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yandere--stuck · 7 months

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"Rarity, can I please go home now?" You asked, voice strained.

Even if the pain in your voice wasn't obvious, it should have been just from looking at you - which Rarity had been for the past several hours! Your hearing was slightly muffled from how flat your ears were pressed against your skull. Occasionally, you'd weakly lift one hoof off the ground for momentary relief, praying that the other three wouldn't give out. If you weren't held up by obligation to your friend, you were sure you'd have slumped to the floor of the platform in exhaustion.

"Oh, but where would I be without my muse?" The mare whirled around from her sewing machine.

Biting back a sneer, you held back your frustration. Something about Rarity simply getting a new muse was held in your jaws like a steel trap. But, you couldn't do that. A heavy sigh heaved out through your snout.

Rarity was your friend. Someone who was always generous and loving toward you, as a good friend should be. It's only fair for you to give her just as much in return. Not only that, but she was an Element of Harmony and owner of two different boutiques. To say she had quite a bit of social standing now was an understatement. Not that you think she'd ever use that against you… No. Never. Not Rarity.

"I'm almost done, dearest, I assure you," the mare promised before turning to look outside. Complete darkness. Her eyes widened, a gasp escaping her. "Oh my, I completely lost track of time. My sincerest apologies, darling!"

A sigh escaped you, your irritation leaving with it. Of course, it wasn't intentional. Rarity would never do this on purpose. Accidents happen. And hay, it'd be over soon, right? With a smile and nod, you waved her off with a shaky foreleg.

"Don't worry about it," you assured. "I just need to get home soon."

"Oh… I don't think that'd be a good idea. It's far too dark out now, I'd feel awful having you leave on your own. How about you stay the night?"

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose…"

"Of course!" Rarity whinnied, trotting over to look up at you. "It's been some time since I've had a sleepover, and there's nopony I'd rather spend time with than my muse."

You watched as Rarity reached up for you, feeling the soft underside of her hoof cup the side of your face, gently stroking your fur. You couldn't help the smile and slight flush that rushed to your cheeks. Rarity always made you feel like a star, the most important pony in the room. And she was so comforting... You leaned into her touch and, just for a moment, allowed yourself to close your eyes...

You felt the world go off balance, wobbly legs giving out from under you as you went careening toward the floor. A cry of surprise escaped Rarity. The floor rushed up to you, nothing underneath you and legs too weak to catch your fall- oh, this was gonna smart!

But, suddenly, everything stilled, as if time itself stopped. Your vision was filtered through a blue hue. Darting your eyes around to get your bearings, you spotted the mare. Her face was twisted in concentration and her horn covered in a blue aura. Rarity… Rarity had saved you!

With great effort, she slowly lowered you to the ground by her side. Immediately, she pressed herself up against you for you to lean on. The feeling of her fur was so warm against your own. The moment you were released from her aura, you fell against her.

"Rarity," you mumbled, pressing the side of your face against hers. You were so tired…

"Let's get you to bed, dearest," you heard her say. "You can take my bed. You've more than earned it."

You could barely walk, let alone reply or keep your eyes open. You let her guide you through the boutique, helping you gently up the stairs before eventually you found it. Salvation. The feeling of a soft mattress and satin sheets and even better, nothing under your hooves for you to keep yourself held up.

Rarity held herself back from squealing or jumping for joy in her excitement. It worked! Her plan worked! Ah, but, how could it not have? Finally, Her beloved muse would never leave her again. Oh, how she adored you.

And how glad she was that you were far too exhausted to even notice the shackles that clasped around your hooves, secured by a bedpost.

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, she whispered a wish for sweet dreams. And in the morning, you'd start the rest of your lives together.

A happily ever after. Just like she'd always dreamed of.

#yandere x reader #yandere mlp #mlp x reader #yandere rarity #rarity x reader #yandere rarity x reader #yandere mlp x reader #my little pony x reader #yandere my little pony #x reader #yandere #yandere imagines

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leighsartworks216 · 4 months

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The Burlesque Boutique

Astarion x gn/fem!Tav/Reader

Based on this art by @marbledgummi

I could not resist

There are two versions of this fic. Read the male/AMAB version here

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: explicit smut, crying, orgasm denial, swearing, one reference to past trauma, pegging

Word Count: 2,619

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Dove?”

Astarion poked his head into the study. You were hunched over the desk on your side of the room, hands working away at something. The other half of the room (his half) was cluttered with sewing and jewelry supplies, half-made dresses and suits, and a stack of pillows for when he wanted to take a nap without straying too far from you. He never really imagined settling down, owning a house, but now he couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

“Did you order something from,” he glances at the box in his hand, “the ‘Burlesque Boutique’, by any chance?”

“No,” you answered. You look up from your project with a quirked brow. “Why?”

His mouth opens, about to explain. But then a wicked little idea curled around his brainstem, crooking a finger at him and tempting him toward mischief. Instead, he smiled in that way that showed he was planning something. You raise your brows higher at him. “No reason, darling.”

“Mhm.” You turn back to your work. “Don’t catch anything on fire.”

He scoffs, shouting back as he pads down the rest of the hall to the bedroom. “It was one time!” He heard you chuckle in response.

The box wasn’t big - a foot or so wide and rectangular. It also wasn’t much to look at, despite the shop’s name in script on the top suggesting something racy or scandalous. He flipped it over a few times, but there was no name. The mail carrier must have delivered it to the wrong house, or it was a lame prank from some teens.

He sighed. He really hoped it was something more than that.

He cut the silky red ribbon holding it shut with a knife he kept in his bedside table. He almost considered saving it. If the rest of this turned out to be a bust, at least he could tie your hands up with this. But the rope he had for such an act was much softer, and quite a bit stronger. So he dropped it carelessly to the side and lifted the lid.

He chuckled, delighted and utterly amused as he unfolded the tissue paper and revealed a set of pink and white lingerie. The top was a sheer negligee with thin straps and a little bow that would rest prettily between a pair of breasts. Long, white stockings were folded beneath it, with a matching garter belt to keep them up.

Oh, this was… He could just picture you wearing it, all dolled up just for him.

And then the thought turned back on him.

What if he got all dolled up for you? He wasn’t a stranger to wearing feminine clothing - you’d particularly enjoyed him in the Wavemother’s robe. Testing the thought, he lifted the negligee by the straps and held it up to his chest. It looked like it would fit…

He started to lower it back into the box when something else caught his eye. He placed it on the bed instead and moved the stocking out of the way and- Oh. Oh gods. A pretty pair of panties hidden at the bottom of the box, the same pink as the negligee and with a little ribbon of its own.

Now, how could he resist?

You didn’t jump when arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind, so used to Astarion’s habit of sneaking up just for affection. He pressed like kisses to the side of your neck as he peered over your shoulder.

Your hands worked diligently on your project. Astarion pressed another kiss just below your ear, where he whispered, “Can you spare a moment, darling? I wish to show you something.”

You hum, taking in his words but too focused to answer. Once you find a good moment to stop, you set everything down and turn your head to look at him. “What is it, star?”

He grins deviously as he captures your lips, cupping your cheek and keeping you in place. He’d hate to spoil the surprise.

He doesn’t pull away as he sidles around your chair. You sigh quietly into his mouth when he parts your lips with his tongue. The sound alone makes his cock twitch, pressed tightly against the lace of the panties that keep it in place. He groans quietly.

Dexterous as ever, he sits himself on your lap easily, straddling your legs. You automatically reach up to support him, hands landing on his hips to keep him from sliding off, but then your eyes shoot open.

He’s smirking when you pull away with wide eyes as you lean back to take him in. You can’t get enough. Your eyes trail all down his body, looking at his chest and stomach through the sheer pink negligee. The garter belt hugs his waist, straps reach down his thighs to hold onto the tall stockings. The matching lace panties, bulging with his growing erection. A pretty silk ribbon is tied around his neck, just below his Adam’s apple.

You look up at him in awe, all flushed with dilating pupils. “Where did you get this?”

“Somebody left a package at the door,” he explains, leaning down to kiss at your neck. You immediately give in to the attention, tilting your head to the side as you grip his thigh and tangle your fingers in his hair. “No name, no address. I expected a prank, but the temptation was too good to miss.”

He nipped at your pulse and you groaned. “Speaking of temptation.” You tugged at his hair, pulling him away from your neck. A little harder than strictly necessary, but he just grinned as his head was tipped back with the pressure. The ribbon strained against his throat. “Gods, how should I have you?”

“In any way you please, my love.”

You smirk up at him. “In any way?” You tug at his hair again, drawing a grunt of pleasure from your lover. His Adam’s apple bobbed, fully exposed and prominent. You release his hair and slide your hand to his throat. He watches through lidded eyes. With deft fingers, you pull at one end of the ribbon, and it comes apart, falling from his neck. You tap his thigh. “Get up.”

He gives you an uncertain look, almost a frown, but he complies. You stand and push him back until his ass hits the edge of the desk. He blindly reaches behind him to push your stuff back carelessly. You’re too entranced with him and the lewd images racing through your mind to care.

You grab his hip and push lightly, telling him without words what you wanted him to do. He lifts himself onto the edge. You press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Good boy.”

You step back to take him all in. Such a pretty little thing, all dressed up in someone else’s lingerie just for you.

You don’t take your eyes off his as you kneel down before him. The sight of you on your knees, face so close to his aching cock, sends a thrill down his spine. He grips onto the edge of the desk to retain some self-control.

You hold onto his legs as you begin trailing kisses along them. You kiss a line from his knee, up along the stocking, until you finally reach skin. There, you nip at the soft flesh. Closer and closer to where he needs you.

He groans above you. “You’re going to kill me at this rate,” he whines.

You grin against his skin, but don’t immediately act to provide him any relief. Instead, you kiss and bite your way to the edge of the panties. And, devil that you are, you kiss over the bulge. It twitches under your lips as Astarion hisses. You lick a stripe against it and he tenses with a strangled moan.

“Gods, please,” he begs, voice airy. “Too tight. Too tight.”

Mercifully, you pull the lace down, freeing him from his prison and tucking it under his balls. His dick was hard and sensitive. A small bead of precum already shined at the head.

“Desperate?” you tease.

He glares down at you. “Excited,” he corrects sharply. “To have your pretty little mouth around me.”

You hum, studying his dick. The longer you did nothing, the more it strained, eager to be touched, tasted, teased. You press a little kiss at the head, kitten-licking the precum away as his hips buck for more.

And then you stand. He whines.

“Bedroom. I want to take you properly.”

He wastes no time, leaping up from his seat and rushing to the bedroom. You follow after, leisurely. He sits at the edge of the bed, fingers digging into the covers to stop from touching himself. You walk around to your bedside table. “Lay down.”

His eyes never stray from you as he crawls back to the center of the bed. He swallows excitedly as you pull out a small container of oil and your strap-on. You had it specially made - everything the strap feels, you can feel, as though it is an extension of your own body.

Truth be told, Astarion doesn’t bottom very often. It can bring back bad memories, of being used, but he enjoys this immensely, and he can’t wait to be fucked by you.

You kneel by him and lean down to kiss him. It’s hot and eager, Astarion nipping and sucking as he tries to distract himself. Your hand finds his inner thigh and his hips jerk to find friction. You don’t provide him any, of course.

You pull away to kiss his neck, massaging his thigh and hip as you mark him up. “Such a good boy,” you whisper into his skin. He whines, pressing his head back into the bed. He loves your praise.

His cock is weeping and red with need when you pull away. You stand and make your way to the foot of the bed. “Back or stomach?”

Gods, thinking about either makes him keen. He has to bite his lip to form a coherent thought. “Stomach.”

“Flip over.”

He does immediately. He gets on his hands and knees, back arching in anticipation. His cock dribbles onto the sheets, but neither of you can care in this moment.

He feels the bed shift as you climb back on behind him. He tries to look back, to see what you’re doing. It’s futile. All he knows is he needs to be touched so fucking bad. It consumes his entire mind.

You slide the panties down until it’s bridging between his thighs, unable to be fully removed with the garter belt holding up the stockings. You caress one of his ass cheeks, pulling it to the side to reveal his tight asshole. You bite the other cheek, quite hard, enough to leave a slight imprint of your teeth. He lowers down to his elbows so he can press his face in his arms.

“Good?” you ask, pressing a light kiss over the reddening mark.

He nods frantically. “Don’t stop,” he whimpers.

Your hand leaves him for a moment, but he can hear the sound of the oil bottle opening. You slick your fingers and spread his cheeks once more. He can’t help the keening moan that erupts from his mouth when you rub and prod at his entrance. He tries to rock back into your fingers, to fuck himself on them, but you hold him in place.

You take your time to gently stretch him, adding one finger at a time and never going deep enough. At one point, you push your fingers as deep as they can go and he sobs into his arms.

When you think he’s ready, you slick your strap with more oil, sitting up on your knees and grabbing onto his hips with both hands. He’s a mess, pressing into you against his will. He needs you inside him.

You coo sweetly to him. “Don’t worry, my love, I’ve got you. You’re so pretty like this.” You line up your strap with his asshole and slowly, so fucking slowly, push in. He groans and keens and makes all sorts of lovely noises. He grips at the bedsheets and squirms slightly as you fill him. “So fucking gorgeous. My good boy. So good.”

You still when your hips are flush with his ass. He whines and tries to press back again, but there’s nothing more to take. He is completely full of your cock.

You roll your hips and he gasps, babbling to beg you to move, to fuck him. You shush him as you slowly pull your strap almost all the way out, and press in again. There’s less resistance each time, until you can set a good pace without hurting him.

He moans and whines your name, gasping when you sharply thrust into him. The negligee slips down his body with the rocking motion until it pools around his chest and bunches at his shoulder blades.

“You look so good in pink, baby,” you tell him. You lean over his back and press loving kisses on his neck and shoulders. He turns his head to try looking at you, to try to say something playful. But he can’t open his eyes, and none of his words come out as words. “You’re being so good for me, pretty boy. I’ll take care of you.”

You sit back up and grab his hips tighter, pulling them toward you with each thrust. He cries out as you pound into him, speeding up as you feel your own orgasm approaching. Your movements become sloppy and lose the rhythm, but you only fuck him harder and faster to compensate. You can tell he’s close. He gasps breathlessly against the covers, hips rocking for friction against the air. He’s so fucking close.

You lift a leg to be effectively kneeling behind him. It changes the angle just enough that you rub against his prostate with each thrust. He moans loudly, the sound choking in his throat and coming out as a desperate whine. He doesn’t last.

A few more thrusts and his orgasm tears through him. He cums hard, body trembling and cock twitching as he finally finds the release he longed for, without hardly being touched.

His asshole clenches around you, squeezing your strap with each spurt of cum. You don’t stop fucking him until you orgasm, buried deep inside his ass. You’re both panting, whimpering messes as your legs tremble, as he stains the blankets and coats his stomach. The negligee is just barely out of reach, unstained by just a hair.

When you’re both spent, you sit there a moment, catching your breath. You slowly ease out of him. He whimpers softly, but sighs contently once the pressure is gone. His legs are unsteady, hands merely resting on the blankets instead of clutching for dear life.

You get up from the bed and go to the side to help him roll over and lay on his back without laying in his own spend. He clumsily finds your hand where you held his waist and holds it.

“Good?” you ask again. You push his matted curls from his forehead and kiss his brow. He nods against your lips. He still can’t quite find his words. You kiss his cheek. “Bath?”

He nods again, but holds tighter to your hand when you try to pull away. “Not yet,” he mumbles. He draws your hand up to his face, holding it to his cheek as he leans into it with a quiet sigh.

You press your head to his, kissing his temple and the length of his ear tenderly. “Take your time, my love. I’ll take care of you.”

---

Tag List:

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