#so yeah. be a bit wicked sometimes

[mzannthropy]

Reading The Count of Monte Cristo makes me think about morally grey characters and I come to the conclusion that it pays to have a bit of a dark side.

Not to be messed around with, you know.

[dullahandyke]

didnt even touch on the sandra lynn stuff int he tags of the last post bcos if i talk about her im liable to explode. get behind me, middle-aged divorced woman proficient in archery

[13eyond13]

one of the lesser talked about fun things about intentionally reading more books is finding new stuff to be a bit of a hater about tbh

[merkerlerspeaks]

Zodi/Celeste/Raine is somehow both my baby and also the girl my inner little weird girl looks up to so much she adopts parts of her as her personality

[guinevereslancelot]

i'm literally so dumb

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji cannot wait to break in his virgin girlfriend—though until then, he’ll settle for simply teasing you until you’re a trembling mess.

tags. toji fushiguro x virgin!female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). corruption kink. dry humping? cum play. size difference. reader gets called ‘princess, doll’ queued

toji loves to tease you—you know that very well. he thrives off your reactions to his dirty words, the subtle yet naughty touches that he sneaks in during conversations, the seductive glint in his half lidded eyes whenever you’re around . . he knows what he’s doing.

even more so when you’re in his bed at night. you usually cuddle, sometimes make out and grind against each other, but nothing too lewd yet. toji doesn’t mind waiting to get a taste of you. he knows it will be worth the wait at the end.

but oh—is it difficult. so, so difficult. especially when you allow him access to more parts of your body.

“shit, princess,” he pants, hissing a bit when the mushroom tip of his cock bumps against your clothed clit, “y’re gettin’ so wet, huh? just by looking at my cock ‘n feeling it rub against your pussy.”

your cotton panties surely are damp with arousal; from both toji and you. his pre-cum mixes with your juices, ruining your favorite pair of panties. the wet spot forming near your slit only gets darker and darker the more you allow toji to rub his dick back and forth over your cunt.

“mngh—fuck. need you,” you whine, unable to fight the urge to buck your hips against his fat cock. your eyes dart up to your boyfriend to express your neediness, but he grabs your nape and guides your gaze back to his red tip pushing against your sloppy underwear.

toji lets out a dry chuckle. “i know y’ do. y’r pussy told me that long time ago,” he comments while he watches your adorable reactions to him pushing and pulling his cock from your clothed pussy. he’s only interested in you—the way your eyes glisten with tears and pleasure.

if it isn’t for his self control, he would have fucked you by now. but he’ll patiently wait until the perfect timing to push through that invisible wall, to pop your cherry while he looks you in the eyes, taking that innocence from you that he oh-so loves.

“want my cock, doll?” toji asks with a wicked grin. his large hands runs over your chest to your tummy. he guides his shaft over to your belly, measuring how much of your insides it would fill. “mm, yeah—would mess you up pretty bad,” he hums as the tip reaches your belly button. even further than that.

the thought excites the older man. to be your first, the first man who’ll mould your pussy to only fit his cock. no one else will have the honor of stripping you from your virginity.

“want it. want it all the way inside me,” you reply back, voice shaking with excitement. you’re going to cum soon from him simply grinding against your clothed cunt. your poor clit is continuously being circled and bumped against by his tip and it’s driving you crazy.

toji swallows thickly. “don’t ya tempt me like that,” he warns you in a dark tone. he runs a rough finger over your wet panties, keeping your legs spread wide with his knees. he easily finds your little hole as the cotton material sticks to your pussy, showing the outlines of your lips.

“might just push in here. .” toji murmurs as he positions the leaking head of his dick against your covered entrance, “. . and fill you up while hearing you scream my name. sounds good, ay?”

you gasp and feel your cunt clench around nothing. his hips move back and forth, shallow thrusts against the barrier that is your panties, mimicking the real thing. “y-yeah—oh, ‘m g’nna cum,” your heart rate picks up as your back arches off the mattress.

toji raises an eyebrow, secretly finding it endearing how that is the action that pushes you over the edge. you’re so adorable; simply thinking of him actually fucking you senseless and the feeling of his tip seeking your pussy is enough.

“aww, she’s gonna cum,” the dark-haired man snickers after mocking you. toji gauges your reactions and grins when he sees your head rolling back against the pillow.

“do y’ wanna cum together? we can,” he smirks as he leans down to intertwine your hands—playing the role of the gentle boyfriend who’s having sex with his girlfriend for the first time. he’s trying to give you the full experience while not actually giving it to you yet.

“y-yes, wanna cum together,” you nod mindlessly, your mouth feeling dry. you squeeze your eyes shut while also holding tightly onto toji’s hand. your pussy tightens up around air while your hips buck up to meet toji’s thrusts against your covered, wet hole.

“c-close—ngh, toji!” your eyes widen once his tip pressing snugly between your pussy lips. for a second it felt like his cock had successfully breached through your panties. that short-lived moment is enough to push you over the edge and cum on spot.

toji witnesses the bliss in your facial expression and he groans. “fuckkk—take it. g’nna cum all over ya princess,” he presses his hips firmly against yours, his full length resting right between your wet folds, ropes of cum spurting out of his aching tip.

you feel the sticky liquid stain your belly, running down to the waistband of your panties and even staining the front part. your choked up moans are music to your boyfriend’s ears while he calms down from his own orgasm.

his big biceps tremble as he holds himself up above you, grinning from ear to ear. “keheh, made a mess out of you,” toji’s voice is filled with pride. he lets you cling onto him for as long as you need to.

his eyes dart down to the sticky mess on your tummy and panties. the older man leans back on his knees to admire the view. he really couldn’t wait to actually slide inside of your tight cunt—but this will suffice for now. the sight of his cute girlfriend trembling and whimpering beneath him makes up for everything.

his fingers hook around the waistband of your panties. “can i look, doll?” toji asks in a gruff voice, desparate to see your glistening cunt. you weakly nod and he doesn’t waste any more time.

the sight greeting him when he pulls your underwear down is nearly enough to make him cum again. your juices are everywhere, multiple strings of wetness connecting your pussy to your panties. they snap one after the other as your panties are slowly removed.

“oh, y’re such a messy girl,” toji sighs, leaning down to kiss your tummy, licking up some of his own cum. you shiver and your hands dart out to hold onto his black hair. he chuckles at the gesture, humming in acknowledgement.

his eyes darken when he catches a glimpse of your sopping pussy again. he’s so close to it — so extremely close. his gaze darts over to a drop of his cum that threatens to slide down and over your clit. the heat and smell of your cunt is driving that man to the brink of insanity.

toji lolls his tongue out, eyes glistening with desire while he pushes your legs up and over his shoulders, big hands holding onto your hips. drool gathers in the corners of his mouth as his face hovers right between your legs;

“mind if i have a taste of you, princess? jus’ a quick one, i promise.”

[nosyrobin]

Tiny request for twin reader with damian mabye they were seperated at birth aka talia gave bruce twin reader and kept damian but win reader has some kind of disability like walking with crutches and as soon as damian moves in he goes into protective brother mode and always tries to help twin reader

“I’m your protector.”

Damian Al ghul-Wayne x Disabled! Twinreader

Summary: separated from birth, Damian finds out you are disabled from walking. Knowing that you are his blood sibling, he can’t help but be protective over you

After Talia revealed to Damian he had a twin (brother/sister) that she gave away to his father all because you were disabled. He felt anger towards his mother and a little bit of betrayal.

How could she keep such a secret from him and the fact she just gave you away made him feel…protective.

He wants to know you are okay. He wants to make sure you are okay. So when he moved into his new room, he got a knock on his door. He opens it to see, you. You had crutches, smiling as your hand grip the crutches handle. “Brother! Oh my, we do look the same!” You were excited, happy. Damian immediately observed you, he sees you are pure of light. He was right to feel protective when you don’t know much of the words he is saying with his high vocabulary.

He draws and colors on your crutches, he likes to see the light in your eyes when he draws what you like on your crutches.

You both may be different, but his brotherly love is not. He’s always sitting by you, dinner, breakfast, lunch out of the manor, events, galas. He’s always there. Sure Bruce would try and tell Damian that you can protect yourself, maybe even that you can do things without his help. But you’re ten, just like him. So what did he do? Not listen to his father like he always do.

He’s happy to know you never wanted or tried to be Robin. His heart would break knowing that his precious half would try and fight. But that also meant you never learned how to protect yourself and fight mostly, making it worse for Damian to grasp.

Damian tried not to baby you much, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious at those random thoughts in the back of his head. “They’re gonna fall one day, what if no one is there to pick him up.” He would sometimes just sleep on a chair in your room incase you fall off your bed.

Damian would train Titus for whenever you fall and you can’t reach your crutches. He would have Titus use his body and guide you somewhere so you can get up.

“I’m your protector.” He would say when he sees you trying to get up and grab your crutches. But titus and him are already up and helping you. You laugh thinking he’s joking, but he’s not.

If you’re sick? Protectiveness levels are off the charts when he sees you cough and shake. Yeah he’s not going to school until you’re better. No way he’s leaving his sibling at home!

Would call pennyworth off his phone if you are homeschooled. Always checking up on you no matter what, it doesn’t matter if Alfred says you are okay. He wants to hear you say it.

If someone dared to make fun of you, he’s after them like the devil himself. If they dared to try and take your crutches, it’s gonna get wicked. Even god himself won’t be able to take Damian off the assailant.

Say you were also on the artistic route, he would absolutely treasure your art work. “It’s bad..” you said once, and Damian straight up lectured you about how art takes time and how beautiful your art work is to him no matter what.

I can see Jason saying it’s true the artwork looked terrible, and Damian just straight up chased him around angrily while you try to tell Damian it’s okay.

Titus adores you, and you adore Titus which makes Damian feel even better that Titus likes you. I mean who wouldn’t when literally you are the sunshine of the family.

Damian definitely have written letters to you when he was on “punishment” is what he called it when he had to go work with the titans. So when you visit him at the titans tower, he made sure most things were safe proof for you. Kory already knew you because of Dick. Kory tries to reason to Damian as he literally rips something apart because he deemed it as “unsafe.” But did he listen? No.

When beast boy playfully was play fighting with you, Damian was ready to cut Garfield’s head off. Only for you to wipe the floor of the green shapeshifter by using your crutch as a bat. Damian hid his sword with a smirk, maybe he doesn’t need to protect you much.

[anantaru]

overprotective ex!boyfriend aventurine??? <3

cw. [ex]plicit, rough sex, toxic relationship (you cannot keep a distance from each other!!!), he's obsessed with you, ex! boyfriend au, fem! reader

let's get one thing straight out of the way.

aventurine and you were not broken up. it was merely a skimpy, little break— not worth bothering about.

at least that's how he saw it, and aventurine couldn't believe that this pointless pause was turning from a couple days to multiple weeks. precisely how you give off the idea of wanting to move on? live life but not with him in the picture?

without reserve, it turned him insane.

although luckily enough, aventurine had no plans of letting you go.

he wanted your relationship to go on forever, because you see, aventurine doesn't just love you, that certainly wasn't enough— he was undoubtedly obsessed with you, and the more you two were apart from one another, the more you craved each other.

or at least the physical aspect of it.

you cannot help it, and you know it's wrong— but there was only one person who knew your body from inside and out, who would reach for the stars in the sky in order to make you happy. aventurine wasn't the easiest person to get along with, sure, but that didn't mean you could just forget about him, not when you were still very much in love with him too.

to a higher standard, you do realize you were important to him, right? he's a little fucked up in the head and sometimes seems like he's lost his mind, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how love was supposed to feel like.

you showed him how it looked like, yes, how it felt, of course, how it moved and tasted.

at this point, you were really using each other for selfish reasons, acting like two dirty liars with two different goals.

aventurine was angel alike, calming to ones gaze— hypnotizing eyes that swerve tremors through your veins when he fixes you underneath his famished glare, or his cheeky grin that spread wide and sharpened on instinct when he catches you stare.

when it comes to the hold he had on your body, you are done for, sensed the magic-like pull resembling that of a moth to a fire, igniting your deepest desires.

"i knew you'd come back to me, sweetheart," aventurine's sugarcoated, and a little eerie whispers leisurely trickle from the tip of his tongue before running a cold shiver down your spine, "because you see baby, you always do."

"nothing can break us apart, isn't that correct?"

his thrusts were usually on the stronger side, but they held on to calculated movements of his hips trapping yours against the mattress.

his grinds and sensual thrusts ripple through your opening, rutting back and forth your sopping walls, truly restlessly, his raw skin connecting and hungrily soaking up your filthy juices.

your blistering hot cunt was designed to turn him into a mess, one that cannot get enough of you— aventurine gets drunk on the feeling of your pussy suffocating his shaft, and he's making you look at him through a doe-eyed expression when his tongue darts past his mouth to lick across your bottom lip, listlessly pulling angelic noises from you.

aventurine doesn't make love to you, such phraseology enunciated boredom to him personally.

at the same time, he fucked you with meaning— until the bed rocks violently back and forth and scratches the wooden floor as he reminds you on whom your body belonged to.

it's euphoric, salacious and wicked in the way how your snug, constricted cunt shivered around his hefty girth, his tip embedding a touch of feathers once and away your golden spots until you were crying out his darling name.

he drags further into your creamy cunt until you clench a bit, resulting in his thrusts stuttering through one, big snap forward and fuck, it's just so long, covering every spot on your walls without much thought.

and yeah, that's right, aventurine was not only confident in his skills but moved his shaft as precisely as you liked.

although now, his hips were suddenly turning slow and ponderous— you already know that he did it on purpose, probably to taunt and make you beg for him, or perhaps so he could slant forward and hypnotize your eyes with his own, buzzing gaze.

your legs were tensing hard around his waist as he angles his hips just right, setting off sparks behind your eyes when he pushes down on your bristling pussy— how magical and full you felt, it turned your brain overstimulated to the point where no left over energy in your body was able to even focus on the aftermath.

the moments that follow next, the consequences of fucking your ex boyfriend, merely days after your problematic break-up.

but that's what you wanted, right? it's what your body craves when you look at him through soused lashes, sticky mascara smeared over your eyes as his warm heaves ghost along your wet lips.

a big, twisted smirk on his face finalized this situation, your mind spiraling into the humid air upon witnessing it.

right then and there, it feels like there weren't any problems— only aventurine and you, grinding your bodies together with your heart rattling against your chest when he thrusts all the way inside of you until his balls hit your ass, his erection delving all the way forward.

how indescribably strange love was.

it can be destructive, but at the same time, it can pump the adrenaline and make your heart beat rapidly.

that was something no science could explain, honestly, an all-consuming emotion, engulfing your body and mind.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[gremlinmodetweeker]

When König Freaks Out

I think that sometimes, people don't really know how to write König getting mad. I think a lot of people assume that because he's a soldier, he loses his shit all the time. Either that, or they assume he's nervous and scared. He's not either. He's a colonel (or, was), he is far too self disciplined to lose himself like that. However, König isn't always able to control himself. Under special circumstances, König loses his shit.

TWs: König yelling, teasing, childhood photos being used to embarrass König

Wordcount: 1.2k

Art from This Post

König is a very, very stable person. He almost never lets his true emotions show. It's extremely rare. Sure he has his sadistic belly laughs, but other than that, König doesn't express himself fully. He just doesn't.

König doesn't cry. He doesn't yell when he's around civvies. He doesn't even swear much when in casual conversation. He may seem relaxed and calm, but if you pay attention, he's extremely careful with what he says and how he says it. Part of it is social anxiety; he's extremely aware of how he's being perceived and takes care to curtail that image to his need. He needed to be careful to rise the ranks as quickly as he did. He's not colonel for nothing.

High ranking military personnel are not like your average soldiers, especially among special ops. Lower soldiers might be careless and rough and hardened, but to be a colonel you need to be the perfect soldier. You need to drink, but not too much. You need to be a gentleman, but you need to be dirty. You need to be kind in public, cruel on the field. It's a position of contradictions. Not many civvies understand how hard these people have their entire identities on lockdown. They often compartmentalize their lives to be able to function in different settings. They have to be, at the very least a little bit, sociopathic to succeed. Again, they're not inherently evil, I'm not saying König is evil. I am saying that if you pay attention to him in a civvie situation though, you'll notice that he is an unflappable gentleman. You'd never know he was out at the bar until 3am with his drinking buddies the night before and nursing a wicked hangover while he's sipping coffee at lunch with you.

Why am I being so careful to outline how calm and steady König is? It's because when he freaks out it's usually insanely funny, or terrifying. Sometimes both.

Now, I've told you all before in this post that König's instinctual reaction to being startled is to fight. He will punch first and ask questions second. But, sometimes, König doesn't get scared.

He gets mad.

König is normally hard to upset, but family reunions bring something special out of König. Something dark, something hidden, something murderous. It's not battlefield rage, it's worse. It's the hatred and fury of being the youngest brother in the family, and it all comes out when he brings you to a reunion and they bring out the baby photos.

"Nein, nein, nein," König will chant as he rips the photo album out of his sister's hands, "this is going back on the shelf."

You're already cackling because it's far too late to go back.

"But you looked so cute in the tub!" Lisa's grinning from ear to ear as her little brother loses his shit

"Why do we even have those pictures?" König huffs as he slumps back in his chair, "we don't need them. They can be burnt."

"You know, you grew a better beard as a kid than you do now," Friedrich mutters as he sips his beer.

"I grow a perfectly fine beard!" König snaps.

"You call that shit-stain on your face facial hair?" Stephen looks down his nose at the youngest Leichenberg.

"I can't help it!" König grumbles, "I try to shave but then it all grows back."

"Yeah," Friedrich rolls his eyes, "that's what happens, Kilgore. It's called biology."

"No!" König huffs, "it grows fast! Too fast! By the time I go to bed it's already making my face itch!"

"So you keep that on your face?" Lisa points and laughs.

"It's trimmed," König grumbles and rubs his chin before turning to you, "it looks nice. You think it looks nice, right?"

You look at his dark stubble, a stark contrast to his wheat blond hair. In truth, he looks rather handsome with the dark shadow on his jaw. He does his best to keep it nice and trimmed (always in regulation), but since you arrived in Austria five days ago, the stubble has grown into an unruly thing on his face.

"You haven't trimmed in a bit," you admit.

"See! Even your wife thinks it looks like a rat's nest," Klara snorts.

"I wouldn't go that far-"

"I look fine!" König's voice raises up a notch with indignation.

"Mama," Friedrich ducks around the door to the kitchen, "come tell Kilgore he needs to shave."

The little woman pops out of the kitchen to glare at her son. She looks him up and down and scoffs.

"You call yourself a colonel? Tch, you look like a mangy dog."

She ducks back around the corner to tend to the oven.

"I DO NOT LOOK LIKE A DOG!"

Everyone (except you) laughs as König's face turns a bright violent red as he squawks furiously. He huffs and puffs, just on the brink of a meltdown as his family taunts him further.

"And he looked so good with a full bubble beard!" Klara laughs.

"Oh but you looked better," Friedreich snaps another album off the shelf and flicks through the photos, but stops on another page, "oh wait, we'll look at that later. Look at this picture of Kilgore on his first birthday!"

Even you can't help but laugh as Friedrich brandishes the offending photo.

There, bordered in paper butterflies and tulips, is König sitting in a puddle of mud, gleefully shovelling a handful of the muck into his mouth. I the background, a young Friedrich has Stephen in a headlock while Lisa, the only presentable sibling, is eating a slice of König's cake.

"Mama worked for days on that cake, but Kilgore only wanted to eat the mud," Stephen explained as König bellowed slurs at his eldest brother.

Lisa was beside herself with laughter, nearly keeling over out of the chair as Klara pointed out how, in this photo as well, König was completely nude. Apparently, getting young König to wear clothes was quite the task.

"WE DO NOT NEED MORE PICTURES," König roared as Lisa pulled out another album.

König looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel at this rate. The only time you ever saw König this worked up was when he was dealing with subordinates. Never before had you seen König lose his temper quite like this. A part of you was horrified, another part amazed by how easily his siblings pressed all the right buttons to make him tick.

"Look how stoic our little soldier boy is!" Stephen remarked as König smacked his meaty fist against his thigh with a thick thud.

"I. AM. A. COLONEL!" König howled.

He was about to carry on before all the siblings went silent. Even König stilled, his mouth clamping shut with a click as he looked behind you. You turned to look at what stopped them to find the elder Fritz Leichenberg holding up a hand.

He uncrossed his long, long legs and adjusted his half-moon glasses on his hooked nose. Soft, watery blue eyes looked down at his youngest son. He gently pulled his tobacco pipe from beneath his salt and pepper moustache and rang a long, veiny hand through his bushy beard lightly. He blinked once, then said, "Kilgore. Go upstairs and shave. You look atrocious. I can't send out Christmas cards pictures when you look like this."

The room echoes with laughter as König slowly pulls himself to his feet and trudges up the creaking stairs, off to shave the unruly mess off his face.

Regular Fanfics

[pickingupmymercedes]

Partition - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Partition - Beyoncé - @scuderiarossa

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: smutty (there's a bit of angst to start though)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The limo’s low hum is almost soothing, a contrast to the coiled tension radiating off Lewis.

I’d thought the worst of this would have been over after the last race—when he’d crossed the finish line and nothing, no controversial ruling, no last-lap drama, could take that eighth title away from him.

He had stood on the top step, grinning like the world had righted itself, like he could finally put those ghosts behind him.

For a few days, I believed it too. He’d laughed more, had this lightness about him that made everything feel... easier. I thought we’d left that weight in the past, buried under the trophy he had lifted with both hands.

But trauma, it has a way of sticking around, of finding cracks to sneak through.

And today, on the night of the ceremony where he’d finally be recognized as what he’s been, he’s back to being that stone of tension.

I watch him, his brow furrowed as his gaze lingers out the window. His hand rests on his thigh, fingers twitching in that way they do when his mind won’t stop.

I know how much history weighs on him.

It’s why I’m here, why I slid into a deep burgundy dress and spent 45 minutes getting everything just right. I know what tonight means to him.

My hand moves up to his chest, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his suit jacket. “You shouldn’t still be this tense, babe. The season’s over. You won.”

He doesn’t answer right away, just exhales a deep breath, eyes still fixed on the lights of Paris streaming by. “Yeah” he finally says, his voice tight, restrained. “I... I just don’t want anything to go wrong tonight.”

I study him for a moment, my heart squeezing at the vulnerability in his voice. Lewis Hamilton doesn’t let that part of him show often, not to the world, and sometimes not even to me.

But it’s there, under all the strength, the confidence, the legend. He carries everything with him—every win, every loss, every time someone questioned his place, his worth.

And that weight, it’s heavy.

“I get it” I say softly, my hand resting more firmly on his thigh. “But tonight, isn’t about proving anything. You’ve already done that.”

His eyes flick to mine, and I see the briefest flicker of doubt, like even now, standing on the cusp of the recognition he’s deserved for years, he’s still fighting ghosts.

Well, not tonight, not on my watch.

I move closer, my lips brushing against his ear. “You need to stop thinking so damn much” I murmur, my fingers trailing higher, teasing the tension right out of him.

His brow lifts slightly, a knowing look passing between us. "Do I?"

I don’t answer him with words. I just give him a look, the one that promises I’m about to make him forget every damn thing that’s been on his mind.

The past can haunt him, but tonight? Tonight, he’s going to feel exactly what he is.

I smirk, settling in closer, my hand sliding up to his chest, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Paris traffic isn’t going anywhere. We’ve got, what—thirty minutes?”

He raises a brow, catching on quickly, though there’s still that edge in his eyes. "And what are you proposing we do, love?"

I meet his gaze with a wicked grin, as I call for the driver. “Monsieur, pouvons nous avoir un peu d’intimité?” (Sir, can we have some privacy)

His eyes darken as he hears the french roll from my tongue and watches me shift off the seat, positioning myself between his legs.

My dress pools around me, and for a moment, there’s only the sound of his breathing, heavy and expectant. I lock eyes with him as I reach for his belt, my fingers making quick work of the buckle.

"Est-ce que tu aimes le sexe? Le coit… Tu aimes ça?” I tease him, echoing a familiar line with a playful smirk. (Do you like sex? The sexual act... Do you like it?)

His chuckle is low as he gets the reference, but it quickly fades as I pull him free, my hand wrapping around his growing hardness.

This night is his, and I’m going to make sure he walks in that gala like the titan he is.

I take him into my mouth slowly, savoring the groan that escapes his lips, his hand instinctively coming to rest at my exposed arm.

My mascara is going to be a mess after this, and my lipstick—well, that’s going to be a different story altogether. But it doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters except this moment, and the way I can feel his body start to loosen under my touch.

I work him with the same precision he uses on the track—focused, determined, in complete control. His grip on my skin tightens, his breathing quickens, and I can tell he’s close.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he growls, his voice thick with need. His hips buck slightly, and I feel him pulse against my tongue.

I push him right to the edge before he tumbles over, his release hitting the back of my throat as I swallow every bit of it.

There’s nothing around to clean up, so I do what I have to—handle it like a pro.

I pull back slowly, giving him one last teasing kiss before I sit up, licking my lips. His head is thrown back against the seat, eyes closed, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

“Better?” I ask, carefully wiping the corner of my mouth with my thumb to smudge a minimal amount of lipstick.

He opens his eyes, that stormy expression from earlier completely gone. Now, he just looks at me with a satisfied and lazy grin that certainly beats that gaze he occasionally gives Will Buxton.

“Way to take the edge off” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with affection, a finger still on my arm, tracing circles on the skin there.

I reach into my clutch, pulling out the tube of red lipstick and expertly reapplying it in the dim light.

As I lean back to check my reflection, I notice something on his shirt—a small smudge of lipstick, the same shade I’m wearing, right at the hem of his blazer jacket.

I smirk. “Looks like I left a little souvenir.”

Lewis glances down, following my gaze to the stain, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course, you did.”

“Do you think they’ll notice it’s my shade, too,” I tease, reaching out to fix the collar of his undershirt. “Maybe get them to wonder.”

His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing lightly against my jaw. “I don’t care what they think” he says, his voice dropping an octave, more serious now.

“Good.” I lean in, pressing my freshly reapplied lips to his lightly, tasting the remnants of him still on my tongue. “Because tonight’s yours. You’re going to walk into that ceremony and claim what’s been yours.”

He pulls back, his brow arching slightly. "And then?"

I settle back into my seat, crossing my legs slowly, deliberately. “Then, I’m all yours. But first, you’ve got a circus to attend.”

His grin widens, that familiar spark of confidence returning to his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The limo slows to a stop, the sounds of Paris creeping back into the cabin. The driver opens the door, and I adjust my dress, smoothing out the fabric as Lewis steps out first, his hand extended to help me. I take it, stepping into the cool night air, feeling every eye and camera flash on us as we make our way into the grand venue.

Tonight, the world will see Lewis for what he is—a titan of Formula 1.

And when the cameras are gone and the applause fades, he’s all mine.

______________________________________________________________

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[charliemwrites]

Part 6 of Charmed Slasher Simon!

Simon really ought to teach you not to look at him like that. Those big watery eyes and pouty lips make his teeth feel too sharp for his own mouth. He wants to sink them into you, find out if you taste as sweet as you look. He knows you would, knows it like he knows the slick heat of fresh viscera.

“What.” he demands, voice hard to keep the rasp of dark desire from it.

“I have a little favor to ask.”

He arches an eyebrow, does not believe you. Not when you’re looking at him so beseechingly. He’ll have to get you to make that face again, maybe when he’s got you on your knees, asking to suck his cock.

“Go on.”

You seem ridiculously, foolishly charmed by this stoic, unimpressed front he puts on for you. A little beam of sunshine refracting off of a black mirror. Wonders sometimes what cruel maker built you so unintentionally self-destructive.

“There’s this work trip coming up…”

He has to cross his arms to keep himself from snatching you up and locking you in the bedroom. Mistaking the gesture, you hurry to continue.

“And I have to go, but! We’re allowed to bring plus ones.”

Satisfaction curls warm in his gut, a purring predator cat. He wants to hear you ask, though.

“I’m not hearing the favor.”

“Riley….” you complain, face adorably embarrassed.

“I’m waiting, luv.”

You damn near stomp your little foot at him. “Will you please come as my plus one?”

He arches his eyebrows. “That’s a big ask.”

You could ask for the stars and moon and he’d make them bleed for you. Paint the sky crimson and make a necklace of the heavens to collar you in.

“I know and I understand if you don’t want to - but… but that coworker you met, Brandon? He’s going too, and he’s been looking at me weird all week. Please, Ri? I-I don’t want to go by myself and you make me feel safe.”

Oh it was a sure thing that he’d be going with you, but now there’s no question. He’s so glad for the video cameras; he going to milk himself dry tonight listening to you say please like that. Admitting that he makes you feel safe. His poor, stupid, fragile thing. It’s a good thing he found you.

“Alright, alright,” he soothes. “No waterworks now. I’ll go with you.”

Like a switch, you light up and throw yourself into his chest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you trill. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, I promise.”

He snorts. You’ve done him the favor by giving him an excuse to follow you - but he’s not about to correct you.

“You let me worry about that. Just send me the details and I’ll be there.”

—

Your job has rented out a ski lodge for this little trip. Not only is it secluded, the booking is for the middle of the week. There will be few, if any, people over than instructors and your coworkers.

He couldn’t plan it better.

The day is spent pretending to care about your coworkers’ names and babysitting you along the slopes. You nearly crack your head open twice, each time he scoops you up, frowning down at your giggly face.

You also nail him in the head with a snowball too. That. That’s he’s going to get revenge for.

When night falls, you squeeze his hand at the door to your room. He leans his palm against the door over your head, relishes in the way you fluster as you tilt your head to look at him.

“Thank you for coming, Riley,” you murmurs. “You’ve made this really fun.”

He lets himself smile at you, just a bit. Knows it’s lopsided and probably a little too sharp, should raise alarm bells in your pretty little head, but you only smile back at him.

“Mm, you’ll have to make it up to me. Doin’ you this big favor ‘n all.”

You laugh. “Yeah? Let me know when you want your pound of flesh.”

Oh he’ll be taking more than a pound.

“Better be ready when I come to collect.”

“Ooh, so scary!” you tease, sticking your tongue out.

“You’ve no idea.”

—

A storm hits that night. A wicked, frigid thing that brews up and boils over in a matter of hours. Whiteout conditions. The power goes out a quarter past 11.

Well, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s time for Simon to have his.

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Masterlist

[bloodibambiidoll]

So this is a bit of a continuation of this blurb bc I decided that I’m going to make a little AU based on weird girl reader. Rafe calls you “batty” or “bats” and you’re so beautiful, like an angel, but there’s just something a little off about you. You’re always asking Rafe weird, borderline morbid questions out of nowhere and sometimes you look at him like you’re going to rip his throat open and drink his blood. But he still loves you more than anything!! No warnings really, just weird girl being weird girl but still 18+MNDI!!

“Hey Rafe, Rafey wake up…” You shake his shoulder and when that doesn’t work you resort to tapping his cheek with the pad of your finger. “Raaafe”

“Baby? The fuck you waking me up for?” Rafe stirs, his eyes squinting as they adjust to the dark room. He practically jumps when he turns his head to see you sitting over with wide eyes as you play with the ends of your hair, a borderline wicked smile plastered in your face. “Oh hell no, you’re not about to ask me some weird ass shit in the middle of the night. Go to bed.”

“But, I wasn’t even going to ask you a question. Well maybe it’s kind of a question.” You push your bottom lip out into a pout and he groans, knowing you won’t let him go back to sleep until you get whatever it is off your chest.

“Fine. What is it?” Rafe raises an eyebrow at you expectantly and you practically sigh in relief.

“I was really just wondering if you died would you leave me your heart? Like, in your will you could put that so before they cremate or bury you, speaking of, what do want done with your body when you die?” The tension leaves your body as you sigh and continue to give him that unabashed wide eyed stare. “Anyways, basically what I’m asking is that if you died before me would you make sure they give me your heart?

“Jesus Christ, bats, you really woke me up to ask me that?” Rafe groans and runs his hands down his face.

“I mean, yeah. I was having a hard time sleeping and I was just thinking about how if you died I’d want a physical piece of you, is all.” Your eyes drop as play with the hem of your little nightgown and Rafe can tell you’re about to get upset so he leans up on his elbow so he can gently grip onto your chin, tilting your face so you’re looking at him again.

“Baby doll, if that’s what you really want then yeah, you can have my heart. You already do anyways.” You let out a squeal before a fit of giggles takes over. You launch yourself at Rafe, wrapping your arms around his neck and causing him to fall flat on the bed again with you on top of him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you daddy.” You nuzzle into his neck, running your nose along the smooth skin before sinking your teeth into it.

“Alright, alright, you got your answer. Now let’s go back to fuckin’ sleep.” Rafe’s hand grips onto the back of your head, he smooths your hair down and places a kiss on your forehead. He wraps one arm around your waist to maneuver you onto your side with your head on his chest. “I love you, lil’ weirdo.”

“I love you too, daddy.” You hum as you nuzzle your cheek against his chest, drifting off within minutes.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。NUMBER — SHIDOU RYUSEI.

✩ — contents ⋮ barista! reader, fluff, very annoying yet very sweet boyfriend shidou agenda <3 he’s so romantic in the most vein popping way <3

shidou loves to bother you at work, it must be his favorite pastime, you think—except now it’s starting to get everyone else at work invested too.

“oh. my. gosh,” you coworker whispers, swatting your arm excitedly, “there’s a guy asking for you—says you made his drink last time.”

“i make a lot of guys drinks,” you shrug.

“yeah but not for guys this cute,” she huffs, “i’m jealous. this is your chance, so don’t ruin it! maybe he’s good in bed too,” she wriggles her brows at you, making you scowl as you roll your eyes.

and then you see it—that mop of blonde hair with those pink ends, and you sigh in exasperation as you walk up to the register.

of course, it’s him.

“hello sir, what can i get for you?” you say monotonously.

“hmm,” shidou grins, tapping his chin as if he’s deeply in thought, “i was just thinking i’d get a drink from a pretty little barista. maybe even a number.”

from the distance, you can see your coworkers stop whatever they’re doing to stare—it’s not like it’s every day that someone this attractive comes in to flirt with a fellow employee. you can just about make out the jealousy in some of their faces and amusement in the others. one thing they all have in common, however, is awe—which you’re not too shocked at, shidou’s admittedly a handsome guy….if you look past how obnoxious he can be, that is.

“what drink would you like?”

“any is fine with me as long as i can get your number as an add on,” he grins, and it’s a wicked grin, really. it’s wide and smug and almost makes him look psychotic. you purse your lips as you shake your head, and distantly, you can hear your earlier coworker groan at your lack of enthusiasm for what you’re sure she’ll later go on to describe as the luckiest experience you’ll ever get.

“that’s not an option we carry here,” you squint, “you must be getting our menu confused for another coffee shop. maybe you should look somewhere else.”

“i don’t know,” he smirks, “i don’t think i’d confuse a pretty face like yours so easily.”

if anyone were to tell you, they’d say shidou ryusei is insufferable. you come to learn this is very true with every possible encounter you have with him, including this one. but there’s something a bit endearing about him, something that’s…dare you say, adorable, despite the way his words are sometimes crass and far from proper. and if the way he’s so persistent for your attention is of any proof, you’d say he’s a pretty determined guy—but you like to see how long you can keep him on his toes.

“i’m sure you say that to all the pretty faces you come across,” you say sarcastically, eyeing him as his smile widens and his eyes glint with amusement.

“nope,” he pops the p as he speaks, “you’re the only one. why, you jealous?”

“you wish,” you snort. “and i can’t give you my number, actually,” you say—and this time, it’s you with a smug grin, catching the eyes of your coworkers as they tilt their heads in confusion, “i have a boyfriend. so i’m afraid it’s simply not possible.”

“oh?” shidou drawls with a raise of his brow, “i bet he’s a loser. bet i could take him in a fight easily. if i win against him, you gotta let me move in with you—how ‘bout that?”

“he is a bit of a loser,” you grin, and anyone could make out the fondness seeping into your voice as your eyes soften at the idea of whoever’s got your heart. “but he’s my loser, so i’m afraid the answers still no.”

“sounds like you love him,” he presses, eyeing you expectantly.

“i don’t know about that one,” you giggle, “he’s still got to prove himself a bit more.”

“that’s harsh,” he hums, “maybe if you gave me your number, i’d prove to be better.”

“sorry, no can do—”

“just give him your number, already!” your coworker cuts you off and huffs, stomping her way over to where you stand. shidou’s got a cheshire grin on his face, eyeing her with that same look of amusement that makes you pinch your nose as you sigh. “you and i both know good and well you don’t have a boyfriend so do yourself a favor and just—”

“and how can you be so sure there’s no boyfriend?” shidou raises his brow.

you try, you really do—but you can’t help but finally crack. it’s a small giggle at first, and then it’s a fit of laughter that makes his eyes soften and his lips quirk into a lopsided beam that’s nothing short of lovesick.

“if you do seem to think there’s a boyfriend in the equation, why pursue someone then?” you coworker raises a brow, arms crossed as she challenges him, “that makes you a jackass, don’t you think?”

“easy,” shidou cackles, leaning in and pressing one, two, three soft pecks to your lips, making everyone gasp as you roll your eyes affectionately, “i’m the boyfriend. sometimes i like to keep the romance alive and fight myself every once in a while.”

“wha—” she’s left speechless, staring at him as she tries to comprehend what he’s just said with her mouth hung. shidou only mocks her opened mouth, and you reach over and swat his shoulder, making him snicker.

“that’s enough, ryu,” you warn—though you don’t sound all that serious. “i’ll be off in ten. are you gonna order anything or just stand there?”

“aw, c’mon baby. ‘course i am,” he pulls out his card, handing it to you, “i’ll take your favorite. you keep it though,” he winks.

“god you’re so annoying,” you mumble, but still, you don’t pull away when he leans for another peck on the lips, even as your coworkers chant a chorus of get a room from the back.

“see you in ten, baby,” he calls over his shoulder, walking off to find himself a seat as he waits for you.

yeah, you think, your coworkers are really going to be invested in this one.

he’s like…so very sweet and in love but in a very annoying and odd way. like he’d vandalize a building to spray paint your initials together in a heart or something

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hi! Do you think you could write fem!reader with poly!marauders and their first time having sex? If I’m making you uncomfortable let me know and I’ll apologize. Sorry if I sound weird I’m autistic and don’t know how to phrase things sometimes. Thank you.

hi hunny! you didn't make me uncomfortable at all and you worded this great! thank you for requesting!! fem!reader x poly!marauders

cw: explicit smut, slight d/s dynamic, swearing, everything is consensual obviously

1.7k words

The fact that you were the only one breathing heavily was a crime. It was pathetic, really. You felt borderline depraved, considering the innocence of the situation. Your head was in Sirius’ lap, his fingers nothing short of magical against your scalp. You could feel the slight vibration of his voice every time he spoke. Remus’ hand was lazily rubbing your bare thigh, occasionally dipping his fingers under the hem of your shorts, and you were praying that he couldn’t feel the growing heat in dangerous proximity to his hands. James was looking unfairly gorgeous for someone winding down for the night. He was fresh from the shower, his clean scent wafting over to you on the bed as he styled his hair in the mirror. 

You were tightly wound from months of tension. While there had been no shortage of heat-stoking intimacy and dizzying kisses leaving you whiny and breathy, it had always stopped of anything that would actually satisfy the growing beast in your core. And while you hoped you were successfully hiding how much it affected you, part of you wished they would notice it. You closed your eyes, taking a shaky breath. The boyish laughter in the background was not helping with your growing affliction. 

“Angel?” James chuckled, damp hair falling in front of his eyes. 

“Yeah?” You turned your head in Sirius’ lap. 

“We’ve been trying to get your attention, lovely.” James crawled on top of you, muscles shifting intricately under his white tank. You noticed how he was careful not to pile too much weight onto Sirius. He slid down, laying his head on your stomach and wrapped an arm around Remus, making the tall boy begrudgingly put his book down. 

“Oh, sorry. I was distracted.” You ran your hands through James’ hair. 

“Distracted?” Sirius drawled. He was trailing his fingers teasingly on your neck now. You repressed the urge to shiver. 

“Distracted.” You parroted back awkwardly. You couldn’t tell if the heat was from the amount of bodies crammed into the bed or the effect that they were having on you. James looked up at you with a playful grin. He reached a hand up to caress your cheek. His grin grew wider.

“Your face is warm, darling.” Mirth was dripping from his eyes. 

“Is it?” You swallowed hard. Sirius’ painted digits pressed into your jaw. He chuckled darkly at what he found.

“Her pulse is fucking hammering” His wicked fingers dipped under the collar of your shirt. 

“Oh,” Remus cooed, tone indicating that he didn’t feel that bad. “What’s the matter, dovey?” 

“Nothing.” You choked out, knowing that your body was completely betraying you. 

“I don’t know,” Sirius provoked. “I think it’s something. Don’t you, Prongs?” He moved to pet James’ head. 

“Oh, you’re definitely right.” James kissed your exposed collarbone. “C’mon, sweetheart. Talk to us.” 

You wanted to laugh. If they really wanted you to talk, couldn’t they make it a bit easier? You just groaned, hiding your face in Sirius’ thigh.

“No. None of that.” Remus gripped your chin to move your face, not letting you be shielded. “Use your words.” 

“You’re so mean.” You whined. 

“Aw, baby.” James cooed. “We’re just trying to help you. We can’t know what you want if you don’t tell us.” He slipped his hand under the hem of your shirt, gripping your waist lovingly. 

“You know what you’re doing.” You narrowed your eyes. You were trying to look intimidating but failing miserably. Remus turned your face towards his, capturing you in a kiss. You moaned against your will, arching your back up. All your muscles felt so tense, begging for release. Sirius kept stroking your hair. 

“Just tell us what’s wrong.” Sirius’ grin was all teeth when you looked up at him. 

“Gah.” You groaned in failure. “I don’t even know. I’m just so worked up and you’re not helping.” You pouted. 

“Aw, I’m sorry dove.” Remus clearly did not feel bad. “Want us to make it better?” 

You nodded rapidly, eyes wide. Remus cocked an eyebrow at you. “Yes, please. Make it better.” You all but begged. 

“Alright, baby dove.” Remus laughed. "We'll be nice." He kissed you again, moving over your cheeks and neck. James was kissing your chest, tugging the collar of your shirt down to expose more skin. You struggled to hold back wanton moans. 

“Can I lift this up, angel?” James tugged at your shirt, looking pointedly at your nipples peaking through your shirt. 

“Yes please.” 

He tugged you away from Sirius and Remus, though the boys didn’t complain. Sirius was tugging Remus up by his mousy hair to kiss him aggressively, while James lifted your shirt to your collarbone, exposing your chest to his ministrations. He grabbed at your breast with one hand, kissing over your nipple until you were dizzy. He then moved down, kissing lower and lower. 

“Christ, just get this shit off.” Sirius growled at you. He impatiently moved you to sit up, tugging your shirt off the rest of the way. “You too, Prongs.” 

His eyebrows flew up behind his glasses. “Someone’s demanding today.” He complied though, pulling his white undershirt off and flinging it somewhere across the room. Sirius just narrowed his eyes at James and tried to pull Remus back. 

“The two of you.” Remus shook his head disapprovingly but you could see the affection swirling in his irises. “Do I have to tell you what to do with your mouths?”

“I think I know exactly what to do with my mouth.” Sirius sassed, moving down to Remus' neck.

“I know what I want to do with my mouth.” James tugged at your shorts, looking up at you with huge pupils. You choked back a moan. 

“Is that okay with you, honey?” Remus asked you gently. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. Just say the word and we stop, okay?”

“I would like that.” You said, barely more than a whisper. James gave you another boyish grin and went back to kissing down your torso. 

“On second thought, I don't think I know what to do.” Sirius tested. He crawled off of the mattress, standing at the foot of the bed. He batted his lashes at Remus, clearly testing the tall boys patience. He stalked over to where Sirius was standing, looking down at him.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” He kissed him roughly before getting on his knees in front of him. Your attention was pulled back to the boy between your legs when you felt thick fingers slipping into the waistband of your shorts. 

“I’m gonna take these off, okay?” James waited for you to nod before he pulled them off. He crawled off the bed, pulling your ankles to tug you right to the end of the mattress. Your underwear was removed before he opened your legs wider. This situation was too much in the best way. James was kissing down to your waiting pussy, glasses being knocked up his nose and hair messy while you were being stared down by Sirius, who was close enough to massage your thigh while he was being sucked off, his moans ringing deliciously through your ears. 

James’ tongue met your clit, making you throw your head back in ecstasy. “Oh, shit.” You whined. He was gentle as he pleasured you, wiggling his tongue softly into your pussy, flicking up towards your swollen bead and then back down to your hole. Your thighs started to tense. You knew you were getting there embarrassingly fast, both from James’ expertise and the arousal that had been building in your body. You fought to close your legs around James' head, but he held fast, keeping you spread open for him.

“Fuck, that’s so hot.” Sirius groaned. “You should fucking see yourself, babydoll.” He knotted his fingers in Remus’ fluffy hair, rutting his hips to chase his high. “Godammit.” He grunted, cumming down Remus’ throat. You hid behind your hands to protect yourself from his voyeuristic gaze.

When Remus got up, James pulled his lips off of your clit with a lewd popping sound, making you cry out. You bucked your hips back up, chasing for more pleasure. 

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart.” James chuckled, rubbing your hip comfortingly. He slipped two fingers into your pussy, curling them up. Remus' attention was now on you as he leant over you, kissing your neck. 

“How does her pussy taste, Prongs?” Sirius drawled, petting your thigh with a blissful look in his eyes. 

“So fucking good.” James kept his fingers working a perfect motion. 

“Alright, give me a try.” Sirius pulled James up impatiently. James brought his fingers up to the shorter boy’s mouth, the same fingers that were just inside you. Without hesitation Sirius sucked them into his mouth, moaning around the digits. You whined at the spectacle in front of you. 

“Christ, lads. She’s halfway to death over here.” Remus chuckled, palming at your breast. 

“Alright.” Sirius rolled his eyes, getting on his knees in front of you. “Are you gonna let me have a turn, sweet girl?” He pinched your side affectionately. 

“Yes please.” You moaned. 

Sirius laughed at you, pressing his face into your cunt. You almost screamed in ecstasy. He wasted no time with teasing, licking into you with vigorous hunger as his gray eyes bore into you. Remus and James moved to hold your legs apart, spreading you open completely before Sirius. “Fuck, such a sweet little pussy.” He groaned, before returning to his work. 

“That’s a good boy.” Remus groaned, putting his hand on the back of Sirius’ head to push him further into your cunt. “Y’ making her feel so good.” Sirius moaned into your pussy, doubling down. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Your thighs shook hard, spasms flowing through your whole body. 

“That’s it, angel. Come for us.” James kissed your cheek. It didn’t take long to follow his directions, tumbling off the edge of pleasure. Your moans were shameless, slipping into incoherent whines when you got to be too sensitive. Sirius licked his fingers as he came up for air, face flushed and eyes starry. 

“Fuck, gorgeous. You’re killer.” He praised. Pleasurable embarrassment washed over you. You shut your legs, looking up at the three boys. 

“Are you okay, sweet girl?” Remus stroked your jaw, all feigned sternness void from his face. 

“I’m brain dead.” You giggled. 

“I think that’s a job well done then.” James grabbed your hand, bringing it to his mouth to adorn it with kisses. You looked between him and Remus, playful hesitancy written in your features. 

“What about you two?” You questioned. 

“You still got some steam in you?” James looked at you wide-eyed. You nodded. 

“Good, because I’m nowhere near done with you.” Remus opened your legs again.  

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

11 / 2476 words / sequel to falling into bed with impolite soft dom gaz

...

The next morning, when you wake up, there's a feeling of dread in your chest. You can't believe you did what you did last night. You can't believe who you did it with. The things you said to each other. Was it too much? Were you too much?

Gaz is already awake, laying face-up with one arm folded behind his head. He seems to be thinking about something. Not a good sign. You mentally prepare yourself. He turns toward you slowly, lifting his head so he's looking over the top of your body. "Good morning, darling."

You swallow, your gaze pulled down to his arms, his chest, his abs, and lower.

"Hi. Um." You drag a hand over your hair, sure it's messy. Sure you just look like a mess in general. "So last night..."

His smile falters. "Yeah... last night was..." He shifts until he's leaning on his elbow so that you two are looking directly at each other. "It was really good."

Your heart skips. "It was?"

"Too good," he says, a playful note creeping into his voice. "You were way too good. You might be in trouble." He smiles at you, waiting for you to meet his gaze.

Your face heats up at his smile. Oh no, oh no. "I... I think this isn't how this is supposed to go. You're supposed to awkwardly offer to make me coffee but lowkey tell me to leave."

"Nah. I think I'll keep you around for a bit. I like you." His eyes are a little soft and a little wicked as he says it. "The way you were so eager to, to..." His voice trails off. He clears his throat and leans slightly away from you. "You're a... unique breed of woman."

You try and fail not to squirm under his gaze. "You brought out some things in me last night. I said a lot of things."

"Yeah, you really did. I don't think I've ever heard anything like it, to be honest. Made me feel like a king." There's a pause. Neither of you say anything. He's watching you, his eyes raking over every inch of your body. "You're my kind of woman."

Your heart beats even faster, and you have to look away as your cheeks go pink. You bury your face back into your (his) pillow with a groan. "Just tell me to leave. Please. At least then I know what to do."

He looks surprised, his voice growing gentle again. "Why would you feel better if I told you to leave?"

You smush your face more firmly into the pillow. "Cause... then I feel like you're being honest about it instead of being polite."

"Ah, I see. So I shouldn't be polite to you?" He leans a little closer to you. "Do you want me to be brutally honest, then?"

You peek at him and nod, face still red.

His look softens. He leans himself over you so that you have to look directly into his eyes. "I'll drag you back in the moment you try to leave."

You stare at him, struck dumb. He has no idea how dangerous he is. That smile, those muscles, that voice, and that personality... Christ.

You sigh into the pillow, feeling hot and fluttery and weak. "You promise?" you croak.

"I promise." His eyes flicker down to your lips, and he leans a little closer still, his voice low and husky. "I promise to ruin you. And if you don't listen, I'll tie you up again to make sure you stay put."

The way he says it... his voice dips into the same commanding tone it did last night, and your body responds immediately. You squeeze your thighs together under the covers. Another wave of heat passes over you, dizzying. "I... see."

"I'm glad you understand. And do you agree?"

"I, ah... if that's not too much. If I'm not too much."

"Are you too much for me? Is that what you're saying?"

You look away. "Sometimes I get carried away about everything and I've been told it's too much."

"Are you telling me I'm not man enough to handle you?"

"No!" you squeak. "You're man enough! Please handle me."

"Then don't ever tell me your needs are too much for me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," you say quickly.

"Good girl." He smirks. "I'll never let you forget that it's my duty to give you exactly what you need." His voice drops again, barely above a whisper. "I'm not planning on letting you leave, and that's all there is to it. Do you have any issues with that?"

You practically swoon. "None, sir."

"Good, good." His voice softens again, fraying into a tease. "That means you're all mine, then. I own every inch of you until you say otherwise."

"Until I say?" you ask.

"Until you safe-word," he says. "Any hint that you want me to stop, and I will. Until then, you're all mine."

"I don't really know how that works," you admit. "I've never had a safe word before."

"It's whatever word you pick. If you say it, I'll stop whatever I'm doing and check in. It's basically a hard stop."

"Stupid question, but, um, why would I ever want you to stop?"

He grins in pure, debauched amusement, his chest momentarily swelling with pride at himself for making you say that. Then he collects himself. "Sometimes these things can hurt and you might want them to stop. Some people might get tired and need a break. You don't have to say it unless you really want to. But you do have to remember it," he adds, voice playfully stern.

You grip your pillow for a moment as memories from last night distract you. "Whatever you want it to be, I guess?"

"Then here's what it's going to be," he says in a firm tone. He's still close to you, leaning on his elbow so his face is right next to yours. "We're going proper old-school with yours. Your safe word will be 'red'. So if you tell me 'red,' I'll instantly stop whatever I'm doing and check on you. Fair?"

"Yes," you say immediately. At his amused look, you flush and scramble to repeat it. "The safe word is red. I don't have to use it, but I can if I need you to check in. Got it."

“Good girl.” He says, the amusement still in his voice. “It’s your responsibility to make sure you know it properly. Remember it. Can you repeat it one more time, just so I know you remember?”

"Red." You already get a little shot of dopamine just from doing what he asks.

He can't help but smile, which he makes no effort to hide. “Good girl.” His nose is almost touching yours as he says it, and he looks very close to kissing you. His voice is low. "I want you to forget this whole act of srhinking yourself down and pretending you don't have needs," he purrs, "and just let yourself have what I want to give you. No more playing it cool with me. Okay, sweetheart?"

A little bit of embarrassment picks at you. "Oh, um, was I being cool? Could you tell?"

“You're not fooling me, darling. I can see straight through that little front you put up. You’re not going to get anywhere by trying to make me think you're too demure to have impure thoughts.” At your abashed look, he smirks. "Just embrace your natural state, yeah?"

"My natural state being...?" You know you're fishing here, but you can't help it.

"A sweet, needy little submissive who wants to be taken care of." His smirk grows ever wider as  he continues. "Who needs me to pick her up and throw her into bed, hold her down, and have my way with her. You can enjoy that. It's only the two of us here, darling."

You practically melt into the bed at his words. "You don't think that's unfair? If you're doing all the work and I'm just... enjoying it? What could you possibly be getting out of it?"

"Control." His voice is still that low, quiet murmur, and he's still so close to you. "The control you give me by being so completely and utterly vulnerable and exposed. You have no idea how many men would kill to..." He takes a deep breath.

"Control? That's it? It just seems like it would be a lot of work to me."

His expression softens. "I live in a world where everything is chaotic and unpredictable, and it's my job to put order to chaos. I want to keep people safe. So when I see someone like you, all powerless and eager to depend on me, it's... validating." He chuckles, letting his knuckle ghost up your thigh. "You need me. It makes me feel like I'm providing you with something you can't get anywhere else. And I get to enjoy your body."

"Oh."

"Last night was really something. Had you ever done that before?"

You look away from him, shaking your head. "I've never been with a man who encouraged me like that. My last boyfriend just told me to tone it down all the time. He wanted me to act more confident. Like a pörnstar, I guess."

"But that didn't make you more confident, did it? Just made you self-conscious."

"I guess so."

“I want the opposite. I want you to become completely comfortable acting and sounding every bit as submissive and needy as you are, deep down. I very much enjoy that part of you. Do you understand?”

"I'll try. If you promise not to resent me."

“The only thing I’ll resent is if you don’t fully let yourself go and let me have power over you. When I give you instructions, you’re not expected to stop and ask why. The answer is that I’m in charge, and you need to trust me to take care of you. I know it's a bit selfish, but that's what I'm asking of you."

"You think you're being selfish?" You blink at him in surprise. "I thought you were giving me permission to be selfish. You're just making me feel good all the time. How is that you being selfish?"

He pauses for a moment like he's reconsidering things from your perspective. "I might be doing things that make you feel good, but it's about my needs, too. I might be taking care of you, but in return I get your complete attention. To the point of obedience. You depend on me to take care of you. When you're willing to submit to me because you need me to satisfy you... it's addicting. Would you do that for me?”

"Yes," you say immediately. "God. Yes. That sounds like a dream."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

He leans closer again, looking as if he's about to kiss you. Instead, he gives you a small, teasing smile. "I certainly wouldn't mind hearing you call me sir in that sweet voice all the time. Anytime, anywhere."

"You mean, like, other than in bed?" you ask.

"Everywhere. At all times," he says, eyes molten.

"You mean you want to hang out together? Not just here?"

"Of course. This isn't going to be a one-time thing, is it? I've been wanting to have you. Now that I've got you, you're mine forever." He kisses your nose sweetly. "So I'd like it if you acted this attentive in public, too. Selfish of me. But you can just be my little girlfriend while we're out and about instead if you don't want to go that far."

"Your girlfriend?" That dizzy feeling comes over you again. "I am? In a real way, or?"

"A real way," he says softly. "Are you okay with that?"

A new wave of butterflies sweeps through you. You fall back into the pillow, feeling like you might pass out for real this time. "Yes."

"You don't realize just how adorable you are when you get flustered." He smirks down at you. His hand drifts down your arm and rests over your knuckles.  "You really have no clue, darling."

You shiver at his light touch. "As long as you think so."

"I know so. If you're gonna keep dismissing my compliments, I might have to do something about it."

You lean up to him immediately, eyes bright as you put your lips next to his and wait, hoping for a kiss.

His smirk grows even wider. "You're a quick learner. You should do that whenever you want my attention, by the way."

"Do what?"

"Look so eager to please me."

Your toes curl. "Yes, sir."

"Good girl." He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "You know what would make you even cuter?"

"What?"

His voice is playful as he whispers back. "If you just begged, I'd be even more pleased. If you could just give a little push and beg me to take you, that would make for a very pretty picture."

You jump at the chance, your brain already half-empty. "Could you take me again? Please? Right now?"

Your words send a jolt through his system more powerful than anticipated. "You little tease. Get on your back for me. I'll take you just like you want."

You fall onto your back immediately and open your legs, staring up at him, shifting and scooting down for him as he hovers over you.

His eyes narrow as he leans back and looks you over, taking in every detail. Your cute, blushing face, your eager expression, and that submissive sparkle in your eyes. He wants you so badly.

“Should I beg like this?” you ask.

He swallows, staring down at you. "Be careful talking like that, love.”

“Why? I’m yours, aren’t I? You told me not to hold back.”

“I’m starting to worry I’ll never recover from this, to be honest. How am I supposed to maintain any sense of humility or decency around you?”

"So the more I boost your ego, the more you want me?"

"Absolutely. And a woman like you... you make me feel like a king. This is nothing but trouble."

"I can make you worse," you say instantly. "I can give you a god complex. If, um, you want me to."

His eyes darken with hunger, pupils blown out. "You catch on too quick. You know I'm not letting you out of this bed until you make good on your word."

"Yessir," you squeak.

"You are a dangerous little minx."

You bite your lip through your smile when you see how your offer affects him. "But I'm your dangerous little minx, right?"

"That you are." His voice is a low, sensual rumble. His hands slide over your palms, pinning them to the mattress, and his fingers thread through yours. "Mine and only mine."

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can I please request Astarion with a flirty yet oblivious plus size Tav? In the way that they do flirt because it's fun and light like their companions/friends with benefits thing, but they think that their feelings are unrequited (because of some slight insecurity about their size) until Astarion is like I actually like you and Tav is like '???' (Idk if that makes sense lol) Thank you!

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“So, Astarion, what is your actual type?”

“My ‘type’,” Astarion repeated at Shadowheart’s question as they traveled, “is such a broad prevue. I can’t think to narrow it down to just a single collection of words.”

“That’s a unique way to say you’re a trollop.”

Tav snickered at Shadowhearts retort, getting a stern glare from Astarion. “What? It was funny?”

“Pft. And here I was going to say you, my dear, but if you’re going to be so incredibly cruel.”

“Aw shucks. Always a bridesmaid I suppose.”

During their journey together, Tav had grown very fond of Astarion. He was a little shit, but deep down he was very funny and undeniably charming (although not for the ways he tried to be). The two of you had picked up a friendly banter over your time together, sometimes even flirty, but only that. And Tav was fine with that. Well aware that a handsome rake like Astarion could have his pick of the litter, and they were just happy to be considered a friend.

Later that night, while everyone was finishing their day and slinking off to bed, Astarion came over to Tav by the fire to sit with them. “You know I really meant it earlier by the way.”

“Meant what?” Tav asked. Lost, by this point, on what he was talking about.

“That you’re my….‘type’.” He seemed loathed to use the word. Even scrunched his nose. Tav just laughed.

“Yeah. Right. I’m sure.”

“No, really, I mean it.” He insisted.

“Come on Astarion, the only way you’d be interested in me is because I’m a a keg instead of a flagon.” Tav gestured to themselves and their full frame. “I have ample blood to spare.”

Astarion frowned. “Yes, your blood is certainly a bonus, but that isn’t why I care for you.” He huffed and crossed his arms dramatically. “Honestly, why does everyone think I’m not being serious when I am?” Astarion asked with a bit of flabbergast. “Is it something about my expression?”

Tav looked more than a bit flabbergasted at his remark. They didn’t really think they liked them….that way. Friends sure. Allies, of course. But romantically? “You…really have feelings for me?”

“Ugh! What is it with you new generation and wanting to put a name to everything?” Astarion bemoaned. “Feelings. Type. Can’t we just enjoy this for whatever…this is? All I know is that out of all the people in this whole wicked world I would want to be stuck with, it’s you.”

“Gee, that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” Tav teased.

Astarion frowned again, but then leaned in close to Tav so all they could see was his piercing red eyes. “I could wax poems for you, if you’d prefer. How your eyes are the stars. How your curves are roads I would never get tired of roaming. How your ample bosom feels like a place to call home. All true, but you’re so much more to me than that.” He moved back to sit in his original spot. Wrapping his arms around his knees at his chest as he looked into the fire. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted in…well ever. You mean more to me than just your body. Though, again, that is certainly a bonus. I had hoped….you feel the same about me.”

Tav blushed, but then quickly gathered their voice and told him, “yes! Of course.”

Astarion seemed relieved. Then leaned over to give Tav a simple, sweet peck on the cheek. “Good. Now, get some sleep. We’ll probably have a completely eventful day tomorrow as well. You’ll need your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course. I’ll keep watch until the morning.”

Tav smiled, blushed again, and then went to their bed roll. Tentative in accepting Astarion’s confession & feelings, but hopeful it was all true. Perhaps, for once, they could really be the bride instead of the bridesmaid.