#both an appreciation AND an objectification

[bluberryfields]

"David is very easy to fall in love with." - Michael Sheen

Hi. How are you? Good, I hope. Okay, so can we talk about just how fucking beautiful David Tennant is? And by “we” I mean “I” and by “talk” I mean “babble incoherently into the void”? Great! I’ll attempt to impose a bit of organization on this just to satisfy my pathological need to inflict structure on words (thanks college/job/brain), but I can’t promise much. Also, there will be A LOT of pictures and gifs. (you’re welcome?)

And this isn’t just because I am deep in the bottomless well of Good Omens fandom and that Crowley is basically the most breathtaking creature that has ever existed. Well, not just because of that.

*cue Aziraphale's "good lord" from 1793*

ANYWAY, like a lot of people, I became a fan of (i.e., fell deeply and irrevocably in love with) DT during his run as the 10th Doctor. He was young and bright and full of just about everything – joy, sorrow, wit – making him incredibly watchable. His look was also so charming: big bouncy rooster comb of hair, absurdly cheeky smile, expressive-as-fuck eyes and eyebrows, and a tall, lanky form that seemed to be made of rubber and the kind of granulated sugar that could only be found in candy from the 90s that are now banned in all first- and second-world countries.

So yeah, I was super into him and his Doctor’s adventures. And I continued to watch him in other projects and still swoon (looking at you, slutty Hamlet)

even at characters where that was not the desired reaction (fuck you, Kilgrave, you delicious monster).

I would also always become a bit (a lot) weak in the knees at his voice regardless of which accent he took on, though always preferring him doing any Scottish brogue because of fucking course.

Roll that tongue, you sexy beast.

But what I want to get into today is just how incredible he looks in the year of 2023.

He’s 52 years old and I am somehow even more attracted to him. Maybe it’s because I am myself older, and my tastes have matured alongside? I certainly do enjoy gray hair way more than I did 10 years ago.

He’s aged incredibly well, probably a combination of good genes and good health, and he’s clearly not clinging to the Hollywood idea of “youth”.

(insert obligatory grumble about the double standards of men being praised for aging and women being demonized…the potentially problematic nature of the term “aging well” in general…acknowledge this with my enlightened brain but ignore this with my slutty heart…fuck the patriarchy, etc. etc.)

He’s still tall and skinny, even gangly at times, all long arms and legs that can move in impossible directions with unfathomable grace.

His face is leaner, that incredible bone structure creating sharper edges that draw the eye. Speaking of the face, he’s got these creases on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes and mouth that are evidence of time spent well: smiling, laughing, living. Makes you want to trace your fingertips along each one.

Oh god that smile? Good lord. It’s weapons grade charm that can also be quite intimidating. Sweet, humble, silly, scary…full spectrum of options here! His shark smile is the definition of “irresistible” in my Dictionary of Delicious Dudes.

I am both proud of and grossed out by my own word choice.

Continuing with that face...the hawkish nose, the dimples you want to drown in, the big eyes, those motherfucking eyebrows...

I could seriously write a whole essay about those eyebrows, but I already give my therapist enough to worry about.

Oh those eyes. “Piercing” is a term usually reserved for blue eyes, but I would argue it applies to DT’s bottomless chocolate pools in that they slice through my heart every damn time.

Honorable mention does go to those Crowley snake eyes because they could have been distracting and diminishing to his overall look, but they absolutely are not.

Such a pretty shade of yellow.

Random tangent to swoon about his hands. For whatever reason, I like checking out a man’s hands, and DT’s got a set that drives me wild. I can’t even really explain why, but I just really like the way he articulates with them. Crowley is a perfect example, what with the miracle snaps, caressing globes, and holding whisky glasses. Yum.

Delicious demon digits

Fresh tangent: How does this fucker look good clean shaven, with stubble, and a goddamn beard? How is that allowed?

He's got a face that makes me wanna take up sculpting

Further, how is his fucking neck so hot? Like, seriously, show me the math. I can’t stop staring at it. And when it’s cloaked in a turtleneck? Please, sir, may I have some more?

Fuuuuuuuck

With no segue whatsoever, I am absolutely obsessed with his hair, across all contexts. Big, bold, blood-red Crowley coifs (especially in Season 2)? Check.

Proper gentleman side part? Check.

Side shave with cartoonishy springy 14th Doctor shock? Check.

Lockdown locks with and without headband? Check!

It’s a goddamn buffet of delicious options.

Oh damn speaking of that 14th Doctor look? Good fucking Christ on a buttery Ritz cracker. The whole DT collection is on display: the hair, the eyes, the bone structure, the smile, the clothes, and even the glasses!

To quote Pam on Archer, “I swear to god, you could drown a toddler in my panties right now! I mean, not that you would.”

Now that you (I) mention the clothes, I never cease to marvel at how he can wear pretty much anything and look amazing. Stripes, patterns, wild colors, etc. He just always looks…not exactly comfortable, but sort of at ease like the clothes were created with him in mind. And this goes across the spectrum of Casual to Costume to Promotional (e.g., interviews and premieres).

They are almost illegally cute together

We all know by now how ridiculously tight those Crowley pants are and how it influenced his signature serpentine swagger (thank you, Costume department, you’re the real heroes). That said, he and those slinky hips still looks so incredibly natural in them like they came from his actual closet.

Stupid sexy snek

And he pulls off the look of more ridiculous stuff like full Shakespearean costumes or that sad gray-hoodie-black-shorts-and-Wellington-boots combo from the first season of Staged. He somehow gives off the air of “whatever, they’re just clothes, man” while also looking like a damn model.

Georgia is a very lucky woman

Final thoughts: I know DT dislikes talking about how people think he’s so attractive because I’m sure it feels a bit icky if you just want to live your life and do your job. But my guy also clearly understands that he’s not some ghoul who has succeeded on incredible personality and acting chops alone. So, that said, maybe he'll forgive me for posting such a long, rambling, ode to him?

#david tennant #crowley #thank you for coming to my ted talk #really more of a david talk #i feel very normal about him #not at all feral or rabid #staged #doctor who #10th doctor #14th doctor #kilgrave #good omens gifs #good omens #good omens 2 #gif warning #slinky hips #crowley's hair is like a separate character #both an appreciation AND an objectification #Youtube #i just really like hands ok #they grow them differently in Scotland #he's got hands that I want to touch and be touched by

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

He is velvet personified

(I don't know if that makes sense, but velvet is my favorite texture, so I'm just rolling with it)

#david tennant #david tennant in chairs #legs for days #just like all the limbs #soft scottish hipster gigolo #good lord he's beautiful #i mean seriously just look at him #he's cute and sweet and scorchingly sexy at the same time #the eyes the hair the nose the everything #look at his hands #i wanna take a bite out of those drumsticks #both an appreciation and an objectification

[dreamerslovechaos]

the applicant, sylvia plath // revolutionary girl utena

#rgu #revolutionary girl utena #himemiya anthy #utena tenjou #utenanthy #utena x anthy #akio ohtori #kyouichi saionji #mamiya chida #souji mikage #hi *drops this after nearly 6 months of silence and then runs back into the shadows* #this edit has been in my mind forever #i dont usually make anything but i read this poem by sylvia plath and was struck by a very specific vision #the poem itself is so reminiscent of the dueling system and AUGH THE OBJECTIFICATION OF BOTH SIDES #it is my personal headcanon that anthy has read every single poem of sylvia plath's and she feels very very deeply about them #go and read the full poem if you can it is so insightful as all of her works are #my first edit so feedback is appreciated! i couldnt figure out how to export the images without killing the quality bc my laptop is shit ;-; #poetry #edit #utena edit #web weaving

[the-doomed-witch]

SLUT!

WandaNat x AFAB!GN!Reader

Summary: Daddy and mommy need their toy.

Word Count: ≈0.9k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. Just pwp, double penetration, cum filled straps (r receiving), breeding kink, gagging, degradation, sort of objectification, reader is wearing a collar, daddy (n), mommy (w), sub!reader, Wanda just can’t keep her hands off lol

Author’s Note: Long time no see, folks. Here’s some smut because I haven’t written in months. I just use this blog as a means to honrypost but in a fanfic way. Hope you all like this. Reblogs/comments are much welcome & appreciated <3 GIF credits to creators

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION // REQUESTS CLOSED

— ✦ —

“Easy, baby, easy,” Wanda whispers as she bottoms out inside you. Her slender fingers tug at the small black collar around your neck, the fingertips tickling your skin. The sensation of being so filled makes you whimper and moan at the top of your voice.

“You’re not making it easier for daddy, now shush. Don’t move, just a little more.” Natasha orders from behind you, her strap waiting to penetrate you. She grabs the side of your hips to hold them in place, and stretches them open for her convenience. “Please, daddy, I can’t…” you protest, but Wanda tugs at your collar harshly, almost making you choke on your own spit. “Shhh darling, let mommy and daddy play with their slut,” she speaks right into your ear and bites the earlobe.

And when Natasha’s strap is inside your ass, your groans intensify with the feeling of being so thoroughly penetrated. Thrust thrust thrust, the two women absolutely devour your holes.

From behind you, Natasha kisses the side of your neck, biting down on the skin. Your head is thrown back as soon as you feel the sinking teeth indenting your skin. Wanda pounds your throbbing cunt, the wet slick running down your thigh. “Taking mommy’s cock so well, baby,” she speaks hushedly, “Just like the dick riding whore that you are.”

The mere words tighten a knot inside your belly.

“And daddy’s too,” Natasha murmurs in your other ear, as she thrusts the strap more violently. Her hips are in sync with Wanda’s, both cocks being shoved inside your holes at the same time. Your hands grab Wanda’s waist, scratching her bare skin with the tight grip of your nails.

Your groans get progressively louder, as your butt cheeks bounce with the vehement fucking. Natasha keeps whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and Wanda hums to Natasha fantasies and words in the other. Your body is wholly consumed by the two women you feel the utmost passion for.

You pleadingly look at Wanda’s face on your side, silently begging for release. “What’s that baby? Wanna cum for mommy?”

You nod eagerly in reply, thinking that maybe this time, you could cum without any more resistance. Deep down, you wanted to be denied as well, though.

Natasha turns your face towards herself, holding your chin firmly. “Not yet, baby. Let daddy play with her fucktoy. You’re so tight around daddy’s cock.” Without much warning, two of her fingers part your lips and choke your throat, while Wanda pulls the collar around your neck. Your nails dig deeper into Wanda’s skin.

Wanda uses her other hand to pinch your nipple, and flicks the hardened bud to stimulate your entire nervous system. God it feels so good. Beads of sweat run down your bodies, and the dark room is getting hotter by the minute. The knot inside your belly keeps tightening.

Once satisfied with the gagging, Natasha retracts her digits from your mouth, a coat of saliva dripping around them. She uses the same fingers to flick your clit in circular motions.

With a hoarse voice, you beg once again, “Please, daddy, please mommy, want to cum, please.” You can feel your pussy clenching around the dick.

They both exchange a glance and give you a smirk. “Cum for mommy and daddy, slut,” Wanda instructs authoritatively. As soon as you feel yourself reach your climax, both of the straps ejaculate inside of you. The warm liquids of your bodies infuse your pussy and your ass, and drip down from the base of the strap-ons.

After one final thrust, Natasha pulls out, letting you fall back in her arms. But Wanda is too focused into dumping all the liquids inside you, that she fucks the trickling cum back into your cunt. “Mommy please… hurts…”

“Easy darling, mommy just wants you to be her little cum dump,” Natasha whispers from behind you. Both her hands cup your breasts, groping them gently with her palms. You keep whimpering and squirming, till Wanda slows down and pulls the faux dick out.

Her breathing is heavy after the intense fucking, so she closes her eyes and smiles, wiping the sweat off her forehead. She immediately leaps forward to kiss you sloppily, almost tossing you, as well as Natasha, over. She watches the two of you make out adoringly but doesn’t resist grasping Wanda’s jaw and kissing her too. Her hands do not move away from your tits, softly kneading them as you lean back against her, taking a deep breath.

Wanda rubs your clit softly, now a swollen nub. The action jolts your whole body as her fingers churn up the exuding juices from your pussy. You moan incoherently, mumbling for her to stop. “Daddy please…” you plead to Natasha as well. They both pull away from the kiss and smirk at you, and Wanda ceases her fingering.

You look at Natasha, head tilted towards your left. Her gaze catches yours in the moment, as you both pant heavily. Your fingers entwine with Natasha’s hair, tucking it back and planting a smooch on her lips. Towards your right, waits Wanda, for her turn too.

It just all makes more sense without words.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff x you #Wanda maximoff x y/n #Wanda maximoff smut #Natasha Romanoff #Natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha romanoff x you #Natasha romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff smut #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat smut

[joonberriess]

𓆩♡𓆪 “i heard from a friend of a friend, that that dick was a ten out of ten” — jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — threesomes, sexual objectification, yg and jk are both high, dom-sub undertones, petplay(?) yg just calls oc puppy and makes her crawl, dumbification, protected sex, pussy eating, blowjobs, reader’s in for it LMAO, cum-eating(?), it gets soft i swear

“You remember I told you about Yoongi, right baby?” Jungkook wraps his arm around your waist and gently guides you out of the car, “ ‘s not gonna take long, we’ll be in and out. I just need to pick something up.” He closes the door and tugs you with him with a hand on your ass.

You sleepily look around the parking lot mumbling about how pretty the apartments looked. “Yoongi is the one you said sells you weed?” You softly reply as you follow him into the building, “But I thought you said weed makes you dumb, ‘s why you don’t let me get you any from Jooheon.” You pout.

Jungkook presses a kiss to your forehead, “Jooheon’s a idiot and I don’t want you near him. At least Yoongi actually sells shit worth buying.” He presses the button to the elevator, “You’ll like him baby, he’s a good friend of mine. Plus his roommate has a dog too.”

You step into the elevator with a angry little pout, “You said we would be in and out, does that mean I can’t play with the doggy?” You huff, you’re no stranger to Jungkook taking you out so late to do god knows what, but you really hope he isn’t making this a short trip because then it means you got all dressed up for nothing. :(

Jungkook kisses the pout off your face, “Don’t give me that fuckin’ pout, I’ll take you out after this. You think I’m gonna let your cute ass go to waste?” He teases softly as he gives your ass an appreciative squeeze.

Well, he does have a point. You ARE dressed pretty cute tonight, you had chosen to wear this pretty jean miniskirt along with your new pink tube top that had little rhinestones all over! You find yourself smiling brightly at Jungkook, “Can we go get fried chicken at that one karaoke place?”

Both of you reach Yoongi’s floor, his roommate Hoseok(?) invites the two of you in and he heads off into his room talking about needing some sleep. You coo quietly at the small dog sleeping by the TV stand all curled up into a tiny fluff ball. “He’s so cuteeee.” You whine as you bend over to get a better look at the dog.

Jungkook chuckles quietly and leaves you be, “Yoongi! Get your ass out here!” he says, disappearing down the dark hall in search of said man.

You’re left all alone in the dimly lit living room with the puppy. You’re too busy cooing over it to notice Yoongi come out from the room opposite of the hallway Jungkook went into. “So you’re the one Jungkook talks about.” Yoongi’s eyes rack down your form until they land right on your ass where your skirt rides up just a tiny bit, “Guess he wasn’t lying afterall.”

You jump a little at the new voice and turn around to look at Yoongi with puppy eyes, “You scared me!” You hold a hand over your chest, “Don’t sneak up on me like that, you look like a creep.”

Yoongi snorts, “My bad sweetheart,” he holds his arms up in surrender as he licks his lips, “didn’t know it was a crime to walk in my own house.” He shakes his head and walks to the kitchen connected to the living room, “Where’d your ‘Jungkookie’ go hm? Think you can be a good girl and use that little brain of yours?”

“He went to look for you down the other hall!” You smile cheerfully and stand up a bit straighter. He eyes you silently and you make a confused noise, following his gaze down only to see he’s staring at your chest where a tiny bit of boob pops out. “Oh. Sorry,” you softly huff and mutter about your ‘stupid top’ as you fix your tits.

Yoongi nods, “Nah, nah… you’re absolutely fine..” He trails off and sips his water. Jungkook comes barreling in a few moments later and Yoongi perks up, “Oh there you are, I was just asking about you to your girl.” He clears his throat.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in faux annoyance, “Yeah, yeah dickhead I was looking all over for you. Got my ass yelled at by Hoseok cause I was making too much noise supposedly. You got what I need or what?” He grunts, pulling you to his side.

Yoongi nods, “I just rolled one a couple minutes ago, why don’t we smoke that one first, on the house Kook you know hyung rolls the fattest blunts.” He smirks, “On the house.”

Jungkook raises a brow and looks over at you, you’re obviously lost in your own world as you coo at the now awake puppy which is hiding at your feet. “Fine, but y/n’s not smoking, got it. So don’t even fuckin offer any cause I know your ass.”

Yoongi grins, “Pinky promise.” Jungkook doesn’t miss the wink he shoots you.. Oh, so now Yoongi likes to share his blunts all of a sudden? Generous.

They get situated on the leather couch together as Yoongi lights the blunt up, taking a long drag from it and passing it off to Jungkook. You mostly ignore the two, opting to sit out with the puppy playing around and cooing at it. Yoongi watches you with darkened eyes sitting back in his seat and enjoying the sight of you looking so pretty on your knees.

“I can see you staring bitch,” Jungkook grunts and hands off the blunt back to Yoongi, “you’re not being so fucking subtle like you think you are.” He narrows his eyes.

Yoongi shrugs, all to calm for someone who just got called out, “I know a pretty ass when I see one, I’m only a man after all, sue me. Don’t worry, I won’t go near your precious y/n.”

Jungkook looks over at you, you’re sitting so pretty and clueless at the same time. He looks back at Yoongi who’s intently watching him with those cold calculated eyes which hold something akin to mischief in them. It suddenly dawns on him he’s more interested than he initially thought he was. Jungkook has a vision (which is partly owed to the weed taking over his senses and clouding his mind) and something in him wants to see just how perfect you go with Yoongi..

His beloved Yoongi hyung whose reputation was built far more worse than his own was. His hyung that fucked a plethora of women who all had one thing in common–their shared love for his tongue and fingers which apparently they referred to as heavenly and mind blowing.

“... How bad would you say that you want y/n, and none of that what are you talking about shit. I see the way you’re looking…shameless bastard.” Jungkook smirks as he takes a long hit.

Yoongi slowly tilts his head to look at you as he licks his lips, “Does little Kookie wanna watch hyung fuck his girlfriend into another universe? Is that what you like Kook, watching someone else ruin that pretty thing over there?” He grins, eyes half lidded with desire. Jungkook shivers, he’s possessive sure but something about getting to see you get wrecked right in front of him does things to him.

“You know my answer to that.” He pokes his tongue against his cheek and smirks in return.

The two carry on in silence passing the blunt back and forth. You on the other hand sit there in utter shock, frozen in your spot after hearing all those things Jungkook and Yoongi were saying about you. Yoongi gives you butterflies in your tummy, the good kind too, and hearing them talk about you like you’re not even there makes it ten times more appealing.

You slowly turn around to look at the two sitting across from you. Yoongi catches your gaze and stares right back at you with a promising grin. It has you feeling a second heartbeat down there between your thighs as you shift around and rub them together. Yoongi hands off the blunt to Jungkook and curls his finger at you in a ‘come here’ motion.

As you go to get up Yoongi stops you, “Ah, ah,” he grins evilly, “on all fours sweetheart, wanna see you crawl like a cute puppy.”

You flush under his words and slowly lower yourself back down, crawling towards Yoongi with a sway of your hips. Jungkook’s own eyes are dark and half-lidded, he watches you with close eyes and mutters something about how hot you look on all fours like that.

“There you go sweetheart, guess your little brain does work for something after all.” Yoongi pats his knee, “Right here baby, right where you belong.” The insinuation itself has your pussy creaming, clit throbbing from arousal and neglect. You’re not too sure you can survive this.

“Let’s get this flimsy thing off.” Yoongi pulls you in even closer once you’re on his lap, his (veiny) hands slithering down to your miniskirt as he begins to unbutton it for you. “Up you go,” he slaps your ass, “yeah, just like that baby, I think your Jungkookie likes what he sees.” He motions over to Jungkook.

You turn around to face Jungkook with puppy eyes, pouting even more when you see his tattooed hand rubbing over his growing erection sitting so sinfully in his sweats. He nods at you with a grin, “Be good for hyung baby, show him how much of a good girl you are.” With that in mind you turn back to Yoongi.

Yoongi hisses under his breath when he comes face to face with your lacy panties, chubby little pussy hugged so perfectly by the flimsy material with an obvious wet patch over the center. “Do a little spin for me sweetheart, nice and slow for me.” He licks his lips sitting back and staring up at you.

You shyly do a spin, making sure not to go too fast since you’ve done this countless times for Jungkook. Yoongi’s hands come up to stop you mid-twirl, holding you still in front of him as he runs his hands over your baby-soft skin, gently cupping your asscheeks and bouncing them in place.

“Shit.” He growls, “So fuckin’ pretty.” He suddenly pulls back to smack your ass harshly, watching it bounce in place as a hand print slowly starts appearing. You yelp softly and chew on your bottom lip, this isn’t fun at all if he’s only looking :( you want him to make you feel good too!

“I bet you’re even prettier over here.” He whispers huskily and gently presses two fingers right up against your cunt, rubbing over the wet patch as he presses in to emphasize his words.

You mewl softly and give him the best puppy eyes you can muster, “You’re being really mean right now. ‘S not fun at all!” You huff angrily.

Yoongi smacks your ass hard, “You’ll take what I give you sweetheart, no need to get fucking mouthy with me. Your greedy little pussy is practically beggin’ for it at this point, look at you,” he laughs which adds further to your embarrassment, “you want me here?” He presses right up against your swollen clit which lies hidden away in those damned panties. “Puppy forgot how to speak?”

“N-No, ‘s just–”

“Just what sweetheart?” He quickly interrupts and forces another whine out of your throat. “C’mon, I don’t have all night to sit here and wait until you decide to use your little brain to figure out what you want.”

Yoongi is cruel with the way he pinches your clit while he nonchalantly talks to you still expecting for you to be able to reply to him. Your lip wobbles and you begin whining again with small hiccups, “Y-You’re being mean..! I don’t want your stupid fingers anymore, you’re not even doing anything and it’s not fair.”

“Not fair puppy? How, if you can’t tell me what you need? Are you that dumb you can’t even figure out your own needs? Has Jungkook fucked you stupid babydoll?” Yoongi pulls you back into his lap as he circles his arms over your waist and holds you still against him, “Hm?”

“ ‘s not true, I know that I want your fingers.” You huff cutely and lick your lips, “And if you won’t do something about it then I’m going to Jungkook, he’ll do something.” You glare.

Jungkook makes a noise since he’s addressed for the first time since this has started. “My patience is running thin Yoongi, if you won’t I will and you’ll single handedly ruin your only chance to get your hands on my baby.” He smirks.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and lays you back on the couch, “Brats, the lot of you.” He slides your panties down your soft thighs and tosses them in Jungkook’s direction, “Get yourself off with those loser.” He grunts and lays his eyes over your glistening pussy.

Your breath hitches in excitement and you let your thighs fall open for the older, biting your lip in anticipation. “Actually I got a better idea.” Jungkook muses as he rises off the couch and slowly walks over, “from what I remember…puppies don’t speak.” He grins.

Yoongi looks up at Jungkook and then trails his gaze down to you, “You’re right.”

+

Soft moans and garbled little cries are punched out of your throat with every thrust Yoongi sends your way. His cock punches in deep and strikes a spot inside that has your thighs shaking and pussy leaking. His thighs smack into your over and over again, he practically has you hanging off his cock bent over at a perfect angle with your ass up high.

Yoongi grips your hips tightly and occasionally digs his fingernails into your soft skin, leaving behind marks from his aggression. He releases a series of pleasured grunts and tiny sighs as your pussy tries to milk him of all he’s worth. “Loosen up for me will you sweetheart? Gonna give it to you just the way you need.” He moans.

You’re trying not to tighten up around him but it’s a little difficult with your mouth preoccupied with Jungkook’s cock. You’re trying not to choke up around him but Yoongi keeps catching you off guard with his punishing pace. The pleasure clouds your senses, making it a bit harder to focus on Jungkook.

“C’mon baby, you can do better than that.” Jungkook grunts as he guides you up and down his cock, watching as you slobber all over him and leave behind a mess.

You whimper loudly and squirm around, your jaw aches pleasantly from the stretch but you don’t find it in you to care much. Not when Jungkook’s cock settles just nicely over your tongue, you easily catch him off guard when you suckle around him and slurp up your spit and precum. Yoongi however, catches your attention again when he delivers a slap to your ass.

“I don’t want a drop wasted, good girls always make sure to clean their messes don’t they? You gonna be good to Jungkook and swallow all of it, or are you too cock drunk to understand.” Yoongi pants softly and re-adjusts his grip on your hips and fucks into your harder.

The sound of your ass clapping off of his pelvis resonates loudly, between your thighs there’s a mess of your creamy slick which seems to form a visible white ring around Yoongi’s cock everytime he backstrokes. Yoongi hisses at the sight, he wishes that he wasn’t wearing a condom so he could fill your sweet little cunt up and watch as his cum was pushed back in.

“Ah fuck,” Jungkook groans out and throws his head back, “keep going like that baby.” He whispers in pure bliss, “You’re doing so good for me.” He grips your hair tighter.

You gag around his cock in response, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. You’re pretty sure you look a mess right now, tear streaks down your face and ruined makeup. “Mmm..!” You cry out in a mix of pleasure and some pain when Yoongi reaches between your thighs to pinch at your swollen clit, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingertips.

“Go on and make Jungkookie cum baby, don’t be a selfish little slut.” Yoongi purrs as he slows his hips down to a sensual grind. “Hold it in for me sweetheart, good girls cum when they’re told to.”

Jungkook on the other hand loses it when you make eye contact with him, he grabs on to your hair tightly and begins fucking up into your mouth. His balls press snug against your chin as he rolls his hips quickly. “Shit, shit baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” he shudders as he tightens his grip, “just a little more for me.” He moans.

Not wanting to disappoint him you swallow around his cock and moan loudly, letting the vibrations travel as you flick your tongue on the underside of his cock where a particularly sensitive vein lies. Jungkook’s poor cock throbs as the first few spurts of warm cum shoot down your throat. He lets out a long moan, eyes slipping shut and head falling back in pleasure, “Shit.”

Yoongi licks his lips and pulls you off of Jungkook’s cock, “Swallow for me.” He whispers, yanking your head back as he watches you greedily gulp down the cum. “That’s a good girl,” he licks his lips and delivers hard punishing thrusts, “gonna cum all over that pretty ass sweetheart.” He closes his eyes and groans.

Your cunt throbs in excitement as you shakily whimper and hide your face in Jungkook’s thighs. “P-Please, ‘m so close,” you sob softly it gets harder to hold your orgasm back, and you do NOT want to be a bad girl.

Yoongi suddenly pulls out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing as you whimper from the loss. You hear him rip the condom off and toss it on your ass. “Fuck,” he hisses as he strokes his cock rapidly, “turn over for me.”

You shakily comply and push yourself off of Jungkook, lying on your back and staring up at Yoongi with those sweet puppy eyes of yours. He aims his cock down at your lower tummy and spills all over, hissing through his teeth as he tips his head back and sighs. You watch with teary eyes, this isn’t fair! They got to cum but you didn’t!

“Don’t you pout at me, I haven’t forgotten you yet.” Yoongi sighs, utterly relaxed from his strong orgasm as he wedges himself between your thighs, “You did so well for me puppy, sit back and relax.”

His hot mouth ghosts over your pussy until you feel his lips wrap around your clit. You cry out in sensitivity and reach up to hold on to Jungkook’s hands while Yoongi begins ferociously eating you out. He eats you like a man starved, basically making out with your cunt at this point.

“Mm..! Mmm..!” Your head is thrown back, mouth agape as he spits on your cunt and traces your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Jungkook gently hushes you, “Just let go for me baby.” He leans down to smooch your cheek and whisper words of encouragement.

The praises are what leads to your orgasm. A loud cry escapes out of you and you’re left shaking on the couch as you cum harder than ever with your clit in Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi slurps up the mess he made on your cunt as he pulls back to pant softly, “Good girl, look at you.” He whispers as he watches your chest rise and fall.

You pout your lips up at Jungkook for a kiss and he easily complies without hesitation. You happily sigh into his mouth and relax under both men. Jungkook for the most part ignores Yoongi and murmurs against your lips if you’re okay. You think he’s so sweet for that and it makes you melt even further.

“Are you guys getting the fuck off my couch anytime soon? I gotta clean this shit before Seok wakes up.” Yoongi says now standing as he smokes the rest of the blunt he and Jungkook were sharing earlier. “I have a magical thing called a bathroom where you can do this thing we call freshening up.”

“Fuck off.” Jungkook snorts as he gently gathers you in his arms, “Leave my baggy out there and we’ll be on our way after we freshen up.” He says as he lifts you up and begins carrying you off down the hall. You pass by Yoongi mumbling a ‘I have to go peepee remember?’ to which Jungkook replies, “Yes you do baby, ‘less you want a STI.”

Yoongi stands there with a unreadable expression, “Get the fuck out of my house.” He rolls his eyes and begins cleaning. (He doesn’t mean it though..)

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

[spookykoolkat]

introducing...

🩸♰ 𝐣𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ♰🩸

hello! welcome to my very first kinktober EVER! i will be writing for various people during this season, and have a few already done! currently this list consists of writing for three people — jim hopper, joel miller, eddie munson.

♱ these shorts can run from 500 - 10K words so be aware! i will put the word count with every post :) ♱

♱ these may also be posted late, or twice in a day depending if i can't keep up with my schedule :p sorry in advance! ♱

all dates that say TBA are up for request for any person of your choosing *preferably ones i write for* ^^

send in your request with the date you want, and you can be as detailed or as vague as you want. remember!!!* all my writing is written for plus sized women! so if you're bothered by that then i am very sorry but never in my life have i seen an all plus sized kinktober! so i will be here to represent for my girls 🖤🩷 i don't use many descriptions other than describing the character as fat, so my writing is SPECIFICALLY for fat black and brown women, women of color, and fat women in general 🩷

most of these fics are centered around halloween time, or just the season of fall! very few are just regular spicy stories :p

reblogs, comments and likes are very appreciated 🖤

but without further ado, here we go!

【 oct 1. exhibitionism 】

▹ joel miller is a stranger who fucks you on a nude beach.

【 oct 2. facefucking/choking 】

▹ eddie munson is your toxic on and off 'boyfriend'.

【 oct 3. dumbification 】

▹ joel miller is your grumpy old neighbor.

【 oct 4. taped 】

▹ eddie munson likes to record you during sex.

【 oct 5. caught 】

▹ joel miller is your dad's coworker, and tommy miller is his brother.

【 oct 6. glory hole 】

▹ eddie munson goes to a brothel for the very first time.

【 oct 7. sex work 】

▹ jim hopper gets bored and finds a cam girl site.

【 oct 8. size kink 】

▹ eddie munson is your skinny, lanky boyfriend.

【 oct 9. cockwarming 】

▹ joel miller just loves to be buried inside of you 24/7.

【 oct 10. phone sex 】

▹ eddie munson can't help himself when he gets on the phone to talk to his best friend at night.

【 oct 11. breeding 】

▹ joel miller aches to see you swollen and round with his baby.

【 oct 12. somnophilia 】

▹ eddie munson uses you while you sleep in his bed.

【 oct 13. orgy 】

▹ joel miller gets an invite to a sex party, only to find you and keep you to himself.

【 oct 14. high sex 】

▹ eddie munson gets you high for the first time.

【 oct 15. mutual masturbation 】

▹ joel miller finds a loop hole in his efforts of not ruining you.

【 oct 16. sexting 】

▹ jim hopper spends a late night at the precinct when his phone starts buzzing away.

【 oct 17. objectification 】

▹ joel miller loves to turn you into his personal sex doll.

【 oct 18. switch 】

▹ eddie munson lets you, a stranger, dom him.

【 oct 19. praise kink 】

▹ eddie munson finds that his new girlfriend loves to be good for him.

【 oct 20. edging 】

▹ joel miller loves to make you work for it.

【 oct 21. corruption 】

▹ eddie munson has always been a bad influence for you.

【 oct 22. thigh riding 】

▹ joel miller like to watch you ride his thigh.

【 oct 23. virgin 】

▹ eddie munson takes your pretty little flower.

【 oct 24. dacrysphilia 】

▹ joel miller loves to make you cry while he's inside of you.

【 oct 25. titty fucking 】

▹ jim hopper loves your double Ds a little too much.

【 oct 26. stigmatophilia 】

▹ eddie munson can't help but get hard every time he looks at your pierced body.

【 oct 27. obsession 】

▹ joel miller refuses to lose you, no matter what it takes.

【 oct 28. anal 】

▹ jim hopper has an insatiable urge to stretch out both holes.

【 oct 29. quirofilia 】

▹ eddie munson's hands never fail to get you embarrassingly wet.

【 oct 30. touch starved 】

▹ joel miller hasn't met anyone as needy as you.

【 halloween: surprise 】

▹ i shake shit up and write something i've never written b4 lol

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #plus size smut #fat girls #smut #chubby smut #chubby #plus size reader #joel miller #joel miller x plus sized reader #eddie x plus size reader #stranger things #tlou fanfiction #jim hopper #jim hopper x plus size reader #oneshots #eddie munson smut #jim hopper smut #plus size representation #joel x reader #joel tlou #eddie munson #joel miller smut #tlou hbo #curvy #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #i 🩷 fat girls #plus size series #spooky sex fr

[roseglazedlens]

⦑ THE FUCKING DEAD ⦒ 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥’𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ➠ series masterlist | ⏪prologue | 🔃boy’s route | ⏩resolution

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓┇𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑┇𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐅𝐈𝐂┇𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 JILL VALENTINE X AFAB GN! READER ADA WONG X AFAB GN! READER synopsis: You split ways with Leon and Carlos, choosing to accompany Jill and Ada to Glenn Arias' office. One of you is already infected... content: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, dubcon, threesome, zombie fucking, oral (reader & f! receiving), toys (vibrator + strap-on in one hole), squirting, fisting, knifeplay, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, latex kink, face sitting, cervix penetration, tonguefuck, hand & finger kink, nipple play, mating press (kinda), choking, body marking, body horror, slight objectification, body fluids, and pet names (kitty, darling). a/n: am gay thanks for cumming to my ted talk « 6 k words | general masterlist | ao3 | reblogs appreciated! »

The five of you parted ways—for better or worse. Is there a choice for you anyway? This is unanimous from everyone. So, you decide to follow the most logical choice: complete the mission as you are instructed, instead of seeking distractions with time you can’t afford to lose.

Leon and Carlos bid the three of you farewell, venturing underground to locate the source of a gas that may or may not be a distraction or an ambush. You, Jill, and Ada will continue upstairs to infiltrate Glenn Arias’ personal office, retrieving the concentrated sample with utmost priority, and regroup with the rest before Arias has a chance to discover his merchandise has gone missing.

The plan is perfect, what’s there to be worried about?

“Our intel says Arias’ office should be on the top floor. The coordinates are on your watch. Proceed with caution, everyone.” Rebecca calls out into your earpiece. Twisting your elbow, you glimpse at your watch. It blinks with your location in green, and destination in red, two floors above you.

“Copy.” You and Jill acknowledge Rebecca, but Ada ignores, simply hiking forward with her pistol leading the way.

“She must be fun at parties.” Jill snorts, following behind her.

This is the first time Jill talks after splitting up with the boys. And even then, she only ever converses with you, and never to Ada. They have almost nothing in common between them, besides their stubborn attitude that only butts at each other’s heads. If you aren’t around, there will only be an air of dead silence between the duo.

But these two are your friends, and you like them both for different reasons.

You recall a past memory between you. “She’s not usually like this outside of missions. We went to a bar one time, and Ada got me free drinks all night. Poor suckers, she swindled them all.”

“Just the two of you?”

“No, it was an afterparty. Rebecca was there. I think you had to stay back for work that day. Why?”

Your eyes meet Jill in confusion, and they quickly dart away. Jill clears her throat to speak again. “So you and Ada are close, huh?”

“I think so,” Jill’s face hints a bit of disappointment, but she tries to force her lips to upturn into a nonchalant smile. You don’t notice this and continue talking: “But not exactly. She saved me a few times, so I’m grateful for her. But I wouldn’t call us friends.”

“And that’s all?”

You wonder where all of this is coming from. Didn’t take her for the kind who enjoys bars and loud spaces anyway. Spending time with Jill is usually just the two of you watching TV, laughing at the over-the-top reality drama from the comfort of the couch, cuddling up right next to each other like a couple of platonic best friends. Before you can speak, you feel a presence in front of you, standing in your way. You pause quickly at the last minute, almost colliding into the figure. Ada. She only looks at Jill when she’s talking.

“You two lovebirds done? Stay alert.” Ada deadpans with no intention of being friendly and warming. “Don’t hold me down.”

“Take care of your shit and I’ll take care of mine.” There’s bitterness in Jill’s voice, and Ada ignores her because your watch is beeping. The green and red dots overlap each other. You’re here.

You put your game face on. You land yourself on the other side of the wooden door to Arias’ office, while Jill and Ada have their backs against the wall closest to the door knob. Ada signals, counting down from three, and then finally kicks down the door. The three of you rush in, guns aimed forward in order to take down any security patrolling the perimeters.

“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow. You lower your gun when realisation sets in that you are indeed in an empty room.

You recognise this dark wood flooring. It adorns proudly, and even more repetitively, throughout the mansion. This room is no different. The desk, cabinetry and shelves are crafted with the same sinister timber that weighs down Arias’ office. Rows of portraits from Arias’ ancestors stare down at you with hollow beady eyes. A tall window, slightly ajar, to let in the cold nocturne wind. No mould.

This room had been cared for—dusted, cleaned, and prepared. Papers spread across the table, fresh ink, even the nameplate is polished into a shimmer. Arias frequents here, either for work—or for other sorts of shady businesses.

Ada immediately gets to work, and she finds a painting with a secret hinge to the side. It opens into a safe with two rotary dials. The sample is so close now, so close to your reach.

“I’ll check for any other clues that may help us.” Jill declares, and she’s flipping through papers on the desk for any information she can send to Rebecca.

But your eyes are still fixed upon Ada with her back facing you. Not leaving her even for just a second. Ada might have saved you a few times, but the amount of times she betrayed you is far greater. A memory sticks out from a conversation in the saferoom when Leon pulls you aside:

“Be careful. Something is very wrong about this place. I don’t know what it is yet…” His words hold weight and sincerity as he speaks. “And about Ada… I don’t trust her. You shouldn’t too. Don’t make the same mistake as I did.” Then Leon loosens the grasp on your arm, and reluctantly lets go…

You refocus, keeping your eyes peeled on Ada, before noticing how beautiful her hands are. How they pinch the dial with ease and precision, almost gliding as she hears the very faint click inside the clockwork of the safe. Her nails are short, painted dearly with scarlet red polish, palms so silky that they almost glisten lightly under the moonlight. You didn’t know the hands of a mercenary can be so pretty, unlike yours, calloused and scabs healed over.

“Are you done watching me?” Ada is still listening to the safe, but she knows you’re looking.

“Huh? I wasn’t—” Your cheeks redden from being caught.

“You think I’m as dense as that rookie? I see you guys talking. Did Leon tell you to watch over me?” Oh. She must be talking about Leon’s warnings in the safe room.

“It… wasn’t about you.” You hesitate and fiddle with your thumb. You are not a great liar, not by far.

“Just tell me.”

Ada turns around to look at you now, telling of how much she knows you. And it’s definitely well enough to see through your lies like translucent paper. Your words tumble under pressure: “He’s just concerned. Told me to keep an eye out.”

Ada scoffs; she’s turning the dial a bit more aggressively this time. “Of course he did. Predictable. The rookie thinks I’m out to get him every single time.” There’s another sigh of exhaustion.

“Well, isn’t that what you did?”

“That’s besides the point. It’s his fault for getting in my way.” Ada clears her throat. “Rest assured, I’ve been compensated well for this job, so you’re safe.”

“For now. I’m not taking my eyes off you.”

“Didn’t take you for the kind to let others tell you what to do.”

You clamp your lips shut. She’s right, and you know it. Your brain racks within itself for a comeback to defend your integrity, and realising instead: Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself to Ada?

Ada is challenging you for sure. Or entertained by you. You can’t tell the difference with her teasing grin that could be either, or both. Are your eyes fooling you, or does Ada seem more... relaxed? Her demeanour is drastically different from when you were in the saferoom, or when you were speaking to Jill. If you didn't know better, you swear Ada actually enjoys your company, maybe even a little bit more than friends.

The safe beeps, signal flashes green, and the hinge loosens to an open. The two of you peek inside. There’s a gold bar. A stack of paper (letters?) bound by a delicate string. But beyond that, nothing.

You hear rustling in the background. Papers falling to the floor. You turn around to see Jill frozen.

“We got the safe open. Did you find anything?”

Jill’s eyes are far off, fixed upon a particular spot. You look towards the direction of her glance, and beyond the window, it overlooks the mansion’s luxurious home garden, overgrown with weeds and wilt. Behind that, a bench and what appears to be either a figure or the trick of a light. It’s too dark to tell.

“Jill.” Ada repeats, slightly raised eyebrows indicating suspicion. Jill returns from her far off location, and sees the two of you in front of her.

“You okay?” You ask, wanting to put your hand on her shoulder. She shrugs you off.

“I’m fine.” Jill’s fist is holding some paper, and she scrunches it to hide it in her back pocket. “Nothing useful. Just old accounts… and stuff. You know.” Ada is watching. Jill changes the topic fast.

“But look what I've found in the drawers.” Jill removes a box from inside the drawer and opens it. It contains a bunch of oddly shaped devices, attached by a belt or some sort.

“Are those what I think they are...?” You question, not quite sure what to make of it just yet.

“In every colour too.” Ada says. “Seems like a 'hobby' of Arias'.”

“Maybe Arias had been using this toy in this room.” Jill snickers, pulling one of them out by the belt, and the girth of the black shaft is thick and erected.

“Jill, stop playing with it.” Your face looks visually disturbed. “Oh my god, my pure and innocent mind...”

“Don't tell me you've never used one of these before?” Ada is grinning, as if you just asked a silly question.

“And you have?”

“Who hasn't?” Jill laughs too. Meanwhile, you are still standing, a look of confusion in your eyes. They look at you, and look between themselves, a synchronous 'oh' left their mouths at the same time. You are still confused.

“Don't worry about it. So what do you guys got there?”

You pick up the stack, and read aloud the first sheet that is addressed to someone.

Dear Sarah, The world had been too cruel to us, separating us from each other far too suddenly, far too soon. Our lives were only just beginning, and fate had to take you away from me. We should’ve had so much more time. And we will. Don’t worry, Sarah, all of this is only temporary. I took your wedding dress to the dry cleaners and safekept it for your return. I still remember how beautiful you looked in that dress walking down the aisle. Yours forever, Glenn

You bring the sheet back to read the next letter.

Dear Sarah, My research was successful. I did it, Sarah, I DID IT!! I can finally bring you home, my love. Didn’t we always said we wanted a child? You told me underneath the moonlight you want to name our daughter Renee. And now, we can finally have them. We can finally be together. Things are in order to make this happen. Me, you, and Renee, for eternity. I’m so excited I’ve painted Renee’s nursery in your favourite colour, green. So much work to do, I’ll write to you again soon, Sarah. You won’t have to wait any longer. Yours forever, Glenn

“Is this Arias’ wife? What do you mean ‘bringing her back’?” Your whole body shudders at the thought.

“She’s dead. One of the many innocents that died in the wedding.” Jill almost punches the wall. “It should’ve been him.”

“He’s trying to revive her? …And have children with the dead?”

“What kind of fucked up shit is he planning?” Jill is shocked, grossed, disgusted all at once on her face.

Meanwhile, Ada, calm and unreactive as ever, is rummaging through the safe again. “No sign of the sample—” Ada confirms, and she withdraws her hand holding a gold bar to transfer it into her gear’s pocket. “—another dead end.”

“Did you just steal something?” Jill is in disbelief.

“Mind your business.” Ada shoots back a glare at her.

“There’s something really fucked up going on in this mansion, and this is how you act? Have some sympathy for the dead, would ya?”

“It’s been dead for a while. Doesn’t matter what we do or what we say, they can’t hear it. All we can do is focus on the present.”

“Why you—” Jill stops midway, like she accidentally swallowed back her words down the wrong hole. Her head is throbbing, heart racing, body attacking her from all sides within. Her throat is closing up, and for a second, Jill can’t breathe. She falls; collapsing onto the table with a loud thump, barely supporting herself with her elbow. Jill coughs; there’s blood.

“Jill! Are you okay?” You cry out, running to her aid, your arm rounding across Jill’s shoulders. It feels cold. Dry. Like you’re touching the furless coat of a dead animal with no warmth left in them.

“I… nnh, I’m fine.” Her voice is straining, but there’s some breathing at least.

“Don’t be stubborn. The colour on your face is gone.” You dip your hand onto Jill’s forehead. The cold sensation fades, and now it’s warm to the touch again, burning like a fever. You question yourself whether the coldness before was an illusion. Bringing your arms around her, you reach to your earpiece. “I’m calling Rebecca.”

“No. Don’t.” She coughs even harder with her weight leaning against you; she’s turning frailer and frailer by the minute. “I’ll be fine. We need to s-stop Arias.”

That is when you hear a click, cold metallic surface pressing against the fabric of Jill’s back. The safety’s off.

“Ada?” Your voice escapes like a pleading squeal, a forced laugh through hopeful desperation that it’s all a prank, that Ada isn’t going to hurt and betray you, just like all the other times. “…What’s up with you?”

“Jill. Get off. Now.” Ada raises her volume to a stern demand, and this time, you know she’s definitely not joking. Jill ought to do as she says soon, or else both of you may catch the bullet with a press of Ada’s finger.

“Ada—” Your voice shrivels into a pitiful whisper. Betrayal again? After everything?

“Jill’s infected. Face it. Thought it was weird why you’re acting funny. The virus is in your body as we speak.” Ada points her gun at Jill.

“Wha—What’re you talking about?” Jill’s face turns white. She coughs once more, hard. There’s blood all over her hand and on the corner of her lips.

“Ada. We need to take her to the hospital now.”

“Does she look okay to you? I’m not going to save your ass again. So get out when I tell you to.” Ada’s finger is firm on the trigger. Determined.

Jill scoffs. “This again? So you’re working for Wesker? You’re trying to take us out one by one. It’s not gonna work.” With a weak grip, Jill grabs her pistol with her remaining energy to aim right back at Ada. Ada doesn’t shoot. She should’ve, but she can’t.

Ada’s guard is up again. “Believe what you want. If you’d like to die today, be my guest. I won’t hesitate to shoot.” She flicks her wrist, demanding you to move aside. “This is your last chance.”

“Ada, please listen! She wasn’t bit. We were together the entire time. You were there too, Ada! She can’t be infected. She can’t be—” You yell in distress, but your sentence trails off into a mumble.

“The gas. The gas has something to do with it.” Ada says.

“Won’t the two of us be sick too?” You say.

Ada’s eyes glare harshly against the two of you, but you can see her thinking, the cogwheels in her brain processing the facts, and her speculation wavers. There’s pity behind the cold blooded glint. Sympathy. Ada’s pistol lowers—

And that was the mistake that costs their lives. Jill turns, roundhouse kicking the pistol off Ada’s hand in her moment of vulnerability. The gun falls, crashing against the rug far from reach. Ada is already reacting, drawing her TMP out but Jill moves faster. Too steadfast. Too superhuman. She tackles Ada to the ground, hands steady against her neck.

Jill’s gaze is obscured by flames, something blinding and controlling from something within her veins and arteries. Despite looking directly at Ada, she can’t see, nor can she distinguish friend or foe. Her hand tightens around Ada’s windpipe, leaving her grasping for air.

You pull up your rifle in a panic frenzy, unloading your round onto Jill. But she does not flinch, does not even look your way. There’s a dent in her skin where your shots land, but there’s no blood. “Goddamit, what the fuck, Jill! What is wrong with you?”

But Jill can’t hear you. Only the crackle of flame and roar of wildfire burning and reverberating through her head. Echoing twice and thrice over. Ada is grunting soundless moans, still attempting at escape with how she continues to fumble for the TMP on her waist belt. Then, Jill steps on Ada’s hand with sheer force and unnatural strength, crushing the smooth palm with the sole of her feet, twisting it until all the delicate bones become unrecoverable. And all hope was lost again.

Jill sinks her teeth into Ada’s neck, not with much mercy either. There is a sound of flesh torn, a blood crying scream to taint the air. The blood velvet rug paints a deeper red and Jill releases. Ada flops to the floor, paralysed, but not deadly enough for a fatality. Her beautiful skin, once full of vigour and charm, stained red with her own blood, the veins around turning deeper purple thriving like tree roots across the earth.

You look at Jill—and she’s smiling. It’s not the slight curve of her lips you’re used to when you tell her that her haircut is nice. Or the reluctant embarrassed grin she has when you thank her for standing up for you. This was something else.

This was something from hell.

She’s no longer the Jill you know. ‘Jill’ turns around to meet you in the eye. You back away, rifle aiming forwards despite knowing it’s all fruitless. Your hands shudder from within, none of your shots will hit even if you try. But you had no choice. You have to try even if it’s fruitless. Then you aim at Jill directly on the head. It’s harder than it looks, killing your best friend, even if they are a zombie.

It misses and lands on her shoulder instead. There’s a notable grimace on Jill’s face as she flies to catch the bullet from within her shoulder. She flicks the bullet away and her grin spreads widely, and she chuckles a sinister giggle. “That hurts, you know…”

“Jill?” These BOWs aren’t supposed to speak. They should be monsters. This is your first time meeting one of these too, and you did not expect them to be one of your closest friends. You should be careful. If they can speak, do they have the intelligence to manipulate you too?

“What’s wrong, kitty?”

“Fuck you.” You grit your teeth. “I’m not turning into one of you.”

She merely laughs. “Admit it. You think this is hot.”

“Fuck off.” You have Jill’s eyes locked, other hand inching closer and closer to your back pocket, reaching for the radio. But it was no use. A hand—bloodied and broken—grabs you by your wrist, twisting it behind you forcefully. You wince. Ada is right behind you, her eyes looking into yours with the same blank stare Jill has. She’s turned. And so quick too?

“Our darling, can’t seem to stay put? I think it needs punishment.” Ada’s breath is blowing against your neck. You shiver.

“Oh… like what kind?” Jill’s eyebrows are raised and intrigued.

Jill answers the question herself by unsheathing her pocket knife. You swallow hard as she takes each purposeful step towards you, savouring in your fear. Your wrists struggle against Ada’s grip, which she responds by tightening it further that your bones are almost breaking from her touch.

“It’ll hurt more if you resist.” Jill drawls out her words, licking the surface of the knife. She brings her knife forward, laying the flat edge of the knife against your cheek, drawing a little blood at first, then a bit more droplets gather onto the knife. She slurps on it, licking the crimson nectar clean off her knife. “Just relax, kitty. It’s us. Jill and Ada. Your teammates.”

“We won’t hurt you, darling. You can trust us.”

For a moment, through the hazy blink of a spell, you see your friends. Ada, mysterious yet always saving you during trouble. Jill, indifferent yet is always the first to defend you. They’re absolutely right. These are your friends. They mean so much to you, and you’ve just realised that now. You’ll do anything for them.

You let your body relax, your eyes stare into Jill, then Ada, then back at Jill again. She caresses your cheeks in her palm, bringing your face closer to hers with lips that only want to close the distance, and you close your-

Wait! No. Stop this! This isn’t right!

-eyes, before your lips crash together in a series of tingles. Jill deepens the kiss, her tongue prying between the seams of your lips, meeting your own tongue in the middle. You still taste a bit of blood, but that doesn’t deter you from returning the kiss. Jill licks your lips once more before finally parting with a heaved gasp. You slowly open your eyes, before another pair of familiar lips comes colliding back on yours and you’re nudged to close them again. This is Ada’s lips, rounder, thicker, with an unexpected forwardness. She nibbles on your lips, demanding, making room between the gaps of your lips, and kiss you just as passionately as Jill did.

Between kisses, a button pops off. Then another. You help each other out of your fabrics. Earpieces removed, abandoned by the floor. Jill strips off Ada’s dress and bra, and you help Jill out of her skinny jeans. A paper scrunches up from her back pocket. It’s been torn by hand, scribbled a note on lined paper where the words are either smudged or peeled off. Only one word is still faintly visible.

[ WATER ]

What could it mean?

You spend no time to ponder with Jill pulling you back into the present. Your naked torsos flush against each other as the duo fight for another taste of your lips. They catch your breath, one after another, with no intention of letting you out of their sight. Jill brings her hand around you, her fingers are already sending-

I need to get out of here! I need to warn-

-a violent fizz through your body, and Ada helps you fall to your legs onto the velvet rug underneath you. All the whilst your lips are trapped in Jill’s, and so is your body.

“That’s it… Be our good little darling.” Ada slips right behind you, letting your relaxed body lean against her, then running a hand up your torso with the friction of her latex gloves, before settling against your neck in a firm grip.

“We’ll take care of you, kitty.” Jill whispers into your ear, and you can’t hear any malicious intent. Jill and Ada aren’t hurting you, some part of you is very sure about this.

Then you hear something. A faint sound in your mind, a warning, a scream from far away. It’s telling you to run, run so far and fast before it’s too late. “Nnh… I…” It rings in your ear like a constant drum, forcing you for a response. But why? You feel so good right now…

“Stay with us, darling.” Ada coos, moving downwards to kiss along the strip of your neck. She’s gentle, enchanting you in her lovingness. The voice grows fainter, like a distant chatter that fades into the background.

And their hands are all over you, exploring every curve your skin has to offer. The crook of your neck, the gentle folds between your belly, thighs filling out into their palms, plushness against plushness. With how both of their breasts lay against you, it reminds you of a marshmallow cloud, and you’re drifting away into it. Away from the mortal world where only the three of you remain.

Ada runs her hands down your body, her latex glove palming your cunt now, circling it fully and firmly. You feel everything move, your hips rutting to find more friction against your clit. And she retracts her hand, pressing down against your clit as if you hears your demands, holding you and your emotions hostage, before repeating all the motions again.

“Shh… We’ll take care of you, kitty.” Someone says this, you don’t know who. You are much too focused on the pleasure throbbing in your body to notice. Ada moves her head downwards to watch your cunt more closely, pleasant to see you already drenching, soon to succumb to the inflictions of her loving touches.

“Goodness, so wet for me, darling.” Ada rewards herself with a finger down the stripe of your cunt, scooping your juices with the latex and licking her finger clean. Ada is taking her time with you, pecking gentle kisses along the seam. A few times you feel the firm pad of her tongue on you, but she retracts it before you can truly react to it.

Jill is still kissing you; her hands are groping her own breasts to satisfy herself, while you lay limp under the command of the two. You moan back into the kiss, clearly aroused by Ada toying with your body underneath, and she grows increasingly jealous: “Having all the fun without me?” She abruptly parts your lips, and gently lowers your back onto the floor.

“Come on, kitty. Help me come too.” Jill pecks one final kiss on you, which you, too engrossed in the knot in your chest to struggle to even pucker your lips. She rounds her legs over your face, and your face is shaded with the shape of Jill’s cunt. Her arousal glistens in the darkness, seemingly twitch, maybe a bit vulnerable with how your eyes are fixed upon her aching parts.

“Put that tongue to good use, kitty.” Jill drops herself onto your face, fucking herself onto your nose. A moan escapes her lips, and yours too, your grunt muffled underneath the pressure, but she can still feel the vibrations through her cunt. She ruts against you, a signal for ‘more’, and you obey. You stick your tongue in, swirling and springing your tongue to feel Jill’s walls against the flat surface of your tongue.

Jill lifts herself temporarily, just enough for you to breathe and release the groaning mess that is trapped in the back of your throat. She slams herself back down onto you again. Your breath quickens, back arches in; you’re close. So fucking close. Ada isn’t stopping now, her lips are flushed against your cunt, extending her entire tongue inside of you to tonguefuck you until your heavy breathing is inside of Jill’s cunt.

“I.. nnh…fuck…” You cry, a tear gathering in your eye.

“Don’t be shy, kitty. Just let it all out.” Jill looks down at you, grinning, taunting. She drives her cunt deeper onto your face. And with her encouragement, you do. The sensation wells inside of you, stimulated on both end bringing your orgasm to escalate in speeds unimaginable. Your juices start to flow, without warning—you couldn’t control it even if you tried—and all your fluids spills directly onto Ada’s face, catching into her eyes.

“That’s it. Well done, kitty.” Jill praises, smoothing a hand over your hair.

Ada doesn’t wince from your juices in her eye, she doesn’t even feel the pain. Her irises are shifting red from her kind hazel brown. Her skin, paling, wherever she was applying pressure at you, those parts of her turns distinctly blue. And that’s when reality hits you: you don’t know them. But there’s no stopping now. It’s too late. At least you can make your death memorable—enjoyable—by getting fucked inside out.

Jill is feeling it too, her hips shaking, your tongue going into overtime eating her out, until she finally releases. She tries to lift herself off, but it was too late when Jill begins to squirt, her one finger guiding herself on her clit, drenching your face and some of your hair with her fluids. You wipe your face off with your hands, huffing and puffing. Whatever you two had, it was intense. Far more intense than any relationship you had with any other sex.

Ada lands right next to you on the rug. She’s reaching down to circle on her own clit and thrusting her fingers inside of her dripping mess at the same time. God, Ada looks so hot touching herself.

“Please. Ada. I want to taste you too.” You nudge Ada’s fingers out of herself, giving them a lick to clean those pretty, battered fingers off. Even damaged, her manicure is still perfect, and the skin still feels soft to the touch. You roll on top of Ada, exchanging places with Ada’s fingers to bottom her out.

Ada’s cunt is so smooth, cleaned and trimmed, just as put together as the rest of herself. Her hole is wide open, as if taunting you with how much she can take at one time. You hook her legs over your shoulder now, pressing them down closer to her body and reaching over to her swollen nipple to pull against it. When your fingers enter her, it’s like dipping your finger into melted butter. With one finger, it was loose. So you add one more finger, then another, until all four of your fingers are deep in her cunt.

“God, Ada.” You swallow back a heavy drool. “You’re all stretched out.”

“I have higher pain tolerance like this. That’s the best part about being a zombie.”

“Does that mean I can…” You thought four fingers was Ada’s limit, but after wiggling your hand around, you manage to slip the fifth finger inside. Ada lets out a delighted whine, swallowing your entire fist with a quick rut of her hips.

My god, Ada looks so beautiful like this. With how big she’s taking in, you swear that she’s more used to this than she’s letting on. But you don’t get to ponder long, because Jill is right behind you. She’s watching over you, grabbing your cheeks from behind and something is nudging between your thighs.

“I want to try something on you.” There is a belt around her, and a strap bouncing high and proud into the air. “Stick up your butt for me, kitty.”

The idea of getting fucked by Jill excites you very much. You perk them up, despite your eagerness, you don’t want to lose momentum with Ada in front of you, still squirming under your control. You expect your cunt to meet with Jill’s silicone tip, but instead she puts some kind of device inside of you. It vibrates in the lowest setting, only a tingle of sensation in your already aching and throbbing pussy.

“J-Jill?” You let out a low grunt, unsatisfied. The device is so small, you still feel empty even as it vibrates within you.

“Don’t worry, kitty. I’m just gonna write some thing on your body. It won’t hurt, I promise.” She picks up a knife, previously abandoned in the corner. She runs the sharp end of the knife along your ass cheeks, and you wince as Jill drags the knife down until it carves off a letter. ‘J’ on your left cheek, ‘A’ on your right cheek.

“Kitty looks amazing with our initials on it.” Blood is trailing along your butt. Jill lied. It hurts a lot. But the combination of pain on your skin and pleasure of the vibrator takes you to your wits end. Jill makes up for it by consoling the cuts, planting kisses and licking the blood off your cheeks. Then she grasps harshly onto the plush meat, and the pain is back again.

“Kitty…” She coos, fingering out some of your stickiness to lubricate the silicone. It lines up against you, ready for entry. You take in a deep breath, and Jill shoves all of her length in one go. Your body flinches, tongue stopping for a moment to recollect your composure as your internal walls fight to wrap both the vibrator and Jill’s strap at the same time, filling you up so fully.

“That’s it, kitty. Take in both me and the vibrator. Feel so good right now… So good for us.”

But she’s not stopping. Not intending to stop until you come over and over again, until you stain the rug with every bit of your juices. Moans ripple through the room. Each thrust heavy and welcoming to your pussy as you stretch wide to accommodate to this newfound size. You chase your euphoria, as it crash at you wave after wave of limitless pleasure. Jill tips you further into overstimulation, fucking the fluids of your orgasm back inside of you.

But you can’t speak, despite the desire to release your choked out breath, you are determined to make Ada come too. She’s close. You press her legs further down to flex her into a pretzel, her thighs touch her head, and your fist finds its easier to reach her cervix, abusing at her favourite spot over and over again until she’s bound to release her fluids onto your hand.

“You’re mine now…” Jill and Ada speaks almost simultaneously.

And the rest of the night was a blur. You aren’t sure how many times you came tonight, you only feel the aftermath of it. The inside of your walls are sore, penetrated repeatedly by tongue and silicone, and you find your consciousness fading… and fading… until you are gone completely.

A buzz. It rings in your ear like a fly in your sleep. Is this your alarm? No… Did you not leave for Arias’ mansion? How long ago was that? Why are you asleep? And where’s Jill and Ada?

You are alone. The portraits watching your naked body as you lie—criticising you? You hear the windows clacking against the hinges, night air whining inside and all over your bareness. But you don’t feel cold. Your body hasn’t felt anything in a while. Joints weakened everywhere and your lips feel like something dried over.

You hear the buzz again. This time much closer. There’s static. It’s saying something.

“Ji- Ad-”

You move your limbs, cumbersome from the soreness of your muscles, to reach to the sound underneath your clothes. An earpiece. You fumble it on.

“Jill! Ada! Are you guys there? Come on, why won’t this damn thing work?”

It’s Rebecca. You know this girl. From somewhere. It’s getting harder to think.

“Reb—” You try to talk, but it escapes like the low grumble of a zombie. You don’t have much time left.

“Finally! Thank god it’s you! Are you guys safe?”

“Water... It’s the water… The water’s infected…” You muster whatever bit of strength left to talk.

“Hello?? Shit. I can’t hear you… What did you say about the water?”

Your eyes feel heavy. It sinks without intention. All that remains is a fragile pulse at the hearth of your body. Not enough for you to move or think. Darkness envelops you, and there is silence once again in Arias’ office.

Then, a man steps into the room.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. kissing @scar-crossedlvrs and @obsolescent for beta reading this!!!! tags: @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @daydreamrot @madcap-riflette @access--granted @obsolescent @briermelli @secretiveauthor @ghosty-frog @navstuffs @slowcryinginthedark @rentaldarling @lesbntired @redvleanli @vinsiliors @whoisgami @gaylorvader @wxwieeee @eddsthemunson © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱ #jill valentine x reader #ada wong x reader #jill valentine #ada wong #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x you #resident evil smut #kinktober 2023 #resident evil fanfic #resident evil vendetta #glenn ariasres #jill valentine x you #ada wong x you #smut #resident evil x y/n #resident evil

[minnaci]

🔮 LESSONS IN CONTROL

contents: ascended!astarion x gn!reader (tav), dubcon, hand-wavey mind control magic, heavy possessiveness, master/pet titles used, canon-typical objectification and condescension of tav/self-insert by ascended astarion, reader is needy and also smitten, fingering, penetrative sex (reader receiving in unspecified hole), praise kink, lovey dovey sex depending on ur interpretation of whether or not astarion genuinely loves tav/self-insert (if it helps, i wrote it with the mindset that he does love you)

a/n: wahoo!! second week let's go! please accept my first bg3 / astarion fic <3 he's so... so... i wanna kis his FACE!! as always, rbs & comments are appreciated!

you will never tire of the way that astarion looks at you, even now. there’s a covetous kind of adoration that shines in his eyes, a sort of smug, devoted possessiveness that makes your skin ache to be touched by him.

“there’s my little treat,” he purrs, welcoming you into his lap. his hands come up to rest on your hips, where they belong. “my sweet, darling pet… whatever is the matter?”

“i miss you.” you press up against him, petulant in the way you know he loves to indulge. “will you come to bed with me?”

“oh? surely, i have not been neglectful.” he doesn’t kiss you as much as he possesses you, licking into your mouth with a single-minded desire that makes your head spin. “after all, it was only last night that i took you until you could barely breathe from the pleasure.”

“but i could never have enough of you,” you say, punctuating your words with sweet kisses. “i’m addicted to you, master. i can’t help myself. whenever you’re not touching me, i ache for you.”

“needy,” he clicks his tongue. the taste of his condescension is sweet on your tongue. it drips over your skin, sticky and golden as honey. this is what you live for— this love, this obsession, this subjugation. “but far be it for me to deny you. where it is it that you ache, my dearest? is it… here?”

he dips his head, leaving a trail of warm, sloppy kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, down to your chest. the subtle point of a fang grazes against your nipple, and you gasp as his lips follow, suckling at your chest. neither of you have been warm-blooded or warm-bodied in centuries, but heat still shoots through your body at the way his mouth feels against your skin.

“l-lower, master— i need you, i—”

“lower?” his fingers trail down your stomach, slipping between your legs and rubbing at your leaking hole with well-practised grace. “here?” 

“please, please stop teasing, master,” the words pour from you, a font of desperation. his presence is overwhelming in the best way. your chest heaves as you try to contain the abject desire that threatens to burst from your heart. “inside. i need you inside. please.”

his smile is a knife’s blade across his face— sharp, swift, satisfied. “how is it that you only grow more perfect for me with each and every day?”

if you were in your right mind, you might answer: of course you’re perfect for him. he’s molded you to fit his desires, rewarded you with pleasure beyond your wildest dreams in exchange for your submission. his love, his control— they’re one and the same. 

love as subjugation. love so strong it rips you at the seams, remodels you in astarion’s image. this is what you crave. this is everything to you—

your mind goes blank as his finger breaches your hole. you’d prepared yourself for him— of course you had— and both you and your master reap the fruits of your labor. he makes a soft, pleased sound in the back of his throat, feeling how pliant you are, how warm you are, and even the barest hint of his approval makes your head spin with heady bliss. 

his fingers stretch you out, stroking along your sensitive walls and easily finding your favorite spots. you let out a soft, shuddery sigh, melting into astarion's shoulder as he fingers you open. he coos and curls his fingers just so— a reward for your easy submission. 

ever since his ascension, astarion has changed— this much is undeniably true. what hasn't changed, though, is his uncanny ability to play your body like the finest of instruments. if he hadn't trained your hole so well, perhaps you'd be satisfied to sit on his fingers forever, drooling your brains out on the fine fabric of his regalia. as it is, your body hungers for more. 

a wordless whine escapes your lips.

“i know, my sweet. i’ve been so mean, haven’t i? i said i would stop teasing, yet here you are, so horribly teased.” he gives you a few more indulgent thrusts, taking his time to enjoy every shudder and shiver he pulls from your willing body. “and you’ve been so patient, too. so perfect.”

he pulls his fingers from your body, making a deep, satisfied noise at the way your walls cling to him, as if loathe to let him go. you mourn the loss, soul singing a requiem. every moment that he is not inside of you is suffering. 

“shh, i know. i know,” he hushes you, soothes you, gently caressing your skin. “let me make it up to you, my love. what does your little heart desire? just speak the words, and i shall give it to you.”

a reward. your master is gracious, kind, and perfect. even being in his presence is reward enough. but, if he truly wants to reward you… there is only one thing you crave. there is only one thing you have ever craved, and you know he craves it, too.

“control me, master,” you plead. “compel me. please. i want you to.” 

“however could i say no?” something sweet and distinctly desirous shines in his eyes, and he captures your lips in a deep, drugging kiss. his control envelops you, familiar and warm as the olympian hearth. when he pulls back, you remain connected to him by a thin, shimmering strand of saliva, and by the twin sparks of lust that burn in your bellies. "my treasure." 

his will wraps around you, diffuses through your limbs, and your mind quiets. there's nothing quite like this— this bliss, this pleasure. it makes you feel so, so good, just to submit, just to obey. 

you feel his commands nudging at your mind, puppeting your body. saccharine devotion rises up within you, and you shudder with delight. so this is the game tonight— he wants you needy, wants you adoring, wants you fawning over his every move. 

you'd give it to him even if you weren't under his thrall. such is the unconditional nature of your love. if he became a twisted, soulless version of himself, you would twist yourself to match him, and you'd pour enough soul into him to sustain him too. 

"love me," he murmurs against the shell of your ear. "give me everything of you, and love me." 

“yes,” you breathe, desperate supplication to the only god you know. if your master’s control had been any less potent, you would believe that you were acting of your own accord. but… this is good, too. just because he’s drawn the words from your lips doesn’t make them any less genuine. “i love you, astarion.”

“there’s my perfect little pet,” he says. something flashes across his face— something you don’t recognize, something that hints at regret. the urge to kiss the sadness from his expression is familiar, and not completely contrived. “i love you, too.”

his hands find your hips, and he finally, finally sinks inside of you. your eyes flutter shut, intent on luxuriating in this pleasure to the fullest. there is no greater joy than when astarion is inside of you, filling you, making you his. there is no greater glory than serving your master.

“astarion,” your breath catches in your throat as he rolls his hips up. his cock drags deliciously against your sensitive walls. he stimulates you mercilessly, making sure to pay attention to all of the spots that make you go weak and dizzy and pliable. you cling to him, melting against his shoulder as he thrusts up again and again and again. “i— i’m— astarion!”

“i’m here, little love,” he purrs. “it feels good, doesn’t it?”

“so good,” you say. it comes out as a soft little sob. “i— you— wait, astarion, i— oh!” 

he shifts your weight in his lap, and the slightest change in angle lets him slip just a bit deeper. the tip of his cock kisses a painfully sensitive spot deep inside, and your eyes widen, shock quickly giving way to pleasure. he’s so deep. you’re so full.

“there it is,” he coos. “that’s right. look at you, taking me nice and deep. i can practically taste it, you know. how good you’re feeling.”

your body is his. he owns it. he controls it. the barest hint of a command nudges at the corner of your mind, and you let go of the lingering pain. your gaze goes unfocused, and your jaw slackens. you have never believed in an eternal paradise, but if you did, you think it might feel something like this.

“that’s it. you’re really feeling it now, aren’t you? just keep feeling good for me, darling.”

you slip in and out of lucidity, after that. your body is a livewire of sensations, melting under astarion’s gentle, sensual caresses. nothing matters besides him. it doesn’t even matter if you cum, though you’re sure you do. astarion would never let you feel anything but pleasure. he would never let you go unsatisfied. you love him, after all. this tender dance of flesh and bliss is what lovers do.

re-emerging into reality is like breaking through the fog of a lovely dream. you come to with your cheek resting against his chest, body clean and dry and delightfully sated. though you know he hasn’t had a pulse for several hundred years, you swear you hear the gentle thud of his heart beating as he traces absentminded patterns over your skin. 

“did i love you well?”

“you were perfect.” a soft smile pulls at his lips. warmth floods your chest, followed by a pang of… of something. something aching, something hurt. you brush it aside. there is no room for hurt in his arms. you have loved him well. you have pleased him.

“thank you,” you murmur, a tender prayer against his skin. the last of his influence drains from your limbs, and you’re once again in full control of your own mind. the loss of his familiar presence in your mind hits you like waves crashing upon the shore. “i miss you already, master.”

he considers you with an inscrutable expression, and he sighs, warm and playfully exaggerated. again, you catch a hint of that odd, misplaced resignation. it almost makes you pout. is he unhappy with you after all? is he dissatisfied?

the need to reassure, to be reassured, drives you forward, and you pepper chaste kisses over the elegant curve of his jaw, the hollow of his throat. your sloppy adoration draws a soft laugh from his lips, and satisfaction settles in your heart once more. 

“you’re so needy, darling,” he says, nuzzling his nose against yours. “but i love you for it.”

the declaration soothes you— a healing balm for all of your little aches and pains. he always knows just what to say to keep you wrapped around his finger. 

“i’d do anything for you,” you say, and you mean it. “i’d give anything for you. everything, all of me, for you.”

the words darken his gaze, snuffing out the spark of regret you’d sensed in his expression for good. your heart flutters. this is how your master should look— confident, powerful. satisfied. happy.

a smile curls, smoke from the ashes, on his lips. it’s sharp; it bleeds at the edges, dark and possessive. “i know, little love. all of you, for me. just as it should be.”

#writemin! #astarion x reader #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 smut #+astarion

[pixiedust-95]

Sundress Temptation

Summary: Toji x reader You're clearly horny for your best friend's dad and he knows. After all, he is too.

C/W: Explicit content. Pining, jealousy, misunderstanding, objectification I guess. Age gap, Daddy kink, praise kink, lots of pet names, thigh riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, tiny baby hint of other kinks. A bunch of dirty talk, probably too much. ehehe ok bye

---

You’re so obvious. It’s precious, really.

He thinks you’re not even fully aware. He’ll catch you while he’s in the middle of an angry rant about work, your eyes both unfocused and at the same time heavily fixated on his hands. He won’t even finish what he was saying, just looks amused as you blink slowly, owlishly. He’ll flex his fingers a little, even, showing off how big they are, how they can move, what they could do to you. This affects you greatly, by the way your eyes become half-lidded with lust, and your thighs press together with need.

This affects him greatly, too. Before he remembers who he is.

“Sweetheart, you okay?”

You gasp, shocked back into your reality, a reality where he isn’t touching you with those godly hands. “S-sorry, I… just got a little lost in thought.”

He hums innocently. “About what?”

Just because he can’t have you, doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun.

He enjoys the way your cheeks redden, as you become suddenly unable to look at him. “Just uh, you know, college shit. Bunch of assignments, gotta ask Meg a couple things.”

His eyes darken a little. “Right. Go on then, he’s upstairs, I got a couple of calls to make.”

“Ah, okay, uh good seeing you Toji-san.”

He notices your furtive glance at his hands again before he moves into the kitchen to quench his growing thirst.

You’ve been staring.

He knows. He’s been staring at you even longer.

---

He remembers the first time you met. Meg casually mentioned that a new friend would be coming over right then and there alongside Yuji and he wanted to introduce his dad, and not that Toji would care ordinarily, but he was in the middle of getting ready for a date and not happy about the interruption.

Until he saw you. Pretty, sweet, polite you, looking incredibly flustered as he was still topless, having not finished getting dressed, indignantly telling his son to make it quick – not that he regretted seeing your reaction.

“Alright, you can finish getting ready for your date now, dad.”

He noticed your expression shift, more downcast, and told you all it had suddenly been cancelled (his date is still pissed to this day).

After that first conversation he learned that you shared a few classes with Meg and Yuji, that you were top of the class (after Meg, he didn’t fail to clarify smugly), that you were extremely competitive (judging by your resulting pout), but blindingly kind and caring, speaking nothing but praise about the two boys.

He saw the way Megumi looked at you as you spoke, and learned something else.

---

You came over several more times after that, disappearing into Megumi’s room for long periods of time. He never asked what you kids were up to, his son sheepishly mumbling about homework before dragging you up there. He didn’t want to think about it.

You would without fail come down to see him, though. Usually under some pretense of getting water, a snack, Megumi falling asleep early. Not in a hurry to go home, somehow comfortable enough to just hang around him, ask him about his work, watch shitty TV together.

It was the best part of his day.

--- “Toji-san?”

He murmurs your name almost in wonder as he opens the front door. He was just thinking about you, and here you are.

“Hey darling, Meg’s not here at the moment.”

He notices a couple of very intriguing details. Subtle, yet perceptible to someone who has watched you so much he can count the freckles on your face. Your lips, always captivating, look extra enchanting today, tinted red with a sheen. But what he really appreciates is your cute sundress, a dainty, floral piece with an alluring thigh slit, and a neckline that accentuates your cleavage. You look… very nice today. His eyes wander over the exposed flesh greedily as you speak.   

“Oh yeah, I know he’s away. Sorry, guess it’s habit to come here, I can leave if you’re busy-“

“Stay. Uh, come in, I just finished a workout.”

He doesn’t mean for that to draw your attention to him in particular, it was the truth, but enjoys the way your eyes rake over his sweaty body nevertheless before bouncing inside with a newfound spring in your step. He tuts silently with a smile as he lets you in. You were so energetic. And so horny.

“Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you anything? Tea? Water? Beer?”

You smile teasingly. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Water first,” for a thirsty girl, he jokes to himself.

“Mm yes please!”

He’d heard you beg before in his dreams. He shakes that thought off as he fills up two glasses. When he comes back you’re spread on the couch, on your back, absentmindedly watching the news. He uses the moment before you see him to appreciate your figure, eyes wandering over your thighs and the way the hem of your little dress rises as you stretch your arms back with a yawn. He feels a growing ache, one that he needs to address before it gets worse.

“Water for the pretty lady.”

You beam beautifully at him, reaching for the glass and hurriedly taking gulps, uncaring of the way drops trickle past your lips, down the column of your neck, reaching your cleavage. He doesn’t think it’s an accident when your finger dips slightly below the v-neckline of your dress to catch a drop, tracing it back up your chest, and he imagines his tongue doing the same.

“I’m showering.” Toji announces suddenly. “Uh, you know where the beer is if you want.”

--- Fucking tease, he thinks without any malice, chanelling that energy into furiously palming his cock as water runs down his body. An array of images is brought forth to his mind, spurring him along. Your plump lips hungrily swallowing the water, how they could fit so perfectly against his. Your smooth thighs, looking so touchable, so kissable, how they could wrap around his waist as he grabs at your ass. Your cute doe eyes, looking so interested in what he has to say, when he groans about work, when he admits he doesn’t know how to be a better father to his son, filling him with warmth when you reassure him that he’s doing good. That he’s not a complete fuck-up.

The hungry way you unashamedly undress him mentally, look at him pleadingly.

Would you look at him like that as he’s stuffing his cock into your mouth? Like he’s giving you everything you ever wanted? Begging him not to stop?

--- Once he feels he has regained enough control to survive whatever sultry performance you throw at him, he joins you for a beer. You’re looking at some of the framed photos sitting on the coffee table. He digs out an album and shows you pictures of baby Megumi which you coo at cutely. You have a different reaction to seeing a younger Toji, and shyly ask to see more.

“What, old me not hot enough for ya?”

“Y-of course you are and that was a rhetorical question wasn’t it?”

He laughs, pleased by your reddening cheeks, and can’t help pinching one slightly.

“Toji-san!” You whine, and he has to work extra hard to remain composed.

“You’re just too cute not to tease, sorry darling.”

As he continues showing you pictures and regaling you with stories whilst you finish up your beers, you end up moving closer until your head is resting comfortably on his chest, his arm instinctively moving to wrap around your shoulders. His fingers trail down one of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He barely notices until you stutter in the middle of a comment, and then he sees you fixating on the way his hand encloses around yours, teasingly tracing your fingers.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, noting your reaction; your breathing gets a little heavier, your legs press together. He also looks for any sign of discomfort, of any awareness of the situation you might show. He’s certainly aware, but too entranced to stop.

You hum, with a hint of intrigue. “Your hands… they’re big.”

“Hm?”

Before he can really do anything about it, you’ve taken a hold of his hand, examining his digits, and stick your tongue out to give a curious little lick. He inhales sharply. You slowly coax one, then two of his fingers into your mouth and he stops breathing.

When he finds his voice, he tries to be the grown-ass adult he should be. “Baby.”

You moan at the petname, and he silently berates himself because of course he knows you like that.

“You should’t-we can’t. Megumi.”

Your lips release his fingers with a‘pop’ that resounds temptingly. “Mmm, Megumi doesn’t need to know I’m sucking his Daddy’s fingers.”

Toji groans more desperately, feeling a sudden tightness in his pants. “Stop, he doesn’t deserve this.”

You huff, slightly irritated. “Deserve what? He only thinks it’s a little weird I’m into you but like, he’s fine with it.”

“He-what? You’ve… discussed this?”

“Well, I don’t tell him all the details,” you whisper with a smirk. “He doesn’t know the thoughts I have. What I want you to do. What I want to do to you. But he says it’s none of his business, as long as I’m happy and you don’t hurt me. And I don’t think you will. Unless I want you to.”

His pupils blow a little wider at how confident you’re being at playing the seductress. He just needs to confirm…

“None of his business, huh? So I got this completely wrong? You’re not dating?”

You pause in confusion, before letting out a cackle of disbelief. “You’ve really not noticed? The way he looks at Yuji? Poor little me has to hear all about it everytime I come over.”

No. No he hadn’t, really. Because he’s always been looking at you, though he supposes he could figure it out in retrospect. Before he can ponder this revelation (and how to best show his support to his son), you sit up to face him, palms placed flat against his chest. His heart hammers, wondering what you’ll do. Then, against his expectations, you press a kiss on his cheek, and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Wide-eyed, he soon reciprocates, hands rubbing up and down your back as he hears your meek confession.

“I’m sure it’s obvious but I… I really like you. But like, more than just a “I wanna fuck my best friend’s dad”. Which is definitely true.”

He chuckles against your head. “I know. And for the record, I feel the same.”

“You wanna fuck your best friend’s dad?”

“Funny. Seriously sweetheart, I can’t even tell you how much you mean to me. Just your company is more than enough, wouldn’t have even dreamed you’d want more.”

“I dream about it all the time. You wanna know what I dream about?”

The teasing lilt comes back, and he smirks. “Why don’t you show me?”

Your hands move up and down his chest, eyes wandering towards his groin, his thighs, before meeting his intense gaze.

“Can I kiss you?”

You ask so sweetly, and before he knows it, his lips press against yours first, fingers tangling themselves in your hair. It’s a few curious kisses, leading to longer, lingering ones before you pull away breathlessly.

“No fair, I was gonna do that first!”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. You can take the lead for the rest, if you like.”

It’s not often he gives up control to anyone, but if it’s you…

“Hmm, no, want you to. Maybe next time.”

He grins wildly, pushing you down onto the coach and following suit for several more kisses. The offer is still there, but he’s nonetheless thrilled you want him to take the reins. You sigh happily against him as his tongue glides against your bottom lip, licking your lipgloss, and then your tongue. You explore each other languidly, enjoying the taste, the feel of something you had both been longing for, for so long. He pulls away, a string of saliva briefly connecting you, and once again he looks. At your disoriented expression, eyes fluttered shut, drool catching at the side of your pretty mouth (which he licks at), chest heaving temptingly. Your back arches with need, unable to quite express what it is you need, just letting out little moans as he kisses down your neck, a greedy hand trailing up your thigh, dragging the hem of your dress with it.

“These are the fingers your little mouth sucked on,” he muses, and you clench your thighs together until he pulls them apart and lifts them up around his hips. “What did you imagine, hm? What do you want these fingers to do?”

“Don’t-don’t know-ah!”

His hand rubs at the top of your thigh, enjoying the warmth of your skin there. You tighten your legs around him, moving your hips to try and catch his hand where you need him. “Don’t know, huh? You were pretty vocal earlier, you know.” He suckles at your neck, a finger ghosting over your panties much to your delight judging by the the needy moan that elicits, before pulling away.

“Fuck, Toji!”

Toji snickers, ignoring his growing ache and instead wrapping his arms under your arching back to pull you onto his lap.  “God you’re so horny sweetheart aren’tcha? I make you feel like that?”

“Y-yeah,” you sniffle, “always feel like that around you.”

“Hmm?” He spurs you on as one of his large hands sweeps down your neck towards a breast, slowly swirling a clothed nipple with his palm, eliciting gasps. “Poor baby. So sensitive, yeah?”

Your mouth is open, eyes fluttering shut as you ground down against his clothed thigh. “A-ah, feelssogood, please, please,”

There was the begging he couldn’t stop dreaming about.

“Please… who?”

Your eyes screw shut even tighter, almost stunned that he knows exactly what you’re thinking, what you like, what he is to you. But then, you suppose you’ve never been that subtle.

Toji thinks he’s taken it too far when you don’t answer, musing that he won’t push it for now, maybe another time, until he hears your voice so faintly he almost misses it.

“D-daddy, please…” you breathe out, head bowing down to the crook of his neck to hide your embarassment. “Please make me feel good.”

He exhales sharply, cock twitching, as his hand comes to stroke your head that burrows even further into him. “Good girl.”

He moves you up slightly so you’re sitting snuggly on his groin, letting you resume your needy grinding on him. He groans in your ear, still stroking your hair. “I’ll do, ha, whatever you want baby. Can help you come however you want.”

You hump him even faster at that, more desperately, and his other hand strokes down your back almost in reassurance.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Wanna come on my lap like this? Sound like you’re real close.”

He can feel your warmth, your wetness, dampening through the fabric of your panties and his trousers. Your little mewls drive him crazy, going straight to his cock. One of the delicate straps of your dress has fallen past your shoulder, inviting him to kiss, then bite the flesh there. Moving down, he decides he must pay service to your beautiful tits, and so he pulls the other strap down and nudges the neckline until he’s greeted by your perked up nipples.

Immediately, his tongue flicks against one before capturing it in his mouth and sucking desperately. You cry out, wail, hips moving erratically until he feels a flood of wetness.

“Fuck baby, did you come?”

You almost start sobbing. “Please, not enough, please,”

“Need you to use your words, what do you need?”

“Just, touch me, anything, please, my-my pussy.”

“Lift up your dress.”

The gentle, authorative tone has you scrambling to obey. He groans appreciatively at your submissiveness and the huge wet patch visible on your panties.

“Take your panties off too, darling.”

He wants to say more, wants to gush at how pretty you are, but he knows how needy you are for him. Almost as much as he needs you.

You rush to remove the offending clothing, flinging it away before resuming your previous position, and he only allows a brief moment to stare, enthralled at your wet little pussy and throbbing clit, dripping and clenching on his lap, before his hand cups you there, fingers moving to rub up and down your slit, rubbing the slick that gathers onto your clit. You wail again before biting your lip. “Fuck, so wet baby. Turn around.”

Again, without question, you turn to sit on his lap, legs spreading as far as they’ll go to give him all the access he needs. “Want Daddy’s fingers inside?”

“Yes, yes yes,”

He smiles, pushes his middle finger inside, and finds he cannot stop talking from there.

“Jesus you're so tight, so wet around me. Want another? Want me to stretch your little cunt? There we go- don’t know how we’re gonna get my cock in you sweetheart, it’s gonna be a big fit but I know you can take it, you’re so good for me. Can fucking feel you dripping all over, gonna fuck you with my fingers, okay?”

You can barely keep up with his words but nod ferociously at the prospect of his thick fingers fucking you, and when they do you keen. “A-ah Daddy, so-good-“

You dimly register the movement of his hips as he presses his hard cock, still confined in his now stained sweatpants, against your back. He kisses your hairline before moving to your ear. “Good thing no one’s here, your messy pussy’s being so loud baby.”

It’s fucking unfair, how relatively composed he seems whilst saying the dirtiest things to rile you up. It’s certainly hard not to notice the squelching as his fingers pound into you, so unashamedly loud, resounding in the room as you drip down his fingers, down your legs (and his), and onto the couch. You squirm uncontrollably, so much so he has to hook one of his legs over your thigh to keep it spread open, arm tightening its hold across your waist as you take his relentless fingerfucking like his good little girl. When his fingers curl you gasp and sob, stuttering out incomphrensible words that let him know you’re close again.  

“Ffffuck I-fuck p-pleasepleaseplease gonna-fuck-coming!”

“Do it for me princess, come,, let it all out, then you’re gonna taste yourself since you like my fingers in your mouth so much, hm? My filthy girl.”

You let out a broken scream, muffled by his lips on yours as you gush around him, hands reaching out to grasp at his wrist, unsure if you’re needing him to stop or continue.

“Ah, fuck,” you gasp out when he pulls away, the hand holding you against him rubbing comfortingly at your skin.

“You come so beautifully, sweetheart.”

You give a watery smile, still overwhelmed with the aftershocks of pleasure. “Heh, thanks.”

“Can you open your mouth for me?”

You do so dutifully without much thought, awaiting his fingers. He waits a little, looking tenderly at your mouth. “Tongue out.”

Your tongue peeks out instantly. Humming in acknowledgement, he finally takes his fingers from your still spasming pussy, observing the creamy essence that coats them, and wipes them against your tongue with a fascinated stare. “Such a good girl, cleaning her pussy juices off my fingers. Suck them.”

You moan at your taste, mouth enclosing around his fingers once again, making sure to lick every last bit off.

“Hm, can’t wait to taste your pretty cunt. Bet it tastes so sweet”

You release his fingers with a whine. “Can’t wait – need your cock. Now.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s cock needs to be inside you too. Let’s go to my bedroom, hm? Don’t want our first time to be on the couch.”

“Even though I’ve already made a mess of it?” You snigger, but lift your arms up around his neck anyway so he can carry you. You snuggle into his neck, feeling warm, cared for, at home, loving how easily he picks you up. The journey into his room takes too long for your liking, but you pacify yourself through kisses against his neck, first gentle, then gradually nipping at the skin, smiling at the resulting groan. “Like a little pain, Toji?”

A low growl resounds, rumbling deep from his chest. “You’re being a brat.”

“Hmm maybe we’ll have to explore that. I’d love to mark you all over.”

He responds by throwing you on the bed. “The only thing we’ll be exploring is my cock inside your tight little cunt, got it?”

You try to behave the meek little girl, biting your lip to sell the acquiescent, submissive act, but it cannot quite stop the upturn of your lips as you mentally bookmark his reaction, which includes his very noticeable erection. “Okay, Daddy. Come fuck me now, please?”

His eyes soften as he moves closer until he’s standing in front of you at the bottom of the bed. You look up at him as he cups your face, comprehending the pause in mood. “You sure?”

“I would hope nothing in my behaviour yet suggests otherwise. Yes, Toji, I am completely sure.” You pull him down until your lips meet, doing your best to convey as much assurance and desire as you can in a kiss. Your hands move to the hem of his shirt, fingers curling under to move it up his torso. “Want you. Please take me.”

After another desperate kiss, you both pull the clothing off, and you hungrily take in the sight of his broad, strong chest, fingers trailing down the firm plane of his abs. “Fuck. You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this.”

“If it’s even half as much as me thinking about you… it’s a lot.” He cuts himself off with a groan as you kiss and lick down his torso, hands palming at his clothed erection before pulling down his sweatpants.

You moan even a little too lewdly for you at the sight of his cock springing up to greet you. A frazzled part of your brain wants to talk to it, but mostly you want to taste him. Your tongue swipes across the angry, red tip, and he curses roughly. You look up at him with half-lidded eyes, hand wrapping around the base and pumping up and down, wanting to feel the hot firmness of his length. “I’m serious. Can’t stop thinking about how you’d taste, fuck myself to the thought every night. Want you in my mouth so deep, wanna choke on you. Heh you’re so big, don’t think I could take half of it.”

You move as if to test that hypothesis, mouth positioned at his tip, until he roughly pushes you onto your back. “No,” his voice comes out strangled. “Not now. Need to be in you, now.”

You pout only for a second before the fluttering of your pussy reminds you that you need that too and sucking the life out of his cock can wait for another day. Maybe tomorrow. So, you nod frantically.

He launches himself at you, kissing over your face, before moving back to remove your dress. “This dress.” He pauses, almost unsure what he was going to say, as if his mouth moved ahead of his brain. “You look beautiful.”

You beam. “I tried for you. So don’t rip it off, okay?”

“It is very tempting,” he grunts, but manages to remove it without a hitch, placing more feverish kisses on your breasts and running his hands up and down the sides of your body. You immediately hook your legs around him, needing to rub against his bare cock. “Wait-condom in the drawer.”

“I’m safe,” you whisper after a pause, almost shyly. “Is-is that okay? Are you? Wanna feel you.”

He strokes the side of your face tenderly, wanting to commit the next scene to memory. “Yeah baby? Sure?”

Your nod prompts him to rub his leaking tip up and down your slit, and you sigh, arms tightening around his neck to bring him in for another kiss. As he pushes the head of his cock into you slowly, your mouth hangs open against his, gasps from you both mingling together. He pulls back slightly before pushing in again, and continues shallow thrusts of just his tip, getting you adjusted. You squelch lewdly around him with every movement.

“A-ah, more,” you pant softly, “please, m’ready.”

Not wanting to tease either of you much longer after all the build-up, he pushes in slowly, watching your face reverently as your eyes flutter shut and your mouth hangs open. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

“S’good,” you barely get out, your voice sounding tight. “Just-slow.”

“’Course, pretty girl.”

Repeating the same movement as before, he pulls back, and pushes in more of his length, fucking you slowly, accompanied by soft kisses until you whine and try to pull more of him in. “T-Toji, you can go faster now.”

“Hold on baby, let me get all the way inside.”

Your eyes open, widening at the words. “Oh you-huh, you’re big.”

He snorts. “You saw it.”

“Yeah well, I think you gained a couple more inches since-ah!”

He thrusts particularly deeply, pushing the last few inches of his cock inside. “Fuck,” he groans, “Sorry, are you okay?”

You breathe shakily against his ear. “Y-yeah, fuck, fuck, you’re, can really feel you in there.”

Pausing to relish in the godly feel of your wet warmth hugging his cock, he looks down at your taut body to where you both are connected, groaning deeply when he notices the slight bulge on your abdomen, especially when he presses down against it. “Yeah, Daddy’s really splitting you open, hm? How do you feel?”

You sniff, hips trying to move against him, though he doesn’t budge. “Full. Don’t want you to leave.”

“Don’t think I could bear leaving at this point.”

His hands find purchase on your thighs, spreading your legs wide so he’s free to move. When he pulls back almost all the way and slams into you, you give a sinful wail that would almost concern him if not for your encouraging declarations that urge him on.

“Yesss, yesyesyes, fuck, fuck you feelsogood, ha-“

He quickens his pace, cock twitching as tears spill from the corner of your eyes and you continue to babble in delight. “So pretty baby,” he moans, kissing away the salty wetness from your face, “and so fucking tight, dripping on my big cock, I’m so proud.”

He feels you clench at the praise.

“Wanna keep you on my cock all the time. While I work, around my friends, show them how good you take me. Can I show them?”

You let out a hoarse cry, feeling your cunt, clit, heart throb. “Use me, Daddy. However you want. I’m yours.”

He growls, pushing your knees even further back until they almost touch your shoulders, pounding into you with renewed urgency. You can do nothing but helplessly take it, tightening quickly around him especially when the movement creates friction against your clit with every slam.

“D-don’t stop, please!” You let out a pretty whine.

As if he would. He was addicted.

“Gonna take good care of you, okay? Such a good girl for me,” he coos, seeing your eyebrows crease in a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. The shift in expression that signals you reaching your peak is just mesmerising to him; he loves how transparent you are with your pleasure. “Gonna come again for Daddy? Is this pretty pussy gonna get all messy around me?”

Your mouth hangs open as you squeal, feeling the tightening coil begin to snap. “D-daddy yesyes I’m coming-ah!”

Body thrashing within the limited space between his own caging yours, he helps you ride your orgasm out as he keeps pumping inside you, cock drenched with your juices. He lets out a guttural groan as he joins you in his own euphoric bliss, spilling inside you.

It feels like time stops for you, adrift in another dimension where you need to hold on to each other as tightly as possible lest you drift away.

Eventually you feel your soul return, but you still clutch at him desperately, a stifled sob escaping. Toji looks almost alarmed, forcing his collapsed body to shift to the side so he can scoop you into him more easily. “Darling, you alright?”

“Yeah,” you sniff, breathing heavily still, “it was really good, I just… feel…”

Overwhelmed, vulnerable? You can’t seem to verbalise it, but he thinks he understands. He doesn’t say anything, just squeezes you to him and rubs over your back in a soothing, repetitive motion. “Just need a moment, yeah? I’ll take care of you.”

The words bring forth a giggle. “You just did.”

“There are many ways to take care of a beautiful girl. One way is with my very talented dick. Another is cuddling, followed by cleaning her up, followed by more cuddling.”

“Hmm. And chocolate?”

“Chocolate could be involved.”

You nuzzle into him, smiling against his skin. “Thank you. That was, um, pretty incredible.”

He can think of many smug comments to say, about his performance, about how your three orgasms speak for itself, about how he’s so fucking relieved you’re not dating his son. He simply kisses you, one kiss for each of those thoughts as your limbs entangle.

You lay in his arms for a good while, until a thought nags at you.

“When is Megumi supposed to be back?”

“Hey Dad, I’m home.” A voice rings out from downstairs.

Well, there’s your answer.

“Wh-WHY is there underwear on the couch-DAD!”

“Ah, shit,” Toji mumbles into your hair, breathing you in deeply.

“Hm,” you look thoughtful for a second. “Well if he’s coming up anyway… MEGUMI, CAN YOU GET US SOME CHOCOLATE FROM THE KITCHEN PLEASE? THANKS.”

“What the fuck?!”

Toji sighs, unhappy about the incoming disturbance. Resigned to the inevitable chaos, he gives you a final kiss before wrestling you into his shirt. After all, he’s the only one who gets to look at you like this now.

#toji x reader #jjk smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen

[bluberryfields]

Halloween calls for DT in Fright Night gifs

#david tennant #fright night #peter vincent #proto-crowley #perfect guyliner #i want to climb him #or at least touch his hair #looking very respectfully #and not at all carnally #look at his hands #both an appreciation and an objectification #there's a lot to look at here #and it's all wonderful #soft scottish hipster gigolo #he's so pretty #and delicious #david tennant in chairs

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

I tried to think of something clever to say here, but my brain blue screened trying to drink him all in

#david tennant #david tennant in chairs #doctor who #fourteenth doctor #14th doctor #red nose day #legs for days #i wanna take a bite out of those drumsticks #no one has ever looked this good in plaid #good lord he's beautiful #i am very normal about him #both an appreciation and an objectification

[cock-holliday]

The ask has got me thinking more about how attraction is seen as synonymous with fetishizing or objectification. I do not think there is anything wrong with men being interested in queer women, or women being interested in queer men,

1. Because yes, they could end up being trans and suddenly a guy into queer women is really a queer woman being into queer women/a girl who liked queer men is a queer man himself

2. Bisexuality or other fluid identities exist and men who like men sometimes also like women, and women who like women sometimes also like men

3. No one is entitled to returned attraction!

The issue is not ever attraction or interest or even expressing attraction, it all entirely has to do with respect. I find a queer man who chats up a queer man with the expectation that “hey we’re both queer so you MUST like me back” to be significantly more entitled than a man inquiring politely if a queer woman might like him back.

If you ask nicely, do not make assumptions, and crucially do not act like a cunt if the person says no, then I do not think you have done anything wrong.

The recipient’s orientation may very well exclude your gender, or they simply may not be interested, and a conversation based in respect and appreciation is not an assault on the recipient.

I know the fear of being predatory or “like men” is so pervasive that it doesn’t stop at men courting women, so that many women are afraid to approach women because they think expressing their attraction is somehow an assault and it ISNT! You are not evil for your attraction, you are not predatory for being interested, and as long as you are respectful and will be a safe and understanding person to say no to, then there is no actual harm that has been done.

#this doesn’t even get into how queer people expressing interest in people in a queer way get accused of being an outsider fetishizing #like gay men who draw art of gay men MUST be a secret fujoshi pretending to be a gay man etc #LJsm

[max1461]

Honestly as much as I'm like "I appreciate media that is unabashedly horny", which is true, anime fan service is often a bit too much for me just on the level of like, my own taste. Uh it just comes across as crass and tacky a lot, it makes the work more difficult for me to enjoy.

I also think the argument that it's like, often problematic objectification is not wrong. Maybe that's obvious. But like, well, there's something subtle (or sometimes, not so subtle) which makes the difference for me between "media that feels horny in a 'fair' way" and "media which feels horny in 'gross' or 'gawking' way". Those are both poor terms but like, sexualized in a way that feels...

Well there's no easy line for me to draw here. There's nothing specifically that you can't do in work, IMO, there's basically no line that I'm like "categorically you can't cross that". But I do think you should be at least somewhat aware of the ideas your work is conveying about sexuality and society and so on.

Uh maybe what I mean is just "have tact". Like I don't mean "never try to titillate the audience", and I don't mean "all your titillation must sufficiently be subversive of social norms to be allowed", or whatever. Lots of people who say the thing I said in the last paragraph mean one of those things. But I don't. I just mean don't be a dumbass, maybe? I mean something. I mean be aware that like, while I don't a priori object to a work in which every female character's boobs flap around simply because the creator finds it hot, there are certain works where you really should not do that. You see? Things have to be... contextually appropriate, and I mean both the work's internal context but also its context in society as a whole. Right, because of social conditions, and you know, the way that women are treated, and shit, well you're all smart you all know, there's certain contexts in which it is not appropriate to have all the female characters have their boobs flop around. And many more contexts where it's sort of fine it just makes the work a bit worse.

Idk.

Cause like. There's some anime, actually a lot of it, that's just ridiculously straight-guy-horny and I'm just like "you know what, this is fine actually, this is great. I have zero problem with this." And then there's a lot that has all the same shit in it and I'm like "oof, that feels really inappropriate. That feels like a shitty portrayal, an insensitive thing to include, that's bad."

And the different is not the nature of the panty shots themselves it's everything around the panty shots, right. Does that make sense?

I feel like the is kind of the sensible synthesis of recent (and IMO correct) trends around like, idk, pro-horniness? Like sex positivity already means a specific thing but like, pro-horniness, you know, pro-desire (many people on this website are talking about such thing, and again I think correctly), with the IMO also true and important fact that like, objectification of women and so on is a real thing in media and it is actually problematic (I mean "problematic" in the naive sense, not as SJ jargon). Like maybe it's not problematic in the exact set of ways 2014 pop-feminism or anti-porn radfems or whatever say it is, but it's like. There are contexts in which I think you really probably should not be zooming in on the boobs and so on. Like, you feel me?

#navel gazing

[erissheiress]

Yours

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Warnings: slightly ooc Rhysand and Cassian, kissing, secret relationship, mentions of objectification, mention of Lucien's past, slight angst, fluffy ending.

Summary: Your hidden relationship comes to light, but you won't allow your mate to be disrespected.

Requested by anon

Word Count: 1911

Taglist: @reetriestbr @pandabiiissh

. . .

You blended in seamlessly into the walls of the Autumn Court, your black attire allowing you to blend in with the shadows. Today, however, there was no need for spying, or sneaking around. As your brother’s emissary, you had access to other courts when needed, when Rhysand needed you to represent the Night Court in his place. You had become quite comfortable travelling between courts, making friends with the nobility of some, such as Helion, yet the Autumn Court still sent a slight shiver up your spine.

Perhaps it was Beron’s cruel nature, or his several sons’ objectifying gaze, that made your job so difficult at times, of course not excluding the treatment of your friend Lucien. Not that you’d ever allow your brother or friends to learn of your discomfort carrying out your job in the Autumn Court, lest their protective natures damage the peace between courts. 

This particular task had been quite quick to resolve, a simple matter of deciding better trade routes between the courts, and you were quite content to finish up early, thank Beron for his time, and make your exit. Quick and easy, just as Rhysand liked it.

“Y/N?” Your brother’s voice spoke in your head. “Are you finished?”

“Almost, Rhys, no problems. I’ll let you know when I’m leaving, alright?”

“Okay, be safe, love you”

“Love you too,” you managed to reply before the conversation was cut. You adored your older brother, but a bit more faith in your abilities as a diplomatic emissary would be appreciated. 

You swiftly exited the house, smiling at passing servants that bowed to you as they passed. As far as they knew, you were preparing to leave, to go back to the Night Court. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself winnow to where you wanted to be more than anything.

The woods of the Autumn Court were breathtaking, a palette of colours filling your senses. Here, in the safety of the trees, you finally focused on the heavy weight on your chest, allowing it to melt away. Before you could take a deep breath, another voice filled your mind.

“My love?”

“I’m here, Darling.”

Strong arms encircled your waist in response, pulling you close. “I missed you.”

Turning in his arms, you looked up into the beautiful amber eyes of Eris Vanserra.

Your mate.

His red hair shone in the sunlight being filtered through the foliage above you, his eyes full of warmth as he looked at you, so different to how he usually was around people. 

“I missed you too… it’s getting so difficult to keep the glamour on at all times… it’s beginning to hurt.”

Eris looked at you in concern. “I know, my love, I’m sorry. The bond isn’t supposed to be hidden like this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Eris.” Reaching up to stroke his cheek, relishing in the feeling of the bond pulse between you both, waves of love pumping through. “I don’t have much time, Rhys will get worried.”

“I know… are you attending Helion’s ball for the courts?”

You nod, resting your head against his strong chest. “Looking forward to it, actually. Will you?”

“In my father’s place, he has no love for social gatherings. Perhaps… we could spend some time together.”

“We will, no matter what, I promise.”

“I love you.”

The words that ring in your mind morning, noon and night. That come with nothing but sincerity.

“I love you too, Eris.” 

Reluctantly, so reluctantly, you remove yourself from his hold. “Kiss me?”

His lips on yours was his response, as you both tried to mask the pain of having to keep your relationship a secret. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Eris,” was all you could muster, before winnowing away, ensuring the weight on your chest had returned before going back to your family.

Appearing in the main hallway, a voice came from your left.

“Y/N? You didn’t tell me you were leaving.” 

“Shit, sorry Rhys. I forgot, I was just eager to leave.”

“It all went well?”

“Of course, brother, some faith would be nice.”

“I just worry about you, sister, the Autumn Court is dangerous.”

“I can handle myself, Rhys.”

“Alright, come, there is food left… if Cassian hasn’t finished it all.” Laughing, you follow Rhysand to the dining room, where Cassian, Azriel, and Feyre sit around. These are your family, you love them, and yet all you really want is for Eris to be part of it, to be accepted as your mate.

As always, his voice rings in your ears. “I love you.”

By the Cauldron, you fucking love him too.

. . . 

With your arm in Cassian’s, you follow Rhysand and Feyre into the Day Court’s gorgeous ballroom. Helion himself greets you at the door, kissing both of your cheeks.

“Y/N, don’t you look ravishing.”

Indeed you did, in a sleek silk dress, a deep forest green, with the jewellery to match. You truly felt confident and beautiful, and most of all, powerful. Only you would know who exactly you were trying to impress.

You felt his eyes follow you across the room, even without the bond. Eris and a few of his brothers stood against the far wall, surveying the room. Eris held a drink to his lips, his eyes on you over the rim of the glass. His gaze was piercing, making your skin feel warm in the best way. His eyes landed on your arm in Cassian’s, eyebrows furrowing in such a slight way that only his mate could notice.

“I’m going to get a drink, I’ll be back.” Unlinking your arm from Cassian’s, he hardly notices as he laughs at something Helion says. Azriel watches you go, but says nothing, unsuspecting. As you intended.

Getting a glass of wine, you let your eyes flicker to Eris, now standing by himself, as many other guests try to avoid him. It sends a surge of annoyance and anger through you. How dare they ignore your mate so easily, he is nothing like his father, as you would learn after nights and nights of whispered promises and tearful secrets, secret meetings whenever you could get away from the Night Court.

Taking a slow sip from the glass, your eyes roam over the room. Various faces you recognised stood out to you, conversing and laughing among themselves. It was your own family that caught your attention. Cassian was by Rhysand’s ear, whispering something that made them both laugh subtly. Then you noticed how their eyes kept straying over to where Eris was standing, still alone. They were laughing at him. Laughing at your mate. A flash of anger surged towards you, pushing you forward.

“What is so funny, brother?”

“”I don’t understand why he would even come, surely he knew he would not be accepted”

“Who?” You asked, feigning ignorance to see what his reply would be.

“Eris. It’s not like Beron is liked, I don’t understand why Eris is here.”

“He isn’t his father, surely the peace treaties have proved that to you.” Unwillingly, the bond opened a little bit, not enough to be noticeable, but enough to feel your mate. Enough for him to feel your anger. Gentle streams of serenity flowed through the bond, slightly settling your nerves.

“We don’t truly know him, Y/N, or like him..” Cassian remarked.

Your fingers tightened around your glass, a sign of how fuming you were. It took an extreme level of self control to bite back the words you wished to say. How dare they make such cruel assumptions about him.How dare they mock your mate, just as much of a loved one as Feyre was to Rhys. Instead, you swallowed them. “Excuse me for a moment,I just need some air.”

You excused yourself quickly, avoiding the slightly questioning looks from your family, walking as swiftly as your dress would allow down the nearest corridor, out of sight from prying eyes. You kept walking, until you found an empty room, presumably a guest room. You sat on the chaise, taking deep breaths, running your hand over your face lightly. 

The door gently opened and closed behind you. “My love?”

“Eris! You shouldn’t be here…” you said, although your actions contradict your words as you wrapped your arms around his chest, holding him close.

“My mate is upset, of course I’m here. What happened?”

“Just my family’s hypocrisy. I love them, I just wish they’d open their eyes. They… were unkind about you.”

“That explains why the glamour faded a bit.. It doesn’t bother me, my love.”

“It bothers me, you’re my mate, you should be as accepted as Feyre is.”

Eris gently kissed your forehead, before tilting up your chin, looking into your eyes.

“Thank you for protecting me,” he whispered, before leaning in and kissing you, holding you close.

“What is going on here?”

Your brother’s voice rang through the room as you and Eris jumped apart, him instinctively pushing you behind him.

“Rhys, I can explain,” you began.

“What did he do to you?” He was fuming, as the rest of the Inner Circle realised what was going on. “What have you done to her?”

“He’s done nothing, Rhysand! Calm down!” This wasn’t your High Lord speaking, this was your brother and you were not going to let him talk to your mate like that. “Eris is my mate, and you will listen to us.” The bond opened, an unmistakable scent that none of the Illyrians could ignore.

“He cannot be your mate, Y/N! I won’t allow it.” Rhysand said, and Feyre visibly flinched, the only one of your family that didn’t look disgusted.

“Won’t allow it?” You said carefully, enunciating each word. His words were the wrong ones to say to a mated female.

“You don’t need to allow anything, my lord. Can’t you feel the bond we have? Do you not realise that I would leave you all to be with him. Like you would for Feyre.”

Your brother flinched at his title being used so bitingly, and at your declaration. “We can’t trust him, what if he’s like his father?”

Behind you, a pang of pain struck down the bond from Eris, staying silent as he knew he could be of no help in this argument.

“Don’t you dare compare him to Beron! You are such a hypocrite, Rhysand, think about our own father. I will not allow you to disrespect my mate, not now, not ever.”

Before Rhysand or any of the Inner Circle could interrupt, Feyre walked forward, taking your hand, your shoulders heaving with anger. “Eris is welcome in the Night Court, as your mate and as one of us.”

“Fey-”

“I am High Lady, my word is law. Y/N, you are my sister, and I can tell that what you have is genuine. It is settled. Come, Rhys, Helion will wonder where we are.”

They looked like they wanted to argue, but a few harsh snarls from you silenced them. Your family slowly left, and you all but fell into Eris’ chest again.

“You were brilliant, my love, truly.”

“They’ll come around, thank the Cauldron for Feyre.”

“I can love you in public now, whenever I want. No more concealing the bond.”

“Never again. You’re my mate, Eris, any obstacles that come we’ll face together.” Pressing your forehead against his, you allowed yourself to relish in the euphoric feeling of the mating bond.

Your Eris. Your mate. 

#eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses x reader #a court of thorns and roses #my writing #mate!reader #the inner circle

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

GIF: Originally posted by @teenwolf-theoriginals

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dubious/non consent. Groping. Language. Kissing. Nudity. First time. AFAB receiving oral/manual sex. Fingering. Mentions of overstimulation.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Hello there my lovelies! I come bearing a new chapter and this time it is pure smut. It's probably the darkest, filthiest thing I have ever written so brace yourselves. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. In other news, I watched All of Us Strangers on Friday and it broke me in half. Hope you are all doing well. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

---------------------------------------------

The first thing that registers upon returning to your physical body is the touch of Morpheus' hands and mouth.

Warmth blooms at every point of contact and counteracts the biting winter weather.

Both hands have gone under the hem of your shirt to explore the skin of your back. The top three buttons have been undone to give access to your throat. Morpheus nuzzles there, pressing possessive kisses to the sensitive skin.

Navigating through the lingering brain fog, you realise that this was the source of the ghostly grazes you had felt during your meeting with the Fates.

Even when your mind was disembodied from your physical form, he was still able to affect you.

The connection between your souls is strong.

His sense of curiosity is strong too as he creeps a hand round and upwards to cup the flesh of your left breast. Your mind fully snaps back into your body and you make a squeaking noise, overcome with the intimacy.

He removes the exploring hand and pulls back from the crook of your neck, speaking your name eagerly.

Gentle fingertips stroke from your temple to your jaw bone. The world undulates when you try to open your eyes, and you sway on the spot.

He takes the weight of your body until your strength returns. Your eyelids flutter as you try to blink away the excess moisture that has accumulated there.

"That's it, come back to me," he murmurs.

You see the ocean blue of his eyes first, and then pan out to take in his whole face. Once again, you are wonderstruck by his exquisite beauty. Have you ever seen a bone structure combination as exemplary? No. Absolutely not. No one ever has.

The angles are balanced perfectly with his pouty lips, all pink and swollen from use; the sight of them urge you to replicate the same activity with each passing second.

There is no chance allowed for Morpheus disrupts your objectification. "Did you gain some clarity on the situation?"

You pull your coat closer to protect your décolleté from the weather, and take time to thoroughly contemplate his inquiry. There was much to unpack and while you had no inclination to do so standing out in the winter-washed street, you believe that for now Morpheus at least deserves an abridged version.

"Yes. And no. I may have more questions than before I spoke to them..."

"I see." He swallows visibly, hinting at trepidation. "You need not tell me of the specifics of which you conversed. All I need to know is that they have not changed their minds. That you are still mine."

You are smiling reassuringly before he has even finished the sentence. Your intuition tells you it was agony for him the entire time you were gone and you cannot leave him in lingering in that state any longer.

"I am yours," you say ardently as a blissful, expanding feeling blossoms in your chest. "My soulmate."

You brush your knuckles over his cheekbone and cup his face with the gentlest of touches. "My Morpheus."

Saying his name in front of him for the first time has a considerable affect on him. His pupils dilate, lending him a feline air and he groans lowly and quietly in the back of his throat. Hips then roll forwards to give further evidence to his arousal.

You reflect this lustfulness by putting both hands on the back of his neck to pull his face down to yours. He goes willingly, of course, laying claim to your lips like he is an addict and you his vice.

The previous kisses you had shared had been led by Morpheus. You had participated with enthusiasm but he was clearly the one conducting the order of events. Now it was a duet.

Your confidence is shown in your touches. The placement of your hands on his nape and the small of his back, gripping tightly to maintain his closeness. Peppering in open-mouthed kisses in an attempt to get him to open his mouth in return. You want to taste inside him with your own tongue.

He lets you.

You both moan as you trace the inside of his upper lip with your tongue. The taste is just like before; a heady and delicious mixture that blinkers and exposes you in equal parts. You open your mouth further, intending to go deeper when he suddenly delves into your mouth too.

You kiss and kiss and kiss, all the while becoming aware of a trembling heat just above your sternum that carves a path straight and true down to your core.

The hands that were at your sides disappear and the wind begins to pick up. There are gritty specks hitting your bare skin, but you are too overcome with pleasure to wonder why. Morpheus takes hold of your hands and squeezes tightly.

Your head begins to swirl. Is it due to a lack of oxygen? You breathe in through your nose. The adrift feeling persists. The grip Morpheus has on your hands is causing them to go numb.

There's a pressure in your ears similar to that created by the ascent of an aircraft. You feel it straining against your eardrums and spreading across your sinuses. All sound then disappears, as does the floor beneath your feet. Your heartbeat thuds frantically in the back of your throat, pulsating with red flashes behind your closed eyelids. You don't stop kissing him though. He is the only thing that has sense and stability in the disorientation.

The spinning ceases and the pressure fades as your feet find solid ground again. The chill factor has reduced to an ambient temperature. Morpheus extricates himself from your mouth slowly and unwillingly.

There's a sleepy dust-like substance in your eyelashes; you dislodge and wipe it away and open your eyes.

Your location has changed.

The puddle strewn pavements are now white marble. The stinging light emanating from the lamp post replaced by a peaceful mixture of moonlight and starlight through vast windows.

It is extremely familiar. You are trying to figure out why when your focus falls on the statues.

The niggling thought that you put on the back burner is suddenly set free from its cage.

The King of Dreams and Nightmares. That was what the Fates had called him.

You had visited this gallery as you slept and touched yourself in front of a ethereal man.

You vocalise the end of your train of thought as mortification clenches in your gut.

"You were in my dream last night."

"Yes." There's a tiny movement of his lips that suggests pride at your comprehension. "I've been in your dreams for many nights now."

"In the crowds, and that room?"

"Yes."

It all made sense now. It was him you had been waiting for in the blank room and after then, he was the one you had been able to feel watching you from afar. That was why he seemed so familiar. He'd been with you for weeks.

"I can't believe I did that in front of you."

The predatory gaze is back as he surveys your flustered form.

"Hmm," he purrs, "You were quite the spectacle."

"Did you make me do it?"

"I set up the parameters of the dream. Your actions within it were your own."

"I don't remember choosing," you comment in a small voice.

You feel his hands about your waist. "Perhaps you were guided by instinct, rather than conscious thought."

It sounds very plausible for instinct had undoubtably been in the driver's seat since he touched you for the first time.

You decide to change the subject from your exhibitionism. "So this is your realm?"

"We are at the heart of it, within the palace. Few are able to come here when they sleep. Even fewer are permitted to see it with a cognisant mind."

You look down as a bashful blush stains your cheeks. It is truly moving that he let you into his inner most sanctum, even before he had divulged your connection.

A strong thumb and forefinger find purchase on your chin and tilt your head up so he can assess your countenance. "What are you thinking of?"

"I'm just... all of this. What's happened tonight, it's beyond anything I could -"

"Dream?" He offers with a quirked eyebrow.

You laugh. "I was going to say imagine, but dream works just as well."

He brings you in for another passionate kiss, one that goes from lips to earlobe to neck, designed to make your head loll back and knees go weak, and you do both with a sigh.

"I would like to take you to my chambers now," he whispers against your pulse point.

That delicious vibration in your sternum shifts up a gear and you let loose a faint groan in lieu of a reply.

He speaks your name.

The inflection of his voice as he says it is so beguiling that you would probably do anything he suggested.

You are nodding, hazily repeating the word yes a few times even though Morpheus hasn't technically asked you a question.

The pressure you felt before in your ears returns for the briefest of moments and in the time it takes for you to blink, your surroundings have changed once more.

The first thing you notice is the bed, the lone piece of furniture in the room. The frame is an ornately carved pale stone, it twists and turns with gorgeous fluidity. The silk sheets upon it are a stark contrast; black with an iridescent quality that looks like the wings of a corvid. Its presence carries a raft of expectations with it and sets forth a barrage of nervous energy. You ignore the bed for now and look to your soulmate who has moved a few steps away from you.

He looks correct here, you note with intrigue. It's not as if he was out of place outside the function hall, for he has a humanoid form, but the grandeur of this private place is casting him in a different light. Here, with the omniscient gaze, assured tilt of his chin, graceful poise; he looks like the King he is.

And through a funny quirk of fate, he is all yours.

Your chest begins to ache, you raise a hand to it and frown in confusion. It's like your soul is pining, calling out for help.

Morpheus is by your side in an instant.

"I need to touch your bare skin again."

You waste no time in permitting this, shrugging out of your coat and letting it fall onto the black marble floor. Next to be shed are your heeled boots and socks. The height difference between you is lengthened by a couple of inches as you relax the tendons in your feet. You're left in your underwear after you take off your button-up blouse and trousers.

Morpheus' lips part as he observes your body. His eyes dart up and down and you can see the hunger within the darkening irises. His long fingers skim liberally and indiscriminately across your skin, diligently taking away the pain and cataloguing the sensitivity of your body at the same time.

The fingers of his right hand then twitch and his all-black ensemble dissolves into nothing, leaving him completely naked.

Your flush must be fuchsia as you notice his size, and twitches that traverse the length. You look to your own pile of clothes that took you several minutes to remove, hoping that a change of focus will steady your stomach's ever burgeoning butterflies. "That was efficient."

"Once you are dressing in garments created in the Dreaming, I will be able to disrobe you just the same."

You're not entirely sure how you feel about that. It's risky yet also kind of sexy.

"As long as you don't ever do it in front of people by accident," you assert playfully.

"You need not worry, I would never do such a thing to taint your honour."

You nod and close the gap between you.

To say you are astounded by his nude form would be an understatement. Whispers of sinew cord through slender limbs and across his torso, and for each angular peak proffered by bone there is a counteracting swathe of soft, flawless skin that covers it.

You yearn to touch him.

Morpheus' stares are intense as you place your palm over his heart. He hums out a sound of pleasure at the warmth this new skin-on-skin contact has created.

He draws you closer and suddenly lifts you off the ground, knocking the breath out of your lungs. You feel safe in the strength he possesses yet you cling to him with all four limbs regardless, pressing against his bare chest. Having so much of his skin against yours is creating a heat that is close to burning in the most wonderful way.

He lays you onto the bed and watches you with unwavering focus.

"Are you going to perform for me again, or would you like me to take control?"

The notion of that kind of pleasure being administered by him causes your reply to be breathless, "Touch me again, please."

The mattress dips slowly as he gracefully joins you on the bed, straddling himself on top of you.

He starts with your face, caressing you with adoration. Next, pressing kisses to your neck and shoulders before reaching down your body. One hand fondles your breasts while the other cups between your legs. You sigh, relishing in the warmth and how slowly he is taking things.

Deft fingers then dip below the waistband of your underwear.

You jolt and moan, simultaneously thrilled and taken off guard.

"Good," he says with dark delight. "You respond well to me."

He teases at your entrance and you are all at once very overwhelmed.

"I look forward to seeing how you react when I push inside you."

It truly does sound like something you want him to do - you've longed for a physical relationship for years however there's a detail that you know your soulmate should be privy to before you try. How it will be received, you cannot begin to guess, but you need to be upfront.

"I've never been with anyone in that way," your words sounding even more vulnerable than you feel.

Morpheus stops his attentions immediately and for a handful of heartbeats, you are admonishing yourself for the bluntness of your admission.

He moves back up your body and his eyes find yours. His expression is gentle and devoid of judgement, the following sentence backing up what your optic nerves are perceiving.

"Then I will teach you."

He presses a single chaste kiss to your lips; an act that seals his promise. Your apprehension melts away. You run your hands through his hair as you bask in the sweetness of the moment. The Fates were right: Morpheus really is perfect for you.

"I am going to worship you now."

He's ridding you of your bra and underwear immediately after you consent. The second he sees you fully bared, his eyes turn black.

You wonder what you've just agreed to.

He kneels on the floor at the foot of the bed, grabs your ankles and pulls you towards him until your legs hang off the edge.

You've seen depictions of oral sex in media however you have always reasoned that they are likely to be unrealistic; fantasies created in controlled environments and you would be naïve to hope that it could be like that for you, when it happened. Until now. Morpheus is the expert in dreams after all. Maybe you are allowed to get your hopes up.

His lips tease your inner thighs as he settles himself closer and closer to your throbbing, wet core until you feel the tickling of his breath.

He observes for a moment, part your folds with a single finger, grasps your hips and then goes down on you like you are an enticing, delectable treat that must be devoured.

Your lips falls open as his own closes around your clit. The heat that is brought from this touch is an inferno. You moan, and look at him, at this otherworldly being smothering you so adeptly, and how his intense eyes dance with pleasure of their own. He is enjoying this. It makes you gush.

Morpheus, taking advantage of this, very quickly collects the slick on both his index fingers and reaches up to lubricate your hardened nipples with it.

You groan from this additional stimulation and throw your head back with abandon, getting a good view of the vaulted ceiling above you and the seemingly literal constellations that float glimmering and glowing in the rafters.

Soon you are writhing on the cool silk of the sheets and he is forced to resume holding your hips to keep you still.

He then switches to a two-fronted approach. Two fingers sink into your cunt, the thumb of the same hand curling up to press on your clit. It's quite the step - letting another person inside your most intimate place and his reverent groans at feeling your tightness envelop his digits shows that he acknowledges this too. All it takes is a few deep, well angled pumps and then you are granted a mind-shattering orgasm.

His hand presses into the softness of your lower abdomen and the ecstasy becomes ten fold. You repeatedly moan his name as vibrant colours explode behind your eyelids, like the green and purple phosphenes that form if you rub your eyes too hard.

"Was that to your satisfaction?" He asks once your body has gone limp.

You look at Morpheus through the pulsing haze of aftershocks; his cheek resting against your inner thigh as his skin gleams with the same divinely beautiful quality as the stars above you.

"It was more than that," you declare emotionally.

What he's just given you is beyond your highest hopes of what intimacy could be. You had let another person see you at your most vulnerable, and reaped the rewards of that trust. Now, you must show your devotion to him.

"Your turn."

He stands and shakes his head. "No."

You are crestfallen but catch on when he begins to spread pre-cum over the length of his erection.

"Oh, um, Morpheus, I'm sorry. I don't think I can take you right now."

The notion of any kind of touching so soon after climaxing would be the guarantor of pain.

He ignores you, his movements calculated as he adjusts your position; arranging you in the centre of the mattress and splaying your trembling legs.

"Morpheus. I appreciate that I'm inexperienced but I know my body. I can't -"

His tone is dangerous as he interrupts you, "You are my soulmate. You have been made for me and as such, you will be able to take me."

You sit up. "I want to do things for you too."

He climbs on top of you, takes your wrists in his long-fingered hands and leverages you back towards horizontal.

You still don't concede. "Morpheus, tell me what you want."

His voice rumbles with authority, "I want to fuck you without delay. Pour myself into you. Possess you. Merge with you and have us become one."

He ups the persuasive tactics, leaning in close so all you can see are dark eyelashes framing even darker eyes. The heat under your skin is stifling.

"This is the final stage in your awakening. Don't you want to know what will happen when it's done? Allow me to guide you there. Be your first and only, make you feel exquisite with my touch."

He places a palm onto your chest and smiles a twisted smile when a luscious shuddering in that spot above your sternum makes you whimper and squirm.

"Submit to fate," he whispers. "Let me tie our souls together."

He is so eloquent and compelling and he delivers the killer blow as he lines his thick, long cock up at your entrance.

"Will you surrender yourself to me, Y/N?"

-------------------------------------

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

"In the middle of the night in my dreams, you should see the things we do. In the middle of the night in my dreams, I know I'm going to be with you so I take my time. Are you ready for it?"

#the sandman #sandman #the sandman netflix #the sandman 2022 #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus/dream #morpheus/dream x reader #lord morpheus #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream #dream x reader #dream smut #sandman smut #dark morpheus #dark!morpheus #the endless #the dreaming #soulmates #the sandman fic #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman imagine #fanfic #angst #tom sturridge #saskia writes sandman #spotify #Spotify

[filthforfriends]

By the way, there is an actual reason for the visceral rage you feel at the thought of cishet men perceiving Victoria.

The majority of Måneskin’s fanbase is queer & questioning young women. At live shows, that only becomes truer the closer you get to the barricade (& from the barricade, they pick people to go on stage). Vic herself is a proud queer woman. So when she’s expressing her sexuality on stage, it is for the female gaze.

The way she engages seems special because it is. We never see women being openly sexy & jubilant & authentic because of the patriarchy’s omnipresent coercion. Vic’s sexuality on stage isn’t a performance for men & we can see how much joy she gets from that freedom, especially during the finale. While the boys are simply trying to survive the stage invasion, our girl Vic is beyond thrilled to lay in a pile of other sweaty, nearly topless chicks. With a giant smile on her face she calls some dude a “fucking pig” for thinking she’s hot while everyone else screams that she prefers pussy.

Typically, WLW being sexy for other WLW quite literally involves a middle man packaging (writing, directing, editing) that content (through the male gaze). But there is nothing between Vic & the live audience. What Måneskin’s videographers capture will always be made for the female gaze, no matter how it’s curated. We don’t realize how the patriarchy taints our experiences with other women/fems until something like this captures our focus. Then it’s a struggle to pin down precisely what about it is so compelling.

Cishet men grow up in a world where everything is designed for their appreciation, to win their attention. We don’t want them to perceive Vic because they’ll treat her sexuality like performance for their consumption. If they find her fuckable, it’s because she wanted them to. If they notice her smile, it’s because she was thrilled at the prospect of this objectification. They add helpful criticisms about her appearance & behavior so she – or more accurately, it – can be better desirable. Because why wouldn’t it want to modify itself for them? It was flirting. Fucking tease.

The male gaze makes no differentiation between the real, autonomous person & the fantasy in their heads, because Vic was never really a person to begin with. As in, she never reached the status of an entity entitled to give & withdraw consent. So why should they treat the autonomous person Victoria any different than the naked girl on its knees in their mind? Both are just objects.

The difference is that we’re attracted to Victoria as she is, as she voluntarily chooses to present herself. Decidedly unladylike, (why should she be otherwise?) bouncing & gyrating open mouthed, suggesting voyeurism. We’d never want Victoria to make herself less for us – less body, less vulgar. She retains her personhood.

So no, you’re not crazy.

#maneskin #måneskin #må #maneskin victoria #vicdeangelis #Victoria de angelis #vic de angelis #måneskin victoria #victoria maneskin #victoria måneskin #fuck the patriarchy #female gaze