#i've had some wine and it brings out the whine)

[sparklingbinjuice]

can't believe i finished nanowrimo 4 times in a row and now i can barely get 4 words written in 4 days. i am shaking my fist at the heavens god why

[curtins]

SALVATORE — jujutsu kaisen x reader minors dni

prologue. → going on summer vacations with the jjk men and things get a little...hotter?

pairings. satoru gojo x afab!reader / suguru geto x afab!reader / nanami kento x afab!reader / choso kamo x afab!reader / ryomen sukuna x afab!reader / toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings+. non-sorcerer/jujutsu au, from the back, exhíbitíonism, mild food play, ríding, máting press, creámpíe, against the wall, oral (f. receiving), fíngeríng, hey even in a cave! reader is called good girl, princess, baby, darling, my love.

word count. 4.1k! song inspiration. salvatore — lana del rey

a/n. update #1 writing this fic had me looking up shit on wikipedia pages abt cities around the world, had me checking meteorology maps...tried to choose cities i've been to but i was still racking my brains. update #2 btw whenever i write smut like this i'm filled with outstanding self awareness and minor shame but thats the fun of it 😭 this is day no.3 of me trying to rewrite this all from scratch update #3 day 4! fawkkkk i wanna go on holiday too now. lmao if i was in the sukuna one, i would have been mad as hell, istanbul is stunning <3

mp3. everything looks better from above my king, like aqua marine, ocean's blue

TOJI FUSHIGURO — all the lights in miami begin to gleam 📍 miami, america

"o-oh, fuck. think she's really tellin' me to keep going like this, don'tcha think?"

your boyfriend is mean when he's like this. sharp, jade eyes narrowed as they take in the sight of your puffy folds swallowing him up over and over as he's stuffing himself into your sticky walls. and if you turn your head away, from where you're smashed against the pillow, you can see the floor-to-wall ceilings of the high-rise penthouse that offers an uninterrupted view of miami's glittering skyline.

"how - how, did you even get this place, hah, toji?" it's a wonder you can even get a coherent sentence out right now, your guts are practically being stuffed with inches of your boyfriend's veiny cock, and it's leaving you, well, delirious.

but with humble credit and thanks to what you can assume is your own nasty grip, toji's not faring much better either. his brawny frame is practically shuddering, and while you can't see his face in this position, you're certain that a sharp canine has sunk into his lip, and his breath is coming out in hulking groans.

"heh, you're n-not meant to ask questions like that, princess? gotta, ohhh, gotta keep some business s-secrets up my sleeve, huh?" and he's practically a beast right now, handling you on all fours of this king-sized bed, draped in silk sheets the colour of red wine, "just a reward for a-, haah, a job well done."

any job well done from toji was most likely something illegal, but you can't even bring yourself to care, not when there's a bucket of chilled champagne on the glass table to your left, and certainly not when his fat cock is smearing right through you, leaving a coil in your abdomen that only he can unravel.

you whine, feeling the fat tip of his cock practically rummage and make a home in your cunt, "toji, wan' more," and you're pushing the plush of your ass against his pumping hips, and you hear his sharp intake of breath.

a rough hand has snaked underneath you, creating a small gap between you and the bunched-up fabric on the bed, and his callous fingertips are now circling sloppy, messy circles over your clit, leaving you bucking in his hold.

"n-now, stay still, princess. not done with you yet."

SUGURU GETO — ciao, amore. soft ice-creams. 📍 amalfi coast, italy

you're not sure how long you've been trembling under suguru's mouth, but it must have been an eternity under the ministrations of his tongue.

the sun has been blazing high, casting a golden glow over this part of the private beach, hidden away from the towns bustling with tourists like yourselves who had descended upon the coast for the summer.

soft waves lapped in ebbing waves, the rhythm breaking the perfect stillness of the afternoon, in this wooden cabana, separated from the terracotta villas.

and no, your mind was nowhere near admiring the turquoise waters of the ocean, but rather your lover's mouth practically exploring every inch of your cunt like this.

the tapered tip of his tongue had long been probing around your fluttering pussy, taking in every last drop of your pearlescent luster that was practically dripping over his chin.

not to mention the absolutely sticky and languid trails of melting ice-cream, each biting cream drop that fell on your hot swollen folds getting promptly cleaned up by the one who was enjoying this sweet game.

"shhh! don't wanna get kicked off this beach, do ya, pretty?"

and suguru looks positively devious, his violet eyes gleaming with crude intent. his black hair is a tangled mess, long locks falling victim to your clawing nails that tumble carelessly over his bare back, kissed by the sun and glowing with a soft, rosy pink hue.

and when he smiles, the sunlight catches onto his lips, making the slick on his mouth sparkle and wink up at you.

"been - it's been an entire hour by now, can't you just let me cum," you huff, closing the plush of your thighs around his ears, boxing him in.

geto flashes you a mischievous grin, running a slow finger through your sopping folds, and lightly brushing over your entrance as you mewl again.

"where would the fun in that be, pretty?" he murmurs, "love seeing how wet this cunt gets for me, need to let me have my fun."

what a devil. clearly, getting under your skin is a sport for him.

you're hardly given a moment to breathe before he's jostling two thick digits right into the thick of it once more, in and out, in and then out, as his thumb find its home on the slope of your bare mound again.

"besides, we can take it slow for 'nother hour, can't we?" and now suguru's toying with your clit, and his teeth lean down to graze the swollen, throbbing bud, "gotta see just how much you can beg for me."

NANAMI KENTO — catch me if you can, working on my tan 📍 gold coast, australia

"w-wait, darling," nanami shudders under your touch, under your fresh set of nails raking small patterns over his neck, "anyone could just walk past here, y'know."

you curl your lip, before pressing your mouth in an open mouthed kiss to his stretched neck, warm and flushed.

you can feel the galloping thrum of his pulse beneath your lips, the heat almost intoxicating, mingling with the faint tang of the pool water's chlorine, and the scent of banksia and frangipanis in the air.

you can also feel his thick cock dragging through your walls, as you ram the weight of your hips over and over again. it seems like the shimmering skyline of surfer's paradise was just what nanami needed, after months of work, and you're determined to make the most of your time here.

he's got you bouncing practically like a ragdoll, heavy balls swinging up and smacking your skin in what little space remains between the two of you, and he's panting into your chest, "whatd'ya gonna do if someone sees?"

"mhm, don' care, no-one's here, nanami."

his broad arms loop around you in the pool chair, as you straddle the sizeable bulge that's making a tent in his briefs, "nasty, sometimes, aren'tcha?"

you smile, as your husband's large hands roam over your back, making you arch your back into his touch — as he deftly pulls at the tight knot holding your damp bikini top together.

"ah, don't get shy now. let me see these," and you can only nod hazily as he lets your tits spill out, and press up against his bare, chiselled torso, "wanted this so bad, just a minute ago, yeah?"

"s-still want this," and for good measure, you grind your hips down over his cock with even more pressure, feeling him jolt with a quiet 'fuck!' underneath you.

"haah, that's not fair, darling," and he's crashing his weeping, curved tip so far into you, that you're certain you're seeing stars on the saltwater horizon, "what happened to playing nice?"

you know you should be weary of the flicker of challenge that glints in his stern brown eyes, softened by the haze of your squelching cunt, "do y-your worst, otherwise what? can't keep up?"

a cocky smile curves over his mouth, and that's the wave of satisfaction you were looking for, hoping that he'd take the bait.

he leans further back in the pool chair, now with an arm wrapped lazily around your gyrating hips, but you can feel his grip tighten, stealing the humid air right out from under you, "we'll see who can't play nice when you're begging for my cock to fill you up."

CHOSO KAMO — all the lights are sparkling for you, it seems 📍santorini, greece

"hey, shh, shhh..."

choso's voice is a low rumble as he glides his thick, leaking tip down your slick core, and you shiver as the cool ocean breeze mixes with the warm slick gathering between your bodies, "w-wow, you're doing so good, handling it so well, my love."

you must have made a good choice, choosing this suite. one carved seamlessly into the tan-rock of one of the island's famous caves. and well, your sweet boyfriend has been fucking you so incredibly that you feel your eyes start to water, blear away from the pretty blue and terracotta accents on the mantelpiece.

his girthy cock sinking into you send shivers to your pussy that leave you fluttering and squeezing around him tighter, clenching around the veins as he sinks even deeper, so the thickened head is practically kissing your cervix, and filling you in ways you didn’t know were possible.

"d-does it feel good for you too, cho?” you gasp, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the soft choppy strands that fall around his shoulders, "this...this is what you wanted, right, baby?"

the pale mauve of his lips curves into a faint smile, and despite the sharpness of his thrusts making a home in your gummy walls, there's a tenderness in his shadowed, hazel eyes as his palm glides down your torso, cupping your tits gently, "w-would go anywhere in the world, if it was with you."

and he's looking at you with such love that you just cannot help but believe him when he says, no, shudders out a "you're so beautiful."

the sound of the water lapping against the rocks below fills the room, mixing with your soft whimpers, as the slow roll of choso's hips leave your puffy folds weeping. the thick, throbbing head of his cock brushes against your g-spot, right there, and you moan, lost in the sensation.

"god, y-you’re so good at this," he breathes into your ear, his voice hoarse and strained, and suddenly far more shaky, "ah - could do this forever."

"w-will you?" you whisper, eyes fluttering as you lose yourself in what is surely ropes of stringy white cum painting you lovingly inside, "wan' feel you all the time, cho."

choso's misty, flushed gaze locks onto yours, filled with a heat that makes your heart race, and fireworks shoot through your abdomen, "think you're g-gonna be my wife someday, yeah?"

you bite your lip, a shy smile painting your face despite the way that he's practically jostling inch after inch into your pussy, pressing into you like a vice, "really mean t-that, cho?"

"ahh, 'course i do," he shudders, brushing a thumb down the swan-arch of your neck, "now, hold onto me."

RYOMEN SUKUNA — dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily 📍istanbul, turkey

"huhh, oh my god! you're an animal," you huff at your fiancé, who's currently sprawled on the plush bed underneath your straddling thighs, under the sheer curtains that billow softly in the warm breeze from the open latticework windows.

and right now, sukuna looks like a mess.

and it brings you a great deal of satisfaction to see your usually composed and aloof fiancé so undone and disheveled, as he grins up at you — the black markings on his face creasing with the movement.

his rosy-pink hair is a tangled heap, but you can't resist running your fingers through the short, tousled spikes.

and his lips, which have been marking you up consistently for the past ten minutes, gleam glossy and full, as his crimson eyes lock onto yours with the smug satisfaction of a cat who's gotten its way.

he'd barely waited a mere minute after the two of you had arrived back to your hostel's room, from a whirlwind tour of the sultanahmet district, before he had pounced on you, and had practically tore your long skirt off.

you don't quite think it's worth mentioning that you've been pawing equally at your boyfriend in the same time as well, pulling his thick and lengthy shaft out of the confines of his boxers, and swiping a thumb over the angrily-gleaming tip.

"d-didn't even take a second to think about all the places we just saw? the history lessons, and - sukuna, were you even listening?"

by now, you're fighting back heaving shivers at the way the pads of his calloused fingers run under your top.

"hah! yeah, yeah. history and all that," he murmurs, low and amused, but his focus is clearly elsewhere, his lips now resuming their previous task of snapping at your torso, letting pretty berry-red marks beam.

you roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of your own glossy mouth, "y-you're impossible," and you try not to squirm as his forefinger and thumb on each hand pinch at a nipple under your top, "don' even know why i bothered bring this...this camera around. the guide said that these sights were o-once, oh fuck, sukuna, get a grip, said the sights were once-in-a-lifetime b-breathtaking."

"breathtaking, huh?" sukuna shifts closer to you, scooting you further over his wide lap, and his voice has dropped to a low and sultry whisper that sends a shiver down your spine, and leaves you aching, "i think you're breathtaking. wan' explore this," and here, he snaps at the elastic band of your lace panties, "instead."

"and besides, i was listening," and now, he's patting his sculpted, exposed thighs behind the plush of your ass on him, "the guide said that this city straddles two continents."

he's emphasising his words with a deliberate tap, clearly hoping you'd catch the awful word-play.

"say something like that again, and i'm booking the next flight home."

"hah, so now you hate it when i am cultured."

by now, his two rough hands kneading at you has left you...airless. thick heat has been pooling in your core, and you just can't help but let out a soft whimper, "sukuna…only wanted y-you to focus."

he shakes his messy head, laughter rumbling deep in his chest, under thick pectoral muscles, "no can do, brat. you’re my focus now. done enough sightseeing outside today, wanna do something inside."

"you’re impossible!" but you gasp as he skims a thumb over your cloying, dewy clit, making you jolt.

you know he must be in a rare, mellowed mood because he breathes, "impossibly in love with you," and it's quiet, teasing as the heat of his breath ghosts over your skin, "now tell me how much you want this, and maybe i'll think about giving you a different type of lesson."

franky, by now you want nothing more than to be filled with heavy, hot inches that curl into you, sloshing their way to the most sensitive spot of all, and sukuna must see that on your face.

"i -," you begin, but the words falter as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, and the weeping tip of his cock taps against the wet pool staining your underwear darkly translucent.

"just say it, brat. tell me how bad you want it, i'll even be nice this time," he urges, his voice a sultry purr, "just gon' give it to you as you ask, yeah?"

"wan' you in me, 'kuna," you finally admit, breathless, "i want you so much it hurts."

"good girl," he mutters, his eyes darkening with desire. "now you're getting the right idea."

you sigh, content, but then still your rocking hips suddenly, "but after this, we're still going out to the bazaar for dinner."

"for fuck's sake."

GOJO SATORU — like a boss, you sang jazz and blues 📍paris, france

you're not quite sure where exactly you should be training your ears, whether you should be listening to the sultry notes of a saxophone that wrap around the plush velvet booth where you and gojo are seated.

or the thick, clingy swish of his fingers practically bullying themselves in and out of your pussy. the air is thick with the scent of expensive cigars that make you wrinkle your nose, and fine whiskey (that makes gojo wrinkle his nose) and the sweet tang of your own slick, privately, just for the two of you.

your boyfriend sits close to you, his left hand tight on your waist, and the other working a fine instrument, bunching up underneath your ysl silk dress.

"baby, look at how your perfect cunt's talkin' to me," he's whispering, and you can hear the sheer glee in his voice, his breath hot against your ear.

meanwhile, your jaw is slack and you're doing your best to not meet his touch with a sultry, rhythmic grind of your own hips, but the knot is quickening and tightening within you.

but gojo just smiles, and you can see the blue in his eyes darken underneath his sunglasses that have slipped slightly down the slope of his nose, "but can't have everyone hearing this melody, can we? might think you were the main fuckin' attraction for the night and not -" he cocks his head to the quartet serenading the paris night sky, and the other patrons of this filthy wealthy club.

you just sink your teeth into your painted lip, suppressing a whine as he curls three fingers within you, reeling you entirely pliant and having you lean against his broad chest under his jacket, "b-but satoru, 'm getting close."

he's being awful, you think. and when he had pulled his hand out earlier, it had been entirely coated in a ribbon of your arousal, the slow syrup beginning to run down his slender digit, but he had parted his lips and let not a drop go to waste on his tongue.

the music is swelling, it's a jazzy crescendo that fills the air, and your gaze hazes and wonders, focusing on the open window where the eiffel tower stands ablaze in lights. soft gasps are escaping your lips, when gojo starts slamming his fingers up and up further, right up to his glossy knuckle, clearly searching for your g-spot.

and you are so glad that this booth is turned away from the rest of the club's patrons, for if they saw you, it would be no secret as to what exactly was going on underneath your gown.

"focus on me, love. just focus on how you're soaking me."

he's pressing his fingers impossibly deeper, stroking your walls in a way that make it impossible to think of anything else but him.

"gojo, please…" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice low, "what if someone sees?"

he laughs, pressing his mouth to your neck, and you know he's inhaling the new scent that you had picked up at the luxury flagship stores earlier, his treat.

"let them. paid good enough money to get in here," and now he's getting more insistent, practically ravishing your aching pussy now, "besides, they wanna say anything about it? i'll cut out their tongue."

"p-pretty sure that's, mmph, i'm sure that's i-illegal, 'toru."

"don't want your pretty head thinking about anything else right now, 'kay?" and god, it's one of life's greatest works, how he just knows how to work his magic like this, and the way that he's pinching, rolling and twirling his fingers has you convinced that the holy six-eyes technique, passed down in the sacred tradition of the gojo clan, is being put to nasty work.

sure enough, a little spark! there, and a bigger zap! against your clit practically confirms your suspicions, as does the unearthly glow you catch in gojo's wide eyes, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards a precipice, panting open-mouthed against him.

"dirty girl, you don’t want to make a scene, do you?" he says this like he was not the one who pulled you into this booth, and palmed his way up your slip-dress. like he's not the one who tore into your lace panties, and shoved them into his pocket.

"it feels so good, satoru,” you babble, barely able to contain yourself, as he scissors his fingers wide, nudging your walls apart, "i can’t — "

"then don't," he interrupted, his voice low and commanding, "just let it happen. i want to hear you, i wanna hear her too, but only if you can keep it down."

you nodded, breathless, watching as waiters in impeccable black-and-white attire glide between the tables, carrying trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres and glasses of dom pérignon.

"good girl," he murmured, his fingers curling just right, pushing you closer to that exquisite precipice, "now, be quiet and enjoy the moment."

just as he pinches your clit, you feel everything around fall away in shattering starfall. bolts of lightning shoot and splash through your lungs, stilling your heart, leaving your cunt pulsing with a life of its own, fluttering against satoru's fingers which still haven't stopped.

it's only then you realise that the band has stopped playing, and the other patrons of the clubs are leaning out of their seats, slapping their hands together in fervount applause.

but you can only stare, dazed and boneless from the remnants of an excellent fucking orgasm, as gojo leans in, just over the shell of your ear.

"how about we go back to the hotel room? wanna see an encore?"

[watermelonlovershigh]

Day on the Yacht Turns Baby Making on the Yacht

AN: i've had this idea ever since these photos came out and knew i had to write it. and lots of you guys did too because you ate up this concept. so here yall go. hope you enjoy.

This story contains: mentions of sea sickness, trying for a baby, having sex on a yacht, slight choking (kinda), slight biting (during the sex)

{ husband!harry - softrry - current harry era }

word count: 1,962

When you're fertility tracker goes off on the yacht to let you know that now is a good time to try for a baby, you make the excuse you feel seasick and have Harry come to the bathroom with you where he fucks you good against the counter top.

You and Harry decided one way to celebrate Love On Tour ending was to rent a yacht for the day and take it on the water with a couple of his friends and family. The day you chose to sail on the waters was beautiful. The sky was nice and blue and the Italian heat was hot but not too hot. The sight of your gorgeous husband was also making the view ten times better, but that's just your opinion.

Everyone on the yacht was having a great time. Some were laying out to tan. Others were sitting around with wine coolers, chatting to one another. Harry, being the man who brought everyone together today, was going around and trying to spread his attention.

First having a laugh with his long time Italian friends who are actually a gay married couple which you both attended their wedding three years ago. Then sitting beside his sister Gemma and her long time boyfriend, Michal. Of course Harry pays attention to you as well, asking if you're alright and bringing you another drink when you mention being parched.

About two hours into your yacht ride your phone buzzes in your hands. You didn't really have cell service in the ocean so you thought that was weird. But when you checked to see who texted you, you realized it wasn't a text. It was a notification from your fertility tracking app that tells you when you're most fertile and need to try for a baby.

See, for a few months now you and Harry have been trying to get pregnant. You knew his tour was ending in July and thought it would be the perfect time for you to settle down for a while and have a baby.

At first you just had sex willy nilly to get pregnant, but after several negative pregnancy tests, decided to download an app to help tell you when you're most fertile. Though not every time you have sex is with the sole mission of a baby. Sometimes you just have sex for simply the intimacy aspect.

Fuck, you internally curse. How the hell are you gonna fuck your husband while you're on a yacht surrounded by his friends and family. Thinking for a minute you come up with a plan. You can fake being seasick so he has an excuse to go down to the bathrooms with you and do some quick baby making without anyone batting an eye.

Knowing it's now or never, you fake grown and cry out, "Harry..."

He looks over at you from where he's sitting beside his sister and asks, "Yeah, love? What's the matter?"

Not exactly wanting the whole boat to know you're seasick, you wave him over to you. Harry gets up imidiantly and stalks over towards where you're sat on the side edge of the yacht. When he's close enough, you whine, "Just feeling a bit seasick. Can you take me to the toilets on the bottom level, please?"

"Yeah, of course, baby." Harry is quick to agree. The genuine worry on his face makes you feel bad for lying. But you know you won't feel bad in a few minutes when his cock is deep inside of you.

He takes ahold of your hand and very quickly steps over to Gemma to inform someone, "Hey, Y/N is feelin' a bit ill. M'gonna take her to the toilets. Hopefully we won't be gone long."

Gemma frowns and replies sweetly, "Awe, that's fine. Hope you feel better soon, Y/N." You mouth a "thank you" and tug Harry's arm in the direction of the stairs that lead to the bottom floor of the yacht.

While on your journey to the bathroom, Harry kindly asks, "When did you start to feel sick? You could have told me sooner and I would have seen if I could've borrowed a motion sickness pill off someone for you." How did you get so lucky to have married such a pure and sweet man.

Before you answer, you barge in the one toilet bathroom and Harry is fully ready to hold your hair back while you vomit. But instead, is taken back when you turn around and kiss his lips hard with need. "Baby....... what, thought you were gonna be sick?" he mutters confusedly against your mouth.

You pull away, breathing heavy and respond, "I lied. I needed an excuse to have you come down here with me and fuck me. Got the notification on my fertility app saying my fertile window is open and now is the best time to try and conceive. I need you to fuck me and come inside me. Right now."

Harry tosses his head back and says, "Fuck!" rather loudly. Though he is a bit uneasy about potentially getting caught having sex on this yacht, he could never pass up the opportunity to fuck his sexy wife and give her a baby. "Well, okay then. Do you need, like, warming up first or..." He's fully ready to eat you out or finger you for a minute to get you fully aroused if you needed that.

Harry's too kind sometimes. Always thinking of your wellbeing and needs. You laugh and grab his hand to lower it to the front of your swimsuit. "No, babe. Seeing you in these tight, green swim trunks has had me wet for hours, see." His fingers come in contact with your clothed wet pussy and that has him hardening right up.

"Alright, turn around and lean over the sink f'me." Harry instructs and you do as told. This yacht's bathroom is rather small but you'll make it work. You've had sex in much smaller spaces before but those are stories for another time. Harry drops to his knees and as he goes to slide your bikini bottoms down your legs, he kisses over your ass cheeks and the back of your thighs.

"Harry, we don't have time for that, just put a baby in me. Hurry." you grumble. You're far too impatient for him to tease you right now. You just need him to fuck you.

As he stands back up and drops his green swim trunks to his ankles, Harry retorts, "Alright, stop being bratty. I'll give you what you want. Know I always do, m'love." He takes ahold of his now very hard cock and gives it a few strokes to make sure its fully erect for you. When it is, he helps spread your legs how he thinks would work best for this position and leans over your back, carefully nudging his dick in your soaked hole with the guidance of his right hand.

"Ohh, Harry!" you can't help but moan while he's pushing all the way in and that causes him to slap his left hand over your mouth to silence you.

"Love," he says from behind you're body, "gotta stay quiet. Can't risk anyone hearing us." You nod your head in understanding and bite your lip to silence yourself when you feel him bottom out. Then without warning, Harry pulls his hips back, leaving just the tip inside your cunt, before slamming forward.

The hand Harry had over your mouth has moved down to your neck. Not with the intentions to necessarily choke you, though he is applying slight pressure, but more so to help you stay upright and look at yourself in the mirror. The scene of Harry fucking you from behind has got you even more turned on than before. The way his tan skin is glistening with sweat. The way his curly hair has fallen over his forehead. The way Harry is looking right into your eyes from over your shoulders in the mirror. It's all so intense.

After a couple of minutes, Harry can feel the knot in his stomach tighten and he knows he's about to come. Your tight pussy just feels so good hugging his cock. Wanting to see if you were up there with him, he questions in heavy pants, "Are you close? M'bout to come. Just feels so - fuckin' - good, Y/N!"

You nod and squeak out, "Yeah, I'm close too, H." Knowing you may need a little bit of extra help, he takes his right hand that he had stationed on your hip for stability and reaches in front of you until he finds your clit. When he does, he begins rubbing the nerve in tight circles and that's exactly what pushes you over the edge. That and his cock rubbing against your g-spot from this angle. You nearly fall forward because as you come your legs give out and if Harry wasn't pressed up behind you, you're sure you would have collapsed onto the boats floor.

"Ah, God!!!" you gasp while waves of pleasure roll through your body. Your orgasm triggers Harry's and he shoots his load as deep as he can inside of you. His hips falter their movements and he has to bite down on your shoulder to quiet himself from the moans he's dying to let out.

Slowly, everything comes to a stop and you're both left sweaty and panting for air in this small yacht bathroom. Harry carefully removes his hand from your throat and you slowly start to lean forward over the counter top again. The movement causes you to accidently pulse around his softening cock and he curses in slight pain. "Fuckin' hell."

"Sorry, sorry." you repeat out of breath and Harry shushes you by gently responding, "It's alright. Gonna pull out now and then I'll help you up on the counter so my cum doesn't drip on the floor." You nod and Harry carefully pulls his dick out your pussy and turns you around to lift you up on the small countertop beside the sink.

Now face to face, Harry can't help but to lean forward and plant a kiss to your lips. The kiss stays soft and airy. But knowing people above is bound to become concerned with how long you've been down here, you whisper, "Love you. Thank you for coming down here with me and I hope we made a little baby. Can't wait for our family to grow."

Harry nearly cries and gets hard again at the same time with all this baby talk. "Y/N, no need to thank me. Love you so much and would do anything to give us a baby. Even if that means break away from my friends and family to fuck my wife in a yacht's bathroom in the Italian ocean."

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

Harry helped you get cleaned up and properly dressed again as well as redress himself. Then you both walk hand in hand back up to the top deck again where everyone looks at you with concern. Gemma's the first to come up to you and asks, "Feeling better, love? You can have a sickness pill if you need one? I always bring extra."

Feeling bad for everyone's genuine concern on your sea sickness but also happy you weren't actually sea sick, you decline, "Oh, no thank you. I'm feeling much better now. Your brother is a great doctor."

Everyone continues to have a great time. Laughing and enjoying the summer sun. Until Brad, Harry's friend and personal trainer comes up behind you and gasps, "Y/N, why is there a bite mark on your shoulder? Are you alright?" Your eyes go wide and Harry who heard the entire interaction goes pale in front of you. To the point he looks as though he may actually get sea sick.

"Um, um.." you stutter. Well fuck, how do you explain they're your husbands teeth marks from where he bit your shoulder to conceal his moans while coming inside of you to give you a baby.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[threepandas]

Bad End: Kept Safe

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

[lwwife]

Hi!!! Request for Leah (smut), something based on the first time Leah can use the strap properly again after her ACL and she goes to town on reader with it after not being able to do that for so long. They’re still completely switch tho, so some bottom!Leah too.

I've missed having you like this

Smut: Leah and Reader!Switch, strap on, fluff

Word count: 1,870

-

Leah’s pov:

Y/n and I’s sex life since doing my ACL has been uneventful, to say the least. Y/n has been able to go down on me, but I’ve still had to keep cautious of the way I move my legs. I haven’t been able to touch Y/n properly in a long time. We found a compromise for her to sit on my face, but it rarely happens. I’ve finally hit my 9-month mark since surgery and am back playing almost full games. I have an appointment later this afternoon with the surgeon which should be one of my last. Y/n is going to tag along as she has for all of them. She wants to make sure she knows how to look after me perfectly and I recover well.

-

“Okay Leah, your scans show an almost perfect recovery, you’ve done incredibly well in rehab and I’m going to clear you for a full 90 minutes.” I grin excitedly and Y/n squeezes my hand.

“Congratulations baby!” she turns to me, “I’m so proud of you.”, I look at her lovingly.

“Yes, you’ve done very well Leah you should be very proud of yourself.” The doctor smiles and nods.

“Excuse me, I just need to pop to the loo” Y/n stands up and kisses my head on the way out. Once the door closes, I turn back to the doctor nervously.

“Is something wrong Leah?”

“No sir it’s just I um I’m not really sure how to ask this” I look down.

“Leah I’ve heard some wild things in my years, please go ahead” He smiles softly.

“Okay well, I um I was just kind of wondering if um I would be able to you know” I raise my eyebrows and he laughs.

“Have sex?”

“Yeah, yes um that” He laughs again.

“Yes, you can, you’re practically cleared for any form of physical activity, except I wouldn’t recommend getting back to your gym time backflips just yet” he grins, and I have to laugh.

“Thank you, sir,”.

-

Y/n’s pov:

“Darling! Dinner’s nearly ready” I call out to Leah, who’s God knows where doing God knows what. I haven’t seen her since we came home from the doctor, she disappeared upstairs almost immediately. “Leah! babe! Come on I’m serving it up” I shout again.

“Coming bub!” she shouts from the stairs. I turn around to place the food on the table when Leah comes around the corner, hair freshly washed, skin looking clean, and I can smell her perfume from here.

“Nice scrub?” I laugh at her.

“Shush you” She comes over to me and kisses me on the cheek before sitting down. “This looks lovely baby thank you for cooking”.

“You mean like I do every night?” I raise a brow and Leah rolls her eyes and giggles.

“Mmmh” Leah almost moans, “This is delicious y/n” She runs her foot up my bare calf. I raise my eyebrows and almost choke on my wine. She just continues to eat, ignoring my hard stare.

As I’m washing up the dishes Leah comes up behind me wrapping her arms around my waist, slowly leaving kisses along my neck and up to my ear. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” I question her.

“Am I not allowed to touch my beautiful girlfriend?” She takes her hands off me and brings them to her chest, acting offended. I simply roll my eyes and giggle as she walks off to the couch.

I’m lying in Leah’s arms, in between her legs, back against her chest watching our current obsession, Game of Thrones, when Leah begins to run her hand up my thigh. I look up at her, but she continues to look forward, raising her hand higher and higher. “Leah” I whisper.

“What?” she smiles,

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, what are you doing?”, I cock an eyebrow at her childish response. “Ugh! You can’t take a hint can you?” She whines.

“What are you talking about baby?” I frown.

“I want to fuck you, babe! We haven’t had sex in ages, I’ve been trying to tease you all night! I just had the longest shower of my life, shaving every possible inch of me!”

“Leah, darling, I know I want to too, but you’re still recovering I don’t want to ruin your rehab baby.” I frown at her again, stroking my thumb over her cheek.

“The Doctor said it’s fine” she mumbles.

“What?”

“The Doctor! He said it was fine to have sex” She looks down, “I asked him” She keeps her head low but looks up at me with a pout and a small smile.

“You naughty girl” I whisper.

-

“Oh yes fuck! “, Leah moans and cums loudly as I suck hard on her clit. “Come here” she orders me, and kisses me hard, tongue diving straight into my mouth. “I want to make you feel good” she groans. “Stay here, I’ll be right back”. I smile, excited. Leah returns a minute later with our favourite strap attached to her.

“Oh shit” I mumble as I feel myself instantly drip.

“Turn around” She orders me, and I turn to get an all fours, just how I know she likes it. She moves me so I'm resting on my forearms instead of my hands, and my face is down into the pillow. She smacks my ass hard and I wince but moan at the feeling. “God I can’t wait to fuck you like this” she growls, spreading me open by the cheeks, moving forward a little more. She smacks my ass again and runs the strap over my clit and down, so it’s completely coated in my wetness. “Do you want me to fuck you baby?” she leans down to my ear, her front against my back.

“Yes please, I want you so bad baby please fuck me”, Leah smacks my ass one more time before she slowly thrusts the strap inside me. I moan loudly, instantly feeling the pleasure I’ve so badly craved. “Fuck! Yes, keep going” I pant, my entire body tingling. Leah's thrusts start to speed up and become more forceful.

“Yeah? You like that baby?” She growls into my ear.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck yes! Oh, you fuck me so good” I moan. Leah moves back so she’s no longer against my back and grabs at my hips roughly. She begins to slam into me, harder and harder. I moan so loud I begin to feel sorry for our neighbours. I scream and scream and scream while Leah continues to groan and tell me what a good girl I’m being. After one last hard thrust, I cum all over the strap and begin to drip down my thighs. I wince and groan at the feeling of Leah removing the strap from me.

“Shhhh it’s okay baby, I know” She hushes and turns me over so I’m on my back. She kisses my head softly and lays down next to me. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed that; I’ve been dying to fuck you like that for months.”

“Yeah, well you better not ever stop,” I whisper. “Take it off” I look down at the strap. Leah looks at me confused, as if she was waiting to go another round on me. “I’ll let you go again later you addict, let me have a turn”, I move closer to her and begin to undo the harness. I strip her of the strap and put it on myself. Leah lays, patiently, a small smile visible on her face, waiting for me to climb on top of her. I sit up and rest my back against the headboard. “Come sit” I demand. Leah almost jumps at the chance. Moving over she places herself onto my stomach, subtly grinding, her wetness coating my abdomen. I move my hands to run over her breast, we aren’t quite at eye level so she’s looking down at me, however, we both know I have all the power at this moment. I squeeze her breasts and she throws her head back. I pinch her nipples then move forward to kiss her chest. Her hands immediately find their way to my hair, pushing me in further. I lick and suck all over her chest, biting and pulling softly at her nipples. Leah’s grinding starts to get quicker, so I stop.

“Ride it,” I say simply. Leah doesn’t hesitate to move back, hovering herself over the strap, which is still wet from me. “Now sit,” I tell her. Leah slowly sits onto the strap, her mouth instantly opening, angelic noises escaping. Once she fills herself with the whole thing I grab onto her hips and begin to guide her up and down. As she moves faster her moans get louder, and her breasts jump in front of me. “Fuck you’re so good, taking it all for me” I growl at her.

“God, you feel so good, baby. Fuck!” She screams out and her motions quicken. She grabs onto my shoulder, scratching into my skin, “I’m going to cum, oh fuck!” She continues to scream, louder and louder until she finally collapses. Her body is exhausted and almost limp so I turn us over so she’s lying down, and I can pull out. She whines at the loss of contact and pants heavily. I remove the strap and quickly go to the bathroom, wash it and put it away. I return to Leah awaiting me, smiling. “I forgot how good it is when you fuck me” she grins.

“I won’t ever let you forget again” I whisper as we lean in for a sweet kiss. Hands wondering, eager for another round.

-

A/n: Hope this was okay and everyone enjoyed it! Feedback is welcome in my comments, messages, or asks! 😊

[gfdazai]

IT'S LOVE, IT'S ROMANCE.

* Being in a relationship w/ them.

* CW / Established relations, GN reader (I thinkies,) not proofread / edited, I'm making this up as I gooo! Sorry if this is OOC, it's been a wwhile since I've genshided?... Genshinend?.... Yknow. this isnt good im ngl. SO RUSHED this is . unbelievable. It's all over the place but

Ningguang, who showers you with anything that you look at when going window shopping. She doesn't even think twice about the price — despite your refusals, and complaints — she gets you to accept it eventually.

Ningguang, who lets you do her hair as a sign of love. She's a busy lady, it's basically a proclamation of love when she spares enough time for you to sit down, comb her hair and braid it, if you're lucky enough.

Ningguang, who hunts out almost every Qingxin when you say one is pretty. Ningguang, who pays for a crate of cecilias when you say you wished they grew in Liyue.

Beidou,, who brings you back stuff from each of her voyages! ! You say you'd like some fabric from Inazuma? Done. You want wine from Mondstadt? Done, even quicker!

Beidou, who collects shells for you from each shore she comes across. All her treasures (shells), are taking up at least 3 drawers. You don't have the heart to stop her, as she seems so happy when she brings you another pouch everytime she's home...

Beidou, who schedules a whole day for cuddling before she leaves. She refuses to take you with her — scared of you getting hurt, or something — so she spends as much time with you as she can. She forces you to clear your schedule to stay in bed with her all morning, not caring if you had a meeting with whoever, wherever.

Lisa,, who constantly uses you as a guinea pig for her potions. You wanna spend time with her? Okay, just drink this!! Of course, she'd never let anything harm you, she only gives you the potions with the silly side effects.

She'd constantly tease you, calling you petnames that not even the flirtest would think of, just for the amusement of seeing you flustered. If you tease her back, though? It's like a compitition of who get's more flustered first. It's gotten so bad, to the point of the library emptying out because of it.

Lisa, who doesn't even spare you from her punishments as a librarian! Oh, you forgot to give her the book last night? No, no, that simply won't do! She can't be stopping her job for her pretty thing, no, not even for you. ...At least she apologizes afterwards.

Furina,, who 'makes' (gets someone else to make) sweets for you. She somehow knows exactly what you want, and exactly when you want it.

She'd also let you sit in on tea parties, right next to her. She'd make you a little hat like her own, like her own little claim on you, making you sit there and look like her pretty little thing.

Furina, who gets flustered the moment you imply going anything romantic. Holding hands? Not that bad, it'll get her a little flustered. Kissing? She feels like she's having a heart attack after the first kiss the two of you share.

She'd get Neuvillette to get you plushies, preferring to stay with you as he goes to find whatever animal she requested this time. She'd get jealous if you picked a plushie to have in your arms instead of her, whining and wiggling around in the bed until you replace the plushie with her.

Please don't steal my work, nor feed it to any sort of AI. Thank you! ♡

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Three

Summary:

Astarion surprises you by inviting you to his place... for a real date? The evening doesn't go as expected when you uncover the darkness in his past.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 5.4k Tags/Warnings: mentions of Astarion's past, vampire bites, blood drinking, blow job, p in v sex, fluff with a very small side of angst, Shadowheart being a bit of a manic pixie dream best friend

Since y'all are insistent on encouraging my worst tendencies, here, have the longest single thing I've ever written. I think about Professor Astarion at all waking (and sleeping at this point) hours. I have other things planned, I will eventually write something else, I promise. But also... this one is now becoming a full-fledged multi-chapter fic. I'm half-considering rewriting the first few chapters so it's in third-person? I don't know though, let me know what you think.

H1ghVoltage and Zaria were both invaluable betas for this one, I appreciate you both so much. And Zaria for always providing the most perfect screenshots at the drop of a hat. This literally would not exist without you.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“Excuse me? The one you’re always going on about?” Shadowheart’s eyebrows disappear into her platinum bangs as she tucks her feet underneath her, holding up her wine glass so it doesn’t spill. The two of you met while moving into adjacent apartments a few years prior; it turned out you had both just been hired at the university, her at the Divinity School and you at the College of Arts and Sciences. Since then you’ve become fast friends, and you’re finally filling her in on all of the details of the whirlwind that has been the past few days. You hide your chagrin behind a sip of wine.

“Okay, listen, yes, but hear me out. He looks like this.” You hold out your phone and show her the English department faculty page.

“Oh. Oh,” she says in a low tone as her eyes study the screen. “Okay, you didn’t tell me that.” 

“I think I was in denial,” you whine as you drop your head onto the couch cushion. “I focused on how much of an asshole he is to distract me from how hot he is.”

“And now? Will you see him again?” She tosses your phone at your feet and you lift your gaze.

“I don’t know? He made a joke about having sex in my office but I don’t think he actually meant it.” You cast a sidelong glance at Shadowheart, trying to gauge her expression.

“Scandalous,” she smiles into the rim of her glass before taking a long sip. You pick up your phone, looking at his portrait. It looks like a candid photo but it’s very clearly composed. He’s sitting pitched forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He’s looking off to the side and his brow is furrowed like he’s engaged in vigorous academic debate. It’s wildly pretentious.

You drop your phone again and angrily sip at your wine, letting the dry red flood over your tongue and coat the inside of your mouth. You notice Shadowheart eyeing you suspiciously.

“Do you want to?” she asks, and you put your glass onto the coffee table and curl your knees into your chest further.

“I… I don’t know? Like obviously the sex is good. Really good,” you add under your breath, and Shadowheart looks at you salaciously as your cheeks flush. “But whenever he says more than five words I want to gouge my eyes out.”

“Is that really how you feel, or have you just convinced yourself to feel that way?” she carefully asks. You glare at her, but you can't bring yourself to disagree. You drop your less-than-menacing expression and cover your face in your hands. You let out an exasperated sigh before suddenly gasping and looking up at her with wide eyes.

“Nine hells, did I tell you what else happened? At least one student knows. I saw her coming out of his office and she made some comment about ‘We all see how you look at him.’” You flop onto your side, burying your face in the couch cushion once again.

“Well, I suppose that answers your question, at least,” Shadowheart says reassuringly, and you narrow your eyes at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean if you like him enough that your students are noticing, then you have to pursue him. The worst that’ll happen is you’ll break up and you can go back to hating him.” She’s awfully nonchalant about having just described a literal nightmare.

“Excuse me, how is that possibly meant to make me feel better?” you gape at her.

“At least you get a good shagging out of the deal, right?” she grins at you, and her teeth are tinged purple from the wine. You kick your foot out at her.

“Man, we need to get you laid, don’t we?” you tease and she groans.

“Listen, you just told me that you got railed twice in three days, it’s not that good out here for most of us.” Now it’s her turn to cover her face and you laugh. You pick up your wine and stretch your legs out to nudge Shadowheart’s calf.

“Who knows, maybe there’s some hot chick in the English department that he can hook you up with.” She pushes your leg back and rolls her eyes.

“Absolutely not, English academics are the worst.”

***

You have no idea what to expect when you inevitably run into Astarion the next day. You're tempted to just work from home since you don’t have any classes, but you have another damn season selection committee meeting that you can't miss, and you'd rather be around for students to drop in if they need to. 

You're on your way to the bathroom at the end of the day when you finally see him. You almost don't, at first, since you're looking down at your phone and you stop short of barrelling into him. You lock eyes and smile politely, then step to your left just as he steps to his right. You two share an awkward laugh just as it happens again in the opposite direction. After another few seconds of uncomfortable shuffling, he takes you by your shoulders and moves you to the side. You give him a thankful grin and quickly move past, trying to ignore the burning in your cheeks and the way your arms tingle where he touched you.

You get to the bathroom and close the door behind you, leaning against it to brace yourself. Your stomach is roiling, though whether it was from the embarrassment, the insatiable lust, or something else entirely, you can't quite tell. You turn on the faucet and splash your face with cool water. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, trying to will yourself into stoicism. It's a losing battle as the image of him having you bent over the sink pops into your mind. You shake your head, trying to think of something else, but that only makes it worse.

He’s pressed you up against the bathroom door and he's got your wrists pinned together above your head.

No, stop, you scold yourself. But the second you banish that image another one comes flooding in, your leg draped over his shoulder as he’s lightly sucking your clit with his fingers curled inside you.

You're dizzy with the mental image and you try to wrest it from your mind. You focus on the visual stimuli around you, the white tile, the fluorescent lights, the small blue stain beneath the soap dispenser. Eventually you find yourself back in your body and you massage your temples, trying to focus. 

Your head is still reeling slightly as you make your way back to your office. You unlock the door, completely unaware of his presence behind you until you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. You yelp and in an instant he’s towering over you with your back up against the wall. 

“Almighty gods, Astarion,” you swear breathlessly, your heart pounding more from the scare than the proximity for once. The proximity doesn’t help, however, when he tilts your chin with his knuckle and smiles devilishly. 

“Come to my place, let me cook you dinner,” he purrs, and your breath quickens. But when his words finally break through the seductive tone, something in your brain stops.

“Wait, cook? Can you- do you even- how-” You still haven’t fully recovered and your mouth struggles to form words. His smile widens and you know he’s enjoying watching you splutter.

“What, do you think in all of my 350 years I've never bedded a mortal? Besides,” he trails his hand down your neck and strokes it gently with his thumb, sending a shiver down your spine, “I have other ways of getting my fill.”

You instinctively tilt your head for him, almost like you’re inviting him to bite right here and now. You manage to recoup your senses just enough to quip, “I’m sure you have plenty of experience luring cute mortals back to your place.”

You think you see his jaw tighten for a fraction of a second, but it’s gone before you can be sure.

“I’ll take it as a yes, then?” He pulls away and adjusts his glasses, his fingers sliding into his hair. You nod, not trusting the words to come out of your mouth. He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket and tucks it into the neckline of your shirt, a move that would have been unbearably corny coming from anyone else.

“See you then… lover.” He winks and glides out of the room as silently as he came in. You take a breath to steady yourself, a voice in the back of your head grumbling because of how much he has you wrapped around his finger. But admittedly, he seemed equally flustered when you almost plowed into him a few minutes ago.

Maybe not the best choice of words.

You pull the piece of paper out to see an address, date, and time. Tomorrow at 7. 

Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.

Now you just need to occupy yourself for the next 26 hours and not completely lose your nerve.

***

Occupying yourself isn’t terribly difficult with Shadowheart around. She keeps you busy all day with various errands, shopping, anything to keep you from spiraling.

Nevertheless, when it’s finally time to get dressed, you find yourself overthinking every tiny element. You stand frozen in front of your open underwear drawer trying to decide between the black lace or the pink satin.

“Shadowheeeaaaarrrrrtttt,” you call out to her in the other room. She pops her head in and gives you a pitying smile as she sees your anxiety-ridden face.

“Alright, sit, let me help,” she clinks her glass down on your dresser and nudges you until you’re sitting on your bed, fidgeting with the belt of your robe. 

“Black lace, it’s sexier,” she says sagely, tossing the panties at you and you slide them on under your robe. She pulls the plaid skirt out of the shopping bag and flings it onto the bed. 

“Put that on because we both agreed it’s adorable. It might be warm enough to go without tights?” she muses, then glances at you mischievously. “And since he has a track record of destroying those, maybe go with these instead.” She throws a pair of thigh highs at you and they hit you in the face. You wrinkle your nose.

“Careful,” you warn, but she ignores you. She floats over to your closet and sifts through the hangers. She pulls out a top, shifts her gaze between you and the garment a few times, then drops it on the floor. After another moment of searching, she pulls out a blousy cardigan, throwing it on the bed next to you.

“Don’t put that on yet, I’ll be right back.” She disappears before you can say anything. You’re left sitting on your bed in just your bra and skirt, and you rub your feet together with a restless energy.

Shadowheart returns just a few minutes later holding a lacy top that reads more as lingerie than an actual shirt. She returns your skeptical frown with a giant grin.

“Shade, I'm not wearing that,” you gripe, and she throws it in your face.

“Put it on before you judge,” she chides in response, and you roll your eyes. 

“Fine, but it probably won't fit,” you say as you take off your bra and don the sheer v-neck cami. Other than straining around your chest slightly, the fit is fine. You put on the oversized cardigan over it and look at the full effect in your floor length mirror.

“See, told you,” she says smugly as you admire your reflection. And it's true, the underwear-as-outerwear really does bring the look from glorified schoolgirl cosplay into something a bit more refined. You give her a disgruntled sidelong glance but otherwise say nothing.

“Alright, get going. Go put your shoes on and chase that Ph D.” She pushes you out of your bedroom and towards the front door of your apartment. “Don't worry about me, I'll be here drinking your wine and masturbating all by myself while you get fucked through the end of the tenday.”

You slip on your black suede ankle boots and pleadingly look at Shadowheart one more time. You're still not convinced that this whole thing isn’t just a trip into the lion’s den.

“Go! I look forward to hearing all the gory details,” she says and plants a smooch on your cheek. She then smacks your ass as you head out the door, your yelp earning a satisfied smirk.

Sure enough, when you find yourself outside his apartment door, you can feel your cold feet catching up with you. You're about to take out your phone and text Shadowheart that you're going to leave when his door opens.

“Hello, beautiful,” he croons, and the syrup in his voice makes your mouth go dry. The sleeves of his white button down are rolled up and the first few buttons are undone, leaving his collarbone exposed. The black vest tapers in his waist and flows seamlessly into his well-tailored trousers. But the first thing you notice is his glasses.

“Your glasses are different,” you blurt, internally cursing your bluntness. His eyebrows pop up above the thicker plastic frames.

“Is that a problem?” he asks without a hint of malice in his voice. You blush and quickly shake your head.

“No I- I like them. They look good,” you stutter, looking away from the heat of his gaze. He smiles and takes your hand almost like he's leading you in a courtly dance, pulling you inside.

You look around his apartment, noticing the similarities to the hominess of his office. Big overfull bookshelves, warm-lit lamps dotted around the space, papers and other junk littered across every surface. It still surprises you that he doesn’t keep a tidy space, but at the same time you find it oddly charming.

You spot a hairless cat sitting on some mail on a table in the corner, delicately licking its paw. 

“Aww, who’s this?” You approach the cat, holding out your hand for it to sniff. It hisses in response and you take a step back.

“That's His Majesty, and you're best to respect his wishes,” Astarion calls from the kitchen.

“You named your cat His Majesty?” you ask, trying to suppress the laugh bubbling in your throat.

“No, he named himself His Majesty,” he replies, returning from the kitchen with a spoonful of risotto. “Taste,” he commands and you obediently open your mouth. The steaming food coats your tongue with a tangy, savory taste. You nod at him, barely trusting yourself to speak. It tastes incredible.

You turn back to His Majesty, and you notice an empty potion of animal speaking tipped on its side near him.

“Well I'll just admire such a handsome creature from a distance, then,” you say and His Majesty preens slightly. You can hear a hum of approval from Astarion as he retreats back into the kitchen.

This man is full of contradictions. Pristine, clean cut outward appearance with a cluttered, disorganized space. Cool and disaffected, but he loves his cat enough to use potions to communicate with him. He doesn't need to eat, but somehow he’s an incredible cook? You frown to yourself; it feels like something doesn't add up.

You start scanning one of the bookshelves, wondering what else you can learn about him. If there was an organizational system, it wasn't clear. 48 Laws of Power, History of Modern Sexuality, On the Genealogy of Morality, Gender Trouble… Ayn Rand sitting next to Octavia Butler?

What the fuck does he like?

“How is my collection of books holding up in your estimation?” Astarion’s sudden presence behind you makes you jump. He presses a wine glass into your hand and ghosts his lips across the crook of your neck, sending a swath of goosebumps down your arms.

“Did I tell you that you look absolutely delicious?” he murmurs into your skin, and you can already feel yourself getting lightheaded.

“You're one to talk,” you say on a dizzied exhale, and the breath from his laugh tickles your shoulder. He puts his hands on your waist, running a finger along the inside of the waistband of your skirt. He gives it a gentle tug and you unconsciously move in the direction he’s pulling.

“Come eat,” he says, guiding you to a table with one place setting. You sit, feeling awkward as he sits across from you, a wine glass in his hand.

“Are you just going to watch me eat?” you laugh nervously. He smiles into the glass, glancing at you above the rectangular frames sliding down his nose.

“Well if you're insistent, I can have my dinner as well.” He's not subtle about leering at your neck, sparking a flicker of heat in your belly. You distract yourself by taking another bite of the risotto, which somehow tastes even better than what he fed you before.

“So what do you experience when you have… food?” you ask, trying to shift his attention off you eating. He looks up as he thinks, and you find your gaze tracing his jawline.

“It’s… sour. Like it’s spoiled. But when something is cooked well, and with high quality ingredients, it’s more bearable.”

You look down at your food, the taste dancing across your palette. It's certainly better than something you could make for yourself. But you know so little about cooking techniques besides the basics that you don’t know what the difference would even be.

“And you're drinking wine. What does that taste like?” You try not to stare at the dark red liquid collecting on his lips, but it’s hard not to when his tongue darts out to lick it up.

“Alcohol has a higher threshold for quality, so it's generally more palatable. It usually means a higher budget for these things, but it's not as though I'm spending much on groceries.” He narrows his eyes at you, but you can't read his expression. 

“Well go on,” he continues, and you tilt your head in confusion. “Ask the question that you really want to ask.” Your heart starts beating a little faster and he smirks. Gods, you really hate that he can read you like that. It would be nice to keep at least one emotion private.

“What does blood taste like?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it's clear that he hears you. His smile widens just enough to show off his fangs.

“It depends on the person,” he replies just as casually as if you had asked him about his taste in music. “Some are sweeter, like a nice rich port, while others have a bit of a burn, like whiskey. However, you?” He places his glass on the table and stands, and you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. He crosses behind your chair and sweeps your hair to the side, lasciviously inhaling your scent behind your ear, eliciting a shiver.

“Yours is smooth with a hint of spice, like a fine aged brandy. But the finish has an addictive quality, like absinthe.” He nips lightly at the base of your neck without breaking skin.

“Such pretty words,” you exhale on a breathy moan, reaching a hand up behind you and running your fingers through his hair, pulling him toward you ever so slightly.

“Is that what you want?” he breathes into your ear, and you arch your back in your seat, panting. You can barely get out the “yes” before he sweeps you out of the chair and wraps your legs around his waist. He carries you into the kitchen, placing you on the counter and pressing your knees apart with his torso. You whine and the cool tile pressing into your ass reminds you of his touch. He slides one hand behind your head and the other around your waist, and sinks his teeth into your neck.

The initial pain surprises you every time, and your yelp is followed by his satisfied groan. You grip the back of his neck as he drinks, and you can feel the muscles working with each swallow. The feeling of your blood coursing through both of your bodies gets you high, knowing it's your blood that flushes his lips, cheeks, and ears. It's your blood flowing to his cock. The reminder of it makes you clench instinctively.

He pulls away just as you're teetering on the edge of passing out. He’s always panting after he feeds, his glasses slightly askew and a ravenous look in his eye that makes your mouth water. You pull him into a heated kiss, the metallic tang on his lips becoming a sensory reminder of the post-feeding bliss. 

You pull him closer with your feet, aching just to feel him pressed against you. Your hands scramble against his back, tugging at his collared shirt. He’s wearing far too many layers and he hasn’t even blessed you with the sight of his gorgeous sculpted chest yet. 

You slide a hand into the back of his collar, desperate for his skin, when your fingers brush over thick raised scar tissue. He pulls back faster than you do and your hands immediately go to cover your mouth.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t–” you begin but the pained look in his eye makes you stop short.

“No it's… it's fine. I've had those for a very long time. I… ah…” he stutters, adjusting his glasses uncomfortably, and you've never seen him so flummoxed.

“What are they from?” The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it. You're about to retract, tell him he doesn't need to answer, when he speaks quietly.

“They're from… the man who turned me. He kept me as a slave for 200 years. It’s something written in infernal, but I never found out what it said. And his death ensured I never would.” He speaks while looking down at the floor, his distant gaze indicating that he's somewhere else entirely.

“Astarion…” you breathe, and you cup his face in your hands. He smirks and snakes his arms around your waist; the mask is back on.

“Don’t worry about me, darling,” he says with a composed smile, “it was a very long time ago. I’m more concerned with tonight.” He moves to kiss your neck again but you put your hand against his chest to stop him.

“No- well, I mean yes to tonight, but… let me take care of you,” you say softly, and his careful expression slips again.

“I- well if that’s what you want.” He crinkles his brow, unsure of what to make of your proposal.

“Is it what you want?” You stroke his cheek, and it suddenly feels like this is an entirely different man standing in front of you. Hesitant, vulnerable, his usual swaggering confidence replaced with an uncertain tenderness that makes your heart pound in a way that feels wholly unfamiliar with him.

“I’m not sure,” he says, his voice dropping to just above a whisper.

“We don’t have to,” you offer quickly, “we can just fuck up against a wall or something.” The joke breaks the tension and he lets out a little giggle.

“What do you have in mind?” He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, and you ease off the counter and gently nudge him backwards toward his bedroom. He follows your lead, his doubtful look shifting into something of excitement and mischief. You guide him until the back of his knees hit the bed, and you push him to sit. 

You straddle his lap and run your fingers through his silvery curls. You kiss along his jawline and down his neck, placing a particularly tender kiss on his bite scar. He exhales heavily, sliding his hands up your thighs and resting them on your lower back.

You begin carefully unbuttoning his vest, followed by his shirt, untucking the hem from his pants. You slide it down his shoulders and onto the bed behind him, letting your warm hands run over the cool planes of his skin. His eyes follow your movements carefully and you take your time, tracing over every divet, every freckle and mole. You delight in his gasp when your fingers dance over his navel and down to his belt buckle.

You slip off his lap and drop between his legs, your hands continuing their journey along his hips. You plant increasingly hungry kisses above his waistband as you remove his belt and unzip his pants. He leans back on his hands as his breathing quickens, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

You’re struck with the irony that the last time you were between Astarion’s legs like this it was to get revenge, to make him feel flustered and speechless the way he always does to you. Now you have him, flustered and speechless, and all you want is to worship him, make him feel warm and safe.

You slide his pants down under his ass, pulling them all the way off so he’s sitting on his bed fully nude. You run your lips along his inner thigh as you palm his growing erection. 

“Ah- wait,” he stammers and you immediately look up and pull back.

“Yes?” you ask, frozen by the fear that you’ve gone too far.

“I want to see you,” he whispers, nudging your cardigan off your shoulder. “All of you.”

It’s hard to believe that someone sitting naked in front of you can make you feel so exposed. You shiver as you drop the cardigan off your back, the sudden exposure to cool air making your nipples poke through the lacy top that Shadowheart gave you. You stand and he watches intently as you unzip your skirt, letting it fall to the floor in a pool at your feet. His expression gives little away, but his cock doesn’t. By the time you’ve removed the black panties, thigh highs, and cami, it stands at full attention. His knees squeeze around your legs and his arms pull you in close to him, pressing his nose against your belly. You card your fingers through his hair and down to his chin, tilting his head upwards.

“Better?” you breathe, and he nods, his eyes round and wide. You bend down to kiss him, slow and languid, before dropping to your knees again. When you pull away his mouth stays open, suspended in the shape of your kiss.

You settle between his knees and lightly kiss the head of his dick. You flick your gaze upward, monitoring his expression as you lazily run your fingers along his shaft. His glasses balance on the tip of his nose as he looks down at you, transfixed by your ministrations. You open your lips slightly, not quite taking him into your mouth yet as you softly cup his balls in your hand. You can hear his breath growing ragged, and he rewards you with an almost inaudible moan when your tongue finally wets his cock.

You wrap your lips around his tip, gently working the underside with your tongue. You run your hands up his thighs, squeezing his hips as they buck into you. You take more of him in, the warmth of your mouth contrasting with the cool, sensitive skin. He groans and tangles his fingers in your hair, a gesture that feels closer to petting than pulling.

You pull your mouth off his cock, wrapping your hand around the now slick shaft. You run your thumb along the slit, and his responding shutter makes you smile.

“Ah- enjoying yourself?” he murmurs, unable to keep his voice steady. You look up at him and drag your tongue along his entire length.

“I am, are you?” you hum, taking him back into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the tip. His leg quivers beside you, his toes curling inward.

“Mmph,” he grunts in assent, his hand twisting into your hair a little more. You slip your hands under his thighs and slide your mouth further down, letting him fill you up. His hips jerk, wanting to thrust into you, and you relax your jaw to let him. His little pants and disjointed moans send a jolt of heat down to your core, and you can feel yourself becoming wet with desire for him. 

You reach down and slip your middle finger between your slick folds, your groan vibrating into him. He hisses and pulls you off his cock and into a fierce kiss. The two of you tumble backwards onto the bed, your hair encircling you like a curtain. You press your bodies together, the smoldering heat spreading into a raging wildfire. He lines himself up with your entrance as you continue your desperate assault on his lips. He slides in with ease and your cry into his mouth accompanies him bottoming out. 

You push yourself up, bracing yourself on his chest as you grind into him. He plants his hands on your hips, thrusting up into you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your hair cascading down the length of your back. You increase the pace of your rolling hips, each breath growing more voiced as you approach your peak. 

“Oh gods, Astarion,” you babble, his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer. He realizes you’re getting close, he sits up and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him tight. He latches onto your nipple, flicking his tongue and sucking to send your pleasure to staggering heights. You arch your back into him as your arms hook over his shoulders, brushing your hands against those awful scars. Your hands splay across his back as if to say no one will ever hurt you like that again. 

You pull his face to yours so that you can taste his lips as you crash over the edge. The kiss is broken up by your cries and you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, his grunts in time with his pulsing seed. You stay still and connected as the waves of pleasure ebb and flow and finally settle. The only noise left in the room is both of your heavy panting, and the telltale sound of just your heart pounding.

His hands slide down your back as you carefully pull yourself off him and you shiver as his now-soft cock falls out of you. You kneel next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, and he reaches over to stroke your jaw.

“Thank you,” he hums softly, and you press another sweet kiss to his neck. His scar.

After a moment you let out a contented sigh, then you say, “Well, I should probably gather my things and go, then.” You begin to stand to dress, but his hand closes around your wrist. You turn to him, unable to hide the surprise on your face.

“Or you could… stay. If you want.” He looks up at you through smudged and sweaty glasses and a smile tugs at your lips.

“What do you want?” you ask, and you watch him shift uncomfortably with a question that he’s not used to answering.

“I want…” he begins, hesitant. “I want to watch last year’s Globe production of Much Ado About Nothing with you. You said you like that one, right?” Your ears grow hot as you realize the extent to which he actually paid attention to you, even before you were sleeping together.

“I do, yeah. One of his best,” you say, your voice cracking slightly as you repeat his words back to him. That interaction feels like it was eons ago, when in fact it was less than a tenday. 

He smirks, some of his confident charm seeping back into his demeanor. He scoots back on the bed until he’s resting against the headboard, and then he reaches out to you, inviting you to curl in next to him. You oblige, and he turns on the TV across from the bed, pulling up the pro-shot. You sink in next to him, appreciating how his chest cools your flushed cheek.

A single word gnaws at the back of your mind and you banish it quickly. 

No, that’s the oxytocin talking.

It’s just been a long time since you’ve slept with someone more than once.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and the gnawing grows more insistent.

…

Fuck.

[wheels-of-despair]

The Freak and His Evil Woman Do Valentine's Day Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Last year's anti-Valentine's Day date was a success… but what if Eddie and Evil Woman tried normal romantic stuff in 1986? Contains: Cheap wine, lingerie, sex dice, typical E/EW humor and misbehavior, experimenting with all kinds of kinks and strange tasks, closest I've ever come to letting them have sex on-scr… on dash? Words: 2.9k

Minors and ageless blogs who interact with this fic will be blocked.

Valentine's Day at Hawkins High was always the same; it looked like Cupid's kid ate a pack of construction paper and threw up all over the place. A time for reds and pinks and hearts and roses and candy and cards. Typical. But this year, you didn't even care. You had Eddie, and he had you, and you two didn't need any of this commercial crap. You were above it. You were better than some bullshit corporate holiday.

At least, you thought you were... until you spotted that lacy red getup at the mall. It was really fucking pretty. Completely impractical for everyday wear. But it was pretty, and it was on sale, and it was going to blow Eddie Munson's twisted little mind.

So instead of refusing to acknowledge the occasion or having a rebellious Anti-Valentine's Day date like last year, even though that was awesome, you decided to go for it. Just to see what all the fuss was about. The Freak and his Evil Woman, celebrating Valentine's Day like normies. Who would've thought? You had dinner together at the table rather than the couch or Eddie's bed, you ate with utensils instead of your fingers, you even lit a candle... which smelled like vanilla, and made Eddie whine about wanting cake. And then, before you knew it... it was time to spice things up a little.

You take one last look at yourself in the Munson's bathroom mirror, sexily tousling your hair and adjusting your magnificent rack one more time. You give yourself a nod of approval before turning off the light and slowly turning the corner to Eddie's room.

He chokes on the bottle of cheap wine you'd been sharing when he sees you. You watch as he splutters from his place on the edge of his bed, holding up a finger to tell you that he'll be back to ogling in a second. You wait patiently while he recovers from his coughing fit, leaning on the doorframe and taking in the scene.

You'd told him that you were "going to slip into something a little more uncomfortable", and while you were gone, he'd stripped to the white boxers dotted with red hearts that you'd given him. (Shut up, they were on sale too.) He's even turned out the overhead light and draped colorful bandanas over all of the lamps in his room. Your boy knows how to keep things classy.

"Ho-ly fuck," he says when he recovers.

"Yeah?" you ask, suddenly feeling a little shy.

"C'mere," he breathes, holdings his arms out to you. You walk to him slowly, stopping just when you're in reach. His hands hover an inch away from your hips like he's afraid the red lace is going to burn him.

"You can touch," you whisper.

His fingers graze your hips, and he slowly trails down the front edges of the lacy fabric until he reaches your mound. He looks up at you, and you take his hands in yours.

"Not yet."

He sticks out his lip in a pout, but you bring his hands upward so that he can feel your bra. His hands roam over the thin fabric barely covering your breasts, and he sucks that pouty lip in and bites it. Half of you wants to say fuck it and peel it off and have your way with him right here and now, but… tonight's a special occasion. You need to torture him a little while longer. Even though his hands feel so nice…

He reaches for your hips and pulls you closer, so that you're standing between his legs, and presses his face into the valley between your breasts. You wrap your arms around him and hold him there for a moment, letting him nuzzle into your skin. He breathes in deeply and lets out a long and happy sigh as he melts into you. You'd hold him like this forever if you could.

You lean down to kiss the top of his head, and spot a small white box with a red bow on the bed next to him. You straighten and use his shoulders to push him back.

"What's that?" you ask, nodding toward the present.

"Nothing," Eddie mumbles, batting it aside without looking and trying to dive back into your chest. You chuckle and stop him with a hand on each shoulder.

He looks sleepy. Dazed. You glance down. Hard. Those boxers hide nothing. Your eyes flick from his obvious erection to his big brown eyes with a knowing smirk. You lean over, using your arms to subtly improve your cleavage situation… and pick up the box he'd flicked aside.

"This for me?" you ask.

"Yeah," he sighs, shifting on the bed so that he's straining at his new boxers a little less. "Thought it might be a fun way to get the night started. Then you went and ruined me."

"Awww," you laugh, dropping onto the bed beside him. "Do you wanna save this for tomorrow?"

He shakes his head. "Open it."

You lift the top from the little box to reveal a pair of dice…

"Sex dice, Eddie?" You laugh. "Really?"

"I thought it'd be fun," he shrugs. "Just toss 'em, we'll deal with 'em another night."

"Oh no, we're doing this," you say with determination, scooting back on the bed so you have room to roll.

Eddie sighs and moves further onto the bed to sit cross-legged across from you.

"Are there rules?" you ask, flipping the dice over in your hands to see what each side says.

"Just roll it and do it, I guess."

"So whatever I roll, I have to do to you?"

"I guess?"

"Do you want to go first?" you offer.

He shakes his head. "You go."

You drop the dice between you. KISS EAR. Easy. You get onto your knees and lean forward, moving Eddie's out of the way and planting a gentle kiss on his earlobe. You start to pull back, but Eddie stops you.

"Little more?" he asks. You oblige him, giving his lobe a nibble and leaving a few longer, lingering kisses on his ear and down his neck. When he's satisfied, you drop back into place.

"Next!" you announce, handing him the dice.

Eddie, an adorable little grin on his face as if he's imagining all the possibilities, drops them between you. MASSAGE ASS.

"Gimme," he orders, holding out his hand and flexing his fingers. You laugh and flop onto your stomach next to him. His hands begin to knead your cheeks beneath the red lace. It feels quite nice, so you decide to let him keep going until he's had his fill. He announces he's done with a smack, and you move back into place across from him.

Your next roll is KISS LIPS, which was simple enough. You know he'll object to a peck, so you start soft and slow and even give him a little tongue. When you pull away, he keeps his eyes closed and leans forward to chase your lips. You slap the dice into his hand, and he opens his eyes and drops them… to reveal SUCK BALLS. You cackle.

"I get a do-over," he says quickly.

"Where does it say anything about do-overs in the rule book?" you laugh. "Get to bendin', Munson."

"Shut up," he blushes. "We get to re-roll one of the dice if it's either impossible or too far. Deal?"

"Deal," you agree.

He picks up the one reading BALLS and drops it again. NIPPLE.

"Fuck yeah!"

You roll your eyes, and he reaches for you with grabby hands. You come closer, straddle his lap, and move aside the lace of one bra cup. Eddie wastes no time attaching himself to your nipple, wrapping his arms around your back to hold you close while he completes his task.

"Alright, my turn," you tell him when you start to suspect he's never going to let go. He moans into your skin and tightens his grip on you, refusing to detach. "Eddie!" you laugh, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving him a gentle tug. He comes away with a pop and licks his lips.

"I should probably do the other side," he says seriously, "you know, to even it out." You give him a playful shove that knocks him over, fix your bra, and sit back down to search for the dice that had gotten lost in the covers. You locate them, give them a toss, and are instructed to LICK PUSSY. Eddie rises with a wicked grin.

"Tragically, I am not that flexible, sooo…." you reach for the PUSSY die, drop it, and it becomes BALLS. You look at Eddie, who's elated.

"Orrrr…"

"Nope, one re-roll only, no exceptions."

"Ugh, fine, whip 'em out motherfucker."

Eddie gleefully reaches down and extracts the goods. You lean over and give them a nice swirl with your tongue, gently tuck them back into his boxers, then hand Eddie the dice.

SPANK BALLS.

"Nope," Eddie says, reaching for BALLS and dropping it again. It becomes DICK. You crack up.

"Nope," Eddie says, reaching for the die again. You smack his hand away.

"Nope, one re-roll only, no exceptions," you quote back to him.

"But…" he pouts, subtly covering his junk.

"No exceptions," you remind him. "I'm just following the rules. Are you gonna do it, or am I gonna do it?"

He whines.

"Move your hands."

He shakes his head.

"Do you wanna quit? 'Cause if we quit now, you have to declare me the winner. And I am going to be insufferable about it."

He whines again.

"Eddie. Do you trust me?"

He thinks about it for a minute, biting his lip and giving you his best puppy eyes. Eventually, he sighs in defeat and moves his hands aside. You scoot forward, gently sliding one hand into the leg of his boxers and cupping his cock from the underside. You raise your other hand slowly, watching his eyes become more fearful as you get higher and higher. He scrunches his eyes shut when your hand rises above his head. He holds his breath and visibly braces himself.

You bring your hand down quickly, letting him feel the wind on his pained face. But your hand slows as you come downward, and you give his cock a light clap. He flinches anyway, even though you barely touched him. You extract your hand from his boxers with a laugh. He rubs himself, although you're fairly certain you didn't cause him any actual pain.

"You okay?" you ask.

"Roll the damn dice," he grumbles, fighting a smile.

You roll BITE NIPPLE. Eddie bites his lip. You crawl to him and push him onto his back. You straddle him and lean down to take his nipple in your mouth. Could you have just bitten him and been done with it? Yes. Did you give his nipple a nice wet suck and blow on it to make it harden before you took it between your teeth, rolling it and tugging gently? Yes. He whimpers and bucks his hips beneath you. You let go and lean over to give his other nipple a kiss before returning to your seat. Eddie rises with a flushed face.

Eddie rolls KISS BALLS. You snort, and he re-rolls BALLS, leaving him with KISS ASS. You laugh, ready to tease him, but before you can get a word out, he's flipped you over onto your stomach and planted a kiss on your right ass cheek. He gives your left a smack and searches for the dice while you try to get your cackling under control and sit back up. He drops the dice into your hand with a grin.

You roll SPANK ASS, and without hesitation, Eddie throws himself across your lap. You smile at his eagerness and place a hand on his lower back, giving his boxer-clad cheeks a rub with the other. He crosses his arms and rests his head on them. When he's settled, you give him a smack. Not a hard one, but it has him flexing his cheeks. Your hand comes down twice more before you realize he's grinding into your thigh with each smack. You increase your force, and he's so close to his release when you reach ten, you almost have to peel him off of you.

"You okay?" you ask, as he sits there with his eyes closed, breathing heavily.

"Yeah, gimme a minute," he grunts, trying to collect himself. When he opens his eyes again, the corner of his mouth twitches, and he reaches for the dice.

He rolls a BITE NECK, making you both smile.

"Alright, vampire boy, have at it," you tease, leaning your head to the side and exposing your neck.

He starts with a slow and sensual kiss, and you close your eyes and enjoy it. By the time he finally bites you, you've forgotten what he rolled, and it comes as a surprise. You yelp, and he comes away with a devilish grin.

You roll MASSAGE BALLS. You move closer to him and reach down to cup him through his boxers. His breath hitches, but he doesn't look away. You stare into his big, beautiful eyes and work his balls gently until his eyes flutter shut. You remove your hand and, even though the dice didn't tell you to, give him a deep kiss. You rest your forehead against his for a second when it ends, both needing to catch your breath before the next roll.

You hand him the dice, and he rolls SPANK PUSSY. He reaches out for a re-roll, but hesitates. He looks up at you curiously, head tilting just a little bit, wondering if you'd do it. You answer him by spreading your legs, and briefly wonder if he's going to pass out. His eyes dart between your open legs and your face. Are you sure, he asks with a look. You lean back on your elbows and put a foot on each of his thighs. He licks his lips and zeroes in on the red fabric in front of him.

Eddie starts at the waistband and drifts a finger down across the lace. He traces your slit and glances up at you hesitantly. When you don't stop him, he slips a finger beneath the fabric. Neither of you had realized just how wet you'd gotten during this game until now. Eddie glides his finger through your slick, and you bite your lip to keep from making noise. Eddie circles your clit, and you let out a shuddering breath and clench your fists. He pulls away. You whine.

And then he raises his hand, and you remember why you're in this position. You adjust your hips, and Eddie's hand claps down, his fingertips landing right where you need him most. You gasp.

"Are you okay?" he asks quickly. You nod and spread wider.

"Again," you breathe. Eddie's eyes flick between your mound and your eyes, just to make sure you meant it, and then he raises his hand and smacks you again. You close your eyes and lean your head back. He hits again, and you grasp the sheets on either side of you.

"Fuck, are we done playing?"

"Uh-huh," you mumble hurriedly. Eddie reaches for the waistband of those red lacy panties you bought just for him, and you open your eyes and lift your ass to help him get them off. He tosses them aside and dives face-first into your heat, lapping your juices with his tongue. You moan, and he responds by slipping two fingers inside of you. You can't take much more of this. "Eddie," you breathe, "I'm gonna--"

His fingers and tongue begin to move at lightning-speed, and it sends you over the edge, seeing spots and gasping and eventually collapsing into a useless puddle.

When you regain enough strength to lift your head, you see Eddie's face resting on your thigh, lightly stroking the skin of the opposite one. You reach down and run a hand through his hair, and he hums contentedly.

"You wanna swap places so I can take care of you?" you ask quietly, massaging his scalp.

"Too late," he mumbles sleepily.

"Really?" you chuckle.

"Mhm," he hums, nuzzling his cheek into your thigh.

"Do you want me to spank your ear and get you ready for round two?"

He turns his head and sinks his teeth into the meat of your thigh. You yelp, and he begins crawling slowly up your body with a predatory grin. When he reaches your face, it becomes a sweet smile, and he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day," you echo.

Your mouths meet in a sweet kiss that quickly intensifies. Your hand drifts down his chest and through his happy trail and over the wet patch on his boxers. You give him a lazy stroke through the fabric, and he moans into your mouth before moving his lips to your neck. He rocks his hardness into your hand, and you give him a squeeze.

"Careful," he grunts. "Wanna have actual sex at least once tonight."

You laugh and circle your legs around him to pull him closer.

"Better hurry up, then."

[shinestarhwaa]

HEAT || JEON SOYEON

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Soyeon x Fem reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, FXF, unprotected sex, fingering, face-sitting, cunnilingus, pegging, dom soyeon / sub reader (but theyre kinda switch), dirty talk

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno

ENJOY!

You felt absolutely drained when she got home from work. It had been a long and stressful day and all you wanted was to lay in bed and relax. You took off your long, black coat and flats and poured herself a glass of white wine in the kitchen, which you downed in just a minute. The burn of the alcohol made you feel warm inside.

Today had been so incredibly hectic at work and you really needed some time at home, with your girlfriend. You made her way upstairs and walked into your shared bedroom with Soyeon, who was fast asleep. You smiled softly at the sight of your beautiful girl sleeping like a princess.

You took all your clothes off quietly, not wanting to disturb Soyeon. Laying in bed, you snuggled up to her and kissed the birthmark on her exposed shoulder softly. Her soft honey skin felt like satin against your plush, pink lips.

"Hm," she whined a little, shivering a bit from the feeling of your cold skin on her own. "Sorry baby, did I wake you?" you whispered, kissing along her jaw.

"That's okay, I tried waiting for you but I fell asleep," she sighed softly while she turned to face you. Slowly, you put your lips on your girlfriend's and pulled her closer. She deepened the kiss and stroked your back softly with her long nails.

As the kiss got more heated, your tongue slid across Soyeon's bottom lip. She softly traced her fingers from your back to your ass, squeezing it lightly, earning a soft whisper from you.

She was the first to break the kiss, panting softly. "I've been craving you so much...," she whispers as she kisses along your bare collarbones. Her touch left you breathless and yearning for more.

You were quick to discard the sports bra she wore and kissed down her chest and soft breasts as she slid down her own panties. You pushed down her pajama shorts and panties as well in one go, now leaving the two of you naked together.

You shook off the covers to reveal your naked bodies. You spread your girlfriend's legs and pressed kisses over her soaked core. "Already wet for me?" you smirked smugly. Soyeon nodded, "I have been fantasizing about you all day, baby."

You licked a stripe up from her hole to her clit, closing her lips around the bud, sucking on it lightly. Soyeon moaned out, cupping her own breast and rubbing her taut nipple with one hand and running through your hair with the other.

You quickly pumped 2 fingers in and out of her cunt as you licked her clit, causing moans to spill from Soyeon's lips. "Baby, oh god, that feels so good," she moaned, squirming at the sensational feeling of you working on her wet cunt. She felt herself getting close quickly, moaning out your name loudly. "I-I'm gonna cum!" she cried as she felt her body tensing up.

You fucked your fingers into Soyeon harder and lapped at her clit eagerly. Soyeon came undone, moaning your name loudly while feeling her body shake.

You smirked and lapped up the arousal dripping from her pussy. "So tasty," you winked. She pulled you close and panted softly. "I want you to sit on my face, please," she grunted, ''Wanna be suffocated by that pretty pussy of yours.'' "Whatever my girl wants, what she gets."

You lifted yourself up and felt Soyeon sliding underneath you, bringing you down and aligning her tongue with your dripping wet core. "Please, God," you whined when she licked your hole teasingly. You felt Soyeon's nails claw at the soft flesh of your thighs as she tested the waters.

She then dove her tongue into your core, licking your insides and pumping your tongue in and out of your cunt, her nose brushing against your clit. You moaned loudly and held tight onto the headboard of the bed You found yourself squirming while Soyeon held your hips tight, lapping her tongue at your wet pussy.

"P-Please I need you, please fuck me!" you whined as she then worked on your sensitive clit. Soyeon didn't stop and kept on eating your pussy as if her life depended on it. You only found yourself gasping for air, unable to stop moaning out loud.

"B-Baby ah! O-oh I'm gonna cum!" You moaned out when she heavily sucked on your sensitive clit. You screamed her name and came down your girlfriend's face, coating her lips with your juices.

"F-fuck," you gasped, coming down from your high. Soyeon laid you down and put on her strap-on in just a matter of seconds. You turned around and pushed your ass up, resting on your elbows, waiting for Soyeon to fuck your pussy.

She entered your cunt slowly and pushed in deep, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan, still feeling sensitive from your previous orgasm. Soyeon on the other hand had no mercy with your fucked out cunt, pounding her fake big and long cock down your hole while smacking your ass hard a few times. "Fuck! Yes, fuck me harder!" you whined out. "Good girl, such a good slut for my cock hm?" she smirked

You loved acting like a slut for your girlfriend, and it happened a lot of times. There almost wasn't a day where you didn't beg for her girlfriend to use her like a doll, but Soyeon loved it just as much. But as you felt a lot of stress these days she knew you felt more submissive. Soyeon didn't mind at all, she totally got off on you whining for her cock like a little bitch.

"Y-Yes, I'm such a fucking slut for you, please!" you screamed.

Soyeon pounded into you harder and smacked your ass again hard. "Good slut," she grunted and panted. Soyeon loved feeling powerful, mercilessly fucking you, the wrecked girl underneath her.

"I-I'm gonna cum again, please make me cum!" "Yes baby, I'll make you cum, you've been such a good girl for me," she smirked. You felt your walls twitch around the big dildo almost splitting your cunt open, but you took it like the good girl you are, coming undone on it in no time.

Soyeon rode out your high again and made her turn around. " Suck your juices, baby, come on," your girlfriend panted as she rubbed the dildo along your parted lips. You took the dildo into your mouth like a good girl, lapping the slick juices from it and looking Soyeon in the eye. "Good girl," she smirked and took off the strap-on.

She laid down next to you, pulling her in close. "You've been so good for me," she smiled. you nodded, being absolutely fucked out, pressing her face into Soyeon's chest. She rocked her softly as she felt you falling asleep and kissed your head. "Sleep well, my love," she smiled, "I love you.''

[readychilledwine]

Charms and Spells

SJM Villains Week - Day 3 - Secret Skills

Summary - You were far too happy to be Amarantha's test subject. Perhaps you should have thought differently when you saw the brand new spellbook

Warnings - Dubcon, sex pollen with a twist, manipulation, degradation, fxf, oral (reader receiving), pet play, mind control

A/n - Listen, we're running a little behind here for @sjmvillainweek, but I've been so busy loving everything you all are posting! I'm playing a catch-up game here with editing, so there may be errors I missed. I firmly believe Amarantha was a witch. We hear a lot in the ACOTAR world that witches steal power and use things that are not theirs to have access to. That fits perfectly what we know about Amarantha, and if SJM was ever bold enough to give us a prequel, I'd do many things to have Amarantha more fleshed out.

Oh, and a PS, you'll see this reader character again later with some other Amarantha smut that I'll be posting 👀

🗡Villains Week Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

Amarantha watched as you sat, blinking at her after she had you drink the potion from her newest spellbook. Her nails were a soft thrum beating against the wood as you shivered from the oncoming waves of warmth spreading through you. “Is it working,” she sighed, slightly annoyed. “Are you feeling.. different?”

You couldn't bring yourself to answer her, body beginning to ache as you attempted to focus on anything, “What- what was that?”

“Oh, so you now you have enough brain power to ask?” Amarantha tisked you as she moved, your eyes suddenly drawn to the sway of her hips, far more than usual. “That, pet, was a potion meant to make the person who consumes it cave to their more primal needs.”

“It's sex magic,” you clarified quickly. “I can read between lines.”

Amarantha glared at your blunt response, “Is it working then?”

“Does it look like it is,” your tone was becoming more clipped, dangerous to use with her regardless of the two of you being friends.

You two had known each other and stood by each other's side for years. You had always blindly followed, believing in Amarantha and her goals for your homelands. Your faith in her was unmatched. Your loyalty undying. You would follow her to the grave, your Fates intertwined in a way that you both didn't want to acknowledge.

And, perhaps, you gave blind faith too easily as heat turned to pain, a whimper tearing through your throat. “I can help you,” she moved to you with a grace that made your skin crawl. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“I'm so mad at you,” you grit the sentence out. “You should have-”

“You could have asked,” she cut you off in a bored tone. “You could have looked at the book.”

“I trusted you.”

“That is your mistake, not mine. You know I thrive in magic and potions.”

The tense between you two grew, rising to a fever pitch before she sighed. Amarantha moved closer again, her hands sliding under the shirt you were wearing, “I can help,” the shirt came off without you responding. “Don't you want to feel better?”

It was a haze of motions from there, soft kisses with a lingering taste of wine, nails scratching down your chest, your skirt sliding down your thighs. She had played you for a fool, yet here you were, caving to her desires as she secretly got what she'd wanted. Her hands Were soft as she finally got to memorize every dip and curve, deciding she owned every inch of you that she touched.

She memorized every shiver, every time you let out a soft gasp or whine as she began kissing her way down, tasting the unique salt of your skin. When she final reached her destination, she only chuckled. “You are just a desperate thing. Whiny and needy.” You blushed at comment, opening your mouth to defend yourself. “Pathetic,” she whispered. “You are just absolutely pathetic. Doing whatever you can to earn my love and affection. Is that all you are, y/n? A tool for my pleasure and entertainment?”

It should have stung to hear those words, to hear what she truly thought of your years of loyalty to her. Yet all it did was settle arousal further into your body.

It was new, exciting. Being mocked by her was having an affect on your body neither of you could have predicted. Amarantha seemed to notice, her tone becoming more cruel as she continued to degrade you and kiss your thighs.

“Now spread your legs and behave, whore,” she kissed along your heat as she commanded you. “I earned this treat and you're going to hand it to me.”

She wasted no time, burying her face into you, tasting what she had decided was gold between your thighs. Every lick was planned, rhythmic, never allowing you a moment of peace to breathe. A hand reached up to caress your breast, pinching your nipple as she flicked your aching clit.

Her potion had you reeling from every touch, every soft vibration her moaning made against you. You could have died right here, right now, and you would have died happy.

She showed no signs of letting up on you as she pushed her tongue into you, pads of her fingers taking over the swollen bundle of nerves where her tongue had been. “Already,” she clicked her tongue with a smirk as your legs began to shake, “how disappointing.”

Perhaps it was her tone. Perhaps it was the potion. Perhaps it was everything, but you fell apart then and there as her motions began again, an even deeper haze seeming to lock in as you tangled your hand into her soft red hair. She worked you through the high, smirking against you as she knew what was to come.

You had been mindless for her before this. So eager to please and do what you could to make her happy.

Now you'd have no choice. Not with the permanent effects this potion had.

You shouldn't have trusted her and Amarantha knew that deep down as she put a collar and leash on you, making you sit as she read through her new spellbook.

“Ah, there it is! See, pet? A way to steal powers,” she dog eared the page before grabbing your chin. “You belong like this and I am going to ruin you.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[marysdonuts]

I've been thinking for some days about nerd hoshi who is always at the library studying and t/n who relieves his stress in the public bathrooms of the library.

old fashioned nerd!hoshi x bold!reader

What exactly happened to men along these years? Didn't they use to go to war, discover new lands, conquer continents? They built awe-inspiring structures, sculpted impossible shapes into slaps of marble, wrote letters that to this day make people's hearts ache. All this for what? To throw it away the moment women didn't need to be courted anymore.

Kwon Soonyoung was sitting in less than occupied library, surrounded by books, studious as ever. Working on his history project he suddenly wondered what brought mankind to it's current self destructive pattern. Was it the greed? The pride? Laziness perhaps. We became too comfortable to fight for what we love.

Browsing yellowish pages of thick textbook in front of him, couldn't help but shake head in disgust. Chivalry was not dead. He was committed to bring upon its renaissance.

So when you, not so subtly, slipped a note "meet me in the bathroom"... Swallowing hard, it provoked moral conflict between righteousness and basic instinct.

Hoshi's been sitting in that spot for hours, one eye on you, one on the scripts. Gentleman side of him planned to invite you for dinner long time ago, wine and dine you, sweep you off your feet, dance in the rain.. All romantic clichés he loved so dearly. However the coward side didn't allow him to make even tiny move on person so beautiful and pure like you.

Now, you can imagine just how dumbfounded your bold initiative left him. Heart sprinting 350 beats per minute, forehead covered with dew but most importantly - blistering sensation rising from below abdomen.

Feet shuffling faster than high principles. Before he knew it, Soonyoung was pulling you closer in restroom stall. Confined space making both hearts race. Hot lips exchanging secrets of feelings unsaid. He was melting under your touch as much as did you.

"W-wait a second! Why are we doing this? Not that I mind or anything.. You are just so beautiful, is it really okay?" Hoshi's rational mind finally catching up

"Well, saw you fighting your inner demons over there for about.. three hours? Though you might appreciate little boost of morale." mischievous look in your eyes, hands caressing each chubby cheek, squishing them together

Embarrassed by how easily you managed to read him, Soonyoung tried to cover his burning red face. To no avail.

"Ugh, I had lot on my mind...but by the look of it, I will have to fight the outer demons now" Doing his best not to meet your thrilled gaze, pointing at the growing situation in his pants

"Easy fix" the self assured tone of your voice, hands already working on his cock. You loved to please but what you loved more was making cute, nerdy boys whine. Pressing against him, hot lips silencing defenceless cries, those adorable whimpers only fuelling your determination, grip getting tighter.. Seeing him so vulnerable, completely at your mercy would be enough to take you over the edge.

Hoshi found himself in situation from his wildest dreams. Public setting, rhythmic touch working its magic, your tongue torturing his.. Seeing you so hot and bothered, getting off at the sight of him, absolutely refusing to yield until he was taken care of... It was too much for baby hamster. Getting caught up in the mood, leaving all his morals behind, he fully gave himself to the sensation.

Vision fading to black Soonyoung experienced his first out of body experience.

//

"Next time allow me to take you out for dinner?" Utterly ashamed by his inappropriate actions Soonyoung finally gathered up the courage to ask you out.

"I would like that"

[moonlight-prose]

LOVE'S TRAIN

a/n: i couldn't stop thinking about steven and spending valentine's day with him. that man would spoil you until the clock struck midnight. so here's my small little drabble with him. it's really just a self indulgent piece, because i've been feeling down.

summary: a box of chocolates, a bottle of wine, and the floor.

word count: 1.7k+

pairing: steven grant x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mention of alcohol consumption, food consumption, messy kissing, chocolate getting where it shouldn't, p in v sex, spit.

You were never one for Valentine’s Day. Never invested in the idea of a day full of romance, but then Steven walked into your life. Well actually…he stumbled. He opened the door to romance, an unconditional love that made your head spin, and you found yourself enamored with the idea of just you and him. Wrapped up in a world of your own making.

He’d taken you to dinner at a small fancy place that required him to wear a tie. One you currently had wrapped around your hand to keep him close. His lips smeared the red lipstick you carefully applied, the color now staining his bottom lip. The plushness of it now swollen from where you sucked it into your mouth. 

If the day ended like this, in his lap on the floor of his flat, a box of chocolates and a bottle of wine beside you, then yeah…you didn’t mind Valentine’s Day one bit.

“Steven,” you sighed into his mouth, your hips rolling over his.

Somewhere between your second glass of wine and two pieces of chocolate, you crawled into his lap. The skirt of your dress being pulled up around your hips as he clambered to feel some part of your bare skin. He moaned as his finger trailed along the red lace you wore, his eyes growing darker at the sight of your lust addled smile. The set wasn’t unusual—especially on this day—but you enjoyed watching his mind go blank. The shy Steven you adored, now opening up to reveal the part of himself that could make you scream.

“Shall we move to the bed?” he asked, his lips trailing down to your chest.

You shook your head. “Too far.”

The rumble of his laugh vibrated through his chest, sending your heart into a flutter. “Alright love.”

You could hear the soft music he picked playing in the background, the sultry jazz sending a heady wash of pleasure through your body. Turning your mind hazy. Steven’s hand rummaged in the box, pulling out another chocolate and placing it at your lips. He’d been slowly feeding them to you all night, licking your lips clean when you finally swallowed. Too focused on the sparks trailing up your spine, you let the piece of candy melt along the seam of your mouth.

“You’re making a mess, love,” he murmured.

Your lips twisted up into a smile, hand curling into his hair to bring his lips back to yours. “Clean me up then.”

He groaned, hips bucking into yours. The piece of chocolate slipped from his fingers, falling to your chest before he managed to catch it, slipping it into his mouth and licking his thumb clean. The breath caught in your throat, eyes following the trail of spit that spread along his bottom lip. Breathing his name again, you brought his lips back to yours, moaning at the taste of the chocolate on his tongue. Sweet with a mixture of the wine from earlier.

“Want you.” Gasping, you began to fumble with his belt buckle. Only for your head to fall back, a whine echoing in the flat as his tongue began to lick up the remnants of chocolate still on your chest.

“You taste good.” His words were slurred, mind whiting out as your hand dipped into his pants.

Your laugh brought him back though. “I think you’re tasting the chocolate.”

“No it’s you,” he said, head tilting back to meet your eyes. “The chocolate tastes better off you anyways.”

He caught it the second he said it. The stutter in your chest, how your body had a visceral reaction to the notion that he’d rather eat his precious chocolate off your body. Licking your lips, you tried not to beg him to do just that. But Steven had always been able to attune to your needs long before you knew what they were. It’s what made you love him even more, how he was adamant on making you feel wanted, special.

The piece of candy was pressed to your throat, the sticky sweetness instantly melting against your heated skin. Steven watched as he dragged it down to your chest, smearing it along the tops of your breasts. If you couldn’t feel how hard he was before, you certainly felt it now. Just the thought of him slowly letting his inhibitions go the longer you were in this position, made your body heat up even more.

Slowly, so as not to disturb his movements, you lifted yourself, pulling your underwear to the side as you finally managed to push his pants down a bit. You were practically dripping, the fabric clinging to you uncomfortably. A broken moan tore from his throat, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your hand wrapping around his cock.

“Love,” he gasped, his teeth scraping along your jaw. “Can I—fuck—Can I please—inside—”

“Yes,” you panted, already lining him with your entrance. “I need to feel you.”

The control that you had been gripping tightly, slipped from your grasp as you sank down onto him. Your walls fluttered, a fresh wave of slick practically soaking him, and he whined against your throat—his tongue lapping at the chocolate. Steven would never understand how much you ached for him. How you would keep him inside of you for hours if you could. The delicious stretch of his cock sliding into you fully made your head rush, a wet moan falling from your lips.

“So fucking perfect,” he mumbled, his tongue tracing where he had spread the chocolate, sucking your skin into his mouth.

“Steven,” you moaned, clutching onto his shoulder when his hips bucked up into yours, sending him even deeper.

“Taste so good.” He was past the point of making sense, his eyes now shut from the pleasure that rocketed up his spine.

Digging his fingers into your hips, he tried to stave off the impending orgasm that built the longer he was inside you. The tight heat of your cunt wrapped around him nearly drove him insane. That mixed with the taste of chocolate off your skin, your perfume filling his nose, consumed him. Steven was wrapped in you and he relished in it.

You lifted yourself off him, hands gripping onto his shoulders for balance, before dropping yourself into his lap. The noise he made sent heat spiraling through you, a breathy keen of his name ripping from you. Grinding your hips steadily, you tried to keep a pace that didn’t tire you out, but Steven’s teeth sinking into your skin made you shake. Gasping into his neck, you felt his cock drag along your walls; the delicious burning pleasure now making its way through your entire body.

“I won’t last.” His eyes fluttered open, the black of his pupil practically overtaking the brown of his iris. “Need you to—oh shit love—to cum.”

Nodding, you began to fuck yourself on his cock, bouncing in his lap to find the angle that would finish you off. Except Steven had other ideas. He yanked at the top of your dress, pulling it down to your waist and wrapping his lips around your peaked nipple. Your cry echoed off the walls, hands gripping onto his hair as you tried to keep going.

He gripped at your waist, moving you with an ease that normally would have stunned you if you didn’t know the extent of his strength. Except Steven was lost in the mind numbing pleasure that steadily built in his body. Licking up your chest, he thrust up into you, his cock striking against something that had you all but screaming.

“Feels so good baby.” You pressed your lips to his, your breath being punched out of your chest with each of his stunted thrusts. “I’m gonna—” You were cut off by his thumb finding your clit, pressing quick circles against it that caused your legs to tremble.

“Yeah?” he breathed, pulling you down onto his cock. “C’mon love. Cum for me please.”

Your body went taut, eyes rolling back as he buried himself entirely in you, moaning brokenly against your throat as he came. You heard him cry your name, but the white hot bliss you’d been aching for caused you to lose all sense. The loud beat of your heart overtook your hearing, white flashing behind your eyes as your walls clamped down around his cock. A keening wail bouncing off the walls.

He held you tightly to his body, panting against your skin to bring himself back. Either way you didn’t mind. You practically melted into his hold, burying your face into the crook of his neck, his hands running steadily up and down your back. It soothed you. His scent, his heartbeat.

“You alright love?” His words made you smile, the warmth seeping into your heart the longer his hands stroked your skin. As if to remind himself that you were actually here with him.

Nodding, you pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I’m perfect.”

Steven smiled, his face flushed and eyes alight with love. “We still got some chocolate left.”

“Mm.” You reached for the box, sliding the pink and red wrapping your way and reaching for the piece that lay in the center. “My turn,” you breathed.

His laugh had your heart racing, your eyes tracing every feature you could memorize. Drinking him in like he was your own brand of wine. You wanted to spend every moment with him, wrapped up in your own small world of love.

“Happy Valentine’s Day love,” he said softly, his thumb running along your cheek. “I love you.”

You smiled, leaning down to kiss him one more time, the chocolate melting between your fingers. “I love you Steven.” He wrapped his lips around your fingers, taking the candy into his mouth. “Happy Valentine’s Day baby,” you replied, smiling as he licked you clean.

Half a bottle of wine still remained, the album barely hitting its halfway point, and the moon was barely rising in the night sky. Giving the both of you the remainder of the night to celebrate. Laying your head on his shoulder, you soaked in his warmth, letting your fingers toy with his necklace. When it came to Steven, you absolutely didn’t mind this day—as long as you spent every moment of it with him.

[vermilionskiinmorning]

Too Sweet || F!Resist Durge || Durgtash & GalexDurge

Note: This immediately follows my last Durge fic called Abandoned which you can read here. Warning, this includes some semi-spicy content, but like nothing too spicy because that's just not my forte, but I hope it's alright. Anyway, what kind of interactions would you guys be interested in next? I've got several things planned so far, but I'm also open to ideas

Pairing: DurgexGale & DurgexEnver

Words: 4318

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The door she’d opened into the back wall of Sharess’s Caress spit Feravel out onto the ground in more of a heap than she’d intended. Then she had been falling when she cast the door so being in one piece was a start. There had been a moment of fear when she wondered if the momentum of falling would pitch her off the scaffolding walkway, but she managed to steady herself before tumbling too far. Quickly righting herself, lest someone see her less than smooth escape from the archduke, Feravel took a few calming breaths.

“You were mine.”

It echoed in her mind bringing forth a whirl of images, but all passed too rapidly for her to grasp hold of anything tangible. Feravel rubbed her forehead trying to stave off the on coming headache. One day, she hoped this throbbing pain would fade. Maybe when she’d made enough new memories that the ones she lost no longer troubled her. Until then, she just had to carry on as best she could.  Tucking her hands into her pockets, she began making her way back toward the lower city.

Slipping back in to her group’s shared quarters at the Elf Song was an easy feat. Though it was late, the tavern below still hummed with energy. There was plenty of noise to cover the click of the door and her footsteps once inside. A cursory glance around the room told her most of her companions were already asleep, but a few of them must still be down in the tavern enjoying the evening -judging by their empty beds. However, in front of the fire on the floor sat Gale slumped half against one of the armchairs with Scratch’s head resting on his knee. Next to him was a half empty bottle of wine and two glasses -only one of them had been used and still sat half full. Gale’s breaths were slow and deep, but she couldn’t imagine he was comfortable.

Had he been waiting for her? He was the one who’d said he needed time to think. She had only wanted to allow that for him by staying away.

As she looked at Gale’s peaceful face, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was Gale’s and if she was, did he still want her to be. They were together, loved each other surely and were forever bonded by that night in the weave when they'd shared everything -as well as the more physical evenings they’d shared together. Bonded was how Gale described their relationship though. It hadn’t occurred to her before that she wanted him to be hers or to be his in any official sense though. They were what they were. There was hardly much time on the road to worry about that sort of thing anyhow. Was it because they’d reached some civilization that she was thinking about it? Or was she now feeling insecure after the claim Gortash made?

“Mine.” Feravel whispered to herself.

Possessiveness ran through her as she uttered the word. Oddly, it made the urge sing in her blood just as surely as her heart did with happiness.

Scratch’s ear twitched at the sound of her voice and slowly he opened his eyes to gaze up at her. His tail wagged happily. Unfortunately, Scratch’s tail was in range of hitting Gale’s arm and before Feravel could make herself scarce the wizard was groggily opening his eyes as well. Instinctively she froze. She hadn’t a hope of escaping unseen when she was so close to him.

“What is it Scratch? Do you need out?” Gale asked the dog groggily.

The dog whined and nudged Gale’s hand in her direction. She shot the beast a look of pure betrayal -all the times she’d slipped him treats and rubbed his belly. Scratch just wagged his tail and Feravel felt certain he would’ve laughed at her if he could as he padded away. She’d remember that next time he came sniffing around her pack.

“Fera?” Gale murmured.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you. Well I sort of did, you looked really uncomfortable. I’d hate for you to have neck cramps tomorrow from sleeping all wonky. You know, when your bed is just over there…” She blurted out. “I’ll go…get some rest, Gale.”

It seemed to take a few seconds for Gale’s sleep addled mind to catch up with her hastened words. Feravel was already turning to make her escape, cheeks burning, when Gale stood and grabbed her by the hand. Halting mid step, she turned back hesitantly to face him.

“Don’t! Don’t go.” He said softly. “I was unnecessarily harsh with you this afternoon. It was unfair of me to hold you responsible for the actions of your past self -a self you can not even remember! Whatever sins you committed in the past; they’re not your’s -not the Feravel I know. After all, despite your dark urge, I've never known you to be the sort of person capable of such things -not of your own will. And who in the world would expect...betrayed in the eleventh hour of an evil plot isn’t usually the secret behind mysterious memory loss."

He paused a moment.

"I swore to help you find a way to free yourself from the urge and I stand by that. It was just, in that moment, I was -I was over come…”

Feravel opened her mouth to speak.

“Please, let me finish?” Gale raised his hand, pleading with her to wait. “That bastard…the way he acted as if he knew you.”

Gale’s expression darkened. Feravel knew he had to be thinking about Gortash kissing her there in the hall -infront of the gods and everyone. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously.

“For a moment, it felt like you were this stranger Gortash was describing…”

It surprised her to see Gale’s fingers slowly icing over as his ray of frost cantrip seemed to be forming -as if he could strike at Gortash all the way from there. She reached tentatively for Gale’s clenched fist, lightly taking it in her hands. Her thumb brushed over his knuckles soothingly.

“Gale…?”

He seemed abruptly to return to himself and the ice immediately disappeared from his hand.

“My apologies, I meant only that I’m sorry for my behavior towards you, my dear. I hope you can forgive my transgression?” He turned his hand so that he was holding hers in his palm and covered them with his other hand.

Guilt twisted sharply in her gut. Of course Gale’s expression was open and honest as he always had been ever since he’d shown her his past. They’d had no secrets since then. It was hard for her to actively have secrets anyway when her life felt like a nearly blank slate. Blank aside from the urge and glimpses of Gortash.

Enver Gortash who she’d just let kiss her up in his fortress. She hadn’t even been able to respond but for her surprise in the audience hall. In his office though, she’d been an active participant. If killing Gortash wasn’t already on their agenda, she was sure from the look in Gale’s eye, he would’ve strongly argued to add it after today.

A cold feeling of emptiness settled in Feravel’s gut at the idea of Enver being dead. Though it was chased away by the warm feeling of Gale’s hand on her cheek tilting her face up to look at him. He still held her hands in the one not cupping her cheek and he looked concerned.

“Fera, please say you forgive me?”

Without hesitation, she replied. “Of course I forgive you Gale.”

“That is a relief.” His face relaxed into an easy smile. He brushed his thumb affectionately along her cheek. “When you didn’t come back, I can’t say I didn’t fear you might not. Whether through your own choice or that something had happened to you…Orin’s assassins.”

“I’m here. I’m safe.”

Gale squeezed her hands quickly before releasing her to stride over to a nearby table. The tray of food it held had completely slipped her notice so focused she was on the dark haired wizard.

“I had this sent up a few hours ago. If you’re hungry? I cannot say the flavor is as expertly crafted as what I myself might’ve done, but it is passable and fresh at least. I had hoped we could eat together and discuss our plans for tomorrow.”

She couldn’t say she was hungry anyhow after the veritable feast Gortash had laid out. Not that she could easily tell Gale that.

“Ah, I picked something up at a stall actually.” She flashed him a half regretful smile when his face fell marginally. “But we could still have a drink?”

“Yes! I was able to procure a rather excellent vintage you should love.”

Gale swiftly fetched the bottle and glasses from where they’d been forgotten before the fire.

“Wine?” She asked with a slight hint of humor.

“But of course, you know my weakness, and with a proper selection available I couldn’t help myself. One never knows which day might be their last in such uncertain times. Best to enjoy what time and small pleasures we have.”

He poured a fair measure into the goblet for her and kept the half empty one for himself. They both took seats at the small table and were silent for a time enjoying each other’s company and the wine. Feravel reached across the table and took Gale’s hand again. He smiled at her and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Tomorrow then?” She prompted.

“Ah yes! Sorceress Sundries! No better place in the Gate to find all manner of magical artifacts and tomes. There’s not doubt they’ll have a volume or two tucked away on Netherese magic which could allow us to better understand the crown.”

Feravel furrowed her brow. She wasn’t sure she liked his time much when he referred to the crown. Curiosity was natural. Even she couldn’t say she wasn’t intrigued by its magical power, but she was also wary of its potential for destruction. All magic had an equal and opposite force. The weave…and the shadow weave. Conjuration and abjuration magics. Gale knew this, but he'd been tempted by this same prospect before. Her eyes fell to the spot she knew the mark of the orb was branded into his chest. Hidden just out of sight, much the same as the danger it presented. Had stabilizing the orb robbed him of the lesson he'd learned? She prayed not. 

“Of course…”

He didn’t seem to notice how unsure she sounded and went on to discuss further about the many things they might find at the shop. Even musing over the possibility of healing magics they'd yet to learn of or consider in regard to her own problem. Feravel knew they were unlikely to find anything which might combat the urge though.

“Isn’t this place owned by that wizard who was looking for the Nightsong?” She furrowed her brow in thought -having only just then remembered.

Since they’d discovered the Nightsong was infact a person, or rather an Aasimar, Dame Alyin, Feravel hadn’t really thought much about the adventurers who’d been searching for the mysterious artifact.

“You’re right! I suppose we ought to speak with him while we’re there then as well. Lorroakan, I believe he’s called, I’m not familiar with him myself. We’ve never run in the same circles.”

“Yeah…I wonder if he didn’t know the Nightsong wasn’t an artifact all along.”

Gale frowned. “I suppose it would be wise to be cautious then.”

Feravel nodded then her eyes fell to her glass. It was almost empty. There was more in the bottle, but if they were to be up early she didn’t think it wise to indulge further.

“Perhaps we should take Lae’zel or Shadowheart with us then? I think Karlach and Halsin (maybe Wyll too?) are accompanying Astarion to scope out Cazador’s palace before we make any moves in that regard…”

“Karlach’s going?” Gale asked, sounding a tad amused.

“I think she’s the muscle incase anything goes wrong.” Said Feravel with a chuckle -imagining Karlach attempting to sneak around a vampire's palace undetected. “Or look out. I’m not sure, but I got the feeling she’s meant to fetch us if things go wrong and or seem especially dire.”

“Ah yes of course.”

A few beats of silence passed where they just smiled. It felt almost like they were alone.

“Gale?”

“Yes love?”

Her heart fluttered.

“What will we do after this is over?”

Gale didn’t respond at once. He looked down at their entwined fingers thoughtfully. It felt like he was choosing his words with great precision.

“Would you return home with me, to Waterdeep?”

“I hope you don’t intend to return to your life as a recluse?” Feravel asked.

Gale’s chuckle broke some of the tension that has built between them. “Oh no! With the orb stabilized there’s no need for that, but I could put in for a position at Blackstaff. I believe I might’ve heard about a retiring professor or two.”

He didn’t sound entirely sure, more that he was considering it only now as a possibility.

She hummed thoughtfully. “Teaching would suit you…and what would I do?”

Gale tapped the back of her hand thoughtfully.

“Well is there anything you’d like to do?”

Feravel hadn’t really considered it much. The threat of there being no tomorrow often interrupted any such ideas. She had entertained a few though.

“I might like to open a shop…?” She tested it as though she wasn’t sure whether it fit or not. “With a workshop.” She wasn’t sure why. Tinkering wasn’t exactly her area of expertise, but it just seemed right. “I think I’d still like to adventure though. Search for rare magical items and such?”

Gale smiled, hopefully. “And you’d live with me?”

Feravel’s heart clenched. She’d never had a home. None that she could remember any how. The closest thing she had would be her tent at camp, but that wasn’t a home so much as a place to sleep and a vague collection of her belongings. She had a feeling that where ever she lived and stayed as the Chosen of Bhaal wouldn't exactly be anything she'd now consider a home.

“At your tower?”

“Where else?” Gale asked.

“It’s your home. You’d share it with me?” She asked.

Gale furrowed his brow. “Of course!”

A broad grin split across her face as Feravel all but launched herself across the table to kiss Gale. He was momentarily shocked by her sudden onslaught, but she could feel him smile against her lips as his brain caught up. Their kiss was short but filled with passion which was perfunctorily interrupted by Gale attempting to draw her closer and accidentally knocking his goblet from the table instead. Thankfully it had been empty.

Reluctantly they broke apart.

“I suppose I might be able to take that as a yes then?”

She laughed. “Yes!”

“I know it’s late, but come sit with me awhile?” Gale gestured to where he’d been seated beside the fire when she arrived.

Wordlessly, Feravel followed him and took a seat at his side where he immediately wrapped his arm around her shoulder drawing her close. The familiar comforting scent of parchment, birch and lavender surrounded her as she leaned against him. It was so uniquely Gale that she could’ve identified it anywhere.

“I love you.” She said.

Turning to him, she found him smiling as he always did when she said as much. It made her heart soar.

“And I you.”

He lifted her chin to kiss her. When he made to withdraw though, she followed, deepening the kiss instead. Her tongue traced along his lip teasingly to which he conceded without a hint of protest. Gale slid his hand from her chin along her jaw to where it met her ear. Feravel made a soft sound of satisfaction into his mouth. She maneuvered herself from her place beside him and into his lap as gracefully as she could manage without breaking the kiss. He stifled his chuckle at her scrambling by kissing a trail from her lips along the other side of her jaw. A breathy exhale slipped past her lips and she shifted in his lap to get closer which caused him to nip her neck and shush her quietly.

He ran his hands over her thighs to her hips which he gripped firmly as he leaned forward lowering her back onto the rug. She rested her hands on either side of his neck as she tried to steady her breathing. Gale’s usually bright eyes were darkened and his gaze on her felt like oxygen to a flame, feeding the fire building inside her.

“Gale.”

“I know.” He whispered.

She glanced in the direction she knew their friends to be sleeping. A silent war beginning in her mind. Could they be quiet enough that it wouldn’t wake anyone? Her eyebrow arched at Gale. Wordlessly posing the question to him.

Before he could make any indication one way or another, they hear footsteps out in the hall that were drawing closer. One of the others who’d still been downstairs by the fact they weren’t bothering to hide their presence. An attacker or intruder would have gone to greater lengths to approach undetected. Feravel cursed under her breath as she irritably disentangled herself from Gale who only looked marginally less annoyed by the interruption. It seemed like it took an age for the door to open with the fire Gale had stoked racing through her veins, but when it did Feravel thought she could strangle Astarion who sauntered in looking like he had no care in the world.

“Evening darling and Gale.” Astarion said, grinning at them. “So good to see you weren’t murdered on your little jaunt around town. Our poor wizard was terribly worried.”

Feravel opened her mouth to retort, but snapped it shut for fear of raising voice at him and waking people in her annoyance at him. Astarion poorly hid his smirk behind his hand as his gaze flicked between her and Gale. The bastard knew exactly what he'd been interrupting. Gale for his part seemed to have regained control of himself and just looked rather tired.

“Well…I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t stay up too late.” He winked and strode off towards his bed.

Feravel deflated the moment the spawn was out of view. She looked at Gale and knew there was no picking up where they’d left off. It had been a long day, it was now very late, and the moment of excitement had passed. Besides, Feravel told herself, they wouldn’t have been able to get away with anything undetected anyway. Perhaps she’d be able to strong arm the barkeep for a private room at some point she wondered. Just as she considered it, Gale spoke interrupting her thoughts.

“We’d better get some rest.”

She sighed, looking longingly at him. “I know.”

He leaned in and kissed her cheek chastely, whispering. “Another time, soon.”

Soon, hopefully this would all be over. Then soon wouldn’t be a problem anymore. At his tower in Waterdeep there would be no one to hear them. Well no one besides Tara, but surely there were enough floors that she wouldn’t have to be nearby if it bothered her. Gods Feravel hoped the cat wouldn't follow them around in an attempt to discourage such things. She'd hardly seemed very friendly during their brief meeting at the temple of Ilmater. There must be a way she could win the beast over. Not calling her a cat for a start, she could almost hear Gale say.

Pushing the concern for grumpy tressyms from her mind Feravel made her way to her bed and climbed in. Her insides hadn’t quite cooled down, but still she laid down and closed her eyes. Eventually she would fall asleep she told herself. She just had to stop thinking about Gale’s lips or his tongue first.

When she finally was able to drift off, she dreamed. The most vivid dream she could recall, but perhaps that was because it was not just a dream -it was a memory.

She lay curled up on a plush velvet rug before a crackling fire, a pillow propped under her head and a warm blanket draped over her lower body. The heat wasn’t just coming from the fire though, behind her was a warm masculine body which she was tucked securely against. He was tracing lazy patterns with his finger tips from her shoulder and up the side of her neck. She let out a soft hmmm of contentment when he reached her ear and tucked a piece of hair behind it.

“You are exquisite.”

His breath fanned hot across her cheek causing a ripple of excitement to run through her.

“Flatterer.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps, but not with you.” He pressed a kiss to her neck. “I could never overstate your beauty.” Another kiss, lower on her neck. “Intelligence.” Another on her collarbone as his fingers ran down her rib cage. “Charm.”

Turning swiftly to face him, she pushed him back to lie flat on the rug, and swung her leg over his waist to straddle him. She held his traitorous hand by the wrist pinning it above his head.

“Be careful now, I would hate for you to start something you cannot finish.”

Her words were a sultry drawl. Enver’s eyes reflected a flicker of the firelight. He rested his free hand at her waist as he watched her hovering above him.

“I recall you told me some utter rubbish several weeks ago about only being human…needing your rest. Perhaps I should take my leave so as not to distract you?”

“True, I did say that.” He twisted his wrist from her grasp and she made no effort to stop him -a mischievous grin still playing at her lips. With his now free hand, he took hold of her other hip and pulled her against him, eliciting a soft moan from Feravel. “But, missing a nights rest is nothing for you.”

“Every once in a while at least? We wouldn’t want you to become negligent in your many duties.” She teased raking her finger nails down his chest.

Humming in agreement, Enver lifted his hips up so that Feravel’s core slid down his length and elicited a satisfied moan from the pair.

“I would  so  hate if my favorite Banite were to become dysfunctional. Good help is very difficult to find after all.”

Enver rolled his eyes. “One night will not render me inert, my dear, besides it is still early.”

Feravel lifted an eyebrow and glanced at the window where she could just see the faintest pink steaks coloring the sky. “Is it? It looks to me to be quite late.”

A grin curled his lips. “No, it is very early in the morning.”

“So it is.” She chuckled.

He leaned forward giving her a searing kiss, of such intensity she moaned against his lips.

“I would do most anything for you.”

The words were just a breath against her lips.

Suddenly her Urge twisted inside her, calling for blood. A fire of raced through her causing Feravel to tense momentarily. She wanted to pull away, put a safe distance between herself and Enver, give him a warning, but it was too sudden. Then her hand moved of its own accord to tighten around Enver’s throat. She pulled back to stare into his eyes.

“Would you  die for me?”

Enver stared intently into her eyes.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Feravel’s head ached something fierce and she sat up sharply in bed heaving deep breaths. It felt like she’d been plunged into an icy cold river after being wrapped in a deliciously warm embrace. Nausea washed over her in waves. She barely made it to the washroom before she was vomiting wine and bile into the basin. Pain stung sharply behind her eyes so horribly that they began to water. The pounding in her head was near unbearable. Waves of the intense urge she'd felt in the dream washed over her causing her to grip the basin painfully hard as she gasped for air.

The sound of footsteps behind her immediately sent Feravel into a panic. She hadn't gotten a grip on the urge yet. An icy chill of fear at the thought of what the urge might make her do fought against the burning lust for blood.

"Too much wine?" It was Astarion.

"Don't come any closer!" She snapped.

The footsteps stopped. She could feel his gaze on her back. 

After a moment he asked. "Shall I fetch the wizard?"

"Astarion. If you don't leave. I may gut you."

She managed to force the words out through gritted teeth despite the focus it took to hold onto the basin instead of reach for the nearest weapon. The only other time the urge had been so strong while she was conscious was when it had tried to force her to kill Gale. If she could just ride it out alone it would have to pass. With no potential victim close by it would have to wane...eventually.

But why was it so strong?

The dream. Enver. Had she almost killed him? 

Astarion hadn't moved. His heart didn't beat, but she could feel his presence. 

Kill. Kill. KILL.

"LEAVE!" 

Only sometime after his footsteps receded did she finally start to feel in control of herself again. Breathing slow calming breaths, Feravel experimented by slowly loosening her grip on the basin until she managed to fully release it. When she didn't immediately feel over come by the desire to do violence she leaned back and flopped down onto the floor. Tears filled her eyes.

[builtbykittie]

Play fighting

Samuel Kiszka x f!reader

See part two here

Summary: Your best friend Sam invites you over for a dinner at his place, theres no harm in a little play fighting, right?

Words: roughly 3.6k

Warnings: some friends to lovers action, alcohol consumption, slapping/hitting, sorta bratty Sam, SMUT, dom Sam, slight impact play, masturbation, unprotected sex (don't do it y'all), slight cock warming, BONUS: mentions of Jake having a gf (sorry Jake girls)

A/N: a Sammy fic in honor of his birthday, I had to speed through this to get it out before/by the third because, for some smart reason, I decided to start it hella late so I am very sorry if it is not the best.

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You find yourself at the steps of your best friend's house for about the 2nd time this week. Sam had invited you for dinner with him, Danny, Jake, & Josh after you recently mentioned wanting to see his brothers again. Unsurprisingly, instead of simply making a reservation at a nice restaurant, Sam insisted on making dinner.

"Y/N!" Sam exclaims as he opens the door, throwing his arms in the air and immediately pulling you through the door. "Jesus Sam, I saw you yesterday," you giggle while trying to escape his hold on you.

"Hi guys!" you wave to the boys sitting at the island, you must've been tardy since you got here after everyone else. Setting down your bag on the counter, Sam stabs his index finger into your side, eliciting a yelp and flinch from you.

"You asshole!" You whine, lifting your arm to hit him, but are stopped by a death grip on your wrist. "Calm down, princess," he nonchalantly lets go of your wrist and brings his hand up to your chin, squeezing the skin of your cheeks to make your lips pucker.

"Knock it off," you mumble, pulling his hand away from your mouth to pour a glass of wine.

You walk into the living room where Jake is sat with tequila in hand listening to the music playing for background noise. "So... Y/N," Jake devilishly smiles, your mind preparing for whatever he's about to say. "Yes, Jakey?" You sit down next to him, anxiously sipping the wine you poured just minutes before.

"You and Sam hookup yet?" He nudges your arm with his elbow which causes a drop to jump up and splash back down in your glass. "Jake!" You gasp, and you feel your cheeks start to grow red "I can't remember how many times I've told you, we're just friends!"

Jake lets out a chuckle from within his chest "oh come on Y/N. You're always flirting with each other, I swear to god I've seen his hand up your skirt." You start to become flustered in reaction to his words, and the thought of your best friend's hand up your skirt gets stuck in your mind. "First of all, I can assure you that you've never seen his hand up my skirt."

You stand up in protest "and second of all I would not give up our years of friendship just to relieve some 'sexual tension'." You watch as Jake's lips curl up into a shit-eating grin, now you know you've messed up.

"So you admit it? There is something with you two."

Of course there was. Sam was too hot for his own good and you couldn't stop yourself from thinking it. You would never admit it aloud, but you loved whenever Sam fucked with you. There was no denying you felt something for your best friend, however, there was nothing to do about it.

"No Jake that's not what I meant," you lied "can we talk about something else? Please?"

---

"How was it?" Sam smiles as you approach him at the sink, waiting your turn to wash your plate off. "Terrible," you crash your hip into him with a giggle "no, it was really good, thanks Sammy."

"Ah, the wife's calling," Jake jokes in that British accent everyone likes to call 'Oliver Reed', specifically when he's drunk. Not long after picking up the phone, Jake hangs up with who seems to be his girlfriend "hey guys I'm gonna head home."

"You sure you can drive like this?" You giggle, settling next to Sam on the couch. "I can drive," Josh suggests, knowing damn well he's not any less drunk than anyone else here.

"Whatever, just get home safe," Sam wraps his arm around the back of the sofa and leans back, waving to his brothers getting their coats on and ready to leave. "You guys, if there's anyone who has to drive I think it should be Daniel," Sam nods his head in agreement with your words.

"What? Are you trying to get rid of me?" Danny smiles, grabbing his keys and jacket. "No! I was just saying!" you blush, sitting up and leaning forward. "Oh it's fine, I needed to get some things done around the house anyways.. and it'd be better if they didn't die. I'll see you later," Danny meets the other two at the door with a smile.

"Bye, guys! Love you!" You call as they file out the door, earning waves and 'goodbyes' from them before turning your attention to Sam. "Guess it's just you and me handsome," you joke, bringing your knees up to your chest and bumping him with your leg.

"How about we switch this music to something smoother, maybe.. jazz?" Sam gestures to the record player, standing slowly on steady legs. Suddenly, that image Jake gave you of Sam's hand up your skirt pops into your mind. You got nervous at the thought of being alone with Sam, tipsy and listening to smooth jazz.

You stand up to shake the inappropriate thoughts, you'd be lying if you said this was the first time you thought about him in this way. "Aww, Sammy," you giggle "you finally got an incense holder!"

You've been pestering him for not owning a holder for weeks, at some point he must've given in and bought one. You pull a mystery stick out of a mini vase "what is it? The scent."

"I don't know, light it and find out," Sam turns his head to look at you after finally getting the damn vinyl situated, the soothing sounds of jazz filling the room. "You know," Sam adds, his lips curling up into a smirk "Jake was talking to me earlier."

Your heart starts beating at an unimaginable pace, of course Jake talked to Sam as well. "Really? Me too," you step back from the shelf where his vinyls and incense sit, trying to muster up all the confidence you could.

"Yeah? Then I'm assuming he said the same thing to you, huh?" Sam has that stupid grin on his face that he always does whenever he's up to no good. "The thing about me and you?" You put your hands on your hips.

"what about you and me?" Sam smirks "I was thinking of what he said about my cooking."

Suddenly your cheeks get dangerously hot and you plant your face in your hands "oh god, Sam!" Of course, Sam knew what he was doing, it was in his nature to fuck with you. He knew exactly what you were talking about.

His devious laughter at your distaste infuriates you. Without a second thought, you are angrily walking over to him and hitting his chest with just enough force to make him fight back.

Before you can get a second hit on him he's hooking his arm behind your knees and lifting you into the air. "Hey!" You kick your legs as he adjusts you to be hanging upside down. You're lucky the dress you wore was fitted or else everything would be on display for your best friend to see "Sam! I'm wearing a dress!"

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you hit me like a little brat," he chuckles, your slip dress starting to bunch up at your shorts. Before you can protest, you're being laid down on the floor and he's fixing the skirt "wouldn't want my princess to be uncomfortable."

His cocky words spark something inside of you, you start to feel the wetness growing between your thighs and there was absolutely no stopping it. You start to sit up, grabbing onto Sam's legs and pulling him down with loud giggles.

"Agh! Man down!" Sam shouts, prying your arms off from around his legs. You quickly stand up before he can do anything, jolting back to avoid his arms swatting at your feet. "Come on Sammy! Stand up, tough guy!" You cackle, holding up your arms as if to punch.

"Oh, you don't really think you can beat me, do you?" Sam chuckles, rising to his feet and grabbing your wrists in an iron grip. "Well if you'd let go of my arms maybe I could!" You giggle, yanking your arms back and kicking his shins.

"Ow, you little shit!" He lets go of your arms and attempts to tackle you despite your many dodges. Finally, Sam gets you down and wrestles for dominance, the both of you frantically moving around the soft carpet.

Suddenly, you scurry up to your feet and away from your best friend. "Where do you think you're going?" Sam chuckles, quickly standing up and walking over to you. You were standing by a wall, already plotting your escape but too late once he approaches you.

Unknowing what to do, you start hitting his chest, loud giggles escaping your lips with each throw of your arms. Sam slots his leg between your thighs and slams you against the wall, grabbing your arms and pinning them by your head.

You stop giggling, your eyes wide and mouth agape. "What's wrong baby?" Sam smirks as you squirm under his grasp, unable to escape from his hold. Sam's eyes grow dark and blown out with lust "looks like you lost, princess."

"Sam," his name comes out in a broken whisper as you look down to your feet, there was absolutely no chance of shutting him off now. Staring intently into his eyes, you start to stutter "Sam, we're drunk."

By now, the incense has burned out and you both completely drowned out the music playing in the back. "Mm, not really," he inches closer "it's been a while."

He was right, you were buzzed, but not drunk. You were frightened, not sure if this is how your friendship with him would end. Your mind races as he brings his face even closer, his warm breath fanning across your face "Sam.. Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," Sam presses a kiss to your cheek "are you?" You stood with your reflections, trying to decide what to do as quickly as possible.

"Mhm," you consent, looking up and locking your eyes with his. "Let me hear you say it, lovely," he kisses the corner of your mouth, letting go of your arm and stroking your cheek. "Yes, Sammy. Please kiss me," you whisper, gazing into his beautiful eyes with great adoration.

Wasting no time, he smashes his lips against yours. Your lips molded together beautifully, locking like puzzle pieces. To your surprise, the slow, passionate kiss turned hungry within a matter of seconds. He drops your arm with his other hand, his arms wandering from your face to your waist, holding you still against the wall, and his tongue swipes across your lips.

You open your mouth slightly to grant him access to your mouth, and his hands move down further to hold your ass with a squeeze. "Sam," you pull back "take me to your room."

"A bit impatient, are you?" Sam smiles smugly, landing a slap against your ass which causes you to release a small moan. With a chuckle, Sam is lifting you by your legs once again and throws you over his shoulder to bring you to his room, now making sure your dress falls to your waist with a slight shake of your body.

With every step up the stairs, you grow more and more impatient, your arousal soaking your panties at the excitement of knowing you were moments away from fucking your devastatingly attractive best friend.

The door opens and he sets you down, you look around the familiar setting of his minimal cozy room, basking in the beautiful scent of sandalwood and possibly eucalyptus. Your moment of contentment is interrupted by the loud slamming of the door behind you and Sam's footsteps toward you.

The first time you had ever considered Sam in this way was after a long day. Stress had piled up due to work and you decided to relieve it by taking a warm shower, but after that didn't work you decided to take it into your own hands, literally. As you reached your peak, you pictured Sam's hand replacing your own, and you couldn't shake that thought for weeks.

"Tell me doll," Sam cups your cheek "how do you like it?" You impatiently pull down your shorts so that they're resting at your ankles "I don't care, just fuck me."

"What's the magic word?" he squeezes your face in between his hands to the point where it starts to hurt. "Seriously, Sam?" you pull on his hands in an attempt to get him to let go.

"I'm not gonna touch you until you say it, spoiled brat," instead of letting go, he squeezes your cheeks tighter. "Oh my God, fine." you muster up the best 'fuck me' eyes you possibly could "please Sammy, fuck me. I need it so bad."

"Atta girl," he lets go of his hold on your cheeks, gently slapping one cheek before pulling the top of your dress down below your breasts. "God, you're fucking gorgeous," Sam marvels at your chest, your nipples instantly stiffening at the air hitting your freshly bare boobs.

"On the bed," Sam demands, undoing his belt. You do just as he says, climbing on the bed and sitting on your shins, your hands tucked neatly between your thighs so that your arms are pushing your breasts together slightly.

The bed you were sitting on was the same bed he held you in while you were crying, the same bed he took you to after blacking out at the bar, the same bed you gossiped to him in, and now it'll be the same bed he fucked you in.

He lets both his pants and boxers fall to his ankles, pulling them off his feet and walking toward you. "Oh my God," you mutter, squeezing your thighs together even tighter than before. "What is it, baby?" Sam wraps his hand around his cock with an iron grip, pumping at a dangerously slow pace that made you wince in anticipation.

"Sam, you- you're big," you stutter, shamelessly staring at his length in awe. "What'd you expect pretty?" Sam smirks, incredibly proud of himself.

"I don't know," you finally break eye contact with his cock to look at his face "not this."

"Were you really about to fuck me while expecting me to be small?" Sam fakes offense, a shit-eating smirk you knew all too well playing on his lips. "No! I thought you were gonna be, I don't know.. average," you stutter, your head dropping to look down at your knees.

"Look at me," Sam's voice gets deeper. Your head darts up, meeting his lust-blown eyes.

Sam takes steady steps toward you, climbing on the bed and sitting in front of you. He taps the underside of your thigh "Sit up." Without another second to waste, you're rising, shifting your weight fully onto your knees.

Sam hikes up your dress, sighing at the inconvenience of your panties blocking his access "take these off." You shimmy the fabric off of your hips and down to your knees as he removes his shirt from his body. Sam does not wait to slot his fingers between the lips of your heat.

Your hand flies to his cock as he starts to rub merciless circles around your clit, swirling your hand around his rock-hard length. "Oh God, Sammy," his name flies out of your mouth so effortlessly, like it was always meant to emerge from your lips in such a lewd situation like this.

Sam speeds up his pace, your upper body collapses into his shoulder and your legs start to quiver. You begin to slow down your arm, leisurely stroking him and tugging with each pump. "Fuck Y/N just like that," Sam groans, almost as a whisper.

"Sammy!" you moan "oh my God Sam, I'm close." The sensation was so addictive, jutting your hips forward to chase your upcoming high.

"I know baby," he could tell by your breath significantly speeding up and your moans progressively getting louder and louder.

Before either of you can reach orgasm, he pulls his hand from you and rips your hand away from him. Leaning in toward you, he whispers deeply into your ear "don't think I'm letting you off that easily, after hitting me and saying you could beat me."

"Please Sam," you whine, falling back down onto your shins with a pout. "Jesus Christ Y/N, don't be so impatient. I'll make you cum once you've earned it."

"Yeah? And how do I do that Sammy?" you furrow your brows, annoyed at his cocky attitude. "When you stop acting like a spoiled, needy bitch," he grunts, flipping you over and shoving your head into the sheets.

You've seen sam upset before, but never like this. It was intriguing, and without a doubt hot.

With your ass pointing up in the air, he situates himself behind you and lays a smack against it. "I think you need to apologize before I can fuck you," Sam grasps the meat of your ass.

"Oh my God," you mumble, just loud enough for Sam to hear and slap your ass in disapproval. "Sam, I am so sorry for being a brat. Please, fuck me," you beg, swivelling your hips for him to know you're ready.

"Good," Sam swipes his hand over the red mark on your ass before grasping the base of his cock and flicking his tip over your soaked pussy which is just enough for you to moan his name softly.

Without warning, Sam is stretching you out in one slow and agonizing thrust before pulling out to come back down with one quicker, sharper thrust into you. The sting of him stretching you out felt so amazing "how does it feel doll?"

"So good Sammy. Please, never stop," you moan, moving your head to make sure your words are heard. Sam bends down so that his chest is flush against the skin of your back not being covered by the silk fabric, snaking his arm around you to meet his fingers with your clit, your body jolting at the sensation.

You mewl as he starts to rub harsh circles on your little bundle of nerves whilst thrusting deep into you. "Yeah? You like that baby?" Sam mutters between thrusts and heavy breaths. You shriek his name into the sheets of his bed before frantically nodding your head, your arm snaking down to meet his hand and adjusting his fingers to be pressing hard against the swollen bud.

"Oh God Sam," you cry, the head of his beautiful cock hitting a different sweet spot with every thrust. He hit spots you didn't think were possible to hit, spots that you didn't even know existed and were desperate for attention.

"Come on princess, let go for me," Sam whispers, his cock beginning to brush against your g spot with each movement of his hips. Sam sits back up, fingers still rubbing around your clit and still thrusting mercilessly into you, now just covered in a thin layer of sweat caused by your hot bodies pressed against each other.

"Shit," he mumbles, his orgasm quickly approaching him. A heavy fog takes over your mind, completely blurring your vision as the knot in your stomach tightens.

The band of pleasure inside you snaps, and you cry out as he helps you ride out your high, his orgasm coming just seconds after. The warm sensation of his cum spurting out inside you was addicting, you would let him stay inside of you like this all night if given the chance.

The pleasure he gave you was unlike anything you've ever felt before, it was so different from all your other partners that failed to please you. It's like Sam already knew your body, like you've done this with him a million times before.

His thrusts come to a slow stop, staying still in the same position for a few moments to fully come back down to earth. Sam starts to pull out "wait," you mutter, not ready to miss the contact just yet.

"Just tell me when you're ready baby," Sam's tone is much different from what you've seen tonight, it was soft and sincere. As much as you loved his sassy attitude, this sweet tone could instantly make you fall in love all over again.

"Okay," you mutter after waiting a few seconds, bracing yourself. Slowly, he pulls out of you, and you hiss at the sensation followed by a breathy moan. Sam slowly crawls around and lays next to you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer.

You cuddle your head into his chest, damp due to the thin layer of sweat coating both of your bodies. "Jesus Christ," you start to giggle, your head tilting up to get a good look at his gorgeous face.

You slowly sit up and crawl toward the edge of the bed, struggling to stand on weak legs, Sam following you. You shed off the remaining fabric on your body before lifting the toilet seat and sitting down, Sam wetting a washcloth with warm water as you go pee. "Wait," he places his hand on your shoulder to sit you back down while you go to stand up.

Sam taps your knee "open for me." He gently wipes the sticky slick off of your inner thighs before peppering soft kisses to the area. "Thanks, Sammy," you smile, kissing the top of his head and holding onto him as you both stand up.

"So what now?" you say, laying back down next to him in the bed, your mind flipping through every consequence of having sex with your best friend. "Shh," he whispers "we can talk in the morning."

You nod your head, lifting your upper body to press a kiss to his beautiful lips before tangling your hands in the soft tresses of his brown hair. It was within a matter of seconds that you start to doze off to the warmth of his body.

"Goodnight Sam," you whisper, getting even closer to his body, as if that was even possible.

"Goodnight lovely."

✧

✧

✧

[brattyprettysub2]

New Year, New Hole

Happy 2024, everyone! Time to bring in the new year with some cruel gender fuckery and emotional blackmail <3

*

"I've never --" Connor swallows. He crosses his arms over his chest and tries not to shiver, wearing only a thin white T-shirt and a pair of briefs. He wishes that Daddy wasn't fully dressed. "I've never done that before."

"I know, darling," Daddy says. He's sitting on the couch, legs spread wide, glass of red wine in his hand. "Innocent little boy with a virgin ass, aren't you?"

Connor mumbles something -- he doesn't know whether it's a protest or an agreement. His pussy is wet and his underwear feels horribly slick. He twists his hands in the hem of his T-shirt. "You could..." He swallows. "You could fuck my pussy."

Daddy laughs. "That's not where I want to fuck you," he says. "I've had your pussy, darling. But good boys get fucked in the ass." He leans back. "Lie on my lap," he says. "Face-down. Time to feel how tight that hole is."

Connor walks forward. He knows how to lie across Daddy's lap when he's a girl, how to look sexy and fluid, all girlish grace and giggle. As a boy, he feels stiff and awkward, not quite sure of how to move, how to present himself for Daddy.

He stops in front of Daddy, standing between his legs. He's pulling so hard at his T-shirt that he's twisting it out of shape, it's going to be unwearable after this. "Daddy," he says. He swallows. "Help."

"Oh, poor boy," Daddy coos, lips twisting into an exaggerated pout. "Are you feeling a bit shy?" He tugs at the leg of Connor's briefs, tugging him closer and then pulling him down to sit on his knee.

Connor nods, tucking his face into Daddy's neck. "A little," he whispers.

He hears the clink of glass on wood as Daddy puts his wine down on the table. "But Daddy's been so nice to you," he says. He slides his hand up Connor's T-shirt, his palm warm where it presses firmly against Connor's belly. "I've even let you wear your top, even though you know how much I adore your fat little tits."

Connor feels his blush travelling all down his neck and chest. "Daddy," he whines. Daddy won't let him buy a binder and he hates it when he's a boy and Daddy draws attention to his breasts. "Please don't."

Daddy slides his hand further up Connor's top and pinches a nipple hard. "These are Daddy's," he says, shaking Connor's breast back and forth. "I'll talk about them however I want to talk about them. Understand, little boy?"

Connor whines. "Yes, Daddy," he says. "S'just... uncomfortable."

"It'll be really uncomfortable when I decide you're talking back too much and slap your tits," Daddy says. He twists Connor's nipple, digging his thumbnail into the delicate skin. "Say Thank you, Daddy."

"Thank you --" Daddy twists harder and Connor gasps. "Thank you, Daddy!"

"Say Thank you for all the attention you give my titties."

Connor's face and eyes burn at the humiliating words. "Thank you for -- for all the attention you give my fat little titties."

Daddy finally lets go of his nipple. "Better," he says. "Tell me to stop again and you're taking that T-shirt off, understand?"

He doesn't wait for a response. He pushes at Connor's hip, shifting him. "Ass up," he says. "Daddy wants his fingers in your ass now."

Connor doesn't dare protest. Daddy's told him before that boys get fucked in the ass and that if he doesn't want that, then he's not allowed to be a boy.

So he doesn't make a peep as Daddy arranges him over his lap, ass in the air. He doesn't protest when Daddy pulls his briefs down, though he blushes when Daddy laughs at how wet and sticky they are. He squeaks when Daddy flicks his cock and comments on how little it is, but Daddy likes noises like that, most of the time. He kicks his legs a little when Daddy spits on his hole, but not enough to make Daddy mad.

And when Daddy presses a finger to his hole, he barely even breathes. And when it slips inside, he squeezes his eyes tightly shut and reminds himself that good boys get fucked in the ass. And he so badly wants to be a good boy.

*

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[thedivinelights]

co-writers: @vincentholdsapen, @vixx-ari

Ebenezer Scrooge captured the Phantasim of Sloth two years ago, and the title of Chainbreaker has only brought the weight of more burdens to be rested upon him.

Now more experienced and knowledgeable in the ways of the afterlife. Scrooge must learn to navigate his own heart and the hearts of others to bring forth the equality that has been sorely lacking... all while dealing with his own search for answers he yearned for so, so long ago.

But will he like what he sees? None can say...

[SNIPPET UNDER THE CUT]

"Well… that was certainly a sight."

"Goodness, I don't think I've ever seen his face turn so red!"

You would think that the spiritual embodiments of Christmas would have some sense of decorum. Perhaps entertaining in the mannerisms befitting their stature in the upper echelons of society. They were mentors, after all. Guides, teachers, redeemers. Blessed with the ability to traverse through time and space, to witness cultures and empires rise and fall throughout centuries, encompassing all of humanity's capacity for kindness.

And yet here Past and Present were… having just been kicked out of the counting house by a red-faced Scrooge who had just about had it up to here with their childish bickering and immature meddling. It appeared he could only take so many accidents regarding ink and wine and flames before he reached his limit.

"I should have known better than to expect an ounce of professionalism out of you two!" If looks could kill, Scrooge would most definitely be considered a murderer at this point as he gripped the door of the counting house with such force that he could break the hinges off of it. A portion of his suit had been set aflame, and his hair was dishevelled and covered in ink, staining the silver and teal strands into a murky black. "Listen here, and listen well: I expect the both of you to go out and get… whatever it is you have to get out of your systems! I don't care if it involves chasing a greasy hog, roller skating, or any other ridiculous activity you come up with, but you are not to step foot into this office until you have regained some manner of rectitude!"

Past couldn't help but whine, their form shifting into that of a young boy as they stamped their foot. "But what about Future?!"

"Future at the very least knows how to conduct themselves in a manner befitting their stature as an Entis." His voice was stern, glaring daggers at Past and forcing them to shift back into their original form. "Now... off with you! Go! And I don't want to see you back here until you behave like the Christmas Ghosts you are meant to be!"

The door slammed shut. The Enti stood there frozen in a spot for a second. Then, the door opened again, revealing a still very much red faced Scrooge accompanied by his most loyal companion, Prudence, who stumbled out the door, eager and slightly confused. 

“Take Prudence with you while you're at it, she needs a breather. Do not get her into any of your preposterously dangerous shenanigans. I mean it!”

tagged: @pinkytoothlesso1 @rom-e-o @m0nsterwife @quill-pen @crimson-phantom-designs