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fayeriess · 7 months

Text

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ ON A PILLOW OF

GRASS AND DANDELIONS ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

astarion ancunin x fem!reader

summary: you and astarion take much-needed time to yourselves in a field kissed by the sun. blueberries are the fruit of the occassion, as messy and sticky as they were. sometimes though, messy is a good thing.

warnings: 18+, smut, oral, ejaculation, deep-throating (??), a bit of nipple play if you squint hard enough, astarion's very vocal ( i don't make the rules ), astarion licks fruit juice off reader's chest, slight worshipping, not proof-read

a/n: wrote this at two am with a foggy mind and rusty smut skills. but alas, here's a small gift of an idea that refused to leave me. now, i can rest easily, bless.

The sun - a ball of fire in the abyss of the sky - is the brightest star. It burns the surface of your skin in vibrant rays of light, warming you from the inside; and setting you aflame. It wasn’t a foreign feeling, just one you learned to appreciate in the years you’ve been on this plane, a hug without drastic intentions, a heated embrace. Aside from the fruit in your hand; cobalt in color, soft-skinned, ripe, and dripping sour juices. It pools on the surface of your tongue alongside sugary essence once the sharp ridges of teeth puncture through; mixing in with warm spit, tricking down the chin and onto the expanse of your chest, loose, low-cut blouse leaving little to the imagination.

The feeling you get from it is almost erotic, you think, as your lover laps at stray sweetness making its way to the base of your neck, right under the spot he adored so very much. The wet muscle of his tongue skims across your collarbone, his long, cold fingers hovering above your hip, the other keeping himself steady, hand sinking into the softness of the sheet below. His touches give off a certain urgency although his actions show otherwise. Astarion wants to take his time with you; albeit having seemingly all the time in existence to do so.

A sigh escapes your lips involuntarily, airy as the hairs on your arms raise every millisecond that his body inches closer to yours, craving skin-to-skin through the thin layers of fabric. It causes you to straighten your spine, almost as if you were a stick wedged in damp soil, letting it mold further into you, keeping your soul in place. Every single bone within you was practically screaming. They didn’t mind being constricted like this, a small jumble of voices bouncing back and forth.

It made you chuckle, a sound that had him humming against your skin in curiosity. “What’s so funny, my love?”

Smiling, you lock your irises onto a cluster of stray curls above you, hand moving to twist around them - an action that makes him visibly shiver.

“I’m supposed to be feeding you.”

With a raise of his head, you could see just how big his pupils had dilated, ruby eyes just a shade or two darker than usual. His low-lidded gaze traveled down toward the valley of your chest, a purple tint left in streaks adorning your collarbone; evidence of his affection. “Are you not already?”

You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth as you shuffle about next to him on your side, propping your chin on the palm of your hand, elbow digging into the ground beneath the white linen of the sheet. “No, you’re far too busy being a tease.”

At your words, he chuckled, face dropping to the left side of your neck with such swiftness that you raised your hips further into his at the feeling of plump lips on your pulse point. Although you couldn’t see him anymore, the way his fingers squeezed at your clothed hip told you everything you needed to know.

“If you wanted me to bite you, all you had to do was ask.”

A breathy sigh left your lips, nails moving from his silver curls down to his back, his tunic wrinkling under your touch, preventing him from escaping. Hot white heat pooled in your lower stomach; a longing to have him touch you in your most intimate of places - desperately. Desire envelops you whole, just like the sparkle of the sun.

“Please Astarion….”

Shivering at the coolness of his lips against your neck, your face grew hot in sudden embarrassment. The organ that was your heart hammered erratically in your sternum as he sucked on your flesh, setting your skin ablaze in a way where it was somewhat painful… a delectable pinch as his fangs pierced the skin.

Astarion was no stranger to drinking your lifeblood, and the act itself wasn’t a rare occurrence. He enjoyed it - no, he craved it as if it were the finest, most expensive brand of wine he had ever tasted in all his years. It satiated his thirst.

His cheeks hallowed as he sucked once - twice more before pulling away, thumbing at the corner of his lip before parting his lips, tucking his bloody thumb into the heat of his mouth. “Delicious…”

Astarion was sure that his body had started to relax as your blood flowed through his veins, sloshing around in the confines of his belly as if he were a drunkard.

The ridges of your front teeth sunk into the pillowed flesh of your bottom lip, and you watched cautiously as he toyed with the edges of his tunic, lifting it to his naval. Slight hesitation embedded itself in his hands before he flexed them a bit, ridding himself of the fabric completely. Despite having been bare in front of you countless times - even if not fully on display, he found himself growing somewhat small under your fixated look, opting to stand and plop himself in a bed of grass a couple of feet away.

He extended his arms outward, blades of deep green tickling his knuckles, creating an itch that he refused to scratch. Filling his mouth with fresh air, his chest rose before deflating, the hairs in his nose burning. “Sometimes, I forget how to breathe.”

Lashes fan against his skin as he closes his eyes, his undead lungs trying to find a comfortable rhythm, steady. You can’t help but admire him from your place, eyebrows unfurrowing from their constant state of distress.

The light had moved in his direction, clouds changing their position to make way as it shone down on his figure, drawn to him like magnets to metal. It casts shadows on his face, carving out every gentle dip of his abs, the flexing of his biceps as he raises a hand in front of his face, blocking his vision from the viciousness of it all. Instead of irritation filling his undead heart, it was a foreign sense of calamity. A feeling that he held dear for as long as it lingered.

“This feels nice.”

His ears perk at the sound of your feet crunching grass, alongside the periodic chirping of birds perched on enormous tree branches above. A gust of wind weaved through tendrils of curls, seeping into his scalp, metaphorically dousing him in cold water. For a second, he indulged in the thought of bathing in a nearby lake wherever camp was set up for the night, taking his time to let it take over every inch of his body.

A clench of his stomach muscles sends his eyes shooting open, neck craning to stare down at your hand traveling down the ‘v’ of his naval, tracing patterns on the way. Your unexpected compliment was nothing but a whisper in the wind that made the tips of his ears grow as red as his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” Leaning down between his wide legs, your sticky lips graced his icy skin, sending a jolt of heat through him, a gasp caught in his throat as you painstakingly peppered his abdomen in an abundance of kisses.

Astarion was by no means ashamed when it came to eliciting pretty noises in response to your touch; need apparent in the way his head fell back, cushioned by grass and a halo of dandelions, his adams apple bobbing as your fingers hooked in the waistband of his pants.

“Let me worship you Astarion. You deserve to be tasted.”

He propped himself on an elbow, staring down at you with an expression that could only be described as that of some sort of challenge at your request, his unoccupied hand stretching out to grip your chin loosely in his hands, fingers tapping on the fullness of your cheeks. “Needy little thing.”

The low tone of his voice caused you to rub your thighs together, trying to soothe the developing ache between them, a feeling you knew wouldn’t go away unless he helped you - until he conjured every single facet of his love and adoration for you to the tips of his fingers. “Who am I to refuse my love’s desires?”

Loosening his grip on your face, he allowed you to tug at the fabric of his pants, lifting his hips slightly as you shed them off of him completely, fingers dancing up his thighs, eyes greedily taking in his cock that lay hard before you, slightly curved and sensitive. His tip glistened with wetness that formed a waterfall of saliva in your mouth to coat him with.

It practically begged for attention, some sort of relief that you were more than willing to give by darting out your tongue, bobbing your head down his length, and taking him down your throat as far as you could.

Through spit-covered teeth, Astarion hissed lightly as you palmed him gently, the extra layers of skin doing little to help him catch his breath. It stretched at every tug of your hand, at every bob of your head as you took him further in your mouth, cheeks hollow and mouth wet, shining under mustard yellow hues from the surrounding landscape of the hidden field.

He was fucking perfect lying beneath you like this, devoid of any sharp remarks, and scandalous comments - just a blubbering mess. A man formed by all things precious, and a subtle sort of stunning.

“Gods, just like that, pet.” He bucked his hips upward, hitting the back of your throat so violently that you gagged, an encouraging hum causing his cock to throb in the expanse of your warm mouth.

He could stay here forever, your lips closed around him, cheeks stained with tears, fingers from your other hand tracing figure eights on his pubic bone to occupy yourself further with pleasing him. Even with a brain filled with endless fog, the pale elf couldn’t recount the last time you had sucked him as if your entire existence depended solely on his pleasure.

Hell, he wasn’t complaining at all. The noises escaping his esophagus were more than enough proof, and you were more than happy to make it known.

You swirled your tongue around his tip, gathering the taste of him, pubic hairs tickling your nostrils as the tip of your nose made contact with the base of his shaft. His lower stomach couldn’t help but clench tightly, only contracting when your lips widened, jaw slacking as you quickened your pace.

White heat coiled in his stomach, a sensation so euphoric to him that his back arched slightly, brows furrowing, a chorus of broken, muffled cries leaving his parted lips. He released his seed, spurting his arousal down your throat, something you swallowed without hesitation as you pulled away from him.

Finding the strength to open his eyes, Astarion narrowed them at the white puff of clouds painting the sky above through vibrant leaves, a tingle vibrating throughout his body as you straddled his hips, rocking against him gently as he peaked at you. “Isn’t there something else you crave?”

The flesh of your mouth meets his pointed ear and his spine grows rigid, then he shudders in anticipation, in desire. His hands are under your blouse before you can utter anything else, following the dip of your lower back as you press yourself against him.

“I want to be inside of you.”

There it was.

The seven words you’ve been wanting to hear ever since he took your hand and whisked you away into the horizon, a basket full of berries that currently sat discarded somewhere around the crumpled blanket, rotting away in the heat.

“I’d rip this off of you if you’d let me.” He whispered, thumbing at your shirt, hair tousled and out of its usual format of precise placement.

He looked like heaven. He tasted like heaven. He felt like heaven.

It was a mantra that you repeated in your head as he discarded the shirt that covered the swell of your breasts, nipples perking when he pinched them between his fingers, taking one of them in his mouth almost immediately after as if he were still famished.

Fidgeting with the ends of your long skirt, you bunched the fabric up your thighs, fingers disappearing under the material to move your soaked underwear to the side, throbbing with need. “You know I would if the circumstances were different.”

Ah, yes, the fact that you two were fucking like rabbits out in the open. A thrill that never ceased to make your heart beat quickly no matter how many times you both found yourselves in this position.

“Yet you’re letting me take you in broad daylight.”

It was hard not to smile at that.

After all, he did have a point.

tags: @tallymonster, @astariongf, @scandalcus

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #astarion x you #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion smut #astarion x tav

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inklore · 1 year

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for the adam warlock thots:

i cannot see this sweet himbo as anything but a soft dom and i will FIGHT someone on that

@tom-whore-dleston and i are right behind you screaming in agreement bestie, because yes yes!! this man is the type of softdom that aims to please, to give his girl the most earth shattering orgasm and then ANOTHER!

warnings: eighteen+ content, face riding, over stimulation, adam being a bit subby, written on my phone so hella quick and dirty and full of mistakes probably.

When you’re not rocking against his tongue the way he wants—your clit brushing against his nose allowing his tongue to push inside your heat just enough to have your breath catching in the back of your throat—his fingers dig into the muscle of your butt cheeks guiding your hips to move.

To fuck his face the way he had asked you to when he had pulled you into bed with him. With his mouth at your breast bone leaving marks, his hardness rutting up against you.

The sweet look in his eyes, the way he had mumbled it into your skin, followed by his fingers moving down your side and between your thighs. Hooking a finger in the crotch of your shorts to run two fingers through your pussy.

“You’re so wet. Please,” he groaned.

His eyes begging, his lips moving in a plea.

Denying him would be torture.

And when he brings you to that edge, that burning pleasured heat that makes your thighs shake against the side of his head and your fingers thread themselves in his golden hair; a sob rakes through your body when he doesn’t stop after you’ve come down.

His lips wrap around your sensitive clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against the nerve—your fingers digging into his scalp as your body tries to move away from the intensity of his mouth—as he swallows down your juices and looks for more.

“Adam,” your voice is breathless. Your plea holds no ground.

Falls onto deaf ears as his eyes look up to you, his brows bowed in that way that lets you know he wants more of something. More of you. That he’s willing to beg for again—a craving he has yet to relieve.

When he releases your clit you whine. Run your hand along his cheek as his teeth sink into your inner thigh.

“You can give me another,” his tongue runs along the indent of his teeth left in your skin. “And another, and another.” His tongue moves to your pussy again. Pressing a light kiss at your mound before he spreads you and finds your clit again.

The whimpered “please” muffled and vibrated against you—Adam’s arms coming up to wrap around your thighs as your body starts to twitch—enough to have that ache building back up in your body.

#adam warlock smut #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock blurb #adam warlock x you #will poulter smut #adam warlock imagine #adam warlock x y/n #adam warlock fic

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celestial-corner-of-desires · 7 months

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Thinking of Alhaitham....

....saying that he doesn't like eating soup as it can damage his books, yet his favorite meal is eating out your pussy, like it's his last meal. As his tongue slips through every bud and nerve your juicy clit can offer, only for him to indulge his curiosity through his tongue going in and out of your sleek walls.

What should have been a peaceful evening between two overworked lovers who simply wished to rest, turned into an intimate session, with Alhaitham memorizing your pussy as he imprints the image into his mind. You dig your nails into his scalp, pushing him further to make your pussy wetter than it already was.

Fuck! For someone who speaks so little in public, Alhaitham somehow knows how to properly speak with his tongue against your bottom lips.

Grasping for air, you lean your head back, as your thighs wrap around his head, almost suffocating him from any air access. Instead of pushing your clashing thighs, Alhaitham brought both of his hands under each thigh, grasping them and bringing them closer to him. You can feel him massaging them roughly, leaving bruises on the spots he pressed. As you open your eyes slowly you look out from the window to see stars linger in the Sumerian sky.

Seemingly noticing your attention to the stars, Alhaitham speaks raspy, "Are you looking at the stars outside or the reflection of the stars in your eyes when I fuck your pussy with my tongue?"

As you try to grasp your thoughts to answer, you feel the coil form in your bottom, craving for release. Instead, you whine at Alhaitham, biting your lower lip between your teeth, before softly saying, "I-I-i...I can't ho-hold it in any-...longer!~"

As much as he wanted to tease and abuse your cunt, the stress and exhaustion began to ware on his bones. He would let you slide this time.

"You know what to say, princess. Let your words bleed through your tongue that have me addicted to you like a drug. Say what you want me to do to your pussy to make wash me with wetness, so I know what heaven feels like when I die. Or..."

He brings his head up, resting his chin on your cunt as you look down at him.

"Would you prefer if I fucked you to the point of making you scream my name, making me your God, that only worships you?"

Before you could respond to him, he brings his face back to your pussy, pushing his fingers in with his tongue, further stretching your bottom flesh. As if on cue, you let your high crash, spreading cum all over his face. Alhaitham licks out all of your juices, tasting how sweet your cunt can get for him. As you try to regain some consciousness, you bring yourself up by your elbows, as he sits himself up. You let your eyes travel down to his cock, glistering in his tight dark pants, begging for sweet release.

"I pleasured and played with your cunt for you to cum, princess. I think you should return the favor, wouldn't you agree, hm~?"

#celestial corner of desires #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 11 months

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[7:33 pm]

(cw: reader is pregnant, mentions of throwing up, mood swings, “asshole”)

Everyday was getting more and more exhausting the closer you got to your due date. Your feet hurt, your back ached, the cravings drove you crazy, and the mood swings were hard to deal with. Starting the day off earlier than you would have liked certainly didn’t help since you couldn’t get back to sleep with the little limbs moving like it was the middle of the day and not 6 in the morning.

It was like any little thing was close to ending you into a rage. Remembering you had to drink decaf when you were so tired just annoyed you, there was nothing good playing on tv, your leftovers for lunch didn’t heat up well, and no position you sat in eased the aching you felt in your bones which was not helped by constantly getting up to pee. On top of all of this it was just so warm in the apartment, so humid and gross feeling- overall just not a great day.

And poor Haechan, if you were in a better mood you might be able to appreciate him more, but not today. You were annoyed when he strolled into the kitchen with his usually endearing bed head at 10, clearly having been able to comfortably sleep in. The scent of his coffee wafted through the whole house making your mouth water, watching his YouTube and laughing, and he was able to walk around and lift things to finish setting up the nursery. Yesterday you had been happy to receive your usual forehead kiss and watch him work on getting the nursery finished up, but today was not the day. You could feel your anger building up more and more the next thing to annoy you was probably going to send you over the edge.

You were laid on the couch borderline glaring at a commercial when a sweaty smelling Haechan waltzed in and sat at the very end of the couch. He reached for you and pushed your feet slightly to the side to reach over and rub your stomach. Unfortunately, the baby decided to move as much as they could causing an aching pain in your lower back and a sudden shortness of breath. You could feel your throat tighten and your breathing got heavier and faster. You felt a pressure at the back of your eyes right before you started cry.

Haechan’s eyes widened, “My love, what’s wrong?”

You sat up, wiping away the endless stream of tears while you managed to get out, “Why are you touching me? It’s so hot and you made the baby move and now my back hurts even more. I was just getting comfy and you ruined it.”

“I’m so sorry my love,” he replied tentatively, easing himself down from the couch to crouch in front of you.

“You just smell so bad, I want to throw up, and my lunch wasn’t good, and they must hate me because everything on tv is just so bad today. Today is the worst day of my life,” you sobbed. Haechan bit back a laugh which only made you sob harder, “Don’t laugh at me, you did this to me.”

“I know my love, I am so sorry. Look, I’ll close all the windows and turn down the air so it’s nice and cool for you. I’ll order your favorite for dinner, does that sound good?” Haechan asked gently, slightly scared that he might add fuel to the fire.

You shook your head, “I want Thai tonight.”

Haechan smiled, “I’ll order that before I hop in the shower, do you need anything else?”

“Besides your kid out of my body? Can you get me more juice please, with 5 ice cubes only?” You asked sweetly, no longer crying.

“Of course my love, 5 ice cubes got it,” Haechan nodded. He closed all the windows and the blinds before he disappeared out of your sight, you heard the air conditioning kick on and then the ice falling into the glass.

He came back and set the glass of juice on the table beside the couch, turning back in the direction of your bedroom immediately after. You could feel your negative emotions just melt away. A few minutes later Haechan joined you back in the living room on the adjacent couch. You reached for his hand, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“You don’t have to apologize my love, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t think to touch you without your permission,” Haechan replied.

“No, usually it’s ok but the baby has been a real pain in everything today. I woke up early and couldn’t fall back asleep and the baby has been awake and too active all day,” you sighed.

Haechan leaned down to get eye-level with your stomach, “Hey stink, you better stop being a pain.”

Later as you ate your food, happy and finally at complete ease, you looked at Haechan seriously, “I love you, but I’m not getting pregnant again anytime soon.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that because I’m not getting you pregnant anytime soon. I’ve had enough morning sickness and midnight cravings runs to last me a few years. God, and painting that nursery 3 slightly different shades of white was a total pain,” Haechan groaned running a hand down his face.

“Oh, you’ve had enough of all that have you? Imagine experiencing it first hand asshole. You don’t get to complain about those things like I do, you’re not growing your own hyperactive offspring,” you huffed.

Haechan froze, expecting another rage induced breakdown, switching on his soft and understanding voice at the blink of an eye, “You’re so right my love, I’m sorry.”

You rolled your eyes, “that’s what I thought.”

a/n: hello if you’ve read this far do you prefer my writing with or without the read more? I just forgive it might be nicer as someone perusing the tags to not have to scroll a bunch past a single work, thank you!!!

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #haechan x reader #haechan blurbs #haechan timestamps #haechan scenarios

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rippersz · 11 months

Text

𝑨 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒍-𝑻𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕:

̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙

(A Dom!Larissa Weems x Sub!Reader one-shot; NSFW) (BDSM; powerplay; blindfolds; mirror sex; explicit language; body image; petplay; bondage; etc.) - 16 pages of pure smut. Around 7K words.

̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙

“I’m starved, darling.”

Her voice was a mere whisper in your ear, like the snake that tempted Eve. Soft and succulent and utterly delicious. You could feel the sweet of it run down the side of your lip and dribble down your chin; a result of your obedience. As if she was holding the unholy apple above your mouth, coring it and watching with delight as its juice raced over the plane of your lolling tongue. That delighted her as well, watching the way it twitched - utterly uncontrollable. Done by the body’s functions alone. You could envision her smile behind the dark cloth covering your eyes; that smirk, all red lipped and evil while soaking in her control. Knowing she had it was something intoxicating to her - like a drug you slipped into her palm by merely existing. She said sit and you sat. She said put your hands behind your back and you did. She said jump and you asked how high. She said stick out your tongue and out your tongue went. Like a gift.

“Do you know what I’m craving, sweetheart?” The warmth of her breath was something handmade by the gods. It left you shuddering and shaking your head - sparked purely by the innate need to please.

“No? No idea? Not even an inkling?” Her tone was condescending. Wicked. Lilting and full of fake kindness. It had your heart running wild, jumping off of the edge of your ribcage like a swimmer with a diving board. Her eyes, for you could feel their burn, were tracing over every inch of your body; admiring what was hers. What was all hers. The only thing you could do (if you didn’t wish to break her rules) was shake your head again, insisting silently that you didn’t know what she craved but that you wanted to- you really wanted to- please- please she just needed to say-

“Dumb little thing… I’m hungry for you, pet.”

And strong cold hands wrapped around your shoulders, laying long fingers down- one… two… three… four… five… allowing them to clench with strength that hinted at something stronger. Bigger. From an outsider’s perspective, you probably looked like dragon’s prey. With the beast standing over you, weighing judgment for your sins, trapping you within its hold so you couldn’t get away. You made a brief mental note to share that metaphor with Larissa once the scene was done. She would surely enjoy the thought of adding you to her shiny horde. ‘My most precious bit of treasure,’ she’d murmur with warm delight…

Oh it would be such a far cry from the chill that ran through your bones then, biting into your knees as you sat there on the floor. Poised for her. Larissa’s very own Galatea… carved perfectly from soft skin instead of hard stone. Glowing with a light not from Aphrodite but from pleasure; absolutely ravished in the attention of a salacious woman. Of your salacious woman. With her sapphire eyes and carmine lips and sweetened breath and porcelain skin and platinum hair and strong legs and hands and arms… like someone plucked the forbidden fruit from Eve’s garden and morphed the apple into a woman. A woman so unreachable… so untouchable that not even you could move to brush the slightest bit of your fingertips across the smooth surface of her kitten heels. The same kitten heels that framed your kneeling body… ever so close to the quivering hands that were bound and resting against the small of your back.

You were sweating, you realized. Only lightly - but you felt as though a flame were burning you from the inside out. Making your body hot to the touch and creating a cool contrast as soon as Larissa’s palms settled. You reveled in the feeling. You reveled in your helplessness.

You reveled in your submission.

“Are you willing to give yourself up to me, little one?” Your lover’s voice was soft and cloying. Deceptively innocent and light. As if she didn’t know your answer - but she did. She always did.

And after a moment of silence, one where you felt suspended in time, hesitant to talk due to earlier commands, Larissa’s deep chuckle met your ears.

“Good girl… you may speak now, darling. Answer me.”

And so you did. Your tongue felt strange when you finally pulled it back into your mouth, but after a quick swallow and clearing of your throat, you croaked out a small “Yes.” She was quick to rectify your mistake.

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Both of you seemed to let out dual quiet sighs of relief as soon as the title passed over your lips. It was your safe haven. Your middle ground. The thing that tethered both of you to reality and kept you rooted within the moment; reminding you both of your trust. She was your Mistress. You were her puppy. Her darling. Her sweet girl. Her disgusting little whore. Her everything. She told you to jump and you did. She told you to speak and you did. She told you to hold out your hands for them to be bound behind your back and you did. ‘Stick out your tongue, pup. No speaking until I say so, understood?’ ‘Back straight, thighs together… there we go. Good girl~’ ‘So pretty for me… are you ready to begin?’ And sometimes the domination was far from sexual. Sometimes it was just her making sure you ate. Sometimes it was just her falling asleep with her arms around your body. Sometimes it was just her holding your hand in public and giving it two squeezes to discreetly ask if you were alright.

The push and pull, to put it simply, was marvelous.

And there were occasions, too, when Larissa wasn’t feeling it. When the world tipped one of her scales a bit too far and when the personalities of others became trying and finicky. During those times, during those sacred moments, you took over. And the beauty that stemmed from that was far more abstract - less concrete and more flowing. You were not Larissa’s Mistress, but she was your baby. Your Larissa. Your beautiful girl. And you cherished the moments in which she’d allow you to wind your arms around her thighs, tug her closer, and love on the heaven between her legs until she was shaking and gasping and pleading and pulling your hair and getting so close- so cl-close- so close close close closeclosecl- close!- only to let out a loud long whine when you reared back at the last second, taking her pleasure with you. Yes yes yes, such submission from your strong intelligent lover was an ego boost to the highest degree.

But with each indulgence came a price. And every time you felt yourself trip over your power, nearly righting yourself and grasping control, a cool strong hand pressed against the tender spot between your shoulder blades and pushed you over the metaphorical edge. Knocking you to your knees. Wrapping a fistful of your hair over her knuckles, letting it pool into her palm, just so she could pull your head back and remind you of your real place.

Beneath her. Always beneath her….

The most adorable little pet she’d ever had the pleasure of encountering.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Larissa’s voice interrupted your train of thought, emanating a strong sense of smug satisfaction.

You felt the need to squirm in place; to check your posture and reset your pose; to straighten your shoulders and flex your fingers; but your Mistress’s hands distracted you. They traced the bare skin of your arms, right down to each elbow, warming you even further with their soft touch. And as soon as you leaned back into the feeling, wishing to experience the softness of her legs pressed to your shoulder blades and spine, she was gone. Her warm touch disappeared - her heels click-clacked their way out of range - her fingertips skated along the side of your neck, down its slope, before falling away. Of course then it didn’t take long for you to frown, wishing she was still there, disliking the fact that she had walked off. But when Larissa next spoke, her voice came from directly in front of you.

“Now,” she whispered, low and calm, “tell me why you’re here, pup.”

You swallowed a whimper, feeling your core lurch with hot desire at the sound of that delicious little pet name slipping off of her velvet tongue. It was one of your favorites - one of the only ones that made you melt oh so quickly. And Larissa wielded it with an immense amount of wicked power. The call of it came like a siren’s tune, and you were slave to the warmth that washed into your abdomen when she used it to torture you. Just as she did then; knowing you’d have trouble focusing.

Yet still, you pushed on. After all, you were not there for fun and games. Oh no no no, it was a lesson - as your Mistress had said. And she rarely changed her mind.

“I did something bad,” you responded, meek and small.

“Mm,” your woman hummed shortly, most likely nodding as she contemplated her next words. Early on into your relationship you found that she typically enjoyed doing that - taking a moment to rifle through her vocabulary just so she could conjure the most heart-stoppingly sinful sentences known to man. And once you fell deeper into your play and into your role as her darling girl… well then you were never safe from her eloquence. And her next words proved it. “And tell me, my sweet pup, what did you do to upset me?” The evil innocent tone returned.

You hesitated. The words built up on your tongue. There was so much more behind your reason. Behind your action. You hadn’t meant to, really. Your mind just… tended to wander. And though your relationship was built on trust, finding it to be the most important pillar you stood on, you found yourself slipping into a rather negative mindset some hours ago. It started in the middle of the night while Larissa was sleeping. She’d turned over in bed, getting more comfortable to face the other way and relieve the ache in her shoulder. Sometimes sleeping was hard, so you’d admire her and think about your lover until Morpheus drew you away. Though on that night, last night, your eyes traced the outline of her body- from the curve of her calf to the gentle contoured muscles of her back to the tousled platinum hair that spilled across the pillow- and you found yourself growing sad. Weary. Hurt. Nothing had happened and yet you still laid there, wondering if maybe you would never be good enough for Larissa. She had been through so much in her life - overcome nearly every bit of diversity and every bit of bullying and every bit of stress - and came out on top in the end. A kindhearted, brilliant, intelligent, beautiful woman that ran her Academy with the grace and care of a true golden soul. You admired her so much that it was difficult to put into words. And you’d tried in the past, you had, but it was futile. No one compared to Larissa Weems. But you were sure- certain- many people compared to you. You, who didn’t graduate nearly top of her class. You, who didn’t have such a high-earning, well-known career. You, who didn’t have particularly enchanting features and whose voice sometimes squeaked at the most inopportune times. You, with curves a bit bigger than most. You, with a mind so busy and cluttered that you could barely wade through it without feeling as though you were drowning. Yes, there were many women who could compare to you. Who were better than you. Who would give up their livelihoods to share even a bit of romantic air with Larissa Weems. And those women were beautiful… and they didn’t need so much comfort… and they could go a day without feeling slight panic whenever spending more than 3 hours having not heard from their lover. And those women, some of them at least, had money. The funds to buy Larissa whatever she wanted; the coin needed to tend to their own cosmetic needs - to get their nails done and their hair styled and to purchase the best products available so that their skin was soft and smelled of roses whenever Larissa was around to worship it. You couldn’t do that. You didn’t have that type of money - not yet at least. And maybe you never would. But either way… either way…

“I- I was mean to myself,” you felt the need to explain, “but I didn’t mean to upset you, I just-”

“Hush… darling.” Larissa spoke quickly, cutting you off with kind intentions as her palms came up to frame your face. Her fingertips caressed the spaces beneath your ears, drawing slow circles that had you keening and shivering. “I understand, my love,” her words, chosen carefully again, worked to put your mind at ease, “and I know. I know you didn’t ‘mean to’ sweetheart - but I’m not upset. I’m not upset with you.” Her loving tone had you blinking back tears. “Here,” her fingers moved to the loose knot behind your head, “do you want me to remove this, love? So we can talk eye to eye?”

You knew she had the best intentions behind her offer, but you still found yourself worrying.

“I don’t want to stop the play Mistress please-”

“We won’t stop if you don’t want to, my sweetling. We’ll just pause. Does that sound okay?”

And it did. It sounded more than okay. So you nodded and just like that, the blindfold was taken off. Slowly and gently, peeled away from your face, revealing the breathtaking smile that glued itself to your lover’s painted lips. You blinked a few times, getting yourself familiar with the dim grey light that filtered into the room from the windows. The rain had been off and on for the past few days, painting the world in gloomy colors, but it was lovely that you and Larissa agreed that stormy weather was the best weather. And as soon as your vision became comfortable, you gave your lover a small reassuring smile - silently telling her that you were okay. The sight of it seemed to put her at ease nearly instantly as she slid the blindfold away and put her hands on your face again. Her expression was open, vulnerable in its compassion as she stared at you. There was no desire to hold herself back; she could admire if she wished to. And she did. Those sapphire eyes of hers were wicked in their warmth, reflecting her slight worry as her brows scrunched together and the lines in her face deepened with sincerity.

“Better?” She questioned, drawing your eyes to her lips.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a small nod.

“Mhm?” Came her high-toned teasing response, making you blush and shrink into yourself. She took that reaction as a ‘yes’ and let out a little chuckle at the sight of your bashfulness. “Okay darling… would you like to pick up where we left off? We can talk about it or continue.”

Her tone had changed, becoming more serious as the topic shifted. You appreciated it of course, but the lust that tugged at the back of your psyche hated the delay in your… activities and wanted something more. Something close. Wanted Larissa - which was not unusual. So you answered with a sweet middle ground.

“May I explain myself first?” Your eyes were shining with love when you next looked at her.

“You never have to ask me that, love. Yes, of course. I am listening,” and she really was. Her fingers continued their soothing circles beneath your ears as she knelt in front of you and paid close attention.

“Right, thank you,” you nodded and took a deep breath before staring into those blue eyes and pouring a bit more of your heart out onto the floor for her. “I just- um- overthinking, you know? It can become a bit overwhelming and… I’m just really sorry. For isolating and- and doubting your love for me.” Your lips turned down into a frown.

The self-isolation truly had been an accident; you didn’t even realize you were doing it until Larissa returned to your quarters and coaxed you out of bed. You were quiet and dim while she stopped in for a visit, keeping your eyes on the floor and your responses short. That alone was enough for the headmistress to cancel the rest of her plans for the day and stay with you. And after some much-needed cuddling and quiet time, a kiss led to two- then three- then things progressed… and you soon found yourself on the bedroom floor, kneeling in front of your full-body mirror, waiting for instruction. Larissa knew what your thought process was, she understood your struggle, and that’s why she triple-checked if you still wanted to go through with a scene before you started. It was a more taboo way of establishing comfort and reassurance, but you felt safe. Protected. And the lust kept the bad feelings at bay. Larissa knew to take all of that into account when she thought of her lesson - and she hoped above all else that it would stick. Just like her next words did as soon as her dulcet tones caressed your ears.

“Please Y/n, don’t apologize. I understand my darling. I know it’s hard. I know…” she cooed, gently bringing you closer until your foreheads were pressed together. Oh she smelled so good; of Gardenias and fresh laundry. If you could wrap yourself up in her forever, you would. “But it’s going to be okay. Tell me,” Larissa inhaled, moving back a little bit to look you in the eye. Her expression was serious but her eyes were lit from the inside - swirling with mirth and love and a million other beautiful things that made you feel like you were floating. “Do you trust me?”

You didn’t even think to hesitate.

“Of course.” You trusted her with everything. You trusted her with your life, with your heart, with every thought in your mind. You trusted her with your breath.

“Then trust me when I say that I have never loved anyone in the way I love you,” Larissa breathed, licking her dry lips, darting her gaze between your eyes. “And I don’t think- no, no I know- I’ll never want anyone else. Ever.” And the radiant smile that pulled at her beautiful mouth then - the fascinating way it sharpened at the edges and how endearing it was to see those perfectly imperfect pearly whites shining in the dim light of the afternoon… how it revealed every delightful thing she felt for you… well you simply couldn’t help yourself.

It probably would have been easier if your hands weren’t tied behind your back, but the beat of your heart enjoyed the thrill your body felt when falling forward, eager to catch Larissa in a kiss. And being the ever-observant, impossibly understanding woman she was, she met you halfway. Moving her hands from your face to your biceps, stabilizing you in your spot, letting out a long indulgent moan as soon as your lips connected - it all felt like divinity personified. And while you sat there languishing, moving your mouths in a slow aching tandem that had your lips tingling afterward, embracing the nearly sadistic way Larissa’s tongue caressed your own, the fire in your abdomen rose again. It clawed at you and begged for her. Sang for her.

“Thank you,” came your whiny breath, spoken against the soft skin of Larissa’s lips. “Thank you, thank you, I love you. So much.” And before she could respond, you kissed her again. And again. And again. And your lover’s hands were wicked as they danced along the expanse of your chest, down the delicate rolls of your tummy, right down to the velvet of your thighs. Those strong fingers of hers squeezed and pinched and tickled, driving you mad, making you shudder. And as soon as Larissa pulled away, quickly moving to press a warm palm against the center of your chest, a loud keening mewl escaped your throat. Once you opened your eyes, daring to fix her with a pout, admiring the way a string of spit kept your wanting lips tethered, you felt yourself falling back into the beautiful malleable headspace of being Larissa’s darling.

“Oh,” she breathed, looking at you with eyes that rivaled the blue-dark of dusk, “you’re feeling it again, aren’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you swallowed harshly, trying to relieve the sudden dryness of your throat.

Ever the most observant in the room, your lover caught your slight discomfort and tempered her smile - making it soft and small as she patted your thighs and stood up. You didn’t need to be a genius to figure what she was doing; the sound of her heels being kicked off and placed neatly by the bedroom door said enough. And a moment later, Larissa came padding back into the room with a glass of cool water in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. A quick mildly confused glance at the blue towel had her smirking.

“This won’t take long, pup,” were her words while she placed it on the floor and took a seat behind you, letting her legs frame your thighs. Leaning around, she placed the glass to your lips and watched intently as you took small sips. There was no prompting needed and there were no words said. Just the gentle tip and take, tip and take. You were thirsty and your Mistress provided. And the eye-contact you made, sharing your thanks and your appreciation and your knowledge of her love had her lighting up with the warmest little grin. “Is that enough?” She asked softly as she pulled the glass away one last time and ran the pad of her thumb along the corners of your lips.

“Yes, thank you,” your volume matched her whisper, quiet and reassuring.

A blonde eyebrow rose. You smiled shyly, amused by your own slip up.

“Yes, thank you Mistress.” And that seemed to be enough for her as she inclined her head and leaned back to sit up straight, correcting her posture and setting her shoulders and… oh…

When your eyes glanced up, locking onto the glass in front of you, you felt a river of desire burn hot within your body. Oh she was practically looming. So… so tall behind you… long legs spread… and you watched, utterly entranced, as she placed the glass down on the hardwood floor and then turned that pale graceful neck in one slow swoop, immediately fixing her gaze on yours through the reflection of the mirror. Oh your Mistress looked just as hungry as she said she was. Her expression practically screamed ‘Let me devour you’, but her actions were the thing that spoke to utter devastation.

“Adjust for me, pup,” her breath was sweet against your ear, making your hair move ever so slightly as she glided her hands down your sides and to your thighs, helping you maneuver yourself into a better position.

You winced at the ache behind your knees. There would most likely be bruises there tomorrow, but you never really minded that. It was just a trophy of sorts - a testament to your excellent skill of following directions. And once you were finally in the desired pose, stretching your legs out in front of you to quell the dull ache and relieve any pressure, Larissa took it upon herself to adjust you further. She let out a small huff of delight when you squeaked in surprise, taken aback by her speed once her legs moved and wound themselves around yours; using the strength of her calves and thighs to pull your legs apart, bend them so your feet were flat to the floor, and keep you spread open for her viewing pleasures. Instantly, you looked away; averting your eyes to the ceiling as embarrassment tugged at you. Air fled to the newly exposed skin and chilled the insides of your arousal-painted thighs, leaving you flushed and shivering in your Mistress’s grasp. The very same Mistress who had a mean streak for seeing you flustered and at a loss for words - making sure to maintain eye contact as long fingers wrapped around the front of your chin and jaw and tugged your head down.

“Look,” Larissa growled, her soft lips looking perfect despite the smudged lipstick. Her eyes were smoldering. Her body was poised to strike. “Look at yourself,” she repeated, softer, gentler, allowing you the time to obey.

And obey you did.

Sometimes it was hard to look in the mirror. You knew you were self-conscious and you were okay with telling people that, mainly because they usually felt the same. But ever since being with Larissa, that changed. The days in which you cringed at yourself became more and more rare - and only occasionally did you find yourself scrutinizing your body. You’d done it earlier that morning; staring into the same mirror; nearly falling apart at what you saw. But as you sat there then, in a completely different mood and light, you felt at least a little bit more empowered. And your eyes roamed helplessly, thinking only of pleasing Larissa.

From the slight line of your collarbone to the curve of your biceps, leading to the sides of your body as your forearms disappeared behind your back. From the chub of your tummy and the way it folded oh so naturally to the hills of your thighs, pressed outward and trembling with desire. From the crests of your knees to the blush of your chest to the dilated pupils in your eyes, going right down… down… down to the swollen wet heaven between your legs. Without even realizing it, your eyes darted away, spooked like an anxious bunny. But the wolf behind you noticed - and the wolf behind you was having none of it. The hand around your chin shook slightly. Your breath got caught in your throat.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, pup.”

And because her authority did unspeakable things to you, your gaze went sliding back to the main attraction. To the ambrosia Larissa desired. To the peak of your femininity. To the throbbing source of lust that sent warm lines of need through your veins.

“There we go…” Your Mistress’s hush had you shaking as her breath caressed the soft skin of your neck. “So pretty, aren’t you?” At your moment of silence, she pressed a kiss to the curve of your shoulder and kept her eyes burning into yours. “Aren’t you?” Her voice deepened.

Instantaneously, you nodded. It was hard to believe - it was - but if Larissa believed it… if Larissa believed it… then yes. Yes, absolutely. Yes yes yes. And your Mistress, thank heavens, let the lack of words slip for once and continued talking. Her fingers went lax around your chin and moved to caress your jaw, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, so pretty,” her cheek pressed lightly against yours, “so… so… beautiful… so brilliant, darling.”

You swallowed, taking in the sight of you all over again. Larissa’s legs keeping yours in place - Larissa’s hand on the side of your face - Larissa’s other hand inching along the softness of your inner thigh - Larissa’s gaze never wavering from where it’s poised over your shoulder - Larissa’s control wired through every tendon in her body - and Larissa’s lips pulled into the most sinful smirk as her fingers move faster than lightning and go to part the lips of your cunt. Leaving it bare and spread and cold. Leaving it wet and aching and open to her and only her. Your hips jumped, sparked by the touch, desperate for more. More more more.

“M-mistress-,” you whined, lips quivering.

“What?” Was her harsh reply as she used her middle and pointer finger to pull more - to stretch more - to leave the softness of your cunt on display. “What is it, puppy?”

You felt your brain fizzle into nothing. You felt your hands tighten into fists behind your back. Not a word was scrawled onto your tongue. Your lips parted helplessly. ‘Please,’ you wanted to say, ‘please please please. I need it. You. Anything. Everything you’re willing to give me. Please please please.’ But the only thing that came out was a small stuttering keen, flitting in and out of sound, making a raging storm of embarrassment boil within you. You didn’t often mean to make the sounds you made! Not always! It just… happened. Like your body had no control while your Mistress was present. Like it knew that she wanted a show and that it was the proper time to shine. To deliver. And with that, you bowed your head and averted your eyes.

That was strike one.

A quick wet ‘smack!’ rang out into the silence, breaking the erotic heaviness of your breath. At first, you were confused as to where the sound came from… but then the sting settled. And the impact snapped you back into yourself. And your hips jerked without control, startled by the suddenness of your Mistress’s cruelty. The columns of her fingers reprimanded you swiftly, landing firmly onto the lips of your cunt and the needy bud of your clit. Striking them only once but leaving your toes curling in a wicked mix of surprise, pleasure, and pain. You looked up into the mirror, eyes wide, taking in the way your skin began to turn red.

“Oh did I hurt you, pup? I’m sorry…” Larissa cooed, figuring that the only thing to make it better was to massage the pain away.

And in the very next moment, your body tensed. You watched, suspended in horror and anticipation, as one slim fingertip, dexterous and hellbent, dipped between the folds of your haven and began drawing slow… slow… slow circles around your clit.

“M- Miss- hah-” you tried mumbling her name, tried getting the title out to tell her yes yes yes feels so good, but all you could do was allow your lips to fall open and your head to fall back, resting against her shoulder as you gasped.

The pleasure she granted you was often indescribable - and it didn’t help that she could destroy you so easily. One long dark glance, one hand upon your arm, one word spoken against your ear - she wielded her seduction like a very carefully sharpened sword. And then she stabbed you with it until you were a mess on the bed. Or the couch. Or the floor. Or the countertop. And you reciprocated when you could- really, you often wanted to- but your Mistress quite enjoyed running through you so thoroughly. And her lesson in front of the mirror was no different.

“What’s wrong puppy?” Her tone spoke of fake sympathy. “Am I hurting you, darling?”

You picked your head up to plead with her- to tell her to go faster because your thighs were shaking and your cunt was aching and you felt so empty inside- but her touch was retreating as soon as you opened your mouth.

“No,” you whispered, gazing at her in the glass. “No no no,” your head was shaking back and forth; a testament to your desperation.

But your Mistress was not often shaken by things like that. Only the devil herself could withstand seeing her sinful little angel beg for pleasure; only the devil could step back and watch the poor thing drown in lust - and since that was the case, you figured Larissa was Satan in the flesh. She tore you apart and put you back together. She unraveled you and reclaimed your pieces. She pressed hot open kisses to your neck and let out little hums against your ear before running the flats of her palms over the skin of your thighs.

“I want you to tell me something,” she whispered, mindlessly splaying her fingers. Your eyes met in the mirror. Hers were dark and hooded. Yours were blown wide with suspenseful need. You nodded, lost for words. “I want you to tell me that I live lavishly.”

You frowned, momentarily confused. What did she mean? Yes- she did. She lived lavishly, sort of. No mansion and no riches, but definitely expensive clothing and trinkets and things of the sort. And she often treated you to pricey gifts and dinners and such. But why did she need-

“Just say it, pup.”

You licked your lips. “You- um- you live lav-lavishly Mistress.”

The pleased grin you got, shadowed by the column of your neck, had you smiling back nervously.

“Good.. good…,” Larissa hummed, pressing a small rewarding kiss to your shoulder. “And what does that mean, pup? What do I… surround myself with?”

And her hands went running along your thighs again, dipping closer and closer to your heaven each time before skittering away. She knew she was messing with your thoughts, but she didn’t particularly care. The cogs in your head were turning slowly, rusted with distracting lust. What did she surround herself with? You took a second to glance around the bedroom - at the mahogany furniture and four poster bed and sky-blue silk sheets and duvet and fluffy white pillows and the pretty patterned egg-shell carpet in the middle of the floor. You took in the high cathedral-style windows, the velvet curtains, Larissa’s ornate vanity, her perfume and makeups and hair-care products, her heels and walk-in closet. You thought about the salary she spent on garments and gloves and coats and how each of her outfits matched the seasons and the way her jewelry tended to sparkle in the light. Such luxuries were not things you could afford on your own. Such luxuries were glorious. Expensive. One could even say…

“Beautiful.”

It came out as an awed whisper. Larissa smiled sharply.

“What was that?”

Her fingers pitter-pattered along your skin. Closer… closer… closer…

“B-beautiful things,” you breathed.

“Mmm,” came her deep purr, spoken into your ear, caressing the inferno within you. “And what does that make you, puppy?”

You swallowed. That- well that made you… goodness, you couldn’t even think it. Your gaze returned to your body. Were you what she said? Were you truly? Were the discolored strikes of lightning across your stretched skin something to be admired? Were the veins of your feet enchanting? Was the hair that graced your upper-lip and sometimes your chin and the spots around your eyebrows all a thing of glory? Were your unkempt nail beds and regularly bowed posture and easily bruised skin all aspects of yourself to be adored?

Well… Larissa certainly thought so.

When you brought your attention away from the cellulite of your thighs and looked up, staring into those cool blue depths, you saw nothing but love. Nothing but desire. She knew you weren’t perfect and she loved you either way. She had you in her hands, leaning against her body, restrained and vulnerable and left open for her amusement. She had you keening and whining and wet beneath her touch. She wanted you. She needed you. She noticed you. And your Mistress lived up to that observation when she tutted lightly - ‘tut tut tut’ - three times with her tongue tapping against the roof of her mouth, spotting your hesitation.

“Say it for me,” her voice spoke devilishly, “say it. Just for me.”

“A-” you swallowed back a noise of anguished desire, “-a… b-beautiful thing…?”

“Is that a question?” She admonished immediately. You shook your head.

“No, Mistress. A beautiful-” you inhaled deeply and let the words out with your breath, “- a beautiful thing.”

Larissa smirked.

“Again.”

You let out a frustrated huff. You just wanted her to touch you. Her hands were so close - her fingertips were caressing the very edges of your heaven - she knew exactly what you wanted. But she wasn’t giving it to you. And your frustration was only another strike.

‘Smack!’ swift rectification was delivered to your cunt, forcing a husky gasp out of your open mouth while your upper body jerked forward- sparked by utter surprise. The sting settled again, red and tingly and sensitive, as you tried to regulate your breathing.

“Again,” your Mistress growled, teeth flashing behind red lips.

“A beautiful th-thing,” you sniffed, abdomen clenching when the pleasure from before slowly resumed - spurred on by Larissa’s gentle ministrations as one fingertip caressed circles around your clit.

“Mmmm there we go,” she drawled, “not so difficult, hm?” You shook your head instantly, not really knowing if it was a genuine question or not. It probably didn’t matter either way as your Mistress’s words continued - flowing like thick wine down the parched skin of your throat. “No, no… so precious…”

And the slow teasing circles became fast - switching to little back and forth swats right over the desperate nub of your clit, pressing light pressure and spreading the stickiness of your desperation over the needy bundle of nerves. You felt heat rise to the surface of your skin, making you sweat as your hips bucked into your Mistress’s hold. Little whines and moans, high-pitched and keening, slipped off of your tongue as wave after wave of lust flowed through your body. You felt your eyelids fall, draping you in darkness while your head went craning back to lean against your lover’s shoulder. Your hands, meanwhile, twitched like mad and clenched together - desperate to grasp at anything so you could ground yourself, but it was to no use. They were firmly tied, just set as a reminder for your obedience. For your submission.

“M-Mi-M-” her title teetered on the edge of your lips but never fell. You looked helpless - useless - pathetic. Whining beneath the dexterous touch of your Mistress; falling apart under the slightest bit of pressure. Drool pooled onto your tongue.

“What do I do with my beautiful things, pet?” She spoke quickly, cutting off your thoughts. You could barely understand what she was asking - but that wasn’t enough. It was a response or nothing. “What do I do with them?”

Your mind scrambled for something- anything- as you reveled in your pleasure. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity of searching for the correct response, you threw your head down and knocked your chin against your chest, eyes still scrunched and face twisted in pleasure.

“T-take care of- of them! Mistress!” You mewled brokenly, moving your hips to match the pace of her touch.

“Oh good girl!” She gasped, delighted by your good thinking, impressed by your cloudy intelligence. Yes yes- you were a good girl- such a good girl- so good for her so good so good so good- “Stick out your tongue.”

Your tongue, wet and quivering, lolled out of your mouth instantly and rested gently between your top row of teeth and your bottom lip, already slowly starting to drip with drool. You could feel her gaze burning into you through the mirror’s reflection. She was enjoying her little lesson oh so much.

“Good good.” You whimpered beneath her praise, feeling the muscles in your hips and legs start to burn with desperation. The very beginnings of your crescendo- your release- your wonderful little death- crested over the temple of your lust, hinting at oncoming pleasure. Larissa could feel the way your clit twitched from her touch, straining hopelessly with each pass of her finger. She loved it. She loved seeing you come undone. She loved seeing you admit to the truth.

“Repeat after me, slut. And don’t miss a beat,” she commanded. “I am beautiful.”

You began shaking your head, silently telling her no- it was too embarrassing- please don’t make me- but your Mistress didn’t care. It was just another strike in her book. Another wet aching ‘slap!’ that kissed against your cunt, making it raw and far more sensitive than it was before - forcing your defenses to crumble. Forcing you to submit wholeheartedly.

“I- I’m beautiful!” you cried, letting your tongue greet the heavy air once more.

“I am strong.”

“I’m- I’m- I am strong! Mis- Mistress, please!”

“I am capable.”

“‘M cap-capable- capable hnngg-”

“I am loved.”

“Y-yes! Loved- loved so much- yesyesyesyesplease-”

“Open your eyes.”

“Op- open-” you blinked as your mind caught up, letting the words fizzle into nothing within your mouth as you peered up at yourself through the mirror.

“There’s my needy girl,” your Mistress cooed, “look at you. Look at your pretty self. Look at your pretty cunt, puppy.”

And you did. You looked- no, admired- yourself. You admired your messy hair and the way little strands plastered themselves to the light sheen of sweat on your forehead. You admired your trembling body and the way the endearing cellulite and chub shook with each rock of your hips. You admired the flush across your skin and the heavy-lidded look of your eyes - and the way your eyebrows furrowed and your tongue trembled. You admired the closeness with your Mistress and how snug you were pressed against her body. Framed between her legs, held down and in place, controlled and loved. One hand working wonders between your legs, caressing your heaven, and one hand trailing along your body- from thigh to breast, feeling and wandering and loving all the same.

“This is just one thing I love about you, Y/n,” Larissa spoke, looking like an angel of desire sitting there behind you; hair askew and blue eyes darkened and red lips parted, silently affected by your longing.

You were shuddering in her hold, letting out a string of mindless sounds as the pleasure increased and increased and increased. The thread of rope in your abdomen was quickly unraveling, close to snapping, close to throwing you over the edge of a mind-blowing climax. And Larissa was relentless in her mission to push you into the depths.

“How good you are for me, how much control you give me,” she hissed, “how pretty you look panting like an eager little whore,” her accent embraced the words in a mind-dizzyingly beautiful hug. She sounded like the angels’ harps. “My needy darling- my pretty little pet- my baby- my Y/n. Mine mine mine. Say it.”

“Y-yours! Yoursyours yours-” you mumbled, eyes rolling back into your head as the wet sounds of your pleasure harmonized with your Mistress’s voice.

“Mineminemine, that’s it. That’s it, little puppy. Good- good.”

And that’s when you felt your mind go blank.

“M-M- ple-please- pleasepleaseplease gonna- gonna cu-cum- cum please- M-Miss-”

The heat was startling. You were shaking. You were crying. You were panting and whining and it felt so- so- sososososo-

“You want to cum, puppy? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Hm? Beg, darling. Beg for me,” your Mistress demanded, voice as sharp as a knife’s edge.

“Yes, yes,” you gasped, nodding as you spoke and pleaded and begged begged begged- “Please please please I’m- I’m a good girl- good girl- yours- please lemme cum please Mistress- Mommy- Rissa- please- please Larissa PLEASE-!”

The rope snapped. The rocks beneath your feet slipped. The sun fell. The clouds disintegrated. The world clung onto the universe. The heat in your abdomen had you clenching- clenching- clenching-

And Larissa’s touch went away. Faded. Disappeared.

Your ears buzzed.

Your feet dangled off the edge.

The rope held itself together by the thinnest string.

“No.”

And your Mistress sealed your fate with one word alone.

̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙

Did I do this instead of write more of my book, respond to some requests, and just generally pay attention to life outside of this? Yes. Yes, I did. I did also get a haircut though and I feel quite beautiful. So- anyway. Hope you enjoyed. - Ripley x

̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙̟ ˙ ̟ ˙ ˖ ̟ ˙ ˖ ˙

#fanfic #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #fanfiction #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #fanfictionwriter #wlw fanfic #rippersz #wednesday netflix #smut fic #smutty fanfic #principal larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal weems #principal weems x reader #wlw smut #wlw fic

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dinozarr · 8 months

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since baefy demanded i do gymtrainer!choso... ¹⁸⁺

𝐆𝐘𝐌𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑!𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 . . . who offered you “private lessons” for after your relentless gym work outs. he’s been your number one supporter throughout your journey and you couldn’t have adored him more. he was practically every girls dream man. funny. smart. supportive. he had it all down to the bone.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he had to know his way around a woman’s body, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he did seeing as how attractive he is. he had the personality and the looks? he most definitely knew how to seduce a woman. and, he absolutely did. well, he was able to please you, at least.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the first time he brought you back to his place for your private lessons, he found out you were still a virgin and sat you in front of his full-length mirror. for the next hour, or so, he had your legs spread completely with your back leaning into his broad-rock solid chest. one arm wrapped around you to rip your panties off, gliding his thick calloused fingers through your dripping folds; opposite hand reaching for your sports bra and ripping it off completely with his raw strength. he fondled your breast, stimulating your body with the simultaneous kneading of each sensitive area.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he watched with an arrogant shaped grin spread across his face, allowing your head to rest along his shoulder as he planted kitten kisses against the silky skin of your neck. each time he’d pump his fingers into you, your body caved in and whimpering murmurs were traveling through his sense of hearing. he loved every bit of it, purposely dragging out slow thrusts just to see you squirm against his firm grasp and practically fuck yourself by bucking your hips against his fingers. the double stimulation had your mind going haywire, eyes barely able to stay open all the while you hit your climax.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the second time you went over to his place, you could feel a heartbeat in your cervix the minute you stepped foot into his apartment. you thought by sitting on his couch, that you could calm yourself down. however, when one conversation led to another, he had you face down-ass up against the arm rest. your hands gripped the fabric like your life depended on it, eyes rolling with each stern rut he thrusted into your desperate cunt. mewls and broken gasps exasperated from your trembling lips, mixing into the sounds of his lower abdomen smacking against your ass.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the way his pulsating erection dragged against your walls was like no other. you’ve never dealt with a man his size, taking a minute to adjust to him. after a while into him pounding your drenched pussy, he grabbed one of your arms and pinned it to your lower back, your other gripping his couch even tighter. he had one hand pinning you down, the other in a life-threatening grasp around the skin of your hip. every time he pulled out, he left just the tip opening your sopping hole, thrusting back in with such merciless force it had you quite literally seeing stars. he didn’t care that all of your juices were coating his couch, he wanted to make sure your tight cunt was marred into the shape of his dick.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy fucking in every position possible all over every inch of his apartment, your body practically craving him at this point. and, he craved you just as much as you did him. maybe a bit more. he loved watching you suck him in further whenever he dared to pull out, your cries growing whinier throughout his veins raking against your walls oh so deliciously. he also loved looking down at you whilst your mouth was overfilled with his dick, one hand resting atop your head as he guided you through taking every inch of him. all he did was coo your sobs and use the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tears that messed up your beautiful makeup. it was definitely a sight for sore eyes.

NOTEZ : i most definitely wrote this for my beautiful gf @angelsfae 😻😻👐👐(jazz hands) but i guess i hope you guys enjoy it too🙄🙄

#❙ ⋆ 𝒁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝑺 ❞#choso x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #choso #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #female reader #anime smut #anime x reader

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 5 days

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omgg i loveee your patrick zweig x reader fics, could please write a bit more about patrick zweig x pregnant reader or patrick with his newborn baby (i have a soft spot for that lol)

So when Y/N first found out she was pregnant she was scared and nervous. Patrick was still a pro tennis player and they barely talked about kids. So when Y/N saw that the pregnancy test was positive she didn’t know how to react. Patrick was practicing so it would be awhile before he got back. A few hours later he returned to find Y/N sitting at the kitchen table with something in her hand. “Hey baby.” He greeted. She gave him a soft smile, “Hey.” Her body was tense and she had every emotion. “Can you come sit?” She asked him. He looked confused but sat across from her as she stared at whatever was in her hand. “What’s wrong?” He asked. She sighed and sat the pregnancy test on the table for him to see. She slid it over to him. He picked it up and gasped. “You’re Pregnant?” He asked and she nodded. He stood up and ran over to her and picked her up. “This is amazing!” He said and twirled her around. She laughed and he set her down. They were almost face to face but the height difference made that impossible. “You’re having my baby!” He said with a smile. “I know it’s amazing.” She said, happy that he reacted that way.

Patrick was pretty overprotective over her as the days went on. He didn’t want Y/N to lift a finger. So anytime he was there she wouldn’t. Even if she had to shower he’d offer to help. “Patrick you just wanna see me naked.” “Well duh but I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He said. When the raging hormones hit he took it all. From Y/N yelling at him to crying and obviously to wanted to jump his bones. That was his favorite obviously. He loved having sex and the fact Y/N wanted it more than him? That was awesome. “This is the most we’ve had sex.” He breathed out as he collapsed next to her. “Are you complaining?” She asked, he shook his head. “Hell no.” Even the crazy cravings that she got. “I’m sorry you want Pickles and popcorn but together? So the pickle juice with popcorn?” She nodded. He looked at her weird but got it for her anyways. He loved her so much and the little baby growing inside of her.

When the time came Patrick freaked out as Y/N yelled in pain. He called Art to figure it out and help since he had a kid of his own. “Take her to the hospital you dumbass!” He yelled at the man. So he grabbed what was needed and took Y/N to the hospital. The car ride was awful. She kept screaming at him to drive faster. “Babe I’m going as fast as I can.” When the arrived Y/N was took to a room immediately and Patrick watched as his wife screamed as the contractions hit. He took a hold of her hand as she got ready to push. “You got this baby!” He said as she pushed. “You did this to me you asshole! You put this baby in me! We are never having sex again!” She yelled at him. He hoped that wasn’t true. Once the baby was out the crying could be heard. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said. They looked at each other and smiled. “A little tennis star.” Patrick said. The doctor handed the baby to Y/N and she awed. She was so tiny in her arms and looked so cute. Patrick stared at the scene in front of him never wanting to forget it. “Do you want to hold her?” Y/N asked him. He nodded as the tears started forming. He took the baby out of his wife’s arms and cooed at the little baby. “You look just like your mom.” He said and Y/N scoffed. “Patrick she doesn’t look like either of us yet. Well maybe your big nose.” “Hey you like my big nose especially when you sit on it.” He said and Y/N hit him. “No talk like that in front of the baby. “ She growled. He apologized but smirked at her. “Babe we have a little us in my arms.” He said and she smiled. “Yeah we do.”

Patrick wouldn’t shut up about his newborn. Art was happy that Patrick had a baby now but the man really couldn’t stop talking about her. “Art she’s so cute and has my nose!” “I know you’ve told me 8 times already!” Safe to say that Patrick loves her a lot.

#challengers movie #challengers 2024 #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig x you #josh o'connor #mike faist #art donaldson #zendaya #tashi duncan

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sunsents · 1 year

Text

neteyam sully hcs - how he teases you (M)

headcannons about Neteyam teasing little shit sully. I've been craving to write this because I just KNOW he's so annoying and smug when he wants to be.

➵ pairing: agedup!neteyam x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

➵ warnings: this gets spicy towards the end so be warned. also, neteyams annoying asf, so be warned again.

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

Neteyam has a knack for romantics. He's seen plenty of his parents' very public displays of affection that make the entire herd say "eewwww". At the ripe age of 37, Jake constantly pines over his wife and Neytiri is no better.

The fact that the married couple has enough kids to form a goddamn baseball team is enough proof on its own. (And yes, Jake is painfully aware of this fact and is itching to introduce the sport to the poor na'vi children.)

Neteyam also has a way with words. In fact, he's so good with them that he can wax poetic about your bowel movements and you'd swoon nonetheless.

"Neteyam, are you drunk?" you'd ask after a particularly rowdy festival.

"No, I'm a poet." he'd tell you, drunk off his ass.

Cue the guy saying whatever comes to mind and trying to make it sound beautiful. "Oh, ____, Why, _____. Every move of your unaware knife stabs my heart. Your hands drip rewards of the sweetest juices a man dare crave." when you’re literally trying to cut fruit, or some shit like this. (idk im no poet use your imagination.)

Worst of all, it works. This man is mighty aware of how embarrassed and shy you get when he intricately weaves words just so he can see you blush and swat at him. He takes pleasure in your angry little tone in some weird, fucked up way.

Which ends up with him developing a little...kink, if you will. He loves teasing. And in a condescending way too.

He used to consider himself good-natured - didn't take pleasure in the humiliation of others, surely. His parents' relationship should have taught him well. And it did...but he just can't stop teasing you.

Perhaps it was your strangled voice telling him to cut it out, or the tint of your cheeks complimenting you oh so delightfully. He adored your reactions and coaxing them out was such fun.

With this devilish smirk that could fluster anyone, (or so you'd tell yourself because you aren't weak...okay, maybe you are. but only for him.) he tells you how red you've become. He'd scissor his hands and squeeze your cheek between the two digits, "You're just so easy to mess with, my love."

This led to his teasing gaining an edge. And as he grew confident, he also got mean. His teases degraded you here and there but he was just so condescending; talking down at you as the prince of Omaticaya. Stuff like. “Oh, yawnetu. You’re always falling at my feet. Should I hold your hand?” when you trip and fall (because he made you trip and fall by looking extra good that day, and also ‘forgetting’ to put on pants. in your kelku, of course. or outside in the forest if you’re into that, you weirdo.)

“Look at you, getting that fruit all over your mouth. Can’t even eat properly without my help.” when you eat particularly messily.

“It’s cute that you think you can win these fights.” when you try to snap back.

When he takes things particularly far, you get angry. Because damn, he's just so annoying sometimes. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine the Olo’eyktan in training to be so smug and condescending. At first, he was all gentlemanly and teeth-rotting sweet. He’d encourage you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and be so freaking kind that it’d make you want to cry.

When your mate got too comfortable, however, things went down. "Can you pass me the f-

"Only if you kiss me,"

"At what point do you become mature?"

"When you kiss me,"

"God, I hate you."

"Your pussy wasn't exactly screaming I hate you Neteyam this morning, but maybe that's just me."

He’s still sweet, of course. This man has no bad bone in his body, it’s true. He loves you so much that he can’t help but poke fun at your antics, and makes sure you know it’s all fun and games. When it’s fun and game time though, he’s ruthless.

And he's so proud of himself too. Puffing out his chest smugly and prancing around, boasting his confidence. You just want to wipe that sly smirk off his face - but you can't. It falls on deaf ears when Neteyam jokingly personalizes a better-than-thou attitude

"Oh, do I annoy you?” he would ask you after watching you groan and roll your eyes. “Not more than usual,” you would tell him, and he would just smirk, striding towards you and pulling you into a fat kiss.

Of course, these shenanigans follow him into the bedroom.

Lo'ak is evidently more like Jake when it comes to teasing. But Neteyam? Eywa have mercy on your poor soul. He's a mix of Neytiri, Jake, and perhaps Tsu'tey combined. (he's alive, argue with the wall.) The epitome of pure sex and the reincarnation of Asmodeus himself.

His tone is sweet yet condescending, smoothly purring into your ear while making fun of how easy it was to make your cunt ache with needy desire.

He would demand you finger yourself right in front of his prying eyes, then coo at you when you couldn't cum no matter how hard you tried. It was pathetic really, how diligently your fingers worked on your poor clit. But to no avail.

Neteyam would feast on the view like it was his meal for the week. With blown-out eyes and feral flicks of his tail, he would tease you all the while. Stuff like, "Let's see those fingers work harder. Oh come on, now you're just messing with me. There's no way you think that's what it takes to make you cum.

"I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that.”

“Well, you should be concentrating on me instead,…maybe learn a few things.” he drawls, circling the head of his cock with a groan while imagining he’s rubbing your swollen clit.

And you'd try your best to remember how he made you cum. But no matter what, you just couldn't copy the way Neteyam spit on your clit to ease the ache or the way he strokes the nerves so gently with a finger. Only the clit, of course - because he's going to tease you, and teasing you involves edging the shit out of you until your eyes water and you can't help but beg.

The fact that you’re so accustomed to his fingers and cock was a little embarrassing. They had become proviso for you to cum.

"You can't make yourself cum? How pathetic. Did I fuck you too good that it made you incompetent, or do you just like me too much?"

Neteyam always basks in his torture. He'd watch your hips buck wildly while begging and crying for him to fuck you right. He'd just sit there with wide legs, palming his hard cock and squeezing his balls ever so slightly at your pained mewls. Arms spread, head thrown back, he'd just observe you with additional snarky comments if he felt like it.

"Come on, you can do it. Oh, you got it, yes, there we g-...oh. What a pity."

#neteyam fic #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam #avatar twow #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar au #neteyam headcanons

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adviceformefromme · 9 days

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Hi! Thank you for the health advice! I would love to quit or significantly reduce carbs, I also feel like it's heavy on my body, but so many meals revolve around grains (sourdough bread mostly) and I guess there's a craving aspect to it too... Could you give advice on what you're eating instead?? I have lots of eggs, fish, occasional meat, plenty of fruit, just enough veg haha but i find it hard to imagine going without carbs (or grains more specifically cos I have no prob with vege carbs). Especially in winter 😋 Thank you for any help 🙏🙏

I feel like society has normalised feeling heavy and lethargic after meals, but its amazing you have noticed this and want to change!

You may want to cut carbs gradually (no starches - breads, grains, rice, pasta, potatoes).

I would recommend looking into GI index to see what foods are high glucose, following Hormone Balancing recipes, juices etc (usually very low carb and support women's health). Listening to podcasts on microbiome, or even a tiktok search.

Introducing pre/ probiotics: I make sauerkraut (which is basically cabbage / onions in water and salt left to ferment for a few days - lots of variations on this), also just made my first batch of Kefir (I stay away from store bought Kefir as its pasturised and all the good stuff has been killed off during this process). I mention these as a healthy gut is going to support you as you remove carbs and introduce more wholesome foods.

Breakfasts:

Omlette (spinach / onion / parsley )

Scrambled eggs w/ coconut oil

Buckwheat porridge w/ blueberries (buckwheat is a seed not a grain so low glucose index)

Avocado salad (seeds, olives, rocket, tomatoes, cucumber) +tahini

Snacks:

Nuts, olives, blueberries, blackberries, watermelon

Main meals:

Veg + Protein (Broccli, kale, butternut squash, courgette, carrots, asparagus, cabagge, peppers). I do different variations of veg to mix things up, sometimes i do Chinese style stir fry, I try to add garlic and ginger as much as possible into the veg. Protein is usually grass fed steak, whole fish - seabream, sea bass, mackerel, cod fillet, wild salmon fillet, or turkey breast fillet. I make chimichurri sauce to add some extra flavour to the fish.

Protein + lentil / chicpeas dish. I have a stew a few days a week to break up the veggies because they do get boring after a while.

Bone broth. I boil the bones, and have as a little side dish with veggies but this isn't really filling enough for a main meal.

I make beetroot juice, and also watermelon juice, tumeric + ginger shots throughout the week. I try to throw in flaxseed and chia seeds where possible.

I cut coffee/ decaf all that and now only drinking fresh mint tea, slice of lemon + hot water, fresh juices (within the hour of making), and water ensuring 2l per day.

Number one thing that had to go was oats. So if you are having a morning crash I suggest cutting the carbs first thing. I know there are suggestions (glucose goddess) that fat with carbs or when you eat them (having carbs after veg can help) but personally i think its best to cut them.

I hope this helps! Its a full lifestyle change that has honestly helped so much! It's a commitments, but investing in feeling good and your health will make you feel so good and wholesome! xoxoxo

*I used the free 1 month trial of MyFitnessPal app to track my calories/ meals to ensure I was getting enough food - for some this might be extreme but super helpful to see what’s going on.

#levelupjourney #manifestyourreality #levelup #lawofattraction #manifesting #growthmindset #healthy body #healthyfood #healthy diet #keto diet #gutmicrobiome

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w1tchytr1als · 3 months

Text

When I tell Jesus I’m eating Oranges, He Understands-

That it means the bones in my wrists are getting less prominent.

That the soft scent of citrus is lingering on my jacket.

He looks at me and laments every time I denied myself the simple pleasure of juice

Running across the lines of my palm;

The peel and rind turned into candy.

In the morning, I will crave clementines and

I won’t shake when my nails puncture the vibrant outer peel.

Noon rolls over and I eat an orange.

Night falls and my wrists still smell like citrus.

Night falls and we play the game where I turn good news into confessions;

And I tell you less about the act of eating an orange and more about

How I thought you would love me more if my breath didn’t smell like fruit.

But tonight I want to go buy a small bag of them,

Turn the netting into jewelry and fill

My body with tangerines that look like setting suns.

When I tell Jesus I’m eating oranges, he understands

Why this lent I will give up nothing,

And declare God as the smell of citrus

still lingering under my nails.

#lgbtqia #lgbtq #lgbt #queer #queer poetry #poetry #poem #poems #words words words #nonbinary poet #queer christian #queer pagan #ed recovery #eating disorder recovery #recovery #orange

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pearlywritings · 2 years

Text

Ropes of red – your help in bed

synopsis: Diluc is a selfless lover, always putting your needs before his and neglecting himself in the process. Fortunately, you learned how to deal with it...

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader

tw: smut, bondage, dry humping, slight breeding kink, established relationship

word count: 2,7k+ words

author’s note: you can all thank @umiwu for thirsting in the comments of my headcannons and accidentally giving me a brainrot with that, which resulted in this smutty piece. Enjoy!

"You are being unfair."

Tense muscles push against his pale skin in attempts to gain freedom for the arms. The failure to do so causes a soft chuckle of yours and a feather-like touch, tracing each scar – fresh and long faded – with delicacy and affection. You gaze down at your husband with amusement, not even hiding how much fun you have with having him tied and under you.

"Says who?" You hum, fingertips running down his arm and to his jaw, to rub a thumb against the bone softly. "The man who held me down by these strong arms and licked three orgasms out of me? Who is the unfair one here, hm, love?"

Your poor overstimulated pussy is still aching and pulsating after his tongue and fingers abused your clit and walls in the best way possible. Even now his lips shine with your juices – a proof the man made you see stars for three freaking times, not giving you a second to rest. It is truly a wonder that you managed to wrestle him down and tie his arms eventually.

You swipe your thumb across his lips, feeling the wet flesh and experimentally pushing on the bottom one. Just staring at them makes you clench around nothing and it's rightfully annoying. Not only can this man make you lust and crave for him on a daily basis, but he was being unfair by depriving you of his cock!

Which is curving on his stomach, hard and throbbing, clearly denied the pleasure of release. Diluc is a passionate and selfless lover, he always prioritizes your needs over his, be it any mundane thing or sex. It may seem sweet, and it is, but you are so mad at him sometimes for not letting you do the same to him.

Or actually were. These days it's gotten better, after years spent together and, moreso, being married now. Diluc learnt to accept affection and pleasure, but he is still a giver through and through, so he does tend to go overboard while bringing you to cloud nine, yet keeping himself from a much needed release. This is why you introduced him to the concept of bondage, with his explicit consent of course. Luckily, your husband absolutely has a soft spot for you, so it was relatively easy to convince him to at least try. It is nothing too extreme, usually just his arms tied to make it quick and immobilize him as soon as possible, but sometimes you take your time, wrapping delicate red ropes around his body, creating the most intricate patterns with it.

Now you practice it quite often. Even if Diluc acts annoyed every time you secure his wrists to pay attention to his body properly, you are extremely good at reading your husband to know he actually enjoys it. His body speaks for him.

You glance at his dick again. He is pulsating, the vein on the underside looks so delicious and his angry red head is leaking pearly beads of precum. You need to feel him, to feel his length pushing against you, the heat of his body consuming you whole. He radiates it so intensively, you think he is going to burn the ropes to get his hands on you. But you know your husband keeps his word. If it's your turn to caress and love him – he'll comply.

Your clit throbs at the realization that the man, who is strong enough to wield a claymore, to keep you safe, to keep the whole Mondstadt and its people safe, is at your complete mercy, with arms tied above his head and chest rising and falling in anticipation for what you are about to do. It's you who makes him feel like that, it's you at whom his loving gaze is cast, it's only you who makes his heart drum in his chest, and it's only you to whom he'll always succumb without hesitation.

You want him so badly, it is hard to not abandon teasing and just ride him on spot. But you want to take it slow, to build up the tension, so the release will feel mind-blowing. A little caress of his cheek, fingertips ghosting over the pinkish skin and then traveling down his throat, feeling the Adam's apple bob. Then giving a small scrape of your nails on his hard shoulders which always makes his breath hitch, and splaying your palms over his wide chest. The heart is beating so tangibly, as if it is trying to jump out and into your loving hands. You are taking such good care of it along with his soul and body, Diluc is happy for entrusting them to you and he couldn't wish for more. Well, maybe only for the ability to touch you.

Bracing yourself against his chest you bring your thighs closer to his. Your gazes lock, flames in his eyes flickering, igniting desire, and then you push yourself against him. Diluc throws his head back as you grind your hips and rub your pussy along the length of his dick, biting your lip and whining when your clit catches on his veins or head.

Diluc feels like he is burning. The proximity of you, his wife, his beloved, is excruciating without an ability to touch you, to feel you, to caress you. To bring you closer to his eager mouth and kiss every part of your perfect body, to hold you against him so tightly that your heartbeats would merge and raspy breaths become one… But he can only watch you using him to stimulate yourself, to drag your wet slit along his shaft, giving it just enough pressure to make Diluc clench his jaw as pleasure courses through his body. You look so beautiful on top of him, skin glowing with sweat, head slightly tilted back, mouth agape as soft pants leave it and fill the air with sexual tension. The redhead always thinks he is ready to snap at times like this, to tear his restrains or burn them to ashes just to free his hands and put them on your breasts, outline the perfect swell of them, or glide his wide palms over your hips, sensually grabbing the backside and helping you move… Yet he always holds himself back. The pleasure is about both of you, and you made him understand and remember it.

"Why, mmm, so quiet?" You ask breathlessly against his collarbone, a teasing lilt in your voice sending a shiver down his spine. Your hips are rocking back and forth, coating him in the juices escaping your sopping cunt, and lips are kissing all over his chest and up to his neck, leaving small lovebites to decorate his skin. Diluc wills himself to focus on reality, fighting through the fog in his mind and lifting his head to look at you again.

"Just admiring my wife, who looks so ethereal on top of me," he doesn't mean it to sound so cheesy, but in his dreamy state he simply speaks the truth. The blush that creeps on your cheeks and a giddy smile makes him realize you are fluttered. By his words. "And thinking," he adds with a strain in his voice, "that she is going to make me cum pretty soon."

Your movements falter, hands accidentally squeezing his pecs, making him bite his lip. Panting, you still completely, slightly lifting yourself to glance between your bodies. Oh Archons, you've made such a mess of him.

"O-oh, it seems you are right… We wouldn't want your seed to go to waste though, right, love?" You hum as if in thought, softly wrapping your fingers around the shaft to pump it a couple of times and line it with your needy hole. Ah, so you want him to cum inside... You truly are unfair, awakening his desire to fill you up and hopefully succeed in what you two have been dreaming of for months now.

He has to grit his teeth once more when you slowly but surely slide down his girth, whining and moaning at how full he is making you feel. Free hand slides down to his stomach, fingers curling in a fist as you sink lower and lower. By the time he is fully snuggled between your tight walls, the temperature in the room has gone up tenfold compared to the moment when you just started. You are not bothered in the least as you bend down and practically press your body to his, catching his lips in a searing kiss. The man tugs on the restraints impatiently, leaning forward as much as he can, marrying your mouths like his life depends on their union.

"Please… move…" the prayer is almost inaudible against your mouth, but you heed. You kiss him deeply one more time and, digging your knees into the mattress, start to rock your hips again, fucking yourself on him. Soon you are bouncing on his cock, back arched and mouth producing the sweetest moans only his wife can make.

Diluc's head hits the pillow, all muscles strain and mind goes almost blank with the sensation of your tight walls wrapping around him. He is fucking close to reaching his high, each time you lower yourself all the way down and tighten on purpose he has a hard time not to curse. His mouth must sing you praises, yet there is only one prayer swirling on his tongue.

He loves you so much, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you-

White bliss enters his vision as white paints your velvet walls. Diluc is twitching and groaning as release washes over him like a wave, with your pussy milking him of everything he has to offer. But he is still painfully hard, you can feel it, slowing down until your movements stop completely.

Suddenly the ropes are loose around his wrists. Long wide fingers catch yours, thumb feeling the metal band on a ring finger, while the other hand reaches right to your hip, red strings still clinging onto his skin. He looks lovely though, red hair, messily splayed on the pillow, red eyes, clouded with desire as they gaze at you, red cheeks and neck, and these pretty red things loosely hanging off of his arms. The sight only you have the privilege to witness, and Archons do you feel like luck adores you.

"Your legs must be tired," he softly murmurs, voice a bit hoarse, but so sexy. You feel your ass being lifted by his legs being positioned to give him enough support. "Please, let me help you."

'Help you', not 'handle it'. You love it when your husband cooperates. You are not tired at all, but when your lover offers to aid you so sweetly, you do not have a heart to tell him no. With a soft nod of yours and a kiss pressed to your knuckles, the Pyro user starts to move. Pressing a hand onto his chest, the one that is not occupied with holding his, you are trying your best to find a perfect pace to work in sync with your husband, and very soon you succeed. Room fills with filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin, your uncontrolled sounds and Diluc's loud grunts, vibrating out of his chest and all the way to your core.

"Ah! Like this! Ooooh, yes, mmm, Diluc~" you mewl and moan as your husband relentlessly snaps his hips and thrusts his cock into your tight heat. He is on a mission to bring you to your fourth orgasm, but this time he'll make sure you'll finish together. He knows he is close again, he needs to make you approach your breaking point faster.

With a hand still firmly planted on your hip he keeps your body in place and continues fucking into you, ignoring how your nails bite into the back of his other hand, as you try to ground yourself at least somehow.

All is thrown out of the window when he manages to reach a thumb to rub your clit, adding more pleasure to what his dick is already giving you, hitting all of your sensitive spots. It's so easy to snap like that and you happily give in, throwing your head back and gushing around him with a sweet scream tumbling from your lips. Your orgasm triggers his own and he empties himself inside with a quiet moan.

Your groin is glued to his as you struggle to overcome your high. It feels like fireworks in your tummy are exploding, blinding you and it’s a bit too much for you to handle. You register a reassuring squeeze of your hand though, fingers still intertwined and tightly so. Diluc helps you lower yourself on top of him, welcoming your weight gratefully, pressing his lips to the top of your head and wrapping an arm around your waist. You are lying like this, sweaty and hot, heavily breathing and trying to calm down. Right now you feel no desire to get out of this embrace to prepare a bath, and your lover shares the sentiment, lazily grazing your spine with his fingertips.

You glance at him only when you feel a movement. Diluc straightens his legs and brings one hand to push his wet bangs away from his face, and it looks so hot. You draw a small heart on the left side of his chest with your finger, and joyfully see him smile and then feel the same heart being drawn on the small of your back.

The man hums, running the hand down his face, massaging his eyelids a little. To his surprise the first thing his eyes focus on after is a smirk tugging on your lips. He lifts an eyebrow in question and your smirk only grows bigger.

"Hey, love, want a funny story?"

"Really now?" He groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. You are definitely up to something and he is not sure he is ready to deal with it right now.

"Oooh, believe me, you are gonna like this one. Remember that strange rumor going around the manor?" You notice him peek at you from under the limb. Oh, so now he is interested and listening to you. Good. "Yeah, the one about a man with his helpless wife. And guess what? I caught two maids talking yesterday and it appears that the main characters of the rumor are…” you pause dramatically to create an intrigue, but fail when Diluc pinches your buttcheek and you yelp in surprise. Giving him a dirty look and receiving only an innocent smile, you roll your eyes. “Okay, okay, you, impatient man. It’s us. These," you tug at the ropes abandoned on the bed after Diluc completely shook them off, "were somehow discovered and they assumed I am the one getting tied! At the complete mercy of my big and strong husband, so poor and helpless. Oh, if only they knew the passion I deal with and the girth I manage to fit inside, they wouldn’t think I am so fragile. I wonder how to make you moan loudly for them to get the opposite idea…"

You don't fail to notice the blush creeping back onto his milky skin as he hides behind his arm again. Giggling and cooing, you litter his chin and nose with small kisses and hear him murmur quietly.

“Now it makes sense why they’ve been looking so strangely at us…”

“Aw, it’s not that bad. Honestly, we are lucky the rumors haven’t gotten to one particular Cavalry Captain yet,” you hum, playing with a wedding band on your husband’s finger. “He would not let you live it down if he knew you partook in some kinky stuff.”

“Please do not word it like that,” Diluc groans, bringing his arms around you to carefully grab your rear and slide his softened cock out.

“Or what?” you challenge him, holding onto his shoulders and gazing right into his eyes. In your peripheral vision something red flashes, and before you can react your wrists are brought together in front of your chest and the ropes are securely wrapped around them a couple of times. Oh, this hasn’t happened in awhile.

“Well, my dear helpless wife…”

You can find out.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact smut #moonlit pearl stories

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ivestas · 1 year

Text

accursed flesh (1/2)

PART TWO

Summary: You are the only female Witcher in existence, and you are suffering because of it.

Tags: Geralt x Witcher!Reader, headcanon format, blood, death, descriptions of pain, reader implied not to be european/not petite, reader implied to be younger than the others, unedited, etc.

Word count: 2.6k

Note: this idea has been poking me, but can u blame me? the entire concept is so fascinating!! also been craving to write something in a headcanon format since its so fun and easy LMAO; also to quickly add, this takes place BEFORE the events of witcher 3, but not too far before! AND, as usual, sorry for the wonky writing/lowkey ooc-ness of the characters, this is something super self indulgent and i just wanted to get it on paper

It was a dreary winter in Kaer Morhen. The cold hit you right in the bones, deeper than a basilisk's claws.

Your body was weakening. The mutagens—they were eating you alive. Writhing under your skin, burning the blood in your body and always leaving you in a state of constant pain. And that winter frost certainly wasn’t helping.

But you tried your best to stay light—the atmosphere within the stone walls was already quite... unsavory.

Lambert was still pissy about the facial scar he’s gotten, especially since Vesemir is insistent on using it as a learning lesson.

Vesemir was also pissy because Lambert wouldn’t stop imitating him and taking his vintage hat as a prop.

Eskiel had wooed a woman—a surprise to everyone—but had then found out that not only was the woman a succubus, but one that had a vendetta against Witchers and had aimed to kill him.

And Geralt...

He didn’t divulge in the details—or anything, actually. All he mentioned was that the roads were rockier and coin was thinner and harder to come across.

You tried your best to be a positive force, but it was proving to be difficult. Especially now.

You’d failed in your quest to find an antidote to your slow degradation, and due to that failure, your body was starting to gray. Patches of skin were starting to rot.

It sounded—no, is—horrifying. But you’ve given up. And you hadn’t the heart to tell the others that—fuck, you didn’t even know if they were aware of what was happening.

Only Vesemir knew, probably. You noticed his sad stare. It sickened you.

However, at night, it was easy to pretend nothing was amiss. That everything was as it should be, because mead was thick in the men’s blood.

Eskiel was beside you, while Lambert and Geralt were sitting across the large log table. Bottles upon bottles of all types of alcohol were strewn.

You didn’t have the luxury to drink—you found it irritated your already irritated mutagens. So you settled with juice, something that drunken Lambert took note of.

“Hey... don’t tell me you’re becoming Vesemir...” he slurred before breaking to a grin. Grabbing the vintage hat he’d clearly grown fond of stealing from Vesemir, he put it on with a flick of his wrist. “‘Alcohol is a Witcher’s enemy. It steals your senses, robs you of logic—two things a Witcher needs to survive!’”

Eskiel snorted, the closest to a real laugh you’ve seen him choke out.

“Yeah, actually haven’t ever seen you drink,” Geralt spoke from Lambert’s side. His eyes were prying. “Not fond of alcohol?”

A wry smile twisted your lips. “You could say that.”

“No, wait, Geralt, your right!” Lambert’s words turned loud. “You’re totally right! I’ve never ever seen her drink either! And I’ve never met a Witcher that doesn’t fuckin’ like mead!”

“Don’t get hung up on it, Lambert. Too much thinking’ll make your head hurt.” You scoffed, taking a swing of your raspberry juice.

Lambert spluttered. Thank God he’s drunk, because if he wasn’t, you’re sure he would’ve insulted you in a way you didn’t think was possible.

“But anyway, any good things happened to you guys? Aside from cruel succubi—my condolences, Eskiel—and shitty contracts?”

“My year’s been quiet aside from that,” Eskiel muttered.

Lambert chimed in, nearly slumped over the table. “Same ‘ere, but I also met some Witchers from another school... they were assholes...”

“It’s a shame every person you meet turns out to be an asshole.” You couldn’t stop the sarcasm that laced your words, but he didn’t seem to notice, instead taking yet another bottle and clumsily pouring it into his mug.

“What about you, Geralt?—and don’t try to sell me on the ‘quiet roads’ bullshit, you’re always up to something—what king have you been fraternizing with this time?” What sorceress have you been trying to lay with lately?

Geralt paused, his face contemplative. You could imagine snapshots of memories flashing in his head, each one packed with layers of action and tension, and after a few moments of that quiet, he finally spoke.

“Can’t think of anything. Sorry.”

Before you could press him further, he turned the tables onto you.

“What about you though? You didn’t say much.”

“You didn’t say anything at all, actually.” Eskiel noted, sparing you only a quick glance before being immersed in his drink the same way Lambert was.

“I...”

You were a shit liar—the school of Wolves were all shit liars frankly, and the worst part was that they could catch those same lies too in a heartbeat.

“Well... It’s complicated.”

“The night is young,” Geralt murmured. “We don’t have much else to do except drink.”

“Yeah... well...” Fuck.

A part of you wanted them to know, but you knew the moment they were aware of your decline, they’d do anything to try to reverse it, just as you would with them.

Again, Wolves. The school was a pack, and it would be hypocritical of you not to want them to worry if you would react the exact same.

Especially Geralt. You’d burn countries if it meant helping him.

“Been trying to fix a few things.” Were the words you settled with.

“What things? And were you able to do so?”

“Personal things, and... unfortunately not.” You stared at the contents of the mug in your hand, your reflection distorted. Uncertain. “It’s too late.”

Geralt hummed at that. “Need help?”

The words were so simple, and somehow, it left you silent, as though he asked something grand, something completely philosophical and abstract. It left you stunned, strangely—despite being confident that Geralt has your back, there’s an absurdity to it.

You’d help me?

He didn’t say anything, simply looking at you with what seemed to be a reassuring look. A silent, underlying, muted warmth. Or maybe you were just imagining it—fuck, you didn’t know what to think.

And then, it hit you:

You were going to die anyway.

Doesn’t that allow you to be a little selfish?

“Yeah, I think I need an extra set of hands.” You couldn’t look at him in the eyes. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all, really.”

“Jeez, get a room—urp!” Lambert nearly keeled over. “Fuck! Is it jus’ me or is the room getting a little wonky..?”

Eskiel sighed, getting up from where he was and walking to Lambert. “Guess I need to be his caretaker again.” He grabbed Lambert, forcing him on his feet. Before he could sway and fall, he threw his arm over his shoulder. “Good night you two.”

“Good night,” you smiled.

Geralt nodded to him. “Night.”

And just like that, they were gone.

Geralt looked to you expectantly.

“I know something’s wrong. My medallion’s been humming ever since you came. Is this something to do with your issue?”

“Yeah, uh… Look, I’m not gonna mince words,” looking at him, your voice was resolute. “I’m dying. I think by the end of the winter, my spirit’ll be long gone.”

The smallest flashes of emotion that appeared on his face died seconds later.

“I thought the complications with the mutagens..?”

“They never went away—they got worse, actually.” You frowned. “I spent the year searching, and there was no antidote. It’s like—you know how your body gets influenced in certain ways by mutagens? Kind of warps your body and tissue, becomes a part of you?”

Geralt nodded.

“Your body, it sustains it—men’s body naturally do, because of muscle mass and shit like that. Biological differences. According to some druids, the only reason I got past the main steps to becoming a Witcher as a kid was just ‘cause I worked in the farm a lot more and gained more muscles due to that and genetics…” A humorless laugh tore from your throat. “Aren’t I special?”

Geralt’s eyes averted to the drink he nursed in his hands.

“But yes, because my body isn’t strong enough to sustain and create harmony with the mutagens I’ve been infused with, the mutagens became embedded in my biological matter and have become a plague that wishes to only eat at my body till there’s nothing left.”

You pulled up your thick sleeve to reveal a thick circle of rot. Your natural complexion abruptly cuts to an unnatural dark miasma of a purplish-black with the smallest veins of a deep green and a blood-red. It resembled the skin of a rotting horse carcass.

You laughed again. “To be honest, now that I say it out loud? I don’t think I need help, It’s just too late—“

“Don’t say that. I’ll help you.”

“Geralt—“

“I refuse to let you die.” His eyes burned. His face, although controlled, betrayed some emotion with how the muscles of his jaw seemed to knot, how his brows furrowed, his lips pushed downward to a bitter frown. “Why did you keep this a secret?”

Suddenly, the ‘not to worry you guys’ explanation didn’t hold water.

You knew there was a reason—there just had to be, right?—but you couldn’t find one, one that you could confidently say out loud that didn’t betray the part of your mind you’d long since exiled from your consciousness.

You smiled. “Dunno. Too many reasons, too little will.”

Geralt’s frown deepened. The look made you anxious—but not in a way that you were fearful of him—no, never, not Geralt. Never Geralt.

But rather, the anxiousness and guilt that you know you disturbed the little peace of mind he had. The comfort that coming to Kaer Morhen was meant to provide.

“We need to fix this. I’ll tell Vesemir, I’m sure he’d know something—“

“Don’t!”

“What?”

“Don’t, Geralt. Please.”

“Why?”

“Because you just can’t. This is why I didn’t want to tell you, you guys get worked up and—“

“You’re dying and you expect us—me—not to get ‘worked up’?” He said the words as though they were nonsense—as if he couldn’t detect a lick of sense behind it. “You’re rotting, and you expect me to just sit down and do nothing?”

“I—I don’t know, listen, Geralt, I don’t mind—“

“I’m not listening. This topic is over. I will help you, whether you want that help or not.”

You chewed on the skin of your lips.

His voice softened. “At dawn, we’ll meet and talk to Vesemir. I’ll make sure the other two don’t know, if you want.”

“...yeah. Thank you.”

---

It was right at dawn when you and Geralt met with Vesemir in the training hall.

Geralt was the one to provide the information of what was happening since you couldn’t seem to find the verbal coherence to do so yourself.

When he finished, Vesemir sighed deeply.

“I simply wish you’d come to me sooner, child.”

Your ears burned but you maintained your poker face. Child.

“Can you show me the... ‘rot’?”

You obliged, revealing the festering rot your left arm.

Although it was just a small movement—almost imperceptible—you noticed the way his eyes widened the slightest bit.

You were completely fucked if it took Vesemir of all people by surprise.

“I’ve never seen anything like this...”

“At least I’ll leave a mark on history in my own way: ‘first female Witcher, dies of perpetual rot!’ Hope my name’s the label for this illness.”

Vesemir ignored you. So did Geralt, but you weren’t blind to the quick glance he gave you. “I can only think of one way that could perhaps cease—or better yet, reverse this, and it’s if we can pry the mutagens out of your body.”

"That’s impossible. Doesn’t the Trial of Grasses make it impossible to do that?”

“Yes, unfortunately... but there’s hope. Perhaps the mutagens you have now could be swapped with a weaker set, letting your body overpower and take control.”

“And how’d we do that?”

Vesemir paused.

Geralt was the one to speak, and he spoke slowly. Quietly. “Another Trial of Grasses..?”

“No, no, no—fuck no.” You stepped back, glaring at Geralt. “I’d rather die than go through that again!”

Geralt crossed his arms, brows furrowed slightly. “I doubt it would work… her body’s grown and the mutagens had long since become ingrained in her, right?”

Vesemir frowned, nodding. “Yes, but it’s the only way.”

“I’m not doing this. You’re not gonna make me do this. There’s no way in any circumstance you’ll make me commit to this. No. Don’t even try.”

“Then you have any ideas?” Geralt glared at you. “Because I’m not just gonna let you die.”

“Fuck if I know! Look, I don’t mind, at all! It’d be nice to die on my bed than in battle—“

“Don’t be selfish!” He snapped. “You’re not gonna die. Not now, not in a hundred years.”

Conviction bled in his words. You fell silent.

He turned to Vesemir once more. “Are you sure there aren’t any alternatives? Something less intensive?”

Vesemir rubbed his chin with a hand. “I can think of something, but it’s requires a lot more time—forming a pact with someone with equal or greater power—someone who has the same or similar mutagens to hers.”

“So I gotta find a basilisk and form a pact with it? To be honest, I don’t want my soul companion to be the same things I’m meant to slay—“

“I’ll do it.”

Your brain froze for a second.

You glanced at Geralt.

“What?”

“I’ll form a pact with you, if you’d like—better than a basilisk, right?”

“You’d do that?” With someone like me?

A small smile pulled at his lips for a second.

Your heart twisted in deep warmth, and for a second in time, the impenetrable cold and gloom of your mind bathed in that momentary spark.

Vesemir clasped his hands together. “That’s perfect! If this goes as according to plan, the rot should at least cease the festering—hopefully, it even heals over! But right now, let’s focus on the pact—both of you, draw some blood.

Geralt took the dagger hung at his waist and drew a quick line of blood on the palm of his hand.

He offered you the blade. You took it gratefully.

Drawing a line for yourself on your hand, you nodded to Vesemir. “Done.”

“Now both of you, hold hands.”

You did as instructed, taking Geralt’s hand and clutching it tightly. It was warm. You couldn’t look at him in the eyes.

Though you could’ve sworn you heard a breathless laugh from him.

“Now, two of you, repeat after me: ‘with time shall it come, chimes of dark bells, synchronous melody that forms two into One. We shall become One.’”

In tandem, you and Geralt echoed the words.

A beat later, something strange took over you; an out of body experience, something that seemed to rip you of your senses for a moment and left you breathless—as if your body was robbed, and your spirit was all that was left to exist.

In that same beat, pieces of your mind seemed to snap into something foreign, something completely unfamiliar—feelings, memories, thoughts, ideas... they changed, eclipsed into a thing both familiar but distant. Icy but full of warmth.

And, instantaneously, the pains of your body—they ebbed, weakened, and diminished.

The pain was dead. The ache scrubbed clean from your limbs. You were whole.

When you regained your bearings, you couldn’t stifle the giddy laugh that jumped out your throat, the newfound energy coursing through you like that of a mountain’s great river. “Fuck that feels good, I actually feel my age!”

Vesemir pointed to something. “Your arm, child. It’s...”

You look down to your left arm.

It’s miraculously healed—skin smooth and in full color.

You grin became impossibly bigger. “Oh my God!” You turned to Geralt who had seemed to have regained his senses. “Thank you Geralt, thank you so, so, so much!”

He smiled. It struck warmth in you, and at that moment, you were sure he felt it too.

Note: I have some ideas for the part 2 (where the actual romance actually happens LMAO) but if you guys have any, drop by in the ask or dm me 🥳 orrr, if you want to request a geralt fic, DO SO!! wpuld love to get some geralt requests hehehhehehehheeh

#geralt x reader #witcher x reader #witcher 3 x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #female reader #witcher reader #sorry for the lack of romance :((

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