly became less and less shameless and more sincere, in a way. Not that they werenât sincere before.
His eyes soften as they glaze over your face, his hands hesitating to reach out and run through your hair while your head rests on his chest, his lip quivering as he hesitates to speak his mind. Astarionâs brain is foggy from all the warmth and fuzziness pooling in his stomach and his heart racing uncontrollably from you simply being here. His mouth begins to talk without him having control over it.
His words may be flirty and sultry but you can tell that they arenât just flattery. He rambles about how incomprehensibly gorgeous you are, how your info dumping and intelligence is unbearably attractive and how he could listen to you all day, how your eyes resemble the starry night sky, your grin that could make him fold over in an instant and so many other things he cannot get out of his damn brain about you.
Damn you for making him utterly weak and stupid for you.
âI cannot stop my damn mouth around you. Itâsâ Stop grinning at me like that! I canât concentrate when you do that, darling.â
Physical touch.
At first, Astarion forced himself to constantly touch you. It felt good for you and for him, sure, but he mostly pushed himself to touch and feel you in order to make you feel seen and loved by him. He did it in order to get protection and support from you against Cazador and whatever other horrors come across your way. But after unfortunately falling head over heels for you, touching you is something he cannot go without.
His hand always lingers on your back for support, your waist to pull you closer and show to everyone with that you are his and he is yours, holding your hand while strolling the streets and roads and almost childishly swinging your arms back and forth like a happy-giddy couple. Letting himself get pulled into your arms after a long day in the privacy of his closed off tent and cuddling closely against you is probably the closest Astarion ever got and will get to pure bliss.
His cheek getting squished by being pressed up against your chest, his hands tightly gripping your waist as if fearing you might disappear on him. There is a soft, giddy grin spreading on his face.
Bonus scenario.
You thought he did it on purpose at firstâ After all, he is a vampire spawn and you can tell that his bloodlust overpowers him every now and then, but Astarion genuinely looks panicked as the flesh of your hand begins to bleed slightly, two holes buried into the skin right below your thumb. You watch as your boyfriend rushed around his tent to grab a cloth and wipe the blood.
âAstarion, Iâm fineââ He shushed you by holding his finger up while facing your back before finally spinning around on his heel and presenting the hand-embroidered handkerchief he had been worming on during the quiet evenings in camp. Immediately and without hesitation, he pressed the delicate cloth against your wound.
His face was etched in guilt and worry. âIâm so sorry darling, I didnât mean the bite to be soâŚâ You noticed how his eyes drifted away from how the blood began to soak the handkerchief. âIt was meant to be harmless, I swear!â
âI know, I know.â Your free hand cupped his cheek and your lover immediately leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as his features softened slightly. You can tell how much it ripped him apart in the inside despite it being such a little injury, you know how Astarion always is careful with his biting when doing it on you, respecting your boundaries and always asking for consent beforehand. He would never, ever hurt you in any way. And yet he just did.
âIt happens, itâs okay. Iâm not seriously hurt.â
Lifting the cloth off your wound yourself and revealed how the blood already began to dry. His eyes drifted back to the puncture wound in your hand. His lip quivered. âIâŚâ
âIâm still sorry. I shouldâve been more careful.â Astarion watched your face, expecting some kind of negative reaction. Fear, anger, anything really. Instead, you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.
A wave of affection hit him the same way the club of an angry orc would, but it was much more pleasant. He huffed and angled your face for him to kiss you properly.
(Mortal)
Gale Dekarios // The Wizard of Waterdeep
Words â 1.1k
Info-dumping and rambling.
If there is a new topic Gale has been exploring and reading about, you will definitely hear all about. Probably more than once, too.
Before you Tara was the victim of his endless info-dumping, him gesturing around and doing his eureka! pose every now and then while proudly explaining how he already inhaled every piece of literature there is about this new topic. Now you are his victim.
Gale feels a little insecure about it though, afraid he might be boring or annoying you. So, youâll have to assure and encourage him and make it known that you do want to know how you can reason and communicate with some mimics to the point of making them non-hostile. He adores to have his head rest on your lap while your hand fiddle with some loose strands of hair, him rambling on and on about something he happened to come across in the library today.
Since you tolerate his rambling so well, heâll of course listen to yours with eagerness. Galeâs eyes twinkle slightly as he watches you talk, noting every movement in your face and hand, how the edges of your eyes crease a little when you explain a particularly fun fact to him. His heart flutters to see you being so passionate about something, sometimes he canât help himself but let that affection out and give you a cheeky little kiss while you are distracted by talking, causing you to be completely thrown off and now confused on where you left on.
Gale also loves debating with you. The topics could range from when does a powerful wizard begin to live off cheese and wine to if eating a tressymâs wings be considered as fried bird, fried cat or fried tressym (although Tara was quite offended by that debate you held). He likes talking about nothing and everything about you and might just seek excuses to hear your voice. Getting the opportunity to info-dump about his interests is a mere bonus.
Gifts and trinkets.
Whenever he stops by the library or market, you have to physically withhold him from wandering off and going after that shiny twinkle he just saw from the edge of his eyes, in his mind already having hundreds of ideas on what it might be and if you would like it.
Gale has a habit of hoarding things in his wizard tower, but after getting his orb and getting rid of most the weave infused artefacts, he now had space for more trinkets: things that remind him of you.
Your wizard begins bringing you something every time he comes back from somewhere. Sometimes itâs a book from the library he thought might interest you, sometimes itâs jewerly Gale thought might fit most your outfits, but every now and then itâs a shiny rock he found in the corner of a street. He thought the colour resembled your eye colour and the way it shone in the sun almost blinded him, just how you blind him with love every time youâre near.
Itâs silly but at least half the shelves are now filled with shiny rocks, books and a newly acquired wooden figure of a goat he found at the market. Gale said your stubbornness and persistence reminded him of one and didnât get why you found it a little offensive to get compared to one.
âWhatever are you talking about? Goats are very graceful creatures and so are you! I find it quite the accurate comparison on my part.â
Physical touch and cuddles.
There is nothing better in the world than melting against your warm body after a good glass of wine and being surrounded by tombs, scrolls and books all day and Tara being curled up by your feet. His hand lazily tracing your waist and sneakily finding their way between your legs. Not for any improper reason, just to warm his hands up.
Speaking of your thighs, Gale is this close to begging on his hands and knees for a chance to have his rest between your plush flesh. The feeling of gently being squished while his fingers busy themselves by drawing intricate patterns across your skin or simply interlock with yours. Your wizard considers cuddling as some way of recharging his energy, both arcane and bodily.
He needs his morning cuddles before starting his day, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck while you brew some coffee or him refusing to let you leave the bed by positioning himself on top of you. He sneaks himself into your daily routine and tries not to interrupt whatever you are doing right while scooting himself right next to you, his chin on your shoulder while Gale watches you do whatever.
Also, thanks to you, this man canât ever sleep without having you in his arms ever again. You spoiled him too much, he complains. Your body perfectly fitting together against his like it was always meant to be. But that also means whenever you get up in the middle of the night for some water, Gale is right behind you, sleepily following your steps.
âI canât sleep without you, mightâve as well follow, right?â
Bonus scenario.
You did insist that your boyfriend shouldâve stayed in bed while you dragged yourself to the kitchen for a glas of water. Itâs not even early morning and the sun was still well below the horizon and yet Gale followed close behind. It kind of reminded you a cat that followed you into the bathroom in the middle of the night for no reason other than making sure you donât get attacked by mice or something.
âMhh. What time is it?â Gale scratched his chin sleepily as he leaned against the counter next to you. You shrugged and sipped your glass of water. He opened his eyes and glanced over to you, his arms slowly wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his oh so warm body.
You melted right into him, a groan escaping your throat as you buried your face in his hot neck, allowing yourself to take a deep breath. His scent was familiar.
Your eyes slowly drooped close and you felt yourself almost let the glass slip out of your hand but before it could, you placed it on the counter behind your very sleepy wizard.
As you did, your hands began to wander and trace the warm muscles of his back. You noticed how they have softened over time. After everything that had happened you and him began to live a more comfortable life without the need to lift a sword, or rather, a wizard staff.
Before you could point the softening muscles, how much you appreciate your life with him, how silly it is to think about what you went through together mere months ago, a snore interrupted your thoughts.
Did Gale fall asleep leaning against the cabin with you in arms? Seriously? And snoring like that as well?
And he is always the one that complained about your snoring.
Enver Gortash // Chosen of Bane
Words â 1k
Gift giving.
He literally cannot help himself for the love of the gods. Enver, as he ordered you to call him, swears he is not actively seeking for gifts to shower you in, they just come to him. Or are being brought to him by his Steel Watch and others.
Whatever had your attention for more than a fraction of a second you can expect to stare back at you in an instant, now presented on your nightstand or bed instead of the boutique you saw it in or the catalogue you flipped through. Somehow he always knows what you fancy without even needing to speak to him.
Enver also tends to send you little handmade trinkets during especially long and stressful periods of him being away. Despite what he likes to think himself, he doesnât always work on papers in his office. When the files pile up and glare at him disapprovingly, Enver turns to the mini broken machinery tucked away in his desk and begins tinkering with it, working and trying new things out until it finally functions again.
Or he makes it look prettier and that it was before and lets it be delivered to you. Little reminder that he always thinks of you. He totally didnât squeeze a miniature scrying eye into at least one of the trinkets to spy on you.
âOh, it is nothing. Mere small tokens of my affection, no need to dwell on them.
Inserting himself into everything you do and annoying you.
Like a toddler, Enver follows you around and tries to insert himself into everything you do to try and stay close to you.
Cooking yourself a snack in the kitchen? Youâll feel his chin on your shoulder as he stared down at what you are cooking. âGive me a piece of that.â
In the bathroom to take a quick shower? He is already behind the curtain and turning the water on, filling the room with steam.
God forbid you are in bed, alone without anyone to cuddle onto? Yeah, you best believe he immediately sneaks up on you and makes sure you wonât be able to physically leave this bed, not until you pry his arms off your body. Enver is like a cat, he doesnât openly ask for affection most of the time but invades your personal space whenever he wants to silently ask for it.
Besides acting a little child when wanting your attention and affections, Enver also enjoys showing you how much he loves you by purposefully annoying you a a little. He pokes your cheek over and over when youâre busy and watches you get more and more upset with his teasing until you finally slap his finger away. How unfairly you are treating himâ Enver has been nothing but good to you!
âIâm simply making my presence known to you since you failed to acknowledge it until now. You shouldnât be annoyed, rather happy to see me, love.â
Physical touch.
You know well that your lover is sleep deprived, dehydrated, touch starved, affection starved and whatever else you can be physically deprived off. You seem to fix all of these problems by simply slipping into his arms and using his soft chest as comfortable pillows and your legs tucked between his warm legs. Enver canât suppress the blissful grin spreading on his face and couldnât fight his eyelids slowly drooping close, his chin resting on your head.
He could remain like this for hours, days, in some form of hibernation. But he canât. His duties are calling.
So, heâll take you with to his office to continue the cuddles. Youâll be comfortably seated on his lap as he writes and flips through papers. The situation isnât even sexually charged as in you are perfectly seated on his lap in a way that could make him moan and thighs shiver, rather you are there so he can take little breaks by hiding his face in your neck and groaning in frustration every now and then.
Sometimes heâll be too tired to cuddle, so Enverâll rind where you are currently resting and just laying down on top of you, letting his weight slightly crush you beneath him. He is a selfish man and needs his daily (hourly, really) head pats, hair strokes and back scratches.
Bonus scenario.
You felt Enverâs stare drill itself into your skull. You were just brushing your teeth and examining yourself in the bathroom mirror and getting ready for bed. You tried to ignore the looming presence behind you as much as you tried to avoid looking directly at him in the mirror.
âAre you ignoring me?â You heard the amusement in his voice. Yes you are trying to ignore him because of how much he has been getting on your nerves today, purposefully interrupting your doings, asking you to meet him in private and pulling you away from duties just for him to ask you to kiss him. A child is what he is.
âMy love.â Enver called out again, now moving to stand beside you. His eyes never left your face. You didnât spare him a single glance.
âDarling.â He started again. âOr do you want me to call you kitten?â
That one made you shoot him a glare. Aha! A reaction. Enver smirked at himself and lifted his hand, his index finger now reaching out to pole your cheek but before he could touch you, you gently pushed his hand away. But not backing down, he reached out again.
âGortash.â You scolded and turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. âYes? That is my name.â Completely unbothered, he mirrored your pose to mock you almost. There was that shit-eating smirk on his face you are all too familiar with and the one you canât help but let it get to you. You couldnât fight your own grin that was fighting itself to appear on your face.
âAha. A reaction. I was looking for that.â He grinned and lifted your chin with a small nudge beneath your chin before leaning in for a quick kiss on your lips.
Raphael // The Devil (cambion)
Words â 1k
Quality time.
Raphaelâs time is valuable and choosing it to spend it with you should make you happy enough.
But alas, merely basking in your presence and getting drunk of your affections sometimes isnât enough, so Raphael takes you out to fancy restaurants in different cities all across FaerĂťn and spoils you with a colourful, expensive cuisine. Afterwards heâd suggest to get some wine and enjoy it somewhere else together, maybe go back to the House of Hope and play some rounds of Lanceboard together.
He would never admit it to you but being adorably domestic with you and sipping some wine while talking about nothing important is one of his favourite things to do, ever.
Besides restaurants and wine, your cambion will ask if youâd be interest in going out to watch theatre plays. How can you possibly deny him when Raphael keeps reciting quotes and scenes, trying to sway you into finally giving in. Itâs kind of endearing watching Raphaelâs eyes light up once you finally agree.
Raphael enjoys spending his time outside of his House of Hope, partly because he knows that you, as a mortal, probably donât want to spend all your time down in Avernus, so heâll prefer to take you out on dates on the surface.
âIf youâll have me, I would love to take you out on a lovely play being held in Baldurâs Gate. I believe you could enjoy it as much as I will.â
Acts of service.
Raphael may spoil you with acts of service but those are not without stringsâ Heâll expect something back in return, things like a kiss on his cheek, a compliment or your time to spend on him.
His âservicesâ consist of him hand-tailoring infernal contracts for people that have mildly annoyed you in the past, people you may not even remember. Raphael will make sure they will work as slaves in his house personally serving you for the rest of eternity.
He maybe is enjoying eliminating and enslaving your ex-lovers, people you mildly dislike, people you despite and whoever else he can get his fingers on a little too much, donât you think?
Also, Raphael tends to be very theatrical when hosting future contractees and souls he might strike a contract with. But with you, he is actually sincerely caring. He pulls out a chair for you, he pours you a beverage before even needing to ask, he remembers every single detail on foods you like and dislike and just the way you like it. Raphael will always serve you like you are royalty.
âSit. Eat. Drink. Let the world and everyone in it kneel for you, my love. You deserve nothing lesser.â
Physical affection.
Raphael enjoys your touch the most. Simple things like holding your hand and prying it off whatever you are holding when they are not available, having his hand rest on your waist during outings and his tail subconsciously wrapping around your ankles when he is not even paying any mind to you. He craves your closeness, no matter if he wants to or not.
If he canât provide with his own body and cuddle you up, heâll send Haarlep to do his bidding.
Haarlep more than willingly curls up in your lap and shields you with their wings as their arms snake around you. They might let their hands wander and get a little touchy with you, but after putting the incubus in their place and giving them a piece of your mind, Harleep will obey and simply serve as a cuddle pillow and replacement for his master. Almost a little too enthusiastically, one could think.
But at the end of the day only Raphael will banish the incubus from your shared bedroom and will affectionately-force you to satiate his need for your touch. He is never the little spoon though, the devil would never give up his position as the big spoon and loose the opportunity to create a make-shift cocoon with his leathery wings trapping you against him.
It was your biggest mistake to not go and use the bathroom beforehand, Raphael will never let you go now, not unless you sprinkle holy water on him or something.
âWhere did youâ No! Put that flask down you harlot! How did you smuggle holy water into my home?!-â
Bonus scenario.
You felt squished. Sandwiched. A little crushed but kind of pleasantly so.
Raphael had his arms wrapped around your your stomach as you snuggly fit into his hold, against his chest. You felt the infernal heat radiating off his body and his tail having its tight hold on your ankle. Does he even know that his tail was clinging itself onto you?
You werenât really paying attention to that though with Haarlep clinging against your front. It was comfortably pressing itself against your torso, its race snuggled against your chest. Their eyes were closed in bliss while their hands gently massaged your thighs. Now, how did you manage to convince Raphael to allow his incubus to snuggle up against you like you are theirs and theirs only?
Then again you could sense how the owner of the House of Hope silently brooding behind you and having his face nuzzled into your shoulder while Haarlep happily purred against your supple skin.
âOh, I have been missing out on this. I didnât think heâd be so lenient with me.â Haarlep was clearly testing the waters on how far he can go before his master strikes him down and throws his body into the Styx. Raphael lifted his head slightly and raised his brow, shooting him a warning glare.
âBoth of you better behave.â You sighed, one hand leaning back to cup Raphaelâs cheek while the other was busy running fingers through Haarlepâs hair. Again, the incubus purred and smirked against your skin.
This is something you could get used to.
đ
Authorâs note. Thank you for reading!
Ngl Iâve also been in the mood for some Cyberpunk again. Also Iâm also trying my very hardest to do a Durge run but I always end up starting another playthrough after the goblin camp đđ Iâm trying to stay strong for the extra voicelines and scenarios and stuff for Gortash but Iâve never been strong enough so far đ also I was this close to including ketheric throm on this list
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.
Tame care of yourselves! Happy late Easter if you celebrate.
Could I request smut headcanons for astarion, gale, halsin, kar'niss, raphael, haarlep, rolan, and wyll being teased by his female s/o that he came in his pants/underwear please?
omg im so sorry this took so long but arcane has a grip on me that is just SO tight. also, i'm sorry but i couldn't think of a way to make this prompt work for kar'niss, thus he won't be present in this sorryyy
â . đđ⧠content warning : smut, reader being a dom if you squint for some of the men in this, teasing, reader being a teasing shit, fem!reader, no use of y/n
â . đđ⧠words : 2,2k (~ 300 words per characters)
( not proofread, english is not my first language â)
â . đđ⧠astarion :Â
After a long day in camp, Astarion was on duty sewing up the few clothes that had been torn during the day. It was a relaxing activity that he didn't see as an inconvenience when it came to the tasks everyone had in the camp.
It was his turn on guard duty, his elven assets obviously allowing him to be awake for longer. And, as luck would have it, you were sharing this shift.
Sitting by the campfire for better light, he was concentrating on drawing and sticking his needle continuously.
"What a tear it was," you confirmed, coming to sit just behind him and lacing your hands around his waist.
He chuckled softly, the sensation of your warmth against him quite different from that of the flames facing him. "Should my mind wonder, I think you get your clothes torn on purpose." He said, his face turning away from his task to meet your eyes, a flash of mischief crossing them.
"Really?" You smiled, your eyes lowering gradually to his lips as one of your hands moved slowly down his stomach to brush against his crotch. "I think you'd prefer me with no clothes at all."
His eyes were half-closed, a sigh of relief expelled from his lungs as your fingers slipped past the thickness of his trousers to press against him.
"Do you like it when you see my clothes torn apart?" you whispered against the back of his neck as you placed a kiss on it, your hot breath sending shivers down the vampire's spine.
His head fell back against your shoulder, moans rising from his throat as the feel of your breasts, barely covered by your shirt, pressed against his back. The pleasure was building fast, the feel of your lips against his skin, your divine fingers pumping his length to perfection, and your words pushing him towards ecstasy.
"Would you want to tear them yourself?" you questioned as your wrist increased the pace, your teeth grazing his skin for a moment before you bit down gently.
It almost took his breath away, the knot of pleasure bursting as you gently kissed his skin in encouragement.
You pulled your hand out of his trousers, watching the spectacle in the firelight with a satisfied smile. His eyes returned to yours, and you could be sure that your shirt was going to be ripped to shreds in the next few seconds.
â . đđ⧠gale :Â
Gale pinched the bridge of his nose, trying as best he could to integrate the complex workings of a new spell he wanted to learn.
"You look tense," you remarked as you sat down beside him, placing your hand on his thigh in an attempt of reassuring him.
"Somehow these engravings are giving me quite a hard time," he replied, giving you a frustrated little smile as his eyes returned to the paper.
"Maybe..." Your hand slid to his crotch, his eyes drifting slowly from the parchment to yours. "You need to relax a bit to learn it better?"
His nose brushed yours gently, his lips grazing yours and inhaling heavily as your hands moved past the waistband of his trousers and onto his warm skin.
His lips sought yours relentlessly, but you always found a way to turn away and smile against his cheek when he twitched at your meticulous and delicious movements.
"Why don't you try and read it for me?" you purred.
He tried to return to his parchment, but your hand against him simply made him press his forehead against the spell lines as you brought him to climax.
With a gasp, he regained his composure and you kissed his jaw.
"Can you focus better on it now?" you suggested slyly.
How could he concentrate on anything after what you'd just put him through? He chuckled, almost throwing his parchment away as he grabbed your chin.
"My dear, I think it's time for me to practice some different spells on you."
â . đđ⧠halsin :Â
halsin was, as usual when he was staying at camp and the others had gone elsewhere for one reason or another, sitting by his tent carving a new wooden duck that he couldn't wait to add to his collection
You rested your head on his thigh, watching him as he gave you a gentle look, refocusing on his task.
What could be disturbing his serenity, his concentration and his control? When even was the last time you'd seen halsin flustered?
You placed your hand tentatively on his second thigh, letting your thumb caress his bulging muscle beneath the fabric of his trousers. He glanced at you for a moment, continuing his task more gently already, his attention gradually drifting to you as your finger ventured to his crotch, caressing it.
He inhaled harshly, his hands tightening on the knife and the piece of wood as his breath caught, his eyes now completely on you.
"My heart?" he asked, his breath catching as your hand cupped his cock.
"Just keep going," you said simply, not taking your eyes off him as your hand continued its little game.
You felt him harden under the caress of your fingers as, in your semi-innocence, he continued his task with some difficulty.
On several occasions, he smiled, a low laugh of air rising from his chest as your fingers touched a particularly sensitive spot or you stopped your movements to his surprise, saying, "If you don't continue carving, I will stop."
However, as time progressed, he forgot all about his sculpture, your fingers a delight on him as you picked up the pace until he relaxed completely with a few spasms under your hands, ruining his trousers.
Breathing hard, he watched you, cheek still resting on his thigh as you indicated as if nothing had happened "the next sculpture you make should be of me."
â . đđ⧠raphael :Â
It had been hours already since Raphael had been sitting at his desk, and boredom mixed with envy had led you to him.
It didn't take you long to settle into his lap, embracing him and resting your head on his shoulder.
"Do you miss me that much, my pearl?" he asked, a dark chuckle echoing in his chest.
"You've been doing this paperwork for hours already," you mumbled, your eyes facing the corner of his jaw.
"Be a bit more patient," he assured you as he continued reading yet another sheet. "It won't take me long."
But you had been patient enough already. Still, you sighed, simply resting your cheek on his shoulder.
Maybe there was a way for you to get him out of this boring situation with something more enticing.
You rolled your hips, a low hum coming from his throat. You repeated the movement, feeling his breath heavier already.
"You're up to something," he murmured, pressing his cheek to yours as his lips brushed your ear.
"Am I?" you questioned without waiting for an answer, your hips rolling against his as you felt him harden beneath you.
"You're being a distraction." His breath became heavier as his hands left the papers to rest on your hips.
"I'm your favourite distraction." you whispered in his ear, smiling playfully as you nibbled his lobe.
His hips reacted of their own accord, grinding against you as you kept up an ever-accelerating rhythm. His breath quickened as he whispered your name, your lips kissing and biting his neck until, with a groan, he came.
He rested his forehead on your shoulder, smiling against your skin as you straightened, leaving him with a stain in his trousers and looking surprised.
"Now you know the fun that you're missing." you say, moving away from the desk before he catches up with you, placing you on your shoulder and carrying you to the nearest bed.
â . đđ⧠haarlep :Â
catching haarlep off guard in terms of teasing is no easy feat, so you'd offered him a challenge.
"you want to make me cum without touching me, little dove?" he sneered, the idea probably seeming ridiculous and insane to him, but above all: impossible.
But you weren't going to be deterred, advancing towards him in the most beautiful lingerie you owned - his favourite. his eyes, burning with desire, roamed over your body as though they were starving.
"you truly think this is impossible for me to achieve this?" you asked, coming to sit right on top of him without your thighs touching his hips or any part of your skin coming into contact with him.
"you're making me reconsider my own words," Haarlep remarked, his eyes at the same level as your breasts.
you lowered yourself towards him, your hand barely brushing his already hard length as your lips parted near his ears, whispering words that would shock any paladin.
of their own accord, his hips began to move, finding friction against the fabric of his black underwear as your hand continued to move just above him, the distance driving him mad.
The friction intensified, his movements becoming more erratic and repetitive as your words lifted him beyond the clouds of hell.
"Come for me, Haarlep," you whispered as his breath hitched. "Come for me."
He came as if on command, his hips jerking against nothing as you laughed close to his ear before kissing him, pulling back to admire the sight of his half-closed eyelids.
He smiled, his canine teeth glistening in the light as he suddenly grabbed you and pulled you under him onto the bed, "I think it's my turn to achieve the impossible."
â . đđ⧠rolan :Â
Rolan, eternally busy in the library, was sincerely starting to make you wait.Â
You sat next to him, waiting tirelessly as he turned another page. There was no fun in sight for any of you if he continued like that for long.
You rested your head on your hand, watching him for a moment as an idea popped into your head.
"Read for me," you said, as he turned to you in surprise.Â
"You want me to read this to you?" he repeated, pointing to a book that seemed immeasurably boring.
"Mhm," you simply hummed, shrugging your shoulders as your hand came to rest on his thigh and you moved closer to him, pretending to be interested.
He cleared his throat, the simple sensation of your hand on his thigh making him all a-twit as he began his technical reading.
Gradually, though, your hand moved closer to his crotch, caressing his thigh with your thumb as you felt his voice tremble at times and his jaw tense.
When you placed your hand down on him, however, he couldn't help but let out a moan, turning to you.
"What are you-" he began, but you cut him off.
"Just keep reading," you said simply, a flash of slyness still in your eyes.
He breathed in, understanding your little game as he returned to his reading with some difficulty and you resumed your slow, precise movements.
Sometimes you felt his hips twitch, or enjoyed his sentences punctuated by sighs and moans as he stopped reading, unable to concentrate as you urged him to continue unless you'd stop.
"I'm..." his breath quickened, your hands doing the same as he couldn't even put two coherent words together under your touch.
"Mhm?" you hummed, your movements as precise and fast as ever.
"Fuck," he swore as he clamped his hand over his mouth and his hips bucked against your hand, the warm sensation of his release pressing against your palm.
You watched the result of your work, Rolan huffing and puffing and his head thrown back, covering the blush darkening his cheeks.
"You're never going to get me out of this library alive," he sighed, hiding his eyes as you laughed softly.
â . đđ⧠wyll :Â
He was spending such a tremendous time making sure his sword was clean and efficient that you wondered if you'd end up envying rapiers and other sabres.
You came up behind him and wrapped your hands around his waist.
"You've sharpened it enough," you breathed, resting your chin on his shoulder as your own reflection watched you in his blade.
He raised it in front of him, straight into the sunlight. "What's a blade of frontier without a proper sword?"
He laid the blade on his knee again, running his file over the metal with precision, much to your frustration. He could have put that determination into something else, like you for example.
You sighed, your hands wandering mischievously to his groin. "Maybe the blade himself needs to loosen up a bit..."
A dull moan spread through his chest, vibrating against your own as you cupped him through his pants.
You massaged him gently, caressing him as his concentration on his sword weakened and he hardened.
"Do you prefer your sword to me?" you asked as you reached past the edge of his trousers and ran your hand down his shorts, a hiss escaping his lips as your hand came in contact with his skin.
His hips bucked messily against your palm, his breath getting heavier and heavier.
You pressed your mouth to his ear, whispering "Can your sword make you come like I do?"
Without further ado, he came against your hand with a long moan of pleasure, his head falling on your shoulder as he breathed softly, turning his head to look at you.
But you stood up, leaving him like that.
"Who will you choose tonight?" you said playfully, "your sword, or me?"
