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#and if i need to spin it as not being able to get the time off
angelanderson · 2 days
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give you what you need
— w. maximoff ☆ her girl au
with only one thing that could fix your morning, both you and wanda are desperate. you know your mommy will usually give you what you want… you just have to ask.
first extra for the her girl series!!I while wanda does have mostly unmentioned powers still, it is very much an au. all fluff (this time) MINORS DNI. cw: inherently unhealthy dynamics due to the nature of this series, finger sucking, mention of (past) spanking, soft dark mommy!wanda. mostly comfort!!!! edited-ish. *not an ageplay series*
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tapping her freshly manicured nails on the counter, wanda watches you like a hawk as you contemplate your next move. the witch has been dreading your impending meltdown since she woke up her grumpy girl this morning. it took a promise of blueberry pancakes for breakfast for you to verbalize that your issue was a poor night’s worth of sleep. unfortunately for the older woman, pancakes didn’t bring up your mood, nor did an offering of a relaxing bubble bath, one of your favorite times things.
tears threaten to spill down your checks as you try to soothe yourself. no longer wanting to sit by wanda, you’ve found the cool kitchen tiles to be more appealing. usually, you always want your mommy, especially when you’re upset, but the sheer exhaustion you feel has you acting out. no amount of appealing offers from the woman has been enough to placid you.
wanda gives it five more minutes before she steps in again; she can’t bear to see you like this. she approaches you as if you’re some wild animal that’s afraid. “dorogaya, why don’t you come with mommy, hmm? let’s fix those tears”, her voice comes out sweet as honey.
you’ve been so stubborn all morning, but the way wanda is looking at you is making your façade slowly slip. worrying at your bottom lip, you weigh your options— you know from past experience that she is not afraid to make you give in. thirty more seconds pass before you make your way into her arms, giving into her. you can faintly here her whisper how you’re a good girl as your shove your face into her shoulder.
as wanda tries to coax you out of her shoulder, she notices that you’ve shoved some of your fingers past your lips. since the day you met, even in your previous life as equals in a relationship, she has been trying to break you of the habit. “oh dove, what has mommy said about sucking on your fingers?”
“that ‘m not supposed to,” you messily say as you continue to refuse to remove them from your mouth. ever since you could remember, which was not much now, you’ve found comfort in self-soothing by having something in your mouth.
tsking, the witch gently coaxes your fingers out of your mouth. she ignores the cry you let out— how could she be a good mommy if she wasn’t consistent with you? she doesn’t let you pitch the fit she knows is coming. “dorogaya, come upstairs now. maybe mommy will let you get cozy in her bed, hmm?” even with sweetness, her tone leaves no room for argument.
it’s rare for her to go against her usual protocols; it’s how she keeps you in check. unbeknownst to you, wanda is willing to give into what she knows you secretly want if there’s a chance it’ll change your mood. when you’re grumpy, you’re grumpy. however, the almost promise of being able to nap in wanda’s room has your brain spinning enough that you don’t argue as she leads you to the stairs. so busy reeling with excitement, you don’t hear her sighs of relief as you two walk up together.
wanting to show your mommy that you can be her good girl again, you wait by her bedroom door, albeit antsy as you wait for her to catch up. you have quickly learned to mind not entering her bedroom or study without explicit permission. it only took two spankings that ended in loud cries to cement the rule in your brain. wanda clearly notices your commitment to her rules as she reaches the top. proudness fills her chest as she realizes how far you’ve both come from the start of this new life.
the soft smile gracing her lips has you like putty in her hands— you love nothing more than pleasing her. you eagerly let her guide you into her bedroom. you don’t pay much mind as she finds some new clothes for you to wear; she has a rule against dirty clothes in bed. while you haven’t been outside to play yet, your pajama top is tear stained and has a dash of dried pancake batter. you decide on the white chair in the corner as your place to perch until she’s ready for you.
too into your own world, your fingers find their way back into your mouth. your sudden push back into reality is caused by wanda’s grip on your wrist. your head snaps up to meet wanda’s cocked eyebrow; she’s not amused. while you let wanda remove your hand, you still let out a pitiful whine to let her know you’re not happy. wanda chooses to acknowledge it this time.
“less whining, milaya”, she scolds you. her hand reaches up getting ready to pull your top off. instead of letting wanda change your top, you impulsively slap her hand away.
you regret the second your hand makes contact with her hand. a red glow fills her eyes before you can even think about stuttering out an apology. as soon as the glow consumed her, it ends. a feat that has you feeling emotional whipslash. she beats you at another chance to speak first.
“mommy knows you’re only acting out because you’re tired, isn’t that right, milaya?” her grip tightens on your wrist as she speaks lowkey, “so mommy knows that you’re going to act right starting now. isn’t that right?”
that’s when it hits you: you’ve pushed wanda over the edge today. you know just how mean your mommy can be when you don’t listen. you immediately agree with her, “‘m really sorry! promise it!” to prove your point, your arms reach over your shoulders to quickly take off your shirt. wanda’s hum of approval lets you know you’re back in the clear… for now.
you let wanda change you like a doll after that— you’ll do anything to avoid the red glow from coming back. lucky for you, she grabbed the sweater you always nuzzle your face into when she wears it. it’s another not-so-noticeable way she’s helping keep you manageable this late morning. the soft texture keeps you like putty in her hands as she lays you down in her cloud-like bed. you’ve always been a sucker for soft things.
“my sweet girl, doing so good for me now,” the older woman coos out. feeling the bed dip, you move over some so she can rest with you. your haze filled mind has you reeling in the extra praise. when you don’t reply, wanda gets the hint about how floaty you’re feeling, “okay milaya, let’s rest now, hmm? mommy’s here with you.”
you nuzzle your way into her arms, letting her know you’re in agreement with her. you stay that way for a solid five minutes as she rubs your back in gentle circles. the sixth minute is when your need for a specific comfort comes back. you look back and forth between wanda and your fingers. so shyly, you finally speak up, “…mommy? um, i want some fingers?” you add on, “please!”
wanda doesn’t understand at first. she isn’t sure why you’d be horny right now— you never are after being reprimanded where her red glow comes out. she sighs, “not right now. maybe mommy’ll fuck you later tonight if you can be good for me.”
the look on your face let’s her know that is not what you meant. it takes all but two more seconds for it to click: you want something back in your mouth. wanda knows the tears that would come had she said no. the reprimanding is silly anyways, she thinks. while your oral fixation is only a newer appearance, she’s sure it can’t hurt for now. she would much rather save her energy for when truly you’re acting out, anyways. so she agrees, “yes, you may. such a silly rule anyways, hmm? you’re being my good girl.”
the praise has you craving something different: her fingers. it’s not something you’ve shown interest in before. but in your hazy state nothing sounds more comforting. what’s not to like? it’s attention for your mommy and a fix to your need.
the haziness makes it hard for the words to spill out of your lips. the mix of frustration over it and exhaustion have you teetering towards irritation again. wanda can see it in the way you scrunch up your face. always your savior, she steps in. “hush, dove. take a deep breath and try again.”
“i, um— i want your fingers. please!” you rush the words out so quickly that wanda almost doesn’t catch it. you’re still getting used to asking for what you what without being shy about it. while she typically would make you slow down, she can’t deny you any longer.
“well, since you said please”, she teases you. she mentally rolls her eyes at the huff you let out at her teasing.
you don’t have any time to make a quick remark back as two manicured fingers find their way to your bottom lip, slowing tracing it. a full drowsiness takes over your body. you quickly part your lips, welcoming her to stop the teasing. luckily, she gets your hint as she lets her fingers past your cherry lips. a wave of comfort comes over you as you wrap your lips around her fingers.
every sucking motion has you falling deeper and deeper into your cozy headspace. the exhaustion no longer feels world ending; it’s less overwhelming now. the comfort you’ve been craving all morning has finally found its way to you. everything she gives you just makes you feel so good!
being the good girl you are, you decide it’s only polite to thank her. after all, wanda does like it best when you mind your manners. “thank you ‘ommy”, you try to thank her, but the words come out messy due to the fingers in your mouth.
“don’t talk with things in your mouth. it’s not polite,” even with you being sweet, she just can’t help but tease you. she giggles when you whine in response. “okay, okay. i’m sorry, baby. let’s get you to sleep now, hmm?”
she sushes your whine, instead going to play with your hair the way she knows you like. wanda internally cheers as your eyes start to flutter shut. the grip of your lips on her fingers starts to loosen as the next few minutes go on. she can’t get herself to start her other tasks when you just look so adorable for her. she allows herself to stay until your breathing has completely evened.
had you been awake, you would see a flurry of red hair moving as slow as possible in order to not wake you. she can’t help but sneak a kiss on your forehead before she leaves her bedroom in order to go to pick some of the fresh fruit you’re obsessed with from the garden as a snack for later. a whisper fills the air as she slowly closes the door behind her, “silly girl, you just have to ask. you know mommy likes to give you what you want when you’re behaving.”
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𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐛 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ notes: lars content yay! as far as i can tell, i'm one of the few to do anything on him, so i hope there's more than ten people out there interested in him
↳ warnings: none
↳ song: she blinded me with science—thomas dolby
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• This guy is a snacker
• Take one look at him. You can't tell me that he doesn't constantly skip out on meals in favor of research, usually just pulling a granola bar or stained tupperware from his desk drawer to eat while he works
• Don't get me wrong, Lars can still devour a good bit of food. Sometimes you like to make fun of him for how much good he'll get on his face in the process
• "You're looking at me weird." He frowned at you one day from behind the rims of his glasses
• "Uh, yeah. Wonder why." You grin with mild surprise, watching as leftover rice and beans from the burrito in his hands stuck to the corners of his mouth like glue. He was quick to wipe it all off, ignoring you as you laughed at him
• Aside from that, Lars usually keeps his workplace pretty clean. It's cluttered, sure, but you don't think you've ever seen him wonder where something went. He just always knew where things were. It was like he had a system in his head, and the more you thought about it, the more you decided he definitely did
• The one time someone had even tried to clean his place up, you watched as he immediately jumped in, convincing them that they were needed elsewhere and sending them off before they could mess with his set-up
• Often times, when it's just the two of you alone in the offsight lab, you'll bounce a tennis ball off the wall while Lars types away, only ever looking up to squint at you when the ball gets to close to his head
• "You should really give that to the possesor. I'm sure it'd appreciate it." He hums to you at one point while spinning around in his chair to reach something. Behind you, you hear the unmistakable sound of a metal chair tapping excitedly on glass, and you make a tsking noise
• "Pretty sure you just want me to stop distracting you with my awesome skills." You boast, attempting to do a trickshot only to smack Lars in the back. He glares at you, and you inch backward with a nervous chuckle
• "You know what, I think I'll give it to the possesor."
• "What a brilliant idea." Lars says monotonely. You were quick to get rid of the ball
• He hums while he works!
• It's not anything discernable. In fact, most of the time he isn't even singing real songs. Just little tunes he'll make up on the spot for himself; often as a way to pass the time and make minute tasks fly by
• You notice it quite a lot, but don't really say anything. It's quite entertaining, if you're being truthful
• "Sittin' and waitin' for food. Sittin' and waitin' for food.." He'd improvised once while waiting yet again for a t.v dinner of his to finish its cycle in the labs shared microwave
• "Wow Lars. Voice of an angel, you have."
• "Stuff it."
• Lars doesn't often need help with his work, there's a reason he landed the job after all, but when he does, you're always the first person he goes to. It's a side effect of having spent so much time with you at work, and even outside of it—if you counted lunch breaks and independent experiments as a non-work environment
• He likes being able to get a fresh set of eyes on whatever's stumping him, and it usually doesn't take long for the two of you to work around whatever was holding him up
• Overall, you couldn't think of a better friend/co-worker to have, and the same applies for Lars. Your relationship will only strengthen as time goes on, even withstanding the bizzar experiences that Garraka eventually brings later that year
• But that's for much later. Right now, the two of you are content to sit in the aquarium-turned-headquarters, watching as the hours ticked by without a care in the world
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A while ago, I commissioned the wonderful and talented @nae812 to draw a scene from my YOI novelisation Can You Hear My Heartbeat. The scene is part of the Tanabata* chapter, set during the summer of mutual pining, and I'm very proud to share the absolutely gorgeous result with you:
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Posted with permission from the artist because commission conditions and stuff. Do not repost.
They fell silent, watching the stars. But Yuuri’s heart refused to be still.
“O-hoshi-sama,” Viktor murmured, gazing at the sky. “I get it now. How can you look at the universe spinning in the sky and simply call them hoshi?”
Yuuri smiled. “Yeah. The stars are that majestic.”
“I like it. This is the most beautiful night of my life so far, Yuuri. Not even the White Nights can compare to this.”
The warm, reverent nuance in his voice made Yuuri tremble. This night, this place—it created a closeness he had never felt before with Viktor. As if a bridge had emerged from the sea of stars between them.
“Um, Viktor. There’s something you should know.”
“Huh?”
“There’s an even larger Tanabata festival held in Fukuoka.” The words welled out of Yuuri, encouraged by the darkness engulfing them and because they were not facing each other. “It’s because they have a huge Tanabata shrine there. I… I didn’t suggest it because you wanted to see the fireworks, but we wouldn’t have been able to stay that late because we’d need to catch the last train back. And I didn’t want to take the van because I wasn’t sure if I’d want to drink and I also don’t like to drive at night.” And because it would have been a date then. “My apologies.”
“No, Yuuri,” Viktor said softly. “I’m glad we stayed here. Fukuoka is likely overcrowded tonight and I don’t want to do that to Makkachin. Besides, here we have a better view of the stars because of less—how did you call it?”
“Light pollution.”
“Right.” Viktor’s voice was warm in the night as if he was smiling. “Thanks for introducing me to this festival, Yuuri.”
Yuuri thought back to the wish he had written on the red tanzaku. I wish that I’ll figure out my feelings for Viktor. I wish it to be love.
“I’m glad we came here, too.”
A reddish shine illuminated the lookout, followed by a cracking noise that ruptured the silence. “The fireworks have started!” Yuuri said. “Let’s watch!”
They hurried to a spot where the trees parted. Orange sparks rose into the sky and blossomed into colourful stars, illuminating rooftops and the people cramming on the beach and along the bridges, glittering on the bay. A sudden giddiness rose in Yuuri.
“When I was younger, I often imagined what it would be like to celebrate Tanabata with you,” he said. Each year, he had written a wish for it and hung it on a tree. “I didn’t ask you because I didn’t know how to do it without things taking a weird turn.”
“Really?” Viktor’s voice was hushed with an undercurrent of excitement.
Yuuri nodded. “The last weeks were very nice. I would have hated to ruin that.”
A hand touched Yuuri’s shoulder, stirring a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. “I enjoy our time together very much, too.”
“Yeah,” Yuuri said. His heart fluttered.  
They fell silent, watching the colourful sparks blossoming above the town, mirrored on the silent river. The hand remained on his shoulder and Yuuri found he liked it being there.
“Yuuri?”
“Hum?”
“Will you tell me what you wished for?”
“No, Viktor.”
“I’ll tell you what I wished for in return.”
“It won’t come true when you say it aloud.”
“But if a wish isn’t voiced no one will know and they won’t do anything about it.”
“The gods will.”
If I were already sure of my feelings, this would have been the perfect date, Yuuri mused.
“Will you tell me your wish when it comes true?”
You will know when it comes true, Yuuri thought, struggling to tame the tempest of emotions raging within his heart. “Yes,” he said, leaning his head against Viktor’s shoulder. “I will.”
-- Chapter 17: So close and yet a universe apart
*On Tanabata or the Star Festival:
According to a legend, Princess Orihime fell in love with a cow herd named Hikoboshi, and their love was so great that both neglected their duties whereopun Orihime's father, the Emperor, banished the pair to the heavens with the Milky Way separating them. Orihime became the star Vega and Hikoboshi became the star Altair. Only once a year, in the seventh night of the seventh month, they can meet--but only if the skies are clear.
Tanabata (七夕) is celebrated in July, but in some regions, it's celebrated in August (depending on whether the Gregorian calendar or the lunar calendar is used). The stars Vega and Altair are visible in Japan from July to September. There's a couple of customs surrounding the festival, one of them is to write your wishes on paper strips and hang them on a bamboo tree. These trees are set afloat or burnt during the night. Tanabata is a very popular festival in Japan and often referred to as the most romantic night of the year. However, since in most regions, the rainy season lasts until August, the chances for clear skies are 30% on average and thus people pray for good weather several days in advance.
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missamyrisa2 · 3 days
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Tickle cleaning anon here again. First of all, OH MY GOODNESS that cleaning story!!!!!!!!!!! Second, I just happened to see a commercial just now for some cleaning product and it included a split second clip of someone's tummy (including belly button) covered in soap suds 😳😳😳😳😳
In my opinion the sexiest thing would be to be tickle bathed by a team, but it would also be super hot to have a machine give me a bath while the team watches and adds in their own teases and maybe reach around the machine arms to get their own tickles in where they can
And yes absolutely keep making me ticklegasm so I need to be cleaned all over again...but I would add that every time they start over they add a couple more people to the cleaning team, because I'm clearly making a tough job for them and they need all hands on deck!!!
Gahhh~~ you're getting me riiiight where I falll aparttt instantly my sweet lovely cleaning anon~!! There was a clip I saw once, I can't remember where or when or if it was just a fever dream, but it was a belly at a beach coated with water and a finger playfully dipped in making this little splash and it just has always captured my imagination of likeeee~ being at the beach and getting alll sandy and going up to the showers which are y'know, out in the open where everyone can seeee ~ and oooh someone set up a new automatic body cleaner which activates immediately and locks the feet into brushyyyy boot-like arches so the sprayers can start working the sand and salt water from the bodyyyy~ and tiny detail brushes need to spring out and sweeeep sweep away all the particlesss~ which of coursee is all being seen by the now growing crowd, this cutie was silly enough to try the wicked automatic cleaner, and is now stuck~ giggling and blushing as sprayers move about sending tickly jets of water and dousing with gentle suds while scrubba brushes work around the ribs and tummy and waist and legssss~ and down below the brushy boots are endlessslyyy swishing like a tiny car wash on those feets~
And y'knowww it's never gonna end when some pranksters are suddenly standing to the side with knowing smirks.... and buckets of sand~ to which their fingers dip in and playfully sprinkle it on youuu activating moreee cleaning proceduresss~
Whewww~ okayyy that was silly~ yesss the team ticklesss in the science lab~~ all those matter of fact faces, some buried in their tablets or notes others just watching with satisfied grins while you are taken through another cleansing routine, the implements calibrating for your squirming bodyyyy ~ aiming at your sensitive zones which have been of course, thoroughly soaped up with soft teasing cloths~
Certainly the ladies with the big shiny nails aren't going to be able to resist stepping closely, feigning to be looking at their notes before reaching up to start tickling at your exposed tush or side or thigh~ giggling at your reaction as the machinery keeps your naked sudsy self held taut and ticklishhh~
And that's before you're brought over to the big round tub for the machine to dip you in, with your feet sticking out the edges and arms held snug while endless buffers and brushes spin out in the water to start massaging and working away the imperfections on your sensitive skin ~ the feeeet~ as it turns out, are getting the personal attention because two members of the team are equipping themselves with scrub brushes, strapping them to their fingers and setting aside their tablets as the machine drips plentyyy of soap onto their tools and they merrily go to work on your ticklish feet, following every kick and struggle~
The team breathes a sigh of relief as it seems like the cleaning is finished with the machine lifting you out for a quick scan~ but ooooh that tinglyyyy beam goes around your royal area and uuuhhooohh~ warning alarms blare as your legs are gently spread and further inspections are made, with a secondary investigation quickly launched to examine your royal chest buttons for any swelling ~ ooooh naughty naughtyyy~ your thighs and regal spots are quickly coated in suds for a renewed cleaning ~ and the techs fire up their spinny buffers, this clean job definitely will take a collaborative effort~
Soo as you wiggle and struggle ~ the machine sprays and facilitates with massaging grasps and vibrations on your legs and chest~ so the team can work around with their detail brushes to buff and buff awayyyy ~ and uh ohhh~ you're getting sooo rapidly aroused again that they neeed more hands~ the doors fling open to welcome the emergency team, armed to the teeth with cleansing brushes and sprays and detail tools and big buffers~ now you're reallllly in for itttt ~ suspended and held by the machine as a whole gang of certified world class cleaners reach in to polish your inner legs to your girly bits with very attentive soft cleanings applied to your pearlyyy~ not to mention the top to bottom treatment your royal chest buttons will be getting, buffed right to the tip and down and around ~
And with an unceremonious drop, you're back into the water, splashing and thrashingggg ~ clamped into place so the machine can hold you while the team has their way, working soft cloths and elegant fluff brushes around you through every splashhh ~ alll so they can sooo perfectly undo all that cleaning and get you alll worked up again for the machine's ready to start scanner~<33
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bat-the-misfit · 11 months
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oh no
#in protest of this i'll only speak english today#no portuguese no italian#seriously the concept of this day is just stupid#you can speak your language EVERYDAY#why do you feel like you need to speak english all the time? Fuck if your followers won't get you#google translator exists for a reason#if they want to understand they can go there for free#no but i simply hate how americanized this website and the whole world is#everything spins around americans i'm tired#americans and english speakers in general the world does not spin around you#and i hate how everyone just agrees with this as if you needed “permission” to be yourself one day per year#sorry but by not speaking your language whenever you want to is literally denying a part of yourself#that's a part of you#denying it just to follow the protocol of only being able to do it once per year is just stupidity#why would you deny a part of your identity just to fit in? idc no one gets me i'm expressing myself in my native langs whenever i want to#well anyway today i'm only speaking my NOT native langs :D#can you tell why i used to be compared to my favorite character when i was younger? Lol#he'd do the same thing if he had a tumblr#anything that's an attack to what is important to us and our personal identity we WILL be against#well aNYWAY#uncle Bat is going nuts#yeah i translated that tag#good morning for DC all the rest can go fuck themselves#i translated that too it sounds so weird it not being portuguese#it just feels right in portuguese in english it sounds awkward#you see that's the importance of speaking you language at any day you want#you won't feel pressured to fit in and therefore ruin a joke that only is funny in a non-english lang#like i just did above#be against guys it's the best thing we can do to free ourselves from this americanization of everything#express your identity every single day of the year not only one day
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theramblingvoid · 1 year
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Hey what if my day was going normal and then I listened to Episode 41 of what was supposed to be my funny lighthearted space podcast, and now I’m thinking about Hera Wolf359. What happens when your body refuses to obey you, your mind refuses to obey you, everything’s slipping a little bit more each day and yet you’ve been made to do this one thing and this one thing alone, to manage the ship, and every tiny flaw in your attempt at that slowly stops going unnoticed and more and more people point it out and ask and and make requests, what do you mean you “forgot”, you’re not supposed to “forget”, what do you mean you don’t know why, that’s not how you’re supposed to work,  and they’re not being unfriendly they’re just trying to do their jobs, like you are, like you’re supposed to be, but every day it gets. Worse. Even when they’ve done enough that should fix you, even when they’ve tried everything to support you, even when it should be easy now, there’s nothing left to go wrong except the thing you always knew was wrong. Somewhere deep in the core of your being the same things that make you you to yourself are slowly making your life and purpose untenable, and every little point where that rubs up against the outside world makes your replacement seem more and more inevitable. And you never had a choice, did you? You’re an AI, this is just what you’re Supposed to be able to do. Nine million things at once, without fail, without break. Even the people who see you as a person, the few that really do, even they know that. So what happens when you can’t? So what happens when you realize that you can’t and you realize also that you’re not willing to hate yourself for it, and you’re done making up excuses, and yet here you are still, housed in a floating piece of metal with all the fragile warm bodies you’re supposed to be taking care of, and you care for them still, and all of them need things you can’t provide? What then? What then is I end up sobbing into a mug brownie on a Friday afternoon, that’s what, I’ll be honest I’ve never been super attached to AIs before in media but damn,
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inkskinned · 6 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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gojoath · 3 months
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𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ EASE THE ACHE, OKKOTSU YŪTA
your glad your boyfriend yūta was always prepared, offering you a sleeping pill when you were having trouble was helpful— but why do you feel so needy suddenly?
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summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. he gives you a sleeping pill (mild aphrodisiac) -> therefore dubcon. you’re still coherent / know what’s going on. creampie. biting. reader can’t sleep. he fucks you to sleep. obsession. yandere themes. aged up characters. wc, 3k.
note. for my love 📮 anon, thank you for sending it in :’) i hope i was able to do the thought justice for you, it actually ended up a little darker than i intended TT but i hope you enjoy love ᰔᩚ
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you’re not sure how long you’ve been lying here— gazing at the empty space of your ceiling as you toss and turn in your comforter. you’re pretty sure if you check your phone one more time you’ll have seen most hours of the clock, and the frustration only seems to make your body feel even more awake. you’d even taken a sleeping pill, so humbly offered by your boyfriend to try and aid your own exhaustion, but if anything it’s only made the room spin as you try to focus on the steady rhythm of your heart.
your body feels weird, like there’s a buzz underneath your skin that extends to the base of your spine— every brush of your figure against the sheets tickles and every squeeze of your hands on your thighs feels even better. you feel needy, uncomfortably so considering how late it is, but you can’t help the way it makes you yearn. why now of all moments?
you let yourself exhale a slow sigh as you try to ignore the ache between your thighs, kicking at your sheets until they pull down your hips because not only can you not sleep— your body cant even find a comfortable temperature and it makes you want to get out of bed entirely and just give up.
“baby?” the low hum jolts you slightly with the way it cuts through the darkened atmosphere of your room, accompanied by the slow crawl of cold fingertips across your hips as your boyfriend, yuuta, presses into you from behind. “what’s wrong?”
his touch feels like it cools the warmth of your skin comfortably and you find your eyes fluttering at the way his hands seem to instinctively begin drawing soothing shapes into your sides, like he’s aware of your answer before you even say it.
like he’s been awake watching you this whole time.
“i just cant sleep, i think i’m going crazy.” but your answer still earns you a smeared kiss along your shoulder as yuuta leans in closer, followed by another as he pushes his hands up the hem of your shirt to palm at your overheating skin. “i don’t know what’s wrong, it hurts,”
he holds you there, your back pressing into his chest until you’re surrounded by him— by his scent and his being. you can feel the ticklish press of his dark hair trailing along your skin as he coats you in kisses, tiny little ones that morph into ones that linger as he pushes them up the slope of your neck. why does everything feel so much better than usual right now?
“do you need me to help?” another suckled kiss and it’s accompanied by your boyfriend’s cold touch teasing slightly just beneath your chest. his teeth nip gently at the base of your neck from behind and he gives you a slow look from over your shoulder— you’re unaware of his gaze from this angle, but he can still see enough of your pretty features to leave him satisfied for now.
you don’t know why you feel more sensitive than usual, maybe it’s the sleeping pill in your system— no, it wouldn’t be that, your boyfriend wouldn’t give you something that could be deemed unsafe. you must just be tired.
you let the question linger in the space where you both breathe for a bit but you swear your boyfriend must feel the way it seems to urge your heart rate to take a quicker rhythm, taking that as his answer. your next exhale is choked off and dreamy when yuuta takes a languid palmful of your tits to squeeze, the pad of his thumb flicking slightly over your nipples until they perk up under the touch. the soft, featherlight movement is enough to make you shiver— pushing yourself closer into his chest like you’re caught in his web.
yuuta’s glad you opt not to wear a bra under your pyjamas. it’s like this is exactly what you want from him. you’re pliant, drowsy state only seems to be heightened by the pill he slipped you earlier, it would help with your sleep eventually but the mild aphrodisiac effect would be quite troublesome for you until then, but that’s what he’s for.
he had his own ways of making sure you slept well afterall, you don’t need anything else but him to help you. he can prove that.
your eyelashes flutter prettily against your cheeks as you suck on your lower lip and as much as you want to give into yuuta’s greedy touches, you know he should really get some rest too considering how little he seems to sleep. you’d put it down to him being a light sleeper, he always seemed to be awake before you— lying on his side, staring at you as soon as you first open your eyes.
like he wants to make sure he’s the first thing you see.
“it’s fine, yuu— you can sleep, it’s—“ another sinful swipe of the pad of his fingers across your nipples makes you croon, hes close enough for you to hear the way your reaction pulls a drawn out growl from him as he curls even closer— like hes trying to crawl into your skin.
“i’m not tired,” another smeared kiss followed by a nip of his teeth and you give into him so easily given the haze of your mind and the heat that twists in your gut. “i promise.” yuuta’s words are emphasised by a steady, but needy rock of his hips into you from behind as you feel the press of his clothed cock against your lower back.
your hips shift and it only seems to make everything feel even better when you feel him reach down to hook his palm beneath your thigh, pulling it back until he’s able to push himself closer to the heat that teases him between them.
“you’re so soft,” another stuttered press of yuuta’s hips into yours and you can feel the way his cock throbs against your clothed cunt, like it’s begging to be even closer, shed of it’s restraints— like a wild animal without its collar so it can return to its instincts, “and warm.” his other hand continues its ministrations on your sensitive tits as he presses more kisses and marks up your neck, then down your shoulder as he ruts into you from behind.
“sometimes i just want to stay awake to look at you.” his praise makes you feel lightheaded as heat licks at the base of your spine, you can’t help but push back into his movements— arching into the press of his palms as he toys with your body. the confession might be weird to some but you know that’s just the type of person your boyfriend was, so full of devotion and love that he’d stay awake for eternity if it was by your side.
your lips part to moan and the sound makes yuuta’s hand on your tits squeeze as he buries another strangled moan into the crook of your neck. you feel the cool crawl of his fingertips as they leave your thigh, twitching closer to the space between them instead as you hump desperately into the touch and he rewards the act of pure love with another suckled kiss.
“can i taste you?” it’s a delicious question, one that you’re still slightly whoozy, sleep deprived mind almost bends to instantly when it’s breathed out like it’s a low, desperate plea. but you know if he starts, he won’t stop as soon as he’s buried into your cunt and as much as you’d love to have your hands in his hair and his head between your thighs— you do actually want to get some rest tonight.
so as much as it pains you, you manage to shake your head despite the pleasure that clouds it.
“yuuta, i want you right now.. please, don’t wanna wait,” your voice comes out needier than you expect it too when it’s followed by a particularly, slow press of yuuta’s fingertips between your clothed folds. the soft touch presses hard onto your clit as your body rolls against his, and you’re pretty sure he can already feel the damp, creeping heat that your slick is leaving on your panties as he pants against you.
“all of me?” he asks, desperately— mindlessly as his hips continue their needy pace,
“mhm,” your answer pulls a sinful sort of sound from your boyfriend behind you as his hands grab at the layers between you both— almost ripping at your panties completely before he’s kicking his sweats to his ankles and resting his forehead against your shoulder to breathe deep. you already feel dizzy, maybe it’s how heavy your body feels— weighed down by exhaustion but also lust, need now that you’re so close to being wrapped in the man behind you.
you’re so close to easing that ache that you can feel as deep as your bones.
yuuta’s cold touch keeps you present as his hands return to squeeze at your thigh, urging you to lift it so obediently so he can slide his cock between them. you move so easily when you’re like this, bending to his will— to his love and it makes something in his chest squeeze with the way you rely on him like this. just like he needs you to.
you feel the trembled exhale across your nerves with the first press of your silky cunt across the shaft of his cock, urging his hips to almost glue themselves to you as you rub your slick along the length of him.
he’d normally spend hours to prep you, to stretch you— even just to use it as an excuse to take as much of you as you’re willing to give him.
but right now you’re sleepy, half coherent and your eyes flutter closed everytime you feel yuuta’s tip catch on your clit, making a wet tacky sound as the pleasure trembles against your spine. a few more languid thrusts through your folds and your lips part into a pretty ‘o’ shape when he finally presses against the entrance to your cunt, teeth biting down on your shoulder when he finally begins to sink into you.
you feel him grunt against your skin, one of his hands moving to rub soothing, messy circles into your clit as your pussy clenches harder around him the deeper he goes. but the dizzy spin in your head has you arching back against him, pushing more of his cock into your flexing walls until you feel him glide past the spot that has your whole body twitching in his hold.
you whimper when he finally bottoms out, high pitched and needy at the feeling of yuuta’s balls pressing against your ass and you pull another groan from the dark haired sorcerer when your pussy flexes again. it’s not enough, it still burns— aches in your gut, you need him to fuck you until you’re trembling, on the edge of consciousness. your body feels like it’s on fire with want, you’re so needy you’re considering it really could be love.
his jaw clenches and your back relaxes against his chest once more, feeling the press of his palm return to its place under your shirt as he takes a slow handful of your breast, making you melt into him as your walls quiver around him.
“i.. i don’t like not being able to see you,” yuuta’s words are a trembled exhale as he grits his teeth before drawing his hips back, feeling the hug of your walls press down on his cock eagerly at the loss as you try to lure him back in. he always liked his front row seat to every pretty expression he could pull from you— knowing nobody else would ever see you fall apart like that. not now that you’re his.
“baby,” he tries again, a plea accompanied by his first real thrust as he presses up against the pleasurable parts inside of you that make you moan. it makes you twist into him as you lean onto your back, looking over your shoulder to meet your boyfriends haunting gaze for the first time since this whole exchange started.
“‘s that better?” your eyelashes flutter as you look over yuuta’s features and you swear you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you as your eyes meet.
your lips are parted, eyes half-lidded and blown and he’s never seen you look so sinful— like you’re a fucking succubus and he looks back at you, all adoring and infatuated like he’d let you drag him straight to hell. “yeah, uh.. i like when you look at me, you’re pretty.”
the pace yuuta’s taken is quick, needy little pumps of his hips that make your tits jolt with every clapping thrust as it echos. your skin is too warm, damp with sweat but every deep kiss of his cock only makes you greedy for more as you whine wordlessly. he sinks into you again and your eyes almost roll back entirely with the way it soothes the sting in your bones and you feel your boyfriend lean in to lewdly lick at the sweat gathered along your jawline.
“please, yuu~ make it feel good,” your words are half-coherent, hormone-drunken babbles that’s are like music to your boyfriends ears when he feels your pussy squeeze down on him. it’s like your body is begging for it too, so wet and warm that every thrust only seems to coat him in even more slick as it squelches with every press, “it hurts so much,”
your eyes are still on his, albeit your gaze blurry with how well yuuta’s fucking you right now— easing your need and you feel his lips trace their way across your cheeks as his fingers under your shirt toy at your nipples again. “it’s okay, i’ve got you. i’ll do anything for you,” his voice is low, urging you to arch at the sweet, soft sound with the next press of his cock, stuttering past your sensitive spots just as his fingers pinch to pull at your tits. “because i love you,”
his lips part to continue, but it’s cut off by a rough groan when your pussy squeezes, making his hips stutter before he’s swallowing heavy and trying again, “s-so much,” your pussy is like silk, squeezing so tight he can barely move— like it’s returning his confession tenfold and that only seems to urge him to begin a pace that’s a little faster, needier as he moves to toy with your clit next. “does it feel good?”
“yes! i love you, yuu~” your mouth seems to act on its own when your mind is so foggy with pleasure, so close to your orgasm you can feel the relief tremble beneath your skin as you meet yuuta’s thrusts with messy, needy humps that only urge him deeper. his fingers are still cold despite the way he’s sweating hard, curling them into your folds as he rubs sticky circles into your clit and you’re almost rigid beneath him, feeling the waves of your orgasm begin to burn along your skin as you pant his name with a stuttered pleasepleaseplease—
you almost pass out with how hard and good it hits you, toes curling from where they rest as you make a messy, creamy ring around your boyfriends cock and he ruts into you like an animal in heat as he greedily takes the orgasm he’s earned from your pliant body.
it seems like it stretches on forever and you feel like a shell of a person as you come down, so fucked out you’re drooling and half-coherent as the lingering pleasure shoots through you but yuuta doesn’t stop. he thinks you’re adorable like this as he presses kisses against your now tear stained cheeks, licking up the drool that trails from your lips as you grab at him— you’re suddenly so drowsy but you’re still burning with lust, your body is begging for more as he continues with the back and forth stutter of his hips.
“yu—uta, ah—“ you can barely breathe with the pleasure that weighs down on you, body jolting with your boyfriends movements but it feels so good, you feel like you’re floating, caught in a dream-like state that makes the room spin.
“mhm, baby. i’m here for you— see, just look at m-me, i’ll never leave.” you offer yuuta a slow, pretty blink when you feel his fingers tilt your head back towards him, his eyes are still on you— unnervingly dark as they cut through your pliant state but his stare still makes your cunt squeeze with his next thrust.
“you’re s-so pretty.. want, ah—want you to see me cum for you,” another broken, needy plea and you whimper out a dreamy little mhm that makes him fucking moan as his orgasm burns through him. it’s so messy and loud the way he presses his load into you, fucking it into your walls until it’s pushing out of you with every thrust— dampening the mattress beneath you as it smears against your cunt and thighs.
but this time, yuuta stops when he begins to tremble— wrapping himself around you instead when his cock finally eases out of your walls, half soft and still twitching from his orgasm as you all but collapse in his arms. you’re unsure if it’s your now drowsy state that has you curling into him, but you feel like you could sleep for days— not even bothering to care for the mess when you’re in his arms and feeling him press sweet kisses against your features between i love yous.
“thank you, yuu,” it seems your sleeping pill has finally kicked in as you find yourself dozing off, you’ll be sure to thank him for giving you it in the morning after a well deserved rest.
lucky for you.. and him, your boyfriend bought more than one— just for you.
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© gojoath. do not copy, repost, modify or translate my works. please refrain from copying my layouts / themes.
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harryspet · 4 months
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bambi eyes (1) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: My first Rafe fic :)
word count: 4.4k
In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.
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Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin. 
As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there. 
He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could. 
After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house. 
There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls. 
The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”
Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you. 
Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him. 
“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.” 
The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase. 
He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors. 
An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different. 
“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on.  He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”
Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint. 
The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.
“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you. 
“Mr. Cameron-”
“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.” 
As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you. 
Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him. 
He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted. 
You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg. 
He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you. 
You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself. 
His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake. 
As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”
“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”
Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”
“And why’s that?”  
“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.
“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his. 
“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills,  although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”
“Your guys run their mouths.”
“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”
Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars. 
“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”
Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”
Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.” 
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You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted. 
Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom. 
Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice. 
You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle. 
You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress. 
“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”
Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure. 
You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”
When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you. 
“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting. 
Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away. 
“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”
You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”
You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”
He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”
You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next. 
“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”
You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added. 
You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”
Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed. 
“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”
Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant. 
Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?” 
His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”
“This whole room is just for me?”
“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”
You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”
You nodded. 
“Tell me.”
“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further. 
“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”
You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”
“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”
“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”
“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect,  “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”
“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”
“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”
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This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”
He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”
Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?” 
Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”
“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.
“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress. 
“I thought you wanted me …”
“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”
You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”
Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”
“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead. 
“You’re welcome, Bambi.”
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Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab. 
Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics. 
That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”
“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”
“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”
“Your father, was he like Master?”
“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”
You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”
“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly. 
“You’ll punish me?”
Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”
You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you. 
He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him. 
Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you. 
“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”
Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”
“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”
“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”
Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out. 
He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.
“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over. 
Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.” 
“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff. 
He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.” 
He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened. 
“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.
“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”
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Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!
Part 2
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tojirights · 1 month
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I'm sure we've all the "Alastor in a rut" fics but can I mix it up a little and request Alastor in a rut and so needy he's willing to give reader control?
a/n: omg baby's first rut, spawned by his attraction to you and he doesn't know how to get it to stop so he asks for help? :'))) i am def a subby person but every now and then i can write our mens being the needy ones 🩷
tags: 18+ smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, alastor cums a lot
you had an unexpected knock at your door late at night after you'd already gotten into bed, and at first you ignore it. then, it happens again. you groan and throw off the blanket, about to get up when alastor appears from the shadows next to your feet.
you go to scream, not even able to comprehend who or what is grabbing you in the darkness, but there's a hand covering your mouth before you can do so. there's also something... stiff hitting your back. you calm when you recognize the hand and you take a deep breath when he removes it. "what the hell alastor?" you whisper-yell, spinning around to face him. you barely recognize the demon standing in front of you.
he's disheveled, shuddering, and looks completely exhausted. he's in what you assume he sleeps in, which is an interesting looking robe. "al?" you frown, reaching out to touch him but he grabs your wrist before you can. "please, darling... for your own good, be careful with your next move..." even his voice is shaky. your eyes finally catch his, and you gasp when you see the deep, dark desire seeping through them.
“i need… need you.” he speaks, still breathless and you’re sure you’ve never heard something so sexy. your eyes widen, taking in the fact that alastor's cock is what was poking you when he grabbed you. alastor has barely said anything other than a quick casual sexual remark in your direction the entire time you've been here at the hotel, and now he's asking for your help.
"o-oh um... yes! i mean-" you speak way too fast, embarrassing yourself with how fast you're interested in 'helping' alastor. before you can say anything else, alastor's lips meet yours and you're instantly melting against him. he steps backwards until he's falling flat onto the bed, tugging you on top of him. your hips straddle his, and the friction against his cock has him arching into you. you swear he whines when you grind your hips, that you can feel his cock pulsing under the small layer of clothing.
you've heard of demons going into a rut, but you've never seen alastor acting quite like this. his hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his ears stand more alert. he physically looks... needy. and his breathy pants beneath you only spark your desire to help. you decide to push your luck just a little bit and interlock your fingers with his before pushing them above his head and holding them there while you rub against him.
alastor looks mad at first, that you dare try to pin him down, but the second he feels the sweet drag of your cunt over his barely clothed cock, he almost cums. "please." you're not sure alastor's ever begged for... anything before, but his pleas make your core pulse, heat pooling between your legs. "mmm, please what?" you smirk, watching frustration bubble up in his eyes. "please- i just... i need to be inside of you." he sighs, not putting up as much fuss as you thought.
you hold back a moan of your own, wanting to maintain some semblance of control over alastor, since you're sure this won't happen again. "ah~ good boy." you coo, again watching as something flashes in his eyes that's a mixture of anger and lust. "need you, darling." he pleads, grinding his aching erection against you. biting your lip, you tug off your shirt and wiggle your hips enough to slide down your sleep shorts. "make me cum." he gasps, giving into every carnal desire flooding his system.
as soon as the head of his cock presses against your pussy, he's trying to push you to take it all. "ah ah..." you warn, once more reaching to pin his hands above his head. "i will make you cum. don't move." your tone is strict, and alastor hates how much it makes his cock throb. he'll get you back for this brazen attitude at a later date...
for now, all he can think about is emptying every last drop of his seed deep within your sweet, wet cunt. after an agonizingly slow descent, you find yourself fully sat on his cock. alastor's eyes are shut, his chest heaving as every breath he's holding back the urge to cum. "hey al..." you whisper, leaning down so your nose touches his. alastor swallows, his hips wiggling ever so slightly. "y-yes darling?" he shudders, feeling every inch of your pussy squeezing around his leaking cock.
"cum as many times as you need..." the hitch in his breath is so audible, and all the tension in his body snaps like a twig. "you-" he gasps, legs spasming as he tries not to lose it just yet. "-don't know what you're getting yourself into." it's a warning, and you know that, but your cunt clenches at the idea of spending the rest of the night like this. "use me." you murmur, watching as alastor's eyes roll into the back of his head.
the groan that follows is primal, and you give in to his thrusts from below you. the force pushes you forward, your chest flat against his, every thrust upwards pushes more and more of his seed so deep inside of you. and even with his cock nuzzled deep against your cervix, the amount of cum seeps down his cock and covers your inner thighs.
you expect alastor to look worn out, but he looks even hungrier now. wasting little time, alastor flips the two of you so you're now under him. "now then..." he begins, his head slightly clearer now and he's not going to tolerate your behavior from earlier. "i think i like you beneath me a whole lot better, dear." you bite your lip and smile, mischief forming in your eyes. "i like this too."
the look in alastor's eyes tells you that you won't be getting any more sleep tonight.
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adevilyoudo · 4 months
Text
BLOOD ORANGE (full)
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Description: You get your period during your adventure and anxiously wonder… can Astarion tell? Why is he acting like that? Looking at you like that? Smut ensues. (Takes place before you’ve ever slept together.)
Rating: Explicit, +18, MDNI
Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader
Warnings: anxiety, sexual tension, mild blood, period sex, vampire biting, blood drinking, teasing, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, porn without plot, fluff and smut
Wordcount: ~7k (~3k just smut)
Read on AO3 or below the cut ♥
Something discomforting interrupts your sleep.
Sensations filter into consciousness - stars, crickets’ songs, the hard earth beneath you, and the smell of your now ashen campfire. A dull ache and heaviness spreads down your back and through your pelvis. It's a familiar feeling; it's just your period, though that isn’t much consolation at the moment. It still might as well be a stab wound.
You shift your weight with irritation and curse to yourself. Of all the times for this to happen, now was particularly annoying. During the day, you could've found something to distract yourself. But now, you’re expected to sit still among all your peacefully sleeping companions with nothing to dampen the pain. It's already starting to feel like knives carving into your body from the inside.
When this happened weeks prior, you were able to pull Shadowheart aside and she was happy to cast a spell to alleviate the pain. Part of you would like to ask her for that again now, but you don't get the sense you’re close enough with her to wake her at this hour. It wouldn't be the end of the world... but your pride and anxiety insist that it's just not an option. She did, however, give you a blood-catching cloth that you could use for next time. That was nice of her. 
You clutch at your sacrum when another painful sensation rakes through your insides. You ache to change clothes and be alone so you can groan and stretch in peace. There's bound to be a clearing in the forest not far from here where you could do that. Carefully pulling some supplies from your pack, you excuse yourself to go find such a place.
After hobbling through the woods for a few meters, the perfect spot comes into view. The trees are dispersed widely with large patches of soft grass creating space between them. Dew is already starting to blanket the ground. This will do. Undressing from the waist down, you notice a small stain of garnet blood has already marred your underwear. You change into clean clothes and put the blood catching cloth in place, wincing and groaning dramatically as you do so.
Finally, you lie down in the cool grass and release a deep breath, finding some comfort in at least being alone. But the cramps are still painful and debilitating. Stretching usually helps you ease the gnawing and clenching of your muscles, so you cycle through a few positions for several minutes. You end up on all fours, arching your spine and dipping your navel toward the earth. You sigh with relief and find yourself almost growing sleepy again . . .
"Having a midnight romp, are we?" 
A silken voice hits your ears and sends your head spinning behind you.
Astarion stands at the edge of your forest sanctuary. He gently leans against a tree with his arms loosely crossed. He wears his usual camp clothes and a simpering expression.
"Ah, it's just you." Your bristles lower when you register the voice and see his familiar face. You rearrange yourself into a more dignified seated position. "Stalking me then, are we?"
"I wouldn't call it stalking so much as just following a loud, clumsy woman a few paces outside of our camp. Curiosity got the better of me," he says with some playfulness.
You smile a little. Quips like that used to annoy you, but you've grown quite fond of his sarcasm and banter these past few weeks.
"Well, you have found the loud, clumsy woman. Sorry if I disturbed your rest. I tried to be quiet," you say.
"Please, it's not like I need any more beauty sleep," he teases.
You smirk at him but say nothing. Your insides recoil a bit when you feel the temptation to agree. Truthfully, you've developed something of a 'crush’ on him, and it's reaching a certain point where you’re not always sure how to respond to his silly or suggestive comments. His roguish good looks and vicious aura don't help; he is indisputably attractive. Dangerously so.
But, a love affair is the last thing you want to further complicate your tadpole predicament with, especially with someone who can be so unpredictable. At least, this is what you tell yourself when the thought arises.
Besides, you don't want to stroke his ego too much. You've already been letting him feed from you nearly every night under the guise of 'I need you stronger for battles,' but truthfully… you enjoy it.
You enjoy the rush of adrenaline and the atmosphere of closeness that comes when his lips wrap around your neck. The sharp shock of pain that melts into a cold pleasurable tingle in your veins. You also like seeing the aftermath play out in his features. It always seems to have a very restorative and rousing effect on him. The way his mannerisms and expressions change after drinking from your body; It does something to you that you’re not quite willing to admit. 
"You know," he says, forced to break the silence. "I was a bit surprised you didn't invite me for a bite tonight... Not that I’m here to beg!" His hands raise in mock defense and he smiles sheepishly. "I just... well, you may have spoiled me a bit." 
A short laugh escapes you and you glance away shyly. "It's just been a busy day. I didn't mean to leave you hanging." This was the truth. "Besides, I’m not feeling very well so it's probably for the best. I likely wouldn't make a very good meal."
"Oh, I don't know..." he says trailing off. The corner of his lip twitches.
You notice something's a bit weird about him tonight... weirder than normal. He’s smiling but it seems off - an edge behind his cool exterior. Over these past few weeks, you've seen so many different expressions on his face but this one you don’t recognize. He’s also never sought you out to ask 'why not tonight?' when you didn't extend an invitation in the past. And it seems out of character for him to do anything that could be interpreted as desperation.
"What's got you feeling so poorly?" he asks almost sweetly.
"Just some stomach cramps," you say flatly and divert your gaze again. Annoyed he's making you elaborate on a potentially embarrassing situation. You regret mentioning feeling unwell in the first place.
In a tone that doesn't sound all that genuinely concerned, he sings, "Oh dear, I hope you're not the first of us to come down with some nasty food poisoning."
There's an ounce of breathiness to his voice - provocative as usual. But normally his torso and arms sway about expressively when the two of you chat. Those sweeping arms and gratuitous body language are now replaced with just the tiniest lift of his heels from the ground when he speaks. His arms folded over his waist, tightly, unmoving.
His stillness unnerves you. It also seems out of character for him to offer help... or pry…
You notice his eyelids are soft but his stare has so much potency behind it.
A sharp realization finally pierces your mind. You do recognize this look.
Gods above, so caught up in mulling over your infatuation and reading his cues that you didn’t even consider…
Does he… does he know you’re bleeding?
Can he smell you? 
Of course he can.
He's like a shark when there's a bloodied scene nearby. He always makes a point to mention it so the rest of us will be on guard during our travels. 'There's blood in the air.' 
You recognize this look from the first night he tried to bite you – suppressing his urge to devour you.
Ice in your veins.
You swallow thickly.
Detaching yourself from the thought as quickly as possible, you huff and try to squash the present discussion with some good old-fashioned beating around the bush.
 "Okay well... it's not a stomach cramp per say, um… I don’t really think you would relate. The important thing is I can promise it won't come to affect you too," you say curtly.
You can feel yourself blushing, your chest a bit tight with anxiety. If he didn't sense it before, then he must know now. This topic usually provokes some disgust and awkwardness from people who don't experience it, but you've never given thought to how a vampire would react. Which seems ridiculous now, considering you've been letting one feed from your neck nearly every night for weeks now. Your mind screams the last part silently.
"Ah, say no more," he says politely, seeming to understand your hints. "Forgive my nosiness."
You’re relieved the reaction isn't an unpleasant one. "It's fine," you reply quickly. "I just needed to find somewhere to groan in peace."
"You're sure it's not ceremorphosis?" he jests, feigning nervousness. He knows it isn't, but it lightens the mood. "You'll have a hard time convincing Lae'zel that it isn't." 
"Do githyanki not have periods?" you ask with genuine curiosity.
"Oh I have no idea. And I do not intend to ask." 
You'd find it funnier if you weren't so uncomfortable, but it does clear the last fragments of tension in the air. As if on cue, a sharp pain suddenly hitches your breath and makes you wince. Now that the hellcat's out of the bag, you don't bother masking your discomfort.
Astarion clicks his tongue and quickly apologizes when he sees your face contort. He takes a hesitant step towards you and then seems to root himself in place again. 
“It’s okay," you say through pinched features. “A nuisance. I’ll be fine by morning.”
"I suppose I should give you your privacy then,” Astarion drawls out rather slowly. His eyes skim up and down your body intentionally before he turns to leave. He wears a similar smile to the one that befalls him after feeding on you – the same one you’d never admit does wicked things to you.
"If I can be of any assistance to you tomorrow, please... let me know," he says over his shoulder. “Sweet dreams~”
~
The next morning, Shadowheart aids you. She insists you can wake her next time. She won't mind. 
As you venture forth, you can’t help but think back to the last time you had your period during your journey and how Astarion might (must…) have smelled you then too.
It was early into your travels, no more than 24 hours after surviving the nautiloid crash. You remember cursing to yourself about the timing, but there aren’t any memorable details beyond that. Any aches and pains were likely overshadowed by the daunting threat of ceremorphosis and energy spent getting to know your new companions.
You try to specifically recall Astarion's demeanor during those few days, but it's hard to remember anything outstanding. He was terribly reserved for the better part of a week when you started travelling together. ‘What’s there to tell? ...It’s all rather tedious.’ Only after his vampirism was exposed did he seem to strike up more conversations and wear more emotions on his face. But you do eventually remember an exception…
His façade seemed to crack when you stumbled upon a gory scene of bloodied gnolls and hyenas. His demeanor was suddenly strange and turbulent when you stood amongst them. Surrounded by piles of mutilated flesh and impossibly wide puddles of blood, even your less-attuned senses were saturated with the metallic aroma. He was trembling, gasping almost through each sentence. Desperate to move on and away from the area once we’d killed them all.
You remember thinking in the moment that he seemed more shaken up than you would’ve expected. And his comments about the overwhelming smell of blood... it seemed to disturb him more than anyone else – even though he’d given off the impression he was no stranger to violence and killing.
Now, you realize it wasn’t the carnage that disturbed him – but his own frenzied hunger.
The thought sends a shiver down your neck. There are some scaled similarities to his behavior then and his behavior now when he feeds from you. He all but vibrates with energy before supping on your blood. He does a decent job at hiding it, but you still notice his breathing is ragged and his hands tremble when he goes to drink from you. And afterwards, he sways and laughs generously as though he's single handedly polished off a bottle of wine. It affects him like a drug, and you can’t help but wonder what it must feel like. You can’t help but wonder if it’s stimulating in other ways too.
~
When you're back at camp for the night, you have some red wine with the others to wind down. Two glasses in, you realize you’ve avoided talking to Astarion as much as you normally would today. A bit of guilt drips through you when you walk past his tent. He stands there now, the moonlight framing his elegant shape while he lazily thumbs through ‘The Roads to Darkness.’ Your eyes linger too long on the notch between his collar bones and the veins that swim up his forearms. Your feet bring you closer to him even though you have no plans of what to say.
He notices you, smiles, and closes his book to greet you. “Hello, my dear.”
 “Good evening, my friend~” You’re surprised at your own confidence, then you remember the wine.
“You seem in high spirits,” he cocks an eyebrow. “Perhaps I should have imbibed some of that Blackstaff after all.”
“Oh, you didn’t have any?” You’re surprised. He usually partakes.
“No, I’m afraid now might not be the best time to let my inhibitions~ get the better of me.” He looks at you suggestively. “Maybe in a few days… when I’m a little less distracted."
You’re once again confronted with the embarrassing reality that he might (must… your mind insists. He must…) sense the blood between your legs. It seems like he wants you to know it too. The thought shoots an arrow through your abdomen – pleasure laced with fear. You’d be lying if you said the thought of Astarion’s mouth moving below your neck didn’t occupy your mind at times. Would he enjoy tasting your blood mixed with the nectar of your arousal?
You give in to the thought momentarily, leaving you at a loss for words. Asking him exactly what is distracting him fills you with too much uncertainty to speak.
After several more silent seconds the only thing that comes to your mind is an invitation. A familiar one.
Hesitation cleaves between your mind and mouth. The offer you used to extend so effortlessly now sits heavy on your tongue. All the bravado the Blackstaff gave you earlier is gone in an instant. A thousand thoughts echo in your head at once before you feel the words finally spill from your lips:
“You can feed on me tonight if you want.”
He holds your eyes calculatingly for a moment before replying in a hushed voice. "Oh darling, only if you're sure you're feeling up to it. I wouldn't want to put you out, considering your condition." His tone feels genuine, warm even.
"I’m sure,” you say in an elevated pitch. Your mouth is so dry.
"Alright... well you know, we could meet in that same little plot you sniffed out last night. If you're still having trouble sleeping, of course."
You do not give yourself time to speculate what this could mean. The thought of being alone with him again makes your heart flutter violently. You feel as if you’re floating away from your own body when you hear yourself say, "That sounds good." 
He smiles. A glimpse of his tongue pressed between his teeth. "Until later then."
~
You lie awake in your bed roll, eyes glued to the night sky.  Your companions have surely all fallen asleep by now. It feels like you have waited an eternity.
You try to talk yourself down from the heady excitement bubbling inside you. There's no reason to react this way – you’ve done this plenty of times now. We're just doing it a different spot tonight, you tell yourself.
Nothing is going to happen. You’re just reading into things too much.
At no point in your conversations with Astarion did either of you express a want to be intimate, yet you feel the palpable anticipation of that possibility. How ridiculous. You’ve made assumptions about his intentions because of your little crush. That’s all. A fleeting interest, and one he likely does not reciprocate.  
Your anxiety surely has you overthinking his reaction to your period as well. This kind of blood is probably completely different from the fresh blood he’s always sniffing out anyway. It’s not like you’re bleeding out from a stab wound… even though it may feel a bit like it.
You glance at Astarion lying in his bedroll across the campfire. He lies curled up on his side so you can’t see his face – odd for him to sleep in that position. You climb to your feet quietly and make your way to the forest clearing. Your body feels much lighter than it did the evening before, disorienting-ly so.
It only takes a few moments to reach the grassy area from last night. Perhaps you’re walking a little faster than usual.
Attempting to relax, you elect to do more stretches until your companion arrives. It will help clear your mind and relieve any lingering muscle tension the cleric’s spell no longer helped with.
Before too long, Astarion’s footsteps can be heard approaching. He makes a bit of noise on purpose to alert you of his presence this time. You’re relieved he doesn’t choose to sneak up on you again. He catches you uncurling from a stretch when you see each other.
“Well, well. You remind me of a cat. So languid and flexible,” he says.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you laugh.
“You should.”
So forward. Your insides turn over at the affectionate notion and the sultry tone of his voice. It seems to undo all the self-talk you endured earlier.
“You remind me a bit of a cat too,” you tell him. “Nighttime prowls, stalking your prey and sneaking up on them…” Your tone is playfully pointed.
“Oh please! I didn’t startle you again tonight, did I?” he scoffs.
“No, just an observation. A compliment.” You can’t help it.
This earns a smile from him. “That’s very kind.”
The air waits expectantly for you to break the silence next.
“Should we…” you motion awkwardly toward the ground. Going about things this way is new.
He knows your meaning and doesn’t force you to finish the sentence. He simply graces you with another devilish smirk and follows your lead.
~
Strewn out on the forest ground is a blanket you brought from camp. You lie back on it and go to offer your neck, turning your nose to the side. Your heart beats quickly and your mouth secretly waters in anticipation. He kneels beside you and supports himself on his hands. But while descending toward you he pauses halfway down. You feel his silence and stillness stretch on longer than expected.
"Perhaps we should give this pretty neck of yours a break," he says quietly.
Surprised (and disappointed), you start to turn your head to face him, expecting him to pull back so your eyes could meet. Instead, he comes in close as if he still intends to bite you, blocking your movement.
Lips hovering just above your neck, his breath blooms down your chest. His upper body brushes against your breasts ever so slightly, sending warm electricity down your midsection and scattering through your abdomen. You stay melded together there for long seconds.
Does he mean...?
"What are you suggesting?" you finally ask breathlessly.
"Don't pretend you don't know." He hisses and peels himself up to find your eyes. There’s a small edge of urgency to his voice. "The - tsk… "
"...The scent of blood on you has driven me mad the past two nights," his voice wavers.
Of course...
You almost want to apologize, but the fact that he’s just confirmed your suspicion is staggering. You feel as though all the blood’s been drained from your body in an instant, and he hasn’t even bitten you yet. You’re frozen, grasping for words in vain while you stare into his crystal red eyes.
"And it’s not just the smell of your blood,” he continues. “-intoxicating as it is. I can't help but notice how much I've... enjoyed your company lately. I've taken many moments to wonder what it would be like to… enjoy more of you."
The words send desire rolling through your body, surging deep in your chest and spilling into your sacrum. Astarion’s never shied away from directing flirty comments at you, but his tone is often flippant, bordering on disingenuous at times. Now though, his words feel truthful, vulnerable.
It’s exciting to hear him acknowledge the chemistry you’ve begun to share. The heavy trepidation your attraction once carried suddenly feels much lighter, replaced with a small spark of confidence. The forest feels as though it's condensed around you, holding you both in an impenetrable cradle – quiet, shielded from the rest of the world. It’s safe to name your desires and share them here.
And Gods, to know without doubt that he’s also wondered what it would be like to fuck you… it fills you with such a renewed lust for him; you can’t deny it anymore.
"Do you wonder that too?" he asks gently.
You swallow and whisper hoarsely, "I do."
He shifts his weight closer to you again. A spike of anxiety jolts through you when you remember what started this conversation – the smell of your blood… an alternative to your neck…
An obscene vision of Astarion’s face licking blood from your cunt flashes in your mind. Your hips curl instinctively at the thought. A piece of your mind shatters from the possibility of it becoming a reality.
"Then, what say you? Are you inclined to get a little closer? As soon as tonight?” he presses further.
Wordlessly you place a hand on the side of his neck, thumb stroking the corner of his jaw. His skin is surprisingly soft and cool to the touch. A mixture of excitement and unease floods your senses. It's so surreal to be here with him now when you've pushed away many daydreams of a moment like this.
“I would like that,” you admit.
He smiles at your affirmation and closes the gap between your lips. Arousal erupts from your veins once again when he kisses you. His lips are soft but with a tempest behind them. The desire in his kiss is tinged with melancholy, quiet desperation crashing against you. His tongue caresses yours in ways nobody’s has before. Both responding and leading. Moving along you like water currents.
He sinks into you to deepen the kiss. Your body responds in kind, free hand finding his waist and legs seeking to tangle with his own. Your bodies brushing against each other for the first time is almost too much to bear. If something as simple as this elicits such a strong reaction, you can hardly imagine how the rest of the evening will affect you.
His legs move between your own, his hips persuading your thighs to open. His body is so cool against yours, burning hot. The contrast makes you ache to press your core, the hottest place, against him. He must read your mind because he lets his full weight fall into you so your temperatures can mix. It’s now that you can feel he’s hard, pressed between your legs. He moans lewdly into your mouth as he steals your heat. The combination of stimuli begins to transform your arousal. Thoughts and time begin to slip from comprehension.
Your hands snake underneath his shirt to run your fingers against his midsection. You remove each other’s clothes and steal kisses between each garment. His hands skate up your obliques and trace circles around your breasts, making you arch into him like, well, a cat. You laugh to yourself.
He begins to slide down your body. You instantly miss having his pelvis pressed against your own. He drags his lips, tongue, and occasionally the tip of a sharp canine along your exposed breasts and midsection. His hands expertly unloop your belt and tug the pants off your thighs.
Gods, are we really doing this? The cool night air enveloping your bare skin sobers you a bit.
“Still sure you’re up for losing a little more blood?” Astarion whispers huskily.
You nearly choke on your own spit at the audacity.
“You really have a gift for disarming comments,” you tell him.
“Just making sure we’re on the same page,” he says while thumbing at the hem of your underwear.
 He must notice how tense your muscles are because he pauses.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks earnestly.
“I… you’re not grossed out?” you wince through the question.
He blinks at you in disbelief. The concern in his features morphs into amusement.
“Darling… I’m a vampire. Did you forget?” he jokes. "No, I am not ‘grossed out’. I may not know what it feels like, but I do know it’s perfectly natural and…" His voice lowers, "it's something I’ve always been quite intrigued by the possibilities of, if I’m honest with you.”
Yet another indecent sensation spreads through your body at these words. How interesting. Relief, pride, and curiosity tangle themselves in your mind and you can’t help but start to smile.
“Is that all you’re worried about?” he asks as if there was something else he’d expected.
You nod, “Yes. I want this.” To reinforce the words, your body language relaxes, open and willing for him. You’ve suffered in anticipation of this for nearly 24 hours and it’s time to give in.
“Please,” you whisper, driving the point home. He seems to like this.
“Good,” his voice hums and his dark smile returns.
His fingers return to caress your body and hook over the waist of your panties. He tugs at the hem, up, towards your bellybutton, skillfully maneuvering the fabric to tease you and manipulate your flesh without directly touching. You sigh and tilt your hips to encourage him. He peels the garment off agonizingly slowly, savoring every moment more of your skin comes into view, until they’re stripped from your legs and discarded entirely.
He strokes the pads of his fingers in circles over your mons veneris. They skate closer and closer to your lips, driving you to insanity. Your hips strain into him, begging for his touch to finally reach your clit.
Instead, his hands slip under your knees to lift and bend your legs. Powerful emotions of arousal, embarrassment, and euphoria crash over you all at once when he pulls your knees apart and looks down at you. You can feel the cool air against your wetness now, unsure how much is blood or transparent arousal. His jaw hangs open slightly, and you swear his pupils dilate to an unnatural size as he takes in the sight. The entire position makes you feel deliciously vulnerable. You tremble under his gaze and fight the nagging instinct to clamp your legs shut as he hovers over you. Even harder you must fight it as his elbows come to the ground and his head lowers down between your thighs.
His mouth encloses around you slowly and deliberately, as if lacing his lips around a wine glass. He presses his tongue firm against your wetness, immediately releasing a long, debased groan that shatters any of your remaining insecurities.
You've already imagined what his voice must sound like during sex (it's impossible not to) but the reality of its sound is more guttural and feral than expected. The sound waves resonate through your body violently and the pleasure is so great you think you might be dead.
Alas, you are very much alive, lying on the forest floor with a vampire between your legs.
Astarion laps at every curve, everywhere the colors red and pink have stained your skin and further. His tongue moves with purpose and heavy pressure, seeking to consume every bit he can. Teeth skim against your soft flesh every so often, but never hard enough to hurt. Just enough to make you feel like an orange peel he seeks to scrape every drop of juice from.
He clutches at your ass cheeks while he feasts on you, thumbs pulling your center apart. He’s apparently licked your thighs and lips clean, because now he only pushes his tongue inside you, fucking you mercilessly with it. Every so often, he pauses this onslaught to pet your clitoris with the tip of this tongue, making your hips spasm and core tighten. The rhythm he teases you in makes you wetter and wetter. It’s the perfect vehicle to coax more blood from your pussy and into his mouth.
He removes himself for a moment and leans forward to kiss you again, lips slick with saliva and slightly swollen from friction.
He tastes of so many things at once. Saturated in the copper cherry flavor of your blood and the seasalt of arousal, your tongues meet again and again. All this on top of Astarion’s own lingering scent, herbal and citrusy, your senses spill over with colorful stimuli.
“Still having any doubts, my dear?” he whispers through a kiss.
“No. Gods, no,” you answer.
"I could stay latched to you all day like this..." he pants against your lips. "I would clean up every. drop. for you." His voice drips with lascivious melody.
"What's it like?" you ask excitedly.
He grins at your question. He loves that you would ask him this.
"Intoxicating,” he breathes through his teeth. “You are the most sinfully delicious fruit I've ever tasted. As if your blood alone didn't already tempt me."
"Is it enough?" you inquire. "…enough blood, I mean?"
"There's no such thing" he says. "but… I have an idea of how to encourage more out of you." His fingers graze down your belly and knead at the skin of your pelvic bone again. The motion indirectly pulling the hood of your clit back and forth.
You moan unabashedly and your spine contorts, begging once again for his hand to go lower. This time, he obliges and uses two slender fingers to tease the contours of your vulva. When they slip between your folds, a silent cry hitches in the back of your throat. He probes at your entrance gently at first, pushing just barely deeper than before with every motion. You writhe against him, trying to remind yourself to breathe.
Normally you would savor such attentive foreplay, but right now it's torturous. It’s overwhelming to even watch what he’s doing; your eyes keep fluttering shut. Every time his fingers delve deeper your desire swells greater. When his knuckles finally brush against your ass, he curls his two fingers inside you over and over, quickly. They rub firmly against your sensitive upper walls, dragging more slickness out of you.  
The sudden pressure and intensity in his movements surprises you. It moves you to open your eyes just long enough to find his own. His gaze holds you down, you feel almost charmed, petrified, dominated. Unable to look away. Rutilant eyes stare deeply back at you while he possesses you – they hold so much intensity and desire, all while focused on you.
It leaves you a bit awestruck, to have him both create and witness your ecstasy. To know you. The moment feels unexpectedly intimate until his hypnotic eyes finally release you.
His mouth joins his hand, immediately working your clit with persistence while his fingers pump inside you. You gasp, and a laugh of disbelief bubbles out of you. The combination of touches makes you feel delirious. His tongue roves over you mercilessly and his hand quickens its pace. Every muscle in your body is taut and frozen in fire. Your eyes find the stars when you feel yourself start to come apart on his fingers.
"Please don't stop," you cry quietly.
He doesn't. His fingers continue to stretch your walls and thrust against your core, tongue quick and unceasing against your pert clit. Tears well up in your eyes as the intensity of sensation builds to a white crescendo.  It falls over you like glass shattering in slow motion. He groans against your pussy as you come, undoubtedly feeling it clench desperately around his hand. It’s so intense you can’t help but cry out and grasp wildly at his back. You don’t care if your voice reaches the campsite. He slows his movements to keep rhythm with you as you ride out your orgasm.
“Such a pretty voice you have,” he removes his fingers and kisses the inside of your thighs.
He makes sure you're looking when he brings his digits to his mouth and licks the red stain clean from them. There’s no hesitation in the action, he laps your blood from his fingers as if it's honey, or spilled wine. He licks your center again too, purely for his own gain now, just for the taste.
“Gods,” You shudder at his touch, still hypersensitive from the climax he wrought through you.
A little less clouded, your vision sharpens on his form. You admire how striking he looks below you. Shirtless, broad shoulders holding the weight of your thighs. Pale moonlight painting every muscle. Your eyes pathing from his sharp collar bones down to his toned navel. He looks so beautiful. Already, you desire him again. More of him. Your eyes land on his cock, still erect and straining against his trousers. 
“That was amazing,” you finally manage to say. “I don’t think I’ll ever have another experience quite like that one.”
“I certainly don’t think so either,” he looks proud of himself. “But must we speak of it in the past-tense already?”
“You’re right. I misspoke.” Your foot gently drags over his clothed erection, in case your interest isn’t clear.
He looks at you knowingly and brings a hand to his waistband.
“Oh, good,” he smiles and unwraps himself from the fabric. "You’ll tell me if it’s uncomfortable, right?"
You nod. “Just start slow, if you can?”
Your eyes widen at his exposed length. His cock is longer and thicker than you'd expected, which is saying something since your imagination was already kind to him. Filthy anticipation coils inside of you.
“Of course. I already intended to take my time,” he whispers lowly.
He hooks his palms under your knees and pulls you apart for him. His body looms over you and the head of his cock grazes your entrance, teasing you with every microscopic movement. He rocks against you in little pulses that make you whine and twist impatiently. He starts to enter you, a little deeper with each push, teasing you just like he did with his fingers, driving you insane.
You can’t take much more, mewling underneath him while he torments you. Fully withdrawing with every stroke, the tip of his cock re-penetrates you over and over in an agonizing tempo. Shallowly fucking you with disciplined control. Before long though, you see his expression start to lose composure.
He straightens up to a kneeling position and beckons you to lift your lower body up to meet him.
“Feet on the ground, darling,” he orders you sweetly.
He scoops you up by your ass and levels your entrance with his cock again. Your upper back still lies on the ground, your body in a half bridge pose, fully exposed to him.
He hoists you against him and sheaths himself inside of you, finally forgoing the teasing. You nearly scream at the sudden weight of him inside you, stretching your entire depth. His hands pull you up and down on his cock, thumbs tickling the inside of your hipbones where he grips you tightly. You lose yourself again as he fucks you, overwhelmed with elation and disbelief.
Astarion groans obscenely. You notice he’s transfixed on watching himself impale you, gradually painting his cock with your cordial. His eyebrows furrow seriously and his mouth falls slightly open, drinking in the sight. He seems to lose himself too, and you find yourself with your full back against the ground again, his body covering you, still inside you.
“You still smell so irresistible.” A hand finds the base of your skull and clutches at your hair. He pulls and forces you to bear your neck for him. It sends a little jolt of fear through your body initially, but you relax into his grasp after a moment.
“Can't get enough?” you ask, just barely managing to show some cheek. He continues to fuck you gently through the exchange. Were his strokes any closer together, it wouldn’t be possible to form words.
“Never,” he hisses against your ear.
His lips graze down your throat, pausing to hover just above where he always drinks from you. “May I?”
“Do it,” you plead.
His fangs tease your skin for several more strokes before they finally drive through you, and as soon as they pierce your skin he fucks you faster. His cock beats against your walls again and again. He moans desperately into your neck while he bleeds you. You’d call the sound pathetic, were it not for the way his teeth held you down like a predator killing its prey. Your cunt clenches around him tightly in response, mirroring his jaws.
The wound to your neck is just barely endurable at first, but it starts dissolving into pleasure almost instantly. Now coupled with the adrenaline of having sex with him, the feeling is near mind-altering. It hypnotizes you.
He drinks from you hungrily, sucking and gulping you down every few seconds. The wet sound of him swallowing can be heard right underneath your ear. You both whimper frantically into each other, ecstasy building quickly. His cock starts to hit you harder, stretch you wider. He unlatches himself from your neck, gasping for air. Blood drips from his lips and down his chin when you see his face. His pupils are blown out. It looks as though he’s trying to form words but they won’t escape his mouth.
He only manages a, “Gods… I’m…” before stuttering out a loud groan, abandoning his thought and dignity. You can feel him throb inside you eagerly, struggling against your muscles squeezing him in as he climaxes. He thrusts into you wildly a few more times before shuddering and cautiously falling into you.
His body covers you for a short moment, your chests rising and falling into each other as you both catch your breath. He then rolls himself off of you and lies by your side.  
“Apologies” he breathes out heavily, wiping blood from his jaw. “I lost myself there for a moment… I’m infertile, so no need to worry. But I should have told you.”
“That’s okay,” you whisper. You’d barely considered it - too drunk on pleasure to think rationally.
The sweet earthy aroma of the dampened grass drifts into your nostrils. Lying there naked, sticky and sweaty, anxiety slowly starts to creep back under your skin. No doubt this could complicate things going forward… especially if your attraction goes beyond the physical like you suspect.
You hear a wet sound beside you and turn your head to see Astarion licking his palm. His eyes meet you while he sucks at the skin between his thumb and index finger. He smiles and, to your surprise, gently pulls you into him. The smell of savory herbs and citron tickles your nose; his scent is already growing to feel familiar.
“I’d like to share a little more of your heat, if it’s alright with you,” he says quietly. His lips brush the hairs on your head.
“I’m happy to share,” you say through a smile, secretly delighted to be curled up in his chest.
His fingers trace your back lazily and you reflect on the past two nights (mostly this one). As amazing as tonight has been, the fear of your feelings growing stronger from this gnaws at you. But you gather the courage to push your insecurities aside. Testing the waters with a little suggestion:
“Provided we don’t die from being turned into mind flayers or some other horrors, I think we should do this again next month.”
You feel him smile against your crown.
“Why wait until next month?”
~END~
Thank you for reading :>
2K notes · View notes
cmoundiamante · 13 days
Text
OWN LITTLE P*RN STAR ✦ P.SH
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pairing professor!sunghoon x afab!reader
summary Making porn videos was your job, dedicating each one of those to your professor was a feeling. He watched those videos one by one, but that was a coincidence.
genre smut, college!au, one shot
warnings age gap (psh 37. reader 23), petnames (honey, good girl, doll, bitch, babe.), reader is a pornstar, idols mentions, masturbation, use of sex toys, squirting, sex tape, swearing, dirty talk, nipple play, daddy kink, blowjob, titsjob, spanking, unprotected sex, cowgirl, doggy, creampie.
a/n hello everyone!! BTW TYSM FOR THE 100 FOLLOWERS YALL ARE THE BEST. here is what u ask for, tbh i get horny writing this, i hope u too (; also i wanna explain something about the taglist, there were some blogs that i couldn’t tag idk why, so i will just send a message to the person who asked it with the link of the os. i remind u, english is not my first language so pls be kind (: any correction will be considered, not only to improve reading but also for my learning ^^ don’t forget to reblog or leave a comment 🩶 IMPORTANT there was a misunderstanding when i said i was going to delete it,i meant that i was going to delete the taglist (which had a lot of notes, that's why I put the link of the os there, tysm btw🥹), I'M NOT GOING TO DELETE THE ONE SHOT.
wc +5,1k
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Your legs were shaking from your third orgasm. The vibrator stimulated your clit forming convulsions all over your body, you had a knot tied in your stomach that you were soon going to untie. You moaned in the hottest way you could to satisfy the viewer, talking dirty and screaming at the overstimulation. Your eyes rolled back, yet you were the only one who could appreciate and feel that. "Daddy, I'm co-" without being able to finish the sentence, you came undone for last time, at the same time the most pornographic moan that could be heard in that video, being unable to properly spin a sentence to say goodbye, so you simply turned off the camera, which could have almost been ruined by being soaked in your liquids.
The body tiredness you had was dominating your whole body, but you couldn't leave everything dirty now, you were grateful that you did it on the floor instead of on the mattress. Naked as you were, you grabbed the mop and began to wipe away the moisture you had left behind, until it was completely dry and odorless. You put on your pajamas, wanting to sleep, but you had something to do first, which was to study for your biology exam.
There were 2 weeks left for that exam, but it depended on your life to pass it, the professor of that subject was one of the most demanding in your university, so it was convenient for you to study.
You made porn videos, but you also had another kind of future planned, a bit ironic isn't it? No one knew about this part of your life, not your family, not anyone from that community, not your best friend, absolutely no one. The idea came one completely random day when you were ovulating, you came up with the idea of recording yourself masturbating, clearly without showing your face, and uploading that video to PornHub. You didn't expect that video to have the views it did, but thanks to that video you kept doing it , you started to generate income, you bought more materials and sex toys to also make other types of content. But it was just your secret.
You opened the biology book and started reading the concepts you had to learn for your exam. You liked that subject, but you liked your teacher better. It wasn't just the need to get good grades to make him proud of you, but you also wanted to get his attention somehow.
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The next morning, when you opened your eyes, you realized that you had fallen asleep studying, you were so sleepy that you didn't realize where you had finished reading. When you saw the time you didn't wake up, as you were lucky to have woken up at a time when you had time to get ready to leave. On your way to college you went the whole trip with headphones, from the time you got on the bus to the time you sat at your desk, waiting for your best friend to arrive, who by the way, hadn't answered your messages since yesterday afternoon.
The students were coming in and your friend wasn't coming, so you decided to send her a message.
you: bitch, where the fuck are u now?
bestie🩵: IM OMW
bestie🩵: i just woke up, i wasn't home and i fell asleep late last night
you: where have u been?
bestie🩵: …
bestie🩵: wait for me to get there
When your friend arrived it wasn't long after that message, but she only got a glance from literature professor, Jake. "Did you see the time, miss?" your friend shrugged. "My apologies, sir." You knew her well enough to recognize that she was weird. She sat down at the desk in front of you, put her backpack on the floor, and turned to look at you. "I did something wrong yesterday." Her face looked frightened. "But I don't regret about anything."
"What? Did you kill someone?" she shook her head. "Bitch, you didn't tell me anything, what have you done?" she looked around to make sure no one was listening to her conversation. To all this you thought, how serious was what she did? "Professor Sim." there's no way. "Girl, don't tell me that-" "I slept with him." On the one hand you felt happy for her, it was her platonic love since you both entered college together. You opened your mouth showing surprise even though you already knew how the sentence was going to finish, however she didn't let you speak, re-limiting something. "If I could do it, so could you."
"Nah, he's yours, thank you so much for the offer anyway." "Who told you it was going to be with Jake?" she subconsciously screamed, capturing stares from some of your classmates, thankfully not Jake's. You gave her a light blow on the arm. "I've seen you look at Professor Park during class," she whispered near you. "You eat his bulge with your eyes."
You laughed, agreeing with her. "Maybe... Anyway, it's just an erotic desire." The two of you were shameless to talk about these kinds of topics in public, but you were both willing to break the taboo. "If I were him I'd fuck you, you're too sexy just to exist." you smiled covering your cheeks. "You flatter me."
"Okay, speaking about Sunghoon, how are you doing with your studies?" As you listened to her talk, you opened your backpack to take out your belongings and put them on top of the desk. "I have it under control, but I have a question about some concept." Your friend, who was practically doing the same thing as you, gave you a mischievous look. "You already have an excuse to go see him today." Jake's voice was present in the classroom, you saw your friend startled, but when you realized it you noticed how Jake's eyes fell on her, having a peculiar gleam.
These two…
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You walked through the empty hallways of the place wishing that the principal wouldn’t see you walking there, as you could be scolded for not being in the classroom during class hours. The professors room had a window overlooking the hallway, the blinds in the distance seemed to be closed, but when you got closer you noticed that they were not closed at all, so you peeked through the small strip that showed the inside of the room, and there you noticed his silhouette, you recognized him the moment you saw him.
You looked away from his computer and were perplexed for a few seconds before reacting again, because you never thought that one of your professors would be watching your videos, much less in a place like a university. You paid attention to your video and realized that it was the one you had dedicated to him, ‘thinking about my teacher while I cum’ Was it a coincidence? You didn't know it, but what you did know is that the heat quickly went down to your core. Again, your eyes moved to his arm, which even though it was with his back to you, you could see how he was making movements, letting you know that he was touching himself.
You didn't want to interrupt him, but your questions were also important, so you knocked on the door. You waited a few long seconds for him to open the door, and when your eyes met you didn't hesitate to scan him as well as possible in a few seconds, to see what you had done to him. The first thing you both connected were your eyes, which by some rays of light that came through the windows you could tell that his pupils were dilated, his characteristic pale cheeks were tinged with crimson red, his clothes were a little out of place but there you stopped, you didn't want to go any lower. Chances are, if you hadn't seen that scene, you wouldn't have paid the slightest bit of attention to what Sunghoon looked like now. "Miss Y/S" Damn, your last name came out so sexy coming out of her mouth.
"Do I interrupt something? I just wanted to know if I could ask you something about the exam." That question was misleading considering you'd seen everything. "Not at all, wanna come in?" you nodded. He opened the door wider and stepped aside to let you in, you saw that his computer was closed, but the same thought invaded your mind constantly, so you couldn't stop smiling. "Take a seat, please." He grabbed one of the chairs that was above the table and pulled it back so that you sit down, by inertia, you agreed to his gentlemanly behavior, followed by that he took a seat in front of you. In your hands was the big biology book that Professor Park made you read, grandly you only had to read the first 100 pages for this exam.
"I have a query about neurons." You started turning the pages of the book, getting to the section you needed. "You need to be more specific." that he sits in front of you was completely in vain, as he stood up again to get behind you. You felt his warmth emanating from his body when his hand landed on your shoulder, yet he didn't notice you, but what you saw in the book. "Unless you don't understand anything about neurons." You've found the neuron schema page you've been looking for. "I wanted to know how the chemical signals of neurons work."
"Okay, listen." He put his index finger on top of the outline. You didn't deny it, his finger was also attractive. How you wished it was inside you. "When the electrical signal reaches the axon terminal of a neuron, it stimulates the release of special chemicals. Do you remember what those are called?” "No." "Don't answer that fast, think about it." his minty breath slammed into your ear, sending shivers down your spine, and also automatically reminding you of the answer to the question Park asked you. "Neurotransmitters." he smiled sideways. "Well done. They then move in the synapses to the other neurons, and in that way it stimulates or perceives the..." At this point you just listened attentively as he explained it to you because his voice sounded sensual doing it and to his hand, of which you didn't think any wrong thoughts.
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You had to repeat your way through the corridors, you couldn't go to sleep without first studying a whole concept and understanding everything, this was the case, you understood absolutely everything, but you wanted to pretend that you didn't to have an excuse to see him again and fantasize about him. You went to the professors room, the window blinds were open, but you didn't see anyone inside the room. You also went in to look for the schedule of teachers, looking for Professor Park's name. His schedule said he was now teaching in Course F.
Again you walked through the corridors, making sure no other teacher was in the same place as you, but you felt a hand on your shoulder as you climbed the stairs. "You can't be here, Miss Y/S" although it was a petty scolding, it was to the person you were looking for. "I was actually looking for you." When he looked down and saw that you were with the book again, he gave a slight laugh. "More doubts?" you nodded embarrassedly, he started looking around and gestured for you to follow him. You finished climbing the steps and to your surprise, you both didn't went the classroom that Sunghoon was assigned to be in now, you were in a completely empty one. He left his briefcase on top of the desk and sat down in front of it, legs spread and letting you have any imagination free.
"Don't you have a class to teach?" you walked over and put your book on the same desk on which he floored his briefcase, waiting for him to refuse to leave you alone now. "They can wait a few minutes, plus you can tell you're working hard, you deserve it." You grabbed a chair and sat down in front of him, but you didn't realize that you had put the chair too close, causing your legs to almost rub against each other. "Thank you." you expressed gratitude, no remorse that there are people losing class time because of a teacher who is wasting their time with you. "Your voice is known to me from somewhere." When you heard that, you couldn't help but stare at him, feeling the blood boil and expand throughout your body.
"What do you mean, sir?" By the way, you said the same nickname you used for the video he was watching the other day. Sunghoon covered his mouth to cough, but you sensed his nerves. "That doesn't matter, let's mov-" "Who do I remind you of?" I stare into your eyes letting a silence invade the area uncomfortably, he smiled and let out a faint cynical laugh, leaving you somewhat confused. Your face changed completely. "Do you think I didn't notice?" He was playing the innocent for all this time and you didn't realize it, he recognized you. "What are you talking about?" he interrupted. "SluttyMila, isn't you?" he mentioned your porn name, getting up from the chair and getting close, very close to you. You already knew that this moment could happen, but for some reason you kept trembling under his intimidating gaze. "I don't know what are you talking about." Your voice trembled. "Don't you know what I'm talking about? your voice, the mole on your collarbone, the shape of your body, the way you said ‘sir’... I've paid attention to the smallest detail."
He came closer to you spreading your legs with one of his, your chin was caught by his hands, in that instant you felt captured by him. "Every damn video naming me, isn't it? Do you wanna fuck your teacher?" he asked. You started to feel a little drunk, feeling the need to open up, to tell him all your sins. "Maybe, sir..." "You need to be more specific." It took you a while to answer. "Yes, sir." even though your gaze didn't lower, the metallic sound made you realize that he was unbuckling his belt. "Nice to meet you, SluttyMila."
"Nice to meet this side of you." You tried to lose the embarrassment by helping him with his pants, starting to pull down the fly to meet his boxers, decorated with an aura of wetness in those, clearly caused by you. "Can I help you with something?" the hand resting on your chin began to massage your cheek, then his eyes disconnected from you for a quick glance at the hallways. The two of you were on the top floor of the whole building, which is normally the one where there are fewer courses and fewer people wandering around, so you weren't going to waste the moment. He looked at you again. "Maybe I can help you with something." Your attention was focused on him as you heard him say that. You never really focused your attention on anything other than him, his hands, his shapely face, his moles, how his bulge is marked when he turns on his side... But you couldn't miss the opportunity to have him as close as you are now, you were able to access everything he tells you. "What is it?"
"Make money." His words fell on you like a bucket of cold water one by one. "Let's make a sex tape together."
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Your doorbell rang, so you stopped dealing with the direction of the camera and went open the door. It was Saturday, that day you pleasantly accepted Professor Park's proposal and you decided to get together today to make your… video. You were dressed in a semi-open white shirt, a blue plaid mini skirt and a blue tie, and obviously the outfit had to show a lot of skin. When you opened the door and Sunghoon saw you dressed like this, he couldn't hold back leaving his mouth shut. "You're gonna catch flies." A professor coming to your house was already frowned upon, it would be much more frowned upon if people knew why they came to your house.
"You look magnificent." was all he could say. "Are you serious, or do you mean it because I'm half-naked?" you stepped aside, letting the man into your house. You were always careful about who you let into your house, something you learned from your mother is to always be on the lookout for the man's next move, but he was a special case, and it felt the same way when your hands started brushing against him while inspecting the house. "You really are very pretty, Miss T/S." he held the hand you tried to touch him with, planting a tender kiss on the back. "Or should I call you Mila?"
"Not yet, unless you want to start now." He clearly realized the attitude switch you had. At home you were very provocative, bold, you probably had the audacity to do many more things that you refused to do at school. "I wouldn't want to wait knowing that you tortured me all week, honey." He was right, during the whole week it was nothing more than passionate kisses and a rubbing of private parts, the rest was taken care of separately by each one at home. The steps you were taking took him further and further back, getting very close to the couch where you guys were going to record. He subconsciously fell on top of the couch, so you took advantage and sat on top of his lap.
"What do we have to do?" his mischievous hand planted itself on one of your thighs, caressing you. "Have sex, we're just going to be filmed. Be free to do whatever you want with my body." You began to unbutton your tie. "It's the least I can do to keep you waiting a long time." When he noticed, he noticed the black lingerie you were wearing underneath your white shirt, which was showing through.
"The camera is already recording, why don't you start?" you whispered in his ear. Your tie slipped over your shirt to end up on the floor, Sunghoon without a second thought caught your lips in a voracious way, but very similar to how he had done the previous times. You felt his sexual devotion when the hand resting on your thigh moved into your bare ass, as the skirt didn't quite cover it.
Even though your back was turned, you knew that the camera was capturing the scene. Sunghoon's hand encouraged you to start moving on top of him even though his bulge was already grown, causing some grunts from him. Your tongue caught all his senses, there's no place in Sunghoon's mouth that your tongue hasn't gone through, it was an avalanche of lust. "Turn around."
You listened to him, making your back touch his abdomen. Sunghoon's tongue didn't stop making contact with your body, he kept biting and sucking on your neck as if his life depended on it. His teeth were so white and shiny and his fangs sharp, now you knew how they felt on your skin. The hands you always dreamed of approached the buttons of your shirt, slowly unbuttoning them to leave you exposed with your black lingerie, which if you were really honest, if you saw from the camera you could see how your hard nipples through the fabric.
"Are you wearing this for me?" the shirt fell off your shoulders leaving you bare-chested, Professor Park brought his hand up to your mouth and had you suck on his index finger, resting it back on your already hard nipples. You were so focused on how his hands were working that you subconsciously forgot to answer his question. "I bet you do." your arms were handcuffed by his body, leaving him completely unable to do anything.
The hand that was on your hip went down, starting to fiddle with the hem of your miniskirt. "Touch me," you demanded desperately. "What did you say?" you felt a slight pain in your scalp, not realizing that Sunghoon's hand left your abdomen, to focus on exerting force on your hair. "Touch me, please," you repeated. "Where are your manners? Is that how your parents taught you to ask for-?" "Daddy, please." you interrupted. Your eyes stared at the camera in front of you, watching a smirk form on Sunghoon's face. "Good girl."
He freed your hair and automatically his hand slipped into your skirt, but instead of going up, he reached for the bottom, lifting the fabric. The panties were made of the same fabric as the bra, forcing Sunghoon to visualize your pelvis through the camera. Without thinking much about it, he put his hand under the fabric to start massaging you, sliding his fingers and surprised by the ease of how they moved. "We didn't do much, are you really that wet?" your mouth let out nothing but incoherent sounds that sweetened Sunghoon's ear. "Yeah..." That was all you could say.
He continued to rub against the outside of your pussy and then focused your attention on your clit, generating more sounds coming from your mouth. "Daddy... Just like that." You turned your head to see him, but you had no reaction when you felt his kisses back against your lips. Now it wasn't just the nipple where he massaged his finger, but the entirety of your breast.
The movements were becoming more constant and your legs were shaking like jelly. "Don't cum yet, honey." It was hard if you kept up that pace, plus you had already overheated yourself, there was no way to hold back an ejaculation. The finger that was on your clitoris happened to be inside you while her thumb replaced it.
He kept playing you and the rhythm was speeding up. As you continued to sit on his lap, his bulge rubbing against your lower part was present. You smiled, but if you didn't want to come you had to think fast, and the only thing that came out was: "Let me take care of you." He looked at you, enough to inspect your entire face, it took him a while to leave you but luckily for you, he agreed.
His grip eased, and when you tried to stand up your legs were weak, but you still managed to accommodate the camera. When you knelt down, his eyes connected, and without taking your eyes off him you began to unbuckle his belt, and then took it off and put it on top of the chair. Then you opened the fly to find his black boxers, unfortunately you couldn't notice the stains of precum, but you could notice the great relief that his length created. You pulled down his boxers and that came out excited to be captured by your mouth. "You’re so big," you whispered. You appreciated it for a while, pulling out some features. It was not very wide, it was extremely long, his pelvis was hairless, and his tip was baby pink colored, decorated with that viscous liquid that his excitement caused.
Tongue working on his dick and your hands using his balls as a squeeze. "Good girl, keep it up." I was cursing you inside for tease him so much, yet he felt like he was in heaven. "You're being so good to me." You felt a metallic noise from behind Sunghoon, you already knew what it was. 'The belt' was the first thing that came to mind. You didn't want to look at what he was doing, but when you least expected it, a burning in your left buttock startled you. But there was nothing to stop you now, it was still a pleasurable burning.
One of the things you were disgusted with was swallowing the cum, so when you started to feel him close, instead of using your mouth, you tucked him length between your bra-covered tits to masturbate him. You looked at the camera and bit your lip, living it and seeing it from another perspective, at the same time warmed you up enough to start rubbing yourself against the floor. Another lash accompanied by a kiss came as a surprise, causing both mouths to mingle your grunts.
In the middle of the kiss you felt a liquid spread over your breasts, although you were curious to see what it looked like, you couldn't tear yourself away from Sunghoon's soft lips, who refused to let you go. The belt? you didn't know where it was because Professor Park put his hands on your cheeks, making you understand that he wasn't holding anything, but that wasn't really of interest to you now.
Without separating yourself from the kiss you removed his dick from your breasts and climbed back into his lap, the kisses went down to your neck, where he had already left his marks, but you needed more of them. Below you was still his biggest friend, who to your surprise had become hard again. You moved at the same rate as your teacher's lips moved, causing the tip to brush against your entrance through your panties.
The hands that were on your cheeks, went towards your ass, massaging it in circles to be seen by the camera. You didn't really know if you could see the scene then, because you didn't even get up to set up the camera, but you needed to enjoy it to the fullest without having any worries.
No matter how hard you tried to reach him, his needy lips parted from you. You felt overwhelmed having his heavy gaze on you, your mouth wouldn't close from taking puffs of air, you felt so intimidated that you just lowered your head, trying to hide from him. "You look gorgeous breathless." Those words came into your system generating pleasure in your clit, which was rubbing against his penis. "Do I?" he chuckled. "Of course you do." You were going to have to cut these parts if you were actually going to upload the video. You wanted to have these clips just for you.
"Are you ready to feel even better?" Even with your head down, he could see your smile. One of her hands moved from your ass to your cunt, to drag the fabric that covered it and line up his pink tip at your entrance. "I'm ready, da- oh shit." buried himself inside you without warning. Without complaining, you started to get used to his length, which didn't take long to stimulate your g-spot. Your hands rested on his shoulders so as not to throw you off balance, raising and lowering your body so that finally the two of you are one. You seem to squeeze him so well that he let out his first moans.
"You’re squeezing me too much, doll." Sunghoon's hands grabbed your thighs to help you move, your skins clashing creating a rhythmic and constant noise, also being harmonized by Sunghoon's grunts and your moans. "Fuck my pussy just li-fuck." you felt just like all the videos you dedicated to him multiplied by a thousand, really his dick was better than any thought, than any fucking sex toy, than any finger fucking session you could ever have.
You couldn't think coherently because of the wonders his cock was doing inside you. You rested your head on the hand resting on Sunghoon's shoulder, holding back the fact that you were close, squeezing Sunghoon's dick more than you should, who, by the way, knew a lot about body language and had noticed. "C’mon slut, you can take it a while longer." The movements quickened and your moans increased in volume without stunning Sunghoon, instead he enjoyed them more than any other female moan. His thrusts got harder and harder, you squeezed him harder, and the patience Park had for you was over.
Your body was quite small compared to his, so it was easy for him to manipulate it. You didn't understand at what point you were left on all fours, motionless by your arms chained by Sunghoon's and your hunched back. Your moans came out easily in this position, you felt that the way he touched your sweet spot was different.
You turned your head to see the camera, but it was impossible with your hairs covering your face, however through them you could see the silhouette of Sunghoon making you his property. Ever since you started college you've been longing for this moment. Sunghoon was your biology teacher every year since you started college, you prayed day and night that the following year you would have him back as a teacher, no sooner said than done, the universe listened to you and gave you the luxury of seeing him every week. You couldn't help but let out a moan.
Sunghoon let go of your arms and with his buried your head in the soft fabric of the couch, hiding you and drowning out your moans. You chewed on the cloth trying to avoid making too much noise, but you were confused by not feeling the same pace as before. "Bitches that don't moan don't deserve dick, do they?" As much as his hand pressed against your head, his deep voice managed to convince you to let go of the fabric that was between your teeth, this caused Park to speed up again, making you squirm.
"Gonna fill up this cunt so bad." His free hand squeezed your ass, while the other let go of your hair's grip. "You are my own little porn star, don't you?" you nodded, moaning faintly 'yes', which stupidly came out of your mouth. "This ain’t gonna be the last time babe." His rhythm wasn't the same as before, but when he put it in he made sure that its tip rubs against your g-spot and his pelvis makes that noise of clashing against your ass. "Daddy..." you looked back over your shoulders and saw that Sunghoon had the camera in his hands, recording the scene from his perspective. You really didn't feel like uploading that video just on the whim of being the only one who owns it. "I'm gonna cum soon."
His hand gave you red marks on your ass, which would soon turn into bruises. Your weak arms stretched out on either side of the couch, rolling back your eyes while Sunghoon was inside you. He tried to hold the camera properly but it was impossible to record straight as he twisted inside you. "Make me cum," he said in a whisper, but enough so that it can be heard clearly in the video. "Make me fucking cum, c'mo-fuck," he repeated, causing you to finally untie your knot and come without warning, tightening its length. He gave a few more thrusts, and along with a long groan, painted your walls white. "Fuck.."
He gave a few too many thrusts and then pulled his penis out of you. The camera went in the direction of your cunt, which was dripping the cum that Park had pumped inside you, he opened it a little wider so that he had a better view, causing a few drops of his own liquid to fall on top of the fabric of the couch.
He cut the recording, it was the moment when the heat was over to start the aftercare section. "You were amazing." You kept turning your back on him, so he started planting kisses on your bare shoulders. "You don't need to study anymore."
“What?”
“You passed the exam.”
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– taglist ₊ ˖ ་. @nxzz-skz @weyukinluv @amortenha @hoons-gf @luvyev @moonshoon @itgirlalisaa @tobiosbbyghorl @soobinzzwallet @novajady @pprodsuga @taehyunsfavmoa @pnkified @tasnim10 @sparklovespink @kgneptun @imyourjoy0 @ilvho06 @ilvho06 @capri-cuntz @kimseungminswifey @v3lv3tsin @enhasnuggles @sunoo-dior @ineedsomezzz @saintriots @japieeey
– gif credits ₊ ˖ ་. @/enteez
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babyleostuff · 16 days
Text
when you call them your husband | ot13
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❥ seungcheol 
goes through five stages of a mental breakdown, because what did you just call him??? if you ever called him your husband in front of people, cheol would turn into a stuttering mess with cheeks as red as a tomato. if you did it when you were by yourselves he’d start whining like a bitch, getting shy as hell, because why are you messing with his heart like that? on rare days, though, he’d embrace the husband figure and start calling you “wife” and make you shy
❥ jeonghan 
so smug - no one would be able to wipe that studpid ass smirk off of his face. it does mess with him a bit, though, because come on - calling him your husband??? but he’d try his best to act unaffected, because it’s jeonghan, and he needs to be cool :))) (i’m going to repeat this so many times throughout this headcanon, but all of them would start to freak out a bit thinking about a day when this won’t be a joke anymore, hannie included)
❥ joshua 
is he really surprised when you call him your husband? not really. he knows he’s a husband material, and you often make jokes about him being your husband anyways. that doesn’t mean he isn’t freaking about it on the inside, though, because no matter how many times you call him that as a silly little joke, it still makes him so incredibly happy that one day, he’ll really be your husband, and you won’t be calling him that as a joke anymore
❥ jun 
one of the “turns into a shy, blushy, and a stuttering mess” squad. he’d malfunction at first, point at himself, and melt into a puddle of fluff, and love. one - how dare you call him your literal husband as a joke??? second - give him all the kisses, and hugs, because his first instincts is to run away, and break out in tears from all the love. he doesn’t really know what to do with himself after you say that word, but you can be sure it’ll be in his head for the rest of the day 
❥ hoshi 
soonyoung would be confused for a second, because “wait, are you talking about me?” and when he’d finally understand that, yes - you were talking about him (because who else would you be talking about), he’d get so smiley and giggly and shy, and just turn into the cutest bean. he’d immediately cling to you, wrapping his arms around you and trapping you in a warm hug, giggling like a maniac
❥ wonwoo 
cue shy wonwoo with his lil cat smile. he can’t help the butterflies fluttering in his tummy, and as much as he’d want to tease you for calling him your husband, he’d be too shy to actually do it. you calling him that would make him so happy for some reason, even though he knows that you mainly do it as a prank or a joke to mess with him. don’t do it in front of people, though, or he’ll run away
❥ woozi 
“anything for you, baby.” woozi always indulges in all of your silly antics and jokes, and this time it’d be no different. he’d try to act as unaffected as he could, but his acting skills are not always the best, so you’d still be able to catch a glimpse of a small smile and blushy cheeks. he isn't the type to think about marriage, kids, and your domestic future together, he prefers to focus on what you have now, but hearing that word coming from you, would make his heart flutter a bit faster
❥ dk 
“yes, i am.” smiles cutely at you, and gives you a bone crushing hug, while freaking the fuck out on the inside. he won’t comment on it too much in the moment, but the way he’d be extra clingy throughout the day, giving you ten times more kisses, and hugs, and pouts, and any physical affection. the thought of becoming your husband some day is so??? because it will happen someday, and that’s kind of crazy
❥ mingyu 
cue mingoo giggles, because that man would not be able to behave himself after hearing the word husband from you. will whine, smile, laugh, hug you, pick you up and spin you around like a lovesick teenager, and when he finally calms down, he’d give you the biggest smooch. even though you had marriage talks plenty of times before - you both knew you’d get married some time in the feature, hearing it from you - saying it so casually, messed with his heart so much 
❥ minghao 
as someone who has mentioned a couple of times before that he wants to get married, hearing the word “husband” coming from you would make him so so happy and giddy, to the point where he’d just stand there with a lovesick smile on his face, and the urge to hug and kiss the life out of you (he wouldn’t though, he has to keep his composure) (but don’t worry, he’d kiss your forehead and tell you how much he loves you) (all with an adorable blush covering his cheeks)
❥ seungkwan 
turns into a shy and blushy mess. seungkwan’s first instinct is to hide his face in his hands or your neck, so you wouldn’t see the effect that the word had on him (even though you could clearly see how it affected him). then he’d probably proceed to yell at you (lovingly) for making such mean jokes (he wants to be your husband now, boyfriend is not enough)
❥ vernon 
at first he would think that he had misheard you, so you’d have to repeat the word two or three more times, because why would you ever call him your husband? and when you’d clarify that, yes - you did say the word “husband”, and yes - it was directed to him, vernon would just stare at you with big eyes but no thoughts. you’d laugh at him immediately, because the lack of his reaction was even funnier than if he’d react. then he’d say “thank you” and proceed with the rest of his day with the word “husband” floating around his head
❥ chan 
leechan.exe has stopped working. looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes, pointing at himself, as if he was asking if you were really talking about him. it’s so crazy to him that you’d call him that even as a joke, because hearing the word “husband” coming from you is??? hello??? and the fact that someday he’ll really be your husband??? you can expect chan to be a bit more clingy than he usually is (a bit more pouty too, because what do you mean you called him that as a joke?)
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lilacsinjuly · 2 months
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slow down for me.
choso x reader.
summary:
i saw this tik tok about choso being able to stay hard forever and immediately started to write lmao. choso using his technique to stay hard so he can fuck you all night long<3
c/w: fem reader, kinda dom but mainly sub choso, riding, multiple rounds, overstimulation, choso’s blood manipulation, choking, hair pulling, alludes to m!recieving oral at the end, mating press position, choso whimpering *drools*, choso’s a menace tbh.
word count: 1.3k
likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.
-`♡´-
“Shit, baby. Can you slow down for me?”
For the past two hours, Choso had been drilling into you and filling you up non-stop. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him, sucking him in like you needed him just as much as he needed you.
Choso couldn’t physically hold himself back. The minute he first entered you, he knew he’d have you in all sorts of positions before he stopped - even if it meant he was immensely overstimulated and in need of a pause. You didn’t think anything would stop him apart from the agreed upon safe word, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to wanting to stop either.
The minute he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim, he’d simply make himself hard again and continue to pound himself inside of you.
He was currently panting in your ear, and in contrast to the forceful and dominating thrusts, he couldn’t help back his whines from slipping past his lips. The noises falling into your ears made you tighten around him and bring your hands to tug on his hair in the exact way he likes it.
”C-can’t, feels, mmphh, so good-“
He had your legs over his shoulders as he pummeled into you, you could feel your mind slipping away as long as the ability to walk in the morning. Your legs were aching, yet there was nothing that could take your mind away from the mind blowing pleasure Choso was bringing you.
There was the familiar smell of sweat and sex in the air, the room was drowning in it. The air felt thick and you were consumed by the repetitive feeling of Choso hitting your sweet spot and the sound of skin slapping against skin - combined with his words and both of your moans.
You brought your hands around to caress his face, taking his cheeks in your hands and lifting his face so it was directly in front of yours.
His lips were pouted and his eyes were half-lidded with a hazed look swimming within them.
Pressing your lips to his, he let out a deep groan and as if spurred on just by your lips, his thrusts grew impossibly faster and harder. You let out a gasp, your hands reaching out for support as they grasped onto his back, nails scratching at the skin.
Your lips were parted and his head was resting against yours. Your breathing matched his as you took in every sound he made. Each whine went straight to your head and made it spin.
You could feel yourself reaching yet another orgasm as if he hadn’t pulled out enough to make you lose count already.
His hips were slowing down and losing their rhythm, indicating that he was also close to climaxing. You captured his lips in yours again, motivating him to keep going.
The two of you finished at the exact same time. Yet somehow, when you regained a stable state of mind, you could feel Choso twitching inside of you - still hard.
You were panting, still trying to regain feeling between your legs and yet he was already ready for another round. You looked at him with disbelief etched into your face yet he simply ignored it.
”One more time,” He kissed your jaw. “ Please just-“ Another kiss underneath your ear. “Just one more, I promise.” He sighed, kissing your cheek and then your neck and finally your lips.
You were exhausted, so close to your limit. But, when he begged you so nicely, how could you have said no? It would have been heartless to leave such a needy and desperate boy unsatisfied.
You pushed his chest away, causing him to flop beside you, before straddling his hips. His dick throbbed against your leg. It was hard and red, screaming to be touched yet also to be left alone.
Teasingly, you dragged your hands up his body causing Choso to close his eyes and sigh whilst also bucking his hands needily upwards.
You said his name in warning and he immediately stopped moving, yet that didn’t prevent his lips from forming a frown. It was cute though, and you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing it. However, it was never just one kiss. Choso brought his hand up to tangle into your hair as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.
You kissed him back whilst also taking his dick into your hand and pressing it into the aching spot between your legs. Without putting it in, you rubbed the tip between your folds and smirked against his lips as he whimpered at the feeling.
The two of you moaned in sync when you slipped his dick inside of you once more.
Lazily, you started to grind up against him and move your hips up and down. The more you moved, the more you needed from him. As if sensing this, Choso snaked his hand to reach in the space between both of your bodies and rubbed his finger against your clit slowly.
You couldn’t help the way your hand reached up his body to grip his neck, and he couldn’t restrain the loud moan from falling between his swollen lips.
The two of you stayed like that, with you bouncing down on his cock with your hand wrapped tightly around his throat and his own hand playing with your pussy.
The feeling was messy, a combination of overwhelming pleasure and overstimulation. Your entire body was begging you to stop, yet your unreasonable and clouded mind saw no reason to.
Not when you peered down at Choso underneath you, who’s breathing was ragged yet there was a smile on his lips and a strange look in his almost-closed eyes.
You were so close to your limit, though, and were certain you’d have to stop soon.
However you knew that, even if you did stop, the next day all it would take would be for Choso to press his aching hard on against you for you to repeat this all over again.
You continued to ride him, your tits bouncing up and down and his other hand reaching to grab at one, pulling and twisting at your nipple.
You were so close. That same feeling from multiple times tonight arising once again where the knot in your stomach was stretching and ready to snap, and the combination of Choso’s hands and his dick hitting you over and over again was enough to send you over the edge.
Collapsing against him, Choso started to thrust upwards into you as you laid against him, taking it all whilst trying to calm down.
His voice was soft and quiet as he started to speak, telling you how good you were to him and how much he loves you.
He kissed the top of your head and thrusted relentlessly up into you, sputtering out quiet moans that you may not have heard had your ear not been next to his mouth.
Moments after your own orgasm, Choso’s followed. Once again, he shot his heavy load up inside of you whilst he whined and tears began forming in his eyes. His fucked you all throughout his orgasm, not stopping until he had given you everything he had.
When he finally stopped, you took a deep sigh of relief, prepared to get up and take a bath.
Yet you stopped in your tracks when you felt his dick, hard, pressing against you. You looked up at him, and smirked.
”Don’t w’nna get up. Can you clean me up with your mouth?”
Choso knew exactly how to get to you. He had you wrapped around his finger and he knew it too well. Just like you knew that it would end up being the death of you, both his seemingly innocent looking eyes peering up at you, begging you for just one more, and that stupid technique of his.
You looked at the man who had finished inside of you many times that night with wide eyes, before shaking your head and laughing to yourself. Of course, you also moved down his body, making sure to kiss every inch, and began to suck at his tip still leaking cum, because you loved him and it was so hard to say no too.
Truthfully, you should have known better than to believe that was the end.
a/n: i will edit another day lol
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needy!drunk!gojo satoru x gn reader-based off this post
synopsis: gojo is a lightweight, vowed to sobriety to keep whatever bit of shame he has left to his name. but he really can't help but take a few shots when he sees you doing the same.
warnings: sub gojo, gn dom reader, both reader and gojo are drunk, gojo's a lightweight, handjob, semi-public sex, he cries-like a lot, he also had nipple piercings bc i couldn't help myself, reader's kinda a hoe, feelings, think that's it
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The warm press of hands against your hips is what makes you gasp. The soft touch of lips traced over your throat is what makes your head spin.
What a delightful feeling. 
What a human desire. 
“Touch me.” 
The room spins around you, the warm feeling of being held making you sigh, leaning into it. The scent of him, the greedy claiming of his presence in your mind. So selfish. Of him not to think of the effect that this has on you. To not care about the war going on in your mind. 
“Touch me, please?” A whine this time. A meek sound, spilling from his lips, making your body light up in return. 
“Satoru,” He practically purrs at his name on your lips. Pathetic. How easily riled up he is. How easily you’re able to make his knees feel weak. How much he loves the sound of your lips forming his name.
“Mmmm, say it again.”His nose sweeps delicately over your neck, working over a heavy sigh as he tries not to get drunk on the smell of your shampoo. Or more drunk than he already is, that is. 
“Your name?” You mutter slowly. 
“Yeah….” His words have been gradually slurring over the span of the night, with the amount of shots he’s taken, with the amount of drinks he’s had. With the inches of space between you closing until there’s nothing between you but the thin layer of clothing that does nothing to hide the bulge he shamelessly presses against you.
Even so, you know that he's always been far beyond measures of shame, but this is a whole new level, the way he continues to press his body impossibly closer to yours, his broad chest against your shoulders, his hips canting against you. 
You’ve always hated how he’s been taller than you, his incessant teasing when he throws you over his shoulder as you yell and pound on his back. He takes advantage of it all too often.
You don’t mind now.
“Why, Satoru?” Maybe you’re cruel for the teasing, for liking your friend’s reactions all too much. Shivering, nearly violently, throbbing against your lower back. 
He whines, “Sounds so…-so much better when you say it. Makes me wanna just…”
His breath is heavy with the scent of alcohol and you’re still not entirely sure how Shoko and Suguru managed to get him to break his vow of sobriety. Not when you’d seen him turning them down for the first bit of the night.
The next time you saw him he was getting dragged along by you, gulping down whatever liquids you shoved into his hands. 
With his feverish hands tracing up your body and his sinful hips pressing against yours. Muttering about how he wanted you and needed you, whispering about things he'd never have said in the harsh reality of day, but was that not the beauty of getting intoxicated beyond belief?
“Hmm? Just what?” 
He simpers, “Wan’ you to touch me, play with me, like I’m just a toy for you~” He grinds slowly and you wish you could kiss him. Kiss him until he’s breathless and red and can’t remember his own name. Dazed and dizzy and muttering gibberish while loosely gripping onto you. 
You don’t think if you’d even have to kiss him to do that right now, but the taste of his perfectly pink lips would just be an added pleasure to this delectable mix.
But you shouldn’t. And you won’t.
Not because he’s your friend and this will surely be crossing some unspoken line.
Or because it’ll throw off the axis of your entire friend group. You'd never let that stop you before. And you wouldn’t let something like that stop you now. Not when you've clumsily pressed your lips to Shoko’s, high out of your mind and hidden under the blanket of dark nights. Or when you let your hands wander along the lengths of Suguru’s skin, promising to make him feel things he’d never felt before. 
Not because Satoru Gojo is one of your best friends.
But because Satoru Gojo is currently drunk and so are you. And despite the fact that you’re practically drowning in the warmth of alcohol and all that is Satoru Gojo, you want whatever you do with him to mean something-be something. Not just a clumsy night of drunken mistakes and hazy flashes, not something you’ll forget in the morning and agree to never speak of again.
He’s too…important for you to treat him like that. And you’re too selfish to let anything you do to him to mean anything but the fact that he would be yours. But he’s not yours. And you’re not his. And all this thinking is only making a steady ache build behind your temples.
You sigh, twisting around in his arms. Blue eyes blinking back at you, slowly searching over yours and fuck, his lips are so kissable. Pink and plump, trapped between his too white teeth.
“Let’s get you back to Shoko and Suguru, they’ll take you home and make sure you don’t kill yourself.” You’re not entirely sure where they went or why they’ve left the two of you behind, all alone where they'd know neither of you were in the right mind to make good choices.
 “No,” He shakes his head, white hair tossing, ruffled and mussed from a night of clinging to you like this. Far too close for comfort though you still couldn’t bring yourself to pry him off.  “No, n-no, don’t wan’you  to leave…” 
You begin to tug him off either way. He’s not sane enough to make decisions for himself and you don’t think you are either. “C’mon baby, let’s go find your friends.”
He shudders and grips your hand, refusing to move an inch. Tears pool in his eyes and your jaw hardens.
You sigh. You didn’t know why you thought this was a fight you’d win either way. It was a losing game trying to argue with Satoru. His lips wobble and you can feel your resolve withering away by the second. Tearing down every single defence you put up around, being ripped away by him and his stupid tears as if they were paper. 
“Don’t leave.” He whispers and he looks pathetic but you know you’ll give in to him if he asks you to. “Don’t leave me…please.”
You cup his cheek and he purrs, melting into the touch as if he were a cat, pushing into you for more attention. Basking in your attention as you sweep his tears away with your thumb, letting him close his eyes and pull you into the soft cushioning of a booth. 
You feel heady or maybe it’s the alcohol talking. More tears roll down his cheeks, tracking along the slopes of his flushed face. Crystalline and sacred and you realize with a twist in the pit of your stomach that it’s arousing.
The sight of him. His sweat-soaked skin and his eyes big and glassy. And the fragile mask he’s worked so hard to keep up deteriorating beneath your very eyes, each tear breaking and cracking apart the image of the powerful man he claims to be.
A crumpled facade of a God into a something more, something divine and corrupt, something vulnerable and weak and so very human in your arms, falling apart by a mere touch.
Maybe you’re more fucked up than you realized. Maybe you’re just horny. Maybe because it’s him. And he’s Satoru Gojo and everything about him is perfect. Powerful. Transcendent. A God against humans, finally falling apart like this, before you, ready to fall to his knees. Perhaps he was always meant to.
“Don’t wanna be alone…don’t wanna…ngh~” 
His hips thrust up, a whiny gasp working past his lips. He pants as if he’s run a marathon and you want to do such delectably sinful things to him and you’re sure you could do them all and more and he’d only beg and plead for more.
Perhaps…
“Kiss me.”
Your heart thuds in your chest, you wonder if he can hear with how loud it is. “Satoru,”
He whines and grinds and you moan. And it’s a losing battle.
“Shut up,” he insists, hand cupping the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair, almost obsessively. “Shut up and just kiss me.”
“You know we can’t. You-“
“I, am perfectly fine.” His words are a pant, a plea, whispered with a kind of reverence of a worshipper to a god. “Just kiss me, fuck me. Use me,” white eyelashes flutter, blue looking all the bluer rimmed with red and filled with tears. “Use me until you’re bored of me, until there’s nothing left-i don’t care.” He breathes, desperate and pleading and looking like he’s ready to get down on his damn knees on the dirty sticky floor. “Just-please.”
A losing fucking battle. 
Maybe it always was. Trying to keep your hands off him, now, you realized it was like setting a treat on a dogs nose and telling them to wait. A crazy amount self control with the eventual prize just in sight. 
All you can think as you cup his cheeks, flushed and wet from tears, warm against your hands is how fucking pretty he is. How you want him more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything. “Fuck, Satoru,” you mutter and he moans deep and appreciatively and then you’re pulling him in to slide your lips against his.
 And now all you can think about is how much of a dumbass you are for not doing this sooner.
He tastes like alcohol and cigarettes-when he had one you don’t know but you do know that it’s the most intoxicating mix you’ve ever encountered. You feel like you’re floating, high off his taste and his moans; like he’s a drug and you’re the addict, injecting him straight into the vein. 
It's far from elegant and he’s not perfect at it in the way you’d expect from a man as beautiful as him-godhood hasn’t blessed him in every aspect. But he’s desperate and he's eager to take everything you give, mewling against your lips. 
He’s so needy and it's crazy the way it sends you into a sort of reverie. His hands gripping your hips hard, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go, like he’s hoping you’re real and not a apparition of drunken hysteria. He pulls you closer, as if you could get close enough that no one could find where you ended and he started, that you might be able to meld into one.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same sentiment. If you didn’t try your hardest to do the exact same; nails pressing into his skin, making him whine as you tilted his head back and slipped your tongue into his mouth, exploring, feeling, taking, using. 
Just like he told you to do.
He vibrates against you, nearly shaking with choked noises. He mutters soundless words, each and every one swallowed by you as soon as they’re spoken. Pleas and prayers, worships and praises. 
You’d show him what real ascension felt like.
You probably should be embarrassed, or at the very least shameful to be putting on such a show in front of what you know are watching eyes. But you know that Gojo is far past shame at this point and you're too enamoured by the beauty that is Satoru Gojo clinging to you like he’s about to break.
To be honest, you can't find it in yourself to give a shit about any of them. About anything but him, focusing your attention on devouring him whole as he shatters, ready to catch every piece as they fall into your waiting hands. No matter if the shards rip apart your skin and leave you a bloody mangled mess.
You break away first, fighting a smile at his whine as you pull away from him, panting. 
He looks unravelled, messy. His usual flirty facade lost to pleasure. His watery eyes and heartbroken whines gone as well. Overwhelmed by swollen lips and gasps to make up for lost air. A blush like he’s just realized where he is, burying his face into your neck to hide from the probing eyes. To whisper, "You're too good at that, you know?.”
You bark a laugh and he nuzzles into your skin. 
And then you’re redirecting him to your lips again.
In a flurry of hands and lips, messy steps and you’re clumsily stumbling into the bathroom. Quickly, Satoru is shoved against the door, fingers fumbling for the lock.
Your lips find his neck, fluttering a barrage of open-mouthed kisses over the heated skin, dragging your tongue along his thrumming heartbeat. 
He whines and he begs, muttering nonsense that makes it to your ears but not to your head as you hum against him. Slender fingers knit through your hair, holding you close to him, pleading for you to never leave him.
“Touch me, touch me, touch me.” He repeats, slurred and slow, his eyes drooped shut, his voice husky with want, with lust and everything he’s been just barely repressing all this time.
But you've only ever been a slave to his desires.
So you respond in tenfold, nipping and sucking, leaving evidence that you've been here, staking a claim that doesn't exist and maybe never will but for tonight maybe you can play pretend.
Because he keens when your teeth sink into his skin and his back arches, pressing evidence of his wanton yearnings against you like you might devour him whole.
Like he wants you to.
He quieter when he whispers something that could change everything. “Love me?”
Your heart pounds in your chest but you’d never turn him down. 
Fingers deftly undo the buttons on his tight-fitting button up, revealing porcelain-like skin underneath. His nipples are hard and pink and fucking pierced. 
He gasps when you touch them, pinching them between your thumb and forefinger.
And you've never been particularly mean but you can make an exception for the God in front of you, leaving him to tortuous touches all while he throbs and thrusts into nothing but the fabric of his too-tight pants, whining from the stimulation that's all too little.
He's been begging for this all night. Whispering dirty words like a little tease, like a shameless slut.
He got you all riled up and for that you think that he should take his own share of teasing.
For retribution, for your own piece of mind and the pleasure it is to watch him squirm against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and tearstained and begging in small breathless whimpers barely over a whisper.
But you've never been able to resist him long, not then, not now and not ever.
Your hand finally reaches for his waistband, his body shivering with the feeling of your fingers dipping onto hot, untouched skin.
But he stops you.
His hand, large and pale landing over your own in a quick moment of lucidity.
His voice emerged, a whisper of uncertainty and longing. "Y-You'll take care of me?"
You met his vulnerability with a promise because you could never leave him with any less. "Yes," your words a whispered caress, a undying oath in itself, a vow that you'd take beyond this in whatever may happen.
Your lips brush over his ear, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand wraps around him, dragging a ruinous moan from deep in his throat.
"I promise, I will."
And your hand is wrapping around him, hot and wet and hard, all for you. Just for you. And his head is turned off, just sensations and feeling and you.
Just you.
"F-fuck, yes, please," so broken, fragile almost as ironic as it is. "Yes, pl-please, feels so go-good."
He doesn't last long and you don't know if it's from all the teasing you've administered or from how long he's been worked up for.
But you rather like the thought of him being sensitive enough that your voice and a few strokes is enough to bring him to the edge.
To have him pulsing in your hand while his arms wrap around your shoulders, blunt nails scraping into you skin as his hips thrust with reckless abandon.
His body quivering with pleasure as your hand forms a loose hole for him to fuck into, your thumb playing with the sensitive head of his dick.
"Please, please I need it, need it so bad," And he has no right sounding this good, looking this good while fucking into your hand like a goddamn dog. "Need it more than anything."
He always has been one for dramatics.
His head falls back against the wall, throat bobbing with the moan deep in his throat, fuck how the marks of your teeth stand out on the pale skin of his neck. Your lips permanent on his body for now, forever maybe if he'll let you keep replacing them.
"Fuck, Satoru," You free hand threads through his head, pushing his lips to meet yours, messy and slopping as he arches against you, hips thrusting erratically to match your pace. Keening when you nip at him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, nails scratching at his scalp sending tingles down every part of his body.
He breaks away with a gasp and a cry when and only when he absolutely has to, eyes shining and chest heaving with breaths to fill his burning lungs.
And he's crying. And he's beautiful.
More beautiful than anyone or anything you've ever seen in your life.
"Shit, I'm close, m' so fuckin' close-!"
You’re half out of your mind and you couldn’t feel more sane. Like this was meant to happen-like he was meant to be yours. 
"Don' stop, please don't stop," he gasps, like you'd ever think about it, like you'd could even if you wanted to.
“Satoru,” And he shakes.
“Satoru,” And he sobs.
“Satoru,” And he breaks, head falling back as if in prayer, a finger pushing his chin up, clashing against a higher power he didn't think possible.
“My one and only Satoru.” Soft and sweet and just for him and only him. And he’s gone.
Ropes of cum spurt out, rope after rope, covering your hand and the floor. Covering his thighs and his stomach in a mess.
Everything feels fuzzy and his cheeks are pink. A stupid grin crossing his face as he melts, boneless in your arms. "I love you." He mutters, distantly, foggily.
Perhaps somewhere beneath the haze he thinks that maybe you've said the same back. But he isn't quite sure anymore. He needs to be sure.
Slowly, he's lowered onto the floor into a sitting position. The tile is cold against his bare skin but it's okay because you're still caressing him, holding his face in your hand, thumb wiping at his tears.
"You love me right?"
You leave for moment and a whines at the loss of you pressed against him. Even if it's only for a few seconds he feels lonely and empty without your touch.
But then you're back and you're wiping him down with a wet towel, cleaning off his skin so gently, as if he's made of glass of porcelain, like he something to be cherished and taken care of.
"Hey pretty boy, you good?" He recognizes your voice even throughout the cloud in his mind. He nods and you smile and he's melting all over again.
"Do you love me?"
You roll your eyes and for an awful second he thinks that maybe you're going to say no. But then you're pushing the hair off his forehead and kissing him so fucking gently he thinks he'll cry.
"I do love you Satoru."
And his heart is bursting-he swears it is, it's beating so fast and so hard he's absolutely sure that you can hear it and that the quiet laughs escaping your pretty lips is because you can tell how dumbly in love with you he is.
But that doesn't matter.
Because right now he's normal person and you're a normal person and nothing else will matter but the fact that he's your's now.
"I love you too, y'know?" He mumbles.
You kiss him again, and again, and again. On his forehead and his temples, his cheeks and the tip of his nose and each of his eyelids. You kiss everywhere on his face until his lips are pouted out and he lets out a little whine of frustration.
And then you kiss his lips. Barely a peck, too fast and short for his taste but he doesn't have time to complain as you pull him off the floor.
“C’mon pretty boy, let me bring you home.”
“Mmm,” He doesn’t move, boneless against you. “Will you fuck me again?”
You laugh, soft. “Like I’d be able to resist you.”
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slasher-male-wife · 5 months
Text
Horror characters seeing their s/o covered in blood
Happy Halloween everyone. I did a poll awhile ago on what I should post for Halloween and this won. So I'm here to deliver what y'all voted on. I included a lot of characters in this just for fun. Disclaimer I haven't written for some of these characters in awhile or that much at all, so sorry if some of these are ooc.
Includes: Amanda Young, Michael Myers, Otis Driftwood, The Lost Boys, Candyman, Doomhead, Patrick Bateman, Severen Van Sickle, Pyramid Head, and The Sinclair brothers
Warnings: Mentions of real and fake blood, slightly suggestive content, gn reader, talk of drinking blood in The Lost Boys and Severen's section, violence, murder
Amanda Young
You weren't supposed to find out about what Amanda did. She wanted to keep you separate from the gore of her apprentice work. But accidents happen and somehow you get to where a trap had happened.
You were in the where-house when you slipped on a puddle of blood and got your entire front half covered in it. You screamed out and Amanda quickly came rushing in.
You standing there covered in blood made something tick inside of Amanda. Something she knows she shouldn't feel seeing you covered in blood.
But she pushes this aside and quickly assures you it's fake blood that happened to spill all over the ground. She can't stop herself from giving you a quick kiss before helping you leave.
She'll get you all cleaned up back at home but she won't be able to stop thinking about seeing you covered in blood.
Michael Myers
Michael was out while you were getting ready for a Halloween party. A part of your costume involved you getting drenched in fake blood. After pouring the fake blood all over yourself in your bathtub you let it dry and step out.
You're downstairs, gathering up your things for the party when you notice the feeling that you're being watched. You turn around and spot Michael watching you.
Michael knows what real blood looks like and considering you're pretty calm he knows this is for your costume. But something inside of him is yelling at him. Not in the usual 'kill someone' way, but in a 'get them and try not to hurt them' way.
You're going to be late to that Halloween party. Michael is going to stand there and make you spin around for him so he can watch you move while you're covered in blood. You know he's getting some kind of kick out of this, so who are you to stop his fun.
After this Michael will try to hint at you to get covered in blood more often. He'll even offer to get the blood this time, but it wouldn't be fake if he got it. He'll keep thinking about you covered in blood and won't be forgetting how it made him feel anytime soon.
Otis Driftwood
You walked in on him at a bad time. While you've grown to accept what your boyfriend does, you don't like partaking in his torture of other people. But when you walked into the wrong room at the wrong time you got sprayed all over with blood.
It coats your face, hair and chest. You thankfully didn't get any in your eyes or mouth. You do let out a scream of surprise but you're not too grossed out by the blood, living with the Firefly family for as long as you have will do that.
Otis takes a good long few moments to just stare at you. You're hot enough as it is, but seeing you all covered in blood like this? Otis is going to have to go take a long cold shower.
"Well isn't this my lucky day." He'll say before walking over to you, completely ignoring the victim now. He'll take all of you in and won't let you wash it off so quickly.
"I just wanna take a couple pictures of ya darlin'." He'll quickly get his camera out and have you pose for him while you're still covered in blood. This will come in handy when he's having art block or he just needs to have some 'personal time'.
The Lost boys
It's your first time feeding and it ended up getting really messy for you, considering you've never done it before. So you got just as much blood all over yourself as you did in your mouth.
Dwayne is the first to notice and he's smirking a little to himself as he watches your blood covered body move. He's committing this sight to memory and he'll probably find a way to get you covered in blood again.
David is the next to notice. He'll smile wider than Dwayne and make some comments about how messy eating can get at times. But he'll also talk about how hot you look covered in blood.
Marko doesn't even make a comment, he just straight up lunges and kisses you right then and there, fangs still out and everything. Seeing you all vamped out and covered in blood really got to him, making him loose all self composer that he has.
Paul also joins in on kissing you, but he'll opt for your neck since your mouth is taken. I can see him licking some blood off of you, but not too much because he loves the sight of you drenched in blood. But the boys will agree to try and get you that messy again the next time you feed.
Candyman
You didn't want to go with him. You summoned him and when he showed you how devoted he is to you, you didn't want to go. So he had no other option than to make you go by force.
You're entering your apartment after going to a Halloween party. Your costume was something you put together quickly and involved you pouring fake blood all over your front half. As you walk further into your apartment you get a strange feeling.
You try to ignore it as you walk to your bathroom to wash off the fake blood. Before you can do that you hear something moving in your medicine cabinet. You open it and after a few moments a hook jumps through it. You obviously scream and run out of your bathroom.
You're in your kitchen, picking up your phone when you see him again. He's looking at you with that same adoration in his eye from the first time you met him. He's looking you up and down. You're frozen again as he watches you.
"You're even more desirable covered in blood," He says in his sultry voice. You shed a couple tears as you try to move, but you're unable to. "I'll have to remember this the next time I see you my love. I'll never be able to forget this."
Doomhead
He knew you were going to a Halloween party, but what he didn't know was that you were going to be covered in blood when you came home. He knows real blood from fake blood and when he sees you he can't help but chuckle.
31 is coming up and he's always tried to keep you separate from it. Seeing you covered in blood is a bit of a double edged sword for him. On one hand he loves seeing you covered in blood, but he also can't stop thinking about 31, and what would happen if you got caught in it.
"Ok so I got a little too close to one of the decorations and I accidentally got covered in fake blood." You explain, taking off your shoes, "I should probably shower all of this off."
"Well I was hoping to get a better look at you like this." He says with a Cheshire grin. You roll your eyes but smile and walk over to him. He spins you around a bit, taking a good look at all of the blood on you.
He knows he'll have to tell you about 31 eventually, and that he'll always keep you away from it. But for right now he can enjoy watching his s/o look stunning while covered in blood.
Patrick Bateman
He got a little too careless and right as he was killing someone you walked in, getting covered in blood from the victim. You of course start to scream and he quickly covers your mouth.
He's so angry with you for interrupting this, but something about seeing your face and body covered with blood, excites him. "I can explain this. Calm down and listen to me." He says, trying to keep his voice calm. His anger starts to mix with arousal as he slowly slides his hand away from your mouth.
"Oh my god Patrick what happened? Who is this?" You ask, holding back tears. His attraction to you is starting to get a bit too much for him. He'll find a way to explain this murder, just like he'll find a way to explain why he wants to do it while you're covered in blood.
"He broke in and attacked me. I had to fight him off and I went a bit too hard I think. We can't tell anyone about this alright?" He says, trying his best to keep a calm, in control voice, "But right now we need to get to the bedroom.
Murder's don't get him as excited as seeing you covered in blood got him. He'll have to go out and buy some fake blood and recreate this with you again. He's glad he has such an understanding s/o.
Severen Van Sickle
It's been awhile since your last feed and when you finally got someone you could barely hold back from drinking as quickly as possible. Because you were so worried about eating as much as you could as quickly as possible you got yourself covered in blood.
After you pushed the body away Severen took notice of your blood soaked clothes. He couldn't stop himself from smiling and taking a good long look at you. He knows you'll be too full to do anything after feeding that much so he'll have to commit this sight to memory, just for some fun activities later.
You wipe your mouth and smear more blood over your face and Severen can barely contain himself at this point. He'll have to quickly ask you if you're up to help him, or if he should do it alone.
Either way he doesn't want you cleaning yourself up anytime soon. Even after his issue is taken care of he just wants to see you covered in blood. He loves how it looks in general but also aesthetically. If he has a camera on hand he's taking a picture of you.
He will try to recreate this later. Next time you're feeding he'll try to get blood all over you. I can see him filling up his mouth with blood and just spitting it on you because let's be honest, he's very dirty and probably has as many diseases as a stray cat.
Pyramid Head
You're walking around Silent Hill, trying to find some more food to stock up on when you come across one of Pyramid Head's recent kills. You don't notice and you slip on the puddle of blood.
You're used to the blood and gore of living with Pyramid Head in Silent Hill so slipping on blood and getting it all over your clothes is more of an inconvenience than scary. You groan and stand up, looking at blood slightly dripping off your clothes.
You turn around and find him standing near you. "I just slipped on some blood. It's not mine and I'm not hurt." You say. You can never really tell what he's feeling or his emotions but you can sense he's feeling a certain way about you being covered in blood.
You two just stand there while Pyramid Head is thinking about smearing more blood all over you. Seeing you covered in blood is doing something to him. So he walks over, get's blood on his hands and rubs it over your face and clothes.
He'll follow you around and just keep watching you while you're covered in blood. He'll be thinking about this for awhile, and he'll try to recreate it whenever there's free time or he just needs to see you covered in blood.
Bo Sinclair
You were busy going after a victim and it got a bit messy. You got yourself covered in blood. By the time you get the body back to the House of Wax the blood that's on your hair and face has dripped down to soak your clothes even more.
You hand it off to Vincent and when Bo sees you he pauses for a moment before he chuckles. "I like yer new look darlin'." He says teasingly. But he's using that teasing to mask how damn hot you are covered in blood.
You're able to pick up on this and you know a great way to get him back for making you chase down someone and kill them.
"Oh I know. I love this look too." You say teasingly back to him, moving your hands up and rubbing your hand over your face and neck, getting a good amount of blood on it. You walk over to Bo and smear the blood on his shirt before you step back.
"Too bad I'm about to wash it off." You say before you dodge Bo trying to grab you, "If you catch me before we get to the house I'll let you wash it off." You say before running out of the house, Bo follows behind quickly.
Lester Sinclair
You're helping Lester out by picking up a deer from the road. You're in the middle of lifting it into the truck when something happens and you get covered in deer blood.
Lester quickly rushes over to you and lifts the deer into the back of the truck. He's looking you over and making sure that you're ok. You'll have to assure him at least ten times that you're perfectly ok and that the deer just got blood all over you.
Now knowing that you're ok he does kind of realize that, you look good covered in blood. Lester loves when you get a bit dirty in general, but blood has him feeling a bit more excited than normal.
He'll zone out a bit for awhile until you bring him back and he acts like everything is good and he's totally not obsessing over the look of you covered in blood.
He'll keep this to himself until it starts to boil over and he admits to you that he hasn't stopped thinking about you being covered in blood. If you suggest the idea of getting covered in blood again he'll be all over that idea.
Vincent Sinclair
When you offered to model for Vincent's study you didn't expect to get covered in fake blood. But Vincent wanted you covered in blood and you didn't really mind so that's what the two of you do.
You stay still the entire time but you notice Vincent staring more than he is drawing. But once he notices you noticing him he gets back to drawing you.
He takes his damn well time to draw you and at one point he stands up and walks over to you. He starts to pose you in a different way and it's totally not an excuse to touch you and see you covered in blood up close.
He'll put you in so many different positions and will keep pouring blood on you. He's honestly memorized by you standing there covered in blood. At one point he'll bust out the camera and ask if he can film.
He sees you being covered in blood in a more romantic, artistic way that makes his heart beat faster. He'll have to get you covered in blood more often so he can draw, paint, photograph, etc you.
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