#thank you for tagging me sweetling

[inkedcerulean]

an alliance in waiting | chapter one

jacaerys velaryon x fem!frey reader

summary: when jacaerys arrives to treat with the freys, forrest and sabitha frey propose a betrothal between you and him— a betrothal you are not aware of.

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of war & death

notes: i based the reader partially off of myself. (projection time!)

jace taglist: @hotdhoe @chimmysoftpaws chocotorta2027 @drvcosstuff @emilly-adopted-mcmann @charlottelaffin @suniika @princessofthereach @twilightzone24 @ghizlana @yohanseyebrowmole @fairyjuhak22 @francislovergirl @viserraslawyer @ackerman0-0

Jacaerys set down his goblet and looked at Forrest and Sabitha Frey. Negotiations of Harrenhal were set; the Freys would take the castle at the war’s end. He could not help but feel a little proud of himself, for he had improved his mother’s standing alone.

Lord Frey took a bite of his provisions. “There is one more thing.”

Jace looked at him. “What is it?”

“My Prince, you are a man grown. And word has it that you have not secured a betrothal as of yet.”

Jace knew, if only in the back of his mind, that talk would soon arise about this; he would not let future whispers begin, calling him The Heirless King or Jacaerys the Unbetrothed. His mother would be pleased with the Frey’s allyship, but this implication dove into complexities. To secure an alliance was one thing, but to have his feet in another negotiation was another. Vigilance was key.

“That is correct.”

“One of our daughters is eight and ten, two years my Prince’s senior,” Lord Frey said, then pursed his lips and looked down at his feet. “She has not secured a marriage either. After the war is won and Her Grace sits upon the throne, we would like to propose a betrothal between you and our lady daughter.”

A Frey Queen Consort… it was certainly an audacious prospect. Jace had been thankful that his mother had not pestered him about the idea of marriage yet. He had a claim to uphold, not a betrothal to secure. Or so he thought.

Jace knew that he had to choose his next steps carefully. The war was not won yet, and his family were to be dependent on the Freys’ honor until the end. If he refused, they could deny their crossing and obiscience. Looking at their faces made the decision more pressing. He knew that he could not let his reservations show. That would be a weakness.

“I will send word to my mother. I cannot guarantee that she will send her approval, but there is no need to fear the mood of her response.”

“See to it that she hears the advantage of this.”

You were glad that you were not in the midst of the war between the Hightowers and the Targaryens. The Twins was more than a shelter from the war that only suffocated you into loneliness and mundanity. This was the fate of so many ladies of the realm, to keep themselves in one place and never have the agency of motion. It was a fate you wished to resist.

“You plotted my marriage without my consent?” you spat.

“I know that you wished to get married.”

“To get married, yes, but only if the suitor is mine to choose!”

“The wedding would be in weeks of his arrival, there is plenty of time for courting.”

“Then we have a different perception of time, perhaps.”

The Prince was said to be quite comely, but great beauties are only made so by truly knowing them. He could be the most handsome young man in the seven kingdoms, but if he was not fit to be your companion for life, you would have been swept away into a life of misery. Routinely, you spent your days pacing from the West Tower to the East praying that this kind of misery would not find you. And now you feared it did.

“Sweetling, do not be angry with me. You know the difficulties of being a woman and how the lords of the realm perceive us. Having the Targaryens as an ally, and one bound in blood at that, will help us greatly. Your father and I took action at the first moment.”

Briefly, you thought of Queen Rhaenyra. You both shared a similar plight, only the irony was that her son will invoke your own even more. But it could not be denied that you had wanted a romance in your life. You had experienced the bare bones of suitors; they would smile and look at you at feasts, then their attention would be occupied with another lady.

The war had brought another tear upon your life. Your friends, the ladies Roesaynne, Leona, and Gertrude, were frequent guests at your keep, as you were at theirs.  But recently, you had been given word that their lord fathers had sequestered them within their castles. You had not seen them since. You understood the reason; dragons were fearsome creatures that may descend from the sky at any time. It was best to keep the nobles safe from that prospect. As safe as they could be, and left for misery to strike them as you suspected it did.

You fidgeted with the velvet sleeve of your dress. “What could you perceive of him?” you asked, your tone much quieter. “His character?”

“He was quite even-tempered.”

You shook your head minutely. Even an hour’s worth of conversation would not be enough. The Prince had not laid waste to the Crossing with his dragon, true, but you knew that the greatest conflicts of the Realm were from disagreements amongst the nobles. There was nothing saying that this would not be the same. And there was the obvious fact: the Prince of Dragonstone was a dragon rider. Wise as you tried to be, you feared him for this. Would your own lord father instruct you to stay inside your castle like your friends were?

There was no place for you here for much longer. One of your brothers, Gunther, three years your elder, would inherit the Crossing, and your sister would soon be married. On paper, marrying the Prince was a miracle.

The door bursted open with a loud thunk. Both you and your mother turn your heads toward it. It was your little sister, Marsella, enthusiasm ripe on her face.

“Mother! I saw him,” she giggled.

“Not now, Marsella.”

Marsella’s face was flush as spring. “I saw the Prince and Vermax, though the others were too stupid to look for him before they went away. He was—”

“Please, leave us,” your mother commanded.

Marsella’s face fell, and your eyes saddened when they found hers. She then turned and left, shoulders caving in. You would see to her afterwards.

“Where, might I ask, will the wedding take place?” Being a lady of the realm meant that you could never be comfortable anywhere. You were told by your mother’s friends not to get attached to any setting, since men, hungry for power and status, often brought in a new environment.

“At the Red Keep, as will your courting.”

“It will not,” you said.

“Do not meddle with the plans that have been so carefully forethought!” Her voice broke midway, and she clasped a hand around her mouth and turned her head to the side. “I am sorry. I have a great stress on me. What is it that you wish to be changed?”

“Not the location of the wedding, that is a logical place for it to be held,” you said. “But the courtship, please, mother, let him come here instead. if you truly want this to be a success, he must know me, and where my roots are from.” You saw the opportunity for this small agency: the Prince, learning about your home from you… you hoped that it would spark a subtle intimacy. You knew it was a foolish thought, but if the war was to be won by the rightful queen, such comfort could be afforded. Or so you hoped.

“Very well, my dear.”

[dollwrites]

ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ sᴇssɪᴏɴs ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ʀᴜɪ ᴋᴀᴍɪsʜɪʀᴏ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁��𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!fan!reader, sex work / camming, cyber sex, masturbation ( him! ), lots of dirty talk, cum shot. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act three [ camboy ]

“There’s no need to be shy, sweetling.” Rui coos. thankfully, the wifi connection is stable, and so his lilting, sugary tone isn’t robotic and unpleasant. “You can play along if you’d like.” his voice is hardly above a whisper, strained ever so slightly to keep from jumbling up his words amidst him pleasuring himself for you. sitting flat on the floor with his knees spread wide, there’s only a couple of key garments left on his body. a purple tie, neatly the same hue as his hair, that hangs loosely from his neck. when he gets close, he’ll often wrap it around his hand and tighten it, but for the moment it sags against his bare torso. his abdomen and lower half is littered with lipstick markings, some of which spell out your name in pinky lettering that’s begun to smudge the more he sweats. only one glove remains, the other discarded amongst the pile of his clothes just off camera. “After all, this is all for you.” he emphasizes the word all by allowing his gloved hand to glide down the length of his cock, and grab it at the base. gathering his balls, too, up in a package of offering, he gives the twitching organ and squeezed sack a little shake at the camera, a dusky blush dusting his cheeks as his lips curl up in a fox’s grin.

Rui always made you feel wanted. important. beautiful.

did it really matter that you paid for the privilege? a premium, even, to have these private sessions. you didn’t think so.

your cheeks are on fire, embarrassed to be watching such a display, even though you were alone in your apartment. you had paid for this show, but you still felt like you were breaking some kind of rule. maybe it was because you had no real life experience in sex, but that didn’t mean that your favorite toys didn’t get their fair share of use while you watched Rui’s streams. still, being in this moment with him alone, you noticed you were being bashful. your webcam was on, broadcasting the visage of you to him, but you were hugging a pillow, trying not to nibble on it to keep from screaming out loud when you can tell he’s looking at you. “Really…?” you whisper, toying with the pillow’s tag.

Rui giggles softly, golden eyes roving over the screen, before he gave a little nod, his bare hand moving to stroke his cock. a soft exhale, and he leans back against the wall. “But of course. Come now, show me what you’re hiding under those cute pjs.” his tempo has slowed quite a bit— and Rui lazily pumps at his dick, eyes heavily lidded, as if he were trying to stave off any pleasure right until he was ready for it. you couldn’t help but want to show off for him when he looked at you like that, blushing and all, so you sat up on your bed. allowing the pillow to fall by the wayside, you sheepishly slip your fingers beneath the spaghetti strap on one shoulder, shimmying it down until the neckline droops and reveals one of your mounds. Rui’s eyes seem to sparkle with interest, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows back saliva. “That’s it, pretty little thing…” the way he looked so sordid and lustful whilst staring at you like that made your hands shake an awful lot— an obvious tremble that he must’ve chose not to comment on to keep your timidity at bay. “Show me some more.”

if you’d not been gagged by your own sheepish nature, you might’ve asked him who here is supposed to be putting on a show for whom. but, in this moment, your brain was short circuiting, and you were simply following directions, like a little puppet whose strings he had taut in his fingers. you push the top all the way down around your waist, baring both breasts. watching him jerk off had left your nipples hard, and the coolness of the air hitting them only tightens them further. “You look so soft,” Rui moans, and his gloved hand slides underneath his thigh to adjust his position, his eyes focused on your tits on the screen. “I bet you’d make some cute sounds if I punched those pretty nipples, wouldn’t you? You’d whine and squirm for me.”

your eyelids nearly flutter as the fantasy of having Rui within arm’s reach invades your psyche. imagining his svelte hands all over you. groping. squeezing. feeling. you shudder, and your panties dampen even further.

Rui catches a glimpse of that reaction, and his simper widens. “Look how precious you are, getting so flustered. Is your little cunny wet for me, sweetling?” you have no choice but to nod, shifting on your knees to rub your thighs together in order to form some sort of friction to ease your throbbing sex. “Take off your panties,” it wasn’t a demand, not from his sweet lips. it was more of a plea, the rhythm at which his cock barrels through his spit-slicked hand picking up. his breath was starting to come in heavier puffs, ripples forming through the meat of his thighs as they try not to shake. “I want to see how a pretty pussy drools for me.”

you’re moving before he’s even finished talking, sliding back to sit on your butt on the bed, your position matching his as you pull your panties down and spread your legs open. there’s a pit gnawing in your stomach, but your first two fingers reach down to open your netherlips, exposing your twitching, weeping hole. Rui’s breath catches when he sees all of you, and the sticky, shiny mess you’ve left on your thighs. for a moment, his back arches off the wall, and he lets out a low moan, his golden eyes focused only on your sex. “That’s a sweet, little honeypot, no? So tight and warm, uh…” Rui elicits another slow, drawn out moan, pumping himself faster and more fervently. “I’m so hard, sweetling.” Rui confesses with a husky chuckle, squeezing the swollen shaft before he thumbs his pink tip. “I want to feel your soft, warm pussy stretch around me as I push my cock into you, hear you gasp when you’re full, ahh—“ Rui can’t help but giggle again, but it’s more of a garbled mess this time. his bare feet that had previously been flat on the floor now rub on their sides, his toes curling and half obstructing the camera as he starts to pant and drop his head back against the wall, losing himself in his own, desperate fucking his hand. “— Rub your tender clit when I make you my perfect, wet little cocksleeve. Yes, yes, yes…!”

“I want to feel your cock in me, Rui—!” you stammer, overcome with excitement just from watching him. your entire body tingled, and you wanted so badly to touch yourself, but you were so distracted by his tells. the way his toes curled, and his hips bucked forward to meet his eager jerking, and his amber eyes rolling around behind his lids. you knew he had to be close. and right now, the only thing that mattered was seeing him cum for you. “I want to be fucked, like your good, little sleeve! Please, cum, Rui. Please, I want it so bad.”

you didn’t have to ask twice.

Rui erupts with a breathless whine, his body writhing off the wall and floor, as if he were trying to escape the intense sensation of his orgasm, before hot, white streamers of his release splatter the floor between his quaking legs, leaving a sticky puddle. your eyes flit to it, wishing you’d be there to clean up the mess with your tongue, and taste him. Rui pants and ruts, milking his twitching cock, squeezing until the last of his spunk oozes down his shaft, frosting his hand and his balls underneath. several moments pass where you just simply stare at the display, even after he’s let go, and his soft cock, still gleaming and painted white, lay across his thigh, and you listen to his breathing start to slow down.

with your sheepish nature returning, you grab the pillow, hugging it again with a shy smile, covering your naked body. “Thank you for calling with me… again…” you offer, nibbling on your lip.

but Rui is smiling. it’s a breathless, exhausted smile, as he pushes himself back into a sitting position, leaning close to the webcam. “You’re very welcome, sweetling. Same time next week?”

on pay day, of course.

[peggyao3]

Pt. 29 - Branding

A/N: Don't know why, but writing this one felt like pulling teeth 😭 Hope it came out okie nonetheless.

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, FMC described as soft/squishy, dubious relationship status, dark-ish, pain kink

WORD COUNT: 430

Even if they aren't married.

Even if they never will be.

The mark she bears leaves no doubt that all she will ever be is his.

She won't be able to spread her legs for any other man without flaunting the Harkonnen sigil that has been burned into the soft, vulnerable meat of her inner thigh.

The nobleman from Caladan hadn't really meant to poach her away from the Harkonnen court! It was banter, nothing more, nothing less. Although the idea of breathing crisp coastal air and falling asleep to rustling pines was a beguiling one.

The silly daydream had slipped indefinitely out of reach when the branding iron kissed her flesh, leaving her panting, heaving and sobbing in pain.

Feyd-Rautha is a horribly, horribly jealous man. He won't even share the brief, fond twinkle of a daydream in her eyes with another man.

For days she has been bedbound, unable to walk with the meat of her thighs rubbing together with each step.

"Still sulking with me, sweetling?" Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen prowls around her bed like a cat around a bowl of milk.

"Perhaps I wouldn't be, if you hadn't denied me the healing salve."

"But how else will it scar prettily, hm? Let me see."

"Come closer and I'll kick you in the face."

That has his chest swelling with a purr and she knows she should have known better than to provoke him while she can't even close her thighs.

"Leave me alone. You don't own me."

"Yes, I do."

"You've treated me like cattle. I will never forgive you for this," she spits and pulls the duvet tight around her body.

"Oh, but you will," Feyd-Rautha drawls, calloused tips of his fingers sliding under her cover, finding her ankle and calf. "You'll be touching the sweet, little mark I gave you and be grateful for it. You'll touch it and then sink your little fingers in your cunt and think of me.

"Why would I ever do tha-at?" She yelps when Feyd's hand cups the soft meat of her thigh, thumb brushing against the slender spike at the bottom of the scarring Harkonnen crest.

"Because you've been waiting for my ring, sweetling." He laughs at her perplexed expression and traces the rounded middle part of the throbbing mark with featherlight touch. "You want my token of ownership and I gave it to you." Softly, his fingers trail up to the very apex of her thighs where her flesh is flooded with soft, slick heat from just a minute of demeaning caress. "And now," Feyd Rautha purrs. "You will say thank you."

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

I keep going to the river to pray

Written for the March pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: spring

Rated: M

Tags: Italian Steve Harrington; naiad Eddie Munson; past lives

CW: child molestation (not from MC); nudity; fade to black sex

Notes: Moooom, hype is turning the blorbos into water creatures again!

Steve is five years old and the water whispers to him. 

“Steven, come back inside,” Mom scolds and yanks sharply on his hand. “Nonna told you the woods are off limits. The water is too dangerous. Heavens, I can't leave you alone for two seconds, can I?” 

Steve wants to cry. To thrash and kick and scream at the injustice of it all.

Because she is leaving him alone. All alone in this strange country where there's nothing fun to do and where nobody speaks his language, for an entire summer. How's he even supposed to listen to Nonna when he doesn’t understand her half the time? 

The only place where he finds comfort is the spring. The little pond with its crystal waters surrounded by crumpled pillars. He doesn’t know why, just knows there's something here that calls to him. 

Mom doesn't understand, and Steve is too small to fight as she drags him away. Something splashes behind them, like a large stone sinking underwater, but by the time he turns, all he can see is ripples on the surface. 

He doesn’t know why he says it, because there's nobody here. Nobody he can see. It feels like the right thing to do, though. 

“Don't worry,” he whispers to the water. “I'll be back, promise.” 

The water whispers back. 

*

Steve is thirteen and a man follows him into the woods. He's been lurking in corners and doorways in the village all day, smiling, staring, speaking saccharine words in broken English. 

Pretty boy, sweet boy, come here. 

By the time Steve notices he's trailing behind him on the lonely road in the fading daylight, it's too late to cry for help. He ducks into the shelter of the trees without thinking, not looking back when he hears the man give chase. Darkness is falling around him, but he doesn’t need to see. 

All he needs to do is follow the pull. 

The spring reflects the moon and stars, silver waves bouncing off the trees and pillars. 

“Help me,” Steve whispers, just as a hand grabs his wrist and spins him around. 

The man's face is a mask of primal hunger. His eyes glint, dark and unblinking- 

-and then they catch on something behind Steve's back and bulge. All the color drains from his face. He stumbles back, releasing Steve’s wrist, muttering a word in Italian that he doesn’t understand. Then, he turns and runs. 

Steve stares after him, heartbeat roaring in his ears. By the time he remembers to look behind him, there's nobody there. The spring lies silent in the starlight, but the water isn't smooth anymore. A circle of ripples is spreading, not far from where he's standing, waves lapping against the shore. Steve imagines he sees something slipping out of sight in the water, like dark tendrils of seaweed. Then he blinks and it's gone. 

Steve smiles.

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly. 

*

The water murmurs back. 

Steve is eighteen and everything is bullshit. He perches on a fallen pillar, toes dangling in the water, watching the sunset behind the trees, and feels sorry for himself. 

He can't protect his heart from being broken, can't get into college, can't even get his parents to love him. They probably believe they're punishing him by sending him back here, he thinks with a laugh. Idiots. They know nothing about him, nothing about the pull he feels towards this place. He's been feeling it more and more lately, even with an entire ocean between them. 

“Have you finally come to stay, sweetling?” 

Steve doesn’t startle. Simply blinks back from his thoughts and lowers his gaze, like it's always been the two of them out here. Maybe that’s true. 

“You're not scared,” the boy from the spring observes. His head is poking out of the water between Steve’s legs, long dark hair brushing his ankles. He's naked under the water, skin pale and smooth as marble. “Do you not fear me?” 

“Why would I? You've never given me reason to.” 

The language that slips from his lips is strange. Not English. Something closer to the butchered Italian he's picked up over the years. He frowns, briefly, but the boy's lips - pink and full and glistening with tiny droplets - curl into a smile and he forgets to wonder about it.

“Clever child.” Long fingers curl around Steve's calves, sliding up his legs. “I'd never harm what's mine.” 

The fingers slip under the hem of Steve's shorts, gracing his inner thigh, and he gasps. 

“Yours?” 

The boy hums, pulling himself from the water a little, so that his shoulders emerge. His hair is a dark, tangled halo around his pretty face. It tickles Steve’s skin as the boy noses along the inside of his knee.

“Yes, mine. You feel it, do you not? The pull.” 

Steve nods breathlessly and the boy smiles against the soft flesh of his thigh. 

“Of course you do, sweetling. It has been forever since I met someone as responsive, but you? You remember, don't you?” 

Steve pauses. Is that what pulls him here? Memories of a time he shouldn’t recall? Of a place far more splendid than the crumbling ruins around them, a place filled with song and laughter and the strange but familiar language that keeps tumbling from his mouth? 

The boy - the god - watches the shift in his face and smiles. Nimble hands settle on his hips, pulling him closer, and Steve slings his arms around slender shoulders as the pillar slips out from under him. 

His god's eyes are bright as he walks them to the middle of the pond. 

“It has been so long, sweetling, and I hunger for worship. Will you give yourself to me again?” 

“I do not need to,” Steve smiles as he is slowly lowered into the cool waters. “You've always had me.” 

His god smiles and pulls him in, and Steve sighs against those beautiful lips. 

The water welcomes him home. 

In Roman mythology, naiads (better known under the name of their Greek counterparts, nymphs) are nature spirits most commonly associated with water, guarding rivers, springs and the like. Some were worshipped as local deities, with shrines built in their honor.

[v3nusxsky]

Tangled passion 18+

*Authors note~ Leonora’s redemption, I couldn’t stand leaving the story as long as the previous chapter took I love to hear your thoughts! Feel free to drop them in my dms or asks!*

Trigger warnings~ mommy dom Larissa, daddy/mutt/mongrel/puppy switch! Leo sub r redemption for lesso punishment for lesso edging spanking hair pulling degrading praise voyeurism semi public sex oral sex over stimulation kink fingering, revenge punishment fingering thigh riding body writting marking kink

Tag list

It appears not only are you truthful while inhibited but also sleepy. Larissa almost felt mean moving your sleeping form away from the roaring fire and into her spare bedroom, typically used for students who are struggling, before moving to ready herself for the night. Unbeknownst to you, Larissa actually found Leonora quite stunning. And if she was on the market for a brat to tame? Leonora would’ve fit. But she wanted a sweet little thing, to spoil and dote on. You fit the bill perfectly and to see you hurt by nothing more than an untrained mutt broke her heart. Larissa could definitely teach the stubborn woman a thing or two about respect. Together, you’d both put her plan in motion, after all you’d be so good for Larissa that she wouldn’t even need to try and convince you to trust her.

And she was right. “Rissa turn lights off” you grumbled seeking out the last scraps of darkness you could find as the principal opened the curtains. “But sweet girl, I have a plan to get you everything your pretty self desires. Mommy is going to fix your problem love, so up we get and we can get started sweetheart”. For a few seconds you thought you’d misheard, what did you desire? How drunk did you get last night? All it took was a small shift to sit up and the stinging on your behind had memories forcing their way back to the front of your mind. The club, Leonora, being in Larissa’s space and overly emotional. Oh gosh you’d told the older woman about how you feel. The inner debate of wanting both women but knowing you shouldn’t, yep. You’d spilled everything to her.

“I uh Rissa” you started, brain spiralling into all the ways you could explain a complex situation to someone so goddess like, “please don’t hate me.” Those four little words broke the shifters heart more than you’d ever know. “Oh sweet girl, I could never!” You felt a gentle hand wiping the tears you hadn’t realised were falling. “How about we get some breakfast and we can talk sweetheart? I think it’s time we put all our cards on the table, wouldn’t you agree?”

Another piece of information about you that Larissa adored was how easygoing you are, breakfast went down a treat, her heart swelling every time you thanked and complimented her. But now as you both moved to her desk, you immediately started to shake. The rhythmic thump of your toes tapping the floor as your leg bounced. Your shoulders seem to curl into your body and Larissa noted that you couldn’t maintain the same eye contact you had minutes ago. “Sweetheart, you know I very much wish to become your dominant?” She murmured gently not wanting to spoke you but also needing to start the dialogue which would prevent you being in an anxious state any longer than necessary.

Nodding in acceptance of her statement you let out a little hum which she took as encouragement to continue. “Well sweetling, I’ve always been an open person and I’d be lying if i said I don’t see the attraction to Leonora. While I’m wasn’t looking for a brat, I certainly can deal with them. And you my darling are my good girl aren’t you?” Her words coated in dominance had you slipping into the submissive role instantly. “Yes mommy” you whispered still not quite understanding what the blonde wanted to convey.

“Good girl” oh dear god you were dead. Definitely. Those two words ringing like heavenly bells in your ears, pulling a whimper from your throat involuntarily. “Oh, aren’t you just so precious pretty girl? Poor baby has a little praise kink” she teased evidently enjoying the blush painting your cheeks, no need for any real answer, it seems she can read you like a book. “Okay pretty dove, both of us our interested in Leonora, so you be a good girl for mommy and continue like normal, mommy will talk to Leo for us. But rest assured my love, aftercare will be always given no matter what, Leonora can’t leave my sweet girl like she did yesterday.” Her reassurance causing some of your anxiety to dissipate, leaving you still sat wanting to be closer to the woman. “If you want something dear, you’re going to need to ask mommy” she warned in a teasing manner, eyes sparking with adoration as you stuttered through asking to come and sit on her lap. “You’ve done so many times in less clothing darling, come here before you have to leave for work.”

You spent all Saturday afternoon with Larissa in Nevermore which you immensely enjoyed, just talking and getting to know what each other wanted from this dynamic, likes and dislikes to anything your minds came up with. Leaving for the club was a new kind of sadness, only made better by the blondes promise to arrive at Sinful Souls later on in the night to pick you up.

True to her word Larissa would be there to greet you after your shift at the club, but naturally she had business to attend to before seeing you. A brat to tame. That’s why the blonde shifted her appearance to get through the crowd and demand to see the owner. From there she was led into the back room where her office was. “What can I do for-“ she murmured not even bothering to look up from the paperwork she was clearly bored with. “Y/n…”

“You” the raven haired woman snarled at the principal, moving to approach the principal only to be stopped short. “I suggest Leonora, you sit down before I make you kneel down. This is my time to speak. You will listen” she demanded shifting her stance to appear taller. Truthfully Larissa Weems dripped an unmatched amount of dominance into everything she does. Something she takes pride in. “Yes teacher” was all that was quipped back, Larissa immediately stepping forward to force the other woman on her knees. “Listen up brat, this is how it’s going to go” she stated, kicking off her heels before circling the younger woman.

“You want my little dove out there? Yet you treated her so poorly last night. I can’t be having that. She deserves all the love and care in the world. I can provide that. You however are nothing more than a mongrel in comparison. Yet for some reason my girl wants you too” the blonde couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the glare coming from the clubs owner, “and well, I guess I can see the attraction. See with the right hand to guide you I’m sure you’d be a beautiful puppy for your owner. Dove isn’t capable of handling you brat. But I am so enjoy the taster of what could be in store for you. Red stops this all Lesso, let’s get started” she clapped her hands before promptly turning on her heel to walk over to the sofa.

Shock, anger and arousal was all Leonora could feel. She obeyed the older woman, truthfully she didn’t want to hurt you, guilt was eating her up so she likes to reason that’s why she submitted to the older woman. “Crawl here mutt” she murmured, beautiful cyan eyes darkening with every second her gaze was on Lesso. “Fuck you” she grumbled before going to stand up yet a firm hand immediately forced her back down. “What the fuck are you doing you bitch” she bit as the pressure continued to hold her in place. “Oh what a stupid mutt you are, not going to go down easily hmm? I do love a challenge. Again. Crawl. Here. Now.” Repeating every word slowly as she moved back to where she was, it was times like this shifting had its perks, helping her get to the other woman as quickly as possible.

As if crawling to the other woman wasn’t humiliating enough, being manhandled over her lap certainly was. Lesso was known for her tough personality and physical strength which made this act even more embarrassing. “Remember you can stop this, but a stupid stray like you needs to trained before they get to play with my toys. Thanks to my girl out there I know what you want Leo, so you’re gonna take it, all this fight doesn’t belong here.” She murmured before immediately yanking Lesso’s impossibly tight jeans from her behind, exposing her pale round globes. “These need colour” Larissa murmured thoughtfully, watching as the woman in her lap squirmed slightly in anticipation.

To Leonora’s credit, she took her 20 spanks without even creating a sound, it was the last ten that broke her down. “All done pup, now are you going to be good for me? Or shall I take you out there in front of everyone?” Larissa threatened with a knowing smile, “oh we like that do we? You want everyone to see what a pathetic mutt you are?” Teasing Leonora is definitely something Larissa is going to enjoy, she can only hope this plan works, remembering how good it felt to tame a brat. “No please” lesso whimpered causing Larissa to yank the woman up and Settle her on her thigh, “fuck yourself on my thigh like a good little slut and I’ll consider it.”

Instantly following the command the younger woman rolled her hips eagerly the other woman’s thigh, god she was desperate, the moans now falling freely from her parted lips, desperate pants of breath the only clue she was getting close to the paradise she craved. And she would’ve got there too, if Larissa didn’t wrap her strong arms around her and held her still. “Oh you aren’t coming, dumb mutt, you don’t deserve it, off now” she demanded and immediately noted that her thigh was drenched as the air hit it. “Messy girl” she tutted as lesso bowed her head in shame.

Moving to the desk was probably one of her best ideas, rolling her dress up to her hips, slipping off her ruby red underwear and spreading her legs. “Eat mutt” was all she gave the other woman before yanking her head close to her soaked core again noticing the whimper of pleasurable pain. On her knees, eating out the blonde was clearly something both parties enjoyed as Larissa climbed the hill to her peak, Lesso falling deeper into her submissive side, drunk on the taste of her pussy. “Less teeth slut” Larissa growled out just before lesso flattened her tongue and pushed the principal over the edge. Plunging her tongue in and out of her quivering hole at an almost inhuman pace to bring the woman back down from her high.

Tugging Leonora up but her tight curls the shifter tossed her over the desk like she was nothing more than a rag doll, thanking the gods for her extra strength. Using her foot to kick the woman’s legs open before thrusting a finger into her sopping sex and instantly falling into a fast pace of deep strokes, “such a needy puppy, you just needed a good fucking hmm?” To say the raven haired woman didn’t struggle would be a lie but it turns out a good four orgasms can make someone incredibly plaint. “No more fuck mommy god fucking hell!” She borderline squealed as her fifth orgasm washed over her In brutal waves. Her core now insanely sensitive, red puffy and leaking all over the floor. She barely noticed Larissa grabbing a marker off her desk and scribbling “mommys mutt” in her fancy penmanship.

After ensuring Leonora was cared for adequately, water and helped to redress was all she could help with until Lesso snapped at her and told her to fuck off. “Think about it puppy, because me and y/n are In agreement, you could have all this and more” Larissa murmured before leaving to find you just finishing up your last dance of the night.

[vintagelacerosette]

Tag game💖

Late but who's surprised 😅 Thank you sweetlings for the tag

Macy @heymacy Deanna @deedala Vey @look-i-love-u

Pie @gallapiech Michelle @michellemisfit Face @burninface

Sarah @sleepyheadgallavich Tee @mickeym4ndy

Jen @wehangout Lyle @kiinard Georgia @iansw0rld

Evie @energievie Bri @y0itsbri

Name: Myn said like main ✨️

Age: 27 & 28 on the 31st! 😮

Location: Sydnaaay

Top sheet, yes or no? What's that??

How many stuffed animals do you own? Too many to count bc my friends like to gift them to me & also anime plushies have been such a siren to my wallet 🙃

The names of your pets (and the explanations behind them): Roxy for my dog. I came up with it bc she was such a spunky lil jumping pup. 🥰 The was a kitten we cared for & dad called them Gato which is cat in spanish. My mum doesn't like cats so I wasn't able to keep them 🥲 I'm going to have cats of my own day. You can count on that 🐈‍⬛️🐈

Favourite colour: Pink 🩷🌸🎀

Any tattoos? None but I sooo want a gallavich one & fairy wings with angel numbers

How you transport your belongings (purse, tote, hands, pockets, etc.): Small pink cross body that I got in Philippines from a Japanese brand. It's lightweight but can carry a lot! I could carry a small umbrella & powerbank inside!

The last movie you watched: Knives out: Glass Onion

How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? For can't be bothered for work 10/15 minutes or if I'm serving a lewk with rainbow eyeshadow & glitters could take 30 min to an hour 🌈

Favourite weather: Sunny blue skies with some fluffy clouds. Warm with breeze.

Relationship status: Single & yearing. But to put effort in with dating apps scares me 😅

Ice cream flavour of choice: Anything with cookie dough. This ice-cream shop I go to has one called cookie monster & it's blue with cookie chunks 😋

First fandom: First one I kinda was active on was Violet x Tate from American Horror story lol

How many books have you read this year? Ummm maybe 4 & 2 I haven't finished yet lol

first 4 words of your last notes app entry: It's the names of my friends who are coming to my birthday party hehe

and finally, if you had to change your URL tomorrow, what would you change it to? I would love to something related to gallavich they own my heart & soul but I've had this blog name for such a long time out of habit. Anyone got any suggestions pls send them my way! 🫶🏼

Tagging these honey pies if they wanna play 💕 @jademickian @bekkachaos @lingy910y @mybrainismelted @svltburn @sweetbee78 @crossmydna @mickittotheman @whatwouldmickeydo @st4rrymick3y @samantitheos @ian-galagher @xninetiestrendx @sleepyfacetoughguy @spookygingerr @jrooc @stocious

[daenysx]

i know my posts are not in the tags so i can't really interact with people here but i still wanted to share this with you, i hope you enjoy if you see and read it, thank you!

it's all so sweet, so overwhelming.

the cold breeze of november makes you melt in your lover's arms, aemond's body is always hot, his muscular chest shines deliciously with a thin layer of sweat. he refuses to wear his top, just like you refuse to wear anything other than his old shirt despite the chilly air of his room. your bra is long forgotten next to your jeans on the floor, and your panties have been stuffed in aemond's pocket for the past hour.

he is a cruel man, he is clever as devil, he just knows you so well.

he teases you for unbearable minutes. his fingers find their ways into you, slick and sweet. he smiles, he almost laughs, because you just feel desperate for him. you surrender, you part your legs on his enormous bed. you just offer him what he wants and he takes it by giving you anything you need.

your hips move on sheets, your neck thrown back. he is almost on top of you but not quite. he holds you, his forearm under your head, his free hand stroking your folds. it's addicting, it's too much. your sounds increase, he just moves and moves.

you can see the outline of his cock, the soft material of his sweatpants fails to cover the shape of his hardness. you try to reach for him but your hand falls on bed when he strokes your g-spot with his index finger. you make a sound, a loud whimper, because he never stops. he just keeps pressing and rubbing into you, a relentless man.

"it's okay, sweetling. you know what i want, don't you?" he whispers, "i just want you to soak my fingers."

you move your hips against his hand, "aemond... i need-need you to-"

he slows down, just in case you'd need to stop. "what? what do you need, baby?" he encourages you to keep talking even if you're barely focused.

"don't stop." you say. "do it fast, like you were doing before."

aemond chuckles, it's a dark and dangerous sound. "you should give me one more word."

you exhale, "please."

"perfect." he says, moves his fingers faster inside you. "now, why don't you tell me what you want, hmm? can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

your breathing quickens, you are just so close, it almost hurts. "just wanna come. i just want to- please!"

his thumb rubs your clit. "it's okay, let me get you there." he kisses your forehead. "come on, baby. come around my fingers, you like doing that, right?"

and he's so right about that. there's something beautiful about coming with his fingers, you've always loved them. they touch you just the way you need, unlike your own fingers. yours are not as long as his, just make it harder to come by yourself the way you want to. thankfully, aemond is here, and he's obsessed with making you relax around him.

sweat drips on your forehead, your hairline wet and shiny. you arch your back, your hand fists the sheets under your body. the heat you feel is too much, but the relief is so sweet, you can't help smiling as you come for him. you can feel the wetness soaking aemond's fingers, your thighs are slick as well. your hips and his fingers have the certain rhytm, it's like a practiced movement. he keeps his fingers inside you, but you get tired after your body relaxes. you stop moving, just laying on bed, trying to control your breathing.

"look what you've done, sweetheart." he whispers, showing you his fingers after he pulls them back. "perfect girl."

the praise makes you glow. you give him a tired smile, your hand finds its way to wrap an arm around his neck. he pulls you to his chest, bodies melt around each other. you can hear his excited heartbeat, still clearly aroused, the hardness you feel under your body begs to continue. you kiss aemond's chin, your hands go down to pull his sweatpants. "help me?" you ask, eyes big with want.

he kisses your forehead, his hips lifted so that you can get him free from his clothing. he holds you on top of him, and eases himself inside you with a silent groan. the strech is perfect, you can almost hear the sound of your wetness as his cock moves deeper. you close your eyes, uncertain if he wants you to move.

aemond rubs your back as you lay on his chest with his cock inside you. his other hand finds your chin and he tries for an eye contact. "everything fine?" he asks with an unexpectedly sweet tone.

you nod, looking up to him with wide eyes. "do you- do you want me to move?" you ask shyly. you look content where you are, already tired from the day and your first orgasm.

aemond exhales as he gets comfortable under you, he pulls the covers on your bodies to keep you warm. "we can stay like this if that's what you want."

"i'm a little tired." you whisper. "but you didn't finish."

"that's okay." he says. "having you like this is good enough for me, yeah? get some rest, baby."

you nod, press a kiss on his chest. you try to relax your muscles around him as he stays warm inside you. his fingers stay on your body, keeping the covers tight around you. he kisses you back, on your forehead and that's everything.

[astarionfixation]

Chapter 9: “Would you like my tongue first, or my fingers, darling?”

Part of "Am I Fu**ing Insane !?!" A multi chapter adventure in Astarion’s mind

Rating: EXPLICIT SEX (fingering, cunnilingus) Continuous Consent Check-ins

CW: vague mentions of sexual abuse

Word count count: 4.8k

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/139400101

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

** Thoughts "" Dialogue - - Remarks ++ Quotes / Memories

“I have never been given the chance to… explore… I don’t know how to… ask… how I want… what I want… but I do know I want… you.”

“You have me my sweet… If I could show you how… would you want me to?”

“Please Astarion…. show me, and I’ll follow you”

His mind races back to the first night they spent together, after she found him lost to his demons on the staircase. Even though he couldn't find his voice she began with her own, heralding and announcing her actions before they were taken, in a way that made him feel safe, finally with a full vision of the situation he was in at such a vulnerable moment.

And so this might actually work? He knows he can do this, he can guide her and himself and this might actually become a way to get closer rather than hoping the mechanical practicality of being inside someone or having someone inside of him would also bring closeness. He wants to do this.

“Then lie back for me my darling, I’m going to take this shirt off of you to begin with, does that sound good?”

Every word is measured, it gives him a path to follow whereas he has always had to follow someone else’s imperatives and demands. It also helps that words give him structure before the mess of his needs, his hunger, his own desire and anger can take over. Once they leave his lips he knows he’s committed to them, he knows there’s something to follow through.

She nods again and this time he has to be clearer so that both can be on the same page. 

“If we are to do this I need to hear your voice darling, I need to know that’s what you want. Can you do that for me? Can you tell me if this is ok?”

Because if they need to break patterns by relying on what they have left of the abuse, they need to work towards each other and away from the mould others created for them. 

She swallows emptily and he can tell, they are both finding their pace in this new kind of vulnerability.

“I’m not going to do anything other than what you tell me, but I need you to tell me, darling”

She’s finding her voice for the first time, for him, and that is giving him another rhythm to follow beyond the one of his own words. It feels like another layer of safety and he can follow, they can follow each other and know where they are going, together. Her words come to his pointy ears as such relief

“I… please, yes, you can take my shirt off, you can… you can take all of my clothes… off”

He can’t help but smile and that is… new… in a situation like this…

“Thank you sweetling, you’re doing amazing, let me help you out of this then”

And his fingers have to be willingly slowed down but he can do this, he can savour this, he needs the pacing, and she clearly needs it too.

When he pulls the shirt off her head and her torso falls back on the bed, chest finally completely bare before him, he does not realise he must have been staring for longer than expected because her arms are slowly going towards sheltering her breasts from him. His hand quickly reaches up to cup her cheek. He doesn’t touch her arms but a soft plea leaves his lips

“Please don't, you are so beautiful, I just need to commit you to memory”

And he was right, it was all she needed to feel safe again. Her arms rest on her sides as she allows him to take in the sight of her. It takes him a moment to recollect his thoughts, remember he’s there to guide her. Both of them. 

“I’m going to take off my shirt as well, so you can feel my skin on yours, still with me?”

She begins nodding but then before he can remind her, her voice follows, even though it seems like there’s a true effort to get past her throat

“Yes…”

As the fabric brushes against his skin he feels lighter than being this exposed has ever felt for him. He bends down so that his upper body is now gently pressing against hers while she parts her legs to let him crawl on top of her. There might be a slightly sharp intake of air from his nostrils as the warmth of her skin assaults his senses along with her scent. His head buried in the familiar crook of her neck, maybe the last place he should be to taunt his hunger, but it’s just a second and the thought is pushed away as he suddenly feels her hands tentatively caressing his shoulders before they start to find their way to explore his back and

*No I can’t! not yet…*

He’s up in one swift move, back to kneeling between her legs, her eyes are searching his and one too many flashes seem to happen in a part of his mind he cannot quite visualise. He gathers her hand in his and brings it to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist

“I’m sorry sweetheart but I need you to tell me… ask me if you’re going to do something like that, I am not… Can you promise you won't touch my back again? For now…”

The tips of her fingers still close to his mouth begins to softly dance on his lips

“I promise, I’m sorry”

“It’s alright my darling, we’re both learning aren’t we?”

Her head nods slightly and He can feel he’s back in control now. His gaze roams on her bare chest and he knows what needs to come next. His entire body hovers upon her so he can whisper in her ear now

“Can I kiss your nipples my sweet?”

And it's hard for him to just breathe her in as his fingers trace lazy circles around the mound of her breasts, inching closer but not quite close enough, not until she says. He can feel her head nod against his own as the words escape her lips in a whimper, just loud enough for her plea to reach him

“Yes… please”

There's a strand of hope wandering his mind, he finds himself warning her

“It will feel cold, just for a moment…”

Then his lips trace a wet trail, from her neck to her breasts, and he can feel her breath has come to a halt, the anticipation trapping the air in her throat. He lets his cold breath hit the spot first as he murmurs

“Keep breathing, darling”

Her sharp intake of breath comes at the same moment his lips are closing upon her soft peak. The warmth of her breast feels incandescent to his mouth and not even his cold tongue and spit seem to contaminate her skin. There's a soft, muffled sound rhythmically present, coming from her throat now, something that she's not letting her lips relent to, and as his mouth is sucking gently at her nipple he can tell his own tongue is the director of it and *hells!* if for once it's good to know he's the cause of her unrest. His eyes close for a moment as he concedes to his own feeling of torturous bliss. His fangs barely graze upon her sensitive skin and the blood blooming just under it makes him swallow around the now hardened peak, and that was all she needed to let that melody of pleasure escape her lips and reaching his delighted ears

“That’s it my sweet, It's just you… and me, you don't have to hold back… Let me hear you sing for me”

His fingers reach for the other sweet peak that has already grown harder, his cool tips gently pressing and pulling at the same rhythm that his mouth still sucks softly at her nipple, and his ears are rewarded by the most sensual music she has yet blessed him with. He’s tempted to just follow her reactions but a flash of awareness comes back to him as he pulls his lips from her nipple whilst he keeps softly playing with the other between his fingers.

“Does this feel good sweetheart? What else would you like me to do?”

He knows it’s a challenge but she is set to surprise him, as her eyelids lift from her dark pupils, she lets out a delicious moan before uttering most delectably

“I felt that right between my legs”

She is learning fast about her wants and needs and how to communicate them, how to recognise and say what she likes. He’s only too happy to follow that lead…

“Is that where you’d like me to go next?”

And she might still need more time to find her pace, her eyes get lost in invisible patterns 

“I… I don’t know… I…”

*it’s ok, slower then…*

He can lead the way, he can bring her back to this moment

“Well… I would like to go there next… will you let me, my darling?”

She nods before something akin to a prayer leaves her lips and

“Yes… yes please…”

His nimble fingers are grazing at her sides when his voice reaches her again

“I’m just going to undo the laces here on your trousers, I need you to raise your hips for me so I can pull them down, can you do that for me sweetheart?”

She’s nodding again and he can see a quick flash of her pink tongue moistening her lips, his fingers are already working on the fastening but once they hook under the waistband he stops

“With your words, darling”

At that she raises her hips just as a barely breathed out “yes, please” reaches his ears, and in one slow movement he starts to peel the garment off of her trembling legs, until pulling at the last bit he has her foot so close to his face he plants a sweet, soft kiss on her ankle before releasing her.

And that’s the moment when he shouldn’t but he needs to take a breath, just as his eyes are feasting on her body, laid almost completely bare before him. Only the lace covering that sweet spot where her legs meet. He’s never been one for religion but he imagines the only way to describe her body must be goddess-like. He’s reminded of his own needs when his eyes linger for a moment too long on what seems to be a slightly wet patch on the last piece of fabric on her, almost touching the inside of her thigh and inevitably he finds his hardness stretching the fabric of his own trousers beyond what is comfortable. But it’s become irresistible to drive and address her pleasure now that *for once!* he is the one in control of their needs. The way she relies on him has become a source of pleasure itself and he can’t wait another moment to finally see her

*all of her*

He lowers himself so that his fingers are now pulling at the edge of her underwear, his chin resting below them on her soft thighs 

“I reckon we need to lose these too, don’t you think my dear?”

And it’s such a sweet torture to wait for her words and see her scramble to find them

“I… yes… please Astarion… take them off”

His movements might be just a tad bit quicker then he wishes he could be, but to finally have his nostrils and throat hit by the sweetness of pomegranate that emanates from her now bare, glistening lips, is something he’s been restraining himself for far too long to seem unaffected. He’s torturing both himself and her and he knows it but there is just something so enticing about his nose, his lips being so close yet not touching her, his cheek now resting on her inner thigh, while both his hands are caressing her hips ever so innocently and yet so close to absolute perdition. She must be feeling it too because, before he can even come up with his next line, a mewling plea leaves her lips and her body arches ever so slightly

“Please I… can I feel you… please?”

And he doesn’t have the heart to push it, he could coax more out of her but this is only the beginning after all. He doesn’t realise how his lips must have pulled into a smile until he tries to speak again

“Would you like my tongue first, or my fingers, darling?”

And the words alone make her hips jolt, the tip of his nose now brushing against her folds

“Don’t make me choose Astarion, I just… please”

He’s pretty confident he’s got the correct answer as the most enticing whimper resonates from her throat to her lips when the tip of his tongue begins to follow her slit, softly pushing her lips apart and getting rewarded with the most intoxicating flavour of unadulterated pleasure. Of  her. The tip of his tongue is not nearly enough and he needs to savour and taste her, to possess that sweetness until there’s nothing left. His long, greedy fingers spread her for him and when his tongue traces back to the source of her sweet wetness he has to push through her entrance and taste her from the inside, pressing softly but inexorably until all he can taste and feel around his tongue is Her.

Her hips jolt again at that and she arches. That gives him an instant of unnecessary breath to place a hand on her lower stomach and keep her in place.

“Can you stay still for me, my sweet? I don’t want to accidentally nip at you”

“I… I’m trying”

And he knows it’s true, he knows some of the reactions her body has are as involuntary as the way he can feel her pulse accelerating, just under his tongue. He plants a soft kiss just where her lips meet and that little bundle of nerves gifts him another involuntary jolt of her beautiful body, just for him. He pulls back slightly, just enough for his fingertips to graze at the junction between her thigh and the centre of her pleasure

“It's just my finger… Can you take my finger sweetheart?”

At that, her answer comes out in a prompt gasp she can't seem to get out quick enough 

“Yes! please, yes!”

And now finally the tip of his index finger can follow the edge of her lips, from top to bottom, so the moment she is holding her breath in anticipation… he slowly thrusts it in. Her soft wetness almost pulls him in, and he can already feel her clenching around his digit. Her head thrown back *neck exposed* and her heartbeat is almost concerningly raised now. A fleeting thought comes through, telling him he should give in and just devour her, but quickly as it came it goes and he remembers: this is to pace both their needs. 

For her to learn and choose what brings her pleasure, and for him to feel close to another creature without having to relent to their commands.

He can tell she's trying to stifle her moans as his finger has slowly found a rhythmic pace, sliding in and out of her and coaxing out her sweet nectar to a point the obscenely wet sounds are now almost distracting him and he can't help himself: he pulls his finger completely out, eliciting a sigh from her, and with a flick of his wrist he is now sucking and licking it clean, tasting and savouring her flavour on his tongue again. As his eyes open he can see hers are fixed on him too and he can’t help but smirk and hold her gaze till his own finger pops out of his own lips

“You are just so exquisite my sweet, I had to taste more of you. Can you take another finger for me darling? Would that be ok?”

And when her eyes hold his own he knows how hard she is trying, and still he's not prepared for what comes out of her lips next

“Yes… please… but can you… please… can you also touch… above… on my… on my clit”

She's sweet and hesitant and he can tell her heartbeat has taken off again, because putting those words together cost her, but she trusted him enough to dare and ask, and so he will certainly oblige her

“Of course my darling… how about I slide two fingers inside of you… like this”

And as his two digits now thrust and slowly disappear inside of her, coated in slick honey as she is, he moves them in and out of her, steadily, his eyes never leaving her face and as she begins to close her eyes again, her breathing getting more laboured, that's when the tip of his thumb brushes lightly at her entrance, just enough to be coated in her wetness

“And I bring my thumb to press just… over… here…”

He grazes her folds until it reaches her clit. And the deep moan it elicits in her fills him with pleasure, his two fingers still slowly thrusting in and out of her while now his thumb is pressing in a circular motion that repeats itself over, and over, and over again

“Does it feel good sweetling? Tell me what you need…”

Her hips are now following the rhythm of his hand, meeting his thrusts as her back arches so that his fingers press further against her silky walls, curling just at the tip and pressing against that spot that he knows is going to drive her to the edge.

He hardly has to move his hand at all now as she grinds against his fingers, tightening the muscles in the walls of her entrance and beginning to meet resistance even against knuckles as slender and delicate as his. There's a tinge of pain now in her exaltations that gives pause to his dedication

*I've heard that sound before…I've made that sound before…*

“I need you to relax for me darling, can you do that… for me?”

Her body freezes and the silence of the room is deafening with not a single breath between them. Her heart pounds harder as it screams for oxygen until now he can feel every single vein and blood vessel in her sex tracing out her pulse in an intricate network of pleasure around his fingers and for a moment it's as though he can't tell if the pulse on his fingers is hers or his own heart beating for the first time in over two centuries.

“Breathe, my sweet”

Her chin dances in tiny rapid nods before finally letting go and as the warm sweet air leaves her collapsing chest the muscles finally relent, flooding her wetness around his fingers inviting him in. 

“That's it sweetheart, you're doing so well, just let go…”

For a moment his instincts take over, feeling no resistance from her body he lets his own excitement set the pace

“Just… please… slower… but don't stop… it feels… good… so good”

And he's only too happy to indulge, he could spend hours watching her beautiful body come undone just on his hand, but the way she is now writhing tells him that she's close and he just needs to push her over the edge… while his fingers keep pumping excruciatingly slowly in and out of her, his thumb still drawing deliberately pressured circles around the centre of her pleasure. 

“That's my good girl, let me hear you… just tell me how you want me to touch you… I’ll do everything you tell me to…”

A sharp sting traverses his mind as the words leave his mouth and he realises he might have involuntarily shared more than he meant to. Thankfully she claims his attention again, immediately, as she lets out a frustrated whimper before finally releasing a strained “m..more…” that reminds him how he’s the one in control of this. Of her. 

Thoroughly. Entirely. Wholly. 

Her body straining and begging for his touch while he’s the only one at the receiving end of each and every prayer she articulates with her sensuous movements before they can escape her lips. He’s the only one that can decide whether those prayers will be answered or whether she can be taught to ask for more. The thought paints a smirk on his own elegant features and the power he holds +in the tiny bone of his own wrist+ as she eloquently put it, truly feels as such, with every tiny fibre of her luxurious body answering and reacting to any minuscule movement he decides to inflict upon her feverish sex. 

*You can ask for more, sweet thing, but you need to do it properly, and that? That won't do at all…*

“More of what, my sweet? Come on… be a good girl for me… use your words”

“M..more on my..on my clit…please”

*That's better, you’re learning the rules, and that I can most certainly do*

With the hand pressed firmly on her stomach he pulls ever so slightly on her soft, gleaming skin, pulling back on her vulva and exposing the source of her pleasure. Such a pretty unassuming little thing, transfixed by his gaze he starts to move the very tip of his thumb excruciatingly slowly and deliberately around the edge of her completely exposed glans. So soft at first that it's impossible to tell if he's actually touching her or if the electricity between them is creating imperceptibly small sparks of racing pleasure between them.

“M..more..please…harder”

*Now we're getting somewhere, my precious little love*

His thumb presses ever so slightly closer, allowing the friction to slowly increase guided by the rhythm of her moans as she assumes the role of both conductor and instrument in the orchestra they've both become swept up in rising to a crescendo. With every thrust of his fingers he pushes ever so slightly deeper into her inviting warmth and her lips kiss at the knuckles where his fingers meet the back of his hand, fitting so perfectly around everything he has to give her. 

That's when his entire body moves to be on top of hers, his hand still tormenting her, slow but relentless just as she requested, chest pressing on her soft breasts as he brings his head to the crook of her neck where his lips can whisper directly into her ear

“Are you going to come for me sweetheart? Are you going to come all around my fingers? I want you to come, can you do that for me darling?”

And he knows that was what she needed because he suddenly feels her whole body tremble under his, her legs close shut around his hand and he can feel her pulsating and clenching repeatedly around his fingers, yet he doesn't stop his own measured movements, which after a moment of complete silence elicit a delicious groan growing from her throat into a scream onto her lips that carry his own name. 

“Ah… Astarion!”

He finds himself smiling whilst his own body unexpectedly twitches as her climax washes over her. 

A pleasure he caused himself.

A pleasure she let him direct which makes control feel like power after centuries of escapism.

As her body stills and her breath finds a more regular pace he slowly moves to retract his fingers from her, but no matter how delicate he tries to be, her sensitive flesh makes her whole body twitch still. He pulls himself up, kneeling between her legs and

*I could lick her clean of every bead of sweat on her skin*

The thought alone reminds him of the sweet slickness coating his own fingers and he doesn’t care if the way he takes them in his mouth makes him look starved, because in a way he is, and concerningly he’s now doubtful that, after this, he could ever take his fill of her and say that’s enough. He swirls his tongue and sucks his fingers, closing his eyes to focus on the flavour that even under oath he could not swear comes second after her very own delectable blood. His bliss gets interrupted only by her soft voice gently reaching his ears once more

“What do I taste like?”

*The kitten is quickly learning how to become a temptress*

He can’t help a tug at the corner of his lips and promptly moves his body gracefully back onto hers, lowering his head so that his lips are almost brushing hers but not touching, still bending to her own rule as he whispers

“Would you like to find out?”

And before he can move any further she's arching her back to press her own lips against his so that the tip of his tongue can softly demand access to share her tangy sweetness with her, from her lips to his and finally back to hers again.

And right now he's elated. It's beyond the bliss of the senses that overtakes him as his insides fill with fresh blood, it's more encompassing, more… complete. He is keenly aware of the needs of his body but to finally kiss her after accompanying her discovery of her own pleasure is its own kind of egotistical gratification. For the first time in any life he remembers he didn't have to clutch to the shreds of control he could delude himself he had, no, he was the beginning and the end, this scenario existed only because he willed it so. Because whereas everyone always demanded his performance and service for their own pleasure, this time his own skills, his own talents were to his own service, working through his own desire to give her back pieces of herself in the only way he knew how, which prodigiously happened to be the one way she needed to. 

He knew everything there was to know about physical pleasure.

She was never given the chance to learn about it before.

He's losing himself in this kiss that still tastes like her when it occurs to him…

*I'm her first too. In the only way that matters…*

There's a tinge of pride in the idea he's the only one who ever made her feel good in her own skin, who ever guided her to reach her climax. He's losing himself in the thoughts caressing his ego and now the kiss has moved to a softer, sweeter pace. He pulls away just enough so his lips can leave a soft peck on the tip of her nose and then his eyes can find hers.

Some part of him is dying to speak, to proclaim what it means, viscerally, that she's his first blood and now he's her first true lover, how that binds their flesh and fluids in a true implication of mutual ownership. He wishes he could tell her *show her* exactly every which way he can make her discover new peaks of pleasures until all she remembers is his own name and all that she feels is the complete and utter bliss of their bodies, mingling together without solution of continuity to be ever found again. 

And maybe he can find ways, in time, to push past the invisible hand that seems to grasp at his throat any time his words threaten to betray his vulnerability for how much he wants her. He needs her. He depends on finding ways to keep her interested in him because he will never accept to go back to a life without her flavours -all of them- coating his insides.

His cock suddenly twitches involuntarily, straining against his trousers, reminding him his need of control masked as generosity has left him still desperate, the vague reminder of the pomegranate essence from her dripping wet sex now slowly fading from his tongue with so much hunger still to be sated. Yet all he can muster is just

“Thank you, my sweet” 

hoping that his eyes betray the thousand devotions screaming to escape the facade.

He can see her features truly blissful now, and for the first time he realises that every calm moment she painted on her face before does not live up to this, so how much practice did she have at keeping her emotions in, to even fool him? Her voice is mellow, still high from pleasure, and it’s just another reminder of how much his own body has been affected by what just happened. She gently whispers

“I think those are my words”

*You devilish little minx, you’re going to be such a delightful pet for me*

“Yes my darling, you've been very good with your words, you catch up so quickly I already know… you're going to be a wonderful student”

[sky-kiss]

WIP Wednesday (Almost. We're Getting Closer)

Thank you for the tag @flamemittens. I've been like...taking a little bit of a break from writing, so I don't have anything big or sexy to put here. So just have like. Some weirdness that I might refine down the line:

Excerpt:

Everything swims—his vision, his thoughts—a sea of red, dozens of shades, some outside the scope of the mortal eye, bleeding together. He is dying—and how apropos that it should end in red. 

Raphael scowls, pushing past the pain, clawing up towards consciousness and away from the beckoning numbness, the finality, of death. Someone screams his name, horrified and furious in equal measure. His Duchess, his Joi—it must be, and there is heat as she lashes out at his assailants. The air crackles, shadows writhe…more screaming…distorted, distant, like he’s underwater. Swimming, yes, it all came back to that. 

And then there are hands on him, pressing, pushing, warm and wet. Their fingers curl, and he tries to reach for them in the haze. 

But he slips. The surface is so far off. He’s drowning.

~~~~~~~~~~

Raphael floats, weightless for the first time in his long life. 

"Did I ask you for hypotheticals, servant?" His Duchess snaps. Joi's hold tightens, her arms linked under his own to keep him above the pool's surface. She speaks again, all archness and offended nobility. "His wounds are not mending. Tell me why." 

Ah, but your confidence is such a pretty lie, sweetling, he thinks. He hears the minor tremor in Joi's voice, feeling the thundering of her heart in her breast. The godling worries. 

"We cannot say, Duchess! We cannot say. The Duke…he ought…” 

"Your simpering is not an answer." 

I am dying, he thinks. Joi's grip tightens as if in response.

"Poison," the devil chokes out. "Aye, it must be of Mephistopheles' design. Engineered for the Duke." 

The water boils in response to her fury. "And the antidote?" 

"If it is of the Cold Lord's making…" the sentence drifts off. No, no antidote. No, he'll drown…back to swimming, back to drowning. 

"No." 

"My Lady?" 

"I forbid it," the godling snarls, more petulant child than a queen. Raphael wants to laugh—oh, he's shaped her well, greedy little beast. 

Whatever comes next is lost to him. The tide comes back in, washes over him, and thought ceases.

~~~~~~~~~~

He's flying. Raphael feels the wind in his hair, the distant stench of brimstone and ash. Talons curl around him. The devil opens his eyes, but it's still all red aside from a blurry swathe of black—concerning.  Why aren't you dead? A voice grumbles, and the Archduke wonders if it is his inner monologue or his Sire's. And the answer is obvious, if spiteful: you will not have the satisfaction of killing me.

_______

UH. I don't know who to tag who haven't been tagged already. So, I will tag @makesometime and anyone else who wants to play!

[igbylicious]

Okay okay okay igny i see your wips i see them 👀 can we have any info at all about vampire yunho? If you have it of course. Love me a good biter hehe

- Ace anon ♠️

oh nooooooo no, i'm so sorry i actually don't have any info abt vampire yunho!!! 〒▽〒 because the 'ot8 vampire' wip title is misleading; two of the members are not vampires, they're incubi 〒▽〒 i can still talk a lil abt him, i hope this is still okay asdkjdsjksdkj

okay so; seonghwa is the other incubus, and he's with the vampire coven for a personal matter. yunho tagged along to keep him company, just here to vibe while the vampires deal with a little problem they have snarling down in their basement 😬 (hongjoong; who also happens to be seonghwa's personal matter 😬)

yunho is there to keep an eye on seonghwa, but he's also curious & bored — so he has some fun to keep himself entertained, toying with this pretty human that the vampires keep around for some reason :3

snippet under the cut, warnings for a talk abt sex but nothing explicit, manipulative yunho, classic dubcon incubus powers of persuasion

WIP TAG GAME

“The thing is,” Yunho says, his smile mocking as his fingers graze over the waistband of your jeans, “you’ve misunderstood something about how all of this works.”

“Doesn’t seem so complicated to me,” you sneer back at him — but the growing thrum of heat under your skin is all too obvious, even through the muddled irritation of your migraine. It only makes you more annoyed with him. “I’m not stupid, I know it’s you. So cut. It. Out.”

Yunho chuckles, quietly disagreeing with your self-assessment. “What do you think I’m actually doing to you? That I make you want to fuck those guys?”

“W-well, yeah,” you stammer, but your confidence is shaken as his fingertips inch underneath your pants, the contact of skin-on-skin only empowering his influence. Pleasure bursts through your veins, sweetening the crimson nectar your hosts thrive on. “What else cou—?”

“I’m not making you do a thing,” Yunho purrs, enjoying your muted gasp as he leans in. He holds back just shy of a kiss, breaths intermingling. “Yeah, I can get you worked up. I can get you in a mood. But I don’t have a damn say about what you do with any of that.”

You whimper at his proximity but still arch in closer; like a moth who knows it will get burned but helplessly follows its nature, knowing no other way to be. “Th-that’s—”

“You know, I was curious if you’d single someone out,” Yunho says, his eyes bright with amusement as he watches how arousal overpowers the misery of your constant headaches, the relief on your face plain as day. Really, you ought to be thanking him. “I thought I’d suss out some little crush on one of these bloodsuckers keeping you here. But no, you’re all about equal opportunity, aren’t you? Happy to just fuck whoever happens to be there. That’s not on me, sweetling. That’s all you.”

[pouralaura]

wip wednesday

thanks for the tag, @tellmeallaboutit 🥰

1

who will burn who, Raphael/Tav university AU (hopefully I'll have this out sometime next week!)

The teacher/student chase is a tale as old as time, he knows; a terrible, titillating don't stand so close to me cliché. A perverse and sordid little affair. Raphael thinks delightedly that the established precedent makes this all the sweeter, all the more indulgent – particularly when he knows Tav sees it much the same, plays the game along with him.

With naught but exactly that brand of indulgence on his mind, he brings the elegant pastel fabric to his nose and inhales his sweetling, long and slow, and it’s a luxury. Sharp and sweet and wet; a hint of sweat, a touch of baby powder. Her musky scent stirs his cock to life again beneath his zipper, but he doesn't touch; not yet. Instead he holds the fabric there, breathing in and out. He is greedy. Wants too much, too fast.

But why shouldn’t he have it?

2

untitled, Astarion/Gale and Raphael/Tav

“Which one of them are you imagining right now?”

Gale grits his teeth. “Certainly n-not Raphael.”

“Tav, then? Hmm. A lovely choice.”

“You two have – then?”

He's not thought about her with any serious intent. She's cold and assertive and stubborn in a way that wouldn’t work alongside him. They don't share enough of the same interests. But he can't pretend she's not lovely. Can't pretend he's not hard and aching in the elf’s grip as he listens to her little mewls, even when it's a creature he trusts not an ilm coaxing them from her lips.

“Yes. More than once. But that was some time ago.”

“Do you still think about it?”

“Mmmm,” muses Astarion. “Not really. Loathe as I am to admit it, I do respect her very much.”

“Raphael,” they hear her pant. “Please – nnnmmmpphhh!”

There’s the unmistakable sound of a harsh slap against soft flesh, and a muffled moan – Gale can’t decide whether it’s more likely Raphael’s hand or Tav’s own over her traitorous mouth.

Astarion chuckles quietly, thumb moving lightly over Gale’s tip. “It’s a good thing they’re so far away from camp. Tav does love a spanking.”

3

tomorrow means nothing (ch. 2), Raphael/Tav modern AU inspired by The White Lotus

“I���ve – I’ve been with other people since. Since last time,” she confesses in a rush.

His eyes burn, but not in anger. She thinks, actually, that it might be pride. But for what? “Jealous as I may be of those lucky men or women, I cannot pretend to have lain a claim of exclusivity on you after but one night.”

She laughs nervously. “Your…erm…line of work probably doesn’t allow for many long-term attachments.”

“And what line of work is that?”

“Murder, I guess?”

He sighs. “Don’t be reductive. I am a freelance contracted killer. There is endless business negotiation involved.”

[bhaalbabebardlock]

~Sunday Snippet~

Thank you @elinorbard for the tag 🫡💕

I'm gonna tag @astarionfreak, @compendiumcal, @ballofbitter and @nyda-the-tav 🫶

This is from the next chapter of the crown (so, spoilers!). See also: Ilara finally gets some answers from someone

“Not exactly,” they replied softly, leaning closer to her. “Raphael needed help after your little act of rebellion. Who better to ask than the person who hates you the most? Willingly or not, the vampire is not your biggest fan. However obsessed with you he might be.”

“Haarlep, what do you mean willingly or not?”

(spoilers under the cut!)

“I only know as much as Raphael knows, pup. And I know that Astarion's anger towards you goes far deeper than you being sneaky and taking what he believes was his. He feels nothing for you but rage. Have you not noticed this? Could you not see? Anyone can see it. Don't tell me you're that… unobservant.” She lifted her hands, pressing them against Haarlep's chest, the blood rushing in her ears. Her voice sounded far away, like it was underwater as she tried to speak.

“Haarlep. What do you mean?”

“His soul, sweetling. It has been.. cut into. Sliced up. All of those warm, fuzzy feelings for you- all but gone.” She blinked up at them slowly, her mind feeling like sludge as she unraveled their words. “The hag,” she breathed, her eyes closing.

[peggyao3]

Pt. 13 - (Pseudo) Pregnancy

A/N: The only trope yee aunt Peggy will never ever write is actual pregnancy… Meanwhile cannibalism, dune-typical incest, non-con, no problem, but pregnancy is just too close to irl body horror for me, but luckily I can make up anything in the world of fiction and beat the trope into a shape of my liking 😂😌 thank you @nocturn-warrior for the spark of inspiration to pick this prompt hehe 🤭

Can be seen as part of the Night Crawler universe, I think <3

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, breeding kink, descriptions of pregnancy symptoms without an actual child growing in there, FMC is thin enough to see a distension of the womb, squirting, dub-con

WORD COUNT: 450

"You're whining so much today," Feyd-Rautha groans, situated warm and hard between her spread thighs.

"Yes," she grates out through clenched teeth, pushing against her husband's round shoulders with no real fight aside from the nails that scrape over his velvety skin. "I'm too full and you damn well, a-ahhh, k-know it!" 

A hard jab of his cock has made a splash of wetness spatter against his hard abdomen and she burns up with shame, feeling the wet glide of skin against her already distended belly.

"Too full, sweetling?" Her insatiable husband grins black and wide, slowing his thrusts and canting his pelvis against the spot that causes her nerves to jitter and more essence to drip past the root of his cock. "I think there's room for a few more of my whelps in your warm, little womb."

Her channel spasms around his obscene girth upon that and he taunts her with laughter. His sweet wife is rotten and can't help the twitching of her needy cunt at the thought of being bred round and full by her virile husband.

All of this is just play. The na-Baron doesn't like the idea of sharing the attention of his treasured toy with a bawling, nagging, vomiting offspring. She can all but pray that it remains this way. Forced into marriage and this play of pretend, she won't allow him to force her into anything else, or their marriage will end in a bloodbath.

"Mmmh, just be still, my darling. Your husband knows what's best for you." Feyd-Rautha picks up speed, stuffing himself into her slick hole despite her indignant whines about the change of tempo. "If you don't wanna keep still, I might just strap you in next time, put you in a harness like a broodmare and stuff you so full that my seed drips down your legs."

His cock jumps against her snug walls and he lets his head fall forward, drool on his lips when he empties himself with stuttering hips, forehead pressing against his wife's. She shivers when his eyes snap open, dark and yearning beneath blonde lashes.

With every rush of seed into her body, the artificially injected cocktail of enzymes that lies dormant in her blood induces a rush of amniotic fluid into her womb. The pressure makes her groan and whine and that's also how she knows it's not real, because it happens too fast. 

Feyd reaches one hand between their bodies, the one with the wedding band, and pats her belly, whispering with gravelled breath how pretty she looks, swollen with his heir and how well she carries his Harkonnen brood.

The effect lasts only a couple of days— But Feyd-Rautha fucks his wife more often than that.

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring

[penneferofvenerburg]

Alone

Tag list: henrycavilledits @elizabetharegina @hertzwritings @littlefreya @henrycavillfan @penneferofvenerburg @evansabove1981 @writersblog20 @resowrites etc:)

Title: Alone

Warnings: Feeling abandonment, past trauma of bullying, crying Reader being disabled.

🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂

You were sat in your apartment wondering why on earth you're new friend Actor Henry Cavill Superman himself became you're friends after you became a newest writer on Enola Holmes 2 and soon you were talking g books and all things fantasy, he credited you saying that " You are very intelligent and very funny"! There was a great secret that you had harboured for years even before meeting Henry, before they'd even talked, Henry did everything in between him and spending time with you beit on the phone or messaging each other. Despite you're friendship you still felt insecurity, even when you went out on a night out it caused you to have little anxiety out and about, suddenly you got a message from Henry.

Hey Y/n, its Henners! I've been so worried about you I'm sorry that I haven't been able to reply I've been busy with work. H x

Your heart skipped in chest as pressed on the message box and repiled back ....

Henners thank god I'm sorry to have ask this after you've worked so hard but can you come here I'm scared and i can't shake it out off me. Y/n x

Within s second Henry was typing back .....

Yes of course I can darling! Do you want me to bring you anything? Y/n x

You messages him back ......

no just yourself .... I could not do without you. Y/n x

Henry was there at your door in minutes you felt tears burning in the back if your eyes as you walked to your front door opening it, Henry saw you flopping on the floor, in tears streaming down your face. " oh my God sweetheart! Come here ..... I'm here now shh shh"! Henry whispered into your hair. " Sweetheart tell me what's wrong"? , Henry questioned you looked tired and worn out , " I don't know ... its just I get get the feeling of loneliness out of me"! You sobbed, Henry held you tighter to him, " Darling! Look at me! You're not alone I'm here...... I'm not leaving you "! , " now you go and sit down and I'll go and run you a nice bath hmm"! Henry offers, you smiled up at him, " Thankyou for doing this Henners"! You reply with a weak smile and a hiccup from the hard sobs that had wracked though your body. " Angel that's what I'm here for I'll call you when your bath is ready"! Henry told you as he kissed your forehead and lead you to your own setee.

Your sobs stopped and you went into tour bedroom to get the things ready for your bath. You heard the tap on in the bathroom you didn't go in you just obidently did as Henry had told you were wracking your brains as to what to do after the bath, he knew just by looking at you that youd lost sleep over it. He also knew that you somehow had forgotten eat. Henry came out of the bathroom his hands wet from the bath after he dried them on the towel. " You're baths ready princess.... Shout me if you need me okay"! You smiled you thought about thanking him again.

You walked into the bathroom the tub was full to the brim with water and hot soapy bubbles it had the scent of the Nivea scented bubble bath you brought a while go. You stood there still clothed just staring the bath water, when Henry re entered he saw you standing there staring at the bath, " Princess what's wrong"? Henry asked concerned for you, shook off the trance like feeling, " its nothing it's just my head went into it's own world then"! You replied, Henry stalked toward you kissing the side of your head he whispered gently, " Come on Sweetpea let's get these clothes then sooner you get in the sooner you can relax hmm .... Lift your arms"! He instructed you did as he told you, he stripped you down one by one, your cheeks flushed from enbrassement. " I've seen it all before Sweetling don't worry ... Go on get it, he held your hand as you stepped into the bathtub, it slashed about as you sat and settled back into it.

It wasn't long before Henry joined you in your bathtub, it was huge it was just about made for two people. He stood in front of you turning round sos you couldn't see him strip he climbed in behind you with his knees up to his chest spread so you could fit between them. " are you okay Sweetness"? Henry asked, you nodded in answer to his question. " Darling you're beautiful"! Henry told you seeing the shampoo and conditioner on the side he whispered " Scoot up abit sweet girl I'm going wash your hair"! You obeyed him it was so easy to obey him, you scouted foward he carefully poured the water over your head, with his hand in front of your eyes. He squeezed abit of shampoo into his hand and massaged it into your scalp gently it felt as if his fingers were barely at all, " Put your head back abit bunbun"! He softly instructed you, allowing the water to drip off the back of you, he did the same thing with conditioner, only this time once he'd moved your long hair to the other side if you each time he kissed you on the spot of your neck.

It was the bullying at School you remembered and the stress of writing your first novel it all got abit too much Henry had managed to make it disappear.

Once the conditioner was in your hair, he left it five minutes then grabbed the jug and replaced over your eyes washing the conditioner out of your hair. " Thankyou Henry for washing my hair"! You smiled, he smiled back at you replying " Sweetness theres no need to thank me I'd do it anyway"! It was kind of hard not to deny him the right to wash your hair you did the last little bit yourself Henry got out first wrapping a towel round his middle leaving his chest bare, not bothering to put a t shirt on, turning round he held out his hand and helped to stand in the bath with the water round your feet, he watched carefully as you stepped out of the bath onto the towel on the floor, Henry began to try you off with a warm towel from the rack behind him.

He gently took your hand and led you into your bedroom where you said on the edge of your bed while Henry sat behind you loving ly towel drying your hair for you. He kissed the back of your head still damp from the shower he smelt the scent of your hair guzzling it. " Eh you cheeky"! You giggled, he giggled back at you. Seeing the paddle brush you passed it to him and he begun to brush your long hair for you. A few minutes later Hair dried and plated you and Henry snuggled up to watch Love Rosie on the DVD player.

It was 9.30pm when you'd finally fell asleep snuggled up to Henry with your head on his chest, kissing your head he whispered " Come my darling time for bed"! He got off your setee leaving you there your sleeping form facing him he lifted you into his arms as if you hardly a thing and carried you into bed. He undressed you untying the robe he hooked over the back of the chair putting you in the bed he climbed in next to you.

He hovered over you as he gently placed a kiss on your forehead again whispering " Goodnight Princess Sweet dreams"!. You smiled into your sleep, when saw you smiling he chuckled, you turned over into his furry chest unconsciously kissing it yet another chuckle escaping him.

With his arms safely and protectively round you Henry quickly followed Suite and fell into sleep with soft London moonlight lighting your faces in the darkness of your room.

The end

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

For the @ainursecretsanta side event, and inspired by these prompts created by @cilil

Pairing: Vána | Nessa

Themes: Soft

Warnings: None

Word count: 600+ words

Summary: Nessa takes Vána all the way to Middle-Earth to surprise her with something new that she had planned. 

Minors DNI

Divider by @estrelinha-s

"Where are you taking me?"

Nessa kept Vána's hand firmly in hers and smiled. "You will see soon enough, my love."

Vána looked about her. The path Nessa led her through was unfamiliar to her. Then again, most of Middle-Earth had grown unfamiliar to her since she walked it last. Spruce and Fir and Pine grew thick around these parts, and fallen needles covered the earth like a carpet. 

Where are we going? Vána wondered even as her curiosity grew and grew. Nessa did not utter much when they met in the halls her lord brother called home, except to say that she had devised a new diversion for them, and that she would give nothing else away until the appointed time arrived. 

"Are you certain this is wise?" Vána inquired, afraid. They were alone in this strange land, with neither a weapon nor a warrior to keep them safe. "We are a long way from Valinor, and if trouble should find us... "

"Trouble will not find us, sweetling," Nessa turned to face her. She sensed her companion's slow, creeping apprehension. It was a skill she learned at her brother's knee. "My brother and his attendants hunt in these forests more often than not," she revealed in the hope of comforting Vána and dispelling her fears. "We are safe, I assure you."

If Oromë and his elves hunt here, then it must be safe. Somewhat appeased, Vána encouraged Nessa to lead her on. They walked and walked and walked until they came upon a little clearing in the middle of the forest. Then Nessa let go of her hand and whistled. 

It was not long before they heard little bells tinkling and hooves striking the earth. Then came a strange hissing sound, as if something heavy was being dragged along. Vána could not believe what she was seeing. Approaching them were deer, the likes of which she had never seen before. Their coats were gray, and their antlers were elegant and finely formed. The hissing rose from the chariot they drew, one that was painted in bright colors and held two elves. 

"Greetings, my lady!" One of them called to Nessa and shouted a command. The deer obeyed and ceased their cantering. "And you, lady Vána. I trust you had no trouble during your journey here."

"We did not, sir. And thank you for bringing them." Nessa stood to the side and waited until they descended from the strange chariot that brought them here. 

"Do not go beyond the edge of the lake," the other elf warned them. "There is a hunt afoot and our kin may not see you until it is too late."

Nessa thanked them again and took her seat. Vána joined her and watched as she took the reins. The chariot was wide enough to carry two, and quite comfortably as well. There were cushions to sit on, and thick pelts if it grew too cold. Then Nessa cracked the reins. The deer snorted and eased into a slow trot. 

Vána could not help but feel giddy with anticipation. "What are they?" She cried. "And what is this? I have never seen a chariot quite like this before."

There was another crack of the reins. The deer broke into a gallop, and Vána squealed in delight. Trees flew by as the deer ran by them. The cool wind whipping at her hair and face felt invigorating and brought a rosy flush to her cheeks. 

"This is a sleigh," Nessa revealed, more than a little invigorated herself. She was now glad she approached the elves that lived in these woods and asked them to aid her in her scheme. "And those are reindeer. The elves that live in these parts are wild for them."

Reindeer and sleighs. Vána never imagined such a pairing being possible, but she was overjoyed all the same. She slipped her arm through Nessa's, content to admire the world around her as they raced through the forest. 

Tags: @asianbutnotjapanese @3dragonstar

[thetarttfuldickhead]

RULES: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

I was tagged by sweetlings @lunar-years @coolpointsetta and @goodmorninglovelies42 and then completely failed to do this because I hadn't written anything in a while and couldn't remember what sentence actually was the last... But! Things have changed! The tides have turned! I have pressed keys and put together words! Glory unto me!

Sentence: Roy was unmoved; unyielding like the stone.

As I'm late to this, I have no idea who's done it or not, but... @pghumfort @izzyspussy @fanficfanattic @destinationtoast @jamiesfootball @dreamylyfe-x @babytarttdoodoo (Thank God it was a very short sentence.) As always, no pressure if tag games aren't your thing. <3