Sebastian tapped twice on your shoulder, a silent demand of “on your knees”.
You sank, the harsh gravel of the alley sinking its claws into your skin, each pebble punishing the shift of your weight as you anxiously waited.
You could hear him behind you bidding goodbye to Ominis, shared laughter between them surely at your expense.
The unbuckling of his belt came next, the hairs on the back of your neck standing.
“My love..” Sebastian mumbled, his voice a heavy mix of dominance and loving, rounding to face you. His gentle fingers found your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his. “Are you going to take care of what you started?”
You nodded, carefully nuzzling into his hand.
He traced along your jaw, finding your lips and prying them open before leaning down to spit on your tongue. He forced your jaw closed with the same saliva covered fingers.
“You look stunning in red, darling,” Astarion drawled.
He lazily traced the colored rope with his dagger as he circled you like prey, flipping between the sharp and blunt ends as it kissed your skin ever so closely.
Your shaking breath hit the fabric shoved in your mouth, jaw aching. Bound and gagged, just how Astarion needed you, at his whole and complete mercy, pure trust handed to him on a silver platter. He reveled in the power he could hold over you, yet you’d still beg for more.
“Doing so well for me…” he praised, watching the goosebumps raise on your skin wherever he claimed, tip of the knife never too pushing, only enough to make your heart flutter and your knees weak.
He rounded you like an animal, pushing your legs apart with hungry eyes and a filthy tongue.
Your heart pounded faster as you felt the handle of the knife press against your entrance, pushing forward with little hesitation that made you drool.
you have no idea how talented you are like you are giving us feature length fics for kinktober and we are so blessed. I love your bg3 work and look forward to all of it even if isn’t always my cup of tea because you write it so well
im gonna make out with you rn thank u for the message it means so much u stinking cutie pie!!!!!
The crew took it upon themselves to tease you both all week, quips of “get married already” and “thanks for the food, mom and dad”.
Gale didn't miss the multifaceted flush of your cheeks.
“Got me thinking,” he murmured as he fucked you, hand slipping between heated bodies, pressing the pads of calloused fingers against your swollen heat. The cool night breeze barely broke the barrier of sticky air inside your tent. The stocky difference between the hunger of his fingers, moving quick and needy while rocking his hips so slow and deep had you gasping for more, fingers gripping the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Think you’d like it if I finally filled you up, hm?”
A breathy gasp was your only response, though the tensing of your grip around his waist and the shaking of your heels pressing into the thick of his back spoke a clear and needy demand of yes, hells please.
“Seems my intuition never fails me,” he chuckled, smug and cocky glaze settling in. A steady grip on your waist pulls you closer to him and you clench hard, nails biting at the skin of his wrists.
“Gale— gods— I need—”
Gale tutted his disapproval.
“The gods aren’t listening to your sweet sin, darling. You say my name and my name only.”
You whined, using the grip on his hair to pull him down, face to face.
“Slow,” Enzo whispered, eyes heavy and glazed as he watched you get situated. Your knees rested on either side of his hips, giving you both a well-deserved moment to regain your breath.
“’m trying,” you panted. “Just need a second.”
Enzo’s fingers twitched where they lay at his sides, jaw clenching as he fought the need to touch you. He wanted to let you rest, to let you enjoy coming down from your high before he even thought about dragging you into a second round. But Merlin, he just couldn’t resist you. Not when you were blissed out, a living picture of ethereal beauty on top him. He smirked, pride swelling in his chest.
“Darling, we’re going for round two if you keep moving like that.”
You glared up at him, head resting heavy on his chest, clenching around him in mock punishment.
His head fell back with a groan, hands grabbing your thighs to stable himself. You balanced your weight forward, pressing a stretched kiss to under
Theo smiled against your lips as you hummed in response to the curly haired boy behind you, thoughts warm and thick like honey slow to form. Two pairs of torturous pairs worked your form free of robes, revealing the sensitive skin of shoulders and thighs, goosebumps singing as both men trailed their calloused fingertips over the new skin, both cautious and bruising in their exploration.
“Good boy,” Mattheo spoke again, lips against your skin yet words spoken for the man sinking to his knees in front of you. You blinked your heavy eyes open, watching as he ran his hands through Theo’s hair, down to his jaw and cupping his chin. “Go ahead and make them feel good.”
Theo was eager, sliding to slot himself in between your legs. With the help of Mattheo, he propped a leg over his shoulder before going straight to work, mouth hot and seeking and so goddamn good.
Your hips pushed forward searching for more, back arching as they moved you into position like they owned your pleasure. Mattheo held your wrists behind your back, forcing you to stand still, to ‘be good and take it’.
You melted in between them, rolling and writhing and giving in as best you could.
Theodore Nott was possessive in a way that people didn’t quite understand.
He wasn’t puffing his chest out whenever another man approached his girlfriend, nor was he threatened by other men attempting to flirt. He didn’t care when people ogled his girl because he knew you were gorgeous and he knew you would be coming home with him at the end of the night. He didn’t care about other people because he had you and that was all that mattered to him.
But sometimes—just sometimes—one teeny, tiny little thing could set off that possessive spark in his chest.
This time it had been the relentless and blatant attempts your potions partner had been making at you.
And truly, on any other day and in any other situation, Theo wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care because you were his and he knew that, and he knew that you knew it too. But it had been weeks now. Weeks and weeks of countless flirting and smiling and giggling, and the thing that really set him off was your refusal to admit that your potions partner was flirting.
He’s just being nice to me, you had told him with a shake of your head. Not every boy that is nice with me wants to get in my pants, Theo.
But he did know. He knew exactly what the boy was trying to do. He knew because he saw the little looks and smirks your potions partner would send him during the lesson to taunt him, but you were so hellbent on believing the slimy bastard over your own boyfriend that it set him off.
If you wouldn’t tell your potions partner that you belonged to him, then he would just have to do it for you.
You had been sitting on his lap, peacefully reading some book that he had only vaguely been skimming over your shoulder. It was late on a Friday evening, meaning most students had something better to do other than loitering around the common room like you two had been doing.
His fingers had been playing with the hem of your skirt, tugging on the fabric just to watch the way your lips twitched at the movement before he noticed your potions partner coming in through the main hallway entrance.
He tried to ignore him. He really, really did. But then the fucker came over, smiling at you as he greeted you and made a point of sitting just within earshot of you like he was waiting for you to start a conversation, and Theo couldn’t handle it anymore.
“Theo,” you whispered, a little confused when you felt him pushing the fabric of your skirt further up your thighs. “Theo, what are you—”
“Do you like the fact he’s here?” Theo hissed in your ear, his grip firm on your thighs as he pulled your legs apart. “Do you like the attention he gives you?”
You gasped as you tried to clench your legs shut. “Theo, there are people—”
“People or him?” Theo grumbled, nosing your jaw as he hooked your legs over his so he could keep you open. “You don’t want him to see you like this, princess? Don’t want him to see who you fucking belong to?”
Your stomach dipped at his words. “You know I belong to you.”
“But do you know that?” He retorted, his voice tense and gruff and it shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it was. “You think you can run around and flirt and bat your eyes, and I won’t say a word?”
You shook your head, a choked noise of pleasure leaving your lips when his thumb pressed down over your clothed cunt. “I-I don’t—”
“Such an attention whore,” Theo commented, a dark chuckle leaving his lips when you bucked your hips against his hand. “Look at you, fucking desperate for me.”
“Theo, please,” you breathed out, turning your head to nuzzle your face into his neck. “We can go upstairs—”
“No,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “No, you are gonna sit here like the fucking brat you are and you’re gonna take it all, and you’re gonna let everyone see. Especially that bastard.”
And that was exactly what he was going to do.
He didn’t care the fact you were hiding your face in his neck, or the tears welling up in your lash line. He didn’t care about the fact that there were other people in the common room, or the fact someone could walk in and get a direct few of your soaking cunt. He didn’t give two shits because you were his—his love, his girlfriend, his whore—and he wanted the whole damn castle to know.
“Please, please, please, please,” you cried out, shaking in his hold as your arousal dripped down your thighs, the debauched noises of his fingers pumping into your pussy echoing through the common room. “Theo, I-I can’t—I need you.”
“I know, princess, I know,” he cooed, his tone a little condescending and patronising as he pushed you further and further over the edge. “You need me. You’re my good little slut, aren’t you, love? Just a perfect whore f’me.”
“Just you,” you sobbed pathetically, your back arching against his chest. “Just you, Theo, just you. Promise.”
Theo turned his head to the side, catching a glimpse of your potions partener. His face was bright red, his eyes were looking anywhere but you and he was squirming in his seat as the sounds of your moans echoed through the room.
Theo couldn’t help but let his lips twitch upwards with a smirk.
“That’s right, honey, just for me,” Theo cooed, watching the way you came undone in his arms with your release dripping down his wrist and your thighs. “Now open that pretty mouth, need you to take care of this mess you’ve made, princess.”
“Fuck, that’s right—,” Gale spit through gritted teeth. The moonlight speared through the open window like a spotlight, highlighting the sweat beading at his forehead - as is Selune herself was enjoying the show.
The rest of the inn was quiet, save for the muffled squeals and moans from your room. Eyebrows furrowed and jaws clenched as you used each-other for pleasure, craving a desperate and sweet hit of relief in between days and nights that blurred together with the scent of bloodshed. Gales hands were everywhere, heavy and grounds and so needy, gripping at the flesh of your sides, thighs, arms— wherever he could reach, he left his touch.
“Give it to me,” he panted, nails digging in below your hips, flighty hands reaching up to grab, stabling himself around your neck as he fought off his own pleasure in seeking yours.
Your eyes rolled back as he squeezed, the lack of air sharpening your vision. You could physically see the energy of you both, the flickering flames of oncoming pleasure ready to pounce like a lion on his lamb.
Gale grinned as he watched you rise and fall, writhe and collapse under his complete control.
“You are changing me, my heart. I am not particularly fond of him touching what is rightfully mine.”
Halsin’s warm breath gently caressed your ear, his hand resting on your thigh as he held you close, perched on his lap in front of the dying campfire. Your companions had already retired to their tents, leaving the two of you to share idle conversation. Wyll was the last to retire, his eyes lingering on yours with a not-so-subtle invitation before he left. As though you were not completely and utterly claimed, your lover's strong arms encircled your body, your weight carefully balanced on his thigh.
His statement broke the flow of the otherwise innocent conversation. You could only manage a soft 'oh?' in response.
Halsin hummed in contemplation, his free hand tracing the curve of your spine.
“You know, if we were still in the grove, I could have him erradicated for even daring to cast his gaze upon you.”
“Oh, really? Would the esteemed archdruid abuse his position of power for my sake?” You couldn't help but giggle, though a heated blush crept up at the thought.
His hand moved to the nape of your neck, tenderly cupping your skin and exerting a slight pressure, compelling you to gaze up at him.
“Are you mocking royalty, my beloved?” His voice dropped an octave, punctuating his words with a firm kiss behind your ear. “That is deserving of punishment by the archdruid himself.”
Neither of you could ignore the way your breath caught in your throat.
“Should I administer your discipline right here, over my knee, or perhaps back in the privacy of our tent?”
kinktober 2023, day two.
if The Malfoy’s were just rich and assholes without the whole murdering and dark lord situation, this is how I’d imagine things would go.
Draco Malfoy was the only child of the notorious and disgustingly wealthy partnership of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. The family was well known at Hogwarts for their formidable financial generosity, making sure their names were seen across grants, scholarships and new building construction plans alike. They were a legacy family, going so far back to only one hundred years after the founders themselves spoke the academic wards into existence. It was ‘their lineage duty’, Draco would mock his parents’ voices in the echoing halls as he and his friends passed yet another wing expansion baring his family moniker.
In true Malfoy fashion, Draco was no stranger to academic excellence. He had top marks in each of his classes and the first spot on the infamous Slug Club list. He was captain of the quidditch team, poster boy prefect of the year, and still managed to coin himself as the school’s “bad boy” that had all orientations lusting over him. He was only useful to you by bringing in his families money that single handedly funded all seven years of your degree.
That was, until last summer at the Malfoy Foundation Seasonal Banquet. All scholarship trustees were required to come to all Malfoy Foundation parties as part of their academic agreement. They were boring, yes, but a small price to pay. Of course poor Draco was forced to attend, creating the only similarity between the two of you.
For some reason unbeknownst to you, Draco had decided his dying mission at these gatherings was to get you to break for him.
It started with slight teasing here are there, a smirk birthed on his face the first time he accidentally brushed up against your chest reaching for a refill of champagne. It was the first time he made you shiver, a small and lewd gasp of delight leaving your lips before you realized what beast you had awoken. It quickly turned into sitting next to you at dinner on purpose, dropping things underneath the table to delve down, pale and featherlight fingertips brushing up the back of your calf to your inner thigh.
The blonde sadist had a plan for tonight. You caught his gaze as you swayed into the manor, a devilish twinkle in his eyes before sending you a wink. Your stomach twist, images that plagued you the night before returning now, picturing it was Draco’s hands instead of yours. You watched as he made his rounds towards you; politely shaking hands with Richard Evergreen, forcing a laugh at Sir Jackson Atlens questionable jokes, routinely nodding and bowing at each scholarship winner as he passed. When he finally saddled up next to you, the banquet was in full swing.
“What do you say we go on a more personal tour of the manor, mon tresor?”
Leaving you no room for denial, he twined his fingers with yours, making a hasty exit through a gap through the royal green curtains. They were dark enough to block the view of the rest of the banquet, but way too thin to block sound. You watched his Draco loosened his tie before sinking to his knees before you.
“Draco, are you mad?!” You hissed.
“Are you?” He spat back. His hand slipped under your dress, blindly searching for the back of your knee before lifting and tugging you forward, your leg now thrown over his shoulder. “You think you can show up wearing this and expect me not to instantly devour you? What a daft little child. Should I tell my parents to take you off the grant list?”
Your hands found his hair quickly, holding tight as he left a string of scorching kisses up your inner thigh, hot breath hitting your sex with the lack of fabric.
hello!!!! i hope i'm not bothering but may i ask if you got my mattheo + enzo eiffel tower vibe kinktober request? tumblr often eats my asks and sends them to the void, so i hope this does not across as rude🥹 i'm just making sure!!🥹
i did get it! unfortunately i already have a threesome on the list for kinktober, so maybe after 😋
Hi!! If you are still taking requests for kinktober do you think you could do Draco Malfoy spanking the reader but kind of being sweet about it if that makes sense?? I love your writing!
I feel really bad asking this bc I don’t want to come off as annoying I’m just worried tumblr is doing its thing again and eating asks. I was just wondering if you ever got my kinktober request (I’ll admit I stocked your page). It was the Draco x Reader where the reader is always giving so he flips it on her and insists on pleasing her instead <3
yes I did, no worries!! I haven’t figured out what “kink” to pair with it yet to write it on the masterlist, but it will be done 🥰
update; i paired it with bodyworship! it’s on there 😋
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