Discovered This Photoshoot Of Kate Siegel As Viola Willoughby And Felt The Need To Share

NPC idea: Wealthy dragon entrepreneur

everyone is talking about the sub dm prompt but i need everyone to know this will stick with me forever

i can’t stop watching it

↳ Critical Role + The Onion headlines

Neuman’s Guard Dog (3/3)

summary: no better way to unwind after committing murder than getting absolutely destroyed by your morally grey girlfriend <3 god i wish that were me (minus the murder)

warnings: SMUT, fingering(r receiving), blood play (one small instance), fully clothed(victoria) x completely nude(r), fingering from behind, top Vic, alcohol ment. (red wine), proposal ment. , overstim, ment. of suicide (nothing serious), you could consider it angst if you feel so inclined, GENERAL ‘THE BOYS’ disclaimer

before you read: Reader is aware of Vic's blood powers. NOT aware of Vic's head explosions (ex. congress attack), relationship to Stan Edgar, The Boys (especially Hughie being involved). Sameer and Zoe do not exist in any of my AUs. Reader has been in life-threatening situations before, not a fan of them, but has been in at least two before.

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A storm rages outside, its howling wind puts you on edge — something deep inside you stirs. Victoria senses your newly tensed state and rubs your shoulders.

“Why don’t I go get us some celebratory wine?” she chimes.

She takes your grin back at her as a ‘yes’ and starts downstairs. You stand and strip, the nightwear Victoria provided you is comfortable but it isn’t yours. The garments carry the weight of your temporary prison, a place you long to forget. You fold and set them on the dresser. Your girlfriend returns before you can open your pajama drawer.

Victoria stalks into the room, eyeing your nude body. She slinks up behind you and places an empty wine glass into your hand, you let out a sigh of satisfaction and lean back into her.

“Well now this is unfair,” you tease, “This is the second time today I’ve been completely naked while you’ve been in that damn suit.”

Victoria wraps her arms around your waist, one hand holds her own empty glass while the other holds the bottle of wine. She coos a fake apology into your ear. The scent of red wine lingers on her breath, you scoff and tap your empty cup.

“Double unfair!” you taunt.

Victoria laughs and raises the bottle to pour, you can’t see the roguish grin she wears behind you. She jerks her arm and the bottle tips, a stream of red wine splashes onto your chest and drizzles its way down your body. You gasp out and push her back jokingly.

“Oh! You so did that on purpose!” you accuse.

She laughs and sets the glass and bottle of the dresser before guiding you back against it.

“I did—“ she purrs, “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.”

Victoria trails kisses from your collarbone to chest. She drags her tongue down the trail of wine. She kneels and places soft kisses at your stomach, leaving a smattering of lip prints as she makes her way down to your thighs. Vic laps at the wine droplets that have pooled on your inner thigh. Her licks and suckles are planned and precise, she’s toying with you. You bite down on your index finger, trying to compose yourself against her incessant teasing. Though, you’ve forgotten about your newly sharpened canines; a fang pricks the tip of your finger and a small droplet of blood starts to form.

“Ah-“ you wince and retreat back to your beside table to grab a tissue.

Victoria studies you curiously, she watches as a few drops dribble onto your palm. Slowly, she lurks beside you; practically purring in your ear as she raises your hand up to her lips. She licks across your palm before encasing your finger into her mouth, sucking on the wounded digit.

You gasp and an exhilarated chill runs through you. Her deep brown eyes meet yours as she pulls away. The corners of your mouth furl upward in astonishment.

“Fuck, Vicky….” you whimper.

“You know what’s unfair? Every part of you tastes so fucking good,” Victoria coos as she bends you down against the bed.

Her fingers rub in between your slightly spread legs. She mumbles praises under her breath as she watches how your body reacts. A moan of approval falls from her mouth when she pulls her fingers away, a sticky trail connects them to your core. Firm slaps against your ass causes pathetic sobs to spill from you. This display causes Victoria to purse her lips together in attempt to stifle a whimper. You feel her start to rub furiously at your clit. She slides two slender fingers into your sopping cunt and pumps with the same fervor from before.

You grab fistfuls of the bedsheet and bite down softly on your hand as Victoria fingers you from behind. Your attempts to self-control don’t go unnoticed.

“Awh, I don’t think so baby, don’t hide those pretty sounds — Hands behind your back” Victoria orders.

You obey and instantly Victoria locks your wrist together with her free hand. This position leaves you lying head first into the bed, your face is wet with your own tears and drool — Victoria wishes she could frame this view in her mind.

“Fuck-“ Victoria lays against you, pinning you down onto the bed. “You’re such a good girl,” she pants, “All mine.”

“Y-yes, yours… A-All yours! ” you stammer, “H-Hah… Fuck…”

Your brain feels fuzzy, like the static buzzing off of an old tv. Your body tremors, you’re about to reach your limit and all you can do is mewl and listen to Victoria’s moans flood your mind. She presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek and slides her free hand against your throat. She urges you to let go. You cry and spill into her palm, coating her fingers.

She rides out your high, relishing every twitch and whimper you produce. She smacks your cunt a few times, the wet slaps leave you in a trembling heap. The pathetic noises you make turn into choked croaks and she finally relents. You try to steady yourself, but your legs aren’t quite ready to support you yet. Victoria sprawls out on the bed, pulling you close to her, she has a thin layer of sweat on her forehead but the rest of her remains pristine. You’re a mess — Victoria strokes your hair and kisses your forehead anyways.

“You’re perfect,” she hums. “My perfect girl.”

Her fingers trail up and down your body. She takes in your figure and drowns in your half-lidded eyes. You look so fragile, sickeningly sweet.

“I really mean it,” she affirms, “If anyone hurts you, I’ll fucking kill them.” Her grip on you tightens slightly.

The statement reminds you of the incident at the hotel room. Your stomach stirs uncomfortably and you play with the hem of Victoria’s suit. You try and muster up the courage to speak your next words aloud.

“Hughie knows…” you trail off, “He saw me.” An imaginary news article flashes in your mind.

‘CIA Affiliate, Hughie Campbell, Found Dead

Suicide by two gunshots in the back of the head…’

The thought of your old friend being murdered by your girlfriend makes the hair on the back of your neck stand. Victoria still hasn’t responded.

“He helped me,” you blurt.

Anger boils in Victoria’s chest, she should have been the one to save you. She imagines the state he might have found you in and seethes. Would he use you against her? Expose your new power to the world to get back at her? He wouldn’t. Right?

“Vicky?” you whisper.

“He’s a good guy.” She states, “He wouldn’t do anything to harm you.”

“What about you?” you ask.

“You worry about me too much,” she teases.

She kisses you, mostly to get your mind off the topic at hand. She feels you start to melt into her, then she feels you fight against it. Her nails dig a little too hard into the flesh of your hips and you pull away from the kiss. She doesn’t acknowledge her roughness, instead she rises and pulls you up.

“We should really go to sleep,” she chides. “I’d like to get some sleep before the insanity of tomorrow…”

You nod and yawn, seemingly reminded of how tired you really are.

-

You grab a set of silk pajamas and head to the bathroom to do your nightly routine. Victoria follows suit. She opens her dresser drawer and grabs a nightgown; a small, sleek box stares back at her. It holds the engagement ring she’s bought for you, the black velvet void of the box calls to her — Do it, before it’s too late. She closes the drawer quickly and takes a deep breath before joining you in the bathroom.

Victoria will propose. She’ll tell the world about you; you deserve that. There are so many dirty secrets and she doesn’t want you to be one of them.

You fall asleep spooning her, your soft breath tickles her neck and lures her closer to slumber. But, there is an unrelenting, festering feeling in her stomach that won’t let her sleep. Her web of lies is caving in on itself and you’re tangled up in the middle. She reminds herself you are not hopeless prey curled up next to its killer; she will protect you.

The bloodied hotel room flashes in her mind — a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Her hand rests upon yours and she strokes the bare ring finger. Do it, before it’s too late.

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authors note: omg it’s 5am and i finished this.. one very sleepy read through later… i’ll do a more focused clean up when i awaken. anyways i will be writing a sappy proposal fic me thinks… but im on a queen maeve kick rn so that’ll come later… PLS SUGGEST THINGS FOR ME TO WRITE in my ask box!! <3

fuel my writing -> tips or reblog,like,comment!

Emoji spell for extreme good luck for the next two months

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Likes charge. Reblogs CAST

"Ebenezer Scrooge learns the true meaning of Bisexual Awareness Week"

me: *scares myself to the point where I can’t even function because of the anxiety I have created over a situation*

the situation: *works out fine*

me: oh

feeling so many feelings about all of this

MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT ★ camille l'espanaye

camille l’espanaye x femCEO!reader

again, you find yourself seated across from camille on a quiet night, and this time your flirting has real consequences

warnings: nothing really, it’s all sfw just some sexual suggestions

word count: 2440

note: this takes place before the court case and everything starts

also the ending is kinda rushed bc i just wanted to finish it sorry

the two regally dressed doormen opened each side of the gigantic glass doors, allowing your entry into the restaurant. famously known as the most elegant restaurant in all of new york city, it was unusually empty on this saturday night.  all of the tables were barren except one against the far glass wall.

it was a table for two, already prepped with the proper silverware and two full glasses of wine.  the table’s occupant didn’t spare you a glance as you took your time sauntering over to her.  you knew she must be able to hear the loud clicking of your heels against the marble floor, especially among the off-putting silence, but her eyes were fixed on the sights of the city behind the glass wall.  located on the top floor of a skyscraper, the entire skyline was visible through the glass walls of the restaurant.  it was an especially astounding sight in the dark hours of the night when the city glowed brighter than the stars in the sky.

only when you placed a perfectly manicured hand over the cream tablecloth did she turn her head to look at you.

“and for a second i thought he might actually show up,” you said, still standing over her.  you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.  “i should’ve known better.”

one of the waiters seemingly appeared out of nowhere to pull your chair out for you.  you gave him a smile and your thanks before you took your seat and he disappeared into oblivion.

“roderick always has to send one of the minions to do his bidding,” you said, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in your chair.

“please, my father has much better things to do than deal with your antics,” camille said, reaching for her wine glass.  her gaze was as sturdy as you remembered.

“and you don’t?”

“apparently not,” she said before taking a sip.  “but you should thank me actually because he could’ve sent froderick instead.”

“you’re right, what a bore” you said.  you suddenly leaned forward and rested your elbows on the tabletop. you pushed yourself so close to her that your chin hovered just above the candle in the center of the table.  your face was illuminated so desirably by the light that camille wouldn’t have dreamt of taking her eyes off of you.  “thank you, camille,” you said, almost in a whisper.  the silkiness of your voice and the slight pout of your lips tempted and teased her.  she knew exactly what you were doing yet you were still undeniably persuasive.

it wasn’t until you abruptly returned to your original position that she was pulled out of your trance.

“you're welcome,” she said plainly, adjusting herself in her seat.

the server brought over two identical hors d'oeuvres before scurrying back to the kitchen.

“but i’d like to think you enjoy my antics.  you must like me a little if you keep agreeing to this,” you said with a knowing smile.

“i’m only here because the rest of my siblings are too incompetent to do…well, anything really,” she said, disinterestedly poking at the food with her fork.

“don’t lie to me.  no one—not even your father—tells you what to do.  you’re here because you want to be.  and because you like me, don’t you?”

camille looked up from her food only to glare at you through hooded eyes.  she hated your smug little smile and the way it made her feel.

“aww, come on, say it.  say you like me.  make me feel good,” you said, placing your hands over your chest.

as much as she would deny it, a little part of her brain wondered how good she could make you feel.  especially when you looked as good as you did, all dolled up for her in that red dress.  her eyes followed your hands which laid just above the hem.  it was only then that she realized you had worn the same dress for your vanity fair cover last month.  oh to be a fly on the wall during that shoot.

“i didn’t think a woman like you would need so much validation,” camille said, finally taking a bite.  “but look at you being a pathetic little praise pony.”

maybe you were going crazy but you could’ve sworn you saw a smile itching at her lips.  and that made you smile.

“i only want praise from you.”

she looked back up at you and you pursed your lips in an exaggerated pout.  if only she knew how serious you were.

“well, you won’t be getting any.  not tonight, at least,” she said.

your eyebrows jumped at that last part, intrigued by her suggestion.

“are you implying-”

“i’m not implying anything,” she quickly interrupted, predicting your every move.  “are you?”

“depends.”  you reached for your wine glass and took a long, thoughtful sip as you basked in the moment of silence you had created.  you ignored camille’s expectant stare for you to finish your thought and let her sit with the possibilities of what you meant.

“i mean, you take me out on these expensive dinner dates, rent out restaurants for me, and expect me not to feel special?  you do this for all of your girls?”

she scoffed at you.  your attitude would be irritating if you were any other person.

“you flatter yourself too much,” she said, leaning forward.  “if i wanted you, i would already have you,” she said with a self-assured nod and a tight, smug smile.  typically that assertive tone left no room for argument, no matter how true or untrue her statement was.  but that was never the case with you.

“oh, don’t lie to me, camille,” you said, leaning in to match her posture.  “i know you’re like your father: intimidated by powerful women.”

camille’s eyebrows shot up, surprised by your sheer audacity, but her eyes and smile still held an element of amusement.  not often was she curious—because in most situations she already knew too much—but the cunning look in your eyes pushed her toward that unfamiliar feeling.

“what else do you think you know about me?” she said, placing her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand as if she had all day.

“oh, just the regular things.  i know that you’re lucky number five,” you said, holding up and wiggling five fingers.  “i know that you and frederick are the only ones who are staying in the family business.  i know…that you’re bright and very good at what you do.”

she was barely listening, lost in your face and your hypnotizing eyes that never strayed from hers.  your words were blending together in her head, turning her brain to mush as she silently admired you in your natural state.  

it was your power that had intoxicated her.  not necessarily your business status or bank account, but the way you carried yourself.  the two of you were alike in that way.

“and that’s why it’s strange that he’s next in line for CEO while you’re slaving away in the basement being daddy’s sock puppet.”

that statement sobered her up quick.  you knew you struck a nerve when her brows pulled down and her eyes narrowed.  she wasn’t hard to offend.

“god, i can’t believe saffron hasn’t crashed and burned because clearly you don’t know a damn thing about business,” she spat, teeth showing and venom oozing from her lips.  “fortunato wouldn’t be a thing if it wasn’t for me cleaning up everyone’s load of dogshit.  you don’t even know how much dumb fuckery i have to deal with; my father—my entire family owes me.”

“relax, camille,” you said in your smooth tone, unphased by her aggression, your lips daring to quirk into a smile.  “that’s exactly what i’m saying; they don’t give you enough credit for what you do.”

suddenly camille was a bit lost as she was unable to figure out what your angle was.  you now sounded so genuine that it was off putting.  she had been so used to your play-fighting and exaggerated lust that she almost didn’t know how to take a real compliment from you.  almost.

“thank you,” she said, pushing her back over her shoulder and averting her eyes toward the window.  she was slightly embarrassed by her unwarranted, short-lived blow-up but made her best attempt to play if off.

“i mean, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand that your brother’s a flamboyant idiot.  i mean, i think i actually lose brain cells when he opens his mouth,” you said, smiling to yourself.  “but, even if you’re playing for the other team, i can admit that you’re impressive.  you’ve made yourself indispensable to fortunato.  you’re twice the man he’ll ever be.”

camille tried to restrain herself but a smile spilled onto her lips. it ranked among the top compliments she had ever received.  half because she knew it was true and the other half simply because it was coming from you.

your heart jumped, her rare show of warmth encouraging you to continue.

“i mean, just think about all that you could do if only you were given the means.  anywhere you are is already a force to be reckoned with, but with you at the top of the ladder, fortunato would be impenetrable.”

“cut the crap,” camille said, remnants of a smile still playing on her lips.  “what are you actually trying to say?”

she analyzed every twitch of your expression for a hint.

“what? i can’t just admire you?” you asked, tilting your head to the size and studying her as if she was a prized work of art.

she was a work of art.

she licked her lips, enjoying your adoring gaze.

“save it for the bedroom, y/n,” she said so casually, clasping her hands on the table.  your stomach churned at the thought, your mind drifting.  “i’m the one who called you here but you talk like there’s something on your mind.”

“just you.  always you, actually,” you said.  your smile was smaller and more thoughtful this time.

you had assumed that, with the court case looming, camille had come to broker a deal with you.  as the CEO of a competing pharma company that was in good standing with the public, fortunato could greatly improve their image and reliability by partnering with your company, saffron.  it was an obvious move, one you had predicted months before.  you had just been waiting for the ushers to finally approach you.  and in that time, you had developed a risky counterattack.

she was silent, her eyebrows raised and her lips pressed together, attempting to coax a response out of you.  you breathed deeply and then you gave her what she wanted.

“maybe your father doesn’t appreciate you, but i would appreciate you so much.”

your emphasis was telling.  you would never directly say what you meant but camille always understood.  though there was a hint of something else lacing your strong voice this time.  something not entirely sensual.

“appreciate?  now what could you possibly mean by that?”  she asked, wondering if your promise was simply flirtatious or if there was a deeper meaning behind it.

you chuckled and then you sighed, chastising her lack of deduction with the shake of your head.  your fingers danced across the tablecloth like a spider crawling toward camille.

“you really can’t take a hint, can you?”

she rolled her eyes at your rebuke.  meanwhile you leaned toward her, bracing yourself with your elbows on the table.

“you need to leave your father.  and then i’ll make you mine,” you said.  she was about to laugh but then she noticed your gaze.  it was uncharacteristically straight and serious.  that’s what made her realize that you weren’t joking.

 “i mean that, if you leave fortunato, there will be a spot waiting for you at saffron.  and i can guarantee you that it’s a much higher one than you currently hold.  how does president sound?  maybe even COO if you can charm the board.”

she immediately scoffed at you.

“you’re out of your goddamn mind, you know that?” she said, appalled by your request.  still, it was a better reaction than you were expecting.  “i…wh-what about the will, huh?  i’d just betray my entire family and get cut off?”

“well, first of all, we both know you couldn’t give a single fuck about your ‘family’.  it’s not like they raised you. and as for the will, it won’t matter in the end.  you’ll be making more than all of your siblings combined working under me.”  you subtly flashed her the diamonds on your fingers as proof.  “ten or twenty million more won’t even make a dent in your back account.  you’ll be the richest woman in the world. and do you know why?”

you stuck your chin up at her and smiled fully.  she watched anxiously as the long expanse of your neck revealed itself to her and your eyelashes fluttered majestically.

“because you’ll have me.  all to yourself.”

camille’s chin lowered, looking up at you through her own eyelashes as if to question the validity of your statement.  you nodded reassuringly.

“what are you waiting for?  i mean, fortunato is only on the decline.  it’s time to do something good for once and jump ship,” you said.

you paused, noticing the hesitation behind her blue eyes.  it seemed that she was actually considering your proposal.  so you decided to lay the seduction on heavy.

“there’s nothing left for you at fortunato.  but everything you could have is sitting right here,” you said, confidently motioning toward yourself.  “i mean, come on, baby, look at this face and tell me you don’t want it, this body,” you said, smoothing out your dress.

the wrinkle in her brow and the slight gap between her lips was telling. that distant yet focused look in her eye told you that daydreams were whisking her off to far away places.  she was imagining what her alternate life would be like, what it would feel like, what you would feel like. she was clearly conflicted.

“well, i’ll give you some time to think about,” you said, abruptly standing up from your chair.  she didn’t protest as you picked up your half full wine glass.  “in the meantime, don’t be a stranger,” you said, leaving her with a final smug smile.

you intentionally swayed your hips as you retreated from the restaurant, taking your wine to-go, reminding her that she would be stupid not to take you up on your offer.

“until we meet again.”