#long lasting silk goddess
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sylkethelabel · 1 year ago
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lilacgaby · 3 months ago
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title: awaken.
pairing: barbarian!bakugo x goddess!reader,
synopsisꨄ. you've been asleep all this time, who knew a barbarian would be the one to awaken you?
(extended ver of this)
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as katsuki wandered through the never ending forest, he let the words of the elders ring through his head. "you'll never be anything more than a placeholder for the next king."
he set off, destined to prove himself, show that he was worth more than any of them could predict. his father was worried and heartbroken at his sudden departure, but his mother understood that he'd need to do this now, or he'd never forgive himself.
the first thing he did as he set off was to secure food for the night. he eyed a group of hogs, all large and heavy, perfect for feeding him throughout the night. he grabbed the bow out of his satchel and aimed it at the largest one, which landed perfectly in his target's head. he couldn't help but to let out a celebratory laugh as it fell to the ground, making the hogs around it scurry off into the forest.
that seemed to be the last of his luck for the day. he now wished he chose a different day to set off, as the rains and winds were heavy, it was impossible to set up camp in the forest as it was. suddenly, through the curtains of heavy greenery, he saw an abandoned structure. he'd prefer anything to the harsh conditions mother nature set out on him now, so he cut through the vines as he made his way into the structure.
it was grand inside, he thought. he couldn't see very well thanks to the darkness brought on by the rains, but from what he could see it must have been a place of high regard in its peak.
he lit a torch, carrying it as he continued on into the structure. he determined it had been a church in its old days, long forgotten due to.. well he didn't figure that part out yet.
he bumped into a object that resembled a bench, besides the old candle wax, fresh leaves, and golden statutes he saw littering it. he made a mental note to take those with him as he organized his things onto the bench.
he laid his wine down first, a treat he'd enjoy on the way back to his kingdom. next, he laid down his clothes he planned to change into. though he was a barbarian, and by nature they did not wear many clothes, katsuki knew the trip would require such clothing, so he brought the best.
his next item was the huge hog he'd caught earlier. he lugged it on to the bench-like object, thinking of how it was a perfect spot to gut and prepare it for his meal later on. speaking of his cooking, he made sure to bring only the finest oils to cook in. he set it down next to the hog, satisfied with his array of items, he'd slumped against the bench, closed his eyes and sighed.
when he opened it again, he saw the shadow of a person moving behind him. alarmed, he readied his other weapon he always kept on his side, his blade welded by his mother.
though, his blade was dropped out of his hand at the sight. his jaw went slack, eyes wide, and the sudden urge to worship overcame him as he finally saw who was behind him.
a gorgeous.. deity? who glowed with an luminous essence, who adorned pointed ears, heavy amounts of gold, a silk dress that encapsulated your body, and an unreadable expression as you sifted through his items.
the ability to speak was taken from him, he felt as if he was at your mercy, and he was. he was on his knees before he could process it.
your hands glided through the items he had placed on the bench, after you finished looking through the group, you finally spared him a glance.
"your gifts are of high value," you spoke, your voice royal, with an unimaginable presence. "i'm not as powerful as i used to be, my temple and followers were lost to time, my memory faded from the minds of the new." you sauntered over to him now, becoming eye-level with him.
he'd never felt so unworthy.
"i have not much i can give you or do for you, so what would you like from me?"
his ability to speak finalky returned, his mind though, remained blank, so he answered with the only thing on his blank mind:
"your hand."
he immediately rescinded back, never feeling so unnerved and unknowing as he did in this moment. "i- it was an unreasonable request! you-- it's beneath y-"
"that's acceptable. i will go with you, barbarian."
he was shocked as you accepted, though he wouldn't dare question your judgement. "katsuki." he blurted out. "please call me katsuki."
"i will marry you, if it's what you desire katsuki."
his eyes shot open. "yes. i-- it's what i'd like."
"you may call me [name] then." he clutched his heart, he wasn't sure if he was dreaming, but if he was he'd never want it to end.
"alright.. [name]." you smiled at the hesitance in his voice, and waved his worries off with a smile.
"shall we head out then?"
"we can't, the weather is horrible."
"what weather? it's sunny as normal." surely enough, as he turned around the weather had returned to a calm, warm day. the harsh winds and rains no longer present, replaced by the mundane weather.
"i-- i suppose you're correct." he gathered his supplies, even getting your permission to take the things he had on your alter, as he learned it was, back with you two. he slung his satchel behind his back and turned to you.
you held out your hand, and after he placed a chaste kiss on it, he carried you in his arms. the journey back was a blur to him, the burning in his feet nonexistent as he focused on the feeling of his skin on yours, the feeling of his hands on your body.
you arrived sooner then expected. internally, katsuki was excited. not only did he manage to revitalize a goddess, but he'd marry her. he was ecstatic not only at the prospect of beating this into the elders' faces, but to be yours for his eternity.
as he burst back into the conference room, the elders were shocked to see him back so soon. the smug expressions they would've gotten were wiped off the second they noticed you in his arms.
even they, from their distance at their cabinets, could sense the raw presence you had.
"prince bakugo, what is the meaning of this?"
"i've brought to you undeserving folks my wife."
the table of elders all collectively choked at the revelation. "wife? but we've yet to go through the proper trails and period of compatibility. that woman isn't even a barbarian."
"you're right, she's above all of you. she's a deity, and i've earned her hand in marriage. i want my wedding planned for next week, make it fit for a god."
"a deity you say?" the elder's felt like their eyes were about to burst out their sockets. "but--"
they heard nothing as he walked away from the room, you still in his arms. as you eyed the new, strange innovations and buildings around you, katsuki clutched you closer to his chest.
he set you onto a bed, the feeling of silk under your hands one that was foreign, as you hadn't been awakened for over a century.
he knelt in front of you, taking off one of his necklaces, and wordlessly asking for permission to set it on you.
you didn't know this, but this was sacred to the barbarians, presenting one's necklace to another was like talking a piece of your soul and entrusting them with it.
he looked at the sight of you, his ruby necklace with the teeth of the beasts he slayed contrasting severely to the gold you adorned, and he smiled.
you felt your heart go into a knot at the sight of him, he held your hand as he suddenly made a vow to you.
"i vow to be your greatest worshipper. even if i am not the last, i will set a standard that will long exceed my lifespan.
for you are my wife now, and i'll cherish you as long as i may live."
you smiled softly, reaching out to him to hold his other hand. "you've already become my most interesting worshipper, that i'm certain of."
as the two of you basked in each others presence, other gods were smiling upon you two as well.
unbeknownst to you, zeus, a god who had favored you since your birth, had set off the storm on bakugo, leading him to your alter.
not like it was what you were pondering at the moment anyway, as you caressed and embraced your soon to be husband, who you were already planning to turn into a god alongside you.
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shaisuki · 1 month ago
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❝ I TAKE IT BACK, IT'S THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT.ᐟ ❞
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FEATURING. ISAGI YOICHI, BACHIRA MEGURU, NAGI SEISHIRO, NIKO IKKI
NOTES. based on a requests from my previous blog. yandere blue lock boys reacting to their chubby s/o being happy despite being rejected by them and shit happened
CONTENT WARNINGS. implied noncon + dubcon + dark themes + yandere characters + obsessive themes + possessiveness + multiple orgasms + creampies + mating press + dacryphilia + nipple play + breeding kink + kidnapping.
SYNOPSIS. ahhh. soccer players and their indomitable egos. such a pain they can't even apologize to the love of their life after taking them away. their desired significant others whom they love to spoil so much to cover the wrongdoings. it's all good and forgotten when they make you cum over and over again.
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ISAGI YOICHI
“i hate you. did you know that.” you say to him out of the blue while you both laid in the king-sized bed located in the bedroom of his mansion. isagi perks up at your confession. sitting up while his big blue eyes gaze at your plush form. the dark silk night gown in the color of his eyes sensually covers your body. showing the bits of your body. the gown riding up exposing your creamy and big thighs. pressed together while you place your foot in his chest.
“i didn't know that, princess. care to tell me why?” you almost roll your eyes at his faux tone. sweet is yoichi to the eyes of mama and papa isagi but he's far from that to you. long are the days gone where sweet and adorable yo-chan is the apple of the eyes. calculating and can be a real jerk sometimes but treats you like the goddess you are. spoiled and pampered you are to the athlete. “you took me away from family and friends after you rejected me.” the striker raises a brow at you. a smile gracing in his lips at the memory.
it was a victory party after winning another match and the team decided to celebrate in a bar. there he spots a familiar face and body. dancing through the neon lights and the loud music. your plump body gracefully moving in the rhythm oblivious to the pair of blue eyes staring right at you. his eyes burning with rage and jealousy seeing you grinding with a guy that approached you. why wouldn't he? you were freshly rejected by him at your confession and now you're flirting, well grinding with a stranger you didn't know.
how fast can you move on and isagi started to regret it. he should have been the one to confess to you and maybe you can reject him but he won't allow it so he did what he can. took you away from that crowd. he was taught to get what he desired and you were the one who took his heart the same day and the very night he have seen you dancing with a stranger so he did what he thinks is right.
“isagi?” his name smoothly rolls from your tongue and isagi bites back a smile. it looks like you still didn't forget him. “oh hey. pretty fast you can move on after being rejected.” he commented and you scoffed at him. his gaze locked to your glossy lips and meeting your eyes filled with annoyance. “yep. can't stay sad after that. too many fish in the sea to stay on one.” you quipped at him and it ticked isagi to hear you say that.
“oh really?” a wolfish grin is painted on his face after hearing you say that. grabbing your wrist after almost leaving him making you yelp at the tight grip he holds you. “really.” you replied to him with much heat and his eyes seem to like glow despite the dizzying neon lights. pulling your wrist from his grip. isagi shakes his head at you. “you don't get to accept my rejection that fast, princess.” isagi challenges at you and you won't back out just because he's now mr. hotshot who rejected you. “make me.” and that was the last words you utter after him taking you outside and that was also the last time you've seen your friends. he took that as a challenge.
now, three years later. you're married to isagi yoichi, a pro-athlete with money overflowing flowing from his club. living with you in a multimillion dollar mansion he have brought to keep you secured and away from the predatory gaze of other men who wants the wife of isagi yoichi. mrs. isagi is untouchable and is believe to be the most spoiled wife out of wives of a pro-athlete at all time. that's what the media dubbed you as.
“aww—shit.” isagi groans as his pelvis slams to the back of your thighs. his cock being buried deeper inside your hole weeping with juices while his palms pressed in the sides of your waist. “i remember. can't help it, princess. it's either i'm going to make you mine or murder that motherfucker.” you badly want to tell isagi's parents how rough their son is to you. you can only squeal while being impaled by his huge cock.
“yoichi—ahhh” your toes curl. back arching as isagi continues to piston his length deep inside you. rapidly moving his hips. shaping your hole with the girth of his cock. “i know you hated me but it's better than to see in the arms of a another man that is me. that's why i always spoil you.”
“i-i don't need your money, yoichi.” you moaned out. your legs folded and almost touching your chest. your stomach are also in the same fate. your belly rolls stacked together. jiggling at the harsh impact of your husband's thrusts to your pussy that continued to gush with juices. squelching at the combined friction of isagi's cock repeatedly assaulting your abused pussy.
a whine ripped from your throat as your orgasm hits you. sending shock after shock of waves rippling throughout your body. isagi leans down to kiss the skin between the valley of your breasts before taking a nipple in his mouth. latching like a baby while his eyes never leaves your face morphing into a form of pleasure he's seen many times.
groaning he fills you up with his cum deep inside you. “too bad, princess. you're married to me. maybe, i'll breed this fat pussy of yours. get you pregnant. big and swollen for me.”
“you want that? of course, you'll want that. body perfect to give me babies.” isagi chuckles. you can't even make a coherent sentence from the way you babbled. drunk on his cock and he'll really do it. get you pregnant so you won't think about those things and you'll only think to care for his baby.
“you're squeezing me—hah, shit!” isagi curses out loud. dumping his load again to you and by the time he was done. he admires the piece of work he have made. his chubby wife, spread wide on his bed, cum leaking between your legs and you're filled to the brim.
BACHIRA MEGURU
bachira have this appetite that can't be quelled and he's more like a predator setting his eyes on a unsuspecting prey and then he's ready to sink his fangs through the flesh of his victim.
he was simply satiated when he first met you. no hunger in those honey-golden eyes of his nor the playful glint. it would be the last you're meeting him. bachira would have applauded you for your guts to confess to him out of all the players when girls and women alike avoided him. simply for being eccentric. he didn't mind it and when he's presented like this, you and your pretty eyes shimmering with anticipation for his answer, he wants to accept but that would be boring so a rejection followed through. he kind of feel of bad. sort of.
there wasn't an admiration nor desire he feels for you and besides you will move on and that's when he regrets it.
it was like you were reborn overnight. you confessed to him dressed like a church girl with lace and ribbons in a summer dress and here you are, a wild thing. dancing in the middle of a dance floor. in a tight top that spills the chub of your stomach, tits jiggling through the fabric, hair loose. your skirt too short that with the length you will be flashing everyone with your ass to see. you didn't even see him staring right at you. he should have gone for the kill, instead he was standing in the corner. a grin in his face and the glint in his eyes. something dangerous. something playful. he didn't pounced on you right away. where will be the thrill of it if he can't play.
"fuck-ahh" you moaned out your hand gripping the brown and yellow strands of his haiar. his face into one of a glee. licking his lips frrom the harsh thrusts of his hips to your plump ass. colliding with such impact as the same as his cock pound your hole.
you hold the sink like it was your lifeline. gripping it tightly to avoid yourself from falling in the club bathroom's floor while bachira scrambled your insides.
"f-fuck you—bachira." god. you were having difficulty from how you spoke with him fucking you so good. "i'm already doing it—fuck. you feel so good. you're milking me dry." he pantsou. holding the plumpness of your stomach that his nails dig and will leave bruises.
it's embarrassing how the sounds coming from your mouth are spilling continously. the sounds you didn't know you were capable of. it also didn't help that he's fucking you in the women's bathroom just because it was unoccupied in the moment and the fucker didn't even lock it. knowing that any given moment there will someone who'll walk in and see you both fucking like animals in heat. he's a freak. his tastes including fucking you publicly. you doubt that someone will dare to enter inside considering you were loudly moaning how good he feels inside you.
bachira meguru is a exhibitionist. you can see from the way he grins. having his reflection in the mirror and the way his eyes glint behind you.
"god, bachira. do you even like me?" you asked him. toes clenching. catching your breath cause every time he buries his dick deeper to you, the air in your lungs gets knocked out. the onslaught relentless.
"i won't be fucking you if i don't." he rasps out, his hands moving to squeeze the flesh of your round stomach to feel it move while his other hand is holding a tit to fondle. pinching your nipple that your back arches more from the stimulation. you only realized that he's deeply pressed against to you when you feel his lean body. his hot breath tickling your ears.
"sshh. don't speak." he said and that's what you did even you can still resist him and when you tumbled to your pleasure. bachira following through. you were utterly helpless and that's the time bachira came to terms with his newfound feelings.
NAGI SEISHIRO
"i'm not interested."
you already anticipated that answer amd you were prepared for it. you have been warned about it. nagi seishiro won't commit and put himself in a strenous relationship. a confession to nagi won't ened well. he's lazy. he can't even spare a glance to you even if you were a video game but you're not. nodding, you left shortly. accepting the face that nagi won't look at you the way you wanted him to be.
"cheers!" your girlfriends shouted despite the loud booming music of the club. the glass clinking to each other drowning in the sound of the other patrons who are also doing the same. you were glad for your girlfriends to drag you out after your confession instead of letting you rot in your place. "there's no need to be sad about that, girl. many fish to pick." extending her arm, hand holding a drink to show you the sea of bodies moving in the middle of the dancefloor. encouraging you to let go and forget about what happened. taking a gulp from your drink. it gave you the courage to be bold. the rejection might be good to you. realizing that if nagi accepted you, you will be stuck in a loveless and effortless relationship to a man who finds everthing a drag. nagi can't even lift a finger to take care of himself how would it be different to you. that was a bullet you dodged there.
and that was a joke. you took that back and you find yourself again to him. trapped in the gray-colored eyes of his. large irises are bigger from they way he usually looks at you. you believed it was even a enthusiasm in those eyes of his right now looking at you.
"nagi?" you call to him mere seconds after accidentally bumping to him. you didn't expect that he would be a club out of all places and you see his teammates behind him. he was probably got dragged out the same way as your girlfriends did to you. you paid him no mind and began to make way back at your girlfriends. before you could turn around you were stopped by a large hand holding your round shoulder. his hand cold against the warmth of the exposed skin of your shoulder.
you shot a look at him. holding his wrist to remove his hand from your shoulder. that when you're abou tto reach the success of unlatching his hold to you. he placed his other hand. placing them firmly to your shoulder and that's when you lost it.
"n-nagi! l—" you weren't given the chance to continue to speak when a pair of lips connected to your own. everything around you to spin and you blame the alcohol for it. you shaked your head to clear your thoughts and put them in order. you were stunned. confused for a bit before turning into one of an anger. "let go of me, nagi!" you fumed. punching his chest with closed fists which had put no damage on him and again but his quick reflexes catch the incoming punch you were about to throw again. he holds your wrist before planting a another kiss on you. "mmmph!" is the sound you made after that and you were speechless. intoxicated with nagi's kisses to your lips.
the color of your irises meets gray-ones when you opened them. nagi have taken you home with him and your back hits the softness of the mattress of his bed. if he wasn't too impatient and annoyed with your clothes obstructing your body from him, it should still be on one piece but the desperation and need left you naked and bare for him. nagi was also in a rush. clumsily removing his shirt. showing the muscles he gained from being a pro-soccer player. nagi almost dwarfs you and wasted no time sinking his cock to your hole.
a pained gasp coming from you upon his large cock entered you. nagi didn't even bother to stretch you and only rubbed your slit to get it wet and then without a second thought plunging his cock deep inside you. the pain only lasted for a second before the pleasure took over.
"so soft." nagi huffs. burying his face between your breasts. nuzzling at the skin and placing sloppy kisses on them. letting out a hum of satisfaction and growls while his hips move in a manner that left you to see white and becoming a moaning mess underneath him. you can't move. the reason being crushed by nagi's weight confident that you can take him with your plump stature and that you can only wrapped your chunky legs behind him. just above his buttocks.
it was too much of a hassle.
you weren't even worth of the effort and when he sees you dancing without a care, he got drawn. it was like a unknown force pulling him to get close to you. the desire to be near you. when he forced you to be with him. all he can see is the roundness of your face. brows furrowing in annoyance and your lips in a pout. moving and saying something about him not wanting you and toying with your feelings. that's the reason he can't date anyone. they would be too much for him and he would be too nonchalant to care about it. any kinds of intimacy is he can't give to someone but to you he can try. and that way is to fuck senselessly that you won't bother to find someone who is not him. nagi would simply make you his. something he owned. something he would treasure and keep.
he simly can't get of your softness. he feels you over and over with his hands. caressing and squeezing every flesh he can touch.
that when he's already pumped you full of his cum. he finds it surprsing that he can still go on and that's when nagi starts to slowly put efforts in things if he wanted to keep you and it was worth it. he can even take you from the people you used to love and your eyes will only be for him.
NIKO IKKI
he got twisted so much with the media that he doesn't even see the real beauty of yours after he rejected you. consumed by the beauty standards and imagines himself with someone who's the same as the characters in his anime. the same slender, busty girls that would come up to him and comfort him that he's the best unlike you the very opposite of them.
niko regretted it until the very end why he rejected and seeing you so happy without him. that's why he reasoned and made efforts to win you back and you were stubborn as you were pretty and you left him no choice but to take you.
you find him crying at top of you. apologizing that he have to do this and niko's pretty teal eyes are glossed with tears. you didn't know that his eyes were the prettiest shade of teal until he reveals it to you and from your position you can see his eyes not covered by his hair. it's the first time you have seen and it was so fucked up to wake up at his bed.
you know what to do at situations like this. struggling will trigger him to keep you locked up and coddling him will just keep you attached to him but was that the point of your confession to him? you wanted niko and the rejection doesn't take good in your tongue. it's a embarrassment and he's on yours again. wanting you. you still have some pride left on yourself to throw back yourself at niko who have thrown you away.
he look so pathetic above you. crying his eyes out. tears dripping and plopping down in your skin. “oh, niko.” you reached out to him. pulling him to yours and letting him cry out to your body. you cooed and hums at him softly. threading your fingers over the strands of his ink-colored fluffy hair. “i'm sorry.” you hear mutter to your skin. “it's okay.” your voice soft and you were surprised at the tenderness of your voice at him when you're supposedly to be angry at him. grabbing his cheek that is pressed to your stomach and making him look at you.
“it's fine. 's fine, niko.” you repeatedly say to him and niko melts at your voice. soothing his broken heart when he rejected you and you're being this good at him.
leaning down to meet his face, you pressed a small kiss to his lips. a little longer than you would have liked before pulling and watch niko's surprised face and then he grabs your face for him to kiss and then again and again until you two were both moaning from each other's feeling of lips.
“niko, you're being t-too rough.” you stutter. holding his shoulders to steady yourself while you bounced on his dick. eyes fluttering from the sensation of his cock repeatedly rubbing against your velvety walls making you clench around him.
the man below doesn't say anything. only a grunt all is he can muster. taking control over your body. holding your plump waist while he thrusts his cock upwards. assaulting your fat cunt with such desperation. afraid that you'll disappear on him. your back arches, making you throw your head back when his cock nudged a special spot deep inside you. noticing the change, niko continued to hit that and turned you into one of a uncontrollable moaning mess. your body taking autopilot in bouncing on his cock.
he takes a nipple to his mouth. your breasts bouncing in front of him and moaned at the taste of tit in his mouth. sucking on it and rolling his tongue around it. almost biting it.
“niko! fuck! i'm going to cum!” you cried out. it was too good. too good that you can't take it anymore. niko sped up his thrusts cause he's close too and it's being painfully good not to bust inside you cause he's been dreaming of it. he made sure that his cock is buried deep inside you before releasing his load. spilling his cum deep inside you. warming your insides with the thick goodness he have that triggers you also to cum. releasing the clear liquid, spraying it on niko's lap which he didn't mind.
“you're going to be with me?” he asks. niko's stare intensifying at you. “yeah.” you say before crashing your lips into his.
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monstersflashlight · 4 months ago
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The hydra's pet (Day 6/8 of 10k follower's event)
Fem!Hydra x gn!reader || oral sex, overstimulation, inapropiate use of human pet, dub-con, degradation (lowkey)
It all started with a bad idea, like every other sexual encounter you had before her.
As the king’s guard, you are obligated to follow his rules and commands, you don’t like it most of the time, but you can’t argue with him either. So when he asks you to chase a hydra and bring back at least two of its heads, you can’t do shit but comply.
You get to cut two of her heads before she overpowers you, making you submit under her paw as she laughs maniacally over you. You are scared for your life, but she doesn’t end you. She grabs you and flies away. She brings you to a big cave, ornamented with all kinds of treasures and fancy silks. She tells you she’s going to keep you, you are her new human pet.
And you hate it.
But after that, you start to like it. You start to like her. It comes to you gradually. At first, the danger she represents scares you, but deep down you know is more than that. Deep down you know the spike of anxiety inside of you is not because of fear, but because of arousal. She’s so big and so imposing, and you can’t ignore how her pussy glistens when she takes flight over you. You are a bit obsessed with her. And when you touch yourself at night… You can’t stop yourself from thinking about her, screaming “mistress” as you come.
The next morning she has a knowing smirk on her faces, all five of them predatory as you approach. “Come here, pet.” She pats the ground next to her huge body and you can’t do nothing but to comply.
“Yes,” you agree as you approach slowly, not knowing what’s going to happen.
Her smiles get even more dangerous, a spike of anxiety growing inside of you when she says: “Yes, what? You didn’t doubt what to call me when you touched yourself last night, pet. Don’t be shy now.” You blush hard knowing she was listening, she was probably looking, you don’t know if she can see in the dark, but it could be. She could have been watching… Why does that make you hot?
“Ye- yes, mistress,” you finally say, heat pooling in your lower abdomen.
“That’s a good little pet.” She literally pats your head as she manhandles (woman-handles? hydra-handles?) your body and brings it close to one of her heads.
You know better than to struggle, but to be honest, you wouldn’t want to struggle either way. You know what that is about, you know how it’s going to end… With you making a mess out of you as she laughs cruelly, you can picture it perfectly. It doesn’t matter that’s the first time she tries something with you, you know without a doubt that you are going to get hooked to the feel of her.
She makes you come in less than five minutes, but she doesn’t stop there. She makes fun of how pathetic and eager to cum you are. How cutely your hole twitches when she pushes her long tongue inside, stretching you and pinching your abdomen with her teeth while doing it. The danger shouldn’t be a turn on, but it is, good goddess it is.
She tongue-fucks you with each one of her heads, her tongue impossibly deep every single time, and your body oversensitive after more than one orgasm. It’s the filthiest and most amazing feeling you’ve ever felt. And then she uses more than one head at the same time, tongues intertwining inside of your hole as you scream and cry out. She just laughs it off, and keeps making fun out of your needy human body.
And you love it. You are eager for it. It makes you cum even harder.
And it only grows from there. One day, when she’s bored, she uses your body as her personal grinder. All your body. Her pussy is giant and enticing, and you could stare at it for hours, so similar to a human one but so very big. You are amazed by it, by her in all her glory. She gets wet so easily, you rub her clit with both your hands and it’s almost instant. She always growls at you and orders you around, but in that moment… You are the one with the power to make a mess out of her.
And you love it. You love the power trip that brings you, you love how wet she gets, how loud.
You love being able to bring her to a babbling mess, her giant body squirming as she grabs you by the waist and uses you to grind against her pussy. Your whole body gets wet and sticky, and you are enamored by the feel of it. She comes messily, drenching you in her juices, just to lick you clean after, making you come at least twice before helping you back into clothes.
It’s just like that when you realize. You don’t only love the feel of her, the exhilarating feeling of her giant body against yours, her long tongues inside your needy hole...
You love her.
Some people would call you out and say you have Stockholm syndrome, but you know better than to believe that. That syndrome is, after all, just the product of misogyny and stupid men. You and her, on the other hand…
Are just perfect for each other.
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ddodol · 2 months ago
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acting up — j.sc
one shot ⭑.ᐟ synopsis ⭑.ᐟ date nights with sungchan are always fun when there's a bit of mischief. content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, bf!sungchan, brat fem!reader, petnames, spanking, overstimulation, creampie, slight exhibitionism mentions, sungchan is a bit mean but we all love that for him <3. word count⭑.ᐟ 3.7k+
a/n; belated happy birthday sungchan
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you were feeling particularly evil tonight.
you and sungchan agreed on a little date, nothing too fancy but you decided that you wanted to dress up. you giggle as you twirl around in front of your mirror, satisfied with the way the tight dress hugged your body. sungchan would love seeing you like this, perhaps a bit too much.
it didn’t take long for sungchan to knock at your door, the poor boy still clueless about the thoughts running through your pretty little head. you try to maintain the mischievous grin you have on your face, fixing up your make up one last time before running to the front door. you take a deep breath, already prepared to act all innocent.
as soon as the door opened, sungchan only had a second to react, face already dropping at the mere sight of you. the white silk dress hugged your curves in all the right places. it barely covered anything— not your chest nor your back. you were all exposed for him.
sungchan swallowed thickly, taking you all in. you were just too inviting that he’s starting to think that the dinner date was just a ruse.
”fuck,” he whispered, hand gripping tightly on the pretty bouquet he took the time choosing.
you smile at him, happily taking the bouquet from his hands before he snaps them in half. “wanna come in for a bit? i’m still not done getting ready.” that was funny because sungchan already thought you were a fucking goddess.
like you predicted, sungchan hovered around you, watching you intently as you brush absolutely nothing on your face. you were trying so hard not to laugh, shoulders trembling slightly as you apply lip gloss for the second time. you could see sungchan through your mirror, eyes fixated on your ass.
nothing could go wrong with a little show, right?
”oh, fuck,” you mutter softly, accidentally dropping your lipstick on the ground. it didn’t drop too far so all you had to do was bend over and pick it up, it was so simple. you could hear sungchan groaning from behind you, his pretty face all troubled as he watched your every move.
satisfied and with your lipstick in hand, you continue with your routine. you were so sure sungchan would be patient throughout your dinner date, and that you’d get the best night of your life later. though that didn’t mean sungchan would share the same sentiment.
”princess, is it fun?” you jump up when you heard sungchan’s voice from behind you, body already trembling in response. oh, you wanted him so bad. he looked gorgeous tonight with his hair slicked back; you just wanted to sit on his lap and mess it all up.
sungchan was right behind you, eyeing you through the mirror. you smelled so sweet and tempting, your scent filling his senses as he pressed you against the bathroom counter. sungchan let out a small groan, bulge pressing against your plush ass.
”is fucking with me that fun, baby?” you gasp softly, feeling sungchan’s warm hands on your waist. he looked at you through the mirror, jaws clenching as he leaned down to whisper to your ear. “do you want to get fucked that badly?” you shuddered, legs already trembling at how good he sounded when he’s all pissed.
you tried to feign innocence, smiling at him, “what do you mean?”
you were so sure sungchan snapped right then and there. he grabbed your ass, slipping his hands underneath the little dress you had on. the more he moved his fingers around your skin the more he noticed that something was missing, he looked down, pushing your dress up to see that you weren’t wearing panties.
you bite your lip at the prolonged silence, already feeling like you were in danger. “c-channie?”
sungchan frowns at you, bringing his hand up before landing it on your ass, the loud slap echoing throughout your bathroom. you managed to catch yourself in time, covering your mouth before you cried out.
”channie, wait!”
he shakes his head, already in the process of unbuckling his belt. “baby, if you’re gonna act up like this, you should deal with the consequences,” you bite your lip, feeling his heavy, throbbing cock against your ass.
you didn’t want to fight back, already just as needy even though you were the one that did the teasing. sungchan seems to have caught on to this though, deciding that he’d take his time for you— it’s only fair after all. “princess,” he whispered, voice all gentle again.
”y-yeah?” you whimper out pathetically, huge eyes staring at him in anticipation.
“your tits are spilling out of your dress, did you plan on going out like this?” you gasp softly, feeling his hands pressing on your breasts, not taking much for them to pop out of your dress. sungchan chuckles, licking his lips as you moan over him fondling your tits.
”feeling good already?” he asked teasingly, pulling on your nipples, “that’s not good, this is meant to be punishment.” you cry out, nipples already feeling sore from having them pulled and squeezed roughly. sungchan slapped them lightly, smiling at how they’d bounce around. you choked out a cry, leaning forward as your legs were about to give in.
sungchan leaned against your neck, leaving a small kiss, “what if i just took you here? it’ll be easier to clean up, right? it'll be better than fucking you at the restaurant, no?” you shuddered, body already heating up at the mere thought.
“please,” you whined, pushing your dress up even more to reveal your ass properly.
he smiled deviously, “fuck yourself on me, princess.”
you stared at sungchan through the mirror, head feeling light at the smile on his face. sungchan was always so good to you, prioritizing your needs over his and that also applied to the bedroom. you should know better than to piss him off but you just can’t help it, he always reacts so well.
you’ve only ever pissed sungchan off once before, unintentionally, and you found yourself pinned against a wall at some public bathroom, completely overstimulated and sensitive as he thrusted you onto his cock. you always think back to that moment, wondering what else would mess him up enough to do that to you again.
now that you’ve had your answer, you couldn’t stop trembling in excitement, walls already clenching as you push your ass against his cock. “channie,” you whine, gasping softly when you felt his hand grabbing your ass. sungchan spanked your ass once more, making you cry out weakly.
”if you’re good, i’ll fuck you as much as you want later.” you bit your lip, shaky hand reaching back to hold his cock, guiding it against your entrance. you let out a purr, loving how stretched you were feeling, walls fluttering around sungchan’s cock.
“god, so tight, princess,” sungchan groaned, gripping on your ass as you slowly sink yourself against his cock. he spread your cheeks apart, drawing out a moan as you swallow him inside.
you began to move slowly, moans dragging out with each movement. fucking yourself on sungchan made your head spin, ass bouncing against his hips. he stood still, chuckling at how you moved clumsily on his cock.
“you know that’s not how i fuck you, princess. fuck me like you mean it,” he leaned in to whisper against your ear, leaving you whimpering at how deep he was reaching in that position.
”i can’t do it, sungchan,” you whined, “i want it deeper!”
sungchan laughs at your pathetic whining, giving your ass a small slap, “try harder, princess.” you cried out, legs trembling as you continued to move your hips clumsily. it wasn't the ideal position to be fucking yourself on his cock, not when you wanted him deeper.
“sungchan, please,” you whined once more, walls fluttering around his cock in a last ditch effort to convince him.
sungchan leaned in, pressing your body down the counter and caging you in between his arms. “move and be a good girl for me,” you whimpered when he growled against your ear, eliciting a small chuckle from him when your walls clenched.
“move for me, baby. show me how much you want it,” he whispered, urging you even more as he nibbled on your ear.
you tried your best, whimpering with every thrust. there wasn’t much you could do except grind on his cock now that sungchan left no space between the two of you.
your walls kept clenching down on him, finding a way to pleasure yourself without having to move. you rolled your hips against his, moaning softly as your arousal pooled in your stomach. you could still feel him deep inside, whimpering at how his tip kept rubbing on your sweet spots whenever you’d grind down on him.
”please, please, please—” you kept murmuring over and over, voice getting higher and whinier as you trembled. soon enough, you came on his cock, strangling out a quiet cry as you pressed your body against the counter.
“fuck, are you serious?” sungchan mumbled, growling against your ear when your walls clenched down on him. “did you just cum, princess?” you rested your head against the counter, shoulders heaving as you quiver from your climax. it wasn’t exactly a satisfying release but it was all you could manage.
sungchan was amused for a split second but he immediately masked it with a stern expression. ”you’d really rather cum like this instead of admitting that you did something bad?” he whispered against your ear before pressing hot kisses down your neck. you felt your body heating up once more, whining as you grind your hips on his.
”i didn’t,” you whined, “i didn’t do anything bad. you like it anyway.” sungchan couldn’t help but laugh, his touch finally becoming gentler. he massaged your ass, soothing the red marks he left on you earlier.
”i know, i love it a lot,” he smiled, kissing your jaw affectionately. no matter how much you acted up, sungchan was always so forgiving of you and you were sure tonight wouldn’t be any different. “that dinner date’s still on the table though, i went through hell to get that reservation.” you chuckled weakly, turning your head to glance at him.
he leaned back to pull his cock out slowly, leaving you to think that you two were done for now. sungchan stared down at where you two were connected, watching his cock slip out of you, his length completely soaked in your juices.
you unwittingly pushed yourself off the counter, fixing your dress up as he pulled out. you could feel his tip almost slipping out, only to be taken by surprise when he plunged deep inside without warning. a choked cry left your swollen lips, legs trembling from the sudden stimulation. you almost came. one thrust from sungchan almost made you came and it drove you crazy.
”sungchan, baby, please,” you whimpered, gripping on the edge of the counter as you looked at him through the mirror. you were a complete mess at this point, your perfect appearance from earlier now flushed and smudged.
sungchan tutted at your complaints, pulling out once more before slamming back inside, pushing you forward at the impact. he could feel your walls convulsing around his cock, grinning at how easy it was to please you. he repeated the motion a few more times until you were trembling uncontrollably, smiling in satisfaction.
”you know, princess,” he leaned in, pushing deep inside you as he does, “i know exactly what you’re trying to do.” you shuddered, biting back your noises as he thrusted shallowly, penetrating your deepest walls. sungchan catching on only meant that it’s going to be more torturous for you.
”come on, i wanna see how ruined i could get you before our date,” sungchan smiled at you, eyes glinting deviously as he stared back at your reflection. you gasped softly, already bracing yourself for what’s next.
”w-wait! we only have thirty minutes left! the drive is—” you almost bit your tongue from how hard he pounded into you. your body was pressed against the now warm marble counter, arousal dripping down your leg.
the sound of wet noises and skin slapping echoed in your bathroom, slowly driving you to the brink of insanity. “s-sungchan! i’m sorry! i wasn’t— i just wanted to mess with you!” you rambled on, breathing heavily.
sungchan chuckled, tongue poking his cheek as he watched your ruined reflection. he reached forward to hold your face still as he continued his brutal pace. forced you to look at yourself in the mirror, whimpering as your walls clenched down on him.
“you look so pretty when you’re all flushed like this,” he smiled, pressing soft kisses on your shoulder. ”give me more, princess. i know you can make prettier noises than this.”
you let out a yelp when he spanked your ass once again, mind going blank when you felt his cock kissing your deepest spot. “let go, princess— give me what i want,” sungchan whispered, his deep voice echoing in your spinning mind.
your legs were trembling, feet barely touching the ground as sungchan kept pounding into you, driving you up the counter with each frantic thrust. you cried his name out loud, whimpering apologies as he continued to spank your ass.
”that’s it, baby. i got you,” sungchan cooed, smiling against your skin. he placed soft kisses all over your shoulder, a huge contrast to the way he was fucking you. he held your waist, keeping you up while his other hand snaked up to play with your tits.
the sound of your moans echoed throughout the bathroom. the addicting noises you were making was slowly getting to him, sungchan’s soft features contorting in pleasure as you clenched down on his throbbing length. he could tell that you were close with the way your body was tensing up and from your ragged breathing, your sweet voice was also starting to get whinier— every single detail about you was filling up his senses and it drove him insane.
”sungchan, i’m so close. fuck— please, channie,” you whimpered, afraid that he’d impulsively deny you your orgasm considering how differently he was acting all night.
he pressed kisses down your nape, hands gently massaging your waist as he plunged deep inside, hot breath fanning over your skin. “don’t worry, just trust me and let go, princess.”
you closed your eyes shut, body tensing up as your orgasm washed over you in waves, walls spasming around his cock. sungchan held you close, thrusting gently as you rode out your high. he winced at how tight you were, pressing his body on top of yours as you breathed softly.
”just a bit more, okay?” sungchan panted, hips starting to move once more. you whined loudly, clawing on his hand as he cupped your tits, fondling them gently. he moaned against your ear, mumbling apologies when you begin to cry out from oversensitivity.
”sungchan,” you cried, feeling like an overstimulated mess. sungchan gripped on your thigh, lifting it up against the edge of the counter as he continued to pound into you.
he kept pressing soft kisses against your neck, whispering praises at how good you were for him, all for him— his words always made you feel like a puddle, laying your body against the counter and taking it all to satisfy him. “that’s it, princess. you feel so fucking good right now,” he breathed out, hips stuttering from how close he was.
sungchan held you even tighter, leaving marks on your skin. “i’m close, princess,” he groaned, “take it all, yeah? every single drop, like the good girl you are.”
you whimpered in response, head spinning from oversensitivity, slick walls milking his cock with each thrust, curses kept rolling off his tongue. he buried his face against your neck, taking a deep breath of your sweet perfume as he thrusted deep inside one last time. sungchan shot out thick ropes of his cum, coating your walls as he crashed down on your back.
the two of you were shuddering from your release, panting heavily. sungchan kissed your skin languidly, dragging his plump lips around. he whispered quiet praises against your skin, smiling at the goosebumps that popped up right after.
”you’re so adorable,” he mumbled, patting your head fondly. sungchan pulled away from you, helping you get up from the counter.
you could barely stand, let alone walk, shooting a pitiful glance at sungchan. he just chuckled, continuing to help you fix up your dress. satisfied, he smiled at your reflection through the mirror, “there we go.”
sungchan held your waist, pulling you close, “we have time left, right?” he teasingly drew small circles on your back, enjoying the way you’d flinch and try to squirm away from his grasp.
”i can’t go out like this, channie,” you admitted, pouting at him. before you even knew it, sungchan had guided you outside, ignoring your protests as he helped you get settled inside his car. once he got inside, he smiled at you, one filled with mischief.
”you wanted to act up before our date, i’m just giving you what you would've gotten.” you frowned at him, watching as he happily started the engine.
this date was about to be uncomfortable— his cum still inside you, no panties, legs weak and skin flushed. sungchan glanced at you, chuckling at your state.
he leaned in for a brief second, brushing a small kiss against your cheek. “i keep telling you, princess— if you’re good, i’ll treat you well.”
you pouted, crossing your arms as you looked out the window. you knew these were the consequences of your own actions but you hated how things didn't go as you planned. you were fully prepared to just call it and lay down on your bed, but this was a date that you also looked forward to having.
sungchan couldn’t help but laugh at how you were sulking on the side, pulling up soon as you arrived at your destination. you were relieved to see that there weren’t much people tonight, legs still feeling like jelly, trembling even while you sat down.
like the gentleman he always is, sungchan opened the car door for you, holding out a hand for you to hold on to. you happily took his hand, gripping on it to support yourself up. he smiled, quickly wrapping an arm around you and sneaking a small kiss on your temple.
his lips lingered on your skin for some time before slowly trailing down to graze your red ears, “i promise you we’ll be quick this time.”
you snapped your head towards him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed when you got what he was implying. sungchan just smiled, giving your ass a quick squeeze before leading you towards the bathroom.
needless to say, you now know better than to intentionally mess with sungchan— not when he made you sit down for your dinner date like normal, as if his cum wasn’t dripping down your legs as you dined.
you glanced at him curiously, his lips were swollen and red with your lipstick staining it. sungchan's skin was glowing radiantly, as if he was announcing your little bathroom affair from earlier to everyone in the room. you cleared your throat, embarrassment washing over you.
he noticed the look on your face, grinning mischievously. “what? got something on my face?” you rolled your eyes, prompting a small bout of laughter from him. he looked over your features once more, eyes filled with fondness as he settled down.
”i feel like i haven’t said it enough but i think you look absolutely breathtaking tonight.” you blushed at the compliment, putting all your focus on the plate in front of you because of how flustered you were feeling.
”don’t worry, i know. i could tell from all of that,” you coughed softly, almost choking on your food as sungchan laughed once again.
having his eyes on you, especially after being intimate, always made you shy. sungchan has always been expressive, you could tell what he’s thinking even if he doesn’t vocalize it— which he still does anyway just to rub it in.
sungchan chuckled again, taking in your figure in that pretty silk dress you wore for him. it was regrettable that he couldn’t help himself from leaving marks all over your shoulders and back, since now you were all covered up with his white blazer. he tilted his head, trying to take a peek at the small red mark he left on the side of your neck, smiling mischievously at how pretty it looked on you.
”sungchan,” you raised a brow, staring at him weirdly. he just smiled sheepishly before sitting up straight.
it was silent for a few minutes, sungchan let you finish your food before speaking up once again. as soon as you set your utensils down, he leaned in, “i wonder if people are staring at me or if it’s because of that mark i just left on your neck.”
you quickly covered yourself up with his blazer, staring back at him wide wide eyes and flushed cheeks. sungchan laughed softly, reaching out to hold your hand.
”that’s not fair, princess,” he smiled teasingly, bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles, “if you keep acting this adorable, i’d want to punish you even more like earlier.”
you shuddered, shaking your head frantically.
an impulsive little prank shouldn’t become your norm, you refused to. sungchan just chuckles against your hand, pressing a soft kiss on your wrist. “mm, maybe not, then,” he smiles at you, rubbing his swollen lips against your skin.
”you know you’re the one that set this kind of mood up for tonight, right?” you pouted. you knew he was right, and that annoyed you. it wasn’t like you regretted doing what you did— in fact, you were glad you did, enjoying the reaction you managed to draw out of him.
you traced small circles on his hand, glancing at him as an idea formulated in your pretty little head. sungchan seems to have caught on as well, grinning widely as he waited for you to speak.
"channie," you purred, "wanna grab the tab and just get out of here?"
sungchan laughs at your proposal, bringing your hand up to press another kiss on it, "i thought you'd make me wait another hour, princess."
"and maybe, just maybe— you can have what you had in mind earlier, yeah? before i ruined it," he suggests, eyes filled with mischief as shivers ran down your spine.
you knew tonight wasn't going to be easy for your poor body, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
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taintandviolent · 9 months ago
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Devil's Favours - James March x Reader
summary & wordcount: 4.9K! originally chosen as the party favour for James' Devil's Night celebration, reader is quickly snatched away by James March, who would rather have his own fun with her than let the others kill her.
w a r n i n g s: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! dark fic, dub-con, slight non-con, conflicted reader, sexual confusion, mild gore & blood, graphic descriptions, violence, aggression, bodily fluids, mentions of other real serial killers, smut, rough sex,overstimulation, body worship (reader with greek goddess body type), murder, reader death.
a/n: sorry for this, I'm mentally unwell. not beta read, so if it's horrid and clunky, I'm sorry!!! also, I think this is the last taglist I'll be doing, RIP. It's just such a pain in the rear end, and half the time, it doesn't even work.
full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! /
After a long day of travelling, sleep was the only thing on your mind. That said, you were in desperate need of a bath, something relaxing. This was, afterall, a vacation. You twisted the ceramic knob on the hot water, and stuck your hand under it. With a hiss, you withdrew your hand – usually, water took a minute to reach temperature. This one? Scalding hot within a few seconds. Dangerously so. You twisted the knob on the cold side, evening them out until they’d reached a less skin-melting combination, and shed your clothes. You’d only been in there for thirty minutes or so before someone began rapping their knuckles against your door. Persistently. Very persistently.
“Just a minute!” you called from the bathroom, hoping your voice travelled. You reached for one of the towels – meticulously embroidered with the hotel’s logo – and wrapped it hurriedly around your torso. “Hang on!” 
Quickly rummaging around in your suitcase and swearing under your breath that you had packed more, you searched for something to wear. Feeling pressured and running out of time, you settled on a cream coloured silk slip. Hardly modest with your plenteous figure, but the knocking continued and that seemed more important than decency. You hurried to the door, yanking it open with an air of annoyance. The vexation melted away when you were met with a man who looked more like he belonged on a silver screen than he did standing in front of you.
“Good evening.” He said, dipping his head down in a courteous display.
“…Can I help you?”
His lips stayed together, but curved into a subtle smirk. Though it was an unintentional pick; he’d chosen well; your delectable form was as if it was carved by Gods themselves. The look in your eyes told him that you were so alive, so vivacious that any bloodshed that would happen would be akin to art. His eyes were immediately lost on you, exploring your body and face with a fervid fascination. Feeling exposed, you pulled at the silken straps, bringing the neckline of the nightgown higher up on your body. Your cleavage protested, the fabric puckering across the voluminosity of your breasts. 
All this time, he’d been silent, and you arched an expectant brow, wondering just what it was that you were to help him with. This man was… peculiar. From his fancy dressage to the articulate, over-pronounced way he spoke, his idiosyncrasies both alarmed and fascinated you. 
“Indeed,” he affirmed. He’d made his decision; you were the one for the night. And he’d have you, whether you came willingly or not.
“My name is James March — I’m the owner of this impressive hotel in which you now stand.” He paused, expectantly as if that was enough for you to throw your arms up and consent to whatever he was asking. When you didn’t, he added: “I need you to come with me. Urgently.”
You squinted, scanning his motivations. A warm, gentle smile stretched across his lips, framed by his pencil thin mustache. His hand rose, fingers uncurling in front of you. There was something unnervingly come-hither about his gaze. Would he have introduced himself with malicious intentions? Surely not — that could lead to identifying him later on. But he could’ve given you a fake name, perhaps…
Unable to resist his passé seduction and against (likely) better judgement, your hand floated up into his, resting delicately against his palm. His fingers closed around yours, lingering a moment before guiding you out of your room, allowing the heavy door to swing shut behind you. He began leading you briskly down the hallway.
“I forgot my key, wait I –” 
“Worry not, my dear. We’ll have another made for you, should you need it.” 
Should I need it? You thought. Why wouldn’t I need it? Of course I’ll need my key, I’m walking down the hallway in nothing but a nightgown. 
You trodded barefoot down the halls, listening to the sounds as you passed them. The hotel, you noticed, creaked and breathed with a life of its own. Whether the rooms were occupied wasn’t known, but they sounded as if they were.  
As soon as you two got to a door, only a few down from your own, he reached for the handle and instantly, as soon as he did; something felt wrong. Something felt… sinister and the feeling took over like a gelatinous sludge. You tried to yank your hand away but James sternly jerked you the opposite way — back towards him. With a throaty growl, he wrapped both arms around your torso, holding you fast in a steel grip so that try as you might, you couldn’t dislodge yourself from his grasp. His strength proved too much for your feeble, sleepy muscles.
After shouldering the door open, James carried you inside. In a moment of panicked clarity, you tried to peek around and identify anything you could. The stern way that his hand was plastered on your forehead, holding it against his shoulder, you could really only see the ornate ceiling above you.
You took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that burned at the corners of your eyes. This was it. You’d gone this far in life without being mugged, raped, or killed… today was the day it would change. Your track record would end. Abruptly. Terrifyingly. Your chest shuddered with an uneven, hysterical breath. At least he was handsome. No, shut up. That’s not the kind of thought you want to be thinking. 
Suddenly, your body dropped forward and you were spun around harshly, his grip still tight on the fleshy meat of your arms. Then, as though he was a lover and not your soon-to-be-murderer, he eased your back against a wooden chair with one hand, delicately, suddenly concerned with hurting you, like you were some kind of easily-bruised fruit.
“Good girl, sit there.”
At his praising words, your core twinged, tightening. No, no. Stop it. Clenching your teeth, you quashed the thought before it went any further.
His right hand snatched something from a nearby table before holding it proudly, stretching it out for you to see; rope. Unconsciously, your head began shaking back and forth. As the realisation sunk in, your heart rate picked up, thudding against your ribcage.
“N-no, no… no please.”
With the rope still in hand, James got to one knee in a familiar pose. His lightless eyes floated up to yours, staring into them deeply. Now in front of you, his cock twitched within his trousers, a carnal instinct tugging like an incessant child. He brushed the pads of his fingers along the smooth curves of your knees, your calves, your ankles… 
Damn. You – obviously – were a woman with needs, so his feather-light touch awoke something deep within your core again. This time though, it didn’t take you reversing the arousal. The shiny tip of his shoe knocked your feet apart, lining them up with the legs of the chair. She clenched harder.
“What are you doing?” You asked, tensely. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He paused to answer, straightening up. “Securing you, my dear. A struggle is inevitable.”
“What!? Inevitable for what?!”
He didn’t answer. Hastily working, his large but nimble hands wrapped the rope around the smallest part of your ankles, knotting the rope against the chair. Your wrists came next, and those were tied much tighter; the fibres of the rope ground against your soft skin, already causing a burning friction.
With a sudden, powerful pull at the bindings, testing their security, James was finished. He was confident in his knotting, you wouldn’t get away. Humming to himself, he dragged the chair through an archway, into another, much larger room. You were facing a table – it was ornately set with a large contraption in the middle. You recognised it as an absinthe fountain, the bright green liquid in the container seemed to glow. You didn’t want to be a part of whatever this was, even as attractive as that man was.
“Please,” you begged. “Please, I just… I want to go back to my room. Let me go.”
“Let you go?” James echoed in a mockingly high tone. He seemed offended that you’d even desire such a thing. It was a pleasure — a privilege — to be invited to his dinners. “No…. You’re staying with me. Right here.”
He pat your thigh  before moving to the head of the table. For the first time since you’d been brought in, you took a moment to look around, to take in your surroundings instead of him. Immediately, you whimpered in disbelief — met with such a visual that you almost immediately thought you were hallucinating. You blinked away the tears and sniffed, pressing your lips tightly together. 
It was truly bone-chilling to see all of the worst eyes on you. The eyes that had seen the most foul crimes and atrocities in human history were now looking at you; the bound beauty with her sweat-soaked strands of hair stuck to your forehead and fear in your eyes. John Wayne Gacy, Richard Ramirez, Jeffrey Dahmer….
“She’s shakin’ like a god damn leaf!” Aileen Wuornos howled, before finishing off the rest of her beer. She slammed it on the table, the clatter made you jump. She doesn’t want me, you thought. I’m not her enemy. Still, you knew that you’d been sat at a table full of people — true monsters — who even if they didn’t want to kill you, they’d take great pleasure in watching you writhe in agony as the others stole your last breath from your lungs.
Though they were all equally terrifying, you were most horrified by Richard. He sat directly next to James, picking absently at his nails. His sunken, snake eyes followed every move you made; watching you with a hunger that made your skin crawl. Considering the circumstances, it was laughable to say that one made you feel unsafer than the others — but he did. Logically, how he preyed upon women must’ve played into your distaste for him. He held your gaze, peering into your thoughts with a vicious lack of consent, as he behaved with every woman he came in contact with. Finally, he spoke.
“I’ve waited long enough, Jimmy — can we kill her?” He said, sucking something out of his rotting teeth. He made a move as though he was going to get up.
You snapped your head to James, brows knit together in pleading. The visual surprised you. He, like the rest of the dinner party, had been staring at you, but instead of the feral, blood hungry gaze you expected, his eyes had gone glassy. He sucked his cheeks in, deep in thought. Beneath the dark fabric of his dress pants, heat blanketed his groin. You captivated him; the way your precious little eyes flitted back and forth in terror like a deer, the way your pulse thrummed in your neck, beating like a drum. He wanted you for his own — and only his own. Keeping his motives hidden, James stood up, smoothing out the fabric of his suit jacket. 
“No,” he crooned. “No, we can’t. I’m afraid I’ve had a change of heart… this one… belongs to me.”
You jerked your head in confusion, while grumbles of disappointment bounced off the walls. Ramirez said something sickening and Gacy let out a horrible, guttural chuckle. You strained against the rope, somehow trying to put more distance between you and them. James sliced his hand through the air to silence them both.
“Miss Wuornos,” he abruptly purred. “Go find us a dashing young man keen to join our party!”
“Ohohoh…. Lil’ ol’ me? Find a man? I’m gonna’ be frolickin’ in the fuckin’ daisy fields with this one. Be back!”
“Pl-please.” You begged. Your lips parted, allowing desperate promises to fall from between them. You wouldn’t tell anyone, you’d never come back here, you wouldn’t remember anything, you promised, you would never speak a word of this to anyone… You looked to James, who regarded you affectionately, but patronisingly, his lower lip jutted out in a faux-pout. He’d heard all this before, and it was of no concern to him. He’d made up his mind. It was his god damned birthday and he was going to have you all to himself.
Your begging fell on seemingly deaf ears, nobody bothered to entertain you. Your teary, burning eyes flitted to Ramirez, who was smiling his ugly, decaying smile at you, leaning forward in his seat. “I dunno’, she promises, Jimmy… maybe we should let her go.”
You shivered, grinding your wrists against the rope. Anger blanketed you. “Fuck off, weirdo.”
“Who you callin’ weirdo, bitch?”
“YOU!” You barked, straining. “I can smell your rancid breath from here. Had to kill all those women just because none of them would ever come within ten fucking feet of you!”
“Now, now… manners. She’s a lively one, isn’t she?” His mouth bent in a proud smirk, James looked to Richard, who was still bristling from the comment. He really wanted to kill you. Delighted at the fact that James had seemingly given you immunity, you wiggled happily in your chair, fighting the urge to stick your tongue out. You didn’t want to test him, though, and so you remained silent, watching instead. 
Silence was broken as the door opened. With a little thrashing, almost as desperate as your own had been, Aileen shoved a man — couldn’t have been more than 30 — inside. It didn’t take her long to find someone. In fact, it was like she opened the door, spotted him meandering by and dragged him back inside.
The guy noticed you first. Second, he noticed that you were tied to the chair so tightly that red marks on your wrists and ankles had begun to develop. Thirdly, he noticed the others, his eyes drifting slowly and visibly disturbed by who sat at the table. 
“Woah… what the fuck is this?” He asked.
“A good fuckin’ time is what it is.” One of them said. You didn’t care which. Blisteringly hot tears streamed down your face, stinging your cheeks. What were the stages of grief? You felt like you were cycling through them in rapid succession.
“Fucking let me go!” You howled, thrashing your torso back and forth, which did little to relieve anything. With a distressed expression plastered upon his face, the guy looked from you to the other guests and back, before nervously putting his hands up, taking one step back towards the door. “Hey, is she okay?”
“N—!“ James was suddenly behind you, cupping his hand over your mouth, pressing the tips of his fingers hard into your cheek flesh. His lips moved quickly, whispering hotly into your ear. “Hush now, don’t spoil the surprise for him. Let him find out on his own.”
“She’s fine, the hors d’oeuvres didn’t agree with her.” Aileen barked, towing the guy towards the table. She shoved him down into the only unoccupied seat.
“Dinner… is served.” James said. 
In unison, they all stood up. The sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor echoed in your head. Like syncronised swimmers, they all descended upon him, armed with whatever weapon they’d chosen. You hadn’t known the guy, but he had enough sympathy for you to make you cry at what was happening to him. He’d had a life, family… feelings. None of which mattered to him anymore, or perhaps that’s exactly what he was thinking about. Perhaps your entire life really did flash before your eyes before you died. 
You let out a scream that burned on its way out. It ached and tore and ripped its way up your windpipe as the shrill, bloodcurdling sound filled the room. It was louder than his, and louder than the sounds that were currently coming from the gaping, gargling hole in his throat.
Gacy moved from his side, allowing you a brief glimpse. Torn flesh hung from his shoulders and blood had almost completely covered the front of his body. You closed your eyes and turned your head away, rolling your lips inward and biting down. It was fucked up, and you weren't going to absorb any more of it.
“Sweet dreams, my little pet.” James said, in front of you. You turned your head towards the sound, but were met with blackness. 
A dull throbbing on the side of your head was what eventually pulled you awake, forcing your cinder-block weighted lids to peel apart. You looked around; an odd, minimally decorated room. Dark. Your head wobbled as you turned it left, then right, met with the same visual — your arms suspended high above your head, and rope again, at your wrists. You licked your lips and tasted metal. In your blurred vision, you noticed red flecked along your breasts. The ache on the side of your head was more than just an ache, it seemed.
Your consciousness ebbed, fading in and out. Sleep was comforting, the idea of it cradling you in its arms like a baby. You wanted so badly to sleep… just for a moment. Somewhere inside, you heard authoritative voices, advising against sleep. Concussions… sleep… sleep is bad… keep the individual conscious. And so you fought against the cool, towering shadow, turning your head away from nothing in particular. You couldn’t hear anything outside of your own laboured breathing, and the creak of the rope every time you decided to move. Nothing. Not even the muted voices of the monsters. 
Time meant nothing, you lost track of how long you’d been hanging there when you’d finally heard the creak of a heavy door. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly before wrenching them open. You weren’t sure if the crushing weight you felt was the looming weight of death as it shrouded you, or merely the physical strain of your body being suspended for hours. You knew people could eventually die from suspension. Their lungs caved in or something. The tips of your toes barely touched the floor, your big toe grazing the cold, concrete floor every time your body swayed softly.
With your head hanging between your shoulders, your muscles quivered as you lifted it, just in time to see the door in front of you shut. James, standing in front of it, reached for a black leather apron that hung on a hook. Before slipping it over his head, he flashed you a charming smile, pleased to see that you hadn’t expired yet. Reaching behind him to tie it around his waist, he approached you. The light from the wall sconces reflected against the fabric dully.
“Ah, there you are.” He crooned. 
You intended a scream, but could do nothing but whimper. You swallowed repeatedly, a feeble attempt to wet your dried out throat. James drug a single finger along your soft jawline, trailing it down your neck, and along your collarbone. You were drenched in sweat, streaks of it descending your face and neck.
The sudden ferocity in which he gripped your face made it sting, his thumb and forefinger digging into the bone of your jaw. He quirked a brow. You opened your mouth and although your throat was already raw, you finally screamed. You screamed again, angrily, and held his cold, black gaze. Your ragged shrieks filled the room over and over again as you tried, desperately, to wrench your hands free from the ropes.
Regrettable, James thought as his soulless eyes hungrily took in your form as it quivered and thrashed around. You were built like a Greek goddess, soft curves in all the right places, begging to be touched, worshipped.
“Aaaah,” He exhaled, frustratedly.  “You’re almost too pretty to kill.”
“Then — DON’T! Fucking let me GO! AaaarhhhH!” You yanked at the ropes again, thrashing around until a deep pain in your shoulder began to burn. You cried out, letting your body go slack. 
With a deep breath, you mustered up all your strength again, finding every drop of it within your tired body, and leaned forward to scream directly in his face. The result? He was wholly unphased by your screams. If anything, it seemed like he enjoyed them. Each one sounded a little more desperate than the last, and it only fuelled him further.
You decide to try a new, last-ditch tactic. Sore mouth contorting into a scowl, you gathered a mouthful of saliva and blood, hot and irony on your tongue and lunged forward, spitting it at him. The glob hit him square in the face, dripping slowly down towards his jaw.
“What, is it hard to focus?” You croaked. Your words were slurred, messy with the pain of the head wound.  “Didn’t think you’d want to fuck me as bad as you do, huh?”
James’ dark eyes narrowed, the muscles underneath twitching faintly. He had in fact picked you, and therefore had to accept all of your fiery little quips as they came – but that one… that one had caught him off guard. 
“You…” You narrowed your eyes, the fibres of the rope squeaking as you leaned towards him, your lips inches from his face. “…want to fuck me so bad, you can’t think. Look at you. You think your apron hides it?”
With brows raised, James glanced at his groin. Had he really been betrayed by his own body, so early on? Though he felt the warmth and stiffness increasing between his legs, there was no visual indication. James calmly brought his hand to his face, collecting the bloodied spit on his fingertips. With a reticent gaze, he brought them down between your legs, harshly knuckling the nightgown out of the way.
He smeared them roughly on your cunt. Your own fluids. The ones that you had just spit at him. Not only that, but he proceeded to tease your sensitive nerves with his fingers, pulling a confused gasp from your throat. Part of you had been bluffing, you weren’t entirely sure that he had wanted you —
James pulled back an inch to look at you again. Aside from your luscious body, your complexion was mottled with exhaustion, lips dry with fear, hair frazzled and bloody on one side. To him, it was a horrific sculpture of divinity. One that he had created in such little time with such little effort. The perfect, ample curves of your breasts were dotted with crimson, having dripped from the gash on your head. They jiggled delicately with each desolate shake you gave.
With his free hand, he took hold of your round, plush hips, his thumb working the softness like dough. He swung you towards him, pressing the pillowy tops of your thighs to his groin. Quickly, he identified a growing obsession with your body.
He loved it. All of it. In fact, he hadn’t seen a body as marvellously breathtaking as yours since his wife’s. Of course, it had been many years since he’d seen hers in any such manner, so the flames that licked at his desire were deprived, hungry ones. His mouth found yours, lips crushing against yours. His tongue, hot and strong, slipped in and beckoned yours to engage in an erotic dance.
He pulled your body closer, pressing it tightly against his. Though constricted by his trousers, you felt the bulging heat beneath his apron, and rubbed your thigh against it, teasing him. He groaned deeply in response, bucking his hips against you to force friction. After a few moments, James broke the kiss, panting heavily over your tender, swollen lips.
“Pl-please… don’t kill me… please…”
The back of his hand whipped across your mouth, hitting you so hard that the world sparkled when you opened your eyes again. Your face burned with the contact.
“Enough of that now! Say it again, and I’ll do just that!”
The harshness in his voice stunned you. Up until that point, he’d been using his syrupy, serenading voice — the one he had used to charm you into coming with him. Now, he bellowed, an unexpected violence. Silence hung heavy between you as he waited, baited you to beg for life once more. You didn’t speak again, but your sobs continued. 
Finally, his hand dropped between your legs again. Your clit ached, burned with the way his fingers fondled it, but he didn’t stop. Your poor, exhausted body trembled beneath his touch, doing all it could to express arousal. Salty droplets streamed from your hairline into your eyes, stinging as they absorbed.
“Would you rather die?” he asked, suddenly. 
“Wh-what? N-no… I d-don’t want to die…”
“That’s not what I meant, my little ember. I meant… would you rather die than be pleasured? I, of course, can arrange that.”  
You hesitated a moment, but finally, shook your head. 
At this thoughtful confession, James angled forward, plunging a single finger inside of you, past the knuckle. The digit wiggled inside of you briefly, before sliding back out slowly. He held it up for you both to see. “Oh,” he growled.  
His finger was generously coated in clear slick. Your body had betrayed you. 
Wordlessly, he untied the apron, tossing it carelessly to the side – it hit the floor with a heavy flop. Then, those same nimble fingers began unbuttoning and unzipping, until they gripped his rigidness, pumping it slowly for further stimulation. His chest heaved with wanton, desiring breaths as he stared at you, hanging there, with your warm, ample body for his taking. James lined his dick up with your leaking slit, and pulled you harshly onto his cock, showing no mercy for how exhausted your body was. 
Your cunt swallowed his cock whole, hungrily and desperately. His head fell back between his shoulders, a throaty groan coming from his open mouth. He began thrusting, slow at first. The ease of thrusting fascinated him; your body hung limp on the ropes and all James had to do was tug you forward, tug you in the direction he wanted you to go. 
“You know, I’ve never taken a woman like this before - suspended in the air,” he said, breathily. “Exquisite.” 
You mewled in response, snot dripping from your nose. 
Soon, the room was filled with wet, slick thrusting and the thudding sound of his torso as it met yours. You came repeatedly, coating his thick, pale cock in fluids you didn’t even know your body could make. At one point, during a particularly vicious thrusting, a warm, watery liquid splashed down over your thighs. You screamed like he was killing you, though he felt better than any man you’d ever been with, pleasuring you in ways that left you feeling breathless.
Still, your body persisted with its aches. So far, you’d been successful in appealing to his sexual nature, and decided to try again.
“….please…. Let me down… I’ll… d-do anything you wa—
Suddenly, he backed up, pulling the head from your cunt with a slick pop. You panted; fragile, pitiful breaths, barely enough energy to lift your gaze. With his rigid cock bouncing in front of him, James untied your hands, allowing your heavy, enervated body to fall into his arms. You couldn’t help but cry into his shoulder as he carried you to some sort of surface, laying you carefully down atop it. Some streak of mercy had captured him, and you mouthed words of gratitude. Your entire body buzzed with relief, your muscles aching in a funny, tingling way.
James wasted no time in fucking you again; the tip was nearly scarlet, hungry for release. His hand compressed on your soft stomach, pressing down into it to increase the pressure of his cock as it drove deeper and deeper inside of you.
“You know how this ends, my dear.” When he spoke, it sounded far away. But you did. You knew. There was never any end to this besides the one that you’d envisioned fearfully. He leaned to the side, retrieving a small, but very, very sharp blade from a nearby metal table. You watched numbly as James lifted the knife above your neck.
His hips pumped rhythmically, bringing you both closer to the fiery edge of ecstasy. Pulsing veins massaging your silklike insides, and another orgasm galloped towards you. Your body quivered, cold sweats taking over. 
James whipped the knife across your perfectly warm neck, and instinctively, your hands went to the laceration. Bright crimson gushed out from the spaces between your fingers, and you felt a gushy warmth press against your digits. The inner workings of your throat, you realized. The gore of your own body, pressing back against you in its heat. James laid one hand over yours, seemingly just to feel the blood as it spurted. With a deep, guttural moan, his cock twitched inside you just before it released, coating your insides.
She gasped, a wet gurgle. The light left her eyes, gradually, but beautifully. The pulses of blood eventually ebbed to a dull trickle. As his thrusts slowed, he expelled a long sigh – killing both excited him and depressed him. On one hand; it brought exhilaration, delight and sheer unadulterated arousal. On the other however, you only truly got to do it once. Certainly, you could kill a ghost a million times over, but the effect wasn’t the same.
For a moment, James’ expression contorted into one of regret; when you returned in your new spectral form, you’d likely not want to spend time with him. Yet another woman who loathed his presence roaming the hallways, avoiding him. But perhaps, he still wouldn’t mind having you stuck with him for all eternity, if only to gaze upon your perfect form whenever you’d let him. With matching wounds, at that. A true romantic.
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t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @garykingz / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @tatesdisasterofalover / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @demxnicprxncess / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @babygorewhore / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randominstake / @throwinginmythai / @slvt4jamesmarch / @poltoreveur / @feefymo / @evpeters87 / @lacucarachapisser / @stveharringtn / @fear-is-truth
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daughterofyore · 2 years ago
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George and the Pond.
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King George x f!reader
[[Queen Charlotte (Netflix)]]
category; heavy smut, fluff, angst (lil bit)
wc; 2,249
music inspired;- apocalypse
a/n:: George has a manic episode by the pond, you manage to calm him and he’s so thankful for you he fucks you to show it :)
TW!: NSFW, George porphyria episode (Venus), heavy smut, breeding kink, Good ol fast sex
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Venus begged George to find her. She pleaded with him to search, to save her. She was his one true love. She needed him! He ran through the palace grounds, in the distance behind him there was a cacophony of shouts, someone begging for him to turn around. It was Venus’ ex lovers, surely. They didn’t understand the love they shared, the adoration of their coupling. Her beautiful, pale skin and blemished face. Glowing like a fading star against the ebony blanket of the night sky. An infinite amount of white blazing stars surrounding her like a halo in all her glory. Oh, how he longed to be by her side. How he dared to get closer to her. He needed to feel her glow upon his skin, so without a moments hesitation he ripped his clothes from his skin. Silk pyjamas made of the finest lapis lazuli blue discarded into the mud of the pond. He raised his arms to her, crying for her to join him on this mortal plane. For the goddess of love to bless him with her prowess. He could feel her compassionate deposition seep into his very pores, touching his bare, sculpted body. Casting shadows along the dips and ridges of his muscles.
“George!” You cried out to him, watching as he bared his body to the entire garden. Reynolds raced ahead of you, reaching before you could. You were still adorned in your glittering evening gown. Made of a deep fiery scarlet, as if it was made of the last embers of a great fire. Silver lining cascaded down its centre and bodice, elaborate lace adorning the contrasting peachy cream underskirt. It flew around you as you gathered the skirt into your arms, heels clicking off the cobbles and then sinking into the finely kept lawns. You stumbled and struggled to reach your husband, you could see his eyes glistening as he stared at the planet Venus. He cried of his love to her, his devotion. How is it I don’t receive that love? You scoffed, a moment of clarity as you were still unsure as to why he acted this way. You had suspected it for some time now, his comings and goings from Kew. The secrecy surrounding him and the protectiveness of not only Reynolds but his mother too.
Your voice was like an arrow through the fog, piercing the hazy clouds in his peripherals. Venus seemed to fade into the background as he spun to look at you. You weren’t Venus, you were you. Shining brighter than she ever could. As he watched you approach, the sparkles glittering from your dress enraptured him. He felt himself falling in your direction, before a voice called him to turn around. Venus, competitive as always. She challenged you for his attention. He laughed incredulously, how lucky was he to be fought over by the Goddess of Love and her rival? Reynolds stood at his side, begging helplessly for him to return to the castle. He gathered his clothes in his hand, looking at him with a pleading gaze. Continuously he requested for the King to go inside, tried to reason with him. You knew you had never seen this before but maybe, just maybe he would recognise you.
You reached his side, letting go of your dress. It fell on his feet and pressed into his calves. He turned to you, eyes wide, hyperventilating. “You won-“ He whispered looking at you, as if it was the first time he truly saw you. He turned towards the sky, laughing. “You lost Venus! Imagine that!” He returned to face you but upon seeing your worried expression, his celebrations halted. “How come you are not happy? You have won, have you not?”
“George, it’s time we go inside now.”
“What, why? The night is beautiful we-“
“George, Venus has lost this game but I would prefer to celebrate with you indoors.” He stood very still for a moment, dark brows scrunching together as he tried to concentrate and discern exactly what you were implying. His brain felt jumbled, mixed and confused. Like he wasn’t allowed to understand, as if there was a black alabaster wall separating from the here and there.
“I wish to stay here. Let’s celebrate here.” You paused and gazed at him, studying him carefully. You spun to Reynolds.
“Cover the windows and leave his clothes here. Ensure nobody enters these grounds or can see us.” Reynolds pressed his lips into a thin line before muttering a ‘Yes, your majesty.’ He left, grabbing Brimsley by the elbow and guiding him indoors. You turned back to George, your husband. Your king. You rested a gentle hand on his chest, and he stilled. He sucked in a devastating shaky breath before raising his arms to hold your shoulders.
“You, you saw- oh, wife I- oh I am so sorry.” His eyes began to water, a new clarity crossing them. His face slackened, now an evident frown replacing his once maniacal smile. You hushed him, gently guiding him to your chest as you snaked comforting arms around him. You held him in your embrace, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he let silent sobs escape him. He sniffled, clutching onto the fabric of your dress as he eventually sunk to his knees. “My dear I am so sorry, I am sorry I have avoided you. That I have tried to hide I-“ He couldn’t get his words out but you put a comforting hand on his head. Intertwining your fingers with his brown locks, you gently massaged his scalp.
“Do not apologise George. I understand you. I am here for you. Come, let us lie and look at the stars together.” You smiled at him, holding his hand and laying on the lawn. He tentatively lay beside you, he finally noticed his nakedness and his hands rushed to cover himself. You once again shushed him, grabbing the many layers of your skirts and draping them across his waist. “No need to worry about what I have seen before darling.” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled, sucking in a breath after as he looked to the sky.
“I could be married to a pompous wench right now, who wouldn’t give a damn about me. Who would run in the opposite direction if she saw what I did tonight..” he turned his head, gazing at you. You met his eyes and smiled. “Yet you stay, you lie with me. Why?”
“I believe I see myself in you. Trapped, misunderstood.” You took a shivering breath. “Sometimes all we need is a little kindness and a show of stability. I wish to be that for you.” His eyes began to glaze, he sucked in his bottom lip as it began to quiver.
He turned on his side, a new light coming to his eyes. Slowly he raised a leg to bend at an angle across your thighs. Bracing himself on an elbow he gazed at you. His face inches from you. “I do not know what I have done to deserve a woman such as you.” Slowly he lowered his lips to yours, kissing you softly. You reciprocated it, lips merely mingling before he slipped his tongue across them, asking for entry. You obliged, parting your lips as his tongue slipped by. He licked the bottom of your teeth, before dancing around your tongue with his. He sucked on your lip, biting it gently and sucking the sting away. You gasped, a hand travelling up his side. You could feel his muscles shiver at your touch, he manoeuvred over you, straddling your hips. His cock pressed against your stomach, hardening. His hands travelled up your sides before reaching your breasts. They were secured behind the corset of your evening gown, yet he managed to push a hand down its front and grope one. He massaged it in his hand, loving the mass and softness of it. His kiss deepened, he peppered them along your jaw and to your collarbone. Reaching your cleavage he looked at you mischievously, recalling his hand and replacing its absence with long, sensuous licks across the top of your breasts. His tongue travelled over them, then between. He licked up from your cleavage to your throat, to your lips. Kissing you again before he backed down, grabbing your skirts.
“And I you, my queen.”
You were breathing heavy, barely able to control the growing heat intensifying between your legs. A steady throb as it begged for attention. Your core tightening in angst of what was to come. This was what your wedding night should’ve been, but you didn’t care. This, this was better. Laying on the cool grass beneath a bright moon and stars that reflected off of a still pond. This was bliss. George hiked your skirts up, laying them across your midriff. He bowed down again, grabbing your pantyhose and pulling them down to expose bare thighs. He looked at you over the mound of skirts, smirking. “Are you alright my love, may I continue?” You nod, breath escaping you. You peered up at the stars between the foliage of the cherry blossom tree. George dipped his head between your thighs, gently pushing them apart. He kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin, licking the sting away again once more.
Agonisingly slow he made his way to your centre, licking over the underwear covering you. He raised a hand, rubbing a finger between your folds and feeling the wetness seep the fabric. He grinned, pushing a finger into you and watching you arch your back. He kept the underwear on, watching you squirm as he teased you. Ever so slowly he retracted the finger, dragging it up and pressing it to your clit. Your juices soaked the fabric now, it clung to your very shape. You jolted at the contact, the pressure on your clit making you pull away. He grabbed your left leg, putting it over his shoulder and gripping your thigh to hold you in place. He spread you with a knee, continuously exploring you over the whimsy barrier of your panties. You moaned, trying to move but he held you firmly in place. “Are you ready wife? Ready for me to take you?” You nod feverishly, his ministrations have built a fiery ache in your core. Begging for his attention. Your cunt wept as it pleaded for him to enter it, to give it attention. George smirked, gently taking your hands and pulling you up. He stepped behind you and made short work of the lace up your back. He quickly pulled the dress off, then the undergarments until finally you were bare before him. He smiled, standing back and admiring you. “My beautiful wife, in all her glory.” His eyes were ravenous, without a moments hesitation he was back between your legs. He kneeled, grabbing your hips he hoisted you into an awkward position, your legs dangled above his shoulders while you lay only on your shoulders and head. He held you in his grip, his lips placing tender kisses across your cunt. He licked, slow as of tasting your every essence. His tongue slipped into you, to which he began to lick inside you. He left it begging for more and turned his attention to your clit again. It throbbed for him, and he knew it did. He wrapped an arm around your leg, balancing your ass against his chest as he spread you with two fingers. He began to taste you, sucking on your clit. He nipped it, sucking it better straight after. You squirmed in his grasp but he still held you firmly, refusing to let you move. He lapped at your pussy like a thirsty dog, drinking you up. He turned his attention back to your clit, sucking intensely on it. You moaned, cried out his name. He seemed to only grow more excited and you could feel his length pressing into the small of your back. He sucked, and sucked, and sucked until finally the growing tension ruptured. You screamed his name, yet he continued to suck and lick you through the orgasm. You were trembling at the end, and he lay you down, kissing your stomach. He looked up at you as you threaded fingers through his hair. “I’m going to put a baby in you, my queen.” He smirked and you swore it nearly undid you again. He sat back on his knees, his cock long and hard as it stood. He grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him. He grabbed his dick, rubbing it’s tip along your slit. He pressed a firm hand down on your stomach as he slowly pushed his way in without any warning. You stretched, moaning around him. His sheer size pushing you close to ecstasy.
Once he was in he let loose a shivering sigh, looking back to you. “Are you alright my love?” You nodded, placing a hand on his as it pressed into your stomach. He could feel the faint mass of his cock in you, it turned him on even more. Slowly, he pulled out and pushed back in again. Keeping a slow and steady rhythm till you had adjusted. Once he could feel you relax, he began to pound into you. Growing in intensity. Gasps of air escapes him each time he fucks you. You were a moaning mess, barely able to breathe. Your breasts bounced up and down at the ferocity he pounded into you. His balls clapped off your ass, sounding through the garden. You felt like you were in heaven. He looked up at you and grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing it. He pinched your nipple, pulling it slightly as he fucked you. You were in ecstasy. Every inch of your being burning, yearning for his touch. He grabbed your hips, spinning you around to be on all fours as he stayed inside you. He gripped your hips and continued his merciless fucking. “George! Oh fuck George-“ You screamed for him, moaning his name.
“I’m going to cum inside you pretty queen-“ He moaned your name, deep and guttural. “And watch you grow with our child, our heir.” You cried out for him again, and it was all he needed to slam himself into without mercy, he reached a hand around you, rubbing your clit with no remorse. It was so intense you couldn’t think straight.
“George I- George I’m going to cum!”
“Do it, do it for me my queen. Do it together.” He moaned above you, continuing his ministrations. The pair of you cried out, heads thrown back in ecstasy. You orgasmed, and he spilled his seed into you. It’s warmth spreading through your core. He stayed in you for a moment, breathing deeply. You were gasping for air below him. Eventually he slid out, pulling you down to lay beside him. He held you close, running a lazy hand up and down your side.
“My beautiful Queen, fucked by the garden pond.”
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punk-in-docs · 4 months ago
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A song of brides and hounds: part III
— Emperor Geta x Reader (Salacia)
— 4.3k words.
— Read all parts here: Part I — Part II — Part III — Part IV
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Summary: You were raised outside of this Rome. Born into peace. To know of fathomless deep seas, and skies so big, they wrapped around your whole sight. The way that at night all you can smell are lemon trees kissed by salt. The jasmine plants wound around the white walls of the villa. Salacia. And now you are sent to Rome for your father in the Senate. There you will catch the attention of Geta; in all the wrong and darkest of ways— any reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated 💙💙💙
TW: for this chapter - mainly violence and some gore, also Caracalla being a nasty little bitch -- enjoy!
The servant girls’ hands are kind.
They undress you softly, and handle you with such reverence. Strip from you the ruined stola and tend your wounds.
They wash your feet, ply your cuts with a herbal paste of yarrow and uva ursi, wrap you in bandages. They rub new sweet smelling oil onto your unwounded skin.
Pick off your old jewellery and finery to be discarded. Slip you out your shoes. Lay you bare. Stood before them in naught but your skin as they tend you.
One is wetting, oiling and combing your netted hair to silky serenity again. Another is cleaning the wound on your elbow. All traces of dirt - and your previous life along with it - slowly removed.
Stood you in a shallow golden tub of warm water that laps at your ankles. Milky with oils and soaps. They put rose petals in the water. You watch them swim and dip.
You beg for one of the girls to keep the fibulae broaches that held your now damned dress to your shoulders. Your very last essence of home. Venus was enshrined in those very broaches. They gave you hope. Carrying a small kind piece of goddess with you. Laying your devotion to the majesty of the ocean on your simple shoulders.
They guided you to rooms draped in blue and gold. Stars moulded on the ceiling with the ornate marble that drips from every wall and corner. Giving the false illusion of a night sky. The flat ceiling between them clouded with bursts and puffs of dark blue that indicated churning night clouds. Boundless skies. Endless seas.
It felt like showing all the maps of the world to a caged bird.
Soft feminine blues befit these chambers. Statues and devotion to goddesses crown the walls and doorways. Urns of large stemmed white flowers. One wall holds a table lined with a huge offering of fruits, dried and fresh. Some bread and cured meats and oiled small fish. And an amphora of wine and goblet for after your bathing.
The air in here is scented all floral herb and clean. Too clean. No hint of sea salt or dried weed that tumbles on the shore to bake in the sun. It’s unfamiliar.
The huge slab of the cushioned bed is draped with silks and gauzy canopy curtains the colour of dove feathers. You don’t want to look at it. You dread thinking what will happen in it tonight.
A large maw of balcony gapes at another side of the room. This shows you the wall of rain outside. The violent tumble of thunder that must be shaking the very hills and peoples of Rome.
You feel as if the sea is raging because you’ve been stolen from it. Now it seeks vengeance on the land. Lashing and storming mercilessly until you’re found. Back where you belong.
Unlikely. It will have to rage on.
You stand, undressed, unseeing. Uncaring for the wealth of the room you’ve been pulled into.
The maid behind you, Oriana, a sweet and silent blonde, is scooping your hair back from your neck to comb and ply it with vanilla and orchid oil. Dark sweet musk.
Geta had specifically requested it.
Your head servant is a maid called Aeliana.
She has an accent you can’t place. It’s pretty, her tone husky. She had wonderful raven hair spilling silky and free over her shoulders, eyes dark as cassia bark, almond shaped. Long lashes. The epitome of tranquil beauty.
The colour of her dress is different to the rest of them. Indicating her higher status. Rusty red and it readily compliments the natural darkness of her skin. She wore golden bangles threaded on each wrist, and her touch is cloud soft.
She has a scar that intersects down from the middle of her forehead, across her left eye and cheek and ends there. Skin twisted and healed shiny. An old wound. It makes her striking to look at.
Worse still; She catches you staring.
Lowers her eyes as she tended you. Layering the sticky wet herbal treatment to your wounded elbow.
“Does my appearance displease you, my lady?” She lapses into silence for a moment or two.
“If you’d prefer I could send for another handmaiden to come tend you-“ She asks. Not harshly. There’s a hint of shame to her tone.
You look to her. Fearful of offence.
“I am not displeased. Forgive me. To stare so openly is rude.” You mutter. Eyes falling to your feet again. You watch rose petals sway on the water. You swallow thickly.
If she’s amused at your asking her, a servant, for forgiveness, she doesn’t show it. She calmly counters;
“You are Empress Salacia of Rome. You are allowed to stare at whomever you wish.” She tells you plainly.
Your eyes water. You bite inside your lower lip before you respond.
Not yet I’m not. And I don’t want to be.
“How came you by the scar?” You ask. Knowing full well you won’t like the answer. She gently washed your shoulder with a cloth.
“The Emperor.” She tells frankly.
At your doe eyed expression of horror she elucidates.
“Not Emperor Geta. His brother, Caracalla. Emperor Geta’s temper may be foul and quick to boil. But, Caracalla he is… far crueler.” She explains.
Your mouth purses into a thin line.
Oriana has finished oiling your hair. Now she was styling it into waves. Decorated with ornaments of netted gold. Geta requested it down as opposed to the normal bridal style. Emperors have what they want.
“What was the reason…” You sought. Fearing the answer.
“I was too slow in bringing his wine one night.” She offers. Plucking a vial of oil from the side table and coming back to rub it into your bare arms.
You squeeze your eyes closed. Ignore the tickle of tears that threaten your scrunched eyelids.
This is the savage world you must inhabit now. Try to navigate with sharper hungrier teeth and deadlier instinct. You don’t feel ready. You must become lionhearted and fierce. Carry knives. Be ruthless.
You hear your mothers reverent voice in your head. Sweet sea child. You were not made that way.
“I am sorry for your pain. Aeliana. But I am grateful for your warning.” You decide.
She nods. “I thank the goddess’ for you. Empress.” She smiles at you.
Before going to the side to fetch your tunica recta, and the belt you’d wear on your waist in a knot of hercules. Which tradition dictated only Geta was allowed to undo.
Your husband.
You wince. Aueliana notices.
“Your majesty?” She seeks. Sensing your unease.
“I am nervous.” You tell her. You confide your worry in this woman with kind eyes and soft hands.
“It is expected of a bride to be nervous.” She awards you.
“I’m not a normal bride.” You confirm fearfully. She can see them shaking in your gaze. Threatening to breach your lash line.
She nods in understanding. You’re sure they all knew. The reason that placed you here. Spread like wildfire on dry plains through the servant halls.
“I know little of managing a husband. Of… starting a family.”
“If I may, your majesty. Your family is a noble one, yes?” She asks.
You nod. You lived in one of the richest houses in Corsica. You were never lacking in money or ribbons and new jewels. But at best you were a senators daughter. Not the ideal stock for an Emperors wife. Not the type to be governing one great nation.
“My grandmother is a well known seer in these parts. A healer. Purveyor of white magic. Many a time she has seen things that have yet to come to pass…” She explains as she wraps the belt around your waist. Speaking as she does.
“She foretold your arrival. Said the future of Rome would be written by rain and storm, when blood spills on the ancient serpent stone.”
Serpent. Synonymous with the Traitor. Two faced and shedding skin. Blood spilling, the death of your Brother. Rain on the rocks- this storm hammering down. You can’t believe it.
“What if Rome is your destiny?” She explains. Her voice kind and brave as the candles flicker and the storm rages on.
“Then I pray the goddess’ convey me the strength to survive it.”
“I will pray too.” She takes your hand. It feels like kinship.
They stepped you out of the tub and began to pat you dry with cloths and then dress you.
With each pass of their hands wiping the water from your skin, it removed you further and further from yourself.
Aeliana rubs a sweet balm like texture onto your pebbled nipples before she robes you. Said it was to increase your fertility. She also lines your eyes with burnt kohl.
They pulled your dress on around you. Let it fall into beautiful waves. You stood sedately and let them manoeuvre you.
Your skin positively draped with as much fragrant oil as it could take. Anointed with your new life as it drips off you in unbearable sweetness. Decorations not of your choosing put into your hair, on your ears, around your neck, on your arms. Strangled by someone else’s finery.
Slid fine golden sandals onto your feet. Aeliana brought a flame red veil and pinned it in place over your head. It floated down to your shoulders. Securing a crown of myrtle flowers over it.
It may have been gauzy fabric; rich and fine. But it felt like iron to you. Iron veil and a crown of thorns.
When they finish readying you, they bow and leave you alone to eat the fresh bread and fruits. Drink the sweet wine. Night closes in around you.
You didn’t ever picture the night before your wedding being like this. Alone and noiseless save for rain. You pictured the noise and gaiety of your sisters, dancing in their fine dresses. How they’d carry golden stalks of wheat to signify your prosperous marriage - how it would bear fruit. Be blessed by gods and fortune.
Your mother would bind your hands to the man you’d marry. To the man you’d love.
And you are here. Miserable in cold indifference. Clothed in perfumed oil and silence. With only your dour thoughts for company.
You pick at your offering of food. Feeling the milky eyes of those female deity marble statues watching you carefully. Judging. Maybe even disappointed.
When the doors next shudder open as the guards outside push them open, a divine older woman comes striding slowly, surely, into the room. Confidence woven into her steps like the very fine lavender purple cloth folded around her shoulders. A beautiful sage green palla. Her hair is dark and braided masterfully on her head. Shot through with bolts of silver.
You recognise her from coins. From statues. The Dowager Empress of Rome. Julia Domna.
She looks wise as Minerva. Goddess of education indeed. All of Rome had heard tale of not only her beauty, but her mind. Sharp as an arrowhead. A gentle mediator between her rabid sons.
Out of sheer politesse and nerves, you bolt out your seat and bow your head to her. Words shrivel on your tongue. Royalty is stood before you. Here you are plucked from the dungeons. You feel unworthy.
“Rise, my child.” She bids you. Holding out a hand laid with jewels on nearly every finger. Standing before you. Close enough to discern some of your beauty through the veil.
She examines you. Not unkindly. The way you’d expect a mother to examine the vessel that will carry her sons legacy. She’s discerning.
“Let me see my sons choice then…” she bids. Hands crossed in front of her, diplomatically, as she lets her deep set, serious eyes become acquainted with all of you.
Choice? Or chattel?
She walks around you. Eyes your hair. Your build. Your hips. The way you’ve been presented like a prized sacrificial swine before the crowds on Saturnalia.
And she doesn’t appear to find you lacking
“Goodness. You really are beautiful.” She says. It sounds mournful. Introspective. As if she didn’t intend on you hearing it.
“He’s made a fine choice.” She lauded
“Corsica, I hear you hail from?”
“Yes, Dowager.”
“I want to know one thing.” She says. Voice hard as newly forged steel. A shiver runs your spine. So she could be terrifying if she wishes.
“Are you a traitor against Rome?” She demands. “There are spies who would conspire to align themselves with this great house, under false guises, to murder my sons.” She speaks, crossly. Eyes aflame.
She has bite after all. Lions teeth and knows full well how to use them.
“I am no spy. I am not a murderer I have no guise. Like you. I only want to protect those whom I love.” You answer calmly. Placid easy waves. Gently now.
She smiles. Though something curious still lurks in her eyes.
“Then we are on the same page.” She awards slyly. You feel as if you’ve passed a test.
Her smile crooks on one side. Relieved.
She turns to the doors. The great sway of her earrings are big as chandeliers as she moves. Stunning gold. Bands of gold also cross her well formed upper arms. Every inch a woman of gentility and riches. She is perfumed with lavender. Oil made from dried plants fetched all the way from purple fields in Aquitania.
“My son grows impatient to see his bride. Come. Salacia. It is time.” She offers her arm to you.
Apparently your destiny lays in wait.
~
The wedding was a short and simple affair. The Dowager Empress led you to the grand rooms where they were to be held.
Grand, just like the rest of this humongous sprawling palace.
When you see Geta, he is clad in so much gold and armour. A blinding white cloak draped off his form. Armour golden. Carved with gods and victorious hero’s of battle. Golden laurel crown adorns his head. His smile at the sight of you makes you blush with attention.
You are suddenly grateful for the veil. It manages to hide you from every stranger in this room. You can make out Caracalla. Some other senators. Other guests you’ve no idea who.
The celebrant, a rather portly priest, ordered the evil spirits away. Asked for the fire spirits to bless you. He invoked Janus to watch over you from single people to a joined couple. New beginnings.
When it is time, he takes your hand and carefully threads an engagement ring on your finger. It is weighty, pure gold. An imitation of two dog heads joined together. A round sapphire cradled between their mouths. As if they’re fighting for it.
Remus and Romulus. It reminds you of him already.
You dare to meet his eyes as he does it. He looks ravenous. Umbra catching you where you stand. Swallows you whole. You don’t think you can get used to it yet.
“Wherever you go, there also go I, as your wife.” You speak.
The dowager Empress binds your hands together with blood red linen as the rest of the vows are read. The way his fingers turn and grip the inside of your forearm - firm pressing, hot like a brand - it makes you shiver.
Then comes the time for the marriage to be sealed with a kiss. Hands freed.
Your stomach is squirming unpleasantly as your stranger of a groom steps forwards to lift your veil. When he lifts the red gauze from your vision, you keep your eyes lowered until the last moment.
You feel the urging of his eyes. You could hear the fierce nature of his words as if he’d spoken.
Look at me. Salacia.
He looks entirely too boastful. His perfect little nymph. Caught and landed at last.
Hepulled you in by your waist. Locked his hand around your back. Gave you a kiss that was certainly gentler than before. Softness of his lips was maddening when the rest of him was all armour and metal. But you still felt the edge of his teeth on your lower lip. Bursting new pain from where it had split.
It was official. You had been dragged out a golden net cast in the sea. And now property of the Emperor of Rome.
You had no time to let your thoughts wander. There’s been quite the celebration planned for after. He walks beside you as congratulations ripple around you from nobles, senators, generals and high officials of the courts.
You ignore the way Caracalla sneers a particularly vile look your way when you pass him. Plotting.
You are lead to an opulent triclinium. Open to one huge side, guarded by pillars, which overlooked a garden where fountains trickled and plants bloom even in the storm that’s still brewing. Spitting rain on the landscape.
There are torches at the sides of the rooms, huge bowls boasting orange flames that lick at the walls, and freshly plucked flowers, still green branches and fronds sit in urns to the side. Filling the room with petals and heady nectar scent.
There’s a huge swarm of lectus’ in the centre of the room. Bronze laid with cushions. All pointing towards a huge table were bread and wine goblets awaited. You’re not used to how the room echoes. Unused to the sheer amount of people and formality that fills it.
The wine is poured freely by silent servants who sweep in and out. Some of them carrying plates as huge as carriage wheels. A whole roasted boar with grapes spilling out its mouth is brought in. Trays upon trays of cooked moray eels, cod and oiled anchovies. A whole platter of stewed nightingale birds, arranged around stalks of herbs and plums.
There’s fruit and bread the like of which you’ve not seen before. White bowls filled with cut purple figs and waxy oranges. Apples and yellow golden pears on tiered stands. Grapes and dried apricots heaped in dishes. It’s dazzling. So much wealth thrust before you.
You have a cup of sweet honey wine and take some of the unleavened bread. Watching as others around you gorge and toast with their goblets. Drinking strong wine and telling jokes and bawdy stories.
You feel disjointed from it all. You feel the Emperors eyes pass over you. The dowagers too. You are a source of mystery and intrigue.
Plucked from misfortune and placed here at the feet of gods.
You do feel when your new husband slides some pieces of fruit, or fresh breads onto your plate. A small bunch of sweet red grapes. His head may be cocked to conversation in this room. But his attention remains somewhat on you.
“Eat. Wife. I do not wish to force you.” He commands you. Prodding food and more wine in your direction.
Nursing his own cup and barking at the servants when he wanted more. You know his tongue must be stained with the taste by now. Sour purple. You wonder if you’ll taste it later in another of his animalistic kisses.
It feels like there is a boulder in your stomach. You swallow. You sip. You try to breathe. It all feels too restricted.
“Refill my wife’s cup.” Geta demands of the nearest servant. You flinch at his cutting commands.
You meet the servants eyes for a second and flicker them a smile. They look to the ground as they fill your cup. Their poor hands shake. You thank them. They don’t respond.
You’ve a feeling his plying you with wine has more than one ulterior motive. To make you loosen. Make you pliant. Make you slip down easier in his crushing grip.
“I have no appetite.” You admit weakly.
You can’t stomach the way the fat on the meat before you glistens. These poor stewed birds with clipped wings. The gutted boar. Glistening fat and dead meat. Same as the way of those poor flayed men in the coliseum.
Butchered animals. One and the same. The way blood sprayed out on the biscuit brown dirt under the sun. The way viscera glistened bright when spilled free from once living flesh. How these animals looked served on a platter. There’s no difference.
You take some grapes. Pick them from the vine. Bite into some apricots. The fruit rots on your palate. Fine sugary flesh and it bursts on your tongue like ripe putrefaction. You place it gently back on your plate.
“Do they not have fruit in Corsica?” He asks. It’s vaguely mocking.
“We had lemon trees in the gardens. An olive tree in the courtyard. Over 200 years old.” You state quietly. Not taking your eyes off the plate in front of you. You picked and prodded at it.
“You have more now. You are Empress. You have anything you want.” He impressed on you.
“I miss the ocean. The sun on the shoreline. My sisters.” You mutter.
“Don’t risk sounding ungrateful.” He threatens.
Geta followed the path of your reluctant hand with his eyes. He then scans across all of his guests. People of the senate. Rich merchants. Fellow royalty.
They come to snipe and drink wine and watch this new wedded spectacle.
“They are all dull.” Geta decided.
You wonder if the only source of amusement he could delight at was seeing people being beaten to black and blue paste in the coliseum. To have to see the spray of blood to feel something.
“They are intrigued. Their Emperor has placed a traitor in his marriage bed.” You comment.
Geta turned to you. “That sounds like treason to my ears.” A warning.
“Perhaps.” You answered. Boldly.
“But is it inaccurate? It is what they are all thinking.” You add. “You’ve wedded yourself to someone disloyal. Someone who is not their kind. They are curious.”
Geta scans his eyes over everyone again. Their laughter. The flow of wine. The way they stab and cut into food and fruit like they’re half starved. None of them quite meet your eyes.
Perhaps they don’t wish too.
His hand finds the meat of your thigh. Flesh firm and warm.
“They will believe what I tell them too. Wife. You only need worry about your loyal duty to me. Nothing else.” He makes clear.
You go back to pushing bits of fruit around your plate. Taking no more sustenance.
“No doubt you are unused to such finery.” Caracalla pipes up. Seeing you toy with your food. “I wonder what they eat in Corsica. Peasants sea food?”
You meet Caracalla’s eyes across the tables and mountains of rich food.
Getas eyes were dark. Fired by lust for you. That’s what you saw in them when he looked at you.
The same could not be said for Caracalla.
You saw nothing. Just darkness and his love of cruelty. Geta unnerved you. But it was Caracalla who scared you most. It was like gazing into a tomb. A bare skull eye socket. You’re certain nothing but darkness refracted back. Splintered twisted darkness. The purest distilled form of malice.
“Perhaps you are jealous, brother. The fact that I will have heirs meant for the future of the empire. And you will… not.” He snaps. Petulant.
“If she makes it that far.” Caracalla sneers. Daggering a smile right at you. A sneer that make you feel cold. He’s twirling a dagger in his other hand. Eyeing you with sick lustful interest.
He wants your goodness too. He wants it so he can spoil you for himself and ruin Getas legitimacy. By whatever means necessary. Geta has cruelly inserted you into this feud.
“And who’s to say the heir will be yours… who knows where her eyes will stray.” He jabs. Eyes widening as he leers.
Geta stabs into his food. Glaring at his smaller twin all the while. Eyes dark as shadow cloaked black jewels.
When some servants near you move from pouring wine, the sight of the persons impeded by them, slowed your world to a halt, ringing gongs in your ears when you caught sight of someone you recognized.
Macrinus.
The food in your mouth turns to ash which you can hardly stomach swallowing. Your gaze locked on the man as he lays content at your wedding feast. Drinking wine and roaring laughter with Caracalla. Garbed in robes of rich Aquarian blue trimmed with gold pattern.
Exactly the gracious easy way he had been when he dined with you and your father in his home.
His smile remains as he locks eyes with you. And raises his glass in a toast in your direction. You hear him drink to your new name with a blazing smirk aimed your way. “Empress.”
You mumble a pithy excuse. You don’t know if anyone hears you or if they’ll even look up from their plates when you get up and rush to leave.
Caracalla snorts as you race from the room on the verge of tears.
“She’s a flighty one. Your Empress. So full of tears.” Caracalla comments loudly. Cruelly. Turning his head to meet the acid stare of his brother - and the Dowager Empress as she lowers her goblet from her lips. Eyes cool as metal.
“Maybe if you shoved your cock into your broodmare, brother, as you doubtless plan to do this night. Maybe that would settle her down? Or maybe a good beating from the guards will see her right, make her see her place… maybe let a few of the guards bend her over a lectus and see to her first? Loosen her up a little for your uses.”
“Caracalla. Enough.” The dowager snaps. Lightning power in her voice. Tone fashioned from a fury storms could envy. Her dark eyes glow with it.
She turns to Geta and lays a gentle pacifying hand to his arm. “See to your bride, dear. She looked unwell.”
Geta sighs a snarl. Glaring at his brother as he does as mother suggested.
She watches him leave. Turns to her other son with barely concealed ire.
Caracalla snorts into his wine with the other guests. Making sneering, high handed remarks.
“Such marital bliss.” He mocks to the guests. Twirling his favourite silver dagger in his other hand. Laughing as he played with the dead meats on his plate with a sneer. His tooth winked golden in the light.
~
Tagging in the hopes this finds its way to the right people- thank you--
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spudangle · 10 months ago
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Companion Bed/Sleeping Preferences
Lae'zel. Brought up as a warrior she definitely prefers practicality over comfort. Big luxurious soft beds are not for her, they’re too much of a hassle to get in and out of, not proficient at all. But if she has to, then she can pretty much sleep anywhere, be it while lying down, sitting, or standing. If she were to choose, she would probably prefer a hard surface over a soft one, so that her back feels nice and straight in the morning. She’s probably the companion who goes to bed first if she’s not on watch duty, and were it not for the elven companions then she would also be the one to wake up first quickly getting ready for the day. However she’s NOT allowed to sharpen her sword until after everyone else has gotten up.     
Shadowheart, too, has been trained to be able to sleep under most conditions, and a comfortable bed hasn’t really been commonplace for her under Shar.
But unlike Lae’zel, Shadowheart would actually enjoy having a bit of comfort in her life, especially after leaving Shar. It’s just something that she has to rediscover gradually. The feeling of the soft warm bed that she has at the Elfsong—a stark contrast to the cold stone of her old bed—is nice, but she almost finds it too warm at first quickly having to throw off her duvet to not overheat. The smell of clean linens however is perhaps her favorite thing, reminding her of a childhood long forgotten. Post-game she would probably enjoy having her own sleep rituals that she can do for herself and not to appease some cruel goddess. 
Astarion is a man of luxury. That means that he wants as big and soft a bed as possible, he practically wants to drown into the mattress. And it HAS to have clean silk sheets, he is done with damp dirty sheets that smell like they’ve been fucked to death. The bed is preferably a curtained four poster so that the warmth can’t escape, because obviously the bed has been warmed up by a bed warmer before he gets in. I know that there are several takes about the wooden board that he has in his tent, but I personally believe that it's there so he doesn't have to place his bedroll directly on the dirty ground. Anyways, Astarion wants a comfortable bed because he is a creature of comfort, and if can’t rest peacefully then he can at least suffer while in a comfortable bed. 
Gale also is a man of comfort when it comes to beds. His bed in Waterdeep has at least ten pillows, however he can only sleep with one otherwise he gets neck pain. The extra pillows are there so that he can sit comfortably while reading in bed. The bed itself is probably also really pompous looking, not exactly like the one from his last night alive scene, no it’s more pompous than that, it’s probably round. Yes it’s round. It’s a round four poster, decorated with golden constellations and heavy velour curtains hoisted up with thick tasseled ropes. And boy did he miss his bed when he had to leave Waterdeep. It’s not that he can’t sleep anywhere else, it just takes him a while to get used to new surfaces. ALSO, Gale most definitely talks in his sleep. Has he ever set something on fire in his sleep? He would never admit it, but he also can’t say no.    
Wyll. Since being cast out by his father Wyll quickly got used to not having a regular bed. He’d either be camping or he’d be offered shelter for his heroic deeds by the people who he helped. He probably enjoys camping quite a bit, finding the quietness of nature relaxing. Either that or he’s too much of an optimist to admit to himself that he misses having a warm bed. Wyll is also most definitely a morning person. Early bird gets the worm and all that. In fact he gets restless if has to laze around in bed for too long. Lastly, sleeping after he gets his horns is, if not a struggle, then at least something that takes some getting used to. For instance, he can’t lie down without a pillow. Not on his back. Not his side. Not his stomach. So pillows are a must, or at least just something that takes the strain off his head/neck while lying down.    
Karlach is probably the most restless sleeper of the gang. Not in the sense that she doesn’t sleep well—because she does—but she is a very animated sleeper, either kicking or punching the air, or she gets those weird twitches while dreaming. So unfortunately she’s not just a bad bed partner because of her body temperature, which sucks because she loves spooning before falling asleep. So, she’s either cradling Clive or her blanket for comfort. She also prefers sleeping in cold environments, which was fine when the group hadn’t reached Baldur’s Gate because when you’re outside then there’s always a draft. However the Elfsong doesn’t offer that same luxury, but at least she gets to sleep next to the window.
Halsin can also pretty much sleep anywhere, not because it’s practical, but because he’s always comfortable, at least when out in the wild. After all, the perk of bear form is that you’re well-padded for any surface. And he is a heavy sleeper. Give this man a good hearty meal, and he’ll sleep for 12 hours. This also means that any bed partner of his should be careful that they don’t get smothered under him, because if he is in deep sleep then you cannot wake him. He has also most definitely talked himself to sleep when telling his children goodnight stories before bed, only to then wake up and find that he’s the one that's been tucked into bed.
(If you’re interested in more bed thoughts then I also have this post)
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sylkethelabel · 1 year ago
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btdemaru · 1 year ago
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Chambers
Poseidon x GN!reader
Note : i don't see much posts about him and I'm willing to make some! also reader is human.
Warnings : overstimulation, bottom!reader, master kink, sadistic poseidon, oral sex (reader receiving), dacryphilia, spanking,
MINORS DNI!!
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Poseidon never showed any affection towards you, never held your hand, not even soft kisses in public. Never. He's too prideful and sucked up in the whole 'divine being' thing.
For years you put up with it, even other gods/goddesses felt bad and wonder why are you still with him. What they don't know is that secretly deep inside his dark chamber filled with luxurious items and silk sheets is where he showed affection.
You're sitting on the Gods lap as he sat by the edge of the bed, his fingers sneak their way through the hem of your expensive soft clothing, giving gentle kisses on your neck while leaving pretty reddish purple marks.
It all started there and hours later you're crying, sobbing as he continues to devour you, not giving any time to breathe as he catches another orgasm from you as Poseidon drink every single drop of your cum only for him to start all over again making you more sensitive then before. Thighs twitching, back arching as you plead for at least a five minute break.
Poseidon ignored those pleas "are you saying you're giving up? And here i thought you can do better to please your master." He teased, gaining pleasures from your tears as the tent in his pants grew bigger, and hell he was big. a little too big. You tried closing your legs saying that it won't fit and that it'll hurt too much. "Be quiet, I'll make it fit." His emotionless face glances up to you, no smile but a sadistic smirk creeps up onto his face.
Lining his cock on your hole before sliding it up and down just to tease you, making you plead for him to put it in only for Poseidon to give you a huge spank. You opened your mouth to complain but he pushed in with no warning roughly, not giving any time for adjustment Poseidon thrust deep amd hard but slow. His hand gripping your waist leaving his fingerprints and bruising it perfectly.
The kisses you share with the sea God was deep, passionate and heated. chasing his orgasm Poseidon picked up the pace, throwing your legs on his shoulder giving him more access for his cock to go deeper, your moans can be heard even outside his chambers and yet he only shared a few deep breath and grunts as if he's just doing nothing. Feeling the coil in your stomach released was euphoric, locking and clenching him in, milking every single last drop of his divine cum inside you as your own orgasm washed over.
Your whole body felt tired, exhausted and fatigued. You closed your eyes wanting to finally sleep and get a rest until you feel a sharp sting on your ass making you jolt back up only to find Poseidon's creepy grin. Something tells you that this will be a very very long night..
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typewritersensuite · 5 months ago
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𝙄𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙨
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word count: 1.5+k
warnings: longing lesbian love, fae girlfriend being literally so hot, shes like 5'9/5'10, she's a simp for you, blood play!!, pussy eating!!, she's dom😌, she's everything and you're just human, dirty talk.
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♡Living in a dead end village filled with plain men and a boring future was no way to live. You knew this. You woke up to this life on the daily. It was grating and exhausting pretending to care about courting any of the men that existed around you. From their beards to their breath, they repulsed you completely.
♡The women were always something to marvel at, yet the shaming eyes of the village chief forbid you from ever allowing you to be yourself. To be free. The longing glances you casted at the women were only ever met with a harsh gaze or a sad look. You could never act out on your desires. On who you truly were.
♡So one day, you packed your bag contained only the necessities that you needed. And left, heading into the dark forest that bordered on the edge of your village.
♡There were so many stories about the forest, how it was dark and enchanted. How monsters roamed. How faeries lived there, that there entire kingdom was hidden deep in the woods. But it didn't scare you. It excited you, it gave you a chance of a promising future something you were desperate for. It also meant to shaming eyes and a life of freedom to be who you were meant to be.
♡Eventually after hours of travelling through tall grass, marshy lawns, thorns and mangled trees, your exhaustion hit. After taking a drink of water from your flask, you rested against a trunk of a tree and soon were lulled into a peaceful sleep.
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♡When you awoke, you were no longer outside. Instead you were wrapped in silk white bedsheets that clung to you like a second skin. Pillows so soft they were practically pleading your name to lay your head back upon them. The room was incredibly... beautiful.
♡Black floor boards and golden fluffy rugs, a large vanity that was covered in perfumes and other strange bottles. A large mirror in the corner opposite to the open window that swayed the golden curtains. Swords mounted along the walls and books scattered around.
♡But before you could re catch your breath, the last bit of your oxygen was stolen from your lungs from the ethereal beauty that walked in.
♡Long, black silky hair, a pale face and golden brown eyes. All matched with a beautiful green silk dressed that hugged her body and made her look like a Goddess. The beautiful iridescent wings on her back shone in the sunlight and reflected on the walls almost like stained glass.
♡She smiles brightly at you and flutters over to you, her soft fingers closing your jaw. "you're awake." She coos softly.
♡And you turn into a puddle, a woman- a Fae so beautiful was here cooing over you. Her skin was so soft and her eyes were so impossibly cute.
♡"My name is Morgana, I'm the captain of the guards. You're lucky I caught you, you were almost swallowed whole by a Naga! It would be a shame to see your beautiful face torn up."
♡An absolute puddle. She thought you were beautiful.
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♡After spending a few months beside Morgana, you realised you had a lot in common. The passion to always learn, the need to always explore, the appreciation for beauty. And of course a mutual yearning.
♡It wasn't forbidden in the kingdom, infact it was a normal. The reason why you would cast each other longing glances was because you were mortal.
♡Morgana was already attached to you, and she wasn't ready to cross a line where she would forever be yours, just for you to leave her with your death. It wasn't fair.
♡Her kind often had one partner for life, yes they could be polygamous but every Fae had one partner. A life long best friend that they were always bound to, that they would always serve and crave. And Morgana hated that her chosen lover was you. A mortal.
♡So while you both shared a bed, tangled in sheets and limbs with soft words and adoration oozing off you, she would kiss you softly. Whispering about how long she had waited for you, how you were the most important thing to ever exist in her eyes.
♡When the morning rose, she would press a kiss to your forehead to wake you up before she fluttered away on her adventures.
♡Morgana was determined to find something, anything to keep you by her side for as long as she lived. She refused to live without you. She simply couldn't bare the thought of it.
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♡A few more months had passed and late into the evening after you had cooked dinner, you gaze out the window worriedly waiting for Morgana. But soon the beating of wings is heard and the front door is slammed open.
♡When you turn to go to her, she rushed towards you and presses her lips towards yours. And you see a peak of heaven, a true love, a true freedom. She moves her lips against yours desperately, her nails digging into your hips almost pleading for you to let her explore your mouth.
♡And who are you to deny this goddess that your adore so dearly. You open my mouth as you move your jaw against hers, your hands catching in her beautiful black hair. Her tongue eagerly searches your mouth, exploring the land and claiming it as hers.
♡Soon you two break away heaving, a line of spit connecting you. She gazes at you with desperate eyes, searching your eyes to understand her.
♡"What is it?" You breath out, you heart racing, terrified about what could occur.
♡"I found it. A way to keep you as mine forever. But my little seedling, it comes at a cost," she murmurs back. And when Morgana sees your questioning gaze, she steps forward and cups your cheek.
♡"There are a few things to seal this. But the cost is that you will forever be bound to me. More than most fae partners are. It means body and soul you are mine. Under my control, my whim." She whispers as she leans down and presses her forehead.
♡"It was yours from the start." You utter out, closing your eyes and embracing the moment. The closeness.
♡"Then, you have to trust me." She whispers again, stroking a strand of hair from your face.
♡"You never have to ask that, my love. I trust you with every breathe that leaves my lungs and I love you with every beat of my heart." You murmur.
♡She smiles, "come, let's go to bed." She coos as she tugs your small hand and leads you to the bedroom.
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♡Within seconds, you're laid on the bed. Your clothes have been torn off by Morgana and her skillful knife. Tearing them off like you were a present and you were a gift she had longed for.
♡Her soft hands massage your doughy thighs, while her lips press soft kisses to your neck. Marking and nipping down your neck to your collarbone until she reaches the valley of your breasts.
♡Her hands move and begin to gently rub your clit all while she kisses along to your breasts until she takes a nipple into her mouth and sucks it. She moves her fingers faster in a circular motion, while her tongue circles your nipple. Her eyes fluttering closed in delight at the sounds you make.
♡She kisses along your breasts to reach your other nipple, still circling your clit. She applies more pressure before she taps it, smirking at the squeak you let out.
♡She breaks away from your breasts as she straddles you naked. Her breasts heavy and beautiful. She takes her golden blade and cuts her soft delicate skin at the top of her left breast. "Drink." She commands in a breathy voice.
♡And soon enough you sit up and latch onto the cut, you drink her golden blood. Tasting the blood of your beloved, allowing yourself to be bound to her forever. You pull away and press a small, soft kiss to the cut.
♡When you gaze up at her, she normally coffee brown eyes are now black. Her pupils dilated with lust and she pins you back down onto the bed.
♡She kisses down your navel and stomach before marvelling at you heat, her pink lips almost drooling at the sight as her eyes devour the beauty before her.
♡"Such a perfect cunt. S mine. You know that right? You'll only ever spread your legs for me. This pussy is mine. This body? Mine. You? Mine." She utters out through clenched teeth before she leans forward and licks a long stripe between your folds.
♡She soon attaches herself to your clit, suckling on the sweetest nectar known. Her hands squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples as she feasts on the delight between your legs.
♡She moves a hand down to between your legs and works two fingers into your tight pussy. She moans at how warm you are, how tight you are. She nibbles on your clit before kissing it and licking it like she was dehydrated.
♡You can't help the squeaks that leave your throat, all the noises becoming sweet music to Morgana's ears. She scissors her fingers in you, rubbing against your gspot as she suckles hard on your clit.
♡You thrash as you cum hard, and after you lay limply. Morgana smiles softly at the slight. She slides her fingers out and licks them clean.
♡"My beloved, rest. I'll clean you up. You were magnificent. A beauty that I have waited forever for and one that destroyed all my expectations of beauty. You are bound to me, my most gorgeous love." She coos to you as your eyes close and you fall into the best slumber of your life.
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lucozadehulahoop · 1 year ago
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A question of time (Astarion x fem! tav/reader) part 1/?
Summary: Cazador gets his hands on the daughter (tav) of the Elven goddess Sehanine and a common mortal, hoping to manipulate the girl over time and obtain the favor of her protection while he prepares for his Ascension, during which he plans to sacrifice her to gain more power than any devil could ever promise him.
Unfortunately, as the plans for his Ascension become more and more concrete, his ward is summoned every night by the sweet cries of the most tortured out of all his slaves, and she cannot bear to leave his side.
Meanwhile, it has become increasingly obvious to Astarion that his Master does in fact have a weakness, a certain someone he keeps locked away and safe... there is nothing Astarion wants more than to snuff that little light out of Cazador's eyes, no matter if it's the last thing he ever does.
tags and TW pre-bg3! Astarion, slave!Astarion, mentions of torture and abuse, demi-goddess!tav, Cazador being all sorts of creepy, eventual NSFW (minors stay away kindly, thank you darlings)
Part 2 here ! Part 3 Part 4
I'll take you under my wing, Somebody should
-A Question of Time, Depeche Mode
Astarion had come to the conclusion that the excruciating torture Cazador imposed on him every night was becoming unbearable to the point he was now hallucinating.
It had happened three times now, always when he felt at his lowest. When he was so desperate and alone in his suffering, that he could only wish for someone to drag him out in the early dawn and leave him to burn alive, she would appear.
A clear figment of his imagination. A soul so ethereal yet warm, soft, and real. It made no sense for a creature like that to be down in the dungeons with the likes of him, her silk dress soaked from his own blood. Cazador was never really done with him until the entire floor was soaked in the thick red liquid.
Astarion had been afraid at first. He had never even seen her enter the room. She was just there, at his side. He'd made a feeble attempt to back away when she'd attempted to reach out for him. She had stopped herself in her tracks, and spoken to him softly. Astarion hadn't understood a word. He only knew this was another trick, another evil sent to punish him.
He'd passed out soon after.
The following night he'd realised he didn’t feel as weak as he usually did after a beating. He'd been healed. Somehow he'd even been granted a lavish pillow to rest his head on instead of the cold hard ground he was used to.
Alarmed, Astarion immediately did his best to hide it, using all of his strength to stuff the pillow behind a loose set of bricks in the walls of the dungeon. His master would not have been very forgiving if he thought one of his spawn had been stealing from him.
..☆..
A few weeks passed before the hallucination presented itself again.
It had been another terrible night and Cazador had decided Astarion needed to be sealed up in a coffin again.
Astarion cried like a babe. He begged his Master, promised to do anything for him, to give him anything he wanted. At some point he even attempted to convince Cazador to simply kill him once and for all. But it was no use, and soon he was sealed back into the darkness.
Astarion wondered how long he'd be left to rot this time. Another year? Two? What if this time Cazador simply... forgot about him? Left him to suffer his bloodlust and paranoia for all of eternity?
The world would move on, new cities would be built above his head and no one would be able to hear his cries—
Astarion almost jumped out of his bones in fear when the coffin was being opened up again. He was more than happy to take this little mercy from his Master in exchange of whatever other punishment he chose.
But it was not Cazador's face he ended up facing in the dark.
It was his angel, once again there to save him. Or more likely , as Astarion had been beginning to suspect, to lead him on to the next life.
This time he could see her more clearly. At first glance she might have been any other noble young lady from the city, the kind that had an array of suitors waiting outside her door. She looked like the type to make someone go mad from love or heartbreak, and Astarion was certain there were many out there already dedicating songs and sonnets to her beauty.
Yet her regal attire, while exquisite and fashionable, did not suit her. In fact, it seemed as if she were completely out of place wearing something so mundane. Something told him she wasn't exactly human, or elven for that matter. Her wide eyes were reading him like an open book, yet she did not say a word.
"Now, I don't know who you are..." Astarion warned, barely finding the strength to speak after an almost constant state of screaming and crying. "...or what you want with me... but I can tell you're not his. Because, if you were... you would know how dead we're both going to be when he catches you trying to get me out of here."
She attempted to speak, reaching out for a cut on Astarion's cheek. "You're —"
"You better get the fuck out of here, if you know what's good for you—" Astarion growled, snatching her wrist and squeezing it so tight, if she had been human it would have snapped in his hand like a twig. "And I trust you know how to board up this coffin again since you've been capable of roaming around a den of starving vampire spawn and making it out alive. Twice."
She gave out a wail of pain and Astarion finally let her go. He wasn't about to rot even longer than he had to in a coffin because of yet another reason that was completely out of his control.
The young woman stood there in front of him, undecided on what to do.
"I can't." She said, finally.
"But you will!" Astarion, roared, panicking about the very real possibility of Cazador assuming he'd managed to break out of his confinements himself. "By the hells! Put me back the way you found me and be on your way—"
"But you were crying—" She interjected.
"E-excuse you?" Astarion smiled uneasily, tilting his head to the side. What did this silly little girl think she knew about him?
"I heard you." The odd little thing in front of him answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You were calling out for help. You said, anything but the dark-"
Astarion's eyes burned with rage and hot tears. Suddenly he was stumbling out of the coffin, grabbing the woman by her frilly bloodstained clothes, and pinning her up against a wall. "You're here to doom me, is that it? You're some kind of faerie pulling a cruel joke on me, are you? Trying to give him even more excuses to hurt me. Is that it?" He panted frantically, straining his ears to pick up any signs of Cazador's return. "Here to feed on my suffering, are you?" Astarion attempted to grill answers out of her.
The supposed faerie did not seem concerned with the fact an unstable bloodthirsty creature currently had her trapped with no way of escape. She slowly reached for a huge gaping wound on Astarion's abdomen, and for a few moments he was transfixed by how quickly the flesh healed itself back together under his very eyes.
"I do not wish to bring you harm." She explained calmly. "I thought you would enjoy the freedom. He is away. And I promise to put you back as you were before his return."
Astarion shook his head and laughed maniacally. Freedom. His prayers had somehow been answered but he didn't trust the situation one bit. "Is that right, princess?" He taunted her. "And who just might you be to know the comings and goings of the Master of this house better than his own spawn?"
"He calls me his daughter."
..☆..
The revelation never left Astarion's head, even in the days that followed. Cazador... his heartless captor, his psychotic jailor, had a weakness. Initially, he'd thought about what it would have been like to take the life of Cazador's precious daughter right there and then, damned by the consequences.
But that would have been too easy. No, Astarion had finally stumbled upon something that gave him an edge over his Master, and his revenge was going to be carefully thought out. Sweet as can be.
Cazador had never mentioned his daughter to any of them so Astarion had no rules or commandments looming over his head. She was the perfect way to get revenge after almost two centuries of suffering. He just needed to be clever about it. He could not squander an opportunity like this.
The prospect of hurting Cazador made the torture much more barerable during the coming weeks. In fact, Astarion didn't know whether he was delirious or if all of that suffering was just feeding the fire burning inside of him more and more.
Once he'd been finally freed to go out and bring a new victim for Cazador to feast on, his plan he been set into action. Going out on a limb, Astarion assumed Cazador had tucked his daughter in the highest room of the tallest tower of his castle, where none could get to her and where she could never see the true horror of who her father truly was.
Under the cover of night, he scaled the side of the castle walls with nothing but some climbing tools and his own blessed agility. And as he did so, his mind was flooded with the same questions he'd been plagued with since the last night he'd seen the young woman. How was it possible that Cazdor had sired a daughter? What was the nature of her powers? They did not seem to have sliver of relation between them. And why, oh why, was she so determined to care for Astarion of all people?
Had Cazador set her on it? Was it all some sick game? Only one thing was for sure. Cazador had hidden the girl from everything and everyone, so at some fundamental level he must have cared for her.
That was all that mattered to Astarion. It was worth risking Cazador's eternal wrath just to see even a tiny sliver of pain in his eyes. A crack in his armor. And there was no doubt in his mind that would soon be true, just as soon as he found his daughter's lifeless body and her blood splattered all across the castle walls on his return.
"Are you stuck?" Her voice called out to him from her bedroom window as she looked down at him. Yes, Astarion had been slightly stalled by his thoughts. He looked up at her. Well, there went the element of surprise. He certainly was not planning on underestimating her. The girl had true power coursing through her veins.
Yet, he had not anticipated the scenario and now he was at a loss for words. A first for him. "No I was just, well I was—"
"Just close the window when you come up, okay? It's getting cold in here." She admonished him, before disappearing back inside. Astarion was a little taken aback. Had she known he was coming?
When he finally stepped into her chambers, he got a full understanding of just how capable Cazador was of spoiling and pampering someone he cared about. The room was lavish and spacious, almost every single item worth more than the average working person in Baldur's Gate could make in their entire lifetimes.
She was there, simply brushing her hair in front of the fireplace, almost completely uncaring about the fact a stranger had just invaded her private quarters.
Astarion let a dagger slip out of his sleeve, and only then did she turn around to look at him. He hated it, wishing he could have gotten the chance to kill her in her sleep or with a stab to the back, so he wouldn't have had to stare into those mesmerizing pools again.
"You won't hurt me, Astarion." She simply stated.
Astarion ground his teeth in anger. It really wasn't fair how perfect his name sounded on her tongue.
"I see his brat is not only spoiled, but entitled too. What makes you think you'll get out of this?" Astarion marched over towards her. "What makes you think your life will be spared against the countless others I've dragged to the grave in your father's name?" He snarled drawing his blade up to her perfect neck.
The sound of her pulse was enchanting and exhilarating at the same time. If he only could have, he would have gorged himself with her blood, sunk his teeth into her perfect flesh.
"Because... you're afraid the next time you call for help you'll be alone. For good." She answered honestly, seeing right through him as if he were made of glass.
The young woman had meant no offense, but Astarion took it nonetheless. In one swift move, he had a dagger to her throat, tears brimming in his eyes. He hated that she was right, but he was going to prove her wrong nonetheless.
"You think you're so smart, don't you love?" He sneered. "What? Were you so bored all couped up in your tower, you thought you could just have a little fun with one of your daddy's toys? That bastard's going to get what's coming to him—"
Suddenly, she was placing a hand over Astarion's mouth and cutting him off mid-speech. For the first time ever, Astarion saw the strange girl display concern in her features. No... it was genuine fear in her eyes.
"He's... he's down the hall." She whispered, more concerned with her father's arrival than the blade at her throat. Astarion dropped the weapon and froze, completely incapable of doing anything except await for his punishment in silence.
"What are you doing?" She fretted over him. "You need to leave!" The girl tried to put some sense into him but it was useless. Her attempts to drag him towards her closet were also fruitless.
Astarion was frozen, his eyes on the door and his ears keenly listening to Cazador's steps as they drew nearer.
___
AN: Let me know if you'd like part 2, comments are appreciated 🤧🥺
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thevirtualvalentine · 6 months ago
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TAPE SIX : DOWNWARD DOG !
Starring… ‘Black Leg’ Sanji 📸
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SET SCRIPT : “ooo what about sanji and yoga?”
MATURE WARNING(S) : smut, unprotected vaginal sex, dom!reader, mirror sex, yoga teacher!reader, student!sanji, handjobs, cunnilings, semi public sex, fingering, flirting, pervy!sanji, cum eating, femme!reader, minor cum play, “miss” used as a title, reverse cowgirl.
DIRECTORS CUT : for my first tumblr mutual @sanjisjuul !!!! I had to deliver the best for the ceo of Sanji. I got off that vc and started cooking in my drafts, I thought you’d enjoy the fic going in this direction. 🤭
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Sanji did not really know what to expect using his “1 free session of yoga” ticket that zoro ended up gifting him for his birthday (long story). At the very least he was hoping he wouldn’t be there alone. However, of course fate casts its cruel hand and he’s the only one there in the studio.
Occasionally, his anxieties will get the best of him. He began frantically pacing the floors like a mad man and sees you walk in, his entire mood does an immediate 180. Just a second ago he swore he would destroy Zoro, now here he was singing his blessings in fine tune.
“Here all by yourself handsome?” you say smiling while walking through the studio doors to set down your belongings. One thing you adored was teaching beginners how to practice yoga, but it is very rare to have a male student. Especially one this handsome.
To be fair, for all his womanizing it’s rare that Sanji is shown the same energy back. The second your sultry voice slipped past your plump limps and called him handsome, he thought he was going to start hyperventilating or maybe salivating on the spot. You are the most beautiful woman he thinks he’s ever seen in his life, bountiful curls tied up in a silk scarf, a matching set that accentuates your undertones, and a set of eyes that pierce straight through his heart.
If Cupid shot him, he wouldn’t mind one bit. “Is it really just me in here?” He asks turning around the room to see if anyone had appeared from thin air within the last second.
“Don’t be scared, I don’t bite hun,” a shiver runs down his spine, “I’m y/n, your yoga instructor for today, just gonna be me and you so let’s try our best!” You clap your hands in excitement as you queue up some music.
Sanji will try his upmost best to not freak you out with his habit of love bombing and undying adoration for the mere ground you walk on, but only if you knew what he was thinking, ‘A beautiful babe and so radiant, goodness you could be the sun itself… a perfect goddess here before my very own eyes. Thank you stupid moss ball, but only this once.’
As you begin to work with Sanji, you quickly realize he’s excelling at all the physical parts of yoga, just not the mental ones. So, while he may be able to hit the cleanest triangle pose you’ve seen a beginner do due to sheer flexibility, he can’t seem to relax or concentrate at all.
“Deeper breaths Sanji, relax for me honey.” Well, he can’t when you say things like that to him. He is pleased to know you can’t tell it’s a furious blush overtaking his face because he can blame it on exercise and perspiration.
“I—,” your place your hand on top of his diagram, squatting down so you’re eye level with him, “can’t..” the weight of your palm makes his heart rate sky rocket
“Let’s try something different then, yeah?” How could he deny you when you ask so nicely with a pretty smile? He nods, waiting for further instructions. Sanji is an excellent student, what a good listener.
“Kay, I want you to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. Try to breathe in, and out deeply.” You motion for him to follow you to the mats, sitting down behind him as he tries to find his centering.
You curve your body behind him like a puzzle piece, ‘helping’ him by placing your hands on him once more. “Mhm, yes. Just like that.” He’s supposed to be watching himself in the mirror, practicing his breath, not watching your hands essentially grope him. Fuck. He’s going to get hard, he can already feel the blood rushing there with the help of your hot breath on the back of his neck.
You keep talking him through it, pretending not to notice the unruly state you’re leaving him in. He shudders continuously, unable to regulate his bodily functions when your hands begin to trail down his abdomen.
“I can help you relax better y’know, just ask,” your teeth graze the shell of his eat and he can’t help himself from begging for your sweet beautiful mercy.
Sanji is a big man, but he utterly trembles in your hold. His hard cock out in broad daylight as you stroke him for anyone to see if they walked into the studio by chance. You have him practically sitting in your lap with his legs spread wide open, pumping his cock in your hand as you turn his head to kiss you sloppily. He’s panting into each kiss, barely making the timing because he can’t stop moaning like a whore.
“Fu—fuckfuckfuck, ngh— wait slower slower,” he chokes out, his balls feel heavier knowing you’re watching his every twitch and whine in the mirror. You are beautiful but oh so cruel and he loves it.
“Slower? Didn’t you just say you wanted me to go faster? You don’t seem to be very smart Sanji,” you continue to pump him up and down as he feels his orgasm rearing its head already, he hasn’t gotten to feel you, he can’t cum yet.
The way you tut your head to belittle him makes Sanji want to squeal out in mind-numbing pleasure, it was just so perfect. “I’ll cum!! D-don’t wanna,” he pathetically whines.
You decide you’ll reward him for his honesty, slowing your hand to bite the sensitive skin of his neck. “Then switch places with me,” you offer, letting your eyes meet in the mirror. The pad of your thumb swirls over his oozing tip waiting for an answer.
If it wasn’t for the fact he was catching his breath, evident from the steep rise and fall of his chest, Sanji would have already been behind you. “Yes, pl..please.”
He helps strip your shirt over your head, massaging your breasts lightly and twirling your dark nipples between practiced fingers. You sigh into his touch, letting your head rest against his shoulder, “I like it hard and fast, can you do that for me Sanji? I wanna make sure it’ll all fit,” you pur.
“Fuck me,” he whispers under his breath, he’s still leaking. Yet he’s no where near as drenched as you are when he slides your panties down your legs.
Pools of it running down your ass crack, he coats his fingers in the white translucent substance. “Help yourself,” you tell him, eyeing the way he plays with it between his fingers. He spreads its before sticking it back together. What a perv.
He almost gags himself trying to taste it all, desperate for the sweetness. He plunges his fingers into your sopping cunt, sticking one knuckle deep while testing the waters. He prods around trying to see what you like, when he finds the one that makes you tighten around him, he smiles; adding in another lithe digit.
You’re leaning against him for support as he works up his pace, pounding his fingers into you like clockwork. Once he starts he can’t stop the inertia, feeling his muscles burn in his bicep and forearm.
But it’s worth it, all worth it when he hears your guttural whines and praises. Your pussy rewards him with even more slick that he stops himself to taste, gorging himself on it. “Let me taste it please, I have to taste the real thing, miss please,” oh and he begs so sweetly.
With a nod he scrambles around to wrap his arms around your thighs, strapping himself to your cunt. His tongue is hot and heavy on your lower lips, lapping at anything he can. “Augg-ahhh Sanji! Oh my god,” you can feel your eyes roll back into your skull as you prop yourself up on your elbows for some stability.
But he doesn’t stop, exploring further, pressing his appendage at your entrance. The smooth ring of muscle no match for his hunger as his tongue guts through you. “It fe—fuck—els so good, don’t stop!” If anyone else needed to come by the studio you’re sure it would sound like murder with the way he was killing that cat, no mercy.
He’ll scissors his digits, press his greedy fingers against your gummy soft walls while sucking your clit. Then maybe prod at that spot that makes you go limp. He’s just so excited he is getting to make you feel good he didn’t even realize he was also moaning. You were just so addicting, he felt at peace.
He stops when he realizes you came all over his face, coating him in the residue that he begins to lick up like an obediently trained mutt. You’re gripping his scalp with your nails to stop him from overwhelming you as he hisses. The sight of him below your mound is enthralling, so you drag his face in your cunt to work off the aftershocks. Grinding into his plush pink tongue.
You decide you’ll mount him reverse cowgirl on your feet (with help of course), he holds your hip as you find balance. You feel him start to stretch your entrance, welcoming the painful burn. He’s long and skinny, hitting a spot inside you that has you saying, “oh fuck,” as you try to take more of him.
You watch yourself in the mirror, his inches disappearing behind your pussy lips, form crumpled over trying to selfishly fit him all inside.
But you keep going, needy to hear more of what you could pull out of Sanji. Bounce by bounce you pick up the pace, swallowing his cock with each clap of your ass.
The view was unreal, your thick curls beginning to fall down your back as you worked up a sweat. Titties bouncing up and down as you rock back n’ forth on your feet. “More! More! Please, need it so bad miss!” His hands help piston you on top of him, wanting to lend you whatever support you might need from him. He’s just hoping you can’t see the way his toes curl from how tight and wet you are.
You place your hands behind you on his chest for even more balance, the new angle making you feel even fuller than before. You both felt on fire, your hot breaths began to fog up the mirror as you made love on the floor.
Sanji, desperate to feel you even deeper, thrusts up to match your pace. It makes his cock drag just right on your clit and the pressure begins to build again in your stomach. It’s not like he’s much better though, a blubbering mess underneath you even if you can’t see his face, the desperation of his hips is evident enough.
A few moments later you’re both a sweaty and convulsing mess on top of each other as he makes you cum harder than before. It knocks the wind out of you as you shake in pleasure. Sanji is left whimpering underneath you, unable to pull out.
“So, same time next week?” You ask.
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lovelytsunoda · 6 months ago
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indecent exposure // liam lawson
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summary: some men should not be allowed to buy gag shirts when they go to vegas. liam lawson is not one of them. or, the liam face-sitting fic i've been ruminating on for months and never wrote.
pairing: liam lawson x female! reader
warnings: 18+!!! SMUT!!! porn with very minimal plot if i do say so myself. lots of double entendres for common police charges (disorderly conduct, indecent exposure etc.), liam refers to himself as 'agent lawson' and makes us all cringe with laughter. the actual face-sitting portion of the fic is really only a few paragraphs at the end lmao the foreplay was too fun with all the cop jokes-
author's note: somebody should take both my library card and every british detective show in existence away from me because this is what happens when i watch too many episodes of anything with a hot detective in it. never mind the fact that i binged lauren layne's new yorks finest series last year when i was snowed in and my classes were cancelled for almost a week
there was nothing that y/n loved more than coming home from a long day at work and taking her dress pants off. and her high heels, and her bra. typically this would be followed by a pint of ben and jerrys and a few episodes of 'grace and frankie'. sometimes it would be followed by a feel good eighties movie, or by her boyfriend ordering takeout and ravishing her while they waited for it to arrive.
all of these were good options, as far as y/n was concerned.
"hey babe!" liam shouted, darting across the hall from the small gym space they'd set up, to the master bedroom. "look what i found in the closet...jesus. you look gorgeous." he stopped in his tracks, eyes fixed on his goddess of a girlfriend as she stood in front of the gilded mirror next to the walk-in closet.
"you saw be before i left for work." she laughed, taking out the small diamond studs in her ears. they were a gift from liam for their anniversary. "all i've done is take off my slacks and bra, and undo my shirt a little bit."
but it wasn't the lack of pants that was getting liam all flustered, nor was it the way the collar of her silk work shirt dipped down just a little too far, the hem not quite long enough to cover the area where thigh met ass.
no, it was the black prada glasses that delicately framed her eyes. the eyes that had so captivated liam from the moment they met.
"if you ever decide to get contacts, i'm leaving you. seriously."
he wasn't serious in the slightest.
"the way you look in those glasses should be a crime. you're gorgeous, babe."
facing him, she laughed, hands on her hips. "i thought you threw that shirt out!"
she groaned internally, looking at the tight-fitting black cotton shirt that liam was wearing, and the cracking white vinyl lettering over his heart. fbi. a gag gift he had bought in vegas. it was too tight despite it's age, hugging each and every one of liam's muscles far too tight, and looking deceptively erotic when paired with his dark blue jeans.
"so did i! isn't it great?" he grinned like an idiot, spinning in a little circle to show off the writing on the back.
female body inspector.
who the fuck came up with these things? on any random guy in the street, she would have gagged at the vulgar implications of the words. on her boyfriend? she only rolled her eyes.
"there's a reason it went missing in the move, babe."
liam shook his head, ignoring her words. "ma'am, i'm special agent lawson from the federal bureau of investigations. i've received a complaint about disorderly conduct on the premises. and now that i'm here i might have to upgrade that charge to indecent exposure, little lady."
"you're such a fucking idiot." she giggled, looping her arms around her boyfriend's neck before kissing him softly. "i love you."
"love you more." he rasped in between kisses, his hands travelling underneath the hem of her shirt. "what do you say the two of us make a case for disturbing the peace?"
"if you make one more cop-related come on, i'm walking out that front door and never coming back."
liam flashed a shit-eating grin, raking his bleached blonde hair out of his face. "so does that mean you won't consent to a frisk search?"
"i will humor you this one time." she laughed, taking a step back. "take it away, agent. but you do realize that the fbi don't get to make disorderly conduct calls? that's a beat cop's job."
"i seem to recall that you have a right to remain silent?"
she winked, undoing another button on her shirt, the fabric falling away just enough to give liam a glimpse of the soft flesh of her breasts. "and i don't recall being read my rights."
"hands against the wall, feet shoulder width apart, you beautiful smartass." liam laughed, waiting for her to turn slightly before playfully swatting at her backside. "then i can read them to you."
the wall was cold against her palms as she got into position, listening half-heartedly as liam attempted to remember the american miranda rights. he got about as far as 'you have the right to remain silent' and 'you have the right to an attorney' before he gave up.
"you know what, this isn't that serious. fuck the right to remain silent, you have the right to remain sexy as fuck. how about that." she could hear the playful annoyance in his voice, and couldn't help the smile that broke out across her face.
there was the liam she knew and loved. not one to mince words, even in the bedroom.
his smooth hands were a welcome presence on her body, travelling up her legs, over her hips and up the sides of her torso. torturously slow, his warm hands dipped underneath her shirt, taking her breasts in his hands, her peaked nipples between his fingers.
heat rose to her skin, adding a rosy sheen in the halflight. she sighed under his touch, her head dropping back to rest on liam's shoulder. liam smiled fondly, one of his hands reaching for hers, the other dropping to cradle her waist.
"you're beautiful." he hummed, kissing her neck gently. "i hope you know that."
this was a side of liam that only she ever got to see. on the outside, he gave off frat boy energy: the hair, the way he carried himself. the way he spoke. but just under the surface, was a man who was wrapped around his girlfriend's finger. one who loved shamelessly, and with his whole heart.
pulling away from the wall, the turned in his hold to face him, tangling her hands in his hair and kissing him deeply.
"if you can get that shirt off without tearing a stitch, you can keep it."
liam beamed, breaking from the embrace to scramble for the hem of the worn t-shirt. he had almost gotten it over his head when he heard the first few stitches begin to pop, fabric getting stuck by his shoulders.
"fuck!"
"need some help with that?"
"i think i'm good!"
somehow they ended up on the bed, both half dressed and pent up. she was soaked through her thong, despite her earlier attitude towards the t-shirt and further proving the point that her lover looked good in just about anything (or nothing, for that matter). she was needy, every nerve in her body reacting to the way liam's tongue probed her mouth, the way his hands touched her body. the way he moaned when she pressed up against the bulge in his jeans.
"babe," he mumbled in between kisses. "do you trust me?"
she cocked an eyebrow, brushing his bangs out of his face before looking down at him "should i be worried?"
"do you trust me, yes or no?"
"of course, li. of course i trust you."
liam nodded. "good. so sit on my face."
she paused, almost as if her brain was sending up error messages. she knew this day would come. liam lawson would eat pussy any which way. truthfully, she was shocked this day hadn’t come sooner.
it wasn’t that she didn’t want to. of course she wanted to.
“babe, how will you be able to breathe? I’ll suffocate you.” she protested, reaching for his hand. “I don’t want that on my conscience.”
“sweetheart, it’s okay. you won’t hurt me. and if-god forbid-I do suffocate, trust me on this, I wouldn’t want to go out any other way than with your thighs on either side of my head.”
and with that, liam took her hands in his, and guided her towards where he needed her most. she looked down at him with a soft smile, running her fingers through his hair.
"i love you." she whispered, moving her hands to the headboard and beginning to lower herself down to meet her lovers tongue.
she inhaled sharply as she made contact, liam's plump lips mouthing at her pussy, her grip tightening on the wooden headboard.
"i've got you, princess." liam's voice was muffled, but his words were reassuring as he ran a hand up and down her thigh. "just ride my face, darlin'. use my tongue to get yourself off."
feeling bolder than she was when she first sat down, she began to grind on liam's face, his nose bumping against her swollen clit with each movement. every bit of friction, every swipe of liam's tongue drove her wild, was like setting fire to her nerve endings.
"oh sweet jesus, god." she whined, fighting the urge to close her thighs together around liam's head, focussing on the way his hands gripped her thighs in a bruising way. she looked down at his face and moaned again, seeing the pleasure mapped out on her boyfriend's features.
"oh, i'm in heaven." he moaned, pulling her down further to plunge his tongue inside of her, rapidly flicking it inside and out.
her eyes rolled back as her hips bucked, grinding against the tip of his nose as one hand came down to clutch at his hair. tears of pleasure pricked the corners of her eyes as she cried out his name.
"liam- right there, oh my god, keep doing that." she whined, trying to move her hips faster. liam's face was soaked, the entire bottom half coated in her juices. there was so much of it, running down the sides of his cheeks and soaking into the pillowcase behind him.
she felt so good she could barely see, screwing her eyes shut. her pants and whines became closer together and more high pitched, the movement of her hips more frantic as she chased that feeling, that high.
"are you going to cum for me, baby?" liam asked, pulling his face away from her. she continued to drip onto his face, and he opened his mouth wide, catching some of her slick on his tongue. "come on my face. please, i want to be drowning in it."
and how could she say no to that?
she could barely keep her shoulders straight as she resumed her motions, fingers gripping liam's hair to keep herself steady. his hands grasped desperately at the flesh of her ass cheeks, squeezing and massaging as one of her own hands came up to grasp at one of her tits, teasing the peaked nipple between her fingers.
"oh god, liam, i think i'm coming!"
"i've got you, i've got you. just breathe-"
his last word was cut off with a moan as she began to gush, coating his face in her release. his moans were muffled by the weight of her body, but they were no less loud as he set about licking her clean.
her legs felt like jello and her body like mush as liam tried to sit up, easing her body back so that she was sitting in his lap, wet core right over top of the massive bulge in his jeans. liam was certain that if she moved at all while she was on top of him, he'd come in his jeans. totally spent, she slumped against him, resting her head on his chest.
he leaned down to kiss her sweaty forehead and she scrunched up her face. she looked adorable in her fogged-up glasses with her messy hair. and liam couldn't stop his heart from melting as she reached for the box of tissues in the nightstand and began to clean up his face.
"that was incredible." her voice was soft as she cleaned him up. "i had no idea you could do that."
"don't give me all the credit." liam laughed, playfully nipping at her fingers as she moved to wipe his mouth down. "you played a very large part in why i'm still hard right now."
she laughed, a big smile on her face as she looped her arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him softly. with his large hands holding her in place, they kissed again. sweet, chaste and soft, with no intention of it leading anywhere else.
at least, not this early in the evening.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @lorarri @userlando @diorleclerc
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ashprince-of-bel-air · 7 days ago
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To Love An Emperor: Part 2
*sigh* all roads lead to smut, I am not a strong woman, I will give the public (and myself) what they want, because I know you guys are as thirsty as I am.
Part one Part 3
The kiss was rough and passionate, Caracalla’s hands were pressing your face against his, ensuring you could not move away from him, scared that you would disappear if he was not holding you. You could feel the desperation in his kiss, it was as if he could not get close enough to you, wanting to feel every inch of you against him. His mouth was rough against your own, he was impatient and craving more from you, he wanted to feel how much you truly loved him.
Eventually his hands released your face and travelled down your body, savouring every curve that was hidden beneath your gown, groping at every piece of you that he could. Once his hands were upon your hips he lifted you and pushed you back onto the bed. Laying before him, completely at his mercy. Caracalla paused for a moment as he took in the image of you, dishevelled yet radiant, in his mind you were putting the goddesses to shame with your beauty. Geta may have the upper hand and control in political matters, but he would never have someone so beautiful laid before him, someone so willing to please.
You felt Caracalla’s body press against your own, feeling his length against your thigh made you moan slightly, you had lain with Caracalla many times, each was better than the last, like he was learning how your body worked, wanting to please you; hoping it would make you love him more. You could feel his face buried in the crook of your neck, his lips tasting every inch of your skin. You felt a lone tear drip onto your neck as he spoke “You love me don’t you?” Caracalla’s voice cracked as he spoke, the words coming from his mouth between desperate kisses against the soft skin of your neck.
Your heart ached for him, you weren’t sure if it was love that you felt but you wanted him to be happy, to feel peace for once. At first you comforted him out of obligation as his future wife, yet now you longed to be the one to soothe him, to wipe away his tears and take his pain away. You tangled your hand into his hair, pulling him even closer to you now, letting him devour more of your skin. “Of course, my Emperor” Your words were like sweet nectar to him, he was your Emperor and only he could have you. Many things in life Caracalla had to share with his brother, but not you, you belonged to him, you were now his property. He thought more of you than that though, you were his confidant, the one he could unburden himself to, someone to soothe his aches and bathe with him after a long day, you were more than property, something his brother would never understand.
Your words had ignited something within Caracalla, calling him ‘your emperor’ always made him feral for you and you knew it. In an instant his teeth were grazing your neck whilst his hands were tearing your clothes away from your body, he was desperate now to feel your skin against his own. It did not take long for him to free you from the silk dress that was covering you, one strong rip was all it took before you were bare before him. The goddess Venus herself could have laid naked before Caracalla, yet he would not have looked upon her with the same reverence that he gave you. You were truly a vision before him, he had seen and devoured your body many times now and every time it was like the first time he was seeing you, gazing upon your naked form and committing it to memory.
His own robes did not last long, you helped him pull them over his head and cast them aside, not caring where they land, passion had taken you both now. Your skin tingled as his hands roamed your body, breathless still at the feeling of his lips against your neck. Caracalla’s hand moved its way down your body to your core, groaning internally at the wetness between your legs for him, knowing that only he could make you feel this way. You gasped slightly as you felt his fingers press inside you, arching your chest into him, wanting to feel his skin against you.
“I am yours, and you are mine” Caracalla whispered these words into your ear as his fingers warmed you up for him, ready to take him properly. You shuddered as he whispered to you, desperate to please him. Caracalla removed his fingers from you, a feeling that made you whimper before him, desperate to have him fill you and pleasure you the way only he could.
You felt the cold rings on his hands over your skin, his hands roaming your body and gripping every bit of flesh that he could as he pressed into you. A small gasp escaped your lips as you felt him stretch you, no amount of warming up would ever make you ready for him. Caracalla chuckled at your gasp, you felt his lips upon your chest, feeling his smile against your skin. His rhythm was steady, wanting to enjoy the feeling of you beneath him. You pulled his face towards your own and kissed him passionately, the pleasure now starting to rise within your body, needing him to bring you to climax.
Your body was like heaven to Caracalla, you soothed his emotions and his needs. This time he would mark you with love bites, he wanted to show that you were his, his teeth and lips moving desperately upon your skin, devouring you wherever he could. All his life he had to share with Geta, but not now, you were his, laid before him and taking him like the good wife you were soon to be.
Your back arched and you pressed your body towards Caracalla, hungry to feel his skin against yours as he thrusted into you, almost at the precipice of your climax. You raked your nails down his back, trying to hold him close to you as you came, your walls pulsed around him whilst you moaned softly in his ear. Caracalla buried his face into your neck, you could feel his moans vibrating against your skin, knowing he would cum soon.
You felt a breathless moan against your neck as he fell on top of you, the energy spent from fucking you. You felt a wetness on your neck as he held you close to him, unsure if it was sweat or tears, you chose not to press the matter and held him back, kissing the top of his head and telling him that you loved him.
For the first time you both spent the night together, laid naked in bed, your limbs entwined. You may not have loved him at first or enjoyed the fact you were betrothed to him, yet now you would not wish to be parted from him. He had his anger and issues, but you wanted to be the one to bring him peace, in this life and the next.
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