Also known as I blinked and wrote 2K of dom!Ascended Astarion x turned female reader. Oops 😇😈
Ascended Astarion x f!reader |E| 2K of BDSM
Summary: you burn, waiting for his return, waiting for your punishment…. Waiting for him
CW: degradation, BDSM, bondage, orgasm denial, and the sweet satisfaction that comes with its fulfillment
Continue for your delicious recompense…
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You lay stretched on the bed, arms numb from where they are tugged tight, bound to the headboard far above you. Your legs however, you wiggle, writhing, the ache he’s left between your thighs still burning hot.
And you are powerless to do anything about it. Your folds tingle, left untouched, unsated for the hour he’s been gone. And all you’ve been allowed to do it was the clock tick, left wanting as he attends to matters of state.
Punishment.
You seemed a little too friendly with some Druid, someone… you don’t even remember his name. But the smile you gave was enough to stoke Astarion’s ire and flame his jealousy. Enough to have him sweep you away and bind you to your bed. To tease you with his fingers and tongue until you were close.. so close to bursting. Only to have him pull away.
And then he ordered you… compelled you… not to lose your focus on just how badly you wanted him.
You don’t know for certain if it was your bond, as master and bride, as maker and spawn, that kept your loins absolutely on fire for him, or if it was just the magic of your lust for him.
Does it matter? Not a jot, not as you squeeze your thighs together, the sheets beneath you soaked with your arousal as you wait.
Footsteps approach your door, whimpers escaping your mouth as you tug at your bindings. The clock begins to strike the hour, its resonant chime deafening to your ears, every sense of your body burns with overstimulation. You can almost smell him on the other side of the door, the waft of spice and bergamot making your mouth water.
Making your cunt drip more down to the bed as you hear the faint click of the key in the lock.
The bolt draws back, and he enters at last. His face is cold, eyes heavy-lidded as he turns his back on you to shut the door.
And to lock it again. Pocketing the key inside his doublet.
Your heart races, a slight edge of fear spiking your pulse and clamping around your lungs.
But he only shushes you. “Oh, you naughty little girl,” he sneers. “Glad to smell you’re still so hot for me,” he croons as he turns and crosses to the bedside. Instantly, he shoves three long, cold digits into your cunt.
The hum of approval from his throat is nearly enough to send you into bliss. But he simply withdraws his touch. Not a stroke, or a curl or catch on your clit. He merely pulls away to wipe your slick on your panting belly. “There’s hope for you yet, my sweet…” his eyes flash, his body coming to cage you in, the bed buckling beneath you as he slinks over you, careful not to let one inch of his body touch yours. “….that is assuming you still want me? That you’re not ever going to throw seductive smiles and come-hither eyes at anyone else.”
“I wasn’t…” you moan, but his hand flies to cover your mouth, fingers tangy and wet from your arousal.
“Shhh, don’t you insult me by arguing,” that gaze rakes down your naked figure. His lips curl into a sad sort of smirk. “The least you can do is assure me, darling, that you are mine…”
You nod, vigorously. Your breath stifled, his palm over your mouth and nose. He lifts it away, smiling as you gasp for air. “Yours, only ever yours, my love,” you pant. You strain against the silken bonds that still pull at your wrists.
“Better,” he purrs, “much better. Your body says as much, as well. But you’ll still have to prove it, darling. Prove to me that your words are not false.” The tips of his fingers ghost down your neck, trailing feather light between your shaking breasts and circling over your clenching belly.
His hand comes to slink beneath your ass, his hand clutching hard as suddenly he flips you on the mattress. All that power surges from him, stinging your skin as your world spins. Your numb arms ache, your face buried into the silken sheets. The sounds of his clothing rustling is the only warning you get before you feel the hard, cold lines of his body coming to rest on your back.
He bears all his weight down on you. Crushing you. Suffocating you. But his kiss at the sensitive spot beneath your ear is gentle. His voice, that honeyed melody that only makes you wetter. Hotter. “Are you going to be good, my sweet, sweet little slut, so wet and needy?” He takes your ear between his teeth, his sucking kiss deafening, making your whole spine tingle and twitch under him.
You nod, breathless, pained. You moan, “yes,” wanting nothing more than to show how much you do desire him. To show him how wrong he is to doubt you. You shiver, burning and throbbing in agony. But then you feel his kisses, trailing down the curve of your spine. Heavy, sucking, they ground you. Soothe you. His hands lift your hips, holding you steady, fingers sweeping through your drenched seam, catching your clit with just enough force to make you buck against him.
“How badly do you want me, darling?” he rasps in your ear, bracing an arm by your head to press his hissing lips right against your temple. “You tell me, you beg me, and I might do something about it, my love.”
“So badly,” you buck your hips against his hand, feeling his fingers slide deep inside your channel.
He chuckles as he strokes you. “But how badly, darling?” He withdraws his hands, his tongue lapping at your ear to send tangible shivers through your frame. “Badly enough for you to beg?” Those fingers catch that secret spot only he knows between your slick walls. “Badly enough to have you on all fours, keening for me to fuck you?”
“I… beg... you…” you do keen, relief instantly flooding your core as his fingers dive right back in, as they assume a demanding pace, one finger teasing your clit with such command and precision, your vision blurs.
“Good girl… for now… but you have been such a bad, lustful slut, you know,” he purrs into the creases of your ear, the weight of his body easing as he shifts behind you, his hand caressing over every inch of you, the other still stroking deep inside, bringing you so close to your bliss, you can taste its sweetness and feel its tingling heat just starting to crest.
But then, with a low-throated giggle, he extracts his touch, “You better beg me again for my mercy, better show me you’re not just willing to spread your legs for any powerful male that comes sniffing after you…” fingers claw into the fullness of your ass, squeezing it as he growls in your ear. “After all, you were so easy to seduce, to make you mine… always so wet and greedy and eager for a fuck… maybe a little reminder of how much you’re mine is in order.”
You feel the swell of his cock’s head pressing just at the edge of your folds.
“Remind me all you want, my love, but I know I'm yours alone,” You want to cry, tears in your eyes and drool in your mouth as you moan, “So please, dammit, I beg you. I’ll only ever be yours, and you know it.”
“I do know it,” he croons, mock condescension warming his voice as he slides his length in just an inch or two before he pulls back out, “but I do just so like to hear it from those lips of yours, darling.”
“Fuck you, Astarion,” you groan as he does it again, just the bulge of his head dipping into your wetness.
“That’s what you want… isn’t it?” he taunts you, that silken wickedness in his voice, “for me to fuck you?” An arm wraps around your waist, a single finger slides between the crest of your folds to catch your clit again.
You groan, throat going sore with how loud you cry. “Yes, please, please, my love…” you pant. “My body, my smile, my glances are only for you,” you add. Praying, as he strokes you harder, dipping his cock in you shallowly again, that it’s enough.
“Oh my sweet,” he purrs, thrusting slowly until he fills you, the delicious length, the pressure finally making you whole, “now you’ll taste my mercy.” He laughs slowly. Darkly. “I hope you’ll last, hope you’ll take it like the good girl you want to be…”
Withdrawing, he slams into you, bottoming out at the edge of your channel. Pain. Pleasure. It’s all one. The saccharine relief of him buried and thrusting inside you finally soothing that burn you’ve had festering inside you for hours. You can’t even hold your head up anymore. You can barely keep your face high enough to breathe, letting him plunder you at his relentless pace. Gasping, twitching, bucking. You put all your remaining energy you haven’t had burned up with your desire for him into just riding his cock. Another catch on your clit, and you feel yourself hurling into orgasm. His hands hold you firmly up, even as you spasm and clench so hard around him, that length is almost forced out.
He laughs, slow and deep, setting you down, rolling you on your back as you still twitch with your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “Another four orgasms should do the trick, don’t you think, my love… enough to make you learn your lesson.”
You groan, burying your mouth into the inside of your arm to hide the noise of pleasured anguish.
Slowly, languorously, he covers you with his body, its cold weight a comfort and an arousal, especially as you feel his knee tuck under yours to spread your folds wide. The breadth of his cock sweeping along the seam of your cunt.
“Four?” You gulp, already feeling another wave of climax burgeoning between your thighs. He gives a little thrust of his length over you, and then another. The hardness of his erection sweeps over you, catching every nerve that flares on fire for more in your slick. Your arms tug on the restraints, your head thrown back to press hard into the bed. Every muscle in your legs clenches, heat and pain and pleasure tingle, bursting down every nerve.
You scream as you come again, but it’s muted, covered by his own devouring mouth. “Three,” he breathes over your tongue. “Perhaps more, if you’re extra obedient, an extra good girl.” Reaching over your head, his finger slips into the silken binds around your wrists, the fabric instantly easing. Your hands fly to embrace him, your touch running up and down his back, riding the scars that cover him, gripping into the pert swell to his ass, pulling him even harder into you. You sigh, his cock returning inside you with a gentle little thrust. “My little love,” he purrs as his hand cradles your cheek softly. “Forever mine…” he gives a slow, attentive thrust, the undulation of his hips catching right on every tingling, overstimulated sensitive nerve inside you. “You’ll come for me again, won’t you? And you’ll let me come too?”
“Yes,” you moan, tangling your tongue with his. “For you my love,” you whisper into his mouth, “for you I’ll come for eternity.”
For @marimosalad ❤️
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Read More Ascended Astarion: “The Rogue You Were”
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Read More Vampire Rogue Astarion: “Bites in the Night” series
I've been really struggling to finish writing anything over the past few months, but this idea has been consuming me ever since the copia rizzchat on twitter was discussing it. So, for your enjoyment- approximately 1500 words of Copia being a 🐱 eating fiend. If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.
Throughout the course of your relationship with him, you had come to know that there were a lot of things to love about Copia. He was an incredibly hard worker, who had earned every bit of power allowed to him by his position as Papa; and it was a role that he excelled in. He could command large crowds with ease, and there were very few at the Ministry who would not bend to his will should he decide he wanted something.
Despite this, he was still an awkward, rather silly man, constantly making you laugh at his antics. He was extremely kind hearted. He cared very deeply for those who looked to him for leadership within the Ministry. You had no doubt he would do almost anything for any of the siblings who lived at the abbey.
His love for his pet rats was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place; you had never seen anyone who treated the small creatures with the reverence he did. He was an incredible listener too; you could always tell you had his full attention whenever you spoke to him.
As a partner he was as close as a person could get to perfect, as far as you could tell. He always found ways to let you know he was thinking about you throughout his busy day, and no matter how much he had on his plate he always made a point to set aside time to spend with you.
Yes, there were plenty of reasons to love Copia. Though right now, one of those reasons had your attention more than all the others: the man was a pussy eating fiend.
At any possible opportunity he would be in between your legs drinking you down like he needed it to survive. He'd go for hours if you let him, making you cum over and over until you had nothing left to give. It was almost like he was doing it solely for his own benefit, and your pleasure was just a fortunate side effect of him taking what he wanted from you.
Today he seemed particularly desperate for you. He had been working you over for what felt like an eternity. After he gave you not one but two mind-shattering orgasms with no signs of stopping you had made the mistake of reaching down to push his head away reflexively in your overstimulated state.
Doing so had lost you the privilege of having your hands free. He had tied your hands to the headboard above you and was back between your legs, sucking on your clit as though his life depended on it.
You looked down at him as he worked his tongue around your sensitive nub. His hair was disheveled, and there was more of his papal paint smeared on your thighs than there was left on his face. While you were fully naked and vulnerable, exposed to him, he had only partially undressed; his jeans and vest had been discarded on the floor, but his shirt hung from his frame unbuttoned. He was rutting against the bed through his boxers as he ate you out, little grunts of pleasure escaping him as he worked. The sight of him like this would have been too much for you even if he wasn’t currently latched onto your overstimulated clit. You thrashed against your restraints, bucking your hips involuntarily.
"None of that, dolce," he snarled, pinning your hips to the bed with an iron grip before returning his attention to your drenched core, shoving his tongue deep into your cunt.
A pathetic, keening noise escaped you, your eyes rolling back in your head as he worked his tongue within you, his nose stimulating your clit just enough that you found yourself rapidly approaching your third orgasm of the evening.
"Oh, fuck Papa," you whimpered, the overwhelming sensations making your legs start to shake.
"That's it, tesoro, come for me again," he instructed, pulling back for a moment before returning his attention to your clit once more, sucking around the sensitive bud.
You were almost instantly thrown over the edge, your back arching and a stream of incoherent babbling escaping you as your mind went fuzzy with the overwhelming pleasure.
Copia diligently worked you through your orgasm, continuing to suck on your clit as you came down from your high. As the haze of your orgasm cleared, you came to the horrifying realization that he still wasn’t done with you yet; the feeling of his mouth against you sending bolts of sensation through you like a hot knife.
You once again thrashed helplessly against your restraints, crying out as you fruitlessly attempted to clamp your legs shut to stop his onslaught. He was having none of that though, and your efforts were met with a snarl as he wrenched your thighs open once more so he could continue.
"Papa, Papa please, please Papa" you begged him, your voice hoarse as your eyes began to well with tears. He leaned back for a moment to consider you, giving you a momentary reprieve from the burning pleasure he was giving you.
"Do you need to use your word, amore?" he asked, considering you seriously.
"No Papa," you replied, tearfully but honestly.
"Then you will give me one more," he said sternly, beginning to lightly apply pressure to your oversensitive clit with his gloved thumb. Your hips stuttered involuntarily in response, your body unsure if it wanted to move closer or further away from his ministrations.
"I don't know if I can Papa," you whimpered, practically panting at this point.
"You want to be good for me, yes? You want to please me?"
"Yes Papa."
"Then you will do as you are told," he demanded harshly, leaning in to lick you with a flat tongue.
You whined in response, but didn't argue the issue any further, trying with all your might to relax into the sensation of his tongue laving over you. He continued lapping at you in broad strokes. Normally this would only serve to tease you, but in your current state even that was almost too much, you had to fight to keep yourself still for him. Your efforts did not go unnoticed.
"You're being so good tesoro," Copia praised you inbetween licks. His praise reignited something within you, and you could feel something begin to build slowly in your core.
"Oh, Papa," you whined, fully overwhelmed. "It's so much."
"Shhh, I know, dolce. Don't worry, Papa is going to help you," he said in mock sympathy. He brought two of his gloved fingers up to your opening, easily sliding them up within you. You cried out, clenching around the intrusion as he began to slowly pump them in and out fluidly, grazing your sweet spot each time.
As he returned to lapping gently at your overstimulated clit, he gradually began to increase the speed at which he worked his fingers in and out of you. Very suddenly, you felt as though you were right back on the edge; the burning, gentle lapping of his tongue against your clit and his talented fingers repeatedly brushing up against that spot inside you proving to be just what you needed to get there.
"Are you going to come for me now, dolce?" he asked, already knowing the answer..
"Yes, Papa, yes," you practically sobbed.
"Good, you're doing so good. Let go," he encouraged in a low, soothing voice.
You didn't fall off the edge so much as you were yanked over, set fully adrift by the burning pleasure that ran through your full body as you clenched around his fingers.
As you came back down to Earth you were vaguely aware of Copia releasing a shuddering moan against you; he had come against the bed from how he rutted against it as he had tormented you. You let out a weak whine at this realization.
Copia only took a moment for himself to recover before he was crawling up the bed, reaching over you to release your wrists from their restraints. You let your arms flop back against the bed, feeling boneless after how he had worked you over.
"You did so well for me my dear, so very good," he praised, brushing a stray hair back behind your ear. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you hummed a happy sound into the kiss.
As he pulled back, breaking the kiss, a small smile graced his expression, his eyes shone with adoration as he studied you for a moment.
"How do you feel, amore?" he asked.
"So good. And so tired," you mumbled, a sleepy grin plastered to your face.
"Is there anything you need, tesoro? Anything I can get you?"
In lieu of a verbal response you reached for him with grabby hands. He quickly got the hint, moving to lay beside you with an arm raised in offering. You wasted no time in snuggling up to him, burying your face in his chest as he brought his arm down around you to hold you. You drifted to sleep in his arms, feeling sated, happy, and safe.
AU where You and Gyomei start an orphanage for the kids who had parents serving in the Demon Slayer corps but didn't survive. They both balance hashira duties and caring for these kids, with the help of the kakushi on days when they can't always give the children their undivided attention. Most of the children are under the age of three, so they are often heard calling You and Gyomei "mama" and "papa".
You and Gyomei dragging Genya along for "training" and it's really just to have him play with the kids. By the end of the day they are calling him "brother" to the best of their abilities. Some of the real young kids just call him "buba" which has you laughing every time.
Most hashira, save for Obanai, make their way to the orphanage at least once or twice a week. Yes, that's right, even Sanemi and Giyu. Obanai on the other hand will only come when he's free and knows Mitsuri will be there (the kids love Kaburamaru).
Even Tanjiro and Nezuko come by often, sometimes Inosuke is with them, Zenitsu only goes for Nezuko because he can't stand kids. Kanao often visits with Aoi or Shinobu. But sometimes she'll be the one to accompany Kiyo, Sumi and Naho. The Ubuyashiki family is there all the time as well. The children adore Kagaya and Amane.
One thing is persistent though, no matter how often the children see the other hashira, see the kamaboko squad, even the kakushi that are usually with them 24/7... They still only refer to You and Gyomei as "mama and papa" ... Which starts to create some tension between the two of you. Gyomei doesn't mind being called "papa" but he finds it very endearing to hear how you giggle when they call you "mama"
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