#ski jewelry

[feloire]

[bekaterrier]

I started listening to @desertskiespodcast a little while ago, and I cannot put to words how much it makes me feel. The way Mac and Tendy and now Nonny approach their world and the people in it is beautiful (and at times heartbreaking). So here's a piece inspired by their show art:

[black-salt-cage]

Stimboard prompt: Send me a character from our whitelist and I'll make a stimboard based off what I believe their queer identity is (and/or their canonical identity) Character: Princess Zelda (The Legend of Zelda / Hyrule Warriors) Answer: Lesbian ☽ - ✰ - ☾ ☽ - ✰ - ☾ ☽ - ✰ - ☾

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ Question by anon!

[blue-skies-chattanooga]

We are swooning over artist Michael Michaud’s newest designs! 🍂🍁🍇

Each piece has been cast in bronze, silver, or gold from real plants, and adorned with freshwater pearls, semi-precious stones, and handmade glass.

These beautiful botanical creations come with a card about the plant and the artist.

#Chattanooga #MichaelMichaud #Naturejewelry #FallCollection #FallStyle

[prismatic-skies]

Been going through my old external harddrive that was used on my old computer.

I beat the shit outta that computer with the amount of work I threw its way! 😂

Sadly though, almost all of my artwork got fucked or lost.

For the last few MONTHS I’ve been painstakingly fixing so many corrupt files. Some I unfortunately can’t save. At all.

A lot of it is from my teen years from the 1990’s where I was still working on film camera, charcoal, paints, canvases etc., that I ended up converting into digital (at least what was able to be converted). So that means a lot of my original artwork is also GONE.

But if I can’t do it, I’m going to see if my friend may be able to save those files.

I’ve also been coming across a lot of old saved posts/photos/videos from the early days of FB & IG.

And I came across this video I did when I was just getting back into glitch art in like 2010+.

I was also showing off my sweet earrings that my dear friend, Elise - the owner & creator of Hydra Hammer Armory, made me (chainmail battle axes).

She does AMAZING work with metal, including chainmail!!

And the lovely lady is the better half of my homeboy, Tony, who’ve I’ve been friends with for 20+years back when I worked at Earache Records & his band was signed to the label.

So enjoy my weird face.

Check out Elise’s business.

And listen to Municipal Waste.

[alifemadefrommudstudio]

Mom and Daughter duo from Mountains of West Virginia specializing in hand building one of a kind ceramic designs.

Fierce advocates of individuals with developmental disabilities and the Autism spectrum.

We believe in the transformative power of art therapy.

[acuar-io]

Meet The Rogers

backstory about the family below~

The Rogers are a Japanese-Mexican-(American) family made up of 5 sims! Satomi and Ramiro Rogers are a married couple who fell for each other while on the slopes in Mt. Komorebi. Ramiro moved to Mt. Komo with his mother after he got a job as an English teacher there. His father passed away due to illness. His mother retired early and is now currently living with her son’s (Ramiro’s) family. Which is great for her since she loves her grandchildren so much. She does knit and will often sell her works at the local market. She’s a bit of a chismosa so she’ll gossip with the ladies at her knitting club or brag about her grandchildren…maybe even snoop around the house (she’s a nosy sim). Satomi is a jewelry maker! She takes commissions and sells on plopsy. Satomi is very chill, but she has a goofiness to her that anyone will fall for. Something the whole family(well besides Irma and Erika) has bonded over is skiing/snowboarding. They go up there every weekend to get some fresh air& just have fun! Hopefully, Erika will enjoy this family tradition once she’s old enough. She will get to check the slopes out once she’s a little tot tho so that’s exciting!

Also side note:

Satomi is Japanese, Ramiro is Mexican from his mother’s side (she’s Afro-Mexican) and his father was a Black American man!

I’m over my little gp failure moment and am excited to share gameplay with u all, soon!! I just want to take some steps back and set some things first so I don’t feel rushed. Tysm to everyone who gave me ideas for how to manage and have fun playing with a semi big family! I was going thru it bc y game was being a little shit lol but I really want to have a little family go moment so I’m not going to let those things get to me

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍

# with trafalgar law.

the heir to a throne had taken a liking to you — and law takes it upon himself to mark you his.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day eleven. smut (mdni!). hate!sex. choking. possessive!law. biting. marking. mentions of blood. shower!sex. dom!law. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.3k.

one could mention beyond one dozen fear-stricken adjectives when it came to the surgeon of death. sadistic, ruthless, cruel. the one to rearrange your limbs, to tear your beating heart off your chest and sell to whoever paid more. strangers trembled at the mention; lower-ranks marines were advised to not engage. law was but a monstrous criminal to most, a force to be reckoned with. to his crewmates, he lost partial sharpness, for he was but cap — strict, strategical, cunning, with a preference for solitude more often than not ignored by said boisterous subordinates. to you, he was law. a passionate, yet cold, individual — as though white flame. wielder of neutral facade that hid a habit of collecting coins; an excitement over illustrated, super-hero stories. zelous glances; fleeting brushes of fingers. love explicit through palid eyes, the mirror to his soul with your name all but engraved on it.

a commonly chosen adjective, agreed regardless of those who spoke, was that trafalgar law was thoroughly unlucky. which had been shown a fair amount of times through his journey at sea, one of them right in that instance.

it was supposed to be a common, brief, re-stocking period. when considering the increasing bounty on his head, law being the one assigned to stay-at-ship, caring for it rather than venturing through the streets, was understandable — advisable, even. whenever the captain was in need of particulars, he’d write it down and entrust you with the task of buying it all for a fair price. bepo acted as both a companion and an escort, and said routine had been settled for such a prolonged period that neither of you had expected law to leave later on that day. as capable as he was, captains had first-mates for a reason, and as a result of his stubborn nature, law suffered a combined attack from the kingdom’s security force, which culminated in his capture altogether.

the promise of the marines’ arrival had the crew on edge, desperately seeking for a route to the palace’s dungeon, yet finding none. the solution, however, fell from the skies — or rather you had thrown yourself in its arms. a naive prince, wielder of a bleeding heart and with quite a haste to fall in love. it had taken neither effort nor time to sway him off his feet, a golden crown wrapped around your criminal-esque finger. the man had taken you for a sweet commoner, enlightened at the idea of meeting one who was not royal, and after proper wording you had him at your feet within the midday.

you were showered in jewelry; poems; promises. he demanded a song to be written in your honor and defended you to whoever dared meddle. by the end of the afternoon, you had managed to successfully convince him to escort you to the dungeons — oh, my brave knight! —, for you were ever-so-curious to see the terrible surgeon of death, chained and set to execution. the prince had no time to react — too busy bragging — when you knocked both him and the guard off, stealing the keys and freeing your lover within the second.

law was revolted at your recklessness, yet curious as to how you had managed to get an audience in the dungeon. regardless, the flame of rage dimmed down into an endless, dark pit of hatred when the pair of you managed to escape and run towards the polar tang ashore. as it seemed, you were far too successful in your seducing, for now the guards followed-in-suit, shouting at each other and informing that the surgeon of death kidnapped the prince’s bride. to make matters worse, a celebratory festival was arranged and thrown, exploding fireworks announcing the incoming marriage.

law grew quieter; deadlier. he sliced whichever guard dared to come in between the route of your escape, and once the tang, at last, submerged, he was in such a mood that no crewmate had enough courage to approach him, rather focusing on the urgent task of fleeing. you weren’t given the privilege of shying away from his wrath, for a room, followed-in-suit by a shambles, had you locked in his chambers the second thereafter.

he scanned your figure, face contorting in both disgust and non-contained possessiveness. you were adorned in gold from head-to-toe, courtesy of the prince. the silken dress you wore, expensive and brand new. law prided himself in the jumpsuits the others’ wore — chest embroidered with the symbol of his crew, a lingering reminder to the external that their loyalty laid with him. yet, with you — his lover —, said jumpsuit had him growing twice as territorial; twice as prideful. he used to smirk at the thought of lustful men and women alike, cowering at the sight of the symbol you proudly displayed, retreating in fear for they knew you were his. his to protect; to adore; to touch. not the bride of a prince so incompetent he could neither sway a sword nor differentiate west from east. not a queen, but a pirate — his pirate.

at last, however, law had grown envious. the submarine’s temperature was erratic, oftentimes freezing, yet prone to insufferable warmth, depending on the sea’s conditions. those jumpsuits, although unfashionable, unflattering, had a purpose — to guarantee the comfort and safety of his crew. you feigned indifference, but he never once missed your lingering glance at the outfits worn by the straw-hat’s crew during the alliance. you, too, wished for that, and the context of being a heart pirate did not allow it. there you stood, wearing a dress gifted by another man, shining with the jewelry of his family. it made law’s entire being flare with revolt, and as if that hadn’t been enough, the scent of that prince was smeared all over your skin, causing his own to itch. treacherous thoughts a haze of unwanted images, the sight of that man hugging your shoulders; hunched over you; breath fanning over your face.

perhaps that had been the price to pay for his request for discretion; for the desperate — and unnecessary — grip he had on his privacy. your skin was unmarked, untraced. he never dared bite, never thought useful to apply perfume. no wonder that royal blood believed you free for the taking. law would need to fix that.

if he were a decent man, he would have spared the time to appreciate your efforts; to thank you for going through such lengths to save his life. yet law had not an ounce of gratitude to spare, for he cared more for the claim of your life than for the maintenance of his own.

“did you have fun?” he inquired, drawing pleasure from your wariness, shrinking as though a cornered prey. law grimaced at his approach, bitter as the prince’s perfume invaded his nostrils. “was it enjoyable being pampered while i rotted in a cell?”

your eyes widened, lips parted in shock. “of course not! i was worried sick—”

“don’t interrupt me,” law snapped, struggling to control his breathing.

it was unusual for him to behave in such an angered state, logic thrown aside for the sake of raw emotion. he was not an untamed beast of uncontrollable impulses; he was the patient feline who sent his prey to the edge of despair before offering them the sweet reprieve of death. law was not some half-assed hound who pounded without appreciating what had been given; he was not the damned eustass kid. yet, perhaps the bastard had a point — not that law would ever admit that out loud.

law kicked the small trash can straight into your feet, his eyes boring into yours. “throw it away.”

your fingers wrapped themselves around the clasp of the necklace you wore, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, gripping the cleavage of your dress. “this one first.”

you complied, scanning him through worried eyes. law drowned in the sight of silk slipping from your shoulders to the ground, fluid fabric wavering in its descent as though a cascate of liquid, pale fire. law hated it. once he was done with you, he’d set that dress aflame with not a care for the stench whatsoever. you hunched over to grab the silk and throw it in the trash as has been instructed, yet law placed a firm hand on the crown of your head when you began to rise to your feet, forcing your knees to meet the ground.

you looked at him through your eyelashes, and his cock all but throbbed at the sight. “law—”

“why are you still with those jewels on? i told you to take it off,” he interrupted, tethering his glance to your cleavage. the lingerie set had not been altered — lacy, beige — one he had gifted to you. your hand went to the bracelet at your wrist, concentrated eyes glued to the piece. “who told you to stop looking at me?”

you shivered, careful when returning your gaze up to his face. the golden band fell onto the can, the round, diamond encrusted earrings following-in-suit. your fingers struggled with the clasp of the necklace, and law grunted with delight at the sight, aroused by your frustration. the star pendant fell into your cleavage, and had it been gifted by him, law would have commanded you to retrieve it with your teeth. but there mere thought of you doing it so in that instance had him seething.

“hurry up,” he barked, revolted with his own thoughts. you were swift — borderline desperate — in the act, throwing it out with a willingness that had him grunting in approval. “on your feet.”

despite having emerged to your full height, you shrunk under the pressure of his gaze, hugging your frame with uncertainty. law wanted to caress your cheek and spread your arms; scold you for depriving him of the sight of your breasts and abdomen, while comforting you on his desire altogether. yet, the scent lingered as though the remnant of a pest on one’s skin. law refused to give in to the urges to ravage you; to touch you as your gleaming eyes begged him to. but you would not leave without a lesson learned.

law teleported the pair of you to the bathroom, pointing towards the shower. “turn it on and stand underneath it.”

a cascade of water was bestowed upon you, soaking the fabric of your lingerie until it left nothing to the imagination. two minutes were required for it to heat up, yet law had no mercy whatsoever, forcing you to withstand the freezing liquid as he stood steps further, stripping himself without haste. vapor swirled around the room, covering inches of your flesh. your trembling stopped, and though law approached with his body bare, cock slapped against his stomach, you remained with the lingerie, for he hadn’t — and wouldn’t — order you to remove it. that had been his gift to you, and law would fuck you numb in it.

his tattooed hand closed around your neck, not quite squeezing it, yet. your head was angled as in a way to have your eyes glued to his own. “where were you touched?”

“waist,” you mumbled, ashamed. “sometimes he hugged my shoulders, too, but he’d rather have his hand on my waist.”

his pupils dilated, tempers rising. you gasped at the strength of his grip, wasting your reserve of air in a single act. law felt the wild pulse of your pressure point, crescent pace beating against the palm of his hand. underneath bone and flesh and muscle, caged amidst ribs, rested a heart whose surface that prince hadn’t touched, for that inch of you was his. every breath you took, every contraction of your heart, belonged to him. those wide, lust-coated eyes were his, as were the hardened nipples, trembling legs and awaiting lips.

law smashed his mouth against yours, more an act of violence than a kiss itself. his teeth dug into flesh, drawing blood from your lower lip, allowing it to drip down your chin. law hummed to himself at the sight, before he pushed you against the wall, ignoring the echo of your head meeting the ceramic. his canines were dragged on your shoulders, nose buried in. he hummed half-approvingly, for the water had expelled the most prominent aspects of the insufferable perfume — not nearly enough. law bit on every inch of your shoulder, steel grip unmoving on your throat, with not a care for your lack of air in your lungs. if you fell unconscious, the shower and his cock would eventually bring you back.

crystalline water merged with specks of dripping blood, soothing tongue licking your fresh wounds. law pressed himself against you, rolling his hips in order to be granted an ounce of friction. your eyes were rolled, maimed waist bearing the marks of his fingers. the grip on your neck loosened, for you could neither moan nor beg without proper breathing.

the white of his smile was tainted crimson when he smirked at you, digging his nails into your waist. “were you enjoying his attention? the festival had beautiful fireworks, wouldn’t you agree?”

his taunts fell on deaf ears. your eyes were filled with tears that dared not fall, your voice rough. the golden collar wrapped around your throat had been replaced by the mark of his fingers.

“i don’t know,” you croaked out, hissing ever-so-slightly at the wound left on your lower lip. “i was staring at you the whole time.”

his anger faltered ever-so-slightly, cock twitching at the confession. for an instance, the bathroom was filled with nothing but the steady sound of the shower and your shallow breathing. until law pressed his mouth against yours with enough strength to have your head hitting the wall behind yet again, clashing teeth; tongue forcing itself inside. he swallowed your mewl, grunting as his shaft pressed itself against you; rutting hips, dragging the tip around the slick flesh.

“law, please,” you begged, choking on your words. sadistic bastard of considerable strength. he stole the air off your lungs, yet demanded you to speak. words but a meek plea, strained and pathetic. “fuck me, please.”

“who do you belong to?” he demanded, teasing your entrance with his leaking tip.

“you,” he dug his teeth into your shoulders, squeezing your neck. his eyes spoke when words failed him; narrowed slits demanding for more. “i’m yours, yours!”

he grunted, shoving his cock inside. law increased the pressure on your neck, muffled moans sending vibrations through your skin as he slid in — base to the tip; balls slapping your ass. his tip assaulted your g-spot, hardened nipples sliding onto his chest. the angle itself was odd; challenging. your back slipped, and your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, offering him a better angle and chance to support your weight. you let out a strangled, desperate moan when his tip forced itself deeper, a ruthless pace that gave neither of you enough time to form a coherent thought.

law retreated from your shoulder in order to catch a glimpse of your face. water had united some of your eyelashes; your lips were swollen where he bit it; your eyes were facing a losing battle against consciousness. he had never seen a prettier sight.

your legs trembled, muted sounds pointing out to the approach of your bliss. law threw his head back to witness it in its full glory, snapping his hips with particular strength, holding a moan at the sensation of your walls — tightening; caging him. when you came, spurs of white smeared the pool of water underneath, law picked up his pace, torturing your abused cunt as he selfishly seeked out his own bliss.

law was a doctor. he did not fall into the spectrum of irresponsible individuals who thought themselves acquitted to the effects of unprotected sex. he had a fair stash of condoms well-hidden and set for usage, and if he ever were to run out of it, either your stomach, tits or face were chosen to be smeared with his cum. however, after the previous demonstration of desire from another, law grew territorial. his cock was yet sheltered within your walls when he reached his high, smearing your insides with his essence and grunting in the process of it all — knowing that you were his; that it was your tight, demanding cunt who milked him dry. his hand raised from your throat to caress your cheeks with an affection at odds with his past behavior.

you were soaked; exhausted. with his load lodged inside, traces of his teeth on your maimed shoulder. you would be sore in the morning, and the collar of his fingers would linger for at least a week. not the bride of a prince — rather the treasure of a pirate.

— 🐈‍⬛ : i should NOT be allowed to write this man. happy kinktober friday!

[bekaterrier]

Hello friends! Thinking about the upcoming holidays? Looking for a meaningful handmade gift? Just love podcasts? Why not get a handmade podcast-inspired bracelet!

For the next four weeks (until Dec 4th), I'm running a little promo just for y'all: get 10% off with promo code POD10 (or click the link below). I have over 40 podcast-inspired bracelets listed, so come check them out!

[rafesangelita]

hii! can i request a 🍪 with ‘blue jeans’ by lana? ♡ tyy

₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬

pairing: criminal!rafe x spoiled!gf!reader

summary: ❝i told you that no matter what you did, i’d be by your side. ‘cause i’m a ride or die, whether you fail or fly.❞ — rafe gives you a choice to stay or leave when him and barry decide to break into a jewelry store.

warnings: slight humor, barry and reader are both drama queens, rafe being a mediator lol, all three of you commit a robbery, light fluff, making out, heavy petting

word count: 1.0k

a/n: moodboard + headcanon could be found here

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t a good person. he was good for you, and that’s all that mattered. “i’m telling you, bruh! if we hit that place we’re guaranteed at least a million dollars minimum.” you sat on the couch in barry’s trailer, pretending to be interested in whatever was playing on his god awful television. “a million?” rafe repeated. barry nodded. “i already scoped the place out. if we go in thirty minutes after the place closes, we’re golden.” he clapped his hands together.

“and why is that?” rafe leaned back in his chair, turning to steal a glance at you as you sat just a few feet away. “i was chatting up one of the girls behind the counter and she told me the owner’s security system sucks. the shit doesn’t even work,” barry laughed, “the reason i say thirty minutes is because that’s all the time we need to clear that shit out.” it all sounded too good to be true. “when do you wanna do this?” rafe got up, plopping down next to you where he pulled you onto his lap.

“tonight.” you and rafe exchanged a look. “what’s the urgency?” you spoke up, eyes following barry as he squatted down to your level. “you know how the mayor throws that celebration thing for all the law enforcement here? they just so happen to be throwing that event all the way on the other side of the island, which gives us all the opportunity to switch cars and get away with it. they’re basically telling us to go rob that store!” you scoffed at barry’s words.

rafe couldn’t deny it was a great idea. “‘telling us to go rob that store’ is a reach, but it’s not the worst thing you’ve come up with.” you twirled the ends of your hair, resting your head on rafe’s chest. “so what do you think? we got a few more hours until it’s that time.” rafe sighed, looking down at you before stroking your cheek. “you know you don’t have to come with us-” barry rolled his eyes, you two did this every single time.

“y’all are annoying.” he walked away, making the two of you laugh. “seriously though, baby, you know you don’t have to do any of this.” rafe always made sure he spoke softly to you, his tone just dripping with sweetness. “i go because i want to,” you pecked his chin, “there’s no where else i’d rather be.” rafe nodded, eyes full of adoration. you trusted him fully, and rafe didn’t take that lightly. “okay then. what do you say we get that condo you like so much. the one right there on the beach?” you smiled, nodding excitedly.

anytime rafe knew you two were going to hit another jackpot, he would tell you his plans for the money beforehand. “really?!” you sat up. rafe hummed, pressing a kiss to your lips as he walked you two over to where barry sat at the kitchen table. “alright, let’s plan this out.”

-

two and a half hours later, and all three of you were stepping into the stolen car barry got from his guy earlier that day. “you got the ski masks?” barry looked back, his shoulders deflating when he saw you and rafe already had yours on. “pink? seriously, y/n?” you slapped his shoulder, nudging him as rafe cursed under his breath. “what’s wrong with it?” you pouted. “that’s enough,” your boyfriend pointed a finger at his other partner in crime, “you, leave her alone.”

barry snatched the other ski mask from your hands, slipping it on before all of you looked around for any sign of witnesses. “it’s dead as fuck out here, we’re clear.” barry got out of the car first, popping the trunk to get out the duffle bags and crow bars he had in there. you walked up to the clear glass door, pushing it to see if it would budge. before you could back away, barry swung the metal bar, shattering the glass instantly. you screamed, rafe coming up to shove him.

“what the fuck, asshole?! you couldn’t tell her to move out of the way first?” rafe pulled you to his side, barry’s shirt balled up in his fist. “we don’t have time for this shit, bruh, just get a fuckin’ bag and fill it up.” rafe dragged you inside, both of you breaking the display cases. your eyes glimmered with the reflections of diamonds inside of them, your mouth parting slightly at the beauty of it all. “come on, baby, ‘promise you’ll be able to look at everything when we get home.”

you snapped out of your trance, grabbing everything you could. “what time we got?” rafe shouted, barry already clearing the first half of the store. “five minutes, let’s go!” you almost slipped on the broken glass, rafe catching you just in time with a wink. within five more minutes, all of you stood in the middle of the room, all display cases empty. “fuck, yeah. let’s get out of here.” you cheered, throwing your arms around rafe as he and barry got you in the car.

barry sped out of there, not one siren or flashing light in sight. “no fucking way we just slipped out like that!” rafe shouted, hitting the back of barry’s seat as he took his mask off. he always looked so hot when he took it off. his skin flushed, that adrenaline rush so evident on his face as he smiled from ear to ear. you did the same, immediately unzipping the large bag that sat on your lap. “oh, rafe! look at this!” you put a diamond ring on your finger, admiring it under the passing street lights.

you made everything look good, your boyfriend pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “pocket that one.” he whispered, a giggle leaving your lips as you straddled him in the backseat. barry glanced at the two of you through the rear view mirror. like always, rafe’s hands were roaming your body as if he was alone with you. “can you at least wait until i’m not in the same vicinity before you rip her clothes off?” you giggled, rafe waving him off. “chill out bro, you wanna join?” you slapped rafe’s chest playfully, hiding your face in his neck.

barry shook his head, his cheeks turning red as the sound of you and rafe’s lips echoed behind him.

[written-in-flowers]

His Kitten: Demon!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubus!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader | side pairings: demon!yeosang x reader, demon!jongho x reader

Word Count: 9k

Genre: smut, angst, slight fluffiness MINORS DNI

Tags: Enslavement, master/slave dynamic, enemies to fuck buddies, hate sex (w/ yeosang), degradation (w/yeosang), sloppy oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), rough oral sex, squirting, fingering, handjobs, masturbating, couch sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism (w/Jongho), use of petnames (kitten, love, slut), praise kink, swallowing cum, dirty talk, slight edging, mild overstimulation, sloppy seconds in a way,

Summary: YN reaches the second part of her first day: Master Seonghwa, the sophisticated man who loves music, poetry and science. But, even surrounded by decadence and refinement, Seonghwa can be anything but proper.

Previously on Pretty Pet | > Next

***

Baths used to be your favorite things about the living world. You’d buy expensive bath bubbles, drink champagne and listen to the radio after a long work week. Sitting in the porcelain tub, you rested against the back and let yourself soak in the warm water. The bathtub built into a window frame, you had a perfect view of the sprawling gardens beyond the palace. An expanse of greenery and vibrancy you’d never see anywhere else in Hell. You found it odd, as you sat there and stared out the window. Movies usually depicted Hell as being this dark place with fiery lava lakes and rocky floors and ceilings. Yet, the highest level had all the beauty and magnificence you wouldn’t find in the inner circles. You supposed the smoggy skies, hot weather, and fire are for the tortured to suffer through, not the torturers. 

“Ah, here you are. I figured you’d be cleaning up in here.”

Yeosang’s voice came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t respond. The brothers must truly be wealthy if they have such a grand estate. A bronze fountain of a young woman surrounded by birds and flowers sat in the middle of the garden, the water spouting like crystals from the birds’ mouths. You imagined it looked more beautiful in person. 

“The Masters have already left for work,” Yeosang continued, “But Master Seonghwa would like to have lunch with you when he returns.”

You’d never seen such a luxurious place before. Luxury for you was fast cars, designer clothes and fine jewelry. But this place carried every comfort you could possibly think of. It did not feel like much of a punishment to you. 

“Which means I have to take you to his apartment to acquaint you with the place,” he continued, not noticing your glazed over expression. 

If being a demon’s slave meant you got to enjoy fine luxuries like this, was it really so bad? 

“He also drummed up a schedule for you as well,” you heard him moving around behind you, likely pulling together a ‘Seonghwa approved’ outfit for you. “It isn’t much like Master San’s schedule with the housewife duties, but it is rather demanding. I believe you’ll learn a lot if you listen and pay attention…”

You supposed you should still feel scared and anxious, but you couldn’t be bothered anymore. Years of being in the slums of the inner city, Inferno, destroyed any sort of fear you might’ve once had. Fear and misery turned into close friends of yours, and you learned to tolerate their company. You’d spent most of your living life surviving, and your afterlife was no different. The House of Kisses was a cesse pool of low-life demons, Imps, eager to enjoy "exotic tastes" while humans suffered in a new kind of way. The average succubi cost a dime a dozen, but humans went for much higher prices. Brothel owners loved showcasing their human slaves as special items. This meant you received a lot more patrons than the next average succubi. In the living world, that might’ve been a good thing, but in Inferno, in Hell, it’s not. You’d grown to enjoy the beasts who ravaged you because the alternative was wallowing in self-pity. You don’t like pity parties. 

“...Master Seonghwa loves music…”

In this grand keep, you had all the things you couldn’t get in the brothel. Clean water, fresh air, sunlight and an actual bed became dreams to you in the House of Kisses. Okay, sure, you have to juggle three horny incubi on the regular, and possibly their servants at times, but it was fine. The Masters haven’t treated you in any particularly terrible way; you preferred them over the hulking, wretched brutes in the brothels. You pictured the muscular beasts then, recalling various shades of green, red, and orange with eyes of black or yellow. They looked like demons. Your Masters, and other high-born demons, did not. 

“-You should also be aware that Master Seonghwa expects proper ettitquete and-”

“-How come they resemble humans?”

“Pardon?”

“High borns,” you turned in the bath to face him. “Why don’t they look like other demons? The only similarities they share are horns, claws and teeth. Why is that?”

“Higher forms of demons must imitate humans in order to corrupt and seduce them,” he explained. You noticed he held a pale blue dress made of satin and tulle. “We’re born this way.” 

“Yeah, but they’re in their home? Why keep the disguise?”

“It’s not a disguise,” he drawled, hanging up the dress and grabbing a towel. “It’s how we’re made. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. It’s beyond your realm of intelligence.”

You glared at him, standing when he approached you. “It would be easier if you just said they’re some kind of higher form of demon or whatever.”

“That’s what I said,” he wrapped the towel around you and began drying you off. “You weren’t listening.”

“I was listening,” you argued, “And you said you’re born that way. How? Is it through evolution? Did a demon fuck a human and all of a sudden their offspring came out resembling humans?”

“It happened out of necessity,” he said. “We couldn’t very well lure people from the path of God if we looked like those down below, could we?”

“In the stories they did.”

“Yes, well those are stories.” 

You felt him dry up your thighs and stop at your hips. “Stories have truths to them,” you said, not noticing where he came at level, “And knowing myself, I can imagine there was some lady somewhere who wanted to fuck a demon. Like, not all the people in the whatever-hundred century were prudes. I’m sure my ancestors carried on the way I did before I died.” When you didn’t hear a response, you looked down to see Yeosang staring right at your crotch. “Um, hello? Is there something weird about it?”

“No,” he said, clearing his throat and quickly returning to dry you up. “It’s fine. I’m just surprised by the lack of sores on you. I was sure you’d have one or two from all that fucking you do in the brothels.”

“If I had sores, you would’ve found them when you washed me, duh.”

“They’re hidden sometimes,” he said, drying your back. “You brothel whores like to hide them with makeup or creams to keep yourselves in business. It’s a shame humans can still get sick here in Hell,” he said, though didn’t sound very sad about it. “You end up infecting the rest of us because you can’t keep yourselves clean.”

“It’s demons who give it to us first most of the time.”

“Yes, the disgusting ones you’re used to rolling around with, I’m sure.” 

“Not all of them are like that,” you remarked, needing to at least get one back. 

“Most of them.”

Yeosang put you in the satin and tulle dress, seeing the shades of light blue each time you swished it around. You fixed your hair into a more comfortable style, and Yeosang insisted you add a ribbon to it somewhere. Cute. Innocent. Delicate. That was Seonghwa’s type. You hated the idea of having to be the sickeningly sweet, shy kitten, but you knew you must. 

“Here,” Yeosang handed you another laminated paper, “Seonghwa’s schedule.” 

Seonghwa’s schedule for you differed from San’s. “Where is Seonghwa anyways?”

“The Masters are all at work,” he said. “Master Seonghwa always comes home for his lunch break, preferring to eat comfortably at home than deal with his coworkers. It also gives him time to work on home projects instead of work ones.”

“Home projects? Like crafting?” you snorted envisioning the proper, stern brother making paper mache crafts or knitting. 

“Master Seonghwa is an intelligent man with lots of various interests: the exploration of science and chemistry being one of them. He likes to experiment with different things,” he said. “But now that he has you, I’m sure you’ll be his main focus.” 

You didn’t want to think what sort of ‘experiments’ a demon could have. 

You read the laminated paper he’d given you as he walked you from San’s bedroom to Seonghwa’s room down the hall. At the top, it read that you’d be seeing him on his own on Mondays and Thursdays, while having you with his brothers on Sundays. San’s read something similar, except you had him Wednesdays and Saturdays. Hongjoong, you guess, would be Tuesday and Friday. You felt like you were in school again: going from class to class on separate days, getting the times and periods confused. Seonghwa’s idea of a proper schedule included language, writing, reading, and musical subjects, rather than chores.

“6am: wake up for morning routine. 7am: wake up Master. 8am: breakfast with Master. 9am: Cello lesson,” you read out loud. “10am: Piano lesson. 11:10am to 12:15pm: Singing lessons- I don’t need singing lessons,” you let out a soft laugh.

“Master Seonghwa enjoys music,” he said, “And he said he wants his pet to know how to play instruments and sing beautifully. He is our master, so we must give him whatever he wants. If he wants his caged bird to sing, you’re going to sing.”

“I sing when I want to.”

“Not anymore. You lost that freedom when you decided a life of excess at the expense of others was more important than being a good person.”

“Good is subjective to me.”

“Psh, it would be.”

“Well, alright Mr. Snotty Pants, who is my teacher then?”

“Me,” he said.

“Why you?”

“Because I’m more qualified for it than anyone else, and I am your handler,” he said. “Yunho is too busy, and Jongho is too soft. I’ll be stricter, which Master Seonghwa wanted.” 

“Then why doesn’t he just teach me himself if he thinks I need a strict teacher?”

“Because he’s a busy man, and he doesn’t have all the time in the world like some of us around here.”

You knew a dig at you when you saw it. You went back to your schedule as he opened the door with a key. “1pm to 2:30pm, lunch with Master. 3pm to 4pm: World Literature. 4:24pm to 5pm: History and Geography of Inferno. 5pm: Master returns home. 6pm: dinner with Master, 7pm: bath and bed routine. 8pm: bedtime. When would I have time to go to the next Master’s room? San wants me to wake up at 6am. I’d be leaving Seonghwa before he’s even woken up.”

“Your time with Seonghwa would be finished, honestly. As I said, he’s a busy man,” he rolled his eyes, “I’d be the one waking you up. The Masters like to keep a strict schedule, and giving you a proper routine keeps your mind occupied. We need to preserve the few brain cells left to you. Here we are. Seonghwa’s apartments.”

While San stuck to a retro style, Seonghwa took a more refined approach. White walls with intricate gold borders that led up into murals on the ceiling, everything looked very ornamental and expensive. The high ceilings gave space for the large chandelier that gave warmth to the room at night, and brightness to the angelic scenery painted into the different panels. It reminded you of Versailles in France with its finery and excess of wealth. You spotted a white piano in the corner by the window, where Seonghwa expected you to play for him while he lounged back on the seats nearby. You played piano as a child, but you’d fallen out of it in your teen years.

 Yeosang took you through the main sitting room, and into a private parlor where you’d sit with Seonghwa after he came home from work. Like San, he’d left a list of drinks he liked and how to make them. That was one problem you wouldn’t have. You knew alcoholic drinks like you knew your colors and fabrics.

“Here is the library,” Yeosang said, bringing you into a large room lined with bookshelves, “You’ll be having most of your lessons in here. Music lessons will be in the music room-”

“-It is the music room, so one would assume that already-”

“Just making sure. Some of your humans can’t even write a proper sentence, let alone put two and two together,” he continued walking ahead of you. "Master Seonghwa likes to spend his leisure time in these rooms, so do your best to actually pay attention in your lessons. Your position in this household would be pointless if you can’t please your masters in and out of the bedroom.”

“I’ve become pretty aware of that, yeah.” You scanned one of the shelves, reading titles of books you’d heard of but never read before. “He’s the bookish brother, then?”

“Yes, he is. Master Seonghwa is a man of culture and refinement. He likes things to be neat and clean. He likes his sluts to have some sort of brain he can pick at or divulge in an intelligent conversation with. It’s why he picked you, a brainless slum slut, to be his slave. He can rebuild your brain into what he wants. Kind of like a mechanic getting a basic car and designing it to their liking.”

“I’m not ‘brainless’.”

“Ha, cute,” he snorted. “I’d hate to see what happened if you failed to be even partly more interesting than you are right now.”

Or he’d secretly enjoy it. Yeosang finished giving you the tour and brought you back into the main room. “Obviously, you aren’t going to have your lessons today since it’s already too late for some of them, so you’re free to roam around until Master Seonghwa arrives. Try not to break anything. Everything here costs more than you do.”

With that, Yeosang left you standing in the sitting room. You thought you’d met snotty people before, but Yeosang took the cake. Putting his snide remarks aside, you walked over to the piano. You hated to tell Seonghwa that he was wasting his time with the music lessons. You sat at the bench, putting your fingers over the ivory keys, and began playing a tune that came to you so easily.

“I come home in the morning light, my mother says when you gonna live your life right? Oh Mama dear, we’re not the fortunate ones, and girls, they wanna have fun…oh girls just wanna have fun…”

You remembered listening to the song when it first came out. It became your personal anthem. You played it during road trips with your friends. You danced to it in your bedroom and whenever it came on at clubs. Eventually, you learned how to play it on the piano. Music was one of the few freedoms you’re allowed to still have. Brothel owners loved inviting musicians to entertain the customers, and you could sit and listen to them in between clients. You might not sing well, but you didn’t sound terrible, people said. 

You’d finished the song, feeling upbeat and free, when a voice cut it off like a knife. 

“You said you couldn’t sing.”

Snapping your head up, fear bounced up into your throat to squash all your joy. Seonghwa stood a few feet from you, leaning against the back of a chair near the window. The bright sunlight illuminated one side of his face, casting the other half in shadow. He didn’t seem too upset, more surprised than anything else. 

“I can’t,” you said, your palms sweating, “I don’t sing well, which is what I assumed you all wanted to know.”

“And you never mentioned being about to play the piano either.”

“You didn’t ask,” you replied. If he wanted to know, he should’ve looked for that when he poked around in your head. 

He huffed a laugh, then came over to the piano bench. “What other songs do you know?”

“Not the ones you’d want me to play.”

“Such as?”

“Those boring compositions the nerdy kids played at recitals and talent shows,” you rolled your eyes. “You know, Chopin, Beethoven, and Mozart. The classic dudes.”

“I do like the classics,” he admitted, “But I found the music humans listen to equally enjoyable. Hongjoong likes it more than me, so he’ll love this, but I like it too.”

“They don’t play our music here.”

“I know. I mean when I went above ground.”

“You went to the living world?”

“My brothers and I go up there and cause mischief sometimes,” he said with a sneer. “Just when I think humans can not get any worse, they manage to prove me wrong. I was probably there when you overdosed, if anything.”

“Trust me,” you shook your head, “If I’d seen you there, I wouldn’t have bothered with the coke at all.”

“So, you’re saying you would’ve taken me home with you?” he said, facing you and sliding a hand on your lap. 

“You’re beautiful. Of course.”

“Makes being my slave a lot more appealing, doesn’t it?”

“It does. If you hadn’t taken me in, I’d be back in the circle whirling around in that big cyclone.” The thought of it sweeped its way back to you.

“What is it like there? I've never been there myself.”

“Tormenting. I felt so many sensations and feelings all at once forever without a break. It’s that feeling of thinking it’ll stop eventually, but then it never does. It keeps going and going,” you traced one of the black keys, not even registering Seonghwa’s hand as you envisioned your original punishment. “When they pulled me out of that storm, I thought I’d been saved and would be waking up any moment. But, that didn’t happen. I was thrown from one prison into another.”

“You deserved it.”

“I did,” you nodded. “I know that now. My company-my scam-It hurt so many people. I sold people penny stocks at high prices, and raked in the money when those stocks turned out to bring them only dimes. That man you mentioned? His name was Randal Singer. He was an assistant manager at a Rite Aid. I tricked him into thinking investing would help his finances.” You gulped, tapping a key to distract yourself. You played the first notes of TOTO’s ‘Africa’ idly, not really following the flow exactly. “His wife was pregnant; they’d just gotten married and wanted to save up for a home. I told him investing in stocks would get him there faster.” 

“Not to mention all the men you fucked to get yourself in that position,” he said, “Though, I will commend you on one thing: you blasted that glass ceiling. Before you, women could only be secretaries in that office. You started there, and worked up to leaving and owning your own investment company.”

“I fucked my way to the top,” you said, recalling Hongjoong’s words from earlier that morning. “I didn’t care if my lovers had spouses or partners. I saw what they could get me, and I took it. I don’t know how I ended up in lust, when I should’ve gone to greed.”

“They go hand-in-hand in my opinion,” he shrugged. “People who live like that have a bit of both. Look at Yunho: he is a demon of greed, but he indulges in lustful acts greedily. He has an orgasm, and then wants even more. He watched you fuck one of us, but then wants to watch you do it again.”

“I suppose,” you shrugged. “I still don’t know how some things work here.”

“If you don’t know,” he said, “The answer is usually ‘magic’.” 

“Master?” Yunho appeared in the dining room doorway, purposefully avoiding eye contact with you, “Lunch is ready.”

“Perfect. I’m famished.” 

You walked with Seonghwa into the decadent, intimate dining room. On plates of fine china with gold utensils, servants in white and gold uniforms served the first course: a green salad with a raspberry vinaigrette. You sensed a three course meal coming on, and didn’t eat the entire salad. 

“How was your morning with San?” he asked, washing some salad down with white wine. 

“It was…fine.”

“Just fine? From what he said, you left a few stains in his newly pressed pants.” 

“It was incredible,” you said, “What else do you want me to say?”

“That you hated it and you thought about me the whole time,” he smirked before chewing on more salad. 

You actually laughed, “Fine, Master. I hated every single second and wished it was you.”

“As you should.” He then asked, “Yeosang told you about your schedule, yes?”

“Yes.”

“What did you think of it?”

“Reminds me of college.”

“Did you even go to college?”

“For a bit.” 

The servants took your salads away, and brought the main course: a rice bowl topped with black beans, cherry tomatoes, cilantro and peppers. The servant who placed down yours added a dollop of sour cream to the top. It reminded you of the fancy dinners you went out to on weekends. Drinking expensive wine and eating food you couldn’t pronounce sounded so nice at the time. 

“What did you study?” He asked curiously. 

“Business. I hated it, so I dropped out my first year.”

“Why did you hate it?”

You thought about it a moment, picking at your bowl and eating it quietly. “It made me feel stupid.”

“What do you mean?”

“I grew up thinking I was smart, because I did pretty okay in school. I got into college, and I'm around people who really are smart and I realized how dumb I actually am.”

“You're not dumb.”

“I am,” you huffed out a laugh. “I really am.”

“Kitten, you owned an investment firm where you cleverly scammed innocent people for their money. Someone with no brains wouldn't be able to pull that off, and besides,” he scooped up more of his rice, “Brains aren't everything. You're beautiful, Kitten, and that pretty privilege got you in a lot of doors. You also have brawn.”

“Brawn?”

“Not in the physical way, but the emotional way,” he said. “You're gutsy. You take risks. You saw something you wanted, something that could get you somewhere and you went for it. Do you know how crazy and desperate you have to be to willingly give yourself over to slavers? You didn’t know what you'd be getting into and it completely backfired. But still, you saw that you might get a better deal somewhere else, and took it. I find that quite admirable, and my brothers feel the same.”

Not many people applauded your “talents” before. They spent too much time on how terrible you'd been in your previous life. You smiled to yourself and began eating your lunch. Dessert was a regular chocolate parfait with chocolate chips and creamy mousse. It tasted better than anything you'd ever eaten in the inner circles. 

“I have some time left in my lunch break,” he said, pushing out his chair when lunch ended. “Sit with me for a while.”

You both went back to the sitting room with the piano, taking seats on the couch. 

“Even in Hell there are office jobs, huh?” you asked with amusement. You curled up to him as he’d want you to, and put your arms around his as if clinging to him. Men like Seonghwa like the extra attention. You knew many businessmen who enjoyed the special attention of a beautiful woman.

“In a way,” he said, arm draped over your shoulder. “I’m a Burrower.”

“A ‘Burrower’? What is that?”

“What you saw me do at breakfast,” he said, “It’s sort of like being a judgment of souls. I see into a person’s mind, and dig out all the terrible things they’ve done. That way, I can put in a suggestion of where they go. It’s not up to me in the end, but what I report back is taken into consideration.”

“A big job then?”

“Very big and very important.”

“I didn’t know I belonged to such a high-ranking person,” you said, giving him a small smile. 

“You do,” he nuzzled your nose softly. “It makes you sort of special. I’m sure it’s nothing you won’t be used to in the long run. You liked the special treatment when you were alive; I think you’ll like it more when you’re here too.”

“I’m never opposed to special treatment,” you replied with a mischievous smile. “What about your brothers?”

“San works in the fighting arena as a Champion,” he answered. “If someone wishes to escape Inferno and go to Purgatory to begin their repentance, they have to go through San first.”

“I’m assuming through a fight?”

“Yes, through a fight to the death. The first one to get cut three times loses.”

“Does anyone ever win?”

“Hardly ever,” he said. “San says they have to really want to repent for their sins. They have to want to be saved, not just to escape their punishments. The ones who really want it have a higher chance than someone wanting to get out.”

“Hongjoong works there too?”

“Hongjoong?” he scoffed, “Never. He’s too bloodthirsty for the arena. No, Hongjoong works in the lowest circle as a Scourge.”

“A Scourge?” 

“He tortures the worst of the worst. Think of dictators, mass murderers, child killers, and all those types. Hongjoong’s job, if they’re sent to the lowest circles, is to torture them until they mentally break,” he explained. 

“What is the point in breaking them? They’re already in Hell.”

“Makes their time here more miserable. They inflicted misery onto others in their lifetimes, now it will be done back to them,” he shrugged. “It only makes sense.” 

“I suppose.” 

Lounging back on the sitting room couch, it felt like you weren't in Hell at all. You might be on vacation in the French countryside with a lover or friends. The brothers clearly modeled their home after the palaces and decadence of 18th century France. You wondered why that was. 

“It's my favorite time period and place.”

You wished he'd keep out of your head for at least a few minutes. 

“But, you're not-”

“-French? I know, but I grew up there. When I inherited this place, it was old and dreary. Demon architecture is heavy on the gothic styles of the 12th to 16th centuries with the high towers, extended buttresses and asymmetry. It's so dark, and depressing to me. I like sunlight and splendor, which the baroque and rococo styles have,” he stared up at the murals on the ceiling, “It's so refined and sophisticated. It reminds me of home.”

“I'll take your word for it.”

“You'll learn about it soon enough,” he said. “Yeosang and I will make sure you can actually hold an intelligent conversation.” He took a strand of your hair to play with, “You can have that with me, you know.”

“Get out of my head.”

“I’m your master, woman,” he said a bit sternly. “I can be in your head in as many ways as I like.” When you grew quiet, he continued, “As I said, you can have all of that with me. I am a man-”

“-A demon-” you corrected.

“-A demon who likes the finer things in life. Hell has so few luxuries for those condemned to suffer here, but it has plenty for those who live here,” he moved closer to you, sliding himself across the couch until your thighs touched. “Being my kitten gets you a lot of nice things, if you’re good.”

“And bad ones if I’m naughty?”

“That’s typically how these things work.” His hand found your knee, and slowly went upwards. “You get good things if you're good, and bad things if you're bad.”

“What would you consider “bad”, Master?” You decided to match his energy and reach over to cup his groin. Seonghwa did not object but instead inhaled a sharp breath. “Me coming onto you? Me wanting to taste you like I did last night? I only want to be your good kitten, Master.” Your fingers traced the seam of his crotch, feeling his cock underneath the smooth fabric. “What would get me punished?” 

“You being inappropriate in public,” he lifted your dress, his arousal growing against your hand, “Swearing. Cursing. Not going to your lessons. Not listening to your instructors. Lying to me. Let other people aside from my brothers touch you without permission.” His floral pheromone seeped out of his pores and onto you instead. You found yourself drawing closer and closer to him; you moved your thighs apart to let him touch further. “Why? Do you plan on breaking each one?”

“What would my punishment be if I did? A hard spanking? A whipping?”

“If I tell you, then you'll be prepared,” he softly circled your clit area while you gradually pumped his cock from outside his pants. “I don't want you to know.” He cleared his throat in a cough when your thumb rolled over his clothed tip. “On your knees, Kitten. I think you deserve a special treat today.”

You slipped down onto the floor below him, and ran your hands up Seonghwa’s thighs. He let out a deep breath as you massaged his inner thighs and kissed along his bulge. You could almost smell him through the layers of cloth. Excitement bubbled in your stomach, trickling down into your panties once again. You’re sure part of your need came from his enchanting scents, but you’d loved it too. Hearing his low grunts and praises as you sucked him off turned you on more than anything. The anticipation alone might kill you if you don't have him soon. Hands traveling up his inner thighs to where his balls sat, you rolled your thumbs over them as you kissed up to his belt buckle. Seonghwa scooped up your hair, and simply followed your motions until he unbuckled himself for you. You licked your lips, saliva building up at the mere outline of him inches from your mouth. When he withdrew himself, you immediately went for it but he pulled you back by the hair. 

“Wait,” he ordered gently, “Good girls wait.”

Seonghwa started stroking himself in front of you. You took in the long fingers slowly rubbing up and down; his thumb running over the veins coursing blood to make him harder, and pressing his forefingers on the other side of the head. You thought about that thick tip deep in your throat, cutting off your air and making you drool around him. The salty taste of his cum hadn’t been off-putting at all. It made you want more. You could nearly taste it on your tongue already as his erection grew in his hand. 

“Spit on it for me, Kitten,” he said in his gentle voice. His mouth fell open when he saw you drool over his tip, centimeters away from licking the hole you'd spat on. “Good girl,” he praised, using your spit to lube himself up. 

“Master, can I have it now, please?” You pouted, knowing exactly what kind of woman he wanted. 

He tightened his grip on your hair and said, “Patience, sweetheart. Have patience.”

“But, it looks so good,” you said.

“I know it does,” he gave a particularly long stroke, covering even his tip before sliding back down. “But, you want it extra hard when you suck on it, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you wait, baby.”

“Can I at least play with these?” You rubbed over his balls again, which made him jolt lightly. “Please?”

“May I or Can I?”

“May I, Master?” You corrected yourself.

“You may, Kitten.”

He groaned as you continued. Seonghwa let out streams of breathy moans as you rubbed up and around them. Hard stones that moved wherever your palm pushed them, you imagined each touch added fire to the kindling inside him. You never wanted to suck someone so badly before. Looking up at him from the floor, you could see his lean body underneath the neat, white shirt. His abs tensed whenever you gently tugged on his sack, and his arm flexed from the tension he brought on himself. His low, deep groans had you throbbing for his attention. You considered humping him as you'd done to San, but he caught this at once. 

“Don't,” Seonghwa ordered, yanking your head back to look at him, “You stay put. I won't have you humping me like some pathetic dog.” He spread streams of precum over himself, wiping it on his fingers to stick in your mouth. “You're my kitten, not my puppy.”

“But, Master-” you spoke with his fingers settling on your tongue. Your pussy throbbed from the digits spreading him around. 

“-’But’ nothing, Kitten. You'll get your attention when you get it,” he said, intently watching your lips around his fore and index fingers. “Stick out your tongue.”

Seonghwa dragged his wet tip along your outstretched tongue. Taste buds absorbing the salty strings melted right away. It had your thighs shaking. Your hips started rocking back and forth, wanting him to touch and finger you the way you desperately needed. You swatted your tongue against the underside, and he smacked his shaft to your cheek. 

“I said stick it out, not to lick.”

“I'm sorry, Master. It just tastes so good,” you said, batting your lashes innocently. “I love sucking it.”  

“I know, Kitten,” he said, going back to rubbing himself on your tongue and lips. “I remember how eagerly you swallowed my loads last night. If you're good, I'll give you as much as you want.”

“Really?” You asked, voice distorted by your outstretched tongue. 

“Yes, really,” he chuckled, pushing himself further up your tongue and into your mouth. “I love spoiling my kittens.” He shuddered once he swirled the head around your tongue. “Give it a lick now, sweetheart. Just licking.”

You continued groping his balls while you began licking up and down his dick. Seonghwa leaned back in his seat, watching your tongue draw swirls along the sensitive vein running through it. Reaching the top, you felt tempted to suck up the clear drops leaking out, but instead you lapped at them. Seonghwa hissed through his teeth when your eyes met. He chuckled and shook his head when you spat it out onto his cock again. The laughter died out when you proceeded to continue interchanging spitting and licking him. Permitting you to use your hands, Seonghwa knew it was over once both your hands wrapped around his cock. Kitten licking his tip, you used your hands to massage the rest. 

“Put it in your mouth,” he moaned, head rolling back as you did as told. “Take it all the way to the back. I'm going to cum down your pretty throat.”

Sinking him fully to the back of your throat brought on a satisfaction that had you whimpering around him. His head forcing you to keep him there, Seonghwa's stream of low curses and desperate whines made you wetter. Tears burned your eyes, and you struggled to breathe through your nose as he blocked your airway. You clung to his thighs, fingers clutching his pants as you struggled to breathe. A few pumps in and out of your mouth caused gurgling and gagging sounds that Seonghwa loved enough to keep doing it. More drool trailed down from your mouth to your chin, dirtying your dress and his nice pants. Seonghwa collected this when he pulled out, and made you suck it off him. Your burning sex tightened for something to grab onto, but you were given nothing. Instead, you had your throat penetrated again. 

“Make me…make me cum,” Seonghwa said after a while, guiding your head up and down him freely now. “Your master wants to cum now.”

He gave you free reign at last. You moved your mouth and hands in tandem as you milked his orgasm out of him. It started in shuddering breaths and tensing thighs, before rolling to a tight abdomen and fingers gripping the seat. Hot streaks of cum splattered in your mouth and you swallowed the thick goodness right away. His orgasm fully taking over, Seonghwa released his moans into the air and continued bucking his hips into your face. In the last few waves, he forced your nose right up to his pelvis and spilled directly into your throat. Seonghwa gave you a minute to swallow what he left behind, and get a few deep breaths in before he spoke. 

“Show me,” he said. 

You parted your lips to show your empty mouth.

“Very good,” he grinned. 

Then he kissed you, sloppy mouth and all. Seonghwa cupped your jaw and lifted it enough for him to deepen your kiss. Your pussy still ached for his touch; panties so soaked from your wetness that it stuck to your folds and thinned the cotton material. 

“It's my turn now,” he said between kisses, “Let me see how wet you've gotten.”

You laid down longways with your back to the armrest and legs spread. Seonghwa groaned softly when he lifted your dress to see your wet panties. He bent down, hands on your thighs as he lapped on the darkening spot. The constant brushes made you tense up and grip the couch cushions under you. He pushed both sides of your underwear into the middle, separating your lips from your hard clit, and you thought you might cum right there. Singling out your clit through your panties, Seonghwa’s direct licks sent tremors throughout your thighs and legs. He held onto them, keeping them locked in his arms as he continued the torture. 

“I almost don’t even need to take these off,” he jested, giving long flat licks to the outer folds. “It’s like you’re not even wearing panties.”

“Because you make me so wet, Master,” you breathed a whimper. Looking down, you saw dark hair curtaining his face between your thighs. He made sure you could see his long tongue slowly tasting you. “So much wetter than either of my other masters do.”

This earned you a few rapid, swirling touches that arched your back. “Is that right?” he said, suspicious of the obvious lie. “I find that hard to believe,” he slipped his thumb past the panty line to your clenching entrance, “My brothers are quite good at making dirty sluts wet.”

“But you do it the best.”

This ego-stroking had him pulling your underwear aside and snaking two fingers inside. Sucking up the mess he’d made, Seonghwa’s fingers pushed in and out with ease. Your eyes fell shut as you savored the tightness building deep in your core. Each time his fingers curled and wiggled inwards, you pictured them against your g-spot right then. Full lips wrapped around your clit, he swirled his tongue up and over it in time with his fingers. 

“Master, Master,” you panted, “I’m going to cum. I’m going to-”

“-Hold it for me, Kitten,” he ordered between kisses to your sex, “I haven’t fucked you yet.” He moved his fingers faster, “I’m enjoying fingering and licking you too much to stop now.”

He placed kisses up your inner thighs as his thumb and fingers worked you easily. From years of training, you learned how to withhold your orgasm for a prolonged time. Taking deep breaths, you tried holding your climax as Seonghwa continued fingering you. But, even this became difficult after a while. He withdrew his fingers and spread your juices around your clit while he replaced them with his tongue. Lifting your legs up to your chest, Seonghwa hovered over your lower half to stick his tongue deep inside. You swore he’d somehow made it longer just to tickle your sensitive center. His low moans caused a vibrating sensation that reached your clit and had you tearing up from the desperation. 

“Master, please…”

“To cum,” you cried out when he easily slipped his tongue back into your heat. “Please. Please, please…”

“Hm?” he pulled out his tongue, “What is it, Kitten? What do you need?”

“You sound so cute when you beg,” he said, giving his tongue a break to use his fingers. “I’d love to watch Hongjoong make you beg. He’s far crueler than I am,” he smiled at the idea, rapidly rubbing your clit and sticking his fingers back inside. “Keep begging.”

You wept as you kept on begging. Your orgasm threatened to rise up each time he went particularly deep. Tears fell down the corners of your eyes and down your temples as the pressure strengthened. Somehow this demon broke right through your willpower, and had you clawing his expensive furniture. Seonghwa brought you into his lap, and you thought he’d use his cock next, but he didn’t. Instead, he put your back to his chest and kept your legs apart with his knees. Arms around your waist, he continued fingering you as before. 

“Such a cute kitten,” he cooed in your ear, pinching your nipple through your thin dress. “Crying and shaking in my arms like this.” He licked a tear that broke through your lash line, “You want to cum so badly, but you want to be a good girl and hold onto it for me.” 

It dawned on you that something hard rested between your ass cheeks. Something thick and hardening underneath you. Yes, yes, you wanted that there.

“Not today, love,” he said, almost disappointed. “I have work to do soon.” You whined miserably, and he laughed. “Don’t despair, pet. I’ll let you cum this time. Go on and cum for me.”

Seonghwa pulled out right at the last second, rubbing your clit, as small spurts of clear fluid came out onto the floor. Not too long or too thick, but enough that Seonghwa saw them on the polished floors. Your body seized up in his embrace, quaking thighs and nails digging through his pants. He let out a surprised gasp as you came down. Shaking and taking deep breaths, you rested back against him to enjoy the last bits of pleasure before he pulled away completely. 

“I had no idea you could do that,” he said in a smile. “How delightful. I know someone who will enjoy cleaning this up for me…”

You thought he might call on San or Hongjoong. They might have come back early, and are looking for you right now. Except, it wasn’t their names he called. 

“Yeosang! Come here!”

Yeosang seemingly appeared from nowhere, standing upright with his hands behind his back as Yunho had hours earlier. His eyes, already big, widened at the erotic sight in front of him. He visibly gulped as he stared down your body. 

“You called, sir?” he said in a high pitch, which he covered with a cough. 

“Kitten is dirty,” he said, “And I need someone to clean her for me. I’d clean her myself, but I have to go back to work. You understand, I’m sure?”

“I understand completely, sir, but,” he licked his lips, “Surely, you do not wish for me to…She is your pet, not mine. It’s improper for a servant to touch something belonging to his master.” 

Seonghwa smiled at his words, “You’re truly one-of-a-kind, Yeosang. This isn’t the first time you’ve enjoyed leftovers, and I cherish you far too greatly to deny you luxuries from time to time. Don’t be shy. Consider this part of your duties for today, hm?”

Seonghwa motioned for you to slide off his lap and moved your legs apart again. Yeosang would never do it. He made his dislike of you obvious by now, and he thinks you’re a “slum slut”. You expected him to reject his master’s gift, and insist he resume his daily routine. He made a few timid strides towards the couch, but kept his distance. He forced himself to focus on your face instead of your messy thighs. Seonghwa, seeing he needed more convincing, finally removed your underwear and tossed them aside. 

“Don’t act so above humans, Yeosang,” Seonghwa snickered. “I know you have a preference for them. I remember how you licked that one girl clean after we’d all had a turn with her. I never thought you enjoyed pleasures like that until then. Come and clean my slave for me.” 

“If you…insist, Master.”

Yeosang came over and knelt in front of you. His tongue, foreign and new, made soft, timid licks at first. Seonghwa sat beside you, eyes glinting with delight as Yeosang cleaned you with his tongue. You mewled whenever he touched near your clit, the bud becoming sensitive from your recent orgasm. The first few touches remained uncertain and shy until a new gush of your juices broke through. Then Yeosang pulled them apart to thoroughly clean each crevasse. You heard him give a satisfied moan at the taste of you on his tongue. When he finished, he pulled away for you to see the sheen of cum left on his chin and mouth. Seonghwa inspected his work, and you’d admit Yeosang nearly pulled you back into desire. 

“Well done, Yeosang, as expected,” Seonghwa said, standing and zipping himself back up. “Kitten is lucky to have a handler willing to do what he can to keep her tidy and clean.” He gazed down to see a distinct bump in Yeosang’s trousers. This amused him rather than upset him. He turned to you, “Kitten, give your handler a hand, won’t you? It’s the least you could do.” 

Without bothering to stick around, Seonghwa fixed his tie and put on his suit jacket as he left. Yeosang stood up from the ground, pale cheeks tinged a bright pink that went to his ears. He used his handkerchief to wipe his mouth. 

“Do you want me to do it?” you asked, unsure whether he’d take it that far. 

“Master Seonghwa has insisted so…” he took a deep breath, “A quick one just to please him.”

“We don’t really have to.”

“I think you know as well as I do that he’ll know if we have or not,” he said sharply. He sat on the couch beside you and undid his trousers, “Don’t dawdle, YN. I have things to do that are more important.” 

Yeosang did not have the same length or width as his masters. Simply eating you out gave his length a special kind of red around the tip and shaft. You looked up at him, uncertain if he really wanted this or not. Yeosang, unlike some in the house, made it clear he did not like you. 

“What did I just say?” he snapped you from your thoughts with a cold voice. “Get to it, slut. It’s nothing you haven’t already done.” When you did not move, he let out a growl and took your hand. “We don’t have to like one another. There’s nowhere written that we have to share a personal connection to enjoy this. I wasn’t told to pleasure you, but after hearing you last night and licking you clean now…” he seemed reluctant to admit it, swallowing his words before finally saying, “I’m afraid it is all I’ll be thinking about…”

“But you-”

“-Yeosang, are you here? Yunho says we’re to go over-” Jongho’s voice was cut off by a loud gasp. He took in the scene before him, and found it hard to make words. “Yeo…Yeosang, what are you doing? Have you lost your senses completely? The masters will have you whipped for this! Let go of her now before someone sees!”

“Master Seonghwa allowed it,” Yeosang said simply. “She's being difficult. I don't know why. These slum sluts look for any reason to jump on a cock.”

“Don't act like you wouldn't like it,” you spat back at him. Reaching into his lap, you began carefully stroking Yeosang. He gave a shaky breath, arms on the back of the couch. “You've been looking down your nose at me since I got here. You're a slave just like me.” You squeezed the middle hard, and he moaned as his eyes closed. “Why are you so much better?”

“Because I don't give my holes to the highest bidder,” he said through gritted teeth as he watched your hand stroke him. 

“You did that when you ended up in this house,” you said, jerking him faster. Clear precum began leaking From him almost right away. “Look at you, already about to burst for me. What's the matter, Yeosang? Can't hold it back? Do you cum too quickly?”

“Fuck you,” he huffed, “Slut.”

“A slut who's about to make you cum,” you retorted. 

“Since it's all you know how to do. Even right now…You're jerking me off in front of Jongho, because you're so used to it that you don't care who watches,” he grabbed your hand and made you pick up the pace. “We all watched you through Yunho’s peep holes last night. We watched you get run through like a bitch in a kennel. We saw you cum so many times you barely remembered your own name.”

“And I bet you jerked off to me like the penniless perverts who peek into brothel windows,” you said, gripping him tightly. “You're too fucking poor to buy a woman, and that’s if you could find a slave who’d have you in the first place.”

Yeosang grabbed your chin with his other hand, glaring at you as he spoke, “You think I fucking care if they want it or not? They're just a hole.” He pulled your ear to his lips, “You are just a hole. You're a pretty slutty hole for them and anyone else to fuck. You're lucky they wouldn't let me have you.” He pressed his lips right to your ear, “I'd fuck you so hard and for so long you wouldn't be able to sit for weeks.” 

“I doubt it,” you scoffed. “Not with this tiny thing.”

“You better hope they never throw you in the greenhouse,” he said. “The greenhouse whores are fair game. Trust me,” he laughed through teeth, “I'll fuck you-you-you all night if I w-wa-wan’t.”

In a few more pumps, thick white drops shot out in short spurts. Directed at his clean, pressed uniform, it splattered against the black fabric as Yeosang trembled in place. You kept the wave going. You pumped him the same speed, hard and fast, until your arm started burning. When he finished, Yeosang laid back on the couch, sweat beading his brow and chest heaving.  You purposefully wiped your sticky hand on his pant leg, which made him growl.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Yeosang,” you said innocently, “Did you make a mess on your nice, clean uniform?”

“Bitch,” he grunted, using a handkerchief to wipe most of the mess. “Like I said, you're lucky they like you.” He zipped himself up and stood from the couch. “If they didn’t, you’d be a mindless hole in the greenhouse.” 

“Bye Yeosang,” you beamed, “Hope you can get those stains out.”

Yeosang slammed the door behind him, leaving you and Jongho alone. You spotted the slight bump in his pants. The animosity still stayed in your chest as you said, “Did you have fun watching me too?”

“Huh, what?” Jongho asked, flustered and embarrassed. “Oh, um well, if you… it's nothing uncommon here. We all do that. The Masters don't mind, really.”

You giggled at his awkwardness, “Did you like it though?”

“I did,” he nodded. “I don't like it like Yeosang, but yes, I did, um, you know… enjoy watching you.”

You stood from the couch, feeling the stickiness between your thighs again, and smiled at him. “Maybe your masters will let you have a taste someday.”

“Oh, I don't think they would. I haven't worked here as long as the others.��

“You never know,” you said as you walked past him, “You just might get lucky.”

You walked into Seonghwa’s bathroom alone, shedding off your dress as you waited for the warm water. You hadn't seen him until you'd gotten in the water, inhaling the lavender scent rising from the suds. Jongho sat on a chair in the corner of the room, his cock in his hand and jerking hurriedly. You couldn't help laughing. 

“Are you even allowed to watch?” you asked, no longer bothered by it. 

“We can watch,” he said, “Not touch.”

“You're just going to sit there and watch me bathe then?” You sat up more in the tub, making sure the suds just barely covered your chest. Lathering them in soap, Jongho groaned at the sight of you touching yourself.

“If it's…okay.”

“I don't mind,” you rose from the water, soap bubbles still clinging to you. “I'm used to being watched all the time.”

So, you lathered yourself in soap as Jongho masturbated in front of you. You supposed if you'd be living in a palace full of horny perverts, you'd enjoy yourself. The thought of having as much demon cock as you wanted sounded like a dream. Even if your masters decided when and who you'd do it with, you knew with the right words or touches, they'd melt in your mouth. It made you feel like the woman you used to be: an ambitious vixen. You’d missed making men drool over you without having to do much of anything; you enjoyed the teasing. You let out soft sighs whenever you felt over a specific spot or brought attention to certain parts of your body. Jongho looked at nothing but you. It was when you jiggled and spread your ass cheeks did he finally cum. Like Yeosang, he dirtied his black slacks with thid strings of white. You felt tempted to clean them with your mouth, wanting to taste the long dick softening in his hand. But, you knew better. 

“I'm sorry,” he said quickly, wiping himself with a towel. “I really shouldn't have come here-”

“-Will you at least help me dry off? I forgot to bring a towel,” you cut him off. Jongho grabbed it, then handed it to you. “And it's okay,” you said, getting out to dry off. “I don't mind. I'm used to it.”

“I still shouldn't take advantage of my position over you,” he said. “I don't want you to think I'm that kind of handler. I wouldn't do that to you.’

“Unless our Masters say so, right?”

“Right.”

Just because he looked so sweet and you couldn't help yourself, you drew close and said, “I do hope that happens soon. There are a lot more positions you could have over me.”

“YN…”

You let him have one last peek before leaving the bathroom. You might get in trouble, you might not. You didn't care at the moment. It felt good. For once, you held a bit of power in your hands, and nobody could take it from you. 

***

A/N: as you can see, I can't stop myself from adding the other members lmao I hope you enjoyed this one, Hongjoong is one the way and...yeah, you're in for it lol

[shonen-brainrot]

Dragon!Kirishima, who is a huge dragon with fiery red scales that gleam brilliantly. Crowned with two razor-sharp horns, he boasts a majestic golden-red mane that billows in the wind as he soars through the skies, his massive wings casting an impressive shadow below.

Dragon!Kirishima, who is a fire dragon. When faced with a threat or an intruder trespassing on his territory, he doesn't hesitate to unleash torrents of scorching flames, leaving behind a searing trail.

Dragon!Kirishima, with an affinity for all things shiny and golden, shares the common dragon love for richness. His lair is adorned with numerous trophies and trinkets, golden coins and goblets, jewelry, gold bars and many, many more.

Dragon!Kirishima, who is all about rhubarb and figs. Every dragon craves heaps of calcium, and it comes from different sources.

Dragon!Kirishima, who experiences intense heats, making it hard for him to think straight, with his mind consumed by the overwhelming desire to relieve himself in any way possible.

Dragon!Kirishima, who's finding amusement as you navigate lost in his territory, initially contemplates swift retribution. However, upon catching a whiff of your sweet and intoxicating scent, he has a change of heart, opting for a more intriguing course of action.

Dragon!Kirishima, who waits until you enter his den before revealing his massive presence. Amused by your initial screams, he reassures you that he won't harm you and offers a deal – your assistance in helping him get off in exchange for your safety.

Dragon!Kirishima, who, beneath his impeccably sculpted strong abdomen, has not one, but two cocks. Both of his impressive cocks boast extraordinary length, a substantial girth, and a mesmerizing gradient of coloration. Starting with a striking crimson hue near his pelvis, the tones gradually transform into a captivating shade of gold at their tips.

Dragon!Kirishima, who keenly observes as you tentatively discard your garments. In a swift and deliberate motion, his forked, serpentine tongue envelops the entirety of your pussy, earning him a chorus of sweet moans from your lips. The sensation of your exquisite flavor cascading over his tongue sends waves of wild passion coursing through him.

Dragon!Kirishima, who guides you through a series of climaxes with the adept use of his to gue and muzzle. The relentless waves of pleasure leave you thoroughly drenched, creating an ideal state for accommodating one of his impressive cocks.

Dragon!Kirishima, who, once you're wet enough, confidently seizes the opportunity to simultaneously fill both of your eager holes with his cocks. Witnessing you completely engulfed by him ignites a primal surge of satisfaction within the dragon.

Dragon!Kirishima, who fucks you in a forceful, hard rhythm, thrusting into you with primal, guttural sounds escaping his muzzle.

Dragon!Kirishima, who's nearly pushed over the edge by the symphony of your sweet pleas and desperate cries, as you express your inability to last any more.

Dragon!Kirishima, who's unleashing his runny, golden cum in a series of at least a few robust spurts, roaring loudly, praising you for taking both of his cock so well.

Dragon!Kirishima, who, having reached his peak, insists on keeping you close, sprawled on his massive, scaled paws. He watches you breathing heavily, pressing his sizable muzzle against your abdomen, savoring the lingering scent of your slick wetness and of the sex you just had, still hanging in the air.

Dragon!Kirishima, who's confident in his allure, and knows you'll return for more. After a bit of post-coital cuddling, he fulfills his promise and allows you to depart from his den, fully aware that you'll be irresistibly drawn back to him.

Dragon!Kirishima, who's deeming you his mate, luxuriously spoils you with furs, trinkets, and jewelry. Whatever you desire, simply ask, and it's yours.

Dragon!Kirishima, who has a little secret he hasn't revealed yet - a human form tucked away. He decided to keep that tantalizing mystery for himself just a bit longer.

these headcanons were requested by my lovely mutual @crystalwolfblog ilysm ❤️

[misswynters]

Aemond Targaryen as your husband: headcanon

[a/n: there are some sensual undertones here so if you don’t wanna read that you can skip it. it’s after the seperator

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

similar | jace | aegon | cregan | daeron | gwayne

Aemond is fiercely protective of you. His intense loyalty means he is always by your side, ensuring your safety and well-being. He often places himself between you and any perceived threat, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword.

Aemond isn’t one for grand romantic gestures, but his love for you is evident in the small things. He brushes your hair out of your face, ensures your chambers are always warm, and leaves books he thinks you’d enjoy on your bedside table.

As your husband, Aemond values your opinion on matters of state and politics. He seeks your counsel in private, trusting your judgment and treating you as an equal partner in all decisions.

Aemond admires your intelligence and enjoys engaging in deep conversations with you. Whether it’s discussing the histories of Westeros, strategy, or philosophy, he relishes the intellectual stimulation you provide.

Aemond respects your strength and encourages you to train with him. He enjoys sparring sessions where you both hone your skills, often leading to playful banter and mutual admiration.

You and Aemond have an unspoken bond, sharing secrets that no one else knows. He trusts you implicitly and confides in you about his deepest fears and ambitions.

Despite his stern exterior, Aemond has a soft spot for you. In private, he’s tender and gentle, often holding you close and whispering sweet nothings that contrast sharply with his public demeanor.

Aemond enjoys gifting you rare and precious items, from intricate jewelry to exotic silks. He takes pride in finding unique treasures that reflect your tastes and interests.

One of your favorite pastimes is riding Vhagar together. The thrill of soaring through the skies, feeling the wind in your hair, and the shared experience of dragon riding brings you closer. Aemond often points out landmarks and recounts stories from his childhood as you fly.

Aemond’s loyalty to you is unwavering. He defends your honor fiercely and would go to great lengths to protect you from harm. His love is intense and all-consuming, leaving no room for doubt.

Through your relationship, Aemond learns to open up more emotionally. Your patience and understanding help him grow, allowing him to express his feelings more freely and strengthening your bond.

Aemond is your biggest supporter. Whether you’re pursuing a personal project or navigating court politics, he’s always there to offer encouragement and practical advice.

Aemond is devoted to your future children. He takes an active role in their upbringing, ensuring they are well-educated and trained. He often tells them stories of his own adventures and the legacy of House Targaryen.

Despite the challenges you face, your bond with Aemond is unbreakable. Together, you are a formidable team, facing the world with strength and determination. Your love for each other is a constant source of comfort and inspiration, guiding you through the trials of life in Westeros.

Aemond’s eye always finds you in a room full of people. The way he looks at you, with a mix of desire and admiration, sends shivers down your spine. His gaze alone can make you feel cherished and wanted.

In private, Aemond’s touches are gentle and deliberate. He traces his fingers along your skin, memorizing every curve and line. Whether it’s a light touch on your hand or a caress along your back, he makes you feel treasured.

Aemond’s kisses are a mix of urgency and tenderness. He captures your lips with an intensity that leaves you breathless, his hands cradling your face as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Late at night, when the castle is quiet, Aemond whispers sweet and sultry words in your ear. He tells you of his desires, his dreams, and how deeply he loves you. His voice, low and husky, wraps around you like a warm embrace.

Aemond takes his time when you’re having sex. He believes in savoring every moment, exploring your body with a careful and practiced touch. His focus is entirely on your pleasure, ensuring you feel loved and satisfied.

There’s a powerful, unspoken connection between you. A single look from Aemond can communicate a thousand words. In moments of intimacy, you don’t need to speak; your bodies and souls understand each other perfectly.

After a long day, Aemond loves to hold you close. He wraps his arms around you, his body shielding yours. The warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart are the ultimate comfort, making you feel safe and adored. Giving you the love that his mother didn’t give him.

Aemond is particularly affectionate in the mornings. He wakes you with soft kisses on your neck and shoulders, his hands gently exploring your body as he whispers good morning. These moments set a loving tone for the day ahead.

Aemond enjoys sharing baths with you. The intimacy of washing each other, feeling the warm water and his hands on your skin, creates a deep bond. He loves to see you relaxed and content, and he takes his time, making sure every touch is soothing and sensual.

Despite his duties, Aemond finds time for secret sex. Whether it’s a secluded garden or a hidden room in the castle, he ensures you have moments of privacy to express your love and passion freely.

banner by: @cafekitsune

[plaguedwithlove]

What Lies In The Water

Yandere! Water deity x fem!reader

Warnings: third person point of view, self-sacrifice, non-con, willing reader(but not really), doing it on land

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

The girl sheds herself of her garbs, the wind sends her slight chills down her spine yet she dips her foot in the water soon as she is bare, for the deity that curses these waters has no patience

Looking behind her one last time at her village, she lets out a small goodbye and walks slowly into the jaws of the angered spirit, an act of self sacrifice

Going deeper into the pond, her (h/c) hair flowing behind her like a veil, awaiting her fate

Then she feels it, the water current surrounds her like greedy hands, the currents course around her breasts, her thighs, areas that were most sensitive to the touch

The water slowly forms into hands, large and rough. Touching her as if examining her, sensual yet possessive. Her breath hitches when she feels what was akin to lips trail up from her back to her neck

"Mmm, what a fine compromise here, I am pleased with this gift from your people."

The girl keeps her head low, not bearing to look at the eyes she will see for the rest of her life, to the being that now possessed her body and her soul

"Let me look at you, sweeting." He whispers in her whisper as she gently grabs her chin to look at him

The gloomy grey eyes was the first thing she saw, she gasps and becomes overwhelmed at how beautiful he was

Such long platinum blonde wavy hair he had, and a regal nose to emphasize how elegant his face was. A gentle face for a cruel soul

"By the heavens above, such a pretty little thing you are. I am surprised your village let such a beautiful flower get plucked." The way his hands explore the girl's body was in contrast to how he looked at her, almost like a lover would

He did love her though

Love her like a nobleman loves his most prized possessions

Love her like a princess loves her jewelry

Love her like a King loves his power

"Tell me your name, o beloved."

She had willingly gave away her body to this deity, she was hesitant to give away her final keeping, her name. What more could he take from her before she is left with nothing? She'd rather him to call her a nickname for the rest of time if it meant he'll never know her true name

"Come now, we have all night but I truly wish do not desire to prolong our process of union."

Despite, how vague he was, she completely understood what would happen tonight, he was a man still after all. He would take her purity and ravish her until she is no more

Her name escapes her lips with a slight choke, she had nothing to lose anymore

The deity smiles fondly, content with her submission

"(Name), consort to Glyndwr for all of eternity."

Then, he leads her near the shore to her surprise, she had expected him to sink her down in the deep with him

Once reaching where the water meets the dry land, Glyndwr gently pushes her on the ground

"Relish in our consummation as this will be the last time you will ever be on land, my water lily."

Her eyes widen in horror and dread, though she still lies down, completely at the mercy of her now husband, the hellstorm of emotions happening inside her in stark difference to her compliance

She remains down where the water still touches her, yet not enough to where she would be engulfed

Glyndwr's body was in full view, pale and large. Not much muscles, yet a strong physique, he gets on his knees wrapping her legs around his waist, his cock ready to penetrate her. He caresses her thighs before reaching her plump ass. Squeezing gently at the cheek

"May the skies witness the ceremony of our love."

His hips lean back before slowly pushing forward inside her, he sighs in pleasure, she cries in pain

Once fully inside her, he lets out a groan biting at his bottom lips to prevent himself from screaming from the overblowing ecstasy

His bride beneath him shakes in discomfort, eyes becoming shiny from the tears

'It will all become bliss in no time, patience."

His hips move back and forth in a steady pace, the rhythm of his body causes the water around them to splash and ripple disorderly

If the sound of their skin crashing wasn't enough proof to her ears of forced sex, then the pain in her abdomen would be

Promised pleasure never came, only anguish and silent moans of hurting

What only came was the seed of Glyndwr coursing inside her body

"That should take, but it doesn't matter if it does not now, for we shall continue this in the depths of our home."

Picking up his motionless bride, Glyndwr sets her in his arms, slowly walking into the abyss, never again would she see the sun shine

[chrisbesitos]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ballerina & dealer. 🌟

꒰͡⠀ballerina.ᐟreader⠀͡꒱ 🩰

pink soul. looks like a cinnamon roll. girly girl. "matilda" by harry styles. ballet is her life. bows. shy. literature student. stars. sensitive. cat person. love language is physical touch. hello kitty enthusiastic. cries if her bf says 'no'. cuddles&hugs all the time. mommy issues. perfectionist. bed full of plushies. low profile. white cat vibes.

꒰͡⠀dealer.ᐟchris⠀͡꒱ 💸

all black. looks like a cinnamon roll but can kill u if u mess with his girl. lil skies coded. midnight car drives. love language is acts of service. black cat vibes. silver jewelry. gifts for his gf always. night person. no social media.