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nyxiswrites1200 · 5 months

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Could you maybe do a guilty pleasure Sebastian (or Elliot) post? I’m not sure I have any specific ideas in mind. I really like slight possessiveness (not outright yandere) so maybe something like whoever you chose getting jealous of another bachelor/ette getting attention from the farmer and being a bit possessive of them? Lots of “you’re mine and I hope you know it” and giving hickies to mark territory type stuff. I also would like you to just have fun with it, you know? I’d like you to enjoy the writing process too, I know how much it sucks to not have ideas to write. Indulge yourself :)

"𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆, 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔"

AAAAA I didn't expect someone to respond so fast?? But I literally love this <33 Indulge I will, love. I hope you enjoy it <3

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Sebastian x GN!Reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, OOC(??), Jealousy, Possessive bf, Established Relationship, Oral sex, PDA, Marking/Hickeys, Praise, Aftercare

Mentions: Reader enjoying coffee/hot chocolate, Sam (Stardew), drinking/alcohol, Use of nicknames (Precious, Sebby)

AO3 Link

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Sebastian was always an amazing lover. Ever since you two started dating in Pelican Town, he was rough around the edges at first, but that seemed to be just your thing.

The saloon was bustling with activity tonight. You and Sam were playing pool in the corner while Sebastian refilled his drink. Sam had missed the ball by a long shot, tripping onto the pool table. You couldn't help but laugh as you went over and helped him compose himself.

Sam chuckled in response to his idiocy and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. The interaction was so simple and innocent, yet it had Sebastian overtaken with a burning sense of jealousy from across the bar. Maybe it wouldn't bother him so much if you weren't so open and nice with Sam, even if he is his best friend.

When Sebastian returned, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist as he kissed you deeply. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue as he searched your mouth. You gasped softly into his mouth, and his grip on your waist tightened. When he finally pulled away for a breath, you spoke with a pant. “What was that for-” you asked curiously, but Sebastian just shrugs.

The night went on, and Sebastian seemed more aloof than usual, which had you concerned. Along with the passing glares and the clingy antics. Eventually, everyone was starting to head home for the night. Despite Sebastian's feelings, he still took your hand as you two began to walk back home.

“Sebby, what's wrong with you?” You ask, genuinely concerned. “Mm…you know you belong to me, right?” He rasps as he stops walking and drags you close to him. Chest to chest as he meets your gaze.

Oh so that's what this was, he was jealous.

“Ah- of course, I'm all yours” you respond reassuringly, but it was also completely honest.

Sebastian cracked a bit of a smile at that, and it seemed to do him in until you two made it back home. He wasn't much for public inquiries and while your words did mean something. He needed a different type of relief from this situation.

As soon as the door shut behind you both, Sebastian dropped onto the couch and pulled you into his lap.

“Sebby-” you tried to inquire, but were cut off by a small gasp as he began kissing your neck, his hands firmly holding your hips.

“Why you gotta be so fucking charming, huh?” He growled as he pulled you in closer. He began roughly sucking on your neck as he groaned in content.

“What are you talking about?” You struggle to get out as you tangle your hands in his messy hair. But you knew how jealous he got. How possessive he was over you—he wanted the most of your attention.

“Sam. Always being so fucking nice to everyone and letting him touch you…” he sighed against your neck, his lips moving to another spot. “Guess I'm gonna have to mark this pretty neck as mine; mark you as mine.” He rasped.

Sebastian sucked on your neck, leaving kisses and hickeys in the wake of his lips. You didn't mind at all. If anything, his possessive attitude had you grinding your hips into his crotch. Seeing the obvious tent start to form in his pants.

“Yes, please baby~ I'm all yours, you know that” you reassure as a moan leaves your lips. “Good” he responds softly.

“On your knees, my precious” he asks rather gently. You slide off his lap and onto the floor, sitting on your knees in front of him. You lay your head on his thigh as you reach and free his aching cock from its restraints.

“So good for me, all fucking mine” he says, placing a hand on the back of your head as he urges you to fill your mouth with him. You have no problems with it.

You take all of him down your throat with a gag, his long, pretty length with a distinct vein down the underside. It had you gagging already.

You began sucking on his cock, drool slipping down his shaft and onto his balls as you moaned onto him.

Sebastian let out moans and grunts; eventually, he pushed your head down and held you there. “So good for me, choking on my cock. You belong to me, you're my precious little thing and I won't let anyone else have you.” he held the back of your head as he began fucking into your mouth, using you to get himself off.

You felt tears threaten to spill from the feeling of gagging on him, but a soothing rub to the back of your head reassured you from his end.

“Don't cry, precious. Just showing this pretty mouth who it belongs to.”

That sentence alone had your tight and aroused hole clenching around nothing in anticipation. A part of you wishes he'd just bent you over on the pool table in the saloon and fucked you senseless. Oh god, your thoughts were awful.

It doesn't take long for Sebastian to become a moaning mess, his cock twitching as he gets close to release.

He pulls out of your mouth, and you lick up the underside of his cock as you look up at him. “Fuck…finish me off, let me cum on your face. Show you who you belong to” he groans.

You wrap your hand around his cock as you continue to edge him closer to his release. Your tongue slips over that prominent vein again, causing your boyfriend to moan.

“I'm gonna cum, precious-” he groans before a deep moan leaves him as he cums onto your face. You swallow what you can manage.

Sebastian panted as he looked down at you. Neck covering his purple-ish marks, your face splattered with his cum, and eyes teary from him fucking your throat.

“Good” he praised “I love you, precious” he smiled as he cupped your cheek “I love you too” you smiled.

Sebastian took extra care to bathe with you and make you coffee/hot chocolate in the morning. Kissing you softly as he praised you. You definitely don't mind being his.

#fanfic writer #archive of our own #reader insert #gender neutral insert #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley x reader #stardew fic #sebastian stardew valley #sebastian x reader #sdv sebastian #sebastian x farmer #gender neutral reader #stardew valley fic #possessive #jealousy #praise #spicy writer #ask response #possessive Sebastian

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hypnogogyc · 5 months

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They somehow neck and neck tied so they got maid dresses!

#tma #my art #oliver banks #the magnus archives #tma art #tma fanart #the magnus archives art #terminal velocity #mike crew #spicy?#the magnus archives fanart

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the-wyzer · 7 months

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Jude Perry, avatar of the Desolation

#inktober day 12: Spicy #tma #the magnus archives #tma fanart #the magnus archives art #tma art #wyzer art #inktober #Jude Perry #Jude Perry fanart #inktober 2023

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miooooooorin · 6 months

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Here to bless your pulls

Twitter | Instagram

#blue archive #bluearchive #arona #cosplay #cosplay sexy #cosplay girls #anime cosplay #cosplayer #my cosplay #spicy pics #me #my pics

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drewbs · 6 days

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is the green pen your favorite. also i love your jonmartin they deserve ugly sweaters

the green pen is my favorite and you are so right they do deserve ugly sweaters here's them in three different ugly sweater sets that were definitely not martin telling jon it would be a cute idea and he's really just being silly

#YIPPEE #i was gonna draw martin with an inappropriate one but then decided it might be a little too spicy #the teaholding #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma #the magnus archives #doodles #drew answers :]#GREEN PEN :D #<- more on that later

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thecrimsonvalley-creates · 3 days

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~ Heat of the fingertips piercing the soul ~ Okay, here we go, things get spicy between the boys! I can not help it: I love writing these two messy men trying to work out their feelings with every encounter!

#rusty lake #dale vandermeerxdavid eilander #dale vandermeer #david eilander #fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 #things get REALLY spicy #they are a mes and I love writing them struggling to navigate all these feelings they can't hold!

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lilac-hecox · 27 days

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Title: Return The Favor

Pairing: Ian/Anthony - Ianthony

Summary:

“Hi Anthony, how is your wrist?”

“Better,” Anthony says, lifting his slinged wrist.

She smiles and nods and then slips back into the kitchen to continue making dinner. Anthony follows Ian to his bedroom where he drops his bag on the floor next to the foot of Ian’s bed.

Then the two of them are alone in Ian’s room and they have been one hundred times before and so many times since that night six months ago, but maybe it’s the sling, the echoes of when Ian had his cast that makes the memory rise to the forefront of Anthony’s mind, or maybe it’s how he wanted to tell his dad – not that he’s going to tell Ian that – but either way, he’s thinking about that night, about what Ian felt like, looked like, sounded like.

Rating: Spicy

Notes: So, my best friend @xxmoonch1ldxx asked for a sequel to Helping Hand and what pookie wants, pookie gets!

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zialltops · 7 months

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East Side Of Sorrow

Word count: 55,306

Chapters: 12/?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Brief Underage, Graphic Descriptions Of Violence

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Older Man/Younger Woman, Joel is 50, Reader is 17-18, No sex until 18 trope, Murder Mystery, Murder Kink, Slightly Dark Joel, Cunnilings, Thigh Fucking, Voyeurism, Asphyxiation, Joel “The King Of Dirty Talk” Miller, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Description: It started at one of two points when you were sixteen, but for the life of you, you cant recall which came first. All you know, is a defining moment led you to the stark realization that you didn’t like the boys you sat beside in math class, weren’t interested in the seniors on the football field under Friday night lights—you didn’t want to dance with a boy at your high school prom, or have your first kiss under the bleachers.

You wanted a man.

It started at one of two points when you were sixteen, but for the life of you, you cant recall which came first. All you know, is a defining moment led you to the stark realization that you didn’t like the boys you sat beside in math class, weren’t interested in the seniors on the football field under Friday night lights—you didn’t want to dance with a boy at your high school prom, or have your first kiss under the bleachers.

You liked men.

Rugged, blue collar with a lifetime of rough working hands and tanned skin. More times than you could count, you found yourself pinning after men that must have been three times your age, probably with children your age, greying at the edges and crows feet from years spent in the sun.

It wasn’t always like that for you, you remember liking age appropriate boys who had just about as much life experience as you—but it was like one day you woke up and decided, you know what? Fuck a young colt, I want a stud.

But pinpointing the exact moment your life shifted in the worst possible direction—was still a bit hazy for you.

The first possibility seemed like the more reasonable of the two. It was early June when school let out for the summer after your sophomore year. Boys was just about the only thing on your one track mind-aside from figuring out how to squirm your way out of the awkwardness of puberty, ache, and anxiety keeping you from all the things you longed to do.

You wanted to be touched but you had to be wanted for that to happen. You wanted to be worshipped, but you needed stained glass windows and rows of red velvet pews to make someone want to kneel at your alter, when all you had was falling shingles, chipped paint and broken glass.

So on it went, you—trying your damnedest to be what boys wanted, falling short each time. So, of course—when your best friend Lilah invited you to to a trip to the lake with a group of boys from school, you went. When Lilah said she was feeling sick and couldn’t go, you went. When you didn’t have a ride, so a boy from the group offered to give you one, you went.

Even when the inexperienced and anxious parts of you told you to run, you still went.

There was a moment in between the awkward ride to the lake, trying desperately to keep your breast from falling right out of your top as the old truck takes the the bumpy road through the woods outside your town, where you first felt like you’d made a mistake. Your bikini is from two summers ago, before your cleavage really came in, but you felt hot when you’d looked at yourself in the mirror this morning. You thought you could handle being half naked in a lake surrounded by boys a whole grade above you—but—

Standing at the waters edge while they cat call for you to jump in, you feel as though the only thing that has jumped is your stomach into your throat. You want to wrap your arms around yourself and hide at the open way they all stare at you-you hardly even know them. The boy who picked you up is Lilahs neighbor, one is in your english class and the others you have seen around but not enough to say you know any of them.

They don’t know you, they don’t have any obligation to upholding your virtue, nor do they care about the way their small tasteless comments make you feel vulnerable and surrounded by them with no place to run or hide. Theres a small moment in there, where you feel wanted for a second, years of yearning and longing trying to find the one good thing to cling to in this moment.

It doesn’t last long—the boy’s comments get cruder, the sun gets closer to the horizon and you get more panicked. When one of the boys grabs your ass on your way out of the water, you nearly slip on your sandals and run. In retrospect, that should have been your first clue.

Reason #1: Boys didn’t want to protect you—they wanted to take advantage, get what they wanted from you even if you protested. Boys didn’t care if you looked scared or were shaking out of your skin—boys wanted to hurt you.

“I think I want to go home,” you say from the shoreline, shifting back and forth on your bare feet with a towel wrapped around your shoulders, hugged tightly to hide your exposed body. You shouldn’t have come here, what the hell were you thinking?

“Go home? When the party is just getting started?” The boy who drove you is reaching into a ice chest, sneering at you as he pulls out a bottle of brown liquid. It’s halfway gone, telling you that they have probably already been taking tugs off it all afternoon.

You suddenly feel like prey, in a open field surrounded with predators and nowhere to run. The others are coming out of the water to join you at the shore, but the way they move together as a group makes you feel sick to your stomach, they all have the same motive in mind.

You scan the shoreline, looking for a way out, maybe if you run, they wont try to follow, but that doesn’t seem very smart either. You don’t even have your sandals on and your nearly naked, no thanks to yourself. You make out a lone figure a long ways down the shoreline, so far in-fact you cant even make out if its a man or a woman. Definitely too far to help you, even if you had the right mind to yell for help.

“Look at her, boys.” One of them says—the largest of them all, he’s on the football team. “Shes shaking.” He walks right up to you wrapped in your damp towel and presses his hand to your cheek. You flinch away, but he grabs the back of your head with a searing palm. “Where d’you think your going?”

The boys chuckles and thats when you know—you should have never got in the old beat up pick-up truck, you should have listened to your intuition. “Let go of me,” you tell him, trying with little success to squirm away from him. “I don’t think so, princess. You’ve been walking around teasing us for hours—think its about time we get what we came for.”

You really try now, to get away from him but the hand on the back of your head drops to your neck and holds you there like a disobedient dog and your towel drops to the rocks. “Let go!” You try to sound threatening, but your voice breaks when the boy bears down on your neck. He reaches up and grabs your top by the center, yanking it roughly until the ties snap and it crumbles in his hands, leaving you bare—exposed for the first time in front of anyone but your girlfriends.

You reach to cover yourself, but the boy flips you around and wraps his arm around your neck, holding you with a brutal grip. If he flexes, he could asphyxiate you. The others are grinning, egging him on to do more. “Let go of me!” You scream now, trashing your legs when another boy comes up in front of you, Lilahs neighbor. He’d seemed so harmless hours ago, but now he was reaching for your flailing legs until he catches your ankles in his grip, holding them at either sides of his hips.

“Shes feisty, I call first dibs.” The one behind you says, squeezing his arm a little tighter around your throat as you thrash. “Stop!” You shout again. “Please! Please let me go!”

They don’t—they start to move but the boy drops your ankles, so the larger one attempts to drag you. You know this is it for you—if you make it out of this, you wont really be able to say you lived, but a smaller, terrified part of you hopes they sink your body into the lake.

At least then, your mom wont have to look at you with disappointment in her eyes when they find you battered and bruised and broken.

“Please! Dont do this!”

The boy starts to laugh, but the chuckle is cut off by the loudest sound you think you’ve ever heard, a brutal pop ringing through the air.

The arm around your neck releases and you fall to the ground, taking a view cuts from the rocky wet shoreline.

“She said stop.” A gruff voice fills the ringing parts of your ears. You try to scramble up, barley half a mind to cover yourself as you try to crawl away from the group.

Thats when you see him, dressed in a green plaid shirt and work boots with a double barrel shotgun in his hands like your own personal knight in flannel armor.

“Woah man, you cant just run up on people with a gun—“ he points it right at the boy who’s speaking, the one who had grabbed your legs. “She asked you to stop. Im not asking.”

He slides the fore-stock forward and the gun makes a ominous sound as he re-chambers another round. “Get in your vehicle and go.” He doesn’t sound like the type to give second chances, and his face is contorted in a controlled rage, baring his teeth with his finger on the trigger.

The boys don’t push him again as they run to their trucks and pull away from the shoreline, leaving you naked, stranded with no hope of getting out of these woods on your own before dark.

The man lowers his gun and starts to unbutton his shirt and your heart nearly leaps into your mouth again, but the feeling trembles out of you when he leans down and wraps it around your shoulders to cover you up. He’s left in a grey t-shirt that hugs his large shoulders.

“You alright, darlin’?” He soothes one of his hands down your arm once he has you covered. When you look up at him, the trees shift away, the rocks under your ass disappear with the sting from the marks they’d left. Your heart must slow to accompany all of the blood suddenly rushing to your cheeks when you meet his warm eyes. “I-I’m alright, thank you.” He offers a hand to help you up, which you gladly take, allowing him to pull you to your feet gently.

“Whats your name?” You shift and button the shirt over your chest, attempting to hide the embarrassment of him seeing you bare. You tell him your name as you find your sandals and slip them on.

“Im joel…lets—lets get you home, alright?”

Reason #2: Joel was not a boy. He was a fucking man with a greying beard and crinkles by his kind eyes. Joel wouldn’t have ripped your top off with unforgiving fingers, he gave you the shirt off his back. Boys wanted to hurt you, but this man saved you.

To say which incident was the driving force leading you to this realization about yourself, you cant be sure. What you do know, is from that day on, the space in your mind once occupied by boys your age was suddenly bleed dry and replaced by aged hands, frown lines, grey hair and kind eyes.

“Do your parents know where you are? Can you call them?” He asks as he walks with along the trailhead with you a few steps behind him, clutching his shirt like its a life preserver—you’re a castaway drowning in the storm.

“My mom is away on work and my dad went to go get milk about…nine years ago?” You stumble a little in your cheap sandals, trying your best to have a light outlook on this situation—you got away almost unscathed, that and Joel had a nice ass to look at.

“Jesus—sorry, kid. Uhm, My house is half a mile up ahead, I was just down here fishing. S’pose I can drive you home if your willing to walk?”

He’s looking over his shoulder at you as he walks, so you pause where you stand on the rocks. “Im okay to walk.” You cross your arms over your chest and look down at your feet, afraid to talk to him, afraid you’ll say the wrong thing and he’ll change his mind about helping you. “Thank you again, I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t—“ he clears his throat and turns away from you quickly, starting back up the trail. You stare at his back as he walks silently for a few more feet before glancing back to make sure your still with him. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Its just about all you get out of him the entire walk back to his small cabin nestled in the woods. He keeps to his word and doesn’t let you inside, instead he leads you to a old jeep parked out front. He opens the door, wordless in his motions like he has been for the last twenty minutes. You should be reeling from the encounter with your classmates, but the only thing going on in your mind is trying to figure out how to get this man to talk to you.

“Do you live alone out here?” You quirk an eyebrow at him from under your wet hair and he lets out a slow breath, looking down at his mud covered boots. “Yeah—just me out here.” He says it mater of factly, like he knows you must be getting at something.

The forest is quiet, a few birds in the distance and afternoon sun shining through the tree tops. He places a hand on his hip as he leans against the door of the red wrangler. You twist the ball of your foot aimlessly in the dirt and swallow the lump in your throat. “Must get lonely, by yourself all the time.”

He shifts abruptly and starts to head towards the house. “Get in, I’ll just be a moment.” You don’t get a good look at his face, nor can you tell if you’ve said it wrong, you didn’t mean—right now, but you just thought—you should put your interest out there, right? If you are going to stand any chance of not looking like a childish fool when you feel like your on a free fall towards something dangerous.

You watch him walk up the steps onto his porch, listen to the way the door slams behind him while he steps inside. But, he’d told you to get in the Jeep and you owe this man your life. The least you can do it listen when he tells you to do something.

You haven’t had many encounters like this with real adults—ones that didn’t know you, or your mother, or need to judge you based on any of that. None of them had no predetermined idea of what you were—your mothers obedient shadow who did what she was told and kept her mouth shut. Joel didn’t know you, he didn’t know how old you were or who your mother was or how small and hopeless you felt in his bucket seat. You wanted to feel brave—capable of making a man tremble. You wanted to feel like a woman after those boys made you feel so minuscule and worthless.

But the longer Joel takes inside, the more time you have to pick apart your sudden desperate obsession with a man you’ve just met. He’s just a nice guy—trying to make sure you get home safe after he’d witnessed something horrible happen to you. You—a young girl naked under his shirt sitting in his passenger seat.

The door opens and you startle as he gets in. He doesn’t say anything, so neither do you. He doesn’t say anything while he drives down the dirt road towards town, so you twiddle with the buttons on his shirt.

“How old are you?” The question catches you off guard as you hit the main road leading back to town. You look over at him, but he’s still staring at the road with an unreadable expression that almost looks like irritation. “I uhm—I’m sixteen, almost seventeen.”

He huffs what sounds like a laugh, but he’s shaking his head as he rests his elbow on the window sill and leans against it. “Your mother knows your out here with a group of boys who look like they should be in college?” He sounds disappointed in a way you’ve never experienced from a male figure—he sounds like a concerned parent.

“She knows I was going to the lake and they are seniors. Why’s that your business anyways?” You cross your legs and hug your arms tighter to your body. He’s making you feel like your in trouble for something. He chuckles this time, looking over at you quickly before diverting his eyes back to the road. “Thought it might be, seein’ as you were propositioning me on my doorstep not five minutes ago but your somebody’s child.” You cut him off with an abrupt squawk, which you would deny if anyone’s asked you about it.

“I wasn’t propositioning-Im not—“ you look out the window at the trees going by your side of the Jeep. “Not a child? Darlin’, your sixteen years old. This world is…far from a kind place. A nice little thing like you wouldn’t last a day on the wrong side of it.” His words echo through your empty mind, filling you with embarrassment and shame.

You wear red cheeks the rest of the way into town. You point your way towards your house, but before you step out of the Jeep, you take one good look at the kind man who’d saved your life today, even if you’d made a fool of yourself in front of him.

“I think you’re wrong.” He cocks a stern eyebrow at your words. “I am?” He counters, shifting minutely in his seat. You nod your head and open the door. “The world is a kind place or you wouldn’t have helped me today.”

He huffs and looks out the windshield again.

“Silly little lamb…don’t know a wolf when its standing right in front of you.”

You don’t reply, not sure how your supposed to. You close the door behind you and start to head up the walkway to your front door when the window rolls down and the man leans over the center console. “Stay out of trouble, little girl.”

The first thing you do, in fact, is get yourself into trouble.

Not the—trapped with young boys who want to hurt you trouble, the your mother is going to ground you kind of trouble.

“Run this by me one more time so I understand. You got lost by the lake and you met—“ you shift the phone against your shoulder as you make yourself a bowl of cereal (for dinner, of course). “I didn’t meet him, he found me and helped me. Im alright mom, Joel—“

Fuck up, number one.

“Joel? Joel Miller?” Her tone is suddenly sharper and coated in worry. “I don’t know his last name. He lives in a cabin near the lake and he has a red wrangler.” You tell her as you pour milk into your sad little bowl.

“Honey, listen to me…if you see that man again, you turn and go the other way, okay?”

You blink and set down your spoon, confused by your mothers words. Why would you need to avoid Joel? Aside from the fact that he’s a older man with deliciously grey hair and sad eyes that you desperately want to watch roll in the back of his head. “He’s dangerous, I cant even believe you were in a vehicle with—he didn’t say anything…inappropriate did he? Did he make you uncomfortable?”

You wince at yourself and are grateful you aren’t having this conversation with her face to face. “He was very nice, mom, he never made me feel uncomfortable.” Truth be told, you’d made his leg bounce and his fingers rasp against the steering wheel after you’d definitely propositioned him on his doorstep.

“Just—lock the house up good, promise me you’ll stay away from that part of town until I get back, alright? I’ll only be a few more days.”

She should know her troublesome daughter better than that.

You return to Joels the next day with a plate of cookies and his plaid shirt you reluctantly let go of this morning after sleeping curled up in its woodsy scent.

You blush prettily at him and he chases you off his doorstep all over again.

Chapter 2 Here 🖤

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel fanfic #joel miller spicy fanfic #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #archive of our own

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nyxiswrites1200 · 7 months

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𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 ♡ 𝘿𝙖𝙮 7 ♡ 𝙋𝙚𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜

Sebastian x GN!Reader

Stardew Valley

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Warnings: MDNI, Explicit Sexual Content, pegging, penetration, praise, bottom!Sebastian, Top!Reader, kisses, committed relationship

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"Oh fuck- darling-" Sebastian stutters as your hips press into his rear. Sebastian had mentioned wanting to see you top him. He thought it would be interesting and wanted to know if he'd like it.

From the way he was already gripping the sheets, you think you have your answer.

"Does it feel okay?" You ask, leaning over and pressing your chest into his back.

"Mhm, yes… It's good, darling," he responded, a bit breathless.

You leave a soft kiss on the back of his neck before pulling back. Your hands go to rest on his hips, and you pull out a little before thrusting back inside. Earning another moan from Sebastian.

You start a steady rhythm of thrusting in and out of him.

"You're being such a good boy…" You praise him softly, and you swear you hear him whine.

Sebastian gripped the sheets tight as he tried not to make too many noises. But he couldn't help it, with the way your cock was thrusting against the sensitive spots inside him.

"Darling-" he moaned, but his words cut short when your dick bullied its way against his sensitive prostate. He moaned loudly; it was whiny and a bit higher-pitched than you'd expect.

Sebastian tried to form a sentence, but he simply couldn't when they did it again. He buried his face in a pillow as his lover bullied their cock against his sensitive spot.

You looked down at the man beneath you, enjoying the sight of him being fucked out.

"Good boy, Sebby…you're such a pretty boy like this," you praise as you reach down and run your fingers through his hair.

Sebastian lets out another lust-filled moan as he looks back at you with half-lidded eyes. His cock was leaking pre-cum onto the bed as his hole tightened around your cock.

"You getting close, Sebby?" You asked softly, and he responded, breathless. "Yes, darling…"

You started up your thrusts again, a bit rougher. You made sure to still hit that sensitive spot deep inside of him.

Sebastian was desperate for friction, humping his hips into nothing as his cock leaked. He reached down and began stroking himself, his cheek still buried in the pillow, a little bit of drool slipping past his lips.

It didn't take long after that. Sebastian let out a loud moan, followed by some whines as he came. His warm cum shot out onto the sheets of the bed.

You gently rubbed his hips as you waited a moment before pulling out. You bit your bottom lip as you watched his used hole try to tighten again around nothing.

"Did you like that, Sebby?" You asked softly, leaning down and kissing the back of his neck. Sebastian responded softly, "Yes…I enjoyed you being dominant, honey" he huffed out a laugh "I thought it was obvious".

"I'm glad you did" you smile before you sit back on the bed.

"Can I get some help now?" You ask softly. Sebastian glances back at you, watching you spread your thighs open to reveal your own hole, dripping with arousal.

He smirks a little but also blushes lightly. "Yeah, darling. Of course" he says softly before crawling over to you.

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oneiricazalea · 3 months

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017 // OC design

#my art #daily sketch #world | luxenvalice #oc | piroska #one day's sketch was too spicy to post and the other was a design i didn't want to archive so!! missing a few days here #anyway - leaned into the maid + knight motif for her pre-antag design :>

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sedgewicke · 1 year

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Wanna drop this in all the pantries of the Vorin cultural sphere, watch them try to figure it out.

#the stormlight archive #cosmere #it hasn't gone much into the food genders yet #but I'm working off the idea that bacon is masculine #and maybe spicy things #but who can guess in this place #either way I'm sure there's some other kind of confusing jam out there

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bmtillerbabe · 21 days

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Chapter 1 posted on my AO3 now! :)

So... I did a thing. I wrote a, uh.... Spicy Gortash fic 😆

(side note - thank you for 100 readers already!!!! 😍)

Going to be a WIP for a whole, but someone suggested a "Dead Dove", so I gave it a shot!

Hope you enjoy :)

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3 months.

That’s all it had taken.

Well, 3 months and several drinks.

Allow me to explain.

* * * * * * * * *

Enver Gortash wasn’t a name that you’d ever heard of before coming to Wyrm’s Rock.

You didn’t recognize it from a grand and prestigious line of nobles, nor did it ring bells for the upper-class citizens of Baldur’s Gate.

Hells, you didn’t think anyone in the city even knew him before he’d suddenly became Archduke.

Almost overnight, this so-called ‘tyrant’ rose to power with confident ease and a sharp tongue; easily captivating anyone with pockets deep enough to listen.

But there’s always two sides to every Soulcoin.

Though you had heard your fair share of negative views of the man, a great many people were quite keen on sharing some of the more positive aspects of him : how he commanded respect, to and from his many generals; his eloquent speech, and leadership aura; his graceful elegance in court, and knowledge of not only politics, but of all the ins and outs of the city and it’s many laws.

Not to mention, supposedly, he was to be quite the attractive bachelor.

At least, if one were to believe the most recent issue of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette.

Swallowing deeply and scrunching the crinkled newspaper in your fists, you breathed in deep and looked up at the looming shadows of the stone castle standing proudly before you. The wind tousled your long hair around your shoulders, and the sun beamed down with its midday brilliance; somewhere off in the distance, you could hear the distant sounds of the nearby docks and their many travellers mulling around and loading goods and cargo aboard the many ships that traversed the Sword Coast.

You had to admit, now that you were here - you were scared.

What if this went poorly? What if they hated you, what if you were humiliated, what if it was a lie or a scam, or ---

You steeled your shoulders and took a deep breath, shaking your anxious thoughts away.

“Alright, Tav,” You whispered to yourself, “Here we go.”

And willed your frozen legs to take a step forward.

The drawbridge to the castle was down, allowing easy access through Wyrm’s Rock for anyone to pass from the city to the outskirts of Rivington – and you took advantage of this, strutting with your head held high and false confidence thru the courtyard of stone.

This castle was huge.

You’d never seen the inside of this place before in all the time you'd been in Baldur's Gate, and a part of you worried in the back of your mind if this job was going to be too much for you.

You went over and over and over the details of the contract in your mind as many times as you could, as you searched for someone to speak to regarding said contract.

Your insides churned the further in you walked.

Being a chef in and of itself was hard enough, much less when you had a literal castle to feed.

Perhaps you were getting in over your head …

But the payment offer, though …?

You’d never seen such figures offered for a simple job.

You’d been an apprentice chef for as long as you could remember. Your mother had taught you pretty much everything you needed to know, and growing up, you'd bounced with her from city to city in search of new clients and new job opportunities. You’d never stayed in one place too long, much to your dismay. But when you finally became old enough to venture out on your own, you chose a final place to lay down some roots. A place to stay. A place to call 'home'.

You were sick and tired of having to bounce around everywhere all the time, never belonging anywhere.

But all that was about to change.

And this contract you'd found in the most recent edition of the Gazette, might just be the key.

Clutching the newspaper in your hand, you made your way through the castle. It didn't take long for you to find the guard’s station desk, and you approached them; cleaning your throat.

“Hello. I’m Tavriel. I’m here about the job posting – said you were looking for a chef’s assistant for Wyrm Rock’s kitchen?”

The female guard at the desk lifted her eyes up from the parchment she'd been reading over to look at you. Her gaze was cold and calculating; like she was sizing you up.

You fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable beneath her scrutinizing gaze.

Would they judge you for the posting based solely on your appearances? You hoped not.

“I got the paper right here, it says –” You started to say when she made no move to speak, but you were cut off.

“Aye, I know what it says.” And the lady reached across the desk, snatching the paper from your hands with a twist. She adjusted the small pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose, holding them up to her black eyes as she read over the advertisement that had been posted about the chef vacancy.

You felt like it had taken an eternity, but after a few moments, she sighed and gave it back to you.

“Well, I hate to break it to ya, but we’ve already filled this position, sweetie.” Her voice was anything but sympathetic.

Your breath stopped short in your throat, and your mind came to a screeching halt.

“Oh." You uttered softly as your heart sank within you. "I see.”

Idiot, You chastised yourself, I should have known someone else would beat me here. Of course. Who would be crazy enough to turn down that much money? I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up …

You let your eyes fall in disappointment and bowed your head softly. “Thank you for your time.” You thanked, and turned to leave back out the way you came; already contemplating the next best thing you might be able to snag up to keep your room paid up for the next month …

And maybe the gods had finally decided to smile down upon you, maybe the guards that saw you took pity, or maybe it was just plain old luck. Either way, you stopped quickly in your tracks when one of the male guards with a great, bushy beard called out to you.

“Oi! Miss!”

You turned on your heel to watch inquisitively as the rotund man jogged noisily up to you; his armor clanking obscenely as he did so. Huffing softly, he caught his breath before continuing, "The chef’s assistant’s already been filled, but, er … If you’s interested, we’ve still got a position that we ain’t been able to fill for a while, now.”

Your interest was caught in a heartbeat.

Perhaps your dreams weren’t so shattered after all.

“Oh?” You smiled, trying and failing, to keep that warm, fluttery feeling of hope bubble up in your chest.

“Yeh, see, we’ve posted a maid position several times already, but no one’s seemed to want it. The pay ain’t as high as the one you’s was wantin’, but it’s a good, honest job. Decent hours for the wages. I know you was looking for the chef’s spot, but if you’s got your heart set on bein’ here, it’s a good place to start. Get yer foot in the door.”

A maid’s position? Like … a housekeeper?

Your knowledge in that particular area was limited, but money was money. And you did really, really need the money …

“How much does it pay?” You asked.

He rattled off a number that made your eyes go wide.

“For a maid?” You asked, shocked.

What did they expect you to do, get rid of dead bodies?

It sounded too good to be true.

A warning voice went off in the back of your mind - just why hadn’t this particular position been filled yet …?

“Yeh!" The bearded guard continued, oblivious to your contemplating. "I can show you the contract tah that one, if ya want.” He gestured back towards the barracks, beckoning you to follow should you choose.

You pursed your lips. Your mind was at war with itself.

Warning bells sounded, and your stomach sank at the thought of taking a job that you weren't all that familiar with; but the thought of such good pay for something as trivial as being a maid? The logical part of your brain told you it was an easy choice. So, why were you hesitating ...?

I mean, looking isn’t committing to anything, you talked internally to yourself. If it seems sketchy, I’ll just decline and be on my way, no better off than I am now.

That seemed to sate the bells.

And with a polite smile, you nodded; following the guard.

Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise.

Or, perhaps, it was the very poisoned chalice you had sought to avoid.

* * * * * * * * *

After much deliberation, you decided to give the job a try.

Even if anyone had yet to tell you just exactly what it was that the job entailed.

Worst case – you were no better off than you were now, except you might even have a new reference to put on the next job application.

Best case – one of the chef’s positions would open up, and you would be one of the first to know about it; possibly even apply for it!

A housekeeper … it couldn’t be that hard … could it?

Taking your handprint in fresh squid ink, and having your portrait drawn up by a local artist, the guards at Wyrm’s Rock added you to their roster of employees within a matter of days.

These guys worked fast.

But it was on your first day, when you showed up bright and early on schedule, mop and bucket in hand - that the lead guard taking you to your assigned duty station dropped a massive fireball right on your head.

“I’m-I'm sorry … what?” You asked incredulously, making sure you'd heard him right.

The scrawny male guard shied away from your gaze, looking down at his feet.

“Y-yeah … they, er, didn’t tell you?”

“No, they most certainly did not!” You felt as if your mind was going to explode.

You weren’t just going to be any maid – or even a maid for the castle :

You were going to be the personal maid ... for Lord Gortash himself.

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animation-cartoon-fan-writings · 8 months

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Chapter 7 of Book 1: Beautiful Ghosts is out now!!!

Summary: After sneaking off to practice her waterbending, Katara gets captured by Zuko. While in captivity, she begins to feel something new

Here’s an excerpt:

As Katara slowly began to open her eyes, she felt something was off. She tries to move but was unable to before realizing she was tied to a tree. She tries breaking free, to no avail. She was trapped. Looking around her, she quickly spots the two ships she saw earlier, with the pirates from the market crowding around it, now looking straight at her.

“Finally, you’re awake” she hears a familiar voice. Turning her head, she sees Zuko, followed by a whole team of Fire Nation soldiers. She looks at him with a mixture of annoyance and rage. At this point, Katara, Sokka, and Aang have dealt with Zuko and his soldiers four times. Following their first encounter at the South Pole, Zuko had tracked them down to Kyoshi Island before burning it to the ground, tried shooting fireballs at Appa while they were in the air, and attempted to capture Aang himself at Roku’s temple. But, right now, as he stood in front of her while she was tied to a tree with nowhere to go, this was the first time since their interaction at the South Pole that they stood face to face. If looks could kill, Zuko would’ve been long dead.

“Just tell me where he is, and I won’t hurt you or your brother” Zuko commands, doing his best appear intimidating. He probably expected Katara to beg for her life. “Go jump in the river,” she barks, not taking any of the bullshit he throws at her. Appearing to think for a second, his voice suddenly softens, seeming to try a different approach to appeal to her.

As Zuko speaks, he walks around Katara, using his soft tone like a prime master of seduction and desire. Although she didn’t quite understand it at the time nor would she have acknowledged it to begin with, but she was undoubtably feeling turned on by this approach Zuko was taking. “Try to understand. I need to capture him to restore something I’ve lost – my honor”. She jerks her head away from him, trying to appear unamused. She was hoping that by not looking at him, it would be easier for her not to immediately fall for his trap.

As Zuko got closer to her body, Katara could feel his breath on her neck as he spoke, which triggered an unfamiliar feeling in her body. While she appeared to keep up the appearance of being unimpressed, it was starting to take a lot in her just to keep it up. She was a fourteen-year-old girl who, at that point, never had a boyfriend nor even kissed anyone before. She never had another guy around her age show any interest in her like that. And here Zuko was, speaking like he was, trying to appeal to her sense of empathy, but was instead triggering something that she would’ve rather kept under lock and key.

Remembering her as the water tribe girl who knew his games and played them like a pro, Zuko deduced that treating Katara like an equal might serve him better in the end. He softens his voice even more, making even harder for Katara- who was mentally fighting her body’s new sense of desire- to resist. She bites her lower lip in attempt not to show him what he was doing to her. “Perhaps in exchange for your friend, I could restore something important that you’ve lost”. What the hell is this guy talking about, she silently mutters to herself, her brain still fighting against this feeling her body was experiencing for the first time. For a second, she thought Zuko was going to kiss her. Maybe she wanted him to.

Zuko didn’t realize it at the time, but Katara was so close to breaking. His soft, seductive tone and the effect it was having on her body was intoxicating. Had he just kept going like that, she probably would’ve given up and told him where Aang was within a few minutes. Perhaps if he even offered himself in exchange for Aang, she would’ve been more willing to comply.

If you want to read more, here’s the link:

Thank you so much for all the support! Next update will be up soon!

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