#rent free and relentless

[soracities]

Kahlil Gibran, Sand and Foam // Roland Barthes, A Lover's Discourse

[karofsky]

Werewolf Feud | 1x03

[mysweetcheesemygoodtimeboy]

[megaawkwardhuman]

*in the voice of one of those old ads about mesothelioma*

if you or a loved one have an adverse reaction to the words "that's his boss" you might be entitled to financial compensation

[dont-offend-the-bees]

You're in his DM's. I'm in his mind every time he has sex because he was tricked by a mischievous djinn. We are not the same.

[blackthorn-faerie]

The sillies!!

[kinstein-art]

What We Do in the Shadows Season 3 Episode 8 “The Wellness Center” you live in my head rent-free

[iamtimwright]

WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS !!

Hi chat srry I haven't posted in a while I've been having majorrrr art block... 😭

This took me like a month to finish cos no motivation but I finally forced myself to finish it and I'm so proud of the finished product :33 I hope you guys like it too <333

Probably will continue to not post much as I still have little motivation for drawing :( love you guys 🫶

[sallyrhubarb]

3.08

[lettuce-gremlin]

Carolina Crown's 2016 "Relentless" vs Troopers 2022 "VorAcious" FIGHT

[starplanes]

A (5 star) review of Bury Your Gays, by @drchucktingle!

I read this book in one sitting. I did not plan to read this book in one sitting, but I could not put it down, accepting that my lunch break was now an extended reading break. Bury Your Gays was just that good.

It starts simple. Screenwriter Misha has been told by his exec that the season finale of his show must out, then kill the two leads. He needs to bury his gays because the board has determined it's where the money is. Misha says no. Then starts getting stalked by his (definitely fictional, right?) characters from other shows. Either Misha developed some incredible supernatural powers in that meeting, or something more sinister is at work…

Bury Your Gays illustrates why queer people should be allowed to tell the stories they want to tell, instead of being made to use queerbating, tragic tropes, or fake relentless optimism in the name of corporate Pride. It's a story about the queer struggle to find oneself in a world that makes it so, so hard. There's a lot of love for the queer community poured into this book, and oh does it shines. I especially adored the ace rep - and the concept of ace rep as a plot point. I shall not explain further. However, I am more scared than ever of the corporatization of Pride.

Bury Your Gays also criticizes capitalism's monetization of tragedy and exploitation of workers. It explores what happens when ethics are ignored in the name of an ever-growing profit margin, to the point where the bottom line becomes a near-sentient thing. It leans into the horrors of AI and data-mining by combining the two and going all the way with it. Chuck Tingle has acknowledged all my fears of black box algorithms and also made them ten times worse. Truly a feat! I will be sleeping with my router off!

It's a masterpiece of horror, both visceral and psychological. Since the main character is a horror writer, the story is very genre aware. There's a lot of fun to be had in the tale of "writer being followed by the monsters he wrote," and certainly no small amount of terror. It gets gory here and there, with plenty of suspense in between. Hints are laid out for the reader, enough where I was occasionally able to predict what was coming just a page or two before it landed. My jaw dropped multiple times! The writing is descriptive enough to pull you right in (and gross you out!), and it's paced near-perfectly. There's all these little moments sprinkled in that elevate the whole story, from fun references of other work to subtle clues you'll only catch on a reread.

This book will be living in my head rent-free from now on. It's about so many things and yet has interwoven them all perfectly. Fans of classic horror movies will love this story. Those of us fed up with AI generated trash will love it. Anyone who joined a WGA picket line will love it. Asexuals fed up with lack of representation will love it. People who watched multiple seasons of Supernatural will love it. Is that you? Go pick up Bury Your Gays. Be scared, be sad, be angry. But also validated, loved, and joyful.

TLDR: Read this book when it comes out on July 9!

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

May I request hc's of the Obey Me Characters reacting to a Female! Motorcyclist Mc wearing a sexy catsuit showing of her curves!😳

Sexy Catsuit Motorcyclist Reader | Yandere Obey Me

What’s wrong with having a little style while you ride? And since big and floofy costumes are a hassle and a hazard; tightness is the way to go. Who said you had to stop your usual rides since you came to the devil dom? Certainly not your admirers:

Satan

If he doesn’t outright demand you wear it all the time

He’s constantly making it so you do

“Oh? You want help with your assignment? I’d love to but my mood is just deplorable, I’ll need something to cheer me up….something catlike…do you understand what I’m saying, (Y/n)? I want you to wear the dang suit.”

Demands you ride on your motorcycle all the time and that he ride with you

In between classes.

Put that suit on!

To the mall.

Put it on!

He’s relentless 

At some point, he’s just going to get a matching one 

That or a Polaroid so he can add it to his collection

He’s almost so obsessed he forgets others are watching you 

But he’s not that daft

He’ll make sure they all learn precisely what are

And that's his 

Simeon

“Wow, I’m a big fan of how that looks on you!”

And he is 

He’ll tell you once

He’ll tell you twice

He’ll whisper it in your ear during meets

He’ll shout it again when he’s riding behind you

Smiling to himself as he hugs your waist eliminating an extra space between your warm bodies

The image of you wearing that plays rent-free in his mind

And please don’t deny him 

He’ll give you the saddest face if you refuse him

So don’t refuse him 

Give him an in-depth look at you in your lovely suit

Or better yet let him examine it after all this kind of material doesn’t exist much in the celestial realm

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Since it is the month of monster fucking, I shall grace you with an idea that's been living in my head rent-free for the past couple of days. Imagine if you will, Sub AFAB Diluc with a Hydro Eidolon Reader(gn). Let's assume that Reader is a unusually powerful Eidolon that can shift into whatever form they like by their own choice (human or otherwise), and that they have the necessary intelligence to pass as a human. So, imagine having a blindfolded Diluc straddle your lap and using your control of Hydro to slowly tease his holes open, while kissing him breathless. Imagine edging him for hours as you increase the number of tentacles in his cunt and ass for one, to two, to three. Fucking him until he's a overstimulated mess as you coo praises in his ear, telling him what a good boy he is, how well he's taking you. After finally having your fill you run a warm bath for the both of you, and cuddle up in bed to sleep.

I'm listening. I'm imagining 👀

Trans guys + tentacles truly are a wonderful combo...so is a scenario like this followed by aftercare and cuddles ❤️

-

All of Diluc holes are occupied; the two holes between his legs are stuffed with writhing tentacles, stretching him open while delicious moans beckon for you to push him a little more, see how much more your darling could take before his brain goes blank and his pussy clenches from yet another orgasm

Meanwhile Diluc's mouth is victim to your relentless kisses, maybe you have one hand on his hip to steady his trembling form and the other hand tangled in the back of his hair? A grip tight enough to keep his face pressed close while you, quite literally, take his breath away. Whispering so many praises in between each kiss

And after you've relaxed in that nice bath, you'll hold each other close under the sheets. The moonbeams seeping in between the curtains being the only light to illuminate Diluc's content expression as he breathes an “I love you”, and you return the sentiment punctuated with another kiss to his cheek or forehead 🥺

[soracities]

rent free and relentless (jamaal may, "macrophobia: fear of waiting")

[cheollipop]

congrats on 2k!!!! we love to see it 🌟

for the sleepover event hard/soft hours, all i’ll say is that soft dom sugar daddy (no daddy kink) seungcheol and jeonghan live in my mind rent free

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

what a lovely thought! ^^ *gripping the edge of my desk*.... no fr though, the idea of seungcheol wanting his pretty baby to model the gift he'd bought her for him,,, and jeonghan making sure to tease the both of them despite being hella turned on himself,,, ngh (had to bring out some pictures for this one grr). I ended up making cheol a lot whinier than I intended to, but sjkrbsbnlrk so yeah. also, I need to stop making drabbles fic-sized. no wonder it's taking me ages to get through these asks :"" happy reading~

pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader x yoon jeonghan

w.c.: 1.7k

tags: smut, older!jeongcheol, fingering (f), dry humping, lingerie kink, creampie kink, body worship (kind of?), idk but cheol is WHIPPED, and whiny, jeonghan's a menace (canon), nicknames/pet names

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

Seungcheol dragged his finger over the sheer, lace cups, tracing over the slope of your breasts and up your decolletage, using the silky strap as his guide. You leaned into his touch, then back when you strayed too far from the warmth of the chest behind you. Jeonghan exhaled a soft breath onto the side of your neck, pressing his lips to your racing pulse point while Seungcheol’s hands continued exploring your exposed skin.

“Fuck, baby,” the older man’s eyes wandered up and down your body, stepping back to get a better view of the garter belt hugging your hips, the matching stockings digging into the plush of your thighs. “I’ll buy you anything you like if you keep modelling them for us like this. Will our good girl do that for us?”

You nodded enthusiastically, a breathy moan leaving your parted lips when Jeonghan tugged you back against him, but your focus quickly shifted back to the man in front of you, his eyes taking in the perked-up nipples pushing into the inelastic fabric. “Anything for you, I’ll be so good…”

“You always are, aren’t you, my darling? Always so good for us,” Seungcheol took a step closer to you again to trap you between the two firm bodies. He was never good at keeping his distance from you. “Can my pretty baby give me a twirl? Show me just how good my gift looks on her?”

The body heat was nearly dizzying, and the fingers that were previously teasing around your slit were now deep within you, pumping the slick that had been leaking out back into your needy cunt. You whined when Seungcheol restated his question, even stepping back to offer you the space to fulfil his request. But Jeonghan didn’t relent, smirking against the skin he’d been busy painting with bright splotches of purple and red, all while his fingers curled into your g-spot.

“Cheol, c-can’t,” you managed, your voice rising in pitch to pair with the loud squelch of your pussy, sending a wave of arousal straight down to his core.

And once again, Seungcheol failed to stay away. Holding your face with both hands, he pushed himself close enough to see the forming wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, close enough to feel his hardening cock pressing into your hip. Trapped within the confines of his luxury dress pants, he rutted the prominent bulge against the thin lace, locking his eyes onto yours while you melted into Jeonghan’s touch, fingers relentless as he pounded them into your tight heat.

“Let me have her. Fuck, please, I need to fuck her right now,” Seungcheol was firm, but the syllables elongated into a desperate whine which fed the younger’s ego. “Jeonghan-”

“Not until she comes,” he peered at Seungcheol over your shoulder, the glimmer in his eyes enough to elicit a protesting huff from the older man’s pouty lips. Pushing the lace at your crotch farther to the side, Jeonghan’s fingers sunk fully inside you, emerging back to shallowly thrust into your swollen gland. He leaned closer to your ear, hot air blowing over the shell while he whispered, “You know how fast Cheol can come when he’s like this. You might need to hurry if you want him to fuck you full.”

The drag of a zipper caught your attention, Seungcheol’s cock now pressing into your skin with one less layer separating you. Angling your head downwards, you eyed the darkened spot where his cockhead would be, mouth salivating at the memory of the tangy flavour on your tongue. One hand slid off your face to grope at your tits, pushing one into the other before releasing it to watch it bounce, his free fingers gripping your jaw to bring your gaze back to his face. A pretty pink painted his round cheeks, stray strands falling from the gelled-back fringe to paste onto his damp forehead, and his eyes—lidded with pleasure and lust—losing their domineering guise to make way for true want.

“My good girl can do that, right? Come for Cheol? Make a mess on Hannie’s fingers for him?” The gravelly tone made you shudder, and your hands slid up his abdomen to grab onto his blazer’s lapel.

You nodded frantically, walls clenching around Jeonghan’s fingers and bringing out an amused chuckle from his lips. “Want you to fuck me after, please. Please, ‘wanna be so full of you,” you whispered, loud enough for both men to hear.

With a throaty growl, Seungcheol’s palm landed on your barely-covered ass, grabbing the reddening flesh to push you further into his body. “Fucking hurry, Jeonghannie.”

The corner of Jeonghan’s lips curled at his impatience, seemingly needier than you were. Leaning his head against yours, the rapid pace he’d been keeping up slowing into long, deep thrusts into your sopping cunt. “Oh? Is Cheollie that desperate to get his dick wet?”

Seungcheol’s breath quickened, rutting his cock into your skin while he stared down the younger man.

“Hannie, please, ‘wanna come,” you muttered, but when you twisted your head to gauge his expression, you recognized the playfulness in the small quirk of his eyebrow, his gaze fixed on the other man’s.

He wanted to hear him say it, and Seungcheol knew that. On any other day, he would’ve fought back, remaining silent to bore the man out of his own game. But today? With the expensive lace he’d splurged on hugging your curves, your thighs rubbing against each other while Jeonghan’s skilled fingers purposefully missed your favourite spot. He couldn’t help himself, his cock twitching in need, begging to be engulfed within your heat.

“Our baby’s been so good for us, hasn’t she?” Jeonghan’s lips pressed a fleeting kiss to the side of your neck, remaining there while his eyes met Seungcheol’s again, stretching into a coy smile while he spoke, “What about you? How good will you be?”

Seungcheol’s gaze lowered—perhaps in timidness, or shame—and he mumbled under his breath, snapping his focus back up to the other man when he clicked his tongue as a warning. “I’ll be good,” he repeated, audibly this time. “So good. Please, just make her come,” he breathed out, back to rolling his hips to seek some reprieve.

“Was that so hard?”

Seungcheol ignored Jeonghan’s teasing, fixating on the haziness clouding your eyes, glistening teeth peeking out between your parted lips, soft exhales blowing over his skin and the muscles of your abdomen contracting under his palm as Jeonghan returned to his previous rhythm, fucking his fingers into you with purpose. He built you back up to your high, your nerves on fire as he speedily guided you towards the edge, free arm wrapping around your waist so his hand could dip into the front of your panties.

“Fuck, s-so close,” your fingers gripped the expensive material of Seungcheol’s tie, breathing in the exhales leaving his spit-soaked mouth before he closed the gap between your lips.

Tongue running over the roof of your mouth, grazing your front teeth, he pulled back slightly when the oxygen in his lungs ran out, the brimming arousal sending waves of burning heat throughout his body and leaving him breathless. You breathed in the same air, so close your lips brushed against each other while Jeonghan fingered you to completion, collecting the slick oozing out of your stretched hole to draw circles over your clit, and you could feel Seungcheol’s hard length throbbing against you as it painted a streak of precum under your bellybutton.

Both men held onto your waist when your orgasm finally rushed through you, your thighs shaking violently while Jeonghan continued to fuck into your clenching cunt, swearing under his breath as hot streams of your arousal trickled down his fingers to his bent wrist. “There we go, sweetheart,” he pressed a kiss to your temple, easing his merciless pace when your hips jerked away from his touch. “Our pretty girl, so beautiful when she comes,” he slipped his fingers out of your fluttering pussy, tapping them over your clit once, twice, watching you startle and whimper before pulling away.

You craned your neck to plant a soft kiss onto his lips, and he placed another on the corner of your mouth before Seungcheol’s hand pulled your jaw away from him. You faced the front once again, met with burning irises staring right back at you, and you were reminded of the heavy member still grinding against your lower belly.

“Cheollie’s been good, hasn’t he, darling?”

You nodded, slowly processing Jeonghan’s words as you recovered from your high.

“I’ve been so good,” Seungcheol echoed, strong arms snaking around your waist to pull you away from the man behind you. He pressed his forehead to yours, the wrinkles by his eyes prominent as the discomfort of going untouched for so long caught up with him. “Fuck, baby. Can’t wait to have you, ‘need you full of my cum,” he rambled, pressing kisses to your browbone and down to your eyelids, moving to the side until he reached your temple, staring past your shoulder at the man behind you.

He left his hands to wander your body, squeezing your ass and spreading you open, slamming his palm down onto the soft skin in which he plans to bury himself into, all while his eyes remained on Jeonghan, taking in the grey hair he didn’t bother with concealing, plump lips parted while his tongue glided over them, Seungcheol’s gaze following the motion. Noting the distinct tenting in his branded pants, Seungcheol’s fingers tickled up your spine to toy with your bra strap, pulling it away from your heated skin and letting go, taking in how Jeonghan’s eyes leave his to watch the goosebumps rising on your body at his touch, how you jerk at the sudden pain, but don’t ask for it to stop. Seungcheol’s lips grazed the shell of your ear, a shiver shaking your body as his honeyed tone caressed the cartilage,

“Gonna make a mess out of you, leave your pretty pussy dripping with Cheol’s cum,” his eyes flicked up to meet Jeonghan’s, “we both know just how much Hannie loves cleaning you up.”

[arcielee]

Command me to be well

Summary: Lord Osferth has been injured and she takes care of him. Paring: Lord Osferth x Female!Reader (third person) Word Count: 1845 Warnings: Teasing baby monk, mentions of battles, injuries, oral (m receiving), 9th century remedies for bruises? Author's Note: This was inspired by @hightowhxre story of Lord Osferth x Maid!Reader, which is so brilliant and has been living rent free in my brain as you can see from the 1800+ words. Beta read by the wonderful @sylasthegrim surprise this was that request you sent me an eternity ago 💜 Dividers by @saradika 💜

The day hung heavy on his shoulders adding to the weight of the mud heavily caked onto his boots, along with the perspiration that caused his layers to cling to his lithe frame, the night’s cool air chilling him. Osferth entered his sleeping estate but noticed the pool of amber from the backroom where the Dane woman remained, her steadfast devotion to his humble household despite him expressing that her choices were solely to be her own. 

He thought back to the last time he had spoken this outloud, how her startling eyes focused on him, the flutter of her long lashes that framed them. “Then my choice is to serve you, my lord,” she had replied with her honeyed tone.  

Her words caused a lump in his throat and Osferth swallowed hard. 

At first he rued the day that Uhtred had marched her into his modest, but comfortable, manor bestowed by his dear sister in Rumcofa. His title was behest after the death of King Alfred–their father–by a scroll with his signature, his final command for his eldest son’s legitimacy. When they returned to Mercia, Æthelflæd glowed with pride. 

“You will be an ealdorman of Mercia,” she smiled.

Sihtric and Finan teased his title, but it was Uhtred who insisted he take in the Dane woman, how hands were needed to run the homestead. His large hand rested on her shoulder and pushed her towards him. “This is your lord,” Uhtred said with a smile, with a smirk. Osferth felt mortified. “You will serve him well.”

For a time it was them alone and he learned that she showed diligence, but not obedience; she possessed a sharp wit and sense that she always knew what was best for Osferth, more so than he himself. He also learned that she was a sanctioned healer, blessed by the gods–or so she claimed, and he indulged her natural curiosities, taking the time to teach her to read and to write. 

She seemed to agree to this tutoring with the sole purpose to tease and to torment Osferth, always pressing too close for propriety. At the end of each lesson, her every fiber lingered after, from the lavender on her washed skin, a sinful scent that hung on his clothes, to the soft touch of her finger pads on the back of his hand, a soothing and circular motion to catch his attention. If he dared to look, she would always lean closer until he could see the candlelight dancing in her eyes. 

Osferth would then create the much needed space between them, if anything so that he may begin to breathe again. 

Though he felt her haunting tactility, he suppressed his desire when he saw her shifted attention and felt a sense of pride with how her fingers now grasped for every scroll, tome, and book within her reach. Her days were now spent gathering herbs and in the evening, she would painstakingly transcribe her remedies known to parchment. 

He could only assume this was what she was doing at this moment. Osferth winced as he began to remove his boots, and then he heard her soft steps; she peered out from her room, her familiar silhouette against the amber light, and he could hear her concern. “Are you injured, my lord?”

At first, she picked up the teasing from the men he considered his brothers–Finan and Sihtric, relentless with his newfound lordship–but right now there was a genuineness to her tone. 

“Please,” Osferth grimaced from her formality, from his subtle movements to unlace the ties. “I am simply Osferth.” 

He saw the shadow of her brow furrowed and she then called for the water to be heated for their returned lord; Osferth burned from her words. “It is not necessary–” he started to say and, as always, she was quick to cut him off.

“It is needed, Osferth,” and her eyes that usually danced seemed to darken as she moved towards him. She kneeled in front of him and helped him remove the other boot before her palm moved to slip into his own hand, walking him back towards his room. 

She turned to scrutinize his disheveled state; it was another long day patrolling the riverbanks and a small skirmish won on its shores. Osferth was not injured, severely, but he was beaten and it showed with the severity that lined his face. His weary hands went to remove the scabbard around his slender waist, a sharp exhale from the pain he felt explode in his chest. It was alleviated with her touch, a warmth that pooled from her palm that rested on his hip, taking over to remove his sword, his dagger, and returning to unlatch his embossed cuirass worn over. 

She was careful to remove his upper layers which revealed the beginning bloom of purples, blues, and greens in the center, bold against his pale skin. “You are bruised to the very bone,” she assessed. Osferth hissed through clenched teeth when her fingers touched and she pulled away. “I’m sorry, my lord–”

“Please,” he rasped. “You know that when it is us alone…the title is not needed.” 

He would have sworn he saw the wash of rose across her face, but she was quick to leave the room. Osferth looked to grab for the wooden chair when she returned, a pestle gripped in one hand to grind within the mortar held in her other; he could smell the crushed herbs mixed with honey. 

“This will help with the bruising,” she explained, peering up at him.

Osferth hummed in response, and again with the touch of her hand against his bare chest; it was the same slow, soothing circular motion as she spread the poultice over where his blood rose dark on his skin. “It must rest for a moment,” she continued to explain. Her hand remained and he was unmoving, elated with the feeling of her skin against his own.

Once again, she was closer that good priority would allow, close enough to see the pink hues that dusted her cheeks and how she brightened when he spoke her name. “Thank you,” and he grimaced again with his exhale. Her fingers twitched, her touch still anchored on his chest before they began to trail lower. “You do not need to stay…”

“But what if I choose too?” 

Osferth looked up, his surprise apparent with her bold words; the shades darkened across her cheeks, her lips wet from her tongue, and he had the intrusive thought, she is beautiful. 

“This is not necessary–” but his words stilled on his tongue as her soft fingers wiped themselves clean on the fabric on his pant leg, the tug of fabric jolting the length of his spine. Osferth shifted his weight as her silk touch dipped into his waistband and followed back towards his center where his cock began to press against his breeches.

She licked her lips again and he now saw how lust swallowed the color of her eyes. “This is why I am here, my lord,” her voice was low, sultry and smooth like velvet as she repeated, “I choose to serve.” 

And her fingers were quick to unlace and pull at his slacks until they puddled at his feet, her touch still gentle to push until he sat back in the chair. She followed, slowly sinking between his splayed legs, her hands resting on his knees to keep her balance and her eyes were up, never leaving his. 

Osferth burned under her gaze, her lustful scrutiny before she blinked, breaking the spell, and her attention refocusing on his length; her eyes traveled the ridges and veins, the shift of color to the red shine of his cockhead. He whimpered at her touch, the slow curl of her fingers around the base, and she gave a tug, watching the wetness that trickled.

She was a vision, her thighs plush as she rested on her heels between, one hand rested on his bare thigh and the other around his cock. The vision she made caught his breath, and when she leaned forward, the air staled in his lungs, watching rapt as her lips pressed against his flushed head. Her tongue cleaned his spill before she began to take him into her mouth and he exhaled sharp feeling her wet muscle pressing to the underside, slavering over his girth, relaxing her throat to press until the patch of hair above tickled her nose; she hollowed her cheeks as she fell back, the glisten of her saliva, and she took a deep breath through her nose before she returned again. 

Osferth moaned unabashed, a white hold of his hands on the edge of his seat, his eyes rolled to the back and his head lolled with. He felt her palm tighten around what could not fully fit in her mouth, and he watched the bob of her head following his length; he grit his teeth with another guttural groan that reverberated from the back of his throat.

His hands moved to rest on her shoulders, a firm hold to ground himself, and she quickened her pace at his touch; the glide of her swollen lips in tandem with her tongue, the lewd noises that spilled with the spit at the corners of her mouth.  

And he saw the stars spark in front of his eyes, lost in the overwhelming heat of her mouth; his thighs began to tremble, the pulse and swell of his cock with her ministrations. She seemed to notice and she hummed, the vibration rippling through his veins and towards the base of his spine, a push over the edge he precariously balanced with vibrant flashes of colors. 

“God!” He gasped. Gods? He was no longer certain as he followed blindly after his pleasure, the buck of his hips in his seat to sate the suction of her mouth that seemed determined to milk the last drop of his release, until he cried out from the oversaturation of pleasure. 

His chest heaved, a dulled ache, and he moaned loudly as she slowly pulled away, her tongue trailing the underside of his still half-hard cock. She paused at the end, a glassy eyed exchanged, and then suckled. Osferth could not help but whine pitifully, and he felt the curl of her lips; he watched as she let him drop from her mouth, her fingers wiping her corners and her tongue licking them clean.

Osferth tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry.  

“I will see if your bath is ready, my lord,” and she pushed to stand. 

Osferth watched her go, the rumpled fabric of her gown now settling over her curves, the sensual sway of her hips. He could not stop the words that spilled from his mouth. “Would you care to join me?” 

She paused and looked back at him, with her hooded eyes and heady stare, the candlelight glimmering in the black that swallowed the color of her irises. “Whatever you desire,” and her sinful mouth curled upwards. “My lord.”

Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @aemondx @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @theobjectofyourire

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