#love the embroidery on your pants!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I need you to know that every time I see your personal cat in cowboy boots I am driven once more to embroider it onto a denim jacket. I still have one pair of your cats saved as a reaction image because they convey such an emotion.

Whether or not you go through with it, the mental image has enriched me more than you can imagine.

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other��s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Aegon x niece! reader (Rhaenyra’s daughter) smut please! Aegon has always been in love with her and manages to convince Alicent and Viserys to let him marry her. The reader is just as in love and when they get married, thwir wedding night is full of love and passion and 🫦. Aegon hugging her tight while fucking her and reader whimpering and moaning in his ear 🤌🏽

I received so many requests these past days and got inspiration for a lot of them (14!!), so expect more very soon <3 I'm trying to include everything (smut, angst, action)

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, p + v, loss of virginity

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Standing in the Great Sept of Baelor, your eyes couldn’t stray from Aegon. Blood was dripping slowly from his bottom lip after being cut after being cut and smeared on his forehead. His frizzy hair had been tamed and the cold of his clothes made the blue of his eyes stand out. 

A dagger was handed to you to cut your palm with. You hissed slightly, watching as blood seeped out. You held your hand away from your pretty dress, not wishing to dirty it with blood, then passed the dagger to Aegon who did the same. He clasped his hand with yours, your blood mingled together as a blood silk was wrapped over your joined hands. 

Queen Alicent wanted Aegon to marry following the Faith of the Seven, but he insisted on Valyrian tradition as the bond by blood was unbreakable. 

‘’Blood of two, joined as one. Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time or darkness and light,’’ the officiant said, reading from an old book. 

Aegon could feel his heart racing. He couldn’t wait to call you his wife, to walk around court with your arm looped around his. And to no longer have a chaperon following you everywhere. It was so annoying. The only times you were able to be alone together was when you would elope on your dragons. 

If your parents thought a chaperon would stop you from sharing kisses and letting your hands wander to places they should not be, they were mistaken. 

The officiant finally allowed you to kiss, and every part of Aegon ached to shove his tongue into your mouth and kiss the life out of you in front of everyone. But he restrained himself, settling for a kiss that would be just enough to make your cheeks flush. 

When the ceremony came to an end, everyone was bright back to the Keep. You rode a carriage with Aegon and your little brother, Joffrey, which you suspected was a scheme by your parents to make sure no sexual activities would happen in the carriage. 

Aegon's hand was resting on your thigh, and he leaned in to whisper in your ear. ‘’This is so frustrating. They really did this on purpose, didn't they?’’ 

‘’It’s not entirely a bad thing. I wouldn’t want you to crease or stain my dress before the feast,’’ you said, smoothing the shimmery white fabric of your dress as you fawned over the gold embroideries. You had never seen a more beautiful gown.  

Aegon smiled smugly, thinking back to your last dragon ride together and the kisses you shared in the clearing…and his hand that slipped into your riding pants. ‘’Little does these fools know, we’ve played them before.’’ Smirking, he leaned in again. ‘’You know what kind of effect you have on me, wearing that dress. Especially knowing what's underneath.’’ He gave your thigh a little squeeze, his hand starting to move upwards just for a moment.

You quickly covered his hand with your own, stopping him. ‘’Stop it. Not here.’’ 

You looked over and saw Joffrey sitting on the opposite seat. Luckily, the boy was too preoccupied staring out the window to notice anything.

A sigh left your husband’s lips. ‘’I don’t want to wait until tonight. I won’t be able to.’’ 

Thankfully, the journey to the Red Keep was short. The doors to the carriage were opened and Aegon stepped out first, then offered his hand to help you out. He took a moment to let his eyes roam over your body, his gaze hungry. Before he could say anything, you pulled him towards the castle and to the throne room where the festivities would be held. Inside, the room was decked out with gold drapes and beautiful flowers — nothing less for a royal wedding. 

The music began as you and Aegon made your first entrance together, your arm linked to his. He had promised to not let you fall in front of the lord and ladies. The guests cheered as you both made your way down the grand aisle, to the large table where your families stood, waiting for you to begin the feast.

As the night went on, you danced and ate cake and indulged in more wine that you would allow yourself to help with the nerves later. You were dancing with Helaena and laughing when you felt an arm snake around your waist and wet lips on your neck.  

You leaned into Aegon’s chest and Helaena took this as her cue to find another dance partner. 

‘’Do you think they will notice if we leave the festivities early?’’ he whispered in your ear, having enough of this feast and wanting to be alone with you. 

You glanced around, searching for your parents. They seemed all involved in conversations with other lords and ladies, but one last pair of eyes was on you: Otto Hightower. Since he caught you kissing in an alcove when you were five and ten, he had been following you and Aegon like a hawk, disproving of your courtship.  

‘’If you can find a way to escape your grandsire, I’ll follow you,’’ you replied. 

Aegon’s laughter mixed with yours as you were running to Megor’s Holdfast where the royal chambers were. It felt like all the times you slipped away from court together to avoid being caught.  

As soon as the door of Aegon’s chambers closed, his lips were on yours and his hands were all over you, grabbing and pulling with a hunger that made your pulse race. The urgency in his movements left you breathless, your body responding instinctively to his touch. 

Clothes were taken off in haste, allowing your lips to kiss more skin. You threw your head back and moaned softly, nails sinking into Aegon's milky skin as he kissed down your neck and to your bared breasts, giving them the attention he's dreamed of. 

‘’Aegon, please,’’ you whimpered, feeling his erect cock prod at your lower stomach. 

He pressed a last kiss to your nipple and nodded, walking you back to his bed. You crawled up to the pillows, making yourself comfortable. Aegon joined you, hovering over you, and studying your flushed face for a moment, before he bent down to kiss your lips again.

You were thankful that your mother had opposed the humiliation of a bedding ceremony. You would never have been able to relax under the eyes of men standing around the bed, waiting for blood to mark the sheets. 

While you were distracted by his kiss, Aegon moved a hand between your bodies to play with your cunt a little, helping you relax and prepare you for his cock. His girth was larger than the fingers he’s inserted before and he didn’t want to hurt you. 

It would be a lie to say you didn't feel anything when he slid into you. The pain was unlike anything you felt before. Seeing the tears prick in your eyes and your pained face, Aegon was quick to sooth you with sweet words until the pain subsided. 

His first thrusts were slow and overwhelming. It was a kind of pleasure you never experienced before. 

‘’I love you, Aegon,’’ you said, seeing stars when he reached a particular spot.

He kissed you sweetly. ‘’I love you.’’ 

You hugged him tight while he moved his hips, his ears blessed by your whimpers and moans.  

A chill blew from the windows, refreshing the warm air after your entercourse. You shivered, clinging to Aegon under the sheets. He closed his eyes, ready for a night of sleep, when your voice stirred him.

‘’Can we do it again?’’ you asked in a whisper, your head resting on his chest while bathing in the afterglow.  

Aegon grinned at the ceiling, thanking the gods for giving him a wife that was just as horny as him.

—

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[shurikthereject]

I've been re-reading A Hobbit's Gamble by CQueen on ao3 for the third time now and it had me imagining what Bilbo's clothes would look like if he stayed in Erebor and became Thorin's consort. I decided to create a balance between Hobbit and Dwarvish fashion for these two outfits, one being for the outdoors and the other for indoors. That being the the jacket, waist coast and capri pants mixed with capes and belts. The colour palette also become handy in creating that balance. I mixed Hobbit's bright colours and Durin's blue,which represents his statues in the royal family (This is also Thorin's favourite part of his outfits). It is often discussed how flowers and plants are important to Hobbits and with that I added embroidery of different flowers with meanings that are compatible with Bilbo. The flowers on his head are mostly just a replacement for a crown for day to day. Please comment if I should add something, I love reading your ideas!

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

FANTASY

Based off of this! post.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader Summary: you surprise Eddie by dressing up as an elven princess from Dnd. Warnings: 18+ SMUT kissing, fingering, unprotected PIV (please be safe out there), oral (f receiving), body worshipping, teasing, a little nipple play, orgasm denial A/N: I have played Dnd once in my life, I do not know everything about it so please correct me if I get anything wrong about it.

Eddie sat up in bed re-reading the Lord of the rings The Two Towers for the millionth time as he waited for you to join him.

it was the first night of your honeymoon and it had been a long day and Eddie had done nothing but pepper you with love the whole day, being the gentleman he is and showed you exactly why you married him

you had been in the bathroom for quite some time, not that Eddie had seemed to notice, as he stuck his nose in a book he can't put down until you cleared your throat

he looked up to see you and his eyes widened as he got the sight of you leaning against the door frame with a seductive smile on your face

you were dressed in an elegant, fantasy-inspired gown in various shades of green, becoming darker as the skirt flows down, adorned with gold embroidery with a flowing chiffon cape that drapes over the shoulders.

your hair was down with a single braid tucked behind an elf ear you had placed on, and a golden headpiece atop your head.

you perfectly resembled an elven princess from Dungeons and Dragons, and he let his copy of TOTR fall from his hands and land on the floor by the bed

"Suilad ennas nin bein adan plural edain" you spoke, tilting your head mockingly as Eddie gulps and tries to find the words to say to you

He can already see it, your body on top of his, tangled in the sheets as you moan his name in pure bliss as he pleases you nicely.

the tent in his pants grew as he thought about what he would do to you.

you were the prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes on, and it was all for him, for his benefit and dick seemed to understand that as it rose in his pants, so hard it was uncomfortable and almost painful.

he needed to have you; he needed to ravish you right this second after ripping the dress off your body, he needed to fill you up so good that it would risk getting you pregnant, and he wouldn't mind, not if it meant he could think back to this night.

he wanted it so bad, and he could tell you knew that as you smiled cockily, taking small strides towards him on the bed, your leg peeking out of the high slit in the skirt of the dress.

he wanted to sink his teeth into your plush skin just hard enough to leave a mark, he wanted to tear the dress to shreds whilst still on your body, leaving you look a mess, though you'd still be as stunning as now, stood in front of him.

"Holy shit" he mumbled to himself as he shifted in his place, unable to find the words to express how good you look, how much he wanted to tear you apart and fuck you until your dumb

but just as he leaned up and tried to kiss you, you stopped him

you pulled out a pair of dice from inside the bodice and dropped them onto the bed sheets beside him

"if you want to kiss me, you're gonna have to roll" you smirked, seeing his whole body twitch in anticipation and need

he looked up at you, the fire in his eyes made you feel weak in the knees as he adjusted himself, rubbing over his boner to ease the growing pain of eagerness

he fumbled over picking up the dice. looking at you before rolling it onto the bed sheets

he mumbled in victory before pulling you down and bringing you into a passionate, much needed by him kiss.

you find a comfortable position as he placed you on his lap, his hand finding its way onto your thigh, gently rubbing your skin, sighing at the feeling of your lips dancing together

his hands moved up, following the curve of your hips up to the bodice of your dress, cupping your breasts in his hands, managing to give them a squeeze before you pulled away, humming

"What do you want to do next?" you asked him, crawling off on his lap

he frowns as he thinks "I want to...take off your dress?"

"Then roll" you whispered in his ear, smiling as he shivers

he picked up the dice and rolled it, praying to the gods he got over a ten, wanting nothing more for the dress to come off so he could worship your perfect body

he cursed to himself when it landed on a two, looking up at you with innocent eyes, making you fake a pout

"looks like that'll have to wait, big boy" biting your lip, internally laughing at his face, laced with disappointment

He frowns "can we continue kissing?" He blinks, looking down at your lips

You pretend to think for a moment, tapping your chin, humming "mm. Let's ask the dice"

He grabbed the dice from beside him and rolls, immediately grabbing your chin, pulling you down, you didn't even have time to see what he got before you melted into the kiss, he slides his right hand down your chin to your waist. Pulling you down onto the bed beside him.

You open your eyes, taking a sneak peak at the dice on the other side of his leg. Pushing him away

"Eddie! That was a miss! You don't get to kiss me!" You faux anger before dropping your voice, your fingers trailing his chest, right over the O in 'dio', your fingertips running over the letter

"Does someone need to be punished for lying?" You tut, leaning in and whispering in his ear

He lets out a whimper, secret be told- he likes seeing you have such power over him, he likes being told what to do- he finds it so attractive on you, seeing you in such a way is making him so hard that he's finding it hard to focus when your tits are right there, in front of him, calling out his name, begging to be sucked on so nicely.

He can already hear the sounds of your pretty moans as you let him fuck you. He can see it, your tits bouncing as he pounds into you mercifully, showing you his frustration for teasing him, for making him wait, for making him roll a pair of dice just so he can touch you.

Eddie shakes his head "n-no I- I'm sorry I won't do it again"

He knows your version of punishment in this situation won't end in an orgasm on his end- he won't even be getting teased- your punishment will be nothing, you'll sit there, letting him learn his lesson for lying to you, letting him know what he did and that he should regret it. So he would rather not get that punishment tonight

"Why shouldn't I?" You tilted your head, almost mocking him

"Please? I- I know what I did was wrong" he looked down

You drag your hand over his legs, pressing against the tent in his pants before moving on, reaching for the pair of dice before picking them up, ignoring his sigh as you touch him

"Let's see if the dice thinks I should forgive you"

You roll the dice and smile "looks like it's your lucky day"

You asked him what he wanted to do and he tried again with taking off your dress, rolling the dice.

He looked over at you with his big doe eyes and a smile, you leaned over him, making sure the roll was a hit.

You raised your eyebrows. Slowly rising from the bed before standing in front of him.

You reach for the zipper on the side on the dress, letting it fall down your body as you stand in front of him, leaving you in only the cape and a matching green lingerie set.

You were so perfect, so pretty, so fuckable.

He shifts on the bed, leaning closer to the edge

You go closer to him, climbing onto his lap, smirking at his desperate face as he stares at your breasts right in front of his eyes

You lean in, placing a kiss on his lips. He runs his hands along your back, his thumb going under the clasp on your bra as his other hand reaches up and unclosed the Cape, taking the mesh away from your soft skin.

Before he has a chance to unclasp your bra, you stop him, slapping his arm away

You tut again, forcing the dice in his hands

"You forget about my little friends?"

He groaned and rolled it, he's so hard he's co fused as to why you haven't said anything, like you usually do, teasing him about the way he gets turned on just for you

He unclipped your bra and threw it across the room

Your run your hand through his hair as you slowly grind on his lap, subtlety rolling your hips against him

"What next baby?" You bite your lip, holding the back of his neck as you lean in, nibbling on his ear, loving the way he shivers against your touch

"I- I want to touch you...them" he mumbled, sounding almost hungry as he stares at your bare tits in front of him

he rolled the dice and instantly attached his hands to your breasts, giving them a little squeeze, his ears perking up as he heard a gasp fall from your lips as he pinched your nipples. they were always so sensitive against his rough padded fingertips teasing them, and the noises you made as he pressed his thumbs against them were so pretty, so pretty that he might say it was his favourite noise, music to his ears, he's said before.

the buds of your nipple were hardened against the hotel room's cold air and he smiled to himself as he thought about taken them into his mouth, licking and sucking on them as you whimpered and moaned his name, he knows you wouldn't be happy, not rolling the dice before making a move but he couldn't hold it in anymore, the swell of your breasts looking so appetizing to the point Eddie's almost drooling.

So he brought your right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he squeezed your other tit, smiling to himself as you whimpered when he bit down on the sensitive bud of your nipple

you mumble his name as you feel his hot tongue swirl over your breast, it feels so good that you don't have the power to stop him, you should give him this for being so good for you, and right now he's being so good.

he hums against your breast, still sucking and nibbling, now just moving to the left, sending vibrations through your body as your close your eyes, your hands finding his hair as he massages the soft skin of your chest.

you begin to grind on his lap, feeling his hard cock against your clothed heat, slowly growing wet, feeling the patch soaking your lace panties as you rub yourself against the rough fabric of his jeans.

"you're so beautiful" he mumbled as he pulled away for a moment before latching his mouth onto your neck, licking and sucking your sweet spot, being sure to leave his mark on you.

he nibbles on your collarbone as he hears a content sigh leave your lips before you find the strength the fight him, remembering the whole game of this

"who said you could do that?" you frown, glaring at him

he looks into your eyes with blown out eyes, looking like he's in a trance as he gaze lowers down to your plush lips.

in any other situation, he would have felt bad, he would have apologised and begged for forgiveness for going against you, but Eddie couldn't find it in himself to say sorry about it, cause he wasn't, why should he be sorry for wanting you underneath him, open for him as you moan his name

so he made the bold decision to ignore you, pressing a desperate kiss to your lips as he pushed you down on the bed, laying you flat on your back before pulling away

"I'll play your little game, but you're not in control here, doll"

before you could protest, he shoved two fingers in your mouth, making you hum in confusion

"Suck" he ordered as he picked up the dice, swearing under his breath before you giggled, gagging when he shoved his fingers deeper down your throat.

he went back to kissing your neck, sucking the places he hadn't only a few seconds prior. you had closed your eyes, relaxing on the bed as he began to use you, without your knowledge, Eddie had rolled the dice, trying again before taking his fingers out of your mouth

the string of spit connecting your lips and his fingertips before snapping when he pulled away too far, bringing his hand down your body, digging his hand into your lace panties, pressing his now soaked fingers to your clit, earning a gasp from you and you opened your eyes, seeing him shift down the bed, you feel his hot breath brush against your skin as his fingers hook around your underwear, pulling them down slowly, placing kisses down your body, gently biting at the skin of your hip as he removes your underwear, pulling them all the way down, flinging them across the room before planting wet, sloppy kisses over your lower stomach, rubbing the skin under your boob with his thumb as he rang his other hand back to your bare core, rubbing his fingers flat through your slick folds.

as you look down, lazily smiling at him loving on your naked body, you frown, noticing he has all his clothes on still.

"Eddie" you breathe, hearing his groan as he continues to pamper your body.

you reach down and pull at the collar of his shirt "take it off, baby"

"oh Elven Princess, Patience is a virtue" he tsks.

he chuckles under his breath as he begins slowly circling your clit, his fingertips gliding with delicious friction over the sensitive bud.

"this what you wanted, Princess?” he cooed, his voice mockingly sweet. You could feel his warm breath fan over you as he moved closer.

He couldn’t stop himself. he couldn't help but lean in and flick his tongue over it just once, just the slightest touch, and you let out a broken moan and wiggled under his touch.

He inhaled deeply, smelling your intoxicating scent.

he looked up from your pussy and made eye contact with him as you leaned on your shoulders, staring at him while he rubs over folds, not yet going in.

Eddie wrapped his plush lips around your clit and started to flick his tongue over the bud at a painfully slow pace.

You gasped and gripped the neat bedsheets. he always was good with his tongue.

His mouth was hot and wet, and the way he was looking at you with such love and lust, made the tightness inside of you start to grow in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie was in on cloud nine as he buried his face in your pussy, drinking your delicious and sweet taste.

With one hand on your hip, keeping you from wiggling around, he slid one of the fingers of his other hand into your throbbing entrance. Slowly, before adding another, not giving you any time to adjust before he carefully pumps.

He chuckled when you moaned at the feeling of him stretching you open.

you whined, gasping at painful stretch of your delicate skin he is currently abusing.

you squeezed his fingers so nicely, feeling every ridge and hearing every squelch as he curls his fingers inside you, his lips still attached to your aching clit, sucking harshly.

Soon the only sounds in the room were the wet clicks of your pussy, and your soft moans as you let your head fall onto the pillow beneath you, your eyes rolling back when he squeezed your hip

Eddie laid his tongue flat and wide as he lapped up your pussy and you couldn't help but whimper at the feeling.

Eddie’s cock throbbed in his tight jeans, so uncomfortable as he grinded against the mattress, trying to give himself the friction he so desperately needed as he ate your pussy so well for you

"Eddie.. I- mm...i'm gonna cum" you moaned sinfully

Eddie pulled away after humming, his fingers still pumping inside you, gaining speed to replace his tongue

"let's see if the dice wants you to, ay?" he growled, releasing your hip and grabbing the dice

"do you, dice, want this elven princess to cum f'me?" he asked the dice before rolling

you were in a trance, tightening your walls around his thick fingers as he pumped, too focused on trying to cum that you barely heard what your husband was saying, his voice sounding like a distant hum.

you let out a broken moan as you felt the tightness start to let go be tuts

"dice says no, sweetheart" he said, pulling away, making you whine and your whole body shiver as the tightness fades, leaving you frustrated

"what? no, please" you beg before looking beside you at the dice, frowning

"Eddie that was a hit?!" you huffed in slight anger

"was it? must've mistaken it- woah!" you said before you pushed him away, flipping him over so he's on his back

"you were never in power here, weakingling, the dice controls us" you glare at him

he stared up at you as you climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, you lean down to kiss him and just as your lips meet and he lean in, his eyes fluttering shut, you stop, tilting your head to the side, you grab his chin and point his head to the side as you bite his earlobe, steadying your breathing as your pull away, pulling him in for a kiss,

your press your lips against his before leaning away, biting his lip as you pull away, letting go to see his lips bounce back

"don't play with me, commoner. you don't know what i can do to you, what i will do if you play with me, so sit back and be a good boy for me, understand?" you question him fiercely

he nods his head as you pull his shirt over his head, taking it off befoe throwing it away, staring at his tattoos littering his body of show for you

you place your hands on his chest and lean down, playing a kiss on every tattoo on view, hearing his breath hitch when you place a delicate kiss to his newest addition you had only found out about a week after he got it, a few months ago, right below his right collarbone, over his heart was laced with a fine line ink, confirming the date on your wedding, it was so gentle, contrasting against every other tattoo on his body.

you had cursed at him for getting it, and he had questioned you for your hesitation, saying 'think we won't last? honey I'm planning on keeping you forever, js'wanted to have a bit of us on me forever'

it was crazy to think that was almost 6 months ago, you had been so stressed with planning and wanting every aspect to be perfect. and now, a day in to being married to him, your heart warming at the little touch of writing, a promise of commitment that he couldn't get rid of it he tried

Eddie's dick was still so hard, he could feel the precum staining his boxers until he was whining

you sucked on his skin, going up all the way to his neck, wanting nothing more to mark him. your hands find their way to his pants and fumble to undo his fly and push down his pants with the help of him, kicking the jeans off, the only thing keeping you from sitting on his pretty cock was his thin boxers.

you grind your hips on his, creating some sort on friction, you push him up so he would lean against the headboard, sitting up but still laying down.

his hands find your hips and guides your movements until you smack his arms away

"how dare you touch me without the permission of the dice" you spat

it gave you a rush, giving him orders and telling him off for things, you had done it before yes, but it always felt so good, giving you a thrill knowing it turned him on so good, he loved it, and he was never scared to show it

you gripped onto his hair and forced him to look into your eyes as he stares down at your tits bouncing

"You want these off, don't you?" you reach your hand down, snapping the elastic of his boxers on his skin as you pull them back

he gulps and hums out a response "uh-huh" he mumbled

"Beg for it" you howl, lowering your voice as you stare down at him

"Please take them off, I'll be good-" he starts before you cut him off

"don't beg me, beg the dice" you hold the dice in front of him

he sighed, looking down at the small shapes in your hand "please let her take my boxers off, I won't disobey you again" he pleaded

you roll the dice on his chest and grin wickedly

"Looks like the dice answered your calls" you huff before pushing them off his body, letting them roll to the side of him on the bed

you left yourself up and push his boxers down his legs, letting them fall off the side to the floor, you sit on his thighs just below his cock that sprung out, being let free from the aching pain of being stuck inside harsh fabric.

the precum leaking from his swollen tip is what sends you into a frenzy

"Such a pretty cock you got, commoner" you coo, reaching and slowly pressing your thumb to the head, chuckling at how it twitches in your hand

"Please, please I need you" he begged as he closes his eyes when you begin slowly pumping his dick

you pick up the dice shove them in your hand "roll"

he huffs and rolls the dice, moaning in victory

"You heard the dice, fuck me" he sighed, resting his head on the headboard

you roll your eyes and position yourself right above him

"Do not rush me, and do not command me, do you want to cum? you desperate human" you tut

you sink down on his cock and compress your whine when you let him fill your aching pussy

"Yes, yes I want to cum- I'm so sorry, princess, it won't happen again, I want to cum in you" he nods enthusiastically

you hum in satisfaction. you sit on his lap for a second, slowly rocking to get yourself adjusted before you slowly lift off and bounce back down

you place your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself

"c-can I touch you, princess?" he asked desperately

"I suppose" you huff, covering the fat you want his hands on you, helping you out to bounce on his dick, to give him pleasure

his hands find your hips yet again and you let him, loving the feeling of his rough fingertips against your skin

you rise and fall on his lap in a slow rhythm, slowly building pace as you feel more comfortable, the stretch of his big cock stuffing you nicely as he hits all the right spots, he's always reached the best of places, making you feel so full as he pounds into you

but being on top lets him reach so many more places

and before you know it, your pace is gradually getting faster and faster, your moans filling the sweaty air of the hotel room and he grunts, letting out small pleas and whines, whispering your name

he leans up, taking one of your tits in his mouth, biting at the sensitive bud of your nipple, hearing your gasp of pain but moan of pleasure.

you start rolling your hips in circular motions, trying so desperately to rub your clit against his pubic hair at the base of his cock.

he started the thrust up into you, matching your rhythm of pace, the sound of skin clapping together is all you can hear past his groans and your whimpers.

you focus on the feeling, letting your eyes roll and your head throw back as he reaches all the right places, he feels so good.

His hot wet tongue sucking and nibbling at your tit, and the harsh and rough feeling his hair feels grazing against your clit is aching.

Eddie releases your nipple with a pop! And leans up, digging his face in your neck, mumbling words of encouragement and praise into the shell of your ear.

Nothing can be heard but the squelching of his big cock thrusting into your pussy as you bounce up and down.

You pace has quickened and your moans are becoming breathless as you feel the tightness bubbling up in the pit of your stomach

Eddie groans as your walls tighten around him, squeezing him no nicely

Everything about this is driving him crazy, every moan escaping your plush lips, every slap of skin, every pornagraphic look on your face when he slams his dick so deep inside of you

God he fills you up so well, so well that you feel the pit inside of you grow.

Eddie can tell you are close just by the way you squeeze your dripping wet walls around him, coaxing him in your juices.

Eddie moans into the swell of your neck, biting on the soft skin

He leans away, his back leaning against the frame of the bed, one hand finding its way to the small of your back, just above your ass, eith the other remaining on your hip, gripping on to the sweaty skin and you pant and moan

Your hands find Eddie's chest again, your nails seeping into his skin, scratching his pecks. His thrusts are beginning to get sloppy and you know he's close

Eddie can't take his eyes away from you, he's so entranced by what you've done for him tonight, making the fantasy he didn't know he wanted needed come true.

You could feel his dick twitching inside of you and you smiled weakly

"Are you gonna cum f-for me?" You panted

He nods, not being able to speak as he watches your tits bounce with your movements, with your mouth hung open, letting out broken whines of pleasure

"Y-yes, p-princess" he winces "I-im gonna cum"

You smirk down at him "you reckon the dice will let you spill your seed into the elven princess?"

He whines, his climax about to reach breaking point, on the verge of spilling his load inside of you, painting your walls white.

You pick up the dice for the last time. Flicking them away, nor having the energy to roll, you glance beside you, looking at the numbers

"Cum f'me, Eddie" you let out, wanting his hot cum fill you up

You hold your climax in, wanting nothing more than to cum together.

"A-are you close?" He grunts, his palm flat against your back, pressing firmly as his other hand traces shapes around your hip.

You hum in response, not being able to hold it much longer as your thrusts grow tired "Please cum for me, Eddie"

He lets out a broken moan and mumbles intot the hot, sex filled air

"I'm gonna-"

You both moan in unison, each thrust and fall of your hips meeting in perfect harmony as you both let the tightness go.

Eddie hums as he spills his hot seed into you

And you let out a toe curling moan escape your lips as you cum on his dick, you juices mixing together, sticking to your thighs as it leaks out of your throbbing hole.

You hum, your climax fading away as you begin to go limp in his arm. He rides out your high as he pushes you closer to him, letting you lean on his chest.

After a moment, he's stopped moving, and you're left to catch your breath, listening to his rapid heartbeat as his chest rises and falls against your ear

"You're the best wife ever, you know that?" He sighs.

‐----------------‐-----------------------------

[enviedear]

oh em geeeee… honestly part of me wishes to train with him a bit. or like just watch him train,,, idk why… jace is eating at my brain for no reason. srry this isn’t a lot 😭😭😭 let me think — 🦢 (if nobody has used this one already)

i also want to train with our communal baby daddy, here's some fluffy training with jace. i hope you love it swan nonnie! enjoy the hints of societal misogyny i added in <3

request ⊹ send me your thoughts

night grips the entirety of the red keep, castle almost eerily quiet. you glance around your chambers, heart pounding. the court expects you to be confined to traditional duties—embroidery, etiquette, and endless tea lunches. despite your betrothal to the future king, education for your regency remains lackluster.

but tonight, you have other plans.

carefully, you slip out of your chambers, the soft rustle of your plainclothes barely audible. you navigate the winding corridors with practiced ease, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the stone walls.

each step bringing you closer to the training grounds, where your betrothed awaits.

as you approach, the sound of steel clashing and the grunts of exertion reach your ears. you quicken your pace, eager to see him. rounding the corner, you spot jacaerys in the courtyard, his sword slicing through a practice dummy with precision. he looks every bit the warrior prince, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he moves.

"you're late." he teases, a playful glint in his eyes when he sees you.

"i had to make sure no one saw me… or followed me." you reply, grinning. "wouldn't want to ruin my prince's reputation with my unladylike behavior."

jacaerys laughs, the sound warm and genuine. he steps forward, handing you a practice sword. "let's see if your skills have improved, my lady."

you take the sword, feeling its weight in your hands. despite the countless hours of secret training, the weapon still feels foreign compared to the delicate quilting needles you're expected to master.

but as you face jacaerys, determination sets in. you refuse to be underestimated.

he takes a offensive stance, and you mirror him. the first clash of your swords sends a shiver down your spine. the thrill of combat, the crash of steel—it’s intoxicating.

jace had mentioned the fact the first night he decided to train you. he was adamant, talking out of his head, rash yet horribly kind.

your prince has never fully bent for the rules. while the rest of court frowned upon their future queen welding the weapon of men, your love did not. he seeks only to encourage you.

jacaerys pushes you, sending you backwards, testing your limits. his movements are fluid, graceful even, but he holds back, allowing you to find your rhythm.

"you've improved!" he says, parrying a particularly aggressive strike. "but you still leave your left side vulnerable."

you huff, annoyed at his observation. "show me how to fix it, then."

with a grin, jacaerys steps closer, his eyes locked onto yours. he adjusts your stance, his hands firm and guiding. "like this..." he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. your heart skips a beat, the proximity of his body sending a jolt of electricity through you.

you nod, trying to focus on his instructions. he steps back, and you both resume your positions. this time, you're ready. when he strikes, you deflect, moving with more confidence.

slowly, jace’s hits grow less suppression— his eyes alight as you begin to match his pace. his true equal.

jace finally errs, striking out hastily and allowing your to draw back. quickly, and before he can recover, you leap forward and strike him. your swords’ edge pressing lightly into his practice chestplate. you lower your sword, panting. jacaerys stands opposite you, a proud smile on his lips.

"using my own teachings against me." he says, voice filled with admiration. "should i be wary of your true plans with these lessons?”

you laugh, shaking your head. "never, my prince. i simply mean to protect at your side."

he steps closer, his expression softening. "that's all i could ask for." he whispers.

"perhaps one day." you reply, a smirk playing on your lips. "save you ever entertain the notion of a mistress."

jacaerys chuckles, a twinkle in his eyes. "i would sooner seek the fate of dragonfire."

you can't help the foolish smile your lips curve into, “i’ll hold you to your promise, my prince."

he bows slightly, his dark hair falling back from his face. "i eagerly make this oath,” he looks up at you, soft smirk on his face, “my queen.”

you pull him into a hug, free of the watchful eyes of the usually bustling castle. he melts into your embrace, agile hands finding home at the small of your back. the pair of you stay like that for a while, fueled purely by each others company.

"i should probably head back before someone realizes i'm missing," you say reluctantly, already dreading the return to your stifling halls.

jacaerys nods, understanding flickering in his gaze. "until next time then, my lady. on time, perhaps?"

with a roll of your eyes and a soft smile, you hand back the practice sword and turn to leave. you feel his eyes watch you as you disappear into the castle’s walls—and somehow, the knowledge of that feels much more powerful than any weapon.

[listofwhyyouloveher]

ok idea the outsiders boys with a partner that LOVES to embroider stuff

so like examples would be Darry or Dally with a barely noticeable heart on their jeans, Johnny with a hidden star flower or heart on his jacket, or Soda with a sunflower on his DX shirt pocket

Summary: The Outsiders with a reader who embroiders

Warnings: None

Author's Note: None PONYBOY finds solace in a chance encounter with you, who has a passion for embroidery. He loves when you embroider little things onto his shirt. He is captivated by your intricate creations, each stitch telling a story of its own. He loves when you embroider things into his clothes, it reminds him that you're always with him, no matter what. He especially likes it when you stitch little ponies into the inside of his jacket, so he can look down and see your creation, the ones you did while thinking about him. JOHNNY learned to embroider from his mom when he was little. He's been using that talent now to fix up his worn clothes. Johnny thinks you're insanely talented, how you can create things from just needle and thread. He secretly wants to be just like you, but knows he would be made fun of by Dallas so he just watches you embroider. He loves when you embroider yellow flowers on the cuffs of his denim jacket, his favorite colour is yellow and he likes knowing that you know the little details about him. SODAPOP thinks it's so cute that you can embroider. He think's its such a 'grandma' quality, which to him is not a bad thing at all, in fact, it makes him feel a soft nostalgia for that part of his life that he misses. He would let you embroider his work shirts if he could, but he can't because his boss would get so pissed at him, but he lets you embroider the shirt he wears underneath. There's a little pop bottle resting above his heart. Usually he would laugh at the overused connotation, but he thinks that it's sweet when it's coming from you. STEVE is absolutely in love with your embroidery. He loves the delicate patterns and lovely stitching that shapes into a recognizable thing. However, he would never let you stitch something on the outside of his clothes, only on the inside of his jacket or underneath the cuffs of his jeans. The only way you could get away with embroidering something on his shirt or on the outside of his pants is if it was tuff, like a skull or something. That doesn't mean you haven't strategically placed a heart on one of his shirts though! TWO BIT is actually shit at embroidering. He's tried to learn for his mom and sister, but he really just couldn't get the hang of it. He loves to watch you work though, entranced by how quickly your needle works and how clear your designs are. He's so happy when you embroider matching shirts for him and you. Over the heart of one of his white tank tops is a mickey and over one of yours is a minnie. He's kissing you all over when he recieves it and he's immedietly making you put on yours to match with him. DARRY learned to embroider from his mom, in fact, that was probably the last thing he learned from her. He and his dad both ripped a small hole in their jeans and she sat them both down and taught them how to fix it. He thinks that the fact that you embroider is a sign from the heavens that his mother is saying you're made for him. He'll actually try and get you to embroider stuff on his clothes, it makes him feel grounded and he'll rub the pads of his thumb over the tight stitching when he's tired, nervous or angry. DALLAS calls you a grandma because you know how to embroider, but when his favorite brown leather jacket got caught in a bramble and tore, he came 'begging' (he would kill you if you called it that) for help. At first you obliged and just helped him stitch it up, but when he started to bring more stuff over you would go a little crazy with the designs. He knew right away that you were going off track, but he never said anything, you even caught him wearing some of the stuff you fixed out to a rumble, running his hand over it for good luck.

[liveontelevision]

Suffer Epilogue | Lucifer x Reader

Thanks for the patience friends, been a busy bee :') but here she is in all her glory, a happy ending for everyone!

SMUTSMUTSMUTSMUTSMUT MINORS DNI 18+

♡♡♡

The feeling of royal silks and golden embroidery under your fingertips are soothing in their own sense. But what lies beneath is what truly interests you. With his own assistance, his beautifully constructed suit vest is removed. You needed no help when it came to swiftly unbuttoning the entirety of his blouse. What's revealed is a heaving chest, a rosy blush tainting its snow-white complexion.

You want to taint it more.

You dip your head down, running your hands down the length of his sweet skin, until your palms rest comfortably on either side of his waist. Tracing your thumbs across that nerve that continuously forces a subtle jerk, you leave a trail of kisses and nips across his chest. The additional discoloration of your delicate bruising only paints a prettier picture below you.

Leading your hands back up to his chest, you brush your fingers across his skin delicately. An action much less intimate than anything that's just occurred seems to force a vocal response. A whimper, muffled into the back of his ash-colored hand, contrasts the blush on the apple of his cheeks quite nicely.

You look at him, like an artist enjoying their latest creation, beaming at him with pride.

Back to work.

Pressing feather-light kisses up the column of his neck, you take a gentle hold of his wrist to pull his hand away from his lips, wanting to leverage the sweet whines that spill out. You continue on until you barely kiss the corner of his mouth, refusing to give him what he wants.

But only for a moment.

Once he's nearly begging for a kiss, you let your lips meet his tenderly. A passionate exchange of pants and occasional nipping at his lower lip, Lucifer manages to let out something other than a breathy whine -

"Darling, I.. I love y-"

Your hand is immediately clamped over his mouth. You stare at each other with wide eyes, at the sudden action. After a breathless moment had passed, you quickly pull your hand to your chest and sit up.

"S-Sorry! I just.. sorry! Did.. that hurt..?" You ask with a hint of hesitation to your voice, as if you weren't exactly sure you wanted the response.

Lucifer sits up from lying on his back to resting on his elbows, still quite comfortable with you straddling his topless form. He lets out a nervous chuckle, his eyes glowing up at you.

"Well..! Not physically." He says, a tinge of frustration in his words. "Is there.. something we need to discuss, dear?"

Shit.

You suck in your lower lip and quickly shake your head.

"N-No! I don't think so! Nothing important!" You stammer out. Your nervous smile is only met with a stern expression of disbelief, then a sigh that sounds like an admission of defeat. Lucifer brings his hand up to caress your cheek.

"I won't force anything out of you, but I.. am getting a little worried." You can't control the involuntarily flinch at his touch, and it only seems to dishearten him more. Before he can pull away, you take a grasp of his hand and bring it back to cup your cheek.

"I know. I'm sorry." Your response is almost a whisper. The sound of vibration against a nearby nightstand brings both of your attention to your phone. You carefully unmount him, after receiving a quick kiss on the forehead, and glance at the reminder sent by the one and only princess of Hell; Exercise on the importance of communication is in 10!

Feeling a gentle hand encase your shoulder, you catch Lucifer sneaking a peak at your screen - "Hm. That one should be good for you, my dear." - only to antagonize you. You groan and shrug him off before standing.

He's.. not wrong, though.

The hotel wasn't exactly bustling with residents, but since the mini-battle with that damned radio demon, there were definitely some new faces. Charlie couldn't be happier, especially with the news of her friend Sir Pentious making it safely to Heaven. The hotel was working. And it was finally peaceful.

But, there's always a quiet before the storm.

Charlie was now aware of your relationship with her father, even if it wasn't by your own admission. And after Lucifer requested a one-on-one with Vaggie, something that occurred more often after her angelic strength was restored, you had the hotel manager cheering you on as well.

It didn't take long for Angel or Husk to find out, but that was mainly a precursor to Niffty interrupting some private time you were trying to have with Lucifer. And Alastor.. he hadn't shown his face since the fight. On occasion though, you'd catch his scowling shadow. As if the shadow met your eyes, its smile curls upwards.. and it waves.

You wave back.

It was nice for everyone to know, actually. You thought you weren't one to enjoy PDAs of any kind, but having Lucifer sitting near you at all times, his fingers interlaced with yours, or even his thigh gently touching yours, felt like a well-earned reward. Best of all, him placing his hand on the small of your back while greeting new residents, you got to his expression. A grin of pride adorned his face each time. Damned, if that didn't make you feel amazing.

That being said, things must be perfect between you and the king, right? For the first time, there's nothing threatening your relationship. It's out in the open, even. You're being supported by the one demon who matters most, Charlie, and you've never felt more.. loved...

Love.

You told Lucifer you loved him. In the heat of battle, when Charlie was mere seconds from tearing Alastor apart, you told him you loved him.

It feels foolish. How could you bring something like that up in a moment of such severity? Then again, Maybe that was it. Maybe you just said it to get it out of your system at your most vulnerable. 

Maybe you didn't even mean it.

You shake that thought from your head every time it comes up. And unfortunately, it comes up often. On the other end, Lucifer was always there to calm your nerves. With every little kiss, every embrace, every bite, he would suffocate any retched thought that you dared to come up with.

An unfortunately common occurrence, your battery had simply run out today. You have to find Lucifer.

"Luci?" You call out, peeking into his office. He's hunched over his desk, groaning and waving you over to him in response. You happily trot along, setting a tray of teacups beside him on his desk.. well you tried to at least. Stacks of papers were covering most of the tabletop, and any little movement would surely cause something to tumble. You opt to set the trey aside and hand him his cup directly. With an exaggerated groan, he leans back in his chair, his head lulling back.

"I believe I'm dying my love." He mutters out. You roll your eyes in response and lean your back against the edge of his desk.

"I highly doubt that." You respond with a smirk. You watch him rake his fingers through his hair, before finally taking a sip of the tea. His eyes almost immediately soften. With a sigh from his lips, he sets the cup aside and starts rubbing his neck.

"I'm proud of Charlie, and I'm more than happy to help- I'd even prefer to do all the communication with Heaven, but.. this?" He gestures weakly to the forest of paperwork shrouding his desk. "This is literal Hell."

You shrug, "Well, You're not wrong." You sit up, chuckling when he shoots you a glare. You stand behind him, gently placing your hands on his shoulders. "If it's stressing you out so much, why don't you take a quick break? My treat~" You bend at the hips to whisper in his ear, his shudder in response only raising your ego more.

"I-I don't know, I'm.. I still have a lot to do, and some of this needs to be.. sent over... tomorrow..." As he hesitates over your offer, you're already working his shoulders with gentle hands. Pressing your thumbs into where it feels the most tense, you have to work hard to untangle the knots in his muscles. Your hands slide from neck to shoulder, then move farther up each time, eventually toying with the hairs on the back of his neck, earning you a delectable shudder.

“D-Darling, I really should get some more done.." He groans out, as you brush his hair away from his face and rake your nails down his scalp.

After seeing his eyes flutter shut, his head having fallen backward onto the chair, you press a quick kiss to his forehead.

"You're doing great, Luci. I'll be here to help in any way I can." You say sweetly. He looks up to you with half-lidded eyes and tucks the hair that dangles in front of you behind your ear. You hum, quite content with his motion to pull you into an upside-down kiss.

The next thing you know, you're perched on his desk, most of the papers scattered around you. Lucifer keeps a tight grip on either side of your legs, pulling you completely flush to him in one fell swoop. With a little yelp, your playful giggles are snuffed by a deep kiss. His hands explore your sides, tracing over every curve he can get his hands on. With one swipe, his claws barely graze your skin, having snuck under your top without you truly noticing.

You respond with a gasp, wide eyes only met with shut, concentrated ones. His hand moves quickly, completely encompassing your chest with one hand, caressing and toying with your breasts. You try to let out a moan in response, but he's refusing to break the passionate wrestling of your tongues for even a second.

You arch your back, forcing your bodies even closer together. a feat you thought impossible, until you feel him leaning closer, creating friction against your heat you weren't expecting.

You tighten your legs around his waist, involuntarily bringing his hips closer to yours. You let out another muffled whine, gripping desperately at his hair at the nape of his neck.

While this is fun and all.. you want to see his face. 

You want to see his desperation and frustration as you pull yourself away and force him to return to work, only for you to tease him in other facets.

You place both your hands on his chest and gently push away, your body leaning closer to the desk. And you get exactly what you want. A panting, desperate mess, looking ready to beg for you to continue on. But he doesn't beg. Instead,

".. I love you." He says weakly.

Your body is brought to a complete halt, your legs and arms tightening around him with the sudden tension of your muscles. You look at him with wide eyes, and he only realizes the source of the disruption once he's fully regained his composure.

You've never seen him this way. Frustrated. Disappointed. Fuck, it's the worst. He paces back and forth in front of you, still a mess sitting on his desk.

"I-I just don't understand, I love you-" He emphasizes his words and you bite your lip and force your eyes down.

"-and I know you love me back. You said it first." He was right. He looks at you with his hands on his hips, tapping his foot as if he were impatiently waiting for a response.

"I did- I do..! I just- I'm worried about.. something happening, or someone-" You stammer a completely unreasonable response out and it only forces a worried look onto him.

Damn, that one's even worse.

"Look, I'm trying to figure out why I can't say- .. but, I feel it, Lucifer, I promise." You say weakly, clutching at your chest, unsure if it was meant to imply how your heart is brimming with thoughts of him, or if it's due to your own nerves. Your eyes are drawn from your lap to Lucifer's soft expression when his hand gently cradles your chin. Your eyes are glossy, almost ready to tear apart.

"I know, darling. I just hate to see you in this much distraught over something like this. I'll always be here, and my feelings will never change.. so I'm more than willing to wait for you to be ready for this to go on any further." Again, his words always calm down. "but... this is affecting me as well. If I can help you-" 

"Lucifer, I can handle myself-"

"-can handle yourself,” He interrupts in tandem. “I know. I know you can." He lets out a sigh, his smile dropping bringing a pain to your chest. "I'll be here for you, my love. For anything." He plants a quick kiss to your cheek. "I should.. get some work done. And uh.. clean up this mess." His gesture to the piles of papers, now on the floor, brings a small smile to your lips.

"I'm sorry, Lucifer."

"I know."

-

No one frustrates you more than yourself. Are you questioning his feelings? Your feelings? What if you don't trust him? After all this time, all the hurdles you've had to jump, and how he's stuck with those?

Cursing yourself, you're pacing the balcony to your hotel room, a pleasant addition after the reconstruction. Yet, all it's been good for is getting fresh air from the suffocating thoughts in your head. It wasn't voices exactly, you just always felt as if your mind was vibrating at this weird frequency. As if there was a static-

"What do you think you're doing? Trying to cause more trouble? You shouldn't be here." Leaning against the railing, you call out to the familiar sensation.

"I'm on thin ice already, darling, I hope you don't think I'm idiotic enough to cause more trouble so soon." Just as you thought, Alastor stands upright from his shadowy figure, leaning against his microphone by your side.

This was the first time he's emerged since he got his ass thoroughly kicked by Charlie. And even after all that's gone on, you allow him to stand by your side, staring down at the city.

"Did you ever love me? That whole time?" Your question seems to startle him, you see his hand flinch against his cane at your voice.

"Love? That isn't exactly.. Something I do." He responds. You scoff at his tacky words,

"So, what, you've never loved anyone before? How do you-"

"I'll say it, if it will stop you from asking me ridiculous questions." You hold your hand up dismissively.

"Don't." He swoons in your direction, a hand over his heart following a dreamy sigh.

"Oh my sweet apple pie, I love y-"

"Stop it." You snap. He retreats, bending at the hips to lean against the railing.

"Speaking of.. apple pie-"

"He's not here. We're uh.. taking some time to yourselves." You admit quickly, looking away and nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

"Ah, and you were looking for a little rebound?" You groan at his words,

"No! Stop it you freak!" You push him away, despite the fact he made no real advance. He only retaliates with a hearty chuckle.

"Come now, You know I just enjoy your misfortune."

You let out a calm huff, your tension melting at the cool breeze that fills the silence between you.

"I'm scared. There's always something that's torn us apart. And usually, it's been my fault. What if I screw it up again, Al?" Your sudden openness brings a curious eye over to you. Still, Alastor stops to think before he speaks.

"What was the cause of your first uncoupling?" You cock your head in confusion, but he ushers you on.

"Well.. I kissed him while he was married.. In Charlie's nursery. While she was sleeping." You mumble your words, an embarrassing look back to what started this all. Alastor's holding back a laugh.

"And he refused you?"

You shake your head in response.

"No, actually, Lillith caught me."

He hums, before continuing his questioning.

"And the other time.. was my doing, correct?" His words hold no static, a human voice greeting you for the first time.

"Uh.. Yeah." You confirm softly, a bit of shock coming through your own voice.

"Well, it seems like the constant here is your little apple pie." His says. You quickly clarify,

"I don't call him that, just so you know."

"Well. He's quite the thorn in my side. So he must be an even sharper one in yours. He's surely not going anywhere without a fight." His words are laced with irritation and honesty. "Do you doubt that?"

"Well.. no. I don't. I believe in him." You say.

"Then that seems to matter more than anything, my dear." You ruminate for a moment. It can't be that easy..

"But what if-"

"Listen close." Alastor takes a firm grasp on your jaw and moves to face you entirely. He brings you to a sharp stance, your eyes wide at the sight of his towering form. "Despite my intentions, I did learn quite a lot about you during our time together, my dear. Your head is always full of static, you overthink every damn thing. Quite a nasty habit, I must say."

Seeing your breath pick up, he scowls and tosses his hand away with a sigh.

"Do you love him?"

Soothing your jaw, you look at him with a hint of disdain, but his question throws you off.

"I.. I think so..?"

"Then trust that. Trust the quiet. There isn't always a storm to follow, you know." You look away from him, thinking on his words. Leaning back against the railing, a final cool breeze blowing through your hair, you realize you can't deny him.

"Thanks, Alastor. You know I'm sure you could come back and-"

You look over to Alastor only to find yourself standing alone on the balcony.

-

You'll refuse to give Alastor credit until the day you drop dead - so never - but you were suddenly feeling very.. peckish.

With a determined huff, you approach Lucifer’s bedroom door. And with an even more determined knock, the door cracks open. Without a true greeting, you almost hesitate. Maybe he’s upset with you..? Maybe he isn’t ready to see you after- 

There isn’t always a storm to follow.

You take a deep breath.

“Can I come in?” You peek inside, just your head entering the room. It feels strange announcing your entrance.. You’ve slept beside him a number of times, his bedroom is all too familiar. You take in his lounging figure, despite the fact he’s beckoned you over with a smile. It’s a tired smile, sure, but he put it on just for you.

His room consists of his ridiculously large bed, king size obviously, and a little nook that houses a love seat and a small fireplace. He’s laid about the cushions of the love seat, a book in hand and some reading glasses miraculously pitched on his nose.

You remember him telling you he doesn't need them.. Of course he doesn't, he’s an angelic being. But he likes to play pretend.

You take in a deep breath, making Lucifer lower his book to look at you, his elbow resting on the arm and his face resting on his hand.

“Lucifer, I'm- I need to tell you-” You stammer through what you can barely call a sentence.

“Well don't force yourself, dear.” He rolls his eyes and sends you a sly smile, lightening the tension with some usual teasing remarks.

“I'm not! You've just.. you’ve done so much for me and that- it’s hard. To rely on someone. To.. need someone. But I do and-and I can't ignore it anymore. I need you by my side, Lucifer. I.. trust you.” You rant on, not entirely understanding the words coming from your own mouth. This goes on for a minute. Trying to say I love you without saying it directly is proving to be a more difficult task than you initially thought. So..

“I love you.”

It’s quick, almost timid coming from your breathless chest. Suddenly very alert, Lucifer sits up and cocks his eyebrow at you.

“I'm sorry?” He responds. Is he doing this on purpose?

“I-I said.. I love you…” You struggle to repeat yourself.

“I don't think I caught that.” Oh, he’s absolutely doing this on purpose.

“Lucifer, please.” You whine, looking at him with pleading eyes. He stands, approaching you without hesitation, without anticipation, without anger- you can’t read him. Your breath quickens.

“Say it again.” Standing directly in front of you, he barely has the upper hand. The smallest height difference gives him the slightest chance to look down at you, and you’re suddenly wishing you prepared yourself for this more. His stern voice is sending shivers down your spine.

“I-I.. love you. Lucifer.” You repeat with a squeak, looking to him like you’re speaking a foreign language. Like you aren't sure if he’s truly understanding your words. Those three simple words.

“Again.” He says in a low tone. When you finally look to his eyes, they’re softer than you originally thought. And despite his thoughtless approach, looking crude and intimidating, he’s completely red in the face.

“I.. I-I lov-” Before you can fulfill his request, his lips are on yours. Suddenly acting very desperate, he swallows the rest of your sentence. Your eyes flutter shut, his arms quickly wrapping around your waist and pulling you in. He traces your curves, his hands all too familiar with your body at this point. Not making it too far from the entrance of the bedroom makes the process of bringing you against the wall far too easy.

Whether it be his strength or your complete trust in him, you pay no mind when the back of your head hits the wall with a subtle thunk. You were sure if someone were in the hall at that moment, they would feel the need to check on the ruckus. You attempt to brace your arms against the wall, but Lucifer’s hands are instantly encasing your wrists, bringing your hands to his shoulders.

Touch him. He wants you to touch him.

You oblige, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck to keep yourself anchored. His tongue slips into your mouth smoothly and is searching for your own. With lavish rolls of his tongue, your neck can barely handle the weight of your own head, lulling along to follow his movements. He brings a hand to the back of your head, to cradle it, to keep you exactly how he wants you. Tilting his head just slightly, he devours any and every little sound that manages to slip out, your lips completely locked.

Lucifer brings you in closer, and you almost immediately noticing the constricted bulge pressing into your thigh. It’s enough to snap a snarky remark from you once you can pull away.

“If that’s all I needed to say to get you this excited, I would've said it soon-” Before you can tease him further, he pulls your lips against his again, a quick but sloppy kiss hazing your mind. He takes your neck firmly, his thumb and index finger guiding your head to the side. Bringing his lips to your ear, his voice fans across your ear.

“Say it, again.” 

You want to scold him, when his passion brings the slightest flame against your ear. But the burning sensation, and his hand encapsulating your neck, is withering any words you were planning on saying. Which pushes Lucifer’s request to the back of your mind.

He plans a heavy kiss against your jaw, just in front of your ear, exhaling deeply. “My love-” 

He brings you back for a moment.

“I-I love you, Lucifer-” You mutter out, your voice much higher than you intended it to be. His lips are on yours again. Not daring to break the connection, it takes nothing for him to bring your legs up and around his waist, where he holds you against his chest tightly. It doesn't last long though, because your back hits the plush blankets of the bed before you can truly process your feet were ever off the ground.

He crawls onto your lying form, his arms caging you in. You were expecting to see a lust-driven monster with how he's acting, but once you see his face, you’re met with sparkling eyes and a lip bitten so hard, that the slightest well of golden blood shines off his sharp teeth. A more familiar expression brings you some relief. You run the back of your fingers across his cheek, which he chases with a sudden smile.

“I love you.” You repeat. This one seems to take all the breath from his lungs. Because he didn't ask you to say it. You said it because it was simply true. You said it because you simply love him.

Your hand curls around his jawline, giving you a gentle hold on his face, to bring his lips back to yours. You hum sweetly into his lips, feeling them curl into a smile against yours. He’s quick to trail the kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to your jawline, then down to the column of your neck. They become deeper, sloppier, with each kiss. Occasionally, he’ll bite. Or he’ll leave the smallest bruises around your collarbone. It has all melded into one passionate sensation that you can only respond to with soft whimpers and breathy moans.

He’s completely kissed down your body, his movements bringing him down until he’s seated on the floor by the bed. You sit up on your elbows when you muster the strength, but your stability is quickly taken away when your ankles are taken in both his hands. He yanks you down the bed until your hips sit just at the edge. The sudden motion forces a concession of giggles and a startled yelp from you, music to his ears.

His ability to overwhelm your senses leaves you defenseless to him stripping you. It doesn't take much, while you weren't expecting this exactly, you did arrive in loungewear. Which makes it much easier for him to quickly access your clothed heat that had already soaked your bottoms with his treatment.

“L-Lucifer, you don’t have to- Mmn!” Your words are interrupted by a curled finger pressing the fabric of your briefs in between your folds. He drags his knuckle across your opening, the friction from the fabric brings a burning sensation to your already melting heat. It can barely be considered touching you, yet it forces your head to fall back onto the bed, your fists wringing the blankets below you.

With another breathless whimper, Lucifer's chest is heaving at the sound alone. Having you completely at his disposal and loving every moment of his touch?

Now that can bring a man to his knees. He just needs more.

“Tell me more, love.” He hooks his fingers around your underwear, just enough to slide two fingers in your entrance. You gasp, but there's barely any air to fill your lungs. He curls his fingers, just once, and he's enjoying the sight of your immediate reaction. He was convinced that your body was molded perfectly to his. Your hand fitting perfectly in his, your bodies perfectly connected when embracing, your entrance being perfectly filled with just his fingers. He adds another.

A slow curl, with all three fingers, hits your growing bundle of nerves another time, only to drag his still-curved fingers down across your clenching walls. You can barely call what comes out of your mouth next words, even if you mean for it to be his name.

While he could spend hours doing this, pumping into you quickly, only to slow and press his fingers deeply into you moments away from release, he’s hungry.

Before you can think any further, your mind truly in the clouds, a lavish lick of a serpents tongue runs up the length of your pussy. you grip the bed sheets on either side of you, arching your back away from the mattress. Even with your movements, Lucifer is eagerly following your hips, already having a desperate grip around your thighs. If you arch back, he dips his head lower. If you flinch and curl your body, he's pushing his tongue further into your entrance.

Completely at his mercy, you're left an absolute mess when he adds back those three fingers he previously tortured you with. In tandem, he works your entrance while flicking your clit, with the fork in his tongue only heightening the sensation of its tender state.

You're close. He's completely lost in the sound of you, the taste, but you're focusing hard on the twinging pleasure that heightens while you hold your own breath. it forces a myriad of heaving, hitching, moans, and whines. And after a collection of his own low growls and moans into your heat, you're left an utter mess above him.

His head tilts slightly, resting his cheek on your thigh as he cleans any of you that he may have missed. A rare occurrence that he doesn't take every last drop from you, It takes you a moment to realize he had left his position of kneeling in front you. Until the sudden clinking of a belt buckle forces your wide eyes to meet with its source. Th impressive outline of his cock forces you to bite down on your lip. Despite being a familiar sight, you're swooning at the sight of him releasing his length.

You match his hazy eyes as he falls forward, caging you in and leaving his own mess of precum to mix with your precious juices.

‘You- are incredibly frustrating.” He says in a low breathless voice. Your mind can barely process his insult before he's involuntarily grinding his hips against yours. You yelp, reaching a hand up to cover your mouth. But almost like instinct, Lucifer has reached up to take your wrist and push it to the bed, beside your head.

“L-Lucifer please, I'm still sens-”

“You're irritating.” he adds, his voice husky and his breath hot against your cheek as he lowers his head. “You're disobedient.” You are desperate to wet your suddenly dry throat, your head swarming with each buck of his hips, now sliding between your folds but never entering you. “and that only makes me love you more.”

His roller coaster of praise and repremands, are turned into heavy pants, a needy whine as he enters you, and a desperate moan into the side of your ear. 

He's so familiar, so adapt to you. And you him. But despite his unusual behaviors tonight, he's much weaker than usual. More vulnerable. Even with the upper hand, his mind is running with the thoughts and sensations of his body melting into yours, giving his all to you. He wants to give his all to you.

His overstimulating abuse leaves it difficult to focus your eyes on any one feature, but the rosy hues in his cheeks and his glowing eyes will always find you. You reach your arms up and desperately claw at the back of his vest, the material barely letting you take on a steady grip.

“L-Lucifer, I-I can't-”

“Close..” You barely hear it, the softest whisper in your ear. “I need.. you to-”

“I-I love you..! I love you, Lucifer, please~” the words fumble from your mouth thoughtlessly.

“I'm yours-” he struggles out, his speed and rhythm becoming sloppy and unmeasurable.

You tilt your head back, your body arching into him only gives him access to a deeper part of you.

“Mine.. I love you-” you squeak out. With a final press into you, you feel the relieving sensation of him finally finishing. You stay connected as he continues to grind into you, despite already being fully sheathed. Finally, Lucifer collapsing on you with a hefty whine.

“Well?” You hum softly, running your hands through his hair as he continues to steady his breath. he looks at you, with a slow blink, and a goofy grin.

“Say it back.” You said calmly.

“say what?” You yank his hair back a bit and he winces with a smile.

“If I could kill you, my love, I would.” You say with a stern expression. Your seriousness only brings a smile to his face.

“I love you, too, darling.”

-

You find yourself in your room, scrolling through your messages and rereading the text Charlie had sent one last time.. just to be sure.

We're holding a clothing donation event for new sinners and residents! There's no pressure in how much you'd like to donate, but if there's anything you don't wear, it could go to good use in someone else's hands! Or claws! (Also, if you wouldn't mind helping with mending and sewing some stuff at the event, I would really really really appreciate it!) XOXO

You let out a quiet chuckle to yourself, tossing your phone aside. You open the door to your closet, not exactly realizing until now.. it was busting at the seams.

"Alright.. let's do this then." You rummage through your mess of a wardrobe, flipping through every piece. Charlie made it a point to make it sound like you don't have to get rid of too much, but this was a perfect excuse to dump most of your unloved clothes.

A few things stop you.

Your uniform you were given at the Morningstar manor. A dark red dress with a white apron. It was barely worn after Lucifer insisted you wear something more comfortable around the house.

Another dress of yours; one of your favorites that you purposely tore across the bottom, to bring it much higher across your thighs. Something to give you some much-needed attention after getting fired.

You toss those aside, along with some hand-me-downs you received and altered when you first came to the hotel. You wore some, but you've developed a nicer wardrobe that fits you much more comfortably.

You passed a lilac-colored dress, it had a light shine to it that begged to be caressed. You remember how lovely this felt against your skin. It was what you wore during a visit with Lucifer.

"I wonder what happened to the corset.." You mutter to yourself. This one's a keeper. You move on.

Something that felt expensive passes through your fingers, and you stop to examine it more carefully.

"Woah.."

It was the gown that Lucifer gave you for the gala he invited you to. It was the same gown that drew so much attention to you.. including his. The same one that you kissed him in.. 

You felt a bit torn. It held so many great memories, except for the end of that night, of course, and it was a gift after all.

"Okay.. if it still fits, I'll keep it." You barter with yourself, before getting undressed a bit too excitedly.

It took some hassle, but twisting and turning in front of your mirror, you're in awe at the quality. And it did in fact still fit. You ran your hands along the fabric, thoroughly enjoying the quality.

"Woah."

You quickly turn, hearing the exclamation come from your door. Lucifer stands with a bouquet of flowers in hand, but it's almost immediately on the ground. In a state of pure astonishment, Lucifer's eyes were sparkling at the sight of you.

"That's the-" He weakly holds up his finger to gesture to the dress, his words failing to form any coherent thought.

You chuckle nervously, tucking your hands behind your back and fidgeting with your gloved fingers.

"I was just.. looking through my clothes for the.. uh.. Charlie was asking-" you stammer out some sort of explanation, but nothing explains why you felt the need to play dress up.

"Her donation event! Right!" Lucifer quickly responds, stepping completely inside your room and shutting the door behind him. He kicks the flowers he's already forgotten about, and quickly scoops them back up. As he approaches you, he catches sight of the numerous piles of clothing. With a quick snap, they're neatly folded and sent away into a portal, assumingly somewhere near Charlie.

"Ah, angelic magic." You hum satisfied by the now neat floor. You examine him, placing your hands on your hips with a smirk. "A bouquet of flowers? What's the occasion?"

With another display of magic, a vase appears on your vanity, which he slips the flowers into.

"Just a gesture.. of love~" He draws out his words, slipping his hands onto your waist.

Oh, he's letting the I love you get to his head, isn't he?

You respond with a quick eye roll, placing your hands on his shoulders.

"Thank you, Luci, I love them." You draw out your words to mimic his.

"You picked out a good one." He looks you up and down, his hands on your waist thoroughly exploring your sides. "I already told you how stunning you look, right?" 

"Yeah.. decades ago. It.. wouldn't hurt to hear it again, though." You mutter, a sly smile across your face. He holds you closer, his warm hands palming the small of your back. With a quick twirl, forcing a fit of laughter from you two, he stops when his eyes meet yours. "You look absolutely breathtaking."

"And stunning?" 

"And stunning." He lets out a quiet sigh, tracing his claws from the base of your shoulder to your hand, interlocking your fingers. With his other hand, he pulls you in by your waist. You only respond with a quiet giggle.

"What are you doing?" You ask as he turns you around. He starts to slowly sway you along, and you struggle for a moment to keep up with the impromptu waltz.

"Dancing. I wanted to dance with you during that Gala. I never got a chance, though." His tone makes it sound as if it were your fault.

"Probably because you were pawning Charlie off to me every 5 minutes." You glare at him, with a still-apparent smile.

He shrugs.

"Can you blame me?"

"I can, actually."

Another laugh is forced from your lips when he spins you around. As he draws you back in, you're brought flush to his chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and let out a breath that you've been holding in for years. Lucifer gives you another contemplating look.

"Now, the dress is pretty and all, but..."

You cock your head to the side with a soft smile. "But?"

"I think I’d prefer you in white."

♡♡♡

Haven't written smut in a hot minute :') hope it was tasty

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[tadfool]

thinkin about Astarion mending Wyll's clothes for him but also embroidering something on them when he does. I imagine with all the fighting and traveling Wyll ends up with rips and holes in his clothes pretty often and eventually Astarion gets sick of watching him walk around in tattered clothes (most people likely wouldn't even notice but of course Astarion isn't most people). the first couple times he does it he just mends the damages and gives it back, but maybe one time Wyll ends up with a particularly large rip in his shirt and Astarion decides to take the opportunity to cover the damage with a small bit of embroidery to tidy up the repair. Wyll thanks him for repairing his shirt (again) but then he notices the embroidery and pauses for a moment in both surprise and marvel. "did you do this?" he says, carefully running his thumb over the delicate stitches, he knew it was a bit of a stupid question but he couldn't seem to think of anything else to say. (cont. under the cut bc this got kinda long)

"it was a pretty nasty rip, even with my skillful hands," Astarion flashes Wyll a suggestive grin to emphasize his innuendo but Wyll is still to busy admiring the embroidery in his hands, "I wasn't able to make the repair look presentable on its own, but a bit of embroidery does well enough to cover it up"

"it's beautiful." Wyll breathes.

"yes, well, you're welcome." Astarion retorts, his voice thick with snark to hide how much Wyll's earnest praise flustered him.

Wyll chuckles and thanks him again before they part ways.

the next time Astarion repairs some of Wyll's clothes when he returns the item Wyll once again notices a small patch of embroidery but this time it's somewhere totally unrelated to the damaged area. it's lovely, and he spends a moment admiring it before giving Astarion a questioning look. "there was a stain, I couldn't wash it out so I just covered it up. you're welcome, by the way." Astarion defends, and it's almost believable. it might have been more believable if it didn't keep happening.

every time Wyll hands over a damaged piece of clothing to be repaired, it's returned to him with some new embroidery adorning it. it starts off subtle but after some time he has a collage of embroidery along his left pant leg, starting at his hip and extending further down towards his knee with every repair. the collar and both shoulders of his shirt are adorned with delicate designs in colourful thread. he also, notably, becomes a bit more careful in battle, not wanting to damage Astarion's embroidery.

once, an opponent manages to graze his shoulder with their blade, the cut isn't deep but it slices through his shirt. and through the embroidery. as soon as he glaces over and catches sight of the torn thread, he's furious. he dispatches the enemy quickly and rather ungracefully. when he hands the shirt over to Astarion to be repaired he's positively dejected. "swiped at my shoulder, I didn't manage to deflect it in time, cut straight through the embroidery..."

Astarion clicks his tongue, assessing the damage, "no respect for craftsmanship these days..."

when he returns the shirt most of the old design has been picked out and replaced with a new one. a simpler design, Wyll notes, likely easier to repair if it were to get damaged again. he admires it with the same appreciation as the first. "is your shoulder alright, by the way?" Astarion asks rather suddenly.

"hm? oh, yes, barely grazed it. nothing a bandage and a night or two's rest won't fix."

"good." the silence that follows is almost palpable. so many unspoken words, concern, affection, hanging in the space between them. "well. do try to be more careful." Astarion finally says, then hastily adds "at this rate I'm going to run out of thread before I get a chance to get more."

Wyll smiles softly at him. (so softly it makes Astarion's chest ache) "of course." (the idea that Astarion cares about his safety makes Wyll's chest ache as well)

[rayveneyed]

continuation of this au

cw: mentions of cheating/infidelity/disloyalty; vague allusions to sex

“so, like, what’s his deal?”

two months into your relationship with sukuna ryomen, you’re personal-assistant-turned-friend carries a bouquet of a hundred red roses into your dressing room. they’re so large that they eclipse her entire top half, and she pants as she sets them down on the table, cursing to herself.

it’s the first night of your mini-tour, your first performance in a good few months, and you don’t bother pretending that the sight of the flowers doesn’t soothe your nerves immediately. there’s a little note attached to the pale-blue cellophane that hugs the flowers; in his chicken-scratch, a love letter. i already know you’ll knock it out of the park. blow their minds, baby.

you read it over and over again, mind flitting between the set list for the night and where you’d been just days earlier — in his home, in his bed, in his arms. he’d sent you off well and truly satisfied, called you almost every day since, and hadn’t missed a single good morning text. and now, this. you fight a swoon.

hair laid — 1940s pin curls — and makeup done (a deep, oxblood red lip, really selling the whole vintage aesthetic), you lift your head to peer at her in the mirror. karmen really would kill you if you got foundation on your neckline — the first dress of the concert is white, glimmering with rhinestones and embroidery, a more virginal jessica rabbit moment. you force yourself to hold your chin up and away from it. “hm?”

“you know.” unscrewing the lid of her water bottle, nina waves it in a vague shape in front of her. “sukuna. ryomen, that is.”

“is there any other?” you joke. she sends you perhaps the most unimpressed look she’s ever bequeathed you with.

“i just never thought he’d be your type,” she continues, casual. “like, real oil and water vibes. i don’t know. but the roses are a nice touch.”

you hum. you’ve known her long enough to not take offence to most of what nina says -- she's wonderfully blunt, and you value that greatly. instead, you pick up your phone and open the camera app, zooming in and out to snap a couple of pictures of your flowers. exposure up, down, up, down -- should you take one at an angle? “oil and water?”

“yeah, i guess." there's a moment of silence, and then: "like — you’re always talking about how you wanna settle down and get married and, like, be loyal to someone, y'know? and he’s just — look, i’m not saying that he’s not loyal to you, i’m just—”

she makes a noise of frustration, and you snort. "he's just, like, a little bit of a whore, right? sorry, i don't mean to be mean -- but has he had a serious relationship in the past 10 years? and all of a sudden he’s talking about you to anyone who will listen — allegedly. allegedly.” she pauses. “how are you taking this so lightly? i'm literally bagging on your man."

finally, you set your phone down, and actually take a second to heed her words.

in truth, you had been extremely cautious when sukuna first showed an interest in you -- sat beside each other at a fashion show, never having met before. you'd be stupid to call it mere coincidence -- nothing in this industry ever really is, and the organisers had definitely gotten the photo op moment they'd hoped for. you're almost 100% sure they hadn't expected for him to stare at you like an idiot, or for you to shoot him your most demure smile, or for the actor to pull out his most casanova-esque moves.

you're not stupid, and what nina says isn't wrong. you're not into hooking up, or one night stands, or being another notch on someone's bedpost -- you weren't before you got famous, and you sure as hell aren't now, when there are cameras around every corner and gossips at every table. and sukuna isn't exactly known for his long-standing relationships or his monogamy -- it's almost like a rite of passage, you think, for a girl to have a shadowy nightclub picture taken with sukuna. if not a shadowy nightclub picture, then a steamy pool shot, or a sensual beach picture, with his hands up her t-shirt and her's down his pants.

despite his general bad-boy appearances in the media, you'd heard that he was quite… kind, if that’s the word. brash, but kind. a little hardheaded, but hard-working, and not too difficult to work with. you've met music video directors that had sung his praises and trusted producers that had called him a good friend. maybe that's why you'd spoken to him when you caught him staring, instead of sending him a smile and continuing on.

"is this your first time at a mugler show?" because it had been yours, and you didn't know what else to say. you wouldn't call yourself shy, but you're certainly not the most adept at small talk -- and you're not ugly, but sukuna is intimidatingly pretty for a man. and the tattoos, and the hair, and those smouldering eyes and long lashes...

"not my first,” he'd replied, seemingly unbothered that he had been caught staring. "y’know, i don't think we've met before."

"no, i don't think we have.”

and yet, there’d been no need for introductions. you were both aware that the other knew who you were.

"you, uh — you doin' somethin' after this?" the question had come out of nowhere -- at least, to you it did. what you didn't know is that he'd been repeating the question to himself from the moment he'd sat down beside you. and while his face didn't betray anything -- his jaw set and his eyes in their usual half-lidded state -- if you'd reached out and placed a palm over his chest, his heartbeat would have rabbitted against your hand.

you had allowed yourself a smile, and tilted your head. of course, his reputation proceeded him — but you were nothing if not a risk taker. maybe that’s why, instead of outright denying his invitation, you said: “i don’t do casual, darling. sorry.”

his eyes had been almost piercing. that wasn’t a no. “who said anything about casual?”

you’d quirked an eyebrow. “really? you want to go steady with me?”

“why not?”

“you don’t even know me.”

“i want to.”

and fuck. it wasn’t the smartest decision in hindsight, leaving the show so openly with him — but you did, arm in arm, and he hadn’t yet broken your trust. perhaps stupid of you, you didn’t believe he would.

“y’know,” you say, snapping out of your memories. you’re back in your dressing room, clutching his card in hand, staring at your reflection. “i don’t know what it is. i don’t know why he suddenly changed his tune. i don’t know why it was with me. and — well, i know he won’t, but if one day he leaves me for some waify scandi model, i’ll know he didn’t really change at all.”

nina nods, slow, like she finally understands. “you’re going in headfirst.”

“yeah, i guess.”

“that shit’s scary.”

“yeah.” you lift the card to your face again, thumb smoothing over where he’d scrawled your name, the little heart where he signed his love. your cheeks feel hot. you know there’s a facetime call waiting for you when you’re back at the hotel, tucked into bed and sleepy. “it’s really not so bad, at the end of the day.”

[mydadleft471]

For The Love Of A Daughter: Chapter 2

Summary: After waking up from what you were sure was a dream, you receive an invitation from your Lord and host.

Spoilers for Elden Ring and SOTE (got tired of writing out the full name lmao). No warnings, just a soft morning and Sianet being the best.

It seemed like people really liked my first chapter, so boom, have another! Have some Sianet backstory! (Bonus points if you look up the meaning of her name). Have my clueless ass trying to describe clothing! Have some good feels! God I love this man. Next chapter breakfast date with snakes??? I think so!

As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging! It means so much to me. I hope you enjoy!

When you woke up this morning, you were terrified to open your eyes and find that yesterday’s events were a pleasant dream. But your fears were put to rest once you realized it wasn’t a figment of your sleeping imagination. Jasmine was still next to you, her small body tucked into yours. Her face is peaceful. Smiling, you carefully shift your way out of bed so you don’t wake her by accident.

The marble floor is cold on your bare feet and it helps you wake up. You hadn’t noticed last night, but you had a balcony. Opening the beautiful glass door, you’re greeted by the sweet morning sunshine and fresh air. You look over the landscape before you, and it’s only now you realize its quiet beauty. The grass, tinted a delicate gold, sways in the breeze. Below, you can see a few animals grazing and some of Messmer’s soldiers patrolling. Even a place such as this can hold some semblance of serenity.

Your thoughts are torn towards the sound of your door opening. You pull your robe around you tighter and smile when you realize your visitor is Sianet.

“Good morning. I trust you slept well?” Her pleasant, motherly voice echoes around the room. Her hair is tied up today.

“I did, thank you. Jasmine’s still asleep.” You gesture towards the small bump in the sheets.

“Poor thing, she must have been exhausted.” You notice her eyes are a pale blue, almost white. They’re beautiful.

She has clothing draped over her arm and a small bag slung over her back, and when your gaze shifts to it, she smiles. She moves to the gold wardrobe to the left of your bed with light steps. You follow her.

“Lord Messmer had our seamstress make new clothing for you and Jasmine. Right now, you only have a few options, but in a few days, you should have a full wardrobe to choose from.” She carefully lays out your clothing on the large vanity table, a few elegant tunics with delicate embroidery, and a couple pairs of pants with gold stitching. She opens her bag and reveals a pair of leather boots for you and some sandals for Jasmine.

You hear a loud yawn behind you and you turn to see Jasmine stretching and slowly making her way out of bed. Once she notices that you and Sianet are awake, she toddles her way over to you both.

“Good morning, Jasmine.” You reach down to smooth out her horrible bedhead. 

“Hi. What are you guys doing?” She yawns again.

“I brought some clothes for you, little one. Would you like to see?” Sianet gestures to the remaining clothes on her arm.

Jasmine’s eyes light up and she bounces excitedly. She is no longer tired at the mention of gifts, it seems. “Please! I wanna see!”

Sianet laughs and begins to lay out the little dresses. All of them are beautiful and they all vary in color. Some are somber greens and reds, but there are a few colored lilac and cerulean. The seamstress did a wonderful job. Jasmine carefully touches each and every one, awe evident in her eyes. 

“These are all for me?” She speaks like she can barely believe her eyes.

“Yes, and you may wear whichever one you’d like.” Sianet lays a gentle hand on her back.

“Can I wear the purple one? I like purple.”

“You may. Let’s get you dressed up.” She smiles and looks back at you. She grabs a small envelope from her bag and hands it to you with a golden letter opener. There is a red wax seal on it with Messmer’s insignia.

“This is from Lord Messmer?”

“Yes,” she answers. “He instructed me to give it to you.”

“Thank you.” Sianet nods in response and begins to help Jasmine get dressed.

You walk back to the bed and sit, delicately dragging the letter opener across the top. With shaky hands, you unfold his letter and read his loopy writing.

Good morning. I hope thou hast found thy bed comfortable and sufficient for plentiful rest. I am writing to request thine presence at breakfast. Jasmine is welcome if it pleases thee. If thou art overwhelmed by my request, I shall not be offended if thou wisheth to spend this day in isolation. Give thine answer to Sianet, and she shall see to it that whatever thy choice, thee and thine child shall eat.

Lord Messmer

He was writing to invite you to breakfast? Your heart raced and you found yourself nervous. He is a Lord, and he wants to have breakfast with you and Jasmine? You’re not worried for your safety, he’s proven that he doesn’t want to hurt you or her, but you’re afraid that you will offend him. You have no clue on proper eating etiquette outside of the basic don’t chew with your mouth full. 

Jasmine bounds up to you, flaunting her new dress. The delicate lilac compliments her green eyes, and you smile. She looks so happy.

“What do you think?” She spins around so you can see the entire dress.

“You look like a princess, sweetie.” She beams at your praise and dances around the room, her skirt swishing and swaying with every movement.

Sianet approaches you, laughing at Jasmine. “What would you like to wear today?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. Lord Messmer asked if we’d like to join him for breakfast, but I’m not royalty. I don’t know proper etiquette and I’m terrified I’ll offend him.”

“Lord Messmer never requests anyone’s presence for breakfast. You would be a special exception, therefore I don’t think he’d be offended if you went.”

“I’m not worried about going. He’s very polite and he’s given us so much already. I’m worried I’ll do something or say something wrong.”

Sianet sits down beside you on the bed and grabs your hands in hers. She smiles softly at you. “I cannot make this decision for you, but I have known Lord Messmer for a very long time, and he is not like his enemies describe him. He is sweet and considerate, though you’ve seen this already. I ask you trust yourself and not give into these anxious thoughts.”

She had a point. Maybe you were just allowing yourself to spiral.

“How long have you known him?” You ask.

“Goodness, I’m not sure anymore. I was his nanny when he was around Jasmine’s age.”

Your brows almost launch off your face in shock. She looks good for her age.

“You took care of him when he was little?”

“Oh, yes. Marika-” she stops herself, huffing. “Queen Marika wasn’t around much during his childhood. She had responsibilities that took priority over her son, I suppose.” She trails off. You can almost taste her disgust in the air and the scowl on her lovely face looks unnatural for someone so sweet.

“What was he like as a child?” 

Her smile returns immediately. She squeezes your hands. “He was well-behaved, most of the time. He loved to read more than anything. Some children prefer to be social and play, but his favorite spot was the library, somewhere quiet and secluded. To this day, he enjoys reading above most things.”

“Hey, I like books too!” Jasmine climbs up onto the bed, eager to join the conversation.

“Perhaps you can ask Lord Messmer to lend you some at breakfast.” Sianet quirks her brow at your words.

“You’ve decided then?” There’s a hopeful glimmer in her voice.

“It would be impolite to refuse after all he’s done for us.”

“We’re going to have breakfast with Lord Messmer?” Jasmine leans her head against your shoulder and you wrap an arm around her.

“Yes we are. Is that okay with you?”

“Mhmm! He’s nice. Very tall, but nice. Do you think he’d let me pet his snakes?”

“Maybe, but we have to be very polite, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods, then looks down at your robe. “You’re not going to go to breakfast like that, are you?”

You laugh and squeeze her arm lightly. “No, I am not.”

You rise to get dressed, leaving Sianet to brush and tame Jasmine’s hair. You look in the mirror and you realize you should probably do something with your hair, too. You comb it back and make it look presentable, then slip on a dark green tunic and black pants. The gold embroidery on it dances along the fabric, making you look almost regal. Your new clothes are quite comfortable, and you take one more look into the mirror. You’re pleased at the results.

You pull on some soft cotton socks and then your boots. They’re a perfect fit. Maybe the seamstress knows magic?

You return to Jasmine and you see Sianet carefully braiding her hair. She’s pulling the long brown hair into a braided bun, which looks beautiful. You’d have to have her teach you how to do that sometime. At the mention of her hair being done, Jasmine runs towards the vanity and climbs into the chair, shaking her head back and forth to try and see the bun. You chuckle and hand her a small mirror, turn her around, and when she sees her hair, she lets out an audible gasp and looks on, transfixed.

“You look wonderful.” Sianet compliments you.

“Thank you. Would you tell Lord Messmer that we’d love to join him for breakfast?”

She smiles and bows her head. “I’ll tell him right away.”

She exits quickly, steps light and hurried. The door shuts behind her and you try your best to keep anxiety at bay.

Jasmine tiptoes over to you and grabs your hand. You look down and smile at her.

“I think you look wonderful, too.”

“Thank you, sweetie. You always make me feel better.” 

She thunks her head against your hip. “So do you.”

[fanaticsnail]

Hi, I was wondering if I could ask Crocodile for kissing booth, please? He's the Best Croco-Daddy!! LOVE HIM!!! He was my first crush aside from King and Ace, and I can't wait for him in the Live ACTION!!!!

The Kissing Booth - Sir Crocodile for Cartoonykat

Word Count: 700+

Notes: I am so excited to see where they're gonna go with him in the live action too! He's so mean, ferocious and terrifying, but look at how kind he is towards animals (One piece comic issue 860). Come and get some possessive Croco-kisses, Cartoonykat!

The thud of expensive leather hitting the gravel road with each heavy, crunching footfall had your ears stand alert to attention. A soft clink of cool metal meeting your glass jar at your side prompted your brows to draw focussed and lips to purse in focus at the person in front of you.

“Tsk, what’s this?” you heard a disapproving and unimpressed voice call to the side of you, “2,000 Berry for a kiss? That hardly seems a reasonable price for such a feat.” You furrow your brows in a deep frown at the presumed criticism at the notion of an exchange of affection for Berry. 

“If you don’t like the idea of donating Berry to charity,” your pout was heard in each of your articulated words, “Kindly move along and make way for someone who does.” A soft rumbled chuckle reverberates in the chasms of your guests chest as a puff of sour smoke clouds your lungs. You cough and wince at the cruel intrusion in your breath, but attempt to brave your face.

“On the contrary,” the stranger uttered, placing a handful of papers and coins within the jar, “I would deem your lips of far greater value than such a meager amount.” The sizzle of smoke dimming rose in your ears, your blindfold truly inhibiting your ability to know the expression on the face of your new guest. 

“Oh?” you ask him, folding your arms and crossing your legs as you recline against the barstool, “And what value would you place on my lips, sir- oh!” You squeak as you feel him cage you beneath him, his overpowering aura dominating you at your booth. 

“Let’s find out, shall we?” he whispered against your lips, immediately surging forward and capturing your breath with a bruising and intense kiss. 

Gripping the base of your stool for support, you feel something metal circle the back of your neck and draw your face up to meet him. His right hand reached down to the stool, clasping around your hand and gently squeezing your digits in a bid to have you release your chair and draw your hand up within his.

He raises your hand, placing your palm flat on his chest above his heart, while he gently brushes his nose with yours. Angling his face, he gently coaxes more intensity from you with each intentional and possessive motion. 

Your hand gently caresses his chest, feeling the textures and materials of silks, satins and embroidery embellishing his broad stature. He hums into your lips, the gentle touch against his body contrasting the ravaging he was pressing into your lips. 

He releases your lips from his intense oscillation, pressing one final ounce of contradicting sweetness in a soft kiss before pulling away entirely. Your lips remain parted and partially bruised, breath hitching and panting to come down from such an amassment of passion so overwhelmingly hastily placed against you. 

“Hm, what would be an appropriate fee to pay for such overwhelming sweetness?” he uttered against you, a chuckle depicted in his tone. You felt the metal object gently scrape your skin as he withdrew it from circling your neck. 

“While I would say you’re priceless,” he snickered gently, his hand reaching up and pinching your chin, “I would never dream of stooping so low to relay such humor as a bid to flatter you.” You heard a few more leaves fall into the jar. “Especially since you are worth much more than pretty words and a handful of Berry.” 

The figure retreated, leaving you sitting stunned beneath your blindfold and processing what just occurred between you and them: You took his initial words as an insult, depicting your disdain by insulting him, prompting him to flatter you with pretty words before and after claiming your lips with his. 

Your perplexion would remain with you for the remainder of the day, only growing more intense when you realized just how much Berry was in the jar at the end of the night. The hulking figure of Sir Crocodile would not leave his generosity and gratuity left unclaimed, and would return to you as your shift finishes at the end of the night to claim more kisses from you - if that was truly what you desired from him.

[sorensolsikke]

here's some punk diy tips and ideas

[other than crusty pants and battle jacket, although we still love those greatly.]

why should you diy, when you can just find decorated items everywhere, you can ask. what if you are clumsy at painting or anything?

firstly, good questions. we diy so we don't give credit to the big companies who rule the world. we diy to get more independent from the system we dislike. we diy so to save money. to express uniqueness, recognize eachother and be recognized. and especially to have fun and feel cool. diy is not only about clothing, but anything you can set your mind on. of course, one cannot make EVERYTHING for themselves, there isn't enough time and energy. but making at least small steps are already a statement and more than nothing. also, helping small artists by buying their products is also pretty punk.

that being said, i provide you with some tips of mine, all gained from experience:

anything you drew/painted on, you will WANT TO protect. acrylic paint/markers + acrylic paint varnish/transparent nail polish/textile medium are your best friends. read after anything that's new to you.

i highly recommend working with old clothing or thrift shop finds when it comes to textiles, as it is environmentally friendly and you will stay in budget. Anyways, always make sure that the material you use isn't gonna be problematic. for example, if you want to do some patchwork, the material shouldn't decay easily (if it does, it will come off so quickly.). if you want to paint on it, it shouldn't be rugged.

you can not only draw/paint on your canvas shoes, but can also sew, embroidery (just make sure to use a thimble, plus floss instead of thread could make your work more durable), and add beads and trinkets to your shoelaces. in the case of shoes, never use glue (neither hot nor instant glue) – it will come off quickly. for some inspiration, i'll show you my shoes!

(the fake moss is literally unstoppable from falling off or getting dirty. risky idea.)

it's good to carry around water and food!! you don't even have to pay for decorative water bottles and food boxes, as you can draw on glass and plastic just fine with acrylic markers. just don't forget to paint transparent nail polish all over your drawing. in at least two layers. don't be lazy or laid-back. even posca comes off while washing the dishes. and you WANT TO save your reference pictures/final designs, as the case of emergency is likely. but after all, my water bottle is exactly fine after six months, with no accuring problem.

if your current best option to get stickers from is aliexpress or overpriced decor stores, search for local artists and shops on instagram and tiktok, as it may be their most efficent way of getting you to know them. if it seems like you have no chance, you may can still find a print shop with the option of printing on self-adhesive sheets (at least in hungary, those are pretty cheap). and if you want drawings to print out as stickers, you may use your own or –ONLY IF YOU GET PERMISSION– other artist's work. not only good for decorations for like, headphones, but for vandalism too. WAIT WAIT who said that. who said it. not me. no never

(in case that's also impossible, you can create stickers by printing out/drawing a picture, cover it up in transparent adhesive tape, and then put some two-sided adhesive tape on the white side of the pic. it won't be that durable, but it functions.)

if you want to bleach-paint clothing, get some plastic brushes!! any other brush dissolves. draw your design first with chalk!! never forget to put cardboard inside the clothing, and to wash the finished work in a washing machine before you'd put it on. prepare to be patient with the process. and it's not dangerous to touch 5%-9% household bleach, just wash your hands soon after.

if you want your crusty pants to last veryyy long, wax them. look up on youtube jeans waxing.

some more things i made for myself so to give you some inspiration: totebag with pockets, a small crystal holder cabinet, badges, and i decorated some t-shirts, button-ups, an id card case, phonecase, laptop.

theoretically speaking, there is nothing that an individual would be unable to learn how to make, when it comes to diy. you can't imagine how easy it is to bake bread at home. consuming-focused media makes people believe that it's hard to make anything. of course, everyone has to decide about their own priorities, i don't want to convince or change anyone in here. and if you have any questions, send an ask!! i hope i had been helpful.

[alxtiny]

Her Favourite Muse | Kim Hongjoong x reader

Synopsis: where you dedicate your work to your favourite muse

Pairing: kim hongjoong x fashion designer!reader, domestic au

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: none :)

Notes: happy late birthday to captain hongjoong!! How i wish to be on time someday :’)

Main masterlist

You sat huddled up on the sofa in your design studio. It was almost 2 am, but you had work to do, your hands danced furiously against the paper, the silhouette of your thoughts coming alive. You had just one person in mind, Hongjoong. He was a man who had always stood apart, unapologetically himself in every way. He loved fashion, it was more than just clothes to him. Pieces that were bold, daring, and didn’t conform to conservatism, spoke to him, just like they did to you. He was your greatest muse. It was his way of self-expression, and that’s exactly why you knew you had to do something special for his birthday.

What once was a passing thought, a future project, was now put in motion: a whole collection, inspired by Hongjoong. Every stitch, every cut, every detail would hold pieces of the way he wore his individuality on his sleeve.

…

You were in the final stages of your Kim Hongjoong-inspired collection. The pieces were diverse—bold colors, asymmetrical cuts, intricate details that were both elegant and abstract . There were jackets with painted backs, pants that played with patches and nets, and shoes that made a statement. It was his style, but also your creative interpretation of it. You had even incorporated some of his signature elements and subtle references to the Ateez lore.

Your social media had been buzzing with reactions of fans from the subtle hints you had been dropping, but Hongjoong had no idea what was coming. He’d noticed the occasional post about your ‘new collection,’ but you’d kept the specifics under wraps. And he’d played along, always asking teasing questions, but you’d only smile and change the subject, thankfully he wouldn’t pry further.

…

It was finally 7th November, Hongjoong’s birthday and the eve of the release of your new collection. The day had been eventful, with the drop of Hongjoong’s wonderwall cover and his birthday live, Atiny were already pretty hyped about his birthday, but you had something more exciting to wait for.

After all the main festivities, you pulled him aside, a twinkle of excitement in your eyes. "Hey, I need you to come with me for a bit. There’s something I want you to try on." You dragged him to your home studio, made him stand on the small revolving step in the middle of the room and pulled out a rack with a few outfits.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. "Hmm? What’s with this sudden fashion show?" he asked with a playful smile.

You turned to him. “Please, just trust me, okay? You’re gonna love this.”

He narrowed his eyes at you but relented anyway. “Alright, alright. I’m ready for whatever you’ve got in mind."

You walked him through each piece, carefully pulling them out one by one. The first outfit was an asymmetrical cut vest with light marbled golden accents, along with black denim pants that slit down the sides and were stitched to a shimmery tulle to give it a flare. It was perfect on him, crafted exactly to his tastes.

“Try it on quickly,” you urged him, grinning as he hesitated.

Hongjoong slipped into the outfit, and your eyes flickered with anticipation. The fabric hugged his frame, and the gold glimmered under the studio lights. But you weren’t done yet. You handed him a pair of heeled boots with similar patterns as the vest and intricate embroidery along the edges. You finished by adding a few chains and tied scarves around the pants as accessories.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” Hongjoong murmured, turning in the mirror. "But, wait, what is this for...?"

You gave him an aloof smile. “Just wait.”

Outfit after outfit, you had him try on more pieces. Some aiming for comfort, some for elegance and others for rebellion. Each piece was meant to feel like him: distinct, unpredictable, and designed with a touch of eccentricity.

Hongjoong laughed softly as he slipped into one final ensemble: a deep navy velvet jumpsuit with embroidered constellations on the back, shimmering under the light. "This looks like something out of a dream," he said in awe. "But really... why all this?"

“You’ll see,” you said. "All in good time."

…

The next day, you were at your office, brainstorming for new ideas, when your assistant burst into your room, her eyes wide. “You have to see this! Your new collection—it’s trending everywhere!”

Excited, you quickly pulled up your brand’s website and Instagram, and your heart skipped a beat. The entire collection had just been officially announced, it was posted a few hours earlier than you expected and it was already causing a stir across the fashion community.

The site was flooded with preorders, and your social media accounts were exploding with likes, comments, and shares. Fans were already calling the collection "out of this world," with many pointing out how the designs resembled Hongjoong’s style, calling it pieces from his closet.

You felt your heart swell with pride, knowing that Hongjoong had indeed inspired every single piece.

Your phone buzzed, and you immediately answered. It was Hongjoong.

“Is this... is this really all for me?” His voice cracked, and you could hear the emotion in it. "This... this is my birthday gift? You sure are sneaky"

You could hear the disbelief in his voice, but also the love and gratitude. “It’s all you,” you replied softly. “I wanted you to know how much you inspire me, and how much I love you.”

Hongjoong was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. “I don’t know what to say… thank you. Thank you for this, and for always believing in me, loving me the way you do. I love you so much.”

You face held a lovesick grin. “I love you too, Hongjoong. More than anything.”

…

You decided to share some of the behind-the-scenes moments on your personal Instagram. Pictures of Hongjoong in few of the outfits—laughing, posing, showing off the bold looks with a sparkle in his eye. There were shots of you two together, of other times, his arms wrapped around you as you worked.

You captioned the post with a simple, heartfelt message: "To my favourite muse - Happy birthday to the one who inspires me every day, in every way. This collection is for you, Hongjoong, because no one does it quite like you."

The likes and comments poured in, as fans showered you both with love. Atiny was overjoyed, seeing their favorite couple share such a beautiful, heartfelt moment.

Hongjoong, browsing through your post, wrote under it: “I’ll cherish this forever. Thank you for everything. - Your favourite muse”

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

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DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

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[youryanderedaddy]

Give, Take, Borrow

Summary: You wake up in Bane's castle. Chaos ensues. Sequel to Love, Loss, Fire. Commissioned piece. tw: nsfw, female reader, non - con, captivity, possessive behavior, vampires, degradation, threats, choking, spanking, mind break

Your eyes scanned the room for any sense of familiarity - for a sight of dust, of color, of imperfection; of humanity. But there was nothing for you to take in. The walls were covered in gold and rubies, and the smell of velvet and blood tainted the heavy air with pure sin. You looked down at yourself, shivering all over. You were completely bare, except for the flimsy silk robe covering your shoulders. The realization that he must have put it on you while you were unconscious left you with a sense of cold dread, but you didn’t have the courage to think beyond that. 

The room was empty, for better or worse. You were feeling dizzy and disoriented, and one quick look at the clock confirmed your fears - it was already well past midnight. You had slept for more than 20 hours, your body completely exhausted after the attack. You took a deep breath before brushing the warm blanket aside - you couldn’t keep hiding forever, even if the thought of facing the monster made your skin crawl.

You stepped on the soft fluffy carpet, enjoying the way it felt against your cold feet - but then you stared deeper into the fabric and recognised it as bear fur. Frowning, you stepped aside as the disgust washed over you. So you weren’t the only prize in the lion’s den - you were just the one left breathing. For now.

Eventually you managed to reach the mirror after crawling around, scared as can be. Terrified to look at the state the vampire had left you in. You slowly let the gown slip past your shoulders, revealing your naked figure. Staring back at you was an unrecognizable face and a body that didn’t seem to belong to you anymore. The black - blue bruises and red bloody hickeys stuck to your skin like a cruel reminder of your new reality. 

You couldn’t stand to look at yourself anymore so you averted your gaze to the table. There was placed a small porcelain plate, filled with cheese and grapes, along with a thin glass of red wine. Next to it there was a note drenched in thick black ink - so thick it was seeping through the paper onto the fine wood underneath. It read “You can find me in the ballroom.”, but the splashes of blood all over made it clear that the real command behind it was “Come find me in the ballroom. Or else.” 

Inhale. Exhale. You had to keep a clear mind - as of now you were the only one you could trust. Lost were the days when you could use another person’s warmth. You were on your own, caged by the enemy.

Your attention was drawn to the chair next to the bed. On it carefully laid was the most beautiful dress you had ever seen - long and delicate with thin golden embroidery sewn into the sleeves, and a tight corset that left little to the imagination. It wasn’t hard to guess who left it here for you to find. The vampire was probably anticipating your arrival by now, picturing you all dressed up for him like a little doll. Too bad that you would rather die before giving into his twisted desires for a second time.

You tried to look around for your own clothes, but soon remembered that they had been destroyed the night before. You had no choice - you had to go through the closet. You grabbed the first white shirt you could find, as well as a pair of brown pants. They didn’t exactly fit properly, too big on your frame, but it was still better than wearing the dress Bane had picked out for you. 

You finally reached for the doorknob, hesitating for a moment. You didn’t want to obey the noble’s demand, but you were starving - you hadn’t eaten in days. Besides, you already knew the vampire’s nature - if you were to rebel, he would simply come and drag you away, kicking and screaming. At least this way you retained some level of control over the situation. You got to choose when, where and how he got to play with you; not the other way around.

* * *

You found yourself lost between hundreds of similar looking corridors, all either purple or red, equally grand, even posh. You had to stop yourself from staring at every single painting, photo or antique on the way - but the absolute abundance of the labyrinth made you feel like it was specifically designed to both fascinate and confuse. And just like that, out of the blue someone yanked your arm and shoved you into the nearest wall with little care about your fragile human body.

“What do we have here?” The stranger stepped outside of the shadows, and even before you could see his face, you already felt uneasy. “Seems like a pretty little human. How amusing.” His companion, the one who attacked you, responded swiftly, and the nasal purr in his voice set all the alarms in your mind off. You had to get away - quickly.

You tried to squirm out of the grasp, but the vampire holding you was simply too strong. The room echoed their nasty, mocking chuckles and you could feel their cold hands running down your body at the same time - groping at your hips, your chest, your thighs; their fingers wrapping your hair into a fist and pulling. 

“Not so fast, pretty girl.” One of the nobles hissed in your ear as he bared your throat, preparing to sink his fangs deep into the warm, blood - filled flesh. And then you heard it - your scream. A deep, guttural scream that reached the ceiling and bounced off the chandelier. 

Not even a second later you found yourself freed, and fell to the ground, breathing heavily. You looked up to see a familiar face extending a strong, muscular hand towards you. And you took it, albeit gingerly.

“Is everything alright, gentlemen?” Bane asserted rather than asked, leaning against the wall. His presence was cold and perfectly collected, the oppressive air around him dominating over his subordinates’ evident bloodlust - the only sign of annoyance hidden behind his crimson orbs. Immediately the two men straightened their backs, appearing docile - obedient before their master as they nodded to no end, too scared to make a sound. You wanted to laugh, but the little voice telling you that you were no different from them made it die down at your throat. 

“Great. You’re free to go now.” The hunter smiled, and your heart dropped. You had never seen such a cold smile before - a smile that could kill. It didn’t take long for the vampires to leave in a hurry, mouthing excuses, dumbfounded and ashamed. Now it was just you and your captor, alone in the endless corridor with no way out, his undivided attention on you once again. You gulped dryly.

“You left me alone.” You were the first to break the silence, looking around awkwardly. It was silly to feel shy at this very moment - you had fought that man, he had seen you at your most vulnerable, panting and helpless. And the situation wasn’t all that different now. You were still vulnerable. You were still helpless before him.

“I thought you didn’t want me around.” The monster replied, playfully raising one eyebrow - yet the coldness didn’t leave his eyes. It always stuck like a permanent reminder not to trust the demon. 

“And yet you called for me.” You snapped back, clicking your tongue. It was easier to give into your frustration than to bare your fears in front of him. “The note?” Bane pretended to think about it for a second, but it was obviously just a game of tag. “That was simply a suggestion, my darling.” He chuckled, and you whispered “bullshit” - but even if he heard it, he didn’t say anything, instead opting for offering you his forearm. You took it, sighing. It was going to be a long evening. 

* * *

The noble lead you to the table, pulling the chair and gesturing for you to sit. You rolled your eyes, but complied - you were so starved you felt like you would do anything for some food. Fortunately, the table was filled up - meats, sweets, fruits, candy, tarts, puddings, liquor… Anything your heart could desire, just like he had promised that night. 

Bane crossed his hands, tilting his head to the side - and just like that a glass of wine appeared between his thin fingers. He smirked at your agape expression.

“Go on.” He looked straight at you as he took a big sip. “Explain yourself, dear. Humor me.” He drowned the glass hungrily, licking his lips - his teeth so white they seemed to glow in the dark with a dangerous light. Alluring. Entrancing. “W-who-what are you talking about?” You stumbled over your words, completely puzzled. “I am talking about you, of course. You’re wandering half naked, carrying around the sweetest fucking scent in a castle full of vampires.” The vampire gave you a crooked grin, and you could feel your cheeks getting warm and your head fuzzy. 

“You’re either stupid…” He clicked his fingers and his glass filled up with wine again. “Brave…” He paused to play with the glass. “Or looking for attention.” The glass started shattering under the pressure of his fingers, the broken pieces cutting into his skin - but he didn’t seem to care as he let it fall to the ground. “So which one is it, hm?” His eyes were pinning you in place, unable to move as if hypnotized again. “Answer carefully, little one. My jealousy can be… destructive.”

You blinked twice, unable to believe he was actually accusing you of asking for this unwanted attention. “I was just trying to find the dining hall!” You tried to explain, growing agitated. “It was never my intention to run into those bloodsucking bas–”

“How am I supposed to believe that now, hmm?” The predator cut you off, the ghost of a smile haunting his lips as he teleported right in front of you. Your heart was beating like crazy. “If I hadn’t interfered, it would have been their hands feeling you up right now.” He roughly squeezed your shoulder as if trying to bring you down. “Their hands touching what’s mine.” His expression darkened in the split of an eye, making you shiver all over. “What rightfully belongs to me.” You winced, the pain becoming too much to bear. You opened your mouth, but didn’t know what to say.

“Why didn’t you wear the dress I left for you, pet?” The hunter growled, loosening his grip on you - yet taking a step closer at the same time. Now he was simply towering over you, his shadow hiding you from the outside world. 

“I am not a-ah doll you can just dress up however y-you want!” You declared, putting on a brave face - but the shakiness in your voice made it sound just like a whimsical little whine. Bane put his hands around the handles of the chair, caging you in. The atmosphere suddenly grew quiet and sinister. “And do you feel better now, love?” He smiled maliciously. “Wearing my clothes?”

You froze in place. His clothes?

“I didn’t know they were yours–” You started, but his cold breath down your neck made you go silent - limbless. “Of course you fucking didn’t.” Bane hissed, his hips buckling against nothing - you could see the bulge in his pants, and your cheeks instantly reddened. “Do you know how much you smell like me right now?” He groaned, eyes glowing scarlet in the dark of the marble room. “Have you got any idea just how ravishing you look?” He whispered lowly, revealing his fangs to your throat - coming so close you could feel the sharp tips graze against the sensitive skin.

“You may think it’s a coincidence… but it’s really not.” His fangs were dancing over your trembling flesh, too faint to pierce through. “You see, darling, your core has been calling out to me since the day we met.” His fingers entangled into your hair, caressing it gently. “It wants to be taken. Claimed.” You closed your eyes, anticipating the scorching hot pain and then… nothing. Bane let go of you.

Oh how he loved playing with his food - you were starting to see the pattern. You would have been pissed if you weren’t shaking like a leaf, teary - eyed and all. You took yet another deep breath.

“Oh, relax, darling.” The noble mocked, shoving a salver towards you. “I simply can’t have you so soon. That would be terribly rude.” He laughed to himself, taking a step back. You wanted to kill him, and yet your stupid heart wouldn’t stop racing beyond control. “I am a gentleman after all.” He followed your gaze to the plate in front of you. “Here, take a bite.” He commanded, unexplainable excitement in his eyes. 

You were scared to indulge in the feast, and yet the meat looked so good. So soft and buttery on an empty stomach. You finally gained the courage to bite into it, your face distorting into a grimace the moment the taste hit your tongue. It was raw. Bloody and raw. 

The vampire smiled.

“I wanna go home.” You let out a snuffling sob, covering your face with your sleeve. “Please, you have to let me go. I can’t live like this.” You pleaded with your eyes open wide, softening your gaze to appear even more pitiful - for a moment you tried to forget you were dealing with a cold, unforgiving monster. “And where will you go, dear girl?” Bane hummed, not bothering to even look at you. “Your parents are dead and your so - called friends are probably being sold as blood slaves as we speak.” He smiled to himself in a mysterious way, as if reminiscing. 

“Besides, all the territories around your home are stormed by high officials. All cruel bastards, mind you - can’t say we’re the best of friends. Too brutish for my taste really.” He put his hands together, voice sweet as honey. “Do you know what they’d do to a pretty, defenseless little thing like you?” The hunter asked, crossing his arms. You gulped, unsure if you were supposed to answer. 

“They can’t be worse than you.” You snapped, clenching your fists. Just the mention of your closest people and their bitter fate made your whole body burn like an open wound. “At least they would quickly kill me.” You uttered with venom, hoping it would hurt him the way he had hurt you so many times already. “Without forcing me to play house first.” You continued, a smug, self assured grin finding its way to your tired face. In a way you did feel proud of yourself. The noble, on the hand, was silent - he hadn’t lost his mischievous cheerfulness, but there was a certain uncontained vengeance in his eyes. 

“Shall we play a little game, dearest?” He whispered, reaching out to hold your hand - gently. “You seem to think that you’d be happier without me.” He squeezed down on your wrist slightly, applying just enough pressure to keep your eyes on his moving, threatening lips. “Even death is better than my love, right?” You shook your head, suddenly feeling cornered and exposed. “Oh, don’t go back on your word now, darling. You said it yourself.” He chuckled cruelly. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. In fact I think I will give you a chance to rid yourself of me.” He tilted his head playfully. “Aren’t I so generous?”

Your eyes lit up despite your best efforts to keep a poker face. “You’re playing with me again.” You decided to test the waters, squinting. “When have I lied to you, baby?” The man purred as his hands stretched to the side, revealing his muscles. Your eyes narrowed - you weren’t convinced. “I am serious. Listen to me now - because I won’t repeat myself. I will give you a thirty - second head start. You can run as fast as you can. Or you can sit in the corner and cry for all I care. But if you truly know what’s good for you, you will find a way out of the forest.” He asserted, a little smile dancing on his lips. You bit yours, looking away as the tension grew so heavy you could feel it against your chest, beating the air out of your lungs.

“And if I don’t?” You mumbled, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer to your question. “Let your fantasy run wild.” His grin turned predatory. You could feel your palms sweating - but what other choice did you have? You had nothing to lose anymore. You inhaled deeply. “Catch me, demon.” You declared, high off the sudden adrenaline rush, and perhaps even a bit of dumb courage. “Catch me if you can.”

* * *

You were up on your feet and running before the vampire even started chanting those deadly numbers. The last memory you had was of him smirking sadistically - licking his lips as if already tasting your skin on his fangs. You went through countless doors, corridors and floors, but just that bitter little frame stuck at the bottom of your foggy brain was enough to send electricity up your body, fueling you to keep moving - never slowing down or looking back. And it all paid off, because after what felt like hours you somehow made your way out of the castle. The gates were wide open, as if waiting for you. The guards were under a deep trance. Bane, for once, was keeping his word - and giving you fair play. 

You looked around - every road led to the Cursed Forest, so you had no choice. You tried to recollect the map you had put together a few weeks ago while you were still on the run. If your mind wasn’t lying to you, the territories outside of the forest were neutral - they belonged to neither the humans nor the vampires, a war - free zone. If only you could get there before the monster caught up to you, freedom wouldn't be just a dream.

Shots fired, you took towards the old trees with a bold step. The oaks hugged you tightly, casting an ethereal shadow - hiding your steps. The song of the ravens stiffened and slowly died down. All the woodpeckers and owls returned to their hollows. Life stilled, poisoned by your humanity. Suddenly a prickly vine wrapped around your leg and you tripped, shortly falling down across a pile of dry leaves and twigs. You winced at the sharp pain, timidly looking down. Fuck.

Your ankle was bleeding, pierced by a thorn - but not just any thorn, an enchanted one; which meant only one thing. The venom was going to spread all over your leg in the next five seconds, dull and throbbing, and make it impossible to move around quickly. But even scarier was the fact that you could already hear heavy steps coming closer and closer, circling you in. 

“Just when I needed a drink.” A voice spoke out from the pitch black darkness, but it wasn’t your enemy’s. This voice was softer, silkier. It belonged to a fox-like predator rather than a demon. “Oh, you’re a pretty one at that.” The stranger exclaimed, coming closer. You crawled back with difficulty, but you were no match for the vampire who simply teleported right in front of you with inhuman speed. “We are going to have so much fun, bunny, you and I.” He whispered hungrily, grabbing your chin to expose your neck. How unlucky could you possibly be, running from one predator and falling right into another. You wanted to cry, but instead clenched your eyes tight, holding back the hot tears. If you were about to die, you were going to do so with dignity.

“Let go of her right now, Carter.” A growl echoed through the forest, raw and reeking of violence. You opened your eyes, gasping as you saw a very angry Bane sprinting towards you - but he wasn’t looking at you. His focus was entirely on the man who had attacked you. “Let her go or I swear I am going to gut you and burn you at the stake with my own two hands.” The hunter cursed loudly, forming a fist. You had never seen him so mad, so out of control - he had always been smug, calm and collected - even in the face of danger. Now he was so enraged his voice was practically shaking.

“Now this is interesting.” The stranger chuckled, tightening his grasp on you. “What is she to you, Baney?” He squeezed your jaw painfully, forcing you to look at him, an unreadable mischievous expression on his face. “A lover perhaps? Or just a shiny new toy?” He paused to send a threatening glare towards the noble. “It doesn’t matter to me, really. I found her first.” His finger traced the outline of your lips and you had to restrain yourself from biting his index off. “And we both know the Cursed lands are under my father’s reign.” A vicious chuckle escaped his throat. “Should have kept your dog on a tighter leash, duke.” Carter teased, letting his sharpened fangs rest against your jugular.

Bane looked almost as pained as you - his eyes hardened, softened, then hardened again. Completely black.

“Please, Smith.” Your captor uttered after a long moment of silence, tone breathy and full of… fear. “I will do anything. Just don’t hurt her.” He pleaded, fighting his own pride just to say those words - and then kept his back straight even as the prince laughed in response, full of mockery. “Anything?” The man repeated with a grin, his eyes lighting up eerily. The hunter mouthed “anything” back, seemingly dazed. “I will remember that, Edwards. You owe me big time.” He hissed, roughly shoving you towards the noble. He in turn nodded with his brows narrowed, catching you in his arms. 

Bane started dragging you off the bushes right away and you just let him, too tired and scared to fight. You almost died, and the scene kept replaying in your head over and over again. You just realized you were shaking, barely moving forwards. Your legs were staggering in place and the vampire was pulling you along. And just like that the tears were back - hot, burning, bursting out of your eyes like waterfalls.

“Bane, I am sorry.” You sniveled pitifully, trying to soften the blow. You didn’t even want to imagine what was going through the vampire’s head right now - just what tortures he had in store for you since you had failed, and you were undeniably his now. His to abuse, punish or forgive - and you were begging for the latter. “I was stupid, I shouldn’t have tried to–”

“Tried to what, huh?” Your enemy snorted, turning back to glare at you, eyes still fully black with red lines across the orb. “Tried to escape me? Tried to run away and then what exactly?” He laughed cruelly, a twinge of mania hidden behind his condescending tone. “Get it into your thick skull already - you’re nothing without me. You’re just a weak, fragile, breakable little girl who only survived for so long because I happened to find your clumsy attempts at rebelling amusing.” He snarled, violently pushing you against a tree before reaching for your collar and just pulling until you were forced to stand on your tip-toes - and even like that you were still so tiny compared to the monster. 

“T-that’s… that’s not true!” You started off, chest flushing with panic as you failed to keep him at distance. “I am not weak! I can survive on my own if you just let me!” You cried out, your head getting dizzy with humiliation. You didn’t know what hurt more - the insults or the physical force restraining you.

“Oh, of course, princess.” Bane grunted, sarcastic to the bone. His face looked completely overtaken by darkness, and a deep desire to rip into something soft and helpless. “You are so fucking strong, aren’t you? That’s why I had to save your ass twice, right? Why I had to bargain with my father’s biggest enemy? Because you’re just oh-so good at handling yourself, yeah?!” He kept taunting you, egging himself on - he found sick satisfaction in watching your little face twist in pain and regret. He wanted to hurt you the way you had hurt him when you chose to go along with the game. It was a test, and you failed tremendously. 

“Go on now.” The vampire whispered at last, tone suddenly low and diabolically sinister. “Show me just how strong you are.” He barked, pinning your hands above your head in a tight aching grip. He wanted you sore - he wanted you to learn once and for all that there was no fighting this, no escaping this fate. No way out of his love and obsession for you. “Come on, little girl.” He hissed, grabbing your bloody thigh and pressing in just the right place - staring in fascination as the blood poured out, dripping into a small puddle. “Show me what you’re made of.” 

“It h-hurts, Bane, please stop.” You sobbed, trying to pull your leg away - but your tormentor held it tightly against his chest. “Tsk, you’re hopeless. Can’t even handle a little pain.” He clicked his tongue playfully, but there was nothing jolly about his expression, much less the obvious bloodlust your agony seemed to fire up inside him. “Stay still, okay, pet?” The duke cooed, sharpening his teeth. “I wouldn’t want you to lose your pretty legs now.” He purred, imitating care. “But then again, maybe that’s what it’ll take to keep you with me.” A dark, guttural chuckle escaped his lips as the tips of his fangs grazed against your battered, throbbing skin.

“Bane, I am sorry!” You whimpered, desperation tugging at your heartstrings, the voice inside your head screaming at you to do whatever it takes to leave the scene unscathed. “I am sorry, please believe me.” You let the shameful tears fall down your cheeks, leaving them red and puffy. “You were right… I need you.” You sighed heavily, biting your tongue, so close to losing your sanity you could taste the madness along with the blood. “Oh, I need you.” You repeated through wet, misty eyelashes - and the world seemed glittery and shiny again.

“Not good enough, doll.” The predator scoffed, but soon let go of your leg, opting instead for your bare neck. His fist wrapped around it, squeezing at the pulse points. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to use you. I am going to make you feel dirty - disgusting even.” He tore your pants with ease, feral with need. “And I don’t want to hear a sound.” Your underwear was next to go, lost to the abyss of darkness and mud. “Today is about my pleasure and your obedience.” He took off his belt and fastened it around your sore wrists, paying little attention to your pathetic little whines. 

“N-no…” You uttered weakly, shivering as your body got exposed to the biting cold. “You knew what was going to happen if I caught you, no use complaining now.” Bane reminded you with a stern look as he brashly spread your legs and wrapped them around his hips. You could feel his throbbing manhood twitch against your entrance, and you instinctively tried to hide, but your muscles didn’t move an inch. 

The vampire spat on his hand, using it to stroke his cock to hardness - almost giddy at the mental image of his pre - cum painting your folds white. He shoved two rough fingers inside you, thrusting half - heartedly, and quickly pulled out - he still wanted you to feel the burn as he stretched you beyond belief. “That’s enough foreplay for a naughty, disobedient pet.” The noble remarked bitterly, pushing himself all the way inside you with two sharp moves of his hips. You didn’t have time to adjust to his massive length properly - you were forced to stay still and just take in every agonizing inch dragging against your tight channel. 

“Fuck, darling, you feel like heaven.”  Your enemy groaned quietly as your walls closed around his member, spasming involuntarily. “Humans… s-shit, humans say that love shouldn’t hurt but–” His grip around your throat tightened, making you choke on thin air. “I can’t help it when your pain is so fucking delicious.” He blabbered, drunk off lust, only stopping to pull out half - way and buckle into you again, tip brushing against your raw cervix and making you scream.

“Shhh.” The predator covered your mouth to muffle the sound, and his hand connected to your ass with a loud smack. “Oh, baby, your hole tightened just now.” He moaned, groping your blushing buttocks. You went white with embarrassment - this was too much for you. “I should make your ass bright red - it’s not like you don’t deserve it.”

You shook your head frantically, to which he simply grinned, amused by your fear. “Say you love me.” The vampire demanded out of the blue, voice lowering sinisterly. You opened your mouth, but the lack of air and his fingers gripping your chin made it hard to speak clearly - but the man wasn’t too concerned about your struggles. He hit you again, this time using more force. “When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it, slut.” The perverse slap of skin on skin pierced through the silence, sending you into a rabid frenzy.

“Eh wuv yh.” You mumbled in short breaths, the only thing on your mind being survival. “I can’t fucking hear you, sweetheart.” Bane jeered mockingly, enjoying the way you debased yourself to please him. After he got enough of your muffled whimpers, he finally let you breathe. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Bane.” You cried out like a broken record, fully submitting to his wicked torment. You felt his fist wrap around your locks and prepared to feel the pain - but instead he gently caressed you. 

“Good girl. Such a doll for me. I am so proud of you, princess.” He kissed your sweaty forehead, wiping off your tears. “Now be a darling and stay still while I fill you up, okay?”

[dhampling]

sunburn dadstarion, <1k

She runs in with cheeks flushed, head wet with a thin clad layer of sweat. Remnants from some form of cool treat dry on her chin. Plaits - neat this morning - loose now with tangles and damp as she beelines straight for his workroom. 

Face scalding as she buries it in his abdomen. 

“You’re getting muck on my shirt, little one.”

She mimics his words with a cutting tone as she burrows deeper, wraps even tighter around him. Smells like cloves and hot paving and the dry-sweet musk of city dust. As he presses a kiss to her head he feels the sun lingering in her hair. Little white cowlicks brushing his nose.

If he stills he can hear you out on one of the cast-iron chairs with a glass of red in hand, talking to a friend of some parental variety in the early evening heat. 

“You’re so cold” 

His heat comes from woodsmoke and yours from the sun. Both familiar to her. He could light a fire but you’d moan at him for it.

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

He pokes at her clammy arms with a fat laugh and she winces away, pulling a face.

“It’s hot.” She sneers. He quirks a brow.

“Sounds like a you problem.’

He lifts the last of her plaits and looks round at the ruddy blush beginning to bloom at the nape of her neck. She squirms at the ice of his fingers.

‘Run up to the washroom and get the cream. Quick.” 

You sit just beyond the window - he can hear your laughter, the muffled lilt of your voice by the climbing ivy. He imagines the ornate carafe - left to aerate all afternoon - rich and ripe as the wine within soaks on your tongue and darkens your teeth. Your loving grin. The little wave you’d do; the light clothes he’d spent all winter designing for you to sit out front and feel comfortable in, in spite of the sweltering sun. 

To throw a casual look through open shutters and see you out there again. A wink. A little sign that he’s thinking of you. 

Maybe he’ll head out, when the stars are newly minted yet the sun still lingers. Feel the iron sear his skin through his clothes. The warmth of your palm as it wraps around his forearm. 

It’s not until the youngling returns that his gaze shifts from the dark to her, a tired furrow on her brow. 

“I’m too hot.”

Her mouth hangs open in a wide pant. Astarion kneels before her.

“Have you had any water?’

No.

‘Right then.”

-

Hours pass and you shuffle back in with a thick-knotted shawl draped lazy over your shoulders, the singe of a giggle still whisper-light in your breath as your friend shouts their farewells.

“She burned today, you know.” 

He’s quiet as he stitches, merely an observation; thread between teeth. You sigh fondly in the doorway.

“She’s a child. It’s what children do.”

You bring your warm chalice to his mouth and he lifts his head to take a sip, humming softly. He looks up at you with a raised brow. 

“Get burned?”

“You morose bastard. Sun-burn. Children get sunburned.”

She’s lounging on his worn chaise, hair wrapped in towel, with a small bowl of plums at her side and a drawing pad atop her knee. Contented in new pyjamas and the cool dim of her father’s workroom.

The cream has seemingly worked. The cool bath you heard her splash about in not so long ago must’ve been some clever placebo work.

“Found some pretty beetles today, but wasn’t allowed to bring them in.” She speaks as usual with Astarion’s theatrical whine, riddled with fatigue. You roll your eyes affectionately.

“What were they like, darling?”

He’s preoccupied, stitching something small in the gilded embroidery he works at; but there’s the persistent glimmer of interest in his tone. The slightest tilt of his head as his eyes find her in the periphery.

“Really pretty. Different colours. All pinky and greeny.” She waggles her fingers and sighs with a start.

“Draw them for me?”

She looks at him warily as you watch on.

“Will you keep it if I do?”

At that, Astarion stops. A gentle halt. The needle and thread in hand gently tucked into the stitchwork. 

“I keep everything you do.”

You scoff. She looks at him with a tiny glare.

“Where is it then?”

“What?”

“All my drawings?”

“It’s where are they, darling.’ He chides, the smallest chit of his fangs.

You move to sit and your daughter lifts her head from the chaise, so it rests on your settled lap when dropped once more. The hint of a grin plays at his mouth.

‘And I keep them somewhere safe so when you’re old - like me - you’ll be able to look back on you now. You’ll be able to remember the beetles.’

He shuffles over to where you both sit, cross legged as he rests his chin on the chaise. Brings the back of a hand to her forehead and swears a sizzle as he pulls away.

‘Plus. I can’t see these beetles now, can I? My sunburn gets a fair bit more serious than yours in nature. I’d like to see them.” 

She pauses for a moment.

“Okay. But ONLY because you can’t go and see them for yourself.”