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hrdenha · 1 month

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— good guys could never | p.sh

synopsis: It's friday night, the night where people get loose after a hell ass week. As usual, there's a party at your brothers house, the same time you and park sunghoon, one of your brother's friend, have your own little party inside your room or... inside you.

pairings: older brother's friend!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT having sex while there's a party, fucking your brother's friend, bed slamming through the wall, mouth covering, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP!), exhibition, one leg up, two leg up, dirty talk, calling names, sex against the wall (🤭), asshole sunghoon, y/n getting stars and tears in her eyes, y/n getting dumb from cock (sunghoon's cock) so she requested something 😬, this story becomes kind of dark at the last part, ngl. let me know what you think.

It's friday night, people wants to relax and have fun — getting the toxicity of the past week out your system. That's just what the fun people do. But, for you... you prefer a different type of detox just like a tradition for other passing friday nights.

You can clearly hear the loud music and laugh from the people downstairs even though it was muffled from how your room is located at the third floor which is off limits for the outsiders. In addition to that, the only sounds you can hear are the hard pouncing of your bed on the walls and the vibration of groans coming from the man behind who's currently rutting his hardened cock inside you, bareback.

"Fuck... Sunghoon..." You whimpered, eyes glistens trying to look at him over your left shoulder, who just moaned in return. He's hitting it deep, continuously hitting that spot deliciously that made you a moaning mess. He grabs your neck, squeezing it hard enough to put the right pressure before biting your shoulder softly that added to your pleasure causing you to squeeze him tight.

"Roll on your back..." He quietly said that you immediately did without complaining. His cock still inside when you did so.

"Th-there" You whimper when sunghoon thrust again. "You're s-so thick..."

Sunghoon groans, before you feel him whispering in your ears, pace still unweaving. "You're squeezing me... tight" You were about to moan when he put his hands over your mouth, still thrusting inside. "How does it feel to be a dumb slut from a cock? from my cock, huh?"

You whimpered, not even thinking about answering that question. The only thing in your mind right now is how fucking good you feel. How sunghoon's cock got the thickness and length you need to hit all the spots.

"You like this..." He whispered. You felt his hot breath as he chuckled on your ears, still rutting his cock deep inside. "From the moment you caught me having sex with some girls on the guest room, you imagined me fucking you so good with my cock."

"Wishing it was you who will feel my length in here, stuffing your pussy just the way you like..." You felt his hands trace your lower abdomen, pushing it down slightly earning him a scream of pleasure from you.

Sunghoon's pace picked up, "You're such a slut." Your legs automatically opened up more, accommodating his trust even deeper inside you. If you were wet earlier, now, you're practically a waterfalls.

"Poor chan... didn't know his sweet baby sister is just a slut in a good girls clothing." He cooed locking his eyes on your glistening ones. "The one who'll let her brother's friend to have his way on her. One that will do everything just for me to touch her"

And as soon as that words leave out of his mouth, so is the feeling of his cock inside you. "Come here" He demanded standing not far from your bed.

You immediately stand up, walking in front of him as sunghoon welcomed you with a dirty kiss on the lips. You instantly melt from the way his tongue gently explore your cavern. Sunghoon felt that, smirking in between the kiss before pushing you onto the wall, trapping you in between with his body.

"I've never been the good guy, y/n. You should know that" You felt him raising your leg onto his shoulder causing you to hook your arms on his neck, practically doing vertical split as slam his hardened dick inside. "Besides, good guys could never fuck you this good"

"Fuck, so hot" He groaned pulling you into a messy kiss as his thrust got faster, his right hand busy with the cheeks of your ass while the other one playing with your nipples. You moaned into the kiss when sunghoon flicks it. Fuck, feels so good.

"So, perfect huh? Can't believe your pussy still squeezing me tight after having me inside for a long time."

"Su-sunghoon"

"Yes, call my name slut."

He chuckled hooking his arms on your other leg that still supporting you before raising it together with the other one. "Oh, fuck" You cursed, when you felt his tip sliding deeper inside.

"Oh, fu-fuck hoon" Both of your feet on his shoulder, trusting into you his pace unrelenting. The wall behind gives much support that he needed, sunghoon trapped you to where he wanted you to be. Where you belonged.

"Shit, tight as fuck. You're too tight for your own good, y/n."

"I'm close..." You moaned loudly not caring if someone will hear. You don't care at all. The sound of slapping of wet skins filled your room, so is the filthy wet sounds and curses coming from you and sunghoon.

"Don't come untill I told you to." He doesn't need to say it. There's a threat in his tone and you knew better than to try your luck. "Gotta take what I give, darling" Your eyes dart on his which is now doing the same too. His thrusts are still unwavering... deep, hard, and it was making your head spin. But, there's something on his eyes that makes you feel more than what you possibly should have.

It didn't took long when you felt his dick twitch inside. "Come for me" And you gladly do so as his thrust gets erratic, groaning onto your neck as you shivers feeling your walls be painted with thick white lines. Your hands on his neck slowly losing their support from the intensity. But then sunghoon keeps you on your position, but now with your legs safely secured around his waist, his dick still not leaving inside you.

You let him though. It was a good feeling, having him still stuffed inside you. It made you shiver when he walked towards you bed with you still on his waist. His dick thrusting softly inside you as he walk.

Sunghoon laid you to your bed, and was about to pull out when you stopped him silently.

He smirked, "what does my dumb slut want?"

"Fuck me again, please. Fuck me when I do my homeworks, fuck me when I'm in the showers, fuck me on my sleep, overstimulate me... i don't care. Just fuck me again, sunghoon"

Sunghoon's eyes darkened, his black hair falling perfectly on his eyes adding to the shadow that didn't failed to make you shiver not on fear but from being turned on. You can tell he was turned on by your thoughts. He just have to pull your strings. "I don't like the tone of your voice, darling"

"I'm sorry bu—"

"But, who am i to decline that right?"

You exhaled locking your teary eyes on him as his cock slowly thrusting again, stimulating your sensitive whole. Both of you cursed under your breath, "fuck me dumb that the only thing i can think of is your cock, sunghoon."

"But, what if your brother catch us? Don't you care about your brother anymore?"

"I don't care... I don't. The only thing I want is you, please" You whispered trying to keep your eyes open to look straight at sunghoon but the pleasure you're feeling is making it hard to do so.

You need him to swallow you. To possess you. To own you, you don't even care anymore.

"Hmm, let me think about that..." He replied looking down at your fucked up face like a predator having fun with his own prey.

He had you where he needs you. He successfully turn you into what he wants. It's not an accident when you saw him having sex with other girls. That's only one of the many traps sunghoon planted to make you come around. And, you did come around. Oh, you come around so good you didn't even have the idea. Besides, he's never been the good guy.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #park sunghoon #lee heeseung #sim jaeyun #enhypen au #park jongseong #enhypen ff

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pursuitseternal · 1 month

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“Knowledge is a dangerous weapon:” Bookworm!Tav, Vampiric Spawn Powers, and Breeding—“Bites” Update 📚

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4.6K of banter and breeding

Based on an anonymous prompt

(HBD @lipstickghoulie )

Summary: You have always loved your books and a challenge, when your Vampire Rogue learns his starvation has kept him from his full powers, you take him up on his challenge to teach him the skills that are his due. As you draw closer together, he finds that one bit of information you have failed to teach him… how to make a dhampire

CW: light mocking of Astarion’s ditziness, Spawn Spidercrawl, catching powers and feelings, flirty touching, creepy silent vampire moves, Breeding talk, no babies just breeding, Mating Press™️

Ao3 link | Series link | Masterlist

📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚

You always knew he was… dumb. Thick headed. Unobservant.

Okay, at times the comments from his thick, rosy lips were just plain stupid. “That lever… must do something…” That was a wonderful moment, one that earned him your eyes rolling so far back in your skull they hurt. “We have some words and some… circles…. Wonder what they do….” Another example of his unparalleled intelligence.

Not to mention the countless times he failed to remember any of the major gods and their shrines as you passed through crypts and defiled chapels.

For as handsome as he was, for as sultry and seductive as you found him, he was… smoothed-brained. But as your journey forced you closer together, you couldn’t help but think some of it may be merely pretense, he was a magistrate after all. He was abused and tortured for centuries, surely that does things to one’s mind. And he was always reading. Every day, every night at camp, his beautiful aquiline nose stuck in a book, crimson eyes devouring the words at a breakneck speed.

One to even rival your own thirst for knowledge.

Maybe it was that you allowed the poor Spawn a chance to drink living, thinking blood for once. Your own. Maybe that was what began to take his little, stupid moments and turn them into something endearing.

Not that he was gracious when you corrected his ignorance. Every time, he gave that adorable, grumpy harumph and then defended his comments, or… since he started feeding from you, he’d just look at your neck still freshly marked and lick his lips. That really shut you up. Set you on fire.

But it wasn’t until you needed him to reach that last little chest up on the crumbling ledge inside some dank cavern that you realized his ignorance wasn’t wholly pretend.

Astarion, vampire spawn, didn’t know just what he should be capable of. He looked positively befuddled when you told him to just climb the brick wall. His sass had been sharp, “I’m not some spider, darling.”

“But you can spider climb, you dolt,” you had laughed imitating his tone, trying to call his bluff on skills he should have, at least according to what you had read in your book. A Spawn should scale such a wall with immense ease.

He just narrowed his crimson eyes at you, a snarl on his lips as he shook his head. “I have never performed such an act, darling, nor have any of my brothers and sisters, those of us Cazador kept for his bidding. Better check your precious facts in your precious tomes before you throw your assumptions on my prowess… dear.”

You still shiver at that night. Back at camp. When you ignored the way he bristled as you approached him in front of his tent. He had sneered at you, readying his next acerbic quip for you… Until you sat so close beside him, settling the heavy book in his lap. Leaning in, you point to the page. Traits and Strengths of the Vampiric Spawn.

You felt him cease breathing, his left hand clutching at the edge of the book growing even whiter. “Astarion,” you breathed. Leaning in more, you looked into his eyes, his gaze scanning the words so quickly on the aged vellum. And then he shoved you by your cheek out of his sightline. He needed to finish this.

“Why, I should be positively remarkable, assuming your book is correct,” he sighed, as if he saw a vision, a dream fulfilled. One where he was powerful.

You nodded as his crimson eyes flashed at you, wide with wonder. “You mentioned Cazador never let you feed enough, and not from thinking creatures.” He nodded, skeptical even as his eyes fixated on your lips. “Well, what you did not know was that denying you a sufficient diet meant also restricting you from your full powers, even as a Spawn, Astarion. You should be able to climb up walls and ceilings, move swifter, lift boulders too much for even Karlach to manage. You should be able to heal almost instantaneously, without potion or feeding.”

“And now?” he replied, that little tremor of hope in his voice unmistakable as his hand traced over the page of your book.

“Well, it’s a difficult deduction, since you have our unwelcome illithid parasite. But now that you are feeding regularly, even from thinking creatures, you should find the effects more than just making you feel… happy,” you rambled on. Even as you kept talking, his eyes glued their gaze to your neck, your lips. If you weren’t mistaken, they even dipped down the v-shaped cut of your tunic.

“So… the more I drink from thinking creatures, the stronger and more powerful I will be?” he murmured, a slight grit in his throat as his eyes definitely darted down your bosom now.

“Y-yes,” you rejoined, sliding back just a touch.

And he slid that touch closer, and then some.

“You’ll help me, won’t you, darling? You’ll help me learn these skills? Give me all I require to access my full potential….” His eyes looked wet, the ruby irises glowing in the flickering firelight. “Please?” he adds with that smirk and that single arching brow of his made you stomach flutter and heart thump so hard in your chest.

“I…” you started, but he only seemed to lean ever closer.

“You know, when I was a Magistrate, back in the City, I would have craved someone with intelligence like yours. We would have been rivals, colleagues…” his eyes dip once more shamelessly up and down your seated body. “Perhaps lovers even,” he breathed. “I always surrounded myself with those of highest intellect, darling. Intelligence is so… undervalued by many, and knowledge is a dangerous weapon, but I see you, my darling. Won’t you please come to my aid now?”

“We… we can try,” you had whispered, barely able to the let the words from your lips with how you seemed to seize under the intensity of his stare.

“Wonderful,” he purred, catching your cheek, your chin in his cool palm. “I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”

You squirmed as his thumb began to brush beneath your lip.

“…to put my new strengths to the test I mean, of course.” He smirked that little bit more twistedly. More seductively. And you knew he heard your heart beating in your artery, your blood rushing under his touch in your veins to pool lower. It was his nature, and you knew more of it than he did.

“Of course…” you breathed. “I’d be happy to help.”

“Then it’s settled,” his voice was thick in his throat, you relished the way his other arm stole around you, clutching at you back to bring you all the closer under his heady spell of charm and seduction. “All that’s left is to seal our new arrangement somehow…”

He pushed that heavy book off his lap, sliding to bring you into completely flushed against him. You’re sure your pulse was raging so loudly, it’s deafened his pointed and twitching ears. That chilled, corpse-cold touch under your chin tilts you up just… so…

You melted, closing that distance between your lips. Every logical thought dispersed in the wind of your desire, that panting breath that passed from your lungs into his.

That’s how this all began, and where it had brought you to this moment, where he clings to the ceiling of a massive cavern filled with both the stink of Gnolls and the vile creatures themselves. Dagger gripped in between his glinting fangs. He readies himself with a look of pure and dark excitement. He loves this. He misses this when it’s just you all back in the quiet of camp, where he tests his ever growing strength and climbing abilities, where he drinks from you every night before he hunts in the dark.

Where he slowly makes you more and more aware of your awakening body the more he touches you and caresses and kisses you. Always every night. Always between your increasingly intellectual discussions about vampiric powers and the moment he sinks his fangs into your skin to feed. He always leaves you after dark, his own belly sated, while you… you grow all the hungrier. Needier. You want more debate, more analysis, more of his body covering yours as he drinks you down.

But not anything more. Not yet. Even as you knew he was edging closer to asking you for sex. Even if he didn’t know all the… implications. After all, knowledge was a dangerous weapon.

You shake your head to free yourself from the longing thoughts of past nights and burning expectations of the night to come. You give him the signal, watching him release with flawless precision, dagger in hand now, as he falls from his spider-perch.

The Gnolls never see you coming, not before your endearingly ferocious Vampire Spawn lands with preternatural grace on their heads and vivisects them before you even reach their location.

He pants as you get at least one good shot from your bow, right for the last twitching body on the ground.

It’s not until you smile, satisfied, you notice that Astarion’s pale skin is riddled with scratches and tears from the beasts’ claws. He holds out his arms, rolling up his sleeves and smiling. Enjoying the sight of his vampiric body healing before his eyes. That crimson gaze practically glows as he looks at you over the carnage. “See something you like, my sweet?” he purrs, arching that brow, just for you, as if the others in your party aren’t even there.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, turning to find the coveted chest of supplies, that Zhentarim sigil on it is no deterrent to you. Not when your Vampire Spawn can charm anyone to do anything now. “We better head back to camp,” you kneel before the strong chest, trying your hand to pick the iron lock.

“Tch,” his voice brushes your ear, physically tickling the small stray hairs that make you gasp. “You know I’m far more skilled with my fingers, especially when it comes to slipping inside…” You shudder to feel him crouching right behind you, his thighs pressed against your ass, his waist brushing your lower back. “…Slipping inside chests, locks, that sort of thing,” he adds louder, just to appease your unease. That dexterous touch has only grown all the smoother and stronger and sneakier now that he has fed well for a while.

He is so sneaky in fact, only one of his hands actually works the lock pick for a moment, the other quickly skates up your leg, tracing the inner seam of your buckskin breeches almost to the peak of your thigh. He laughs in your ear as you muffle a noise under your own palm.

“Soldiers, you really need four hands to pick one lock? Haven't you gotten better, Fangs, now that our fearless leader has let you suck on her and tutor you in being a Spawn?” Karlach chortles, her feet swaying side to side in that perpetual motion dance she seems to do.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Astarion throws the barb over his shoulder, letting you bury your face to hide the tweaks of ecstasy at the corners of your eyes as his fingers keep moving higher… higher. “Some silent performance only you get to savor, it seems?”

“If I didn't know better…” Gale’s pedantic voice draws closer.

“There now,” Astarion crows like the proudest rooster of them all, his hand quickly leaving the edge of your mound to twist that pick and pop the lock just as Gale peers from behind. “Look at all this loot,” he groans and stands, satisfied as he folds his arms over his chest. “Good thing you have a strong, well-fed Vampire to bring it back with us. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

He smirks down at you, hand extended to help you to your feet. Back to the rest, he flashes you that fang-toothed smirk that he knows sets your pulse galloping out of control. Pulling you up, he has to steady you in your legs, near boneless as they are with just that tease of pleasure. “Calm yourself darling, you're making my undead heart hurt sympathetically from all that… excitement,” he rasps right into your ear once you’re on your feet before him, releasing you in favor of bags of treasure and potions and loot to stuff in his pack.

Your mind is racing as your trod back towards your little camp well off the Risen Road for good measure. Thoughts scramble, worries peak their heads up, and you can’t stop thinking about the rest of what you have learned reading about vampires. Necessary research for you, particularly since Astarion has seemingly added flirtation and seduction into your witty repartee this last tenday. So far, you’ve managed to keep his wandering eyes from those pages when he glances through your tomes. He seems to prefer every little dip of your skin where he can see it at any rate. So far, you’ve managed to keep his hands in places on your body that are not too dangerous, yours on his as well.

But something inside you knows that tide is shifting. He wants to offer you more in exchange for more… and… well, if it doesn’t just make your body thrum with life in ways no books had and no previous interests had either.

He has beaten you back to camp, haphazardly tossed the loot for the rest of you to sort out in the center of camp. You know he’s waiting in his tent, now that the sun has begun to trek lower and lower. It’s time for your research, for your indulgence of his strength, and… whatever else might happen.

His tent is dimly lit as you enter, a mess of blankets and pillows, some fine and some in tatters. Stacks of books in the corners have replaced the blood bank bottles you first found here to clutter his space.

But no Astarion.

You tilt your head confused, settling down on one pillow, more or less intact, reaching for an apple he keeps in his stash of food just for you. Just to replenish you between his own feedings. As you bite into the hard skin, as the juice fills your mouth, you reach for a book, some ancient law book he found in the ruins of that village. Must make him think of his old life.

The pages are old and soft in your fingers, your eyes absentmindedly skimming the long words and complex sentences as you chew.

Peaceful. Until you realize it’s far too quiet.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, that feeling of being watched creeping up your spine. Turning, mid bite, you peer into the shadowed corner of his tent behind you.

Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the dark, just a hint of glinting teeth as he smiles and drinks in your fear and surprise. He laughs to hear you hiss as you jump in your seat. “There you are,” he croons from his darkened corner. “I’ve been waiting.”

“F-f-for what?” you force a smile and force your breath to steady all at once. He slides closer, settling down right beside you, and you notice your worn book in his hand, the smile on his face is sultry.

And predatory.

And for a moment, you regret teaching him as much as you have about his untapped powers.

“When were you going to tell me about your little bit of… research… on the side?” his voice is chilling, his brow arching as he flips the book open right to the back.

Right where you had been trying so hard to prevent his eyes from skimming, his ambitious brain from devouring the knowledge.

Your body is hot and rigid, and you know from the way his pointy ears twitch, he hears your pulse. You know from the way that his nostrils flare that he smells your arousal, the slick that dampens your underthings just to be this close to him again after his little stunt today.

“If my observations are correct… and they usually are…” he purrs, even though the stack of evidence to the contrary is vast. But you bite your tongue as he continues, your heart leaping at the topic he is about to breach. “You sound and smell eager to discuss this topic if dhampires, my darling.”

You swallow, watching so heated and frozen as he slides so gracefully to place the weight of that tome in your own lap, his fingers removing the half-eaten apple from your fingers to toss to the side. Then he brings their sticky, juicy tips to his mouth to suck them clean.

You moan, unbidden, at the wet and vigor with which his tongue cleans every crevice of those digits.

“Now, I’d hate to be left wondering just why my intelligent, little darling would withhold such a vital… potent… part of my unrevealed powers as a vampire?” he sets your hand back on your thigh, a little extra brush of his fingers, returning to trace that seam inside your breaches as he had before. “Is she… curious? Afraid? Is this why she has been just so hesitant during our…” he grips your chin, turning your head with commanding force until there is nowhere else to look but his deep crimson eyes, “…late night trysts?”

“It’s not something one just… brings up, Astarion,” you try to flatten your tone, even as that one hand still traces up and around your thigh. “It’s just not… done…”

Something about his eyes softens, “It would be important to discuss, you know, for there is more that I would like to share with you than just witty banter and blood…” his tone dips low into a rumble. “It’s not something I would have known, not a concern I would have shared until I knew of it…”

“There’s more to it than you might know,” you squeak as his fingers press into that slot between your legs. “Now that you’re well-fed, you’ll feel actual….”

You swallow the word. His touch presses hard enough into your folds through your breaches to make them soaked. And you, wanton you, you give a breath and a buck of your hips to keep his fingers there.

“Pleasure,” he smirks, eyes scanning your face as your force your eyes back open, halfway at least. “Yes, I gathered as much. The more I feed, the more I come alive… alive enough to perhaps even bestow a new life…” he squints a grin at you, your mouth slack as he draws that touch just as hard again, “…perhaps one day.”

You arch your body, trying to slip closer. Your secret is out, your anxious thoughts over clandestine information dispersed in the air. And so, the next words from your mouth just build on all that you had been swallowing down.

“Yes, perhaps one day…” you sigh, leaning back on your hands to try to give him full access to your cunt. “Perhaps one day, we could test out those powers together.” Your voice shakes with excitement, it’s pressed with the sincerity you feel for him.

“Oh, my love,” he smirks and reaches both arms around your waist. That newfound strength pulls you flush into his lap, until your molten, silk-soaked center presses against where he’s hardening. “You always know what to say… Seems like quite the power that will take much preparation and proper timing…” He brings your fingers back to his lips as he kisses them softly. “I’d have to feed on more than just a bear and more than just sips from my little treat, sweet as you are…”

You nod, once or twice, before losing yourself in the bliss of his tongue on the tingling inner skin of your wrist. Barely more than a lap before his fangs pierce your skin and suck you down. Your very essence, your living blood pools in his belly, you feel it coursing in his veins. It fills him and hardens him beneath your hips in an instant.

“Well, practice makes perfect you know,” he croons, bloodied lips barely hovering off your own. “I can tell from your scent you are not… in season…. And I have only had the single little taste.”

You pant, writhing at the scratch of your clothing, you long to rip it off and toss it where your book has long since been abandoned. “Sounds right to me,” you hiss, arms tucking around his neck to lower those arrogant stupidly handsome lips to your mouth.

Astarion’s throat rumbles with a growl, the taste of your blood fresh in his mouth as he rolls you on your back. Primal. Feral. He’s your powerful vampire, blood in his body, lust in his brain. And you want to put it all to the test—your own little experiment to match his enthusiastic desire for you. His touch is lightening fast and strong, pulling off your clothing, swift and sure and careful until every inch of your bodies are bare.

Strength hums in his muscles, even as his hands gently caress your cheek, your neck still sore from all his feeding. His body presses you into the pile of blankets that cover his plank of a bed. His hips grind your belly, your thighs are pulled almost against your chest until you’re spread wide open for him. But for every jolt of his cock as it prods above you and drips his early cum on to your belly, his kisses on your lips are sweet, gentle. A silent movement of gratitude for all your willing aid. Those fingers drag their slightly warmed touch around your breast, kneading it tenderly. With every arch of your back, you can almost catch the base of his cock inside your folds.

And you shake. You quiver. You’d had a few lovers, mostly boring and few and far between. But never has your body burned for anyone like it does for him.

As if his vampire touch is calling your blood to pool beneath it. Not one traditional strength, but with Astarion, you aren’t totally sure he doesn’t have some unnatural ability to command your body. To make your blood pound and sing just for him.

“What a good girl,” he rasps, a grind of his hips to send that cock near your navel, over your skin. “I can feel your heat for me from here. Just waiting to be fucked full.” His mouth descends quickly but carefully, only taking a single nipple in his lips. Sucking hard, he pops off with a loud wet noise.

Almost as loud as your moan.

“So ready, aren’t you?” His question weighs you down, your eyes half shut to savor the way he drags back with that length, sliding it in just an inch or so into your aching sex. “I’m waiting…” he growls, and you sob as he pulls even that little bit of his tip back out.

“Yes, hells below, yes,” you pant, hands flying to claw into his ass. Pulling him towards your throbbing core.

That blunted tip prods just barely inside you again. “You want me to fill you?” he rasps.

You nod, your teeth biting your lip hard enough to bleed.

“You want me to fill your belly like you let me fill mine with your sweet blood?” he grips his arms around your shoulders, pressing harder into, cock sliding in another little bit. “Fuck you so many times, my cum will drip from you for days?”

“Yes, Astarion…” you breathe, his mouth devouring your words, ready to swallow your cry as he does, finally, fill you.

You feel the gravity of his body crushing you, his legs braced with every tendon taught as he snaps his hips into. It’s so deep, so driving the way he fucks. And every thrust slaps your flesh and smacks his balls against your ass, but you love it. His breath dampens your collarbone, arms wrapped so tightly around you, you can do nothing but hold on for dear life. Your thighs burn from how they’re bent into your stomach almost, your folds leaking with arousal, and the drag of his cock touches every part of your walls and slams against your channel’s end.

He licks your shoulder, wet tongue lapping up to the artery in your neck. Where it pulses and dances in time with his beat inside you. Flushed and boiling, speared on his length, you pant, suffocated deliciously until you burst. Your visions swimming and muscles contorting in his press, you scream for him. You can hear your arousal, your slick, coating his thighs as his thrusts only increase with speed.

Lifting his head, he sweeps a hand down your sweat-drenched belly, palm bracing just below your navel. His push is relentless, hard and gradual enough you feel it behind your belly, how he gives you resistance from outside against that constant ramming of his cock at your deepest point. It’s enough to throw you into another coil of bliss instantly. “Good girl, so wet and dirty and waiting to be filled…'' he finally speaks through his panting. And he pushes on your belly once more, grunting with each fuck as he comes undone.

As he thrusts and spills his seed, prodding the full length of him to the deepest point yet. You can feel it almost sticking through your skin as he pulses. As he spills, burst after burst, he still rams that end of your cunt.

Beads of sweat drip from his forehead as he looks down your body, and how your skin is wet and flushed and marked from where he gripped you so fiercely.

He smiles and licks his lips. You try to clamber out, but his hand only comes to rest on your shoulder. “Ah ah,” he tutts his tongue at you, slipping out, only to take two of his fingers to play in your mix of cum, slipping it back inside you over and over again. “You’ll need to practice too, and you’ll need to rest to keep all of me inside of you.”

You shudder, a smile wide on your mouth, aroused and embraced, half hidden behind the back of your hand as you cover your face.

“Tch,” he chides you, pulling that hand from your face, “none of that, my darling. I’ll watch every bit of your blush darken your cheek until you’re ready to go again.”

“Again?” you choke. Your hips already feeling stretched and sore, you lay them flat and try to ease the aches.

“Oh yes,” he purrs, “you’ll have to build your strength the old fashioned way, my treat. Now,” he gives your ass a little smack on the side as he lifts it, “on your knees, darling…”

You finally take a breath, freed from his wiry, heavy frame. One cool hand settles between your shoulder blades to have you rest your head on his bedding. But that other hand pulls your hips up, slipping through your juices and teasing your clit until you buck back against his belly. You breathe contentedly, savoring the way his fingers caress you, worship you.

You close your eyes, wriggle your hips, already craving that stretching fullness inside you. A future with him at your side during the day as your strong, well fed vampire… and on your back and knees and belly and any way he would want you during the long nights with your virile lover.

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heartlyrins · 10 days

Note

Sooo I saw that you write for lnd 👉🏼👈🏼

Can I pretty please ask for big brother Zayne? I don't mind either being incest or stepcest you can pick

A fic would be lovely but just general headcanons of what you think big brother Zayne would be to reader would be fine too!! 🥺

- 🫧

PLAYING NURSE FOR BIG BROTHER !

˚₊‧desc— Zayne always needs a nurse at home, fortunately his little sister is there!

˚₊‧tw— dark content, incest, incest, incest, INCEST, smut, blowjob, riding, bimbo!reader, big brother!Zayne, reader is of age but very sheltered

˚₊‧a/n— My first named Anon and my first lnd ask!! Sorry I can't write a long full fic rn, I'm too busy :(

Growing up, you've always been under the care of your big brother. Once your parents died, you truly had nobody but him.

And it's not like you mind, you love your big brother! You wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Just the thought of your big brother being forced to work makes you sad the whole day.

Everytime he comes home, he says that you have to play nurse for him! That includes giving him medicine, bathing him, and giving him little kisses all over his face!

But there were times where he told you to do some.. extra tasks as a nurse. Why, of course it includes sucking his cock like a good girl.

Overtime, you realize all these 'extra tasks' seems to includes his cock one way or another. He says that it's normal for nurses to do that.

Sometimes nurses help their patient, or even their doctors! And you can't help but wonder, does all nurses do this?

"Welcome home, big brother!" you exclaim once he arrives at the front door, you help him take off his jacket and realizes he looks really tense.

You helped him to the couch, he must've been stressed at work since he isn't responding to anything you say at all!

You make a little pout before he sighs and ruffles your hair before unzipping his pants, letting his cock fly out and slaps against his stomach.

You drooled at the sight of his cock. It must've been another one of your nurse duties time! You have to help your doctor distress!

You touch the tip of his cock, testing it and seeing as he let's out a hiss at the contact of your hand. You grinned as you spit on your hand, he told you that your saliva is another medicine for his cock!

As you touch the sensitive flesh, he let's out little moans and groans when he feels your warm hands.

"D—don't. Don't tease me." He warns and takes your hands off his cock before putting the tip of it on your mouth.

"Come on, open. Don't bite unless you want to be spanked like last time." The threat hangs over your head as the memories flood in, making you widen your mouth for it to fit.

His cock is gorgeous—the tip is a pale red and it's enormous. You want to suck his cock all day long, so tasty when it slips in your mouth slowly.

You've already rid of your gag reflex long ago just so his cock can fit warmly inside your mouth. He groans and he rests his rough hand on your head, controlling your movement slowly.

He gets breathless after a few moments and pulls your warm cavern away from his dick, he pats his lap for you to climb on which you do so—excitedly.

"Ride it." The moment he says it, you lift your skirt up and pulls your panties to your ankles before positioning yourself over his cock and inserting it in.

"Feels 'sho good, big brother~" you moan out and peppers a kiss all over his face. He just lets you ride him without taking control over you, he was too stressed today.

You chase after your climax all in your own but got a bit too tired of bouncing on his lap, that's when he takes control of your movements when he notices how tired you seem.

He makes you jump on his cock, which makes you roll your eyes to the back of your skull.

"W-wah! Wait..! I'm cumming, cumming~" you moan out and bite your lip when his placid dick gets hard once again inside your cunt.

You seemed so tired after only a round of cumming and you remember that your big brother has too much stamina.

Especially when he's pent up.

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minty364 · 2 months

Text

DPXDC Prompt #43 Part 1

Everything had been going well on their trip. Danny was going to tell his parents all about his past, and about being the half dead ghost king. Unfortunately, Danny’s life had a reputation for how terribly unlucky he was. He and his family were caught off guard, and even Danny couldn’t prevent himself from fainting when hit in the back of the head with what he assumed must have been something metal.

When he came too he could tell his arms were bound together behind his back and there were two others adjacent to him. He didn’t shift or open his eyes to avoid letting their abductors know he was awake. He could hear some soft tapping that almost sounded like chalk. There were hushed whispers but they were too muffled to hear. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed but he was starting to get a little bored. He knew his family was probably with him, they were right next to him and would have noticed him getting kidnapped.

Eventually he heard a rustling sound next to him, they must be waking up too, “Maddie? Danny?” Their soft voice spoke.

There wasn’t a reply but that meant Danny was correct, well at least about his dad. He wasn’t 100% sure if mom and Jazz were here but he needed to figure out a way to get out of this without letting their kidnappers know he had powers.

Another shift this time in the opposite direction. “Mom? Danny?”

“Jazzie-Pants!! Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they?” His words were a bit panicked and almost made Danny reveal his awareness.

“No. I’m fine, Dad? Where are we?” Jazz sounded more annoyed than worried.

A voice interrupted them before their dad could respond, “Quiet hunter scum,” the bags were removed from all of their heads and then ice water was thrown out of a bucket at them. Everyone else groaned as they were shocked awake by how cold it was.

Danny figured there was no use pretending to sleep now so he opened his eyes. They had been captured by cultists and were tied next to each other with a large circle drawn out in chalk. The circle, from some of the runes Danny could make out, looked like a summoning one. Upon further examination they looked more closely to the ones that would summon him, too bad it won’t work since he’s already here… They don’t know that though, and he could use this opportunity to mess with them.

One of the cultists, probably the leader, stepped forward and started speaking toward his followers and started a really long winded speech but a couple things caught Danny’s attention. One they were sacrificing him and his family because his parents hunted ghosts so the Ghost King would of course seek revenge. Two there were five of them there, that meant an extra person was tied up as a sacrifice as well. Who that was Danny didn’t know but he had to save them, he’d get them all out of here.

“That’s all quite fascinating but what does this have to do with me?” A familiar voice said. Danny knew exactly who the voice belonged too and it wasn’t his Mom, Dad, or sister. The fifth person happened to be his twin brother whom he hadn’t spoken to since before he faked his death.

Damian, from the sound of his voice, was behind Danny probably on the other side of his Dad. Danny hadn’t said anything yet so Damian was unaware Danny was there. The dark cavern like room didn’t allow a lot of room for light but there were quite a few candles and torches illuminating the space.

Before anyone could say anything else a loud crash was heard, Danny couldn’t see as the noise was behind him and the room descended into chaos.

Master Post:

#dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #danny and damian are twins #they got kidnapped by cultists #They get rescued in the next one #shenanigans #my asks are open #all my prompts are free to use #im glad tags that you use often pop up for you to use #I feel like I’m forgetting something though

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 5 months

Text

"Mr. Bubbles, Mr. Bubbles-"

A little boy's voice--the first little boy that Tim had discovered in the labyrinth city below Gotham--echoed through the cavernous halls. Tim crept over the rubble of a broken stalagmite that had fallen through the ceiling, destroying the white and gold decor and dripping water inside. The room up ahead was lit only from glowing green tubes of liquid that lined every wall of Amity, the ectoplasm that powered the entire city.

"Are you there? Are you there?"

He peeked out from behind a crumbled wall. On his own, the little boy was crouched over corpse, fresh enough that it's blood was still wet on the floor. The boy's giant needle, the go-to weapon of all the Little Sisters that Tim had seen so far, was jabbed into the corpse's stomach and, slowly, ectoplasm and blood filled the glass jar on the end.

"Bring me a lolli-"

There was no sign of a Big Daddy, but Tim knew there was one nearby. These children were never without their protectors after all.

"Bring me a toffee-"

And at this point, Tim had killed enough of them to know for certain that one was around.

His left arm, marked all over with the needle marks of constant Plasm and ecto-dejecto injections, tingled, like there were ants under his skin. Or more accurate, he mused grimly, electricity-

Don't Think About It.

"Teddy bear, teddy bear."

He kicked his bare feet excitedly as he finished harvesting ectoplasm. Screwing off the jar, the child lifted it up to his lips like a cup and drank the viscus liquid down in huge, chest-heaving gulps like his life depended on it. Unlike Little Sisters who wore gore-covered dresses, the Little Brother was dressed in a white medical gown, relatively clean considering his filthy surroundings. His arms and face were free from dirt or blood, and even his hair looked suspiciously washed and combed.

Tim tightened his grip on his gun.

The Little Brother sighed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Brushing off his skirt, he yanked the needle out of the corpse. Then, like he could sense him, the boy looked straight at Tim. He froze.

Blank eyes covered in a green flim stared at him... and the Little Brother smiled at him, his teeth stained brown from the muck. "Mr. Helper! There you are, I've been waiting soooo long! Big Sister thought you'd never catch up!"

#bioshock au #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #little brother danny #c: tim drake #c: danny fenton #danny is just a creepy little baby #tim's having a mental crisis about becoming what is basically a meta on a bender #tim: this little brother looks strangely well taken care of compared to the little sisters what does this mean!?#Big Sister Jazz: take care of little brother. little brother should no get dirty... little brother keeps getting dirty #Amity in it's prime would look super futuristic. modernist and white #after the civil war though cave ins and water erosion is slowly destroying everything #there's an entire garden filled with hallucinogenic mushrooms that tim is going to have to deal with and he's NOT going to like what he see

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flowerandblood · 7 months

Text

The Evening Star (1/2)

[ Hades • Aemond x Persephone • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, kidnaping, sexual tension, obsession, incest, toxic relation ]

[ description: When the god of the underworld comes out of his caves once a year to admire his beloved constellation, he accidentally meets his niece, whom he has never seen before. Moved by sudden lust and desire, he kidnaps her, despite her despair and his brother's anger. Angst, sexual tension, dark and obsessive Aemond. ] Part 2: The Moonlight Ray

The Evening Star & The Moonlight Ray Persephone Moodboard

*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*

My others works: Masterlist

_____

He never understood his brother, hurling his lightning bolts from the heavens at defenceless people in a rage − he did not understand his volatility, he did not understand his irrepressible desire, his unlimited emotionality.

He did not understand how he could desire and feel so many things at once, having his sister-wife haunt and take other goddesses, nymphs, or even human women, begetting bastards on earth and in the heavens.

He did not understand him, for he was emptiness, abyss, coldness, the opposite of his impulsiveness, his eternal volatility − he was like stone, like white marble, soul as well as body.

The only desire he had ever known in his life was the desire for power, and for this his brother deprived him of one eye before casting him into a dark abyss where not even the light of the stars could reach.

Although he was a god, his brother's blow could not be undone and he was forever disfigured, the dark hole in his face filled with a precious stone, sapphire, shining with a disturbing blue light.

Accustomed to the darkness of Hades, he could no longer bear the intense light of the sun and rarely appeared on Olympus itself; he would wander through his dark caverns in his long, black matted robe and gaze at the river Styx, at its pale light and the contorted terrified faces of the souls who swam in it.

When word reached him that his brother had mated with their other sister, the goddess of the field crops, and that she had bore him a daughter, he was neither surprised nor interested − he did not come to celebrate her birth on Olympus or congratulate his brother.

His brother had often suggested to him that he should take a wife, that he should not be alone in the darkness of the underworld.

He, however, felt no such need.

Even his sister, known as the Goddess of Love and Desire, was unable to seduce him.

She touched his naked body with her soft lips and hands, but he felt nothing but embarrassment.

He left Hades only once a year, when his favourite constellation emerged in the sky − He would then stroll through the old, dense forest looking up at the stars, breathing in the fresh air, listening to the rustle of the leaves.

When this time of year came, when he left his caves and looked up, he felt contentment at the sight of the twinkling dots in the sky, the pleasant night breeze enveloping his cold body.

He strolled slowly and aimlessly, looking upwards, all around him only the quiet rustling of his robes and the sound of dew-wet grass lingering beneath his feet.

He froze as he heard someone's footsteps break a twig not far from him, he knew he was not alone and he was furious.

He thought that whoever this mortal was, he would flow right down his river of the dead.

He tilted his head to the side and saw a pale figure illuminated only by shy starlight, her body pressed against the trunk of a tree as if she wanted to take refuge in it, her face expressing helpless anxiety.

Her eyes were big, warm and as dark as his robe, her hair long, partly loose, partly decorated with rich braids encircling her head, small blue flowers woven into her hair.

Her full, moist, fleshy lips were parted slightly in an accelerated breath, her breasts which he could see perfectly through the thin, transparent material of her robe were rising and falling restlessly, her skin glistening like moonlight.

He stared at her, unable to move or make a sound, unsure if he had ever seen a being so infinitely beautiful in his life, luminous as the stars above his head.

He swallowed loudly when he saw that she had taken a step back to retreat, to escape.

"Is it the beautiful Evening Star herself who has left the sky to enchant me with her company?" He asked lowly, impassively, his voice though assured and direct trembled, betraying his desperation.

She stopped in mid-motion and looked at him again, surprised and embarrassed at the same time by his words − it seemed to him that he saw perfectly well how her cheeks flushed, giving her skin a rose tint.

She pressed her lips together watching him carefully, lifting her chin slightly as if probing him closely from afar, assessing whether he was a threat to her, whether he would hurt her.

He was unable to take his eyes off her.

"I will tell you who I am only if you tell me who you are." She whispered in a trembling, gentle tone.

A smirk appeared on his face at the thought that maybe she was a nymph who had ventured too far from her friends, and that she was at his mercy now.

He hummed under his breath and moved ahead, putting his hands behind his back, looking under his feet, moving unhurriedly towards her.

"They call me many names." He said with mischievous amusement, throwing her a piercing, disturbing look from which she shuddered all over, taking a step back again.

"My river, though water is a life-giving gift, brings death." He whispered once he was a few steps away from her, wanting her to solve the riddle herself, to exert herself.

She swallowed loudly, her eyes widening suddenly, as if she had just realised something.

"− uncle −" She whispered, and he froze, stopping in mid-step; for the first time in the thousands of years he had walked the world he felt his own heart pounding hard.

He looked at her in disbelief, and it was only at close that he saw that she did indeed have something of his brother and sister in her, though it was her she resembled more − he felt himself grow even paler than usual, his hands clenched into fists behind his back.

She, however, seemed not frightened about who he was, her face took on an expression full of contentment and warmth. She moved closer to him and now it was he who took a step back feeling a strange heat in his lower abdomen, his manhood throbbed suddenly as he caught a glimpse of the outline of her soft breasts.

"My mother told me a lot about you. About the sun hurting your eye." She said softly, and he swallowed loudly seeing that she was staring at his scar, at the stone placed where his eye once was.

He thought he was like Hephaestus, hideous, disfigured, and that she would never desire him.

He felt his jaw clench tightly, his body tense, hard as granite when she tentatively placed her soft hand on his shoulder, he felt the warmth of her flesh through the thin material of his robe.

He didn't know what was happening to his body, he felt tickling and tension in his lower abdomen, a strenuous need for some kind of relief that he didn't understand.

"Stay with me to watch the sunrise. Don't sink into darkness yet." She whispered as if in worry − he couldn't tear his eyes from her face, from her warm gaze.

He was unable to comprehend how any living being could be so beautiful.

"No." He said coldly, and then grasped her in his arms, his hands clenching on her soft, hot flesh like steel tongs.

For a moment she couldn't make a sound, terrified and shocked − she didn't scream when he threw her over his shoulder and headed towards his underworld, cold, dark, damp.

It was only when she realised what he was doing that she began to struggle and cry, calling loudly for help from her mother and father, begging him not to do it, to let her go, that she would not tell anyone about it.

He, however, decided to follow his brother's advice and take a wife.

The marriage required the oaths from both of them, but this did not prevent him from acknowledging her as his wife even though she refused to speak the words.

Even though he had given her his most beautiful chamber, on whose ceiling precious minerals shimmered like stars, in which streams of water hummed, in which she could lie on a great, soft bed, she did not want to see him.

He was not his brother.

He had no intention of taking her against her will.

It was enough for him that he could look at her every day.

Only him.

He bestowed new gifts on her every day, but she still cried.

He gave her a beautiful long gown of dark, translucent material embroidered with stones in which the warm light of the sun was encased after she said she longed to see it, but she didn't even look at it.

The blue flowers in her hair withered as did the warmth in her eyes − she was slowly becoming as pale as he was and was constantly shivering from the cold.

She would not let him embrace or touch her; she covered herself with the thick furs he had given her and turned away from him.

Occasionally something would awaken in her − she would then run up to him when he visited her and beg him to let her leave to see her mother.

"I promise you that I will come back and that I will be your wife. Please, let me see the sunshine and the fresh grass one last time." She begged, touching tenderly his cold cheek with her fingers, almost as if she loved him, and he almost gave in to her every time.

"I can't, Persephone." He replied coolly, feeling some kind of pain seeing the despair on her face, hearing her helpless sobbs again, her small hands clenched on his robe, her cheek hugged to his chest.

"My name is Kora." She mumbled with difficulty, as if enraged. He hummed at her words, lifting slowly his large, cold hand, taking unruly strands of her hair from her face, all red from crying.

"Persephone, this name, is my gift to you. For my sweet wife." He whispered, and she trembled, struggling to breathe, shaking all over.

"− please −" She babbled as he embraced her uncertainly and stroked her hair, relishing its soft texture, letting her draw on this substitute of comfort.

He walked with her through the interiors of Hades, wanting to show her that besides death, there was also beauty in the underworld − underground streams and lakes with crystal clear water, his three-headed, beloved Cerberus, who in his presence turned from a monstrous beast into a gentle, docile animal.

Sometimes it seemed to him that a smile adorned her face for a moment, but then the sadness came over her again − she shuddered with cold and fear hearing the wailing of souls floating in the Styx, she glanced nervously in that direction, swallowing loudly.

"Are they suffering a lot? Can they be helped?" She whispered, and he hummed under his breath, walking beside her with his arms folded behind his back.

"They are paying for what they have done in their lifetime. Their merits and transgressions have been weighed by Temida, who has issued a judgment on them. There is nothing I can do." He admitted with a glance at her, and she lowered her gaze, looking down at her hands.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked her at last, and she lifted her large, frightened eyes to him, her lips parted but no sound came from her throat. He pressed his lips together, feeling a sting in his chest.

He asked her if she was afraid of him after he had kidnapped her and held her against her will.

What did he expect?

The wrath of his brother and sister was quickly getting to him − her mother distraught at her disappearance had fallen into a state of utter agony, people were being starved to death by the land's failure to yield crops, there were more souls flowing in the Styx than he had ever seen in his centuries-long life.

He felt a kind of satisfaction when his brother descended into the underworld for the first time since time immemorial; he hated to think about dying and passing, and could not grasp the meaning of such a short life, knowing only the meaning of infinity himself.

He came out to meet him sitting proudly on his black marble throne, thousands of skulls at his feet.

For the first time he looked down on his brother, a gigantic cave all around them, Styx surrounding them on all sides except a small bridge.

"Brother. I warn you for the last time. If you don't give me my daughter..."

"Then what? I should take a wife at last – those are your words, aren't they?" He asked with a sneer, sitting stretched out comfortably in his seat.

"I want to see her." He demanded, and his lips tightened at his words. "Or I'll take her away from you myself and you'll never see her again."

"I poured water from my river into the honey she drank. Like any soul who has already bound herself to the underworld, she will not leave Hades without my permission." He said calmly, and his brother's face flushed red, his angry low voice echoing around him so that the ground shook around them.

"I WANT TO SEE HER!"

He hummed under his breath and nodded to his servant to bring her in.

His wife came out of her chamber a moment later − when she saw her father she immediately beamed, ran to him and threw herself into his arms.

He looked at them coolly, feeling his heart pounding fast, his stomach twisting with rage.

"My sweet daughter. Did he hurt you?" He asked as if the welfare of any woman mattered to him, as if he hadn't raped an endless number of innocent girls, forgetting them quickly because they were dying in what seemed to him to be just the blink of an eye.

He swallowed loudly when his Persephone shook her head, tightening her lips, lowering her head.

"He's good to me." She whispered and he felt a squeeze in his heart, a pain he had never known before.

His brother looked at him accusingly, trying to contain his aggressive, abrupt nature.

"People are suffering hunger because of you. Her mother has gone mad with despair, the flowers are not blooming, the grains are not yielding. Let them be together at least a few months of the year and I will recognise your marriage in the eyes of Olympus." He suggested, and he furrowed his brow.

"No." He hissed coldly, his gaze icy, piercing, furious, his hand clenched into a fist. "She is my wife. A wife's place is with her husband."

His brother moved in fury, wanting to lash out at him, the ground shook around them again, but his daughter's hand stopped him.

"Let us speak alone, father." She said softly; his brother backed away, panting heavily, his jaw clenched tight.

He hummed under his breath when he saw his wife move towards him, climbing the black, cold stone steps to finally stand before him − his brother snorted and turned, walking away, furious.

He looked up at his Persephone massaging his chin, delighted to see the outline of her body shapes beneath her thin white robe.

He shuddered and swallowed loudly, shocked as she sat on his lap, his manhood throbbed suddenly feeling her body so close, her fresh scent like a cool morning breeze.

"− husband −" She whispered with a soft click of her pink tongue, her hips innocently rubbing against his hardness, his body shivered at the sound of that word.

She had never called him that before.

She touched his cheek with her soft fingertips so gently, tenderly, slow strokes of her hips teasing him so innocently, that he parted his lips, breathing with increasing difficulty, his palms tightening on his cold stone armrests.

He could feel his length pulsing and swelling with every motion she made, he didn't understand what was happening to him.

He didn't stop her when she reached up to tie of his matte black robe, he drew in a loud breath and closed his eyelids when her delicate hand tentatively touched what was underneath.

"I am yours. I will give myself to you of my own free will." She whispered in a sweet, warm, trembling voice, her gaze misty, her lips full, swollen, red from emotion.

A quiet, low groan broke from his throat as he felt her hand direct the fat head of his manhood between her thighs with a gentle movement, he could see through the translucent material as she slowly began to sink him into her body.

He tilted his head back with quiet moan, licking his lower lip, feeling her hot, fleshy insides squeeze him wonderfully from all sides − she was surprisingly moist and warm, her core throbbing with arousal.

He felt her put her hands on his shoulders, lowering herself onto him with a loud, sweet gasp, her plump lips parted wide.

His hands involuntarily gripped her hips as she began to move, rising and falling against his length so painfully slowly that he had to close his eyelids shut, panting louder and louder along with her.

"– gods –" He exhaled with difficulty as she accelerated, the loud, sticky slaps of flesh against flesh echoing through the dark cavern, his manhood throbbing and twitching inside her, all hard and swollen with pleasure.

Involuntarily, his cold fingers clenched on the hot skin of her hips − he rooted his manhood into her tight, moist insides with his desperate, pathetic thrusts, her sticky moisture dripping down her thighs.

"– for our marriage to be valid you must fill me with yourself, my husband –" She whispered, pressing her forehead against his, droplets of sweat glistening on her body like little diamonds, her sweet moans of pleasure, her slick walls sucking him inside made him loose his temper.

He gasped weakly at her words, he had never felt a woman's insides before, had never desired anyone before her.

He felt like his manhood was going to explode with desire and lust, his thrusts became faster and more brutal, her soft breasts bouncing in front of his face − he lifted his hand and squeezed it tentatively, a soft mewl of delight erupted from her throat.

"– Persephone –" He breathed out pleadingly, imploringly, and then she kissed him, her hot, swollen, moist lips clinging to his, cold, dead, the tips of their tongues licking each other.

"– please –" She mewled although he didn't know what she was actually asking him, and then he heard her cry loudly, as if surprised, her hot insides clenching against him greedily, her tongue deep in his throat.

He felt with each thrust of his hips that he was getting closer and closer to something he'd never experienced before in his life.

Fulfilment.

The wave of heat and pleasure, his seed that spilled inside her surprised him so much that his voice stuck in his throat, and then again and again a low, helpless groan broke from his mouth − both of them were panting as they looked at each other with their lips open wide, his hands clenched painfully tight on her hips.

"I'm yours." She whispered softly, sweetly − he was looking at her feeling only peace, only love. "I am only yours, so please, let me see her."

He felt the heat in his heart replaced by coldness, his brow furrowed in a sense of anger, of pain, of betrayal.

"No." He hissed, wanting to lift her up, but she shook her head, cupping his face in her warm, soft hands.

"I will never truly be your wife if you won't trust me. If I don't come back to you of my own free will." She said helplessly, pain, fear and suffering in her eyes again, his lips tightened into a thin line at her words.

"Nine months with my mother so I can enjoy the sun, and then three here, just with you, every night, every day, I swear." She whispered tenderly pressing her face against his cheek, her scent overpowering and stupefying him, her warm insides still pleasantly enveloping his already soft manhood.

He swallowed loudly at her words, his palms digging firmly into the soft skin of her thighs.

"You're lying. You will never come back to me." He hissed and groaned low when he felt her hips begin to move up and down again with a loud click of her wetness and his spend, his manhood pulsed involuntarily with pleasure, betraying him.

"I'll come back. I promise I'll come back."

As much as she wanted him to lead her away, he didn't want to watch her disappear beyond the borders of Hades never to return.

He didn't want to watch her run merrily towards the light, thanking the gods for his weakness and naivety, for how every woman in history had been able to exploit a man's desires.

He did not want her to see his expression, his suffering and all the other feelings he did not want to feel.

The day after she left, he went to her chamber and lay in her bedding, sinking his nose into her scent.

He found, with regret and pain, that with each passing month her scent grew fainter and fainter, her silhouette in his mind becoming more and more blurred, as if he had never really met her.

He touched himself thinking about her, experiencing both wonderful and painful fulfilment with the knowledge that he would never feel her again.

He preferred to explain to himself that it was just a dream.

That he had never met her.

He knew she would not return.

She would not return to her captor, to the man who had kept her in a dark underworld for months, deaf to her pleas and sobs, a man who was crippled, who was cold, frightening and empty.

Despite this, despite knowing it, when the day came he could think of nothing else − he watched as the sand shifted in the great hourglass constructed of bone and glass as he lay in his chamber, drinking wine, feeling like a demented madman, listening for her footsteps amidst the groans of the dead.

She did not come.

He stared at the empty hourglass, which turned and the sand began to shift again, counting down the time of the new day; he wondered how he could have been so naïve to wait.

For the first time in ages he felt an embarrassing, burning wetness under his eyelids − proof that he really loved her.

He shuddered when he heard the quiet rustling of robes − he glanced sideways and saw her standing in the doorway of his dark chamber, in her hair beautiful small yellow flowers, her face bright and warm.

She wore the gown he had given her, black, decorated with sun rays stones.

"My mother kept me. She couldn't let me go." She whispered, and he felt his throat tighten, his body freeze, unable to make a sound or make any movement.

He breathed hard, looking at her with wide eyes, his lower lip and hands trembling involuntarily as she approached him slowly, as her hands untied the bindings of his robe with a light, easy motion, revealing what was underneath, how much he wanted her, how much he waited for her.

"I have been counting down the days when I will see your face again." She whispered, running her fingers over his scarred cheek, sitting on top of him, gently taking his hard length in her palm, lowering herself onto the fat head of his cock as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He wanted to tell her that he didn't believe her, but instead a surprised, throaty groan of pleasure burst from his mouth − he tilted his head back, panting loudly, his hips involuntarily beginning to root his manhood into her fleshy, moist insides, her hands clenched on his shoulders.

"– fuck –" He gasped out looking at her with his lips parted, synchronising his thrusts with the rhythm of her body − he swallowed loudly as she slid the material of her robe off her shoulders, exposing her soft, plump breasts to him.

"– touch me, husband –" She cooed, and he lifted himself, immediately pressed his lips to her breast, sucking on it greedily, licking and teasing her nipple with his tongue, all hard with desire.

She sank her fingers into his long white hair and pressed his face against her chest, rising and falling on top of him with a loud click of her moisture, moaning so sweetly and loudly that he felt like his manhood was about to explode.

"– were you touching yourself? – did you touch yourself when you weren't with your husband? –" He hissed out in a trembling voice between flicks of his tongue, she kissed his hair in an attempt to soften his question and her answer.

"– forgive me, husband – forgive me, I've missed you so terribly –" She mumbled helplessly as he ran his fingers down her hips, twisting with her so that she fell on her back.

He gripped her thighs in his hands, looking down at her − her face all red with exertion, her hair scattered in disarray around her head, her body all bare before him, hot, beautiful, his.

"– I think I should remind you to who this body belongs to –" He growled, ending his sentence with a deep, brutal thrust, a loud, surprised moan escaping from her throat.

"– you are mine –"

Thrust.

"– mine –"

Thrust.

"– mine –"

Thrust.

"– repeat –"

"– I – I'm yours – I'm yours, forgive me, uncle –" She mumbled out with difficulty and drew in the air loudly as he spread her thighs shamelessly in front of him, looking down at the place where their bodies joined, her entrance clenching against him steadily, leaking with her wetness.

"– I forgive you, sweet wife –" He gasped, recognising this act of grace as an expression of his love and gratitude that she had not betrayed him, that she had returned, that he held her in his arms again.

"– I'll fill you with my seed and it'll be just as it should be –" He exhaled as he watched the perverse sight of their bodies slamming against each other with a loud slaps, his thrusts deep and sure, each time opening her wide on his thick, swollen cock.

He couldn't believe that she had come back to him, that he could smell her wonderful, floral scent again, that she was allowing him to possess her of her own free will.

Her fingers grasped his hand and sank it between her thighs − he felt her direct him to the small bud between her soft folds, she moaned when he touched her there.

"– here, husband – please –" She mewled and moaned loudly, throwing her head back as he began to rub her there, simultaneously caressing her inside and out, her core beginning to pulse greedily against him.

"– gods – stop clenching –" He exhaled with difficulty, rooting into her with quick, brutal thrusts of his hips, stretching her fleshy walls apart with the sticky click of her moisture.

He felt that if he went on like this he would simply come inside her, when he wanted to torment her, to prolong the moment of this immense pleasure and encounter after so many months.

"– I can't – I can't –" She sobbed loudly and he saw her fulfilment in all its glory, her hot, soft flesh went through convulsions, greedily sucking him inside, her lips parted wide in pleasure, her gaze misty and warm.

He cursed loudly, coming inside her so painfully hard that he clenched his eyes shut, panting loudly, rooting into her for a moment longer, the relief and delight that surged through his body was indescribable.

He looked at her beautiful face, her hands on either side of her head, her expression nothing but fulfilment and peace, her breathing uneven and ragged, her breasts rising and falling rapidly.

She looked up at him after a moment and smiled sleepily, raising her hand slowly − her soft fingertips ran over his scarred cheek and he closed his eyes, feeling pleasant, hot squeeze in his heart.

"What is my wife's name?" He asked in a whisper, kissing her warm, small hand, smelling of fresh grass and flowers. He heard her sigh sweetly at his question, her fingers sliding lower, running over his cold lips.

"Persephone."

_____

Aemond Taglist

@dc-marvel-girl96 @its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @verena-targaryen-writes @talesofoldandnew @happinessinthebeing @travelingmypassion

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ratedfleur · 5 days

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ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 mail incoming!

⋆˚˖° minji and noncon. °˖˚⋆

kim minji x fem reader genre ౨ৎ smut

“imagine g!p minji was a perv.. and she was ur sister's bestfriend! (ur choice to choose who) and one day when ur sister was out to buy groceries minji use the opportunity to force herself on u :((( she was meann and likes to see you cry.. you're a crybaby though.. how pathetic!“

✏️: OMG super late response smh, this got buried in lots of requests TᴖT also i accidentally deleted the ask?! good thing i had it saved in my wip list.. also this is so mean, i don’t think i’ve ever written something like this 🥹

i could so see this happening especially you were to be hanni's younger sister. because of how close minji was with hanni, hanni would let you tag along on their hang outs or even she'd let minji accompany you if she couldn't.

unknowingly, minji had the hots for you. minji always took a liking on you, even before she and hanni became friends– that is exactly how she got to be close to you and that was through befriending a clueless hanni.

"minji-yah! y/n! do you need anything from 7-eleven? i'll buy ramyeon!" hanni asked from the foyer whilst you and minji were in the living room, watching a movie that you've been wanting to watch.

"nope!" minji answered back meanwhile your ears perked up, "eonnie! can you get me lychee jellies? the peelable ones!" you hollered back until you got a response from your older sister.

"okay, i'll call if i get there!" hanni says as she shut the door behind her.

finally, minji thought.

5 minutes pass by and minji's arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you close to her, you let it be since you saw how comfortable she became.

then minji started to move closer towards you, hand gripping your shoulder tightly. you hiss when you feel her nails digging into your skin, you even whimper as you look at minji, silently telling her to stop.

"m-minji.. it hurts.." you say to her, trying to pry minji's arm away from your shoulder. suddenly minji unravels her arm from your shoulder as she stands up, pushing your shoulders back onto the couch when you sat up.

whimpering as minji stared you down, your eyes start to glisten with tears, "eonnie, you're scaring me.. w-what did i do?" you say as a tear cascades down your cheek. minji leans down and wipes the tear of yours, "what did you not do, honey? you think you could get away with looking so pretty every time i'm around? it makes it so hard not to touch you, honey.." minji says as she starts to take her sweats off, stepping out of them along with her underwear.

your eyes shake when you see minji's cock, attempting to look away was not a choice because minji's hand holds onto the back of your head, forcing you to sit up as she angled her cock against your lips, smearing her leaking pre-cum all over your closed lips.

you refused to look or open your lips, keeping them shut as minji continued to try to get your mouth to open. unable to get you to open your mouth, minji's hand quickly slaps your cheek, making you gasp as you opened your eyes and looked up at her in disbelief.

"don't look at me like that, lovey.. it just makes me want to ruin you even more." minji says as she angles her cockhead towards your mouth once more, liking how you kept your mouth open as she sunk into your warm cavern.

the smile that creeps up on minji's face is eerie when she starts to thrust into your mouth, paying to mind to you gagging and to your hands scratching her lower back through her shirt as she begged you to stop.

you gag repeatedly as minji thrusts into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your mouth, "you feel so good, lovey.. i could fuck this slutty mouth of yours forever.." minji moans as she fucks your mouth harder, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as she bobs your head up and down her cock as she thrusts simulaneously.

your throat continues to gurgle around minji's cock that huge enough to leave no space in your mouth. minji was long and girthy with trimmed pubes, she liked to be clean and trimmed.

minji's adrenaline only keeps going when you look up at her with tears in your eyes, cascading down your cheeks as you gagged repeatedly around her cock. she simply thrusts harder and bobs your head up faster, loving the sound of you gagging.

"god, you're not doing the right thing if you want me to stop. i'll only fuck you if you keep doing this." minji pouts when she acts like you're moving on your own on her cock, bobbing your head up and down. she even fakely whines and begs for you to stop sucking her only for minji to laugh like a maniac as she bucks her hips into your mouth.

stilling your head with her cock buried deep into your mouth, minji pats your head sweetly, "can you make me cum, lovey?" minji asks before she pulls your head away from her cock, she makes you nod by moving your head even if you desperately tried to shake your head as you coughed.

she forces your mouth open once more before pushing your head down her cock, making you gag once more as she thrusts repeatedly into your mouth, moaning when your mouth only tightens up around her cock. minji's pace is relentless as she chases her orgasm knowing that hanni could come home and see her bestfriend devirginize her sister's mouth.

"oh my god lovey! i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna fucking cum! gotta make sure to swallow everything up, yeah? we can't leave any traces of what you did to me.." minji moans out as she bucks her hips harshly into your mouth, making you gag and cough around minji's cock when she stills her hips with her cock down your throat as she starts to release her hot cum into your warm cavern.

pulling away, minji's hand holds your cheeks roughly as she stares you down, "swallow it." she says as she watches you swallow every bit of her awfully bitter cum.

you gag when you swallow it all up, minji even forcefully opens your mouth to see if you swallowed everything up. seeing that you swallowed her cum up, she smiles with a glint in her eyes as she leans down to pick her sweats off of the ground and begins to dress herself up.

watching as minji began to compose herself, she was making sure there were no traces of what she has done to you. you began to cry, fat globs of tears start to cascade down your face as you hiccup, your chest starts to heave as you desperately tried to catch your own breath despite sobbing.

minji coos as she pulls you close, making your head lean on her stomach as you cried, no words could be understood no matter how hard you tried to speak.

it was as if your angels came right in time when hanni arrived, a confused expression was on her face when she passed by the living room and saw you sobbing into minji's stomach. "the film was a bit too sad." minji says to hanni who simply blinked at her.

but it was a comedy film.. hanni thought as she walked away, still hearing your intense sobs as minji tried to calm you down.

#mikha’s asks.#newjeans #newjeans kim minji #newjeans minji #kpop hard hours #kpop smut #kpop hard thoughts #gg smut #kpop gg #girl group x reader #kpop girl group smut #girl group smut #kpop girl group #minji smut #minji x reader #minji imagines #minji hard hours #minji hard thoughts

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harrypotterandthefandomaccount · 1 year

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worthy of trust

pairing: sebastian sallow x fem!reader

warnings: sebastian being a jerk & calling you ignorant, angst, feeling like you lost a friend but he makes it up to you with a lil kiss

note: i've been obsessed with hogwarts legacy and the gameplay itself is just phenomenal. 39 hours into the game lol and still so much to do, so enjoy this sebastian oneshot. based on his questline, in the shadow of the mine i think?

important note: i do NOT support hate towards the transgender or LGBTQ+ community. JKR has made her stance very clear and i could not disagree and be disgusted with her more. this fic and future ones merely pertain to the character(s) in hogwarts legacy and to my knowledge, JKR had no part in the game. if you are still mad i play the game/write fics for hogwarts legacy, you can scroll past this. thank you!

you had no qualms about trusting lodgok since sirona ryan had known him for years, along with miriam. while the both of you had been albeit hesitant at first towards one another, he had proven his loyalty to stopping ranrok and was actively trying to be one step ahead of him - which is exactly what you, sebastian, and the others wanted.

however, when the opportunity arose to tell sebastian about lodgok, it all came flooding back to you - anne.

you and sebastian had just finished clearing out a cavern of arachnids, which quite honestly, was pretty exciting. you had even reminded him that well, spiders aren't insects.

"don't you start," he had responded, a small smirk on his face.

after finding the last piece to the tryptich and hoping to solve the mystery concerning isidora morganach, returning to the undercroft was the last step. you both were eager to see if the portrait piece would fit, and once it had been placed, you were able to breathe.

"please tell me you recognize the location in this bit of canvas," you said, turning around to face your slytherin partner in crime.

he sighed, "the good news is, i do, in fact."

your shoulders dropped, "and the bad news?"

sebastian turned to look at you, "we're in for more trouble."

you groaned, leaning your head back as Sebastian's eyes seemed to darken; gluing your attention back to your slytherin friend, he continued, "i know that coast. Ranrok has taken over a huge mine and the surrounding area. Marunweem has suffered for it. It's as bad as Feldcroft's become."

with a sigh, your eyebrows knitted together and you looked at the triptych once more. sebastian glanced towards you, "should we head there now?

you shook your head, "no, we should wait."

sebastian immediately questioned you, "why?

you gave a grimanced look, "all this time, we've been a step behind ranrok. I may know someone who could help us get head."

sebastian raised an eyebrow, "who is that?"

before you could even think about formulating your answer a different way, the words slipped out, "a friendly goblin named lodgok. he wants no part in ranrok's fight."

sebastian immediately became disgusted, angry, even. "a friendly goblin?" he started, "you know goblins cursed my sister to shut her up! said she should 'be seen and not heard.'"

you took a step towards sebastian as he stepped back. taking a breath, you nodded, " i do, but not all goblins-"

he glared towards you, "not all goblins what? have you forgotten feldcroft? have you forgotten the mine we just went through?"

you sympathized with him, no doubt. you knew how close the twins were, how much Sebastian loved anne and cared for her - but this fight against ranrok was against all wizardkind, not just anne. and you knew she would understand.

shaking your head, you tried to reason with Sebastian, "no, sebastian, i haven't. you're not listening to me."

sebastian scoffed, "why would i listen to someone so ignorant?"

ouch.

you knew sebastian could be mean, cruel, but throughout these months of knowing him, he has only been so kind, sweet and soft with you. there was never any malice towards you, no anger or disgust. towards the goblins and ranrok in conversations with you, but it was never directed. it was understandable that what happened to anne was hurting Sebastian as well, but this anger was now at you, and he was changing.

you already had reservations working with lodgok before sirona ryan said you could trust him, but there was something he wasn't telling you. but it wasn't a secret that jeopardized your working relationship with him, no. if it had been, you would have turned your back and not worked with him another day.

it wasn't ignorant at all, you knew that. a bit sketchy at first, sure, but not ignorant. lodgok had proven himself trustworthy and has helped you in being one step ahead.

you stepped back in surprise, "that was cruel. perhaps your uncle was right about you - you don't know when to stop."

sebastian glowered over you, stepping forward as his words were laced with venom, "oh, i do know when to stop. unbelievable."

taking a deep breath, you turned and walked out of the undercroft, ready to scream. you understood where Sebastian was coming from but the way he talked to you was so...angering. maybe you should have lied about who it was, about what lodgok was.

but calling you ignorant? okay, yes, this was your first year learning about magic and catching up to the rest of your peers, but you earned respect and knew - for the most part - what you were doing. you would never intentionally put Sebastian, anne, ominis, whoever in danger if you were not confident.

with a sniffle, you made your way through the dark arts tower to your common room, ready to just cry about how upset and angry Sebastian was. but before you could, ominis's voice stopped you, "coming from the undercroft, are we?"

you turned around, eyes glassy with unshed tears - albeit glad that ominis couldn't see them. you gave a small smile, "oh, yes. we were just discussing a painting we found."

ominis hummed, not entirely satisfied with your answer, "your voice is shaky. what happened?"

you let out a breath, "i - we can't talk about it here, ominis. too open."

he sighed, and with his free hand, he grabbed your arm, pulling you towards an owl statue inside a small window, before it turned around and you found yourself...well, inside a wall at hogwarts.

before you had time to question ominis of where you were, he asked once more, "what happened?"

you explained everything, just leaving out the parts where Sebastian was intent on not stopping to find a cure for anne, but moreso focused on the triptych. when you revealed who lodgok was, ominis cringed.

"oh, that's not the worst part," you said, wiping a stray tear, "he asked why he should listen to someone so ignorant."

ominis winced once more, "yikes."

you grumbled, "tell me about it. i want to cry because, well, i understand why he is upset but lodgok is a lead to stopping ranrok, to being one step ahead."

your blind friend nodded, "agreed, and if sirona trusts him, that's saying something."

you both stood in silence, the occasional sniffle from your nose giving ominis hints of how much this bothered you.

"give him time to cool off," he began. "anne is a sore spot for him, but he needs to understand that she won't be the only one cursed without your goblin friend's help. you made your way into his heart, those that he cares about. you'll be fine."

you nodded, trying to formulate your words, "thank you, ominis. i apologize for putting you in the middle of this, but it was nice to have someone listen."

ominis smiled softly, "of course, y/n. meet you at dinner?"

with a quiet, "yeah," you watched ominis make his way out of the secret room, and once again, you were left with screaming thoughts. sobs immediately racked your body, regret aching from your tears and sore throat. there was nothing left by the time you were done, face dried with tears as you composed yourself.

taking a breath, you left the room and immediately looked down, seeing a letter by the 'door.' on the top left was ominis's handwriting, but the letter itself was unopened: told you he's gone soft for you.

with a pained sigh, you picked up the letter and opened it, reading the words:

we need to talk. undercroft after dinner?

"merlin's beard."

dinner was not something you could stomach at the moment, and to be honest with yourself, you were sure it could come right back up as you made your way to the undercroft. with a wave of your wand, you opened up the clock-looking door and headed inside, anxiety eating you up like a full-course meal.

sebastian had his back to you, staring intently at the triptych until he heard the door open. his eyes met yours immediately, and he softened.

"hi," he said, biting his lip nervously as you made your way over to him.

"sebastian, i-" you began, but he shook his head. with a small smile, he grabbed your hands and held them against his chest, "it's ok."

your eyes welled up with tears, "but it's not, seb. i should've been honest with you and i wasn't. I'm sorry, you have every right to hate me."

sebastian was silent as the tears fell down your cheeks until he wiped them away with his thumb. you sniffled, looking up at him. he grasped onto your hands once more, "you were hesitant to tell me because you know how much i care for anne, for my sister. you listen to me and want what is best - that has always been you. I'm not mad at you, dove. I'm mad at merlin for making that our last option."

you gave a sad excuse for a chuckle as he smiled at you. he continued, "dove, listen to me. I'm sorry for what i said. i know you aren't ignorant; i reacted harshly about your goblin friend, but you understand why?"

you immediately nodded, squeezing his hands, "of course, seb. i know how important it is for you to find a cure for anne, and i would never jeopardize that if there was a chance lodgok could betray us. but he's good, honest."

sebastian grinned, and you continued, "i'm not mad at you either, y'know. you're good to me, seb, and i was just scared i lost you."

he held your face between his hands, thumbs softly rubbing over your cheeks as he adored you, "you could never lose me, dove. you are one of the few good things left in my life and i'd be an idiot to let you go."

you swallowed a sob as tears clouded your vision, but Sebastian hushed you, "it's okay, sweetheart. we're okay - i trust you. promise."

you nodded and gave a small smile, "i trust you too, seb. promise."

leaning forward, sebastian nudged his nose with yours, and you giggled as he mumbled, "there's my pretty dove." and with that, Sebastian sealed your lips in a kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck as he grounded himself on your hips.

maybe you should send lodgok a thank you card.

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facelesswoman666 · 9 days

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The Beast Blade - Feyd Rautha x Fem! Reader

Hello lovelies, I am back and i have brought to you the product of my many nights spent reading Feyd Rautha smut. I thought i would have a go at it myself. This is part one of a 4 part series. So please enjoy xoxo

Synopsis - There are enemies in every territory. At the request of the emperor, the House Harkonnen and Atreides have been asked to discuss the conditions of a peace treaty, that could subside years of futile conflict. Poised at the centre of this conflict are the young heirs of each house. Na-Baron Rautha and the young Duke Paul Atreides. Under the machinations of their guardians, they must navigate their own claims to leadership and the claims of their newfound allies. Although Rautha is developing a taste for the young Duke’s sister, and he will stop at nothing to claim what he covets. Regardless of the outcome of his desires.

18+ MINORS DNI. Sexual contact warnings

This part is short, sorry xo

Part 1 - A dove and a dog

He was Harkonnen, the perversities of his nature knew no human bounds and yet his composure was impeccable. The lone blade, they called him, hushed in opulent halls and whispered around feasting tables too grand for proper representation. Better translated to ‘Beast Blade’ in the native tongue. His character was primal, unfiltered, raw, and those who were favoured enough to appear in his presence frequently, knew of his interests.

A select few suffered them recurrently.

Na-Baron Feyd Rautha was a petulant man. Yet desirable in the traditions of the House Harkonnen. His body an expanse of heavily built muscle tissue and sheer skin, with a hue of spectre white. The rotated assortment of precious things that followed, nipping at his heels and fawning over his body were ever lingering in his presence. Although not today.

Feyd found himself, today, in an unfamiliar setting, an uncomfortable one at that. Traipsing soft footed around the halls of the Arrakeen castle, now under the jurisdiction of House Atreides. Thieving bastards he thought, and imagined his blade studying the soft pale skin of the eldest atreides child. Weak as a crib bound babe was Paul. His rumination’s shifted to the youngest atreides daughter, a girl of 18 and whether it would be pleasant to ruin her in the short time he would spend here.

The ruining of the princess was far from possibility, considering the minute truth that was she despised his bloodline, along with him. The complexities of this sand wrought cavernous abode was not lost on him, seeing as his former years as a youth had been spent causing deviltry about these halls. His hand slid over the walls; it reminded him of the past.

A servant girl began to cross his path, hurriedly skipping on tapping feet to an unknown destination. It was decided.

The Na-Baron expressed his internal sentiments ‘A dove has entered the dog’s pit’ Her chin rotated in his direction and she replied ‘And does the dove not have wings?’ Her overt defiance to a superior amused him ‘The dove has wings and the dog has teeth’ He gave in to her rebuttal. Her smile stretched small against her pretty face ‘The dove is slight’ Feyd studied the girl with intense curiosity.

‘Dogs eat birds’ The words dripped from his poison lips; he did not indulge in their recreation of the folk tale. His boredom grew within him.

She stepped closer, bringing forth the beauty of a youthful face into a light which did not shadow the most adored features. What a strange specimen, he noted, allowing her momentary pauses from his scrutiny. His eyed lowered to the tunic she wore, draped lazily over her skin and the perfect tits that hung on her chest underneath it. She noticed Rautha’s eyes darting from peak to peak across her chest. His tongue subsequently sliding over his bottom lip. He spoke ‘Do all caladan women have such perky tits? Or is it primarily you?’ Rautha smirked

The girl was not accustomed to such a word and she imagined it held its own brutality for this man. Her mother had always referred to them as breasts. The Na-Baron suppressed the urge to reach out, to skim them with his fingers. The pretty little servants on his home-world would have welcomed his hands to their chest but little did he care for those white mounds of flesh. These things were delicate, flush from exertion and begging to be touched. She, taken aback by his statement, breathed a gasp and stumbled back a pace. Was he truly so bold?

The girl stood in puzzlement of the living statue positioned before her. Slithers of yellow light filtering through the windows, washing over him as though a wave of ocean cascading. It illuminated his form for brief bursts of remark “I asked you a question” he repeated simply “And by what means do you expect me to provide an answer” She clipped her tone, speaking candidly. Feyd stilled himself, the initial spouts of rage fighting their way to heat the skin of his arms. He presented his smile, blackened teeth, gums writhing over them like tar and pressed her further “Are all caladan women blessed with perky tits? Or and i repeat, is it primarily you?”

She would not play pawn in this righteous amusement of power and lust. Her mouth kept in a hard line, to the Na-Baron’s annoyance. He reached his fingers to her in an untamed prediction of violence. The thumb and forefinger of this looming figure came to rest on her neck, pressuring the area. His other hand grasping the flesh of her ass in it claws, he craned his neck, and stretched downwards to whisper against the shell of her ear ‘I will take these tits in my mouth until they ache with pleasure and the distortions of lust cloud your feeble mind. There is no one you can run to that will affirm this ever happened. Do you understand?”

The girl nodded slowly, heaving breaths racking her lungs. Hips bucking in a childish display of discomposure, into where his pelvic bone struck against hers.

Duncan idaho rounded the corner, spotting the pair immediately and his eyed betrayed cause for concern. She sensed his presence to her side although Feyd Rautha did not conclude his oppression of her even under the eyes of the Duke Leto’s most trusted adviser. “My lady” The firm query of Idaho concealed layers only known to the girl and her family. Feyd released her at the realisation of the name Idaho gave to her. Lady, he pondered, interesting. The Na-Baron watched keenly as the little creature before him wandered off, tailed by Idaho.

The Na-Baron revelled in the accusing glance Duncan speared him with upon departure.

#dune fanfiction #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd smut #feyd x you #feyd imagine #feyd fanfiction #dune smut

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azsazz · 8 months

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Tonight I'm So Lonely (Part 2)

Cassian x Rhysand's Sister!Reader

Summary: Part 2 to the One-Liner Anon Request: This is so cliche but what about “of course it’s you.” for your writing exercise 😙

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,306

(Part 1)

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You turn towards your brother, eyes sparkling with tears, shining much like the stars framing you from behind. “Why wouldn’t he tell anyone?”

Your name is a soft exhale from your brother's lips, and you fall into his open arms instantly. Clutching him back as tightly as he’s hugging you, you realize that you’ve missed him more than you ever noticed before. Fighting with Rhys and being ignored by Cassian has taken a toll on you, and your eyes slide shut as you try to stop the tears from spilling over. “I don’t know why. Does he know?”

You nod against his shoulder, throat too tight with emotion to speak. It feels like a cavern in your chest, your heart cracking and caving in upon itself, mirror to how you’d felt when your mother had been murdered before your very eyes.

“I know he knows, Rhys. I can feel him sometimes, even when he thinks he’s blocking me out.”

Sometimes, when Cassian forgets that you’re his, you can feel every hit he’s taking during a particularly rough training session, the soreness in his bones, the splitting of the skin across his knuckles when he fights. You can feel his utter joy when he’s having a night with Rhys and Azriel, the laughter they share and the dizziness that comes with bottles of fae wine.

But mostly, you can feel how lonely he is. That flicker of pain that could be your own when he catches sight of you and turns the other way. When he sits down the table from you as far as he can so that he doesn’t even have to look at you, the tremble of his soul as it fights from his chest, reaching out to you when he’s trying so desperately to pull away.

“I’m so sorry,” Rhys answers, because he doesn’t know what else to say. Then, “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No,” you answer quickly, pulling away from him. He doesn’t let you go, though, hands planted on your shoulders in a comforting manner. The sight of his glittering crown is obnoxious, and you’d normally snort at him, teasing him for wearing it, but tonight, it gives you an idea. “But I will need your help cornering him.”

***

“I wanted to talk to you before I told anyone.”

“But you haven’t.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” Cassian curses, running his fingers through his wind-blown hair. His digits snag on the tangles and he winces, tugging them out instead to work at the belt of his sheath, needing something to fidget with to expel some of this nervous energy.

His heart slams in his chest just being in your presence. He never thought he’d find his mate, never thought it would be his High Lord’s little sister. Someone he’s grown up with and hadn’t looked at as more than a nuisance until the both of you had matured and he’d really seen you for who you are; beautiful and a lot more worthy than anything he can give you.

Finding you lying in crimson spilt snow was his worst nightmare come true. Each breath was agony and his fingers trembled so hard that the sword he had gripped in firm fingers had fallen to the ground. If Tamlin and his family had still been at the scene Cassian wouldn’t have been able to fight them off, he would’ve gladly accepted his fate too, knowing in that moment that if he didn’t have you around, he didn’t want to be either.

But it hadn’t been until you kissed him that fateful night, when the Night Court had seized the lands they’d lost during the war, that Cassian realized just how much you meant. Long days and nights on the battlefield spent wielding weapons that cut lines through enemy armies, his mind never strayed from you. How you were faring, if you were injured or lying somewhere out on the bloodied field, alone and exhaling your last breath, so close to losing you again.

It terrifies him, the idea of losing something so important not only to him, but to your brother, to the court.

“It is as simple as that, Cassian,” you argue, “You could’ve just talked to me at any point, instead of running away like a child.”

“You don’t understand,” he chokes, throat tight.

“Then help me understand!” Your chest heaves, cheeks red with frustration. Why won’t he talk to you? Why won’t he tell you what’s going on in that thick head of his? Why is running away from you so much easier than it is to stay?

“I’d rather have my wings torn from my back than to come so close to losing you again!”

Your mouth parts, words caught in your throat. Your chest aches with a thousand wounds as you stare up at him. Cassian’s chest heaves, hazel eyes sparkling with unshed tears. You haven’t seen him looking anything close to this since you’d woken up after the incident and he was by your bedside, begging the Mother to let you stay.

“I—”

But Cassian continues, now that the words have started spilling. “You’re…you’re the High Lord’s sister,” he argues, but it’s weak. He’s trying to convince himself, you realize. He won’t look at you, wringing his fingers together nervously. “And I’m just…me.”

“Oh, Cassian,” you coo, reaching out with a hand to caress his face, to tilt his head to meet your gaze, but he pulls away. “You’re the Lord of Bloodshed,” he scoffs at the title, “One of the High Lord’s Inner Circle, but most of all, you’re mine.”

Something breaks in him at your claim. His body slams into yours so fast you can’t prepare. Large, rough hands cup your cheeks and eager lips meet yours as Cassian backs you into the wall.

It takes your mind a moment to catch up, but when he grunts against your lips you snap into motion. Wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him pulled close, you move your mouth against his. It’s hot and desperate. Your teeth brush against his but the feelings quickly replaced with his tongue swooping against yours as it delves into your mouth to explore.

You meet him, keening with pleasure at the touch. His body shudders and his knees nearly give out, relaxing his body weight into you. It’s comfortable, not at all drowning, it’s everything you’ve been wanting for so long, finally within your reach.

Your bond thrums happily in your chest and you can swear you hear his purring. His cock is heavy in his pants and you shiver at the feeling of it pressed into your body. You’ve fantasized about that cock.

Cassian feels like coming home. Like waking up from the longest nap in the world. You haven’t forgiven him, not in the slightest, but his silken hair feels like heaven as you rip the tie from the back of his head. His muscles feel like opening the most precious Starfall gift, rippling beneath your nails as you rake them down his body.

He groans, hands just as desperate to touch. They slide down your sides in a possessive manner, over the round of your ass and beneath your thighs as he grips tightly and lifts you into his arms with the ease of a warrior.

You curse against his mouth and he swallows it greedily, cock swelling in his tight leathers.

“Say it again,” he breathes against your lips.

“What?” you ask, dazed. You angle your head away but he doesn’t let you go far, trailing kisses beneath your ear to keep you close.

“Say that I’m yours again,” he pleads, and you gasp when he bucks his hips against yours as he walks. “Mine, Cassian,” you moan, digging your fingers into his hair once more. “You are mine.”

#cassian x reader #cassian #cassian acotar #acotar #acowar #acmaf #azsazz

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moris-auri · 3 months

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You are the silence in between (what I thought and what I said)

mdni by @arcielee ♥️♥️

Taglist: @black-dread @helaelaemond @orcaunionleader @aemondtarqaryens @artyoms @barbieaemond @bottlesandbarricades

A/N: to think this is the result of a mental image I had out of the blue and several very awful diagrams later that will never see the light of day 😂 I hope you like it ♥️

Summary: In the wake of a more than disastrous dinner between the two sides, anger is not the only thing running hot.

Warnings: MDNI 18+ NSFW, Female Reader, edging, handjob, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), teasing, 69

Word count 2.1k

A wave of nervousness washes over her as the seconds pass, churning low and unpleasantly in her belly the longer she stares at Aemond. Her thighs clench together at the sight of the hungry, almost wild look that burns in his eye, sending desire rolling through her, threatening to swallow her whole as his sapphire winks at her from the cavern where his other had been. The look on his face grows more heated every time her gaze flicks to the book placed almost unassumingly on the little table, the title of it all but seared into her mind now, before shifting back to his.

She never imagined marriage, let alone her own, she thought with a suddenly dry mouth, feeling her heartbeat thump almost painfully behind her ribs, could be like this. She knew what awaited her as a daughter of a great House, what her future held, as did any highborn girl, yet she had still clung to the hope, more a child's folly than anything, that her own marriage, to whoever her father chose for her, would be different.

That it would be better. Happier, even, than the ones she had been witness to as a girl, surrounded by the unhappy unions of her father and mother, as well the ones of the King and Queen Alicent and later the Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena.

Her betrothal to Aemond mere days after her seven and tenth nameday had come as no surprise to anyone, expected even, given how close her mother was to the Queen. Except her, it seemed, not that she dared to complain. To be tied in marriage to a Prince was an honor. A dream, too, one that countless girls held, all but lured in by the promise of gold and jewels and riches and the tales they listened to at the knees of Septas and nursemaids.

He had been distant at first, her Aemond, the sudden change in his demeanor from the sullen boy she remembered of her youth giving way to the rigid and stiff spined man he had become, more often than not finding some way, whether on dragonback or concealing himself in some hidden spot within the library that she had missed, to evade her. It had stung more than she had cared to admit every time she saw the thoroughly disinterested look in his eye whenever he laid eyes upon her the few and far in between times his mother the Queen had been successful in wrangling him into dining with her or his siblings. He almost always spent those times alternating between picking at his food or leveling flat unimpressed looks in his elder brother's direction or focusing on his sister, his eye sliding over her when he did.

It had only been after carefully spoken words from the Queen and Princess Helaena and her mother did she resolve to gain his attention, all but cornering him in the library, squaring her shoulders as she opened her mouth, though not before plucking the book from his grasp and tossing it aside, did he finally, truly look at her, his eye free from the disdain that she had become so painfully familiar with. After that, the days leading up to their marriage seemed to all but pass in the blink of an eye, one after the other, a haze of time spent at his side until the day came and she stood face to face with him. It had been in that moment did she believe it - the phrase that she had heard half a hundred times echoing inside her mind, that Targaryens were closer to gods than to men - as she stared at him, lips parted, the light of the high windows in the royal Sept bouncing off the sharp, pretty angles of his face.

She tightened her hold on him, one arm wound around his neck, the rich, almost wine red hue of her dress standing out vividly against the dark of his leather as she felt it, the burning dragonfire heat of his need to dominate, to consume, in every touch of his lips to her skin as he trailed his mouth down the curve of her throat. She let out a low moan as he pushed at her skirts, his hands flexing against her waist, feeling the vibration of the agitated noise he let out barely a moment later as his fingers tangled in the fabric instead, the sound still carrying traces of his anger from the dinner. Not that she cared, really, then or now, when the peace between the two sides of his family the King craved shattered like glass the moment the doors closed in his wake.

Aemond's fingers traced upwards, deftly loosening the lacing of her dress before he leaned back, watching enraptured as it floated down her body to puddle around her feet. His eye moved upwards to her face again, his pupil dark and almost back, his breathing little more than pants now as he pressed his body harder against hers, the heat of him almost suffocating. It felt like he was everywhere all at once, but she wouldn't have it any other way. It was as easy as breathing, the way he touched her, the way he craved her just as much as she did him. His hands were warm on her skin as he slipped the hem of her shift up her body and over her head, his breathing growing more ragged as his chest began to rise and fall more rapidly.

He made another noise, this one bordering a whine as a reddened flush of color rose beneath the surface of his skin where her fingertips dug into the meat of his shoulders, the leather of his tunic soft beneath her fingers.

"Ābrazȳrys-'' he panted, the color painted across his face and down his neck. The hand he had tangled in her hair fell then to her hip as she pressed her lips to his, kissing him again and again and again, hoarding the sounds he didn't make for anyone else like they were treasure. She pulled back to grin at him, her eyes darting over every inch of his face, taking in his pleasure slackened expression. He was so very pretty like this, bare and free of clothing concealing his body from her gaze.

She let out a yelp as his arm wound around her waist, sudden enough to startle her. He shifted his grasp on her as he crossed the room, laying her down almost gently atop the bedding, keeping his eye locked on her face. She shivered, goosebumps erupting across her arms from the night air floating into the room from the open window, all but incapable of turning her gaze away from where he towered over her, the moonlight behind him alighting in his silver hair. She reached for him then, exhaling a breath at the feel of him coming flush against her, the way the length of his body never failed to fit against her own so perfectly like the puzzle box she had gifted Helaena on her eight and tenth name-day.

"Gevie,"

He groans the word against the flesh of the curve of her shoulder, trailing a line of kisses over the skin that grow sloppier by the second as the pads of his fingers dig into her sides, and she knows there would be bruises there come morning.

"This is what you wanted, is it not?" She murmurs as she grins at him again, pulling far enough away from him to settle on her haunches, an almost triumphant look on her face as she drags the fingers of one hand over the curve of his jaw and down his chest, feeling every ridge and contour under his skin, her eyes moving over the planes of his lean frame before stopping on his stomach, watching as the toned muscle under his skin shifts just beneath the surface. He glowers at her in response, his eyes narrowing as a brief flare of fury overpowers the lust sitting dark and heavy in his sole eye, his hands fisting and unfisting at his sides.

'Yes," he utters finally in response to her raised eyebrow, keeping his gaze locked on hers, the tone of his voice carrying a not so little trace of his growing desperation. She lets out a raspy, breathless laugh, watching him intently as she retreats, turning her body away from his gaze, lips twitching at his half annoyed huff. She kept her eyes on him as he moved, the bed creaking beneath his weight, pushing his loosened hair behind him as he lowered himself down to be an opposite mirror image of her. She doesn't miss the way his face twists when his knee connects with the wood of the baseboard before his expression smoothes over.

His hand settled on her thigh as he kept his gaze on her, his eye half lidded now, the pad of his thumb moving back and forth across the skin of her waist in a manner she almost thinks is purposefully done. She finds the strength then to move, the bed creaking under her as she shifts closer to him until there is almost no distance separating them, her fingers wrapping around his cock, flushed and weeping mere inches from her face, watching as he hardens in her hold, the tip leaking almost pearlescent spend onto the tips of her fingers.

“I've never done this before,” she manages to choke out as she ducks her head in retaliation, keeping her eyes locked on his as a feeling builds inside her, one she knows borders on vengeful, something stemming from her pride as much as it did from his.

He hums in response, the lazy unhurried noise turning into a choked, half startled moan that escaped him when she hollowed her cheeks, breathing through her nose as her tongue swirled around the underside of his cock, the sound almost wanton, thunderously loud in the near nonexistent space between them. His hips jolt, half rising up in response to the warmth of her mouth. Her breath fans over his skin, the lewd sounds of his mouth on her cunt echoing throughout their rooms, clashing with the sound of the unrelenting rain from the storm that had come hours ago and had yet to abate.

She doesn't stop though, enraptured and enthralled by the way he flushes, the darkened hue of color in his cheeks that she can see even from where she lays. Her fingers ghost almost teasingly over his thighs, edging him closer to his peak over and over and over, all but addicted by the sight of him, hair askew and his sole eye half unfocused as he meets her gaze, his slickened fingers curling around her thigh, an almost feral grin forming on his lips. Her head thumps back against the pillows behind her a half second later as she bites her lip in yet another weak attempt to stifle the moan that falls all too freely from her lips as his nose brushes her bud, her eyes rolling back as pleasure coils tighter in her stomach. She feels almost boneless from it, the pleasure licking a trail up her spine, and she knows how she must look, how he must look, debauched or mussed or any number of things, but she pushes the thought from her mind easily.

Her musings cut off suddenly when the heat of his mouth vanished, his hand moving to flatten against her stomach as he slid one finger inside her, then two, his attention so focused he didn't notice as she half raised her head, her hips bucking this time. Her knuckles blanched white, her fingers twisting around the sheets, her forehead pressing against the near scorching skin of his hip as she writhed, a half uttered curse slipping from her mouth.

She thumped the heel of her hand against his back, all but letting the overstimulation and the desperation wash over her, closing her eyes as she sagged limply, one eye cracking open halfway at the feel of his fingers brushing her hair back. Her eyes move over his face, some of the haze fading at sight of the grin dancing on his mouth. "Aemond-"

She breathed his name weakly, one hand wrapping around his arm, brow furrowing. She shivered, half turning on her side and away from the near frigid breeze that blew into the room. She sighed, fingers twining with Aemond's when he settled behind her. He wrapped his arm around her waist as he pressed his lips to the curve of her shoulder, his fingers stroking up and down her side softly.

Her head turned to the side, nose brushing his, feeling the heat of him hot against the curve of her spine, her eyes dragging down the length of his arm, watching his hand dip between her thighs, his still half slick fingers circling at her bud more gently than he had earlier. "You're insatiable," she huffs breathlessly, her tone fond and more than a little half amused.

#my fics #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond x reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemondtarqaryenssleepover

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horeformilfs · 2 months

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Rescued From the Nightmares

Miracina x Fem! Reader

TW: Blood, Mentions of ED Behaviors, Mentions of Poison and Torture

Liniștește-te, îngeraș. Ești în siguranță = Calm down, little angel. You're safe

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Amidst the dense forest, Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, Cassandra, Bela, and Daniela, prowled gracefully, their senses sharp and instincts honed for the hunt. The crisp air carried whispers of prey, but something else lingered—a foreign scent, unfamiliar and intriguing.

Bela's keen nose twitched as she caught wind of it, her brows furrowing in curiosity. "Mother," she murmured, her voice a soft melody in the twilight, "do you smell that?"

Alcina, towering and regal, nodded, her crimson lips curling into a predatory smile. "Yes, my dear. I've noticed it too," she replied, her golden eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Let us follow it and see what secrets this forest holds."

With a nod from their mother, the Dimitrescu daughters ventured deeper into the woods, their steps silent and purposeful. Alcina's directive echoed in their minds—explore, hunt, but remain vigilant.

Bela suggested they split up to cover more ground, a notion that Alcina entertained. "Very well," she conceded, her voice carrying authority softened by maternal concern. "Bela, Cassandra, you shall pair up. Daniela, you are with me."

And so they dispersed, weaving through the shadows with practiced ease. Bela and Cassandra navigated the labyrinth of trees until they stumbled upon a clearing, where a young woman lay unconscious, her form draped in a cloak of darkness and blood.

Cassandra's brow furrowed in concern as she knelt beside the fallen figure. "What do we do, Bela?" she asked, her voice a whisper in the stillness of the night.

Bela hesitated, her gaze flickering between her sister and the stranger at their feet. "We bring her to Mother," she decided, her tone resolute. "She will know what to do."

They carried the unconscious woman back to the agreed meeting point, where Alcina and Daniela awaited their return. Alcina's gaze narrowed as she took in the sight before her, her maternal instincts tinged with caution.

"Who is she?" Alcina inquired, her voice a velvet whisper laced with authority.

"We found her while exploring, Mother," Bela explained, her voice steady despite the weight of uncertainty.

Alcina regarded the stranger with a measured gaze before nodding in agreement. "We shall bring her back to the castle," she decided, her voice commanding yet gentle. With practiced grace, Bela transferred the injured woman into Alcina's arms, their journey back to the castle beginning in silence.

The grand halls of Castle Dimitrescu welcomed the returning huntresses with an air of quiet anticipation. Alcina's wife, Miranda, awaited their arrival, her presence a calming anchor amidst the storm of their nightly endeavors. As the Dimitrescu daughters approached, Miranda greeted them with a warm smile, her gaze flickering with curiosity.

"How was the hunt, my darlings?" Miranda inquired, her voice a soothing melody in the cavernous hall.

Cassandra's lips curved into a satisfied smirk as she recounted their exploits, her words painting a vivid picture of the night's escapades. But Miranda's smile faltered when her eyes fell upon the unconscious woman cradled in Alcina's arms, her brow furrowing in concern.

"What happened?" Miranda asked, her tone laced with worry as she turned to Alcina for answers.

Bela stepped forward, her voice steady as she explained their unexpected encounter in the abandoned base. Miranda listened intently, her expression softening with understanding as she absorbed the tale.

Alcina, ever composed, interjected with a gentle reminder of the woman's injuries. "Miranda, she is in need of your expertise," she stated, her voice a velvet whisper tinged with concern.

Miranda nodded, her resolve firm as she accepted the responsibility thrust upon her. With a graceful motion, Alcina transferred the unconscious woman into Miranda's waiting arms, their gazes locking in silent reassurance before Miranda disappeared down the dimly lit corridors, her burden cradled close to her heart.

Left alone with her daughters, Alcina's focus shifted to the task at hand. "Clean yourselves up," she instructed, her voice firm yet gentle. "Dinner will be served in a few hours."

The Dimitrescu daughters nodded in understanding, their movements fluid as they made their way to their chambers to prepare for the evening ahead. Meanwhile, Alcina dispatched a maid to fetch Miranda's equipment, ensuring that her wife had all she needed to tend to their unexpected guest.

Alone in their shared room, Alcina found Miranda tending to the stranger's wounds with practiced expertise, her hands gentle yet sure as she worked. With a soft smile, Alcina offered her assistance, their bond a silent testament to the strength of their union.

Miranda's skilled hands moved with precision as she tended to the unconscious woman, her focus unwavering despite the weight of uncertainty that hung in the air. Alcina stood by her side, a silent sentinel ready to offer assistance at a moment's notice.

As they worked, their conversation drifted to the mysterious circumstances surrounding the woman's appearance in the abandoned base. They speculated quietly, weaving tales of intrigue and danger, each possibility more fantastical than the last.

With practiced ease, Miranda finished attending to the woman's injuries, her touch gentle as she wrapped them in sterile dressings. She cleaned her equipment methodically, her movements a ballet of efficiency and grace.

A faint stir from the woman interrupted their quiet conversation, and Miranda's hand instinctively reached out to steady her. Alcina's voice, a soothing balm in the darkness, reassured the woman of her safety, her words a promise of protection amidst the unknown.

But the woman, disoriented and confused, attempted to rise from her makeshift bed. Miranda's gentle touch halted her movement, her voice soft yet firm as she urged the woman to rest.

"You're safe now," Alcina assured her, her gaze unwavering as she met the woman's eyes. "You're in good hands."

The young woman's words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. "I need to leave," she pleaded, her eyes darting nervously towards the door. "They'll hurt me if they find me here."

But her legs buckled beneath her, and she stumbled, leaning heavily against the sturdy wooden doorframe for support. Alcina approached her cautiously, her voice a soothing melody amidst the woman's turmoil.

"You're safe here," Alcina reassured her, her tone gentle yet unwavering. "No one will harm you."

Miranda's keen gaze softened as she observed the young woman's distress, her heart aching with empathy for the pain etched in her features. "You need antibiotics," Miranda explained calmly, her voice a steady anchor in the storm.

At the mention of needles, the woman's eyes widened with fear, her body tensing in anticipation. "No, please, not again," she pleaded, her voice tinged with anguish.

Alcina's brow furrowed in concern as she listened to the woman's words, a sense of foreboding settling over her. "What do you mean, 'again'?" she inquired gently, her voice laced with quiet concern.

"They..." the woman trailed off, her voice choked with emotion. "They always give me shots," she confessed, her words heavy with the weight of trauma.

Miranda guided the woman to the bed, her touch gentle as she offered comfort and reassurance. She sat beside her, her presence a steady anchor in the tumult of emotions swirling around them.

As Alcina administered the injections, Miranda offered words of encouragement, her voice a soothing balm to the woman's frayed nerves. With the first needle's prick, the woman held her breath, her knuckles turning white as she clutched Miranda's hand in a vice-like grip.

"Remember to breathe, sweetheart," Miranda murmured, her voice a gentle reminder of their shared humanity.

The second injection followed, and the woman squeezed Miranda's hand tightly, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Miranda praised her bravery, her words a beacon of light in the darkness of her fear.

"You did very well, my dear," Alcina added, her voice warm with pride as she applied bandaids to the tiny puncture wounds.

The young woman's eyelids grew heavy, the effects of the medication beginning to take hold. With a soft sigh, she swayed dizzily, her strength ebbing away as she slipped from the edge of the bed. Alcina's swift reflexes caught her before she could hit the ground, her voice a steady anchor in the swirling sea of confusion.

"Easy now," Alcina murmured, her arms enfolding the woman in a protective embrace. With gentle care, she lifted her and settled her back onto the bed, beside Miranda.

The woman, her name still a mystery, sought solace in Miranda's presence, her heart yearning for the warmth of connection amidst the chill of uncertainty. Miranda welcomed her into her embrace, her touch tender as she brushed a stray lock of hair from the woman's face.

Alcina watched over them, her gaze soft with compassion as she took a seat beside the young woman. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on the woman's shoulder, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.

"You're safe here, sweetheart," Miranda whispered, her voice a gentle caress in the darkness. "Rest now, and let your worries fade away."

Alcina's voice joined Miranda's, their words weaving a tapestry of comfort and solace around the woman. "We'll protect you," she promised, her tone firm yet gentle. "You're not alone."

The young woman's lips parted in a feeble attempt to speak, her voice barely a whisper amidst the quiet of the room. Miranda's gentle touch silenced her, a soft shushing sound soothing her restless mind.

"Rest now, my dear," Miranda murmured, her voice a gentle melody in the darkness. "There will be time to talk later, once you're feeling better."

The woman, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion, nodded weakly, her protests silenced by the comforting embrace of sleep. She sank deeper into Miranda's arms, her body yielding to the pull of slumber as the warmth of safety enveloped her.

Curiosity flickered in her eyes as she gazed up at the two older women, a silent question lingering on her lips. Alcina's voice, warm and reassuring, broke the stillness of the room as she introduced herself and Miranda.

"I am Alcina Dimitrescu, and this is my wife, Miranda," Alcina explained, her tone gentle yet proud. "And you, my dear, what is your name?"

Miranda's gaze softened as she awaited the woman's response, her heart brimming with compassion for the stranger in their midst. "We would like to know who you are sweet girl," she added, her voice a gentle invitation to trust.Y/n's voice, soft and hesitant, broke the silence of the room. "My name is Y/n," she murmured, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she met Miranda and Alcina's gazes.

The apology tumbled from Y/n's lips, her voice laced with self-doubt. Alcina's brow furrowed in confusion at the unexpected apology, prompting Y/n to explain her concern about intruding on their relationship.

Alcina's gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing between her and Miranda. "You have nothing to apologize for, my dear," Alcina assured her, her voice warm with reassurance. "You are not an inconvenience."

Miranda echoed Alcina's sentiment, her touch gentle as she urged Y/n to rest. "Sleep now," Miranda whispered, her words a soothing lullaby in the stillness of the room. "We'll talk more later."

With a tender kiss to Y/n's forehead, Alcina bid Miranda and Y/n farewell, her footsteps fading into the distance as she left the room. Y/n shifted slightly, pulling away from Miranda's embrace, her eyes clouded with uncertainty.

"Are you alright?" Miranda asked, her voice soft with concern as she observed the turmoil in Y/n's expression.

Y/n's response was hesitant, her words tinged with guilt. "I shouldn't be getting so close to a married woman," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

But Miranda's touch was gentle yet firm as she drew Y/n back into her embrace. "If you need comfort right now, that's what matters," Miranda reassured her, her words a beacon of understanding in the darkness of Y/n's doubts. "You're not doing anything to jeopardize our marriage."

Y/n relaxed into Miranda's arms, her fears melting away in the warmth of their shared embrace. Miranda pulled the duvet over them both, cocooning them in a blanket of safety and comfort as Y/n nestled closer to her.

With a final kiss to Y/n's forehead, Miranda whispered words of comfort as Y/n drifted off to sleep, the weight of the world easing from her shoulders in the embrace of those who dared to care. And in the heart of Castle Dimitrescu, amidst shadows and secrets, a stranger found solace in the arms of those who welcomed her with open hearts.

Amidst the quiet intimacy of their room, Alcina returned from her brief check on the girls, her footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit chamber. She approached Miranda with a questioning gaze, concern etched into the lines of her elegant features.

"How is she?" Alcina inquired, her voice a gentle murmur as she regarded Miranda with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

Miranda's gaze softened as she turned to face her wife, a small smile gracing her lips. "She's sleeping now," Miranda replied, her voice soft with reassurance. "She was worried about us being married."

Alcina's brow furrowed in confusion at the revelation, prompting Miranda to explain Y/n's concerns. "She doesn't understand why she feels that way," Miranda added, her voice tinged with empathy.

A tender silence enveloped them as they pondered the complexities of Y/n's feelings. "I don't mind that she's come into our lives," Miranda confessed, her words a testament to the depth of her compassion.

Alcina's gaze softened with understanding, her hand reaching out to intertwine with Miranda's. "I agree," she murmured, her voice a whispered affirmation of their shared sentiment.

They lingered in quiet companionship for a while longer, their thoughts drifting amidst the gentle ebb and flow of conversation. Two hours passed in the blink of an eye, and soon, the aroma of dinner wafted into the room, heralding the arrival of their meal.

Miranda stirred Y/n gently from her slumber, her touch tender as she guided the sleepy woman to sit up. Y/n instinctively gravitated towards Miranda, seeking solace in the comforting embrace of the older woman.

Alcina's voice broke the silence, her tone warm with affection as she informed Y/n of their dinner. With her help, Y/n sat up and began to eat, the simple act of nourishment a testament to the newfound bond forged between them.

But as Y/n pushed the food around on her plate, Alcina gently urged her to eat, her voice filled with concern. "You should try to eat something, my dear. It will help settle your stomach," she suggested, her eyes flickering with worry.

Y/n hesitated, her appetite diminished by memories too painful to share. "I'm not hungry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Miranda exchanged a concerned glance with Alcina, her brow furrowing in worry. "Is there a specific reason why you don't want to eat?" she inquired gently, her voice filled with empathy.

Y/n's gaze flickered with hesitation, her mind torn between the desire to confide in them and the fear of burdening them with her past. But finally, she found the courage to speak, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession.

"When I was given meals at the base... they were usually poisoned," she admitted, her words heavy with the weight of truth. "They wanted to see which poisons I was immune to."

Shock and anger rippled across Alcina and Miranda's faces at Y/n's revelation, their hearts heavy with the weight of her suffering. "We would never do such a thing," Alcina vowed, her voice laced with righteous indignation. "We want you to be safe here."

Miranda's hand reached out to gently touch Y/n's, her touch a silent reassurance of their commitment to her well-being. "We want to help you," she murmured, her voice soft yet determined. "Please, try to eat something small. It will help with the antibiotics."

With a shared understanding passing between them, Y/n nodded slowly, her trust in Alcina and Miranda growing with each passing moment.

As the weeks passed, Y/n found herself gradually integrating into the life of Castle Dimitrescu. She formed bonds with Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, the Dimitrescu daughters taking a liking to her gentle nature and welcoming her into their fold. But it was with Alcina and Miranda that Y/n grew closest, finding solace and security in their presence.

Despite the warmth of their companionship, Y/n continued to sleep on the floor each night, a silent testament to the lingering trauma that haunted her dreams. The softness of the bed and the comfort of the room were foreign to her, a stark contrast to the harsh realities she had endured before being rescued by Alcina and her daughters.

To Y/n, the comforts of the bed were reserved for those who had earned them, not for someone like her. So she sought refuge on the familiar embrace of the floor, finding solace in the hum of the heating and the warmth of a simple rug beneath her.

It was only when Miranda and Alcina gently encouraged her to embrace the comfort of the bed that Y/n began to realize the true extent of her fear of sleep. The gentle weight of the comforter, the warmth of the mattress, and the softness of the pillows were foreign sensations, overwhelming in their unfamiliarity.

But with their reassurance, Y/n tentatively allowed herself to sink into the embrace of the bed, the promise of safety and comfort beckoning her into the realm of sleep. Yet, as the night wore on, the darkness of her dreams crept in, suffocating her with its tendrils of fear and despair.

The first night in the shared bed was plagued by bone-deep screams, the echoes of her nightmares reverberating through the quiet of the room. Alcina and Miranda at her side in a n instant, their gentle words a soothing balm to her troubled soul as they guided her back to the shores of wakefulness.

But even as they slipped back into unconsciousness, the nightmares returned with a vengeance, tearing through the fragile veil of sleep with relentless ferocity. Hour after hour, Y/n fought against the darkness, her throat raw from screams and her body drenched in sweat.

Yet, through it all, Alcina and Miranda remained steadfast at her side, their unwavering presence a beacon of light in the darkness of her nightmares. And as the night faded into dawn, Y/n clung to their comfort, the promise of a new day offering a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows of her past.

The echoes of Y/n's screams filled the room, jolting both Alcina and Miranda from their sleep. Right away, they were at her side, their comforting presence a shield against the encroaching darkness of her nightmares.

Miranda gently cradled Y/n in her arms, feeling the tremors that coursed through her body. "Draga mea, shh, you're safe," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody in the night.

Alcina's hand rested on Y/n's shoulder, her touch firm yet gentle. "Îngeraș, we're here for you," she reassured, her voice a comforting murmur.

Y/n, caught in the throes of her nightmares, clung to Miranda, her tears soaking into the fabric of her nightshirt. Between sobs, she tried to articulate the horrors that plagued her dreams, but her words were disjointed and unintelligible.

Miranda pressed a tender kiss to Y/n's forehead, her voice a calming presence amidst the storm. "Shh, my dear, it's okay. We're here with you," she murmured, her fingers gently stroking Y/n's hair.

Alcina leaned in, her lips brushing against Y/n's temple. "Take your time, îngeraș. We're not going anywhere," she said, her voice a steady reassurance.

The trio remained intertwined in the bed, a tableau of comfort and solace in the face of Y/n's turmoil. Alcina and Miranda worked in tandem to calm her racing heart and ease the tension that gripped her.

As Y/n continued to cry into Miranda's neck, Alcina whispered soothing words in Romanian, the melodic cadence a balm to Y/n's restless soul. "Liniștește-te, îngeraș. Ești în siguranță," she murmured, her voice a gentle lullaby.

Miranda continued her soft reassurances, offering a comforting refuge for Y/n to lean into. "It's alright, my dear. We're here to help you through this," she whispered, her words a promise of unwavering support.

After some time, as Y/n's sobs began to subside, Alcina and Miranda exchanged a knowing glance. "Let's talk about it in the morning," Alcina suggested, her tone filled with understanding.

Miranda nodded in agreement, gently wiping away Y/n's tears. "Sleep, Draga mea. We'll face this together when the sun rises," she murmured, her words a gentle promise of a new day, free from the shadows of the night.

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