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#the more he asked me not to weep the more i went on weeping
viovio · 9 months
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this cahara fellow intrigues me… might i know more 👀
SMILING ok so basically he's a mercenary who's been hired for a hefty sum to retrieve a prisoner from the dungeons of fear and hunger, a captain of a mercenary army. The job is already suspicious to him but having to do dirty work and petty thievery from a young age he takes it.
Though as selfish as he is this job isn't entirely for himself, he promises his pregnant wife he'll buy her out of debt from the brothel she's working at and a life of luxury after this mission so they won't have to ever think of their past again. Makes sense when the intro of his playthrough says he had been abandoned as a child.
It's interesting because while you play as him you get a lot of other insight such as some flavor text when you pick up the small dagger. Unsuited for someone like you but smaller kids could wield it, and he is reminded of his father who taught him how to use one in combat at an early age. So his parents were at least semi-present.
If you play as any other character you can find him in the level 3 prisons where he asks if he could join your party, upon agreeing and leaving the area you'll find he's missing along with some of your blue vials (if you don't have those then literally anything else) already showing petty thievery. Though if you find him later in the mines you could lash out at him putting you in battle or pretend that didn't happen and he can be recruited in your party permanently.
He's a funny guy, sort of the most laid back out of all of the party even being flirty at times. Keep in mind he's still in a relationship with Celeste (his wife) and even with that demeanor I don't think he would like. abandon her so it's definitely an open agreement. With how his S ending has him return to her and his dream sequence he's pretty devoted. That said he's always down for the marriage sequences having some of the best dialogue when you "show love" to him.
It makes it all the more obvious when he starts losing his will the deeper you both go depending on how you manage him.
SPOILERS DOWN BELOWWWWW↓↓↓
ANOTHER THING THAT MAKES ME ABSOLUTELY INSANE (through spoiler osmosis, I haven't finished most of the endings yet nor have I gotten to termina) IS HOW ITS IMPLIED HE DIED IN THE DUNGEONS. YEA ALL THE PLAYABLE CHARACTERS' S ENDINGS ARE CANON EXCEPT HIS. HE'S THE ONE WHO LED THE GIRL TO ASCENSION AT THE DEPTHS. THOUGH I DON'T THINK HE'D KNOW THIS IT ALSO MAKES THE MOST SENSE SINCE HE'S AN EXPECTING FATHER HIMSELF AND WOULDN'T HAVE LEFT HER BEING ABANDONED AS A CHILD HIMSELF AND OHHHHHHHHH GOD CAHARAAAAAAA. CHARAHHEA
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petrichorium · 8 months
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so I think I got to that absolutely devastating thing in witch hat last night—that hurt :,)👍 literally was not expecting qifrey to wipe oru’s memory after everything the story seemed to be building up for between this hurdle for them
like….that was such an important moment for them. Oru had been so willing to help him despite qifrey become so insanely fixated on stopping the brimmed hats and….qifrey made the decision that he’d rather oru remember him as the qifrey he’s familiar with than whatever he’s become now. put me down like an old dog—that HURT
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AGOKNEEEEEEEEEEEE
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scara-writes · 16 days
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paramour
Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant
I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).
The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.
CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.
I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.
Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.
"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.
"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.
Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.
You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.
You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.
The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from alcohol after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.
"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.
Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.
You didn't hide Everett to your husband.
What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?
Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."
So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?
Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.
"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?
You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.
You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You saw Everett's face was frowning too. "Fine, tell him I'll be there." You announced to the butler. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and find your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.
Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."
His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"
You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"
Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"
He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.
The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.
You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.
You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."
You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.
The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.
His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."
You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.
"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.
Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.
"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"
You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging hus presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"
"(Y/n)."
"Yes, husband?"
His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?
"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not." Your voice getting a little louder.
"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.
"This is my property as well!" You talk back.
There was silence between the room.
"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.
You scoff standing up, "I think I had my fill..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.
"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.
He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.
"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.
Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.
"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"
"..."
"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.
When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.
"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.
Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went rub your back.
If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.
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lilisettean · 3 months
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Fogged Mirror | Zayne/Reader
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About: You went to check on Zayne when you felt a sudden drop in temperature. You knew he was in the shower but... What if he was in pain again because of Evol overuse? Couldn't hurt to check right? Until one thing let to another and...
Pairing: Zayne/Reader
Notes: I saw the artwork for Zayne's Lingering Warmth and yeah. Mirrors. Fogged mirrors. And my brain ran with it hahaha...
AO3: Read here!
Warnings: Hinted no protection. Age 18+ only please. Enjoy :)
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“Open your eyes and look at yourself. Good… good girl.”
You struggled to keep your eyes open, doing your best to fight against the waves of pleasure that coursed through you at that moment and not let your eyes roll back. The vapor and water droplets that clung to the mirror in front of you made it difficult to see what Zayne wanted you to see, but you managed. 
And was it a sight. 
You were naked in front of the full length mirror the bathroom has, your skin flushed from the heat. And Zayne was right behind you; his hands grabbing your hips as he slid his hardened cock between your thighs, both of your towels laid forgotten on the damp floor. 
Fleetingly you thought, how did this even happen; how did you coming to check on Zayne when you felt a sudden drop in temperature after your shower led to you having his cock so sinfully close to your heat?
That thought, however, was quickly forced out of your mind the moment he pulled back, the reddish tip of his cock grazing your clit as he thrusted forward. You grapsed at his hands and arch your back, or as much as you could with him lifting and holding you in place, the sensations from him brushing your clit with the side of his cock and fucking your slick folds was so overwhelming that you let out the moan that you’ve been holding in for so long.
“Don’t hold back.” Zayne murmured against your ear, his breath tickling your earlobe. Was it your imagination or he had picked up the pace a little?
You fought against the cloudy haze of lust that had descended upon your mind and opened your eyes, wanting to see more of his reaction. Through the mirror you saw him bite his lip as he thrusted, his brows furrowed and face tense, as though controlling himself. The hands that were on your hips were making indents into your skin, and while you cannot see it with all the water vapor in the room, you could feel his precum leaking and dripping onto your inner thighs.
“Mmh– Zayne–” You breathed out, his thrusts growing sloppier and more erratic with each call of his name. You could feel his cock throbbing against your heat, and God, did you want him to just–
“Ah–!” You let out a startled moan when he suddenly slid a hand under your thigh and lifted it, giving himself better access as he pushed his weeping tip past your entrance. 
“Focus on me.” He said, nipping your earlobe as his other hand found your cheek and kept you in place, making you watch him slowly sheath his cock within you, inch by inch. It was as though he was making you acknowledge that you belonged to him now, that he was the only one that could ever see you in such a state.
You squirmed as his cock made its way deeper into you, his girth stretching you more than your fingers ever could. His grip on your thigh tightened when your walls fluttered around him, clenching him and tempting him to just give in to his lust for you.
“You alright?” He asked once he was completely within you, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head while waiting for you to adjust. He grunted when you clenched around him to test the waters, his cock twitching in anticipation in response.
At your nod, he kissed the top of your head once more, before holding your cheek in place, rendering you unable to look away from the full length mirror.
“Now watch.” Zayne whispered as he slowly dragged his cock out of you, leaving only the tip in. “Good girl.” 
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wannabespiderman · 3 months
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Starving.
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Thank you so much to everyone that was so nice to like and reblog my previous post <3 I really appreciate it and it gave me inspiration to write more! Fair warning that I wrote this while being a little tipsy so some typos may have occured.
Bucky Barnes x reader
Bucky completely forgot what it was like to be touched in a way that wasn't punishing. Well, until he met you.
.
.
.
Bucky Barnes was a conundrum. He was strong, stoic and had a head through the wall attitude. On the inside though…he was like a frail house of cards on a windy day. It was about a fifty-fifty chance if he turned cold or broke down. Well, actually, when he was out and about he would derealize and turn passive a hundred percent of the time. With you on the other hand, in the confinement of your own home, this massive, build man would turn into a weeping little boy. At first he didn’t know what to do with himself when his walls broke down in front of you. It was a feeling he wasn’t familiar with and the vulnerability made him feel small and weak, something he experienced regularly while he was still with hydra, something that he wasn’t allowed to show back then.
The same night he broke down in front of you for the first time you had your arms wrapped around him before his tears could even start to fall. Bucky’s mind went haywire the second your body touched his.
It was like he couldn’t comprehend how a touch could be this soft and warm, so void of anger or malicious intent.
It felt like it made him almost feel worse but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to rip himself away from you.
And then he got hooked.
He was always flirty with you and heavy on the PDA, constantly having his hand on your waist or leg or hell, even on your ass while his face was buried in your hair. He could touch you easily, shower you in physical affection in front of anyone who was unfortunate enough to hang out with you two at the same time.
When you touched him, you had to be alone because that was the time his guard went down. Only you were allowed to hear him sniffle and whimper and see him curl into a ball on your bed while he let you run your fingers through his hair. Bucky never talked about why he cried so you could only speculate if someone said something triggering or if last night’s nightmares tortured him throughout the day but you didn’t ask him about it. All you knew was that he needed your touch and you were not only happy to give him that, you took this job very seriously.
You’d tenderly catch his tear drops with your thumb while he leaned into your touch like it was his oxygen and held him in your arms when he basically folded himself in half to fit into them. But it wasn’t only when he was sad or overwhelmed that he needed your touch, actually it was allowed any time of the day as long as you two were alone. He appreciated every small brush of your hand when you gestured too much with your hands or tried to push past him in the narrow hallway and almost every time a small sound would escape him. He was just…addicted as he’d call it. Addicted to your soft hands that fit the equally soft touch.
He'd say he’s addicted while you knew the truth. The poor man was touch starved and hell, if you weren’t gonna be the one who’d give him what he so terribly needed.
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list of what i personally consider to be joel’s biggest “i forgot that i keep insisting i’m not your dad” moments:
-“well now i have to see it” / “i don’t want you to” just the tone in which he says this and the thing of being like i’m not going to stop this from happening but i’m going to make my disapproval known, very dad
-his face softening and posture opening up a little in ep1 when she’s like “but you know where to go? so we’re gonna be okay” because even though he’s pissed to be babysitting and thinks she’s more trouble than she’s worth, he is not immune to scared little kid
-also ep1, all of his annoyed eyerolling at ellie instantly respecting/listening to tess and not him
-the Single Silent Nod of Capitulation™️
-becoming increasingly able to sense when ellie is about to ask for a gun from a mile away
-becoming increasingly able to sense when ellie is about to ask him to explain something he doesn’t know jackshit about
-saying under his breath “just wait goddamn it” while jogging after her
-loud coffee slurp in response to being told it’s gross
-also, assuming a 14 y/o who grew up in military school would like coffee
-dad infodumping infused with mild griping (i.e. pre-pandemic air travel, gasoline, how fedra cleared the highways)
-“lookit”
-oH i ThouGht yOu weNt tO ScHooL
-“you’re gonna break your neck”/“slow down”/“what did i just say”
-impatiently telling someone to straighten up is very dad
-the white lie about everyone loving contractors and contractors being cool obv
-doing the “is there anything bad in here” / “just you” bit not once but twice. he really does cycle through the same like 6 weak-ass jokes
-asking someone else to navigate while driving and then stressing them out for not navigating well enough for his liking
-being able to guess her favorite astronaut, i am weeping
-laying down 3 ground rules and then pretty much immediately and continually letting ellie get away with breaking 2 out of 3
-starting to look over at her in surprise when she says “i don’t want to talk about it” because it’s the first time that’s happened and he can tell he’s touched on something that really bothers her, and you see him having to wrestle with the dad impulse to be concerned
-when ellie tries to get him not to go after the sniper; impatiently being like ugh come on that guy is not gonna shoot me he literally sucks (pedro’s read of this line always makes me laugh)
-and of course also the follow-up, when he sees he’s going to have to do better than that to convince her that everything will be fine and his tone softens and he asks her to trust him. the “no questions, just do it” to “do you trust me” pipeline bro, fuucckkk
-the wyoming scenes when they’re nearing jackson and joel’s losing his cool a little and acting kinda grumpy and agitated really remind me of when you have to run errands with your parent while they’re in a bad mood
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aluciahaz · 1 month
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may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.
Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!
once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3
oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)
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greed never stops
—vox x f!reader
—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage
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vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.
he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.
but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.
but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.
and you were the one he needed it from.
your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.
“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”
those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.
“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.
“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?
“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”
“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.
he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.
vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.
he just didn’t deserve it.
he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.
“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.
his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.
his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.
which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.
“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.
“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.
“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.
“such a good boy.”
those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.
he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.
sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.
it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.
it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.
“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.
vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.
but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.
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(i totally didnt forget to tag)
tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck
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intromortal · 12 days
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situationship!y.jw x reader
wc: 2,5k+
cw: smut, brat taming, oral (f receiving), teasing, overstimulation, no protection, creampie, a tiny bit of plot bc i can't shut up, jake is a loser, i think that's all!
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“Wonnie, please", you manage to whine out while knowing better than anyone that it’s not enough to get him moving to where you need him the most.
“You know better than giving me half-finished sentences, especially with the stunt you’ve pulled today doll”, he leans back on his knees with a playful smirk on his face.
You feel tears prickle your eyes at the humiliation while you debate whether it’s worth ignoring his request and waiting it out, even though you already know the answer.
Jungwon senses your tiny moment of hesitation and takes advantage of that, inching his fingers closer to your weeping hole.
“Mmh, seems I have to fuck it out of you then", he says as he pushes your matching panties aside and collects your juices on two of his fingers before pushing them in, doing his best not to stimulate your clit just like he knows you need him to, looking at the scene before him with his bottom lip between his teeth.
You immediately regret not giving him what he wants right away, Jungwon might be possessive, but he is also very, very patient.
You’re whining now, “I’m sorry, please, I need your tongue”.
“You’re a little too late on that baby, don’t you think?” he smiles down at you and coos at your pleading face, “gonna have you so dumb on my fingers, my tongue's all you’re gonna think about”.
You would be lying if you said that annoying Jungwon was not one of your favourite things to do ever since you two became friends.
Can you even call it that? You don’t think fucking behind the rest of your friend’s backs is the ideal definition of friendship, but if that’s all he’s willing to give you, then you won’t turn it down.
There's an uncertainty around your relationship that leaves you confused. You feel like he avoids the subject anytime you try to bring it up, but you yourself also don't really know what you want since you’ve never been the type to want anything serious anyway.
At least for now.
Sure he's extremely good-looking, but thinking about him sexually had not ever crossed your mind, let alone romantically.
Well, at least until the night you found yourself alone with him at your apartment after everyone else left and decided to talk back one time too many, pushing him to quite literally flip your world upside down. 
But still,
you just never cared about relationships. 
The first times you found yourself entangled in his bedsheets were never planned, just the result of heated gazes and lingering touches. You chalked up your longing for him to the feeling of newness and unfamiliarity, the Jungwon you know outside his bedroom seemingly a completely different person.
Then, as the months went by and the meet-ups started getting more frequent and planned, but the feelings stayed the same, you decided it just had to be that no one has ever made you cum as hard as Yang Jungwon has.
Just two friends fooling around.
So why did you feel so hurt by him suddenly rejecting your advances?
As desperate as it sounds, you had been trying your hardest to get his attention for the past few weeks in multiple ways, going as far as sending him pics with your expensive new lingerie set, only to get left on read.
Your confidence took a hit from this. Had Jungwon suddenly stopped finding you attractive? Was he seeing someone prettier? Though with the memories of his open-mouthed kisses all over and the hours he spent worshipping your body, you could not make any sense out of it.
Maybe that was just the way he fucked no matter who was under him, so passionate you would think it was love he was making to you, not just a hookup.
It's not like he's the only person you could fuck. Anyone would drop to your knees if you asked them to. 
And very desperate, kinda pathetic Jake was waiting for you, he had been for a long time.
Everyone in your friend group knows that he has his eyes on you, even though he has yet to make his move because of how inexperienced he is, scared he might not be good enough for someone like you. But you might just find it hot, you might just want to teach him how to pleasure you. 
That, or you were just irremediably horny after Jungwon left you hanging for so long.
That’s how you find yourself in your current position, Jake inviting you over to his and Jungwon’s shared apartment for a glass of wine after a night out with your friends which you spent very openly flirting with him (very much to Jay’s dismay, who just told you to take jake back to your dorm and get it over with, you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander to dungeon, curious about his reaction, only for him to ignore the comment completely).
You walk in with the two friends, Jake taking your jacket from you and pouring you a glass of wine while Jungwon bee-lined for his room. 
You got comfortable on their couch while making conversation with Jake, wondering why the man you’re trying to get out of your mind didn’t take up Heeseung’s offer to crash at his place, sensing where things were going between you and the blonde.
Jake was honestly shocked at your sudden attention, after so many years of pining after you he was about to give up hope. You clearly had known about his attraction for you for a while, so he wondered what suddenly changed. Not that he was complaining, he’d take anything you were willing to offer him.
You were so beautiful to him. He honestly struggled to believe you were real sometimes, like in this very moment, your makeup a bit smudged from the hours spent outside, your very short skirt riding up your plush thighs and the dazed look in your eyes from the alcohol. He thinks you might be the single most gorgeous being he has ever laid eyes on. 
So it’s not surprising that he has to excuse himself to the bathroom to sneakily take care of his raging hard-on before he comes in his pants from just looking at you like the little pathetic virgin he is. He absolutely cannot embarrass himself like that in front of you.
Jungwon walks out of his room, walking right in front of you to get to the kitchen, completely ignoring your existence. You’re very irritated by now and would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting some sort of reaction from him after months of intimacy.
He walks back with a water bottle in his hands, his biceps flexing when opening the tight cap and taking a gulp of it while keeping his eyes on you. Suddenly you feel very small under his watchful gaze, but he has yet to speak to you.
So you bite first.
“What do you want?", it’s more of a snarky remark than a question, but he doesn't show any annoyance to your sour tone. 
“Has the bitch boy cum his pants yet?”, he says while closing the bottle.
You try to hide how taken aback you are by his comment, but he knows your expressions better than anyone else.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb now, it's either that or he’s fucking his fist thinking about you in that bathroom hoping he’ll last longer in your cunt. Cute really, I’ll give him a few strokes max”.
You can’t help but get goosebumps after finally hearing his voice addressing you after so long, filthy words still sounding so angelic to your ears.
You did admit you have always liked annoying him.
“And how is that any of your business? Yang Jungwon”, you say while challenging him with eye contact.
He slightly rolls his eyes at that, a small smirk playing on his lips, showcasing his dimple.
He seems to think about what you just said, tilting his head to the side while looking at you, his bangs slightly covering his eyebrows. Unfortunately, you are all too familiar with the glint in his eyes.
“You’re right, that would be none of my business if it weren't for the fact that you spent this entire night desperately looking to rile me up while trying to get that little bitch to fuck you”. He speaks softly as he inches closer, towering over your sat figure on the couch, "you're trying way too hard, for your information", he adds as he gently tilts your head up with his fingers.
“Jake? Really? Can he please you as well as I do?”.
You're surprised to hear him talk about his best friend like that, but you already know the answer to that question as you close the gap between your lips.
 Not too long after that, you find yourself pushed against the door of Jungwon’s room, legs wrapped around his waist as he leaves wet open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbones, the blonde long forgotten.
You try to grind down on his very evident boner but he keeps your hips still with his strong arms.
“Behave”, he whispers sternly before moving his mouth to your ear and grazing it gently with his teeth.
He suddenly pulls away and shoves you onto his bed, towering over you and sliding his leg between your thighs.
“Wanted my attention? Don’t worry baby, you’ll get it alright”, he whispers while slowly removing your top, revealing the same lace bralette of that lingerie set you sent him pics of.
You suddenly feel embarrassed, he had ignored those texts, and he must have disliked them.
Your worries are revealed to be baseless when, as if reading your mind, Jungwon lets out a groan at the sight and takes one of your nipples in his mouth while his fingers toy with the other but decides to keep the thin material on your chest.
You try to sneak your hands behind your back to undo the claps, but he stops you. “Keep it on baby, fucked my fist so many times to those pics, wanted my attention so bad, didn’t you?”, he rasps between sucks, starting to kiss and lick down your navel. You let out a moan to that, the thought of Jungwon pleasuring himself too hot to handle, you think about asking him why he never replied, why he left you hanging for so long, but you hold your tongue, you're sure you’ve already ridiculed yourself enough in his eyes.
You have a suspicion he will go back to pretending you don’t exist after he has his way with you, but you push these thoughts to the back of your mind, choosing to focus on his hands flipping up your pathetic excuse of a skirt as his kisses that are slowly inching toward your thighs.
He takes his time with them, nibbling at them slightly, knowing he’s driving you absolutely insane.
He spends the next half hour denying any stimulation to your clit, using his other hand to keep your hip to the bed to stop you from chasing his fingers. 
“Wonnie please, do something, anything,” you say between sniffles. He suddenly relents and inches his face to your clothed cunt, removing his fingers and licking your clit through the fabric.
“Won I’m beg-“ he doesn’t let you finish this time. “Got you doll”, he whispers as he lowers your panties slightly and attaches his mouth to your cunt, nose bumping your clit every time he moves.
He’s now removing his mouth from your cunt, ignoring your protests as he inserts his fingers inside you immediately lowering his head again to take your clit in his mouth, sucking on it. 
You know you’re close and you're so afraid he’s just going to rip it away from you, nonetheless, you know that even if you try to lie he’ll be able to tell when you’re coming anyway, no one knowing the signs of your body language as well as he does.
“I’m close, please, Won, don’t take it away”, you sniffle as tears start to form again in your eyes. Jungwon fondly giggles at your dumb state as he guides you towards your high, helping you ride it as you come on his tongue with a drawn-out moan of his name.
“You taste so good baby, let Jake know who is making you cum”, he keeps slowly fucking his fingers inside you as he makes eye contact, his gaze dazed with need.
You’re so surprised he actually let you cum that you don’t realise he has gone back to lapping at you, moaning into your mound at how sweet you are. 
You try to pry him away, but he easily pins your arms down with one of his, his head coming up slightly to speak to you, “we are far from being done doll, you wanted my attention”, he whispers seductively at you “you’re gonna have to take it all”.
Jake doesn’t remember when he let lust take over him and slightly opened the door to peer in and doesn’t know how many times he’s blown a load. He suspects it to be even more than you have, and right now you’re a babbling mess under Jungwon, that’s finally fucking into you after god knows how long he spent with his head between your legs. All Jake knows is that there’s cum all over his hand and his cock is so sensitive and tears are streaking down his cheeks and he still wants to bury himself in you so bad he thinks he might die. 
He should be offended really, he should be one between your legs. Jake wants it to be him so fucking badly and feels so pathetic as his cock hardens in his hand once again.
He saw how Jungwon eyed the both of you during the night, and if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now. He feels grateful to even be able to listen and watch you two.
So he starts moving his hand once again, closing his eyes while trying to hold back any sound and imagines that those sweet sounds you’re making are reactions to his actions and not those of his housemate.
Jungwon knows the other male has been spying on you two, and he tries to ignore the way this information makes his cock twitch. He almost feels sorry for you, fucked so dumb you can barely form coherent sentences, only sweet babbles of his name leaving your mouth. He thinks it's the best thing he has ever heard. 
“Close doll, just a little longer”, he whispers fondly in your ear. You’ve been so good to him, and he feels his heart swell with pride and his cock twitch at the thought of Jake seeing you so sweet and compliant for him. 
He knows he's looking and knows he shouldn't find his pathetic friend fisting his cock to him fucking your tiny cute abused cunt so hot, but he does.
And it makes him cum so hard he's surprised at himself.
He slows down slightly before pulling out, careful not to let any of his seed slip out, fingering it back in despite your complaints and pulling your cute little panties up your hips to keep it there, finally letting himself meet Jake's gaze with a smirk on his face.
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a/n: wrote this on a whim and definitely don't love it but still thought i'd share. thank you rolling eyes in live jungwon for being my muse
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i23kazu · 8 months
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THEY WON'T STOP CALLING ME PAPA
characters. neuvillette x gn!reader genre. domestic romantic fluff. an. MORE melusine daddy content. please send help | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
the first time the melusines meet neuvillette, they're all overly formal.
"monsieur neuvillette! monsieur neuvillette!" "how may i assist you?"
over time, as the bond between the sweet melusines and neuvillette became stronger, neuvillette started helping the melusines more! they got more casual and it went from monsieur neuvillette, to neuvillette, to sir, and, well... to papa.
needless to say, neuvillette was taken aback. yes! it was adorably cute! so, so cute – that the innermost part of him wanted to squish the little melusine's cheeks.
it took him a while to get used to the melusine's addressing him with a parental title, though. after all.. they looked nothing like him. like funky little adopted alien children.
when he does get used to it, though – the melusines are so happy, they want to weep and cry of joy!
iara, a younger melusine, had run into trouble with treasure hoarders. the little girl was in tears, holding her bundles of bread – when a big strong man came to save her! blades of water whooshed around her, cocooning her in its arms, and gently setting her back down on the ground.
it was papa! papa was there to fight the bad guys for her, and all she could do was stand and watch in awe as neuvillette swiftly took down the bad guys, sending them scrambling in the direction they came.
"it's alright... papa's here. you're safe now, mon rayon de soleil." neuvillette picks her up, bread and all. iara settles down into papa's arms, her little heart bursting with joy when she hears him address himself with that.
when you first started dating neuvillette, the melusines addressed you by mama / papa / baba ( depending on your preference! )
at first you were confused. they were definitely not your children. you meant, you wouldn't mind, but you had known them for basically less than half a day and they were already forming parental attachments ??
but you didn't mind it after all, and even started rolling with it. guess you're now the parent of 300 melusines. congrats! achievement: first-time parent unlocked.
reblogs w/ tags & comments appreciated !!!
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki (send ask to be added to taglist)
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bontenspretty · 9 months
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if you wanna come, give my brother some /// cw include: mdni, fem!reader, bonten tl, threesome, unprotected sex
just thinking abt having a mind blowing threesome with the infamous haitani brothers. you went to a club in roppongi; you were just dancing away on the dance floor until you bumped into the eldest haitani. a playful smile creeped up on his features as you apologized for bumping into him. “it’s all good, sweetheart.” ran said with a grin. he extended his hand out, “wanna continue dancin’ with me?” he asked. you weren’t going to turn down a handsome man such as him so you nodded. he smiled, taking your hand and walking further into the dance floor. he grabbed ur hips as you were grinding ur ass against him. he was whispering sweet nothings in ur ear and you were giggling away.. simply buzzed from taking one too many shots. “heh, my brother is going to love you.” he whispered once more in ur ear, grabbing ur hips and grinding his harden length against ur ass. “you think so?” you giggled.. “mhm, i know so..wanna go meet him?” ran asked. you shook ur head. the next thing you know that ur on a large bed, ass up and face down into the pillows as the younger haitani slams his hips into ur ass. the party is still going on downstairs because you still hear the loud music. ran is sitting in a corner, watching everything go down. “told ya he’ll love you.” ran chuckled, stroking his cock as you whimpered into the sheets. “shit, she’s so fuckin’ tight!” rindou says, giving you the deepest and longest strokes. he cock was thick and fat.. filling you up to the brim. tears were running down ur face from him hitting ur spot repeatedly.. making you cum over and over again. the wet sounds of ur weeping cunt and ur moaning was music to ran’s ears. rindou grabs ur neck and picks you up. his chest againist ur back, pounding into you as he gives you sloppy kisses. his other hand rubbing circles on ur clit, making your thighs shake uncontrollably. ran smiles at the sight of you coming undone once again. he gets up and walks over to the bed, grabbing ur jaw and kissing you roughly. “i think it’s my turn to have some fun with you, yeah? getting tired of using my hand.” ran said, giving you a playful smile. they both fucked you until you went limp.. you woke up to a extremely sore body and two bonten executives laying on either side of you with their arms wrapped firmly around ur waist. you have no idea what you just gotten urself into but ur down for the ride. xoxo
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months
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okayokay so i was hoping you could write something for leon x chubby!reader? i swear there is not enough of that genre out there- i was thinking the reader could be feeling insecure about their weight and leon comes home to them upset on the couch :(( after some comforting and fluffy stuff he CARRIES reader to the bedroom. (as a chubby girl i fold for anyone who can carry me lol) any leon would work for this hes so precious i just wanna keep him safe and sound in my pocket ☹️🫶 anyways i tried to keep this broad enough for you to use your imagination,, i love you writing!! <3
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!chubby!reader
summary: you're feeling down about yourself and leon just can't have that
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), face sitting, features reader's weight insecurities and people being critical of her weight
word count: 3.6k
a/n: thanks for the request! i hope it was what you were looking for :) reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
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You didn’t expect today to be a good day, but now, in your position curled up and wallowing on the couch, you wish your intuition had been wrong. You lie on the plush cushions, face pressed against a pillow, limbs retracted and held close to your body. You weren’t crying, but it felt like every couple minutes your eyes began to sting with the threat of tears falling. You tried telling yourself to get a grip, to grow up and just move on. This shouldn’t still hurt you so much.
But, like always, beating yourself up didn’t do anything to improve your emotional state. You continue half-paying attention to the movie you put on. It was your comfort movie, one that you put on whenever you were down. Right now though, it wasn’t helping. Your partially unfocused eyes fixate on the screen and watch the lead actress move about. She looks good constantly, her outfits flatter her figure and flaunt her features. All you’re left thinking is why can’t I look like that?
The story playing out in front of you has a bitter taste this time and only serves to remind you of all the words you heard today. Whenever you were around your family for extended periods of time, the conversation moved in this direction. One moment you’d be laughing over a funny story or reminiscing about the past, and then the next, you were being recommended diets or invited to come to the gym in what was your relatives' version of subtlety. And no matter how many times it happened, it still hurt like it was the first.
Sometimes, Leon could spare you from it. When he came around, all the attention would be on him, a newcomer who they didn’t know so much about. But on days like today, when you had to endure their company on your own, it was bound to happen.
Leon didn’t even know he was protecting you with his mere presence. You’d never told him about the passive aggressive remarks or the whispers across the room. He had enough problems of his own to deal with. You didn’t want to pile on by weeping to him, sounding like some shitty after school special. So instead, you resigned yourself to this, sinking into your self-pity until you were distracted enough to forget about it until next time.
Not much more of your movie plays before you hear the familiar sound of Leon’s keys outside the door. He comes in, offering you a small smile as he takes his jacket off and kicks his boots aside. You straighten up a little bit but not too much. Normally, you’d try to conceal all of this from him, but you were just too worn down today.
He’d been out dealing with some last minute things for work before he got a little time off for a couple weeks. He walks behind the couch to the kitchen, taking a moment to ruffle your hair as he goes by.
“How’s your day going? You had to go to that thing with your family right? Everything went well?” he asks from the kitchen.
“Yeah. It was fine,” you respond simply, “How’s yours? Get everything done?”
“Mhm,” he hums. You couldn’t see him, but he was watching you. He could tell something was up. He takes a few swigs of his drink before heading to the couch and sitting down with you. Glancing over at you a few times, he observes the way you’re watching the movie. The slight frown on your lips, your uninterested eyes.
“Hey, c’mere,” he says gently, “I missed you today.”
With a gentle tug of your wrist, he guides you across the couch. You slide over on the seats so you’re leaned against his side looking up at him. Like always, you put your head on his chest, his fingers find their way to your head and stroke it lovingly. His other hand makes his way to your side, tenderly squeezing your waist, and in-turn, gripping the plump flesh there. You loved the touch, but right now, it further amplifies your self-consciousness. You’re painfully aware of the shape of your body at this moment.
“You feeling ok?” he asks softly.
You simply nod in response, but it’s like he can see the gears turning in your head, cranking out one bad thought after the next.
“C’mon, tell me what’s wrong, pretty girl,” he coos, dragging his thumb over your cheek.
He called you that a fair amount, but in your current state, it just grated on your already frayed nerve endings. You swallow around the lump forming in your throat. “Nothing’s wrong,” you reply.
Your answer doesn’t satisfy him though. He’s not convinced. Any other day you’d talk his ear off about how you couldn’t believe someone did this or how there was no way another said that. You’d be all over him too. It seemed like you could never get enough of kissing his face or nuzzling his neck. But today you were quiet. Quiet and stiff.
“I know it’s something, baby. You can tell me. There’s nothing in this world I’d judge you for,” he murmurs before kissing your forehead.
You really wanna tell him. It shouldn’t be hard. The rational part of your brain knew all he’d do was make you feel better. Give you some smooches, whisper compliments against your skin as his hands rub you all over. The other part of you though, the irrational, scared girl hidden inside, kept you anxious. She kept you believing that this was something you had to bear alone. Even the fact that you were insecure in the first place was embarrassing.
In a move that made you feel overwhelmingly pathetic, you just shake your head. You push your face against his chest and remain silent. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat helps a little to calm you, but you still can’t force the words out.
He only grows more concerned as you shy away. He thought you just didn’t feel good, maybe a little gloomy, maybe had a headache. But this was clearly something deeper. His arms tighten around you, rubbing your back.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks, “Talk to me. Breaks my heart seeing you sad.”
You can’t even stop the hot tears from sliding down your cheeks at this point. Sucking in a harsh breath, you cling to him. He sees you’re crying even though you’re quiet. He whispers a few more reassurances, trying to coax you into sharing what’s the matter.
“It’s just… do you… are you… are you attracted to me?” you choke out. Even the way you phrase it makes you wanna curl up and die.
He’s stunned. Honestly, that’s the last question he expected to hear between your soft gasps.
“What? Of course I am,” he says without a second thought.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to lie to me. I can take it,” you sob, keeping your face shielded against the muscles beneath his shirt.
“Yes I’m sure. Hey, hey,” he says. His tone drips with worry as he guides your face to look up at him, “Where’s this coming from, baby? Did I say something that made you think that?”
“N-no,” you cry, tears wetting his shirt by this point, “I- it’s just… I don’t…”
“Take a deep breath. It’s ok,” he whispers, “I just wanna know why you would be worried about that, babe?”
You follow his advice and get yourself calm enough that you can speak, but again, you can’t actually get the syllables out without losing it.
“Cause just look at me,” you weep and gesture at your figure.
“I am looking at you,” he says, still not understanding the issue.
“You’re telling me this is what you want?” you cry. You say it almost like an accusation. Like the word liar is on the tip of your tongue.
“Yes? I can’t help if you don’t tell me what the problem is, and I’m really not seeing a problem,” he says. He’s such a sweetheart. Doesn’t get defensive with you, doesn’t tell you to cool it. He’s understanding as ever, and it just makes you feel worse about your blow up.
“You really like me even though I’m chubby?” you finally blurt out.
His eyes soften when the words reach his ears. 
“Oh, baby…” he coos and pulls you onto his lap. It makes you uncomfortable at first, being on top of him, but he doesn’t even react to your weight on his thighs. “I love your body, every single part of it. You never need to worry about that.”
After that, everything comes spilling out. Every derogatory comment, every side eye, every single condescending smile. You ramble on about all of it through your tears. He nods along and shakes his head in disapproval when you tell him about your cousin’s birthday party when someone asked if you really needed a slice of cake. Or Christmas when your aunt cornered you to sell you on these diet shots her doctor prescribed her and how she could get you some easily.
“I never want you worrying about that kind of shit,” he tells you once it seems like your rant has come to a conclusion.
You sniffle and nod, burrowing into him further.
“I mean it. Cause for one, you're more than that. You’re sweet, so fucking sweet. You’re smart, funny. You’re you, and that’s what I love. I love talking to you, can’t get enough of your voice,” he murmurs as he kisses your cheeks and temple, “I notice all that before I’d ever notice whatever bullshit they tell you to feel bad about.”
“I know,” you whimper. Before you can say anything else, he keeps going.
“And you asked me if I’m attracted to you? That’s an easy answer, babe,” he says. He lifts you a little, shifting you on his lap so you’re straddling him. His hands squeeze your hips and rub up and down your sides. “You don’t understand how attracted to you I am. I cum harder jerking off while I think of you than I ever did fucking anyone else.”
You gaze down at him. Heat rushes through you at that admission. Your crying has come to a halt now as you hang onto each word of his.
“I mean, really honey? What wouldn’t I like?” he purrs, “You seriously believe I wouldn’t love how soft you are? All the curves I feel press up against me when you give me a hug or you wanna cuddle?”
His hands run along your skin with more teasing now.
“Your tummy? Fucking love it. Love how you get all squirmy when I rub and kiss it how you like,” he breathes as he tugs you forward so your front is against his. He kisses your lips softly. “Love feeling those round cheeks covered in tears and drool when you start losing it for me. And your thighs? I can’t get enough of ‘em clamped around my head when I’m eating your pussy. Fucking things squeeze me till I think I’m dreaming.”
Well, didn’t you feel stupid now. As Leon continues preaching about your body like he’s referencing a divine being, his hands roam your body, sending shivers up your spine. His fingers knead the flesh of your ass before coasting around to your tits and taking handfuls of them.
“I can only say so much, dolly. Think you should just let me show you how much I love it,” he breathes against the shell of your ear.
“Ok,” you agree. So simple it draws a small chuckle from his throat.
Without the slightest hesitation, he stands up, taking you with him. He hoists you up and doesn’t even let the smallest grunt slip from between his lips. You let out a tiny squeak which turns his chuckle to a full laugh.
“Leon…” you start with uncertainty.
“Nope. None of that,” he shushes you.
He boosts you up, getting you comfortable in his arms. Your legs lock around his waist just as he starts to move. Padding away from the couch, he takes you to the bedroom. He’s not straining himself at all. He glides through the doorway with you cradled against his abdomen like this was the most natural thing in the world. In all honesty, you weren’t too much for him in the slightest. All the training he did for his government job had prepared him to carry more weight than you.
He sets you down on the bed, crawling on top of you. His lips meet yours as he leans down and connects the two of you in a series of wet kisses. His hands glide beneath the fabric of your shirt, feeling your skin and the warmth of your body. After making out for a while more, he pulls back. He kneels above you, breathing heavily as he peels off his shirt. His toned abs and chest come into view. You’re still taking in the sight of him as he starts undoing his pants. To match him, you slowly begin to remove your own attire.
Soon enough, the both of you are nude. You expect him to get back on top of you and drill you into the bed until you’re seeing stars. But instead, he flops down next to you on the mattress, looking at you with a lopsided smile.
“You want me on top?” you ask as you begin to move yourself into position.
“I do. But not how you’re thinking.”
You pause, trying to figure out what he meant. It clicks in your mind suddenly as you're looking at his smug expression. He wanted you to sit on his face. He’d asked you to once or twice before, but you usually got out of it by playing up your neediness and acting like you needed his cock that very moment or you would explode.
There was no excuse that would spare you from this now though. You look him in the eyes and shake your head. His only response is to playfully nod at you and give your hips a little tug, urging you up his chest.
“Leon…” you whisper nervously. You wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
“Don’t give me that,” he teases. His tone transitions to a more genuine one as he says “Let me do this for you.”
You hesitate once more, but another light pull of your hips has you tentatively scooting forward on top of him. You brush by his chest and neck until you’re hovering above his head. He lets out a sigh just from feeling the heat of your thighs on either side of him. His elbows bend around your thighs, keeping you in position. He looks up at you and finds your nervous eyes to give you a comforting look.
“I’m gonna crush you,” you say as if to warn him.
“You better,” he responds.
And that’s all the talking he needs to do before pulling your hips down and mashing your cunt against his mouth. You gasp as you feel his tongue licking you up and down already. He groans when he tastes your slick. Diving in further, his mouth opens and closes as he pleasures you. He sucks on your clit and massages your entrance.
Your arm shoots out to hold onto the headboard for balance. Your hips involuntarily rock back and forth, smearing your arousal over his chin and lips. He keeps you in place for the most part, but he doesn’t restrain your movements. If anything, he devours you with increased fervor.
“That’s right, baby. Ride it,” he mumbles against your folds.
He tightens his grip a bit as he licks broad stripes over your pussy. His nose nudges your swollen bundle of nerves, ripping sharp whimpers from you. You roll your hips into the sensation. He nearly whines while feeling the fluid motion. He keeps lapping at you like it was the task he was born to perform.
Then you feel a thrum on your hip, his fingers tapping. You look down, at first worried he needed you to get off. But looking down, you find his hooded eyes gazing back at you and his index finger gesturing behind you.
You turn to look and see his cock, rock hard, flushed red, leaking a few drops of pre cum onto his abdomen.
“You see how attracted to you I am?” he asks.
You moan loud as he returns to eating you out like it’s his final action. Seeing him so worked up from merely pleasuring you drives you wild and has you gushing all over his chin. You whimper and grind down onto his mouth some more. Your head falls back, your chest heaving and bouncing as you accept the euphoric feeling below. You reach down and tug at his hair. He practically growls and continues to work you to the edge. He pays some special attention to your clit and fucks his tongue into you to finally get you there.
“Be a good girl and cum all over my face,” he commands between licks.
You release with a yelp. Your hips buck as your body spasms. Thighs tremble violently before tensing and pressing against his ears. He smirks against the velvety junction and keeps going through the high.
Once you start to come down, he releases you from his grip and gives you a firm smack on the ass. You slump over and crumple up next to him on the bed. His face is shimmering with your release. His fingers swipe across his chin, collecting your slick that had coated the skin there. He sticks the digits in his mouth and hums in satisfaction as he licks them clean.
“Could eat that pussy for hours, it tastes so fucking sweet,” he says as he starts moving towards you again.
Now, it’s actually time for him to crawl on top of you. He rocks his hips against you as he goes in for more kisses. His cock drags against the smooth skin of your thigh, the sticky tip sliding back and forth. His wet fingers hold your jaw and keep your lips puffed out for him to kiss.
While he kisses you more, he spreads your thighs and slots himself between your folds. He moves himself up and down through the wetness that had gathered.
“Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, “My gorgeous love doll.”
Teasing himself and you by gliding his tip over you a few more times, he then moves it down against your hole and enters you fully. He moans, his breath hitching as he sinks into your warm, wet embrace.
“Good girl. Squeeze around me just like that. So fucking tight,” he grunts.
He takes a moment to just feel you. Feel your walls pulsing around him. Feel your heated, squishy form against his firm one. But then he starts to move. He slowly works his shaft back. A long drawn out “fuck” leaves his mouth before he whispers a crisp “good god” while pressing back in.
He begins to pump into you with an even pace. He strokes nice and deep, keeping his movements consistent for you. You flutter around him and squirm slightly as he prods at your most sensitive spots. He leans back to look down at the spot where the two of you connect.
He watches his cock slide in and out of you, disappearing into your cunt time and time again. He’s obsessed with how your slick coats his shaft, dripping down to the base. His thumb comes to swipe over your clit quickly and give you some extra sparks of euphoria. You whine and arch your back at the touch.
“I know you have the perfect pussy. Made all for me,” he breathes, grinning as you shiver from the pleasure he inflicts upon you, “So responsive and sensitive just for me.”
You whimper and nod. Your hands claw at his back, digging into the muscles across his shoulders. He keeps slamming into you. His eyes roll back as his release builds. He mutters more praises and collapses on top of you again. He grinds and rolls himself into you rhythmically while you start to cling to him. It becomes harder to keep still as pressure mounts inside you, begging to burst.
“Wanna see my beautiful girl cum for me,” he mumbles while pressing sloppy kisses to your neck.
You pant and nod again. It was impending. All you needed was a few more thrusts. He swivels his hips, angling himself and swiping across more spots that drive you wild. It’s just a few moments later when your body seizes again and you let go with a loud cry. He can’t hold it either as he starts to shoot ropes of cum in you. You’re both shuddering, faces tense with absolute pleasure. He’s softly whimpering in your ear while your nails make deeper crescents on his shoulder blades.
He continues bucking into you, fucking his cum deeper. It’s almost like he can’t stop. It just feels too good. He can’t pull himself away even though the high is over and he’s already started to tumble down. You’re so blissed out that you don’t even complain of overstimulation, just let him go the few extra moments till he’s satisfied.
Once he is sated, he doesn’t pull out. He just stops moving his hips. His arms tighten around you, and he nestles his face in the crook of your neck where he can take in your scent with every breath.
“See what you do to me, baby?” he pants, “Wouldn’t change a thing about you. My girl, think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
634 notes · View notes
magicalgoblinz · 7 months
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One Thing
Summary: You did it. Cazador's dead and now... Astarion is finding himself working through some big emotions. Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Word Count: 3.5 k Warnings: General angst, eluding to physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. Possibly ooc Astarion. Quickly edited. Song Recommendation: Never Let Me Go + Florence and the Machine Author's Note: First thing I've ever written for Astarion but I get the feeling it won't be the last. I really genuinely just wanted to get this idea out of my brain even if it's a bit strange and not all that amazing haha.
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It had been a long day. Perhaps one of the longest you and your party had endured yet, or... at least it felt that way. It wasn't hard on your body like the goblin fight had been, nor had it been arcanely exhaustive like chasing that damned hag was. No, standing in the halls of Cazador's palace brought a different type of exhaustion. Passing through the spaces that your lover had once stalked attempting to go unseen by his master, seeing the sights of the spaces he was kept, smelling the decay, the putridness that no doubt lingered in the meals he was forced to partake in.
Every sight, smell, and sound you had come across weighed heavily on you. Even now as you sat in the plush comfort that was Elfsong Inn, freshly washed, the scents lingered in your nose and left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You pushed around the hastily prepared hash in your bowl, frown bared for everyone to see. Your thoughts were only for him. Every second of silence you could hear his sobs in that moment. The cries pulled from his very core, the kind of cries you could imagine he had dreamed of releasing for so long through every moment of torture he was subjected to. There was no way to imagine all of the atrocities he had suffered, yet somehow being left with nothing made every idea that flitted past your mind's eye so much worse.
You for so long had wished to weep for him. Weep for the time he had lost. Weep for the pain he must have felt in having to stand on the outside wondering if his family and friends ever thought of him again after he passed on. Weep for the crushed hopes for the future he had at one time had.
But what good would your tears do him now?
Cazador was dead.
And more importantly... Astarion was free.
So why did it all still feel so... excruciatingly heavy?
"Ts'ka --- eat and do not play. You need your strength for tomorrow." Lae'zel pushed from her lounging position on the floor.
"Have some heart, Lae'zel. It’s been a very difficult day." Wyll was quick to defend upon seeing the way your expression soured at the thought of eating. "Y/n, had to assist our resident vampire through some very hard things today. Including walking through where he had been kept prisoner. Imagine having to do the same with your lover." He said with a gesture towards Lae'zel.
"If I had a lover they would be able to care for themselves; it would be the first thing I looked for in a mate. A prowess to stay alive in battle like my own is the only thing that is truly attractive." Lae'zel said with a lifted chin.
Wyll's lips parted as if to say something more but began to shake his head, there was no fighting with La'zel. She didn't dig her heels in when it came to opinions, no her entire feet were buried. "Speaking of Astarion, where is he?" He eventually asked, changing the focus of the conversation.
"I believe he went for a bath." Shadowheart interjected, "He said something about not being able to stand having his beauty mired... you know how he is." She said, not lifting her eyes from her bowl with a small wave of her spoon that was held in delicate fingers.
Her saying this seemed to pull your eyes towards the door of the wash room. It had been a while since he left now that you thought about it. Your brows lowered a bit in thought; Astarion deserved his space right now, but you still couldn't help but want to hold his hand and not let it go after everything that had happened today. Maybe he wouldn't want that though, not with what you did today.
That look in his eyes...
Now that he had the time to actually think about what you did, what you talked him into doing; would he feel betrayed?
You had promised him you'd help him get that power he so desired, but when that chance came you changed your mind.
The idea of Astarion no longer trusting you hurt more than imagining him ending whatever it was the two of you had. The worries made your expression sullen even more, looking down at your bowl with a deeper pit growing in your stomach. Did you really want to find out?
Out of the blue, there is a light nudge to your arm. The little touch is enough to pull you back up from your descent into grieving something you hadn't even lost yet. With a glance to your right you find Karlach with a bottle outstretched to you. "I think we could all use a little drink tonight... but especially Astarion." She said warmly, "Perhaps you should see if he wants some?" She continued with a little jerk of her head towards the closed doors. Her tone made it all to clear that your inner turmoil was written out on your face for everyone to see.
A sigh escaped your throat as you debated on whether or not that was a good idea but the way Karlach began to lazily swing the bottle back and forth with her hand triggered something in your mind that made you reach out and take it in one smooth movement.
It couldn't hurt to check in on him?
Could it?
Astarion's head was rested back, hanging over the edge of the bath he sat in. The water had lost the majority of its warmth, and his hand had pruned but he made no movements to get out. Eyes transfixed on the dancing flames in the fireplace at the side of the room. Every twist of orange and lift of a spark made his mind lurch through another memory; they all seemed to be coming back to him now, one by one. His mind shuddered from the thought of a blade pressed into his skin, carving, etching, his skin becoming the canvas for a dastardly design that he wouldn't understand for years.
Funnily, the recollection of pain wasn't what bothered him. It was having to recall his own voice struggling not to escape his lips throughout the entire gut-wrenching experience that made his hand ball into a fist.
With a pop and crackle of the wood Astarion's memories would carry on to something else.
His ears ringing, echoing the silence of that tomb. Gods above that tomb. That year spent in silence. Those months spent starving. The way his hands bled from trying ever so desperately to escape. Over what...? A boy that he couldn't bear to steal the life away from.
Astarion took in a sharp breath as he tried to shake away the thought, as he sat up.
But still the memories continued to bleed through. The faces of all those people he had brought to Cazador, he could see them in his mind's eye. The memories of bedding some of them, cycling through his head in a complete sequence even though they were spread across centuries. A flash of a young human woman who excitedly spun in a brand new red dress that she was ever so excited to show off. The pale blue of a nervous elf man's eyes as they darted around the room the second Astarion approached. Seeing the tattoos and the scars spread across the back of a dwarven sailor who stretched after returning to the mainland after a long voyage. The shine of a coy tiefling woman's smile as she attempted to steal his coin purse from his pocket. So many lives, so many people. At what point did he begin to stop caring? Who was it that he pulled by the wrist back to a dreary room that made him start drifting away any time he had to become intimate? Or was it any of them at all?
His features twisted into an expression of disgust the second his mind started going down that path. There was no amount of Cazador being dead that made those memories better. In a snap his balled up hands lifted to rub his eyes in annoyance. If only Astarion could wash out his eyes and his mind and start anew. If only.
And to think... he had wanted this for so long.
He had dreamt about the day he'd be able to have the cathartic feeling of stabbing Cazador, again, and again, and again. And now that it had come and gone... he wished he could have kept going forever. Fuck, he wished he had. After everything Cazador had done to him, the bastard deserved so much worse than to bleed out on that cold floor. He deserved to suffer just as much as Astarion had, if not more.
Astarion couldn't help but wish that he had ignored everyone and continued the ritual as a perfect slap in the face to Cazador. Continued that ritual, so for the first time in all these years... he'd be safe. Entirely safe. And the loss of that made his chest ache, he was so close to crying all over again.
But then...
Tap, tap, tap
"Astarion," Your voice started from just beyond the doors. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just um... wanted to check in. Karlach thought you might need a drink."
There was you.
Astarion's head lifted from his hands as he took in a deep breath. He tried to shove all those emotions back down again, to put the cork back in the bottle before they could really bleed out into him properly. His gaze lingering on the door, lips unmoving.
"Didn't you hear him? If you complete the ritual, you'll be consumed, Astarion." You had said with a look of sincere terror in your eyes. The look wasn't foreign to him... but perhaps different? People had been scared of him before, oh people had been terrified once they realized what he was. But just how many people had been scared for him? That... he didn't know.
He couldn't remember his exact words in reply now, the tension and adrenaline leaving them in a silent part of his mind but what he did recall was the way you looked at him. It stung. It stung so much more than the little voice in the back of his mind screaming that you were breaking your promise.
You promised to help him ascend. You swore you would help him ascend. You said---
Gods that look. Astarion couldn’t shake it.
The way your eyes seemed to plead with him before you had even opened your mouth. Begging him to reconsider. "I know you think this will set you free, but it won't." Your voice was so gentle, but still so desperate. "This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador. Is that really what you want?"
You were right, as much as he hated it. You were always right.
But more than that. As he thought about it now, he recognized something that he hadn't in that moment...
Just outside the door you stood listening, hoping to hear something, anything. Your thumb fumbled with the cork of the bottle nervously. This was a bad idea wasn't it? He needed more time. This was too soon to try and come see him. Gods... what if he really did hate you for what you did. You started to shake your head, "...I'm going to take that as a no. I'll um..." you started lightly, trying not to have your worry show through in your words. "I'm sorry again for interrupting. I'll see you when you're finished, my darling."
Once more. You wanted to call him that one more time before he had a chance to break things off.
"Come in."
Your eyes couldn't help but widen ever so slightly, hand moving to the handle before cautiously pushing the door open and poking your head in. From this angle you could see Astarion's side profile, the good majority of the grime and blood from the day having been washed away, though his clothes that sat off to the side on a bench, were stained a deep red that would take ages to remove, if it ever came out at all. His eyes soon looked your way tiredly. As an instinct you quickly held up the bottle you had brought him, no words coming to follow it, they all seemed to have gone into hiding the second his eyes landed on you.
"Are you planning on bringing the bottle here my sweet, or to just... swing it around like an idiot?" He asked in a long drawn out way, a tone that felt like he was trying to maintain a sense of normalcy for you, but at this point in your adventure together the look in his eyes was more than enough to tell you that he was working through something.
You were entirely taken aback by the gentle name used, a little bit of relief seeping into your chest. "Y-you want me to come in?"
"Was that not what I said?"
Your lips parted, deciding not to speak just yet and instead closing the door behind you. "I'm sorry... I just didn't want to overstep with you, you know… washing and all." You said slowly, acting as if you weren’t both adults – who had on more than occasion – slept together.
Even now, even after seeing him at his lowest today, you were still trying to respect whatever boundaries he had. The thought made Astarion close his eyes and let out a soft laugh, "Darling, you've seen me naked before, it's fine." He assured, "Now...please, for the love of gore and everything soaked in blood, can you bring me that bottle."
There was no reluctance now, carrying yourself to his side with ease. As you approached you couldn't help but notice that his hair was still matted thick with blood in places. All this time he clearly had just been lost in his thoughts as much as you expected really. His hand reached up the second you drew near, taking the bottle from your hands greedily, popping the cork and taking a decidedly long drink. Not minding you at all as you reluctantly found a seat on the bench his clothes were rested upon.
The sight of his nose scrunching a bit from the taste of the wine made an ever so small smile tug at the corner of your mouth. It was hard not to recall him making that same face at the tiefling party not so long ago. Vinegar for wine. Would there be a day when the wine you brought him didn't elicit that involuntary response?
Astarion glanced at you from the corner of his eye, "You'd have made an excellent vampire, you know." He said with an amused little grin, all happy to see the confusion cover your features.
"Why is that?"
"Asking to come in, obviously." He joked loosely,
A small laugh left your lips as your eyes drifted to the floor, "I didn't realize that respecting people's privacy was so vampiresque."
"It's not, we're atrociously nosey by nature and well... it's just another fun hindrance to go against that nature I suppose." Astarion spoke in his normal moseying draw. 
"I see..."
There was a breadth of silence between the two of you. A silence that carried the heaviness of the day's events. You knew it needed to be said, but it didn't make it any easier to consider what the exact words were that needed saying. How to broach it? What if he didn’t want to talk about it at all and you misread the situation entirely? You kept glancing his way hoping to have it all come together in your mind like some sort of epiphany, yet he beat you to it.
"I'm not upset with you, darling. You don't have to keep looking at me like that." Astarion spoke suddenly with all the ease in the world.
"You're not?"
"Well,  perhaps I was a little at first. You did go back on your word, after all." Astarion pointed out, eyes now fixed on the bottle in his hand. “I think anyone might be a bit… sour after something like that.”
There was the guilt again. "Astarion... I'm sorry, I---"
"I don't want your apologies." He cut in sharply, finally turning his gaze to look your way.  Despite what his tone may have indicated, his eyes weren't as stern as they normally appeared when he was upset. No, they were instead ever so full of sadness.  "...I-I'm not angry with you. I swear it. But what I don't understand is why I don't feel any fucking better." Astarion said as his voice suddenly sounded so much more fragile. "I... I killed him. I got the revenge I've dreamed about for two-hundred fucking years. The same revenge I begged for the whole year I was locked in that horrid tomb." He hissed, "I took back my life and yet I... I feel like I didn't do enough."
He was cracking. That much you could see.
"I can't help but wonder if I had completed the ceremony if that would have been enough. Enough to rub it in his Gods damned face that I did it." Astarion admitted sternly, lifting his chin as his eyes stayed focused on the bottle still, "Watch this worm take away everything from him like he took everything from me." He mumbled out, the heat leaving his voice for a brief second as all that he was left with was glassy eyes.
"...I-I would have never had to fear anyone or anything ever again..." Astarion uttered through clenched teeth, tears finally breaking free and running down his cheeks one at a time. "...and now it's gone."
Wordlessly you got to your feet, taking a few steps forward to close the gap between you both, leaning down to wrap your arms around his neck in the most comforting hug you could possibly muster. His hand immediately finds your arm, holding it tight as for the second time in your journey, he begins to cry.
Silence seems to be what Astarion needed from you, wailing into the open air as everything he has stuffed away into that bottle comes pouring back out. No apologies. No consoling words. Just for you to hold him, to give him time. His head rests against yours almost as if to ensure that even now, after everything you both had been through, you couldn't see him cry. Perhaps the idea of you seeing it happen twice in a day was too much for him. Or perhaps there was still a festering feeling of weakness that would bubble up if he let you see him cry.
"Oh my sweet, sweet, Astarion." You mumbled holding him tighter than before, listening as his sobs grew softer over the passing moments. 
Waiting. Listening.
Once his frame had stopped shaking you finally raised your voice once more . "...if I could Astarion, I would take away all of the hurt in an instant... but I can't. And I wish you knew just how much it pains me to not be able to." You speak, parting your lips to continue on but pause as you feel a familiar shudder resonate through your mind. He was peering in, confirming the statement for himself it seemed. "The most I can do is promise you something..." you continued on, pretending like you weren't aware of poking around, you had nothing to hide for one key reason…
Gently you pulled back, running your hand from his neck to his chin to tilt his head up. Eyes looking over his tear stained cheeks and then to meet his own shimmering red eyes. "I promise you that, as long as I'm here you will never have to fear anything... or anyone again." You assured, thumbs brushing over his cheeks as you wipe away his remaining tears. “Because Astarion… I love you and… I will never let you go.”
The look that fills Astarion's eyes is something that you had only seen once before when you decided to hug him for the first time back in the Shadowlands. It was a look that spoke numbers towards just how frightening the unknown was for him. How terrifying it could be to have someone love you so truly and want nothing in return for the first time in his life.
You feel a rush of surprise followed by so overwhelming, your lips curl into the same smile you gave him then as you had reached out to wrap your arms around him to hold him tight…
You know the feeling even if he can’t say it yet.
Love.
Because that was the thing. Astarion had realized before this that you… well, you were the only good thing that he’s ever had. That he’d do just about anything to keep you safe and ensure that no one dare take you away from him. Yet, strangely he never once considered…
That he might mean just that much to you.
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End Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I'd really love to start writing for Astarion more so if you have any ideas send them over <3
875 notes · View notes
empresskylo · 6 months
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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 11 ⬅ch.10
➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | sexual assault implications/ptsd. blood. wc 4.1k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | this ch gave me butterflies ngl /:
𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“now, let’s get you outta here.” ghost said softly as he carried you out of the enemy building. his gentle tone made you want to weep—to forget everything that had happened between the two of you, but you knew you couldn’t. you could, however, forget it for the time being. 
ghost held you as he loaded you up in one of the trucks. you didn’t pay much attention to the person driving or your surroundings, all you could focus on was the terrible doom that was lingering in your chest when your thoughts went back to that feeling of abandonment. when you felt like they’d never reach you in time and you were left to the hands of the enemy.
ghost sat beside you in the truck, the side of his body against yours. you would have told him that it was okay and he didn’t have to watch over you, but you didn’t have the energy to voice anything. and you had a feeling ghost wouldn’t have obliged anyway. 
after being in the vehicle for a few minutes of silence, you finally felt the weight of your situation. your emotions weighed on your chest like a boulder. you sank into your seat and leaned against ghost on instinct, your head resting on his shoulder. he didn’t seem to mind. his gloved hand came out and rested on your knee, reminding you that you were safe and no longer alone. it was a physical reminder that he was there. 
ghost insisted on carrying you aboard the plane too. you could have argued, but you didn’t exactly trust your legs. 
soap was at your side the second ghost set you down in a seat of the plane. “jesus, thank god you’re okay,” he whispered. soap’s voice was far more erratic than usual. he held your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “how are ya feeling?” he asked, looking you up and down.
ghost sat across from you and tentatively watched the way you and johnny interacted. “i think i’ll be fine.” you attempted a halfhearted smile, but with the way soap’s face sank, you wondered what you actually looked like. 
“iaso,” laswell said making you look up. 
“kate, thank god,” you said unsteadily. a temporary feeling of guilt entered your system. you hadn’t even asked about laswell since being rescued.
you appraised her. she looked well. she still looked like herself. she didn’t appear to have any injuries at all. a despicable part of you was envious. 
“what did they do to you?” she asked, kneeling in front of you. 
“i…” your words faded. you knew you’d have to talk about it. and really, nothing they did was that bad, but your adrenaline was wearing thin and you knew your voice was going to shake if you spoke. 
“i think she just needs some time to come back to us,” soap said lightly to laswell. laswell nodded before putting a hand on your shoulder and giving you a warm look. “you did good out there, sergeant.” a small sense of relief filtered in through your thoughts at her praise—even though you didn’t think she meant it.
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it didn’t take long for the plane to land back at base, johnny talking to you the entire time, making sure you were truly okay. he didn't ask you to respond to anything he was saying, he simply filled the void with his soothing accent. you even felt your lips form a smile at one point. 
when you started to unbuckle and push yourself to stand, ghost’s hands were on you, scooping you back up into his arms. his hand rested on your lower back and the other under your knees. 
“you don’t have to carry me,” you said without much conviction. 
soap glanced over at the two of you then ducked his head and finished gathering his things before exiting on the ramp. you felt your face warm, wondering what soap was thinking about seeing your lieutenant carry you like this, especially after your pitiful confession to soap.
ghost didn’t reply to you as he walked down the loading dock and brought you in through the entrance closest to the infirmary. 
“no, please,” you said in panic, seeing where he was taking you. ghost’s eyes flickered down to look at you for the first time since he picked you up. his attention made your throat close. “can you just take me to my room?”
“you don’t wanna be examined?” his voice was rough as he spoke like he had been shouting. being a medic yourself, of course, you knew you should be examined. even though your injuries weren’t that bad, you could still have internal damage.
you shook your head. “no. i just want to lie down in peace. i don’t want to answer anyone else’s questions. at least not yet.”
ghost hesitated for a moment before he resignedly obliged. 
“god,” you groaned. “i hope my roommate isn’t back yet,” you mumbled absentmindedly. ghost could hear the whimper in your words. if she was back, that meant she was sure to hound you with questions and make you go to the infirmary. 
“hmm,” you heard ghost hum in reply. 
a few moments later, ghost placed you down on your bed— no, wait. this wasn’t your bed. “this isn’t my room,” you said dumbly, looking around. 
“i know. it’s mine,” he replied darkly. 
you felt your face heat. “w-why would you take me to your room?” you sat awkwardly on his bed as ghost clicked the light on. 
“no one will bother you this way,” he said matter-of-factly as if this was simply something he did all the time. 
“but–but where will you sleep?”
he shrugged. “doesn’t matter. not tired anyways.” he was still strung up on adrenaline, but he was definitely lying when he said he wasn’t tired. ghost felt beaten down. exhausted. like he would never catch a fucking break. 
he rubbed the back of his neck, his mask itching. ghost gave you one last look over before turning to leave the room, to give you your privacy to sleep, or do whatever else you needed to in order to recuperate. 
“wait, don’t leave me!” you said quietly but with clear panic laced in your voice. you had leaned over to grab ghost’s hand and you grunted in pain. you sat back on the bed to quickly disguise the anguish that covered your face at the sharp pain in your ribs. “don’t leave me with my own thoughts.” you twisted your hands on your lap, too embarrassed to look at him. 
ghost’s eyes traced your silhouette, clearly annoyed with the way you groaned in pain as you reached for him. he wanted desperately to drop you off in the infirmary.
“what kinda thoughts?” he asked, his tone stoic but with a hint of concern. 
it felt like that night you had a nightmare and ghost stayed with you even though he probably didn’t want to—but that couldn’t be further from the truth. the memory sent a wave of bashfulness through you. 
“oh, uhm.” you looked up as he approached you, standing right before you on the side of his bed. “i guess i’m just blaming myself.”
even though ghost still had his mask on, you could tell he raised an eyebrow. “it’s not your fault you n’ laswell got captured. no one—”
“no. not that. i guess i just… i feel like i don’t belong here.” you looked away from ghost, trying to will the tears to stay put. you were so sick of crying. “you, and soap—and even gaz—spent so long training me, and it’s like it all went out the door the moment i was put in any real danger. i should have been able to escape. to fight them off.” your eyes betrayed you and you quickly wiped the tears away “i should have been able to fight him—”
it was ghost’s turn to cut you off. he sat on the edge of your bed where your feet were, making the mattress dip in. “iaso,” he said, gaining your attention. his fingers itched to reach out and wipe away your tears.
“i like it better when you use my real name,” you said shyly. 
when ghost didn’t respond, you looked up. his eyes were pouring into yours; the way he was staring at you made you shift uncomfortably. “what?”
“nothin’,” he finally said. he had been debating telling you he preferred it when you called him simon too, but it got lost in his throat. 
“no one thinks less of you for what happened,” he said. 
you gave him a skeptical look, expecting him to laugh. “you don’t know that.”
“if any of ‘em do, i’ll be sure t’knock some sense into ‘em.”
you softly laughed, then winced in pain from the movement of your ribs. 
“you’re hurt,” he said tersely. 
“i’m fine.”
ghost stood from the bed. “i’m gonna go get someone t’take a look. i can ask soap—”
“no, wait. please don’t go.” you felt your body retract in on itself feeling so vulnerable in front of someone you had respected so much. that you still respected so much.
something behind ghost’s eyes sharpened as he looked back at you. he walked over to the side of the bed, inches away from you. “then you gotta let me look.” his words were deep and smokey.
you gave him a hesitant nod. he sat on the bed beside you, making the mattress sink down. his hands came to the hem of his shirt you were wearing and he slowly pulled it up over your head. you whimpered in discomfort as you extended your arms up. your ribs didn’t hurt quite this bad earlier, that’s how you knew the adrenaline was wearing thin. 
you were immediately flustered as you sat in your ripped shirt and tank top. reminders of what had happened— what had almost happened —fled back to you. 
ghost saw your apprehension and nudged you to take the ripped shirt off. he threw it to the floor and looked back at you. you now sat in only your black tank top, and you were glad for it. the shredded shirt just haunted you, reminding you of the way his knife felt cool against your skin and the ripping noise it made as he dragged it down the front of your shirt. 
ghost fingers gently gripped the hem of your tank top and edged it up, bringing you back to reality and out of your dark thoughts. his eyes flickered to yours to make sure you were okay with this. you were glad he had his gloves on—and so was he. if his skin had made contact with yours…
he shook the thoughts away and focused on what he was doing. you squinted in pain as he lifted your top up to your bra and breathed your name. your real name . if it wasn’t for the situation in which he said it, you would have swooned. 
ghost’s hands clenched where they gripped your shirt, making fists as he looked at your bruised rib cage. the bruising stretched across your whole abdomen, deep purple and red. “is it bad?” you asked. 
ghost took a breath in before lowering your shirt. “i’m gonna go back for that son of a bitch,” he growled. 
“what? no! you can’t go back. didn’t you say you killed everyone?”
ghost tried to calm himself by looking away from you, unable to focus as he looked at your cut-up face. “a couple got away. and if the man who did this to you was one of them… i don’t know if i can live with that.”
his eyes danced over to yours before he looked back down at his lap. “simon,” you breathed. you were exhausted. your eyes felt like they were burning the longer you kept them open. 
“i need you to wait here a second.” you gave him a worried look. “i’m jus’ gonna go get ya some ice. i’ll be right back.” he wanted to add ‘ i promise ’ at the end of his sentence but thought better of it. 
when ghost returned with an ice pack, you had slid under his blankets. he noticed you put his shirt back on and his chest tightened at the sight. 
“comfy now, are we?” 
“i was going to fight you on staying in your room. had all the talking points ready in my head and everything. but i can’t keep my eyes open,” you said through a yawn. your eyes drooped. 
he passed you the ice pack and you gave him a small smile. you bit your lip as you rested it over your ribs. it hurt at first, but the coldness was immediate relief. “thank you.”
you watched silently as ghost shifted on his feet, observing you for a moment, before uniting his boots and kicking them off. next was his tactical vest that he dropped on his desk. the metal of his belt clanked as he undid it. your eyes went wide. “what’re you doing?”
ghost smirked under his mask. “you told me not t’leave. you don’t think i wear all this to bed, now do ya?”
you swallowed and looked away. ghost removed his belt, gloves, and helmet. “care if i…” his words trailed away but his head gestured forward, implying he was asking permission to sit beside you on the bed.
of course, you two had shared a bed before, so how would this be any different? and you were the one making him stay. and it was his bed. you really had no room to say no.
you nodded and ghost clicked off the light, sending you both into darkness. you heard the ruffling of clothes and realized he was taking his mask off. the light from the hallway shone in through the crack of the door and illuminated a sliver of his face as he turned to you. he slid into the bed, above the covers, beside you and you desperately wished he’d turn the light back on. 
it was quiet for a few minutes and you were surprised it didn’t feel uncomfortable. “at least i have a reason for my nightmares now,” you joked. 
you could hear simon’s head turn on the pillow, his face now looking towards you. he didn’t say anything, but you got a feeling he was telepathically reprimanding you for saying that about yourself. 
“aren’t you hurt, too?” you whispered. even though you didn’t have to talk quietly, the darkness of the room made you anyway. 
“i’ll worry ‘bout it in the mornin’.”
you wanted to fight him on this but you didn’t have the energy. 
it couldn’t have been earlier than six at night and yet you fought to keep your eyes awake. finally, you fell into a restless sleep, simon’s arm warm where it rested against yours. 
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you awoke hours later and pried your eyes open. the room was still dark—it must have been one or two in the morning—and you could still sense simon beside you, his smell surrounding you: gunsmoke and mint. that’s when you tensed. simon must have shifted in his sleep because now he was on his side, his arm draped across your waist. your cheeks went red hot. 
you debated between pretending like you never woke up, letting him keep his arm on you, or asking him to move—you really had to pee. finally, you slowly sat up, his grip on you tightening. “s-simon,” you stuttered. he groaned in his sleep and you felt his hand that was draped across you grip your shirt protectively. your heartbeat kicked up speed. “simon,” you said again. 
that last attempt finally woke him from his slumber because he shifted his head to look up at you. he must have realized his arm was wrapped around you, but he made no effort to move it. you swallowed hard. “what is it?” he asked. your breath hitched in your throat at the deep baritone and rasp of his sleepy voice. holy shit , you didn’t think his voice could get any deeper than it already was, but you were wrong.
“i have to use the bathroom,” you said embarrassed. simon breathed in before rolling away from you, taking his arm with him. you felt your heartbeat steady, but you also pouted at the loss of contact. 
being a lieutenant had its perks. simon had his own bathroom. it was small and simple, but still, it was a private bathroom. you would have killed for a bathroom of your own. 
you slipped off the bed and scurried to the toilet, all too aware of his gaze following you. 
once you were finished, you stared at yourself in his dirty mirror. you gently lifted your— his —shirt and looked at your rib cage. even with the faint light in the bathroom, you could tell it was pretty bad. 
you startled at a soft knock at the door. obviously, it couldn’t be anyone but simon. you gulped before opening it, trying to step around him, assuming he had to use the bathroom next. but to your surprise, his arm stretched across the doorframe, caging you in. 
you looked up at him, your lips parted in shock, and he backed you up against his small sink. his hands were on your hips before you could say anything and he heaved you up and sat you on the counter of the sink.
you watched him in silent astonishment as he pulled out his first aid kit. he began digging through the bag and you saw him crack a very faint smile. “like what ya see?” he teased, his voice still groggy from sleep. 
your fists clenched as you looked at him. looked at him . his mask was off. you knew he had taken it off earlier, but you couldn’t really see him in the dark of his room. but now, in the bathroom, regardless of the poor lighting, you could really see his face. 
simon pulled out an antiseptic from the bag and looked directly at you. even though you were propped on the sink, he still towered above you. he ignored the way your eyes watched him, widened in shock. his hands softly stroked the side of your face where he began to clean the cut that sliced down your cheek. “shoulda taken care of this earlier,” he mumbled, annoyed with himself for letting you not only skip a visit to the infirmary but to let you go to bed with your face still sticky with dried blood.
you let him clean your face, his eyes obviously avoiding contact with your own. after he was done, he set the bag away. “you should let me look you over,” you said quietly. 
he shook his head as he looked at you. and jesus christ, every time he looked at you he took your breath away. he was so handsome. his hair was rather short, but still stuck up in odd places from sleep. he had scruff that covered some of the scars on his jaw. there was a clear scar that slit through his lip, you remember feeling it when he kissed you that night that felt so long ago. his eyes were a dark brown and his lashes were soft and light against the charcoal face paint he still had yet to wash off. 
“m’ not hurt,” he said. 
you jumped off the sink, making him take a step back, and your hands found his chest. he swallowed and his lips parted ever so slightly at your contact. “no? so this doesn’t hurt?” you asked knowingly as you pressed your hands up his chest. your small boost of confidence came from being a medical professional and wanting to mend simon, knowing he was hurt. and also a bit of sleep deprivation.
you studied his face, unable to look away, and knew he was holding back on wincing. “simon, just let me look,” you said defeated. 
he surprised you when he tore his short-sleeved shirt from his top half and let it hang in his hand. his torso was exposed to you in all its glory. you tried not to think about how toned he was as you examined his chest, the small amount of hair trailing down beneath his pants. you could see the way he was breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling in rigorous patterns. 
you saw old, faded scars marring his chest. then your eyes found the one lower on his torso, a scar from where you had sown him up weeks ago. then your eyes traced up higher and you saw fresh, bright red blood. there was a clear cut on his side, higher up towards his armpit. it wasn’t deep and had stopped bleeding, but he needed it cleaned. 
you grabbed for his med back and pulled out what you needed before ordering him to lift his arm so you could clean his cut. his eyes watched you intensely the entire time you worked. you felt your fingers waver momentarily—the combination of him shirtless, staring at you, and maskless was leaving you starstruck. 
you finally set everything back away and looked up at him, a bit awkward about what to do next. simon looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on the way you were swimming in his long-sleeved shirt. he took a step towards you and you mirrored him, backing into the sink. the light in the bathroom flickered. your hands gripped the counter on either side of you as you let simon edge in closer. he hunched over slightly, his head tilted, his eyes locked with yours. 
you held your breath as he moved, somewhere between wanting him to continue and wanting him to stop. simon’s hand reached up, desiring nothing more than to cup your face and pull your lips to meet his. but he refrained. he stretched his fingers in phantom pain and settled on tucking a stray hair behind your ear. he watched your throat bob as you gulped and fire blazed behind his eyes. 
he wanted to lean into you. to say he was sorry. to have both his hands all over you. to kiss you until you both lost your breath. 
you gazed up at him through your eyelashes, waiting for something to happen. “i was right,” he grunted. you raised an eyebrow at him. “it fuckin’ sucks lettin’ people get close, jus’ for them t’leave you.”
you matched his firey gaze. “simon…” you breathed, at a loss of what to say. so he let you in? he listened to you, at least somewhat, when you told him it was worth having people in your life who care about you. how it hurts like hell losing them, but you would gladly take all the pain that comes with loss if it means not being alone.  
and then he thought he lost you. and every fear he ever had, every attempt to keep people out so this specific situation wouldn’t happen, came to fruition. 
finally, simon stepped back and gave you a sideways look. you wished he wasn’t so beautiful under his mask, maybe then this would have been easier. 
you followed him back into his small quarters and obliged when his hand found the small of your back and pushed you towards his bed. he was only slightly worried you might have wanted to leave after this. 
you crawled back into your spot and watched as simon sat on top of the covers, his back against the wall, propped up as he got lost in his own thoughts. 
“you’re not going back to sleep?” you asked quietly. 
he didn’t look down at you as he spoke. “close your eyes,” was all he could muster. 
you tried to hold back any sense of rejection as your eyes fluttered closed, desperate for sleep.
after several minutes, you heard simon shift. he looked down at you finally, curled up in his bed, thinking you had fallen back to sleep already. you could feel his gaze on you, burning holes through you. he sighed before sinking down so his head was on his pillow and crossed his hands across his torso. his head turned sideways on the pillow and he couldn’t stop the half-hearted grin as he looked at you beside him. 
he hated that he was already on the verge of falling asleep again. this would be the second time he slept in a bed beside you. the first time being in your own bed after you had nightmares. and he hated— absolutely despised —the fact that this was going to also be the second time he slept peacefully and would wake fully rested. 
chapter 12 ➡
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eilaafterhours · 4 months
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Patience [Grim | Casper]
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Content: AFAB Reader, Light Dom/Sub, Blindfolds, Restraints, Men Crying, Cowgirl Position, Pet Names, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert
Pronouns: None (AFAB)
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Remember: I’ll block you if I catch your ageless or under age (not 18+) ass in my activity :)
This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.
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"How...how much longer must I remain like...this?"
The two of you had gotten into an argument about patience. He made the proclamation that he was leagues more patient than you, and instead of refuting him, you instead offered a challenge.  
You turned your attention to your partner, smiling at his flushed features. 
He was on your bed, spread wide on his knees. His arms were bound behind his back, and a blindfold hid his gaze. His entire body was coated in a thin layer of sweat, certain parts of his body flushed beautifully red.
Especially the head of his weeping cock.
You swiped the creamy slick away with your thumb, relishing in the way his hips bucked. 
"Ah, so needy..." You rested your clean hand on his cheek, "Open."
He did as he was told. Tilting his head up a bit, tongue lolling out. You placed your thumb on his tongue, and he closed around it immediately, sucking it clean.
"You cleaned it so good." You ran a hand through his hair, removing the blindfold in the process. "Hi there, pretty boy."
"S-sunshine..." His eyelids fluttered close, a curtain of white standing out against the deep red on his checks. "Please."
"Has your patience run thin, Casper?" His teeth caught his bottom lip, "Do you want me to help you?"
You moved to straddle him, sighing through your nose as the weight of his heavy cock settled against your stomach. 
The contact made him squirm a bit, "Ah—un...!"
You wedged your hand between your bodies, wrapping it firmly around his shaft. "Should I let you fuck my hand like this?" 
"Mmm..." You were sure that he was getting caught up in the fantasy, not even realizing that he had begun fucking your hand. 
You let him go for a bit, letting his moans go from soft and airy to restrained and from his throat. 
He was so close. 
You gave him a firm squeeze. 
He stopped moving. 
"So you're the only one who can get off? Naughty boy."
"I'm—fuck—sorry!" Tears slipped down his cheeks. 
"Ah, I've gone too far." You kissed them away. "And you've done so good for me."
He finally opened his eyes to look at you, "Have I?"
You nodded, giving him a soft kiss. "And now it's time for your reward."
You lifted your hips, lining yourself up, then lowered yourself on his cock. Both of you threw your heads back at the sudden heat and fullness. 
Very quickly did the two of you lose yourselves in the chase for ecstasy. He didn't last very long, but that didn't matter because the look on his face and the feeling of his cum filling you, being pushed in and out of you from you bouncing on his dick had you barreling into your own release. 
Once you had caught your breath, you undid the binds from around his arms. You squeaked as they immediately found your waist, dragging you down with him as he let his body go to exhaustion. You let him, resting your head on his chest as his chin nestled on the top of your head.
"So...who's got more patience than whom?" You asked.
"...I'd say it's a tie."
You shot up. "How is it a tie?"
"I may have been tested, but as the proctor, you gave into your lust and came very shortly after me." He smirked.
"Well, I wasn't being tested, so it doesn't matter."
"It does."
"Does not!"
"It does."
And it went like that for a short while longer until the sticky feeling between your legs became too uncomfortable and a bath was more important than who was right. 
Oh well, you'd just have to test him again. 
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:)
I don't have much to say, actually. This is my comeback, and it's in a new fandom, um….yeah.
Welp, enjoy!
Ko-Fi | Masterlist
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teamatsumu · 7 months
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kinktober 2023 -> day 7
orgasm denial - matsukawa issei x reader
word count: 873
warnings: regular smut warnings, daddy kink mentioned, slight degradation, swearing
kinktober masterlist
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You knew you deserved this. You had been teasing him all night after all. In some capacity, you were even looking forward to it. It had been a long time since you had acted out enough that it warranted a punishment from Issei. And now you realized that time had probably dulled things in your head. Because you had forgotten just how brutal Issei’s punishments could be. 
Two hours. It had been two hours of what felt like every emotion and sensation known to mankind coursing through your veins. You had been touched subtly, sweetly, like a ghost whispering against your skin, enough to make you shiver and get riled up, enough to make your nerves buzz in excitement. And you had also been touched roughly, hard, strong hands spanking and slapping at sensitive skin, nails scratching and fingers fucking so hard and fast into you that you had lost all semblance of sanity.
At this point, your vision was swimming. Partly from your tears, and partly from your head being pressed so hard into the mattress that it left you cross-eyed. Your ass was propped up in the air by his other hand, the one not holding your head down, but instead holding your hips up with a grip so bruising you were sure it would leave deep purple marks on you tomorrow morning. But fuck, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the next morning. You could only focus on one thing, and that was your weeping pussy stretched out over your boyfriend’s huge cock, drilled into submission and with no signs of stopping.
“I-Issei-” You gasped when he hit a particularly deep spot, another tear escaping from your eye and running over the bridge of your nose, only to fall on the sheets under your head. “Issei, plea-”
“No.” Came the nonchalant reply.
Your face scrunched up in disappointment, fingers twisting around the sheets as you laid still, taking the pounding you were getting like a good girl. You wanted, no needed, to cum so bad, but you couldn’t. Not until Issei allowed you to. You knew what would happen if you came without his permission. If this was already messing you up so bad, you couldn’t even imagine what he would do to you if you came without his approval.
You let yourself cry and moan as Issei kept fucking you slow and hard into the mattress, trying not to focus on how fucking good he felt or how close to the edge you were. You sighed when he draped himself over your back, his bare body providing such a welcome feeling against your shot nerves. He hummed into your shoulder, laying a soft kiss on the skin, such a stark contrast to the absolute havoc he was wreaking below your pelvis. 
“Issei…” You tried again, clenching around him. You were so overstimulated, you just had to beg. You knew from experience that it wouldn’t be long until you couldn’t hold back anymore, not if Issei continued to shove his cock into you at the same pace. 
“Stop asking, baby.” Came his reply, voice raspy against your ear, his breath hitting your skin enough to make you shiver. He thrusted hard and held himself there for a few seconds, letting you appreciate how wonderfully he stretched you out. Your jaw went slack.
“You know you don’t deserve to cum.” He continued, the hand on your head now tangling in your hair, tugging just a bit. “Not after that show you put on in front of my friends. You think they couldn’t tell that you were just tryna rile me up? They’re not stupid, you know? And neither am I.”
“‘M sorry.” You whimpered, barely forming coherent thoughts, but feeling fresh tears prick your eyes regardless. “‘M sorry, daddy. I was just-”
“Being a brat? Wanting attention? Acting like a whore?” His words didn’t sting, in fact they turned you on more and made you tighten around him, and you heard his sharp intake of breath.
“You don’t get anything tonight, babygirl.” He concluded, one hand slipping between your body and the bed to pat at your clit, making you yelp. You were so sensitive, even the slightest touch sent you spiraling. “Tonight, you’re gonna let daddy use your whore body for himself, and if I feel like you deserve to cum after that-” He disengaged from your body and straightened, hands gripping your hips in preparation, “then maybe I will consider it.”
Then, he began fucking you in earnest, pounding your limp body into the bed, reveling in the sounds of your mumbled ‘thank you’s, grateful just at the thought that maybe he would let you cum. He couldn’t help the little smirk that spread on his face at the sound, the notion that even his consideration for letting you cum sent you into a mumbled mess of grateful words, his cock throbbing inside your tight little cunt.
He had trained you well.
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Lord Husband (Chapter 10)
cregan stark x reader
A/N: I keep forgetting I exist. Sorry this is short oopsies
WORD COUNT: 982 words
series masterlist
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You hardly see him for weeks. Any new wife would expect her husband to impress his needs upon her frequently after the wedding night in hopes of creating an heir but you almost knew he wouldn’t. There’s something so strange about Cregan Stark; he’s empathetic. It’s not a trait you knew any man could hold. In reality, you should be pleased that your husband doesn’t wish to rape you but you’re more frustrated. He shall want for a son eventually, won’t he? This is only delaying the inevitable and you are a ‘get it over with’ kind of woman.
You arrive at his chambers with little more than a knock on the door. “Do you not wish for an heir, Lord Stark?”
“Good morning.” He murmurs, looking up from the papers on his desk.
“An heir? Is it your wish or not?” You say, disregarding his greeting.
He sighs, already stressed from reading over land disputes and not wishing to be stressed over his petulant wife. “Of course I want for a son.”
“You haven’t visited my chambers in weeks.”
“I did not think you wanted me to.” He looks at you, confused and a bit sorrowful.
“There is only one way to make a child.”
Gods he thinks you look so like a child when you stand there with such false assurance. It makes him feel wretched.
“You weeped the last time I took you to bed. I have been trying to give you time so that you might… recover?” The words don’t feel right to him. “I don’t want to cause you pain.”
“Lying with you caused me no feelings of importance.”
Cregan counts to ten in his head but only makes it to five. He then stands abruptly.
“You will watch your tone when you speak to me!” He says, fed up with your lack of decorum.
You gape at him like a fish. He went from so pitiful to angry so quickly.
“I have done all I can to make you comfortable, all I can to make you feel welcomed and at every turn, you insult me! You have spent your entire life as the spoilt daughter of the Queen and for that, I do not blame you but I can only be so lenient. You will no longer take liberties with how you speak to me. I am your husband and you will learn to treat me as such.” He breathes heavily after letting all his emotions go. “Even princesses don’t speak to their spouses in the way you speak to me.”
“I’m not your wife by choice. I didn’t want this.” You protest in justification of your own cruelty.
He scoffs. “And do you think I did?”
“You asked for my hand.”
“Her Grace offered me your hand.”
“You could’ve said no.”
“Is that truly what you think? Are you really so naive as to believe that? Everyone of our station marries for advantage. I am no different and neither are you.” Even when he shouted at you only moments ago, he never sounded as hateful as he does right now.
“And you’re happy with this standard?” You ask with level headed contemplation.
“Of course I’m not but it’s what is done.”
“It isn’t fair for you to fault me for wanting something more when you’re also unhappy with it… especially when you know it’s more difficult for women than men.” You desperately want him to understand you. You just want somebody to understand.
“We all make sacrifices for the people we love.” He says dutifully.
“I make the sacrifices while my brothers marry for love. How is that fair?”
“So you’re bitter? Prince Jacaerys will be king one day. That’s a much greater sacrifice than marrying for advantage.”
The tears prickle in your eyes. You should’ve known.
“At least he won’t be alone.”
You don’t want to argue anymore, or rather be scolded like a dumb child so you leave, striding back to your room.
You stare into the mirror when you arrive. Would your mother be disappointed by how disagreeable you are, how disobedient? Daemon wouldn’t. But you aren’t Daemon Targaryen. You’re just a girl, a girl that might ruin an alliance if you can’t make nice with your husband. Should you care? Your stepfather wouldn’t. Dragon riders don’t obey societal norms… but you do care… ever so slightly.
~~~
A voice at the door. Does he want to be let in only so he can say a hundred words that mean so little?
“Enter.”
Your husband, tall and strong walks into the room, reminding you of someone you used to know. He’s kind and brave like him.
“I should not have shouted at you. I just feel as though I’m not heard when I’m quiet but that is no justification.” He stares at the back of your head. You don’t turn to face him, looking out the window instead of at the mirror. This is your home now. He will become your home - he could become your home.
“If I walked out the door right now and never came back, would you try and stop me?” You aren’t angry about his shouting; you’re used to fire.
“No.”
“It would destroy the alliance. You could side with the Hightowers or simply just watch as they take my mother’s throne.”
“You could walk out that door, get on your dragon and never come back and I would keep my oath to the Queen.”
Gods he really is decent.
“Where would you go?” He asks like you haven’t just said you might run out on your marriage.
“Old Valyria.”
“You would die.”
“I would.”
“I’m not sorry for making things difficult for you but I acknowledge that I have.”
He smiles a bit woefully. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, princess.”
“Any woman in Westeros would consider herself lucky to be your wife.”
“Hmm… almost any it seems.”
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