#do you see the red string and pins in your mind's eye?

[a-heart-of-kyber]

No, no cuz listen.

@dealingdreams and I have discussed how Qimir/The Stranger gives trapped animal vibes. And she mentioned how maybe it was something similar to Ben wherein someone spoke to him from a young age in his mind.

(Kylo theme plays in the distance)

(It literally also played while Kelnacca...had someone else...in his head.)

And idk where, but someone pointed out that his cave has those Cortosis veins. So it, or maybe even the whole island, potentially has a similar veil of protection as the helmet aka blocking thoughts/energy etc.

Which means, if that's the case, this dude is hiding and has been hiding for a long time.

He only seemed to take on the "Qimir smuggler rat man" persona because Mae wasn't doing what she was supposed too and he wasn't even sensed by the Jedi in the force. Overall, he probably assumed he had laid low long enough to go unnoticed without the helmet.

Then he made himself very obvious, and if someone were looking/feeling/sensing they probably found him. Aka, his display on Khofar led Plagueis to the Unknown Planet.

Cuz remember...the helmet broke. He didn't have it on for hours after that fight.

I am personally not going to assume EU stuff is canon until it is made canon. So, while it could be Bal'Demnic, that has not been confirmed. Additionally, just because it could be Bal'Demnic it doesn't mean Plagueis has tapped that resource yet. It could still be unknown to even him until right now.

Now, whatever happened between Qimir and Vernestra, we know she thought he was dead. Aka, he was either actually dead or very close to dead.

(Additionally, this would mean that he initially had no reason to hide from her if he could assume she thinks him dead. So, if he has been hiding, he's been hiding from someone else.)

Plagueis most likely scooped that boy up and treated him like a science project for a bit. Screwing with him mentally in the process (a nice bit of further Sith ideological brainwashing). Then, of course, Qimir became the Apprentice.

(This would make him a bit of an analog of Darth Venamis. Far from the same, but taking bits of him...but also, surviving/escaping being an experiment.)

Which could mean he has been fed the Sith code and the Jedi code by those masters, but he has already had traumatic experiences with Both sides...leading to this lack of care for rules/wanting freedom.

(Aka Power of Two, not Rule of Two "rules rules rules if you never follow them, you never have to break them.")

And Qimir has repeatedly been compared to a Vampire in interviews and has comments and imagery within the narrative that lean that way as well.

(The floating/disappearing, "it was a very long time ago", the implication that when Sol knew him Sol was probably a child...being carried away in a swarm of bats-I mean moths)

I know so many people think Plagueis is involved with Osha and Mae...but I don't think he is, yet.

At the moment, I still think he's there for Qimir.

(Also, I'm not really pro having this guy show up for 3 seconds and suddenly literally everything is about him and he did it all. If he already did everything, where is he meant to go within the narrative exactly? If he already knows how to create life and Has Created Life?...anyways)

I think he's checking in on his potentially immortal or at least inhumanly long-lived test subject... I mean Apprentice (who may or may not have actually been resurrected). And, somehow, said Apprentice has linked up with a woman who was created using the force.

These two are literally Plagueis's version of Christmas.

P.S. I think he wants an acolyte for exactly the reasons he said. We have been repeatedly shown and told that Qimir/The Stranger speaks the truth...or, at least, his truth.

But...this doesn't necessarily disprove my other idea that he wants to draw out Vernestra have her go against Plagueis so he does not have to do that.

Going back to the idea that both of these Masters are powerful and they have both screwed him up royally.

And despite this, he can still fight blind in the force.

He is extremely balanced for someone who realistically shouldn't be if he's fully dark.

[lomlhwa]

mommy (j.wy)

pairing: sex worker!wooyoung x client!reader

preview: you really wanna be a mom, but you don't wanna be tied to a man. so you find a service that offers impregnation with no strings.

tags/warnings: fem reader, exhibitionism (fucking in a very not private room), bondage, mating press, so much breeding, lots of talk about making the reader a mom (of course), masochism, degrading + praise, sir kink, choking, hand kink, pet names (princess, angel, baby), wooyo tries to be professional and fails, so much dirty talk, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.6k

song recs for this fic: i need u by bts

a/n: someone requested this but i'm not gonna put them on blast (you know who you are)

the sterile environment of the fertility clinic was nothing less than uninviting. the bright fluorescent lights were nauseating to say the least. it almost made you wanna turn around and change your mind, but the secretary spotted you before you could make a run for it. “who are you here to see, ma’am?” she asks you, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “um, jung wooyoung.” she scrolls through her computer before finding your appointment. “ah, miss y/n. you’re his 4pm to 6pm?” she asks and you nod. she clicks her tongue before picking up the phone sitting on the desk and dialing a short set of numbers. you hear the sound of the intercom beeping before she speaks. “jung wooyoung to the lobby, please.” 

before you know it, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen comes sauntering into the lobby. “you paged me, mrs. na?” she raises her hand and points at you with her bright red acrylic nail. his eyes follow her finger until he reaches you. “she’s your next client. she’s here for the all-in.” a smirk forms on his face as he turns to face you. “hello, i’m wooyoung. please follow me back to our room.” you nod and walk towards the door he entered through. “enjoy your service,” the secretary says, not even looking up from her computer. your hands tremble while holding your purse in your hands and walking down the hallway. 

wooyoung pushes open a glass door, leading to a room solely adorned with a bed and a nightstand. you spin around to find a coat stand and place your purse and sweater on one of its hooks. when you turn back around to the bed, you find wooyoung staring at you with blown pupils.”have you signed all the paperwork?” you rock back and forth on your heels as you nod. “i know that mrs. na said you’re here for the “all-in”, but i need you to verbally specify what you’re here for,” he instructs. he leans back on his palms, raising his hips slightly to adjust how he’s sitting. you curse god for the way wooyoung’s grey sweatpants sit on his body. “um, i would like to be a mother. but, i don’t have a partner, nor do i want to be tied to someone for this process. so, i guess i’m here for you to um, get me pregnant.” your voice lowers at the last part, still feeling incredibly embarrassed that this is the way you’re spending your saturday afternoon. 

wooyoung rises off of the bed and walks over to you. “you understand this is a completely professional exchange then? nothing done or said means anything?” when he runs his finger over your bottom lip, you start seriously reconsidering your decision. but it’s too late to turn back now. “i understand.” another smirk flashes over his face before he moves out of the way. “well princess, on the bed with your legs spread. i wanna see how this pretty skirt bunches at your waist.” your feet move as if they have a mind of their own, rushing to get yourself thrown on the bed. wooyoung groans at the sight of your compliant body following his every command.

he slots himself between your legs, running two fingers over your slit through your underwear. your hands move to grip his arm and he's quick to pin you down. “professional means you don’t touch.” he leans over you, grinding his hardening cock against your core as he reaches into the nightstand. he pulls out a pretty pink ribbon, waving it in your face. “i’m gonna tie your hands to the headboard since you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” before you can protest or fake promise not to do it again, your wrists are crossed and bound together. you struggle against your restraints as wooyoung ghosts his fingers down your sides, goosebumps following his path. 

“much better. i like you like this. so perfect and compliant.” you turn your head away from his dominant gaze, your cheeks heating up. he bucks his hips against yours and a small whimper escapes your lips. you bite your lip to try and suppress any further noise threatening to leave your throat. wooyoung grabs you by the jaw and forces you to face him once more before landing a hard slap across your face. “sluts don’t get to look away from the one who’s going to fuck them.” your cheek stings as wooyoung looks at you with fake pity. 

“from this point forward, you will refer to me as ‘sir’, got it?” you press your lips into a thin line before nodding. you hadn’t realized you had booked the kinkiest worker in this establishment. “words, princess.” your face flushes before you respond; “yes, sir.” a wide, toothy grin takes over his face as he leans down to kiss you. his plump lips envelop yours, pressing his entire body against yours. the kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongue. you tug desperately against your restraints, desperate to feel more of him. you grind your hips up against him and his hands fly to your hips and slam them back down. “bad girl.” 

you whine, a frown forming on your face. wooyoung removes himself from between your legs to pull your underwear off from under your skirt. “i don’t wanna take this cute skirt off of you. i love how slutty you look in it.” he admires you for a moment, drinking in your appearance. suddenly, you realize that behind wooyoung, there’s a large window with no curtains drawn over it. your legs snap shut as someone walks by the room, despite them not even looking into the room. wooyoung clicks his tongue and shakes his head, tilting his head to the side. “everyone’s used to what happens in this room, angel. don’t get insecure now.” he grabs both of your knees and forces your legs back open. 

wooyoung pulls his sweatpants and boxers down to mid-thigh, letting his cock finally spring free. your jaw drops at the sight. you had read his profile online, and it was adorned with a bright red size warning. a company policy you assumed. but you had seriously underestimated how badly he needed the warning. “scared, baby? don’t worry, i’ll make it fit.” you shake your head, staring at him with wide eyes. “it won’t fit, it won’t,” you babble and he hushes you. “i’ve got you. your pretty cunt is gonna suck me in so perfectly. sluts know how to take dick, right?” biting your bottom lip, you stare at him with a worried expression. “y-yes, sir.” 

he brings his hand to his cock, aligning it with your entrance. your body tenses at the feeling of finally getting to what you truly came for. “i’m gonna breed you so well, princess.” his jaw falls slack as he bottoms out into you. “fuck you so full of my cum so that you have no choice but to get pregnant.” you tug so hard against the ribbon tying you down that you worry it might rip your skin open. wooyoung takes his time with the first few strokes, drinking in the way you feel and how your body reacts to him. he admires the way your eyes cross and your hips stutter every time he rolls his hips. “p-please let me t-touch you, sir,” you plead in a soft, high pitched voice. in this moment, wooyoung loses it. he reaches over you to untie your wrists, holding them in his hands. he sees how bruised you are and presses kisses to your wrists. 

your arms rest on his shoulders and you tangle your fingers in his hair. he shoves his face in your neck, panting like a dog. “i know i said this was professional, but you’re so pretty i’m already so close.” he pulls away from you and connects his hand to your throat. his long fingers wrap around your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your vision blurry. “c-cumming oh my god, i’m gonna cum,” you manage to barely get those words out before wooyoung folds you in half and forces you into the mating press. “you’re gonna be such a good mom. you’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my kid. oh, you clenched so hard at that, you like when i talk to you like this, don’t you? you little slut.” your legs begin to shake as he drives you over the edge, your orgasm making your vision go white. 

“just a little more baby, i’m gonna fuck you through it. i’m gonna fill you up so well.” a pout forms on your puffy lips as your body stings from overstimulation. he presses kisses all over your face as his hips stutter. finally, he releases inside you, painting your walls white. he chants praises and compliments as he empties himself out. he pulls out slowly, quick to shove two fingers into your hole to plug his cum inside. he leans down awkwardly to grab your panties and helpy ou put them back on to catch what drips out of you. 

he pulls his pants and boxers back up to his hips before speaking. “it’s now 6pm. your session is over. take a test in a month and a half to two months. call the clinic if it fails and you may be eligible for a free second session.” he presses his lips into a thin line before continuing. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone before handing it to you.”i’m not supposed to do this, but please give me your number.” you smile and type out your number before handing his phone back to him. 

you can see his smile as he walks out, leaving you to your own devices. you struggle a little to walk but manage eventually. the secretary gives you a knowing smile as she sees you wobble out. “have a good night, ma’am.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[strangelysamantha]

practice ✧

bestfriend!eddie munson x reader.

warnings: nsfw, blowjob, dirty talk

summary: asking best friend eddie if you could practice sucking his dick for your date

a/n: masterlist is pinned! like if you enjoy! requests are open

------------------------------------------------

"i'm embarrassed." you firmly press your lips into a line. "why are you nervous to tell me?" eddie asks. you shy away, unable to admit what's going through your mind. "i just," you hesitate. "cmon, you can talk to me." you nod, "well i'm going on a date, and i'm not that good at head." he hides his smirk and allows you to continue. "what if we get to that point, and i don't even know what to do with it?" you scratch your neck, "well i'm sure it will come naturally." eddie states. you smile brightly, a genius idea forming your cloudy thoughts. "what if i practice on you?" he is shocked that those foul words came out of your pretty mouth.

"are you sure?" he questions, uneasy. he wanted to do it, but he didn't want you to possibly regret it or worse, make things weird. you contemplate. "practice makes perfect, doesn't it?" you smile. he laughs, "okay." you move to the ground, sitting on your knees. "what do i do?" you ask. "well first you have to get me worked up, turn me on." you nod. you lean forward, pressing your lips on his. he's caught off guard, unaware that you'd make that move. he kisses back hungrily, as if a part of him had been waiting for this moment.

you lower your hand to his thigh, slowly making your way up to undo his pants buckle. his breath hitches, as he watches you take control. you undo his belt, unbutton his pants, and pull his zipper down. he's looking down on you, you pull out his length, placing a kiss at his tip. "now that it is ready, you're gonna open your mouth real wide." he grips your chin, forcing your mouth open. "good girl. wrap your lips around me." you lower your mouth around his cock. using your saliva to lessen the friction, you start to lick around him. he throws his head back, his hands desperately grabbing you. "it feels so good. see, you didn't even need practice." you giggle, taking him out of your mouth. "i still wanted to practice on you." your words cling to his heart; his mouth is hung open slightly. "is that so?" you nod, "yes, isn't this fun?" you stroke his length, looking deep into his eyes. before he can think of a response, you work his length again. you take as much as you can of him in the back of your throat. he grips the back of your neck, his hips carelessly rutting against your face. "fuck, baby." you use your hands to jerk what couldn't fit in your mouth.

he's crumbling beneath you from the pleasure, his eyes are on your every move, determined to remember everything about this instance. you take him out of your mouth to breathe again, you jerk him. "you're really good at this." he compliments, and you gleam, "thank you." you go down on him again, working hard to get him to his climax. "can you cum for me, eds?" he groans at your words. you spit on his cock, looking up at him. "i want to cum baby, keep going." you do as he asked, working him with urgency. he moans. you keep the same pace, sticking your tongue out. he lets out a low groan, strings of his cum drench your face. his chest is heaving, his face red. you head to his bathroom to clean your face off.

you join him again, "thank you for teaching me how to give head." he chuckles, "i barely helped you." you shrug. "damn that guy is going to be lucky." you grin, looking away. he looks at you for a moment, "what?" he quirks. "what if i told you, there wasn't a date?" he leans back, shock settling over him. "why did you ask for advice then?" you bluntly admit, "i just wanted an excuse to suck your dick." he smiles brightly, "y'know you could have just asked."

"i didn't know how to bring it up." he shakes his head. "you are just full of surprises." you decide to be bold, so you lean forward and initiate a kiss. he kisses back, his hands wrapping around your waist. he lifts you up, pulling you on his lap. you run your hands through his hair, he softly bites your lip before pulling away. "i really like you." he states. "i really like you, eddie." he smirks, "can i take you on a date?" you bite your lip, trying to hide your smile. "i would love that." you spent the rest of the night cuddling and talking with eddie.

<3

[novaursa]

Legacy (long live the king)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Paring: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Note: Be aware how the timeline is all over the place and canon doesn't quite match some events of the story.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: strings of time

- Next part: what was promised

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @luniaxi

The Red Keep was quiet that morning, the soft hum of activity muted as you made your way through the winding halls toward Sansa’s chambers. The air smelled faintly of salt and stone, a familiar scent that seemed to linger in every corner of the fortress. You had waited a few days after the marriage between Sansa and Tyrion, giving her space to adjust to the reality of her situation. But now, your concern for her outweighed the necessity of distance.

Ser Barristan followed you closely, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword as always. His presence was a comfort, though you had grown so accustomed to it that you barely noticed him anymore. The two Lannister guards Tywin insisted on also trailed behind at a respectful distance.

As you reached Sansa’s chamber door, you heard the faint rustling of fabric and soft footsteps beyond. You lifted your hand to knock, but before you could, the door opened, revealing a young woman in simple garments, her hair pinned neatly back.

Shae.

The recognition was instant. You’d seen her before, flitting around Sansa as one of her attendants, her presence always discreet but strangely attentive. She froze when she saw you, her eyes widening briefly before she quickly lowered her gaze, her posture stiff.

“My lady,” she said awkwardly, dipping into a shallow curtsy. Her voice was polite, but there was a stiffness in her tone that didn’t escape your notice.

“Shae,” you greeted evenly, inclining your head slightly. “I see you’ve been attending to Lady Sansa.”

“Yes, my lady,” she replied, her words rushed. “I was just… bringing her fresh linens. She’s resting now.”

Her unease was visible, her hands fidgeting with the fabric of her skirts. You studied her for a moment, noting the way her gaze flitted away from yours, unable to hold it for long. There was something guarded in her demeanor, something that hinted at more than the role she claimed.

“Good,” you said finally, your tone calm but edged with curiosity. “Sansa needs someone she can trust.”

Shae nodded quickly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Of course, my lady. I do everything I can for her.”

You let the silence stretch for a moment, watching as she shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. It wasn’t uncommon for people to act this way around you—your Targaryen blood, your place in the Red Keep, and your closeness to Sansa all carried weight that unsettled many. But with Shae, it felt different. More personal.

“Thank you for your service,” you said finally, your voice softening slightly. “Sansa speaks well of you.”

Shae blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she nodded again. “Thank you, my lady. I’ll… I’ll leave you to her now.”

She stepped aside quickly, her head bowed as she brushed past you. You watched her retreating form for a moment, your mind turning over what you knew—or suspected—about her. Her relationship with Tyrion was no secret to you, though you had never spoken of it. It was not your place, nor did you see any benefit in bringing it to light. But her discomfort in your presence was something you could not ignore.

“Interesting,” you murmured under your breath as you turned back to the chamber door. Ser Barristan gave you a questioning glance, but you shook your head slightly, dismissing his unspoken query.

You knocked gently on the door and waited for Sansa’s soft voice to call out, “Come in.” When you entered, you found her seated by the window, the morning light casting a golden glow over her auburn hair. She looked up at you with a faint smile, though her eyes were tired, shadows lingering beneath them.

“My lady,” she said, rising to her feet. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

You crossed the room quickly, taking her hands in yours and guiding her back to her seat. “Sansa, please. There’s no need to stand for me.”

She allowed herself to be seated, her smile growing a little warmer. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you,” you replied, pulling a chair closer to sit beside her. “How have you been?”

Sansa hesitated, her gaze dropping to her lap. “I… I’m fine,” she said quietly, though her voice lacked conviction.

You frowned slightly, leaning closer. “Sansa, you don’t need to lie to me. I know this has been difficult for you.”

Her lips trembled, and for a moment, you thought she might cry. But she took a deep breath, steadying herself before meeting your gaze. “Tyrion has been kind,” she said softly. “More than I expected. But it’s still… hard. Everything feels so wrong.”

You squeezed her hands gently, your voice filled with compassion. “I know. And I’m sorry. You deserved better than this.”

She shook her head, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “It’s not your fault. It’s just… it’s all too much sometimes.”

You reached out, brushing the tear away with a gentle touch. “You’re stronger than you know, Sansa. You’ve endured so much already, and you’ll endure this too. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

She nodded, her expression softening as she leaned into your touch. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

Then, in a quieter voice, she asked, “Do you think… do you think it will ever get better?”

You hesitated, knowing the answer she wanted but unable to lie to her. “I think it will take time,” you said carefully. “But you have allies, Sansa. People who care for you. Hold onto that.”

The room was modest by the standards of the Red Keep, tucked away in a quieter wing where the hum of courtly life was less invasive. You shifted in your chair, trying to find a comfortable position as your swollen belly made even the simplest task a challenge. Olenna Tyrell sat across from you, her sharp eyes glinting with their usual mix of amusement and calculation. To your irritation, Petyr Baelish lingered nearby, leaning casually against the stone wall, his lips curved in a faint, knowing smirk.

“This is an… interesting gathering,” you remarked, folding your hands neatly over your lap. “I wasn’t aware I’d been summoned for such unique company.”

Olenna chuckled, the sound dry but warm. “My dear, you flatter us. And here I thought you’d be delighted to spend time with two of the most intriguing minds in the capital.”

You arched an eyebrow, glancing briefly at Baelish before returning your attention to Olenna. “Intriguing, perhaps. But intrigue can be exhausting, and I’m in no mood for games.”

Olenna’s smile widened, and she leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on the head of her cane. “Very well, I’ll spare you the pleasantries. I love my granddaughter, you see. Margaery is as clever as she is beautiful, and she will make an excellent queen. But the king…” Her expression soured, and her voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone. “Joffrey is a menace. He’s dangerous, unstable, and entirely unsuited for the throne.”

Your gaze narrowed slightly, though you kept your tone neutral. “I cannot argue with that assessment. But why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” Olenna said, her eyes locking onto yours, “Joffrey is not just a threat to my granddaughter. He’s a threat to the realm, to all of us. Including you and your child.”

At her words, your hand instinctively moved to rest on your belly. The thought of Joffrey’s unhinged malice extending toward your unborn child sent a shiver through you, but you kept your composure. “I’ve no doubt he poses a danger to everyone around him,” you said carefully. “But what do you expect me to do about it?”

Olenna smiled faintly, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I don’t expect you to do anything, my dear. I simply thought you’d like to know where certain parties stand.”

Baelish chose this moment to speak, his voice smooth and unhurried. “The queen-to-be is beloved, and her marriage will solidify her position. But with a king like Joffrey, beloved can quickly turn to forgotten, or worse. Surely, Lady Lannister, you understand the importance of securing the future for those we care about.”

You turned your gaze to him, your expression cool. “Spare me the riddles, Lord Baelish. If you have something to say, say it plainly.”

Baelish smirked, his head tilting slightly. “I merely observe. And my observations tell me that those who act swiftly tend to find themselves… in better positions.”

Olenna waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, enough, Petyr. She doesn’t need your oily little hints.” Her sharp gaze returned to you, softening slightly. “You’re here because you’re intelligent, my dear. And I value intelligence in a city that seems to have it in such short supply.”

You tilted your head, curiosity flickering in your expression. “And what exactly do you want from me, Lady Olenna?”

Olenna leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly on the head of her cane. “Nothing… yet. But tell me, what do you know of a certain poison called the strangler?”

The room seemed to grow quieter at her question, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Baelish’s smirk grew more pronounced, his eyes darting between you and Olenna with barely concealed amusement.

You met Olenna’s gaze steadily, your mind racing as you considered your response. Whatever game she was playing, it was clear you were now a part of it.

The grand hall of the Red Keep was resplendent, its banners and tapestries shimmering in the warm glow of countless candles. The air was heavy with the mingling scents of roasted meats, fresh bread, and spiced wine as the royal wedding celebration reached its peak. You sat beside Tywin, your back straight, your hands carefully folded over the swell of your belly. The weight of your pregnancy was a constant presence, but you refused to let it compromise your regal posture.

The crown of your braided hair shimmered faintly in the light, and you wore a deep crimson gown trimmed with gold, an unmistakable nod to your Targaryen heritage now blended with the Lannister lion. Tywin, ever composed, sat beside you, his expression an impassive mask as he observed the festivities. His sharp gaze missed nothing, though his attention occasionally flicked to you.

You let your eyes sweep over the hall, first landing on Olenna Tyrell, who sat further down the high table. The old woman caught your glance, her sharp eyes twinkling with mischief, and she gave you the faintest of nods. You inclined your head slightly in return, a silent acknowledgment of her presence before shifting your gaze to where Sansa and Tyrion sat.

Sansa’s expression was a mask of polite detachment, her hands folded tightly in her lap, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of sadness. Tyrion sat beside her, his goblet of wine barely touched, his mouth set in a grim line as he observed the revelry. Your heart ached for the girl who had once been like a sister to you, though you knew no comforting words could ease her current predicament.

Further along the table, you noticed Cersei, seated beside Tywin’s other side, her expression one of carefully cultivated disdain. Her green eyes occasionally flicked to you, though she said nothing, her attention mostly focused on the goblet of wine in her hand.

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Jaime, newly returned to the capital after his long captivity. He stood near the edge of the hall, his golden hand gleaming in the light as he exchanged a few quiet words with Ser Loras Tyrell. His presence was both familiar and strange, the absence of his sword hand a glaring reminder of how much had changed. He caught your gaze briefly, his expression unreadable before he turned his attention back to his conversation.

The royal couple was at the center of the hall, all eyes on them. Joffrey, resplendent in his golden tunic and crown, basked in the attention like a vain peacock, his laughter grating and overly loud. Margaery, ever the diplomat, played her role flawlessly, her smiles radiant, though her eyes occasionally flickered with calculated coolness. The crowd roared with approval as Joffrey raised his goblet to toast the union, his words dripping with arrogance as he mocked anyone and everyone who dared challenge his rule.

You shifted slightly in your seat, feeling a sudden, sharp pang in your abdomen. Your breath caught for a moment, and your hand instinctively rested on your belly. The pain subsided quickly, leaving only a faint ache, but it was enough to unsettle you.

“Is something wrong?” Tywin’s low voice broke through your thoughts, his sharp eyes already fixed on you.

You shook your head, forcing a faint smile to your lips. “All is well,” you replied quietly, your tone steady. “Just the usual discomforts.”

Tywin’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he nodded and turned his attention back to the proceedings. Despite his composed exterior, you could tell he was watching you closely, his concern evident in the way his hand rested subtly closer to yours on the table.

The hall erupted into applause as the wedding pie was brought in, a massive confection wheeled out by servants, its crust decorated with golden lions and roses. The guests leaned forward in anticipation, their cheers growing louder as the spectacle approached the high table.

You sat back slightly, allowing the momentary distraction to draw attention away from you. Your hand brushed over your belly again, the earlier pang still lingering faintly in your mind. You stole another glance at Sansa, who was watching the pie with detached politeness, her hands trembling slightly. Olenna, meanwhile, observed the scene with a faint smirk, her cane resting beside her as she leaned slightly forward.

As Joffrey stood, gesturing dramatically for his sword to cut the pie, you felt the weight of the moment settle over the room. You exchanged a brief look with Tywin, who raised an eyebrow as if to silently ask if you were still well. You gave him the faintest of nods, determined not to let anything mar the carefully constructed image of composure you had worked so hard to maintain.

The pie was set before the king, its golden crust glinting in the light as Joffrey raised his sword, a gleeful grin spreading across his face. The crowd held its breath in anticipation, and you felt a dread in the air that went far beyond the spectacle itself.

The young king held his sword aloft, grinning like a child about to open a prized gift. Margaery stood beside him, ever the picture of grace, her hands delicately clasped as she encouraged the crowd’s cheers with her radiant smile.

The blade came down with a dramatic flourish, slicing through the pie. A flurry of pigeons erupted into the air, their frantic wings scattering crumbs and flour as they soared over the assembled guests. Laughter and applause echoed through the hall, the spectacle delighting the nobles as Joffrey puffed out his chest, basking in their adulation.

Margaery reached out to pluck a piece of pie and lifted it to Joffrey’s mouth, her expression demure as she fed him. The young king accepted it with exaggerated relish, chewing loudly as the crowd continued to cheer. A goblet of wine was handed to Margaery by a servant standing near Olenna, and she, in turn, presented it to Joffrey with a delicate bow.

Your eyes flicked to Olenna for a fleeting moment, catching the faintest twitch of her lips as she turned her attention back to the spectacle. A chill ran down your spine as you realized what was about to unfold.

At the same time, another sharp pain shot through your abdomen, this one far more intense than before. You stifled a gasp, your hand flying to your belly as the sensation nearly stole your breath. Beside you, Tywin’s hand immediately found yours, his sharp gaze snapping to your face.

“What is it?” he asked in a low, urgent tone, his other hand already bracing your arm.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were lost as the scene before you erupted into chaos.

Joffrey froze mid-laugh, his expression contorting into one of confusion and pain. His hand flew to his throat as he stumbled backward, knocking over the goblet of wine. The crowd’s cheers faltered, confusion rippling through the hall as the young king began to gag violently. His face turned a sickly shade of purple, and his eyes bulged as he clawed at his neck.

“Joffrey!” Cersei’s scream pierced the air as she rushed toward her son, her golden gown billowing behind her. She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands fluttering uselessly as she tried to help him. “What’s happening? Help him! Someone help him!”

The hall descended into chaos. Lords and ladies stood from their seats, some frozen in shock, others shouting orders or calling for the maesters. Guards pushed through the crowd, their armor clanking as they fought to reach the king.

Tywin rose to his feet, his hand never leaving yours as he pulled you up beside him. His tall frame loomed protectively over you as his sharp eyes scanned the room, assessing the situation with cold efficiency. “Stay close,” he commanded, his voice low but firm.

Another wave of pain rippled through you, this time so intense that you couldn’t suppress the gasp that escaped your lips. Your knees buckled slightly, and Tywin caught you immediately, his arm wrapping around your waist. His gaze snapped to your face, his eyes narrowing as realization dawned.

“You’re in labor,” he said, his tone clipped but tinged with alarm.

You nodded weakly, clutching his arm as another contraction seized you. The cacophony of the hall faded into the background as your world narrowed to the pain coursing through your body and the steady presence of Tywin beside you.

“Come,” he said decisively, his hand tightening around yours. “We’re leaving.”

Before you could protest, he began to guide you out of the hall, his movements quick but discreet. The guards who had been stationed nearby fell into step behind you, forming a protective barrier as Tywin led you toward the exit.

Behind you, the chaos in the hall reached a fever pitch as Joffrey convulsed on the floor, foam and blood spilling from his mouth. Cersei’s screams echoed through the space, her voice raw with grief and fury as she cradled her dying son.

“Don’t let anyone leave!” Cersei shrieked, her voice cutting through the noise. “He’s been poisoned! Find who did this!”

Tywin didn’t look back, his focus entirely on you as he guided you through the corridors of the Red Keep. Your breaths came in short, shallow gasps as the contractions grew stronger, each one threatening to overwhelm you.

“You should have told me,” Tywin said sharply, though his tone was tempered by the urgency of the situation. “You should have said something sooner.”

“There was no time,” you managed between breaths, gripping his arm tightly as another wave of pain hit.

Tywin muttered something under his breath, his expression hardening as he quickened his pace. “You’ll be taken to your chambers,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ll have the maester brought to you immediately.”

You nodded weakly, too focused on the mounting pain to argue. The world around you blurred as Tywin’s strong arm guided you forward, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos.

By the time you reached your chambers, the shouts and cries from the hall had faded into the distance. Tywin eased you into a chair, his hand lingering on your shoulder as he barked orders to the guards outside.

“Fetch Pycelle,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “And send for the midwives.”

As the door closed behind him, Tywin knelt briefly at your side, his hand brushing yours. “You’ll be fine,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “Do you hear me? You’ll be fine.”

You nodded, gripping his hand tightly as the pain consumed you, trusting in his presence even as the world around you seemed to tilt into chaos.

The air was filled with the scent of herbs and sweat as your labor dragged on, each hour stretching endlessly as the midwives moved around you like shadows, their voices low and soothing. You gripped the edge of the sturdy wooden chair, pacing slowly across the room, refusing to give in to the pain that racked your body.

Your breaths came in sharp bursts, but you swallowed down every scream, refusing to let the agony reduce you to helplessness. A low yelp escaped your lips, and you bit down hard, your nails digging into the back of the chair as you braced yourself against the next contraction. The midwives followed you like silent sentinels, their hands hovering near but never daring to touch unless you allowed it.

Pycelle stood awkwardly to the side, his gray beard quivering as he wrung his hands. “My lady,” he began, his voice wheedling and nasal, “this is highly irregular. You should be lying down. I must examine you to ensure—”

“Out,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended, though the pain lent it an edge you couldn’t temper. “You will not touch me, Pycelle. I will not have your hands near me.”

Pycelle flinched but recovered quickly, turning his imploring gaze to Tywin, who stood near the hearth with his arms crossed, his sharp eyes fixed on you like a hawk watching its prey. “Lord Tywin,” Pycelle said, his voice bordering on desperation, “surely you understand the danger of allowing this to proceed without my expertise.”

Tywin didn’t even glance at him, his voice low and firm as he replied, “You will remain where you are, Pycelle. She has made her wishes clear.”

“But—” Pycelle began, only to be silenced by the slightest flicker of Tywin’s gaze in his direction, cold and unyielding.

The maester’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but he wisely said no more, retreating to a corner of the room to stew in his indignation.

The contractions grew stronger, each one a wave of fire and steel that left you gripping the chair until your knuckles turned white. The midwives murmured encouragements, their hands deft as they prepared towels and basins of water. You moved methodically, pacing the chamber to distract yourself from the pain, your breaths hissing between clenched teeth.

“Lady Y/N,” one of the midwives said softly, “you’re progressing well. It won’t be much longer now.”

You nodded tersely, unable to summon the strength for words. Tywin remained silent, his presence a steady anchor in the room. You felt his gaze on you, assessing, calculating, but also something else—concern, perhaps, though he would never admit it.

A soft knock at the door broke the tense rhythm of the room. Ser Barristan opened it slightly, allowing Varys to slip inside, his silk robes whispering against the stone floor. His expression was unreadable, though his eyes carried a hint of urgency as he approached Tywin.

“My lord,” Varys said in a low voice, inclining his head slightly. “May I have a word?”

Tywin hesitated, his eyes flickering to you. You met his gaze briefly, nodding faintly to indicate you could manage without him for a moment. With a curt nod, he followed Varys out of the room, the door closing softly behind them.

In the corridor, the air was cooler, the sounds of the bustling keep faint in the distance. Tywin turned to Varys, his expression hard. “Speak.”

Varys leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “The queen regent has accused your son Tyrion of poisoning King Joffrey. He has been arrested and taken to the dungeons.”

Tywin’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained calm. “And Lady Sansa?”

Varys hesitated, his hands clasped in front of him. “Gone, my lord. There is no trace of her. It seems she fled the Red Keep shortly after the chaos began.”

A flicker of irritation crossed Tywin’s face, though he quickly masked it. “And how is the queen?”

“Distraught, as you can imagine,” Varys replied, his tone neutral. “She demands swift justice. She believes Tyrion acted out of ambition, though… I am not certain she truly believes it. The accusation is convenient, nothing more.”

Tywin exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing. “I will deal with it. Ensure that no further word of Lady Sansa’s disappearance spreads for now. The last thing we need is more speculation.”

“Of course, my lord,” Varys said, bowing slightly. “And… the lady within?” He glanced toward the door leading to your chambers.

“She will deliver safely,” Tywin said curtly, though there was a flicker of something softer in his tone. “Her child is my priority.”

Varys nodded, his expression unreadable as he straightened. “As you say, my lord. I shall see to it that the necessary measures are taken.”

Tywin watched him go, his mind already turning over the implications of Sansa’s disappearance and the precarious situation unfolding in the wake of Joffrey’s death. But for now, his focus was on you, the woman carrying his legacy. With a final glance down the corridor, he re-entered the chamber, his gaze immediately seeking you out as another contraction gripped your body.

You looked up at him, your face pale but determined, and for a moment, the chaos of the outside world seemed far away. Tywin crossed the room, standing at your side as the midwives worked diligently, his presence a silent promise of unwavering resolve.

The labor dragged on into the deep hours of the night. The room felt stifling now. You lay on the bed, propped up by pillows, your body drenched in sweat as the contractions came faster and harder. The midwives hovered around you, still murmuring words of encouragement, while Pycelle stood off to the side, his face drawn and pale with irritation.

“My lady,” Pycelle began again, his voice quivering with that patronizing tone you had come to loathe, “you must allow me to intervene. It is my duty to ensure—”

“Your duty?” you snapped, your voice sharp despite the pain coursing through you. Your hand gripped the edge of the bed, your knuckles white. “Your duty failed my mother. You call yourself a maester, yet you stood by while she suffered through endless labors—while her children died! I will not let you touch me.”

Pycelle flinched at the venom in your words, his beard trembling as he drew himself up. “That was many years ago, my lady,” he protested weakly. “I have gained much experience since then.”

“Enough,” Tywin cut in, his voice cold and final as he stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed. His sharp gaze pinned Pycelle in place. “She has made her wishes clear. You will not interfere unless absolutely necessary.”

Pycelle opened his mouth as if to argue but thought better of it, his jaw snapping shut with an audible click. He shuffled back into his corner once more, muttering under his breath.

Another contraction hit, and you bit down hard on the scream that threatened to escape, a low growl rumbling in your throat instead. The midwives rushed to your side, dabbing your forehead with a damp cloth and urging you to breathe through the pain.

“You’re doing well, my lady,” one of them said softly, her voice soothing. “It won’t be much longer now.”

You nodded weakly, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you braced yourself for the next wave.

Just then, a knock at the door broke the tense atmosphere. One of Tywin’s personal guards stepped inside this time, bowing quickly before approaching him. He leaned in, murmuring something low and urgent into Tywin’s ear. Tywin’s expression hardened, and with a curt nod, he turned and left the room.

You watched him go, a flicker of unease curling in your chest, but the next contraction stole your attention, leaving you clutching the bed sheets as the pain consumed you.

Outside the chamber, Tywin strode down the corridor, his sharp footsteps echoing off the stone walls. He found Cersei waiting for him, her golden hair disheveled, her face flushed with anger. The fury in her emerald eyes was palpable, and she didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“How dare you leave us in the midst of this chaos?” she hissed, stepping forward to block his path. “Joffrey is dead, murdered before our eyes, and you—you—leave to tend to your new wife? Have you no shame?”

Tywin’s gaze was cold as he regarded her, his voice cutting like a blade. “Mind your tone, Cersei. This is neither the time nor the place for your dramatics.”

“Dramatics?” she spat, her voice rising. “My son is dead! The king is dead! And you abandoned the hall, leaving me to deal with the fallout!”

“Joffrey’s death was tragic, but it changes nothing,” Tywin said, his tone measured and controlled. “The succession is clear. Tommen will be crowned, and we will move forward. Your grief does not excuse insubordination.”

“Insubordination?” Cersei’s voice trembled with fury as she stepped closer, her hands clenched at her sides. “You dare speak to me of insubordination after you allowed this to happen? You left us vulnerable, him vulnerable, and now he’s dead! You failed him, Father.”

Tywin’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, a flicker of genuine anger crossed his features. “I failed him?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “You forget yourself, Cersei. It was your indulgence, your inability to control him, that led to this. Joffrey was a liability, and you know it.”

“How dare you!” she hissed, her voice breaking. “He was my son!”

“And a disgrace to this house,” Tywin snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut. “You may grieve, but do not lay the blame at my feet. Joffrey was your creation.”

The argument had escalated into a full-blown confrontation, their voices echoing down the corridor as they hurled accusations at one another.

“You think you can replace him with Tommen? With that soft, malleable boy?” Cersei demanded, her voice trembling. “You think you can replace me with your Targaryen wife and her bastard child?”

Tywin’s eyes blazed with fury, and he stepped closer, his towering presence bearing down on her. “Mind your tongue, Cersei,” he growled. “You are walking a dangerous line.”

Before she could retort, a sharp, piercing cry echoed from the direction of the chamber. Both of them froze, the sound cutting through their argument like a knife.

“The child,” Cersei whispered, her face pale as she turned toward the sound.

Tywin’s expression shifted, the anger fading into something colder, more calculating. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode back toward the chamber, leaving Cersei standing alone in the corridor, her face a mask of fury and disbelief.

[tinygrove]

Decent Man Pt. 2

The first part

Pairing: Cregan Stark/fem!reader

A/N: This ones a little longer than the last one. Maybe a little more suggestive but nothing wild just kissing. Not sure if I should make another part?

Summary: The follow up to the original post. You continue to navigate your rushed and arranged marriage to the Lord of Winterfell, but he is much more earnest than you believed.

As Cregan had mentioned, there was hardly any courting to begin with. It seemed the only thing you learned about him was his parentage and more information on his family line than you knew what to do with. Perhaps you dwelled on the matter for too long, the last bit of light was gone from the horizon and the dim candlelight could not do much for you. Sleep would surely be hard to find as a result of your worrying, or maybe you were just homesick. Perhaps you could try and fetch the maester for a draught once you've changed.

Reaching behind you, you unlace the rest of your gown. It’s an ivory silk embroidered with the details of your house sigil. You try to free yourself of your corset but a string has been caught on some invisible clasp. 

“I forgot to mention,” Cregan falters for a moment as he realizes his intrusion, he seems like he might avert his gaze but his eyes never drift from you. Of course they stay firmly fixed above your neckline. “I am sorry, I did not realize you were…” What you have on under your gown is more revealing but you are still clothed, you feel no shame. Besides, if your lord husband cannot see you in only this who can? Your hair has become slightly unkempt as well, no longer so tidy and pinned but loose and deviating from its original style. You swear at one point you could see Cregan’s mouth slightly agape but you don’t dare to comment on it. 

“It’s alright, we are wed now are we not? And, I cannot seem to free myself from this corset.” You’re not sure where all this sudden bravery has come from but if you are going to be married to the fiercest man in the North you should wield it more often. Cregan composes himself with impressive swiftness and makes his way behind you. Just before reaching out to touch you he stops himself as if he’s been caught in the act. 

“Shall I fetch one of the ladies in your service to assist you?” He’s so close that you can feel his warm breath on the side of your neck and by then you’ve made up your mind. 

“No, it's fine, I wouldn’t want to interrupt them. Do you think you could,” Before you can finish your sentence you feel the tips of his fingers graze your back through the fabric as he carefully unlaces you. It seems as if his hands have left invisible indentations on your skin, long after he’s pulled away you feel his touch. “Thank you.” 

He turns away from you now, heading towards the wardrobe where a slim section has been filled with what little clothes you brought with you. He picks out a thicker cloak you’ve brought, not nearly warm enough to brave the worst of the northern weather but good enough to sleep in. 

“Will this do my lady? I could lend you one of mine own as well if you do not mind.” He must’ve noticed the goosebumps rising on your skin. Unbeknownst to your husband it was from more than just the cold.

“I would like that, but I think first I must admit; I've been far too hasty to judge. You, by all accounts seem to be a truly decent man and I know we still do not know each other well but,” You need to take a deep breath to continue as heat rushes to your face. “Perhaps we might simply share the bed, as any couple would? That would surely keep the cold at bay.” Evidently your husband has become flustered as well, a red flush creeps up his neck and face. Barely visible to you but all the more endearing in the dim light. 

“Are you sure, we need not make haste, my lady. I know this marriage was somewhat rushed, for the both of us and there is no need to prove anything to me.” It was not lost on you that this marriage was advantageous, for more reasons than one. Arranged marriage was not something you looked forward to. As naive as it may be, you always hoped to marry someone you’d already come to love. Maybe some gallant knight or Lord, handsome and strong. But what's more likely to last is a marriage built on trust rather than infatuation. You have all your life to love your lord husband, tonight you can trust him.

“Yes I know. I'm grateful for the patience you've shown me but I think it is no longer necessary. You're an honorable man, I can see that plainly now, I should've seen it from leagues away. I'm sure.” You take his hands in yours, as he once did and the blush on his face only becomes stronger. You lead him to the bed and urge him to sit, he leaves space between his legs for you to stand. All the nerves have dissipated by now, no room for hesitation or second thoughts. You place an almost feather light kiss on his cheek. “One for your kindness,” You kiss his other cheek as well, much more earnestly this time. “And another for your generosity.” 

His eyes cannot seem to part from yours now, ardent and serious. “There are many qualities I’d like to praise you for as well but I am not sure there are enough hours in the night.” He cups your face in his hands and kisses you, firm but passionate. His lips, like the rest of him are warm and all encompassing, you couldn’t pull away if you wanted to. You have to will yourself not to chase them when he parts from you. It’s nothing like the kiss you shared during the wedding, quick and chaste. “That was for your compassion.” A large thumb swipes against your cheek and you can’t help but lean into it. “Shall I give you another for your loyalty?” 

“Please.” This one lasts much longer, his hands have drifted to your waist now and your hands rest on broad shoulders. His lips press into yours strongly but he doesn’t demand anything of you. Even as he runs his tongue over your kiss-swollen lips he’s considerate. When you separate it’s with a contented hum and an understanding that if neither of you sleep now you never will. “Perhaps we should retire?” You suggest more than ask, snuffing out the candle by your bedside. 

“Yes, I think that would be best.” Before you can fully remove yourself from his grasp he holds onto the thin fabric of your shift to keep you still. In nothing but moonlight the only part of him you can see is the shine of gray eyes. 

“We were made one by this union, whether it was what either of us longed for marriage is our duty now. However there is no other woman I’d wish to be bound to in sight of the Gods. You are mine now, and I am yours.”

[atsulovee]

✧ ─ · · KINKTOBER DAY TWO !! · · ─ ✧

To Thee, My Eternal Love

Knife play - Vampire!Dazai x Fem!Reader ➻❥ content warnings: blood, threat of bodily harm and mutilation, implied kidnapping, slight yandere!dazai, period typical misogyny (early 1800s), mentioned abuse. ➻❥ word count: 2.2k ➻❥ notes: this one specifically made me glad i put a 3.5k cap on my word count for kinktober lol. i kept catching myself getting way too wordsy so i had to cut a lot of unneeded stuff.

"The red moon hung heavy in the sky, consuming and tearing every little star in its light. Your husband was slotted between your legs, one hand keeping you leg on his hip and the other pointing the silver dagger at your esophagus. Like the old renaissance paintings of the devil, Dazai was handsome."

“To thee, my eternal love,

Even from so far, I hear the lovely beat of your heart, the alluring race of your pulse. Each night as I wake, your beating heart is all I care to listen for. I have not seen the sun in centuries, nor heard the call of morning roosters, but when the heat of your blood is my replacement, I find I do not mind. 

My beautiful mortal darling, as ephemeral as the petals of a spring flower. I, they call a vampire, a forager of blood, but it is beauty that I seek. Under the cover of darkness, near the churchyard, was when I found you. A muse, an angel, sitting at a grave. So young, so beautiful. I just could not bear letting your beauty be marred and restrained by the common village folk. I knew then you walked in a murky world- one that no one else could understand. You’re far too slight for such burdens. I would carry the world for you, slaughter villages, burn down whomever you ask. It was time to strike, for love could not wait. You fought, and you cried, relieved to be rid of mortal plights. 

I am not the monster you wish to believe I am. My undead heart has not beat in centuries- however, when I am with you, I feel the faintest tremors of a pulse. I’ll live a long time yet, my dear, and I could not bear an eternity without you. The day you die will be the day I’m destined to wander this world more helpless and alone than I have ever been. I’ll call your name to the moon at night, knowing there will be no answer.

And that is why I must never let you pass on from this world. 

Your Darling, Dearest, Dead, Osamu Dazai.”

. . .

To be the perfect doll is to be quiet, docile, and moldable. To be a wife is to be the same. A delicate puppet on silk strings, meant to be taken care of, meant to bend to every will and whim of their man. 

Cursed with your womb, you are all but a fully autonomous person in the eyes of the masses. A woman in the early 1800s has one duty to her family- marry young and above your social standing. Never step a foot out of line and never pull at your own strings. 

You were his- irrevocably, incredibly, dangerously his. Dazai had long made sure of that. 

His hand clasps your own and pins it above your head, a silent command from him to listen as you lie on the satin sheets. In a flurry, your hair splayed across the bed like a halo as blood red light filled the room. To Dazai, you were the light of heaven he was destined to never see. A gift from a God that despised him- perhaps to make up for His transgressions. 

Dazai’s deep, steady breaths puffed against your neck, even as his narrow hips pressed flush against yours. “My darling…” He sighs, never once blinking. Dazai couldn’t stand the idea of taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Each moment, each minute, each hour was so special, so precious. Each second that Dazai dared to spend not gazing upon your beauty was a second wasted. You were human still. And you could so easily leave him, slipping away into eternity.

His hips stilled against yours, the tip of his cock gently kissing your cervix. “My darling.” Dazai nearly whines, leaning forward until his chest pressed against yours just so his lips could gently kiss at your pulse point. Your blood was warm, much like the sun he had not seen in decades, and it was sweet just like the food he could no longer taste. “I adore you.”

Dazai was always a desperate, pitiful man. One who longed for things greater than him and shrunk away when his wishes were fulfilled. But you, his dearest human, was one thing he could never shy away from. 

You were lonely tucked away in his home, but you were safe. There was so much beyond his walls that could harm a human and you were simply not allowed to die by anyone’s hand but his own. 

His cold hand drags up your torso, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and up to your chest. You were so warm, Dazai laughed weakly against your neck as he listened to the heavy beat of your heart. He had no need for you to reciprocate his devotions so long as you stayed alive.

“I adore you, my love. You know that.” Dazai resists the urge to sink his fangs into your exposed neck, pulling himself away to stare at the flush on your cheeks. “I haven't felt such joy in either of my lives- undead or otherwise.” He savored every whine and cry that fell from your colored lips as he slammed his hips in and out of your tight hole. 

His nails bit and tore into your skin, letting droplets of your blood stain the sheets below. You hiccuped and cried every night when he took you to bed, but you no longer fight like you once had. It was a pity, really. Dazai thought you looked especially cute as you kicked and squirmed, trying to fight an inhuman being away. 

You tilt your head to the side, sniffling as Dazai holds you by your hips, forcing you to feel every thick inch as he plunges into you with an obscenely wet noise. Your strangled gasp meshes into a hiss as he punches the air out of your lungs with each thrust.

“Look at me.” Dazai whispers, grabbing your chin and pulling your face towards him. His voice is soft and sweet, a gentle breeze against your lips. But his smile is wide and his grip is bruising. When you fail to raise your eyes, he pulls your hips towards him harshly, forcing you to feel his cock in your stomach. “I will not ask you again.” It’s only when you feel the familiar blade of his dagger pressing against your throat that you dare look at him. 

Crimson light spills into the room like it was a flood. The red moon hung heavy in the sky, consuming and tearing every little star in its light. Your husband was slotted between your legs, one hand keeping you leg on his hip and the other pointing the silver dagger at your esophagus. Like the old renaissance paintings of the devil, Dazai was handsome. In the light, his brown eyes seem to glow mahogany. A horrible, horrible gaze as you don’t dare avert your eyes again.

After a moment, as he studies the look on your face, the resignation, Dazai smiles though he does not lower his blade. “There we go. I missed those pretty eyes, my love. I don’t like when you ignore me.”

As Dazai starts to move his hips once more, he drags his blade down from your throat to in between your breasts and down your sternum.

“You do know why I must keep you here, right?” He begins. “It’s not because I’m cruel and enjoy watching you suffer. There is just so much in the world that could harm you.” Dazai’s pelvis kisses yours each time he pulls out just to stuff you full once again. His thrusts are merciless and rough, one hand planted firmly on your hip, pulling you down on his cock each time he rams it in as the other points his dagger at your heart. “Just as easily as I keep you alive, I could kill you. Isn’t that terrifying?”

His voice is eerily calm and steady, even as wet squelches, gasps, and hisses fill the air. Each thrust muddies your thoughts, filling your mind with nothing but the dopamine of pleasure. It was hard to think, much less hate the man in front of you when he fucked in a way no human could. Then, he sinks the knife into your chest just slightly, enough to split the skin and let small streaks of red make their way down your skin. 

Instinctively, you squirm and whine, desperate to move away as your mind screamed danger but his dagger did not move. It felt like each shuddering inhale and hiccuping exhale would only drive the silver blade further into your chest.

“Calm down.” He mutters, moving the blade from the shallow wound as Dazai leaned down to lie his forehead against yours. He dragged it down your stomach, stopping just above where your womb would rest. “I have no intention to kill you, and you know that. If I had, I would’ve done so long ago. What poor excuse of a husband would ever murder such a darling wife?”

You knew, had learned months ago, what a monster your husband really was. You had made one attempt at escape and you knew to never try such a thing again. Dazai was cruel and vicious with his victims- the poor, innocent people he fed from, but he was so much worse with his love. 

His smile pulled tight as he looked down at you. He had intentions of giving you a second chance only once, if his beloved dared to defy him once more… The night would end with your shared bed soaked in blood as your corpses held one another.

Stakes don’t kill vampires, he had told you that night as he dabbed at the wounds he had inflicted upon you, bloody and weeping. That’s just a silly story that weak humans came up with to make themselves feel stronger. However, silver- something so pure and holy, is just the thing to do the trick. 

“You’re sick.” Your voice wobbles, thick and cracking as your eyes glare up at his. “The only reason you haven’t killed me is because I’m cattle to you.”

“Is that so?” He smiles, stabbing the dagger into the pillow next to your head. Dazai huffs with effort, gritting his teeth, letting his fangs click and clash together as he works open your cunt. “Will you do it, then? Will you try to kill your shepherd? This is the only chance you’ll ever get, darling.”

You spat at him, face flushed red in a way his no longer could, despite the drool wetting your bruised lips. Your rich blood mixed with sweat, streaking down your chest- the mounds bouncing as Dazai grinned.

“Just look at you…” He croons, hand that once held the dagger coming to grip your chin once more. His hand held you with such force, you could see the way his arms flexed. Your once soft skin was marred and littered with blacks, purples, and yellows- with puncture marks from when he had not felt like finding another victim to terrorize. “So precious. I should carve out your womb. No human man would ever want you, then. Even if by some chance of fate, you escape from my clutches, there is not a single person on this earth that will ever consider having you know that you’ve been defiled by me.”

“You’re vile.” You hiss, voice weak and strained. You wanted nothing more than to push your captor away, to reject his advances but such luxuries were fantasy so long as you wanted to live. You clasp your hand over your mouth as Dazai delivers a particularly hard thrust into your cunt, shutting you up. 

Dazai groans, his hand falling away as his desperate thrusts speed up. “I know.” He drawls, “I know. And that’s why I want you. Why I need you.” Dazai pants into your ear, the hot breath contrasting sharply to his cold skin- the chill running down your spine and pushing you closer to him. “Because I’m vile and you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

He groans, rolling his hips into yours inch by inch, with the depravity and viciousness of a beast. Desperation ached inside of his bones like a disease, burning and boiling with each thought of you. Dazai loved you so much, he wanted to keep you to himself forever. Wanted to kill you to preserve your memory. Wanted to turn you to make sure he’ll never be alone again. 

As you tilted your head back, walls fluttering around him, he takes his place with his lips on your neck once more. Gently, as he had done a thousand times before, his fangs punctured the delicate flesh. Warm, rich blood pooled into his mouth- only a single drop escaping him. 

Dazai’s thrusts speed up as he gasps, pulling back with bloodied lips. He could barely control himself on the best of days, he’d drain you in but a moment. Each movement made Dazai crave more, the lava pooling in his gut addictive and sweet.

It felt like his cock was molding its shape in your core, truly claiming you as his in the most vile, animalistic way. Everything felt raw, sensitive to the touch. You could barely think, barely breathe with how thoroughly the vampire was drilling your aching cunt. Overwhelmed tears drip off your flushed cheeks as your own incisor threatens to split your lip.

“I need you by my side, my love.” Dazai sighs, kissing down from your temple until he finds the still pulsing wound on your neck. “And so, I must never let you pass on.”

Once more, his fangs find their way into your neck and once more do you feel the gentle cold taking over your body.

➛ wanna join my kinktober taglist?

➛ tags!! @null-zero-0 @ghostedwriting @Sinfulthoughtsposts @oforphicintent @kiironyx @seasonaldeii @rainsoakedsun @sakui1 @meowimacow

[prodbymaui]

My Kind Of Love — 이민형.

spit in my mouth while you turn me on

PAIRING: mark lee x reader

GENRE: the idol

WORD COUNT: 1.5k words

WARNINGS: ice play, oral sex, spit kink, cum eating, slight voyeurism (ig?)

SYNOPSIS: You had an extra time after your photoshoot. What's a more worth it way of spending it other than visiting your favorite producer, Mark?

A/N: inspired by one of 'the idol' scenes where lily wears a red robe and somewhat seduces abel. enjoy reading!

SONG: One Of The Girls by The Weeknd, Jennie, Lily Rose-Depp

A click, and the pleasantly smooth sensual melody begins to fill the entirety of the recording room. Mark hums, nodding his head in the flow of the beat, elbow resting on the armchair as his forefinger ghosts over his lips. His fingers taps against the table, mind running as he searches for parts to improve.

Not even finished listening to the verse that he just worked on, Mark's hand hovers above the keyboard once again, quickly adjusting and adding what he thought the song lacks.

This needs a few more layers, Mark thinks. So he slides his chair to the other side of the table where the mic settles and closes his eyes, there he harmonizes with his own voice, layering a mellow adlib underneath the sharp yet slow rap. 

Just as Mark opens his eyes, the door opens without much of a knock, and turning around, he meets a vixen clad in red silk robe, a mesh black tights with black suspenders attached to what Mark likes to think is a sinful lace panties in the same color.

There's no way in saying Mark doesn't enjoy the view that he is blessed with. His eyes rakes down your figure, coming back up to meet your lustful gaze. The corner of your lips curves just a little before you take steps towards the man. His legs spread to have you in between as though instinctively, hands itching so much that he couldn't help but to grab your waist, squeezing just enough to feel your body heat seep through the silk fabric.

Water droplets fall onto Mark's skin, it is just then that he notices the glass of whiskey you're holding. ''Drinking alcohol late at night, huh. Tell me, darling,'' Mark leans back. ''What got you prancing around the company with just a thin piece of clothing to cover those nipples?''

You sip once more, holding Mark's stare for a few seconds before licking the liquor that sits on top of your lips' skin. ''Was doing a photoshoot for my new album– decided to pay my favorite producer a visit before changing. I just had a hunch he'd like to see me in this.''

Your words elicit a scoffy chuckle from Mark. He stands up. ''Favorite producer, hmm?'' His palm travels down and stops when it reaches your ass cheek, gripping lightly.

While Mark's other arm circles your waist, he noses your neck, closing his eyes as Mark allows himself to get drunk on your scent, kissing the pathway your throat creates. Pulling you closer, Mark nips your skin occasionally whilst he makes way to your jaw, soon connecting his lips with yours.

Mark swiftly delves his tongue in your mouth, sucking as you offer him your own. If words are to be chosen to describe the kiss, it'll be slow, sensual, and sultry. Just like the song that plays from the speakers surrounding the two of you.

Abruptly yet effortlessly, Mark spins your position and gives you a little push, pinning you down now that you're sitting on the chair. One of his legs separates your thighs apart, welcoming himself between you. Distracted from the way Mark delivers pleasure just from having his mouth on yours alone, you didn't notice how Mark steals the glass out of your hand and places it behind you, out of danger but is enough for him to reach it as well.

Suddenly, a freezing palm comes in contact with the back of your neck. Flinching, you whimper at the cold, tugging Mark's shirt. Instead of taking his hand off, he pulls away from the kiss, not without licking the string of saliva first. In contrast to the icy palm, a warm one rubs your side soothingly, it then nudges your robe away, revealing your nipples.

A sigh leaves your lips, fingers brushing through Mark's locks as you feed him more of your hard buds. Mark growls in satisfaction. Catching it between his teeth, pulling lightly, tweaking it with his fingers and sucking before licking the faint pain away. He does the same to the twin, spitting on it only to lick it away after biting it a few more.

''God, I fucking love your nipples. So fucking sexy. So pretty– always ready for me whenever. If I want to suck on them the whole day, you'll let me, right baby?''

''Yes– Haah– yes, lick them all you want. Ahh..''

Thinking you'll finally get his cock as Mark hums lowly, pecking each of your nipples, you fiddle with his belt. But Mark pins you to the chair again, kissing your forehead as he stretches his arm behind you.

''It's getting hot in here, darling. Would you mind a little raise in the temperature?'' Your eyes fall on the cubes of ice that melts inside the glass, you look up at Mark. One look and you know this is a way to ask consent. To ask you if you're down to try a new thing. Without hesitation, you nod.

Mark tilts his head to the side. ''Words, love. I need your words.''

''Yes, please..''

He brushes strands of hair off your face. 

''Good girl.''

Gulping the last sips of whiskey, Mark gives your lips one last swipe of tongue, letting you taste the alcohol. Pressing the glass on your inner thigh, shivers shoot up your spine. You bite your lower lip to endure the cold, toes curling as Mark spreads the icy droplets along your stomach up to your neck. Your eyes are closed, anticipating Mark's next move when you jerk in your seat, hand enclosing around Mark's wrist as you whimper, opening your eyes to see him tracing the line between your pussy cheeks with a cube.

''Fuck, really..? Not wearing a fucking underwear while a bunch of people watches you pose in front of the camera? What if they saw this, baby? Imagine the fucking headlines,'' Mark chuckles. ''A rising pop idol foregoes wearing panties during a photoshoot because they are desperate for someone to fuck them. How would your fans react to their lovely artist acting like a whore, my love? Would they like it as much as I do?''

Mark nudges your legs open, and as you do, the ice dips and lands exactly where your pulsating clit awaits. ''Fuck..'' You sigh.

''Yeah?'' 

Getting on his knees, Mark situates his face in front of your soaked core. He plays with the cube a little more until it melts completely and eases the cold with the warmth of his mouth. Mark laps and sucks, slurping your juices as he buries himself in your pussy, grunting on how your walls clench around his pink muscle.

Soon, his fingers join his tongue. Curling and prodding at your spot that sends your back arching, hands gripping the armchairs as you let your lewd moans bounce off the walls of the recording room. When Mark deems you're stretched enough, he pulls away and tugs his pants down enough to release his cock, tip in angry red shade.

Resting one leg on the armchair while pulling the other over his shoulder, Mark slides home. Groaning as your hot walls impressively engulfs his girthy cock like no other. Once he's deep and snug, Mark picks up a maddening pace, not giving you time to adjust nor get used to his size.

''A-ah! Ah ah ah! Mark– slow down… You're so big–... s-so big–!'' Your face scrunches up; eyebrows meeting, eyes shut tight, mouth open.

''I am, darling. And you love it.''

Your arms underneath Mark's, landing on his back. As Mark angles his hips and jabs at your spot, your eyes cross and your nails instinctively try to draw red lines along Mark's back but his shirt prevents it from happening. So instead, you opt for grabbing a handful of the fabric, tugging them as your hips unconsciously bucks to meet Mark's thrust.

The chair creates a continuous squeaking sound, continuously thudding as it bumps against the soundboard. Mark reaches to hold the back of the chair, spreading your wider. He renders his thrusts deep and hard, an action that slacks your jaw which allows drools to roll out past your lips and to your chin. Mark leans forward, spitting on your willing mouth before licking the strings of saliva and connecting your lips together. It cannot even be considered as a kiss because it is all panting and moaning against each other's mouth.

''Right there! I-I'm gonna cum.. fuck, Mark, I'm gonna cum! Shit– Mark! Ugh fuuuuck..'' Together with the drawn out curse is your eyes rolling to the back of your eyes, walls clamping down on Mark's cock as a white cream forms a ring around him.

The sight of you coming while moaning his name, Mark pistons his hips violently as he lets lust take over his mind and body. His thrusts becomes erratic and vigorous, and with an encouragement of words from you, Mark fills you up to the brim, his legs embarrasingly shaking as though he was the one who got fucked and not the one who s.

As Mark pulls out, he curses under his breath at the sight of his cum spilling out of your pussy. If that isn't the hottest fucking thing. You know what makes this hottest shit even hotter? Scooping his cum, feeding it to you while he fishes out a yet to melt ice and kisses the shit out of you, sharing the whole serve of the mixture of his cum and yours.

A/N: wrote this in an attempt to get out of slump so I apologize if it's not as good as my other fics. hope you enjoyed, nonetheless! share your thoughts?

[sarawritestories]

Kneel Before Your High Lord

Eris X Fem reader

A dedication to @ninthcircleofprythian for encouraging the feralness.

Summary: A stressful encounter with the High Lord of the Night Court has you coming home to your High Lord, your mate, who is all Too willing to help you unwind for a while

Content Warning: Night Court being shady, dom sub dynamics, male oral receiving implied, fade to black, unedited

Divider made by @tsunami-of-tears

Tears began to well up in my eyes as I left the dark hallowed palace the High Lord of the Night Court called home. My mate entrusted me to go to this meeting on his behalf. To ensure our alliance was secured now that Beron was gone.

I had failed.

His band of miscreants humiliated me, the shadowsinger looking at me as if I were a play thing he could bend to his will. Something in his gaze unnerved me rightfully, so the reputation of the spymaster was as long and as gruesome as his wings.

Being completely disregarded and made to feel like I was not worthy of Rhysand's presence I was dismissed with barely a hand gesture and a smug, "If the High Lord of Autumn wishes for a meeting, tell him he will have to show his face in order to do so."

Embarassing.

Eris had said they were all dreamers, and all had the same goal of maintaining peace, having the freedom to simply exist. The nagging side of my brain couldn't help but wonder if they only showed that side to him. That only to those who deem respectable and powerful were worthy of looking within the mask.

You would think that being the High Lord's mate would have given me that level of respect.

Before a tear could slide down my cheek, I windowed to the one place I felt safe.

Home.

My mind had been reeling deeply that, that I was unaware of Sadie; my hound Eris had gifted me as a mating gift guiding me to his study. It was only when her tongue met the palm of my hand that I was pulled from my stupor petting her soft gray fur I lightly knocked on the door.

"Enter." Eris' voice filled with the command of a high lord caused my toes to curl as I opened the door. His copper eyes met mine and instantly softened, "Home so soon, My Love?" He tilted his head his red curls illuminating against the setting sun. His eyes assessed my face and immediately rose from his chair to approach me. "What happened?" His calloused hands cupped my cheeks, his thumbs stroking idly along my face.

The dam broke, and my body tore out in a string sobs.

Eris tucked my face in his chest as he stroked my back as I told him of my encounter in the Court of Nightmares.

"Eris, please don't make me go back there." Eris ran his fingers through my hair, his soft lips pressing against my temple. His touch was always so soothing for me.

"The next time I go over there, Rhysand will wish he never treated you with such disrespect, Pet." I stiffened slightly at the sound of his name for me. He pushed me away gently, in order to see my face, even through the tears I could make out the cute freckles across his nose that made him look youthful, a youth that was stolen from him.

He gripped my chin with his thumb with just enough force to tell me what wad going on, "Would you like to forget for a little while?" My heart began to flutter as I attempted to nod my head only for him to firmly keep my head in place. "You know better. Use your words."

Heat began to pool between my legs at the commanding tone in his voice, "Please, my Lord. Play with me."

Eris pressed his lips to mine, giving my bottom lip a small bite before releasing me. "Put on your uniform, and return here when you're done." He pulled the pin from my hair, allowing my curls to cascade down falling to my shoulders. "Hair stays down."

"Yes, My Lord."

Eris gave me a mischievous grin, "Good Girl."

I walked back into his study in my silk robe, knowing well that I didn't want the staff to see the Green Corset and matching lace panties that left little to the imagination. "Robe off." His command jolted me as he hadn't even looked up from his paperwork.

I quickly remove the garment to reveal the bodice of the corset with intricate gold lace design that compliments the green lace around my thigh with Eris' name in gold lettering. Eris' eyes finally meet mine, and the russet hues of his iris glow like the fire in his veins. He tucks his bottom lip behind his teeth as though assessing my appearance and his gaze causes my cheeks to warm. "What to do with you, Pet."

I bow, "Use me how you wish, My Lord."

Eris motions his finger, indicating for me to move closer to him. I do as instructed, and when I approach, there is a stagnant pause. He resumes his work, "I expect my pet to kneel before her High Lord."

"Apologies, My Lord." I whisper, my stomach flipping at the command in his tone, my need to serve him and not think for a while. My knees hit the plush carpet, and my head lowered. His fingers is immediately running through my hair.

"My Sweet Girl. My sweet, loving girl. Look at me." I meet his gaze, and there is a warm smile on his face. "You are amazing, I need you to know that. You didn't fail me. You made me proud. Do you hear me?" I nod my head, and his eyes darken, "Words, Love."

"Yes, my Lord." He leans down to kiss me. I go to grip his face when he catches my wrist.

"Good, now be my good girl and make your High Lord feel good while I work. Then, when I'm done, I will worship you like the goddess you are."

I smiled and tucked myself under his desk and showed my high Lord just how much I loved him.

[tangerinesgirl]

Pull Some Strings

** SPOILERS FOR ABIGAIL (2024) **

Fem!Reader x Frank/Adam Barrett (Abigail)

Word count: 1.1k

Rating: 18+, explicit

Warnings: smut, denied orgasm, GodComplex!Frank, JOI, degradion, Frank swearing a lot (as usual), pet names, vaguely non con if you squint bc mind control

Summary: You've been flirting with Frank the entire evening. He tests his new vampire powers and turns you into his puppet. Things get freaky.

Notes: this seems too good to not have been done before, I did have a search beforehand so I'm sorry if it does exist! We need more Frank smut ASAP! Also, reader has nipple piercings in this and there's use of Y/N.

You jump awake with a burning hot pain in your neck. You reach to touch the wound but you find nothing there. Memories start to play in your mind, how Frank willingly accepted the offer to be turned into a monster, while you sat on the floor helpless. You were heartbroken that he could turn into a traitor like that, after the two of you fighting so hard together, but the other part of you couldn't keep your eyes off him, seeing him covered in blood, moaning as Lambert gave him his new life. You watch in horror as he stakes Lambert through the heart, you try to grab the shelf behind you to get up, but Frank stamps on your arm, breaking it instantly. You scream as he pulls your hair, exposing your neck to him.

Frank whispers in your ear, "I'm going to make you my puppet, and we're going to have a little fun". You whimper as he pecks a little kiss on the side of your mouth, and dives his teeth into your neck. You can feel yourself getting colder, your body twitching as you loose consciousness.

*

"Y/N....you are mine"

The sound of Frank's voice lures you back awake. You're in a bedroom somewhere, but you can tell you're still in this god forsaken house. "Oh good you're awake". You look around the room instinctively trying to find the source of the voice.

"What's going on?"

"Keep up sweetheart, did you not pay attention to what happened to Sammy? Or were you too busy trying to get me to fuck your brains out?"

Your mind jumps back to how you flirted playfully with Frank the whole evening. The car ride where you were zipping your hoodie down to make your breasts pop out. When you brushed past him to open the door. The way you would look at his lips, and chew the bottom of yours every time he gave the crew orders. You found him very attractive, and the dominance was a huge turn on for you.

You sit next to him at the bar in the house, "You know, I'm very much into the hot boss scenario". Your hand brushes against his as you reach for your drink. In a split second, Frank pins your hand to the counter and grabs your neck with the other one, "You're really going to flirt with me when we have bigger fucking problems right now?"

Everyone in the group stares at you as you go bright red from embarrassment. You decide to roll with it, liking how agitated Frank is getting at your advances. Afterall you've nothing to loose, no one will know your true name after this. You moan loudly with a "oh yes, harder daddy". Frank lets you go in disgust. He spits out a "fucking whore" under his breath. You hear him and giggle, "only for you" and blow him a kiss as he walks away.

*

Your mind snaps back to reality. "I know how you like being told what to do, and I'm curious to see if this actually fucking worked first time... So...Frank says, take off your hoodie". You immediately unzip your hoodie without a moment's thought, "What the fuck?"

"Frank says undo your bra". You do as he says, part of you is very much into him finally reciprocating what you've been putting down the whole evening, even in these circumstances.

"Frank says play with your nipples". You moan as you grab your breasts and tug gently on your nipples.

"Wait I can feel something cold...do you have piercings? That's fucking hot... Frank says undo your belt". The belt clinks to the floor, you can somehow tell that Frank is doing the same, wherever he is.

"Frank says undo your buttons". You unzip your jeans, and dip your hand in further, you can feel the wetness growing in your underwear as you try and find some kind of friction.

"Frank says stop. Frank didn't say to do that now, did he?"

You shake your head.

"Use your words"

"No"

"No what?"

"No sir"

"Good girl. Now. Frank says to circle your fucking clit. Slowly"

You moan softly, it's painful for you not to do anything else right now.

"Frank says stop"

The slow orders are making you impatient, you need more of a release, "please".

"Please what?"

"I need more"

"Then you fucking wait"

You can feel Frank playing with his cock, it pains you that you can't see, but you can feel him growing hard, the pre cum on his hands. You can even hear his subtle moans as he palms himself.

"Frank says dip your index finger into your pussy".

You sigh in relief as your hand finally enters you.

"Frank says insert another finger"

You fuck yourself open, Frank can hear the sound of your wetness and swears under his breath.

"You sound fucking soaked, the sound of my voice gets you this wet huh? Now...play with your clit".

You start to do so and Frank laughs, "Frank didn't say "Frank says" now did he?"

You cry out in agitation, "Frank please".

"Nah ah, what do you call me?"

"Sorry, sir"

"That's better baby. Frank says touch your clit"

You can feel yourself getting closer, Frank can too. "I'm going to cum Fr-sir, please can I cum?".

"Frank says stop"

"No!" You whimper as you pull your hands out of you. Denying you of your orgasm makes Frank's come quicker, the power over you as well as being a newly turned vampire makes him feel like a God. He takes off his shirt as he starts to cum on his chest. You can feel the hot liquid on your chest too. Your hands feel around but there's nothing there. You're really pissed off, but still very much aroused. Frank moans as he continues to empty himself on his chest, it seems to last forever. As he finally comes to a stop, he lets out one last big moan. "Do you want to taste?"

Part of you wants to give him the silent treatment for the way he just used you, but you say "yes sir" like the good puppet you are.

Frank takes a finger of his cum off his chest and wipes it on his lips. He licks it up with his tongue. You can feel the taste slowly seeping into your mouth, you bite your lip and swirl your tongue around, lapping up every invisible drop. It's salty, with a hint of iron, but oddly creamy at the same time.

"I think that was a pretty successful test, wouldn't you say, Y/N?"

You finally find your backbone after Frank and his stupid voice turned it into mush, "Fuck you".

"Oh I will, right after I kill me a vampire"

[jenosbigtoe]

Requesting a haechan shot where he loves to tease and edge until ur like. AT THE BRIMM. He's cheeky everywhere he goes !!

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: lee haechan x reader

warnings: meanie hyuck, jealousy, degradation, fingering, cunnilingus, spanking

you were basically asking for it.

prancing around in front of his horny ass friends wearing nothing but a string bikini top and thong. tits bouncing around and bare ass out on display for everyone to see barely covered by the pathetic excuse of a “swimsuit” you were wearing. it was supposed to be a beach day, not a slut-yourself-out-in-front-of-your-boyfriend’s-friends-to-rile-him-up day.

“baby, you know you piss me off when you do these kinds of things around other people,” he spoke lowly through gritted teeth into your ear. he gave your bare ass a hard pinch for emphasis.

you smacked his hand away. “ugh, you’re too possessive, hyuck. relax.”

“you’re literally bare ass naked in front of my friends, how could i not be pissed off?”

he was so sulky for the rest of the day. sitting under the beach umbrella instead of hanging out and glaring at you menacingly with everyone else. you could visibly see the fire in his eyes and the red hot anger radiating off his body. but who cares? today was supposed to be a fun day at the beach!

until you were back in the hotel room, tears rolling down your face as he had you bent over his lap.

he gave your tingling ass cheek another hard slap. “so you wanted to be a fucking slut?”

you were a babbling mess, sniffling and sobbing and wriggling around. “n-no!! i wasn’t.”

he gave you another smack. “pissing me off all goddamn day. acting like a cheap whore.”

he started to pull on your bikini thong, giving you a tight wedgie that rubbed up into your leaking pussy. you cried out at the feeling, cunt spasming and clenching around nothing.

“you fucking like this huh. you like being punished, spanked, called a slut,” his voice was low and dangerous as he wiggled your thong up your cunt, fabric rubbing up on your clit and sending waves of pleasure up your spine.

fat tears rolled down your face and dripped down to ground. you attempted to squirm around and away from his relentless punishment but he suddenly threw you on your back and pinned you beneath his heavy body.

“not so fucking fast slut. i’m far from done with you,” he breathed out before crawling down to face your achy cunt.

“ah, so my slut is turned on by this,” he smirked and stared hungrily at your dripping pussy barely concealed by the piece of string you called a bikini.

you whined and kicked your legs around before he grabbed your thighs and held you down. he dove straight into your drooling pussy, flattening his tongue against your core and sucking at your clit. he moaned at the taste of your sweet cunt on his tongue, sending vibrations through your core. he licked a long stripe up your cunt, gathering up your dripping juices onto his tongue, before shoving his tongue as far into your hole as possible.

you bucked your hips wildly into his face, screaming and sobbing from the feeling. you grabbed at his hair and pulled, causing him to go even harder on you.

“o-oh my, f-fuck!!” you cried. “hyuck, oh my god oh my god!”

he stopped and looked up into your fucked out face. “aw, little slut likes getting her pussy ate huh? such a fucking whore.” your juices and his spit were glistening off his chin. hair wild, pupils blown, he looked like sin.

he shoved his fingers into your dripping cunt, easily sliding in from the way you were drooling and creaming. he started to pump his fingers up into your sweet spot, pounding his fingers knuckles deep into your creamy cunt as he licked and sucked on your clit hard.

you were losing your mind, feeling your pussy clench and spasm around his fingers as you bucked your hips to meet his face. you were a babbling, sobbing, screaming mess, saying incoherent sentences as hyuck ate your pussy like a starved man. “so good oh my god f-fuck so good hyuckk!! more please more more!!”

you were so so close to release, feeling your climax build right before the toppling over the edge. when all of a sudden he ripped his fingers out of your hole and removed his face from your spasming cunt. you whined at the loss of contact, why?

and then he got up from on top of you and walked away, leaving your fucked out, shaking form right where he left you.

“dirty sluts like you don’t get to cum. maybe this will teach you a lesson.”

a/n: i got super carried away and then realized this kinda wasn’t what you asked for… i hope you like it anyways el oh el

[heavenlyraindrops]

♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Six ♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Six Warnings: profanity, making out, biting How to find the other chapters in my pinned post.

♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱

A/N: y’all are gonna love this one

[Chapter Six]

“So then I said no, again,” you said, finishing your story on how Adam had proposed to you for the fifth year in a row. Lucifer turned his head to look at you, golden strands falling in front of his eyes. 

You were both lying on the floor- the rug, to be exact, of one of the many rooms Lucifer had. You’d dragged him down there with you. He couldn’t say no. The window casted a large square of red light into the room, precisely where you two lay.

It had been five years since you first met.

Five years of sneaking away from the exorcists. Five years of crawling in through conveniently left open windows. Five years of evading the Seraphim and Lute’s questions and five years spent communicating in Morse code through your bracelets, late into the night. 

“Is it just me, or is he getting more creative? As far as an idiot like him can get, anyways.” Lucifer murmured. You raised a hand to shield your eyes from the light so you could see him properly. 

“As far as an idiot like him can get? I don’t know about you, but he really exceeded my expectations.” Lucifer laughed at that. The sound was beautiful, the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. 

“Really. He scared me when he popped out of my ficus plant. Actually, I’m quite sad about that ficus.” 

“I’ll find a way to get you a new ficus,” Lucifer sighed, turning back over. You smacked his shoulder playfully. 

“You can’t get me a new ficus, Your Majesty.”

“I’m the King of Hell. I’ll get you anything you want. No matter what.”

The words made you blush, as you flicked your eyes back to the ceiling. 

“And just call me by my name. Why do you even use ‘Your Majesty?’”

You let out an incoherent string of half-hearted grumbles in response, which made him chuckle. Somehow his hand had found yours, fingers intertwining like they were magnetically attracted to each other. 

“How much time until the Pentagram closes?”

“Enough, but not long.”

“Wish I didn’t have to go.”

Lucifer sat up, a lock of hair tumbling down over his pale forehead as he grinned at you. Devilishly handsome. “Do you prefer to spend time with me than all your friends in Heaven?” 

Your heart thumped against your ribcage. You were worried he could hear it as you gulped. “Maybe.”

Your hands were still connected. 

You sat up too. He stared into your eyes, then flicked his gaze to your lips, then back up. Then his face split into another smirk. “Well, thanks for taking the risk for me.”

You hadn’t realized that you’d both been drawn closer. You could feel his breath on your lips.

A sudden urge to just lean in washed over you. You searched his face desperately, looking for a single sign that he wanted it too. Even the smallest look. He tilted his head, glancing down at your lips again, closer.

You grabbed his collar, pulling him in. “It’s worth it,” you breathed. 

His lips felt soft- so so soft, you could have stayed like that forever. You could feel his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, closer. You shuddered, digging your nails into his shoulders, easing a small moan out of him. 

“Angel,” he whispered, and the nickname burned hot against your lips as you tangled your fingers through his golden locks, just to pull him in again, as close as you could get.

“Lucifer,” you gasped in response, and felt him shiver under your fingertips. 

You both pulled away, breathing heavily. He glanced at you from half-lidded eyes. “Say it again,” he murmured shakily. 

“Say what?”

“My name.” He yanked on your hand and you toppled over, into his chest, palms braced on the floor behind him. “Say it again.”

Your mind whirled. “Lucifer-“

He grabbed your face, pulling you in again, kissing you with more ferocity this time. You felt his sharp teeth graze against your bottom lip tantalizingly, and it took everything for you to not bite back. Fingers dug into your waist, balancing you on his thigh. 

You let off a small, sharp breath of annoyance as he pulled away, only for him to trail his lips down your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses and bruises, ending at your collarbone. He leaned back up to kiss your lips again. You pushed him away gently. 

“Lucifer, we can’t do this,” your voice trembled. His expression dropped and it almost shattered your heart in pieces. “It’s too risky.”

“Angel-“

“No,” you said desperately. “It isn’t supposed to happen. It’s gone too far.” His lips clamped shut. Your eyes flicked up and down his figure, the rumpled clothes, the messed up hair. His face flushed, lips swollen. 

“Why?” He murmured, voice dangerously low. You almost gave in again. “I’ll finish what I started. Won’t you? Don’t you want this?”

“I do. I want it so bad. But if they find out- the trouble we’ll get in- they might even come for you-“

“Let them,” he growled, voice riddled with frustration. You stared at him for a split moment, your own breathing the only thing you could hear, and then your lips crashed into his again, with more fervour and desperation than ever before as you clawed at his shirt. He whimpered, the noise making you throb.

“Fuckkk,” you hissed, the word unfamiliar on your tongue, as he kissed his way down your jaw again, then yelped as he nipped at the soft skin. You pulled away. He grinned at a spot on your neck that throbbed, fingers tracing the sensitive flesh. You could feel the bite mark forming. 

“Something to remember me by,” he muttered against your neck.

You blushed. 

♱♱♱

You pulled your collar up for the fifth time that evening, surrounded by exorcists in the hot, busy bar you were in. The fabric brushed against the bite, making you flinch.

They had wanted to celebrate a recent newly appointed exorcist's first extermination, and it just so happened that you were acquainted with the girl. And also the fact that Adam had begged you to go in his place.

Lute was downing another drink next to you. You’d lost count of how many she’d had, watching in concern as she punched the air, eyes drooping with intoxication. “Carpe noctem, bitches!” 

“Right,” you muttered, checking your watch. It was late. Really late. “Lute, are you sure you should have another drink?”

Lute waved over the bartender. “Fuckin’ hell yeah,” she snapped, head flopping in all sorts of directions as she babbled her order in an incoherent mess of words. You smiled at the bartender apologetically and shook your head. They got the hint and left. Lute didn’t even notice. 

The two other exorcists with you giggled. One of them leaned on the bar. “Let her have another, [name].” She ruffled the hair of the girl next to her. “In cheers to pipsqueak’s coming of age, right?”

You stared at them, then turned back to Lute, who was in hysterics next to you. “One more, and then we’re going home.”

“Booooringgg,” the exorcist groaned, then opened their eyes wide. “But if you say so, [name].” She nudged her shy friend. “Who are we to disagree with the great [name] herself?”

You coughed uncomfortably. “I… uh, well-“

“Sorry,” the ‘pipsqueak’ mumbled to you. You smiled at her gently.

For the next few minutes you watched over Lute, until you had to rush her to the bathroom to throw up. You had pulled back her short cut hair as she hacked into the toilet bowl, until she drunkenly pushed you away. 

“Go away. Leave me the fuck alone- I don’t need you.”

She still leaned on you on the way back to your seats. 

As you both approached, you heard the exorcist’s conversation: 

“Yeah, so she cut that bitches eye out, just like that. That’s Lute for ya. I’ll tell you a thing, pipsqueak- you see a traitor, you show them no mercy. That bitch Vag-“

“Hey, girls,” you said. They both turned to look at you, and a groaning Lute. “I’m gonna take Lute home now. She’s… well…” you jerked your head at her and they nodded sympathetically. 

You gathered yours and Lute’s things before tugging on her arm.

“Come on. Let’s go,” you murmured, fussing with Lute’s hair. Lute groaned dramatically, leaning away from your touch as if she was repelled by it.

“Fine, bitch,” she hissed.

♱♱♱

A/N: what’s gonna happen with Lute? 😨😨😨 stay tuned to find out besties

Taglist: @boredlime, @ica1, @tremendoushearttaco, @sweetadonisbutbetter, @lucky-flowey,@kitty-kei, @thornwolfy235, @w31rd3rg1rl, @marxo5, @lvstyangel, @brainz00, @lukerycyja-reblogs, @dickmastersworld,@everlastprime259-blog, @rain-doll401-blog, @bakugounuggets, @ren-ren23, @mjhehe09,@angelicwillows, @rayyrayysanchez, @luleck, @dellugh-shposts

[glokyo]

sooo seductive!!!!!!!!

(med smut, don’t be scared.)

warnings: foodplay, tinyyyy overstimulation, pussy eating/ cunnilingus, tongue piercing, cum play, dirty talk, slight degradation.

synopsis: she so sweet, make her wanna lick the wrapper

18+

There are some things that get under Satoru's sweet skin. When I say that, I don't mean little pet peeves or stupid things that push his buttons- i'm talking full on rage triggers that'll set his blood boiling hotter than the sun. But the one thing about you that drives him absolutely fucking bat shit- his mind just couldn't stop wandering to those lush pink lips of yours. Wrapped so pretty around those big cherry lollipops.

See, you're not hard to see through. Satoru knows the real kind of girl you are. The sorta nasty, cock-crazed vixen who can't keep her pretty lips off anything phallic for more than 5 minutes.

Just yesterday, he caught you doing it again. Slobbering over that big fat cherry loli you love so much. Working that thick candy with your luscious lips in a show meant justttt for him- while he laid back, stroking his meaty cock to the sexy display, something he could never keep his eyes off of.

"Dirty bitch," He'd purred more than once like a cat begging for attention, watching in rapture as a thick saliva-syrup string drip salaciously down your chin, cheeks hollowed as you suck the sweet remnants of your favorite sugary treat off the stick it clings onto.

"Look at you... look at yourself. You love this shit, huh? You love getting all sticky and covered in these dirty treats, doncha babygirl?" He murmur, tilting his head against the headboard of the bed, mouth agape. "Betcha can't wait to get stuffed the proper way, hmm?"

Oh, but you'd just blink those long lashes all faux innocence, feigning shock at his raunchy suggestion. Even if your wandering hand would dip below your skirt, giving that puffy little cunt a few teasing squeezes in anticipation for promises of later.

It's not like Satoru never seen a girl eat candy before. Hell, hoes would do anything for his attention with any amount of suggestive food play. But there's something about you.. and the way you work your fucking lips so casual- like it's fucking nothing. The way your tongue darts out to taste the candy, swirling around. The soft 'pop' when you pull it out your mouth, the way your lips are stained in a deep, kissable, delicious red...

Anyone would lose their mind over that and Satoru for sure has. That mouth was made to suck cock, no question. No doubt. Each time he saw you- all throat on that loli, his traitorous eyes would get all hazy. Couldn't and damn sure wouldn't focus for shit. Between imagining how you'd hollow out those ripe cheeks nice and tight around his thick meat. Or that wicked little tongue swirling around his swollen cockhead, savoring every salty inch with your usual enthusiasm. There was no fucking use in trying to focus on anything but those tantalizing thoughts for the rest of his day. Satoru lost track of how many times he would have to hastily excuse himself to rub one out. Spewing his creamy load all over the place, fantasizing about your cum-splattered face and glazed over eyes, mouth still frozen in a tiny 'O' shape. Satoru's jazzed so many angry, frustrated loads thinking about the juicy lil mouth of yours.

Satoru got home after running errands- and you're at it again, without fail. You looked so fucking good sucking on that dumb loli. Truth be told, Satoru was getting crazy watching you suck that big thing down. So much so that he ended up pouncing, flipping you onto your back with a surprised squeal, smirking wickedly as he tore away your bow panties and pinning those smooth thighs open in one smooth motion.

Knowing Toru', he's never been the one to beat around the bush. He popped the loli from your mouth and immediately dragged the wet loli straight up the length of your drenched slit, parting your swollen folds with it. "That's a good girl... such.. a good girl." He praised mockingly, poking and pressing it against your equally swollen clit.

"Can never get enough of these pretty little holes getting stuffed and stuffed, aint that right, princess?" he drawled, grin cocky as ever.

He grounds the loli harder against your sweet nub, eliciting a yummy mewl from you. "Sooo sensitive, baby.." he purred.

The sweetly-scented lollipop was practically dripping in your dewy essence after just a few sinuous swirls around your entrance. Satoru couldn't resist yanking the lollipop out and bringing the tasty treat to his own lips, moaning in deep satisfaction as he wrapped his pierced tongue around the sugary orb- the most delectable after-taste tang of pussy sugar.

"Mhmm, y'taste s'fuckin good, don't you, you messy little whore?" He groaned in open rapture between messy licks and slurps. "Sweeter than any fucking candy."

After licking up every last drop of your cum from that now useless cherry lollipop, he tossed it aside without a second thought. The sugary treat glaze trickling from your swollen folds down to that adorable lil rosebud that was just begging to be played with. With a heady grunt of real approval, he flattened his broad palms against the supple flesh of your gorgeous thighs, spreading your trembling legs impossibly wider to grant unobstructed access.

"Fuuckkk, look at this greedy-.. mmmfff.." He immediately leaned in, pressing his mouth against your drenched slit, tongue darting out to lap up every drop of your glistening arousal like it was a last meal. The metal ball of his piercing dragged over your swollen nub in agonizingly slow circles, drawing out those beautiful broken whimpers.

"That feel good, baby?" He whispered between slurps, flattening his tongue against you, sounding like a true animal as he growled and breathed heavily against your cunt.

note; i’m flopping😢

[kuni-is-daddy]

I'm going to ignore all of my shame and ask for a yandere Scaramouche with a female darling

Where he uses a vibrator on her and orgasm denies her

Yandere scaramouche x female reader

Lord Sixth.

Tw: Scara is manipulative, Threats etc.

Ft:// 0rgsm denial,toyplay, Degrading, M8ing press, Scara scummy a bit

Word count: 1.5k. ScaraMasterlist

CW: Minors do not interact past the cut! This is a nsfw post!

When you first met and truly fell in love he was able to read you like a book. Knowing everything about you and even putting a ring on your finger. It was unnecessary to him though, Something redundant as marriage never mattered. Once he set his eyes on you..Once you embraced him, He already claimed you as his own. But archons- Hearing lord 11th and her majesty pestering him over it was irritating. So, he brought it up to you, his once naive and beautiful s/o. A direct confession you gladly said yes to. Even tucking away his hat to give him a kiss on his toxic lips.

He pushed you against the wall, squeezing your throat as you irked out through your pained neck. The puppet looked down towards the ground after hearing a clink. His smirk instantly turned into a bored expression as his eyebrows relaxed. He expected you to bring it, A small knife that was stolen from the kitchen. After all..The walls do have ears. Anything you've ever done suspicious would send the maids and fatui flocking to him like sheep reporting on your every move. So when you entered his room, unknowingly greeted by his half-dressed form; You froze up at the sight of his scars and markings. With you pinned, he looked down on you. E/c eyes we're filled with tears and mouth gasping for air. He didnt know whether it was from fear or out of hatred yet didnt care. He knew they'd always and only be for him. Validating him and his delirious actions. At the thought of it, He let go of your throat while you fell to your knees. Then laughed at a joke only he could understand.

If you weren't sure he lost all the trust he's given you, you definitely were now. "If your going to kill me, just make it fast...Please." you mumbled. The puppet stopped laughing after your words, raising an eyebrow. "Kill you? Why would i?" He kneeled down, an action he only gave you privilege to see. His eyes we're pure indigo yet still glowing purple through his pupils and red eyeliner, While the strings on his shorts we're barely tightened. "Is that what you truly want darling?" He picked up the small knife, Twirling the handle through his fingers. Your 'husband', Lord sixth. Never made empty promises...or threats. Intrusive thoughts began poking around in your mind; Would he really do it? Would he finally let me go? but you shook your head, choosing your words wisely. "No...It isn-" "Properly." "N-no..Kunikuzushi." He thinly smiled at your answer then tilted his head closer, Your lips almost touched But to your surprise he pulled away and instead held your chin up. "If I wasn't so in lov- interested in you, I would've inflamed you beside your village. Consider yourself lucky y/n. You have a vow..no..many to uphold to me."

He stopped kneeling; turning his back towards you and walked to the bedside counter. With his attention away from you, you stumbled up and walked towards the door thinking he let you go. "But dont think I'll let you off so easily this time." Scara's voice echo'd throughout the silence "but i-" "You heard what i said, now come here. I shouldn't have to explain myself to you further." His hand smacked on the counter, the ring on his finger made a soft clinking noise along the wood. You looked away from the door and walked towards him, It wasnt locked. Instead, It creeped open a bit as the cool palace breeze entered. You could just try run...Again, But that would just have you back at square one. Tied within his strings as if you were the puppet.

--

You laid on your back on the bed while his frame towered over his. The small ray of moonlight flashing through the window made the puppet ironically look like an angel. Scara's bored expression shifted a bit at your obedience, he loosened the knot in his shorts slightly. As if it was instincts, you then propped your legs up, pulling your skirt up slightly and he immediately brushed his fingertip along your thigh. A spark of electro emitted and you bit back a moan. "You really are getting out of your league, aren't you?" he sighed. "You dont deserve to be fucked yet. Not after that pathetic trick of yours..." "B-but scara you-" He ignored your plead and parted your thighs. You moaned silently as his pale fingers itched over the smooth cotton liner hiding your slit, "huh..look how wet you are, and I've barely touched you...to think Mear minutes ago you wanted me dead."

He bit his bottom lip, restraining himself from pouncing on your 'pathetic state' while your hips began bucking at his touch already. You couldn't stand it, not anymore. As many times as you've touched yourself only he was able to make you feel good, only he was able to make you reach your limit. And archons did he take advantage that. "Hah. What a joke." Scara slid his hands under the sowing and roughly pulled your lingerie off. He Tossed them onto the floor then pulled away to retrieve something out his pants pocket. "S-Scara~ what are you-" suddenly he straddled you by your hips, pulling you closer towards the edge of the bed then leaned down until he was face to face with your glistening slit. Click click "To think my wife could be so pathetic..like a filthy dog in heat." "S-scara! im not Mmn!~" He quickly put the toy inside, watching as your walls clenched around it. "Hm? Your not what?" He reached into his pocket for the remote, waiting for you to part your lips. "Im not flith- AH!" you quickly covered your mouth while your thighs twitched from the toy. "Oh really darling~? Huh...but down here says otherwise, doesn't it?" Scara moved his bangs a bit out his hair and licked along your clit "Mnh~ Scara~!" you bit into your skin, biting back moans hard enough you swore they drew blood. "So why don't you..mm~ be a good girl for me and beg?" You nodded your head, letting go of the little bit of dignity you had, in return scara merely smirked. "If only you were always this obedient, it would've saved you Alot of heartbreaks darling." Scara's tongue swirled along your bud while his other hand pressed tightly onto the remote, Making sure the buzzing sensation inside you never stopped.

Your voice began pitching higher and higher. You we're close. "S-scara! Please~! Let me cum! I-ah i cant~!" A satisfied groan left his lips while you begged. As much as he was enjoying himself, You still had a punishment afterall. Scara pulled away, Licking up Your pre juices while you whined at the Sudden slow buzzing of the toy inside of you. He was growing impatient, He needed more, He needed to hear you- "Kuni!~ no~! wait~! please~" 'kuni' At the use of his 'favorite' nickname he practically snapped, tilting his head to remember the word you said. "Again." You blinked out of your gaze. "Wha-" "Say it, Darling." He slapped your thigh and you shuddered in pleasure. "Ah! K-kuni...? Please fuc~" He moved his hands to your pussy again, slowly scissoring your insides while pulling the vibrator out. "hnh...Please fuck me kuni~i'll be a good girl~ just for you~ I promise!" 'Liar' He thought, But god was he enjoying this. Your hips jerked back along his fingers. The remote and toy we're now hanging on the side of the bed, while he freed his aching length with his other hand. He began fisting himself roughly, letting out panting breathes you haven't heard in a long time. When he wasnt going through his usual irritated 'mood swings' his soul purpose was to dominate you with his sadism.

"Move." He said sternly and you did as if it was instincts again. You moved back into the center of the bed, Head rested on a pillow while you heard the string pull on his garments. "Hmn..Dont you dare get quiet. Do you understand?" You shivered at his words and nodded. His tip pressed softly against your enterance, The puppet was already twitching from the contant. "Wrap your legs around me." You complied. and he immediately plunged himself inside you, You moaned loudly while scara hissed at your warmth. "Ah~ Ugh.~ thats it. Just like that.." He bucked his hips up and down, with every thrust his body smashed against yours. "Y-you ah~ You belong to me darling~ G-god your so tight." You gripped tight onto his back, digging your nails into his skin. "I-ah~ Kuni~!" Your tight walls began squeezing against his length, With a couple more thrusts you began shuddering for your already built up orgasm. "Hah~ You wanted this so bad didnt you? Bet you we're Mnh~ Planning for this a while weren't you?"

"So- take it y/n. Hn- Take my seed as your reward like a good girl~!" Kuni bucked his hips hard with final thrust, Coming undone inside and filling you up deeply while soon after your own fluids gushed on his lower body.

Scara sat with you inside him for a matter of minutes, Making sure he painted your walls. He kissed your cheek softy. "Tell me." You calmed down from your high, eyes still a little droopy. "Tell me you love me." He held your hand, Palming your ring finger. Your heart swelled a bit. Did you love him? If you didnt, You would've took action as you planned earlier. Yet you didnt.

"I..I do love you." Unlike your usual silence, It didnt speak for you this time. A part of you still loved him.

a/n- I felt a bit unsatisfied with my past yan scara fics, I know yall enjoyed them, Especially the Jirai kai/kei series but I wanted to try my hand at yan scara again! Regardless thank you for reading and good luck on your future pulls! Furina HERE I COME

[longhardtransitionreturns]

Twilight Sleep

Colonel Hutcherson's blonde bombshell wife has been making waves in our small town since the moment she got off the train in a bright red pin up dress with more creamy cleavage on display than our poor farm boys had ever seen. Her sea green eyes, red lips, and shapely hips on top of the longest set of gams in stilettos to ever set foot here immediately made her gossip fodder for the bar flies and the busy bodies.

They said she couldn't buy bras off the rack because her breasts were so big. That she sent all the way to New York for her stockings. That her hair was falling out because of all the peroxide she bought to keep her hair a brilliant platinum white.

Either she already had a baby growing in that flat belly of hers when she came to town or Colonel Hutcherson put one in her right quick because it wasn't long before Ashley Hutcherson’s already obscene titties were spilling out of her tops and her belly was growing straight out like a bullet. She wore her dresses so tight the whole town knew the very day her belly button popped from an innie to an outie.

I knew Ashley, of course, because I was her OBGYN. One thing I figured out quickly is there were no thoughts behind those pretty eyes. Ashley was so dumb she could barely string a sentence together and I had to explain to her how her baby was going to come out of her tiny little fuck hole. The look of horror on her face when she realized she was going to have to push a watermelon out from between her legs was priceless.

And that was without me telling her that she had an extremely narrow pelvis and Colonel Hutcherson made such large babies his last wife had labored for 3 days to squeeze a 14 pounder out. She could barely walk for weeks and she was a regular size farm girl.

Ashley was so relieved when I told her about the miracles of twilight sleep I almost popped in my pants right there. She was delighted she’d just go to sleep and wake up with a baby, none of the mess of having to push it out. 

When the time came, Colonel Hutcherson delivered her to my home surgery when her pains were regularly five minutes apart. She was so swollen by that point she was wearing nothing but a white silk robe trimmed with lace over her shoulders. Her pretty face was screwed up in discomfort when I opened the car door to help her out.

Her eyes lit up with relief when she saw me. 

“Oh, doctor, I’m so glad to see you. I’m ready to go to sleep now. I don't like how my tummy feels. It hurts!”

She clutched my arm with one hand and her massive, straining belly with the other as we walked inside. We bid goodbye to her husband at the door and I promised to call him. Her kissed her on the cheek and told her to mind the doctor. 

She shivered when I led her into the delivery room and she spotted the steel table in the middle of the room. Her eyes went immediately to the stirrups.

“We’ll put your legs up there to help the baby come, honey, but first we have to get you ready to go to sleep.”

I coaxed her out of her robe, taking a moment to admire her dark, swollen areolas and how the baby had settled low in her elongated belly. She was so big I had to help her up on to the table. She let out a grunt of discomfort as she lay back and the full weight of her overloaded womb and her massive milk laden tits settled on her small frame.

She was pliant as I strapped her legs into the stirrups but she gasped sharply when I ran my finger through her folds. 

“Let's get you ready, Ashley.”

I didn't bother to explain what I was doing or apologize for the cold temperature of the shaving cream as I spread it over her vulva. She had just a smattering of blonde curls but I ran my razor over them anyway just to have a clean work surface.

“That's a good girl,” I reassured as Ashely moaned through a contraction while I wiped the cream and hair away. She was a groaner but she was clearly trying not to writhe too much in the stirrups.

I let her recover from the contraction while I prepared the enema supplies. When I approached her with the tip of the tube and a bit of lube, I saw fear flash across her face for the first time.

“Where's that gonna go?”

I smiled reassuringly. “We need to clean out your insides to make room for the baby.”

I slipped it in quick, shushing Ashley's yelp of protest, and allowed the warm water to start flowing. She was dumb but quickly figured out what was happening when an urgent pressure started to build in her bowels.

“Ow, ow, my belly, it's too full already! It hurts!” She rubbed the underside of her aching orb, trying to twist to the side to alleviate the pain in her gurgling gut but stopped by the straps on her ankles in the stirrups. “I feel like I need to poop, why are you doing this? Ow!”

I pressed my palm against her pelvis, rubbing firmly. She cried out in protest.

“We wouldn't want you to poop on me or your baby's head, no would we, Ashley? I can't believe you're being such a bad girl. I'm sure the Colonel told you to do as the doctor says.”

Ashley looked betrayed now, scared, in indescribable pain, exposed on a table with no way to know what was coming next or to do anything to stop it.

As if to illustrate the point a contraction gripped Ashely's roiling abdomen and she screamed, full throated, as tears streamed down her face. The agony of contracting with a full bag of warm, salty water in her ass broke any last semblance of composure and Ashley started begging me to make the pain stop.

I secured the catch bag underneath her and prepared the drugs I would need to administer twilight sleep while Ashley screamed and pleaded her way through three more contractions. I realized quickly she would need extra restraints while under because she was tossing her aching body wildly, huge tits swinging. 

When I finally removed the plug the noise the laboring woman made was so erotic I got hard instantly. It was a groan of agonized relief followed immediately by a yelp of pain when yet another contraction closed around her middle. 

Ashley was spent, legs splayed limply, her bowels empty and her ass clenching. The baby had dropped so low by this point she was starting to feel him in her aching hips. She was unimaginably full and the ordeal of the enema had taken it out of her.  After the pain passed, she gathered her composure enough to look up at me beseechingly. 

“Put me out now, please. I don’t want to hurt this bad anymore.”

I had to adjust my rock hard cocktail before moving to her side to slip my special cocktail into her IV. I stroked her face as she started blinking and nodding her head from side to side. I watched as awareness left her eyes and her mouth dropped open with a weak groan.

“Ashley?” I tapped her cheeks, moving her jaw from side to side. Her green eyes stared up without recognition. I reached down and tweaked her engorged nipple and her lips opened to emit a moan of pain.

This was my crowning, pun intended, achievement. I'd perfected a scopolamine cocktail that turns the patient’s brain to mush but leaves her aware enough to feel and respond to the pain of labor in order to be a beautiful, brain dead birthing doll for my and my patron's pleasure.

I left Ashely lying on the bed, contracting now about every three minutes and really feeling it, measuring by her noises, to make a phone call. Then I put an oxygen cannula under her nose, cleaned her up between her legs, checked her dilation, and wrapped her wrists and ankles in towels so there wouldn't be any questions about bruises. 

When John Hutcherson arrived, he looked as eager to get the night started as I was. We'd met during the war when I served as the chief medical officer of his battlefield command. We found out one pregnant local girl later that we shared some frowned upon predilections and now, ten years and a lifetime of experience later, we partake of his wealth and my medical genius as often as we can without raising suspicions.

It's John's wife so, of course, he gets to go first and however he likes. He loses his pants quickly after he walks in and sees her strapped spread eagle, her arms straight out and tied to the table and her legs secured in stirrups. She's screaming through a contraction and oblivious to our presence.

John moves on her like an animal in heat, plunging his generous, throbbing member into her exposed, dilating cunt without any preamble. She shouts as she is brutally and unexpectedly skewered on his cock while a contraction is still ripping through her. He doesn't give her even a moment before he starts pistoning in and out of her so hard her back is slapping up and down on the steel table.

Her titties bounce lewdly, slapping from side to side atop her grotesquely swollen belly, as he rails her with all his strength. I finally go up and hold Ashley’s head to keep in from hitting the table due to the force of her husband’s pounding. Her leaking green eyes are filled with fear and pain but it’s also clear the struggling woman isn’t capable of understanding what’s happening to her. Her world has narrowed to the pain and fullness in her tits, hips, and cunt, and as far as she is concerned, it’s never ending. 

Hutcherson blows his first load when she has an especially hard contraction on his cock. He lets out a surprised gasp and then he’s jerking as he’s milked by his wife’s laboring uterus. Their cries blend in the air, one of utter pain and the other of blissful pleasure. 

When he’s finally able to pull out, his flagging cock plops loose with a squelching sound. His cum mixed with blood and amniotic fluid floods out of her and on to the cloth below. 

The brutal pounding leaves Ashley listless and moaning with a little bit of drool making its way down her chin. It’s part of the beauty of the drug that even though she’s blasted out of her mind, her body is going to push the baby out no matter what. 

Over the next several hours, we take turns playing with her engorged nipples, sucking them to induce contractions. John sticks his hand up her through a couple, shivering with arousal when she cries out and tries to get away from the intrusion. Eventually her agonized sounds change to desperate screeches as transition hits and the contractions become longer and unbearable. We each dip into her a few times while she endures the most painful part of labor and both barely keep from cumming when she clamps down on our dicks and wails. 

It takes her hours to get the baby down but it’s huge in her tiny pelvis and when it gets lodged in her hips, she starts vocalizing low, loud grunts as her body tries to expel the huge head. I almost blew my load too soon when I wedged my dick up against her massive stomach and rolled her hips side to side to help urge the huge load down. 

She screamed bloody murder when it finally crowned and John held it there for a good long while, stroking her engorged clit and easing the head out so she didn’t tear. The body was huge, however, and we had to put her legs as far back as we could to help her deliver the shoulders. Her cries of pain echoed off the walls as I roughly jerked the rest of the body out of her sore cunny. A huge flood of liquid shot out of her bloody slit and she was left with her pussy bared, gaped open and dripping birth fluid. 

I handed the baby off to my loyal nurse who maintained the nursery in the next room and turned back to my friend. He was hard a rock, stroking his wife’s ruined cunny. She was still visibly hurting, both from the sheer size of what just came out and the after birth contractions. 

I climbed on top of the beg, squatted over her deflated belly, and put my dick in between her massive tits. Behind me John let out an erotic groan as he sunk his massive length deep into his wife’s loose, bleeding pussy. It made a nasty squelching sound when he pulled all the way back out and slammed back in as hard as he could. He proceeded to brutally rail his wife’s post birth pussy and I came all over her tits while she flopped up and down on the bed, screaming from the pain. 

The next time I saw Lucy, she was back in her white silk robe, a 17lb baby suckling at her ample breast. She’d reapplied her lipstick but her eyes were bloodshot and she looked like she’d been through hell. She woke up initially screaming about the pain in her pussy and she was still sitting awkwardly, an ice pack on her bruised and throbbing sex. 

That being said, she was thrilled she didn’t remember a single bit of it. She thanked me profusely and told her husband she wanted me to deliver all of her babies. Once her poor little cunny healed, of course. 

Josh and I shared a look over her head. We were already counting down to Ashley’s next labor and delivery. 

[southelroydrive]

i'll make your body a habit.

pairing: robin buckley x f!reader summary: you're the guitarist for corroded coffin, known for your flirtatious and confident attitude but little do your fans know how you really are when you're alone with your girlfriend. word count: 3.4k title: own my mind by måneskin warnings: smut (18+ mdni), fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), degradation, multiple orgasms, weed usage a/n: this has been sitting in my notes app for like 3 months and i finally finished it. happy pride everyone <3

it was corroded coffin’s first gig outside of hawkins, a night you and your bandmates had been tirelessly preparing for over the last few weeks. four hours away from the small town of hawkins, indiana and filled with the promise of your first big break into the music industry.

yet, no one was more excited than your girlfriend robin. your sweet robin who was so proud to see her girl on that stage, living your dreams as a reality. your sweet robin who would travel to the ends of the earth just to see you perform.

she’s completely enamored by you as she stands in the crowd, steve right by her side. watching the way your hair sticks to your forehead, beads of sweat rolling down your temple as your fingers dance across the strings of your guitar. the way your hips sway, wide grin stamped on your lips as you let the music lead your movements. heavenly, that’s how she’d describe you.

a tight leather corset covered your torso, tits glistening with perspiration and practically spilling out the top. she couldn’t take her eyes off you even if she wanted to. or your smooth legs completely on display from the miniskirt adorning your waist. deep red in colour, which matches the tint of your lips, dripping in chains and safety pins that robin had watched you meticulously place the night before. watching the way the chains bounced with every snap of your hips to the rhythm of the song, she now knew why as the movement seemed almost hypnotic.

from the corner of his eye, steve can’t help but chuckle at the look of pure infatuation glossing over his best friend’s eyes. he nudges her with his elbow, making her reluctantly tear her gaze away from you to look at him with a frown.

“you’re so whipped, man.” he smirks, the freckled girl only rolling her eyes in response, a muttered “shut up.” falling upon deaf ears before turning back to the stage.

every time you lift your head to catch her eyes, your plump lips curl into an amused smile. your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you send her a playful wink before looking away. robin can’t help but let the corners of her mouth twist up into a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes linger down the length of your body. god, was she lucky.

by the end of your set, your chest is heaving with every deep breath that exhales from your mouth. a bright, toothy grin that lit up the room more than the blinding stage lights ever could spread across your lips as you look out at the crowd. with a bow and the sharing of a few final words, it’s finally over. the grin on your lips never leaving as you follow your bandmates off the stage.

“birdie!”

robin’s eyes snap towards your direction upon hearing your voice. she had just found her way backstage, where you stood beside your fellow bandmates a few metres away. your cheeks flushed bright red, panting for breath and veins bursting with adrenaline. beside you, she sees eddie’s lips moving in what she can only assume is a teasing remark by your reaction. you roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder as you rush past him over to your girlfriend, who envelops you in her arms once the gap between you finally closes.

“oh my god, babe!” her hands cradle the sides of your face, beaming down at you as she presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

“you.” she kisses you again. “were.” and again. “so.” and again. “fucking amazing!”

this time, her lips kiss yours deeply, lingering for just a moment before pulling back. your scarlet lipstick is now smudged, making her own lips pretty pink and glossy. you chuckle at the sight, leaning in to press a final kiss to her lips.

her hands slip to your waist, holding you close to her chest. yours wrap around her neck, fiddling with the ends of her hair. “so… you liked it?”

“are you kidding me?” she laughs, tugging you closer until your body is flush against hers. “you know i love watching you perform, you’re so talented baby.” her hands gently lower to your hips, her thumbs rubbing circles on the bone.

“oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow, a small smile on your lips as you peer up at her through your eyelashes. you tilt your head up, lips inches away from her own. “well, i’m pretty talented at other things too, maybe we coul-“

“hey, ladies!” you groan, pulling your face away from robin’s as eddie slings his arm over your shoulder. a shit-eating grin takes its place on his face, clearly pleased with the flush of embarrassment dusting both yours and your girlfriend’s cheeks. “are you two coming or what?”

you shove his face away from your side, rolling your eyes at his antics. “you’re such an asshole, you know that?” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you give him an unimpressed glare, yet the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips gives you away. this only makes his grin widen, winking at you before turning on his heel. “love you too, sweetheart!” he calls over his shoulder, curly mop of hair disappearing into the bar.

robin’s hand returns to its place on your hip. her other hand gently cupping your cheek and tilting your face up towards her. “hey.”

“m’gonna kill him, i swear,” you mumble, gaze softening under her gentle caress. you lean your cheek into her palm, sighing exasperatedly.

“some other time, yeah? gotta celebrate your big show.” robin pats your cheek affectionately before her hand falls to her side, the other slipping to the small of your back to gently guide you in the direction of the green room.

“fine, fine.” you roll your eyes a final time, a playful smile on your lips as you lean your head against her shoulder.

you spend the next few hours surrounded by your friends, rejoicing in the simmering adrenaline in your veins and the pungent smell of weed. the worn loveseat in the corner of the green room is occupied by you and your girlfriend, sat side by side. your legs drape across her lap, propping your elbow up on the back of the couch. her palm settles on your plush thigh, fingers fidgeting with the chains dangling from your skirt.

you bring the joint in between your fingers to your lips and inhale the smoke into your lungs, before exhaling. your body relaxes back into the chair, letting the drug take its effect on your body. she takes the joint from you, taking a hit herself.

you admire the way her lips wrap around it, held between her slim fingers. your mind can’t help but stray, already fuzzy from the high clouding your mind. you shift a little in your seat, an uncomfortable ache growing between your legs. her eyes meet yours, catching your movements as smoke spills from her lips. she glances around before leaning her head down so only you could hear her.

“something wrong, doll?” her voice drops down to a low, husky hum making the pool of arousal between your legs harder to ignore. her fingers trail up further to fiddle with the hem of your skirt before slipping underneath, feeling the plush skin of your inner thighs.

you shake your head, breath hitching as her fingertips inch closer and closer to where you were begging for her. she kisses her teeth, pinching the inside of your thigh before pulling her hand away. a small whine escapes your throat before you're biting down on your tongue, eyes darting around to see if any of your friends noticed. they didn’t, too immersed in their conversations to pay the two of you any mind.

you hear robin chuckle from beside you, turning to her with a glare. your bottom lip juts out into a pout, only causing your girlfriend’s lips to curl into an amused smirk. “don’t be pouty, baby. you’ll get what you want later.”

your eyes widen, sitting up straighter as you lean in closer to her. “whatever i want?” the curious tilt of your head as your chin rests on her shoulder and the glimmer of excitement sparkling in your eyes almost persuades her to take you to your car that minute. god, she didn’t even think you’d make it to the car and make use of the shitty public restrooms of the gross, dingy bar you were in. but no, that’s not what robin wanted. you deserved the best that night.

“mhm hm. like i said, we gotta celebrate your big show.” she smiles with a shrug of her shoulders, leaning back against the couch as she takes another long drag from the blunt. you can’t help but squirm in your seat, eyes fixated on her for the rest of the night.

robin loved a woman who knew what she wanted, someone who would stop at nothing to achieve their dreams. she loved seeing you on stage, exuding dominance that certainly earned you a dedicated fan base. she loved your flirty and confident nature that could make anyone swoon, her included. and fuck, did she think you looked pretty when you were in your element, fingers wrapped around the neck of your guitar.

but looking at you now, robin thought you never looked prettier than in moments like these.

legs spread wide open in the backseat of your car, skirt bunched up around your waist and lace panties discarded as two long fingers curl inside your plush walls. the leather corset long forgotten, your tits lightly bouncing with every buck of your hips.

your hands grip her wrist, nails digging into her skin as her fingers pump in and out of you at a relentless pace. eyes half-lidded, swollen lips parted. your pussy drools onto the leather seat below you, your inner thighs glistening with your arousal but you’re too far gone to care. as pathetic moans spill from your throat, your hips mindlessly roll against her hand, silently begging for more.

“such a greedy girl, aren’t you? look at you, two fingers stuffed in your needy cunt and you still want more.” she chuckles, eyes darkened with lust as she stares down at you. if she thought you looked heavenly earlier, the image before her now would put that to shame. chest rising and falling with every pant that leaves your puffy, glossy lips, eyes struggling to stay open as she pushes your body closer to pleasure.

her condescending tone goes straight to your head, making your mind even more fuzzy and a whine fall from your lips. the only thing worth thinking about is her and the feeling of her fingers pushing inside of you. your free hand flails to find something to grab onto, landing on her shoulder with a firm grip as she reaches that spongy spot deep inside of you. the car fills with the filthy sounds of her fingers pumping inside of you, along with the broken cries of her name.

“yeah? that feel good? come on, pretty girl. tell me what you want.” her lips graze the shell of your ear, voice a sensual whisper but her words are truly cruel. with the way her fingers are fucking into you, it’s impossible to think let alone speak. your eyes snap up to look at her, brows laced together in a pleading expression as incoherent whimpers leave your lips.

she chuckles, the sound taunting in your ear. “don’t be shy now, i just wanna make you feel good, baby. be a good girl and tell me.” she coos, pressing her lips against your jaw. her fingers continue their merciless pace, her thumb beginning to rub torturous circles on your poor, neglected clit.

“r-robbie please!” you let out a choked gasp as her thumb presses against your clit, a loud moan falling from your lips. your breathing becomes heavier, clenching around her fingers as she pushes you closer and closer to the edge. “god, fuck! baby, m’gonna-“

“yeah? you gonna cum for me?” robin’s almost as breathless as you, her finger hooking under your chin to force your gaze to lock onto hers. as much as your girlfriend loved to tease you and wanted to make you beg for it, tonight was about rewarding you. she looks down at you, eyes hooded with a smirk tugging at her lips when you nod desperately. “go ahead, doll. cum all over my fingers.”

a choked moan leaves your lips, eyes almost rolling back into your head as you gush around her fingers. your thighs tremble uncontrollably, hips involuntarily rolling against her hand as you ride your high. robin feels her own cunt throb as she watches you reach your climax. your face scrunched up in pleasure, walls clamped down around her fingers as they slow, prolonging your pleasure.

“holy shit.” you pant heavily, gasping for breath. your grip on her shoulder loosens, slumping back against the leather seats. a dazed smile rests on your lips, eyelashes fluttering as you come down from your intense orgasm.

“look at you, my gorgeous girl.” she sighs dreamily, nose grazing your cheek as she eases her fingers out of you. she could almost moan from the sight of your juices dripping down her hand, lifting her head to look directly at you as she slips them into her mouth, making a show of licking them clean.

you watch her with bated breath, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as you watch her. pink lips wrapping around slick fingers, her eyes boring into yours as she does so. your trembling thighs press together, a new wave of arousal washing over your body despite how sensitive you were.

her eyes flutter shut, a satisfied groan leaving her lips as her tongue swirls around her fingers. she pulls them out of her mouth with an audible pop, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she sees the way your body reacts. her head tilts down, hot breath tickling your cheek. “you taste so fucking good, baby. you drive me insane.” she mumbles, eyes blown wide with lust as she cradles your jaw.

another pathetic whimper barely escapes from your lips before she’s silencing you with her own. the kiss is sloppy, tongues swirling together hungrily.

when she finally pulls away, her forehead presses against yours as she gazes down at you, smirking at the sight of your flushed cheeks and the uneven rise and fall of your breath, all just for her to see. the hand on the side of your neck shifts to wrap around your throat, a sharp gasp leaving you at the action.

she chuckles, applying a small amount of pressure around your neck, just enough to have a small mewl escape your throat. “yeah? is this what you wanted, doll?” her voice is a seductive rasp, breath fanning across your face. “poor baby just wanted me to treat her like a dirty whore, hm?”

the frantic nod of your head is a clear answer for her. her lips twitch in amusement. “that’s what i thought.”

her grip tightens, pushing your head up with a gentle squeeze. her gaze locks onto yours, half-lidded eyes staring deeply into your own. “you look so pathetic like this. what would they say, baby? what would all those people say if they knew how much of a slut you were for me, hm?”

you whine, an arm lifting up to hide your face in your elbow as her words fill you with embarrassment.

she shushes you, gently guiding your arm back down to your side. “i know, sweet girl… only i can see you like this.” she whispers, her hand moving away to instead grip your thighs firmly.

her lips slowly make their way down your body, shuffling down the backseat of your car. they skim down the valley of your tits, down your stomach. travelling further and further down until they ghost over the inside of your thighs.

your eyes widen as she hooks your legs over her shoulders. she smirks when she comes face to face with your pussy, eyes trained on yours as she leans down.

her tongue slowly slides through your folds, coating it with your slick. she groans, eyelashes momentarily fluttering as she laps up your juices. you let out a high-pitched moan, hand flying to her hair to stable yourself. the vibrations of her grunts and hums make your grip tighten, grabbing fistfuls of her hair.

she’s merciless. tongue licking and sucking like a woman starved. her hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer as her tongue flattens against your folds, slowly dragging up and up until she reaches your clit. her eyes stare up into yours, watching your face twist in pleasure, jaw becoming slack as she wraps her lips around your puffy clit. it elicits a sharp whine from your throat. your hands run through her hair, unable to decide between tugging her away from your sensitive cunt or pushing her head closer.

“fuck, fuck, fuck! ohmygod, r-robs!” the words spilling from your lips are nothing but incoherent whimpers, babbling uncontrollably as she sucks harshly on your clit. hips mindlessly rutting against her face, hands feverishly tugging strands of her hair. you feel her lips curl into a smirk against you, blue eyes piercing through your half-lidded ones.

your thoughts are practically mush, consumed by the overwhelming pleasure that drives you closer and closer to another orgasm. robin can tell, by the way your trembling thighs clench around her head, pushing her even further between your legs, and the way your moans get more breathless and whiny.

she reluctantly pulls her mouth away. the hot breath hitting your pussy, making you squirm. “come on, pretty girl. you gonna give me another one, hm?” she peers up at you, watching your vigorous nod and the desperate buck of your hips. a small chuckle leaves her before she’s burying her head between your thighs once more, eating you out as if her life depended on it.

it’s not long until your back arches off the leather seat, a final broken cry of her name spilling from your lips as you cum on her tongue. she lets out a soft groan, greedily lapping up everything you give her.

“b-baby s’too much!” you whine as her tongue continues to glide through your folds. your thighs tremble with sensitivity around her head, inevitably pulling her mouth away with a harsh tug to her hair.

her mouth detaches from you with a soft laugh. your feet landing on the floor with a soft thud as she sits up on her knees, your legs slipping from her shoulders. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, sweet girl.” she chuckles, patting your thigh comfortingly.

she leans down, resting her forehead against yours as her hands trail up your sides. her touch admiring every dip and curve of your body. there’s a moment of silence between you both, only your heavy breaths filling the void. she tilts her head, pressing her lips against your forehead before leaning back. her back hits the car door, hands finding purchase on your hips as she pulls you into her lap.

her arms wrap around your waist, holding you close to her chest as your face nuzzles into the crook of her neck. she sighs contentedly, nails grazing over the bare skin of your back as your breath tickles her collarbones.

“i’m so proud of you, baby,” she murmurs, pressing her lips against your temple. you hum in response, shuddering as her nails rake over your spine.

“thank you…” you mumble, breath fanning across her neck as you place a tender kiss to her collarbones. her lips curl into a smile, feeling your own smile against her skin.

she puts both her hands on either side of your head, gently lifting it up to look at her. she gazes down at you with pure adoration in her eyes, fingertips grazing your cheekbones as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“my gorgeous, talented girl.” she smiles fondly, touch lingering on your face before she’s pulling you into a sweet kiss.

you could get used to this kind of post-show celebration.

[moochalove]

Last Nights Mistake and Beginnings

(Kazuha x Pregnant!Reader x Scara)

Idk whats even goin on anymore!!!

This fucking sucks and i’m not expecting anyone to read (Damn, you guys eating this up…..) but I kinda had an idea and just went crazy w it….. i will be making a part two because i will go crazy if i don’t😋

word count: idk but it’s pretty long 😊

not proofread 🙏

reader is a little mental and stupid but who isn’t❤️‍🩹

kazuha is sleazy in this fic + a phony + should not be trusted + sorta a cheater but reader is kinda okay with it

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You had met Kazuha at a club. It was your secret getaway from reality and working, your safe haven. Sipping your drink you stood away from the crowds simply minding yourself and taking in the noises of chatter and laughter. You enjoyed it. Glancing around at the faces you noticed this fairly handsome man. He noticed you too, he handed his drink to his friends as they cheered and laughed at him walking over to your direction.

You stifled a small giggle as you brushed your hair back and started with a simple “Hi.” While exchanging names you took this time to glance at his features, his beautiful porcelain skin, and silky smooth white hair with a dashing red streak placed in the center, he was gorgeous you thought to yourself.

The night was spent full of giggles and flirtatious gestures. It may have been the alcohol clouding your mind but every time you glanced at him you felt the sudden urge to take him home with you, you weren’t sure what you would do when you got home, would you stare at him and apologize then sending him home? Or would you let the alcohol take full control and sleep with him? Both options don’t sound too bad but you eventually decided the latter.

Twirling your soft hands through his medium-long locks your gaze settles on him as you plant a kiss to the side of his face. You waited to see if he would reciprocate. Kazuha pulled your hands out of his hair and pinned them above your head as he pinned you against the wall, hot mouth clashing into yours. Holding back your small moans you rub up against him and his slight bulge, pulling away you gasp for air as a string of saliva connects the two of you. Looking at him with yearning eyes he picks you up and leaves the club (of course after you pay for your drinks.)

Once you returned to your house you quickly stripped off both of your clothes while making your way to the bedroom. Giggling all along the way you reach the bed as you embrace each other before he starts kissing up on your neck. Rubbing your hands through his soft hair you think to yourself, “It is silky..” laying back you take in the clouded view before everything goes dark.

You can’t seem to remember what happens next although you’re certain you both know.

In the morning you’re alone.

The bed is a mess, it seems only your clothes are scattered throughout the house. “Maybe he’s in the bathroom?” Circling around the couches you make your way down the hall towards the bathroom. You knock once. No answer. You’re certain he’s gone so you open the door. Nothing. Looking around you noticed the floor was wet, maybe he took a shower before he left. The mirror stares back at you and you then notice how sad you look. What were you expecting? For him to say he loved you truly and that he was gonna stay? No, it was a one-night stand. That’s all.

Uh oh, looks like your last night mistakes were here to haunt you. Lurching forward you spew out contents from last night. Deciding it would be best to wash up you go to grab fresh clothes and a towel before checking your phone. Maybe he left you a message. Nothing. Shaking your head you jump in the cold shower and begin to wash up.

A couple of months had passed and boy, has it been a crazy couple of months… You were in your 19th week and you just played it off by saying you’ve been stress eating and it was just “weight gain” but your doctors said otherwise. Every now and then you wondered if you should’ve contacted Kazuha as soon as you knew but a voice inside your head told you not to burden him. From what you learned that fateful night he had told you he was a free spirit and that he could possibly never settle. Being drunk and stupid you said, “Oh yeah totally, I could NEVER think about wanting to commit to anything other than work! Life’s too short to being chained down in one place forever!!” Maybe that’s what sold him on you. Both of you having a fun night with no regrets. Alas, all good times must come to an end and you must face the consequences of your drunken actions, so here you were, trying on different outfits to hide your small baby bump. You needed to expand your wardrobe to more concealing outfits and more jackets.

As you leave the store you see him. Kazuha is wandering around the mall with his friends, laughing and having a good time. You want to turn the other way and leave but you can’t help but stare for a moment hoping he doesn’t notice you. He does, he runs over and hugs you. You’re stunned and can’t seem to piece together words. “Y/n! How have you been?” He says out of breath from running. You blush faintly as he looks at you. Slowly swaying the bag of clothes behind you, “I’ve been good? And you? I haven’t seen you in awhile haha..” you trail your laugh as you look away. “Oh yeah, last time we…” a cute pink blush dusts his face as he seems more interested in the floor all of a sudden, “Anyways… I just thought I’d come by and say hi. Actually- I was wondering if you wanted to go out and grab drinks with me and my friends.” He turns back to look at you sheepishly. You really don’t want to but you don’t wanna make it seem like you’re avoiding him. “Uh.. I would but I have to drop some things off first, haha.. Um, you guys go ahead and I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?” “Oh right, it seems I caught you in the middle of shopping, my bad. Yeah you can stop by when you’re done. We’ll be at the usual place! I’ll see you later.” He places a quick kiss to your cheek as he runs back to his other friends. Quickly turning away you decide to just leave through a different exit not wanting to cross paths with them again.

Once you get home you slowly drop to the ground as you rub you head. You shouldn’t have said you would go.

Entering the club you smile waving at familiar faces and spot Kazuha and his friends in the secluded corner. If you remember correctly it’s Scaramouche, Heizou, Ayaka, and Xinyan. Oh and sometimes Venti, Ayato, and Thoma. He waved towards you as he gestured for you to sit down by him, he was sitting on the outer corner of the round table so if you needed to get up and leave you could. Once you sat down you felt your stomach twist with anxiety. You simply started counting the things you could see and hear.

“I’m not sure if you’ve met her but this is my friend Y/n!” He turned to smile at you “We’ve been friends for awhile now.” Nodding along you speak “Hello. Nice to meet you all!” You smile at them all. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Y/n, Im Ayaka!” She greeted with you a smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Heizou!” he reached over the table to shake your hand “ah, what a surprisingly firm grip!” shaking your hand once more he returned to his seat. Turing slightly to the left you turn to face Xinyan, “We’ve heard many interesting things about you!” “O-oh like what?” Xinyan exclaimed, “Oh just the basics, Yknow like what your favorite color is, favorite band, food and what-not! Kazuha can’t seem to stop talking about ya’!” She gave a playful wink as she giggled possibly implying something. Kazuha grabbed your shoulder shifting you closer to him as his friend who you hadn’t noticed was not at the table sat down. Ah, it’s Scaramouche. He sat down at the end and you felt your fist clench. There goes your way of leaving, sure you could ask him to move but the things you’ve heard about him you decided your personality don’t clash well so you would be best to just avoid talking to him unless needed. The waiter came over and asked for everyone’s order, when it was your turn you just decided to get water, alcohol wasn’t something you planned on drinking tonight because you didn’t want a repeat of last time, plus it wouldn't be good for you. “Oh, no drinks tonight Y/n?” Kazuha looked like a sad puppy. “Nah, I’m good, I have work in the morning and I’d rather not wake up with a pounding headache. Next time though!” You hoped there wouldn’t be a next time. “Okay then!” He gathered the menus and handed them back to the waiter then slyly hung his arm around you.

You tried to pretend it wasn’t there and listen into the bustling atmosphere like you once did. Of course, though someone had to bring you into the conversation. It’s not like you hated them but you wish you had met them under different circumstances. “So, Y/n what do you plan to do in the future? I hear you have a nice paying job but it goes against your ideals. How are you gonna deal with that?” Scaramouche asked as he sipped on his non-alcoholic drink. Had you said something in your drunken state to Kazuha? Oh no what if you embarrass yourself what if- “Oh come on Scara try and ask some interesting questions, that’s boring! I wanna hear what her love life is like!” Ayaka retorted. “U-um well I don’t really have time for love in my life haha, If anything I’d rather avoid it, but I guess if I met THE one I wouldn’t mind keeping them around for the ride… haha I hope that answers your question..” you trail off before taking a big sip of your water. At this point you couldn't decide if you wanted to play as a “love interest” for Kazuha of if you would just avoid acting love-dovey with him.

Ayaka nodded agreeing with what you said “I agree! Although I would be way more open! You can’t be picky when it comes to love!” She sharply turned towards Kazuha, “You're next, Kazu!” Pushing his hair back he sighed “Ayaka we already talked about this…” She leaned across the table “But it’s a great icebreaker question!” Realizing her position she sat down with a quick “ahem..” “Looks like our princess is fired up! Haha, cmon now Kazuha you know how she gets when she’s like this! Answer!” To be honest you were kinda curious despite your current dilemma in your head. “I like it when they’re strong-willed, courageous, soft, long hair, oh, and someone who likes to cuddle!” “Is that all?” “Mmm, just the surface but I don’t wanna bore you guys all night long” Ayaka’s hands clapped together as she smiled brightly “See these are great ice-breaker questions!” “Eh, not really..” said everyone in unison. Ayaka then proceeded to ask everyone else the same question, You don't really remember most of their answers except that Xinyan likes men and women who are more on the stronger side- both mentally and physically. Heizou said he preferred anyone taller than him, and Scaramouche said he only wanted someone who knew how to cook.

They rambled on a bit more before Heizou and Xinyan took their leave claiming they needed to get to the local gaming store to pick up their copy of the latest game that came out. Now that the bright extroverts were gone you weren't sure what to do or say. Ayaka had made some effort to talk about random things but quickly ran out of topics to talk about. Growing tired by the minute you soon began to build up the courage to say you were going to leave, the bustling atmosphere seemed no longer enjoyable, and Kazuha seemed too busy playing footsies with Ayaka to even say anything to you. “I thi-” Scaramouche grabbed your hand suddenly, yanking you off the seat, “We're gonna go grab some drinks! We’ll be back!” he said looking back at them before waving nonchalantly at them.

Guiding you through the small crowds of dancers you're trying to make sense of the situation, “Um-” “God you're pathetic.” Was he really insulting you??? You didn't even do anything to him??? A confused expression plastered your face, “I'm sorry what?” “I said you're pathetic. Have you not noticed?” Sitting down at the bar stool you look at him even more confused, trying to recall if you had done or said something. “You think he's into you?” Oh, it's about Kazuha. “Listen, I never said he was into me- Aren't you jumping to conclusions?” “Why you little… Have a look for yourself” he spun your seat around you could see them through the small crowds: Kazuha and Ayaka staring at each other like a young couple in love, You could immediately tell how serious they were about each other. “You wouldn't wanna ruin such a young and happy relationship would you, Y/n?” You turn back around laying your head in your arms, “So what am I supposed to do? I'm just his friend. Nothing I can do-” Turning back around you cock your head to the side. “Doesn't it make you angry? Seeing him getting all lovey-dovey with someone other than you?” Was he trying to get you riled up? Seriously? “Listen, we had one night together, that's all. If you know everything why don't you go ask him yourself?” You can feel yourself breaking little by little. “I would but it seems he's busy right now!” He really was trying to piss you off for his own entertainment, huh.. “Oh please I don't need the person who only wants a lover who knows how to cook to make him happy trying to control MY love life.” “Oh yeah? Well, I don't want someone who has one-night stands to tell me what I think is good!!” you both were getting louder by the second. “Yet you clearly have shit taste!!” “Said the one who is practically married to her job!!” “Oh yeah? Oh yeah?? I hear you go around bumming money off your mo-” “SCREW YOU” “SCREW YOU TOO” Almost everyone at the bar witnessed you two pulling each other's hair and yelling curse words at each other.

Not long after you were both escorted out and left on the side of the street.

“Look what you did!” Scaramouche yelled at you, You weren’t really concerned about him but instead tried digging through your purse for your car keys. Once you found them you headed towards your car, “Yeah yeah, whatever. I’m headed home. Please let Kazuha know I got home safe and- why are you getting in my car?” Scaramouche lowered himself into the seat before covering his face with his hands, but peeking through his fingers, “Crap… why is she here… she never leaves her office- and who is that with her? Oh, it’s that sly vixen bit-“You looked at him confused before realizing who he was talking about. “Isn't that your mo-” “Shut it- she's no mother to me!” Starting the car you start to check all your mirrors making sure it’s okay to pull out.

“I think she's gone so you can come out no- OHSHIT GET IN THE BACK AND HIDE YOURSELF.” “Why-” practically tossing him in the back you comb through your hair and turn up the radio a little to cover the sounds of Scara struggling.

“Y/n? I just came out to look for you! Why're you leaving so suddenly?” Leaning in a weird position your arms are awkwardly posed as you force a smile. Normally, you're calm and collected, ready to behave falsely, but this time you were caught off-guard. “Did something happen between you and Scara-” “NO,” with a short ‘ahem’ you straighten out. “Nope! Nothing at all! I was just feeling a little nauseous, so I'm gonna head home-” he placed a quick kiss on your head before caressing your face, “Get well soon, my love.” Stiffening up before you melted into his warm touch, and placing a small peck on his knuckles, “Oh, Kazu, I'll be just fine. Don't worry about me-” Noticing how his face lit up at the fact you said you'd be fine made you wonder if you were holding him back from his precious time with Ayaka. “I'll let you go then.” Snapped from your thoughts you pull away and set your hands on the wheel, “I love you, and I'll see you later.” Nodding you reply with a simple ‘bye’ before you watched him head back to the club.

You really were just a side fling. Something he could play with with, knowing you would be just fine. Right? You’ll be fine, won’t you?

Tears started to roll down your soft cheeks. “I hate him.” Gripping the wheel you slip and speak your intrusive thoughts, “I should run him over” “HUH?” Scara exclaimed as he pulled your clothes off himself, “OHFUCK, I FORGOT YOU WERE HERE… UMMM…..” “Damn, Y/n, you have it rough… Almost makes me feel bad” he snickered before fondling the clothes that had concealed him. “Um, anyways, why do you have maternity? clothes in your car?” You froze for a second before laughing and putting up a front, “For my sister. She's expecting,” you stated blankly as you turned the corner and left the club parking lot. “Sister?” Scara almost didn’t buy it but it wasn’t his place to pry for details. “Well, never mind then.” Hands relaxing on the wheel you decide to feed him more details so he’s sold on the idea of your sister, “She’s in her 19th week, from what I heard from my parents is that she’s expecting a baby boy. Can you believe I’ll be an aunty?” With a soft chuckle, he agreed, “I can agree actually, you almost have all the qualities to be a mother, so why not an aunty- at least what I hear from Kazuha- not that I think you-“ “It’s fine, I get that a lot from people!” “Really?” “No.” “I hate you...” Laughing in response you start to feel a bit nauseous again so you pull over on the side of the road. “Sorry, my head hurts really bad so I’m gonna stop for a second. Just to be safe, of course.” Humming in response he crawled back up into the front and started to browse through the radio channels, finally choosing a radio that streamed classical music he laid his head back.

You weren't thinking about anything peculiar, wishing for this throbbing pain to go away, but that was it. Scara on the other hand… He wondered to himself if he had read Kazuha’sand your “situationship” wrong. Maybe he was into you? Were you also into him the same amount? Were your feelings real? Why was he so intent on keeping you away from him? Was it for Ayaka’s sake? No- that doesn’t make too much sense. You seemed to love and hate him equally… He wasn’t sure but all he knew now was that you weren’t ALL that bad. His thoughts were cut off-

“Sooo, where do you want me to drop you off?” He thought for a moment. Kazuha would probably bring Ayaka back to their shared apartment before her brother would come looking for her, so that’s a no. Home? Knowing his mom wouldn’t be there didn’t seem so bad. But he also wanted to make sure you got home safe, why? he himself wasn’t too sure.Maybe it was the very little “gentleman” in him his mother had molded him to be.

He knew he would regret this but he asked anyways, “Do…” shyly looking out the window he seemed more interested in the passing cars in the distance, “Do you think I could crash at your place tonight- I don’t really wanna go ‘home’ right now,” squeezing the wheel you hesitantly agreed, “No I totally get it- Really it’s fine!” turning towards you he looked like a frail cat who’s eyes lit up at the sight of food. Turing your blinker on and waiting for ongoing cars to pass you merge onto the road.

“Thanks, Yn… I was honestly expecting you to dump me on the side of the road.” he spoke so sincerely.

Once you got him the sudden realization of all the baby clothes and diapers were left out in the front you panic for a second. “A-ah… I just remembered my living room is a mess right now… Um- wait out here for a sec, i’ll be quick,” fumbling with your house keys you squeeze the door not allowing him to see too much inside. Scara quirked an eyebrow but was soon distracted by a scrawny cat walking up to him, mewling hoarsely.

Leaning down he decided it needed his divine attention!

Grabbing all the clothes laying out you stuff them into a giant box and sprint to your room, hiding them under your bed, same with the diapers but instead grabbing gift wrapping paper and what ever you could find before stuffing them into your closet. If for some reason he were to look in your closet all he would find is gifts for your beloved sister! Scanning the room one last time you make sure nothing is left out.

Rushing back to the you invite Scara in you immediately take notice he is busying himself with one of the neighborhood cats you feed. “I would have never guessed you liked cats,” posing against the doorframe you smile down at him, “But I guess I can’t blame you!” Scara seemed to be in his own world petting and rubbing the cat’s fluffy fur with the occasional twig intertwined between it. “Does she have a name?” He asked gently not wanting to make too much noise to startle the purring cat. “Mmm, I’ve just been calling her MeowMeow.” Leaning down next to him you gently stroke behind her ears as she curls into your touch. “I found her cold and weak a couple of weeks ago. It seems like she's not fattening up yet…” Scara turned to look at you angrily, “And you didn't take her to the vet?” “I have a good paying job, yes- but with how much my bills are a month….” you quickly retorted already feeling guilty about not getting MeowMeow checked out.

All he could do was pinch the bridge of his nose before sighing, “I’ll pay for her vet fees- if you'll allow me-” Ah, he meant he was gonna use its moms money but nonetheless your eyes glistened with hope that he was being serious, “Really? You're not joking are you?” You leaned closer to him with desperation, “Tell me you're not joking,” He didn't seem to mind the closeness between you two as he continued to pet the cat's fur, “Of course, why would I be joking?” said a slightly annoyed Scaramouche. “Well- I'm not too sure actually…..” The silence made itself known as you both eventually took turns petting the poor cat before you went to get her wet food. She ate her food quickly before returning to wherever she came from, leaving you and Scara standing in the cold.

“I… I cleaned up so you can come in now.” Without saying anything he walked inside, plopping himself onto your spacious couch. He tried to loosen up a little but couldn't seem to get comfy. You, on the other hand, had washed your hands and were preparing some food for you both, simple ham and cheese sandwiches with some juice for the both of you before you went to sleep. Scara found his way to the guest bathroom while you left his food for him on the sofa. You scrolled the TV waiting for him to come out just in case he needed anything.

Once he came out he looked a little more relaxed, face freshly cleaned and dried. Putting the remote down you lean over to grab some blankets out of a basket, “So, I made you a sandwich with some juice to drink- the TV is here if you wanna watch anything and I've got some blankets in case you get cold-” He simply nodded, “What time should I be gone?” “Well, unless you have a ride, I suppose whenever. But if I'm your ride probably by 10 or 11- Let me know if sooner though.” Scara made himself comfy before replying, “Whenever you wake up is fine. Goodnight, Y/n.”

Walking down the hall into your room you shut the door before lying down and eating your yummy-looking sandwich. Once you finish you decide to get some sleep not wanting to think too much about the fact Scaramouche is here and how your night went. Slowly but surely you drift off into a light sleep…

THATS WAS SO LONG BUT THIS IDEA HAS BEEN ROTTING MY BRAIN!! TY FOR READING IF U DID <33