#but here's to all the exquisite pain that comes before then

[darkbluekies]

In the dungeon

yandere!king oc x fem!reader

Summary: after disrespecting him, you've found yourself in his dungeon. Edmund comes to visit you because he has heard that you haven't eaten in three days

Warnings: self starvation, punishment, toxic relationship,

Word count: 1.1k

He doesn't like it, but what choice does he have? If people found out that he doesn't punish his own wife, what would they think of him? That he's not a well respected leader because he can't even punish his own wife? No, he can't have that. He has to do it. But by doing it, he also feels pain, so it's a punishment for both of you. That's how he explained it.

You had disrespected him, belittled him and his masculinity. And now you're here. Easier said than done. Saying the words to him was easier than doing the time for them.

Your head hangs low as footsteps echo down the spiral stone stairs. You don't look up to see who it is, don't care who it is. Another guard to switch swift.

“Oh, my love …”

You look up. Edmund is standing on the other side of the metallic bars, wearing his clean, colorful clothes made out of the finest satin. He places a plate with a silver cloche on the bench beside him. You pull yourself up from the floor slowly, back sore from resting against the stone wall for eternity and stomach empty. Edmund's ice blue eyes follow your every step. It's not often that they contain any type of emotion, but seeing you like this brings out a deep worry that seems to make his eyes glow.

You drag yourself over to the door, which is nothing more than metallic bars. You hold onto one of the cold metal rods. Edmund places his hand over yours.

“The guards have told me that you haven't eaten in three days”, he says softly, as if you could break if he raised his voice even a decibel louder. “You can't do that, Y/N. You can't worry me like this.”

As if he would have eaten that stale bread and drink that moldy water, you think.

“Can I come up now?” you whisper. “I want to get out of here”, you cry weakly. “Edmund, please …”

Edmund shakes his head carefully.

“No, not yet”, he answers with a heavy sigh. “It's going to be okay, darling”, he reassures you softly, kissing the hand he's holding. “Soon, you'll be back with me, okay? Believe me, I want nothing more than to let you back upstairs and have you in my arms, but they would think I was incompetent in my role.”

He wipes one of your tears apologetically.

“Do you care more about your power than you do me?” you whisper.

He looks taken aback, unable to know what to answer.

“Don't be like that”, he says. “You know I love you more than anything else.”

But not enough, apparently, you think and sniffle.

He looks behind you, around the cell.

“I brought some food from the kitchen”, he says. “I want to see you eat it before I leave.”

He gestures for the guard to unlock the door as he bends down to pick up the plate. You back away from the door, finding your safe spot on the floor by the opposite wall. Edmund walks over, checking the floor before hesitantly sitting down.

“Do you have to sit on the dirty floor?” he mumbles dislikingly.

“I like it”, you reply.

“Alright, alright.”

Despite grimacing and dusting of his satin clothes, he makes himself comfortable on the hard, dirty floor and opens the cloche. The smell of boiled potatoes and marinated meat meets your nose, and the sight is even more exquisite. He takes out a silver fork from his pocket, stabs one of the potatoes and holds it to your lips. You open your mouth, letting him feed you. It tastes better than you remember it to. It has only been a week since you got locked down in the dungeon, but without anything to do, without necessities and comfort, the hours creep by. For all you could care, a month could have gone by. The only form of company you've had have been the rats crawling around on the floor, just big enough to squeeze through the metal bars. They bite.

“Tasty?” Edmund asks.

You nod. Anything that the kitchen prepares is delicious — or at least a thousand times better than the rock hard bread and dusty water.

“Good”, the young king says, pleased, feeding you another fork full of meat. “It makes me feel better to see you eat.”

Eating the food he has brought for you reminds you of how badly you want to vet out of here … and how much your comfort relies on Edmund.

Edmund wipes away a sauce smudge on the corner of your lips and sticks it between his lips to lick it off. You doubt he would do that to anyone else. Ever. He has certain liberties with you which he has with no one else. He can hug you, touch you, smile at you, joke with you. You give him life in a way no one can.

“You should see how restless my hours without you are”, he sighs and rolls his eyes. “I'm a walking bomb without you. I almost feel bad for my secretary.”

“Then let me back up …”, you whisper, a last attempt to try to plead with him. “Please.”

“I can't. Not yet. I've already given you special treatment and advantages no one else has gotten. If I let you back upstairs before an appropriate time my authority will be questioned.”

“I'm sorry, Edmund.”

Your voice is barely audible. His hand stops dead in its track on its way to your mouth. A drop of sauce falls down on the floor. You can see that it hit him right in his heart, shattering it.

“Oh, I know”, he reassures you and feeds you the piece of meat. “I know, darling. I believe you.”

You chew slowly, swallow slowly. The food seems to get stuck in your throat.

“Good girl”, Edmund praises. “You can hold out a little while longer, can't you? Just a few more days?”

You nod in defeat. What other choice do you have now that your pleading didn't work?

Edmund stands up. You follow him panicked, quickly reaching out and grabbing his hand.

“No!” you shriek. “Dont leave me. I don't want to be alone!”

“It's getting late”, Edmund answers. “I thought that I would let you get some rest.”

“No … not alone … please. Please stay. Just a little while longer.”

He thinks for a second. “Okay.”

You breathe out in relief. He sits down with his back against the wall, letting you fall asleep against him, wrapped in his warm, strong arms. Leaving him alone with his thoughts — his conflicting, torturing thoughts.

When you wake up the following morning by the sun shining through the little window pane you're alone, lying on the floor, covered by a colorful cape made out of the finest satin.

[kykyonthemoon]

Breakfast

You knew he was dangerous. You knew that you should stay away. But when you found Sylus in the kitchen, making breakfast, he reminded you of what happened between the two of you the night before and you comprehended you had made a bargain with the devil, again.

── .✦ Sylus x Female Reader|MC

── .✦ Tags: R16, MDNI, suggestive themes, biting & marking, drunken kissing & flirting, hangover, pet name - kitten.

── .✦ Word count: 2k3

── .✦ A/N: This story is based on a dream I had after watching the new patch stream on July 6.

This fic also won the Merit Prize from Love and Deepspace Version 2.0 Opposing Visions | Fan Art Contest. I really appreciate all your support on my X <3

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

You awoke in the midst of a haze. You had a vague impression that the blanket was both warm and soft, with a subtle aroma that you had only of late learnt to recognize. You tossed and turned, sliding back and forth on the enormous bed, unable to see the edge. When you rolled your entire body to the opposite side of the bed, you saw that the vacant area was still quite warm.

As if woken, you rose up, brushing aside the matted hair that had fallen in front of your face. Your body felt painful and exhausted. Your head continued whirling. You realized you were wearing a black shirt that was too large for your size. The aroma on the garment was comparable to the position next to you on the bed. You grabbed your head, trying to recall why you were here in the first place.

Sylus' exquisite chamber emerged before your eyes in the gentle dawn light. You blinked. That's right! You had attended an important party, with Sylus' help, the night before. Rather, it was another in a long line of similar deals between you and him, with an unexpected cost. You got what you wanted, but the amount of liquor you drank there left you disoriented. The party ended with you lying in Sylus' arms, seeing him smirk as he looked down at you and said:

“Such a kitten who never knows when to stop.”

Then everything went dark. You could only barely feel Sylus' strong arms wrapping around your body, as well as the warm blanket that surrounded you before you fell asleep.

But as for why you slept in Sylus' room, wearing his shirt…

You tumbled out of bed and walked into the bathroom to wash your face. Cold water helped you become awake. You then glanced at yourself in the mirror. Your hair, which had been pulled up high with several decorations, was entirely removed and fell down. Aside from the shirt you wore, you had immense and tiny red markings all over your body, from your lips and chin, down to your neck and chest. You used extra water to wash your face in an attempt to remove all of those marks, but it simply made them appear more vibrant on your skin.

Your fingertips traced each mark. This one brought to mind an image of Sylus burying his face in your neck. The mark on your ear reminded you of how softly he bit you. There were also marks on your wrists from the force he used to pin you down on the bed.

You exhaled. Memories were slowly returning to you, and they concerned you. You were not terrified of Sylus; rather, you were afraid of the situation you had created the night before. You cautiously opened the door, as if you were afraid that someone was waiting outside to catch you in this kind of situation.

You intended to return to your room, where Sylus had allowed you to remain temporarily while you were here. But after only a few steps, the scent from the kitchen caused your feet to shift direction.

The aroma of breakfast being served made your tummy grumble. But when you heard the faint humming and saw his enormous back obstructing your view of the food, you turned and walked away.

"Kitten is awake now. Wouldn't you come in for breakfast?"

You halted. You did not want to see him immediately after what occurred the night before, but perhaps he had been waiting for you to get up since dawn.

When you returned to the kitchen, Sylus faced you. He wore a crimson and black silk nightshirt. It was not tight, revealing his bare chest, which you were unable to keep your gaze away from since there were several red marks going from his chest deep down to his stomach, even some on his neck. There were other ones that appeared to be scratches.

Knowing where your eyes were focused on, Sylus smirked. Seeing that, your face grew crimson and felt hot, as if you were being cooked on the stove. You instantly looked away, attempting to act normal.

“Good morning… Did you… sleep well?…”

Sylus pulled the bacon off the heat source. Based on the ingredients on the counter, you assumed he was cooking Eggs Benedict. He answered you sarcastically:

“I did not sleep well at all. Since there was a kitten who loved to scratch me so much."

“What kitten?” You claimed to be ignorant in the face of evidence that showed you had slept in Sylus' bed the night before, and were responsible for the markings on his body.

How did things end up like that? You opposed Sylus. And he was just brilliant at driving you insane. He was dangerous. He stood on the other side of the battle. Even if working together with him was simply a temporary solution for both of your concerns, rolling around in bed together and leaving markings on the other's skin was utterly beyond your expectations. You softly bit your lower lip, condemning yourself for allowing things to spiral out of control. While Sylus only grinned casually:

“And yet I thought that the girl who had the courage to pin me down on the bed and leave her marks on my body would have the courage to admit what she did?”

At the moment, you did not know how to face this with as little disruption as possible. Of course, Sylus would not let you escape so quickly. You wanted to go home and keep your distance from him.

“I… am not sure I did what I did on purpose.” You responded. The current circumstance was not good at all, for you. You attempted to remain cool and added: "Besides, don't you have the ability to heal yourself?"

Sylus stared down at his body, then back at you, the corner of his mouth curled up again as if he had just done something sinister.

“Of course I have to leave evidence, in case you deny it like you are doing now.”

You were briefly perplexed and failed to say anything else. Then you suddenly realized you were also his victim. You stepped up to him at the kitchen counter and pointed to your neck.

“What about these? They are also evidence against you!”

Sylus laughed. His warm fingers on your skin sent a shiver down your spine. It was a feeling that, although not inherently awful, was exceedingly treacherous. Treacherous as you began to like it.

"A mark for a mark." Sylus teased you. His fingers traveled to the back of your neck, and the index finger rested on your chin, softly separating your lips and pushing you to gaze up at him. "If you believe it is a crime, what would you do? Lock me up, Miss Gorgeous Hunter? After you took advantage of me to get into that party, got very drunk, and vomited all over the dress I purposely chose for you? After I brought you back here, and you continued to take advantage of my body in that manner?”

You hastily pushed Sylus' hand away. “I was drunk, you were too… It was simply an accident… Can we make it clear?”

Sylus snorted coldly and turned away. The poached eggs required his attention. You did not recall or were acting like that. The previous night, you were the only one who had been drinking.

After the party, Sylus took you home. He had meant to let you relax, but as soon as you went by his private room, you freely opened the door and walked in.

“This is not your room, kitten.”

But you did not listen. You removed your high heels and flung them at Sylus. Then you began wandering back and forth in his room, as if you were searching for his secrets.

Sylus clicked his tongue and stood with his arms folded, waiting to see what you would do. He had to catch you after seeing you stumble around and collide with things in the room. He sat you on the sofa, unlocked the wardrobe, chose a clean shirt of his and threw it on the seat next to you.

“Get changed. Don't dirty my room anymore."

You grinned and took up his shirt to examine it for a moment. Then you tossed it back to him. 

"Help me..."

Sylus rolled his eyes at you before focusing on the clothing in his hand. You rose up, stumbled closer to him, and turned away, pointing at the back zipper of the garment. 

"Help me get changed." You repeated.

Sylus slightly raised the corners of his lips. He slowly pulled the zipper down. Since your body was constantly moving back and forth, his fingertips came into contact with your bare back. You chuckled. While looking at you from behind, he quietly placed the part of his finger that just touched you on his lips and chuckled.

“Be still.”

After helping you get out of your dirty dress, Sylus put his shirt on you, turned you around and helped button it. He did not dispute that while you were displaying your stunning features to him, his gaze lingered on your body for longer than was appropriate. You were simply wearing a set of undergarments beneath his shirt. His hands paused on the final two buttons, debating whether or not to assist in concealing your lovely cleavage behind that shirt.

You grabbed Sylus' wrists and gazed up at him. His throat became dry. You said while drowsy:

“Bed… I want your bed…”

You gestured in that way. His bed was obviously much larger and softer than the one in your room. Sylus drew a breath and bent down to lift you up in his arms. He brought you to the bed and placed you down. 

"You have asked for so much today. Aren't you concerned you won't be able to pay the price?"

“I… can pay!” You boldly declared. As soon as Sylus rose up to depart, you grabbed his arm and pushed him down onto the bed. 

So you started kissing him.

It could not be denied that there were times, many times, during the party that night, you longed to drag him to a corner and kiss his lips until he suffocated. Or you. Either one of you.

How that night ended was still something you could not remember. When you stood in the kitchen with Sylus the next morning with rosy cheeks and body covered in kiss marks left by him, feelings of regret and guilt began to engulf you. You started it first, and Sylus gladly granted your wishes. How long had you been intending to get closer to him? You could not believe why, in a moment of rashness, you could make such a severe mistake. It was not like you were not aware of who the person you pinned down on the bed was or how dangerous he was.

“I… You…” You hesitated. “I really— Ouch!”

Before you could continue speaking, you felt Sylus lift you up and set you on the kitchen counter. His hands were positioned on both sides of your thighs, and his body was forced against you, making it hard for you to escape.

"Stop trying to deny it." His crimson eyes glowed as if he were sulking. Your throat dried up and your mouth became silent when he got this close. Your gaze remained fixated on Sylus' lips, unwilling to leave. He said:

“Let me tell you what happened last night. You kissed me. You scratched me. Then you fell into a deep slumber. As for me, I remained awake since my bed was occupied and I was held and weighed down all night long."

You breathed a sigh of relief, seeming to be at ease and disappointed. Between Sylus and you, nothing had escaped your control or the approval of your rational mind. You might perceive what happened the night before as a mistake that could be fixed. Yet all of a sudden, Sylus' grasp on your hip tightened, and his other hand curled around the back of your head, forcing you to lean back slightly. He gazed at you with a mysterious smile on his lips, making you feel as if you had just fallen into a tangle from which you could not escape.

“Are you going to remain silent and ignore your responsibilities? I still have the evidence on me. You cannot deny that you want me. Yes? No?"

When you regained consciousness, you understood exactly what should and should not be done. Even that was unable to prevent you from thinking about how you fell into Sylus' arms and how he would never turn you down. Given the kiss marks and scratches you left on his body that were visible, how badly must you have yearned for him that night? How about the time before that? And for the time being? Sylus' charm had you wrapped around his fingers. This feeling might be fleeting or it could last forever. It terrified you and left you unsteady. But if Sylus was down in that deep void, you were willing to plunge in, as long as he was there to catch you. 

Sylus learnt he had won the instant he noticed your yearning eyes. He grinned as separated your lips again, asking:

“My precious lady, what price do you wish to pay this time?”

You assumed that in this trade, you would not be at a disadvantage. You deliberately leant towards Sylus, gently biting his lips before pulling away to await his reaction.

Satisfied with your answer, Sylus smirked. His fingers caressed your bottom lip before pushing forward to devour it in the way he had craved since he had ever found you.

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝑰𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 (𝑭. 𝑻𝒊𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒂𝒓)

I’m still in love with him and he envelopes my every thought. I won’t apologize for it. Here’s my heart, it’s yours.

Contains: flirting, fleeting touches, denial of feelings, budding relationship, first meetings, mutual longing, sweet & fluffy, some sexual innuendos (this is written by me after all 0///<)

Basically a little background to how foresight reader and Fiyero met

⋆⁺₊❅.° *

⋆°. ⁺₊ ❅ . .

You were sad.

No- scratch that; you were more than just-run-of the-mill sad.

You are melancholy. Seemingly full of an almost listless longing.

That’s the first thing that came to Fiyero’s mind after finally seeing you, having caught his eye without those dark glasses of yours for the first time. That, and the fact that your face was quite fair in beauty. You had the type of beauty was best accompanied by snowfall, chilling and soft but also cozy and alluring. Large doe eyes and a constant frown on the loveliest heart-shaped he’s ever seen.

Why did you always seem so sad? Maybe he was overstepping, maybe you weren’t sad. He’d never spoken to you before thanks to your elusive nature so he probably just didn’t know you well enough to read your emotions. You were probably fine just naturally pouty, kitten-out-in-the-rain-faced.

Call it purely unbiased curiosity; his reason for going out of his way to speak to you.

Sticking with his usual method of approach, “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Disappointingly enough, I don’t think we’ve ever truly met. I’m Fiyero Tigelaar o-“, you cut him off as you finish for him.

“Of Winkie Country. Charmed.” Well, that was unexpected. The unenthusiastic sarcasm dripping from that last word giving him whiplash.

“My apologies but have we met?” The way you spoke to him as though you’d crossed paths before had him doubting himself. Even if you had, he knows for certain he’d remember you. The sound of your lilting voice brings him out of his budding internal crisis.

“Not in any future you’d remember.” Hmm. Cryptic too. He waits for you to say more but you don’t. Interesting. Most are always eager to engage conversation with him but you clearly are a girl of few words.

“I see. Are you always this…riveting?” You tilt your head to the side, ignoring his strong gaze, humming as you pretend to think.

“Depends on if you’re always so persistent.”

“Ooh la la. So, always then?” Cute. He was cute. Very.

“Mhmm. Wonderful observation by the way. You’re quite bright aren’t you?” You ask with a condescending nod of your head, false awe in your raised eyebrows.

Oh. He liked this game.

“Why yes..and I’m surprised you noticed my brightness with those dark glasses you always wear.” And for the first time in the conversation, you were speechless. Prompting him to continue,

“Why do you always wear those anyway?” You sputter for a few seconds as you try to come up with an answer that’s a more shallow version of the truth.

“B-because I need them..”

“Need them for what?

“My face, obviously.” The snark makes him smile, finding your prissiness absolutely endearing.

“But there’s nothing wrong with your face, darling.”

You will your cheeks not to warm and darken because of the way such a petname sounded from the lips of such an attractive man but it seems to not work very well from the way Fiyero smirks at you.

“How would you know what’s wrong with my face?”

“Because I’m looking right at it”, and unbeknownst to you, the two of you had moved quite close during your game of cat and mouse. Your close proximity dawns on you when you feel his warm hand brush your hair away from your face. Peering at you even closer, “and it’s exquisite.”

He-! Oz, you hated attractive people.

You lower your head, finding his direct attention overwhelming but surprisingly, allowing his closeness.

“…not my face exactly- my eyes.”

Oh your eyes, yeah. He’d noticed them.

“Besides their beauty, what about them?” Pompous, flirtatious, irritating pain in your a-

“Will you stop flirting with me?! I have foresight damnit! The glasses help dull my visions, so they’re less intense.” Oh. No wonder you looked so sad. Foresight. It was extremely rare, gracing only few in hundreds of thousands of generations. That was a heavy gift too, seeing all kinds of futures whether you could do something about them or not. Well now that he had somewhat a reason for your melancholy, he wanted now to see your smile.

“Even lovelier. It suites you. Light but full of depth.” You’re stunned into silence again because he doesn’t run for the hills at you practically being a bad omen and that he thought your gift was lovely, well suited to you.

Bashfully, you release a small hum before speaking.

“Thank you-“

“So have you seen me in your future then? I’m sure you’re in mine.”

Your eyes widen in shock before creasing as a smile breaks over your face and you suddenly start laughing. Laughing as though you hadn’t just killed him with the tinkling warm sound coming from your pretty smile. You eventually quiet to giggles but those only added to the longing Fiyero felt for you as he too felt himself smiling.

You couldn’t help it, he was cute so you should have expected the cheesy future pickup line but for some reason; be it his easygoing charming demeanor or those big eyes; it caught you off guard.

“Wow, I’ve definitely never heard that one. You’re actually a good time Fiyero”.

Oz the way his named sounded from your lips. Clearing his throat to regain some of his composure and feign as though he wasn’t already completely taken by you; he smiled, “Glad to show you one, I do aim to please.” Enjoying the way your smile widened, shaking your head with a light smack to his chest when he shot you a wink.

As he leaned more into your space, you made no room to move and neither did he. You were melancholy, yes…but you were plenty of something else too. He liked it more by the minute. Liked you.

“You know….you’re quite the treat yourself.” You scoff at that, rolling your eyes.

“I thought I told you to quit flirting with me.”

“Force of habit.”

“Oh? It’s a new condition of yours?”

“Not at all, but it’s harder to maintain with you.”

Oh. You change the subject back before you fluster too much.

“I can’t be a treat. Believe it or not, I’m not the sweetest around.” Fiyero quirks a brow at you.

“No?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was talking to you like that on purpose. All low and sweet. Ignoring the seemingly permanent warmth to your face, you awkwardly pat his broad shoulders as you move to put some space between you two before you end up putting a name to the type of growing tension you two have.

“Well, I’m off to go study and practice. Making your acquaintance was surprisingly…fun. Nice, I mean.” You’re being completely genuine and Fiyero doesn’t even try to stop the tender grin from coming. Cheeks dimpling as he looks down at you fondly.

“The pleasure is all mine”, he says warmly. Catching you off guard again as he takes your hand, bending down as he lifts it to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. Glancing up into your eyes before returning your hand to your side.

You don’t move for a second until he tilts his head with a grin, clearing his throat.

“Oh right! I need to- yes”, and then you’re hurrying off, heart pounding in your chest.

Fiyero watches you go, eager to see you again only it’s not the same as that longing he had earlier…

because he’s sure you feel the same.

[obsessedwhyyes]

Chasing Lightning

Summary: You've spent all day teasing, tempting, taunting - you've really tested Astarion's patience this time. But pushing his boundaries is your favourite past time. Now, here you are, over his knee, about to receive the punishment you longed for, all according to your devious plan. Not that you'd ever admit it, of course.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2003 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader Content: Shameless smut, bratty reader, Dom!Astarion, spanking, light BDSM elements, rough sex, PiV.

Gif by silverformymonsters on Tumblr!

A/N: This, uh... Yeah, no, this is just shameless smut. I am so sorry. Behold, my spanking fic, written in a moment of madness.

You lay over his knee, eager, anticipating - a willing sacrifice on the altar of his desires. Each trail of his fingertips across the bare skin of your backside is a promise of what is to come.

You deserve this, you think to yourself. All your teasing, all your temptations. The way you pressed yourself against him when no one was looking, your face a pretty picture of faux innocence; the way you swayed your hips as you sauntered ahead of him, glancing back to meet his eyes, knowing they would be heavy with that predatorial hunger which ignites the flames of arousal deep in your belly. All part of your plan, which he is more than willing to oblige.

You hear Astarion’s voice, dark and dripping with honey.

“I propose a game, darling. A test of your intuition, shall we say?” You hear the wicked smile in his voice and it sends shivers of sweet anticipation coursing through your body. “I'll think of a number, one through ten, and you'll have to guess it based on how hard I spank you. Guess wrong, and I'll spank you again - the same strength - until you guess correctly. Understand?”

“Yes,” you breathe, wilfully yielding to him . There’s an intoxicating power in surrender. Your submission is a choice, freely given, and that makes it all the more potent.

In yielding, you become more. More alive, more aware, more you than you've ever been. The world narrows to the point of contact where his hand meets your skin. You are the ocean, and Astarion the moon, pulling you into new shapes with the inexorable force of the tide.

“Very good,” he purrs. His thumb rubs the gentlest of circles on your wrists as he binds them behind you with his spare hand. “Of course, if it becomes too much, just say the word. I can be merciful… on occasion.”

The game begins, a dance of unseen touches and breathless anticipations. Astarion’s hand hovers above you, its presence like the charge before a lightning strike.

“Let’s start with a simple one, shall we?”

His touch against your bare arse is a whisper at first, cool fingertips ghosting across your skin. More caress than slap. You shiver, every nerve alight with anticipation.

“One,” you murmur, more exhale than voice.

Astarion’s chuckle vibrates through you, a low rumble that you feel more than hear as you bury your face into the fabric of his shirt. “Oh, my dear. We’re barely getting started.”

The next strike lands with purpose - a sharp, precise sensation that blooms across your skin. It’s not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but something exquisitely in between that draws a gasp from your lips.

“Four?” you venture.

“Warm, but not quite.”

He strikes - the same strength once more, as promised.

“Three!” you gasp, revelation and pleasure mingling in your voice.

“Good girl,” Astarion praises and gods, how those words affect you. They sink into your skin, sweeter than honey, headier than wine. You crave his approval like air, each word of praise stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

The dance continues, each strike a new verse in this poem written on your skin.

Smack.

Five is a starburst of sensation. You feel this once, twice, three times until you finally guess correctly.

Smack.

Seven lands with the force of a thunderclap, reverberating through your body and leaving you trembling in its wake.

Smack.

Nine leaves you gasping, teetering on the knife-edge between pleasure and pain. The sting melts into a deep, throbbing warmth that pulses in time with your racing heart.

With each strike, each caress, the heat builds, a delicious tension coiling tighter in your core.

Four. Two. Six. Six again. Eight.

You find yourself arching slightly into his touch, eager for more, your body's reactions beyond your control.

Then, finally, comes ten.

It cracks across your flesh like lightning splitting the night sky, a white-hot streak of sensation that sears itself into your very soul. For a moment, the world whites out, every nerve ending alight with electric sensation. You cry out as the sensations overwhelm you, the number torn from your lips. The pain is exquisite, pushing you to the very limits of your endurance.

In the aftermath, you float in a sea of endorphins, your body humming with the echoes of Astarion's touch. Each point of contact throbs in time with your racing heart, a map of exquisite sensation etched onto your inflamed skin.

His cool hand soothes over the heated skin. The contrast sends fresh shivers through you, and you moan gently in response, despite yourself. Your skin is hypersensitive, your mind a mess of exhilaration and desire, eager for more, more, more.

Through the haze of lust, Astarion's voice chimes clear. “My, my. Such enthusiasm,” he purrs. “Tell me, darling, did you spend all day dreaming of this? Because I certainly did… in excruciating detail.”

You turn on his lap to look up into his eyes, suppressing a smile. “Who, me? I would never!”

Astarion's eyebrow arches, smirking at your obvious lie. “Is that so? So the way you rubbed yourself against me all morning like a worg in heat was just a coincidence, was it?”

You can't help but giggle at his accusation, which only seems to fuel his amusement.

“Do you have any idea how long you left me aching today?”

“I'm sorry,” you pout.

“Sorry who?”

“I’m sorry, Astarion.”

You don't mean it. And he knows it.

You could be good - a sweet, obedient little thing. But to be bad - to challenge him, to tease him, to test his patience until he finally brings you to heel - why, that's just so much more fun.

“That’s better,” he coos, his voice and his praise caressing you like silk along your skin as he gazes back at you, expression equal parts warmth and something much darker - hungrier - beneath. “Cheeky little pup."

He pauses, and the air becomes heavy with anticipation.

“But I'm not done with you yet.”

He rises and shifts you in a blur of motion, bending you over the edge of the bed, leaving your face buried in the soft sheets. Suddenly, you're exposed to him, your arousal on full display, and you feel the air against your hypersensitive flesh. Yet, in this moment, there is no place you would rather be than at his mercy. You are eager, dripping with expectation.

In the midst of your lustful haze, you hear the rustling of clothes - the familiar sound of his trousers unlaced. It sends your imagination soaring. Your core aches with what is to come.

But Astarion, the cruel man he is, doesn't enter you. Not yet.

Instead, you feel the head of his cock slide maddeningly, agonisingly slowly up the slit of you. You feel him become slick with your arousal as he slides down, and back up your slit once more, just barely skimming your clit, which throbs desperately with need. Such delicate, teasing touches - enough to drive you to madness.

“Do you want it?” He purrs.

“Mmhm,” you mumble pathetically into the fabric.

“Tell me, love.”

“I want–”

He inserts himself before you finish, colliding with you with the force of planets, stealing the breath from your lungs. The union is electric, a completion so intense that it borders on painful.

His desperation is evident, at odds with the image of restraint he was attempting to conjure as he ruts into you with wild abandon. His hands are everywhere at once, desperate and searching. Your own fingers claw at the fabric of the bedsheets, mindlessly, drunk on the sensation of him.

Astarion’s hands soon settle on your hips, pulling you to him as you collide again, again, again. You aid him, pushing yourself against his hips with each thrust, needing to be closer, always closer. You move together in a frenzy, chasing that elusive peak with single-minded determination. The world beyond ceases to exist; there is only this moment, this need, this all-consuming desire.

Breaths come in ragged gasps and are punctuated by moans and whispered pleas. “More,” you beg; “please,” you exclaim, though you're not sure how he could possibly get any closer, any deeper within you.

You feel his hand slide beneath you, and you lift your hips to greet him. Your throbbing clit welcomes his expert touch as he begins to unravel you as easily as he picks locks. He rubs circles around the bud, gently, in stark contrast to his wild rutting - indicative of the tiniest threads of self-restraint which remain within him, spared only to bring you to your peak. But gods, in the heat of the moment, you are especially sensitive, and his touch quickly brings forth rippling waves of sensation which threaten to overwhelm you. Your body twitches of its own accord and you know your climax fast approaches.

Your own voice surprises you, high and desperate. Soft whimpers escape your lips, growing in intensity and frequency as the tension builds.

Behind you, Astarion's sounds are a primal counterpoint to your own. His usual smooth tones are roughened by desire, a gravelly undertone that sends shivers down your spine. Low growls rumble from his chest - they speak of a hunger barely contained.

As you both near the edge, your voices mingle and intertwine. The sounds blur together - gasps and moans, growls and whimpers. The volume rises, unchecked and unashamed. You care not who hears you now.

It is you who first reaches the point of no return. A cry escapes your lips, raw and primal. Your body quakes, and pleasure crashes over you, a torrent of sensation that drenches every nerve ending. You're swept away in the deluge, currents of bliss pulling you under, spinning you in their depths.

His release soon follows and, although you don't see him, you feel the intensity in the air, in his increasingly erratic pounding, in his breaths. A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating through your bodies like rolling thunder. His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he releases into you, claiming you as part of his tempest.

He collapses against your back. His weight is solid and grounding like the calm after the storm. He pants slightly, aftershocks rippling through you both like distant thunder.

Slowly, the world comes back into focus.

Astarion's weight shifts behind you as his arm drapes lazily over your wrist. You feel his cool lips brush against your ear, and he nips it gently.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he muses, “I would say you enjoy being punished.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound still slightly breathless. “If that’s what I get for misbehaving, I might have to do it more often.”

"Careful what you wish for, darling," he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. "I have a whole arsenal of 'punishments' at my disposal. This was merely a taste."

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Why not both?” he replies, his tone rich with suggestion. “I do so enjoy keeping you on your toes.”

As he rises to his feet and helps you to yours, he kisses you, his gentleness a stark contrast from your earlier activities. Where there was an inferno, now there is now the warming comfort of the hearth. Where there was urgency, now there is patience. Eventually, you find yourselves settled once more, cocooned in the soft comfort of the bed. The lingering scent of your encounter mingles with the fresh smell of clean linens, a heady reminder of the night's activities.

“Alright?” Astarion’s voice is soft.

You nod, words unnecessary in this moment.

As you nestle closer to him, a contented sigh escapes your lips. Being bad certainly has its thrills. But these moments, wrapped in Astarion’s arms - these are treasures in their own right. The mischievous spark in you knows you'll seek out more opportunities to 'misbehave', but for now, you revel in this gentle aftermath, every bit as intoxicating as the storm that preceded it.

No Pressure Tags: @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @sparrowbard @chonkercatto

Masterlist can be found here.

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | John, You're Buying A House

AO3

Upon waking you knew something in your life had shifted. Sitting upright in bed and feeling a gush of fluid pool in your underwear answered the question of what had changed. Waddling awkwardly out of your room a dubious feeling settles low in your gut.

The bathroom door is shut.

At least two male voices rumble from further down the hall. Fuck. One of the guys had to be in the bathroom. Knocking you pray it will open.

“Busy,” comes Simon’s gruff reply.

Double fuck. Simon would be in there for a while. Digging your fingers into your body you decide how to deal with the growing problem that is now sticking your loose pajama bottoms to your legs. Johnny’s laugh and the sound of a kitchen chair scraping against the floor fling you into a decision. Reaching up your fingers find the long thin key to release the simple twist lock.

Simon doesn’t have time to yell at you before you are through the door and locking it behind you.

“The hell do you need?” He snaps at you from the toilet.

“I need you to cover up and let me get in the shower without asking questions,” you stare at the grain of the door as you strain your ears to listen for how he might be feeling about this.

A beat of silence longer than you can comfortably handle passes. You open your mouth to plead with him when Simon’s voice reaches you.

“Why are you bleeding?”

He doesn’t sound alarmed, only vaguely concerned.

“Wouldn’t you know it this is a pretty regular process for me?” The sarcastic reply slips out.

Fabric rustling behind you alerts you that he isn’t going to kick you out.

“Come on then, I can’t start the shower from here, but I can take your clothes when I am done and start a load of wash for you.”

Turning and seeing compassion on Simon’s face has your lip starting to quiver. He holds out a hand to you. Crossing the long bathroom, you take it gratefully.

“I’m really sorry,” you wipe a hand under your nose, “that I had to bust into your bathroom time.”

Simon lifts and drops one shoulder.

“Not like Johnny wouldn’t do the same if I didn’t lock the door.”

The truth of the statement startles a laugh out of you.

Squeezing your hand in his Simon uses the other to jerk the shower curtain open for you.

“Milady,” the seriousness in his tone causes you to burst into giggles.

Stepping in, you pull the curtain shut and quickly strip. Folding the bloody portions of your pants into themselves you set all of your clothes in neat bundle on the floor just beyond the shower. Starting up the water you focus on getting the water in the pipes to a self-indulgent level of heat. When you are clean and refreshed, and you can somewhat manage the day ahead, you turn off the flow. The silence in the room beyond the flimsy barrier taunts you.

Holding the curtain tight in one hand you shift it enough to find the room empty of Simon. Instead, a candle is burning on the counter and a stack of your softest folded clothes sits on top of the toilet seat. Drying off you get your period situation dealt with as best you can for the first day of your flow and get dressed.

The underwear and bra are absolutely yours but the sweats in the pile look suspiciously like Kyle’s and the shirt could be either Johns. You accept the offering of them claiming you, but also the subtle hints of them and their laundry soap soothed you.

Cramping didn’t hit you until you stood at the sink, trying to wash up your breakfast dishes. The dual stabbing at the base of your spine came as a surprise. Your finger curled over the edge of the sink as your vertebrae did their best to pull away from one another. Breathing got hard; short gasping sucks of air were all you could manage.

John materialized behind you. His hands roam down your back, he knows he hit the right spot when your hips jerk forward and bang against the cabinet. You let out a sharp whine.

“Touch or no?”

“Push,” you gasp out.

When his thumbs dig into your pain point you are granted the most exquisite type of relief. When it eventually subsides, and the pressure of John’s fingers begins to hurt again you shift to dislodge him. John pulls you into a hug before dropping a kiss on your forehead and sending you off to do something else.

“Go and rest, I will take care of these,” his beard tickles against your face.

Not one to miss out on not doing dishes, you squeeze John tight and leave the kitchen. The stirrings of your normal period cramps start. Spotting Johnny reclining against the arm of the couch you decide. Johnny is sketching away in his notebook. You really should look at getting him a real art book when the café starts turning a bit more profit and can cover all the back pay you are owed. Tugging lightly on one of his crossed ankles you get Johnny’s attention.

“Can I lay on you?” You try and look pitiful.

He would have said yes either way but it made you feel better about asking for help.

“Course,” he places his book face down and scoots down until his feet rest against the other armrest. “Come here.”

Collapsing on top of the hot-running Scot you settle down. Using him as a personal hot water bottle is the best idea you had all day. Johnny runs a hand down your back a few times before resting his sketchbook on your back as he continues to work. You wake to the feeling of your period overcoming your precautions.

Leaping off of a snoring Johnny you rush to the single bathroom in the flat and find it locked. Again.

“God dammit! John!” Your shout wakes Johnny up as he rushes up from the couch and John from your room where he must have been resting if the pillow demarcations on his cheek are any clue.

“What? What’s wrong?” John questions you.

“John, you’re buying a house.” Before he can ask stupid questions such as why, you point to the bathroom. “This is the second time I have to change my outfit because there is only one bathroom, and my period will wait for no man.”

The door opens, every pair of eyes in the hallways snapping to a now concerned Kyle who pulls out one earbud and tucks his phone into his pocket.

“What did I miss?”

Shoving past him into the bathroom you reply as you slam the door closed.

“John will explain.”

@the-loneyest 😘 @lilynotdilly

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[mayaree-darling]

mastermind

from aree: The Harbinger Trailer has consumed me yall are getting a brainrot. (I made this when the trailer first came out and have never posted it so here it is).

tw for yandere content

Yandere!Harbingers with a "darling" who is the right hand of the Tsaritsa herself. Not a Harbinger, but nonetheless important because they're the main strategist of the Fatui. I can just imagine the pain for the Harbingers because although darling is within arms reach, they're not allowed to make a move lest they anger their ruler.

Childe who first sees you akin to a younger sibling amongst the Fatui - you're no underling, on par with a Harbinger in importance if not more, protected almost as much as the Archon Herself - it would be hard not to be protective of you. And yet as you fix his wounds after another fight he started, telling him off in place of Her Majesty, giving him tips on how he could've fought better in whispers in between, his growing need for your attention consumes him. When he kisses your cheek (as thanks, he says) in front of the other Harbingers he's already looking forward to you treating the injuries they're sure to beat into him.

Scaramouche who grins when the Harbingers bristle as you walk side by side in the halls of Zapolyarny Palace - he says you should consider it an honor to walk with him, and it inflates his ego when you reply with a small nod and a smaller smile. Behind the others' backs, he follows you like a lost child, always walking behind you, gripping on to the back of your clothes like you might slip away if he's not careful. He's obsessed with the way you look at him and ask him questions about his creation. He fails to see that the adoration you hold for him is as hollow as he is.

Signora wonders if you know when she is at her lowest, that would certainly explain things, wouldn't it? She thinks she has lost her mind when she sees glimpses of her lost love when turning corners too quickly, haunting her when she lets her guard down but then you're in front of her, greeting her with a soft smile that feels all too familiar and she realizes she has gone mad in other ways (she welcomes that newfound madness like the lover that it is, finally coming home).

Pantalone who believes that one of life's greatest pleasures is to own what others cannot - to collect the rare, the exquisite and the hard to obtain - and to have you, a person of great mind and ranking, be dangled right infront of him on a piece of gold thread held by the Tsaritsa, who was he to resist the urge to make you his? (after all, he deserves only the best) The longer he does not have you, the more your worth rises in his eyes.

Dottore who initially wants to pick apart your brain (quite literally) but his interest shifts and doubles when he reaches an epiphany that what he truly lacked from the Akademiya was someone who shared his intellect, a genius to match his own. Maybe you don't share his affinity for biology, but he loves the way your conversations keeps him on his toes (if you weren't a being close to perfection for him before, then you certainly are now.)

Arlecchino who watches as you care for the children in the orphanage, checking in on them even long after they've joined the ranks of the Fatui and compares it to the frigid ways of the other Harbingers. For the first time since being a part of this cold nation, she is envious of the warmth you give (why must you have so much love to share?) She thinks that should the day come she turns her back on this frigid country, she would surely take your hearth with her.

Marionette who finds herself being drawn to the way you move around a room and hold yourself up in front of people, marveling at the intricacies of each part of your body and the way they make up the being that is you (you could trip and fall and she'd still sigh in awe). Her fascination turns you from muse to future subject. Surely such a specimen must be preserved, right? Not to mention, there would be no greater honor than to turn the Tsaritsa's best into a perfect unchanging doll.

Damselette who usually goes quiet when you're in the same room as her, always eager to hear you talk, almost hissing when a Harbinger tries to speak over you. She finds your voice is the one in her head who speaks reason to her when she gets a bit out of control (Does she listen? No, but your voice is always ever so lovely). Wouldn't it be so nice if you're the lone voice she hears always, the same way you're already always in her thoughts?

Capitano who is thankful his mask covers the fond look he gets when you turn to him - not with fear like the lower ranking Fatui or haughty like the Harbingers - but as an equal, leveling him with a gaze that leaves him fooling himself that it means something more. He's less thankful for his mask when someone calls your attention away from him and he can't control the glare he sends their way (maybe if they saw the way he looked at them, they'd finally be put in their place).

Pulcinella is quick to put you in a pedestal - you are someone to be respected and someone to be kept at a distance. And yet as he watches the Harbingers fall deeper and deeper into obsession, he takes it upon himself to protect the Tsaritsa's favorite and the Fatui's brain from whatever his co workers are plotting. As he spends more time with you (making sure the others do not occupy all of your time), the pedestal he keeps you on crumbles until all he sees is another child to keep under his wing. He fails to see he has only fallen into a different hole as the rest.

Strategist!Darling who may pretend to be oblivious to the Harbingers' feelings but is actually letting it all happen to make sure they all stay under the Tsaritsa's rule one way to another.

Does Pierro know what you're doing? Maybe. It's not like he is blind to how the Harbingers act around you, subtle as they try to be. If you spend enough time with him, you might be able to tell that he enjoys watching you play the part of a fool, dancing around the others and making them dance for you, too. He might even step in once he thinks the other Harbingers are stepping out of line, but it all depends on what he gets out of sticking into your business.

I also like the dynamic where although the Harbingers cannot make a move to claim what is "their's", darling is just as trapped. Although they always sometimes want to leave, they know as much as anyone that the Tsaritsa is the only thing standing between them and the others. The moment they try to leave the Tsaritsa's side or they lose her favor, it's all fair game for the Harbingers.

Everyone is stuck in a stalemate until someone makes a misstep.

✨ Masterlist ✨ 

Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu 💛 @wonpielle

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[certifiablyinsanez]

Stolas has probably spent the majority of his life wishing he was dead. He sang to his little daughter “when I’m gone you’ll be okay”. He’s made it clear that he places little value on his life. Before Blitz arrived in his life, he was probably hanging on by a frayed thread, his daughter being the only thing keeping him alive. But with his certainty that his daughter hates him, what does he have to live for? As someone who was passively suicidal for 13 years, I can say definitively that it isn’t enough to only stay because of the people you love. The suffering is just too great. The reasons someone stays alive are often unromantic, minute, and seemingly insignificant. More often than not, you’re only still alive because you can’t actually make yourself do the deed. You wait for the right day, to do it in the right way and the stars just never align to make it happen. Your days blend together in a haze of misery with tiny seeds of hope sprinkled here and there, and then one day you realize that maybe you do want to live. You never see it coming. You never plan for it or expect it to happen, or know when it’ll arrive. Blitz is that reason, that blazing light in an endless darkness. The shooting star that burst through a night sky as dark as pitch. The reason to live that surprised Stolas with how much fire it put back in his life, how much joy, how much light, even when it was causing him pain. Stolas Goetia, who has spent his whole life surrounded by glittering jewels and castle walls, able to summon the skies of stars and suns, had no light in his life until Blitz arrived. Blitz is the light.

Blitz has had to be stone for most of his life. In his childhood he had to brace his little spirit against all the odds, because he was an imp who had weird dreams, and was surrounded by people who had no faith in him. And the few people that loved him were lost to him. With no home and no family or friends, one can only imagine how hard his life was for many years after that. He had to steel himself, become hard and heartless just to get by. He still had dreams and ambitions but remained deeply lonely for many years. “You tried the solo act, it didn’t work out very well.” He’s a wounded dog that doesn’t know why he bites. He’s convinced he’s a walking curse, that he does nothing but hurt and leave misery in his wake. And because of all this, he didn’t bother trying. He allowed himself to take and leave nothing behind. He allowed himself to hurt because whether he tries or not doesn’t matter because the end result is always the same. Stolas was another thread in his tragic tapestry, but his thread was bright gold in a sea of beige. Blitz tried to ignore the thread. What’s one more? But it shimmered too brightly. It was too beautiful, too rare, too exquisite to disregard. His heart, sick and small, was removed in a strange twist of fate, and Stolas put himself in the hole that was left behind, giving parts of his own heart that overflows. Stolas is his heart.

[mirohlayo]

hi lyna, I hope you're having a great day! for your event, can I request a coconut 🥥 “no one’s ever going to hurt you again. i promise you that on everything i believe in.” with charles? please and thank you!! 🩷

Here is it !! Hope you'll like it and hope you're having a great day too :))

PROMISE

Sometimes you felt weak. Bad and sad. The world seemed to be falling apart as you tried to hold on. To hold on to that faint glimmer of hope, because in the end it was worth it.

The sky was covered in stars as you felt the coolness of the night fall on your frail skin. The tears that were slowly streaming down your face have finally dried, but your eyes are still wet from the pain of those salty drops.

The balcony door opened, Charles appearing in its frame. You loved spending a little time alone, with yourself, on the balcony at night, enjoying the beauty of the sky. But this little moment of yours was starting to seem a little too long and suspicious for Charles, who was worried about you.

He approaches you, placing his hands gently on your shoulders, his gaze concerned. He stays there for a moment, awkwardly caressing your shoulders. He didn't want to hurt you, he didn't want to rush you. He can feel your body trembling slightly under his touch, and it breaks his heart, which was suffocating at the thought of you being sad.

He then walks around you, kneeling in front of you. It was there where he could see your wet eyes shining in the night, where he could become aware of your fears. You don't like to appear so weak in front of him, but at that moment you didn't care. He has the right to see you in this light, to witness your feelings.

The palm of his hand comes to rest delicately on your cheek, caressing your pale skin with his thumb. Despite your tears and your red eyes, the faint glow of the moon reflects your face with exquisite beauty, making you indefinitely beautiful and angelic. And Charles could stay for hours admiring you like that.

Your eyes are always fixed on the sky, far in front of you. You admire the constellations, because you always strangely found comfort in them. Charles follows your rhythm, follows the pace at which your thoughts race. And then, his heart wanted to comfort you.

“Tell me everything, angel. Tell me what’s on your heart, I’m here to listen to you. I promise.” His voice was only a whisper, a breath or even a sigh, so pleasantly soft. A faint smile appears on your face, noticeable enough for Charles to savor every second of it.

A silence settles, revealing the hesitation in your words. His hands then slide to your knees, and his touch spreads a comforting warmth all over your body. "I don't really know. Some people make me feel bad. That's all...". More tears threaten to fall, so you try to force them back as best you can.

You lower your head, anchoring your gaze on your hands which are nervously playing with each other. Charles' gaze softens, realizing that the silence that follows reflects your inability to say more about what you feel. He wraps your hands in his, placing a soft kiss on your fingers.

Each of his gestures are precise but delicate, extremely tender. His touch spreads a wave of love throughout your body, chasing away a little the painful feelings you currently feel. “No one’s ever going to hurt you again. I promise you that on everything I believe in.”

He could only let these few words escape in a sigh. He didn't need to say more, not yet. These words are the promise of eternal love, and that He will watch over you no matter the circumstances. Yet he really means it. He will never let anything or anyone hurt you, not as long as he is here with you.

He promised you, and he will never let that promise break.

“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?” You can just nod, before he gently places you on your bed. He pulls the white covers over you, then slides over to hold you in his arms. As sleep comes to you, he leaves long lazy kisses on your hair, enjoying the calm and serenity you feel when you are asleep.

Because he knows that when you sleep, all your sorrows and pains fade away to give way to wonderful, happy dreams. After all, that's what he hopes and wants most in the world : to see you happy.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Hey I’ve been having a rough few days and was wondering if you could do a vox reader with a breeding kink and he’s really protective. Anything else is up to you :) if not thank you anyway! Love your stuff

A/n:I AM SO SORRY I MISSED THIS AND I REALLY HOPE YOU'RE FEELING BETTER!

He wasn't quite sure what was wrong with him, the moment he caught your eye Vox knew that he had to have you, he didn't care what the other Vee's thought and once your where his the Overlord was determined to make you his permanently and what better way than to make you pregnant with his kid.

He knew he didn't have to do this but he wanted it, he needed to do it.

A nail hooking under your chin forcing you to look at him, he could feel the warmth radiating off your skin, your shy little smile was doing something to him.

The way you pressed yourself against him left his breath ragged with barely contained desire. Your small gesture of grasping his tie, the look in your eyes...you wanted this too. His princess, so beautiful, so perfect. Leaning in, Vox wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you flush against his body as his other hand roamed up to caress your cheek tenderly as he kept his gaze focused on you. "You're nothing but trouble." His thumb brushed your plump lip teasingly. "I'm going to ravish you to the point where you forget your own name."

"Vox! Please!" Your lips placed a small kiss to the nape of his neck.

That single plea along with your kiss on his neck was all it took to fray the last threads of his restraint. With a low growl, he spun you around unceremoniously and pinned you against the wall in one smooth motion, caging you with his arms on either side of your head. Your surprised gasp tickled your sense of possession as he ravaged your mouth in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss.

His tongue delved deeper, tasting every inch of your sweet cavern while grinding himself against your core to let you feel how much he ached for you. You mewled and clung to the overlord, arching into his hard length seeking friction. He tore away from the kiss to lavish attention on your neck, biting and sucking marks onto your skin. "You will be the death of me, woman."

Without breaking contact, Vox lifted you up effortlessly and pinned your form between himself and the wall. His hands roamed to squeeze your breasts, swallowing your moans. "I'm going to take you right here, right now. Let everyone hear how much you love it when I fuck you senseless." With that, he tore away your skirts and panties in one go before sinking into your drenched heat with a possessive thrust.

He sheathed himself to the hilt with one final thrust, swallowing your cry of pleasures. You felt exquisitely tight and wet clenching around him, and he had to restrain myself from spilling on the spot. No, this joining was meant to last, to fully worship each and every reaction from you.

Sliding my his under your thighs, he kept you pinned against the wall for better leverage as he pulled out almost completely before slamming back in. The lewd, wet slapping of your joining echoed obscenely but he was past the point of caring, only focused on the ecstasy twisting your expression.

"You like it when I take you like this, don't you, dove? Filling you over and over until your sweet cunt milk me dry." He punctuated each word with deep, punishing thrusts meant to reach the deepest part of your core. Your nails drew blood from his back but the biting pain only spurred him further into a maddened rhythm.

He tilted your hips to change the angle of penetration, targeting that sweet spot inside relentlessly. "Come for me, beloved. Drain this cock inside you and drink every drop as is your due." The chords of your climax snapped shut around him and he followed with a guttural groan, flooding your womb with my seed in thick ropes.

As you went lax yet still clinging desperately in his arms after reaching blissful completion together, he felt his possessiveness growing even more. Nothing makes him happier than pleasuring his star and have you sated. Stilling your harsh breathing, he held you tenderly against the wall, unwilling to part from your warm embrace even for a moment.

His princess felt so impossibly tiny and fragile cradled in his arms like this yet your passion and fire knew no bounds. He worshipped every inch of your flushed face, kissing your brows, nose, cheeks and finally your lips in adoring touches. "I love you, my Star. So much that it consumes me whole."

He meant every word from the deepest pits of his being. You were is his whole world and reason for living. Carefully lowering you until your feet touched the ground but not letting go, Vox brushed aside your mussed hair lovingly. "Come, let get the fuck back to our room for the rest of the night."

Lifting you easily in his arms, you sighed as your eyes closed falling asleep. Vox keeping his head high as he carried you off. He'll keep his word, but for now he's going to let you rest.

You'll need it.

[lucifersresources]

quotes about That Person pinterest inspired.

edit/alter/change pronouns etc as you see fit!  

you and i will always be unfinished business.

i tried to love you into loving me... that's not how love works.

loving you was a sacrifice. i gave you the power to destroy me, and that's exactly what you did.

i gave you the power to destroy me, and that's exactly what you did.

you will always have a special place in my heart, and that terrifies me.

i won't ever forget you, and maybe that is the only forever the two of us were meant to have.

i'm sorry i had nothing to say that night.

i was so interested to see how you'd break my heart.

you planted flowers inside of me... foolish of me to think you'd water them.

it's pathetic, really, how much i still hope it's you and me in the end.

you said you'd be here.

hell exists... it's 3am, here, without you.

i'm scared that loving you is the only thing i got right, and it still wasn't enough.

i regret the end, the way we couldn't leave one another without wounds.

we made it seem as if all the love we shared was wasted time.

i will always remember the way you folded me at my corners, like there was a part of me you wanted to come back to.

you made me feel, and i don't like it. stop it.

i wish the best for you, i just wish that i was the best for you.

maybe in another lifetime, we get it right.

you had my heart before i could say no.

loving you is the most exquisite form of self destruction.

fuck you for giving up on me.

the worst pain is being hurt by the same person you explained your pain to.

you fucking broke me, and i'm still the one apologising.

i broke my own heart loving you.

now you're just a stranger with all my secrets.

sometimes the beginning is the same as the ending.

what if no one makes me feel the way that you do?

you made it look so damned easy to walk away from me.

you were the hardest lesson i ever had to learn.

you didn't say goodbye, and part of me keeps believing that means you're coming back.

i would've left the entire world behind for you.

you leave teeth marks on everything you love.

all of your devotion turns violent.

you let me go, but you left claw marks.

i don't think i'll ever know how to love someone without swallowing them whole.

love is supposed to turn you soft... i think it only ever turns me brutal.

we wanted each other in the way of flesh wanting to knit itself together over a wound.

[seat-safety-switch]

For some reason I can't understand, the local mall still has a travel agent. She seems to be doing pretty well, too, judging from her new Porsche and her exquisite office digs. As you can imagine, this whole thing was confusing to me, because I thought the internet had worked hard to crush all small business proprietors such as herself under an algorithmic boot the size of Topeka. So what was going on here? I had to get to the bottom of it.

As I said, the internet has done a lot to get rid of travel agents. If I wanted to go to Osaka (great food, better Hondas) I could just ask Siri to do it. Ted Siri is the name of the nice person at the library who I tell all my passwords and credit card numbers to, and then he puts them in the computer. That's not his real name, because he tries to keep it safe from "crackers," but I digress. On the internet, the lowest-cost flight is going to take 192 hours and involve my organs getting stolen and sold for Bitcoins, but the second lowest-cost flight is on Air Canada, where the stewardesses spit directly into your mouth when you ask for a drink. Some folks pay extra for that (and you will, too. Spit's not free.)

If the travel agent was still travel agenting, she must be charging an insane amount of money and not getting busted for it. I had to know how this worked, so that I, too, could have my own little mall office that doesn't make any economic sense yet persists until the heat death of the universe. You see, owning a tiny office in a mall was one of my childhood dreams, one that is quickly becoming impossible due to the collapse of malls.

Unfortunately, detective work of this grade doesn't come cheap. For instance, I had to get up and out of the house during the hours that the travel agency was open. Agnes (that's her name, I don't know if I mentioned this earlier?) wouldn't be working at the 11:30-11:45 pm "productivity hour" that I read about in a life hacking magazine. She would be busy doing something that normal people do at this hour, possibly sleeping or barbecuing.

As much as it pained me, I forced my body to get out of bed at around ten in the morning and stumble into Agnes's travel office. It was then that I discovered she wasn't there at all. Inside the space allocated for her travel agency, beyond the pretty ornamentation and fantastic brochures of the waiting room, was a room containing only a crudely-carved set of stairs reaching deep, deep under the mall. It was only then that I remembered that I never saw any customers leaving the travel agency.

Everything worked out in the end, though. She got me a great deal on a flight/hotel package to Osaka, and all it cost me was a little teensy-tiny bite of my liver. Don't even miss it, really, although it was a bit insulting when she started choking, hissing, and screaming while thrashing on the ground, her arms flailing violently against the stone surface of the travel agency's cave.

"What's in this?" she screamed before dissolving into a red mist.

"Rotella," I said after some thought.

[moonselune]

Hey, welcome back to insatiable readers (including me 😂)! 🖤 I just finished a quest with Astarion in the palace and a crazy idea came to my mind. Could you please write something about femTav x Astarion where he getting jealous because Casador starts openly flirting with Tav in order to anger Astarion? Have a good day xx!

how did we manage to make Cazador worse, how did we manage it ? And thank you so much it is so good to be back!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion x reader | Revulsion

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The dark, oppressive air of Cazador’s gaudy palace weighed heavy on your shoulders as you and Astarion stood side by side, ready to confront the vampire lord once and for all. The marble floors beneath you gleamed in the eerie torchlight, casting long shadows on the ornate walls, filled with macabre paintings and decor that reeked of death and arrogance. You could feel the malevolent energy in the room, humming like a faint whisper in your ears.

Astarion’s grip on your hand was tight, almost painful, as you approached the central chamber where Cazador Szarr, his former master, waited. You could sense the tension radiating from him, the anger and dread curling beneath his skin like a storm ready to break. His knuckles were white around the hilt of his dagger, and his fangs were bared ever so slightly, his eyes glowing with murderous intent.

As you stepped into the chamber, there he stood—Cazador Szarr, bathed in the cold light of the dark chapel. He looked as regal and cruel as ever, his lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. The sight of him made your skin crawl. The aura of ancient, twisted power rolled off him in waves, suffocating and vile.

“Ah, Astarion,” Cazador purred, his voice like silk dipped in poison. “I see you’ve returned at last. And you’ve brought such… delicious company.”

His eyes flicked to you, sharp and predatory, lingering a beat too long, and you felt the full weight of his gaze sweep over you. It sent a chill down your spine, not from fear, but from disgust. Astarion bristled beside you, his body tensing further, a low growl building in his throat.

“I am not here for your games, Cazador,” Astarion hissed, stepping in front of you protectively, his voice venomous.

But Cazador’s smirk only deepened, clearly delighted by Astarion’s reaction. He rose from his throne with the grace of a predator, his dark robes trailing behind him as he descended the steps toward you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Oh, but my dear Astarion, this is no game,” Cazador said smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. “I was merely admiring the charming creature you’ve brought before me. You, my dear,” he said, addressing you directly now, “are far too exquisite to be wasted on someone as… broken as Astarion.”

Your stomach turned, but you kept your expression impassive, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Astarion’s hands trembling with fury, his fangs fully bared now, his eyes glowing with rage.

“And yet,” Cazador continued, his tone casual but his eyes glinting with malice, “you seem so enthralled by him. Such a shame. A creature as captivating as you deserves far better. I could give you power beyond imagining. You could stand at my side, rule the night by my hand…”

He stepped closer, his gaze fixated on you with unnerving intensity. “Astarion would understand. After all, what could he possibly offer you?”

You could feel the revulsion bubbling up in your chest, your fists clenching at your sides.

“What could you possibly offer me, Cazador?” you snapped, your voice icy. “Another empty throne? Another twisted deal? I’d rather burn in the sunlight than spend another second entertaining your delusions.”

Cazador’s eyes flashed with something dark, but his smile never wavered. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Oh, my dear, you wound me. But I suppose you’ll come to your senses in time. Power is a seductive thing, and you’ll soon see how small and weak your lover truly is.”

That was the final straw.

Astarion, his patience shattered, launched himself at Cazador with a feral snarl.

“Enough!” he roared, his blade flashing as he closed the distance between them. “I will tear you apart for that!”

The room erupted into chaos as Astarion lunged, his blade aimed straight for Cazador’s throat. But Cazador was fast, faster than you’d ever seen, moving with the grace of a centuries-old predator. He dodged Astarion’s strike with an infuriating ease, his laughter echoing through the chamber.

“You always were so predictable, my boy,” Cazador taunted, dancing backward with fluid movements. “Such a temper.”

But Astarion was relentless, his attacks coming in a flurry of vicious slashes and stabs, his face twisted with fury. You could see the desperation in his eyes—the need to kill Cazador, to end this nightmare once and for all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Cazador is just so yucky, ew, I had to do a gif of Astarion throwing his ass around. Hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[rainystarters]

๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪🗡ྀ࿔ 〖 and other stories . . . 〗 a collection of dialogue + action prompts inspired by angela carter's the bloody chamber and other stories. some prompts usfw. add +reversed for the muse receiving the meme to perform the action instead. adjust details as necessary.

dialogue :

are you sure you want to marry him?

oh! how you must want me!

soon.

i had never been vain until i met you.

anticipation is the greater part of pleasure.

all the better to see you.

what is that key? the key to your heart?

every man must have one secret, even if only one, from his wife.

all is yours, everywhere is open to you.

but now... what shall i do now?

my darling, i cannot wait for the moment when you make me yours completely.

there is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer.

you are in some great distress.

any bride brought to a castle should come ready dressed in mourning.

oh god. i can smell the blood.

i thought all these were old wives' tales, chattering of fools, spooks to scare bad children into good behavior!

can't it wait until morning, my darling?

who can say what i deserve or no?

i've done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.

i have a place prepared for your exquisite corpse upon my display of flesh.

good fellow? i am no good fellow.

forgive me for robbing your garden!

all she wanted, in the whole world, was one white, perfect rose.

and what else was there to be done?

they are the death of any tender herbivore.

so late! you will want sleep.

you will come back to me? it will be lonely here, without you.

i will come back. soon, before the winter is over.

i am sick and i must die.

if you'll have me, i'll never leave you.

i think i might be able to manage a little breakfast today.

i have lost my pearl, my pearl beyond price.

if you are so careless of your treasure, you should expect them to be taken from you.

for all my pride, my heart is heavy.

if you wish to give me money, then i should be pleased to receive it.

i shall twist a noose out of my bed linen and hang myself with it.

you are a woman of honor.

nothing human lives here.

we have dispensed with servants.

take off my clothes for you, like a ballet girl? is that all you want of me?

all cats are cynics.

you read my thoughts, my love.

the woods enclose. the wood swallows you up.

all will fall still, all lapse.

it is easy to lose yourself in these woods.

i thought that nobody was in the wood but me.

there are some eyes can eat you.

sometimes the birds, at random, all singing, strike a chord.

eat me, drink me.

dive in and fetch it for me.

now you are at the place of annihilation.

and she is herself a cave full of echoes, she is a system of repetitions, she is a closed circuit.

can a bird sing only the song it knows or can it learn a new song?

beauty is a symptom of disorder, of soullessness.

a single kiss woke up the sleeping beauty in the wood.

be he alive or be he dead.

coffee. you must have coffee.

welcome. welcome to my chateau.

i rarely receive visitors and that's a misfortune since nothing animates me half as much as the presence of a stranger.

this place is so lonely.

now the village is deserted.

often i am so silent that i think i, too, will soon forget how to do so and nobody will ever talk any more.

i must apologize for the lack of light.

you have such a fine throat, like a column of marble.

i am condemned to solitude and dark.

i do not mean to hurt you.

i will be very gentle.

and could love free me from the shadows?

i've been waiting for you in my wedding dress, why have you delayed for so long.

you will feel no pain, my darling.

so delicate and damned, poor thing. quite damned.

the end of exile is the end of being.

it is a northern country; they have cold weather, they have cold hearts.

the devil is as real as you or i.

do not leave the path.

you are always in danger in the forest.

they are as unkind as plague.

fear and flee the wolf; for, worst of all, the wolf may be more than he seems.

besides, aren't you afraid of the wolves?

actions :

clasp. from behind, the sender places their hands over the receiver's eyes.

opera. through opera glasses, the sender watches the receiver.

choker. the sender fastens a gemstone necklace around the receiver's neck.

carriage. the sender locks the receiver in with them in their train compartment.

spine. the sender presses a kiss to the back of the receiver's bare neck.

cigar. the sender leans in and blows smoke in the receiver's face.

ermine. the sender wraps the furs around the receiver tighter as the snow falls.

keys. the sender silently enters the room and listens to the receiver play piano.

harem. the sender undresses the receiver before a collection of mirrors.

lazy. the sender brings the receiver breakfast in bed.

call. the sender calls the receiver and bursts into tears upon hearing their voice.

note. the sender discovers a love letter sent to the receiver from a previous lover.

death. the sender finds the receiver with the body of their latest victim.

hospitality. the sender watches from the shadows as the receiver take refuge from a storm in the sender's seemingly abandoned home.

servant. invisible, the sender feeds/washes/cares for the receiver.

hearth. the sender and the receiver talk past midnight by the fire's light.

hands. the sender falls to their knees before the receiver and kisses their hands.

bouquet. the sender has a hundred white roses sent to the receiver.

reunion. the sender lays eyes upon the receiver for the first time in an age.

bad luck. the sender hangs their head having lost a bet to the receiver.

voice. the sender sends their valet to speak their desires to the receiver.

powder. the sender dresses/makes up the receiver before an important night.

stallion. the sender grabs the reins of the receiver's horse and leads them away.

weep. the sender cries at the sight of the receiver in such a state.

dry. the sender brushes a tear from the receiver's cheek.

flush. the sender pinches the receiver's skin, watching it redden with blood.

prey. the sender guides the receiver's hands as together they skin a rabbit.

song. the sender sings and the receiver is spellbound, their feet following their song's command.

caught. the sender locks the receiver into a cage.

green. by the sender's command, the growth begins to take over the receiver.

tarot. the sender tells the receiver they are doomed to a sad fate.

stain. the sender touches the bloodstain on the receiver's white negligée.

wild. the sender rides hard through the night, chasing the receiver.

thirst. the sender sinks their teeth into the neck of the receiver.

china. the sender pours tea for the receiver and offers them biscuits.

blemish. the sender explores the receiver's skin and finds the mark of a witch.

wolf. the wolf reveals themself to be the sender before the receiver.

muzzle. the sender kisses the monstrous mouth of the receiver.

[holybibly]

Im so embarrass to ask this request..

Well im kind of new😭

Honestly can u do mommy dom hwa...

Like mommy hwa is so hot and dom hwa too 🤭🤭 so why not both🤭 i have read many fics abt mommy hwa it just sooo sexy...

I hope u will accept my request!!:3

Well, well, well, I see that all my bunnies just can't get enough of mommy Hwa from Pretty Flushed, and they want more.

Well, I'll give you more, just don't blame me later for getting more than you could bite.

Dom mommy Seonghwa punishing his little naughty girl for disobedience.

"How many times do I have to tell you before you learn your lesson? Mommy doesn't like naughty girls. And you, you were very naughty today..." Seonghwa's velvety voice sounds in your ears like molten honey on your skin, burning and sweet.

Your arms are tied to the headboard with silk ribbons, and your legs are spread wide so that your wet, swollen pussy is exposed to his gaze. Seonghwa's long fingers are glistening in the dim light of the bedroom, completely covered in your juices as they slide in and out of you with a sadistic slowness. You want to cum desperately, wanting this almost painfully, wanting more, but this is how you get punished.

Seonghwa will continue this exquisite torture as long as he wants.

"I'm so sorry, mommy... I didn't mean it like that; I swear, it's just..."

A hard slap on the tender skin on the inside of your thigh made you whimper loudly and close your eyes from the searing but deliciously pleasant pain. Your mind was clouded by the amazing sensation of his skilled fingers being inside of you.

You were so close to your sweet release, but Seonghwa pulled his fingers out of you with a loud squelching sound and instead slapped the palm of his hand against your leaking, slutty cunt. All you could do was sob pathetically in response, accepting everything your mommy thought you deserved.

In Seonghwa's eyes, you were so adorable—all tied up and completely submissive to him.

"Bad girls can't come, sweetheart. They don't deserve to be released in the slightest, do you understand?" God, why does he have to use that royal condescending tone with you at this moment?

You hadn't been able to bring yourself to look him in the eye. You weren't even sure what it was you had done to unleash this monster in front of you. Your mommy, who is always so sweet and gentle, is completely different from the devilish man in front of you. Usually,  Seonghwa is not so harsh with the punishment, but today, my God, something had set him off.

"Mommy...p-please let me cum...I'm so sorry, I swear I'll be obedient..."

Slap! And another one after that: your legs automatically want to close up; this kind of stimulation is too exhausting and painful for you at the moment. But you know better than to provoke Seonghwa like that. You should also learn to keep your pretty little mouth shut before you let him do it for you.

And he'll do it right now. His beautiful, hard cock, long and stringy, dripping with pre-cum, ends up right in front of your face. Seonghwa smiles arrogantly as he unties the silk from your wrists, freeing your hands, and before you can react, the sudden thrust of his hips pushes his thick cock into your mouth, causing you to choke on it.

"Ah, ah, be a good girl and take mommy's dick in your fucking mouth." He grasps you roughly by the hair and tilts your head so that you can see all of his handsome features, a dark grin spreading across his sensual lips. "Perhaps mommy will be kind enough to finish off your punishment in here and let you come on my big, fat cock. You'd like that, sweetheart. Wouldn't you?" You could only nod at his words. Your face, so swollen and red from crying, was a sight for his eyes.

His hips begin to move slowly, and you try to relax your jaw in an attempt to ease the slight pain caused by the sudden intrusion. Your watery eyes closing, thick tears streaming freely down your face, Seonghwa's face freezes into a sadistic expression as he tightens his grip on your hair, his other hand wrapped around your neck in a light and gentle stranglehold, feeling the outline of his cock beneath his palm each time he enters your mouth.

"That's it, little girl; be obedient and please your mommy."

Seonghwa's pace begins to increase fast and mercilessly, making you gasp each time his cock plunges deep into your throat; it's a satisfying sound for him. Hwa growls above you, his voice so deep and sexy that you think you could cum just from the sound of it.

His rough thrusts continue until he feels that he's about to cum, and he quickly pulls away from you with a loud pop as his cock leaves your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting the red, swollen head of his cock to your lips. He strokes your tear-stained cheek, laughing softly at the completely lost expression on your face.

"My god, you've been such a good girl for mommy. I think you've earned your reward now, have you? Hmm?" Seonghwa could see the stars shining in your eyes as you nodded furiously at him, so eager to please him and to enjoy the sweet feeling of orgasm from him. "Look how charming you are. Can't you always be as obedient as you are now? You just have to be nice, and mommy won't punish you, darling. Get down on all fours, baby, and mommy is going to give you the best orgasm of your  life." Like an obedient little kitten, you obeyed without question.

When you got down on all fours, you deliberately lifted your ass higher, shaking it too eagerly, desperate to come as soon as possible and to have Seonghwa shower you with care and love when it's all over.

“Good girls, stay put and wait patiently. You're a good girl, aren't you?"

You immediately stopped all of your movements, as you did not want to upset him again. Seonghwa's hands grabbed your ass cheeks and spread them apart. He watched as your cunt literally squeezed on nothing, the humiliation spreading through your body like a tidal wave.

Seonghwa just laughed at this, which made you whimper and push your ass towards him, which only resulted in a hard, hard slap on the cheek of your soft ass. The mark on his palm turned your skin an angry pink.

"If you keep this up, I'm going to fucking put you back where you were, and you won't be able to come until you've learned to obey me. If you keep acting like a bitch, you won't get nothing, baby. Or have you forgotten that mommy doesn't like naughty girls?" He asked. His soft tone changed so quickly, back to a cold, arrogant distance, and it scared you, so you just nodded obediently, frozen, waiting for Seonghwa to decide what to do with you next.

For a moment, you were completely lost in your thoughts. Then you felt your walls begin to stretch around the thick girth of Seonghwa's cock, causing you to moan loudly and long.

"Hmm, my love, I have prepared you so well, and you are still so tense? How many times does your mommy have to fuck your slutty little cunt for you to be able to take my dick with a single thrust?" The sudden movement of his hips made you whimper, and you buried your face in the pillow.

"Please, mommy..."

He holds you in his arms from behind, his arms wrapped around your belly, his eyes hooded with lust as he leans down to your face and whispers in your ear.

"I love you so much...baby, do you want to come on my cock, baby girl? My little girl wants to come so badly, doesn't she?"

A wave of pleasure shoots through you as he rubs his fingers quickly and persistently against your clit - it was too intense for you, your orgasm hitting you like a fast train—your knees buckle under him, and you fall limply to the bed as your pussy clench around his cock. As Seonghwa continues to fuck you mercilessly, overstimulating your entire body, your hot tears soak the pillow, leaving you looking like a complete mess.

"Mommy, no more; it's too much. Please! T-too m-much!"

Seonghwa bites the back of your neck, leaving his possessive mark, and you can feel his chest vibrate against your back as he moans into your skin with a guttural sound.

"Didn't you say that was what you wanted? A little girl can't take everything that is given to her? That's a shame, because I'm going to take that cunt as much as I want."

His thrusts are hard and fast, the stimulation too intense to resist, and you come all over his cock again. You moan loudly as the head of his cock hits the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you.

"You are so sensitive, my love. Your cunt gives me such a good squeeze." Seonghwa's fingers rub against your clit again, your loud cries muffled by the pillow as you bite down on the fabric, and you squirm under him, hoping he'll finally get off you and give you a break.

Not satisfied with what you have done, he turns you over on your back, lifts your legs up to your chest, and fucks you hard in the mating pressure position. In this position, his cock goes much deeper into you. All you can do is hold on to his hand and squeeze it hard. You were totally helpless under him. You only wanted one orgasm after hours of torturing him with your fingers. But in the end, you got more than you could bite off.

"Well, darling, don't cry... shh... I'll definitely take care of you afterwards, OK? My girl, you treat me so well; mommy will feed you so well with her cum; you will be warm and full, my darling." His breathing was ragged; he made a few more sharp thrusts, and his hips calmed down as he began to empty his cum into you, filling you to the brim. The feeling of being so filled made you cum all around him again, and you lay completely limp on the bed. Your eyelids were heavy, your body was completely boneless, and your mind was far away and unfocused from all the orgasms you had been through.

"I hope that you have learned your lesson, my darling, and that you will continue to be an obedient and good little girl. Now, let your mommy take care of you, my little one." Seonghwa said as he placed a soft kiss on your tear-stained cheek.

No matter how rude he was to you, you always knew that Hwa would treat you like royalty afterwards, as confirmation of what you already knew very well: how much he loved you.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

cute bath with jason, candles and bubbles and light music playing and he’s sitting behind you and giving you kisses as you just talk about eachothers days

—

Time Written - 10:50 p.m

—

“I saw somewhere that they sell these trays that hang on the tub, like hooking on the edges. You can use it to read your book inside. With a glass of wine or tea, or scotch too.”

Rough fingers along your back rolled any remaining knots in your muscles, calloused hands gently stroking along the junction of our shoulder and neck.

“Scotch?” Jason huffs in amusement. “C’mon, y’know I’m not a scotch guy.”

“Whiskey, bourbon. Whatever,” you giggle, leaning your head forward as you swipe along any stray wet hair, only to feel his fingers completely halt.

“You forgot my tastes??” Jason expressed with complete shock at this horrifying discovery. “Baby, I’m hurt.”

Any further giggling was unavoidable as you see his face; twisted into mock pain, his lips formed into a tragic quiver as he gives his version of puppy dog eyes.

“An’ here I was, so very very proud of myself to drive all across town to that lush store you like so much, All for the bath salts!” Vocally expressing his pain, he clutched his chest in one hand, dramatically swooping his damp curls back to dress his palm over his forehead.

“Oh my god, Jason!”

“And they weren’t even on sale!” Jason continues on, leaning his head back further with feigned agony. “I spent good money on my woman, an’ she forgets that I’m a bourbon man!”

“Jason stop it!” You turn yourself just a little more, both hands coming out of the milky waters to settle along his upper arms.

“I got you that bottle of Four Roses earlier, I know what my man loves.”

Jason smirks whilst withdrawing his hands from their prior positions. He can’t help but laugh a little himself, lowering one of his hands under water to rest along your hip.

“What I love is that pretty look on your face, Doll.” He pinches your chin with feather-like softness before kissing you.

Coming home to this everyday; you, was a gift.

Getting to spend every minute in your intoxicating presence. What drug or alcohol could be possibly infect himself with when his brain provided such ecstasy with one look at you?

The lights were dimmed, the water still clung to its toasty warmth. The milky waters seeping with sweet soap, pearlescent powders, crushed oats and herbal oils.

An exquisite tastes of both lavender and honey soothing elegance, bodies dripping in glittering gold.

In some cases, you didn’t wanna do anything sexual when Jason came home. This bath, for example, both of you were naked yes, but it was possible to not think such thoughts in a precarious state.

Your one and only was home safe and sound, You loved nothing more.

Jason was more than okay with that.

If you weren’t up to it, neither was he. Vice versa.

A perfect, consensual balance.

This was much better than a book, even better than a drink. The sleep he always got after these baths were heavenly, nearly slumbering like a baby each time.

“After the day I’ve had, I prefer this right here instead of a drink.” Jason re-swipes his soaking wet hair back along his head, growing slightly irritated from his dipping curls dripping onto his face.

“What a way with words, handsome.” You smile as you turn your body slightly, letting your upper half settle more comfortably against his. His hand settles along your back, running soothing circles against your glistening skin.

“Jason.”

“Hm?”

“If I did buy you that bath tray, would this mean you’d read to me in here?”

“Probably,” he replies, pondering over which book exactly. Also if he believes he could be comfortable enough with literature in the tub.

“Might as well do some skincare too,” you ponder over the idea, to Jason’s confusion.

“Like, some eye masks or something. Make it a spa day.”

Jason remained… intrigued, adamant. Only eye masks he’s seen you use were those glittery jelly ones you put under your eyes. He’s tried them once, per your request. They weren’t bad, but he didn’t understand the uses to this day.

“You’re just giving Dick more things to talk about.” Jason chuckles, his eyes closing as your hand readjusts his sopping wet, snowy curl out of his face.

“As if he needs to know what we do. This is our time, remember?”

“Mhm.” He leans close, pressing a kiss along your cheek before leaning just a little lower, leaving a softer peck underneath your ear.

“Our time.” He murmurs, feeling your head lean against his touches.

“The day I can dress you in a bright pink robe—“

“Babe no.” Oh boy. “C’mon—“

“-With feather lining and fuzzy slippers. You’d look adorable!” Your purposefully cheery accent had him groaning your name in false irritancy against your neck, rolling his eyes.

“There’s no deal you can make with me for that to happen, Princess.”

“I can be very persuasive, Mister Todd,” your tone drops from its cheerful tease into a more slow, much familiar tune he was well accustomed to.

His chest rumbles with amusement, teal eyes narrowing with interest in your statement. You’re really eager for him to do such? Now you piqued his interest.

“I’d like to see you try, pretty girl.”

[lucygxybaird]

want him to told his baby girl that is named after his mom :(

ahhh cute cute cute :''') tw: childbirth

The labor had been long, lasting all night and through the early hours of the morning.

Billy hadn't spent more than a moment away from your side. Even then, it was only to fetch a basin of fresh, cold water to mop your brow, or to get the doctors whatever they needed. Every time he'd come back into the room, clutching a bundle of sheets, matches for the candles that had gone out -- no matter the errand they'd sent him on, he'd just blindly thrust the item at a nurse and gotten back into bed with you. He'd propped you up, holding you against his chest when you were tired, stroking your hair, murmuring encouragement.

Then came the moment when the past folded back on itself like the tide going out, carrying away who he was -- cowboy, outlaw, the avenging vigilante he'd become after Tunstall's death -- and the rest of his life came rushing in. With it came the most important thing he had ever been, apart from yours.

Father.

After the doctors have taken care of you, and the baby is wrapped up warm in her blanket, Billy perched on the side of the bed while you held your little girl. He puts his arm around you, carefully, not wanting to jostle you and cause you any pain. You look up at him and smile.

"You can hold me," you say gently. "I won't break."

He smiles, pulling you closer (his movements are still tentative). "I just don't wanna hurt you."

You nestle your head against his shoulder. "Oh, I'm fine," you say, looking into your daughter's face. "How could I be anything but?"

Billy reaches out to gently draw a fingertip over the peach of her cheek. "Look at you," he says to his little girl, his throat already lined with saltwater. "As pretty as your mama, like I knew you would be."

You shake your head, your gaze also trained on the baby. "Oh, these are your eyes, Mr. Bonney," you say, and he just smiles at you, kissing the top of your head.

"Have we decided on a name?" he asks.

You'd tried to bring it up before, but Billy had been afraid. Though he wouldn't count himself as a superstitious man, after everything -- and everyone -- he's lost, he didn't think he could bear naming the baby until she was here. It had seemed like tempting fate, and though he isn't sure he believes in that, he definitely didn't want to risk it.

Not with you, and not with the baby.

He looks over at you, and you give a little shrug as you answer, as if, really, this should have been obvious: "Kathleen."

Billy's throat tightens further, and he smiles, despite the fact his eyes are stinging. "Yeah? You sure?"

"Of course," you say. Your expression turns wistful, and you nibble at your lower lip. "I wish she could have..."

He swallows, leaning his cheek against your hair. "Me too."

You shift the baby in your arms, pressing her against Billy's chest. "Here," you say. "You wanna hold her?"

He nods, even as nerves creep up from the pit of his stomach, climbing his spine like a ladder. He keeps one arm around you and holds the baby in the crook of his free arm, hardly able to breathe for a moment.

"Hi," he says softly, and Kathleen eyes him seriously, her little round face solemn as she regards him.

He can feel your head bobbing against his shoulder as you fight sleep, and he smiles, looking over at you. "You can sleep, honey, I got her."

From the corner of his eye, he sees you smile. "Oh, I know."

It only takes a few moments for you to fall asleep, and Billy's glad to hear your breathing even out and soften. God knows you must be exhausted. He can't imagine sleeping himself, because that would mean looking away from his baby's exquisite little face.

"My girl," he says softly. Kathleen makes a little snuffling, sighing sound, her eyes falling shut. He thinks he could sit here forever with your body nestled against his, your baby in his arms.

"Hey, I gotta tell you somethin'," he murmurs, keeping his voice at a low, lulling volume as the baby settles against his chest. "I don't know if I'm gonna be any good at this. But your mama is the bravest, kindest, smartest lady in the whole world, so we'll be fine as long as we listen to her."

He watches the baby for a few minutes, mesmerized by the rise and fall of her tiny chest, by every little noise leaving her lips. "But you know what? I love you so much," he says. Carefully, he leans down and kisses Kathleen's forehead. "I've loved you since I first learned about you, and nothin' you could do or say is ever, ever, gonna change that, okay? You're always gonna have my love."

He settles more comfortably back against the pillows, careful to keep you snug against him with his other arm. "You and your mama both," he continues. "I'm gonna love the two of you for the rest of my life, an' I'm gonna do whatever it takes to care of you, an' protect you, an' make you happy."

He's reluctant to let the baby go, but his eyelids are finally starting to droop. He gently slides his arm free of you, taking Kathleen and putting her in the little cradle by the bed. Leaning over to look into her face, he smiles softly.

"I promise."