#so the desire to weep is still strong

[thistaleisabloodyone]

I engaged my carpet and its padding in honorable combat and I emerged bloodied, bruised, but victorious

[logansbaby]

guys i need logan so bad, i cant stop thinking about him between my thighs— someone sedate me before i spend all night writing horny thoughts

18+ content below

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logan howlett is a man that loves eating you out. in fact, he craves it. the taste of you, the moans you try to stifle, the feel of your thighs threatening to enclose around his head as he tongue fucks you.

he already goes feral when fucking you, but once he gets that honey-sweet taste of you on his tongue, dancing around on his tastebuds? oh, he’s fucking animalistic.

if he had it his way, he’d be eating you out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner each day. obviously, that’s not possible but he tries his hardest to be between your thighs as much as possible.

each era of logan would be a different type of crazed for you. for example:

❥ early xmen logan getting back from a mission? logan would ignore everyone in his path and beeline to your shared room in the mansion. his nose would twitch at the scent of you. before he barges in, your mutant abilities would have you rushing out of bed (in one of his old t shirts that still smelt like him and white, frilly panties— a sight that always had logan panting) and throwing yourself in his arms. the sheer adoration present in the way you wrap your arms around his neck would have him lifting you up in his strong arms, smashing his lips to yours and cutting off whatever words fell from your pretty mouth. he wouldn’t be able to help it, the scent of you had him going dizzy with want. he’d throw you on the bed and immediately get to work, pressing scorching kisses to your clothed pussy. it wouldn’t be long before he’d had you bare for him, diving in and messily making out with your puffy clit, tongue dipping into the part of you that leaks messily with desire. when you’d wake up the next morning, you’d find your thighs littered with bruises in the shape of his mouth.

❥ old man logan would be needy in random moments. more often than not he’s working odd jobs or sleeping off the excruciating pain that plagues the entirety of him. so, there’s not a lot of time he gets to truly be where he wants to be; between your thighs, calves thrown around his shoulders as he licks at your weeping cunt.

there’s a night he comes into the makeshift home, limping in pain and maroon liquid seeping through his white dress shirt. his handsome face screams tired, but the second you try to comfort him and clean him up, he simply grips your hand and pulls you to the bed. he lays down first, not thinking to tend to his injuries, but instead beckoning you to him with a soft, sensual caress of your name.

when you’d sit beside him, still confused, he’d get frustrated and use all his strength to pull you up and onto his chest.

“wanna eat your pussy, baby” he’d say and oh, how you’d melt at the pure lust in his eyes, the hunger evident in his actions as he tugs you further until your cunt hovers over his mouth, the thin cloth of your underwear the only separation. he’d be too lazy to get them off properly, so he’d just pull the fabric to the side before absolutely ravishing you. his graying beard would sting your thighs deliciously as he licked your center desperately. he’d always say you tasted sweet, like honey mixed with something entirely you that had him crazed. he’d wrap his lips around your throbbing clit and suck, not letting up until you were humping his face with frantic whimpers, your release slicking him up. and since he rarely got to have you like this, he’d want to get a couple more orgasms out of you. he’d keep you on his face and wreck you entirely until you were both exhausted.

❥ 70’s logan would be a little different because instead of having his focus completely on you, he’d be a little selfish. meaning, he’d sit you right on his face but backwards, because not only is he 100% an ass man, he wants you to suck him off whilst he pleasures you. the feel of your pretty, puffy pussy on his mouth would have him hard, throbbing against his thigh and he wouldn’t be able to concentrate fully. so, his solution would be to have you on his mouth, where he’d lap up at your slick pooling on his tongue, while also having your spit-slicked lips wrapped around the entirety of him, gagging as he’d thrust deep into your throat. of course, you wouldn’t complain, you were just as needy for him as he was for you, so it made sense.

❥ lumberjack logan would be the filthiest for sure. being tucked away in your shared cabin, surrounded by the vast forests and mountains, would have him completely driven by lust more often then not. if he was coming home and found you prancing around mindlessly in one of his flannels and nothing else, he’d pick you up effortlessly and place you on the counter, knocking anything off in favor of spreading your thighs and licking fat stripes along your center, and dipping his tongue inside you.

if he was picking you up from your work, he wouldn’t be able to wait until you were home. he’d simply pull off to the side of the road, lead you to the backseat and fuck you senseless with his filthy mouth until you were reduced to a whining, mumbling mess.

and at home? he’d eat you out in every room, on every surface there was just because.

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[sinsofsummers]

keep quiet

1.3k words | logan x fem!reader

summary: logan can smell how much you need him as soon as you enter the room. what kind of man would he be to let you go unsatisfied? warnings: all smut. literally nothing else. dom!logan, he's kind of mean, hint of a humiliation kink, hair pulling (m receiving, logan asks for it), the cat ears get a lot of love, oral (f receiving), fingering, pure filth. if i miss anything pls let me know. note: andddd i was trying to write a full length fic. i ended up here instead. it's so rushed i apologize. pls logan let me give u a full litter.

He can smell it on you as soon as you walk into the room, and you can see the switch in his body language almost immediately. His shoulders tense, and his hands twitch into loose fists. His jaw ticks. 

You’re meeting Logan at a party. He’s been there for a bit already, but you came late. You can’t even remember what the party is, what it’s for, or who’s there. You can only see him. The way he’s got his thighs spread, one foot propped up on the coffee table in front of him, leaving a wide — and perfect — spot for you on his lap. Just like always, Logan’s dripping in sex appeal.

You’ve already been having…a day. All you want and need is his touch, his tongue, his everything. But here you are, trying to keep it a quiet afterthought as you stare at his lap, wishing you could put your lips over his cock and let it grow in the warmth of your mouth.

“Hey,” you say breathily, the syllable hardly leaving your mouth before Logan’s on his feet.

You can’t even register who else is in the room; his broad chest already blocks your vision and he drags you down a hallway, into the laundry room not far from the earshot of the living room.

You’re pretty sure the other party guests share an awkward chuckle at what they think is about to occur, but you can’t tell. Logan’s cologne is all over you, and you think you might slip your own hand into your panties if he doesn’t give you what you want right now.

“Here,” he snarls, “gimme these.” He’s got you shoved up against the washer, the perfect height to sit atop the cool metal.

He grabs your wrists roughly and shoves them into his hair. His teeth are gritted menacingly, but you’re practically keening at the sight of it. You know what’s about to follow. He can be cruel when he’s like this, but you know you’re about to get what you want.

“Now,” he hisses, leaning close to your face. “You’re gonna keep quiet. You’ve already made it obvious enough how fuckin’ desperate you are.”

You whine softly, and his eyes darken. “I wasn’t even here for more than—”

“No, no, no,” he growls. “None of that.” He lets go of one of your wrists, reaching up to squeeze your cheeks together in one hand, hard enough to make the heat rise in your face. 

He likes to see you like this — humiliated.

“You’re gonna keep quiet,” he repeats. “Anytime you wanna make a noise, you’re gonna pull.” 

He uses the hand still locked onto your wrist as a demonstration. His eyes are hard, and his mouth is still pulled back in that scowl that makes your core weep. 

“Pull hard, pup. You know I can take it.”

You try to squeeze your thighs together at the nickname, but he’s standing between your opened legs. It’s so animalistic, so filthy. You never last long when he’s like this.

But all you can see in front of you is Logan, his cruel face just a centimeter from yours.

You lean closer, wanting a kiss, but he denies you as he moves his hands to your hips, digging roughly under the hem of your shirt to unbutton your pants and yank them to your ankles. He lifts your legs so he can slip closer to your core, your legs resting atop his strong shoulders. 

Any other day, he might have teased you, might have drawn out your orgasm until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. But this Logan isn’t playing around. He doesn’t have time for this, as he’s made clear enough. 

Only in moments like this does he make your desire feel like an inconvenience, like he’s mad at you for being so desperate for his touch. Such a dumb little pup, huh? 

But as soon as he sinks his nose into your pussy and inhales the scent of your desire straight from the source, you know he needs this just as badly. That his every thought is plagued with the reminder that your pussy ruins every pair of panties you own because of him.

His tongue goes to work quickly; he’s brutal in his ministrations, and you tighten your grip in his hair. 

Bless these fucking cowlicks, you think. Or you might have, had you any mind to form coherent thoughts. 

“Insatiable,” he takes a breath and rolls his eyes as he looks up at you, but the sight of your wetness on his beard and nose takes away the exasperation. You can see how his pupils are blown wide.

You open your mouth to let out a moan, but he grunts. “No,” he demands. “Pull.”

So you do. Hard. Your hands card through the rest of his head of thick hair as he dives back to your clit, swirling tight circles around the sensitive bud, practically drinking your arousal right out of you. 

Your abdomen tightens, and you know he’s going for speed over anything at this point. He wants to get you off, and do it fast. You claw at his head, and relish in the deep groans that vibrate through your slick folds like an electric shock. 

“Logan,” you whisper, “I’m—”

“Yeah, yeah. I fuckin’ know, you dumb slut.”

Your eyes widen and you see white at the edges of your vision, your mouth hanging open as you catch some of his shoulder under your nails, dragging your hands across his skin. 

If anything, it spurs him on more. Two of his fingers play at your entrance, and — the mean fucker — he shoves them into your pussy without caring to stretch you out like he normally does. 

But it doesn’t matter. He knows you can take it. The stretch is something you chase, something you cherish every time. You reward him with a particularly strong yank on his hair, afraid you might pull it out of his skull.

He starts to let out a groan so loud it might come off as a roar, but then he catches himself and pistons his fingers in and out of you, his dark eyes lifting to hold onto you as he shoves you over the edge and into a leg-shaking orgasm.

Your hands twist in his hair and you just barely hear the high-pitched whine that falls from his lips. It’s almost feline coming from him.

Logan sits still for a second, his eyes still on you as he laps at your pussy softly, an amused smirk on his face when you shiver at the overstimulation. 

Finally he stands, feeding his fingers to you, nodding as he watches you lick your ecstasy off his digits.

You catch your breath, still feeling wobbly. Your eyes catch on the bulge in his jeans, and you reach a tired hand for his belt.

He chuckles, and it’s almost like he’s mocking you. “Oh, you wanna help me out, sweet pea?”

“Yes, please.” You hope you sound coherent, like you’re apologizing for not being able to make him feel good yet, but you can’t even keep your eyes on him. The treat in his jeans is too tempting. Your tongue absentmindedly darts out to wet your lips.

Logan lifts your chin roughly with one hand, forcing you to look at him. His hair is wild, and you bite your lip at the sight of how disheveled you’ve made him. 

His beard still shines with your release as he shakes his head. “Should have thought of that before you showed up like you did. Can’t control yourself, even in public.” He pulls you to your feet and helps you pull your pants back on. His roughness starts to subside, and left behind is the gentle giant that you recognize.

“You’re gonna wait til we get home,” he says with a gentle kiss to your forehead. But you don’t ignore the tension in his promise that follows: “Then you’re repaying me, bub.”

-

ANYWAYS! i'm crying like a bitch in heat for this man feel free to send me any and all thoughts u have on logan pls

see u for the next one! i hope u enjoyed :)

[konigsblog]

Getting fucked while wearing konigs shirt....yeah.....

tw: somnophilia, non-con/dub-con. 💤

considering this man is headcannoned to be around 6’10” tall, his clothes would be massive on you.

könig has a fetish for it; seeing you draped in his large clothes, falling asleep in a sweatshirt of his, covering your body that he craves and desires so desperately.

to his surprise, you're not wearing any panties. it's a sight könig can't get out of his head, and even if you're just best friends, he can't himself from exploring further — hands wandering upwards to your precious tits, his large, calloused and cold hands against your warm breasts leaving your nipples perky and hard between his fingers, giving them a little twist as he grinds his clothed boner against your ass.

he'll roll his sweatshirt up, enough where he's able to spread your thighs, wrapping his arms around your figure to pull you close. he can almost hear the sound of your heartbeat rhythm, pounding against your ribs as he rubs your swollen folds in small circles, watching your every reaction as his dick hardens at the sight.

spreading your thighs, he begins to take his weeping dick out. fuck, by the time he's freed his lengthy dick from the confines of his boxers, he's leaking like a faucet all down his fingers. fat globs of his hot semen are smeared along your slit, using it as lube to push deep inside, stretching you out with his aching length.

you look so relaxed and peaceful, the sounds of your snoring slightly audible as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. his brain feels like mush as he huffs at the faint scent of your perfume against your neck, and the essence of your shampoo in your hair. the feeling of your gummy, slick and warm cunt around his meaty dick leaves könig feeling as if he's on cloud nine, unable to control the way his broad hips buck into your soft figure.

his fingernails leave indents along your flesh, gripping a firm hold of your soft thighs as he grinds his strong hips against your rear, panting beside your ear as he admires the sight of you one last time before he uses your tight pussy as an outlet for his hot load.

the sight of his clothes covering your figure, looking so comfortable and snug in his clothes, the smell of his cologne and musk still lingering on the material leaving him feral and possessive. his balls become tight and sore with each thrust, the desperation inside of könig only growing as he feels his shaft twitch and pulsate before shooting spurts of his arousal all inside the warmth of your cunt.

fuck... he could stay there forever, really — the warmth and tightness of your hole, so slick and so wet, something so familiar to könig, but so new for you. if only you knew how often he does this, how guilt churns in his gut everytime he's fucked himself stupid using your cunt... :(

[jukashi]

If we take a break for a moment from the funny meme or self-aware kink indulgence understanding of the 'bimbo', and instead examine it as a sort of sexist fantasy - that is, literally a fantasy of ideal womanhood as imagined by a sexist - then we can come to understand that the 'himbo' is not the masculine counterpart. There is discourse to mine out of the idea that the himbo represents a sexist fantasy of ideal manhood, but I think that the himbo actually represents a sort of halfway step between the bimbo and her true counterpart.

The bimbo embodies sexist 'ideals' of womanhood, taken to an extreme and bent to the desires of the sexist (presumed straight, male) imagination. She is:

1) physically attractive in sexual terms, to an extreme - both a pleasure to possess and a status symbol to display to others

2) always horny (thus, always sexually available)

3) unintelligent in the traditional sense - not good at organization, STEM fields, academic learning, etc. this keeps her...

4) nonthreatening - she won't outshine a man in any domain of (the sexist ideas of) male competence, and

5) dependent - in need of a big strong smart man to provide for her, reassuring said man's sense of self-worth

All of these line up with traditional sexist ideas of womanhood - where the bimbo has flaws, they're not feminine flaws, and she still possesses feminine strengths (according to the sexist mindset).

So, the male counterpart of the bimbo should embody sexist ideals of manhood, taken to an extreme and bent to the desires of the sexist imagination. If we compare to the bimbo's features listed above, then:

1) physical attractiveness is desirable for men but not a key feature - a man can be manly while being ugly in a way a woman cannot be womanly if she is ugly.

2) horniness is not seen as desirable for men - it is expected and excused by sexists, but it's considered threatening to those who are its targets and a lot of sexism towards men is based in this assumed threat.

3) traditional intelligence is considered manly, but emotional intelligence isn't - in fact, it's seen as unmanly.

4) being threatening is harder to extract from manliness, as is...

5) being dependent, but it is possible, even required - men are just expected to be non-threatening and dependent in a different way.

Remembering that we're looking for a sexist ideal rather than a sexual ideal, we need to identify how sexism towards men works. Men are not sexually objectified under traditional sexism, but they are still objectified. This objectification is based on utility - an objectified man is reduced to a tool. He is wanted for what he can do and how well he does it, not in himself. His personhood is reduced to what makes him useful and controllable, and when he is not being of use he is unseen. He does not feel pain, he does not feel emotions that make him less of a perfect undemanding worker or soldier, he is permitted to suffer or rage or weep only for the things he serves and never for himself.

The male counterpart of a bimbo would be:

1) physically obviously useful - big and strong and tough, to an extreme, convenient for whoever he serves and an implicit threat to their enemies

2) seldom horny (thus never sexually threatening)

3) emotionally unintelligent - lacking the ability to understand or express the feelings of others or even his own (if he even has them) - in order to help make him:

4) unthreatening, in the sense of being easily controllable and socially inferior, and

5) dependent - in need of an inspiring leader, abstract ideals or a sole source of comfort to fulfill his emotional needs, further securing his loyalty and obedience.

I put it to you, then:

Space Marines are the male counterpart of bimbos, and becoming one is bimbofication.

[ninibeingdelulu]

heyy could you do a pregnant female reader x geto please like hc or however u want thank youu

How he act when you’re pregnant ft. suguru geto

a/n: ty 4 the request anon!

Suguru may be the fearsome leader of an anti-non-sorcerer cult, but deep down there's still a part of his soul that belongs solely to you and the child growing within your womb.

He masks his true feelings with that signature cold, impassive facade around his loyal followers.

But whenever the two of you are alone, his icy exterior immediately melts away bit by bit.

Suguru can't resist the temptation to kneel before you, gently cradling the swell of your pregnant belly between his calloused palms.

His thumbs map out the rippling flutters and kicks from within as if decoding an ancient arcane language.

"Do you feel our heir shifting inside, my love ?"

His deep rumble always takes on an uncharacteristically hushed reverence during these tender moments. "So powerful...just like their mother."

He'll then dip his head to pepper soft, lingering kisses against your stomach - wordlessly conveying his boundless pride and adoration for the new life blossoming under his fervent worship.

When the pregnancy insomnia and restless nights inevitably strike, Suguru is the first to sense your stirring beside him from even the lightest change in breathing pattern.

Without a word, he'll enfold you into his strong embrace, palming soothing circles over your lower back and whispering indecipherable words laced with cursed energy directly against your skin to ease your discomfort.

"Allow me to bear this burden for you both, my darlings..."

He'll rasp the entreaty like a sacred mantra repeatedly until you've drifted back into a blissfully dreamless slumber cocooned in his protective heat.

Once you're finally due, Suguru wastes no time ruthlessly dispatching any who attempt deterring him from remaining glued by your side during labor and delivery.

He is a man possessed - fueled by sheer stubborn willpower and the ferocious desire to bear witness to this historic event.

The instant that robust newborn cry pierces the air, he shatters. Suguru openly weeps unrestrained tears of rapturous joy while clutching your sweat-dampened brow to his chest - the last of his emotional levees obliterated.

He remains equally awestruck cradling that tiny squirming bundle, studying every indescribably perfect detail with an intensity you've never witnessed before.

"Look what your incredible strength has brought forth, sweetheart..." Suguru's sandpaper baritone cracks with each hushed endearment while rocking the newborn firmly against his thrumming heart.

[knavves]

HIT MY BRAIN, DGAF ft various bllk men — which of the bllk boys r absolutely mf hung ?

wc: 0.8k ノ cw + tw : nsfw (18+). fem reader. blow jobs. size kink(?). dacryphilia. masturbation. use of pet names. mirror sex. belly/throat bulges. dirty talk. praise. riding. mentions of blood.

shidou is definitely huge and he knows it too. "too big for you, pretty? i know you can take more than that." he's already bulging in your throat even though he's not even fully sheathed inside your mouth, so heavy on your tongue. the stretch of your jaw fucking burns but his groans are so hot that the slight pain doesn't bother you so much. one of your hands wrap around the base of his cock, stroking whatever you couldn't reach with your mouth. the other one is knuckles deep inside your own pussy, wishing he was buried deep somewhere else. "there you go. fuck so good, such a good girl for me." the slurping and gagging noises that ricochet off the walls are downright filthy but he loves it, just as much as he loves your runny and smudged mascara. he places his large hand on the back of your head, shoving you down further on his length as he shoots his load down your throat. hearing you choke and seeing you struggle to swallow the mouthful of his cum has him hard all over again.

you're gonna have to hear me out on karasu, he is absolutely hung i know it. he loves to have you pressed up against the dresser, the wooden furniture rocking and thudding into the floor with each strong thrust of his hips. he places you in front of the mirror too, a firm grip on your jaw to make you ogle at yourself in the reflection. your eyes lock on the way your tits bounce in suite of the loud slapping noises. the drool that escapes from the corners of your opened mouth that spills uncontrollable moans is downright embarrassing but you can't reach up to wipe it, not when you need to stabilize yourself as he brutally pounds into you. but your eyes are especially drawn to where he's bulging in your abdomen. "cryin already?" he coos into your ear, his warm breath fanning your ear. he was right, you noted as you peered back at yourself in the mirror to see fat tears spilling over. you drop your head to look away from your fucked out self making him click his tongue in annoyance, "nuh uh, baby. keep yer eyes on yourself. look so beautiful."

aiku thinks you look so cute right now, cunt fluttering and squeezing him so nicely as he sinks his cock into you. you're trembling where he has you caged beneath him, shaking your head and murmuring variations of "s too big!" and "not gonna fit, oli..". but he only shushes you, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet nothings to soothe you. "you can take it, baby. that's it.. see i knew you could." he stretches you out so so good, its no wonder several women flocked to him before he met you. but now you had him in the palm of your hand, you were the one who he came home to everyday, bending you over and drilling his fat cock into you whenever you ask. like now where he has you bent in half, legs dangling over his broad shoulders as he fucks you dumb. he has you seeing stars, pulling his cock out until just the tip is in before slamming all of his girth back into your weeping pussy.

it takes all of barou's self control to not flip you over and pound into you until you can't utter anything but his name. but regardless of his desires, he uncharacteristically takes it slow with you and lets you take your time lowering yourself onto him. it feels like he's splitting you in half, your bottom lip is tucked in between your teeth, threatening to draw blood. "you can do it. i got you, sweetheart." his voice is still gruff but his words are so unusually sweet. when you finally bottom out, he almost lets out a guttural moan at the imprint of his dick in your stomach. "feel that, baby?" he smirks when you gasp as he cruelly presses down on the bulge in your stomach. he's so deep. it takes you a few moments to adjust to the sheer size of him, no matter how many times you've fucked you always struggle to take him. "atta girl." he grunts as you start bouncing in his lap, hands sliding up to your waist to dig his rough hands into your flesh. the time it took to prep you was all worth it to feel you squeeze his cock so nicely with each raise of your hips and to hear the cute whimpers that left your lips. your voices tangled with one another as he muttered between moans how tight you were. you'd squeal and curl your toes every time he'd thrust up into you, his cock slamming against your sweet spot. "cum all over my cock, baby. make a mess for me."

© knavves : reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.

[retrosabers]

𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒.

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: just some good old fashioned riding with big dick steve

warnings: SMUT 18+. MINORS DNI. swearing, unprotected p in v, mentions of the female anatomy, riding, male & female orgasm

word count: 1k

based on the song “pyramids” by frank ocean.

a/n: this is the first complete smut blurb i’ve ever written, so please bare with! any feedback is greatly appreciated, hope y’all enjoy <3

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐆, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓. 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋.

the sight below you is ethereal. steve harrington, under the glow of moonlight, soft brown locks askew on the pillow, plump pink lips parted, and pupils blown wide with lust. he looks like a fucking god, and you’re more than willing to worship. his large hands find solace on your hips, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. the weeping tip of his cock presses against your clit, causing a small whine to escape your lips.

“come on baby” he encourages, voice dripping with desire. “you can take it.”

his length is unlike anything you’ve ever had before. you could barely fit him in your mouth when you sucked him off, and you were sure it was going to be a challenge for him to fit inside your cunt.

his name comes out in another whine, pleading and desperate. steve can’t stop the smirk that forms on his face. he loves knowing that he’s gotten you watered down to this, the strong, confident girl gone cockdrunk before he’s even slipped it in.

“baby” his voice is a little gentler now, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your back. “i gotcha, okay?”

you trusted steve enough in every other part of your life to know that those two words were true as could be.

nervously, you plant your hands on his chest, wiggling your hips to get a better position, and his cock teased your folds. it’s a touch that makes up your mind. you need him, all of him, right now.

steve hisses out a raspy “atta girl” as you sink down the first few inches. the stretch burns deliciously, bordering on the line between pain and pleasure. you’ve never felt this full before, and just this bit of him has you whimpering and squirming like crazy.

“good girl”, he coos, tongue poking out to lick him bottom lip. “such a good girl for me.”

“jesus you’re big steve.” you manage between shaky breaths. his cocky smirk intensifies and it manages to make you even wetter, granting you access to slide even further down his cock. a moan escapes both of your lips, and steve’s grip on you tightens. he’s fighting the urge to buck up into you, but he knows you have to do this at your own pace.

“that’s it honey. take it. take it all.”

steve’s praise only spurs you on, sending him further into you bit by bit. the sting was slowly giving way to something warmer, and by the time he’s fully seated inside you, you’re convinced if he barely moves an inch, you’re going to cum.

“god you feel so fucking good” steve groans, squeezing the flesh of your ass with one hand. “s’like you were made for me.”

you moan unabashedly, still adjusting to his size.

“steve.”

he shudders. god you were insatiable and you didn’t even have the slightest clue. his hands go back to resting on your hips, an encouraging and gentle touch that gives you confidence.

“honey” he breathes, sounding just as desperate as you. “i want you to ride me, okay?”

you take a deep breath, before rising off him slowly, whining as you went, before taking his length in you once more. slowly, you rise up and down his cock, familiarizing yourself with the feeling before you pick up the pace.

as you begin to move faster, steve is embarrassed over the thought that he’s not gonna last long. between the way your pussy feels wrapped around him, the way your tits were bouncing with every roll of your hips, he was a goner. you’ve built up a steady rhythm now, the burning stretch long gone and replaced by the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt. the only sounds in the room are both of your lust drunk moans and the sound of your soaked heat.

“that’s it baby” steve purs, his grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. “just like that, just like that.”

when steve starts lightly thrusting back up into you, an electric shock of pleasure courses up your spine. the way you moan his name in return is so pornographic it’s making his head spin.

you’re panting and whining, so lost in the feeling of him, and that ever familiar coil begins to form in your stomach.

“m’ close baby” you breathe out, sinking your palms further into the planes of his chest.

he meets your eyes. “yeah? you gonna cum for me pretty girl?”

steve cants his hips up at just the right angle, and you throw your head back in ecstasy.

“right there stevie, please don’t stop.”

and who would steve be if he was to deny your simple request?

your bodies move synchronously, vibrating with need and your orgasm begins to creep up the back of your neck. when you moan out his name this time, steve knows it’s coming. his pointer and index fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles as he works to bring you over the edge.

“fuck! steve i’m gonna-”

before you can finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. the feeling coursing through your veins is white hot, burning your every nerve . your mouth opens in a silent scream, body twitching as steve works himself up to his own orgasm. steve chases his high with your name falling from his lips like a prayer, hips stuttering into one final thrust before he cums inside you. aftershocks run through your body as he stills, body falling limp onto his chest.

you lay there for a few minutes like that, just bathing in the afterglow before steve eventually decides to pull out. you whimper at the loss of contact and steve holds back a groan at the sight of his cum still dripping a little bit out of your pussy.

“christ, you’re gonna be the death of me” he mutters under his breath, head shaking side to side as he wanders off to the bathroom. steve hears the sound of your laugh echo throughout the room and he can’t help but smile. when he returns with a damp rag, your heart inevitably warms up.

“you okay?” he asks, gently rubbing the warm cloth against the inside of your thighs.

“never been better” you breath out, a lazy smile spreading across your face.

“good.” steve grins, and leans over to plant the most feather-light kiss on the top of your nose. when it scrunches and you giggle, his heart skips a beat.

“always gotta make sure i’m taking care of my girl.”

[roseapov]

Empress

Claude de Alger Obelia x F!Reader

Tw: sexual themes, obsession, implied kidnapping, arranged marriage and pregnancy

! Sexual themes ! 13+ !

Povtober 2023, Day 14 [Masterlist]

You, a second-in-line royal, neglected by your family. The audacity of your family to do so, as they were ruling over a small kingdom, completely insignificant with the comparison to the whole continent.

Your kingdom is only still standing cause of one condition made by the Obelian Empire. As long as you were to be engaged and later married to the Obelian Emperor, your country will continue to stand strong, with the help of a powerful empire.

However if the conditions were to be broken off, everyone in your land would suffer a great loss, being led to a war with a completely crushing opponent, that would weep out your homeland in a week, if they so desired.

And yet you still got mistreated, even as a peace keeper. One day, when you had enough of it, you run away, or at least planned to. Your escape plan seemed decent with a big chance for success, as your wing of the castle was almost empty, with most of the servants in your parents and older sibling side.

On the same day the said emperor came to your castle to talk about the marriage details. When you tried to sneak off through the royal gardens, you got stopped by some unknown man with blonde hair and blue jeweled eyes.

Tossing from side to side, desperately trying to run away from his grasp, chanting like a mantra that you wanted to leave this place forever. Eventually you became tired and with this man unrelenting grip, falling asleep in his arms.

The next moment you wake up, you're in bed with that mysterious man from the last night, being dangerously close to each other.

Later on you found out, you were taken to the Obelian Empire as a future empress, and the man you woke up to was the emperor.

And... You don't want to know what happened to your kingdom.. That's the safest option to choose!

Ever since your arrival you finally got treated like a real royalty, being drowned by all that valuables and attentiveness of the servants and guards.

The man, whose name you learned to be Claude, never really left your side ever since. You had a hard time warming up to him, even when he took you away from your family, his cold glare scaring you endlessly.

Shortly after your arrival, the marriage and coronation came shortly after. People welcoming you with open arms and a great amount of hope, that you will be able to tame their ruler.

Claude was very attentive to you, seeing your every little discomfort, swiftly disposing of its source. Example?

When you didn't like the food the chef cooked, and Claude ordering to execute him. That's the exact part when you step in, pleading him to spare this poor soul. To everyone's surprise he indeed listened to you and left this person alive.

From that day onward you earned the utmost respect and adoration from your subjects, being known for your benevolence towards anyone, no matter their status but also the ability to calm down the tyrant emperor.

But after a while of your reign with Claude came the question of the children. As a married man Claude has slayed all of his concubines, just for you, which left you scared and speechless, to discard someone's life so easily, how.. vicious.

As a ruler without concubines and children, he had to, well.. make some. Preferably with the empress, but some other women would do the thing too, no they wouldn't, he killed everyone seconds after these words left their mouths.

The fact that they had the audacity to suggest him making future heirs with someone else? Truly outrageous, they met an end they deserved.

To make all that nonsense quiet you don't have a choice and decide with your husband that it is time to make a royal heir. You're doing that only because it's a part of your royal duties, but don't worry your husband knows it and just pretends that you want it as much as he does.

During this time, he would constantly cling to you and if it were for him, you wouldn't need to stand up from the bed at all, which you rarely did anyway.

He threatened everyone with death if you were to leave your shared bedroom.

He greatly enjoyed your baby making process, taking in all of you. Your expression and sounds you made, he has it all detaily memorized.

Being even more intoxicated with you, and when you tried to muffle your moans, he got even harsher, considering it disrespecting the emperor and denying his wishes.

He became ruthless, telling you how lucky you are that he favors you, that anyone else in your place would be already dead. You should be thankful you haven't met this horrible end, and yet you still have the audacity to disobey him, truly bold of you, Empress.

Let him put you in your place, always beneath him.

If you do get pregnant, you'll forget what it was like to have a moment for yourself. Now you're under the watching gaze of Claude as he doesn't let you do anything at all. While always standing right by your side, watching you as your belly gets rounder with every passing week.

That child will be the next ruler of the Obelian Empire, it will be yours child, yours and his.

A living proof that you decided was forced to make love with him, a living proof that you were all his and he all yours, till the end of the time, saved in the history for all to read.

I went all out on this one which is weird since I had 0 thoughts after my sickness, but I'm not complaining🤭 This came out mostly 'you' centered, so I'm sorry to everyone who didn't liked that, it was an accident🙏 I tried making it more Claude centered by making this fic longer, to conceal the 'you' centered part, but I don't know how well I pulled that off 👀 Feedback is greatly appreciated💛

~roseapov

[imaginedanvrs]

thinking about soft!kate being the cutest little mess in the middle of the night

Her lips were so soft against your neck that it took an abundance of them to make you even begin to stir from your sleep. Once you were just a toe outside of the dreaming state, all you needed was for her quiet whines to pull you entirely into consciousness to join her. Your eyes fluttered open as you automatically craned your neck against the pillow to give your girlfriend better access to your skin. She accepted the invitation with a small sigh. 

  “Hey,” you whispered into the dark room. It must have been some time past midnight. 

  “Hey,” she whispered back and you felt her smile against you as she took a hold of your hand and guided it behind your back to her bare thighs without an ounce of hesitation. You knew what she wanted, it wasn’t the first time she had awoken you in such a way. 

  Normally, you loved to make her beg for it, but she was too sweet to deprive even in the slightest when she was in this state so you mirrored her eagerness and turned around to face her with your hand still on her thighs that clenched under your touch. 

  There was a brief moment when you could make out her features in the moonlight. Her dishevelled hair from where she had been restless with need, her parted lips that awaited your own, even her eyes that were so blown with lust that her pupils blended into the darkness around you. She’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, so you took great pleasure in watching her shiver as you stroked the strong muscle in her thighs that grew weak solely for you. 

  You captured her lips as your fingers found the dampness of her underwear, stroking the material in acknowledgment of her need but not lingering too long on the barrier. You moved it to the side and exhaled deeply when you were met with her slick folds. She must have been that way for a while and the realisation had you overcome with a desperation of your own to please her. 

  “Kate,” you sighed as you coaxed her onto her back and slipped a finger into her weeping pussy. She moaned softly into your mouth at the welcomed intrusion, parting her legs for you to thrust ever so gently. You want to take care of her. You had to, and in that moment the best way was to bring her the pleasure she sought from you. 

  “You’re perfect,” you told her because she truly was. She was a gift from some higher power and could just as easily be their weapon should she choose to be. But she didn’t. She chose to have you, there, touching her in her bed so tenderly that she would never dare bring any harm your way, just as you would take the hit of any harm that came hers. 

  When breathing became a chore for the archer, you altered to leaving fresh marks across her collarbone as you added a finger that pumped steadily inside her. She called your name like a prayer and you had no intention of ignoring her when she tainted your fingers with her wetness in the purest way possible. It was the evidence of her pleasure, and it could be heard as clearly as it could be felt by you both. Her desire was your own. 

  Kate found the loose fabric of the back of your shirt and gripped onto it with a might to keep you close as her breathless pants entangled with your own. She was struck with pleasure and you were equally overcome with the feeling of her warmth fluttering around your fingers that worked inside her the best way you knew how. You caressed the soft at the back of her pussy that made her breath hitch and entire body twitch. You sought the sweet reactions and noises she made against your ear and felt them spiral down every nerve in your body that scrambled to get even a whisper of her song. 

  “Y/n,” Kate called when she began to tighten around your digits. She called for your guidance and encouragement, never used to the lack of control she felt when she was so close to the edge that only you could coax her over. 

  “I know,” you told her, bringing your free hand to her cheek in an act of adoration. You loved her like this. “Cum for me,” you muttered like a secret exchanged under the blanket of the night. In a sense, it was. You were the only one honoured with the sight of her unravelled beneath you. 

  She did, and it was a sight you could never cease to have you in awe. Kate held you so desperately close as she came around your fingers, contracting and pulsing as you whispered assurances to her that had her pretty head spinning more. She was a mess, chess heaving with a thin layer of sweat while she embraced the bliss that bloomed so beautifully. Her moans were just as enchanting, delivered so purely that you couldn’t stop stroking your fingers inside her to work her through her high in the most loving way possible. 

  Once the final waves had finished cleansing her body and soul, the giggle that escaped her lips was just as consuming as the scene it followed. You kissed her cheek then her lips, feeling her smile against you as her arms wrapped around your neck securely with a content sigh that you would align all of the planets in the cosmos to hear.

[tabbiwritesgenshin]

failing light | various

synopsis: how would they act when you die

genre: angst

word count: 1,119

a/n: I don't have anything interesting to say but can I add how baffling it is the support my previous post got? like damn, i went from 20 notes to 253. tysm y'all omg

Collei wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, to yell, her whole world had crumbled in only a few glances, yet she couldn’t. She was struck with both fear and shock, you were her most beloved person in the entirety of Teyvat, you were the only person who had shown her any love in a long while and now..you were just..dead. She could only stare at your body for what felt like hours until she eventually lost consciousness.

Eula clutched your body with all she had, she had to make sure your last moments were ones of peace. She tried her best to contain herself, to ignore her tears, to do everything she could to look strong for you, yet, she couldn’t. She was left as a crying mess as the concept of losing the only person who loved her dawned on her mind. 

Again she had lost, again Ei had weeped, again was someone else taken from her, again, she felt hopeless, like she had lost everything she held dear. She wanted to move on, she wished to maintain strong, that’s what you desired, that’s what she promised to you..yet she couldn’t. The pain was too much, the grief overtook her. Again would she retire to her Plane of Euthymia, again would she abandon everyone, again would she despise herself.

Ganyu was afraid, she was scared, terrified of the idea of losing you. She tried everything she could yet nothing worked. The half-Qilin tried every bit of knowledge she had on medicine to try to save you, even those used only by the Adepti, if she could, she’d even give out her life for you. Perhaps it was due to the panic of losing someone again, but during her numerous attempts to extend your life, she hadn’t accepted the fact that you were truly gone.

Kujou Sara was unfortunately experienced in the concept of loss and death so when you approached her with heavy battle wounds, she knew better than to panic. Her pain and grief were incomparable to whatever suffering she had seen before in her life, yet, she kept strong. She didn’t want you to pass in fear or sadness. The moment you died it shattered whatever facade was left in her. She collapsed onto the floor, still clutching your cold body. The mighty Tengu general of the Shogunate was lost..truly destroyed.

The skies were split and thunder roared as The Raiden Shogun weeped to your lifeless body. All semblance of hope..all happiness which she had ever felt in her life vanished as her eyes gazed at the ones which had given her so much with so little in return. No longer would the Shogun hold back against humanity, she would make all who dared harm her beloved pay, none shall be spared. All will suffer for the sake of eternity so no one she held dear would fear again.

Rosaria always acted like she didn’t care, Rosaria always acted like nothing mattered to her, even when she had someone to love, someone who loved her, she still acted with this cold exterior, yet, when she was faced with the news that the most significant person in her life had died every facade she had, every coldness in her heart, they were crushed as a sense of hopelessness would crush her like a boulder. Never again would that be a facade, after you had died, after she was left alone once more, that coldness overtook her heart and no amount of warmth could heat it ever again.

The Anemo Archon Venti would hold you on his lap as you slowly passed away, even in your last moments, his love was there to comfort you. Even after you were gone, he would not leave this position, even when you were buried, even when everyone thought you had died alone, even when everyone thought you two hadn’t even spoken to eachother, he would always be present in the place of your passing. Every night, every month, every year, he would sit there for hours at a time, drinking away as he talked to himself in only praises of yourself.

The Wanderer felt different, he was the creation of a god, mortals were below him, none were equal to him, he was above every single one of those worms, yet, there was one of those so called “worms” that for a single moment, for a brief second, could make him believe he was only a human, that he could feel happy, he could feel everything those he called below him could feel. There was only one person who could make him happy, only one person who could help him forget about his betrayals yet even them suffered, even them were hunted down due to his past, even them suffered because of him. Some would say, that the Wanderer, after so long, would return to who he was, even for a single minute, would enjoy murder once more.

He knew it would happen, a karmic debt was placed on Xiao a long time ago, he knew it, he knew that those around him would suffer because of it, but even then, the mighty conqueror of demons could also fall prey to the enticing and intoxicating love he used to think he was undeserving of. His more rational side was prepared for such an occurrence, of losing his most loved one yet deep down, he knew he wasn’t, he knew the moment you were at the brink of death, he would sacrifice his own to keep you safe..but he was too late, you were dead before he could heal you, before he could save you. Never before had the Yaksha felt such deep hatred, such unfeeling rage, so much was it that when he was done with his vengeance, when he had bathed in blood in the name of love, he felt nothing but a consuming sense of hollowness.

Zhongli grasped your hand with all the softness and grace he could have. He had a rather long talk with you, reminiscing about the fond times you two had, the love you shared, the pain and the happiness you had shared. He knew it would come to this, he knew that this would happen eventually. You were a mortal, a mere human, he was an archon, a god. Once you were gone, once time finally caught up with you, he couldn’t help but to shed a tear. Once again, none who would share his memories, once again, another loved one had been hit with time. Some could say that from that day, the enigmatic consultant of the Wangsheng funeral parlor seemed more distant, more cold, even.

[aphroditelovesu]

Random concept. So you know the story of Eros and Psyche? Well basically that but instead of sending Eros Aphrodite goes over to that mortal herself to punish them. But when Aphrodite sees reader she does admit she finds them pretty cute (whether they're actually more beautiful than Aphrodite or not. but cmon it's Aphrodite they probably aren't, but definitely still attractive to be considered so)

❝💗 — lady l: it was supposed to be just a concept but I got carried away and made this mini imagine. I hope you like it and forgive me any mistakes!! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, stalking and manipulation.

❝💗pairing: yandere!aphrodite x gender neutral psyche!reader.

❝💗 word count: 487.

Once upon a time, in an ancient age, (Y/N) was a young woman/man of peerless beauty and gentle soul. Their fame spread throughout the kingdom, attracting admiring glances from all who saw them. But (Y/N) didn't preen on their beauty; they was humble and kind, devoting their time to helping those in need.

Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty, sexuality and love, watched (Y/N) with hungry eyes. The mortal possessed a beauty that rivaled Aphrodite herself, awakening a burning feeling in the goddess. However, the love Aphrodite felt was unlike any other. It was possessive and overwhelming, burning like an uncontrollable flame.

One day, Aphrodite decided to descend from Mount Olympus and walk among mortals. She approached (Y/N), hiding her divine identity under a veil of mystery. The encounters between Aphrodite and (Y/N) were marked by intimate conversations and intense looks. With each encounter, the flames of desire intensified, fueling Aphrodite's obsessive and possessive love.

(Y/N), oblivious to the true identity of the mysterious visitor, was drawn to her in an inexplicable way. They felt as if they had known Aphrodite all they life, as if an ancient bond held them together. But the closer they got to Aphrodite, the more they emotions turned into turmoil.

Aphrodite could no longer contain her overwhelming love for the beautiful mortal she had once wanted to destroy. She revealed her true identity to (Y/N), hoping the mortal would take her back. However, instead of accepting it, (Y/N) was stunned and scared. They didn't understand the overwhelming feelings Aphrodite had for them.

They tried to gently refuse the goddess, but Aphrodite wouldn't listen to reason. At that moment, the goddess realized that it wasn't love she felt for (Y/N) but a strong obsession. She didn't care, however.

As time passed, Aphrodite became more and more possessive, trying to wrap (Y/N) in a love that was more overwhelming than liberating. She made promises of wealth and power, offering (Y/N) everything they heart could desire. However, (Y/N) realized that they didn't want to be trapped by this intense and suffocating love.

They wanted their freedom, their old life and not to be desperately and obsessively loved by the most beautiful goddess.

Too bad that never happened. Aphrodite, angry and full of hurt, did not accept the rejection and decided to take revenge on her beloved. She had her son shoot lead arrows at people dear to (Y/N), causing them to reject the beautiful mortal. Soon they found themselves alone and abandoned.

Finding themself weeping and lonely, Aphrodite visited her beloved and enveloped them in her possessive embrace. The goddess whispers promises that they would never be alone while she was around.

(Y/N) finally accepted the goddess's affections after being abandoned by the people they loved so dearly. Such cruel punishment for a crime that hadn't even been willingly committed.

[marichive]

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 : 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

Writing / roleplay prompts collected from the POV chapters of Daenerys Targaryen in A Dance with Dragons , the fifth book of the ASOIAF saga. Feel free to adjust pronouns / etc. as needed.

tw: dark & mature themes, death, violence, suggestive / sexual content

❝ There is no need for you to see this. ❞

❝ He died for me. ❞

❝ It is bad luck to touch the dead. ❞

❝ They are only girls. ❞

❝ The blood of the dragon does not weep. ❞

❝ I am still at war, only now I am fighting shadows. ❞

❝ They are soldiers, not warriors. ❞

❝ Their training teaches them to obey, fearlessly, perfectly, without thought or hesitation … not to unravel secrets or ask questions. ❞

❝ I’ll see them when I’m dressed. ❞

❝ A crown should not sit easy on the head. ❞

❝ You are so radiant today I fear to look on you. ❞

❝ Women do not forget. Women do not forgive. ❞

❝ Does he believe a pair of pretty slippers will win my hand? ❞

❝ If he proposes that I wed this man again, I’ll throw a slipper at his head. ❞

❝ I am only a young girl and know little of the ways of war. ❞

❝ Why, it must be because you have no other purpose but to plague me. How many times have I refused you? ❞

❝ I see that you are eloquent as well as beautiful. I am quite persuaded. ❞

❝ You take too much on yourself. ❞

❝ Help me dress. I’ll have a cup of wine as well, to clear my head. ❞

❝ Come sleep with me. Dawn will not come for hours yet. ❞

❝ He was a good brother. ❞

❝ Say the word, my sweet, and I will send you from this awful place. ❞

❝ I would sooner stay with you. I feel safe when I’m with you. ❞

❝ I want to keep you safe. ❞

❝ No one ever kept me safe when I was little. ❞

❝ I want to protect you, but . . . it is so hard, to be strong. ❞

❝ I don’t always know what I should do. I must know, though, I am all they have. ❞

❝ We’ll both sleep, and dream of sweeter days. ❞

❝ Who would ever dare to love a dragon? ❞

❝ There is no woman more lovely than you. Only a blind man could believe otherwise. ❞

❝ A bath will help soothe me. ❞

❝ How did you get past my guards? ❞

❝ Your guards never saw me. ❞

❝ Why should I fear him? ❞

❝ If you have some warning for me, speak plainly. ❞

❝ Remember who you are. ❞

❝ I was praying. ❞

❝ Prophecies are treacherous. ❞

❝ If this is truly what my people wish, do I have the right to deny it to them? ❞

❝ Truth was never welcome at that court. ❞

❝ He was a traitor who met a traitor’s end. ❞

❝ He played a part in your father’s fall, but he bore you no ill will. ❞

❝ The king wanted you killed, but he spoke against it. ❞

❝ You think they would harm me? ❞

❝ I should have seen it coming. Was I so blind, or did I close my eyes willfully, so I would not have to see the price of power? ❞

❝ I would give them back to you if I could, but some things are beyond the power of even a queen. ❞

❝ What have I unleashed upon the world? ❞

❝ If they are monsters, so am I. ❞

❝ Are they meant to inflame me? ❞

❝ Would my lord prefer something sweeter? ❞

❝ I will not trust you, but I need you. ❞

❝ A craven’s knife can slay a queen as easily as a hero’s. ❞

❝ He is playing games with me. But I can play as well. ❞

❝ I do not wish to speak of him. ❞

❝ Let us speak instead of love, of dreams and desire. ❞

❝ I am drunk with the sight of you. ❞

❝ Why did you abandon me? ❞

❝ I am almost certain that I asked you for your hand. Begged you, even. ❞

❝ You gave up too easily. ❞

❝ I must marry, all agree. ❞

❝ I am not so foolish as to wed a man who finds a fruit platter more enticing than my breast. ❞

❝ If you will not take me for your husband, I am content to be your slave. ❞

❝ I have been rained on and I have been sold. It is not the same. No one wants to be owned. ❞

❝ Is that meant to frighten me? I lived in fear for years. I woke afraid each morning and went to sleep afraid each night. ❞

❝ Let me stay and help persuade you. ❞

❝ You look . . . weary. Are you sleeping? ❞

❝ You know how much I value your wisdom. ❞

❝ You need a king beside you to help you bear these burdens. ❞

❝ Have you no smile for me? Am I as fearful as all that? ❞

❝ I always grow solemn in the presence of such beauty. ❞

❝ I have never wanted war. ❞

❝ You have not said you love me. ❞

❝ That is not the answer of a man in love. ❞

❝ What is love? Desire? No man could ever look on you and not desire you. ❞

❝ A new time has come, and new things are possible. Marry me. ❞

❝ Kiss me as if I were your wife. ❞

❝ No. I do not love you. ❞

❝ It’s him I want, not you. ❞

❝ One day all men must die, but it serves no good to dwell on death. I prefer to take each day as it comes. ❞

❝ Words are wind, even words like love and peace. I put more trust in deeds. ❞

❝ So it seems that I may wed again. Are you happy for me? ❞

❝ A queen belongs not to herself, but to the realm. ❞

❝ Marriage or carnage, those are my choices. ❞

❝ Did he wed for love or duty? ❞

❝ I know he was very fond of her. ❞

❝ I could become fond of him, in time. ❞

❝ I need to change, to make myself beautiful. ❞

❝ You have grown more beautiful in my absence. How is that possible? ❞

❝ I have missed you so much. ❞

❝ They never told me you were here, or I might have played the fool and sent for you at once. ❞

❝ I have only one urgent need. You. ❞

❝ A man surrounded by foes cannot defend himself. No, when faced with many enemies, choose the weakest, kill him, ride over him and escape. ❞

❝ He is as bold as he is bloody. ❞

❝ He is a monster. A gallant monster, but a monster still. ❞

❝ Do you take me for the Butcher King? ❞

❝ Better the butcher than the meat. ❞

❝ All kings are butchers. Are queens so different? ❞

❝ Most queens have no purpose but to warm some king’s bed and pop out sons for him. ❞

❝ Have you forgotten who I am? ❞

❝ He would make a monster of me. A butcher queen. ❞

❝ There is blood on my hands, too, and on my heart. ❞

❝ I am tired of hearing what you will not do. ❞

❝ Will they joust for me? I should like that. ❞

❝ He plays you for a fool. Do you want a serpent in your bed? ❞

❝ You could not have saved them. ❞

❝ Oh, gods, what have I done? Have I sent him to his death? ❞

❝ I have no more help to give. ❞

❝ I will not turn away from them. A queen must know the sufferings of her people. ❞

❝ I cannot heal them, but I can show them that I care. ❞

❝ Shall I wash your hair? ❞

❝ All those pearls will make me rattle when I walk. ❞

❝ The pearls symbolize fertility. The more a woman wears, the more healthy children she will bear. ❞

❝ Your clothes are stained with blood. Take them off. ❞

❝ Only if you do the same. ❞

❝ I thought you would be the one to betray me. I thought . . . ❞

❝ Promise me that you will never turn against me. I could not bear that. Promise me. ❞

❝ I wanted you from the first time I saw you. ❞

❝ You boasted that you’d had a hundred women. ❞

❝ He has a sellsword’s conscience. That is to say, none at all. ❞

❝ I would give up my crown if he asked it of me. ❞

❝ If I gave up my crown, he would not want me. ❞

❝ I do not want this night to end. ❞

❝ Marry me instead. ❞

❝ You know I cannot do that. ❞

❝ You are a queen. You can do what you like. ❞

❝ Marry me, and we can have all the nights forever. ❞

❝ We cannot wed, my love. You know why. ❞

❝ Once I am wed it will be high treason to desire me. ❞

❝ It has been too long since I’ve killed a man. Might be I should seek out your betrothed. ❞

❝ Are you unwell? In the black of night I heard you scream. ❞

❝ It was the wind that you heard screaming. ❞

❝ It was just a dream. Go back to sleep. ❞

❝ She dares say that in open court? ❞

❝ That smile has won many a maiden’s heart, I’ll wager. ❞

❝ Please, you must not tease me. ❞

❝ Come back to bed and kiss me. ❞

❝ The queen your mother was always mindful of her duty. ❞

❝ A knight is no fit consort for a princess of royal blood. ❞

❝ I never knew my father. I want to know everything about him. The good and . . . the rest. ❞

❝ If he loved you, he would come and carry you off. ❞

❝ How did this happen, that I am drinking and smiling with men I’d sooner flay? ❞

❝ This is peace, so why does it taste so much like defeat? ❞

❝ I want no gifts from you. ❞

❝ There is no honor in him, only hunger . . . for gold, for glory, for blood. ❞

❝ Every child knows its mother. ❞

❝ They are dragons, and so am I. ❞

❝ You have more enemies than you know. ❞

❝ Gods grant that we have made a son tonight. ❞

❝ I heard you crying. ❞

❝ Crying? I was not crying. Why would I cry? ❞

❝ Stay. I do not wish to be alone. ❞

❝ Remind me that there is still good in the world. ❞

❝ I will have you beside me, what other protection do I need? ❞

❝ How much of this do you believe? ❞

❝ I am looking into hell, but I dare not look away. ❞

❝ He takes great pride in his . . . his swordsmanship. ❞

❝ He boasts of bedding me, you mean. ❞

❝ Once I dreamed of flying. ❞

❝ Men are mad and gods are madder. ❞

❝ You are dead. ❞

❝ You never mourned me. It is hard to die unmourned. ❞

❝ I loved you once. ❞

❝ I waited long enough. I waited my whole life. ❞

❝ You lingered in a place that you were never meant to be. ❞

❝ Home was all I ever wanted. ❞

❝ You wanted me. ❞

❝ I was tired. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. ❞

❝ Remember who you are, what you were made to be. ❞

[konigsblog]

more rapist-simon riley THOTS™️ are plaguing me tonight... :3

tw/cw: rape/non-con, intoxication, kidnapping, torture, recording, smut. dead dove: do not eat. MDNI 18+

; kidnapper-simon who finds a sick form of pleasure in torturing you.

it's beyond sickening. any normal and moral person would be disturbed and mortified by simon's desires for control. he's in dire need of having power over someone, to control them like a puppet on strings, putting on a show for the corrupted, debauched men watching.

you went out drinking with your friends, having a little too much to drink, and stumbling out of the bar drunkenly. you're too intoxicated to notice the sound of footsteps flowing behind you, and by the time you realise it, it's all too late before you're captured by a masked man, a balaclava covering his face.

you're awoken to the excruciating and extreme sensation between your soft thighs. your eyes are half-lidded with exhaustion, and the drugs are still having their side effects. simon gazes down at you through the balaclava, the sight of his eyes through the mask intimidating you. he's threatening, and his large and strong build leaves you shaken up as you finally come to the realisation of what's happening. you watch as he slides and fucks his swollen, bulbous cock into your raw and bloody pussy, crimson and ruby smeared across your soft thighs.

you thrash at the burning agony—how merciless simon is with you. the sight of him leaves you whimpering, his black t-shirt sticking to his sweaty, burly body and his eyes piercing through the mask, gazing into yours as you squirm and wriggle, attempting to free yourself. your attempts are laughable; you're bound to a metal table in his basement, cuffs around your wrists holding you down and restraining you. it doesn't matter how loudly you scream and wail; your attempts at freeing and escaping are fruitless. they are used as motivation and encouragement for simon to be harsher on you, with the hope that you'll listen and obey his demands.

he curses you out through breathless grunts and deep growls for screaming and weeping so loudly, his gloved hands pushing your thighs down against the table, fucking your puffy, pretty cunt ‘til it's coated in his pearly creaminess, mixed with the redness of your blood. he shows you no mercy, not sparing you from anything. he's unforgiving, as he uses you for his only gratification and delectation, for profit and gain.

you're a slave to simon, like a puppet on strings, he controls everything you do. he doesn't view you as human, as you're not equal to him. you belong on the ground underneath the dining table, eating whatever scraps simon offers you.

soon enough, you'll finally come to terms with the fact that this is your life now, obeying his every order as he records you for the disgusting men and women watching and getting off to your pain.

[spacebarbarianweird]

In response to the NSFW request post.

How about some body worship? Astarion x fem!Tav? Maaaaybe some oral sex?

Synopsis: As a Half-Elf, Tiriel has serious body image issues, and Astarion knows exactly how to help her accept herself.

Thanks @tragedybunny for beta-reading!

Tags: smut, oral sex, vaginal sex, sex in front of a mirror, praise kink

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

See Yourself Like I See You

"Biri", an elven woman mutters, glancing at Tiriel as she passes by.

The words hurt like burning coals. Tiriel suppresses the desire to yell at the elf. Or hit her. Violence is always an answer but, probably, beating the shit out of the innkeeper's wife isn't a rational choice, considering you travel with a vampire, who needs shelter in the daylight.

"I speak Elven '' Tiriel says loud enough to attract the attention of the Tel'Quessira.

"Oh? Someone bothered to teach you? I didn't offend you, I just... told the truth. You are only half an elf".

"Biri means trash, not just half an elf."

The elf laughs, and her voice sounds like tiny bells. "You know, in the old times, we forbid our men to mate with... N'TelQuessira. And when it happened anyway, we murdered the children not to doom them to be stuck between two worlds."

Tiriel squeezes the hand of her ax. Her elven father was just a passerby, someone whom her mother found attractive enough to forget about the marriage vows and spend a night with. 

The elf left the village for good, and the woman ended up pregnant with a "fairy bastard," she didn't even bother to give a name.

"What surprises me, biri, is that a High Elf chooses to sleep with you. As if he couldn't find someone more worthy to share the bed with."

With those words, the elf disappears, leaving Tiriel alone. She wishes anger and rage were her companions. But it is only a weeping wound, something she buried so deep within that she thought would never return to the surface.

Tiriel rushes upstairs to the room she  rents with Astarion. The vampire is still outside somewhere, stalking the streets of the town like a shadow.

Good. She has plenty of time to return to her senses. Astarion knows her story well enough - how her family despised her, how her siblings tried to kill her but instead awoke rage in her. 

But it is nothing in comparison to what he was through, and Tiriel doesn’t want to discuss it with him. 

Tiriel places her ax on the floor. She trembles as if the elven woman had beaten her.

All her childhood Tiriel heard the same words. Ugly, unworthy, half a human. Beaten.  Harassed. Tiriel still remembers the dirty looks of the village men who dared to see a little girl as something sexual. Her stepfather cut her right ear to suppress his desires - luckily, a village healer stitched it back.

The only hope Tiriel had was that elves were different. She begged the healer’s husband, an old dwarf, to tell her the same stories over and over again - about his old Wood Elf friend and their adventures. She was sure elves would accept her as one of theirs. 

Apparently, humans are much more accepting. 

Tiriel looks in the mirror. Yesterday, Astarion had a good laugh, standing in front of it. The most useless thing to place in the room with a vampire.

Half-something.

Tiriel undresses as if the fabric of her clothes burns her  skin and studies herself in the mirror.

The more she looks, the more miserable she feels.

Her body is composed of two separate parts. The upper half is elven: narrow shoulders, small breasts. The lower part is the human: wide hips of a woman who is supposed to push kids out of her every year. Strong legs. Pale skin is covered in freckles. The ears - too pointy for a human, too short for an elf. Red hair is too difficult to brush. Scars.

One crosses her eye - a memory of the betrayal when her siblings pushed Tiriel down the cliff, hoping she would die. The other is on her back, a burn from the fight with the Elder Brain.

The tadpole suppressed the pain, but once the parasite was gone, Tiriel almost lost consciousness, feeling her skin burn. When she came to her senses, Astarion was nowhere to be seen, and she was afraid he’d died in the sunlight. She yelled at him when he finally showed up after sunset, resembling a beaten stray cat. 

“Stop screaming at me, Tiriel. I feel like I’ve started developing a degrading kink.”

The burn on her back is probably the most disgusting part of her body. Including the body hair.

"Well, that's how I definitely want to be greeted. '' Astarion chuckles, entering the room. "But I'd prefer to undress you myself. Leave at least something for my imagination."

He wears his leather trousers and a white shirt. His old one was torn apart by a bugbear about a month ago, and Tiriel got him another one, almost identical. Though he still complains it feels off.

"Does something bother you, my love?" he asks, noticing her uneasiness.

"No... Nothing. How was your night?"

Astarion chuckles and, instead, approaches Tiriel and hugs her. In the mirror, it looks like she embraces something invisible. She melts in his arms, feeling safe and protected.

"I can tell when you lie but I will be so kind I won't insist."

"It's nothing, really." Tiriel buries her nose in his chest. Astarion is taller than average elven men and she needs to tip-toe to kiss him.

Astarion pulls away looking at Tiriel with his most adorable smile.

"Gods, you are beautiful."

His words feel like a dagger stuck in a fresh wound. Why now? Why this? Tiriel bursts into tears, not able to control them.

"Tiriel, did I... Did I do something wrong?” Astarion stares at her with utter panic in his crimson eyes. 

She tries to tell him. That it's not him. But she just can't. The only word she manages to mumble is an insult.

"Biri"

The moment she says it, panic leaves Astarion’s eyes. Instead, there is anger. 

"Who said it to you?"

His voice is deceptively calm. The innkeeper’s wife must consider herself lucky she didn’t insult Tiriel in the close proximity of Astarion. 

"It's ok, not the first time I heard that. Maybe the first time I heard someone tell me you can find someone more worthy than I because I have dirty human blood"

"Do you want me to kill the bitch who told you that?"

"No. It's just true, Astarion. I am...damn look at me, I am all scars and freckles with two parts of my body taken from different races. I got used to it, I just hoped I would accept it. "

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And I have seen a lot."

Tiriel shakes her head, still crying.

"I am ugly as nine hells."

"Careful, darling, you are talking about my favorite person."

She chuckles but still feels miserable.

"Tiriel, my love, look at yourself."

Astarion takes Tiriel’s chin and forces her to look in the mirror.

“See yourself.” He kisses her neck. “The hair, color of fire, sometimes I think I will burn my fingers touching it. Eyes, one is green like a dry leaf. The other is gray like the autumn sky. The hands are so thin and gentle I am afraid to break your bones.” He goes down with his lips. “Breasts I can cup with my palms. Nipple so sensitive to my touches” he pinches one of them and Tiriel moans.

He stands behind Tiriel placing his chin on her shoulder. The mirror shows only the naked woman, but not the man who whispers the words of praise. Astarion places the hand over her stomach.

“Flat but soft - the best pillow for my head” his fingers go down. “The red pubic hair, even more beautiful than what you have up there…”

Tiriel feels his erection through his trousers. Gods, is it all just enough for him? Just seeing her naked?

She notices his kisses getting stronger and more intense. Astarion doesn’t breathe, but Tiriel knows his mouth is open and eyes are closed as he caresses her skin. 

But the poisonous words still sound in her head.

"Do you trust me?" Astarion whispers in her ear.

Tiriel nods. She feels her own burning desire between her legs.

" I want you to look in the mirror. All the time"

"What?"

Before she manages to object, Astarion tugs her to the bed with him and makes her sit on his lap.

The mirror reflects only one person - and Tiriel looks weird as if floating. Astarion kisses her neck and then places his hands below her thighs and lifts her legs up, spreading them as wide as possible.

"What are you doing?" she gasps. It feels deliciously embarrassing. 

"I want you to see yourself, in every detail.”

Tiriel’s folds are open and she can see her cunt in every detail. The invisible fingers touch her  clit and Tiriel lets out a moan.

"I barely touched you and you are already so wet" Astarion murmurs, coating his fingers in her cunt juice.

Tiriel feels weird with her legs spread - she has never seen herself under such an angle. His thumb keeps drawing circles around her bud as his index finger touches her lower entrance forcing it to contract a bit. 

She feels his bulge below her hips, still hidden behind the front laces of the trousers. She moves a bit causing friction and Astarion gets even harder. 

“I want you” Tiriel mewls. “Please…”

“Be patient, my barbaric love…”

She growls with disappointment but lets him keep torturing her. Tiriel studies herself in the mirror but she still can’t decide if she likes what she sees or not.

Then, Astarion frees her and stands up. For a second, Tiriel is surprised he is still fully clothed.

Tiriel reaches out for his shirt to put it off him but Astarion stops her with his unbearable smile.

“I told you to be patient, Tiriel” Instead he unlaces his trousers, freeing the pale length of his cock.

“You have teased me with your fingers, and now your cock is just a few inches away from my mouth! Don’t speak about patience!”

“Your mouth…” he murmurs. “Yes, it will work.”

He grabs her head forcing her lips to kiss the head of his manhood.

“Don't look at me, look in the mirror!”

Tiriel takes Astarion in her hands and touches the base of his shaft with her tongue. Then she licks it, tracing the blue vein up to the head, forcing the vampire to moan.

She turns her head a bit to see the reflection. Her face is burning red, and drool drips off her mouth. Her  tongue licks something invisible. 

“You look ravishing from up here, Tiriel. Take me with these pretty lips of yours.”

Tiriel opens her mouth a bit and in a second his whole length thrusts into her. She almost gags and tears flush down her cheeks.

The burning between the legs is unbearable and Tiriel starts touching herself as Astarion buckes his hips, fucking her mouth and throat. 

“You take me so good, Tiriel. Your eyes are specifically lovely when you are aroused.” 

Then suddenly when she feels like he is going to ruin her mouth he lets her go and Tiriel gasps for air. A thin string of precum and saliva still connects them.

Astarion kisses Tiriel’s lips, tasting himself on her and then finally gets rid of his shirt and trousers. Then, he sits back on the bed. His cock looks painfully hard. By this time, Tiriel can’t think about anything but the emptiness inside her.

“You look the same when you fight. I wonder if this is because battles make you horny? Or because you see sex as a form of combat? Tell me, what do you want?”

She breathes heavily, still staring at the mirror, not at Astarion. Her body is covered in sweat. Nipples are hardened and the mouth is half-open. The woman in the reflection wants to be taken, ruined…

“I want… you…” 

The vampire grabs Tiriel’s hips and pulls her toward  him. Then, he lies on his back, putting his strong arms on her ribs. 

“And I want you to see yourself. Put me inside you.”

Tiriel squeezes his cock adjusting it to her entrance. 

“You are so beautiful, Tiriel…” Astarion murmurs from below. “So desirable… Whoever told you the opposite is a brainless moron…”

The invisible cock stretches her pussy. Astarion’s manhood is so thick that Tiriel can see herself all the way up to the cervix. 

She moves her hips feeling his amazing length inside.

“My woman. Mine. Only… mine”, he grunts.

Her perky tits sway following the rhythm of the moving bodies. Tiriel’s mind is empty and her mouth just makes whimpering sounds.

Astarion tightens his grip around her as his own release gets closer. Tiriel doesn’t feel her legs as the orgasm takes over her. Powerful contractions tear through her body as his cum fills her to the brim.

Tiriel elbows up to see her entrance better. The cock much softer than it was seconds ago is taken away from her pussy and the cum leaks out.

“Look at yourself," Astarion says. “You are completely ruined.”

He tugs Tiriel with his arm and once their faces are in front of each other he starts kissing her cheeks and lips.

“Speak ill about yourself once again, and I am going to fuck you into a state of unconsciousness.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time!”

Astarion laughs and Tiriel finally manages to free herself and lay beside him. He immediately wraps his hands around her.

“But I mean it. I know why you think bad of yourself. But it isn’t true. There is no such thing as an ugly half-elf. And you are… something even in comparison with them. Among the elves, you would be a fucking goddess of war, with your red hair and strong legs. All these talks about dirty blood are nothing, but the frustration of elves who aren’t worthy of anything. Tiriel, promise me, if you feel bad you tell me.”

“I just don’t want you… you know…”

“I am not made of glass, Tiriel. I need you and not only when I have nightmares. But you also need me. That’s the deal, isn’t it? Be there for each other.”

“It’s weird to compare my struggles with yours,” Tiriel admits. 

Astarion gently touches her cheek with his finger. “Struggles are struggles. No one has a right to abuse a little child and call her a freak for what she is. No one has a right to tell a complete stranger she is nothing but trash below the “true people's” feet. Besides, we can always kill people we don’t like.”

Tiriel giggles and buries her nose in the crook of his neck. She feels too sleepy for a bath or any sort of aftercare and allows herself to relax. 

**

Tiriel is sound asleep and she doesn’t wake up even when Astarion cleans her skin of sweat and cum. He studies her body, noticing the fresh bruises and old scars. Then, Astarion lies beside her covering them both with a blanket.

He doesn’t need to sleep but he can spend his hours of reverie right now. 

It still troubles Astarion - the very point of the elven trance is to relive the moments of their long lives to remember, to carve them in memory. But he doesn’t want to remember anything before he became free. Before he met Tiriel. 

Memories flood him and he hopes he will have enough willpower to not see anything nightmarish.

The meadow bathes in moonlight. Astarion stays there, waiting. Waiting for this half-elven warrior to seduce and sleep with. To make sure she protects him, helps. Well, it will probably require some talk, some sweet words - but she will be his. 

“You are an idiot”, Astarion says to himself from the past. “Your simple plan will end up with you not being able to think about anything else but Tiriel.”

“Hello, Astarion.”

He turns around and sees her, the fierce leader of their small group.

Absolutely naked. 

Tiriel looks at him with no fear. With a challenge. He can’t take his eyes off her. Probably, Vandria, the Elven Goddess of War, looks like that without her divine armor. 

Astarion concentrates. He wants to remember the first time he saw Tiriel like that, the first time he had her, even though his intentions were pathetic to the very least.

“And what do you want, Astarion?” she asks, getting closer to him.

The question strikes him. What does he want? He doesn’t remember anyone asking him that. He wants… What? This woman? Revenge? Freedom? He doesn’t know.

Tiriel is so close he can hear her heartbeat. She kisses him. With passion, with desire. 

For the first time. It is the first time she kisses him. 

Astarion embraces the memory. He didn’t know at that moment - but that was when he fell.

The reverie slowly lets him go, and the woman he’s dreamt about is still by his side. 

--

@tugoslovenka@marcynomercyy @wintersiree @vixstarriarria @not-so-lost-after-allafter-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea@micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-belovedd @tallymonsterter @caitlincat-95cat-95 @tragedybunnyy @valepratirati @lynnlovesthestarshestars @marina-and-the-diam0nds-bloge-memes @waking-electricectric

[littlerequiem]

Hi Flo!

Number 27 for Levi please! Thanks ✨

Hi Terra, hope you're doing well. Thanks for the request!

content warnings: a hand job, slight sub!levi x dom!reader undertones, gn!reader (wc: ~700 words)

Prompt 27: “Don’t you think you deserve this?” (18+ - MDNI)

“Levi, don’t you think you deserve this?” you ask him that Sunday morning, whispered words on his skin.

The dewy light trickles into the room, blending between tangled limbs and messy sheets. Levi’s black hair is tousled and messy; his flushed skin shines with a thin layer of sweat.

Levi doesn’t say a word to you, his body twitching under your touch.

He looks so beautiful like this, you think to yourself.

You've been teasing Levi like this for a while, pressing on every sensitive point you know he likes so much: capturing his lips, nibbling on his ears, bruising his neck, and now… you've arrived at his soft spot.

His thighs.

Slowly, you glide your fingertips along the inner parts of his legs, drawing patterns around the weathered lines left by his ODM gear. You watch the way he shudders under your touch, huffing out labored breaths you know he's trying to control.

“Because you do, you know,” you whisper. “You deserve all of this and so much more.”

Pink dusts his cheeks, his eyes screwing shut.

Levi turns away from you and your sweet words. “Tch, don’t say shit like that,” he mutters, adopting a gravelly tone that's typical of the man who hates verbalizing emotions.

But that’s why he has you. Because maybe better than most, you understand the subtle ways emotions are drawn on his face, and make sure Levi’s aware of them too.

It’s taken years, but you’ve learned.

And, oh, you love to remind the Captain of all the words he can never admit to himself.

“I don’t want to stop saying these words to you,” you answer at last, your fingers wandering up. You find bliss between his legs—he’s harder and warmer than you expected—and you slowly grab his curved erection, the girth of him fitting perfectly in your hand. You stare briefly at him, hearts in your eyes. “I want to marvel at you, Levi.”

Pre-cum weeps out of his flustered tip. His hips roll, as if begging for your touch.

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” you ask him in a breathy tone, licking your lips as you marvel at the sight of him beneath you. “You'll let me admire you, right?”

Levi grits his teeth, still silent, eyes glazed as he stares up at you. His lips part, his self-control wilting.

“Shit,” is all he finally says, staring at you with a petulant expression.

You smile coyly, watching as his blush spreads to his neck. Desire swims in your brain.

“So fucking pretty,” you praise him, feeling your own arousal quiver between your legs.

Levi’s eyes turn dangerous. “Quit being so damn moony, will you?”

You laugh.

With your hand still on his sex, you move to kiss both his rosy cheeks, and he catches your lips to coax you into a searing kiss. His mouth is slick with saliva, slightly rough like the texture of linen.

You moan into him, deepening the kiss to feel the familiarity of his tongue. Levi tastes like fresh rain and tea and home.

Levi slides his fingers through your hair, cupping the side of your face to trail heady kisses along your jaw. All the while, you continue to pump his erection with your pliant hand, increasing your speed to match the urgency of his kisses.

“Maybe I am moony, my Captain," you breathe, smirking against his lips, "but it’s your fault. You made me like this.”

Foreheads now touching, you gaze at the muted silver in Levi's eyes, the way his pupils swirls black with desire.

Slowly, you drag your thumb over the veins of his cock—a treacherous glide that sparks a strong reaction from your partner. A small groan escapes Levi, his erection pulsing in your hand.

His jaw falls slack. “F...fucking moony. Hurry up already.”

“Mm. As my Captain commands,” you tease, increasing the speed of your stokes, taut in a heartbeat.

And moments later, when his cum spills in waves of pearly white, you'll marvel at the sight of Levi—flustered and glistening—an image that's yours to cherish for the day to come.

—Masterlist