#but they just complete removed it in favour of a wall

[triffany-lottablog]

I found a super obscure silly newspaper comic series with these guys and the design choices for each of them are frankly baffling so I wanna redraw them but first I need to figure out designs that are expressive while still being on model which is easier said then done

[weasleyreidstyles]

between the shelves

for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge!!

prompt 1: "is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?"

pairing: theodore nott x reader (no house specified)

warning(s): none

~∞~ a short little drabble – i've never written anything for theo so i thought i'd give it a shot.

There are many beautiful mysteries within the castle walls. That includes Hogwarts' expansive library that holds every book one could think of, and more. It's earthy tones and the smell of ink on parchment paper permeates the air at all hours of the day and the rustle of books is the only sound, besides idle chit chat that fills the vast room.

Right now, you despise the library.

The table that you and your potions partner had chosen was small and crammed into a corner of two towering bookshelves and the heat that magically swept through the room seemed to be set to sweltering hot as you sat, clinging to the fabric sleeves of your cardigan, which you refused to remove. There are potions books strewn across the table, which you absolutely abhor to look at, especially as his deft finger trace featherlight patterns against the worn covers as he jots a note down onto a separate piece of parchment for the assignment the two of you have been tasked with completing.

It all seems physically impossible. The fact that you're totally abysmal at potions, paired with the way Theodore Nott made you so nervous. Sitting in the sweltering library with him, is the last place you want to be right now.

He was one of the most popular boys in your year. Star quidditch player; top of all his classes without even having to try; he had more friends than you had fingers and he was just so godsdamn attractive. Everyone either wanted him, or wanted to be him in some capacity. Sometimes when you looked at him, jealousy festered in your gut because how can he sit in lessons so nonchalantly, but still remain just below Hermione Granger in all of them? And how can someone be made to be that fucking attractive?

It was not fair.

But more often than not, when you catch yourself staring at him (it happens more frequently than you'd care to admit) you find yourself constantly picking out the little things about him that make your heart soar.

Like the way his nose twitches irritably when his slightly curled hair falls over his eyes, yet he refuses to get it cut shorter.

Or the way his mouth tilts into a devious smirk that has people swooning instantly.

When he's on the quidditch pitch, his agility could rival the professional. He was truely a real talent and he could have an amazing future career, you think.

But the most fascinating thing about him are his eyes. Theodore has the most captivating eyes you've ever seen. They are a kaleidoscope of blues and greys that you find yourself wishing to get lost in.

Unbeknownst to you, Theo looks up from his note taking and watches as you stare off into space, the potions book in front of you long forgotten. His lips lift into that arrogant smirk that you seem to admire quite a lot as he abandons his own work in favour of staring you down.

You must be miles away in your own mind because you barely concentrate on the fact that he's looking so deeply at you, that he may as well have been staring right at the makings of your very soul.

"Have you got a staring problem, dolcezza?" he asks, his deep voice a mixture of smooth and raspy. It makes your heartbeat pick up in speed as you're jolted from your wandering thoughts.

"I'm bored." You mumble, moving your hands, which are resting on your lap, to lay upon the table so that you can lie your head down. "Potions is so draining and it's so bloody hot in here."

"Is that it, or is it because you're in love with me?"

You sit up abruptly, eyes wide and mouth threatening to gape like a fish out of water as he merely stares back at you with his brows slightly raised. His smirk is widening, almost to a full blown grin. Gods he's so pretty, is all you can think as you roll your eyes at him.

He lets out the lightest of snickers as you ignore him and open your abandoned book, in favour of evading his gaze. But he could already see the blush crawling further and further across your cheeks.

"You can admit it if you want to, darling." He says teasingly, his voice is arrogant and silky and it makes you blush even more. "I don't blame you. Everyone seems to be in love with me."

He smiles prettily at you as you glare at him from across the table.

"No one like an egotistical brat, Theodore." you retort, but there's no bite in your words – there never is when it comes to him. And as he stares you down, you swear you can see the reciprocation in his gaze, but it's gone almost instantly when he turns back to his own notes.

One day, you'd tell him how you felt.

Today was not that day.

[puppyplayhouse]

Thinking about stressed owner Chan~

Warnings: cnc (but not really), rough sex, choking, hair pulling, degradation, praise.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐩་༘࿐

He's usually so nice and patient with his precious little puppy, but today was just different. He'd been running around all day listening to people talk at him, and the second he walked through the door, you wanted to share all the details of your new fixation.

It's not that he didn't love to hear you talk. He was just so pent up that he couldn't help but grip your throat carefully, right underneath your chin so that he could tilt your head up and have your pretty little eyes locked with his own.

One warning squeeze followed by "I need you to shut up for a little bit, okay?" In your favourite darkened tone, your always careful lover waiting patiently for you to nod your consent before he firmly grips your shoulder, spinning you around to face away from him and shoving you toward the couch. He likes the way you stumble a little, only standing beside it, forcing him to shove you over the arm of the thing as he roughly tugs your bottoms down, a quiet tearing sound sending a course of excitement and fear through you.

You know your safe word. Of course you do. But you know he'd never push you to your limits to begin with. He's done this a hundred times, and you're happy for him to take out his frustration on you.

He'll shove your face into a cushion as his fingers dip into you, a pleased groan filling the room as your dripping juices coat his fingers which are quickly removed in favour of a stinging slap to your cunt that leaves you flushed from the shamefully wet connection.

There's no need to ease into it. You're well acquainted with his size and he slips.in easily, immediately setting a harsh rhythm that has you whining and panting like a desperate bitch, his right hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair as the other kneads at your ass, his focus centred on the view of your cunt sucking him in, keeping him fit snuggle inside of you.

"That's it. That's my horny mutt." He'd pull you up so that your back is flush with his chest, sliding his forearm in front of your neck in a lazy headlock. "Takin' this dick so well, hm? Filthy little bitch. You just sit here and think about being filled with my cock all day, don't you?"

Of course, you don't respond. You just nod wildly and gasp for air, completely helpless and at his mercy.

"Fuck, you feel so good puppy. Pretty cunt was made for me. Maybe we need to show people how much it loves this dick."

He says it to taunt you, and he can feel your walls pulse in response, his lips finding your neck to suck at the skin and leaving blooming purple bruises in their wake.

He'd pull out before he came because he wants to stay worked up so he can keep fucking you all night, always when it's inconvenient for you. He smacks your ass and pulls your bottoms up and asks you what you want as if nothing happened at all and that's the last you'd hear of it until he's shoving you done against the kitchen counter while you're both cooking and pounding into you like his life depends on it!

[theemporium]

Can you please do a post full moon, sensitive, sub Remus x reader smut? We see a lot of dom Remus but I'd give anything for a sub Remus. It would be amazing if you write about it. Thankyou! stay safe and stay hydrated

-🎭💫

thank you, baby! i hope you stay hydrated too and i love these emojis bjdjew thank you for requesting!🖤

.

Remus loved taking care of you.

Whether it was simple acts during the day like holding your books on your way to class or making your coffee for you before you even sit down for breakfast. Or certain things in the bedroom that would satisfy a primal need in him when he had you laid out, writhing beneath him and screaming his name. 

He loved taking care of his girl, he loved knowing that you were spoiled like you deserved to be.

But there were a few days in the month where you got to return the favour, and as much as you loved your loving boyfriend, you craved those days too. 

“Shh, I’ve got you,” you whispered against his lips, the noises he was making muffled by your kisses as your hand stroked his sensitive cock. 

His eyes were glossy and bleary, his chest rising and falling with soft pants and his flushed cheeks were just a sight you couldn’t help but swoon over. The way his lips parted, red and swollen and wet, and his eyes clenched shut whenever the pleasure became too much. The way his body bucked and squirmed, but his hands were holding onto you like you were a lifeline—because in his eyes, you were.

“Feels so good,” he whined, his voice a little breathless as you placed kisses along the new scars that littered his chest. 

“Yeah?” you hummed, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you watched his face scrunch up as he neared his tipping point. “You wanna come, baby?” 

“Mmm,” he nodded, the noise whiny and high-pitched but you love it. 

“Pretty boy,” you praised, squeezing the tip of his cock before removing your hand completely. Remus instantly cried out, his teary eyes meeting your gaze but you took his face in your hands as you cooed. “Shhh, I’ve got you, baby, gonna make you feel so good.”

His hands fell to your waist as you straddled him, your legs on either side of him and knees digging into the mattress as you leaned down to kiss him. It was slow and sloppy, but the passion and love was still there as you leaned down to take a hold of his cock once again.

“Shit,” he hissed, his head falling back against the pillow as you swiped the tip of his cock along your soaking cunt before sinking down on him. “You…you’re so warm.” 

“All for you,” you murmured to him, your hands on his chest as you began to roll your hips.

“Mine,” he whimpered, his hands squeezing your waist tighter as you began to bounce on his cock. 

“All yours, baby,” you moaned out, your walls clenching around his cock as you began to move faster, seeking your own release as much as you were seeking his. 

Remus was a whining, moaning mess by the time he came. His arms had wound around you, keeping your chests pressed together as he spilled inside you. He nuzzled his face against your tits, whimpering at the way your walls clenched around his cock but he refused to move.

“It feels too fucking good,” he breathed out, his eyes falling shut as you sunk back down on his cock. “Wanna stay inside you.” 

“Anything you want, baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you relaxed against him until his cock was hard and ready again.

.

[chishiyasbiscuits]

car! || tatta x reader xo

[2.4k words.] [Warning: Smut. Car sex lol.]

It was eerily quiet now. The screams and cries of pure pain had washed out into the distance. Left with the King of Spades and his trail of despair. My heartbeat had only softened it's beat just then. After almost stretching out of my chest.

I sighed, dropping my back flat against a nearby wall. Arisu was speaking quietly to the others. I was listening of course, just from a distance. My arms crossed and I let my eyes scan the group. Stood, crouching into each other was Usagi, Kuina and Tatta. All staring into Arisu's determined eyes as if his intelligence could rewind time.

I was good acquaintances with Usagi. Only really conversing with her through Arisu. Kuina was a good friend. Tatta? I hadn't exactly spoken to him much. However that was my own fault. I swallowed, eyes trained on his anticipated expression. Watching as he nodded. I hadn't noticed how long I had been staring for until the boy raised his head. His eyes locked with mine, and his serious face rose into a sweet, outstretched smile. Genuine care emanated from the action and my shoulders dropped. My muscles relaxed, for what felt like the first time in years.

My lips formed a small smile, which his eyes creased at. Kuina noticed and raised her head in my direction. She saw my figure and blinked in puzzlement.

"Y/n." Arisu spoke for her. He stood from his bent over position. The others followed suit. "Would you mind doing a favour for us?"

The others stared at me, taking in my nonchalant form. I let my head drop into a nod and I removed myself from the wall. "What is it?" I asked. Arisu smiled, nodding. He then turned to face Usagi and Kuina. "We'll gather food for tonight. We also need a car to make our way around the city somewhat safely." He said, the last part he spoke while facing me. "Would you accompany Tatta to find a car?"

I parted my lips and drifted my gaze to Tatta. He smiled dorkily. My lips clashed together and I pulled my attention away from him before a blush could be evident. "Sure." I mumbled, head slightly lowered.

"Great." Arisu breathed out. Content with my decision. "Good luck." His head dropped firmly before turning to Usagi. She smiled sweetly in return. The group of three made their way toward a nearby shop. Leaving both me and Tatta in the dark confines of the alleyway. "Let's get this over with." I muttered beneath my breath, dropping my arms and walking toward the dark-haired boy. He smiled as I approached him. "Lets go." I spoke while interlocking my arm with his. His face dropped, and his body startled into the opposite direction. "Whoa, whoa."

"What?" I teased, blinking at his shocked face. "Have you never been touched by a girl before?" I rolled my eyes playfully before dragging him off. "Sure I have!" He returned, becoming annoyed. I suppressed a laugh. "Shut up.." He mumbled. Almost offended.

We soon reached an abandoned car park. One desolate, apart from the remains of multiple cars. Perhaps hundreds. It was dark, but neither of us appeared bothered by the lack of light. In fact Tatta was completely taken in by the amount of cars, especially the expensive ones. He laughed like a child and jogged toward a certain vehicle. "Oh wow!" He exclaimed, almost drooling at the sight. I crossed my arms, rolling my eyes as I wandered after him.

His eyes sparkled as he took in the coating of red paint on this one car. His jaw hung open and he crouched by the bonnet, spreading his arms across the material. "Nice, isn't it?" He asked, not even looking up at me. I exhaled, scanning my surroundings. "Yeah, lots of old cars. Cool." I said, sarcasm dripping from my tongue.

He raised his head this time, an expression of disbelief across his face. "They're not old. They're classic." He stated with a huff. Turning back to the car and giving it a reassuring rub. I pulled a face of disgust, almost gagging at the sight. "No one cares.." I mumbled, averting my gaze before things became weirder. I was smart with that decision. "Wait, are you kidding me?" Tatta's voice trailed off and I squeezed my eyes shut. Trying my hardest not to give in to curiosity.

"Holy shit!" He laughed, breathing out as his footsteps signified he had ran off. I groaned, opening my eyes and facing the childish boy. I walked toward him, pulling my mouth together into a tight-lipped smile. "Just look at her curves. Oh!" He gasped. At this point you could say he was genuinely drooling. I watched, taken aback, and mouth open as his hands travelled around the car. He was practically molesting it. "Dude, don't be weird." I cringed. "It's just a car."

Tatta inhaled. His fingers still running over the material. His hands tracing the outline of the cars curves. As he put it..

"Whoa." He exhaled in awe. "Have you ever seen something this hot?"

The question caused me to raise my brows. "That's gross." I stated, loud and clear. "Are you attracted to cars or something? You know that's not normal." I spoke, walking to the other side and placing myself gently on the edge of the car. "Careful!" He ignored my question, wincing as I leant against the vehicle. He raised his gaze and I glared in return.

"Sorry. I just like cars." He said, standing straight and brushing the bonnet with his palm. "Aren't you interested in something?" He questioned. Finally giving me attention. I paused, hesitating at his question. My eyes took a tour down his body. I hoped the darkness would cover the action, and shield the red decoration on my cheeks. "Not really." I lied.

"Ah, so it's hard to understand." He nodded and I averted my gaze. Looking down the room, at the long rows of unattended cars. "Understand what?" I whispered. "How hot these cars are."

I scoffed, dropping my head as a smile stretched against my lips. He smiled back, proud he could make me laugh. "I think you're the only weirdo who thinks cars are hot." His face dropped. "Hey!" He exclaimed, offended.

"What?" I smirked. "It's true."

"Not." He reiterated.

I bit into my lip, just softly, and shook my head. I rose myself away from the object. "We taking this one then?"

Tatta's mouth parted. I expected words to fall out but instead my ears were met with the harsh sound of bullets. They ricocheted against the cars and smashed through glass.

Tatta's eyes widened. I gave him a look and he returned it - having the same thought as me. "The King of Spades.." I whispered. He nodded, just as another set of bullets rung through the park. Echoing down the narrow tunnel. I lunged toward the car, panic and adrenaline spurring on my movements. I threw open the door and climbed into the back seats. Tatta followed me, softly shutting the door behind us. A bullet hit the glass of the passenger seat. Shattering the material and causing it to burst across the seat and floor of the car. I suppressed a whimper as I jumped. My body was shaking at this point, and having Tatta above me was not helping. I lay on my back, and as footsteps drew closer, Tatta lowered himself down. His chest was against mine, heaving with the sudden energy. He twisted his head and noticed something through the windshield. Perhaps the King himself. He raised his hand and pressed it against my mouth. Holding it there as I stared up with wide eyes. His face was still turned, keeping an eye on our enemy. The only things in view were his jaw line and his side profile.

He was pretty from this angle. The thought resulted in my chest tightening. A familiar feeling in my lower stomach, that if Tatta wasn't the one above me, I would have passed off as having his body flat against it.

We remained in that position for a while. Waiting for the King to move on. He took his time. It was only until we saw his shadow wash against the window, and hear his boots take him to the exit did we stop tensing our limbs. Tatta relaxed against me, letting out a sigh of relief. His hot breath fanned out onto my neck. I shivered. "Sorry.." He mumbled. Removing his soft hand from my face. My chest rose and fell harshly, as I caught back my breath.

My eyes met his, just above mine. Instead of being wide. Filled with embarrassment or fear. They were half-lidded. An emotion swirled within them. Something I couldn't quite pinpoint. I swallowed dryly. I couldn't remove my gaze from his. Not until he moved his head and averted his attention. "We should get out." I whispered. "The others are probably waiting. He nodded. "Yeah, let's take this hottie for a ride."

I blushed, pushing my palm against his shoulder. "Stop Tatta!" I warned. He simply grinned, chuckling at my flustered expression. I attempted at sitting up but his laugh ceased as I felt my knee move to an unwanted place. "Ah, shit Y/n!"

"Sorry!" I exclaimed. Trying not to laugh. "You could do it again if you wanted though.." Tatta mumbled. I widened my eyes and pushed him again. Jokingly of course. "Don't be dirty. I'm not a car."

He smiled. "I'm just as interested in you as I am in cars." His face then dropped, as if he had just realised what he had said. His eyes widened and his lips parted. If it wasn't so dark I was sure I'd be able to watch his face morph into a tomato.

My lips twitched into a smile, which then formed a smirk. "I-" Tatta started, his voice a simple mixture of pauses and stutters. I stopped him from talking. Raising my head just that little bit more and colliding my lips with his. He gasped but melted into the action. He placed his forearms either side of my head and pressed his lips against mine. It was passionate. Heated. We slipped our tongues into each other's mouths as if we hadn't almost came across death. His hips pushed against mine, attempting to create friction, as I rose and bucked up into his pelvis. Grinding against his hard cock as if it was the day I die.

He whimpered into my mouth. His tongue clashing with mine. Messily dancing around each other. I moaned and took my arms. Pulling off his cap and throwing it onto the passenger seat before placing my palms against his back. He paused, pulling away and breaking the string of saliva that had connected us. He sat up, chest heaving as he looked down at my figure. "Are we...really going to do this?" He asked. The embarrassment now catching up. "Do what?" I teased. "Uh."

"Fuck?" I finished off, raising my body so I was close to him once more. I brushed his hair from his face, placing it behind his ear as I leant forward and whispered. "If you want to." I heard his breath hitch and I smirked against his earlobe. "I don't mind fucking a guy that's attracted to cars."

He frowned before smiling. A smile filled to the brim with mischief. I noticed this and placed my hand near the rim of his shirt, tugging on the fabric. He understood my action and raised his arms, pulling off his shirt before giving my clothed body a once over. I smirked, pulling against my own clothes until I was naked. He gawked at me, eyes wide as always. I was proud to say he seemed to be drooling over me more than he was when looking at this car.

He leant forward and I met him once more in a heated make out session. My body fell back against the leather of the car, and his followed. His skin pressing against my bare skin. His forearm returned to the side of my head as his other slipped down between his legs. He pushed down his swim shorts and removed his dick. I couldn't quite see. Darkness still dazed my vision, but I could feel it. His tip poking at my entrance, spreading me open as his length was soon filling me up. He pushed himself into me, making sure to be gentle. My palms found themselves on his back again. My fingers pressing into his flesh as he began thrusting into me.

The car soon became hot. The windows steamed up and the condensation dripped down onto the doors. I moaned out, throwing my head back against the seat. "Tatta!" I cried, and the boy bit into his lip. You wouldn't think we had almost just died. The fear and panic morphed into a lust that showed through the way my nails scraped down his back. Through the way my bent legs brushed against his thighs in every thrust. How he rutted into me like an animal. His balls slapping my ass with every movement.

I could feel that knot in my stomach return. I could feel it about to break as Tatta's dick filled me with every rut of his hips. I tensed at the sudden feeling. Just as his tip had started consistently hitting my g-spot. He whimpered and dropped his head into the crook of my neck. "Y/n!" He whined. Pushing harder, but sloppier. I moaned his name. Almost screaming it as my walls clenched around his throbbing dick. I could feel as he twitched one last time. "Please let me cum in you.." He pleaded. His voice whiny against the skin of my neck. His hair brushed against my cheeks. Moving across my face at the same rhythm he thrusted. "Y/n please let me cum in you!" He repeated but louder. "Do it." I strained, struggling against the string of moans I had been letting escape.

He grunted, thrusting two more times before crying out. Raising his head from my shoulder. I watched as his face turned into one of immense pleasure. His eyes shut and his mouth dropped open. Letting out more grunts as he came inside of me. I felt his warmth spread beneath my lower stomach, filling me up just as much as his dick did.

As soon as he came down from his high his head dropped onto my shoulder once more. "Shit.." He mumbled against the skin.

"Shit." I repeated. Breathing out. "The others are definitely waiting for us now.."

[kiatheinsomniac]

OH! I just thought of smth for the Mary/James nsfw cuz im an idiot and was nervous 🤦 But VOICE KINK. I like their voice and it's really nice and smooth and hhnnngnf ♡ again sorry. I'm not great at sending asks

──── 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: "Hello! This is for proof i'm not a minor ^^` Just wanted to request anonymously if that's ok. I requested the nsfw James Kidd/Mary Read x fem reader. I can't really think of a plot but maybe one of them being reckless and it leads to a heated moment or just taking care of Mary because she deserves it 👉👈 Thank you! Hope This clears up any inconveniences" –anon 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: James Kidd | Mary Read x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 0.7k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, smut, fingering, slight humiliation, alludes to overstimulation

“You can keep it down, can’t you? Maybe this will teach you a thing or two about stealth and not compromising the mission.” Your hand is clamped down over your mouth while your legs shake and twitch.

Your muffled moans sound much louder to your ears, especially when paired with the squelches of Mary’s middle and ring fingers pistoning in and out of your sticky pussy. Mary’s voice, smooth but rough like a sweet liquor that burns on the way down, does nothing to encourage silence even despite her words. You love her voice and she knows it, knows it’ll have you whimpering and mewling so long as she says the right things. 

All you can do is nod your head as you keep your trembling legs spread, the inside of your thigh dragging against her side where she’s settled herself between your legs. She has your other leg up and pinned to your chest with a hand pushing down on the back of your knee in order to keep you spread open and give her a good view of her fingers sinking into the warmth of your hole and then withdrawing over and over and over. Your palm grows damp with your breath against your mouth and so you remove it in favour of pulling Mary down onto you so that you can instead mute your sounds by burying your face in her neck. You feel a slight shiver stream through her limbs when your lips wrap around the tender flesh beneath her ear and you suck down, teeth grazing against her skin and undoubtedly leaving a little pink mark that will evolve into a bruise later. 

You feel her fingers curl up to press down on that spongy spot within you, dragging her fingers over it each time. In the face of such pleasure, you begin to shuffle away from her body looming over yours, from her fingers that punish you for having been detected by that Spanish guard who then rang the alarm bell, destroying any chance of your mission being completed without conflict. You knew that to cum would be to be reprimanded by her as though you were naught but a disobedient and incompetent child. And yet it’s that level of humiliation that has you surging towards the edge even faster. 

“Oh no you don’t. Where do you think you’re going, lass?” Your breath hitches when Mary’s hand leaves the back of your knee so that her arm can hook under the curve of your arched spine and lift the upper half of your body up off the thin mattress in order to press your breasts against her bound chest. You hear her hiss as you bite down on the collar of her shirt, catching some of her skin too in your dazy clumsiness as all you can really focus on is the warmth of her body pressed to yours, the stroke of her fingers against your g-spot and her scent of sea salt and some spice you can’t quite put a name to. 

She smiles at your muffled cry when she feels your walls clamp down tightly on her fingers, practically sucking them in, when you orgasm. Mary can feel your thigh pressing strongly against her side as you try to close your legs but her body blocks you, your other leg still folded up and pinned to your chest between your bodies where she’s hoisted you up and is holding you against her. She’s filled with pride at how you tremble and spasm in her hold, a smug grin tugging at her lips that would usually be tinted red by lipstick when she’s let her hair down like this but instead are reddened and slightly swollen from the aggressive kisses she had set upon you when you were first roughly pinned down to the bed following your failed mission. 

Your body becomes a limp weight in her arms and you let your head loll back while you weakly try to loop your arms around her neck and hold your body against her again. You have to bite down on your kiss-swollen bottom lip when you feel her thumb gently trace little stars into your puffy clit again, your body so overly sensitive and feeling lit on fire between your quivering thighs. 

“W-what…?” You look up at her with glimmering, half-dazed eyes, still up high from your orgasm.

“You can handle a bit more pressure, can’t you, lass?” Mary has a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips that is so signature to James Kidd when he’s out in the world and boasting about as men do. 

And so your punishment continues… 

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ��� buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@writing-noah @firagirl @loopycorn1123

[forever-third-wheeling]

Every Change I Remember from the West End version of Mean Girls the Musical

I went to see it yesterday and was honestly very disappointed at the sheer amount of changes so here are all the ones i noticed:

(i haven’t watched a bootleg of the broadway version in a while so sorry if some of these aren’t actually changes at all!)

It Roars is completely different with only a few lines following the same rhythm as the original

Cady’s father has been completely removed as a character just like in the movie musical

The part of It Roars where the other students ignore and are rude to Cady has been replaced by a dance number.

The ending line ‘welcome to Northshore High’ is at first replaced by someone pushing Cady over and saying ‘bitch move’. It then takes place after.

Cady goes to class immediately after It Roars. The classes are almost identical to those in the movie musical, including Cady needing to pick a french name in french class and not knowing a bathroom pass is required in Coach Carr’s sex ed

Cady meets Aaron in class before befriending Janis, Damien or the plastics. She doesn’t sing stupid with love here. Instead there are several gags about how attracted to Aaron she is, including her answering a maths problem with ‘sex’ instead of ‘six’, and hitting her ‘pubic bone’ on the desk. We then transition into It Roars (reprise), which is again unrecognisable.

There are lots of lyric changes in Where Do You Belong, including the rich stoners and gangster whites being replaced by the young marxists and wealthy preps

Part of the end of Where Do You Belong has been cut off. They no longer sing ‘hey Cady this is where you fit’ etc., and the tap dancing at the end has also been removed.

There are a few lyric changes in Meet the Plastics. ‘I never weigh more than 115’ has been replaced by the line about filters from the movie musical. Gretchen’s lines have also been changed. She sings about staying in favour with Regina and her lines about worker bees and being a Jewish Princess have been replaced by some sort of chess reference.

Karen does not start her verse facing the wrong way

The entire overlapping section in Meet the Plastics has been cut.

lots of lines from the movie musical are used, such as Karen’s life goal of not touching a tiger, and Regina telling Jason ‘can you hear me now?’

overall Regina’s character seems more similar to the movie musical portrayal than the original movie or the original musical, with slightly more aggression than fake kindness and aloofness

The lyrics of Apex Predator are unchanged but there are a lot of dialogue breaks that interrupt the flow of the song somewhat. What’s Wrong With Me also seems unchanged

Stupid With Love takes place now. It is a duet between Cady and Aaron. Some of the lyrics are the same as the original Stupid With Love Reprise but the rhythm changes slightly towards the end, specifically after Aaron says he’s swearing off dating.

Cady pretending not to know the answer when Aaron questions her is massively drawn attention to. Janis comes onstage breaking the fourth wall to emphasise to the audience that ‘Cady just acted dumb to get a boy to like her’, in a way that I felt spoonfed us unnecessarily.

The calculust line is much more understated. set to a completely different tune, and immediately followed by ‘that’s not even a word’

The October Third reference is emphasised so much it loses its comedic value. It is not set to music. Cady flounders for ages while Janis and Damien break the fourth wall to tell her that even the audience knows the answer, before she finally gets it out

Sexy was almost exactly the same except for Rosa Parks being replaced by Joan of Arc, and the dance break being cut completely

Regina is wearing a different costume for the halloween party

Janis’s backstory from the movie musical is used.

The dialogue in Revenge Party is stilted, constantly switching between Janis and Damien singing and Cady interacting with the plastics. the part where Cady is giving Regina the kalteen bars is particularly hard to follow, especially for such a crucial plot point

Gretchen’s outburst at Cady’s candy cane gram is very different. The way she tells her about Regina cheating on Aaron is phrased in a drawn out way that kills much of the comedy. The lion costume doesn’t come out during the chorus of revenge party, but instead has its own moment where the music is understated and there are few people on stage other than Aaron. it comes off more awkward and uncomfortable than funny

Revenge Party extends all the way to the end of act one, replacing Fearless and the first Someone Gets Hurt reprise. They change a lot of lyrics, with the end of the song saying ‘a party with revenge is really great’

A Cautionary Tale (Reprise) and Stop are both cut. The act two opener is I’m Blowing Up which i’ve heard is the same as a song called Bossed Up from the dc version of the musical.

What’s Wrong with Me (Reprise) is the same.

Who’s House is This is very similar to the original but is shortened so Kevin does not repeat his lines at the end.

In More Is Always Better after Aaron compares Cady to Regina he immediately sings 'you say more is always better…’ skipping over the lines in between.

Someone Gets Hurt (Reprise), World Burn and I’d Rather be me are unchanged

Do This Thing is cut. It is replaced by a Stupid With Love Reprise. The line tends to be ‘i was stupid’, with a gap where ‘with love’ would previously have been. It is sung by Karen while getting ready for Spring Fling, and then by the mathletes.

I See Stars has a few minor lyric changes. Cady calls Gretchen ‘fetch’ and Karen ‘rare’. ‘we’d say what we are, say what you are’ has been replaced by ‘we’d light up the sky, you and i’

and that’s all i can remember! not all of these changes were bad but i felt it was entirely unnecessary to update a musical from 2018 to this degree. it’s pretty upsetting to wait six years for a show to come to your country only for most of your favourite songs to be completely unrecognisable for no discernible reason. if you like these changes though i’m super happy for you! it’s still a super fun show and i’m sure if you go into it with less knowledge of the original soundtrack than me it’s much more enjoyable

[auroragehenna]

Commision writing chp. 2

CW/TW: Angry whumper, smartass whumpee, stabbing, threats of further torture, torture, implied fantasy racism, charming, DND whump Word count:

Fae woke up leaning against something hard, like stone. And it didn't really feel like waking up more like...Finally breaking through a wall of cotton. Warm...Fluffy cotton...No! Focus! What was going on? Part of her seemed to yell that she didn't want to know but she still pushed through.

Zestia who was sitting opposite her bound captive grinned while she observed the others feeble struggles. Part of the elf wanted to wake up wheras the other part wanted to stay enthralled. „Maybe I should just keep you like this.“, she pondered, „all humiliated and docile. Only problem is you’re also disgustingly happy like this. And that’s…-she reached out with a small dagger-is not why you’re here!”-she stabbed the dagger into the elf’s leg and removing her control over her completely.“

Fae screamed as the dagger was plunged into her leg, waking brutually from the blissfull daze. Her eyes had to adjust to the dim flickering light of a campfire until they finally settled on her attacker.

“Well good morning there. Did you have a relaxing little nap?”, Zestia asked condecendlingly.

“How did you do that? How did you charm me?”

Zestia smirked. “Don’t worry your little head about it, you won’t be alive for long enough to worry about it.” With that Zestia grabbed the knife and tore it carelessly out of Fae’s leg.

Fae didn’t make an effort to catch the scream that ripped out of her throat, her attacker seemed like someone that wanted to hear her scream. That could only be in her favour. She had to get out of here. But then her thought process got interrupted as the knife caught her gaze, glistering in the light from the fire. It was fucking serrated! Against better judgment her eyes snapped down onto her leg to see how the wound looked. It was a bloody mess, shreds of skin adorning the edge of the stab. Satisfying. But painful. Zestia’s eyes narrowed when Fae’s eyes left her to inspect the knife and the wound on her leg. She didn’t even look that horrified. She picked up the blade and used it to tilt Fae’s head up, making the elf’s gaze meet hers. “Eyes on me, Tree rat!”, she ordered.

Fae tried to make a gesture of surrender with her tied up hands, shoulders rising slightly. “Okay, okay.” Silently she registered the slur. It suggested that her attacker had something against elves. But only elves or was she generally racist? Probably not the smartest plan to try to figure it out unless she wanted to provoke her again. Though it hardly seems to matter.

“What are you thinking about, hm?”, Zestia asked, placing her hand on the stab wound on Fae’s thigh and pressing in while leaning in on her.

“Just death.”

Oh, don’t worry by the end you won’t fear it anymore.”, Zestia said, smiling knowingly.

“I don’t fear dying.”

“Excellent.”, Zestia says joyfully and sits back, relieving pain on her victim’s leg but not without letting her fingers dig through the wound, magically slowing the blood flow it so Fae wouldn’t bleed before she wanted her to. She cupped Fae’s cheek for a moment before slipping further back and grabbing her hair. Using the grip to smash the elf’s head into the cave wall behind her. And while she was dizzy she held her dagger into the fireplace and waited.

Fae was disoriented. To say the least. Her vision was spinning and she couldn’t make sense of it until there was something burning hot resting against her ear. Harshly she forced herself to focus, willing the different images to unify.

“Now, tell me something, Fae. Are you travelling alone or were you waiting for someone, or rather meeting somebody?”

Fae felt the burning pressure of what she could only assume was another blade increasing on her ear ever so slowly. Burning her skin and stinging. Still she tried to steel her nerves. Okay this was fine. Think. Lie. “I am travelling alone, I used to be part of a group for a few adventures but we went our separate ways.”, she tried.

Zestia looked at her victim for a moment longer before her gaze moved to the elf’s pointed ear where she was now placing the heated blade at the top of the ear shell. And pushed down, agonizingly slowly. “Remember, you can make this stop at any moment, just tell me what I want to know.”

Fae cried out as the hot-sharp metal was pushed into the top of her ear, the cry drying out to a choked rasp and then to a composed groan. But she held out.

“No?”, Zestia asked for a moment slowing her blade. “Nothing?”

“I already told you; I am alone, I promise.”

“Hmm.”, Zestia just commented and with a final push tore the blade through the ear shell. Pleased with herself she saw that the wound was already pretty cauterized. She wouldn’t need to use magic on that. She held the blade into the flames again for a bit.

Fae heard a disgusting sound of something soft falling before the pain and realization hit her brain. She had cut off a slice of her ear!! A slice of her ear!!

“Zestia drank in the shock and desperation and pain of her victim, letting her sit with the realization for a bit before she set the blade down again only a few centimetres after the slice from before.

Fae’s eyes widened. She only heard the blood rushing in her ears which might as well be since her ear was now bleeding. Or was it burning? She couldn’t tell. It was just pain. It distressed her enormously that she couldn’t see what was happening. All she could do was sit there tied up and stare forward. When she tried to turn her head her attacker would roughly turn it back.

“Now let’s try this again.”, Zestia said and started pushing down again.

“I already told you, please! Please, don’t do this! Please, I swear!”

“And yet somehow I don’t believe you.”, Zestia retorted coldly. Blade now already halfway through the ear again, leaving it red and burned.

“Please, please just stop!”

“You know how to make this stop.”

“Please! Please, okay! I’ll tell you just please stop!” Zestia gave one final push and another piece of the once pointed ear fell down, landing next to the other in the dirt of the cave floor. “Now then? Spill it.”

Fae was crying by now, hot tears ran down her cheeks, sickening as they felt just like the warm blood that she felt like was running down her mutilated ear. Her ear…She was grabbed by the chin and forced to make eye contact with her attacker. Answer me! She demanded. “I was going to meet somebody…A friend. But they’re not an elf!”, she tried, “They’re a good way away from here. They won’t search for me, I promise!”

Zestia grinned. “No, of course they wouldn’t. Who would, hmm?” She let go of Fae’s chin and grabbed the little dagger again, raising it towards the elf’s head.

“Wait-Wait-Wait! What are you doing, you said you would stop! You said-!”

“I lied.”

And with those words the other started to slice into her ear again. At that point Fae lost sense of time, the pain was so overwhelming. She only knew that at some point she had run out of tears to cry. After what felt like forever her torturer finally lowered the dagger again. Fae wanted to feel relief, she wanted to just fall unconscious, but a hard slap connected with her cheek and sent her head flying to the right. When her eyes focused, she looked right at the bloody blade of the dagger that has just cut her whole ear off, piece. By. Piece. She followed it as it spun slowly and then forced her eyes to trail up until-Oh no. “No, no, no, no, no, please! Please I am begging you, please no! No. I’ll do anything.”, she begged, hoping that after all this, something might sway the whims of her torturer but nothing seemed to help.

Zestia held up the dagger and carefully angled the, from heat nearly glowing blade at the tip of the other pointed ear. With a cold satisfaction she reveled in the girl’s begging. She begged really beautifully, and this time, she could tell, she meant it. “If you would do anything, then suffer, suffer beautifully and give me peace.”, she murmured, sure the elf couldn’t hear her over her own fear and pain. After a few pieces Zestia stopped. The elf had been awfelly non-reactive in the last minutes. She put the dagger down and walked outside with a flask, shortly after returning with the now uncapped flask in hand. When she stood in front of the dazed elf she turned the flask upside down.

Fae was, against her will, brought back from her semi-concious state when ice cold water got dumped over her head. Her mind only slowly grasping the chain of events that had unfolded.

The cold water felt like pure heaven on her burned, mutilated ears. But she vaguely knew that she shouldn’t be happy about the water.

Zestia inspected her victim before rolling her eyes and crouching down on her level again. Slowly she stretched her hand again and held the cold flask against the burned edges of the girl’s red ear. A relieved groan escaped the elf’s throat before she could stop it. Zestia searched her gaze and held on to it. Slowly using her charm spell to wind into the others dazed brain. Sneaking through the fog and eventually settling in the centre of the elfs consciousness. There she pulled and tugged until she saw the lights slowly come back in her victim’s eyes, the faint squirms becoming less sluggish. She sat back on her hunkers. “How gracious of you to join me again.”

Fae started at her, face neutral. Everything was pain. She is pain. More than she had ever experienced. And whatever she said didn’t seem to matter. Provoke her? Pain. Cower and beg? Pain. No response? She messed with her mind. A shiver ran through her. She didn’t seem to be able to shake the feeling her attackers spell left in her. This foreign force sneaking itself into her mind and forcing whatever she wanted on her. Panic? Not anymore. Now it felt like there was a hook keeping her mind from drifting off, even her brain was restrained!! She had to keep herself from hyperventilating. And it wasn’t just “tough it out and then it’s over” the woman wanted to kill her! She would never see…Oh god no, she couldn’t do that to them…-Oh shit, the knife is in the fire again!

Zestia’s grin grew again, delighting in the way the elf’s eyes snapped to the dagger she was holding into the fire again.

„Aww, did you think you were done?“, Zestia taunted. „No, no, no. You‘re far from done, tree rat.“ With those words Zestia pulled out the dagger and slahed it over the previous stab wound.

Fae screamed out in pain, tears springing into her eyes again, making her vision hazy. Her attacker left her no time to breathe, delivering more cuts over her legs, arms and face. It burned and somebody was screaming. Must be her.

Zestia was pondering, using the dagger to tilt her victims chin up. Turning it from side to side slightly, eying it, trying to decide what to do.

Fae‘s screams had died out to mindless grunts. The pain and smell of her own burned flesh making her gag.

„Hmm, I‘m running out of space here. I think it‘s time for a new canvas, don‘t you think?“ She grins in sadistic delight.

“What? You’re gonna heal me?”, Fae asks, trying to keep up an unfazed mask.

“Naww, trying to act brave? Cute. Shouldn’t you know better than to lie to me by now?”

Fae just stares at her.

“Don’t try to hide your fear from me. You don’t get to do that, you understand?”

The elf glares at her but eventually shrinks together.

“Good. But you’re actually lucky, vermin.” Her grin widens, more resembling a baring of teeth. “I have gotten quite tired from this so let’s get you settled in and ready for the night shall we.”

“Stay the hell away from me!”, Fae cried out in fear.

“No. I won’t.”, Zestia replied. Moving closer and to the tied-up girl and starting to fidget with the ropes. After securing those with a magical lock she pulled out a rag and shoved it into the elf’s throat before tying the ends of it too tightly around her head. “There you go.”, she finally said and backed away from her victim. “Have a good rest, I will finish you off tomorrow…”, she laughs and trails a finger from the elf’s cheek down her jaw and throat before starting to settle for the night.

Fae tried to get out as best as she could while the other was re-restraining her but it was pointless. Everything seemed pointless! She couldn’t manipulate her when everything she said or did only fuelled the fire! She couldn’t get out; nobody knew where she was and apparently this woman could decide by will how soon or late her death would come! She didn’t know what to do and it fucking terrified her. How much longer did she have? She wish she could also get some sleep, she was fucking exhausted, but her whole body burned, throbbed, bit or in some way expressed pain. And the fear was releasing too much adrenaline. There had to be a way, some way-Maybe, maybe she could make herself useful to the other. In some way. Evade immediate death and wait until she found a way out. Yes. That was her only option left. This had to work. Somehow. Otherwise…What even did Zestia mean with a blank canvas? Okay no, that just meant that she would heal her, come on Fae, think logical. Think logical…

Taglist: @yourlocalgaefae33 (, @princessofhe11, @bisexuawolfsalt)

[umbralsound-xiv]

With my new home now finished and settled, i had invited Sayuri to visit me, should she have wished. She was always welcome, of course. But since i am often around the company, there has never been so much reason to take the walk.

Along the river in the depths of the East Shroud, follow the sound of shrill birdcalls, until only willow trees remain. Find the fallen tree, and walk straight in the direction it fell.

...And finally... One should come across a small home, taken by the Shroud, and blanketed in willows.

I awaited her arrival.

Having finally glimpsed the house between the willow trees, Sayuri heaves a small sigh of relief - she hadn’t gotten lost, afterall. Despite having done her utmost to follow the cryptic instructions Bexy had given her, she had begun doubting her path - until now. She stepped up to the house and raised her hand as she reached the door, settling a series of gentle yet firm knocks against the wood.

A gentle clattering of cutlery sounds from within, as Bexy abandons her effort of cleaning in favour of the door. She -had- expected a guest, after all... But she could never be too cautious. The door is opened, and the familiar face is greeted with a smile. "Sayuri, it is good to see you! You have been well, i trust?" She welcomes her in, to allow the door to close behind the both of them. "...I trust my instructions were not... Too difficult to follow?"

Sayuri Aoki greeted Bexy with a smile, stepping through the doorway to let the door be shut behind her. “It’s good to see you too, Bexy. I have, how about you?” Her gaze wanders the room she has entered, curiously eyeing her surroundings. “.. Admittedly, I was -certain- I was lost.” She uttered her admission with a slightly pained smile, her gaze returning to Bexy. “.. Your home is very cosy.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Well enough. A few quiet suns to myself have been what i needed, but it's never so much that i'm not happy for your company." Her own gaze follows that of Sayuri's, regarding her home with a warm smile. "...It's a little Shroud-laden, but it's simply the way of it. I wager these roots hold many of the walls together now. No sense trying to remove them... So long as they do not completely take over." She hums a small note of amusement, head returning back to Sayuri's direction.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Worry not. If you'd have truly gotten lost, one of Clan Karahli would have surely found you. You're at least known to them."

Sayuri Aoki: "Sometimes.. solitude and silence is needed. Other times.. not." The briefest of grimaces rested upon Sayuri's features at her own sentence, her lips soon enough returning into the soft curl of a smile. "It has it's own charm, it adds to it I'd say." Her gaze wanders the room a little further, a faint chuckle leaving her. ".. Considering I train with their Warmaiden and.. apprentice Warmaiden, as well as having encountered their Matriarch a few times.. and had injuries tended to by her, I do hope they know me, at least a little bit!"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "In your case, i would wager not. You have always dealt best with company, even just for one other person. Mine... Varies." Another quiet hum, as she attends the stove. "Something to drink? I know it's a fair walk. I've tea, juice... Or any number of alcoholic spirits." She grins over her shoulder. "...And suppose you do. Just a little. Hopefully Zhav isn't too intolerable to train with!" Bexy laughs, shaking her head.

Sayuri Aoki: “.. It is rare, for me to seek complete solitude.. but it does happen. The preference is to have someone near, preferably someone I am close with.. like yourself, or Eir. Prolonged times alone however.. serves as reminders of less pleasant things.” Her words were spoken a little bitterly towards the end, a long sigh being exhaled through her nose in the process. “Juice would be nice, please.” Sayuri straightened her back a touch, a small smirk creeping onto her lips. “Zhav is very... outspoken, with her opinions. About many things. I only need to hear about them when I’m training with them, Zihre gets that as a constant.. And while she doesn’t complain, various things Zhav say will make her make expressions.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Oh, believe me, i've heard." Bexy herself makes one of the many expressions Sayuri was likely familiar with, moving to retrieve two glasses and a cloudy red juice. "...She's a good woman, though. A good friend. I wager she might visit me here more often, if it wasn't for her penchant for getting lost." Her words are chuckled as the juice that could only be from rolanberries, considering who had selected it, was poured and offered to Sayuri.

Sayuri Aoki‘s smirk widened at the expression, stifling a chuckle - poorly. “Knowing they helped look for us when we had been taken.. I don’t doubt that she’s a good person. She’s a good mentor, too, in my experience and as far as I can see in her treatment of Zihre.” Her features softened, hands extending to accept the offered glass. “Thank you.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I've not sparred with her, no matter how much she's offered." She takes a sip of her drink with a small pause. "She's served as Warmaiden long enough. She was barely a teenager when she took the role, i believe. I've spent some considerable time with the Karahli... And still, there is always some new tradition i have never heard of, every time i seem to go." Her head tilts for a moment. "...We can go further into the house, should you wish? There's plenty of places to sit."

The thought of sparring with Zhav horrifies me, in truth. I’ve never been much for sparring anyway, it’s... Difficult to hold back, when it’s significantly easier to tear someone to ribbons with my ice, and i’d never wish it on a friend.

...And part of me thinks she’d enjoy it far more than she should.

Sayuri Aoki: “.. Well. I suppose Keepers learn early how to survive the wilds, maybe taking the role that young shouldn’t be so surprising..” She lofted a brow in thought, before offering a small shrug. “.. Then again, I suppose so must Seekers.. Granted they live the tribal life.” The glass is lift to her lips, a sip being taken before she nods to Bexy. “Let’s.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "A Tribal life the both of us have lived quite happily without. I have my home. My family." She turns a smile over her shoulder as she departs for the stairs. "I was a teen when i left home. My only regret was not leaving sooner. Travelling was... I found some peace in it. But settling down to somewhere more permanent has a different sort of comfort..."

Sayuri Aoki: "A tribal life I never got to experience properly." She gave a small shrug. ".. The mother of my half-sister took us out hunting once, but I was not old enough to contribute anything. I think she merely wished to give me a break from X'aoki." Sayuri's ears twitch and pin backwards temporarily as she bitterly utters her father's name, a small shake of her head following. ".. I was four, when he.. gave me away."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...And young, still, when your life began proper in Doma." Bexy turns to briefly set a hand on Sayuri's shoulder as comfort. "...I was often asked to hunt my by Mother. I so desperately wanted to win her approval... And it took me longer than i would have liked it to, to learn that i never could. But it matters not. Not anymore." Her words are not spoken so bitterly, as much as they are a matter of fact. She ascends the staircase, to perch on one of the seats, setting down her glass. "We have both found places to belong and people to love us. Far more than the people and places we hailed from ever could."

It hurt, somewhat, to hear her speak of it so openly. To think someone could do such a thing, and yet... I am familiar enough with the cruelty of the world.

...But we’re happier people, now.

It doesn’t hurt me to talk about my childhood anymore. Not with her. I’m not at peace with it, but... I accept it. It taught me the value of people who truly care.

...Perhaps that’s why i hold onto them so tightly.

Sayuri Aoki: "..A child, still.. Yet older. My time locked away.. completely destroyed my concept of time." She met Bexy's gesture with a weak, appreciation in her gaze at the offered comfort. "I.. know how it feels. I pined for X'aoki's affection, and he never gave it. I gave up when he destroyed the one thing I had from him that was given before his hatred of me." Another sigh follows, before her glass was raised to her lips for another sip of her juice. ".. If I was suddenly given the option for him to love me, I wouldn’t take it. I received a family in Doma that loved me, despite how set back I was - despite my aether being the way it was.. And now I have this family. Our family. It means more to me than he ever could, or will.” A new smile graced her lips, as her gaze settled on Bexy once they had both been seated. “.. When I spoke of him to Eir, quite some time ago.. Eir pointed out that X’aoki failed me as a parent. That.. is not something I ever thought of before.” She admitted. “.. It was always me. I was the problem. To have Eir point at it differently.. and rather directly..” A small pause lingered. “.. I needed to hear it.”

Bexy Amalaryssia idly traces a gloved fingertip over the edge of her glass. "...Those are wise words. Words i perhaps needed to hear myself, when i was younger." Her gaze flicks up with a smile. "...But i think he's right. Not that i've any experience at parenthood, nor do i plan to." Bexy lingers in the moment as her expression softens. "...It's nice, isn't it? To not... Have to pine for it. To not have to strive to be loved. As natural as breathing."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. We were not at fault. We deserved the treatment we were given equally as much." Sayuri settles her glass atop the table and rests her hands upon the edge of the table itself. ".. That makes two of us." A small grimace was given, before her gaze settled atop of Bexy. ".. It is. Be it the love of a partner, a friend.. a sister.." Her lips curled upwards. ".. It's more than I ever hoped for in the past, and I will fight to keep it.. But not needing to fight for it to be present is.. a comfort."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...We deserved not an onze of it. But it taught us not to squander the love we are given. We don't -have- to fight for it, no. But we will, tooth and nail, if we must. We know what it is like to be without... But at least, we need never know it again, hm?" Her fingertips drum faintly on the edge of the table at the warm smile she gave.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "---You need never know it even less if he'd just bloody propose and ask you the question.”

Sayuri Aoki lifts a hand to cover her mouth, muffling her own laughter at Bexy's words. "Well, as we've decided! If he doesn't, after a specific amount of time.. I will do it myself!"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...I swear if he runs, i'll kneecap him." Her gaze lids, idly raising her drink with a smirk that curled her painted lips. It was... Difficult to tell if she was being serious, or otherwise. "In all my cycles, i have never known a man so flighty. Even from -nice- things!"

I can’t believe he tried to run when they first kissed. For what reason? Surely, such a thing was a nice, pleasant experience.

...But i don’t know him. Not well. Not through lack of trying, anyway. I’d expected him to be a disappointment. Someone who couldn’t handle people like... Us. People who have been so bitten and broken by our lives, that they see only the sharpened edges that cruelty leaves in it’s wake.

...But he surprised me, that one.

We spoke for a little while, regarding our plans. Pleasanter, lighter things, full of laughter. When i had seen the colours she had planned to wear, i knew i’d had a colour to suit for her nails should she have wished for it.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Just ensure he's got a pillow at his feet, for when his jaw hits the floor." She grins, a little too wide. "...The plan is falling into place. The outfit, the venue..." She rocks her head to the side in amusement, as she nudges the nail polish across the table. "...And, if you wanted to borrow this, you're more than welcome. Or i can paint your nails for you. An extra finishing touch, as it were."

Sayuri Aoki paused, her head tilting as she eyed Bexy, then peered down at her own nails to judge the surprisingly bare nails - usually under a coat of black, but left free currently. ".. I removed the one I had yestersun, as it was chipped and peeling.. I had considered repainting them before I came here, but now I'm happy I didn't." A chuckle left her, her hands leaving her lap and settling on the table. "I do think the red would match the outfit better.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...Agreed. It's the little things, no?" Her tail swats at the leg of the chair again as Bexy leans forwards. "...Is that an invite?" She glances to her nails, and back. "You can always borrow the colour for a while if it chips before the appointed time draws nigh..."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. It is." She smiles, scooting herself closer to the table. "..I just might take you up on that."

Bexy Amalaryssia reaches to her own gloves, pinching at the fingertip to draw them out from her hands and over her elbows, setting each one tidily on the edge of the table. Pale blue skin, a single scar, and the ever worn and never seen wedding ring settled on her fingers, as she drags the chair along the floor to sit a little closer to Sayuri. The nail varnish is opened, one of Bexy's hands taking the first of Sayuri's in her own. "...I never knew you took to painting them. It's habit for me now, i suppose. Same for the lipstick, and what little makeup i choose to wear."

Sayuri Aoki silently eyed the pale blue skin, yet offered no comment on it - it was hardly the first time she had seen it. She gently rests her hand in Bexy's, keeping it as still as she could. ".. No? They're usually black." She gave a small smile. ".. It's just something small, for myself more than anything."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...Sometimes those things are the most important." A coat of red is drawn carefully over one of her nails, careful to not paint too much or too little. "I wash my hair with rose scented shampoo. Wear perfume. Even if i will be alone the whole sun. It's for me. I understand the notion." She considers with a hum. "...Just as much as this is for you, as much as it's for him, hm?"

Sayuri Aoki bobbed her head in a slight nod, flashing a smile. ".. It's just nice, sometimes. Put in some extra effort, purely because you feel like it." Her gaze settled on her hand as Bexy painted her nails, smile widening a touch. ".. Indeed. The outfit may.. be a bit more for him than for myself, but.. It's because I want to, not because he has asked it of me.. Which makes all the difference in the world, for me."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...Because you want to. There's always something more meaningful about a gift readily given, no matter the form it takes, rather than something requested." She continues, dipping the brush back into the varnish for a moment. "...I'm... Glad, Sayuri. Glad you have found someone that does not ask things of you. Who makes you happy."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I just wish he would -believe- me..."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. As am I." Her tone carried a softness, gaze lidding and her smile remaining - her expression painting a picture of joy. ".. I will continue to try to convince him. I know he's making it hard to get along with when he's being so evasive.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "He's making it impossible! I can't even say 'hello' without him leaving the room, even if i'm just passing through to pick something up." She frowns, moving to the next digit. "And i -am- trying, and i -am- being nice." She glances up. "-Genuinely- nice. Not a little backhandedly, or with any ulterior motive."

Sayuri Aoki's smile turned a little pained, ears drooping. "..I know, I know."

Bexy Amalaryssia pouts. "Maybe you should leave me some of that ribbon, so i can tie him to a chair and have a bloody conversation with him. But i don't think that would help." Her pout turns into a huff, a small amused smile. "...Maybe i'm going about it the wrong way. Do you have any ideas?"

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I don't think the fault lies with you, Bexy. I think Eir is just.. not being receptive to it. And I will talk with him about it.. And be pouty with him if I have to." She pouted.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...You think he'll listen?" One coat finished, she allows the first hand to dry before picking up the second. "...Maybe i should let him find me, instead, rather than the other way around..."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. He will. Unless the only thing he wants to do when I dress up is to -look- at me." Her pout increased.

You burst out laughing at Sayuri Aoki.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Sayuri! That's blackmail, i believe!"

Sayuri Aoki: "Then he should behave, and befriend my sister!"

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Be civil, at the very least!"

You smirk confidently at Sayuri Aoki.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "---You're the best, you know this? And i promise i'll be polite. I'll even talk about things he likes." She considers, for a moment. "...What -does- he like? Aside you. And dancing... And fruit. Though i'm pretty sure we could have a fairly in depth conversation about rolanberries."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Reading."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Reading? For all his running about, he enjoys -reading-?" She lofts a brow, continuing with her task. "...I wouldn't have thought him to stay still for long enough."

Sayuri Aoki: "He reads -a lot-." She smiled. ".. He lamented being unable to, when he had lost his sight.. I got him some in braille, before we knew it'd be restored." She smiles. ".. He likes -romance- novels."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...Romance novels? I'd never have guessed..." Another lick of paint traced over her once-bare fingernails. "...I've read a fair few. Maybe even the same ones. Maybe i'll even ask him for a suggestion." She smiles at the idea, humming. "...Explains why he seems so romantic with you." She peers over to Sayuri, again. "---You really think he'd have proposed by now, though."

You make a straight face at Sayuri Aoki.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Hopefully it'll work as a point of conversation for you two." Her smile contorted in to a small pout. "... I -know-! But he hasn't!"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...Hopefully." Bexy tilts her head, to ensure she'd covered all she could before moving on. "...But he wants to. He will. I'm certain of it." Her lips curl into a smirk. "...Watching him curl around you the last we were in your room together told me everything. He's smitten with you!" Another dip of brush in paint. "Maybe if we get to the point of trading romance novels, i'll send him a few not so subtle nudges in the right direction, hm?"

You smirk confidently at Sayuri Aoki.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I hope he wants to." Her words were mumbled, a tiny blush taking to her cheeks while Bexy continues to paint her nails. ".. By giving him books all ending in a happy marriage with every single mentioning of marriage or a wedding circled?" She smirked.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Circled -and- underlined." She smirks. "And if that doesn't work, i'll tear them all out and put them into a big collage, scrunch it into a ball, and throw it at him." She chuckles, painting the final nail on her hand before leaving them to dry. "...That you love him enough to want to marry him tells me all. I'm sure he feels the same. Why wouldn't he?"

Sayuri Aoki bursts out laughing at you.

Sayuri Aoki: "Throw it at him? Really?" She snickered. "Not just.. place it directly in front of him?" She smiled widely for a moment, although it lost some of its sheen at her next words. She met the question with a small shrug.

I knew that little roll of her shoulders well. Doubt. Self worth. I would hear none of it.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "He can't ignore it if i throw it at him." She screws the lid back onto the varnish, checking her own painted nails for any chips and cracks before sliding the bottle in Sayuri's direction. "...Sayuri. Don't give me that. If he had decided anything otherwise he'd have already dissappointed us both. But he hasn't, has he? If he's home, he'll surely wait for you. If he's not, he'll return in time to be with you. You've endured the Locket, you've travelled together. He's seen all sides of you, i am sure. Anyone should be lucky and glad to marry you."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I mean.. Fair." She wiggled her freshly painted fingers, admiring the colour a touch. ".. Thank you, Bexy." She carefully grasps the bottle between two fingers, sliding it closer to herself before settling her hand back on the table to let her nails dry a little further before an accident is made by her moving her fingers too much. ".. He watched me kill a man." She paused. ".. If you can call the bastard one."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...He watched you kill a man. And he's still here all the same." She smiles at the gratitude, simply offering a small nod. "...Perhaps he's just... Waiting. Laurent proposed when we were in the East. Maybe he plans to take you somewhere, and propose there?"

Sayuri Aoki paused. ".. He.. did ask me if I wanted to go to Thavnair--.." Her gaze widens a little, stare locked wholly on Bexy.

Bexy Amalaryssia slowly widens her grin, tapping her fingertips. "---Then he's waiting! That must be his plan! It is a place of joy for him, yes?" Her excitement simmers for only a moment, even if it's genuine. "---Only a little jealous. I've never been!"

To think she will go to Thavnair before me! I hear only the tales of the island, and hear only good things. It is beautiful as it is bright, full of colour and culture.

...At least, from what i’ve heard.

I’ll go, one sun. I wager Sayuri’s stories of the island will only seek to spur me onwards for the adventure.

Sayuri Aoki's fingers curled faintly in anticipation, yet she swiftly forced them to uncurl and pressed them into the table. Her ears and tail both flicker with an undeniable excitement. ".. I've never been, either! I wanted to learn a little Hannish, before we went.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Have you managed to learn any?" Bexy tilts her head with a giddy grin. "How's for learning what 'I do' is in Hannish, for starters?"

You beam with delight at Sayuri Aoki.

Sayuri Aoki bursts out laughing at you.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Mh, not yet. I've been otherwise occupied." She gave a small pout. ".. Eir did learn a little Hingan, after our trip to Kugane.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Did he? Suppose it makes sense, visiting another country, you're bound to pick up a few words, hm? I know a few words of Doman and some words of the Steppe... But only enough to get me by in basic conversation..."

Sayuri Aoki beams at you.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I speak Eorzean, Hingan and Xaelic." She smiled. "..And hopefully, soon enough.. Hannish."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I can't imagine another language will be too difficult. Think of the things you could say when he least expects it..." Another devious grin washes over her lips, before she shakes her head and reaches for the remainder of her juice. "...It would be helpful for travel, too. Though i find Eorzean is spoken most anywhere, these suns."

Sayuri Aoki: "Hopefully not." She snickered. ".. I enjoy wandering areas where Miqo'te are not common and turning around and speaking their language when they have uttered something about me not so subtly that they think I don't understand."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...Their faces are more than worth it, i wager. A similar reason i enjoy taking walks with clothes that show a little skin in Ishgard. If not for the gasps of the nobility, for the people who look at me like a madwoman about to freeze to death."

Sayuri Aoki smirks confidently at you.

Sayuri Aoki: "I can always join you with that. We can be madwomen together."

You beam with delight at Sayuri Aoki.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "As though we weren't already, hm?"

Sayuri Aoki: ".. They don't know that!"

You burst out laughing at Sayuri Aoki.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "---No, no, i suppose not! ...Still. When does Eir plan to take you to Thavnair? Soon, i hope? Has he mentioned a date?" Her fingertips drum impatiently for an answer on the table.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Not anytime soon, I don't think." She pouted.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...That you know of." Bexy returns the pout. "---He's not just going to steal you away again, is he?"

Sayuri Aoki laughs at you.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Don't think so, no. But even if he does.. I will always come back."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I know! I know. But i'd at least like a little warning! You -were- missed the last you went away. But, at least i know to expect a celebration of some description upon your return this time, mm?"

Sayuri Aoki laughs at you.

Sayuri Aoki: "I missed you too, Bexy." She smiled. ".. Gods. The thought of actually -marrying-.. it's.. a little strange, but not unwanted.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "You'll have to write vows. Speak them aloud in a sanctum, if you marry there." She grins, giddy for the occasion. "...For all to see and hear." Her grin widens. "...And so will he."

Sayuri Aoki pouts...

You beam with delight at Sayuri Aoki.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I will be sappy in -private-."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "But what of your vows? It is a promise!" She nods. "A very public promise." Bexy leans forth to settle her head in her hands. "---It's the best part!"

Sayuri Aoki's pout increases!

Sayuri Aoki: "Nooo.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Why not? You love him, don't you? The world already knows. And if not, it should."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I do!" Sayuri sinks back in her seat, ears flickering back and forth while her head lowers - an undeniable embarrassment clinging to her features. ".. I'm not good at.. sharing feelings.. so publically.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...You'll be fine." She rocks her head. "...I can help you write them, if you like? Then you just need to read them. And just think... You get to hear him declare his love for you in front of a room full of people."

You beam with delight at Sayuri Aoki.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I locked my.. mushy feelings away, when I was in Kugane.. I kept them away until I met Eir.. Speaking them aloud in front of an audience is.. more daunting than any enemy I'll ever fight."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...And when have you ever been one to shy away from a conflict, hm? Even if it's one of your own. Especially not, if it's for him. I still can't believe his surname. -Your- surname to be." She grins. "...I wager you'll sign your full name far more often, afterwards."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I will practice writing my full name with his surname to make it flow more naturally." She offered a small wink, grinning. ".. Sayuri -Fellfrost-."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Oh yes. The newly wedded Mrs Fellfrost. Shiny ring and all." Bexy gives a short pause. "...When you marry him... This is all that will change, yes?" The excitement seemed to simmer quietly, as the question hung in the air.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. My surname and the fact I will be wed? Yes."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...You will still be at the company house? And... You will still be on the field, yes?"

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Bexy. I wouldn't -dream- of leaving."

Sayuri Aoki: "The company house is my home. And the field is where I belong."

...The comfort her words brought was... Needed. Part of me knew she wouldn’t leave, but it always helps to hear it. Of course...

If she did, i’d be happy for her. Why wouldn’t i be?

...But i would miss her terribly, both in work and presence.

Bexy Amalaryssia nods once, quietly. The notion seems to settle her enough to relax, at the very least. "...I am glad. At least i know that when you are finished on the field... You have your own little slice of peace to go to. It makes for a far easier recovery."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I have told you that Eir and I have spoken of the fact I won't stop fighting, and that he won't ask that of me." She reminded, offering a reassuring smile. "I will be at your side in the field, and I will have your back - just as you have mine."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...I know. I... Just needed to hear it, i think. There are few i trust to truly have my back through thick and thin... The battlefield would be a far more hectic place without you."

Sayuri Aoki smiles weakly at you.

Sayuri Aoki: "I will continue to be present for it. Contracts and otherwise more.. personal matters, if you wish for me at your side during it. Should something ever arise."

You nod to Sayuri Aoki.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...Much the same. Be it a battlefield or something more personal. You know i will be there." A quirk of a smile is given. "...My vow writing services are at your disposal, too."

You beam with delight at Sayuri Aoki.

Sayuri Aoki laughs at you.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I will keep that in mind for when the time comes."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I promise i'll not make it too flowery and love-stricken. Only a little."

Sayuri Aoki pouts!

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Tiny bit."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Oh my dearest, sweetest Eir..." Bexy began, melodramatically. "...I had never known the comfort of someone else's pyjamas until i had stolen your own..." She smirks, clearly teasing.

Sayuri Aoki: "I will have you know he -gave- it to me!"

You burst out laughing at Sayuri Aoki.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...That so? And how many times have you worn them since, hm?"

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I don't know. A lot?" She pouts.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Aha! More than once. Pyjama thief!" Bexy laughs, tail flicking behind her. "Perhaps i'll get you a set as a wedding gift."

Sayuri Aoki: "-He- gives it to me, I don't -steal- it!"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Of course." Bexy replies, not at all completely convinced. "...Maybe he just likes being cold." She looks over Sayuri with a smirk. "I think he does."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I mean. He -does-." She huffed. ".. But he also does give me the pyjamas, especially if we've been in the field."

Bexy Amalaryssia leans forward, the expression of mischief still present. "...I bet he wears them for a bell or so until you come home, doesn't he?"

Sayuri Aoki: "... I don't know."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I bet he does. Draws a bath. Brushes your hair." She leans almost completely forwards onto the table, propped on her arms. "Alllll for his wife to be."

...I’ll admit i enjoyed tormenting her about it a little more than i should. But how could i not? She is one of my dearest friends. My sister.

...Isn’t it an older sister’s duty to tease the younger?

Sayuri Aoki sees you and blushes with embarrassment.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. We're not engaged.." She mumbled. "... Yet."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Yet." Bexy punctuates with a grin. "But you will be. Ask him when you're going to Thavnair." She gives a half pout. "I want to know."

Sayuri Aoki: "I feel like we've barely gotten home from the East! Do you want us to leave again?" She chuckles.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "No!" Bexy protested, the half pout twisting her lips into a full one. "I just... I'm excited! For you. You deserve happy things, Sayuri. And finally... Finally, you will have them."

Sayuri Aoki beams with delight at you.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I'm gonna kiss him the moment he steps through the door-- if he's not already home.. then I will just kiss him the moment I see him." She gave a small pout. ".. And not tell him why, because if that's his plan I don't want to ruin it by knowing!"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "As though you need a reason to kiss your fiance to be." She hums, smiling warmly. "If he asks, i find 'just because' to be a perfectly acceptable answer."

Sayuri Aoki: "It is!"

It is a perfectly acceptable answer!

...We spoke a little more of him. Things he enjoys. Things i... Will try not to use against him, when the times comes where we do eventually speak. We spoke of vows and the like, and...

...Evidently, Eir is not the best with words.

...Perhaps i should offer my help to him, too.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. The fact I'm awful with food is not a new one. I have.. gotten better. Slightly. A lot of it being Eir's doing, offering me little bits of food here and there.. to 'try', he uses as an excuse."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...At least he tries. It... Must be difficult. But you must eat something. You know that." Bexy sighs, quietly. "...You don't need me to tell you. Still... It is better than eating nothing at all."

Sayuri Aoki gave a small grimace. ".. I try. Sometimes it just.. doesn't work out."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...I know. Worry not for it." She gestures to the drink. "...You're drinking things, and sometimes that's enough of a victory. At least he's able to tempt you with food on occasion." She smiles, a little sweeter. "...He looks after you. I want to tell him. I want him to -listen- to me!"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...I'm glad i was... Wrong. That he's far better than i'd have ever expected him to be."

Sayuri Aoki smiles weakly at you.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. It's nice, to be with someone I.. genuinely love." She spoke quietly, her hands lowering to settle in her lap - fingers fidgeting. ".. Emiko, my first.. I loved her, so dearly.. Hikaru.. I don't think I ever loved.. and I don't think he loved me, either." A small shrug followed, before she allowed her smile to brighten a little. ".. Eir.. He is.. so sweet, and gentle.. A stark contrast to myself, but he loves me eitherway.. And I love him. So much."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...To see how he looks after you, i can believe it. And to hear how you speak of him..." Bexy's expression warms to something softer. "...I am glad. That you were able to find it again. After Emiko. And despite the little scraps of affection Hikaru offered you, if any, when what you needed was a full blanket of it."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Barely scraps, but it is what it is. He is gone, and if he tried to return to my life I'd kill him myself." She muttered, flickering her ears back a touch. ".. I may not have loved him, not really.. But I was still with him. And whatever little sprinkle of affections lingered between us doesn't change the fact that he abandoned me, even if it ended up being for the better." Her head shook slowly. "I wish he at least broke it off before he left without a word."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...So do i. Or at least gave you closure. Anything." A short, sharp huff. "He didn't deserve you. Not even the air you breathed. Eir, flighty though he is, at least knows where his home is."

If i ever saw that waste of organs again, i’d enjoy filling him full of arrows far more than i’d care to admit.

...She deserved more. More than he was ever capable of giving her.

She deserves only the best.

Sayuri Aoki flashed a small smirk. ".. Eir was willing to consider it his home. Hikaru did not, and that's on him."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "With any luck he's found some distant hole to die in, to save someone the trouble of digging him a grave." A short, sharp incline of her head is given.

Sayuri Aoki: "Well, if he had the common decency to die in the wildnerness, at least he'll be useful as sustenance for the beasts." She muttered a little bitterly.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Oh, but he'd be so bitter!" Bexy laughs, shaking her head. "The grass doesn't care what feeds it, so long as it grows."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I fed Takeo's corpse to the tigers in Yanxia, I'll ensure his body is disposed the same way if I have to! And even if I don't have to!"

You burst out laughing at Sayuri Aoki.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I've hidden many bodies in many places. But never in a tiger. Still... If it came to it." Bexy muses, quietly, pointing behind her. "...My bedroom. There is a bookcase. A black book with no title. There's a hidden compartment." She sips her drink almost absentmindedly. "If you have need to... Contain someone, by all means, use it."

Sayuri Aoki squinted.

Sayuri Aoki: "... Bexy."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Are you saying there's a prison cell in your bedroom?"

You beam with delight at Sayuri Aoki.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "---Do you want to see it?"

Sayuri Aoki: "-- Yes."

Bexy Amalaryssia rises to her feet, beckoning to follow down the stairs. "...It isn't very big. But suppose we never need to keep people in it for long."

...I wouldn’t tell just anyone about it. Just those who i trusted, and wouldn’t judge me too harshly for keeping it. Moe didn’t ask any questions, and that’s probably for the best.

Sayuri knows me well enough to know what i’d use it for.

But considering her history...

Bexy Amalaryssia gestures to the lofty bookcase, for Sayuri to pull the aforementioned book.

Sayuri Aoki steps up to the bookcase, gaze curiously wandering the collection until it settles upon the aforementioned book. She peers at it, then at Bexy - lofting a brow as she seeks confirmation that she found the correct one. ".. Do I.. push it? Pull?"

Bexy Amalaryssia nods once. "...Pull it, it will move out at an angle... And the key for the cell within it, should you ever have need. The bookshelf will open when the book is out. And close again, should it be withdrawn.”

Sayuri Aoki nods, hooking a finger over the edge of the book.. slooowly pulling it outward.

Bexy Amalaryssia watches, as the bookshelf unfurls to reveal a room; dark and lightless and coated in unforgiving stone and steel. Bexy takes a few steps in. "...I'd rather have it and not need it... Than the alternative."

Sayuri Aoki's lips draw into a thin line at the sight, a deep breath becoming drawn and kept as she follows Bexy, her steps a little more hurried than intended.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...Sometimes people have invaluable information. Killing them is easy enough. But sometimes i don't have the place nor time to do it." She looks to the iron bars, tracing her ungloved hands over them. "...Now i do. I will at least grant them the mercy of a quick end, when i have what i need."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Keeping it away from the company, too." She exhaled the breath she had held, eyeing the cell. ".. I'm not overly fond of torture as a concept, considering.. what I have gone through. Yet I feel like there's a difference, when there's purpose other than to simply.. hurt someone for the sake of hurting them." She paused, then looked to Bexy. ".. For information, I can accept. Hells, I'd do it myself if I had to.. Which makes me feel very slightly like a hypocrite."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Far away from the company. Only some small handful know where i live; i can count them on my fingers with digits to spare. And less still that know of this room. Information is all i seek from them... Nothing more. I'm a pragmatist. Not a sadist."

Sayuri Aoki nods to you.

Sayuri Aoki: "I have no problem with that."

Bexy Amalaryssia offers a faint smile, stepping away from the room. "I have a spare bed, too, if you ever want to rest your head here. And a small collection of medical supplies, besides."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Should be easier to get here, now that I've found it once." She smiled, stepping out of the darker area and into the bedroom proper. ".. I will probably take you up on that offer, one day Eir is either out for several suns or he begins to actually talk to you and can come along- if that's okay, of course."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Of course. Perhaps better he doesn't know about this, though." She nudges the book back into place, watching as it folds back together. "...Though i only have the one bed. Not that i think you'd need two. It just isn't very big." A single sweeping beckon of her hand sees her move for the aforementioned location.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. It's fine. I can sleep on top of him." She flashed a small smirk, peering around the new area. ".. And yes. Not a word about the cell."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...It's a little overgrown, like the rest. But i have basic supplies, if for whatever reason you're caught unable to return to the company house." She glances to Sayuri. "...And that means if -they- somehow find you, too. This is a safe place to go. If they bring hell to my front door, i'll bury them all before they even cross the doormat."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. As much as I appreciate that offer, Bexy.." Sayuri's ears lowers, her gaze turning to her friend. ".. I do not wish to put you in danger."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "You should have thought of that before becoming friends with me. I didn't let those bastards take you at the Burning Wall, i am sure as hell not going to let them take you any other time. If you need a place, Sayuri. My door is open. You need not face anything alone, ever again."

Sayuri Aoki shrugs at you.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Well, I didn't exactly think they'd try to find me after I had been free from them for about seventeen cycles!" She pouted. ".. I know, and I will ever be at your side when you want it, too.. I just.. don't wish to drag them to your doorstep."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...I know. But better than than you facing them alone, Sayuri. You know i am but a single pearl call away." She offers a warm smile. "...There is a bath, too, should anyone have need. And the upstairs you've seen. Even if it's the same size as before... It feels more spacious."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. There's no saying no, is there?" She managed a small smile, her ears flickering. ".. Thank you, Bexy."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "...As though you'd let me do the same, were the roles reversed." The smile is mirrored with a grin.  "...You're more than welcome." A small pause. "...I had meant to go out this afternoon and collect firewood. An axe would be helpful... If you wanted to come with me?"

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Correct. I'd say 'to hell with the danger', and face it with you." She pouted, only to smile again. "Gladly."

Bexy Amalaryssia smiles, moving towards the stairs once again. "It shouldn't take us long, between the two of us, hm? We can have something to drink when we return again."

...There are few bonds like those of family. And... By that, i don’t mean people we’re born with. Shared blood, i have found, means very little.

...But blood spilled together?

That means much, much more.

[mysmalldevotion]

closet predicament 🍪

description: You had totally innocent intentions when you showed up to Abby’s office building that morning, balancing a stack of cookie containers as you navigated the front lobby toward the elevators. Honestly.

wc: 3.5k

cws: strap (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), risky sex, semi public sex, praise, pet names (honey, baby), afab!reader, she/her pronouns, reader wears a dress and a bra, abby is a bit of a bimbo and we love her for that, abby is your wife, abby stays strapped lmfao

a/n: i feel like this started off pretty strong but just got shit towards the end. this is 99% smut and 1% plot. i honestly got a little carried away this was only supposed to be 1k words. if you like this that’s amazing im so happy but i hate this lol. first thing ive written in ages and its pwp.

MINORS DNI

Youou had totally innocent intentions when you showed up to Abby’s office building that morning, balancing a stack of cookie containers as you navigated the front lobby toward the elevators. Honestly.

Okay, not completely.

Abby had been working so hard recently. She came home in the late hours of the night, the soft but noticeable jangle of the keys in the front door immediately woke you from whatever light sleep you were under. Her body would slide next to yours neatly like the missing piece to a lonely puzzle, and she’d slowly run her fingers along the flesh of your stomach until it lulled her to sleep, before disappearing just as quickly in the morning. You hardly saw her anymore.

You remember being ecstatic at Abby’s promotion to Chief Financial Officer, a fancy title that seemed to stick perfectly to your wife. And Abby was excited too, face nuzzled into your neck as she listed all the new things she could afford, places she could take you, gifts she could buy you. But that happiness quickly melted into disappointment when you and Abby both realised how much time her new job responsibilities would take away from your personal life.

So, after three months of fleeting kisses at the door and dinners left in the microwave, you were starting to get frustrated. And horny. Really horny. You could tell Abby was too, if her impossibly tense shoulders and permanent scowl were anything to go by. The strict schedule of routine and frequent fucking was severely disrupted and this was something you just could not stand for.

It’s not like you two didn’t try, in fact, you could barely keep your hands off each other. But something always came up. Always.

Like two weekends ago for example, when you and Abby settled down for a nice, relaxing movie night on one of her brief days off. It started out innocently enough, cuddled in each other's arms, the television playing some forgettable flick of the week. But those comforting caresses slowly turned into exploratory gropes and squeezes until the TV and bowl of popcorn were swiftly discarded in favour of two thick fingers stuffed into your cunt. The tips of Abby’s fingers drove into the front of your inner walls, in and out, in and out, an intoxicating rhythm as you spiraled quickly toward your release. Your face was tucked into your chest, Abby suckling beneath your ear as she coaxed you to be a good girl and finish for her. So close, so close-

A phone rang and Abby released an irritated grunt against your throat. You whined pathetically when she gingerly removed her fingers from their temporary home and wiped the wetness away on her sweatpants. She left the room in a hurry, returned just as quickly with her jacket in one hand and keys in the other, pressing a firm kiss against your head, muttering something about “Boss needs me back in,” between apologies. ‘Are you still watching?’ mocked you from the television screen.

Or this past Wednesday when Abby stood behind you as you packed her lunch absentmindedly, her strong arms wrapped around your waist. You didn’t even notice the little kisses she trailed down your neck until she was sucking dark crescents into your skin, her hands squeezing your hips tightly as she rocked you back into her. But that was just as short lived when Abby’s eyes darted to the clock and widened, her presence behind you suddenly vanishing as she hustled to the bedroom to get dressed for work. You wanted to yank that clock off the wall and smash it to pieces.

All that time apart was tugging on the seams of your relationship and you knew Abby needed some extra love, which is why you were here. In the elevator of Abby’s office building, your eyes trained on the steadily increasing numbers; 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. You held your breath a little, hands tightening around the pink cookie containers in a sudden twist of insecurity. To be honest, you weren’t sure how she’d react. She was a very busy woman, with what you couldn’t say, business management was more Abby’s forte, clearly. But you couldn’t help the feeling of anxiety pooled in your belly at the idea that maybe you were intruding. A soft ding interrupted your thoughts before they sent you fleeing back to the lobby, the elevator doors slowly parting to reveal floor 20.

Sometimes you forgot just how big and imposing this office was, with walls made almost entirely of floor to ceiling windows that opened onto a panoramic view of Seattle. People bustled past, laughter and miscellaneous chatter emanated from a break room down the hall, and fax and answering machines filled any possible leftover silence. You stepped out of the elevator, employees in button ups and slacks immediately filling the empty space you left. A maze of meeting rooms and cubicles greeted you everywhere you looked and the simple task of delivering a snack to your lovely wife suddenly became much more daunting.

Fuck it. Just wander around until you find her office. Yeah. You could do that.

Jutting your chin out a little and straightening your back, you willed your feet to move and you started down the first glass corridor you saw. Except…that was a dead end. And the next one too. You were starting to get the impression that you probably should have called ahead. But that would ruin the surprise. Frustration was starting to make your ears feel hot and suddenly it seemed that everyone was looking at you. Are these flashy pink containers too much? Is this dress too revealing? Maybe you shouldn’t have gone too heavy on the makeup today. The insecure thoughts were back full force as you fluttered around the hallways like a chicken, already feeling ridiculous and probably looking the same way. You were just about to turn tail and run when you crashed into a tall, sturdy wall of muscle, your eyes too preoccupied with searching for directions to look where you were going. The containers smacked back into your chest, several cookies crumbling from the impact, your heart crumbling a little with them as you looked down at your labour of love through the cloudy lid, your face a mixture of disappointment and despair. Are you serious?! Too consumed with your own devastation, you didn’t even think to apologise to the person you ran into.

“Hon, what are you doing here?” Abby’s familiar voice fills your ears, her big hands coming up to your shoulders comfortingly when she sees your expression. She always had a habit of showing up, or rather, running into you, just when you needed her. Your head snapped up, meeting her slightly concerned gaze. Well, you found her but at what cost.

“Abs, they’re ruined,” you said, gesturing down to the mess of vanilla coloured crumbs. Despite your disappointment, you couldn’t help but giggle a little at Abby’s clueless expression as her eyes darted between the containers and your increasingly amused face. “They were supposed to be for you,” you said, cracking open the lid to show her the carnage.

“For me?” she echoed, her steel grip tightening imperceptibly around your bicep as her eyes bored into you. This sudden shift made you pause.

“Uh, yeah. I was looking for your office but I couldn’t-“ You couldn’t even finish the sentence before you were being yanked to the side, a squeak escaping your lips as you held onto Abby’s thick forearm for support with one hand, the other desperately trying to keep the cookie lid closed before they became a janitors nightmare on the carpet. You were both suddenly in a much smaller room, the lighting switching from headache inducing fluorescent to almost pitch black, save for the sliver of hallway light peeking through the crack in the door.

But the more pressing matter was Abby backing you up into the furthest wall, her big frame crowding into your space, pressing the containers almost painfully against your chest as she attempted to get as close to you as possible. Abby’s hands gripped your hips almost bruisingly, fingers scrunching the fabric of your summer dress as her thigh slotted impatiently between your legs. Helpless to do anything against this woman on a mission you relaxed against her body, the firm muscle of her thigh sitting teasingly just below your core. Her cheek pressed against yours. Abby’s warm breath exhaled down your neck and you bit your lip at the feeling. Damn. How long has it been since you were this close to each other?

Her hand came up to cup a breast but the containers remained tucked against your chest, sitting as a barrier between those digits and your tits. Abby huffed out frustratedly, grabbing both the sizeable containers in one huge hand, fuck, and tossing them carelessly onto a nearby shelf. Her hands resumed their wandering, squeezing your tits through the fabric of your dress, drawing out your small whimpers.

“Abby!” you admonished, attempting to peek over her broad shoulder to see if there were still any salvageable pieces left. Abby took the opportunity to press hurried kisses beneath your lobe and down your neck on the bare flesh, then rising back up again.

“You made those for me, baby? My little housewife?” Abby breathed into your ear, her thigh knocking up quickly as if to punctuate her question, making you cry out before immediately snapping your mouth shut when you remembered the door was still open. Your cheeks prickled in embarrassment at the idea of someone hearing you. What if someone saw you two come in here?

“Abby, close the door,” you said between little huffs as she freed one of your tits. Your nipple pebbled almost immediately at the cold air before it was enveloped by her big hands, calloused from lifting weights. Abby kneaded the flesh forcefully, the contrast of harsh on soft sending pangs straight between your legs. You tried to grind down on her thigh but it remained irritatingly out of reach, your wife clearly too preoccupied with sucking marks on your collarbone to realise.

“Can’t, it doesn’t close all the way. Safety thing,” Abby whispered against your neck. Her fingers yanked suddenly on your nipple and you keened loudly, the noise being swallowed up by Abby’s mouth as she kissed you sloppily, thumb pressing down on the peak to soothe it.

You were almost about to scream at her to just fuck you, consequences be damned, when she hiked your thigh up around her hip, thrusting forward to bump her pelvis against yours. Wait.

Was she packing?

A noticeable bulge jutted out against your hip as she ground into you, creating an intoxicating friction everywhere but where you needed her most. Your lips separated briefly when you reeled back to look at your wife incredulously. Abby looked thoroughly pleased with herself, her braid messily strewn over her suit jacket, swollen lips pulled in a smug grin.

You knew sometimes Abby wore the strap around the house, hidden beneath the loose folds of her sweatpants, but that was mostly to rile you up by thrusting against your ass when you were doing the laundry or making dinner. This was new. Not that you were complaining.

“You like it? Was gonna surprise you tonight but I guess you just couldn’t wait,” Abby said, chuckling breathily. Before you could attempt to tell her to be quiet, her head ducked back down to kiss down your chest, mouth wrapping around your nipple and sucking hungrily. You threw your head back at the pleasure and bit your lip, grabbing on her braid and tugging. Abby groaned, her hips bucking as tingles spread down her scalp, the base of her strap catching perfectly on your clit. If there was one thing that made her incredibly horny, it was pulling her hair. Her lips crashed against yours again, slipping her tongue past your lips immediately. The kiss was a greedy mess as she smothered moan after moan.

Abby’s hand ventured between your connected hips, bypassing everything else completely. Her big hand cupped your pussy over your frilly, pink panties. Okay, yes, you were hoping to get some tonight as well. Your eyes fluttered closed, grinding down against the hard part of her palm. Abby was all too eager to let you use her for your own pleasure but it wasn’t enough, the friction against your clit barely a hint through the drenched fabric.

“Need you so bad, Abs,” you mumbled into her neck.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

The tips of Abby’s fingers teased the top of your panties before wedging past them, sliding down through your copiously wet folds. Her middle finger snagged on your clit repeatedly as she rubbed up and down, little mewls tumbling from your mouth at the feeling. Finally she focused on the little bundle of nerves, circling the hard nub softly before picking up speed. Warmth spread quickly through your quivering abdomen, legs attempting to close around Abby’s hips from the unrelenting pace. But the sound of close chatter immediately ceased her movements, you and Abby tensing up in each other's arms as someone passed the closet door. The two of you waited another moment, her fingers still suspended an inch above your pussy as you listened in silence for anyone else. Dread, fear and the tiniest bit of excitement mixed in your belly with the arousal. When she couldn’t hear anyone, her hand gently lowered back down, gliding down through the wetness to hook against your entrance.

Huffing in frustration, your hips sought out hers, intent on humping against Abby’s strap when her free hand caught your hip, pinning it back against the wall. All you wanted was for her to fuck you. It’s what you’ve been aching for since that stupid promotion. You dropped your head onto her shoulder, eyebrows furrowing and thoroughly kissed lips parting when Abby’s fingers continued to prod at your opening.

“C’mon, Abby, need your cock,” you groaned against her flesh, mouthing open kisses there in an attempt to persuade her.

“Can’t fuck you like that. Have to stretch this pussy out, honey,” Abby grunted, her finger finally catching on your entrance and slipping just one inside.

You whined loudly, relieved at being filled but not exactly as you needed. Abby’s free hand slapped over your mouth to stifle most of the noise and began pumping, shallowly at first until her wrist picked up speed, the base of her knuckles hilting right up against your opening.

“Been wanting to fuck you like this for weeks,” Abby whispered, eyes holding yours intensely over the hand that kept your mouth closed. Your eyes rolled back when she added a second finger, driving the pads of her fingers along your walls quickly, intent on spreading you open to take her strap. “You’ll take me, yeah? All of me? I know you will.”

The filthy words coupled with the unyielding pace of her fingers made you clench tightly around her, a familiar pressure building between your legs. Your clit throbbed from the lack of attention so you thrust a hand down your panties to soothe it, but noticing this, she pulled out entirely, your pussy clenching desperately around nothing.

“What the fuck,” you complained, hips twitching. Staring up at Abby through your lashes, you almost felt like crying. Her gaze softened and she quickly pressed a kiss to your hair, grabbing you by your hips and firmly directing you to turn around, pressing your front against the wall and your ass up against her bulge.

“I know, I know, baby,” Abby whispered, flipping your dress up and sliding your panties down. “Gonna fuck you so good, but you can’t make a sound, alright? Gotta be a good girl and stay quiet.” Too focused on her words of praise, you barely registered the sound of her slacks unzipping and the clink of a belt hitting the ground until the silicone eased up against your cunt, warm from the heat of Abby’s flesh.

The tip slid through your wetness a few times courtesy of Abby’s teasing, but when you groaned impatiently, she finally began easing inside. The burn of the stretch was so delicious, your walls fluttering around her strap while she waited for you to get accustomed. A few more gentle thrusts and deep breaths later and she was metaphorically balls deep inside your pussy. Abby spread your asscheeks apart a little to watch your entrance clench and unclench, her face flushed and biting her lip when you turned your head to look at what she was doing. Her eyes snapped up to yours and she leant forward, the movement wedging her cock impossibly further inside you. Bitten and abused lips captured your own tenderly, tongue gently licking into your mouth when she finally began thrusting.

Suddenly extremely grateful for Abby’s forethought, you mewled loudly into her mouth, your hands coming forward to yank your other breast free and tweak your nipples. Your thighs shook from the pleasure and Abby grunted, breaking the kiss to hold one hand over your mouth and bracing another on the wall over your head, her hips picking up speed.

The soft, intimate pace was replaced with harsh, deep thrusts, the sound of soft pants and slapping skin filling the closet. Your eyes stayed trained on the open door, blinking lazily as pleasure clouded your mind, the hard length of her cock grinding up against every sensitive spot inside of you. The idea of someone catching you two in the act was barely more than a passing thought now under the haze of lust. Her hand left the wall and met your clit, tracing firm, tight circles against it.

“Fuck, I love you. You’re so beautiful, you know that? You make me so hot,” Abby grunted, her hips now slamming against your ass, the steady rhythm of before abandoned in favour of making you come. Your clit ached beneath her heavy fingers and your release built up like a tidal wave between your thighs.

“Gonna come, Abby,” you whined against her palm, your words mostly muffled but still half intelligible.

“I know, honey, come on, come on my cock,” she coaxed and you threw your head back against her shoulder, white hot pleasure exploding in bursts behind your eyelids as you came. Abby continued to fuck you through it until you clenched so tightly around her strap she could barely move, holding your hips tightly as they trembled and convulsed. The pent up sexual tension built over weeks of torture melted from your limbs, your chest rising and falling contentedly. After a few moments of post coital bliss, your wife tapped your hip gently.

“Can I?” Abby asked oh so politely after she fucked your brains out.

You nodded, wincing when she slowly pulled out. The emptiness was more than evident and the flesh of your hips ached, no doubt from being gripped so hard. Abby tenderly pulled your panties up and straightened your dress before fixing her own sex induced fashion faux pas, turning you gently in her arms to face her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her cheeks blushing slightly pink, “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what came over me. It’s just, I saw you holding those cookies and it was so sweet and-“

Her embarrassment was more than endearing to you and you laughed, holding her face tightly as you peppered kisses over her red cheeks. She smiled softly down at you as you fixed her hair for her. Perfect. Professional CFO. You reached over to the forgotten containers of crushed cookies, pouting at them slightly and then offering them to her anyway

“They’re no good anymore but, maybe you can still eat them? Like, with a spoon or something?” you offered.

Now it was her turn to laugh, accepting the gesture and pressing a firm kiss against your mouth. So much for your pretty makeup. You’d have to race out of here before anyone noticed your smudged mascara and chin covered in lip gloss.

“I’m sure they’re still great,” Abby reassured you, one hand holding the containers and the other running affectionately up and down your waist.

Your eyes flashed to the hallway door, suddenly reminded of where exactly you were.

“Uh, so, should I leave first or?” you said.

“No, no, it’s probably best if I go first,” Abby said, taking a deep breath and starting toward the door when you caught her by the tie. She looked down at you, confused.

“Isn’t there something you’re forgetting,” you reminded her, one hand on your hip and the other smoothing down the front of her shirt.

Her confusion only deepened, the cute wrinkles above her forehead creasing up. She obviously wasn’t going to get it, so you took it upon yourself to reach down and zip her fly up.

“There,” you said, unable to stop yourself from grinning teasingly at her.

Her cheeks and ears turned even redder under the dim light. Is that even possible? Abby swooped in for an appreciative kiss, leaning back to look at you.

“What would I do without you?”

“Probably walk around with your fly unzipped all the time.”

“Alright, that’s enough out of you.”

🇵🇸 click here for information on how you can help palestine || do NOT support tlou/neil druckmann

[amberthefantasy]

'Neath Moon and Star

Chapter 6: Spider

There was something following them. Naris had noticed it during their journey to the Temple but he'd thought he was just being overly sensitive. Now he knew it was true. Every now and then as he and Ryna walked back through the St Olms Canton towards the Foreign Quarter, Naris spotted a shadow flitting over the walls. But everytime he looked, there was no one there. An assassin maybe? Or a thief following them. 

The moment they stepped onto the Arena Canton Naris saw it again. But this time when he turned to spot the shadow it didn't disappear, it stayed. "Ryna," Naris hissed, grabbing her hand to make her pause. "Do you see that?"

"See what?" Ryna inquired.

"The shadow," Naris pointed at the now still shade.

Ryna looked in the direction of his hand, "what shadow Naris?"

He blinked at her, "you can't see it?"

"No," Ryna looked at him, eyes filled with concern, "are you okay?"

"I don't..." the shadow moved, "I think I'm supposed to follow it."

"What?" The shadow continued to move forward, pausing whenever it got too far ahead of the following dunmer. "Naris!" Ryna called, walking faster to catch up with him. "Don't just start walking like that."

"It wants me to follow it!" Naris repeated, moving to the side to keep the shadow in sight as they passed a couple of Ordinators. 

"Okay, just tell me first!" Ryna snapped back. Naris nodded as the shadow slipped through a doorway and into the Waistworks (?). He followed behind, Ryna following him, still muttering about moving too fast.

They followed the shadow down, down, down. Down through the Waistworks, through the Canalworks and into a back room. The shadow disappeared. "There's something here," Naris said, looking around.

"What?" Ryna asked.

"I don't know, a door maybe?" Naris began to walk around the small storage room.

Ryna moved a few crates, eyes tracing the floor. "Here!" she called, pointing to a trapdoor below her. As Naris walked over and leant down to open the door Ryna caught him by the arm. "Are you sure about this?"

Naris drew his dagger and nodded for her to do the same, "I need to see why the shadow wanted me to follow it, but stay on guard."

Ryna gave a single sharp nod of her head, and the two descended into the underground room.

---

There was a short, bare hallway to walk through before they came into the main room. Four people stood around the lightly decorated space, three dunmer and a breton, all dressed in black and red leather armour. A large banner of a black spider hung on the opposite wall to the entrance, with someone in dark robes beneath it, hands placed over what looked like an altar. When Naris came into view, dagger still in hand, all the people tensed.

"Calm my friends," the one in the robes said, looking up from the altar. "Come new guest," he waved Naris forward. "The Webspinner has told me of your coming, and of the task she wishes you to fulfil."

"The Webspinner?" Naris asked. Mephala, the Webspinner, the Prince of Secrets, the Anticipation of Vivec. "What does a Daedric Prince want with me?"

"My Prince has offered you a chance to earn her favour by acting on some information that she had given me."

"What information?" Naris asked.

The dunmer smirked slightly, "so you are willing to complete this task for Prince Mephala?"

"What information?" Naris repeated.

The priest smirked even wider, his eyes sparkling slightly. "There is a member of our brotherhood living in Balmora, Balyn Omavel. He has been...freelancing, if you will. This is unacceptable, and he must be removed. Unfortunately, his brother is a rather important member of our brotherhood, so it would be difficult to bring it to the attention of the others. Use this poison in his food." He handed Naris a vile of green poison. "It acts swiftly, as should you."

Naris bowed, grabbed Ryna by the arm, and pulled her from the room without another word. 

---

After spending a day in Vivec, the peacefulness of Balmora's streets was welcome. "First we stop by Caius' and hand over these notes," Naris said, waving the copy of Progress and Truth that they'd grabbed from Jobasha's slightly. "Then, I do this thing for Mephala and I'll stop by the Tong to-" He stopped, unsure what would happen when he completed the task for the Daedric Prince.

"And while you are doing that," Ryna continued. "I will go back to Ald'Ruhn and wait for you." She backed away from his side to head toward the Silt Strider dock.

Naris paused to turn and look at Ryna before she left. "You don't have to wait for me."

Ryna smiled, "I know." She turned and walked away, leaving Naris staring after her, confused as to why she seemed to intent on being his friend and standing by him.

He shook his head, Caius needed those notes.

The imperial was, as ever, seated at his table. He looked up at Naris' entrance. "You have the notes?"

"Here," Naris handed over the book, where he had stashed the notes. "I'll be in Balmora for the rest of the day if you need me." Caius nodded and waved Naris goodbye.

Balyn Omavel's house was pretty simple to find. The armourer, where Naris stopped by to complete his set of bonemold, knew Balyn and told Naris his address without question. Thankfully, Balyn wasn't home and Naris was able to sneak into his house and drop the poison into his cooking pot, which already had some soup cooling off inside. 

Naris crouched on the roof, watching the door of the house as Balyn approached. He entered without even glancing around and Naris waited. The sound of liquid being poured into a bowl whispered through the slightly opened roof hatch. Then the sound of slurping. Choking. That was the next sound to reach him. A body hit the floor and Naris backed off the roof, he had succeeded in his task and now could return to the Morag Tong with that information. 

"There you are Naris," Caius' voice called to him.

Naris turned. "Caius, another job for me?"

"That's right," Caius nodded. "We need an Ashlander informant. I have heard of a fellow in Ald'ruhn named Hassour Zainsubani, an Ashlander who left the Wastes to become a wealthy trader. They say the Ashlanders like to give and receive presents. Take these 100 drakes," Caius handed Naris a bag of gold. "Find out what Zainsubani likes, and get him a gift, and see if he will tell you about the Ashlanders and the Nerevarine cult."

"Will do," Naris nodded. "See you after I visit Ald'ruhn."

---

Now he knew where the Morag Tong guild was, it was easy to find them. He slid down the ladder and into the underground lair. 

There were fewer people in the main room than there were earlier, but the elf in the robes was still present. He didn't even blink when Naris approached. "I did it," Naris said.

"I know," the dunmer responded. "Well done. Mephala wishes to speak to you directly. This is a great honour for you. Approach her altar."

Mephala wanted to speak to him ? Directly? Naris blinked, and without any real thought, approached the altar. He took a deep breath and placed his hands down on the altar. " You have done well, mortal, " a voice echoed in Naris' head. " There are some things that must be done to preserve the order. And it will be amusing for me when this business comes to light. I look forward to it. " A silver ring with topaz gems appeared on the altar before him, glittering even though there was barely any light in the room. " Take this ring, mortal. Through the brightest day it will carry you with speed and stealth. Leave me now. " Naris backed away, the ring clutched in his hand.

He looked down, turning the ring over in his hand. He slipped it on. The central topaz began to glow, then a dark shape crawled out of it. Naris froze as the shadowy spider crawled over his hand and up his arm, before settling on his shoulder. It glowed once more and froze in place. Was that a spider brooch that moved?

"A blessing from the Mistress of Spiders," the priest said in awe. 

"Is it real?" Naris asked, his voice slightly strained.

"No," the dunmer laughed, "simply an animation spell so it could move into place." Naris relaxed. "The Prince of Secrets has marked you as her champion." He bowed.

Naris swallowed. Great. Marked as a champion of a daedric prince. Hopefully no one else would know the meaning of the magic spider brooch, which Naris doubted he could remove.

---

"So, the spider thing was a gift from Mephala?" Ryna was asking. She'd been waiting for Naris in the council hall. 

"Yes, and keep that quiet," Naris hissed. He nodded sideways at the Temple priest who was speaking with Neminda. "I would prefer if word didn't get out."

Ryna blushed slightly, "sorry. Well... did Caius give you any new orders?"

"Yes, to find this ashlander-" he glanced down at his journal- "Hassour Zainsubani."

"Hassour Zainsubani..." Ryna repeated. "I haven't heard the name around," she paused to think. "Why don't you speak to Nemina, she said she had some job for you, and I'll ask around and see if I can find out where this Hassour Zainsubani is?"

"Sounds perfect," Naris nodded. He didn't know when exactly he'd decided to trust Ryna with helping him, but the mer seemed insistant of sticking around and it felt nice to have someone to talk everything through with.

Nemina and the priest seemed to be finished speaking about whatever it was they were talking about, the priest bowed and left leaving Neminda free to approach.

"Naris! Perfect timing," Neminda smiled. "Drulene's having issues again."

"I'll go see what the problem is," Naris nodded.

Drulene was standing by her guar, ringing her hands. "Did Neminda send you again? I've been having trouble with bandits," Drulene said, her voice distressed.

"Where are these bandits?" Naris asked.

"The bandits came from the south last time and they led off one of my best guar that way. I'd check south of here to see if there are any caves or tombs that the bandits could be hiding in," she shrugged.

Naris cracked his neck.

Bandit's always thought they were better than they were. Naris made quick word of them and made his way back to Drulene. "Those bandits won't be bothering you again."

"Thank you Naris. If you ever need anything, just ask." Drulene smiled.

"Good work Naris," Neminda nodded to him. "You have done lots of good work for House Redoran, I believe you may be worthy of something more than just praise."

Naris cocked his head.

"I hereby promote you, Naris Indarys, to Lawman of House Redoran."

---

"Lawman?" Ryna jumped up and down a few times, "Congratulations!"

"Thank you... you're a lawman too right?" Naris tried to remember what Ryna had said her rank was the last time they reconnected.

"Yes, we're the same rank."

Naris smiled, "did you find Zainsubani?"

"Not yet," Ryna shrugged. "The innkeep said he went out to sell some wares, he'll be back." Her eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe you should rest, I haven't seen you sleep since Ald Velothi."

Naris tried to remember if he had slept since then, but he drew a blank. He allowed himself to be led to a bed, and Ryna to take off his armour. He shifted the bottom of his shirt as he slipped into the bed. "Good night," he whispered to Ryna, as she reached the door to find her own bed.

"Good night."

Naris blinked open his eyes. He was standing in a dark room. The same mer that had appeared in one of his last dreams was standing before him. "'There are many rooms in the house of the Master. Be easy, for from the hands of your enemies I have delivered you."

Naris' brows furrowed. The mer stepped aside and his eyes widened when he saw what was behind him. His own body lay on a table surrounded by candles. Naris stumbled forward, reaching out to grab at his own body. When his fingers touched the flesh, the figure's chest rose. It sad up slowly, eyes flicking open to reveal glowing golden eyes.

Naris woke to a light filled room, his hands shaking.

NMaS masterlist / post masterlist

[hypnolurker]

Nina felt used. Disgusting. Less than a piece of trash. Lying there, cum leaking out of her overused pussy as the man she hadn’t met until just an hour ago dropped cash on her as payment for his use of her body.

Only the other day she had been a respectable lawyer. One of the best in her firm. Then in court that day, a man had said something to her about lawyers. He was unable to keep up the payments to the firm for their fees and as they told him they would no longer be able to continue their services, despite his ongoing trial for rape, he snapped. He looked at Nina who was supposed to be representing him and told her that “lawyers are all the same; whores! They’ll do anything for money! They are desperate. Lower than trash.” Then he was forcefully removed from the firm’s office building by security.

Nina tried her best to continue her work but she was so distracted. His words kept going around her head. Lawyers are whores? He called her a whore…said she would do anything for money. Admittedly she would do anything for money but she was no whore. She was respectable and focused on her work. She didn’t even think about sex often.

However, the more she tried to think about work the more she thought about sex and whores. Whores would represent any client if they had the money. They didn’t have to be someone they know or like. Whores got their clients off and then never saw them again. Whore got payed very well for their work. Whores were experienced and skilled in their area of work. Whores’ clients were usually seedy types who were often guilty of crimes like rape and theft.

Lawyers seemed so much like whores. She couldn’t think of any differences really. If they’re in an office they’re a lawyer, if they’re in the street they’re a whore. That thought went round and round her head as she walked home. She was on the street. She was a whore.

No that wasn’t right! She was a lawyer. She knew that…but…she couldn’t get the image of beckoning a guy over and him proposing she perform sexual favours for cash. It seemed like such an easy way to make money. She liked money. She would do almost anything for it….

No! She wouldn’t compromise her morals for money. Or sex. She got home and thought it didn’t matter because in her formal work clothes no one would recognise her as a whore. She looked too prudish and ugly. Whores wore more makeup and looked sexier.

This morning she got ready for work. She would go out and be a good worker and make lots of money. She applied her makeup. Thick red lipstick, dark eyeshadow, lots of blush. Perfect. She put on her clothes. Revealing, lots of skin on show. Perfect. This would be great for making lots of money.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Slowly she realised she looked like a complete whore! What had been going through her head when she was getting ready? She was…well she thought back and realised she was thinking about making lots of money. The mans words from yesterday ran through her head again.

She tried to ignore them but as she gazed into the mirror at her whorish reflection she found it harder to deny. She did want money. Was it so unreasonable that a hot young woman would fuck guys for money? Money was so great!

She walked out into the street still clad in her whorish ensemble. She was unsure of whether she was heading to the office or just walking around in search of a nice street corner with no cops where she could find a guy to fuck. It would need to be near a cheap hotel so that she could take guys back there if they wanted to fuck her on a mattress.

She was taking a bit of a detour on the way to the office. It was becoming clearer that she wasn’t going though. She was now in a seedy area of the city miles away from the office building. Soon she spotted a small hotel with a dilapidated sign and dirt on most of the walls. She purchased a room, it was unbelievably cheap. Of course she realised why when she saw that it contained a mattress only. It was enough. The walls were also quite clean. For now.

She was struggling to think of her morals. Trying to think about doing lawyer work was impossible. What did she even do at the firm? She remember lots of typing and talking to people. It was all stressful. She wondered if she had ever been a lawyer and might be imagining her whole life as she stood out on a seedy street corner, waiting. Her stance as promiscuous and whorish as she could manage.

Then her first client came. He seemed familiar and was grinning quite a lot as he asked her how much. She got more excited than she had ever been. It felt like she was making free money! All she had to do was name her price and fuck this guy! She asked for $300 for her whole body and he agreed. Simple as that. She was amazed. Why was she a lawyer again? Was she….?

Now she is lying on the mattress, cum leaking from all of her holes as her first client throws money on her. She feels disgusting….depraved…a complete whore! That man was right. It suddenly comes to her. The man who told her what she is, he’s the one she just fucked. She weakly turns her head to see him grinning, throwing money on her from her own purse and laughing as he yells what a whore she is and how he was right about everything.

She learnt a valuable lesson about whoring today, always get paid up front.

[ajohnwood]

Top 5 Places to Concentrate on All through End of Lease Cleaning

As it pertains to the end of a lease , thorough cleaning is essential to ensure a smooth move and the return of one's protection deposit. To make the process more feasible, it's crucial to prioritize certain places that need additional attention. In this article, we'll spotlight the most truly effective five parts to target on all through end of lease cleaning.

Kitchen: The kitchen is among the most crucial parts to concentrate on during end of lease cleaning. Focus on the stove, stove, and range engine, removing any built-up fat and grime.

Clean the refrigerator extensively, both inside and out , including cabinets and drawers. Wipe down counters, cupboards, and backsplashes, ensuring they are clear of stains and food residue. Don't forget to clean the drain, sink, and drains, and make sure to attract and clean the ground to keep it spotless.

Bathroom : The bathroom is yet another critical place that needs complete cleaning. Clean and sterilize the toilet, paying close attention to the pan, chair, and exterior. Wash the bathtub, shower, and drain to get rid of soap scum and vitamin deposits. Wipe down mirrors, cabinets, and counters, ensuring they're clear of water places and stains. Don't overlook the taps, showerheads, and fixtures, clean them to a dazzling shine. Ultimately, sweep and clean a floor, making it new and hygienic.

Walls and Baseboards: Take some time to check and clean the surfaces and baseboards through your hire property. Remove any scars, smudges, or scuffs employing a slight cleaner or gentle scrubbing. Pay specific attention to high-traffic areas and places prone to dust and fingerprints. Also, wipe down the baseboards, removing dust and any accumulated grime. By approaching these places, you are able to ensure the house seems well-maintained and ready for the next tenant.

Windows and Screen Remedies: Clean both the interior and outside of the windows to allow in optimum light and give a new look. Wipe down the screen sills, structures, and tracks, eliminating any dirt or debris. Additionally, clean shutters, curtains, or other window remedies, after the manufacturer's instructions. By watching the windows and screen covers, you create a welcoming and bright environment, making a confident impression in your landlord.

Floors and Rugs: Flooring is just a significant focal place throughout end of lease cleaning. Vacuum or attract the floors carefully to get rid of any dirt or dust. Mop difficult areas, such as for instance tiles or wood, utilizing a suitable cleaner. For carpets, contemplate skilled water cleaning or work with a rug end of lease cleaning Melbourne service if required. Address any spots or locations rapidly to displace the carpet's appearance. Clean and finished surfaces provide a feeling of cleanliness and attention, ensuring a favourable inspection.

End of lease cleaning Melbourne service is an essential stage towards an effective transition and the get back of one's safety deposit. By emphasizing the kitchen, bathroom, surfaces and baseboards, windows and screen solutions, and floors and carpets, you can ensure a comprehensive clean that leaves an optimistic impact on your landlord. Take the time to prioritize these places, and you'll be on your way to a smooth move-out process.

[shoyoist]

Hi rekhaaa! I was wondering on what are the Tokyo revengers boys' quirks r gonna be if they're in mha!! Any thoughts??

𝐓𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒' 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀

been a long time since i got over my bnha phase but this shows that i'd enjoy giving tr characters quirks and writing spin offs for them LMAO — not proofread, but i had a lot of fun thinking of these <3 (i did say my inbox is closed for reqs) but if you sent me individual characters that i havent done, i'll answer w/ quirks for them too!! short hcs are fun hehe

ぞ | hmmm, TAKEMICHI would have the ability to see glimpses of the near future. if he were the protag of bnha, his story would be that he wasted the potential of his extremely useful quirk by choosing to live a plain, ordinary life without aspiring to become a hero. then something absolutely terrible happens, but he gets the opportunity to turn things around for himself and for everyone else, if he goes back in time and claims the rank of top hero and saves the world. op music starts playing and takemichi starts his hero's journey ☆☆☆

ぞ | MIKEY would have the ability to put people to sleep. not just sleep, actually, his quirk enables him to turn people's systems off and render them comatose. if we're talking side effects, he's just sleepy ♡♡ and falls asleep real quick when he gets tired. he's quiet, a little shady but also very sweet, and whether as a hero or a villain, he'd be super powerful and useful <33

ぞ | i'll do DRAKEN a favour and let him have his motorcycle body. he's a cyborg. like genos from one punch man !! he has to get his prosthetic limbs removed and maintained regularly, and needs oil changes LMAO. imagine being the mechanic that takes care of him though <33 or the scientist that creates new body parts and weapons for him.

ぞ | BAJI is like Four Arms from Ben 10 SKHFHKH, he's big and muscley and has four arms. the perfect person to turn to, when you need a good sukuna cosplay. by the time he graduates hero school, he stands at 6'10" ♡♡ and so popular with everyone. holds fan events and meets, is super fun and friendly, good with kids — and he never turns down those calls asking for help bec a cat got stuck in a tree and needs saving LMAO

ぞ | ok ok KAZUTORA would have blood iron manipulation. realistically, your blood doesnt have THAT much iron so this is leaning towards the fictional side — but yeah, he can control your blood (maybe the flow of it out of your body, after a slash?) via the iron in your blood cells. he would be a hero turned villain <33

ぞ | MITSUYA definitely works in the rescue division. he has restoration abilities. i'm not calling it regeneration because it doesnt work on living creatures or people. it works on non living formations and structures, like stone and all. he's one of the front liners of the rescue teams. they locate people trapped under fallen buildings and such, and then mitsuya carefully restores walls and pillars, fixes cracks in the ground, and creates a safe path to reach the people from. he's also really pretty, a good leader, and skilled at providing guidance and reassurance, so everyone has a lil crush on him <33

ぞ | PAH-CHIN would have super strength. he's a lil like sakura from naruto (are there other sakuras? bec i dont know lol) and he would work in rescue, too, but in the opposite way that mitsuya does, i guess. he breaks down obstructing structures like walls and rubble, and paves way towards the people in need of saving.

ok that's takemichi + the toman ot6 but let me think of some more.

ぞ | of course KISAKI has an intelligence quirk. his ability allows him to make foolproof, precise plans that lead him straight to his goal— the catch being that they're only arranged according to his heart's desire. every step of his vision has to be followed out thoroughly to completion, to reach the end goal. however, some steps are incredibly self indulgent (step four: kill takemichi. LMAO) therefore, he's a loner at work, and more of an anti hero type. he does what he wants, how he wants, by himself. unless he met someone that was fine with doing things all his way <3

ぞ | HANMA can speak to the dead. if you come to him with enough grief and longing in your heart, for someone that's dead, he can summon their soul by channeling the power of your longing, and bring their spirit back to the edge of life for a short period of time. he would be a villain with a tragic backstory that's only revealed much later — and he works as the recruiter for his organization, by scouting people with useful quirks that have lost loved ones. "hey kid, if you do this for me and my boss, i'll let you see your sister one last time." that typa beat.

ぞ | i feel like SANZU would have some sort of energy absorption quirk. he absorbs fear. growing up, he was timid and more afraid of others than others were afraid of him, so his quirk was kept in check. however, once he joined the villains' side, he became ruthless — his gruesome murders, skilled escapes and endless number of successful heists make him his organization's beloved poster boy (which honestly only helps people to recognize and therefore fear him even more u_u).

ぞ | SENJU has a camouflage quirk. she's able to change her body to match the colours of whatever she places both her hands against — and therefore, she's part of almost every stealth mission the heroes carry out. she's leader of her division, and gets invited to a lot of workshops and expos — she's got a million fans, and the bnha universe twitter is full of senju stan accounts i just know it !!

ぞ | KOKONOI has charmspeak. it fits him really well — he's an excellent talker, silver tongued to begin with, so when he applies his quirk and slides in, he's able to coax information out of anyone he wants, and get his way no matter what the circumstances. he would've considered being a hero as a kid, but then he gets strung into a villain organization, where he decides to stay.

ぞ | if i mention koko i must mention INUI, who has a shielding ability. he's able to reflect the effect of quirks off him to some extent, giving him some level of immunity to quirk based attacks — and he uses this alongside physical shields provided to him by the hero association's weapon devs, to be both a physical and a mental shield to himself and any one he partners up with.

[the-little-ewok]

Quiet

Quiet Poe Dameron X F!Reader Rating : 18+ / Explicit  Wordcount : 4850 (ish) Warnings : Oral M!receiving, oral F!receiving, PIV, unprotected sex, smut, total softness and fluff, teasing and banter, language, tiny smudge of angst if you squint, oh did I mention the smut?

Summary : You give Poe a going away present when he leaves for a mission and on his return, Poe is going to make sure he repays the favour ten fold. 

A/N : Shameless smut. Not gonna lie…. No regrets. 

++++

Poe grins at you, eyes bright with amusement as he swings the door closed behind him, shutting you both in the small room. 

"Sneaking off into supply closest? Well, it's been a while since we did this," he comments with a raised eyebrow. 

"If we use either of our rooms, we will be interrupted," you point out, thinking back to the last time you'd tried to have any time alone before the pilot left on another mission. There always seemed to be something, or someone, that needed his attention right at the worst possible moment. 

"So that's what you dragged me here for!" He exclaims in mock surprise.

"Drag? You followed like a little lost puppy," you tease, placing your palms on his shoulders and backing him up against the wall, pinning him there with your body. 

"Let's just say you looked like a very tempting treat for this little puppy." He takes your hips, pulling you close against him as he dips his head to kiss you. He wastes no time in teasing your lips open and sliding his tongue against yours. His tongue licks languidly into your mouth, caressing your own as his hands drag your body tight against his. Despite the fact he's the one pressed to the wall, you can't help but feel completely at his mercy as his kiss steals your breath. 

You have to stop him before he ruins your entire plan. But stars, he makes it so difficult to pull away from him, especially when his hands start creeping up your back, untucking your shirt as he kisses you.

When you finally part for breath, you take the moment to blink yourself out of your kiss dazed haze. When he leans in to kiss you again, you shake your head, running your hands down his chest.

"Wait a second. You haven't heard the reason I dragged you in here," you almost pant out breathlessly. Poe raises his eyebrow with a grin. 

"I thought it was so I could kiss you like that?"

You shake your head, sliding your hands a little lower in suggestion. 

"Not quite. Do you think you can be quiet while I give you your going away present, pretty boy?" You enjoy the flush that appears instantly on his cheeks at your words. Dropping your hands down to unbuckle his belt, you lick your lips, letting him know exactly what you intend his present to be. 

"Think I'll manag-" the rest is cut off by a low moan as you slip your hand into his pants, pressing your palm against his hardening cock.

You raise your eyebrows with an amused grin. 

"I think we just proved otherwise," you tease, starting to withdraw your hand. 

"I'll be quiet," he breathes, taking a gentle hold of your wrist to keep your hand where he wants it. "I promise."

"You sure you can be?" You grin. He gives a soft mhm in response, leaning forward to capture your lips. You smile against his mouth before you allow yourself to give in to his kiss, capturing his moan as your hand wraps around his cock. 

You pump him slowly as his tongue licks into your mouth once more, his hands sliding up under your shirt, toying with the waistline of your trousers. The temptation to allow him to touch you is almost too much, but you force yourself to pull away from his kiss, gently removing his hand from your wrist, and your hand from his pants.

Poe gives a frown, his mouth opening no doubt to ask you what's wrong before his eyes go wide, and he's suddenly lost for words as you get down on your knees, working his trousers down. 

"Quiet," you remind him, meeting his eyes as you lean forward and swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock. Poe chokes back the moan that attempts to break free, taking a deep, unsteady breath as you take him fully into your mouth. 

"Fuck. You don't make it e-easy," he stutters, quickly covering his mouth with his hand when you pull back, lightly grazing your teeth against his skin.

Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you work him over with your mouth and your hand, twisting your wrist and swirling your tongue in the way you know he loves. Poe does try his best to be quiet, but as he gets closer to his end, his volume creeps steadily higher. 

"Baby," he groans, threading his fingers through your hair as you pull back, pressing your tongue to the underside of his cock. When you take him further into your mouth again, he lets out a loud groan, and you tap his hip in warning, a reminder he's supposed to be quiet lest you both be caught. 

His hands leave your hair and the next moment he lets out a loud, but muffled moan. You lift your eyes to his, but he isn't looking at you, and the sight of him makes your pussy clench. His eyes are screwed shut, beads of sweat breaking out across his hairline, his scarf pulled up and clenched between his teeth, muffling the whimpers and moans he'd given up holding back. You can't help but moan around his cock at the sight and Poe's hips jerk in response, another whine muffled by his makeshift gag, his eyes snapping open to meet yours.

You hold his gaze as his hands tangle back in your hair, keeping the scarf between his teeth. Judging by the glazed look in his eyes, his stuttered breathing and trembling, the pilot won't last much longer.

You double down on your efforts, letting out another moan around his cock. You see rather than hear him bite a curse into his scarf as his climax hits, his legs almost buckling with the intensity of it as he cums on your tongue. 

You're grateful for the fact he has his mouth full because the noises he lets out, even with the makeshift gag, are loud enough that you are sure they can be heard outside the room. You half expect someone to start hammering on the door to ask what's going on. 

Thankfully, the corridor outside remains quiet, and the two of you undiscovered, as Poe comes down from his high. You sit back, allowing his cock to leave your mouth with a pop. You can't help but throw him a smug grin when you take in how absolutely wrecked he looks. 

"Shit," he groans, pulling down the scarf and letting his head slam back against the wall, his chest heaving in panted breaths. "That's some going away gift." 

You grin at him, making a show of licking your lips and earning a shaky "Maker," from the pilot before you help to redress him.

When you're done, he takes your hands and helps you to your feet, barely allowing you to get your balance before he spins you around, swapping your places and pressing you up against the wall.

As he dips his head to kiss you, both of you freeze at the echo of his name being called somewhere further up the corridor.  

"You need to go, flyboy," you sigh, running your fingers through his curls, desperately wishing for another few hours with him. 

"I will, when I'm done with you." Poe answers, pressing himself hard against you. "Not going to leave you unsatisfied after that. I bet you're soaking for me," he whispers in your ear. 

 Well, he certainly wasn't wrong. You can feel the dampness in your panties, especially when he slots his thigh firmly between yours as he kisses you. 

"You need to go," you whisper against his mouth, shoving his shoulders without any strength at all as he presses himself closer to you, his lips working their way across your jaw and down your neck. You can't help a soft moan as he gently bites down on your pulse point, his fingers slipping up under your shirt to skim at the bare flesh of your ribs. 

You might have let him continue if it wasn't for a second shout of his name almost directly outside the door, which pulls you back to your senses. As much as you wanted this, him, neither of you had the time. He had a job to do that came before any of your needs. 

"You need to leave." This time it comes out more firmly, and you push him away, holding him away from you with your palms pressed to his shoulders. "Please, Poe. The sooner you go, the sooner you can come home."

He regards you with a pained expression. It isn't the fact you're turning him down right now that hurts, you know, as usual, it's the fact he doesn't want to leave, that both of you know this may be the last time you ever look at each other. 

He steps forward to you again, and you allow it. You allow him to capture your lips in a fierce kiss — bruising and passionate. It says everything he doesn't dare to speak aloud. 

The kiss seems to go on forever, but all too soon he swallows hard, pulling away from your lips and leaning his forehead against yours as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tightly.

"Every day I'm away is one time I'm going to make you cum with my mouth," he promises, making you laugh and reach up to cup his face.

"I'll hold you to that," you smile, stroking your thumb across his cheek as he leans in to kiss you one final time before he steps back. You swallow hard as you give him a nod, and he reaches out to squeeze your hand tightly before he opens the door slowly, checking nobody is around before he slips out. 

There's no tearful goodbye, no desperate hugs or waving his ship off, no promises to come home safe or to keep in touch. Both of you are all too aware that those promises can be broken all too easily. All you have now is hope. Hope that you'll see each other again, at least one more time.  

~

It's some unreasonable hour of the night when the banging at your door pulls you from a fitful sleep.

"Ugh, stop 'm comin'," you grumble rolling out of bed as the knocking continues, loudly and insistently. You sleepily stumble over to the door and press your hand against the pannel. 

"I love you," Poe states the moment it slides open. It had become a tradition that the words you wouldn't allow yourselves to say during goodbyes were always the first you spoke when you saw each other again. 

"I love you too," you breathe, quickly looking him over. He's still in his flight suit, his hair damp and messy from his helmet, his eyes tired and sporting a bruise across his cheek that hadn't been there when he left. 

"I was going to see you in the morning, but…my feet sort of just brought me here." He pauses with a shrug and a lopsided smile.

"What happened?" You ask, lifting your hand to brush your fingers gently against the bruise on his face, instantly regretting it when he winces. "How bad does the rest of you look?"

"It's not so bad. I think the colours suit me, but I'll let you be the judge," 

"You should have gone to medical," you scold, pulling down the edge of his flight suit to inspect the edge of a bruise on his collarbone.

"It's just cuts and bruises. They have bigger things to deal with, I'm sure," he smiles reassuringly, pulling you into his arms to cuddle you close. "Besides, I have all the medicine I need right here."

He doesn't give you chance to scold him again before he slots his lips over yours. You shouldn't give in so easily, but the warmth of him back in your arms breaks any resolve, and you easily sink into his kiss. He lets out a moan against your mouth as your fingers find their way into his curls, tugging gently. His arms tighten around your waist, holding you close as he deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue against yours, seeking to taste every part of your mouth.

He grins when you finally pull apart, a little breathless, your heart beating wildly. 

"Now that's what I call a goodnight kiss." He lets out a happy sigh, leaning his forehead against yours. "I missed you." 

"I missed you too," you smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "But you smell disgusting right now." 

Poe laughs and cuddles you harder. 

"You would too if you spent the past eight hours in a cockpit," He grins as you roll your eyes before he kisses your forehead gently. "Can I stay here tonight? My room’s always too quiet without your snoring,"

"I don't snore," you slap his arm lightly as he laughs. "And you hog all the covers."

"I do not," he scoffs, pulling away from you with an offended look. "Maybe I'll just go back to my own room after all."

Laughing, you take his hands and tug him into your room, shutting the door behind him. 

"Go shower. You're not getting in my bed like that," you giggle, pushing him in the direction of the fresher.

"Wouldn't dream of it, I'd never hear the end of your complaints," he dodges out of the way as you go to slap his arm again, laughing as he backs up towards the bathroom. "Don't wait up."

"Wouldn't dream of it, you'll be in there for hours," you grin, climbing back into bed as he watches you from the doorway.

"I'm glad to be home," he smiles softly before he disappears into the fresher.   

~

You're already half asleep by the time you hear him leave the fresher and clatter about the room. Sleepily, you open your eyes, blinking against the dim lighting from the window, trying to stay as asleep as possible. That is, until your eyes catch sight of him, bathed in the dim moonlight, his back to you as he folds up his clothes. 

Maker, he just has to make things difficult for you. 

"Poe, can you please put some clothes on? I'm only human," you groan, burying your head in the pillow, so you don't open your eyes to stare at his naked form again. It's too much to feel this level of desire weighed against the tiredness that makes your body ache. 

"I don't have anything to sleep in, so I guess you're just gonna have to deal with it." You can hear the grin in his voice as his footsteps near the bed, refusing to look at him. 

"I'm tired," you complain as the mattress dips with his weight. You fight to keep your eyes firmly shut as you feel his warm body settle next to yours under the covers.

"Go to sleep then," he answers easily. 

You open your eyes to glare at him, and Poe feigns an expression of innocence, raising his eyebrows. 

"Hey, don't give me that look. I'm not the one that can't keep their mind out of the gutter when seeing the naked form!"

"Oh, and you could?" You scoff with a raise of your own eyebrow.

"Try me," he dares stubbornly. You really should not play this game. You're tired, Poe is tired, both of you desperately need sleep, but the temptation to prove yourself right, and the desire to have your skin pressed against his, outweighs any exhaustion. 

You shrug in answer, sitting up and curling your fingers into the hem of your sleep shirt, keeping your eyes trained on his before pulling it up over your head, dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. You hear a hitch in his breath, and you can see the way his fingers twitch against the mattress. With a smirk, your shorts follow, allowing his gaze to roam the full expanse of your naked body.

He shifts slightly, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he makes a show of settling down further into the bed, but his eyes never stop roaming your flesh.  

"Alright well, goodnight," he throws out casually, shutting his eyes.  

Grinning, you lay back down, knowing you've already won by the flush on his cheeks and the slight increase of speed in his breathing.

"Good night, P-" the rest of his name gets cut off in a squeal of laughter when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you on top of him. Giggling, you adjust yourself, straddling his hips as his arms keep your chest pinned to his. 

"I thought you were going to sleep?" You grin, feeling his evident arousal pressing up against your stomach.

"I was going to, but you, don't, play, fair," he grumbles, tickling your sides with each word, making you laugh and squirm. 

"How so? All I did was even the playing field," You giggle, leaning up on your arms to look down at him. He stares up at you, flushed and wide eyed. 

"Not true. I mean, look at you! Even with your clothes on, I want you all the time. How am I supposed to cope without them?" He breathes passionately, grinding his hips against yours. He smirks at the gasp you try to suppress, as heat prickles across your skin and arousal floods your body. "Bloody lucky I didn't jump you the second you opened the door." 

"Oh, so that's why you came here! And I thought you just missed me," you tease, trying to look offended. 

"No, no, not at all! I wanted to see you," he pauses and sighs softly, reaching up to cup your cheek, his entire demeanour softening. "I thought about you, you know? Every day, every second of every day."

You take his face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over his cheekbones as you drink him in, your chest aching with affection. 

"I thought about you too. All the time." 

Wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, he pulls your lips to his, holding you against him. 

This time his kiss is more tender, filled with longing and love. There's no urgency as his lips part yours to deepen the kiss. This kiss isn't one of rough passion or lust, it isn't one of relief or longing, but one of connection, of reassurance and love. It leaves you breathless when he finally pulls away. 

Smiling and giddy with love, you sit up and allow yourself a moment to properly look at him, to take in the blues, purples and yellows that litter his body, along with red cuts barely healed crossing across already old scars. Your fingers trace the edges of one of the bruises as you frown.

"You need to be more careful."

"I'm alright," Poe reassures you in the soft way he always does when he comes back hurt. "I'll tell you about it tomorrow, but you should know I won… eventually." 

You roll your eyes at his goofy grin, but you're still unable to stop the soft giggle that bubbles up. He watches you quietly for a moment, his palms skimming up your thighs. 

"I should probably let you go back to sleep, shouldn't I?" He asks, hands creeping up over your hips to roam across your ribs, mapping out the curves of your body.  

"What if I'm not tired now?" You whisper, threading your fingers through his hair as you lean down to kiss him. He hums in thought, wrapping his arms around you. 

"Then I suppose I'll have to do something to help tire you out."

He flips you all too easily. One moment you're leaning over him, his hands caressing your back as you study him, and the next you're on your back, pressed into the mattress by his weight as he dips his head to press open mouthed kisses down your neck. 

"I have a promise to keep after all," he reminds you, pressing soft kisses down your chest and across your breast, flicking his tongue across your nipple, pulling a gasped moan from you. 

"That can wait. You need to rest." There's no conviction behind your words, and he knows it. Both of you know this only ends one way, and it isn't sleeping. 

"Can it?" Poe asks, kissing a trail down your ribs, pausing at your hip to suck on your skin, leaving a dark mark.

"No," you breathe honestly, the desperate fire of desire already blazing through your veins. You feel him smile against your skin before he shuffles further down the bed, his hands pressing your thighs apart, exposing you to his gaze.

"I've been thinking about this since I left." He places a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, before he switches sides and kisses the other one. "Thinking about how you'll taste," another kiss to your skin higher up, causing your breath to hitch in anticipation, "the noises you'll make." 

He switches sides again, this time nipping your skin softly with his teeth, making you squirm, desperate for him to put his mouth to better use. 

"I've been thinking about all the ways I can make you cum."

"Poe," you whimper, half begging him to stop dragging this out, the anticipation becoming too much. If he carries on talking, you might cum without him ever having touched you in the way you're desperate for. 

He lets out a breathy laugh against your core which only makes you tremble more, and when he finally licks a hot stripe through your folds, you throw your head back with a loud moan. 

"Hmm, just as well I'm not asking you to keep quiet," he comments, more to himself than you, before he goes back to working you over with his tongue. 

You couldn't be quiet even if you tried. No amount of pleasure you could bring yourself ever seemed to come close to the expert way Poe used his mouth. His tongue alternates between flicks against your clit to pressing deep inside you, lapping up your arousal as though it was his favourite meal. His hands dig into the meat of your thighs, holding you open to his meticulous ministrations.  

You whimper, twisting your fingers in the sheets as he pins your hips to the bed, preventing you from lifting yourself into his mouth, holding you in place as his tongue relentlessly flicks and laps at your aching core. 

When he seals his lips over your clit, sucking hard, your body gives in to the overwhelming pleasure, your eyes rolling back almost painfully hard as your orgasm trembles through you. 

Poe groans against you, making aftershocks of pleasure shudder through you. He feathers soft kisses against your thighs, giving you a moment to come down from the high, before he suddenly slides two fingers easily into you with a wet squelch. 

"One down. Four more to go," he grins, dropping his mouth back to your still pulsing cunt.

~

Maker, you've lost count. He must be well beyond the promised five by now, and yet he shows no signs of letting up. He's dragged you over the edge so many times your orgasms are rolling into each other, barely having time to breathe before the next one hits.

"Poe, I c-can't-fuck, fuck, fuck!" You gasp in a hoarse voice, throat sore from the sounds he's dragged from you, as another orgasm rockets unexpectedly through you. 

"What was that?" He asks, grinning up at you as you stare down at him, your vision still fuzzy around the edges as you come down. "You can't? I think we just proved otherwise, baby." 

Smug bastard. If you had the energy you'd kick him, but it's impossible to move in this state. You make a mental note to get your own back when your limbs are cooperating again. 

You whimper as he drops his head to kiss the inside of your thigh, still trembling from the pleasure he's wrought from you over what feels like hours. 

You're almost thankful when he moves his lips up your leg to your hip, slowly pressing soft kisses across your body as he works his way up to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. 

"You want to go to sleep yet?" He asks, moving his mouth down across your cheek and nipping at your jaw, chuckling when you shudder at the brush of his fingers over your peaked nipple.

"No," you shake your head, still trying to catch your breath as his hands continue to slowly roam across your breasts. 

"Do you want me to fuck you?" 

Exactly what noise leaves your mouth you can't quite say. It's somewhere between a moan and a whimper, but whatever it is gets Poe to give you a smug smile. 

"That a yes?" He asks, grinding his hips against yours, allowing his cock to slide up against your wetness, drawing another moan from you. 

"Y-yes," you manage to stutter out, lifting your hips to meet his, desperate to feel him inside you despite the fact he's almost worn you out entirely. 

He doesn't tease you any longer and gives in to your plea, lining himself up at your entrance and slowly sinking in. You moan at the feel of him stretching your walls to accommodate him, slowly, inch by inch, feeling every drag of his cock as he stretches you out after his absence.  

When he's fully sheathed inside you, your walls fluttering around him, he pauses and kisses you, deeply and passionately. You tangle your hands in his hair, tugging gently and capturing his moan as your pussy clenches around him. 

He slowly withdraws his hips before pressing back into you, taking up a pace of slow, unhurried thrusts, his breath fanning out hot across your skin as he presses his body against yours, burying his head in your neck. 

The feel of him filling you is almost too much for your already over-stimulated body, and you tremble with a moan beneath him, your fingers gripping at his arms, the knot in your abdomen already tightening despite the fact you're sure you can't go again. Poe however has entirely different thoughts.

"You got one more in you, baby?" He whispers, pressing hot open mouthed kisses down your neck. 

Maker, even if you didn't the sinful way he whispers it sweetly in your ear would easily drag you back to the edge anyway. 

He hums in question when you don't answer, turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek as he rolls his hips deeper. You let out a strangled moan, your pussy fluttering around him as he presses against that blissful spot inside you. 

"I know you do. Let me have it," he groans, giving a little more force to his next thrust. "I need to feel you cum."

All too quickly, you can feel the threads holding you together starting to snap, giving in to the pure pleasure each thrust of his hips against yours brings. It's almost enough to throw you over, but not quite. Your body is exhausted, each nerve raw and sensitive. You can't quite reach the high he needs you too. 

Like the expert mind reader he seems to have become with you, he takes your hand and presses it down between your bodies, guiding your fingers down to your neglected clit. 

When your fingers start to work the sensitive nub with a soft whimper he lets go of your hand and instead moves it to your thigh, hitching it up over his hip and sinking deeper as he picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, filling the room with the sounds of flesh on flesh. 

The combination of his cock pressing deep inside you and your own fingers working against your clit gives you just what you need. His name leaves your lips in a stuttered whimper as another climax shudders through you, every muscle going temporarily stiff before you collapse beneath him, a melted puddle of flesh and bone, trembling and panting, thoroughly worn out. 

Poe bites out a curse and a broken moan as his hips stutter against yours, your climax triggering his own. He thrusts slow and deep inside you, emptying himself in hot, warm bursts before he collapses on your chest, breathing heavily. 

"Yeah, I missed you." He mumbles into your neck after a few long moments. You give a small, exhausted huff of laughter, running your fingers through his damp curls. 

"I'm not letting you leave again," you whisper, kissing his head. 

"I'm not going anywhere ever again," he confirms quietly, wrapping his arms around you to hold you tightly. 

Both of you know that's a lie, but neither of you admit it. You choose not to concentrate on the lie. Instead, you take the quiet moment wrapped up in each other, you pretend, and you hope.

--------

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[spacegoldilocks]

The Gods Demand a Queen

Bjorn Ironside x F!Reader

Summary: You're a thrall in Kattegat, under the rule of Bjorn, who desires to one day be Queen and sit on the throne. He helps you realise these dreams, in more ways than one.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, smut, rough sex, throne sex, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, bit of choking, bit of spanking, size kink, praise, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 8.5k

The Gods have never favoured you.

You’ve been at someone else’s will for as long as you can remember. Not all of them have been nice. It’s toughened you up, though. You’ve learnt your place and your manners. You’ve learnt when is the correct time to speak, and definitely when isn’t the correct time.

You’ve been in Kattegat, under the mercy of Bjorn Ironside, for a few months now. He’s fair. You mostly stay in the shadows and out of his way. He’s not even here most of the time, anyway. You can’t really complain about your time here, even though you dream of a different life.

You dream of sitting high on a throne somewhere. Anywhere. Not having anyone to answer to. Your own thralls and slaves to do with as you please. A thousand people who call you their Queen, who sit around you, showering you with compliments and gifts. Sacrifices in your own name. A crown upon your head and your face smeared with colours that tell everyone that you are the Queen.

Alas, dreams are dreams. And you don’t dare defy the authority that lingers over you. The fate that awaits your disobedience and failure to capture the power you so desperately crave is worse than simply maintaining your fantasy. You listen attentively to the every need of the family in charge. Most notably, Bjorn.

He’s away more often than he’s here. In those moments, the throne lays empty. Practically begging to be used. At present, no queen resides in Kattegat and you long for the feeling of the throne beneath you. It calls to you like no other.

It’s more than a feeling that tells you that you belong on the throne. You feel as though the Gods have a plan for you. They keep you waiting, so you can ready yourself for when the times comes. It is a question of when not if. The Gods demand a queen for Kattegat, you can hear them.

You say Bjorn is away more than he’s here, yet today is one of the rare times he’s here and he’s active. A room full of people and many duties to attend to. Which also means you’ve been on your feet all day. With Bjorn home and his being busy, you’ve had no end of tasks to complete and requests to indulge.

It started this morning when he and his men arrived on the shores of Kattegat. You having to draw baths and prepare a feast, wash clothing and all the while do it quickly to keep time for any other jobs that might need doing. This included waiting on their every need as they enjoyed festivities for returning safely from their travels.

And so, the throne has been occupied. The only time Bjorn left his seat was to eat with his men, and he quickly returned to it when he was finished. You’d been watching him since he returned. The way he sits, spreading across the chair. Arms thrown over the sides, legs parted, head resting against the back as he looks down at everyone else.

Despite everything you feel, there’s no denying that power suits him. He makes a good king. He is fair and strong and courageous. And he is a son of Ragnar. He speaks with a loud, commanding voice when he addresses his people, thanking them for their bravery and telling them that they live to face more battles before walking the halls of Valhalla.

You won’t lie to yourself and say he’s not attractive, you’ve thought about it before. If you weren’t a thrall and spent more time with Bjorn, you like to think that something might’ve happened between the two of you. But you really have a knack for staying in the shadows, hidden, and only coming out when absolutely necessary.

Throughout the entire evening into night you’ve stayed hidden away as much as possible, watching Bjorn in his position on the throne. Gods, he’s so big. You shake the thought from your head, feeling the pain in your shoulders from so much time racing around today. Your back is killing you. But it’s getting very late, not long and you should be able to go to bed. Not long, you tell yourself. Everyone in the hall should be getting tired too, a long day of celebrations after an even longer time travelling.

They start disappearing in small numbers. Many women leaving in the arms of men, some already married, others seeking comfort in one another just for the night. You’ve made it your business to become familiar with a lot of people around here, not just so you can be a good thrall, but just in case. In case of what, you don’t know. You just think it might be good to have a good indication of who people are, and what they do, in case you need it.

Eventually, there’s only you, a few other slave girls and a handful of men, who are outrageously drunk. They’re so loud. They shout and bang their fists and cups on the table, spilling their drinks and making an even bigger mess that will need to be cleaned up.

Bjorn looks almost fed up, scowling as he watches the men from his seat. He holds his chin, elbow propped up on the arm of the throne. “That is quite enough.” He calls.

All eyes shoot to him. The men look like they want to argue back at him, but ultimately know better than to do so.

“Finish your drinks and leave. Everyone needs their rest.” He gestures around the room, even though there are only a few men, all concentrated on the table nearest the fire. “We have a long few days ahead of us.”

They chug their drinks, not wanting to disappoint or annoy Bjorn any further. They leave one by one, as soon as they each finish drinking, bowing to him before swaggering out of the hall.

You and the other girls are expecting Bjorn to up and leave, letting you all take care of the mess in the hall. But he doesn’t.

You each look at one another from across the room, spaced out along the walls. You’re all as confused as each other, trying to look for someone, or something, to take a cue from.

One of the girls, directly across from you, begins to move. She steps forward gingerly, looking at Bjorn as she does so for any sign that he wants everyone to remain as they are. It’s incredibly tense. This has never happened before. You’re waiting for his voice to boom and echo throughout the mostly empty room, telling the girl to return to her place.

His eyes flick to her, watching as she goes to the table, picking up as many items as she can carry, before returning to stare at the ground, lost in thought and twiddling his fingers. He doesn’t seem to have a problem - you’d know if he did.

And so the rest of you follow her lead, carrying things out of sight to clean and making the hall look more presentable after being thoroughly worn out by the returning warriors.

Your whole body aches. Your back, your feet, your head. Everything. At this point, you just want to sit down. The soles of your feet are probably worn from standing, walking, rushing from one place to the next.

You take any little milestone you can get. You told yourself everyone in the hall would leave and they did. Check. Now it’s four more tables to clear, the fire to put out, the goblets and cups to leave soak. The list goes on.

You and the other girls are dotted around the hall, cleaning and collecting different things when Bjorn gets up. You all make it your duty to not look at him.

Do not make it obvious that you were waiting for him to do something.

You hear him make his way across the room, his heavy boots making the wood underneath him creak, thumping across the stone floor as he descends from the elevated throne. His footsteps stop much too early for him to have already left the room, let alone the building. It’s unbearably quiet.

You audibly gasp when you hear whispering voices - much too quiet for you to understand what they’re saying, and thankfully they’re too far away for them to have heard your embarrassing gasp. Although, you immediately recognise one of the voices as Bjorn’s. Gods, you’d love to turn around to see what he’s doing. His behaviour tonight is continually fascinating.

You try your best to keep going with your task. ‘Just clean the table’ you tell yourself. ‘Focus on that. There’s a stain, try to get it out. Pay no attention to the-‘. Now there’s two sets of footsteps. One Bjorn’s, the other one of the girls. Is she leaving?

The stain. You scrub at it, trying to ignore the way Bjorn’s footsteps stop again. Followed by more whispering. And more footsteps. What the fuck is going on?

You think another one of the girls has left too. You scrub harder at the stain, thinking that perhaps if you channel enough of your remaining energy into removing it then your brain won’t have any to think about what Bjorn may or may not be doing.

Gods, why are you so on edge? Would you be this tense if you could actually see what he was doing? Shit, is that more whispering? And it’s closer. Maybe if you stopped scrubbing the table so loudly you could just about hear…

No. The stain.

Fuck, what is happening? In the room, to the girls, to Bjorn, to you.

You can probably guess what’s happening to you - you’re tired. You’re becoming delusional from being so exhausted by today. You’ve worked hard. You’re still working hard. This damned stain. You’re working so hard to remove it, to distract yourself, you’re only now feeling the way your shoulder is pulling from the harsh movements of your arm.

The stain’s probably gone. You lift your arm up to check and, sure enough, it is. Surely, you’re done for the night now? You’re exhausted, the long hours you’ve worked today are starting to catch up with you. You want to sit down. You want your bed. You want to rest. You want the hand that’s just started rubbing circles across your back to keep doing it. Gods, you could fall asleep right here, the motions lulling you.

Fuck. You flash back to your reality, your head whipping around as Bjorn’s eyes meet yours. He looks aggressive, towering over and shrouding you against the table. His hand rests on the small of your back as he just looks down at you. Maybe its your exhaustion, or perhaps its seeing him this close up for the first time, but Gods is he gorgeous.

Well, you’ve always thought he was handsome but something about seeing the many scars on his face that you’d never had the privilege of seeing before, and the brilliant blue of his eyes somewhat dimmed in the firelight, and the coarse hairs of his beard like this snaps you awake. His smile breaks through the tough exterior he presents, making you relax just a little bit.

The next words that come out of his mouth take you by surprise more than his hand that smoothes across your back. “Have a drink with me.”

Have a drink with him? You probably look insane because you just stare at him. Completely dumbfounded. Somehow you manage to nod your head, letting him lead you away from your lovely, clean table to a slightly dirtier one. At least he appreciates your hard work.

You set yourself down on one of the benches by the fire, resting your arms on the table to try to find a comfortable position where your back doesn’t ache. Bjorn, meanwhile, crosses the room, fetching with him two cups of ale. He sits down right next you, leaving a bit of space but not much.

He looks at you quizzically as he takes a gulp of his drink, whilst you sip. “What is your name again?”

You’re not surprised he doesn’t remember, it’s been many months since you last spoke to him outside of his instructions to you. You answer him between sips of the ale. It’s not your favourite drink in the world, but you like it. And you’ll probably get a small buzz off it between your sleepiness and the lack of water you’ve drank today.

“Hm,” he hums. “That was it. You have been here for several months now, no?”

You can’t help but wonder why he’s sat with you, asking you questions about yourself. Is he expecting you to ask questions back in return? You don’t think there’s a thing you don’t know about him. He is the king, after all.

You nod. “And what do you think of Kattegat?” He swigs from his cup, eyes staying on your face as you carefully consider his question.

You have nothing negative to say about the place, but you still try to choose your words carefully in case you say the wrong thing. “I think it is lovely here.”

He stays silent, willing you to keep talking.

“The people are nice, the food is good. And it is a beautiful place. There is much to see and do.” You elaborate.

He smiles under his beard, nodding in approval at your answer. You sip some more, waiting for another of his questions. He gets up to refill his cup, having finished it rather quickly. He checks yours, seeing it still mostly full, and walks across the room.

Just when he’s about to sit back down, he asks you another question. “And what do you think of the King?”

Your heart starts hammering against your chest - what sort of question is that? Moreover, what the fuck does he expect you to answer if not praise? You see his kind smile has turned into a devilish smirk when you look at him. Are you imaging it or has he sat ever-so-slightly closer to you?

You straighten yourself up, ignoring the painful tugging of your shoulders. “Well,” you begin. “I think that he is just, and fair. And that he makes a good leader.”

The smug look on his face stays, not bearing to stay silent long enough for you to make the decision to keep talking on your own. No, instead he insists you keep feeding his ego as soon as you take the smallest break in talking. “Go on.”

This time it’s you who smirks at him. “I know he is a fierce warrior. And I think that he looks rather good on the throne.” You mean the last remark in that the symbol of authority suits him. But, if he decides to take it … another way, then that’s up to him. Either way, you don’t mind what he interprets the comment to mean.

He looks away from you, chuckling, but giving nothing away. It makes you laugh a little bit too, any tension from earlier having melted away with your easy interactions.

It doesn’t last, not for you at least.

“Tell me, have you ever thought about what it would be like to be Queen?”

With one single sentence, you feel as if he can see right through you, right into you. Fucking of course you have, but how should he know? How can, in one sentence, he be able to floor you like he this, to ask you a question so unintentionally personal? One that pulls something deep within you, something you’ve never voiced to anyone and suddenly now it’s being unearthed by the one person who you should never have to confess it to. Not that you necessarily need to confess the degree to which you have thought about it, but even the insinuation that you have is enough for you to begin flustering, muddling any answer that comes into your head into an unintelligible mess that you can’t verbalise.

You’re quiet for much, much too long. You need to say something. “I’m sorry?” You settle for pretending not to understand.

But it’s no use. The damage caused by you silence is done. His jaw rocks to the side, clenched so hard his jaw bone juts outs under his beard. “So you have.”

Your drink lays forgotten, only serving as a distraction for your anxious hands as you fidget with the rim of the cup. You avoid his gaze, unsure how to act. Then again, surely everyone has dreamt about being king or queen? Maybe not to the degree you have, but doesn’t everyone strive for power? You hold your head up a little bit, feeling slightly reassured by your own line of thinking.

You keep your eyes trained forward, though. He tips his head to look at your face and you can just feel the way he’s smirking at you. He’s left you looking so stupid, stewing in your own thoughts.

“Come with me.” Is all he says as he swings his legs over the bench to stand up. When you look up he’s waiting, hand held out for you to take.

You get up, smoothing your dress out and taking his hand. He guides you out to stand with him on the other side of the bench and leads you towards the very far end of the long room. Towards the throne.

Your eyes flick from him, to the throne, to him again - back and forth as you walk the length of the room.

He stops at the chair and you stop with him, still with your hand in his. Is he doing this as a display to taunt you? Show you up close what you can never have? It’s fucking cruel if he is.

You wait for him to do something so you can take a cue from it. You look up at him and he simply motions with his hand to the throne. You frown, waiting for more information from him. “Sit.” He says.

Sit? On the throne? On his throne? Gods, is this some sort of test? Is he giving you a taste, a mere crumb, of how it might feel to actually have power? Or is he just pushing you to see how far you’re willing to go to obey him? It’s his throne, it belongs to him. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone else use it - not even while he’s away, far gone on a raid somewhere.

He drops your hand, using his own to push gently on your shoulders. He spins you around, pulling you down to sit on the throne as he stands behind you.

The room looks huge from this position. Slightly elevated above everyone else and able to see everything and, should the room be full, everyone. It’s comfortable too, and big. You expected as much, Bjorn doesn’t even fully fill the chair and he’s the biggest, broadest man you think you’ve ever seen.

He lowers himself to your ear behind you. “How does it feel?”

‘Correct’, is what you want to say. “Good.” Is what you settle for.

He straightens back up, placing his hands on your shoulders. He’s so big, and he’s putting far too much weight on your already sore shoulders, causing you to wince. “Are you alright?” He asks, alleviating some of the pressure.

“‘M fine, my back hurts is all.” You try to make it not seem as bad as it is, but truthfully you’re in pain.

“Let me help.”

“N-no, it is fine, really.” You lean forward to get up from the throne just as he starts using his thumbs to dig right into a tight spot in the middle of your shoulder blades. You let out a groan at how good it feels, closing your eyes and slumping your head against the back of the chair. Any desire to get up leaves you as Bjorn works the muscles at the back of your neck.

“Tell me if it is too hard.” The calloused pads of his fingers trace firmly across the tops of your shoulders, barely grazing your collar bones as his thumbs work into the top of your back.

It’s a power trip. You sitting on his throne whilst he massages the knots out of your back and shoulders. It’s getting you high, and you open your eyes to look out across the room. You imagine how it would look full of people. Like it was earlier tonight. Packed full with people there to see you. You'd kill for it.

Gods, his hands feel so fucking good and they spread across your shoulders so big. Your eyes flutter back closed, wanting to enjoy his touch without much other sensory experience.

You’re reluctant to acknowledge the fact that it’s turning you on, too. The pain of him rubbing away the aches mixes with just how amazing his warm hands feel against your bare skin. It makes you moan, forgetting where you are as you revel in his hands taking the pain away from you, leaving only traces of his touch behind.

He focuses on your arms now, the clusters of dull ache now gone from your back. His palms work down your biceps, squeezing your soft flesh over your clothes and coming back up to massage your shoulders. His fingers spread out over your chest, rubbing the skin there. You hum under his touch, which he can probably feel reverberating on your chest under his fingertips.

You didn’t tell him your chest hurt, but he spends time concentrating on manipulating your flesh there anyway. His fingers dig into the bones, coming up momentarily to wrap his thick fingers around your neck, squeezing before dipping back down. He repeats this a few times, making you whimper every time he does.

“Is this good?” He whispers from behind you.

You moan out a small ‘yes’, letting him continue with his handy work. His splayed hands come further down your chest, beginning to dip below the necklace of your dress. Your heart beats faster and fuck, you’re wet. You’re trying not to let it get to you but in this moment, you’d let him do anything to you, you realise.

You furrow your brows, trying to push it to the back of your mind, but his hands keep working further and further down, in tiny increments. You swear he’s going to reach your breasts any moment. But he doesn’t. It feels like he’s teasing you. In fact, he goes anywhere besides them. He massages the skin directly above them, kneading into it with the heel of his palm. Then, he dips his fingertips deep into the neckline of your dress, drawing a long, hard line through the middle of your chest, dragging between your breasts. He starts near the bottom of your sternum, feeling the rapid beat of your heart as you try not to think about the warmth pooling between your legs.

You don’t see the way his jaw clenches as he realises how rousing you’re finding this, being groped and touched by him. He told himself he wasn’t going to take it any further, but he can’t help himself. Not when you respond to his touch like this. All the little moans you’ve been making, and the way your heart thrums against your chest. He wants more from you. He wants to hear and feel more of you. Fuck it, he thinks.

He touch leaves you, and you feel yourself come down slightly from a high you didn’t even realise was so severe until it cuts short. You open your eyes to see him walking around to the front of the throne again. He extends his hand to you, much like he did earlier, and you know its your signal to get up from the throne.

You take it, feeling no pain whatsoever in your back, nor shoulders, when you hurl yourself from the comfort of the chair.

He surveys you, using his free hand to cup your cheek. His touch is intoxicating. You don’t know what it is, but the way his hands feel on your skin makes you chase the warmth of him, needing more than the short strokes he gives you. You lean your head into his palm, only slightly but enough to indicate your interest to him.

He’s trying so hard not to give into the part of his brain that tells him to kiss you and to touch you even more. But he hasn’t done well at fighting it up until now. And, unless he’s deluded, you want this too.

Your chest rises and falls, waiting for him to do something. It’s not your place to. His hand stays holding your cheek. It’s so fucking big. It’s big enough for his palm to cover your entire cheek. Gods, his hands were big enough to almost spread out across your chest. His long, thick fingers working at the base of your neck and down past your breasts. Your mind drifts as you stare at him, thinking about how they might feel somewhere else.

His hand drops from your cheek. You think he’s going to walk away and leave you desperate for his touch again. Instead, he sits back down on his throne, looking up at you as he settles against the back of it casually.

Fucking Gods, if he keeps looking at you like that you’re going to jump on him. It’s him that made you feel like this anyway. You were perfectly content to go to bed after finishing cleaning, but no. He had to ask if you wanted a drink with him, and ask you questions, and fucking massage you as you sat on his throne.

He keeps looking at you, considering what to do next. All he knows is he wants you out of your dirty, worn clothes. He flicks his hand up and down, gesturing at them. “Take it off.” He tells you.

Finally, you think, trying not to be too eager in removing your garments.

You start with your shirt, unhooking the top few buttons to allow you to slip the long sleeves down your arms. You let the sleeves fall and the rest of the garment goes with it, left in a heap at your feet. You’re completely revealed for him, your body glowing from the light of the fire behind you.

His cock twitches in his trousers upon seeing you bare before him. He’s trying not to be too obvious, trying to be patient in looking at your body, but he’s greedy. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin that he can see.

You look down at the slight tent in his trousers, smirking at him. He returns it, curling his finger at you to beckon you forward. You’re much too far away, he wants to let his hands explore you. Much further than they already did.

You walk to him, meeting his hands as they come up to hold your tits. Those big fucking hands that trace under the swell of your breast. That grope at your flesh, and his thumbs that brush over your nipples, hard in the cool night air that makes its way into the hall.

He alternates between pinching your nipples, pulling them so hard it almost hurts, and soothing them again by gently rubbing over them.

Everything about this feels so dirty. Displaying yourself to Bjorn. The literal king. Offering yourself to him naked like this whilst he sits completely clothed on his throne. You know you’re probably not the first thrall he’s done this with, but it’s a first for you. And you actually like it. It’s a thrill. Whimpering at every roll of his fingertips over your nipples.

You ache for his touch somewhere else, trying to subtly squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of the ache. He doesn’t seem to be in any sort of hurry, taking his time to study every detail and flaw in your skin. It could be ages before he touches you elsewhere - if he decides to touch you elsewhere.

He pinches you again, but you’re so sensitive from his hands that you yelp, chest jumping under his touch. He looks up at you, looking at your face for the first time since you removed your clothes as he leans forward, enveloping your breast in his mouth. His tongue is hot but does wonders to soothe the slight stinging. He maintains eye contact as he swirls gentle circles around your nipple, leave a small bite before he moves to work on your other one. His beard scratches at your skin as he moves his mouth, melting in with the pleasure he's already giving you.

You snake your arm around his head, holding him to you as you watch him in awe. He’s an expert with his tongue, flicking and drawing patterns over the peaks. He moves on from focusing all of his attention on them though, sucking sloppy wet kisses into the bouncy flesh on your tits. He travels the kisses across your chest, leaving you glistening with his saliva. He goes down, grabbing at your hips as he traces his tongue down the centre of your breasts to just above your navel.

You want him to go further, resisting the want to buck your hips towards him to will him to go on. He draws his head back, his hands still resting on your hips.

He shifts his gaze down, watching his own movements as his fingers move across your lower abdomen, combing through the curls that lead him down.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

You nod. Gods, it’s more than okay. You’ve been waiting for him to touch you for the last … how long? You’ve lost all sense of time. All you know is you’re needy for him.

His tips of his fingers travel further, stilling as they reach the beginning of your slit. He lifts his head, studying how your face contorts in pleasure as he moves his fingers again, pressing one of them against your clit.

He pushes his finger down further towards your entrance, feeling how wet you are there. He smiles at this, satisfied knowing how turned on you are for him. He drags his finger back through, now wet with your slick, using it to draw an irritatingly weak circle around your clit. You try to push your hips further forward for more pressure, but the hand that remains on your hip prevents you from doing so.

Your breath staccatos as he pays not nearly enough attention to your throbbing clit. You moan at the loss of contact when he removes his hand from your cunt altogether, spinning you around so your back, and ass, face him. He almost pushes you over as he grabs handfuls of your behind, spreading your cheeks apart to really get a good look at you.

All you need is just a little push, a minute or so of strong, steady work on your pussy to send you over the edge. He’s intent on making you wait though. It’s cruel, you think. He knows what he’s doing to you - he’s fucking felt it. It’s sadistic. Making you wait. Teasing you.

He kneads your ass, his thumbs dipping into the space between your cheeks, so close to where you need him but never quite reaching there. It’s torturous. You know if you push your rear out against him, it’ll probably result in a longer wait before he properly pays you the attention you desperately crave. And so you stay just as you are, letting him manipulate your flesh as he so pleases. You can wait, you tell yourself.

Suddenly, he takes one of his hands away, using it to place a hard smack against your ass. You cry out as you feel heat rising where he’s slapping you. It stings and you’re surprised you like it. He watches your body shake, eagerly awaiting more. You clench around nothing as he lands another one. And another. He huffs a laugh, seeing how your body jolts at every strike, continuing to land a few more as he pleases.

He seems satisfied with his work on your behind, raising his hands to your hips once again. He places a soft kiss on your burning skin and then you’re being hurled backwards, landing on his lap.

He immediately starts attacking your neck with tongue and teeth, hands roaming around your stomach to pull you into a comfortable position on him. He then uses them to pull your legs over both of his, spreading them to give himself access to your body.

And he makes sure he makes the most of it. He grabs your tits, letting your head roll onto his shoulder as he continues his assault on your neck. You feel your skin going tender as he sucks harsh spots against the delicate flesh there. You feel the irritation there as his rough beard scratches your skin, with the potential to leave your skin marred.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He whispers between sloppy kisses.

“Gods, please.” You moan in response.

“Where?” He grabs your hand, placing it over his and pressing firmly, letting you guide him wherever you want him. You take his hand down, letting it hover over your trembling cunt. He nips at your jaw. “I thought so.”

He repeats his motion from earlier, pressing a single finger against your clit, but instead of only dipping down to your entrance, he opts to slide an entire finger into you down to his knuckle. Your back tries to arch away from him, but he keeps you locked down against his chest with his spare arm.

He pumps the finger in and out of you, making the most obscene squelching sound from the warm wetness he uses to ease the movements of his digit. Your arms lay useless at the side of you, letting him do all the work to pleasure you.

He adds another finger, scissoring the two of them inside you, stretching you open as he brings his thumb down onto your clit. To go from one lone finger to this makes you cry out, hips spasming from the shock. You can’t help moaning with how he works your pussy, curling his fingers to hit a spot deep inside you that makes you feel dizzy.

“If you keep being so loud people are going to hear you.” He warns.

“Maybe I would like that.” You retort, bucking your hips as far as you can with him restricting your body’s movements.

You feel his cock twitch against you as he snarls into your ear. “Such a filthy girl.” One of his hands begins snaking its way towards your throat, grabbing at it harshly to cut off any noise that tries to escape your mouth. “But as much as I like hearing your pretty sounds, I need you to be quiet.”

The moans get trapped in your throat, and you can’t warn him of your oncoming orgasm. It starts creeping up on you, burning low in the pit of your stomach as his hands work to push you further and further. You hit at the hand on your neck, trying to get him to let you go.

He loosens his grip but the fingers inside you work faster to make you cum. “What is the matter?”

“Close.” Is all you say, the oxygen able to reach your brain again momentarily before he constricts around your neck again.

He nods into your shoulder, kissing you there as he pumps, nudging your clit with his thumb as he does so. The way you make the smallest noises that he feels trying to escape beneath his fingers makes him groan. You’re making him so fucking hard. Your pussy clamps down around his fingers, preparing for your climax when he slows his movements down entirely, sending you spinning away from coming. He removes his fingers from you, bringing them to trace small wet circles around your nipples, as his other hand eases its grip on your throat.

It takes you completely by surprise, only seconds away from finishing when he rips it all away from you. You’re breathless, asking him why he stopped. “I didn't cum.” You tell him.

“No, I know.” He laughs the deepest, filthiest laugh you think you’ve ever heard in your ear. “You’re not coming yet. I want you wetter before I make you cum on my cock.”

The words hit deep inside you, making you clench on instinct. So this is what he wants to do? Prepare you to take him. Or maybe he just likes seeing you squirm and fidget on his lap, completely in control of your body.

Either way, it’s doing wonders to keep you wanting him.

He slowly drops his hand back down, bringing the same two fingers into your warm heat. He leaves your clit alone, focusing all his attention on dragging the rough pads of his fingers against the sweet spot inside you. He curls them, hitting just where you need him to every single time. It’s bliss and before long your walls start fluttering, a sign of your peak.

He feels it. He feels how your pussy starts spasming around his fingers, clenching the very tips of them as he pushes them so fucking deep into you. He loves this. Getting to push you further and further. He wants you begging for him to let you cum. Begging for him to fuck you and let you cum all over him. He wonders how many times he can edge you before he gives in to your sweet little cries and pleading eyes.

Both of you knew it wouldn’t take long for your high to burn back up as quickly as it diminished. It makes you crazed, letting your loud moans fill the hall with nothing around your neck to stop them getting out. He works faster, now knowing how you respond to being so close, pushing his fingers into your opening and using his other hand to absentmindedly play with your tits.

He knows now how to work you up unbearably quick and strip it all away before you're pushed too far - and it’s exactly what he does. As you're sent hurtling forwards towards your high once again, he takes away his fingers, leaving you edged again.

You slump back against him and let your head rest on his shoulder, already exhausted from the whiplash of pleasure and it being stripped away before it’s able to consume you.

He rolls your head towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead. “You’re doing so well.” He praises. He rubs your thighs, waiting for the right time to start playing with your cunt again. It’s surprisingly soothing.

He waits for your breath to become steady and for your body to cool down. You’re worked up beyond belief

Your body’s covered in a cold sweat, worn out from all the edging he’s putting you through. You don’t even know how much more of this you can take. How much more you can tolerate before you take matters into your own hands, giving yourself your own release. It sounds good, but truthfully? Waiting it out for the prospect of being fucked by him? Gods, it sounds a thousand times better. You can’t see it but you can just feel how big he is, his cock pressing hard into your back. You want to feel it stretching you, filling you in a way his fingers fail to achieve.

He decides you must be ready, because he takes two fingers to rub against your clit. Your hips buck up, the nerves in your clit overworked and yet desperate to chase any contact to give them release. Your moans come out frantically, whimpering in your slumped position lying against him as his hot breath fans over your face.

His fingers work around your bud with ease, using the excessive slick you’re producing to slip through your folds. He loves this, watching how your body looks, so worked up. You’re shining with sweat, an icy sheen over your entire body, coating your chest, your legs. Beautiful.

You’re so sensitive and you haven’t even cum. You writhe in his lap, waiting for the moment you feel yourself about to peak and trying to prepare for the eventual fall away from it. You know it’s going to happen. He told you he wants to fuck you through your orgasm, so you know you’re about to be denied three times in a row.

You feel it, again. Your clit becoming more and more needy as his fingertips swirl around it. Your back starts to arch, preparing for a climax that’s not going to happen. You push his hand away on instinct, already accustomed to being denied your high. The quick movement of your hand takes you both by surprise.

You keep a firm grip as your fingers lock around his hand, keeping it held hovered above your pussy. Your eyes flutter closed. You know you can’t take another round of this … whatever it is. Fucking torture.

“You learn fast.” He remarks, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, your orgasm slipping away from you for the third time.

“Please, let me cum.” You plead with him.

“Here, get up.” He helps you to your feet as you stand on weak, shaking legs.

You get up, feeling just how wet you are at the apex of your thighs as they press together for the first time since he pulled you onto his lap. They move together, sticky, as you pad around to face him.

He’s spread out across the chair, just as he was earlier when you saw him. The only difference is the huge bulge in his trousers, and the wet spot - evidence of the messiness between your legs.

He dips his hand below the loose waistband of his trousers, pumping himself without you being able to fully see. With his other hand he pulls you by your hips onto his lap, facing him this time. You place your knees in the free space left on the throne on either side of his legs. You reach your hand to meet his in his trousers and feel how big he is for yourself.

Your hand can barely wrap around his girth. You give him a hard tug, making him grunt. It’s like music to your ears. Finally getting to hear the noises he makes, instead of him pulling the sounds out of you as he denies you. He twitches in your hand as you free him from the confines of his trousers.

And if you couldn’t feel it in your hand, you fucking see it. He’s huge. You bite your lip, anticipating the difficulty you’re going to have letting him fuck you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone this big before, let alone let them inside you.

You look up at him, seeing how smug he looks knowing you’re gobsmacked. He knows he’s impressive. Just knows you’ve never seen a cock that big. He probably knows you’re going to find it hard to take, too.

So you’re determined to take it. And you’re so fucking ready to cum. You need it.

You rise up on your knees, lining him up with your entrance. You're wet enough, but even the nudge of his head against your opening makes your mouth fall open. He pulses in your hand as you stay there, trying to let your cunt adjust to the intrusion.

The way he stretches your tight hole makes it sting. But you can’t help but think it feels fucking amazing - he fills you so well as you sink down onto him. A different kind of pain and pleasure mixture than when his big, warm hands were caressing your shoulders and chest, earlier. It’s not warm and soft like that, it’s blazing hot and fiery, perfect around him as he throbs.

Your hands find their way back onto his chest, confident that he won’t slip out of you by accident. You move up and down on just the top half of his length, taking yourself further down with every jolt of your hips.

The hands on your hips still you as you move down on him. “Do you want me deeper?” He pushes his hips up, nudging his cock further into you by a mere fraction. “Tell me, is that what you want? You need me to fill you?”

Fucking of course it’s what you want, you want to feel him all the way inside you. You want to be able to feel him when you walk tomorrow. You’re just nervous at having to take all of him. “Yes, just go slow.”

He stays holding your hips, lifting his hips up to push into you. He loves watching it. Loves how it feels. How your tight heat clenches around him as he pushes into you. He takes it slow, like you asked, gently lowering you back onto him a little as he watches himself move inside you. You’re almost there and he thrusts the rest of the way into you, burying himself to the hilt.

You mewl, completely filled by him now. You roll your hips against him, feeling every time his head moves against your walls and nudges against your cervix.

“F-Fuck. Bjorn -“ you begin.

He feels your thighs clenching on either side of him, a sign that you’re about to cum. “Do it.” He says. “Cum for me.”

The relief washes over you just as your orgasm does. Your body jolts forward, unable to hold yourself up anymore. You cum hard. So hard. He feels his cock get flooded with more of your arousal as you squeeze him with the flexing muscles in your cunt. Your eyes roll back as you hold yourself against him for security, clutching onto him hoping to ground yourself against something.

He keeps moving his hips against your writhing ones, dragging his cock inside you. It makes you scream. The sound gets muffled against his clothed chest as you crumple into a spent heap on him.

You feel more than hear the guttural moans that escape Bjorn as he feels you coming undone so hard on his lap. The sounds reverberate in his chest underneath you and he holds you close to him. You nuzzle into his chest, letting him take over the movement to chase his peak now that you’ve reached yours.

He meets virtually no resistance from your cunt now, easing in and out with your slick and the slackness that came with your orgasm. He thrusts a few times before starting to hammer into you with zero remorse.

You try to thrash out, but he’s holding you so tight against his chest that there’s nowhere for you to go.

“You didn’t think I was only going to let you cum once, did you?” He growls into your ear. “You worked so hard, you deserve one more.”

Your arms are trapped under the weight of your upper body, all of which is held flush against him as his arms wrap around you. He holds you in place as he brutally fucks up into you, his skin slapping against yours and making the filthiest smacking noises that echo around the empty room.

You relax against him, feeling every inch he buries into you and letting yourself be carried away by the euphoric way he’s making you feel. You swear, no one’s ever made you feel like this.

He notices the way you go slightly limp against him, using the opportunity to keep one arm around you and wedging the other between the two of you. There’s just enough room for him to reach his middle finger up to stroke over your clit in perfect time with his thrusts.

There’s no sound that escapes your mouth when you open it to cry out. Only a hoarse, throaty moan that gets caught somewhere. Tears form at the corners of your eyes as you feel another peak approaching. It’s debilitating. Your cunt's been teased so many times and then allowed to cum, it’s as if it doesn’t know how to deal with the oncoming climax. You clench, drawing higher and higher and higher, waiting to be dropped down to your pleasure.

When you cum, it’s even more brutal than the time before. He has no consideration for your spasming body as his pace never falters, only becoming even easier for him to fuck you now with two orgasms worth of your cum to guide him.

You cry his name out, begging him to cum soon. You don’t know how much more of his savage, relentless thrusts you can take.

“P-perfect. So good.” He replies, losing himself in chasing his high. He can feel himself getting closer. And the way your pussy gets so wet and how you clench so hard around him. Gods, he’s surprised he didn’t cum with you. He has always prided himself on his ability to last, though. “W-won’t - fuck - won’t be long. Want to cum in this cunt.”

Fucking please, you think. You want to feel him fill you in the only way he hasn’t yet.

His movements begin to falter ever-so-slightly, so you know he means it when he says he’s close. He tries to get a few more good, deep thrusts into you before he cums. He lasts for maybe five or six more.

Everything about him is big and excessive. Big hands, broad shoulders, big cock. And even his fucking load is huge. He pushes into you as he spurts his cum, feeling it drip down his cock and drilling it back into you as he tries to keep fucking you while he cums.

He sounds so good moaning in your ear, louder than he’s been moaning this entire time. The noises he makes are gorgeous - low, husky groans right next to you.

He drops his hips down, but even still half his length is still buried inside you. You feel his cum leak out of you, probably mixed with some of your own wetness. And he, in turn, feels it run down his cock, dripping down onto his balls.

You’re both left breathless and completely exhausted. He rests on the chair, one of his arms still haphazardly thrown around you, the other hanging over the arm of the throne. You lie on top of him, still curling your upper body to huddle into the warmth of his chest.

He clears his throat. “I must confess something." He begins. You lift your head up slightly to look at him. The sweat gleams on his forehead, dripping down from his temples. "I have heard the demands of the Gods. And they demand a queen for Kattegat.”

Your eyes go wide, not that he can see.

“So,” he sweeps the hand on your back upwards, coming to hold your face as he asks you one final question. “How would you like to be Queen?”