#laurent go to bed

[hiddentrails7]

Henry: Hey do you wanna know a secret?

Frederick: No

Henry: Okay

Frederick:

Frederick: Do you smell smoke?

Henry: The secret is that your tent is on fire!

.

Robin: We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without?

Chrom: Tharja, probably.

.

Inigo: Okay, truth or dare?

Laurent: Truth

Inigo: How many hours have you slept this week?

Laurent: ...Dare.

Inigo: Go to bed.

Laurent: I don’t approve of this game.

.

Basilio: Here’s a fun Christmas idea: we’ll hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to fight whoever else is under it.

Lon'qu: ...Mistlefoe.

Basilio: Somebody's halls are getting DECKED!

.

Owain: I've decided that I'm a snack. People are just not hungry.

Brady, under his breath: I'm f*cking hungry.

Owain: What?

Brady: Nothing, shut up.

.

Chrom: Toss me the emblem.

[Christmas tree crashes next to Chrom]

Chrom: I said the EMBLEM!

Lissa: I thought you said Christmas tree!

Chrom: Why the fuck would I say Christmas tree?!

(Gonna try and post smaller, more frequent quotes)

[cpshit]

Auguste sleepwalked. Little Laurent would trail behind him giggling without stopping him or waking him up because he thought it was funny.

(Aleron, after the 3rd time that week his heir apparent burst through the door to his bedchamber rambling with incoherent urgency about the dangers of brocade sheep or something equally nonsensical, did not.)

[pdrrook]

nsfw q but does laurent ever take initiative in bed? like once past his unwillingness to overstep. granted ive not read all the extras but he seems like a pillow princess? i definitely get that he’s a straight up sub I hope I’m not coming off as trying to dunk on that, it’s very cool and cute, love that for our baby boy. is he just not into doing things of his own accord? is he the one the needs to be receiving seduction and expression of interest? im just trying to understand his vibe better.

Ayo in one of the extras you get to choose who leads, MC or him, and that will be the default for any spicy scenes that are interactive.

For misc snippets (spicy or not), it's usually either a request or what I feel like writing, so nothing about the written interactions (MC x RO) is completely canon if it doesn't suit your MC).

So, yup, he's not a pillow princess though defo because of the years he spent at the hospital where he had no control over what's happening to him he's big on consent (and he naturally follows directions well + is eager to please). As for the general vibe hm I'd say he's pretty adaptable, most of all the ROs actually are, tho him especially deeper in the relationship when he's no longer scared of overstepping.

[altruistic-meme]

up to almost 6k now :D still haven’t written the scene i’ve been excited for, somehow

[rainbenrry23]

Hello! How do you read fics and books at the same time? Because since I started to read fics 3 years ago, I have only read a book and I used to read more than 30 at least 🥲

Baby, it’s easy! I’m a gemini with ADHD

[muntitled]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hating Farleigh had never stopped him from using you

Content Warnings: Language, Fwb, Forbidden Relationship, Unedited, Dark Fic, Dark Humor, Coarse Jokes, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smoking, Weaponizing!Ollie, Smut (+18), Minors DNI, Slight CNC, Breeding, Neediness, Exhibition Kink, Grinding, Extreme Degradation, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Hate Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough sex, Messy Sex, Spitting, Orgasm Control, Dirty Talk, Choking

He'd definitely bully me if he was real, and I'd be in love with him

"It's not like we're actually going to eat anything. Mother only insists we all make use of the furniture," Venetia's rambling is incessant as she walks briskly into the dining hall. You know her irritation is the by-product of the undiagnosed anxiety that comes with being forced into an uncomfortable Dior slip on such short notice.

In all fairness, you weren't doing so well either. The dress you are currently wearing is just as suffocating and Venetia's Saint Laurent heels dig into your bone. Your outfit is a velvety, laced up nightmare.

A torture chamber.

You wholeheartedly wanted to crawl into your own bed and forget about everyone and everything. In fact, the only thing keeping you mildly excited for dinner with The Henrys happens to be-

"Gentlemen!" You exclaim, before cleverly adding, "And you've brought Farleigh with you."

You all congregate at the left side of the dinner table, while the Henrys and The Henrys wives all mill about the dinner party. There are'nt any rules to things like this. It's all so self explantory.

What was not all too self explantory was your seating positions. Venetia forces you to sit in between herself and a very vexed Farleigh.

"How interesting," Farleigh barely addresses you in his tired monotonous lilt, "You're almost, nearly, just about, decently dressed." You bristle as you lower your behind to your chair, all while Farleigh shoots you a tight-lipped smile.

"Wow!" Your words drip with sarcasm, promptly halting Farleigh from flirting with the man to his immediate left - one of the Henrys closeted sons, no doubt. "That almost, nearly, just about sounded like a compliment!" You exclaim before leaning over beside him in a daring display of confidence. You place your hand tentatively on his thigh before whispering, "Am I going to have to use my rape whistle?"

Farleigh's scoff sends a string of lightning shooting down your spine.

"You're such a slut, I think you'd enjoy probably enjoy it." His breath is hot against your cheek and would be considered vile.

It should be vile.

Why can't you bring yourself to find Farleigh as vile?

With his elbows lowered underneath the table like a good little gentleman, Farleigh lets his fingers crawl tentatively over your thigh.

The games are on.

Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour with your mind reeling at not only Farleigh's large warm palm finding its home on your ample thigh but his words.

They are in complete contrast to everything you two have experienced together thus far on your stay in Saltburn.

As his fingers inch their way towards your inner thigh you're absolutely breathless. All you can think about is your escapade in the pool the evening before.

Both Catton siblings had been immersed in a very Catton argument, leaving you and Farleigh to your own devices on the banks of the stone pool.

With both your arms leaning over the ledge of the pool and Farleigh pressed to your side, no one could barely tell that Farleigh already had two digits dipped inside your weeping cunt. His hand moved slowly and deftly, so as not to cause too much of a stir in the water and give you two away. And he did it all while leaning his free hand out of the pool, cradling his copy of Jane Eyre with his eyes glued on the pages.

"F-Fuck Farleigh, can I cum?" He sighed at your agitated state.

"Not until I'm finished with Chapter 18." He mumbled almost distractedly, as if your needy voice was something akin to a pesky fly interrupting his reading.

Chapter 18, as you'd probably guessed, had never ended.

His cousins were back from their argument and his fingers left your cunt just as quickly. You had both went back to pretending to hate each other and you were left to 'rub one out' in the safety of your room like some hormonal teenager.

You truly are furious with him.

"What's this I'm hearing about a rape whistle?" Felix pipes up from the other side of Farleigh, equally dressed up all spiffy for the Henry's "You didn't rape anyone, did you?"

Farleigh's response is more of a hiss, "Of course I didn't-"

"Surely there must be more savory topics of discussion at the dinner table other than rape?" Comes the quick mediation of Elsbeth, who sits at the head of the table, clutching her string of expensive pearls as if they weilded the power to rid her of all these insolent little kids.

"Of course there is," you exclaim before turning your head to smile at the presence beside Ventia, nestled quietly in his seat like a little pauper.

Farleigh's manicured fingernails sink half moons into the skin of your thigh, peeking up from the slit of your dress as you lean away from him and say, "You must be Oliver! It's a relief to see another commoner around here." It was so undeniably petty to weaponize Farleigh's greatest foe, but the vexation of not being made to cum the night before still hangs heavily on your shoulder. And at the end of the day, you really just were a petty bitch.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ollie!" Slightly leaning over Venetia, the boy looks pale. As if he was biting down on his words. God, his tongue must be riddled in scars.

"Pleasure to meet you." Oliver cooly mirrors the warm and inviting smile stretched across your face.

"Don't lean over me," Venetia mumbles, "I'm not a child."

Meanwhile, Farleigh scoffs once again. While he injects himself in your conversation, his hands move swiftly to cup your vagina, nearly raking a gasp out of your throat in the process. "She won't sleep with you, mate." his brown eyes are trained on Oliver's. "She's a slut but not that big of a slut."

The extreme degradation laced in Farleigh's voice is enough to have you nearly moan out in front of all your friends, their family, and all the bloody Henrys.

Farleigh knew exactly which buttons to push to have you melting catastrophically against his fingers. He knew what words could have you slipping into subspace and he knew how to get your cunt weeping.

"Jesus Christ, could we not do this right now?" Venetia asks, staring pointedly at her cousin, and not at the sight of your legs parting to further accomdate his lazy rubbing against your cunt.

"I'm sorry, Cousin," Farleigh replies, "but it's not my fault your best friend is a raging bitch."

A breathless chuckle escapes your clenched teeth, "I-I'm not a-"

"Yeah, I am so completely done with this conversation," Venitia says, before strangling the stem of her wine glass and chugging it down as if it was nothing but water.

You turn back to hiss into Farleigh's ear, "You're such an a-asshole-"

"Say that again but don't sound like you're on the verge of squirting on my fingers in the middle of dinner." His grin is shadowed by the dimness of crystal chandlier and all the little candles posted along the table. "This is what you get for being a bitch," he says, socasually it makes you break your resolve by shifting in your seat, to better grind your cunt against his fingers, even for a mere second.

It's almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

"Oh-ho!" He aims a guffaw at the sky, "You really are a needy little slut-"

"This dress is shit," you suddenly push yourself out of your chair, creating the minimal noise of wood scraping against the floors. Most eyes are on you and Farleigh slyly removes his hands from in between your thigh. He leans over the table, bringing his fingers to his lips before spreading them over his gums like you would cocaine.

"I have to go change." You say to Venetia, before promptly (and very rudely) bowing out of the dinner.

A few seconds later, you hear Farleigh mumble something about needing a smoke and your heart rattles wildly in its cage. His footsteps are brisk behind yours, and you can feel his eyes sinking into your figure.

While your feet carry you to your destination and you let your brain catch on, you're already sneaking into Farleigh's room.

"Ah! Trespasser!" He exclaims excitedly behind you, with his hands stuffed in his pocket.

"You're so fucking annoying!" Your complains barely escape your throat before he's attacking you in a sloppy, open mouth kiss. He steals the air right out of your lungs, until he's breathing for the both of you. Farleigh slips out of his Abercrombie suit blazer, discarding the material as if it truly meant nothing to him.

His hands are everywhere, with special interests in your breasts compressed tightly by the uncomfortable stitching of your dress.

"This dress..." you mumble distractedly.

"Fuck this dress." He says, and you wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps it was desperate of you to turn in haste. Lifting the ends of your hair to present the zipper to him.

"You look fucking ravenous." He admits in a grave whisper, with his lips grazing the side of your neck, "I wanna fucking eat you." He says, "I wanna be inside you."

"You have such a dirty mouth, Farleigh," the groan that escapes his throat as he zips down your dress lets you know that you may have found your way in.

As the dress spills around your heeled feet, followed by your lacey underwear, Farleigh reattaches his full lips to the skin of your back. "What did you say?" His voice is like the rough gravel encircling Saltburn and you let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch backwards against him. His hardness presses against your ass and your fingers weave their way into his curls.

"I said youre a dirty boy, Farleigh." He ruts against you, almost as a second thought. "A dirty fucking boy,"

"Fuck," his hands dig into your hips, rubbing you against him. All as he pleases. "Fucking, fuck. I'm not gonna cum like this-" He says suddenly before spinning you back around.

It is few and sparse moments when you're reminded just how much taller Farleigh is than you and eventide it happens, the wind is knocked out of you. Farleigh advances on you like a literal predator until you're forced to fall backwards on his bed.

He barely undoes the bowtie, and only a few buttons go loose enough to showcase the beautiful expanse of his chest.

"You're absolutely soaked aren't you?" He asks, hovering on the bed above you.

"I need to cum, Farleigh, please-" You knew it was the only way to get what you wanted. You had unashamedly resorted to begging for a man who hooked his nails into your hair, forcing you to sit upright as he parted your legs.

"Look at you," he whispers before cackling maniacally. "You're so stupidly wet, you filthy fucking girl-"

"O-oh fuck, Fuck Farleigh," Your try by all means to grind your cunt into the mattress but is doesn't happen.

"When are you going to learn that I own your orgasms?" He whispers, with his other hand furiously undoing the belt of his fitted pants. "You don't cum until I say. You don't touch yourself until I say. You don't even fucking think about cumming until I say-"

"You're such a big little baby," you spit back, "A big needy, little b-"

You're once again pushed backwards and Farleigh's mounting you with his leaking cock locked tight in his fist.

You automatically lift your legs to present your cunt to him and he groans at the sight.

"I'm going to cum inside of you." He promises.

"I want you too."

Farleigh's eyes are heavy as he slides himself inside you. He looks down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. A treasure trove.

"Fuck- I need you to carry on talking." Farleigh says before shutting his eyes tightly. "Fuck you feel so good-"

"You're doing so well, baby," his hips rut inside you, accidentally pushing his cock in way too deep, way too fast and you both hiss and moan. "Such a good boy," you say with your hair finding his own curls, "You're being such a good fucking boy, Farleigh-"

"Open your mouth," you comply robotically. Farleigh places his hands on the underside of your chin before tipping your head backwards. His chains dangle above you as you stick your tongue out and he spits directly into your mouth. "Such a slut," he says, "Such a filthy fucking good girl." His words have you grinding your cunt against his cock until soon, you're both on the precipice of cumming.

"F-Fuck-"

"Such a good girl," he whispers, with his breath ghosting yoir face and the sound of skin slapping against skin only grows louder and louder. "S-So fucking good-" He whispers over and over again until your cunt clenches around his cock, promting Farleigh's orgasm with a quickness.

His cum spilling inside you has you slipping unceremoniously into your own orgasm and Farleigh wails in both the pleasure of your cunt milking him dry, or your fingers still pulling his hair like crazy.

"Fuck!" He exclaims before slumping on the bed beside you, "Get your fingers out of my hair, you psycho-"

"You love it, though," there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and all Farleigh does is scoff before patting down the pockets of his pants.

"You give me endless reasons to smoke," he says, before tipping his head back, unknwongly leaning into your embrace as your fingers coil through his soft curls.

"You'd smoke anyway."

[azraeldoesnotdispute]

(Prefacing this with, this is a paint by numbers that I painted, but I did NOT draw the original. However, it looks so much like Laurent that I couldn’t help myself)

"Is this one to your satisfaction?" Damen jumps at Laurent's voice, turning to see his husband leaning casually against the door frame. He smiles at the person who'd painted the portrait as they bow to him. "Or do you wish to commission yet another?"

"None of them truly capture your beauty," Damen huffs, turning back to his scrutiny. It really is a nice picture, showing Laurent more relaxed than he is with most people, but, to Damen, it really doesn't show just how breathtaking his husband is in real life.

"You cannot keep commissioning portraits when you know you will never be happy with them," Laurent teases. Damen hears the door close as the artist leaves, then feels two arms snake around his waist. "Besides, where will we hang them all?"

Damen laughs. "I would build a palace just for them."

"I'm sure the people would love to hear their tax dollars are being put to good use." His voice is dry, but Damen can hear the undertone of laughter and fondness that Laurent reserves just for him. "Would you build me a garden of statues, as well?"

He turns, cupping Laurent's face and leaning down to kiss him. "I would build you an empire, if you wished it so."

Laurent hums. "I think we have a good one already, husband, and I do not need a new palace or portraits or a garden of statues." He leans in to kiss Damen, so sweetly that he feels as though his knees are going to collapse. "All I need is you."

"You will always have me. The world can burn and I will stay by your side until the end."

"So no more portraits?"

Damen laughs, "No more portraits," and pulls Laurent towards the bed.

[thebimbopalace]

ᡣ 𐭩 blurb: with your ‘lover’ going out of town on business, he leaves you under the watchful eye of his most trusted hitman toji fushiguro — who grinds your gears.

wc: 1.1k

ᡣ 𐭩 tags: mafia au, hitman!toji fushiguro x fem!reader, foul language, feminine pet names, allusions to sëxual encounters, reader's ‘lover’ referred to as ‘wallet’

authors note: inspired by a scene from the film scarface.

“fushiguro, make sure this girl is taken care of while i'm gone,” your ‘lovers’ scratchy voice instructs the man cloaked in black before you both. the man gives a curt nod to his boss as he stands straight with his hands clasped behind his back.

as you sit there, bored, your wallet comes over and gives a chaste kiss on your jawline as he warns you to behave while he’s gone for the next few days. you give him your signature sweet fake smile as he walks out the double oak doors leaving you and the dark-haired hitman alone.

silence. silence envelopes you both along with that tension. it seems nonexistent to the naked eye but, you and toji know all too well that this sexual tension is anything but new. that doesn’t stop you from ignoring his obvious hungry stares while scanning your body.

you stand from your seat bending down and fixing the strap of your saint-laurent heel before straightening your posture. “if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to retire for the night,” you speak politely to the man before you, wanting to get out of this stuffy tension-infested office.

“that’s so? alone?” toji teases with that stupid smirk gracing his oddly plump lips. you lock eyes with him, not breaking away from his irises. “well yes, who else would i bring to my bed?” you inquired knowing where this was going. the question you just asked opened the door for toji.

and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t walk through it.

“you’re lookin’ at ‘em,” and there it is. right on cue. you can’t even sneeze without this man making some kind of pass at you. not to say that you aren’t flattered. you recognize that toji is an attractive man. scratch that, a very attractive man. but, with you fucking his boss that means you’re basically off-limits to anyone. even to the infamous toji fushiguro.

“don’t get the wrong idea fushiguro,” the snark evident in your tone. a stark contrast to your modest demeanor towards your wallet's subordinates. toji doesn't flinch at the, dare he say, bitchy tone in your voice. this is expected from you. so predictable, so easy to tease. “call me toji, pretty girl,” toji drawls, that teasing lilt ever so present.

that fucking nickname. you hate it.

you hate the way it makes you feel. the slow spread of flush, making your skin sizzle with arousal, the beating of your heart knocking against your chest when he looks at you with his fiery indigo eyes blown with desire and longing. he's getting under your skin. and he relishes it. you swallow down the lust rearing its ugly head clearing your throat.

“fine . . toji, don’t get the wrong idea, i don’t fuck with the help,” you warn. you trying to remind toji of his place is cute to him. he knows who you are to his boss, you know who you are to his boss, and frankly . . . he doesn't give a fuck. “you look like you don’t fuck, period,” he mocks as he crosses his burly arms over his chest, cotton sleeves straining against his beefy biceps.

“excuse me?”

“ahh seems like those pretty ears don’t work either,” he chuckles as he takes one step closer to you. his expensive cologne rises to your nostrils making your mind all fuzzy. his hulking frame dwarfs yours as he invades your personal space creating a thick, viscous atmosphere simmering with heat around you both.

“what i said was you look like you don’t fuck. i mean c’mon, that hot body of yours hasn’t been fucked properly in a looong time, right?” as his eyes scan the tantalizing divots of your body so obviously.

you’re pissed. not only at his blatant lack of a filter but also that . . . he’s right. it has been a long time. but you’re not going to admit that to him of all people. “who or when i fuck is none of your business,” you spit with venom standing your ground, maintaining eye contact. he wants you to crack, to be shy in the presence of him and his nonsense. 

too bad for him.

he chuckles. that damned sound that makes your blood pressure skyrocket from the vibrations. “guess i was right.” his mitt of a hand extends as his calloused fingers tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “a shame really, a stunning beauty like you not getting the treatment she deserves,” clicking his tongue.

you scoff as you slap his hand away, “what do you know about treating anyone right?” the words leave your mouth like a river of molten lava, hoping to burn him with each word you utter. you scan his features to gauge his reaction and you find nothing. not a wince at the low blow you just dished out to him.

toji isn't going to let you see him sweat. you both are alike in that fashion. “touché, but i do know about pussy. and yours is probably in need of a good fuckin’. hmmm?” toji muses as his dark brow lifts, waiting for your answer. “wrong,” you lie. you and him both know you're lying. that's why, like clockwork, a chuckle escapes the back of his throat. he leans dangerously close to your face, lips a millimeter apart from yours.

“oh? bet if i slip my tongue in that begging cunt, she’ll start cryin’ for me," his seductive whisper brushes over your lips and kneads itself into your core, chipping away at the wall you thought you created between you two. “doubt that toji,” you firmly state, making sure to hide your ever-growing thirst from his closeness.

“yeah? come to my bed tonight, and we'll put that to the test," he challenges. a smug bastard is what he is. he truly expects you to say yes to his offer. to drop your guard, letting him finally have a taste of your saccharine slick that he'll happily lap up like a dog to a water bowl. unfortunately for him and maybe you, your pride is still fully intact.

you glare at him, voice raising an octave, “look, even if i were stranded, needy, begging for cock on a deserted island, you'd be the last thing i'd ever fuck.” and with that, you storm out the office heading down the hall towards your lavish bedroom without sparing him a glance. toji is left alone mulling over what just happened. your words said one thing but the appetite in your eyes said another. that passion, that fire, it's what keeps toji coming back.

you're normally so docile, polite even, to his boss and the other men who worked alongside him. but with toji, the real you came out. and for that, is why his interest is piqued.

“atta girl”

@shokosprincess @shaguro @sttoru @chromimis — *mwah*

2024 © thebimbopalace — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @ thebimbopalace

[chrisevansonly]

it’s a very small idea but something with charles carrying readers heels for her after going out! maybe they’ve gone to a meal or something💓💓💓

i’m gonna do a little blurb rn too…

“stupid shoes, why are you so pretty but hurt so bad”

charles laughed watching as you had begun to struggle down the sidewalk to his ferrari that sat a few blocks from the restaurant

“mon amour, are you regretting your shoe choice?”

“yes…but i refuse to tell you that you were right.”

you really were regretting the decision to wear your gorgeous saint laurent heels that charles had gifted to you for your birthday this year

“baby pause for a moment”

you stopped turning to stare at him, wincing ever so slightly

“char please i can’t stand around in these anymore…”

“i know, just give me a moment love”

he guided you backwards to sit on the edge of a raised flowerbed, kneeling down as his hands ran down your legs to take your heels off, instantly relief washing over you as your feet were free from the death grip they were just in

“oh that’s nice…”

normally charles would have brought a pair of flats for you but since you weren’t far from the car he’d let you walk barefoot the rest of the way, not worried about the pavement

“better?”

“much…thank you lovie”

a smile graced his lips as he leaned forward to kiss you gently

“you’re welcome, can’t have my girl i pain can we?”

taking your hand in his, your heels in the other he walked you to the car, helping you get in before handing you your shoes, a teasing glimmer in his eyes

“still not going to admit i was right?”

“in your dreams leclerc”

laughing as he closed the door, charles knew by the time you got home and into bed you’d admit he’d been right when telling you to avoid those heels, but for now, he was just happy to provide you a little bit of comfort, even if your feet were completely destroyed now.

[soulofapatrick]

Bleeding Hearts - Jasper Hale x Reader

Summary: Jasper finds you on the floor crying and bleeding and patches you up which leads to feelings being admitted

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: blood; cut otherwise fluff and a little angst

Notes: DW I’m still gonna be writing TLOU stories too

Y/N’s POV

I didn’t wanna go back to mine, the place feeling to cramped and closed off which I know would add to all the pent up frustration I’m currently feeling. It’s why I’ve ended up at the Cullen’s house, needing to be somewhere no one will judge me and hey maybe Jasper can use if freaky emotional control on me so I can stop feeling like I want to slam someones head into a table or scream. This week has been non-stop and I just need a fucking break, shoulders tense and heart racing as I let myself in, knowing they’ve got the fridge stocked for me to help myself to anything I want. 

I drop my rucksack with a hard thump, kicking my shoes off and throwing my jacket in the general direction of my bag before heading towards the fridge. I’m moving around the kitchen island too quickly as I feel my elbow connect with the  beautiful glass jar there and just watch it go crashing to the ground, realising a few expletives, “Ahhh! Fucking shitting fuck!” 

The sound of shattering glass grates against my ears as my frustration is turning into overstimulation, the frustration reaching a breaking point that I can’t deal with it anymore. The tears are welling up in my eyes as I sink to my knees to clean up the mess before any of the Cullens get home and see me in this state. It’s like I’m fighting a losing battle and everything is just falling apart around me, the frustration is just so overwhelming and I’m struggling to stop the tears as they stream down my cheeks rather embarrassingly. The Cullens don’t like to leave me home alone after what happened to Bella and Laurent when Bella was human. 

“Y/N?” My head flies up at the sound of a familiar southern drawl to see Jasper standing in the doorway. His usually golden eyes are a bright, almost glowing shade of red and his gaze is intense as they focus on my hands while his jaw pops audibly as if he’s trying to restrain himself. My hands are bleeding, the pain only registering with me as I see the fresh blood dripping down my palms and onto the floors, adding to the mess I’ve made with the jar. The frustration turns into hopelessness as I can’t even clean up without causing more problems, the world conspiring against me and hey, maybe Jasper could lose control and kill me. It’d be the least of my problems at the moment, “Leave the glass, I’ll clear it up. Let’s get you bandaged up.”

The honey blond vampire is swallowing thickly, as if swallowing his urge to give into the bloodlust, before he’s approaching me. He crosses the room in a few quick, human paced, steps to lean down and help me to my feet with his icy hand on my forearm. He’s leading me upstairs and down the very familiar hallway, past my room to the room at the end which is his. I don’t think I’ve actually been in his room in the year I’ve been friends with the Cullens. 

The walls are a soft grey colour, making me think back to him and Emmett running upstairs one day with cans of grey paint a few months into me knowing them all, and there’s a few painting on the walls. There’s photos around the room from different centuries he’s lived through. If I was in a better mood I think I would have laughed at it and teased him as it’s such an odd sense of humour and I like it. He also has a bed which surprises me as they’ve vampires, they don’t sleep. It’s large and comfortable with high quality linens and pillows, a cozy blanket draped at the foot of the bed and a few fuzzy pillows. He’s pushing me onto the bed, making me sit on the edge while he disappears to do whatever, I don’t mind as it gives me time to really take in every detail of his room. 

There’s a vintage dresser, looking like it has been carefully maintained and it just makes me think about how weird it must be to watch the world you were born into develop and change while you… you stay the same. It must be so scary and lonely, watching everything you knew change with only you knowing what it once was. 

Jasper’s returning, med kit in hand and I can feel my heart rate embarrassingly begin to race at the sight of him and I know he hears it as he’s got a small smile on his lips. He doesn’t say a word though, sitting next to me and raising an eyebrow as if to tell me to hold my hands out. I do just that, marvelling at how gentle and careful his touch is. His hands are cold and smooth against mine, the contract between us noticeable and somewhat soothing. 

Despite the stinging pain of the cuts the sensations of his touch is almost comforting and if find myself relaxing under his care. I can feel his fingers brushing against mine and there’s an undertone to intimacy in the way he tends to me. His touch almost hypnotic that I get lost in it, the tension almost palpable and I know he definitely feels it as he’s able to read emotions. I should be embarrassed about Jasper always being able to know exactly how I feel but right now I couldn’t care less because even without vampire abilities I can tell it’s reciprocated and the moment is a gentle one, just between us. 

He’s breaking the tension, southern drawl filled with heat and concern, “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s got you all worked up?” His eyes are fixed on mine, the red having disappeared so they’re that breathtaking golden colour again, like the colour of a sunset on a hot day. The concern in his tone is genuine and I think my heart jumps into my throat when he leans closer to me. 

“I-I really don’t know.” I reply softly, feeling stupid that I got so worked up over something that I don’t even know what it was. He’s leaning even closer, icy hands sliding up my shoulders around my shoulders as he pulls me into a hug that draws a sound of surprise from me. His embrace is warm and full of comfort despite how naturally icy cold his body is as it’s pressed to mine. The scent of the vanilla shampoo he uses on his wavy blond hair and the rich and musky scent that is just Jasper, makes me almost dizzy. 

Being so close to a vampire like this I feel completely safe and secure. His nose is buried in the crook of my neck and his cool breath against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Vampires have no need to breath but it just seems a force of habit for the Cullens as they’ve integrated themselves into mortal society. I know how hard this must be for him, controlling his bloodlust being so close to my jugular but I don’t feel scared in any way. The moment feels intimate and special, feeling an embarrassing surge of romantic attraction towards him as I want to stay in his arms forever. 

The small smile I feel against my neck lets me know he can sense my emotions and a gasp is ripped from my throat when those cold lips press to my neck before he’s pulling back. Those golden eyes have darkened a little, full of unmistakable desire and passion. My heart is trying to break through my ribcage when he moves his hands to my cheeks, pulling me forwards until those same lips are soft against mine. I’m caught off guard as I never though Jasper would actually make a move, given his reputation for not being able to control his lust of human blood yet, making the kiss somewhat overwhelming. 

The kiss is oh so gentle and calculated as if he’s holding back so he doesn’t hurt me, thumbs stroking my cheeks softly as my own fly to his chest, feeling the coolness of his skin and the hard muscles beneath his shirt. My whole body feels electrified, tingling with anticipation and a satisfaction that I’ve not felt kissing other boys. His lips are surprisingly soft and cool against mine, mouth opening slightly so he can slide his tongue over my bottom lip. I’m parting them for him, our tongues meeting and the passion intensifying in a flood of warmth and I’m sure if Jasper knows he’s using his powers or not as we lose ourselves in the moment. 

Hands move from my cheeks, one to grip my waist almost painfully and the other tangling in my hair as he tilts my head back to deepen the kiss even more. I’m pressing against his chest lightly and he loosens his grip on my hair so I pull back enough to gasp for air and he’s chuckles low and rich, southern drawl strong and going straight between my legs, “Sorry doll, I forgot you need to breathe.” 

“Jasper.” His name slips from my lips in a whine and his eyes darken even more, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He’s yanking me forwards again, lips crushing against mine and I’m melting into his embrace as I can feel how careful he’s being with me despite how much sexual tension and want there is between us. He’s shifting his body over me, the hands in my hair and on my back are laying me down. 

My body feels so alive with the comfortable weight of him above me as he moves his lips down my neck and sucking gentle hickeys into the skin. His lips trailing down my neck is a new sensation that has my hips raising and searching for some form of friction, drawing a low sound from him. It’s amazing, being able to finally express all these feelings I’ve had kept hidden for so long, letting his feel the love and want for him. My fingers running through his surprisingly soft hair, pulling him closer to me, wanting Jasper to be the only thing on my mind. 

Suddenly, a low sound escapes my lips and Jasper’s replying with a small laugh as his hand in my hair moves to cover my mouth as he whispers, “They’re back darlin’.” 

“Jazz,” I can’t stop the whine as he breaks away from me, letting me catch my breath and regain my composure before we go down and greet the rest of the Cullens. I feel so empty and longing and I don’t care if everyone hears with their vampire hearing when I grip the front of Jasper’s shirt and yank. It catches him off guard, a surprised sound rumbling in his throat as he tumbles on top of me again, arms catching himself before he hurts me, “Jazz.” 

“I know sweet girl, I know,” He coos softly, fingers brushing the stray strands away from my face, his gaze so loving it steals the air from my lungs and I’m flushing hot, “Come on, we gotta go talk to them.” 

“They can hear us.” I protest quietly and he’s chuckling fondly again, head falling to my shoulder. 

“There is glass and blood on the floor.” Jasper reminds me and I groan in protest but let him move away, watching him as he’s now standing beside the bed. His tall and lean figure towering over me and I should be scared but all I feel content. He runs a hand through his tousled blond hair, causing it to fall into a charmingly disheveled way across his forehead. His golden eyes are filled with tenderness and concern as he gazes down at me, taking in my flushed and flustered appearance, chiseled jaw set in a determined expression, as if he's ready to protect me from anything that might cause me harm. Despite his vampire nature, there is an undeniable warmth and humanity in his features that make you feel safe and loved.

He reaches down and helps me to my feet, placing a soft kiss to my forehead before holding my face in his hands and looking me in the eyes promising me he will always look out for me no matter what. A sense of comfort washes over me as he wraps me in a strong embrace that has me knows he means every single word and no matter what any of his family says he will always stay by my side. 

[threadsun]

Ayo it's Sleepy, here's a thought provoker: if the boys had access to a sharpie at any time, what would they write on you? And when? Basically I'm asking for your body writing headcanons lmao

You're so smart and sexy!!!!

Jack:

Most of the time, he writes sweet and slightly possessive things on you! Compliments, praise, "My Sunshine" is one that crops up a lot. Or he'll doodle little cute things on you like a sun or a smiley face. During sex, though? He'll tie you up and write the most degrading things on you. Anything to remind you that you're his slutty little sundrop~

Favourites: "My Sunshine" on your face, "mine" on your thighs, "filthy slut" on your chest

Ian:

Ever since y'all were in school together, he developed a habit of doodling on your arms when he's bored. If you let him write on you during sex, though... well, you're going to get an endearing mix of compliments and romantic stuff. Unless you ask him to get mean with it, he'll indulge himself in adoring you!

Favourites: "gorgeous" on your cheek, "beloved" on your wrist, "forever" on the back of your hand

Shaun:

He likes to write on you when you're tied up, mostly because he enjoys watching you helplessly try to figure out what he's writing as he's doing it. He likes to write places you can't see, and he'll only show you pictures of it afterwards. His writing ranges from silly to sweet to very very mean~

Favourites: "dork" on your forehead, "kick me" on your ass, "horny bitch" on your abdomen

Nick:

It's one of those things he's used to, and sort of likes to get creative with when he can. Sure, he could do some normal body writing to get you in the mood, but... really, he wants to try out new things with you! Something that'll keep you both interested and in the mood! So he'll get a little weird with it, but in a fun way~

Favourites: "cock magnet" on your lower back, "what dreams are made of" on your collar bone, a womb tattoo over your pelvis

Joseph:

He's too sweet to get degrading with it. And honestly, it takes a lot to even convince him that he can write on you because he doesn't think you'll want his bad handwriting on your body. But once you convince him? It's a lot of hearts mostly, especially since he'll keep trying until he draws a perfect one. Plus some compliments, of course!

Favourites: hearts all over your body, his name on your inner thighs, "perfect" all over your body

Jean:

Degradation, all the way through! This man wants your body covered in reminders that you're just his personal whore and you belong to him. He likes to throw the odd straight up insult in there too, just to make sure you're feeling thoroughly terrible about yourself. Anything to make you more vulnerable to him~

Favourites: "property of Jean Laurent" on your forehead, "pathetic" on your stomach, "useless slut" on your lower back

Rory:

Mostly he writes cute petnames whenever he's got a pen in his hands. But when you two are in bed together, he'll write the filthiest things on you. Specifically making sure to only write it in places where it's visible when you're naked. He doesn't want anyone else reading the things he writes on you.

Favourites: "sweetheart" on your hand, "delicious" on your thighs, "Rory's" on your ass

Barry:

He likes to write instructions on you! Just in case anyone else happens to see, he wants them to know exactly what to do to you. He loves to cover your whole body in writing, until he runs out of space to write more. He's happy to let others write on you too, of course! Anything to keep customers happy~

Favourites: "cum here" with an arrow pointing to all your holes, "hurt me" on your chest, "free use" on your face

Bo:

He can't write :)

Elias:

Body writing is something that feels really sweet and intimate to him. He's another one who only goes with compliments when left to his own devices. Though... his compliments can get a little raunchy if you bring a marker into the bedroom~ He just wants you to have reminders of his love all over your skin!

Favourites: "my beloved" on your wrist, his name over your heart, "tempting" on your ass

Taylor:

He writes a lot of notes and stuff on his own hands and arms, so when he wants you to remember something then he'll write it on yours. But he's also very horny for body writing! Usually he'll try to keep it romantic and sweet, but the moment you indicate you're okay with it, he'll pull out the more degrading stuff~

Favourites: "the hottest" on your forearm, "use me" on your stomach, "fuckdoll" on your chest

[aryriddle]

It breaks my heart that, even if Damen and Laurent have the longest, most peaceful and prosperous reign in history, they’re not immune to the passing of time.

I imagine Damen will be the first to go, peacefully in his bed after he’s too weak to carry on, holding Laurent’s hand and smiling because his heart is so full of love and joy.

I imagine Laurent (old and gray and still so beautiful) will be solemn, and arrange a funeral fit for a god. He will then quietly focus on work, tending to the kingdom/empire’s affairs, ensuring all will be well, tidying up unfinished business.

I imagine he will retire to his empty bed one night, and not rise in the morning. He will go peacefully in his sleep, his hand resting on Damen’s empty side of the bed, with a smile on his face because his husband and his brother were waiting for him.

[senqv]

LOVEGAME !

blue lock ! fanfic featuring : michael kaiser x gn! reader

warning(s) : lots of mentions of feminine stuff like dresses & makeup but still can be read as gender neutral ( hopefully ??? ) , kisses <3 , a bittt suggestive , loserboy kaiser , established relationship , no proofread so prolly some spelling / grammar mistakes , lmk if there are more !

kaiser as the rich football star who loves spoiling his lover. he brings in around 2 million usd annually, so just say the word and he will deliver it. anything from givenchy to giambattista valli; or even the custom-made garments from paris couture week starting from the tens of thousands to several millions.

he’s also quite accustomed to playing around with makeup, loves it when you offer to do his eyeliner for him <3 but really, what he enjoys the most is dressing you up all pretty just for him !!

“gorgeous,” kaiser whispers, lithe fingers going down the side of the navy satin gown from saint laurent, teasingly flitting just below the hemline. his fingers press down onto your thigh at the way your makeup preoccupies you instead of paying attention to him, tilting his head to the side as he meets your gaze in the vanity mirror. “just a sec,” you continue to apply your mascara without a care in the world, oblivious to the impatient taps of your boyfriend’s fingers. he leans forward with a sigh, hands caged at either side of your frame.

kaiser frowns in displeasure at your refusal to spare him even a glance, and you can tell he’s getting restless at the way his fingers drum aggressively against the table. “kaiser,” it’s almost funny how fast he looks up at the call of your voice. “sit behind on the bed or something, please ? you’re distracting me.” you say, leaning even more forward to properly apply the opalescent highlights on your eyelid, disregarding the way your boyfriend’s jaw nearly drops at the sheer audacity ?? how dare anyone, much less his own lover, disregard his presence ????

kaiser’s frown deepens as he opens his mouth to protest, but decides against it as he begrudgingly sits on the side of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. he crosses his arms, biceps flexing visibly below his rolled sleeves that were just a tad too tight. from the corner of his eye, he can see you uncapping a tube, recognising it as the rouge hérmes lipstick he gifted to you not too long ago. the wine red sheen makes your lips especially ravishing, and he has to tear his gaze away before he gives in to his desires to kiss you until you can’t think. not after that stunt you pulled !!

kaiser purposely avoids your gaze as you walk towards him, glancing to the side and keeping his arms crossed as you climb into his lap. “kaiser,” your voice is a teasing lilt, and kaiser turns his head away from you, powered by pure spite and pettiness. “michael,” voice dropping to a saccharine sweetness, and usually this would do the trick. but kaiser seems hellbent on teaching you a lesson today. and so he continues to glance away from you, bottom lip jutting out adorably.

your lips curve down into a pout, pulling out all the stops. your pointer tips his chin towards you, sultry voice akin to dripping honey as you call out a “darling ?” you can see the way his adam’s apple bobs as heat rises from his neck, flushed face and all. finally, he turns towards you, still futilely trying to evade your gaze.

“ja? mmh-!” he is cut off by the press of your lips against his, jolting from the sudden kiss. you don’t think you’ve ever heard kaiser whimper as he shakily snakes his hands around your waist and behind your head, melting further into you. his tongue licks at your lips as you part breathlessly, desperate for more. his lips are stained a delicious red, and you’re sure that your mouth, too, is awfully smudged by that gorgeous carmine. his chest rises up and down unsteadily, pupils dilated and blown wide.

“you-“ you pay no mind at his protests, swiping on another layer of lipstick as you end whatever he was about to say with another kiss on the corner of his lips. then on his cheek; down his neck, the tip of his nose; he shivers at every touch of your lips, and if someone were to walk in, they’d think you were bullying the mighty emperor with the way he was shaking, a wild flush on his face.

you giggle as you admire your finished masterpiece, red kiss marks littered all over his face and down the dip of his half-buttoned shirt. he looks dazed, sharp blue eyes unusually cloudy. you take a glance down at his patek philippe 1915 watch. “hey, we’re gonna be late.” suddenly, you’re hauled back onto his lap, his grip on your waist tighter than ever. his gaze is electrifying, staring with a certain vivacity you’ve only seen him have on field. “again,” he whispers, eyes lidded as he brushes his lips against yours. “wait- kaiser!”

he is practically feral, leaning down and bending you back that you would fall if it wasn’t for his unwavering grip at your waist. a kiss at the side of your lips, against your mouth again, and repeat. “mmh- enough, ‘s too much-” you whine tiredly, hitting his back in vain. “too much? ” a mocking smile forms on his face. “im just getting started.”

[meidebenne]

top 3 laurent is 3 seconds away from turning damianos into bottomianos scenes from the books?

HELLO DEAR ANON!!! 💖💖💖 I normally don’t have the poster’s temperament but this is a topic I hold dear to my heart and have decided I am willing to investigate.

What I have discovered is that it all starts with the fact that Laurent has two eyes…

NUMBER THREE: POST-ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT MEETING

Laurent has escaped a high adrenaline situation and is now seated slouched on the throne, a powerful aphrodisiac in his system, gazing at Damen so intensely that Damen starts wondering if Laurent is checking him out: 

I do believe Damen’s slut senses were warning him that Laurent wanted to take him right there on the floor. The circumstantial evidence is pretty damning that Damen barely escaped Laurent’s clutches in this scene with his First Night intact. 

NUMBER TWO: RAVENEL

Laurent at last has his mortal enemy exactly where he wants him, in a four-poster bed with soft-lit candles romantically arranged around them. He sets up the ideal conditions to ravish Damen asking him to hold still and goes wild: 

We all know how matters progress. It is fair to say that I believe when a man climbs on top of another man and starts humping him into the sheets his thoughts have taken him in a certain direction… 

By this point in the story Laurent also reveals his true romantic predilections. He wanted to hold Damen’s hands and call it making love. 

NUMBER ONE: MELLOS

It couldn’t be any other moment but their last night together in Mellos. 

I can't add much to this one because it's self-evident how much they want each other. Laurent thinks he's going to die. He spends their night together trying to have as much as he can with Damen. It really is the ultimate almost moment for them which brings me to…

BONUS: TOP ONE MOMENT BOTTOMIANOS WAS DOOMED

Laurent was twenty years old, madly in love and preparing to die for the love of his life. He lasted two seconds after Damen said that to him. RIP.

[nu11lar]

𝓢 uggestive content ◞ mdni !

"stick out your tounge," his thumb tapped your chin gently, index finger raising your head up slightly to meet his eyes. the afterglow from constantly kissing your lips awakened something to rindou, his bony and slender fingers now cupping your puffed cheeks. the cold metal of his rings made your body jolt and shiver from the sudden movement, giving your cheeks a light squeeze, your lips puckered up before you slightly stuck your tounge out. revealing the tip of your tounge to his view as he amusingly chuckled,"more, stick it out more." his voice was firm but you could hear just a little amount of gentleness being present to his tone.

you obeyed, sticking out your tounge more until your mouth was fully agape,"good girl." licking his lips, he harshly (almost aggressively) smashed his lips against yours in a hungry manner. even though he already suffocated you with his previous kisses, it never failed him to become more eager and anticipated to give another taste of your sweet lips. with a surprised moan he pushes your body against the stiff mattress of the bed, his hands finally having the chance to touch you all over again.

he absolutely adores the way you just helplessly give your submission to him. knowing that he's the one who can make you feel this way, and the one that's always in control during foreplay and during sex.

his fingers trail along the way to your hips, squeezing them lightly as the kisses intensified. his tounge rubbing against yours, intertwining together and twirling against eachother like a whirlpool. his eyes are half opened, pupils dilating as he takes in your struggling but pleasurable reactions to the kiss. with a bold move, his hands slip under you pleated skirt, his fingers almost within the reach to feel the cotton fabric of your panties. a gasp hitched your throat, body jolting from surprise as rindou chuckled softly against your mouth. his fingers teased the hem of your underwear, brushing through the tiny bow that was placed in the middle of your panties.

words cannot describe how much he wants to remove (or rather rip) your panties off and just have his way with your pussy throughout this entire night. he can wait but he also couldn't, not when your reactions are this cute and... so pathetic to him. your reactions were evident that you were enjoying this, muttering "more" against his lips like a needy slut. after a few more harsh pecks, he withdraws from your lips and immediately goes down to your neck,"i want to fuck you," his hot breath hitting against your skin, making your body shiver from the close contact,"wanna ruin this pretty face..." he huffed, hips dryly bucking against yours in almost a desperate movement,"fuck..." he whispers against your jaw, his eyebrows furrowing from how aroused he feels.

"you're driving me wild." he admits, he has never felt so turned on in his life. you were the first girl he can imagine fucking for the rest of his life.

your legs managed to wrap around his waist, his fingers entangled in the hem of your panties. his mind wanting to strip away all your clothes and fuck you like he misses you,"you know i love you, hm?" he snuggled more against the crook of your neck, his nose taking in the sweet and alluring scent of your yves saint laurent black opium perfume, paired with other scents such as the almond butter body cream,"m' never gonna feel the same way for anyone else, got that?" rindou's actions were way different than his words, he was saying such sweet things all the while he was devouring your body like a five course meal.

he couldn't wait any longer, pulling away from your neck he looks down to see how much he's marked you up recently. he wasn't ashamed nor did he regret doing all of this, he is yours, and you're his, nothing in between. an airy chuckle filled in your ears as his hands finally left your lower part of your body, now his hands sensually going up to your torso, feeling every inch of his palm and fingers turned you on (again). his calloused hands made its way to your clothed breasts, squeezing, fondling, and kneading them like a stress toy.

"what am i to you?" you whispered softly, causing rindou's ears to perk up from the sudden question. it almost made him laugh, what were you to him? what a dumb question,"you're my girl silly." a lazy grin curled up his lips, giving your breasts another squeeze,"want me to show you a different way pretty?" oh that made you wet instantly, vigorously biting down your lower lip you nodded hesitantly, making rindou sneer at your reaction. his hands moved to where his belt located, slowly but almost eagerly unbuckling his belt as the both of you await for what is about to come next.

with a sharp cling being heard from his santos de cartier belt, you knew there's no going back. looking down to see the poking bulge peek through his slacks, his lavander eyes remained glued to every expression that lands upon you. leaning down to press a little amount of his body weight against yours, rindou whispered in a raspy voice,"close your eyes, don't think about anything else okay?" all he was received was a simple nod from you, showing that you understand on what he wanted you to do for him.

you and rindou had one thing in common, you were both crazy about eachother.

[captaindamianos]

Absolutely obsessed with the genre of Laurent being obsessed with Damen's biceps. Laurent watching him wrestle and do pull ups and push ups. Laurent pretending he's to tired to go to bed so Damen will carry him bridal style to the bed and he's up close an personal while they're in action. Laurent absolutely loving being held up by Damen's arms alone while he's being fucked thoroughly

Damen picking up on it and doing his best to find tasks and situations where he can show off. You need a new barrel of mead? Let me carry that while i flex for my husband's pleasure.